STATUE OF PETER THE GREAT.

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significantly, the horse paws the air with his fore-legs, whilst the hinder are trampling upon a serpent. The weight of the statue is poised on the tail of the horse, which is fastened on the stone. The inscription on the pedestal is,

PETRO PRIMO,

CATHERINA SECUNDA.

I thought with pride of our own Mills, who has succeeded so nobly in his equestrian statue of Jackson, and in which the horse is self-poised.

The great street of the city—the Broadway is the Neffsky Perspective, named after Alexander Neffsky, the patron saint of St. Petersburg. I think this and the other two streets, radiating from the admiralty, are two hundred feet wide. The channel-gutter is in the middle of the street, and on each side of it are wooden pavements broad enough to allow two carriages or wagons to cross each other. The pavements are wide and well made. Many of the shops and stores on this Perspective are fine, and have very much the appearance of similar establishments in New York, London or Paris.

I know not how it is, but I never before felt so solitary in a large city. There are few persons in the streets, and certainly seven out of ten we meet are serfs; and all the drosky-drivers are wrapped up in long, blue coarse cloth coats down to their heels, and the waist tied with a red scarf, leather thong, or rope. The hat is a queer-looking affair, very low-crowned and bellshaped. I have never seen so many lifeless, inanimate faces as in Russia. The countenance is sallow, eyes sunken, and beards are mostly yellow. In these great streets, and over the vast admiralty-square, amid the palaces and vast buildings, I rambled by moonlight, and was never weary while watching the queen of heaven climbing over dome, minaret and façade. It was then that I realized the magnitude of this strange city, and felt that

130 WINTER PALACE AND ITS DEPARTMENTS.

it had now an air of antiquity and grandeur that no other city I have seen can boast. By the light of the moon I could not distinguish the brick plaster and stucco from granite or marble; but by the light of day the illusion was dispelled.

Our visit to the Winter Palace had been arranged by the kindness of Mr. Muller, and we found free admission to every portion of this regal abode. This building presents a marble front upon the Neva of nearly eight hundred feet, and the rear, which lies upon the immense square, is of plaster, but richly adorned. Its form is a square. On entrance, we all had to deposit greatcoats, as only dress-coats are tolerated in the precincts of imperial majesty. The grand staircase is one of wonderful beauty, and we happened to see the great carpet put upon it, as the royal family were to visit the palace the next day. This wonderful mansion was destroyed by fire December 29, 1837, and was rebuilt in less than two years. I think no capital in Europe can boast of such a royal residence. It is vain to attempt a description of so much splendor as I saw; for one room after another, till we had gone through a hundred, seemed to surpass in magnificence all its predecessors. The St. George's Hall is the most beautiful apartment, I suppose, in the world; certainly it is superior to any saloon at Versailles. Imagine a room one hundred and forty feet by sixty; on either side are twenty columns of porphyry, the bases and capitals most richly gilt. These pillars are the support not only of the ceiling, but of a noble gallery, the balustrade of which is of the most highly elaborate workmanship. The Salle Blanche, where the great gala fêtes are held, is entirely decorated with white ornaments, profusely adorned with the richest gildings. In passing from the first room to this last, we went through a gallery of national portraits; and among the heroes of the empire we were much interested with the likenesses of Barclay de Tolly and England's Iron Duke, Suwarrow, and Kutuzoff. The empress' state drawing-room was thought by our ladies to be the gem of the palace; and certainly its