Ar the head of this number of the EcLECTIC may be found a fine Engraving of the Kremlin of Moscow. It is a striking and accurate representation of that ancient and renowned fortress of central Russia. It is so celebrated in the history of that great empire-the scene and the birth place of so many historic events, and held in such high and holy reverence by all true-hearted Russians, that we have thought it an object of sufficient interest and instruction to bring it in this form before the eye and the mind of our readers. Having spent some time in traversing and examining its superb pal-, aces, its cathedral churches, its varied public buildings, its innumerable objects of interest which are garnered up within its precincts, and climbing its lofty tow-j ers a few months since, we may be pardoned for attempting to describe, as best we may, its vast collection of imperial treasures, with the edifices which are wal!ed within this remarkable inclosure. We would fain communicate to the mind of our readers the abiding interest and admiration which these marvelous scenes and objects imparted to us. But no pen and no language is adequate to convey a full impression. Nothing but an actual inspection and a personal examination and study of this great historic locality, and its countless objects can suffice to do

this.

The Kremlin is a colossal volume of Russian history, with many chapters and a long index of pages. It is a record of memorable events extending through centuries. It is the heart and soul of

Russia. It is the great central fortress of this mightiest empire of ancient or modern times. It is the throne of the Emperors. Here they have been crowned for ages. They would not dare to be crowned elsewhere. Here their thrones, and crowns, and imperial regalia are deposited for safe keeping for the admiration of posterity. The Kremlin is the grand sanctuary of religion. It is the center of Russian cathedrals and the consecrated residence of the Holy Synod of the Greek Church and her Metropolitan Bishops. Here they perform the coronation ceremonies and anoint the sovereigns of Russia with holy oil; and on these occasions the imperial court of Russia exhibits scenes of superlative magnificence, upon jeweled thrones, with diamond crowns, and precious stones of inestimable value.

The Kremlin is the pride of Moscow, and the holy city of all Russia. It was the chosen abode of the old Muscovite Princes-the long residence of the old Tartar sovereigns. It is the sacred Alcazar of the Sclavonians, the great Northern Acropolis, the far-famed Alhambra of the Russians. And it is the venerated mausoleum of the imperial family from Ivan the terrible down to Peter the Great. And here are the tombs of the Patriarchs taking their long slumbers with the mighty monarchs whom they crowned.

It incloses all that is most precious and sacred to the Russian race. 'Have you seen Moscow?" said Prince Gortschakoff to us at St. Petersburg. "Not yet, sir, Prince.” "Oh you must go and see Moscow! You do not see Russia unless you see Moscow," he added, with marked enthusiasm. Afterwards, when we had traversed Moscow and the heights of the Kremlin, we comprehended his meaning, and reverenced his princely enthusiasm. We now beg the reader carefully to examine the engraving. In viewing this colossal collection of palaces, cathedrals and towers, the spectator is supposed to stand upon the south bank of the river Mosqua, above the massive stone bridge, with its seven arches. The Mosqua is said to be here two hundred yards in width. Immediately behind the spectator on the broad street where he stands, is a long range of high buildings on the same side of

the highest tower in Moscow, exceeding two hundred feet. It has numerous stories or belfries, affording fine views as the visitor ascends the staircase. Close behind this tower, and near the entrance, stands the monster bell of Moscow, the greatest the world has seen. It has excited the wonder of ages.

Let us pause a moment to look at it. It is called the monarch. It is twentyone feet high and twenty-two in circumference. Its weight is over seventy tons. It is said to be worth, as old metal, a million and a half of dollars. It fell from the tower in 1737, and broke out a piece six feet long and three feet wide. This opening on one side forms the door of entrance, which we passed last year. We ascend to the first story in which is hung a solitary bell, weighing sixty-four tons. It requires the strength of three men to toll it three times a year. Ascending the upper belfries, we find more than forty bells in this tower, diminishing in size as we ascend. On Easter Eve a death-like silence reigns in all the streets, till on a sudden, at midnight, the thunders of the guns of the Kremlin burst forth, and the clangor of all the church bells of Moscow, many hundreds in number, are heard resounding over the city, while countless thousands of the inhabitants come forth, and with one voice all repeat the words, "Christ is risen," and all evince great joy at the glad tidings. We reach the summit of the tower, and look abroad over the most magnificent scene in Europe. Clustered around the tower upon which we stand are thirty-two churches, including the cathedrals within the walls of the Kremlin. We look down upon them all-domes, towers, golden spires, and imperial palaces. Beyond the walls of the Kremlin the eye wanders over the whole city of Moscow with its five hundred churches, and countless domes of green and red, starred with gold, glittering spires pointing upward in rich profusion over the city landscape far and near. What mighty and memorable events, and what tragic scenes have occurred and been witnessed within the purview of this high tower. Fearful calamities have visited Moscow along the line of its history. Six times it has been devastated and nearly destroyed by fire or sword. Tamerlane, the Eastern Destroyer, began

the list of fearful tragedies and ravished it. Next it fell into the hands of the Tartars, who sacked it, and put many of the inhabitants to the sword. Again in 1536 it was nearly consumed by fire, and two thousand of the inhabitants perished in the flames. In 1571, the Tartars fired the suburbs, and a furious wind drove the flames into the city, and not less than 100,000 persons perished by fire or sword. In 1611 a large portion of the city was again destroyed by fire. The terrible scenes in the modern burning of Moscow by order of Count Rostophin are still fresh on the pages of history. It was a fearful sacrifice to destroy this sacred city of the Russians by their own hands. But it sealed the doom of Napoleon and his grand army. This massive old tower has, however, stood firm amid all these scenes of blood and fire. Turn your eye down now upon the ground, and look along the walls near this tower, and you may count, as we did, 876 cannon which once belonged to the grand army of France, which were left or lost, or captured, or buried in the snows of Russia on that terrible retreat. They are placed here as historic memorials of that wicked invasion.

But enough here. We must not linger on the outside of things. Let us descend and enter the palace and other famed edifices of the Kremlin.

We first enter the great palace (called in Russian Bolshoi Dvoretz), seen in the centre of the engraving. It was built by the Emperor Alexander, after the burning of Moscow, upon the ruins of the old Tartar palace, partially destroy ed by Napoleon. Directly behind, and connected by steps and passage ways with the modern palace, is the vast quadrangu lar palace of the old Czars of Russia, whose massive towers and cupolas are seen looming up in the rear on the left of the dark turret at the corner of the walls, as seen in the engraving. In the modern palace you ascend and enter the great throne room and the vast reception room, of superlative magnificence, surpassing all royal or imperial apartments in Europe. The whole interior, massive columns and all, seemed lined and covered with burnished gold. Here in these sumptuous apartments, on coronation days, and other state occasions, one of the most brilliant courts of the world are as

sembled, and do homage to earth's mightiest monarch on his throne of dazzling splendor. We were permitted to approach within twelve feet of the throne, which is the assigned limit to all; though the throne was then vacated, and the pageant over for the time. We were shown into many of the private rooms, which have been occupied by different members of the imperial family while living, and by those who have gone to their last mausoleum, preserved in perfect order, as they were left when last tenanted. In the room of the Emperor Alexander were left the personal ornaments, and even his pocket handkerchief, when on his way to Taganrog to die. But we must not linger. Let us pass on into the old palace of the Czars called the Terema, and the Granovitaya Palata, a kind of double palace, whose towers and domes you may see in the engraving over the roof of the large palace. The Terema is distinguished by three rows of upper windows close together, receding like steps one above the other. The lowest story is the largest, and each story gradually recedes to the top, which contains but one room. The balconies around each story can be plainly seen in the engraving. On the lowest floor the throne and audience chambers of the old Czars are shown. The walls are covered with decorations that remind the visitor of the gorgeous glories of the Alhambra. It was on the terrace roof of the Terema, appearing square in the engraving, having a little spire on each side, from which there is magnificent view of Moscow and its environs. Here Napoleon placed himself on the first day of his short stay in Moscow, to gaze abroad on the devoted city. We can almost fancy his ghost there still, peering over the fearful ruins which followed in the footsteps of his wicked invasion, the crowning height of his wondrous career. From that day dated his downward progress, and to his colossal ambition, deep and dreadful ruin. From that high tower Napoleon beheld the mighty conflagration of Moscow, which was to him like a funeral pyre.

On this account it is a memorable spot in some respects. In the second story of the other old palace, whose domes are seen behind the high dark tower in the engraving, is another coronation hall of

the old Czars. It is a curious building. In this low and vaulted apartment, the arches unite in the centre, and rest upon one thick square column. The crimson velvet hangings used at the emperor's coronation, still adorn the walls. They are embroidered in gold, with eagles bearing thunderbolts. The throne, under a velvet canopy, is opposite the entrance. The pillar in the center is divided by circular shelves, on which the regalia are displayed on the day of the coronation. Here each emperor was accustomed to sit enthroned after the ceremonies in the cathedral, robed for the first time with all the imperial insignia, and dine with his nobles. After the imperial feast is over, the room remains unused, and untrodden, save by the curious traveler, until death calls the reigning Czar to the mausoleum of his fathers, and then the gorgeous banquet is spread anew for his successor. It is an impressive spot. As we lingered in a sort of musing admiration, our fancy was busy in vain attempts to give some kind of resurrection to the scenes of imperial grandeur which have here been enacted, but in vain. The main portion of this old palace was greatly injured and desolated by Napoleon and his army during the invasion. were shown the arched room, with massive walls, which Napoleon chose for his occupancy; but from which he was driven by the fire and smoke. We were pointed to the small windows out of which he looked upon the devoted city wrapped in flames. The Emperors Alexander and Nicholas expended immense sums of money in the repairs and reëndowment of these edifices, so famed in the history of Moscow.

We

Let us next repair to the cathedral of the Assumption, whose broad tower and dome may be seen in the engraving next on the left to the grand John Tower. It seems to stand amid a cluster of small domes and towers. In this cathedral all the emperors of Russia for centuries have been crowned. The whole contour of this ancient edifice is remarkable and strange. We examined it frequently. On entering it the eye of the visitor is bewildered with the glitter of gold and the glare of color. The whole church is gilt within; even the massive pillars,six feet in diameter, that support the fine