| OCR Text |
Show Numbers of our boys and girls are familiar with that affecting story, "Elizabeth, or, The Exiles of Siberia" - one of the few books that never grow old. Just now when Alexander II, had so recently fallen by an assassin's hand, all that concerns the Russian nation is of world-wide interest; and we hope that God is working in his mysterious way to give a milder form of government to a wiser and happier people. The Russian Government sends those who offend it to Siberia. The journey is a long and painful one. On his arrival the prisoner must answer the following questions. His name? How old? Married or single? Where from? Address of parents, or relations, or friends? Answers to all which are entered in the books. A solemn written promise is then exacted of him that he will not give lessons of any kind, or try to teach any one, that every letter he writes will go through the officer's hand, and that he will follow no occupation except shoe making, carpentering, or field labor. He is then told he is free but at the same time is solemnly warned that, should he attempt to pass the limits of the town, he will be shot down like a dog rather than be allowed to escape, and should he be taken alive, will be sent into Eastern Siberia. The poor fellow takes up his little bundle and fully realizing that he has now bidden farewell to the culture and material comfort of his past life, he walks out in the cheerless street. A group of exiles, all pale and emaciated, are there to greet him, take him to some of their miserable lodgings, and feverishly demand news from home. The noble by birth gets about $4 a month from the Government for their maintenance, and common people only $2.50, although many of them are married and sent into exile with young families. Daily an officer visits their lodgings, inspects the premises when and how he pleases, and makes some mysterious entry in his notebook. Should any of this number carry a warm dinner, a pair of newly mended boots, or a change of linen to an exile lodged for the moment in the police ward, it is likely as not marked against him as a crime. In fact should the officer feel out of sorts - the effect of cards or drink - he vents his bad temper on the exiles. Crimes are marked down against the exiles in astonishing numbers, and a report of them sent regularly to the Governor of the Province. Winter lasts eight months, a period during which the surrounding country presents the appearance of a noiseless, lifeless, frozen marsh - no roads, no communication with the outer world, no means of escape. In course of time almost every individual exile is attacked by nervous convulsions, followed by prolonged apathy and prostration. They begin to quarrel, and even to hate each other. Some of them contrive to forge false passports and make their escape, but the great majority of these victims go mad, commit suicide, or die of delirium tremens. Their history, when the time comes for it to be studied and published, will disclose a terrible tale of human suffering and shortcomings not to be found in the history of any other European State. Scholar's Companion. |
