officer nobly put at his disposal. Such was the mysterious end of Castrén's scientific journey to the Murman Coast.

In Archangel he contrived to fall in with a Samoiedian, who was so delighted with his generosity that he offered to follow him to the end of the world. This man he raised to the rank of his instructor in the Samoiedian language, and went to live with him in a village called Uima, about seventeen versts from Archangel, where he remained all the autumn, busily engaged in studying.

Towards the end of November M. Castrén quitted Archangel for the third time, with the firm determination of not returning to this town again, whatever might be the result of his impending journey to the Samoiedian Tundra. Nor were his friends sparing of their advice, and painted in the most gloomy colours the dangers to which he would be exposed; but his enthusiasm in the cause of science was so sincere that nothing would have stopped him at that time. His route led him, in the first instance, to Cholmogory, formerly a renowned fortress but now a poor town. This would be a fine field for archæologists, as there is an ancient temple and cemetery attached, which would well repay excavation. Thence he proceeded to Pinesa, and afterwards to Mesen, the last abode of civilisation to the east of Europe. Up to this spot the country is inhabited by Russian Christians, but beyond, the Samoiedian population commences, still greatly infected with paganism. Our author tried to get on friendly terms with some Samoiedes, but their conduct was so bad that he was compelled to go forty versts further to the village of Somsha, the head-quarters of the Samoiedes at that time. Unfortunately, his exertions were frustrated, for he found the poor people attacked by an universal mania of drunkenness. As Castrén could not procure an interpreter by fair means, he was obliged to have recourse to his ministerial papers, and insisted on a sober and respectable interpreter being procured him instanter. The Samoiedes are an obedient and easily daunted people, and found him a man who was in the enviable reputation of being the cleverest Samoiede in the whole Tundra of Kanin. He tried him, but in a few hours the Samoiede grew tired of answering questions, and pretended to be ill. He threw himself on the ground, and begged for mercy, till our author became so exasperated that he eventually kicked him out of doors. Soon after he saw him lying in a state of intoxication before the public-house in the snow.

The following description will give our readers a fair idea of the horrible spread of intoxication among the Samoiedes:

The whole snow-field round this temple of Bacchus was covered with prostrate heroes and heroines. They all lay with their faces imbedded in snow, and had become partially sober. The silence of the grave prevailed in this circle, which rendered the noisy yells from the house still louder. For all this no fighting took place, but all were jolly together. Now and then a halfintoxicated man came out of the house with a coffee-pot in his hand, and walked very cautiously through the snow, lest any of the precious contents might be spilled, examining each fallen comrade, and evidently searching for a mother, a wife, or some beloved relative. As soon as they discovered the object of their search, they turned the slumberer's face upwards, put the spout of the coffee-pot in their mouths, and let the pleasant nectar run down his or her throat. After this the patient was returned to the old position, care being taken to cover the countenance, lest it might be frozen.

On the 19th December, a kibitka, drawn by two horses, was standing before the house of the director of police at Mesen. A crowd of men and women, old and young, speedily collected, waiting anxiously for the moment when the traveller would appear, and speculating compassionately on the causes of his emigration to Siberia. When Castrén made his appearance, he was attacked by a swarm of beggars, who implored alms. An old woman was specially importunate. Give the poor a dianeschka, she will then pray for you, and the Mother of God will protect you on the journey; she listens to the prayers of the poor!" This supplication unloosed his purse-strings, and on starting he saw a row of old men and women with their faces turned to the church, crossing themselves, and praying for the traveller's welfare. Under such auspices Castrén commenced his Samoiedian journey. His route was far from an agreeable one; a distance of 700 versts over the desolate steppes of the Tundras of Kanin and Timan, to the Russian village of Pustosersk, at the mouth of the Petchora, where he would have to resign all the comforts of life, sleep at times in the open air on the storm-ridden Tundras, or in the frail tent-huts of the Samoiedes, where the snow finds its way through the crevices of the walls, the flame of the candle flickers in the winds, and the wolf-skin affords the sole protection against the cold. But it is the first duty of a scientific traveller to make himself at home under all circumstances, and not give in to discomforts, when the object is to make valuable discoveries. We are sure no savan ever behaved more conscientiously in this respect than M. Castrén.

These Tundra, over which the route led, are the most desolate steppes that can be conceived: as barren as their mother the sea. If the winds did not officiously disperse the snow, which Heaven in its charity scatters over this gloomy country, it would be difficult to say on which element the traveller found himself. Here and there a thin pine forest may be descried, or a small wood of low willows, which point to the presence of some stream forcing its way lazily through the flat Tundra. On more careful inspection, little elevations may be everywhere seen, which in their external form resemble the rocks of Lapland, but during the winter they can be scarcely distinguished, as the hollows all around them are then filled with snow. At the spot where such inequality may be traced on the surface, the ground is naked, or at the most covered with a thick, hard crust of snow, through whose crevices the reindeer moss may be seen in its luxuriance. This was all our author could see on his northern journey from Somsha. The earth was desolate and empty, as at the commencement of creation, and even the sky was dark. At length they saw a tent, and Castrén purposely remained without, to see what manner of reception he would meet with. To his surprise, however, he was not invited into the tent, but was at length forced to enter sans cérémonie. The only inmate he found was a young lady, busily engaged in gnawing a lump of raw meat, that was frozen perfectly hard. After handing round the brandy bottle, our author was forced to continue his journey to the village of Nes, which he reached in the night, after being exposed to a terrible storm.

This village, situated on a river of the same name, was formerly a brandy depôt, and, consequently, a great place of resort for the Samoiedes of the Tundra of Kanin. In the year 1825 a mission was

established for the purpose of converting the Samoiedes, which met with great success; and a church was erected in Nes. The depôt was therefore removed to Somsha, and Nes quite deserted by the Samoiedes. Under these circumstances our author thought Nes a famous place for his lingual studies, and remained there over Christmas.

With the clergyman's lady he had the peculiar good fortune of seeing how the Samoiedes celebrate their marriage festivities, at a spot about thirty versts from the church. When a Samoiede wishes to marry, he first looks for a spokesman, and goes with him to the dwelling of the parents of the lady he has selected. When they arrive, it is the custom for the bridegroom to remain in his sledge without, while the spokesman goes in and executes his commission. If the answer be in the negative, they return home; if the father give his consent, the spokesman inquires when the marriage can be consummated. This by no means presumes that the marriage will really take place, for the bridegroom must agree as to the amount he will give for his bride. The swain has already decided as to the value of the lady, but if the father sets a higher price upon her, the spokesman returns to his client, and consults with him as to whether they may venture to add a reindeer or two to the price offered. If they eventually agree, the spokesman leads the loving swain with him into the tent.

After the betrothal the bridegroom does not visit his bride, but leaves all arrangements in the hands of the spokesman. Shortly before the wedding the bride's relatives pay a visit to the bridegroom. After eating and drinking to their heart's content, the spokesman binds two male and two female reindeer together, in such wise that they walk behind each other, covers the two first with red cloth, fastens a bell to the leader, drives them thrice round the bridegroom's tent, and then fastens them to his sledge; after that they go to visit the bride. When they reach her home, the spokesman drives thrice round her tent, and then leaves the bridegroom, who remains seated in his sledge. On the bridegroom's arrival the reindeer is killed, a glass of brandy is swallowed, and the banquet commences, at which, however, the bridegroom must not be present: the spokesman carries him out food and brandy, which he devours in his sledge. When the meal is over the spokesman at length conducts the bridegroom into the tent. Here the relatives of the bridegroom are seated on one side of the hearth, those of the bride on the other. The spokesman sits at the feet of the happy couple. After everybody has taken his seat the host begins regaling the guests with brandy. The first glass he hands to the bridegroom, who half empties it, and gives the other half to the bride; afterwards boiled meat is devoured, and the bridegroom receives the heart. After this all ceremony is over, and they drink as much as they like. With these preliminary remarks, we will go with M. Castrén to the wedding he assisted at.

It was an act, or properly speaking, only a scene of the romantic drama, at which I was present. On our arrival the incidents were so far advanced, that all the guests had been well treated: some of them were already lying hors de combat on the field. They lay there with bare heads, pressed into the snow, and so protected from the wind. But see! there comes the husband, moves from one carcase to the other, at length recognises his bride, seizes her by the head, turns her with her back to the wind, and then throws himself down by

her side, nose to nose. Another runs about with a coffee-pot, looks for his beloved, finds her, and pours some brandy down her throat. Here some one finds an enemy, gives him a few treacherous blows, and crawls off. While regarding this bacchanalian scene, I was surrounded by a whole swarm of guests each had something to say or ask, and I had great difficulty in escaping from them, and reaching the open air. Here I saw a number of girls playing: they had divided into two bands, each of seven, and playing with a cap, which was thrown from one to the other. The group that had the cap turned their backs to the others, and tried to hide it in the snow; the others then fell upon them, and strove with all their strength to gain possession of the cap. After looking at them for some time I returned to the tent, where the host invited me to a cup of tea. After tea a splendid reindeer was killed, by a blow on the head; a knife was then driven into the heart, the skin was stripped off, the stomach cut open, and the entrails taken out. The interior resembled a huge oval vessel, in which the heart, liver, and other dainty morsels, were floating in a mass of blood. The host took my hand, led me up to the animal, and begged me to fall to. Though this request was so distinctly expressed I was simple enough not to comprehend it, but remained in a state of inaction by the side of the animal. In the mean while the guests assembled, pulled out their long knives, cut off pieces of the quivering meat, and, after dipping them in the blood, carried them to their mouths. The liver and heart were eaten as dessert. . . . It would now be high time to say something about the married couple; but little more need be said about the bridegroom, except that he lay drunk at the entrance of the hut, and remained there during the whole of my stay. The bride was a child of thirteen, and considered a real beauty among the Samoiedes. A little round face, pouting red lips and cheeks, a white forehead, black locks, little gleaming eyes, are the characteristics of a Samoiedian fair one.

Soon after, the commencement of hostilities among the guests caused our author to quit the scene precipitately with the clergyman's wife; and as he could not make much progress in his study of Samoiedian, he quitted Nes shortly after. His difficulties in this respect were not trifling, for the first teacher he obtained left him very speedily, through dislike of the confinement, and the second was a perfect idiot. For instance, when Castrén asked him to translate the phrase "My wife is ill," he converted it into " Thy wife is ill." If he asked him to translate "Thy wife is ill," he would reply, "If you're talking of my wife, she is perfectly well." "But suppose you wanted to come and tell me that your wife was ill, how would you say it in your language?" Samoiede replied, "When I came to you my wife was quite well, and I cannot know whether she has been taken ill in the mean while." This was truly a pursuit of knowledge under difficulties!

The

Among the other delights of these Tundra, it may be mentioned en passant that they are far from safe travelling, as Russian vagabonds are continually prowling about them on predatory forays, seeking what they can devour. One of them our author fell in with, but by firmness he managed to escape with a whole skin. Another unpleasantness too, to which the author was repeatedly exposed, was the continued reports spread to his injury among the Samoiedes, that he was sent out to tax the inhabitants, and would carry those, who refused to pay, in chains to Archangel.

The village of Pustoserkz, on the lake of Pustoie, is one of the most desolate places our author ever saw. Not a trace of forest or vegetation is to be seen here; not even rocks and stones; there is nothing but a

boundless snow-plain, on which the storms carry on their wild sport unrestrained. The wind frequently strips the roofs of the huts, and piles up masses of snow, which rise above the tops of the tents. In this horrible hole M. Castrén remained several months, for the purpose of continuing his study of the Samoiedian language and customs, and for this it was an excellent spot, as it lay in the centre of the Samoiede tribes. It was true that he never met with a sober individual, but for all that it was a great advantage for him to hold daily intercourse with people of various lands, who gave him much valuable information. After remaining at Pustoserkz as long as any Samoiedes were to be found in the neighbourhood, our author set out for a village that lay 150 versts to the south, up the banks of the Petchora. The country was so desolate, that the priests then said it had not formed any part of the creation, but had merged into existence after the deluge. In this village, which was known by the calliphonous name of Ustsylmsk, our author was in considerable peril, through the obstinate behaviour of a sect of Raskolniks, and he was eventually forced to quit in all haste, or he might have paid the penalty of his life. After leaving this inhospitable spot he proceeded up the river Petchora to the little village of Kolwa, where a church has been lately erected, and here he remained for the rest of the summer, and was forced to continue his studies in an underground cellar, as the heat and damp, flies and vermin, were so oppressive.

On the 18th of September M. Carstén at length started once more on his travels, and after a tedious and fatiguing journey, eventually came in sight of the Ural Mountains, and after passing through one of the "Gates," reached Obdorsk on the 9th of November. Our author states that this expedition, that lasted two whole months, was the most dangerous and unpleasant of all the journeys he undertook.

Obdorsk is a place of considerable trade, founded by the Russians nearly a century back. It is, however, still a most uncultivated spot, where nothing is thought of but profit, made by cheating the openhearted, simple natives of all they have earned by the sweat of their brow. On our author taking up his quarters at the house of a person who had lately immigrated from Tobolsk, he found the whole family sitting on the ground, and devouring a raw fish, which the house-father himself cut up and divided. When he afterwards called on the most educated man in the town, a subaltern official, he boasted only of having eaten raw meat for half a year. Even a Polish exile, whose acquaintance he formed here, and who had once been a celebrated cook in Petersburg, told him, with tears in his eyes, that his profession brought him in but little in Obdorsk, as the people lived there à la Samoiede." They certainly possessed houses, some of them two stories high, but they were built of old ship timber, and afforded but poor protection in the winter against the cold and piercing wind. But, to do justice to Obdorsk, our author found there something reminding him of civilised society, such as brilliant shawls, rustling dresses, good wine, and famous tobacco, Suwarrow No. 1. He found himself, however, but scurvily treated by the inhabitants, who decidedly turned the cold shoulder to him, and this was not surprising, as they thought he intended to poach on their manors, as he paid so much attention to the natives.

It was not long before all his attention was challenged by the swarms