lendid edifices: the Academy of Arts, the
Academy of Sciences and a number of others are reflected in the Neva.
There was no grander sight on a moonlight night, I was told, than the
bulk of those majestic piles, resembling ancient temples. Altogether,
St. Petersburg took me back to the times of Agamemnon, partly through
the grandeur of the buildings and partly through the popular garb,
which reminded me of the dress of antiquity.

Though I have just spoken of moonlight, I was unable to enjoy it at
the time of my arrival, for in the month of July there is not a single
hour of actual darkness in St. Petersburg. The sun sets at about
half-past ten, and it is merely dusk until twilight, which begins half
an hour after midnight, so that one can always see plainly. I have
often supped at eleven o'clock by daylight.

My first care was to take a good rest, for, after Riga, the roads had
been most horrible. Large stones, one on top of the other, gave my
carriage, which was one of the roughest in the world, a violent shock
at every moment. And the inns being so bad as to exclude every
possibility of staying at them, we had jolted and jerked on to St.
Petersburg without a stop.

I was far from recovered from all my fatigue--since the term of my
residence in St. Petersburg had been only twenty-four hours--when a
visitor was announced in the person of the French Ambassador, Count
Esterhazy. He congratulated me on my arrival at St. Petersburg,
telling me that he was about to inform the Empress of it and at the
same time to take her orders for my presentation. Very little later I
received a visit from the Count de Choiseul-Gouffier. While conversing
with him I confessed what happiness it would give me to see the great
Catherine, but I did not dissemble the fright and embarrassment I
expected to undergo when I should be presented to that powerful
Princess. "You will find it quite easy," he replied. "When you see the
Empress you will be surprised at her good nature; she is really an
excellent woman." I acknowledge that I was astonished by his remark,
the justice of which I could scarcely believe, in view of what I had
heard up to that time. It is true that the Prince de Ligne, during the
charming narration of his journey in the Crimea, had recounted several
facts proving that this great Princess had manners that were as
gracious as they were simple, but an excellent woman was hardly the
thing to call her.

However, the same evening