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diff --git a/77805-0.txt b/77805-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b276c3 --- /dev/null +++ b/77805-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6369 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77805 *** + + + + + THE + MAINSPRINGS OF RUSSIA + + + BY + MAURICE BARING + + + THOMAS NELSON AND SONS + + LONDON, EDINBURGH, DUBLIN, LEEDS PARIS, LEIPZIG, AND NEW YORK + + + + + DEDICATION. + TO H. G. WELLS. + + +MY DEAR H. G., + +I dedicate this book to you in the hope that you will read it; for if +you do, I shall feel certain of having at least one reader who will +understand exactly what I have tried to say, however inadequate the +expression may have been, and who, at any rate, will not misunderstand +me. + +Not long ago I was looking on at a play in London. The audience was, on +the whole, of that kind which the Americans call “high-browed,” with a +certain sprinkling of the semi-intelligent and the wholly elegant. +Behind me were sitting a young man and a young lady, who were discussing +intellectual topics suited to the rarer atmosphere of that interesting +theatre. Among other subjects, they talked about Mr. Stephen Grahame’s +books and articles on Russia. I do not know if you have read his books; +if not, I advise you to do so. But you probably know that they deal with +the Russian people; that Mr. Grahame walked on foot from Moscow to +Archangel; and travelled, as a pilgrim, with Russian pilgrims to +Jerusalem. It is therefore obvious that he came into close contact with +the Russian people, and that his knowledge was at first hand and derived +from direct experience. + +Well, would you believe it, the highly educated young gentleman who was +sitting behind me, who had read Mr. Grahame’s books and articles, said—I +could hardly believe my ears, but he said it—that the trouble about Mr. +Grahame was his blind faith in _the Russian Bureaucracy_. I confess, +when these words caught my ear, I thought to myself what is the use of +writing books if intelligent people in reading them derive an impression +which is the exact opposite of that which you think you have expressed +with some clearness? + +The young man in question went on to say that such was Mr. Grahame’s +fierce faith in political reaction that he dared to compare a +half-starved Russian peasant with a free American citizen, and here +again he revealed fresh vistas of misapprehension. + +I have often had similar experiences myself since I began to write about +Russian things. I have at various times been accused of being a +revolutionary, a conservative, a liberal, a fanatical reactionary. But +these accusations have left me indifferent, since, as they contradict +themselves, they cancel out into nothingness. + +As far as the subject of Russia is concerned, I have always, and only, +had one object in view: to stimulate in others an interest which I have +myself experienced. I know—I cannot explain why it is—but I know that +between the Russian and the English peoples there are curious +possibilities of sympathy, curious analogies, and still more curious +differences which complement one another. I know the Russians and the +English do get on well when they meet and get to know each other. I know +the sympathy I myself have felt, and do feel, for the Russians is a +sympathy which would, can, and could be felt by many of my countrymen. +This has been my whole and sole object in writing about Russia. I am +engaged on one more very short book on Russian literature, and then I +shall drop the subject for ever. I have said my say. I leave it to the +newer and better writers to say theirs. + +But in the meantime, in regard to this book, I repeat I wish to secure +at least one reader who will understand and who will not misunderstand. +That is why I dedicate this book to you. At the same time I hope, even +if you do not read it, that it will remind you of the strenuous days and +the Attic nights which we spent together in St. Petersburg. + + Yours ever, + MAURICE BARING. + + ST. PETERSBURG, + _February 22-March 7, 1914_. + + + + + PREFACE. + + +I have endeavoured in this book to provide some kind of answer to the +questions which I found by experience are generally put by the traveller +who comes to Russia for the first time, and whose curiosity is +stimulated with regard to the way in which the people live and to the +manner of their government. + +I have endeavoured to convey to the reader a single idea of the nature +of the more important factors in Russian life. I am only too well aware +that what I have to supply in the way of explanation and elucidation is +inadequate, incomplete, and superficial. My excuse is that the questions +of the average inquirer are, as a rule, neither profound nor +comprehensive; and that profound or comprehensive replies, were I +capable of giving them—which I am not—would be received neither with +attention nor interest. They would be like arrows shot into empty space. +For the average inquirer has neither time nor inclination for exhaustive +inquiry or minute research. He wishes to be told what he wishes to know +in a manner he can understand, and as briefly as possible. But my hope +is that I may stimulate the interest of the reader in the subject, and +in a manner which may lead him to seek for more exhaustive information +at the fountainhead, or at richer sources than mine. This is every day +becoming easier. + +Some years ago books on Russia which had any serious value or +substantial interest were few and far between. Lately the interest in +Russian affairs has been stimulated by many causes: by the coming of +Russian artists, singers, and dancers to England; by the appearance in +the press of valuable articles written by Russian authors; by the +publication of adequate translations from Russian authors (Mrs. +Garnett’s translations of Dostoievsky, for instance); and by several +excellent books written by English authors on Russia, such as the books +of Mr. Stephen Grahame dealing with the Russian people, the admirable +and encyclopædic work of Mr. Harold Williams, and, in a somewhat lighter +vein, Mr. Reynold’s “My Russian Year.” All these books reveal a +standpoint, a mastery of the subject, that are far removed from the +fantastic, false, and melodramatic concoctions that were abundant some +years ago. + +In calling this book the “Mainsprings” of Russia, I am conscious of +having omitted several of the most important mainsprings of Russian +life: chief among them its commerce and industry. The subject is so +large that, had I dealt with it at all, there would have been no room +for anything else in a book of this size. Also, as far as the actual +facts are concerned they are to be found clearly stated in Dr. Kennard’s +excellent “Russian Year Book.” + +Nor have I attempted to deal with the Army and the Navy, which I +consider to be factors which are likely to be dealt with by experts, +since they cannot afford to be altogether neglected by foreigners. There +is another subject I have omitted—it is not, it is true, a mainspring of +Russian life; but it is a sore spot and a question of burning vital +interest—I mean the Jewish question. + +In a book as short as this it would be impossible to devote sufficient +space to the matter without crowding out other things which concern the +greater majority; but it is most desirable that competent observers +should deal with the Jewish question in Russia, which at present, as far +as the rest of Europe is concerned, is almost entirely handled either by +bitter Anti-Semites, or by those who are the actors in the drama itself. +And there is no question in Modern Russia which is fraught with more +far-reaching effects, and probably none which is at present more +difficult of solution. + +My thanks are due to A. J. Halpern of the Russian Bar for his valuable +help in regard to the chapter on “Justice,” to Mr. Dimitriev-Mamonov, +and to many other Russian friends for their criticism and advice. + + + + + CONTENTS. + + + I. RETROSPECT 13 + II. THE RUSSIAN PEASANT 31 + III. THE NOBILITY 72 + IV. THE GOVERNMENT MACHINE 97 + V. CAUSES OF DISCONTENT 129 + VI. THE AVERAGE RUSSIAN 155 + VII. THE LIBERAL PROFESSIONS 183 + VIII. THE RUSSIAN CHURCH 216 + IX. EDUCATION 246 + X. JUSTICE 269 + XI. THE FASCINATION OF RUSSIA 299 + + + + + THE MAINSPRINGS OF + RUSSIA. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + RETROSPECT. + + +I should like to set the reader’s mind at rest at once. I am not going +to ask him to read a historical treatise on the origins of the Russian +people, nor am I going to lead him into the obscure pathways and dim +shadows of the remote past. + +Firstly, even if I wished to do so, I have not the necessary erudition, +nor the requisite powers of learned exposition. Secondly, the origin of +the Russian people is a debatable question; the theories with regard to +it are constantly changing, and vary with the fickle fashion of the day; +the orthodox views of forty, of thirty, of twenty years ago are now said +to be old-fashioned; and the orthodox views of to-day will probably be +considered old-fashioned before very long. The reason being that all +such views are highly conjectural, and that very little is known about +the shifting tides, eddies, and currents in the immeasurably far-off +floods of races and tribes out of which the Russian people emerged. + +Thirdly, whenever I open a book that begins with a historical +retrospect, I feel that it is the reader’s duty to skip that chapter. + +Why, then, write anything of the kind? The answer is that I am writing +on the assumption that the reader is an average reader, and that if he +has bought or borrowed a book about Russia, he will be sufficiently +interested in the subject to be able to stand a few simple facts to +begin with, even if they are historical. I also assume that, if he has +bought or borrowed this book, and has not gone to a public library to +get a more learned book, he is not a specialist—that is to say, he knows +as much or as little as the average Englishman knows about Russia who +has received an average English education, who reads _The Times_, and +takes a moderate but intelligent interest in international politics and +foreign countries, and who has perhaps read one or two standard books on +Russia, and not only _My Official Wife_ by Savage, _Michael Strogoff_ by +Jules Verne, and all that picturesque tribe of books called either Red +Russia, Scarlet Russia, Crimson Russia, Free Russia, the Real Russia, +Russia as she is, or Russia as she isn’t. + +There is also another class of reader who may take up the book, also an +average reader, with an average education, but whose knowledge of Russia +is of a different and wider kind—the reader of translations of Russian +novels, the devotee of Tolstoy and Turgeniev and Gorky; the man or +woman—it is generally a woman—who has seen translations of Chekhov’s +plays at the Stage Society, and who is a fervent admirer of the Russian +ballet. He or she is interested in Russia, but has never been there; and +although familiar with Russian novels and plays, he or she is more +inclined to form an opinion of the Russian people on data derived from +English novels on Russian life than from Russian novels on Russian life. + +I have often come across cases of this kind—I mean people who do not +appear to realize that the intensely realistic Russian fiction that they +so much admire probably has some basis and counterpart in real life, and +who, in spite of this documentary evidence with regard to Russian life, +with which they are familiar, still continue to form a picture of +Russian life based on English fiction such as is written by English +journalists and novelists. + +Such readers, my experience is, if they come across certain historical +facts about Russia in the past or the present, meet them with a shock of +surprise and often with a smile of incredulity. + +It is for the benefit of the average reader of every kind that I want to +try and make a few, a very few, historical facts clear, which I think +throw light on any attempt to deal with any aspects of Russian life. If +the reader knows them too well already, he will forgive me and skip, +proud of his superior knowledge; if he disbelieves them, he can dispute +them, and prove me wrong. + +My first fact is geographical. It is that Russia is a flat country, +without an indented seacoast, and without sharp mountain ranges. It is +not only flat but uniform. Owing to this, the expansion of the Russian +people took place on land. The Russians were, and are, constantly +emigrating, at first from south to north, and afterwards from west to +east. Russia is therefore a country of colonists. + +I remember once saying this to a man to whom the statement evidently +came as a shock of surprise, because he replied, “Really, I thought +Russia was an autocracy.” + +Now, who are these colonists? Who are the Russians, in fact? I wonder if +one set this question to all the schoolboys and undergraduates, what the +most prevalent answer would be. I believe it would be something like +this: that the Russian was a man got up like a European except in +winter, but that if you scratched him you would find a Tartar, and that +a Tartar was a man with a yellow skin and a snub nose. I think you might +also often get the answer that Russians were Slavs; but that if you +asked what a Slav is, you would be told he was a kind of Tartar. + +In Russia at the present day you will find representatives of every kind +of race and every kind of creed—Buriats who worship Buddha, and +disciples of the late Lord Radstock—and every kind of language; but out +of all these, three dominant races played a part in Russian history—the +Finns, the Tartars, and the Slavs. The Slavs got the best of it. They +absorbed the Finns and ousted the Tartars. + +So we remain face to face with the question, What are the Slavs? As to +how, why, whence, and when the Slavs came to Russia hundreds of books +have been written, and the solution of the problem is, I believe, like +that of many historical questions, a matter of fashion. + +One solid fact, however, rises before our grateful comprehension. The +Slavs are a white people like the Latins, the Celts, and the Germans; +they have nothing in common with anything Tartar, Mongol, or Semitic; +and there are traces of them having been in Southern Europe on the banks +of the Vistula and of the Dnieper from time immemorial. + +Having got to Russia a long time ago, they overran the country and +absorbed it. + +They began in the south, the capital being Kiev, and in the eleventh +century Russia was a part of the political system of Europe. + +Russia, in the days before William the Conqueror—in the days of Harold, +who was related to one of the rulers of Kiev, Yaroslav—was not more +backward than France or England were at that time, and would probably +have developed in the same manner as the other European countries had it +not been for an unfortunate interruption in the shape of a Mongol or +Tartar invasion. + +From the thirteenth to the sixteenth century Russia was under the +dominion of the Mongols. + +The Slavs, as they gradually expanded and absorbed Russia, fell into two +natural divisions: the Great Russians and the Little Russians, which +correspond to the north and the south. When the Mongol invasion came +about, the Little Russians were cut off from the Great Russians. + +The Great Russians continued to expand northward, southward, and +eastward. They were engaged in a perpetual struggle against the East. +They acted as a buffer for Europe against the East; and in the sixteenth +century they finally got rid of the Eastern yoke altogether and drove +them out of the country. + +This is the big fact I have been leading up to: Russia saved Western +Europe from being overrun by hordes of barbarians. + +“There is,” writes the late Mr. Stead, in the introduction to the +translation of Labaume’s narrative of Napoleon’s campaign, “a strange +and pestilent habit among some Englishmen of ignoring all the great +services which Russia has rendered to the cause of human progress and +the liberty of nations.” + +That Russia acted as a buffer against the barbarian invasion from the +East is the first and not the least of these services. + +In the sixteenth century the Great Russia was a kingdom centralized in +Moscow, chiefly engaged in fighting her neighbours, the most powerful of +which was Poland, and one of the most energetic and singular of her +rulers, Ivan the Terrible, began to negotiate with the West. Ivan, in +fact, wished to marry Queen Elizabeth; but Western Europe was not +vitally affected by Russia until the appearance on the stage of the +world of that extraordinary monarch, and still more extraordinary man, +called Peter the Great. + +Peter the Great not only conceived and executed the idea of opening in +Russia a window on to the West, but he restored to Russia her place +among European nations—the place she had occupied in the eleventh +century, and which she had lost owing to the Mongol invasion. + +It was no abnormal or unnatural mission that Peter the Great set out to +accomplish, otherwise his work would have died with him. He carried +Russia along the natural road of her career. Only, being a man of +abnormal genius, he gave to Russia a violent electric shock; he +accelerated to an extent, which seems little short of miraculous, the +natural progress of the country. He accomplished in a few years the work +of many generations. “Pierre I^{er},” says Montesquieu, “donnait les +mœurs et les manières de l’Europe à une nation de l’Europe.” He shifted +the capital of the country, built St. Petersburg on a swamp, created an +army, a fleet, enrolled quantities of foreigners into the service of +Russia. He sketched the outlines of a gigantic plan, which still remains +to be filled in to this day. The violence and fury with which he +compelled a reluctant people to adopt his changes had, of course, its +drawbacks. A nation has to pay for a man of genius, even when he is +working on the right lines, for what is for the good of his country, and +for what is, in the long run, in accordance with its national spirit. + +Peter the Great was successful, but the methods which he had to employ +in order to bring about his swift and gigantic changes were not without +regrettable results, which are still visible in the machinery of Russian +administration and in the nature of many Russian institutions. He found +Russia a sleepy kingdom encrusted with Oriental habit and Byzantine +tradition; he hacked off that crust with an axe, and he left Russia open +to the influences of Europe, and ready to value the place which was her +due amongst the nations of Europe. + +His work was carried on by Catherine II. on the same lines, and further. +She opened educated Russia to European ideas; she civilized Russia +intellectually; and Russia, under her guidance, took a leading part in +the European Concert. + +But it was later that Russia was destined to play a part which vitally +affected every nation of Western Europe. This was in 1812. In 1812 +Russia broke up the power of Napoleon. + +“Leipzig and Waterloo were but the corollaries,” writes Mr. Stead, “of a +solved problem.” + +“It is an incontestable fact,” writes M. Rambaud, the French historian +of Russia, “that of all the allies, Russia showed herself the least +grasping. It was she who had given the signal for the struggle against +Napoleon, and had shown most perseverance in pursuit of the common end. +Without her example the states of Europe would never have dreamed of +arming against him. Her skilful leniency towards France finished the +work begun by the war.” + +So far, all these facts I have mentioned concern the relations of Russia +to Europe; they necessarily reacted on the internal conditions of the +country. + +The fact that Russia was playing an important part abroad meant that the +means by which this part could be played had to be furnished at home, +and the finding of such means affected the administration of the country +and the whole of its population. + +In order that Russia should be able to play a part in Europe, the first +thing that was necessary was an army. + +Peter the Great made an army (and a fleet). How did he do it? Where did +the officers and men come from? + +When Peter the Great came to the throne, the organization of the State +was patriarchal. There was practically no standing army except a kind of +corps of janissaries, the _streltsy_ (which he destroyed). There were +two classes: the nobility and the peasants. The nobility held the land +and the peasants tilled it; but the nobility held the land on one +condition only, and that was that they should render military service in +their own person when it was necessary. + +The nobles were at the same time landowners and servants of the State, +but they were landowners only on condition of being State servants. + +The peasants belonged to the land; they were attached to the land and +could not be separated from it. This is what serfdom meant in Russia. +Serfdom was not an immemorial institution in Russia. It was not a relic +of paganism or barbarism; it was founded neither on conquest, nor on the +habit of turning the captives made in inter-tribal wars into slaves, nor +on a difference of race or colour; and unless this be understood, unless +the true nature of this serfdom be realized, it is impossible to +understand the part which the Russian peasantry play in the Russian +nation. + +Briefly, serfdom came about thus. The peasants cultivated the land which +the monarch conceded to the nobles as a salary or means of subsistence +in return for military service. But up till about the end of the +sixteenth century the peasants could choose and change their masters, +and pass from one estate to another. They used, in fact, to exercise +their right of transfer once a year, on St. George’s Day. + +At the end of the sixteenth century labour was precious and rare, and +eagerly sought after by the nobles. The peasants were naturally inclined +to emigrate, and the more adventurous were attracted towards the regions +of the Don, the Kama, the Volga, and Siberia, and they thus avoided +paying taxes. Moreover, the larger landed proprietors attracted the +peasants to their estates to the detriment of the smaller landed +proprietors. The primitive fiscal system of that day suffered from all +this, and as a remedy to this state of things, in order to guarantee and +regularize the financial and military supplies of the State, the peasant +was attached to the soil. In 1593, in the reign of Feodor, the son of +Ivan the Terrible, and owing to the initiative of Boris Godonnov, the +right of transfer from one estate to another was first temporarily taken +away from the peasant. The prohibition to transfer their service on this +date was renewed by several sovereigns, and was finally crystallized in +the law of the country. Once attached to the soil the peasant gradually +lost his civil rights and became the chattel of the proprietor; thus +what began by being a simple police measure ended by becoming organized +slavery. Such was the state of things when Peter the Great came to the +throne. The peasant was attached to the soil, the nobility were the +army, for when an army was needed they had to fight themselves and to +supply so many men into the bargain. + +Peter the Great wanted a standing army; and in order to get one, and at +the same time to carry on the administration of the country, he created, +or rather enlarged, the system of universal service. Every single +Russian became a public servant. Henceforward it became obligatory for +the noble to serve the State either in the military or the civil +service—always, and not only in times of war. Moreover, in order to be +an officer he had to pass an examination, and if he failed to pass it he +had to serve as a private soldier. Further, in order to get enough +soldiers, a system of conscription was introduced; that is to say, in +every place, out of so many thousand men, so many were taken. + +Again, the nobility ceased to be a closed caste depending on hereditary +titles; it became a class of State servants, and was thrown open to all. +Rank depended on service. Instead of obtaining a post because you were a +noble, you became a noble for having attained by service to such and +such a post. Rank in service became the only rank. Thus Peter the Great, +in order to create a standing army, created a standing civil service; he +destroyed the principle of hereditary aristocracy; and both branches of +the universal service he created, military and civil, were divided into +its fourteen grades or _tchins_, hence the word _tchinnovnik_, the +ordinary Russian word for official. Again, as he was constantly going to +war, and constantly needed men, and the nobility had to supply so many +men from their land, he tightened the bonds which attached the peasants +to the soil. He strengthened the system of serfdom; and the rulers who +succeeded him carried on the same policy, because the revenue depended +on the State being administered by the landed gentry, which gradually +ceased to be an aristocratic caste, and kept on increasing in size, +until towards the end of the reign of Catherine II., when it had grown +to be a vast bureaucracy. + +It is clear that, if the great majority of the landed proprietors were +engaged in administrating the country, they would have less and less +time to look after their estates after the old patriarchal fashion; and +it is also clear that as civilization progressed everything in the +machinery of the State necessarily increased in size. Men were needed to +deal with the more complicated machinery; with the administration of +finances, of justice, and of the police. The men who filled all the new +posts created by the ever increasing complication of the administration +of the State were the former landed proprietors, the actual officials. +The consequence was they ceased to be able to look after their land. +This being so, there was no defence left against the growing moral +sentiment which had risen against serfdom, namely: the moral principle +that it was wrong that peasants should be in the position of cattle and +chattels. This sentiment was expressed more than once by the peasants +themselves in mutinies. It was expressed from the outside by all that +was enlightened in the country. + +The Emperor Alexander I. took the first steps towards the great reform +by liberating the serfs in the Baltic provinces. It is said that his +brother, the Emperor Nicholas, on his deathbed left the execution of the +reform as a solemn legacy to his son and successor, Alexander II. The +Crimean War was the actual shock which brought the reform about. +Literature was a powerful factor in pressing it on. Writers of genius, +such as Gogol and Turgeniev, by their descriptions; publicists, such as +Samarin and Herzen, by their pleading, played a large part in +accelerating its advent. They gave expression to what was the universal +and imperative opinion of thinking Russia, so that the reform when it +came about, and when the serfs were liberated in 1861, was the work of +the nation as well as of the Emperor. + +This retrospect has brought us to the year 1861. Since then many +momentous things have happened to Russia. A war; the inauguration of a +system of local self-government; another war; and if not a revolution, a +revolutionary movement, a long and vital crisis, out of which rose the +beginnings of popular representation. But these events, in so far as +they deal with Russian life as it is to-day, will be dealt with in the +subsequent chapters. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + THE RUSSIAN PEASANT. + + +The Russian peasant is the most important factor in Russian life. He +constitutes the majority of the nation. The peasant not only tills the +arable land, but he owns the greater part of it. This is a fact which is +practically unknown in England. There was once an anarchist Russian who +gave a lecture to the poor in the East End of London on the wrongs of +the Russian people. In the course of the lecture he declared with +fervent indignation that no peasant in Russia could own more than so +many acres of land. Upon which the audience cried “Shame!” The irony of +this is piercing when one reflects that not one member of that audience +had ever owned, or could ever in his wildest dreams look forward to +owning, a particle of arable soil. + +The average reader, who has some vague notions of Russia, probably +thinks of the Russian peasant as a serf, and as such a scarcely +civilized savage—a little better than a beast. It has already been +mentioned in the preceding chapter that serfdom in Russia was not a +slavery resulting from conquest or difference in race and colour, but +the outcome of economic conditions. Serfdom was a measure by which the +peasant, who had a tendency to wander, was made fast to the land, +because if he wandered the State was threatened with economic ruin; +moral slavery, and the ownership of the peasant by the landowner, were +the ultimate results of this economic measure. When the legislation +which ultimately produced serfdom was framed, it was not regarded by +those who framed it as a permanent solution of the relations between +landowner and peasant, but only as a temporary makeshift. The +result—namely, slavery—was unforeseen. + +Now, the peasants never, through nearly two centuries of slavery, lost +sight of the fact that this legislation was only a temporary makeshift, +a stroke of opportunism. Moreover, they kept fast hold of the idea that +the land was theirs; that the land belonged to the people who tilled it; +and that if for a time it was in the hands of landowners, that was +because the emperor was obliged to lend it to the landowners, in order +to pay them for such military service which the destinies of the +fatherland rendered indispensable. + +In 1861 came the emancipation of the serfs, and this emancipation did +not merely mean the end of the personal and moral slavery of the +peasant, but something far more important also—namely, that a portion of +the land which the peasant considered to be his by right was restored to +him. The emancipation of the serfs was an act of State expropriation. +More than 130,000,000 _desiatines_ of land (350,964,187 acres) passed +from the hands of the landowners into the hands of the peasants for +ever. On an average each peasant received from 8¼ to 11 acres; in the +north he might receive more, in the south less. The nobility—that is to +say, the landowners—were paid down by the Government for the land they +had given up; the peasants had to pay back the State in instalments, +over a period of more than fifty years. The State acted as banker to +both parties, and not only paid the landowners ready money, but advanced +the money to the peasants. The peasant had to pay back the money +advanced to him at an interest of six per cent. over a period of +forty-nine years, until the year 1910. + +In 1907 these payments were cancelled. + +The peasants, after the emancipation, were to continue to own the land +in common, as they had always done before. + +In the days of serfdom every landowner possessed so much land, and the +serfs—or, as they were called, “the souls”—who belonged to it. After the +emancipation, each batch of serfs belonging to each separate owner +became a separate and independent community, which owned land in common. +The land which was thus owned in common could not be redistributed more +than once every twelve years, and even then only if two-thirds of the +village assembly voted for redistribution. A similar majority was +necessary before any of the common land could become private property. + +All the land which was fit for cultivation was divided amongst the +peasants, according to the number of taxed members in each household. +But as the nature of the soil varied with its situation, and was richer +in one place than another, or was more or less advantageous owing to +other reasons—say its proximity or distance from the village—instead of +receiving all his share of the land in one place, each taxed member in +every household received so many strips of land in different places, so +that the division might be fair. + +Supposing the land to be divided amongst Tom, Dick, and Harry was good +in some parts, bad in another, and indifferent in a third, and each was +to receive an acre: Tom would receive a third in the good part, a third +in the bad part, and a third in the indifferent part, and Dick and Harry +would fare likewise. When the land was redistributed, the share received +by each household varied as that household increased or diminished in +numbers. + +From 1861, the year of the emancipation, until 1904, the year of the +Russo-Japanese War, the only change of importance in the peasant system +of land tenure was made in the reign of Alexander III. A clause was +introduced into the legislation on peasant land tenure which made it +impossible for the peasant to buy himself out of the Commune. This +clause was added in 1890. It was done because the Government at this +period looked on the peasants as a safe conservative element, and +considered that communal ownership of land fostered conservatism. During +all this period agriculture had not improved, but had deteriorated. Half +the landowners in Russia disappeared, and their place was taken by the +peasants or by the merchants. The remaining landowners either let their +land to the peasants, or tried (and for the most part failed) to farm it +rationally. + +In 1904 came political unrest and universal political discontent. And +amongst the peasants this discontent was expressed by one formula, and +one formula alone—“Give us more land.” Agrarian riots took place all +over Russia, and landowners’ houses were burnt and their cattle +destroyed. + +Universal expropriation was brought forward as a political measure, but +economically it was felt by those who had faced the question practically +to be no remedy, except in regard to the land which was let by the +landowners to the peasants. + +Nevertheless, something had to be done. All over Russia every landowner +sold a certain amount of land to the peasants, and a great part of the +land which had been hitherto let to the peasants, and not farmed by the +landowner himself, became the peasants’ property. In 1905, roughly +speaking, twenty-five per cent. of the amount of land still belonging to +landowners passed into the hands of the peasants. + +In 1910 another great change came about. Owing to a law, drawn up at the +initiative of P. A. Stolypin, the peasant obtained the right of leaving +the Commune, and of converting his share of the land into his individual +and permanent property. He could, moreover, exchange his separated +strips of land for a corresponding amount of land which should be as far +as possible all in one place. And if he wished to do this, and to start +a farm, he could receive financial assistance from the State. + +On paper, nothing could be more satisfactory, the situation seeming to +be this—that the peasant is able to leave the Commune if he wishes and +become an independent peasant proprietor, but he is not compelled to do +so. The idea was expressed at the time of the emancipation of the serfs +by the men who drafted the law of reform, that it was desirable to leave +the question of communal tenure to settle itself. And the same idea was +reasserted by the Russian ministry, when the Bill on peasant land tenure +was introduced into the Duma—namely, that it would be wrong either to +bolster up the Commune artificially, or to destroy it, and that the +right course was to leave the population itself free to settle in every +individual case whether it wishes to remain in the Commune or not. + +Practically this is not what has happened. Practically, both owing to +certain clauses in the law itself, and owing to the manner of its +application, pressure has been put on the peasants to leave the Commune. +The law works advantageously for those who leave the Commune, +disadvantageously for those who wish to remain in the Commune. To +explain how this happens would entail going into many technical points. +To those who are interested in this subject, I would recommend an +article in _The Russian Review_ of November 1912, by Alexander Manuilov, +a member of the Russian Council of Empire. + +But if it is too lengthy a task to explain how this is so, it is easy in +a few sentences to explain why this is so. + +The law on land tenure was made by the bureaucracy. The bureaucracy has +always treated the peasant question from a political point of view. When +the communal system seemed to lead to conservatism, the bureaucracy +backed up the communal system (this was so, as I have already said, in +the reign of Alexander III., and indeed made it impossible for the +peasant to leave the Commune); when after 1904 the communal system +seemed to encourage socialistic ideas, or to be made a basis for +socialistic ideas, the bureaucracy backed up individual land tenure. +Moreover, in the law itself and in the manner of its application the +minority (those who wish to leave the Commune) are backed up at the +expense of the majority, because by so doing the Government considered +they were creating good sound conservative voters. + +In spite of this pressure, and perhaps because of it (although in some +parts of Russia they have displayed eagerness to become the permanent +owners of their respective strips of land), up till 1910, only four per +cent. of the peasantry availed themselves of the right to exchange their +strips for an allotment in one place; and up till January 1, 1912, the +Communes who petitioned for deeds numbered only 4,656; and out of 45,994 +Communes, only 174,193 petitions were forthcoming, which shows a +proportion of one in every three or four. + +It is, of course, too soon to generalize on the result of such recent +legislation. Comparisons and analogies with similar legislation in other +countries—such as Ireland, for instance—would be misleading, for the +existence of the Commune is peculiar in Russia. At the present moment +the Russian peasant owns land. He either owns strips in the land +belonging to the Commune, shares which are liable to periodical +redistribution, or else he has become the permanent owner of his strips, +or else he has exchanged them for an allotment and started a farm. + +At the present moment the peasants own by far the greater part of the +arable land in Russia, and every family owns in arable land at least six +acres; and on an average in the densely populated districts, at least 10 +acres. In the more thinly populated districts of the north and south, +the average increases. + +It is clear then that the peasant is an important unit, the most +important unit in the nation. It is well then to look into the nature of +this important unit, and to see what kind of being he is, and what are +the mainsprings of his conduct. + +At the outset there probably exists certain preconceived notions which +it is as well to get rid of at once. + +The first of these is that there is anything servile about the Russian +peasant because during two centuries he endured serfdom. “In spite of +the period of serfdom through which he has passed,” writes Sir Charles +Eliot in his _Turkey in Europe_—and Sir Charles Eliot possesses +first-hand knowledge of Russia—“the Russian muzhik is not servile; he +thinks of God and the Tsar in one category, and of the rest of the world +as more or less equal in another.” + +And Dostoievsky, in writing about Pushkin, says that one of this poet’s +chief claims to greatness is that he recognized the intrinsic quality of +self-respect in the Russian people, which they proved by the manly +dignity of their behaviour when they were liberated from serfdom. + +The Russian people, in spite of centuries of serfdom, with the exception +of individual instances, were not and never have been slaves. + +So much, I think, can be stated without fear of contradiction or +controversy. Before going any further I want to clear the ground a +little. The reader must be prepared to find, not only in foreign books +about Russia, but in Russian books about Russia, and to meet with in +conversation not only from foreigners who have travelled and lived in +Russia, but in conversation with the Russians themselves, widely +divergent and contradictory ideas and opinions with regard to the nature +of the Russian peasant. He will hear on one side that he is intelligent, +on the other that he is crassly obtuse. On the one hand that he is +humane, on the other hand that he is brutal. He will find in Russian +literature that by some writers he is exalted as the salt of the earth +and the solution of life, and that by others he is decried as a +hopeless, inert mass of ignorance and prejudices. M. Leroy Beaulieu in +his _Empire des Tsars_ tells a story of how once, when he was travelling +on the Volga, a “lady said to him, ‘How can you bother yourself about +our muzhik? he is a brute, out of which nobody will ever be able to make +a man;’ and how on the same day a landed proprietor said to him, ‘I +consider the _contadino_ of North Italy to be the most intelligent +peasant in Europe, but our muzhik could give him points.’” + +Further, most Russians will tell you that the peasant will rarely give +himself away, and that to the outside observer of another class he +probably is, and will always remain, a sealed book. The net result of +all this is that readers may justly say to me, “And what can you know +about the subject?” And it is to this very question that I think I owe +some sort of reply before continuing to say anything else about the +nature of the Russian peasant. + +My claims to be in a position to say certain things which I have got +first hand about the Russian peasant are not, it is true, great; but I +believe them to exist. They do not rest on what is called erudition. I +am no expert in the difficult problems, economic and others, which are +connected with the life of the Russian peasantry; but it so happens that +I have been thrown together, so to speak, with the Russian peasant under +peculiar circumstances. During the years I have spent in Russia I have +made friends with peasants in various places, and have often in +travelling had much talk and intercourse with them. But it is not +chiefly on that that I base my observations—it is on this: that being in +Manchuria during the greater part of the Russo-Japanese War, as I +drifted about from one part of the army to another I was thrown together +with the Russian soldier, who is a peasant, often on terms of absolute +equality; that is to say, I was to him no longer a _barin_ (one of the +upper classes), but a kind of camp follower, of which there were +multitudes in Manchuria during the war—a man who, in their eyes, had a +_barin_ himself. On one occasion I was asked where my _barin_ (master) +was, and when I said I was my own _barin_, the peasant who was talking +to me said he thought I was just a common man. Thus on many occasions I +met, travelled with, and bivouacked with soldiers on their own footing, +and shared their food, lodging, and talk _on equal terms_. And it was +this experience which gave me glimpses into things, and an insight into +certain manners and customs, which I should otherwise have ignored. The +knowledge that I thus gleaned was confirmed to me by my subsequent +travel in Russia, especially by journeys which I sometimes made in +third-class carriages. But all this would not be in itself sufficient to +give me any right to talk about the Russian peasant. All this would have +given me the material, but not the means of using it. I base my claim to +right of using it on one simple fact: I like the Russian peasant very +much. + +In speaking of Pushkin’s love of the Russian peasant, Dostoievsky says: +“Do not love me but love mine (that is to say, love what I love). That +is what the people says when it wishes to test the sincerity of your +love. Every member of the gentry, especially if he is humane and +enlightened, can love, that is to say, sympathize with the people on +account of its want, poverty, and suffering. But what the people needs +is not that you should love it for its sufferings, but for itself; and +what does ‘love it for itself’ signify? If you love what I love, honour +what I honour. That is what it means, and that is what the people will +answer to in you; and if it be otherwise, the man of the people will +never count you as his own, however great your distress may be on his +account.” + +Well, in saying that I like the Russian peasant very much, I mean that I +honour what he honours, and his way of looking at life; his standards of +right and wrong seem to me the sound and true. + +It is for this reason that, in all humility, I claim the right of +deducing certain statements from the experience that I have had amongst +the Russian people, and in laying them before the English reader. + +Now as to the chief characteristics of the Russian peasant. In the first +place, and most important of all, he is intensely religious, and his +religion is based on common sense. + +“Mysticism,” Mr. Chesterton once wrote, “was with Carlyle, as with all +its genuine professors, only a transcendent form of common sense. +Mysticism and common sense alike consist in a sense of the dominance of +certain truths which cannot be formally demonstrated.” + +In this sense the Russian peasant is a mystic. His religion does not +come to him through books or study or spiritual sciences, but it is the +outcome of his experience, and of a very hard and bitter experience. The +first and cardinal point of the peasant’s whole outlook on life is that +he believes in God, and that he sees the will of God in all things, and +that he regards a man who disbelieves in God as something abnormal, and +as something not only abnormal but silly. He believes in God because it +seems to him nonsensical not to do so. + +It would be easy to call as witnesses on this point a host of the most +famous names in Russian literature. But the objection might be made (a +false objection in my opinion, but still it might be made) that writers +and poets idealize reality, and see in others what they feel in +themselves or what they want to see; so from Russian literature I will +only call one witness, and that is N. Garin, an engineer, who bought a +property in the country and devoted many years solely to farming it, and +was thus brought into daily constant and intimate touch and +communication with the peasants. + +He begins relating his experiences thus: “By my conversations and +intercourse with the peasants I could not help becoming acquainted with +their inner life. As I got to know them I was struck on the one hand by +their strength, patience, endurance, and by an inflexibility which +attained to greatness, which made it easy to understand how the kingdom +of Russia had come to be. On the other hand, I met with obduracy, +routine, and a dull hostility to every innovation, which made it easy to +understand why the Russian peasant lives so miserably. Two brothers +lived in a village. One was married and the other was a bachelor. The +married brother has five children and a wife, but is himself the only +bread-winner; the unmarried brother lives in the family, and helps in +the work with all his might, but he is old and ill. The married brother +falls sick and dies. The old man is left with the family on his hands; +he sets about to support it with the slender strength at his disposal. +There are no savings, nothing put by. In the cottage half-naked children +are running about, all with colds; they are crying; the cottage is cold, +the atmosphere is foul, the calf squeals, the dead man is lying on the +shelf, and on the face of the old man there is an expression of calm, as +if all that were quite natural and had to be so. + +“‘It will be hard for you to feed eight mouths all by yourself?’ I ask. + +“‘And God?’ he answered. + +“God is all. Starvation is beckoning through the half-broken little +window of the rotting house; the last bread-winner dies; there is a heap +of children; the sister-in-law (the only woman) is sick; there is no +money for the funeral; and he, being questioned as to his lot, answers, +‘And God?’ And you feel something inexpressibly strong, unconquerable, +and great.” + +I will supplement this story with a little piece of first-hand evidence +which I gathered myself. This is only one instance out of a great many +which I have come across in the course of my various sojourns in Russia. + +It was in a small provincial town some years ago, in the winter. I was +walking late in the evening down one of the larger streets. It had been +thawing, and the streets and the pavements were sloshy. It was dark. +Just as I was reaching a street corner which faced a large open place, I +became aware of the sound of muffled, persistent sobs. I looked round, +and I saw sitting on the pavement, with his back to the wall, a little +boy, a peasant’s child, who was softly crying his eyes out. He was +sobbing slowly, not loudly, but persistently; not whining, or crying in +the kind of way children cry when they fall down or quarrel, but he +seemed to be sobbing out of the fullness of his little heart. He was not +trying to attract attention, nor did he pay attention to me or to any +one else. He seemed quite unconscious of the surrounding world, and +plunged in his own grief. I stopped and asked him what was the matter. +He answered that his father had sent him to the town to buy something (I +forget what it was), and had given him the money, and that the money had +been taken away from him. It was quite a small sum. He was afraid to go +home. I at once gave him the money, and the little boy stood up, dried +his eyes, and crossed himself. Then, without a word, he went home. He +thanked God: it was not necessary to thank any one else. And I never saw +anything like the expression of gratitude on his face as he crossed +himself; but to me he did not say one word. What was the use? It was God +who had come to his rescue, not I; you might just as well thank the +violin after a concert for the beauty of the music. + +This is only the story of a child; but the child in Russia, just as +anywhere else, is father of the man. + +It is difficult to bring home to the average Englishman the way in which +religion enters into the daily life of the Russians, and especially into +the daily life of the peasants. How often have I heard it said, how +often have I read in newspapers, of the dark superstition into which the +Russian people is plunged! If it be superstitious to regard religion not +as a rather disagreeable episode belonging exclusively to Sunday, then +the Russian peasant is superstitious indeed. If it be superstitious to +cherish no _mauvaise honte_ with regard to religion, not to be ashamed +of talking about God as a matter of fact, of saying one’s prayers in +public, of going to Mass on Sundays and holidays, of fasting during Lent +and other seasons of merrymaking at Easter, of crossing yourself before +meals, of invoking the Saints, of revering images and relics, then the +Russian peasant is superstitious indeed. But you must not put down such +superstition to ignorance, for it has been shared by men such as Saint +Augustine, Sir Thomas More, Lord Acton, and Pasteur—none of them what +you would call ignorant men. + +Sometimes the traveller will note the fact that the Russian peasant will +prostrate himself over and over again before an image, or cross himself +over and over again mechanically. He will say the thing is an idle form +that has no spiritual significance. He will be wrong. The Russian +peasant fulfills the form and ritual of his religion as a matter of +course. He is not more superstitious in the fulfilling of them than an +Englishman is superstitious when he uncovers his head before the colours +of a regiment. In the case of a Russian peasant his meticulous +observance of ritual and form is just as much a matter of course to him, +it is just as much based on common sense as that inflexible belief in +God and the working and will of Providence which Garin so pointedly +illustrates in the passage I have quoted above. + +The Russian peasant sees things in their true proportion. He believes in +God, as a matter of course, because it is plain to him that God exists. +He goes to church and observes the formalities of his religion because +it is plain to him that is the right thing to do, just as it is plain to +the ordinary English citizen that it is right to stand up when “God save +the King” is being sung. + +The Russian peasant may be, and can be, and often is, as superstitious +as you like about other things, but his superstition does not proceed +from his religion. His superstitions are likewise a matter of tradition; +he believes in the _domovoi_, for instance, the spirit that inhabits +houses, well known once to the English peasantry, under the name of the +hobgoblin; Milton calls him the drudging goblin:— + + “And he by Friar’s lantern led + Tells how the drudging goblin sweat + To earn the cream bowl duly set, + When in one night, ere glimpse of man, + His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn + That ten day labourers could not end, + Then lies him down, the lubber-fiend, + And, stretched out all the chimney’s length, + Basks at the fire his hairy strength, + And crop-full, out of doors he flings, + Ere the first cock his matin rings.” + +The _domovoi_ in Russia is merely supposed to inhabit houses. I do not +think he is ever suspected of working. He is good-natured but +capricious. Each house has its goblin. He sits in the corner +underground. If you move from one house to another you must give notice +to the goblin and summon him to come with you. If you forget to do this, +the goblin will be offended, and stay where he is left, and show marked +hostility to the _domovoi_ brought by a new tenant. The two goblins will +fight; china and furniture will be broken; and this will go on until the +first householder comes and invites the goblin to his new house. Then +everything will be all right once more. + +Garin says that he once said to a peasant: “What, in your opinion, is +the _domovoi_—the devil?” + +The peasant, quite offended, answered: “Why should he be the devil? He +does no harm.” + +“Then is he an angel?” + +“God forbid! How can he be an angel seeing that he’s hairy?” + +So the peasant agrees with Milton in thinking that the hobgoblin’s hide +is covered with hair. + +The hobgoblin plays the part of a kind of moral barometer to the family, +foretelling good or bad fortune. At supper-time he is heard to move, and +then the elder of the family asks whether good or evil is impending. If +it be bad, the _domovoi_ says, “Hu” (Hudo being the Russian for bad); +and if good, he mutters, “D... D... D... D...” (Dobro being the Russian +for good). + +To sum up the whole matter briefly, the religion of the Russian peasant +is, if you analyze it (a thing which the peasant would, of course, never +do), a working hypothesis of the world; or, to take Matthew Arnold’s +phrase, a criticism of life; and it is more a solution, a philosophy +which he has evolved not from books, not from professors or teachers, +but from life itself. It is the fruit of his native common sense. In +this observance of the forms of religion he likewise follows what has +for him the sanction (_a_) of common sense; (_b_) of immemorial custom. + +Such a point of view one would think at first sight was not difficult to +grasp. Experience has led me to believe that it is difficult for English +people to grasp it. They go to Russia; they see the peasants prostrating +themselves in churches, kissing images, taking off their hats as they +pass churches; they see crowds feasting on Saint days; they see pilgrims +asking for and receiving alms. And they say, “What backward people! How +superstitious!” Or again (which is much worse) they say kindly, “What +charming people. How picturesque!” In the first case they are being +consciously superior, and in the second case they are being +unconsciously condescending. + +In the first case they are simply pitying people for what they consider +retrograde and backward; in the second case they are expressing an +admiration whose real source is contempt. They do not know it is +contempt, but it is. Their belief in their own superiority is so sure, +and so sound, that they no more question it than the Russian peasant +questions his belief in God. + +It is the same good-natured, easy-going contempt an English workman +feels for foreign workmen when he happens to work abroad. + +I know of a case of an English gardener who was employed in a French +country-house. An Englishman who was there asked him how he liked the +French. + +“Oh! the French are all right,” he said, “if you treat them well. They +are quite willing. You mustn’t bully them. You must treat them nicely +and kindly. Of course _you can’t expect them to work like Englishmen_.” +He talked of them good-naturedly, tolerantly, as if they were men of +another race, and laboured under some great radical natural disadvantage +through no fault of their own. Had he been talking of negroes instead of +the inhabitants of l’Ile de France you would not have been surprised. + +This is exactly the attitude of the many English travellers, and of +certain English residents in Russia, towards the Russian people. They do +not, since they are not taught it at school—neither in board schools nor +in private schools, nor in public schools, nor in grammar schools, and +least of all at the universities—know that once the whole of Europe, and +especially the English, looked on religion as the Russian peasants do +now; or if they do know this, they thank Heaven that some parts of +Europe, and in any case the English, have outgrown this backward +ignorance and this dark philosophy. + +It is true, and it is only fair to state, that this attitude towards the +religion of the Russian peasant is shared to some extent, but in a quite +different manner, by the Russian educated classes, and more especially +by the semi-educated. Of this I will write later in greater detail. But +there is this great difference—the Russian educated and semi-educated +classes may sometimes think these religious ideas of the Russian +peasants childish; but not because they look on the peasant as a kind of +inferior being, a savage or a “native.” They think the peasant’s +religion is childish, because they think all religion is childish +(whether the Pope’s, the Patriarch’s, the Archbishop of Canterbury’s, +Mrs. Eddy’s, Mahomet’s, or Buddha’s), a thing which they have outgrown. +But, as one Russian writer has pointed out, the Russian intellectuals +are, on an average, not superior but inferior to the idea of religion, +for they have never experienced it; and it is here that their attitude +resembles that of the average Englishman. The average Englishman +considers himself religiously almost immeasurably above the Russian +peasant in enlightenment; it has never struck him that he may be below +him. And until this humble thought strikes him, he will never be able to +understand the religion of the Russian peasant. + +I was once talking to a lady who had been to Moscow about Russia. She +said Moscow was very interesting, but she added: “I suppose it’s +dreadful of me to say it, but all those _mosques_” (and by the mosques +she meant the Cathedral and the Christian churches, which in their rites +and customs probably resemble the early centuries of Christianity more +closely than any in Europe) “were always so full of poor people, and +such dirty people.” The idea of a church being a place where no +distinction was made between rich and poor, where rich and poor could +enter at any time of the day, where rich and poor jostled each other and +crowded together in dense crowds to hear Mass on Sunday, was an idea +entirely new and entirely foreign to her. And in expressing this, I +venture to think she was below and not above the Russian peasant’s +standard of religion. + +With regard to superstition, superstition is to the Russian peasant a +thing quite apart from religion. It fills up a gap for him. In the +region of the inexplicable, all matters that religion does not deal +with, such as omens, the peasant puts down to other agencies, harmless +agencies as a rule, such as hobgoblins; and here again he follows +custom. + +I have said that the basis of the Russian peasant’s religion is common +sense. Common sense is likewise the backbone or the mainspring of his +material as well as of his spiritual existence, the key to his methods +of work and his manner of play, his social code, his habits and customs; +in a word, to his practice as well as to his theory. + +In the past much has been written on his backwardness, his obduracy, his +love of routine, his persistence in remaining in old grooves, his hatred +of innovation, his hostility towards all forms of progress. There is, of +course, in many individual cases, a great deal of truth in these +charges, but there is something else to be said as well. People are now +beginning to say that often what at first sight appears to be wilful +obduracy and blind and senseless conservatism is, in nine cases out of +ten, merely the choice of the lesser of two evils, a choice obviously +dictated by common sense. + +It is now being largely recognized by practical experts in agriculture +in Russia, that the reason the peasant obstinately adhered to antiquated +methods and turned a deaf ear to modern improvements and innovations, +was not always that he was stupid, and not necessarily that he was +obstinate, but that the improvements and the innovations suggested to +him, although admirable in themselves, were, given his particular +circumstances, likely to cause him more harm than good; the main fact +being that he was too poor to take advantage of them; that the older +method was the lesser evil, the newer method being the cause of a +greater evil. + +I will give a few instances of what I mean. + +It is an admitted fact in countries that have a continental climate that +the earth will only retain a sufficient quantity of moisture if it is +ploughed early in spring and remains ploughed throughout the summer. +Consequently the fallow land should be ploughed early in spring for the +winter-sown crops. The peasant knows this well, but he does not plough +early in spring, he ploughs late in summer; but if you ask him why, he +puts to you the unanswerable question, “Where shall I put my cattle, if +I plough early in the spring?”—the only place for his cattle being the +fallow land, since all the remaining part of his land consists of +growing crops. As soon as the harvest is over he can, of course, use the +stubble for his cattle. This is an instance of what seems to be at first +sight backward obstinacy, and is in reality expediency—the choice of the +lesser evil, dictated by common sense. + +At one time every effort was being made to persuade the peasant to use a +modern improved plough instead of the primitive instrument he preferred, +which resembled that in use in the days of Abraham. He often refused to +do so; but why? Not because he had anything against the new plough as an +instrument, but because if he had not enough capital to buy one (its +cost being 50 roubles = £5), and if he borrowed money from a rich +peasant to do so, he risked losing all his substance; he risked being +sold up in order to pay his debts. So in this case, the old-fashioned +plough (which cost him only five roubles = 10s.) was a lesser evil than +complete ruin. + +But, on the other hand, it has now been proved that as soon as the +peasant can get the necessary capital, as soon as he can obtain credit +from co-operative credit associations, he does not hesitate to buy iron +ploughs, or even Canadian corn-cutters, or any modern implement you like +to mention. + +Scientific agriculture is being widely taught at the present moment in +Russia. Agricultural colleges are spreading, and the number of +agricultural students is every day increasing. But it is the firm +conviction of the most learned of the scientific agriculturists that all +you can do for the peasant is to open for him doors on possibilities of +teaching him what can be done; but that if it comes to teaching him +_how_ to do a thing, you cannot. He knows _how_ to do everything much +better than any theorist. Centuries of close and constant contact with +the soil have taught him more than all the learning and all the theory +in the world. You can bring to his notice new methods for him to try, +new experiments; you can submit new possibilities to him; you can +enlarge his horizon to any extent; you can educate him; you can provide +him with new instruments; but in the practical use and application of +knowledge it is he who will teach you, and not you who will teach him. +He has the experience that only practice and centuries of practice can +give. + +Not long ago one of the best known of the scientific Russian +agriculturists spoke in this sense to some young students. He bade them +remember that their whole task consisted in suggesting possibilities to +the peasants; but if they met with opposition, they must never insist, +for the peasant probably knew best, his knowledge being the fruit of the +accumulated experience of countless generations. I believe, and I know +that many Russians agree with me, that the history, the life, the +philosophy, and the religion of the Russian peasants illustrate one +immense fact: that the majority is always right in the long run. _Vox +populi, vox Dei._ He may have temporary aberrations; but give him time, +in the long run his view will be the right view. + +But some one may say, “Surely you do not wish to advance the dangerous +and doctrinaire view that the land should be entirely in the hands of +the peasant; for you have already stated that the peasant believes that +the land is his, and that all the land should be in the hands of those +that till it? Surely you are not in favour of the wholesale +expropriation of land—of the total abolition of landlords?” + +My answer to this is, “Yes, I think the peasant is _right in the long +run_, and I think he is right in thinking that in the long run the land +not only should be, but will be, his.” + +At the present moment there are two kinds of landowners in Russia:— + +1. Absentee landowners, who rent their land to the peasant on short +leases (on an average from one to six years) without sinking any capital +either in buildings or in any other improvements.[1] A large portion (as +I have already said) of the land thus rented to peasants by absentee +landlords was sold to the peasants (with the assistance of the State +land banks) in 1905; and it is generally admitted that the remainder, +all the land still rented to the peasants, should become their permanent +property. This is what is actually happening (slowly and gradually), +with the assistance, again, of land banks. + +With regard to the land farmed by the landowners, the question is +different. Such farming is carried on, as a rule, on a very large scale, +at a great expenditure of capital, which is sunk in the land. + +At one time (in 1905) wholesale and immediate expropriation of all the +land owned by the landowners was advocated by some political parties and +individuals as the solution of the land question in Russia. + +But a wholesale act of expropriation, if put into force immediately, +would not only bring about an economic crisis affecting the landowner, +but it would reduce the standard of farming and diminish the productive +capacity of the land, and impoverish the peasants themselves. + +The peasants, possessing little or no capital, would not be able to +maintain the high standard of farming carried on by the landowners; and +if the land hitherto farmed on this high standard were suddenly to be +made over to them, they would earn less by trying to farm it without +capital than they earn at present by working on the landowners’ land. + +If, then, wholesale and immediate expropriation is out of the question +as a wise, practical, and beneficent measure, why and how is the peasant +right in looking forward to the day when all the land will belong to +him? + +Before such a state of things can be brought about, two things must +happen to the peasant. He must acquire (_a_) capital, (_b_) a wider +instruction in agricultural methods and a more extensive general +instruction—in a word, a better education. + +This is actually happening now. The peasant is enabled to acquire +capital through the existence of co-operative credit associations and +land banks. And everywhere now, all over Russia, agricultural schools +are increasing and instruction in improved agricultural methods is +spreading. The creation of a body of agricultural experts stationed +throughout the country under the supervision of the county councils, in +order to advise the peasants and farmers on matters of agriculture, and +the establishment of experimental farming stations on a comprehensive +scale, have done this. + +When the peasant will be in possession of sufficient capital and +instruction (and there does not appear to be anything Utopian in this +prospect) in order to compete with the landowner who farms his own land, +he will gradually oust the landowner altogether. Once possessed of the +same means as the landlord, he will not only be his equal, but his +superior; he will supersede him; he will be the master of the situation, +and in the long run he will become _ipso facto_ the owner of all the +arable land in Russia; and the change could thus come about without any +economic crisis, and without imperilling the interests of the State. + +People may perhaps wonder why, during the revolutionary ferment of +1905–6, when there was so much talk of expropriation in the air, when +there was so much agricultural disturbance all over Russia, the peasants +did not simply take all the land belonging to the landowners. It is not +a sufficient answer to say the soldiery, remaining loyal, prevented any +such thing. The soldiers are peasants, and there was probably not one +soldier among them who was not convinced that the land belonged to the +tillers of it by right. + +It will perhaps not be thought fantastic if I here again repeat, as an +answer to this question, the democratic theory, which I know is so +distasteful to many, that the majority are always right; that the +peasants, in a vague and inarticulate fashion, vaguely knew or dimly +felt that if they did such a thing the only immediate result would be +wholesale anarchy; and that it was their fundamental common sense which +unconsciously led them to insist on the partial sale of the land let to +them by the landowners, and to rest contented for the moment with this +preliminary step. They would, of course, not be able to explain the +matter thus; but this was in all probability the explanation of their +conduct. + +I repeat here, lest the reader should think I am foisting on him +fantastic stuff and idealistic theory, that the individual peasant is as +often as not obstinate, lazy, and backward; that all the peasants are in +need not only of wider instruction in agricultural methods, but also of +general all-round education. + +The individual peasant would not come out with any theory as to the +lesser of two evils; he would probably defend his backward practice as +being the best, or as being that which had always been followed. + +Nevertheless, in spite of this, those habits of the peasant which are +the result of accumulated experience have, if you look into them, a +fundamental basis of common sense, even though the individual peasant +may be unaware of the fact. The immemorial popular tradition and custom, +the stored and accumulated wisdom of the peasantry (to which the immense +quantity of popular proverbs and saws which exist in Russia are as the +leaves are to a tree) according to which they act as a body, will be +found to be sound and right in the long run, although the average +individual peasant may be unable to give any reason for accepting and +following the dictates of that wisdom which is his inheritance; he may +be not only incapable of defining it, he may be unaware of its +existence. But as a member of the community to which he belongs he will +nevertheless apply that wisdom, as circumstances call for it, and +express it by the acts of his daily life; and his individual voice will +be a part of that larger voice which has sometimes been thought to be +identical with the voice of God. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + THE NOBILITY. + + +The very word nobility in connection with Russia is misleading. There is +no English word which is the equivalent of the Russian word for +nobility—_dvorianstvo_. In French, there are two words, _noblesse de +cour_, which correspond to the Russian word. + +The Russian word _dvorianin_, which we translate, for want of a better +word, noble, means a man attached to a Court, and courtier would be the +right translation, if courtier did not happen to mean something else. +The Russian noble is a Court servant, who is entitled by the service he +renders to the State to an hereditary rank. Nobility accrues by right to +the man who has reached a certain definite step or _tchin_ in the army +or in the civil service. + +The service, moreover, is open to everybody who can pass a certificate +examination at the end of his school time. During the whole of the +eighteenth century, and the first part of the nineteenth century, from +the reign of Peter the Great to the end of the reign of Alexander I., +every single officer of the nobility army, and every single civil +servant holding an equivalent rank, became _ipso facto_ a noble. + +The lowest rank in the army, that of an ensign, conferred the right of +nobility.[2] + +Later on, in 1822, in 1845, and in 1855, the grade which conferred +hereditary nobility was raised. + +The net result of all this is that (_a_) the nobility as a class is +enormous (in European Russia the hereditary nobility number about +600,000); (_b_) there can be nothing aristocratic about such a nobility. + +This does not mean that the descendants of old families do not exist in +Russia. Such families exist, and are, perhaps, more ancient than any in +Europe. Moreover, a certain number of names and families stand out +amidst the encircling obscurity, some of them illustrious with an almost +fabulous antiquity, like names in a saga or an epic, and others +illustrious from great services rendered in more modern times. Russian +history is “bright with names that men remember”; on the one hand names +recalling those of the Knights of the Round Table or the heroes of the +Niebelungenlied, on the other hand names resembling that, say, of the +Duke of Wellington. + +Titles have little to do with the matter: amongst this little band of +the illustrious, some of the families have titles of recent origin; +others, again, almost incredibly remote both in lineage and fame, have +no titles at all. + +The great mass of the nobility have neither title nor any outward sign +to distinguish them from the herd of nobles, with the exception of the +collateral branches of the royal family. + +Russia was originally a conglomeration of small principalities (all +descending from, all collateral branches of, one prince), grouped at one +time under the leadership of Kiev, and later on absorbed by the +principality of Moscow, which eventually became first a kingdom, and +then _the_ kingdom. When Moscow absorbed all the minor principalities, +the princes, bereft of their principalities, still retained their +titles. “Prince” is, therefore, the only true Russian title that exists +in Russia. + +The titles of graf (count) and baron are borrowed from Western Europe. +There is no word either for count or baron in the Russian language, and +the German terms are used. These titles are confined to a few families, +and are either titles of recent creation, conferred by the sovereign for +special services, or they denote families of foreign extraction and +origin. + +About two-thirds of the princely families descend from the ancient +sovereigns of Russia, and about forty of them go as far back as Rurick, +the oldest of all Russian sovereigns. Such are the families of the +Dolgoruky, Bariatinsky, Obolensky, Gortchakov, Khovansky, Galitsin, +Trubetskoy. + +As far as lineage and antiquity are concerned, these families are as old +as any in Europe; but in spite of the existence of these ancient +families, whose ramifications are innumerable (for instance, there are +about three or four hundred Galitsins, male and female), there is no +such thing in Russia as a political aristocracy. + +One of the causes of this state of things is probably the democratic +system which prevails in every Russian family, be it that of a prince or +of a peasant, of dividing property equally amongst the whole family; and +as the title is likewise inherited by every member of the family as the +process of subdivision goes on, it sometimes happens that the sole +inheritance of the descendant of an illustrious family is his name. + +One would have thought this constant process of subdivision must have +ultimately decimated all the large estates in Russia. It probably would +have done so had it not been for the size of the country, the perpetual +opening out of new territory, the unceasing colonization of such +remnants, and the consequent rise in the value of land. + +Moreover, the division of property is made among the male members of the +family only. The female members of a family receive only a fourteenth +share of the patrimony; they receive a marriage portion, and sometimes +nothing besides.[3] + +There is also in Russia, as everywhere else, what the French would call +“_une aristocratie mondaine_.” Even here there is less spirit of caste +than in other European countries. It is impossible to define what +constitutes and what limits this society in Russia, just as it is +impossible to define what constitutes the limits of any such society +anywhere. It has nothing necessarily to do with the governing class, and +nothing to do with the great mass of the nobility, and nothing +necessarily to do with illustrious names or services, and is hall-marked +neither by wealth nor by titles, but by a freemasonry of manner and +culture. It is a society consisting of many separate groups, which live +their own life and touch each other at certain points. Thus in St. +Petersburg there is an _erste Gesellschaft_, who all talk French as a +matter of course, and very often English as well, and who at one time +talked French better than their own language. The younger generation of +this class, however, know Russian well. + +Thus it is that in speaking of the Russian nobility as a whole and as a +class—and it is a vast class—the English reader must put out of his head +all ideas of aristocracy such as it existed in England, France, Germany, +Spain, and Italy, and realize the following facts:— + + 1. The noble in Russia is a State servant. + + 2. Any one can enter the State service if he passes the requisite + examination. + + 3. The attainment of a certain rank in the State service carries + with it the rights of hereditary nobility. + + 4. There is no political aristocracy in Russia. + + 5. Until 1861 only the nobility had the right to own land in + Russia. + + 6. There is no such thing as a territorial aristocracy in Russia. + +How is it, then, that if until this year 1861 the nobility alone had the +right of owning land in Russia, there is no such thing as a territorial +aristocracy? And how is it, if innumerable descendants of old princely +families exist at the present moment in Russia, there is no such thing +as a political aristocracy? + +The answer to these two questions is to be found in the history of the +past, and, without going into any elaborate historical disquisition, the +roots of the matter are fairly easy to trace. + +In the earlier times of Russian history, long before the invasion of the +Tartars, before the Norman Conquest in England, Russia was divided into +principalities, which were governed by princes. Every prince had a body +of followers, who constituted around his person a kind of armed militia. +This militia was called the _druzhina_. Its members were free. They +could serve whom they pleased. They could pass from the service of one +prince to another. Out of this class of armed servants arose the +_boyars_, who were likewise the voluntary servants of the princes, and +who could serve whichever prince they pleased. They were naturally +inclined to choose the richest and most powerful prince, and thus they +were attracted to the Court of Moscow, and thus the minor principalities +became weaker in resources and poorer in followers, and were gradually +absorbed one after another by the Grand Duchy of Moscow. And when Moscow +became the central and predominant kingdom of Russia, the boyars became +the servants of the Tsar of Moscow. But the boyars did not serve the +monarch for nothing; in return for their service they received land. +Originally the servants of the princes were remunerated for their +services by receiving allotments of land, which passed from father to +son, as well as by money, and the revenues accruing from certain +Government appointments. Had the boyars continued to possess hereditary +allotments, and nothing but hereditary allotments, they might have grown +into a caste of territorial aristocrats. As it was, as Russia grew +bigger, and when Northern Russia was annexed to the kingdom of Moscow, +the only new sources of capital were the immense stretches of new land +acquired by the Tsar of Moscow. Henceforward the Tsar, instead of giving +the boyars hereditary allotments of land in return for their service, +gave them temporary allotments of land in the newly-acquired territory. +These allotments were in theory supposed to belong to the Tsar’s servant +so long, and so long only, as he served, but in practice they generally +belonged to the owner during the whole of his lifetime. A grant of land +of this kind was called a _pomestie_ (manor), and the owner of it a +_pomeshchik_, which came in the course of time to be, and is at present, +the ordinary Russian word for a landowner. + +Thus the Tsar accomplished at one swoop many different objects. He +distributed the men of service in the interior and at the frontier of +the country, and by granting them only the temporary lease of the land +in distant parts of the country, he prevented the growth of a strong +landed aristocracy whose existence and rivalry he feared. He made these +newly-created landowners into a barrier against foreign invasion, and +into an instrument of national defence; the land became a means for the +upkeep of the army, since the landowners constituted the army, and the +armed servant in return for his service received land, which, in +addition to being a wage, made that service possible by giving him a +means of upkeep. + +The principle was established that the servant of the State should be +rewarded for his services by the possession of land; and soon the +corollary followed that the owner of land _must_ serve. + +Hereditary holdings still existed; but gradually the right of +administrating them came to depend on service. In the sixteenth century, +in the kingdom of Moscow, all owners of hereditary holdings were State +servants. A man who inherited a holding was obliged to serve if he +wished to continue to possess the hereditary ownership of it. + +Thus it was that the nobility in Russia acquired the dual nature of +landowner and servant of the State. The servant of the State became a +landowner, and only on the condition of being a servant of the State, as +has already been stated. + +The result of all this was that the nobility took no roots in the land. +Their interest was at Court. Their land was merely their pay. Thus no +landed or territorial aristocracy came into existence, as in other +European countries. In Russia there are no feudal castles, no families +taking their names from places, no titles derived from property, no +_von_ and _zu_, no _de_, no Lord So-and-So of So-and-So; comparatively +few stone houses. The noble generally lives in a wooden house, which has +the nature of a temporary makeshift residence. + +Nevertheless there was an obstinate attempt on the part of the Russian +nobility to form a political aristocracy. + +The boyars, grouping themselves round the throne of Moscow, attempted to +do this. They organized themselves into a complicated hierarchy, +according to which precedence depended on the pedigree of their +forefathers. The duties and position of each boyar was written down in a +complicated kind of peerage called “books of pedigree.” His rank had to +remain exactly what that of his forefathers had been. + +Organized in this fashion, the boyars became an hereditary, stationary, +and exclusive caste, perpetually quarrelling over questions of pedigree, +the rights and wrongs of which were extremely difficult to determine. + +By the time Ivan the Terrible came to the throne (1547) the boyars were +individually powerful, but the very nature of such an organization +precluded all idea of solidarity and union. Every single noble wished to +be _primus inter pares_. Every family was at war with its equals. Ivan +the Terrible dealt with the boyars individually by cutting off their +heads. The books of pedigree were abolished in the reign of Peter the +Great’s predecessor, and the name boyar was abolished by Peter the +Great. + +Henceforward the service of your forefathers was no longer of any +account. Neither lineage nor rank counted any longer. Your rank depended +henceforth on your _tchin_—that is to say, the post you held in the +service of the State; and that, in its turn, depended on your personal +merit, on the nature of your service. The Russian nobility became a +class of State servants in which the hereditary principle ceased to +exist; and although some of the privileges which Peter the Great took +away from the hereditary nobility were restored to them by his +successors, the great fabric of the State service which he created still +exists. So does the _tchin_, with its fourteen grades, created by Peter +the Great. A boy leaving his college or gymnasium, and having passed +what the Germans call his _abiturienten examen_, and what in some of our +public schools is called a certificate examination, has access to the +lowest rung of the official ladder. + +University degrees confer a _tchin_ on the student, and with every fresh +diploma he receives he ascends a further rung of the ladder. For +instance, a son of a peasant, if he goes to school, passes his +examinations, and finishes his course at the university, may serve, say, +in the department of Railway Traffic Organization, and by ascending one +grade of the ladder after another, he may, partly by luck and partly by +merit, end by being Minister of Finance or Prime Minister. + +The successors of Peter the Great exempted the nobility from compulsory +service; and Catherine II. not only confirmed this exemption, but +increased and enlarged the privileges of the nobility. She made the +nobility into a privileged class. In order to prepare the way for local +self-government, she created intermediate powers between the throne and +the people, and gave the nobility a part to play in local +administration, and roped in the merchants to co-operate with them, thus +endeavouring to form a _bourgeoisie_. The nobility enjoyed the privilege +of appointing local justices of the peace and local officials. The +administration of every district had to pass through the hands of the +nobility in the shape of a marshal, in some respects a kind of +lord-lieutenant[4]; one presided over every district, and one over every +province, and both were elected by the Assembly of Nobles. The theory +was that the influence of the marshals of the nobility would +counterbalance the action of the governor of the province, an official +appointed directly by the Crown. This was the theory, and a theory it +more or less remained owing to the apathy of the nobility, who failed to +take full advantage of their privileged situation. Nevertheless the +nobility did play a considerable part in local administration; and +consequently, in proportion as they tended to become bureaucrats, they +ceased being landowners. They had less and less time to look after their +property. They ceased, for the greater part, to be practical and +practising landowners, and they left the management of their estates in +the hands of their stewards, and often used their estates as a means of +raising money, so that in 1859, on the eve of the emancipation, +two-thirds of the estates and the nobility were in pawn, and the +remaining third was often mortgaged to individuals. + +The privileges granted to the nobility by the successors of Peter the +Great could not fail to affect the peasantry. The peasants were at this +time tethered to the soil. Peter the Great had tightened the bonds which +attached them to the soil, and Catherine II. had done nothing to loosen +their bonds. In fact, the situation of the peasants, instead of +improving, had grown worse. The rights of the master over the serf had +been extended. The master had the power of dealing administratively with +the serf; he could banish him to Siberia, sentence him to penal +servitude, and could sell him apart from the land. The situation of the +serf was not only crying out for reform, but the peasants knew and +complained that the whole logical principle of the case for serfdom had +been violated. + +The peasantry rightly considered that serfdom was a temporary measure +coinciding with the compulsory service of the nobility. If the nobility +ceased to serve the Tsar, logically they should cease to serve the +nobility, because the nobility were only given the land on condition of +serving the Tsar, and on that condition alone, and the peasants belonged +to the land. + +The discontent of the peasants expressed itself in risings, which were +sometimes serious, and the moral feeling against the existence of +serfdom became stronger and stronger. And since the nobles were too much +occupied with other affairs to look after their estates in person, and +their serfs in a patriarchal fashion, there was, as has already been +said in Chapter I., no possible argument left in favour of serfdom. + +Nevertheless, as Catherine II. saw clearly, the emancipation of the +serfs could only be carried out with the co-operation of the nobility. +In her reign the time had not come for this, because the nobility were +opposed to the reform. The reform came about in 1861, and by it the +nobility lost the unique privilege of being the only class in Russia +able to own land, and the access to landed proprietorship in Russia was +thrown open to all classes. + +When the immense act of expropriation which the emancipation of the +serfs entailed took place, about half the landowners in Russia +disappeared. Quite a new and mixed class of landowners came into +existence: merchants and absentee landowners who leased their land to +the peasants, and finally those who sunk their capital in the land and +tried to carry on agriculture on rational principles. + +I have already spoken of the result of absentee landownership in Russia, +and the further sales of land which were made to the peasants in 1905, +and of the exemption of the peasantry from compulsory communal land +tenure. Looking back on the situation now, one is aware that the landed +nobility in Russia is being slowly and gradually oozed out of existence; +it is being subjected to a slow process of expropriation in favour of +the peasants, the merchants, and the new capitalists; and in the course +of time, as soon as the peasantry has the means, the capital, and the +knowledge to compete with it on equal terms, the nobility as a caste of +landowners will disappear altogether. + +The two questions which I put towards the beginning of this chapter: How +is it there exists no political aristocracy in Russia? and, How is it +that there exists no territorial aristocracy, in spite of the fact that +until 1861 the nobility had the exclusive right of owning the land? can +perhaps be answered thus:— + +There is no political aristocracy in Russia, because as far back as we +can see in Russian history we find no traces of that spirit of caste and +solidarity which creates a compact body, sharing a common outlook, and +pursuing a definite political and social aim. As far back as we can see +in Russian history the nobles were State servants, and when they were +given privileges which were not dependent on service, they were +powerless to make themselves into anything else. They had neither the +instinct nor the desire to do so. + +There have in Russian history been aristocrats, but no aristocracy; and +when those aristocrats were powerful, they were bound together by no +_esprit de corps_, and by no common object: thus it was easy for the +Crown to disintegrate them. + +There has been no territorial aristocracy, because the land was a +temporary loan made to the nobility in return for service. When the +service ceased to be compulsory, the land was at once reclaimed by its +original owners, the men who tilled it. A hundred years after service +ceased to be compulsory for the nobles the peasants were given back a +great part of the land, and ever since then they have been gradually +getting back more and more of it, and in the course of time there is no +doubt that they will end by getting back all of it. + +The Russian nobility is a thing apart. An aristocracy on the Western +European pattern no more exists in Russia than do feudal castles on the +European pattern. There is an analogy between the flat uniform surface +of the landscape in Russia, the absence of sharp mountain ranges and +deep valleys, of variety and variegated features, and the nature of +Russian institutions. The Russian nobility is, like the Russian +landscape, devoid of sharp features—all one level. It is democratic, and +averse to the prominence of individual personalities. All the features +that are characteristic of aristocratic tendencies, such as +primogeniture, spirit of caste, class exclusiveness, do not exist. The +Russian nobility is democratic, and it lacks the salient features and +the sharp and defined character which has distinguished in the past the +nobility in the other countries of Europe. + +It may very likely now occur to the reader to ask if there is not and +never has been such a thing as a political aristocracy in Russia; and if +the Russian nobility is so democratic, why was there ever any discontent +in Russia? Why was there such a thing as Nihilism and a revolutionary +movement? + +It would seem at first sight that a system in which rank was entirely +dependent on merit, and in which the service was open to everybody, left +nothing to be desired, as far as democracy is concerned. In certain +respects it is obviously democratic, in others it is fatal to all free +democracy. + +The principle, of course, is as democratic as possible; but what happens +in practice? In practice you have a gigantic machine worked by a +governing class of officials which is absolutely uncontrolled by public +opinion. + +Any one can get into the governing class, that is true; but nobody who +is not in it can check its action, and at one period nobody could even +criticize it. The result is the triumph of bureaucracy at the expense of +any kind of democracy or of any kind of aristocracy; while the only +thing that profits by it is arbitrary despotism. And though the system +is theoretically favourable to the advancement of merit, it is a +thousand times more favourable to mediocrity, routine, office-hunting, +officialdom, red tape, to the stifling of all individual initiative, and +the shirking of all moral responsibility. The chief evil result of the +system was the uncontrolled arbitrary character of the central +government and the local administration as carried on by the provincial +governors and other officials of the Government; and it was against this +arbitrariness that public opinion in Russia revolted, and expressed +itself either by militant acts of revolt, assassinations, or explosions, +or peaceably in a demand for political reform. And in this peaceable +demand the nobility played an important part. + +I have already said that Catherine II. gave privileges to the nobility +with the idea of preparing the way for local self-government. She knew +that in her time such institutions could only be elementary, and that +real local self-government was impossible, since besides the nobility +and the merchants, the rest of the population were serfs; but she +determined to lay the foundations of self-government, and to prepare the +way for the future. She gave the nobility privileges which in other +countries must certainly have led to a conflict with the Crown; but in +her time nothing of the kind happened, since the nobility took no +advantage of their situation. But the situation which she created did +ultimately lead to a conflict with the Crown, because it was the organs +of the local self-government which voiced the demand for representative +institutions in Russia, and headed the movement which obtained them. The +first step towards local self-government was made by Catherine II., the +second step was made by Alexander II. In 1864, in addition to the +Assemblies of Nobles, Zemstvos (county councils) were created, +containing representatives of every class; later, the nobility and the +peasants elected their representatives. Every district of every +government or province was given a Zemstvo, or county council; and above +this (and formed from the district councils) each government or province +was given a county council. Both the district and the provincial county +councils were presided over by the marshals of the nobility. + +Here were the means and the instrument at least of checking the +uncontrolled action of the bureaucratic machine; but the natural +corollary of local self-government—namely, central political +representation—was for the time lacking. Moreover, from time to time the +officials appointed by the Government were given powers to check the +action of the county councils. + +Ten years passed. The enthusiasm which greeted the era of reform in the +’sixties died out in a smoke of disillusion, and a revolutionary +movement sprang up, and a Nihilist fever, culminating in the +assassination of the Emperor Alexander II. in 1881, when he was on the +eve of granting a constitution to Russia. This shelved all question of +reform for another twenty-five years; a period of sheer reaction +followed; and it was not until the Russo-Japanese War in 1904 that the +public discontent found expression in a manner which had to be reckoned +with. + +It was now that the Zemstvos played a supremely important part. They +headed the constitutional demand for reform, which had developed side by +side with a revolutionary movement. And they obtained first the promise +of a consultative House of Representatives, and finally, on October 17, +1905, a charter promising to the people the foundations of civic +liberty, the convocation of a Duma, and the promise that no laws should +in future be passed without receiving the sanction of the +representatives of the nation. The rank and file of the army which +brought this to pass were the whole of the educated middle class of +Russia, but its leaders and spokesmen were the members of the nobility +in the county councils. It was not the nobility as a class which acted +and brought this about, but the instruments of local government, the +county councils; and every single organ of local government, each county +council, had at the head of it a member of the nobility. So far, then, +from acting as a separate caste, the Russian nobility, in the movement +and demand for reform and emancipation, simply expressed the opinion of +the man in the street; and this was all the easier, for the simplest +definition of the Russian noble, and one which sums up the whole matter, +is that in Russia the noble is almost every tenth man in the street. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + THE GOVERNMENT MACHINE. + + +Up till October 30, 1905 (O.S., October 7), Russia was an unlimited +autocracy. The Emperor bore the title of Unlimited Autocrat of all the +Russias. But Russia possessed, nevertheless, certain administrative and +legislative institutions. There was a consultative assembly called the +Council of Empire, founded by Alexander I., whose business it was to +make laws; and a Senate, founded by Peter the Great, an administrative +institution, whose business it was to see that the laws and the +Emperor’s ukases were carried out. The Emperor could always issue +special ukases, and he could suggest any laws to the Ministers whom he +appointed. + +The initiative of legislation was in the hands of the Emperor’s +Ministers. They presented laws to the Council of Empire, which discussed +and amended them, and presented them, together with the findings of the +majority and the minority, and sometimes the finding of an individual +member, which were the outcome of their deliberations, to the Emperor +for his sanction. In this manner the fundamental laws of the empire were +drawn up. + +On October 30, 1905, this state of things was profoundly modified by the +publication of an imperial manifesto which laid down certain new +principles of government. + +If these principles were carried out in practice, Russia would no longer +be an unlimited autocracy. What it would exactly be is a little +difficult to define. In the old days the Government of Russia was +defined as being an autocracy tempered by assassination. It would be +difficult to define it exactly as it is at the present moment. It is a +limited autocracy; an autocracy limited indirectly by the existence of +legislative institutions. + +At the same time, it was technically a mistake to call the manifesto a +constitution, because the Sovereign did not categorically divest himself +of his autocratic rights; he took no oath to any constitution; all he +did was to grant his subjects certain privileges, which, if carried out, +would limit the purely autocratic character of his power. He himself +remained an autocrat. He could, if he saw fit to do so in the future, +take back the privileges he had granted. The manifesto was a charter +rather than a constitution. It promised to the people the foundations of +civic liberty based on the liberty of the person, liberty of conscience, +liberty of speech, and the right of forming unions, societies, and +associations. It announced that a National Assembly (the Duma) would be +convoked, elected by the people, who would henceforward be called upon +to co-operate in the government of the country. It laid down the +principle that in future no law should come into force without +previously receiving the sanction of the Parliament. + +A National Assembly elected by the people was not a new phenomenon for +Russia. Ever since 1550 National Assemblies appear from time to time in +the course of Russian history. They failed to become a permanent feature +and factor in Russian life owing to the strife of classes. The +population split up into classes, and this was due to the birth of +economic problems and the manner in which they were solved; the peasants +became slaves in the hands of the landowners, and the National Assembly +ceased to be national, and became representative of an upper class which +was divided against itself, owing to the conflicting personal interests +it fostered. + +The Emperor Nicholas II. in convoking a National Council was not +creating a new precedent, but resuscitating an old one. The word Duma +means Council, and the Tsars of Moscow in olden times had governed with +the aid of an assembly of nobles called the Council of Boyars. + +When the manifesto was issued in 1905, it was clear that the fundamental +laws of the empire made no provision for a Duma, and that if a Duma were +to assemble on the basis of the manifesto, its situation in the State +and its relation to the Sovereign would be undefined. For this reason a +revised version of the fundamental laws of the empire was confirmed and +published on April 23, 1906. + +This revised edition of the fundamental laws defined the position of the +Sovereign with regard to the Duma. According to its provisions, the +supreme autocratic power was vested in the person of the Emperor; but +according to another section it was laid down that the Sovereign +exercises legislative power in conjunction with the Council of Empire +and the Duma. + +The principle of the manifesto that no law should come into force +without previously receiving the sanction of the legislative institution +was confirmed. + +The Emperor retained the title of Autocrat, and concentrated in his +person the legislative, executive, and judicial powers; but the +substantive “Autocrat” was no longer preceded by the adjective +“Unlimited.” + +The executive powers of the Sovereign entitled him to convene, adjourn, +and prorogue the Council of Empire and the Duma; to dissolve the Duma; +and to dismiss the elected members of the Council of Empire before the +term of their mandates, but not without fixing the date of fresh +selections and of the session of a new Duma. + +The Emperor retained the right of appointing the president, the +vice-president, and half the members of the Council of Empire; the right +of veto, and the sanction of laws; the sole initiative of any changes in +the fundamental laws; and, as has already been said, he shared the +initiative in all branches of legislation with both the Houses. + +The Emperor also retained the right of issuing special ukases, +sanctioning unforeseen expenditure not provided for in the Estimates, +for emergencies in case of war, and loans for expenditure in war. + +The fundamental laws also contained an emergency clause of another kind, +according to which the Emperor, by special ukase, can promulgate laws in +cases of emergency when the Houses are not in session, subject to their +being subsequently submitted to them for approval. But no change may be +made in the fundamental laws in virtue of this clause, nor may it modify +the legislative institutions and the electoral laws for the two Houses. +Moreover, any regulation made in this way ceases to be in force if, in +two months after the beginning of the session of the Duma, no Bill is +introduced by the Duma confirming it, or if a Bill is introduced and +rejected.[5] + +The executive powers of the Emperor consist in the appointment and +dismissal of the Prime Minister and the Ministers, the direction of +foreign affairs, the proclamation of martial law and any modified kind +of martial law, and the command of the military and naval forces. + +The Emperor has also certain judicial powers, such as the confirmation +of the verdicts of criminal courts. + +At this moment, then, the legislative institutions of Russia consist of +the Council of Empire and the Duma. The Council of Empire is the Upper +House; half of its members are elected, and they receive their mandates +in certain proportions from the synod, the nobility, the universities, +the corporation of merchants, and from Poland. They are elected for a +term of nine years. The remaining members (including the president and +the vice-president) are appointed by the Emperor. + +The Upper House shares with the Lower House the right of initiative in +legislation, as well as that of voting supplies and of making +interpellations. + +The Lower House, as has just been said, has also the right of initiative +legislation; but certain subjects, according to the fundamental laws, +are outside its competence—namely, the institutions of the imperial +court; the imperial family; war and naval departments; the jurisdiction +of military and naval courts. + +On the other hand, the imperial budget and the budgets of individual +Ministries, and the authorization of loans, are within its competency. +It has also the right of making interpellations. There is not, as in the +English House of Commons, a certain time put aside every day for +questions. Notice is given of interpellation, and the question of +whether it shall be regarded as pressing or not is put to the vote. If +expedition is voted for, the interpellation must be answered by the +Ministers within a month; if extreme expedition is voted for, within +three days; if expedition is not voted for, the answer is given within +an indefinite period. + +The right of interpellation, and the larger fact that an assembly exists +where discussion of public affairs is public, are, as is the case with +most Parliaments, the chief assets in the influence of the Duma. As far +as actual legislation is concerned, the Upper House can throw out any of +the Bills which the Lower House passes. + +The electoral law is exceedingly complicated. The degree of suffrage it +confers is very far from being universal. In the first place, elections +are indirect; in every government voters elect a certain number of +electors, who in their turn elect members to represent the government in +the Duma. Only males who have reached the age of twenty-five have the +right to vote; and all those who are in any branch of military service +are excluded. + +The voters are (_a_) those who vote by property qualification—that is to +say, persons residing in the various districts who can satisfy a +property qualification, the amount and classification of which depends +upon their occupation. For instance, landowners are classified according +to the amount of land they possess, and merchants or all persons engaged +in commercial pursuits, according to their trade licence. This class of +voter must either own immovable property, hold a trade licence, be in +the receipt of a pension and salary arising from his employment in the +Government, municipal, or railway service, or be the occupant of a +lodging hired in his name. + +For such voters one year’s residence in the polling district is +required. + +As the qualification is high, the number of voters is necessarily +limited. + +(_b_) A second class of voter consists of peasants whose names are on +the rolls of the rural communities—that is to say, heads of households. +One year’s residence in the polling district is necessary for them also. + +(_c_) A third class, consisting of town voters, artisans, and employees +in factories, works, and railway shops. Six months’ residence in polling +district is required. + +An election is carried on thus:— + +All the voters are divided into five groups: Landowners; peasants; town +voters (two groups according to their property qualification); artisans, +etc. + +Each of these groups elects separately, by a system of two degrees, a +certain number of electors who shall represent them at a general meeting +of the government or province. This large Provincial Assembly, +consisting of landowners, peasants, and town dwellers, meets together, +and elects a certain number of members to represent the government or +province in the Duma. In this assembly the landed class interest and the +richer merchants and town dwellers have the advantage in numbers, and +are consequently in the majority. In order therefore to safeguard to a +certain extent the interests of the other classes, the Government +Assembly must first of all elect one member to represent each of the +following classes:— + + (_a_) The peasants; + + (_b_) Landowners; + + (_c_) The town electors (only in certain governments); + + (_d_) The artisans (only in six governments). + +And as each government is entitled to return a certain number of members +fixed by the law,[6] the requisite number is completed by electing +members from the remaining total of electors. + +There are two exceptions to the general procedure: the largest cities, +and Siberia, Poland, and the Caucasus (where the procedure is somewhat +different). The larger cities—St. Petersburg, Moscow, Kiev, Odessa, and +Riga—vote according to property qualification, and elect members +directly to the Duma. + +The result of this complicated system of suffrage is that the landed +interest and the wealthier classes are predominant in the Duma, and +consequently the Conservative element is the strongest. + +The Radical, Social Democratic, and Labour element which exists in the +Duma is furnished by the big towns, with their direct elective system, +and the election of members representing the peasant class, which is +always guaranteed—and the artisan class, which is to some extent +guaranteed—by the elective assemblies of every government. + +All that I have written so far concerns the instruments of legislation. +The administration of the country, the actual business of government, is +carried out by the Senate, the Council of Ministers, the governors of +the provinces, the Zemstvos (county councils), and, as far as religious +affairs are concerned, by the Holy Synod. The highest administrative +institution of the State is the Senate. The Ruling Senate was founded by +Peter the Great in 1711, with the object of representing him and acting +on his behalf during his frequent absences. Its functions, which are +essentially the same to-day as they were then, only on a larger scale, +consist in supervising all branches of administration and in seeing that +the laws are carried out throughout the country. The Ruling Senate, at +the same time, is the high court of justice for the empire, the highest +court of appeal in administrative matters, and exercises supreme +control; it promulgates all laws, and supervises the courts of law. + +The Senate has several sub-departments, which have various functions, +the most important of which is that of checking the executive power, +and seeing that it is exercised in accordance with the law. The +department to which this function belongs is also charged with the +promulgation of a law, and may refuse to promulgate it if the law is +contrary to the fundamental laws. A procurator, representing the +Crown, is attached to every department of the Senate, who is +subordinate to the Minister of Justice. The latter, in this +connection, is called the Procurator-General. + +The Senate also examines complaints brought against Ministers, +governors, or provincial and district officials. The senators are +appointed by the Emperor. + +The Council of Ministers consists of the Ministers and heads of +administration. + +There are twelve Ministries: Foreign Affairs, War, Admiralty, Finance, +Education, Ways and Communications, Agriculture, Justice, Commerce and +Industry, the Imperial Court, the Interior, and the Department of +Government Control. + +Each individual Minister is bound to bring before the Council all Bills +that are destined to come before the Duma and the Council of Empire; all +proposals concerning changes in the staff in the chief offices of higher +and local administration; and all reports which have been drawn up for +presentation to the Sovereign.[7] + +Russia is divided for purposes of administration into provinces called +governments. Peter the Great was the first Russian ruler to make such a +division. He divided the country into eight governments. Catherine II. +increased the number to 40. At the present day there are 78 +governments—49 in European Russia, 10 in Poland, 8 in Finland, 7 in the +Caucasus, 4 in Siberia. + +There are besides these governments, twenty-three provinces which are +called territories (_oblasti_), which are either incompletely organized +or retain special institutions. They are for the greater part situated +at the extremes of the empire. The average size of a government is +greater than Belgium, Holland, or Switzerland. The divisions were made +artificially and arbitrarily, and the governments in this respect +resemble the French departments. + +The governments are divided into districts, which correspond to the +French _arrondissements_. Each province has from eight to fifteen +districts, and is parcelled out for administrative and judicial +purposes, according to its size, between a certain number of officials +called _zemskie nachalniki_, called by some English writers land +captains. These _zemskie nachalniki_ were created in 1889[8] to replace +the local justices of peace, who were abolished in that year. They were +a kind of official squire. The office could in principle only be held by +a member of the hereditary nobility. They exercise executive and +judicial authority over the villages in their area of jurisdiction. I +will discuss their judicial authority later in the chapter on justice. +They have the character of police officers in that they make bye-laws, +and that of magistrates in that they decide on their infringement. They +are nominated by the governor, and appointed by the Minister of the +Interior. They have the control of the peasants’ communal institutions. +All resolutions of the village assemblies and findings of the canton +courts are submitted to them. All the officials of the peasants’ +administration are subordinate to them. They have now become, more or +less, officials of the Ministry, and are no longer men of weight or +position among the nobility. The total number of these _zemskie +nachalniki_ in every district form a Board which sits in the district +town once or more every month, as necessity arises. This board is +presided over by the marshal of the nobility of the district, and with +the co-operation of a police official called the _Ispravnik_, who has +charge of the police duties of every district, and of other officials, +constitutes an administrative unit which corresponds to a French +_sous-préfet_. + +At the head of every province is a governor, who is proposed by the +Minister of the Interior, and appointed by the emperor. He is +responsible for the administration of the government. His office is not +unlike that of the intendant of the old _régime_ in France, and the +préfet of modern France. Formerly the governor concentrated all the +administrative powers in himself, and every province was a miniature +autocracy. The governor is assisted by a board of Administration, over +which he presides, and which consists of a vice-governor, councillors, +the government medical officer, the government engineer, the architect, +the land surveyor, and their deputies. + +The governor can issue special regulations for safeguarding public +order; he exercises control over all the administrative offices and +institutions, all officials and public servants, and the institutions of +local government. All regulations passed by the county or district +councils, or the town corporations, must be confirmed by him; and +likewise the election of all officials elected and appointed by the +local self-governing bodies. + +The principal check on the apparently unlimited powers of the central +administration, personified in the various governors, lies in the rights +exercised by the Assembly of Nobles. + +The nobility in every district meet once every three years and elect a +president for their district, who is called the marshal of the nobility +of the district. + +After this is done, all the nobility of all the districts in the +province unite to elect a president for the province. He is called the +marshal of the nobility of the province. The election of the marshal of +the district must be confirmed by the governor; that of the marshal of +the province is confirmed by the Emperor in person, and by the Emperor +alone. + +In order to belong to the Assembly of Nobles, it is necessary, besides +being a noble by birth, to own land in the district or the province; to +possess either a military or civil _tchin_; or in default of this sign +of rank, certificates testifying that you have passed certain +examinations. + +The right to assemble and elect marshals for the districts and the +province (and a board of trustees for the orphans of nobles) is all that +remains now of the larger privileges conferred on the nobility by +Catherine II. Those privileges consisted in the right of appointing the +local judges and the chief local officials—that is to say, the county +police. This prerogative lasted until the epoch of the great reforms in +the ’sixties. + +But in spite of the loss of their former privileges, the nobility, as +represented in the marshals of the districts, still discharges manifold +duties of an intricate character, and by so doing forms the corner-stone +of local administration, and consequently constitutes a certain check on +the otherwise uncontrolled action of the governor of the province. + +As far as administration is concerned, the marshal of the province is +less important than the marshal of the district. He is an _ex officio_ +member of the governor’s board of administration, and as such, both by +tradition and by right, he exercises considerable influence, since an +independent influential personality is certain to be elected to the +post. + +On the other hand, the duties and powers of the marshal of the district +are more numerous, and stand in closer touch with the machinery of +provincial administration. He is the president of all the executive +committees in the district: all committees that deal with the settlement +of questions relating to the peasants’ land, military conscription, and +the supervision of local schools. He is the president of the district +tribunal (the court of petty sessions), and as such the chief justice of +peace of the district. He is, moreover, the _ex officio_ president of +the Zemstvo Assembly. + +The marshal of the district has duties and capacities of a dual nature. +On the one hand he performs representative duties resembling those of a +lord-lieutenant of an English county; and on the other hand, in +conjunction with the board of _zemskie nachalniki_ I mentioned just now, +he fills the place of a French _sous-préfet_. But the important fact +about his position is that he is outside and not inside the central +official administration. His position is inviolable because once he is +elected he is irremovable, save by imperial ukase, except in the case of +his falling under sentence for breaking the law. + +The strength of his position lies less in his executive power than in +the fact that he is an independent unit, acting in the machinery of +administration, but outside bureaucratic control, and consequently a +check on the local central administration. He receives no salary, and is +necessarily a man of social position. + +Lately, owing to the reactionary tendency towards centralization which +followed the revolutionary movement in Russia, and which has not yet +abated, the influence of the district marshal has been, to a certain +extent, impaired, owing to the greater influence exercised by the +police, who make capital, and lead the central administration to make +capital, out of the fear of revolution. + +Besides the Assembly of Nobles there is a further check on the action of +the provincial governor in the office of the procurator. This office is +attached to the divisional courts of justice. And the procurator, +besides acting as public prosecutor and exercising general control over +law courts, has to see that the law is executed. If a governor acts +illegally, the procurator has the right to appeal to the Senate, which +we have already seen fulfils the special duty of examining such +complaints. + +Side by side with the Assemblies of the Nobles there exist assemblies of +representatives of different classes. + +For the purpose of local self-government European Russia is divided into +village communes, and into groups of communes which form an +administrative unit, called the Canton (_Volost_). The Canton varies in +size, and can include as many as thirty villages. Both the Commune and +the Canton are self-governing. The village is governed by the +Commune—that is to say, the village assembly—which manages the property +of the village and divides it among its members, exercises disciplinary +rights, and has the control of leases of land made to outsiders. But +both as regards the affairs of the Commune and the Canton, the peasants +are, as a class, isolated. The Commune and the Canton can only levy +taxes on their own members. + +The Canton has an assembly also. Each Commune sends one man from every +ten households to the Assembly of the Canton, which elects a president +called the Elder, and five judges chosen from the peasants to serve on +the court of the Canton. + +The provincial administration is, to some extent, entrusted to elective +District and Provincial Assemblies called Zemstvos. + +The Zemstvo was created in 1864. The word _Zemstvo_ means territorial +assembly; the institution corresponds to our county council. There are +two kinds of Zemstvo, the smaller being elected to deal with the affairs +of a single district; the larger is selected by the Zemstvos of all the +districts, and forms a county council for the whole province to deal +with the affairs common to all the districts in that province. + +Both the assemblies must be summoned at least once a year. (They sit for +about a fortnight.) + +The District Zemstvo Assembly is elected indirectly, and consists on an +average of about forty members. The elections of the District Zemstvo +are organized according to class division, or rather civic status. Each +class elects so many representatives—the peasants so many, the nobility +so many, the town dwellers so many. The number of the representatives of +each class is fixed by law in such way as to give the representatives of +the nobility the preponderance. Thus about half (or more than half) the +members consists of members of the nobility; the remainder are peasants, +and include three or four merchants from the towns. All members are +elected for a term of three years.[9] + +The Provincial Zemstvo consists chiefly of members of the nobility, +elected from the District Assemblies.[10] + +Both the assemblies elect from amongst themselves a standing committee +(_zemskaya uprava_) of four or five paid officials, which is appointed +for three or four years. These standing committees do practically all +the current work of the district. + +The governor of the province has the right to confirm or to refuse to +confirm the election of the presidents and members of the Zemstvo +Assemblies; to institute legal proceedings against them; to exercise a +veto on all resolutions of both bodies. The assemblies have the right of +appeal to the Senate. + +The nature of self-government in the towns, and the control exercised +over it is practically the same as that of the Zemstvo institutions. +(The property qualification for the elector is high.) + +The importance of the Zemstvo institutions lies in the fact that they +minister to the practical needs of the community. Within their scope are +the ways and communications, the roads, and the Zemstvo post, all +medical and charitable institutions, mutual insurance, prevention of +cattle disease, fire brigades, primary education, and the development of +agriculture and trade. + +The practical weakness of the Zemstvo as an institution is that it +possesses no lower elective unit corresponding to a vestry or a parish; +no boards below those of the district, which execute its decisions. + +The resources of the Zemstvo consist in taxes, which are levied by the +District and Provincial Zemstvo on land, whether owned by the peasants, +the nobility, or the Crown. + +The main characteristic of the Provincial Zemstvo (since it was +remodelled in 1890, before which date it was more democratic) is that it +is extremely reactionary. But the Zemstvo consists, as I have already +said, chiefly of the nobility—that is to say, of members of the more +cultivated classes—and the result of this is, that in spite of its +members being reactionary in views and sentiment, the work done by +assemblies of these reactionary members is, except in times of violent +reaction, such as the period immediately following after the +revolutionary movement, of a progressive nature. + +In looking back on the work that the Zemstvo has accomplished during the +last fifty years, one sees clearly that the action of the Zemstvo has +been purely progressive, and the work done has outstripped in liberalism +the views and the opinions of the nobility taken as a class, which +constitute its most important ingredient. This explains the mistrust +which the central administration entertains towards the Zemstvo—even +towards its reactionary members. The representatives of the central +administration, by exercising their right of confirming or cancelling +elections and resolutions, are for ever trying to hinder and hamper the +work of the Zemstvo, and to acquire greater control over it. + +In a matter such as the Zemstvo it must by no means be assumed that the +various Ministries in St. Petersburg are necessarily at one. On the +contrary, they may be, and they often are, at sixes and sevens. For +instance, the Ministry of Agriculture is really (and ever since it has +existed always has been) progressive; and since it wishes to get things +done, works with the Zemstvo; and so does the Ministry of Finance, as +far as it is concerned with the Zemstvo. This guarantees a certain +counter influence to that of the Ministry of the Interior, which carries +on the traditional policy of its department, of regarding the Zemstvo as +an enemy. + +If we look now at the work which is being accomplished by the Zemstvo in +the various branches which come under its scope, we see a considerable +improvement in medical institutions and in all that regards public +health; a vast improvement in primary education, the progress being +lately so great that there has been a demand for supplementary funds for +education; and quite lately agriculture has taken a sharp bound forward, +and in so doing has received considerable assistance from the State. + +Taking the Zemstvo and its work as a whole, as a factor in Russian life +and administration, it is clear that it is the one real and vital +political force in Russia, in spite of the reactionary tendencies of the +majority of its members, and in spite of an important organic weakness +in its constitution, which I have already mentioned—namely, the absence +of a link between the Zemstvo and the people it represents. + +It is near to practical life, and it is nearer to the population than +any other institution or body, and since it possesses, in its limited +way, wider facilities for the public discussion of vital interests than +any other institutions, it has during the last fifty years proved the +real organ of public opinion, and the real lever in the matter of +progress, for it was the Zemstvo which voiced the universal desire for +reform in 1905, and contributed in no small way to the changes which +were then made. + +All that is here set down, when you read it through, sounds, as far as +the Zemstvo is concerned, as if all were for the best in the best of all +possible worlds; but in practice the work of the Zemstvo is hampered by +the power of the officials appointed by the Central Government, and the +power of these officials is not only used arbitrarily, but sometimes in +a manner definitely contrary to the law. For the governor of the +province, if he cannot absolutely put a stop to the work of the Zemstvo, +can hamper it in every possible way, and put effectual spokes in its +wheels. It is not only that the possibility of his so doing exists, but +the fact is being actually and not seldom experienced at the present +time, owing to the low administrative standard of the governors who are +appointed. + +It is worth mentioning also that in the important outlying districts of +Russia—in Poland, the Baltic provinces and the Caucasus—there is no +Zemstvo, and all the duties of the Zemstvo are carried out by a +committee of officials, and the majority of these do their work +extremely badly. Also, in these regions the nobility have no rights. + +If you review the Government machine which administrates Russia as a +whole, the same criticism applies. On paper the fundamental laws of the +empire, the rights of the two Houses and of the Senate, and of the +instruments of local self-government, together with the numerous checks +and safeguards against official lawlessness, seem to provide a very fine +working constitution. In practice the rights are often overruled, and +the checks disregarded. + +The Duma, by its very existence, of course, is an element of progress, +however indirect; but here again the Government, owing to the nature of +the electoral law, can exert pressure on the elections, and have so far +succeeded in always obtaining a reactionary majority, so that the actual +composition of the Duma is not what it would be if the Government +exerted no pressure at all. + +Again, since any form or shade of constitutional government is a new +feature in Russia, in many cases that arise there is no established +precedent which can be referred to, and the course to be taken is +doubtful, but in such cases the benefit of this doubt accrues to the +Government. + +In spite of this there is not the slightest doubt that in Russia at +present the existence and the action of the Duma are felt, indirectly, +very widely indeed. And as a rule people who are in the thick of Russian +affairs, the Russians themselves, will not realize this so well as an +outsider. + +The existence of the Duma has proved a factor in national progress. And +the outsider, who has had any experience of Russian life in the past, +will at once see that the progress in the general state of affairs from +what existed ten years ago to what exists now has been immense. There is +a great gulf between the period before 1905 and the era which began in +1905. The trouble is that the government and the administration have not +kept step and time with the national progress. And when people say in +exculpation of the faults of any given government, that every country +has the government which it deserves, it may safely be said that the +actual government of Russia is less good than what Russia deserves, +since it is impossible to deny that, in some respects, Russia is +comparatively, relatively, and taking the general state of affairs and +of national progress into consideration, less well governed at +present—as is the case probably with England and most other European +countries—than it was not only in the immediate past, but even in the +days of Alexander II. Hence there exists an increasing political +discontent, into the specific causes of which we will inquire in the +next chapter. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + CAUSES OF DISCONTENT. + + +I have already said in the preceding chapter that the principles of +central and parliamentary government in Russia, and the theory of local +administration and local self-government, if investigated on paper, +produce an excellent impression, so that the casual inquirer, glancing +at the subject for the first time, will be tempted to exclaim, “What +more can the Russian people want?” + +Moreover, there has perhaps never been a period when Russia was more +materially prosperous than at the present moment, or when the great +majority of the people seemed to have so little obvious cause for +discontent; and yet—it would be futile to deny it—unmistakable signs of +discontent exist. + +Seeds of discontent have been sown, and are every day being sown +broadcast, and unless their early shoots are uprooted in time, it is +difficult to imagine that they will not bear momentous fruit in the +future, however distant such a future may be. + +Whereupon the casual inquirer would probably ask a further question: “If +the Russian people are discontented, why are they discontented? What are +these seeds of discontent? Whence do they come? And are their grievances +substantial or frivolous, real or imaginary?” + +The answer is, I think, simple. + +The seeds of discontent, where they exist, are the result of one simple +fact. In 1905 explicit promises were made to the Russian people, which, +if carried out, would insure their complete political liberty and the +full rights of citizenship. Those promises have in some cases not been +carried out at all, and in other cases they have only been carried out +partially, or according to the letter and not according to the spirit. + +Practically, political liberty does not yet exist in Russia, and the +rights of political citizenship are still a vain dream. + +Every now and then the spokesmen of the Government inform us that the +Russian people are quite indifferent as to legislative reform, and that +all they care for is competent administration. I think, however, putting +aside altogether the question whether competent administration can be +obtained without legislative reform, that nobody will deny that some +people in Russia want political liberty. It would be equally difficult +to deny that the absence of political liberty indirectly hampers and +annoys and exasperates a still greater number of people, who take no +interest in politics and who foster no political theories of any kind. + +Hence discontent arises, which will necessarily vary and increase in +proportion as such annoyance and exasperation is felt by a greater or +lesser number of people. + +In the years that followed immediately on the publishing of the +Manifesto in 1905, the policy of the Government during the +administration of P. A. Stolypin was: “Order first; Reform afterwards.” +To P. A. Stolypin fell the ungrateful task of restoring order. He +accomplished his task, successfully if drastically. And it is only fair +to say that it would have probably been impossible to restore order save +by drastic measures. It must also be said in fairness that P. A. +Stolypin initiated certain large measures which tend towards reform—his +Land Bill and his Education Bill, for instance. But the reforms +initiated during his administration, and during that of his successor, +have as yet only been partial; and so far the practical policy of the +Government has consisted in taking away, curtailing, and limiting with +one hand what has been given with the other. + +This is partly due to the constant introduction of qualifying clauses +and amendments in any new laws that are liberal in spirit—amendments +which have the effect of hindering the practical operation of the laws; +and partly to the quality of the local administration, whose duty it is +to interpret and to execute the laws. As a general rule, the local +administrative officials, by the manner of their interpretation, are +completely successful in sacrificing the spirit to the letter of the +law, and of depriving the laws of their true meaning, and of rendering +them null and void in practice. + +Such a policy must inevitably have an exasperating effect on the +population. + +Let us look into the matter a little more closely. + +The Manifesto of October 30 promised, firstly, the creation of a +deliberative and legislative assembly without whose consent no new laws +in the future should be passed; and secondly, the full rights of +citizenship—namely, the inviolability of the person, freedom of +conscience, freedom of the Press, the right of organizing public +meetings, and of founding unions and associations. + +How far and in what manner have these promises been fulfilled? How far +are these things a practical factor in Russian political life to-day? + +Let us take the Duma first. + +We have already seen that the Duma possesses a considerable indirect +influence, and that by its very existence, and quite apart from what it +may effect or fail to effect legislatively, a change has come about in +the government of Russia; but in spite of this, the powers, or rather +the power, of the Duma is to a certain extent paralyzed by the attitude +of the Central Government towards it. + +The attitude of the Government towards the Duma is a curious one. +Firstly, by its interpretation of the law, by the addition of qualifying +clauses and amendments, the Government tries, whenever it can, to +diminish the powers that have been granted to the Duma, and more +especially in so far as they concern the Budget; and secondly, the +Government floods the Duma with a great quantity of irrelevant and +trivial legislation with the object of keeping the more vital and +important issues out of its reach. + +This is one reason why any prevailing discontent is prevented from +subsiding, since by acting in this manner the Government never ceases to +fan the smouldering ashes of discontent into flame, and to feed the +flame with slender but continuous supplies of fresh fuel. + +So far, then, we have already one cause of discontent—the attitude of +the Government towards the Duma; and this attitude consists, in a word, +of doing everything it can to prevent the Duma from becoming a reality—a +vital factor in the State—and in trying to convert it into a passive +annex to the Government machine. + +The second question now arises. What has been, and what is, the attitude +of the Central Government towards the remaining promises made by the +Manifesto of October 30th? I will take the promises separately; but +before doing so, it will be as well to point out that, at present, all +matters which are affected by the promises laid down in the Manifesto of +1905 are being carried out by temporary regulations, instead of by laws +passed through the Duma. It is clear that temporary regulations lend +themselves easily to amendment, and amendments signify a deviation from +the original intention of such regulations. Moreover, all temporary +regulations are interpreted by the local officials, whose powers of +interpretation are necessarily arbitrary, and whose powers of evasion, +explanation, and general tergiversation are incredibly ingenious, and +are almost invariably employed in the interests of reaction. I will now +take the various points in order. + +(1.) _The Inviolability of the Person._—With regard to this question, +practically nothing has been done. A Bill on the subject was introduced +by the Government during the third session of the last Duma, but was +rejected by the Duma because it did not affect the root of the question. +Another Bill was introduced later, but has not yet emerged into the +region of fact. The laws of the country on this point are brief and +explicit. They guarantee to the subject a slightly protracted form of +_habeas corpus_, and are summed up in twelve short clauses; but if you +buy the book containing these twelve short clauses, you find they are +followed by a whole volume of amendments, explanations, and rules +relating to exceptional circumstances. Practically, these exceptions +deal for the greater part with so-called political offences; but owing +to the ramifications of these manifold amendments, both the central and +the local authorities can enlarge their conception of what constitutes a +political offence to almost any extent. The interpretation becomes +infinitely elastic; and thus it is easy for people who have no more to +do with politics than the man in the moon to fall under the suspicion of +a political offence, and the life of everyday people is reached and +touched by the ramifications of exceptional clauses made to a clear law, +which was originally passed in order to deal with cases germane to one +exceptional matter, and which could only therefore affect a small +minority. + +Again, all the ordinary laws of the country can be suspended and +overruled by the putting into force of temporary regulations, which are +introduced by the authorities as administrative measures in districts +which are, or are supposed to be, disturbed. + +These temporary measures are in reality minor forms and shades of +martial law. They consist of what are called the state of “Reinforced +Protection,” and the state of “Extraordinary Protection.” + +Both these exception “states” may be proclaimed by the Ministry of the +Interior, after a resolution of the Cabinet Council, which must be +confirmed by the Emperor. + +Under the state of “Reinforced Protection,” governors-general, +governors, and city prefects have the right of inflicting punishment for +the infringement of any rules they may issue by a fine not exceeding 500 +roubles (£50), or by a term of imprisonment not exceeding three months, +without trial. They have also, among other things, the right of +prohibiting public or private meetings, of shutting commercial +establishments, of prohibiting the residence of any person in a given +district. + +Under the state of “Extraordinary Protection” their powers are enlarged. +For instance, a special police can be created, and certain offences can +be removed from the jurisdiction of ordinary courts of law and can be +tried by courts-martial; newspapers and periodicals can be suspended, +and schools can be closed for a period not exceeding one month. The +state of “Reinforced Protection” is still in force at this moment in +many parts of Russia, and although one reads from time to time in the +newspaper that it has been removed from such and such a place, it often +happens that it is merely the name which has been abolished. The +governor will often continue to exercise rights which are supposed to +apply solely to exceptional circumstances. + +Further, these “States of Protection” are often left in force in places +where there is not, and has not been for a reasonable time, a shadow of +disturbance. + +(2.) _Freedom of Conscience._—A law whose sole object was religious +tolerance was passed a few years ago. Theoretically freedom of +conscience is supposed to exist. Practically, it exists only very +partially. If there are fifty members of any religious denomination in +any place in Russia, they are supposed to be allowed to build a church, +where they can worship as they please. But there is a clause in this law +forbidding propaganda; and lately the interpretation of this clause has +become more and more elastic, and in virtue of it technical objections +are raised showing that Catholic or Uniate, or other unorthodox +societies, are not in order, and their churches are consequently closed. +Sometimes technical objections of another nature are found to meet the +case. A case in point is that of the Catholic Uniates who were allowed +by P. A. Stolypin to have a church in St. Petersburg. That church has +now been closed by the Minister of the Interior, Maklakov, on the +grounds that the church building does not fulfil the technical +conditions obligatory to buildings where public meetings are held. +Nothing could be more typical. The tendency during the last three years +has been to take away by means of technical objections, or under the +pretence of having discovered traces of propaganda, the larger liberties +that were given. And this again irritates all those whom it may concern. +As soon as any religious sect is suspected of opening rivalry to the +Orthodox Church, some means or other is immediately found for +prohibiting it. The Salvation Army are not allowed in Russia. Such +things being the case, it would be absurd to say that liberty of +conscience exists in Russia; on the other hand, it exists in larger +measure than it used to. + +(3.) _Freedom of the Press._—Broadly speaking, the Press is free in +Russia at present, and this is perhaps the greatest asset which resulted +from the revolutionary movement. Before 1905, there existed what in +practice, although not in theory, was called “Previous Censure”—that is +to say, representatives of the censorship used to visit the newspaper +offices and censor the newspapers at their own sweet will. At present +people can write what they choose in the newspapers, but the +administration has the right to inflict a fine not exceeding 500 roubles +(£50) on a newspaper (_a_) for publishing false news concerning the +Government; and (_b_) for inciting the populace to rise against the +Government; and in the case of “Extraordinary Protection,” newspapers, +as we have seen, can be stopped altogether. + +The effect of this regulation is felt far more in the provinces than in +the large cities, for it stands to reason that a small newspaper with a +narrow circulation will be more sensitive to such a fine than a large +newspaper with an enormous circulation, to which it will be no more than +a flea-bite. Moreover, the regulation is applied more often and more +indiscriminately in the provinces than in the large cities. + +For instance, the Moscow newspaper, the _Russkoe Slovo_, which I believe +has the largest circulation of any Russian newspaper, published on +November 7, 1913, the following schedule of the fines imposed on +newspapers for comments on the Beiliss trial up to date:— + + _October 24 (November 7, N.S.)._ + Pamphlets confiscated 1 + Newspapers fined 1 + Total fines, 200 roubles (about £20). + + _Total for 30 days of the Beiliss Case._ + Editors arrested 6 + Editors summoned 6 + Newspapers confiscated 27 + Pamphlets confiscated 6 + Newspapers closed 3 + Newspapers fined 42 + Total of fines (up to date) 12,750 roubles (about £1,275). + +A similar schedule, with its daily total of fines, appeared every day +during the ritual murder trial. + +It will be seen that the fines, when added up, do not amount to a very +considerable sum, but a succession of such fines, not large in +themselves, can end by doing damage to a small provincial paper. In any +case they exercise an irritating effect. + +Here again the question of interpretation plays an important part. + +Almost anything can be interpreted as coming under the head of “false +news concerning the Government,” and it is often easy to catch a +newspaper out of a technical inaccuracy, although the statement made may +in its substance be true. + +For instance, if in a schedule such as that I have quoted it were stated +that the editor of such and such a provincial newspaper had been +arrested, and supposing the fact were true; but supposing also he had +been subsequently released, and the news of his release had not reached +the newspaper which published the news of his arrest, the newspaper +would be fined for spreading false news with regard to the action of the +Government. + +Supposing, again, a regulation in a provincial district had been +infringed by an official, and the news of the infringement were +published in a newspaper; if the newspaper made a mistake with regard to +the exact rank of the official in question, it would be fined for +spreading false news. + +Newspapers that copy news from other newspapers which come under the ban +of “false news” are likewise liable to be fined. + +This state of things, although it leaves the richer newspapers +indifferent, exasperates the great mass of the journalistic world beyond +measure. + +(4.) _The right of holding Public Meetings._—Public meetings are +allowed, theoretically, under certain conditions. In the first place, in +order to hold a meeting you must apply for permission to the local +governor, and state the object of the meeting. If the local governor +refuses, you must give up the idea. + +Secondly, a member of the police must be present at any meeting, who +shall have the right of putting a stop to the proceedings if he thinks +the speakers are showing signs of an anti-governmental tendency. + +The police have in the last few years continually enlarged their +conception of what can be considered anti-governmental, so much so that +they often go to a meeting with the sole purpose of stopping it, and +seize the first pretext of so doing, especially if it is a meeting of +working men. The net result of the policy is that public meetings are +rare, even at election times. Even the programmes of concerts must be +sanctioned by the police. + +(5.) _Associations and Societies._—These had a brief and flourishing +existence immediately after the publication of the Manifesto, during the +administration of Count Witte and the session of the first Duma; since +then they have practically ceased to exist. They are entirely subject to +Government control, and have been controlled out of all existence. + +These five clauses which I have just analyzed, if they were carried out +in practice, would confer on the Russian citizen complete rights of +citizenship—in a word, political liberty. As it is, they are either not +carried out at all, or in so far as they are carried out they operate in +virtue of temporary regulations which are (_a_) liable to constant +amendment; (_b_) at the mercy of the interpretation of local officials. + +So, if the attitude of the Government towards the Duma is one great +cause of discontent, the nature and the tendency of local administration +is another. + +The local administration is bad in itself, and has the effect of +exasperating the people. + +One of the reasons why this is so, is the necessity which the local +officials feel themselves to be under of keeping up their prestige, and +the prestige of the Central Government. The result of the policy of +“Order first; Reform afterwards,” as it filtered through the various +branches of administration throughout the country, is that the greatest +crime in the eyes of the administration is criticism—criticism of any +kind—because the slightest breath of criticism is held to be subversive +and detrimental to the prestige of Government; and in the eyes of the +officials, the Government must be upheld at all costs. + +In the country, in the provinces and districts, at the present day in +Russia, the illegality practised by Government officials is more +flagrant than it was before 1905, because before 1905 illegality came +from above, and from above only, and the local Government officials did +not dare to infringe their obligations, but now the illegality is +decentralized, and disseminated throughout the complicated network of +administration. And since any kind of criticism is looked upon as a +crime, those who are guilty of it, or are suspected of being guilty of +it, are liable to meet with every kind of small restriction, check, and +annoyance, and hence the life of the people is interfered with, and +discontent is engendered. + +Nowhere is this clearer than in the part played by the secret police. + +We have said that criticism is regarded as a crime, and as an attack on +the prestige of Government, but the reason of this is that criticism of +governmental methods or officials is regarded as being synonymous with +sympathy with the revolutionaries, and the ideas of the extreme parties, +and this wide definition of criticism includes religious propaganda, the +spreading of false news, and all anti-governmental speech or action. All +these things are regarded as denoting sympathy with revolution, and +revolution in its extreme form. + +This is the view of the administration as a whole, and the view is +strongly reflected in the action of the secret police, which exists all +over the country; and the business of the secret police is, if not to +spread discontent, to make it appear far more formidable than it is; to +make it appear active where in reality it is only passive, otherwise +there would be no reason why a large part of the secret police should +exist at all. + +In order to check and keep an eye on the revolutionary movement, whose +existence the administration suspects everywhere, a wholesale system of +espionage, of secret reports, of private denunciation, exists. The +administration employs a quantity of people who are paid to “sneak” of +what is going on in various quarters. Now the step from the office of +spy to that of _agent provocateur_ is an easy one. It is obvious that a +spy who wishes for further information about people who are thought to +be revolutionaries will obtain that information more easily if he +pretends to be a revolutionary himself. So the spy easily degenerates +into the _agent provocateur_, and the people, knowing that spies and +_agents provocateurs_ exist in their midst, feel they are never safe. +And this feeling that you are never safe, whoever you are, or wherever +you are (for a report may be at any moment being concocted about you, in +the very _milieu_ where you live), gives a constantly increasing +stimulus to discontent. It is not so much the things that happen, but +the feeling that something may happen, that nobody is safe, which +prevents discontent from dying out. Here, as in other respects, the life +of the people is interfered with, and the people are exasperated. + +All that I have written so far applies to Russia proper, but it is +applicable in a higher degree to the Ukraines, to Poland, the Caucasus, +the Baltic provinces, and to Finland. + +In these provinces the arbitrary nature of local administration and the +illegality practised by Government officials is felt more strongly still +than in Russia. Consequently, in all these outlying dominions, there +prevails a greater or a lesser degree of discontent. And this discontent +is further increased by the policy of the Central Government towards +these dominions; for the Government _vis-à-vis_ of the Duma makes +capital out of the question of these different nationalities, and places +in the foreground questions of legislation which concern them. They are +used as a political weapon, as a spring-board for nationalist theory and +practice, and as a means for shelving measures of reform, which deal +with Russia proper. This not only exasperates these various +nationalities to a high degree, but it also exasperates those Russians +who wish to see the reforms that were promised realized in their own +country. + +Finally, the question arises, “Why is this so?” What prevents Russia +from being quietly governed according to the comprehensive laws that +already exist in its code, and according to the admirable and +perspicuous principles of its political constitution? and further, what +prevents the Government from fulfilling those promises made, which are +as yet unfulfilled, and from putting into practice reforms which the +majority of thinking people in Russia agree are indispensable? + +It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to give a satisfactory and +categorical answer to these questions. + +Political Liberals in Russia would probably answer that the old _régime_ +which was scotched but not killed in 1905 is gradually recovering +strength, and is simply fighting for its existence: that it is a case of +self-preservation. On the other hand, there are Independent +Conservatives and Independent Radicals who would tell you that what is +needful in Russia is a strong executive, a drastic and courageous +dictator, who would be strong enough to hew down the impediments, and +cart away the rubbish, and govern Russia according to its ancient +traditions; that this is the only form of government which has ever been +successful in Russia, but that no such man of action is forthcoming at +present. Others, more sceptically inclined, would probably remind you +that every country has the government it deserves; and that if political +liberty in Russia does not exist, it is owing to the fundamental +tendency of the Russian character towards indiscipline, and that since +every Russian is more or less undisciplined, it is impossible for them +to expect that their Government will be anything but arbitrary. + +One thing is certain, the drawbacks, the restraint, the impediments, the +danger of criticism, the checks on free speech, on free worship, and +other forms of freedom, to which I have alluded, naturally touch the +educated part of the population more nearly than they do the great +mass—the majority, the peasants—who at this moment are better off +economically than they have ever been before; and consequently, even if +they are discontented, it stands to reason that in the present +circumstances it would need a powerful stimulus to increase their +discontent to breaking point. + +And what is true about the peasants is true, to a certain extent, about +the remainder of the population. + +The population on the whole are prosperous at the present moment, and +their grievances are neither sharp nor strong enough, nor sufficiently +abundant, to make the temperature of their discontent rise to boiling +point. When the discontent which now exists becomes sufficiently widely +and deeply felt to stir the average man to sympathy with action, and the +abnormal man to violent action, then there may be an outbreak, unless it +be anticipated by timely measures of reform, and the causes of +discontent be removed. + +At present nothing is being done by the Central Government or the local +administration in this direction. At the present moment the local +administration is making capital out of the fear of a revolution and a +revolutionary movement, of whose existence there is little or no +evidence, and infecting the central administration with this fear. Both +the local and the central administration are constantly taking steps and +issuing minor repressive measures to counteract a danger which, in the +opinion of most people, exists only in the imagination of detectives; +but if this policy continues, it is more than probable that the +administrative powers will in time succeed in transforming the danger +from an imaginary one into a real one, or rather, they will create the +very danger they are afraid of; and the next revolution in Russia will +be the offspring of the fears of the administration—of a bogey. + +The last revolutionary movement in Russia had a destructive and +demoralizing effect on the population; it produced a wave of hooliganism +among the lower classes, and a current of anarchical thought and conduct +in the educated classes. It also had a demoralizing effect on the minor +officials and public servants; but whereas in the great majority of the +uneducated and educated public the balance of equilibrium was +automatically restored, owing to the necessities of everyday life and a +natural reaction towards common sense, this demoralization had a more +lasting effect on the officials, who once having been used to meet +exceptional circumstances and lawless acts by arbitrary means and +illegal measures, found it difficult to divest themselves of the habit. +And the lower the rung of the official ladder the more apparent the +demoralization becomes. + +Now, it is the small officials who are more intimately in touch with the +population. Consequently the effect of their action is being continually +felt, and the effect is bad. And until something is done from above to +remedy this state of things, the smouldering embers of discontent, as I +have already said, will never have a chance of growing cold, and may +ultimately burst out in a fire of alarming proportions. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + THE AVERAGE RUSSIAN. + + +The great danger in studying Russian life is to pay so much importance +to the trees that the wood escapes notice. The temptation to do so where +Russia is concerned is all the greater owing to the interest of +individual trees; and by individual trees I mean not only individuals, +but phases, tendencies, currents of thought, particular types, and +political parties. Such types, or schools of thought, or political +groups, although often of great interest in themselves, are rarely +representative of the average tendency; and yet by foreigners it is +often taken for granted that they are not only typical of the whole, but +that nothing else beside them exists. + +There was a time when Russia was supposed to consist entirely of +Nihilists and policemen; at a later period social revolutionaries took +the part of Nihilists, and the _agent provocateur_ played the chief part +in the opposing camp, in the general view one obtained from the foreign +press. + +This general view was, of course, founded on fact. At one period +Nihilists did exist, did conspire, and did blow up. + +As for social revolutionaries, they existed in great quantities, and the +_agents provocateurs_, too, became so numerous that it was scarcely +worth while to be a social revolutionary. These groups are historically +and psychologically worthy of careful study, but they were never +representative of the average Russian, any more than the Fabians or the +militant suffragettes are representative of the average Englishman and +Englishwoman. + +Then again, you get the interesting types created by the masters of +literature. You get Dostoievsky’s neurasthenic murderer, Raskolnikov; +his frigid and calculating political intriguer, Verkhovensky; his +undisciplined and centrifugal Dimitri Karamazov. You get Turgeniev’s +intellectual and uncompromising Bazarov; his enthusiastic sponger and +_génie sans portefeuille_, Rudin; Tolstoy’s Levin, Gorki’s anarchical +proletarian. And all these characters are each of them more interesting +than the other, and all of them reveal qualities that are Russian and +nothing but Russian. But none of them is the average Russian, because +the man of genius, when he creates a type such as _Lear_ or _Faust_, is +not endeavouring to portray the average man, but is making a synthesis +of the human soul; so that every human being can see something of +himself in the mirror of the poet’s creation. But that creation is +larger and wider than nature; and so far from being confined to the +characteristics of the average man, contains within itself all the +possibilities and capabilities and passions of the human soul—all the +strings of the instrument, its whole gamut, its complete range of +expression. + +And the creations of a Russian novelist such as Dostoievsky afford us a +synthesis of the Russian soul, in its profoundest depths, in its sorest +spots, at its widest extremes, at its highest pitch of rapture or +despair. The result is that they are no more portraits of the average +Russian than _Lear_ is a portrait of the average Englishman; and yet +they are profoundly Russian, just as _Lear_ is profoundly English, and +_Faust_ is profoundly German—although _Faust_ is hardly a typical +portrait of the ordinary German bourgeois. + +One of the results which the genius of Russian novelists has had on +foreign opinion is to create a general impression that Russia is a +country of “inspissated gloom,” because the greater number of the +Russian novelists and poets deal with tragic themes, and their +characters are painted in sombre colours. + +There is nothing very strange about this. Happy individuals, like happy +countries, have no history; and if you want to write drama, and +especially tragic drama, the domestic affairs of _Œdipus Rex_ or +_Othello_ obviously offer more fruitful material to the dramatist than +the domestic affairs of Darby and Joan or of Philemon and Baucis. Even +if the writer’s aim is comedy, he will probably choose themes and +material which give occasion for merciless satire or extravagant mirth, +and create characters which on the comic side are as far above or below +the average as those of the poets on the tragic side. _Falstaff_ is just +as extraordinary a character as _Hamlet_, and _Sam Weller_ is just as +exceptional as Napoleon; yet _Sam Weller_, again, is profoundly English. + +In Russia, just as in other countries, the cheerful side of life is +reflected in literature, and the average man plays a part also—only that +branch of Russian literature is less well known. Gogol, for instance, +has created innumerable comic types; and Pushkin has, in his +masterpiece, _Evgenie Oniegin_, drawn a masterly portrait of an average +type, and more especially in Tatiana he has given us a lifelike portrait +of the soul of the Russian woman, which is a radiant soul. But Gogol is +less well known abroad than Turgeniev; and Pushkin’s work being written +in verse, suffers badly from inadequacy—or, rather, impossibility—of +translation. + +The net result is that the impression the outside reader obtains from +such Russian literature as is available to him is that Russia is a +gloomy country, and that the Russian people are steeped in a cloud of +permanent melancholy. And yet the first thing that strikes you when you +go to Russia is the cheerfulness[11] of the people and the good humour +of the average man. Not long ago, _apropos_ of an article on +Dostoievsky’s _Idiot_, a well-known Russian artist wrote to _The Times_, +saying that you might just as well judge the English people by _The City +of Dreadful Night_ as the Russian people by Dostoievsky’s characters. +The writer of the article explained, in answer, that he was not judging +the Russian people at all, but only the faith of Dostoievsky. And +although I think the writer’s purpose was plain, and that he achieved it +admirably, nevertheless the Russian artist’s complaint, if it did not +apply to the writer of that article, was a wholesome reminder to the +public in general that the creations of Dostoievsky are creations of +genius, and creations of tragic genius profoundly Russian, but dealing +almost exclusively with the tragic adventures of the soul (which is, +after all, the business of tragedy), and leaving out its sunnier +experiences. As the Russian artist pointed out, there is another side to +the medal of Russian life, and not only a bright side, but an unusually +bright side—the _svietlaya duscha_, the radiant soul of which the +Russian poet speaks, whose radiance, in my opinion, is nowhere plainer +than in Dostoievsky’s novels, in spite of, and sometimes even because +of, the encircling gloom. + +It stands to reason that, if all Russians were as melancholy as they are +depicted as being in many Russian novels and plays written by men of +genius, the great majority of the Russian nation would have cut their +throats a long time ago. + +It is evident that there must be a great deal of cheerfulness, humour, +and joy to counterbalance the gloom, the anguish, and the melancholy +which is so vividly and so poignantly described by so many Russian +authors, or else life would not go on. + +This is just what is the case. The Russian goes easily to extremes: he +is not, as a rule, fond of half measures; so that when he is melancholy, +his melancholy takes an extreme form. He is fond of going the whole hog; +and if he is inclined to neurasthenia and hysteria, he will give full +scope to his fancy in that direction: he will be not uninclined to say +with Baudelaire, “_J’ai cultivé mon hystérie avec jouissance et +terreur._” + +But the average Russian is, perhaps, little more inclined to +neurasthenia than the average Englishman. The average Russian is well +educated, cheerful, sociable, intensely gregarious, hospitable, +talkative, expansive, good-humoured, and good-natured. You hear often in +Russia the phrase _shirokaya natura_ applied to the Russian +temperament—a large nature. It means that the Russian temperament is +generous, unstinted, democratic, and kind. Good-heartedness, and +sometimes great-heartedness, is the great asset of the average Russian. +He is the most tolerant of human beings. He is preeminently indulgent, +and extends to the faults and failings of his neighbours the same +indulgence which he knows his own faults and failings will receive at +his neighbour’s hands. His lack of hypocrisy, and the manner in which he +will speak of his own shortcomings and deficiencies, will sometimes +strike the foreigner as being the quintessence of cynicism. + +One of the most contented Russians I ever met was a man who had got the +post of assistant ticket-collector on a small railway line. His duty was +to check the ticket collector. This man had once upon a time been +enormously rich. He had possessed estates, where he entertained his +friends on a large scale, and provided them with every kind of amusement +in the way of sport. Besides this, he had a private theatre of his own +and a private orchestra. He spent all his money in this way, until there +was none left, and he was obliged to accept what post he could get. But +as an insignificant public servant on the railway line he was just as +cheerful as ever; he said that he had just as much fun. “I used to drink +champagne,” he explained, “now I drink vodka; the result is the same in +the long run. I used to have a lot of money. I’ve spent it; money is +meant to spend. What is the good of keeping or hoarding it? One can’t +take it with one when one dies.” + +This man had a _shirokaya natura_—a large and generous temperament. +There was no trace of neurasthenia observable in his character. +Stinginess is a quality which is rare in Russia. Thrift and economy are +not among those virtues which are commonest there. On the other hand, +broadness of mind and largeness of heart are virtues which are among the +commonest. + +After Count Tolstoy died a posthumous play of his was published, called +_The Living Corpse_. The subject of the play was a story that happened +in real life, taken straight from the newspaper, with the names and the +_milieu_ changed, and it struck me, when I read it and saw it acted, as +being typical of Russian life—a story which could only happen in Russia. +It is perhaps worth while retelling it here, as it throws more light on +the subject than pages of argument. + +The story is as follows. Liza Protasova leaves her husband Feodor, whom +she had loved, because he is + + “A little slovenly in dress, + A trifle prone to drunkenness.” + +Not a bad man, but weak, extravagant, and given to periodic outbreaks, +when he spends the night listening to gipsies singing, and drinking +champagne. You must know Russia to understand what listening to gipsies +means, and you must be well inoculated with gipsy music before you +understand the tyrannical spell of it. It is in a lesser degree like +smoking opium. + +Apart from these more or less venial failings, Feodor, as I have said, +is not a bad man, nor is he even an unfaithful husband. Nevertheless, +his wife, after one of these periodic outbursts, leaves him and returns +to her mother, who thoroughly approves of such a course. But no sooner +has Liza taken this step than she repents herself of it, and she sends +Feodor a message by one Karenin asking him to come back to her. Karenin +is an honest prig and a bore. He is also in love with Liza. He executes +the commission; but Feodor is listening to the gipsies, and especially +to one of them called Masha, and he refuses to go back. + +Weeks go by, and then months. Karenin loves Liza; Liza loves Karenin. +Masha loves Feodor. Liza’s mother wishes her daughter to be divorced and +to marry Karenin. An embassy with this proposal is dispatched to Feodor. +But according to the Russian law in such a case, in order to get a +divorce when a wife has left her husband because she no longer wishes to +be his wife, the husband must take the guilt on himself. He must declare +himself a guilty, unfaithful husband; and if he is not one, he must +concoct sham evidence to show that he is, and swear to it. This Feodor +refuses to do, because he is not guilty; he has not been unfaithful. He +says, “I have been a bad husband, I am a worthless man; but there are +things which I cannot do, and one of them is quietly to tell the +necessary lies in order to make this divorce possible.” He seeks another +solution. He finds a simple one—suicide. But when the revolver is at his +temple he hesitates, in an agony; and at that moment Masha the gipsy +intervenes, sees what is happening, and suggests another solution—that +he should let the world think he had killed himself, and in reality +escape with her into the limbo of the disclassed, leaving his wife free +to marry Karenin. He does this. He writes a letter to his wife, saying +that he is about to kill himself; he leaves his clothes by the river. +The plan succeeds; by chance a corpse is found. Liza says it is that of +her husband (and it is no use saying that this is improbable, because it +all happened). Feodor and Masha disappear, and Karenin marries Liza. All +is for the best, for them. + +Feodor sinks deeper into the mud; and one fine day, when he is telling +his story to a friend in a squalid tavern, he is overheard by a kind of +tramp, who, quick to see the possible profit arising out of such a +situation, suggests to Feodor a scheme of joint blackmail—that they +should blackmail Liza. Feodor tells him to go to what I see now is +prettily called “the underground world”; and the tramp, in a rage, calls +a policeman and gives Feodor in charge for bigamy. But not only is +Feodor had up for bigamy, but his wife and Karenin also: they are +charged with conspiracy—if that be the right term—for having been privy +to the scheme, and for having paid Feodor to get out of the way and to +become a “living corpse.” The maximum penalty of the law for bigamy is +exile to Siberia; the minimum what is called “Church contrition.” But in +any case the second marriage is cancelled, and if Karenin, Feodor, and +Liza were acquitted of conspiracy, Liza and Feodor would nevertheless be +bound to resume their interrupted married life. The lawyers do not +believe a word of the true story as it is told by the witnesses; and +Feodor, to prevent Liza from being bound to him once more, commits +suicide in the corridor of the law courts during the trial. That is the +story, and such are the facts—such as they actually happened in real +life. + +In this story Feodor, both in his faults and in his good qualities, is +intensely typical of the Russian character. + +This story illustrates the melancholy side of Russian life. To convince +yourself of the cheerful side of the Russian character, you have only to +look at any regiment of Russian soldiers marching through a street and +singing as they march. It is the melancholy note of Russian music that +is best known abroad. But cheerful songs and choruses exist in great +abundance, and if you listen to the people in villages singing in the +summer night, it is nearly always a cheerful song that you will hear to +the accompaniment of the accordion; and often the songs are not only +cheerful but irresistible in their lilt. The sense of rhythm of some of +the village singers, and especially of the accompanists, whether they +play the accordion or the three-stringed guitar, the _balalaika_, is +sure, masterly, and astounding. The accompanist follows the singer with +an infinite diversity in unity, and while varying all the time, and +introducing fantastic changes and daring improvisations, he never loses +hold of the main trend of the subject, of the fundamental rhythm: he +varies with invariable law. + +Such music is infectious and captivating. It would inspire the lame to +dance and the dead to walk. It is untiring. It seems to be able to go on +and on for ever without pause or hesitation, and to reveal a fresh +energy and to draw a new supply of strength with every new verse. + +The average Russian is not only fond of music—he likes noise. Formerly +in the restaurants there used to be large barrel organs or orchestrons. +Now in the smarter restaurants there are bands of stringed instruments, +and in the eating-houses of the poor, gramophones. Indeed, the +popularity of gramophones in Russia is extraordinary. A love of +gramophones is surely the sign of a cheerful temperament. + +The amusement which the Russian is fondest of when he wants to have a +really good time is to go and listen to gipsies. The entertainment is +worth describing, as it is the unique property of Russia, and is the one +thing you can almost be sure the average Russian will understand, just +as you will be sure the average Englishman will understand a sporting +contest or a music-hall comic turn. + +Looked at from the outside, as you see it, for instance, on the stage in +Tolstoy’s play, this is what you see. A private room in a restaurant. It +is rather dingy. In the corner there is a battered piano, much the worse +for wear. On the walls, looking-glasses. At one end of the room a plush +sofa. In front of it a table, champagne bottles, and glasses. + +The spectators sit on the sofa. In front of them, occupying the whole of +the other side of the room, is the chorus of gipsies. The gipsies are +not raggle-taggle people in shabby and gorgeous clothes. They are a +chorus of men and women in ordinary dress, who, though swarthy in +complexion, look like the audience in the upper circle at a Queen’s Hall +concert. + +The gipsies show signs of the boredom and fatigue common to +professionals engaged in the performance of their professional duties. +They yawn. One of them has got a toothache and a swollen face. They +carry on an undercurrent of irrelevant conversation amongst themselves, +while they automatically sing. The outsider will notice the mechanical +side of the gaiety and the poetry they are paid to evoke. The candles on +the table are guttering, and through the windows of the cheerless +private room the cold dawn pierces, or the bright sun streams, as the +case may be. + +But those who are of the feast, and in it, notice none of these things. +They are there for glamour, and they have got it. Oblivious of every +sordid detail, and of all the mechanism, they are aware only of the +poetry, the romance, and the passion evoked by a wailing concord of +piercing, discordant sounds which play on the nerves like a bow upon +strings. + +The chorus sit in a semicircle, a man with a guitar stands up and leads +the chorus, his guitar and his body swaying to the rhythm. A woman takes +a solo part. The chorus rises into a wail as loud and as fierce as the +howling of a pack of wolves, and then dies away in an unsatisfied sigh. + +The first time you hear this monotonous and exasperating music you may +think it disagreeable; but the moment you are bitten by the music and +infected with it, the sensation is rather like this: first you tremble +all over as with a fever; then you are aware that the fever is pleasant. +Then you forget all this: you are far away amid white dawns and +sleepless midnights, and when you are brought back to reality, you +demand—you insist on—one more glimpse of that sweet and bitter, that +discordant and melodious, fairyland. + +The gipsy music certainly has the quality of growing on you. It +intoxicates some people. They are bitten by it to such an extent that +they crave for it, as for a drug. They cannot do without it. Others are +invincibly bored. But to the average Russian, to go and listen to +gipsies, when you wish to enjoy yourself especially, is a common custom, +and an expensive custom, so that, as a rule, people club together when +they wish to treat themselves to this luxury. + +The expense is part of the fun. If the average Russian wants to +celebrate a feast of any kind he wishes to add to the festivity the +spice of recklessness which the feeling that he is spending more than he +can afford will give him. And if on such occasions he falls into the +spending mood, he will spend recklessly. + +He is generous, and, as a rule, careless about money. An enormous amount +of borrowing is constantly going on. A asks B to lend him a hundred +roubles. B complies at once, although he hasn’t got it, and borrows it +from C. Laxity in money matters, which is fairly common, is probably in +some degree the result of the widespread administrative venality in the +past, which was in its turn the inevitable fruit of long years of +unchecked bureaucracy in a large country. At the height of the old +_régime_ venality was in Russia a natural corrective to the narrowness +or severity of regulations. Toleration was obtained by bribery. The +schismatics, or the Jews, or any class which suffered from +administrative disabilities, got round them by bribery. Again, when you +have a bureaucracy on a very large scale, a great number of the minor +public servants cannot possibly live on their wages: they will be +certain to supplement their insufficient incomes by exacting and +receiving bribes. Administrative corruption was at one time practically +universal in Russia. It has received much more than a considerable check +since the creation of the Duma and the increased liberty of the Press, +since in the Duma questions can be asked, and transactions can be +brought to the public notice which in the old days were securely +screened from all possible investigation or inquiry. + +The average Russian was probably not more venal than the average native +of any other country. Some of the causes of his venality were common to +the human race, and were such as produce venality in any time and in any +country; and chief amongst these is the one I have already mentioned—the +underpayment of the public servant. Another cause of corruption was the +irresponsibility of officials. Until the Duma was made, public officials +were, as a rule, immune from the law which in theory laid down severe +penalties against all abuse of authority and all illegalities committed +by officials in the performance of their public duties. All this has +changed in the last ten years, and is changing still; there is +infinitely less administrative corruption than there was. The average +middle-aged Russian of to-day was brought up in an atmosphere in which +the public revenue was regarded as a fair game for exploitation, and +those who cheated the State, or made money by bribery or any illicit +means of any kind, were treated with the utmost tolerance. + +In spite of this, the average Russian is not one whit more dishonest or +immoral than his fellow-creatures in neighbouring countries. But if he +is dishonest, his failing will be far more noticeable than that of the +dishonest in other countries: firstly, because he will take infinitely +less pains, or no pains at all, to conceal it; he will not hide it under +a veneer of hypocrisy—he will wear it on his sleeve; secondly, because +he is fundamentally good-natured, and his good nature varies from +heights of Christian charity on the one hand, to depths of complete +moral laxity on the other. On the one hand you have Dostoievsky’s +utterly disinterested Mwyskin, and on the other hand Gogol’s completely +venal Khlestyakov. The average Russian will probably have a dose of both +qualities. + +The average Russian is, above all things, a sociable being, who is fond +of eating good solid food and drinking vodka, and who is averse to +strenuous mental or physical exertion. This does not mean that you will +not find any amount of hard workers in Russia; but I am talking of the +average man. And it is just the average man, _Monsieur Tout-le-Monde_, +the man in the street, who is left out of the discussion when people +think, talk, or write of Russia. The intellectuals are discussed, the +Nihilists, the Socialists, the revolutionaries, the extreme +reactionaries, the man of genius, the criminal, the martyr, the hero, +the scoundrel, the æsthete. But the average Russian is, as a rule, +neither a hero, a genius, a scoundrel, nor an æsthete. But he is in the +long run the man who counts. It is with his sanction and co-operation +alone that any great change has been made in Russian history. At the +beginning of the Russo-Japanese war, he, the man in the street, was +mildly in favour of it. After the initial reverses he was angrily in +favour of it. After several months he was angrily against it, and his +anger was directed against the Government. So much so, that the +Government was compelled to take active steps, and to promise tangible +reform. The climax of the hostility of public opinion happened when the +whole country went on strike in the autumn of 1905. Then, for one +moment, the whole of Russia was in agreement, and public opinion was +consequently irresistible. Later on, when political parties were formed, +public opinion was no longer at one, and weakness began to set in. + +Finally, when the constitutional and peaceable reformers had succeeded +in effecting nothing beyond the creation of the Duma (which was in +itself an immense step), and the militant reformers had merely achieved +a series of sporadic acts of terrorism, one result of which was that the +whole of the criminal classes followed their example and adopted their +methods for the purposes of individual hooliganism—the average Russian, +the man in the street, was alienated from the revolutionary movement, +and no longer gave it his support. Naturally enough, for his pocket and +his person were no longer safe. The street became no place for a man. He +could no longer go for a walk in it without the possibility of having +his private purse “expropriated.” + +Political theory had become a practical fact with a vengeance so far as +the criminal class were concerned. And the political terrorists had +taught the impartial burglar the use and convenience of the Browning +pistol, and had shown him how easy it was to rob a bank by bluff or +dynamite. And as soon as the man in the street condemned revolutionary +methods in Russia, the revolutionary movement came to an end. It could +not live without his inarticulate support, without his active or passive +sympathy. + +And what is the average man doing or thinking now? + +The answer to such a question must necessarily depend on the exact +moment at which it is put. Had it been put in the summer of 1913—in +July, say—it would have been safe to say in answer to this question, and +in reviewing public opinion during the last two years, that the average +Russian was consciously or unconsciously feeling the effects of the +increased and ever increasing prosperity of the country; that he was +manifesting indifference both towards internal and foreign politics; +that he was making and spending money, and falling into a lethargy of +prosperous materialism. But the autumn of 1913 has already shown how +rash it would have been to make any such definite statement, without +qualification, and without leaving a door open upon fresh possibilities. + +In spite of the increasing prosperity of the country—in spite of the +rapid strides that education is making—seeds of discontent, which so far +from being removed from above have been watered from above, have lately +been making themselves manifest. And if it is too much—and it is too +much—to say that the average Russian is as yet affected, it is at all +events true that a considerable section of the educated, political, and +commercial community, including many men well known in the political +world who had hitherto supported the Government, are complaining in no +uncertain voice of the acts of the administration. + +There exist in Russia a great many antiquated and useless things in the +shape of legislative and hampering regulations which need sweeping away. +If the local administration of the country were universally excellent +and competent, the average man would not probably trouble his head about +them. But the local administration of the country is neither excellent +nor competent: its acts are often perilously illegal. And it is +difficult to see how it could be otherwise, until the remains of the old +_régime_ are swept away from above, and a new _régime_ is inaugurated. +So far from anything being done in this direction, the old _régime_ is +being bolstered up; and so far from keeping their promises of reform, +the central administration has been busy taking away, or limiting, what +had already been given. The result of this has been that the Government +has succeeded in exasperating a large part of the educated portion of +the community. Discontent is being expressed. The Government has +succeeded in rousing at least one section of the population from the +lethargy brought on by prosperity; and as soon as this discontent has +become sufficiently widespread, and sufficiently strong and universal to +cause the man in the street not only to speak out, but, if not to act, +at least to sympathize with action, then, unless some timely measures +are taken from above, it is possible that efforts may be made from below +to remove the causes of discontent. + +In the meantime the man in the street is certainly aware of the +prevalence of discontent, and in many cases and places he is acutely +discontented himself. It would be idle to speculate on what proportions +his discontent will reach, and what its effect will be either in the +immediate or the remote future. The future will answer this question. +But ultimately, I think, it is safe to say that the achievement of +political liberty in Russia will depend not on the dynamite and the +death of revolutionaries however self-sacrificing and however ardent, +nor on the measures of a statesman however far-seeing and however wise, +but on the will and desire of the average man. On the day the average +man really desires political liberty he will get it. So far, the only +thing he has desired and obtained is individual liberty—liberty of +thought, _liberté des mœurs_. In order to obtain political liberty, he +will no doubt have to sacrifice a portion of the unbounded power he now +enjoys of doing exactly what he likes in the sphere of personal conduct, +because political liberty implies personal discipline, or a certain +amount of personal discipline. Will the average Russian make a +sacrifice? That depends, perhaps, on what store he will ultimately set +on political life and political freedom; on how far indifference will +prevail; and also on the future policy and quality of the local and +central administration. But in the long run the question as to whether +any efforts towards obtaining political liberty will be successful or +not, depends on the generation which is growing up, and which is as yet +an unknown quantity. But whatever strange and new fruits the coming +generation may bring forth, one thing is certain—no vital changes will +come about in Russian life without the conscious or unconscious +co-operation of the average man. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + THE LIBERAL PROFESSIONS. + + +In Russia the representatives of the liberal professions—lawyers, +doctors, professors, literary men, agricultural experts, statists, +schoolmasters, journalists—are denoted, as a rule, by the generic term +_intelligentsia_. The term is elastic, and its use, as I know by +experience, can easily lead to the greatest misunderstandings; the +reason of this being that the word is sometimes used in a broad sense, +and sometimes in a narrow sense, and sometimes in a still narrower +sense. That is to say, the word _intelligentsia_ is sometimes used by +Russians to denote anybody who can read or write, anybody who has +received a certain education. That is the broadest sense of the word. In +this, its largest sense, the word means the whole of the middle class, +from which nine-tenths of the officials and public servants are drawn. + +But when Russians use the word _intelligentsia_, they generally mean the +members of the liberal professions, exclusive of officials. + +Again, some Russians use the word _intelligentsia_ in a still narrower +sense, in order to denote not a class but a frame of mind; they use the +word as we use a phrase such as “Nonconformist conscience:” and in this +sense the member of the _intelligentsia_ could belong to any class, just +as in England a Liberal, a Nonconformist, or a vegetarian could belong +to any class. And it is the use of the word in this narrower sense that +leads to misunderstanding. For if you describe or speak of the +attributes and the characteristics of the _intelligentsia_ in this +narrower sense, you run the risk of labelling the whole middle class of +Russia with characteristics which do not apply to them; just as if in +England the word Nonconformist were used not only to denote the +Nonconformist sect, but the whole of the English middle class. + +So, before going further, it is well to make one’s position quite clear. +In using the term _intelligentsia_ in this chapter, I mean to denote, +firstly, the representatives of the liberal professions—lawyers, +doctors, literary men, professors, schoolmasters, students, journalists, +statists, and agricultural experts—the educated middle class, the +intellectuals; and, secondly, the semi-intellectuals and the +half-educated. + +The intellectuals form, at the present moment in Russia, a factor of +great interest and of great importance. They are largely represented by +a political party, called the Constitutional Democrats, the Kadets, +which played an important part in the revolutionary movement. The whole +mass of the newspapers, both in the provinces and in Moscow and St. +Petersburg, with the exception of some organs of a conservative and +reactionary tendency, are edited by the intellectuals among the +_intelligentsia_; and the ordinary staff of every newspaper, who make +the paper, are recruited from the semi-intellectuals of the +_intelligentsia_. It was the _intelligentsia_ which, in the struggle for +liberation, supplied the rank and file of the army, of which the county +councils were the spokesmen and the leaders. + +There is, as Mr. Stephen Grahame, one of the most competent of modern +observers of modern life in Russia, says, an articulate part of the +_intelligentsia_, which he calls the higher _intelligentsia_, containing +a great number of cultured and educated people; and side by side with +this, there has sprung up lately a _bourgeoisie_ that calls itself +_intelligentsia_—a lower middle class, which takes to itself fifty per +cent. of the children born in the great towns to-day. Mr. Grahame calls +this the lower _intelligentsia_, and stigmatizes this latter class in +severe terms as being materialistic and cynical. + +I propose, then, to divide the middle class into two divisions—the +educated and the half-educated. + +Ever since the revolutionary movement the _intelligentsia_ as a whole +has come in for a large measure of abuse, not only from its enemies, but +from members of its own class. It has for the first time in its +comparatively brief history, if we except occasional indirect criticism, +been subjected to a fierce and systematic criticism from the inside; the +reason of this being that many Russian thinkers are convinced that the +course of the revolutionary movement and the action of the first two +Dumas showed that politically the Russian _intelligentsia_ was immature, +inexperienced, unfit for political leadership, incapable of +statesmanship, divorced in ideas and feelings from the people, and +incapable of heading a popular movement. Some of these critics have gone +further, and have dwelt on the religious indifferentism of the +_intelligentsia_ as a class as the explanation of the inability of the +_intelligentsia_ to act on the masses in Russia. + +“The fact is,” M. Bulgakov writes in the _Russian Review_ of November +1912, “that educated or especially half-educated Russian society in its +average representatives is almost without exception atheistic, or, to +put it more correctly, indifferent to religion. A very superficial +religious indifferentism, expressed most naturally in atheism, is met +with on all sides, and everywhere in the Russian _intelligentsia_. The +various political tendencies and parties among the _intelligentsia_ +carry on violent disputes with regard to various dogmas of sociological +and political catechism, but do not discuss the existence or +non-existence of God, or this or that religious belief. Here there are +no questions, for it is taken for granted that there can be no talk of +religion for the educated man, because religion is incompatible with +enlightenment.” He goes on to say that the dogma that science has once +and for all disposed of religion altogether is assimilated early in life +by the “intelligent,” and in most cases is not re-examined for the rest +of his life. “In religion the Russian _intelligentsia_ shows a kind of +mental deficiency; on the average it is not above but below ideas of +religion, for it has never properly experienced them.” + +This being so, the critics of the _intelligentsia_ go on to say “that +this lack of religion condemns them to remain out of touch with the +people, for if they are divorced from the people in that which the +people hold most sacred, how can they come close to them at all?” + +There is nothing new in such criticism and such strictures; nearly all +outside observers of Russia have said the same thing in the past. What +is new is the quarter whence the criticism proceeds—namely, from the +inside, from the _intelligentsia_ itself; and this signifies that a +reaction, or rather a revolt, is proceeding in some quarters amidst this +prevailing materialism and this superficial indifferentism. + +These are questions which are of great interest to the Russian reader. +To the English reader, who probably has not the slightest idea of the +nature of the ordinary member of the _intelligentsia_, the question is +probably less interesting. + +Again, such critics, in writing for a Russian audience or for an English +audience more or less acquainted with Russia, are not under the +obligation of qualifying their statements by pointing out the good +qualities and the merits of the _intelligentsia_, because they know that +their readers are well aware of them, and will take them for granted. + +But as the English reader is unaware of their qualities, either good or +bad, it would be misleading to dwell greatly on defects to those who are +unacquainted with the general atmosphere and the main characteristics of +the people under discussion. + +In the first place, the members of the _intelligentsia_ are Russians. +This fact, strangely enough, seems often to be lost sight of by their +opponents, who talk of them as if they were made of some totally +different substance from the remaining part of the Russian people. And +if this is true of the _intelligentsia_, it is still more true of the +official world. Writers, and especially English writers, talk of Russian +officials as if they too were made of some different stuff—as if they +were a race apart which had nothing in common with the rest of the +Russian people. This is not so. The _intelligentsia_ and the officials +are Russians; and being Russians, they have certain qualities and +certain defects which are probably common to all Russians, which are the +natural result of the Russian temperament. Where they differ from the +classes which are above them or beneath them is in their education—or +rather in the effect which that education has had upon them. The disease +is the same; it is the way of taking it which is different. + +They are extremely well educated; infinitely, incomparably better +educated than the average Englishman. They are sometimes over-educated. +The Russian mind assimilates with ease; it apprehends with incredible +quickness; it is sensitive, receptive, plastic, agile. Such qualities in +the case of men who are naturally thoughtful, studious, and serious, +lead, of course, to a wide and deep culture. But in the case of the +half-educated—in the case of people who quickly assimilate a smattering +of the ideas that are in the air all over Europe—the result is a radical +immaturity, something that is immature in its very overripeness, +something shallow, thin, and superficial. + +In spite of this, if you take the average Russian of the educated middle +class, he is extremely well educated—so much better educated than the +average educated Englishman that comparison would be silly. The average +Scotsman would compare favourably with him, and the average German: only +the Russian has a quicker, more adaptable mind; and he is more +inquisitive of what is going on outside the walls of his country than +the average Frenchman. + +If you took an average schoolboy of thirteen, and put him at an English +public school, he would find the work given to an average English +schoolboy of thirteen not only easy, but childish. + +Moreover, the educated Russian is far more catholic in his culture than +the average Englishman. A certain grasp of mathematics, of political +economy and physical science, a knowledge of European history, would be +looked upon by him as a matter of course, whereas the English public +schools and universities turn out not only undergraduates but dons who +have specialized in one subject—and sometimes not well in that—but +reveal an astounding ignorance in every other branch of human knowledge. + +I remember once a Russian pointing out to me some remarks written in a +popular book by an English don, and remarking that a Russian child could +not possibly have written anything so silly. I, indeed, needed no +persuasion. On the other hand, I remember one of the more radical +members of the first Duma pointing out to me that in matters of +practical political organization an English child could give the Russian +political leaders points. + +Most educated Russians are familiar with the works of Herbert Spencer, +Huxley, John Morley, Buckle, and John Stuart Mill. They are at the same +time not only familiar with, but acutely appreciative of, humorous and +serious English literature—of Dickens, Bret Harte, Wells, Jerome K. +Jerome, Conan Doyle, etc. + +One of the stock things you constantly hear said about Russians is that +they are wonderful linguists. I believe this generalization to be +largely built on the prowess of Russian men and women who have had +foreign nurses and governesses. It is true that in St. Petersburg and +Moscow society every one talks French, and most people talk English, and +nearly every one knows German. It cannot be said that the English of St. +Petersburg is of the purest. It is a dialect peculiar to St. Petersburg, +and full of strange idioms translated from the French. Such phrases as, +for instance, “One says he is very frightful” (meaning, “They say he is +very frightening”), or, “I find her a bother” (meaning a bore), are +characteristic of that fluent dialect. However, if it is not pure, it is +at any rate fluent. + +But if you take the average representative of the middle classes in +Russia, you will sometimes meet with a knowledge of French, more often +with a knowledge of German, and seldom with a conversational knowledge +of English; but not universally with either of these three. Nor will you +find that the average representative of the Russian middle class learns +these languages with more than average speed when he is abroad; although +the Russian is, as a rule, very quick to appreciate shades of meaning +and forms of humour which are peculiar to other languages than his own. + +Taken as a whole, the middle class in Russia is cultivated, widely and +deeply cultured in its upper strata, and in its best representatives +more widely cultured than the average Frenchman or German. In its lower +strata, among the half-educated, the “little learning” that has been +rapidly assimilated has indeed proved a dangerous thing, and has +produced in the head of the individual a salad of half-baked philosophy +and superficial Nihilism which remains fixed for ever like a dogma. + +In this sense the half-educated in Russia are in a state of adolescence. +They have cast aside what they regard as the superstitions of boyhood, +and they have accepted as incontrovertible dogma the ideas which they +believe to be the most advanced in Western Europe, and have poured them +into a fixed mould, where they remain stereotyped for the rest of their +lives. + +This is what M. Bulgakov means when he says the half-educated in Russia +are not above religion, but below it; not superior to it, but inferior +to it. + +In using the word half-educated, I am alluding to the larger class of +people in Russia who have just emerged above the surface of the +uneducated: members of the proletariat often, peasants sometimes who +have received half an education, clerks and minor public servants, and +students who have not passed any of the higher standards. It is amongst +this class that you find a chaos and welter of half-baked ideas; it is +here that you find a jumble, a salad of ill-assimilated and +strangely-assorted goods, a flotsam and jetsam of Western philosophies +and theories, crystallized and hardened into rigid dogma, and clung to +and paraded with a desperate _amour propre_ and a fierce tenacity. It +is, of course, the negative philosophies which are chosen. When a +schoolboy reaches the age of adolescence—when he first makes the +discovery in England, say, of Renan on the one hand, and of Swinburne, +Ibsen, and Nietzsche on the other—he is tremendously proud of what seems +to him his bold and rebellious “views:” he labels himself a +“freethinker” and a pagan. He is filled with iconoclastic zeal. He feels +like young Siegfried about to storm Walhalla, and bid its tottering +halls crumble before his sword. If he is at the university, he will +perhaps refuse to go to chapel from conscientious scruples, and he will +wear a red tie on Sunday to show he is a Socialist. + +“I read the Gospel as an ordinary book,” said a young freethinker to the +late Dr. Jowett, the Master of Balliol. “Really, Mr. Smith,” said the +master, “you must find it a very extraordinary book.” + +Later on he finds the question is not quite so simple as he imagined, +and that the old-fashioned superstitions are tougher than he imagined; +that science has not spoken the last word on religion; and that certain +facts and ideas had perhaps escaped his plausible philosophy. He makes +the discovery that the higher criticism is not always infallible, and +that disbelief is sometimes quite as intolerant as belief; that +freethinkers are not always free. In fact, he grows up. + +But in the case of the Russian half-educated, they do not, as a rule, +grow up intellectually. They reach the stage of rebellious and +destructive denial, and remain there. Fragments of Nietzsche, Marx, and +Schopenhauer contribute to the intellectual salad which constitutes +their negative creed; and once that creed is formed, it no longer +develops—because the atmosphere in which the half-educated live in in +Russia they will meet with nothing to counterbalance this negative +influence. They regard this negative philosophy as a thing which is +taken for granted by all sensible and educated men, a thing about which +there can be no possible doubt. Atheism is a matter of course, like a +pair of trousers. There can be no other possible creed for an educated +man. If a man is not an atheist he is not educated. Intellectually he +wears his shirt outside his belt, and not tucked in. Socialism or +Anarchism is the only possible political creed. If a man is not a +Socialist or an Anarchist, he is obviously a member of the “black-gang” +of reaction. Any educated man who goes to church or is religious is, in +the eyes of the half-educated, a member of the black-gang—a fanatic, an +anti-Semite, an obscurantist. + +He will remain stationary in this negative view, because this view is in +the air he breathes and amongst the people with whom he consorts. He +will never come across the contrary view; and he will consequently take +for granted that all views to the contrary, all religious belief, all +disbelief in disbelief, are confined to the uneducated, and that as soon +as the uneducated (the peasants) receive the “light,” they will free +themselves from these old-fashioned and cumbrous shackles of +superstition. He will be, moreover, immensely proud of his negative +creed, which he will regard as the hall-mark of culture and the password +which admits him to the intellectual parliament of man, the enlightened +federation of the world. + +Mr. Belloc, in one of his essays, I think, tells the story of an +educated man who lived alone and isolated in a village in the Vosges, +far removed from towns, railways, and means of communication. Thither +Mr. Belloc wandered one day, and this man, who entertained him, unpacked +with pride the baggage of portable atheism which was current in the +’fifties. Mr. Belloc told him atheism was no longer thought to be an +indispensable hall-mark of education, and no longer regarded as the key +to all philosophies. He was distressed and bewildered. That is exactly +what the half-educated in Russia are now being told by many Russian +writers—Berdayev, Bulgakov, Ern, Rachinsky, Florensky, Kozhevnikov, +Samarin, Mansurov; but the news has not yet penetrated into their inner +consciousness. + +It had already been proclaimed by greater men than these—by Dostoievsky, +Tyutchev, and Soloviev; but the message of these men of genius has not +reached the hearts of the half-educated in Russia. They are still in the +stage of the Oxford undergraduate who reads the Gospel as an “ordinary +book.” + +But let us leave the half-educated and go back to the fully-educated. It +is, perhaps, needless to say that Russia is rich in men of European +reputation who have rendered noble service to science in many branches, +and especially in medicine. What is perhaps less well known to English +readers is that in the medical profession in Russia not only will you +find many names which enjoy a European reputation, but the standard of +competence, knowledge, and ability is almost universally high. All over +Russia, no matter how remote the place, you will be sure to find a +general practitioner who is not only highly competent, but highly +cultivated. Moreover, these doctors live the hardest and most +self-sacrificing of lives: they drive long distances in all weathers; +they have to struggle against the enormous odds imposed on them by the +rigorous climate, the poverty and the backwardness of the great mass of +the people; and often they have to deal with scourges, such as epidemics +of typhus, cholera, and even plague. + +Socially, the average member of the Russian middle class is attractive, +expansive, and easy to get on with. He is completely devoid of +hypocrisy, and untainted by snobbishness and pretension. He is friendly, +good-humoured, and hospitable, and, when not afflicted by hypochondria, +a cheerful companion. He is fond of discussion. An Englishman living +with a Russian family is struck, as a rule, by the long conversations +that go on, sometimes far on in the night, generally about politics or +abstract questions. There is no conventional limit of hours. If these +people want to go on playing cards all night, they will go on playing +cards all night; they will not stop because they think “it is really +time to go to bed.” + +In thinking over the characteristics of the educated middle class in +Russia and the educated middle class in England, the chief differences +are, of course, the same that differentiate the natural character of the +Russian and the Englishman. The Russian middle class is, if you take the +average, not only better educated, but more broad-minded, less +provincial, less pretentious, far less reserved and less self-satisfied, +and not at all hypocritical. It is also, I should say, less +self-disciplined; and it has often struck me that those members of the +_intelligentsia_ who are most violent and bitter in their denunciation +of the arbitrary behaviour and the irresponsible despotism of the +Government are, if one sees them on a committee, far more despotic and +arbitrary than the most despotic official. But that is perhaps the +logical law of human nature. + +The average Russian is certainly less self-satisfied than the average +Englishman; although he is sometimes self-satisfied in some respects and +in a quite different fashion. + +Self-praise is not a thing you often come across in the Russian +_intelligentsia_. On the contrary, you far oftener have its members +comparing themselves unfavourably with their neighbours. But this note +of self-depreciation sometimes exists side by side with one of pride and +vanity, which is sometimes pardonable and sometimes not. I came across +an instance of this lately in a large Russian newspaper—the _Russkoe +Slovo_.[12] + +A writer in an article on English life and Englishmen, in which he makes +a number of interesting appreciations and criticisms, compares the two +countries, and after making the debatable statement that, in his +opinion, Russia and England are the only two countries which are now +playing a significant part in the historical arena, says, “Yet what a +gulf there is between us. How far more intelligent, how far more +talented, how far broader-minded, how far more sincere are we!” It is +difficult for either a Russian or an Englishman to settle such a +question. They are neither of them the best judges; yet I should say, +personally, that this writer is probably right, if you take the average. +On the other hand, my impression is—and it may very likely be a false +one—that this broad-mindedness, talent, cleverness, and sincerity is +spread in a certain even proportion more or less equally and uniformly +over a larger social stratum in Russia, producing a certain high level +and standard of general intelligence; whereas in England, where no such +high standard exists, you may encounter gulfs and precipices of +complacent ignorance and narrow-minded stupidity; but, on the other +hand, you will meet with high peaks and jagged rocks of originality, +imagination, and sometimes genius. In England, while the general +standard of intelligence is immeasurably lower, the exceptions are more +remarkable, and not merely because they are exceptions, but in +themselves. Contemporary literature affords a good example of what I +mean. In Russia, the average reading public and the novel-reading public +is on a much higher level than the average English-reading and +novel-reading public, and the average literature food supplied to it is +higher also: the average Russian novel or story never descends to the +level of silliness which you find in the great majority of English +magazines. On the other hand, contemporary English literature contains +more names that are famous, and whose fame has crossed the frontiers of +their country, than contemporary Russian literature. For instance, if we +put Gorky with Kipling as belonging to a past generation, there is in +Russia no imaginative writer of the present generation who can be +compared with H. G. Wells; no realistic novel as fine as Arnold +Bennett’s _Old Wives’ Tale_; no writer as original as G. K. Chesterton. + +The Russian stage is on a far higher intellectual level than the English +stage, and the Russian theatre-going public is incomparably more +intelligent than the English theatre-going public; yet the Russians have +no dramatist whose plays (with the exception of one play by Gorky) are +acted all over Europe, such as those of Bernard Shaw. The ordinary +Russian intellectual may despise Bernard Shaw’s philosophy and drama—in +fact, the writer of the article I have just quoted cites as an instance +of the low level of the English stage, the fact that Bernard Shaw who, +he says, is “a back number” in Russia, is considered the first of +English dramatists. But is it certain the Russian has realized Shaw’s +humour to the full? This, moreover, does not prevent it being true that +Bernard Shaw’s plays are acted all over Europe, as well as in Russia; +that the French have called him the modern Molière; and that +contemporary Russia has produced no dramatist who can claim so large a +public, nor so wide an appreciation in Europe. + +The writer of the article I have quoted says that the Russians and the +English are alike in possessing two faces. In generalizing on the +characteristics of a people, and especially the Russian and the English +people, one must always bear in mind the element of paradox and +contradiction that exists. With regard to the English people, this +writer notes the fact of the contrasts you meet with in England, and the +dual nature of the English character; but whereas he notes the naïveté +of the English public, its boisterous mirth in contrast to the serious +element in many phases of English life, the imaginative quality of the +English seems to have escaped him. “I think we are an imaginative +people,” writes Mr. Wells about the English in India, “with an +imagination at once gigantic, heroic, and shy; and also we are a +strangely restrained and disciplined people who are yet neither subdued +nor subordinated.... These are flat contradictions to state, and yet how +else can one render the paradox of the English character and the +spectacle of a handful of mute, snobbish, not obviously clever, and +quite obviously ill-educated men, holding together kingdoms, tongues, +and races, three hundred millions of them, in a restless, fermenting +peace?” + +“Yes, it is true,” I would answer to this Russian journalist; “probably +true that you are far more intelligent, far more talented, more +broad-minded, and less hypocritical than we are.” And then I would ask +him to read some further words of Mr. Wells, which concern circles of +the official English in India, “conventional, carefully ‘turned out’ +people, living gawkily, thinking gawkily, talking nothing but sport and +gossip, relaxing at rare intervals into sentimentality and levity as +mean as a banjo tune.” Among such, he says, “a kind of despairful +disgust would engulf me. And then, in some man’s work, in some huge +irrigation scheme, some feat of strategic foresight, some simple, +penetrating realization of deep-lying things, I would find an effect, as +if out of a thickly-rusted sheath one had pulled a sword and found it a +flame.” + +The Russian writer has forgotten, or has never come across, the flame; +and that is not surprising, for the flame is not obvious to the casual +observer. But the Russian character has felt its heat, expressed as it +is in the phases and images of English writers of genius in the present +as well as in the past. The flame has left its marks on Russian +literature. + +I can imagine a Russian brooding or reasoning over Russia—say the Russia +of the remoter provinces—much in the same way as Wells reasons over the +British in India. I can imagine him saying: “Again and again I would +find myself in little circles of minor official Russians, slovenly, +superficial, despotic in their disregard of other people, lax, casual, +cynical, carefully ‘educated’ people, living noisily, thinking noisily, +talking nothing but cheap philosophy and gossip, relaxing at frequent +intervals into fits of drunkenness, gambling, and extravagance, as +sordid as the tune of a barrel organ, and a kind of despairful disgust +would engulf me. And then in some man’s speech, in some sudden flash of +white-hot sincerity, some stripping naked of the soul, some gesture of +human charity, some evidence of sympathy and understanding, some simple, +penetrating realization of divine things, I would find an effect, as if +in a heap of mouldering refuse, festering weeds, and broken bottles I +had stumbled across a tin box, and forcing it open, found it filled with +precious balm and myrrh—celestial in its fragrance.” And then perhaps he +might have added: “I think we are a great-hearted people with a humanity +at once charitable, broad, and deep; and yet we are a tough, obstinate, +arbitrary, and undisciplined people, who are as yet neither socially +independent nor politically free. These are flat contradictions.” I am +certain of one thing. Any generalizations on the characteristics of any +people must include flat contradictions, and especially any +generalizations on the Russians of any class; for the whole of Russian +history is based like a fairy tale on a huge paradox—namely, the +survival of the weakest, and the triumph of the fool of the family; the +strength of the fool being that he has something divine in his folly +which outwits the wisdom of the wise. + +In speaking of the prevailing dead level of a high standard in things +intellectual in Russia, I gave literature as an example. Perhaps I ought +to cite some of the sister arts as exceptions; but with the exception of +music, perhaps, the same rule applies here too. In the decorative arts +Bakst has attained a European reputation, and in stage design and stage +decoration Russia stands perhaps higher than any other European country +at present. But here it should be noted that one of the great pioneers +in advanced stage decoration in Russia was Gordon Craig, also a case in +point of the startling exception, startling in himself as well as an +exception to the encircling mediocrity. The Russian stage has felt not +only his influence, but his direct inspiration; and Aubrey Beardsley is +responsible in Russia for a whole chaos of decadent illustrators. Then +there is music, in which Russia is collectively and individually far +superior to England at present. These are questions which need separate +and more detailed treatment; but it is worth while mentioning here that +the greatest exception to the rule—if it is a rule—that in Russia you +will find a high standard and few towering exceptions, is to be found in +the operatic stage in the person of Shalyapin, who by common consent is, +besides being a magnificent singer, the greatest living actor and artist +on the operatic stage, and perhaps on any other stage either. On the +other hand, the first theatre in Moscow, the Art Theatre, furnishes an +example of the original rule—nowhere in Europe is the _ensemble_ so +perfect, the troupe so well disciplined, the production so harmonious; +yet the company contains no single actor or actress of genius. + +It is, of course, the _intelligentsia_ who suffered most in the past, +since the epoch of the great reforms of the ’sixties, from the want of +political liberty in Russia, and it is from the ranks of the +_intelligentsia_ that the revolutionary movement started. They had, +until the creation of the first Duma, no means at all of taking part in +public life unless they became officials and entered the Government +service. + +Those who did not play an active part in politics were not, it is true, +or were only indirectly, hampered by this state of things. They were +hampered, that is to say, by the censorship on certain books and on +certain ideas, by the caution of the press and the absence of public +debate, by the liability of falling under the suspicion of political +heterodoxy; whereas those who took a part in the revolutionary movement, +either directly or indirectly, were liable at any moment to suffer in +person for their opinions, and they did suffer. In their action as +active revolutionaries, in the manner in which they were ready to +undergo any sacrifices, however great and however tedious, the Russian +revolutionaries belong to the great and authentic martyrs of the world. +They sacrificed themselves without any fuss or ostentation. They were +willing to endure years and years of imprisonment or exile if they +thought that would benefit their cause. They went on hungerstrike when +the rules of their imprisonment were not being properly carried out, if +the quality of the food supplied to them was not up to the standard, or +if the prison regulations were not being properly fulfilled; but not +because they were put in prison. That they accepted as a rule of the +game. Nothing broke their indomitable and patient purpose. They were +ready to abandon everything which makes life worth living, and they +claimed neither the hero’s laurel wreath nor the martyr’s crown. They +were content to be anonymous; they gladly gave their bodies to be +crushed, if, they thought, they could thus make stepping-stones over +which future generations could walk. The Russian revolutionaries did not +go out of their way to seek to lose their lives; but they were ready, if +the occasion demanded it, to give their lives. But as far as their main +policy was concerned, they took the offensive against the Government; +and not being allowed to express their opinions in print or in public, +they expressed them with dynamite. + +In looking back at the whole movement, one is struck by the absence of +cant in the methods, the writings, and the behaviour of the _active_ +revolutionaries. They were as simple and as natural in their +assassinations and their martyrdom as they were in the rest of their +behaviour. They showed the same absence of hypocrisy. Some people call +this the Russian simplicity; others call it (Mr. Conrad, for instance) +Russian cynicism. It is, if you like, a kind of inverted cynicism; a +reckless way of looking facts in the face, and of stripping the soul of +all its decent trappings. And yet there is nothing Mephistophelian about +it—no mockery, no irony, but an inverted and inflexible logic which +leads people to disregard all barriers and to carry out in practice what +they preach in theory, though they should cause the pillars of the world +to fall crashing to the ground. + +I have been speaking, of course, about the active and militant members +among the revolutionaries, not of its platonic and passive sympathizers. +Amongst those you may find the political cant which is common to that +species of mankind, of all races and in all countries. + +But if you take the Russian middle class as a whole, absence of cant and +hypocrisy is certainly one of their chief characteristics. Uniformity of +education is certainly another. “Culture” is made into a fetish (and +this is true of all educated people in Russia). A certain stereotyped +form of culture, including a certain number of subjects, is looked upon +as being as indispensable as clothes. A man who is lacking in the +visible label and hall-mark of this so-called “culture” is looked upon +as if he were morally naked. + +The worst of it is, the possession of this culture does not necessarily +mean that its possessor is cultivated. It is often skin-deep and a +random assortment of superficial ideas, confined sometimes to the +knowledge of certain names and catchwords, and to a second-hand +acquaintance with certain books, theories, and currents of thought. + +The idea that this kind of “culture” is indispensable, and that a man +who does not possess it is uneducated, is undoubtedly a bureaucratic +idea, and the fruits of the long-standing existence of bureaucracy. Such +culture is a superstition, and has nothing necessarily to do with real +culture, which implies the assimilation and the thorough digestion of +any kind of knowledge. + +But, as I have said before, it is more especially to the half-educated +that this applies. The truly well-educated middle class have revealed +their culture to the world in the shape of the men of science, the +historians, the economists they have produced, and the books they have +written. + +But the Russian intellectual middle class is historically still young. +The greatest works of the Russian genius in the past were written before +it existed, when they were as nothing, and came from the nobility. The +future will show what the _intelligentsia_ in their turn will produce. +But such as it is at the present moment, it offers to the student of +Russia a field of surpassing interest; and the Englishman who goes to +Russia and lives among its members will come back, as a rule, with the +horizon of his mind widened, and in his heart a soft spot for the +Russian _intelligentsia_. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + THE RUSSIAN CHURCH. + + +The Russian Church calls itself the Holy Catholic Apostolic and Orthodox +Church. It is a national Church, and at the same time it is a branch of +a great Christian community which includes many nations and +peoples—namely, the Eastern Orthodox Church. + +The Russian Orthodox Church numbers at present over a hundred million +adherents, eighty millions of which are Russian subjects; of the +remainder about half are Slavs of old Turkey or of Austro-Hungary. +Greeks, Roumanians, Bulgarians, and Serbs all belong to the Orthodox +Church, and the Orthodox Church has missions in China, Japan, and North +America. + +Until the eleventh century the Eastern and the Western Churches formed +one Church. In the eleventh century a schism broke this unity and +divided a large fragment of the Eastern Church from the Western Church. + +Even after the schism had taken place, even as late as the beginning of +the twelfth century, intercommunion existed between the two Churches, +and Russian princes and princesses of Kiev intermarried with members of +the Latin Church. Efforts were made later to heal the schism, the most +important of which were the second Council of Lyons in 1274 and the +Council of Florence in 1439. At both these Councils union was proclaimed +and accepted by the Greeks, but neither of them had any permanent +result. The findings of the first of these two Councils soon became a +dead letter; those of the second were repudiated as soon as the Greek +delegates reached home, and the delegates were regarded as apostates. +Thus the schism has lasted practically since 1054. It was fraught with +deep moral and political consequences for the East, and especially for +Russia. The cause of it was not really doctrinal or dogmatical. Points +of dogma, and trivial points at that, were used as pretexts after the +schism had become a _fait accompli_. The true cause of the schism was +the immemorial rivalry between the Greeks and the Latins. + +The schism between the Eastern and Western Churches ranks, Sir Charles +Eliot says in his _Turkey and Europe_, with the foundation of +Constantinople and the coronation of Charlemagne, as one of the +turning-points in the relations of the East and the West. It was +disastrous to Russia and to the Byzantine Empire. To the latter, because +it crystallized and deepened an antagonism which prevented the East and +West from combining against the common enemy, and thus proved one of the +main causes of the fall of the Byzantine Empire and the establishment of +the Turk in Europe. To Russia, because, isolated as she was already by +her geographical situation, by this further isolation and rupture with +the West she fell an easy prey to the hordes of barbarian invaders from +Asia, and her national development was interrupted for centuries. As far +as dogma is concerned, the differences between the two Churches are to +this day trivial, and in earlier times they were slighter still. The +Orthodox Church has the same seven Sacraments as the Catholic +Church—namely, Baptism, Confirmation, Holy Eucharist, Penance, Unction, +Holy Order, and Matrimony. + +There is a certain difference in the administration of the Sacraments. +The Orthodox baptize with a threefold immersion. Confirmation is +administered immediately after baptism; and this was so in the West +during all the thirteenth century. Auricular confession is regarded as +indispensable by the Orthodox, but the Sacrament of Penance is less +precise and more flexible than in the West. The Orthodox Church holds +the dogma of Transubstantiation. That is to say, the Orthodox believe +that the Holy Eucharist is the true body and blood of Jesus Christ under +the outward appearances of bread and wine, and that transubstantiation +takes place—namely, the change of the inward imperceptible substance +into another substance; while all the species and accidents—that is to +say, those qualities which are outwardly perceived by the senses, such +as colour, taste or shape—remain unchanged. They reject all explanation +of a typical or subjective presence. Holy Communion is given in both +kinds to the laity; the Sacrament is administered by means of a golden +spoon, in which particles of the bread of the Eucharist float in the +consecrated wine. Infants receive Holy Communion after baptism. The +Sacrament of Extreme Unction, called by the Russians _Soborovanie_ (that +is to say, Unction without the extreme), is administered by several +priests, and is not reserved for those _in extremis_; it is regarded +less as a preparation for death than as a means of healing the sick. + +With regard to Holy Order, no priest in Russia is allowed to marry after +he is ordained. He is married before he is ordained, and marriage has +become a necessary preliminary to Order. + +The Orthodox Church proclaims the indissolubility of marriage, but in +practice admits that the infidelity of one of the parties authorizes +separation. Violation of the conjugal oath is regarded as annulling the +sacrament, and only the injured party is allowed to remarry. + +The Orthodox have the same fundamental cycle of feasts as the Catholics. +The Holy Liturgy is said according to two rites—those of St. John +Chrysostom and of St. Basil.[13] + +The Orthodox observe four great fasts: Advent, forty days from November +15 until Christmas Eve; Lent, beginning on the Monday after the sixth +Sunday before Easter; thirdly, a period from the first Sunday after +Pentecost until June 28; fourthly, the fast of the Mother of God from +August 1 to August 15. According to the Orthodox fast, only one meal is +allowed a day, and abstinence not only from meat, but from fish, butter, +milk, cheese, eggs, and oil is required. The fasts are carried out by +the poor with great strictness, and even among the wealthier classes +there is more fasting and abstinence during Lent than in the West. +Statues of our Lord or of saints are forbidden, but pictures and any +images on a flat surface are allowed. + +To sum up, the foundations of the Orthodox faith are: Belief in one God +in three Persons, in the Incarnation of God the Son, the Redemption of +Mankind by the sacrifice of His Life, the Church founded by Him with her +Sacraments, the Resurrection of the Body, the Life Everlasting. They +have a hierarchy; they accept the Deutero-canonical books of Scripture +as equal to the others; they believe in and use seven sacraments; they +honour, invoke, and pray to saints; they have a cult of holy pictures +and relics; they look with infinite reverence to the Mother of God. + +In all these main points, which I have here enumerated, there is no +difference between the Orthodox Church of the East and the Catholic +Church of the West. The two Churches originally separated on minor +questions of discipline; they are at present separated by certain +questions of dogma as well. But the great difference between the two +Churches is the difference of constitution, which proceeds from the very +fact of the separation. The first difference in dogma between the two +Churches is the procession of the Holy Ghost. The Eastern Church refuses +to add the word _filioque_ to the Nicean Creed. But even here, although +the Orthodox do not admit that the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Son as +well as from the Father, they have never explicitly stated a contrary +belief; and although they deny that the twofold procession can be +inserted in the Creed, they grant it allows of an orthodox +interpretation. This is a purely theological dispute, and to this day it +remains the chief point of difference between the two Churches. The two +Churches differ in their conception of purgatory; the Orthodox pray for +the dead, and believe in a middle state, where the dead sleep and wait +passively; but they do not define the matter any further, and they +reject all idea of the purification by spiritual fire. They deny that +souls which have departed this life can expiate their faults, or at +least the only expiation they admit are the prayers of the faithful and +the Holy Mysteries. + +The Orthodox deny the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. The Catholic +dogma of the Immaculate Conception is that all mankind are from their +conception tainted with Original Sin, except the Blessed Virgin, who by +a special privilege and grace of God was preserved immaculate—that is, +free from the stain of Original Sin from the first moment of her +conception. + +I repeat this definition because it is not generally known to Protestant +Englishmen, who, as a rule, confuse the Immaculate Conception with the +Incarnation of our Lord, and I know of cases where they obstinately +maintain this belief in the face of evidence. + +The doctrine, although not accepted in theory by the Eastern Church, is +practically a part of their belief—that is to say, they never cease to +call the Blessed Virgin All Immaculate, or Very Immaculate. + +Finally, the Orthodox Church denies the dogma of Papal Infallibility. +This is in reality the only difference between the two Churches which +has any real importance, either religious or political, because it +includes any other possible difference, and from it proceeds the +difference in constitution and in political situation between the two +Churches. + +For Catholics the door on dogmatic definition has been left open +indefinitely; for while holding, _de fide_, that the revelation made to +the apostles was final and complete, new _definition_ of the revelation, +as is seen in the creeds, as heresies arise, or as fuller expansion of +doctrine, is admitted indefinitely. + +On the other hand, the Orthodox believe that the time for definition has +been closed, once and for all, and for ever. They believe that nothing +can be added to the decisions of the first Seven Great Councils, which +took place before the schism between the two Churches, and which +contained, according to them, the infallible, final, complete, and +unalterable definition of the Church and the dogmas of the faith. The +Orthodox regard the first Seven Councils to have been infallible in the +definition of dogma, exactly in the same way as Catholics consider the +Pope to be infallible in his capacity of supreme Pastor of the Church, +when speaking _ex cathedrâ_ he defines revealed truth and teaches points +of faith or of morals. The Orthodox deny that the Pope has authority +over the whole Church. The Russian and the Greek catechisms agree that +the Church has no other head than Jesus Christ, our Lord—so far this +agrees with the Catholic catechism—and that He is represented by no +vicar on earth. The Orthodox regard the Pope as the Patriarch of the +West, and legitimate first Patriarch (_primus inter pares_), but they +reject his universal claim. + +And as the first Seven Councils left some matters undefined and the +Fathers of the Church did not foresee all possible contingencies, such +matters remain undefined in the Orthodox Church. + +Since the Orthodox Church possesses neither a spiritual sovereign nor an +international capital, such as Rome, it naturally tends to +decentralization, and hence the growth of national and independent +Churches, which the Greeks call autocephalous. + +The Russian Church was the first to establish its independence, and the +example of Russia was followed by Greece, Servia, and Roumania. + +In 1872 Bulgaria, in obedience to its national interests, seceded from +the jurisdiction of the Orthodox Patriarch of Constantinople, in order +to be no longer classed with the Greeks; for, according to the Turkish +system, all those who submitted to the jurisdiction of Constantinople +were officially classed as “Greeks.” + +Thus the Bulgarians formed an autonomous Church in the domains of the +Ottoman Empire, alongside of the Greek Church, before Bulgaria +constituted a State, and for so doing they incurred the anathema of the +Orthodox Patriarchate of Constantinople, and were condemned as +heretical, since the patriarchate maintained that the delimitation of +ecclesiastical jurisdiction should correspond to political delimitation, +and that in the same political state there could only be one Church. +Bulgaria’s action, therefore, was contrary to church canon—that is, +heretical. Nevertheless its independence was recognized by the Sultan, +and the Bulgarian Church was established under an Exarch of its own, +while Russia, without making any definite pronouncement, nevertheless +never accepted the anathema of Constantinople. + +A few years later Bulgaria became an independent principality, and had +the jurisdiction of the Bulgarian Exarchate been limited to the +principality of Bulgaria, the Œcumenical Patriarchate would have been +logically bound to recognize it; but according to the firmans of the +Sultan, the jurisdiction of the Bulgarian Exarchate extended beyond the +frontiers of Bulgaria, and included the dioceses of Thrace and +Macedonia, which nominally belonged to the Sultan and were a bone of +contention between the Greek and the Slav influence. Thus the +Greco-Bulgarian schism continued. This question has now once again +sprung into importance. The dioceses of Macedonia and some of those in +Thrace, which were under the religious jurisdiction of Bulgaria, and +under the political dominion of the Porte, are now, as the result of the +latest wars in the Balkans, and of the Treaty of Bucharest, partly in +the hands of the Servians, and partly in the hands of the Greeks. +Hitherto the Bulgarian Exarchate was the nucleus around which all the +elements of Bulgarian nationality in Macedonia were gathered; but now, +owing to the second Balkan War, the Bulgarians in Macedonia come under +the jurisdiction of the Metropolitan of Servia, and are in fear, +consequently, of losing their nationality, since the Bulgars fear that +neither their churches nor their national schools will succeed in +maintaining their existence in the new Greek and Servian territory. The +consequence was, that some of the Bulgars in those parts of Macedonia +talked of secession from the Orthodox Church, and submission to the +Church of Rome, or of embracing Protestantism, as the best means of +preserving their nationality.[14] + +In spite of these differences, the Russian Church and the independent +Churches of the East form in reality one, for if they lack unity of +organization, they possess unity of creed, and the unity of creed is +ensured by its immutabilty, which renders unnecessary all international +authority or periodical congresses. Since matters of dogma have been +discussed once and for all, or have been left vague and undefined +indefinitely, there is nothing for such an authority to define, and +nothing for such a congress to discuss. And the panegyrists of the +Orthodox Church are proud of the lack of central authority and the +organization of the Churches according to States, which they consider +combine unity of creed with ecclesiastical independence, according to +Homayakov’s formula, “Unity of freedom in love.” + +But if the nationalization of the Oriental Churches is a source of +strength, it is at the same time a source of weakness, for the result of +the national constitution of the Orthodox Churches, and of their having +no spiritual head, has been that many of its branches have been +secularized, and of this the Russian Church is a signal example. + +The Orthodox Churches, and especially the Russian Church, were thrown +open to the civil power, the power of the State, and became subordinate +to it. + +The Russian Church became subject to the State. It is often said +that such a circumstance is a guarantee of political liberty and of +liberty of thought; but neither the history of Russia nor that of +the Greek empire furnishes us with examples to the point. Both in +the history of Russia and of Byzantium we are confronted with two +phenomena—intellectual stagnation and political despotism—to which +the Church seems to have contributed, since being subject to the +State she had no means of resisting civil authority, and the power +of the State was left without a single check. The civil authority +had the support of ecclesiastic authority, and the temporal +authority was backed up by the spiritual power; no obstacle was +raised in the path of autocracy. + +The alliance of Church and State kept down the intellectual growth of +the nation within, and prevented the invasion of new ideas from without. +The result of the alliance was stagnation and isolation. And in the East +there was no common clerical language, as Latin in the West, to help +civilization, for the Greek Church did not impose its language on its +sister Churches, but left to each the use of its own tongue. + +This peculiar constitution of the Russian Church, as Sir Charles Eliot +puts it, “has produced in Russia an almost Mohammedan confusion of +Church and State, or at least of religion and politics.” + +But this state of things did not come about all at once. + +Christianity reached Russia through Byzantium at a time (988 A.D.) when +the Eastern Church was still in communion with Rome, after a temporary +schism between the East and West; a Russian Metropolitan held the see of +Kiev, and was appointed by the Patriarch of Constantinople. During this +period the Russian Church was a province of the Byzantine Patriarchate. + +Then came the Tartar invasion and the migration of the Russian princes +to the basin of the Volga, and finally to Moscow. Moscow had a +Metropolitan who was still suffragan of the Greek patriarch, but elected +by his clergy and chosen by his sovereign. This was the second phase of +the Russian Church during which it gradually acquired its independence. +Moscow became a kingdom, and at the death of Ivan the Terrible, in 1589, +Russia demanded a Patriarch. In 1589 Job, the Metropolitan of Moscow, +was consecrated Patriarch. This was brought about by Boris Godunov, in +the reign of Feodor, the successor of Ivan the Terrible (1589). + +Thus began the third phase of the history of the Russian Church—the +phase of its independence. The Russian Church was henceforward +independent of Constantinople. + +There were ten Patriarchs of Moscow in succession. At first they played +a powerful and important part in Russian history, and helped to save +Russia from foreign dominion. + +The culminating point in the history of the independent Church was +reached when in the reign of Alexis, in 1642, Nikon became Patriarch. + +The Patriarchate of Nikon had two great and far-reaching +results—firstly, a conflict with the civil authority which ended in his +defeat and deposition from the patriarchal throne, and in a consequent +loss of prestige to the patriarchate; and secondly, a schism which tore +the Russian Church in two, and which was the result of a wise reform—the +revision of the text of liturgical books, into whose text, owing to +continuous copying and recopying, inaccuracies had crept. + +Nikon spoke with great energy against the supremacy of the State over +the Church. Six years after his consecration, he was brought before a +Council, condemned and deposed, thanks to the intrigues of the Boyars. +His revision of the texts was accepted by the Council, but not by a +great part of the Russian people, who clung obstinately to the old +unrevised books and called themselves “Old Believers.” Hence arose the +great schism of the Russian Church. The “Old Believers,” were persecuted +and became fanatical. Besides the revision of the texts, Nikon changed +one or two trifling details of ritual in the liturgy. This was enough to +convulse Russia. Later on, all enemies of foreign innovations flocked to +the camp of the “Old Believers,” endured any persecution, however +severe; and the net result of this, at the present moment, is that there +are 25,000,000 Russians who live in schism from the Russian Church. + +The fall of Nikon established once and for all the authority of the +State over that of the Church, and the great schism weakened the +authority of the Church, owing to the secession from it of a great part +of the nation. The patriarchate was shaken and weakened; but weak as it +was, it appeared too strong to suit the taste of Peter the Great, who +abolished it in 1721. + +In its place he established the Holy Directing Synod. Thus began the +fourth phase of the Russian Church, which has lasted until to-day. + +There is nothing necessarily anti-liberal in the existence of a synod, +and it is not peculiar to the Russian Church. Greece, Roumania, and +Servia administer their Churches by means of a synod. Its tendencies +depend necessarily on the manner of its election, the nature of its +guarantees, the laws and customs of the country in which it exists. + +The Holy Synod consists at the present day of executive members and +assistants, of permanent and temporary members. Among the permanent +members are the Metropolitans of Kiev, Moscow, and St. Petersburg, and +the Exarch of Georgia. The temporary members consist of four or five +archbishops, bishops or archimandrites, the emperor’s chaplain, and the +head chaplain of the forces. All the members are appointed by the +Emperor, and in addition to these ecclesiastics, the Emperor appoints a +delegate who is called the Procurator-General. The procurator is a +layman, and represents the civil authority. His duty is to see that +ecclesiastical affairs are carried out in accordance with the imperial +ukases. No act of the synod is valid unless he confirms it. He has the +right of veto, should its decisions be contrary to the law. Practically, +therefore, but not theoretically, he controls the synod; and in his turn +he carries out the will and obeys the orders of the Emperor. + +It would be a great mistake, however, whatever may be the result of this +institution in practice, to call the Emperor of Russia the head of the +Russian Church. He makes no such claim, and Russian orthodoxy recognizes +only one Head of the Church, our Lord, and only one infallible authority +speaking in His name, the Seven First Œcumenical Councils. The Emperor +may be the autocratic master of the Church; he is not the head of it. +His authority is from the outside only. In questions of dogma he has no +authority at all. He is regarded as the temporal defender and guardian +of the Church; his authority, and consequently the authority of the +State, concerns the administration of the Church solely, and even here +his power is limited by tradition, canon law, and the œcumenical +character of the Church. + +Dogma is equally outside the domain of the Holy Synod, and even +disciplinary measures come before the Holy Synod as before a commission +of inquiry, the final decision remaining with the Church. + +Such is the teaching of the Russian Church with regard to relations of +Church and State, and the position of the Emperor with regard to the +Church. + +Yet in spite of this, there is no Church where the influence and the +authority of the State is so deeply felt as in the Russian Church; for +in practice the Church is governed through the Holy Synod, and not +through the bishops, for the synod overrules the bishops, and in +practice, and in spite of the theory, the procurator overrules the +synod, and the procurator is the civil authority in the flesh. The +Russian Church is consequently, in practice, a State Church, and many of +its earnest members have never ceased to deplore the fact. + +Russian books dealing with theological questions in the past are full of +this bitter and oft-reiterated complaint; but I will quote what an +apologist of the Russian Church wrote as short time ago as November +1912, showing that the complaint of the past is if anything more vital +now than ever. In an article on the Russian public and religion, S. +Bulgakov says that a faithful and powerful ally of the atheism of the +_intelligentsia_ is without doubt the secular character of the Church, +its ruinous dependence on the State under the synod _régime_, and owing +to the absence of self-government. He also says that one of the reasons +of the alienation from the Church, not only of the _intelligentsia_ but +of the people, is the bureaucratic caste of the Church administration, +the access of officialdom and arbitrary power to the fields of freedom +and love. “It is not,” he writes, “a question of any corruption or +distortion of dogma; on the contrary, the Russian Church adheres with +devotion to the dogmas of the Universal Church. + +“The main lever by which the State directs the Church at present is the +episcopacy, which, contrary to canon, is appointed by, and consequently +to a certain extent picked out by, secular authority. The Holy Synod is +likewise chosen from these bishops, and by secular authority also.... +The bishops, who should remain all their life in their dioceses, have +been commuted into ecclesiastical governors, changing dioceses more +quickly than the governors change provinces.... Theoretically, the +Orthodox Church should be self-governing from top to bottom, but the +painful reality reveals on the contrary so great a paralysis in the +public life of the Church, as to give the outside observer the +impression that nothing is here but ecclesiastical governors, under the +direction of the procurator of the Holy Synod and the secular authority +that is behind him, with a clergy stripped of all rights.” + +Such a statement sums up what has been constantly said in the past, and +what is being said with increasing vehemence in the present by earnest +members of the Russian Church, who recognize with sorrow the almost +total alienation of the Church from the educated classes, and look +forward with apprehension to the day when the indifference of the +educated and the street-corner atheism of the half-educated shall spread +to the peasantry. But, on the other hand, the very fact that such +statements are made shows that side by side with the growth of +rationalism there is a movement in the opposite direction as well. + +Many years ago, in the days of the fathers and grandfathers of the +present generation, educated Russia was divided into two camps—the +Slavophils and the Westernisers. The leaders of the Westernism were +Bielinsky and Herzen; those of the Slavophils, Homyakov, a poet and the +father of the Ex-President of the Duma; and others. + +The Westernisers saw in rationalism and atheism the last word of Western +culture, and made a religion out of socialistic Utopias, and at the same +time took part with a fervent enthusiasm in the struggle for political +freedom. Orthodoxy and the Church were to them an expression of +despotism and reaction. + +The Slavophils, who were, in their most flourishing epoch, by no means +political reactionaries, and being more cultured than their opponents, +were saturated with the philosophy, art, and religion of the West, +nevertheless revered the religious character of the sovereign’s +authority, based Utopias on it likewise, and, in contradistinction to +the cosmopolitan ideal of the Westernisers, for whom nationality did not +exist except ethnographically, made a cult of nationality which for them +was inseparable from religion and orthodoxy. There was the same +difference between their ideals as there is now between those of Mr. +Chesterton and Mr. Blatchford; only whereas in England Mr. Chesterton +has but few followers, the Slavophils were expressing the inarticulate +aspirations of the great mass of the Russian people. + +Slavophilism was represented by many men of genius, such as Dostoievsky +the novelist and Vladimir Soloviev the philosopher. + +Its tradition has not died out, and although the majority of the +_intelligentsia_ may be adherents of the opposite school, yet the +descendants of the Slavophils have many notable representatives among +the minority (whose names I have already cited) in philosophy, art, and +literature; and a universal characteristic of them is their interest in +religion. + +The ordinary Russian street-corner atheist sees in the Church nothing +but an instrument of clerical obscurantism and political reaction. He +looks at the matter from the outside, and, from his point of view, the +opinion is excusable. + +But the descendants of Slavophilism look at the Church from the inside. +They know from experience the blessing of the Sacraments, the majesty of +an immemorial tradition, the glory of a mystical and liturgical Church +whose ritual and liturgy is one of inexpressible richness, depth, and +beauty. Even to the most indifferent agnostic the Russian Church affords +a spectacle of surpassing æsthetic interest, and if he is musical an +incomparable source of wonder and delight in the quality of its sacred +song. + +As far as ritual and ceremony is concerned, the practice and custom of +the first centuries of Christianity, which were in many cases simplified +by Rome, before they were curtailed or rejected by the Reformation, have +been preserved intact in the East. Nothing is more false than the idea +which often prevails in some quarters that the rites of the early Church +were simple, and grew more and more complicated towards the Middle Ages. +The rites of the Church in the fourth and fifth centuries were long and +complicated, and were gradually simplified by the Latins. The proof is +the ceremonial of the Eastern Churches, which has remained exactly where +it was in the fourth and fifth centuries. Mass, for instance, in the +Coptic Church, lasts five hours or longer. Low Mass, which was one of +the simplifications introduced by Rome, is unknown in the Greek and +Russian Churches. Every Mass is a high Mass, intoned and accompanied by +plain song, in the presence of the faithful, and generally only on +Sundays and holy days. The same liturgy and rite is observed by the +Uniate Catholics, whether Greeks, Ruthenians, Poles, etc. The liturgy is +sumptuous, and at the same time austere. There is only one altar, which +is separated from the congregation by a large screen called the +_iconastasis_—that is to say, the screen which bears the holy +images—which has doors which are opened and shut during Mass, and beyond +which the priest alone, and the Emperor when he receives Communion on +the day of his coronation, has the right to penetrate. Behind these +doors, which are shut before the consecration, the most solemn part of +the Mass is consummated. No organ or any other instruments are allowed +in the Eastern Churches, and, as in the Sistine Chapel when the Pope +says Mass, only the human voice is heard. + +As far as liturgical song is concerned, the Russians have far surpassed +the Greeks, from whom they received it. The liturgical music consists of +plain song, and of original chants called _raspievi_, which date from +the Middle Ages. The singing of the Church choirs in Russia is without +comparison, the finest in the world. The bass voices reach to notes and +attain effects resembling the 36-foot bourdon stops of a huge organ, and +these, blent with the clear and bold treble voices of the boys, sing + + “An undisturbed song of pure concent.” + +The best Russian choirs sing together like one voice. They attain to +tremendous crescendoes, to a huge volume of thunderous sound, and to a +celestial softness and delicacy of diminishing tone. There is no finer +chorus singing. The Russians are extremely particular and appreciative +of religious music. Every kind of institution, including banks, has its +private choir; and I know of a case where a banker chose his clerks +simply and solely according to the quality of their voices, so as to +form a choir who could sing in church. + +The finest choirs in Russia are those of the Emperor, St. Isaak’s +Cathedral in St. Petersburg, of the Cathedral of the Assumption, and the +Church of St. Saviour, and the Tchudov Monastery at Moscow; and the +finest religious ceremonies are those which take place at Moscow during +Holy Week and on the eve of Easter. + +Religious music in Russia has its roots in the heart of the people. And +whatever in the future may be the influence of rationalistic tendencies +and materialistic theories, of superficial indifferentism or +ill-digested science, the Russian people at the present moment love +their liturgy and the ceremony, ritual, and music of their worship. The +Church still plays an overwhelming part in national life. And for the +peasant, the Church is not only a place of mystery, sweetness, and +consolation, but his window opens on to all that concerns the spirit—it +is his opera, his theatre, his concert, his picture gallery, his +library. + +The Russian people still flock to the shrines of the Saints, and walk +hundreds of miles on foot to visit holy places. A peasant woman once +asked me to lend her two roubles, as she was going on a journey. I asked +her where she was going to, and she said, “Jerusalem.” + +A pilgrim in a Russian crowd is as constant a factor as a soldier, a +student, or the member of any other profession. The churches are still +crowded in Russia, and they have that attribute without which a Church +is not a Church—they smell of the poor. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + EDUCATION. + + +Education, like everything else in Russia, has, in the course of its +existence, experienced many sharp ups and downs, which were the outcome +in the past of the vicissitudes of history, and, in less remote times, +of changes in the policy of successive governments. + +The birthplace of education in Russia was the Church. Until the Tartar +invasion, education was entirely in the hands of the clergy; and like +everything else in Russia, it necessarily suffered an eclipse during the +epoch of the Tartar domination. Peter the Great created secular schools, +sowed the seed of technical education, which was later to bear such +abundant fruit, and planned an Academy of Sciences which was executed by +his widow Catherine. + +The University of Moscow was founded in 1755, in the reign of the +Empress Elisabeth. Catherine II. encouraged education in many ways; but +it was not until the reign of Alexander I. that an attempt was made to +organize a national system of education. From that time until the +present day, education has experienced spurts of progress and relapses +into stagnation, according as the political pendulum swung from reform +to reaction. From 1812 to 1855 reaction was predominant. In 1855 +education, as everything else, revived under the influence of the great +reforms. After the assassination of the Emperor Alexander II., in 1881, +another period of reaction set in, which lasted more or less until the +Russo-Japanese War; then came the revolutionary movement which broke +down certain barriers, and was succeeded, as far as education is +concerned, by a Government policy whose constant tendency has been +towards reaction, and here as elsewhere, and in other matters, to take +back or to curtail and limit with one hand what it had given with the +other. But although the Government has constantly interfered with and +hampered the organization of education, it has not only been powerless +to withstand the great movement towards the extension and progress of +education which is at this moment taking place in Russia, but it has in +some cases taken the initiative in educational reform, so that if it +curtails with one hand it has none the less given with the other; and +the gift is more important than the limitations, because, once made, it +opened windows that could never be shut again in spite of all possible +curtailments. In Russia at the present moment there is a great and ever +increasing demand for primary, secondary, technical, and higher +education. + +Primary education, which in Russia is always gratuitous, is in the hands +either of— + + (_a_) The Zemstvos, in the country. + + The Municipalities, in the towns. + + (_b_) The Church. + + (_c_) The Minister of Education, to a small extent in that part of + Russia where Zemstvos exist, and a large extent in the + ukraines where there are no Zemstvos. + +The course of primary education is planned on a basis of from three to +six years. In all primary schools, reading, writing, and arithmetic, and +religion are taught. + +The tendency towards a longer and slower course, because a three years’ +course, while it teaches a boy to read once and for all, has been found +not to leave a lasting impression on him as far as writing is concerned. + +The boy after a three years’ course will never forget how to read, but +he will entirely forget how to write. + +The primary schools are full to overflowing, and have to turn back +pupils all over the country. + +As far as the teachers are concerned, 60 per cent. of them are women, 40 +per cent. are men. Only a small proportion are specially trained +teachers; the rest, especially among the women, have merely finished +their course at a Government Gymnasium. + +Of the three classes of primary schools, the best are those which are in +the hands of the Zemstvo; then next in order of merit come those which +are in the hands of the Minister of Education; and next the Church +parish schools,[15] which are gradually being suspended and ousted by +the others. + +All these schools were till quite lately (three or four years ago) +supported either by the respective authorities in whose control they +are, or by private persons. As the sums of money rendered available by +such a system were totally insufficient to defray the necessary +expenses, the consequence was that the general progress was slow. A +radical change in this situation was made by an Education Bill, which +was introduced into the Duma by the Government, and passed by the Duma a +few years ago. This most important measure provided that the various +authorities indicated above, which control the schools, should receive +yearly from the Government a sum of about £40 in order to pay for the +schooling of fifty children—that is to say, for the salary of one +teacher for every fifty children, on the condition that the Zemstvo, or +the other controlling authorities, as the case might be, should +undertake to build, in a period of ten years, a number of schools +sufficient to meet the needs of the whole population of their respective +districts. The result of this Bill will be that in about five to six +years’ time Russia will have enough schools for the whole of its +population, and will be able to contemplate the practical realization of +compulsory education. + +As it is now, in European Russia the percentage of people who can read +or write is only 22·9 in Siberia, and in the Caucasus it is less (12·3 +and 12·4); but it is higher in Poland (30·5), in the Baltic provinces +(71–80), and in certain governments, such as Moscow (40) and St. +Petersburg (43–53).[16] + +Before considering the question of secondary education in Russia, it +must be pointed out that all secondary and higher education in Russia is +of two kinds—namely, technical and general. + +General secondary education is either directly in the hands of the +Minister of Education, or in the hands of private persons under the +close supervision of the Minister of Education. There are, as in +Germany, two classes of general secondary education—classical, which is +taught in the gymnasia, and non-classical, which is taught in the Real +Schools; the gymnasia are attended by boys and girls, but the schools +are as a rule not mixed. The Gymnasium’s course of instruction lasts +eight years; that of the Real Schools, seven. + +The subjects taught in the gymnasia are as follows: Religion, Latin, +Greek, Russian, mathematics (as far as logarithms and the binomial +theorem, and including trigonometry), history, natural sciences, French +or German, English (optional). + +The course of the Real Schools is the same, except that it excludes +Latin and Greek, attaches much more importance to mathematics and +natural science, and has two obligatory foreign languages (French and +German), and one optional foreign language. + +The course for girls is the same in kind, but less in degree. The +tendency for girls is to go to the Real Schools in preference to the +gymnasia; and besides the gymnasia and the Real Schools, there are also +for girls a certain number of institutes and gymnasia founded by the +Empress Marie, open only to the daughters of the nobility, and to +foundlings and orphans. These gymnasia are more or less the same as the +ordinary Government gymnasia; the institutes are closed pensions, +organized more or less on the lines of a French convent; the pupils are +boarders, and the teaching of languages in these institutes is +especially good. + +In the ordinary gymnasia the average number of pupils is 372, and the +average number of pupils in each class is 35. These schools are open to +people of every class; but this does not exclude the possibility of +nobles or other persons founding special private schools for members of +their particular class. + +In the gymnasia and Real Schools the pupils are mostly children of town +dwellers and guild artisans; the pupils live at home, and go to the +school only during school hours. + +The school terms last from September 1 until Christmas, and from +Christmas until June 1, leaving a holiday of three months in the summer. + +The hours of work in school are from 9 a.m. until noon, and then, after +an hour’s interval for lunch, from 1 p.m. to 3 p.m., making five hours a +day. Preparation is done at home. There are no half-holidays. On the +other hand, there are many whole holidays, since every saint’s day in +Russia is a whole holiday, and besides the saints’ days there are other +holidays as well. One point of interest, in comparing Russian secondary +schools with English secondary schools, is that in Russian schools there +is no such thing as corporal punishment, and if a Russian schoolboy were +chastised or beaten by a teacher he would be almost ready to commit +suicide from shame. In the Russian gymnasia and High Schools, the level +and quality of the teaching are high. A university degree is required +from all teachers, except in some rare cases in the lower classes of +girls’ gymnasia. On paper, and theoretically, nothing could appear +better than the system of Russian secondary education. It seems to have +all the advantages of the German system, and at the same time to be a +little less strenuous. + +Nevertheless, almost any Russian, if you ask him what is the chief +characteristic of Russian secondary education at present, will answer +that the education received is bad and unsatisfactory. + +And if you ask whether this is the result of an incomplete or faulty +programme of instruction, or of incompetent and inadequate teaching, he +will say, No; the scheme of instruction is sufficiently extensive and +difficult, the teachers are well trained, competent and conscientious; +it is in spite of this, they tell you, that the education which is the +fruit of this laborious course is unsatisfactory, and the culture +obtained comparatively low. If you press for the reason, they will point +to the influence of the Government over the schools. The Government do +not exercise an open and direct pressure on the schools, but they never +cease from interfering indirectly with them. They exercise a kind of +censorship over education; the teachers are being constantly checked; +certain subjects and certain topics are tabooed; and the nature of the +censorship varies with the changing ministers. + +Thus it is that education tends to be intensive in one direction and +incomplete in another; and the net result is that the culture obtained +is to a certain extent superficial, and that the product of the Russian +secondary schools is a youth who is intellectually half-baked. + +One of the chief results of the attitude of the administration towards +the schools is that the pupils look upon their course of education +solely as a means of getting a diploma; they cease to be interested in +the education itself which is provided for them, and they throw +themselves with exaggerated vehemence into any other political or +philosophical channel outside it—into socialism, materialism, +theoretical and practical anarchy. + +This is what Russians tell you, and it is no doubt true from their point +of view; nevertheless, if you compare the average level of secondary +education in Russia with that which exists in England, you will notice +at once that the average Russian, as I have said earlier in this book, +is infinitely better instructed. I use the word “instructed” purposely; +because if you take education in the larger sense, it is often the case +that the more ignorant Englishman has on the whole a better balanced +education than the over-instructed Russian. That is to say, the +intellectually immature product of the English schools will often be +saner and nearer to reality and practical life, and fitter to deal with +the emergencies of life, than the intellectually overripe Russian, who +is immature in his very overripeness; and who, by nature being +intellectually plastic, agile, and assimilative, receives an education +of a kind that starves him where he needs feeding, and overfeeds him +where he needs a low diet, and leads him to seek for himself just that +kind of intellectual food and drink which is likely to inebriate him, +and to ruin his intellectual digestion. With regard to the course of +education itself, he becomes simply and solely a diploma-hunter. + +These remarks do not apply to technical secondary education. There are +in Russia technical secondary schools of agriculture, engineering, +mining, forestry, and railways (all under the management of the +different ministries). The general course of education received here is +the same in character as that given in the gymnasia and the Real +Schools; but it is combined with a special course, and the technical +schools produce a type of youth who is not only more practical and +nearer to reality, but who is more really cultivated in spite of the +fact that the pupils of the gymnasia have the advantage of the more +general course of education. + +There are also cadet schools and special schools for officers under the +Ministry of War, which are sufficiently good; and commercial schools +(similar to the Real Schools), under the direction of the Minister of +Commerce. + +The number of schools in Russia is still not really sufficient for the +demand; and since the regulations binding on the institution of schools +by private persons have become less stringent, the increase in the +number of such privately organized schools has been enormous, and this +testifies to the greatness of the general demand for education. + +Higher education in Russia is also of two kinds, technical and general. + +General higher education is supplied by the universities. There are +universities at Moscow, St. Petersburg, Kiev, Kharkov, Yurieff, Warsaw, +Kazan, Odessa, Tomsk, and Saratov. + +The largest university is that of Moscow, where there are nearly ten +thousand students; and that of St. Petersburg, where there are eight +thousand. Admission to the university takes place once a year, and +admittance is given to all students who have passed what the Germans +call their _Abiturienten Examen_, at their secondary school—that is to +say, their leaving-certificate examination. Besides the universities, +there are higher technical schools, which we will come to presently. + +The system of university teaching is the same as that which exists in +the rest of Europe and in Scotland; the faculties include jurisprudence, +physics and mathematics, medicine, historical philology, Oriental +languages, and divinity. + +But the part played by the universities in Russian life and the special +character of Russian university education are unique.[17] + +Every Englishman who is at all interested in Russia will be probably +aware of the immense influence that the universities have had on the +current of modern history in Russia. + +The young, the adolescent in all countries, have often played a part in +politics, whenever the politics of a country have been in a state of +ferment. Sometimes the expression of their zeal takes the form of +patriotism, as in the War of Liberation in Germany; sometimes, if the +form of the Government is reactionary, it leads them to go and fight at +the barricades. + +In Russia the students have always taken an interest in political +matters; but at the beginning of the century the universities were small +and aristocratic. Nevertheless, in 1825, secret societies existed all +over Russia, largely recruited from the ranks of the young, and these +finally organized an insurrection in St. Petersburg, which has become +famous in Russian history as the Decembrist Rising; and which stands in +contrast with all later insurrectionary risings in Russia, in that it +was exclusively the work of the nobility and the gentry, and was +confined to that class. The society which brought about this +insurrection modelled itself on the German association of students, the +_Tugendbund_; and although its practical results were nil, it left a +tradition which the students on the one hand, and the Government on the +other hand (although unconsciously), never permitted to die out. + +All through the ’forties and the ’fifties, as secondary education first +became a fact and subsequently went on increasing, the universities grew +not only large, but democratic, and formed a democratic nucleus; and it +was here that the rationalistic movement which started in Western Europe +found the most grateful soil and the quickest response. Liberal ideas +had always flourished among the students, and this blend of liberal and +rationalistic ideas, as soon as it began to spread and to increase, met +with a counter-movement of repression from all successive governments. +And it is the glory of the Russian universities that they never ceased +to keep the flag of their ideal, their demand for political freedom, +flying, and were always the soul of any progressive political movement. + +The universities were originally autonomous, and though they were +deprived of their liberties for a time in the early part of the century, +they retained them fully in the reign of Alexander II.; it was not until +then that the universities came to be an important factor, since up to +that period they had been, as I have already said, small and +aristocratic; and it was only in the fifties that they became democratic +and large enough to count. The privilege of autonomy which had been +given to the universities meant that they were administered solely by a +board of professors, at the head of which was a rector. This state of +things lasted until the reign of Alexander III., when the universities +were again deprived of their privileges and their autonomy, and the +Government tried to administer them directly, with the usual result that +trouble ensued; only the trouble brought about by the conflict of the +Government with the universities was more turbulent in character than +that produced by its clash with any other institutions or classes of +society. + +A continual state of effervescence and of disturbance on the one hand, +and of repression on the other, lasted until 1908, when autonomy was +again restored to the universities; and during the next five years +university life began, in spite of periodical strikes and closures, more +or less to settle down; but as reaction set in, a part of its activity +was directed against the liberties of the university. In 1911, for +instance, all the professors in Moscow were forced to resign. + +At the present moment, if we do not hear of disturbances in the +university, this can be attributed to the reaction among the students +themselves, who are in a natural state of depression at the result of +the revolutionary movement of 1905, which from their point of view was a +complete failure. It may safely be said that it is most improbable that +such a state of things will last very long, and even now there are +unmistakable clouds on the horizon. The policy of the Government of +giving, in educational matters, with one hand and of hampering and +hindering with the other, was bound and is bound to result in trouble +sooner or later. The troubles which occurred in the recent past in the +life of the universities, during and subsequent to the revolutionary +movement, without doubt lowered the general standard of education. The +results obtained at present are worse than they should be, considering +the excellence of the professors. Moreover, the constant troubles which +arose in the life of the universities during the revolutionary period, +caused generally by some move on the part of the Government, and +invariably followed by repressive measures (involving temporary +closure), drove thousands of students to seek education abroad. + +All that I have said about the universities applies to the higher +technical institutes, only in a lesser degree. There is a considerable +number of such technical institutes in Russia. St. Petersburg alone can +boast of a Polytechnic, a Technological Institute, a Mining Institute, +an Institute of Civil Engineers, a Higher Commercial Institute; and in +addition to these there are institutes in other parts of Russia where +higher education can be had in the branches of mining, railways, ways +and communications, forestry and agronomy, besides an increasing number +of agricultural schools all over the country. The difference between the +character of higher technical and higher general education, between the +higher technical schools and the universities, is the same as the +difference between the character of the technical secondary schools and +the general secondary schools. + +As in the case of technical secondary education, higher technical +education produces a more practical type than the universities; and the +students of the higher technical institutes only take part in politics +when matters have reached a definite crisis, in which their action can +have practical effect. The great importance of the universities and of +the higher technical institute in Russia lies in the fact that they +supply the ranks of the whole of the higher _intelligentsia_. All +lawyers and all doctors come from the universities, and the life and the +fate of the universities affect the cultured classes vitally. This works +both ways. The universities affect the cultured classes, and the +cultured classes act on the universities. + +For instance, every medical officer in every county council is a +university man, and he will be vitally interested in the fate and doings +of his _alma mater_. Any blow at any particular university will affect a +whole class of people all over the country; the influence of the +universities spreads like a network over the whole length and breadth of +Russia, and produces an _esprit de corps_ and a strong spirit of +freemasonry among the former students of the various universities. + +Games and physical exercise are not a feature of Russian +education—certainly not at least in the English sense; and though +outdoor sports, such as boating and football, have been introduced, and +are popular in some of the universities—Odessa, for instance—it is +impossible at present to discern even the dawn of any trend towards +physical sports and exercise such as we have in France or Spain, for +instance. + +Lately, however, an organization of gymnastical societies, under the +supervision of Czech instructors, and in some ways resembling the German +_Turnvereine_, have taken a firm root in the towns, and enjoy great +popularity; these societies hold yearly festivals, and organize +competitions between various towns. The popularity of these societies is +likely to increase in the future. + +Besides the universities and schools I have mentioned, there are still a +great many more educational institutions: veterinary institutes, schools +of art, archæology, Oriental languages, and law; seminaries, +ecclesiastical and naval schools, and private institutions; and at the +top of the ladder of education there are two academies, one of art and +one of science, consisting of professors, men of science and letters, +who are chosen by election. Scholarships and grants to poor students are +distributed both by the universities and the higher technical schools. + +If one reviews the question of Russian education as a whole, one is +forced to the conclusion that the material both of the teacher and the +pupil is good; the staff of teachers excellent; but that the whole +system is continually and fundamentally vitiated by a policy, not +exactly of repression, but of constant censorship, interference, +checking, nagging, and hindering which saps the school life of Russia, +and deprives it of all potential interest and vitality for the pupil. It +is reduced to an official machine, which turns out either a specimen of +bureaucratic mediocrity, or a rebel who reacts against it and is driven +to anarchy and dynamite. If the Government were to leave the whole +matter alone, there is no doubt that the schools would not only manage +their own affairs perfectly peacefully and well themselves, but that +they would succeed in turning out a type of youth who would be more +really cultured than the present overripe and immature, half-baked, yet +partially burned specimen, which is the average product of a system of +education which cannot fail to be one-sided and unsatisfactory so long +as it is cramped and diverted from larger channels by the exasperating +supervision of a paternal, officious, and suspicious administration. + + + + + CHAPTER X. + JUSTICE. + + +The judicial system of to-day in Russia dates from what is called the +Epoch of the Great Reforms—that is, of the reforms made in 1864 by the +Emperor Alexander II. His new judicial system is, next in order to the +abolition of serfdom, the most important of those reforms. + +Up till 1864 justice in Russia dwelt behind closed doors. It was +organized on a class basis. There was a court for the gentry, a court +for the townsman and for such peasants as did not belong to landowners. +Judicial decisions, civil and criminal, were based solely on documentary +evidence prepared by the police. No oral evidence was admitted. The +proceedings were held _in camera_. The judges appeared in public only in +order to pass sentence or to deliver a judgment. It is needless to say +that a system of this kind encouraged venality, partiality, and +injustice. + +In reforming the old system, the Imperial Government borrowed elements +from the judicial systems existing in France and in England, but it by +no means confined itself to slavish imitation. The aim of the reformers +was to reach the principles and ideas on which our system and the French +system are based; and they created a new system founded on ideas which +have been endorsed both in theory and in practice by modern +civilization. The chief principles at the basis of the reformed judicial +system in Russia are—(1) the separation of administrative and judicial +powers; (2) the independence of the magistrate and the tribunals; (3) +the equality of all subjects in the eye of the law (the abolition in the +eye of the law of all class distinctions); (4) the publicity of trials; +(5) the adoption of oral procedure; (6) the participation of the people +in the system through (_a_) the introduction of trial by jury, (_b_) +originally, although this was altered later, the election of judges. As +a general principle, it can be laid down that important cases in Russia +are tried, as they are tried elsewhere in Europe, by jury, in public and +at the assizes; with one notable exception, that of all political +offences and all crimes and misdemeanours committed by the Press, which +are tried without a jury. + +Where the Russian system differs from the English and the French systems +is that the judicature is divided into two sections mutually +independent, and differing in the extent of their jurisdiction and in +the manner in which their judges are appointed. + +As in many other countries, there are two branches of tribunals—firstly, +what were actually, and what now correspond to, justices of the peace, +dealing with petty cases; and, secondly, ordinary tribunals dealing with +larger matters. These two branches of justice are quite distinct. They +are parallel to each other. They are separate and isolated one from the +other, and meet only on the top of the ladder in their common right of +appealing to the Senate, which is the highest court of appeal. + +Beneath this double system of judicature, local courts exist in every +canton: (_Volostnye Sudi_), _tribunaux de bailliage_, which were +established when the serfs were liberated, dealing exclusively with the +peasants’ affairs, and in which both the judges and judged are peasants. + +The Canton Court consists of a tribunal of three judges elected by the +peasants. It deals with small cases, and deals with them largely +according to established custom and tradition. It stands to reason that +peasants will deal with matters which concern their own customs, codes, +and idiosyncrasies far better than people of any other class.[18] + +The judicial system which comes next above the Canton Courts is dual: +Petty and Grave. The Petty cases are entrusted to local justices of the +peace, town judges, and _zemskie nachalniki_. + +In 1864, when the judicial system was reformed, all such cases were +dealt with by justices of the peace, who were elected by the Zemstvo. In +1889, the elective justices of the peace were done away with, and they +were replaced by _zemskie nachalniki_, who, as I have already explained +in Chapter IV., are a kind of official squire, exercising executive and +judicial authority over the villages in their district. They are +nominated by the governor of the province and appointed by the Minister +of the Interior. Elective justices of the peace have survived only in +St. Petersburg, Moscow, Odessa, and Kharkov, and some other towns, where +they are elected by the town assemblies for a term of three years on a +property qualification.[19] + +In all other towns, and everywhere else, where there are justices of the +peace, they are now appointed by the Minister of Justice. + +This rather complicated system (under which the functions of a judge +were committed into the hands of persons (_zemskie nachalniki_) who were +in their main attributes representative of the executive) is now to be +abolished by a new law recently passed by the Duma, which divests the +_zemskie nachalniki_ of their judicial functions, and replaces the +elective justices of the peace all over the country. This new law comes +into force in regard to ten provinces on January 1, 1914, and will be +extended over the remaining part of the country in the course of the +next year. The jurisdiction of the new justices of the peace has been +increased by the new law. In civil matters they are now competent to try +cases involving fines amounting to 1,000 roubles, and criminal offences +carrying a sentence of simple imprisonment without any curtailment of +civil rights. The appeal from the justices of the peace is made to the +general meeting of the justices of the district; and from the decision +of this meeting (_siezd_) an appeal is allowed, on points of law only, +to the Senate. The Senate, as is shown below, may either dismiss the +appeal or order a new trial. There is, however, no appeal to the Senate +at all where the sentence carries with it a fine of less than 100 +roubles. The limit is now 30 roubles. + +In the hands, then, of the justices of the peace or of the _zemskie +nachalniki_, as the case may be, are civil claims not exceeding 500 +roubles (£50), and criminal cases where the penalty does not exceed four +months’ imprisonment or a fine of 300 roubles (£30). Appeals against the +decision of a justice of the peace may be made to a bench of justices +presided over by a justice of the peace elected by his colleagues; +appeals against the verdicts of town judges and of the _zemskie +nachalniki_ are heard by the District Tribunal (_Uiezdny Siezd_), a +court—the sessions of the district—of which the marshal of the nobility +of the district is the _ex officio_ chairman, and which consists of +_zemskie nachalniki_ (with the exception of course of the particular +_zemsky nachalnik_ or town judge against whose verdict the appeal is +being made), town judges, and the so-called honorary justices of peace. + +Appeals against the verdict of the local courts (_Volostnye Sudi_) are +also heard by this district tribunal. + +An appeal against the verdict of the District Tribunal (_Uiezdny Siezd_) +is allowed on points of law only, and goes before a special Board called +the _Gubernskoye Prisustvie_, consisting of the governor of the +province, as chairman, members of the Divisional Court, and some higher +civil servants of the province. + +Parallel with this branch of justice, which deals with petty cases, we +have quite separate from it another branch which deals with more serious +cases, and which consists of two tribunals: the Divisional Court (Court +of Assizes), and the High Court. + +The Divisional Court deals with all civil cases (with the exception of +petty cases), and roughly speaking, with all criminal cases, with the +exception of those which concern the prosecution of officials for +misdemeanours committed in the performance of their official duties, and +also the great majority of political offences, which are dealt with by +the High Court. The criminal cases which come before the Divisional +Court can be judged by the bench only, or by the bench and a jury; but +if the offence is such that the punishment may limit the civil rights of +the accused, or deprive him of them altogether, the case must be tried +before a jury. Generally speaking, all criminal cases of any importance +are tried before a jury. + +The Divisional Court goes on circuit from place to place; its +jurisdiction usually extends over five or six districts, and sometimes +over a whole government. + +The Russian judicial system is the same as the French system as regards +the nature and composition of its tribunals, its tribunals of first +instance, its facilities for appeal, its court of high appeal +(_Cassation_), its instruments of justice, and its method of procedure. +The justice of the peace and the _zemsky nachalnik_ (who at present +fulfils the duties of a justice of the peace), and the town judge +(_Gorodskoi Sudya_),[20] are the only judges who sit alone. In all other +tribunals there is more than one judge. Every civil or criminal case in +Russia must be heard by three magistrates, one of whom is the president. + +A judge is irremovable unless he should commit a criminal offence. He +can be transferred, but he cannot be removed. Attached to every +Divisional Court and every High Court there is a magistrate appointed by +the Government called the procurator (who is not irremovable, and holds +office at the pleasure of the Minister of Justice), who corresponds to +the French _procureur_; he is the advocate-general and public +prosecutor. His business is to prosecute crime. But before the case +reaches the procurator, it undergoes a preliminary investigation at the +hands of an examining magistrate (_Sudebny Slyedovatel_) who corresponds +to the French _Juge d’instruction_. He begins his investigation at the +instance either of the police, or of a private individual, or of a +plaintiff. Theoretically, the investigation was supposed to be entirely +separate from the prosecution; but, in practice, the examining +magistrate has become more or less a tool in the hands of the +procurator. The examining magistrate has the right either to refer the +result of his investigation to the procurator, or to let the case drop +altogether, should in his opinion the grounds for further proceedings be +insufficient. + +The public prosecutor (_Procurator_), on receiving the _dossier_ of the +case from the examining magistrate (_Slyedovatel_), can either ask the +court to drop the proceedings in view of the failure of the prosecution +to make a case, or else he draws up a bill of indictment (_Obvinitelni +Akt_) on which the accused has to take his trial. In the case of more +serious offences, the bill of indictment, before it goes before the +court, has to be confirmed by the High Court (_Sudebnaya Palata_), which +acts as the French _Chambre de Mise en Accusation_. Civil cases do not +go before the _procurator_, and are tried, as in France, without a jury. + +The procedure resembles that of a French court of justice. First of all, +the witnesses (in criminal cases) are called, and each witness tells his +story consecutively. He is then cross-examined by the procurator, and +then by counsel for the prosecution and counsel for the defence. +Cross-examination is by no means so formidable as in an English criminal +case, because the counsel for the defence can at any moment insert a +question amongst the questions put by the counsel for the prosecution. +When all the witnesses have been heard, the procurator speaks for the +prosecution. He is followed by the counsel for the plaintiff, and then +by the counsel for the defence. After this, the procurator replies to +the counsel for the defence, and they in their turn can reply on given +points. The President of the Court then sums up, and puts to the jury +the questions on which they are to give their verdict. + +The jury have the right of putting questions to any witness, as well as +to the counsel for the prosecution and to the counsel for the defence. + +The jury consist of twelve men, “good men and true.” They are chosen +from all classes of the population, from the whole of the inhabitants of +the district, subject to certain conditions of age, property, domicile, +and position. In the first place, there is a property qualification, +which varies according to different localities. All those who fulfil the +conditions of the law as regards the age and property qualification are +entered on a list (_obshchy spisok_) and become liable to serve on a +jury. From this larger list, a second narrower list (_ocheredny spisok_) +is drawn up of the men who seem the more qualified for the work. + +The sifting process, of which this second list is the result, is carried +out in every district by a Board including several officials, the +marshal of the nobility for its Chairman. The process is repeated every +year, and after the sifting about sixty men remain on the second list, +out of which the jury are drawn by lot. + +But a property qualification is not in all cases indispensable for a +juryman. Public servants, unless they are in the army, in the police, or +in the magistrature, and with the exception of officials of the first +four classes, who are exempted, can be chosen; likewise all local +elective officers, especially peasants, such as the judges of the Canton +Courts, the _elders_ in the commune and the cantons. The net result is +that the jury is mixed and democratic, and as a rule contains a leaven +of peasants and minor public servants, and sometimes, indeed, consists +almost wholly of men from the lower classes. Here, for instance, is a +list of the professions followed by the members of the jury before whom +the Beiliss ritual murder case was heard at Kiev. This jury was +exceptionally below the average of educational standard.[21] + + 1. Peasant, agricultural labourer. + + 2. Peasant, cab-driver. + + 3. Minor public servant employed in postal service. + + 4. Minor public servant employed in postal service. + + 5. Peasant, employed in a wine warehouse. + + 6. Peasant, agricultural labourer. + + 7. Townsman, employed at railway station. + + 8. Peasant, agricultural labourer. + + 9. Secretary at governor’s office, assistant of the revisor in the + auditor’s office. + + 10. Peasant, agricultural labourer. + + 11. Peasant, controller in a town tramway. + + 12. Burgher, small householder. + +The above list, whether it is below average or not—and it was said at +the time to be startlingly below the average—shows more or less the +nature of a Russian jury in a small town. There is generally a larger +dose of a more educated element, but the elements which appear in this +list will probably be present in most juries in varying quantities. It +should be noted, however, that the composition of the lists from which +the jury is drawn is very much in the hands of the local authorities. In +a big town a jury exclusively composed of peasants is an exception, and +a very rare one. + +Hence the peculiar character of the Russian jury, about which much has +been written and much is being written. + +Its chief characteristic is its leniency, its indulgence, its tendency +to acquit. And on this account there existed, and there still exists in +some quarters in Russia, a movement against the jury as an institution, +which bases its disapproval on the reluctance of the jury to condemn. +But it is improbable that such a movement will ever have a practical +result. The disadvantages of tampering in any way with trial by jury are +too obvious. Many characteristic stories exist in Russian literature, +and a still greater number float about in the flotsam and jetsam of +current talk, illustrating by striking instances the peculiar psychology +of the Russian jury. + +It is said that a jury once returned a verdict of “innocent, with +extenuating circumstances.” Garin, the author, tells how his house was +once set on fire by a peasant, and how without much difficulty he +collected overwhelming evidence against a particular peasant for +deliberate arson. The peasant was tried before a jury of peasants in the +Canton Court. His guilt was clearly proved. Nobody had any doubt but +that the verdict would be “guilty.” The peasants on the jury did not +deny the prisoner’s guilt, but were of the opinion that six years’ penal +servitude—the sentence the prisoner would have received for arson—was +disproportionately heavy. + +“Two years in prison,” they reasoned—wrote the foreman, narrating the +case to Garin—“would be enough to instil wisdom in him; but to send him +to penal servitude is too much. In what are his wife and children +guilty? What will they do without a bread-winner?... Their final +argument was that it was a fine day, and the sun was shining +spring-like; how could they ruin a man on such a fine day? They were +sorry for the gentleman, but still more sorry for the orphans and the +wife. Nobody was ever ruined on account of a fire. It was God’s will, +and must be accepted as such.” + +“It was only afterwards,” says Garin, the sufferer in the incident, and +the teller of the story, “that it became clear to me that what from our +point of view may seem the greatest injustice is from the point of view +of the people the expression of the highest justice in the world.” +Immediately after the incident, Garin was obliged to leave the village +where it occurred. He revisited the place two years later. “I was at +once met,” he writes, “by a deputation of peasants, whose spokesman made +me a kind of speech in which he said that the peasants were very glad to +see me; and that they were very glad for my sake that the prisoner had +been acquitted; that the Lord had not allowed me to be burdened with a +sin, in interfering with what was not my business but God’s—the hounding +of criminals. ‘The Lord saved thee from sin,’ they said to me; ‘all the +good which thou didst us has remained to thee, and has not been in vain. +The Lord punished them.’” And finally he tells how the peasants narrated +the bad end the criminals had come to, taking it as a matter of course +that such things belonged to the sphere of Providence, and not to that +of man. + +The story is characteristic. I could quote many others of the same +kind—stories in some cases which are startling in their unexpectedness, +and in the difference of the point of view from that prevailing in other +classes and in other countries. But strange as this point of view may +seem, it will generally be found that there is in it a basis of common +sense and an element of sound fairness. The Russian peasant juryman is +indifferent to legal subtleties, and often quite unaffected by forensic +evidence, which he looks on as a thing made to order, bought and sold. +He will judge by his conscience, and according to his own code of +morals, which, if indulgent, is none the less definite. + +A friend of mine was once serving on a jury in St. Petersburg. The +prisoner was found guilty of an odious crime, but the jury agreed to a +verdict of “guilty, with extenuating circumstances.” My friend asked one +man, who was a peasant, how there could be extenuating circumstances in +such a case, to which he answered, “I am not quite sure he did it.” If +the principle be a just one, that it is better that a guilty man should +go free than that an innocent man should be condemned, then the chief +accusation made against the characteristics of the Russian jury breaks +down. A Russian jury will be almost certain to give the prisoner the +benefit of the doubt. When the ritual murder case began at Kiev, it was +pointed out with dismay in several quarters that it was absurd to try +such a case before an uneducated jury—that a jury of that kind could not +possibly appreciate complicated questions of medical _expertise_, and +all the arcana of folklore and talmudic tradition and interpretations of +Hebrew texts, which played a large part in the trial. But when the trial +was over, those who interviewed the jurymen said that the jury had paid +no attention to all that; the visit to the site where the body was found +was the first thing which affected their opinion; the eloquence of the +able lawyers engaged on both sides did not influence them, as they said +lawyers were “hired”; but the conduct of one of the jury, who spent a +large part of his time in prayer, impressed them; and finally they gave +a verdict of “not guilty,” which was the result of the workings of their +conscience. + +This is all the more remarkable in that they very probably took the +existence of ritual murders as a matter of course; but however this may +have been, they realized that they had to find Beiliss guilty or not +guilty, and they found him not guilty. A jury chosen from the most +cultivated classes of Russia could not have shown more sense, and—as +this case had raised political questions and racial passions just as the +Dreyfus case did—had such a jury been infected by partisanship or +political or religious fanaticism, it is quite possible that things +might not have gone so well for the accused. For whereas the jury thus +constituted might have been liberal, it might just as well have been +reactionary and anti-Semite. Of course the Russian jury has its +drawbacks—it may, if consisting of the lower classes, very likely look +upon certain forms of fraud as rather a good joke; it may be +over-indulgent to certain crimes; but if the principle I mentioned just +now is sound, that it is better for the guilty to escape than that the +innocent should suffer, then these drawbacks are amply compensated for. + +There is another point to remember: by heightening the educational +average of a Russian jury, you would probably increase rather than +diminish its leniency; because this leniency is due to a great extent to +the inborn indulgence, tolerance, and humaneness of the Russian people. + +Juries drawn exclusively from the _intelligentsia_ are said to be still +more indulgent than peasant juries. Opinions differ on this point. A +Russian friend of mine tells me he believes the peasant jury the more +tolerant, in spite of what he has heard, and in spite of his own +experience to the contrary; but it is probably a question of the nature +of the crime—the _intelligentsia_ being more severe for certain crimes +which the peasants would condone as quite natural (say, certain forms of +forgery and violence), and the peasants, on the other hand, dealing +severely with a crime towards which the _intelligentsia_ would be more +leniently disposed. But the main point is that a Russian jury, whatever +its composition, is fundamentally indulgent. It is far more indulgent +than a jury chosen from any other European country. I remember being in +St. Petersburg just after the Crippen case, and hearing it discussed +among educated people in reactionary circles. These people could not +understand how it was possible to hang a man on such slender evidence. +Even if the evidence had been abundant, the punishment seemed to them +too severe, but on slender evidence the sentence seemed to them +monstrous. + +This leads us to the question of the punishments which the Russian law +can inflict. + +The death penalty exists only for attempts on the life of the Emperor or +members of the imperial family, forcible attempts to dethrone the +Emperor, and certain cases of high treason. + +The death penalty was abolished by the Empress Elisabeth in 1753. It is +true that when this was done it was rather the name than anything else +which was abolished, since as long as flogging continued with the +_knut_[22], a leather whip which was as deadly as the cat-of-nine-tails, +a sentence of over thirty blows (thirty-five blows was the maximum +allowed during the last years of flogging) was enough to prove fatal. + +Flogging with the _knut_ was abolished by the Emperor Nicholas I. during +the first year of his reign (1825). During the reign of Alexander II., +from 1855 to 1876, only one man was executed on the scaffold—Karakosov, +who made an attempt on the Emperor’s life. From 1866 to 1903 only 114 +men suffered the penalty of death throughout the Russian empire. These +statistics were read out and discussed in the Council of Empire in July +1906 by M. Tagantsev, a celebrated Russian legist, who pointed out that, +in contradistinction to this leniency, during 1906, from January to +June, 108 people had been condemned to death under martial law, and +ninety had been executed, not counting those who had been killed without +trial. + +When the Duma was dissolved in July 1906, and P. A. Stolypin took the +reins of government in his hands, martial law continued; drum-head +courts-martial were held all over the country, and the number of people +executed during 1907 and 1908 was very great. + +But it must be remembered that during this period the country was in a +state of anarchy. Acts of terrorism were being committed almost daily by +the social-revolutionary party, and acts of hooliganism and robbery +under arms by the criminal classes, who imitated and adopted the methods +of the revolutionaries. A vicious circle of lawless crime and +indiscriminate retaliation seemed to have closed round Russian life, so +that during all this period the executions were to the crimes in a +proportion of about one to three. It should also be remembered that +during certain phases of this epoch many parts of the country were +virtually in a state of civil war. + +In any case, whether Stolypin’s policy was defensible or not—and +theoretically it was indefensible—he was successful with the help of the +reaction that came about in public opinion in putting an end to the +anarchy, and after a time things began to quiet down; drum-head +courtmartial ceased, martial law gave way to “states of reinforced +protection,” and the country gradually gained its normal state, and +capital punishment has once more become rarer, although it cannot yet be +said to be non-existent, since, in virtue of states of reinforced +protection (_Ysilenaya Okhrana_), and by military courts, during 1912, +335 people were condemned to death, and 124 were executed. + +In 1913, 148 were sentenced and 33 were executed (the large number of +persons reprieved being due during this year to an amnesty given on the +occasion of the tercentenary of the imperial family). The majority of +crimes for which sentences of death were passed are evasion from +prisons, riots in prison, or attacks on prison authorities. + +The criminal penalties meted out by Russian law are:— + + (_a_) Penal servitude for life, or for terms ranging from four years + to twenty years. + + (_b_) Imprisonment from four to six years with consequent loss of + civil rights. + + (_c_) Deportation to remote parts of the empire for settlement. + +Formerly all convicts were deported, but now some of them serve their +terms in prisons in the local Russian provinces. + +Besides these criminal penalties, there exist also what are called +corrective penalties, which include various degrees of punishment, +ranging from reprimands, fines, and imprisonment from three days to +three months, at the bottom of the scale, to sentences of one to four +years with loss of civil privileges at the top of the scale. Among these +corrective penalties is what is called fortress imprisonment for one +year four months to four years with loss of rights, and imprisonments +for four weeks to one year four months without loss of rights. This +punishment is usually applied to delinquencies of a political or of a +literary character. + +Certain crimes are far less severely punished in Russia than they are in +England. A murderer, for instance, as a rule will receive a sentence of +twelve years’ penal servitude. In some cases, if there are extenuating +circumstances, if he acted under provocation, he will probably be +acquitted altogether. Again, there are cases of murder which have been +punished by not more than two years’ imprisonment. + +Had Beiliss been found guilty he would not have been hanged—as was +stated in some of the London newspapers—but the maximum sentence he +could have received (for murder of a child accompanied by violence) +would have been penal servitude for life. + +We have seen that there are in Russia two tribunals—the Divisional Court +and the High Court, and that the High Court deals chiefly with political +offences, or with the delinquencies of officials. Cases heard by the +High Court are tried either by the Bench, or by a special tribunal +consisting of judges and what are called “class representatives.” These +consist of the marshal of the nobility of the government, a mayor from +the town, and the elder of the canton (a peasant). Appeals against +verdicts of the Divisional Court in cases which were tried without a +jury can be made to the High Court, which can modify the sentence, and a +final appeal can be made to the Senate. In cases which are tried by a +jury no appeal can be made on points of fact; but an appeal can be made +on points of law to the Senate, which can either confirm the sentence, +or order the case to be retried either before the same tribunal, or +before a tribunal exercising a similar jurisdiction. The verdict in +cases tried by jury cannot therefore be modified, but it can be +cancelled and quashed. + +The Senate in these cases corresponds to the French _Cour de Cassation_. + +The Russian Bar came into existence as a profession in 1864. Any one of +a certain education and standing is admitted to plead in a criminal case +in Russia, unless the case be political. As regards civil cases, the +privilege is limited to the right of appearing before a petty tribunal +three times a year. This is an exception to the rule that in a civil +case only sworn advocates or “private attorneys”[23] are entitled to +plead. Professional lawyers receive their training at the university, +and when, by passing the necessary examination, they are in possession +of a certificate or degree, they are obliged to pass through a +preliminary stage of five years’ “deviling”; then after a formal +examination in legal procedure, they become full-blown “sworn lawyers” +(_prisiazhnye povierenye_). + +The Russian Bar has more than justified its existence. Since it came +into being in 1864 it has produced a number of most remarkable men, +remarkable as lawyers as well as orators. Lately, since the creation of +the Duma, its influence has made itself felt in politics, since many of +the members of the Duma who have played a leading part in politics have +been lawyers. The lawyers naturally had the habit of speech, and were +often trained orators, so that as soon as an opportunity arose for their +peculiar gifts to have free play, they were bound to come to the front +on both sides of the House. Among the members of the Duma who have +attained to prominence are such men as Plevako, Maklakov, and that of +the late M. Muromtsev, the president of the first Duma, who was one of +the most celebrated lawyers of the University of Moscow, and one of the +brightest ornaments of the Russian Civil Bar. + +Generally speaking, of all the reforms carried out by Alexander II., +that of the judicial system—leaving out of account the emancipation of +the serfs, which was the _sine qua non_ of all reform, and without which +all other reforms were useless—was the most greatly acclaimed. In the +first place, because the old system of justice had been so bad; and in +the second place, because the new system proved to be a real success. + +During the period of reaction which set in in the reign of Alexander +III., and during the first years of the reign of the present Emperor, +under the reactionary administration of Plehve, the Bar still retained +its independence; and during this time, it was at the Bar, and at the +Bar only, that independence of thought and speech could be said to +exist. + +It must be said that the revolutionary movement had a bad effect on it: +firstly, because many of its Liberal members were suspended; and +secondly because the Government, after the revolutionary movement, did +everything it could to diminish the moral independence of the judges, +and to make them as reactionary as possible, and in some respects this +was successful. The result of this policy is being felt now in political +or semi-political cases. But this is probably only a transitional and +temporary state of reaction, following on the disturbance of the +revolutionary movement, and it will remedy itself automatically in the +course of time, if the quiet state of things that now exists continues; +but if this proves not to be the case, if the sparks of discontent +suddenly burst into flame, then circumstances of a different kind will +restore to the Bar its ancient independence. Yet as things are now, and +taking all drawbacks, all temporary embarrassments and hindrances, and +all reactionary influences into account; with every disadvantage under +which it may be labouring, the Russian Bar must still be acknowledged an +admirable institution of which any country should feel justly proud. + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + THE FASCINATION OF RUSSIA. + + +Gogol, the greatest of Russian humorists, has a passage in one of his +books, where in exile he cries out to his country to reveal the secret +of her fascination. + +“What is the mysterious and inscrutable power which lies hidden in you?” +he exclaims. “Why does your aching and melancholy song echo unceasingly +in one’s ears? Russia, what do you want of me? What is there between you +and me?” This question has often been repeated, not only by Russians in +exile, but by foreigners who have lived in Russia. + +The country is so devoid of the more obvious and unmistakable signs of +glamour and attraction. As Gogol says, not here are those astonishing +miracles of nature which are made still more startling by the triumphs +of art. + +In Russia there are no + + “Congesta manu prœruptis oppida saxis, + Fluminaque antiquos subterlabentia muros”; + +no + + “old palaces and towers + Quivering within the wave’s intenser day, + All overgrown with azure moss and flowers”; + +no “noble wreck in ruinous perfection,” where “the stars twinkle through +the loops of time”; no “castle, precipice-encurled in a gash of the +wind-grieved Apennine”; no “rose-red city half as old as time.” + +There are none of those spots where nature, art, time, and history have +combined to catch the heart with a charm in which beauty, association, +and even decay are indistinguishably mingled; where art has added the +picturesque to the beauty of nature; and where time has made magic the +handiwork of art; and where history has peopled the spot with countless +phantoms, and cast over everything the strangeness and the glamour of +her spell. + +Such places you will find in France and in England, all over Italy, in +Spain, and in Greece, but not in Russia. Russia is a country of +colonists, where life has been a continual struggle against the rigour +and asperity of the climate, and whose political history is the record +of a long and desperate struggle against adverse circumstances; whose +oldest city was sacked and burnt just at the moment when it was +beginning to flourish; whose first capital was destroyed by fire in +1812; whose second capital dates from the seventeenth century; whose +stone houses are rare in the country, and whose wooden houses are +perpetually being destroyed by fire. + +A country of long winters and fierce summers, of rolling plains, +uninterrupted by mountains and unvariegated by valleys. + +And yet the charm is there. It is a fact which is felt by quantities of +people of different nationalities and races; and it is difficult, if you +live in Russia, to escape it, and once you have felt it you will never +be free from it. The aching, melancholy song, which Gogol says wanders +from sea to sea throughout the length and breadth of the land, will for +ever echo in your heart, and haunt the recesses of your memory. + +It is impossible to analyze charm, for if charm could be analyzed it +would cease to exist; and it is difficult to define the charm which is +attached to places where there is so little of that startlingly obvious +beauty of nature or art whose appeal is instantaneous; where there is no +playground of romance, and no abodes haunted by poetic or historical +ghosts and echoes. + +But to those who have never been to Russia, and who will perhaps never +go there, Turgeniev’s descriptions of the country will give an idea of +this unique and peculiar magic. For instance, the description of the +summer night, when on the plain the children tell each other bogey +stories; or the description of that other July evening, when out of the +twilight from a long way off on the plain, a child’s voice is heard +calling, “Antropka-a-a,” and Antropka answers, “Wha-a-a-a-a-at”; and far +away out of the immensity comes the answering voice, “Come ho-ome; +because daddy wants to whip you.” + +Turgeniev will afford to those who wish to travel in their armchair +magical glimpses of just those particular episodes, pictures, incidents, +sayings and doings, touches of human nature, phases of landscape, shades +of atmosphere, which constitute the charm of Russian life. + +Whereas those who will actually travel in Russia itself will recognize +not only that what he writes is true to nature, but that incidents such +as those he records and causes to live again by means of his +incomparable art are a frequent and common experience to those who have +eyes to see. + +The picturesqueness peculiar to countries rich in a long tradition of +art, and in varied and conflicting historical associations, may be +absent in Russia; but this does not mean that beauty is absent, and its +manifestations are often all the more striking from their lack of +obviousness. + +I was favoured with such a glimpse this summer. I was staying in a small +wooden house in Central Russia, not far from a railway, but isolated +from all other houses, and at a fair distance from a village. The +harvest was nearly done. The heat was sweltering. Everything was parched +and dry. The walls and ceilings were black with flies. One had no wish +to venture out of doors until the evening. + +The small garden of the house, which was gay with asters and sweet peas, +was surrounded by birch trees, with here and there a fir tree in their +midst. + +Opposite the little house a broad pathway, flanked on each side by a row +of tall birch trees, lead to the margin of the garden, which ended in a +rather steep grass slope, and a valley, or rather a dip, likewise +wooded, and on the other side of the dip, on a level with the garden, +there was a pathway half hidden by trees; so that from the house, if you +looked straight in front of you, you saw a broad path, with birch trees +on each side of it, forming as it were a proscenium for a distant view +of trees; and if anybody walked along the pathway on the other side of +the dip, although you saw no road, you could see their figures in +outline against the sky, as though they were walking across the back of +a stage. + +Just as the cool of the evening began to fall, out of the distance came +a rhythmical song, very high, and ending on a note that seemed to last +for ever, piercingly clear and clean. Then the music came a little +nearer, and one could distinguish first a solo chanting a phrase, and +then a chorus taking it up, and finally, solo and chorus became one, +reaching a climax on one high note, which went on and on, getting purer +and stronger, without any seeming effort, until it eventually died away. + +The tone of the voices was so high, so pure, and at the same time so +peculiar, so strong and unusual, that it was difficult at first to +decide whether the voices were high tenor men’s voices, womanly +sopranos, or boyish trebles. They were quite unlike, both in range and +quality, the voices of women you usually hear in Russian villages. The +music drew nearer, and it filled the air with a stateliness and a calm +indescribable. And presently, in the distance, beyond the dip between +the trees, and in the centre of the natural stage made by the garden, I +saw against the sky figures of women walking slowly in the sunset, and +singing as they walked, carrying their scythes and their wooden rakes +with them; and once again the high, pure phrase began, to be repeated by +the chorus; and once again chorus and solo melted together in a high and +infinitely long-drawn-out note, which seemed to swell like the sound of +some crystal clarion, to grow purer and more single, and to go on and +on, until it ended suddenly and sharply, like a frieze ends. And this +song seemed to proclaim rest after toil, and satisfaction for labour +accomplished. It was like a hymn of praise, a broad benediction, a grace +sung for the end of the day, the end of the summer, the end of the +harvest. It seemed the very soul and spirit of the breathless August +evening. + +Slowly the women walked past and disappeared into the trees once more. +The glimpse was but momentary, yet it sufficed to conjure up a whole +train of thoughts and pictures of rites, ritual, and custom—of pagan +ceremonies older than the gods, of rustic worship and rural festival +older than all creeds. And as another verse of what sounded like a +primeval harvest hymn began, the brief vision of the reapers, erect, +stately, full of dignity, sacerdotal and majestic in the dress and with +the attributes of toil, added to the impression made by the high quality +and pure concent of the singing, and one felt as if one had had a vision +of another phase of time, a glimpse into an older and remoter +world—older than Virgil, older than Romulus, older than Demeter—a world +where the spring, the summer, and the autumn, harvest time and sowing, +the gathering of fruits, and the vintage, were the gods; a gleam from +the golden age, a breath from the morning and the springtide of the +world. + +The place seemed to become a temple in the quiet light of the +evening—august, sacred, and calm—and the procession of those stately +figures, diminutive in the distance, was like the design on an archaic +vase or frieze; and the music seemed to seal a sacrament, to be the +initiation into some immemorial secret, into some far-off mystery—who +knows, perhaps the Mystery of Eleusis?—or older mysteries, of which +Eleusis was but the far-distant offspring? The music passed, the singing +died away in the distance, and one felt inclined to say,— + + “Is it a vision or a waking dream? + Fled is that music—do I wake or sleep?” + +When I say that the singing evoked thoughts of Greece, the thing is less +fantastic than it seems. In the first place, in the songs of the Russian +peasants the Greek modes are still in use—the Dorian, the Hypo-dorian, +the Lydian, the Hypo-phrygian. “_La musique, telle qu’elle était +pratiquée en Russie au moyen âge_” (writes M. Soubier in his _History of +Russian Music_), “_tenait à la tradition des religions et des mœurs +paiennes._” And in the secular as well as in the ecclesiastical music of +Russia there is an element of influence which is purely Hellenic. + +It turned out that the particular singers I heard on that evening were +not local singers, but a guild of women reapers who had come from the +government of Tula to work during the harvest. Their singing, although +the form and kind of song was familiar to me, was quite different in +quality from any that I had heard before; and the impression made by it +is unforgettable. + +If the aspect of nature in Russia is, broadly speaking, monotonous and +uniform, this does not mean that beauty manifests itself infrequently. +Not only magic moments occur in the most unpromising surroundings, but +beauty is to be found in Russian nature and landscape at all times and +all seasons in a multitude of shapes. + +Personally I know nothing more striking than a long drive in the evening +twilight at harvest time over the immense hedgeless rolling fields in +Russia, through stretches of golden wheat and rye variegated with +millet, still green and not yet turned to the bronze colour it takes +later; when you drive for miles over monotonous and yet ever-varying +rolling fields, and when you see the cranes, settling for a moment, and +then flying off into space. + +Later in the twilight, great continents of dovelike lilac clouds float +in the east, and the west is suffused with the dusty and golden +afterglow of the sunset, and the half-reaped corn and the spaces of +stubble are burnished and glow in the heat, and smouldering fires of +weeds burn here and there; and as you reach a homestead you will perhaps +see by the threshing machine a crowd of dark men and women still at +their work, and in the glow from the flame of a wooden fire and the +shadow of the dusk, in the smoke of the engine and the dust of the +chaff, they have a Rembrandt-like power; and the feeling of space, +breadth, and air and immensity grows upon one; and the earth seems to +grow larger, and the sky to grow deeper, and the spirit is lifted, +stretched, and magnified. + +The Russian poets have celebrated more frequently the spring and +winter—the brief spring with the intense green of the birch trees, the +uncrumpling fern, the woods carpeted with lilies of the valley, the +lilac bushes, and the nightingale, which in Russia is the bird of +spring, later the briar, which flowers in great profusion; and the +winter with its fields of snow scintillating in the sunshine, when the +transparent woods are black against the whiteness, or, when covered with +snow and frozen, they form an enchanted fabric, a fantastic tracery of +powdered shapes, gleaming against the stainless blue, or when, after a +night of thaw, the brown branches emerge once more covered with airy +threads and drops of sparkling dew. + +Wonderful, too, is the sunset and twilight of the winter evening after +the first snow has fallen in December, when the new moon rises above and +is poised, like a silver sail, or a gem, in a sea of azure that is +suffused, as it grows nearer the earth, with a rosy blush. The white +rays of the new moon looking down from the sky flood the sheets of snow +with radiance, and lend them an intenser purity; and lastly, with a +tinge of cold blue in their whiteness, they show up in bold relief the +wooden houses, the red roofs, and all the furniture of toil; and these +practical and prosaic household things—these objects and attributes of +everyday life—assume a strange largeness and darkness as they loom +between the snow and the faintly blushing and lustrous sky, as unreal +and portentous as the conjured visions of a magician. + +The beauty and exhilaration of winter has been well sung by the Russian +poets, and the long drives in sledges under a leaden sky, to the +monotonous tinkle of the sledge bell, and the whistling blizzard with +its demons that lead the horses astray in the night; and as for the +spring, whose invasion after the melting of the snows is so sudden, +whose green robes are so startling in their intensity, and whose +conquest of nature is so sudden and so swift, it has evoked some of the +finest pages of Russian literature, in prose as well as in verse. + +But there will be some who will enjoy more than anything in Russia the +summer afternoons on some river, where the flat banks are covered with +oak trees, ash, and willow, and thick undergrowth, and where every now +and then perch rise to the surface to catch flies, and the kingfishers +skim over the surface from reach to reach. Perhaps you will take a boat +and row past islands of rushes, and a network of waterlilies, to where +the river broadens, and you reach a great sheet of water flanked by a +weir and a mill. The trees are reflected in the glassy surface, and +nothing breaks the stillness but the grumbling of the mill and the cries +of the children bathing. + +And then, if you are near a village, all through the summer night you +will hear song answering song, and the brisk rhythm of the accordion; or +to the interminable humming, buzzing burden of the three-stringed +_balalaika_, verse will succeed to verse of an apparently tireless song, +and the end of each verse will seem to beget another and give a keener +zest to the next; and the song will go on and on, as if the singer were +intoxicated by the sound of his own music. + +But the peculiar manifestations of the beauty of nature in a flat and +uniform country are not enough to account for the overwhelming +fascination of Russia. That is a part of it, but that is not all. And +against that in the other scale you must put dirt, squalor, misery, +slovenliness, disorder, and uninspiring wooden provincial towns, the +dusty or sodden roads, the frequent gray skies, the long and heavy +sameness. + +The _advocatus diaboli_ has a strong case. He could, and often does, +draw up an indictment proving to you that Russia is a country with a +disagreeable climate—an arid summer producing uncertain harvests which +sometimes result in starvation, an intolerably long winter, a damp and +unhealthy spring, and a still more unhealthy autumn: a country whose +capital is built on a swamp, where there are next to no decent roads, +where the provincial towns are overgrown villages, squalid, squatting, +dismal, devoid of natural beauty, and unredeemed by art: a country where +internal communications off the big railway lines are complicated and +bad; where on the best lines accidents happen owing to sleepers being +rotten; where the cost of living is high, and the expense of life out of +all proportion to the quality of the goods supplied; where labour is +dear, bad, and slow; where the sanitary conditions in which the great +mass of the population live are deplorable; where every kind of disease, +including plague, is rampant; where medical aid and appliances are +inadequate; where the poor people are backward and ignorant, and the +middle class slack and slovenly; and where progress is deliberately +checked and impeded in every possible way: a country governed by chance, +where all forms of administration are arbitrary, uncertain, and +dilatory; where all forms of business are cumbersome and burdened with +red tape; and where bribery is an indispensable factor in business and +administrative life: a country burdened by a vast official population, +which is on the whole lazy, venal, and incompetent: a country where +political liberty and the elementary rights of citizenship do not exist; +where even the programmes of concerts, and all foreign newspapers and +literature, are censored; where the freedom of the Press is hampered by +petty annoyances, and editors are constantly fined and sometimes +imprisoned; where freedom of conscience is hampered; a country where the +only political argument which can be used by a private person is +dynamite, and where political assassination is the only form of civic +courage: a country of misrule: a country where there is every licence +and no law; where everybody acts regardless of his neighbour; where you +can do everything and criticize nothing; and where the only way to show +you have the courage of your convictions is to spend years in prison: a +country of extremes, of moral laxity, and extravagant self-indulgence; a +people without self-control and without discipline; always finding +fault, always criticizing, but never acting; jealous of anything or +anybody who emerges from the ranks and rises superior to the average; +looking upon all individual originality and distinction with suspicion; +a people slavish to the dead level of mediocrity and the stereotyped +bureaucratic pattern; a people which has all the faults of the Orient +and none of its austerer virtues, and none of its dignity and +self-control; a nation of ineffectual rebels under the direction of a +band of time-serving officials: a country where those in power are in +perpetual fear, and where influence may come from any quarter—where +nothing is too absurd to happen: a country, as was said in the Duma, of +unlimited possibilities. I do not think the _advocatus diaboli_ can put +the case stronger than that. He would call as his witnesses the greatest +Russian writers of the past, and the most prominent Russians of the +present in political life, art, literature, and science. He would call +countless moralists and satirists, and prove that the Russian God is the +God of all that is topsy-turvy, and of everything which is in its wrong +place and as it should not be. And he would laugh at all the reformers, +and tell them to reform themselves; and he would end his indictment with +a smile, and murmur, “_Doux pays!_” Of course the case of the _advocatus +diaboli_ is as unfair as possible, otherwise it would not be the case of +the _advocatus diaboli_. And the defence could make a strong +counter-case refuting some of these statements, qualifying all of them. + +But the defence can do better than that. It can point out that the very +strength of the case of the _advocatus diaboli_ constitutes its +weakness; because if you say to him: “I know all that, and you can make +your case still stronger, if you choose. I admit all that; and in spite +of all, and in some cases even because of it, Russia has for me an +indescribable fascination; in spite of all that, I love the country, and +admire and respect its people.” + +What can he answer to that? Nothing, I think. If you admit the faults, +and add that they seem to you the negative results of positive qualities +so valuable as to outweigh them altogether, the case of the _advocatus +diaboli_ breaks down altogether. That is my point of view about Russia. +I perceive countless faults and drawbacks, some which may be the +fortuitous result of bad government, and only temporary, and which will +disappear, as other worse things have already disappeared, with the +march of time; and others which may be innate and radical—the result of +original sin, and the way in which the Russian character expresses its +indispensable dose of original sin, and inseparable from it and +ineradicable. There may be many more which I do not even perceive. But +this does not affect me, because I have realized and experienced the +result of other qualities and virtues which seem to me greater and more +important than all the possible faults put together, and magnified to +any extent; and the net result of this is that the country has for me an +overpowering charm, and the people an indescribable attraction. + +And the charm exercised by the country as a whole is partly due to the +country itself, and partly to the mode of life lived there, and to the +nature of the people. The qualities that do exist, and whose benefit I +have experienced, seem to me the most precious of all qualities; and the +virtues the most important of all virtues; and the glimpses of beauty +the rarest in kind; the songs and the music the most haunting and most +heart-searching; the poetry nearest to nature and man; the human charity +nearest to God. + +This is perhaps the secret of the whole matter, that the Russian soul is +filled with a human Christian charity which is warmer in kind and +intenser in degree, and expressed with a greater simplicity and +sincerity, than I have met with in any other people anywhere else; and +it is this quality being behind everything else which gives charm to +Russian life, however squalid the circumstances of it may be, which +gives poignancy to its music, sincerity and simplicity to its religion, +manners, intercourse, music, singing, verse, art, acting—in a word, to +its art, its life, and its faith. + +Never did I realize this so much as once when I was driving on a cold +and damp December evening in St. Petersburg in a cab. It was dark, and I +was driving along the quays from one end of the town to the other. For a +long time I drove in silence, but after a while I happened to make some +remark to the cabman about the weather. He answered gloomily that the +weather was bad and everything else too. For some time we drove on again +in silence, and then some other stray remark or question of mine +elicited from him the fact that he had had bad luck that day in the +matter of a fine. The matter was a trivial one, but somehow or other my +interest was half aroused, and I got him to tell me the story, which was +a case of ordinary bad luck and nothing very serious; but when he had +told it, he gave such a profound sigh that I asked whether it was that +which was still weighing upon him. Then he said “No,” and slowly began +to tell me a story of a great catastrophe which had just befallen him. +He possessed a little land and a cottage in the country not far from St. +Petersburg. His house had been burnt. It was true he had insured, but +the insurance was not sufficient to make any sensible difference. He had +two sons, one of whom went to school, and one who had some employment +somewhere in the provinces. The catastrophe of the fire had simply upset +everything. All his belongings had perished. He could no longer send his +boy to school. His other son, who was in the country, had written to say +he was engaged to be married, and had asked his consent, advice, and +approval. “He has written twice,” said the cabman, “and I keep silence +(_i ya molchu_). What can I answer?” I cannot give any idea of the +strength, simplicity, and poignancy of the tale as it came, hammered out +slowly, with pauses between each sentence, and a kind of biblical and +dignified simplicity of utterance and purity of idiom which is the +precious privilege of the poor in Russia. The words seemed to be torn +out from the bottom of his heart. He made no complaint; there was no +grievance, no whine in the story. He just stated the bald facts with a +simplicity which was overwhelming. And in spite of all, his faith in +God, and his consent to the will of Providence, was unshaken, certain, +and sublime. This was three years ago. I have forgotten the details of +the story, which were many; but the impression remains of having been +face to face with a human soul, stripped and naked, and a human soul in +the grip of a tragedy, as dignified as that of Prometheus, as touching +as that of King Lear, and as full of faith as that of Job. And this +experience, which brought one in touch with the divine, is one which, I +submit, could only in such circumstances occur in Russia. + +When I say that for me Russia has a unique and overwhelming charm, I +mean that for me this charm arises from my love of the Russian people; +and this love is not a predilection for the curious, the picturesque, +the remote, and the unusual, but the expression, the homage, the +acknowledgment, the admiration of those qualities which I believe to be +the “captain jewels” in the crown of human nature. + +“Those foreigners,” wrote a Russian journalist not long ago, “who come +to Russia and rave about the people, nevertheless in their hearts +despise us. They admire in us qualities which they regard as primeval +and barbarian; they look upon us as good-natured and pleasant savages.” +I should like to assure that writer, or any other Russian who chances to +read these pages, that, whatever people may think, what I love and +admire in the Russian people is nothing barbaric, picturesque, or +exotic, but something eternal, universal, and great—namely, their love +of man and their faith in God. And this seems to me of a kind and of a +degree that makes all dissection of vices and enumeration of failings, +all carping criticism and captious analysis, an idle business. It may be +a profitable employment for the Russians to blame and to criticize +themselves, and it is one in which they are constantly occupied. It is +less important in the case of a foreigner writing for foreigners, and on +a country about which much prejudice has existed in the past and many +falsehoods have been written; for him it is important to recognize and +to point out the sunshine of which his countrymen are ignorant, and not +to analyze the spots on the sun. For it is the people who admire whose +observation is profitable, and it is those who see and feel the sunshine +who feel and see the truth; for the sunshine and not the sun-spots is +the important fact about the sun. + +Nevertheless, the expression of an admiration for certain qualities in a +foreign people is always a delicate task. And often foreigners are +justly irritated for being praised for the qualities which they least +want to be praised for. Nothing is more irritating than the +condescending tone which some people adopt in praising certain elements +which meet with their approval in foreign countries. When, for instance, +Anglo-Saxons say to the Latin races: “Keep to your past; keep to your +superstitions, your relics, your ruins, and your associations; remain +artistic and picturesque; but keep your hands off battleships, +aeroplanes, telephones, tramcars, and steam ploughs; leave those +practical things to us. You cannot deal with them. You are charming as +you are. Do not try to be modern, you spoil the whole effect by doing +so.” This is often the attitude of people to the Spaniards and the +Italians, and it is a maddening attitude. Or to the Irish they say: “You +are amusing, why should you be competent? Why should you try and deal +with the serious business of politics?” And such talk to an Irishman is +more than maddening. Or supposing foreigners were to say to the English, +to the countrymen of Shakespeare, Milton, Shelley, Sir Joshua Reynolds, +Gainsborough, and Constable: “Don’t bother about writing poetry or +painting pictures, stick to your counters and your cotton-mills, you +people of shopkeepers; leave art to us,” we should resent it. This +attitude of mind arises from what a French writer calls “_un optimisme +béat_”—a sort of open-mouthed, weak-chinned satisfaction with oneself +and all things, which is hopeless and infuriating. And when this +attitude is blent with a tincture of rancid unction or a dose of gushing +and indulgent sentimentalism—when, for instance, people condescend to +patronisingly rave about the ritual of such an institution as the +Catholic Church it is more intolerable still. + +It is for this reason I wish to make myself quite clear on this point. +If, as I hope, I have escaped the pitfall of giving the impression that +Russians are interesting as exotic and barbaric specimens, as +thinly-civilized savages, I none the less wish not to incur the +suspicion that, in admiring in them the qualities of the heart, I am +overlooking in them the qualities of the head, or assuming the absence +of sterner stuff, and of the tougher and more practical virtues. I do +not wish it to be thought that I am saying to them, “Be good, sweet +child; let those who will be clever.” It is not necessary to point out +their cleverness and all it stands for. We all know they are clever. I +wish to point out that I think they are good as well; and that their +goodness is more important than their cleverness, because in general +goodness is a rarer as well as a greater thing than cleverness. This may +be a truism, but modern life has given to most truisms the appearance of +startling paradoxes. + +Take, on the one hand, the most striking examples among examples of +energy and practical achievements—of men, deeds, and facts—which the +Latin and Anglo-Saxon races can show, and Russia need not fear to hold +her own. + +Take any one of the faults which Russian critics hold up as the curse of +the country, and it is easy to show that though the accusation may be +true, it is not the whole truth; that the contrary is true also, and the +exceptions startling. Russians, for instance, often single out laziness +and the want of practical energy as a national failing. Well and good; +but the defence of Sevastopol, the creation of the Trans-Siberian +Railway, and the transport of troops over a single line during war time, +are examples of abnormal energy in the domain of achievement; and in the +persons of Peter the Great, Suvorov, and Skobeliev, Russia has given to +the world examples of terrific and explosive energy. Stern stuff must +exist somewhere in the Russian character, or else the Russian empire +would not be there to testify to the fact. The Russian empire is the +result of something, and it is there. + +On the other hand, take those crying faults which Russian critics single +out and deplore as being the sorest plague-spots and the weakest points +in the national life and character, and you will find it easy to match +them in the other countries of Europe and in America. And you will often +find that what is attributed to the evils of a particular form of +government is very often really the result of original sin, and common +to all countries under different forms and names. + +But my point is that while, as far as the general category of faults and +qualities, virtues and vices is concerned, the Russians are on a par +with other countries, and no worse if no better, they have, _ceteris +paribus_, a peculiar and unique gift of goodness and faith in the nature +of their people which is difficult to match in any other country, +although you will find something like it in America. + +That is why I have dwelt less on that stern stuff and those tough and +stubborn qualities which must be common to all great nations, and whose +existence naturally and inevitably follows from the very fact of a +nation being a great nation. Such qualities must be taken for granted. +Did they not exist, there would be no such thing as the Russian empire. + +That is why I disregard them here, and have chosen to dwell more on +those qualities which I believe to be peculiar to Russia, and which I +believe to be also a source of greatness. I happen also to think these +latter qualities to be more important in themselves. + +I hope now that I have made it plain that it is on account of a humble +admiration for these special qualities, which by no means excludes a +serious recognition and respect for all other general qualities, and not +on account of any fantastic whim, condescending self-complacency, or +hypocritical sense of superiority, that with regard to Russia I echo the +words which R. L. Stevenson once addressed to the deaf ear of a French +novelist: “_J’ai beau admirer les autres de toute ma force, c’est avec +vous que je me complais à vivre._” + + + THE END. + +----- + +Footnote 1: + + From this will be seen the difference between a Russian absentee + landowner and an English landlord. The English landlord is essentially + a partner in the farming, even if he does not farm the land himself, + because he will always sink a certain amount of capital in buildings + and their upkeep, whereas the Russian absentee landowner invests no + capital in anything: he merely receives the rent. In some cases even + the land taxes are paid by the tenant. + +Footnote 2: + + Besides this hereditary nobility there was what is called personal + nobility, which was not hereditary. (This fact is without any great + importance; it simply means that when bureaucracy was established in + Russia it was necessary to distinguish between higher and lower grades + of public servants, and personal nobility simply conferred rights of + independence, at a time when only nobles and public servants possessed + any such recognized rights.) + +Footnote 3: + + It is perhaps as well to note here that the Russian law + counterbalances this state of affairs by giving the right to women, + even during the lifetime of their husbands, of enjoying and + administrating their own property. The Russian woman is not a minor in + the eyes of the law as in France. + +Footnote 4: + + See page 114. + +Footnote 5: + + Contrary to this last provision, the clause was taken advantage of by + the Government in 1907 to make a new electoral law which changed the + nature of the franchise. This was illegal, and according to the + fundamental laws, a _coup d’état_. + +Footnote 6: + + The number varies from three to twelve. + +Footnote 7: + + Besides the Council of Ministers, there are various other deliberative + institutions, such as a Military Council, an Admiralty Council, an + Imperial Defence Council, a Financial Committee, and a Court of + Chancery. + +Footnote 8: + + By a recent law which came into force in January 1914 the _zemskie + nachalniki_ are being abolished in certain portions of Russia and + replaced by elective Justices of Peace. + +Footnote 9: + + The peasants of each Canton elect a candidate, and the elected + candidates in their turn elect from amongst themselves the number of + members required. The nobility, the merchants, and any peasants who + are outside the Commune—that is to say, private landowners—are elected + by property qualification; they have to possess so many acres, or so + much immovable property, or a commercial or industrial establishment + of a certain assessed value. People who own not less than one-tenth of + the necessary property qualification, also persons who are less than + twenty-five years of age, and women, may take part in the election by + proxy. + +Footnote 10: + + The Government or Provincial Zemstvo Assembly is composed of a certain + number of members, fixed by the law, elected by the District + Assemblies:— + + Of all the marshals of the nobility; + Of all the presidents of the districts; + Of the chairman and members of the government council; + Of representatives of the clergy; + Of the heads of the local branches of the Department of Agriculture. + +Footnote 11: + + Cheerfulness, _not_ gaiety. + +Footnote 12: + + _Russkoe Slovo_: “At the Music Hall: G. Bayan,” September 14 (27), + 1913. + +Footnote 13: + + There is also in Lent the Mass of the Presanctified. + +Footnote 14: + + It is very improbable that anything of the kind will occur. + +Footnote 15: + + These are more or less in a state of decay, and in spite of periodic + spurts of activity brought about by various stimuli, such as + Government grants, they always lag behind the Zemstvo schools, as they + are a nuisance to the clergy themselves, who rarely have time to + attend to them. + +Footnote 16: + + I quote these figures from the Russian Year Book, compiled by Dr. + Howard Kennard, for 1913. + +Footnote 17: + + University education is _the_ education in Russia. It has a + traditional pretension to be superior to all other (specialized) + education, owing to its encyclopædic and philosophical character. The + Russian characteristic of knowing something about everything and + having vast _aperçus_ is fostered by it. The university is to the + Russian student what Paris is to the Frenchman, what Athens was to the + ancient world. The student often misses the lectures of his own course + and attends the lectures of other faculties, and this is encouraged by + the professors, who did the same when they were young. In Russia, + erratic and sporadic information is preferred to systematic and narrow + knowledge. + +Footnote 18: + + According to a new law, which comes into force on January 1, 1914, a + higher village court has been created for the consideration of appeals + from the Canton Court, consisting of the local justice of peace as + chairman, and the presidents of the Canton Courts of the district as + members. + +Footnote 19: + + Nishni-Novgorod, Kazan, Saratov, Kishniev, and the district (_yiezd_) + of St. Petersburg. + +Footnote 20: + + This officer is to be abolished by the new law. At present he + exercises the same judicial functions as the zemsky nachalnik, with + the difference that his jurisdiction is in the town districts, that of + the zemsky nachalnik in the country districts. + +Footnote 21: + + It has been widely affirmed that there has never been a peasant jury + in Kiev before. + +Footnote 22: + + The word _knut_ is the ordinary word for whip. + +Footnote 23: + + Private attorneys (_chastnye povierenye_) plead before a specific + court from which they have received a special licence. They are not + required to take a university degree. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + BY MAURICE BARING. + + + WHAT I SAW IN RUSSIA. 1s. net. + + “The experiences and impressions of a most accomplished travel-writer, + journeying to the battlefield of Liao-yang and back.” + + _The Pall Mall Gazette._ + + “The volume is made up from three of the author’s earlier books, and + contains those sections which he regards as of permanent interest. The + reader will find that they give a fascinating account of modern life + in Russia as viewed from various standpoints.” + + _The Queen._ + + THOMAS NELSON AND SONS. + + THE MAINSPRINGS OF RUSSIA. _First Published, June 1914._ + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Used numbers for footnotes. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + ● The caret (^) serves as a superscript indicator, applicable to + individual characters (like 2^d) and even entire phrases (like + 1^{st}). + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77805 *** |