Fred Markham in Russia Part 10

Those who could afford it eagerly bought the book of glad tidings; those who could not clubbed their money together and became the joyful purchasers of a copy. How the book came, no one could tell. Some said that a stranger from another land brought many volumes of the book with him in a large chest, and that he travelled about from village to village, instructing certain men in each village, and making them desire to possess the book. Though such might have been the case, I never saw the stranger. All I know is, that a certain very pious man in our village had several copies of the book which he had bought at a great cost, though not too great for its value, oh no! And that he sold them without profit to all who would buy--rather, I would say, at a loss, for to some who could not pay the full cost he remitted part of the amount.

When we got the book we lost no time in reading it. In the fields in summer, under the shade of trees, we sat and read it, where no one could watch us; in our huts, by torch-light in winter, we eagerly studied the book. We knew that we had got the word of G.o.d, that we possessed a jewel of rich price; we were afraid that thieves might come and steal it from us. We read and read on; most eagerly we met together to talk about it, to discuss the meaning of parts which we could not at first understand, to pray that our minds might be enlightened to comprehend it. We read it, as the book itself tells us to do, with earnest prayer; we read it with faith, and we read it not in vain. Soon pa.s.sages which seemed at first obscure were made clear to our comprehension. Every day we understood it better and better. We had no one to whom to go for information. We had no one to instruct us, so we went to G.o.d; we asked Him to show us the truth, as He in the book told us to do, and His promises never fail. He instructed our minds; He gave us all we asked for. We now discovered, truly, how darkened had been our minds, how ignorant we had been, what follies, what fables, what falsehoods we had believed. We saw the gross, the terrible, the wicked errors of the Church of our country. We found that those who should have instructed us were generally as ignorant as we had been, and that if not ignorant, they had taught us falsehoods, knowing them to be falsehoods. We found in that book how the world was made; how man was first placed in the world; how he, by disobedience to G.o.d's simple command, fell from his happy state, and how sin thus entered into the world, and all men became by nature sinful; how G.o.d in His mercy promised a Redeemer who should bear upon His own shoulders the sin of all the children of Adam who believe in Him; how G.o.d selected a people to keep His great name, and to make it known among men; how He promised to the patriarchs of old, from age to age, that the Redeemer of the world should be one of their chosen tribe, and that the glad tidings of salvation should first be offered to them; how, in process of time, the Son of G.o.d, the Saviour of the world, from His unbounded love to the human race, appeared in the form of a man, and in humble rank, to teach us that He regards not the persons of men; how He was despised and rejected of men; how He suffered toil, and sorrow, and persecution, though He spent His days on earth in doing good to all around Him, to show the humble, and poor, and afflicted that He can feel for them; how He was rejected by G.o.d's chosen people; how they crucified Him, and invoked a curse on their own heads by taking on themselves all the terrible guilt of the deed; how He died and was buried; how thus He offered Himself a sacrifice for our sins; how He remained for three days in the vale of departed spirits; how in His own body He rose again to teach men the doctrine of the resurrection; how, having fulfilled all the work of the sacrifice, He ascended into heaven, and how He there acts as a mediator between G.o.d and man; how, too, in His abundant mercy, He sent down the Holy Ghost to lead men aright, to teach them the truth. That book tells us nothing of the Virgin Mary, except that she was the earthly mother of our Lord. It tells us nothing of the mediation of saints, but it tells us that G.o.d accepts but one great sacrifice, that offered by our Lord Jesus Christ; that He is our only Priest, our only Mediator in heaven; that those who heartily repent of their sins, who put their faith in Him, and Him alone, will be saved.

"We find nothing said in the Bible of a Patriarch, or any other head of the Church on earth. The only Patriarch, therefore, we can acknowledge, the only Head of our Church, is Christ in heaven. Yet the Bible has taught us to bow to the authority of earthly powers in all temporal matters, but in spiritual matters to yield to the authority of no one unless it is plainly and undoubtedly in accordance with the word of G.o.d revealed in that book. Putting aside all the customs of the country, which seemed to us so overloaded with error and abuse that we could not distinguish the right from the wrong, we have endeavoured to form a system of wors.h.i.+p and mutual instruction as nearly similar as possible to that inst.i.tuted by our Lord Himself and His disciples. We knew that we could not preach our doctrines in public without bringing down on our heads a severe punishment from the authorities of the Empire; but they, nevertheless, made certain though slow progress. No sooner did one receive the truth than he became anxious to impart it to others. All this time, who, think you, had joined our faith?--none but serfs, peasants, humble mujicks. But this did not cast us down, for we asked ourselves. Who were the first disciples of our Lord?--fishermen, humble men like ourselves. Because our faith was different to that of the great and mighty in the land, it did not make us less certain that it was the true one, or less anxious to impart it to others, to offer our brethren the same a.s.surance of pardon and salvation which we had ourselves received. Hitherto the progress of our creed had received no interruption from the Government authorities. We had worked silently and quietly; even the priests knew nothing of the movement going on. We were well a.s.sured that, should they discover it, they would oppose us with all their power. We were, therefore, allowed to continue on without persecution. By degrees, however, our doctrines began to make progress among persons of a higher grade. An earnest, piously-minded land-steward had a Bible lent him by a peasant; he expressed his satisfaction at reading it, and was at last invited to attend one of our meetings. He came, and his heart was turned to the right way. For many months he wors.h.i.+pped with us, and at length the owner of the estate he managed came to live on his property. He was an officer in the army, who had seen much service in the Caucasus fighting against the Circa.s.sians. He had the character of being a brave and a stern man in the army. His serfs always found him a kind though a strict master--not indulgent, but just. To his master the steward was induced, after some time, to open the secret of his heart, and he at length persuaded him to study the Bible. The master read and read on. He became convinced of the errors of the Greek Church, and joined our fraternity. Truly as a brother, humble and lowly in his own sight, he moved among us.

"The truth had now spread widely; many thousands believed and wors.h.i.+pped with us, and we began to hope that the pure doctrines of Christianity might extend over the face of our beloved country. Alas! We deceived ourselves. We forgot that times of persecution, trial, and suffering must ever be looked for by G.o.d's saints on earth.

"At length, as was to be expected, some of the Government officials got notice of our meetings. One night a congregation of us were a.s.sembled for prayer and instruction in the word in a rude hut constructed by us far away in the depths of a forest,--the only temple we dared raise to our G.o.d,--when we were startled by hearing the trampling of steeds and the cras.h.i.+ng of boughs. Before we could rise from our knees, a party of police, headed by a priest and two of the neighbouring landowners, rushed in upon us. Some attempted to fly, others stood boldly up to confront our persecutors; but neither would it have been right or wise, or of any avail, to have used carnal weapons for our defence. Those who thus stood firm felt bolder than they had ever done before. We demanded why we were thus a.s.sailed and interrupted in our private devotions. We a.s.serted our right to meet for prayer to G.o.d and to our Lord, and demanded that we might be left to finish our devotions undisturbed. In return we were jeered and ridiculed, and roughly ordered to marshal ourselves and hurry on before our captors. They told us that we should be tried before a proper tribunal; that there could be no doubt we had met together for political and treasonable purposes; that also we were schismatics and heretics, and that we had merited the severest punishment. We had no help for it, so, praying to G.o.d for help and support in this our first hour of peril, we did as we were ordered. How we had been discovered we could not learn. We feared that some one among our own body had proved false, but we trusted that such was not the case. Our meetings had probably attracted the attention of some priest more acute than his brethren, and he had subtly made inquiries till he had discovered the truth. It was a sad procession as we marched forth from our woodland temple, but yet we were not cast down; we trusted in G.o.d that He would deliver us. He did not even then forget us. We had marched a verst or more when thick clouds began to gather in the sky, and loud rumblings were heard. Soon the tempest burst over the forest, louder and louder grew the thunder, flash upon flash of lightning darted from the heavens; first heavy drops, and then torrents of rain came down upon our heads; the trees bent, trunks were riven by the lightning, boughs were torn from the stems and dashed across our path. The steeds of our captors began to snort and rear and show every sign of terror. Crash succeeded crash--more vivid grew the lightning; it played round the tall stems of the trees, it ran hissing like serpents of fire along the ground, it almost blinded us by its brightness. At last the horses could no longer stand it; their riders, too, were alarmed. Some of the horses wheeled one way, some another, and all set off galloping furiously through the wood in different directions. In vain the priest and the lords called to us to keep together, and to meet them at the town; in vain their servants and their other attendants endeavoured to keep us together. Feeling that the tempest was sent for our deliverance, with a prayer for each other's safety we likewise dispersed in all directions, to seek places of shelter and concealment from our enemies. The large forests, the thin population, the rocks and caves of that region afforded us abundance of facilities for this object. Many of us reached such places of safety as I have described and the freemen were able to remain concealed, but the serfs were hunted up like wild beasts and brought back to their owners.

Many were put to the torture, to make them betray those who had a.s.sumed what was called the new faith. Day after day some of our members were seized. The freemen were cast into prison and put to the torture, to compel them to deny their faith or to accuse others of following it.

Our beloved brother, Captain Martineff, had hitherto escaped, but now he was accused of professing the new doctrines. He was seized and brought up before the officers of a commission appointed to try all such delinquents. He, who had ever proved a faithful soldier to his generals and the Emperor, was not now to be found false to his faith and his heavenly Lord and Master. He at once boldly confessed that he had taken the Bible as his rule and guide, that by that he would stand or fall; and he demanded that he might have the right of explaining and defending his doctrines in public court. This liberty was scornfully denied him.

He was condemned for being guilty of desiring to subvert the Government and religion of the country, and thrown into prison. He would at once have been transported to Siberia, but the Government hoped by keeping him to discover others who held the same tenets. They little knew how far the true faith had spread, that thousands already held it, and that no power of theirs could extinguish the light thus kindled. They dreamed not also of the fort.i.tude and courage of which a true Christian is capable. Captain Martineff would neither betray others nor deny his own faith. It was determined to break his proud spirit, as it was called, and now commenced a system of the most cruel persecution against him. His property was confiscated, his wife and children were seized and cast into dungeons separate from each other. They were fed on black bread and water. One by one they were brought to him and cruelly flogged before his eyes. He saw them growing thinner and thinner every day, the colour fading from their cheeks, the hue of sickness taking its place. He knew they were sinking into the grave--murdered by his persecutors. Still he would not deny his faith or perform ceremonies which he knew to be superst.i.tious and idolatrous. With a refinement of cruelty worthy of demons, they told him that one child was dead. 'It is well,' he replied; 'of such is the kingdom of heaven.' A second died, a bright little cherub; it had been the joy of his life. 'G.o.d be praised!

He is in Abraham's bosom,' he answered. Soon a third sank under his treatment. 'You have released him from prison to praise G.o.d with the angels in heaven!' he remarked.

"His wife, a believer with him, mild, pious, and good, became a victim to their barbarity. They told him abruptly, to shock his feelings the more. A serene smile illuminated his countenance, 'She has entered into her rest, where neither grief, nor pain, nor sickness can come. She is with the spirits of the just made perfect.'

"Still he had more children. It was known how he had loved them. One after the other died, till one alone remained. They brought it to him.

They told him that if he would conform to the rules of the Established Church he should be released from prison, his property should be restored, and that this child--this darling child--should be sent to a place where fresh, pure air and the care of a good physician would quickly restore it to health. 'Life and death are in the hands of the Almighty; to Him I commit the life of my child. I have but in faith humbly to obey His laws, and to follow the course He has marked out for me.'

"One, two, three, four years pa.s.sed away, and he and his child remained in prison. The little boy grew thin and pale, and pined and pined away.

They took him occasionally to be seen by his father--not to bring any joy to that father's heart, but to tempt his constancy. The attempt availed them not. The child died; the father shed not a tear, uttered not a complaint, but remained firm as ever to the faith. Another year he was kept in prison, and then stripped of his property. He was dismissed from prison, and a certain locality fixed for his abode. Why he was not sent to Siberia was not known. It was the will of the Emperor, it was supposed, who had heard his story.

"While I have been narrating Captain Martineff's history, I have neglected to speak of the condition of the poorer brethren. Numbers were seized, knouted, and sent off to labour in the mines of Siberia.

They little thought that by that means they were taking the surest way of propagating the truth. Others were thrown into prison, and subjected daily to cruel tortures to force them to recant.

"A few unhappy men were overcome by the pains and terror, and returned to the Greek faith, but the greater number held firm. I remained in concealment, and it was supposed that I had died; but I had relatives and friends who were wealthy for our rank of life, and gave me support.

All my family were free, yet in position we were not much above the poor mujick. I used after a time to venture out of my hiding-place and meet our brethren for prayer and praise; but it was at great hazard, and oftentimes I had a narrow escape of being captured. At length, after we had suffered years of persecution, a time of rest was awarded us, and we fancied that we were to be allowed to wors.h.i.+p our G.o.d as we judged best.

Still I dared not be seen in public, for I had refused to appear when summoned, and I was looked upon as a political as well as a religious offender.

"The mercy we were promised was but little mercy to us. We were to be removed from the land of our birth, from our once happy homes, and to be settled down, many hundred versts away, in a district between some German colonies and Tartary. It was believed that our tenets would not spread among the people by whom we were surrounded. Many hundreds of families were thus turned out of their homes and compelled to settle in this new region. The choice was given them of renouncing their faith or going. Few hesitated. I at length came forth from my hiding-place and joined my companions. We set to work a.s.siduously to bring under cultivation the wild country in which we were placed, and G.o.d prospered our labours.

"Among the few of higher rank who belonged to us, Captain Martineff was sent here. Sickness and long confinement had turned his hair prematurely grey, and he looked an old man. He built himself a small hut with a single chamber in it, and here he took up his abode, while he used to labour with his own hands for his sustenance. His fellow-villagers were all poor enough, but we all sought to a.s.sist him and to take him food--without it, I believe at times that he would have starved. He received our gifts thankfully, but never would take them unless when he was absolutely in want of food. He had been much respected when he was in the army, and the Emperor himself desired much to bring him back to the world. More than one priest had come to effect this object. At length the Emperor sent a general who was celebrated for his great powers of argument. He arrived at our village in great state, but set out alone on foot to pay his visit. The humble captain had been apprised of his coming; he sat at his little round table, made by his own hands, with his only spare seat placed ready for his guest.

His Bible lay open before him. The General struck his head against the doorway as he entered. 'We have need of humility when we approach the word of G.o.d,' observed his host with a gentle smile.

"The General spoke kindly and affectionately to the old man. They had been comrades, brothers-in-arms together. For months they had slept in the same tent, and eaten out of the same dish. For a short time they conversed of old times.

"'But you came to talk to me of matters of more importance, my General,'

said the Captain, laying his hand on the Bible. 'Out of this book I will reply to you. Of my own words I need speak none.'

"The General then commenced a series of arguments, which he had thought incontrovertible. As each was brought forward, the Captain turned to his Bible, and produced a text, which with its context clearly refuted it. Text after text was brought forward. At first the General had been very confident of success; by degrees his confidence decreased, but the Captain retained the same composure as at the first.

"'You have a great knowledge of the book, my friend,' said the General.

"'I should have,' answered the Captain humbly; 'I study no other; for where can another of equal value be found? This shows us the way of eternal life.'

"'Ah, you speak the truth, my old comrade,' exclaimed the General, rising. 'I came certain of succeeding to convert you to my way of belief, but I own that you have conquered. You have converted me to yours.'

"These were the General's last words. He rose to take his departure.

He grasped his old comrade's hand, and went out. Alas! Alas! His reason was convinced, but his heart was unchanged. His own words had condemned him. He went back to the world to laste of its allurements and false pleasure, its t.i.tles, its wealth, its evanescent honours. He undoubtedly reported favourably of his friend, and obtained for him immunity from further persecution; but for himself he sought not the Lord where alone He can be found. He continued his old habits of life, seeking the praise of men rather than the praise of G.o.d."

CHAPTER TWELVE.

Steffanoff Saveleff's Early History--Resolves to visit his Parents and his Betrothed--Commences his Journey--Meets Woodcutters--Takes Shelter in the Hut of old Sidor--Attacked by Fever--Compelled to fly--Pursued by Enemies--Concealed in a Cave.

"All this time I have been telling you about my people, but I have said nothing about myself," continued the stranger. "When my people were ordered to take up their abode in the new districts appointed for them, I left my hiding-place, resolved to share their fortunes. I remained unmolested at the new settlement for some months, labouring hard to prepare a home for my aged parents, who I trusted might be allowed to join me. With them dwelt a young orphan; she had grown up under their roof from infancy to womanhood, and was betrothed to me. During the days of persecution, I could not venture to wed her; but now that they were over, and I had the prospect of being able to prepare a home fit for her reception, I hoped to make her my wife. A peasant can love as well as a n.o.ble.--I could not leave the settlement, that is, openly, without permission from the mayor, the chief man of the village. In vain I asked for it. I told him my object; still he would not listen to me. I determined, therefore, to leave the place without his permission.

As soon as darkness set in, one night, amid a storm of wind and rain, I started on my journey. The police, or anybody who would stop me, were not likely to be out at such a time. I hurried on all night, and in the daytime climbed up into a tree far away in the depths of a forest, where it was not probable any one would discover me. I carried a wallet well stored with food; I wished to make it last me as many days as possible, as my great fear was of being captured should I enter any village to buy bread. I had sc.r.a.ped together all the money I could collect, so that I was well provided with the means of purchasing provisions when I could venture to do so. Night after night I toiled on, sustained with the hope that success would crown my efforts. I feared neither bears nor wolves; they seldom in the summer season attack people, and I had often contended with them. In winter the wolves are most to be dreaded; and often travellers, even in sledges, have fallen victims to them. On foot a person overtaken by a flock of them would not have a chance of escaping with his life, unless he could climb a tree or a rock out of their way. I dreaded famine more than anything else. Had I been able to buy food wherever I could find it, I might have carried enough to enable me to get on from one farm or one village to another without difficulty, but, as this I was afraid to do, I was obliged to husband my provisions. I found in the woods an abundance of wild fruit, such as strawberries and raspberries, which grow plentifully in the woods; also of many roots, with the nature of which I was well acquainted. Besides roots, there were many varieties of mushrooms, and I had a small pan with me in which I could cook them.

"It was a wild sort of life I was leading. Sometimes for days together I did not speak a word to a fellow-creature. Now and then I fell in with woodcutters, but they were poor men who knew how to commiserate those in distress, and seldom asked me questions. The greatest a.s.sistance I received was from men of my own faith. Our tenets have spread far and wide throughout the whole of the south of Russia, and I had no difficulty in discovering those who held them. I at first had little hopes of meeting with any friends, but He who governs by His will the mighty universe, and without whose knowledge not a sparrow falls to the ground, directed me to one. I one day had just climbed a tree after my night-march, and was commending myself to my Maker before going to sleep, when, as I looked once more around me, I saw coming through the wood an old man and a young lad. By their dress, and the hatchets in their belts, I knew that they were woodcutters. I thought, perhaps, that they might cut down the very tree I had climbed into; however, they went on a little way, and then, throwing aside their axes at the foot of a tree, they knelt down together and offered up their morning prayers.

Then they sang a hymn, which our brethren often use when met together for wors.h.i.+p. The sounds cheered my heart; I knew at once that they were friends. I quickly descended the tree, and went up to them. At first they were afraid, thinking that I was a spy upon their actions, but a few words rea.s.sured them. I told them at once my story, for I knew that I was in safe hands. They promised to a.s.sist me as far as they had the power. I by this time much wanted help. My provisions were well-nigh exhausted, my feet sore, and my boots worn out. I required a day's rest, and here was an opportunity of enjoying it. The lad, who was the old man's grandson, undertook to get my boots mended by a brother, who would ask no questions concerning me, and would gladly do it for charity's sake. The old man promised to bring me next morning an ample supply of provisions, and, in the mean time, insisted on my taking rest while he and his boy watched near me. For this purpose they lopped off a number of branches from the surrounding trees, and formed an arbour.

They then strewed the inside of it thickly with dry leaves, so as to form a more comfortable couch than I had enjoyed for many a day. I crept in, and was soon asleep. I had no fears, for I knew that the woodcutters were Christian men, and that nothing would induce them to betray me.

"They aroused me at noon to partake of their meal, which consisted but of black bread and fish taken from the neighbouring river. The fish, however, reminded me that, if I could but provide myself with a rod and tackle, I might frequently provide myself with food. I mentioned my idea to my new friends, and they promised to procure me what I wanted.

I was always a good fisherman, and knew how to catch every sort of fish.

I was surprised that I had not thought of this before starting from home.

"After dinner I again went to sleep, and rested soundly till the evening. I awoke up, and the old man came and sat down by me, giving me some more food. While we sat and ate we conversed earnestly of religious matters. The lad had gone away with my boots to the village, which was three versts off. He did more even than he promised, for soon after dark he returned with them thoroughly repaired.

"'Our brother knew the importance of having them ready, in case you might be compelled to move away suddenly, so he lost no time in mending them,' said the young lad as he gave them to me.

"Blessings on his head! He gave me also some provisions; but he did more than this, he brought out with him a Bible. It was not his own--he had borrowed it. By the light of a fir-torch, as we sat in the entrance of my bower, he read many chapters from its sacred pages. It was late before the old man and his grandson left me, promising to return early the next morning. They told me that I might securely rest there till then, sheltered by the bower. They brought some water and washed my feet, and anointed them with some salve, which the lad, most thoughtful for his years, had procured for the purpose. I had been too much accustomed to sleep out at night during my long years of hiding from persecution to have any fears after the a.s.surance the woodcutters had given me, so, commending myself to my Maker, I quickly fell asleep.

"I was awoke by feeling a hand placed on my shoulder. I started up, believing that a police-officer was about to seize me. I had lived for some time in hourly expectation of being captured, and I could not throw off the feeling. I felt, notwithstanding, that to allow it to weigh on my mind was a sin, as it arose from want of faith and trust in G.o.d's providence. I looked up, and beheld the honest countenance of the young woodcutter.

"'You sleep soundly, father,' said he with a smile. 'Few but those who have good consciences can thus repose, I have heard. Well, father, I have brought you as much food as you can carry, and enough to last you for many days. Eat, and then we will set off. I am to go with you some of the way; my grandfather will meet us on the road. He wishes to say farewell to you. It is all settled, so say not a word on the matter.'

"I willingly agreed to the young lad's proposal. I was too thankful to have a guide and companion for part of my dreary journey to desire to refuse his offer. Young Khor (that was the lad's name) insisted on carrying my wallet, so I walked lightly along, with a cheerful heart.

Thus I found, when most in distress, Providence had sent me aid. After walking about two versts through the wood, we saw the old man coming towards us.

"He embraced me warmly. 'Heaven protect you, my son,' he said; 'all the brethren here will earnestly pray for you: may you escape our persecutors wherever you go, and may friends be raised up for you whenever you require them.' I thanked him warmly. 'Khor will go with you--Khor will guide you till you arrive at the abode of brother Sidor.

It is but three days' journey from hence. Khor will then easily find his way back, and Sidor will then guide you on your way farther;-- farewell.' With these words we parted. Young Khor was a pleasant, cheerful companion, and as he knew the country well, he led me by far more direct roads than I could have found myself. It was truly an agreeable change for me to have Khor with me. Instead of being left to my own thoughts, I had pleasant conversation. He, too, had brought a Testament with him, although he had not the whole Bible, and whenever we sat down to rest he pulled it out and read to me, or I read to him. We were now also able to travel by day instead of by night, as he was able to conduct me by byways where we were not likely to meet any one to interrupt us. At length we reached the abode of brother Sidor. He was a grey-headed old man, and from sad experience had learned caution. We knocked three times at his door before he opened it. When he had done so he did not speak, but stood in the porch, examining us from head to foot. This scrutiny was apparently satisfactory. 'Come in and sit down,' said he, at the same time placing fish, and bread, and cheese, and milk before us. 'There, eat; when you have satisfied your hunger, I will hear what you wish to tell me.' We gladly did as he desired, and when we had satisfied our hunger, I frankly told him all my history, and the object of my journey. 'Ah, my son! I knew your father, Loutich Saveleff, very well, in my youth. We were fellow-servants together at Petersburg, in the establishment of Count Paul Illarionovitch. He kept up a great state, and gave great parties, and made us wear magnificent liveries, and we thought ourselves very fine fellows. When he died we could not procure other situations, and as we had saved nothing and could not pay our masters the tax, we were compelled to return to our native villages and to resume our labours in the field. This at first we thought very hard work, and grumbled at it exceedingly, but we could not help ourselves, and what at first we fancied a curse proved a blessing in the end. By that means the blessed light of gospel truth was made to s.h.i.+ne on us. Your father was the first to receive it, and having procured two Bibles he sent me one of them, as the richest gift he could bestow. At first I valued it only as a gift from him, for I loved him much; and that he knew, or he would not have ventured to send it to me. I, however, began to read, and as I read on I learned to value it for itself, and would not now change it for all the wealth of the Czar. What, I often ask myself, would the world be without it?

What can for a moment be compared to it? How dark, how gloomy would our life appear! How unjust, how unmerciful the Creator of the universe!

No guide for the present; no certainty, no hope for the future. It teaches us all we should wish for, all we should desire to know; how to walk in this present life, how to bear affliction, what to expect in the future.' Much more to the same effect the old man said. I loved the word of G.o.d, I had suffered much for its sake, but he opened my mind to many things; he showed more clearly to me its exceeding brilliancy.

Thus Christian men always gain advantage by holding converse with each other about the volume on which their creed is founded. Oh! miserable, miserable men who have not that foundation! I spent a whole day under Sidor's roof. Young Khor rested there too. He then set off with a light step to return home; he had no fears. In the solitude of the forest, on the vast steppe at midnight or noonday, he was sustained by a belief that One who could humble Himself to become man, and who so loved mankind that He could suffer death for their sakes, was ever watching over him. This knowledge had taught him to discredit all the foolish superst.i.tions of our country. The _Domvoi_ (the familiar spirit of the house, similar to the Brownie of Scotland) had no terrors for him; neither had the _Roussalka_ (the wood fairy), nor the _Leechie_ (the demon of the forest). He knew that there was no such being as the _Trichka_, who, it is supposed, will one day visit the country and commit incalculable mischief, nor any such thing as a _Vodainoi_, or water spirit; in truth, he felt sure that G.o.d would allow only one evil being to infest the earth, and that merely to try mankind, and the better to fit them for the time when he and his angels shall be chained for ever and ever. I was truly sorry to part from Khor, though my new friend Sidor was a man I was heartily glad to meet. He had seen much of the world: he had been in France and in England, and he told me that he much liked the English. At the time he was there he said he did not know the reason of this liking, but since then he had discovered that it arose from the national religion, so free from bigotry, superst.i.tion, and priestcraft, faults which have completely destroyed all purity in the national religion of Russia.

"But I must not stop to describe the conversations I held with old Sidor. He pressed me to spend some days with him to recruit my strength thoroughly before I should recommence my journey. I was glad of a little delay; at the same time I warned him that, should it be discovered that a stranger was at his cottage without a pa.s.s, he might be subject to severe penalties.

"'We never calculate the risk when a brother requires our help,' he replied, taking my arm. 'He who went about doing good, and died for our sakes, taught us that lesson, with many others, which we are too apt to forget. Say, therefore, no more about it, my son, but lay thee down and rest till thy strength has returned, and thou canst prosecute thy journey with renewed hope and confidence.'

"I could not resist old Sidor's pressing, and, with a satisfaction I can scarcely describe, I threw myself on his bed, and in an instant was asleep. My sleep, however, was feverish and troubled. I had felt ill before I reached his cottage, and now, when I awoke, I found a raging fever on me. How long I had slept I know not. Old Sidor was by my side. There he sat, day after day, and night after night, tending me with as much care as a father would an only son. Several weeks I thus lay, hovering between life and death. Oftentimes my old friend told me that he was inclined to summon a leech to see me, but, if he did so, he was afraid that I might be betrayed, and delivered into the hands of our enemies. He besought, therefore, with much earnestness and prayer, the great Physician of our souls, that He would, in His abundant mercy, heal me. Surely such prayers are not in vain. In a short time the fever left me, and my strength rapidly returned. I had been out of the hut more than once to ramble through the woods, but was yet, I fancied, unfit to prosecute my journey. I lay on the bed while Sidor sat by my side reading that book which was seldom out of our hands--the Book of Life, when we saw through the open doorway his little grandson running in haste towards the hut. He entered too much out of breath to speak; in his hand he bore a feather, which he held out towards me. I took it in my hand; it was from the wing of a bird. I guessed in a moment what it betokened--so did Sidor.

"'Our foes have discovered your retreat, and this is sent by a brother to bid you flee.'

"The boy nodded, and waved his hand hurriedly towards the door. I threw my arms for a moment on the neck of my old friend.

"'Keep straight on the way I showed you yesterday, till you come to a tree scathed and blasted by lightning. To the right of it is a thicket; on the farther side, midway down it, you will find some dried brambles; remove them, and you will perceive a narrow pa.s.sage. Half-way down it the ground beneath your feet will sound hollow. On your right hand, by bending aside the boughs, you will discover a further pile of brambles, which appear to have been thrown there by chance. Draw them aside, and there will be found a cavity; enter without hesitation, drawing the brambles over your head. You will find there provisions for several days, and a couch on which to rest your yet unpractised limbs. Many a fugitive brother has there found shelter for weeks together. Farewell, my son; Heaven guard you; you have not a moment to lose.'

"These words he uttered as rapidly as possible, yet it was necessary to be precise, to enable me to find the spot capable of concealing me.

Again embracing him, I darted from the hut in the direction he indicated as fast as my legs, long unaccustomed to rapid movement, would carry me.

Once I looked back on hearing a shout; I could just distinguish between the trees several men, some on horseback, approaching the hut. For an instant I gave myself up for lost, yet I continued my flight. I found soon that I was not followed, then I trembled for the fate of my old friend. If he is accused of having harboured a fugitive like me, and cannot give an account of me, the knout and Siberia will be his fate. I felt inclined to turn back, but then I remembered that I should only the more certainly bring ruin on him, by proving him guilty of the crime.