The Russians are clever and capable, since they learn all trades with great ease, some of them even gaining success in the arts. One day, at Count Strogonoff's, I saw an architect who had once been his serf. This young man exhibited so much talent that the Count made a present of him to the Emperor Paul, who made him one of his architects and ordered him to build a theatre-hall after the plans designed and submitted by him. I never saw the hall, but was told that it was very handsome. In the matter of artistic serfs I was less fortunate than the Count. As I found myself without a man-servant, after being robbed by one I had brought from Vienna, Count Strogonoff gave me one of his serfs, who was supposed to prepare his daughter-in-law's palette and clean her brushes when she amused herself with painting. This youth, whom I therefore engaged for the same purpose, became persuaded, after serving me for a fortnight, that he was a painter, too, and gave me no rest until I had obtained his freedom from the Count to enable him to work with the Academy students. He wrote me some letters on this subject that were really curiosities of style and ideas. The Count, in yielding to my request, had said, "You may be sure that before long he will want to come back." I gave the young man twenty rubles and the Count gave him at least as much. Accordingly, he at once hastened to purchase the uniform of the students in painting, and thus attired came to thank me with a triumphant air. About two months later he brought me a large family picture, which was so bad that I could not look at it, and for which the poor young man had been paid so little that, after liquidating all his expenses, he had lost eight rubles of his money. As the Count had foreseen, his disappointment made him surrender his wretched liberty and go back to his master. The servants are remarkable for their intelligence. I had one who knew not a word of French, and although I was equally ignorant of Russian we understood each other perfectly without the agency of speech. By raising my arm I asked him for my easel, or my paint box, or otherwise conveyed to him by gesture what articles I wanted. He invariably seized my meaning, and was of the greatest value to me. Another very precious quality I discovered in him was his honesty, which was proof against all temptations. Frequently bank-notes were remitted to me in payment of my pictures, and when I was busy painting I laid them near me on a table. On quitting work I constantly forgot to take away the notes, which sometimes lay there three or four days without his ever abstracting one. Moreover, he was a man of exceptional sobriety; I never once saw him drunk. This good servant was called Peter; he wept when I left St. Petersburg, and I have always sincerely regretted losing him.