He had the same extreme susceptibility to the moods of nature. He
loved her first for herself, and then with a sense of those
inherited primitive associations with her scenes and hid
influences which still play upon us to-day; and nothing could be
surer than the wilder or tamer glimpses which are seen in this
book and in its landscape settings of the characters. But Russ as
he is, he never lets his scenery hide his people: he only uses it
to enhance them. He is too great an artist to lose a human trait,
as we see even in a grotesque vignette like that of Fomishka and
Fimishka, or a chance picture like that of the Irish girl once
seen by Solomin in London.

Turgenev was born at Orel, son of a cavalry colonel, in ISIS. He
died in exile, like his early master in romance Heine--that is in
Paris-on the 4th of September, 1883. But at his own wish his
remains were carried home and buried in the Volkoff Cemetery, St.
Petersburg. The grey crow he had once seen in foreign fields and
addressed in a fit of homesickness

"Crow, crow,
You are grizzled, I know,
But from Russia you come;
Ah me, there lies home!"

called him back to his mother country, whose true son he remained
despite all he suffered at her hands, and all the delicate
revenges of the artistic prodigal that he was tempted to take.

E. R.