ial
presence. At the end of an hour the dazzling group gathered on the right
equalled in numbers the long line marching up on the left,--and still
they came. It was a luxury of color, scarcely to be described,--all
flowery and dewy tints, in a setting of white and gold. There were
crimson, maroon, blue, lilac, salmon, peach-blossom, mauve, Magenta,
silver-gray, pearl-rose, daffodil, pale orange, purple, pea-green,
sea-green, scarlet, violet, drab, and pink,--and, whether by accident or
design, the succession of colors never shocked by too violent contrast.
This was the perfection of scenic effect; and we lingered, enjoying it
exquisitely, until the the last of several hundred ladies closed the
wonderful spectacle.

The festival of Epiphany is celebrated by the blessing of the waters of
the Neva, followed by a grand military review on the Admiralty Square.
We were invited to witness both ceremonies from the windows of the
Winter Palace, where, through the kindness of Prince Dolgorouki, we
obtained favorable points of view. As the ceremonies last two or three
hours, an elegant breakfast was served to the guests in the Moorish
Hall. The blessing of the Neva is a religious festival, with the
accompaniment of tapers, incense, and chanting choirs, and we could only
see that the Emperor performed his part uncloaked and bare-headed in the
freezing air, finishing by descending the steps of an improvised chapel
and well, (the building answered both purposes,) and drinking the water
from a hole in the ice. Far and wide over the frozen surface similar
holes were cut, where, during the remainder of the day, priests
officiated, and thousands of the common people were baptized by
immersion. As they generally came out covered with ice, warm booths were
provided for them on the banks, where they thawed themselves out,
rejoicing that they would now escape sickness or misfortune for a year
to come.

The review requires a practised military pen to do it justice, and I
fear I must give up the attempt. It was a "small review," only about
twenty-five thousand troops being under arms. In the uniformity of size
and build of the men, exactness of equipment, and precision of movement,
it would be difficult to imagine anything more perfect. All sense of the
individual soldier was lost in the grand sweep and wheel and march of
the columns. The Circassian chiefs, in their steel skull-caps and shirts
of chain mail, seemed to have ridden into their