and accompanying every blow and injurious expression with reproaches of his ingratitude, "Didn't I save you, you rascal, from going to Siberia ?" On inquiring into the story, the officer himself related, that during an insurrection, in which his family perished, he had been shut up in a wooden out-house containing the bath-room, and this had been set fire to. His faithful slave, by raising the alarm of the approach of Cossacks, and then concealing him in the adjacent building, saved him from the fury of the mob. The master subsequently rescued him from the exile with which the whole village was punished; but perhaps the reader may not feel disposed to coincide in the opinion he seemed to entertain, that he had balanced the debt of gratitude in his favour.

The foreign land steward of some vast estate in the government of Perm, related to the author that he never ventured to spend the night in any of the villages belonging to his master, his immediate predecessor having disappeared, with two or three servants accompanying him, and all search for him having proved fruitless. The same thing had happened formerly on the same domain, and within a recent date on several adjacent ones. The Permaks, or Permese, are, however, not Muscovite; they are of mixed Finnish and Mongolian origin, and always show in their demeanour a sullen dislike.

Within the space of about three months from each other, the author became immediately acquainted with the two following instances among the purely Muscovite population :-A young officer received by letter, whilst he was present, an account from his father of the utter devastation of their estate, with its usual accompaniments of incendiarism and bloodshed. In this case, the insurrection had spread over a considerable tract of country, yet he never heard it alluded to in the capital except by another sufferer, a neighbour and friend of the first. The next instance, of which it will be as well to abridge the horrible details, the author learned from the brother of the land steward of the estate on which it took place. He had himself seen this man depart with his wife from his brother's, some months previously, to take charge of an estate said to be small and in wretched condition. To judge from his conversation it was evident that he would be no very merciful master. He observed that there was no village so poor that something might not be squeezed from it. The wife seemed rather more eager than the husband. The author saw him start in his kibitka, in which, amongst other things, he embarked a large violoncello, an instrument on which he professed himself an accomplished performer. A few months after, husband and wife had both been murdered in a rising of the slaves. The brother, in narrating it, spoke of them as the mildest of human beings, and considered the conduct of the serfs as utterly unprovoked; but however that might be, nothing could well exceed the ferocity to which they had been roused. The old woman was scalded to death in a hot caldron, the steward tortured to death, and his intestines, in derision, twisted into strings for his favourite violoncello.

It is not unfrequently argued in favour of Russian servage, that in many parts the peasantry look sleek, contented, and happy. But it should be remembered how little constitutes perfect affluence for a Russian serf, and that when he has even risen to the rank of meschinine, or of a wealthy agriculturist, he is rendered happy by the addition to his black

bread, salt, and cabbage-pies, of a pickled herring, a little dark, treaclecoloured oil, sipped with the spoon like broth, and a little tallow, or salt butter to add to his buck-wheat.

On the other hand, it is quite unfair to compare the condition of the Russian peasantry of those districts which are allowed to enjoy a considerable degree of material prosperity, with that of the population of western Europe, densely crowded, and suffering from historic causes. The rich and luxuriant virgin soil of the territory they inhabit requires only that they should be permitted to become wealthy: we can only fairly contrast them with the settlers of the western states of North America.

Of all places, it is argued, assuredly the Russian empire is the one in which the theory and practice of institutions are most at variance, and where custom has become the most general law. Now is it not true that the great majority of the wealthy men in the empire (not being themselves slave-holders) are to be found amongst the slaves? Are there not slave proprietors who take a pride in having prosperous and wealthy slaves, and who exact no higher capitation tax from the rich than from the poor? The Sheremetieffs, who are the owners of half the fruiterers in St. Petersburg, and of some of the richest commercial men in that city,-have they not, by their capital, their influence, and their weight, aided them to this result? Has not the slave this further advantage over the freemen, that he cannot be made liable for any debt exceeding five shillings? Have not these serfs a protection extended to them from their lords, who exert all their influence in their favour, which, as freed men, they might be entirely without? And is it not of rare occurrence to find any of these wealthy slaves stripped of their fortunes by their lords?

In the first place, it must be observed, that slaves are not frequently stripped of their wealth by their masters, because it is only under indulgent masters that they attain it. In the next place, although the prosperity of the slave is trumpeted forth, he does not dare, nor does his master care, that any thing should be said about his spoliation.

A plain, old, honest English author, one Captain John Perry, who served as engineer under Peter the Great, and published an account of Muscovy in 1716, says at that time, talking of the wrongs of those under

him

"When I have promised that I would do my utmost, and engage to obtain right for them, they have thereupon begged of me by no means to mention the things which they have complained of, alleging this for their reason, that even though they should obtain right at that time, yet that they were sure afterwards to suffer and to be ruined for their complaining of those in power over them, who would mark them but as informers."

This as perfectly applies to Russia now as at the time it was written; it is the "reason" of John Perry's subordinates, that allows no voice to be raised in complaint within the Russian empire. The wrongs of free countries, like their beggars, crowd themselves with importunity upon your notice; in Russia, both must be sought out in their dens of misery, or they will escape observation.

It is quite true that some wealthy proprietors not only take a pride in

the prosperity of their slaves, but largely contribute to it. It is not Jong since a very wealthy fruiterer (and the St. Petersburg fruiterers are all wealthy, combining the sale of wines, of grocery, and comestibles, with that of foreign fruit) offended a lady, who complained to the military governor of St. Petersburg. The military governor peremptorily ordered his shop to be shut up. Had the fruiterer been a freedman, he would have had no redress; but he was a slave of the Countess Sheremetieffs. He threw himself at her feet, and implored her intercession. The countess, who had the ear of the empress, caused her complaint to be laid before the emperor, and thus obtained for her slave immediate redress!

But even the pride of being owner of the wealthiest and happiest slaves in the empire has serious drawbacks; these very Sheremetieffs, like most of the other proprietors who entertain this pride, are as unwilling to part with a rich slave, as a numismatist with a rare medal of his collection, or a florist with a valuable root. Thus to the merchant, the very disinterestedness which has enabled him to attain prosperity is fatal to his chances of liberty. A rapacious master might be tempted by his hoarded gold to sell him-to himself.

It may be said, why wish to extricate himself from bonds so gentle? But the merchant-slave with his five or ten thousand a year, whose children have been brought up to the elegancies of life, can never forget that he himself and all that are dear to him, may to-morrow pass into the hands of the heir of his present master, and that his new proprietor may have less taste for a collection of the wealthiest and happiest slaves in the empire, than for the wealth they had collected.

It is customary in most villages of slaves, for the lord to allow a determined proportion of them to quit their village, and flock to the towns to obtain work, to trade, or hire themselves out as servants; and they pay a proportionate tax, called the abrok. If a peasant is found without his lord's passport or paper proving him to be a freeman, he is advertised in the public papers like a stray head of cattle, and if unclaimed is eventually transferred to the domain of the crown. The Journal de St. Petersburg, as well as all the other newspapers of the empire, devotes on each appearance, a column to this list of runaway slaves.

It is singular enough, that even in Russia the advantages of voluntary labour over that which is compulsory, are tacitly recognised. It is common to find the proprietor of a thousand slaves hiring, as a domestic servant, the slave of another, and paying him high wages.

If by dint of exertion the slave thus allowed to seek his fortune can succeed in trade, or in hoarding up money to pay the proper fees, he becomes a meschinine. Once a meschinine, according to the annual dues which he can afford to pay, he may become a third, a second, or a first guild merchant, which latter gives him the privilege of driving four horses in his carriage, even though he may not have succeeded in purchasing his personal freedom from his lord; and should he have become a freeman, he cannot be a holder of slaves-a right reserved to nobility; and, by virtue of his office, every official whose rank corresponds with that of ensign is a nobleman.

A DREAMER AWAKENED.

WHERE to what happy land shall we two stray,-
We two, with no ally, save Love alone?

Were shall we rest awhile, and build our home?
Beside the waters of what sunny bay?

Under what forest arch, or azure dome ?—
Somewhere we'll live out life, in a serener day
Than we have ever known!

Come! let us leave the city tumult, dim
With smoke and blinding fogs, and faces grim
With hot and sooty toil,-

Abandoning a rank, ungrateful soil,

Which feeds the stately growth and creeper strong, (That winds its subtle, snaky length along,)

But leaves to die

The trampled meadow sweets, and flowers of humble eye. Come! let us leave this land:-I see, afar,

On either side the wild surrounding sea, Beneath a calmer sky, a happier star,

Regions of liberty,

Islands and continents,-with mountains high,

Clear lakes, and dimpling streams, and forests deep,
Amidst whose glades, unharm'd, the wild deer lie,
Beneath whose boughs the simple shepherds sleep;
Their flocks in fold; the day's mild labour done;
Where, free as air,-erect, without disdain,
Or fear, or hate, or poverty, or pain,
The true Arcadian (each from sire to son)
Treads his clear way along ;-

His happy peasant wife, untouch'd by care,
Winding her silk, the while, in open air,

And singing (a welcome home) her cheerful song,
At set of sun!

*

Awake! thou tarrier in the land of dreams!

Ungrateful is the task to force thee rise,—
To scatter to the winds those flowery themes,
Which poets wove beneath Saturnian skies:
But Man must mingle now in manly strife,
For Labour is the price of daily life,—

The price?-the Blessing!-Without toil of brain
Or hand, green Earth would gloom a barren plain,
Dull, listless, hopeless,-one eternal day

Of dreary leisure,-vacant holiday,—

A clime that hath no freshness, cloud, nor rain,
No change, save from satiety to pain :-

I say this who have toil'd, and also had my gain!
-Labour, curse not! Brave Labour (such as fits
The age and sinews of the worker,) knits
The mind, the body, into health and strength.
And then sweet Leisure, when it comes at length,
Earn'd and endear'd by toil, is sweetest made,
sunny spot of life that gilds the shade!

The

B. C.

HOW TO MAKE A LONG DAY.

BY LAMAN BLANCHARD.

TIME, as we learn from the lips of one of truth's wittiest expositors, can amble, trot, and gallop-and he can also stand still. How absurd to figure him to the mechanical understanding as a traveller who knows but one unvarying pace, and no pause at all from century to century!

To measure every day simply by the number of minutes it contains is to act upon a most fallacious and deceptive principle. When we have, with the nicest exactness, estimated the hours according to their duration in seconds, we may determine, with precisely the same accuracy, the value of bank-notes by their weight. The work of the scale in one case would be performed by the clock in the other; the large note and the small, both being of the same size, would be matched by the long hour and the short, each counting a like number of seconds.

Nothing is liable to such continual and extraordinary variation as time; the present hour differing so from the next that the minutes of one may be as years in the other; nay, as a vast eternity, ever dying and yet endless. Our lamentations over the shortness of life might be spared when we reflect upon the many long days that fall to the lot of every creature in his turn; though there is little perhaps of liveliness in the thought that all these long days are emphatically and necessarily the dull ones of our year, and that this very dullness regulates the degrees of their duration. Nor is it of much avail to seek comfort by counting up the happier days that have intervened, for these are always found to be the shortest in the calendar.

But for the Long Days. Some people cultivate a habit of bespeaking them-they have them " to order" as often as they please. These are the persons who, without the slightest reference to any one thing in the world save a friendly sentiment which has long subsisted between themselves and somebody whom perhaps they seldom meet, blandly and kindly, but rashly, madly, and destructively invite the said somebody to come and spend "a long day" with them! Without one solitary thought bestowed on the means of getting through the twelve hours, they ask a fellow-creature to come, with all his preconcerted and extempore tediousness, and help to draw out the dreary dozen into twenty-four!

Let no such amiable idiots bewail the brevity of their mortal date, when they can thus lengthen their days at will, simply by inviting an acquaintance to exercise a similar power equally possessed by him! The long day" is sure to be theirs, under such circumstances; no matter whether the wind be in the east or the west, whether the rain pelts or the sun parches, whether the guest be Mr. or Mrs. Damper; that long, long day is destined to be their own, as certain as that they must be at home and down early at breakfast, to welcome their esteemed and excellent visiter, who had with glorious self-denial risen at daybreak, on purpose to enjoy a full brimming measure of time-to make for once a long day of it.

"Come and spend a long day with us," said the kind simpleton, as he chanced to reflect that he could contrive to be at home on Tuesday, and that Mrs. Damper (for Mrs. it is, whatever may be the sex) was