supposed    will    of  the Tadebtsois: advises how a   stray   reindeer    may be  recovered,
or  the disease of  the Samojede    worshipper  relieved,   or  the fisherman’s labour
may secure  a   plenteous   “harvest    of  the sea.”
The  Tadibe’s    office  is  usually     hereditary;     but     occasionally    some    outsider,
predisposed  by  nature  to  hysteric    manifestations,     and     gifted  with    a   warm,
irregular    imagination,    is  initiated   into    its     mysteries.  His     morbid  fancy   is
intensified by  long    solitary    self-communings and protracted  fasts   and vigils; and
his frame   debilitated by  the use of  pernicious  narcotics   and stimulants, until   he
comes   to  believe that    he  has been    visited by  the spirits.    He  is  then    received    as  a
Tadibe,  with    numerous    ceremonies,     which   take    place   at  midnight,   and     is
invested    with    the magic   drum.   It  is  evident,    therefore,  that    the Tadibe, if  he
deceive others, is  the victim  to  some    extent  of  self-deception. But,    in  order   to
impose   upon    his     ignorant    countrymen,     he  does    not     disdain     to  resort  to  the
commonest    cheats  of  the     conjuror.   Among   these   is  the     notorious   rope-trick,
introduced  into    England by  the performers  known   as  the “Davenport  Brothers,”
and since   repeated    by  so  many    “professional   artists.”   With    hands   and feet    to  all
appearance  securely    fastened,   he  sits    down    on  a   carpet  of  reindeer    skin,   and,    the
lights  being   put out,    summons the spirits to  his assistance. Their   presence    is
speedily    made    known   by  singular    noises; squirrels   seem    to  rustle, snakes  to  hiss,
bears   to  growl.  At  length  the disturbance ceases; the lights  are rekindled;  and the
Tadibe  steps   forward unbound;    the spectators  of  course  believing   that    he  has
been    assisted    by  the Tadebtsois.
Not  less    barbarous   than    the     poor    creatures   who     submit  to  his     guidance,   the
Tadibe   is  incapable,  and     probably    not     desirous,   of  improving   their   moral
condition.   Similar     impostors,  claiming    and     exercising  a   similar     spiritual
dictatorship,—Schamans,  as  the     Tungusi     call    them,   Angekoks    among   the
Eskimos,    Medicine-men    among   the Crees   and Chepewyans,—we  find    among   all
the Arctic  tribes  of  the Old and New World,  where   their   authority   has not been
overthrown   by  Christianity    or  Buddhism;   and     this    dreary  superstition    still
prevails    over    at  least   half    a   million of  souls,  from    the White   Sea to  the extremity
of  Asia,   and from    the Pacific to  Hudson’s    Bay.
Like    the peoples of  Siberia,    the Samojedes   offer   up  sacrifices  to  the dead,   and
perform various ceremonies  in  their   honour. Like    the North   American    Indians,
they    believe that    the desires and pursuits    of  the departed    continue    exactly the
same    as  if  they    were    still   living; and hence,  that    they    may not be  in  want    of
weapons or  implements, they    deposit in  or  about   the graves  a   sledge, a   spear,  a
knife,  an  axe,    a   cooking-pot.
