mud precluding the possibility of a constitutional.  The nearest approach to excitement was mushroom-gathering; and in this occupation my inability to distinguish the edible from the poisonous species made my efforts unacceptable.  We lived so “far from the madding crowd” that its din scarcely reached our ears.  A week or ten days might pass without our receiving any intelligence from the outer world.  The nearest post-office was in the district town, and with that distant point we had no regular system of communication.  Letters and newspapers remained there till called for, and were brought to us intermittently when some one of our neighbours happened to pass that way.  Current history was thus administered to us in big doses.

One very big dose I remember well.  For a much longer time than usual no volunteer letter-carrier had appeared, and the delay was more than usually tantalising, because it was known that war had broken out between France and Germany.  At last a big bundle of a daily paper called the Golos was brought to me.  Impatient to learn whether any great battle had been fought, I began by examining the latest number, and stumbled at once on an article headed, “Latest Intelligence:  the Emperor at Wilhelmshohe!!!” The large type in which the heading was printed and the three marks of exclamation showed plainly that the article was very important.  I began to read with avidity, but was utterly mystified.  What emperor was this?  Probably the Tsar or the Emperor of Austria, for there was no German Emperor in those days.  But no!  It was evidently the Emperor of the French.  And how did Napoleon get to Wilhelmshohe?  The French must have broken through the Rhine defences, and pushed far into Germany.  But no!  As I read further, I found this theory equally untenable.  It turned out that the Emperor was surrounded by Germans, and—­a prisoner!  In order to solve the mystery, I had to go back to the preceding numbers of the paper, and learned, at a sitting, all about the successive German victories, the defeat and capitulation of Macmahon’s army at Sedan, and the other great events of that momentous time.  The impression produced can scarcely be realised by those who have always imbibed current history in the homeopathic doses administered by the morning and evening daily papers.

By the useful loquacity of my teacher and the possibility of devoting all my time to my linguistic studies, I made such rapid progress in the acquisition of the language that I was able after a few weeks to understand much of what was said to me, and to express myself in a vague, roundabout way.  In the latter operation I was much assisted by a peculiar faculty of divination which the Russians possess in a high degree.  If a foreigner succeeds in expressing about one-fourth of an idea, the Russian peasant can generally fill up the remaining three-fourths from his own intuition.

As my powers of comprehension increased, my long conversations with the priest became more and more instructive.  At first his remarks and stories had for me simply a philological interest, but gradually I perceived that his talk contained a great deal of solid, curious information regarding himself and the class to which he belonged—­information of a kind not commonly found in grammatical exercises.  Some of this I now propose to communicate to the reader.