ample 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.

"Who are you? What are you?" demanded she.

"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.

"Ah, heaven bless your majesty!" interrupted the veteran, "none here are to blame for my obscurity. Many years have past 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 surprise her), she settled on him a handsome pension; and from that day so distinguished him, that he be came 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 recal 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.

PETRO PRIMO.-CATHERINA SECUNDA.

The name alone of either "contained a volume of noble matter," and Catherine was greatly aware of its force. Conscious of her own spirit, she turned her eagle eye upon the splendors of Peter the Great and did not shrink. No petty jealousy of the glory of her predecessor operated to make her substract from the rock on which she engraved his fame. It was a mighty soul, self-satisfied in its own abundant worth, awarding with a generous hand the full laurel to its bright compeer. When I look on the statue of Peter, I see as glorious a monument of Catherine's greatness as of his renown: and like the veteran seaman am ready to fall down before such a remembrancer of kindred virtues; such a remembrancer of the truly patriotic spirit, which turned the desert into a city, and called the perishing natives from their trackless snows to homes of plenty, comfort, and civilization! Adieu.

LETTER V.

St. Petersburgh, September, 1805.

THE withering hand of autumn has already seized on every vestige of the brief but delightful summer. The evenings are chilled by the breath of approaching winter. She comes not here with the bracing airs of attempered frost; but with a malignant frown blights the lingering herbage, hardens the earth to impenetrable stone, and seems to petrify the very springs of life. So it is that her advances affect me; but I am told that I shall see a very different sight from the one I anticipate, when this formidable season really does appear. At present she is only casting her shadow before; and ere it is occupied by her august presence, I must describe a few of the amusements which are called the summer pleasures of St. Petersburgh.

The present emperor, in consideration of those persons who are not so fortunate as to possess country residences, has established a kind of recreation in this city, which in some measure supplies the deficiency. By his directions, a convenient and well-gravelled walk, about a mile long, and planted with trees, is formed around the southern face of the admiralty. On this spot tents are pitched, well stored with ices and cakes for the refreshment of the company; who assemble here, as we do at Vauxhall, for the pleasure of beholding the young, the iovely, and the gay. A similar promenade is laid out in the middle of a fine street of many versts in length; which is terminated at one end by the superb colonnades of the admiralty, and at the other, by the monastery of St. Alexander Nefsky. From the regularity and equal lines of this street it is termed the grand perspective. These two places, with the granite pavements on both the quays, form what is called the street promenades.

The Summer Garden is another scene of amusement. It is laid out in the Dutch style, in angular and stiff parterres, and studded about with a few wretched and mutilated statues. During the hot months, the shade of the trees, and the crowd of visitors,

arrayed like a tulip bed, render it a not unpleasant scene. But for peculiar charms, I cannot say much; the only thing in it really worthy of notice, is a very high and richly wrought iron façade (perhaps unequalled in Europe), which at certain distances is divided by columns of granite. The walk is bounded by the river Neva at one end, and by the Red Palace (so called from its colours) at the other. This huge pile of windows, friezes, pediments, and chimneys, a sort of architectural melange of military and domestic ornaments, was built on the site of the old Summer Palace; the residence of Peter the Great. It is surrounded by a wet ditch, defended by draw-bridges; and during the time of the late emperor, was his favourite abode. He considered it the child of his creation; and a most dear one it proved: for here, in the apartments which look into the plain for exercising the imperial troops, he met with that fate so well known to all. Sir John Carr has described the particulars with great accuracy in his Northern Summer. I will not repeat the tale here; but rather refer to the curious particulars contained in that elegant work.

Amongst the many absurd whims which infected the brain of this monarch, was one for painting with various discordant colours, the bridges, watch-houses, and imperial gates throughout the empire. These harlequin jackets were put on every thing that answered to this description, from one end of Russia to the other, by a special ukase, all in one day. The Red Palace was indebted for its present fiery hue to a very simple circumstance. A lady of high rank, of whom his majesty was a great admirer, happened to appear one night at a ball where he was present, with a pair of gloves of this colour on her arms. The fancy of Paul was so struck, that the next day it became his favourite tint; and he gave instant orders that his new residence should be painted accordingly. Hence it is called the Red Palace: and a most frightful and glaring appearance it makes. Another caprice of the emperor tended to fill up the ridiculous of this unfortunate abode. He must needs have his cipher of P. 1st. surmounted with a crown, affixed in every part of the building; for what reason he never declared, only it was his will: and now over every corner, frieze, door, win

E

dow, or latticed-hole, are these imperial letters multiplied without end. A person once attempted to count them, and left off perfectly weary and in despair, after he had numbered eight thousand.

You must now accompany me to scenes more worthy of their august resident. I will not be so fatiguing as to drag you through the many princely mansions of the nobility, which for magnitude and splendour might in England be denominated palaces. Magnificence is so much the passion of this country, that I should exhaust your patience or your belief, should I attempt to describe all; so I will confine myself to the emperor's abodes; and shall begin with the Hermitage.

This spot, once the retreat of majesty and love, is only a select part of a vast range of buildings, called the Winter Palace. Here resides during that severe but splendid season, the whole of the imperial family; and here are held the court, and all the public fêtes and festivals. Its architecture is not to be praised, being an enormous mass of bad taste; but its furniture is very noble, richly ornamented, though in rather an antiquated fashion. The dowager empress possesses the most elegant and comfortable suite of rooms it contains; and she has spared no expense to decorate the walls with excellent pictures. Murillio and Reynolds hold distinguished places in her selection; with some very superior landscapes and buildings by Robert, an artist, who though of the highest merit, is totally unknown in England. In a particular chamber of this huge palace, I was shown the crowns, sceptre, and other jewelled insignia of the imperial rank.

The Hermitage, which I before said belongs to this great structure, is connected with it by a gallery, thrown high in the air across a kind of street between the two buildings. It was in this minor palace that the great Catherine was wont to lay aside her purple, and with a few select friends forget that she was an empress, that the cares of a mighty state pressed upon her head, that her smile was fortune and her frown dismay. All spoke of ease and urbanity in these chambers, dedicated by her to pleasure and repose; and part of their fitting up was adapted to that design. It was here she received her favourites: