CHAPTER VII.
"ON THE EDGE OF THE STORM."
"Still the race of hero-spirits
Pass the lamp from hand to hand;
Age from age the words inherits—
'Wife, and child, and fatherland!'"
YEARS came and went, changing the "little lord" of Nicolofsky into the graceful, handsome young nobleman, the ornament of the ball-rooms of Moscow. Ivan Ivanovitch—as he was usually called by his numerous friends, such use of the father's Christian name being accounted the best style and the highest courtesy in Russian society—had now completed his education. He spoke French, the French of the salons, in perfection; he played the violin; he danced with exquisite grace; he was an adept at cards and loto.
This last accomplishment was a dangerous one. Diderot's famous saying, "Russia is rotten before she is ripe," had but too much truth in its application to the higher classes. A superficial foreign civilization too often covered without eradicating the barbarism from which the nation was only emerging, and thus the vices of the one state of society were added to those of the other. In the brilliant circles where Ivan moved, no form of vice was rare, except perhaps intemperance. The noble did not usually misuse his champagne as grossly as the mujik did his vodka; but this was the only particular in which he set his poorer brother a good example.
