On one occasion, when the Emperor visited Moscow, he is said to have preceded the royal carriage as an _avant-coureur_, in order to avoid what he felt to be the obnoxious pomp and ceremony which an acknowledgment of his rank would have awakened. And when at Paris he amused himself by frequenting the cafés incognito, one day being asked to play a game of chess. He lost the game and wished to play another, but his opponent excused himself, as he was anxious to visit the opera to see the Emperor. “What do you expect to see in the Emperor?” he inquired, “for he is just like any other man.” “No matter,” said the stranger, “he is a very great man, and I will not be disappointed.” Whereupon the Emperor rejoined, “If that is your only motive for going to the opera, we may as well play another game, for you see him before you.” When in London Peter the Great attended a masked ball at the Temple in the costume of a butcher; and Dr. Doran quotes an amusing incident in connection with a Christmas custom in his own country. Formerly, it appears, there was a masquerading ceremony in Russia consisting of a sledge procession, which took place between Christmas and the New Year, in which the clergy, gorgeously attired, stopped at certain houses, sang a carol, and “received in return donations from those who wished to be considered peculiarly orthodox Christians. Peter once witnessed this procession, and was so edified by the amount of the contributions, that he placed himself, suitably attired, at the head of the sledges and the Church, sang his own carols, and pocketed the contributions of the loyal and faithful” with the most marked satisfaction. An amusing and familiar story is told of Charles V., who, being curious to know the sentiments of his meanest subjects concerning himself, would often go incognito and mix in such companies as he felt inclined. One night, at Brussels, his boot requiring immediate attention, he was directed to a cobbler. It happened to be St. Crispin’s day, and the cobbler was in the height of his jollity among his acquaintances. The Emperor acquainted him with what he wanted, and offered him a handsome gratuity. “What, friend?” said the cobbler, “do you know no better than to ask one of our craft to work on St. Crispin? Was it Charles himself, I’d not do a stitch for him now, but if you’ll come in and drink St. Crispin, do, and welcome; we are as merry as the Emperor can be.” The Emperor accepted the offer, and ere he had sat down the jovial host thus accosted him: “What, I suppose you are some courtier politician or other by that contemplative phiz; but be you who, or what you will, you are heartily welcome; drink about, here’s Charles V.’s health.” “Then you love Charles V.,” replied the Emperor.