impossible to persuade oneself that such persons can be apostles of the divine word. As usual in the Greek Church, they are all married and have large families. You may look in vain in their dwellings for any indication of their sacred character. A few coarsely-coloured pictures of saints, and a few books flung into a corner of the room, in which the whole family are huddled together, are the only marks of the profession exercised by the master of the house. As they receive nothing from the state, it is the unfortunate serfs who must support their establishments, and even supply them with the means of indulging their gluttony and drunkenness. It is particularly on the eve of a great Church festival, that the Russian priest is sure of an abundant harvest of poultry, eggs, and meal. Easter is the most remarkable of these festivals, and lasts a whole week. During the preceding seven weeks of Lent, the Russian must not eat either eggs, meat, fish, oil, butter, or cheese. His diet consists only of salted cucumbers, boiled vegetables, and different kinds of porridge. The fortitude with which he endures so long a penance, proves the mighty influence which religious ideas possess over such rude minds. During the last few days that precede the festival, he is not allowed to take any food before sunset, and then it may be fairly admitted that brandy is a real blessing for him.
It is impossible to imagine all the discussions that take place between the popes and the peasants on these occasions. As the Russian must then fulfil his religious duties, whether he will or not, he is at the mercy of the priest, who of course makes him pay as dearly as he can for absolution, and keeps a regular tariff, in which offences and punishments are set down with minute precision. Thus for a theft, so many dozens of eggs; for breach of a fast, so many chickens, &c. If the serf is refractory, the punishment is doubled, and nothing can save him from it. The thought of complaining to his lord of the pope's extortionate cupidity never enters his head; for assuredly, if he were to adopt such a course, he would think himself damned to all eternity.
As long as the holidays last, the lords keep open table, and every one is free to enter and take part in the banquet. Such was the practice of the knias (princes) and boyards of old, who lived as sovereigns in their feudal mansions, and extended their hospitality to all strangers, without distinction of country or lineage. Many travellers allege that this patriarchal custom still prevails in some families of Great Russia. But here, except on gala days, most of the pometshiks live in such a shabby style, as gives but a poor idea of their means or of their dispositions.
To return to our Easter holidays: the last week of Lent is employed in making an immense quantity of cakes, buns, and Easter bread, and in staining eggs with all sorts of colours. A painter was brought expressly from Kherson to our entertainer's mansion for this purpose, and he painted more than 1000 eggs, most of them adorned with cherubims, fat-cheeked angels, virgins, and all the saints in paradise. The whole farm was turned topsy-turvy, the work was interrupted, and the steward's authority suspended. Every one was eager to assist in the preparations for merry making; some put up the swings, others arranged the ball-room; some were intent on their devotions, others half-smothered themselves in the vapour baths, which are one of the most favourite indulgences of the Russian people: all in short were busy in one way or other. A man with a barrel organ had been engaged for a long while beforehand, and when he arrived every face beamed with joy. The Russians are passionately fond of music. Often in the long summer evenings, after their tasks are ended, they sit in a circle and sing with a precision and harmony that evince a great natural aptitude for music. Their tunes are very simple and full of melancholy; and as their plaintive strains are heard rising at evening from some lonely spot in the midst of the desert plain, they often produce emotions, such as more scientific compositions do not always awaken.
At last Easter day was come. In the morning we were greatly surprised to find our sitting-room filled with men who were waiting for us, and were meanwhile refreshing themselves with copious potations of brandy. The evening before we had been sent two bottles of that liquor, and a large basket of cakes and painted eggs, but without any intimation of the use they were to be put to; but we at once understood the meaning of this measure, when we saw all these peasants in their Sunday trim, and a domestic serving out drink to them, by way I suppose of beguiling the time until we made our appearance.
The moment my husband entered the room, all those red-bearded fellows surrounded him, and each with great gravity presented him with a painted egg, accompanying the gift with three stout kisses. In compliance with the custom of the country my husband had to give each of them an egg in return, and a glass of brandy, after first putting it to his own lips. But the ceremony did not end there: Kooda barinya? kooda barinya? (where is madame), nadlegit (it must be so), and so I was forced to come among them and receive my share of the eggs and embraces. During all Easter week the peasant has a right to embrace whomsoever he pleases, not even excepting the emperor and the empress. This is a relic of the old patriarchal manners which prevailed so long unaltered all over northern Europe. In Russia, particularly, where extremes meet, the peasant to this day addresses the czar with thou and thee, and calls him father in speaking to him.
When we had got rid of these queer visitors we repaired to the parlour, where the morning repast was served up with a profusion worthy of the times of Pantagruel. In the centre of the table stood a sucking pig flanked with small hams, German sausages, chitterlings, black puddings, and large dishes of game. A magnificent pie containing at least a dozen hares, towered like a fortress at one end of the table, and seemed quite capable of sustaining the most vehement onslaught of the assailants. The sondag and the sterlet, those choice fish of Southern Russia, garnished with aromatic herbs, betokened the vicinity of the sea. Imagine, in addition to all these things, all sorts of cordial waters, glass vases filled with preserves, and a multitude of sponge cake castles, with their platforms frosted and heaped with bonbons, and the reader will have an idea of the profuse good cheer displayed by the Russian lords on such occasions.
General Potier, surrounded by all his household retinue, and by some other guests, impatiently awaited the arrival of the pope, whose benediction was an indispensable preliminary to the banquet. He arrived at ten o'clock precisely, accompanied by a monk, and began to chant a hallelujah, walking two or three times round the table; then blessing each dish separately, he concluded by bravely attacking the sucking pig, to the best part of which he helped himself. This was the signal to begin; every one laid hold on what he liked without ceremony; the pie, the hams, and the fish, all vanished. For more than a quarter of an hour nothing was to be heard but a continual noise of knives and forks, jaws munching, and glasses hobnobbing. The pope set a bright example, and his rubicund face fully declared the pleasure he took in fulfilling such functions of his office.
The Russians in general are remarkable for gluttony, such as perhaps is without a parallel elsewhere. The rudeness of their climate and their strong digestive powers would account for this. They make five meals daily, and those so copious and substantial that one of them would alone be amply sufficient for an inhabitant of the south.
During the repast a choir of girls stood before the windows and sang several national airs in a very pleasing style; after which they received the usual gratuity of nuts with tokens of the liveliest glee. The Russians are strict observers of all ancestral customs, and Easter would be no Easter for them if it came without eggs or nuts.
On leaving the breakfast table we proceeded to the place where the sports were held; but there I saw nothing of that hearty merriment that elsewhere accompanies a popular holiday. The women, in their best attire, clung to the swings, I will not say gracefully, but very bodily, and in a manner to shame the men, who found less pleasure in looking at them than in gorging themselves with brandy in their smoky kabaks. Others danced to the sound of the organ with cavaliers, whose zigzag movements told of plenteous libations. Some old women nearly dead drunk went from one group to another singing obscene songs, and falling here and there in the middle of the road, without any one thinking of picking them up.
We noticed on this occasion an essential characteristic of the Russian people. In this scene of universal drunkenness there was no quarrelling; not a blow was struck. Nothing can rouse the Russians from their apathy; nothing can quicken the dull current of their
