enchanting and inspiring seclusion; close to the capital, in the circle
of my dearest recollections. I shall be able to see you every week, and
Jukovskii also. Petersburg is within an hour's drive. Living is cheap
here. I shall not want an equipage. What can be better?" And, in fact,
it is certain that he never was so perfectly happy in his society and
his occupations, and in himself, as in these summer and autumn months
which he passed, as he says:--

"In those bright days when yet all ignorant of fame,
And knowing neither care, system, nor art, nor aim,
Thy tutelary shades, O Tsarskoe! were flinging
Gay echoes to _his_ voice, the praise of Idlesse singing."

The beautiful retirement of Tsarskoe Selo was at this period dignified
by the presence of two great poets, each producing works worthy of the
imperial groves under whose shade they were meditated. Pushkin and
Jukovskii were not only residing here together, but they were engaged in
a friendly rivalry, and each writing so industriously as though
determined never to meet without some new poetic novelty. The deep
impression produced by Jukovskii's patriotic stanzas, written at this
period, entitled "Russian Glory," was worthily responded to by the noble
poems written by Pushkin, "To the Slanderers of Russia!" and "The
Anniversary of Borodino,"--all these works being spirited and majestic
embodiments of national triumph and exultation.

It is curious and delightful to remark, too, that the poets of Tsarskoe
Selo were occupied, at this period, with the composition of two similar
works of another and no less national character. These were "tales" or
legends in the popular taste of the Russian people, that of Jukovskii
was entitled "The Lay of the Tsar Berendei," and Pushkin's, "The Lay of
the Tsar Saltan."

In this year, too, was printed Pushkin's small collection of prose
tales, under the assumed name of Ivan Bielkin, which appeared with a
biographical preface, describing the life and character of the supposed
author. The tales are of extraordinary merit, remarkable for the
simplicity and natural grace of the style, and the preface is a specimen
of consummate excellence in point of quiet Addisonian humour.

In the year 1831, Pushkin girded up his loins to enter upon the great
historical task; which had so long attracted his imagination, and
which, difficult and arduous as was the undertaking, he was probably
better calculated than any literary man