During the whole of the seventeenth century, and nearly half-way through the eighteenth, barbarism continued to rest upon the Russian empire. The earlier czars, emerging from the Tartar yoke, a long series of murderous Ivans and Fodors mounted the throne, each over a deposed predecessor. At length came the Romanoff's, the first of whom, Michael, of Prussian ancestry, was elected and proclaimed in 1613. He was the contemporary and the vanquished rival of Gustavus Adolphus, of Sweden. His grandson, Peter the Great, lighted the first taper of civilization, and died in 1725, when his wife, an abandoned woman from the lowest class of life, re-. sumed the early imperial crimes, by stealing the crown of the lawful heir. The princes of Menzikoff, sons of the pastry cook of Peter the Great, restored the rightful sovereign, whose early death, at 15 years of age, was the more deplorable because he was the last male Romanoff. His aunt, the Empress Anne, in a ten years' reign of terror, covered Russia with scaffolds, and peopled Siberia with exiles. The unhappy Ivan, cited in Stedingk's letter, her lawful successor, was snatched from his cradle by the Empress Elizabeth, and hidden in a dungeon. The usurper imported to her succession a foreign nephew, a duke of Hólstein, Gottorp. This was the wretched Peter the Third, whose wife, Sophia of Anhalt Zerbst, the daughter of a petty German prince, was baptized by the Russian priests Catherine. She was also the cousin of her husband, but never was marriage more ill-assorted. The czar, in hopeless desperation at his inferiority, plotted repudiation and death for his wife. A base treachery recoiled upon himself, and his indignant nobles cast him into prison, where, and it may be unknown to Catherine, his keepers, impatient with a slow poison, strangled him.

Such was the introduction of a daughter of little Anhalt to the throne of all the Russias,-vast regions which, under her auspices, expanded unceasingly. It was first, during her reign, that Russia took positive rank with the power and greatness of the western nations. She introduced order and law into a vast chaos of barbarity. Her activity founded academies, factories, public banks, and foundries. In her capital alone, she educated 7,000 pauper children, and, to persuade her ignorant millions, submitted herself first, in the empire, to the experiment of vaccination. She made commercial treaties with Europe and China. Her navigators explored the remote Pacific, while she at home, corresponding with Voltaire, Fox, and d'Alembert, published her own manuscript treatises upon philosophy and law. The Jesuits, driven from every other region in Europe, found refuge only with the Greek high priestess. Her genius was wonderful her activity and ambition without limit. She rose at six, lighted her own fire in the winter morning, and forthwith received her ministers for work. These ministers were little else than clerks, to whom she dictated dispatches and decrees, her own brain being sole council

of state.

In youth she had been beautiful, and when Stedingk first saw her, there remained abundant traces of her early charms. A brilliant, pure complexion, aquiline nose, comely mouth, and blue eyes deepened under dark brows, but softening with a smile gentle and winning, are all gracefully recorded by one of the most accomplished and observant foreigners at her court. Her dress, at this period, when the outlines of her figure began to betray the effects of time, was an ample robe, garnished with embroidery and jewels, and made with wide falling sleeves, after the ancient costume of Moscow. Her portrait, the usual gift of a condescending sovereign, was one of Stedingk's early tokens of her favor. The picture, although failing, perhaps, in justice to a proverbial majesty of look, recalls forcibly the superb features of Siddons, as drawn in the modern Tragic Muse.

Such was the famous empress of whom Stedingk became the much-trusted confidant. She is said to have never abandoned a friend or an undertaking; her constancy being unbounded in all relations of life, save that which a faithless and unworthy husband, "like the base

Catherine and Gustavus, late mortal enemies, were now loving friends. The new relations were brought, by the adroit management of Stedingk, to a pitch of mutual enthusiasm, which fast ripened into a coalition against France. The plan was drawn out in full, and the ambition of Gustavus rejoiced in the prospect of leading allied Swedes and Russians to the rescue of French "legitimacy." The project which might have led to great events, was cut short by the murder of the king. In the midst of an activity, in strong contrast with the negligence of his first campaign, he fell a victim, at last, to the hostility of his offended and uncompromising nobles. He had been cautioned earnestly by many friends at home and abroad against a conspiracy well known on the other side of the Baltic. Even on the day of the fatal masquerade, he received a letter urging him not to attend it. All such counsel, however, he treated with disdain, and wrapping himself in a domino with silken mask, he entered the theatre at midnight. A dozen masks collecting together, and without apparent rudeness, managed presently to surround him, and the report of a pistol, although scarcely louder than the buzz of conversation, or the clang of the orchestra, startled and terrified the assembly. The poor king fell, mortally wounded, in the arms of his devoted Count Armfelt. Utter confusion followed. An immense crowd, swaying to and fro, dispersed the conspirators. The pistol was found upon the floor, but the hand that pointed it was hidden among the innocent. Gustavus alone seemed to preserve his presence of mind. "Let the doors be closed," he exclaimed ; "let all unmask," and looking around upon every face, and seeing but one general expression of alarm and grief, a natural greatness in his soul rose uppermost. "God grant," said he, "God grant he may escape!" There were nine accomplices present. Eight of them left the theatre with the awe-stricken crowd, all alike examined, but passing out without suspicion. A single guest still lingered, the most impressed apparently of all who had been present, and at length, slowly and sadly approaching the officer of the guard, saluted courteously and said, "As for me, sir, I trust you entertain no suspicion of me. man was the assassin.

This

He also passed unsuspected; and in the solitude there was now no evidence beyond the curdled blood upon the floor, the pistol already found, and the knife sharpened like a dagger, which lay beneath a pile of masks and artificial flowers. The pistol sufficed. An armorer declared to whom he had lately sold it. The purchaser, a nobleman, named Ankarström, lately commanding a troop of life-guards, at once avowed the act and the cause. He had been tried a short time before for some misdemeanor, and although acquitted, resolved upon revenge. A desperate man, in short, he readily listened to the conspiracy, and became its agent. His accomplices, names among the highest in the realm, were disclosed immediately, but most of them escaped, while Ankarström died as cruel a death as human ingenuity could devise.

Meanwhile, Gustavus was slowly dying. His last hours were the greatest of his life. He forgave his assassins. He prayed his brother to watch over the tender years of his son; he named a council of state for the regency; appointed Armfelt governor of the city, and surrounded by his family, died with words of faith and love still trembling on his lips.

He was a picturesque, romantic king; at one time, like his ancestor, Gustaf-Vasa, haranguing the Dalesmen, in their Mora valleys, and again, marching victoriously at their head against the invading Danes. The tourist throughout Sweden will find a traveller's interest constantly recurring to his story. His beautiful opera house fronts upon the great square of Stockholm, the death scene of its founder, and the cradle of Jenny Lind. Royal blood has left its mark upon the stage, as lasting as the poor Italian's in the hall of Holyrood. Does it troop fitly with the first note of Lind, and the first bound of Taglioni? These, at least, are its fellows in local fame, and the traveller who recalls the "actor" sneer of Catherine, may moralize them like the melancholy Jacques, into a thousand similes.

Stedingk had hitherto met with no misfortune so distressful. His manly heart bitterly deplored the fate of his benefactor. He had no friend whom he loved so well; his boyish playmate, companion of youth, and comrade in arms; and to these endearing recollections there was added, on the part of Stedingk, an inherent loyalty of disposition, which signalized the ardor of

his personal affections. He was destined to a series of similar trials. A few months later his friend, Count Fersen, himself soon to be torn in pieces by a mob, sent him first intelligence of the death of Marie Antoinette.* Fersen's devotion to the unhappy queen is well known. Evil spirits have tried to blacken her memory with reproach in this, and the same defamers would have given their own color to the emotion pictured in Fersen's correspondence. In the following letter, which was found reverently preserved among Stedingk's private papers, there is a depth of feeling unmistakably the offering of an honorable heart. I trust these traits may still be discovered in an English version.

"Brussels, 21 October, 1793.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,—

The certainty of your faithful sympathy could alone induce me to write to you in this moment of grief; and the certainty of your devotion to a princess whose fate we can now only deplore, leads me, my friend, to send you the news of her death. Let us weep together. She has been put to death by savage monsters. Her condemnation and execution required but two days. I have no positive details yet, but her great soul, and the courage she has shown in four years of wretchedness, well warrant a heroism for the last hours of a life so beautiful. Your heart shares my grief, and you heart only can conceive it. It is beyond the sense of words.

"AXEL FERSEN."

Count Axel von Fersen, the chief of an ancient Swedish family, was educated principally at the military academy of Turin. He entered the service of his country a captain of dragoon guards; but wearied with inactivity, he followed Stedingk to Versailles, and became his comrade in the "Royal Regiment of Swedes." He was nine years younger than Stedingk (having been born in 1755), and served in our revolution later than he, under Rochambeau, receiving from Washington's own hands the badge of the Cincinnati. Upon his return to France, he was named colonel of his old regiment. A remarkable elegance of person, much wealth, and talents of a showy order, soon obtained for

more

him high consideration at court, and he became a devoted, fascinated adheren't of the Bourbons. The queen, especially, distinguished him, and in the memorable flight to Varennes, he was the disguised coachman of the unhappy fugitives. They were overtaken and captured, and Fersen escaped to Prague, where he was secretly employed by Gustavus the Third, in furthering the Russian and Swedish project for re-instating the French royal family. The plan was, as we have seen, cut short by the murder of Gustavus. The guillotine began its fearful work in Paris, and there was no French exile wandering about the world wretched than this faithful Swede. He returned at last to his native country. Wealth, rank, royal favor, and fine capacities, elevated him to high trust and dignity. He became the favorite of the king. His sister enjoyed, in an equal degree, the favor of the queen, and both grew haughty and unpopular. Fersen was made Grand Marshal of Sweden, and a host of enemies plotted his ruin. Opportunity soon served. The sudden death of the crown prince gave rise to suspicion. Poison and the Fersens were words whispered together in the ears of the people. Suspicion and resentment spread like a dark cloud over the city, and the sight of Fersen, in his gilded coach of state, marshalling the funeral pageant, was a signal for the storm to burst. The troops looked on with indifference. They lined the street, but it does not appear that a single hand was raised in defence of the victim, whom the mob slowly and deliberately tortured to death. The sister, disguised as a Dalecarlian peasant girl, was hunted furiously through the country, and after infinite peril, escaped across the Baltic.

Stedingk, still at St. Petersburg, learned the news of his friend's death in a dispatch from the Swedish Foreign Office. His official acknowledgment of this dispatch is characteristic.

*

*

* "That which is most unhappy in this atrocious crime, is the dishonorable mark it leaves upon the Swedish name. It can never be effaced unless the swiftest, severest punishment prove to the world the horror with which a deed like this inspires the nation. If I were insensible to the fate of a friend whose worth and honor no one

+ Swenskt Konversation's Lexikon.

says John

AMERICAN WINES!"
Bull, setting down his glass of

untasted port in amazement. "American Wines! If Catawba and Isabella once get domiciled in the London docks, there is an end, sir, to church and state, constitution, loyalty, liberty of the subject, army and navy, game laws, magna charta, pension list, courts of chancery, royal prerogative, and, in fact, sir, to everything that is respectable. The time has come, sir, when it is the duty of every Briton to set his face against these new-fangled enterprises. Catawba! faugh! bring me some small beer!"

There are many persons, even on this side of the Atlantic, who look at objects through a reversed glass, very much like our respected relative on the other side. They remind one of those old Austrian generals who said of Napoleon, "This fellow does not fight according to our established system of tactics; he is an innovator; look at his troops! instead of having their hair powdered and properly put up in a pigtail, every head in the army of France is cropped, and he even presumes to substitute loose trousers for tight breeches and spatterdashes; perfectly absurd, to pretend to carry on a campaign without the properHark! The French drums again; let's be off, fly, run, never mind the colors, in time this young man will find out his error; we will abandon the field to him for the present, and, by-and-by, come back and retake it !”

Let us look through the green spectacles of this Monthly of ours, and see things in a new light, at least.

There seems to be a perpetual balance of compensation throughout the world. Art has exhausted itself in the Greek marble. Not so; painting succeeds, and the "Virgin" of Raphael finds devotees more numerous than the "Jupiter Olympius" of Phidias. Cadmus brings the alphabet from Phoenicia; Egypt invents papyrus; the jealousy of the Ptolemies prevents Eumenes of Pergamis obtaining enough of this article for his library, so he substitutes parchment; paper supersedes parchment; Faust leaves his imprint on the paper, and goes off in a cloud of brimstone to the other world; and Morse, guiding an element hitherto the most intangible and impracticable in nature, flashes intelligence across a continent in a second. So, too,

The

the master ship-builder, looking at the place where the live oak forest stands no more, says, "We must build ships of iron." So, too, we substitute coal for wood, gas for oil, steam for sails. For every want there is a compensation. How does it stand with wines? This is an important question. tendrils of the vine, are intertwined with civilization and refinement in every age. "The thyrsus guides the savage and ungovernable panthers;" so the Greek loved to typify its power over barbaric nature. To Bacchus, more than to any other god, do the ancients ascribe the greatest achievements; "especially was he celebrated for his advancement of morals, legislation and commerce, for the culture of the vine and the rearing of bees." There are mysterious truths in that old heathen mythology; truths well worth the attention of the wise in these blatant tintrumpet days, when the most brilliant assortment of public virtues is kept on hand constantly by every threadbare politician, and exposed to the crowd, like gold watches in a mock-auction shop. "For every want there is a compensation;" and now, while large bodies of men are moved by the temperance question, at the very outstart, it is important to consider this, and to estimate what effect. the culture of the vine will have upon the American people. If we compare the vine-growing with the non-vinegrowing countries of Europe, we find that drunkenness, with its car-loads of evil, traverses the non-producing north only, while the south furnishes a prevailing example of national sobriety. us turn our eyes, then, to these great facts, and profit by them, instead of watching the efforts of political philanthropists, who seem obstinately bent upon driving human nature tandem through every state, with a horse-whip. And in this relation it is well to observe, that by the abstract of the seventh census, we are informed that the imports of foreign wines in the United States for the year 1851, amounts to little over six millions of gallons, while our home manufactures of whisky, ale, and spirituous liquors, reached the enormous sum of eighty-six millions of gallons; one quarter of a gallon for each person, and in value only ten cents per year, is the fearful wine score of this inebriated nation, while temperate France consumes nine hun

Let