and be seen, but with a wise and healthy despotism he compelled his nobles to do so likewise. He even issued rules and regulations according to which these at homes' were to be conducted. What a strange society must that have been where such decrees as the following were thought dangerous and revolutionary :The host must hang out a poster inviting all and sundry who came under the following categories :-Noblemen, officers of state, army and navy, merchants and shipbuilders, with their wives and children no assembly was to begin before five or be prolonged after ten: the host must provide the requisite food, drink, and amusements, chairs, candles, and cards; but the guests were to help themselves. Everyone was to be free to come and go as he liked without the formalities of welcome and leave-taking. Any person making himself disagreeable was to be punished by being compelled to drink a bottle of wine out of a goblet to be called the great eagle.' It must be confessed that these gatherings were often boisterous and unruly; but the Czar's efforts to Europeanise his semiTartar subjects could not be expected to have a triumphant issue all at once, nor could it be expected that the graceful courtesies and refinements of Paris would in a moment become indigenous in St. Petersburg. What though the gentlemen and even the ladies got drunk and quarrelsome and fought, and some thirsty and unquenchable souls planned strife in order to qualify for the great eagle'? Rome was not built in a day, and the building up of a new moral order in society is a task more difficult and toilsome, inasmuch as tempers are not so tractable as bricks. It was the beginning of a free and friendly intercourse; and, then, do not most Northern nations -witness the Scotch-require the aid of that mighty solvent, alcohol, to thaw their reserve and make them loving, social, and communicative? There was a certain amount of chivalry, moreover, developed in Russian society by means of this drunkenness: those who were less drunk helped to stand, and aided homewards, those who were more drunk than they.

It was a sore trial to Peter to persuade his subjects to dispense with the flowing beard and flowing garb of the Tartar and

adopt the shaven chin, tight trousers, and cleansed skin of the European. Even with his army he had considerable difficulty in effecting these social reforms on account of the inherited and deeplyrooted belief in the sanctity of the beard and the divineness of dirt. The tug of war came, however, when he tried to force these atheistic innovations on the body of the people. He legislated that citizens of all ranks should curtail their coat-tails and cut down their beards, which were simply a cover and hidingplace for unclean animals; but sold indulgences on payment of a fine of one hundred roubles by the wealthier classes; and by the poorer ones, such as the priests and serfs, a fine of a copeck every time they passed the gate of a city. A copper coin, with a figure of a nose, mouth, and chin concealed in a tangled brushwood of hair, was handed to the taxpayer by the toll-keeper at the gate. European habits and customs were hateful to the people. Hitherto, indeed, the Russians had spoken of all other nations as the infidels, with whom it was a heinous sin to associate. Peter not only expunged this sin from the national creed and the statute-book, but even ordered the young nobles to betake themselves and their wives to the capitals and courts of Europe, to graduate in civilisation, and qualify themselves to be refining ele-. ments in Russian society on their return. The Czar anticipated reforms but lately introduced into England when he made gambling and games of chance illegal, professional mendicancy a crime, and issued sanitary and police regulations. Ridicule was his favorite weapon in bringing any custom of which he disap-· proved into public disrepute; and many a one did he laugh out of existence with grim, lumbering, elephantine humor. The priests looked with sour visages on all his reforms, and indeed the sympathy of the people was rather with them than with him. The following was the device he adopted to reinstate himself in public favor and turn the laugh against the clergy, who had been advancing what are now called Ultramontane claims. His object in this story was to poke fun at the office of Patriarch, which the priests and people desired, against Peter's wish, to have revived. He resolved to create his clown, who was in

his eighty-fourth year, a kind of mock patriarch. It was determined to marry this motley, and a strapping widow of thirty was chosen as his bride. Four poor stutterers, who took a quarter of an hour to get their tongues round each word, were victimised by being sent round to invite the guests, a deep draught of brandy having previously been administered to promote their fluency of utter ance. Four fellows with tremendous physical exaggerations, fat, inflated, and clumsy, were appointed to run as heralds and footmen; their movements, also, being made erratic by drink. A few helpless paralytics and lamesters were deputed to play the part of bridesmen and waiters. The open carriage in which the young couple made their glorious procession to church, amid drums beating, banners flying, discordant instruments playing, was dragged by four roaring and frightened bears, amid the uncontrollable laughter of the populace. To crown all, the marriage between this Patriarch of the Church and this poor victimised widow was celebrated by a toothless and wrinkled centenarian priest, deaf and blind, for whom the aid of a prompter had to be provided. On such a grand scale of hospitality was this state marriage conducted that there was hardly a sober person to be found in the whole city of Moscow; and the Czar brought it to a climax by giving an entertainment at the senate house, where each guest was forced, probably under the threat of Siberia, to quaff the contents of the 'double-eagle.' Again and again was this heavy horse-play repeated, till the office of patriarch became associated with ridicule in the minds of the populace for ever. And what kind of society must that have been where such a scene as the following could be looked on as proper? Previous to the Czar's ordinance by which mixed assemblies became compulsory, the ladies and gentlemen met in separate rooms. At one of the grand dinners given by the Czar, a huge pie was placed in the centre of the gentlemen's table, out of which, when the startled carver broke the crust, a beautiful dwarf lady, in puris naturalibus, all except a head-dress, stepped, proposed in a set speech and drank in a glass of wine the health of the company, and then retired into her snug retreat and

was carried from the table. A man dwarf was substituted at the ladies' table. Did not Peter say he could reform his people, but not himself? A dinner-party at the Czar's must indeed have been a sight not conceivable out of Bedlam, and could only have been planned in the maddest brain on earth, if a MS. among the Sloane papers in the British Museum is believable. Such practical jokes! such wild, grotesque gambolling! the frolics of leviathan! the laughter of a Titan, as frightful in his fun as in his fury! There was accommodation at the Czar's table for about a hundred; but the grim humorist always issued invitations to twice or thrice that number, and left his guests to elbow, jostle, and fight for chairs and places, and retain them against all comers and claimants if they could. Not unfrequently a free fight was extemporised, and noses tapped, and even the sacred persons of ambassadors have been profanely touched and trifled with. The Czar sat at the head of the table, a broad grin on his face, rolling the spectacle like a sweet morsel under his tongue. The guests are so closely packed that feeding room is not to be thought of, and ribs are often blackened and almost driven in by active and vigorous elbows, provoking fierce recriminations and quarrels. The kitchen is so near to the dining-hall that there floats through the latter a fragrance of onions, garlic, and train oil, mellowed and tempered by the more delicious aroma of the roast. The more knowing and initiated guests wave away soups and such-like edibles, and manifest a special appetite for tongues, hams, and viands that cannot be tampered with, or made the vehicles of practical joking, for as often as not it happens that a bunch of dead mice will be drawn out of the soup or discovered snugly embedded in a dish of green peas; and sometimes, when his guests have well partaken of certain pastries, the Czar will courteously inquire if the cat, wolf, raven, or other unclean animal proved a savory or delicious morsel, with what result let the imaginative guess. The approach to a regular Donnybrook was hastened on by liberal supplies of brandies, strong ales, and wines so adroitly served out as to expedite the grand climacteric of drunkenness. But one plate was allowed to

each guest; and if, reserving his appetite for some sweeter dish, he left off when but one-half of his serving of soup, or raven, or roast was consumed, it was a serious perplexity how he was to get rid of the rejected victuals and get his plate cleansed for a new supply. There was nothing for it but to empty the contents on his neighbor's plate; and then followed a game of battledore and shuttlecock, ending in blows, till the more peacefully disposed of the two bowlers threw the bone of contention under the table, wiping his polluted plate with his finger, and giving it a final polish with the tablecloth. A loving and brotherly frame of temper having thus been diffused throughout the festive throng, the Czar decrees that no one is to leave the filthy, crowded, and heated room till midnight, the dinner having begun at noon; but before the parting hour arrives, the guests, between loss of blood and loss of wit, are incapacitated for leaving, and make their beds promiscuously where they fall. Was ever such a lawless, chaotic orgy seen in a royal palace on earth since Belshazzar's feast, or will it ever be seen again? Nature brings not back the mastodon,' nor Peter the Great.

M. de Staehlin, giving an account of his ordinary manner of life, especially in his later years, says that his table was frugal, that he preferred plain fare; hotch-potch, roast pork or beef, and cheese, washed down by a little beer or the red wines of France and Hungary. He could not eat fish ; and in his early youth he lived chiefly on fruits, pastries, and farinaceous diets. He usually dined at one in the afternoon, after which he retired to his bedroom for a couple of hours' sleep; and at four he revised the work of the forenoon. Summer and winter alike, he rose at four in the morning, and after a light and hasty breakfast devoted his attention to affairs of state. He acquired a taste for strong liquors in his early youth; and this taste, it was alleged, was rather fostered than curbed by his sister Sophia, who was regent during his minority, and who had designs on the throne herself. His carousals, of which he often boasted, were frequent and deep; but M. de Staehlin represents him in his later years as having overmastered the vicious craving. Hot pep

per and brandy was his favorite tipple for a while. He was in England for four months finishing his shipbuilding education, and he and his shopmates often retired to a public house near Tower Hill to recruit their exhausted energies with beer and brandy. In compliment to Peter, Boniface christened his house The Czar of Muscovy.' Here is the bill of fare of another of Peter's dinners, eaten this time in England; it is recorded in a letter from Mr. Humphrey Wanley to Dr. Charlett, and is preserved among the papers of Ballard's collection in the Bodleian Library :-' I cannot,' says Mr. Wanley, vouch for the following bill of fare which the Czar and his company of twenty-one ate at Godliming, in Surrey, but it is attested by an eye-witness who saw them eating, and who had it from the landlord. Breakfast half a sheep, a quarter of lamb, ten pullets, twelve chickens, three quarts of brandy, six quarts of wine, and seven dozens of eggs, with salad in proportion.' A goodly breakfast, surely! but listen to the dinner: Five ribs of beef, 42 lbs. in all, one sheep, 56 lbs., three quarters of lamb, a shoulder and loin of boiled veal, eight pullets, eight rabbits, two and a half dozen of sack, a dozen of claret.' The Czar's visit must have seriously disturbed the meat markets of England if this is the record, not of a feast, but of an every-day meal.

In personal appearance Peter was tall and robust, quick and nimble of foot, and dexterous and rapid in all his movements. His face was plump and round. His eyes were large and bright, with brown eyebrows. His hair was short and curling and of a brownish color. His look was fierce and restless, his gait quick and swinging. That superfine and satirical young lady, Wilhelmina, Margravine of Baireuth, describes him as tall and well-made. 'His countenance,' she says, 'is beautiful, but has something in it so rude and savage as to fill you with fear.' When she saw him during his visit to Frederick William's Court in 1717, he was dressed like a sailor, in a frock without lace or ornament. A fine, noble, heroic face the portraits represent him as having; only his gross eating and deep drinking, and low morals, had impaired its majesty, and given it rather a sensual and fallen

expression. From his youth he had been subject to a spasmodic affection of the nerves which always attacked him in his hours of rage. It is said to have resulted from a fright he received in early boyhood; some rebel soldiers forced their way into the convent where he was brought up, and flashed their naked swords round his head. The spasms showed themselves by a contortion of the muscles of the neck and of his face. Dining at Berlin, Wilhelmina tells how such an attack took place. 'At table the Czar was placed beside the Queen,' Wilhelmina's mother. There took him a kind of convulsion, something like Tic, or St. Vitus, which he seemed quite unable to control. He got into contortions and gesticulated wildly, and brandished about his knife within a yard of the Queen's face, who, in great alarm, made several times as if to rise. The Czar begged her to retain her composure as he would not hurt her, and took her by the hand and grasped it so violently that she shrieked out in pain. The Czar laughed heartily, and added that she had not bones of so hard a texture as his Catharine.' 'After supper a grand ball was opened, which the Czar evaded, and, leaving the others to dance, walked alone homewards to Mon Bijou,' a palace which Frederick William had placed at his disposal, and in which the Czar and his suite made fearful havoc, almost breaking the thrifty King's heart. The sight of a beetle, it is alleged, had the effect of throwing him into such a fit, and the sight of a beautiful young woman had the effect of taking him out of one. M. de Staehlin says that when the Czar was so attacked the Empress was instantly sent for, and failing her, the first young woman that came in the way was conducted to the Czar's apartment; and, as if she had been sent for, was introduced with the formal announcement, Peter Alexievitz, this is the person you desired to speak with.' The soft voice and agreeable conversation and sweet presence of the charmer had such an effect on the Czar, that instantly the convulsion ceased and he was himself again, his visage calm and his humor sweet. Would that this had been the only spell or exorcism that such a presence could wield over him, but it seemed to awake more devils than it expelled. NEW SERIES.-VOL. XXX., No. 1

Peter's flesh was rebellious-by no means obedient to the higher sovereignties of his nature. The Czar and Czarina during their visit to Berlin were attended by a suite of ladies-ladies on the one hand, and washerwomen, cooks, housemaids, on the other, as circumstances required

almost every one of whom carried in her arms a richly robed child. On its paternity being inquired after, the chameleon mother replied, Le Czar m'a fait l'honneur de me faire cet enfant.' The following story shows both the weak and the good side of Peter's character. He fell in love with a beautiful young lady of the bourgeoisie class residing at Moscow, and commanded her father to send her to his court. In horror and despair, the girl, without letting her parents know her intentions, left her home at the dead of night and sought shelter in the house of her old nurse. The Czar stormed and raved, and threatened her parents with Siberia unless they at once produced her. Their grief for their lost child at last persuaded even the Czar that they were innocent of the crime of thwarting his will. A hue and cry' was raised, and so large were the rewards offered for her recovery, that the whole country joined in an ineffectual search. husband of her protector had built a hut of logs, thatched with brackens, on an oasis in the centre of a marsh surrounded by thick woods. Here she lived alone for a year, seeing no one except the woodman and his wife, who carried food to her in the dead of night. Here one day she was discovered by a huntsman, a colonel in the army, who had wandered far in pursuit of game. entered into conversation with her, and her cultured voice and refined manner betrayed that she was not the peasant maiden her dress represented her to be. He taxed her with being Peter's lost heroine. In great fear she confessed; and, on her knees, with a broken voice, pleaded that he would not betray her hiding-place. He assured her that all danger was past, that Peter had forgotten her, and that she might return to her home. What experienced novel-reader cannot guess the rest of the story? The colonel took the news home to her sorrowing parents: but he did more, for he told the story to the Empress Catharine, and that kindly lady at once agreed to

7

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inform the Czar of the poor girl's sufferings, and ask His Majesty to forgive her. Peter had the rare virtue of being able to forgive those he had wronged. He at once settled a pension of 3,000 roubles a year on the girl, gave her the colonel for a husband, provided such a marriage feast as only a Czar can, gave away the bride, and congratulated the colonel on having secured the most virtuous woman in Russia as his wife. Captain Bruce, who was military tutor to the Czar's eldest son, testifies that this story, romantic though it seems, is true, and that he had it from the heroine's own lips.

The history of the Czarina Catharine is equally romantic. She was a mild, loving, kindly woman; and her influence over her irascible and savage husband was always on the side of mercy, and never used to inflame his fiery temper. Many a head did she save from the gallows, and many a back from the knout. The Margravine of Baireuth describes her as short and lusty, and remarkably coarse, without grace or animation. At first sight, any one would have judged her to be a third-rate German actress. Her clothes looked as though made for a big doll, they were so old-fashioned and decked with tinsel. Along the facing of her gown were orders and little things of metal; a dozen orders, and as many portraits of saints, of relics, and the like; so that when she walked it was with a jingling, as if you heard a mule with bells to its harness,' a description which must be liberally discounted to get at the truth. The Margravine saw oddities wherever she looked, and was smart first and truthful afterwards. In her early life the Czarina's name was Martha. Her mother was a Livonian serf. She was left an orphan at the age of three. A Lutheran clergyman named Gluck saw her at the house of the priest of her native parish, who seems to have constituted himself the guardian of the poor, friendless orphan, and took her into his house in the capacity of nurse or 'slavey.' In exchange for her services she received her food, a fair education, and her clothing. As she grew up to girlhood she had her fair share of admirers, of whom she specially favored a Livonian sergeant of the Swedish army. The day after their marriage the town of Marienburg was stormed by the

Russians, and Martha's sergeant slain. As the captives filed past the Russian General Bauer, Martha's grief, tears, beauty, and youth provoked his sympathy. Learning her story, he took her into his own household as housekeeper and mistress. Here Prince Menzik off one day saw her, and in his turn was fascinated by the romance of her story and the beauty of her person. He begged her as a present from the General. Martha was called in to decide whether she would go with the Prince or stay, the advantages of both alternatives being fairly set before her. She made a deep courtesy to the two gentlemen and retired, not having spoken a word. There can be little doubt in what capacity she lived with the Prince, at whose house the Czar one day saw her, and in his turn succumbed to her persuasive influ

ence.

In the year 1704 she, being then seventeen years of age, became the Czar's mistress, and afterwards his empress, first by a private and then by a public marriage, and finally, at his decease, autocrat of All the Russias. The Czar got deeply attached to her, and was never happy when my Catharine' was absent. She was cheerful and lively, of a sweet, pliable disposition; never peevish or perverse; and moved around her bear of a husband, anticipating his every want. She bore the burden of the honor to which she had not been born with meekness and lowliness, and never forgot her humble birth and upbringing. What! thou good man! art thou still alive?' she said in the days of her splendor to Wurmb, who had been her fellowservant in Gluck's household, he as tutor, she as maid-of-all-work. 'I will provide for thee,' she said, and got him a pension. She befriended the family of her benefactor Gluck, who had died a prisoner in Moscow; his son she took as her page, gave portions to his widow and two eldest daughters, and appointed the youngest a maid of honor at her court. Catharine's ready wit once saved the Czar and his army from dishonor and destruction. It was during one of his campaigns against the Turks. The Russian army was completely surrounded; provisions and ammunition were all but exhausted, and every attempt to break out of this trap resulted in repulse and defeat. Crushed down with despair,