architecture, common to the two cities alike: the
design of the Hermitage in fact came from Munich. St. Petersburg,
like Munich too, has been forced into rapid growth; indeed while
looking at the works raised by successive Tsars, I was reminded
of the boast of Augustus that he found Rome of brick and left her
of marble.

St. Petersburg, though sometimes decried as a city of shams, is
certainly not surpassed in the way of show by any capital in Europe.
As to natural situation she may be said to be at once fortunate and
infelicitous: the flatness of the land is not redeemed by fertility,
the monotony of the panorama is not broken by mountains; the city
rides as a raft upon the waters, so heavily freighted as to run the
risk of sinking. And yet I know of no capital more imposing when
taken from the strong points of view. Almost beyond parallel is the
array of palaces and public buildings which meets the traveller's eye
in a walk or sail from the English quay up to the Gardens of the
Summer Palace. The structures it is true tend a little too much
of what may be termed buckram and fustian styles; indeed there
is scarcely a form or a detail which an architect would care to
jot down in his note-book. And yet the general effect is grand:
a big river rushing with large volume of water through the arches
of bridges, along granite quays and before marble palaces, is a
noble and living presence in the midst of city life. The waters of
"the great Neva" and of "the little Neva" appear as an omnipresence;
the rivers are in the streets, and great buildings, such as the
Admiralty, the Fortress, and the Cathedral of St. Peter and St.
Paul, ride as at anchor on a swelling flood. The views from the
three chief bridges--Nicholas Bridge, Palace Bridge, and Troitska
Bridge--are eminently palatial and imperial. The Academy of Arts,
the Academy of Sciences, St. Isaac's Cathedral, the Admiralty,
the Winter Palace, the Hermitage, and the fortress and cathedral
of St. Peter and St. Paul, give to the stranger an overpowering
impression of the wealth and the strength of the empire. The Englishman,
while standing on these bridges, will naturally recall analogous
positions on the river Thames; such comparison is not wholly to the
disadvantage of the northern capital, yet on the banks of the Neva
rise no structures which in architectural design equal St. Paul's
Cathedral, Somerset House, Westminster Abbey, and the Houses of
Parliament. Indeed, with t