The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 13, No. 79, May, 1864: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
Religion
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 13, No. 79, May, 1864: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
The Neva, in its sudden and continual windings, in its clear, cold,
sweet water, and its fringing groves of birch, maple, and alder,
compensates, in a great measure, for the flatness of its shores. It has
not the slow magnificence of the Hudson or the rush of the Rhine, but
carries with it a sense of power, of steady, straightforward force, like
that of the ancient warriors who disdained all clothing except their
swords. Its naked river-god is not even crowned with reeds, but the full
flow of his urn rolls forth undiminished by summer and unchecked beneath
its wintry lid. Outlets of large lakes frequently exhibit this
characteristic, and the impression they make upon the mind does not
depend on the scenery through which they flow. Nevertheless, we
discovered many points the beauty of which was not blotted out by rain
and cloud, and would have shone freshly and winningly under the touch of
the sun. On the north bank there is a palace of Potemkin, (or
Potchomkin, as his name is pronounced in Russian,) charmingly placed at
a bend, whence it looks both up and down the river. The gay color of the
building, as of most of the _datchas_, or country-villas, in Russia,
makes a curious impression upon the stranger. Until he has learned to
accept it as a portion of the landscape, the effect is that of a scenic
design on the part of the builder. These dwellings, these villages and
churches, he thinks, are scarcely intended to be permanent: they were
erected as part of some great dramatic spectacle, which has been, or is
to be, enacted under the open sky. Contrasted with the sober,
matter-of-fact aspect of dwellings in other countries, they have the
effect of temporary decorations. But when one has entered within these
walls of green and blue and red arabesques, inspected their thickness,
viewed the ponderous porcelain stores, tasted, perhaps, the bountiful
cheer of the owner, he realizes their palpable comforts, and begins to
suspect that all the external adornment is merely an attempt to restore
to Nature that coloring of which she is stripped by the cold sky of the
North.
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