atches, and their harness formed of overlapping silver
scales. The Russians being the best coachmen in the world, these teams
dash past each other at furious speed, often escaping collision by the
breadth of a hair, but never coming in violent contact.

With the approach of winter the nobility returned from their estates,
the diplomatists from their long summer vacation, and the Imperial Court
from Moscow, and the previous social desolation of the capital came
speedily to an end. There were dinners and routs in abundance, but the
season of balls was not fairly inaugurated until invitations had been
issued for the first at the Winter Palace. This is usually a grand
affair, the guests numbering from fifteen hundred to two thousand. We
were agreeably surprised at finding half-past nine fixed as the hour of
arrival, and took pains to be punctual; but there were already a hundred
yards of carriages in advance. The toilet, of course, must be made at
home, and the huge pelisses of fur so adjusted as not to disarrange
head-dresses, lace, crinoline, or uniform: the footmen must be prompt,
on reaching the covered portal, to promote speedy alighting and
unwrapping, which being accomplished, each sits guard for the night over
his own special pile of pelisses and furred boots.

When the dresses are shaken out and the gloves smoothed, at the foot of
the grand staircase, an usher, in a short, bedizened red tunic and white
knee-breeches, with a cap surmounted by three colossal white plumes upon
his head, steps before you and leads the way onward through the spacious
halls, ablaze with light from thousands of wax candles. I always admired
the silent gravity of these ushers, and their slow, majestic, almost
mysterious march,--until one morning, at home, when I was visited by
four common-looking Russians, in blue caftans, who bowed nearly to the
floor and muttered congratulations. It was a deputation of the ushers,
making their rounds for New-Year's gifts!

Although the streets of St. Petersburg are lighted with gas, the palaces
and private residences are still illuminated only with wax candles. Gas
is considered plebeian, but it has probably also been found to be
disagreeable in the close air of the hermetically sealed apartments.
Candles are used in such profusion that I am told thirty thousand are
required to light up an Imperial ball. The quadruple rows of columns
which support the Hall of St. George are spirally entwined with garlan