Russia in 1839 -Empire of the Czar: A Journey Through Eternal Russia

trees, whose silvered tops are illuminated by the ruddy glare of some great fire.

There is but little variety of vegetation in the scenery of Ingria; that of the gardens is entirely artificial, that of the country consists of a few clumps of birch of a dull green foliage, and of avenues of the same tree planted as limits between marshy meadows, and fields where no wheat grows, for what can grow under the sixtieth degree of latitude ?

When I think of all the obstacles which men have conquered here in order to exist as a community, to build a city, and to maintain in it all the magnificence necessary to the vanity of great princes and great folks, I cannot see a lettuce or a rose without being tempted to exclaim — " a miracle ! " If Petersburg is a Lapland in stucco, PeterhofF is the palace of Armida under glass. I can scarcely believe in the real existence of so many costly, delicate, and brilliant objects, when I recollect that a few degrees farther north, the year is divided into a day, a night, and two twilights, of three months each.

One may ride a league in the imperial park of PeterhofF without passing twice under the same avenue : imagine, then, such a park all on fire. In this icy and gloomy land the illuminations are perfect conflagrations; it might be said that the night was to make amends for the day. The trees disappear under a decoration of diamonds, in each alley there are as many lamps as leaves ; it is Asia, not the real modern Asia, but the fabulous Bagdad of the Arabian Nights, or the more fabulous Babylon of Semi-ram is.

It is said that on the empress's birth-day, six thou-