Jewish element threatened predominance, it paid, crushed in all his native energy, was counteracted in one way or another. Despite the rationalism and materialism of the time, its civilization is Christian. II. whichever way he turned his eyes, misery stared him in the face. The country he belongs to is forbidding in the extreme. Endless plains, barely broken here and there by small woods of meager trees, a landscape all THE RUSSIANS-RUSSIAN MORALS AND CUS- horizontal, so to say, where the sky occu TOMS. It has been seen in the foregoing chapter that Russia, in the sense of the letter, is devotedly Christian. In that sense it truly deserves to be called, as it sometimes is, Holy Russia. But things should prove their use. What has this almost wholly outward religion done for the Russian? No unprejudiced mind that has given any attention to the matter, will hesitate to acknowledge that it has done everything for him. It has enabled him above all patiently to endure the hardest lot that ever befell any mortal-a lot which neither philosopher nor statesman can fully explain. Life in Russia has always been a hard life. Before the abolition of serfdom it must have been well-nigh intolerable. Bent under the weight of the sternest social edifice which the Christian world has ever known, the Russian, were he artisan or peasant, had no other consolation or refuge against his two oppressorsclimate and ruler-than his unvarying belief in the supernatural. Ill-fed, ill pies the largest place, and the earth presents but a starved vegetation, all invite him to turn his eyes heavenward-to the unseen. Tied to the ground of his native place from his birth, with little or no chance of educa A RUSSIAN MARRIAGE CEREMONY, tion, he becomes what might be called a real- bride and groom are called prince and prinistic dreamer; the natural and the spiritual cess on their wedding-day. They are made becoming confounded. He hears prophetic to stand before the tabernacle, exchange voices in the fierce winds which, blowing from the north pole and sweeping over the forests, make the pines and birches and trembling aspens wail a song of woe in which he unconsciously joins. His countenance has in it a corresponding note of sadness; his whole being is set in a minor key. This world never meant joy. Religion has thus become his dominant passion, his anchor and refuge, his chief glory. rings and give each other the marriage kiss. To recall to their minds that henceforth they should have all things in common, they are made to drink three times out of the same cup. After this their hands are tied together and they are led three times around the altar to signify that they are to walk through life in close union. The funeral rites are of a like realistic nature; here the farewell kiss corresponds to Fame, in his eyes, detached from the Cross, means nothing. To arouse his patriotism or pride, some religious interest must be attached to the cause before he arms himself for it. It is not the war-trumpet with its promises of military honors that would have to be sounded to start him, but the bells of his many thousand churches. So thoroughly has religion interpenetrated his whole life, that it might be called a religious poem in a dramatic form; a sort of passion-play in three acts-Baptism, Marriage, Death-all accompanied with solemn music, chanting and choruses, and never-changing program. Truly touching in its religious literalism is the Russian marriage ceremony. The the marriage kiss, and the coffin is carried three times around the church. One of the few great excitements in the Russian's torpid life is the festival of Easter. It is not only the holiest, but also the dearest of his days. The Greek Church does not celebrate its midnight mass at Christmas, but at Easter. The spectacle of an Easter night at Moscow is one not easily forgotten. City and suburb gather at the foot of the Ivan Veliki tower which stands between the two old cathedrals of the Kremlin. This structure unique in its kind for its grim massiveness and tremendous bell-power is the central figure of the city, its golden dome and cross "nearly three hundred feet square a table is set for an altar, and before it, in semi-circle, the peasants arrange their cattle and even their tools; for success, they firmly believe, comes from above. Yet are there Russian festivities not linked with the church, proving the necessity of recreation among all kinds of men. On the banks of the Irtish, the first large river the traveler comes to after crossing the Ural Mountains going eastward, is a small hamlet composed of a few wooden houses which is called the City of the Seven Palaces. This is the meeting place of Siberia's horse-race enthusiasts. The people belong chiefly to the Kirghees tribe of nomad Cossacks who live on the Steppes. The Steppes in that region cover an area of 850,000 square miles. Here one may study that ancient Mongol race, which, under the great Khan Genghis, invaded Europe in 1220 carrying destruction everywhere. It is an ugly race and of bad reputation even in our days, although since they have been brought under Russian authority, the worst of their depredations have come to an end. The horse-racing above alluded to is a part of an annual festival, properly Mohammedan, the Courban-Baïran, in which both Turks and Russians engage. It has lost its original purpose and has become simply an occasion for a yearly merry-making. The primitive character of the races is of itself an interesting and amusing study. There are stakes and prizes differing in value according to the means of the participants, the highest never exceeding a hundred roubles; some consisting even in flocks and cattle. While the horses run their allotted space, some of the spectators engage in wrestling and other athletic sports. After the distribution of the prizes, there is naturally feasting; the favorite dish, palao, a sort of mutton stew with rice and onions, and the favorite drink, koomis, sour mare's milk from which the Cossack distils an intoxicating liquor, form the menu. That with all their barbarism these wild hordes have an innate sense for higher things, may be seen from the fact that, feasting over, they make way for the bard. into more than one vice. Drunkenness exists to a deplorable degree in Russia. Both rich and poor seek warmth in alcohol. The priests are particularly exposed to this evil, as the vast distances they have often to traverse in the heart of winter in the performance of their sacred office, cause them to resort to this means as the most immediately effective. The consequence sometimes is that they arrive drunk at the hut where the dying awaits the last consolations of his religion. Otherwise, how frugal! One meal a day is usually all the poor moujik asks to keep soul and body together; and this meal he makes, of course, as substantial as his poverty allows. It consists generally of a soup composed of almost everything eatable. The rich, of course, live differently. The Russian palate generally deadened by strong condiments needs stimulants to arouse it; and of those appetizers, both in solids and liquids, Russia furnishes the greatest variety. In regard to dress, their taste, as is well known, is Eastern. They delight in showy things, in rich effects; display fine furs, much jewelry; in short cultivate wherever they live, their love for magnificence. Gorgeousness reaches its climax in a wealthy Russian's home. Most amusing in a certain respect were Peter the Great's efforts to civilize his longgowned, bearded subjects by means of foreign fashions, and he must have felt rather little when all his efforts to introduce the razor in Russia failed. The moujik knew better than the Czar what long, warm gowns, sheepskins, and beards were meant for. What would a stylish swallow-tailed coat, a smart moustache and whiskers avail his legs and chest and lungs in the hard, long winters he has to live through? No, the dear Czar might if he liked cut off his head with his razor, but his beard, no! To sum up all, Russia's customs spring from its soil, its climate, its Eastern origin, from the natural instincts of its people, and will probably for a long time to come yet stand their ground against Western modes of dress and living. III. In regard to the Russian's morals, his code of ethics is the same as ours-Christian-at ST. PETERSBURG AND MOSCOW. RUSSIAN least in intent; the law, do unto others as you would be done by, prevailing. The climate and the poverty of the land have driven its helpless inhabitants, however, C-Sept. ART. "ST. PETERSBURG," said the Emperor Nicholas, when apologizing once for the modern look of his great capital, "may not be |