I remained in the tower for some time; the longer I remained the more interested I became. At about nine o'clock, drove into town and home, stopping at a monastery on our way, and hearing some fine music.

now had remained silent-mingled its thunders deur of the view. I cannot describe it to you, with the chimes, in honour of the archiman- or impart the sensations which it awakened drate's approach. I walked by the side of old in me. At one time, I thought I was dreaming, Melchisedec, and the rear was brought up by and was having a view of "the golden city." monks, and, as is usual the world over, the Then, casting my eyes to the Kremlin, the "great unwashed;" in this instance, with long wars of the ancient Tsars, and Ivan the Terribeards and dirty sheep-skins! Two monks, ble, rose up to my imagination. And then I arrayed in robes of gold and green, the threads thought of the conflagration of Moscow! I of each being woven one with another, received cast my eyes to the north, and saw in the disthe venerable old man at the porch of the tance "Sparrow Hills," the point from which church, and escorted him to his chair of state Napoleon caught his first glimpse of Moscow,— or throne in the body of the church, bowing and I saw in my imagination the stern child of and throwing the cup of incense up before him destiny himself, mounted upon his snow-white continually. I left my venerable friend here, steed, with folded arms and flashing eyes, not daring to accompany him any farther, and gazing upon the wonderful city which cost him proceeded to secure a good place, where I the lives of so many of his veteran guard to could hear the music. But he had no sooner behold. I fancied him and his armed legions, seated himself upon his throne than, espying with hands uplifted, bursting forth in one cry, me, he beckoned me to come to him, and I "Behold! Moscow! Moscow!" and I saw his stood by his side again. The service then army advancing to the spot which no foreign commenced. The massive gilt gates of the force had before been masters of:-" Sparrow Iconostase were thrown open, and the officiating Hills," and the cross-surmounted domes of monks came out from the "holy of holies," Moscow;-the one a monument eternal to show and, after having approached the archiman- to the world how many lives man sacrificed to drate, bowing and throwing incense before exalt himself, the other testifying the love of him continually, they turned towards the altar, "One like us," who laid down his life to save and one of them read a chapter from the evan- a rebellious world. gelists, after which the choir of monks commenced their chant. And I never listened with more interest to any music. It was so peculiar; it was the music of whispers; for, although I stood within six feet of the choir, the sounds seemed to come from afar and brought to me upon the evening wind, or, if I do not use too strong language, they sounded like the chant of angels in the skies. Such softness of voice I never before heard in a body of singers; and, what seemed to me the more astonishing, these voices proceeded from full- After church we drove out beyond the limits grown, long-bearded men! During the service of the city to a prison where the exiles to the archimandrate asked me how I was pleased, Siberia are confined previous to their departure. and told me that the service would be very Every Sunday a number of these exiles set out long, and that I might leave when I wished. on foot, under a guard of soldiers, for their I remained some time longer, and then, after last home on earth; and whoever comes to kissing the old prelate's hand, and receiving Moscow from abroad to see its sights is genehis benediction, left the church, and was again rally present at one of these sad spectacles. in the open square, upon the green grass. Upon sending my card in to the superintendent The lofty tower was close by, and my valet of the prison, I was immediately let within the told me that I ought to profit by it to see the gate, and I found myself in the yard where the panorama of Moscow once more, and I readily exiles or prisoners were already assembled assented. We mounted its winding stairway, previous to their starting off, which generally and in a few moments were at the top. And takes place at two o'clock. They were standhow amply was I repaid for the trouble of ing, two deep, in a line, and there were about reaching it! It was the most gorgeous sight twenty in all. Each prisoner had on a coarse I ever looked upon. The sun was just setting, gray overcoat, and a cap of the same coarse and its beams were thrown across and over cloth. There was one woman among the prithe entire city; the gold and silver domes and soners. My valet immediately conducted me crosses of the churches seemed as if on fire, to an old gentleman who was standing near and the thousand stars that dotted the green the prisoners, and who, he said, was the "priand the blue minarets looked like balls of soner's best friend." He received me very fire. I was lost for a moment in the gran- kindly. This gentleman is an old Russian,

Sunday. I attended church this morning at the British chapel, a neat little chapel, of which Rev. Mr. Grenside, an Englishman, is pastor. My valet informed me that about one hundred and fifty persons attended the church generally.

formerly possessed of riches, which he got rid, She was a young woman. I pitied her, and of in doing good to his fellow-men, who visits the prison every Sunday from pure philanthropic motives, to attend to the wants of the prisoners, and aid them, as far as he is able, with the small sums of money which he collects for them during the week. He is a man of education, and speaks French perfectly.

Almost the first words he spoke to me were"These poor unfortunates have reason to remember your noble, your good Washington." His remark surprised me-I could not understand it, when he explained that George Washington was the founder of a library which now gives to every exile a good book to take with him to his dreary home. It was Washington who originated the idea and furnished the first sum of money towards establishing a fund for procuring books to be given to the Siberian exiles. And now, not an exile starts upon his long and wearisome journey without his book to read, if he will, upon his way. Thus, even in the wilds of Siberia the memory of our Washington is precious, and will endure for

ever.

The money Washington sent when President of the United States.

66

was glad to learn that she was only an exile
to the colonies. The prisoners appeared to be
all well clothed. The hair from half the head
of each prisoner was shaven. All things being
now ready, the good old man addressed the
exiles, exhorting them to be patient on the
road, and to obey without a murmur the orders
of the officers. They then all turned to the
cross upon the dome of the prison-chapel, and
repeatedly bowed and crossed themselves. The
order was now given to take up the line of
march; and these poor fellows, fresh from the
knout, and recent from the chain," filed off one
by one, and each man was counted as he left
the yard. Arrived outside the wall, a guard
of soldiers and four mounted Cossacks received
them. Here they stopped for a moment, and
here I witnessed a heart-rending scene.
poor old woman had been anxiously awaiting
the entry of the exiles from out the yard; and
when at last they came out, she saw a brother
and a son in their gang. She uttered a shriek,
and fell upon the ground, and there she re-
mained, raving most piteously, clutching the
earth, then looking to the exiles, and making
the air ring with her screams, till the drum
beat and the prisoners marched off. She then
rose and followed on after the procession, cry-
ing and sobbing very loud, but she was not
permitted to approach near those so dear to
her. Not a word could she say to them; not
even a last farewell was allowed.

A

I stood upon the hill and watched the exiles till they were out of sight. Some of them were in tears as they went along. They walk about fifteen miles a day, which is not so much as I supposed. After this scene, the like of which I do not care about witnessing again, I drove to "Sparrow Hills;" and here I stood upon the spot where Napoleon and his army, joyous with anticipations never to be realized, saw the first of the old Tartar city. I could imagine their feelings when, after the dreary jour

While we were talking, I observed a benevolent old Russian merchant approach the exiles and distribute among them some pieces of money from the bag he held in his hand. From my observation I am prepared to say that the Russians are very generous. I contributed a mite for the poor fellows, which they thanked me for. I ascertained from Mr. G., the prisoners' friend, the offences for which they were going to Siberia. The greater part of them were to go to the "colonies," so called, where they were to remain, but they would have their liberty. I also learned from Mr. G. that some of the Siberian colonies were very flourishing. On their arrival, the exiles are furnished with a tract of land, which they must cultivate, or starve. Among the number was one poor fellow, who was sent for smuggling. There was one very hard case among them,ney they had made, and the toils they had that of a peasant, or serf, for whom, because he had not worked and paid to his master a yearly revenue for the last three years, his master had procured an exile to Siberia! This poor fellow was heavily chained about his feet. But the hardest part of the story is yet to be told. The poor peasant had a wife and two little children-one quite an infant,— and she and her little ones were to accompany him in his exile! The mother and children were seated in a rude little cart, drawn by one horse, and they were to follow the prisoners as they went onwards. One of the prisoners was to work for life in the mines:-his crime was murder. The woman had killed her child; through shame she strangled it at its birth.

endured, the beautiful city burst upon their sight. Under any circumstances, the view from "Sparrow Hills" is hardly equalled, in its kind, in the world; and what must have been Napoleon's feelings as he gazed upon the Kremlin and the gilded domes that surround it, and thought that he was soon to be master of them all! I could fancy him exclaiming with delight, "Now will the dream of my ambition be satisfied; I have conquered all Europe, and I am now about to have Asia within my grasp!"

And now I traced him and his veterans on their march. I saw his army cross the Moskova, whose sluggish stream was at my feet, and upon the other side of the river stop at

see and be seen. A dusty drive soon found me at the Vauxhall, and I left the carriage and proceeded on foot. There were a great many people en promenade, and a good show of equipages, but nothing particularly striking in the appearance of either, unless, perhaps, I except the carriages of some of the nobility, which were drawn by six horses, four abreast and at the wheels, and two in front.

I cannot say much for the beauty of the Muscovite ladies, if the exhibition to-day was a fair specimen of it. They were extravagantly dressed, but excessively coarse in their features. I did not remain long at the park.

superior to the "Whale and Jonah" in St. | derstood a great crowd usually assemble, to Basil, which I have already described. The image of the Donskaya, Mother of God, is in the great cathedral, in the centre of one of the lofty and immense gilded gates which shut out the sacrament from the view of ladies; for no female is ever permitted to put foot within the sanctuary. If a Russian lady should attempt it, she might make up her mind to spend her days in Siberia. This image, like all the Russian images, is a great daub, inferior, if anything, to a tavern sign; but it is loaded with diamonds and other precious stones-the brilliant in the centre of the tiara, on the brow of the image, might be worth five thousand dollars. The Iconastas of this cathedral is very rich; it is one map of gilt, forty feet high, and as many feet broad. In one of the churches we were shown the tomb of Ambrosius, Archbishop of Moscow; and upon it lay his mitre of silver, studded with gems. This Bishop was murdered by his people in 1771. The plague was then raging at Moscow, and the Bishop, a sensible man, advised his people not to kiss (as is and was their wont) the images during the plague, lest some one may have kissed them who had at the time the pest, and thus the disease might be communicated. The people, blind with superstition, could not understand why they should be forbidden to kiss their images; the cry was raised that the Bishop had the devil in him, and poor Ambrosius was discovered in his hiding-place, in a gal- | lery of the church, and most inhumanly murdered. This was related to me by the monk. Thus was Russian superstition in 1771; but I do not think it has improved much, even at this present time.

After we had been through all the churches, the monk invited me to his cell, and showed me to a little, low room, which he called his study, and to another, farther on, where he slept and made his devotions. There was a cleanliness to be seen everywhere that one rarely meets with in a Russian's apartments. The furniture was exceedingly simple, but very comfortable. It was now time to be thinking of going to town, and I rose to bid the monk good-bye. He asked me to come and see him before I left town, and proposed my visiting the monastery next Saturday evening, and hear the evening service chanted; and to come early, and take a cup of tea with him. I asked him, in leaving, if I could be of any assistance to him; and if so, to command me. He replied, "My friends often put the same question to me, and my uniform answer is, Pray for me!" "

When I arrived home, I ordered dinner; and in the evening took a drive to the public walks or gardens, where of a Sunday evening I un

Monday. I drove to the Kremlin this morning, and sent up my letter and card to Baron He immediately gave an order that the palaces of the Kremlin should be open for me at two o'clock, and appointed an officer to meet me at that hour and conduct me through the apartments. It was now only twelve o'clock, and, having two hours to spare, I visited the Treasury, so called, in the Kremlin. To describe what I saw there would require sheets of vellum. In the treasury is collected the wealth of all the Tsars of Russia ;-the crowns of all the Tsars, their thrones, their services of gold plate, their court dresses, state beds, jewels, and I know not what else,―everything, as you may well suppose, of a richness and splendour unsurpassed in the times they were produced. What struck me the most, among the gold services of the different Tsars, was the dinner-service of Ivan the Terrible. He used to regale his guests in gold goblets about the size and shape of a frying-pan. One of these wine-bowls will hold at least a bottle of wine; and I doubt if even in Ivan's time his guests could drink many of these bumpers to the health of their Gospuda. Sad, however, was the fate of the unlucky fellow who balked on such an occasion as this. Just out of the Kremlin walls, in the beautiful place, and close by "St. Basil," the circular stone platform now stands, where the Tsar Ivan used to drag his rebellious subjects, and with one blow of his heavy sword sever the head from the shoulders of his victims.

To give you an idea of the richness of the imperial crowns, that of Catharine I. is bedecked with above 25,560 precious stones. Among other curiosities are a pair of enormous boots, worn by Peter the Great, his immense tankard, and several pieces of mechanism of his own execution. Among the gold cups I saw, that of the Empress Ann weighs twentynine pounds.

But, after all, what interested me most (for I soon grew tired of looking at crowns, thrones, gold services, and all that trash) was a sou