in the works of man. A mass of granite of a size at present immense, but formerly most astonishing, is the pedestal. A steep acclivity like that of a rugged mountain carries the eye to its summit, which looks down on the opposite side to a descent nearly perpendicular. The figure of the hero is on horseback, supposed to have attained the object of his ambition, by surmounting all the apparent impossibilities which so arduous an enterprise presented. The victorious animal is proudly rearing on the highest point of the rock, whilst his imperial master stretches forth his mighty arm as the father and protector of his country. A serpent, in attempting to impede his course, is trampled on by the feet of the horse, and writhing in all the agonies of expiring nature. The Emperor is seated on the skin of a bear; and habited in a tunic and a sort of toga which forms the drapery behind. His left hand guides the reins; his right (as I before observed) is advanced straight forward on the same side of the horse's neck. The head of the statue is crowned with a laurel wreath.

Having described its disposition, I shall now speak more minutely of its merits; and, if you will allow me to find any defect in so glorious a piece of workmanship, glance at the few imperfections I was able to discern. The thought seems almost sacrilege; and yet as a mortal's creation, we have no reason to expect it should be exempted from the mark of fallibility. The design is faultless; and executed in a style of greatness worthy the character to whom it is dedicated. The majestic features and heroic expression of the head prove how deeply the artist was impressed with the grandeur of the soul whose outward covering he was thus called upon to pourtray. And yet I must not give the honour entirely to genius, for much of it belongs to love. We all know that it was this tender passion which first discovered the art of commemorating the human form. What the maid of Corinth did by her lover was done by

a young damsel of France with regard to Peter the Great. She loved his person and adored his mind. The wonderful bust which she modelled of him, declares what a godlike image of himself he had stamped on her heart; and the divine manner with which she has given this impression to the eyes of men, is beyond description perfect. is beyond description perfect. Falconet saw this bust, and from its breathing lines formed the head of his statue. The contour of the face expresses the most powerful command; and that exalted, boundless, expansion of thought which so wisely dictated his measures, and confirmed him to pursue them with unabated energy, till they met the full fruition of his wishes in the prosperity and happiness of his people. The position of his out stretched arm is rather stiff; being almost a straight line from the shoulder to the point of the middle finger; in some views we know not whether it be a hand or a truncheon. The waist is too long. Mr. Falconet might plead in excuse that the Emperor was so shaped. That is true; but the artist might have availed himself of the licence allowed to taste, and without any violation of truth a few folds of drapery would have concealed this glaring want of grace. The legs and thighs appear too short for the upper part of the figure; and when we suppose it dismounting and standing by itself, we cannot but think that such insufficient supports would sink under the weight of so colossal a body. The horse, in my opinion, is not to be surpassed. When I was in Paris I saw those fine equestrian statues which the French took from Venice, and set up in the Place de Carrousel; but remember nothing in them that was superior to this. To all the beauties of the ancient form, it unites the easy grace of nature, with a fire which pervades every line, and gives such a life to the statue, that as you gaze you expect to see it leap from the pinnacle into the air. There is nothing gravitating in this sublime steed: It would not touch the ground; but seems framed to tread the fields of ether with those of the sun.

The difficulty of keeping so great a mass of weighty metal in so volant an attitude, has been most ingeniously and admirably overcome by the artist. The sweep of the tail, with the hinder parts of the horse, are interwoven with the curvatures of the expiring snake; and together compose a sufficient counterpoise to the figure and fore-part of the animal.

To form an adequate pedestal for so magnificent a work the Empress, at an enormous expence and expenditure of the most indefatigable labour, brought a huge rock of granite from Wyborg. It was transported on large iron balls, and with other mechanical aids, safe and whole to St. Petersburgh. I saw a curious model of it, with the dimensions of the stone, journeying machines, and groupes of natives employed about it, at the academy of arts. It was the original wish of the Empress Catherine that on this rough piece of nature the grand founder of St. Petersburgh should be placed. But the sculptor, perhaps from the reason I before hinted, decided otherwise. He said it ought to be adapted to the rules of art: and taking it under his own chissel, by fine curves and studied shapes soon robbed it of all sublimity; and left nothing of nature but the matter of which it was composed. Originally perfect for its object, its bold lines and precipitous sides were fine emblems of the country whose ruggedness he had subdued, and whose prejudices of a thousand years he had surmounted and laid at his feet. The present form of the rock, lessened one half from its first dimensions, expresses nothing but the awkward bulging shape of a heavy cloud. Indeed, so bad was the business, that after all the cutting and carving, a large piece was obliged to be joined on again to replace what the jealousy or the false taste of the artist had destroyed. When Catherine beheld the erection for the first time, she expressed so much disappointment at the sight, as to ask with an air of displeased surprise

"what had been made of the rock!" I cannot omit mentioning an interesting circumstance which took place at the presentation of this statue.

The Empress, surrounded by her court, took a station admirably adapted to behold at once the monument she had commanded to be raised to the honour of her predecessor; her example in greatness and her brother in fame. The troops formed a barrier between the scene of action and the populace; leaving a wide open space betwixt it and the platform on which Catherine and her nobility stood. At the discharge of cannon, and amidst the sound of drums and trumpets the scaffolding which concealed this work of art, fell to the ground. A general shout of admiration rent the air; and while all eyes were fixed on the statue, a venerable figure burst through the ranks, and rushing towards the towering image of Peter, prostrated himself before it. The confusion so strange an incident produced immediately excited the Empress's attention and made her inquire into the cause. The object of the tumult was brought before her in the form of an old athletic man, dressed in the naval uniform of the time when the victories of the Emperor she now celebrated, claimed the astonishment and admiration of all Europe.

"I am the servant of my old master Peter the Great, and Your Majesty's faithful subject. I served many years under his command. And hearing that I should again behold him to-day, my last act of gratitude was to throw myself at his feet; and had I there breathed out the life that has too long survived him, I should have been glad; it being the only tribute I have now to bestow."

The Empress turned to Count Tchermachoff, and reproved him for not having informed her of the existence of this venerable seaman.

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Ah, heaven bless Your Majesty!" interrupted the veteran, none here are to blame for my obscurity. Many years have passed since I appeared either in the field of battle or of life: and had not this great occasion called me, I should never, perhaps, have mingled with a crowd again. They who knew my services are now all gone down to their graves."

After faithfully recounting to the Empress the events of his life (who at first had suspected the circumstance to have been contrived to surprize her), she settled on him a handsome pension; and from that day so distinguished him, that he became an almost constant inmate in the palace, and a favourite until his death, with the whole of the imperial family. The name of this extraordinary old man was Resen. He was not a native of Russia; and it is a fact well ascertained, that he served in the French fleet at the memorable battle of la Hogue. After which he attached himself to the Tzar Peter, and accompanied him in most of his enterprises in the Baltic and Black Sea; in which latter station he was when the Emperor died in 1725. He remained there thirty years on duty; and when he returned to St. Petersburgh a sad desolation met him. Time or new interests had so blotted him from the minds of men, that with much difficulty he obtained half-pay. With this poor pittance he retired into an obscure corner of the city, where he dragged through life forgotten and unknown, till the monument of his august master rose like the shade of the departed hero to recall him to men, and to happiness. He passed the residue of his days with every comfort; and died in the year 1796, at an age exceeding a hundred.

This venerable subject has led me from the statue, on whose rocky pedestal is affixed to each side the following simple inscription in bronze.