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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78697-0.txt b/78697-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..23d7ae1 --- /dev/null +++ b/78697-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7825 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78697 *** + + + THE TWO + FRONTIERS + + A STUDY IN HISTORICAL PSYCHOLOGY + + + JOHN GOULD FLETCHER + + + PUBLISHED IN NEW YORK BY + COWARD-McCANN, INC. + IN THE YEAR 1930 + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1930, BY + COWARD-McCANN, INC. + + + _Printed in the U.S.A._ + + + + + _To_ + ELIE FAURE + + + + +BOOK I + + + _Only strong personalities can endure history; the weak are crushed + beneath it._ + + NIETZSCHE. + + + + +Chapter I + + +The study of history, which in the nineteenth century became no +longer the province of a few specialists, but an almost universal +pursuit carried on in hundreds of schools, and seemingly essential +to the welfare of the State, is only of value if we are able to use +historical criteria, the values of the past, as a means not only +of judging but also of directing the latent powers of the present +and the future. In most cases, however, to-day, history is studied +merely for the purpose of recovering the past; and in order to bring +the past into relation with the present day, something more than the +pure historical sense is needed. For the process called history is +in reality irreversible; we cannot go back to any specific age in +the past and live in it even if we would, for the simple reason that +we are the past plus--or minus--something. The only conception of +human progress that is philosophically correct is not a conception of +objective external progress at all: actually it is probable that we +exercise no more control over nature--and this despite our machines and +labour-saving inventions--than our most remote and savage ancestors +exercised with their magical rituals to ensure a supply of game, or +the earth’s fertility. If we have progressed at all, it is solely in +subjective curiosity, range of knowledge, and interest in our own +destiny. Through progress in research, depth of speculation, we have +become something different from the peoples of the past. We have added +to their experience other experiences of our own. We now face larger, +more complex, and more world-embracing problems than any Greek of the +age of Pericles ever envisaged. We must think more,--though whether our +thinking will lead to such good results may well be doubted--than any +of our forefathers thought during the whole course of their lives. + +The superficial study of history on the other hand leads merely to +the shallow modern view that history has already organised the world +and done our thinking for us. We may develop this view optimistically +or pessimistically, but the results are equally vicious. If we +take the point of view that history has made us the heirs of the +ages, and set us on the summit of human progress, we sink into a +Philistine acceptance of evils that will lead inevitably to disastrous +self-complacency and to such catastrophes as the recent European War. +It was in fact in Germany in the nineteenth century that this view of +history developed, under Fichte and Hegel, and against its optimism +Nietzsche wrote the best of his early essays. But one can find much +of this same Philistine complacency with what history has already +achieved, in such countries as America to-day, and it is partly with +the aim of destroying it, that I have embarked on this study. On the +other hand if we regard history more pessimistically as a series of +magnificent efforts which somehow came to nothing, we fall into no less +serious an error. The outcome of such a belief is to beg the entire +question of our present-day existence. We become nostalgically romantic +over some specific period in the past, say Ancient Greece or the +thirteenth century, and ascribe all our inability fully to recapture +the period in question to something which we call “modern capitalism,” +or the Renaissance, or democracy, or evangelical Christianity. In any +case we transfer our own responsibility for the present day to the +shoulders of some scapegoat--and thereby absolve ourselves. But no one +is really ever absolved from taking part in history. The process of +thinking of history in terms of the past alone, tends to an act of +wish-fulfilment; by it we merely make of history that which we have +already wished history to be. + +In order to correct this error in perspective, we must cease to regard +history as a mere procession of events, and learn to look upon it from +the standpoint of art and religion; these being not only humanity’s +highest and noblest, but also humanity’s ultimate and most completely +absolute values. From this standpoint the record of history is anything +but a record of progress. Rather is it a series of fluctuations; +periods of depression and stagnation alternating with periods of great +hope and activity. That we have struck a period of stagnation to-day +seems only too probable; the last thirty years of the nineteenth, and +the first thirty years of the twentieth century have carried us far +towards thorough-going religious and artistic chaos. But we cannot +redeem that chaos by returning to an order and discipline of the mind +which fitted the more limited intellectual and spiritual interests of +yesterday, as so many of our academic critics would have us do. To +revive humanism or scholasticism is useful, and to be commended as a +valuable antidote to nineteenth century utilitarianism and naturalism; +but all the scholasticism and humanism in the world cannot bring back +the thirteenth century as it was, nor restore us to the fifteenth. We +have to pick our way through the twentieth century degeneration of +values and chaos with but this consideration to console us: that it +was precisely when the values of the ancient world, in Greece, Rome +and Judea, were at their most degraded and chaotic that Christianity +was born. Certainly we no longer look forward to a repetition of that +particular event; but the event towards which the world is at present +tending may be at least of equal significance to man as the dawn of +Christianity. Let us for the moment keep an open mind on the matter. + +Meanwhile, what we have to do is to read history with a fresh +understanding of its symbolic import. To do this we need only +concentrate attention on the values above-mentioned; the values of art +and religion. We are best able in them to study the great cultures of +the world in their symbolic relation to each other. We see in them +how each culture has its own special symbol or set of symbols, that +differentiates it from the whole. This science of comparative and +symbolical history will inevitably lead us to the present day as the +natural terminus of our investigation. Our object in studying history +will become largely the task of sifting out the values of the past from +the rubbish with which the present day has overlaid them. We will see +that the past contains in essence the present, that the present merely +repeats or transforms the past, and that where it fails to do so, it +fails through a lack of understanding of permanent human values. By +studying the essence of the past, we do our utmost towards redeeming +the failures of the present, and directing the forces of the future. +We may even some day become masters of the future, if we set ourselves +resolutely to learn the fate of those forces that have been found +hostile, in past ages, to the movement of life. + + +2 + +About no word of the historian’s vocabulary has there been so much +argument and so little agreement as about the word “civilization.” +There are those who, with Spengler, would take it to denote the final +stage of every great culture; a stage of which the chief features are +overcrowding in great cosmopolitan cities, decline of agriculture, +predominance of finance, prevailing economic crises, and the rule +of dictatorships and mobs; a rapid decline of the fine-arts into +sterile repetition of worn-out patterns and formulas; religion as +a mere question of conventional state worship, not as a creative +popular force; an increasing search for banal pleasures and barren +distractions; a growing economic distress caused by pressure from +below. Others, even more radical than Spengler, would qualify +civilization as a disease, and postulate a return to savagery as its +only possible cure. But even savagery, as we know, is not without +formal culture; and civilization, if we are to use the word at all, +is a development of formal culture. Perhaps the best definition of +civilization is that of Gobineau; “a state of relative stability, in +which multitudes bind themselves to seek peacefully the satisfaction +of their needs, and refine their intelligence and their morals.” +The crucial point of this definition is to be found in the word +“stability.” This stability is achieved by the general adoption of one +system of religion, of one style of art and architecture, of one system +of rule. Its nature is expressed alike in great public monuments, in +details of domestic life, and in the preservation of written records +and calendar-measurements. It is above all, a _state_; fluctuating +according to economic conditions, invasions from without, expansions or +contractions of effort, fresh racial intermixtures. And as such, its +past manifestations display many of the leading characteristics of its +recent manifestations which appear in every newspaper to-day. + +There is no doubt for example that ancient Babylonia and Egypt are, +in comparison with such culture as their neighbours possessed, to be +ranked as civilizations of a high order. Both achieved the state of +stability that Gobineau postulates. And this state had as a basis in +each case, a common geographical and racial element. Both were, above +all, river cultures lying in close proximity to great desert wastes. +Into the Nile valley, as into the flood region of the Euphrates and +the Tigris, came an alien migration of Semitic culture. This Semitic +element, strongly monotheistic in tendency, worked as an influence +towards the final fusion of the local and tribal cults of the +indigenous peoples into a common mythological and ethical structure +which persisted for many centuries. But in each case the result was +entirely different. In Ancient Egypt, the Semitic influence, which +was exerted in successive waves of invasion from a period perhaps +antedating history down to the Hyksos kings, found a very highly +mixed congeries of races: in part dolmen-building pacific Berbers, +in part lightly-skinned and more warlike Lybians, the whole more or +less overlaying totemistic negro tribal confederations. The result +was a civilization of monumental power and splendour, the remains of +which had to wait for the dawn of the nineteenth century before being +investigated, and whose renewed influence on the world at large now +stands at a maximum. The leading characteristics of this civilization +were, first, the universal belief in personal immortality, leading to +a special cult of the tomb; second, the combined cult of the sun-disk +and of vegetation, expressed in the two great official religions of +Amen-ra and Osiris; third, the division of the country into forty +districts or nomes, corresponding probably to ancient tribal divisions, +and the sway exerted over each of these divisions by some entirely +local god, usually of animal form, representing the vestigial cult +of some totemistic deity. The greatness of Egypt rested therefore on +the fusion of two religious ideas of a high order that sprung from +without; the cult of the suffering vegetation-god, with its belief in +immortality, Aryan in essence and mystical in expression, symbolised +in the trinity of Osiris, Isis and Horus; and the sun-cult, highly +rationalistic and warlike, Semitic in essence, symbolised in the disk +and boat of Amen-ra. Both of these rested upon, without disturbing, a +foundation of primitive African totemism. + +The development of the Babylonian belief sprang from an entirely +different source. Here the Semitic invaders found an already rooted +population probably of Mongolian stock, highly cultivated, and the +comparison of the resultant Babylonian-Assyrian culture with the +Egyptian is the comparison of that which is primarily Asiatic with +that which is primarily European. There is a close parallel between +the Babylonian ziggurat with its receding terraces and the great +Asiatic terraced shrines, of which the Altar of Heaven in Pekin is the +latest example; there is even closer parallel between the belief in +elemental spirits, devas, and demons of the Babylonians and the same +thing in the Chinese, Thibetans, and Japanese. There the austere and +not specifically creative imagination of the Semite worked again as a +precipitant, fusing the original non-tribal, non-totemistic diversity +of cult into a pantheon of fixed superior powers. The oldest gods, Ea, +the fish-shaped god of the waters, Anu, the god of the sky, Enlil (Bel +of Nippur), god of the Earth, were left undisturbed; but their cult +became less important than that of the later group, each of whom became +associated with a planet. Sin, the moon-god, Shamash, the sun-god, +Marduk, the conquering war-god of Babylon itself, who became associated +with the planet Jupiter, Nebo, the god of divination, associated +with Mercury, and Ishtar, the goddess of fertility, associated with +the morning and evening star of Venus, were the chief divinities of +developed Babylonian-Assyrian worship. Each of these represents some +supernatural magical force of the heavens, rather than of the earth. +The Babylonian faith paid little attention to personal immortality, +much to obedience to law and custom. Its chief religious documents are +magic incantations, moral precepts, epic tales of the creation and +the destruction of the world. Shamanism, the cultivation of the magic +powers whereby the priesthood strove to become one with the unseen and +invisible world of spiritual influences, was universal in Babylon, and +practically unknown in Egypt, where its place was taken by totemism. +Thus one may say that the Babylonian faith was super-rational, the +Egyptian a sub-rational one. + +These differences are no less climatic than racial. The plain of +Mesopotamia, backed by the barren and terrible desert ranges of Persia +and Armenia, lies at the mercy of the elements. Even the floods of the +Euphrates and Tigris, that bring down the disintegrated loess from +those mountains, and make thereby the rich soil of Mesopotamia, are +uncontrollable torrents, which successive races have vainly tried to +stem by constructing great irrigation and canal systems to obviate +disaster. The climate itself is one of sudden sharp changes: torrential +rains followed by intense heat, icy winds succeeding torrid blasts from +the Persian Gulf. Under such conditions, the type of worship developed +would be naturally that of the elements, regarded as superior powers: +the “host of heaven” of the ancient Chaldees whose imagination so +powerfully influenced the Old Testament. On the other hand, in Egypt +the climate is uniform, the only outward change being the three months +of flood followed by nine months of dry weather. Rain is practically +unknown, and the surrounding deserts are for the most part adequate +defence against invasion. The only danger is in reality internal; +the danger of physical slackness and enervation brought about by +interbreeding in a hot subtropical climate. The importation of fresh +blood from without thus becomes from time to time a necessity to the +Egyptian, as it is a danger of the first order to the Babylonian. +During the course of ancient history from the first dynasty to the +twenty-second, the Egyptians present the spectacle (except for the +period of Amenophis IV) of a political and religious uniformity; in +Babylonia the religious basis alone was uniform; politically the +country was subject to violent and disruptive changes. + + +3 + +To an intelligent European coming to maturity on the threshold of the +sixteenth century, the world must have seemed in a state of crisis +and unrest comparable only to that which it had already gone through +when the power of ancient Rome in the fifth century broke before the +combined assaults of the barbarians. We, looking back on that age from +the standpoint of our equally perplexing modern problems, regard that +time as the culmination of the Renaissance; but to those who lived +in it (if we except a few classical humanists and scholars) it must +have appeared as if the end of the world, expected for many centuries, +was at last at hand. The Middle Ages had passed away, with none of +their hopes realised, or aims achieved. Not only had Christianity +failed in wresting the Holy Sepulchre from the hands of the infidel, +but the infidel himself, in the person of the Turk, had succeeded in +overthrowing the last shadowy power of the Eastern Roman Empire, had +made himself master of Constantinople, and was now threatening Europe. +The trade route with the East that had upheld the glory of Genoa and +Venice was cut off by Turkish galleys; the boundaries of Europe stopped +at the littoral of the Mediterranean and the Adriatic. The old dream of +the Middle Ages, which Dante had been the last to express, of a unified +Holy Roman Empire, sanctified by the blessing of the Vicar of Christ, +to take the place of the warring nationalities which the ancient +Pagan Empire had left behind as wrecks in its wake, had now at last +completely disappeared. France had become a powerful nationality, so +powerful as to be able to invade Italy and dictate terms to the Church. +The German Empire, always at war with its great feudal electors, was +practically bankrupt. England, practical, hard-headed and inclined to +heresy, had but recently settled a long feud between the rival houses +of York and Lancaster, and was rapidly reviving in power under the sway +of the shrewd Tudors. The only power that was not either indifferent or +hostile to the claims of the mediæval faith was that of Spain, and that +lay behind the barrier of the Pyrenees, and was further isolated by +having to struggle with its own domestic Moorish problem. + +Moreover, along with the dream of the Holy Roman Empire, the opposite +dream of making the Pope himself the universal ruler of Europe, had +utterly vanished. The ambitious nobles of Italy were engaged in buying +and selling the most exalted of all Christian offices, with the avowed +aim of making themselves masters over the peninsula. At the present +moment, the Borgia family, by means of wholesale bribery, violence, and +outrage had seized upon the sacred office. One unyielding Dominican, +Savonarola, had condemned them to the utmost from the very centre of +Florence, but he had been silenced. Everywhere the attitude of mind +that had been fundamental to the Middle Ages, that this world was but +an anteroom and preparation for something far more important, eternal +bliss or eternal damnation, was fading away. God had given the world to +men; it was for them to enjoy it. + +Meantime, an enormous rift was about to appear on the face of European +Christianity itself. The whole structure of the Christian faith whose +foundations, soaked in the blood of martyrs, lay underneath the debris +of the Roman Empire itself, and whose mighty walls had been guided +upward by the great monastic effort of the ninth, tenth, and eleventh +centuries; this whole structure which had burst forth into springing +magnificence of vaults and pinnacles under the great popular Gothic +awakening of the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries, now +displayed a tiny rift at the summit. Within fifty years from the +coming of the sixteenth century, everything lay in ruin. In the north +the altars were stripped, the monasteries despoiled or destroyed, the +vernacular psalms and the Bible took the place of the liturgy. In the +south, the basilica of St. Peter, the most sacred shrine of mediæval +Christianity itself, fell, to be replaced by a pompous shrine dedicated +to the temporal splendour of that papacy that could no longer command +obedience over half of Europe. The sombre prophecies of the Apocalypse +seemed about to be fulfilled. The “abomination of desolation” stood in +the holy place; or rather, there was no more a holy place that was not +already become an abomination of desolation. Thanks to the invention +of printing, the wary ambition of pushful princes, and the steady +uprise of the merchant-classes to positions of rank and power, Mammon +was gaining more adherents every day in his long battle with God. +Savonarola had already called in question the authority of the Pope, an +example which innumerable Protestants were soon to follow. + +Into this tortured, desperate, final scene of the mediæval world, +in which the power that had directed the Middle Ages, the power of +mystic, legendary Christianity was seeking fanatically for destruction +in the embrace of death, while a newer more terrible Mars and Venus +uprose from the past to dispute about the new-born Renaissance, +there suddenly came the rumour of two tiny and inconspicuous events +somewhere in the unknown territory that lay beyond the boundaries of +men’s maps and minds. Three ships guided by an obscure Genoese pilot +and a shrewd Spanish navigator, had gone out into the Atlantic to look +for an island called Antillia which was rumored to exist somewhere +westward of the Canaries; two of them had returned, having apparently +not discovered this island, but with the knowledge of having sailed +far beyond, stumbling apparently upon the further Indies, which no one +had seen or heard of since Marco Polo had been there far back in the +thirteenth century. And twenty years earlier, in 1472, an embassy from +Ivan III, the quasi-independent ruler of a territory called Muscovy +which lay somewhere beyond the forests and swamps of Poland, and about +which nobody knew anything except that it was presumably of the Greek +Orthodox faith, but had paid tribute to Tartar infidels for untold +centuries, suddenly turned up in Rome and demanded the hand of Zoë, +niece of the last Christian ruler of Constantinople, from the Pope, +who had taken her under his protection. At this time the council of +Florence was sitting, debating whether the Eastern and the Western +Churches could not be re-united in view of the fact that the Turk had +taken Constantinople and was threatening Europe itself. It was naïvely +supposed that to marry Zoë to this Eastern schismatic would further +this object. So Zoë was sent on her long journey to Moscow, with a +Latin prelate, Cardinal Antonio, for a guide, to discuss the question +of the re-union of the Churches. In the upshot, Zoë married Ivan, +but there was no re-union, and Cardinal Antonio returned to Italy in +discomfiture. From these two insignificant events--both, be it noted, +engineered and pushed forward by Italians--we chart the entire course +of what is known as modern world-history. + + +4 + +The difference between ancient, mediæval, and modern history is only +a difference of degree, not of kind. Human beings, and what is still +more, human experiences, have been essentially the same in all ages; +and it is not the least of our romantic errors of adolescence to +think of the Greeks or the Elizabethans as beings belonging to an +entirely different species from the men we every day see about us. +The differences between one type of man and another are everywhere +differences in spiritual perception; and this has been always a +question of a few exceptionally favoured individuals as against a +commonplace and indistinguishable mob. It must be admitted, however, +that Christianity did much to heighten the spiritual perception even +of the multitude; historically Christianity enlarged the bonds of +the spiritual by taking in more of the actual. Before Christianity, +the gods were terrible powers to be placated, and human life had no +relation to their life. The gift Christianity gave to the world was +a dim and vague, but vast, notion that the roots of the physical +and the spiritual lay closely together, insofar as God had already +become Man for man’s sake. This perception, that perfection lay in +and through Christ, culminated in the great spiritual climax of the +Christian drama, the thirteenth century. After that period there was +rapid and sure decline. There was not again to be the birth of another +saviour through a Virgin, nor did the figure that the cathedrals had +dimly foreseen as standing before their altars, the figure of the +king-bishop, tiaraed with the three crowns of earth, purgatory, and +heaven, and belted with the sword of justice, take shape in actual +flesh. Instead of the bells and incense that were to usher in the Holy +Grail procession, there arose the charnel-vault order of corruption, +and the clank of bones beneath the armour of the knight; instead of +the bridal song of the Lamb and the Church, Gothic arches resounded +with the mocking psalmody of the _Dies Irae_ and the Dance of Death. +Slowly but with irresistible power, men turned away from the Uprisen +Judge that they had fancied would again come to judge the World; and +in Italy, parent of civilizations, the Popes themselves began with the +aid of Mars and Venus to dream of refounding Rome. In the jewelled +crucifix that hung about the neck of Alexander VI was set an antique +cameo, representing a nude Venus. Thus the old gods returned, not to +be worshipped as material, but as spiritual powers. A few men here and +there babbled strange news of new-found Indies, and remote Muscovy. +These were perhaps the terrestrial paradise; the new heaven and earth +proclaimed by the Evangelist. + +If we turn from the scene of the sixteenth century to the middle of +the eighteenth, we find that the entire structure of Christian Europe +is changed. The rift that was to shatter the whole work of the Middle +Ages has developed, leaving Europe half Catholic, half Protestant. In +each case, a full century of fanaticism has burned through, leaving +rationalistic aches, tolerant scepticisms, polite lip-service to +formula, or naked barbarism and desperation. The power of Ancient Rome +has not been reborn in the person of the Pope; he may be pontifex, but +not beyond the states of the Church itself. The true ruler of European +mankind is now a periwigged, middle-aged Pallas, who has set aside her +shield and helmet and is busy attempting chemical experiments, doing +the grand tour, building baroque churches, and writing fugues and +chamber-music. Meanwhile beyond the borders of Europe are barbarians +with other gods: to the East the incalculable force of great Muscovy, +sated with the blood of Sweden and Poland; to the West, the equally +incalculable wilderness of the American Continent swallowing up hosts +of migrating English, French and Spaniards. In them men will inevitably +find again the spiritual symbols transformed and enlarged, whose +ancient manifestations still sleep underground in the valley of the +Nile and the Tigris. In them will re-awaken to rule over the earth the +spiritual flame of Egypt and Assyria. + +Thus at the outset of our enterprise, to attach to our side all those +who are willing to use their imaginations in the study of man, and to +frighten away those who have no imagination and no need to use it for +anything, we inevitably set a myth to take the place of human history. +And indeed, could we in any case do better? What are the Greeks to +us to-day but the myths of Prometheus, of the warfare between the +Olympians and the Titans, of the Argonauts, and the fatal struggle +around Troy? All the meaning of Hellas--perhaps the whole course of +Hellenic history--is contained in these stories. What are the Romans +but the story of the Sabine Women, of the geese of the Capitol, of the +death of Regulus, of Horatius at the bridge? What is India but the +great chaotic conflict between gods and men set out in the Ramayana? +History is not alone the parroting of meaningless dates and facts, a +mere branch of ethnology or economics, or the study of picturesque and +powerful personalities. When all these are assimilated and done with, +history emerges as a series of symbols each infused with profound +spiritual meaning. It is through myth alone that man finds guidance in +his weary march through the vale of despair and the heights of glory. +Some day someone will write the great myth of our modern world: the +story of man striving to tame the machine he has invented: some day +there may even be recorded the myth of the entire planet we inhabit. +Let it, like the myth we are about to spin, find rest at last in the +archives of some superhuman and undying memory. + + + + +Chapter II + + +The influence of geographical situation and of climate on human culture +is a subject so vast and profound that only the combined industry and +genius of a Humboldt or an Elie Reclus could possibly ever exhaust +it. And even a perception of the fact that man everywhere responds +to his environment, reflects his environment, adapts himself to and, +in the end, identifies himself completely with his environment, does +not account for all the profound racial differences between man and +man. Setting these differences apart, we may nevertheless say that all +human cultures derive from five recognizable types: river culture, +largely pacific and agricultural; desert culture, largely nomadic and +warlike; mountain culture, largely fluctuating between mysticism and +realism, alternately conservative and adventurous; tropical-swamp +culture, largely theocratic, conservative and defensive; and marine +culture, largely democratic, inventive and adaptable. The best example +of the first class is ancient China; of the second, the Persians or +the Arabs; of the third, the Greeks, Etruscans and early Romans; of +the fourth, the Hindus, Cambodians, Aztecs and Mayas; of the fifth the +Cretans, Phœnicians and English. + +A glance at the map will show that the nature of the North American +continent, as of Russia, was such as to insure that any culture either +country achieved was destined to be largely of the river type. The +central portion of the United States is occupied by the immense river +system of the Mississippi and its tributaries. This system flows +through immense plains, and its lower reaches are consequently subject +to frequent and damaging floods, forming an immense delta of two +hundred and fifty miles of intensely fertile black soil. To eastward +the region of the Appalachians and of the Blue Ridge is heavily +forested and of much poorer soil, but beyond these again, in the +Atlantic seaboard, is a series of rivers, running generally southward +and eastward, with good harbours at their mouths, and generally highly +fertile in their lower reaches, though less subject to floods. The +interior of the country, it is true, was not settled until after the +winning of independence at the close of the eighteenth century; but +the whole political development of the Colonies was an advance towards +the type of government that was most suitable to the environment +later found and assimilated in the Ohio, Tennessee, Mississippi, and +Missouri regions: a preponderantly agricultural community, intensely +suspicious of outside interference, deeply rooted in family sentiment +and respect for the soil, narrowly conservative in outlook and largely +ruled by primitive moral precept. Westward of the Mississippi stretches +the open prairie region tending to break down this life into the more +undeveloped forms of pure nomadism. + +The purest example of such a culture is, as has already been pointed +out, the civilization of China. If we examine the moral and religious +basis of ancient Chinese life, we find that everything is made to +centre about the perpetuation of family life, and the maintenance of +the fertility of the soil. All outward forms, from the ritual spring +ploughing that the Emperor himself performed annually at the Temple +of Agriculture in Pekin, to the precepts of Confucius, derive from +the one prevailing desire to ensure an unchanging round of harvests +with the least disturbance of outward conditions. Such a people +is not predominantly warlike, and is better for defence than for +conquest. They are better qualified to display the firm qualities, +great endurance, immense solidarity, and a uniformity of style, than +the feats of daring and mental adaptability displayed by mountain and +marine peoples. In contrast with desert or tropical-swamp peoples, +their mythology is undeveloped, their religious ardour halts at the +frontiers of an ethical positivism. + +In contrast with the map of North America, the map of Russia shows +even more clearly the characteristics of a featureless forest, an +unmarked plain. Yet a glance at this map will show that here too, +the development of culture has depended on the existence of great +river systems. The Volga with its tributaries, the Oka, the Dnieper, +the Western Dvina all have their headwaters within a few miles of +each other, and all radiate from a common centre, where the black +soil belt of central Russia, intensely favourable to agriculture, +meets the forest belt of the north. The position of these rivers, and +the direction in which they flowed, fixed inevitably the centre of +the Ancient Russian commonwealth. The Volga and the Oka communicate +with the Caspian; the Dnieper and its eastward neighbour, the Don, +with the Black Sea; the Dvina, and its tributaries, the Lovat and +the Volckov, flow into the Baltic. In the early Middle Ages this +became naturally the great trade route between Persia and the Eastern +Roman Empire, and the Hansa settlements, as well as the Scandinavian +peoples. Its Scandinavian Viking origin is shown by the Varangian +establishment of Kiev as the capital, back in the ninth century, with +Novgorod and Smolensk as outlying centres; unfortunately the political +unity that the converted Viking invaders were able to impose upon +the timid, conservative, and heathen Slavonic masses, was dependent +upon their ability to wage incessant war upon swarms of barbarians +from farther east. From the Pechenegs in 862, down to the Polovtsy +in 1238, the ancient Russian culture lay at the mercy of perpetual +Tartar invasion from the desert plains of Central Asia: Kiev finally +fell in 1238, and the insignificant independent principality of Moscow +more northward only survived by its comparative difficulty of access +and by the payment of a great tribute to the Tartar Khans. The first +ruler of Muscovy who began to win out in the long struggle with the +Tartars, a struggle which left the Russian people profoundly modified +ethnologically in the direction of a Mongolian type, was precisely Ivan +III, whom we have already seen sending to Rome to obtain the hand of +the niece of the last Eastern Emperor; with his reign we begin Modern +Russia which profoundly differs from, though it is the resultant of +the physical and racial forces that shaped mediæval Russia. Here +too we have a settled agricultural people, clinging to great river +systems, apprehensive of foreign invasion, intensely conservative, +strongly patriarchal, and primitively religious. The chief difference +between these people and the first Anglo-Saxon settlers of America +was psychological. In the case of the American colonies, social +and political unity depended on each individual’s attitude to his +neighbour; in the case of Russia, threatened on all sides with +invasion, it depended on the purely military and arbitrary power +exercised by a personal sovereign, the prince of Moscow. + + +2 + +The English-speaking colonies of America are generally supposed to +have asserted their complete independence in 1776 and to have won it +in 1783, when the fact is that they were completely independent almost +from the beginning. In theory and in theory only, they were begun as +an extension of royal property to the new-found continent. The Tudor +sovereigns were as highly imbued with the idea of the divine right of +kings as any other European sovereign of the time; their ideas on this +subject were not different from the ideas of their enemy, Philip II +of Spain. It will be remembered that the Spanish had pushed forward +their conquests and settlements on the principle that the money raised +to undertake them should be provided by the adventurers themselves; +except in the case of Columbus, the crown itself was not financially +interested in the exploits of the conquistadores of Mexico or Peru. But +once the country was won, one-fifth of the revenue had to go to the +crown. The Tudor plan was not very different. King James merely granted +permission to explore and settle to the Virginia Company, which itself +raised the funds; how much of the profits of the enterprise would +return to him was left open. The profit was expected to accrue from the +discovery of gold mines, or the exploration of a new trade route to the +East Indies. + +The experience of the Virginia Company is particularly interesting in +this connection. After five years of struggle and the expenditure of a +great deal of money, it was found that the country contained nothing +of value as regards mines, and could only be a source of revenue if +developed agriculturally. Thereupon in 1612, King James gave way and +permitted each settler henceforward to take out an assignment of land. +The result was that the Virginia Company henceforward would at last be +able to assimilate profits, not on the basis of prospective mineral +discovery, but on the basis of exchange of commodities between the +old world and the new. But in order to keep the colony prosperous, it +was necessary to put its government in the hands of those who best +understood and were able to cope with the novel conditions. Therefore +some measure of self-government was permitted. Apart from the royal +governor and six councillors appointed by the Company, a popular +assembly was called together composed of two representatives elected by +each town, hundred, or plantation. Laws passed by this assembly could +be vetoed in England; but such a veto on the part of the King would +lead to the passive but unalterable resistance which is well known to +all students of early agricultural communities. For a few years after +1612, King James did not dare to interfere, and the Virginia Company +prospered by raising tobacco. Then, thanks to the whispers of sedition +within the colony that were carried to his ears, as well as the +protests of the Spanish Ambassador, who became more and more annoyed +at the English establishing themselves in nominally Spanish territory, +James decided to interfere. In 1624 he dissolved the Virginia Company, +and the colony again became crown property. But he died the next year, +without interfering with the popular assembly, which continued under +his successor. Had this popular assembly not existed, Virginia would +have probably become de-populated. The same type of popular assembly +was formed by the other colonies, after the example of Virginia, and +the history of the thirteen colonies up to the time of the Revolution +is a story of the struggles between the colonists themselves and +their royal governors; a struggle which culminated only with complete +independence. + +The American colonies were not able to live and grow at all without +this local self-government on the democratic model, to build roads, put +up meeting-houses, make schools, fight the Indians, and impose tariffs +and taxes on their own products. It will be remembered that in 1623, +just before attempting to crush the Virginia Company altogether, King +James had been persuaded, after a long struggle with popular opinion, +to grant a monopoly on all tobacco brought to England to the Virginia +settlers. This monopoly, long agitated for, and supported by the +whole force of the powerful popular faction in the Virginia Company +itself, which had already sunk some two hundred thousand pounds in the +development of the new country, led to extravagant hopes on the part +of the London merchants who had supported the Virginia enterprise from +the beginning, of obtaining a great return from their investment. The +corresponding downfall of the company, and the reassertion of royal +authority, worked as a rapid cause of disillusionment with the power of +the crown, and largely contributed to the popular revolution against +the Stuarts which broke out in 1640. + +The New England colonies, even more than Virginia, began as settlements +which had obtained nothing but a tacit permission to leave the country +from the English crown. Massachusetts, the first of them, owed its +being to the activities of certain English separatists, who finding +no religious liberty in England itself, first went to Holland, and +after six years, finally decided to cross the ocean to a spot where +they would be entirely free from outside interference. To these +Plymouth settlers, there were added in 1630 a great body of Puritans +who nominally were members of the Church of England but in reality +in complete revolt against Archbishop Laud, whose avowed aim was the +destruction of the Low-Church party. The refusal of these numerically +preponderant settlers to admit anyone to citizenship except members of +their own particular communion led to the settlement, by the dissenting +elements, of Rhode Island, and to the establishment of Connecticut, +neither of which had any support from the English Crown and both of +which were rooted in popular government. Meantime between these and +the colonies of Virginia and Maryland (which again had been formed by +religious refugees on a basis of tolerance) to the south, stood New +Amsterdam, which the Dutch had organised on the old feudal system of +making each great landholder responsible for the life and death of +his tenants. The Dutch experiment was a painful failure and became +assimilated into the other English settlements after 1664. + +Thus, the development of the American seaboard colonies under English +auspices led to the creation of a number of practically independent +republics, differing widely in their views as to the relation between +politics and religion, owning a nominal sovereignty to the English +Crown, but in reality highly suspicious and intolerant of outside +interference, determined to support themselves with as little help from +others as possible and altogether transforming themselves from being +mere frontier trading posts to self-supporting but rival commonwealths. +They were separated from each other by the fact that they had been +originally planted near the mouths of navigable bays and rivers: the +Chesapeake, the Delaware, the Hudson, the Charles. The intervening +territory was still the no-man’s land of the Indian. The fact that the +Indian had to be pushed off the land before it could be settled, and +the fact that the Indian always resisted, gave the American colonies +their only solidarity. This is shown by the New England Confederation +of 1643 which came into being as a result of the Pequot War, and +the general fear of a league of Indians to drive out the whites. It +comprised the settlements of Massachusetts, Plymouth, Connecticut, and +New Haven. + +The conditions in the interior were such as to make it certain that +only the English idea of gradually pushing the Indians westward by +means of a fringe of settlements could in any way prevail. The +Spaniards in the south and southwest had deliberately come into the +country only in order to exploit it; their interest was solely in +finding El Dorado, and only a few devoted missionaries among them +took any interest in the conditions of the Indian tribes, or tried +to promote agricultural settlement. The fact that the Spanish cared +nothing for anything but ostentation and conquest gave a superficial +veneer of European civilization to their chief centres of settlement, +but left the wilderness practically untouched between them. In fact, +the Spanish attitude of complete exploitation helped in the long run +the Indian cause, because the Spanish conquerors did not scruple +to mingle their blood with that of the Indian captives with the +result that a mixed race soon uprose, largely Indian in outlook, and +ferociously independent, which was destined later to give endless +trouble to the Spaniards themselves as to the people of the United +States. And as the white race pushed westward, and the evidences +of mineral wealth increased, while the prospective returns from +agriculture correspondingly diminished, something of the Spanish +attitude was naturally assimilated by the Anglo-Saxon pioneer stock, +with the result that the Spanish philosophy of reckless daring and +lazy indifference became the basis of the cowboy and “bad man” +type of the far West. The French had scarcely done better; except +for a few settlements of fisherfolk in Canada, they had contented +themselves with building a chain of trading posts about the Great +Lakes and the chief tributaries of the Mississippi, and had become +a breed of trappers and fur-traders. They too had no race prejudice +against intermingling their blood with the Indians. Thus, the idea of +the English invaders to conquer by means of complete settlement and +assimilation of the land to the forms of English culture was inevitably +the only path by which the land could become permanently what is known +in America as “a white man’s country”; but even in their case, as it +happened, something of the Indian outlook and social system inevitably +entered and modified the English colonial forms of life. This was +due to religious as well as economic differences. The middle-class, +mercantile, dissenting fanaticism of New England instinctively despised +the planter aristocracy, strongly episcopalian and conservative, of +Virginia and the Carolinas; the planter aristocracy equally hated the +pioneer squatter type that developed in the valleys beyond the Blue +Ridge; and this division of sentiment between the various sections of +the community was destined to run like a discordant thread throughout +the warp and woof of all later American life. It corresponded +roughly to the long-standing tribal antagonisms of the dispossessed +Indian tribes. Nor was this all. The investigations of American +anthropologists have conclusively shown that the children of European +immigrants, born in America, tend to take Indian characteristics, a +taller stature and a more powerful physical development than their +parents. Most notably is this the case in the change of head form. The +Indian head with its high cheek-bones, heavy jaw, sloping forehead, and +great development of the back and base of the skull, recurs, according +to Professor Franz Boas, even in the children of immigrants who have +only lived for a few months in America. So great is the influence of +climate, and perhaps also of diet, upon the naturally conservative, +slow-changing Anglo-Saxon. Moreover in the settling of America, the +Celtic side of the English genius strongly manifested itself; and a +considerable portion of the population, in the Southern colonies at +least, were Celtic in type and in sympathy. The Germanic tradition of +the town-meeting and the local assembly was curiously crossed with the +Scots-Irish tradition of the family feud and the local uprising. + +We have now to compare this growth of the American settlements with +the growth of the Egyptian social system, as set out in our first +chapter. In the loose confederation of the geographically separate +colonies, we have a parallel to the division of the Egyptian territory +into separate nomes, under the sway of different tribes. In the +rivalry between Upper and Lower Egypt, we have a rivalry akin to the +rivalry between the Northern and the Southern colonies. In the shrewd +practical pragmatic realism of the American frontiersmen, we have +something that recalls the lack of space-feeling, the pastoral and +agricultural conventions that inform Egyptian art. Even in the respect +that the American colonies were to show for the royal charter, the +legal document, the written word, we have much that recalls to mind +the superstitious respect with which all the Egyptians regarded their +hieroglyphic writing. Only a Pharaoh is needed to complete the picture, +but the American colonies could not produce a Pharaoh, nor a priestly +cult to support him; because instead of the single valley of the Nile, +they were pushing up twenty great rivers; instead of a single dominant +religion, they had a dozen different ones to choose from. + + +3 + +As we have already seen, Ivan III, who became the independent ruler +of Moscow in 1462, and in 1472 married Zoë (who later took the name +of Sophia), the niece of the last Christian ruler of Constantinople, +was the first sovereign of Russia whose power became so important as +to make some impression on the course of Western European History. He +was the first to take the title of Sovereign of All Russia, and Czar, +and his reign lasting down to 1505 is the record of his struggle to +make that title good. In order to do so, he first had to deal with +the Golden Horde of the heathen Tartars, encamped for three centuries +on the lower Volga; but this power, which had continually kept Russia +in subjection, was now breaking up of itself, thanks to internal +dissensions about succession with the Tartars of the Crimea. Ivan’s +chief enemies lay in fact to the westward, in the great military and +feudal powers of Poland and Lithuania. + +These two powers had acted largely together ever since 1386. In each +case the country was ruled by an independent sovereign, supported by +great feudal nobles. These nobles, whether as bishops, barons whose +castles commanded the trade-routes, landowners commanding the loyalty +of hundreds of serfs, were one and all jealous of any independent +action on the part of the king. And inasmuch as the sovereign in each +country depended entirely on their support in the case of war, and +the Tartar menace no less affected the security of Lithuania and of +Poland than that of Russia, the stability of both countries depended +on the continued loyalty and bravery, and the lack of inner causes of +friction, among the gentry themselves. This gentry, the _szlachta_, +was world-famous for its pride and fighting spirit. During the +centuries that followed the downfall of the old principality of Kiev +in 1226, the Lithuanian knights, backed by Poland, had absorbed the +richest and most fertile portion of Russia, the plain of the Dnieper, +including Smolensk and Kiev itself. To the north lay two independent +mercantile commonwealths, important centres of trade between the Urals +to eastward, and the Hansa towns of the Baltic to westward: Novgorod +and Pskov. These were ruled by their own town councils of nobles, or +boyars; they were more disposed to be friendly to Poland or Lithuania +than to Moscow. Against them no less than these two usurping powers, +Ivan III and his successor Basil III who died in 1533, had to make +war, in order to recover that which he regarded as his lost patrimony: +Russia itself. + +The process that these princes inaugurated was completed by the +accession to the throne of Ivan III’s grandson in 1533, the most +extraordinary and tragic of all Russian rulers, known to later history +as Ivan the Terrible. During his long reign of forty-nine years the +whole system of complete autocratic government, resting ultimately on +the will of the Czar alone, that ruled Russia outwardly and inwardly +down to the advent of the Bolsheviks to power in 1917, came into +existence. When he came to the throne, his predecessors had already won +back the Dnieper territory as far as Smolensk from Lithuania, but this +was not enough. If the principality of Moscow, which now stretched from +the Black Sea to the shores of the Gulf of Finland, and to the Urals, +was to develop into a power capable of imposing its will on Europe, +it must have access to the Baltic. The mineral wealth of the Urals, +the sturgeon from the lower Volga, the furs and hides of the forest +belt, were in as great demand now by Sweden and the Hansa Confederacy +as the ancient products of Constantinople and the Levant that had +penetrated through the same territory in the Middle Ages had been. +Unfortunately the outlet to the Baltic lay through Livonia which was +Polish territory; and Poland and the Hansa knights, their allies, were +not disposed to let the Moscow Czars have sole control over this trade +route. Under Ivan IV, the attention of Muscovy turned from Lithuania to +Poland, and later to Sweden, which held Esthonia, the other outlet to +the Baltic, and a struggle ensued which went on till 1582, ending in a +complete check to the ambitions of the Moscow rulers. The outlet to the +Baltic Sea and accordingly to a position where Russia could treat with +the powers of Europe, as an independent equal, was not to be granted +for a full century. Meantime, during this same reign, the Crimean +Tartars who had succeeded the Golden Horde, and who had been friendly +enough to support Ivan IV’s predecessor in his Lithuanian wars, became +again hostile and turned to close alliance with the dreaded Turks who +had effectively closed the Black Sea outlet. As late as 1574, Moscow +itself was raided and burned by a force of 120,000, who took away over +a hundred thousand captives. Although the Muscovy Czars now controlled +the whole resources of the country from the frontier of Siberia to the +Polish plain, they were powerless until by establishing sea-contact +with Europe, they could obtain in exchange for their fish, furs and +minerals, weapons, munitions, and an army on the European model to +combat their enemies to the south and east. + +This necessity for finding an outlet to the sea controlled all +of Russia’s later historical policy, as the necessity of warding +off interference from overseas controlled the whole policy of the +dawning American colonies. The necessity in each case was dictated +by geographical situation, no less than by sociological conditions. +A glance at the map will show that Russia is, strictly speaking, a +country without a coastline, whose three outlets to the Ocean, through +the Baltic, the Black Sea, and the White Sea, lie always at the mercy +either of hostile powers or of the elements. On the other hand, America +lies completely open on the Atlantic seaboard. There is entry through +a score of open rivers and bays, and the ocean-path being the way by +which settlement was made and maintained, it is easy to see how much +the colonists (who were in continual conflict with the English crown +over their scarcely won and jealously guarded liberties) longed to be +able to close the way of access behind them; or only keep it open for +those who would agree with their semi-agricultural, semi-nomad spirit +of independence. But if we turn from this picture to the map of Russia, +it is equally easy to see how, if the whole power of Muscovy was not +to fall apart, and the country to revert to being in part a conquest +of hostile Poland, in part a mere nomad dependency of Tartary, it was +necessary to keep a sea-route open for the marketing of Muscovy’s +products, and also necessary to enlist all the European aid possible +in improving the general backwardness of the country. So as early as +1547 we find Ivan the Terrible sending the Saxon Schlitte as emissary +to Europe to obtain artisans and scholars; many of the churches of +Moscow itself were the work of Italian architects; and the history of +Ivan’s later negotiations with England for a commercial treaty (which +as he said “weighed heavier on him than tribute”) and even for a bride, +in the person of one of Elizabeth’s maids of honour, is well known. +In order to maintain an insecure position between the two dangers of +the Tartar Caspian and the Teutonic Baltic, the autocratic ruler of +Muscovy had to call in the aid of Western Europe--and with it, the +subversive radicalism that Western Europe was to later develop. In +order to maintain their own insecure position between the danger of an +Indian Confederation to westward, and the danger of Crown interference +from overseas, the independently spirited colonists had to sink their +own radical differences of outlook and religion and become artificially +centralised about the most powerful classes in the community which +were the merchants and landowners. Thus the two countries, so much +akin in climate and physical features, and even in the highly mixed +nomad population that inhabited them--not to mention the perhaps common +Mongolian parentage of the underlying Tartar and Indian--early took the +path of polar opposition in temperament. The one became more and more +autocratic and despotic as the other became more and more democratic +and egalitarian. In the one, the outlying districts were always +swayed by a centralised power; but as this power depended on military +conquest, loot and tribute for its maintenance, it was in continual +danger of collapse. In the other, the separate colonies formed a loose +confederation that would be likely to collapse of itself from without +if it could not find a centre. + +Here in this opposition of social organisation we find what in +Russia chiefly recalls Ancient Babylonia. Older than Egypt--for +recent archæological researches into the Sumerian civilisation +have left no doubt on that point--Babylonia was at first ruled by +independent city-dynasties, as was Russia during the Varangian period. +It only achieved unity under the dominance of a single city, which +geographically stood at its centre, and whose local god-cult was made, +probably under military pressure, the official state religion. Here we +have a parallel to the position of Moscow and to the development of the +official Russian church under Ivan the Terrible. This unity could only +be maintained so long as the central sovereign was a man of powerful +and strong personality: a Hammurabi or a Sargon. This condition also +obtained in Russia, as anyone can see by consulting the next chapter +of this book. The only thing in short lacking to this parallel is that +Babylonia-Assyria achieved its own symbolic mythology, a symbolic +mythology of great importance to the development of the Hebrews, and +consequently of Christianity; while early Muscovy, and the later +Russian Empire, only borrowed the essential basis of theirs from the +already formulated system of Eastern Christianity. But this failure of +the central intelligence of the Slav to distinguish independently the +immediate needs of his own temporal destiny from the limitless drift of +eternity, is characteristic; its psychological implications run like a +red thread throughout the entire course of later Russian history. + + + + +Chapter III + + +The English-speaking American colonies developed in comparative peace +and tranquillity, except for Indian wars on the frontier, internal +religious quarrels, and difficulties with their own harvests down to +the close of the Puritan Revolution in England and the accession of +Charles II in 1660. During the whole reign of Charles I, and later +under Cromwell, the internal difficulties of the English State were so +great, that no further attempts were made to interfere with the gradual +growth of the colonies, or to check the spread of self-government. +During the same period, Russia passed through its first and most +terrible internal crisis; a crisis always to be known later as “the +time of troubles,” and which was destined to fix immutably the +political foundations of the country as an independent state. + +The aim of Ivan the Terrible was, as we have seen, to throw off +the grip that Poland and Sweden held on the Baltic; and to destroy +the power of Lithuania, which still, in alliance with a band of +freebooters, the Zaporogian Cossacks, held fast to the outlets of the +Dnieper in the Black Sea. There was also danger from the Tartars of the +Crimea, which must be reckoned with. Russia was therefore committed +to war on three of four sides; only on the side of Siberia could +Moscow’s sway be carried peacefully beyond the Urals. Ivan, as we have +seen, was checked in his ambitions to free the shores of the Baltic, +though he won notable victories in the Crimea, opening up the Caspian, +and overrunning a great deal of Siberia. But his chief troubles were +internal, and sprang from the feudal organization which had hitherto +supported the Princes of Muscovy on their thrones. + +The chief powers, next to the Czar himself, were the great landowning +nobles, the boyars. It was this class alone that could vote taxes, +support campaigns with their serfs, send their sons to take part in +the state service. It was this class that now began to behave as the +corresponding class had done centuries before them in Western Europe. +They more and more attempted to put a check upon the power that was +falling into Ivan’s hands. The Czar of Muscovy had, unfortunately, no +middle class or merchant class to fall back upon, and so was forced +either to trust the boyars or no one. The example of Poland was always +before Ivan’s eyes. That warlike and once powerful kingdom was +continually sinking into anarchy and impotence, thanks to the greed and +independence of its gentry. After every reign there had followed an +interregnum, and the kingship was so shorn of power that it practically +had none left except that of punishing criminals, and making war. +Several of Ivan’s leading nobles, suspicious of his growing autocracy, +were now tempted into leaning towards Poland; and many of the former +independent cities, notably Novgorod, were going in the same way. The +fruits of freedom were becoming tempting to the Russians now that they +had lost them. In this situation Ivan struck, and struck hard with such +effect that his reign was ever after remembered as a time of terror. +He established a secret police, chosen and paid by him personally, who +were sworn to support the Czar at the cost of their lives, and by this +means, systematically destroyed all the boyars who showed signs of +independence. Tortures, murders, spyings, assassinations were the order +of the day. Even the Metropolitan of the Orthodox Church, venerated in +Russia as no man, protested against the régime of terror that Ivan set +up, but paid for his protest with his life. + +Unfortunately, Ivan’s system proved workable only so long as there +was a strong and ruthlessly determined man at the head of affairs to +control it. As he left no successor, the leading boyars at his death +decided to offer the control of affairs to one of their number, Boris +Godunov. Boris was undoubtedly as suspicious of their power as Ivan had +been, but utterly unable to do without it, and so the country rapidly +fell into a condition of internal revolt directed and engineered from +Poland. During the period of utter anarchy that followed, Poland +might have acquired complete control over Russian affairs, had it not +been for internal jealousies among the boyars themselves, and for the +attitude of the Orthodox Church, which obscurely sensed and supported +the popular demand for a Russian Czar, born in Russia. After Polish +forces had vainly besieged the Kremlin itself, after Swedish troops had +been called in to restore order, after the country had been overrun by +looting bands of Don Cossacks from one end to the other, in 1613 there +came at last peace. The boyars sank their differences sufficiently +to elect Michael Romanov to the throne, and the influence of Poland, +always hated and loathed by the Russians, came to an end. + +During these years, and increasingly under the first years of the +new Romanov dynasty, the chief social phenomenon in Russia was the +growth of serfdom. Serfdom had always existed, undisturbed from the +Middle Ages, on the estates of the great landowners. These estates +were continually increasing, as Ivan himself followed the policy of +making enormous grants of crown land and peasants to the gentry he +favoured. But as the country expanded and pushed its way over the +Urals to Siberia, and into the Crimea to the Caspian, it became common +for serfs to seek relief from intolerable conditions and burdens by +escaping eastwards into freedom. This process became chronic throughout +“the time of troubles.” Instead of fighting for some of the numberless +pretenders of the time, or waiting to be ravaged by the Cossacks, the +serfs simply abandoned their estates and went off to the frontier. +Every Czar during “the time of troubles” attempted to deal with this +problem. Strong decrees forbade the transfer of serfs from any of the +estates of the Church, the Crown, or the Service gentry. Still stronger +decrees made flight a criminal offence to be punished by lashing and +branding; at first five years were given as a time-limit during which +runaways could be hunted out, then ten, finally in 1646 the time-limit +was abolished, and any fugitive became an outlaw. Meantime the practice +of selling peasants apart from the estate, simply went on despite the +law against it, and had finally to be legalised in 1675. The peasant +had no power of redress, being forbidden to bring any complaint against +his master except that of state treason; the master could beat him, +starve him, force him to work like a dog for the state taxes, which +were continually increasing, and he must still submit. The process was +not the same as slavery, but was clearly even more cruel in its effects +than slavery. A bad crop, an epidemic, or an outbreak of trouble +among the rebellious Cossacks of the Southeast frontier was enough to +literally ruin thousands of peasants. And since the peasant could not +fly without becoming an outlaw, the subsequent history of Russia down +to the nineteenth century is punctuated with constant and perpetual +serf rebellions and peasant risings. + +The Russian government system of degrading its own independent +peasantry down to the level of chattel slaves, was closely paralleled +by the gradual growth of a dependent slave class within the nominally +free American colonies. Negro slaves were brought into the Virginia +Colony as early as 1619. Without their aid it is probable that the +great tobacco plantations could not have been run at a profit. But the +rapid extension of territory which tobacco-planting entailed led to +the first outbreak of revolutionary class war in America in 1676. The +occasion was an outbreak of trouble with the Indians on the northern +frontier, which by that time had reached the Potomac. A rising of the +Susquehannahs led to a demand on the part of the colonists for an armed +force to destroy the Indians. The Governor, Berkeley, refused and +proposed to build forts. But the colonists under Nathaniel Bacon simply +refused to obey; and this struggle soon became a conflict between the +old conservative and royalist landowning gentry and the newly arrived +poorer settlers of the frontier. It was quelled; but over-production +of tobacco in the years that followed led to much burning of tobacco, +and a gradual transformation of Virginia, the most English in spirit +of all the colonies, into a revolutionary democracy. In the Carolinas, +where rice and cotton became the chief crops, negro slavery flourished +better; and with the spread of American territory into the Mississippi +Valley, it became rooted as an institution, despite the fact that, +theoretically, it was in conflict with the spirit of the people. + +The New England colonies on their part did not need any urging to +become thoroughly rebellious to England’s authority. Charles II on +his return to the throne in 1660 had already concluded to make them +more amenable to the common usages of England. These usages comprised +a respect for the established church, which had never been recognized +in Massachusetts, and toleration for the Quakers (whom Charles +personally favoured) who had been repeatedly fined, whipped, and made +to suffer banishment at the hands of the sectaries of Boston. In +1676 Charles’ agent, Randolph, recommended that the Massachusetts +charter be declared forfeit. This was done in 1684, and all the New +England charters followed suit. Charles died before he could show the +full scope of his intentions, but under James II, the whole of the +New England region, including Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Maine, +Plymouth, Rhode Island, and Connecticut fell under the sway of a +single governor, who was to rule without an assembly, with the aid +of a council. A meeting house in Boston was to be set apart for the +Church of England. The governor whom James appointed, Andros, met with +opposition from the outset. The people refused to pay the taxes which +their own old assemblies had voted, now that they were demanded by +Andros acting alone. Rebellion was rampant throughout New England and +in New York, where Andros governed through a deputy, Francis Nicholson. +The rebellion came to a head when in November 1688 the government of +James II fell in England itself, and was succeeded by that of William +of Orange, in which the Parliament and the Whig party of the middle +class finally triumphed over the old loyal aristocracy. From that time +on, the American colonies were resolutely bent on self-government, and +in New England and Virginia at least, on pushing back the Indians, +and gaining control of the interior, in which the French were now +hoping to build up a great overseas empire. Between them lay the +recently founded colony of Pennsylvania which alone, through the +Quakers, took up a pacific attitude towards England. Southwards there +was more loyalty in the newly-founded Carolinas; but there was also a +semi-feudal agrarian society that, sooner or later, would challenge the +North. + + +2 + +We have now come to the year 1688, which marks a turning point in +American Colonial History, with the advent of the Whig oligarchy +founded by the mercantile class, and supported by William III and +the new House of Orange. In the same year, or a little later, Peter +the Great who had been nominally ruler of Russia since 1682, finally +got the power in his hands, by crushing the Streltsy and exiling the +Regent. Henceforth the two countries were to run their course of +development side by side. + +It may be that the kind of reader whose mind is absorbed in statistics, +will here object: “There is really no parallel between a few +insignificant English-speaking colonies, planted on the far side of the +Atlantic, and consisting in 1690 of only two hundred thousand souls, +with a frontier running only fifty miles away from the seaboard, and +the older, more populous, if largely unformed realm of Muscovy.” But +history teaches that the mere size of a country has nothing whatever +to do with its importance in the story of human development. If size +and power to wage war were the sole criterion of importance, the Roman +Empire might logically be considered as having given more to humanity +at large than the whole of Ancient Greece and Judea. We know that +this is not so. Ancient Greece and Judea were each in their way more +spiritually important than Rome for the original ideas that they gave +to the common stock; and already in America, as in Russia, an original +idea was at work, which was profoundly to influence Europe. It is as +creators of new values that these two countries should be studied and +understood by the historian; not as economic, geographic, and political +entities. If we consider them purely under the latter heading, they +have been of somewhat less importance to Europe and the world at large, +than the South American Republics. + +The years that had passed in Russia since 1613, when the Romanov +line first came to power, up to Peter’s full accession in 1689, were +important chiefly as witnessing a fresh consolidation of power about +the representatives of this new dynasty. Poland, which had been the +chief enemy, pursued its path of disintegration into its component +atoms, under the feudal system still in vogue. It was nominally +ruled by an assembly of its gentry, which had the power of electing +the King. Unfortunately the decisions of this national assembly had +to be unanimous. In case the national assembly disagreed with any one +of the delegates from the innumerable local assemblies, the delegate +in question could interpose a free veto on any decision taken. The +minority had also the right of combining for the sake of resistance +against the majority, with the result that the whole country was +continually racked by threats of civil war. Poland in short had carried +the principle of feudal rights out to their logical end in a complete +states’ rights government. It was in the same unhappy position as the +American colonies themselves, in regard to its own central government, +but unlike the American colonies, it had no body of independent +merchants to fall back upon as a rallying point in its internal +struggle. It consisted of nothing but the great landed proprietors +who had become separate military establishments, intensely jealous of +each other, and the peasants, who were in a worse condition even than +the Russian peasants, inasmuch as their masters had full control of +their labour, could parade them for extra work, could force them to buy +their necessaries from them, refused their rights to make contracts, +fixed their wages, and had over them the absolute power of life and +death. All export trade was in the hands of the gentry and all rights +of sitting in the local and national assemblies. The only exceptions +were the despised Jews who had become the money-lending class, and were +equally hated of noblemen and peasants. + +Against decaying Poland, Russia had step by step built up a great +empire. But the Empire was worthless to her, unless she could obtain +foreign tools and arms, trade and an outlet to the sea. Under the +Romanovs the first great efforts were made to acquire these essentials. +Arms were imported, first from Sweden, later from Germany. A whole +colony of Saxons, Dutchmen, and other foreign artisans were brought +to Moscow and established in the so-called German Suburb. In 1647 a +western system of drill was introduced and foreign instructors were +brought in to train Russian regiments. Articles of western luxury made +their appearance: clocks, velvets, stone houses to replace wooden +huts, schools, and theatres which gave plays in foreign languages. But +transport was still difficult, bad, and toilsome, much in the same +condition as it was and remained on the American continent up to the +advent of the Industrial Revolution in 1840. The only difference was +that the American colonies lay far apart, settled in river valleys +running down to the coast, and separated by great stretches of +uninhabited country, whereas in Russia, Moscow was still at the centre +of affairs. The result was that in America’s case, each colony lived +largely on its own specific products. Cotton and rice came from the +Carolinas, tobacco from Maryland and Virginia, iron from Pennsylvania +and New Jersey, furs from New York, fish and pine timber from New +England. Trade abroad was more important than trade at home. In Russia +the whole volume of trade--Siberian minerals and furs, Volga grain, +Baltic pine, Persian carpets,--rolled and ebbed through the single +heart of Moscow and its outlying city-states, bound together not by +roads but by rivers. + +In neither country was there anything resembling a system of education, +or any independent development towards general culture. In this respect +indeed the American colonies for all their inferiority in numbers and +scale, were ahead of the Russians. The Old Church Slavonic, which was +for conversational or writing purposes totally dead, was still used for +all Church services. The ecclesiastics were almost the only learned +class, and the attempts of the Romanovs to reform the Church books +merely led to the violent schism of the “old believers” who came to +hold Peter himself as the Antichrist. The educated classes aimed to +speak German or French, and despised their own language. Schools there +were none, and most education was to be sought abroad. In the American +Colonies, on the other hand, the desire for native education manifested +itself early. Harvard College was incorporated as early as 1650; in +Virginia, William and Mary followed in 1693; Yale in 1701. True, this +education in the colonies had for the most part been inaugurated +for the sole purpose of training candidates for the ministry, and +had a strongly Puritan and theological tinge; but most Americans at +least acquired an ability to speak and write good English, and some +smattering of Latin. + +Meantime, in both countries, the throes of establishment were safely +over, and the first great expansion of effort rapidly followed. The +expansion was an expansion of land surface and population in America; +the latter increasing from two hundred thousand in 1690 to one and a +half millions in 1760. In Russia it was an immense expansion of power, +reacting on everyone from the Czar to the humblest serf. Peter himself +was, after Ivan the Terrible, the first great military leader the +Russians discovered, and he made good at last the claim to the Baltic, +and therefore to the open sea, against the country that was now, under +the successors of Gustavus Adolphus, mistress of that ocean: Sweden. +Meantime, in America, the colonies were not allowed to settle back into +complete enjoyment of their local liberties, won and ratified by King +William’s Government. During the next sixty years (1690-1750) they were +to take part in no less than four wars, each waged against the power +that had succeeded in penetrating further than any other into the true +heart of the American continent: France. + +From the time that Champlain in 1603 had come into the St. Lawrence +Valley and had established Quebec as a trading post controlling +the furs of this region, down to the settlement of the mouth of +the Mississippi in 1718, and the later establishment of St. Louis +and Natchez as trading posts controlling the traffic of the great +interior valley, the French had been by far the most active power in +the exploring of the interior of the American continent. In contrast +with the English who had clung conservatively to the seaboard, they +had boldly penetrated the very heart of the country; in contrast with +the Spanish who had cared for nothing but the evidences of mineral +wealth, and had ruthlessly warred upon and decimated the Indians, the +French had attempted to live on terms of friendship with the native +tribes, and had sought for the basis of their sway in the great wealth +of fish, furs, and game the country possessed. The St. Lawrence, the +Great Lakes, the Mississippi had each in turn felt the impress of the +French effort, and had there been any fever of colonization to back the +hardihood of the French explorers, traders, and Jesuit missionaries, +it is possible that to-day the French language, rather than the English +tongue, might be the common speech over most of the United States. +Unfortunately there was little disposition on the part of the French +people to migrate to the new world. A mere meagre handful, some three +thousand in all, including the fisheries of Nova Scotia, held the +whole of Canada in 1660; in 1750 about six thousand persons inhabited +the whole Louisiana territory. The French could not be induced to +come and settle in the newly discovered territory; their own local +instincts of traditional loyalty to their provinces, and their own +internal stability, which have made of France the most economically +self-contained country in Europe, forbade. But the mere existence +of French trading posts throughout the St. Lawrence and Great Lake +territory, the vague but shadowy grip that France had established upon +the whole hinterland of the American continent, frightened King William +and his ministers, and coincided with their determination to break +the contemporaneous claim of France to leadership in Europe itself. +There resulted the wars called King William’s War, 1690-1697, Queen +Anne’s War, 1701-1713, King George’s War, 1745-1748, and the great +French and Indian War which beginning in 1753 ended with the complete +annihilation of all of France’s dreams of foreign empire in the Treaty +of Paris of February 1763. + +The outcome of all these struggles was to leave the English masters +of the American continent from the Gulf of Mexico to Labrador and +westward to the Mississippi, including in their domain the chain of +the Great Lakes and the St. Lawrence basin. France retired from the +American continent, leaving Spain--who had vainly allied herself with +her in order to stop the English from invading Florida,--to keep a +shadowy tenure on the western bank of the Mississippi. During the last +phases of this conflict, the first great series of wars, except for +Indian campaigns, waged on the American continent, Pennsylvania which +had hitherto been pacific under the Quaker ascendancy, ranked itself +alongside of the other colonies in the effort to break the French grip +upon the headwaters of the Ohio. This was accomplished thanks largely +to the persistence of one man, Benjamin Franklin. Meantime, Virginia +had shown that in a young officer of militia, George Washington, it +possessed a notable Indian fighter. Each colony in turn had raised a +local militia to carry on the struggle to its triumphant success. Thus +England had at last, through the alliance with the newly-born kingdom +of Prussia, triumphed over France, destroyed her fleet, and succeeded +in shaking off her hold on India as well as America. But in order to do +this England had created something that was to be of the utmost danger +to her as time went on. She had created American solidarity. Exactly as +Peter the Great by his personal effort, created Russian solidarity. + + +3 + +The subsequent history of both countries moves along the lines we have +already been tracing. Peter the Great’s most important achievement was +not so much his successful wars against Sweden and Turkey, nor his +establishment, as “a window looking on Europe,” of a new capital on +the shores of the Baltic, but the creation of a new state-bureaucracy +to take the place of the dominance of the old nobility, a +state-bureaucracy bound by self-interest to support his system, and +which completed its task by assimilating the old Orthodox Russian +Church (which had hitherto been independent, under its own Patriarch) +into the state-machine, under the direct control of a Procurator of +the Holy Synod. By this act, Peter destroyed the last possibility of a +moral opposition to his rule, and fixed the system of autocracy beyond +possibility of change as the only political form possible to Russia, +subject solely to the chance that his successors might not possess +the same force of character that he had displayed. Peter, in short, +assimilated European statecraft, only to become more powerful than +Europe. Meanwhile the American colonies, separated completely from +each other by large tracts of waste country, and still more separated +by differences of soil, religion, and social organization, found a +rallying point in the feeling that the great western territory west of +the Appalachians was to be theirs, and were, at the same time, provided +by England with a force not only to conquer it but to assert their own +independence, in the shape of a local militia. This force removed the +last hope that England could hold the country by a display of military +power, inasmuch as in New England, where the administrative centre was +the township, the militia could be turned out at a moment’s notice. +Henceforth the South, whose administrative unit was the county, dropped +back in the race for the supreme headship of the American continent. +England, by creating a New England, had sown the seeds of her own +downfall. + +During the years that followed, while the great Virginia planters were +living on enormous feudal estates, worked by small armies of slaves, +and disregarding or despising the fringe of poorer squatters and +settlers that to westward were already pushing across the Appalachians, +the New England merchants and backwoodsmen were engaged in a struggle +with England that went on for years before exploding in an outbreak +of open revolution. The first phase of the struggle was over the +Navigation Acts, whereby England after 1650 had striven to control +the growing trade with the Colonies. By the most severe of these Acts +nothing could be shipped in or out of the Colonies except by English or +Colonial vessels, and the Colonies themselves were forbidden to trade +with any other power except England. This prohibition did not affect +the Southern planter aristocracy, inasmuch as they had no manufactures, +and no shipping, and sent out their agricultural products mainly and +regularly in English vessels to England, obtaining therefrom, even +in Washington’s day, their clothes, tools, and equipment. But the +New England colonies, unagricultural and mercantile, opposed the +Navigation Acts, necessarily. They had already become shipbuilding +powers, and regularly exported enormous quantities of dried fish to +Spain, Portugal, the West Indies, obtaining in return quantities of +Spanish-grown cane sugar to be turned into New England rum, which again +was exchanged for slaves in Africa, tea in China, silks and spices +in the East. New England was growing into a competitive shipping and +mercantile power alongside of England, so the Navigation Acts were +continually being evaded in the Northern Colonies. The second phase +of colonial opposition arose over taxation, notably over the taxation +of tea which particularly affected the Northern Colonies. The story +of the Boston Tea Party is too well known for me to have to refer to +it. The last phase arose over the general bureaucratic meddling with +the affairs of the colonies, expressed in the Stamp Act. In all these +underground struggles, the New England Colonies took the lead, with +the Southerners a bad second, and it is from this date that we must +look to the New Englanders with their completely commercial morality, +their Yankee cunning, and their fanatic dissenting Puritanism, as most +expressive of the direction in which America was travelling. + +Thus while the drift of American sentiment gradually coalesced +and hardened against England, more and more strayed from the +ordered control of the Virginia planter aristocracy to the radical +experimentalism of the New England merchant group, the drift of +Russian sentiment was hardening in favour of Peter’s foreign-modelled +civil service and military establishment. In both cases a radical +and arbitrary minority was beginning to control the sluggish and +conservative majority. Underground, in South Russia particularly, +smouldered the popular feeling against the innovations of Peter and +his successors. It could do nothing because it lacked the weapons +wherewith to fight. Peter had taken good care to keep the army loyal +to him. But during Peter’s reign it burst out in the revolt of the Old +Believers; and in Catherine the Great’s period, which covered the years +when the American Colonies made their successful stand against England, +it exploded on the south-east Volga frontier among the Cossacks, in the +open class-war rebellion of Pugachev. Both Russia and America came into +power by building up systems of government that rested upon a profound +inner dualism. The dualism in America came from a struggle between the +aristocratic, agrarian, and conservative South, and the democratic, +mercantile, and independently-minded North and East. In Russia it +sprang from the opposition between the brilliant and sceptical +state-machine, pursuing its warlike ambitions even further into Europe, +and the inert, superstitious mass of the peasantry, particularly of +the lower Volga region, which was groaning under the weight of taxes +necessary to keep the state-service going, and unable--thanks to +serfdom--to retaliate except by open rebellion. + +We have already pointed out that there exists a parallel between +Egypt and Babylonia, in Russia and America. Here again that parallel +must be alluded to. As in Babylonia, the state-religion was at the +outset composed of a series of regional cults, only welded later by +military force into the universal worship of the central Babylonian +sun-and-war-god Marduk, so in Russia the force of dissenting regional +sentiment contended against the deliberate state-policy of making the +Czar central autocrat of all the Russias and sole head of the Church. +As in Egypt, the religious struggle was between the sun-god, Ra of the +North, whose symbol was a golden disk, and the vegetation-god, Osiris +of the South, whose symbol was the tree of life, so in America there +was always tension between the agricultural South and the industrial, +gold-worshipping North. Russia could only keep going so long as the +Czar was victorious; America could only keep going so long as the +two divergent sections of its people fused into one. Unless we keep +these differences in mind we cannot understand either country. And it +is only by meditating upon them that we can fully understand all the +world-transformations that were historically to come into being from +the creation of Russia and the United States. + +The process that we have been following culminated in Catherine +the Great and in Washington. These two historical and contemporary +figures not only represent immense landmarks in human history, but are +symbolical for long into the future, up to the threshold even of our +own day, of the power that is Russia, and is America. In studying them +as completely representative of the inner development we have been +following, we become witnesses of a phenomenon not common to human +history; the rise of two cultures side by side. This had happened +before in antiquity in the parallel growth of the Babylonian-Assyrian +and the Egyptian civilisations, which were, like Russia and America in +later times, river countries, and which were divided by the land-bridge +of Palestine and the Arab peninsula from each other. The later powers, +Russia and America, faced each other across the whole world, and +where Russia depended upon Europe for intellectual leadership, arms +and appliances, America depended on Europe for physical support, and +eventually for political independence itself. Nowhere is this more +clear than in the period we have now to study; the period of Catherine +in Russia, of Washington in America. Where Catherine interested herself +at the outset of her reign in Voltaire and Rousseau, wrote plays +herself in the French vein, was a brilliant leader of theoretical +intellectualism, many-sided and fascinating at the outset, and ended +as an ageing tyrant; Washington, the typical American of his time, was +a plain, blunt, country squire, intensely practical, not particularly +brilliant, with but one idea in his mind, the free expansion of +the colonies westward, who, despite himself, was dragged into the +current of Rousseauism and Voltairism practised by such spirits as +Paine and Jefferson, and ended as a retired moderate and a private +citizen. No more startling divergence could be found between countries +so similar geographically and climatically. There is something even +more interesting, psychologically and symbolically, in the fact that +Catherine the Great was a woman who had begun as a needy adventuress +without a drop of Russian blood in her veins, while Washington was +a man who began as a wealthy landowner of the most conservative and +long-rooted Virginian aristocracy. In both cases, the situation +found the one figure that could control it. In order to conquer +Europe, Russia had to find someone relentlessly efficient, utterly +unsentimental, theoretically advanced, but so profoundly imbued with +the desire to increase personal prestige as to be unwilling to bate a +jot of power; this was Catherine. In order to prevent the separation +from Europe from becoming a mere revulsion to anarchic chaos, America +had to find someone broad-mindedly tolerant, aristocratically reserved, +practical in outlook, so steady of purpose as never to be swayed by any +personal misfortune. This was Washington. Catherine’s reign (1762-1796) +led to the final destruction of Poland, brilliant military victories +over Turkey, terrible peasant misery at home, and the establishment of +Russia as the greatest military power threatening the whole of Europe; +Washington’s period of ascendency as General and President (1776-1797) +led to complete independence from England, immense expansion westwards, +an ever-widening rift between the agricultural South and the commercial +North, and the final establishment of America as a power completely +isolated, and determined to seek no further “world-entanglements,” but +to create its own political destiny. + + + + +Chapter IV + + +Up to a short time before America was discovered, and Russia emerged +on the stage of the world’s affairs under Ivan the Great, Europe had +been a social, moral, and spiritual unity. This unity, despised and +blackened by the apostles of enlightenment in the eighteenth century, +under the title of “the feudal system,” had been developing from the +fourteenth century onwards in the wrong direction of nationalist +monarchy, instead of in the only right one of such a popularly +grounded, elective feudalism as we find foreshadowed in the writings +of Plato, More, or Campanella. At its highest and best, it had not +succeeded in preventing such purely political wars as the dynastic +struggle of the later Plantagenets with France, or the heroic struggle +of the Holy Roman Empire with the papacy, or the civil struggle between +the burghers of the free towns and the feudal overlords; but it must +also be remembered on the credit side of the balance, that it had also +promoted the largely idealistic effort of the Crusaders, the unified +social and moral enlightenment of monasticism, and had created as well +a great common language of art, rooted in popular symbolism, a common +faith unified in outward observance, and, in its great revival of +Latin, a common speech whereby scholars from all parts of Europe might +easily understand each other. + +These are compensation enough, in such minds as realize their complete +lack of such rallying points to-day, for the failure of those days to +achieve telephones or modern sanitation. The same order of thought that +had re-established centres of culture and philosophy after the complete +breakdown of the old Roman order in the eighth century, continued its +effort almost unimpaired up to the close of the fifteenth. We still in +a measure to-day partake of as many of its fruits as the failure of +discipline, represented by the revival of nationalistic warring powers +in the fourteenth, the revival of new learning in the fifteenth, and +the Protestant and counter-Catholic reformations of the sixteenth, +have left to us. At its apex, in the thirteenth century, life from +the North Cape to Palestine, from Cornwall to the Carpathians, was +of one piece throughout. As the next world was divided into the +realms of heaven, purgatory, and hell, so this world was divided into +its appropriate realms: the king’s palace, the feudal castle, the +cathedral, the abbey, the market town, the guildhall, the peasant’s +hut. Over all lay the spiritual sway of a unified ecclesiastic order, +the solid power of Catholic Christianity. Towards the east lay the +less intelligent, less rationally disciplined, more thaumaturgic and +despotically absolute power of the Orthodox Greek faith, which had been +completely separated from the western faith since the ninth century, +and which revolved about the decaying court of Constantinople. With the +fall of that capital in 1456 and the consequent driving of a wedge by +the Turks into the heart of Christianity, the rift between the Eastern +and the Western churches had become chronic, and the Eastern Church +had grown more and more hidebound and static, remote from anything +resembling forward-looking Christianity. A little before this event, +there had come about--thanks to the failure of the Crusades and the +spirit of growing commercialism--the rise of a new burgher class and +their alliance with the purely political and dynastic ambitions of a +nationalist monarchy, which took place first in France, and later in +England. + +It is worth noticing that both these countries lay on the western +borders of Europe. In Spain, too, a nationalist monarchy developed, but +it was dependent on the support of the old feudal nobility rather than +the bourgeoisie, had its own internal problems to settle in the fact +that part of the country lay in the hands of the Mohammedans, and did +not in any case exert much influence abroad earlier than the sixteenth +century. Italy, unable to find a single ruler, was rapidly sinking +into the gulf of anarchy through which the torrent of the Renaissance +made its way, to peter out on the shoals of academicism and realistic +sentimentality. But soon after 1492, the date of Columbus’ discovery +of the New World, the most startling sign that a new order had come +into being in the world was furnished by Germany. In 1517 in the very +heart of the Holy Roman Empire of legend and heroic achievement for the +Catholic faith, the Augustinian monk Luther posted his theses to the +church door at Wittenberg. This was three years before Cortez completed +his conquest of Mexico, or Magellan made the first circumnavigation of +the globe. The subsequent process known as the Reformation, whether in +its early Protestant or later Catholic manifestation, paid no heed to +the great spiritual unity of the past. It rested entirely on social +and economic factors. Consciously or not, it either supported or +failed to combat the nationalist morality to which religion was to be +subservient, of which morality we have reaped the latest fruits in the +outburst of unspiritually motivated hatred that accompanied the Great +War. Its chief result was the complete separation of Northern Teutonic +and Southern Mediterranean Christianity. + +If we could construct a thought map as opposed to a nationalist map of +Europe about the year 1550, we would find that Europe was no longer +in any sense a unity. Europe then, as since, fell readily into two +halves. The dividing line was never totally clear, but the northern and +western part of Europe was predominantly Protestant, as the eastern +and southern remained predominantly Catholic. In the western half of +Europe, Spain was the strongest of Catholic outposts; but Spain had her +last triumph in 1570, the year of Lepanto, and eighteen years later +was to know her first heavy defeat in the destruction of the Armada. +In opposition to Catholicism were England, the Scandinavian countries, +a considerable portion of France, notably the south-western half, and +practically all of northern and western Germany. Southern Germany, like +Bavaria, remained Catholic, but Switzerland again became Protestant. +On the other hand, Italy, Austria, Bohemia, Hungary, Poland, remained +Catholic to the core. + +Thus it came about that America became open--especially after the +defeat of the Spanish Armada--to colonization from Western and +Protestant European countries, while Russia, despite Ivan the +Terrible’s attempt to find a _rapprochement_ with England, became +open to influence from Eastern Europe, which was predominantly feudal +and Catholic. The outcome was to make Russia more and more feudal +and autocratic, while America became more and more _bourgeois_ and +Protestant. After Peter the Great’s time, Russia presented to Europe +the image of an autocracy of a little more logical and thorough-going +stamp than the autocracy practised in France and Spain; after King +William’s War, America became a democracy a little more advanced and +complete than the type of successful commercial democracy governing +England. + +Both countries, nevertheless, sought for a common ideal in the past. +Russia, as refounded by Ivan the Great, proclaimed its kinship with +Rome. It was the “third Rome,” the first being the Rome of Augustus, +the second the Rome of Byzantium. The mystic idea that the _pallium_ +of world-empire had travelled from Rome to Constantinople and from +Constantinople, in the wake of Ivan the Great’s bride, the Empress +Sophia, to Moscow, where it was to be firmly established for ever, +ruled Russian State policy from 1490 up to the outbreak of the +Bolshevik revolution in 1917. It invested the Romanovs and their +successors, who were not even Russian in essence, with semi-divine +authority and mystery. It was perhaps the basis of such a startling +stroke of policy as Catherine the Great’s offering open asylum to the +Jesuits after their banishment from France and Spain. At the same +time, the thirteen American colonies, newly established, began playing +with the notion that they too were Rome--but Rome of the republic, +Rome of the Latian league. This idea was markedly materialistic and +rationalistic, as the Russian idea was markedly mystical and emotional. +It grew to enormous proportions after the Revolution, when the infant +Republic was shaken to its foundations by the revelations concerning +the Society of the Cincinnati. Thus over the background of Russia and +America, the patterns of different Romes grew and spread. + +That background was nomadic, centrifugal, primitive in both cases. +In America it was a background of hunters and fishers, trappers, +traders, and roving Redskins. It was Franco-Spanish, Spanish-Indian. +The type of man that this background was producing--and continued to +produce after the first Anglo-Saxons crossed the Alleghany barrier--was +the self-assertive, independent, inventive, resourceful hunter and +fighter. The fact that the country was wilderness, largely forested, +with poor communications and few openings for trade, added to Spanish +adventurousness, Norman-French daring, and Anglo-Saxon fanaticism a +fresh tang. If people could not agree together under law on major +points of religion or minor points of social observance, all that was +necessary was to kill off or frighten away a few Indians with firearms +and to live isolated, far apart. In this respect the North American +family soon became a wandering tribe, liable to the most casual +accretions from without and to the most arbitrary splits and divisions +of sentiment, except in districts early settled, where the common bonds +of a unified stock and better communications served to hold the clan +together. In the middle and western colonies, the white colonist soon +took on, in his dealings with his neighbours, and in his disposition to +rove about, the colours of Indian life. + +The Russian too had his background, but the background was Tartar. It +was a life either agricultural or nomadic, like the American life, but +that which made and kept the country productive was not the independent +desire to make fortunes and to seek new fields for themselves on the +part of an active population, but a profound acceptance of inner +necessity on the part of an inert one. The Tartar-Russian temperament +was inert, or stung to sudden action under the pressure of crisis, +while the American temperament was active, sinking to inertia only +under the stimulus of growing prosperity. What drove the Russians +to migrate was not the sense of a new horizon to be attained, or a +new horizon to be conquered, but the mere desire to escape from an +unchanging round, an inner need to stand aloof from the village and +its elders, the landowner’s mansion and its barns, the bloodthirsty +Cossack, or the life-sapping tax-gatherer. That was because from the +beginning the Russian family had not been a family in the American +sense, but a great collection of souls: feudal retainers, house and +farm serfs, and distant tributaries. In Russia, and more particularly +in the steppes of Southern and Eastern Russia, apart from the trading +centres of the North Russia forest belt, the peasant tended continually +to revert to the colours of pure Tartar and nomad life. + +Thus we may safely say, without fear of contradiction, that the +European influence, transported to America, lost its ordered English +characteristics, and became something more akin to Spanish buccaneering +or the loose confederacy of Indian tribes; while the same influence, +exerted on Russia from her western borders, made that country a +Late-Latin imperium, greatly modified by the spirit of Tartar nomadry. +This remarkable transformation was due, after all sociological, racial, +religious factors have been weighed and dismissed, primarily to +climatic and geological factors. In neither Russia nor North America +is nature a friendly factor, nor is it possible there to look on man +as an “addition to nature” nor as the “measure of all things” in the +Greco-Latin sense. Both countries had climates of exceptional severity, +vast stretches of soil of inferior productiveness, a population thinly +scattered, and lacking, until the later growth of railways, in means +of communication. The most fertile agricultural region of America, the +Mississippi valley, lay far inland through enormous forests, at the +mercy of floods and malaria, as the most fertile region of Russia, the +Volga basin, lay on the remote Caspian frontier, at the mercy of steppe +winds, and consequent famine and typhus. Psychologically, the Russian +and the American reacted differently to this situation. In Russia, the +influx of Tartar blood resulted in making the majority of the race +fatalistic, sensual, lazy, with a tendency towards a curious mingling +of pantheism and sacramental Christianity. In America, the influx +of Anglo-Saxon Puritanism made the majority reckless, highstrung, +extremely active, with a tendency towards a mingling of outward +practical sense and inward moral fanaticism. + +From the date when America and Russia appeared on the horizon, we can +trace the steady rise of European individualism. The revolutionary +impulse of Europe has always been an affair of outstanding +individuals, perhaps of small minorities: even the French Revolution +was ultimately accomplished by a few outstanding clever politicians, +centering on Paris. The revolutionary impulse, on the other hand, in +both America and in Russia, has been an affair of mass-movements. +Washington was intellectually merely the ordinary American landowner +of his time; Lenin the ordinary provincial noble. Such revolutionary +upheavals as Alexander Second’s freeing of the serfs, or America’s +Civil War, came about not through the agitation of any single body +of men, but by a combination of interests: economic and sentimental. +In Russia, it was necessary for the emancipation of the serfs to +take place, because the system of Nicholas I, which had relied on +foreign conquest to ensure the prosperity of the country, had broken +down; and the system of serfdom, which had really only flourished +in the black soil belt of South Russia, was, as Alexander II said, +“in danger of abolishing itself from below.” In America it became +increasingly necessary to limit the field of the slave-holding class +to the Lower Southern States, or the economic control of the financier +and trading class in the North would be threatened by the irruption +of slave-holders into the rich Western territory and the consequent +creation of an agrarian imperialism. None of the changes that took +place in American or Russian political life during the nineteenth +century were so arbitrary as the violent cross-currents that, during +the same time, affected Europe. + +The advance of Russia and America throughout the eighteenth and +nineteenth centuries was not without its influence in Europe, or rather +on the type of European genius that Europe was to produce. The rise +of the Jesuit order within the Catholic church and the corresponding +and opposed rise of mystical non-conformist sects such as swarmed +in the latter eighteenth century,--for example, Wesleyanism and +Swedenborgianism--were its first symptoms in the religious field. +The corresponding decline in architecture into the extravagances of +later baroque, or the frigidities of academic classicism, or the false +romanticism of the Gothic revival, mark its influx in the field of +architecture. Such individual geniuses as Voltaire or Kant, Blake +or Beethoven, Carlyle or Nietzsche, Ibsen or Shaw, reveal the same +splitting up of Europe into efficiently Americanised revolutionary +and sceptically Catholicised reactionary as was going on elsewhere. +Henceforth Europe, or European life, was no longer a unity; and only +a unity can produce great social movements, such as had culminated in +previous centuries in a Dante, a Shakespeare, an Aquinas, a Bach, a +Cervantes, or a Racine. From the outset of the nineteenth century, the +individual in Europe became more important than his age. It was only +outside the frontiers of Europe, in Russia or in America, that the age +was to remain more important than the individual. + + +2 + +It was through the deliberately exercised will of a minority that +Russia and America became independent; and this minority consisted +in both cases of people who had been largely Europeanised. Left to +themselves, the Russians would have relapsed into nomad savagery; +their unity was imposed on them by a long list of ambitious princes, +from Ivan the Great down to Peter the Great, whose eyes were directed +continually towards Europe. Left to themselves, the true Americans--the +early Spanish, French, and English colonists--might have conceivably +remained as divided and sparsely scattered settlements surrounded by a +fringe of Indians and wilderness: their contact with the outer world +was kept up by a long list of Puritan divines and southern aristocrats +armed with muskets, law books, and Bibles, and busily transplanting +into the wilderness the fundamental contrast between European Whig +and Tory. Up to 1688, the date of the Whig revolution in England +and its reverberation in the Colonies in the shape of King William’s +War, the whole history of the American colonies was nothing but chaos +and anarchy. The successive squabbles with governors, the successive +acceptance and dismissal of royal proprietors, the successive guerilla +wars with the Indians, form a complex labyrinth of greed, intrigue and +baseness not easy to match anywhere. It was only through influence and +pressure from without, from England, that any civilisation kept itself +alive at all. Likewise in Russia, the small body of German, Dutch, +Italian artisans, architects, engineers, scholars, soldiers of fortune +and sycophants that filled the German suburb at Moscow from 1500 to +1688, transformed Russia under Peter the Great, and continued to do so +under Elizabeth and Catherine. + +The ruling minority in America curried favour with one or the other of +the political parties that happened to be in the ascendant in England; +in Russia, as the peasant was illiterate, the minority had to curry +favour with the Czar himself. During the reigns of Peter, of Elizabeth, +and Catherine, Russian literature--that is to say, literature +written in the Russian language, as distinguished from Old Church +Slavonic--made its appearance. The most potent weapon of civilisation, +the written word, was snatched once and for all from the hands of the +Orthodox monks and Metropolitans, whose chronicles had been hitherto +the sole means of expression, and given to the secular powers, the +outstanding nobles, upon whose support the safety of Czardom really +rested. This literature, in both cases, was to take its intellectual +tone from Europe, its sentimental pretexts only were Russian or +American. + +The influence of such Republican speculations as James Harrington’s +“Oceana” influenced the one, as the influence of the sentimental +naturalism of Diderot and the Encyclopædists influenced the other. At +about the same time, and under the same conditions, the power of the +Old New England theocracy, and of the Byzantine family-order began to +wane, and the control of expression of opinion began to pass to the +thriving but new commercial communities of St. Petersburg, New York, +Charleston and Odessa. + +To both new countries Europe was like a great land-bridge, representing +an older, more powerful, more refined civilisation. The ideas that +prevailed in America or in Russia were not only derived from this +body of thought, but were applied to conditions that were totally +different. In the case of Russia, the central authority of the Czar, +the nobles and the bureaucracy, attempted to transform an inert mass of +semi-Oriental serfdom into something resembling a modern nationalistic +monarchy. In the case of America, the most prosperous classes, the +independent merchants and bankers, attempted to fuse an inchoate mass +of fanatics, planters and frontiersmen into a political unity which +was democratic and federal. The ideas upon which both worked came from +Europe; in the case of Russia the model sought after was the model of +the unified French monarchy, the Prussian State, the Austrian Empire. +In the case of America the model unconsciously followed was that of the +Greek city-states, or of the principalities of the Italian Renaissance. + +Long ago, if we look far enough back in history, the empires of +Babylonia-Assyria and of Egypt had been states dependent on great river +systems for their unity. They had sprung up independently, while the +land-bridge that lay between them, Palestine and Moab, being highland +and desert, was not only at a lower stage of culture, but, under the +Amorites and Hittites, became a body of traders, borrowing from each +in turn, and profiting by their situation in the territory where lay +the chief caravan routes between the two great centres of Babylon and +Heliopolis, to develop finally an independent viewpoint and a composite +race-unity for itself under the Semites. With Russia and America, the +same process was reversed. Europe lay as a land-bridge between Russia +and America. But this land-bridge, as a unified civilisation, had +already passed its maximum, and was headed for decline. Now certain +elements of that civilisation were to pass beyond Europe’s frontiers +into two countries, hitherto undeveloped, which were founded upon +river-systems. In Russia these elements were such as could seek a +common centre about the Czardom of Muscovy. In America, these elements +were such as could build themselves into harmony with the commercial +classes of the Atlantic seaboard controlling the river-ways that led +into the interior. + + +3 + +The “third Rome” that Russia proclaimed herself to be, at the time +when the Muscovite Czars became predominant in its affairs, was +essentially the mystical, inner Rome of the Byzantine Cæsars. Deriving +its authority from seclusion, intrigue, separation between court and +people, it accepted none as leader save he who had passed over the +portal of the Cathedral of the Transfiguration and had received on his +forehead the holy chrism from the hands of the Orthodox Patriarch; +however much he may have despised that patriarch in his heart, as did +Peter and Catherine. But America founded a Rome of another sort, and +in this Rome, democratic and enterprising, none was to be accepted +as leader save he who had turned his back upon the ruling party in +England and maintained, in combined political and religious thinking, +his independence of the motherland. Thus the two wings of the embodied +Imperial idea persisted in separation beyond Europe’s frontiers; and +the age of their uprise was the age of the decline of the Imperial idea +in Europe. Both America and Russia came on the stage of the world’s +affairs at the time of the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire; both +rose to power during the period of intense nationalism that followed; +and both played important parts in the final overthrow of Napoleon, who +may be said to have attempted to restore an Empire by the power of his +sword alone, when as a social and spiritual ideal, it was already dead. + +In order to understand the sort of Rome America founded, we must look +back to the legendary sources of England. The study of legendary +history is often more valuable to the sociological investigator +than the study of actual events. The latter merely tells us what a +people were able to accomplish under changes of weather and economic +prosperity, the pressure of external influence, the million and one +contributory causes which make up the life and state of well or +ill-being of the community from day to day. Legendary history, on the +other hand, reveals the goal steadily aimed at, the ideal to which all +aspired, the psychical centre about which all this activity revolves. +Thus we cannot understand the Greeks without a study of Achilles, +Odysseus, Theseus. The fatalistic bravery, the wily shiftiness, the +adventurous courage of a whole folk, are here summed up. Rama and +Krishna tell us more about India than the pages of Indian history, +which are, as a matter of fact, mostly blank; nor is America itself +comprehensible without reference to such quasi-legendary figures as +Parson Weems’ Puritanic fixation of Washington, Davy Crockett, Andrew +Jackson, or Daniel Boone. The legendary history of England is to be +found in the pages of Geoffrey of Monmouth’s History; and as the story +told therein is essentially representative of what many English minds +of the twelfth century believed to have been the truth, desired to make +the truth, it is necessary to look into it. + +According to this account, Britain was founded by a Trojan prince, +a grandson of Æneas himself, founder of Rome. That such a thing is +doubly impossible, we now know, and we are apt to laugh at Geoffrey for +putting it forward. Yet even this legend may contain some substratum of +truth. The Latian tribes, from which the Romans came, were undoubtedly +subject to much Phœnician influence, and there is reason to suspect +that the Western Britons, at least, were also subject to some early +Phœnician influence. The “Trojans,” whoever they were, may have been +a Phœnician people, or a legend retailed by the Phœnicians. At all +events, we need not laugh at Geoffrey for his feeble arch spanning +the abyss between little Britain and majestic Rome. The fact is, that +almost everybody in England, rich or poor, (except perhaps a few +clerics who are by nature adepts at concealing both the truth and +their doubts) believed in Geoffrey’s time, and for several hundred +years later, that the Britons were the descendants of the Trojans, +and that under Arthur, their greatest king, they had conquered thirty +other kingdoms, and had been on the point of conquering Rome itself +when Mordred, Arthur’s nephew, seized crown and queen. This belief was +so strong that Henry II, at the end of the twelfth century, was not +only induced to rebuild Glastonbury, but his abbot, Henry of Blois, +discreetly “found” the tomb of Arthur there, in order to put a stop +to persistent rumors concerning the king’s possible reappearance. And +the belief was renewed, when under the Tudors, a remote descendant +of ancient British kings mounted the throne of his ancestors, thus +fulfilling the prophecy of Merlin. + +The belief that prevailed in England after the Norman Conquest and +throughout the Middle Ages--and this belief was all the more powerful +because it was popular, unformulated, unrecognised by the rationalism +of the ruling orders--was that England was once on the point of +conquering Rome, and that under the new monarchy it would reassume +its position as head of the world’s affairs. This faith came to its +flower under the Tudors. Under Henry VIII the conquest of Rome became +an accomplished fact. The poets, philosophers and divines of the time +hailed the advent of Elizabeth in terms that made of her the equal, if +not the superior, of any empress of antiquity. And it was precisely +at this time that the newly-discovered realm of Virginia was thrown +open; that Puritanic sectaries driven out of England by the machinery +of the State Church which Tudors and Stuarts had set in action, +Calvinistic upholders of that ascetic intolerance which the Catholics +later were themselves to imitate, Congregationalist rebels against +episcopal supervision, were to establish overseas a republican form +of England--a third Rome. This feeling that the mother country, in +alliance with Protestant and Colonial dissent, might become a primitive +Roman commonwealth in opposition to the monarchial ideas of Renaissance +Europe, prevailed throughout the great struggle of the Commons with +Charles I, and the subsequent Cromwellian dictatorship. It is not for +nothing that John Milton, before writing “Paradise Lost,” meditated +an epic on the old Arthurian story. The “Cromwellian” tone of the old +story lay closely akin to the rooted ambitions of his race. + +In short where Russia, by a process of unconscious assimilation, +became the successor of Byzantium and thus a bulwark against Europe, a +mystically isolated bulwark, which only such unorthodox Czars as Peter, +Catherine, and Alexander II dared to ignore,--America rose to power +precisely by consciously reverting to the Rome of the tribunes and of +warring patricians and plebeians, a Rome that found its first test in +a conflict with another country that had already previously risen to +imperial power. England became America’s Carthage; Poland, Lithuania +and Sweden became for Imperial Russia the analogues of the Greek +city-states. From this fact, and from a host of subsidiary facts, arose +the typical introverted attitude of the Russian and its opposite in +the American. About the typical, one hundred per cent American one can +learn everything but his feelings. His thoughts, his opinions, are all +on the surface. America is to him the greatest of countries. American +prosperity is the world’s prosperity, American life is the ideal life, +America’s expansion is the expansion of the world’s democratic hope +into backward Europe and remote, superstitious Asia. Over this simple +creed a Whitman, a Jefferson and an Emerson can shake hands. About a +Russian you know only his feelings. His opinions he is able to change +with disconcerting completeness. A Tolstoy can change from the creed +of “getting the best out of life for oneself and family,” to a creed +of ascetic denial of all the world’s goods, with no loss of intensity; +a Dostoevsky can somehow reconcile the inner conflict between mystic +Slavophilism and underground rebellion against Christianity itself, +without ceasing to be Dostoevsky. Only a completely exiled American, +like Henry James, or one who hankers after exile, like Poe, Hawthorne, +or Melville, can fully exploit his feelings; only a completely exiled +Russian, like Herzen, or one who hankers after exile like Turgenev, +Tchekhov, or Pushkin himself, can maintain any constancy in opinion. + + +4 + +But this is not the place to discuss the mental attitudes implied in +being an American and a Russian. That will come out more fully as we +go on. For the moment we must revert to the course of our interrupted +historical analysis, which was abandoned at the moment that the +Americans, under Washington, made themselves the sole masters and +controllers of the wealth of an immense continent, left by England +in their hands; while at the same time the Russians under Catherine +became masters and controllers of the whole of Eastern Europe, and +issued their first threat to shake off the power of the Turks from +Constantinople. Each had accomplished this at the price of a daring +alliance. Catherine had allied herself with Prussia, which in the +preceding reign had been Russia’s most important enemy, in order to +destroy Poland utterly; America had allied herself with France, which +twenty years before had appeared as the colonists’ chief enemy, in +order to conquer England. But the elaborate game of eighteenth century +diplomacy that both had played, based as it was on balances of power, +secret treaties, dynastic successions, bribings and spyings, and a +cynical understanding of the foibles of human nature, was about to come +to an end. In 1789 the French Revolution broke out, and the cause of +eighteenth century monarchy collapsed in ruins. During the same year +the first congress of the United States assembled, under the present +American Constitution. + +During the years that had elapsed since the British Government withdrew +from the colonies in 1783, America had hardened from a confederation of +semi-independent commonwealths rather on the Polish model, completely +lacking in internal unity, to a federal republic. This transformation +had come about thanks to three converging causes. In the first place, +England, despite the Revolution, still held a vague sway over the +interior, and though promising to abandon her outposts in the Great +Lake territory, refused to do so. This gave the colonists a reason +for continuing to cling together, inasmuch as all were now equally +interested in the hunger for land that possessed the settlers pushing +forward beyond the Appalachian region. In the second place, without +a central government, there was danger that the outlying settlements +might be tempted by bribes and intrigue to throw in their lot with +England again. Vermont actually attempted to do so; and in the new +regions of Kentucky and Tennessee intrigue was going on with the +Spaniards in occupation of Louisiana that boded equally ill. Moreover +there was the question of the Indian tribes to settle; and the Great +Lakes and Mississippi region not only provided the chief backbone of +the Indian resistance, but were open to foreign agents ready to arm the +Indians, against the Colonists. Lastly, the colonies had come out of +the Revolution crippled with debt, and with a worthless currency. It +was to the interest of the newly-born, independent banking community of +New York, headed by Alexander Hamilton, to fund this debt and replace +this currency with legal tender. Thanks to Hamilton and his associates, +the Federal Union rested from the start upon the conservative money +power. The outbreak of a local rebellion in Massachusetts, the +increasing trouble on the frontier, served but to centralise and focus +the aims of the Colonists upon Federalism, and hasten the adoption of a +constitution. + +During the same time, the Russian autocracy under Catherine became more +and more a question of the personal whim of whatever sovereign happened +to be occupying the throne. Catherine had begun as theoretically +liberal, but she had inherited a system that put unlimited power into +her hands to play with, and the year before she came to the throne, the +gentry were finally liberated from all obligations of state service. +This left her free to carry on the machinery of government with the aid +of any subordinates that would do her bidding absolutely, undeterred +by patriotic, religious, or moral scruples. As Catherine was herself +entirely without such scruples, and ruled alone by her passion for +vanity and display, her favourites had the easy task of appealing to +her baser side. Conquest was what Catherine wanted; whether it was to +bedazzle Diderot and Voltaire, or to partition Poland, or to embark +on a campaign with Turkey, she could not resist the lure of posing as +the mistress of Europe. Frederick the Great, who from his desperate +position as the leader of a forlorn hope, gradually built up Prussia +into a power to be reckoned with, understood this perfectly, and was +not sparing of his flatteries, while at the same time he watched with +equal understanding the rise of the colonies, and wrote measured and +intelligent eulogies of their leader Washington. The difficulty with +Catherine’s system, was that it depended altogether on her iron will, +and she could do nothing to ensure the same determination to over-ride +opposition for her successors. In order to go on she had to overlook +the desperate peasant-rising created by Pugachev, to break with one +favourite after another, and to treat with contempt the terrible +outbreak of cholera that occurred in Moscow itself during her reign. + +To both countries, the French Revolution came as a terrible shock. +To Catherine it became apparent that unless the sovereigns of Europe +acted in concert to save the French Monarchy, her own game was as good +as lost. But unfortunately, the European sovereigns were indisposed +to act together, and separately the Revolutionary armies easily beat +them. To Washington and the most intelligent Americans, it soon became +obvious that although America was in alliance with France, to maintain +that alliance under new conditions would only lead to fresh European +occupations of American soil, and to the condition that the colonists +had already faced in the last years of the Revolution, when only the +dwindling and ill-equipped Continental army stood between them and +submission. In the outcome both countries, despite their previous +embroilments in European politics, took a fresh step backward into +isolation. In America that isolation was conscious and proclaimed; in +Russia it was instinctive, subconscious, and uneasy. Its course in both +cases, was charted and developed by the subsequent career of Napoleon. + +We cannot understand Napoleon’s character, nor the tragedy of his +career, unless we grasp the fact that he was born in an atmosphere +of local rebellion resembling exactly the rebellion of the American +colonies under Great Britain. But in Corsica, this sort of thing was +bound to fail, because the Corsicans did not have, like the American +colonists, the undeveloped wastes and the boundless resources of +a remote continent to fall back upon. Napoleon grew to manhood +understanding that destiny would not consent to be on the side +of European uprisings; and this understanding guided his mental +orientation, first towards the idealistic Jacobins, whose real aim was +a Constitutional and popular monarchy, then, when that hope failed, +towards a military dictatorship. And this military dictatorship took on +more and more the outer form of a Roman imperium divested of Byzantine +ceremonial, in his own eyes. By combining theoretic liberalism with +personal talent he thought he could revive ancient Cæsarism. + +The true turning point in Napoleon’s career came when from his camp +at Boulogne, he turned East before learning of Trafalgar, and went +off to fight Austria and Prussia. The star he then followed led him +inevitably to the blazing streets of Moscow, and finally to utter +self-destruction, because every step that he took upon the eastward +path depended on his ability to create an atmosphere of overwhelming +military prestige, in order to overawe all the monarchs of Europe into +accepting him as their equal. In thus turning eastward, Napoleon had +to go against his own inmost conviction that he was born to save the +Revolution. Had he overcome England’s stubborn opposition to change +(and there were many people in England half-disposed to pray that he +might do so) there would have been nothing against his victorious +forward advance but the Atlantic and the new American States, which +were unknown quantities in opinion, but which were rapidly dividing +into two parties under Washington and Jefferson. But in order to do +this, Napoleon would have been obliged to depend on such maritime war +genius as his country could bring forth, and since he had no ability +or experience in naval war, this decided him. Napoleon must have known +that he was not invincible on land--no general ever is--and yet his +attempt to create a European empire depended on his being practically +invincible, as he well knew. Hence his alternations of desperate hope +and disillusionment, hence the tragic epic, logically insane, of his +career. + +Whether Napoleon was right or wrong in the course he followed, his +idea was destined to dominate Europe throughout the nineteenth century +and to survive into the twentieth. With prophetic insight he charted +the later course Europe was to follow, and laid the foundations of +the personal Cæsarism of Mussolini and his followers, as well as +anticipating in his continental system of Confederations, the reverse +process that has led to the establishment of a League of Nations. But +with European nineteenth century history it is not the purpose of this +study to deal, nor even with the outward events of American and Russian +history, except insofar as each bears upon, reflects and alters the +course of the other. The history of Napoleon is, after all, neatly +parallelled by the history of those Israelite kings who, caught between +Egypt and the Assyrian empire, were forced to turn first against one +and then the other. Our concern here is rather with the two forces +beyond Europe’s frontier, now at work in Russia and in America; forces +that were increasingly to direct the destiny not of Europe alone, but +of the world. + + + + +BOOK II + + _“There is an organic logic, an instinctive and dream-sure logic of + all existence, as opposed to the logic of the inorganic, the logic + of understanding and of things understood--a logic of direction as + opposed to a logic of extension.”_ + + OSWALD SPENGLER, + “Decline of the West.” + + _“If the cause of the happiness of this country (America) was + examined into, it would be found to arise as much from the great + plenty of land in proportion to the inhabitants, as from the wisdom + of their political institutions.”_ + + ALBERT GALLATIN, + in the Congressional Debate + on The Land Bill of 1796. + + _“Why is it that in Europe those who call themselves Democrats + always stand for the people, or at any rate always rely on the + people, while our democrat is often an aristocrat, nearly always + supports that which oppresses the power of the people, and ends by + becoming a despot?”_ + + FEODOR DOSTOEVSKY, + commenting on the Pushkin Address, 1881. + + + + +Chapter V + + +Every race and every nation that has ever existed has achieved its +destiny only by selecting out of the many paths open to it, one path +peculiar to itself and following that, acquiring thereby the singular +virtue that is a particularity of that way of life, and of none other. +The choice of such a path is never either a deliberate act of will on +the part of a few individuals or of the great majority. It is due to +the operation of climatic, social, and political factors influencing +the capacity and environment of the race itself so that before we can +say what any organised body of men can achieve, we have to take into +consideration the place where they settle, the sort of work they are +best fitted to perform, and the psychological possibilities inherent +in the race itself. Thus we can say of the ancient Greeks that their +special virtue was a new kind of intellectual agility, due to their +position in a rocky and infertile peninsula, as small farmers and +shipmen; while to the east and south lay older and more long-settled +states which did not share the peculiar strain of adventurous daring +and natural sentiment that the original Dorian settlers possessed. The +Romans on the other hand, thanks to their genius for collective action, +as well as the necessity that was imposed on them from the outset of +conquering and ruling from fortified central hill-towns a more fertile +valley-land divided between warring and highly-varied racial stocks, +acquired early the virtues of discipline, loyalty, and legalism. The +ancient Hebrews, on account of their position as nomads, no less than +the constant proximity of the desert, together with the ever-present +fear of external conquest, developed into a race of religious seers, +prophets, and hard bargainers with the surrounding peoples, who +displayed greater resources of material power, but less spiritual +resource than they. Thus they acquired the mingled virtues of patience +and far-seeing desire for justice, and tempered their will to the +absolute to a higher degree than either Greeks or Romans. This method +of seeing each people not as an abstraction, but a living force, taking +and giving colour to its environment, could be applied with equal force +to all modern nations. + +Until we understand these psychological and ethical differences between +nations, and are able to follow them from the highest historical event +down to the daily life of the humblest individual, history is no more +than a mere recital of names and dates. Waterloo, Trafalgar, Bunker +Hill, Gettysburg, Tsushima and the Somme have no meaning unless we +understand that behind every man and gun engaged there move the forces +of unseen yet potent essences, swaying the result in their hands, now +in one way, now in another. Homer was essentially right, artistically +and philosophically, when he made his gods not only take an interest +in the fortunes of the Trojan War upon earth, but also ready to take +now one side, now the other, in that contest. It is of the nature of +humanity to hold fast to that good which it realises to be necessary, +in art as in life; and to seek to adjust both art and life to the +most obvious reaction to necessity of the single soul, or of the body +politic, under the underlying circumstances. Thus ethics and æsthetics +are, psychologically speaking, essentially one and the same, and +artistic or religious history is written fundamentally for a moral +purpose. Even a Gibbon, despite his scepticism, was unable to avoid the +moral implications of his theme in writing “The Decline and Fall.” + +Our problem here is not to settle the sociological differences +prevailing among the nations of Europe, but rather to examine the +peculiar psychology which has throughout controlled the behaviour +of the two great frontier states that at the end of the eighteenth +century began to react upon Europe’s destiny, Russia and North +America. What we shall have to say about North America here applies +also in the same measure to South America, in its interaction upon the +Latin-Mediterranean world; but in this respect it was North America +that was the teacher, and the Declaration of Independence that the +thirteen English-speaking colonies, which later formed the United +States, signed in 1776, was followed and copied thereafter throughout +the whole extent of both American continents. Both Russia and America, +in its most extreme and characteristic national form of the United +States, have existed long enough and have maintained, if not their +complete independence, at least their aloofness long enough to have +acquired psychological characteristics and virtues entirely different +from anything that European nations can show us. But if we go to the +pages of European historians, or even to European novelists, poets, +and philosophers prepared to ask the question: “What is an American, +a Russian? In what way do they differ from anything European or from +each other?”, we by no means obtain a satisfactory answer. The only way +we can deal with such a problem is by a direct envisagement first, of +all of the countries of Europe itself, in so far as they have common +characteristics; and second, of the conditions under which Russia and +America came to be what they are. + +Europe, psychologically speaking, is a great circle. The lower part +of this circle--and since the downfall of Pagan Rome, the less +creative, active and pioneering part--is coloured by the older +Latin-Mediterranean civilisation, which thanks to its conquest of +North Africa was able in antiquity to be the central force in European +progress, but which lost this actuality after the seventh century, +thanks to the uprise of Islam, and the renewed political power of the +Germanic race. During the Middle Ages, the actually dominant force +in Europe became the power of the northern half, and this Northern +half has been controlled by two forces:--the boundless practical +energy of the Teuton, the equally boundless intellectual curiosity +of the Celt. If we follow these forces around the circumference of +the circle which is Europe, through England, France, Spain, Italy, +Austria, Hungary, Poland, Scandinavia, Scotland and Ireland till +everywhere the boundaries merge with what is non-European,--be that +either Moor or Turk or Lapp or Finn or Firbolg or Basque--we see that +each European nation has grown up as a variation on the original +Celtic-Teutonic-Latin chord; and that each has precisely what the +other lacks, so that they complete each other. But this cannot be +said of the great congeries of peoples that inhabit the Russian plain +from the Baltic to the Black Sea. Here the original Slavonic--that +is to say largely Scandinavian and East-European element--became +overlaid with Tartar racial colour, to such an extent that only the +intellectual top stratum, not the sentimental race-basis underneath, +remained European. Nor can we define Northern America as fundamentally +European, either. Apart from the Spanish influence, which so completely +merged itself with the native Red Indian race and atmosphere as to +become inseparable from it, we find that in America everywhere the +original variations--such as French, Scottish, Scandinavian, English, +Irish,--have tended not to remain distinct but to mingle with each +other to such an extent that the result is a racial composite, +continually becoming more and more flexible, which is solely united +by common bonds of language and economic association, not of defined +racial instinct. The result is that only the diminishing appeal of old +sentimental association, not the fundamental present-day adjustment to +the situation, makes the American something akin to the European. In +order therefore to understand either America or Russia we have largely +to dismiss Europe as a culturally fixed entity from our minds, and +plunge into a wilderness of conflicting forces, guided only by the +sense of historical movement and by our knowledge of the course that +history has already taken, together with our instinct for soil and +scenery and climate. When we arrive at the goals we are seeking, we +will perhaps find that our most valuable tools will not after all be +the fine pencil of the artist, but the plough of the economist, the axe +of the social statistician. + + +2 + +The fundamental quality of the American took its origin at the outset +from an overwhelming passion for land. The innumerable shiploads of +people that have sped westward across the Atlantic from Columbus’ first +voyage, down to the latest ocean liner, have sought to find land, to +achieve land, to settle land, to overrun land, to subdue land. Even +the Indian tribes that inhabited that interior before the white man +came shared this feeling for land to a considerable extent. Most of +them were nomads, practising little agriculture, and incapable of any +lasting combination against the whites, because of their incurable +habit of appropriating the hunting grounds of their neighbours. The +most effective combinations, such as that of the Aztecs in Mexico or +the Iroquois in the northwest, were very active despotisms, continually +raiding the territory of weaker tribes and holding them to tribute. +The whites, on attaining America, as they penetrated the interior, +increasingly tended to drop their European powers of combination and to +take on the nomadism and the local jealousies of the savage. One sees +this in the eternal quarrels of the Spanish conquistadores over their +spoil, no less than in the struggles of the separate colonies that +preceded and continued throughout the Revolution, over the development +of the western territory. The Revolution itself was less a war to put +an end to British oppression than a successful attempt on the part +of the colonial landholding aristocracy to attain to an indefinite +expansion to the westward without British interference. It was directed +by Washington who was himself one of the largest landowners of the +period, and whose whole life was motivated by the passion for acquiring +new land, notably in the Ohio region. From the Revolution through the +Civil War and down to the fantastic scenes of the Florida land boom of +a few years ago, the passion for land has been the motive force--one +might almost say the virtue--of the great majority of Americans. For +land spells to them security, and security means wealth, and wealth +leads to power. The American race--if we can speak of such a thing--is +a race of land-seizers and land-exploiters. The sinister prominence of +the lawyer in American life, even on the frontier, from the beginning, +was due to the innumerable wrangles about land-grants and land-claims. +The entire subdual of the American continent by the whites, which took +barely fifty years to accomplish, was accompanied by such a waste of +the public domain as has been rarely paralleled in history. It is not +for nothing that America has been referred to over and over again in +the words of its orators and writers as “the land of promise,” “land of +the Pilgrim’s pride,” “land of the free and home of the brave,” “the +land of to-morrow.” One meets with something of the same sort for the +first time in the glowing accounts of Columbus and the earliest Spanish +explorers. + +The sensation which inspired these accounts that in America one finds +a fabulous and unexplored region of wealth, can still be experienced +by almost anyone making a voyage westward across the Atlantic. Owing +to the fact that the prevailing winds are westerly and that the Gulf +Stream runs east, the journey to this day, even under modern steamer +conditions, is frequently more rough and productive of discomfort than +the passage from America to Europe. The westward coasts of Europe drop +abruptly to the sea in great cliffs; the craggy coast of Cornwall, the +sombre cliffs of Ireland, the great headlands of Portugal and Spain. +Beyond that, there is nothing but waves and wind--wind always opposing +further progress. And America does not make its presence known, until +just before one reaches it. Two days before New York one encounters the +Gulf Stream, that strange region of low-lying clouds, of heavy rain +squalls, of intensely dark blue seas lifting and falling under crowns +of heavy white foam. These seas are weedy, and the gulls become more +frequent here, so that the whole has an effect of being a No Man’s +Land of fantasy, a world before the creation gave bounds to chaos, a +region where nothing is living except the ship. Then one comes out of +the Gulf Stream into greyer, shoal water. All the rest of the way lies +through shoals--long stretches of the sea more often shrouded in fog +than shaken by storms, flat, unstirring, that invite one ever further +and further onward. Europe is cut off, once and for all. The land--the +unknown land--is taking possession of us. And the first thing one sees +of this strange unknown region beyond Europe is a long empty sandbank, +inviting one further still. + +On the other hand, in travelling towards Russia, one has the impression +that the land itself, like the ocean on the trans-Atlantic voyage, +will never really come to an end. Long before one has finished rolling +over the monotonous Polish plain, Europe is left behind. The endless +distances, the sombre pine woods, the starveling villages, the scraggy +fields, simply succeed one the other. Before such a landscape one +has the fear of being cut off--of not being able ever to return to +habitable scenes. Napoleon must have faced such a feeling when he +hesitated on almost every stage of his journey to Moscow before going +on; and even when one has gone on and crossed the frontier, the plain +is still the same, the desolation and loneliness are only a little +more intense. There is no Russia, nothing but a frightful distance +of wilderness left behind which we must recross in order to find the +social compactness of Europe. One is sick of land, sick of these +endless horizons long before reaching Moscow, where at last one finds +Russia. And when one reaches Russia at last, the mysterious face of the +country is hidden behind the red walls of the Kremlin. + +The passion for land then which made America what it is, is not the +same passion that has made Russia what it is. Before the monotony +of Russia the educated Russian shrugs his shoulders, the uneducated +peasant spits. There is nothing here of the enthusiasm with which each +American tells you excitedly that his is “God’s own country.” Nothing +at all. The Russian is far more likely to assure you that his is “a +dark people” living in “an unhappy country.” The passion that moves the +Russian is at bottom something equally simple, and explicable, as the +passion that moves the American. It has different psychological roots, +and a different manifestation in form. But it isolates itself just as +completely from Europe as the American identification of land and +prosperity. + +The Russian craves for power. This is comprehensible when one +understands that Russia, with her enormous population, lay helpless and +powerless under the Tartar invasion from the twelfth century till the +sixteenth, when Ivan the Great and his successor, Ivan the Terrible, +took the first steps towards independence, and consolidation. And even +after that time, long after Russia had become a unified whole under +the sole sway of Moscow, there were very few with power sufficient to +keep this unity together. This is the true significance of the “time +of troubles” that followed Ivan the Terrible’s end. His remaining +legitimate son, a minor, was mentally incapable of rule; the choice of +the leading nobles, Boris Godunov, was strong and capable, but could +not prevail against the idea--rooted in the hearts of the people--that +the power of the Czar should descend in unbroken succession from one +anointed sovereign to the other. It was easy for a perfectly obscure +man to impersonate the legitimate heir (who was actually dead), obtain +Polish support, and finally by bargaining with the other nobles, who +were jealous of Boris, make himself Czar. The subsequent history of the +next twenty years reads like a nightmare. A succession of pretenders +to the throne uprose, in each case giving out that they were sons, +legitimate or illegitimate, of Ivan; and anarchy and disruption grew +so rapidly that in the end in Moscow itself the nobles took two sides, +now upholding one party, now the other. Only the intervention of the +Church itself--at that time and for long later revered by the peasant +and noble alike as being the one source of supernatural and united +power,--saved the country’s independence, and allowed the Romanov line +to ascend the throne. The same troubles broke out after Peter the +Great’s reign. Having put his only legitimate heir to death, Peter +announced that on each successive Czar after his time devolved the duty +of naming his own successor. But he himself died before he did so. +The result was a fresh series of impersonations, and more disorder, +which rose to a climax in Catherine’s reign, in the peasant rebellion +of Pugachev, a Cossack, who gave out that he was the legitimate Czar, +the husband murdered by Catherine’s orders, and moreover gave names of +well-known courtiers to his peasant officers. + +Thus, for over two centuries and a half, from the time when Ivan the +Great assumed the title of Czar of all the Russias at Moscow, down +to the time of Peter the Great, the idea had grown and spread in the +Russian mind that security, order, life and happiness itself were +dependent on the maintenance of power. This power was spiritual in +its essence; power to command and to be able to enforce one’s command. +That explains why successive pretenders to the throne, after Peter +the Great’s time, were at pains to have their cause blessed by some +prominent prelate of the “Old Believers,” the anti-reform party which +Peter himself had driven from the official Church, and which still +persisted despite his edicts. It also explains why in every Russian +house, before the Revolution, there was always to be found a shelf +containing icons. It is not that the Russian is more superstitious +than other people. It is simply because the saints are above all +miracle-workers. They have, it is felt, supernatural powers. They and +they alone can protect the sacred centre of the hearth from external +disorder. After the Revolution, when the saints were shown to be +powerless, the icons were taken down, and portraits of Lenin took +their place. The Russian, whether peasant or noble, reactionary or +revolutionary, seeks above all to command respect--and only the man +with unlimited power can do this, in his eyes. The hero of Dostoevsky’s +“Memoirs from the Underground” is illuminating in this respect. He is +ready to reject the offer of any Utopia, unless he is given the liberty +of “putting out his tongue at it,” and prefers to live in a hencoop +instead. The American would make no such mistake. He would live loyally +in the Utopia or the hencoop provided he were given a million dollars +or its equivalent in steel-works, oil or water power leases. + +It may perhaps be argued that the American of the present day has not +the same passion for land-exploitation that his forbears had, but is +apt, as in the above example, to lay stress on the importance of making +money, of doing “big business.” This, however, is due less to any +transformation of his original impulse than to the prevailing effect of +the industrial system. Stocks, bonds, and factories have simply become +substitutes for the broad acres of undeveloped fertility that his +forefathers knew. Despite them, few Americans continue to live in the +homes that their ancestors built. They are migrants, seeking something +else. What they seek is a place where they can really feel at home, and +this they cannot find without liberty and prosperity. Of that liberty +and prosperity an individual domain is the actual symbol. It is not for +nothing that so many wealthy Americans acquire old estates in Europe. +Here they can for the first time feel that they are part of a settled +land-tradition. They belong somewhere; they have a home, not simply +a piece of soil only differentiated from the surrounding prairie by +having a house on it. They are henceforth free to indulge their passion +for possession to the utmost. + +Power, then, means land, wealth, possessions to the American: to the +Russian it means simply absolute and arbitrary freedom to do as he +pleases. That is the psychological attitude that rules over the average +man in both cases. The average American believes himself to be a +product of “God’s own country” and only seeks an opportunity to prove +it; the average Russian believes himself accursed by fate and thwarted +by life, but is determined to make others respect his arbitrary whim. +And the intellectuals only differ from the average by the degree to +which they pursue these aims. It is impossible to show fully how this +is so without anticipating matter that, properly speaking, belongs to +another section of this study. We may however take two important and +highly illuminating examples to illustrate our thesis. + + +3 + +Let us take the case of the completely uprooted Russian and the +completely uprooted American. In such a case, if the obsession of +the two minds were towards power and land as we have just stated, we +should normally expect this obsession to be even more evident than it +is in the case of the stay-at-homes. The nineteenth century provided +two notable examples of this type, in the cases of Turgenev and Henry +James. Here were two men of high intelligence and artistic capacity who +spent their lives out of their respective countries. Since they were +nearly contemporaries (though Turgenev was the elder) and moneyed men +to boot, they practically came under the influence of the same type and +period of European civilisation; and there is also a close kinship in +their art, Turgenev having spent his life in refining upon the lyrical +realism of Gogol, while Henry James spent his in refining upon the +psychological realism of Hawthorne. Yet if we examine their careers +there is nothing that presents a greater contrast. + +The motive that guided Henry James was a search for a fatherland. +He sought deliberately to build himself into the scheme of social +relationships offered him by the country of his choice, which was +England. In order to satisfy this passion for possessing a country, he +set himself the task of assimilating the past of England, of which he +knew little, and forgetting the past of America, of which he knew much. +The result was that he fell into a cosmopolitanism which was neither +English nor American; which was intensely artificial since it was the +result not of the working of social, moral or religious factors, but +of an æsthetic parasitism. Since James was a highly conscientious +artist, he could not help making the most of this material, but its +indecisiveness, its detachment from the cruder but more essential +issues of life gradually sapped the source of the power with which he +presented it. Even the common kinship of language which had perhaps +chiefly appealed to him in taking up his residence in England, became +a treacherous double-edged weapon, to be handled gingerly, rather than +as an ally in this struggle. It has been said that Thomas Hardy once +remarked sardonically that Henry James when he wrote about Washington +Square wrote well, but that when he wrote about England, “did not +know the difference between a rectory and a parish.” James himself +probably felt this, and it explains his increasing apologeticalness, +his increasing love of qualification, which makes his later style so +much of a painful maze and puzzle. In the search for a country--a +country that could never be totally his and yet must be made his--he +sacrificed everything: vigour and directness, independence of judgment, +breadth of vision, even his own life. The desire to become part of +England became the ruling passion of Henry James’ life; it became so +engrossing as to wipe out of his mind all earthly love affairs, and to +assume the proportions of a grand passion, pursued with the ardor of a +specialist. He attained his end, but only to die. + +Turgenev did not go in this direction; he renewed by visits his own +sense of the physical appearance, the psychological reality of Russia. +But he sought just as persistently for some power greater than Russia +to which he might give himself. Ardently believing in freedom, liberal +in mind and in politics, he spent most of his life in revolt against +the crudeness and crassness of the Russian world he had known; nor was +he able to accept at its face value what the European State was ready +to put into its place, as his pamphlet, “The Execution of Troppmann” +bears witness. The only power, it seemed to him, was in the detached +individual; and this drew the aristocratic landowner Turgenev towards +the nihilists and the anarchists. He was the first to draw the portrait +of a nihilist in his novel, “Fathers and Sons.” This conclusion too +with its unsentimental realism, shocked Turgenev’s own conscience; with +the result that he became the great portrayer of indecisive souls, of +“superfluous men,” of hesitating, Hamlet-like, impotent characters +to be found in the whole range of Russian literature. His complete +erotic enslavement to the singer, Pauline Viardot, only increased +this tendency. Here was a power that at least was greater than his. +In his old age, in the “Dream-Tales” and “Poems in Prose,” Turgenev +became a confirmed pessimist, feeling that all power lay totally beyond +man’s grasp, in the divine indifference of nature and fate. Shortly +after a final visit to Russia, during which he was applauded by the +cosmopolitan literary salons, with their sentimental liberalism, but +critically attacked by the most powerful Russian writers of his own +generation, Turgenev died. + +There are other points of parallelism between these two remarkable +figures; such, for example, as the curious preference both displayed +for female characters. But enough has been said to show that the +power-land antithesis, which is here set down as the key to the +Russian and American character persists even in the most refined, +uprooted and highly subtle specimens of the race. If it persists in +these, what must its strength be in the most native and elemental +specimens? To find this question answered, the reader must turn to a +later section of this study, where the antithesis will be more fully +discussed in the works of Tolstoy and Whitman, Melville and Dostoevsky. +Meanwhile it is sufficient to note once again that this antithesis +is, in fact, a likeness. What the American and the Russian both seek +is essentially freedom to do what they like--the freedom of which the +American Jefferson wrote when he said the human being mostly wants to +be let alone. The Russian seeks this freedom by means of attempting +to despotically impose himself upon others; the American by means of +acquiring the wealth or the estate that will enable him to set himself +apart from his neighbours. The outer means only are different; the +tendencies in their inner nature are essentially the same, springing +as they do from an inner revolt against the modified “freedom in +restraint” discovered and practised in Europe. + + +4 + +Before quitting this side of our subject it may be worth while to +discuss one of the most notable examples of a revolter against this +European “freedom in restraint” which America has produced. I refer +not to Whitman, who indeed is an extreme though later and more logical +example, but to Emerson. For Emerson was the pioneer in the path that +Thoreau and Whitman later followed, and the more scholarly bent of his +mind, together with the philosophical tinge he was able to throw over +his doctrine, make of him a figure of supreme importance in American +literature. There is no parallel to Emerson in Russian literature, no +such single figure as he to paradoxically span the whole field of +thought and give tone and direction to all that followed. For as he was +on the one side pantheist mystic, upholding a contemplative ideal very +different from the feverish pioneer effort on every side about him, +so he was on the other side equally practical Yankee, foreshadowing +the “practical truth” of the Pragmatists, and preferring activity to +thought. + +The basis of his doctrine might be described in these words from the +longer of his two essays on “Nature”: “Why should not we also enjoy +an original relation to the universe? Why should we not have a poetry +and philosophy out of insight, not of tradition, and a religion by +revelation to us?... The sun shines to-day also. There is more wool and +flax in the fields. There are new lands, new men, new thoughts. Let us +demand our own works and laws and worship.” + +It must be noted that these “works and laws and worship” were all to be +derived afresh from nature by the Americans who--by the simple accident +of transporting themselves into a new and undeveloped country--were +suddenly going to find them out for themselves, without external help +from the past. Emerson’s own attitude towards the past is highly +paradoxical. In one breath, he admits that the past contains much +that is of value: Plato, and Jesus and other “representative men.” +But in the next, he repudiates utterly the lesson of the past and +declares the measure of history to be the ordinary man. Why? Because +the Americans were individualist pioneers, and far from toning down +their individualism, Emerson would make it still more acute. His chief +ethical doctrine is self-reliance to the uttermost. And self-reliance +to him meant in reality reliance on nature and external brute fact, as +it must in every pioneer and rapidly-developing community. In other +words, Emerson’s theory logically meant that the backwoodsman was +equally if not more important to the scheme of things than the sage, +the poet, and the scholar. It is true that Emerson tried to save his +own position as one of the best read men in America, by positing in +everyone’s breast a vague, mystical, and rather woolly “oversoul,” +which at its appropriate time and place would bend down and whisper in +the vulgarest being’s ear how much akin he was to Socrates or Marcus +Aurelius. But this check on his favourite self-reliance is altogether +the weakest and least important part of Emerson’s teaching and for its +obscurantism deserves to be ranked along with the infantile mystery +mongering of American pseudo-oriental cults and secret societies. + +In his soberer moments, Emerson did indeed realize that there were two +laws abroad in this world: the “law for man and the law for thing” and +that while the “law for thing” had much the best of it, in practical +affairs, it was destructive of human worth and dignity in the long +run. But unfortunately, he never decided in his own mind whether to +give his support to human dignity, or to the “law for thing” which was +having its own way in the America of which he wrote. So he salved his +conscience by supposing that nature would help his fellow-countrymen +to find their own laws. But so far as nature is concerned, man is +probably of less importance, certainly of far less permanence, than the +tree that stands in the midst of the field and sucks its life strength +directly from the bosom of the earth and the oceanic vastness of the +air. But man comes and cuts down the tree to build himself a cabin, and +when he has built it makes a law of a sort which nature never knew, to +the effect that no one who crosses its threshold shall ever come armed +to kill him, and that the woman who sleeps with him on its wolf-pelt +bed for one night shall remain to serve him and his needs both night +and day. That is the law for the man, and it goes on, whether the wind +that rocked the tree, lays flat the cabin, or the earth that suckled it +swallows it up. Yet Emerson fondly supposed that some wonderful new +law could be made by simply transporting man out of a peasant’s cottage +that had stood for centuries in Europe, and giving him a log hut in the +wilderness. He flattered the vanity of the Americans, by telling them +that their prosperous growth would not only develop the body but the +soul. It was a false theory, doing incalculable harm. + +Emerson’s philosophy was entirely a philosophy for pioneers and with +the vanishing of the pioneer type its influence and the influence +of the vague mystical land-hunger of the frontier--that marvellous +realm where wonderful things were always to be done, but never +accomplished--began to diminish in American life. Yet with its +insistence on individual self-reliance and on possession, Emerson +struck the keynote of the American philosophy of to-day with its +“go-getter” shrewdness, its refrain of “getting as much as you can +and giving as little as you can,” its assumption of superiority based +on individual cunning, its vague and pernicious subsidiary hankering +for what is mysterious and occult and esoteric, whereby its crudeness +is leavened. All this America owes to one man, to Emerson, and it is +obvious that we must forgive this man the enormous damage he did by +recollecting continually, how just before his day, America had passed +through the most inchoate period of her national development, a period +of democratic chaos, out of which neither an intelligent institution +nor an organized political state could have evolved had it not been for +the conservative moneyed classes. Let us also remember that Emerson, in +his private capacity, loved chiefly to appear as a scholar, in order to +distinguish himself from the community; much as Tolstoy, in his desire +to set himself apart, loved to pose as a peasant and wear birch-bark +shoes. + + + + +Chapter VI + + +Nothing is more illuminating of the contrasted power-land psychology +prevailing in Russia and America than the attitude taken up by both +nations in regard to the difficult and insistent problem of the +Jews. Since the beginning of Christianity, the Jews have been both +powerless and landless; whether in their dispersal they have aimed +at reattaining power or at reattaining land is a question that at +first sight seems almost impossible to answer. A certain amount of +knowledge of Jewish social conditions is necessary before we can even +begin to find the reply. The great Dispersal, following upon the fall +of Jerusalem, led the rabbis who thereby became in fact as well as in +theory, the heads of the people, to concentrate the attention of their +fellow-religionists on one point; a thorough understanding and detailed +obedience to the Law. The compilation of the Talmud, that strange +heterogeneous commentary, was the immediate result. As regards the +possession of land, all hopes that the Jew might have in that respect +were relegated to the distant future, when the Holy Land, by some +miracle, would be restored to him. The teaching of the rabbis was, +that to maintain his status as a Jew, every member of the community +must, above all, observe the law in the minutest particulars; beyond +this, he could hold any political creed he liked. Jehovah would restore +Zion to him in due time without his making an effort to attain it. + +The later development of Judaism has in the main followed out this +principle. Zionism as a political faith has never been highly popular +amongst better-class Jews, and may be said to appeal mostly to those +who are least patient of the moral and intellectual despotism forged +by the rabbi-class throughout the Middle Ages to maintain their order. +Zionism often goes hand in hand with dangerously unorthodox political +and religious theory. It appeals more to the Chassid mystic, than to +the orthodox rationalist. The Jews who survived the Dispersal and the +early persecutions of the Romans, tended continually to become more +and more members of large city populations, handcraftsmen, traders, or +bankers, on the eve of the Middle Ages. During that period, the process +of making the Jews a parasitic, financial class, was accelerated. The +one trade that the Middle Ages left to them was that of jeweller or +money-lender. Progressive persecution, the need to keep all wealth in +movable form, the eternal migration from one country to another, more +and more concentrated the mind of the race on movable capital as a +source of power. Except for a few Ghettos, contemptuously permitted, +the Jew had no land. + +The history of the Jews in Russia properly begins with Catherine’s +partition of Poland and the consequent establishment of the Pale +of Settlement in 1791. From that time on it has been a tale of +uninterrupted oppression and persecution. This oppression and +persecution was carried to fantastic lengths not only by the Czars +themselves but still more by their subjects. Pogroms were openly +applied to the unfortunate Jews by successive governments under +Alexander III and Nicholas II. It is now generally admitted that +these attacks were carried out by the armed population, with the open +connivance and aid of police officers. The military authorities in many +cases unsuccessfully protested against the inflammatory pamphlets, +underground propaganda, and other methods employed by the police +and the Ministry of the Interior to bring these massacres about. +Pogroms were, therefore, though encouraged from above, unmistakably +mob-movements and as such, in the overcrowded Jewish Pale, highly +popular. They corresponded to something essential in the character +of the Russian people themselves--an intense hatred and suspicion of +the Jew, combined with a desire to seek a scapegoat for intolerable +conditions of taxation and oppression.[1] + +This suspicion arose undoubtedly through fear of the power the Jewish +race might possess if allowed to live and flourish in impunity. +The talk of “ritual murder” which motivated many pogroms was but a +symptom of this underlying belief common to the illiterate Russian +masses that the Jew had some hypnotic magic ability that set him apart +from other men. The fact that the Jews were highly literate, that +they frequently adopted the profession of doctors, money-lenders, or +something analogous--requiring brain work--struck the Russian peasant +as peculiar. His favourite receptacle of mystic power was the orthodox +Church, and above the Church the Czar, whom the Church alone could +sanctify. The Jew rejected the Church; in consequence, the Czar had +confined him in the Pale, and by successive edicts, forbidden him even +to attend the universities and obtain an education. The reason must be +that the Jew had some power greater than the Czar, the church, and even +God. He must be in fact, an ally of Satan. The pogrom followed as a +matter of course, and the most intense nationalism became allied with +the most rabid anti-Semitism. + +When the régime of the Czars collapsed in the Revolution of 1917, +and the Bolsheviks came into power, it was noted by many that among +these Bolsheviks were several that were Jews. That Lenin himself was +a Jew--adopted by a family of provincial nobles to take the place +of a son lost in infancy--became one of the legends soon spread by +enemies of the new régime. There was however no evidence of this, and +the Jewish members of the new political party into whose hands Russia +fell, were not less hostile to Judaism in the orthodox sense than to +any other religion. And this naturally so, for the rabbis had again and +again insisted that only God Himself had the power and the ability to +deliver His people, and restore their sway. The later development of +the Bolshevik revolution has shown once again that the Russian people +have an instinctive hostility to everything Jewish in tone. The Jewish +members of the Soviet Council have been progressively eliminated, or +passed over; so that in Russia to-day the influence of Jewish ideas +is less than it ever was. Even Marx, whose theories gave Lenin his +impetus, is considered to-day less important than Lenin; and there +is growing an increased cult for Darwin and Ford rather than Marx +within the bosom of the Bolshevik party. The Bolshevik movement has +been in its essence, the development of an heretical religious faith, +based on the creed of Western naturalism and utilitarianism of the +Darwin-Herbert Spencer type. As such it is equally hostile to orthodox +Christianity or to orthodox Judaism. + + +2 + +The attitude of the American colonies towards the Jewish emigrants who +came to them was the very reverse of this. From the first settlements +of Jews in Newport, Charleston, Savannah, New York, these exiles were +allowed to take positions of honor and affluence. There has never been +a Ghetto in American life, and the only Ghettos that exist have been +created fairly recently by housing conditions and by the overcrowding +of some of the great Eastern cities. The Jews were among the most +prominent supporters of the American Revolution itself; and there +is irony as well as illumination in the fact that the one man who +may be said with truth to have founded the Federal Union, Alexander +Hamilton, was possibly half a Jew.[2] The fact that America supplied +a land of promise to the Jew, from the days when Cromwell first tried +toleration down to the present, has been tacitly admitted by the +increasing tide of Jewish emigration that has gone on from 1660 down +to the present day. The one thing that has possibly restrained it has +been the fact that the Jews are no longer fitted for an agricultural +life, but are apt to become members of those large-town mobs which +Jefferson and the other founders of the Republic so profoundly hated, +and which now represent so large a proportion of American society. A +few attempts were made by the colonies at the beginning to keep the +franchise from the Jews; but apart from that fact, there has been no +organised opposition to Jewish influence on the part of any class of +the community down to the close of the Great War. + +The result is that the Jews, indifferent to land, have concentrated +more and more on the element which the early American neglected: the +element of power. The uprise of the Jewish power in America took +place during the great change from agricultural to industrial life +that coincided with the Civil War and which developed into the famous +“gilded age” of the seventies. During that period the Jewish community +in the New World split into two classes. The upper class became those +who, through the power conferred on them by wealth, grew more and more +closely allied to the dominant financier class, and became thereby more +and more closely American, abandoning the two qualities that had made +them specifically Jewish: the intense particularism of their creed +which had made them consider themselves a race set apart by God, and +the not less intense determination to remain a separate nation though +exiled and scattered among other nations. The lower class, increasing +at a great rate after 1880, when Alexander III began his long reign +of oppression in Russia, brought with them to America nothing but an +ingrown determination to stay what they were: and it is only among them +that anywhere in America to-day one can find that “mystic quality” that +in the words of Waldo Frank, makes the Jew what he is, and which once +lost, destroys his Judaism. + +The Reform Movement in Judaism, as a double attack on the intolerant +particularism of the Jewish faith as the one faith blessed by God, +and on the sentiment of Jewish nationalism alike, owes its success +entirely to the support given by American rabbis in 1885. The greater +part of the wealth of the American Jewish community has gone to the +support of Reform Judaism. That this form of the Jewish faith is merely +a transition stage, and unsatisfying after all to the human desire to +live within the ordered limits of an absolute faith, which the Jews +have felt perhaps more profoundly than any other people, is shown +by the drift of many intelligent and unworldly-minded adherents of +reformed Jews out of their faith into Christian Science, theosophy, or +any one of the dozens of fantastic cults that flourish in America. The +only thing that Reform Judaism has given the American Jew is a feeling +that his forefathers were on the wrong track, not that he is on the +right one. When his faith becomes merely a local peculiarity, to be +tolerated as any other local peculiarity is tolerated, and no longer +_the_ faith, sole, absolute, and eternal; when his citizenship becomes +not a question of kingship in Zion but of possessing a vote and paying +taxes to the latest corrupt political gang that happens to be governing +America, then the Jew is alike homeless and rudderless, an atom in the +modern chaos. He has no longer unified personality nor spiritual power +of any kind. He is only a cog in an immense machine that does not move +in any direction, but which simply goes around and around, grinding +human lives and hopes to dust in the process. + +The paradox of American Judaism is that America, by liberating the +Jew, has completely destroyed him. The paradox of Russian Judaism is +that Russia by oppressing the Jew, has only intensified his original +character. Zionism appeals to the Russian Jew mainly, and it is largely +through the support of Russian Jewish colonisation that Zionism is now +being tried out in Palestine. The Russian Jew in poverty has kept his +legends, his folk poetry, his contact with a mystic patrimony given +him by Moses. Moreover, the Russian revolution, with its consequent +liberation of the Jew from the old constraint, has enriched Russian +literature with a new strain of Jewish genius, reflected alike in +such works as Ansky’s “Dybbuk” and Babel’s “Horse Army.” The American +Jew on the other hand, to the degree that he becomes more wealthy and +powerful, becomes less intellectual, and usually pretends to despise +his own people. One finds dozens of Americans who quite obviously are +racially of the Semitic type, and who socially and religiously are at +but one remove from the faith of the Ghetto, ready to assert their +anti-Semitism. And even among those who still retain some vestiges of +respect for the attitude of their forefathers, one finds an increasing +disposition to mingle in the ranks of Gentile society, and to handle +facetiously the topic of their own race and religion, as if it +represented only a passing craze of the remote past, which they have +fortunately outgrown. As regards imagination, they tend increasingly to +respect the shibboleths of American business life. + + +3 + +The attitude of the average American, the “one hundred per center” +of the middle west and the industrial east, who is and must remain +the backbone of America culturally and socially, towards the Jewish +phenomenon, has considerably varied during the most recent years. To +this average individual nothing has mattered since the Civil War, so +long as the country remained prosperous. So long as his land bore +“bumper crops,” capable of being sold at high prices, so long as the +“melting pot,” by laying the stress on the Jew’s adaptability, went on +functioning properly, and transforming mediæval mystics and fanatics +into modern business men, all was well; no thinking about the future +was necessary. It is natural to the American temperament--a “free +soil” temperament long before Lincoln’s day--having linked up land and +liberty as it has done, not to wish to worry about the future, not to +do any more thinking than is absolutely necessary. Thinking is indeed +dangerous. It may lead to a suspicion that the Revolution was a mistake +and that the Constitution was only a new form of tyranny. America’s +awakening in this respect to a whole world of intimate problems that +she must settle, came for the most part, only after President Wilson +told his people that they must enter the World War. And then America +suddenly realised that the Jews had a great deal of power as well as +a great deal of cleverness, and were likely to use both for ends that +were far from being “one hundred per cent” American. + +The resultant wave of anti-Semitism that swept the United States +was something practically unique in American history. There had +been before outbreaks of anti-Jewish feeling, notably in some of +the Southern States, but nothing of this nationwide character. From +mob-outrages engineered by the revived Ku Klux Klan to the declaration +of lofty Harvard University that it proposed to limit the number of +Jewish students, the campaign of hatred swept the country for a few +months, and then dissolved in a gale of laughter. It represented +nothing fundamental to the American character and temperament. It +undoubtedly arose from a feeling of suspicion that the cunning Jew +might intellectually be opposed to the American Constitution, which +is considered as the sacrosanct basis of American faith, much as the +Egyptian “Book of the Dead” was considered the sacrosanct basis of +Egyptian faith. Moreover, the Jew might secretly be in sympathy with +some of the dangerous anarchistic or other radical doctrines that had +recently come into such prominence, thanks to America’s deep-rooted +and insuperable objection to the war. The coming and passing of this +momentary wave of anti-Semitic sentiment coincided curiously in date +and duration with the period during which Russia, having cast off her +old values and not yet settled in her new ones, elevated many Jews, +who happened to be members of the victorious Communist party, to power. + + +4 + +The case is quite different when we come to the Catholics. Successive +Russian sovereigns from Catherine the Great who offered asylum to the +expelled Jesuits, down to the present day have shown partiality to +the Catholic faith; and to this day the Bolsheviks, in their war on +religion, have left the Catholic church largely undisturbed, hoping +perhaps to gain recruits to atheism out of the conflict between the +rival sects of Catholic and Orthodox.[3] This toleration of Catholicism +was formerly partly due to the fact that in Poland and Livonia, the +Czar ruled over thousands of Catholics; partly to the law that forbade +anyone born in the Orthodox faith to become a convert, on penalty of +exile and loss of estate. But in America a passionately intolerant +anti-Catholic feeling has existed since, at least, the New England +Colonies opposed James II and his nominee, Andros, and has known +numerous revivals since the “Native American” movement began opposing +the extension of the franchise to the Irish immigrant back in the +thirties. Economically and socially it has persisted, and even spread +from New England to the south and west. This anti-Catholic feeling +provides the basic strength of the recent post-war revival of the Ku +Klux Klan. And during the period while this book was being written, its +strength was again successfully tested in an important presidential +contest. + +The fundamental American feeling about Catholicism is that it +forms, politically an _imperium in imperio_; that by its insistence +on parochial schools, instead of the usual public schools, by its +establishment of convents, monasteries, church-owned foundations, +everywhere, it becomes an extra-political power, secret in its methods, +ready to invade the United States from within and seize the better +part of her domain. This belief (whether it has any foundation in fact +or not is not material to this inquiry) has been largely strengthened +by the extraordinary solidarity of the Catholic communities in the +industrial regions, composed as they are, mainly of toiling foreigners; +and by the redoubtable power of ecclesiasticisms further southward, in +Mexico. Whether this feeling about the Catholic church is destined to +disappear--now that Mexico has an anti-clerical government, and even +the Vatican itself has taken on a Republican tone--is, for the moment, +uncertain; but there is no possibility of writing an intelligent +history of America without reference to its existence. A profound +distrust of Catholicism as a secret body subversive of Americanism +has again and again shown itself to be a mainspring of American +middle-class action. It explains a very great deal that is highly +popular in America, from the flourishing condition of freemasonry and +other semi-secret societies, down to the zeal for closing the saloons, +which were favourite meeting places for that purely Irish and Catholic +creation, the ward politicians. Now and again, as in the “Native +American” movement above mentioned, the later “Know-Nothing” movement, +the cry “Rum, Romanism, and Rebellion,” the revived Ku Klux Klan, the +opposition to Governor Smith, it shows itself openly in the field of +political life. + +The complete reason for the toleration of Catholicism under Czar and +Bolshevik alike, in Russia, in the very heart of a community that +in numbers at least has been openly the chief rampart of Eastern +Orthodoxy for centuries, and for the mistrust of the same faith +shown in America, despite the fact that America can boast of a large +percentage of Catholics, can only be discovered by examining more +fully the underlying attitude of the Russian and the American to all +religion. It suffices to say here that, to the American, Republicanism, +that is to say the liberty gained by local prosperity and by complete +ownership of one’s own property, is more important than any other form +of religion; while under successive Russian governments, Autocracy, +rooted in communal feeling, and in unworldly faith, has since the time +of Peter the Great at least, directed religion towards the ends it +proposed for itself. It is the considered opinion of most intelligent +observers that the Bolshevik government, in this respect, has acted +precisely as the governments that preceded it. It has warped religion +to its own ends; or, rather, it has created an altogether new religion +out of a few phrases of Marx and the life and example of Lenin. It is a +mummified body--Lenin from his mausoleum in the Red Square--that rules +Russia to-day. After all, did he not wear a peasant’s cap, and did +he not order electric light to be extended to every village, besides +giving the common workman bread, peace, and liberty? The cult of Lenin +as a new saint, or rather as a new Messiah, has some curious sides. +But the most curious side of all is to note how little distinguishes +this figure from the celebrated figure of Christ wandering as “a serf +throughout the Russian land, blessing it,” that so much inspired the +early Slavophils. Meantime the Central Presidium of the Soviet--the +new Autocrats of Russia--having achieved this version of Orthodoxy, +uses its power to persecute successfully the followers of every former +religion. + + + + +Chapter VII + + +There is a certain obvious parallel between religion in North America +and religion in Russia, because both countries are, and have been, for +centuries, fundamentally Christian. Yet the dissimilarities on the face +of it, are so manifest that it might seem to a visitor from another +planet that the religious life of the two countries sprang from sources +as opposed as the religion, let us say, of Ancient Egypt and Ancient +Assyria. What American Christianity accepts, Russian Christianity +rejects, and vice versa. + +In both lands, Christianity came from without, and was an entirely +foreign creed to the animism practised by the natives before its +advent. But where American Christianity emerged from what has been +called Protestantism, that is to say the right of the individual +to decide on questions of faith for himself, Russian religion came +from the Orthodoxy of the Byzantine church, with its submission of +the individual intelligence to a super-personal, wonder-working +power transmitted by consecration from patriarch to patriarch. The +differences in form and outward observance all spring from an inner +difference in psychological attitude. To the American, the soul of +the individual believer is alone important, and his salvation is the +one desirable aim; to the Russian the communion of believers is alone +important, and the individual soul only retains his hold on salvation +by virtue of his complete adherence and loyalty to it. Consequently +in America, religion exalts the moral standard of the individual good +life; in Russia it upholds the spiritual standard of the communal +believing life. The one exalts conduct, the other faith. + +It has not escaped the notice of shrewd historians that the American +makes a constant attempt to prove that his great men were intensely +moral and respectable in character. Washington is exalted above +Jefferson on the basis of a few legends like that of the cherry tree +or the other story, not less unhistorical, to the effect that the +great Revolutionary leader prayed at Valley Forge. Paine, who by his +inspired polemic probably did more to precipitate the Revolution than +any other publicist of the time, is tacitly ignored as being “a dirty +little atheist.” Recently, attempts have been made to show that Lincoln +was exaltedly religious; attempts that rest on exceedingly flimsy +foundations. And if Woodrow Wilson maintains any favour in America, it +will be rather because of his unbending Presbyterianism than because +of his eminent ability as a statesman. It is because Roosevelt, his +great rival, upheld the motto of “Fear God and take your own part” and +led the life of the normal husband and father, that he is immensely +popular among millions of his fellow-countrymen to-day. + +The Russians go to the exactly opposite extreme. Their heroes are +precisely those whose lives were heroic examples of disregard of moral +conduct. Ivan the Terrible, blood-soaked, sensual, and incapable of +achieving any faith beyond the basest superstition; Peter the Great, +mocking the church-ceremonies with drunken parody, making and unmaking +patriarchs, the accursed Antichrist of the Old Believers; Pugachev, +the outlaw who despoiled nobles and monasteries alike; Tolstoy, the +great heretic and excommunicate, such are the sort of men Russia +unconsciously honours. Against them the Church can put nothing in the +field but a handful of monks and thaumaturgists. + +That morals can be separated from faith has been consistently denied +throughout the history of European Christianity, by some of the most +intelligent men that European Christianity has produced. Whether this +denial is valid or not, there can be no doubt that Nature in itself is +morally indifferent, just as it is æsthetically indifferent. One can, +unfortunately, believe in life without believing in any specific moral +code; and the result is that what we call Christianity has been divided +into warring sects, those that exalt the observance of the feasts and +sacraments prescribed by the Church above moral discipline, and those +that exalt the achievement of lofty moral character above all feasts +and ceremonies. The former in the main, is the way taken by Russia; +the latter the way taken by America. In Russia one asks first whether +so-and-so is a believer or an atheist; in America whether so-and-so is +or is not “a good man.” + + +2 + +Every religious system (not excluding polytheism) defines Godhead +now in terms of outward nature, now in terms of man’s own inner +comprehension of himself. Religion is the meeting-place of objective +fact and subjective psychology; it is therefore the most comprehensive +and at the same time the least definable of all human activities. +Until we understand this fact we are in the position of a great many +nineteenth century free-thinkers, who for the life of them could not +understand why people should want to make such a pother about religion +when they could build factories instead of cathedrals, and amass +worldly wealth instead of seeking for the kingdom of heaven. To such +people, religion in itself seemed too childish and unprogressive to +be considered important. As a matter of fact, it was precisely these +nineteenth century materialists and unbelievers who were childish in +their faith in human progress, as the Great War proved. + +Religion, in its most complete sense, might almost be defined as the +“most complex and mature attitude it is possible to take towards +reality.” This attitude comes from a fusion of all our faculties: +animal as well as intellectual, moral as well as æsthetic, individual +as well as social; organised on the plane of the individual will. This +fusion combines the boundless and at bottom irrational faith in life +that must guide us if we are to live at all, with the limited and +rational faith in a common moral code of conduct. It is because of +this combination of opposites that religion exists in some measure, +even among the irreligious; while the most highly religious being only +achieves it imperfectly. It attempts to reconcile both the absolute and +the relative, the single individual’s relation to the infinite, with +man’s whole relation to society. + +From such a standpoint, both Russia and America have been incompletely +religious. In the one case, religion has relied altogether on its +thaumaturgic power over nature. One gets an impression, from reading +much Russian history, that the whole people have spent most of their +lives for centuries in making pilgrimages, praying to icons, visiting +monasteries, crying “Christ is risen!” on each successive Easter Day, +despite the fact they were living all the time in inimitable dirt, +disorder, oppression, and misery. Russian literature, being, for the +most part, an intellectual revolt against the pre-intellectual instinct +that dictated these practices, and aiming also for the most part at a +source of power that is far beyond the grasp of religious semi-magic +ritual, has largely disregarded these plain obvious facts, but they +remain in history. When we read that in Catherine the Great’s day, +the Moscow mob raised riots because the government proposed to remove +from its place a celebrated wonder-working image of the Madonna,[4] +at the foot of which the people were dying of cholera in heaps; when +we read that, in the revolution of 1905, one of the heroes was Father +Gapon who led the starving and striking mob into the square before the +Winter Palace, and bade them kneel there, where they were promptly +shot down by the Czar’s troops (it later transpired that Father Gapon +was an _agent provocateur_ in government employment); when we read +of the enormous prestige of Rasputin, then we realise that to every +Russian religion is something vast, mysterious, miracle-working. +Only Dostoevsky has brought out this quality of the Russian mind; his +great work, “The Brothers Karamazov,” essentially defines the attitude +towards God of all its characters. And God is primarily to all, power, +a force divorced from good or bad alike, that which will give each of +these characters the desires of his own heart. Even old Karamazov, +monster of immorality that he is and incapable of any redeeming action, +in this sense worships God. + +One is even more impressed at this emphasis on the magic power of +religion made by the Russian mind, when one realises that the Church +not only blessed the fields, agricultural implements and cattle +of the peasants in the past, but also, according to Tolstoy, the +government-owned vodka factories and the brothels. So strong was the +feeling that religion gave to its professors a power of superhuman +and super-moral healing and blessing, that a Rasputin could under the +cloak of religion, carry on his shameless erotic practices undisturbed. +The feeling that everything in religion was necessarily sacrosanct, +accounts also for the rise of the Old Believers, who could not accept +Peter the Great’s and the Patriarch Nikon’s reform of the spelling of +the Church books. The Church, even in its errors, was so much above the +world that the world must not interfere with it. The Word of the Church +was sacred, and must be held so at whatever cost to logic. + +The typical Russian peasant would therefore have agreed with Blake that +“everything that lives is holy” without adding thereto the corollary +that the tradition of the Church was not a living thing, but was merely +a dead tradition stifling the free spirit of independent inquiry. And +even the thorough-going attack on religion and the Orthodox Church +engineered by the Bolsheviks, has partaken of the same fanatic faith in +the magic power of rites and phrases. The body of Lenin was substituted +for saints and icons; and faith in Marxian formulas took the place of +faith in Church ceremonies. We will not understand Bolshevism if we +continue to think it irreligious. In all essentials it is simply a new +religion--or if one prefers, a new heresy. It is rooted in the same +fanatic faith in magic practices that the Russian mind has everywhere +displayed, from the time that Ivan the Great spoke of the _pallium_ of +Rome being transferred to Moscow. + + +3 + +We are accustomed to think of America as primarily the land of +religious toleration; but we are apt to forget that this toleration was +only born after nearly a century of complete intolerance, in which +New England itself, then at the head of American colonial effort, took +the lead. The American historian, Brooks Adams, in his “Emancipation +of Massachusetts,” has given us a useful summary of this period, +dating from the foundation of the Massachusetts Colony down the eve +of the Revolution; and has shown us how the founders of New England, +Endicott, Winthrop, and the rest, aimed at a thorough-going theocracy +which would permit neither religious dissent nor liberty of conscience. +The tale of executions, whippings, imprisonments, outrages and threats +executed upon unfortunate Antinomians, Quakers, Episcopalians, and +other sects dissenting from the “established faith” of New England +Congregationalism makes painful reading. + +As a matter of fact, American toleration rests and always has rested +on respect for established property rights. The Puritans who founded +New England had obtained a charter from the King enabling them to make +a settlement in Massachusetts territory. They constrained this to mean +that no other opposing Protestant sect would be allowed either to enter +or to preach in their territory; while the Catholics in Maryland, +the Episcopalians in Virginia behaved not very differently. Their +religion became to them the symbol of their possessions--possessions +that they guarded jealously not less against all Indian attempts to +recover them, but against Royal and Parliamentary interference alike. +The result was that it was only such sentimental deists as Jefferson, +or such sentimental Quakers as Franklin, who realised the necessity +for toleration. They were in a minority. To most Americans religious +toleration has been but a phrase for moral intolerance. + +To this day in America, great educational foundations which enjoy +enormous endowments, prestige, and power, are outwardly identified +with certain religious sects. Nothing can be taught in them except +what these sects prescribe as “moral.” To the traveller in America, +interested in education, it is often puzzling to be told that such and +such a university has a chapel to which all students are compelled to +go, although they may subscribe to some totally different religious +creed. Thus Princeton is Presbyterian; Yale, Congregational; the +University of Chicago, Baptist; Vanderbilt and dozens of other southern +colleges, Methodist; and so on. The non-sectarian college or university +is the exception, rather than the rule. And that is because religion +and moral teaching go hand in hand. + +The American, it must be understood, maintains the attitude of +complete inner spiritual liberty only at the price of outward moral +conformity. In this respect he stands at precisely the opposite +pole to the Russian, whose steady maintenance of inner spiritual +obedience is frequently belied by furious outward revolts in the +direction of complete moral license. Each has one half of a religion +and each neglects the fact that every lasting religious body is a +great compromise between the external and internal character of man, +representing alike an outward discipline and an inner assent. To the +American the assent is all that matters, not the discipline. Thus even +so respectable a member of the Catholic faith as Governor Alfred Smith +of New York could recently declare that he believed in the complete +separation of the Church and State, and assert that the Church had +no right to interfere with politics, without realising that in thus +upholding the private assent of the citizen above all religious +discipline, he completely destroyed the ancient Roman Catholic +opposition to right of private judgment and thereby fully justified the +long revolt of Protestantism. + +In such a state as America presents to the world, religion becomes a +question not of “By what power is God going to save me?” but of “How +am I to behave, so as to do right?” This question lies at the root of +the American conscience. If England is, as Frenchmen have said, the +land of moral fog, America is the land of moral blindness. It has not +escaped foreign observers that America is ruled by sermons and by +preachers. Here, indeed, American literature has little to reveal to +us, as Russian literature has little to say about peasant superstitions +concerning icons and saints’ days.[5] But from Jonathan Edwards to +Channing, from Channing to Henry Ward Beecher, from Beecher down to the +recent Billy Sunday and Aimee McPherson, all America--vulgar as well +as intelligent--waits every Sunday morning on its favourite preacher +in order to obtain moral guidance for the ensuing week in its affairs. +The sermon is to the American what the sacrament and the benediction +is to the Russian--a special talisman, something enabling him to carry +on his life, get his business done, clear up his relations with women, +regulate his activity. Hence the enormous popularity in recent America +of sermons dealing with the conduct of one’s business. Hence the +upholding of Jesus and the Apostles as typical “go-getters” and even +efficiency experts; the culmination of which is in such a recent book +as “The Man Nobody Knows” where Christ becomes the prototype of the +typical American advertisement agent! + +The typical American therefore conceives of everyone as being “free and +equal” in Jefferson’s phrase without adding thereto the corollary that +everyone should be free to behave as it pleases him. On the contrary, +the more you meddle with your neighbour’s conduct the better for both +him and you. The Americans tend more and more to substitute “uplift” +in the place of religion--and the hankerings of the mystically-minded +(mostly the least literate and least economically independent, +therefore the least powerful) among them, pass unheard. Most Americans +would readily subscribe to Mark Twain’s dictum that man is “worthless +unless he is regulated,” and far from agreeing with Matthew Arnold +that conduct is three-fourths of life, they would make conduct all of +it. The belief that has emerged out of such a creed, resolutely held, +may be briefly summarised as a faith that the increase of business, +higher wages, and more prosperity on the American model will definitely +save the world. This belief has already its apostles, chief of whom +is perhaps Henry Ford. It, like Bolshevism, is a heresy, which we +must nevertheless reckon with as America’s chief contribution to the +solution of the great religious problem which vexes the world. Instead +of demanding that the oppressed proletarians everywhere must unite +to conquer the world, it says simply, “Make your fortune quick. In +prosperity lies happiness.” + + +4 + +It is impossible to leave this subject of religion and of America’s +and Russia’s peculiar angle of approach to it, without some reference +to the reciprocal influence America and Russia have had on religion +as practised in Europe. For both countries obtained their religions +ultimately from this source, though in the one case it was Byzantine +Orthodoxy that was borrowed, while on the other, it was Puritanic +Northern Protestantism. + +To the average American any European form of religion is not good +enough. He demands a standard of conduct that is morally speaking, +egalitarian. What shocks him in religion as practised in European +countries is its disregard of the standards of living that he is +accustomed to at home. The picturesque dirt and disorder of Italian +lazzaroni, Spanish beggars, the promiscuity of English slums, the +grossness of German or Dutch peasants--all this shocks him as a +manifestation of moral blindness. He would gladly see all these peoples +washed, sanitated, above all made literate: his own respect for “law +and order,” shown in the popularity of sermons, is proof of this. +The ideal of useful citizenship which he maintains as substitute for +the mystic experience of Godhead, or the no less mystic experience +of repentance and reconciliation, makes him intolerant of any creed +that refrains from interference with the individual. His insistence +upon moral conduct has made him frequently uncharitable to his own +neighbours--as anyone who has lived for long in an American small town +can testify. This uncharitableness he extends in even fuller measure +to the stranger within and without his gates. The hordes of European +immigrants that come into his own country, the hosts of unwashed and +unregenerate foreigners without are not respectable--they do not +regulate their lives by his standards. His solution of the problem +upholds a great hope, but it is a hope without charity. + +The average Russian, on the other hand, looks on European religion as +deficient not in goodness, but in truth. Catholicism has merely become +a branch of state-service, and Protestantism is too deeply tainted +with moral hypocrisy. But what is important to the Russian to know is +this; whether it is true that by any sacrament, prayer, or magic ritual +men become united to God? Is it true that Christ really did rise from +the dead for all mankind and manifests himself to them? Then let us +make trial of that possibility. In the days before the downfall of the +Romanovs, thousands of Russian peasants annually made the pilgrimage to +Palestine, and thought themselves lucky if they died on the banks of +the Jordan, believing that by this magic act they would be immediately +transported to Paradise, whatever their previous sins. And the whole +basis of Dostoevsky’s teaching, and to a great extent that of Tchekhov +and Tolstoy, was that “everything must be forgiven.” The whole of +Russia demanded a miracle, and perhaps it was because the Bolsheviks +promised such a miracle, that Russia accepted the Bolsheviks. Above all +the miracle must come from without, and the Bolsheviks came from abroad +bringing with them a new gospel. That was enough to convince millions +who were utterly unprepared to accept the historic materialism, or the +opposition to religion that lay at the root of Bolshevik teaching. +The question the Russian continually asks--even the most open and +avowed atheist among them asks it--is, by what means can man obtain +the superhuman power to make himself akin to God? The Russian, in his +desire for power, is willing to disregard every standard of ordinary +moral conduct in order to become united to Godhead. The American, in +his insistence on the Mosaic code which is motivated almost altogether +by respect for property, is willing to take up the most intolerant +Puritanism, rather than suffer interference with his property. Unlike +the American creed of moral conformity to the community for the sake +of material gain, the Russian religion has infinite charity to the +sinner, despises the wealth of the world, and produces outlaws, +anarchists, schismatics continually. That is why to the Russian mind +of to-day, a few words of Karl Marx or of Darwin may become equally +important as a Gospel as anything in the Bible; it equally explains why +to the American mind of to-day, a Bruce Barton or a Billy Sunday are of +superior importance to Saint Augustine or the Apostles. + + + + +Chapter VIII + + +The difference in attitude which the Russians and the Americans have +displayed in regard to faith and moral conduct--a difference which +rests, as we have shown, on a power-property antithesis--corresponds +also to a not less illuminating difference in the field of intellectual +speculation, and the fine arts generally. Neither country, it may +be noted, took any part in the intellectual and social movement +that is known as the Renaissance. The average Russian of the ruling +landowning aristocracy, was violently thrown from the Middle Ages +into the state politics of post-Reformation Europe, thanks to Peter +the Great’s reforms. The average American of the ruling New England +mercantile caste began as post-Reformation Puritan of the English type, +and steadily moved away from his early European environment into a +primitive background of local politics that recalls the quarrels of the +early Greek city-states. + +Intellectual contact with Europe was begun and kept up at two removes +in each case. In Russia as we shall see, European romanticism, in +its cult of the Gothic and feudal, was the most powerful influence +in precipitating a national literature; in America the same contact +was kept up through the influence of the English eighteenth century +moralists, such writers as Addison, Goldsmith, Dr. Johnson, Pope, +finding abundant imitators and followers in the Colonies. + +Before the problems of Europe, and indeed the problems of the world +generally, the Russian is likely to ask the question, “Why is this?” +while the American asks the question, “How did it come about?” It is +obvious that both questions are necessary, and both are justified +at their proper time and place. The normal, untaught human being, +before undertaking any action, customarily and humanly asks “Why?” +His interest is primarily in the value of an action as such, not in +the means whereby it is to be performed. Then when he has decided on +performing the action, he is able to ask “How?” and thereby acquire +the full technique necessary to accomplish it. But the untaught +Russian, by asking “Why?” after, as well as before, undertaking action, +simply fosters his own attitude of nihilism and inertia; and that +the Russian has literally to be driven into action by intolerable +circumstances, and then generally goes too far, is the chief lesson to +be derived from the perusal of Russian history. The American, on the +other hand, by asking simply “How?” without examining beforehand the +value of the act or its consequences, acquires a superior technical +and executive skill at the expense of his ability to sort out what is +worth undertaking from what is less worth undertaking. Neither regard +“Why?” and “How?” as somehow complementary; neither are capable of the +ordered development of investigation into causes combined with study of +technique that goes on in European cultured circles. + +The question “Why?” as opposed to the question “How?” when applied to +life in the way that the Russians and the Americans apply them, leads, +it is obvious, to diametrically opposing results. The Russian in his +eagerness to find the underlying cause of every phenomenon, is apt to +act, if at all, for a bewildering multiplicity of reasons; ranging from +the desire to reform the world, or the desire to ensure his personal +salvation, down to the mere desire to create mischief or relieve +himself from boredom (like the heroes of Dostoevsky’s “Memories from +the Underground” and Sologub’s “Little Demon.”) The American, in his +hope to master the technique of every possible form of human activity, +is apt to apply his question, “How is this done?” to a bewildering +multiplicity of ends. So much is this the case, that nothing is +commoner in American life than to find men who drift from one +profession to another without mastering any. This is markedly the case +even in American literature: Emerson transferred his activities from +those of the pulpit to those of essay-writing; Mark Twain was pilot, +gold-prospector, and author; Hawthorne and Melville were custom-house +clerks, in their spare time, and so on--without any apparent loss of +individuality. The versatility of the American mind, and its ability to +turn from one thing to another, is perhaps its most outstanding quality. + +This technical versatility not only explains America’s undoubted +primacy in the field of public works and of engineering, but it also +provides an explanation for the complete lack of moral sense now and +then shown by Americans; a lack which, on the face of it, strongly +contradicts the lip-service which America still largely pays to the +Mosaic and the Puritan code. Take for example, the notorious murder +which agitated the American press a few years ago, when two youths, +undoubtedly responsible for the murder of a friend, declared they had +done it as an experiment, in order to see how it felt to be a murderer! +These youths were only carrying to its logical extreme a tendency far +too common in American life as a whole. The leading impulse of the +American is to want to try something, to start something, to play at +being something. It is for this reason that so many Americans start +in life as desiring to be authors or artists, only to find the attempt +far beyond their capacity, and to realise later that they are better +equipped as business men. For technical capacity alone, divorced +from all preoccupation with ulterior aims, tends merely to exalt the +executive faculties above the creative; it helps to make the majority +of men into business men. The creative artist, equipped as he is with +the imagination that concerns itself primarily with elemental cause and +effect, learns his difficult technique by mastering the resources of +his given material. The business man denying as he does any underlying +purpose in himself or others except the purpose of making profits, +applies to the whole of human life the prevailing standard of an easy +and simple technique. And because this technique is simple and easily +acquired, it becomes increasingly popular, so that the development +of the arts and culture suffers from lack of those who will apply +themselves to them. + +It is for this reason that American life appears so standardized to +foreign observers. This standardization is due to the fact that very +few Americans are concerned with the question of the thing to be +done, and most are concerned with the question of the technique of +doing; and the simplest and easiest technique to master in America is +that of making money. As regards the value of the money, once made, +Americans have no more conception of that than they have of the value +of most things. In their lavishness and prodigality, they deserve to +be called, for the most part, the spendthrift nation of the world. But +having mastered the technique that is appropriate to their position +as inhabitants of an economically prosperous country, they are as yet +unwilling to master the technique that would make them great in other +fields. And this concentration on the technique of money-making which +has led to so much of America’s standardization--and incidentally also +to so much of its recent crime and moral callousness--is powerfully +upheld by the present mechanical industrial epoch, with its decline +in handicrafts, and the opportunities it offers to any business man +to become the possessor, simply by buying a few specimens, of the +best that the art of the past has already produced. It is for this +reason that the average American tourist sees in Europe, not Europe’s +intensely persistent energy, nor the vitality of her ideas, nor the +continual conflict between tradition and innovation, but only her cash +value as a market for antiques. + + +2 + +The Russian attempt to find a single central idea to explain the +universe, leads naturally to the exaggerated respect in which the +Orthodox Church has been and is still largely held among a great many +Russians--a respect which it took a Tolstoy to question, and which far +surpasses the respect shown to the Roman Catholic Church even in the +most Catholic countries. For the Orthodox Church represented a central +idea, hallowed by tradition, and fortified by all the apparatus of +miracle-working superstition. Most of Russian literature has been, +however, the product of minds that are, consciously or unconsciously, +in revolt from the Orthodox idea, and determined to find a central idea +outside of it, in some reconciliation with European tradition, or in +some reversion to Asiatic atavism. In this respect it is perfectly just +to apply to the whole Russian intelligentsia class the epithet that +Dostoevsky applied to the Western wing of it, the epithet of “uprooted.” + +This uprootedness, this inability to find a fixed centre, leads not +only to the fantastic nihilism of much Russian literature and thought, +but to its prevailing tone of tension and cruelty. It is a common +complaint among European readers that Russian literature is morbid and +gloomy. This complaint is, however, ill-founded. A reading of such +European pessimists as Lucretius, Leopardi, Schopenhauer, or Thomas +Hardy, reveals depths of accepted despair unknown to the Russian soul. +But Russian literature and thought is intensely direct and cruel, as +all great metaphysical dialectic is cruel. The monstrous pantheon of +Indian divinities and the pessimistic nihilism of the Upanishads is +something not foreign to the Russian, as it is foreign to the European +mind. Above all, Russian thought tends to display itself in startling +contrast; to paint in bright, glaring primary colors. Here we have +again an Oriental trait, and a strongly marked one. There are few +nuances in Russian literature, and the writers who showed themselves +masters of the nuance are, like Tchekhov and Turgenev, more highly +appreciated abroad than at home. + +American literature and thought, on the other hand, being largely +concerned with technique, is apt to respond not to the idea, but +to the formula. The figure of Sam Slick, the Yankee clockmaker and +peddler, who certainly never thought for one moment whether clocks +were of much use to his customers, but who knew all about how they +were made, and could take them apart and put them together better +than anyone, inevitably recurs to the memory when we try to envisage +the typical American mind. How much of American political theory and +activity, North and South, how much of the truly American passion for +local laws, state and city ordinances, constitutional amendments, +legal innovations, has been due to this passion for meddling and +tinkering--to this intensive study of technique! And the same passion +reappears in the field of literature. In this respect the figure of Poe +is particularly noteworthy. We can scarcely classify Poe as one of the +greatest forces in American literature, because philosophically he had +nothing whatever to say that had not already been said before him by +the English romantics and the New England transcendentalists. But if we +regard him as a virtuoso pure and simple, a virtuoso of technique, he +immediately becomes perhaps the most important of all American authors. +Poe was so intensely concerned with technique and technique alone, that +he broke new literary ground in half-a-dozen different directions, +without saying anything essentially new. He developed the lyrical +refrain to a point unknown before his day. In “Ulalume” and “The Raven” +he practically invented symbolism. He transformed the experimentally +onomatopœic prose of De Quincey into the perfect prose poem. He +invented the detective story. In his “Voyage of Arthur Gordon Pym” and +other pseudo-scientific tales, he became the father of the scientific +phantasy later developed by H. G. Wells, Jules Verne, and others. In +his “Eureka,” he even tried to reconcile scientific cosmogony and +myth-making--a daring attempt that had to wait till the post-Einstein +period before it found imitators. It was this despised American hack +whom most of the New England leaders of thought considered as a +charlatan, who became the technical teacher of the whole generation of +later symbolists and æsthetes in France and England; just as it was +the purely moral and non-technical influence of Tolstoy that helped to +produce much of the anti-æsthetic literature of the ‘social document’ +type (Zola, Romain Rolland), later throughout Europe. + +Poe was, however, not the only example of an American author concerned +with formulæ. The prevalence of manner over matter may be observed +in most American authors, and becomes overwhelmingly important when +we turn from the field of literature proper to the field of public +debate and political oratory. This field has been practically unknown +in Russia, thanks to the activities of the censorship, and the general +suppression of free speech, but such documents as have come down to +us, such as for example, Dostoevsky’s celebrated Pushkin speech, or +Lenin’s speeches, do not reveal any very great oratorical ability. +Compare them with the rolling periods of Webster or even with such +comparatively simple efforts as Lincoln’s Gettysburg address, and the +contrast is flagrant. The difference is that the Russian makes only a +single vast generalisation, that the Russian is omni-human in destiny +and is appointed by God to reconcile all the nations of the earth, and +attempts to illustrate it prosaically by carefully chosen selections +from Pushkin’s or Marx’s works. + +But in the case of Webster, or of the Gettysburg Address, the whole +speech is more or less a tissue of highly poetical generalisations. +Specific argument there is little or none--the less the better. The +influence of such oratory in its substitution of the telling phrase, +the resounding but intellectually empty statement, upon social life in +America is much more vast than can ever be imagined by most Europeans, +and has been an almost unmixed evil. Its pernicious effects were again +seen in the recent tragedy of President Wilson when confronted with +the realities of the European situation, and the still more obvious, +but lesser known, tragedy of the whole public and private career of +the late William Jennings Bryan. This oratorical temperament which is +so common in America, attempts to heal profound and rooted differences +of race, religion, politics, society, by the application of a few +telling phrases, a handful of brilliant slogans. The few great public +speakers that Russia has produced, such as Lenin, have made no such +fatal mistake. Their efforts, however lacking in the wholly technical +qualities that sweep audiences off their feet, were masterpieces of +close realistic, _terre-à-terre_ argument. + + +3 + +America has already had three well-marked cultural and intellectual +periods, each followed by a corresponding decline. The first--if we +exclude, as we have a right to do, the stirrings of intellectual life +in the Mathers and other purely colonial figures--began about the +middle of the eighteenth century, culminated in the Revolution, and +produced its last figures in Irving and Cooper. It was predominantly +political and rationalistic. The second, beginning about 1840, the year +before the publication of Emerson’s first series of Essays, reached +its climax in the years immediately preceding the Civil War, and died +away in the seventies. It was romantic and sentimental. The third, +stirring the dry bones of respectability with the wind of a new realism +about 1890, is still continuing at the present day. In each case, the +movement towards culture was halted by an external war, and dissolved +later in a period of growing financial prosperity. The first period +came to a full close by 1830, though Irving and Cooper were to survive +it; the second stage was virtually at an end in 1875, when the growing +power of industrialism took the stage, challenging Emerson, Whitman +and Melville; the third epoch may have already reached its culmination +in the years following on the Great War. In each case, the successful +wars in which America engaged, the Revolution and the War of 1812, the +Mexican and Civil Wars, the Spanish War and the European War, diverted +energy from American culture, and transferred it to the commercial, +financial, and industrial field. + +Like America, Russia has had three periods of culture. The first, under +the leadership of Pushkin and Gogol, began with the Napoleonic struggle +and ended about 1836--though Gogol himself was to survive it for a few +years. It was predominantly romantic and revolutionary. The second +began approximately with the Crimean War of 1854, culminated in the +liberation of the serfs in 1861 and went on through the seventies. Its +leaders were Turgenev, Tolstoy, and Dostoevsky. It was predominantly +realistic and political. The third, beginning about 1890, has continued +down to the present day. It is almost entirely symbolical in feeling. + +In each case, Russia’s foreign campaigns, whether successful or not, +seem to have shaken up her pervading inertia and spiritlessness. The +struggle with Napoleon gave rise to the brilliant generation of +Pushkin; the Crimean War inspired Dostoevsky and Tolstoy; the building +of the Transsiberian Railway and consequent Japanese-Russian War, may +be said to have created the school of the symbolists, which, as Prince +Mirsky has said, dominated the first decade of this century. By the +fluctuations of campaigns fought at a distance, as opposed to civil +wars, Russia has been bettered: America has been spoiled by them, +and has never stood so high in culture as she did during the brief +years of her own civil war. That is because war abroad enlarges man’s +horizon, war at home limits it. The Russian type, prisoner to its own +centrality, requires to escape continually from its petty and hampering +environment; the American type, boldly going forth from itself into +ever new regions, needs some force that will hold it at home and make +it create a local centre of indigenous culture. + +One can trace the same characteristics in the strong centralisation of +Russian literary and spiritual culture, as opposed to its boundless +diffusion in America. In Russia, all intellectual movements have +gravitated from the beginning to Moscow and to Petrograd; in America, +Concord, Richmond, Charleston, San Francisco, Chicago, Nashville, +have all promoted new movements, each in a sense more important than +anything achieved by New York. New York has been only a market-place, +a place where literary people may come together and drift apart, a +temporary haven for those wearied of provinciality and wishing to +assert their cosmopolitanism. American culture, in order to be itself, +to find spiritual roots, has to flee from the mock cosmopolitan +Europeanism of its capitals and to become provincial, rooted in the +backwoods, solitary and remote, as were Thoreau and Hawthorne. Russian +culture, on the other hand, in order to be itself, has to tend towards +a definite centre. The European is freed from these distressing +choices; the division between city-dweller and country-dweller is for +him less sharp and severe. He is, if highly cultivated, a member of a +mystic body which ignores national boundaries and has, in the largest +sense, unity of purpose. He absorbs a certain quantity of American and +Russian culture, but only to produce, under normal circumstances, its +cleverly-compounded antidote. + +From the centralised condition of Russian culture, and its opposite in +America, it follows that the cultivated Russian who lives abroad, tends +to become more democratic in his outlook, while the cultivated American +under similar circumstances, tends to become more aristocratic. A +centralised culture is impossible without an aristocracy to support +it. Unless the ranks of society are graded and defined from above, the +meanest workman can become, economically and socially, the equal, if +not the superior, of the finest scholar, the highest creative artist. +Such a condition is what America definitely aspires towards. The +condition which Russia tends to create is that no one, not the greatest +artist, nor the finest scholar, should ever consider himself the equal +of the mysterious ruler who, deriving his power from heaven alone, sits +apart in the Kremlin. In America, the will being free, the quality of +thought does not matter; in Russia, the will being subordinate, all +can aspire to be thinkers. When a Russian goes abroad, the resultant +liberation of his will enables it to act in harmony with his mind +for the first time, so that he becomes an advanced radical; when an +American takes up his residence in Europe, the freeing of his thought +that takes place limits for the first time his boundless will, so that +he usually becomes a traditional conservative. + +But in thus entering upon and attempting to define the influence +America and Russia have had on the whole field of intellectual +and æsthetic effort we are at once challenged by more important +distinctions. American thought tends to the rounded and static, Russian +thought tends to lose itself in the eternal flow of harmony. Now if +we try to make a scheme of the arts according to those which are more +plastic and those which are more harmonic in their outlook on reality, +we will get a figure somewhat as follows: + + Plasticity -------- Harmony + | + Ritual + (under which comes dancing) + Painting Drama + Sculpture Literature + Architecture Music + +Unless we do construct such a scheme in our minds, we can have no clear +conception of what art is. For no other human concept has been so badly +handled and blunderingly misunderstood as has this concept of art; and +by none more than by the æstheticians. One is almost tempted to retort +to the followers of Croce, who declare that all art is a pure abstract +intuition of the artist, a reality apart from physical fact, that, on +the contrary, art as an abstract concept has no reality, and that there +is no such thing as art, there are only arts, each being a synthesis +of certain aspects of objective reality. Art synthesises reality, as +science analyses it; and the synthesis alters in outlook whether we see +it from the aspect of time (which in the arts is music and corresponds +to pure mathematics in the sciences) or from the aspect of space +(which in the arts is architecture and corresponds to physics in the +sciences). Which of the arts we take as more fundamental or important +than any other depends, after all, on the quality of our psychological +outlook, not on the degree of our æsthetic appreciation. There can be +no doubt that in an ordered state, the arts progress from the space +organisation of architecture to the time organisation of music; just as +in a disordered state, the fact that all the arts tend towards music is +taken by æsthetic theorists to mean that music is the greatest of all +arts. + +It is interesting to attempt some application of this classification +to the phenomena we have been discussing, of Russia and America. In +these countries the art of ritual, which we have set at the summit of +our pyramid, inasmuch as it contains elements of all the other arts +and depends on them all for its own existence, stood at opposing poles +from the very outset. There can be no two types of religious service +more opposed in essence than the Orthodox Russian communion service +and the Congregational, Methodist or Baptist “Sunday meeting.” The one +culminates in the invisible priest’s taking of the sacrament behind the +closed and veiled iconostasis, while the congregation without humbly +wait on their knees; the other, culminating in sermon and offertory, is +an act taken part in by the whole congregation, to whose willingness +the minister is entirely subsidiary. How far these two types of ritual +have affected the arts of America and Russia is a question that only +future manuals of æsthetics can settle. For the need of the moment +is an æsthetic based on fruitful psychological principles, and not a +purely theoretic æsthetic such as Croce offers us. But for this we may +have to wait for another century. + +Neither America nor Russia has been able to express to the full their +native genius; they could only have done so had the French Revolution +and Napoleonic wars been followed by a complete collapse of Europe. But +it is probable that the direction of the American genius lies towards +architecture, sculpture, and painting; the direction of the Russian +genius lies towards drama, literature and music. Thus does art attempt +to redress the balance which the social organisation overweights in the +opposing direction. For the American continually tends to disintegrate, +to be individualised, to evade the centre; while the Russian +continually tends to reintegrate, to become centralised and feel the +appeal of the universal. Art, seeking for a strongly-opposed principle +of spiritual unity in each case, in America finds a plastic motive in +organised space-architecture; in Russia it finds a dynamic motive in +the harmonic time-rhythm of folk-song. Anyone who has seen an American +skyscraper or who has heard a well-trained Russian choir sing, will +realise more fully than my words can tell him the implications of this +statement. + +The most characteristic new American contribution to art is probably +the recessed skyscraper, of which an archetype was already produced +before the white man saw the American continent, by the Pueblo Indians. +The most characteristic new Russian contribution to art is probably +the ballet, a mingling of movement and song, of which the archetype +was to be found in the fairs and local feast days of old Russia. In +both countries the connection between the arts, and notably between +literature and painting, is closer than elsewhere. A Tolstoy could +justify the increasing ethical tone of his art by an appeal to the +practice of such painters as Jules Breton or Defregger; a Whistler +could defend the increasing æstheticism of his by a passionate appeal +to what is essentially literature and poetry. Neither country has +arrived at the extreme limit of sophisticated culture to be found in +Europe, with its chatter of vapid specialists. + + +4 + +When America and Russia started on their course as independent +entities--which process beginning about 1688, only reached its +consummation in a century--the style of architecture which prevailed +in both countries was remotely akin. The Russian style had previously +been the Byzantine as modified by Levantine and Swedish influences. The +American style, if we omit the Mayas, began as the colonial baroque, +as developed by the architects who followed Sir Christopher Wren. +Peter the Great, however, built his new capital in the baroque style, +the style of Versailles and The Hague, and his influence contributed +towards the relegation of Byzantine influence to the hinterland. It is +this link of Baroque architecture that bridges a great gap between the +mind of Russia and that of America. + +Baroque architecture has been called by an English critic the +“architecture of Humanism.” It might equally be called the architecture +of absolutism. For its leading æsthetic aim, which was, in the words +of the same critic, to convey a sense of overflowing and exuberant +strength, might be used, and in fact was used by two widely different +political parties. It might convey a sense of overflowing and exuberant +strength on the part of an oligarchical but popular republic, as in +the case of the Salute at Venice; of a dramatic but popular creed, as +in the case of the Church of St. Peter’s; of a corrupt but prosperous +administration as in the case of the houses of the great Whigs who +ruled England. Or it might convey monastic seclusion, absolute +obedience, complete autocracy, as in the case of the Jesuit churches, +the Escorial Palace, or Louis XIV’s palace at Versailles. + +The later classical revival under the Empire, too, was double-sided. +It might signify the sternness of unbending republicanism, or the +dictatorship of Cæsarism. It was the former aspect that appealed to +America; the classic there quickly overbore the baroque, and has +persisted down to this day. On the other hand, the craze for baroque +ornament and decoration persisted in Russia down to the time of the +Great War. The early stage sets for the Russian ballet, notably the +work of Benois and Bakst, are its last expression. + +If we pass from architecture to painting, we get another set of +contrasts. The ideal of Russian painting up to the close of the +nineteenth century seems to have been the great historical panorama +(Repin, Vereshchagin). On the other hand, the ideal of American +painting has been since the days of Stuart, the portrait. Here we have +again the contrasted principles of anarchic autocracy and republican +individualisation that we find elsewhere. That neither Russian nor +American painting amounted to much proves nothing, nor can we gain a +point by saying that neither was highly aware of what was going on in +Europe. American painters proved themselves to be good characterisers, +but bad decorators; Russian artists had the will and desire to execute +great decoration, but character was beyond their grasp. Similarly +Russian sculpture tends to the eccentric, the unbalanced; American to +the static and commonplace. + +The contrast is still more marked when we come to the art of +literature. Throughout Russian literature the noblest character is +frequently shown as doing the weakest and most ignoble things. American +fiction, on the other hand, tends to exalt the ignoble, to give the +most dignified actions to the character one would suppose least capable +of them. This will appear more fully in the later analysis. + +In drama the taste of the American public has always been for +melodramatic situations and broad handling; in Russia for inconclusive +and complex situations and subtle handling. One need only compare the +spectacular heaviness of the later O’Neill plays with the extreme +subtlety of Tchekhov. + +To conclude with the art of music, we may say that in America the +composer has tended to construct well, but to characterise poorly; +in Russia to construct badly but to characterise well. All these +differences in art-practice arise from the fact that in both countries +the system of society is greater than the will of any individual to +support it. But the system itself in Russia is autocratic, centralised, +bureaucratically ordered; therefore the individual who revolts from +it, revolts upon impulse. He is instinctively an anarchist; his protest +is of the heart, not the reason. The system in America is anarchic, +decentralised, dependent solely on individual enterprise; therefore +the individual who revolts, acts upon reflection, he is intellectually +and spiritually an aristocrat (even when he calls himself a radical), +his protest is one of reason and commonsense humanity. Thus we see +that art in both countries exists not as an expression of tradition, +but as a protest against a political and social tradition that is felt +in some way hostile to life. For this reason art in both countries is +in essence revolutionary; it does not aim at correcting and changing +tradition so much as destroying it. + + + + +BOOK III + + + _“Russia began by asking Europe for the finished products of + western civilisation, to meet the requirements of her state + service. It was not in this offhand way that Europe had been able + to produce these finished products, which had behind them a whole + background of civilisation. Gradually the Russian customer was + driven backwards to a fuller and closer appreciation of what he + really lacked. He began by asking for weapons and went on to ask + for military training. He began by asking for clocks or any other + fascinating machinery and went on to ask for technical service. + He began by asking for ready-made books on given subjects, and + went on to ask for education. He began by asking for knowledge and + inevitably, however slowly, he was compelled to recognise the need + for that training of character which can alone produce competent, + self-respecting and honest servants of the state. He began by + asking for the end and went on with infinite inner conflicts and + searchings of heart to ask for the beginnings.”_ + + PROFESSOR BERNARD PARES, + “A History of Russia.” + + _“Our America to-day I consider in many respects as but indeed a + vast seething mass of materials, ample, better (also worse) than + previously known; eligible to be used to carry towards its crowning + stage and build for good, the great ideal nationality of the future + ... no limit here to land, help, opportunities, mines, products, + demands, supplies, and with--I think--our political organization, + national, state, and municipal--permanently established as far + ahead as we can calculate, but so far no social, religious, or + æsthetic organizations consistent with our politics.”_ + + WALT WHITMAN, + Preface to 1872 Edition of “Leaves of Grass.” + + + + +Chapter IX + + +Apart from the influence of politics, the greatest spiritual influence +that Russia and America have had on the world for a century past +has been manifested through their respective literatures. It is to +this field that we must now turn, for the most striking series of +our parallels. This literature has been, in both cases, something so +entirely apart in its inner development from anything produced in +Europe before the end of the eighteenth century, that we cannot apply +to it the traditional standards of European criticism. Unlike what has +been the case in European literatures, the literary form itself has not +emerged from the sociological and moral factors generally prevailing at +the moment. Rather has it been used as a weapon of protest, as a means +for overcoming the stultification of the environment, in both America +and Russia. It has been essentially revolutionary, dictated by a small +protesting minority, rather than rooted in the traditional lore of the +soil. + +At the close of the eighteenth century, as we have seen, the mind of +Europe became divided between the rival claims of absolutism and +of radicalism. A wave of romantic sentiment, of revolutionary storm +and stress, with its longing for a past that could no longer exist, +together with its intense democratic feeling for the forgotten folk +sources of art, swept over England and Germany, and began to appear +in France. It made impossible henceforward the frigid artificialities +of form displayed in the poetry of Pope and Johnson, the dramas of +Voltaire, the essays of Addison and Fontenelle, the epic of Klopstock. +And it was from this rising wave of Romantic sentiment that both +America and Russia started on their careers as independent producers +of literature. They have continued on their way as literary countries +thanks altogether to nineteenth-century romanticism. Without some +understanding of the struggle between romanticism and realism, their +literary history does not make sense, it has neither cohesion nor +development. It is true that both countries have produced devotees of +classical form, but for the most part in the shape of critics, not +creators. The underlying genius of both countries has been unable +to accept the European tradition, even when it was imitated; it has +forced itself into alien moulds only to burst them. One cannot deny for +example that Whitman’s poems are poems, nor that Dostoevsky’s novels +are novels. Only they correspond to nothing either in form or content +or mental attitude that was done before them as poems and novels. +The word itself, freed from considerations of economy, tradition, +and classical usage, makes here its own form; arbitrary, intensely +personal, always stumbling and shambling on the brink of incoherence. + +It is therefore impossible to write a just and final literary history +of either country. In this field everyone is a partisan. According to +whether the critics’ prepossessions are for literature that reflects +that social struggle, or for finished beauty of form, or for profound +and tragic revelation of unsuspected depths of life; according to +whether the critic of Russian and American literature is primarily a +social reformer, an academic humanist, or an advanced radical theorist, +the judgment will fall. Kropotkin cannot endure the later Dostoevsky; +hundreds of American professors cannot endure Whitman. The utmost that +can be done is to let one literature illuminate the other, to show how +the same psychological factors produce often closely corresponding +results, to draw parallels between those portions of the literature +of both countries that have most closely affected Europe. So only +do we get any insight into the mysteries of the Slav and American +soul. Only in literature is so close an insight possible; in American +painting and architecture, and in Russian dance and music, we have +also national expressions, but limited, tentative, and owing to their +fundamental differences in formal approach (the static and plastic as +against the auditory and agitated) very difficult of comparison. It is +possible in some respects to bring the products of the written word in +each European country together; we can for example set up a comparison +between the drama of Lope de Vega and Calderon, the drama of Corneille +and Racine, the drama of Ben Jonson and Shakespeare. But it would be +far more difficult if we tried to compare sculpture and painting as +practised in the three countries mentioned over that period. So in the +case of Russia and America, we must concentrate on the written word as +being the most accessible and comprehensible means of comparison. + +We may admit at the outset that to most observers modern Russian +literature is far richer in individual talent, and in works of high +ability, than American literature has hitherto been. This is due to the +working of three very important factors. In the first place, Russia +from the outset had a racial, soil-rooted language of its own and was +not forced to transform traditional English modes of expression to fit +an altered environment, or to teach an immigrant population. In the +second, the fact that political discussion of every sort was forbidden +in Russia during most of the period under review, while America has +lived in a perpetual atmosphere of constant political agitation, +made many more choose the profession of authorship in Russia, while +in America it tended to make many who might have been writers, into +politicians, orators, publicists. In the third place, before beginning +to create a modern literature on her own account, Russia had already +a rich folklore and legendary history of the past to draw upon. In +the case of the Americans, the folklore and traditions of the early +Indians, even of the French and the Spanish settlers, were in a sense +so foreign to the dominant English-speaking psychology, that they could +not be used, except as exotic colour. The result was that to this +day the American writer, with all the ability in the world, has less +material to his hands. Homer could not have been Homer had he come to +Greece from, let us say, Egypt, without understanding or appreciation +of the past. The American writer is more frequently found in that +predicament than the Russian. He has neither a tradition of folklore to +fall back upon for the past, nor essentially an individual experience, +out of which to build up his present day. Only too frequently in +America a usable past (to borrow the phrase of a well-known American +critic) and a meaningful present fail to coincide to produce the +literary masterpiece. + +Yet a parallel between both countries is not only necessary, but +psychologically illuminating. This parallel will follow the lines of +the historical parallel, already tentatively traced for the outward +events, in the first book of this study. Here too we will see two +forces starting from opposite poles approaching a coincidence only +to diverge and to again approach coincidence. Here too we watch the +interplay of the same underlying climatic and soil factors on extremely +mixed races that start life under widely different political and social +constants. What is more, this parallel supplements and completes the +other. It enables us to disentangle the essentially Slavic element from +the essentially American element of the two cultures. It may even show +how these two forces operating freely in the world for a century and a +half, like the opposing poles of an electric battery, may ultimately be +reconciled, if not in the field of the practical, at least in the field +of the ideal; how they not only closely correspond to each other, but +ultimately become one. + + +2 + +The first stirrings of independent American literature (as distinct +from Colonial literature, or Red Indian traditions) appear most +clearly in the writings of Benjamin Franklin. The first stirrings +of Russian literature as distinct from a few court writers such as +Derzhavin in the Catherine period, to whom might be added Catherine +herself (although she wrote in French), and the remnants of old +Slavonic traditions, appear in the writings of Krylov. What strikes us +instantly about these two writers--the penniless American journalist +who steadily climbed the ladder of success until he reached the top, +and the son of the poor army officer who likewise spent a lifetime +in journalism to emerge at last as a sort of social lion--is the +curious impression of shrewd, canny and independent worldly wisdom +that emerges from the pages of both. Neither is a literary hero, nor +an independent creator, nor a prophet. Both have a utilitarian side, +a leaning to moral teaching, closely allied to a great deal of homely +common sense. It is true that Franklin spent much of his energies in +political agitation and in scientific research, which detracts from +his magnitude as an author. But as has already been pointed out, the +same field was not open to the Russian, with the result that his satire +is both sharper and tenser. Yet Franklin’s “Autobiography” is a fable +of the industrious apprentice making his way through the ranks of +Colonial society, as Krylov’s so-called fables are real pictures of +the artificial and vain social order (shaken by the French Revolution) +in which Krylov, the idle and pleasure-loving, found himself. Both +contain elements of poetry, but these elements are of small importance +as compared to the prose content. And both were, precisely because they +limited their aims to what was immediately possible, rather than to +what was the ideal statement, immensely popular. + +From such small beginnings American and Russian literature emerged on +the world’s stage with Alexander Pushkin and Washington Irving. It may +seem to the casual and purely objective observer that no parallel is +at all possible between these two men. Irving was simply an agreeable +minor writer, with a prose style of considerable urbanity and charm, +who happened for a time to be ranked above his merits abroad as at +home, and who now is conveniently forgotten; whereas Pushkin was above +all a great and original poet. Yet this verdict which might be passed +by nine out of ten European literary critics is, quite possibly, a +false one. Of the two writers it is Irving who is the most original, as +he had none of the stock of folklore or of ancient tradition to go on; +all that had been swept away from under his feet by the Revolution, and +had to be discovered or invented afresh. He was in the position of an +artist who has to paint a new picture on a blank canvas without either +brushes or colors. On the other hand, Pushkin could simply use the old +material that lay to his hand, and his task was merely to interfuse it +with a new revolutionary spirit. If we can think of Irving as detached +from European literature as Pushkin was; if we can remember that living +on the Hudson, he was as socially remote from the world of Addison and +Goldsmith, whom he admired, as Pushkin in the Caucasus was remote from +Byron and Sterne whom he worshipped, we can reach a juster estimate of +the achievement of both men. + +There is a feeling of nostalgia for the past that, particularly in +autumn, assails one in such a new country as America with even greater +force than anywhere in Europe. To the European, especially to the +dweller in a cosmopolitan city, the relics of the Middle Ages, the +richness of the Renaissance, the courtliness of the eighteenth century +are, after all, dead and vanished remnants of a force that has long +since flowed into other channels. But to the American who has never +known them, these things appear under their most Utopian aspect, as +examples of a life full of leisure, where work was despised, people +were free, natural and gracious, and harmony with inner and outer +nature was achieved. The American is afflicted therefore with an +incredible nostalgia for the past, the European past, but the country +he sees about him offers no past at all but that of the wilderness, +of the pioneer and the Indian. He therefore aims, according as he +is sensitive to beauty, or fundamentally in discord with his own +surroundings, either to transfer the riches of Europe bodily to his +shores and to strive to live in the midst of them; or to revert to pure +and simple savagery. The first path was that trodden by Irving; the +second was that chosen by Cooper. + +The quality that made Irving a classic author during his lifetime and +that kept him so, arose from his overwhelming grace of expression. +Around the poor and threadbare material of folklore at his disposal he +threw the beauty of an incomparable style, a manner of telling that +makes of him still the most readable of American authors. “Rip Van +Winkle,” “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” “The History of New York” are +all minor incidents of life, enlarged and expanded to their utmost +limit, avoiding the tensity of great tragedy, but crammed with the +humor of a disillusioned romanticism. They are not, like the works of +their contemporary Scott, direct assimilations and fresh re-creations +of the material of the past. Irving stands aloof from his own fantasy, +and warns us that this is how life may have been once lived, but +that after all life cannot go on in this way. Thus an undercurrent +of melancholy is unavoidable to the careful reader of these stories. +When Irving’s heart is more closely engaged, as in his fantasies of +the Alhambra, he becomes at once even more supreme as an artist, but +less human in range. He seems to be thinking always that all this +enchantment is purely imaginary, and that his people are not real +men and women. His Alhambra is not so much a castle in Spain, as a +castle in the air. Later Irving tried to remedy this defect by writing +objective history, and busied himself with the life of Columbus, of +Washington, of Astor. But even here he was dogged by the curious +unreality that is the fate of the romantic who cannot find romance in +the world that is about him, or in his own immediate race-memories. +His Columbus is a mediæval stained-glass saint. His Washington is a +classical plaster-cast. Only his Astor has any reality. Thus Irving’s +later works are inferior to his earlier. He was not equipped to draw +men of action but only such dreamers as Rip Van Winkle and Wouter van +Twiller. And an underlying mistrust of women--explainable by the fact +that Irving was a bachelor with several unsuccessful love-affairs to +account for--emerges equally from these classically built pages. + +The problem that Pushkin set himself to solve was, in all essentials, +similar to the problem that bothered Irving. Only in Pushkin’s case +there was no lack of material for his talent--rather the reverse, +which explains why, in his short and disordered life, he was able +to turn out so much that is memorable. Pushkin’s question was how to +put this material into classic form, how to make it appear light, +graceful, easy and charming. That he solved this question, and wrote +works of great exhilaration and formal perfection in his youth, in a +language which was before his day barely more than a barbaric dialect, +is the considered verdict of everyone who knows Russian. But this +achievement did not satisfy Pushkin. He did not believe in the world +that he himself had created, and an endless succession of folk-heroes, +of Russians and Ludmillas, could not satisfy him for long. His private +attitude was atheistic and what is more anarchistic, as is indicated by +the obscene Gabriliad and many another youthful poem. As he grew older +he tried more and more to find a world in which to believe, with the +result that this scion of the nobility took to posing as a peasant, +and cultivated an air of heroic misanthropy, derived from Byron. The +two forces flowed together in “Eugene Onegin,” which is the one work +of Pushkin that has united all his qualities. Here under the mantle +of Byronism which he had wrapped round himself, and which essentially +belied his own care-free temper, we get a world which is real but +detestable, and in which the bitterness stands close to the surface. +Yet this world, from which neither Pushkin nor any other later Russian +has found escape, was in a sense forced on him by outer circumstances, +particularly by the great early emotional crisis of his life, which +came from his secret sympathy with the Decembrist uprising in 1825 +(when he was twenty-six) which he later had to disavow in order to +escape Siberia. This crisis was fatal to Pushkin’s harmony, in the same +way as Irving’s early emotional crisis, his engagement broken by death, +was fatal to Irving. The remainder of his work is a prolonged emotional +dissatisfaction, much on the lines of Irving’s half-humorous stories. +Pushkin became a realist despite himself, as Irving a romanticist +despite himself. Each is therefore a classic in the Russian or American +sense, but not in the European. + + +3 + +With James Fenimore Cooper we approach a very different problem. This +honest, stern and embittered man, at war with society and himself, +whose best writing was done at the latest period of his development, +is perhaps to-day the least known and least appreciated of American +writers. This is due to the fact that about much of his work he +deliberately threw the false glamour of an idyllic romanticism. Hating +the frontier as he did, hating equally the time-serving and vulgar +democracy of his own period, he sympathised at heart with nothing +but the already remote past of the Indian scout (of whom he has left +us an immortal portrait in Leatherstocking) and fundamentally the +Indian himself. An aristocrat to the bone, he threw himself repeatedly +back upon the eighteenth century. In his love of what was already a +remote and murky past, he recalls the Russian historian Karamzin, who +similarly after an early period of political polemic, went back to the +past and strove to glorify it. And the result was much the same in both +cases. Karamzin’s Russian history is, in the opinion of most critics +of standing, not really a history at all, but a marvellous portrait +gallery of living men and women held together by a flowing stream of +narrative tending to idealise and prettify the details of the picture +he was presenting. Cooper’s romances are similarly not romances at all, +but wonderful pictures of bygone events, storms at sea, revolutionary +battles, adventures in the wilderness, similarly vitiated by a tendency +to write idyllically about the past. And as Cooper influenced Melville +and hundreds of other American writers of adventure tales, so Karamzin +influenced Gogol and Dostoevsky. Cooper was indeed more important as an +influence than as an actual creator. Where he was great was in Uncas +and Chingachgook and Leatherstocking; his noble and persistent belief +in character saved him from incredible sentimentality of incident and +a viciously mannered style. The untold glory of the already vanishing +heroic age of American life when men took their lives in their hands +and lived alone with the wilderness, fired Cooper. He was scarcely +adequate to the tragic implications of his own theme. + +Here we reach a point that is important for us to understand if we are +to grasp the real nature of the underlying contrast between American +and Russian culture, and the common causes of their failure. Under the +system of levelling democracy such as America adopted and practised, +men could not combine together to wrest a meaning and significance +from frontier conditions except by making sacrifice of some part of +their own personality. The complete personality, therefore, as such, +stood outside the bounds of American organised society, and became +inarticulate, unformed, illiterate, and to all intents and purposes, +a pariah and an outlaw. A Daniel Boone, a Leatherstocking, or in a +later age, a Kit Carson, or a Huckleberry Finn, are the authentic +“originals” of the American landscape. In their presence everything +else becomes feebly Colonial; an imitation of remote European manners +and traditions. Only in the South, where some elements of settled +aristocracy had rooted themselves, could culture and personality +exist side by side in the same individual, and this culture took +social and political, rather than literary forms. The North and the +ever-widening frontier of the West were incapable of producing a +single personality of the intellectual range and poised character +of Jefferson. At the other end of the scale, under the increasing +centralisation and autocracy of the Muscovite Czars, no one could have +independent personality except the Czar himself and a few important +nobles of his entourage. The system of abolishing local independence +worked, as a leveller of the mass, with equal efficiency as the system +of mob-democracy. Only a few of the older Slavonic and Baltic nobility +resisted, and it was within their ranks that literature was cultivated, +as it was within the ranks of the better-bred families of America that +the first attempts at an indigenous culture took place. + + +4 + +In both Russia and America, therefore, the rage for imitation of +European ways of life and thought early became of equal importance with +the suppressed desire to shape life according to local conditions. This +fact explains the popularity of such figures, for instance, as Bryant +and Zhukovsky. Bryant simply transported bodily the nature feeling of +Wordsworth to the American scene, as Zhukovsky tried to interfuse the +idyllic sentiment of Parny and Chenier into his aboriginal background. +Both spent a large part of their lives as translators; a task far +easier to the Russian than to the American, as the Russian could not +fail to enrich his material (chosen frequently from third-rate European +sources) by contact with far deeper and more lasting earthborn springs +of inspiration, whereas the American impoverished his by a scrupulous +and Puritanic zeal for correctitude. Both translated Homer, but while +Zhukovsky’s translation became and remained a Russian classic, Bryant’s +translation is a monument of Puritanic austerity and plainness and is +likely to abandon the mind of the cultivated English-speaking reader +in favour of the surging violence of Chapman, the artifice of Pope, or +the rich and tender idyllism of Butcher and Lang. But for all that, +Bryant’s “Iliad” and “Odyssey” are Greece as seen through American +eyes, and their homespun dignity are more valuable, because more +native, to the American critic than any European version. The impulse +both Bryant and Zhukovsky gave to translations has persisted throughout +the whole range of Russian and American literature; it is symptomatic +of the fact that culture in both countries is not a natural growth, +but something that has to be propped up and supported by continual +reference to what goes on without, in lands where authors are born to +more settled traditions. + + + + +Chapter X + + +There comes a moment in the history of every people when, by some +almost imperceptible inner growth of cultural self-consciousness, a +great, new, and original art is born among them. This moment coincides +with the first slackening of the impulse that has made the particular +people whose history we are surveying, free and victorious in their +long struggle for unity and liberty. The period that follows in every +case depends upon an emergence from early political upheaval and chaos, +and in its frankness and joyousness, resembles the coming of spring. A +slackening of unified political effort takes place, and a corresponding +increase of individual talent in other fields. Italy reached this +moment with her pictorial arts and literature early in the fourteenth +century; France under Ronsard and the Pleaid; England under the Tudors. +In Russia and America the old cultural background, such as it was, +blocked the path of a new birth down to the period at which we have now +arrived in the course of our study. Russia’s Renaissance and America’s +Renaissance coincided; both began about 1830. The first great figures +that these two Renaissances produced in the field of literature were +Gogol and Hawthorne. + +Let us look for one moment at the social conditions under which these +two men came to maturity. In Russia the whole period is covered by the +reign of Nicholas I. Alexander I, who had succeeded in 1794 and whose +reign had led to a complete triumph over Napoleon after Moscow, died +in 1825. His reign had strengthened the hold of the autocracy upon the +great mass of the population, and had enormously increased as well +the prestige of Russia in Europe, but had successively alienated the +more enlightened nobility, who were all for the contemporary remedy +of Western liberalism--a constitution. His death was the signal for +the abortive uprising of the Decembrists, who were one and all nobles +and could command little support in the army. The aim of Nicholas +was to preserve everything exactly as it had been left by Alexander. +Personally friendly as he was to liberal thought at the beginning, +patron of both Pushkin and Gogol, possessed of great native courage +and invincible determination, the movement of events in Europe from +1830 to 1848 forced him little by little into the camp of the extreme +reactionaries, and the close of his reign found even the Slavophils in +opposition to the Czar. By his personal interference in the affairs of +Poland and Turkey he drew down upon him the enmity of Austria, England, +and France, at that time the three greatest European powers. In regard +to literature and the spread of ideas, his reign was marked by a +steady growth in the power of the censorship, tending to abolish every +manifestation of original thought. + +All during this time, the pressure of Russia on its westward frontier, +the frontier of Europe, was enormous, as during the same period +America exerted immense pressure on its own westward frontier--the +frontier that led through the Spanish colonial possessions, to the +Pacific. The increase in repressive autocracy in Russia, under +Nicholas I, was counterbalanced in America by a great increase in +expansive democracy. The period opens with the disappearance of the +last of the old Federalist “dynasty” among the Presidents, which had +ruled (with the slight interregnum of Jefferson’s presidency) from +Washington’s presidency down to 1829. At that date John Quincy Adams +went out of office. He was succeeded by Andrew Jackson who was not +only a democrat, but a backwoodsman, a Southerner, and an apostle of +the common people. The only opposition Jackson need fear was from the +aristocratic and older South, in the person of John C. Calhoun, and to +a slight extent from the Northern Whigs. The latter party were soon +conciliated, and for the rest of that period under review, down to the +Civil War, we have a series of presidents whose democracy, slightly +tainted with Whiggism, leads to a remarkable series of compromises +between the agricultural and slave-holding South and the industrial +and trading North, and the ever-expanding Western territory which in +theory (but not in fact) lay equally open for both sections--Northern +and Southern--to settle upon and inhabit. What makes this period +remarkable in American history is first, the constant succession of +characterless and feebly respectable presidents--Van Buren, Fillmore, +Pierce, Buchanan--so characterless and feeble that a single Calhoun who +spent his lifetime in opposition to the whole system resembles a giant +by comparison; second, the increasing pressure on the southwest, on +Mexico, which resembles Nicholas First’s increasing pressure on Turkey; +and third, the growth of literature in the midst of a system which was +politically corrupt and persisted wholly on the principle of “to the +victors belong the spoils,” yet did such lip-service to respectability +that Hawthorne himself dared scarcely mention directly the word +“adultery” in his masterpiece. We would do well to recall the Russian +censorship in this connection, as also the fact that under Nicholas I, +government bribery and corruption (as revealed by the Crimean War) +reached a level only paralleled later under Nicholas II. + +Under such conditions, the genius of Gogol and Hawthorne came to +flower. So close were they, not only in the themes upon which they +worked, but in their personal psychology, their inmost successes and +failures, that it matters little which we take first. But inasmuch as +to the English-speaking Occidental, the Russian’s art illuminates by +contrast that of the American’s, whereas the reverse is less likely to +be true, we will take first the career and activity of the unhappy man +who more than any other, made Russian literature what it specifically +is. + + +2 + +Nikolay Vasilievich Gogol was born on March 19, 1809, in a market town +of Sorochintsky in the province of Poltava. He came from a family of +Ukrainian Cossack gentry. The district in which he had been born he +himself immortalized in his story of “Taras Bulba.” It was the district +beginning about two hundred miles south of Moscow, embracing Kiev and +the dangerous shallows and rapids that encumber the course of the +lower Dnieper, which was the important “river road” leading to what +throughout the Middle Ages was Russia’s main sea frontier: the frontier +of the Black Sea. In the words of an able American commentator on +Russian affairs this district, known as the Ukraine, was “the Border +Marches. Naturally it has varied, in different epochs, just as our +western frontier (pretty nearly its exact equivalent) varied at +different periods throughout the history of the United States, and was +pushed further and further from the eastern centre of civilisation. In +the case of Russia, Moscow represented that centre.”[6] + +In this district, then, Gogol was born. His people were the Ukrainian +Cossacks. This word meant to the Russian mind not an independent +race, but an independent class: the freebooter, the military nomad +of the boundless plain, the man whose home was the saddle, and whose +roof was in the sky, the exact counterpart of the Western American +“bad man.” But unlike the “bad man” of the West, these Cossacks had +been deliberately sent to populate the Ukraine by the policy of the +government. In the reign of Ivan the Terrible, it became necessary to +have a military force on this southwest frontier, in order to hold back +the Crimean Tartars, who were continually threatening Moscow through +advance from the Kherson peninsula. Czar Ivan thereupon collected +all the young men of adventurous disposition and warlike tendencies +that could be found for this purpose. Most of them were, in fact, +criminals--a body of men, warring alike upon Pole and Turk, who lived +in semi-monastic state in a movable capital on the banks of the +Dnieper, and who had become so great a menace to the Czar himself that +after Pugachev’s rebellion in the reign of Catherine the Great, they +were suppressed. It was from this group Gogol sprang. + +He was, in fact, the last flower of the old Cossack independence of +spirit. After a sensitive, sickly, and morbid boyhood, he drifted to +St. Petersburg at the age of twenty, equipped with nothing but a bad +idyllic poem and a boundless ambition and vanity. Here he was taken up +by literary society and his first book of Ukrainian tales, “Evenings +on a Farm near Dikanka,” made such a sensation that he rapidly became +a social lion. He produced more tales and attempted to become a +teacher of history with small success. But he became increasingly the +idol of the more idealistic Russian intellectuals whose spiritual +home was Moscow, and whose aims were Slavophilism. Towards this group +he gravitated increasingly. His comedy, “The Government Inspector,” +was an immediate and unqualified success of mingled admiration and +disparagement, and he was now able to go abroad, choosing Rome as a +place of residence. From there, he came back to Russia, with the first +part of his masterpiece “Dead Souls” (published 1842). But life abroad +and still more the homage paid to him, had convinced him that he must +have some greater mission than merely to be a writer. He must become +a prophet, and regenerate Russia spiritually. His first attempt in +this direction took the form of the religious prose polemic, “Select +Passages from a Correspondence with Friends.” In this book, he throws +overboard the St. Petersburg Liberals and the Moscow Slavophils alike, +and reveals himself shamelessly as a preacher of nothing but dumb +obedience to the Czar, ready to transform his mission of regeneration +into the rôle of an upholder of complete reaction in religious and +political matters. Only an intense egotist could have written such +a book, with its attacks on all who had helped him in the past, and +henceforth Gogol had no friends. He could not find peace either +within or without Russia, and pilgrimages to the Holy Land, restless +self-abnegations, tormented repentances, were alike in vain. In 1852, +he died having by his own act destroyed the greater portion of the +manuscript of the second part of his “Dead Souls.” + +The inner history of Gogol is that of a man who seeks freedom +everywhere but can find it nowhere in the self-satisfied, petty +bourgeois civilization of his epoch, with its scum of semi-concealed +political corruption floating on the top of artificial manners, its +apeing of foreign fashion, its sentimentality and sordidness. All this +comes out very strongly in the novel which is Gogol’s unquestioned +masterpiece, his “Dead Souls.” The hero of this book, Chichikov, +is a sort of picture of Gogol himself, in his aimlessness, his +self-satisfied inferiority, his timidity with women. He has conceived +a brilliant plan, of obtaining an heiress in marriage by representing +himself as a large landowner with a great number of serfs. To carry +this plan into effect, he buys up from the landowners of a certain +district, the serfs that have recently died or run away, and whose +names, not having been struck off the census rolls, still leave +their owners liable to payment of poll tax for them. Equipped with +this list of “dead souls” he intends to pose as a wealthy man, but +his scheme fails through his own impudence. Gogol certainly meant to +make Chichikov attractive, and even to show his “regeneration” in +the second part, which was never finished; but Chichikov remains at +best a mean-spirited busybody, at worst a base adventurer with an +undeveloped moral sense. What the book is chiefly remarkable for is +its extraordinary portrait gallery of characters each set in their +appropriate surroundings of Russian landscape. As Chichikov drives +hither and thither on his enterprise of cheating, we are treated to +a panorama of Russian landscape and of Russian life, and each is as +dreary as the other. This novel has been compared to “Pickwick Papers,” +but the laughter of “Dead Souls” is bitter and harsh and menacing. One +cannot avoid a feeling as one reads on and on that the dead peasants +whom Chichikov absorbs were at least once men, fully alive, unspoilt +and integral (however degraded their conditions of existence); but +that the living landowners who possess them--with the exception of +the half-crazy old maid Korobotchka who gives the plot away, and the +embittered miser Plyuskin,--are neither wholly alive nor honest. They +are walking ghosts, horrible simulacra; rotting away within, the +degenerate self-satisfied scions of all manner of public and private +corruption. + +“Dead Souls” remains valuable therefore chiefly as satire--a bitter +satire by a “soul” itself in peril of death; one who had come to +central Russia from the freer, wilder atmosphere of the frontier, +and who had there earnestly sought for truth and beauty only to find +stifling mediocrity, hypocrisy, and corruption. From this strain +of satire, Gogol himself vainly sought escape; escape into the +wild heroism of the old Cossack life vividly described in “Taras +Bulba,” escape into peasant folklore, escape into morbid religious +introspection. Gogol is usually credited with being the first +thorough-going Russian realist, but in fact realism was to him always +the enemy. On its face appeared the grin of the evil one, or the smirk +of the hypocrite. Only once is Gogol the objective realist in his play +the “Government Inspector.” Here he merely set down the facts, and gave +his skill in dialogue a free run. The result was equal to the most +bitter and cruel of all his satires; all the bitterer because here +there is no fantasy to fly to, no charm of sentiment to colour it. For +the whole of his life, Gogol struggled like a man in a net. He must +speak the truth, but the truth only hurt him. He must create beauty. He +had the courage to call “Dead Souls” a poem, and his whole career was +like a boldly planned and beautifully conceived raid of a daring chief +into the heart of a hostile country. But when he had arrived at the +summit of his career, beauty still mocked him from far away. Gogol left +Russian literature neither romantic nor realistic; he mingled humor +with bitter earnest, and magnificence with sordidness. In the end he +could not write any more. The warring forces within his soul tore him +to pieces. + + +3 + +The career of Hawthorne, if we set aside slight differences in early +environment and upbringing, was startlingly parallel. In his inner +life, Hawthorne was the exact counterpart to Gogol. He was born in +1804 of what might be called America’s radical aristocracy, the long +line of Puritan legalists, divines, and shipmasters that had been the +bulwark of the attacks against England’s unifying and centralizing +tendencies, from 1629 to the Revolution. An ancestor had taken part in +the hanging of witches and whipping of Quakers; just as an ancestor +of Gogol probably took part in the scenes of raid and rapine that are +so vividly told in “Taras Bulba.” A delicate childhood, a melancholy, +secretive and hypochondriac disposition, a precocious desire to +write, complete the picture. But unlike Gogol, Hawthorne did not have +to travel from his home to attain fame as a writer. He was born and +already established at the centre where all movement of ideas took +place: within sight of Boston. In his day, the force that had made the +Revolution a success, and had given New England the intellectual and +moral primacy of the New World, was already weakening. Further and +further off the frontier was moving, across the Mississippi. As each +new barrier interposed by nature was passed, the power of New England +waned. Already its trade and shipping were passing into the hands of +New York. Its population, moving out to the richer agricultural lands +of the Middle West, were maintaining all the faults of the Puritan +system, the greed, avarice, stiffness, and ugliness, without the +redeeming Puritan mental discipline. Hawthorne was therefore almost +the last flower of idealistic New England; the last flower of the old +stock that was to produce the first fine fruit of American literature. +And like Gogol, Hawthorne was primarily a humorist; but whereas Gogol’s +humour is lit up by savage hatred (which blazes to a great flame in +“Dead Souls,” despite Gogol), Hawthorne’s humor is made poignant by +the nostalgic hopelessness of regret. Behind Gogol’s mask is a sneer; +behind Hawthorne’s face one sees the terrible infinite vanity of all +earthly things. + +It is instructive in this respect, to compare Hawthorne’s finest novel, +“The House of Seven Gables,” with Gogol’s masterpiece, “Dead Souls.” +Where Gogol adopts a setting that seems to take in its sweep the +whole of the Russian landscape, Hawthorne confines his action to the +precincts of a single house. Yet in this small compass of space, with +the use of barely more than half-a-dozen characters, he conveys the +sense of a past stretching back to infinity; a past so remote, awful +and unchangeable that the present day of his novel is but a feeble +echo of its long-appointed doom. Over this thought of the past, as an +event that cannot be recalled or redeemed, Hawthorne returns again and +again, as Gogol returns again and again to his motive that the souls +of his characters are really dead and can only be brought to life in +the future. The ruin of a people is here summed up in the downfall of +a single family within the four walls of a house, as in Gogol the same +ruin pursues Chichikov everywhere. Both novels are novels about what +are literally “dead souls”--Hepzibah and Clifford and old Uncle Venner +and the daguerreotypist Holgrave are as impotent to break the doom that +weighs upon them as any of Gogol’s landowners. But the doom here is +concentrated on a single point, whereas in Gogol it is widespread and +diffused. + +In his admirable study of Hawthorne, Henry James suggests that the +“House of the Seven Gables” is more like a prelude or unfinished +sketch for a novel than a complete story. We know that Gogol was +unable to finish his novel, though he schemed that Chichikov should be +regenerated. Hawthorne did finish his, but the last chapters are an +anticlimax after what is the real end; the death of Judge Pyncheon, and +the flight of Hepzibah and Clifford. The real end is the railway: “At +one moment, they were rattling through a solitude; the next a village +had grown up around them; a few breaths more, and it had vanished ... +the spires of meetinghouses seemed set adrift from their foundations; +the broad-based hills glided away.” This flight into the external +world away from the accursed house which held them, is a liberation; +it is a removal without an aim, a complete escape from “what we call +real estate--the solid ground to build a house on--which is the broad +foundation on which nearly all of the guilt of the world rests.” This, +and not the weak anticlimax by which the story actually ends, is the +real conclusion, so far as there can be any conclusion, in Hawthorne’s +mind. To get away from property--to get away from land, to own +nothing--that is Hawthorne’s solution, his magic charm for breaking the +spell of the past. + +In Gogol’s novel, the same flight motive, which Hawthorne introduces +with skilful effect as a liberation from the House of Seven Gables, +rotting into ruin, is introduced and maintained throughout the story. +Chichikov moves hither and thither, forever aimless, forever wandering, +seeking to obtain something lasting; a mythical estate, imaginary +domain lures him on. He cannot be regenerated until he settles down and +heroically transcends his sordid past. Hawthorne’s characters cannot be +regenerated until they fly away from the past and become nonentities. + + +4 + +Here we see in its purest form the workings of that power-land +antithesis that we have already described as lying at the root of +the contrasted Russian and American psychology. The land on which +Hawthorne’s own characters pursue their existence warps their +characters; the power that the Russian helplessly desires to achieve, +warps the minds not only of Chichikov, but of all the other landowners +about him. Hawthorne himself could no more escape his heritage than +Gogol. He attempted to escape, in brilliant excursions into folklore, +such as “The Scarlet Letter,” in faintly objective comedy such as +“The Blithedale Romance,” finally even in life abroad. But in the end +he too had to confess himself beaten. The life of which he was so +fine a recorder became more and more a regretful memory of tradition; +and meantime the flood of democracy surged irresistibly past him to +other aims. Hawthorne could only be outwardly, but not inwardly, a +democrat. His political support of Franklin Pierce, and consequent +upholding of the rights granted to the Southern States at the time of +the making of the Constitution--including the right to hold slaves, and +to extend their territory--made him anathema to his own neighbours, +the abolitionists, to whom the Mexican War had become a shameful +memory, and who were about to give their support to the mad fanatic, +John Brown. Hawthorne went abroad after this, where he remained, very +indecisive in his attitude and writings till the eve of the Civil +War. That event disillusioned him completely. He declared publicly +that he considered that John Brown had been justly hanged; and that +the American’s allegiance, in the nature of things, was always to +one’s own native state, rather than to the country as a whole. These +remarks, duly deprecated by the editor of the paper in which they +appeared, only served to show that Hawthorne was now as much of a +disillusioned aristocrat as Gogol had been before him. He died, in +a fit of black melancholia, after making several abortive attempts +at writing a romance which would deal with the subject of a supposed +elixir of life,--attempts which came to nothing. Like Gogol, he was +one who had sought for happiness within his own country, and later +without, and had found it nowhere; but could not abandon the idea that +somewhere there existed a magic talisman that would set things right +and make life worth living. Because of the bitter fanaticism of this +hope--a hope which Europe from time to time also entertains but always +abandons--Gogol and Hawthorne were the first supremely great figures in +their national literatures. + + + + +Chapter XI + + +In the preceding chapter it was necessary, in speaking of Gogol, to +make some passing reference to Moscow Slavophilism. It was also hardly +possible to speak of Hawthorne without some reference to New England +Transcendentalism. These two great currents of thought, though they did +not of themselves produce the talent that was attracted to them, were +of such importance in the history of Russian and American culture that +it is impossible to write a summary of either without some reference to +them. It is the more necessary to do so, since these two forces both +took their rise from popular mysticism. + +Mysticism is a constant factor in the development of any nation. Only +in most European countries, especially in Latin and Catholic countries, +the aim of the spiritual rulers has been to keep mysticism in check, to +give it practical and constructive aims. This has been only possible +insofar as the Christian Church has itself assumed the discipline +and ordered ranks of the Roman army. The breakdown of discipline +before the Reformation led not, as Catholic historians would have +us believe, to any orgy of license, but to an unchecked explosion of +popular mysticism. This mysticism did not differ in kind, but only +in degree, from the famous mysticism of the Middle Ages. It was less +architectural, less social in essence; it depended more and more on an +individual and personal approach to God, on what the Catholic critic +would call “private judgment.” This “private judgment” was not long in +invading the Catholic Church itself. Compare for example St. Augustine +with Saint Theresa. The former is just as mystical at bottom as the +latter; but he constructs his “City of God” objectively, as a refuge +for all men. In Saint Theresa, on the other hand, all depends upon +personal approach, everything is transformed into a subjective relation +between the soul itself and its Maker, and all this has no end, no +beginning; it is an ecstasy equally out of time and place. Small wonder +that the theologians of Saint Theresa’s day thought her doctrine +suspect, if not highly heretical. + +Transcendentalism is simply a carrying to its logical end of this +doctrine of personal and popular mysticism. In New England, for a +century and a half before the Revolution, a battle had been waged for +the rights of the individual conscience, which had successively been +held to be superior to the organised church, to the combined church and +state, and ultimately to the law itself. To the Transcendentalists +there remained no longer any barrier between man and God; and Emerson’s +doctrine of self-reliance as well as his notion of the oversoul, +practically said “Let us be God.” It is well known how the Emersonian +oversoul led directly to the superman of Nietzsche; the only difficulty +that the Transcendentalists had in making themselves into supermen was +a lack of training. It was suddenly discovered, by whom it does not +matter, that the Hindoo ascetics possessed such training. The only sure +method therefore of transforming New England yokels and small-town +tradesmen into thorough-going “oversouls” was to become as Hindoo as +possible. Everyone went about reciting the Bhagavad-Gita; and Emerson +was able to refer in his Journal to the New England summer as being a +“Hindoo day.” + +It escaped the attention of the Transcendentalists that the Hindoo +ascetics whom they strove to imitate had not at all proclaimed the +liberty of conscience and the complete right of self-reliance which the +Americans asserted. The Hindoo ascetic accepts the idol of the meanest +of his compatriots, as authentically representing a god. This the +Transcendentalists were not prepared to do. They were individualists, +yet so democratic in theory as to suppose that merely by saying to +quite ordinary people, “Here is Emerson; go and make yourself more +like him,” the ordinary people would all be magically transformed +into New England Brahmins. Unfortunately human nature is not like +that--as Thoreau, at once the shrewdest and most sincere of the +Transcendentalists, admitted. + +Transcendentalism was therefore a brilliant pose, and its leaders soon +showed its lack of root in reality by upholding the fanatic minority +of the abolitionists, as well as by defending the conduct of such born +outlaws and desperadoes as John Brown. The same remark may be largely +applied to Slavophilism. This movement began as an aristocratic, +idealistic, sentimental movement on the part of the more intelligent +Moscow nobility to preserve authentic Russian culture against the +onslaughts of western European materialism. It therefore had distinct +leanings towards the Orthodox Church, and the maintenance of the Czar’s +power. Unfortunately, the Orthodox Church had become, since Peter +the Great, merely another branch of the State bureaucracy, under the +control of a Procurator of the Holy Synod, from whom the Patriarch took +orders; and the Czar himself had no idea of improving the system, or +of helping Russian culture, but only of maintaining his power intact. +The Slavophil movement therefore tended to play into the hands of the +reactionaries, and its belief in “Holy Russia” was as much a pose +as the belief of the Transcendentalists in Brahmin New England. It +nevertheless produced interesting minor figures, notably Aksakov, who +presents a curious parallel to Thoreau, which we here lack space to +discuss. + +These two movements, both mystical in essence, both quasi-oriental +in approach--for Slavophilism derives something from Buddhism, as +Transcendentalism owes much to Hinduism--produced between them the four +greatest geniuses that Russia and America have given to the world. +These four geniuses bridged in their life and work the great crises of +the sixties; the crisis marked by the Civil War between the States in +America, in Russia by the liberation of the serfs, and the tragic reign +of Alexander II. The value of these four great men, and still more +their failure, give us more than a merely political and social picture +of their respective epochs, a true insight into the measure of the +problems that Russia and America were given to contend with. We will +take the two men who made the more objective approach to these problems +first: Walt Whitman and Leo Tolstoy. + +It is utterly impossible to treat Tolstoy and Whitman apart for the +purposes of this study. Both were so completely and aboriginally a part +of their country in outlook that neither resembles anything whatsoever +European. Tolstoy’s natural view of European art and culture was +that everything in it was artificial, morbid, false, and above all, +sexually provocative--and Whitman persisted throughout his lifetime in +the error that European art simply glorified the airs and trappings +of outworn feudalism. Both turned away from an elaborate and complex +culture to the simplest native elements they could find; in Whitman +the dock-labourers, stage-drivers, longshoremen, and common workmen, +and in Tolstoy the shrewd and simple Kutuzov, the Cossack bandit, the +peasant saint. Apart from the fact that Whitman wrote in a rhythmical +poetry that was to be like no other poetry ever conceived, having +nothing of the stock poetical touches, the heightened style of the +old masterpieces, alternating from a direct realism to a vague and +incoherent mysticism, while Tolstoy wrote in a prose that at its best +is unparalleled for direct powers of keen observation, and at its worst +is dry and tedious like a Government report--apart from this fact, +Whitman and Tolstoy present precisely the same problem to the critical +intelligence. Both were divinely gifted amateurs, natures of immense +animal vitality and range of experience, imbued with a perpetual +itch for self-expression; pioneers and path-breakers of an art that +was to be at once popular and folk-art, and yet was to disdain all +the background of mythological fantasy on which folk-art ultimately +rests, and remain cold, clear, and rational. They combined together in +two unique and practically interchangeable individualities the most +elemental and earthern mysticism of the unspoilt, savage, and the +completely practical aim of the modern scientific philanthropist. + +There are, it is true, certain minor and slight differences between +them. Neither, despite their intense nationalism, was racially +completely assimilated to the country in which he lived and worked. +Tolstoy’s ancestry goes back to a Baltic, possibly East Prussian +strain; Whitman, as is well known, had Dutch blood in his veins. This +slight foreign element perhaps explains the self-centred aloofness +of either from the main intellectual current of their times. The +idealistic Orthodoxy of the Slavophil movement made no appeal to +Tolstoy; and Whitman, after a period in which he came under the direct +influence of Emerson, threw overboard Transcendentalism, with its +insistence on scholarship and intellectual culture. One may say also +that Whitman’s best work was all done before his breakdown in 1872, was +in fact done by the time of the close of the Civil War in 1865, while +Tolstoy’s best work was all done after that date down to his death. +This was to a certain extent due to the fact that Whitman was by nine +years the elder, but also due to the working of social and personal +factors that it will be part of our task to examine. Apart from this, +and apart from some minor differences such as the fact that Whitman’s +was fundamentally a feminine nature, glorifying sex theoretically as a +biological function, but in practice apt to dwell almost to the point +of mawkish morbidity on the magnetic charm of athletic masculinity, +while Tolstoy was so profoundly masculine as to despise women utterly +and yet to be always swayed by their sexual attractiveness--apart from +this purely personal divergence, the two forces in their literary +resultant, are interchangeable. Each represents an unalterable granitic +insensitive residue of final perception, at war with all outside +influences, rejecting every European refinement, and struggling to +spread itself over the world. These two, Tolstoy and Whitman, stand +alone in the history of their country’s thought as neither barbarians +nor decadents, but something far more elemental. They were essentially +backwoodsmen. + +Both had what is only common to the backwoodsman and the savage: +absolutely Adamic vision. If we can suppose a stage in human +consciousness when man is not subjective, does not project his longings +into the past or the future, is not concerned with what follows upon +death or what is the purpose of life, lets reason follow upon impulse +without any ulterior speculation as to whether reason is adequate +to explain, or impulse adequate to guide his effort--if we can +suppose such a stage, then Tolstoy and Whitman both stood in it from +the beginning. Whitman has marvellously described this stage in his +poem “There Was a Child Went Forth,” and Tolstoy in a passage of his +autobiography, and to this stage they both returned again and again. +Both stood on the same level of undifferentiated animal consciousness. +The intellectual development of both was fragmentary, the spiritual +evolution always at the mercy of some catastrophic “conversion.” What +Tolstoy describes himself as being at twenty he remained at fifty, +and the Whitman of the earliest “Leaves of Grass” is the same Whitman +that wrote “Specimen Days” twenty years later. To live in this fashion +is extremely difficult under modern civilised conditions, and Tolstoy +might have easily passed through a physical breakdown similar to that +which cut short Whitman’s career, had he not married an able and +efficient woman, and been the inheritor of a large estate. For the +Adamic vision, as I have described it, neither looks at things with the +practical materialistic vision of most modern men, nor at them with +the idealistic vision of the minority. It sees at once both sides, and +neither. To it a tree is not only a symbol of grateful shade, greenness +and eternal retreat from men, but also so much mere wood to be cut +down and burnt, and ultimately only a tree. The civilised man sees now +one side, now the other; the primitive man, the true Adamite sees both. + +It would be very easy to show how passage after passage in Tolstoy’s +work corresponds with other passages in Whitman’s work in this +quality of Adamic vision. One need only contrast the horse race in +“Anna Karenina,” the battle-fields or the burning of Moscow in “War +and Peace,” or that marvellous scene (also in “Anna Karenina”) where +the peasants mow the grass, and the proprietor of the fields takes +part in their labour, with many a passage out of Whitman--the superb +description of late afternoon in “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry,” the +passage beginning “I am the mashed fireman with breast-bone broken” in +“Song of Myself,” the completely captured sense of flight in “To the +Man-of-War-Bird,” the amazing rhythm and pulse of the sea-shore in “Out +of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking,” and many another poem. These two men +were so completely innocent and indifferent as regards intellectual +aspirations and metaphysical struggles that when confronted with +nature in its grandest and simplest aspects (which too is innocent and +indifferent) they at once felt at home, and gave us not “nature seen +through a temperament,” so much as nature itself. + +It is important also in this connection to note that both possessed a +supreme power of painting war. Whitman doubtless inherited a dislike +of war from his Quaker ancestry, and Tolstoy certainly opposed +war theoretically as being contrary to his favourite doctrine of +non-resistance. Yet it was precisely these two non-resisters who +gave us the most supreme war documents that we possess. The battle +scenes in “War and Peace” are unmatched in all literature except by +Whitman’s own “Drum-Taps.” Nor is there anything strange in this. To +the non-resistant, the man whose soul has learned a wise passivity, +the upholder of “vegetable life,” such as Whitman and Tolstoy were, +war is simply the spectacle of nature seen at its highest moment: +casually beautiful, unconsciously cruel, monotonous, arbitrary, +heedless of both good and evil. It is the logician, the metaphysician, +who escapes from this viewpoint and regards war as purposive action, +or as purposeless savagery. Neither Whitman nor Tolstoy were able to +take this attitude. To both war remained a Dionysiac orgy of nature, in +which they were able to merge their own passivity, and neither had the +slightest notion of the aims for which the side to which they happened +not to be attached was fighting for. Whitman supposed that the North +in the Civil War was fighting nothing but the “southern slave power,” +forgetting that the ranks of the South were filled not by mercenaries +(which every slave-power supports) but by free mountaineers in +butternut homespun, who had never owned a slave in their lives, were +utterly undisciplined in their ideas of freedom, and loved the cause +of local independence more than their lives; while the northern armies +increasingly became full of conscripted German and Irish immigrants +without the remotest attachment to their adopted country. And Tolstoy +equally marred the whole plan of his “War and Peace” with a portrait of +Napoleon that is nothing but spiteful and partisan caricature--he makes +Napoleon little short of idiotic, forgetting utterly that the Napoleon +who crossed the Russian frontier was a Napoleon who had acquired the +fatal habit of hesitation--extremely common in Russia--and that the +army he led had equally acquired the habit of indiscipline--another +Russian trait. + + +2 + +But this is not the place for a complete estimate of these two great +men. Otherwise, we would be obliged to take into account the fact +that Tolstoy began as a psychological analyst, and progressed through +ever broader objectivity to his final transformation into a moral +feuilletonist, while Whitman exactly reversed the process. Our object +here is a more difficult one; to examine the type of mind likely to +be produced by such frontier civilisations as America and Russia, and +thereby to estimate their influence on other minds. The problem is +psychological and social, rather than cultural and literary. Therefore +we must pass on from the great achievements of these two men to the +narrower and more purely personal foundations of æsthetic theory on +which those achievements rested. + +The aim of the Transcendentalists was to transform native New England +independence of character into something culturally significant by +interfusing it with pantheistic mysticism derived alike from Hindu +and American Indian sources. The aim of the Slavophils was to exalt +the primitive folk culture and institutions of the Russian peasant by +similarly emphasising its mystic and Orthodox Christian side. The one +rested on the zemstvo of the Russian village; the other on the New +England town meeting. Each was in fact nothing more than a theory based +upon the assumption that the Russian, or American, was as such superior +to the European. + +To this theory Whitman and Tolstoy responded by making a practical +experiment. What they said in effect was this:--“You say the ordinary +bark-shoed peasant, the ordinary New England backwoodsman, is capable +of finer shades of feeling than any that Europe can show. Very well +then. We will be respectively in our lives a backwoodsman and a +peasant, and thereby transform ourselves into the greatest artists of +our country.” + +Viewed from this standpoint Whitman’s “Democratic Vistas” and his +Preface to the first edition of “Leaves of Grass” are the most +important of his writings, as Tolstoy’s “What is Art?” and his later +polemics are the most important of his. Both artists started from +themselves, and tried to deduce a general law from a particular +instance. Whitman’s proposition (to take that first) was, if we +disengage it from the vague phraseology in which he chose to wrap it, +as follows:-- + +“America differs from anything either European or Asiatic in the fact +that it is politically entirely a democracy. Yet this democracy will +never come to anything unless it produces forms of art, literature, +religion to correspond to its native institutions. These forms of art +can only grow on this soil, in their appropriate atmosphere, and to +make them grow I will produce poems such as I think any democratic +person can truly read and enjoy. These works or works akin in spirit to +them must become, in the future, the perfect canons of form.” + +To this specious plea American democracy responded by twice prosecuting +Whitman’s work for alleged indecency; by almost literally starving +him to death--if he had not been maintained by special European +financial support after his breakdown in 1872, this starvation might +have been an accomplished fact--and by neglecting him in his life and +afterwards. It is true that Whitman took compensation in his last years +by surrounding himself with a small group of adulators who went to the +extent of comparing him to Buddha and Christ. But his own work and his +life suffered. If he had not mistakenly thought his own message (with +all its blunders) more important than any life he might live, he might +perhaps have married Mrs. Gilchrist or another, and have recovered +strength enough to give us a second masterpiece, equal to “Leaves of +Grass.” His achievement, with its very human traits, has suffered +woefully from being concealed in the clouds of incense cast to heaven +by a tiny minority of Whitman-idolaters. As a matter of fact, not one +in ten thousand or a hundred thousand Americans is ever able to get +anything out of his poetry, or to realise that his theory is anything +but an utter confusion of art and morals. Whitman has had no successor +in his own country, and the chief influence of his work has been abroad. + +Tolstoy’s problem was very similar. He, too, as a combination of +mystic and rationalist, set himself the task of practically realising +the programme of Slavophilism; but the path he had to pursue to this +end was in itself very different from that which the Slavophils +followed. He had first of all to forget the fact that he was born a +landowner, with all the caste prejudices and conservative impulses of +the agricultural nobility; and he had to become as nearly as possible, +inwardly and outwardly a peasant. It took Tolstoy a long time, and in +the end left him with a much clearer, albeit a more radical message, +than Whitman. This message he sets out in his famous “What is Art?” + +The basis of Tolstoy’s æsthetics is contained in the following +sentences:--“Art is a human activity consisting in this, that one man +consciously, by means of certain external signs, hands on to others +feelings that he has lived through, and that others are infected by +these feelings and also experience them.” And further “Art is not, as +the metaphysicians say, the manifestation of some mysterious idea of +beauty or of God; it is not, as the æsthetic physiologists say, a game +in which man lets off his excess of stored-up energy; it is not the +expression of man’s emotion by external signs, it is not the production +of pleasing objects, and, above all, it is not pleasure; but it is a +means of union among men, joining them together in the same feelings +and indispensable for the life and progress towards well-being of +individuals and of humanity.” + +It is worth noting, in regard to the first part of this definition, +that apparently an art which has ceased to infect humanity with its +feelings, has ceased to become art in Tolstoy’s eyes. Let us take for +example the well-known example of Cretan art. Undoubtedly, this was +art, and infected people with its feelings at one time. The Cretan +civilisation however perished, and remained unknown till the late +nineteenth century. During all this time, the Cretans according to +Tolstoy’s definition, were not artists since their art infected no +one with its feelings. Suddenly, after Sir Arthur Evans’ discoveries +the Cretans became artists again. In other words, Tolstoy takes the +capacity of art to influence others for good or ill, for art itself. +Precisely the same mistake was made by Whitman. He too supposed that +poetry, simply because it was poetry, would have the capacity to +breed a “huskier race of orators and bards,” would unite America in +“the manly love of comrades,” would even be eugenic in its effect of +producing the ideally perfect type of woman. The error in both cases is +rather like that of a man who has mistaken the programme of a concert +for the effect of the music upon him. + +But there is still a more serious error behind Tolstoy’s doctrine. +He declares, in revolt against the “art for art’s sake” doctrine +fashionable in his time, that “art is a means for union among men, +joining them together in the same feelings.” He might have reflected +that the only art that had historically done so was, like the +cathedral-art of the Middle Ages, rooted entirely in a religious +doctrine accepted by all ranks of society, and it was this religious +and moral doctrine, and not the quality of the work itself, that made +it “a means for union among men.” But Tolstoy in his rationalistic +fervour, had already rejected the mystical solution of the Orthodox +faith, and unlike Whitman, did not hope to replace the older attitude +towards religion with any new outlook. Consequently he argued that +art which did not teach human unity and brotherhood was not art at +all, and devoted himself to demolishing Shakespeare and Wagner, the +nineteenth century Frenchmen, and ultimately his own best work. He +tried to transform art into a moral tract for peasant consumption; and +supposed that unless he became a peasant himself, he could not any +longer be an artist. The error was enormous. It is not by wearing bast +shoes and plowing one’s own fields that one acquires the range of power +and feeling necessary to create an epic like “War and Peace” or the +“Iliad.” To behave as Tolstoy did, is simply to mistake the outward +means of life for its end in inner spirituality. A Saint Francis, a +Lao-Tze, could cast away the whole apparatus of luxury and vanity and +remain great artists, because the feeling of such men remained on the +same plane of transcendental human understanding as that of Beethoven +or of Shakespeare. But Tolstoy did not ultimately understand or share +anyone’s feelings but his own, and he made war incessantly upon his own +nature. Therefore he drew upon himself Dostoevsky’s profound criticism +that he was like “an animal who runs in a certain direction till he has +to turn his head, and cannot do so without turning his entire body, +and running in the opposite direction.” And the profound criticism of +Whitman is to be found in the writings of a Southerner, Lanier, who +remarked that just because the Mississippi River or Niagara Falls were +great, Whitman thought he could become equally great by writing about +them. + + +3 + +Whitman and Tolstoy both failed in their aims, but Whitman’s enforced +admission of failure wrung from him in the end an attitude that is more +attractive, humanly speaking, than Tolstoy’s final inhuman rejection +of all human contact. It was fortunate, however, that both died before +they saw the inevitable end to which their theories led. Whitman’s +glorification of the average American, instead of the rare exception, +developed a race of human beings of which Mr. Sinclair Lewis’ “Babbitt” +is the type; the completely self-satisfied, idea-hating, greedy +and noisily vulgar herd-man of the Middle West, without æsthetic +imagination or spiritual depth of any kind. Tolstoy’s ideal of a +peasant aristocracy no less in the end developed the “kulak,” becoming +familiar to us since the Bolshevist accession to power:--the peasant +who having made his bargain with the community, becomes so inert and +rooted in his power that he will not even grow a grain of corn more +than is necessary to feed himself, nor acquire the education that is +offered him beyond the extent that his own interests dictate. The two +types closely resemble each other and we may have more to say about +them. For the present it is enough to observe that Tolstoy and Whitman +sacrificed their lives and strength and talents (which were not small +ones) towards the establishment of states of society and of human +types that, if either were alive to-day, they would be the first to +reject. The reason why this result came about was due, however, not to +some personal fault of their own, but to mistaken premises on the part +of great masses of their own countrymen. The Transcendentalists had +exalted self-reliance, which in the end comes down to a bare personal +preference by which the Philistine is the equal of the artist and +above all social discipline. Whitman simply led this hypothesis to its +natural conclusion. The Slavophils had mistaken the rooted inertia and +conservatism of the peasant for a superior spiritual faith; Tolstoy +showed that this faith could not subsist on the same terms as the faith +that had produced the masterpieces of higher culture. Each made what +was essentially the same mistake. Both overlooked the fact that we +cannot make man better, or nobler, or happier in the last resort--we +cannot lift life above the level on which it stands--merely by +multiplying the common denominator of the needs and desires of humanity. + + + + +Chapter XII + + +The Civil War in America and Alexander Second’s freeing of the serfs +in Russia, which took place at the same time, were very different +in their effect upon the two countries. The Civil War, as the most +intelligent of the Transcendentalists, Thoreau and Hawthorne, foresaw, +was not likely to turn out into a victory of New England mysticism +over Southern rationalism and materialism. The desperate gallantry and +lost-cause chivalry with which the South flung itself into the struggle +and maintained it for the first two years, soon disabused everyone +but the politicians. The real balance of power lay with the northern +industrialists, busily making munitions and army equipment, and with +the population of the yet unformed border communities of Illinois, +Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas. After 1862 the victory, if victory was to +be won, would fall with its spoils, not to the abolitionists (the +most honest of whom, William Lloyd Garrison, was in favor of letting +the South go) nor to the small group of learned and cultivated New +Englanders, but to the steel magnates of Pennsylvania, the squatter +immigrants of the prairie, rapidly building Chicago, their true +capital, where the name of Emerson was unknown. The Civil War was the +first heavy defeat for American culture, and it is doubtful if America +has ever completely recovered from it. Coming as it did, before either +the North or the South had reached their fullest mental development, +and while the West was still mentally and physically undeveloped, it +only transferred power to the frontier and provided another episode in +the progressive decentralisation and deculturisation of America. + +Far otherwise was it at the other end of the scale. Alexander’s action +in liberating the serfs, and his own liberal tendencies, sent a wave of +hope over everyone in Russia, and not least over the Slavophils. Their +programme was about to be accomplished. The next twenty years following +1860 is the richest and most remarkable period in Russian literature +until we reach the period that beginning about 1900, covers the present +day. During this time not only Tolstoy did his best work, which we have +already dealt with, but these years also covered the entire mature +achievement of another great Russian, who in his absolute uniqueness as +a spiritual force, surpasses even Tolstoy: Feodor Dostoevsky. One of +the few figures that we can remotely set beside him (and that we can do +so even remotely is a fact in itself of some significance) is that of +his American contemporary Herman Melville. + +There can be little basis for comparison between the outward careers +of the son of the poor Russian doctor (with Volhynian, perhaps remote +Polish blood in his veins) who came to St. Petersburg at the age of +twenty-two to make a literary sensation with his first story, and who, +three years later, having taken part in meetings of a group of young +Socialists of markedly westernizing tendencies, was sent off to penal +servitude in Siberia, where he remained for ten years; and the life +of the scion of two of the proudest and most aristocratic of American +colonial families, who became stricken with poverty at twelve, ran away +to sea, tried school-teaching for three years, shipped aboard a whaler +at twenty-two, returned at twenty-four, married, poured out literary +work for about ten years, and relapsed again into the silence of +complete oblivion for over twenty years. When one adds the detail that +Dostoevsky’s period of imprisonment and exile in Siberia very nearly +corresponds to Melville’s sole period of creative work (1849-1859 in +Dostoevsky’s case, and 1847-1856 in Melville’s) one realises that +neither time nor space can be used as a basis of comparison. The +true comparison lies inward: in the unique spiritual torment, the +unsatisfied thirst for perfection that made Dostoevsky and Melville +what they were. + +In the history of every great nation there comes a time when the need +of men to find what may be called the Golden Age becomes acute. This +search for the ideal, as it influences literature, is often attacked +by modern literary critics under the name of Romanticism. Nevertheless +nineteenth century Romanticism has very little in common with this +particular striving, which probably affected the Greeks just when they +touched high-water mark in the fifth century, certainly was present +with the Romans from Virgil onwards, and woke again with the first +stirrings of the Italian Renaissance. It seems as if man cannot create +his highest flights of beauty and imagination without the longing for +some marvellous Utopia to be finally achieved to lure him on. In the +case of the English race, the prospect and aspiration towards this +Golden Age in dream and in reality spanned the age of the Tudors, and +Shakespeare speaks its last farewell in “The Tempest’s” air-borne +music. To the Americans and the Russians the hope of a new birth, +arising from the ashes of the past, had existed as we have seen, from +the beginning; but their literature had been born prematurely old and +disillusioned in regard to what was the faith, not of the cultured few, +but the majority. Hawthorne had turned away from the life of his epoch +to brood on the shapes evoked for him by ancestral memories. Gogol had, +after a brief attempt to show the heroic past in its tragic splendor, +turned aside to acridly and bitterly satirize the present. But the +forces of Transcendentalism and Slavophilism had shown that however +evil the present might be, life and literary work would be impossible +in Russia and America, without hope and trust in the future. This +hope Tolstoy and Whitman tried to turn into hard, rational, everyday +reality. Melville and Dostoevsky on the other hand were not concerned +with what was practical reality--their aspirations were too great for +that--but with the vaster if more indefinite world of human hearts and +souls. They sought to go beyond the gospel of Transcendentalism and +Slavophilism into a search for the ultimate perfection of the human +type. + + +2 + +Feodor Michaelovitch Dostoevsky was born on October 30, 1821, at +Moscow. His father was an army doctor, who combined in his life the +vices of alcoholism and of avarice. The family was well-to-do, and +possessed estates in the country, together with a certain number of +serfs, but the elder Dostoevsky (who had many of the characteristics +of old Karamazov) not only denied his family support, but behaved in +such an insupportable manner towards his own peasants, that while on +a visit to one of his estates, he was smothered by the serfs with the +cushions of his own carriage. This tragic event haunted Dostoevsky +through all his later life. About the mother (who appears to have been +an ineffectual, harmless personage) we know little. Young Dostoevsky +was sent with his brother to St. Petersburg at twenty-one, to join +the Government Corps of Engineers, but soon abandoned this to take up +writing. Already he was afflicted with a mild form of epilepsy, which +was aggravated by his disorderly and riotous mode of existence. His +first novel, “Poor Folk,” created a mild sensation; the “literature +of pity,” the sentimental novel of the Dickens type was in the air, +and Dostoevsky’s work was of the sort to please the public taste. He +became acquainted with Belinsky and Nekrassov, the leading critic and +poet of the time, and was hailed as the true heir of Gogol’s tradition. +He soon became familiar with the advanced literary circles, which +were extremely radical in politics, and this led to his downfall. He +joined the political group of one Petrachevsky where the questions of +constitutional government on the English model, abolition of serfdom, +and freedom of the press were ardently debated. The whole group was +arrested, and after having the death-sentence passed on them, were +led into the prison yard to be executed, when a messenger came forward +announcing that this sentence had been commuted to imprisonment and +exile in Siberia. There Dostoevsky remained for ten years, till 1859. + +It was not until after his return to Russia, and after his marriage +which took place in Siberia had proved a total failure, and after a +violent and lacerating love affair with a demoniacal and coldly proud +woman, that Dostoevsky found himself as a writer. The book in which +he found himself, though it has not the fame of the greater novels, +is in reality the key to his life and thought. It is called “Memories +from the Underground,” and was written in 1862. It was followed by +“Crime and Punishment,” “The Idiot,” “The Gambler,” “The Possessed” (to +give it its English title; the Russian title is, properly speaking, +“Devils”), and “The Brothers Karamazov.” During these later years, +Dostoevsky’s life was not less harrowing than during the earlier. His +second marriage, with a young unspoilt girl who was devoted to him, +gave him some happiness, but his later years were harassed by constant +money troubles, and from 1867 to 1874 he had to live abroad, as a +penniless bankrupt. This state of affairs was further aggravated by a +mania for gambling which possessed him, and by his epileptic seizures, +now grown acute. His complete break with the Western liberals of +his youth, and his whole-hearted adoption of a mysticism resting on +Orthodoxy, alienated his early friends; and the Slavophils with whose +doctrines he now sympathised were repelled by his rudeness of manner, +his contempt for good society, and a sort of masked anarchism that +they perceived in him. Nevertheless, his “Brothers Karamazov,” which +appeared in the year before his death, made Dostoevsky popular, and his +Pushkin address, delivered a few months before the end, was a sort of +apotheosis. He died suddenly, as the result of an aggravated quarrel +with some relatives over money affairs, early in 1881. + +Dostoevsky’s thought may be thus summarized: The human soul was to +him of incommunicable, unique value. And not only the human soul of +the higher ranks of society, but that of the lower, the “injured and +oppressed,” those who had been warped and embittered by the world and +by man. Dostoevsky knew well that he was such a warped individual, and +that nothing could heal him except some miracle of divine and earthly +harmony. This miracle could only be brought about by the production of +some superior human type, who would at once be “master of the world,” +a superman and yet one who sympathised and understood the lowest and +most degraded of men. But the trouble was that such types, the Father +Zossimas, the Alyosha Karamazovs, the Prince Myshkins, stood aloof from +the world and innocent of its temptations, they were ineffectual pure +fools, and in the world’s eyes, “Idiots.” On the other hand the world, +and Russia in particular (in whose destiny Dostoevsky forced himself +to believe with the anguished fervor of one who had been made to +suffer by it, and yet who had no other country) was likely to progress +in the exactly opposite direction and to produce the anti-Christian +“superman,” the serene monster, cold-bloodedly dabbling in ultimate +iniquity. Dostoevsky’s major work is a vast descent into the abyss +of human perversion, at the bottom of which stood hell, like a “cold +bathhouse filled with spiders.” If Tolstoy was as Adam before the fall, +Dostoevsky was Adam after. + +Herman Melville, on the other hand, was born in the inner circle of +America’s colonial aristocracy. His father, a descendant of English +landowners and Revolutionary patriots, travelled abroad as a young man, +was highly cultivated for his time, but allowed the family fortune +to slip through his fingers. He died when Melville was only twelve +years old, leaving his family bankrupt. His mother, a cold, proud, and +essentially selfish descendant of the most notable of the colonial +Dutch settlers who had rallied to Washington’s side, did nothing +to mitigate the poverty of her family, and at the age of seventeen, +Melville shipped before the mast as a common seaman on a voyage to +Liverpool. This voyage, later described in “Redburn,” seems to have +opened Melville’s eyes to the cruelty and injustice of the world. He +returned after a painful experience as a penniless waif in England, to +America, and tried school teaching for a number of years. Meanwhile +he was writing, desultorily and badly. In 1840, when twenty-one years +of age, he again, in a fit of desperation, went to sea, this time on +a whale ship bound to the South Seas. How he deserted his ship at the +Marquesas, lived for a time with cannibals, returned to Tahiti, saw the +inside of a jail, and finally became a common seaman aboard an American +man-of-war which brought him back to his native country, is all fully +told in his first two books “Typee,” “Omoo,” and their later successor +“White Jacket.” The return to America in 1846 enabled Melville to +devote himself to literature, and his first book “Typee,” recounting +his adventures in the Marquesas, made a sensation in England and +America, being a “success of scandal” in the latter country on account +of certain passages not complimentary to the missionaries in the South +Seas. After writing its successor, “Omoo,” Melville married. The +marriage, with a woman of wealth and position, brought only further +disillusionment, as it is apparent that Elizabeth Shaw, daughter of +the Chief Justice of Massachusetts, had neither imagination nor tact +to sympathise with her husband’s work nor his sensitive temperament. +A family of children soon engrossed her, and Melville was forced to +struggle on alone in the effort to support not only his wife, but his +mother (who despised him heartily) and his wife’s sister as well. There +followed in rapid succession, “Mardi” (1848), “Redburn” (1848) and +“White Jacket” (1849) written to support his waning fortunes. In 1849, +he went to England, which had begun to take very favourable notice of +his work, and he might have become there a minor literary lion, but +family concerns, and perhaps also his own aloof independence of spirit, +soon recalled him. The first fruits of his return were “Moby Dick” and +“Pierre,” the two masterpieces of the mature Melville. A disastrous +fire at his publishers which destroyed the plates of his works, the +hostility of the reviewers to “Pierre,” Hawthorne’s defection from +friendship, the increasing lack of understanding of his own family, and +ill-health, all conspired to embitter him. After one or two further +attempts, and a second trip abroad on which he wrote the poem “Clarel,” +which could not even find a publisher, Melville retired from the field. +His last years were spent as collector of the customs of the port of +New York, where he died in 1891. His death passed absolutely unnoticed, +and it is only in the last decade that he has begun to emerge into the +fame that life denied him. + +Melville’s work began as a continuation of the adventure story as +practised by Cooper. “Typee” and “Omoo” are largely what they purport +to be; a sublimation of actual experience of a white man amongst +strange countries and savage peoples with a considerable dash of +idyllic and exotic colouring. But Melville’s attitude towards the +savages of the South Seas (to which he came, be it noted, after the +disillusionment and shattering of early romantic hopes recounted in +“Redburn”) was very different from the skilled idealisation of the +remote practised by Cooper. He was the first man to ask himself and +others the question, “If this savage life is so much more rational and +sensible than Christianity, why pretend to be Christian?”--a question +to which to this day there has remained no answer. Thus he early became +profoundly suspicious of the virtues of his own countrymen, while at +the same time (like Dostoevsky) he knew himself innately bound to his +own country by unbreakable ties. He thus affirms the sole achievement +that Christianity really has to its credit, the conquest of the world +by democracy, while at the same time his eyes are open to all the +evil done daily in the world in the name of democracy. This profound +division of self, this inner warping grew up early in him, and the +struggle was but intensified by his boyish adoration of his selfish, +purse-proud, and beautiful mother, which turned to disgust after his +father’s death. Thus he interjected into the sea-story elements which +had nothing whatever to do with realistic experience; elements derived +from his profound knowledge of the ways of humanity, intensified by +his own loneliness and aloofness from mankind. Very early he seems +to have traversed the waste of German metaphysics, and to have +become a transcendentalist, if not before Emerson, at least coeval +with Hawthorne. Each of the major novels, “Redburn,” “White Jacket,” +“Moby Dick,” “Mardi,” is less the description of an actual voyage +than a terrible allegoric record of spiritual defeat and despair. +Even “Redburn,” the one most based perhaps on actual experience, is +haunted by the figure of Jackson, a vision of pure unadulterated evil; +and the two last are desperate flights of imagination away from the +world. In all his best work, except “Pierre,” Melville makes us walk +a ship’s deck, which should be the breeding ground of the most mystic +whole-hearted democracy on earth, and in every line and passage he +shows us how this fair scene, seen from within man’s soul, is only hell. + + +3 + +It is customary among literary critics to devote attention to +Melville’s remarkable style, and to stress the point that Dostoevsky’s +major novels are nothing but glorified detective stories. It is true +that Melville possessed a style that in its measured eloquence was the +equal and sometimes the superior of his models, De Quincey and Sir +Thomas Browne, and that--at its best--makes the style of Hawthorne +shrivel into insignificance. It is true also that all of Dostoevsky’s +great works centre about a commonplace murder, and that he uses the +most elementary devices of suspense and horror to heighten our interest +about this murder. But the significant thing is that neither Melville’s +long purple passages, surcharged with descriptive power, by which he +makes you see every detail of his scenes in an unearthly light, nor +Dostoevsky’s interminable hysteric conversations, in which each of +his characters tries in turn to lay bare the inmost criminal secret +of his or her soul, are anything more than skilful devices to set out +the heart of the subject, which is in both cases the complete, candid, +and terribly disillusioned revelation of the workings of the naked and +helplessly-entangled human soul. Both carried pure character-creation +to a point beyond that which any other writer has attempted, except +perhaps Shakespeare in “Hamlet”; and both, like Shakespeare in +“Hamlet,” were obsessed by their characters, and obsessed above all by +the “mystery of iniquity,” the infinite perversion and moral deformity +of humankind. + +It is possible to show how this is so only by a direct comparison of +the masterpiece of both men. “The Brothers Karamazov” is outwardly, at +least, the story of the murder of a wealthy landowner by his sons. But +a moment’s examination of the character of old Karamazov, the landowner +in question, will convince us that no such man as old Karamazov could +possibly exist in actual flesh. He transcends all human limitations. +He is not only a coarse wine-bibber, and an avaricious miser with his +money, like Dostoevsky’s own father, but an unbridled sensualist, a +cynic, a sentimentalist, and a buffoon--none of which Dostoevsky’s +father ever was. He is, in short, an encyclopædia of all Russian vices, +is in fact, a symbol of that Old Russia which Dostoevsky saw had to +be put to death. And as such, he triumphs in life and death over his +sons. The oldest, Ivan, who is also the noblest, sees his faith in +God and man destroyed by the monstrous conduct of his father, and +goes insane; the second, Dmitri, follows a crooked path of sensuality +and sentimentality, but is redeemed by some traits of generosity for +which he has to suffer; the youngest of all, Alyosha, fancies that he +has gained redemption and become “a new man” by entering a monastery, +but in the end has to admit that he too is in essence “Karamazov.” +The actual murder is consummated by Smerdyakov, the unacknowledged +offspring of Karamazov himself and a gutter-drab; he hangs himself, and +Dmitri has to suffer the penalty. The end of the book leaves Dostoevsky +questioning alike human and divine justice; there is no solution, +except perhaps in suffering, and the shout of “Hurrah for Karamazov!” +with which the story closes, may conceal an even deadlier irony. + +Melville’s “Moby Dick” is very different as regards setting, but its +import is even more clear. Here we have what purports to be the story +of a whaling-cruise. But in fact the story from beginning to end is +pure allegory, thinly disguised with masses of irrelevant detail about +whales and whaling. Moby Dick, the White Whale, whose killing is the +special aim of the ship’s cruise, is nothing but a symbol: a symbol of +the unearthly, unconquerable, superhuman--and after all is said and +done, strangely beautiful--power of evil. He exists in every sea of the +world, but it is precisely in the “Pacific,” in the heart of a noonday +calm, that he is found. He has been sighted before, but never without +disaster; has been hunted by others, but has always escaped. Captain +Ahab, master of the ship that is now seeking him, has been disabled by +him, in a previous encounter, having lost one leg. This Captain Ahab is +Melville’s symbol of the human will in its highest and most courageous +aspect; the human will that, not having been able to conquer evil by +fair means, in direct battle, now strives to do so by unhallowed ones. +By a stroke of superb genius, Melville makes him master even of the +souls of simple savages; his three chief harpooners are respectively a +South Sea Islander, a Negro, and an American Indian. His control over +his three mates, all of whom represent some shade of manly courage, is +also practically absolute. Moby Dick is duly hunted, and destroys the +ship and Ahab alike in a scene whose magnificence of prose and mounting +terror alike have no parallel in anything written by man. The only +person who has foreseen the inevitable tragedy is an idiot boy, to whom +no one pays attention; the only one who survives it is the outcast, +Ishmael, who tells the story. + +Here, too, the parallel with Shakespeare is inevitable. As Dostoevsky +recalls “Hamlet,” and in part “Othello,” so Melville recalls the +Shakespeare of “Macbeth” and “King Lear.” If we can suppose a Lear +endowed with superhuman force, who instead of wandering out upon +the heath and raving, feeds his insanity with the steady thought of +revenge, and at last sets out, backed by others, to accomplish it, +we get in this Lear a complete picture of Ahab. He is undaunted, so +long as his ship lasts, ready to match weapons with God Himself. Only +when his ship goes down before the battering onrush of the superhuman +power behind Moby Dick does Ahab momentarily give way; and then but to +recover and hurl another unavailing harpoon at his antagonist. Ship +and captain alike go down in the struggle, and the last thing seen is +a topmast pennon floating above the waters, with a sky-hawk entangled +in its folds: “And so the bird of heaven with his whole captive form +enfolded in the flag of Ahab, went down with his ship which, like +Satan, would not sink to hell till she had dragged a living part of +heaven along with her, and helmeted herself in it.” “Then all collapsed +and the great shroud of the sea rolled on as it rolled five thousand +years ago.” To the problem of evil Melville has no more an answer, +then, than Dostoevsky. He can but suggest that if evil conquers, it +is so much the worse for God who lets evil conquer; a solution to +which Dostoevsky might have answered in the words of Kirillov in +“The Possessed,” that God in that case was dead, and man must become +God. That Melville adds his favourite tag “all is vanity,” to this +conclusion would seem to Dostoevsky an impertinence. “We have to live +nevertheless,” he might have retorted; a fact poor Melville often +neglected to take into account. + +Before Melville arrived at this conclusion, that the world was more +evil than good, he too had striven to portray the ideal human type of +his dreams. Jack Chase in “White Jacket” (who is significantly made an +Englishman) is the apotheosis of Melville’s type; the bluff, hearty, +pleasant Anglo-Saxon blend of Pagan and Puritan. Perhaps it was his own +wavering between England and America (where the bluff, hearty, pleasant +type is but too frequently in practice a hypocrite and a bully to boot) +that made Melville select for his life’s loyalty, this sort of being, +and not continue his search into the deeper waters of the human soul; +certainly it was his own reticent prudery in sexual matters--a prudery +not shared by the great Russian with whom his name is here linked--that +made him hesitate before what must have been the final statement of his +problem. What that statement might have been, “Pierre” exists to show; +Melville in the end meant to portray evil as seductive but ruinous, and +good as purely negative and helpless. The public would have none of +this, and Melville decided to keep silent about the dangerous secret +of his own philosophy. That he did not continue to write was America’s +second great disaster in the field of culture; following on the Civil +War, it was a double fatality scarcely paralleled elsewhere, and +certainly not in Russia. But in his transformation of the realistic +adventure story into the “allegory of Good and Evil” Melville perhaps +pointed the way to American authors as yet unborn. + + + + +Chapter XIII + + +The last chapter of our study of the two literatures--Russian and +American--has, in its study of four great figures, brought the story +to a climax. Nothing is more characteristic of the mental history of +the two countries than the way in which under Whitman and Tolstoy, +Dostoevsky and Melville, the whole problem of democracy in relation to +art, and the whole problem of human aspiration in its strife with evil, +was examined and investigated. But the generation that followed was not +able to profit by their example. The great climax was succeeded by an +anti-climax; and Russian literature, no less than American literature, +after the seventies, assumes the picture of a sterile and uncultivated +plain. + +This state of affairs was due to the operation of social and economic +causes. The great reforms adopted in Russia by Alexander II to +signalise his advent to the throne were halted; first, by an attempt +at assassination made in 1866; second, by the sort of advance _en +masse_ which always takes place in Russian history after a period of +increasing internal peace and prosperity. The surplus population of +released serfs and discontented landowners now swarmed east across the +Urals and opened up the whole of the fertile lands of Siberia to the +borders of Mongolia. This expansion was followed by the usual reaction +in the shape of a war with Russia’s old enemy Turkey (1877); a war +in which Russia gained nothing, and which disillusioned everybody, +including even the Slavophils. + +The course of events in America was not essentially different. The +close of the Civil War marked an enormous expansion of the American +territory westward, and the whole region, from the foothills of the +Rockies to the Sierras and beyond to the Pacific became inhabited. The +first transcontinental railway was built in the shape of the Missouri +Pacific; and the period of the seventies was a period of furious +speculation, of fierce political tension, of steady industrial growth +and agricultural expansion. In this “Gilded Age” of America’s new-won +prosperity, the question of a native culture and of the fine arts were +largely lost sight of. The only part of the country that resisted the +general drive towards increasing economic and industrial development +was the South, and that lay fettered and bound by the Reconstruction +Acts, and was unable to do anything for itself until after 1876--the +date of the Tilden-Hayes election. + +The prevailing characteristic of this period is the increasing +influence of Europe upon the two countries. Alexander Second’s action +in liberating the serfs had thrown the gates open to all the ideas of +European liberalism. The opening up of the western plains and the vast +region between the Rockies and the Pacific with its wealth in minerals, +as well as its cattle-raising possibilities, opened the gates no less +to the countless hosts of European settlers. The Irish had already been +coming since the terrible famine years of 1845-7, and the Germans too +had come over ever since the forties. By the outbreak of the Civil War +the original native-born population had begun to be outnumbered by the +hosts of immigrants that passed steadily through the Narrows. After +1870, with the Prussian monarchy in complete control over Germany, the +House of Savoy in control of Italy, and England less disposed than +ever to give the Irish Home Rule, the swarms of immigrants increased, +fed by thousands whose ancestors had fought and died in the cause of +Republicanism in some part or the other of Europe, and by millions who +were attracted across the Atlantic simply by the steamer-agent’s tales +of Western prosperity. The Italians, notably, soon became as prominent +as the Irish and the Germans; and to all these races were added +Scandinavians, Czechs, Hungarians, Lithuanians, Poles from the eastern +frontiers of Europe, and Jews from every part of the world. The three +states of the remote northwest, Washington, Oregon, and Idaho increased +their population from 282,000 in 1880 to 763,000 in 1890 and to two +millions in 1910; while California which contained only five hundred +thousand people when the first transcontinental railway was finished +in 1869, added more than half the same number to its inhabitants in +the next decade. In twenty years after 1870, the population of Kansas, +Nebraska, and the Dakotas was increased sixfold. The city of Chicago +which had only 350 population in 1833, by 1840 contained over four +thousand, and in 1870 had swollen to the enormous figure of three +hundred thousand! Thus while Russia added to its power by spreading +a homogeneous population over immense tracts of unsettled country +eastward, America obtained a firm grip on its own domain by importing +heterogeneous populations into the vast tract of unsettled country +westward.[7] + +It is impossible, therefore, in the thirty years that followed 1865, +to construct anything resembling a cultural history of either Russia +or America. At least, literature will not serve so completely as an +index to the flow of ideas that took place in this period. The Russian +genius during this period manifested itself best in music; this was +the period of Tschaikowsky, Rimsky-Korsakov, Mussorgsky, Borodin. In +America the genius of the race took up architecture, and it was the +Golden Age of Richard Morris Hunt, of Richardson, Root, McKim, Louis +Sullivan, and of the craftsmen like La Farge and St. Gaudens who worked +with them. In each case, it was a period of eclecticism. In Russia +the German-Italian form of symphony and opera was borrowed, and was +filled with a content that was essentially rooted in folk-emotion; in +America the style of the Beaux-Arts or of Ancient Rome or the Early +Middle Ages was equally borrowed, to be infused with native-born force +and energy. The most original--because the least foreign--elements +in this development had the most difficult task to survive. They had +to learn how to speak their message of purely native inspiration in +a language that, through derivation from European tradition, was +completely alien to them. One might draw a not uninstructive parallel +between Mussorgsky, the most Russian of Russian composers, and the +gifted but unfortunate Louis Sullivan. Each had much to say to their +generation that no one would accept. But this is not the place for such +a comparison, inasmuch as we have from the outset decided to confine +our critical investigation to the limits of a single art, that of +literature. + + +2 + +American literature during the period of the seventies and eighties +was entirely dominated by the figure of Samuel Langhorne Clemens, +known to innumerable admirers as “Mark Twain.” At first sight, his +work is on so much a lower level than that of Hawthorne, Henry James +or Whitman as to be unworthy of consideration in the opinion of the +few culture-saturated critics who mostly arrange and settle the merit +of authors. And it is worth noticing that Clemens carried out his work +without any particular encouragement from such intellectual critics. +Their encouragement only came to him at the close of his life, when he +was already writing sentimental and feebly grotesque satires on life +in general, and vainly setting up as a philosopher with his assault +on Christian Science, and the desolatingly mechanistic view of life +set out in “What is Man?” The fact is, that for the latter part of his +life, Mark Twain, profiting by an immense popularity, wrote nothing but +superior journalism or feeble echoes of his own inimitable early self. +That early self left an immortal residue in only three volumes--“Tom +Sawyer,” “Huckleberry Finn,” and the first twenty chapters of “Life +on the Mississippi.” If we add to this the figure of Colonel Mulberry +Sellers in the book appropriately called “The Gilded Age,” and a few +chapters of “Roughing It,” we obtain all of Mark Twain that posterity +will presumably read and cherish. + +Mark Twain is the perfect type of the backwoodsman in letters. His +early training as a newspaper man gave him sufficient command over +the written word to express himself clearly, and an early roving +life, with its picturesque experience, did the rest. In so far as he +had any philosophy of life at all, it was a doctrine to the effect +that the uncultivated and native present day is worth all the feudal +past, and that homely shrewdness and simplicity is better than +spiritual and intellectual mastery. This doctrine has its affinities +to the glorification of the “average man” preached by Whitman, and +in the later Mark Twain one finds as it were, Whitman simplified and +caricatured:--the Yankee is superior to King Arthur, democracy is +superior to aristocracy, machinery is more than great painting and +music, woman is inevitably a superior _genus_ to man. But no one reads +Mark Twain for his philosophy nowadays, though thousands have read him +for his unsurpassed pictures of frontier types, for his description +of an America that has vanished before the advance of the modern +mechanical civilisation which it brought in its train. The finest +of his works, “Huckleberry Finn,” and “Life on the Mississippi,” +are immense picaresque epics of irresponsible adventure. To find +anything resembling them one has to go back to Europe of the sixteenth +century. They represent a stage of history Europe had long outgrown; +a youth-time in a world which was innocent alike of culture and of +morality. Mark Twain himself said of his finest book that it had +no moral, and that “they who find a plot in it, shall be shot.” In +“Huckleberry Finn” there is no plot but only happenings: a mad, gay, +and cruel _reductio ad absurdum_ of life itself, as lived under +frontier conditions, with the incurable nostalgia for romantic and +picturesque escapades (witness Jim’s release from the lock-up, or the +episode of the false Dauphin and the Duke) leading the story on. + +The proper parallel here is with Nicholas Leskov (or Lyeskov). This +author, practically unknown out of Russia, owed his popularity among +the uncultivated public to the astounding freshness of his rendering +of remote Russian life--the life of priests in tiny villages, of +fishermen and hunters, of tramps and vagabonds. It is only of recent +years that foreign critics have observed that in reading Lyeskov, we +are reading the most Russian of authors. Dostoevsky’s Russia is a +distorted picture, tinged with his own spiritual struggle; Tolstoy’s +is a great epic warped by his own perverse intellect; but Lyeskov is +observer pure and simple. He too, like Clemens, had to suffer from an +early period in which his work was utterly despised by the literary +intelligentsia--who were more highly polished and socialistic, in +a materialistic sense, in their work. He also had a late period in +which he comes nearer and nearer to the sentimental side of Tolstoy, +as Clemens had a period in which he apes Whitman. But the essential +Lyeskov is the unsurpassed portrayer of the Russian frontier, and of +its cruel, care-free, and purposeless life. His masterpiece, “The +Enchanted Wanderer,” recently translated into English, is even in +its translation a work of immense sane humanity and humour. Like +“Huckleberry Finn,” it is a picaresque novel, and like that book it has +neither plot nor moral. It is folk-tale pure and simple, stripped of +all accretions of superstition, symbolism, and magic, and with nothing +but the rounded note of a persistent religious nostalgia (akin to Tom +Sawyer’s nostalgic longings for romance and adventure) to give it +coherence. + +It would be a mistake however to suppose that either Lyeskov or Mark +Twain were anything more than exceptions in the course of their +respective literatures during this period. The whole epoch from 1870 +down to the end of the century is marked by a progressive drifting +apart of the two countries which had so nearly coincided in spirit +in Whitman and Tolstoy, Melville and Dostoevsky. This drifting apart +was marked by an increasing outward standardisation of effort. It +was during this period that the standardised Russian revolutionary, +mouthing all the catchwords of advanced European materialism, began +to appear, to be matched by his contemporary, the standardised +American business man. Each class consumed the sort of literature +that was suited to its palate. In Russia there flourished the peasant +novel of highly socialistic tendencies, the works of Gleb Uspensky, +Pissemsky, Korolenko, and the bitterer and more intellectually upright +Saltykov-Schedrin. In America the type of fiction most in demand dealt +mainly with cultivated, well-to-do people, was generally optimistic in +outlook, but was no less surely an article prepared to satisfy popular +demand. Its best output was in the tales of Howells, Cable, Thomas +Nelson Page, James Lane Allen, Mrs. Wharton. The honest peasant of the +one matches pretty completely the upright capitalist (usually the last +scion of an old southern or New England family) of the other. But the +line of advance, which was to produce the most revolutionary fruit in +the nineties, lay through the short story. + + +3 + +The short story as practised in the Occident throughout the nineteenth +century, is in fact a typically oversophisticated and decadent +art-form. To the mind of the highly cultured but impotently sensitive +reader it presents not the great curve of emotion that the finest +poetry offers, not the “allegory addressed to the intellectual +imagination” of great prose, not even the panoramic viewpoint of outer +action or of spiritual abysses that the novel reveals, but a cool +complete piece of minor architecture, a fragment of life, a detached +statement that has neither past nor future implied in it. The short +stories of the East are largely different. They are popular epics, and +different also in their moral earnestness and immense range in short +compass are the short stories of Balzac, Flaubert, Hawthorne. The +technically perfect modern short story has no moral earnestness, no +message, it merely is an incident revealed so completely as to leave no +loophole for the imagination. It is objective reporting, informed by +a mood; and no one carried the art of short story writing further in +these respects than the American Stephen Crane and the Russian Anton +Tchekhov. + +The comparison between the methods of Crane and Tchekhov has been made +before, but it is one that will bear reiteration. It extends even to +personal and social characteristics. Both were descendants of old petty +bourgeois families, long settled on the soil. Both graduated through +journalism into their art. Tchekhov began by writing quite commonplace +and feeble comic stories, and Crane wasted a great deal of his time on +hackwork. Both were irregular workers, and were men of feeble health. +Indeed the only difference is that Tchekhov, thanks to his life as a +country physician, matured later and gained a greater final mastery +over his material than Crane. + +The aim of both was an entirely impersonal and objective presentation +of life. This has been called realism, but in both Crane’s and +Tchekhov’s case, it came nearer impressionism than realism. Each +was at the mercy of a single mood which is reiterated in their +stories _ad nauseam_. In Tchekhov’s case the mood is deliberately +low-toned, sombre, and neutral--a mood of resignation, of quiescence, +of Buddhistic absorption into Nirvana. In Crane’s case the mood is +one of racketing excitement, fierce and brutal display of energy. +On these two moods each exhausted the resources of their art: Crane +his color vowels, and sudden startling comparisons; Tchekhov his +monotonous deliberately prosaic effect. But in each case, the mood +flows out of an attitude towards life that is the same. To both the +world, and particularly nature, is deliberately hostile, alien to the +human spirit. Before this tragic fact, Tchekhov counselled acceptance, +endurance; Crane on the other hand advocated a furious display of +heroic energy. Thus Crane is most completely the artist when his +frequently violent satiric intention is laid aside, and he can play the +part of the poet of action, as in the superb “Red Badge of Courage,” +which first won him fame, and which is free from his stoical fatalism. +Tchekhov is, on the other hand, at his best in his plays, notably “The +Cherry Orchard,” where he loses sight of his own sentimentalism, and +works with at least some underlying satiric intent. Neither, however, +ever wrote a complete masterpiece, nor were they capable of doing so. +Despite the activities of the Tchekhov cult we must insist that the +American at his best frequently appears the finer artist, as in this +story already mentioned, or in “The Open Boat.” He at least had a +supreme power of visualising a scene, and a trick of individualising +his characters by one outstanding trait or peculiarity which the +Russian lacked, though this is perhaps counterbalanced by Tchekhov’s +more complete mastery over architectural form. + +Both were minor writers, because they were fatalists. To the great +writer life is a fatality, frequently a tragedy, but not a tragedy +preordained. But this sense of being doomed by external fatality, by +the insignificant fact, is the very basis of Tchekhov’s work--and +the same sense haunted Crane in his brief, agitated life. They were +both, it is possible, depressed beyond the normal in their personal +temperaments. But still more certainly, the period in which they lived +was one in which major art was not possible. In America the plutocrats +of the Gilded Age were going down in a blaze of glory. Outrageous and +shameless coarseness and corruption was mingled with hypocritic parade +of lip-service to genteel virtue; European snobbery walked arm in arm +with a pretence of democratic simplicity. In Russia, the dreary record +of reaction under Alexander III was trailing to its unhonoured grave in +the sink of official corruption under Nicholas. Both Crane and Tchekhov +were victims of their times, and both held the art for art’s sake +theory far more sincerely probably than their European contemporaries. +Both with supreme skill showed that even when held sincerely, it but +resulted in the best cases, in something philosophically incomplete; at +the worst, in a personal tic, a mannerism. + + +4 + +The high technical level to which Crane and Tchekhov had brought their +art, combined with their avoidance of philosophic content, were both +symptoms of the gulf down which the American and the Russian spirit +had descended since the high-water mark in the sixties. Multitudes +of men now knew that something was wrong; but few could suggest a +remedy. Two men, however, by their personal effort, attempted at least +to stay or fix the retrograde movement of the spirit by attempting +the _Weltanschauung_ of a formal philosophy. These men were Vladimir +Soloviev and William James. + +Before their coming, neither country had known anything resembling +a formal philosophy. Emerson, it is true, had raised himself to the +dignity of being ranked as one; but Emerson was in truth at bottom +partly a mystic poet, partly a shrewd detached commentator on events. +His best work bears as little relation to philosophy definitely so +called, as the more pessimistically colored--but not less philosophical +in content--poetry of Tyutchev bears to the German transcendentalism +of his time. In any case, James did not derive his philosophy from +Emerson, but from an attitude much more matter-of-fact. He obtained it +from the New England practical spirit, the “desire to get on in life,” +the everyday common sense that was, when he wrote, proving so morally +inadequate to deal with the ever-increasing problems of capitalism and +industrialism. In his insistence on practicality, on the “truth that +works,” on “the cash-value of thought,” William James was nearer to the +needs and demands of the average man as posited by Whitman; and much +of his democratic outlook, his homely honesty of phrase was in fact due +to Whitman. Similarly Soloviev drew his own preoccupation with moral +problems, not from any preceding thinker, but direct from the piercing +analysis of Dostoevsky. + +Both James and Soloviev were educated and spent much of their lives +abroad. The substance of their thought was derived in part from +European, in part from American sources. The aim in each case was +to reconcile two divergent streams of thought, to bring them into +harmony. James after an early career in which he had tried to be an +artist, engineer and physician in turn, turned to psychology. But +his real interest lay outside the bounds of psychology--at that time +dominated by the methods of the purely psycho-physical school. His +early upbringing as a Swedenborgian, as well as a highly sensitive +temperament, drew him to the investigation of religious phenomena, and +all his life he strove to reconcile the higher ranges of mysticism, +ecstasy, union with God, heroic self-sacrifice, with the plain +common-sense of the average American type. Thus he was led to attempt +to find a common ground between “radical empiricism”--the search for +the usable truth, the trial-and-error, rule-of-thumb, method of the +pragmatist--and the utterly unpractical absolute standpoint of the +visionary. In order to do so, he had to attack the point of view of +the earlier idealists of the Kant and Hegel type, men who had inherited +something of the old methods of scholasticism. He had to treat human +life and aspiration not as an end, but an instrument; and to regard the +universe not as a finished article, but as a pluralistic chaos. That he +still strove to redeem that chaos consequently became merely a personal +gesture, and not at all a question of final significance. In this, too, +he resembles his spiritual progenitor, Walt Whitman. + +Vladimir Soloviev was trained as a historian. He absorbed the +historical sense from his father who had written a history of Russia, +and his early work was devoted to Church History. In examining the +history of Christianity he was struck by the fact that the Eastern and +Western Churches had separated, and that neither was in agreement with +Protestantism. This schism seemed to him to show that Christianity had +somehow failed to fulfil the aim of its Founder, and he set himself +the task of preaching the necessity of an undivided Church. This was +the substance of his book “Russia and the Universal Church” which with +its definitely Romanising tone was forbidden by the Russian censorship +and had to appear first in a French translation. But even the Roman +Church could not hold him for long. Christianity itself was worthless +as a revelation of God’s purpose to man, except where based on a +universal moral law, the “natural religion” of the eighteenth-century +deists. To find this moral law seemed to him the aim of science; to +invest it with all the grandeur of a revelation from on high was the +purpose of religion. Thus Soloviev was led to try and reconcile the +evolutionary theory of the West with the Eastern Orthodox tradition. In +so doing he was forced to oppose the theories of the Schopenhauer and +Tolstoy school which would strip religion of all its magic and mystic +significance, and reduce life to passive non-resistance; a tendency +which as he pointed out, was Buddhist, not Christian. + +Moreover there remained for Soloviev the outstanding question which +was, “If there is a universal moral law and if the Church itself can +teach that law better than the Tolstoyan rationalist, why is there so +much evil in the world, and what is the way to get rid of this evil?” +The answer was that the evil was permitted by God, and that the only +way to get rid of it was through ascetism, mortification of the flesh. +There can be no doubt that Soloviev through the adoption of ascetic +practices, deliberately shortened his own life. He was led therefore +more and more to a position in which the whole history of the world +appears as simply a gigantic conflict between Good and Evil. This +position is not Christian; it is in reality, Manichean. There is not +one God, but two; God and Satan divide mankind between themselves, +until the end of the world. Thus Soloviev ultimately found his problem +unsolvable, and lapsed into a pluralism more logical and definite, and +far more honest and despairing than the optimistic pluralism of James. + +It seems a great tragedy that the American in the end gave his +adherence to the philosophy of Bergson, with its aimless yielding to +the endless flux, and its refusal of all stability to the intellect; +while the Russian in his turn, preoccupied with the problem of evil, +saw in the end Tolstoy as a precursor of Antichrist and wrote the +half-insane rhapsody of the end of history which fills the last +pages of his “Three Conversations.” But in reality this tragedy was +inevitable in both cases. The endless flux of Bergsonism bolstered +James in the last of his illusions, the illusion that all good +Americans are born and die with, the illusion that in the race of +modern progress, America is ahead of the world and the world will be +saved through her; while Soloviev’s ultimate denial of moral progress, +apart from the established Orthodox faith, saved the last of his +illusions, the typically Russian illusion that Russia by remaining +backward and resisting the West, will yet save the world. Each of +these men is a standing proof that outside the frontiers of Europe, +impersonal thought, thought that is detached from daily circumstances +is utterly impossible. Each is a vivid, embittered, and intensely +honest and typical commentary on the hollowness and pretentiousness of +European philosophy, when applied to conditions of life that remain +outside the orbit of purely European interests. + + +5 + +With the onset of the twentieth century, we witness America and +Russia taking up the same weapons in their rearguard battle with +cosmopolitanism and Europeanism. The weapon in each case is that of +realism. Thus in each country a school of writers sprung up to whom +literature was largely a protest against unequal social conditions, +injustices in the body politic, the yawning cleft between the rich +and the poor, and the moral decay consequent upon the general +nineteenth-century “_laissez-faire_” attitude. It is profitable to +compare the school which is represented by Gorky, Kuprin, Bunin, in +Russia with the group whose leading members in America were Edith +Wharton, Upton Sinclair, Frank Norris, Robert Herrick. But we cannot +really distinguish these writers on the basis of literary merit. They +gave us naturalistic documents rather than artistic interpretations. +Their work was interesting as protest mainly: the _Weltanschauung_ +of these writers, if they possessed one, was pure naturalism, and as +naturalists pure and simple they produced documents but not art. Some +exception might be made for Gorky and Mrs. Wharton’s “Ethan Frome,” but +except for the fact that the Americans chose their favourite heroes +from business men enmeshed in their own toils, and the Russians from +tramps and outlaws, there is but little otherwise to choose between +them. + +It is more instructive to note the damage which the theories of this +group did to highly talented individual artists, like Leonid Andreiev +and Jack London. Both might, under happier auspices, have been poets +and it is worth noting that whenever either dealt with the material +most known to them, the life of little insignificant out-of-the-way +villages in the case of Andreiev (“The Governor,” or “In the Fog”) or +the life of the untamed frontier in the case of London (“The Call of +the Wild,” “Burning Daylight”), each wrote something that might be +called a minor classic. But Andreiev’s pretentious and melodramatic +insistence on the “madness and horror,” the void of life, together +with his heavy sentimentalism (derived from doses of Schopenhauer and +Tolstoy) is as meaningless to us as was London’s confused minglings +of Nietzschean master-morality with crude Socialistic strivings. +London’s “Sea Wolf” is, as a character, as much a bit of pasteboard +as Andreiev’s “Lazarus.” Both London and his Russian contemporary, +were supremely honest men, who rejected with contempt the hypocritical +lip-service to theory paid by the social reformers of their days; both +preferred to be immoralists rather than sentimentalists, and it is for +this that we must respect them, rather than for any good work. For it +is obvious that both had their heads turned by early successes, and +were victims of their own love of melodramatic excess. That two such +men should have lacked moral stability sufficient to keep them from +drinking themselves to death, shows how far the social order in America +and Russia of their time was on the way to the abyss. + +After their day the drive to naturalism continued, but on a lower +level, having largely thrown overboard the general flavour of moral +teaching that still persisted in the work of the earlier naturalists. +The figure of the “business superman” appeared in America as the +figure of the “sexual superman” appeared in Russia. Theodore Dreiser +became responsible for the one, and Mikhail Artzybashev for the +other. Whether there is really very much to choose between them as +art-products is a question that time must settle. It is more important +to note that this phase did not in any case last long. Between the +year 1900 and the outbreak of the great war there rose up in both +countries a revolt against the “social document,” and the naturalistic +attitude towards life. This revolt took the form mainly of a more +symbolical treatment of facts, and it expressed itself not in prose +but in poetry. Thus Robinson, Frost, Lindsay, Sandburg, Miss Lowell, +Conrad Aiken and Robinson Jeffers had their counterparts in time and +aim in Balmont, Bryusov, Blok, Bely, Viacheslav Ivanov and Pasternak. +The value of their work becomes more doubtful, as the younger, more +savagely objective, post-war generation takes the field to-day. What +is important to observe is that while cosmopolitan Naturalism held +the field in 1900, by 1915 the situation was reversed and a new and +more native symbolism, combined with a groping mysticism, derived from +very primitive sources, and strongly dashed with sexual imagery, took +its place. This even affected the prose writers such as Sologub and +Sherwood Anderson. + +This extraordinary reversal of literary taste, which took place in the +limits of one half a generation, is a tragic indication of the fact +that the mentality of Russia and America had already grown unstable. +Instead of the long quarrel between upholders of mystic orthodoxy and +advanced materialists, between Slavophils and Westernizers, literary +conservators and outlaws, being settled, it had grown more acute until +the whole structure of society was rent by it from top to bottom. In +the early twentieth century both Russia and America had to choose to +break again with their past, to become something essentially different, +as they had chosen in 1688, between 1773 and 1790, and in 1860. To show +what the break was, and its results, it is necessary to turn back to +the course of our interrupted historical survey. + + + + +BOOK IV + + + _“The union of Russian revolutionary inspiration with the American + practical spirit; this is the essence of practical Leninism.”_ + + JOSEPH STALIN. + + _“Machinery, the modern Messiah.”_ + + HENRY FORD. + + + + +Chapter XIV + + +The history of the nineteenth century is the history of the decline and +fall of Europe. The logical madness of Napoleon’s attempt to transform +by the power of the sword and the brilliance of his individual genius, +a group of mutually jealous and innately suspicious nationalities, +differing in language, religion and local tradition, into a single +unified power, failed as soon as Napoleon became old enough to lose +grip on his peculiar gifts. In this defeat both America and Russia, +as we have seen, had their share. Russia exhausted Napoleon’s armies, +as England--the true parent of America, and of America’s achieved +Teutonic-Celtic compromise between apparent political liberty and +actual spiritual conformity--exhausted his ideas. During this very +period England and America drew together again, and again came into +closest spiritual contact, despite the prolonged agonies of the +Revolution, the memory of which smouldered less in the hearts of its +leaders, such as Washington and Jefferson, than in the depths of the +raw new settlements on the Indian frontier. Indeed, had it not been +for another characteristic piece of blundering diplomacy on the part of +England, enshrined in what is known as Jay’s Treaty, the two countries +which had opposed each other so long and desperately, might have +come into firm alliance. The prevailing sentiment in England, after +all her wars, successful and unsuccessful, has usually been to shake +hands with her late foe; but this refusal on the part of the people +to bear a grudge is not always shared by the brilliant diplomats and +the aristocratically educated politicians of that paradoxical island. +What is won by the simple courage of her yeomen, England throws away by +the clever stupidity and superiority of her politicians, who are for +the most part far too cynically sophisticated to place any reliance on +human nature. This was again the case after the Napoleonic struggle: +America and England had to remain politically isolated--though in +fact, all their interests were shared in common--for the simple reason +that the Englishman could only envisage empire in terms of trading +posts separated by oceans, while the American saw his empire as new +settlements spreading ever westward across unpopulated land-wastes. + +On the other and eastern frontier of Europe, where the steppes of the +Ukraine unchangeably roll up to the gates of Moscow, the armies of +Napoleon had but recently passed, strewing with the evidences of the +most disastrous defeat in history the snow-covered plains. The outcome +of Napoleon’s titanic failure was soon to be apparent here not less +in the spiritual than in the military sphere. Russia moved again, and +still more sharply, away from Europe, as America had but recently and +once again moved away from England. Czar Alexander I, who might now +pride himself on the fact that his climate, if not his armies, had +defeated Napoleon, was not in the least disposed to undervalue the +historical importance of the appearance of that personage. To England, +whether the England was that of the yokel or the poet, of Hodge or +of Byron and Shelley, Napoleon was merely a temporary and absurd +tyrant--a Corsican ogre feasting on the sufferings of slaves groaning +beneath his whip-lash; one who had betrayed the spirit of liberty for +a personal whim. To Alexander I and the whole Russian people, Napoleon +was the French Revolution itself, _in propria persona_, the Promethean +fire-bringer of liberty, the logical incarnation of a spirit opposed +to historical continuity. The fact that he wore a military uniform +and called himself Emperor, as did the Czar, did not matter. What +mattered was that one of common birth, owning no power of descent +save that conferred on him by his own ability, the representative +of the dispossessed, the opponent of religion, and the overthrower +everywhere of monarchy, should dare to measure swords with the +consecrated Czar himself, whose will was sacred. This was sufficient +to identify Napoleon as Antichrist in the eyes of Alexander and his +meanest subjects alike. And the subsequent history shows that the Czar +was prepared, by all the traditions of his breed and office, to act +upon this hint up to the limit. In order to maintain his power intact, +he had to see to it that Europe begot no more Napoleons. His one idea +for the regeneration of the world was the establishment of a Holy +Alliance, of absolute monarchs with the aim of upholding everywhere +the sacrosanct traditions of religion and monarchy, and everywhere +keeping down the incoherent but vital drive to liberty that Napoleon +had striven to transform into a weapon of self-aggrandisement. Great +was Alexander’s disillusionment when he discovered the chief opponent +to this project was to be England itself, which had but recently fought +Napoleon to the death; still greater was his despair when he learned +through the formation of the Decembrist conspiracy, that his own +intelligentsia would not follow him. With dramatic suddenness the vain, +obstinate, fickle and shiftily brilliant creature who had saved Europe +from republicanism, died; or, according to Russian legend, did not die, +but walked out upon the road as a pilgrim under an assumed name, in +expiation of the crime of parricide by which he had come to the throne. +In any case, he left Russia to a more ruthless successor, determined +alike to uphold his personal prestige and totally undisposed to play +with the dangerously liberal notions of Europe. + +Here we must again remind the reader that it is not the primary purpose +of this study to provide a detailed and objective history of either +Europe, America, or Russia as they manifested themselves throughout +the nineteenth century. Rather our aim is to pierce everywhere through +this tangled surface of objective facts to the more permanent realm of +subjective results. The story of the nineteenth century in Europe is, +as far as the European peoples are concerned, the story of the final +emergence of an intense and peculiarly aggravated form of bourgeois +nationalism. The French Revolution, Napoleon, and the industrial +revolution, as political factors, alike conspired to intensify and make +acute this mob-drift; romanticism and realism alike, in the field of +the arts, fanned its fires. The nineteenth century proved that Europe +no longer existed as a great political and spiritual possibility. +In its place were only a group of mutually jealous and competitive +units, whose local quarrels, to be healed only by exhaustion, would +recur again and again. In compensation, the nineteenth century, if +it could not produce a rebirth of Mediæval Europe, gave us for the +first time since the Middle Ages, Europeans. Through Goethe and +Heine, Stendhal and Flaubert, Ibsen and Nietzsche, Havelock Ellis and +Verhaeren, Unamuno and Ferrero the line of the great Europeans has +gone on, embracing all the European nations in the persons of certain +representatives, in a mingled blend of love of country combined with +love of mankind, cultivation of local traditions fused with total +abhorrence of war. Perhaps the noblest task that America and Russia +have accomplished in the world, has been that they have sometimes, +albeit unconsciously, aided and abetted in the production of true +Europeans. For without such, Europe at the present day would be what +she has been for a century past, a desert. + + +2 + +The significance of the nineteenth century to America is that it +precipitated and made acute the struggle between the commercial and +industrial North, the agrarian and conservative South, and the vast +mass of raw pioneers who, in the Middle West, actually held the balance +of power. The North, in the outcome easily won, less on account of its +numbers, and certainly not because of any intellectual brilliance, but +because of the plain fact that the South and the Middle West could +not even agree among themselves as regards essentials. The New England +minority, men like the Transcendentalists, Fourierites, Abolitionists, +regarded the perfect form of civilisation as a collection of industrial +bourgeois city-states, strongly practical in aim, egalitarian in +essence, dependent on absolute liberty of the citizen. To achieve this +aim it was necessary for them to agitate for the abolition of negro +slavery, which had existed in the South since the Colonial Period. +The Southern minority, on the other hand, envisaged the perfect state +as a collection of loosely-combined agrarian communities, maintained +precisely by the development of slavery as an institution, and governed +by an élite of aristocrats, whose activities, released from manual +toil, could flow into intellectual channels. The balance of power +between these two tendencies, which were incompatible from the outset, +lay in the hands of the frontier squatter class of the Middle West and +Far West. Their only concern was, which side could provide them most +quickly with manufactured articles in return for their raw products. +Garrison meant as little, spiritually, to them as Calhoun. America was +their oyster, and all they cared for was the eating; in other words, +they measured everything precisely by its value in dollars and cents to +themselves. Since they were mostly poor men, dependent on their labor, +and not economically tied to any particular section of the country +(the whole history of the American frontier is a history of continual +migration) they looked askance at slavery, which was decidedly the +sort of game only a settled, rich man could play. Since New England +idealism meant rather devotion to culture than to goods and chattels, +they were equally indifferent to the most radical ideas of the New +England reformers. They preferred to steer a middle course, and neither +to accept slavery nor transcendentalism, realising that they had a +continent to develop and their fortunes to make, and that the balance +of power lay in their hands. From their emergence on the American stage +in the person of President Andrew Jackson in 1829, we may date the +typical shibboleths of “union” being held more precious than liberty, +the constitution as impervious to logic, cheap money and big business +as more important factors in life than either leisure or high thinking. + +The situation in Russia differed in form, and in form only. In +essentials it was precisely the same. Once again we have a majority +of unintelligent peasants, a tiny minority of intelligent radicals, +and between them the theoretically unlimited power of the Czar. The +difficulty with the radicals was that they could not even agree among +themselves. Some were absorbed by the materialistic socialism of the +West, which was to be elevated to the rank of a dogma by the work of +Karl Marx in this very epoch; still others were non-resistant idealists +and anarchists; still a third group were mystic reactionaries, +strongly tinged with the Oriental communism that lies at the heart +of Christianity viewed in its most primitive aspect. The Czar was +quite frequently ready to listen to them; in fact, the sole redeeming +traits in the character of Nicholas I, who was Alexander’s successor, +were his befriending of radical Russian authors (including Pushkin +and Griboedev), his personal courage, and his determination to make +decisions for himself. But the balance of the Czar’s power lay with +the immense mass of uneducated, coarse and dirty peasantry; so long +as their superstitions were not meddled with, so long as Russia could +wage successful wars abroad, thus keeping up the price of foodstuffs, +so long as the authority of the landowners and the burden of taxes lay +not too heavy on their shoulders, all would be well. Nicholas’ system +of maintaining, as far as possible, the internal _status quo_ while +outwardly posing as the champion of Christianity and the upholder of +the oppressed Slav race (which at this time was striving to get free +from the yoke of Turkey) broke down badly in the ill-success of the +Crimean War. The system of maintaining power by pressing upon Europe, +and doing nothing within, could not go on. Czardom itself could +not survive, so long as serfdom persisted as an institution. Under +Nicholas’ successor, Alexander II, serfdom was abolished by a stroke +of the pen, and thenceforward all Russians were theoretically free. To +reach the same result, at the same moment, America had to go through +the agony of four years’ civil war. + +The outcome of this momentous decision was the same in both cases. +In America, the Southern aristocracy was swept away, but with it +went the last remnant of New England idealism. The “go-getter” type +of American definitely appeared, and has dominated the scene ever +since, despite every effort to uproot him. The seventies became for +America the dawn of the “gilded age”; an orgy of land speculation, of +feverish devil-may-care industrialism, of stock exchange gambling and +political corruption swept the country. The South could not protest, +being enslaved by the corrupt reconstruction government; the protest +of the surviving New England idealists went unheeded. Culture was only +important in so far as it represented an acquisitive value and the aim +of all Americans became to acquire the essential wealth that could +enable them to purchase culture, and so show themselves superior to +their neighbours. + +Meantime the country was filling up with impoverished but ambitious +European immigrants, from Ireland, Germany, Scandinavia, Italy, the +Balkans, who were ready to barter their share in European traditions +for a hand in the melting-pot, which was to transform them all from +disillusioned idealists into one hundred per cent wage-slaves. The +nineteenth century in America thus proved a tragic triumph of the +“divine average” which Whitman had so mistakenly hymned. It left +America at the close of the nineties industrial in essence, ruthlessly +efficient, contemptuous of Europe, and essentially vulgar. Out of the +strivings of Virginia aristocrats and New England radicals had emerged +a land of bumptious barbarians. The last heirs of the old intellectual +tradition, men like Henry James, Whistler, Stephen Crane, even Mark +Twain, began coming to Europe and staying there, in voluntary exile. + +The outcome in Russia was equally disastrous to the spiritual health +of the nation at large. The result of the alliance between Czar and +mujik was but to strengthen the hostility to all ideas, especially +to European ideas, and to drive the minority of the intelligentsia +still further along the path that led to desperate nihilism. After a +brief interlude of liberalism under Alexander II, Russia again took +the path of repression, and the reign of his successors, Alexander III +and Nicholas II, are noteworthy only for the complete suppression +of all thought, the relentless persecution of every form of protest +against the established trinity of orthodoxy, autocracy and Don Cossack +brutality. Even Dostoevsky, who regarded himself as the special +prophet of the old dispensation, was obliged in his famous Pushkin +address, delivered at the close of his life, to utter a protest against +the prevailing dirt, corruption, inefficiency and criminality, and +to uphold the work of the revolutionaries, by speaking of Russia’s +“pan-human mission,” and the ideals of the “Russian wanderer.” For the +rest, persecuted, outlawed, butchered and oppressed, Russian thought +scarcely dared lift up its head. Nicholas II succeeded, and nothing was +changed. The end of the century found Russia sinking into a quagmire +of corruption; and literature, which had maintained its protest since +Pushkin, began to give up the struggle by taking on the colours of +a defeated pessimism--the sensational pessimism of Andreiev, the +neutral pessimism of Tchekhov, the immoralist Nietzschean pessimism +of Artzybashev. The one outlet left to the Russian spirit was an +illimitable despair. + +The nineteenth century in America concluded with a great economic +crisis followed by a foreign war, the first war in which America had +been engaged since the Civil War had closed thirty years before. The +nineteenth century in Russia closed also, a few years later, with a +foreign war in the Far East, which coincided with an economic and +political crisis at home. These two events were the logical outcome +of the previous development we have already traced, and which had +apparently fully settled the _status quo_ in both countries, without +really settling anything. In both countries the unsolved questions +of the relation between industrialism and agrarianism, monopoly +and free ownership, foreign expansion and home reform, came almost +simultaneously to a head. In 1898, following on the panic and great +strike of 1893-4, America went to war with Spain; in 1904 the Russian +government, which had steadily pursued, since the Crimean War, an +ambitious advance through Siberia and Manchuria to the point where it +was prepared, through possession of the spearhead of Port Arthur, to +challenge Europe’s growing interest in China and Korea, found itself +surprisingly halted by the outbreak of a struggle with Japan. + + +3 + +It is necessary here to go back a little, and to ask the question +why these two movements which ushered in the twentieth century, did +not coincide in date in both countries, inasmuch as they derived +ultimately from the same tragic division of opinion between rulers and +ruled, intelligentsia and peasants, though the intelligentsia in the +one case were a handful of thinking radicals striving to break down the +strangle-hold of the big business bosses and protectionist monopolies, +and in the other an even more desperate handful of writers and +publicists vainly protesting against the unholy alliance of Czardom, +corrupt civil service, and secret police. + +The answer to this question is to be found in the unequal incidence of +the industrial era in point of time upon both countries. America had +become industrial, except for the South, as early as 1840. After 1865 +industrialism was everywhere paramount, and its sway was undisputed. +But in Russia industrialism did not really begin until after 1892, when +Sergius Witte became Minister of Finance and of Communications. As a +direct result, the Transsiberian railway was built, thus giving Russia +at last full opportunity for expansion in the only direction in which +expansion was left open to her, namely, the Far East. Russia thereby +followed the path of full industrialism, a path which had been open +to the United States ever since the first transcontinental railway, +the Union Pacific, had been opened in 1877. It is interesting to note +that, once again, what was in the latter case the result of the steady +influence of millions of new settlers upon a Federal government +impotent to direct or interfere (for the Union Pacific was begun during +the upheaval of the Civil War) became in the latter, the action of only +one man, backed by the authority of the Czar. + +In this delay of about a generation may be found the reason why Russia +postponed the internal crisis that in her case, as in America’s, was +to mark the slow transition from spiritual adolescence to dangerous +maturity. Industrialism, in both cases, provided the lever that set +in motion, once for all, the vast and ponderous machine that had been +created. In the one case, it solidified, in the other it disrupted; +and we need not invoke either Slav stupidity or Yankee smartness to +explain the psychological causes of the crisis of 1904-5 or that of +1893-1898. In essence the two movements were similar, it was only +in their results--as is practically always the case in American and +Russian social life--that they could be thought of apart. In America +the régime of free competition in industry supported by protective +tariffs, and outward lip service to the Federal constitution as the +sole God-given means of developing and fulfilling the destinies of +the United States, had steadily built up the cities at the expense of +the agrarian interest, until a succession of bad crops unconsciously +restored the balance. The result was, first, trade depression; then +reduction of wages; then a great strike at Chicago, which had, as +the second American city, only just finished flamboyantly hailing the +fourth centenary of Columbus’ discovery by means of a World’s Fair; +lastly, blundering interference by the Federal Government which helped +nobody and a smouldering agitation, freshly dividing the country into +sections, arousing the discontented farmers for cheap money, and the +discontented industrialists for an overseas empire, to absorb their +surplus products. The result was that the inevitable demand for +expansion of America beyond the ocean borders found its first moral +pretext in the insurrection of 1895 in Cuba. + +Turn from this to the situation in Russia, where to balance the +American trinity of industrialist, agrarian and sentimental radical, +we have the three already familiar elements of Czar, mujik, and +intelligentsia nobility. Since 1861 the mujik had been nominally +free, and their village zemstvos, or local assemblies, were growing +inevitably in power and influence. The Czar owed the continuance of +his power entirely to the support of this peasant class. But because +of their continued increase in numbers, it was impossible to keep them +contented without finding for them continually new lands whereon to +settle; and such lands could only be opened in Siberia, Manchuria, +Turkestan, the Far East. By building the Siberian railway and by +concentrating on industrial development, Witte simply speeded up the +outcome of this logical process. Thereby he split up the radical +intelligentsia into three groups; those who, working through the +zemstvos and the landed classes, were demanding free speech and a +parliament; those who, working through the industrialists, were all for +a physical force revolution and Marxian socialism to follow; and those +who, working through the newly created and prospering middle classes, +were all for protecting their rights by a conservative parliament on +the English model. By deliberately driving Russia to take the path of +industrialism and eastward expansion, in order to maintain the alliance +between Czar and peasant, Witte proved himself not the least important +servant of the Crown; but his service led directly to two results. It +created an urban proletariat, of the utmost future danger as a hotbed +of political radicalism, and inevitably forced on the Japanese-Russian +War. + +In either case, the policy followed was an attempt to resolve by +an arbitrary act certain difficulties that could only be attacked +from within. The average Middle-Western farmer took no interest in +an economic protectorate over the Caribbean; the average Russian +provincial noble had no quarrel with Japan. In the one case, it was +only through the support of the great Eastern industrialists that the +Union could be preserved in permanent form; in the other the central +government was obliged to absorb a certain proportion of surplus +peasant population, every year, either by creating an industrial class, +or by promoting emigration to Siberia, in order to avoid civil war. +The result of the movement of 1893-1898 was to make the industrial +capitalist class the dictators of American policy, domestic and +foreign; that of the parallel movement of 1893-1904 was to create a new +industrial class, only awaiting a leader and an opportunity to take +over the reins of government from the weak-kneed Czar and his advisers. +That the one movement accomplished its ends largely by peaceable +economic penetration, and that the other movement grew on account of +its arbitrary and violent character matters little. Each violently +wrenched a whole country out of its national orbit of development, and +set it upon a path that inevitably brought it into conflict with other +countries. In America’s case the conflict was to be with Europe, in +Russia’s with Japan. + +Thus both countries, for the space of about thirty years, had +simultaneously explored the path of pacific expansion, and in both +cases that means failed. That is the lesson we must keep in mind as +once more we find America and Russia confronting each other across +the space of Europe at the close of the nineteenth century. Since 1865 +America’s entire policy had been maintenance of freedom of contract, +protection of home markets, industrial expansion. The policy fell of +its own weight because a glut of manufactured articles and the growing +inability of the farmers to wring heavier crops from the soil, created +a financial crisis of the type that recurs throughout American history. +Since the disastrous Crimean War, and still more since the Treaty of +Berlin in 1878 had robbed Russia of the fruits of her last victory over +the Turks, the policy of the Czar and his advisers had been avoidance +of all foreign ideas and radical notions combined with expansion of +foreign markets and improvement of domestic communications in order to +link up the most outlying parts of the Empire. This policy, too, fell +of its own weight and came to nothing because in its zeal to foster +commerce and industry it created an industrial urban class determined +to take no orders even from the Czar, and because in its hurried race +eastward, it finally dashed the trace-pole of the Russian troika +against the immovable foundation stones of the Great Wall of China. + + + + +Chapter XV + + +At the close of the nineteenth century, the American people were +opportunistic, optimistic, and prosperous; the Russian people were +gradually sinking back from the status of a warlike, daring and +adventurous nation into a state of sluggishly Oriental passivity +and fatalism. In the one case, the power and resources of the West, +exploited by the great Eastern financiers, had overwhelmed the last +remnants of dying New England idealism, and had dragged the South, +incapable of resistance, after it. In the other, the arbitrary will +of the central government, backed by an army of corrupt bureaucrats, +and by another army of illiterate peasants wearing the Czar’s uniform, +had slowly radiated from Moscow through the veins of an immense +country until it reached the far distant Pacific at Vladivostok and +Port Arthur. Had Washington or Catherine the Great been permitted to +revisit the scene of their labours again at the close of the century, +they might well have been amazed at the work of their descendants. +Both would have been astounded at the immense expansion of what had +been originally a very simple idea. Washington in particular would +have been hard put to discover his small, and almost poverty-stricken +country, almost all English-speaking, with its scant three millions +of inhabitants, and frontiers scarcely one hundred miles removed from +the seaboard, in the vast congeries of races, ninety millions strong, +industrialised up to the hilt and flaunting their wealth, that swarmed +over America. But Catherine, too, though she would still have found +herself at home among the superstitious mujiks, would have missed +the intellectual brilliance of her court and have thought the state +bureaucracy overcrowded. Though she might have admired Witte and his +special creation of the Transsiberian railway, she would have shrunk +back in horror from Tolstoy as from a monstrosity. And what Catherine +would have thought of the special qualities of will and character +manifested by her descendant, Nicholas II, had best perhaps be left to +the imagination. In short, though nothing apparently had been changed, +everything in reality was different. America was waxing, and Russia was +waning rapidly, like two moons revolving in opposite directions. + +The same phenomenon, with the same result, had happened long ago in +the ancient world. We have referred before to Egypt and Babylonia as +providing an instructive parallel to the two cases of America and +Russia. It is necessary now again to recall them to memory, and to +note that the period of Egypt’s greatest economic supremacy coincided +precisely with the period of the supine Kassite rulers of Babylonia. +That the Kassites were foreigners, is a fact perfectly well known, +but it is also fair to point out that the Czar was in a very special +sense a foreigner in his own realm. Catherine herself was purely +East German; and the habit of marrying petty German princesses had +persisted so long in the Romanov house that Nicholas II was himself +the grandson of a princess of Hesse-Darmstadt and the husband of +another. As in Babylonia, Russia was being bled white to support the +supremacy of a foreign class. Meantime, America, holding for the most +part to the dominant Republican party dynasty which had settled itself +into power on the heels of the Civil War, had swept into its system +of standardised ethics, mass-patriotism and business psychology, race +after race from the old world. The situation was becoming not very +different, after all, from that which confronted the Ancient World +when Amenophis IV, later known as Akhnaton, mounted the throne of +the Pharaohs. And the part that the Hittites had played in the drama +of 1500 B.C. was to be played by Prussia; for this is the period of +Prussia’s ultimate greatness on the world’s stage. + +The drama began in America with the outbreak of the Spanish-American +War. The farmers of the South and West were already in revolt against +the increasing cost of living which high protective tariffs had brought +in their train. They were preparing to sweep the entire country under +the leadership of Bryan. The industrial workers of the East had already +threatened to follow them, in the great strike of 1893. If they had +done so, the country would have split up in three sections, even less +geographically definable than the boundaries of the North and South +had proven at the time of the Civil War. The great industrialists of +the East, and the millionaires of Wall Street with their hands on +the pulse of the country, took fright. The election of 1896 proved +the turning point. The nominee of the industrialist republicans +was William McKinley, an affable, ingratiating, hard-working, but +essentially spineless Ohioan; but the real power, the power of the +campaign funds, lay in Wall Street, which lavishly poured out its +treasure to aid the Republican Party to victory. The result was +that the less-organised forces of Bryan failed; and McKinley became +President. But the industrial outlook was none too rosy. In order to +prevent a glut of manufactured products, and the repetition of such +a crisis of unemployment as had already taken place in 1893-6, it +was necessary not only to maintain domestic protection, but to find +foreign markets. And foreign markets in America’s case meant inevitably +foreign war. The pretext came when the battleship _Maine_ blew up in +Havana harbour. At the price of a war with Spain, a war almost lost +through America’s incapacity for military leadership, yet bound to be a +victory in the end because of her opponent’s even greater helplessness, +America acquired an overseas dominion in the Philippines, and practical +certainty of headship in the Caribbean in the not remote future. + +The results were momentous, socially and psychologically. America had +proven once and for all that she could defeat a European power in the +field. That the power chosen for this experiment was Spain, which +was antiquated in equipment, weak in leadership, and inefficient in +diplomacy, mattered not a jot. The fact that various European countries +had half-heartedly shown the Spanish some sympathy was enough to set +fire to the powder-magazine of American jingoism. A vast subterranean +echo of England’s old Armada victory shook the Anglo-Saxon foundations +of the country, trailed through the yellow press, and infected every +woman and every schoolboy. This was truly the legendary age of +American history, and its chosen hero became Theodore Roosevelt, the +millionaire turned cowboy, the “trust-buster” with the big stick +who defied equally Wall Street and the trade unions, who was ready +apparently to ride and tame together the two wild horses of industry +and agriculture, and to implant in every American breast the triumph +of the average man. Under his leadership America jumped overnight in +the eyes of the world from the status of a gawky, awkward, shambling +frontiersman of the Lincoln type, to that of a big overgrown schoolboy +with a book in one hand and a baseball bat in the other, equally ready +to lecture and to bully the world. One need only be respectful to +the “basis of prosperity” on which all American institutions rested +at home, and ready to pounce upon any European nation that dared to +interfere abroad, in order to be great. + + +2 + +Turn now from this picture to that of Russia during the close of the +twentieth century. The construction of the Transsiberian railway, +and the consequent industrial régime that Witte had fostered, led to +a momentary return of prosperity. His creation of a gold standard +backed by a gold reserve, together with the state monopoly that at +this time was imposed on the manufacture and sale of vodka, happily +combined with Alexander Third’s open policy of neutrality in Europe +and of rapid penetration to the Far East. The outcome was a hectic +period of urban development and factory construction. Meanwhile, the +peasantry, especially in the overcrowded region of the Lower Volga, had +to continue to suffer, despite their emancipation. Their zemstvos, or +local councils, were given no power of legislation; and they were still +paying in taxes for the costs of their own liberation back in 1861, and +were to continue to pay up to 1910. A succession of bad crops on the +Lower Volga in 1891 and 1893 did the rest, and famine drove them into +the factories of the large towns, where they rapidly became transformed +from illiterate and untrained agriculturalists, with all the earth-born +superstitions of their class, to active revolters and plotters against +Church and State, greedily swallowing Marx as their new gospel. + +In the midst of this situation Alexander III died, to be succeeded +by the helplessly fatalistic and spineless Nicholas II. He soon fell +under the spell of the young wife who had been brought from Germany +for him by his father, and who had first appeared before the Russian +people in Alexander’s own funeral procession. This new accession, +in 1894, simply meant that Alexander’s policy would continue to be +followed blindly, but without the determination and efficiency that +the Czar had shown in pursuing it. More and more the peasants were to +be encouraged to emigrate; Siberia soon filled up with a new class of +desperate adventurers, and those who did not take this path crowded +into the factories of Moscow and St. Petersburg, where they were +rapidly converted by the steady preaching of the fanatics of Marxism. +Their motto was “Wait until the hour is ready when we may strike, and +then throw down your tools.” Meanwhile the government proved blind +to this new development, and contented itself with further driving +the intelligentsia underground or into exile, and making half-hearted +attempts to limit the hours of work, and the age at which the people +were to be employed in the new factories. + +The clash came finally in 1904. In that year, Japan, taking fright +at the steady penetration of Russian influence and trade through +Manchuria to Korea, China, and the Pacific, suddenly moved her armies, +without the formality of a declaration of war, against Port Arthur. +The result was to find Russia utterly unprepared. East of Lake Baikal, +where the Transsiberian railway had a gap of one hundred miles which +could be traversed in summer by steamers, but in winter had to be +crossed on sledges, Russia had only eighty thousand field troops, with +twenty-three thousand garrison, and thirty thousand railway frontier +guards. Japan, on the other hand, could throw in one hundred and fifty +thousand line troops at once, and held all the advantages of lines of +communication. Russia was doomed to defeat from the outset; and this +defeat, for the first time in her history, came not from the invading +forces of Europe, but from her own invasion of Asia, which had been +followed up to the point where she came into conflict with the one +Asiatic nation which had westernised itself, and which was determined, +thanks to its own population and trade problem, to keep a firm hold +on the Pacific coast lands. But what made this defeat inevitable was +the lack of enthusiasm that the Russian people themselves displayed +towards the war. Since Nicholas, on his accession, had dismissed the +appeal of the zemstvos for a parliamentary constitution as “senseless +dreams,” the landowners themselves had become hostile; and the new +urban proletariat was indifferent to the demands of any class but its +own, and waiting for its opportunity. + +The outcome was to prove to anyone but the vacillating and incapable +Czar, whose head had been completely turned by the large doses of +flattery administered to him by Emperor Wilhelm II (who for his part +secretly cherished ambitions towards Europe similar to Russia’s Asiatic +dreams) that the continuance of power in the hands of the Romanovs, +which had been the sole means of holding the Russian Empire together +since the days of Peter the Great, would cease, if once deprived of +the support of the united Russian people. Despite the blessings of +the Orthodox Church on the new crusade against the Japanese, despite +desperate attempts to whip up patriotic sentiment, Russia was defeated +not only in Manchuria, but on the home front. The Japanese War +concluded not only with military defeat, but with a firm promise on the +part of the Czar to open a Duma. This was wrung from him by the great +strike of 1905, which paralysed the entire country, and by the passive +but effectual resistance of the agrarian class themselves. The war with +Japan was rapidly wound up by the intervention of Witte, who made the +best bargain he could under the circumstances, in August, 1905; and the +attention of the Russian government henceforward was directed towards +dealing with the desperate situation at home. + +Nicholas might in this crisis have abdicated and passed on the +succession of the throne to someone equipped with more will-power and +sense of the situation than himself, but for the fact that the Czarina +had at last, on the outbreak of the war, presented him with a son. His +one object henceforward was to transmit the patrimony of the Russian +Empire as intact as possible to his heir; and in this aim his wife +completely seconded him. The drift of his policy was to summon the +Duma, make only such concessions as could be wrung from him, and if +the situation proved too dangerous, to reassert his autocracy. It was +a policy of desperation, which needed such a supreme Machiavellian as +Catherine the Great to carry out successfully; and the conditions--not +to speak of the ability involved--under which it was now undertaken +were entirely different. In order to keep an eye on the insistent +smouldering rebellion of the new factory class, Nicholas’ Government +had adopted the policy of setting secret revolutionary agitators to +work in industrial districts, in order that the expected uprising +when it came might be known beforehand. The result had only been to +completely paralyse the country in the strikes of 1905; and once the +safety-valve of the Duma was constructed, it was not likely, despite +the Czar’s secret hopes, to merely blow off in talk. + +There followed ten years of fantastic nightmare for Russia. While in +America, the country grew more and more consolidated in its power and +prosperity, more and more ready for the date when it might emerge into +the leadership of the world, under the successful compromise between +“big business” and free competition discovered by Roosevelt; in Russia +an outworn and scandalously patched together system tended more and +more to break down under its own weight, as Napoleon long ago had +accurately foreseen and predicted. The first Duma was suppressed, only +to give way to one more radical. The elections were then purged so as +to insure a conservative majority, but still the drift to revolution +could only be temporarily stayed. What made matters still worse and +finally transformed the most conservative landowning class into open +opponents of the autocracy, were the scandals concerning the Czar’s +own court and heir. The wretched child for whom Nicholas had staked +everything, proved a congenital invalid, with no hope for cure from +legitimate doctoring. In this resort, the thoughts of the monarch and +of his consort turned to the apparatus of miracle which, they fondly +believed, lay somewhere in the country itself. The result is well +known to the world at large. From the day when the animally cunning +and unholy Rasputin first left the trail of his dirty boots across the +Czar’s carpet, Nicholas himself was doomed. + +The watchword of the twentieth century for America was “uplift”; a +determination to exploit the resources of the country up to the limit, +and to preserve the Puritan outlook on life that had led to such +important results, although the Puritan strain itself was steadily +declining in numbers and ability. Abroad, America was determined to +make her influence felt as at home; and the shadow of the dollar began +to extend itself not only over the American continent, but in the +remote regions of Europe and the Far East. The watchword for Russia +during the same period was suppression of everything that stood in the +way of the continuance of the Romanov dynasty, and suppression of the +underground struggle for power by all other sections. The combined +forces of Church and State would struggle on for a time longer, though +deprived of every vestige of intelligent support. There was nothing to +do but to wait on fate. When Crown and Church fell, they would fall +together. Abroad, Russia had little influence; all she asked for from +her new ally France was not a hand in policy, but capital to enable +her to meet the expenses of the immense military establishment she was +compelled to keep up in order to avert an explosion at home. Though +facing the East, she was drawn into the orbit of European nationalist +diplomacy by her economic needs. In America, on the other hand, no one +need ask Europe for financial aid. But there had to be an increasing +economic penetration of Europe to counterbalance industrial tension at +home. + + +3 + +Meantime, while these tremendous events were preparing, the nations +of the European continent pursued the path that had been left open to +them by Napoleon’s collapse, the path of a final intensification of +separate effort, backed by the combined forces of industrialism and +parliamentarism. It is possible that never to the average individual +had European life appeared on the surface so promising, so rich in +its complexity, as during the first decade of the twentieth century. +Despite the upheavals of 1848, despite the recrudescence of war that +had broken out in the years 1866-1870, the continent that was the +home of man’s ripest and maturest forms of civilisation had made +an astonishing recovery. The old and the new had been skilfully +combined. Except in France, the trappings of royalty persisted side by +side with keen-witted Parliaments, whose members, inflamed by fiery +patriotism and the carefully fostered sense of nationality, vied with +each other in demanding more and more factories and better armaments. +Thanks to the triumphs of science, the ever new discoveries that had +been made in the realm of invention, the spread of electric light, +telephones, railways, sanitation, medical skill, literacy, with the +rapidly approaching advent of the motor car and the aeroplane in +the offing--thanks to all these things, and the possession of the +franchise, the future was held to be a rosy one. England in particular +fêted the culmination of the Victorian age, and her last triumph over +the Boers. France threw wide the doors of a great exhibition in Paris +to celebrate a century of progress. Italy had reawakened as by magic +from her decay, and was becoming a modern nation, without losing her +ancient picturesqueness. In Austria, despite internal difficulties, the +veteran Franz Joseph still firmly held together the various parts of +his ramshackle Empire. Even backward Spain, newly defeated by America, +might aspire to a new Empire in Morocco. As for the Far East, that too +was giving way before the dominating force of the white man; in the +Philippines, where America was proving herself the heir to England’s +colonial ability; in China, where the Boxer rising had been quelled; +in India, which England held firmly; and on the continent of Africa, +parcelled out into colonies, and ruled by a dozen different nations. +Yes, the future was full of hope, a great hope for the white man. + +Such was the picture that Europe presented to the superficial observer +at the close of the century. But underneath, things were very, very +different, as a few lonely Europeans--men like Ibsen and Nietzsche--had +learned to their cost. The aggressive nationalism that had gone on +unchecked throughout the nineteenth century had proven the real enemy +of progress. Every European nation had its own army, its own fleet; +and these immense military establishments were not only expensive, +but dangerous. Peace was outwardly maintained by means of a complex +web of diplomacy and treaties. The Triple Alliance balanced the +Triple Entente; but day by day this web became stretched to finer +tension, nearer to the breaking point. What was still worse was that +a generation of unchecked industrial competition, taking as its tacit +watchword its own interpretation of Darwin’s law of “the struggle +for life and the survival of the fittest,” had created immense city +slums, huge industrial areas of unrelieved hideousness, festering +plague-spots where drink, crime, misery, disease--varied only by +strikes and discontent--stalked open and unabashed. The protests of a +few idealists, a few æstheticians, such as Ruskin and William Morris, +had passed unheeded. Religion itself could do nothing to mend matters, +inasmuch as it was mostly State-religion, paying lip-service to the +established powers. When it condemned, it did so mostly for wrong +reasons, as in the case of Zola, whose only too honest and accurate +social novels proved meat far too strong for ecclesiastical stomachs. + +To the radical minority of impartial and intelligent observers, +whether these called themselves socialists, anarchists, communists, +or simply honest men, something in the cardboard edifice of European +nationalistic prosperity was certain to give way; whether it was +the perpetual military establishments, or the intensive industrial +competition, or the futile and stupid madness of “patriotic” +Parliaments, or the mob-spirit already manifesting itself as latent +in democracy. But though the radicals saw the abyss yawning beneath +their feet, they could not arrest the earth-tremor that was shortly +to precipitate them and their respective nations into it. The régime +of mechanical competition and of intensified nationalist effort had +taken too firm a hold ever to be checked by words, however eloquent +and far-seeing. As many intelligent men realised this fact, a sort +of _fin de siècle_ weariness sprang up through the nineties, spread +itself throughout Europe, and after taking the various forms of +decadentism, symbolism, exoticism, finally immobilised itself in the +cynical lightness of an Anatole France. Meanwhile, the web of diplomacy +was re-spun, re-stretched, half ruptured at a touch and again tied +together. Every year brought new threats of war, balanced by new +projects of peace, until most people dreamed that war might never +come. The sound of a revolver-shot in the sleepy town of Serajevo at +last proved sufficient to shatter the fabric of a century of European +diplomacy. A sort of convulsion passed over the face of the world, and +the next moment, the nations that had maintained the fiction of armed +peace ever since 1870 suddenly found themselves involved in the vast +cataclysm of another European war. + + + + +Chapter XVI + + +Fifteen years since the outbreak, and eleven years since the cessation +of European hostilities have passed away; but the question is not yet +fully settled of responsibility for the war. Fortunately the question +need not here be asked; for it would lead us too far into the maze of +treaties and of safeguarding diplomacy by which the European nations +strove to make innocuous that national sentiment they themselves had so +outwardly fostered. Our concern here is not with moral responsibility, +but with tendency and result. The tendency in Europe, for a century of +European history, had been to prepare for war and to strive to maintain +outwardly the peace by diplomacy. There came a time when the machine +of war, carefully prepared and oiled, went forward simply of itself. +The brakes of diplomacy refused to work any longer. That moment came in +August, 1914. + +The ultimate decision for war no doubt came from the fact that Russia, +having mobilised her armies, in response to Austria’s insulting +ultimatum to Serbia, refused to withdraw the mobilisation order and to +allow Kaiser Wilhelm to make his eleventh-hour appearance in the rôle +of peacemaker. But to say that thereby Russia was solely responsible +for the war, is to utter the most pernicious nonsense. One might as +well say that America--who began and furthered the negotiations in the +person of President Wilson--was solely responsible for the peace, as +embodied in the Treaty of Versailles. From the moment when the Czar +and his advisers decided not to tolerate any further Austro-German +interference with the Slav nationalities of the Balkans--interference +which had already completely alienated Bulgaria and had transformed +Rumania from a friendly people to a sullenly hostile one--from that +moment the issue was already as good as settled. The Russian people +awoke as by magic from the stupor of their long nightmare, and walked +forth in the sunlight of a clear racial policy. Henceforward there +were to be no more mad attempts to penetrate into distant Asia, while +ignoring the plaint of the neighbour lying wounded at their own doors. +The dream of uniting the oppressed western Slavs of Europe into one +great free confederation under the headship of orthodox Moscow--a dream +which had been Russia’s up to Peter the Great’s day, and which had +revived under Nicholas I and Alexander II--needed but the touch of the +Russian ultimatum to Austria to start afresh from the soil. The “third +Rome” was to be no more a lost ideal but an accomplished fact. In the +fervour of a mystical re-conversion to an ideal which had somehow been +lost sight of, all party differences, all scars and injuries were +forgotten, and immense throngs again kneeled before the Czar. Only +the tram operatives of St. Petersburg and Moscow, indifferent to any +feeling but that of class, persisted for a time in a crippling strike, +at the same time the ultimatum went forward to Austria and her ally, +Germany. A small defection, but one pregnant with ominous possibilities +for the future. + +Having mobilised his forces on the frontier, ready to move forward +in case Austria persisted in enforcing the terms of her outrageous +military and political demands upon helpless Serbia, the Czar refused +to countermand the order, despite Kaiser Wilhelm’s belated and hysteric +attempts to extricate himself from a position in which he had already +placed himself. Had Russia done so, what would have been the result? +The infuriated armies of Russia, withdrawn from the frontier, and +doubly tricked by their rulers, from accomplishment of an aim that +seemed to them perfectly just, might have perhaps marched upon Moscow +and deposed the Romanovs. No doubt this consideration was also present +in the minds of the Czar and of his chief advisers. It was necessary +at least to make an armed demonstration of goodwill to the Slav peoples +in general, in order to save their faces. Moreover, there was France +to be considered; France, which had solely stood by Russia during the +dark years since 1905, and which was burning with the hope of revenge +on Germany. So the time-limit of midnight August 1st expired, and the +world blundered into war. + +The fact that Russia, despite her immense awakening of enthusiasm +for the cause of her fellow-Slavs, and despite her determination to +fight on to the bitter end--a determination which she proved over and +over again--was, after all, badly led and shamefully equipped, was no +handicap at the outset. Had the East Prussian campaign which was halted +at Tannenberg, not been fought, the allies could not have stood firm, +and stemmed the German onset at the Marne. This campaign, in the end +disastrous to the Russians, was nevertheless of equal moral effect on +the ultimate result as was America’s intervention three years later. In +the one case as in the other, it was not skill, but the mere weight of +numbers that finally decided the issue. The French troops, badly beaten +in their first attempt to seize upon Alsace-Lorraine, and supported +only by a meagre skeleton force of British, fell back steadily upon +Paris, until suddenly the pressure upon their crumbling front relaxed +and the desperate stand upon the Marne was transformed into an advance +to the Aisne. And this policy had been dictated to the German general +staff by the trail of smoking farmsteads and ravaged towns that the +Russians were making in the Hohenzollern province of East Prussia. The +well-directed thrust of the German armies to get between the desperate +French troops and Paris itself, and to cut off one from the other, +failed because two army corps had to be detached to aid Hindenburg to +trap the advancing Russians at Tannenberg. Thus the true agent of the +so-called “miracle of the Marne” was neither France nor England, but +Russia--that Russia whom her allies abandoned and repudiated three +years later in the time of her bitterest humiliation. + +Despite the appalling loss of eighty thousand effectives at Tannenberg, +the great masses of the Russian people undoubtedly felt that they +could go on waging war indefinitely. Austria on the Carpathian-Polish +frontier proved as easy for them to invade as East Prussia was +impossible. All that they needed to accomplish the ultimate result was +a steady supply of munitions and supplies from the better-equipped +allies. But this feeling was not shared by the more intelligent heads +of affairs in the allied countries. One of the most far-seeing, the +English war secretary, Kitchener, had spoken of three years as being +the probable duration of the contest. It would take that time, he +thought, to stem the German advance through Belgium into France and +to train and equip armies sufficiently strong to coöperate with the +Russians elsewhere, and thus to force Germany to abandon the struggle. +By a miracle which was even greater in its total effect, though less +popularly acclaimed, than the “miracle of the Marne,” England barely +managed to save the Channel Ports through her stand at Ypres, and thus +effectively blockaded Germany--though this miracle was accomplished at +the price of all her fighting effectives. The war became, after the +first winter, a war of attrition with only one outstanding question: +how long would it take the Allies, backed as they were by the immense +wave of enthusiasm that was sweeping England and her colonies, to raise +the enormous forces required to throw back Germany in the West, and to +bring relief in the East to Russia, who was now equally blockaded--her +only effective port being Archangel. For by this time Germany had +persuaded Turkey to enter the war on her side. + +The question was not long in being answered. In the spring of 1915 +England committed herself to an attack upon the Gallipoli peninsula. +Had that attack been pressed home, and Constantinople fallen, the war +would certainly have ended then and there. For Germany could not then +have halted the immense supply of munitions and equipment that England, +confident of her financial resources and Still mistress of the seas, +was now cleverly procuring for herself and her allies through the +factories of outwardly neutral America. But as regards Russia, Germany +was already doing her work pretty thoroughly. Though the supplies were +pouring into Archangel, they were for the most part never allowed +to leave the wharves, or mysteriously disappeared _en route_ to the +Russian armies. For by now a small group of sycophantic courtiers and +corrupt administrators of the Czar’s own inner circle, taking their +tone from Berlin, and possibly also from the imperious and self-willed +Czarina, were asking themselves the question, “What should happen, if, +after all, we won? Would we not have put into the hands of the people +the very weapon whereby to destroy our power?” + +Thus through outward delay and inner treachery, the Allies themselves +threw away their chief opportunity of forcing a decision upon Germany. +The Gallipoli advance, thanks to divided counsels in England and in +France, was never pressed home in time. The Russian armies, which +despite their terrible shortage in munitions, had fought their way +into Galicia in the spring of 1915 and delivered their last effective +threat to Vienna, crumbled away helplessly before the new policy +Germany had conceived of standing like a wall in the West, and sweeping +down all opposition in the East. From the foothills of the Carpathians +and the Hungarian plains to the Pripet marshes that lay two hundred +miles behind Warsaw, the Russian armies retreated, fighting with sticks +instead of rifles, and having back of them not sufficient reserves of +ammunition even to feed their batteries for a day. The outcome was that +the Grand Duke Nicholas, an able hard-bitten soldier, was deposed from +command of the Russian armies, and the Czar, now more than ever swayed +by the evil influences of his consort and Rasputin, took command. +Russia’s doom was sealed. + +At the same time, England, misled by the French into thinking that the +German effectives were wasting away more rapidly than those of the +Allies in the West, withdrew from Gallipoli and launched a disastrous +attack at Loos, which was completely abortive, and served only to sweep +away a great portion of the new armies which Kitchener had summoned +into being. Henceforward, stalemate was practically certain, and by +this stalemate Germany in the end stood ready to profit. For she could +now move towards the East whenever and wherever she pleased. Bulgaria +was brought into the war on Germany’s side to counterbalance Italy’s +defection to the cause of the Allies, in 1915; and from Antwerp to the +Persian Gulf, Kaiser Wilhelm now ruled supreme. Russia had utterly +collapsed in the East, and the iron wall of troops still stood firmly +planted on French soil. That was the prospect that uplifted all German +hearts to face, in 1916, another year of war. + + +2 + +So the first act of the great drama ended with Germany everywhere +triumphant in the East and the Allies unable to force a decision +anywhere on their own chosen ground of the West. But this result had +only hardened the Western allies to persist. Their very lives were now +at stake, and they still held the German lines immobilised, and the +German coasts in the grip of the blockade. Economically, Germany could +persist no more than Napoleon had persisted, in bearing the strain. She +still had two military weapons whereby she might be able to bring her +last two opponents, France and England, to the ground. These were her +own power of making munitions, a power which had been tested and proven +successful in pulverising the Russians in the spring of 1915; and in +addition, the submarine which might eventually starve out England. +Both weapons were launched on the world in full strength in 1916. + +The million of shells which the German armies showered on Verdun +in the first twelve hours’ bombardment of that fortress, and the +million tons of shipping which England began losing every month, +proved, however, equally ineffective to bring the war to its close. +The first led directly to open discontent behind the lines in Germany +itself; the latter led indirectly to America’s entry into the war. For +despite the wave of horror that had swept over her at the loss of the +_Lusitania_, America now learned with amazement that the Germans had +no intention whatever of abandoning the submarine, with its constant +threat to neutral traffic. The outcome was to bring America into the +struggle as a fresh factor of incalculable strength against an already +disillusioned Germany. + +Yet this decision was not taken immediately. Apart from two strongly +vocal minorities, one of which insistently upheld the cause of the +Allies, while the other just as clearly pointed out the tremendous +triumphs of the German military machine, the great bulk of the American +people were still indifferent. They had, and they desired, no quarrel +with the people of Germany. On this basis, the sentimental basis of +“having kept America out of the war,” President Wilson was re-elected +in November 1916. He knew, and had given indications that he knew, +that the business of American neutrality was played out. But this +knowledge was not shared by the great majority of his people, who +fondly hoped to continue to profit at the expense of both sides in the +struggle, by maintaining a prosperous neutrality. + +With incredible folly, the military leaders of Germany, blind to the +harvest of suffering they were creating in the homes and hearts of +their own people, played completely into the American President’s +hands. They issued a proclamation pointing out the devastation that +the German arms had already caused (a devastation real enough when +we consider that a million Russians had been slaughtered, another +million were prisoners in German hands, and that great tracts of land +had been left desert in Northern France, Poland, and the Balkans) and +demanding that this destruction should now cease. Let the Allies come +to the council table, and they would learn Germany’s demands. In the +swollen phrases of this threatening note, the American President found +his opportunity. He issued an appeal to the Allies to state their war +aims. The reply was unexpectedly moderate, but official Germany gave no +indication that she would accept it. Instead, while Wilson spoke openly +of a peace without victory, based on the cessation of interference +by one nation in another’s affairs, government by the consent of the +governed, freedom of the seas, and limitation of armaments, Germany +unsheathed her last weapon. On January 31st, 1917, she proclaimed a +blockade of England, France, and Italy, closed the ports of Europe +to neutral shipping, and declared that her submarines would sink +henceforward all ships that endeavoured to trade with the belligerents +at war with Germany. The answer was prompt and immediate. The American +government severed diplomatic relations with Germany. + +Thus America came into the war in defence of the same principle of +freedom of the seas about which she had once before fought England in +1812. The leaders of Germany, had they possessed any intimate knowledge +of American history, or the American character, might have foreseen +this result. For the American nation as a whole lives and flourishes +by, and wages its greatest struggles over, the application of certain +very simple shibboleths and slogans. It was so in 1776, in 1812, in +1861, and it was again to prove so in 1917. Unlike the Russians, who +can always change their outward principles completely, without losing +any of their inner characteristics, the Americans have no special inner +characteristics (as they have no aristocracy) but make up for this lack +by their whole-hearted obedience to certain primary ideas and taboos +which are to them sacred. The threat which Germany delivered to the +cherished right of America to trade freely with all the nations of the +earth, and thereby to end the whole edifice of American prosperity, +proved sufficient to unite all sections of the American people; and +never did President Wilson speak more surely on behalf of the entire +nation than when, paraphrasing Luther, he declared that America “could +do no other” than fight. + +Thus it happened that America, immense in untouched power and resource, +united to defeat Germany at the same moment when Russia, bleeding and +defeated, with an internal revolution on her hands, reeled out of the +struggle. For the first time--if we except the opening up of Japan in +which each had taken previously a hand--the two nations whose effort +was to dominate the future, met on a common ground. Like an electric +flash, or the torches that the Greek runners had carried in their +races long gone by, an impulse flashed from one to the other. That +impulse may have differed in origin, but not in aim. What Russia by her +concentration of power into a vacillating but central ruling class, +could not do, America, by her diffusion of power into a self-reliant +bourgeoisie, accomplished. Russia had crippled the European nationalist +military machine; America overwhelmed the economic. And not only the +liberated Slavs of Eastern Europe, but also the Mediterranean powers, +owe their existence to-day to the action of two nations, neither of +which stood to profit thereby: America and Russia. + + +3 + +The impulse that had pushed the two great frontier nations forward +to their momentary encounter on the blood-soaked and devastated soil +of Europe, was unquestionably the same in essence, though differing +profoundly in origin and in ultimate result. In the case of Russia, the +unconscious weight of public opinion, holding steadily to its ancient +dream of a great Pan-Slav Empire, had literally pushed from behind +the vacillating and enfeebled Czar. In the case of America, an aloof, +cautious, and essentially undemocratic President had found at last a +democratic formula to which popular opinion, holding firm to its old +dream of liberty for all peoples, could respond. The situation of 1688, +of 1776-89, of 1860-65 was thus repeated, on a larger scale, and with +the world itself for background; and the repercussion of both events in +their respective countries led to the same profound and far-reaching +changes. + +In America, the principles which President Wilson had enunciated in +his celebrated Fourteen Points--principles which the Allies promptly +accepted as a basis for negotiation with a Germany, now ready to +acknowledge its defeat, and which they conveniently forgot immediately +afterwards--came into open and direct conflict with the outstanding +notion which had guided America in its foreign relations since the days +of Washington; that there was to be above all, aloofness from Europe, +no entanglement in European affairs. The result was that the American +President, who had been unquestionably empowered by his people to wage +war, found himself unable to make peace. The moment he stepped upon +European soil, President Wilson ceased to represent the American people +and became only representative of himself. Thus the declaration of +the Armistice led not to peace and sheathing of the sword, but to the +last act of the world struggle, an act in which America was obliged to +play the part of striving to rehabilitate Europe economically, while +standing aloof politically. + +At the other end of the scale, it is necessary to note that since the +spring of 1917, Russia had been in revolution, a revolution which took +an extreme form in the Bolshevik seizure of power in November of that +year. Lacking a Czar, abandoned by its Allies, utterly disillusioned +about the war, leaderless, and incapable of continuing the struggle, +the country now presented an opportunity to any clever opportunist who +could, under the guise of promising to the peasants bread, peace and +land, effectively usurp the central power of the Czar. Lenin alone +saw this opportunity and was ready to seize it and bend it to its +purposes. A new alliance equally deadly to avowed Czarists and liberal +intellectuals was forged between factory-worker and mujik; and from the +achievement of this alliance we date present-day Russia. The situation +had found the sole man, ruthless, undemocratic, efficient, who could +guide it. In America, Wilson had skilfully manœuvred his people into +a position where further retreat into neutrality was, as he thought, +impossible. He had created his own opportunity, instead of waiting +for it to come to him; and having created it, he immediately supposed +that he could personally master it, and that it would follow him +blindly. He did not count on the revulsion of horror that would follow +upon America’s awakening to the fact that the country was enmeshed +in European diplomacy, the determination on the part of his people +to remain an independent frontier. Thus the American and the Russian +crises followed very different courses. + +There is much in the career of Woodrow Wilson that recalls the tragic +life-story of the Egyptian Pharaoh, Amenophis IV, known to later +ages as Akhnaton. Like the Egyptian king who strove to transform +the religion of his people from a tribal polytheism into a pure and +universal form of monotheism, Wilson strove to formulate finally the +American creed as it affected the world. But the American creed is too +loosely held, too vague a sentiment, to be formulated. A Californian, +though he may belong to the same racial stock, cannot have the same +outlook as a New Englander; a New Orleans Creole cannot share the +attitude to life of a Scandinavian settler in Northern Michigan. +America owes its continuance solely to the fact that all these diverse +racial and geographical stocks assume that their pooled effort will +make America sufficient to itself, and that “government of the people +by the people for the people” will still persist in bestowing the +fruits of middle-class prosperity. But it is obvious that this simple +creed--or superstition--cannot be maintained if once any attempt is +made to apply it to the more complex European situation. Once America +backs any side in the European struggle, then that side has to become +outwardly, if not inwardly, American; that is to say, it has to abandon +all the traditional differences that distinguish it from its European +neighbours. Wilson strove to reconcile the psychology of America with +the remoter psychology of Europe, in the same way as Amenophis strove +to identify all forms of Egyptian worship with his own personal and +individual creed. In striving thus to simplify the situation, he merely +complicated it. And the result was, as in the case of the Egyptian +Pharaoh whom he resembled, a personal tragedy of immense magnitude, +which left the American President an outlaw and heretic in his own +country, and pursued him to his death with rancour and misunderstanding. + +Russia in repudiating the war and the Romanovs had to repudiate +Europe, and this despite the Bolsheviks themselves, whose dream was +probably a Marxian version of Peter the Great’s Empire. It became +again a peasant country facing the East. America, by its repudiation +of Wilson, was driven also to repudiate Europe, and this despite the +most intelligent classes of Americans who were aware that the one hope +of the maintenance of European peace lay in the establishment of an +European concert of nations. America became again a land of opportunist +industrialism, facing westward. Thus the two nations, having like two +planets revolved in opposing orbits up to the moment these orbits +coincided, resumed again their former course, but not without the hope +of some further encounter in the future. The optimistic idealism of +President Wilson, ready to accept the most outrageous provisions of +the Versailles Treaty for the sake of preserving his conception of +a League of Nations bound to respect the fundamental principles of +democracy, was finally rejected not by Europe, but by America. The +fatalistic materialism of Lenin, ready to swallow complete defeat at +Brest-Litovsk for the sake of creating a proletarian world-empire, +broke equally before the lack of European support and the obstinacy +of the Russian peasantry. With Wilson’s final retirement and Lenin’s +new economic policy the issue of the great drama was largely settled +as regards the two chief protagonists of Russia and America. But the +third, Europe, caught in the cleft of the dilemma, unable to decide +for either democratic capitalism or demagogic dictatorship, has as yet +found no clear issue out of the impasse. + +This position, which is the world position of to-day, was enforced on +Europe by the successive abandonment of the European situation on the +part of both Russia and America. In the case of Russia, the abandonment +was perhaps more absolute, because it was more deeply psychological. +The Russian asked Europe for a new fetich, a new sacred talisman, to +replace the old fetich of the Orthodox Czar which was utterly worn out, +and impotent to protect him longer against misfortune. Such a belief +in the power of a fetich, a cult-object, is Oriental, and indeed the +Russian is fundamentally Oriental. The fetich of success had been +imported formerly from abroad, by Peter the Great, by Catherine, by +Alexander II, by Witte. Now it was no longer forthcoming. Even the guns +and the gold that the Allies had promised and provided, were turning +against the Russians themselves. A new talisman would have to be found +within. Lenin was the sole man who could provide it. A workman’s cap, +a few words from Marx, education and electric light for all, would be +sufficient. Russia could scramble out of her impasse, secure in the +conviction that she henceforth could control her destiny alone, while +undermining the nations of Europe with their own revolutionary ethic. + +But America, too, abandoned Europe for causes that, however economic +they may appear on the surface, have a firmly-grounded psychological +foundation. Unlike Russia, all the talismans, wealth, power, +prosperity, were in her hands. But she was uneasy because she could +not discover a verbal formula that would cover equally her own +political union and the diversity of disunited European nations. This +belief in a formula--which expresses itself in Egyptian hieroglyph, +in Aristotelian syllogism, in algebraic equation--is Occidental, and +America is fundamentally Occidental. Even the arguments of the most +enlightened European statesmen, prepared to back up President Wilson +in his demand for a League of Nations, turned against America itself. A +League of Nations--what did that mean but a confederation of sovereign +and independent states such as had threatened to disrupt the economic +alliance between North and Middle West during the fateful years of +1854-65? What else did it mean, but that the Americans themselves, in +so far as they were still sentimentally attached to Europe, could still +feel themselves to be Europeans? The whole process of “Americanization” +was threatened by such a programme. Common standards of Puritan +conduct, of business dealing, of economic prosperity were threatened by +such a step. Wilson’s words, however close they seemed to Lincoln’s, +would effectively destroy all that the armies invoked by Lincoln had +fought for. They would destroy Americanism, and make Europeans equal +in every respect, to Americans. Let them be anathema! America hastened +to scramble out of her impasse, fearful that the European nations were +plotting against her, and determined henceforth to undermine them by +means of the “peaceful penetration” of mass-production. + +Nations have their phobias and complexes no less than individuals. In +the case of America and Russia, a complex and a phobia were to take the +place of the natural growth of tradition, and to strive to overcome the +world. + + + + +Chapter XVII + + +For the past ten years the situation of Europe has been both grotesque +and tragic. Had she made her exit from the stage of world-politics with +the gesture of tragic dignity that marked the downfall of the ancient +Roman Empire, had she been overwhelmed by a new wave of barbarians, +the historian of to-day might have a more pleasant and profitable task +to fulfill. But unfortunately nothing of this came to pass, nor did +Europe really recover from the death-blow of the war. Since 1921, when +the French armies marched into the Ruhr, she has become like a patient +suffering from shell-shock who acts irresponsibly and has no coherent +purpose in life. Apart from the tenuous hope of a League of Nations +which has not been able to prevent fresh combinations of power, such +as have been clearly revealed by the various naval pacts, nor fresh +outbursts of rabid nationalism, such as France, Italy and various +Balkan nationalities have displayed, Europe has done little, either +morally or politically. Of the two new world-philosophies offered her, +she has chosen neither. + +The American world-philosophy, in the ultimate form that it has taken +since the close of the war, is a rough-and-ready simplification of +the far more complex but equally individualistic social philosophy +of Washington, Jefferson and Lincoln. It exalts the physical liberty +of the individual at the expense of his general social and moral +responsibility. Immediately after the close of war, the labour +situation in America became again acute. The great industrial trade +unions, realising the immense part they had played in carrying the +Allied effort to a successful conclusion, had long begun to agitate +for an overthrow of the existing form of government and for such a +seizure of power as had been effected in Russia. The American system +of democratic capitalism, reverting into the hands of the great +industrialists and their allies and servants, set itself to the +task of destroying this opposition. Its two outstanding means were +mass-production and coöperative capitalism. It set itself to the task +of manufacturing more quickly and of giving the worker a share in +the product. Thereby it created a new prosperity and a standardised +happiness. Any protest became in the eyes of its leaders a crime +against true Americanism. To enforce this unalterable Americanism upon +the immense masses of citizens of foreign descent, it was necessary to +stop the flow of immigration; and this was promptly done. To prevent +the country lapsing into a state of sheer moral anarchy, such as was +foreshadowed by the post-war revivals of the Ku Klux Klan, the fierce +recrudescence of race-hatreds cutting athwart all sections of American +life, it was necessary to concentrate solely on a more intensive +development of that industrial prosperity that had characterised the +war years. The South was industrially invaded as well as the North, +the East and the West became more firmly linked together by the +great money and manufacturing interests. Finally, to ensure that the +reëstablishment of the country was to be permanent, on the old basis of +complete aloofness from both European radicalism and European idealism, +it was necessary to stifle or suppress freedom of spirit, freedom of +thought, freedom of public utterance, and to concentrate altogether +on the immense material achievements that America had already +accomplished--the improvement in living conditions, the provisions of +schools, hospitals, roads, and scientific inventions for all sections +of the population. Accordingly, the study of American patriotic views +became an important part of school curriculums. Anyone who thought +otherwise than these views taught, must either hold his peace or accept +exile and poverty. During the years that immediately succeeded the war, +a new body of American intellectuals again took the road to Europe, +not to mention those who were forcibly cast out upon Soviet Russia. + +The Russian world-philosophy, as formulated by the leaders of the new +Bolshevik régime, was also a comprehensive simplification of what was +formerly a much more complex social position. It skilfully provided +an outlet for public enterprise, while maintaining the power in the +hands of a specially chosen and selected class. Unquestioningly the +Bolsheviks accepted the postulate, which America had been foremost in +proclaiming, that all power derives ultimately from the lowest ranks of +the people, from the peasants and factory workers. This happened also +to be the postulate of Karl Marx, and accordingly Marxism became a new +State religion to take the place of the old, which had delegated this +power of the people themselves into the hands of the Czar and of the +Orthodox Church. But in its application to the situation created by +the Russian débâcle, this dogma proved to be just as much of a check +upon free activity as had all the old restrictions of the Czar. It +exalted the moral and social responsibility of the individual at the +expense of his physical liberty. Everyone, whether Communist or not, +must henceforth behave in the way laid out for him by the heads of the +Communist party, who though representing an even smaller proportion +of the entire people than the American Wall Street magnates, +nevertheless had now all the power in their hands. The masses would be +fed, housed, educated, on condition only that they did not undertake +counter-revolutionary propaganda, and the Communist Secret Service +was there to enforce this law, on penalty of death or imprisonment, +against all who attempted to modify the existing political system. A +new revolutionary army, recruited among the peasants, and backed by +firm discipline, arose to take the place of the old; but the field +of its activity was to be limited to helping the foreign proletariat +to overthrow their own capitalist Imperialist governments, and to +maintaining Lenin’s system intact at home. All foreign influences, +whether in the shape of very limited concessions to foreign capital, +or works of art with a definitely anti-communist tendency, were to +be severely supervised and ruthlessly suppressed. Thus freedom of +activity outside the bounds of the Communist dogma became as impossible +in Russia during the years after the war, as freedom of thought +outside the bounds of the Capitalist assumption became in America. +The underlying aim of the Russians became to create an army of young +Lenins; that of the Americans to achieve a million Henry Fords.[8] + +It is quite obvious that none of the European nations could +whole-heartedly accept either the American or the Russian solution. +To follow the Russian idea out in all its logical implications meant +the suppression of the Parliamentary régime to which Europe had been +accustomed, and the transformation of all the European countries from +constitutional monarchies to proletarian dictatorships, in which +the will of a single man, or a small committee of men reinforced +and balanced through the establishment of local advisory councils +controlled all industrial production. To carry out in detail the +American idea, it was necessary for Europe to abolish all gradations +of rank and responsibility, such as a constitutional monarchy implies, +and to concentrate entirely on demagogic parliamentarism, backed and +controlled by the industrial interests which have everything to gain +from an increase of individual production and prosperity. To follow +out this ideal proved quite as impossible for Europe as to Russianise +their existing populations. The traditional conservatism which dreads a +complete break with the past, the already established forms of social, +moral, and religious usage, and the lingering remnants of nationalist +pride and sentiment, stood everywhere in the way. Only in one country, +Italy, was the combination effected of proletarian demagogy and +autocratic dictatorship. Thanks to a chapter of accidents, Mussolini +and his henchmen took over the rule of that country from the hands +of the conservative Catholics and the anti-clerical Liberals alike. +For the rest, the European countries tended to fall into the same +alignment that had been theirs upon the first appearance of America +and Russia upon the stage of the world. Western Europe, led by England +and reconstructed Germany, tended to become more and more American and +parliamentary; Eastern Europe, under the leadership of Italy, Hungary, +Poland, tended to become more and more arbitrary and swayed by the +dictates of revolutionary militarism. + + +2 + +The modern world, which we are examining from the perilously close +range of participators in, rather than spectators of its effort, is +essentially the fruit of two streams of influence, emanating from +beyond the European frontier, and expressing themselves logically +in the solutions of the social problem which America and Russia +have found. These two streams of influence have been at work upon +Europe, and in a different way upon the Far East, for at least two +centuries past. At the present moment they are rapidly approaching +their culmination. In order to understand this culmination it is +necessary to turn aside from the field of outward political action and +to state, as far as such things can be finally stated, the fundamental +psychological characteristics that go to the making up of what may be +called the typical Russian and the typical American. + +The Americans, taken as a class apart from Europeans or Asiatics, +tend to have no interest whatever in thought for its own sake. Their +special delight is not in thought, but in purely physical activity. +This refusal to think maturely, to speculate even remotely about the +ultimate problems of the world and of humanity, has frequently led +European observers to characterise the American people as a young +nation, a nation not grown up. But it was possibly quite as evident +in the days of Washington as it is now; the only difference being +that it has by now grown a dominating characteristic of all parts +of the country, whereas in the early stages it was confined mostly +to the frontier, and obscured from view by the influence of the +better-educated colonial seaboard settlements, still under the spell +of European ways of thinking. The whole course of American history may +be summed up as the history of the spread of the pioneer and of his +type of mind into every department of human effort. The pioneer type +is always a man too busy with cutting away virgin forests, building +roads, cultivating land, opening mines and factories, inventing +machines, making automobiles, gambling with stocks, devoting himself +to social “service,” to stop and ponder upon the æsthetic values of +art and religion, or the metaphysical problems of human destiny. +Such questions cannot enter into his pragmatic scheme of material +effort directed towards immediate ends. For him the sheer delight of +making suffices, not the value of the thing made. So habitual, so +universal has this cult of activity for its own sake grown to the +Americans, that it is constantly employed by all ranks of the people +as a substitute for thought. The American uses leisure itself, not as +a valuable opportunity for self-examination, but only as a stimulus +to some new kind of activity. Sports and games, travel, book- and +picture-collecting, education itself, become for him simply fresh +pretexts for employing some more of his surplus energy, for taking +part in some new form of mental distraction. For example, the European +lecturers who annually go to America in such great numbers may be under +the illusion that they are somehow guiding or directing the American +mind into more fruitful channels; their American audiences are under +no such illusion. Their aim is at the best merely to rapidly get +firsthand information about some new fact that puzzles them; at the +worst, to momentarily accept the lecturer’s own views as a substitute +for creative and independent thinking of their own, whereby they share +the illusion that they are actually participating in some form of human +thought-process. + +Even when the American is in repose, he must somehow feel that his +body, if not his mind, is exerting itself. The fundamental symbol of +American life is not, as many observers have held, the skyscraper, +with its busy activity, nor the athletic field with its gladiatorial +baseball and football games, nor even that puritanic symbol of the +pitcher of melting ice-water which makes its inevitable appearance +equally upon the tables of the humblest lunch counters and the desks +of bank presidents and statesmen. The true, the classic American +symbol is the rocking-chair. It symbolises alike domestic comfort, and +nomadic restlessness. In the rocking-chair one need not speak and yet +one must continue to move to and fro. In the rocking-chair activity +becomes a soothing narcotic, and absence of mental purpose a stimulus +to further effort. The rocking-chair removes all the necessity for +the contemplation of the great cosmos of justice and injustice, truth +and falsehood, beauty and ugliness, to plant man firmly in the lesser +cosmos of his personal individuality, his simple animal “reaction” to +practical truth. In the rocking-chair one can “loaf and invite one’s +soul” for an endless journey. The goal does not matter. This is true +on every weekday, and on Sunday the activities of the rocking-chair +are supplemented by the Sunday newspaper supplement, providing another +substitute for thought. + +On the other hand, the Russians, as opposed to the Americans, tend to +have very little interest in physical activity. A fund of Mongolian +inertia, concealed at the roots of the Russian character, probably +accounts for this; but it is impossible to understand the tragic +disorder of many Russian lives,[9] as well as the strange crisis of +feverish and misdirected fury that traverse Russian history, unless we +admit at the outset that the Russian is in some way prejudiced against +activity for its own sake. If he undertakes activity at all, it must +be for some object that lies beyond activity. Thus we find the Russian +peasant becoming a tramp in order to “save his soul”; the Russian +intellectual indulging in all forms of drunken debauchery in order to +acquire the “experience that is necessary to an artist”; the Russian +Czar making war on Oriental or European nations in order to prove that +he is “by the Grace of God, leader of Eastern Orthodox Christianity.” +Nor has the Russian Revolution brought about any change in this state +of affairs. Lenin himself, although he displayed while in power a +quite remarkably un-Russian ability to make rapid decisions, owed +his advent to power largely to his ability to hold his ground without +altering his position. His own pedantic and doctrinaire Marxism shows, +no less than his stoic fatalism, the fact that mere obstinate adherence +to a theory was to him more important than practice, for many years +before the moment that he suddenly found Russia at his feet. And Lenin +owed, though perhaps he himself would never have admitted it, a great +deal to the fiery Jew, Trotsky, who was profoundly un-Russian, indeed +American, in temperament. The Revolution owed its success entirely to +a few clean-cut practical actions thrown athwart a raging torrent of +unpractical ideas and theories; Lenin and Trotsky rather saved Russia +from herself, than created a new Russia. And since the Revolution the +stream of endless discussion of theoretical ideas, has merely flowed +on, like water under a bridge, leaving the structure of the state +intact. A wise and witty French observer, Luc Durtain, who has seen +Russia since the Revolution, has remarked that the Russian conversation +is, in times of food shortage, in itself equal to meat and drink. + +What, then, is the specific symbol of Russian life? It is not the +immobile gleam of the ikon in the corner of the house, nor the +strangely drifting, tentative and slow-gathering mass-demonstrations +of the people, nor the oddly mechanical governmentally-ordered +demonstrations, nor the curiously vivid splashes of gay and exotic +colour that contrast with the sombreness of the landscape. The specific +symbol of Russia is probably the samovar. Ready at all times of the day +and night to provide hot water, it stimulates but does not nourish, +like the endless Russian conversations. It is the essential element +of every Russian social gathering, and yet at the same time is only a +pretext for meeting and wasting one’s energy in talk: as much a pretext +as Moscow, Russia itself, life, or the Universe in Russian eyes. It +does not provide tea in itself. For that a teapot is still necessary. +It only provides the hot water that may be used or not to produce tea, +as you will. In short, it is as perfect a symbol of inactive power as +anyone is ever likely to find. And, like Russia herself, it has fire +in its belly: fire hidden away from too prying eyes, under an outward +shell of servility and conformity. + + +3 + +The conflict that is being fought out to-day between America and +Russia is a psychological one. It is a subjective conflict between two +opposed conceptions of the destiny of mankind, rather than an objective +conflict between armies and directly political aims. And the two +fields of its activity are the European and the Asiatic world. + +Both Russia and America have achieved within their borders what to them +is the perfect mode of existence. They have arrived at the Utopian +state of complete optimism and confidence for the future. Despite the +activities of one set of European prophets, the Soviet system has not +broken down. It is more secure, after ten years, than the system of +Czardom that it replaced. Despite the activities of another set of +prophets, American democratic capitalism has not broken down either. It +apparently possesses inexhaustible reserves of prosperity and energy. +But Europe, scarcely recovered from the horrors of its own internecine +struggle, cannot follow the course of either country. Europe is like +the ancient Hebrew monarchy divided between the imperialist tolerance +of the kings of Israel and the narrow particularism of the kings of +Judah. To the working classes the Russian solution, in its trenchant +logic, immediately appeals; but this drives the capitalist classes only +further towards embracing the ideas of America. To the intellectuals, +the American solution is a monstrous vulgarisation; but this only means +that they must either become reactionary, or accept the revolutionary +message of Russia. Europe, caught between the intellectual and +moral millstones of two great powers which were originally of its +own creation, but which have gone their own ways without accepting +the nineteenth century compromises, is awaiting a new political +Messiah with a clear message; hence the popularity of such a figure +as Mussolini. But whether Europe, in its decadent cosmopolitanism, +will ever achieve anything resembling the unity of which its poets +only dreamed, is doubtful. It is far more likely to pass, by gradual +infiltration of influence and direction, completely under the sway of +the United States. + +But it is not only in Europe that the world-struggle is being waged. +The balance of power, ultimately, lies in the Far East, and its +enormous reserves of natural resources and of population. And during +the past ten years the Far East has shown clearly the direction it +proposes to follow. It is ready to accept the material achievements of +the West, without in the slightest degree altering its own racial and +social traditions. Thus it is ready to turn the weapons of the West +against the West itself, while remaining at heart far more akin to the +spirit of non-individualistic fatalism which has successfully guided +Russia. The most outstanding example of this recent development in the +East is Japan, which in the words of a modern Russian writer, “wishes +to take her machinery from America, her spiritual culture from Russia.” +China and India are likely sooner or later to take the same path, +thanks to the awakening of Asiatic racial pride, actively fomented +by Europe’s glaring administrative blunders and internal political +divisions. + + +4 + +The parallel lines that we have drawn between the two great frontier +nations are now complete, and the whole world finds itself in the +dilemma of having to make either a choice or a compromise between the +ideals of America and of Russia. At the present moment, the tendency is +probably towards a compromise of some sort, the war years and post-war +years having too profoundly shaken mankind. But this tendency is only +temporary, and is due to the slow disappearance of the generation that +lived through the crisis of the war, a generation that emerged from the +conflict profoundly sceptical of itself and of others, and incapable of +the supreme unreason of an absolute creed. + +If Russia succeeds in consolidating its moral gains in the Far East, +while America no less succeeds in its clever policy of economic +penetration into Europe--a policy to which European newspapers, +theatres, hotels, shops and social usages are gradually but +unmistakably responding--if these two achievements come about, another +world-conflict is almost certain to take place before the close of +the twentieth century. For between an industrialised and proletarian +East and an industrialised and plutocratic West, the population +problem will rapidly become as acute as it already is in Japan. Nor +will the sporadic and necessarily individualistic propaganda of birth +control mend matters here. Under the present conditions controlling +this propaganda, the better, finer and more harmonious sections +of the population simply tend to die out, while the lower, baser, +and least intelligent, go on increasing--thus destroying the aim +of eugenics and inverting the true course of human evolution. This +inversion of evolution is now powerfully aided by the mushroom-like +growth of industrial capitalism, ready to exploit the lower levels for +its own purposes, and also by all so-called “religious” propaganda, +which has unfortunately always an equally “practical” end in view, +whether directed by the ideals of Communist Bolshevism, Catholic +Ecclesiasticism, or American Rotarianism. Thus the only hope for +avoidance of a conflict between the two forces loosed on the world +by Russia and America, becomes some shadowy proposal for complete +disarmament, or the limitation of competitive industrialism and the +breeding of a new aristocratic élite to control the economic and social +life of the various nations. Such a proposal lies apparently outside +the sphere of “practical” politics, and only the idealist philosopher +Plato has dealt fully with its implications. + +The fact that most intelligent Europeans have come to despair of the +prospect, and have practically abandoned any further attempt to control +the two opposing forces let loose upon the world, is shown by the +extraordinary revival, within recent years, of intellectual interest +in the eighteenth century. Such people realise that the nineteenth +century, with its compromise between materialism and idealism, failed +to liberate humanity, so they yearn to go back to a happier, more +harmonious time, before instinct and reason conflicted, when neither +Russia nor America interfered with the course of human existence. This +movement towards the eighteenth century is however merely a final +gesture of world-weary romanticism, impotent to create any new values +for humanity. It cannot postpone by a single day the conflict that is +increasingly approaching between the unloosed forces of America and +Russia. + +The only factors that may prevent that conflict from taking on an acute +phase in the not distant future, exist not in hyper-intellectual and +creatively sterile Europe, but in Russia and in America themselves. +Russia’s attempt to get the East completely on her side by stirring +up the Asiatics against the Caucasians may perhaps prove abortive, +for the reason that the heads of the Communist party take at the +same time no pains to conceal their immense contempt for all forms +of transcendent and organised religion save their own. This side of +Bolshevik propaganda may possibly fail to appeal very strongly to the +other-worldly millions of the Orient. At the same time, America’s +effort to control Europe through intensive financial and economic +penetration may possibly fail because of the inferior intellectual +character of the envoys she sends to Europe, or because Europe may +still place a higher value on leisure, culture, and beauty, than upon +any of the energy-wasting devices America has to offer her. But apart +from this, there seems very little doubt that America and Russia are +destined to bulk more and more largely in the world’s affairs, until +the inevitable clash between them takes place. Europe has no longer the +economic force nor the creative will to resist America. Asia has no +longer the spiritual fervour nor the unified faith to hold back Russia. + +If such a conflict as we have envisaged should take place, what would +be the result? The crisis of the European war would simply be repeated +on a larger scale. Russia, together with her Eastern allies, would +possess incalculable reserves of man-power; and the fact that the +Soviet Republic has shown a determination to maintain in existence a +highly-efficient and disciplined army of considerable numbers, would +give her an initial advantage, in case the first attack in the opening +stages of the contest came from her side. But America and her European +allies would undoubtedly possess a preponderance of machinery, greater +financial resources, and a far superior naval and aerial force. After +the first year of battle, their effort would only increase, while +Russia’s effort would almost necessarily diminish. Russia’s only hope +would be in a short rather than in a long war. + +On the other hand, even should the Western Allies hold the coasts +of Russia, together with the Far East, in a complete blockade, a +Russo-Mongolian combination could continue the struggle almost +indefinitely. The immense reserves of food, land, and man-power at the +disposal of the Soviet war lords would insure this. Russia cannot be +completely beaten by a blockade (even when that is aided by internal +famine) as the Allies found out in 1919. Nor can she be beaten by +land-invasion, as Napoleon found out in 1812. The only hope for the +West of obtaining a decision in their favour would be to invade and +terrorise Russia through the air. Such a campaign, if the West had +sufficient preponderance in the air to carry it to a successful +conclusion, might eventually lead to an admission of physical defeat +on Russia’s part. But hers would nevertheless remain a moral victory of +enormous importance to the future of the human race. + +The dangers of a war of this nature, especially if the forces engaged +are anywhere near equal, can scarcely be overstated. The recent +European war gave those who took part in it a faint foretaste of them. +There would be continuous bombing of enemy capitals, communications, +granaries, food and munition depots. Armies would operate at enormous +distances from their base of supplies, with resultant tension and +spirit of mutiny ready to flame up every moment. Ocean-going submarines +would defy the blockade, and spread death and destruction on the high +seas. Governments might have to meet and be conducted from secret +places underground in order to escape destruction from poison-gas and +other lethal weapons. Spying and counter-spying would be universal. +Such a state of affairs might well lead the world rapidly back to a +state of sheer anarchy, and undo in a few years the finest effort of +five thousand years of civilisation. The break-up of the Roman Empire, +or the recent chaos in China, offers but a feeble picture of what such +a world would be like. The end of such a conflict might well be such a +state of famine, disorder and exhaustion as to leave no hope to mankind +for the future. + +Under these circumstances, the duty of every intelligent Russian and +every intelligent American of to-day becomes clear. Since salvation is +not to be looked for either from the old civilisations of the East nor +from the more recent European civilisations; since both are now rapidly +and inevitably in decay after their last great creative period (which +was the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, rather than the eighteenth +or nineteenth); since, above all, no revival of unified religious faith +is to be looked for either among the Western Christian sects, or the +great Oriental religions, we must either find some hope of salvation +in ourselves, or admit our defeat, and with it the ultimate defeat +of mankind. Step by step, inch by inch, we must oppose the tides of +Bolshevism and of Americanism that are now sweeping over the world. We +must save America and Russia from themselves. That is our mission and +our purpose. But how can we fulfil this mission that our time--perhaps +the most tragic time in all human history--imposes upon us? We can +not fulfil it separately, for that is a task beyond the powers of any +single man, or body of men. We must strive to inform both America and +Russia with a purpose alien to their whole historical development. +Against these two attempts to impose on mankind a purely mechanical and +material conformity, we must uphold, perhaps for the last time, the +values of an ideal and supra-physical unity of spirit, not of function, +of a humanism that is at once scientific and æsthetic, and of a world +outlook that reconciles both man’s desire to achieve “the good life” +for himself on this planet, and his overwhelming sense of awe and +wonder at the superhuman processes of the universe. Perhaps this task +is altogether beyond our feeble and intermittent powers. Yet it is the +one remaining task left to humanity to accomplish in our age. And after +all, it is a problem that only education can solve, and we must leave +it to the teachers to accomplish. It is Russia, not America, that needs +an Emerson to lead it towards individual self-reliance. It is America, +not Russia that needs a Dostoevsky to show it the value of common +submission to the mysterious powers that govern the development of all +spirituality. + + _April 1927-August 1929._ + + + + +BIBLIOGRAPHY + + +The list that follows is not intended to be exhaustive. To cite, for +example, all the literary works of the authors discussed in Book III +would be a wearisome and a fruitless task. The list here given will be +found valuable to the student who seeks to expand his mental horizon by +reading further on the topics discussed in these pages. + + +_GENERAL WORKS_ + +A History of Russia, by Sir Bernard Pares. 1927. + +The Oxford History of the United States, by S. E. Morison. 2 vols. 1927. + +Main Currents in American Thought, by Vernon Louis Parrington. 1927. + + Vol. I. The Colonial Mind (1620-1800). + + Vol. II. The Romantic Revolution (1800-1860). + +A History of Russian Literature to 1881, by Prince D. S. Mirsky. 1927. + +Contemporary Russian Literature, 1881-1925, by Prince D. S. Mirsky. +1926. + + (These two books contain valuable bibliographies of works + translated into English.) + +Panorama de la Littérature Russe Contemporaire, by Vladimir Pozner. +Paris. 1929. + +The Decline of the West, by Oswald Spengler. 2 vols. 1926-9. + +Essai sur l’Inégalité des Races Humains, by Count Arthur Gobineau. 2 +vols. Paris. 1884. + +The Degradation of the Democratic Dogma, by Henry Adams. 1919. + +The Law of Civilization and Decay, by Brooks Adams. 1921. + +The Revolutions of Civilization, by Flinders Petrie. + +History of Religions, by G. F. Moore. Vol. I (Egypt, Babylonia, +Assyria, etc.). International Theological Library, 1914. + +The Amarna Age. A Study of the Crisis of the Ancient World, by Rev. +James Baikie. 1926. + +The Emancipation of Massachusetts, by Brooks Adams. Revised and +enlarged edition with new Preface. 1919. + +Middletown, by Robert S. and Helen Merrill Lynd. 1929. + +The Golden Day, by Lewis Mumford. 1926. + + +_WORKS ON SPECIAL TOPICS_ + +George Washington, the Image and the Man, by W. E. Woodward. 1928. + +Catherine the Great, by Katherine Anthony. 1925. + +Hawthorne, by Henry James. (English Men of Letters Series) 1879. + +Herman Melville, Mariner and Mystic, by Raymond M. Weaver. 1921. + +Whitman, An Interpretation in Narrative, by Emory Holloway. 1926. + +Walt Whitman, by Basil de Sélincourt. London. 1914. + +Dostoevsky, by André Gide. Paris. 1923. + +Tolstoy as Man and Artist, by Dmitri Merejkowski. 1902. + +The Ordeal of Mark Twain, by Van Wyck Brooks. 1922. + +Stephen Crane, by Thomas Beer (with a preface by Joseph Conrad). 1923. + +Anton Chekhov, by Leon Shestov, 1916. + +Woodrow Wilson, by William Allen White. 1926. + +Woodrow Wilson: A Character Study, by R. E. Annin. 1924. + +Lenin, by Valeriu Marcu. 1928. + +Geist und Geschichte der Bolschewismus, by Réne Fülop-Miller. 1927. + +L’Autre Europe. Moscou et Sa Foi, by Luc Durtain. 1928. + + + + +FOOTNOTES + + +[1] The threat of pogroms has by no means disappeared under the +Bolsheviks. See Luc Durtain’s “L’Autre Europe” for details. + +[2] His mother’s name was Rachel Levine. His father is unknown. Mrs. +Levine might have been a Christian married in a Jewish family but the +name of Rachel is not common among Christians. + +[3] This statement may perhaps be questioned by some Catholics. +Apparently, Catholics are not allowed to undertake missionary activity +in Russia. But the church cult has not been suppressed. + +[4] This same image was recently removed by the Bolsheviks, apparently +without any opposition whatever. Such are the paradoxes of Russian +history. + +[5] A notable exception is the sermon in Melville’s “Moby Dick.” + +[6] Isabel F. Hapgood. Introduction to “Taras Bulba.” New York, 1915. + +[7] It has been estimated that during the fifty years between 1870 +and 1910, America added to her previous population of forty million, +twenty-five million foreign settlers. + +[8] See on this point, “The Diary of a Communist Schoolboy,” by S. +Ignatyev. Also “American Prosperity” by Paul M. Mazur. + +[9] For example, the life of Pushkin or of Dostoevsky. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78697 *** diff --git a/78697-h/78697-h.htm b/78697-h/78697-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..02057b9 --- /dev/null +++ b/78697-h/78697-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11001 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta name="format-detection" content="telephone=no,date=no,address=no,email=no,url=no"> + <title> + The Two Frontiers | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 7%; + margin-right: 7%; +} + +h1,h2,h3,h4 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +a {text-decoration: none;} +a:hover {text-decoration: underline;} + +p { + text-indent: 1.3em; + margin-top: .5em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .5em; +} + +p.noindent, .footnote p { + text-indent: 0; +} + +.chapter, .nobreak { } + +hr.chap { + border: none; + position: relative; + text-align: center; + margin: 3em 0; + page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: avoid; +} + +hr.chap::before { + content: "ꕥ"; + position: relative; + padding: 0 1em; + background: white; + color: #777; + z-index: 1; +} + +hr.chap::after { + content: ""; + position: absolute; + top: 50%; + left: 0; + width: 100%; + border-top: 2px solid #ddd; + z-index: 0; +} + +hr.front { + width: 10%; + margin: 1.5em 45%; + border: 0; + border-top: 1px solid #777; + page-break-after: avoid; + +} + +h3 {page-break-after: avoid;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 95%; + font-size: 70%; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; + color: #999; +} + +blockquote { + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 5%; +} + +blockquote.constrain { + margin: auto; + max-width: 25em + } + +.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +/* Footnotes */ + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 85.5%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: 0.7em; +} + +/* Poetry */ + +/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry */ +/* .poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} */ +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} + +.xlarge {font-size:x-large;} + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3.0em;} +.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2.0em;} +.poetry .indent4 {text-indent: -1.0em;} +.poetry .indent5 {text-indent: -0.5em;} +.poetry .indent17 {text-indent: 4.3em;} +.poetry .indent19 {text-indent: 5.5em;} + + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78697 ***</div> + + +<h1> +THE TWO<br> +FRONTIERS +</h1> + +<p class="center"> +A STUDY IN HISTORICAL PSYCHOLOGY<br> +<br> +<br> +<span class="xlarge">JOHN GOULD FLETCHER</span><br> +<br> +<br> +PUBLISHED IN NEW YORK BY<br> +COWARD-McCANN, INC.<br> +IN THE YEAR 1930 +</p> + +<hr class="front"> + +<p class="center"> +COPYRIGHT, 1930, BY<br> +COWARD-McCANN, INC.<br> +<br> +<i>Printed in the U.S.A.</i> +</p> + +<hr class="front"> + +<p class="center"> +<i>To</i><br> +ELIE FAURE +</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="BOOK_I"> + BOOK I + </h2> +</div> + + +<blockquote class="constrain"> +<p><i>Only strong personalities can endure history; the weak +are crushed beneath it.</i></p> + +<p class="right"> + <span class="allsmcap">NIETZSCHE.</span> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_3">[3]</span></p> +</blockquote> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_I"> + Chapter I + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>The study of history, which in the nineteenth +century became no longer the province of a +few specialists, but an almost universal pursuit +carried on in hundreds of schools, and seemingly +essential to the welfare of the State, is only of value +if we are able to use historical criteria, the values +of the past, as a means not only of judging but +also of directing the latent powers of the present +and the future. In most cases, however, to-day, +history is studied merely for the purpose of recovering +the past; and in order to bring the past into +relation with the present day, something more than +the pure historical sense is needed. For the process +called history is in reality irreversible; we cannot +go back to any specific age in the past and live in it +even if we would, for the simple reason that we are +the past plus—or minus—something. The only +conception of human progress that is philosophically +correct is not a conception of objective external +<span class="pagenum" id="p_4">[4]</span>progress at all: actually it is probable that we +exercise no more control over nature—and this despite +our machines and labour-saving inventions—than +our most remote and savage ancestors exercised +with their magical rituals to ensure a supply +of game, or the earth’s fertility. If we have +progressed at all, it is solely in subjective curiosity, +range of knowledge, and interest in our own destiny. +Through progress in research, depth of +speculation, we have become something different +from the peoples of the past. We have added to +their experience other experiences of our own. We +now face larger, more complex, and more world-embracing +problems than any Greek of the age of +Pericles ever envisaged. We must think more,—though +whether our thinking will lead to such good +results may well be doubted—than any of our forefathers +thought during the whole course of their +lives.</p> + +<p>The superficial study of history on the other hand +leads merely to the shallow modern view that history +has already organised the world and done our +thinking for us. We may develop this view optimistically +or pessimistically, but the results are +equally vicious. If we take the point of view that +history has made us the heirs of the ages, and set +us on the summit of human progress, we sink into +<span class="pagenum" id="p_5">[5]</span>a Philistine acceptance of evils that will lead inevitably +to disastrous self-complacency and to such +catastrophes as the recent European War. It was +in fact in Germany in the nineteenth century that +this view of history developed, under Fichte and +Hegel, and against its optimism Nietzsche wrote +the best of his early essays. But one can find much +of this same Philistine complacency with what history +has already achieved, in such countries as +America to-day, and it is partly with the aim of +destroying it, that I have embarked on this study. +On the other hand if we regard history more pessimistically +as a series of magnificent efforts which +somehow came to nothing, we fall into no less serious +an error. The outcome of such a belief is to +beg the entire question of our present-day existence. +We become nostalgically romantic over +some specific period in the past, say Ancient Greece +or the thirteenth century, and ascribe all our inability +fully to recapture the period in question to +something which we call “modern capitalism,” or +the Renaissance, or democracy, or evangelical +Christianity. In any case we transfer our own +responsibility for the present day to the shoulders +of some scapegoat—and thereby absolve ourselves. +But no one is really ever absolved from taking part +in history. The process of thinking of history in +<span class="pagenum" id="p_6">[6]</span>terms of the past alone, tends to an act of wish-fulfilment; +by it we merely make of history that +which we have already wished history to be.</p> + +<p>In order to correct this error in perspective, we +must cease to regard history as a mere procession +of events, and learn to look upon it from the standpoint +of art and religion; these being not only humanity’s +highest and noblest, but also humanity’s +ultimate and most completely absolute values. +From this standpoint the record of history is anything +but a record of progress. Rather is it a series +of fluctuations; periods of depression and stagnation +alternating with periods of great hope and +activity. That we have struck a period of stagnation +to-day seems only too probable; the last thirty +years of the nineteenth, and the first thirty years +of the twentieth century have carried us far towards +thorough-going religious and artistic chaos. But +we cannot redeem that chaos by returning to an +order and discipline of the mind which fitted the +more limited intellectual and spiritual interests of +yesterday, as so many of our academic critics would +have us do. To revive humanism or scholasticism +is useful, and to be commended as a valuable antidote +to nineteenth century utilitarianism and naturalism; +but all the scholasticism and humanism in +the world cannot bring back the thirteenth century +as it was, nor restore us to the fifteenth. We have +<span class="pagenum" id="p_7">[7]</span>to pick our way through the twentieth century degeneration +of values and chaos with but this consideration +to console us: that it was precisely when the +values of the ancient world, in Greece, Rome and +Judea, were at their most degraded and chaotic +that Christianity was born. Certainly we no longer +look forward to a repetition of that particular +event; but the event towards which the world is at +present tending may be at least of equal significance +to man as the dawn of Christianity. Let us +for the moment keep an open mind on the matter.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, what we have to do is to read history +with a fresh understanding of its symbolic import. +To do this we need only concentrate attention on +the values above-mentioned; the values of art and +religion. We are best able in them to study the +great cultures of the world in their symbolic relation +to each other. We see in them how each culture +has its own special symbol or set of symbols, +that differentiates it from the whole. This science +of comparative and symbolical history will inevitably +lead us to the present day as the natural +terminus of our investigation. Our object in studying +history will become largely the task of sifting +out the values of the past from the rubbish with +which the present day has overlaid them. We will +see that the past contains in essence the present, +that the present merely repeats or transforms the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_8">[8]</span>past, and that where it fails to do so, it fails through +a lack of understanding of permanent human values. +By studying the essence of the past, we do our +utmost towards redeeming the failures of the present, +and directing the forces of the future. We +may even some day become masters of the future, +if we set ourselves resolutely to learn the fate of +those forces that have been found hostile, in past +ages, to the movement of life.</p> + + +<h4 id="2"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>About no word of the historian’s vocabulary has +there been so much argument and so little agreement +as about the word “civilization.” There are +those who, with Spengler, would take it to denote +the final stage of every great culture; a stage of +which the chief features are overcrowding in great +cosmopolitan cities, decline of agriculture, predominance +of finance, prevailing economic crises, +and the rule of dictatorships and mobs; a rapid +decline of the fine-arts into sterile repetition of +worn-out patterns and formulas; religion as a mere +question of conventional state worship, not as a +creative popular force; an increasing search for +banal pleasures and barren distractions; a growing +economic distress caused by pressure from below. +Others, even more radical than Spengler, would +<span class="pagenum" id="p_9">[9]</span>qualify civilization as a disease, and postulate a +return to savagery as its only possible cure. But +even savagery, as we know, is not without formal +culture; and civilization, if we are to use the word +at all, is a development of formal culture. Perhaps +the best definition of civilization is that of Gobineau; +“a state of relative stability, in which multitudes +bind themselves to seek peacefully the satisfaction +of their needs, and refine their intelligence +and their morals.” The crucial point of this definition +is to be found in the word “stability.” This +stability is achieved by the general adoption of one +system of religion, of one style of art and architecture, +of one system of rule. Its nature is expressed +alike in great public monuments, in details of +domestic life, and in the preservation of written +records and calendar-measurements. It is above +all, a <i>state</i>; fluctuating according to economic conditions, +invasions from without, expansions or contractions +of effort, fresh racial intermixtures. And +as such, its past manifestations display many of the +leading characteristics of its recent manifestations +which appear in every newspaper to-day.</p> + +<p>There is no doubt for example that ancient +Babylonia and Egypt are, in comparison with such +culture as their neighbours possessed, to be ranked +as civilizations of a high order. Both achieved the +state of stability that Gobineau postulates. And +<span class="pagenum" id="p_10">[10]</span>this state had as a basis in each case, a common geographical +and racial element. Both were, above +all, river cultures lying in close proximity to great +desert wastes. Into the Nile valley, as into the +flood region of the Euphrates and the Tigris, came +an alien migration of Semitic culture. This Semitic +element, strongly monotheistic in tendency, +worked as an influence towards the final fusion of +the local and tribal cults of the indigenous peoples +into a common mythological and ethical structure +which persisted for many centuries. But in each +case the result was entirely different. In Ancient +Egypt, the Semitic influence, which was exerted in +successive waves of invasion from a period perhaps +antedating history down to the Hyksos kings, +found a very highly mixed congeries of races: in +part dolmen-building pacific Berbers, in part +lightly-skinned and more warlike Lybians, the +whole more or less overlaying totemistic negro +tribal confederations. The result was a civilization +of monumental power and splendour, the remains +of which had to wait for the dawn of the nineteenth +century before being investigated, and whose renewed +influence on the world at large now stands +at a maximum. The leading characteristics of this +civilization were, first, the universal belief in personal +immortality, leading to a special cult of the +tomb; second, the combined cult of the sun-disk +<span class="pagenum" id="p_11">[11]</span>and of vegetation, expressed in the two great official +religions of Amen-ra and Osiris; third, the division +of the country into forty districts or nomes, +corresponding probably to ancient tribal divisions, +and the sway exerted over each of these divisions +by some entirely local god, usually of animal form, +representing the vestigial cult of some totemistic +deity. The greatness of Egypt rested therefore +on the fusion of two religious ideas of a high order +that sprung from without; the cult of the suffering +vegetation-god, with its belief in immortality, +Aryan in essence and mystical in expression, symbolised +in the trinity of Osiris, Isis and Horus; and +the sun-cult, highly rationalistic and warlike, Semitic +in essence, symbolised in the disk and boat of +Amen-ra. Both of these rested upon, without disturbing, +a foundation of primitive African totemism.</p> + +<p>The development of the Babylonian belief +sprang from an entirely different source. Here +the Semitic invaders found an already rooted population +probably of Mongolian stock, highly cultivated, +and the comparison of the resultant Babylonian-Assyrian +culture with the Egyptian is the +comparison of that which is primarily Asiatic with +that which is primarily European. There is a +close parallel between the Babylonian ziggurat +with its receding terraces and the great Asiatic +<span class="pagenum" id="p_12">[12]</span>terraced shrines, of which the Altar of Heaven in +Pekin is the latest example; there is even closer +parallel between the belief in elemental spirits, +devas, and demons of the Babylonians and the same +thing in the Chinese, Thibetans, and Japanese. +There the austere and not specifically creative +imagination of the Semite worked again as a precipitant, +fusing the original non-tribal, non-totemistic +diversity of cult into a pantheon of fixed superior +powers. The oldest gods, Ea, the fish-shaped +god of the waters, Anu, the god of the sky, Enlil +(Bel of Nippur), god of the Earth, were left undisturbed; +but their cult became less important than +that of the later group, each of whom became associated +with a planet. Sin, the moon-god, Shamash, +the sun-god, Marduk, the conquering war-god +of Babylon itself, who became associated with the +planet Jupiter, Nebo, the god of divination, associated +with Mercury, and Ishtar, the goddess of +fertility, associated with the morning and evening +star of Venus, were the chief divinities of developed +Babylonian-Assyrian worship. Each of +these represents some supernatural magical force +of the heavens, rather than of the earth. The Babylonian +faith paid little attention to personal immortality, +much to obedience to law and custom. +Its chief religious documents are magic incantations, +moral precepts, epic tales of the creation +<span class="pagenum" id="p_13">[13]</span>and the destruction of the world. Shamanism, the +cultivation of the magic powers whereby the priesthood +strove to become one with the unseen and invisible +world of spiritual influences, was universal +in Babylon, and practically unknown in Egypt, +where its place was taken by totemism. Thus one +may say that the Babylonian faith was super-rational, +the Egyptian a sub-rational one.</p> + +<p>These differences are no less climatic than racial. +The plain of Mesopotamia, backed by the barren +and terrible desert ranges of Persia and Armenia, +lies at the mercy of the elements. Even the floods +of the Euphrates and Tigris, that bring down the +disintegrated loess from those mountains, and +make thereby the rich soil of Mesopotamia, are +uncontrollable torrents, which successive races have +vainly tried to stem by constructing great irrigation +and canal systems to obviate disaster. The +climate itself is one of sudden sharp changes: torrential +rains followed by intense heat, icy winds +succeeding torrid blasts from the Persian Gulf. +Under such conditions, the type of worship developed +would be naturally that of the elements, +regarded as superior powers: the “host of heaven” +of the ancient Chaldees whose imagination so +powerfully influenced the Old Testament. On the +other hand, in Egypt the climate is uniform, the +only outward change being the three months of +<span class="pagenum" id="p_14">[14]</span>flood followed by nine months of dry weather. +Rain is practically unknown, and the surrounding +deserts are for the most part adequate defence +against invasion. The only danger is in reality internal; +the danger of physical slackness and enervation +brought about by interbreeding in a hot subtropical +climate. The importation of fresh blood +from without thus becomes from time to time a +necessity to the Egyptian, as it is a danger of the +first order to the Babylonian. During the course +of ancient history from the first dynasty to the +twenty-second, the Egyptians present the spectacle +(except for the period of Amenophis IV) of a +political and religious uniformity; in Babylonia the +religious basis alone was uniform; politically the +country was subject to violent and disruptive +changes.</p> + + +<h4>3</h4> + +<p>To an intelligent European coming to maturity +on the threshold of the sixteenth century, the world +must have seemed in a state of crisis and unrest +comparable only to that which it had already gone +through when the power of ancient Rome in the +fifth century broke before the combined assaults +of the barbarians. We, looking back on that age +from the standpoint of our equally perplexing +modern problems, regard that time as the culmination +<span class="pagenum" id="p_15">[15]</span>of the Renaissance; but to those who lived in it +(if we except a few classical humanists and scholars) +it must have appeared as if the end of the +world, expected for many centuries, was at last at +hand. The Middle Ages had passed away, with +none of their hopes realised, or aims achieved. Not +only had Christianity failed in wresting the Holy +Sepulchre from the hands of the infidel, but the +infidel himself, in the person of the Turk, had succeeded +in overthrowing the last shadowy power of +the Eastern Roman Empire, had made himself +master of Constantinople, and was now threatening +Europe. The trade route with the East that +had upheld the glory of Genoa and Venice was cut +off by Turkish galleys; the boundaries of Europe +stopped at the littoral of the Mediterranean and the +Adriatic. The old dream of the Middle Ages, which +Dante had been the last to express, of a unified +Holy Roman Empire, sanctified by the blessing of +the Vicar of Christ, to take the place of the warring +nationalities which the ancient Pagan Empire had +left behind as wrecks in its wake, had now at last +completely disappeared. France had become a +powerful nationality, so powerful as to be able to +invade Italy and dictate terms to the Church. The +German Empire, always at war with its great +feudal electors, was practically bankrupt. England, +practical, hard-headed and inclined to +<span class="pagenum" id="p_16">[16]</span>heresy, had but recently settled a long feud between +the rival houses of York and Lancaster, and was +rapidly reviving in power under the sway of the +shrewd Tudors. The only power that was not +either indifferent or hostile to the claims of the +mediæval faith was that of Spain, and that lay behind +the barrier of the Pyrenees, and was further +isolated by having to struggle with its own domestic +Moorish problem.</p> + +<p>Moreover, along with the dream of the Holy +Roman Empire, the opposite dream of making the +Pope himself the universal ruler of Europe, had +utterly vanished. The ambitious nobles of Italy +were engaged in buying and selling the most exalted +of all Christian offices, with the avowed aim +of making themselves masters over the peninsula. +At the present moment, the Borgia family, by +means of wholesale bribery, violence, and outrage +had seized upon the sacred office. One unyielding +Dominican, Savonarola, had condemned them to +the utmost from the very centre of Florence, but +he had been silenced. Everywhere the attitude of +mind that had been fundamental to the Middle +Ages, that this world was but an anteroom and +preparation for something far more important, +eternal bliss or eternal damnation, was fading +away. God had given the world to men; it was for +them to enjoy it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_17">[17]</span></p> + +<p>Meantime, an enormous rift was about to appear +on the face of European Christianity itself. The +whole structure of the Christian faith whose foundations, +soaked in the blood of martyrs, lay underneath +the debris of the Roman Empire itself, and +whose mighty walls had been guided upward by +the great monastic effort of the ninth, tenth, and +eleventh centuries; this whole structure which had +burst forth into springing magnificence of vaults +and pinnacles under the great popular Gothic +awakening of the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth +centuries, now displayed a tiny rift at the +summit. Within fifty years from the coming of +the sixteenth century, everything lay in ruin. In +the north the altars were stripped, the monasteries +despoiled or destroyed, the vernacular psalms and +the Bible took the place of the liturgy. In the +south, the basilica of St. Peter, the most sacred +shrine of mediæval Christianity itself, fell, to be replaced +by a pompous shrine dedicated to the temporal +splendour of that papacy that could no longer +command obedience over half of Europe. The +sombre prophecies of the Apocalypse seemed about +to be fulfilled. The “abomination of desolation” +stood in the holy place; or rather, there was no +more a holy place that was not already become an +abomination of desolation. Thanks to the invention +of printing, the wary ambition of pushful +<span class="pagenum" id="p_18">[18]</span>princes, and the steady uprise of the merchant-classes +to positions of rank and power, Mammon +was gaining more adherents every day in his long +battle with God. Savonarola had already called in +question the authority of the Pope, an example +which innumerable Protestants were soon to follow.</p> + +<p>Into this tortured, desperate, final scene of the +mediæval world, in which the power that had +directed the Middle Ages, the power of mystic, +legendary Christianity was seeking fanatically for +destruction in the embrace of death, while a newer +more terrible Mars and Venus uprose from the +past to dispute about the new-born Renaissance, +there suddenly came the rumour of two tiny and +inconspicuous events somewhere in the unknown +territory that lay beyond the boundaries of men’s +maps and minds. Three ships guided by an obscure +Genoese pilot and a shrewd Spanish navigator, had +gone out into the Atlantic to look for an island +called Antillia which was rumored to exist somewhere +westward of the Canaries; two of them had +returned, having apparently not discovered this +island, but with the knowledge of having sailed far +beyond, stumbling apparently upon the further +Indies, which no one had seen or heard of since +Marco Polo had been there far back in the thirteenth +century. And twenty years earlier, in 1472, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_19">[19]</span>an embassy from Ivan III, the quasi-independent +ruler of a territory called Muscovy which lay somewhere +beyond the forests and swamps of Poland, +and about which nobody knew anything except that +it was presumably of the Greek Orthodox faith, but +had paid tribute to Tartar infidels for untold +centuries, suddenly turned up in Rome and demanded +the hand of Zoë, niece of the last Christian +ruler of Constantinople, from the Pope, who had +taken her under his protection. At this time the +council of Florence was sitting, debating whether +the Eastern and the Western Churches could not +be re-united in view of the fact that the Turk had +taken Constantinople and was threatening Europe +itself. It was naïvely supposed that to marry Zoë +to this Eastern schismatic would further this object. +So Zoë was sent on her long journey to Moscow, +with a Latin prelate, Cardinal Antonio, for a +guide, to discuss the question of the re-union of the +Churches. In the upshot, Zoë married Ivan, but +there was no re-union, and Cardinal Antonio returned +to Italy in discomfiture. From these two insignificant +events—both, be it noted, engineered +and pushed forward by Italians—we chart the +entire course of what is known as modern world-history.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_20">[20]</span></p> + + +<h4 id="4"> + 4 +</h4> + +<p>The difference between ancient, mediæval, and +modern history is only a difference of degree, not +of kind. Human beings, and what is still more, +human experiences, have been essentially the same +in all ages; and it is not the least of our romantic +errors of adolescence to think of the Greeks or the +Elizabethans as beings belonging to an entirely +different species from the men we every day see +about us. The differences between one type of man +and another are everywhere differences in spiritual +perception; and this has been always a question of +a few exceptionally favoured individuals as against +a commonplace and indistinguishable mob. It +must be admitted, however, that Christianity did +much to heighten the spiritual perception even of +the multitude; historically Christianity enlarged +the bonds of the spiritual by taking in more of the +actual. Before Christianity, the gods were terrible +powers to be placated, and human life had no relation +to their life. The gift Christianity gave to the +world was a dim and vague, but vast, notion that +the roots of the physical and the spiritual lay +closely together, insofar as God had already become +Man for man’s sake. This perception, that +perfection lay in and through Christ, culminated +<span class="pagenum" id="p_21">[21]</span>in the great spiritual climax of the Christian drama, +the thirteenth century. After that period there +was rapid and sure decline. There was not again +to be the birth of another saviour through a Virgin, +nor did the figure that the cathedrals had dimly +foreseen as standing before their altars, the figure +of the king-bishop, tiaraed with the three crowns of +earth, purgatory, and heaven, and belted with the +sword of justice, take shape in actual flesh. Instead +of the bells and incense that were to usher in +the Holy Grail procession, there arose the charnel-vault +order of corruption, and the clank of bones +beneath the armour of the knight; instead of the +bridal song of the Lamb and the Church, Gothic +arches resounded with the mocking psalmody of +the <i>Dies Irae</i> and the Dance of Death. Slowly but +with irresistible power, men turned away from the +Uprisen Judge that they had fancied would again +come to judge the World; and in Italy, parent of +civilizations, the Popes themselves began with the +aid of Mars and Venus to dream of refounding +Rome. In the jewelled crucifix that hung about +the neck of Alexander VI was set an antique +cameo, representing a nude Venus. Thus the old +gods returned, not to be worshipped as material, +but as spiritual powers. A few men here and there +babbled strange news of new-found Indies, and +<span class="pagenum" id="p_22">[22]</span>remote Muscovy. These were perhaps the terrestrial +paradise; the new heaven and earth proclaimed +by the Evangelist.</p> + +<p>If we turn from the scene of the sixteenth century +to the middle of the eighteenth, we find that +the entire structure of Christian Europe is changed. +The rift that was to shatter the whole work of the +Middle Ages has developed, leaving Europe half +Catholic, half Protestant. In each case, a full century +of fanaticism has burned through, leaving +rationalistic aches, tolerant scepticisms, polite lip-service +to formula, or naked barbarism and desperation. +The power of Ancient Rome has not been +reborn in the person of the Pope; he may be pontifex, +but not beyond the states of the Church itself. +The true ruler of European mankind is now a periwigged, +middle-aged Pallas, who has set aside her +shield and helmet and is busy attempting chemical +experiments, doing the grand tour, building +baroque churches, and writing fugues and chamber-music. +Meanwhile beyond the borders of Europe +are barbarians with other gods: to the East the incalculable +force of great Muscovy, sated with the +blood of Sweden and Poland; to the West, the +equally incalculable wilderness of the American +Continent swallowing up hosts of migrating English, +French and Spaniards. In them men will inevitably +find again the spiritual symbols transformed +<span class="pagenum" id="p_23">[23]</span>and enlarged, whose ancient manifestations +still sleep underground in the valley of the Nile +and the Tigris. In them will re-awaken to rule +over the earth the spiritual flame of Egypt and +Assyria.</p> + +<p>Thus at the outset of our enterprise, to attach to +our side all those who are willing to use their imaginations +in the study of man, and to frighten away +those who have no imagination and no need to use +it for anything, we inevitably set a myth to take +the place of human history. And indeed, could we +in any case do better? What are the Greeks to us +to-day but the myths of Prometheus, of the warfare +between the Olympians and the Titans, of the +Argonauts, and the fatal struggle around Troy? +All the meaning of Hellas—perhaps the whole +course of Hellenic history—is contained in these +stories. What are the Romans but the story of +the Sabine Women, of the geese of the Capitol, of +the death of Regulus, of Horatius at the bridge? +What is India but the great chaotic conflict between +gods and men set out in the Ramayana? +History is not alone the parroting of meaningless +dates and facts, a mere branch of ethnology or +economics, or the study of picturesque and powerful +personalities. When all these are assimilated +and done with, history emerges as a series of symbols +each infused with profound spiritual meaning. +<span class="pagenum" id="p_24">[24]</span>It is through myth alone that man finds guidance +in his weary march through the vale of despair +and the heights of glory. Some day someone will +write the great myth of our modern world: the +story of man striving to tame the machine he has +invented: some day there may even be recorded the +myth of the entire planet we inhabit. Let it, like +the myth we are about to spin, find rest at last +in the archives of some superhuman and undying +memory.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_25">[25]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_II"> + Chapter II + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>The influence of geographical situation and +of climate on human culture is a subject so +vast and profound that only the combined industry +and genius of a Humboldt or an Elie Reclus could +possibly ever exhaust it. And even a perception of +the fact that man everywhere responds to his environment, +reflects his environment, adapts himself +to and, in the end, identifies himself completely +with his environment, does not account for all the +profound racial differences between man and man. +Setting these differences apart, we may nevertheless +say that all human cultures derive from five +recognizable types: river culture, largely pacific +and agricultural; desert culture, largely nomadic +and warlike; mountain culture, largely fluctuating +between mysticism and realism, alternately conservative +and adventurous; tropical-swamp culture, +largely theocratic, conservative and defensive; and +marine culture, largely democratic, inventive and +adaptable. The best example of the first class is +ancient China; of the second, the Persians or the +Arabs; of the third, the Greeks, Etruscans and +<span class="pagenum" id="p_26">[26]</span>early Romans; of the fourth, the Hindus, Cambodians, +Aztecs and Mayas; of the fifth the Cretans, +Phœnicians and English.</p> + +<p>A glance at the map will show that the nature +of the North American continent, as of Russia, was +such as to insure that any culture either country +achieved was destined to be largely of the river +type. The central portion of the United States +is occupied by the immense river system of the Mississippi +and its tributaries. This system flows +through immense plains, and its lower reaches are +consequently subject to frequent and damaging +floods, forming an immense delta of two hundred +and fifty miles of intensely fertile black soil. To +eastward the region of the Appalachians and of the +Blue Ridge is heavily forested and of much poorer +soil, but beyond these again, in the Atlantic seaboard, +is a series of rivers, running generally southward +and eastward, with good harbours at their +mouths, and generally highly fertile in their lower +reaches, though less subject to floods. The interior +of the country, it is true, was not settled until after +the winning of independence at the close of the +eighteenth century; but the whole political development +of the Colonies was an advance towards the +type of government that was most suitable to the +environment later found and assimilated in the +Ohio, Tennessee, Mississippi, and Missouri regions: +<span class="pagenum" id="p_27">[27]</span>a preponderantly agricultural community, intensely +suspicious of outside interference, deeply +rooted in family sentiment and respect for the soil, +narrowly conservative in outlook and largely ruled +by primitive moral precept. Westward of the +Mississippi stretches the open prairie region tending +to break down this life into the more undeveloped +forms of pure nomadism.</p> + +<p>The purest example of such a culture is, as has +already been pointed out, the civilization of China. +If we examine the moral and religious basis of +ancient Chinese life, we find that everything is +made to centre about the perpetuation of family +life, and the maintenance of the fertility of the soil. +All outward forms, from the ritual spring ploughing +that the Emperor himself performed annually +at the Temple of Agriculture in Pekin, to the precepts +of Confucius, derive from the one prevailing +desire to ensure an unchanging round of harvests +with the least disturbance of outward conditions. +Such a people is not predominantly warlike, and is +better for defence than for conquest. They are +better qualified to display the firm qualities, great +endurance, immense solidarity, and a uniformity +of style, than the feats of daring and mental adaptability +displayed by mountain and marine peoples. +In contrast with desert or tropical-swamp peoples, +their mythology is undeveloped, their religious ardour +<span class="pagenum" id="p_28">[28]</span>halts at the frontiers of an ethical positivism.</p> + +<p>In contrast with the map of North America, the +map of Russia shows even more clearly the characteristics +of a featureless forest, an unmarked plain. +Yet a glance at this map will show that here too, +the development of culture has depended on the +existence of great river systems. The Volga with +its tributaries, the Oka, the Dnieper, the Western +Dvina all have their headwaters within a few miles +of each other, and all radiate from a common centre, +where the black soil belt of central Russia, intensely +favourable to agriculture, meets the forest belt of +the north. The position of these rivers, and the +direction in which they flowed, fixed inevitably the +centre of the Ancient Russian commonwealth. +The Volga and the Oka communicate with the Caspian; +the Dnieper and its eastward neighbour, the +Don, with the Black Sea; the Dvina, and its tributaries, +the Lovat and the Volckov, flow into the +Baltic. In the early Middle Ages this became +naturally the great trade route between Persia and +the Eastern Roman Empire, and the Hansa settlements, +as well as the Scandinavian peoples. Its +Scandinavian Viking origin is shown by the Varangian +establishment of Kiev as the capital, back +in the ninth century, with Novgorod and Smolensk +as outlying centres; unfortunately the political +unity that the converted Viking invaders were able +<span class="pagenum" id="p_29">[29]</span>to impose upon the timid, conservative, and heathen +Slavonic masses, was dependent upon their ability +to wage incessant war upon swarms of barbarians +from farther east. From the Pechenegs in 862, +down to the Polovtsy in 1238, the ancient Russian +culture lay at the mercy of perpetual Tartar invasion +from the desert plains of Central Asia: Kiev +finally fell in 1238, and the insignificant independent +principality of Moscow more northward only +survived by its comparative difficulty of access and +by the payment of a great tribute to the Tartar +Khans. The first ruler of Muscovy who began to +win out in the long struggle with the Tartars, a +struggle which left the Russian people profoundly +modified ethnologically in the direction of a Mongolian +type, was precisely Ivan III, whom we have +already seen sending to Rome to obtain the hand +of the niece of the last Eastern Emperor; with his +reign we begin Modern Russia which profoundly +differs from, though it is the resultant of the physical +and racial forces that shaped mediæval Russia. +Here too we have a settled agricultural people, +clinging to great river systems, apprehensive of foreign +invasion, intensely conservative, strongly patriarchal, +and primitively religious. The chief difference +between these people and the first Anglo-Saxon +settlers of America was psychological. In +the case of the American colonies, social and political +<span class="pagenum" id="p_30">[30]</span>unity depended on each individual’s attitude +to his neighbour; in the case of Russia, threatened +on all sides with invasion, it depended on the purely +military and arbitrary power exercised by a personal +sovereign, the prince of Moscow.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_1"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>The English-speaking colonies of America are +generally supposed to have asserted their complete +independence in 1776 and to have won it in 1783, +when the fact is that they were completely independent +almost from the beginning. In theory and +in theory only, they were begun as an extension of +royal property to the new-found continent. The +Tudor sovereigns were as highly imbued with the +idea of the divine right of kings as any other European +sovereign of the time; their ideas on this subject +were not different from the ideas of their +enemy, Philip II of Spain. It will be remembered +that the Spanish had pushed forward their +conquests and settlements on the principle that the +money raised to undertake them should be provided +by the adventurers themselves; except in the case +of Columbus, the crown itself was not financially +interested in the exploits of the conquistadores of +Mexico or Peru. But once the country was won, +one-fifth of the revenue had to go to the crown. +<span class="pagenum" id="p_31">[31]</span>The Tudor plan was not very different. King +James merely granted permission to explore and +settle to the Virginia Company, which itself raised +the funds; how much of the profits of the enterprise +would return to him was left open. The +profit was expected to accrue from the discovery of +gold mines, or the exploration of a new trade route +to the East Indies.</p> + +<p>The experience of the Virginia Company is particularly +interesting in this connection. After five +years of struggle and the expenditure of a great +deal of money, it was found that the country contained +nothing of value as regards mines, and could +only be a source of revenue if developed agriculturally. +Thereupon in 1612, King James gave way +and permitted each settler henceforward to take +out an assignment of land. The result was that +the Virginia Company henceforward would at last +be able to assimilate profits, not on the basis of +prospective mineral discovery, but on the basis of +exchange of commodities between the old world +and the new. But in order to keep the colony prosperous, +it was necessary to put its government in +the hands of those who best understood and were +able to cope with the novel conditions. Therefore +some measure of self-government was permitted. +Apart from the royal governor and six councillors +appointed by the Company, a popular assembly +<span class="pagenum" id="p_32">[32]</span>was called together composed of two representatives +elected by each town, hundred, or plantation. +Laws passed by this assembly could be vetoed in +England; but such a veto on the part of the King +would lead to the passive but unalterable resistance +which is well known to all students of early agricultural +communities. For a few years after 1612, +King James did not dare to interfere, and the Virginia +Company prospered by raising tobacco. +Then, thanks to the whispers of sedition within the +colony that were carried to his ears, as well as the +protests of the Spanish Ambassador, who became +more and more annoyed at the English establishing +themselves in nominally Spanish territory, James +decided to interfere. In 1624 he dissolved the Virginia +Company, and the colony again became crown +property. But he died the next year, without interfering +with the popular assembly, which continued +under his successor. Had this popular assembly +not existed, Virginia would have probably +become de-populated. The same type of popular +assembly was formed by the other colonies, after +the example of Virginia, and the history of the thirteen +colonies up to the time of the Revolution is a +story of the struggles between the colonists themselves +and their royal governors; a struggle which +culminated only with complete independence.</p> + +<p>The American colonies were not able to live and +<span class="pagenum" id="p_33">[33]</span>grow at all without this local self-government on +the democratic model, to build roads, put up meeting-houses, +make schools, fight the Indians, and +impose tariffs and taxes on their own products. It +will be remembered that in 1623, just before attempting +to crush the Virginia Company altogether, +King James had been persuaded, after a +long struggle with popular opinion, to grant a +monopoly on all tobacco brought to England to the +Virginia settlers. This monopoly, long agitated +for, and supported by the whole force of the powerful +popular faction in the Virginia Company itself, +which had already sunk some two hundred +thousand pounds in the development of the new +country, led to extravagant hopes on the part of +the London merchants who had supported the Virginia +enterprise from the beginning, of obtaining +a great return from their investment. The corresponding +downfall of the company, and the reassertion +of royal authority, worked as a rapid +cause of disillusionment with the power of the +crown, and largely contributed to the popular revolution +against the Stuarts which broke out in 1640.</p> + +<p>The New England colonies, even more than Virginia, +began as settlements which had obtained +nothing but a tacit permission to leave the country +from the English crown. Massachusetts, the first +of them, owed its being to the activities of certain +<span class="pagenum" id="p_34">[34]</span>English separatists, who finding no religious liberty +in England itself, first went to Holland, and +after six years, finally decided to cross the ocean to +a spot where they would be entirely free from +outside interference. To these Plymouth settlers, +there were added in 1630 a great body of Puritans +who nominally were members of the Church of +England but in reality in complete revolt against +Archbishop Laud, whose avowed aim was the destruction +of the Low-Church party. The refusal +of these numerically preponderant settlers to admit +anyone to citizenship except members of their own +particular communion led to the settlement, by the +dissenting elements, of Rhode Island, and to the +establishment of Connecticut, neither of which had +any support from the English Crown and both of +which were rooted in popular government. Meantime +between these and the colonies of Virginia and +Maryland (which again had been formed by religious +refugees on a basis of tolerance) to the +south, stood New Amsterdam, which the Dutch had +organised on the old feudal system of making each +great landholder responsible for the life and death +of his tenants. The Dutch experiment was a painful +failure and became assimilated into the other +English settlements after 1664.</p> + +<p>Thus, the development of the American seaboard +colonies under English auspices led to the creation +<span class="pagenum" id="p_35">[35]</span>of a number of practically independent republics, +differing widely in their views as to the relation between +politics and religion, owning a nominal sovereignty +to the English Crown, but in reality highly +suspicious and intolerant of outside interference, +determined to support themselves with as little help +from others as possible and altogether transforming +themselves from being mere frontier trading posts +to self-supporting but rival commonwealths. They +were separated from each other by the fact that +they had been originally planted near the mouths +of navigable bays and rivers: the Chesapeake, the +Delaware, the Hudson, the Charles. The intervening +territory was still the no-man’s land of the +Indian. The fact that the Indian had to be pushed +off the land before it could be settled, and the fact +that the Indian always resisted, gave the American +colonies their only solidarity. This is shown by the +New England Confederation of 1643 which came +into being as a result of the Pequot War, and the +general fear of a league of Indians to drive out the +whites. It comprised the settlements of Massachusetts, +Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven.</p> + +<p>The conditions in the interior were such as to +make it certain that only the English idea of gradually +pushing the Indians westward by means of a +fringe of settlements could in any way prevail. +The Spaniards in the south and southwest had deliberately +<span class="pagenum" id="p_36">[36]</span>come into the country only in order to +exploit it; their interest was solely in finding El +Dorado, and only a few devoted missionaries among +them took any interest in the conditions of the Indian +tribes, or tried to promote agricultural settlement. +The fact that the Spanish cared nothing for +anything but ostentation and conquest gave a superficial +veneer of European civilization to their +chief centres of settlement, but left the wilderness +practically untouched between them. In fact, the +Spanish attitude of complete exploitation helped +in the long run the Indian cause, because the Spanish +conquerors did not scruple to mingle their blood +with that of the Indian captives with the result that +a mixed race soon uprose, largely Indian in outlook, +and ferociously independent, which was destined +later to give endless trouble to the Spaniards +themselves as to the people of the United States. +And as the white race pushed westward, and the +evidences of mineral wealth increased, while the +prospective returns from agriculture correspondingly +diminished, something of the Spanish attitude +was naturally assimilated by the Anglo-Saxon +pioneer stock, with the result that the Spanish +philosophy of reckless daring and lazy indifference +became the basis of the cowboy and “bad man” +type of the far West. The French had scarcely +done better; except for a few settlements of fisherfolk +<span class="pagenum" id="p_37">[37]</span>in Canada, they had contented themselves with +building a chain of trading posts about the Great +Lakes and the chief tributaries of the Mississippi, +and had become a breed of trappers and fur-traders. +They too had no race prejudice against intermingling +their blood with the Indians. Thus, the +idea of the English invaders to conquer by means +of complete settlement and assimilation of the land +to the forms of English culture was inevitably the +only path by which the land could become permanently +what is known in America as “a white +man’s country”; but even in their case, as it happened, +something of the Indian outlook and social +system inevitably entered and modified the English +colonial forms of life. This was due to religious +as well as economic differences. The middle-class, +mercantile, dissenting fanaticism of New England +instinctively despised the planter aristocracy, +strongly episcopalian and conservative, of Virginia +and the Carolinas; the planter aristocracy equally +hated the pioneer squatter type that developed in +the valleys beyond the Blue Ridge; and this division +of sentiment between the various sections of the +community was destined to run like a discordant +thread throughout the warp and woof of all later +American life. It corresponded roughly to the +long-standing tribal antagonisms of the dispossessed +Indian tribes. Nor was this all. The investigations +<span class="pagenum" id="p_38">[38]</span>of American anthropologists have conclusively +shown that the children of European immigrants, +born in America, tend to take Indian +characteristics, a taller stature and a more powerful +physical development than their parents. Most +notably is this the case in the change of head form. +The Indian head with its high cheek-bones, heavy +jaw, sloping forehead, and great development of +the back and base of the skull, recurs, according to +Professor Franz Boas, even in the children of immigrants +who have only lived for a few months in +America. So great is the influence of climate, and +perhaps also of diet, upon the naturally conservative, +slow-changing Anglo-Saxon. Moreover in the +settling of America, the Celtic side of the English +genius strongly manifested itself; and a considerable +portion of the population, in the Southern +colonies at least, were Celtic in type and in sympathy. +The Germanic tradition of the town-meeting +and the local assembly was curiously crossed +with the Scots-Irish tradition of the family feud +and the local uprising.</p> + +<p>We have now to compare this growth of the +American settlements with the growth of the Egyptian +social system, as set out in our first chapter. +In the loose confederation of the geographically +separate colonies, we have a parallel to the division +of the Egyptian territory into separate nomes, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_39">[39]</span>under the sway of different tribes. In the rivalry +between Upper and Lower Egypt, we have a +rivalry akin to the rivalry between the Northern +and the Southern colonies. In the shrewd practical +pragmatic realism of the American frontiersmen, +we have something that recalls the lack of space-feeling, +the pastoral and agricultural conventions +that inform Egyptian art. Even in the respect +that the American colonies were to show for the +royal charter, the legal document, the written word, +we have much that recalls to mind the superstitious +respect with which all the Egyptians regarded +their hieroglyphic writing. Only a Pharaoh is +needed to complete the picture, but the American +colonies could not produce a Pharaoh, nor a priestly +cult to support him; because instead of the single +valley of the Nile, they were pushing up twenty +great rivers; instead of a single dominant religion, +they had a dozen different ones to choose from.</p> + + +<h4 id="3"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>As we have already seen, Ivan III, who became +the independent ruler of Moscow in 1462, and in +1472 married Zoë (who later took the name of +Sophia), the niece of the last Christian ruler of +Constantinople, was the first sovereign of Russia +whose power became so important as to make some +<span class="pagenum" id="p_40">[40]</span>impression on the course of Western European +History. He was the first to take the title of Sovereign +of All Russia, and Czar, and his reign lasting +down to 1505 is the record of his struggle to +make that title good. In order to do so, he first +had to deal with the Golden Horde of the heathen +Tartars, encamped for three centuries on the lower +Volga; but this power, which had continually kept +Russia in subjection, was now breaking up of itself, +thanks to internal dissensions about succession with +the Tartars of the Crimea. Ivan’s chief enemies +lay in fact to the westward, in the great military +and feudal powers of Poland and Lithuania.</p> + +<p>These two powers had acted largely together +ever since 1386. In each case the country was +ruled by an independent sovereign, supported by +great feudal nobles. These nobles, whether as +bishops, barons whose castles commanded the trade-routes, +landowners commanding the loyalty of +hundreds of serfs, were one and all jealous of any +independent action on the part of the king. And +inasmuch as the sovereign in each country depended +entirely on their support in the case of war, and +the Tartar menace no less affected the security of +Lithuania and of Poland than that of Russia, the +stability of both countries depended on the continued +loyalty and bravery, and the lack of inner +causes of friction, among the gentry themselves. +This gentry, the <i>szlachta</i>, was world-famous for its +<span class="pagenum" id="p_41">[41]</span>pride and fighting spirit. During the centuries +that followed the downfall of the old principality +of Kiev in 1226, the Lithuanian knights, backed by +Poland, had absorbed the richest and most fertile +portion of Russia, the plain of the Dnieper, including +Smolensk and Kiev itself. To the north lay +two independent mercantile commonwealths, important +centres of trade between the Urals to eastward, +and the Hansa towns of the Baltic to westward: +Novgorod and Pskov. These were ruled by +their own town councils of nobles, or boyars; they +were more disposed to be friendly to Poland or +Lithuania than to Moscow. Against them no less +than these two usurping powers, Ivan III and his +successor Basil III who died in 1533, had to make +war, in order to recover that which he regarded as +his lost patrimony: Russia itself.</p> + +<p>The process that these princes inaugurated was +completed by the accession to the throne of Ivan +III’s grandson in 1533, the most extraordinary and +tragic of all Russian rulers, known to later history +as Ivan the Terrible. During his long reign of +forty-nine years the whole system of complete autocratic +government, resting ultimately on the will +of the Czar alone, that ruled Russia outwardly and +inwardly down to the advent of the Bolsheviks to +power in 1917, came into existence. When he came +to the throne, his predecessors had already won +back the Dnieper territory as far as Smolensk from +<span class="pagenum" id="p_42">[42]</span>Lithuania, but this was not enough. If the principality +of Moscow, which now stretched from the +Black Sea to the shores of the Gulf of Finland, and +to the Urals, was to develop into a power capable +of imposing its will on Europe, it must have access +to the Baltic. The mineral wealth of the Urals, +the sturgeon from the lower Volga, the furs and +hides of the forest belt, were in as great demand +now by Sweden and the Hansa Confederacy as the +ancient products of Constantinople and the Levant +that had penetrated through the same territory in +the Middle Ages had been. Unfortunately the outlet +to the Baltic lay through Livonia which was +Polish territory; and Poland and the Hansa +knights, their allies, were not disposed to let the +Moscow Czars have sole control over this trade +route. Under Ivan IV, the attention of Muscovy +turned from Lithuania to Poland, and later to +Sweden, which held Esthonia, the other outlet to +the Baltic, and a struggle ensued which went on +till 1582, ending in a complete check to the ambitions +of the Moscow rulers. The outlet to the +Baltic Sea and accordingly to a position where +Russia could treat with the powers of Europe, as +an independent equal, was not to be granted for +a full century. Meantime, during this same reign, +the Crimean Tartars who had succeeded the Golden +Horde, and who had been friendly enough to support +Ivan IV’s predecessor in his Lithuanian wars, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_43">[43]</span>became again hostile and turned to close alliance +with the dreaded Turks who had effectively closed +the Black Sea outlet. As late as 1574, Moscow +itself was raided and burned by a force of 120,000, +who took away over a hundred thousand captives. +Although the Muscovy Czars now controlled the +whole resources of the country from the frontier of +Siberia to the Polish plain, they were powerless +until by establishing sea-contact with Europe, they +could obtain in exchange for their fish, furs and +minerals, weapons, munitions, and an army on the +European model to combat their enemies to the +south and east.</p> + +<p>This necessity for finding an outlet to the sea +controlled all of Russia’s later historical policy, as +the necessity of warding off interference from overseas +controlled the whole policy of the dawning +American colonies. The necessity in each case was +dictated by geographical situation, no less than by +sociological conditions. A glance at the map will +show that Russia is, strictly speaking, a country +without a coastline, whose three outlets to the +Ocean, through the Baltic, the Black Sea, and the +White Sea, lie always at the mercy either of hostile +powers or of the elements. On the other hand, +America lies completely open on the Atlantic seaboard. +There is entry through a score of open +rivers and bays, and the ocean-path being the way +by which settlement was made and maintained, it is +<span class="pagenum" id="p_44">[44]</span>easy to see how much the colonists (who were in +continual conflict with the English crown over their +scarcely won and jealously guarded liberties) +longed to be able to close the way of access behind +them; or only keep it open for those who would +agree with their semi-agricultural, semi-nomad +spirit of independence. But if we turn from this +picture to the map of Russia, it is equally easy to +see how, if the whole power of Muscovy was not to +fall apart, and the country to revert to being in +part a conquest of hostile Poland, in part a mere +nomad dependency of Tartary, it was necessary +to keep a sea-route open for the marketing of Muscovy’s +products, and also necessary to enlist all the +European aid possible in improving the general +backwardness of the country. So as early as 1547 +we find Ivan the Terrible sending the Saxon +Schlitte as emissary to Europe to obtain artisans +and scholars; many of the churches of Moscow itself +were the work of Italian architects; and the +history of Ivan’s later negotiations with England +for a commercial treaty (which as he said “weighed +heavier on him than tribute”) and even for a bride, +in the person of one of Elizabeth’s maids of honour, +is well known. In order to maintain an insecure +position between the two dangers of the Tartar +Caspian and the Teutonic Baltic, the autocratic +ruler of Muscovy had to call in the aid of Western +Europe—and with it, the subversive radicalism that +<span class="pagenum" id="p_45">[45]</span>Western Europe was to later develop. In order +to maintain their own insecure position between the +danger of an Indian Confederation to westward, +and the danger of Crown interference from overseas, +the independently spirited colonists had to +sink their own radical differences of outlook and +religion and become artificially centralised about +the most powerful classes in the community which +were the merchants and landowners. Thus the +two countries, so much akin in climate and physical +features, and even in the highly mixed nomad population +that inhabited them—not to mention the perhaps +common Mongolian parentage of the underlying +Tartar and Indian—early took the path of +polar opposition in temperament. The one became +more and more autocratic and despotic as the other +became more and more democratic and egalitarian. +In the one, the outlying districts were always +swayed by a centralised power; but as this power +depended on military conquest, loot and tribute for +its maintenance, it was in continual danger of collapse. +In the other, the separate colonies formed +a loose confederation that would be likely to collapse +of itself from without if it could not find a +centre.</p> + +<p>Here in this opposition of social organisation we +find what in Russia chiefly recalls Ancient Babylonia. +Older than Egypt—for recent archæological +researches into the Sumerian civilisation have +<span class="pagenum" id="p_46">[46]</span>left no doubt on that point—Babylonia was at first +ruled by independent city-dynasties, as was Russia +during the Varangian period. It only achieved +unity under the dominance of a single city, which +geographically stood at its centre, and whose local +god-cult was made, probably under military pressure, +the official state religion. Here we have a +parallel to the position of Moscow and to the development +of the official Russian church under +Ivan the Terrible. This unity could only be maintained +so long as the central sovereign was a man +of powerful and strong personality: a Hammurabi +or a Sargon. This condition also obtained in Russia, +as anyone can see by consulting the next chapter +of this book. The only thing in short lacking to +this parallel is that Babylonia-Assyria achieved +its own symbolic mythology, a symbolic mythology +of great importance to the development of the Hebrews, +and consequently of Christianity; while +early Muscovy, and the later Russian Empire, only +borrowed the essential basis of theirs from the +already formulated system of Eastern Christianity. +But this failure of the central intelligence of the +Slav to distinguish independently the immediate +needs of his own temporal destiny from the limitless +drift of eternity, is characteristic; its psychological +implications run like a red thread throughout +the entire course of later Russian history.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_47">[47]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_III"> + Chapter III + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>The English-speaking American colonies developed +in comparative peace and tranquillity, +except for Indian wars on the frontier, internal religious +quarrels, and difficulties with their own harvests +down to the close of the Puritan Revolution +in England and the accession of Charles II in +1660. During the whole reign of Charles I, and +later under Cromwell, the internal difficulties of +the English State were so great, that no further +attempts were made to interfere with the gradual +growth of the colonies, or to check the spread of +self-government. During the same period, Russia +passed through its first and most terrible internal +crisis; a crisis always to be known later as “the time +of troubles,” and which was destined to fix immutably +the political foundations of the country as an +independent state.</p> + +<p>The aim of Ivan the Terrible was, as we have +seen, to throw off the grip that Poland and Sweden +held on the Baltic; and to destroy the power of +Lithuania, which still, in alliance with a band of +freebooters, the Zaporogian Cossacks, held fast to +<span class="pagenum" id="p_48">[48]</span>the outlets of the Dnieper in the Black Sea. There +was also danger from the Tartars of the Crimea, +which must be reckoned with. Russia was therefore +committed to war on three of four sides; only +on the side of Siberia could Moscow’s sway be carried +peacefully beyond the Urals. Ivan, as we +have seen, was checked in his ambitions to free the +shores of the Baltic, though he won notable victories +in the Crimea, opening up the Caspian, and +overrunning a great deal of Siberia. But his chief +troubles were internal, and sprang from the feudal +organization which had hitherto supported the +Princes of Muscovy on their thrones.</p> + +<p>The chief powers, next to the Czar himself, were +the great landowning nobles, the boyars. It was +this class alone that could vote taxes, support campaigns +with their serfs, send their sons to take part +in the state service. It was this class that now +began to behave as the corresponding class had +done centuries before them in Western Europe. +They more and more attempted to put a check upon +the power that was falling into Ivan’s hands. The +Czar of Muscovy had, unfortunately, no middle +class or merchant class to fall back upon, and so +was forced either to trust the boyars or no one. +The example of Poland was always before Ivan’s +eyes. That warlike and once powerful kingdom +was continually sinking into anarchy and impotence, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_49">[49]</span>thanks to the greed and independence of its +gentry. After every reign there had followed an +interregnum, and the kingship was so shorn of +power that it practically had none left except that +of punishing criminals, and making war. Several +of Ivan’s leading nobles, suspicious of his growing +autocracy, were now tempted into leaning towards +Poland; and many of the former independent +cities, notably Novgorod, were going in the same +way. The fruits of freedom were becoming tempting +to the Russians now that they had lost them. +In this situation Ivan struck, and struck hard with +such effect that his reign was ever after remembered +as a time of terror. He established a secret +police, chosen and paid by him personally, who were +sworn to support the Czar at the cost of their lives, +and by this means, systematically destroyed all the +boyars who showed signs of independence. Tortures, +murders, spyings, assassinations were the +order of the day. Even the Metropolitan of the +Orthodox Church, venerated in Russia as no man, +protested against the régime of terror that Ivan set +up, but paid for his protest with his life.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, Ivan’s system proved workable +only so long as there was a strong and ruthlessly +determined man at the head of affairs to control it. +As he left no successor, the leading boyars at his +death decided to offer the control of affairs to one +<span class="pagenum" id="p_50">[50]</span>of their number, Boris Godunov. Boris was undoubtedly +as suspicious of their power as Ivan had +been, but utterly unable to do without it, and so the +country rapidly fell into a condition of internal revolt +directed and engineered from Poland. During +the period of utter anarchy that followed, Poland +might have acquired complete control over Russian +affairs, had it not been for internal jealousies +among the boyars themselves, and for the attitude +of the Orthodox Church, which obscurely sensed +and supported the popular demand for a Russian +Czar, born in Russia. After Polish forces had +vainly besieged the Kremlin itself, after Swedish +troops had been called in to restore order, after the +country had been overrun by looting bands of Don +Cossacks from one end to the other, in 1613 there +came at last peace. The boyars sank their differences +sufficiently to elect Michael Romanov to the +throne, and the influence of Poland, always hated +and loathed by the Russians, came to an end.</p> + +<p>During these years, and increasingly under the +first years of the new Romanov dynasty, the chief +social phenomenon in Russia was the growth of +serfdom. Serfdom had always existed, undisturbed +from the Middle Ages, on the estates of the great +landowners. These estates were continually increasing, +as Ivan himself followed the policy of +making enormous grants of crown land and peasants +<span class="pagenum" id="p_51">[51]</span>to the gentry he favoured. But as the country +expanded and pushed its way over the Urals to +Siberia, and into the Crimea to the Caspian, it +became common for serfs to seek relief from intolerable +conditions and burdens by escaping eastwards +into freedom. This process became chronic +throughout “the time of troubles.” Instead of +fighting for some of the numberless pretenders of +the time, or waiting to be ravaged by the Cossacks, +the serfs simply abandoned their estates and went +off to the frontier. Every Czar during “the time +of troubles” attempted to deal with this problem. +Strong decrees forbade the transfer of serfs from +any of the estates of the Church, the Crown, or the +Service gentry. Still stronger decrees made flight +a criminal offence to be punished by lashing and +branding; at first five years were given as a time-limit +during which runaways could be hunted out, +then ten, finally in 1646 the time-limit was abolished, +and any fugitive became an outlaw. Meantime +the practice of selling peasants apart from the +estate, simply went on despite the law against it, +and had finally to be legalised in 1675. The peasant +had no power of redress, being forbidden to +bring any complaint against his master except that +of state treason; the master could beat him, starve +him, force him to work like a dog for the state taxes, +which were continually increasing, and he must still +<span class="pagenum" id="p_52">[52]</span>submit. The process was not the same as slavery, +but was clearly even more cruel in its effects than +slavery. A bad crop, an epidemic, or an outbreak +of trouble among the rebellious Cossacks of the +Southeast frontier was enough to literally ruin +thousands of peasants. And since the peasant +could not fly without becoming an outlaw, the subsequent +history of Russia down to the nineteenth +century is punctuated with constant and perpetual +serf rebellions and peasant risings.</p> + +<p>The Russian government system of degrading +its own independent peasantry down to the level +of chattel slaves, was closely paralleled by the +gradual growth of a dependent slave class within +the nominally free American colonies. Negro +slaves were brought into the Virginia Colony as +early as 1619. Without their aid it is probable +that the great tobacco plantations could not have +been run at a profit. But the rapid extension of +territory which tobacco-planting entailed led to the +first outbreak of revolutionary class war in America +in 1676. The occasion was an outbreak of +trouble with the Indians on the northern frontier, +which by that time had reached the Potomac. A +rising of the Susquehannahs led to a demand on +the part of the colonists for an armed force to +destroy the Indians. The Governor, Berkeley, refused +and proposed to build forts. But the colonists +<span class="pagenum" id="p_53">[53]</span>under Nathaniel Bacon simply refused to +obey; and this struggle soon became a conflict between +the old conservative and royalist landowning +gentry and the newly arrived poorer settlers of the +frontier. It was quelled; but over-production of tobacco +in the years that followed led to much burning +of tobacco, and a gradual transformation of +Virginia, the most English in spirit of all the +colonies, into a revolutionary democracy. In the +Carolinas, where rice and cotton became the chief +crops, negro slavery flourished better; and with +the spread of American territory into the Mississippi +Valley, it became rooted as an institution, +despite the fact that, theoretically, it was in conflict +with the spirit of the people.</p> + +<p>The New England colonies on their part did not +need any urging to become thoroughly rebellious to +England’s authority. Charles II on his return +to the throne in 1660 had already concluded to +make them more amenable to the common usages +of England. These usages comprised a respect for +the established church, which had never been recognized +in Massachusetts, and toleration for the +Quakers (whom Charles personally favoured) who +had been repeatedly fined, whipped, and made to +suffer banishment at the hands of the sectaries +of Boston. In 1676 Charles’ agent, Randolph, +recommended that the Massachusetts charter be declared +<span class="pagenum" id="p_54">[54]</span>forfeit. This was done in 1684, and all the +New England charters followed suit. Charles +died before he could show the full scope of his intentions, +but under James II, the whole of the New +England region, including Massachusetts, New +Hampshire, Maine, Plymouth, Rhode Island, and +Connecticut fell under the sway of a single governor, +who was to rule without an assembly, with the +aid of a council. A meeting house in Boston was +to be set apart for the Church of England. The +governor whom James appointed, Andros, met +with opposition from the outset. The people refused +to pay the taxes which their own old assemblies +had voted, now that they were demanded by +Andros acting alone. Rebellion was rampant +throughout New England and in New York, where +Andros governed through a deputy, Francis +Nicholson. The rebellion came to a head when +in November 1688 the government of James II fell +in England itself, and was succeeded by that of +William of Orange, in which the Parliament and +the Whig party of the middle class finally +triumphed over the old loyal aristocracy. From +that time on, the American colonies were resolutely +bent on self-government, and in New England and +Virginia at least, on pushing back the Indians, and +gaining control of the interior, in which the French +were now hoping to build up a great overseas +<span class="pagenum" id="p_55">[55]</span>empire. Between them lay the recently founded +colony of Pennsylvania which alone, through the +Quakers, took up a pacific attitude towards England. +Southwards there was more loyalty in the +newly-founded Carolinas; but there was also a +semi-feudal agrarian society that, sooner or later, +would challenge the North.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_2"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>We have now come to the year 1688, which marks +a turning point in American Colonial History, with +the advent of the Whig oligarchy founded by the +mercantile class, and supported by William III +and the new House of Orange. In the same year, +or a little later, Peter the Great who had been +nominally ruler of Russia since 1682, finally got +the power in his hands, by crushing the Streltsy and +exiling the Regent. Henceforth the two countries +were to run their course of development side by side.</p> + +<p>It may be that the kind of reader whose mind +is absorbed in statistics, will here object: “There is +really no parallel between a few insignificant English-speaking +colonies, planted on the far side of the +Atlantic, and consisting in 1690 of only two hundred +thousand souls, with a frontier running only +fifty miles away from the seaboard, and the older, +more populous, if largely unformed realm of +<span class="pagenum" id="p_56">[56]</span>Muscovy.” But history teaches that the mere size +of a country has nothing whatever to do with its importance +in the story of human development. If +size and power to wage war were the sole criterion +of importance, the Roman Empire might logically +be considered as having given more to humanity at +large than the whole of Ancient Greece and Judea. +We know that this is not so. Ancient Greece and +Judea were each in their way more spiritually important +than Rome for the original ideas that they +gave to the common stock; and already in America, +as in Russia, an original idea was at work, which +was profoundly to influence Europe. It is as creators +of new values that these two countries should +be studied and understood by the historian; not as +economic, geographic, and political entities. If we +consider them purely under the latter heading, they +have been of somewhat less importance to Europe +and the world at large, than the South American +Republics.</p> + +<p>The years that had passed in Russia since 1613, +when the Romanov line first came to power, up to +Peter’s full accession in 1689, were important +chiefly as witnessing a fresh consolidation of power +about the representatives of this new dynasty. +Poland, which had been the chief enemy, pursued its +path of disintegration into its component atoms, +under the feudal system still in vogue. It was +<span class="pagenum" id="p_57">[57]</span>nominally ruled by an assembly of its gentry, which +had the power of electing the King. Unfortunately +the decisions of this national assembly had +to be unanimous. In case the national assembly +disagreed with any one of the delegates from the innumerable +local assemblies, the delegate in question +could interpose a free veto on any decision taken. +The minority had also the right of combining for +the sake of resistance against the majority, with +the result that the whole country was continually +racked by threats of civil war. Poland in short had +carried the principle of feudal rights out to their +logical end in a complete states’ rights government. +It was in the same unhappy position as the American +colonies themselves, in regard to its own central +government, but unlike the American colonies, it +had no body of independent merchants to fall back +upon as a rallying point in its internal struggle. It +consisted of nothing but the great landed proprietors +who had become separate military establishments, +intensely jealous of each other, and the +peasants, who were in a worse condition even than +the Russian peasants, inasmuch as their masters +had full control of their labour, could parade them +for extra work, could force them to buy their necessaries +from them, refused their rights to make contracts, +fixed their wages, and had over them the +absolute power of life and death. All export trade +<span class="pagenum" id="p_58">[58]</span>was in the hands of the gentry and all rights of sitting +in the local and national assemblies. The only +exceptions were the despised Jews who had become +the money-lending class, and were equally hated of +noblemen and peasants.</p> + +<p>Against decaying Poland, Russia had step by +step built up a great empire. But the Empire was +worthless to her, unless she could obtain foreign +tools and arms, trade and an outlet to the sea. +Under the Romanovs the first great efforts were +made to acquire these essentials. Arms were imported, +first from Sweden, later from Germany. A +whole colony of Saxons, Dutchmen, and other foreign +artisans were brought to Moscow and established +in the so-called German Suburb. In 1647 +a western system of drill was introduced and foreign +instructors were brought in to train Russian +regiments. Articles of western luxury made their +appearance: clocks, velvets, stone houses to replace +wooden huts, schools, and theatres which gave plays +in foreign languages. But transport was still difficult, +bad, and toilsome, much in the same condition +as it was and remained on the American continent +up to the advent of the Industrial Revolution in +1840. The only difference was that the American +colonies lay far apart, settled in river valleys running +down to the coast, and separated by great +stretches of uninhabited country, whereas in Russia, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_59">[59]</span>Moscow was still at the centre of affairs. The +result was that in America’s case, each colony lived +largely on its own specific products. Cotton and +rice came from the Carolinas, tobacco from Maryland +and Virginia, iron from Pennsylvania and +New Jersey, furs from New York, fish and pine +timber from New England. Trade abroad was +more important than trade at home. In Russia the +whole volume of trade—Siberian minerals and furs, +Volga grain, Baltic pine, Persian carpets,—rolled +and ebbed through the single heart of Moscow and +its outlying city-states, bound together not by roads +but by rivers.</p> + +<p>In neither country was there anything resembling +a system of education, or any independent development +towards general culture. In this respect +indeed the American colonies for all their inferiority +in numbers and scale, were ahead of the Russians. +The Old Church Slavonic, which was for +conversational or writing purposes totally dead, was +still used for all Church services. The ecclesiastics +were almost the only learned class, and the attempts +of the Romanovs to reform the Church books +merely led to the violent schism of the “old believers” +who came to hold Peter himself as the Antichrist. +The educated classes aimed to speak German +or French, and despised their own language. +Schools there were none, and most education was +<span class="pagenum" id="p_60">[60]</span>to be sought abroad. In the American Colonies, +on the other hand, the desire for native education +manifested itself early. Harvard College was incorporated +as early as 1650; in Virginia, William +and Mary followed in 1693; Yale in 1701. True, +this education in the colonies had for the most part +been inaugurated for the sole purpose of training +candidates for the ministry, and had a strongly +Puritan and theological tinge; but most Americans +at least acquired an ability to speak and write good +English, and some smattering of Latin.</p> + +<p>Meantime, in both countries, the throes of establishment +were safely over, and the first great expansion +of effort rapidly followed. The expansion +was an expansion of land surface and population in +America; the latter increasing from two hundred +thousand in 1690 to one and a half millions in 1760. +In Russia it was an immense expansion of power, +reacting on everyone from the Czar to the humblest +serf. Peter himself was, after Ivan the Terrible, the +first great military leader the Russians discovered, +and he made good at last the claim to the Baltic, +and therefore to the open sea, against the country +that was now, under the successors of Gustavus +Adolphus, mistress of that ocean: Sweden. Meantime, +in America, the colonies were not allowed to +settle back into complete enjoyment of their local +liberties, won and ratified by King William’s Government. +<span class="pagenum" id="p_61">[61]</span>During the next sixty years (1690-1750) +they were to take part in no less than four +wars, each waged against the power that had succeeded +in penetrating further than any other into +the true heart of the American continent: France.</p> + +<p>From the time that Champlain in 1603 had come +into the St. Lawrence Valley and had established +Quebec as a trading post controlling the furs of +this region, down to the settlement of the mouth of +the Mississippi in 1718, and the later establishment +of St. Louis and Natchez as trading posts controlling +the traffic of the great interior valley, the +French had been by far the most active power in +the exploring of the interior of the American continent. +In contrast with the English who had clung +conservatively to the seaboard, they had boldly +penetrated the very heart of the country; in contrast +with the Spanish who had cared for nothing +but the evidences of mineral wealth, and had ruthlessly +warred upon and decimated the Indians, the +French had attempted to live on terms of friendship +with the native tribes, and had sought for the +basis of their sway in the great wealth of fish, furs, +and game the country possessed. The St. Lawrence, +the Great Lakes, the Mississippi had each in +turn felt the impress of the French effort, and had +there been any fever of colonization to back the +hardihood of the French explorers, traders, and +<span class="pagenum" id="p_62">[62]</span>Jesuit missionaries, it is possible that to-day the +French language, rather than the English tongue, +might be the common speech over most of the +United States. Unfortunately there was little disposition +on the part of the French people to +migrate to the new world. A mere meagre handful, +some three thousand in all, including the fisheries +of Nova Scotia, held the whole of Canada in +1660; in 1750 about six thousand persons inhabited +the whole Louisiana territory. The French could +not be induced to come and settle in the newly discovered +territory; their own local instincts of traditional +loyalty to their provinces, and their own internal +stability, which have made of France the +most economically self-contained country in +Europe, forbade. But the mere existence of +French trading posts throughout the St. Lawrence +and Great Lake territory, the vague but shadowy +grip that France had established upon the whole +hinterland of the American continent, frightened +King William and his ministers, and coincided with +their determination to break the contemporaneous +claim of France to leadership in Europe itself. +There resulted the wars called King William’s +War, 1690-1697, Queen Anne’s War, 1701-1713, +King George’s War, 1745-1748, and the great +French and Indian War which beginning in 1753 +ended with the complete annihilation of all of +<span class="pagenum" id="p_63">[63]</span>France’s dreams of foreign empire in the Treaty +of Paris of February 1763.</p> + +<p>The outcome of all these struggles was to leave +the English masters of the American continent +from the Gulf of Mexico to Labrador and westward +to the Mississippi, including in their domain +the chain of the Great Lakes and the St. Lawrence +basin. France retired from the American +continent, leaving Spain—who had vainly allied +herself with her in order to stop the English from +invading Florida,—to keep a shadowy tenure on +the western bank of the Mississippi. During the +last phases of this conflict, the first great series of +wars, except for Indian campaigns, waged on the +American continent, Pennsylvania which had +hitherto been pacific under the Quaker ascendancy, +ranked itself alongside of the other colonies in the +effort to break the French grip upon the headwaters +of the Ohio. This was accomplished thanks +largely to the persistence of one man, Benjamin +Franklin. Meantime, Virginia had shown that in +a young officer of militia, George Washington, it +possessed a notable Indian fighter. Each colony in +turn had raised a local militia to carry on the +struggle to its triumphant success. Thus England +had at last, through the alliance with the newly-born +kingdom of Prussia, triumphed over France, +destroyed her fleet, and succeeded in shaking off +<span class="pagenum" id="p_64">[64]</span>her hold on India as well as America. But in order +to do this England had created something that was +to be of the utmost danger to her as time went on. +She had created American solidarity. Exactly as +Peter the Great by his personal effort, created Russian +solidarity.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_1"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>The subsequent history of both countries moves +along the lines we have already been tracing. Peter +the Great’s most important achievement was not so +much his successful wars against Sweden and Turkey, +nor his establishment, as “a window looking on +Europe,” of a new capital on the shores of the Baltic, +but the creation of a new state-bureaucracy to +take the place of the dominance of the old nobility, +a state-bureaucracy bound by self-interest to support +his system, and which completed its task by assimilating +the old Orthodox Russian Church +(which had hitherto been independent, under its +own Patriarch) into the state-machine, under the +direct control of a Procurator of the Holy Synod. +By this act, Peter destroyed the last possibility of +a moral opposition to his rule, and fixed the system +of autocracy beyond possibility of change as the +only political form possible to Russia, subject +solely to the chance that his successors might not +possess the same force of character that he had displayed. +<span class="pagenum" id="p_65">[65]</span>Peter, in short, assimilated European +statecraft, only to become more powerful than +Europe. Meanwhile the American colonies, separated +completely from each other by large tracts +of waste country, and still more separated by differences +of soil, religion, and social organization, +found a rallying point in the feeling that the great +western territory west of the Appalachians was to +be theirs, and were, at the same time, provided by +England with a force not only to conquer it but to +assert their own independence, in the shape of a +local militia. This force removed the last hope that +England could hold the country by a display of +military power, inasmuch as in New England, +where the administrative centre was the township, +the militia could be turned out at a moment’s +notice. Henceforth the South, whose administrative +unit was the county, dropped back in the race +for the supreme headship of the American continent. +England, by creating a New England, had +sown the seeds of her own downfall.</p> + +<p>During the years that followed, while the great +Virginia planters were living on enormous feudal +estates, worked by small armies of slaves, and disregarding +or despising the fringe of poorer squatters +and settlers that to westward were already +pushing across the Appalachians, the New England +merchants and backwoodsmen were engaged +<span class="pagenum" id="p_66">[66]</span>in a struggle with England that went on for years +before exploding in an outbreak of open revolution. +The first phase of the struggle was over the +Navigation Acts, whereby England after 1650 had +striven to control the growing trade with the Colonies. +By the most severe of these Acts nothing +could be shipped in or out of the Colonies except by +English or Colonial vessels, and the Colonies themselves +were forbidden to trade with any other power +except England. This prohibition did not affect +the Southern planter aristocracy, inasmuch as they +had no manufactures, and no shipping, and sent +out their agricultural products mainly and regularly +in English vessels to England, obtaining +therefrom, even in Washington’s day, their clothes, +tools, and equipment. But the New England colonies, +unagricultural and mercantile, opposed the +Navigation Acts, necessarily. They had already become +shipbuilding powers, and regularly exported +enormous quantities of dried fish to Spain, Portugal, +the West Indies, obtaining in return quantities +of Spanish-grown cane sugar to be turned into New +England rum, which again was exchanged for +slaves in Africa, tea in China, silks and spices in the +East. New England was growing into a competitive +shipping and mercantile power alongside of +England, so the Navigation Acts were continually +being evaded in the Northern Colonies. The +<span class="pagenum" id="p_67">[67]</span>second phase of colonial opposition arose over taxation, +notably over the taxation of tea which particularly +affected the Northern Colonies. The +story of the Boston Tea Party is too well known +for me to have to refer to it. The last phase arose +over the general bureaucratic meddling with the +affairs of the colonies, expressed in the Stamp Act. +In all these underground struggles, the New England +Colonies took the lead, with the Southerners +a bad second, and it is from this date that we must +look to the New Englanders with their completely +commercial morality, their Yankee cunning, and +their fanatic dissenting Puritanism, as most expressive +of the direction in which America was travelling.</p> + +<p>Thus while the drift of American sentiment +gradually coalesced and hardened against England, +more and more strayed from the ordered control +of the Virginia planter aristocracy to the radical experimentalism +of the New England merchant +group, the drift of Russian sentiment was hardening +in favour of Peter’s foreign-modelled civil service +and military establishment. In both cases a +radical and arbitrary minority was beginning to +control the sluggish and conservative majority. +Underground, in South Russia particularly, +smouldered the popular feeling against the innovations +of Peter and his successors. It could do nothing +<span class="pagenum" id="p_68">[68]</span>because it lacked the weapons wherewith to +fight. Peter had taken good care to keep the army +loyal to him. But during Peter’s reign it burst out +in the revolt of the Old Believers; and in Catherine +the Great’s period, which covered the years when +the American Colonies made their successful stand +against England, it exploded on the south-east +Volga frontier among the Cossacks, in the open +class-war rebellion of Pugachev. Both Russia and +America came into power by building up systems +of government that rested upon a profound inner +dualism. The dualism in America came from a +struggle between the aristocratic, agrarian, and conservative +South, and the democratic, mercantile, and +independently-minded North and East. In Russia +it sprang from the opposition between the brilliant +and sceptical state-machine, pursuing its warlike +ambitions even further into Europe, and the inert, +superstitious mass of the peasantry, particularly of +the lower Volga region, which was groaning under +the weight of taxes necessary to keep the state-service +going, and unable—thanks to serfdom—to +retaliate except by open rebellion.</p> + +<p>We have already pointed out that there exists a +parallel between Egypt and Babylonia, in Russia +and America. Here again that parallel must be +alluded to. As in Babylonia, the state-religion was +at the outset composed of a series of regional cults, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_69">[69]</span>only welded later by military force into the universal +worship of the central Babylonian sun-and-war-god +Marduk, so in Russia the force of dissenting regional +sentiment contended against the deliberate +state-policy of making the Czar central autocrat +of all the Russias and sole head of the Church. +As in Egypt, the religious struggle was between +the sun-god, Ra of the North, whose symbol was a +golden disk, and the vegetation-god, Osiris of the +South, whose symbol was the tree of life, so in +America there was always tension between the agricultural +South and the industrial, gold-worshipping +North. Russia could only keep going so long as the +Czar was victorious; America could only keep +going so long as the two divergent sections of its +people fused into one. Unless we keep these differences +in mind we cannot understand either country. +And it is only by meditating upon them that we can +fully understand all the world-transformations that +were historically to come into being from the creation +of Russia and the United States.</p> + +<p>The process that we have been following culminated +in Catherine the Great and in Washington. +These two historical and contemporary figures not +only represent immense landmarks in human history, +but are symbolical for long into the future, +up to the threshold even of our own day, of the +power that is Russia, and is America. In studying +<span class="pagenum" id="p_70">[70]</span>them as completely representative of the inner development +we have been following, we become witnesses +of a phenomenon not common to human history; +the rise of two cultures side by side. This had +happened before in antiquity in the parallel growth +of the Babylonian-Assyrian and the Egyptian +civilisations, which were, like Russia and America +in later times, river countries, and which were +divided by the land-bridge of Palestine and the +Arab peninsula from each other. The later powers, +Russia and America, faced each other across the +whole world, and where Russia depended upon +Europe for intellectual leadership, arms and appliances, +America depended on Europe for physical +support, and eventually for political independence +itself. Nowhere is this more clear than in the +period we have now to study; the period of Catherine +in Russia, of Washington in America. +Where Catherine interested herself at the outset +of her reign in Voltaire and Rousseau, wrote plays +herself in the French vein, was a brilliant leader of +theoretical intellectualism, many-sided and fascinating +at the outset, and ended as an ageing +tyrant; Washington, the typical American of his +time, was a plain, blunt, country squire, intensely +practical, not particularly brilliant, with but one +idea in his mind, the free expansion of the colonies +westward, who, despite himself, was dragged into +<span class="pagenum" id="p_71">[71]</span>the current of Rousseauism and Voltairism practised +by such spirits as Paine and Jefferson, and +ended as a retired moderate and a private citizen. +No more startling divergence could be found between +countries so similar geographically and +climatically. There is something even more interesting, +psychologically and symbolically, in the fact +that Catherine the Great was a woman who had +begun as a needy adventuress without a drop of +Russian blood in her veins, while Washington was +a man who began as a wealthy landowner of the +most conservative and long-rooted Virginian aristocracy. +In both cases, the situation found the one +figure that could control it. In order to conquer +Europe, Russia had to find someone relentlessly +efficient, utterly unsentimental, theoretically advanced, +but so profoundly imbued with the desire +to increase personal prestige as to be unwilling to +bate a jot of power; this was Catherine. In order +to prevent the separation from Europe from becoming +a mere revulsion to anarchic chaos, America +had to find someone broad-mindedly tolerant, aristocratically +reserved, practical in outlook, so steady +of purpose as never to be swayed by any personal +misfortune. This was Washington. Catherine’s +reign (1762-1796) led to the final destruction of +Poland, brilliant military victories over Turkey, +terrible peasant misery at home, and the establishment +<span class="pagenum" id="p_72">[72]</span>of Russia as the greatest military power +threatening the whole of Europe; Washington’s +period of ascendency as General and President +(1776-1797) led to complete independence from +England, immense expansion westwards, an ever-widening +rift between the agricultural South and +the commercial North, and the final establishment +of America as a power completely isolated, and +determined to seek no further “world-entanglements,” +but to create its own political destiny.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_73">[73]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_IV"> + Chapter IV + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>Up to a short time before America was discovered, +and Russia emerged on the stage of +the world’s affairs under Ivan the Great, Europe +had been a social, moral, and spiritual unity. This +unity, despised and blackened by the apostles of +enlightenment in the eighteenth century, under the +title of “the feudal system,” had been developing +from the fourteenth century onwards in the wrong +direction of nationalist monarchy, instead of in the +only right one of such a popularly grounded, elective +feudalism as we find foreshadowed in the writings +of Plato, More, or Campanella. At its highest +and best, it had not succeeded in preventing +such purely political wars as the dynastic struggle +of the later Plantagenets with France, or the heroic +struggle of the Holy Roman Empire with the +papacy, or the civil struggle between the burghers +of the free towns and the feudal overlords; but it +must also be remembered on the credit side of the +balance, that it had also promoted the largely idealistic +effort of the Crusaders, the unified social and +moral enlightenment of monasticism, and had +<span class="pagenum" id="p_74">[74]</span>created as well a great common language of art, +rooted in popular symbolism, a common faith unified +in outward observance, and, in its great revival +of Latin, a common speech whereby scholars from +all parts of Europe might easily understand each +other.</p> + +<p>These are compensation enough, in such minds +as realize their complete lack of such rallying points +to-day, for the failure of those days to achieve telephones +or modern sanitation. The same order of +thought that had re-established centres of culture +and philosophy after the complete breakdown of +the old Roman order in the eighth century, continued +its effort almost unimpaired up to the close +of the fifteenth. We still in a measure to-day partake +of as many of its fruits as the failure of discipline, +represented by the revival of nationalistic +warring powers in the fourteenth, the revival of +new learning in the fifteenth, and the Protestant +and counter-Catholic reformations of the sixteenth, +have left to us. At its apex, in the thirteenth century, +life from the North Cape to Palestine, from +Cornwall to the Carpathians, was of one piece +throughout. As the next world was divided into +the realms of heaven, purgatory, and hell, so this +world was divided into its appropriate realms: the +king’s palace, the feudal castle, the cathedral, the +abbey, the market town, the guildhall, the peasant’s +<span class="pagenum" id="p_75">[75]</span>hut. Over all lay the spiritual sway of a unified +ecclesiastic order, the solid power of Catholic Christianity. +Towards the east lay the less intelligent, +less rationally disciplined, more thaumaturgic and +despotically absolute power of the Orthodox Greek +faith, which had been completely separated from +the western faith since the ninth century, and which +revolved about the decaying court of Constantinople. +With the fall of that capital in 1456 and +the consequent driving of a wedge by the Turks +into the heart of Christianity, the rift between the +Eastern and the Western churches had become +chronic, and the Eastern Church had grown more +and more hidebound and static, remote from anything +resembling forward-looking Christianity. A +little before this event, there had come about—thanks +to the failure of the Crusades and the +spirit of growing commercialism—the rise of a +new burgher class and their alliance with the purely +political and dynastic ambitions of a nationalist +monarchy, which took place first in France, and +later in England.</p> + +<p>It is worth noticing that both these countries lay +on the western borders of Europe. In Spain, too, +a nationalist monarchy developed, but it was dependent +on the support of the old feudal nobility +rather than the bourgeoisie, had its own internal +problems to settle in the fact that part of the country +<span class="pagenum" id="p_76">[76]</span>lay in the hands of the Mohammedans, and did +not in any case exert much influence abroad earlier +than the sixteenth century. Italy, unable to find +a single ruler, was rapidly sinking into the gulf of +anarchy through which the torrent of the Renaissance +made its way, to peter out on the shoals of +academicism and realistic sentimentality. But +soon after 1492, the date of Columbus’ discovery +of the New World, the most startling sign that a +new order had come into being in the world was +furnished by Germany. In 1517 in the very heart +of the Holy Roman Empire of legend and heroic +achievement for the Catholic faith, the Augustinian +monk Luther posted his theses to the church door +at Wittenberg. This was three years before Cortez +completed his conquest of Mexico, or Magellan +made the first circumnavigation of the globe. The +subsequent process known as the Reformation, +whether in its early Protestant or later Catholic +manifestation, paid no heed to the great spiritual +unity of the past. It rested entirely on social and +economic factors. Consciously or not, it either supported +or failed to combat the nationalist morality +to which religion was to be subservient, of which +morality we have reaped the latest fruits in the outburst +of unspiritually motivated hatred that accompanied +the Great War. Its chief result was the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_77">[77]</span>complete separation of Northern Teutonic and +Southern Mediterranean Christianity.</p> + +<p>If we could construct a thought map as opposed +to a nationalist map of Europe about the year 1550, +we would find that Europe was no longer in any +sense a unity. Europe then, as since, fell readily +into two halves. The dividing line was never +totally clear, but the northern and western part +of Europe was predominantly Protestant, as the +eastern and southern remained predominantly +Catholic. In the western half of Europe, Spain +was the strongest of Catholic outposts; but Spain +had her last triumph in 1570, the year of Lepanto, +and eighteen years later was to know her first heavy +defeat in the destruction of the Armada. In opposition +to Catholicism were England, the Scandinavian +countries, a considerable portion of France, +notably the south-western half, and practically all +of northern and western Germany. Southern Germany, +like Bavaria, remained Catholic, but Switzerland +again became Protestant. On the other +hand, Italy, Austria, Bohemia, Hungary, Poland, +remained Catholic to the core.</p> + +<p>Thus it came about that America became open—especially +after the defeat of the Spanish Armada—to +colonization from Western and Protestant +European countries, while Russia, despite +<span class="pagenum" id="p_78">[78]</span>Ivan the Terrible’s attempt to find a <i>rapprochement</i> +with England, became open to influence from +Eastern Europe, which was predominantly feudal +and Catholic. The outcome was to make Russia +more and more feudal and autocratic, while America +became more and more <i>bourgeois</i> and Protestant. +After Peter the Great’s time, Russia presented +to Europe the image of an autocracy of a +little more logical and thorough-going stamp than +the autocracy practised in France and Spain; after +King William’s War, America became a democracy +a little more advanced and complete than the +type of successful commercial democracy governing +England.</p> + +<p>Both countries, nevertheless, sought for a common +ideal in the past. Russia, as refounded by +Ivan the Great, proclaimed its kinship with Rome. +It was the “third Rome,” the first being the Rome +of Augustus, the second the Rome of Byzantium. +The mystic idea that the <i>pallium</i> of world-empire +had travelled from Rome to Constantinople and +from Constantinople, in the wake of Ivan the +Great’s bride, the Empress Sophia, to Moscow, +where it was to be firmly established for ever, ruled +Russian State policy from 1490 up to the outbreak +of the Bolshevik revolution in 1917. It invested +the Romanovs and their successors, who were not +even Russian in essence, with semi-divine authority +<span class="pagenum" id="p_79">[79]</span>and mystery. It was perhaps the basis of such a +startling stroke of policy as Catherine the Great’s +offering open asylum to the Jesuits after their banishment +from France and Spain. At the same +time, the thirteen American colonies, newly established, +began playing with the notion that they +too were Rome—but Rome of the republic, Rome +of the Latian league. This idea was markedly +materialistic and rationalistic, as the Russian idea +was markedly mystical and emotional. It grew to +enormous proportions after the Revolution, when +the infant Republic was shaken to its foundations +by the revelations concerning the Society of the +Cincinnati. Thus over the background of Russia +and America, the patterns of different Romes grew +and spread.</p> + +<p>That background was nomadic, centrifugal, +primitive in both cases. In America it was a background +of hunters and fishers, trappers, traders, +and roving Redskins. It was Franco-Spanish, +Spanish-Indian. The type of man that this background +was producing—and continued to produce +after the first Anglo-Saxons crossed the Alleghany +barrier—was the self-assertive, independent, inventive, +resourceful hunter and fighter. The fact that +the country was wilderness, largely forested, with +poor communications and few openings for trade, +added to Spanish adventurousness, Norman-French +<span class="pagenum" id="p_80">[80]</span>daring, and Anglo-Saxon fanaticism a +fresh tang. If people could not agree together +under law on major points of religion or minor +points of social observance, all that was necessary +was to kill off or frighten away a few Indians with +firearms and to live isolated, far apart. In this respect +the North American family soon became a +wandering tribe, liable to the most casual accretions +from without and to the most arbitrary splits and +divisions of sentiment, except in districts early +settled, where the common bonds of a unified +stock and better communications served to hold the +clan together. In the middle and western colonies, +the white colonist soon took on, in his dealings with +his neighbours, and in his disposition to rove about, +the colours of Indian life.</p> + +<p>The Russian too had his background, but the +background was Tartar. It was a life either agricultural +or nomadic, like the American life, but +that which made and kept the country productive +was not the independent desire to make fortunes +and to seek new fields for themselves on the part +of an active population, but a profound acceptance +of inner necessity on the part of an inert one. The +Tartar-Russian temperament was inert, or stung +to sudden action under the pressure of crisis, while +the American temperament was active, sinking to +inertia only under the stimulus of growing prosperity. +<span class="pagenum" id="p_81">[81]</span>What drove the Russians to migrate was +not the sense of a new horizon to be attained, or a +new horizon to be conquered, but the mere desire to +escape from an unchanging round, an inner need +to stand aloof from the village and its elders, the +landowner’s mansion and its barns, the bloodthirsty +Cossack, or the life-sapping tax-gatherer. That +was because from the beginning the Russian family +had not been a family in the American sense, but a +great collection of souls: feudal retainers, house +and farm serfs, and distant tributaries. In Russia, +and more particularly in the steppes of Southern +and Eastern Russia, apart from the trading centres +of the North Russia forest belt, the peasant tended +continually to revert to the colours of pure Tartar +and nomad life.</p> + +<p>Thus we may safely say, without fear of contradiction, +that the European influence, transported +to America, lost its ordered English characteristics, +and became something more akin to Spanish buccaneering +or the loose confederacy of Indian tribes; +while the same influence, exerted on Russia from +her western borders, made that country a Late-Latin +imperium, greatly modified by the spirit of +Tartar nomadry. This remarkable transformation +was due, after all sociological, racial, religious +factors have been weighed and dismissed, primarily +to climatic and geological factors. In neither Russia +<span class="pagenum" id="p_82">[82]</span>nor North America is nature a friendly factor, +nor is it possible there to look on man as an “addition +to nature” nor as the “measure of all things” +in the Greco-Latin sense. Both countries had +climates of exceptional severity, vast stretches of +soil of inferior productiveness, a population thinly +scattered, and lacking, until the later growth of +railways, in means of communication. The most +fertile agricultural region of America, the Mississippi +valley, lay far inland through enormous +forests, at the mercy of floods and malaria, as the +most fertile region of Russia, the Volga basin, lay +on the remote Caspian frontier, at the mercy of +steppe winds, and consequent famine and typhus. +Psychologically, the Russian and the American reacted +differently to this situation. In Russia, the +influx of Tartar blood resulted in making the majority +of the race fatalistic, sensual, lazy, with a +tendency towards a curious mingling of pantheism +and sacramental Christianity. In America, the influx +of Anglo-Saxon Puritanism made the majority +reckless, highstrung, extremely active, with a +tendency towards a mingling of outward practical +sense and inward moral fanaticism.</p> + +<p>From the date when America and Russia appeared +on the horizon, we can trace the steady rise +of European individualism. The revolutionary +impulse of Europe has always been an affair of +<span class="pagenum" id="p_83">[83]</span>outstanding individuals, perhaps of small minorities: +even the French Revolution was ultimately +accomplished by a few outstanding clever politicians, +centering on Paris. The revolutionary impulse, +on the other hand, in both America and in +Russia, has been an affair of mass-movements. +Washington was intellectually merely the ordinary +American landowner of his time; Lenin the ordinary +provincial noble. Such revolutionary upheavals +as Alexander Second’s freeing of the serfs, +or America’s Civil War, came about not through +the agitation of any single body of men, but by a +combination of interests: economic and sentimental. +In Russia, it was necessary for the emancipation +of the serfs to take place, because the system of +Nicholas I, which had relied on foreign conquest to +ensure the prosperity of the country, had broken +down; and the system of serfdom, which had really +only flourished in the black soil belt of South Russia, +was, as Alexander II said, “in danger of abolishing +itself from below.” In America it became +increasingly necessary to limit the field of the slave-holding +class to the Lower Southern States, or the +economic control of the financier and trading class +in the North would be threatened by the irruption +of slave-holders into the rich Western territory +and the consequent creation of an agrarian imperialism. +None of the changes that took place in +<span class="pagenum" id="p_84">[84]</span>American or Russian political life during the nineteenth +century were so arbitrary as the violent +cross-currents that, during the same time, affected +Europe.</p> + +<p>The advance of Russia and America throughout +the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries was not +without its influence in Europe, or rather on the +type of European genius that Europe was to produce. +The rise of the Jesuit order within the +Catholic church and the corresponding and opposed +rise of mystical non-conformist sects such as +swarmed in the latter eighteenth century,—for example, +Wesleyanism and Swedenborgianism—were +its first symptoms in the religious field. The +corresponding decline in architecture into the extravagances +of later baroque, or the frigidities of +academic classicism, or the false romanticism of the +Gothic revival, mark its influx in the field of architecture. +Such individual geniuses as Voltaire or +Kant, Blake or Beethoven, Carlyle or Nietzsche, +Ibsen or Shaw, reveal the same splitting up of +Europe into efficiently Americanised revolutionary +and sceptically Catholicised reactionary as was going +on elsewhere. Henceforth Europe, or European +life, was no longer a unity; and only a unity can +produce great social movements, such as had culminated +in previous centuries in a Dante, a Shakespeare, +an Aquinas, a Bach, a Cervantes, or a +<span class="pagenum" id="p_85">[85]</span>Racine. From the outset of the nineteenth century, +the individual in Europe became more important +than his age. It was only outside the +frontiers of Europe, in Russia or in America, that +the age was to remain more important than the individual.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_3"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>It was through the deliberately exercised will of +a minority that Russia and America became independent; +and this minority consisted in both cases +of people who had been largely Europeanised. +Left to themselves, the Russians would have relapsed +into nomad savagery; their unity was imposed +on them by a long list of ambitious princes, +from Ivan the Great down to Peter the Great, +whose eyes were directed continually towards +Europe. Left to themselves, the true Americans—the +early Spanish, French, and English colonists—might +have conceivably remained as divided +and sparsely scattered settlements surrounded by +a fringe of Indians and wilderness: their contact +with the outer world was kept up by a long list of +Puritan divines and southern aristocrats armed +with muskets, law books, and Bibles, and busily +transplanting into the wilderness the fundamental +contrast between European Whig and Tory. Up +to 1688, the date of the Whig revolution in England +<span class="pagenum" id="p_86">[86]</span>and its reverberation in the Colonies in the +shape of King William’s War, the whole history +of the American colonies was nothing but chaos +and anarchy. The successive squabbles with governors, +the successive acceptance and dismissal of +royal proprietors, the successive guerilla wars with +the Indians, form a complex labyrinth of greed, +intrigue and baseness not easy to match anywhere. +It was only through influence and pressure from +without, from England, that any civilisation kept +itself alive at all. Likewise in Russia, the small +body of German, Dutch, Italian artisans, architects, +engineers, scholars, soldiers of fortune and +sycophants that filled the German suburb at Moscow +from 1500 to 1688, transformed Russia under +Peter the Great, and continued to do so under +Elizabeth and Catherine.</p> + +<p>The ruling minority in America curried favour +with one or the other of the political parties that +happened to be in the ascendant in England; in +Russia, as the peasant was illiterate, the minority +had to curry favour with the Czar himself. During +the reigns of Peter, of Elizabeth, and Catherine, +Russian literature—that is to say, literature written +in the Russian language, as distinguished from Old +Church Slavonic—made its appearance. The most +potent weapon of civilisation, the written word, was +snatched once and for all from the hands of the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_87">[87]</span>Orthodox monks and Metropolitans, whose chronicles +had been hitherto the sole means of expression, +and given to the secular powers, the outstanding +nobles, upon whose support the safety of Czardom +really rested. This literature, in both cases, was to +take its intellectual tone from Europe, its sentimental +pretexts only were Russian or American.</p> + +<p>The influence of such Republican speculations +as James Harrington’s “Oceana” influenced the +one, as the influence of the sentimental naturalism +of Diderot and the Encyclopædists influenced the +other. At about the same time, and under the same +conditions, the power of the Old New England theocracy, +and of the Byzantine family-order began to +wane, and the control of expression of opinion +began to pass to the thriving but new commercial +communities of St. Petersburg, New York, +Charleston and Odessa.</p> + +<p>To both new countries Europe was like a great +land-bridge, representing an older, more powerful, +more refined civilisation. The ideas that prevailed +in America or in Russia were not only derived from +this body of thought, but were applied to conditions +that were totally different. In the case of Russia, +the central authority of the Czar, the nobles and the +bureaucracy, attempted to transform an inert mass +of semi-Oriental serfdom into something resembling +a modern nationalistic monarchy. In the case +<span class="pagenum" id="p_88">[88]</span>of America, the most prosperous classes, the independent +merchants and bankers, attempted to fuse +an inchoate mass of fanatics, planters and frontiersmen +into a political unity which was democratic and +federal. The ideas upon which both worked came +from Europe; in the case of Russia the model +sought after was the model of the unified French +monarchy, the Prussian State, the Austrian Empire. +In the case of America the model unconsciously +followed was that of the Greek city-states, +or of the principalities of the Italian Renaissance.</p> + +<p>Long ago, if we look far enough back in history, +the empires of Babylonia-Assyria and of Egypt +had been states dependent on great river systems +for their unity. They had sprung up independently, +while the land-bridge that lay between them, +Palestine and Moab, being highland and desert, was +not only at a lower stage of culture, but, under the +Amorites and Hittites, became a body of traders, +borrowing from each in turn, and profiting by their +situation in the territory where lay the chief caravan +routes between the two great centres of Babylon +and Heliopolis, to develop finally an independent +viewpoint and a composite race-unity for itself +under the Semites. With Russia and America, the +same process was reversed. Europe lay as a land-bridge +between Russia and America. But this +land-bridge, as a unified civilisation, had already +<span class="pagenum" id="p_89">[89]</span>passed its maximum, and was headed for decline. +Now certain elements of that civilisation were to +pass beyond Europe’s frontiers into two countries, +hitherto undeveloped, which were founded upon +river-systems. In Russia these elements were such +as could seek a common centre about the Czardom +of Muscovy. In America, these elements were such +as could build themselves into harmony with the +commercial classes of the Atlantic seaboard controlling +the river-ways that led into the interior.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_2"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>The “third Rome” that Russia proclaimed herself +to be, at the time when the Muscovite Czars +became predominant in its affairs, was essentially +the mystical, inner Rome of the Byzantine Cæsars. +Deriving its authority from seclusion, intrigue, separation +between court and people, it accepted none +as leader save he who had passed over the portal +of the Cathedral of the Transfiguration and had +received on his forehead the holy chrism from the +hands of the Orthodox Patriarch; however much he +may have despised that patriarch in his heart, as +did Peter and Catherine. But America founded a +Rome of another sort, and in this Rome, democratic +and enterprising, none was to be accepted as leader +save he who had turned his back upon the ruling +<span class="pagenum" id="p_90">[90]</span>party in England and maintained, in combined +political and religious thinking, his independence +of the motherland. Thus the two wings of the embodied +Imperial idea persisted in separation beyond +Europe’s frontiers; and the age of their uprise +was the age of the decline of the Imperial idea in +Europe. Both America and Russia came on the +stage of the world’s affairs at the time of the dissolution +of the Holy Roman Empire; both rose +to power during the period of intense nationalism +that followed; and both played important parts in +the final overthrow of Napoleon, who may be said +to have attempted to restore an Empire by the +power of his sword alone, when as a social and +spiritual ideal, it was already dead.</p> + +<p>In order to understand the sort of Rome America +founded, we must look back to the legendary +sources of England. The study of legendary history +is often more valuable to the sociological investigator +than the study of actual events. The latter +merely tells us what a people were able to accomplish +under changes of weather and economic prosperity, +the pressure of external influence, the million +and one contributory causes which make up the +life and state of well or ill-being of the community +from day to day. Legendary history, on the other +hand, reveals the goal steadily aimed at, the ideal +to which all aspired, the psychical centre about +<span class="pagenum" id="p_91">[91]</span>which all this activity revolves. Thus we cannot +understand the Greeks without a study of Achilles, +Odysseus, Theseus. The fatalistic bravery, the +wily shiftiness, the adventurous courage of a whole +folk, are here summed up. Rama and Krishna tell +us more about India than the pages of Indian history, +which are, as a matter of fact, mostly blank; +nor is America itself comprehensible without reference +to such quasi-legendary figures as Parson +Weems’ Puritanic fixation of Washington, Davy +Crockett, Andrew Jackson, or Daniel Boone. The +legendary history of England is to be found in the +pages of Geoffrey of Monmouth’s History; and as +the story told therein is essentially representative +of what many English minds of the twelfth century +believed to have been the truth, desired to make the +truth, it is necessary to look into it.</p> + +<p>According to this account, Britain was founded +by a Trojan prince, a grandson of Æneas himself, +founder of Rome. That such a thing is doubly impossible, +we now know, and we are apt to laugh at +Geoffrey for putting it forward. Yet even this +legend may contain some substratum of truth. The +Latian tribes, from which the Romans came, were +undoubtedly subject to much Phœnician influence, +and there is reason to suspect that the Western +Britons, at least, were also subject to some early +Phœnician influence. The “Trojans,” whoever +<span class="pagenum" id="p_92">[92]</span>they were, may have been a Phœnician people, or a +legend retailed by the Phœnicians. At all events, +we need not laugh at Geoffrey for his feeble arch +spanning the abyss between little Britain and +majestic Rome. The fact is, that almost everybody +in England, rich or poor, (except perhaps a few +clerics who are by nature adepts at concealing both +the truth and their doubts) believed in Geoffrey’s +time, and for several hundred years later, that the +Britons were the descendants of the Trojans, and +that under Arthur, their greatest king, they had +conquered thirty other kingdoms, and had been on +the point of conquering Rome itself when Mordred, +Arthur’s nephew, seized crown and queen. This +belief was so strong that Henry II, at the end of +the twelfth century, was not only induced to rebuild +Glastonbury, but his abbot, Henry of Blois, +discreetly “found” the tomb of Arthur there, in +order to put a stop to persistent rumors concerning +the king’s possible reappearance. And the belief +was renewed, when under the Tudors, a remote +descendant of ancient British kings mounted the +throne of his ancestors, thus fulfilling the prophecy +of Merlin.</p> + +<p>The belief that prevailed in England after the +Norman Conquest and throughout the Middle Ages—and +this belief was all the more powerful because +it was popular, unformulated, unrecognised by the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_93">[93]</span>rationalism of the ruling orders—was that England +was once on the point of conquering Rome, and +that under the new monarchy it would reassume +its position as head of the world’s affairs. This +faith came to its flower under the Tudors. Under +Henry VIII the conquest of Rome became an accomplished +fact. The poets, philosophers and +divines of the time hailed the advent of Elizabeth +in terms that made of her the equal, if not the +superior, of any empress of antiquity. And it +was precisely at this time that the newly-discovered +realm of Virginia was thrown open; that Puritanic +sectaries driven out of England by the machinery +of the State Church which Tudors and Stuarts had +set in action, Calvinistic upholders of that ascetic +intolerance which the Catholics later were themselves +to imitate, Congregationalist rebels against +episcopal supervision, were to establish overseas a +republican form of England—a third Rome. This +feeling that the mother country, in alliance with +Protestant and Colonial dissent, might become a +primitive Roman commonwealth in opposition to +the monarchial ideas of Renaissance Europe, +prevailed throughout the great struggle of the +Commons with Charles I, and the subsequent +Cromwellian dictatorship. It is not for nothing +that John Milton, before writing “Paradise Lost,” +meditated an epic on the old Arthurian story. The +<span class="pagenum" id="p_94">[94]</span>“Cromwellian” tone of the old story lay closely akin +to the rooted ambitions of his race.</p> + +<p>In short where Russia, by a process of unconscious +assimilation, became the successor of Byzantium +and thus a bulwark against Europe, a +mystically isolated bulwark, which only such unorthodox +Czars as Peter, Catherine, and Alexander +II dared to ignore,—America rose to power precisely +by consciously reverting to the Rome of the +tribunes and of warring patricians and plebeians, +a Rome that found its first test in a conflict with another +country that had already previously risen to +imperial power. England became America’s Carthage; +Poland, Lithuania and Sweden became for +Imperial Russia the analogues of the Greek city-states. +From this fact, and from a host of subsidiary +facts, arose the typical introverted attitude +of the Russian and its opposite in the American. +About the typical, one hundred per cent American +one can learn everything but his feelings. His +thoughts, his opinions, are all on the surface. +America is to him the greatest of countries. American +prosperity is the world’s prosperity, American +life is the ideal life, America’s expansion is the expansion +of the world’s democratic hope into backward +Europe and remote, superstitious Asia. Over +this simple creed a Whitman, a Jefferson and an +Emerson can shake hands. About a Russian you +<span class="pagenum" id="p_95">[95]</span>know only his feelings. His opinions he is able to +change with disconcerting completeness. A Tolstoy +can change from the creed of “getting the best +out of life for oneself and family,” to a creed of +ascetic denial of all the world’s goods, with no loss +of intensity; a Dostoevsky can somehow reconcile +the inner conflict between mystic Slavophilism and +underground rebellion against Christianity itself, +without ceasing to be Dostoevsky. Only a completely +exiled American, like Henry James, or one +who hankers after exile, like Poe, Hawthorne, or +Melville, can fully exploit his feelings; only a completely +exiled Russian, like Herzen, or one who +hankers after exile like Turgenev, Tchekhov, or +Pushkin himself, can maintain any constancy in +opinion.</p> + + +<h4 id="4_1"> + 4 +</h4> + +<p>But this is not the place to discuss the mental +attitudes implied in being an American and a Russian. +That will come out more fully as we go on. +For the moment we must revert to the course of +our interrupted historical analysis, which was abandoned +at the moment that the Americans, under +Washington, made themselves the sole masters and +controllers of the wealth of an immense continent, +left by England in their hands; while at the same +time the Russians under Catherine became masters +<span class="pagenum" id="p_96">[96]</span>and controllers of the whole of Eastern Europe, +and issued their first threat to shake off the power +of the Turks from Constantinople. Each had accomplished +this at the price of a daring alliance. +Catherine had allied herself with Prussia, which in +the preceding reign had been Russia’s most important +enemy, in order to destroy Poland utterly; +America had allied herself with France, which +twenty years before had appeared as the colonists’ +chief enemy, in order to conquer England. But the +elaborate game of eighteenth century diplomacy +that both had played, based as it was on balances of +power, secret treaties, dynastic successions, bribings +and spyings, and a cynical understanding of the +foibles of human nature, was about to come to an +end. In 1789 the French Revolution broke out, +and the cause of eighteenth century monarchy collapsed +in ruins. During the same year the first +congress of the United States assembled, under the +present American Constitution.</p> + +<p>During the years that had elapsed since the British +Government withdrew from the colonies in 1783, +America had hardened from a confederation of +semi-independent commonwealths rather on the Polish +model, completely lacking in internal unity, to +a federal republic. This transformation had come +about thanks to three converging causes. In the +first place, England, despite the Revolution, still +<span class="pagenum" id="p_97">[97]</span>held a vague sway over the interior, and though +promising to abandon her outposts in the Great +Lake territory, refused to do so. This gave the +colonists a reason for continuing to cling together, +inasmuch as all were now equally interested in the +hunger for land that possessed the settlers pushing +forward beyond the Appalachian region. In the +second place, without a central government, there +was danger that the outlying settlements might be +tempted by bribes and intrigue to throw in their +lot with England again. Vermont actually attempted +to do so; and in the new regions of Kentucky +and Tennessee intrigue was going on with +the Spaniards in occupation of Louisiana that +boded equally ill. Moreover there was the question +of the Indian tribes to settle; and the Great Lakes +and Mississippi region not only provided the chief +backbone of the Indian resistance, but were open +to foreign agents ready to arm the Indians, against +the Colonists. Lastly, the colonies had come out +of the Revolution crippled with debt, and with a +worthless currency. It was to the interest of the +newly-born, independent banking community of +New York, headed by Alexander Hamilton, to +fund this debt and replace this currency with legal +tender. Thanks to Hamilton and his associates, +the Federal Union rested from the start upon the +conservative money power. The outbreak of a +<span class="pagenum" id="p_98">[98]</span>local rebellion in Massachusetts, the increasing +trouble on the frontier, served but to centralise and +focus the aims of the Colonists upon Federalism, +and hasten the adoption of a constitution.</p> + +<p>During the same time, the Russian autocracy +under Catherine became more and more a question +of the personal whim of whatever sovereign happened +to be occupying the throne. Catherine had +begun as theoretically liberal, but she had inherited +a system that put unlimited power into her hands +to play with, and the year before she came to the +throne, the gentry were finally liberated from all +obligations of state service. This left her free to +carry on the machinery of government with the aid +of any subordinates that would do her bidding absolutely, +undeterred by patriotic, religious, or moral +scruples. As Catherine was herself entirely without +such scruples, and ruled alone by her passion +for vanity and display, her favourites had the easy +task of appealing to her baser side. Conquest was +what Catherine wanted; whether it was to bedazzle +Diderot and Voltaire, or to partition Poland, or to +embark on a campaign with Turkey, she could not +resist the lure of posing as the mistress of Europe. +Frederick the Great, who from his desperate position +as the leader of a forlorn hope, gradually built +up Prussia into a power to be reckoned with, understood +this perfectly, and was not sparing of his +<span class="pagenum" id="p_99">[99]</span>flatteries, while at the same time he watched with +equal understanding the rise of the colonies, and +wrote measured and intelligent eulogies of their +leader Washington. The difficulty with Catherine’s +system, was that it depended altogether on +her iron will, and she could do nothing to ensure +the same determination to over-ride opposition for +her successors. In order to go on she had to overlook +the desperate peasant-rising created by Pugachev, +to break with one favourite after another, and +to treat with contempt the terrible outbreak of +cholera that occurred in Moscow itself during her +reign.</p> + +<p>To both countries, the French Revolution came +as a terrible shock. To Catherine it became apparent +that unless the sovereigns of Europe acted +in concert to save the French Monarchy, her own +game was as good as lost. But unfortunately, the +European sovereigns were indisposed to act together, +and separately the Revolutionary armies +easily beat them. To Washington and the most +intelligent Americans, it soon became obvious that +although America was in alliance with France, to +maintain that alliance under new conditions would +only lead to fresh European occupations of American +soil, and to the condition that the colonists had +already faced in the last years of the Revolution, +when only the dwindling and ill-equipped Continental +<span class="pagenum" id="p_100">[100]</span>army stood between them and submission. +In the outcome both countries, despite their previous +embroilments in European politics, took a fresh +step backward into isolation. In America that isolation +was conscious and proclaimed; in Russia it +was instinctive, subconscious, and uneasy. Its +course in both cases, was charted and developed by +the subsequent career of Napoleon.</p> + +<p>We cannot understand Napoleon’s character, +nor the tragedy of his career, unless we grasp the +fact that he was born in an atmosphere of local +rebellion resembling exactly the rebellion of the +American colonies under Great Britain. But in +Corsica, this sort of thing was bound to fail, because +the Corsicans did not have, like the American +colonists, the undeveloped wastes and the boundless +resources of a remote continent to fall back +upon. Napoleon grew to manhood understanding +that destiny would not consent to be on the side +of European uprisings; and this understanding +guided his mental orientation, first towards the +idealistic Jacobins, whose real aim was a Constitutional +and popular monarchy, then, when that hope +failed, towards a military dictatorship. And this +military dictatorship took on more and more the +outer form of a Roman imperium divested of Byzantine +ceremonial, in his own eyes. By combining +<span class="pagenum" id="p_101">[101]</span>theoretic liberalism with personal talent he +thought he could revive ancient Cæsarism.</p> + +<p>The true turning point in Napoleon’s career came +when from his camp at Boulogne, he turned East +before learning of Trafalgar, and went off to fight +Austria and Prussia. The star he then followed +led him inevitably to the blazing streets of Moscow, +and finally to utter self-destruction, because +every step that he took upon the eastward path depended +on his ability to create an atmosphere of +overwhelming military prestige, in order to overawe +all the monarchs of Europe into accepting him +as their equal. In thus turning eastward, Napoleon +had to go against his own inmost conviction +that he was born to save the Revolution. Had he +overcome England’s stubborn opposition to change +(and there were many people in England half-disposed +to pray that he might do so) there would +have been nothing against his victorious forward +advance but the Atlantic and the new American +States, which were unknown quantities in opinion, +but which were rapidly dividing into two parties +under Washington and Jefferson. But in order +to do this, Napoleon would have been obliged to +depend on such maritime war genius as his country +could bring forth, and since he had no ability or experience +in naval war, this decided him. Napoleon +must have known that he was not invincible on land—no +<span class="pagenum" id="p_102">[102]</span>general ever is—and yet his attempt to create +a European empire depended on his being practically +invincible, as he well knew. Hence his alternations +of desperate hope and disillusionment, +hence the tragic epic, logically insane, of his career.</p> + +<p>Whether Napoleon was right or wrong in the +course he followed, his idea was destined to dominate +Europe throughout the nineteenth century and +to survive into the twentieth. With prophetic insight +he charted the later course Europe was to +follow, and laid the foundations of the personal +Cæsarism of Mussolini and his followers, as well as +anticipating in his continental system of Confederations, +the reverse process that has led to the establishment +of a League of Nations. But with European +nineteenth century history it is not the purpose +of this study to deal, nor even with the outward +events of American and Russian history, except +insofar as each bears upon, reflects and alters +the course of the other. The history of Napoleon is, +after all, neatly parallelled by the history of those +Israelite kings who, caught between Egypt and the +Assyrian empire, were forced to turn first against +one and then the other. Our concern here is rather +with the two forces beyond Europe’s frontier, now +at work in Russia and in America; forces that were +increasingly to direct the destiny not of Europe +alone, but of the world.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_103">[103]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="BOOK_II"> + BOOK II + </h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_104">[104]</span></p> +<blockquote class="constrain"> +<p><i>“There is an organic logic, an instinctive and dream-sure +logic of all existence, as opposed to the logic of the +inorganic, the logic of understanding and of things understood—a +logic of direction as opposed to a logic of extension.”</i></p> + +<p class="right"> + <span class="allsmcap">OSWALD SPENGLER</span>,<br> + “Decline of the West.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"><i>“If the cause of the happiness of this country (America) +was examined into, it would be found to arise as much +from the great plenty of land in proportion to the inhabitants, +as from the wisdom of their political institutions.”</i></p> + +<p class="right"> + <span class="allsmcap">ALBERT GALLATIN</span>,<br> + in the Congressional Debate<br> + on The Land Bill of 1796. +</p> + +<p class="p2"><i>“Why is it that in Europe those who call themselves +Democrats always stand for the people, or at any rate +always rely on the people, while our democrat is often an +aristocrat, nearly always supports that which oppresses +the power of the people, and ends by becoming a despot?”</i></p> + +<p class="right"> + <span class="allsmcap">FEODOR DOSTOEVSKY</span>,<br> + commenting on the Pushkin Address, 1881. +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_105">[105]</span></p> +</blockquote> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_V"> + Chapter V + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>Every race and every nation that has ever +existed has achieved its destiny only by selecting +out of the many paths open to it, one path peculiar +to itself and following that, acquiring thereby +the singular virtue that is a particularity of that +way of life, and of none other. The choice of such +a path is never either a deliberate act of will on +the part of a few individuals or of the great majority. +It is due to the operation of climatic, social, +and political factors influencing the capacity and +environment of the race itself so that before we can +say what any organised body of men can achieve, +we have to take into consideration the place where +they settle, the sort of work they are best fitted to +perform, and the psychological possibilities inherent +in the race itself. Thus we can say of the +ancient Greeks that their special virtue was a new +kind of intellectual agility, due to their position in +a rocky and infertile peninsula, as small farmers +and shipmen; while to the east and south lay older +and more long-settled states which did not share +the peculiar strain of adventurous daring and natural +<span class="pagenum" id="p_106">[106]</span>sentiment that the original Dorian settlers possessed. +The Romans on the other hand, thanks to +their genius for collective action, as well as the +necessity that was imposed on them from the outset +of conquering and ruling from fortified central +hill-towns a more fertile valley-land divided between +warring and highly-varied racial stocks, acquired +early the virtues of discipline, loyalty, and +legalism. The ancient Hebrews, on account of +their position as nomads, no less than the constant +proximity of the desert, together with the ever-present +fear of external conquest, developed into a +race of religious seers, prophets, and hard bargainers +with the surrounding peoples, who displayed +greater resources of material power, but less spiritual +resource than they. Thus they acquired the +mingled virtues of patience and far-seeing desire +for justice, and tempered their will to the absolute +to a higher degree than either Greeks or Romans. +This method of seeing each people not as an abstraction, +but a living force, taking and giving +colour to its environment, could be applied with +equal force to all modern nations.</p> + +<p>Until we understand these psychological and ethical +differences between nations, and are able to follow +them from the highest historical event down to +the daily life of the humblest individual, history is +no more than a mere recital of names and dates. +<span class="pagenum" id="p_107">[107]</span>Waterloo, Trafalgar, Bunker Hill, Gettysburg, +Tsushima and the Somme have no meaning unless +we understand that behind every man and gun engaged +there move the forces of unseen yet potent +essences, swaying the result in their hands, now in +one way, now in another. Homer was essentially +right, artistically and philosophically, when he made +his gods not only take an interest in the fortunes +of the Trojan War upon earth, but also ready to +take now one side, now the other, in that contest. +It is of the nature of humanity to hold fast to that +good which it realises to be necessary, in art as in +life; and to seek to adjust both art and life to the +most obvious reaction to necessity of the single +soul, or of the body politic, under the underlying +circumstances. Thus ethics and æsthetics are, +psychologically speaking, essentially one and the +same, and artistic or religious history is written +fundamentally for a moral purpose. Even a Gibbon, +despite his scepticism, was unable to avoid the +moral implications of his theme in writing “The +Decline and Fall.”</p> + +<p>Our problem here is not to settle the sociological +differences prevailing among the nations of Europe, +but rather to examine the peculiar psychology +which has throughout controlled the behaviour of +the two great frontier states that at the end of the +eighteenth century began to react upon Europe’s +<span class="pagenum" id="p_108">[108]</span>destiny, Russia and North America. What we +shall have to say about North America here applies +also in the same measure to South America, in its +interaction upon the Latin-Mediterranean world; +but in this respect it was North America that was +the teacher, and the Declaration of Independence +that the thirteen English-speaking colonies, which +later formed the United States, signed in 1776, was +followed and copied thereafter throughout the +whole extent of both American continents. Both +Russia and America, in its most extreme and characteristic +national form of the United States, have +existed long enough and have maintained, if not +their complete independence, at least their aloofness +long enough to have acquired psychological +characteristics and virtues entirely different from +anything that European nations can show us. But +if we go to the pages of European historians, or +even to European novelists, poets, and philosophers +prepared to ask the question: “What is an American, +a Russian? In what way do they differ from +anything European or from each other?”, we by no +means obtain a satisfactory answer. The only way +we can deal with such a problem is by a direct envisagement +first, of all of the countries of Europe +itself, in so far as they have common characteristics; +and second, of the conditions under which +Russia and America came to be what they are.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_109">[109]</span></p> + +<p>Europe, psychologically speaking, is a great +circle. The lower part of this circle—and since the +downfall of Pagan Rome, the less creative, active +and pioneering part—is coloured by the older +Latin-Mediterranean civilisation, which thanks to +its conquest of North Africa was able in antiquity +to be the central force in European progress, but +which lost this actuality after the seventh century, +thanks to the uprise of Islam, and the renewed +political power of the Germanic race. During the +Middle Ages, the actually dominant force in +Europe became the power of the northern half, and +this Northern half has been controlled by two +forces:—the boundless practical energy of the +Teuton, the equally boundless intellectual curiosity +of the Celt. If we follow these forces around +the circumference of the circle which is Europe, +through England, France, Spain, Italy, Austria, +Hungary, Poland, Scandinavia, Scotland and Ireland +till everywhere the boundaries merge with +what is non-European,—be that either Moor or +Turk or Lapp or Finn or Firbolg or Basque—we +see that each European nation has grown +up as a variation on the original Celtic-Teutonic-Latin +chord; and that each has precisely what +the other lacks, so that they complete each other. +But this cannot be said of the great congeries of +peoples that inhabit the Russian plain from the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_110">[110]</span>Baltic to the Black Sea. Here the original Slavonic—that +is to say largely Scandinavian and East-European +element—became overlaid with Tartar +racial colour, to such an extent that only the intellectual +top stratum, not the sentimental race-basis +underneath, remained European. Nor can +we define Northern America as fundamentally +European, either. Apart from the Spanish influence, +which so completely merged itself with the +native Red Indian race and atmosphere as to become +inseparable from it, we find that in America +everywhere the original variations—such as French, +Scottish, Scandinavian, English, Irish,—have +tended not to remain distinct but to mingle with +each other to such an extent that the result is a +racial composite, continually becoming more and +more flexible, which is solely united by common +bonds of language and economic association, not of +defined racial instinct. The result is that only the +diminishing appeal of old sentimental association, +not the fundamental present-day adjustment to +the situation, makes the American something akin +to the European. In order therefore to understand +either America or Russia we have largely to dismiss +Europe as a culturally fixed entity from our +minds, and plunge into a wilderness of conflicting +forces, guided only by the sense of historical movement +and by our knowledge of the course that history +<span class="pagenum" id="p_111">[111]</span>has already taken, together with our instinct +for soil and scenery and climate. When we arrive +at the goals we are seeking, we will perhaps find +that our most valuable tools will not after all be +the fine pencil of the artist, but the plough of the +economist, the axe of the social statistician.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_4"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>The fundamental quality of the American took +its origin at the outset from an overwhelming passion +for land. The innumerable shiploads of people +that have sped westward across the Atlantic from +Columbus’ first voyage, down to the latest ocean +liner, have sought to find land, to achieve land, to +settle land, to overrun land, to subdue land. Even +the Indian tribes that inhabited that interior before +the white man came shared this feeling for land to +a considerable extent. Most of them were nomads, +practising little agriculture, and incapable of any +lasting combination against the whites, because of +their incurable habit of appropriating the hunting +grounds of their neighbours. The most effective +combinations, such as that of the Aztecs in Mexico +or the Iroquois in the northwest, were very active +despotisms, continually raiding the territory of +weaker tribes and holding them to tribute. The +whites, on attaining America, as they penetrated +<span class="pagenum" id="p_112">[112]</span>the interior, increasingly tended to drop their European +powers of combination and to take on the +nomadism and the local jealousies of the savage. +One sees this in the eternal quarrels of the Spanish +conquistadores over their spoil, no less than in the +struggles of the separate colonies that preceded and +continued throughout the Revolution, over the development +of the western territory. The Revolution +itself was less a war to put an end to British +oppression than a successful attempt on the part +of the colonial landholding aristocracy to attain to +an indefinite expansion to the westward without +British interference. It was directed by Washington +who was himself one of the largest landowners +of the period, and whose whole life was motivated +by the passion for acquiring new land, notably in +the Ohio region. From the Revolution through the +Civil War and down to the fantastic scenes of the +Florida land boom of a few years ago, the passion +for land has been the motive force—one might +almost say the virtue—of the great majority of +Americans. For land spells to them security, and +security means wealth, and wealth leads to power. +The American race—if we can speak of such a +thing—is a race of land-seizers and land-exploiters. +The sinister prominence of the lawyer in American +life, even on the frontier, from the beginning, was +due to the innumerable wrangles about land-grants +<span class="pagenum" id="p_113">[113]</span>and land-claims. The entire subdual of the American +continent by the whites, which took barely fifty +years to accomplish, was accompanied by such a +waste of the public domain as has been rarely +paralleled in history. It is not for nothing that +America has been referred to over and over again +in the words of its orators and writers as “the land +of promise,” “land of the Pilgrim’s pride,” “land +of the free and home of the brave,” “the land of +to-morrow.” One meets with something of the +same sort for the first time in the glowing accounts +of Columbus and the earliest Spanish explorers.</p> + +<p>The sensation which inspired these accounts that +in America one finds a fabulous and unexplored +region of wealth, can still be experienced by almost +anyone making a voyage westward across the +Atlantic. Owing to the fact that the prevailing +winds are westerly and that the Gulf Stream runs +east, the journey to this day, even under modern +steamer conditions, is frequently more rough and +productive of discomfort than the passage from +America to Europe. The westward coasts of +Europe drop abruptly to the sea in great cliffs; +the craggy coast of Cornwall, the sombre cliffs of +Ireland, the great headlands of Portugal and +Spain. Beyond that, there is nothing but waves +and wind—wind always opposing further progress. +And America does not make its presence known, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_114">[114]</span>until just before one reaches it. Two days before +New York one encounters the Gulf Stream, that +strange region of low-lying clouds, of heavy rain +squalls, of intensely dark blue seas lifting and falling +under crowns of heavy white foam. These seas +are weedy, and the gulls become more frequent +here, so that the whole has an effect of being a No +Man’s Land of fantasy, a world before the creation +gave bounds to chaos, a region where nothing is +living except the ship. Then one comes out of the +Gulf Stream into greyer, shoal water. All the +rest of the way lies through shoals—long stretches +of the sea more often shrouded in fog than shaken +by storms, flat, unstirring, that invite one ever further +and further onward. Europe is cut off, once +and for all. The land—the unknown land—is taking +possession of us. And the first thing one sees +of this strange unknown region beyond Europe +is a long empty sandbank, inviting one further still.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, in travelling towards Russia, +one has the impression that the land itself, like the +ocean on the trans-Atlantic voyage, will never +really come to an end. Long before one has finished +rolling over the monotonous Polish plain, Europe is +left behind. The endless distances, the sombre pine +woods, the starveling villages, the scraggy fields, +simply succeed one the other. Before such a landscape +one has the fear of being cut off—of not being +<span class="pagenum" id="p_115">[115]</span>able ever to return to habitable scenes. Napoleon +must have faced such a feeling when he hesitated +on almost every stage of his journey to Moscow +before going on; and even when one has gone on and +crossed the frontier, the plain is still the same, the +desolation and loneliness are only a little more +intense. There is no Russia, nothing but a frightful +distance of wilderness left behind which we must +recross in order to find the social compactness of +Europe. One is sick of land, sick of these endless +horizons long before reaching Moscow, where at +last one finds Russia. And when one reaches Russia +at last, the mysterious face of the country is hidden +behind the red walls of the Kremlin.</p> + +<p>The passion for land then which made America +what it is, is not the same passion that has made +Russia what it is. Before the monotony of Russia +the educated Russian shrugs his shoulders, the uneducated +peasant spits. There is nothing here of +the enthusiasm with which each American tells you +excitedly that his is “God’s own country.” Nothing +at all. The Russian is far more likely to assure you +that his is “a dark people” living in “an unhappy +country.” The passion that moves the Russian is at +bottom something equally simple, and explicable, as +the passion that moves the American. It has different +psychological roots, and a different manifestation +in form. But it isolates itself just as completely +<span class="pagenum" id="p_116">[116]</span>from Europe as the American identification +of land and prosperity.</p> + +<p>The Russian craves for power. This is comprehensible +when one understands that Russia, with +her enormous population, lay helpless and powerless +under the Tartar invasion from the twelfth +century till the sixteenth, when Ivan the Great and +his successor, Ivan the Terrible, took the first steps +towards independence, and consolidation. And +even after that time, long after Russia had become +a unified whole under the sole sway of Moscow, +there were very few with power sufficient to keep +this unity together. This is the true significance +of the “time of troubles” that followed Ivan the +Terrible’s end. His remaining legitimate son, a +minor, was mentally incapable of rule; the choice +of the leading nobles, Boris Godunov, was strong +and capable, but could not prevail against the idea—rooted +in the hearts of the people—that the +power of the Czar should descend in unbroken succession +from one anointed sovereign to the other. +It was easy for a perfectly obscure man to impersonate +the legitimate heir (who was actually dead), +obtain Polish support, and finally by bargaining +with the other nobles, who were jealous of Boris, +make himself Czar. The subsequent history of the +next twenty years reads like a nightmare. A succession +of pretenders to the throne uprose, in each +<span class="pagenum" id="p_117">[117]</span>case giving out that they were sons, legitimate or +illegitimate, of Ivan; and anarchy and disruption +grew so rapidly that in the end in Moscow itself the +nobles took two sides, now upholding one party, +now the other. Only the intervention of the Church +itself—at that time and for long later revered by the +peasant and noble alike as being the one source of +supernatural and united power,—saved the country’s +independence, and allowed the Romanov line +to ascend the throne. The same troubles broke out +after Peter the Great’s reign. Having put his only +legitimate heir to death, Peter announced that on +each successive Czar after his time devolved the +duty of naming his own successor. But he himself +died before he did so. The result was a fresh series +of impersonations, and more disorder, which rose +to a climax in Catherine’s reign, in the peasant +rebellion of Pugachev, a Cossack, who gave out +that he was the legitimate Czar, the husband murdered +by Catherine’s orders, and moreover gave +names of well-known courtiers to his peasant +officers.</p> + +<p>Thus, for over two centuries and a half, from the +time when Ivan the Great assumed the title of +Czar of all the Russias at Moscow, down to the +time of Peter the Great, the idea had grown and +spread in the Russian mind that security, order, +life and happiness itself were dependent on the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_118">[118]</span>maintenance of power. This power was spiritual +in its essence; power to command and to be able to +enforce one’s command. That explains why successive +pretenders to the throne, after Peter the +Great’s time, were at pains to have their cause +blessed by some prominent prelate of the “Old +Believers,” the anti-reform party which Peter himself +had driven from the official Church, and which +still persisted despite his edicts. It also explains +why in every Russian house, before the Revolution, +there was always to be found a shelf containing +icons. It is not that the Russian is more superstitious +than other people. It is simply because the +saints are above all miracle-workers. They have, +it is felt, supernatural powers. They and they alone +can protect the sacred centre of the hearth from +external disorder. After the Revolution, when the +saints were shown to be powerless, the icons were +taken down, and portraits of Lenin took their place. +The Russian, whether peasant or noble, reactionary +or revolutionary, seeks above all to command respect—and +only the man with unlimited power can +do this, in his eyes. The hero of Dostoevsky’s +“Memoirs from the Underground” is illuminating +in this respect. He is ready to reject the offer of +any Utopia, unless he is given the liberty of “putting +out his tongue at it,” and prefers to live in a +<span class="pagenum" id="p_119">[119]</span>hencoop instead. The American would make no +such mistake. He would live loyally in the Utopia +or the hencoop provided he were given a million +dollars or its equivalent in steel-works, oil or water +power leases.</p> + +<p>It may perhaps be argued that the American of +the present day has not the same passion for land-exploitation +that his forbears had, but is apt, as in +the above example, to lay stress on the importance +of making money, of doing “big business.” This, +however, is due less to any transformation of his +original impulse than to the prevailing effect of the +industrial system. Stocks, bonds, and factories +have simply become substitutes for the broad acres +of undeveloped fertility that his forefathers knew. +Despite them, few Americans continue to live in the +homes that their ancestors built. They are migrants, +seeking something else. What they seek +is a place where they can really feel at home, and +this they cannot find without liberty and prosperity. +Of that liberty and prosperity an individual domain +is the actual symbol. It is not for nothing +that so many wealthy Americans acquire old estates +in Europe. Here they can for the first time feel +that they are part of a settled land-tradition. They +belong somewhere; they have a home, not simply +a piece of soil only differentiated from the surrounding +<span class="pagenum" id="p_120">[120]</span>prairie by having a house on it. They are +henceforth free to indulge their passion for possession +to the utmost.</p> + +<p>Power, then, means land, wealth, possessions to +the American: to the Russian it means simply absolute +and arbitrary freedom to do as he pleases. +That is the psychological attitude that rules over +the average man in both cases. The average American +believes himself to be a product of “God’s own +country” and only seeks an opportunity to prove it; +the average Russian believes himself accursed by +fate and thwarted by life, but is determined to +make others respect his arbitrary whim. And the +intellectuals only differ from the average by the +degree to which they pursue these aims. It is +impossible to show fully how this is so without anticipating +matter that, properly speaking, belongs +to another section of this study. We may however +take two important and highly illuminating examples +to illustrate our thesis.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_3"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>Let us take the case of the completely uprooted +Russian and the completely uprooted American. +In such a case, if the obsession of the two minds +were towards power and land as we have just +stated, we should normally expect this obsession to +<span class="pagenum" id="p_121">[121]</span>be even more evident than it is in the case of the +stay-at-homes. The nineteenth century provided +two notable examples of this type, in the cases of +Turgenev and Henry James. Here were two men +of high intelligence and artistic capacity who spent +their lives out of their respective countries. Since +they were nearly contemporaries (though Turgenev +was the elder) and moneyed men to boot, they practically +came under the influence of the same type +and period of European civilisation; and there is +also a close kinship in their art, Turgenev having +spent his life in refining upon the lyrical realism of +Gogol, while Henry James spent his in refining +upon the psychological realism of Hawthorne. +Yet if we examine their careers there is nothing that +presents a greater contrast.</p> + +<p>The motive that guided Henry James was a +search for a fatherland. He sought deliberately to +build himself into the scheme of social relationships +offered him by the country of his choice, which was +England. In order to satisfy this passion for possessing +a country, he set himself the task of assimilating +the past of England, of which he knew little, +and forgetting the past of America, of which he +knew much. The result was that he fell into a cosmopolitanism +which was neither English nor American; +which was intensely artificial since it was the +result not of the working of social, moral or religious +<span class="pagenum" id="p_122">[122]</span>factors, but of an æsthetic parasitism. Since +James was a highly conscientious artist, he could +not help making the most of this material, but its +indecisiveness, its detachment from the cruder but +more essential issues of life gradually sapped the +source of the power with which he presented it. +Even the common kinship of language which had +perhaps chiefly appealed to him in taking up his +residence in England, became a treacherous double-edged +weapon, to be handled gingerly, rather than +as an ally in this struggle. It has been said that +Thomas Hardy once remarked sardonically that +Henry James when he wrote about Washington +Square wrote well, but that when he wrote about +England, “did not know the difference between a +rectory and a parish.” James himself probably +felt this, and it explains his increasing apologeticalness, +his increasing love of qualification, which +makes his later style so much of a painful maze and +puzzle. In the search for a country—a country +that could never be totally his and yet must be +made his—he sacrificed everything: vigour and directness, +independence of judgment, breadth of +vision, even his own life. The desire to become part +of England became the ruling passion of Henry +James’ life; it became so engrossing as to wipe out +of his mind all earthly love affairs, and to assume +the proportions of a grand passion, pursued with +<span class="pagenum" id="p_123">[123]</span>the ardor of a specialist. He attained his end, but +only to die.</p> + +<p>Turgenev did not go in this direction; he renewed +by visits his own sense of the physical appearance, +the psychological reality of Russia. But he sought +just as persistently for some power greater than +Russia to which he might give himself. Ardently +believing in freedom, liberal in mind and in politics, +he spent most of his life in revolt against the crudeness +and crassness of the Russian world he had +known; nor was he able to accept at its face value +what the European State was ready to put into its +place, as his pamphlet, “The Execution of Troppmann” +bears witness. The only power, it seemed +to him, was in the detached individual; and this +drew the aristocratic landowner Turgenev towards +the nihilists and the anarchists. He was the first +to draw the portrait of a nihilist in his novel, +“Fathers and Sons.” This conclusion too with its +unsentimental realism, shocked Turgenev’s own +conscience; with the result that he became the great +portrayer of indecisive souls, of “superfluous men,” +of hesitating, Hamlet-like, impotent characters to +be found in the whole range of Russian literature. +His complete erotic enslavement to the singer, +Pauline Viardot, only increased this tendency. +Here was a power that at least was greater than his. +In his old age, in the “Dream-Tales” and “Poems +<span class="pagenum" id="p_124">[124]</span>in Prose,” Turgenev became a confirmed pessimist, +feeling that all power lay totally beyond man’s +grasp, in the divine indifference of nature and fate. +Shortly after a final visit to Russia, during which +he was applauded by the cosmopolitan literary +salons, with their sentimental liberalism, but critically +attacked by the most powerful Russian writers +of his own generation, Turgenev died.</p> + +<p>There are other points of parallelism between +these two remarkable figures; such, for example, as +the curious preference both displayed for female +characters. But enough has been said to show that +the power-land antithesis, which is here set down +as the key to the Russian and American character +persists even in the most refined, uprooted and +highly subtle specimens of the race. If it persists +in these, what must its strength be in the most +native and elemental specimens? To find this question +answered, the reader must turn to a later section +of this study, where the antithesis will be more +fully discussed in the works of Tolstoy and Whitman, +Melville and Dostoevsky. Meanwhile it is +sufficient to note once again that this antithesis is, +in fact, a likeness. What the American and the +Russian both seek is essentially freedom to do what +they like—the freedom of which the American +Jefferson wrote when he said the human being +<span class="pagenum" id="p_125">[125]</span>mostly wants to be let alone. The Russian seeks +this freedom by means of attempting to despotically +impose himself upon others; the American by +means of acquiring the wealth or the estate that +will enable him to set himself apart from his neighbours. +The outer means only are different; the +tendencies in their inner nature are essentially the +same, springing as they do from an inner revolt +against the modified “freedom in restraint” discovered +and practised in Europe.</p> + + +<h4 id="4_2"> + 4 +</h4> + +<p>Before quitting this side of our subject it may +be worth while to discuss one of the most notable +examples of a revolter against this European “freedom +in restraint” which America has produced. I +refer not to Whitman, who indeed is an extreme +though later and more logical example, but to +Emerson. For Emerson was the pioneer in the +path that Thoreau and Whitman later followed, +and the more scholarly bent of his mind, together +with the philosophical tinge he was able to throw +over his doctrine, make of him a figure of supreme +importance in American literature. There is no +parallel to Emerson in Russian literature, no such +single figure as he to paradoxically span the whole +<span class="pagenum" id="p_126">[126]</span>field of thought and give tone and direction to all +that followed. For as he was on the one side +pantheist mystic, upholding a contemplative ideal +very different from the feverish pioneer effort on +every side about him, so he was on the other side +equally practical Yankee, foreshadowing the +“practical truth” of the Pragmatists, and preferring +activity to thought.</p> + +<p>The basis of his doctrine might be described in +these words from the longer of his two essays on +“Nature”: “Why should not we also enjoy an +original relation to the universe? Why should we +not have a poetry and philosophy out of insight, +not of tradition, and a religion by revelation to us?... +The sun shines to-day also. There is more +wool and flax in the fields. There are new lands, +new men, new thoughts. Let us demand our own +works and laws and worship.”</p> + +<p>It must be noted that these “works and laws and +worship” were all to be derived afresh from nature +by the Americans who—by the simple accident of +transporting themselves into a new and undeveloped +country—were suddenly going to find them +out for themselves, without external help from the +past. Emerson’s own attitude towards the past is +highly paradoxical. In one breath, he admits that +the past contains much that is of value: Plato, and +<span class="pagenum" id="p_127">[127]</span>Jesus and other “representative men.” But in the +next, he repudiates utterly the lesson of the past +and declares the measure of history to be the ordinary +man. Why? Because the Americans were +individualist pioneers, and far from toning down +their individualism, Emerson would make it still +more acute. His chief ethical doctrine is self-reliance +to the uttermost. And self-reliance to him +meant in reality reliance on nature and external +brute fact, as it must in every pioneer and rapidly-developing +community. In other words, Emerson’s +theory logically meant that the backwoodsman was +equally if not more important to the scheme of +things than the sage, the poet, and the scholar. It +is true that Emerson tried to save his own position +as one of the best read men in America, by positing +in everyone’s breast a vague, mystical, and rather +woolly “oversoul,” which at its appropriate time +and place would bend down and whisper in the +vulgarest being’s ear how much akin he was to +Socrates or Marcus Aurelius. But this check on his +favourite self-reliance is altogether the weakest and +least important part of Emerson’s teaching and for +its obscurantism deserves to be ranked along with +the infantile mystery mongering of American +pseudo-oriental cults and secret societies.</p> + +<p>In his soberer moments, Emerson did indeed +<span class="pagenum" id="p_128">[128]</span>realize that there were two laws abroad in this +world: the “law for man and the law for thing” and +that while the “law for thing” had much the best +of it, in practical affairs, it was destructive of human +worth and dignity in the long run. But unfortunately, +he never decided in his own mind +whether to give his support to human dignity, or to +the “law for thing” which was having its own way +in the America of which he wrote. So he salved +his conscience by supposing that nature would help +his fellow-countrymen to find their own laws. But +so far as nature is concerned, man is probably of +less importance, certainly of far less permanence, +than the tree that stands in the midst of the field +and sucks its life strength directly from the bosom +of the earth and the oceanic vastness of the air. But +man comes and cuts down the tree to build himself +a cabin, and when he has built it makes a law of +a sort which nature never knew, to the effect that +no one who crosses its threshold shall ever come +armed to kill him, and that the woman who sleeps +with him on its wolf-pelt bed for one night shall +remain to serve him and his needs both night and +day. That is the law for the man, and it goes on, +whether the wind that rocked the tree, lays flat the +cabin, or the earth that suckled it swallows it up. +Yet Emerson fondly supposed that some wonderful +<span class="pagenum" id="p_129">[129]</span>new law could be made by simply transporting man +out of a peasant’s cottage that had stood for centuries +in Europe, and giving him a log hut in the +wilderness. He flattered the vanity of the Americans, +by telling them that their prosperous growth +would not only develop the body but the soul. It +was a false theory, doing incalculable harm.</p> + +<p>Emerson’s philosophy was entirely a philosophy +for pioneers and with the vanishing of the pioneer +type its influence and the influence of the vague +mystical land-hunger of the frontier—that marvellous +realm where wonderful things were always to +be done, but never accomplished—began to diminish +in American life. Yet with its insistence on individual +self-reliance and on possession, Emerson +struck the keynote of the American philosophy of +to-day with its “go-getter” shrewdness, its refrain +of “getting as much as you can and giving as little +as you can,” its assumption of superiority based on +individual cunning, its vague and pernicious subsidiary +hankering for what is mysterious and occult +and esoteric, whereby its crudeness is leavened. All +this America owes to one man, to Emerson, and it +is obvious that we must forgive this man the enormous +damage he did by recollecting continually, +how just before his day, America had passed +through the most inchoate period of her national +<span class="pagenum" id="p_130">[130]</span>development, a period of democratic chaos, out of +which neither an intelligent institution nor an organized +political state could have evolved had it not +been for the conservative moneyed classes. Let us +also remember that Emerson, in his private capacity, +loved chiefly to appear as a scholar, in order +to distinguish himself from the community; much +as Tolstoy, in his desire to set himself apart, loved +to pose as a peasant and wear birch-bark shoes.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_131">[131]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_VI"> + Chapter VI + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>Nothing is more illuminating of the contrasted +power-land psychology prevailing in +Russia and America than the attitude taken up by +both nations in regard to the difficult and insistent +problem of the Jews. Since the beginning of Christianity, +the Jews have been both powerless and +landless; whether in their dispersal they have aimed +at reattaining power or at reattaining land is a +question that at first sight seems almost impossible +to answer. A certain amount of knowledge of Jewish +social conditions is necessary before we can even +begin to find the reply. The great Dispersal, following +upon the fall of Jerusalem, led the rabbis +who thereby became in fact as well as in theory, the +heads of the people, to concentrate the attention of +their fellow-religionists on one point; a thorough +understanding and detailed obedience to the Law. +The compilation of the Talmud, that strange heterogeneous +commentary, was the immediate result. +As regards the possession of land, all hopes that the +Jew might have in that respect were relegated to +the distant future, when the Holy Land, by some +<span class="pagenum" id="p_132">[132]</span>miracle, would be restored to him. The teaching of +the rabbis was, that to maintain his status as a +Jew, every member of the community must, above +all, observe the law in the minutest particulars; beyond +this, he could hold any political creed he liked. +Jehovah would restore Zion to him in due time without +his making an effort to attain it.</p> + +<p>The later development of Judaism has in the +main followed out this principle. Zionism as a +political faith has never been highly popular +amongst better-class Jews, and may be said to +appeal mostly to those who are least patient of the +moral and intellectual despotism forged by the +rabbi-class throughout the Middle Ages to maintain +their order. Zionism often goes hand in hand +with dangerously unorthodox political and religious +theory. It appeals more to the Chassid mystic, +than to the orthodox rationalist. The Jews who +survived the Dispersal and the early persecutions of +the Romans, tended continually to become more +and more members of large city populations, handcraftsmen, +traders, or bankers, on the eve of the +Middle Ages. During that period, the process of +making the Jews a parasitic, financial class, was +accelerated. The one trade that the Middle Ages +left to them was that of jeweller or money-lender. +Progressive persecution, the need to keep all wealth +in movable form, the eternal migration from one +<span class="pagenum" id="p_133">[133]</span>country to another, more and more concentrated +the mind of the race on movable capital as a source +of power. Except for a few Ghettos, contemptuously +permitted, the Jew had no land.</p> + +<p>The history of the Jews in Russia properly begins +with Catherine’s partition of Poland and the consequent +establishment of the Pale of Settlement in +1791. From that time on it has been a tale of uninterrupted +oppression and persecution. This +oppression and persecution was carried to fantastic +lengths not only by the Czars themselves but still +more by their subjects. Pogroms were openly +applied to the unfortunate Jews by successive governments +under Alexander III and Nicholas II. +It is now generally admitted that these attacks +were carried out by the armed population, with the +open connivance and aid of police officers. The +military authorities in many cases unsuccessfully +protested against the inflammatory pamphlets, underground +propaganda, and other methods employed +by the police and the Ministry of the Interior +to bring these massacres about. Pogroms +were, therefore, though encouraged from above, +unmistakably mob-movements and as such, in the +overcrowded Jewish Pale, highly popular. They +corresponded to something essential in the character +of the Russian people themselves—an intense +hatred and suspicion of the Jew, combined with a +<span class="pagenum" id="p_134">[134]</span>desire to seek a scapegoat for intolerable conditions +of taxation and oppression.⁠<a id="FNanchor_1_1" href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<p>This suspicion arose undoubtedly through fear +of the power the Jewish race might possess if allowed +to live and flourish in impunity. The talk of +“ritual murder” which motivated many pogroms +was but a symptom of this underlying belief common +to the illiterate Russian masses that the Jew +had some hypnotic magic ability that set him apart +from other men. The fact that the Jews were +highly literate, that they frequently adopted the +profession of doctors, money-lenders, or something +analogous—requiring brain work—struck the Russian +peasant as peculiar. His favourite receptacle +of mystic power was the orthodox Church, and +above the Church the Czar, whom the Church alone +could sanctify. The Jew rejected the Church; in +consequence, the Czar had confined him in the Pale, +and by successive edicts, forbidden him even to attend +the universities and obtain an education. The +reason must be that the Jew had some power greater +than the Czar, the church, and even God. He must +be in fact, an ally of Satan. The pogrom followed +as a matter of course, and the most intense nationalism +became allied with the most rabid anti-Semitism.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_135">[135]</span></p> + +<p>When the régime of the Czars collapsed in the +Revolution of 1917, and the Bolsheviks came into +power, it was noted by many that among these Bolsheviks +were several that were Jews. That Lenin +himself was a Jew—adopted by a family of provincial +nobles to take the place of a son lost in infancy—became +one of the legends soon spread by enemies +of the new régime. There was however no evidence +of this, and the Jewish members of the new political +party into whose hands Russia fell, were not less +hostile to Judaism in the orthodox sense than to any +other religion. And this naturally so, for the rabbis +had again and again insisted that only God Himself +had the power and the ability to deliver His people, +and restore their sway. The later development of +the Bolshevik revolution has shown once again that +the Russian people have an instinctive hostility to +everything Jewish in tone. The Jewish members +of the Soviet Council have been progressively +eliminated, or passed over; so that in Russia to-day +the influence of Jewish ideas is less than it ever was. +Even Marx, whose theories gave Lenin his impetus, +is considered to-day less important than Lenin; and +there is growing an increased cult for Darwin and +Ford rather than Marx within the bosom of the +Bolshevik party. The Bolshevik movement has +been in its essence, the development of an heretical +religious faith, based on the creed of Western naturalism +<span class="pagenum" id="p_136">[136]</span>and utilitarianism of the Darwin-Herbert +Spencer type. As such it is equally hostile to orthodox +Christianity or to orthodox Judaism.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_5"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>The attitude of the American colonies towards +the Jewish emigrants who came to them was the +very reverse of this. From the first settlements of +Jews in Newport, Charleston, Savannah, New +York, these exiles were allowed to take positions +of honor and affluence. There has never been a +Ghetto in American life, and the only Ghettos that +exist have been created fairly recently by housing +conditions and by the overcrowding of some of the +great Eastern cities. The Jews were among the +most prominent supporters of the American Revolution +itself; and there is irony as well as illumination +in the fact that the one man who may be said +with truth to have founded the Federal Union, +Alexander Hamilton, was possibly half a Jew.⁠<a id="FNanchor_2_2" href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> +The fact that America supplied a land of promise to +the Jew, from the days when Cromwell first tried +toleration down to the present, has been tacitly admitted +by the increasing tide of Jewish emigration +that has gone on from 1660 down to the present day. +<span class="pagenum" id="p_137">[137]</span>The one thing that has possibly restrained it has +been the fact that the Jews are no longer fitted for +an agricultural life, but are apt to become members +of those large-town mobs which Jefferson and +the other founders of the Republic so profoundly +hated, and which now represent so large a proportion +of American society. A few attempts were +made by the colonies at the beginning to keep the +franchise from the Jews; but apart from that fact, +there has been no organised opposition to Jewish +influence on the part of any class of the community +down to the close of the Great War.</p> + +<p>The result is that the Jews, indifferent to land, +have concentrated more and more on the element +which the early American neglected: the element of +power. The uprise of the Jewish power in America +took place during the great change from agricultural +to industrial life that coincided with the Civil +War and which developed into the famous “gilded +age” of the seventies. During that period the Jewish +community in the New World split into two +classes. The upper class became those who, through +the power conferred on them by wealth, grew more +and more closely allied to the dominant financier +class, and became thereby more and more closely +American, abandoning the two qualities that had +made them specifically Jewish: the intense particularism +of their creed which had made them consider +<span class="pagenum" id="p_138">[138]</span>themselves a race set apart by God, and the +not less intense determination to remain a separate +nation though exiled and scattered among other +nations. The lower class, increasing at a great rate +after 1880, when Alexander III began his long +reign of oppression in Russia, brought with them to +America nothing but an ingrown determination +to stay what they were: and it is only among them +that anywhere in America to-day one can find that +“mystic quality” that in the words of Waldo Frank, +makes the Jew what he is, and which once lost, +destroys his Judaism.</p> + +<p>The Reform Movement in Judaism, as a double +attack on the intolerant particularism of the Jewish +faith as the one faith blessed by God, and on the +sentiment of Jewish nationalism alike, owes its +success entirely to the support given by American +rabbis in 1885. The greater part of the wealth +of the American Jewish community has gone to the +support of Reform Judaism. That this form of the +Jewish faith is merely a transition stage, and unsatisfying +after all to the human desire to live within +the ordered limits of an absolute faith, which the +Jews have felt perhaps more profoundly than any +other people, is shown by the drift of many intelligent +and unworldly-minded adherents of reformed +Jews out of their faith into Christian Science, theosophy, +or any one of the dozens of fantastic cults that +<span class="pagenum" id="p_139">[139]</span>flourish in America. The only thing that Reform +Judaism has given the American Jew is a feeling +that his forefathers were on the wrong track, not +that he is on the right one. When his faith becomes +merely a local peculiarity, to be tolerated as any +other local peculiarity is tolerated, and no longer +<i>the</i> faith, sole, absolute, and eternal; when his citizenship +becomes not a question of kingship in Zion +but of possessing a vote and paying taxes to the +latest corrupt political gang that happens to be +governing America, then the Jew is alike homeless +and rudderless, an atom in the modern chaos. He +has no longer unified personality nor spiritual +power of any kind. He is only a cog in an immense +machine that does not move in any direction, but +which simply goes around and around, grinding +human lives and hopes to dust in the process.</p> + +<p>The paradox of American Judaism is that America, +by liberating the Jew, has completely destroyed +him. The paradox of Russian Judaism is that +Russia by oppressing the Jew, has only intensified +his original character. Zionism appeals to the Russian +Jew mainly, and it is largely through the support +of Russian Jewish colonisation that Zionism +is now being tried out in Palestine. The Russian +Jew in poverty has kept his legends, his folk poetry, +his contact with a mystic patrimony given him by +Moses. Moreover, the Russian revolution, with its +<span class="pagenum" id="p_140">[140]</span>consequent liberation of the Jew from the old constraint, +has enriched Russian literature with a new +strain of Jewish genius, reflected alike in such +works as Ansky’s “Dybbuk” and Babel’s “Horse +Army.” The American Jew on the other hand, to +the degree that he becomes more wealthy and powerful, +becomes less intellectual, and usually pretends +to despise his own people. One finds dozens of +Americans who quite obviously are racially of the +Semitic type, and who socially and religiously are +at but one remove from the faith of the Ghetto, +ready to assert their anti-Semitism. And even +among those who still retain some vestiges of respect +for the attitude of their forefathers, one finds an increasing +disposition to mingle in the ranks of +Gentile society, and to handle facetiously the topic +of their own race and religion, as if it represented +only a passing craze of the remote past, which they +have fortunately outgrown. As regards imagination, +they tend increasingly to respect the shibboleths +of American business life.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_4"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>The attitude of the average American, the “one +hundred per center” of the middle west and the industrial +east, who is and must remain the backbone +of America culturally and socially, towards the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_141">[141]</span>Jewish phenomenon, has considerably varied during +the most recent years. To this average individual +nothing has mattered since the Civil War, so long +as the country remained prosperous. So long as his +land bore “bumper crops,” capable of being sold at +high prices, so long as the “melting pot,” by laying +the stress on the Jew’s adaptability, went on functioning +properly, and transforming mediæval mystics +and fanatics into modern business men, all was +well; no thinking about the future was necessary. +It is natural to the American temperament—a “free +soil” temperament long before Lincoln’s day—having +linked up land and liberty as it has done, not +to wish to worry about the future, not to do any +more thinking than is absolutely necessary. Thinking +is indeed dangerous. It may lead to a suspicion +that the Revolution was a mistake and that the +Constitution was only a new form of tyranny. +America’s awakening in this respect to a whole +world of intimate problems that she must settle, +came for the most part, only after President Wilson +told his people that they must enter the World War. +And then America suddenly realised that the Jews +had a great deal of power as well as a great deal +of cleverness, and were likely to use both for ends +that were far from being “one hundred per cent” +American.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_142">[142]</span></p> + +<p>The resultant wave of anti-Semitism that swept +the United States was something practically unique +in American history. There had been before outbreaks +of anti-Jewish feeling, notably in some of +the Southern States, but nothing of this nationwide +character. From mob-outrages engineered by +the revived Ku Klux Klan to the declaration of +lofty Harvard University that it proposed to limit +the number of Jewish students, the campaign of +hatred swept the country for a few months, and +then dissolved in a gale of laughter. It represented +nothing fundamental to the American character and +temperament. It undoubtedly arose from a feeling +of suspicion that the cunning Jew might intellectually +be opposed to the American Constitution, which +is considered as the sacrosanct basis of American +faith, much as the Egyptian “Book of the Dead” +was considered the sacrosanct basis of Egyptian +faith. Moreover, the Jew might secretly be in sympathy +with some of the dangerous anarchistic or +other radical doctrines that had recently come into +such prominence, thanks to America’s deep-rooted +and insuperable objection to the war. The coming +and passing of this momentary wave of anti-Semitic +sentiment coincided curiously in date and duration +with the period during which Russia, having cast +off her old values and not yet settled in her new +<span class="pagenum" id="p_143">[143]</span>ones, elevated many Jews, who happened to be +members of the victorious Communist party, to +power.</p> + + +<h4 id="4_3"> + 4 +</h4> + +<p>The case is quite different when we come to the +Catholics. Successive Russian sovereigns from +Catherine the Great who offered asylum to the +expelled Jesuits, down to the present day have +shown partiality to the Catholic faith; and to this +day the Bolsheviks, in their war on religion, have +left the Catholic church largely undisturbed, hoping +perhaps to gain recruits to atheism out of the conflict +between the rival sects of Catholic and Orthodox.⁠<a id="FNanchor_3_3" href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> +This toleration of Catholicism was formerly +partly due to the fact that in Poland and Livonia, +the Czar ruled over thousands of Catholics; partly +to the law that forbade anyone born in the Orthodox +faith to become a convert, on penalty of exile and +loss of estate. But in America a passionately +intolerant anti-Catholic feeling has existed since, +at least, the New England Colonies opposed James +II and his nominee, Andros, and has known numerous +revivals since the “Native American” movement +began opposing the extension of the franchise +to the Irish immigrant back in the thirties. +<span class="pagenum" id="p_144">[144]</span>Economically and socially it has persisted, and even +spread from New England to the south and west. +This anti-Catholic feeling provides the basic +strength of the recent post-war revival of the Ku +Klux Klan. And during the period while this book +was being written, its strength was again successfully +tested in an important presidential contest.</p> + +<p>The fundamental American feeling about Catholicism +is that it forms, politically an <i>imperium in +imperio</i>; that by its insistence on parochial schools, +instead of the usual public schools, by its establishment +of convents, monasteries, church-owned +foundations, everywhere, it becomes an extra-political +power, secret in its methods, ready to invade +the United States from within and seize the +better part of her domain. This belief (whether it +has any foundation in fact or not is not material to +this inquiry) has been largely strengthened by the +extraordinary solidarity of the Catholic communities +in the industrial regions, composed as they +are, mainly of toiling foreigners; and by the redoubtable +power of ecclesiasticisms further southward, +in Mexico. Whether this feeling about the +Catholic church is destined to disappear—now that +Mexico has an anti-clerical government, and even +the Vatican itself has taken on a Republican tone—is, +for the moment, uncertain; but there is no possibility +of writing an intelligent history of America +<span class="pagenum" id="p_145">[145]</span>without reference to its existence. A profound distrust +of Catholicism as a secret body subversive of +Americanism has again and again shown itself to be +a mainspring of American middle-class action. It +explains a very great deal that is highly popular in +America, from the flourishing condition of freemasonry +and other semi-secret societies, down to +the zeal for closing the saloons, which were favourite +meeting places for that purely Irish and Catholic +creation, the ward politicians. Now and again, as in +the “Native American” movement above mentioned, +the later “Know-Nothing” movement, the cry +“Rum, Romanism, and Rebellion,” the revived Ku +Klux Klan, the opposition to Governor Smith, it +shows itself openly in the field of political life.</p> + +<p>The complete reason for the toleration of Catholicism +under Czar and Bolshevik alike, in Russia, in +the very heart of a community that in numbers at +least has been openly the chief rampart of Eastern +Orthodoxy for centuries, and for the mistrust of the +same faith shown in America, despite the fact that +America can boast of a large percentage of Catholics, +can only be discovered by examining more fully +the underlying attitude of the Russian and the +American to all religion. It suffices to say here +that, to the American, Republicanism, that is to say +the liberty gained by local prosperity and by complete +ownership of one’s own property, is more +<span class="pagenum" id="p_146">[146]</span>important than any other form of religion; while +under successive Russian governments, Autocracy, +rooted in communal feeling, and in unworldly +faith, has since the time of Peter the Great at least, +directed religion towards the ends it proposed for +itself. It is the considered opinion of most intelligent +observers that the Bolshevik government, in +this respect, has acted precisely as the governments +that preceded it. It has warped religion to its own +ends; or, rather, it has created an altogether new +religion out of a few phrases of Marx and the life +and example of Lenin. It is a mummified body—Lenin +from his mausoleum in the Red Square—that +rules Russia to-day. After all, did he not wear a +peasant’s cap, and did he not order electric light to +be extended to every village, besides giving the +common workman bread, peace, and liberty? The +cult of Lenin as a new saint, or rather as a new +Messiah, has some curious sides. But the most +curious side of all is to note how little distinguishes +this figure from the celebrated figure of Christ +wandering as “a serf throughout the Russian land, +blessing it,” that so much inspired the early Slavophils. +Meantime the Central Presidium of the +Soviet—the new Autocrats of Russia—having +achieved this version of Orthodoxy, uses its power +to persecute successfully the followers of every +former religion.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_147">[147]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_VII"> + Chapter VII + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>There is a certain obvious parallel between +religion in North America and religion in +Russia, because both countries are, and have been, +for centuries, fundamentally Christian. Yet the +dissimilarities on the face of it, are so manifest that +it might seem to a visitor from another planet that +the religious life of the two countries sprang from +sources as opposed as the religion, let us say, of +Ancient Egypt and Ancient Assyria. What +American Christianity accepts, Russian Christianity +rejects, and vice versa.</p> + +<p>In both lands, Christianity came from without, +and was an entirely foreign creed to the animism +practised by the natives before its advent. But +where American Christianity emerged from what +has been called Protestantism, that is to say the +right of the individual to decide on questions of faith +for himself, Russian religion came from the Orthodoxy +of the Byzantine church, with its submission +of the individual intelligence to a super-personal, +wonder-working power transmitted by consecration +from patriarch to patriarch. The differences in +<span class="pagenum" id="p_148">[148]</span>form and outward observance all spring from an +inner difference in psychological attitude. To the +American, the soul of the individual believer is alone +important, and his salvation is the one desirable +aim; to the Russian the communion of believers is +alone important, and the individual soul only retains +his hold on salvation by virtue of his complete +adherence and loyalty to it. Consequently in +America, religion exalts the moral standard of the +individual good life; in Russia it upholds the spiritual +standard of the communal believing life. The +one exalts conduct, the other faith.</p> + +<p>It has not escaped the notice of shrewd historians +that the American makes a constant attempt to +prove that his great men were intensely moral and +respectable in character. Washington is exalted +above Jefferson on the basis of a few legends like +that of the cherry tree or the other story, not less +unhistorical, to the effect that the great Revolutionary +leader prayed at Valley Forge. Paine, who +by his inspired polemic probably did more to precipitate +the Revolution than any other publicist of +the time, is tacitly ignored as being “a dirty little +atheist.” Recently, attempts have been made to +show that Lincoln was exaltedly religious; attempts +that rest on exceedingly flimsy foundations. And if +Woodrow Wilson maintains any favour in America, +it will be rather because of his unbending Presbyterianism +<span class="pagenum" id="p_149">[149]</span>than because of his eminent ability as a +statesman. It is because Roosevelt, his great rival, +upheld the motto of “Fear God and take your own +part” and led the life of the normal husband and +father, that he is immensely popular among millions +of his fellow-countrymen to-day.</p> + +<p>The Russians go to the exactly opposite extreme. +Their heroes are precisely those whose lives were +heroic examples of disregard of moral conduct. +Ivan the Terrible, blood-soaked, sensual, and incapable +of achieving any faith beyond the basest +superstition; Peter the Great, mocking the church-ceremonies +with drunken parody, making and unmaking +patriarchs, the accursed Antichrist of the +Old Believers; Pugachev, the outlaw who despoiled +nobles and monasteries alike; Tolstoy, the great +heretic and excommunicate, such are the sort of men +Russia unconsciously honours. Against them the +Church can put nothing in the field but a handful of +monks and thaumaturgists.</p> + +<p>That morals can be separated from faith has +been consistently denied throughout the history of +European Christianity, by some of the most intelligent +men that European Christianity has produced. +Whether this denial is valid or not, there can be no +doubt that Nature in itself is morally indifferent, +just as it is æsthetically indifferent. One can, unfortunately, +believe in life without believing in any +<span class="pagenum" id="p_150">[150]</span>specific moral code; and the result is that what we +call Christianity has been divided into warring +sects, those that exalt the observance of the feasts +and sacraments prescribed by the Church above +moral discipline, and those that exalt the achievement +of lofty moral character above all feasts and +ceremonies. The former in the main, is the way +taken by Russia; the latter the way taken by +America. In Russia one asks first whether so-and-so +is a believer or an atheist; in America whether +so-and-so is or is not “a good man.”</p> + + +<h4 id="2_6"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>Every religious system (not excluding polytheism) +defines Godhead now in terms of outward +nature, now in terms of man’s own inner comprehension +of himself. Religion is the meeting-place +of objective fact and subjective psychology; it is +therefore the most comprehensive and at the same +time the least definable of all human activities. +Until we understand this fact we are in the position +of a great many nineteenth century free-thinkers, +who for the life of them could not understand why +people should want to make such a pother about +religion when they could build factories instead of +cathedrals, and amass worldly wealth instead of +seeking for the kingdom of heaven. To such people, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_151">[151]</span>religion in itself seemed too childish and unprogressive +to be considered important. As a +matter of fact, it was precisely these nineteenth +century materialists and unbelievers who were +childish in their faith in human progress, as the +Great War proved.</p> + +<p>Religion, in its most complete sense, might +almost be defined as the “most complex and mature +attitude it is possible to take towards reality.” +This attitude comes from a fusion of all our faculties: +animal as well as intellectual, moral as well as +æsthetic, individual as well as social; organised on +the plane of the individual will. This fusion combines +the boundless and at bottom irrational faith +in life that must guide us if we are to live at all, +with the limited and rational faith in a common +moral code of conduct. It is because of this combination +of opposites that religion exists in some +measure, even among the irreligious; while the most +highly religious being only achieves it imperfectly. +It attempts to reconcile both the absolute and the +relative, the single individual’s relation to the infinite, +with man’s whole relation to society.</p> + +<p>From such a standpoint, both Russia and +America have been incompletely religious. In the +one case, religion has relied altogether on its thaumaturgic +power over nature. One gets an impression, +from reading much Russian history, that the whole +<span class="pagenum" id="p_152">[152]</span>people have spent most of their lives for centuries +in making pilgrimages, praying to icons, visiting +monasteries, crying “Christ is risen!” on each successive +Easter Day, despite the fact they were living +all the time in inimitable dirt, disorder, oppression, +and misery. Russian literature, being, for the +most part, an intellectual revolt against the pre-intellectual +instinct that dictated these practices, +and aiming also for the most part at a source of +power that is far beyond the grasp of religious semi-magic +ritual, has largely disregarded these plain +obvious facts, but they remain in history. When +we read that in Catherine the Great’s day, the Moscow +mob raised riots because the government proposed +to remove from its place a celebrated wonder-working +image of the Madonna,⁠<a id="FNanchor_4_4" href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> at the foot of +which the people were dying of cholera in heaps; +when we read that, in the revolution of 1905, one of +the heroes was Father Gapon who led the starving +and striking mob into the square before the Winter +Palace, and bade them kneel there, where they were +promptly shot down by the Czar’s troops (it later +transpired that Father Gapon was an <i>agent provocateur</i> +in government employment); when we read +of the enormous prestige of Rasputin, then we realise +that to every Russian religion is something vast, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_153">[153]</span>mysterious, miracle-working. Only Dostoevsky has +brought out this quality of the Russian mind; his +great work, “The Brothers Karamazov,” essentially +defines the attitude towards God of all its characters. +And God is primarily to all, power, a force +divorced from good or bad alike, that which will +give each of these characters the desires of his own +heart. Even old Karamazov, monster of immorality +that he is and incapable of any redeeming action, +in this sense worships God.</p> + +<p>One is even more impressed at this emphasis on +the magic power of religion made by the Russian +mind, when one realises that the Church not only +blessed the fields, agricultural implements and +cattle of the peasants in the past, but also, according +to Tolstoy, the government-owned vodka factories +and the brothels. So strong was the feeling +that religion gave to its professors a power of superhuman +and super-moral healing and blessing, that +a Rasputin could under the cloak of religion, carry +on his shameless erotic practices undisturbed. The +feeling that everything in religion was necessarily +sacrosanct, accounts also for the rise of the Old +Believers, who could not accept Peter the Great’s +and the Patriarch Nikon’s reform of the spelling +of the Church books. The Church, even in its errors, +was so much above the world that the world must +not interfere with it. The Word of the Church was +<span class="pagenum" id="p_154">[154]</span>sacred, and must be held so at whatever cost to +logic.</p> + +<p>The typical Russian peasant would therefore +have agreed with Blake that “everything that lives +is holy” without adding thereto the corollary that +the tradition of the Church was not a living thing, +but was merely a dead tradition stifling the free +spirit of independent inquiry. And even the thorough-going +attack on religion and the Orthodox +Church engineered by the Bolsheviks, has partaken +of the same fanatic faith in the magic power of +rites and phrases. The body of Lenin was substituted +for saints and icons; and faith in Marxian +formulas took the place of faith in Church ceremonies. +We will not understand Bolshevism if we +continue to think it irreligious. In all essentials +it is simply a new religion—or if one prefers, a new +heresy. It is rooted in the same fanatic faith in +magic practices that the Russian mind has everywhere +displayed, from the time that Ivan the Great +spoke of the <i>pallium</i> of Rome being transferred to +Moscow.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_5"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>We are accustomed to think of America as primarily +the land of religious toleration; but we are +apt to forget that this toleration was only born +after nearly a century of complete intolerance, in +<span class="pagenum" id="p_155">[155]</span>which New England itself, then at the head of +American colonial effort, took the lead. The +American historian, Brooks Adams, in his “Emancipation +of Massachusetts,” has given us a useful +summary of this period, dating from the foundation +of the Massachusetts Colony down the eve +of the Revolution; and has shown us how the +founders of New England, Endicott, Winthrop, +and the rest, aimed at a thorough-going theocracy +which would permit neither religious dissent nor +liberty of conscience. The tale of executions, whippings, +imprisonments, outrages and threats executed +upon unfortunate Antinomians, Quakers, +Episcopalians, and other sects dissenting from the +“established faith” of New England Congregationalism +makes painful reading.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, American toleration rests +and always has rested on respect for established +property rights. The Puritans who founded New +England had obtained a charter from the King +enabling them to make a settlement in Massachusetts +territory. They constrained this to mean that +no other opposing Protestant sect would be allowed +either to enter or to preach in their territory; +while the Catholics in Maryland, the Episcopalians +in Virginia behaved not very differently. Their +religion became to them the symbol of their possessions—possessions +that they guarded jealously not +<span class="pagenum" id="p_156">[156]</span>less against all Indian attempts to recover them, +but against Royal and Parliamentary interference +alike. The result was that it was only such sentimental +deists as Jefferson, or such sentimental +Quakers as Franklin, who realised the necessity +for toleration. They were in a minority. To most +Americans religious toleration has been but a phrase +for moral intolerance.</p> + +<p>To this day in America, great educational +foundations which enjoy enormous endowments, +prestige, and power, are outwardly identified with +certain religious sects. Nothing can be taught in +them except what these sects prescribe as “moral.” +To the traveller in America, interested in education, +it is often puzzling to be told that such and +such a university has a chapel to which all students +are compelled to go, although they may subscribe +to some totally different religious creed. Thus +Princeton is Presbyterian; Yale, Congregational; +the University of Chicago, Baptist; Vanderbilt and +dozens of other southern colleges, Methodist; and +so on. The non-sectarian college or university is +the exception, rather than the rule. And that is +because religion and moral teaching go hand in +hand.</p> + +<p>The American, it must be understood, maintains +the attitude of complete inner spiritual liberty only +at the price of outward moral conformity. In this +<span class="pagenum" id="p_157">[157]</span>respect he stands at precisely the opposite pole to +the Russian, whose steady maintenance of inner +spiritual obedience is frequently belied by furious +outward revolts in the direction of complete moral +license. Each has one half of a religion and each +neglects the fact that every lasting religious body is +a great compromise between the external and internal +character of man, representing alike an outward +discipline and an inner assent. To the American +the assent is all that matters, not the discipline. +Thus even so respectable a member of the Catholic +faith as Governor Alfred Smith of New York could +recently declare that he believed in the complete +separation of the Church and State, and assert that +the Church had no right to interfere with politics, +without realising that in thus upholding the private +assent of the citizen above all religious discipline, he +completely destroyed the ancient Roman Catholic +opposition to right of private judgment and thereby +fully justified the long revolt of Protestantism.</p> + +<p>In such a state as America presents to the world, +religion becomes a question not of “By what power +is God going to save me?” but of “How am I to +behave, so as to do right?” This question lies at +the root of the American conscience. If England +is, as Frenchmen have said, the land of moral fog, +America is the land of moral blindness. It has +not escaped foreign observers that America is ruled +<span class="pagenum" id="p_158">[158]</span>by sermons and by preachers. Here, indeed, American +literature has little to reveal to us, as Russian +literature has little to say about peasant superstitions +concerning icons and saints’ days.⁠<a id="FNanchor_5_5" href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> But +from Jonathan Edwards to Channing, from Channing +to Henry Ward Beecher, from Beecher down +to the recent Billy Sunday and Aimee McPherson, +all America—vulgar as well as intelligent—waits +every Sunday morning on its favourite preacher in +order to obtain moral guidance for the ensuing +week in its affairs. The sermon is to the American +what the sacrament and the benediction is to the +Russian—a special talisman, something enabling +him to carry on his life, get his business done, clear +up his relations with women, regulate his activity. +Hence the enormous popularity in recent America +of sermons dealing with the conduct of one’s business. +Hence the upholding of Jesus and the Apostles +as typical “go-getters” and even efficiency +experts; the culmination of which is in such a recent +book as “The Man Nobody Knows” where Christ +becomes the prototype of the typical American +advertisement agent!</p> + +<p>The typical American therefore conceives of +everyone as being “free and equal” in Jefferson’s +phrase without adding thereto the corollary that +everyone should be free to behave as it pleases him. +<span class="pagenum" id="p_159">[159]</span>On the contrary, the more you meddle with your +neighbour’s conduct the better for both him and +you. The Americans tend more and more to substitute +“uplift” in the place of religion—and the +hankerings of the mystically-minded (mostly the +least literate and least economically independent, +therefore the least powerful) among them, pass +unheard. Most Americans would readily subscribe +to Mark Twain’s dictum that man is “worthless +unless he is regulated,” and far from agreeing with +Matthew Arnold that conduct is three-fourths of +life, they would make conduct all of it. The belief +that has emerged out of such a creed, resolutely +held, may be briefly summarised as a faith that the +increase of business, higher wages, and more prosperity +on the American model will definitely save +the world. This belief has already its apostles, chief +of whom is perhaps Henry Ford. It, like Bolshevism, +is a heresy, which we must nevertheless +reckon with as America’s chief contribution to the +solution of the great religious problem which vexes +the world. Instead of demanding that the oppressed +proletarians everywhere must unite to conquer +the world, it says simply, “Make your fortune +quick. In prosperity lies happiness.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_160">[160]</span></p> + + +<h4 id="4_4"> + 4 +</h4> + +<p>It is impossible to leave this subject of religion +and of America’s and Russia’s peculiar angle of +approach to it, without some reference to the +reciprocal influence America and Russia have had +on religion as practised in Europe. For both countries +obtained their religions ultimately from this +source, though in the one case it was Byzantine +Orthodoxy that was borrowed, while on the other, +it was Puritanic Northern Protestantism.</p> + +<p>To the average American any European form +of religion is not good enough. He demands a +standard of conduct that is morally speaking, +egalitarian. What shocks him in religion as practised +in European countries is its disregard of the +standards of living that he is accustomed to at +home. The picturesque dirt and disorder of Italian +lazzaroni, Spanish beggars, the promiscuity of +English slums, the grossness of German or Dutch +peasants—all this shocks him as a manifestation of +moral blindness. He would gladly see all these +peoples washed, sanitated, above all made literate: +his own respect for “law and order,” shown in the +popularity of sermons, is proof of this. The ideal +of useful citizenship which he maintains as substitute +for the mystic experience of Godhead, or the +no less mystic experience of repentance and reconciliation, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_161">[161]</span>makes him intolerant of any creed that +refrains from interference with the individual. His +insistence upon moral conduct has made him frequently +uncharitable to his own neighbours—as +anyone who has lived for long in an American +small town can testify. This uncharitableness he +extends in even fuller measure to the stranger +within and without his gates. The hordes of +European immigrants that come into his own country, +the hosts of unwashed and unregenerate +foreigners without are not respectable—they do +not regulate their lives by his standards. His solution +of the problem upholds a great hope, but it is +a hope without charity.</p> + +<p>The average Russian, on the other hand, looks +on European religion as deficient not in goodness, +but in truth. Catholicism has merely become a +branch of state-service, and Protestantism is too +deeply tainted with moral hypocrisy. But what is +important to the Russian to know is this; whether +it is true that by any sacrament, prayer, or magic +ritual men become united to God? Is it true that +Christ really did rise from the dead for all mankind +and manifests himself to them? Then let us +make trial of that possibility. In the days before +the downfall of the Romanovs, thousands of Russian +peasants annually made the pilgrimage to +Palestine, and thought themselves lucky if they died +<span class="pagenum" id="p_162">[162]</span>on the banks of the Jordan, believing that by this +magic act they would be immediately transported +to Paradise, whatever their previous sins. And the +whole basis of Dostoevsky’s teaching, and to a great +extent that of Tchekhov and Tolstoy, was that +“everything must be forgiven.” The whole of Russia +demanded a miracle, and perhaps it was because +the Bolsheviks promised such a miracle, that Russia +accepted the Bolsheviks. Above all the miracle +must come from without, and the Bolsheviks came +from abroad bringing with them a new gospel. +That was enough to convince millions who were +utterly unprepared to accept the historic materialism, +or the opposition to religion that lay at the root +of Bolshevik teaching. The question the Russian +continually asks—even the most open and avowed +atheist among them asks it—is, by what means can +man obtain the superhuman power to make himself +akin to God? The Russian, in his desire for power, +is willing to disregard every standard of ordinary +moral conduct in order to become united to Godhead. +The American, in his insistence on the +Mosaic code which is motivated almost altogether +by respect for property, is willing to take up the +most intolerant Puritanism, rather than suffer interference +with his property. Unlike the American +creed of moral conformity to the community for +the sake of material gain, the Russian religion has +<span class="pagenum" id="p_163">[163]</span>infinite charity to the sinner, despises the wealth of +the world, and produces outlaws, anarchists, schismatics +continually. That is why to the Russian +mind of to-day, a few words of Karl Marx or of +Darwin may become equally important as a Gospel +as anything in the Bible; it equally explains why +to the American mind of to-day, a Bruce Barton +or a Billy Sunday are of superior importance to +Saint Augustine or the Apostles.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_164">[164]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_VIII"> + Chapter VIII + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>The difference in attitude which the Russians +and the Americans have displayed in regard +to faith and moral conduct—a difference which +rests, as we have shown, on a power-property antithesis—corresponds +also to a not less illuminating +difference in the field of intellectual speculation, +and the fine arts generally. Neither country, it +may be noted, took any part in the intellectual and +social movement that is known as the Renaissance. +The average Russian of the ruling landowning +aristocracy, was violently thrown from the Middle +Ages into the state politics of post-Reformation +Europe, thanks to Peter the Great’s reforms. The +average American of the ruling New England +mercantile caste began as post-Reformation Puritan +of the English type, and steadily moved away +from his early European environment into a primitive +background of local politics that recalls the +quarrels of the early Greek city-states.</p> + +<p>Intellectual contact with Europe was begun and +kept up at two removes in each case. In Russia as +we shall see, European romanticism, in its cult of +<span class="pagenum" id="p_165">[165]</span>the Gothic and feudal, was the most powerful influence +in precipitating a national literature; in +America the same contact was kept up through the +influence of the English eighteenth century moralists, +such writers as Addison, Goldsmith, Dr. Johnson, +Pope, finding abundant imitators and followers +in the Colonies.</p> + +<p>Before the problems of Europe, and indeed the +problems of the world generally, the Russian is +likely to ask the question, “Why is this?” while the +American asks the question, “How did it come +about?” It is obvious that both questions are necessary, +and both are justified at their proper time and +place. The normal, untaught human being, before +undertaking any action, customarily and humanly +asks “Why?” His interest is primarily in +the value of an action as such, not in the means +whereby it is to be performed. Then when he has +decided on performing the action, he is able to ask +“How?” and thereby acquire the full technique +necessary to accomplish it. But the untaught Russian, +by asking “Why?” after, as well as before, +undertaking action, simply fosters his own attitude +of nihilism and inertia; and that the Russian has +literally to be driven into action by intolerable circumstances, +and then generally goes too far, is the +chief lesson to be derived from the perusal of Russian +history. The American, on the other hand, by +<span class="pagenum" id="p_166">[166]</span>asking simply “How?” without examining beforehand +the value of the act or its consequences, acquires +a superior technical and executive skill at the +expense of his ability to sort out what is worth +undertaking from what is less worth undertaking. +Neither regard “Why?” and “How?” as somehow +complementary; neither are capable of the ordered +development of investigation into causes combined +with study of technique that goes on in European +cultured circles.</p> + +<p>The question “Why?” as opposed to the question +“How?” when applied to life in the way that the +Russians and the Americans apply them, leads, it +is obvious, to diametrically opposing results. The +Russian in his eagerness to find the underlying +cause of every phenomenon, is apt to act, if at all, +for a bewildering multiplicity of reasons; ranging +from the desire to reform the world, or the desire +to ensure his personal salvation, down to the mere +desire to create mischief or relieve himself from +boredom (like the heroes of Dostoevsky’s “Memories +from the Underground” and Sologub’s “Little +Demon.”) The American, in his hope to master +the technique of every possible form of human +activity, is apt to apply his question, “How is this +done?” to a bewildering multiplicity of ends. So +much is this the case, that nothing is commoner in +American life than to find men who drift from one +<span class="pagenum" id="p_167">[167]</span>profession to another without mastering any. This +is markedly the case even in American literature: +Emerson transferred his activities from those of the +pulpit to those of essay-writing; Mark Twain was +pilot, gold-prospector, and author; Hawthorne and +Melville were custom-house clerks, in their spare +time, and so on—without any apparent loss of individuality. +The versatility of the American mind, +and its ability to turn from one thing to another, is +perhaps its most outstanding quality.</p> + +<p>This technical versatility not only explains America’s +undoubted primacy in the field of public +works and of engineering, but it also provides an +explanation for the complete lack of moral sense +now and then shown by Americans; a lack which, +on the face of it, strongly contradicts the lip-service +which America still largely pays to the Mosaic and +the Puritan code. Take for example, the notorious +murder which agitated the American press a few +years ago, when two youths, undoubtedly responsible +for the murder of a friend, declared they had +done it as an experiment, in order to see how it felt +to be a murderer! These youths were only carrying +to its logical extreme a tendency far too common +in American life as a whole. The leading +impulse of the American is to want to try something, +to start something, to play at being something. +It is for this reason that so many Americans +<span class="pagenum" id="p_168">[168]</span>start in life as desiring to be authors or artists, only +to find the attempt far beyond their capacity, and +to realise later that they are better equipped as +business men. For technical capacity alone, divorced +from all preoccupation with ulterior aims, +tends merely to exalt the executive faculties above +the creative; it helps to make the majority of men +into business men. The creative artist, equipped +as he is with the imagination that concerns itself +primarily with elemental cause and effect, learns +his difficult technique by mastering the resources +of his given material. The business man denying +as he does any underlying purpose in himself or +others except the purpose of making profits, applies +to the whole of human life the prevailing standard +of an easy and simple technique. And because this +technique is simple and easily acquired, it becomes +increasingly popular, so that the development of +the arts and culture suffers from lack of those who +will apply themselves to them.</p> + +<p>It is for this reason that American life appears +so standardized to foreign observers. This standardization +is due to the fact that very few Americans +are concerned with the question of the thing +to be done, and most are concerned with the question +of the technique of doing; and the simplest and +easiest technique to master in America is that of +making money. As regards the value of the money, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_169">[169]</span>once made, Americans have no more conception of +that than they have of the value of most things. In +their lavishness and prodigality, they deserve to be +called, for the most part, the spendthrift nation of +the world. But having mastered the technique that +is appropriate to their position as inhabitants of an +economically prosperous country, they are as yet +unwilling to master the technique that would make +them great in other fields. And this concentration +on the technique of money-making which has led to +so much of America’s standardization—and incidentally +also to so much of its recent crime and +moral callousness—is powerfully upheld by the +present mechanical industrial epoch, with its decline +in handicrafts, and the opportunities it offers to any +business man to become the possessor, simply by +buying a few specimens, of the best that the art of +the past has already produced. It is for this reason +that the average American tourist sees in Europe, +not Europe’s intensely persistent energy, nor the +vitality of her ideas, nor the continual conflict between +tradition and innovation, but only her cash +value as a market for antiques.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_7"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>The Russian attempt to find a single central idea +to explain the universe, leads naturally to the exaggerated +<span class="pagenum" id="p_170">[170]</span>respect in which the Orthodox Church has +been and is still largely held among a great many +Russians—a respect which it took a Tolstoy to +question, and which far surpasses the respect shown +to the Roman Catholic Church even in the most +Catholic countries. For the Orthodox Church represented +a central idea, hallowed by tradition, and +fortified by all the apparatus of miracle-working +superstition. Most of Russian literature has been, +however, the product of minds that are, consciously +or unconsciously, in revolt from the Orthodox idea, +and determined to find a central idea outside of +it, in some reconciliation with European tradition, +or in some reversion to Asiatic atavism. In this +respect it is perfectly just to apply to the whole +Russian intelligentsia class the epithet that Dostoevsky +applied to the Western wing of it, the +epithet of “uprooted.”</p> + +<p>This uprootedness, this inability to find a fixed +centre, leads not only to the fantastic nihilism of +much Russian literature and thought, but to its +prevailing tone of tension and cruelty. It is a +common complaint among European readers that +Russian literature is morbid and gloomy. This +complaint is, however, ill-founded. A reading of +such European pessimists as Lucretius, Leopardi, +Schopenhauer, or Thomas Hardy, reveals depths +of accepted despair unknown to the Russian soul. +<span class="pagenum" id="p_171">[171]</span>But Russian literature and thought is intensely +direct and cruel, as all great metaphysical dialectic +is cruel. The monstrous pantheon of Indian divinities +and the pessimistic nihilism of the Upanishads +is something not foreign to the Russian, as it is +foreign to the European mind. Above all, Russian +thought tends to display itself in startling +contrast; to paint in bright, glaring primary colors. +Here we have again an Oriental trait, and a +strongly marked one. There are few nuances in +Russian literature, and the writers who showed +themselves masters of the nuance are, like Tchekhov +and Turgenev, more highly appreciated abroad +than at home.</p> + +<p>American literature and thought, on the other +hand, being largely concerned with technique, is +apt to respond not to the idea, but to the formula. +The figure of Sam Slick, the Yankee clockmaker +and peddler, who certainly never thought for one +moment whether clocks were of much use to his +customers, but who knew all about how they were +made, and could take them apart and put them +together better than anyone, inevitably recurs to +the memory when we try to envisage the typical +American mind. How much of American political +theory and activity, North and South, how much +of the truly American passion for local laws, state +and city ordinances, constitutional amendments, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_172">[172]</span>legal innovations, has been due to this passion for +meddling and tinkering—to this intensive study of +technique! And the same passion reappears in the +field of literature. In this respect the figure of Poe +is particularly noteworthy. We can scarcely classify +Poe as one of the greatest forces in American +literature, because philosophically he had nothing +whatever to say that had not already been said before +him by the English romantics and the New +England transcendentalists. But if we regard him +as a virtuoso pure and simple, a virtuoso of technique, +he immediately becomes perhaps the most +important of all American authors. Poe was so +intensely concerned with technique and technique +alone, that he broke new literary ground in half-a-dozen +different directions, without saying anything +essentially new. He developed the lyrical +refrain to a point unknown before his day. In +“Ulalume” and “The Raven” he practically invented +symbolism. He transformed the experimentally +onomatopœic prose of De Quincey into +the perfect prose poem. He invented the detective +story. In his “Voyage of Arthur Gordon Pym” +and other pseudo-scientific tales, he became the +father of the scientific phantasy later developed by +H. G. Wells, Jules Verne, and others. In his +“Eureka,” he even tried to reconcile scientific cosmogony +and myth-making—a daring attempt that +<span class="pagenum" id="p_173">[173]</span>had to wait till the post-Einstein period before it +found imitators. It was this despised American +hack whom most of the New England leaders of +thought considered as a charlatan, who became the +technical teacher of the whole generation of later +symbolists and æsthetes in France and England; +just as it was the purely moral and non-technical +influence of Tolstoy that helped to produce much +of the anti-æsthetic literature of the ‘social document’ +type (Zola, Romain Rolland), later throughout +Europe.</p> + +<p>Poe was, however, not the only example of an +American author concerned with formulæ. The +prevalence of manner over matter may be observed +in most American authors, and becomes overwhelmingly +important when we turn from the field of +literature proper to the field of public debate and +political oratory. This field has been practically +unknown in Russia, thanks to the activities of the +censorship, and the general suppression of free +speech, but such documents as have come down to +us, such as for example, Dostoevsky’s celebrated +Pushkin speech, or Lenin’s speeches, do not reveal +any very great oratorical ability. Compare them +with the rolling periods of Webster or even with +such comparatively simple efforts as Lincoln’s +Gettysburg address, and the contrast is flagrant. +The difference is that the Russian makes only a +<span class="pagenum" id="p_174">[174]</span>single vast generalisation, that the Russian is omni-human +in destiny and is appointed by God to +reconcile all the nations of the earth, and attempts +to illustrate it prosaically by carefully chosen selections +from Pushkin’s or Marx’s works.</p> + +<p>But in the case of Webster, or of the Gettysburg +Address, the whole speech is more or less a tissue +of highly poetical generalisations. Specific argument +there is little or none—the less the better. +The influence of such oratory in its substitution of +the telling phrase, the resounding but intellectually +empty statement, upon social life in America is +much more vast than can ever be imagined by most +Europeans, and has been an almost unmixed evil. +Its pernicious effects were again seen in the recent +tragedy of President Wilson when confronted with +the realities of the European situation, and the still +more obvious, but lesser known, tragedy of the +whole public and private career of the late William +Jennings Bryan. This oratorical temperament +which is so common in America, attempts to heal +profound and rooted differences of race, religion, +politics, society, by the application of a few telling +phrases, a handful of brilliant slogans. The few +great public speakers that Russia has produced, +such as Lenin, have made no such fatal mistake. +Their efforts, however lacking in the wholly technical +<span class="pagenum" id="p_175">[175]</span>qualities that sweep audiences off their feet, +were masterpieces of close realistic, <i>terre-à-terre</i> +argument.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_6"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>America has already had three well-marked cultural +and intellectual periods, each followed by a +corresponding decline. The first—if we exclude, +as we have a right to do, the stirrings of intellectual +life in the Mathers and other purely colonial figures—began +about the middle of the eighteenth century, +culminated in the Revolution, and produced its last +figures in Irving and Cooper. It was predominantly +political and rationalistic. The second, beginning +about 1840, the year before the publication +of Emerson’s first series of Essays, reached its +climax in the years immediately preceding the Civil +War, and died away in the seventies. It was romantic +and sentimental. The third, stirring the dry +bones of respectability with the wind of a new +realism about 1890, is still continuing at the present +day. In each case, the movement towards culture +was halted by an external war, and dissolved later +in a period of growing financial prosperity. The +first period came to a full close by 1830, though +Irving and Cooper were to survive it; the second +stage was virtually at an end in 1875, when the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_176">[176]</span>growing power of industrialism took the stage, +challenging Emerson, Whitman and Melville; the +third epoch may have already reached its culmination +in the years following on the Great War. In +each case, the successful wars in which America engaged, +the Revolution and the War of 1812, the +Mexican and Civil Wars, the Spanish War and the +European War, diverted energy from American +culture, and transferred it to the commercial, financial, +and industrial field.</p> + +<p>Like America, Russia has had three periods of +culture. The first, under the leadership of Pushkin +and Gogol, began with the Napoleonic struggle and +ended about 1836—though Gogol himself was to +survive it for a few years. It was predominantly +romantic and revolutionary. The second began +approximately with the Crimean War of 1854, +culminated in the liberation of the serfs in 1861 and +went on through the seventies. Its leaders were +Turgenev, Tolstoy, and Dostoevsky. It was predominantly +realistic and political. The third, beginning +about 1890, has continued down to the +present day. It is almost entirely symbolical in +feeling.</p> + +<p>In each case, Russia’s foreign campaigns, +whether successful or not, seem to have shaken +up her pervading inertia and spiritlessness. The +struggle with Napoleon gave rise to the brilliant +<span class="pagenum" id="p_177">[177]</span>generation of Pushkin; the Crimean War inspired +Dostoevsky and Tolstoy; the building of the Transsiberian +Railway and consequent Japanese-Russian +War, may be said to have created the school of the +symbolists, which, as Prince Mirsky has said, dominated +the first decade of this century. By the fluctuations +of campaigns fought at a distance, as +opposed to civil wars, Russia has been bettered: +America has been spoiled by them, and has never +stood so high in culture as she did during the brief +years of her own civil war. That is because war +abroad enlarges man’s horizon, war at home limits +it. The Russian type, prisoner to its own centrality, +requires to escape continually from its petty +and hampering environment; the American type, +boldly going forth from itself into ever new regions, +needs some force that will hold it at home and make +it create a local centre of indigenous culture.</p> + +<p>One can trace the same characteristics in the +strong centralisation of Russian literary and spiritual +culture, as opposed to its boundless diffusion in +America. In Russia, all intellectual movements +have gravitated from the beginning to Moscow and +to Petrograd; in America, Concord, Richmond, +Charleston, San Francisco, Chicago, Nashville, +have all promoted new movements, each in a sense +more important than anything achieved by New +York. New York has been only a market-place, a +<span class="pagenum" id="p_178">[178]</span>place where literary people may come together and +drift apart, a temporary haven for those wearied +of provinciality and wishing to assert their cosmopolitanism. +American culture, in order to be itself, +to find spiritual roots, has to flee from the mock +cosmopolitan Europeanism of its capitals and to +become provincial, rooted in the backwoods, solitary +and remote, as were Thoreau and Hawthorne. +Russian culture, on the other hand, in order to be +itself, has to tend towards a definite centre. The +European is freed from these distressing choices; +the division between city-dweller and country-dweller +is for him less sharp and severe. He is, if +highly cultivated, a member of a mystic body which +ignores national boundaries and has, in the largest +sense, unity of purpose. He absorbs a certain +quantity of American and Russian culture, but only +to produce, under normal circumstances, its cleverly-compounded +antidote.</p> + +<p>From the centralised condition of Russian culture, +and its opposite in America, it follows that the +cultivated Russian who lives abroad, tends to become +more democratic in his outlook, while the +cultivated American under similar circumstances, +tends to become more aristocratic. A centralised +culture is impossible without an aristocracy to support +it. Unless the ranks of society are graded and +defined from above, the meanest workman can +<span class="pagenum" id="p_179">[179]</span>become, economically and socially, the equal, if not +the superior, of the finest scholar, the highest creative +artist. Such a condition is what America definitely +aspires towards. The condition which Russia +tends to create is that no one, not the greatest +artist, nor the finest scholar, should ever consider +himself the equal of the mysterious ruler who, deriving +his power from heaven alone, sits apart in +the Kremlin. In America, the will being free, the +quality of thought does not matter; in Russia, the +will being subordinate, all can aspire to be thinkers. +When a Russian goes abroad, the resultant liberation +of his will enables it to act in harmony with his +mind for the first time, so that he becomes an advanced +radical; when an American takes up his +residence in Europe, the freeing of his thought that +takes place limits for the first time his boundless +will, so that he usually becomes a traditional conservative.</p> + +<p>But in thus entering upon and attempting to +define the influence America and Russia have had +on the whole field of intellectual and æsthetic effort +we are at once challenged by more important distinctions. +American thought tends to the rounded +and static, Russian thought tends to lose itself in +the eternal flow of harmony. Now if we try to +make a scheme of the arts according to those which +are more plastic and those which are more harmonic +<span class="pagenum" id="p_180">[180]</span>in their outlook on reality, we will get a figure +somewhat as follows:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent5">Plasticity ———— Harmony</div> + <div class="verse indent19">|</div> + <div class="verse indent17">Ritual</div> + <div class="verse indent4">(under which comes dancing)</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Painting        Drama</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Sculpture         Literature</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Architecture          Music</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class="noindent">Unless we do construct such a scheme in our minds, +we can have no clear conception of what art is. For +no other human concept has been so badly handled +and blunderingly misunderstood as has this concept +of art; and by none more than by the æstheticians. +One is almost tempted to retort to the followers of +Croce, who declare that all art is a pure abstract +intuition of the artist, a reality apart from physical +fact, that, on the contrary, art as an abstract concept +has no reality, and that there is no such thing +as art, there are only arts, each being a synthesis of +certain aspects of objective reality. Art synthesises +reality, as science analyses it; and the synthesis +alters in outlook whether we see it from the aspect +of time (which in the arts is music and corresponds +to pure mathematics in the sciences) or from the +aspect of space (which in the arts is architecture +and corresponds to physics in the sciences). Which +<span class="pagenum" id="p_181">[181]</span>of the arts we take as more fundamental or important +than any other depends, after all, on the quality +of our psychological outlook, not on the degree +of our æsthetic appreciation. There can be no +doubt that in an ordered state, the arts progress +from the space organisation of architecture to the +time organisation of music; just as in a disordered +state, the fact that all the arts tend towards music +is taken by æsthetic theorists to mean that music +is the greatest of all arts.</p> + +<p>It is interesting to attempt some application of +this classification to the phenomena we have been +discussing, of Russia and America. In these countries +the art of ritual, which we have set at the summit +of our pyramid, inasmuch as it contains elements +of all the other arts and depends on them +all for its own existence, stood at opposing poles +from the very outset. There can be no two types +of religious service more opposed in essence than +the Orthodox Russian communion service and the +Congregational, Methodist or Baptist “Sunday +meeting.” The one culminates in the invisible +priest’s taking of the sacrament behind the closed +and veiled iconostasis, while the congregation without +humbly wait on their knees; the other, culminating +in sermon and offertory, is an act taken part +in by the whole congregation, to whose willingness +the minister is entirely subsidiary. How far these +<span class="pagenum" id="p_182">[182]</span>two types of ritual have affected the arts of America +and Russia is a question that only future manuals +of æsthetics can settle. For the need of the +moment is an æsthetic based on fruitful psychological +principles, and not a purely theoretic æsthetic +such as Croce offers us. But for this we may have +to wait for another century.</p> + +<p>Neither America nor Russia has been able to +express to the full their native genius; they could +only have done so had the French Revolution and +Napoleonic wars been followed by a complete collapse +of Europe. But it is probable that the direction +of the American genius lies towards architecture, +sculpture, and painting; the direction of the +Russian genius lies towards drama, literature and +music. Thus does art attempt to redress the balance +which the social organisation overweights in +the opposing direction. For the American continually +tends to disintegrate, to be individualised, to +evade the centre; while the Russian continually +tends to reintegrate, to become centralised and feel +the appeal of the universal. Art, seeking for a +strongly-opposed principle of spiritual unity in +each case, in America finds a plastic motive in +organised space-architecture; in Russia it finds a +dynamic motive in the harmonic time-rhythm of +folk-song. Anyone who has seen an American skyscraper +or who has heard a well-trained Russian +<span class="pagenum" id="p_183">[183]</span>choir sing, will realise more fully than my words +can tell him the implications of this statement.</p> + +<p>The most characteristic new American contribution +to art is probably the recessed skyscraper, of +which an archetype was already produced before +the white man saw the American continent, by the +Pueblo Indians. The most characteristic new Russian +contribution to art is probably the ballet, a +mingling of movement and song, of which the +archetype was to be found in the fairs and local +feast days of old Russia. In both countries the +connection between the arts, and notably between +literature and painting, is closer than elsewhere. A +Tolstoy could justify the increasing ethical tone of +his art by an appeal to the practice of such painters +as Jules Breton or Defregger; a Whistler could +defend the increasing æstheticism of his by a passionate +appeal to what is essentially literature and +poetry. Neither country has arrived at the extreme +limit of sophisticated culture to be found in Europe, +with its chatter of vapid specialists.</p> + + +<h4 id="4_5"> + 4 +</h4> + +<p>When America and Russia started on their +course as independent entities—which process beginning +about 1688, only reached its consummation +in a century—the style of architecture which prevailed +<span class="pagenum" id="p_184">[184]</span>in both countries was remotely akin. The +Russian style had previously been the Byzantine +as modified by Levantine and Swedish influences. +The American style, if we omit the Mayas, began +as the colonial baroque, as developed by the architects +who followed Sir Christopher Wren. Peter +the Great, however, built his new capital in the +baroque style, the style of Versailles and The +Hague, and his influence contributed towards the +relegation of Byzantine influence to the hinterland. +It is this link of Baroque architecture that bridges +a great gap between the mind of Russia and that +of America.</p> + +<p>Baroque architecture has been called by an English +critic the “architecture of Humanism.” It +might equally be called the architecture of absolutism. +For its leading æsthetic aim, which was, in +the words of the same critic, to convey a sense of +overflowing and exuberant strength, might be used, +and in fact was used by two widely different political +parties. It might convey a sense of overflowing +and exuberant strength on the part of an oligarchical +but popular republic, as in the case of the Salute +at Venice; of a dramatic but popular creed, as in +the case of the Church of St. Peter’s; of a corrupt +but prosperous administration as in the case of the +houses of the great Whigs who ruled England. Or +it might convey monastic seclusion, absolute obedience, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_185">[185]</span>complete autocracy, as in the case of the Jesuit +churches, the Escorial Palace, or Louis XIV’s palace +at Versailles.</p> + +<p>The later classical revival under the Empire, too, +was double-sided. It might signify the sternness of +unbending republicanism, or the dictatorship of +Cæsarism. It was the former aspect that appealed +to America; the classic there quickly overbore the +baroque, and has persisted down to this day. On +the other hand, the craze for baroque ornament and +decoration persisted in Russia down to the time of +the Great War. The early stage sets for the Russian +ballet, notably the work of Benois and Bakst, +are its last expression.</p> + +<p>If we pass from architecture to painting, we get +another set of contrasts. The ideal of Russian +painting up to the close of the nineteenth century +seems to have been the great historical panorama +(Repin, Vereshchagin). On the other hand, the +ideal of American painting has been since the days +of Stuart, the portrait. Here we have again the +contrasted principles of anarchic autocracy and +republican individualisation that we find elsewhere. +That neither Russian nor American painting +amounted to much proves nothing, nor can we gain +a point by saying that neither was highly aware of +what was going on in Europe. American painters +proved themselves to be good characterisers, but +<span class="pagenum" id="p_186">[186]</span>bad decorators; Russian artists had the will and +desire to execute great decoration, but character +was beyond their grasp. Similarly Russian sculpture +tends to the eccentric, the unbalanced; American +to the static and commonplace.</p> + +<p>The contrast is still more marked when we come +to the art of literature. Throughout Russian literature +the noblest character is frequently shown as +doing the weakest and most ignoble things. American +fiction, on the other hand, tends to exalt the +ignoble, to give the most dignified actions to the +character one would suppose least capable of them. +This will appear more fully in the later analysis.</p> + +<p>In drama the taste of the American public has +always been for melodramatic situations and broad +handling; in Russia for inconclusive and complex +situations and subtle handling. One need only compare +the spectacular heaviness of the later O’Neill +plays with the extreme subtlety of Tchekhov.</p> + +<p>To conclude with the art of music, we may say +that in America the composer has tended to construct +well, but to characterise poorly; in Russia +to construct badly but to characterise well. All +these differences in art-practice arise from the fact +that in both countries the system of society is +greater than the will of any individual to support +it. But the system itself in Russia is autocratic, +centralised, bureaucratically ordered; therefore the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_187">[187]</span>individual who revolts from it, revolts upon impulse. +He is instinctively an anarchist; his protest +is of the heart, not the reason. The system in +America is anarchic, decentralised, dependent +solely on individual enterprise; therefore the individual +who revolts, acts upon reflection, he is intellectually +and spiritually an aristocrat (even when +he calls himself a radical), his protest is one of +reason and commonsense humanity. Thus we see +that art in both countries exists not as an expression +of tradition, but as a protest against a political and +social tradition that is felt in some way hostile to +life. For this reason art in both countries is in essence +revolutionary; it does not aim at correcting +and changing tradition so much as destroying it.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="p_188"></a><a id="p_189"></a>[189]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="BOOK_III"> + BOOK III + </h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_190">[190]</span></p> + +<blockquote class="constrain"> +<p><i>“Russia began by asking Europe for the finished products +of western civilisation, to meet the requirements of +her state service. It was not in this offhand way that +Europe had been able to produce these finished products, +which had behind them a whole background of civilisation. +Gradually the Russian customer was driven backwards to +a fuller and closer appreciation of what he really lacked. +He began by asking for weapons and went on to ask for +military training. He began by asking for clocks or any +other fascinating machinery and went on to ask for technical +service. He began by asking for ready-made books +on given subjects, and went on to ask for education. He +began by asking for knowledge and inevitably, however +slowly, he was compelled to recognise the need for that +training of character which can alone produce competent, +self-respecting and honest servants of the state. He began +by asking for the end and went on with infinite inner conflicts +and searchings of heart to ask for the beginnings.”</i></p> + +<p class="right"> + <span class="allsmcap">PROFESSOR BERNARD PARES</span>,<br> + “A History of Russia.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"><i>“Our America to-day I consider in many respects as +but indeed a vast seething mass of materials, ample, better +(also worse) than previously known; eligible to be used to +carry towards its crowning stage and build for good, the +great ideal nationality of the future ... no limit here to +land, help, opportunities, mines, products, demands, supplies, +and with—I think—our political organization, national, +state, and municipal—permanently established as +far ahead as we can calculate, but so far no social, +religious, or æsthetic organizations consistent with our +politics.”</i></p> + +<p class="right"> + <span class="allsmcap">WALT WHITMAN</span>,<br> + Preface to 1872 Edition of “Leaves of Grass.” +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_191">[191]</span></p> +</blockquote> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_IX"> + Chapter IX + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>Apart from the influence of politics, the +greatest spiritual influence that Russia and +America have had on the world for a century past +has been manifested through their respective literatures. +It is to this field that we must now turn, +for the most striking series of our parallels. This +literature has been, in both cases, something so entirely +apart in its inner development from anything +produced in Europe before the end of the eighteenth +century, that we cannot apply to it the +traditional standards of European criticism. Unlike +what has been the case in European literatures, +the literary form itself has not emerged from the +sociological and moral factors generally prevailing +at the moment. Rather has it been used as a +weapon of protest, as a means for overcoming the +stultification of the environment, in both America +and Russia. It has been essentially revolutionary, +dictated by a small protesting minority, rather than +rooted in the traditional lore of the soil.</p> + +<p>At the close of the eighteenth century, as we have +seen, the mind of Europe became divided between +<span class="pagenum" id="p_192">[192]</span>the rival claims of absolutism and of radicalism. A +wave of romantic sentiment, of revolutionary +storm and stress, with its longing for a past that +could no longer exist, together with its intense +democratic feeling for the forgotten folk sources +of art, swept over England and Germany, and began +to appear in France. It made impossible +henceforward the frigid artificialities of form displayed +in the poetry of Pope and Johnson, the +dramas of Voltaire, the essays of Addison and +Fontenelle, the epic of Klopstock. And it was +from this rising wave of Romantic sentiment that +both America and Russia started on their careers +as independent producers of literature. They have +continued on their way as literary countries thanks +altogether to nineteenth-century romanticism. +Without some understanding of the struggle between +romanticism and realism, their literary history +does not make sense, it has neither cohesion +nor development. It is true that both countries +have produced devotees of classical form, but for +the most part in the shape of critics, not creators. +The underlying genius of both countries has been +unable to accept the European tradition, even when +it was imitated; it has forced itself into alien moulds +only to burst them. One cannot deny for example +that Whitman’s poems are poems, nor that +Dostoevsky’s novels are novels. Only they correspond +<span class="pagenum" id="p_193">[193]</span>to nothing either in form or content or mental +attitude that was done before them as poems +and novels. The word itself, freed from considerations +of economy, tradition, and classical usage, +makes here its own form; arbitrary, intensely personal, +always stumbling and shambling on the brink +of incoherence.</p> + +<p>It is therefore impossible to write a just and +final literary history of either country. In this field +everyone is a partisan. According to whether the +critics’ prepossessions are for literature that reflects +that social struggle, or for finished beauty of form, +or for profound and tragic revelation of unsuspected +depths of life; according to whether the +critic of Russian and American literature is primarily +a social reformer, an academic humanist, or +an advanced radical theorist, the judgment will +fall. Kropotkin cannot endure the later Dostoevsky; +hundreds of American professors cannot endure +Whitman. The utmost that can be done is +to let one literature illuminate the other, to show +how the same psychological factors produce often +closely corresponding results, to draw parallels between +those portions of the literature of both countries +that have most closely affected Europe. So +only do we get any insight into the mysteries of +the Slav and American soul. Only in literature is +so close an insight possible; in American painting +<span class="pagenum" id="p_194">[194]</span>and architecture, and in Russian dance and +music, we have also national expressions, but limited, +tentative, and owing to their fundamental +differences in formal approach (the static and +plastic as against the auditory and agitated) very +difficult of comparison. It is possible in some +respects to bring the products of the written word +in each European country together; we can for +example set up a comparison between the drama of +Lope de Vega and Calderon, the drama of Corneille +and Racine, the drama of Ben Jonson and Shakespeare. +But it would be far more difficult if we tried +to compare sculpture and painting as practised in +the three countries mentioned over that period. So +in the case of Russia and America, we must concentrate +on the written word as being the most +accessible and comprehensible means of comparison.</p> + +<p>We may admit at the outset that to most observers +modern Russian literature is far richer in +individual talent, and in works of high ability, than +American literature has hitherto been. This is due +to the working of three very important factors. In +the first place, Russia from the outset had a racial, +soil-rooted language of its own and was not forced +to transform traditional English modes of expression +to fit an altered environment, or to teach an +immigrant population. In the second, the fact that +political discussion of every sort was forbidden in +<span class="pagenum" id="p_195">[195]</span>Russia during most of the period under review, +while America has lived in a perpetual atmosphere +of constant political agitation, made many more +choose the profession of authorship in Russia, while +in America it tended to make many who might have +been writers, into politicians, orators, publicists. In +the third place, before beginning to create a modern +literature on her own account, Russia had already +a rich folklore and legendary history of the past +to draw upon. In the case of the Americans, the +folklore and traditions of the early Indians, even +of the French and the Spanish settlers, were in a +sense so foreign to the dominant English-speaking +psychology, that they could not be used, except as +exotic colour. The result was that to this day +the American writer, with all the ability in the +world, has less material to his hands. Homer could +not have been Homer had he come to Greece from, +let us say, Egypt, without understanding or appreciation +of the past. The American writer is +more frequently found in that predicament than the +Russian. He has neither a tradition of folklore +to fall back upon for the past, nor essentially an +individual experience, out of which to build up his +present day. Only too frequently in America a +usable past (to borrow the phrase of a well-known +American critic) and a meaningful present fail to +coincide to produce the literary masterpiece.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_196">[196]</span></p> + +<p>Yet a parallel between both countries is not only +necessary, but psychologically illuminating. This +parallel will follow the lines of the historical parallel, +already tentatively traced for the outward +events, in the first book of this study. Here too we +will see two forces starting from opposite poles approaching +a coincidence only to diverge and to +again approach coincidence. Here too we watch +the interplay of the same underlying climatic and +soil factors on extremely mixed races that start +life under widely different political and social constants. +What is more, this parallel supplements +and completes the other. It enables us to disentangle +the essentially Slavic element from the essentially +American element of the two cultures. It +may even show how these two forces operating +freely in the world for a century and a half, like +the opposing poles of an electric battery, may ultimately +be reconciled, if not in the field of the practical, +at least in the field of the ideal; how they not +only closely correspond to each other, but ultimately +become one.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_8"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>The first stirrings of independent American literature +(as distinct from Colonial literature, or Red +Indian traditions) appear most clearly in the writings +of Benjamin Franklin. The first stirrings of +<span class="pagenum" id="p_197">[197]</span>Russian literature as distinct from a few court +writers such as Derzhavin in the Catherine period, +to whom might be added Catherine herself (although +she wrote in French), and the remnants of +old Slavonic traditions, appear in the writings of +Krylov. What strikes us instantly about these two +writers—the penniless American journalist who +steadily climbed the ladder of success until he +reached the top, and the son of the poor army officer +who likewise spent a lifetime in journalism to +emerge at last as a sort of social lion—is the curious +impression of shrewd, canny and independent +worldly wisdom that emerges from the pages of +both. Neither is a literary hero, nor an independent +creator, nor a prophet. Both have a utilitarian side, +a leaning to moral teaching, closely allied to a great +deal of homely common sense. It is true that +Franklin spent much of his energies in political +agitation and in scientific research, which detracts +from his magnitude as an author. But as has already +been pointed out, the same field was not open +to the Russian, with the result that his satire is both +sharper and tenser. Yet Franklin’s “Autobiography” +is a fable of the industrious apprentice making +his way through the ranks of Colonial society, +as Krylov’s so-called fables are real pictures of the +artificial and vain social order (shaken by the +French Revolution) in which Krylov, the idle and +<span class="pagenum" id="p_198">[198]</span>pleasure-loving, found himself. Both contain elements +of poetry, but these elements are of small importance +as compared to the prose content. And +both were, precisely because they limited their aims +to what was immediately possible, rather than to +what was the ideal statement, immensely popular.</p> + +<p>From such small beginnings American and Russian +literature emerged on the world’s stage with +Alexander Pushkin and Washington Irving. It +may seem to the casual and purely objective observer +that no parallel is at all possible between +these two men. Irving was simply an agreeable +minor writer, with a prose style of considerable +urbanity and charm, who happened for a time to be +ranked above his merits abroad as at home, and who +now is conveniently forgotten; whereas Pushkin +was above all a great and original poet. Yet this +verdict which might be passed by nine out of ten +European literary critics is, quite possibly, a false +one. Of the two writers it is Irving who is the most +original, as he had none of the stock of folklore +or of ancient tradition to go on; all that had been +swept away from under his feet by the Revolution, +and had to be discovered or invented afresh. He +was in the position of an artist who has to paint a +new picture on a blank canvas without either +brushes or colors. On the other hand, Pushkin +could simply use the old material that lay to his +<span class="pagenum" id="p_199">[199]</span>hand, and his task was merely to interfuse it with a +new revolutionary spirit. If we can think of Irving +as detached from European literature as Pushkin +was; if we can remember that living on the Hudson, +he was as socially remote from the world of Addison +and Goldsmith, whom he admired, as Pushkin in +the Caucasus was remote from Byron and Sterne +whom he worshipped, we can reach a juster estimate +of the achievement of both men.</p> + +<p>There is a feeling of nostalgia for the past that, +particularly in autumn, assails one in such a new +country as America with even greater force than +anywhere in Europe. To the European, especially +to the dweller in a cosmopolitan city, the +relics of the Middle Ages, the richness of the Renaissance, +the courtliness of the eighteenth century +are, after all, dead and vanished remnants of a force +that has long since flowed into other channels. But +to the American who has never known them, these +things appear under their most Utopian aspect, as +examples of a life full of leisure, where work was +despised, people were free, natural and gracious, +and harmony with inner and outer nature was +achieved. The American is afflicted therefore with +an incredible nostalgia for the past, the European +past, but the country he sees about him offers no +past at all but that of the wilderness, of the pioneer +and the Indian. He therefore aims, according as +<span class="pagenum" id="p_200">[200]</span>he is sensitive to beauty, or fundamentally in discord +with his own surroundings, either to transfer +the riches of Europe bodily to his shores and to +strive to live in the midst of them; or to revert to +pure and simple savagery. The first path was that +trodden by Irving; the second was that chosen by +Cooper.</p> + +<p>The quality that made Irving a classic author +during his lifetime and that kept him so, arose from +his overwhelming grace of expression. Around the +poor and threadbare material of folklore at his disposal +he threw the beauty of an incomparable +style, a manner of telling that makes of him still +the most readable of American authors. “Rip Van +Winkle,” “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” “The +History of New York” are all minor incidents of +life, enlarged and expanded to their utmost limit, +avoiding the tensity of great tragedy, but crammed +with the humor of a disillusioned romanticism. +They are not, like the works of their contemporary +Scott, direct assimilations and fresh re-creations of +the material of the past. Irving stands aloof from +his own fantasy, and warns us that this is how life +may have been once lived, but that after all life +cannot go on in this way. Thus an undercurrent +of melancholy is unavoidable to the careful reader +of these stories. When Irving’s heart is more +closely engaged, as in his fantasies of the Alhambra, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_201">[201]</span>he becomes at once even more supreme as an artist, +but less human in range. He seems to be thinking +always that all this enchantment is purely imaginary, +and that his people are not real men and +women. His Alhambra is not so much a castle in +Spain, as a castle in the air. Later Irving tried +to remedy this defect by writing objective history, +and busied himself with the life of Columbus, of +Washington, of Astor. But even here he was +dogged by the curious unreality that is the fate of +the romantic who cannot find romance in the world +that is about him, or in his own immediate race-memories. +His Columbus is a mediæval stained-glass +saint. His Washington is a classical plaster-cast. +Only his Astor has any reality. Thus Irving’s +later works are inferior to his earlier. He was +not equipped to draw men of action but only such +dreamers as Rip Van Winkle and Wouter van +Twiller. And an underlying mistrust of women—explainable +by the fact that Irving was a bachelor +with several unsuccessful love-affairs to account for—emerges +equally from these classically built +pages.</p> + +<p>The problem that Pushkin set himself to solve +was, in all essentials, similar to the problem that +bothered Irving. Only in Pushkin’s case there was +no lack of material for his talent—rather the reverse, +which explains why, in his short and disordered +<span class="pagenum" id="p_202">[202]</span>life, he was able to turn out so much that +is memorable. Pushkin’s question was how to put +this material into classic form, how to make it appear +light, graceful, easy and charming. That he +solved this question, and wrote works of great exhilaration +and formal perfection in his youth, in a +language which was before his day barely more +than a barbaric dialect, is the considered verdict of +everyone who knows Russian. But this achievement +did not satisfy Pushkin. He did not believe in the +world that he himself had created, and an endless +succession of folk-heroes, of Russians and Ludmillas, +could not satisfy him for long. His private attitude +was atheistic and what is more anarchistic, as +is indicated by the obscene Gabriliad and many another +youthful poem. As he grew older he tried +more and more to find a world in which to believe, +with the result that this scion of the nobility took +to posing as a peasant, and cultivated an air of +heroic misanthropy, derived from Byron. The two +forces flowed together in “Eugene Onegin,” which +is the one work of Pushkin that has united all his +qualities. Here under the mantle of Byronism +which he had wrapped round himself, and which +essentially belied his own care-free temper, we get a +world which is real but detestable, and in which +the bitterness stands close to the surface. Yet this +world, from which neither Pushkin nor any other +<span class="pagenum" id="p_203">[203]</span>later Russian has found escape, was in a sense +forced on him by outer circumstances, particularly +by the great early emotional crisis of his life, which +came from his secret sympathy with the Decembrist +uprising in 1825 (when he was twenty-six) +which he later had to disavow in order to escape +Siberia. This crisis was fatal to Pushkin’s harmony, +in the same way as Irving’s early emotional +crisis, his engagement broken by death, was fatal +to Irving. The remainder of his work is a prolonged +emotional dissatisfaction, much on the lines +of Irving’s half-humorous stories. Pushkin became +a realist despite himself, as Irving a romanticist despite +himself. Each is therefore a classic in the +Russian or American sense, but not in the European.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_7"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>With James Fenimore Cooper we approach a +very different problem. This honest, stern and +embittered man, at war with society and himself, +whose best writing was done at the latest period +of his development, is perhaps to-day the least +known and least appreciated of American writers. +This is due to the fact that about much of his work +he deliberately threw the false glamour of an idyllic +romanticism. Hating the frontier as he did, hating +equally the time-serving and vulgar democracy of +<span class="pagenum" id="p_204">[204]</span>his own period, he sympathised at heart with nothing +but the already remote past of the Indian scout +(of whom he has left us an immortal portrait in +Leatherstocking) and fundamentally the Indian +himself. An aristocrat to the bone, he threw himself +repeatedly back upon the eighteenth century. In +his love of what was already a remote and murky +past, he recalls the Russian historian Karamzin, +who similarly after an early period of political +polemic, went back to the past and strove to glorify +it. And the result was much the same in both cases. +Karamzin’s Russian history is, in the opinion of +most critics of standing, not really a history at all, +but a marvellous portrait gallery of living men and +women held together by a flowing stream of narrative +tending to idealise and prettify the details of +the picture he was presenting. Cooper’s romances +are similarly not romances at all, but wonderful +pictures of bygone events, storms at sea, revolutionary +battles, adventures in the wilderness, similarly +vitiated by a tendency to write idyllically +about the past. And as Cooper influenced Melville +and hundreds of other American writers of adventure +tales, so Karamzin influenced Gogol and +Dostoevsky. Cooper was indeed more important as +an influence than as an actual creator. Where he +was great was in Uncas and Chingachgook and +<span class="pagenum" id="p_205">[205]</span>Leatherstocking; his noble and persistent belief in +character saved him from incredible sentimentality +of incident and a viciously mannered style. The +untold glory of the already vanishing heroic age of +American life when men took their lives in their +hands and lived alone with the wilderness, fired +Cooper. He was scarcely adequate to the tragic +implications of his own theme.</p> + +<p>Here we reach a point that is important for us to +understand if we are to grasp the real nature of +the underlying contrast between American and +Russian culture, and the common causes of their +failure. Under the system of levelling democracy +such as America adopted and practised, men could +not combine together to wrest a meaning and significance +from frontier conditions except by making +sacrifice of some part of their own personality. +The complete personality, therefore, as such, stood +outside the bounds of American organised society, +and became inarticulate, unformed, illiterate, and to +all intents and purposes, a pariah and an outlaw. A +Daniel Boone, a Leatherstocking, or in a later age, a +Kit Carson, or a Huckleberry Finn, are the authentic +“originals” of the American landscape. In their +presence everything else becomes feebly Colonial; +an imitation of remote European manners and traditions. +Only in the South, where some elements of +<span class="pagenum" id="p_206">[206]</span>settled aristocracy had rooted themselves, could +culture and personality exist side by side in the same +individual, and this culture took social and political, +rather than literary forms. The North and the +ever-widening frontier of the West were incapable +of producing a single personality of the intellectual +range and poised character of Jefferson. At +the other end of the scale, under the increasing centralisation +and autocracy of the Muscovite Czars, no +one could have independent personality except the +Czar himself and a few important nobles of his entourage. +The system of abolishing local independence +worked, as a leveller of the mass, with equal +efficiency as the system of mob-democracy. Only a +few of the older Slavonic and Baltic nobility resisted, +and it was within their ranks that literature +was cultivated, as it was within the ranks of the +better-bred families of America that the first attempts +at an indigenous culture took place.</p> + + +<h4 id="4_6"> + 4 +</h4> + +<p>In both Russia and America, therefore, the rage +for imitation of European ways of life and thought +early became of equal importance with the suppressed +desire to shape life according to local conditions. +This fact explains the popularity of such +<span class="pagenum" id="p_207">[207]</span>figures, for instance, as Bryant and Zhukovsky. +Bryant simply transported bodily the nature feeling +of Wordsworth to the American scene, as +Zhukovsky tried to interfuse the idyllic sentiment +of Parny and Chenier into his aboriginal background. +Both spent a large part of their lives as +translators; a task far easier to the Russian than to +the American, as the Russian could not fail to enrich +his material (chosen frequently from third-rate +European sources) by contact with far deeper and +more lasting earthborn springs of inspiration, +whereas the American impoverished his by a scrupulous +and Puritanic zeal for correctitude. Both +translated Homer, but while Zhukovsky’s translation +became and remained a Russian classic, Bryant’s +translation is a monument of Puritanic austerity +and plainness and is likely to abandon the mind +of the cultivated English-speaking reader in favour +of the surging violence of Chapman, the artifice of +Pope, or the rich and tender idyllism of Butcher +and Lang. But for all that, Bryant’s “Iliad” and +“Odyssey” are Greece as seen through American +eyes, and their homespun dignity are more valuable, +because more native, to the American critic than +any European version. The impulse both Bryant +and Zhukovsky gave to translations has persisted +throughout the whole range of Russian and American +<span class="pagenum" id="p_208">[208]</span>literature; it is symptomatic of the fact that +culture in both countries is not a natural growth, +but something that has to be propped up and supported +by continual reference to what goes on +without, in lands where authors are born to more +settled traditions.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_209">[209]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_X"> + Chapter X + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>There comes a moment in the history of every +people when, by some almost imperceptible +inner growth of cultural self-consciousness, a great, +new, and original art is born among them. This +moment coincides with the first slackening of the +impulse that has made the particular people whose +history we are surveying, free and victorious in their +long struggle for unity and liberty. The period +that follows in every case depends upon an emergence +from early political upheaval and chaos, and +in its frankness and joyousness, resembles the coming +of spring. A slackening of unified political +effort takes place, and a corresponding increase +of individual talent in other fields. Italy reached +this moment with her pictorial arts and literature +early in the fourteenth century; France under +Ronsard and the Pleaid; England under the Tudors. +In Russia and America the old cultural background, +such as it was, blocked the path of a new +birth down to the period at which we have now +arrived in the course of our study. Russia’s Renaissance +and America’s Renaissance coincided; both +<span class="pagenum" id="p_210">[210]</span>began about 1830. The first great figures that +these two Renaissances produced in the field of literature +were Gogol and Hawthorne.</p> + +<p>Let us look for one moment at the social conditions +under which these two men came to maturity. +In Russia the whole period is covered by +the reign of Nicholas I. Alexander I, who had succeeded +in 1794 and whose reign had led to a complete +triumph over Napoleon after Moscow, died +in 1825. His reign had strengthened the hold of +the autocracy upon the great mass of the population, +and had enormously increased as well the prestige +of Russia in Europe, but had successively +alienated the more enlightened nobility, who were +all for the contemporary remedy of Western liberalism—a +constitution. His death was the signal +for the abortive uprising of the Decembrists, who +were one and all nobles and could command little +support in the army. The aim of Nicholas was to +preserve everything exactly as it had been left by +Alexander. Personally friendly as he was to liberal +thought at the beginning, patron of both Pushkin +and Gogol, possessed of great native courage +and invincible determination, the movement of +events in Europe from 1830 to 1848 forced him +little by little into the camp of the extreme reactionaries, +and the close of his reign found even the +Slavophils in opposition to the Czar. By his personal +<span class="pagenum" id="p_211">[211]</span>interference in the affairs of Poland and Turkey +he drew down upon him the enmity of Austria, +England, and France, at that time the three greatest +European powers. In regard to literature and +the spread of ideas, his reign was marked by a +steady growth in the power of the censorship, tending +to abolish every manifestation of original +thought.</p> + +<p>All during this time, the pressure of Russia on +its westward frontier, the frontier of Europe, was +enormous, as during the same period America +exerted immense pressure on its own westward +frontier—the frontier that led through the Spanish +colonial possessions, to the Pacific. The increase +in repressive autocracy in Russia, under Nicholas I, +was counterbalanced in America by a great increase +in expansive democracy. The period opens with the +disappearance of the last of the old Federalist +“dynasty” among the Presidents, which had ruled +(with the slight interregnum of Jefferson’s presidency) +from Washington’s presidency down to +1829. At that date John Quincy Adams went out +of office. He was succeeded by Andrew Jackson +who was not only a democrat, but a backwoodsman, +a Southerner, and an apostle of the common people. +The only opposition Jackson need fear was from +the aristocratic and older South, in the person of +John C. Calhoun, and to a slight extent from the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_212">[212]</span>Northern Whigs. The latter party were soon conciliated, +and for the rest of that period under review, +down to the Civil War, we have a series of +presidents whose democracy, slightly tainted with +Whiggism, leads to a remarkable series of compromises +between the agricultural and slave-holding +South and the industrial and trading North, and +the ever-expanding Western territory which in +theory (but not in fact) lay equally open for both +sections—Northern and Southern—to settle upon +and inhabit. What makes this period remarkable +in American history is first, the constant succession +of characterless and feebly respectable presidents—Van +Buren, Fillmore, Pierce, Buchanan—so characterless +and feeble that a single Calhoun who spent +his lifetime in opposition to the whole system resembles +a giant by comparison; second, the increasing +pressure on the southwest, on Mexico, which +resembles Nicholas First’s increasing pressure on +Turkey; and third, the growth of literature in the +midst of a system which was politically corrupt and +persisted wholly on the principle of “to the victors +belong the spoils,” yet did such lip-service to respectability +that Hawthorne himself dared scarcely +mention directly the word “adultery” in his masterpiece. +We would do well to recall the Russian censorship +in this connection, as also the fact that under +Nicholas I, government bribery and corruption (as +<span class="pagenum" id="p_213">[213]</span>revealed by the Crimean War) reached a level only +paralleled later under Nicholas II.</p> + +<p>Under such conditions, the genius of Gogol and +Hawthorne came to flower. So close were they, not +only in the themes upon which they worked, but in +their personal psychology, their inmost successes +and failures, that it matters little which we take +first. But inasmuch as to the English-speaking +Occidental, the Russian’s art illuminates by contrast +that of the American’s, whereas the reverse is less +likely to be true, we will take first the career and +activity of the unhappy man who more than any +other, made Russian literature what it specifically +is.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_9"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>Nikolay Vasilievich Gogol was born on March +19, 1809, in a market town of Sorochintsky in the +province of Poltava. He came from a family of +Ukrainian Cossack gentry. The district in which +he had been born he himself immortalized in his +story of “Taras Bulba.” It was the district beginning +about two hundred miles south of Moscow, +embracing Kiev and the dangerous shallows and +rapids that encumber the course of the lower +Dnieper, which was the important “river road” +leading to what throughout the Middle Ages was +Russia’s main sea frontier: the frontier of the Black +<span class="pagenum" id="p_214">[214]</span>Sea. In the words of an able American commentator +on Russian affairs this district, known as the +Ukraine, was “the Border Marches. Naturally +it has varied, in different epochs, just as our western +frontier (pretty nearly its exact equivalent) varied +at different periods throughout the history of the +United States, and was pushed further and further +from the eastern centre of civilisation. In the case +of Russia, Moscow represented that centre.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_6_6" href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> + +<p>In this district, then, Gogol was born. His people +were the Ukrainian Cossacks. This word meant +to the Russian mind not an independent race, but an +independent class: the freebooter, the military nomad +of the boundless plain, the man whose home +was the saddle, and whose roof was in the sky, the +exact counterpart of the Western American “bad +man.” But unlike the “bad man” of the West, +these Cossacks had been deliberately sent to populate +the Ukraine by the policy of the government. +In the reign of Ivan the Terrible, it became necessary +to have a military force on this southwest frontier, +in order to hold back the Crimean Tartars, who +were continually threatening Moscow through advance +from the Kherson peninsula. Czar Ivan +thereupon collected all the young men of adventurous +disposition and warlike tendencies that could be +<span class="pagenum" id="p_215">[215]</span>found for this purpose. Most of them were, in fact, +criminals—a body of men, warring alike upon Pole +and Turk, who lived in semi-monastic state in a +movable capital on the banks of the Dnieper, and +who had become so great a menace to the Czar +himself that after Pugachev’s rebellion in the reign +of Catherine the Great, they were suppressed. It +was from this group Gogol sprang.</p> + +<p>He was, in fact, the last flower of the old Cossack +independence of spirit. After a sensitive, +sickly, and morbid boyhood, he drifted to St. Petersburg +at the age of twenty, equipped with nothing +but a bad idyllic poem and a boundless ambition and +vanity. Here he was taken up by literary society +and his first book of Ukrainian tales, “Evenings on +a Farm near Dikanka,” made such a sensation that +he rapidly became a social lion. He produced more +tales and attempted to become a teacher of history +with small success. But he became increasingly the +idol of the more idealistic Russian intellectuals +whose spiritual home was Moscow, and whose aims +were Slavophilism. Towards this group he gravitated +increasingly. His comedy, “The Government +Inspector,” was an immediate and unqualified success +of mingled admiration and disparagement, and +he was now able to go abroad, choosing Rome as a +place of residence. From there, he came back to +Russia, with the first part of his masterpiece “Dead +<span class="pagenum" id="p_216">[216]</span>Souls” (published 1842). But life abroad and +still more the homage paid to him, had convinced +him that he must have some greater mission than +merely to be a writer. He must become a prophet, +and regenerate Russia spiritually. His first attempt +in this direction took the form of the religious +prose polemic, “Select Passages from a Correspondence +with Friends.” In this book, he throws +overboard the St. Petersburg Liberals and the Moscow +Slavophils alike, and reveals himself shamelessly +as a preacher of nothing but dumb obedience +to the Czar, ready to transform his mission of regeneration +into the rôle of an upholder of complete +reaction in religious and political matters. Only an +intense egotist could have written such a book, with +its attacks on all who had helped him in the past, and +henceforth Gogol had no friends. He could not +find peace either within or without Russia, and +pilgrimages to the Holy Land, restless self-abnegations, +tormented repentances, were alike in vain. +In 1852, he died having by his own act destroyed +the greater portion of the manuscript of the second +part of his “Dead Souls.”</p> + +<p>The inner history of Gogol is that of a man who +seeks freedom everywhere but can find it nowhere +in the self-satisfied, petty bourgeois civilization of +his epoch, with its scum of semi-concealed political +corruption floating on the top of artificial manners, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_217">[217]</span>its apeing of foreign fashion, its sentimentality and +sordidness. All this comes out very strongly in the +novel which is Gogol’s unquestioned masterpiece, +his “Dead Souls.” The hero of this book, Chichikov, +is a sort of picture of Gogol himself, in his aimlessness, +his self-satisfied inferiority, his timidity with +women. He has conceived a brilliant plan, of obtaining +an heiress in marriage by representing himself +as a large landowner with a great number of +serfs. To carry this plan into effect, he buys up +from the landowners of a certain district, the serfs +that have recently died or run away, and whose +names, not having been struck off the census rolls, +still leave their owners liable to payment of poll +tax for them. Equipped with this list of “dead +souls” he intends to pose as a wealthy man, but his +scheme fails through his own impudence. Gogol +certainly meant to make Chichikov attractive, and +even to show his “regeneration” in the second part, +which was never finished; but Chichikov remains at +best a mean-spirited busybody, at worst a base adventurer +with an undeveloped moral sense. What +the book is chiefly remarkable for is its extraordinary +portrait gallery of characters each set in their +appropriate surroundings of Russian landscape. As +Chichikov drives hither and thither on his enterprise +of cheating, we are treated to a panorama of +Russian landscape and of Russian life, and each +<span class="pagenum" id="p_218">[218]</span>is as dreary as the other. This novel has been compared +to “Pickwick Papers,” but the laughter of +“Dead Souls” is bitter and harsh and menacing. +One cannot avoid a feeling as one reads on and on +that the dead peasants whom Chichikov absorbs +were at least once men, fully alive, unspoilt and +integral (however degraded their conditions of +existence); but that the living landowners who +possess them—with the exception of the half-crazy +old maid Korobotchka who gives the plot away, and +the embittered miser Plyuskin,—are neither wholly +alive nor honest. They are walking ghosts, horrible +simulacra; rotting away within, the degenerate self-satisfied +scions of all manner of public and private +corruption.</p> + +<p>“Dead Souls” remains valuable therefore chiefly +as satire—a bitter satire by a “soul” itself in peril of +death; one who had come to central Russia from +the freer, wilder atmosphere of the frontier, and +who had there earnestly sought for truth and beauty +only to find stifling mediocrity, hypocrisy, and corruption. +From this strain of satire, Gogol himself +vainly sought escape; escape into the wild heroism +of the old Cossack life vividly described in “Taras +Bulba,” escape into peasant folklore, escape into +morbid religious introspection. Gogol is usually +credited with being the first thorough-going Russian +realist, but in fact realism was to him always the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_219">[219]</span>enemy. On its face appeared the grin of the evil +one, or the smirk of the hypocrite. Only once is +Gogol the objective realist in his play the “Government +Inspector.” Here he merely set down the +facts, and gave his skill in dialogue a free run. The +result was equal to the most bitter and cruel of all +his satires; all the bitterer because here there is no +fantasy to fly to, no charm of sentiment to colour +it. For the whole of his life, Gogol struggled like a +man in a net. He must speak the truth, but the +truth only hurt him. He must create beauty. He +had the courage to call “Dead Souls” a poem, and +his whole career was like a boldly planned and +beautifully conceived raid of a daring chief into the +heart of a hostile country. But when he had arrived +at the summit of his career, beauty still +mocked him from far away. Gogol left Russian +literature neither romantic nor realistic; he mingled +humor with bitter earnest, and magnificence with +sordidness. In the end he could not write any more. +The warring forces within his soul tore him to +pieces.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_8"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>The career of Hawthorne, if we set aside slight +differences in early environment and upbringing, +was startlingly parallel. In his inner life, Hawthorne +was the exact counterpart to Gogol. He +<span class="pagenum" id="p_220">[220]</span>was born in 1804 of what might be called America’s +radical aristocracy, the long line of Puritan legalists, +divines, and shipmasters that had been the bulwark +of the attacks against England’s unifying +and centralizing tendencies, from 1629 to the Revolution. +An ancestor had taken part in the hanging +of witches and whipping of Quakers; just as an +ancestor of Gogol probably took part in the scenes +of raid and rapine that are so vividly told in “Taras +Bulba.” A delicate childhood, a melancholy, secretive +and hypochondriac disposition, a precocious +desire to write, complete the picture. But unlike +Gogol, Hawthorne did not have to travel from +his home to attain fame as a writer. He was born +and already established at the centre where all +movement of ideas took place: within sight of Boston. +In his day, the force that had made the Revolution +a success, and had given New England the +intellectual and moral primacy of the New World, +was already weakening. Further and further off +the frontier was moving, across the Mississippi. As +each new barrier interposed by nature was passed, +the power of New England waned. Already its +trade and shipping were passing into the hands of +New York. Its population, moving out to the +richer agricultural lands of the Middle West, were +maintaining all the faults of the Puritan system, +the greed, avarice, stiffness, and ugliness, without +<span class="pagenum" id="p_221">[221]</span>the redeeming Puritan mental discipline. Hawthorne +was therefore almost the last flower of idealistic +New England; the last flower of the old stock +that was to produce the first fine fruit of American +literature. And like Gogol, Hawthorne was primarily +a humorist; but whereas Gogol’s humour is +lit up by savage hatred (which blazes to a great +flame in “Dead Souls,” despite Gogol), Hawthorne’s +humor is made poignant by the nostalgic +hopelessness of regret. Behind Gogol’s mask is a +sneer; behind Hawthorne’s face one sees the terrible +infinite vanity of all earthly things.</p> + +<p>It is instructive in this respect, to compare Hawthorne’s +finest novel, “The House of Seven Gables,” +with Gogol’s masterpiece, “Dead Souls.” Where +Gogol adopts a setting that seems to take in its +sweep the whole of the Russian landscape, Hawthorne +confines his action to the precincts of a single +house. Yet in this small compass of space, with +the use of barely more than half-a-dozen characters, +he conveys the sense of a past stretching back to infinity; +a past so remote, awful and unchangeable +that the present day of his novel is but a feeble +echo of its long-appointed doom. Over this thought +of the past, as an event that cannot be recalled or +redeemed, Hawthorne returns again and again, as +Gogol returns again and again to his motive that +the souls of his characters are really dead and can +<span class="pagenum" id="p_222">[222]</span>only be brought to life in the future. The ruin of +a people is here summed up in the downfall of a +single family within the four walls of a house, as in +Gogol the same ruin pursues Chichikov everywhere. +Both novels are novels about what are literally +“dead souls”—Hepzibah and Clifford and old +Uncle Venner and the daguerreotypist Holgrave +are as impotent to break the doom that weighs +upon them as any of Gogol’s landowners. But the +doom here is concentrated on a single point, whereas +in Gogol it is widespread and diffused.</p> + +<p>In his admirable study of Hawthorne, Henry +James suggests that the “House of the Seven +Gables” is more like a prelude or unfinished sketch +for a novel than a complete story. We know that +Gogol was unable to finish his novel, though he +schemed that Chichikov should be regenerated. +Hawthorne did finish his, but the last chapters are +an anticlimax after what is the real end; the death +of Judge Pyncheon, and the flight of Hepzibah and +Clifford. The real end is the railway: “At one moment, +they were rattling through a solitude; the +next a village had grown up around them; a few +breaths more, and it had vanished ... the spires +of meetinghouses seemed set adrift from their foundations; +the broad-based hills glided away.” This +flight into the external world away from the accursed +house which held them, is a liberation; it is a +<span class="pagenum" id="p_223">[223]</span>removal without an aim, a complete escape from +“what we call real estate—the solid ground to build +a house on—which is the broad foundation on which +nearly all of the guilt of the world rests.” This, +and not the weak anticlimax by which the story +actually ends, is the real conclusion, so far as there +can be any conclusion, in Hawthorne’s mind. To +get away from property—to get away from land, to +own nothing—that is Hawthorne’s solution, his +magic charm for breaking the spell of the past.</p> + +<p>In Gogol’s novel, the same flight motive, which +Hawthorne introduces with skilful effect as a liberation +from the House of Seven Gables, rotting into +ruin, is introduced and maintained throughout the +story. Chichikov moves hither and thither, forever +aimless, forever wandering, seeking to obtain something +lasting; a mythical estate, imaginary domain +lures him on. He cannot be regenerated until he +settles down and heroically transcends his sordid +past. Hawthorne’s characters cannot be regenerated +until they fly away from the past and become +nonentities.</p> + + +<h4 id="4_7"> + 4 +</h4> + +<p>Here we see in its purest form the workings of +that power-land antithesis that we have already +described as lying at the root of the contrasted Russian +and American psychology. The land on which +<span class="pagenum" id="p_224">[224]</span>Hawthorne’s own characters pursue their existence +warps their characters; the power that the Russian +helplessly desires to achieve, warps the minds not +only of Chichikov, but of all the other landowners +about him. Hawthorne himself could no more +escape his heritage than Gogol. He attempted to +escape, in brilliant excursions into folklore, such +as “The Scarlet Letter,” in faintly objective comedy +such as “The Blithedale Romance,” finally even in +life abroad. But in the end he too had to confess +himself beaten. The life of which he was so fine a +recorder became more and more a regretful memory +of tradition; and meantime the flood of democracy +surged irresistibly past him to other aims. Hawthorne +could only be outwardly, but not inwardly, +a democrat. His political support of Franklin +Pierce, and consequent upholding of the rights +granted to the Southern States at the time of the +making of the Constitution—including the right to +hold slaves, and to extend their territory—made him +anathema to his own neighbours, the abolitionists, +to whom the Mexican War had become a shameful +memory, and who were about to give their support +to the mad fanatic, John Brown. Hawthorne went +abroad after this, where he remained, very indecisive +in his attitude and writings till the eve of the Civil +War. That event disillusioned him completely. +He declared publicly that he considered that John +<span class="pagenum" id="p_225">[225]</span>Brown had been justly hanged; and that the +American’s allegiance, in the nature of things, was +always to one’s own native state, rather than to the +country as a whole. These remarks, duly deprecated +by the editor of the paper in which they +appeared, only served to show that Hawthorne was +now as much of a disillusioned aristocrat as Gogol +had been before him. He died, in a fit of black +melancholia, after making several abortive attempts +at writing a romance which would deal with the subject +of a supposed elixir of life,—attempts which +came to nothing. Like Gogol, he was one who had +sought for happiness within his own country, and +later without, and had found it nowhere; but could +not abandon the idea that somewhere there existed +a magic talisman that would set things right and +make life worth living. Because of the bitter fanaticism +of this hope—a hope which Europe from +time to time also entertains but always abandons—Gogol +and Hawthorne were the first supremely +great figures in their national literatures.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_226">[226]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_XI"> + Chapter XI + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>In the preceding chapter it was necessary, in +speaking of Gogol, to make some passing +reference to Moscow Slavophilism. It was also +hardly possible to speak of Hawthorne without +some reference to New England Transcendentalism. +These two great currents of thought, though +they did not of themselves produce the talent that +was attracted to them, were of such importance in +the history of Russian and American culture that +it is impossible to write a summary of either without +some reference to them. It is the more necessary +to do so, since these two forces both took their +rise from popular mysticism.</p> + +<p>Mysticism is a constant factor in the development +of any nation. Only in most European countries, +especially in Latin and Catholic countries, the aim +of the spiritual rulers has been to keep mysticism +in check, to give it practical and constructive aims. +This has been only possible insofar as the Christian +Church has itself assumed the discipline and ordered +ranks of the Roman army. The breakdown of +discipline before the Reformation led not, as +<span class="pagenum" id="p_227">[227]</span>Catholic historians would have us believe, to any +orgy of license, but to an unchecked explosion of +popular mysticism. This mysticism did not differ +in kind, but only in degree, from the famous mysticism +of the Middle Ages. It was less architectural, +less social in essence; it depended more and +more on an individual and personal approach to +God, on what the Catholic critic would call “private +judgment.” This “private judgment” was not long +in invading the Catholic Church itself. Compare +for example St. Augustine with Saint Theresa. +The former is just as mystical at bottom as the latter; +but he constructs his “City of God” objectively, +as a refuge for all men. In Saint Theresa, on the +other hand, all depends upon personal approach, +everything is transformed into a subjective relation +between the soul itself and its Maker, and all this +has no end, no beginning; it is an ecstasy equally out +of time and place. Small wonder that the theologians +of Saint Theresa’s day thought her doctrine +suspect, if not highly heretical.</p> + +<p>Transcendentalism is simply a carrying to its +logical end of this doctrine of personal and popular +mysticism. In New England, for a century and a +half before the Revolution, a battle had been waged +for the rights of the individual conscience, which had +successively been held to be superior to the organised +church, to the combined church and state, and +<span class="pagenum" id="p_228">[228]</span>ultimately to the law itself. To the Transcendentalists +there remained no longer any barrier between +man and God; and Emerson’s doctrine of self-reliance +as well as his notion of the oversoul, practically +said “Let us be God.” It is well known how +the Emersonian oversoul led directly to the superman +of Nietzsche; the only difficulty that the Transcendentalists +had in making themselves into supermen +was a lack of training. It was suddenly discovered, +by whom it does not matter, that the Hindoo +ascetics possessed such training. The only sure +method therefore of transforming New England +yokels and small-town tradesmen into thorough-going +“oversouls” was to become as Hindoo as +possible. Everyone went about reciting the Bhagavad-Gita; +and Emerson was able to refer in his +Journal to the New England summer as being a +“Hindoo day.”</p> + +<p>It escaped the attention of the Transcendentalists +that the Hindoo ascetics whom they strove to +imitate had not at all proclaimed the liberty of conscience +and the complete right of self-reliance which +the Americans asserted. The Hindoo ascetic accepts +the idol of the meanest of his compatriots, as +authentically representing a god. This the Transcendentalists +were not prepared to do. They were +individualists, yet so democratic in theory as to suppose +that merely by saying to quite ordinary people, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_229">[229]</span>“Here is Emerson; go and make yourself more +like him,” the ordinary people would all be magically +transformed into New England Brahmins. +Unfortunately human nature is not like that—as +Thoreau, at once the shrewdest and most sincere of +the Transcendentalists, admitted.</p> + +<p>Transcendentalism was therefore a brilliant pose, +and its leaders soon showed its lack of root in reality +by upholding the fanatic minority of the abolitionists, +as well as by defending the conduct of such born +outlaws and desperadoes as John Brown. The same +remark may be largely applied to Slavophilism. +This movement began as an aristocratic, idealistic, +sentimental movement on the part of the more intelligent +Moscow nobility to preserve authentic +Russian culture against the onslaughts of western +European materialism. It therefore had distinct +leanings towards the Orthodox Church, and the +maintenance of the Czar’s power. Unfortunately, +the Orthodox Church had become, since Peter the +Great, merely another branch of the State bureaucracy, +under the control of a Procurator of the Holy +Synod, from whom the Patriarch took orders; and +the Czar himself had no idea of improving the system, +or of helping Russian culture, but only of +maintaining his power intact. The Slavophil movement +therefore tended to play into the hands of the +reactionaries, and its belief in “Holy Russia” was +<span class="pagenum" id="p_230">[230]</span>as much a pose as the belief of the Transcendentalists +in Brahmin New England. It nevertheless produced +interesting minor figures, notably Aksakov, +who presents a curious parallel to Thoreau, which +we here lack space to discuss.</p> + +<p>These two movements, both mystical in essence, +both quasi-oriental in approach—for Slavophilism +derives something from Buddhism, as Transcendentalism +owes much to Hinduism—produced between +them the four greatest geniuses that Russia +and America have given to the world. These four +geniuses bridged in their life and work the great +crises of the sixties; the crisis marked by the Civil +War between the States in America, in Russia by +the liberation of the serfs, and the tragic reign of +Alexander II. The value of these four great men, +and still more their failure, give us more than a +merely political and social picture of their respective +epochs, a true insight into the measure of the problems +that Russia and America were given to contend +with. We will take the two men who made +the more objective approach to these problems first: +Walt Whitman and Leo Tolstoy.</p> + +<p>It is utterly impossible to treat Tolstoy and +Whitman apart for the purposes of this study. +Both were so completely and aboriginally a part of +their country in outlook that neither resembles anything +whatsoever European. Tolstoy’s natural +<span class="pagenum" id="p_231">[231]</span>view of European art and culture was that everything +in it was artificial, morbid, false, and above all, +sexually provocative—and Whitman persisted +throughout his lifetime in the error that European +art simply glorified the airs and trappings of outworn +feudalism. Both turned away from an elaborate +and complex culture to the simplest native elements +they could find; in Whitman the dock-labourers, +stage-drivers, longshoremen, and common +workmen, and in Tolstoy the shrewd and simple +Kutuzov, the Cossack bandit, the peasant saint. +Apart from the fact that Whitman wrote in a +rhythmical poetry that was to be like no other +poetry ever conceived, having nothing of the stock +poetical touches, the heightened style of the old +masterpieces, alternating from a direct realism to a +vague and incoherent mysticism, while Tolstoy +wrote in a prose that at its best is unparalleled for +direct powers of keen observation, and at its worst +is dry and tedious like a Government report—apart +from this fact, Whitman and Tolstoy present precisely +the same problem to the critical intelligence. +Both were divinely gifted amateurs, natures of +immense animal vitality and range of experience, +imbued with a perpetual itch for self-expression; +pioneers and path-breakers of an art that was to be +at once popular and folk-art, and yet was to disdain +all the background of mythological fantasy +<span class="pagenum" id="p_232">[232]</span>on which folk-art ultimately rests, and remain cold, +clear, and rational. They combined together in two +unique and practically interchangeable individualities +the most elemental and earthern mysticism of +the unspoilt, savage, and the completely practical +aim of the modern scientific philanthropist.</p> + +<p>There are, it is true, certain minor and slight +differences between them. Neither, despite their intense +nationalism, was racially completely assimilated +to the country in which he lived and worked. +Tolstoy’s ancestry goes back to a Baltic, possibly +East Prussian strain; Whitman, as is well known, +had Dutch blood in his veins. This slight foreign +element perhaps explains the self-centred aloofness +of either from the main intellectual current of their +times. The idealistic Orthodoxy of the Slavophil +movement made no appeal to Tolstoy; and Whitman, +after a period in which he came under the direct +influence of Emerson, threw overboard Transcendentalism, +with its insistence on scholarship and +intellectual culture. One may say also that Whitman’s +best work was all done before his breakdown +in 1872, was in fact done by the time of the close of +the Civil War in 1865, while Tolstoy’s best work +was all done after that date down to his death. This +was to a certain extent due to the fact that Whitman +was by nine years the elder, but also due to the +working of social and personal factors that it will +<span class="pagenum" id="p_233">[233]</span>be part of our task to examine. Apart from this, +and apart from some minor differences such as the +fact that Whitman’s was fundamentally a feminine +nature, glorifying sex theoretically as a biological +function, but in practice apt to dwell almost to the +point of mawkish morbidity on the magnetic charm +of athletic masculinity, while Tolstoy was so profoundly +masculine as to despise women utterly and +yet to be always swayed by their sexual attractiveness—apart +from this purely personal divergence, +the two forces in their literary resultant, are interchangeable. +Each represents an unalterable granitic +insensitive residue of final perception, at war +with all outside influences, rejecting every European +refinement, and struggling to spread itself +over the world. These two, Tolstoy and Whitman, +stand alone in the history of their country’s thought +as neither barbarians nor decadents, but something +far more elemental. They were essentially backwoodsmen.</p> + +<p>Both had what is only common to the backwoodsman +and the savage: absolutely Adamic vision. If +we can suppose a stage in human consciousness +when man is not subjective, does not project his +longings into the past or the future, is not concerned +with what follows upon death or what is the +purpose of life, lets reason follow upon impulse +without any ulterior speculation as to whether reason +<span class="pagenum" id="p_234">[234]</span>is adequate to explain, or impulse adequate to +guide his effort—if we can suppose such a stage, +then Tolstoy and Whitman both stood in it from +the beginning. Whitman has marvellously described +this stage in his poem “There Was a Child +Went Forth,” and Tolstoy in a passage of his autobiography, +and to this stage they both returned +again and again. Both stood on the same level of +undifferentiated animal consciousness. The intellectual +development of both was fragmentary, the +spiritual evolution always at the mercy of some +catastrophic “conversion.” What Tolstoy describes +himself as being at twenty he remained at +fifty, and the Whitman of the earliest “Leaves of +Grass” is the same Whitman that wrote “Specimen +Days” twenty years later. To live in this fashion is +extremely difficult under modern civilised conditions, +and Tolstoy might have easily passed through +a physical breakdown similar to that which cut short +Whitman’s career, had he not married an able and +efficient woman, and been the inheritor of a large +estate. For the Adamic vision, as I have described +it, neither looks at things with the practical materialistic +vision of most modern men, nor at them +with the idealistic vision of the minority. It sees at +once both sides, and neither. To it a tree is not only +a symbol of grateful shade, greenness and eternal +retreat from men, but also so much mere wood to be +<span class="pagenum" id="p_235">[235]</span>cut down and burnt, and ultimately only a tree. +The civilised man sees now one side, now the other; +the primitive man, the true Adamite sees both.</p> + +<p>It would be very easy to show how passage after +passage in Tolstoy’s work corresponds with other +passages in Whitman’s work in this quality of +Adamic vision. One need only contrast the +horse race in “Anna Karenina,” the battle-fields or +the burning of Moscow in “War and Peace,” or +that marvellous scene (also in “Anna Karenina”) +where the peasants mow the grass, and the proprietor +of the fields takes part in their labour, with +many a passage out of Whitman—the superb description +of late afternoon in “Crossing Brooklyn +Ferry,” the passage beginning “I am the mashed +fireman with breast-bone broken” in “Song of Myself,” +the completely captured sense of flight in “To +the Man-of-War-Bird,” the amazing rhythm and +pulse of the sea-shore in “Out of the Cradle Endlessly +Rocking,” and many another poem. These +two men were so completely innocent and indifferent +as regards intellectual aspirations and metaphysical +struggles that when confronted with nature +in its grandest and simplest aspects (which too +is innocent and indifferent) they at once felt at +home, and gave us not “nature seen through a temperament,” +so much as nature itself.</p> + +<p>It is important also in this connection to note +<span class="pagenum" id="p_236">[236]</span>that both possessed a supreme power of painting +war. Whitman doubtless inherited a dislike of war +from his Quaker ancestry, and Tolstoy certainly +opposed war theoretically as being contrary to his +favourite doctrine of non-resistance. Yet it was +precisely these two non-resisters who gave us the +most supreme war documents that we possess. The +battle scenes in “War and Peace” are unmatched +in all literature except by Whitman’s own “Drum-Taps.” +Nor is there anything strange in this. To +the non-resistant, the man whose soul has learned a +wise passivity, the upholder of “vegetable life,” +such as Whitman and Tolstoy were, war is simply +the spectacle of nature seen at its highest moment: +casually beautiful, unconsciously cruel, monotonous, +arbitrary, heedless of both good and evil. It is +the logician, the metaphysician, who escapes from +this viewpoint and regards war as purposive action, +or as purposeless savagery. Neither Whitman nor +Tolstoy were able to take this attitude. To both +war remained a Dionysiac orgy of nature, in which +they were able to merge their own passivity, and +neither had the slightest notion of the aims for +which the side to which they happened not to be +attached was fighting for. Whitman supposed that +the North in the Civil War was fighting nothing but +the “southern slave power,” forgetting that the +ranks of the South were filled not by mercenaries +<span class="pagenum" id="p_237">[237]</span>(which every slave-power supports) but by free +mountaineers in butternut homespun, who had +never owned a slave in their lives, were utterly undisciplined +in their ideas of freedom, and loved the +cause of local independence more than their lives; +while the northern armies increasingly became full +of conscripted German and Irish immigrants without +the remotest attachment to their adopted country. +And Tolstoy equally marred the whole plan of +his “War and Peace” with a portrait of Napoleon +that is nothing but spiteful and partisan caricature—he +makes Napoleon little short of idiotic, forgetting +utterly that the Napoleon who crossed the Russian +frontier was a Napoleon who had acquired the +fatal habit of hesitation—extremely common in +Russia—and that the army he led had equally acquired +the habit of indiscipline—another Russian +trait.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_10"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>But this is not the place for a complete estimate of +these two great men. Otherwise, we would be +obliged to take into account the fact that Tolstoy +began as a psychological analyst, and progressed +through ever broader objectivity to his final transformation +into a moral feuilletonist, while Whitman +exactly reversed the process. Our object here is a +more difficult one; to examine the type of mind +<span class="pagenum" id="p_238">[238]</span>likely to be produced by such frontier civilisations as +America and Russia, and thereby to estimate their +influence on other minds. The problem is psychological +and social, rather than cultural and literary. +Therefore we must pass on from the great achievements +of these two men to the narrower and more +purely personal foundations of æsthetic theory on +which those achievements rested.</p> + +<p>The aim of the Transcendentalists was to transform +native New England independence of character +into something culturally significant by interfusing +it with pantheistic mysticism derived alike +from Hindu and American Indian sources. The +aim of the Slavophils was to exalt the primitive +folk culture and institutions of the Russian peasant +by similarly emphasising its mystic and Orthodox +Christian side. The one rested on the zemstvo of +the Russian village; the other on the New England +town meeting. Each was in fact nothing more than +a theory based upon the assumption that the Russian, +or American, was as such superior to the European.</p> + +<p>To this theory Whitman and Tolstoy responded +by making a practical experiment. What they said +in effect was this:—“You say the ordinary bark-shoed +peasant, the ordinary New England backwoodsman, +is capable of finer shades of feeling than +any that Europe can show. Very well then. We +<span class="pagenum" id="p_239">[239]</span>will be respectively in our lives a backwoodsman +and a peasant, and thereby transform ourselves into +the greatest artists of our country.”</p> + +<p>Viewed from this standpoint Whitman’s “Democratic +Vistas” and his Preface to the first edition +of “Leaves of Grass” are the most important of his +writings, as Tolstoy’s “What is Art?” and his later +polemics are the most important of his. Both artists +started from themselves, and tried to deduce +a general law from a particular instance. Whitman’s +proposition (to take that first) was, if we +disengage it from the vague phraseology in which he +chose to wrap it, as follows:—</p> + +<p>“America differs from anything either European +or Asiatic in the fact that it is politically entirely +a democracy. Yet this democracy will never +come to anything unless it produces forms of art, +literature, religion to correspond to its native institutions. +These forms of art can only grow on this +soil, in their appropriate atmosphere, and to make +them grow I will produce poems such as I think any +democratic person can truly read and enjoy. These +works or works akin in spirit to them must become, +in the future, the perfect canons of form.”</p> + +<p>To this specious plea American democracy responded +by twice prosecuting Whitman’s work for +alleged indecency; by almost literally starving him +to death—if he had not been maintained by special +<span class="pagenum" id="p_240">[240]</span>European financial support after his breakdown in +1872, this starvation might have been an accomplished +fact—and by neglecting him in his life and +afterwards. It is true that Whitman took compensation +in his last years by surrounding himself with +a small group of adulators who went to the extent +of comparing him to Buddha and Christ. But his +own work and his life suffered. If he had not mistakenly +thought his own message (with all its +blunders) more important than any life he might +live, he might perhaps have married Mrs. Gilchrist +or another, and have recovered strength enough to +give us a second masterpiece, equal to “Leaves of +Grass.” His achievement, with its very human +traits, has suffered woefully from being concealed in +the clouds of incense cast to heaven by a tiny minority +of Whitman-idolaters. As a matter of fact, not +one in ten thousand or a hundred thousand Americans +is ever able to get anything out of his poetry, +or to realise that his theory is anything but an +utter confusion of art and morals. Whitman has +had no successor in his own country, and the chief +influence of his work has been abroad.</p> + +<p>Tolstoy’s problem was very similar. He, too, as +a combination of mystic and rationalist, set himself +the task of practically realising the programme of +Slavophilism; but the path he had to pursue to this +end was in itself very different from that which the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_241">[241]</span>Slavophils followed. He had first of all to forget +the fact that he was born a landowner, with all the +caste prejudices and conservative impulses of the +agricultural nobility; and he had to become as +nearly as possible, inwardly and outwardly a peasant. +It took Tolstoy a long time, and in the end +left him with a much clearer, albeit a more radical +message, than Whitman. This message he sets out +in his famous “What is Art?”</p> + +<p>The basis of Tolstoy’s æsthetics is contained in +the following sentences:—“Art is a human activity +consisting in this, that one man consciously, by +means of certain external signs, hands on to others +feelings that he has lived through, and that others +are infected by these feelings and also experience +them.” And further “Art is not, as the metaphysicians +say, the manifestation of some mysterious idea +of beauty or of God; it is not, as the æsthetic physiologists +say, a game in which man lets off his +excess of stored-up energy; it is not the expression +of man’s emotion by external signs, it is not the +production of pleasing objects, and, above all, it is +not pleasure; but it is a means of union among men, +joining them together in the same feelings and +indispensable for the life and progress towards +well-being of individuals and of humanity.”</p> + +<p>It is worth noting, in regard to the first part of +this definition, that apparently an art which has +<span class="pagenum" id="p_242">[242]</span>ceased to infect humanity with its feelings, has +ceased to become art in Tolstoy’s eyes. Let us take +for example the well-known example of Cretan art. +Undoubtedly, this was art, and infected people +with its feelings at one time. The Cretan civilisation +however perished, and remained unknown till +the late nineteenth century. During all this time, +the Cretans according to Tolstoy’s definition, were +not artists since their art infected no one with its +feelings. Suddenly, after Sir Arthur Evans’ discoveries +the Cretans became artists again. In other +words, Tolstoy takes the capacity of art to influence +others for good or ill, for art itself. Precisely the +same mistake was made by Whitman. He too supposed +that poetry, simply because it was poetry, +would have the capacity to breed a “huskier race of +orators and bards,” would unite America in “the +manly love of comrades,” would even be eugenic in +its effect of producing the ideally perfect type of +woman. The error in both cases is rather like that +of a man who has mistaken the programme of a +concert for the effect of the music upon him.</p> + +<p>But there is still a more serious error behind +Tolstoy’s doctrine. He declares, in revolt against +the “art for art’s sake” doctrine fashionable in his +time, that “art is a means for union among men, +joining them together in the same feelings.” He +might have reflected that the only art that had historically +<span class="pagenum" id="p_243">[243]</span>done so was, like the cathedral-art of the +Middle Ages, rooted entirely in a religious doctrine +accepted by all ranks of society, and it was this +religious and moral doctrine, and not the quality +of the work itself, that made it “a means for union +among men.” But Tolstoy in his rationalistic fervour, +had already rejected the mystical solution of +the Orthodox faith, and unlike Whitman, did not +hope to replace the older attitude towards religion +with any new outlook. Consequently he argued +that art which did not teach human unity and +brotherhood was not art at all, and devoted himself +to demolishing Shakespeare and Wagner, the nineteenth +century Frenchmen, and ultimately his own +best work. He tried to transform art into a moral +tract for peasant consumption; and supposed that +unless he became a peasant himself, he could not +any longer be an artist. The error was enormous. +It is not by wearing bast shoes and plowing one’s +own fields that one acquires the range of power and +feeling necessary to create an epic like “War and +Peace” or the “Iliad.” To behave as Tolstoy did, +is simply to mistake the outward means of life for +its end in inner spirituality. A Saint Francis, a +Lao-Tze, could cast away the whole apparatus of +luxury and vanity and remain great artists, because +the feeling of such men remained on the same plane +of transcendental human understanding as that of +<span class="pagenum" id="p_244">[244]</span>Beethoven or of Shakespeare. But Tolstoy did not +ultimately understand or share anyone’s feelings +but his own, and he made war incessantly upon his +own nature. Therefore he drew upon himself +Dostoevsky’s profound criticism that he was like +“an animal who runs in a certain direction till he +has to turn his head, and cannot do so without turning +his entire body, and running in the opposite +direction.” And the profound criticism of Whitman +is to be found in the writings of a Southerner, +Lanier, who remarked that just because the Mississippi +River or Niagara Falls were great, Whitman +thought he could become equally great by writing +about them.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_9"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>Whitman and Tolstoy both failed in their aims, +but Whitman’s enforced admission of failure +wrung from him in the end an attitude that is more +attractive, humanly speaking, than Tolstoy’s final +inhuman rejection of all human contact. It was +fortunate, however, that both died before they saw +the inevitable end to which their theories led. Whitman’s +glorification of the average American, instead +of the rare exception, developed a race of human +beings of which Mr. Sinclair Lewis’ “Babbitt” +is the type; the completely self-satisfied, idea-hating, +greedy and noisily vulgar herd-man of the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_245">[245]</span>Middle West, without æsthetic imagination or +spiritual depth of any kind. Tolstoy’s ideal of a +peasant aristocracy no less in the end developed the +“kulak,” becoming familiar to us since the Bolshevist +accession to power:—the peasant who having +made his bargain with the community, becomes so +inert and rooted in his power that he will not even +grow a grain of corn more than is necessary to +feed himself, nor acquire the education that is +offered him beyond the extent that his own interests +dictate. The two types closely resemble each other +and we may have more to say about them. For the +present it is enough to observe that Tolstoy and +Whitman sacrificed their lives and strength and +talents (which were not small ones) towards the +establishment of states of society and of human +types that, if either were alive to-day, they would +be the first to reject. The reason why this result +came about was due, however, not to some personal +fault of their own, but to mistaken premises on the +part of great masses of their own countrymen. +The Transcendentalists had exalted self-reliance, +which in the end comes down to a bare personal +preference by which the Philistine is the equal of +the artist and above all social discipline. Whitman +simply led this hypothesis to its natural conclusion. +The Slavophils had mistaken the rooted +inertia and conservatism of the peasant for a superior +<span class="pagenum" id="p_246">[246]</span>spiritual faith; Tolstoy showed that this faith +could not subsist on the same terms as the faith that +had produced the masterpieces of higher culture. +Each made what was essentially the same mistake. +Both overlooked the fact that we cannot make man +better, or nobler, or happier in the last resort—we +cannot lift life above the level on which it stands—merely +by multiplying the common denominator of +the needs and desires of humanity.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_247">[247]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_XII"> + Chapter XII + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>The Civil War in America and Alexander +Second’s freeing of the serfs in Russia, which +took place at the same time, were very different in +their effect upon the two countries. The Civil War, +as the most intelligent of the Transcendentalists, +Thoreau and Hawthorne, foresaw, was not likely +to turn out into a victory of New England mysticism +over Southern rationalism and materialism. +The desperate gallantry and lost-cause chivalry +with which the South flung itself into the struggle +and maintained it for the first two years, soon disabused +everyone but the politicians. The real balance +of power lay with the northern industrialists, +busily making munitions and army equipment, and +with the population of the yet unformed border +communities of Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas. +After 1862 the victory, if victory was to be won, +would fall with its spoils, not to the abolitionists +(the most honest of whom, William Lloyd Garrison, +was in favor of letting the South go) nor to +the small group of learned and cultivated New +Englanders, but to the steel magnates of Pennsylvania, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_248">[248]</span>the squatter immigrants of the prairie, +rapidly building Chicago, their true capital, where +the name of Emerson was unknown. The Civil +War was the first heavy defeat for American culture, +and it is doubtful if America has ever completely +recovered from it. Coming as it did, before +either the North or the South had reached their +fullest mental development, and while the West +was still mentally and physically undeveloped, it +only transferred power to the frontier and provided +another episode in the progressive decentralisation +and deculturisation of America.</p> + +<p>Far otherwise was it at the other end of the scale. +Alexander’s action in liberating the serfs, and his +own liberal tendencies, sent a wave of hope over +everyone in Russia, and not least over the Slavophils. +Their programme was about to be accomplished. +The next twenty years following 1860 is +the richest and most remarkable period in Russian +literature until we reach the period that beginning +about 1900, covers the present day. During this +time not only Tolstoy did his best work, which we +have already dealt with, but these years also covered +the entire mature achievement of another great +Russian, who in his absolute uniqueness as a spiritual +force, surpasses even Tolstoy: Feodor Dostoevsky. +One of the few figures that we can +remotely set beside him (and that we can do so even +<span class="pagenum" id="p_249">[249]</span>remotely is a fact in itself of some significance) is +that of his American contemporary Herman Melville.</p> + +<p>There can be little basis for comparison between +the outward careers of the son of the poor Russian +doctor (with Volhynian, perhaps remote Polish +blood in his veins) who came to St. Petersburg at +the age of twenty-two to make a literary sensation +with his first story, and who, three years later, +having taken part in meetings of a group of young +Socialists of markedly westernizing tendencies, was +sent off to penal servitude in Siberia, where he remained +for ten years; and the life of the scion of +two of the proudest and most aristocratic of American +colonial families, who became stricken with +poverty at twelve, ran away to sea, tried school-teaching +for three years, shipped aboard a whaler +at twenty-two, returned at twenty-four, married, +poured out literary work for about ten years, and +relapsed again into the silence of complete oblivion +for over twenty years. When one adds the detail +that Dostoevsky’s period of imprisonment and exile +in Siberia very nearly corresponds to Melville’s sole +period of creative work (1849-1859 in Dostoevsky’s +case, and 1847-1856 in Melville’s) one realises that +neither time nor space can be used as a basis of +comparison. The true comparison lies inward: in +the unique spiritual torment, the unsatisfied thirst +<span class="pagenum" id="p_250">[250]</span>for perfection that made Dostoevsky and Melville +what they were.</p> + +<p>In the history of every great nation there comes +a time when the need of men to find what may be +called the Golden Age becomes acute. This search +for the ideal, as it influences literature, is often attacked +by modern literary critics under the name +of Romanticism. Nevertheless nineteenth century +Romanticism has very little in common with this +particular striving, which probably affected the +Greeks just when they touched high-water mark in +the fifth century, certainly was present with the +Romans from Virgil onwards, and woke again with +the first stirrings of the Italian Renaissance. It +seems as if man cannot create his highest flights of +beauty and imagination without the longing for +some marvellous Utopia to be finally achieved to +lure him on. In the case of the English race, the +prospect and aspiration towards this Golden Age in +dream and in reality spanned the age of the +Tudors, and Shakespeare speaks its last farewell +in “The Tempest’s” air-borne music. To the +Americans and the Russians the hope of a new +birth, arising from the ashes of the past, had existed +as we have seen, from the beginning; but their literature +had been born prematurely old and disillusioned +in regard to what was the faith, not of the +cultured few, but the majority. Hawthorne had +<span class="pagenum" id="p_251">[251]</span>turned away from the life of his epoch to brood on +the shapes evoked for him by ancestral memories. +Gogol had, after a brief attempt to show the heroic +past in its tragic splendor, turned aside to acridly +and bitterly satirize the present. But the forces of +Transcendentalism and Slavophilism had shown +that however evil the present might be, life and +literary work would be impossible in Russia and +America, without hope and trust in the future. This +hope Tolstoy and Whitman tried to turn into hard, +rational, everyday reality. Melville and Dostoevsky +on the other hand were not concerned with what +was practical reality—their aspirations were too +great for that—but with the vaster if more indefinite +world of human hearts and souls. They sought +to go beyond the gospel of Transcendentalism and +Slavophilism into a search for the ultimate perfection +of the human type.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_11"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>Feodor Michaelovitch Dostoevsky was born on +October 30, 1821, at Moscow. His father was an +army doctor, who combined in his life the vices of +alcoholism and of avarice. The family was well-to-do, +and possessed estates in the country, together +with a certain number of serfs, but the elder Dostoevsky +(who had many of the characteristics of old +<span class="pagenum" id="p_252">[252]</span>Karamazov) not only denied his family support, +but behaved in such an insupportable manner towards +his own peasants, that while on a visit to one +of his estates, he was smothered by the serfs with +the cushions of his own carriage. This tragic event +haunted Dostoevsky through all his later life. +About the mother (who appears to have been an +ineffectual, harmless personage) we know little. +Young Dostoevsky was sent with his brother to St. +Petersburg at twenty-one, to join the Government +Corps of Engineers, but soon abandoned this to +take up writing. Already he was afflicted with a +mild form of epilepsy, which was aggravated by his +disorderly and riotous mode of existence. His first +novel, “Poor Folk,” created a mild sensation; the +“literature of pity,” the sentimental novel of the +Dickens type was in the air, and Dostoevsky’s work +was of the sort to please the public taste. He became +acquainted with Belinsky and Nekrassov, +the leading critic and poet of the time, and was +hailed as the true heir of Gogol’s tradition. He +soon became familiar with the advanced literary +circles, which were extremely radical in politics, and +this led to his downfall. He joined the political +group of one Petrachevsky where the questions of +constitutional government on the English model, +abolition of serfdom, and freedom of the press were +ardently debated. The whole group was arrested, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_253">[253]</span>and after having the death-sentence passed on them, +were led into the prison yard to be executed, when +a messenger came forward announcing that this +sentence had been commuted to imprisonment and +exile in Siberia. There Dostoevsky remained for +ten years, till 1859.</p> + +<p>It was not until after his return to Russia, and +after his marriage which took place in Siberia had +proved a total failure, and after a violent and lacerating +love affair with a demoniacal and coldly proud +woman, that Dostoevsky found himself as a writer. +The book in which he found himself, though it has +not the fame of the greater novels, is in reality the +key to his life and thought. It is called “Memories +from the Underground,” and was written in 1862. +It was followed by “Crime and Punishment,” “The +Idiot,” “The Gambler,” “The Possessed” (to give +it its English title; the Russian title is, properly +speaking, “Devils”), and “The Brothers Karamazov.” +During these later years, Dostoevsky’s +life was not less harrowing than during the earlier. +His second marriage, with a young unspoilt girl +who was devoted to him, gave him some happiness, +but his later years were harassed by constant money +troubles, and from 1867 to 1874 he had to live +abroad, as a penniless bankrupt. This state of +affairs was further aggravated by a mania for +gambling which possessed him, and by his epileptic +<span class="pagenum" id="p_254">[254]</span>seizures, now grown acute. His complete break +with the Western liberals of his youth, and his +whole-hearted adoption of a mysticism resting on +Orthodoxy, alienated his early friends; and the +Slavophils with whose doctrines he now sympathised +were repelled by his rudeness of manner, his +contempt for good society, and a sort of masked +anarchism that they perceived in him. Nevertheless, +his “Brothers Karamazov,” which appeared in +the year before his death, made Dostoevsky popular, +and his Pushkin address, delivered a few months +before the end, was a sort of apotheosis. He died +suddenly, as the result of an aggravated quarrel +with some relatives over money affairs, early in +1881.</p> + +<p>Dostoevsky’s thought may be thus summarized: +The human soul was to him of incommunicable, +unique value. And not only the human soul of the +higher ranks of society, but that of the lower, the +“injured and oppressed,” those who had been +warped and embittered by the world and by man. +Dostoevsky knew well that he was such a warped +individual, and that nothing could heal him except +some miracle of divine and earthly harmony. This +miracle could only be brought about by the production +of some superior human type, who would at +once be “master of the world,” a superman and yet +one who sympathised and understood the lowest +<span class="pagenum" id="p_255">[255]</span>and most degraded of men. But the trouble was +that such types, the Father Zossimas, the Alyosha +Karamazovs, the Prince Myshkins, stood aloof from +the world and innocent of its temptations, they were +ineffectual pure fools, and in the world’s eyes, +“Idiots.” On the other hand the world, and Russia +in particular (in whose destiny Dostoevsky forced +himself to believe with the anguished fervor of one +who had been made to suffer by it, and yet who had +no other country) was likely to progress in the +exactly opposite direction and to produce the anti-Christian +“superman,” the serene monster, cold-bloodedly +dabbling in ultimate iniquity. Dostoevsky’s +major work is a vast descent into the abyss +of human perversion, at the bottom of which stood +hell, like a “cold bathhouse filled with spiders.” If +Tolstoy was as Adam before the fall, Dostoevsky +was Adam after.</p> + +<p>Herman Melville, on the other hand, was born +in the inner circle of America’s colonial aristocracy. +His father, a descendant of English landowners +and Revolutionary patriots, travelled abroad as a +young man, was highly cultivated for his time, but +allowed the family fortune to slip through his fingers. +He died when Melville was only twelve years +old, leaving his family bankrupt. His mother, a +cold, proud, and essentially selfish descendant of the +most notable of the colonial Dutch settlers who had +<span class="pagenum" id="p_256">[256]</span>rallied to Washington’s side, did nothing to mitigate +the poverty of her family, and at the age of +seventeen, Melville shipped before the mast as a +common seaman on a voyage to Liverpool. This +voyage, later described in “Redburn,” seems to have +opened Melville’s eyes to the cruelty and injustice +of the world. He returned after a painful experience +as a penniless waif in England, to America, +and tried school teaching for a number of years. +Meanwhile he was writing, desultorily and badly. +In 1840, when twenty-one years of age, he again, +in a fit of desperation, went to sea, this time on a +whale ship bound to the South Seas. How he deserted +his ship at the Marquesas, lived for a time +with cannibals, returned to Tahiti, saw the inside +of a jail, and finally became a common seaman +aboard an American man-of-war which brought him +back to his native country, is all fully told in his +first two books “Typee,” “Omoo,” and their later +successor “White Jacket.” The return to America +in 1846 enabled Melville to devote himself to literature, +and his first book “Typee,” recounting his +adventures in the Marquesas, made a sensation in +England and America, being a “success of scandal” +in the latter country on account of certain passages +not complimentary to the missionaries in the South +Seas. After writing its successor, “Omoo,” Melville +married. The marriage, with a woman of +<span class="pagenum" id="p_257">[257]</span>wealth and position, brought only further disillusionment, +as it is apparent that Elizabeth Shaw, +daughter of the Chief Justice of Massachusetts, had +neither imagination nor tact to sympathise with her +husband’s work nor his sensitive temperament. A +family of children soon engrossed her, and Melville +was forced to struggle on alone in the effort to support +not only his wife, but his mother (who despised +him heartily) and his wife’s sister as well. There +followed in rapid succession, “Mardi” (1848), +“Redburn” (1848) and “White Jacket” (1849) +written to support his waning fortunes. In 1849, +he went to England, which had begun to take very +favourable notice of his work, and he might have +become there a minor literary lion, but family concerns, +and perhaps also his own aloof independence +of spirit, soon recalled him. The first fruits of his +return were “Moby Dick” and “Pierre,” the two +masterpieces of the mature Melville. A disastrous +fire at his publishers which destroyed the plates of +his works, the hostility of the reviewers to “Pierre,” +Hawthorne’s defection from friendship, the increasing +lack of understanding of his own family, +and ill-health, all conspired to embitter him. After +one or two further attempts, and a second trip +abroad on which he wrote the poem “Clarel,” which +could not even find a publisher, Melville retired +from the field. His last years were spent as collector +<span class="pagenum" id="p_258">[258]</span>of the customs of the port of New York, +where he died in 1891. His death passed absolutely +unnoticed, and it is only in the last decade that he +has begun to emerge into the fame that life denied +him.</p> + +<p>Melville’s work began as a continuation of the +adventure story as practised by Cooper. “Typee” +and “Omoo” are largely what they purport to be; +a sublimation of actual experience of a white man +amongst strange countries and savage peoples with +a considerable dash of idyllic and exotic colouring. +But Melville’s attitude towards the savages of the +South Seas (to which he came, be it noted, after +the disillusionment and shattering of early romantic +hopes recounted in “Redburn”) was very different +from the skilled idealisation of the remote practised +by Cooper. He was the first man to ask himself +and others the question, “If this savage life is so +much more rational and sensible than Christianity, +why pretend to be Christian?”—a question to which +to this day there has remained no answer. Thus +he early became profoundly suspicious of the virtues +of his own countrymen, while at the same time +(like Dostoevsky) he knew himself innately bound +to his own country by unbreakable ties. He thus +affirms the sole achievement that Christianity really +has to its credit, the conquest of the world by +democracy, while at the same time his eyes are open +<span class="pagenum" id="p_259">[259]</span>to all the evil done daily in the world in the name of +democracy. This profound division of self, this +inner warping grew up early in him, and the struggle +was but intensified by his boyish adoration of +his selfish, purse-proud, and beautiful mother, +which turned to disgust after his father’s death. +Thus he interjected into the sea-story elements +which had nothing whatever to do with realistic +experience; elements derived from his profound +knowledge of the ways of humanity, intensified by +his own loneliness and aloofness from mankind. +Very early he seems to have traversed the waste of +German metaphysics, and to have become a transcendentalist, +if not before Emerson, at least coeval +with Hawthorne. Each of the major novels, “Redburn,” +“White Jacket,” “Moby Dick,” “Mardi,” is +less the description of an actual voyage than a terrible +allegoric record of spiritual defeat and despair. +Even “Redburn,” the one most based perhaps on +actual experience, is haunted by the figure of Jackson, +a vision of pure unadulterated evil; and the +two last are desperate flights of imagination away +from the world. In all his best work, except +“Pierre,” Melville makes us walk a ship’s deck, +which should be the breeding ground of the most +mystic whole-hearted democracy on earth, and in +every line and passage he shows us how this fair +scene, seen from within man’s soul, is only hell.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_260">[260]</span></p> + + +<h4 id="3_10"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>It is customary among literary critics to devote +attention to Melville’s remarkable style, and to +stress the point that Dostoevsky’s major novels are +nothing but glorified detective stories. It is true +that Melville possessed a style that in its measured +eloquence was the equal and sometimes the superior +of his models, De Quincey and Sir Thomas Browne, +and that—at its best—makes the style of Hawthorne +shrivel into insignificance. It is true also +that all of Dostoevsky’s great works centre about a +commonplace murder, and that he uses the most +elementary devices of suspense and horror to +heighten our interest about this murder. But the +significant thing is that neither Melville’s long +purple passages, surcharged with descriptive power, +by which he makes you see every detail of his scenes +in an unearthly light, nor Dostoevsky’s interminable +hysteric conversations, in which each of his +characters tries in turn to lay bare the inmost criminal +secret of his or her soul, are anything more +than skilful devices to set out the heart of the subject, +which is in both cases the complete, candid, and +terribly disillusioned revelation of the workings of +the naked and helplessly-entangled human soul. +Both carried pure character-creation to a point +beyond that which any other writer has attempted, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_261">[261]</span>except perhaps Shakespeare in “Hamlet”; and +both, like Shakespeare in “Hamlet,” were obsessed +by their characters, and obsessed above all by the +“mystery of iniquity,” the infinite perversion and +moral deformity of humankind.</p> + +<p>It is possible to show how this is so only by a +direct comparison of the masterpiece of both men. +“The Brothers Karamazov” is outwardly, at least, +the story of the murder of a wealthy landowner by +his sons. But a moment’s examination of the character +of old Karamazov, the landowner in question, +will convince us that no such man as old Karamazov +could possibly exist in actual flesh. He transcends +all human limitations. He is not only a +coarse wine-bibber, and an avaricious miser with his +money, like Dostoevsky’s own father, but an unbridled +sensualist, a cynic, a sentimentalist, and a +buffoon—none of which Dostoevsky’s father ever +was. He is, in short, an encyclopædia of all Russian +vices, is in fact, a symbol of that Old Russia +which Dostoevsky saw had to be put to death. And +as such, he triumphs in life and death over his sons. +The oldest, Ivan, who is also the noblest, sees his +faith in God and man destroyed by the monstrous +conduct of his father, and goes insane; the second, +Dmitri, follows a crooked path of sensuality and +sentimentality, but is redeemed by some traits of +generosity for which he has to suffer; the youngest +<span class="pagenum" id="p_262">[262]</span>of all, Alyosha, fancies that he has gained redemption +and become “a new man” by entering a monastery, +but in the end has to admit that he too is in +essence “Karamazov.” The actual murder is consummated +by Smerdyakov, the unacknowledged +offspring of Karamazov himself and a gutter-drab; +he hangs himself, and Dmitri has to suffer the penalty. +The end of the book leaves Dostoevsky questioning +alike human and divine justice; there is no +solution, except perhaps in suffering, and the shout +of “Hurrah for Karamazov!” with which the story +closes, may conceal an even deadlier irony.</p> + +<p>Melville’s “Moby Dick” is very different as regards +setting, but its import is even more clear. +Here we have what purports to be the story of a +whaling-cruise. But in fact the story from beginning +to end is pure allegory, thinly disguised with +masses of irrelevant detail about whales and whaling. +Moby Dick, the White Whale, whose killing +is the special aim of the ship’s cruise, is nothing but +a symbol: a symbol of the unearthly, unconquerable, +superhuman—and after all is said and done, +strangely beautiful—power of evil. He exists in +every sea of the world, but it is precisely in the +“Pacific,” in the heart of a noonday calm, that he +is found. He has been sighted before, but never +without disaster; has been hunted by others, but +has always escaped. Captain Ahab, master of the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_263">[263]</span>ship that is now seeking him, has been disabled by +him, in a previous encounter, having lost one leg. +This Captain Ahab is Melville’s symbol of the +human will in its highest and most courageous aspect; +the human will that, not having been able to +conquer evil by fair means, in direct battle, now +strives to do so by unhallowed ones. By a stroke +of superb genius, Melville makes him master even +of the souls of simple savages; his three chief harpooners +are respectively a South Sea Islander, a +Negro, and an American Indian. His control over +his three mates, all of whom represent some shade +of manly courage, is also practically absolute. +Moby Dick is duly hunted, and destroys the ship +and Ahab alike in a scene whose magnificence of +prose and mounting terror alike have no parallel +in anything written by man. The only person who +has foreseen the inevitable tragedy is an idiot boy, +to whom no one pays attention; the only one who +survives it is the outcast, Ishmael, who tells the +story.</p> + +<p>Here, too, the parallel with Shakespeare is inevitable. +As Dostoevsky recalls “Hamlet,” and in +part “Othello,” so Melville recalls the Shakespeare +of “Macbeth” and “King Lear.” If we can suppose +a Lear endowed with superhuman force, who +instead of wandering out upon the heath and raving, +feeds his insanity with the steady thought of +<span class="pagenum" id="p_264">[264]</span>revenge, and at last sets out, backed by others, to +accomplish it, we get in this Lear a complete picture +of Ahab. He is undaunted, so long as his ship +lasts, ready to match weapons with God Himself. +Only when his ship goes down before the battering +onrush of the superhuman power behind Moby +Dick does Ahab momentarily give way; and then +but to recover and hurl another unavailing harpoon +at his antagonist. Ship and captain alike go down +in the struggle, and the last thing seen is a topmast +pennon floating above the waters, with a sky-hawk +entangled in its folds: “And so the bird of heaven +with his whole captive form enfolded in the flag of +Ahab, went down with his ship which, like Satan, +would not sink to hell till she had dragged a living +part of heaven along with her, and helmeted herself +in it.” “Then all collapsed and the great shroud of +the sea rolled on as it rolled five thousand years +ago.” To the problem of evil Melville has no more +an answer, then, than Dostoevsky. He can but +suggest that if evil conquers, it is so much the worse +for God who lets evil conquer; a solution to which +Dostoevsky might have answered in the words of +Kirillov in “The Possessed,” that God in that case +was dead, and man must become God. That Melville +adds his favourite tag “all is vanity,” to this +conclusion would seem to Dostoevsky an impertinence. +“We have to live nevertheless,” he might +<span class="pagenum" id="p_265">[265]</span>have retorted; a fact poor Melville often neglected +to take into account.</p> + +<p>Before Melville arrived at this conclusion, that +the world was more evil than good, he too had +striven to portray the ideal human type of his +dreams. Jack Chase in “White Jacket” (who is +significantly made an Englishman) is the apotheosis +of Melville’s type; the bluff, hearty, pleasant +Anglo-Saxon blend of Pagan and Puritan. Perhaps +it was his own wavering between England and +America (where the bluff, hearty, pleasant type is +but too frequently in practice a hypocrite and a +bully to boot) that made Melville select for his life’s +loyalty, this sort of being, and not continue his +search into the deeper waters of the human soul; +certainly it was his own reticent prudery in sexual +matters—a prudery not shared by the great Russian +with whom his name is here linked—that made +him hesitate before what must have been the final +statement of his problem. What that statement +might have been, “Pierre” exists to show; Melville +in the end meant to portray evil as seductive but +ruinous, and good as purely negative and helpless. +The public would have none of this, and Melville decided +to keep silent about the dangerous secret of his +own philosophy. That he did not continue to write +was America’s second great disaster in the field of +culture; following on the Civil War, it was a double +<span class="pagenum" id="p_266">[266]</span>fatality scarcely paralleled elsewhere, and certainly +not in Russia. But in his transformation of the +realistic adventure story into the “allegory of Good +and Evil” Melville perhaps pointed the way to +American authors as yet unborn.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_267">[267]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_XIII"> + Chapter XIII + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>The last chapter of our study of the two literatures—Russian +and American—has, in its +study of four great figures, brought the story to a +climax. Nothing is more characteristic of the +mental history of the two countries than the way +in which under Whitman and Tolstoy, Dostoevsky +and Melville, the whole problem of democracy in +relation to art, and the whole problem of human +aspiration in its strife with evil, was examined and +investigated. But the generation that followed was +not able to profit by their example. The great +climax was succeeded by an anti-climax; and Russian +literature, no less than American literature, +after the seventies, assumes the picture of a sterile +and uncultivated plain.</p> + +<p>This state of affairs was due to the operation of +social and economic causes. The great reforms +adopted in Russia by Alexander II to signalise his +advent to the throne were halted; first, by an attempt +at assassination made in 1866; second, by the +sort of advance <i>en masse</i> which always takes place +in Russian history after a period of increasing internal +<span class="pagenum" id="p_268">[268]</span>peace and prosperity. The surplus population +of released serfs and discontented landowners +now swarmed east across the Urals and opened up +the whole of the fertile lands of Siberia to the +borders of Mongolia. This expansion was followed +by the usual reaction in the shape of a war with +Russia’s old enemy Turkey (1877); a war in which +Russia gained nothing, and which disillusioned +everybody, including even the Slavophils.</p> + +<p>The course of events in America was not essentially +different. The close of the Civil War marked +an enormous expansion of the American territory +westward, and the whole region, from the foothills +of the Rockies to the Sierras and beyond to the Pacific +became inhabited. The first transcontinental +railway was built in the shape of the Missouri Pacific; +and the period of the seventies was a period +of furious speculation, of fierce political tension, of +steady industrial growth and agricultural expansion. +In this “Gilded Age” of America’s new-won +prosperity, the question of a native culture and of +the fine arts were largely lost sight of. The only +part of the country that resisted the general drive +towards increasing economic and industrial development +was the South, and that lay fettered and +bound by the Reconstruction Acts, and was unable +to do anything for itself until after 1876—the date +of the Tilden-Hayes election.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_269">[269]</span></p> + +<p>The prevailing characteristic of this period is the +increasing influence of Europe upon the two countries. +Alexander Second’s action in liberating the +serfs had thrown the gates open to all the ideas of +European liberalism. The opening up of the western +plains and the vast region between the Rockies +and the Pacific with its wealth in minerals, as well +as its cattle-raising possibilities, opened the gates no +less to the countless hosts of European settlers. +The Irish had already been coming since the terrible +famine years of 1845-7, and the Germans too had +come over ever since the forties. By the outbreak +of the Civil War the original native-born population +had begun to be outnumbered by the hosts of +immigrants that passed steadily through the Narrows. +After 1870, with the Prussian monarchy in +complete control over Germany, the House of +Savoy in control of Italy, and England less disposed +than ever to give the Irish Home Rule, the +swarms of immigrants increased, fed by thousands +whose ancestors had fought and died in the cause +of Republicanism in some part or the other of +Europe, and by millions who were attracted across +the Atlantic simply by the steamer-agent’s tales of +Western prosperity. The Italians, notably, soon +became as prominent as the Irish and the Germans; +and to all these races were added Scandinavians, +Czechs, Hungarians, Lithuanians, Poles from the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_270">[270]</span>eastern frontiers of Europe, and Jews from every +part of the world. The three states of the remote +northwest, Washington, Oregon, and Idaho increased +their population from 282,000 in 1880 to +763,000 in 1890 and to two millions in 1910; while +California which contained only five hundred thousand +people when the first transcontinental railway +was finished in 1869, added more than half the same +number to its inhabitants in the next decade. In +twenty years after 1870, the population of Kansas, +Nebraska, and the Dakotas was increased sixfold. +The city of Chicago which had only 350 population +in 1833, by 1840 contained over four thousand, and +in 1870 had swollen to the enormous figure of three +hundred thousand! Thus while Russia added to its +power by spreading a homogeneous population over +immense tracts of unsettled country eastward, +America obtained a firm grip on its own domain +by importing heterogeneous populations into the +vast tract of unsettled country westward.⁠<a id="FNanchor_7_7" href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p> + +<p>It is impossible, therefore, in the thirty years that +followed 1865, to construct anything resembling a +cultural history of either Russia or America. At +least, literature will not serve so completely as an +index to the flow of ideas that took place in this +period. The Russian genius during this period +<span class="pagenum" id="p_271">[271]</span>manifested itself best in music; this was the period +of Tschaikowsky, Rimsky-Korsakov, Mussorgsky, +Borodin. In America the genius of the race took +up architecture, and it was the Golden Age of +Richard Morris Hunt, of Richardson, Root, +McKim, Louis Sullivan, and of the craftsmen like +La Farge and St. Gaudens who worked with them. +In each case, it was a period of eclecticism. In +Russia the German-Italian form of symphony and +opera was borrowed, and was filled with a content +that was essentially rooted in folk-emotion; in +America the style of the Beaux-Arts or of Ancient +Rome or the Early Middle Ages was equally borrowed, +to be infused with native-born force and +energy. The most original—because the least foreign—elements +in this development had the most +difficult task to survive. They had to learn how +to speak their message of purely native inspiration +in a language that, through derivation from European +tradition, was completely alien to them. One +might draw a not uninstructive parallel between +Mussorgsky, the most Russian of Russian composers, +and the gifted but unfortunate Louis Sullivan. +Each had much to say to their generation that no +one would accept. But this is not the place for +such a comparison, inasmuch as we have from the +outset decided to confine our critical investigation +to the limits of a single art, that of literature.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_272">[272]</span></p> + + +<h4 id="2_12"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>American literature during the period of the +seventies and eighties was entirely dominated by +the figure of Samuel Langhorne Clemens, known +to innumerable admirers as “Mark Twain.” At +first sight, his work is on so much a lower level than +that of Hawthorne, Henry James or Whitman as +to be unworthy of consideration in the opinion of +the few culture-saturated critics who mostly arrange +and settle the merit of authors. And it is +worth noticing that Clemens carried out his work +without any particular encouragement from such +intellectual critics. Their encouragement only +came to him at the close of his life, when he was +already writing sentimental and feebly grotesque +satires on life in general, and vainly setting up as a +philosopher with his assault on Christian Science, +and the desolatingly mechanistic view of life set out +in “What is Man?” The fact is, that for the latter +part of his life, Mark Twain, profiting by an immense +popularity, wrote nothing but superior journalism +or feeble echoes of his own inimitable early +self. That early self left an immortal residue in +only three volumes—“Tom Sawyer,” “Huckleberry +Finn,” and the first twenty chapters of “Life on +the Mississippi.” If we add to this the figure of +Colonel Mulberry Sellers in the book appropriately +<span class="pagenum" id="p_273">[273]</span>called “The Gilded Age,” and a few chapters of +“Roughing It,” we obtain all of Mark Twain that +posterity will presumably read and cherish.</p> + +<p>Mark Twain is the perfect type of the backwoodsman +in letters. His early training as a newspaper +man gave him sufficient command over the +written word to express himself clearly, and an +early roving life, with its picturesque experience, +did the rest. In so far as he had any philosophy +of life at all, it was a doctrine to the effect that the +uncultivated and native present day is worth all the +feudal past, and that homely shrewdness and simplicity +is better than spiritual and intellectual mastery. +This doctrine has its affinities to the glorification +of the “average man” preached by Whitman, +and in the later Mark Twain one finds as it were, +Whitman simplified and caricatured:—the Yankee +is superior to King Arthur, democracy is superior +to aristocracy, machinery is more than great painting +and music, woman is inevitably a superior <i>genus</i> +to man. But no one reads Mark Twain for his +philosophy nowadays, though thousands have read +him for his unsurpassed pictures of frontier types, +for his description of an America that has vanished +before the advance of the modern mechanical civilisation +which it brought in its train. The finest of +his works, “Huckleberry Finn,” and “Life on the +Mississippi,” are immense picaresque epics of irresponsible +<span class="pagenum" id="p_274">[274]</span>adventure. To find anything resembling +them one has to go back to Europe of the sixteenth +century. They represent a stage of history Europe +had long outgrown; a youth-time in a world +which was innocent alike of culture and of morality. +Mark Twain himself said of his finest book that +it had no moral, and that “they who find a plot in +it, shall be shot.” In “Huckleberry Finn” there is +no plot but only happenings: a mad, gay, and cruel +<i>reductio ad absurdum</i> of life itself, as lived under +frontier conditions, with the incurable nostalgia for +romantic and picturesque escapades (witness Jim’s +release from the lock-up, or the episode of the false +Dauphin and the Duke) leading the story on.</p> + +<p>The proper parallel here is with Nicholas Leskov +(or Lyeskov). This author, practically unknown +out of Russia, owed his popularity among the uncultivated +public to the astounding freshness of his +rendering of remote Russian life—the life of priests +in tiny villages, of fishermen and hunters, of tramps +and vagabonds. It is only of recent years that +foreign critics have observed that in reading Lyeskov, +we are reading the most Russian of authors. +Dostoevsky’s Russia is a distorted picture, tinged +with his own spiritual struggle; Tolstoy’s is a great +epic warped by his own perverse intellect; but Lyeskov +is observer pure and simple. He too, like +Clemens, had to suffer from an early period in +<span class="pagenum" id="p_275">[275]</span>which his work was utterly despised by the literary +intelligentsia—who were more highly polished and +socialistic, in a materialistic sense, in their work. +He also had a late period in which he comes nearer +and nearer to the sentimental side of Tolstoy, as +Clemens had a period in which he apes Whitman. +But the essential Lyeskov is the unsurpassed portrayer +of the Russian frontier, and of its cruel, care-free, +and purposeless life. His masterpiece, “The +Enchanted Wanderer,” recently translated into +English, is even in its translation a work of immense +sane humanity and humour. Like “Huckleberry +Finn,” it is a picaresque novel, and like that book +it has neither plot nor moral. It is folk-tale pure +and simple, stripped of all accretions of superstition, +symbolism, and magic, and with nothing but +the rounded note of a persistent religious nostalgia +(akin to Tom Sawyer’s nostalgic longings for romance +and adventure) to give it coherence.</p> + +<p>It would be a mistake however to suppose that +either Lyeskov or Mark Twain were anything more +than exceptions in the course of their respective +literatures during this period. The whole epoch +from 1870 down to the end of the century is marked +by a progressive drifting apart of the two countries +which had so nearly coincided in spirit in Whitman +and Tolstoy, Melville and Dostoevsky. This drifting +apart was marked by an increasing outward +<span class="pagenum" id="p_276">[276]</span>standardisation of effort. It was during this period +that the standardised Russian revolutionary, +mouthing all the catchwords of advanced European +materialism, began to appear, to be matched by his +contemporary, the standardised American business +man. Each class consumed the sort of literature +that was suited to its palate. In Russia there +flourished the peasant novel of highly socialistic +tendencies, the works of Gleb Uspensky, Pissemsky, +Korolenko, and the bitterer and more intellectually +upright Saltykov-Schedrin. In America the +type of fiction most in demand dealt mainly with +cultivated, well-to-do people, was generally optimistic +in outlook, but was no less surely an article +prepared to satisfy popular demand. Its best output +was in the tales of Howells, Cable, Thomas +Nelson Page, James Lane Allen, Mrs. Wharton. +The honest peasant of the one matches pretty completely +the upright capitalist (usually the last scion +of an old southern or New England family) of the +other. But the line of advance, which was to produce +the most revolutionary fruit in the nineties, +lay through the short story.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_11"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>The short story as practised in the Occident +throughout the nineteenth century, is in fact a typically +<span class="pagenum" id="p_277">[277]</span>oversophisticated and decadent art-form. To +the mind of the highly cultured but impotently +sensitive reader it presents not the great curve of +emotion that the finest poetry offers, not the “allegory +addressed to the intellectual imagination” of +great prose, not even the panoramic viewpoint of +outer action or of spiritual abysses that the novel +reveals, but a cool complete piece of minor architecture, +a fragment of life, a detached statement +that has neither past nor future implied in it. The +short stories of the East are largely different. They +are popular epics, and different also in their moral +earnestness and immense range in short compass +are the short stories of Balzac, Flaubert, Hawthorne. +The technically perfect modern short story +has no moral earnestness, no message, it merely is +an incident revealed so completely as to leave no +loophole for the imagination. It is objective reporting, +informed by a mood; and no one carried +the art of short story writing further in these respects +than the American Stephen Crane and the +Russian Anton Tchekhov.</p> + +<p>The comparison between the methods of Crane +and Tchekhov has been made before, but it is one +that will bear reiteration. It extends even to personal +and social characteristics. Both were descendants +of old petty bourgeois families, long +settled on the soil. Both graduated through journalism +<span class="pagenum" id="p_278">[278]</span>into their art. Tchekhov began by writing +quite commonplace and feeble comic stories, and +Crane wasted a great deal of his time on hackwork. +Both were irregular workers, and were men of +feeble health. Indeed the only difference is that +Tchekhov, thanks to his life as a country physician, +matured later and gained a greater final mastery +over his material than Crane.</p> + +<p>The aim of both was an entirely impersonal and +objective presentation of life. This has been called +realism, but in both Crane’s and Tchekhov’s case, it +came nearer impressionism than realism. Each was +at the mercy of a single mood which is reiterated in +their stories <i>ad nauseam</i>. In Tchekhov’s case the +mood is deliberately low-toned, sombre, and neutral—a +mood of resignation, of quiescence, of Buddhistic +absorption into Nirvana. In Crane’s case the +mood is one of racketing excitement, fierce and +brutal display of energy. On these two moods +each exhausted the resources of their art: Crane +his color vowels, and sudden startling comparisons; +Tchekhov his monotonous deliberately prosaic +effect. But in each case, the mood flows out of an +attitude towards life that is the same. To both the +world, and particularly nature, is deliberately hostile, +alien to the human spirit. Before this tragic +fact, Tchekhov counselled acceptance, endurance; +Crane on the other hand advocated a furious display +<span class="pagenum" id="p_279">[279]</span>of heroic energy. Thus Crane is most completely +the artist when his frequently violent satiric +intention is laid aside, and he can play the part +of the poet of action, as in the superb “Red +Badge of Courage,” which first won him fame, and +which is free from his stoical fatalism. Tchekhov +is, on the other hand, at his best in his plays, notably +“The Cherry Orchard,” where he loses sight of his +own sentimentalism, and works with at least some +underlying satiric intent. Neither, however, ever +wrote a complete masterpiece, nor were they capable +of doing so. Despite the activities of the +Tchekhov cult we must insist that the American at +his best frequently appears the finer artist, as in +this story already mentioned, or in “The Open +Boat.” He at least had a supreme power of visualising +a scene, and a trick of individualising his +characters by one outstanding trait or peculiarity +which the Russian lacked, though this is perhaps +counterbalanced by Tchekhov’s more complete +mastery over architectural form.</p> + +<p>Both were minor writers, because they were +fatalists. To the great writer life is a fatality, +frequently a tragedy, but not a tragedy preordained. +But this sense of being doomed by external +fatality, by the insignificant fact, is the very +basis of Tchekhov’s work—and the same sense +haunted Crane in his brief, agitated life. They +<span class="pagenum" id="p_280">[280]</span>were both, it is possible, depressed beyond the +normal in their personal temperaments. But still +more certainly, the period in which they lived was +one in which major art was not possible. In America +the plutocrats of the Gilded Age were going +down in a blaze of glory. Outrageous and shameless +coarseness and corruption was mingled with +hypocritic parade of lip-service to genteel virtue; +European snobbery walked arm in arm with a pretence +of democratic simplicity. In Russia, the +dreary record of reaction under Alexander III was +trailing to its unhonoured grave in the sink of official +corruption under Nicholas. Both Crane and +Tchekhov were victims of their times, and both +held the art for art’s sake theory far more sincerely +probably than their European contemporaries. +Both with supreme skill showed that even when +held sincerely, it but resulted in the best cases, in +something philosophically incomplete; at the worst, +in a personal tic, a mannerism.</p> + + +<h4 id="4_8"> + 4 +</h4> + +<p>The high technical level to which Crane and +Tchekhov had brought their art, combined with +their avoidance of philosophic content, were both +symptoms of the gulf down which the American +and the Russian spirit had descended since the high-water +<span class="pagenum" id="p_281">[281]</span>mark in the sixties. Multitudes of men now +knew that something was wrong; but few could +suggest a remedy. Two men, however, by their +personal effort, attempted at least to stay or fix +the retrograde movement of the spirit by attempting +the <i>Weltanschauung</i> of a formal philosophy. +These men were Vladimir Soloviev and William +James.</p> + +<p>Before their coming, neither country had known +anything resembling a formal philosophy. Emerson, +it is true, had raised himself to the dignity of +being ranked as one; but Emerson was in truth at +bottom partly a mystic poet, partly a shrewd detached +commentator on events. His best work +bears as little relation to philosophy definitely so +called, as the more pessimistically colored—but not +less philosophical in content—poetry of Tyutchev +bears to the German transcendentalism of his time. +In any case, James did not derive his philosophy +from Emerson, but from an attitude much more +matter-of-fact. He obtained it from the New England +practical spirit, the “desire to get on in life,” +the everyday common sense that was, when he +wrote, proving so morally inadequate to deal with +the ever-increasing problems of capitalism and industrialism. +In his insistence on practicality, on the +“truth that works,” on “the cash-value of thought,” +William James was nearer to the needs and demands +<span class="pagenum" id="p_282">[282]</span>of the average man as posited by Whitman; +and much of his democratic outlook, his homely +honesty of phrase was in fact due to Whitman. +Similarly Soloviev drew his own preoccupation with +moral problems, not from any preceding thinker, +but direct from the piercing analysis of Dostoevsky.</p> + +<p>Both James and Soloviev were educated and +spent much of their lives abroad. The substance +of their thought was derived in part from European, +in part from American sources. The aim in each +case was to reconcile two divergent streams of +thought, to bring them into harmony. James after +an early career in which he had tried to be an artist, +engineer and physician in turn, turned to psychology. +But his real interest lay outside the bounds of +psychology—at that time dominated by the methods +of the purely psycho-physical school. His early +upbringing as a Swedenborgian, as well as a highly +sensitive temperament, drew him to the investigation +of religious phenomena, and all his life he +strove to reconcile the higher ranges of mysticism, +ecstasy, union with God, heroic self-sacrifice, with +the plain common-sense of the average American +type. Thus he was led to attempt to find a common +ground between “radical empiricism”—the search +for the usable truth, the trial-and-error, rule-of-thumb, +method of the pragmatist—and the utterly +unpractical absolute standpoint of the visionary. +<span class="pagenum" id="p_283">[283]</span>In order to do so, he had to attack the point of view +of the earlier idealists of the Kant and Hegel type, +men who had inherited something of the old methods +of scholasticism. He had to treat human life +and aspiration not as an end, but an instrument; +and to regard the universe not as a finished article, +but as a pluralistic chaos. That he still strove to +redeem that chaos consequently became merely a +personal gesture, and not at all a question of final +significance. In this, too, he resembles his spiritual +progenitor, Walt Whitman.</p> + +<p>Vladimir Soloviev was trained as a historian. +He absorbed the historical sense from his father +who had written a history of Russia, and his early +work was devoted to Church History. In examining +the history of Christianity he was struck by the +fact that the Eastern and Western Churches had +separated, and that neither was in agreement with +Protestantism. This schism seemed to him to show +that Christianity had somehow failed to fulfil the +aim of its Founder, and he set himself the task of +preaching the necessity of an undivided Church. +This was the substance of his book “Russia and the +Universal Church” which with its definitely Romanising +tone was forbidden by the Russian censorship +and had to appear first in a French translation. +But even the Roman Church could not hold him +for long. Christianity itself was worthless as a +<span class="pagenum" id="p_284">[284]</span>revelation of God’s purpose to man, except where +based on a universal moral law, the “natural religion” +of the eighteenth-century deists. To find +this moral law seemed to him the aim of science; +to invest it with all the grandeur of a revelation +from on high was the purpose of religion. Thus +Soloviev was led to try and reconcile the evolutionary +theory of the West with the Eastern Orthodox +tradition. In so doing he was forced to oppose the +theories of the Schopenhauer and Tolstoy school +which would strip religion of all its magic and mystic +significance, and reduce life to passive non-resistance; +a tendency which as he pointed out, was +Buddhist, not Christian.</p> + +<p>Moreover there remained for Soloviev the outstanding +question which was, “If there is a universal +moral law and if the Church itself can teach that +law better than the Tolstoyan rationalist, why is +there so much evil in the world, and what is the way +to get rid of this evil?” The answer was that the +evil was permitted by God, and that the only way to +get rid of it was through ascetism, mortification of +the flesh. There can be no doubt that Soloviev +through the adoption of ascetic practices, deliberately +shortened his own life. He was led therefore +more and more to a position in which the whole +history of the world appears as simply a gigantic +conflict between Good and Evil. This position is +<span class="pagenum" id="p_285">[285]</span>not Christian; it is in reality, Manichean. There is +not one God, but two; God and Satan divide mankind +between themselves, until the end of the world. +Thus Soloviev ultimately found his problem unsolvable, +and lapsed into a pluralism more logical +and definite, and far more honest and despairing +than the optimistic pluralism of James.</p> + +<p>It seems a great tragedy that the American in +the end gave his adherence to the philosophy of +Bergson, with its aimless yielding to the endless +flux, and its refusal of all stability to the intellect; +while the Russian in his turn, preoccupied with the +problem of evil, saw in the end Tolstoy as a precursor +of Antichrist and wrote the half-insane rhapsody +of the end of history which fills the last pages +of his “Three Conversations.” But in reality this +tragedy was inevitable in both cases. The endless +flux of Bergsonism bolstered James in the last of his +illusions, the illusion that all good Americans are +born and die with, the illusion that in the race of +modern progress, America is ahead of the world and +the world will be saved through her; while Soloviev’s +ultimate denial of moral progress, apart from the +established Orthodox faith, saved the last of his illusions, +the typically Russian illusion that Russia by +remaining backward and resisting the West, will +yet save the world. Each of these men is a standing +proof that outside the frontiers of Europe, impersonal +<span class="pagenum" id="p_286">[286]</span>thought, thought that is detached from +daily circumstances is utterly impossible. Each is +a vivid, embittered, and intensely honest and typical +commentary on the hollowness and pretentiousness +of European philosophy, when applied to conditions +of life that remain outside the orbit of purely European +interests.</p> + + +<h4 id="5"> + 5 +</h4> + +<p>With the onset of the twentieth century, we witness +America and Russia taking up the same weapons +in their rearguard battle with cosmopolitanism +and Europeanism. The weapon in each case is +that of realism. Thus in each country a school of +writers sprung up to whom literature was largely +a protest against unequal social conditions, injustices +in the body politic, the yawning cleft between +the rich and the poor, and the moral decay consequent +upon the general nineteenth-century “<i>laissez-faire</i>” +attitude. It is profitable to compare the +school which is represented by Gorky, Kuprin, +Bunin, in Russia with the group whose leading +members in America were Edith Wharton, Upton +Sinclair, Frank Norris, Robert Herrick. But we +cannot really distinguish these writers on the basis +of literary merit. They gave us naturalistic documents +rather than artistic interpretations. Their +work was interesting as protest mainly: the <i>Weltanschauung</i> +<span class="pagenum" id="p_287">[287]</span>of these writers, if they possessed one, +was pure naturalism, and as naturalists pure and +simple they produced documents but not art. Some +exception might be made for Gorky and Mrs. +Wharton’s “Ethan Frome,” but except for the fact +that the Americans chose their favourite heroes +from business men enmeshed in their own toils, +and the Russians from tramps and outlaws, there +is but little otherwise to choose between them.</p> + +<p>It is more instructive to note the damage which +the theories of this group did to highly talented +individual artists, like Leonid Andreiev and Jack +London. Both might, under happier auspices, have +been poets and it is worth noting that whenever +either dealt with the material most known to them, +the life of little insignificant out-of-the-way villages +in the case of Andreiev (“The Governor,” or +“In the Fog”) or the life of the untamed frontier +in the case of London (“The Call of the Wild,” +“Burning Daylight”), each wrote something that +might be called a minor classic. But Andreiev’s pretentious +and melodramatic insistence on the “madness +and horror,” the void of life, together with his +heavy sentimentalism (derived from doses of +Schopenhauer and Tolstoy) is as meaningless to us +as was London’s confused minglings of Nietzschean +master-morality with crude Socialistic strivings. +London’s “Sea Wolf” is, as a character, as much a +<span class="pagenum" id="p_288">[288]</span>bit of pasteboard as Andreiev’s “Lazarus.” Both +London and his Russian contemporary, were supremely +honest men, who rejected with contempt +the hypocritical lip-service to theory paid by the +social reformers of their days; both preferred to be +immoralists rather than sentimentalists, and it is +for this that we must respect them, rather than for +any good work. For it is obvious that both had +their heads turned by early successes, and were victims +of their own love of melodramatic excess. That +two such men should have lacked moral stability +sufficient to keep them from drinking themselves +to death, shows how far the social order in America +and Russia of their time was on the way to the +abyss.</p> + +<p>After their day the drive to naturalism continued, +but on a lower level, having largely thrown overboard +the general flavour of moral teaching that +still persisted in the work of the earlier naturalists. +The figure of the “business superman” appeared in +America as the figure of the “sexual superman” +appeared in Russia. Theodore Dreiser became +responsible for the one, and Mikhail Artzybashev +for the other. Whether there is really very much +to choose between them as art-products is a question +that time must settle. It is more important to +note that this phase did not in any case last long. +Between the year 1900 and the outbreak of the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_289">[289]</span>great war there rose up in both countries a revolt +against the “social document,” and the naturalistic +attitude towards life. This revolt took the form +mainly of a more symbolical treatment of facts, +and it expressed itself not in prose but in poetry. +Thus Robinson, Frost, Lindsay, Sandburg, Miss +Lowell, Conrad Aiken and Robinson Jeffers had +their counterparts in time and aim in Balmont, +Bryusov, Blok, Bely, Viacheslav Ivanov and Pasternak. +The value of their work becomes more +doubtful, as the younger, more savagely objective, +post-war generation takes the field to-day. What +is important to observe is that while cosmopolitan +Naturalism held the field in 1900, by 1915 the situation +was reversed and a new and more native symbolism, +combined with a groping mysticism, derived +from very primitive sources, and strongly dashed +with sexual imagery, took its place. This even +affected the prose writers such as Sologub and Sherwood +Anderson.</p> + +<p>This extraordinary reversal of literary taste, +which took place in the limits of one half a generation, +is a tragic indication of the fact that the +mentality of Russia and America had already +grown unstable. Instead of the long quarrel between +upholders of mystic orthodoxy and advanced +materialists, between Slavophils and Westernizers, +literary conservators and outlaws, being settled, it +<span class="pagenum" id="p_290">[290]</span>had grown more acute until the whole structure of +society was rent by it from top to bottom. In the +early twentieth century both Russia and America +had to choose to break again with their past, to +become something essentially different, as they had +chosen in 1688, between 1773 and 1790, and in 1860. +To show what the break was, and its results, it is +necessary to turn back to the course of our interrupted +historical survey.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_291">[291]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="BOOK_IV"> + BOOK IV + </h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_292">[292]</span></p> + +<blockquote class="constrain"> +<p><i>“The union of Russian revolutionary inspiration with +the American practical spirit; this is the essence of practical +Leninism.”</i></p> + +<p class="right"> + <span class="allsmcap">JOSEPH STALIN.</span> +</p> + +<p class="p2"><i>“Machinery, the modern Messiah.”</i></p> + +<p class="right"> + <span class="allsmcap">HENRY FORD.</span> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_293">[293]</span></p> +</blockquote> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_XIV"> + Chapter XIV + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>The history of the nineteenth century is the +history of the decline and fall of Europe. The +logical madness of Napoleon’s attempt to transform +by the power of the sword and the brilliance +of his individual genius, a group of mutually jealous +and innately suspicious nationalities, differing in +language, religion and local tradition, into a single +unified power, failed as soon as Napoleon became +old enough to lose grip on his peculiar gifts. In this +defeat both America and Russia, as we have seen, +had their share. Russia exhausted Napoleon’s +armies, as England—the true parent of America, +and of America’s achieved Teutonic-Celtic compromise +between apparent political liberty and actual +spiritual conformity—exhausted his ideas. +During this very period England and America +drew together again, and again came into closest +spiritual contact, despite the prolonged agonies of +the Revolution, the memory of which smouldered +less in the hearts of its leaders, such as Washington +and Jefferson, than in the depths of the raw new +settlements on the Indian frontier. Indeed, had it +<span class="pagenum" id="p_294">[294]</span>not been for another characteristic piece of blundering +diplomacy on the part of England, enshrined in +what is known as Jay’s Treaty, the two countries +which had opposed each other so long and desperately, +might have come into firm alliance. The +prevailing sentiment in England, after all her wars, +successful and unsuccessful, has usually been to +shake hands with her late foe; but this refusal on the +part of the people to bear a grudge is not always +shared by the brilliant diplomats and the aristocratically +educated politicians of that paradoxical island. +What is won by the simple courage of her yeomen, +England throws away by the clever stupidity +and superiority of her politicians, who are for the +most part far too cynically sophisticated to place +any reliance on human nature. This was again the +case after the Napoleonic struggle: America and +England had to remain politically isolated—though +in fact, all their interests were shared in common—for +the simple reason that the Englishman could +only envisage empire in terms of trading posts +separated by oceans, while the American saw his +empire as new settlements spreading ever westward +across unpopulated land-wastes.</p> + +<p>On the other and eastern frontier of Europe, +where the steppes of the Ukraine unchangeably +roll up to the gates of Moscow, the armies of Napoleon +had but recently passed, strewing with the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_295">[295]</span>evidences of the most disastrous defeat in history +the snow-covered plains. The outcome of Napoleon’s +titanic failure was soon to be apparent here +not less in the spiritual than in the military sphere. +Russia moved again, and still more sharply, away +from Europe, as America had but recently and +once again moved away from England. Czar Alexander +I, who might now pride himself on the fact +that his climate, if not his armies, had defeated +Napoleon, was not in the least disposed to undervalue +the historical importance of the appearance +of that personage. To England, whether the England +was that of the yokel or the poet, of Hodge or +of Byron and Shelley, Napoleon was merely a temporary +and absurd tyrant—a Corsican ogre feasting +on the sufferings of slaves groaning beneath his +whip-lash; one who had betrayed the spirit of liberty +for a personal whim. To Alexander I and +the whole Russian people, Napoleon was the +French Revolution itself, <i>in propria persona</i>, the +Promethean fire-bringer of liberty, the logical incarnation +of a spirit opposed to historical continuity. +The fact that he wore a military uniform and +called himself Emperor, as did the Czar, did not +matter. What mattered was that one of common +birth, owning no power of descent save that conferred +on him by his own ability, the representative +of the dispossessed, the opponent of religion, and +<span class="pagenum" id="p_296">[296]</span>the overthrower everywhere of monarchy, should +dare to measure swords with the consecrated Czar +himself, whose will was sacred. This was sufficient +to identify Napoleon as Antichrist in the eyes of +Alexander and his meanest subjects alike. And the +subsequent history shows that the Czar was prepared, +by all the traditions of his breed and office, +to act upon this hint up to the limit. In order to +maintain his power intact, he had to see to it that +Europe begot no more Napoleons. His one idea +for the regeneration of the world was the establishment +of a Holy Alliance, of absolute monarchs +with the aim of upholding everywhere the sacrosanct +traditions of religion and monarchy, and +everywhere keeping down the incoherent but vital +drive to liberty that Napoleon had striven to transform +into a weapon of self-aggrandisement. Great +was Alexander’s disillusionment when he discovered +the chief opponent to this project was to be +England itself, which had but recently fought Napoleon +to the death; still greater was his despair +when he learned through the formation of the +Decembrist conspiracy, that his own intelligentsia +would not follow him. With dramatic suddenness +the vain, obstinate, fickle and shiftily brilliant creature +who had saved Europe from republicanism, +died; or, according to Russian legend, did not die, +but walked out upon the road as a pilgrim under an +<span class="pagenum" id="p_297">[297]</span>assumed name, in expiation of the crime of parricide +by which he had come to the throne. In +any case, he left Russia to a more ruthless successor, +determined alike to uphold his personal +prestige and totally undisposed to play with the +dangerously liberal notions of Europe.</p> + +<p>Here we must again remind the reader that it is +not the primary purpose of this study to provide a +detailed and objective history of either Europe, +America, or Russia as they manifested themselves +throughout the nineteenth century. Rather our +aim is to pierce everywhere through this tangled +surface of objective facts to the more permanent +realm of subjective results. The story of the nineteenth +century in Europe is, as far as the European +peoples are concerned, the story of the final emergence +of an intense and peculiarly aggravated form +of bourgeois nationalism. The French Revolution, +Napoleon, and the industrial revolution, as political +factors, alike conspired to intensify and make acute +this mob-drift; romanticism and realism alike, in +the field of the arts, fanned its fires. The nineteenth +century proved that Europe no longer existed as a +great political and spiritual possibility. In its +place were only a group of mutually jealous and +competitive units, whose local quarrels, to be healed +only by exhaustion, would recur again and again. +In compensation, the nineteenth century, if it could +<span class="pagenum" id="p_298">[298]</span>not produce a rebirth of Mediæval Europe, gave us +for the first time since the Middle Ages, Europeans. +Through Goethe and Heine, Stendhal and Flaubert, +Ibsen and Nietzsche, Havelock Ellis and Verhaeren, +Unamuno and Ferrero the line of the great +Europeans has gone on, embracing all the European +nations in the persons of certain representatives, +in a mingled blend of love of country combined +with love of mankind, cultivation of local +traditions fused with total abhorrence of war. Perhaps +the noblest task that America and Russia have +accomplished in the world, has been that they have +sometimes, albeit unconsciously, aided and abetted +in the production of true Europeans. For without +such, Europe at the present day would be what +she has been for a century past, a desert.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_13"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>The significance of the nineteenth century to +America is that it precipitated and made acute the +struggle between the commercial and industrial +North, the agrarian and conservative South, and +the vast mass of raw pioneers who, in the Middle +West, actually held the balance of power. The +North, in the outcome easily won, less on account of +its numbers, and certainly not because of any intellectual +brilliance, but because of the plain fact that +<span class="pagenum" id="p_299">[299]</span>the South and the Middle West could not even +agree among themselves as regards essentials. The +New England minority, men like the Transcendentalists, +Fourierites, Abolitionists, regarded the +perfect form of civilisation as a collection of industrial +bourgeois city-states, strongly practical in aim, +egalitarian in essence, dependent on absolute liberty +of the citizen. To achieve this aim it was necessary +for them to agitate for the abolition of negro +slavery, which had existed in the South since the +Colonial Period. The Southern minority, on the +other hand, envisaged the perfect state as a collection +of loosely-combined agrarian communities, +maintained precisely by the development of slavery +as an institution, and governed by an élite of aristocrats, +whose activities, released from manual toil, +could flow into intellectual channels. The balance +of power between these two tendencies, which were +incompatible from the outset, lay in the hands of the +frontier squatter class of the Middle West and Far +West. Their only concern was, which side could +provide them most quickly with manufactured articles +in return for their raw products. Garrison +meant as little, spiritually, to them as Calhoun. +America was their oyster, and all they cared for was +the eating; in other words, they measured everything +precisely by its value in dollars and cents to +themselves. Since they were mostly poor men, dependent +<span class="pagenum" id="p_300">[300]</span>on their labor, and not economically tied +to any particular section of the country (the whole +history of the American frontier is a history of +continual migration) they looked askance at slavery, +which was decidedly the sort of game only a +settled, rich man could play. Since New England +idealism meant rather devotion to culture than +to goods and chattels, they were equally indifferent +to the most radical ideas of the New England reformers. +They preferred to steer a middle course, +and neither to accept slavery nor transcendentalism, +realising that they had a continent to develop and +their fortunes to make, and that the balance of +power lay in their hands. From their emergence +on the American stage in the person of President +Andrew Jackson in 1829, we may date the typical +shibboleths of “union” being held more precious +than liberty, the constitution as impervious to logic, +cheap money and big business as more important +factors in life than either leisure or high thinking.</p> + +<p>The situation in Russia differed in form, and in +form only. In essentials it was precisely the same. +Once again we have a majority of unintelligent +peasants, a tiny minority of intelligent radicals, and +between them the theoretically unlimited power of +the Czar. The difficulty with the radicals was that +they could not even agree among themselves. Some +were absorbed by the materialistic socialism of the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_301">[301]</span>West, which was to be elevated to the rank of a +dogma by the work of Karl Marx in this very +epoch; still others were non-resistant idealists and +anarchists; still a third group were mystic reactionaries, +strongly tinged with the Oriental communism +that lies at the heart of Christianity viewed +in its most primitive aspect. The Czar was quite +frequently ready to listen to them; in fact, the sole +redeeming traits in the character of Nicholas I, +who was Alexander’s successor, were his befriending +of radical Russian authors (including Pushkin +and Griboedev), his personal courage, and his determination +to make decisions for himself. But the +balance of the Czar’s power lay with the immense +mass of uneducated, coarse and dirty peasantry; +so long as their superstitions were not meddled +with, so long as Russia could wage successful wars +abroad, thus keeping up the price of foodstuffs, so +long as the authority of the landowners and the +burden of taxes lay not too heavy on their shoulders, +all would be well. Nicholas’ system of maintaining, +as far as possible, the internal <i>status quo</i> while outwardly +posing as the champion of Christianity and +the upholder of the oppressed Slav race (which at +this time was striving to get free from the yoke of +Turkey) broke down badly in the ill-success of the +Crimean War. The system of maintaining power +by pressing upon Europe, and doing nothing +<span class="pagenum" id="p_302">[302]</span>within, could not go on. Czardom itself could not +survive, so long as serfdom persisted as an institution. +Under Nicholas’ successor, Alexander II, +serfdom was abolished by a stroke of the pen, and +thenceforward all Russians were theoretically free. +To reach the same result, at the same moment, +America had to go through the agony of four years’ +civil war.</p> + +<p>The outcome of this momentous decision was the +same in both cases. In America, the Southern +aristocracy was swept away, but with it went the +last remnant of New England idealism. The “go-getter” +type of American definitely appeared, and +has dominated the scene ever since, despite every +effort to uproot him. The seventies became for +America the dawn of the “gilded age”; an orgy of +land speculation, of feverish devil-may-care industrialism, +of stock exchange gambling and political +corruption swept the country. The South could +not protest, being enslaved by the corrupt reconstruction +government; the protest of the surviving +New England idealists went unheeded. Culture +was only important in so far as it represented an +acquisitive value and the aim of all Americans became +to acquire the essential wealth that could enable +them to purchase culture, and so show themselves +superior to their neighbours.</p> + +<p>Meantime the country was filling up with impoverished +<span class="pagenum" id="p_303">[303]</span>but ambitious European immigrants, +from Ireland, Germany, Scandinavia, Italy, the +Balkans, who were ready to barter their share in +European traditions for a hand in the melting-pot, +which was to transform them all from disillusioned +idealists into one hundred per cent wage-slaves. +The nineteenth century in America thus proved a +tragic triumph of the “divine average” which Whitman +had so mistakenly hymned. It left America +at the close of the nineties industrial in essence, +ruthlessly efficient, contemptuous of Europe, and +essentially vulgar. Out of the strivings of Virginia +aristocrats and New England radicals had +emerged a land of bumptious barbarians. The last +heirs of the old intellectual tradition, men like +Henry James, Whistler, Stephen Crane, even +Mark Twain, began coming to Europe and staying +there, in voluntary exile.</p> + +<p>The outcome in Russia was equally disastrous +to the spiritual health of the nation at large. The +result of the alliance between Czar and mujik was +but to strengthen the hostility to all ideas, especially +to European ideas, and to drive the minority +of the intelligentsia still further along the path that +led to desperate nihilism. After a brief interlude +of liberalism under Alexander II, Russia again +took the path of repression, and the reign of his +successors, Alexander III and Nicholas II, are +<span class="pagenum" id="p_304">[304]</span>noteworthy only for the complete suppression of all +thought, the relentless persecution of every form of +protest against the established trinity of orthodoxy, +autocracy and Don Cossack brutality. Even Dostoevsky, +who regarded himself as the special +prophet of the old dispensation, was obliged in his +famous Pushkin address, delivered at the close of +his life, to utter a protest against the prevailing +dirt, corruption, inefficiency and criminality, and +to uphold the work of the revolutionaries, by speaking +of Russia’s “pan-human mission,” and the ideals +of the “Russian wanderer.” For the rest, persecuted, +outlawed, butchered and oppressed, Russian +thought scarcely dared lift up its head. Nicholas +II succeeded, and nothing was changed. The end +of the century found Russia sinking into a quagmire +of corruption; and literature, which had maintained +its protest since Pushkin, began to give up +the struggle by taking on the colours of a defeated +pessimism—the sensational pessimism of Andreiev, +the neutral pessimism of Tchekhov, the immoralist +Nietzschean pessimism of Artzybashev. The one +outlet left to the Russian spirit was an illimitable +despair.</p> + +<p>The nineteenth century in America concluded +with a great economic crisis followed by a foreign +war, the first war in which America had been +engaged since the Civil War had closed thirty years +<span class="pagenum" id="p_305">[305]</span>before. The nineteenth century in Russia closed +also, a few years later, with a foreign war in the +Far East, which coincided with an economic and +political crisis at home. These two events were the +logical outcome of the previous development we +have already traced, and which had apparently +fully settled the <i>status quo</i> in both countries, without +really settling anything. In both countries the +unsolved questions of the relation between industrialism +and agrarianism, monopoly and free ownership, +foreign expansion and home reform, came +almost simultaneously to a head. In 1898, following +on the panic and great strike of 1893-4, America +went to war with Spain; in 1904 the Russian +government, which had steadily pursued, since the +Crimean War, an ambitious advance through Siberia +and Manchuria to the point where it was prepared, +through possession of the spearhead of Port +Arthur, to challenge Europe’s growing interest in +China and Korea, found itself surprisingly halted +by the outbreak of a struggle with Japan.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_12"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>It is necessary here to go back a little, and to +ask the question why these two movements which +ushered in the twentieth century, did not coincide +in date in both countries, inasmuch as they derived +<span class="pagenum" id="p_306">[306]</span>ultimately from the same tragic division of opinion +between rulers and ruled, intelligentsia and peasants, +though the intelligentsia in the one case were +a handful of thinking radicals striving to break +down the strangle-hold of the big business bosses +and protectionist monopolies, and in the other an +even more desperate handful of writers and publicists +vainly protesting against the unholy alliance +of Czardom, corrupt civil service, and secret police.</p> + +<p>The answer to this question is to be found in the +unequal incidence of the industrial era in point of +time upon both countries. America had become industrial, +except for the South, as early as 1840. +After 1865 industrialism was everywhere paramount, +and its sway was undisputed. But in Russia +industrialism did not really begin until after +1892, when Sergius Witte became Minister of +Finance and of Communications. As a direct result, +the Transsiberian railway was built, thus giving +Russia at last full opportunity for expansion in +the only direction in which expansion was left open +to her, namely, the Far East. Russia thereby followed +the path of full industrialism, a path which +had been open to the United States ever since the +first transcontinental railway, the Union Pacific, +had been opened in 1877. It is interesting to note +that, once again, what was in the latter case the +result of the steady influence of millions of new +<span class="pagenum" id="p_307">[307]</span>settlers upon a Federal government impotent to +direct or interfere (for the Union Pacific was begun +during the upheaval of the Civil War) became +in the latter, the action of only one man, backed by +the authority of the Czar.</p> + +<p>In this delay of about a generation may be found +the reason why Russia postponed the internal crisis +that in her case, as in America’s, was to mark the +slow transition from spiritual adolescence to dangerous +maturity. Industrialism, in both cases, provided +the lever that set in motion, once for all, the +vast and ponderous machine that had been created. +In the one case, it solidified, in the other it disrupted; +and we need not invoke either Slav stupidity +or Yankee smartness to explain the psychological +causes of the crisis of 1904-5 or that of 1893-1898. +In essence the two movements were similar, +it was only in their results—as is practically always +the case in American and Russian social life—that +they could be thought of apart. In America the +régime of free competition in industry supported +by protective tariffs, and outward lip service to the +Federal constitution as the sole God-given means +of developing and fulfilling the destinies of the +United States, had steadily built up the cities at +the expense of the agrarian interest, until a succession +of bad crops unconsciously restored the balance. +The result was, first, trade depression; then +<span class="pagenum" id="p_308">[308]</span>reduction of wages; then a great strike at Chicago, +which had, as the second American city, only just +finished flamboyantly hailing the fourth centenary +of Columbus’ discovery by means of a World’s +Fair; lastly, blundering interference by the Federal +Government which helped nobody and a smouldering +agitation, freshly dividing the country into sections, +arousing the discontented farmers for cheap +money, and the discontented industrialists for an +overseas empire, to absorb their surplus products. +The result was that the inevitable demand for expansion +of America beyond the ocean borders +found its first moral pretext in the insurrection of +1895 in Cuba.</p> + +<p>Turn from this to the situation in Russia, where +to balance the American trinity of industrialist, +agrarian and sentimental radical, we have the three +already familiar elements of Czar, mujik, and intelligentsia +nobility. Since 1861 the mujik had been +nominally free, and their village zemstvos, or local +assemblies, were growing inevitably in power and +influence. The Czar owed the continuance of his +power entirely to the support of this peasant class. +But because of their continued increase in numbers, +it was impossible to keep them contented without +finding for them continually new lands whereon +to settle; and such lands could only be opened in +Siberia, Manchuria, Turkestan, the Far East. By +<span class="pagenum" id="p_309">[309]</span>building the Siberian railway and by concentrating +on industrial development, Witte simply speeded +up the outcome of this logical process. Thereby he +split up the radical intelligentsia into three groups; +those who, working through the zemstvos and the +landed classes, were demanding free speech and a +parliament; those who, working through the industrialists, +were all for a physical force revolution and +Marxian socialism to follow; and those who, working +through the newly created and prospering middle +classes, were all for protecting their rights by a +conservative parliament on the English model. By +deliberately driving Russia to take the path of industrialism +and eastward expansion, in order to +maintain the alliance between Czar and peasant, +Witte proved himself not the least important +servant of the Crown; but his service led directly to +two results. It created an urban proletariat, of the +utmost future danger as a hotbed of political radicalism, +and inevitably forced on the Japanese-Russian +War.</p> + +<p>In either case, the policy followed was an attempt +to resolve by an arbitrary act certain difficulties +that could only be attacked from within. The average +Middle-Western farmer took no interest in an +economic protectorate over the Caribbean; the +average Russian provincial noble had no quarrel +with Japan. In the one case, it was only through +<span class="pagenum" id="p_310">[310]</span>the support of the great Eastern industrialists that +the Union could be preserved in permanent form; +in the other the central government was obliged to +absorb a certain proportion of surplus peasant +population, every year, either by creating an industrial +class, or by promoting emigration to Siberia, +in order to avoid civil war. The result of the movement +of 1893-1898 was to make the industrial capitalist +class the dictators of American policy, domestic +and foreign; that of the parallel movement +of 1893-1904 was to create a new industrial class, +only awaiting a leader and an opportunity to take +over the reins of government from the weak-kneed +Czar and his advisers. That the one movement accomplished +its ends largely by peaceable economic +penetration, and that the other movement grew on +account of its arbitrary and violent character matters +little. Each violently wrenched a whole country +out of its national orbit of development, and set +it upon a path that inevitably brought it into conflict +with other countries. In America’s case the +conflict was to be with Europe, in Russia’s with +Japan.</p> + +<p>Thus both countries, for the space of about thirty +years, had simultaneously explored the path of pacific +expansion, and in both cases that means failed. +That is the lesson we must keep in mind as once +more we find America and Russia confronting each +<span class="pagenum" id="p_311">[311]</span>other across the space of Europe at the close of the +nineteenth century. Since 1865 America’s entire +policy had been maintenance of freedom of contract, +protection of home markets, industrial expansion. +The policy fell of its own weight because +a glut of manufactured articles and the growing +inability of the farmers to wring heavier crops from +the soil, created a financial crisis of the type that +recurs throughout American history. Since the +disastrous Crimean War, and still more since the +Treaty of Berlin in 1878 had robbed Russia of the +fruits of her last victory over the Turks, the policy +of the Czar and his advisers had been avoidance of +all foreign ideas and radical notions combined with +expansion of foreign markets and improvement of +domestic communications in order to link up the +most outlying parts of the Empire. This policy, +too, fell of its own weight and came to nothing because +in its zeal to foster commerce and industry +it created an industrial urban class determined to +take no orders even from the Czar, and because in +its hurried race eastward, it finally dashed the trace-pole +of the Russian troika against the immovable +foundation stones of the Great Wall of China.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_312">[312]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_XV"> + Chapter XV + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>At the close of the nineteenth century, the +American people were opportunistic, optimistic, +and prosperous; the Russian people were gradually +sinking back from the status of a warlike, +daring and adventurous nation into a state of sluggishly +Oriental passivity and fatalism. In the one +case, the power and resources of the West, exploited +by the great Eastern financiers, had overwhelmed +the last remnants of dying New England +idealism, and had dragged the South, incapable of +resistance, after it. In the other, the arbitrary will +of the central government, backed by an army of +corrupt bureaucrats, and by another army of illiterate +peasants wearing the Czar’s uniform, had +slowly radiated from Moscow through the veins of +an immense country until it reached the far distant +Pacific at Vladivostok and Port Arthur. Had +Washington or Catherine the Great been permitted +to revisit the scene of their labours again at the +close of the century, they might well have been +amazed at the work of their descendants. Both +would have been astounded at the immense expansion +<span class="pagenum" id="p_313">[313]</span>of what had been originally a very simple +idea. Washington in particular would have been +hard put to discover his small, and almost poverty-stricken +country, almost all English-speaking, with +its scant three millions of inhabitants, and frontiers +scarcely one hundred miles removed from the seaboard, +in the vast congeries of races, ninety millions +strong, industrialised up to the hilt and flaunting +their wealth, that swarmed over America. But +Catherine, too, though she would still have found +herself at home among the superstitious mujiks, +would have missed the intellectual brilliance of her +court and have thought the state bureaucracy overcrowded. +Though she might have admired Witte +and his special creation of the Transsiberian railway, +she would have shrunk back in horror from +Tolstoy as from a monstrosity. And what Catherine +would have thought of the special qualities +of will and character manifested by her descendant, +Nicholas II, had best perhaps be left to the imagination. +In short, though nothing apparently had +been changed, everything in reality was different. +America was waxing, and Russia was waning +rapidly, like two moons revolving in opposite directions.</p> + +<p>The same phenomenon, with the same result, had +happened long ago in the ancient world. We have +referred before to Egypt and Babylonia as providing +<span class="pagenum" id="p_314">[314]</span>an instructive parallel to the two cases of America +and Russia. It is necessary now again to recall +them to memory, and to note that the period of +Egypt’s greatest economic supremacy coincided +precisely with the period of the supine Kassite +rulers of Babylonia. That the Kassites were foreigners, +is a fact perfectly well known, but it is +also fair to point out that the Czar was in a very special +sense a foreigner in his own realm. Catherine +herself was purely East German; and the habit of +marrying petty German princesses had persisted so +long in the Romanov house that Nicholas II was +himself the grandson of a princess of Hesse-Darmstadt +and the husband of another. As in Babylonia, +Russia was being bled white to support the supremacy +of a foreign class. Meantime, America, +holding for the most part to the dominant Republican +party dynasty which had settled itself into +power on the heels of the Civil War, had swept into +its system of standardised ethics, mass-patriotism +and business psychology, race after race from the +old world. The situation was becoming not very +different, after all, from that which confronted the +Ancient World when Amenophis IV, later known +as Akhnaton, mounted the throne of the Pharaohs. +And the part that the Hittites had played in the +drama of 1500 <span class="allsmcap">B.C.</span> was to be played by Prussia; +<span class="pagenum" id="p_315">[315]</span>for this is the period of Prussia’s ultimate greatness +on the world’s stage.</p> + +<p>The drama began in America with the outbreak +of the Spanish-American War. The farmers of the +South and West were already in revolt against the +increasing cost of living which high protective +tariffs had brought in their train. They were preparing +to sweep the entire country under the leadership +of Bryan. The industrial workers of the East +had already threatened to follow them, in the great +strike of 1893. If they had done so, the country +would have split up in three sections, even less geographically +definable than the boundaries of the +North and South had proven at the time of the Civil +War. The great industrialists of the East, and the +millionaires of Wall Street with their hands on the +pulse of the country, took fright. The election of +1896 proved the turning point. The nominee of the +industrialist republicans was William McKinley, +an affable, ingratiating, hard-working, but essentially +spineless Ohioan; but the real power, the +power of the campaign funds, lay in Wall Street, +which lavishly poured out its treasure to aid the +Republican Party to victory. The result was that +the less-organised forces of Bryan failed; and McKinley +became President. But the industrial outlook +was none too rosy. In order to prevent a glut +<span class="pagenum" id="p_316">[316]</span>of manufactured products, and the repetition of +such a crisis of unemployment as had already taken +place in 1893-6, it was necessary not only to maintain +domestic protection, but to find foreign markets. +And foreign markets in America’s case +meant inevitably foreign war. The pretext came +when the battleship <i>Maine</i> blew up in Havana harbour. +At the price of a war with Spain, a war +almost lost through America’s incapacity for military +leadership, yet bound to be a victory in the end +because of her opponent’s even greater helplessness, +America acquired an overseas dominion in the +Philippines, and practical certainty of headship in +the Caribbean in the not remote future.</p> + +<p>The results were momentous, socially and psychologically. +America had proven once and for all +that she could defeat a European power in the field. +That the power chosen for this experiment was +Spain, which was antiquated in equipment, weak in +leadership, and inefficient in diplomacy, mattered +not a jot. The fact that various European countries +had half-heartedly shown the Spanish some +sympathy was enough to set fire to the powder-magazine +of American jingoism. A vast subterranean +echo of England’s old Armada victory shook +the Anglo-Saxon foundations of the country, +trailed through the yellow press, and infected every +woman and every schoolboy. This was truly the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_317">[317]</span>legendary age of American history, and its chosen +hero became Theodore Roosevelt, the millionaire +turned cowboy, the “trust-buster” with the big stick +who defied equally Wall Street and the trade unions, +who was ready apparently to ride and tame +together the two wild horses of industry and agriculture, +and to implant in every American breast +the triumph of the average man. Under his leadership +America jumped overnight in the eyes of the +world from the status of a gawky, awkward, shambling +frontiersman of the Lincoln type, to that of a +big overgrown schoolboy with a book in one hand +and a baseball bat in the other, equally ready to +lecture and to bully the world. One need only be +respectful to the “basis of prosperity” on which all +American institutions rested at home, and ready to +pounce upon any European nation that dared to +interfere abroad, in order to be great.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_14"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>Turn now from this picture to that of Russia +during the close of the twentieth century. The construction +of the Transsiberian railway, and the consequent +industrial régime that Witte had fostered, +led to a momentary return of prosperity. His +creation of a gold standard backed by a gold reserve, +together with the state monopoly that at this +<span class="pagenum" id="p_318">[318]</span>time was imposed on the manufacture and sale of +vodka, happily combined with Alexander Third’s +open policy of neutrality in Europe and of rapid +penetration to the Far East. The outcome was a +hectic period of urban development and factory +construction. Meanwhile, the peasantry, especially +in the overcrowded region of the Lower Volga, had +to continue to suffer, despite their emancipation. +Their zemstvos, or local councils, were given no +power of legislation; and they were still paying in +taxes for the costs of their own liberation back in +1861, and were to continue to pay up to 1910. A +succession of bad crops on the Lower Volga in +1891 and 1893 did the rest, and famine drove them +into the factories of the large towns, where they +rapidly became transformed from illiterate and untrained +agriculturalists, with all the earth-born +superstitions of their class, to active revolters and +plotters against Church and State, greedily swallowing +Marx as their new gospel.</p> + +<p>In the midst of this situation Alexander III died, +to be succeeded by the helplessly fatalistic and +spineless Nicholas II. He soon fell under the spell +of the young wife who had been brought from Germany +for him by his father, and who had first appeared +before the Russian people in Alexander’s +own funeral procession. This new accession, in +1894, simply meant that Alexander’s policy would +<span class="pagenum" id="p_319">[319]</span>continue to be followed blindly, but without the +determination and efficiency that the Czar had +shown in pursuing it. More and more the peasants +were to be encouraged to emigrate; Siberia soon +filled up with a new class of desperate adventurers, +and those who did not take this path crowded into +the factories of Moscow and St. Petersburg, where +they were rapidly converted by the steady preaching +of the fanatics of Marxism. Their motto was +“Wait until the hour is ready when we may strike, +and then throw down your tools.” Meanwhile the +government proved blind to this new development, +and contented itself with further driving the intelligentsia +underground or into exile, and making +half-hearted attempts to limit the hours of work, +and the age at which the people were to be employed +in the new factories.</p> + +<p>The clash came finally in 1904. In that year, +Japan, taking fright at the steady penetration of +Russian influence and trade through Manchuria to +Korea, China, and the Pacific, suddenly moved her +armies, without the formality of a declaration of +war, against Port Arthur. The result was to find +Russia utterly unprepared. East of Lake Baikal, +where the Transsiberian railway had a gap of one +hundred miles which could be traversed in summer +by steamers, but in winter had to be crossed on +sledges, Russia had only eighty thousand field +<span class="pagenum" id="p_320">[320]</span>troops, with twenty-three thousand garrison, and +thirty thousand railway frontier guards. Japan, +on the other hand, could throw in one hundred and +fifty thousand line troops at once, and held all the +advantages of lines of communication. Russia was +doomed to defeat from the outset; and this defeat, +for the first time in her history, came not from the +invading forces of Europe, but from her own invasion +of Asia, which had been followed up to the +point where she came into conflict with the one +Asiatic nation which had westernised itself, and +which was determined, thanks to its own population +and trade problem, to keep a firm hold on the Pacific +coast lands. But what made this defeat inevitable +was the lack of enthusiasm that the Russian +people themselves displayed towards the war. +Since Nicholas, on his accession, had dismissed the +appeal of the zemstvos for a parliamentary constitution +as “senseless dreams,” the landowners themselves +had become hostile; and the new urban +proletariat was indifferent to the demands of any +class but its own, and waiting for its opportunity.</p> + +<p>The outcome was to prove to anyone but the +vacillating and incapable Czar, whose head had +been completely turned by the large doses of flattery +administered to him by Emperor Wilhelm II +(who for his part secretly cherished ambitions towards +Europe similar to Russia’s Asiatic dreams) +<span class="pagenum" id="p_321">[321]</span>that the continuance of power in the hands of the +Romanovs, which had been the sole means of holding +the Russian Empire together since the days of +Peter the Great, would cease, if once deprived of +the support of the united Russian people. Despite +the blessings of the Orthodox Church on the new +crusade against the Japanese, despite desperate attempts +to whip up patriotic sentiment, Russia was +defeated not only in Manchuria, but on the home +front. The Japanese War concluded not only with +military defeat, but with a firm promise on the part +of the Czar to open a Duma. This was wrung from +him by the great strike of 1905, which paralysed +the entire country, and by the passive but effectual +resistance of the agrarian class themselves. The +war with Japan was rapidly wound up by the +intervention of Witte, who made the best bargain +he could under the circumstances, in August, 1905; +and the attention of the Russian government henceforward +was directed towards dealing with the desperate +situation at home.</p> + +<p>Nicholas might in this crisis have abdicated and +passed on the succession of the throne to someone +equipped with more will-power and sense of the +situation than himself, but for the fact that the +Czarina had at last, on the outbreak of the war, +presented him with a son. His one object henceforward +was to transmit the patrimony of the Russian +<span class="pagenum" id="p_322">[322]</span>Empire as intact as possible to his heir; and in +this aim his wife completely seconded him. The +drift of his policy was to summon the Duma, make +only such concessions as could be wrung from him, +and if the situation proved too dangerous, to reassert +his autocracy. It was a policy of desperation, +which needed such a supreme Machiavellian as +Catherine the Great to carry out successfully; and +the conditions—not to speak of the ability involved—under +which it was now undertaken were entirely +different. In order to keep an eye on the insistent +smouldering rebellion of the new factory class, +Nicholas’ Government had adopted the policy of +setting secret revolutionary agitators to work in +industrial districts, in order that the expected uprising +when it came might be known beforehand. +The result had only been to completely paralyse +the country in the strikes of 1905; and once the +safety-valve of the Duma was constructed, it was +not likely, despite the Czar’s secret hopes, to merely +blow off in talk.</p> + +<p>There followed ten years of fantastic nightmare +for Russia. While in America, the country grew +more and more consolidated in its power and prosperity, +more and more ready for the date when it +might emerge into the leadership of the world, under +the successful compromise between “big business” +and free competition discovered by Roosevelt; +<span class="pagenum" id="p_323">[323]</span>in Russia an outworn and scandalously +patched together system tended more and more to +break down under its own weight, as Napoleon long +ago had accurately foreseen and predicted. The +first Duma was suppressed, only to give way to one +more radical. The elections were then purged so +as to insure a conservative majority, but still the +drift to revolution could only be temporarily stayed. +What made matters still worse and finally transformed +the most conservative landowning class into +open opponents of the autocracy, were the scandals +concerning the Czar’s own court and heir. The +wretched child for whom Nicholas had staked everything, +proved a congenital invalid, with no hope for +cure from legitimate doctoring. In this resort, the +thoughts of the monarch and of his consort turned +to the apparatus of miracle which, they fondly believed, +lay somewhere in the country itself. The +result is well known to the world at large. From +the day when the animally cunning and unholy +Rasputin first left the trail of his dirty boots across +the Czar’s carpet, Nicholas himself was doomed.</p> + +<p>The watchword of the twentieth century for +America was “uplift”; a determination to exploit +the resources of the country up to the limit, and to +preserve the Puritan outlook on life that had led +to such important results, although the Puritan +strain itself was steadily declining in numbers and +<span class="pagenum" id="p_324">[324]</span>ability. Abroad, America was determined to make +her influence felt as at home; and the shadow +of the dollar began to extend itself not only over +the American continent, but in the remote regions +of Europe and the Far East. The watchword for +Russia during the same period was suppression of +everything that stood in the way of the continuance +of the Romanov dynasty, and suppression of the +underground struggle for power by all other sections. +The combined forces of Church and State +would struggle on for a time longer, though deprived +of every vestige of intelligent support. +There was nothing to do but to wait on fate. When +Crown and Church fell, they would fall together. +Abroad, Russia had little influence; all she asked for +from her new ally France was not a hand in policy, +but capital to enable her to meet the expenses of the +immense military establishment she was compelled +to keep up in order to avert an explosion at home. +Though facing the East, she was drawn into the +orbit of European nationalist diplomacy by her +economic needs. In America, on the other hand, +no one need ask Europe for financial aid. But there +had to be an increasing economic penetration of +Europe to counterbalance industrial tension at +home.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_325">[325]</span></p> + + +<h4 id="3_13"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>Meantime, while these tremendous events were +preparing, the nations of the European continent +pursued the path that had been left open to them by +Napoleon’s collapse, the path of a final intensification +of separate effort, backed by the combined +forces of industrialism and parliamentarism. It is +possible that never to the average individual had +European life appeared on the surface so promising, +so rich in its complexity, as during the first +decade of the twentieth century. Despite the upheavals +of 1848, despite the recrudescence of war +that had broken out in the years 1866-1870, the +continent that was the home of man’s ripest and +maturest forms of civilisation had made an astonishing +recovery. The old and the new had been +skilfully combined. Except in France, the trappings +of royalty persisted side by side with keen-witted +Parliaments, whose members, inflamed by +fiery patriotism and the carefully fostered sense of +nationality, vied with each other in demanding more +and more factories and better armaments. Thanks +to the triumphs of science, the ever new discoveries +that had been made in the realm of invention, the +spread of electric light, telephones, railways, sanitation, +medical skill, literacy, with the rapidly approaching +advent of the motor car and the aeroplane +<span class="pagenum" id="p_326">[326]</span>in the offing—thanks to all these things, and +the possession of the franchise, the future was held +to be a rosy one. England in particular fêted the +culmination of the Victorian age, and her last triumph +over the Boers. France threw wide the doors +of a great exhibition in Paris to celebrate a century +of progress. Italy had reawakened as by magic +from her decay, and was becoming a modern nation, +without losing her ancient picturesqueness. In +Austria, despite internal difficulties, the veteran +Franz Joseph still firmly held together the various +parts of his ramshackle Empire. Even backward +Spain, newly defeated by America, might aspire to +a new Empire in Morocco. As for the Far East, +that too was giving way before the dominating +force of the white man; in the Philippines, where +America was proving herself the heir to England’s +colonial ability; in China, where the Boxer rising +had been quelled; in India, which England held +firmly; and on the continent of Africa, parcelled +out into colonies, and ruled by a dozen different +nations. Yes, the future was full of hope, a great +hope for the white man.</p> + +<p>Such was the picture that Europe presented to +the superficial observer at the close of the century. +But underneath, things were very, very different, +as a few lonely Europeans—men like Ibsen and +Nietzsche—had learned to their cost. The aggressive +<span class="pagenum" id="p_327">[327]</span>nationalism that had gone on unchecked +throughout the nineteenth century had proven the +real enemy of progress. Every European nation +had its own army, its own fleet; and these immense +military establishments were not only expensive, +but dangerous. Peace was outwardly maintained +by means of a complex web of diplomacy and +treaties. The Triple Alliance balanced the Triple +Entente; but day by day this web became stretched +to finer tension, nearer to the breaking point. What +was still worse was that a generation of unchecked +industrial competition, taking as its tacit watchword +its own interpretation of Darwin’s law of “the +struggle for life and the survival of the fittest,” +had created immense city slums, huge industrial +areas of unrelieved hideousness, festering plague-spots +where drink, crime, misery, disease—varied +only by strikes and discontent—stalked open and +unabashed. The protests of a few idealists, a few +æstheticians, such as Ruskin and William Morris, +had passed unheeded. Religion itself could do +nothing to mend matters, inasmuch as it was mostly +State-religion, paying lip-service to the established +powers. When it condemned, it did so mostly for +wrong reasons, as in the case of Zola, whose only +too honest and accurate social novels proved meat +far too strong for ecclesiastical stomachs.</p> + +<p>To the radical minority of impartial and intelligent +<span class="pagenum" id="p_328">[328]</span>observers, whether these called themselves +socialists, anarchists, communists, or simply honest +men, something in the cardboard edifice of European +nationalistic prosperity was certain to give +way; whether it was the perpetual military establishments, +or the intensive industrial competition, +or the futile and stupid madness of “patriotic” +Parliaments, or the mob-spirit already manifesting +itself as latent in democracy. But though the radicals +saw the abyss yawning beneath their feet, they +could not arrest the earth-tremor that was shortly +to precipitate them and their respective nations into +it. The régime of mechanical competition and of +intensified nationalist effort had taken too firm a +hold ever to be checked by words, however eloquent +and far-seeing. As many intelligent men realised +this fact, a sort of <i>fin de siècle</i> weariness sprang up +through the nineties, spread itself throughout Europe, +and after taking the various forms of decadentism, +symbolism, exoticism, finally immobilised +itself in the cynical lightness of an Anatole France. +Meanwhile, the web of diplomacy was re-spun, re-stretched, +half ruptured at a touch and again tied +together. Every year brought new threats of war, +balanced by new projects of peace, until most +people dreamed that war might never come. The +sound of a revolver-shot in the sleepy town of +Serajevo at last proved sufficient to shatter the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_329">[329]</span>fabric of a century of European diplomacy. A +sort of convulsion passed over the face of the world, +and the next moment, the nations that had maintained +the fiction of armed peace ever since 1870 +suddenly found themselves involved in the vast +cataclysm of another European war.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_330">[330]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_XVI"> + Chapter XVI + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>Fifteen years since the outbreak, and eleven +years since the cessation of European hostilities +have passed away; but the question is not +yet fully settled of responsibility for the war. +Fortunately the question need not here be asked; +for it would lead us too far into the maze of treaties +and of safeguarding diplomacy by which the European +nations strove to make innocuous that national +sentiment they themselves had so outwardly fostered. +Our concern here is not with moral responsibility, +but with tendency and result. The tendency +in Europe, for a century of European history, +had been to prepare for war and to strive to +maintain outwardly the peace by diplomacy. There +came a time when the machine of war, carefully prepared +and oiled, went forward simply of itself. +The brakes of diplomacy refused to work any +longer. That moment came in August, 1914.</p> + +<p>The ultimate decision for war no doubt came +from the fact that Russia, having mobilised her +armies, in response to Austria’s insulting ultimatum +to Serbia, refused to withdraw the mobilisation order +<span class="pagenum" id="p_331">[331]</span>and to allow Kaiser Wilhelm to make his +eleventh-hour appearance in the rôle of peacemaker. +But to say that thereby Russia was solely responsible +for the war, is to utter the most pernicious +nonsense. One might as well say that America—who +began and furthered the negotiations in the +person of President Wilson—was solely responsible +for the peace, as embodied in the Treaty of Versailles. +From the moment when the Czar and his +advisers decided not to tolerate any further Austro-German +interference with the Slav nationalities of +the Balkans—interference which had already completely +alienated Bulgaria and had transformed +Rumania from a friendly people to a sullenly hostile +one—from that moment the issue was already +as good as settled. The Russian people awoke as +by magic from the stupor of their long nightmare, +and walked forth in the sunlight of a clear racial +policy. Henceforward there were to be no more +mad attempts to penetrate into distant Asia, while +ignoring the plaint of the neighbour lying wounded +at their own doors. The dream of uniting the oppressed +western Slavs of Europe into one great free +confederation under the headship of orthodox Moscow—a +dream which had been Russia’s up to Peter +the Great’s day, and which had revived under +Nicholas I and Alexander II—needed but the +touch of the Russian ultimatum to Austria to start +<span class="pagenum" id="p_332">[332]</span>afresh from the soil. The “third Rome” was to be +no more a lost ideal but an accomplished fact. In +the fervour of a mystical re-conversion to an ideal +which had somehow been lost sight of, all party +differences, all scars and injuries were forgotten, +and immense throngs again kneeled before the +Czar. Only the tram operatives of St. Petersburg +and Moscow, indifferent to any feeling but that of +class, persisted for a time in a crippling strike, at +the same time the ultimatum went forward to Austria +and her ally, Germany. A small defection, but +one pregnant with ominous possibilities for the +future.</p> + +<p>Having mobilised his forces on the frontier, +ready to move forward in case Austria persisted in +enforcing the terms of her outrageous military and +political demands upon helpless Serbia, the Czar +refused to countermand the order, despite Kaiser +Wilhelm’s belated and hysteric attempts to extricate +himself from a position in which he had already +placed himself. Had Russia done so, what would +have been the result? The infuriated armies of +Russia, withdrawn from the frontier, and doubly +tricked by their rulers, from accomplishment of an +aim that seemed to them perfectly just, might have +perhaps marched upon Moscow and deposed the +Romanovs. No doubt this consideration was also +present in the minds of the Czar and of his chief +<span class="pagenum" id="p_333">[333]</span>advisers. It was necessary at least to make an +armed demonstration of goodwill to the Slav peoples +in general, in order to save their faces. Moreover, +there was France to be considered; France, +which had solely stood by Russia during the dark +years since 1905, and which was burning with the +hope of revenge on Germany. So the time-limit of +midnight August 1st expired, and the world blundered +into war.</p> + +<p>The fact that Russia, despite her immense awakening +of enthusiasm for the cause of her fellow-Slavs, +and despite her determination to fight on to +the bitter end—a determination which she proved +over and over again—was, after all, badly led and +shamefully equipped, was no handicap at the outset. +Had the East Prussian campaign which was +halted at Tannenberg, not been fought, the allies +could not have stood firm, and stemmed the German +onset at the Marne. This campaign, in the end +disastrous to the Russians, was nevertheless of +equal moral effect on the ultimate result as was +America’s intervention three years later. In the +one case as in the other, it was not skill, but the +mere weight of numbers that finally decided the +issue. The French troops, badly beaten in their +first attempt to seize upon Alsace-Lorraine, and +supported only by a meagre skeleton force of +British, fell back steadily upon Paris, until suddenly +<span class="pagenum" id="p_334">[334]</span>the pressure upon their crumbling front relaxed +and the desperate stand upon the Marne +was transformed into an advance to the Aisne. +And this policy had been dictated to the German +general staff by the trail of smoking farmsteads and +ravaged towns that the Russians were making in +the Hohenzollern province of East Prussia. The +well-directed thrust of the German armies to get +between the desperate French troops and Paris +itself, and to cut off one from the other, failed because +two army corps had to be detached to aid +Hindenburg to trap the advancing Russians at +Tannenberg. Thus the true agent of the so-called +“miracle of the Marne” was neither France nor +England, but Russia—that Russia whom her allies +abandoned and repudiated three years later in the +time of her bitterest humiliation.</p> + +<p>Despite the appalling loss of eighty thousand +effectives at Tannenberg, the great masses of the +Russian people undoubtedly felt that they could go +on waging war indefinitely. Austria on the Carpathian-Polish +frontier proved as easy for them to +invade as East Prussia was impossible. All that +they needed to accomplish the ultimate result was a +steady supply of munitions and supplies from the +better-equipped allies. But this feeling was not +shared by the more intelligent heads of affairs in +the allied countries. One of the most far-seeing, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_335">[335]</span>the English war secretary, Kitchener, had spoken +of three years as being the probable duration of the +contest. It would take that time, he thought, to +stem the German advance through Belgium into +France and to train and equip armies sufficiently +strong to coöperate with the Russians elsewhere, +and thus to force Germany to abandon the struggle. +By a miracle which was even greater in its total +effect, though less popularly acclaimed, than the +“miracle of the Marne,” England barely managed +to save the Channel Ports through her stand at +Ypres, and thus effectively blockaded Germany—though +this miracle was accomplished at the price +of all her fighting effectives. The war became, +after the first winter, a war of attrition with only +one outstanding question: how long would it take +the Allies, backed as they were by the immense +wave of enthusiasm that was sweeping England +and her colonies, to raise the enormous forces required +to throw back Germany in the West, and to +bring relief in the East to Russia, who was now +equally blockaded—her only effective port being +Archangel. For by this time Germany had persuaded +Turkey to enter the war on her side.</p> + +<p>The question was not long in being answered. +In the spring of 1915 England committed herself +to an attack upon the Gallipoli peninsula. Had +that attack been pressed home, and Constantinople +<span class="pagenum" id="p_336">[336]</span>fallen, the war would certainly have ended then +and there. For Germany could not then have +halted the immense supply of munitions and equipment +that England, confident of her financial resources +and Still mistress of the seas, was now +cleverly procuring for herself and her allies through +the factories of outwardly neutral America. But +as regards Russia, Germany was already doing her +work pretty thoroughly. Though the supplies +were pouring into Archangel, they were for the +most part never allowed to leave the wharves, or +mysteriously disappeared <i>en route</i> to the Russian +armies. For by now a small group of sycophantic +courtiers and corrupt administrators of the Czar’s +own inner circle, taking their tone from Berlin, and +possibly also from the imperious and self-willed +Czarina, were asking themselves the question, +“What should happen, if, after all, we won? +Would we not have put into the hands of the people +the very weapon whereby to destroy our power?”</p> + +<p>Thus through outward delay and inner treachery, +the Allies themselves threw away their chief opportunity +of forcing a decision upon Germany. +The Gallipoli advance, thanks to divided counsels +in England and in France, was never pressed home +in time. The Russian armies, which despite their +terrible shortage in munitions, had fought their +way into Galicia in the spring of 1915 and delivered +<span class="pagenum" id="p_337">[337]</span>their last effective threat to Vienna, crumbled away +helplessly before the new policy Germany had conceived +of standing like a wall in the West, and +sweeping down all opposition in the East. From +the foothills of the Carpathians and the Hungarian +plains to the Pripet marshes that lay two hundred +miles behind Warsaw, the Russian armies retreated, +fighting with sticks instead of rifles, and having +back of them not sufficient reserves of ammunition +even to feed their batteries for a day. The outcome +was that the Grand Duke Nicholas, an able hard-bitten +soldier, was deposed from command of the +Russian armies, and the Czar, now more than ever +swayed by the evil influences of his consort and +Rasputin, took command. Russia’s doom was +sealed.</p> + +<p>At the same time, England, misled by the French +into thinking that the German effectives were wasting +away more rapidly than those of the Allies in +the West, withdrew from Gallipoli and launched a +disastrous attack at Loos, which was completely +abortive, and served only to sweep away a great +portion of the new armies which Kitchener had +summoned into being. Henceforward, stalemate +was practically certain, and by this stalemate Germany +in the end stood ready to profit. For she +could now move towards the East whenever and +wherever she pleased. Bulgaria was brought into +<span class="pagenum" id="p_338">[338]</span>the war on Germany’s side to counterbalance +Italy’s defection to the cause of the Allies, in 1915; +and from Antwerp to the Persian Gulf, Kaiser +Wilhelm now ruled supreme. Russia had utterly +collapsed in the East, and the iron wall of troops +still stood firmly planted on French soil. That was +the prospect that uplifted all German hearts to +face, in 1916, another year of war.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_15"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>So the first act of the great drama ended with +Germany everywhere triumphant in the East and +the Allies unable to force a decision anywhere on +their own chosen ground of the West. But this +result had only hardened the Western allies to +persist. Their very lives were now at stake, and +they still held the German lines immobilised, and +the German coasts in the grip of the blockade. +Economically, Germany could persist no more than +Napoleon had persisted, in bearing the strain. She +still had two military weapons whereby she might +be able to bring her last two opponents, France and +England, to the ground. These were her own +power of making munitions, a power which had +been tested and proven successful in pulverising the +Russians in the spring of 1915; and in addition, the +submarine which might eventually starve out England. +<span class="pagenum" id="p_339">[339]</span>Both weapons were launched on the world +in full strength in 1916.</p> + +<p>The million of shells which the German armies +showered on Verdun in the first twelve hours’ bombardment +of that fortress, and the million tons of +shipping which England began losing every month, +proved, however, equally ineffective to bring the +war to its close. The first led directly to open discontent +behind the lines in Germany itself; the latter +led indirectly to America’s entry into the war. +For despite the wave of horror that had swept over +her at the loss of the <i>Lusitania</i>, America now +learned with amazement that the Germans had no +intention whatever of abandoning the submarine, +with its constant threat to neutral traffic. The outcome +was to bring America into the struggle as a +fresh factor of incalculable strength against an +already disillusioned Germany.</p> + +<p>Yet this decision was not taken immediately. +Apart from two strongly vocal minorities, one of +which insistently upheld the cause of the Allies, +while the other just as clearly pointed out the tremendous +triumphs of the German military machine, +the great bulk of the American people were still +indifferent. They had, and they desired, no quarrel +with the people of Germany. On this basis, the +sentimental basis of “having kept America out of +the war,” President Wilson was re-elected in November +<span class="pagenum" id="p_340">[340]</span>1916. He knew, and had given indications +that he knew, that the business of American neutrality +was played out. But this knowledge was +not shared by the great majority of his people, who +fondly hoped to continue to profit at the expense of +both sides in the struggle, by maintaining a prosperous +neutrality.</p> + +<p>With incredible folly, the military leaders of +Germany, blind to the harvest of suffering they +were creating in the homes and hearts of their own +people, played completely into the American President’s +hands. They issued a proclamation pointing +out the devastation that the German arms had already +caused (a devastation real enough when we +consider that a million Russians had been slaughtered, +another million were prisoners in German +hands, and that great tracts of land had been left +desert in Northern France, Poland, and the Balkans) +and demanding that this destruction should +now cease. Let the Allies come to the council table, +and they would learn Germany’s demands. In the +swollen phrases of this threatening note, the American +President found his opportunity. He issued +an appeal to the Allies to state their war aims. The +reply was unexpectedly moderate, but official Germany +gave no indication that she would accept it. +Instead, while Wilson spoke openly of a peace without +victory, based on the cessation of interference +<span class="pagenum" id="p_341">[341]</span>by one nation in another’s affairs, government by +the consent of the governed, freedom of the seas, +and limitation of armaments, Germany unsheathed +her last weapon. On January 31st, 1917, she proclaimed +a blockade of England, France, and Italy, +closed the ports of Europe to neutral shipping, and +declared that her submarines would sink henceforward +all ships that endeavoured to trade with the +belligerents at war with Germany. The answer +was prompt and immediate. The American government +severed diplomatic relations with Germany.</p> + +<p>Thus America came into the war in defence of +the same principle of freedom of the seas about +which she had once before fought England in 1812. +The leaders of Germany, had they possessed any +intimate knowledge of American history, or the +American character, might have foreseen this result. +For the American nation as a whole lives and flourishes +by, and wages its greatest struggles over, the +application of certain very simple shibboleths and +slogans. It was so in 1776, in 1812, in 1861, and +it was again to prove so in 1917. Unlike the Russians, +who can always change their outward principles +completely, without losing any of their inner +characteristics, the Americans have no special inner +characteristics (as they have no aristocracy) but +make up for this lack by their whole-hearted obedience +<span class="pagenum" id="p_342">[342]</span>to certain primary ideas and taboos which are +to them sacred. The threat which Germany delivered +to the cherished right of America to trade +freely with all the nations of the earth, and thereby +to end the whole edifice of American prosperity, +proved sufficient to unite all sections of the American +people; and never did President Wilson speak +more surely on behalf of the entire nation than +when, paraphrasing Luther, he declared that +America “could do no other” than fight.</p> + +<p>Thus it happened that America, immense in untouched +power and resource, united to defeat Germany +at the same moment when Russia, bleeding +and defeated, with an internal revolution on her +hands, reeled out of the struggle. For the first time—if +we except the opening up of Japan in which +each had taken previously a hand—the two nations +whose effort was to dominate the future, met on a +common ground. Like an electric flash, or the +torches that the Greek runners had carried in their +races long gone by, an impulse flashed from one to +the other. That impulse may have differed in +origin, but not in aim. What Russia by her concentration +of power into a vacillating but central +ruling class, could not do, America, by her diffusion +of power into a self-reliant bourgeoisie, accomplished. +Russia had crippled the European nationalist +military machine; America overwhelmed the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_343">[343]</span>economic. And not only the liberated Slavs of +Eastern Europe, but also the Mediterranean +powers, owe their existence to-day to the action of +two nations, neither of which stood to profit +thereby: America and Russia.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_14"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>The impulse that had pushed the two great +frontier nations forward to their momentary encounter +on the blood-soaked and devastated soil of +Europe, was unquestionably the same in essence, +though differing profoundly in origin and in ultimate +result. In the case of Russia, the unconscious +weight of public opinion, holding steadily to its +ancient dream of a great Pan-Slav Empire, had +literally pushed from behind the vacillating and +enfeebled Czar. In the case of America, an aloof, +cautious, and essentially undemocratic President +had found at last a democratic formula to which +popular opinion, holding firm to its old dream of +liberty for all peoples, could respond. The situation +of 1688, of 1776-89, of 1860-65 was thus repeated, +on a larger scale, and with the world itself +for background; and the repercussion of both +events in their respective countries led to the same +profound and far-reaching changes.</p> + +<p>In America, the principles which President Wilson +<span class="pagenum" id="p_344">[344]</span>had enunciated in his celebrated Fourteen +Points—principles which the Allies promptly accepted +as a basis for negotiation with a Germany, +now ready to acknowledge its defeat, and which +they conveniently forgot immediately afterwards—came +into open and direct conflict with the outstanding +notion which had guided America in its +foreign relations since the days of Washington; +that there was to be above all, aloofness from Europe, +no entanglement in European affairs. The +result was that the American President, who had +been unquestionably empowered by his people to +wage war, found himself unable to make peace. +The moment he stepped upon European soil, President +Wilson ceased to represent the American +people and became only representative of himself. +Thus the declaration of the Armistice led not to +peace and sheathing of the sword, but to the last +act of the world struggle, an act in which America +was obliged to play the part of striving to rehabilitate +Europe economically, while standing aloof +politically.</p> + +<p>At the other end of the scale, it is necessary to +note that since the spring of 1917, Russia had been +in revolution, a revolution which took an extreme +form in the Bolshevik seizure of power in November +of that year. Lacking a Czar, abandoned by +its Allies, utterly disillusioned about the war, leaderless, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_345">[345]</span>and incapable of continuing the struggle, +the country now presented an opportunity to any +clever opportunist who could, under the guise of +promising to the peasants bread, peace and land, +effectively usurp the central power of the Czar. +Lenin alone saw this opportunity and was ready +to seize it and bend it to its purposes. A new alliance +equally deadly to avowed Czarists and liberal +intellectuals was forged between factory-worker +and mujik; and from the achievement of this alliance +we date present-day Russia. The situation +had found the sole man, ruthless, undemocratic, +efficient, who could guide it. In America, Wilson +had skilfully manœuvred his people into a position +where further retreat into neutrality was, as he +thought, impossible. He had created his own opportunity, +instead of waiting for it to come to him; +and having created it, he immediately supposed that +he could personally master it, and that it would follow +him blindly. He did not count on the revulsion +of horror that would follow upon America’s awakening +to the fact that the country was enmeshed in +European diplomacy, the determination on the part +of his people to remain an independent frontier. +Thus the American and the Russian crises followed +very different courses.</p> + +<p>There is much in the career of Woodrow Wilson +that recalls the tragic life-story of the Egyptian +<span class="pagenum" id="p_346">[346]</span>Pharaoh, Amenophis IV, known to later ages as +Akhnaton. Like the Egyptian king who strove to +transform the religion of his people from a tribal +polytheism into a pure and universal form of monotheism, +Wilson strove to formulate finally the +American creed as it affected the world. But the +American creed is too loosely held, too vague a +sentiment, to be formulated. A Californian, +though he may belong to the same racial stock, +cannot have the same outlook as a New Englander; +a New Orleans Creole cannot share the attitude to +life of a Scandinavian settler in Northern Michigan. +America owes its continuance solely to the +fact that all these diverse racial and geographical +stocks assume that their pooled effort will make +America sufficient to itself, and that “government +of the people by the people for the people” will +still persist in bestowing the fruits of middle-class +prosperity. But it is obvious that this simple creed—or +superstition—cannot be maintained if once +any attempt is made to apply it to the more complex +European situation. Once America backs any +side in the European struggle, then that side has +to become outwardly, if not inwardly, American; +that is to say, it has to abandon all the traditional +differences that distinguish it from its European +neighbours. Wilson strove to reconcile the psychology +of America with the remoter psychology of Europe, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_347">[347]</span>in the same way as Amenophis strove to identify +all forms of Egyptian worship with his own +personal and individual creed. In striving thus to +simplify the situation, he merely complicated it. +And the result was, as in the case of the Egyptian +Pharaoh whom he resembled, a personal tragedy of +immense magnitude, which left the American President +an outlaw and heretic in his own country, and +pursued him to his death with rancour and misunderstanding.</p> + +<p>Russia in repudiating the war and the Romanovs +had to repudiate Europe, and this despite the Bolsheviks +themselves, whose dream was probably a +Marxian version of Peter the Great’s Empire. It +became again a peasant country facing the East. +America, by its repudiation of Wilson, was driven +also to repudiate Europe, and this despite the most +intelligent classes of Americans who were aware +that the one hope of the maintenance of European +peace lay in the establishment of an European concert +of nations. America became again a land of +opportunist industrialism, facing westward. Thus +the two nations, having like two planets revolved +in opposing orbits up to the moment these orbits +coincided, resumed again their former course, but +not without the hope of some further encounter in +the future. The optimistic idealism of President +Wilson, ready to accept the most outrageous provisions +<span class="pagenum" id="p_348">[348]</span>of the Versailles Treaty for the sake of preserving +his conception of a League of Nations +bound to respect the fundamental principles of +democracy, was finally rejected not by Europe, but +by America. The fatalistic materialism of Lenin, +ready to swallow complete defeat at Brest-Litovsk +for the sake of creating a proletarian world-empire, +broke equally before the lack of European support +and the obstinacy of the Russian peasantry. With +Wilson’s final retirement and Lenin’s new economic +policy the issue of the great drama was largely settled +as regards the two chief protagonists of Russia +and America. But the third, Europe, caught in the +cleft of the dilemma, unable to decide for either +democratic capitalism or demagogic dictatorship, +has as yet found no clear issue out of the impasse.</p> + +<p>This position, which is the world position of +to-day, was enforced on Europe by the successive +abandonment of the European situation on the part +of both Russia and America. In the case of Russia, +the abandonment was perhaps more absolute, because +it was more deeply psychological. The Russian +asked Europe for a new fetich, a new sacred +talisman, to replace the old fetich of the Orthodox +Czar which was utterly worn out, and impotent to +protect him longer against misfortune. Such a +belief in the power of a fetich, a cult-object, is Oriental, +and indeed the Russian is fundamentally +<span class="pagenum" id="p_349">[349]</span>Oriental. The fetich of success had been imported +formerly from abroad, by Peter the Great, by Catherine, +by Alexander II, by Witte. Now it was no +longer forthcoming. Even the guns and the gold +that the Allies had promised and provided, were +turning against the Russians themselves. A new +talisman would have to be found within. Lenin +was the sole man who could provide it. A workman’s +cap, a few words from Marx, education and +electric light for all, would be sufficient. Russia +could scramble out of her impasse, secure in the +conviction that she henceforth could control her +destiny alone, while undermining the nations of +Europe with their own revolutionary ethic.</p> + +<p>But America, too, abandoned Europe for causes +that, however economic they may appear on the +surface, have a firmly-grounded psychological +foundation. Unlike Russia, all the talismans, +wealth, power, prosperity, were in her hands. But +she was uneasy because she could not discover a +verbal formula that would cover equally her own +political union and the diversity of disunited European +nations. This belief in a formula—which +expresses itself in Egyptian hieroglyph, in Aristotelian +syllogism, in algebraic equation—is Occidental, +and America is fundamentally Occidental. +Even the arguments of the most enlightened European +statesmen, prepared to back up President +<span class="pagenum" id="p_350">[350]</span>Wilson in his demand for a League of Nations, +turned against America itself. A League of +Nations—what did that mean but a confederation +of sovereign and independent states such as had +threatened to disrupt the economic alliance between +North and Middle West during the fateful years +of 1854-65? What else did it mean, but that the +Americans themselves, in so far as they were still +sentimentally attached to Europe, could still feel +themselves to be Europeans? The whole process +of “Americanization” was threatened by such a +programme. Common standards of Puritan conduct, +of business dealing, of economic prosperity +were threatened by such a step. Wilson’s words, +however close they seemed to Lincoln’s, would +effectively destroy all that the armies invoked by +Lincoln had fought for. They would destroy +Americanism, and make Europeans equal in every +respect, to Americans. Let them be anathema! +America hastened to scramble out of her impasse, +fearful that the European nations were plotting +against her, and determined henceforth to undermine +them by means of the “peaceful penetration” +of mass-production.</p> + +<p>Nations have their phobias and complexes no less +than individuals. In the case of America and Russia, +a complex and a phobia were to take the place +of the natural growth of tradition, and to strive to +overcome the world.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_351">[351]</span></p> + + + <h3 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_XVII"> + Chapter XVII + </h3> +</div> + + +<p>For the past ten years the situation of Europe +has been both grotesque and tragic. Had she +made her exit from the stage of world-politics with +the gesture of tragic dignity that marked the downfall +of the ancient Roman Empire, had she been +overwhelmed by a new wave of barbarians, the historian +of to-day might have a more pleasant and +profitable task to fulfill. But unfortunately nothing +of this came to pass, nor did Europe really recover +from the death-blow of the war. Since 1921, +when the French armies marched into the Ruhr, she +has become like a patient suffering from shell-shock +who acts irresponsibly and has no coherent purpose +in life. Apart from the tenuous hope of a League +of Nations which has not been able to prevent fresh +combinations of power, such as have been clearly +revealed by the various naval pacts, nor fresh outbursts +of rabid nationalism, such as France, Italy +and various Balkan nationalities have displayed, +Europe has done little, either morally or politically. +Of the two new world-philosophies offered her, she +has chosen neither.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_352">[352]</span></p> + +<p>The American world-philosophy, in the ultimate +form that it has taken since the close of the war, is +a rough-and-ready simplification of the far more +complex but equally individualistic social philosophy +of Washington, Jefferson and Lincoln. It +exalts the physical liberty of the individual at the +expense of his general social and moral responsibility. +Immediately after the close of war, the labour +situation in America became again acute. The +great industrial trade unions, realising the immense +part they had played in carrying the Allied effort +to a successful conclusion, had long begun to agitate +for an overthrow of the existing form of government +and for such a seizure of power as had been +effected in Russia. The American system of democratic +capitalism, reverting into the hands of the +great industrialists and their allies and servants, set +itself to the task of destroying this opposition. Its +two outstanding means were mass-production and +coöperative capitalism. It set itself to the task of +manufacturing more quickly and of giving the +worker a share in the product. Thereby it created +a new prosperity and a standardised happiness. +Any protest became in the eyes of its leaders a +crime against true Americanism. To enforce this +unalterable Americanism upon the immense +masses of citizens of foreign descent, it was necessary +to stop the flow of immigration; and this was +<span class="pagenum" id="p_353">[353]</span>promptly done. To prevent the country lapsing +into a state of sheer moral anarchy, such as was +foreshadowed by the post-war revivals of the Ku +Klux Klan, the fierce recrudescence of race-hatreds +cutting athwart all sections of American life, it was +necessary to concentrate solely on a more intensive +development of that industrial prosperity that had +characterised the war years. The South was industrially +invaded as well as the North, the East +and the West became more firmly linked together +by the great money and manufacturing interests. +Finally, to ensure that the reëstablishment of the +country was to be permanent, on the old basis of +complete aloofness from both European radicalism +and European idealism, it was necessary to stifle +or suppress freedom of spirit, freedom of thought, +freedom of public utterance, and to concentrate +altogether on the immense material achievements +that America had already accomplished—the improvement +in living conditions, the provisions of +schools, hospitals, roads, and scientific inventions +for all sections of the population. Accordingly, the +study of American patriotic views became an important +part of school curriculums. Anyone who +thought otherwise than these views taught, must +either hold his peace or accept exile and poverty. +During the years that immediately succeeded the +war, a new body of American intellectuals again +<span class="pagenum" id="p_354">[354]</span>took the road to Europe, not to mention those who +were forcibly cast out upon Soviet Russia.</p> + +<p>The Russian world-philosophy, as formulated by +the leaders of the new Bolshevik régime, was also a +comprehensive simplification of what was formerly +a much more complex social position. It skilfully +provided an outlet for public enterprise, while maintaining +the power in the hands of a specially chosen +and selected class. Unquestioningly the Bolsheviks +accepted the postulate, which America had been +foremost in proclaiming, that all power derives +ultimately from the lowest ranks of the people, +from the peasants and factory workers. This happened +also to be the postulate of Karl Marx, and +accordingly Marxism became a new State religion +to take the place of the old, which had delegated +this power of the people themselves into the hands +of the Czar and of the Orthodox Church. But in +its application to the situation created by the Russian +débâcle, this dogma proved to be just as much +of a check upon free activity as had all the old restrictions +of the Czar. It exalted the moral and +social responsibility of the individual at the expense +of his physical liberty. Everyone, whether Communist +or not, must henceforth behave in the way +laid out for him by the heads of the Communist +party, who though representing an even smaller +proportion of the entire people than the American +<span class="pagenum" id="p_355">[355]</span>Wall Street magnates, nevertheless had now all the +power in their hands. The masses would be fed, +housed, educated, on condition only that they did +not undertake counter-revolutionary propaganda, +and the Communist Secret Service was there to +enforce this law, on penalty of death or imprisonment, +against all who attempted to modify the +existing political system. A new revolutionary +army, recruited among the peasants, and backed by +firm discipline, arose to take the place of the old; +but the field of its activity was to be limited to helping +the foreign proletariat to overthrow their own +capitalist Imperialist governments, and to maintaining +Lenin’s system intact at home. All foreign +influences, whether in the shape of very limited +concessions to foreign capital, or works of art with +a definitely anti-communist tendency, were to be +severely supervised and ruthlessly suppressed. +Thus freedom of activity outside the bounds of the +Communist dogma became as impossible in Russia +during the years after the war, as freedom of +thought outside the bounds of the Capitalist assumption +became in America. The underlying aim +of the Russians became to create an army of young +Lenins; that of the Americans to achieve a million +Henry Fords.⁠<a id="FNanchor_8_8" href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_356">[356]</span></p> + +<p>It is quite obvious that none of the European +nations could whole-heartedly accept either the +American or the Russian solution. To follow the +Russian idea out in all its logical implications meant +the suppression of the Parliamentary régime to +which Europe had been accustomed, and the transformation +of all the European countries from constitutional +monarchies to proletarian dictatorships, +in which the will of a single man, or a small committee +of men reinforced and balanced through the +establishment of local advisory councils controlled +all industrial production. To carry out in detail +the American idea, it was necessary for Europe to +abolish all gradations of rank and responsibility, +such as a constitutional monarchy implies, and to +concentrate entirely on demagogic parliamentarism, +backed and controlled by the industrial interests +which have everything to gain from an increase +of individual production and prosperity. To follow +out this ideal proved quite as impossible for Europe +as to Russianise their existing populations. The +traditional conservatism which dreads a complete +break with the past, the already established forms +of social, moral, and religious usage, and the lingering +remnants of nationalist pride and sentiment, +stood everywhere in the way. Only in one country, +Italy, was the combination effected of proletarian +demagogy and autocratic dictatorship. Thanks to +<span class="pagenum" id="p_357">[357]</span>a chapter of accidents, Mussolini and his henchmen +took over the rule of that country from the hands +of the conservative Catholics and the anti-clerical +Liberals alike. For the rest, the European countries +tended to fall into the same alignment that had +been theirs upon the first appearance of America +and Russia upon the stage of the world. Western +Europe, led by England and reconstructed Germany, +tended to become more and more American +and parliamentary; Eastern Europe, under the +leadership of Italy, Hungary, Poland, tended to +become more and more arbitrary and swayed by the +dictates of revolutionary militarism.</p> + + +<h4 id="2_16"> + 2 +</h4> + +<p>The modern world, which we are examining from +the perilously close range of participators in, rather +than spectators of its effort, is essentially the fruit +of two streams of influence, emanating from beyond +the European frontier, and expressing themselves +logically in the solutions of the social problem +which America and Russia have found. These two +streams of influence have been at work upon Europe, +and in a different way upon the Far East, +for at least two centuries past. At the present +moment they are rapidly approaching their culmination. +In order to understand this culmination +<span class="pagenum" id="p_358">[358]</span>it is necessary to turn aside from the field of +outward political action and to state, as far as such +things can be finally stated, the fundamental psychological +characteristics that go to the making up +of what may be called the typical Russian and the +typical American.</p> + +<p>The Americans, taken as a class apart from +Europeans or Asiatics, tend to have no interest +whatever in thought for its own sake. Their special +delight is not in thought, but in purely physical +activity. This refusal to think maturely, to speculate +even remotely about the ultimate problems of +the world and of humanity, has frequently led +European observers to characterise the American +people as a young nation, a nation not grown up. +But it was possibly quite as evident in the days of +Washington as it is now; the only difference being +that it has by now grown a dominating characteristic +of all parts of the country, whereas in the early +stages it was confined mostly to the frontier, and +obscured from view by the influence of the better-educated +colonial seaboard settlements, still under +the spell of European ways of thinking. The whole +course of American history may be summed up as +the history of the spread of the pioneer and of his +type of mind into every department of human +effort. The pioneer type is always a man too busy +with cutting away virgin forests, building roads, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_359">[359]</span>cultivating land, opening mines and factories, inventing +machines, making automobiles, gambling +with stocks, devoting himself to social “service,” to +stop and ponder upon the æsthetic values of art and +religion, or the metaphysical problems of human +destiny. Such questions cannot enter into his pragmatic +scheme of material effort directed towards +immediate ends. For him the sheer delight of +making suffices, not the value of the thing made. +So habitual, so universal has this cult of activity for +its own sake grown to the Americans, that it is constantly +employed by all ranks of the people as a +substitute for thought. The American uses leisure +itself, not as a valuable opportunity for self-examination, +but only as a stimulus to some new kind of +activity. Sports and games, travel, book- and +picture-collecting, education itself, become for him +simply fresh pretexts for employing some more of +his surplus energy, for taking part in some new +form of mental distraction. For example, the +European lecturers who annually go to America +in such great numbers may be under the illusion +that they are somehow guiding or directing the +American mind into more fruitful channels; their +American audiences are under no such illusion. +Their aim is at the best merely to rapidly get firsthand +information about some new fact that puzzles +them; at the worst, to momentarily accept the lecturer’s +<span class="pagenum" id="p_360">[360]</span>own views as a substitute for creative and +independent thinking of their own, whereby they +share the illusion that they are actually participating +in some form of human thought-process.</p> + +<p>Even when the American is in repose, he must +somehow feel that his body, if not his mind, is exerting +itself. The fundamental symbol of American +life is not, as many observers have held, the skyscraper, +with its busy activity, nor the athletic field +with its gladiatorial baseball and football games, +nor even that puritanic symbol of the pitcher of +melting ice-water which makes its inevitable appearance +equally upon the tables of the humblest +lunch counters and the desks of bank presidents and +statesmen. The true, the classic American symbol +is the rocking-chair. It symbolises alike domestic +comfort, and nomadic restlessness. In the rocking-chair +one need not speak and yet one must continue +to move to and fro. In the rocking-chair activity +becomes a soothing narcotic, and absence of mental +purpose a stimulus to further effort. The rocking-chair +removes all the necessity for the contemplation +of the great cosmos of justice and injustice, +truth and falsehood, beauty and ugliness, to plant +man firmly in the lesser cosmos of his personal +individuality, his simple animal “reaction” to practical +truth. In the rocking-chair one can “loaf and +invite one’s soul” for an endless journey. The goal +<span class="pagenum" id="p_361">[361]</span>does not matter. This is true on every weekday, +and on Sunday the activities of the rocking-chair +are supplemented by the Sunday newspaper supplement, +providing another substitute for thought.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, the Russians, as opposed to +the Americans, tend to have very little interest in +physical activity. A fund of Mongolian inertia, +concealed at the roots of the Russian character, +probably accounts for this; but it is impossible to +understand the tragic disorder of many Russian +lives,⁠<a id="FNanchor_9_9" href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> as well as the strange crisis of feverish and +misdirected fury that traverse Russian history, +unless we admit at the outset that the Russian is +in some way prejudiced against activity for its own +sake. If he undertakes activity at all, it must be +for some object that lies beyond activity. Thus we +find the Russian peasant becoming a tramp in order +to “save his soul”; the Russian intellectual indulging +in all forms of drunken debauchery in order to +acquire the “experience that is necessary to an +artist”; the Russian Czar making war on Oriental +or European nations in order to prove that he is +“by the Grace of God, leader of Eastern Orthodox +Christianity.” Nor has the Russian Revolution +brought about any change in this state of affairs. +Lenin himself, although he displayed while in +power a quite remarkably un-Russian ability to +<span class="pagenum" id="p_362">[362]</span>make rapid decisions, owed his advent to power +largely to his ability to hold his ground without +altering his position. His own pedantic and doctrinaire +Marxism shows, no less than his stoic fatalism, +the fact that mere obstinate adherence to a +theory was to him more important than practice, +for many years before the moment that he suddenly +found Russia at his feet. And Lenin owed, though +perhaps he himself would never have admitted it, +a great deal to the fiery Jew, Trotsky, who was +profoundly un-Russian, indeed American, in temperament. +The Revolution owed its success entirely +to a few clean-cut practical actions thrown +athwart a raging torrent of unpractical ideas and +theories; Lenin and Trotsky rather saved Russia +from herself, than created a new Russia. And since +the Revolution the stream of endless discussion of +theoretical ideas, has merely flowed on, like water +under a bridge, leaving the structure of the state +intact. A wise and witty French observer, Luc +Durtain, who has seen Russia since the Revolution, +has remarked that the Russian conversation is, in +times of food shortage, in itself equal to meat and +drink.</p> + +<p>What, then, is the specific symbol of Russian life? +It is not the immobile gleam of the ikon in the corner +of the house, nor the strangely drifting, tentative +and slow-gathering mass-demonstrations of the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_363">[363]</span>people, nor the oddly mechanical governmentally-ordered +demonstrations, nor the curiously vivid +splashes of gay and exotic colour that contrast with +the sombreness of the landscape. The specific +symbol of Russia is probably the samovar. Ready +at all times of the day and night to provide hot +water, it stimulates but does not nourish, like the +endless Russian conversations. It is the essential +element of every Russian social gathering, and yet +at the same time is only a pretext for meeting and +wasting one’s energy in talk: as much a pretext as +Moscow, Russia itself, life, or the Universe in Russian +eyes. It does not provide tea in itself. For +that a teapot is still necessary. It only provides +the hot water that may be used or not to produce +tea, as you will. In short, it is as perfect a symbol +of inactive power as anyone is ever likely to find. +And, like Russia herself, it has fire in its belly: fire +hidden away from too prying eyes, under an outward +shell of servility and conformity.</p> + + +<h4 id="3_15"> + 3 +</h4> + +<p>The conflict that is being fought out to-day between +America and Russia is a psychological one. +It is a subjective conflict between two opposed +conceptions of the destiny of mankind, rather than +an objective conflict between armies and directly +<span class="pagenum" id="p_364">[364]</span>political aims. And the two fields of its activity +are the European and the Asiatic world.</p> + +<p>Both Russia and America have achieved within +their borders what to them is the perfect mode of +existence. They have arrived at the Utopian state +of complete optimism and confidence for the future. +Despite the activities of one set of European +prophets, the Soviet system has not broken down. +It is more secure, after ten years, than the system +of Czardom that it replaced. Despite the activities +of another set of prophets, American democratic +capitalism has not broken down either. It apparently +possesses inexhaustible reserves of prosperity +and energy. But Europe, scarcely recovered from +the horrors of its own internecine struggle, cannot +follow the course of either country. Europe is like +the ancient Hebrew monarchy divided between the +imperialist tolerance of the kings of Israel and the +narrow particularism of the kings of Judah. To +the working classes the Russian solution, in its +trenchant logic, immediately appeals; but this +drives the capitalist classes only further towards +embracing the ideas of America. To the intellectuals, +the American solution is a monstrous vulgarisation; +but this only means that they must either +become reactionary, or accept the revolutionary +message of Russia. Europe, caught between the +intellectual and moral millstones of two great +<span class="pagenum" id="p_365">[365]</span>powers which were originally of its own creation, +but which have gone their own ways without accepting +the nineteenth century compromises, is awaiting +a new political Messiah with a clear message; hence +the popularity of such a figure as Mussolini. But +whether Europe, in its decadent cosmopolitanism, +will ever achieve anything resembling the unity of +which its poets only dreamed, is doubtful. It is far +more likely to pass, by gradual infiltration of influence +and direction, completely under the sway +of the United States.</p> + +<p>But it is not only in Europe that the world-struggle +is being waged. The balance of power, ultimately, +lies in the Far East, and its enormous +reserves of natural resources and of population. +And during the past ten years the Far East has +shown clearly the direction it proposes to follow. +It is ready to accept the material achievements of +the West, without in the slightest degree altering +its own racial and social traditions. Thus it is ready +to turn the weapons of the West against the West +itself, while remaining at heart far more akin to the +spirit of non-individualistic fatalism which has successfully +guided Russia. The most outstanding +example of this recent development in the East is +Japan, which in the words of a modern Russian +writer, “wishes to take her machinery from America, +her spiritual culture from Russia.” China +<span class="pagenum" id="p_366">[366]</span>and India are likely sooner or later to take the same +path, thanks to the awakening of Asiatic racial +pride, actively fomented by Europe’s glaring administrative +blunders and internal political divisions.</p> + + +<h4 id="4_9"> + 4 +</h4> + +<p>The parallel lines that we have drawn between +the two great frontier nations are now complete, +and the whole world finds itself in the dilemma of +having to make either a choice or a compromise +between the ideals of America and of Russia. At +the present moment, the tendency is probably +towards a compromise of some sort, the war years +and post-war years having too profoundly shaken +mankind. But this tendency is only temporary, +and is due to the slow disappearance of the generation +that lived through the crisis of the war, a generation +that emerged from the conflict profoundly +sceptical of itself and of others, and incapable of +the supreme unreason of an absolute creed.</p> + +<p>If Russia succeeds in consolidating its moral +gains in the Far East, while America no less succeeds +in its clever policy of economic penetration +into Europe—a policy to which European newspapers, +theatres, hotels, shops and social usages are +gradually but unmistakably responding—if these +two achievements come about, another world-conflict +<span class="pagenum" id="p_367">[367]</span>is almost certain to take place before the close +of the twentieth century. For between an industrialised +and proletarian East and an industrialised +and plutocratic West, the population problem will +rapidly become as acute as it already is in Japan. +Nor will the sporadic and necessarily individualistic +propaganda of birth control mend matters here. +Under the present conditions controlling this propaganda, +the better, finer and more harmonious sections +of the population simply tend to die out, while +the lower, baser, and least intelligent, go on increasing—thus +destroying the aim of eugenics and inverting +the true course of human evolution. This +inversion of evolution is now powerfully aided by +the mushroom-like growth of industrial capitalism, +ready to exploit the lower levels for its own purposes, +and also by all so-called “religious” propaganda, +which has unfortunately always an equally +“practical” end in view, whether directed by the +ideals of Communist Bolshevism, Catholic Ecclesiasticism, +or American Rotarianism. Thus the only +hope for avoidance of a conflict between the two +forces loosed on the world by Russia and America, +becomes some shadowy proposal for complete disarmament, +or the limitation of competitive industrialism +and the breeding of a new aristocratic élite +to control the economic and social life of the various +nations. Such a proposal lies apparently outside +<span class="pagenum" id="p_368">[368]</span>the sphere of “practical” politics, and only the idealist +philosopher Plato has dealt fully with its implications.</p> + +<p>The fact that most intelligent Europeans have +come to despair of the prospect, and have practically +abandoned any further attempt to control the +two opposing forces let loose upon the world, is +shown by the extraordinary revival, within recent +years, of intellectual interest in the eighteenth century. +Such people realise that the nineteenth +century, with its compromise between materialism +and idealism, failed to liberate humanity, so they +yearn to go back to a happier, more harmonious +time, before instinct and reason conflicted, when +neither Russia nor America interfered with the +course of human existence. This movement towards +the eighteenth century is however merely a +final gesture of world-weary romanticism, impotent +to create any new values for humanity. It cannot +postpone by a single day the conflict that is increasingly +approaching between the unloosed forces of +America and Russia.</p> + +<p>The only factors that may prevent that conflict +from taking on an acute phase in the not distant +future, exist not in hyper-intellectual and creatively +sterile Europe, but in Russia and in America themselves. +Russia’s attempt to get the East completely +on her side by stirring up the Asiatics against the +<span class="pagenum" id="p_369">[369]</span>Caucasians may perhaps prove abortive, for the +reason that the heads of the Communist party take +at the same time no pains to conceal their immense +contempt for all forms of transcendent and organised +religion save their own. This side of Bolshevik +propaganda may possibly fail to appeal very +strongly to the other-worldly millions of the Orient. +At the same time, America’s effort to control Europe +through intensive financial and economic +penetration may possibly fail because of the inferior +intellectual character of the envoys she sends to +Europe, or because Europe may still place a higher +value on leisure, culture, and beauty, than upon +any of the energy-wasting devices America has to +offer her. But apart from this, there seems very +little doubt that America and Russia are destined +to bulk more and more largely in the world’s +affairs, until the inevitable clash between them takes +place. Europe has no longer the economic force +nor the creative will to resist America. Asia has no +longer the spiritual fervour nor the unified faith +to hold back Russia.</p> + +<p>If such a conflict as we have envisaged should +take place, what would be the result? The crisis +of the European war would simply be repeated on +a larger scale. Russia, together with her Eastern +allies, would possess incalculable reserves of man-power; +and the fact that the Soviet Republic has +<span class="pagenum" id="p_370">[370]</span>shown a determination to maintain in existence a +highly-efficient and disciplined army of considerable +numbers, would give her an initial advantage, +in case the first attack in the opening stages of the +contest came from her side. But America and her +European allies would undoubtedly possess a preponderance +of machinery, greater financial resources, +and a far superior naval and aerial force. +After the first year of battle, their effort would only +increase, while Russia’s effort would almost necessarily +diminish. Russia’s only hope would be in a +short rather than in a long war.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, even should the Western +Allies hold the coasts of Russia, together with the +Far East, in a complete blockade, a Russo-Mongolian +combination could continue the struggle +almost indefinitely. The immense reserves of food, +land, and man-power at the disposal of the Soviet +war lords would insure this. Russia cannot be completely +beaten by a blockade (even when that is +aided by internal famine) as the Allies found out +in 1919. Nor can she be beaten by land-invasion, +as Napoleon found out in 1812. The only hope +for the West of obtaining a decision in their favour +would be to invade and terrorise Russia through the +air. Such a campaign, if the West had sufficient +preponderance in the air to carry it to a successful +conclusion, might eventually lead to an admission +<span class="pagenum" id="p_371">[371]</span>of physical defeat on Russia’s part. But hers +would nevertheless remain a moral victory of enormous +importance to the future of the human race.</p> + +<p>The dangers of a war of this nature, especially +if the forces engaged are anywhere near equal, can +scarcely be overstated. The recent European war +gave those who took part in it a faint foretaste of +them. There would be continuous bombing of +enemy capitals, communications, granaries, food +and munition depots. Armies would operate at +enormous distances from their base of supplies, with +resultant tension and spirit of mutiny ready to +flame up every moment. Ocean-going submarines +would defy the blockade, and spread death and +destruction on the high seas. Governments might +have to meet and be conducted from secret places +underground in order to escape destruction from +poison-gas and other lethal weapons. Spying and +counter-spying would be universal. Such a state +of affairs might well lead the world rapidly back +to a state of sheer anarchy, and undo in a few years +the finest effort of five thousand years of civilisation. +The break-up of the Roman Empire, or the +recent chaos in China, offers but a feeble picture of +what such a world would be like. The end of such +a conflict might well be such a state of famine, disorder +and exhaustion as to leave no hope to mankind +for the future.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_372">[372]</span></p> + +<p>Under these circumstances, the duty of every +intelligent Russian and every intelligent American +of to-day becomes clear. Since salvation is not to +be looked for either from the old civilisations of the +East nor from the more recent European civilisations; +since both are now rapidly and inevitably in +decay after their last great creative period (which +was the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, rather +than the eighteenth or nineteenth); since, above all, +no revival of unified religious faith is to be looked +for either among the Western Christian sects, or +the great Oriental religions, we must either find +some hope of salvation in ourselves, or admit our +defeat, and with it the ultimate defeat of mankind. +Step by step, inch by inch, we must oppose the tides +of Bolshevism and of Americanism that are now +sweeping over the world. We must save America +and Russia from themselves. That is our mission +and our purpose. But how can we fulfil this mission +that our time—perhaps the most tragic time +in all human history—imposes upon us? We can +not fulfil it separately, for that is a task beyond the +powers of any single man, or body of men. We +must strive to inform both America and Russia with +a purpose alien to their whole historical development. +Against these two attempts to impose on +mankind a purely mechanical and material conformity, +we must uphold, perhaps for the last time, +<span class="pagenum" id="p_373">[373]</span>the values of an ideal and supra-physical unity of +spirit, not of function, of a humanism that is at +once scientific and æsthetic, and of a world outlook +that reconciles both man’s desire to achieve “the +good life” for himself on this planet, and his overwhelming +sense of awe and wonder at the superhuman +processes of the universe. Perhaps this task +is altogether beyond our feeble and intermittent +powers. Yet it is the one remaining task left to +humanity to accomplish in our age. And after all, +it is a problem that only education can solve, and +we must leave it to the teachers to accomplish. It +is Russia, not America, that needs an Emerson to +lead it towards individual self-reliance. It is America, +not Russia that needs a Dostoevsky to show it +the value of common submission to the mysterious +powers that govern the development of all spirituality.</p> + +<p class="right"> + <i>April 1927–August 1929.</i> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="p_374"></a><a id="p_375"></a>[375]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="BIBLIOGRAPHY"> + BIBLIOGRAPHY + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The list that follows is not intended to be exhaustive. +To cite, for example, all the literary +works of the authors discussed in Book III would +be a wearisome and a fruitless task. The list here +given will be found valuable to the student who +seeks to expand his mental horizon by reading further +on the topics discussed in these pages.</p> + + +<h3 id="GENERAL_WORKS"> + <i>GENERAL WORKS</i> +</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">A History of Russia</span>, by Sir Bernard Pares. 1927.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Oxford History of the United States</span>, by S. E. +Morison. 2 vols. 1927.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Main Currents in American Thought</span>, by Vernon Louis +Parrington. 1927.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>Vol. I. <span class="smcap">The Colonial Mind (1620-1800).</span></p> + +<p>Vol. II. <span class="smcap">The Romantic Revolution (1800-1860).</span></p> +</blockquote> + +<p><span class="smcap">A History of Russian Literature to 1881</span>, by Prince +D. S. Mirsky. 1927.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Contemporary Russian Literature, 1881-1925</span>, by +Prince D. S. Mirsky. 1926.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>(These two books contain valuable bibliographies of +works translated into English.)</p> +</blockquote> + +<p><span class="smcap">Panorama de la Littérature Russe Contemporaire</span>, by +Vladimir Pozner. Paris. 1929.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Decline of the West</span>, by Oswald Spengler. 2 vols. +1926-9.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_376">[376]</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Essai sur l’Inégalité des Races Humains</span>, by Count +Arthur Gobineau. 2 vols. Paris. 1884.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Degradation of the Democratic Dogma</span>, by Henry +Adams. 1919.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Law of Civilization and Decay</span>, by Brooks Adams. +1921.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Revolutions of Civilization</span>, by Flinders Petrie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">History of Religions</span>, by G. F. Moore. Vol. I (Egypt, +Babylonia, Assyria, etc.). International Theological +Library, 1914.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Amarna Age. A Study of the Crisis of the +Ancient World</span>, by Rev. James Baikie. 1926.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Emancipation of Massachusetts</span>, by Brooks +Adams. Revised and enlarged edition with new +Preface. 1919.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Middletown</span>, by Robert S. and Helen Merrill Lynd. +1929.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Golden Day</span>, by Lewis Mumford. 1926.</p> + + +<h3 id="WORKS_ON_SPECIAL_TOPICS"> + <i>WORKS ON SPECIAL TOPICS</i> +</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">George Washington, the Image and the Man</span>, by +W. E. Woodward. 1928.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Catherine the Great</span>, by Katherine Anthony. 1925.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hawthorne</span>, by Henry James. (English Men of Letters +Series) 1879.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Herman Melville, Mariner and Mystic</span>, by Raymond +M. Weaver. 1921.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Whitman, An Interpretation in Narrative</span>, by Emory +Holloway. 1926.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Walt Whitman</span>, by Basil de Sélincourt. London. 1914.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dostoevsky</span>, by André Gide. Paris. 1923.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="p_377">[377]</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tolstoy as Man and Artist</span>, by Dmitri Merejkowski. +1902.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Ordeal of Mark Twain</span>, by Van Wyck Brooks. +1922.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stephen Crane</span>, by Thomas Beer (with a preface by +Joseph Conrad). 1923.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anton Chekhov</span>, by Leon Shestov, 1916.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Woodrow Wilson</span>, by William Allen White. 1926.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Woodrow Wilson: A Character Study</span>, by R. E. Annin. +1924.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lenin</span>, by Valeriu Marcu. 1928.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Geist und Geschichte der Bolschewismus</span>, by Réne +Fülop-Miller. 1927.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">L’Autre Europe. Moscou et Sa Foi</span>, by Luc Durtain. +1928.</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="FOOTNOTES"> + FOOTNOTES + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_1_1" href="#FNanchor_1_1" class="label">[1]</a> The threat of pogroms has by no means disappeared under the +Bolsheviks. See Luc Durtain’s “L’Autre Europe” for details.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_2_2" href="#FNanchor_2_2" class="label">[2]</a> His mother’s name was Rachel Levine. His father is unknown. +Mrs. Levine might have been a Christian married in a Jewish family +but the name of Rachel is not common among Christians.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_3_3" href="#FNanchor_3_3" class="label">[3]</a> This statement may perhaps be questioned by some Catholics. +Apparently, Catholics are not allowed to undertake missionary activity +in Russia. But the church cult has not been suppressed.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_4_4" href="#FNanchor_4_4" class="label">[4]</a> This same image was recently removed by the Bolsheviks, apparently +without any opposition whatever. Such are the paradoxes of +Russian history.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_5_5" href="#FNanchor_5_5" class="label">[5]</a> A notable exception is the sermon in Melville’s “Moby Dick.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_6_6" href="#FNanchor_6_6" class="label">[6]</a> Isabel F. Hapgood. Introduction to “Taras Bulba.” New +York, 1915.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_7_7" href="#FNanchor_7_7" class="label">[7]</a> It has been estimated that during the fifty years between 1870 +and 1910, America added to her previous population of forty million, +twenty-five million foreign settlers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_8_8" href="#FNanchor_8_8" class="label">[8]</a> See on this point, “The Diary of a Communist Schoolboy,” by S. +Ignatyev. Also “American Prosperity” by Paul M. Mazur.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_9_9" href="#FNanchor_9_9" class="label">[9]</a> For example, the life of Pushkin or of Dostoevsky.</p></div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78697 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78697-h/images/cover.jpg b/78697-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..847b293 --- /dev/null +++ b/78697-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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