came to Tchornaia two Russian officers, with
several sergeants, who were much more like Cossacks than regular
soldiers. Their appearance was the signal of universal mourning--they
came to recruit. They proclaimed, in the Emperor's name, that on a
certain day all the men in the district, whatever their age might be,
were to assemble in the public square, there to be inspected.

At the appointed day every one was on the spot; but it was easy to see
by their looks that it was with the utmost repugnance that they had
obeyed. All the women were placed on the other side, and anxiously
waited for the result of the inspection, and some of them were crying
bitterly. I was present at this scene. The officers placed the men in
two rows, and passed along the ranks very slowly. Now and then they
touched a man, and he was immediately taken to a little group that was
formed in the centre of the square. When they had run over the two rows,
they again inspected the men that had been set apart, made them walk and
strip, _verified_ them, in a word, such as our recruiting _councils_ did
in our departments for many years. When a man was examined he was
allowed to go, when the crowd raised a shout of joy; or he was
immediately put in irons, in presence of his family, who raised cries of
despair--this man was fit for service.

These unfortunate beings, thus chained up, were kept out of view till
the very moment of their departure. No claims were valid against the
recruiting officer; age, marriage, the duties required to be paid to an
infirm parent, were all of no avail; sometimes, indeed, it happened, and
that but rarely, that a secret arrangement with the officer, for a sum
of money, saved a young man, a husband, or a father from his caprice,
for he was bound by no rule; it often happened, also, that he marked out
for the army a young man whose wife or mistress was coveted by the
neighbouring lord, or whom injustice had irritated and rendered
suspected.

To finish this description, which has made me leave my friends out of
view, at a very melancholy period, I shall add a few more particulars.

Wassili, as I said before, was at the review; the recruiting officer
thought he would make a handsome dragoon, or a soldier of the guard,
and, having looked at him from top to toe, he declared him fit for the
army.

Whilst his family were deploring his fate, and preparing to make every
sacrifice to obtain his discharge, some one cried out that th