the alert, at this period, we may well under all the circumstances of the case, question the probability of such a result. By the occupation of Moscow, the Royal Quixote might have accelerated, and at most, would only have retarded the catastrophe which awaited his temerity. In explanation of my own views on the subject of this part of his romantic career, I shall again use the language of Montesquieu, to whose authority the highest deference is duc. "It was not the affair of Pultowa that ruined Charles. Had he not been destroyed in that place, he would in another. The casualties of fortune are easily repaired, but who can be guarded against events, which incessantly arise out of the nature of things?'

It is affirmed by Perry,† that had not Peter been victorious at the battle of Pultowa, he would have been dethroned, as every thing was ripe for rebellion, even in the bosom of his capital. The Boyars, the clergy and the people had all been more or less affected and exasperated by his attempts at reform. The jealousy of his intentions was universal. Ignorance and fanaticism were clamorous against his whole scheme of domestic legislation, which they denounced as nothing less than treasonable and sacrilegious. In the fifth year of the war, a serious revolt occurred at Astrachan, occasioned by the injudicious rigour of the punishments inflicted on those who refused to lay aside the native costume. One of the ablest of Peter's generals was sent to quell it, and three hundred of the principal rebels were executed at Moscow, on the restoration of tranquillity.

It was while Charles was yet at the height of his power and reputation, that Peter laid the foundations of a new capital, on the banks of the Neva. The history of this event affords throughout, a striking illustration of the vigour of the despotism, and the inflexible resoluteness of the czar.

I class the erection of St. Petersburgh among the most important incidents in the modern annals of Russia. Algarotti styles it

• Spirit of Laws, b. 10. c. 14.

State of Russia, &c.

See correspondence between Voltaire and the empress Catharine, wherein the latter suggests, that Peter had at one time resolved to make Taganrog on the sea of Azof, the metropolis of the empire. See also Rulhiere-Histoire de L'Anarchie de la Pologne. vol. i. p. 118.

the window through which she inspects Europe; and I would add, through which she has received the lights of that quarter. It has served the purpose of an eye in every sense; as an organ of vision and an inlet of knowledge. By means of St. Petersburg, the Russian state was brought into immediate contact with the European commonwealth;-initiated directly into its politics and interests. By means of this city and of Cronstadt, she acquired also the elements of a great naval and commercial power. Peter has been blamed, for translating the seat of empire from Moscow, but certainly without good reason. I am inclined to think that were it carried back thither, Russia might soon lose her preponderance in the North, and even relapse into total barbarism.*

Among the prodigies wrought by the Czar at this period, may be reckoned the maritime force which he created, as a counterpoise to that of Sweden. With the aid of foreign architects, officers and seamen, and by pushing his domestic authority to the utmost point of despotic excess, he acquired the ability not only to combat, but to vanquish his enemy on the waters of the Baltic. In spite of apparently insuperable obstacles both of nature and chance; he formed dock-yards, constructed harbours, and collected an immense mass of materials. Although wholly destitute of a commercial marine, and originally without a sailor of his own, he saw himself at the end of a few years, master of a naval armament, against which the Swedes were incapable of making head. According to general Manstein, he had, in 1719, twenty-eight ships of the line, together with above two hundred gallies; and before his death, could boast of magazines richly stored, of a fine fleet, amounting to between thirty and forty first rates, and a correspondent number of frigates and other vessels of war, of which, too, the crews were principally Russian. In the prosecution of his purpose, he was urged not more by views of defence or dominion, than by a vehement passion for naval affairs, before which, as happened uniformly where his leading inclinations were

* See on this head generally, Coxe's Travels in the North. vol. i. p. 461. † See Manstein for these obstacles, or Tooke's View of Russia under Catherine, vol. ii.

concerned every impediment was made to fall, every consideration to give way.

The example of Peter in this instance may be held out to the United States, equally as an incentive, and a reproach. What ar bitrary power guided by an impetuous, intrepid, and inflexible will, was competent to effect in the one case, the patriotism of sentiment and of selfishness, should be able to accomplish in the other. Had the Czar possessed the means and facilities which we enjoy, greatcr beyond all comparison than those which fell to his share, while the motives to employ them whether of interest or glory, are not less urgent, he would have put himself in a condition to dispute the empire of the ocean, in a shorter time than we have taken to qualify ourselves for the capture of a straggling frigate of Great Britain.

FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

NARRATIVE OF THE ESCAPE OF KING STANISLAUS FROM

DANTZIC

FERTILE in misfortune as the last twenty years have been to crowned heads, the history of the kings of Europe for the greater part of the eighteenth century, offers many interesting examples of adversity; among these, the unexpected elevation, turbulent reign, and deposition of Stanislaus, stands conspicuous. This amiable prince found himself shut up in Dantzick, when news arrived of the defeat of his friend Charles XII. of Sweden, at Pultowa. His rival, Augustus, aided by the Russians, had reduced Dantzick to the last extremity, and it became necessary for Stanislaus to endeavour to escape. The following account of his adventures upon that occasion is an abridgment of his own narrative, contained in a letter from himself to his daughter, the wife of Louis XV. of France.

Augustus of Saxony had offered a reward for the head of Stanislaus; the besieging army lay in every direction around the town; a formidable fleet blockaded the river, and every resource of the besieged was drained to the uttermost. In the midst of men

disposed to make their peace with Augustus at the expense of his liberty or even his life; amid the increasing ruins of the town, and a vast population exasperated by the misfortunes of war, the king began his preparations for flight. It was a bold step to resolve on, but a much greater to execute; for such was his undertaking, that if it failed once, it failed forever.

On Sunday, the 27th of June, 1710, Stanislaus removed to the house of the French ambassador, the marquis de Monti, under pretence of passing a tranquil night, as the bombs began to fall so thick around his palace that they deprived him of sleep. At ten o'clock that evening, habited in a peasant's dress, he left the minis, ter's house.

De Monti, who had contrived his disguise, possessed the entire confidence of Stanislaus. This gentleman filled with honour the post he held. Fruitful in expedients, he seldom failed in the choice of his means, never suffering himself through presumption to ncglect that which appeared easy, or through fear to be discouraged at that which seemed difficult: possessing a genius at once superior and uncommon, he could, without art, unite to the most winning candor, all the address of an accomplished diplomatist.

A threadbare coat, a coarse shirt, a very common cap, a pair of country boots, and a rough knotted stick with a leathern string hanging to it, constituted the king's equipment. He mingled his tears with those of de Monti as he embraced him on his steps at the back of his house. A few moments after he found general Steinflicht, who, disguised like himself, was waiting for him. They went together to meet the town-major, a Swede, who had engaged to favour the king's retreat, and whom they found near the ramparts. Two small boats conveyed them across the ditches: they were guarded by three men appointed to conduct them to the Prussian states, which offered the nearest and safest assylum.

The major jumped out of the boat, and advanced a few steps before them to get them past a post held by some soldiers and a non-commissioned officer. He had scarcely left them when the king heard him speaking with warmth. He ran towards them at this noise, and getting sufficiently near to distinguish objects, he saw the subaltern taking aim at the major, and threatening to fire if he did not retreat. Twice the major, who had foreseen this diffi

culty, seized a pistol with a determination to sacrifice this man, if he could not be persuaded by fair words; but reflecting that his death would be revenged by his soldiers, who were governed by the same watch-word, he preferred, after a short pause, revealing to him the secret cause of his coming there. The serjeant desired to see the king; his majesty approached, and after undergoing a strict examination, he made a profound bow, and ordered his men to let him pass.

This first adventure augured badly for the rest of the journey. It was difficult to believe that the secret would be kept by all those who now knew it. The king sent the major back, and once more seated in his little boat with his followers, rowed over the inundated fields in expectation of passing the Vistula before day-break, and thus getting beyond most of the posts of the enemy.

But what was his astonishment when his conductors stopped, after rowing about a mile, at a wretched hovel in the middle of the marsh! They told him that it was too late to pass the river, and that they must stay there the rest of the night and all the next day. In vain did Stanislaus expostulate: in vain represent to them the risk he incurred by stopping within sight of the enemy, and the consequent loss of so much precious time: they were deaf to his reasons, and would not stir an inch further. Fearful, perhaps, that in public they might betray themselves if they did not practise those airs of equality which they were to assume with the king, they now began to exercise them, and soon becoming perfect, made most unbounded use of the privilege.

But what was he to do with men who would take fire at the smallest contradiction? His fate was in their hands: he had trusted it to them. Stepping out of his boat therefore, he entered the house with as confident an air as if it had been a fortified place.

This hut consisted of one room only, and in this he could not find a corner for repose, nor could he have slept, if it had afforded a bed. To quiet his uneasiness and pass away the tedious hours that were before him, he undertook to make himself acquainted with his illustrious associates. A fourth had joined them at the ramparts, although he had been assured that his conductors would be only three in number: he was anxious to sift this man as well as his companions.