RUSSIA. No. IV. THE RUSSIAN VAPOUR-BATHS. THE experiments of physiologists have clearly demonstrated the fact, that in the space of twenty-four hours a weight of from two to five pounds is evolved from the body of a healthy person, passing off by imperceptible perspiration in the form of aqueous vapour, combined with animal matter, and various saline particles. Of these, some are necessarily deposited on the surface of the skin, and if not removed by ablution, infallibly obstruct the delicate pores of the epidermis, laying the foundation of cutaneous disorders in all their disgusting forms, and not unfrequently predisposing the body to maladies of more dangerous character. The paramount importance, therefore, of cleanliness, for the preservation of health, admit not of a doubt. That this is sufficiently performed by the daily ablution simply of the extremities, it would be ridiculous to imagine, and yet, it is to be feared, that a vast proportion of the otherwise cleanly population of Great Britain carry their purifications little further. In England, the bath is considered as a luxury, within the compass only of the rich; on the Continent, on the other hand, it is resorted to by all classes, not merely as a source of enjoyment, but also as a preservative of health, and as a means of cure. Nowhere is its use more general than in Russia; in almost every town, and in very many of the villages throughout that extended empire, vapour-baths are to be found. In Moscow alone there are upwards of thirty-three public baths, the greater part of which are mainly supported by the operative classes. Independently of these, there are more than six hundred others, attached to private houses and to establishments of the crown. For the convenience of an ample supply of water, the public baths are generally located on the banks of the river. The prices vary from twopence to eight shillings. We shall limit ourselves, in the present instance, to a description of those appropriated to the poorer and middling classes. The bath-room is nearly the same in all; the difference consists chiefly in the more luxurious appendages of the dressingroom. It is scarcely necessary to remark, that there are separate departments for the two sexes. The first room, destined for undressing, is generally a large unfurnished apartment, round which runs a broad settle or bench, the walls unplastered and of rough wood. The temperature here is about fifty-six degrees of Fahrenheit. Opening out of this is the vapour-room; the sensation on entering a place of this kind for the first time, approaches, for a moment, that of suffocation, so heavily is the atmosphere loaded with dense clouds of heated vapour. This chamber is heated by means of a large stove, in the centre of which, immediately over the furnace, and exposed to the full action of the fire, is a recess filled with broken flints, which retain the heat as long as the stove itself. On these water is thrown to generate the vapour, which, exhaling instantaneously, rises to the upper part of the room, where it floats in its greatest density. The temperature here varies very considerably; near the floor there are, perhaps, not more than sixty-eight or seventy degrees of Fahrenheit, whilst close to the ceiling there are rarely less than one hundred and forty degrees, whilst the bath is in use. The bathers, on entering, immediately wet the head, and then pour over the body several vessels of tepid water, which, relaxing the skin, disposes it to the copious perspiration that soon bursts forth: to stimulate this beneficial effect, after rubbing themselves thoroughly with a lather of soap, applied with a handful of bark matting, they ascend a platform extending along one side of the room, and reaching, by receding steps of two feet in width, to within a few feet of the ceiling, where, lying down in the midst of the steam, they rub themselves vigorously with a sort of broom made of dry birch branches, and macerated in boiling water; this, in passing over the body, gives a smarting sensation of burning, which, on the first trial, is hardly endurable; it is, however, merely momentary. however, merely momentary. The temperature of the highest ledge is then raised to nearly one hundred and sixty degrees, by throwing more water upon the stones. In breathing these heated vapours, the lungs expand, and although the respiration continues calm and equal, the heart beats with accelerated energy, and the pulse increases in frequency, fulness, and strength; the blood, instead of concentrating in the interior vessels, appears to tend rapidly towards the numerous arteries of the surface. The pulse, on the first attempt, will generally mount to one hundred and fifty or one hundred and sixty pulsations in the minute. After remaining in this station about a quarter of an hour, the bathers descend one or two steps, when they subject themselves to an operation almost like that of tempering steel; for, whilst the body is thus glowing with heat, they throw over themselves a bucket of cold water, repeating the effusion till they feel refreshed. The first shock produces a passing sensation of pain, occasioned by the sudden contraction of the muscles of the throat, a deep inhalation follows, and, as the operation is continued, the pulse, which was before one hundred and sixty, in a few minutes gradually calms down to eighty. Hazardous as this procedure may appear, it is perfectly free from danger, and is, indeed, indispensably necessary to restore calm to the vascular system, and vigour to the body, which, macerated for half an hour in hot aqueous vapours, with a copious stream of perspiration continually flowing, is naturally, for the moment, considerably enfeebled. The ancients began their bath with tepid water, and then resorted to the vapour or hot bath, always concluding by cold immersion, or effusion; hence, in the subdivisions of the Thermæ, the succession of the frigidarium, the tepidarium, and the caldarium, intended gradually to prepare the body for the intense heat of the hypocauston, or vapour-room; and, in returning, to moderate the transition from the hot vapour to the cold external air. The Russian vapour-bath, properly administered, never being followed by prolonged perspiration, there is little danger in using it at any season, the powerful stimulus given to the action of the skin, enabling it rather to resist the cold; the well-known fact, that the Russian peasantry frequently rush out of the heated bath and roll in the snow, with impunity, is a proof of this. The effect of a bath of this description must not be estimated from those produced by the vapourbaths commonly made use of in England; in the latter, the respiration being excluded from the influence of the vapours, the surface of the skin alone is acted upon, and that even in a very limited degree; whilst in the former, the centre of the circulation is directly and powerfully within its influence. quitting the bath, the slight and almost luxurious feeling of lassitude which is experienced, rapidly gives place to a sensation of energy and elasticity, mental as well as physical, which is perfectly delightful; the head feels clear, the spirits lively, a plea On surable glow of vigorous existence succeeds; all the little ailments that may have been flitting about the body have vanished as by magic, and for a day or two afterwards the animal functions act with greater vigour and regularity. THE MUSK-RAT. WHERE the wild stream, half-choked with sedgy weeds, That rove the verdant shores and pluck the weed, Twelve inches thick, roofs in this Winter-home. And thus they live, secluded from the light, CHRISTIAN DUTIES.-It is owing to the forbidden and unlovely constraint with which men of low conceptions act when they think they conform themselves to religion, as well as the more odious conduct of hypocrites, that the word Christian does not carry with it at first view all that is great, worthy, friendly, generous, and heroic. The man who suspends his hope of the reward of worthy actions till after death, who can bestow unseen, who can overlook hatred, do good to his slanderer, who can never be angry at his friend, never revengeful to his enemy, is certainly formed for the benefit of society. Yet these are so far from heroic virtues, that they are but the ordinary duties of a Christian.-Spectator. WHILE we are reasoning concerning life, life is gone; and death, though perhaps they receive him indifferently, yet treats alike the peasant and the philosopher.-HUME POSITION OF MAN IN THE ECONOMY OF NATURE ALL the treasures of nature so artfully contrived, so wonderfully propagated, so providentially supported throughout the three kingdoms, seem intended by the Creator for the sake of man. Everything may be made subservient to his use, if not immediately, yet mediately; not so to that of other animals. By the help of reason, man tames the fiercest animals, pursues and catches the swiftest, nay, he is able to reach even those who lie in the bottom of the sea. By the help of reason he increases the number of vegetables immensely, and does that by art, which nature, left to herself, could scarcely effect. By ingenuity, he obtains from vegetables whatever is convenient or necessary for food, drink, clothing, medicine, navigation, and a thousand other purposes. He has found the means of going down into the abyss of the earth, and almost searching its very bowels. With what artifice has he learned to get fragments from the most rocky mountains, to make the hardest stones fluid like water; to separate the useful metal from the useless dross, and to turn the finest sand into some use! In fact, when we follow the series of created things, and consider how providentially one is made for the sake of another, the matter comes to this, that all things are made for the sake of man; and for this end more especially, that he, by admiring the works of the Creator, should extol his glory, and at once enjoy all those things of which he stands in need in order to pass his life conveniently and pleasantly. The subject of the economy of nature is of such importance and dignity, that if it were to be properly treated in all its parts, man would find wherewithal to employ almost all the powers of his mind. Nay, time itself would fail before even the most acute human sagacity would be able to discover the amazing economy, laws, and exquisite structure of the least insect, since, as Pliny observes, nature nowhere appears more herself, than in her most minute works. Every species of created beings deserves to engross one examiner. We, therefore, of the human race, who were createu to praise and adore our Creator, unless we choose to be mere idle spectators, should, and in duty ought to be, affected with nothing so much as the pious consideration of this glorious world. Most certainly, if we were to improve and polish our minds by the knowledge of these things, we should, besides the great use which would accrue to our economy, discover the more excellent economy of nature, and more strongly admire it when discovered.---BENJAMIN STILLINGFLEET. WORLDLY GOOD.-Of all that have tried the selfish experiment, let one come forth and say he has succeeded. He that has made gold his idol-has it satisfied him? He that has toiled in the fields of ambition-has he been repaid? He that has ransacked every theatre of sensual enjoyment is he content? Can any answer in the affirmative? Not one. And when his conscience shall ask him, and ask it will, "Where are the hungry, whom you gave meat? The thirsty, whom you gave drink? The stranger, whom you sheltered? The naked, whom you clothed? The prisoned, whom you visited? The sick, whom you answer, "I have done none of these things,-I thought ministered unto?" how will he feel, when he must only for myself!"—Tatler. THERE is not a greater sign of a little mind than the affectation of despising little duties.Mrs. Bray. He who useless is in life surveyed, Burdens that world his duty bids him aid. AGENCY OF THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM. In considering the peculiarities of organized products, it must be taken into account, that even in the living body, products which have once been organized, appear to be requisite for the formation of new products of organization. Thus, vegetable life is in great measure supported by the decay of former vegetables; graminivorous animals require vegetables, and carnivorous animals flesh, for their subsistence. In reference, therefore, to ourselves, we also require the products of vegetable and animal organization for our support; and the inorganic elements, or their binary compounds, are utterly inefficient as nutriment. If we now look more closely into the details upon which these statements are founded, we shall find that the vegetable kingdom is the laboratory, as it were, in which the elements of inorganic nature are so combined as to be fit for animal food; for a vegetable can live upon carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen, or at least upon carbonic acid and water, although some portion of organic matter is required for the growth of a seed, and although, during the process of germination, it feeds as it were upon itself; yet, as soon as the fibrils of its rootlet are perfected, and its leaves spread out to the sun and air, it absorbs water and carbon, and elaborates them into gum, sugar, starch, and other products; such, for instance, as we find in the grasses that cover the earth. With these the bounty of Nature has clothed the surface, and has so constituted them as to be fit for the food of graminivorous animals; in their organs they are so modified, as to become parts of themselves; and thus, the vegetable elements are transferred to the animal kingdom, through the medium of the graminivorous tribes; and through them, to man himself. GOOD INTENTION IN READING. Ir is of great importance to possess the mind, as Addison beautifully expresses it, (Spectator, No. 213,) "with an habitual good intention." I would apply this to reading. Such an intention will lead us to take up every book, on whatever subject it may be, with a view of extracting something worth preserving, either with reference to present pursuits, excellent or beautiful in itself,-or which may, eventually, be useful individually, or to others. Where books are not property, and where leisure admits, notes will perhaps be made, or extracts, either collective or separate, according to various subjects. It is incredible how much may be gained by such a method; how much satisfaction it affords in its progress, and how useful, after the lapse of many years, such notes and extracts have been found, either from the information thus conveyed, or the hints afforded towards the extension of studies and pursuits, which, at the time when they were made, were not within the reach of the young reader. It has been said, that no book is worth reading once, which is not worth reading twice. It may be said with, perhaps, greater truth, that few can be found, such as a well-principled person would read, from which something may not be gained. Let young people, then, acquire the habit of never taking up a book without a sincere desire to learn something from it; let them lay up what appears useful, and trust to time and opportunity to apply their stores; let them treasure all that can compensate to them for their want of experience; let them read books rather above than below their age; so will they be excited to diligence in order to comprehend and apply them fully, and be preserved from the danger of a fondness for idle books. MORNING IN A PERSIAN VILLAGE. SUN-RISE and sun-set are the hours to see a Persian village under its most characteristic aspect. By the break of day all hands are active, the shrill voices of the women are mingled with the latest notes of the "chanticleers" that sit roosted above them, and the deep barking of the watchdogs; and one may see them sallying forth from their nightly lairs, and taking to the house-tops, with garments huddled on in haste. Next come the men, caleeoon in hand, clustering here and there around a blaze of weeds-the young indolently shouldering their great spades, and lounging off to their tasks. Before the first rays of the sun are seen darting up the sky, a huge bellowing and bleating makes itself heard, and from a score or two of black yawning portals out rush hundreds of sheep and large fierce dogs, and belaboured by a score of stout young cattle, horses, asses, and camels, bayed by several dozen of fellows with sticks and clubs, dashing, jostling, curvetting, and thundering through the narrow lanes, almost overturning the little dwellings in their course, while the shouts of their drivers add to the direful din. In a few minutes the rush has passed the gates, and all the environs of the village are seen covered with its live stock of all descriptions, streaming in every direction to their tasks and gazing on the departing youngsters, and waiting for the early beams of the sun to warm their stiffened limbs; but still the continued yells of the old ladies and the screams and uproar of the children, mingled with the vigorous remonstrances of their mothers, sufficiently testify that all within the walls has not yet subsided into the quiet routine of the day, and it is not for some time that the cessation of the clamour gives token that the village is reduced to its ordinary state of tranquillity.-British and Foreign Review. Looking, then, at the subject in this light,-that is, considering the transfer of matter from one kingdom of nature into another; tracing the atoms from the inorganic creation, from the earth, the air, and the ocean, through the vegetable world into the animal frame, and thence, back again, from the death and decay of animals, through the organs of plants, and from them to inanimate nature, what a wonderful picture is presented of mutability on the one hand, and of indestructibility and duration on the other: the organic forms are continually in a state of production and decay; the ultimate elements, permanent and immutable ! For chemistry teaches us, that what is vulgarly called decay or corruption, is merely the disposition or arrangement of the same materials, the same ingredient elements, into other forms; not a single atom is ever lost or destroyed, nor is any element transmuted or annihilated. Examine, for instance, one of the most perfect cases of apparent destruction or annihilation-that presented by fire; a taper burns away, and gradually seems to vanish, and we naturally enough suppose that it is annihilated and lost. But when the question is more exactly investigated, what do we find actually to have hap-grazing-grounds. The elders take their post by the gate, pened? We trace, in the invisible stream of air which ascends from the glowing flame, all the materials or ultimate elements of the wax passing off into, and dissolved by, the air, and wafted away into the remote regions of the atmosphere; the matter, however, is not destroyed, but so far from it, has only become what it was before it existed in wax, an active agent, that is, in the business of the world; a main support of vegetable life; and still susceptible of running again and again the same round, as circumstances may determine; again absorbed by plants, and again becoming a part of the frame of a living being. [Magazine of Popular Science.] As the sword of the best-tempered metal is most flexible, so the truly generous are most pliant and courteous in their behaviour to their inferiors.-FULLER. POPULAR ERRORS AND SUPERSTITIONS. No. V. TALISMANS, &c. THE superstitious belief in the virtues of Talismans, Amulets, &c., which once prevailed to so great an extent, and which was maintained as much by interested knaves, as by the ignorance of their dupes, has greatly declined, though it is not extinct. The mental enlightenment which invariably follows the spread of our pure Protestant faith, has, however, almost wholly dispersed the mists of ignorance, in which such superstitions continued to linger, and among us, the very existence of such errors has already become matter of curiosity. The word Talisman, is of Arabic origin, and means, literally, figure. It is, in fact, the image, or figure, of some object deemed sacred, or otherwise appropriate, carved on wood, stone, leather, metal, or other substance, and was supposed to possess the power of protecting the owner or wearer, from danger, disease, or evil influence. The Egyptians used images of their gods, and sacred animals, as the ibis, the scarabæus*, &c.; the Greeks, little tablets inscribed with Ephesian words; the Romans had various idols and eccentric figures, which they usually wore suspended round the neck by chains; and the Turks and Arabians, to the present day, make use of sentences from the Koran. From the time of the middle ages downwards, the Roman Catholics have had their relics, consecrated candles, &c. The virtues attributed to the scarabæus, (says Moufet,) are so numerous, that they would scarcely be believed, if we could not put faith in what Pliny says, inasmuch as a scarabaeus carved on an emerald is a certain remedy against all poisons, nor is it less efficacious than the herb moly, which Mercury once gave to Ulysses. Nor is it only available against these, but it is of infinite service when worn in a ring, when any one wishes to obtain audience of a king, or to ask a favour of a great man. In some of the Mohammedan and pagan nations, the people still consider the art of writing as nearly allied to magic, and with them a scrap of paper with a few words written upon it, is an excellent charm or amulet. Our intrepid, but unfortunate fellow-countryman, Mungo Park, availed himself of this belief, when in a situation of great distress from fatigue and hunger, during his travels in Africa. A Negro, at whose house he lodged, applied to him for a charm of this sort. The man had been a slave to a Moor, and had embraced Mohammedanism, but afterwards returned to his own country, where he acted as a merchant; but, says Park, His knowledge of the world had not lessened that superstitious confidence in saphies, or charms, which he had imbibed in his earlier years; for when he heard I was a Christian, be immediately thought of procuring a saphie, and for this purpose brought out his walba, or writing board, assuring me he would dress me a supper of rice if I would write him a saphie to protect him from wicked men. The proposal was of too great consequence to me to be refused; I therefore wrote the board full from top to bottom on both sides, and my landlord, to be certain of having the whole force of the charm, washed the writing from the board into a calabash with a little water, and having said a few. prayers over it, drunk this powerful draught; after which, lest a single word should escape, he licked the board until it was quite dry. A saphie writer was a man of too great consequence to be long concealed: the important information was carried to the dooty, who sent his son with half a sheet of writingpaper, desiring me to write him a naphula saphie, (a charm to procure wealth.) He brought me as a present some meat and milk; and when I had finished the saphie, and read it to him with an audible voice, he seemed highly satisfied with his bargain, and promised to bring me in the morning some milk for my breakfast. * See Saturday Magazine, Vol. VII., p. 58 structed for the strangest purposes; one, for instance, the Hand of Glory, (fig. 3,) as it was called, was supposed to be a sure protection to robbers when committing their crimes; it is thus described : The Hand of Glory possesses much more dangerous properties, if it be true that robbers avail themselves of its power to cause sleep to overcome all the inmates of a house, that they Fig. 3. may be enabled to plunder with impunity. This is effected by holding the charm over each person. This talisman is the hand of a robber executed for his crime; the blood is to be first extracted, and then it is to be prepared with saltpetre and pepper, and dried in the sun; when perfectly dry, it is used as a candlestick, in which a candle is placed, formed of the fat of the culprit, white wax, and sesame seed. The belief in most of these strange and ridiculous errors existed much longer than it otherwise would have done, from the artificial importance with which they were clothed, in consequence of the soleınn endeavours of some learned writers to reason upon their properties, instead of treating the subject wit the contempt it deserved. LONDON: JOHN WILLIAM PARKER, WEST STRAND. PUBLISHED IN WEEKLY NUMBERS, PRICE ONE PENNY, AND IN MONTHLY PARTS, PRICE SIXPENCE. Sold by all Booksellers and Newsvenders in t Kingdom. |