nger. The great hero Marko's horse even weeps,
when he feels that the death of his master approaches. Nay, life is
breathed even into inanimate objects by the imagination of Slavic
girls and youths. A Servian youth contracts a regular league of
friendship and brotherhood with a bramble-bush, in order to induce it
to catch his coy love's clothes, when she flees before his kisses.
Even the stars and planets sympathize with human beings, and live in
constant intercourse with them and their affairs. Stars become
messengers; a proud maiden boasts to be more beautiful than the sun;
the sun takes it ill, and is advised to burn her coal-black in
revenge. The moon hides herself in the clouds when the great Tzar
dies. One of the most interesting Servian tale, called "The Heritage,"
is the fruit of the moon and the morning star's gossiping with each
other. It begins thus:

To the morning star the moon spake chiding;
"Morning star, say where hast thou been wandering?
Where hast thou been wandering and where lingering,
Where hast thou three full white days been lingering?"

To the moon the morning star has answered;
"I've been wandering, I've three days been lingering,
O'er the white walls of the fortress Belgrade,
Gazing there on strange events and wonders."

The events which the star had witnessed, it now proceeds to relate to
the moon; and these make the subject of this beautiful tale.

After having touched upon these general features, did our limits
permit, we should speak more at large of those mythological beings of
a more distinct character, which belong to the individual Slavic
races; for example, the Vila of the Servians, the Russalki of the
Malo-Russians, and the like; at least so far as this belief is
interwoven in their poetry, the only respect in which it concerns us
here. But we must confine ourselves to a few brief remarks.

The strong and deeply-rooted superstitions of the Slavic nations are
partly manifest in their songs and tales; these are full of foreboding
dreams, and good or bad omens; witchcraft of various kinds is
practised; and a certain oriental fatalism seems to direct will and
destiny. The connection with the other world appears nevertheless much
looser, than is the case with the Teutonic nations. There is no trace
of spirits in Russian ballads; although spectres appear occasionally
in Russian nursery tales. In Servian, Bohemian, and Slovakian songs,
it occurs frequently, that the v