In examining the ancient mythology of the Slaves the reader will be particularly struck not only with the great resemblance it bears to that of the classic Greeks, but by the apparent engrafting of many of its superstitions and forms of worship on the Christian religion as professed in Russia and Greece. Perhaps this affinity between the ancient Pagan creeds of the two nations may be the cause why both have so easily embraced the same form of Christianity. The similitude which is so plainly seen between the Russo-Greek Church and the heathen system of former ages may also be the reason why mythology is forbidden to be studied in the schools throughout the empire. Paganism indeed seems not yet to have entirely disappeared from the land, and it is curious to remark how easy it is to trace some of the acts and ceremonies of the Russian Church to their heathen origin. Almost every god and goddess of antiquity has a corresponding saint in the calendar, and many of their high festivals are apparently merely those of their Pagan creed under another name; so difficult is it to eradicate the idolatrous superstitions of a nation, or to instil into the hearts of a people the sentiments of a pure religion. The extreme reverence with which the images of the Virgin and Child are regarded, and their rich settings, are most probably only the adoration of their former much-loved idol the ZolotaÏa Baba, or the golden woman; who, according to their mythology, was the mother of the gods. It was highly gilt, and held in its arms the figure of a child. In the Russian Church the Virgin is never, I believe, represented without the infant Christ.

The blessing of the waters, which is performed twice a year, although now regarded as a Christian ceremony, is one very likely to have been derived from the adoration of the great rivers by the Sclavonic races, especially the Bog, the Don, and the Danube. The first-named was, according to the historian, who quotes Procopius as his authority, held in the most estimation by them; they never approached its shores without fear and trembling, and they drank of its waters with awe, as if by so doing they profaned the sacred stream. Lomonosof, the author, even asserts that the Russian name for God (Bog) is identical with its designation.

The great attachment of the people to the pictures of their saints, on which the rich, especially of the merchant class, lavish immense sums, may be traced to the domestic gods of their ancestors, which were called Domovi Doukhi, or house-protectors, the Lares and Penates of the Slaves.[32] In every wealthy shopkeeper’s best apartment there is a place assigned for the patron saints of the family, generally in the corner, in which is fixed a closet with a glass door, entirely filled with them; their settings are very costly, generally of silver, gold, and precious stones. Every shop possesses at least one image, and in the piazzas of the Gostinoi Dwor there are large portraits of the Virgin suspended, before which lamps are continually kept burning. In the nobility’s houses the saints’ images are usually placed in the sleeping-room.

The Russians say that on St. Elias’s day it always thunders, which they religiously believe is caused by the rumbling of his chariot-wheels among the clouds; as according to their account the saint takes a drive in heaven on his name’s day. Undoubtedly this superstition must have been derived from the worship of Peroun, the Sclavonic Jupiter, which was formerly celebrated on the day now set apart for the above saint. The form of this idol was almost identical with that of the classic deity, and, like the Olympian Jove, he held lightning in his hand and announced his will in thunders. His statue had a silver head, moustaches and ears of gold, and feet of iron. Before it a sacred fire was ever burning, which if the priests neglected they would have been put to death. The profane representations of the Godhead remarked in a preceding chapter seem to be merely that of Peroun; the only difference is, that in the former the figure holds a triangle in his hand instead of lightning. The heathenish rite mentioned in a preceding chapter, as being performed by the village women on Midsummer Eve, if it had not its origin in the worship of Baal, was probably derived from that of Koupalo, the god of the fruits of the earth, who was adored by the Slaves with a like ceremony. Perhaps indeed the Sclavonic races, in migrating from the East, brought with them the idols and traditions of their forefathers: in that case Koupalo and Baal may have been the same principle. I believe that the common people still call the rite by the name of Koupalnitza.

Many more instances could be cited, but the above will suffice to show that the remembrance of their Pagan creed still exists among the Russians.

When free access can be obtained to the various collections of ancient manuscripts that are preserved in the monasteries and cathedrals in Russia, much light will probably be thrown, not only on the belief of the Slaves, but on their social state, their laws and civilization, of which so little is at present known in Europe. A Russian gentleman assured me that he had seen and examined many of these collections, which he thought were well worthy of the notice of the learned.

There are not many readers of the ancient Muscovite history; indeed, I believe that few would deem the dry records of the Russian race very interesting, until the policy of Peter I. and Catherine II. forced the name of Russia upon the attention of Europe. It is a pity they have not been more generally studied, as perhaps they would have afforded a kind of key to the designs of the northern autocrats.

Probably nine out of every ten persons in England imagine that civilization was almost unknown to the Muscovites anterior to the reign of Peter the Great, and are not aware that the most powerful republic in Europe had for its capital the city of Novogorod; and that, until the ninth century of our era, its wealth and might caused it to be so respected among the neighbouring states, that the saying, “Who would dare to attack God and Novogorod the great?” is still a proverb in Russia. One would be apt to imagine that Peter’s object in building St. Petersburg was to extend and strengthen his frontiers, and to forward more effectually the designs of his predecessors; yet perhaps he committed the greatest error in endeavouring to turn aside the slowly but surely advancing course of Muscovite civilization (which, although more Asiatic than ours, would probably have been more solid than it now is, because gradually acquired), by forcibly and prematurely introducing that of another race upon his people, teaching ideas that they could not understand, and making changes that they could not comprehend. The civilization of England and France was not certainly owing to the swords of the Romans, for the inundations of the barbarians swept away almost every vestige of it: the work had to be begun afresh, because it was not based on a solid foundation. Peter I. made the Russians polished, but not civilized; the heart of the nation was not prepared for the change; they therefore made more progress in learning that which is evil than that which is good; they were infinitely more apt at acquiring the vices than the virtues of those set over them as teachers, and from being simple they became corrupted.

Perhaps it would not be an error to assert that, excepting the nobility about the court, many of whom are not of Russian descent at all, but derived from foreign parvenus, and some of the upper classes, the nation still regrets the innovation of western civilization, and, if they could have a free choice, they would rather return to the good old times when Moscow was the capital of their country. The old Russian party, whose strength is centred in that ancient capital, are daily becoming more powerful, and may indeed be destined to cause a reaction against the artificial refinement which has polished a certain portion at the expense of the community at large. Perhaps it is possible to dam up the waters of the Volga for a time, but they would inevitably break their bounds, and find the way to the sea at last through their own natural course.

The republic of Novogorod[33] must have existed for many ages, and had attained a considerable advance in commerce, and consequently civilization; for towards the middle of the ninth century we are told that it declined, and, being attacked by enemies from without, and weakened by dissensions within, the inhabitants, who could no longer defend themselves, were obliged to apply to Rurick, the chief of a race residing on the shores of the Baltic Sea, to become their general, and to assist them with his soldiers; and just as we see in our own history that Hengist, Horsa, and Cerdic established themselves as princes on the shores of Britain, so did Rurick, and his two brothers Sinaf and Trouvor, become the sovereigns of Novogorod and the immense territories belonging to the republic; thus laying the foundation of the Russian empire, A.D. 862.

Rurick died in 879, and left a son only four years of age.

The best historians say that the Slaves are not the same race as the Russians, but that the former assumed the name of their conquerors; the origin of both is so obscured by the mists of time, that the learned alone can decide upon the validity of their claims. According to Herbelot, who quotes the Tartar historian Aboulgasi BaÏadour, the Russians trace their descent through a long line of ancestors to Rouss, a son of Japhet, whilst the Slaves claim to be derived from Seklab, or Saklab, another son of the same remote progenitor.

I have heard the Russians frequently assert that they derived their name from the colour of their hair, which is of a peculiar yellow tint that I do not think is met with in other countries; indeed those of the true Russian race, in many of the villages, have hair of a light straw-colour.

Even so early as the ninth century, and probably long previous to that date, the Novogorodians had much commercial intercourse with the Greeks of Constantinople. We are told that in their voyages thither they descended the Dnieper; that on coming to rocks they lightened the weight of their ships, by discharging the cargoes, and carrying them on men’s shoulders along the shores; they re-embarked when the danger was passed. On reaching the mouth of the Dnieper, they waited for a fair wind, and then coasted along the western shores of the Black Sea, until they came to the Greek capital, which in their language was designated Tzargrad, or the City of the CÆsars. Oleg, the guardian of Rurick’s son, is said to have made a successful attack on Constantinople, and committed fearful ravages in its vicinity. Leo the Philosopher was then Emperor of the East, and, being too enervated to defend his capital by arms, he purchased the forbearance of the Russians by the payment of immense treasures and costly stuffs, the display of which on their return home struck their fellow-countrymen with astonishment. Perhaps that event was the origin of the restless longing and excessive desire of the Russian people to become the conquerors and possessors of Constantinople; for it is curious to remark how, ever since that time, they have, generation after generation, kept their eyes steadfastly fixed on the south, and have slowly advanced towards the attainment of their object. Treaties of peace and commerce are still, according to the historian, extant, which were made between some of the Greek emperors and the early princes of Novogorod.

Olga, who reigned as regent over the Russians from 945 to 955 A.D., was thought worthy of being canonized by the Russo-Greek Church because she went to Constantinople and became baptized as a Christian; but religion does not appear to have been the sole object of her journey: like a true Muscovite, she had other designs hidden under its cloak, for we are expressly told that commercial views as well as pious ones induced her to go to the Greek capital. Constantine stood as sponsor at her baptism. The revenge this princess took on the Drevlians, a people who dwelt near the lake of Ilmen, was certainly anything but saintlike. Olga’s husband, Igor, having invaded their country, was slain by them: the widow, after having caused the members of two embassies sent to her by their king to be murdered, would not be appeased unless she took still greater vengeance on the nation: to do so she dissimulated her hatred, spoke fairly to them, and expressed her willingness to forget what had passed, on condition that for every house in their town they should present her with three pigeons and three sparrows. The deceived Drevlians joyfully agreed to the terms; they brought the birds and then returned home; but Olga caused lighted matches to be attached to them, and then let them go; they naturally flew back to their nests, and thus set the city on fire. The inhabitants, in endeavouring to save themselves from the flames, were put to the sword. Yet before the portrait of this cruel and wicked woman the Russians of all classes bow and prostrate themselves to the earth, and beg her intercession for them at the throne of Heaven.

Alexander Nevski, the description of whose tomb has been given in these pages, reigned in Russia from about the year 1255 to 1264 A.D. The Russian Church has also thought proper to consider him as a saint, for no other quality, one would think, than that of his savage cruelty. His odious barbarities exercised on the inhabitants of Novogorod, after their struggle to resist their Tartar tyrants, must render his name hateful to any but to Russian ears. He cut off the noses of some, the ears of others; ordered their eyes to be pulled out, their feet and hands to be chopped off; and committed all the actions of cruelty and wickedness he could think of in respect to them. Yet this wretch is revered and adored as if he had been a true benefactor to the human race.

In noticing the Nevsky monastery I forgot to mention that it was founded by Peter the Great near the spot where he had vanquished the Swedes, and he caused his relics to be transported thither: the costly tomb was erected by the Empress Elizabeth.

Perhaps Peter saw in Alexander Nevsky’s conduct much resemblance to his own, and wished to increase his own power over his people by holding up to their adoration a Czar similar to himself in his actions.

Dmitri, surnamed by Russian historians “the False,” was, according to them, the Perkin Warbeck of Muscovite history. They affirm that his real name was Jachko (or in English James) Otrepief; that he was brought up in a monastery, and assumed the habit of a novice at the age of fourteen. He himself asserted that he was the son of Ivan the Terrible, or Cruel, and the legitimate heir to the crown. His history, which is perhaps the most interesting one in the Muscovite annals, is too long to be inserted here, but, after having obtained the protection of Sigismund and the Diet of Poland in 1603, he at last ascended the throne of Muscovy. There are many circumstances that would lead us to conclude that Dmitri V. was no impostor. Chuiski, his successor, aimed at the imperial crown, and, having murdered the Czar, it was to his interest, and to that of his successors, to proclaim that Dmitri was the false heir, lest he might have left one to inherit his title. Was it not also to the interest of Michael Romanof, the founder of the present dynasty, still to keep up the belief.

Michael Romanof, the ancestor of the present Czar, was the son of a Boyar, or Muscovite noble, named Phedor Nikititch. He was not a prince, or of Russian descent; but they say his forefather was a Prussian named Andrew, who emigrated to Russia towards the end of the fourteenth century. He was elected Czar in 1613.—Levesque, from a MS. on the imperial family.

Siberia was conquered by Yermak, an Ataman or Hetman of the Don Cossacks, between the years 1577 and 1580, and by him secured to the Czar Ivan IV. Yermak was drowned in the Vagai, one of the tributary streams of the Irtish, 1583.

The SamoÏdes, or Samoyedes, are a race of people inhabiting a wild marshy country in the extreme north of Siberia, its shores being washed by the Frozen Ocean. The word SamoÏde, SamoÏede, or SamoÏade, means a cannibal according to most authors, but it does not appear that they merit such an appellation: they pay a tribute of skins yearly to the Czar, but, like most of the nomads of Siberia, they govern themselves.

The custom mentioned in the fourteenth chapter regarding the offering of bread, &c., made to the Church after a funeral, is apparently derived from Shamanism, for it is also a rite performed by those who profess that religion, and also on the fortieth day. Shamanism is still professed by immense numbers of the nomads, although its doctrines are now much corrupted: it was formerly an universal belief, even so far west of the Ural mountains as Jaroslaf.

The Russian language is one of the richest and most beautiful in the world: it is soft and agreeable in sound, and has not the defect of the Italian in being too effeminate; it contains many words that express the same ideas. If ever a Sclavonic Milton or Shakspeare arise, he will find an inexhaustible treasure in his native tongue wherewith to express his thoughts, but at present there is scarcely any national literature, owing to the deadening influence of the government. The principal Russian authors are Poushkin the poet, Karamsin the historian, and Kriloff the writer of fables. In the alphabet there are thirty-six letters, of which a great number are vowels: many of them are purely Greek characters. A friend who understood the classic tongues assured me that a great similitude existed between Russ and Greek; the resemblance to Erse remarked by my Highland acquaintances has already been mentioned.

The words which appear to be spelled with so many consonants merely contain letters of which we have not the equivalent,—such as shtch, cz, tch, which are each expressed in Russian by a single character.

In the preceding pages, whenever Russian words occur, the true orthography has not been given, but they are written according to the sound as nearly as possible.