Vologda is a pretty town, but we did not prolong our stay in it beyond a few weeks, being desirous of returning to Archangel to make our preparations for proceeding to St. Petersburg. There is nothing very remarkable in the place. We made several acquaintances among the Germans, Russians, and Poles, of whom the inhabitants chiefly consist; among the latter was a most amiable Polish lady, who, together with her husband, had been banished thither for some political offence. I shall never forget the pride and exultation with which she presented her son, a lad of about ten years old, saying “that he could not speak a word of Russian,” and that she took every care to prevent him from learning the hated accents of the Muscovite. It was then that I learnt that it was a general custom of the government to banish into the interior of Russia those Poles who wore suspected or convicted of minor political faults, the more grave crimes being punished by an exile into Siberia. I have since met with those Polish offenders in many places, and I must say that, as far as it has been in my power to ascertain the fact, they have been well and kindly received even at the Governor’s table, nor would any one imagine that their stay in the place was compulsory. It is now ten years since I first went to Russia, and I have resided there until the last three months, not living like a stranger in the land, but in the closest intimacy with Russian families, and I willingly bear witness to their general hospitality and kindness of heart, not towards the rich alone, for a well-educated person, let his circumstances be what they may, is always well received. The ladies are most amiable and polite; they are, however, often accused of want of sincerity, but, in my opinion, unjustly so. We are too apt to judge foreigners by ourselves, and think that they ought not to utter sentiments that they do not feel; but the fact is, what they mean only as expressions of every-day civility, we translate literally into those of regard, and hence our false estimate of their character. A Russian lady will say, on your being introduced, “that she is delighted at having the advantage of your acquaintance,” “that she has much esteem for you,” and so on; all of which is only very kindly meant to put you at your ease, and prevent you from being gênée in her house; but, in regard to real worth and goodness of heart, she is by no means deficient. In a thousand instances I have remarked acts of benevolence and charity that would do honour to the name of Russian, and serve to counterbalance grave faults and errors with which unfortunately they are mingled. Such must be expected in a nation on whom civilization was thrust at the sword’s point, and perhaps Peter the Great did his country more harm than good by obliging them to adopt the similitude of a state that ought gradually to be acquired. No civilization can be truly solid unless it be reached step by step through the weary road of experience.