lga.
The site of the upper town, as the older portion of the place
situated about the Kremlin is called, is quite remarkable, being a
sort of overhanging bluff, commanding a level view as far as the eye
can reach over an undulating country, through which winds the noblest
river of Russia. The climate here is subject to great extremes of
heat and cold,--the mercury freezing, it is said, in winter, and
sometimes bursting in the heat of the summer sun. As we stood upon
this bluff enjoying the comprehensive view, the heat of the mid-day
hour and the power of the sun were quite tropical. Indeed, without
the partial shelter of an umbrella it would have been as insufferable
as mid-day exposure in Ceylon or Singapore. All animal life, so far
as possible, sought the shade; and the fine black horses attached to
the vehicle which had transported us from the plain below, though
driven at a quiet pace, were flecked with foam and panted with
distended nostrils. The thermometer on the shady side of the
governor's palace close at hand indicated 89 deg. Fahrenheit. To the
great extremes of overpowering cold and enervating heat some of the
apparent incongruities of the native character may doubtless be
attributed. For more than half the year the people are as it were
hermetically sealed up by the frost, and in the brief but intense
heat of the summer they are rendered inert and slothful by the effect
of tropical heat.

We were told that there was here six hundred years ago a very large
city, but that to-day the place cannot boast over forty-five
thousand fixed population. Thus the story of faded grandeur is
written all over the plains of northern Europe and Asia. By ascending
what is called Mininn's Tower, one of the finest panoramic views is
obtained which can well be conceived of. A vast alluvial plain is
spread out before the eye covered with fertile fields and thrifty
woods, through which from northwest to southeast flows the Volga like
a silver thread upon a verdant ground, extending from horizon to
horizon. On this river, which is the main artery of central Russia,
are seen scores of swift-moving steamers bound to Saratoff,
Astrakhan, and the Caspian Sea, fourteen hundred miles away, while a
forest of shipping is gathered about the shore of the lower town and
covering the Oka River, which here joins the Volga. From this outlook
the author counted over two hundred steamboats in sight at the same
time,--all side-wheelers and clippe