The next day they proceeded to Elizabethsdorf, being escorted on the way by hospitable members of the settlements through which they passed. At Elizabethsdorf they were received by schoolmaster Seib, a brotherly Christian man, whose conversation was "seasoned with grace."
After tea, says John Yeardley. we held a devotional meeting, in which I had an opportunity to address the little company; but the people generally in the colonies are busy till late in the evening. Being much weary with our jolting journey, I retired to the waggon for the night, as I supposed; but W.R. soon came to inform me that a number of young persons, men and women, were come, it being as early as they could be liberated from their day's labor, to have some of our company. I sprang from the waggon with joy, and we had a delightful meeting, with a pretty large company. They sang repeatedly, and betweentimes I related to them something of my travels in Germany and Greece, with which they appeared wonderfully pleased. We were all served with tea out of doors, and the company remained together till after eleven o'clock, and then returned joyfully home.
I was much pleased with Seib. He and another schoolmaster, named Kapper, have been dismissed from their office of teacher, because of their holding private meetings and preaching in them, or explaining the Scriptures. Some of the Lutheran ministers are so lifeless that they will not allow the people to meet in private for their edification. The dead persecute the living, and light struggles with darkness. This is even the case in some districts among the Mennonites. The ministers fear that their people should go before them in religious light. The more I see of the one-man system, the more I prize the gospel liberty in my own beloved religious Society.
They returned to Neuhoffnung, and on the 13th went to Nicolai Schmidt's at Steinbach.
Attended the meeting there in the morning, and at Gnadenfeld in the evening, in both which places opportunity was given me to communicate what was in my heart for the people.
The settlements of the Molokans, consisting of three villages, each of about a thousand inhabitants, lie to the south of the German colonies. These people are native Russians and seceders from the Russo-Greek church; they receive their name from the word Moloko, milk, because they drink milk on fast-days, which is forbidden by the national religion. The Steppes are their Siberia, to which they have been banished. Their worship is simple, commencing with silence and prayer, and they do not use the ceremonies and discipline common among most other Christians; but they are firm believers in the Christian faith, and many of them are spiritually-minded people.
On the 15th John Yeardley and William Rasche, under the conduct of N. Schmidt, left Neuhoffnung to visit the Molokans. The first village they came to was Novo-Salifks, a prosperous colony in worldly matters, but said to be behind the others in spiritual life. At the next, Wasilowkov, they met with Terenti Sederhoff, the apostle of the Molokans, whose remarkable history J.Y. related in a tract called The Russian Peasant, forming No. 12 of his series. Here they also met with A. Stajoloff, who remembered William Allen's visit in 1819. Sederhoff accompanied them to the third village, Astrachanka, where they had a conversational meeting with several of the chief men, but the intercourse was carried on at a double disadvantage.
They spoke, says John Yeardley, nothing but Russ. T never regretted more the want of the language. Schmidt had a manifest unwillingness to interpret all I wanted to say, because it did not accord with his own sentiments, and he feared it might strengthen the people in those views from which the Mennonites would draw them. There was a precious feeling over us, and I felt assured they appreciated our motive in visiting them; they often pressed my hand when comparing Scripture texts on which we were of one mind. I felt satisfied in having done what I could to direct them in the right way, and to strengthen them in it. They are well read in the Scriptures.
The travellers passed the night at this village, sleeping as usual in their carriage; and the next day, taking a loving leave of their friends, directed their course over the steppes into the Crimea. Here they found themselves in the heart of the Tartar country, beyond the verge of civilized life.
The Tartar villages, says John Yeardley, are the meanest possible, consisting sometimes of mere holes dug in the earth, or huts standing a little above the ground. The men wear wide drawers with the pink shirt over them; the women have a chemise reaching to the calf of the leg, dirty and coarse, an apron round the waist, sometimes so scanty or so ragged that it will not meet, and a handkerchief tied in a slovenly manner on the head. In these three articles of dress they drive the horses and oxen; the sun burns them to a dark brown, almost black. The children we saw were quite naked. Various attempts have been made to civilize and instruct them, but without success. One missionary pursued the work so far as to feed and clothe the children, and collect them for instruction, which they received for a while, but all at once and with one consent it was at an end. When I see the Tartar galloping over the steppe as if riding on the wind, it constantly makes me think of the wild Arabs. When we are anxious to find a well of water where we may take our meal, and when we see travellers assembled to water their cattle and flocks, and the camels running loose on the steppes--which they do till autumn, when they are sought up for work,--all reminds us of customs of the East.