they slept in the warm dwellings which the luxury of the western world has provided for the indolence of man. Short time for sleep, however, was allowed. The winter days in this rude region, seldom lasting for above three or four hours, it was necessary to travel through darkness as in daylight. The sun was never visible through the dull grey clouds that constantly hang beneath the sky, occasionally letting fall their snowy burden to wrap the whole land in its cold embrace. Under these auspices was the journey continued, until on the 8th of December they reached the hills of Obsdorsk, where the town of that name stands. It was a cheering thing, after long travels through so desolate a country, to meet here, in the remotest north, with many of the distinguishing characteristics of civilization. Huge ovens were filled with bread, while whole stacks of loaves rose from the floor to the ceiling in many of the houses, which were scattered picturesquely over the hills. A wooden church imparted a tone of quiet serenity to the scene; while the dense columns of smoke, rising in straight lines through the still atmosphere, lent it the air of comfort and peace. Just above the horizon the long-hidden sun shed its rays over the snowy landscape, and a bright blue sky reared its arch over the whole. In the distance, a long chain of mountains, presenting the singular appearance of blue eminences, traced over with glittering threads of snow, could be observed; while along the ice-covered Obi, moved the long trains of sledges driven by the rudely attired Ostyaks. A great fair is annually held at Obdorsk, and thither flock the Russians to purchase ivory, peltry, and reindeer skins; the dwellers on the mossy plains to the eastward, the Samoyedes from beyond the mountains, and the fishing tribes who find a home on the sea-coasts. To them the Ostyaks and the Samoyedes races of the neighbourhood, dispose of their merchandise at advantageous rates, and thus the place is invested with importance. The latter named people contribute the larger portions of the skins of the Polar bear, sold in the market. Much singular information is given concerning the habits of these beasts, which, did space allow, we should willingly extract. But, did we endeavour to condense all the interesting matter furnished by the present volumes, we should exceed all ordinary limits. Passing, therefore, with this brief mention, the hunting dogs of the Ostyaks, the able discussion on languages which follows,

the speculation on the mixture and distribution of races, the description of religious rites, we come to the observations on the dogmas of Ostyak theology:

"It might almost be assumed, that the religion of the Ostyaks, previous to their acquaintance with the Christians, was undergoing, independently, a process of complete purification; or else, (which is, indeed, far more likely), that this people had gradually fallen away from the health of a sound faith-to use the language of St. Augustine-to the sickness of Paganism; for it is an incontestible fact, singular as it may appear, that the Ostyaks, notwithstanding the imperfect development of their religious services, have yet some ideas of a Supreme Being; for, under the name of Toruim, they venerate a god."

But the Ostyaks also worship their dead friends, making to them offerings of food, and embracing a rude wooden image, which at the end of three years they inter, and bury apparently with it, all regrets for the death of him whom it represents. The Ostyaks venerate the black, and the Samoyedes the white bear, for they call it the strongest of God's creatures.

On the 12th of December, Mr. Erman, having determined on an excursion to the mountains, set off soon after sunrise with his companions, in sledges, along the ice of the Polui. The river lay between hills deeply cracked with frost. Crossing the ice of the Obi, they entered on a low plain, dotted with leafless larch trees, and clumps of willow bushes. One hour and a half's time brought with it sunset, when they reached the portable dwelling of a Samoyede family, on the point of being removed; the tent covering was taken off and slung with the poles on the long reindeer sledges. The men and women, closely packed, followed in others, and after them came a long train of unharnessed animals, bringing up the rear. After proceeding for some hours over an irregular country, they reached a spot which the drivers pronounced suitable for the bivouac. The reindeers were turned loose, a stem of larch was torn down and split up for fuel, the tent was pitched and well covered with skins, a fire kindled, and couches of soft fur spread. The women fetched in large masses of pure untrodden snow, which they melted, partly to drink and partly to boil their porridge with. After partaking of a humble meal, some of the men went out to tend the reindeer in the wood, while the rest of the party enjoyed the cheering warmth of the fire. When all had thus comforted themselves, it was determined at once to sleep. Every one simultaneously wrapped his fur garments closely round his person, and stretching out beside the blazing heap in the centre, fell into slumber. The watchers in the forest came in and out at intervals, and were relieved. Early in the morning, preparations were made for starting. The young men of the Samoyede family were alone to accompany the European party to the mountains, while the others promised to await their return in the tent. The ascent of the hills was shortly commenced. All the wild and rugged elements of an Arctic landscape were presented in strange confusion. Lofty rocky ridges crossed and recrossed the slopes, stunted groves sprung up from uneven expanses of snowy ground, a frozen stream wound among the heights, and the occasional Samoyede tents gave life to the scene. Troops of wolves had, during the preceding night, come down from the mountains and destroyed several reindeer, one of whom was found with the back of its head gnawed off and the brains taken out. The animals that were not killed, had been dispersed and frightened to a distance, so that a fresh relay could not be obtained for the sledges. The summit of the mountains were, however, in spite of this disappointment, shortly reached; whence, after having made some observations, they immediately commenced descending towards the plain :

"Towards the east, we could now descry, over a broad wall of outlying hills, the undulating plain through which the Khanami takes its winding course. The sun was already set, but the strong twilight still tinged with red the western sky and the snowy plain, and only the hollows lay in shade. The air was perfectly transparent, and there was not the least sign of mist in the valleys. Bright green shadows on the ground, from objects near us, could now be seen from the twilight, though less vividly than on our ascent, when the sun was directing its rays horizontally, and they added not a little to the charms of this singular landscape."

Exhilirated by the pleasant termination of their excursion, they descended the mountain slope at a swift gallop, gliding with immense rapidity over the smooth snow until they reached the lovely vale of the Khanami. Traversing this they entered on the broad alluvial plain, where they met with two huge caravans of the wandering Samoyedes.

The spot where our travellers had left the tent, was found utterly deserted. The herds having exhausted the scanty herbage which grows beneath the snow, had removed off some distance in a north-easternly direction, and thither the family had followed them. The separated party soon joined again, and a feast of reindeer flesh and porridge, and a hearty night's rest, recompensed all for the fatigue they had borne.

It was not our traveller's intention to pursue the journey further in this direction. He therefore, after observing all that was curious and interesting in the neighbourhood, left Obsdorsk, and pushing his return with as much haste as was practicable, again arrived at Tobolsk on the 29th of Dec. So rapid had been the journey, that the transition from the nomade life of the north, to the totally different modes and manners of the tribes of their neighbourhood, appeared like a dream, and inspired our author, not with the desire to seek again the homes of civilization, but with earnest longings to penetrate still deeper into the strange regions he had visited, where man is seen almost in his primeval simplicity. But this was impossible until the return of a milder season. Our travellers, therefore, wintered at Tobolsk, and then proceeded on their adventurous travels. We leap over a wide space in the narrative, and meet the expedition on the shores of Lake Baikal, advancing towards the frontiers of China. Up to a very recent period in modern history, the close connection of the Russian and Chinese Empires was unknown. Merchants and traders, however, endeavoured to push their enterprises beyond the usual limit, and the spirit of commercial adventure, which is ever the pilot of discovery, carried them across the wide regions lying between the old kingdom and the then almost fabulous land of the Celestials. Rumours arose, and were spread. It was asserted that beyond the borders of those dreary tracts of land, which the traders of Russia had hitherto been led to consider as the barriers of enterprise, there lay a mighty empire, peopled with millions of inhabitants, and well adapted to enter into commercial intercourse with the half-civilized races of whose existence they were as ignorant as these races themselves were of the nations that surrounded them. Discoveries followed each other in quick succession, and at length opened the way for those immense trading caravans that now form the link of communication between the two empires.

Lake Baikal was completely frozen over, and the expedition at once struck forth upon its wide extent. The horses went forward at a heavy gallop, which never flagged until the opposite shore was gained. Seven German miles were thus completed in the space of two hours and a quarter. A brilliant scene was presented from the heights on the north side of the lake.

"All along the shore the rays of the sun were broken and refracted in a thousand tints from a confused range of shattered fragments and polished sheets of ice, that shot perpendicularly up from the adjacent plain. Beyond lay the glassy expanse, stretching away to the South-west and North to disappear in the dark blue sky; while, in the West, the glittering peaks upon the opposite shore seemed to rise out of the very lake itself, their lower parts being hidden by the convexity of the earth."

Hence a low plain, overgrown with reeds and sedge, allowed but an indifferent road for the sledge. Beyond this lay the valley of the Selenga, a river of considerable size, with fruitful and fertile agricultural tracts extending from its banks. Immense trains of sledges, laden with tea-packages, met them at intervals, while occasionally oxen served as beasts of draught. At Troitskoi they saw a monastery enclosed within a quadrangular wall, with turrets and loopholes at the corners. The Abbot Feodosyi settled here in 1681, when he came from Moscow to convert the Buraets, in company with a few monks. The monastery he built was one of the earliest erected on this side of the Lake Baikal. It contained, when Mr. Erman passed, six monks and a prior. About the middle of February they reached Verkhnei Udinsk, a town of some little importance, inhabited by a respectable population. Beyond this place they again entered among nomade races the Buraets, who preserve a manner of life similar to that of the Samoyedes. An encampment of these people was met with, and they came out and welcomed the travellers with all the rude hospitality of half-savage tribes. But short stay, however, was made among them, for our travellers were anxious to visit the Chinese frontier, which was now but a few miles distant. Arrived, they found the subjects of China hurrying across the boundary line, in compliance with the law which ordains that every subject of his Celestial Majesty shall be in Maimachen before