[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and
italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
THE CHAUTAUQUAN
A MONTHLY MAGAZINE DEVOTED TO THE PROMOTION OF TRUE CULTURE.
ORGAN OF THE CHAUTAUQUA LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC CIRCLE.
VOLUME III.
FROM OCTOBER, 1882, TO JULY, 1883.
THEODORE L. FLOOD, D. D., Editor.
THE CHAUTAUQUA PRESS,
Meadville, PA.
COPYRIGHTED BY THEODORE L. FLOOD, IN THE OFFICE OF THE LIBRARIAN OF
CONGRESS, WASHINGTON, D. C., 1883.
INDEX TO VOLUME III.
AGASSIZ AT PENIKESE, With. Prof. J. Tingley, Ph.D. 533.
AIR, The Worth of Fresh. 386, 449.
AMUSEMENTS—LAWN TENNIS. Robert Macgregor. 441.
ANNOUNCEMENT FOR 1882-3, C. L. S. C. 113, 172.
ANSWERS. To Questions for Further Study. A. M. Martin. 288, 355.
ARIZONA. Rev. Sheldon Jackson, D.D. 255.
ART AND ARTISTS, Some German. 259.
ASSEMBLY OF 1882, California. 46.
ASSEMBLY, Pacific Coast C. L. S. C. 597.
ASTROLOGY—THE ROMANCE OF ASTRONOMY. R. K. Miller, M.A. 441.
ASTRONOMY, Discrepancies in. Bishop Warren. 458.
ASTRONOMY. Lecture by Bishop Warren. 596.
ATTEMPTS TO FLY IN THE AIR. From the French of F. Marion. 96.
BIBLE AND NATURE, The. Rev. J. B. Thomas, D.D. 573.
BOOK NOTICES. 177, 302, 486, 608.
BORROWING AND LENDING, Morals and Sorrows of. A. Denbar. 151.
BY-WAYS, In Some Medical. Andrew Wilson, F. R. S. E. 537.
CHANGE IN WORDS, CONSTANT. John Peile, M.A. 586.
CHAUTAUQUA EMERGING FROM WINTER. Rev. Victor Cornelle. 413.
CHAUTAUQUA RIPPLES. 538.
CIRCLES, LOCAL. 104, 163, 225, 282, 347, 403, 459, 525, 592.
CIRCLES, How to Conduct Local. Dr. J. H. Vincent. 289.
C. L. S. C., The. Miss Myrtie Hudson. 44.
C. L. S. C., Pacific Branch. 523.
C. L. S. C. WORK. 42, 102, 161, 222, 280, 345, 401, 457, 522, 590.
CLOTHING, The Advantage of Warm. 264, 332.
COMMENCEMENT OF 1882, C. L. S. C. 18.
COMET THAT CAME BUT ONCE, The. E. W. Maunder, F.R.A.S. 319.
COMETS. Richard A. Proctor. 142.
COMING CHAUTAUQUA DAYS. 600.
CONVERSATION, The Art of. 514.
CONJURORS. Thomas Frost. 518.
DEFECTS IN OUR AMERICAN HOMES. A Conference at Chautauqua. 399.
DISCOVERY OF AMERICA, Results of the. John Lord, LL.D. 562.
DISTRIBUTION OF ANIMALS, Geographical. Alfred Newton. 588.
DREAM, AND PRACTICAL LIFE, A. 207.
DRIVING. 193.
DRINK, The Influence of Wholesome. 519, 577.
DUTIES IN THE FAMILY, Social. Frances Power Cobbe. 342.
EDITOR’S OUTLOOK:
Art, The Study of. 416.
Assembly, The Chautauqua. 56.
Assembly, The Decennial. 294.
Chautauquan, The. 540.
C. L. S. C. as a Substitute for the College, The. 415.
C. L. S. C. as a Substitute for the Public Library, The. 359.
C. L. S. C. on the Pacific Coast. 476.
C. L. S. C. in Troy, N. Y. 114.
C. L. S. C. as an Educational Force, The. 293.
C. L. S. C. Literature. 173.
Co-Education. 235.
Commencement, the C. L. S. C. 56.
Coronation of the Czar, The. 604.
Course of Study for 1883-84, The C. L. S. C. 540.
Doré, Gustave. 360.
Draper, Professor Henry. 234.
Dr. Grimshawe’s Secret. 359.
Education, Our National. 234.
England’s Troubles in Ireland and Egypt. 115.
English-Irish Troubles, The. 540.
Gambetta. 293.
Historical Studies in the C. L. S. C. 114.
Irving, Washington. 416.
Lectureship, The Joseph Cook. 360.
Literature, The C. L. S. C. 173.
Natural Method in Language at Chautauqua, The. 173.
Passion Play, The. 293.
Penn and his Policy, William. 173.
Prohibition. 114.
Prohibition in Politics. 541.
Problem, The Educational. 478.
Religion, Prospect for a Revival of Spiritual. 173.
Roeblings, The. 604.
Schools, The Common. 57.
Social Life in the C. L. S. C. 603.
Stewart’s Madame de Staël. 477.
Temperance Question, The. 56.
Ten Years at Chautauqua. 603.
Trial by Jury. 476.
Wagner. 415.
Warren, Amos K. 605.
Weed, Thurlow. 235.
EDITOR’S NOTE-BOOK. 58, 115, 174, 236, 295, 361, 417, 479, 541, 605.
EDITOR’S TABLE. 117, 176, 238, 297, 363, 419, 481, 543, 607.
EDUCATION, The History and Philosophy of. Prof. W. T. Harris. 28, 79,
194, 262, 336, 446, 567.
EGYPT AND ENGLAND. Sheldon Amos. 33.
EGYPT FOR THE EGYPTIANS. Judge G. M. Barber. 562.
ENGLISH HISTORY, Pictures From. C. E. Bishop. 15, 66, 124, 184, 246,
309, 371, 432, 494.
ETCHING. 509.
EVIDENCE OF THE NECESSITY OF A REVEALED RELIGION, An Unnoted. Rev.
R. H. Howard, M. A. 412.
EXAMINATION, Report of Chautauqua Normal. 177.
FASHION, Anecdotes of. I. D’Israeli. 323.
FASHIONS, Changes in. From the French of M. Augustin Challamel. 446.
FASHIONS, How to Regulate the. From the French of M. Augustin
Challamel. 556.
FLORIDA, A Tropical River in. S. J. M. Eaton, D.D. 576.
FOOD, The Value of Good. 202.
FORCES, The Co-Related. 257.
FRENCH CIRCLE, The Prospectus of the. 475.
FRENCH, The Study of. Prof. A. Lalande. 111, 358.
GENIUS, What is. James Kerr, M. A. 254.
GEOLOGY, How to Teach. Colonel Daniels. 231.
GEOLOGY, Readings in. J. W. Dawson. 43.
GEOLOGY, Readings in. Edward Hitchcock, D.D., LL.D. 68.
GERMAN CIRCLES, Two. 592.
GERMAN, Six Reasons for the Study of. 475.
GERMAN DEPARTMENT C. L. S. C. Prof. J. H. Worman. 54.
GERMANY, Home Life in. 199.
GOD’S IDEAL OF A MAN. Rev. B. M. Adams. 157.
GRADUATES, Class of 1882, List of C. L. S. C. 298.
GRADUATES OF 1882, Chautauqua. 118.
GREEK LIFE, Studies in Ancient. J. P. Mahaffy. 126.
GREEK, Reasons for the Study of. Prof. H. Lummis. 169.
GREEK, Hints to Beginners in the Study of New Testament. Rev.
A. A. Wright. 414, 476, 539.
GREEN, John Richard. Rev. H. A. Haweis, M.A. 575.
GYMNASTICS. 508.
HABIT OF TAKING PAINS. James Kerr, M.A. 392.
HEAVEN, The Employments of. Rev. L. T. Townsend, D.D. 570.
HISTORY, God’s Hand in. Bishop Simpson, LL.D. 70.
HOOD, Thomas. W. C. Richards. 409.
HOUSEKEEPING, German and American. 442.
INDIA, A Voice From. C. A. Martin. 47.
IRVING, Washington. Wallace Bruce. 390.
JEANNETTE, Story of the. 89.
JOYS OF HIGH COMPANIONSHIP. Arthur Helps. 561.
LANDSEER, Edwin and Charles. 466.
LANGUAGE IN ANIMALS. Richard Budd Painter. 323.
LECTURES, Local Circle. 529.
LECTURE BY ARTEMUS WARD. 549.
LETTER FROM ENGLAND, A. 524.
LIGHT, The Electric. A. A. Campbell Swinton. 325.
LITERATURE, Selections from English.
Advice, on Giving. Joseph Addison. 424.
Education compared to Sculpture. Joseph Addison. 125.
Poet Described, The. 423.
Practice and Habit. John Locke. 317.
Thoughts and Aphorisms. Jonathan Swift. 318.
LITERATURE, Selections from Chinese. 503.
LITERATURE, Selections from Japanese. 505.
LONGFELLOW’S BIRTHDAY. 459.
MAMMALIA. From the French of Ernest Menault. 389.
MAN, The Ugly. 169.
MANNER. Lord Chesterfield. 141.
MANNERS, Street. 452.
MEMORIAL BELL. 457.
MONTANA. Rev. Sheldon Jackson, D.D. 394.
MIND, Ardor of. James Kerr, M. A. 532.
MUSIC AT THE DAWN OF THE CHRISTIAN ERA. Prof. E. E. Ayres. 95.
MUSIC IN EARLY TIMES. Prof. E. E. Ayres. 30.
NEW MEXICO. Rev. Sheldon Jackson, D.D. 327.
NOTES ON REQUIRED READINGS:
April, 419.
May, 482.
June, 544.
OUTLINES OF C. L. S. C. STUDIES.
November, 104.
December, 167.
January, 230.
February, 288.
March, 356.
April,408.
May, 463.
June, 531.
PAINTINGS, Old. Robert Kempt. 570.
PEARLS, A Chaplet of. William Jones, F. S. A. 385.
PHOTOGRAPHY, The Applications of. 471.
PHYSIOLOGY. 374, 434.
PLAN, The Latest—Chautauqua Summer School for Children. 111.
POISON IN COMMON THINGS. Prof. P. A. Simpson, M.A., M.D. 137.
PORTRAIT COLLECTIONS. Walter F. Tiffin. 556.
PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY—Names of the Stars. 486.
QUESTIONS FOR FURTHER STUDY. 107, 167, 229.
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS. A. M. Martin.
Astronomy. 286, 353.
China, Corea, and Japan. 530.
Evangeline. 463.
Geology. First Lessons in. 48, 105.
Greece, History of. 47, 105.
Greek Course in English, Preparatory. 164, 228.
Hampton Tracts. 407.
RAINDROPS, HAILSTONES AND SNOWFLAKES. Prof. O. Reynolds. 75.
RAMBLES IN DAKOTA AND MONTANA. W. A. Duncan. 598.
READINGS FOR 1883-84, C. L. S. C. 531, 589.
RE-UNION AT CINCINNATI, C. L. S. C. 591.
ROUMANIAN PEASANTS AND THEIR SONGS. C. F. Keary. 197.
ROUND-TABLE. 51, 109, 167, 231, 289, 356, 409, 464, 596.
RUSSIA, History of. Mrs. M. S. Robinson. 10, 61, 121, 179, 241, 303,
365, 427, 489.
SCANDINAVIA, A Glance at the History and Literature of. Prof. L. A.
Sherman. 8, 63, 182, 244, 305, 368, 429, 487.
SCHOOL OF LANGUAGES, The Chautauqua. 54, 111, 414, 475, 539.
SCHOOL OF THEOLOGY, The Chautauqua. 112, 602.
SCIENCE, The Six Follies of. I. D’Israeli. 257.
SCIENCE AND COMMON SENSE. Charles Kingsley. 321.
SCIENCES, The Circle of. Prof. J. T. Edwards. 601.
SCIENTISTS, Atheistic. John Stuart Blackie. 137.
SONGS, C. L. S. C.
Anniversary Ode—1879. 458.
Break Thou the Bread of Life. 590.
Evening Praise. 523.
Hymn of Greeting. 590.
Join, O Friends, in a Memory Song. 402.
A Song of To-day. 44.
The Winds are Whispering. 346.
SPURGEON, Rev. Charles Haddon. A. A. Livermore, D.D. 565.
SUNDAY READINGS. Selected by Dr. J. H. Vincent.
Abraham to the Occupation of Canaan, From. W. F. Collier, LL.D. 190.
Action, The Reproductive Power of Human. Henry Melvill. 3.
Beginning to Abraham, From the. W. F. Collier, LL.D. 188.
Bible and other Religious Books, The. George F. Pentecost, D.D. 251.
Bible and Science, The. George F. Pentecost, D.D. 252.
Book, History of God’s. Rev. Frank Russell, A.M. 186.
Christmas Songs. 134.
Christ and the Apostles. S. A. Allibone. 249.
Christian Described, A. Rev. W. Jay. 439.
Communion with God. R. S. Storrs, D.D. 5.
Communion with God, The Privilege of. R. S. Storrs, D.D. 6.
Conflicts of Life, The. Bishop Edward Thomson, DD., LL.D. 133.
Design of the Discrepancies of the Scriptures. J. W. Haley, A.M. 90.
Dispensations in History and in the Soul, Three. Bishop Huntington.
313.
False Balance Detected by the True, The. William Arnot, D.D. 311.
Faith the Sole Saving Act. Rev. William Taylor, D.D. 381.
Finding and Bringing. 379.
God Magnified in his Works. G. Chaplin Child, M.D. 135.
Goodness of a Good Man, The. 131.
Growing. F. E. Havergal. 131.
Having, Doing and Being. James Martineau. 130.
Israelites after Reaching the Promised Land. W. F. Collier, LL.D.
191.
Life of the Israelites from Saul to Christ. W. F. Collier, LL.D.
248.
Love. Julius Muller, D.D. 1.
Manners. Abel Stevens, D.D., LL.D. 501.
Pardon—Forgiveness. Bishop Merrill. 94.
Religion in Common Life. John Caird, D.D. 496.
Speculations in Theology. Rev. R. S. Storrs, D.D. 329.
Tears of Jesus, The. J. H. Grandpierre, D.D. 2.
TALES FROM SHAKSPERE. Charles Lamb.
All’s Well that Ends Well. 515.
As You Like It. 453.
Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. 275.
King Lear. 271.
Macbeth. 338.
Midsummer Night’s Dream. 210.
Much Ado About Nothing. 395.
Romeo and Juliet. 84.
Taming of the Shrew. 81.
The Tempest. 39.
Twelfth Night. 152.
Two Gentlemen of Verona. 583.
Winter’s Tale. 213.
TALK FROM HEADQUARTERS. Concerning Chautauqua. 474.
TAXIDERMY. 507.
TENNYSON AND MRS. CARLYLE. 588.
TESTIMONY, C. L. S. C. 103, 162, 223, 402, 524.
THEY GROW TO FLOWERS OR TO WEEDS. Maxims. 383.
THRIFT. Charles Kingsley. 218.
TOUR ROUND THE WORLD, A. 99, 147, 216, 267, 466, 510, 551.
TRANSIT OF VENUS, The. 239.
UNITED STATES, The Resources of. 393.
WEBSTER, Daniel. A Letter from Prof. W. C. Wilkinson. 292.
WEBSTER, Daniel, _versus_ Stephen Girard. 472.
W. C. T. U. BORN AT CHAUTAUQUA, The. 156.
POETRY
AMONG THE MOUNTAINS. By the author of “John Halifax, Gentleman.” 326.
BEYOND. Mrs. Emily J. Bugbee. 557.
CELIA SINGING. Thomas Stanley. 442.
CHAUTAUQUA CHIMES. Addie Glover Carter. 47.
CHEERFULNESS TAUGHT BY REASON. Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 514.
CHILDREN, Our. Genevieve Irons. 150.
COMING OF SUMMER, The. Harriet Mabel Spalding. 536.
CONTENT. A. E. A. 196.
COUNSEL. Alice E. Jennings. 573.
DAFFODIL, The. Ada Iddings Gale. 558.
DAFFODILS AT SEA. J. S. Howard. 448.
DEATH’S CHANGED FACE. Frederick Langbridge. 537.
GARDEN REVERIE, A. I. L. Cosham. 18.
GLINT OF MOONLIGHT, A. I. L. Cosham. 129.
GOD’S HEARTHSTONE. Wallace Bruce. 95.
HOURS OF REST. Anna H. Drury. 392.
IN THE FOREST. S. Reid. 81.
JUNE. Ellen O. Peck. 507.
KNEELING FIGURE IN MALVERN PRIORY, On the. Chas. Grindrod. 141.
LAST SNOW OF WINTER, The. Sarah Doudney. 518.
LOSS AND GAIN. Mrs. Emily J. Bugbee. 413.
MAY. Luella Clark. 473.
MY WINTER GARDEN. Harriet Mabel Spalding. 320.
MY OWN GIRL. Frederick Langbridge. 161.
NIGHTINGALE, To the. Drummond of Hawthornden. 436.
PETITION TO TIME. B. W. Proctor. 207.
PETROCCHI, Sonnet of. Translated by Strong. 557.
PROPHECY, A. Rev. Benjamin Copeland. 582.
QUAINT OLD GARDEN OF MY CHILDHOOD. Clara Thwaites. 155.
RENUNCIATION. A. C. M. 569.
ROBIN AND I. C. B. 407.
SATISFIED. J. C. A. 452.
SONGS IN WINTER. David Buxton. 561.
SONG. Sir John Denham. 338.
SONG OF THE ROBIN. Miss A. M. Starkweather. 532.
SONNET, The. William Wordsworth. 466.
SORROW OF THE SEA, The. Alexander Anderson. 322.
SOWERS, The two. Alexander Anderson. 509.
STAGES. Benjamin Bulkeley. 193.
STRANGER, The. Ada Iddings Gale. 123.
STRIVING. Henry Burton. 75.
SUN-WORSHIPPERS, The. Hattie A. Cooley. 279.
SURPRISE, A Sweet. Mary R. Dodge Dingwall. 346.
THINKING OF MICHAEL. Alexander Anderson. 17.
THREE AGES. John Albee. 193.
TWO GRAVES, The. Henry Hogan. 78.
WEARY HEART, The. Rev. Frank S. Child. 263.
WE MUST NOT FORGET OUR DEAD. Mary R. D. Dingwall. 271.
THE CHAUTAUQUAN.
_A MONTHLY MAGAZINE DEVOTED TO THE PROMOTION OF TRUE CULTURE. ORGAN
OF THE CHAUTAUQUA LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC CIRCLE._
VOL. III. DECEMBER, 1882. No. 3.
Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle.
_President_, Lewis Miller, Akron, Ohio.
_Superintendent of Instruction_, J. H. Vincent, D. D., Plainfield, N. J.
_General Secretary_, Albert M. Martin, Pittsburgh, Pa.
_Office Secretary_, Miss Kate F. Kimball, Plainfield, N. J.
_Counselors_, Lyman Abbott, D. D.; J. M. Gibson, D. D.; Bishop H. W.
Warren, D. D.; W. C. Wilkinson, D. D.
Transcriber's Note: This table of contents of this
periodical was created by the transcriber to aid the reader.
Contents
Index to Volume III. INDEX
Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle Officers 121
REQUIRED READING:
History of Russia 121
The Stranger 123
Pictures from English History 124
Studies in Ancient Greek Life 126
A Glint of Moonlight 129
SUNDAY READINGS.
December 3
Having, Doing, Being 130
Growing 131
December 10
The Goodness of a Good Man 131
December 17
The Conflicts of Life 133
December 24
Christmas Songs 134
December 31
God Magnified in His Works 135
Atheistic Scientists 137
Poison in Common Things 137
Manner 141
On the Kneeling Figure in Malvern Priory 141
Comets 142
A Tour Round the World 147
Our Children 150
Morals and Sorrows of Borrowing and Lending 151
Tales from Shakspere—_Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will_ 152
Quaint Old Garden of Our Childhood 155
The W. C. T. U. Born at Chautauqua 156
God’s Ideal of a Man 157
My Own Girl 161
C. L. S. C. Work 161
C. L. S. C. Testimony 162
Local Circles 163
Questions and Answers 164
Outline of C. L. S. C. Studies for December 167
Questions for Further Study 167
C. L. S. C. Round-Table:
How England Maintained Her Nationality During
the Middle Ages 167
Reasons for the Study of Greek 169
The Ugly Man 169
C. L. S. C. Announcement for 1882-’83 172
Editor’s Outlook 173
Editor’s Note-Book 174
Editor’s Table 176
Books Received 177
Report of Chautauqua Normal Examination—1882 177
New Books for Boys and Girls 178
REQUIRED READING
FOR THE
_Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle for 1882-83_.
DECEMBER.
HISTORY OF RUSSIA.
BY MRS. MARY S. ROBINSON.
_CHAPTER IV._
THE HEROIC AGE—GROWTH OF THE RUSSIAN STATE, TO THE DEATH OF IAROSLAF
(1054).
The glory of the Russian arms, the splendor of the Russian State,
attained their maximum in the reign of the great Iaroslaf. Its form
of government continued to retain the Variag-Slav elements, but was
compacted and confirmed by the ideas brought into the country with the
influx of Greek priests and men of letters. The prince long remained,
as in the primitive times, first among his equals, the drujina—the
head and chief of a family of soldiers. He had great respect for the
counsels, and for the demands of these. Vladimir’s men complained, in
that they had to eat from wooden bowls. He forthwith provided them with
silver ones. “I can not buy myself a drujina with silver and gold,”
he said, “but with a drujina I can obtain silver and gold, as did my
father and my grandfather.” The Roman empire of the east represented
another form of government. Its sovereign was the heir of Constantine
and of Augustus; the vicar of God upon earth, the human representative
of the Sovereign of the universe. The Greek emperor derived his
power, not from the consent of his subjects—a phrase unknown in his
dominions,—but rather from the Being who conferred it as a prerogative,
a divine right. His person, his regalia, were sacred. The populace of
Constantinople believed that when God gave the empire to their city, he
gave it also the regal vestments at the hands of an angel. Leo, king
of the Kazarui, was said to have been smitten with a fatal ulcer for
his temerity in putting the Byzantine crown upon his head. This Roman,
and antecedently Asiatic conception of government, as vested in the
person of the imperator who made the laws, executed justice, received
the adoring homage as well as the unquestioning obedience of his
subjects, essentially modified the nobler, freer idea of government,
as held by the Variag princes; but the change was wrought gradually,
and was hardly perceptible during the epoch of the ascendency of the
Russia of the steppes, the supremacy of Kief. It came into prominence,
as we shall see, in the Russia of the forests, when Suzdal, and later
Moscow, became the nuclei, the centers of the realm in a subsequent
epoch. Iaroslaf compiled a code of laws, the Russkaia Pravda, the
Russian right, or verity, a code that, though subsequently modified by
Byzantine influence, remained for centuries the basis of the national
jurisprudence. The laws of the Pravda are in effect those of ancient
Scandinavia. Private revenge and avenging are recognized, as are
also the judicial duel and the ordeals; fines are fixed for various
crimes. The primitive form of trial by jury is established, but none
of the harsher penalties are prescribed that were introduced later by
the corrupted Greeks. Prisons, torture to wring confession, corporal
cruelties, flogging and capital punishment were unknown in the Russia
of the eleventh century. Its laws were milder, more humane than those
of Charlemagne. The Slav had not become debased by the vices of the
Roman empire of the east, nor by the ferocity of the Tatars. “A white
Arab,” a child of nature, uncorrupted by the iniquities of an ancient
civilization, with his ardent Oriental temperament, he retained as
yet much of the simplicity, the freedom from duplicity, that won the
recognition of Homer, Choerilius and Strabo.
The introduction of Greek Christianity was a fact of immeasurable
significance to the Russian realm. It proscribed the Papal Church
from Russian territory, and thereby isolated it from the nations
of the west. This isolation precluded the Russian people from the
religious sympathy, the material support of the Pope, and of the other
European nations, in crises of peril, or periods of emergency, such
as that of the appalling Tatar invasion. They could look for no help
beyond their own resources, their own strength. The difference of
religion served also as a perpetual barrier, a continually irritating
antagonism between the Russian and the Polish Slavs. On the other
hand, as the new faith was introduced by means of the Slavonic, the
mother tongue, Russian society was spared the sharp division between
the clerical, the learned, the high, Latin-speaking class, and the
lower classes that compose the bulk of every nation; a division that
contributed immensely to the founding of caste and to the arrogations
of a hierarchy throughout Latin Christendom. In Russia was reared a
national church, subject to no foreign, no alien sway, entangled with
no foreign alliances or foreign politics. Thus was secured an absolute
national and ecclesiastical independence. “No dragonnades, no frightful
inquisition, no Saint Bartholomews, no myriads of martyrs, no hideous
tortures, such as those invented and practiced by Jesuits and Romish
priests, have ever defiled the venerable ministry that traces its
origin to Ephesus and Saint John.”
Christianity gradually but essentially modified the social life, the
customs and manners of the people. It abolished polygamy; the structure
of the family was no longer Asiatic, but European. It heightened
the Slav virtues of hospitality and benevolence, by inculcating the
humanitarian precepts of the New Testament. It conferred a dignity
previously unknown, upon weakness, infirmity, poverty and labor. It
modified the public sentiment in regard to crime, by teaching the
inherent heinousness of sin. The oft-uttered words of Vladimir, “I
fear to sin,” indicate the change that was gradually effected in the
popular mind. Assassination, theft, and other crimes ceased to be
regarded as private injuries, to be commuted by fines or atoned for by
reprisals. They were punished as offences against humanity, in the name
of the Legislator, the Father of the race. What is more precious than
a Christian soul? asks one of the earlier descendants and successors
of Vladimir. The new religion brought music in its train to a people
who had a capacity for this art, but who were ignorant of its first
principles. It brought architecture into a realm whose buildings were
simply wooden tents, and whose ramparts were made of mud. In the rude
city were laid the decorated aisles, the sumptuous columns, the golden
cupolas and domes of the Russian church. It brought literature, first
of all by the sacred books translated into the vernacular; the works
of the Church fathers, among them Basil and Chrysostom; the lives of
the saints, Byzantine chronicles, eagerly read by the scholastic monk;
works on speculative and natural philosophy, and some few romances.
Contemporary Byzantine literature was not of the highest order; but
exported among a people whose thought and knowledge were limited to the
recital of their national legends, their primitive poems, it aroused
their germinant powers, and gave direction to their intellectual, their
social, and their moral development. We have to concede, however, that
the introduction of the Greek form of Christian belief was not entirely
salutary in its effects upon the people at large. The Byzantine Church
was smitten with the decay whereof the Byzantine civilization was
perishing. It retained, indeed, the elevated truths of the Christian
system, but had deplorably lost the spirit that alone “giveth life.” It
had failed, generally speaking, to eradicate the distinctive vices of
the Greek peoples—falsehood, treachery, perfidy, instability. In place
of a regenerated nature, it required of its adherents participation in
its elaborate ceremonial, the practice of its intricate rites, homage
to its imposing forms. It did little for intellectual enlightenment
or advancement, save in the perverted form of Oriental monachism,—a
painfully unnatural mode of life, calculated to foster mental disease
and general self-stultification. With no arrogations of secular or of
civil power, it has associated itself throughout Russian history with
the baleful conservatism, the hoary tyranny, the enslaving autocracy
of her sovereigns. Oriental in its origin, it has fastened upon the
Russian State the stationary ignorance, the servitude, the mental
inertia of the effete Oriental nations. Among its adherents we shall
find scarcely an example of the moral and spiritual liberty wherewith
the Head of the Church maketh his children free. So far removed
are they from this freedom, that their spiritual debasement, their
intellectual bondage and moral perversion lie like an incubus, against
which thus far the inherent strength of the nation has struggled in
vain. An Oriental autocracy and a church devoid of spiritual vitality
have hitherto proved immovable checks upon the advancement of the
Russian people. Not without reason does the Nihilist reject the
wretched ecclesiasticism that has misguided and miseducated his race
throughout a thousand years.
The portraits of Rurik and his Variag-Slav successors, preserved in the
imperial galleries of St. Petersburgh, are doubtless much idealized;
yet they may be supposed to bear some resemblance to their originals,
for Byzantine artists were in Kief as early as the reign of Vladimir
(972). The face of Rurik is strong, and possessed of a primitive
majesty; beneath heavy brows his eyes are steadfast, penetrating,
containing a force that under stress might break into the Berserker
rage, the fury that was a characteristic of the ancient Norse warrior.
The contours of the face are vigorous, and marked by a certain rude
symmetry, so to speak. The heavy mustaches part above the lips; below
them falls a dense beard that clings to the sides of the cheeks and
climbs to the hair. The head is shielded beneath a plain helmet
terminating above in a talon. From the under side of the helmet falls
a cape of mail, protecting the throat and shoulders; a sack or loose
coat of mail covers the body. A man to put one’s trust in, a man to be
feared as an enemy, is the impression conveyed by the portrait, as a
whole.
Vladimir, “the beautiful sun of Kief,” the Christianized Apollo of the
Russian Slav, the apotheosized hero of numberless legends and poems,
still current among his people, is represented with a richly jewelled
crown above an ermine border, resting upon his shapely head. His dark
hair falls flowing upon his shoulders; his beard is fine and waved;
his eyebrows delicately pencilled. Poetry and song lie in his liquid
eyes and upon his well-moulded lips. A touch of sadness allied with a
princely stateliness adds an indefinable, a melodious charm to this
beautiful portrait, that one might take at first glance for a humanized
representation of the Son of Man. Lovely, tender, strong, it is not
difficult to ascribe to the gracious influences of Christianity the
elevation, the chastened symmetry, the perceptible advance, evident in
the face, from the rude power of the Norse physiognomy. A bust like
unto it, set amid the busts of ancient Athens, would have elicited
expressions of admiration from the beholders. “A noble, a beautiful
barbarian!” they would have exclaimed.
The portrait of Iaroslaf represents a distinctive Slav. It depicts
a melancholy temperament held in equipoise by a clear intellect and
a firm will. Delicacy, a capacity for sadness and strength, combine
in the intelligence of the face; an intelligence more reposeful than
animated. The symmetry of the features is remarkable. The long-lidded,
serious eyes are essentially Slavic. The throat is large and shapely.
The regal robe is heavily broidered, decorated around the neck and down
the front with a band of light-hued fur. A grave man, with capacities
for understanding the arts that give solace and charm to existence,
Iaroslaf the Great was also a man to love and to be loved. Captain,
sovereign, legislator, he was especially the father of his people in
his affectionate care of, and in his intercourse with them.
The Slav’s inextinguishable passion for liberty, and the faithfulness
of the Variag to his ruler, his capacity for obedience and for martial
discipline, augured well for the nascent Russian state. The Slav
conception of the family, however, dominated long over that of a
compact government. The Byzantine form of political unity took root
in Russian soil, but was of slow growth, and was long obstructed by
the division of lands among the heirs of the reigning prince—a Slavic
custom observed from time immemorial. Iaroslaf had designed that his
eldest son should succeed him upon his throne; and upon his death-bed
he urged upon his other children the duty of recognizing their brother
Isiaslaf as their sovereign; they were to regard him “as a father.” But
notwithstanding the precautions of the great prince, the Slavic custom
of division prevailed with those who came after him. As a consequence,
the hundred and thirty years following his death (1054-1224), form
a period of internal partition, of disturbance, of civil wars and
strifes between the increasingly numerous members of the royal family.
During this period the realm was divided into no less than sixty-four
duchies or principalities, under the varying possession of two
hundred and ninety-three princes. These partitions were the occasion
of eighty-three civil wars, some of which brought into conflict the
entire fighting force of the nation. In addition to the internal
contentions, the barbarians remained a hostile element in the country.
The chroniclers record forty-six invasions of the Polovtsui, and
eighteen campaigns directed against them. This anarchy of princes in
eastern Europe possessed features of similarity with the feudal anarchy
of the west. The principalities of Russia corresponded with the domains
of the dukes, grafs, land-grafs, and mar-grafs of Germany, with those
of the lords and counts of France, and with the governments of the
lords and barons of England.
The principality or grand duchy of Kief remained preëminent among these
divisions. Its position near to, and its intercourse with the Greek
empire, its control of the Dnieper, the fertility of the Warm Soil, the
illustrious history of the capital and metropolis of the realm, mother
of Russian cities, all contributed to maintain its supremacy. Its
prince was the Grand Prince, chief among his fellow rulers elsewhere
in the realm, in point of privilege. Often was his territory hotly
contested by those princes whose energy or ambition impelled them to
audacious enterprises. To obtain Kief and the position of Grand Prince,
were the ends ardently coveted by the restless, warlike rulers who
chafed within the restricted limits of their obscure domains.
Along the tributaries to the east of the Dnieper, lay the
principalities of Tchernigof and of Novgorod-Severski. The ruling
family of Tchernigof, the Olgovitchi, who traced their lineage to the
illustrious Olga, were the most formidable rivals of Kief. East of
these lay the double principality of Riazan and Murom, whose chief
towns, respectively of the same name, the one on the Moskova, the other
on the Oka, indicate their ancient principalities on the modern map
of the empire. Westward, in the heart of mediæval Russia, inclosing
within its boundaries the great forest of Okof, where rise the Volga,
the Dnieper, and the Dwina, was the principality of Smolensk, all of
whose towns were built on the banks of one or another of its great
rivers. Its political importance lay in its control of nearly all
the commerce of the realm. A government in the later divisions of
the empire bears the name of the ancient principality. Near by was
Toropets, capital of a secondary domain ruled over by two princes of
renown, Mstislaf the Brave, and his son Mstislaf the Bold, glorious
names in the history of their country. Further to the northeast, in
the dense forests of the Volga and the Oka, lay the principality of
Suzdal, with its towns, Suzdal, Rostof, Vladimir-on-the-Kliasma. This
rugged region at the extremity of the Russia of the eleventh century,
encircled by aboriginal Finn tribes, was destined in time to achieve
a supremacy over all the other principalities, and to control the
destinies of the nation. The Slavs of the Volga, mingling with the
Finn tribes, Muromians, Meria, Tcheremisa, who, from being their
enemies, were ultimately forced to become their subjects, produced a
modified race, endowed with permanent, salient characteristics. The
Russia of the steppes of the Dnieper, gave way gradually, and yielded
its supremacy to the Russia of the forests of the Volga. From the
principality of Suzdal emerged the Grand Duchy or Tsarate of Moscow,
and from the Tsarate of Moscow arose Little and Great Russia, with
which were included in the fifteenth century Red and White Russia,
the Warm Soil, and other vast territories that combine to form the
European portion of the modern empire. The principalities we have named
presented a frontier against the untamed tribes of the steppes and of
the forests. A northern system of frontier defences holding in check
the Lithuanians, Letts, and Tchudi, was re-enforced by the powerful
governments of Novgorod and Pskof, situated in the regions of Lake
Ilmen and Lake Peïpus. Within the protection of these domains lay
two secondary appanages, Polotsk and Mursk, the latter in the basin
of the Dnieper. In southwest Russia lay Volhynia and Gallicia, or
Red Russia, one of whose cities was Galitch. Gallicia was peopled by
the White Kroats, a branch of the Danubian Slavs, who had affinities
with the neighboring kingdoms of Poland and Hungary. Igor, Prince of
Novgorod-Severski, is the hero of a Russian epic, that relates his
expeditions. In it the wealth and glory of Gallicia are thus exalted:
“Iaroslaf Osmomuisl of Gallicia,” cries the poet, apostrophizing the
prince, “lofty is thy throne of beaten gold! Thou holdest up the
Carpathians with thy regiments of iron! Thou art he who shutteth the
gates of the Danube, and putteth a bar across the pathway of the King
of Hungary. At thy good pleasure the gates of Kief are opened. With
thine arrows thou smiteth from afar!”
The division into appanages delayed but did not strike at the root
of the unity of the empire. Nay, it may be said to have nourished
this idea in its nascent development. At the death of every powerful
sovereign fresh divisions were made; hence no principality remained
sufficiently secure to become the home of a distinct, an enduring
nationality. Identity of race, of language, and of religion
characterized these states, whose princes were kinsmen, and whose ties
of blood were strengthened in many instances by the bonds of wedlock.
The descendants of Rurik bore rule from the Straits of Ienikale to
the borders of the Frozen Sea. The Grand Prince was held in fatherly
respect; and if some of his contemporaries stood ready to contend
for his throne, more were at hand to defend him with their money and
their arms. The unity of the nation, notwithstanding its numerous
divisions, was more distinct than that of Germany or of France during
certain periods of the mediæval era. The isolation of the Russian
realm maintained the permanence of this idea, in that it was preserved
from alien invaders, and from diplomatic or other complications with
powers that might have interfered with its internal affairs, or that
might have modified its advancement. The unity of the realm initiated
by Rurik, was developed gradually but irresistibly, and with no
considerable fluctuations down to the national uprising in 1612, when
it attained its fullest strength, and rendered the nation impregnable
alike to the designs of aliens, or to the subversions of internal
discord.
[To be continued.]
THE STRANGER.
By ADA IDDINGS GALE.
Thou dazzling vision in the Eastern sky,
Moving so grandly through the fields of space,
Thou stranger in our starry populace,
On what swift errand dost thou sunward fly?
Haply, among the everlasting host
Thou art a messenger fleet-winged as fate,
On some grave matter sent by powers of state,
Thy winged speed thy special pride and boast.
Or, art thou but a vagrant—fetterless
Roaming at will among the wand’ring spheres,
As naught to thee the pulsing of the years,
A shining type of starry willfulness?
Speed on, oh, wonderful! through endless space,
One All-puissant marks thy tireless race.
“For he who manages his own life badly, how is he likely to take proper
care of what is external to himself.”—_Euphron._
PICTURES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY.
By C. E. BISHOP.
III.—THE FIGHTING TROUBADOUR’S RETURN FROM THE WAR.
Concerning the “good old days” of chivalry and the crusades, the
London _Quarterly Review_ once said: “Life was earnest in its beliefs,
stormy in its ambition, hearty in its sports.” There is a funny story
going the rounds in these “degenerate days” of a disciple of Peter
Cartwright, who resisted a western rough’s invitation to drink and to
fight. The concluding remark of the bully, as he picked himself out of
the elder bushes, was, in the tones of a deeply-deceived man: “What
do you come around here for, with a long face on, saying you ‘never
have fun with the boys,’ when you are chock full of fun? You’ve nearly
broke my back.” In this contest the champions of religion and of “fun”
were arrayed against each other, but it was the advantage of the old
crusaders that both religion and “fun” lay in the same direction.
The chief of those romantic bruisers, King Richard Cœur de Lion, is
thus practically described by Charles Dickens: “He was a strong,
restless, burly man, with one idea always in his head, and that the
very troublesome idea of breaking the heads of other men.” Anyway, the
crusades were the great safety-valve of Europe for surplus religious
zeal and pugnacity, and a great relief they proved to the people who
stayed at home, as Motley and Prof. Fiske have splendidly argued.
Richard sought this outlet for his “idea.”
His career in the Holy Land was romantically ferocious. He was, indeed,
so impatient to get to business that he fought two or three battles
with Christians on the way. He showed but one redeeming trait, brute
courage; and a historian declares that the Saracen Saladin shows as the
Christian statesman, and Richard as the fighting barbarian in these
crusades. He was far more considerate of his Saracen prisoners than of
his own soldiers, and treated the Mohammedan leaders with more chivalry
than he did the allied kings and dukes. His hot temper and overbearing
manner really defeated the crusade, for it drove every other prince and
general home in anger. The Duke of Austria, for instance: The walls of
Ascalon had to be hastily repaired to repel an assault, but the Duke
held back from manual labor, saying he “was no stone mason.” Whereupon
King Richard incontinently kicked his Grace till he went to work.
The crusade collapsed. Richard heard that his amiable brother John,
encouraged by the angry King of France, was plotting his deposition,
and he started for home, undismayed by the fact that he had not a
friend left on the continent, and must needs cross hostile territory to
reach England. His accustomed luck and pluck seem to have deserted him,
for he was cast ashore in Austria, and he tried to skulk through the
booted Duke’s dominions in disguise. And so this proud, grand hero of a
hundred fights was captured in an inn kitchen, attired like a scullion,
wrestling with pots and pans—was Richard of the Lion Heart. He was
buried in a rocky dungeon, high above the Rhine, and for months no one
in England knew what had become of him.
Curiously enough, Richard owed his discovery and consequent
deliverance, not to his own courage, wit, or influence, but to his
ability to write songs and sing them. One of his ballads he had taught
to a friend named Blondel and Blondel now went troubadouring through
Europe, singing a verse of the song under the windows of every dungeon
and castle. He was at length relieved to hear the second stanza of
the verse trolled, or, perhaps, roared through the bars. The secret
was out, but Richard was not. The Duke of Austria and the Emperor of
Germany now went into partnership, trading on the expected ransom of
the royal prisoner—offering him to the highest bidder. Avarice proved a
worse obstacle than hatred to his release. His brother John and Philip
of France promised his captors more money to keep him, or to deliver
him to them, than they might get from England for his release, and so
he lingered in jail for fourteen months, while friends and enemies
were competitively striving to get together the price of his release
or his destruction. During this time Richard busied himself composing
verses lamenting his lot, and sighing for freedom and “fun,”—the most
profitable and least discreditable portion of his career, for the
verses were very good.
For all this time we have the following picture of affairs in England:
“The condition of the English nation was at this time
sufficiently miserable. John was strengthening his own
faction in the kingdom, of which he proposed to dispute the
succession. His own character being light, profligate, and
perfidious, John easily attached to his person and faction
not only all who had reason to dread the resentment of
Richard for criminal proceedings during his absence, but
also the numerous class of ‘lawless resolutes,’ whom the
crusades had turned back on their country, accomplished in
the vices of the East, impoverished in substance, hardened
in character, and who placed their hopes of harvest in civil
commotion.
“To these causes of public distress and apprehension, must
be added the multitude of outlaws who, driven to despair
by the oppression of the feudal nobility and the severe
exercise of the forest laws, banded together in large gangs,
and, keeping possession of the forests and wastes, set at
defiance the justice and magistracy of the country. The
nobles themselves, each fortified within his own castle, and
playing the petty sovereign over his own dominions, were the
leaders of bands scarce less lawless and oppressive than
those of the avowed depredators. Under the various burdens
imposed by this unhappy state of affairs, the people of
England suffered deeply for the present, and had yet more
dreadful cause to fear for the future.
“Yet amid these accumulated distresses, the poor as well
as the rich, the vulgar as well as the noble, in the event
of a tournament, which was the grand spectacle of the age,
felt as much interested as the half-starved citizen of
Madrid, who has not a real left to buy provisions for his
family, feels in the issue of a bull-feast. Neither duty nor
infirmity could keep youth or age from such exhibitions.”[A]
One of these exhibitions, the Tournament of Ashby, is famous
historically, and has been made the subject of one of the finest
word-pictures of the “Wizard of the North.” In a natural amphitheater
near the village of Ashby the lists were enclosed with strong
palisades, forming an oblong space about a quarter of a mile in length,
and half as broad. At either end were strong wooden gates wide enough
to admit but two horsemen abreast; each of these gates guarded by two
heralds, attended by six trumpeters, six pursuivants (messengers), and
a strong body of horsemen. Around the entrances the magnificent tents
of knights, each of its owner’s chosen color, surmounted by his pennon,
his shield and coat of arms hanging in front, his guards, retainers and
jester in gay livery contributing to the moving scene. Back of these,
refreshment tents and the quarters of farriers and
“The armourers, accomplishing the knights,
With busy hammers closing rivets up,
Give dreadful note of preparation.”
Around the circle were galleries, spread with tapestry for the ladies
and nobles, while extending up the slopes, and even to the tops of the
trees set thick about were the great multitude of common people. On
one side the royal seat and canopy, occupied by Prince John and his
brilliant retinue; on the opposite a gayer gallery, and the throne of
the Queen of Beauty and of Love, monarch of the hour and rewarder of
the victorious knights. This stand was brilliant with the rich attire
of the ladies and their pages—the prevailing colors of the habits of
the latter, as of the throne, being green and pink. The traditional
insignia of Cupid shone all about on banner and shield—wounded hearts,
bleeding hearts, burning hearts, bows, quivers, etc.
As the procession of contestants enters the arena, the sound of wild,
barbaric music rends the air—a mixture of trumpets, cymbals, bells, and
other instruments brought back from the East by the crusaders. It is a
goodly and at the same time an anxious sight to behold so many gallant
champions, mounted bravely and armed richly, awaiting the signal of
encounter with the same ardor as their generous steeds, neighing and
pawing the ground. The knights hold their long lances upright, their
bright points glancing in the sun, and the streamers with which they
are decorated fluttering over the plumage of their helmets. All is
ready; the heralds make proclamation of the conditions of the tourney;
the marshals of the field proclaim; the trumpets sound; the signal
words, _Laissez aller_! [French for “Go!”] are shouted; spears drop to
a horizontal, spurs are sunk in the steeds, and fifty knights crash
together in full gallop. Anon the dust rises and the fight becomes
visible; we see half the knights dismounted, some not to rise, others
already on their feet fighting hand to hand with mace or ax amid a
struggling pile of disabled horses, wounded men, broken spears and
armor, the still mounted knights trampling and fighting with swords,
the crash of which on iron helmets and shields makes an infernal din,
over which roar the shouts of the champions, and the more excited
shouts of the crazed spectators, the shriller encouragement of ladies
and the clang of trumpets. The splendid armor is now defaced with dust
and blood; the gay plumage, shorn from the crests, drifts upon the
breeze like snowflakes; all the beautiful and graceful has disappeared,
and what remains ought only to awaken terror or compassion. But all,
including delicate and high bred ladies, cheer on the combatants; while
the heralds spur back and forth on the borders of the _melee_, crying,
“Fight on, brave knights! man dies, but glory lives—death is better
than defeat! Fight on! for bright eyes behold your deeds!”
Now, at length, the combatants have thinned out until only one knight
is left on one side to meet three powerful antagonists. It is fighting
in earnest now, and Prince John incites the three to the destruction
of the one whom he hates as a friend of the absent Richard. “The
Disinherited Knight” is sure to be overpowered. Suddenly a voice like
a trumpet-call sounds, “To the rescue!” and a horseman in black armor,
not yet seen in the fray, spurs like a thunderbolt on the three. One is
unhorsed in the shock; another is cut down by the sword, the last falls
under his horse helpless, and the tournament is ended.
Eight knights were killed, upwards of thirty wounded, several
disabled for life. This is known in history as the “Gentle and joyous
Passage-at-Arms of Ashby.” “Hearty in their sports,” were those old
knights. They were “chock full of fun.”
In the tumult of relieving the wounded, the knight of the black
armor disappeared, and could not be found to receive the chaplet of
honor. But a few minutes later there was a commotion in Prince John’s
pavilion. An unknown messenger had placed a letter in his hands; it
bears the signet of the arms of France; it is from his confederate,
Philip, and it reads: “_Take heed to yourself! the devil is loose!_”
“What does it mean?” asked the courtiers.
“It means Richard is free and in England! We have seen him. Let us
away!”
It was so. The ransom, partly raised from English loyalty and partly
pledged by Richard’s faithful friends, had been delivered to the
captors, and the plot of John and King Philip had failed. John fled to
Normandy, and was subsequently forgiven by his brother. “I will try
to forget my injuries as soon as John will forget my pardon,” said
Richard, sarcastically. This is the only case on record where Cœur de
Lion made the mistake of being too merciful. If he had disposed of
John, England would have been saved from its worst king, but possibly
might have missed the advantage of the great charter of rights at that
time. But Richard took swift vengeance on King Philip.