CIRCASSIA.

This is not a vast country like China, or Hindostan. It may be called a

nook, it is so small compared with some great kingdoms: but it is famous

on account of the beauty of the people. They are fair, like Europeans,

with handsome features, and fine figures. But their beauty has done them

harm, and not good; for the cruel Turks purchase many of the Circassian

women, because they are beautiful, and shut them up in their houses.

Perhaps you will be surprised to hear that the young Circassians think it

a fine thing to go to Turkey--to live in fine palaces and gardens,

instead of remaining in their own simple cottages. But I think that when

they find themselves confined between high walls, they must sigh to think

of their flocks and their farms at home, and more than all, of the dear

relations they have left behind.

Circassia is a pleasant country, situated near the noble mountains of

Caucasus. The snow on the mountains cools the air, and makes Circassia as

pleasant to live in as our own England. Indeed, if you were suddenly to

be transported into Circassia, you would be ready to exclaim, "Is not

this England? Here are apple-trees, and pear-trees, and plum-trees, like

those in my father's garden: those sounds are like the notes of the

blackbird and thrush, which sing among the hawthorns in English woods."

But look again, you will see vines interlacing their fruitful branches

among the spreading oaks. You do not see such vines in England. But hark!

what do I hear? It is a sound never heard in England. It is the yell of

jackals.

MANNERS OF THE PEOPLE.--There is no country in the world where the people

are as kind to strangers as in Circassia. Every family, however poor, has

a guest-house. There is the family-house, with its orchard, and stables,

and at a little distance, another house for strangers. This is no more

than a large room, with a stable at one end. The walls are made of

wicker-work, plastered with clay. There is no ceiling but the rafters,

and no floor but the bare earth. Yet there is a wide chimney, where a

blazing fire is kept up with a pile of logs. And there is a sofa or

divan, covered with striped silk, and many neat mats to serve as beds for

as many travellers as may arrive. The wind may whistle through the

chinks, and the rain come through the roof, but the stranger is well

warmed, and comfortably lodged; and above all, he has the host to wait

upon him with more attention than a servant. The supper is served as soon

as the sun sets.

But where is the table? There is none. Is the supper placed on the floor?

Not so. It is brought in on stools with three legs. They answer the

purpose of tables, trays, and dishes, all in one. What is the fare served

up? This is the sort of dinner provided. On the first table is placed a

flat loaf; the gravy in the middle, and the meat all round. When this is

taken away, another table is brought in with cheese-cakes; a third with

butter and honey; a fourth with a pie; a fifth with a cream; and last of

all, a table, with a wooden bowl of curdled milk. The company have no

plates; but each Circassian carries a spoon and a knife in his girdle,

and with these he helps himself. The servants who stand by, are not

forgotten: a piece of meat or of pie-crust is often given to one of them;

it is curious to see the men take it into a corner to eat it there. There

are many hungry poor waiting at the door of the guest-house, ready to

help the servants to devour the remains of the feast; and there is often

a great deal of food left; for there are generally _ten_ tables, and

sometimes there are _forty_ tables. The guests are expected to taste the

food on each, however many there may be.

Instead of wine, there is a drink called shuat handed to the guests: it

is distilled from grain and honey. Vegetables are not much eaten in

Circassia: for greens are considered fit only for beasts: and there are

no potatoes. Pies, and tarts, and tartlets of various kinds are too well

liked, and the finest ladies in the land are skilful in making them.

The family live in a thatched cottage, called "the family-house." It is

not divided into rooms. If a man wants several rooms, he builds several

houses.

As you approach the dwelling of a Circassian, you hear the barking of

dogs, and upon coming nearer, you see women milking cows, and feeding

poultry, and boys tending goats, and leading horses.

If you go into the farm-yard, you will see among the animals, the

buffalo--but no pig. There are, however, wild boars in the woods.

CIRCASSIAN WOMEN.--They are not shut up as Hindoo, and Chinese, and

Turkish ladies are. They do not indeed go into the guest-house to see

strangers; but strangers are sometimes invited into the family-house to

see them.

An Englishman, who visited a family-house, was introduced to the wife and

daughter. They both rose up when he entered: nor would they sit down,

till he sat down; and this respect ladies show not only to gentlemen, but

even to the poorest peasants. The only furniture in the house was the

divan, on which the ladies sat; a pile of boxes, containing the beds,

which were to be spread on the floor at night; and a loom for weaving

cloth, and spindles for spinning.

The daughter, who was sixteen, was dressed in a skirt of striped silk,

with a blue bodice, and silver clasps; and she wore a cap of scarlet

cloth, adorned with silver lace--her light hair flowing over her

shoulders: yet though so finely arrayed, her feet were bare; for she only

put on her red slippers when she walked out. The mother was covered with

a loose calico wrapper, and her face was concealed by a thick white veil.

The visitor laid some needle-cases at the ladies' feet, for it is not the

custom for them to receive presents in their hands.

The needle-cases greatly delighted the young Hafiza, and her mother. The

present was well chosen, because the Circassian women are very

industrious, supplying their husbands and brothers with all their

clothes, from the woollen bonnet to the morocco shoe. The wool, the flax,

and the hemp, are all prepared at home by the mothers, and made into

clothes by the girls, who first spin the thread, then weave the cloth,

and finish by sewing the seams. Some girls are very clever in knitting

silver lace for trimming garments. A girl named Dussepli was famous for

her skill in this art, indeed her name signifies, "Shining as lace."

An Englishman went to the place where she lived to buy some of her lace.

He was shown into the guest-house, and he soon saw Dussepli approaching

in a pair of high pattens. At first sight there was nothing pleasing in

Dussepli but when she spoke she seemed so kind, and so true, that it was

impossible not to like her. By her industry in knitting lace, and dyeing

cloth, she helped to support her father, who was poor.

THE CIRCASSIAN MEN.--War is their chief occupation. Working in the fields

is left to the women, and the little boys, and the slaves. There is,

alas! great occasion for the men to fight, as the land has long been

infested with many dangerous enemies.

The Russians are endeavoring to conquer the Circassians: but the

Circassians declare they will die sooner than yield. Long ago the enemies

must have triumphed, had it not been for the high mountains which afford

hiding-places for the poor hunted inhabitants. Every man carries a gun, a

pistol, a dagger, and a sword; and the nobles are distinguished by a bow,

and a quiver of arrows. The usual dress is of coarse dark cloth, and

consists of a tunic, trowsers, and gaiters. The cap or bonnet is of

sheep-skin, or goatskin.

The boys are taught from their infancy to be hardy and manly. They are

brought up in a singular way. Instead of remaining at home, they are

given at three years old, into the care of a stranger: and the reason of

this custom is, that they may not be petted by their parents. The

stranger is called "foster-father," and he teaches any boy under his care

to ride well, and to shoot at a mark. The boy follows his foster-father

over the mountains, urging his horses to climb tremendous heights, and to

rush down ravines; and appeasing his hunger with a mouthful of honey from

the bag, fastened to his girdle. Such is the life he leads, till he is a

tall and a strong youth; and then he returns home to his parents. His

foster-father presents him with a horse, and weapons of war, and requires

no payment in return for all his care.

Men brought up in this manner must be wild, bold, restless, and ignorant.

Such are the Circassians. They care not for learning, as the Chinese do,

but only for bravery. We cannot wonder at this, when we remember what

enemies they have in their land. The Russians have built many strong

towers, whence they shoot at all who come near. But, not satisfied

with this, they often come forth and rob the villages.

[Illustration: Guz Beg the "Lion of Circassia."]

There was a Circassian, (and he may be still alive,) called Guz Beg; and

he gained for himself the name of the "Lion of Circassia." He was always

leading out little bands of men to attack the Russians. One day he found

some Russian soldiers reaping in the fields, and when he came near they

ran away in terror, leaving two hundred scythes in the field, which he

seized. But a great calamity befel this Lion. He had an only son. When he

first led the boy to the wars, he charged him never to shrink from the

enemy, but to cut his way through the very midst. One day Guz Beg had

ridden into the thick of the Russian soldiers, when suddenly a ball

pierced his horse, and he was thrown headlong on the ground. There lay

the Lion among the hunters. In another moment he would have been killed,

when suddenly a youthful warrior flew to his rescue;--it was his own son.

But what could _one_ do among so _many_! A troop of Circassian horse

rushed to the spot, and bore away Guz Beg; but they were too late to save

his son. They bore away the _body_ only of the brave boy. Guz Beg was

deeply grieved; but he continued still to fight for his country.

See those black heaps of ashes. In that spot there once lived a prince

named Zefri Bey, with his four hundred servants; but his dwellings were

burned to the ground by the Russians. That prince fled to Turkey to plead

for help. What would have become of his wife, and little girls, if a kind

friend had not taken them under his care? This friend was hump-backed,

but very brave. Some English travellers went to visit him, and were

received in the guest-house and regaled with a supper of many tables.

Next day the little girls came to the guest-house and kissed their hands.

The daughter of the hump-backed man accompanied them. The children were

delighted with some toys the traveller gave them, and the kind young lady

accepted needles and scissors. But where was the wife of Zefri Bey? A

servant was sent to inquire after her, and found her in rags, lying on a

mat, without even a counterpane, and weeping bitterly. Had no one given

her clothes, and coverings? Yes, but she gave everything away, for she

had been used, as a princess, to make presents, and now she cared for

nothing. Such are the miseries which the Russians bring upon Circassia.

THE GOVERNMENT.--There is no king of Circassia; but there are many

princes.

The people pay great respect to these princes, standing in their

presence, and giving them the first place at feasts, and in the

battle-field. But though the people honor them, they do not obey them.

There is a parliament in Circassia, but it does not meet in a house, but

in a grove. Every man who pleases may come, but only old men may speak.

If a young man were to give his opinions, no attention would be paid. The

warriors sit on the grass, and hang up their weapons of war on the boughs

above their heads, while they fasten their horses to the stems of the

trees.

The speakers are gentle in their tones of voice and behavior. The

Circassians admire sweet winning speeches. They say there are three

things which mark a great man; a sharp sword, a sweet tongue, and forty

tables. What do they mean by these? By a sharp sword they mean bravery,

by a sweet tongue they mean soft speeches, and by forty tables they mean

giving plentiful suppers to neighbors and to strangers. Are the

Circassians right in this way of thinking? No--for though bravery is

good, and speaking well is good, and giving away is good, these are not

the greatest virtues: and people may be brave, and speak well, and give

away much, and yet be wicked: for they may be without the love of God in

their hearts. What are the greatest virtues? These three, Faith, Hope,

and Charity. These are graces which come from God.

SERVANTS.--There are slaves in Circassia, called serfs. But they are so

well treated, that they are not like the slaves of other countries. They

live in huts round their master's dwelling; they work in the fields, and

wait upon the guests, and share in the good fare on the little tables.

When a Circassian takes a Russian prisoner, he makes him a slave, and

gives him the hardest work to do. Yet the Russians are much happier with

their Circassian masters than in their own country.

Once a Circassian said to his Russian slave, "I am going to send you back

to Russia." The man fell at his master's feet, saying, "Rather than do

so, use me as your dog; beat me, tie me up, and give me your bones to

pick." The master then told him that he had not spoken in earnest, and

that he would not send him away, and then the poor fellow began to shout,

and to jump with joy.

BROTHERHOODS.--There is a very remarkable plan in Circassia, unlike the

plans in other countries. A certain number of men agree to call

themselves "brothers." These brothers help each other on every occasion,

and visit at each other's houses frequently. They are not received in the

guest-house, but in the family-house, and are treated by all the family

as if they were really the brothers of the master.

A brotherhood sometimes consists of two thousand, but sometimes of only

twenty persons.

RELIGION.--Circassia, though beautiful, is an unhappy country. The

Russians keep the people in continual fear; this is a great evil. But

there is another nation who have done the Circassians still greater harm.

I mean the Turks. And what have they done to them? They have persuaded

them to turn Mahomedans. The greatest harm that can be done to any one,

is to give him a false religion. There are no grand mosques in Circassia,

because there are no towns: but in every little village there is a clay

cottage, where prayers are offered up in the name of Mahomet. There can

be no minaret to such a miserable mosque: so the man who calls the hours

of prayer, climbs a tall tree, by the help of notches, and getting into a

basket at the top, makes the rocks and hills resound with his cry. How

different shall be the sound one day heard in every land; when all people

shall believe in Jesus. "Then shall the inhabitants of the rocks

sing--then shall they shout from the top of the mountains, and give glory

unto the _Lord_" and not to Mahomet. (Is. xlii. 11, 12.)

But though the Circassians call themselves Mahomedans, they keep many of

their old customs, and these customs show that they once heard about

Christ.

It is their custom to dedicate every boy to God: but not really to _God_,

for in truth they dedicate him to the _cross_. Let me give you an account

of one of the feasts of dedication.

The place of meeting was a green, shaded by spreading oak-trees. In the

midst stood a cross. Each family who came to the feast, brought a little

table, and placed it before the cross; and on each table, there were

loaves, and a sort of bread called "pasta." There was a blazing fire on

the green, round which the elder women sat, while the younger preferred

the shade of a thicket. The priest took a loaf of bread in one hand, and

in the other, a large cup of shuat, (a kind of wine) and holding them out

towards the cross, blessed them. While he did this, men, women, and

children, knelt around, and bowed their heads to the ground. Afterwards,

the shuat and the bread were handed about amongst the company. But this

was only the beginning of the feast. Afterwards, a calf, a sheep, and two

goats were brought to the cross to be blessed. Then a little of their

hair was singed by a taper, and then they were taken away to be

slaughtered. Now the merriment began: some moved forward to cut up the

animals, and to boil their flesh in large kettles on fires kindled on the

green; many young men amused themselves with racing, leaping, and

hurling stones, while the elder people sat and talked. When the meat was

boiled, it was distributed among the sixty tables, and then the priest

blessed the food. And then the feasting began. Does it not seem as if the

Circassians must once have learned about Jesus crucified, and about his

supper of bread and wine, and about the Jewish feasts and sacrifices?

Once, perhaps, they knew the true religion, but they soon forgot it, and

though they still remember the _Cross_, they have forgotten _Christ_; and

though they still bless the bread and the cup, they know nothing of

redeeming love. Do you not long to send missionaries to Circassia? Well,

some good Scotch missionaries went there some years ago, but alas! the

Russians sent them away. Their thatched cottages may still be seen, and

their fruitful orchards, but they themselves are gone. There are,

however, a few German Christians in Circassia. They are not missionaries,

but only farmers, therefore the Russians allow them to remain. They have

a little church, where the Bible is read, and God is worshipped. You will

be glad to hear a few Circassians may be seen amongst the congregation;

they were converted by the Scotch missionaries, and they have remained

faithful amongst their heathen neighbors.