The huge placards and the colossal letters by which the tradesmen of London and Paris seek to attract public attention, are unknown in St. Petersburg. The reading public there is extremely limited, and the merchant who wishes to recommend himself to the multitude must have recourse to a less lettered process. This accounts for the abundance of pictorial illustrations that decorate so many of the shopfronts, or advertise the passenger that such and such an artist may be found within. The optician announces his calling by a profuse display of spectacles and telescopes ; the butcher suspends in front of his estabHshment a couple of painted oxen, or perhaps a portrait of himself, in the act of presenting a ruddy joint to a passing dame. These signs, that speak the only mute language intelligible to a Russian multitude, relieve in some measure the monotony of the streets. The baker is sure to have a board over liis door with a representation of every species of roll and loaf offered for sale iu his shop; the tallowchandler is equally careful to suspend the portraits of all his varieties of longs and shorts destined for the enlightenment of mankind. The musician, the pastrycook, and in short every handicraftsman to whom the humbler classes are likely to ajiply, have adopted the same plan, and from the second and third floors huge pictures may sometimes bo seen suspended, Avith appalling likenesses of fiddles, flutes, tarts, sugarplums, sausages, smoked hams, coats, caps, shoes, stockings, &c.
For a barber the customary symbol is the following picture : A lady sits fainting in a chair. Before her stands the man of science with a glittering lancet in his hand, and from her snow white arm a purple fountain springs into the air, to fall afterwards into a basin held by an attendant youth. By the side of the lady sits a phlegmatic philosopher undergoing the operation of shaving, without manifesting the slightest sympathy for the fair sufferer. Around the whole is a kind of arabesque border composed of black leeches and instruments for drawing teeth. This picture is of frequent occurrence in every large Russian town. The most characteristic of these signs appeared to me that of a midwife. A bed with the curtains closely drawn announced the invisible presence of the accouchee, and in front was a newly-arrived stranger on the lap of the accoucheuse, and undergoing, to his manifest discomfiture, the infliction of his first toilet. Most of these pictures are very tolerably executed, and that of a Parisian milliner is particularly entitled to commendation for the art expended on the gauze caps, and the lace trimmings. Nor must it be supposed that the merchant is content with displaying only one or tv/o of the articles in which he deals ; no, the whole shop must figure on the board, and not only the dealer, but his customers also must be portrayed there. The coffeehouse -keeper does not think he has done enough when he has displayed a steaming kettle and a graceful array of cups ; he must have a whole party making themselves comfortable over their coffee and cigars, and crying to the wavering passenger, "Go thou, and do likewise." The jeweller must have not only rings and stars and crosses, but he must have generals and excellencies as large as life,, with their breasts blazing with orders, and at least five fingers on each hand laden with rings. The Russians attach great importance to these signs, and a stranger may obtain from them some knowledge of the manners of the people.
The river Neva serves to carry off the surplus waters of the Ladoga Lake. In this large reservoir, which covers a space of about 100 German (2000 English) square miles, the water has had full leisure to deposit all its impurities, and has not had time to collect any fresh ones, during the few leagues that intervene between the lake and the city. The water of the Neva, therefore, at St. Petersburg is as clear as crystal, and reminds the traveller of the appearance of the Rhine when it first issues from among the icy grottoes of the Alpine glaciers. About a league from its mouth, the Neva divides into several arms, forming thus a little archipelago of islands, which are either included within the city of St. Petersburg, or contribute to its embellishment by their gardens and plantations. These arms of the Neva, at least the four principal among them, are known by the names of the Great and Little Neva, and the