the winter is legitimately and confessedly at an end. The stoves, meanwhile, are always kept heated in winter, that the house may never cool. Inconsiderate foreigners attempt sometimes to follow the caprices of the climate, and often pay for their temerity with illness and death.

It is only when the cold falls to an unusual degree of severity that any change takes place. The police are put on the alert, and the officers go round day and night, to see that the sentinels and butshniks keep awake. Should any one be found nodding at his post, he is summarily and severely punished, for sleep at such a time is a sure state of transition from life to death. The pedestrians, who at other times are rather leisurely in their movements, now run along the streets as though they were hastening on some mission of life or death, and the sledges dash over the creaking snow. Faces are not to be seen in the streets, for every man has drawn his furs over his head, and leaves but little of his countenance uncovered. Every one is uneasy about his nose and his ears, and as the freezing of these desirable appendages to the human face is not preceded by any uncomfortable sensation to warn the sufferer of his danger, he has enough to think of if he wish to keep his extremities in order. "Father, father, thy nose! " one man will cry to another as he passes him, or will even stop and apply a handful of snow to the stranger's face, and endeavour, by briskly rubbing the nasal prominence, to restore the suspended circulation. These are salutations to which people are accustomed, and as no man becomes aware of the fact when his own nose has assumed the dangerous chalky hue, custom prescribes among all who venture into the streets, a kind of mutual observance of each other's noses, a custom by which many thousands of these valued organs are yearly rescued from the clutches of the Russian boreas. A man's eyes at this season cost him some trouble likewise, for they are apt to freeze up every now and then. On such occasions it is customary to knock at the door of the first house you come to, and ask permission to occupy a place for a few minutes by the stove. This is a favour never denied, and the stranger seldom fails to acknowledge it on his departure, by dropping a grateful tear on the hospitable floor.

At seventy degrees of cold there are few St. Petersburg mothers who would allow their children to go into the open air. Ladies venture abroad only in close carriages, of which every aperture is closed by slips of fur. There are families at this season who will spend weeks without once tasting a mouthful of fresh air, and at last, when the cold has reached its extreme point,

none are to be seen in the streets but the poorest classes, unless it be foreigners, people in business, or officers. As to these last, the parades and mountings of guard are never interrupted by any degree of cold, and while the frost is hard enough to cripple a stag, generals and colonels of the guard may be seen in their glittering uniforms, moving as nimbly and as unconcernedly as though they were promenading a ball-room. Not a particle of a cloak must be seen about them; not a whisper of complaint must be heard. The Emperor's presence forbids both, for he exposes himself unhesitatingly to wind, snow, hail, and rain, and expects from his officers the same disregard of the inclemencies of the

season.

WINTER IN ST. PETERSBURG.

PART II.

THE Russian stoves are in their way the most complete things that can be imagined. They are built up with glazed tiles, and such are the multitudinous passages, ascending and descending, that before the heat emitted by the fire has found its way into the chimney, it has often a distance of a 100 feet in length to pass through. The huge mass of stone which composes the stove is a long time before it gets warm; but, once warm, it retains the heat for a whole day. Almost the only wood used at St. Petersburg as fuel is the wood of the birch tree. It is the cheapest to be had in the neighbourhood, and its embers are more lasting than those of the pine or fir. Now the embers are to a Russian stove of the greatest importance, for it is from the embers, and not from the flame, that the stove is expected to derive its heat. The Russian stove-heaters are extremely dexterous in all the details of their occupation. Tongs and shovels are unknown to them. Their only instrument is a long iron poker with a hook at the end of it. With this they keep stirring up the fiery mass, break up the embers, and pull forward the fragments of wood that are still burning. In every great house there is at least one servant whose exclusive duty it is to look after the stoves, and to collect and prepare the requisite fuel. In order that the family may have a warm room to take their coffee in, in the morning, it is necessary that the stove-heater should begin his labours at an early hour of the night. In general he builds up a pile of logs within each stove the evening before, that the wood may be well dried, and then he sets fire to it early in the morning.

In every Russian house the stove plays an important part, particularly so in the houses of the poor. There the stove is often of extraordinary dimensions, and serves for cooking and baking food as well as for warming the room. Round it are placed benches, where at their leisure the inmates may enjoy the luxuries of increased heat. In the stove itself a variety of niches and indentations are made, where various articles are laid to dry, and wet stockings and linen are constantly hanging about it. the platform, at the top, lie beds, on which, wrapped up in their sheepskin cloaks, the inmates often abandon themselves to the twofold luxury of idleness and perspiration.

The double windows, which are often found even in the houses of the poorest peasants, contribute greatly to the warmth of Russian houses. As early as October the house may be said to go into winter quarters. Double windows are affixed to every room; every aperture through which a little air might find its way is carefully covered, and slips of paper are pasted over the edges of all the windows. Here and there a window is so constructed that a single pane may now and then be opened to let in a little air. In this close and confined atmosphere the family live till the returning May ushers in the first fine weather, and gives the signal that fresh air may again be permitted to circulate through the interior of the mansion.

In the intermediate space formed by the double windows it is customary to place sand or salt, either of which, by absorbing moisture, is supposed to increase the warmth. The salt is piled up in a variety of fanciful forms, and the sand is usually formed into a kind of garden decorated with artificial flowers. These bloom and blossom through the winter in their glassy cases, and as in these arrangements every family displays its own little fancies and designs, it may afford amusement, to those who are not above being amused by trifles, to walk the streets on a fine winter morning, and admire the infinite variety of decorations presented by the double windows.

Quite as much care is expended upon the doors as upon the windows. It is a common thing to pass not merely two, but three doors before you enter the warmed passage of a house; and this is the case not only in private houses, but also in public buildings.

The Russians, with all their liveliness of character, are by no means fond of any kind of exertion; and all gymnastics, whether mental or bodily, are odious to them. In cold weather they creep behind the stove, or bury themselves in furs, instead of battling

;

against the frost with their arms and legs, as those of any other nation would do. The butshnik * creeps into his wooden house the soldier, if he dares, into his sentry-box; and the sledge-driver rolls himself up into a sort of tangled ball under the mats of his sledge. In these positions many of them are surprised by sleep, and fall victims to the frost. The sentinel is found an inanimate statue in his box; the butshnik is drawn forth a mere mummy; and the poor driver is taken a petrified cripple from his sledge. The immoderate use of spirits in which the people indulge very much augments the danger. The great majority of those who are frozen to death are the victims of intoxication. A severe frost never sets in, in St. Petersburg, without finding a number of drunken men sleeping in the streets; and sleep on such an occasion is the usual stage of transition to death. The inconsiderate conduct of the rich towards their servants is another and a frequent cause of death. It is incredible how much the poor coachmen, footmen, and postillions are expected to endure. People will often go to a party, and leave their equipages in the street the whole evening. The coachman then finds it difficult to resist the inclination to sleep; and the little twelve-year-old postillions, not yet accustomed to watch till midnight, bang slumbering on their horses, or winding the reins round their arms, slip down and lie cowering on the frozen snow. Many a poor coachman has thus lost his nose, or has had his hands and feet disabled. Fortunately, the freezing to death is one of the easiest and least painful deaths. Nay, some say that the sensation which accompanies it is not without some degree of enjoyment, and those who are roused from the slumber which in these cases usually precedes death seldom show at first any thankfulness to those who have disturbed them.Abridged from Kohl's Russia.

SOME ACCOUNT OF CABOOL.

AFGHANISTAN, or Cabool, as it is also called, is the country which forms the western boundary of the Punjaub, or province of Lahore, in India. On the north it is bounded by a branch or continuation of the Himalaya mountains-the Hindoo Kosh, as they are called,-and on the west by Persia, while the small province of Scinde lies to the south-east.

Almost the whole country is intersected with ranges of mountains, the higher summits of which are covered with snow all the

* Butshnik, policeman.

year round. Owing to this, the climate is cooler than that of most parts of India; and its trees and fruits resemble those of Europe more than those of hotter regions.

The Afghans are a strong, active race, very unlike the indolent Hindoos. They are commonly clothed in dark-coloured woollen dresses, and wear brown mantles or large sheepskin cloaks. They are a brave and warlike, but savage and cruel nation. They are governed by a king, who, however, exerts but little power over his people.

Afghanistan is remarkable as having been the scene of the dreadful war which took place in the winter of 1841. The British army had conquered and taken possession of Cabool, the capital city; but the inhabitants suddenly rose in arms, and compelled the troops to leave the city, and begin a retreat through the mountain passes in the depth of winter. The snow was thick on the ground, and the retreating army endured the most dreadful sufferings from cold and hardships of every kind. Numbers were slain by the Afghans, who pursued them closely, and still greater numbers perished in the snow; and of the whole army only a few survived to relate their sad history.

The following is a description of Cabool, the chief city of Afghanistan, written by a traveller who visited it a few years ago:

Description of Cabool.

"Cabool is a most bustling and populous city. Such is the noise in the afternoon, that in the streets one cannot make an attendant hear. The great bazaar, or Chouchut,' is an elegant arcade, nearly six hundred feet long, and about thirty broad. It is divided into four equal parts. Its roof is painted, and over the shops are the houses of some of the citizens. The plan is judicious, but it has been left unfinished; and the fountains and cisterns, that formed a part of it, lie neglected. Still there are few such bazaars in the East; and one wonders at the silks, cloths, and goods which are arrayed under its piazzas. In the evening it presents a very interesting sight. Each shop is lighted up by a lamp suspended in front, which gives the city an appearance of being illuminated. The number of shops for the sale of dried fruit is remarkable, and their arrangement tasteful. In May one may purchase the grapes, pears, apples, quinces, and even the melons, of the bygone season-then ten months old. There are poulterers' shops, at which snipes, ducks, partridges, and plovers, with other game, may be purchased. The shops of the shoemakers