THE ARCHBISHOP.
211
To an amateur of the art, the music of the imperial chapel is alone worth a journey to Petersburg. The sweet, the powerful, and all the finest shades of expression, are observed with a depth of feeling and a skill which cannot be too much admired. The Russians are musical; this cannot be doubted by those who have heard the music in their churches. I listened without daring to breathe, and I longed for my learned friend Meyerbeer to explain to me the beauties which I so deeply felt, but which I was unable to comprehend. He would have understood them by the inspiration they would have communicated, for his admiration of models is expressed by his rivalling them.
During the Те Deum, at the moment when the two choirs were responding to each other, the tabernacle opened, and the priests were seen, their heads adorned with sparkling tiaras of jewels, and their bodies clothed in robes of gold, over which their silver beards fell majestically; some of these beards reach as far as the waist. The assistants make as dazzling an appearance as the priests. This court is certainly magnificent, and the military costume shines also in all its splendour. I saw with delight the people bringing to God the homage of their riches and their pomp. The sacred music was listened to by a profane auditory with a silence and attention, which would alone give an effect to chants less sublime than these. God was there, and his presence sanctifies even the court: the world and sense were nothing more than accessory objects — the reigning thought was heaven.
The officiating archbishop did not disgrace the
212THE EMPEROR KISSES HIS HAND.
majesty of the scene. If not handsome, he is venerable ; his small figure is like that of a weasel, but his head is white with age. He has a care-worn and sickly appearance ; a priest, old and feeble, cannot be an ignoble object. At the close of the ceremony, the Emperor came and bent before him, respectfully kissing his hand.
The autocrat never fails to give an example of submission, when there is a hope that this example may be of profit to himself. I was interested in the poor archbishop, who appeared dying in the midst of his glory. The majestic figure of the Emperor, and his noble countenance, bending before the representative of religious power — the youthful couple — the imperial family—the spectators—in short, the whole assemblage that filled and animated the chapel, formed a subject for a picture. Before the ceremony, I thought the archbishop would have fainted. The court kept him waiting a long time, unmindful of the saying of Louis XVIIL, that " Punctuality is the politeness of kings." Notwithstanding the cunning expression of his countenance, this old man inspired me with compassion. He was so feeble, and yet he sustained fatigue with so much patience, that I pitied, if I did not respect him ; for whether his patience was the result of piety, or of ambition, it was cruelly Tried.
As to the person of the young Duke of Leuchtcn-berg, it was in vain that I endeavoured to reconcile myself to it; it did not please me better at the close of the ceremony than at the beginning. This young man has a fine military bearing, and that is all. He reminded me of what I knew before, namely, that,
TALISMAN OF M. DE BEAUHARNAIS.213
in our days, princes are more common than gentlemen. I should have said that the Emperor's guard would have been a more suitable place for the young duke than the Emperor's family. His countenance manifested no emotion at any of the ceremonies which appeared so touching to me — an indifferent spectator. I was carried there by mere curiosity, and yet I felt very deeply affected, whilst the son-in-law of the emperor, the hero of the scene, seemed uninterested with regard to all that passed around him. He has a vacant countenance, and appeared more taken up with his person than with what he was doin<2\ It can be seen that he reckons but little upon the good will of a court, where interested calculation prevails more completely than in any other, and where his unexpected fortune may procure him more enemies than friends. This young prince has, nevertheless, a slight resemblance to his father, whose countenance was intelligent and kind. Notwithstanding the tight Russian uniform, in which every one must feel fettered and confined, it appeared to me that his step was light, like that of a Frenchman. He little thought when passing before me, that there was one near him who carried on his breast a relic so precious to both, but more particularly so to the son of Eugene Beauharnais. I allude to the Arabic talisman, that M. de Beauharnais, the father of the viceroy of Italy, and the grandfather of the Duke of Leuchtenberg, gave to my mother as he passed the chamber which she inhabited in the Carmelite convent, on his way to the scaffold.
The religious ceremony in the Greek chapel was followed by a second nuptial benediction by a Ca-
214COLUMN OF ALEXANDER.
tholic priest, which took place in one of the halls of the palace, consecrated to tliis pious use for the day only. After these two marriages, the bride and bridegroom and their family met at table. I, not having permission to witness either the Catholic marriage or the banquet, followed the greater number of the courtly crowd, and went out to breathe a less stifling air, congratulating myself on the little effect that my dilapidated boot had produced. Some persons, however, spoke to me of it laughingly, and that was all. Both in good and in evil, nothing that merely regards ourselves is as important as we fancy it.
On departing from the palace I found my carriage again without any trouble. There is never, I repeat, a large concourse in Russia. The space is always too vast for what is done there. This is the advantage of a country where there is no nation. In a community thus ordered, a crowd would be equivalent to a revolution.
The void which is every where observable, causes the public structures to appear too small for the places in which they stand; they seem lost in space. The column of Alexander passes for being higher than that of the Place Vendôme, owing to the dimensions of its pedestal. The shaft consists of one single block of granite, the largest that has ever been shaped by the hand of man. Tliis immense column, raised between the winter palace and the crescent, which forms the other extremity of the square, when viewed from the palace, appears to the eye as nothing more than a pole, and the houses around might be taken for palisades. In the square a hundred thousand men
FALSE TASTE OF THE RUSSIANS.215
can perform their manoeuvres, without its appearing filled or thickly peopled. It is enclosed by the winter palace, the facades of which are rebuilt on the model of the old palace of the Empress Elizabeth. Here is at least a relief to the eyes, after the poor and frigid imitations of the monuments of Athens and Rome. The style is that of the Regency, or Louis XIV. degenerated, but the scale is very large. The opposite side of the square is terminated by a semicircle or crescent of buildings, in which are established the bureaus of various ministers of state. These edifices are mostly constructed in the ancient Grecian style. Singular taste ! Temples erected to clerks! The buildings of the Admiralty are in the same square. Their small pillars and gilded turrets produce a picturesque effect. An avenue of trees ornaments the square opposite this spot, and renders it less monotonous. On the other side of the immense Russian Champ de Mars stands the church of Saint Isaac, with its colossal peristyle, and its brazen dome, still half concealed by the scaffolding of the architect. Further on is seen the palace of the senate, and other structures still in the form of pagan temples. Beyond, in an angle of this long square, at its extremity on the Neva, stands the statue of Peter the Great, which disappears in immensity like a pebble on the shore. These above-named edifices contain material enough