One of the most splendid sights in the world is perhaps the _grande révue_, in St. Petersburg, of the troops, previous to their proceeding to the summer encampment; it lasts nearly a whole day, and takes place on the _Champ de Mars_, a large space in front of the summer gardens. We went several times to see it; on the last occasion there were eighty thousand men assembled—a hundred thousand, a gentleman who was with us affirmed, which he pronounced “affrayant pour le monde entier.” There is usually a great crowd to witness the spectacle, but we were so fortunate as to have seats secured for us at a friend’s house, whence we could have a good view of the whole field. On reaching the _Champ de Mars_ my first feeling was one of disappointment, for I could scarcely believe that so great a multitude of men and horses would have occupied comparatively so small a space. The square is not more than one-third of a mile in length, yet there seemed ample room left for performing their military evolutions. The men were all standing under arms, awaiting the arrival of his Imperial Majesty and staff—they and the horses immoveable as statues of bronze; the solid squadrons of Cossacks, like a dark cloud, were drawn up at the further end of the field; their long spears held quite upright had the effect of an endless line of palisades, so even and motionless did they appear. The Czar was expected every minute, so we anxiously kept our gaze fixed in the direction of the palace; at length he arrived: tremendous indeed was the effect of the salutation which he received from the multitude of warriors; He, followed by his glittering staff, passed close to the spot where we were seated, mounted on a black war-horse, his noble figure dressed in the full uniform of the guards, his brow surmounted by the magnificent helmet with a golden eagle, whose widely-spread wings form the crest; he looked like another Attila reviewing the descendants of the Huns. It was with a feeling almost of sorrow that I gazed on that brilliant group as they swept proudly along the serried lines of the living mass, and thought that, long ere another century had fled, not one of all that mighty multitude would exist to speak of that splendid sight, and that the magnificent pageant of that day was doomed, like thousands of others that had passed before, to fade away like a shadow, and be remembered no more.