tion was a very wise one; for, excepting in the
season of the hard frosts, a day without rain, or snow, or wind, is a
marvel. In Italy, Spain, and France, one can reckon on fine weather, and
bad weather is the exception, but it is quite the contrary in Russia.
Ever since I have known this home of frost and the cold north wind, I
laugh when I hear travelling Russians talking of the fine climate of
their native country. However, it is a pardonable weakness, most of us
prefer "mine" to "thine;" nobles affect to consider themselves of purer
blood than the peasants from whom they sprang, and the Romans and other
ancient nations pretended that they were the children of the gods, to
draw a veil over their actual ancestors who were doubtless robbers. The
truth is, that during the whole year 1756 there was not one fine day in
Russia, or in Ingria at all events, and the mere proofs of this statement
may be found in the fact that the tournament was not held in that year.
It was postponed till the next, and the princes, counts, barons, and
knights spent the winter in the capital, unless their purses forbade them
to indulge in the luxuries of Court life. The dear Prince of Courland was
in this case, to my great disappointment.

Having made all arrangements for my journey to Moscow, I got into my
sleeping carriage with Zaira, having a servant behind who could speak
both Russian and German. For twenty-four roubles the chevochic (hirer out
of horses) engaged to carry me to Moscow in six days and seven nights
with six horses. This struck me as being extremely cheap. The distance is
seventy-two Russian stages, almost equivalent to five hundred Italian
miles, or a hundred and sixty French leagues.

We set out just as a cannon shot from the citadel announced the close of
day. It was towards the end of May, in which month there is literally no
night at St. Petersburg. Without the report of the cannon no one would be
able to tell when the day ended and the night began. One can read a
letter at midnight, and the moonlight makes no appreciable difference.
This continual day lasts for eight weeks, and during that time no one
lights a candle. At Moscow it is different; a candle is always necessary
at midnight if one wished to read.

We reached Novgorod in forty-eight hours, and here the chevochic allowed
us a rest of five hours. I saw a circumstance there which surprised me
very much, though one has no business to be surprised at anything if on