crossing themselves, as the Russians do in moments of danger.  All this may seem strange to us who have been taught from our earliest years that religion is something quite different from spells, charms, and incantations, and that of all the various religions in the world one alone is true, all the others being false.  But we must remember that the Finns have had a very different education.  They do not distinguish religion from magic rites, and they have never been taught that other religions are less true than their own.  For them the best religion is the one which contains the most potent spells, and they see no reason why less powerful religions should not be blended therewith.  Their deities are not jealous gods, and do not insist on having a monopoly of devotion; and in any case they cannot do much injury to those who have placed themselves under the protection of a more powerful divinity.

This simple-minded eclecticism often produces a singular mixture of Christianity and paganism.  Thus, for instance, at the harvest festivals, Tchuvash peasants have been known to pray first to their own deities, and then to St. Nicholas, the miracle-worker, who is the favourite saint of the Russian peasantry.  Such dual worship is sometimes even recommended by the Yomzi—­a class of men who correspond to the medicine-men among the Red Indians—­and the prayers are on these occasions couched in the most familiar terms.  Here is a specimen given by a Russian who has specially studied the language and customs of this interesting people:* “Look here, O Nicholas-god!  Perhaps my neighbour, little Michael, has been slandering me to you, or perhaps he will do so.  If he does, don’t believe him.  I have done him no ill, and wish him none.  He is a worthless boaster and a babbler.  He does not really honour you, and merely plays the hypocrite.  But I honour you from my heart; and, behold, I place a taper before you!” Sometimes incidents occur which display a still more curious blending of the two religions.  Thus a Tcheremiss, on one occasion, in consequence of a serious illness, sacrificed a young foal to our Lady of Kazan!

     * Mr. Zolotnitski, “Tchuvasko-russki slovar,” p. 167.

Though the Finnish beliefs affected to some extent the Russian peasantry, the Russian faith ultimately prevailed.  This can be explained without taking into consideration the inherent superiority of Christianity over all forms of paganism.  The Finns had no organised priesthood, and consequently never offered a systematic opposition to the new faith; the Russians, on the contrary, had a regular hierarchy in close alliance with the civil administration.  In the principal villages Christian churches were built, and some of the police-officers vied with the ecclesiastical officials in the work of making converts.  At the same time there were other influences tending in the same direction.  If a Russian practised Finnish superstitions he exposed himself to disagreeable consequences of a temporal kind; if, on the contrary, a Finn adopted the Christian religion, the temporal consequences that could result were all advantageous to him.