discoursed, they accompanied the notes with a noise made in their throats; uttering sounds in unison, but resembling the tones of a bird organ played under water. The means of producing this inward piping must be very painful, as the practitioner holds his breath for so long a time that the blood rushes rapidly into his face, and every muscle seems distended to torture. There was harmony certainly in the music, but no beauty; wildness, but no pathos. In short, take it all in all, it was unlike any thing you ever heard, excepting (if you ever did meet so odd a union!) the tones of a bad eolian harp, accompanied by the drones of an old bagpipe. It was too dull to laugh at: and instead of inspiriting the soldiers thus led to the field, I should think it very likely to drawl them to sleep. I was very glad to turn from so tiresome a lullaby, to the voice of my intelligent Baschkir; and to hear him speak of the merits of his troops, with a brave confidence honourable both to commanders and

men.

And to be sure, these troops may do very well when opposed to their neighbours of a similar discipline; but when competitors with the veteran French, I fear they will make a very sorry stand.

Yesterday a new body of a different race, marched through. They are the Kirghises, the ancient enemies of the Baschkirs: but now, forgetting former feuds, under the broad banner of Russia, they assemble together against the common foe. During the reign of the empress Anne, this powerful people (being a nation on the borders of China) committed themselves to the protection of Russia; and by their numbers and bravery much facilitated the commerce and strengthened the frontiers of the empire. They are a warlike people; supposed to be descended from the Sarmates, a race who came originally from the East; and who, both under their ancient appellation, and the more modern one of Kirghises, held the Chinese in awe, and more than once shook that wonderful power to the foundations.

Their territories, in which they have numerous towns, extend from the river Oural and the Caspian Sea eastward as far as the Irtish, and the Altay mountains, the natural wall of China. The sea of Oral, and Buckkaria bound them to the

south. This once formidable people, now become the auxiliaries of Russia, did not appear better appointed for efficiency against European troops, than the Baschkirs. They were armed with bows and arrows, and badly mounted. Their clothes were of the Eastern fashion, with blue kaftans and caps of various forms, some furred, and others plain, of the Chinese shape. The Kirghises resemble their neighbours of China in the character of their faces, as well as in complexion and features.

The troops were divided into bands of a hundred men. At the head of each, an officer carried its respective standard; not much unlike, both in colour and pattern, a common checquered silk handkerchief; but forked with points of a distinct dye. To every pike was also suspended a small pennon, serving to mark the division to which each individual was attached. The effect of all these standards recalled to my recollection the procession in Blue, Beard, where there are almost as many ensigns of command, as men to command.

Then followed a very fine corps indeed: the Kalmucs, who are some of the best disciplined troops in the Russian service. They sprung from the Huns; a people, who, many years after the descent of the Sarmates, overwhelmed the neighbouring nations of Russia. But why should I tell you who and what they were? when every schoolboy knows their origin; since, like the burner of the temple at Ephesus, they gave themselves to everlasting remembrance by the subversion of the Roman empire, under their conquering Attila.

The Mongoles, or Kalmuc Tartars, were descended of this victorious race: and marching from their patriarchal seat on the borders of China, towards the Oral and Caspian Seas; they subdued the inhabitants of that vast tract of country; and mingling with the natives, in the course of time were so altered from their ancient manners, as to lose all apparent traces of their origin. Among the hives which they subjugated and incorporated with themselves under the general name of Kalmuc Tartars, were the Turkomanes and the Kumenæs pitched near the Caspian Sea; and several Sarmatian and Scythian swarms which dwelt more to the northward. These all made one people under the great Tschinghis-Khan; and following his

conquering banner, overran Buckkaria, Persia and al! China. Their next spoils were to be found in Russia: and owing to the continued feuds between the separate princes, it became an easy prey to the victorious khan. In short, from the year 1223, when the prince of Kief sacrificed the empire to his jealousy, to that of 1554, did the Russians groan under the Tartar yoke. But at that memorable period, the valiant arm of Ivan the Terrible not only gave freedom to his country, but destroyed the Golden Horde of the Kalmucs, the seat of the khans, pursued the remnants of their power to Kazan and Astrakhan; and laying both cities in ruins, for ever after annihilated the sovereignty of Tartary. From that hour, instead of being the lords of Russia, the Kalmucs are its tributaries; and one of the marks of their subjection, is the duty of attending the tzar in his wars.

If we be sensible to reflective awe, when standing over the ruins of some ancient magnificent structure; we cannot, on the same principle, behold the wreck of a once powerful empire passing by, without feeling a respectful veneration for its former greatness. These were my sentiments during the Tartar procession; and their consequent suggestions cost me some sighs, when I thought on what a baseless fabric rest all the glories of this world. The ambition of human nature, that never dying aspiration of the soul for fame (which is only another shape in which the principle of a ceaseless longing after immortality clothes itself) starts, when suddenly struck with the transitory existence of sublunary advantages. But half an hour's reflection makes one smile at these regrets: and so, instead of occasional thought decking me with the dismal visage of the weeping philosopher, it always sends me out of school under Democritus's colours. If this be not the effect of all thinking, it is but grave trifling: and if philosophy, divine philosophy! find not good in every thing, it loses its epithet, and is not worth a rush.

But a truce to moralizing, and again to my Kalmucs. I inclose you a sketch of their figures and physiognomy; and I asI have not caricatured the latter in the least. The strong line of their eyebone is far more perpendicular than that of the Chinese. Hence we must suppose, if Tschingis-Khan

sure you

and the renowned Tamerlane resembled their descendants, that Venus here showed her old enmity against the warlike Minerva, in the persons of her favourites; and while the one was blessed with the courage of Mars, the other was cursed with the aspect of Vulcan. So much for the Tartarian heroes. Being perhaps well tired of their company, they shall make you their bow, with the temporary adieu of your very faithful friend.

LETTER XXXII.

St. Petersburgh, April, 1807.

HAVING to fulfil my engagements with the admiralty, after many an anxious day, I left Mosco for St. Petersburgh late in February, and arrived here early in March. In that hos pitable capital I had passed hours which endeared every stone to my remembrance: and the inhabitants! how shall I cease to speak of them, who were to me as the kindest friends; and of some still more beloved, who blessed me with every heartfelt delight that renders England dear!

I have left Mosco for a short season I hope: but when I return, it will not be to meet all whom I valued there. One, the most venerable of my friends; one, whose doors were ever open to me; whose tenderness cherished me as a parent, is gone! Re moved to her heavenly country; there to receive the reward of her virtues; the happiness allotted to the benefactress of the wretched, and the refuge of them who have no home.

A few weeks before I quitted Mosco, died this revered woman. The instant I was apprised of the event, I hastened to her palace. During her severe illness, those whom she honoured with her affection were seldom absent from her couch or antichamber. But let death strike when it will, the blow always surprises the heart of a friend. Hope lingers for those we love, even till the moment life is extinguished. The real sorrow that met my eyes on being led into the saloon where she lay, is more than I can utter; but I felt it all. The room was filled with bi

shops and priests, and tender relations, chanting the requiem, and praying for the departed soul. The last time I had entered this state apartment it was then decorated for a ball; the walls blazed with myriads of gay lights: the roof resounded with music and the dance; and beauty, smiles, and splendor, beamed around. The venerable and illustrious mistress of the fête, she too was there, and sat amidst the general festivity, enjoying with an amiable complacency the pleasures she diffused. All now was changed! I returned to the same chamber, but, O, my God! under what different feelings, and for what a different purpose! My soul was ten thousand times more wrought upon, than if I could have shed torrents of tears. The colour of mourning covered the walls, funeral tapers gleamed from the hands of the priests, and the draperies of a vast pall met my feet: where then was she whose maternal smiles had always greeted my entrance? Bitter, bitter was that moment! It is the survivor's heart that pays the tax of death, not his who dies.

Many around me were weeping heavily: but the friend of my soul, the living representative of the departed Saint, stood like a fixed statue of grief. The coffin was blessed by the bishops; the holy water bedewed it, and the shrouded body of the best and most revered of women was deposited in it for ever, at least for that ever which belongs to time, until the day which closes time's existence, and awakens man to the eternity of heaven! The sight of that lifeless form called forth all that was woman in me. My gratitude, my sorrow, almost turned me Greek; and hardly could I forbear falling on my knees, and joining in their prayers to the divine mercy for her peace and everlasting happiness.

I afterwards saw her laid in the tomb: and as the earth closed over her, the remembrance of all that she had been to me, of all that she had blessed me with, of the precious part of her being, that was to be mine for ever; made me feel indeed a son, and more than filial tears bedewed her grave. Think then, my friend, with what sentiments I left Mosco. Think how impatient I am to return to it, with that imperial sanction to my wishes, which will turn the house of mourning into that of joy!