in many of the ostrogs, we are told, that the inhabitants had declined
from thirty or forty, to eight or ten; and yet the tribute continued
to be levied on the remainder, according to the preceding census! This
was, in reality, the caput mortuum of taxation, and perhaps was
never equalled, at least never surpassed, in absurdity, by the ways
and means of any other government. Had this system continued for any
length of time, it is probable, that one or two individuals would at
length have had the supreme felicity of being in reality the
representatives of a whole nation, and of course of paying for the
extraordinary honour. This reminds one of a curious enough occurrence
said to have happened after a battle in Germany, in which a regiment,
belonging to the Earl of Tyrconnel, had been engaged. A general muster
having taken place, his Lordship’s regiment was of course called for,
when a soldier, stepping from the ranks, immediately replied, “I am
Lord Tyrconnel’s regiment!” In fact, the poor fellow was the only
responsible survivor.—E.
[82] Krusenstern, who, as we have seen, is far from
sparing the laity in
the distribution of his censures,
makes every bit as free with the
clergy. “The priest
of St Peter and St Paul,” says he, “was
a scandal
to his profession; in the
interior, they are said to be no better, and
to be particularly obnoxious
to the Kamtschadales.” This is a serious
evil, no doubt, but it may
reasonably be expected to cease with the
complaints of the parishioners,
as it is very unlikely that at
Kamtschatka as elsewhere,
there should be found any shepherds without
flocks. To be sure, in
some other countries, where this occasionally
happens, there is this important
difference, that the pasture at least
is worth looking after!—E.
[83] Thirty-six pounds English.
[84] This description, little as it may excite any
high opinion of the
prosperity of the place, is
nevertheless nearly a contrast to that
which Krusenstern has given.
“The first prospect of St Peter and St
Paul might raise in the mind
of a person newly arrived, and ignorant
of the history of this Russian
establishment, the idea of its being a
colony founded a few years
before, but recently abandoned. Nothing is
visible here that could at
all persuade any one of its being inhabited
by civilized people; not only
Awatska Bay, but the three adjoining
ones, are entirely forlorn
and uninhabited; nor is the beautiful
harbour of St Peter and St
Paul enlivened by a single boat. Instead of
this, the shores are strewed
with stinking fish, among which a number
of half-starved dogs are seen
wallowing, and contending for


