Whenever the degree of temperature is mentioned in the course of this narrative, it is according to theCentigrade scale, although it is calculated by the Réaumur thermometer, and no other, in Russia. 5° Centigrade are equal to 9° Fahrenheit: but since the freezing point in the Centigrade thermometer is 0, and in the Fahrenheit 32°, in converting one scale into the other, care must be taken to add or deduct this difference in calculating above or below freezing point. It will therefore be seen that when 18° below 0 in the Centigrade scale are reached—a point nearly equivalent to zero in the Fahrenheit thermometer—the latter is quite inadequate to indicate the intense cold of Siberia, where, in certain parts, as at Yakutsk and Tomsk, it is said to reach 58° Centigrade even, in some winters. This temperature would be equivalent to 105° Fahrenheit below freezing point, disregarding the irrational descending scale below this mark, and supposing the graduation to continue instead from freezing point with augmenting numbers. But Gabriel Fahrenheit contrived his thermometer for Dantzig, and evidently not for Siberia; for the lowest point, zero, has no scientific basis, no significance whatever in the phenomena of heat, and represents merely the extreme cold registered at Dantzig in 1709, a degree of cold which must have been surpassed there subsequently by many degrees, and even in Paris by at least 15°, once in the winter of 1871 during the siege, and more than once during the rigorous winter of 1880. We seem to be more attached to this Dantzig thermometer than the Dantzigians themselves, who,probably, have long ago adopted the more rational scale of Réaumur or of Celsius, more rational at least so far as they are graduated each way from freezing point. Perhaps a change may come about when we begin to dine at 18 o’clock instead of 6 p.m.—W. C.
Siberia, it appears, judging from an account of a correspondent of theTimesat Tumen, published November 20th, 1883, is quiteun pays de cocagne, so far as provisions are concerned, sparkling champagne of course excepted. The prices of some articles of food at Tumen are given as follows:
“Geese in autumn cost fivepence a pair, and are frozen in numbers to be sent west to Russia and east to Irkutsk; grouse in summer, being a delicacy, cost threepence a pair, and good fish, such as sterlet and nelma, from three-halfpence to twopence-halfpenny per pound. Sheep are scarce and not much eaten, but beef in autumn costs from fifteen to twenty pence the pood, or about a halfpenny per pound.”
In spite of the cheapness of provisions and labour, travelling appears to be, at least to the foreigner, very expensive in Siberia.—W. C.
Some interesting experiments on seeds and plants have recently been made by a Norwegiansavant, Professor Schubeler, with the view of demonstrating the beneficial influence of prolonged sunlight on vegetation during the long summer days of the north. Some of these experiments were as follows: dwarf beans taken from Christiania to Drontheim, being less than 4° further north, gained more than 60 per cent. in weight; thyme brought from Lyons and planted at Drontheim gained 71 per cent. It appears that the grain grown in northern latitudes is much heavier than that grown in more southern lands: on the other hand, seed taken from Norway and sown at Bresslau greatly diminished in weight the first year. As the differences of soil, moisture, temperature of the groundand air, and other disturbing elements have to be duly accounted for, these experiments do not appear to be sufficient to establish the fact that the increase of weight waswhollydue to increased sunlight. Perhaps experiments for comparative results will be made under similar conditions, except those of the duration and quantity of sunlight, and such experiments, more in accordance with the principles of experimental science, would, if made, be more satisfactory.—W. C.
It does not appear, however, that wolves are always so peaceful and harmless. From a police report it seems that, in 1875, 161 persons, and domestic animals to the value of £2,500,000, were killed by wolves in European Russia: their depredations in Siberia could not probably be easily calculated. In 1882 it is reported that 278 human beings were killed by wolves in British India.—W. C.
The following are a few clauses from the Russian penal code that came into operation on the 1st of May, 1846, and will show how far religious intolerance is carried in Russia. Certain clauses relating to corporal punishments, the abrogation of privileges, and the right of suzerainty are omitted, because the decree emancipating the serfs renders them null and void.
“Sec. 196.—He who abandons the orthodox faith for any other creed, Christian even, is to be handed over to the ecclesiastical authorities, in order to be admonished and enlightened, and that his case may be judged according to the rules of the Church. Until he returns to the orthodox faith, the Governmenttakes stepsto preserve his children, under age, from corruption: a guardian is placed over his estates, andhe is forbidden to reside there.”
“Sec. 197.—He who shall attempt, either by word of mouth or writing, to draw orthodox believers into another creed, shall be condemned:
“For the first offence, to be imprisoned for one year or two years in a house of correction; for the second, to be incarcerated in a fortress for a period of four to six years; for the third, to be sent into exile in the government of Tobolsk or Tomsk, with imprisonment for one or two years.”
“Sec. 198.—If the parents, who are legally obliged to bring up their children in the orthodox faith, shall bring them up according to the practices of some other creed, Christian even, they shall be condemned to imprisonment for one or two years; their children shall be entrusted to parents of the orthodox faith for their education, or in default of such persons, to guardians nominated by the Government.”
“Sec. 199.—He who shall hinder anyone from following the orthodox faith shall be condemned to be imprisoned for three to six months: and if he shall have used threats or violence or practised annoyance, he shall be confined for two or three years in a house of correction.”
“Sec. 200.—He who is well aware that his wife or his children, or any persons legally under hissurveillance, intend to abandon the orthodox creed, and does not attempt to dissuade them from it, or take such measures as are authorised by the law to prevent them from doing so, shall be liable to an imprisonment of three days to three months; and if he is orthodox, he shall be subject to ecclesiastical punishment.”
This law therefore obliges a man,even if he is a Roman Catholic, to denounce his wife and children of the orthodox faith and act with rigour against them.
“Sec. 202.—Members of the clergy of the Christian sects, convicted of having taught the Catechism to orthodox children,although it should not be provedthat they intended to beguile them, will be liable: for the first offence, to be removed from their spiritual charge for one to three years; for the second, to forfeit entirely their charge, and, after having been imprisoned for one to two years, to be placed continually under thesurveillanceof the police.”
With regard to the grave question of mixed marriages, the tenth book of the laws, among other vexatious regulations, stipulates that: “If one of the two contracting parties is orthodox, the priest can only give his benediction to the marriage when he shall have obtained from the heterodox party a formal engagement in writing, that he or she shall not attempt to gain over the other to his or her religion by allurements, threats, or other means, and thatall their children shall be brought up in the orthodox faith.”
Marriages between members of the Catholic and of the Orthodox faith, celebrated only in a Catholic church, are declared null and void.
The exiled Poles, at present even, can only carry offensive weapons with the permission of the military governor.
In Siberia, poor people, who travel enormous distances afoot, in order to pray at a tomb or the image of a saint, are often met with. It is not a rare occurrence for peasants to attempt to undertake a journey thus as far as Jerusalem. There are many, indeed, that abandon their project on the way from sheer fatigue, but not from want of courage. A few are sometimes known to accomplish even this formidable undertaking.
Many Siberian animals that are white during winter, resume, in the summer, furs of a colour which we habitually see here. The ermine is a changeable fur, and becomes yellow during the warm season. A summer ermine is almost worthless in the eyes of a connoisseur.—The Author.
These, no doubt, are instances of theprotective coloursobserved by Darwin and Mr. Wallace.
“A common Indian and Sumatran butterfly (Kallima) disappears like magic when it settles in a bush; for it hidesits head and antennæ between its closed wings, and these in form,colour, and veining,cannot be distinguished from a withered leaftogether with the footstalk.”—Wallace.
“With animals of all kinds, whenever colour has been modifiedfor some special purpose, this has been, as far as we can judge, eitherfor protectionor as an attraction between the sexes.”—Darwin,Descent of Man.
The white furs of the animals, liable to become the prey of others amid the snow, are obviously a protection from observation; and likewise in summer, some other colour presenting a diminished contrast with surrounding nature, would have the same effect.
Perhaps this adaptation of colour to surroundings may extend also to certain animals, which would otherwise become extinct if they did not enjoy the facilities it conferred in the capture of their prey when they are placed at a great disadvantage. The Polar bear, for instance, requires no protection from its enemies, but favourable conditions, probably, for approaching its prey unobserved. It seems reasonable to conclude that animals of either class favoured with a colour that enables them either to escape from their pursuers, or, on the other hand, to approach their prey, have, in the struggle for life, the best chance of a prolonged existence, and consequently of leaving the most numerous offspring to perpetuate the race. Though colour is one of the most varying features of animals, it is, whether changing or permanent, beginning to be recognised no longer as capricious or accidental, as we have hitherto usually regarded it, but as the consequence of the survival of the most highly favoured in an endowment conducive to the preservation of the species, a discovery on which the continued observations of naturalists are ever throwing fresh light.—W. C.
This is a small fruit resembling that of the dog rose. A beverage is made from it by infusing the berries for a fortnight in some brandy with sugar, which is not disagreeable to the palate.
In England, in the time of Henry VIII., Sable was probably adopted by wealthy people as a distinctive mark of their social position; otherwise, why should it have become an object of legislation and have been prohibited by the Statute of Apparel (24 Hen. VIII.) to be worn by any under the degree of an earl?
It will, no doubt, be seen from this diverse and often singularly-extravagant appreciation of furs in Russia—and occasionally not so much for their beauty and elegance as for their rarity and great money value—that it is the lucky possessors who are admired and envied in these luxuries, because they are the means of proclaiming and parading so effectively their opulence; and the vain, exulting in this special homage to their exaggerated self-importance, cheerfully buy the gratification at their own appraisement, and thereby give to these furs an exorbitant value.
It might be contended that a single caprice of this nature is insufficient to prove the existence of a passion for the display of wealth, and that such instances must necessarily be rare because the furs are rare.
But it has significance enough to deduce from it its pervading character. The vain, it is true, can be vain only of what they possess; but to suppose these to have undivided possession of the folly, as well as exclusive enjoyment of the highly-prized furs, would be to take no account of the admiring multitude and the envious, without whom the vanity of others would clearly have noraison d’être—no visible existence; for the price of these special badges or symbols, these admirers, the public in fact, so materially sustain, is precisely the measure of the public estimation.
It seems therefore reasonable to infer that the sentiment is general.
Then when a caprice becomesà la mode—“the proper thing to do”—a powerful fresh stimulus is added to the folly, and the feverish desire “to be in the fashion” may develop thepassion into a mania, whether its special objects be badges of wealth, bibelots, tulips, or bric-à-brac, and
“Thus does a false ambition rule us,Thus pomp delude and folly fool us.”
“Thus does a false ambition rule us,Thus pomp delude and folly fool us.”
“Thus does a false ambition rule us,Thus pomp delude and folly fool us.”
But a desire to fall in with the fashion would alone be insufficient to explain the extraordinary price of blue fox feet fur; for a fashion to become a rage must first take the form of an epidemic—a condition rigorously excluded by the very restricted number of possible possessors of the coveted object. And so far as beauty is concerned, however beautiful this fur may be, its beauty would still far less account for the price. That the Russians consider it beautiful, is likely enough, for beauty to most people is purely conventional, and much more readily perceived through the ears than the eyes. Few, perhaps, would contend that the beauty of pearls and diamonds is at all commensurate with their price, and yet those who recognise the exaggeration, might not readily perceive that nearly all their value is derived from the esteem they command as badges or insignia of wealth and competence. If beauty has no objective existence—and there is no evidence that it has any other than as a sentiment or idea—it can have no money value at all in a beautiful object, simply because it is not there, but in the brain of the beholder; and this would, perhaps, explain why so many seem insensible to its influence, and again, why it appeared to Goethe to elude the grasp of definition. How often we vainly imagine we secure it in acquiring some charmingtableau de genreor bit of old china, some rare gem or inimitable enamel, and, at the end of a few months’ familiarity with it, are disappointed at finding that it no longer rouses the enthusiasm we felt on first beholding its wondrous beauty! And yet, ever fondly clinging to the illusion that it is an intrinsic part of the object, we continue the pursuit like the chase of the beautiful blue-winged butterfly of Kashmeer, described inThe Giaour, and not rarely find at lastthat—
“The lovely toy so fiercely sought,Hath lost its charm by being caught.”
“The lovely toy so fiercely sought,Hath lost its charm by being caught.”
“The lovely toy so fiercely sought,Hath lost its charm by being caught.”
But it exists only in the mind, which feels no satisfaction in the constant indulgence of a single emotion, and it may, as in pearls and diamonds, be enjoyed for itself alone, without material possession, as gratuitously as the surpassing beauty of a splendid sunset. Nor would, perhaps, the exigencies of fashion—which may be fully met by imitations so deceptive as to elude ordinary detection—raise the price of the real much beyond the fictitious gem, unless the fashionable were as scrupulous as ladies were in the reign of Elizabeth, who, according to Fuller, “would have as patiently digested a lie, as the wearing of false stones or pendants of counterfeit pearl.”
But regarded as insignia of wealth, possession is asine quâ non, and the extravagant price is essential to its object, and the more extravagant it is, the higher the gratification to be derived from it, because this implies increased distinction—the consequence of fewer enjoying a superfluity of wealth. The desire also to acquire a beautiful article of exaggerated value is independent of an appreciation of beautyper se, and is principally a purely factitious desire, varying for no better reason than because other people in general by a tacit consensus think more or less of it; and if society shouldagree to thinkany object, whether beautiful or not, a convenient vehicle to attract attention to any quality it values, such as wealth, refinement,haut ton, elegance, or culture, anew valueis immediately given to such object, which the rage to acquire may exaggerate to outrageous extravagance. If, for instance, diamonds and pearls had not been taken into favour by princes, from time immemorial all the world over, they might not now, perhaps, have a much higher value than Brighton pebbles or Whitby jet. And if blue fox feet fur had not been adopted by the Muscovite grandees, it might have no higher value than grey fox or squirrel. But it is plainly envy and admiration of riches that the Russian grandees buy, and when they have a relish for the luxury they pay for it as munificently as Lucullus paid for a magnificent supper, who probably thought as little of the epicurean gratification to be got out of a dish of peacock’s brains, as these nabobs think of the comfort orelegance to be got out of a cloak of blue fox feet, the sentimental value of which they estimate at the rate of sixteen hundred pounds sterling!—W. C.
The author of “Chto dyelat” was Tschernishevsky, who wrote it in the Petro-Paolovsky fortress at St. Petersburg. He had written also several romances during his imprisonment, all of which he had burnt with his own hand. According to his own statement, it does not appear that he was imprisoned on account of anything he had written. In the month of December, 1883, he was living as a free convict under surveillance at Astrachan, and on the 11th of this month, had completed his long term of nearly twenty years of banishment. He gave the following account of his treatment as a prisoner to a correspondent of theDaily News, whose interesting letter regarding him was published in that journal, December 22nd, 1883.
“I was always treated by the agents of the Government as respectfully as any man could desire. My treatment was not that of a convict, but, throughout, that of a prisoner of war. The hard labour, of which I have spoken, was for me, as well as for many of the Russian and Polish political exiles, among whom my lot was cast, a name only—it existed on paper, but had no reality.”—W. C.
The reader perhaps may not know why, in mentioning the names of certain persons, their family names are preceded by two baptismal names. It is because in Russia courtesy demands that, in addressing anyone, you should add the baptismal name of his father, to which is affixed the terminationovitch. Thus Iwan Michäelovitch Nemptchinof means Iwan the son of Michael Nemptchinof. This double appellation, not merely polite, but indeed the most respectful of all,especially when the family name is not added, is so rigorously exacted by usage, that the Emperor, in the public acts, is designated Alexander Nicolaevitch. It is one of the grossest insults to address anyone by his sole baptismal name as we are accustomed to do in our intimacies: it seems that in omitting the name of the father in addressing a Russian you would insinuate that he was obscure and unknown and of illegitimate birth.
The same fact has been remarked by Blanchard (Animaux articulés, Paris, 1846), and by Lacordaire (Introduction à l’entomologie, tomeIII,page 383).
The Desert of Gobi properly so called is a little less in extent than the Sahara; it must not be forgotten, however, that the countries bordering it, especially on the west, are actual deserts.
The depressing effect on the mind of the traveller, produced by the aspect of monotonous scenery, has been noticed by M. Gabriel Charmes, in an excursion in the Auvergne (Journal des Débats, July, 1881), who attributes the habitual lowness of spirits of the peasantry to the cheerless uniformity of certain parts of the Cantal, amid which they dwell. As some of these are said to become sorcerers from the prolonged effect, may not the gloomy character of the Mongolian religion be largely attributable to the dismal baldness of their desert? M. Gabriel Charmes thus describes the mountains of the Cantal and their influence on the mind of the spectator: “I have referred to those great, sterile, melancholy table-lands, that are everywhere met with in the Cantal and the mountainous district of the Puy-de-Dôme. In the spring even, when the long grassis mingled with an abundance of flowers, it is almost impossible to traverse them, and quite impossible to dwell there, without feeling some vague, unaccountable weight or oppression on the spirits, similar to that experienced by those who live on the sea-shore, in sight of the incessant monotony of the waves. The clouds depict on them great dark shadows, which, driven on by a brisk wind, flit past like gigantic phantoms. This perpetual play of shadows and light is the only diversity that arrests the eye in the interminable uniformity. They, therefore, who frequent them a long while, acquire, in course of time, strange habits of mind. It is a very widely spread opinion among the peasantry of the Auvergne, that the cow-herds, who pass most of the year on the lonely hills, actually become wizards. The special fixedness, perhaps, which the contemplation of an unvarying nature stamps on their sight, is the cause of this prejudice.... The mind contracts there a kind of natural melancholy, and this seems to dispose it to sadness rather than joyousness.” It is not probable that the monotony of the waves produces the same effect, for here we have movement, with which the mind sympathises, and, being thus relieved, does not readily become a prey to melancholy. The sea is very different from the motionless, unchanging desert.—W. C.
Notes bearing no initials at the end are taken from the Original Edition.
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