In the provinces of Lithuania which had been of old incorporated with the empire, where a mild administration, favours judiciously bestowed, and a longer habit of subjection, had extinguished the recollection of independence, the inhabitants were hurried away with all they could carry with them.  Still it was not deemed expedient to require of subjects professing a different religion, and a nascent patriotism, the destruction of property:  a levy of five men only out of every five hundred males was ordered.

But in Russia Proper, where religion, superstition, ignorance, patriotism, all went hand in hand with the government, not only had the inhabitants been obliged to retreat with the army, but every thing that could not be removed had been destroyed.  Those who were not destined to recruit the regulars, joined the militia or the cossacks.

The interior of the empire being then threatened, it was for Moscow to set an example.  That capital, justly denominated by its poets, “Moscow with the golden cupolas,” was a vast and motley assemblage of two hundred and ninety-five churches, and fifteen hundred mansions, with their gardens and dependencies.  These palaces of brick, and their parks, intermixed with neat houses of wood, and even thatched cottages, were spread over several square leagues of irregular ground:  they were grouped round a lofty triangular fortress; the vast double inclosure of which, half a league in circuit, contained, the one, several palaces, some churches, and rocky and uncultivated spots; the other, a prodigious bazaar, the town of the merchants and shopkeepers, where was displayed the collected wealth of the four quarters of the globe.

These edifices, these palaces, nay, the very shops themselves, were all covered with polished and painted iron:  the churches, each surmounted by a terrace and several steeples, terminating in golden balls, then the crescent, and lastly the cross, reminded the spectator of the history of this nation:  it was Asia and its religion, at first victorious, subsequently vanquished, and finally the crescent of Mahomet surmounted by the cross of Christ.

A single ray of sun-shine caused this splendid city to glisten with a thousand varied colours.  At sight of it the traveller paused, delighted and astonished.  It reminded him of the prodigies with which the oriental poets had amused his childhood.  On entering it, a nearer view served but to heighten his astonishment:  he recognized the nobles by the manners, the habits, and the different languages of modern Europe; and by the rich and light elegance of their dress.  He beheld, with surprise, the luxury and the Asiatic form of those of the merchants; the Grecian costumes of the common people, and their long beards.  He was struck by the same variety in the edifices:  and yet all this was tinged with a local and sometimes harsh colour, such as befits the country of which Moscow was the ancient capital.