chologically speaking, a great gulf
fixed.

There are times when the reader of Russian fiction begins to wonder
whether he or the author is not a little off his mental balance, so
fantastic, so inconsequent, yet so insanely logical (so to put it) are
the beings with whom he finds himself surrounded--beings, however,
evidently and bewilderingly human, so that though they may appear
scarcely in their right minds (as we should judge our compatriots), they
can never be mistaken for mere figures of sawdust and plaster such as
people extensive realms of Western fiction. It is the reality of the
characters, coupled with their eccentric demeanour (the most humdrum
Slav appears wildly original to the inexperienced Anglo-Saxon), that
stirs anxiety.

Would "Mademoiselle Sophie" be like one of these erratic creations, or
would she resemble the heroines of Russian political history whose
marvellous courage and endurance excite the wonder of all who can even
dimly realise what it must be to live from moment to moment in imminent
peril of life and limb, and in ceaseless anxiety as to the fate of
relatives and friends? Of all the trials that "Mademoiselle Sophie" went
through, this last, she told me, was the worst. The absolute silence,
the absolute ignorance in which she had to pass her days, seemed to have
broken her wonderful spirit more than any other hardship.

It is not every day in the Nineteenth century that one comes in contact
with a human being who has had to submit to the "ordeal by fire" in this
literal mediaeval fashion; who has endured perils, insults, physical
privations and torments, coupled with intense and ceaseless anxiety for
years; and this in extreme youth before the troubles and difficulties of
life have more gradually and gently taught the lessons of endurance and
silent courage that probably have to be learnt by all who are destined
to develop and gather force as they go, and not to dwindle and weaken,
as seems to be the lot of those less fortunate in circumstance or less
well-equipped at birth for the struggles that in one form or another
present themselves in every career.

Russia is a nation that may almost be said to have preserved to this day
the conditions of the Middle Ages. It affords, therefore, to the curious
an opportunity for the study of the effect upon human character of these
conditions. Here are still retained, to all intents and purposes, the
thumbscrew and the rack; indeed, this is the ca