Our poet has been rigidly suppressed, from the time we let go the anchor.  When it was announced that we were going to visit the Emperor of Russia, the fountains of his great deep were broken up, and he rained ineffable bosh for four-and-twenty hours.  Our original anxiety as to what we were going to do with ourselves, was suddenly transformed into anxiety about what we were going to do with our poet.  The problem was solved at last.  Two alternatives were offered him—­he must either swear a dreadful oath that he would not issue a line of his poetry while he was in the Czar’s dominions, or else remain under guard on board the ship until we were safe at Constantinople again.  He fought the dilemma long, but yielded at last.  It was a great deliverance.  Perhaps the savage reader would like a specimen of his style.  I do not mean this term to be offensive.  I only use it because “the gentle reader” has been used so often that any change from it can not but be refreshing: 

          “Save us and sanctify us, and finally, then,
          See good provisions we enjoy while we journey to Jerusalem. 
          For so man proposes, which it is most true
          And time will wait for none, nor for us too.”

The sea has been unusually rough all day.  However, we have had a lively time of it, anyhow.  We have had quite a run of visitors.  The Governor-General came, and we received him with a salute of nine guns.  He brought his family with him.  I observed that carpets were spread from the pier-head to his carriage for him to walk on, though I have seen him walk there without any carpet when he was not on business.  I thought may be he had what the accidental insurance people might call an extra-hazardous polish ("policy” joke, but not above mediocrity,) on his boots, and wished to protect them, but I examined and could not see that they were blacked any better than usual.  It may have been that he had forgotten his carpet, before, but he did not have it with him, anyhow.  He was an exceedingly pleasant old gentleman; we all liked him, especially Blucher.  When he went away, Blucher invited him to come again and fetch his carpet along.

Prince Dolgorouki and a Grand Admiral or two, whom we had seen yesterday at the reception, came on board also.  I was a little distant with these parties, at first, because when I have been visiting Emperors I do not like to be too familiar with people I only know by reputation, and whose moral characters and standing in society I can not be thoroughly acquainted with.  I judged it best to be a little offish, at first.  I said to myself, Princes and Counts and Grand Admirals are very well, but they are not Emperors, and one can not be too particular about who he associates with.

Baron Wrangel came, also.  He used to be Russian Ambassador at Washington.  I told him I had an uncle who fell down a shaft and broke himself in two, as much as a year before that.  That was a falsehood, but then I was not going to let any man eclipse me on surprising adventures, merely for the want of a little invention.  The Baron is a fine man, and is said to stand high in the Emperor’s confidence and esteem.