I passed through Novogorod, which was, six centuries ago, a republic associated with the Hanse towns, and which has preserved for a long period a spirit of republican independence.  Persons have been pleased to say that freedom was not reclaimed in Europe before the last century; on the contrary, it is rather despotism, which is a modern invention.  Even in Russia the slavery of the peasants was only introduced in the sixteenth century.  Up to the reign of Peter I. the form of all the ukases was:  The boyars have advised, the czar will decree.  Peter I. although in many ways he has done infinite good to Russia, humbled the grandees, and united in himself the temporal and spiritual power, in order to remove all obstacles to his designs.  Richelieu acted in the same manner in France; Peter I. was therefore a great admirer of his.  It will be recollected that on being shown his tomb at Paris, he exclaimed, “Great man!  I would give one half of my empire to learn from thee how to govern the other.”  The czar on this occasion was a great deal too modest, for he had the advantage over Richelieu of being a great warrior, and what is more, the founder of the navy and commerce of his country; while Richelieu has done nothing but govern tyrannically at home, and craftily abroad.  But to return to Novogorod.  Ivan Vasilewitch possessed himself of it in 1470, and destroyed its liberties; he removed from it to the Kremlin at Moscow, the great bell called in Russian, Wetchevoy kolokol, at the sound of which the citizens had been accustomed to assemble at the market place, to deliberate on public matters.  With the loss of liberty, Novogorod had the mortification to see the gradual disappearance of its population, its commerce, and its wealth:  so withering and destructive is the breath of arbitrary power, says the best historian of Russia.  Even at the present day the city of Novogorod presents an aspect of singular melancholy; avast inclosure indicates that it was formerly large and populous, and you see nothing in it but scattered houses, the inhabitants of which seem to be placed there like figures weeping over the tombs.  The same spectacle is now probably offered by the beautiful city of Moscow; but the public spirit will rebuild it, as it has reconquered it.

CHAPTER 16.

St. Petersburg.

From Novogorod to Petersburg, you see scarcely anything but marshes, and you arrive in one of the finest cities in the world, as if, with a magic wand, an enchanter had made all the wonders of Europe and Asia start up from the middle of the deserts.  The foundation of Petersburg offers the greatest proof of that ardor of Russian will, which recognizes nothing as impossible:  everything in the environs is humble; the city is built upon a marsh, and even the marble rests on piles; but you forget when looking at these superb edifices, their frail foundations, and cannot help meditating on the miracle of so fine a city being built in so