on the skin of a bear; and habited in a tunic, or sort of toga which forms the drapery behind. His left hand guides the reins; his right is advanced straight forward on the same side of the horse's neck. The head of the statue is crowned with a laurel wreath." It was formed from a bust of Peter, modelled by a young French damsel. The contour of the face expresses the most powerful command, and exalted, boundless, expansion of thought. "The horse, says Sir Robert, is not to be surpassed. To all the beauties of the ancient form, it unites the easy grace of nature with a fire which pervades every line; and gives such a life to the statue, that as you gaze you expect to see it leap from the pinnacle into the air. The difficulty of keeping so great a mass of weighty metal in so volant an attitude, has been admirably overcome by the artist. The sweep of the tail, with the hinder parts of the horse, are interwoven with the curvatures of the expiring snake; and together compose a sufficient counterpoise to the figure and forepart of the animal."[6] [6] Travelling Sketches in Russia and Sweden. By Sir Robert Ker Porter, 4to. Our representation of this masterpiece of art is copied from a Russian medallion presented to our ingenious artist, Mr. W.H. Brooke, by M. Francia. * * * * * SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS. * * * * * FAMILY POETRY. --Modo sumptâ veste virili!--HOR. Zooks! I must woo the Muse to-day, Though line before I'd never wrote! "On what occasion?" do you say? OUR DICK HAS GOT A LONG-TAIL'D COAT! Not a coatee, which soldiers wear Button'd up high about the throat, But easy, flowing, debonair-- In short a _civil_ long-tail'd Coat. A smarter you'll not find in town Cut by Nugee, that Snip of note; A very quiet olive-brown 's the colour of Dick's long-tail'd Coat. Gay jackets clothe the stately Pole, The proud Hungarian, and the Croat, Yet Esterhazy, on the whole, Looks best when in a long-tail'd Coat. Lord Byron most admired, we know, The Albanian dress, or Suliote; But then he died some years ago, And never saw Dick's long-tail'd Coat. Or, past all doubt, the Poet's theme Had never been the "White Capote," Had he once view'd, in Fancy's dream, The glories of Dick's long-tail'd Coat. We also know on Highland kilt Poor dear Glengary used to dote, And had esteem'd it actual guilt I' "the Gael" to wear a long-tail'd Coat, No wonder 'twould his eyes annoy, Monkbarns himself would never quote "Sir Robert Sibbald," "Gordon," "Roy," Or "Stukely" for a long-tail'd Coat. Jackets may do to ride a race, Or row in, when one's in a boat; But, in the Boudoir, sure, for grace There's nothing like Dick's long-tail'd Coat.