they have chased the Calmucs, their brethren, their tyrants, and their instructors, out of Muscovy. None resemble the khans of Sarai so much as their antagonists, the czars of Moscoav, луЬо have borrowed from them even to their very title. The Russians gave the name of
' This Avord is not derived from the Latin
о 3
2 94AN ENGLISH HOTEL.
Tartar khans. It* signifies, in Persic, a
On first entering the city of Moscow, I forgot poetry, and even history; I thought only of what I saw, which was not very striking, for I found myself in streets similar to those in the outskirts of all great cities: I crossed a boulevard which resembled other boulevards, and then, after driving down a gentle descent, found myself among straight and handsome lines of houses biiilt of stone. At last I reached the Dmitriskoi-street, where a handsome and comfortable chamber had been engaged for me in an excellent English hotel. I had, at Petersburg, been commended to Madame Howard, who without this introduction would not have received me into her hotise. I took care not to reproach her for being so scrupulous, for it is owing to this precaution that one can sleep comfortably in her establishment. The means by which she has succeeded in maintaining in it a cleanliness rarely seen any where, and which is an absolute miracle in Russia, is the having had erected, in her court-yard, a separate building, in which the Russian servants are obliged to sleep. These men never enter the principal edifice except to wait upon their masters. In her judicious precautions, Madame Howard goes yet further. She will scarcely admit any Russian guest: consequently, neither my feld-jager nor coachman knew her house, and Ave had some
THE CITY BY MOONLIGHT.295
chfficulty in finding it; although it is, notwithstanding its want of a sign, the best inn in Moscow and in Russia. Immediately on being installed I sat down to write. ITight is now approaching, and as there is a bright moon, I lay down my pen in order to take a ramble over the city, which promenade I will describe on my return.
I commenced my perambulations at about ten o'clock, without guide or companion, and strolled at hazard from street to street, according to my usual custom. I first traversed several I0n2` and wide
О
streets, more hilly than most of those in Russia, but laid out with equal -regularity. There can be no complaint of the want of straight lines in the architecture of this country, nevertheless, the line and rule have less spoiled Moscow than Petersburg. There, the imbecile tyrants of modern cities found a level surface ready prepared for them; here, they had to struggle with the inequalities of the soil, and with the ancient national edifices. Thanks to these invincible obstacles presented by nature and history, the aspect of Moscow is still that of an ancient city. It is more picturesque than any other in the empire, which continues to recognise it as its capital, in spite of the almost supernatural efforts of the Czar Peter and his successors: so strong is the law of circumstances against the will of men—men even the most powerful. Despoiled of its religious honours, deprived of its patriarch, abandoned by its sovereign, and by the most courtly of its ancient boyards, without any other attractive association than that of a heroic event, too modern to be as yet duly appre-o 4
296THE CITY BY MOONLIGHT.
eiated, Moscow has been obliged to have recourse to commerce and industry. They boast of its silk manufactories. But the history and the architecture are still here to preserve its imprescriptible rights to political supremacy. The Russian government favours the pursuits of industry: being unable altogether to stem the torrent of the age, it prefers enriching the people to enfranchising them.
This evening, towards ten o'clock, the sun sank, and the moon rose. The turrets of the convents, the spires of the chapels, the towers, the battlements, the palaces, and all the irregular and frowning masses of buildings that form the Kremlin, were here and there swathed with wreaths of light as resplendent as golden fringes, while the body of the city was seen only by the remaining beams of day. which momentarily faded on the painted tiles, the copper cupolas, the gilded chains, and the metallic roofs, that make the firmament of Moscow. These edifices, the <reneral grouping of which gives the idea of some rich tapestry, still however stood in richly coloured relief against the faint blue ground of heaven. It seemed as if the sun had sought to give a parting salute to the ancient capital of Russia. This adieu appeared to me magnificent; although clouds of musquitos buzzed about my ears, whilst my eyes were filled with the dust of the streets, kept in continual motion by the thousands of vehicles moving about, at a gallop, in all directions.
The most numerous were the truly national drow-skas, those tiny summer sledges, which being unable conveniently to carry more than one person at a time, are multiplied to infinity in order to meet the
POPULATION OF MOSCOW.297
wants of an active population, numerous, but lost in the circuit of so immense a city. The dust of Moscow is excessively troublesome, being fine as the lightest ashes. We have still a burning temperature. The Russians are astonished at the intensity and duration of the heat of this summer.
The Slavonian Empire — that rising sun of the political world towards which all the earth is turning its eyes — is it also to be blessed with the sun of heaven ? The natives pretend, and often repeat, that the climate is ameliorating. Wonderful power of human civilisation, whose progress is to change even the temperature of the globe ! Whatever may be the winters of Moscow and Petersburg, I know few climates more disagreeable than that of these two cities during the summer. It is the fine season which should be called the bad weather of northern lands.
The first thing that struck me in the streets of Moscow was the more lively, free, and careless bearing of the population as compared with that of Petersburg. An air of liberty is here breathed that is unknown to the rest of the empire. It is this which explains to me the secret aversion of the sovereigns to the old city, which they flatter, fear, and fly. The Emperor Nicholas, who is a good Russian, says he is very fond of it; but I cannot see that he resides in it more than did his predecessors, who detested it.
This evening a few streets were partially illuminated. It is difficult to understand the taste of the Russians for illuminations, when we recollect that during the short season, when they can alone enjoy this kind of spectacle, there is scarcely any night о 5
298THE OBJECT OF CONSCIENCE.
in the latitude of Moscow, and still less in that of Petersburg.
On returning to my lodgings, I asked the cause of these moderate demonstrations of joy, and was informed that the illumination was in honour of the anniversaries of the births or baptisms of all the members of the imperial family. There are in Russia so many permanent fetes of this sort, that they pass almost unnoticed. This indifference proves to me that fear can be sometimes imprudent, that it does not always know how to flatter so well as it would
