The pictures of the Russian husbandman might have been sketched in a Bengal rice-field, with the single change of plough bullocks for the Muscovite pony. 'I often saw a man sallying forth to his day's work, carrying his plough in one hand, and leading the little shaggy pony that was to draw it, with the other. This tool would startle a Lothian farmer, being little more than a strong forked stick, one point of which is shod with iron, and scratches the ground as the pony pulls it along, while the other is held in the {32} man's hand. The whole turn-out is very like representations I have seen in old pictures of the progress of domestic arts in the time of the Saxon Heptarchy. They do not seem to think that straight ploughing at all adds to the fertility of the soil, for they wander about in every direction, and score the ground as best suits their fancy. The animals are fed in the summer in the forest, and in winter are kept in the large stables attached to every cottage.'[6] [Footnote 6: Vol. ii, p. 38.] It may well be imagined that a mind trained on the Hayes standard of the responsibilities attached to property saw much that was painful in serf-life. Mr. Bourke admits, however, that the praedial bondsman, under a good master, lived 'free from want and care'; and compares the worst sort of the Russian nobles, governing 'by bad and cruel intendants, and regardless of aught but the money derived from their distant lands,' to the absentee proprietors of his own country. He describes the average serf as following some handicraft during the six winter months; tilling the ground and tending the flocks during the short summer; on the whole, well fed by his master, or enjoying a fair share of the produce of his toil, and with few wants beyond his log-hut, stove, and sheepskin; but 'languid, and rarely practising the athletic sports in which the peasants of other lands delight.'