MA S TER NEGA TIVE NO. 92-80478 MICROFILMED 1992 COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES/NEW YORK as part of the "Foundations of Western Civilization Preservation Project" Funded by the NATIONAL ENDOWMENT FOR THE HUMANITIES Reproductions may not be made without permission from Columbia University Library COPYRIGHT STATEMENT The copyright law of the United States - Title 17, United States Code ~ concerns the making of photocopies or other reproductions of copyrighted material... Columbia University Library reserves the right to refuse to accept a copy order if, in its judgement, fulfillment of the order would involve violation of the copyright law. AUTHOR: POBEDONOSTSEV, K. P TITLE: REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN PLACE: LONDON DA TE : 1898 COLUMBIA UNIVEIISITY LIBRARIES PRESERVATION DEPARTMENT Master Negative # .U--X0*t7.t--*l BinUOGRAPIIIC MICROFORM TARGET Original Material as Filmed - Fxisling Bibliographic Record 947.01 P75- ■D947-.01- F75- Moskovskii sbornik. I PobcdonoGtGGv, ^'^ono tail tin Pctrovicli, 101:^7-1907 • \ Hci'lecLions of ?. RuGsian statccnan, by K. P» : FobycdonoGtGGfr. '-^'r. Tron tho RuGciaii by Robert 5 Drozior ^on[;;. Vi'ith a [rcfaco by ^If^a ^^ovikoff . \ London, Ricliards, 1898. xi, 271 p. -Copy- Ln- Bar nar d. —1890." Reslriclions on Use: TECHNICAL MICROFORM DATA FILM SIZE: ^^2^_^ IMAGE PLACEMENT: lA ClI^ DATE FILM HLMED BY REDUCTION RATIO:_ _ IB IIB LMGD: Jl/_^_y/_±JL^ INITIALS ZXTyZ^ : R ESEARCH PUBLICATIONS, INC VVOODBRIDGE. CT "^ /^ y c Association for information and Image Management 1100 Wayne Avenue, Suite 1100 Silver Spring. Maryland 20910 301/587-8202 /. Centimeter 1 2 3 4 5 » PREFACE i>' Several years ago, Mr Kinglake, the author of ^ the " Crimean War," whom we, his friends, gener- ^ ally called " Eothen," wrote to me suggesting that I should make a study of the Decay of Parlia- mentarism. Here is a part of his letter: "Now I am going 'to set you a subject,' as your governess would have said in the days of the schoolroom. " I think it might suit your position to write on the *Fall of Parliamentary Government' You would please Moscow, please Petersburg, please your Emperor, and though not exactly pleasing England, you would win her attention, and perhaps put her on her mettle, and teach her to mend her ways. Let me know what you think of this, and if I hear that you incline to the subject I will revert to it." Mr Froude urged me to do the same, but the task to which I was invited was far beyond my power. Besides, I should only have repeated what was so much better said by Carlyle, Sir Henry Maine, Mr Lecky, and others. But that difficult duty was undertaken by a Russian, who possesses all the scientific qualifications for such an examin- ation. The book, which Mr Pobyedonostseff pub- lished in Russian, and which was immediately, translated into German, French, and Italian referring principally to that subject, has been extensively circulated on the Continent. It has not until now been translated into English. b ^ VI PREFACE In securing its appearance in the present form, I feel as if I were in some measure, though vicariously, carrying out the wish of my two departed friends, Kinglake and Froude. Of the author of this remarkable and pregnant volume of reflections upon the grandest problems of Church and State, it is not necessary for me to say more than a single word. That word is his name, a name familiar through- out Europe. It stands for Religion as opposed to Atheism, for Orthodoxy as opposed to Romanism on one hand and Protestantism on ths other, and for I Authority as opposed to Anfttcb^ ^wj^-tiiuja/vy^ ' In him all the irreligious forces of modern Nihilism, as well as the theological quacks, with their sham remedies for the ills of the soul, have long recognised the supreme embodiment of all the principles against which they wage unceasing war. It is not his habit to descend into the arena. For the most part of his long and remarkable career he has been a silent witness, working, not talking, serving his Emperor and his country in th^ sphere to which he has been called. LAs tutor to our late Emperor he had much to do with implanting in the heart and soul of Alexander III. those profound religious convictions which made him afterwards so famous as the man who, in his private life and in his policy, was domin- ated by an almost fanatical hatred of all lies, and who earned for himself the noble title of the Peace- keeper of Europe by his not less passionate detestation of war. To train a pupil who, on the greatest of Imperial PREFACE vu thrones, should never forget to hate a lie, and to regard as his most coveted ambition to keep the peace — that was the first merit of Mr Pobyedonost seffT) Even the democratic West would not grudge him that laurel, especially to-day when the French Re- public, organised on all the principles of free thought and equality, clings to the Russian alliance as the anchor of all its confidence in the present, and its hopes for the future. But after fulfilling the duty of tutorship to the Grand Duke, who, at the much-lamented death of his beloved brother, became the heir to the throne, Mr Pobyedonos tseff^was called to a post of great difficulty and importance, tha t of Procurator o f the Holy Synod — a post tantamount to that of Cabinet Minister . It is not for me to speak here of the many questions with which he has had to deal during the tenure of his office. I am not writing a history of Russia under Alexander II., Alexander III., and Nicholas II. I only refer to the subject in order to assert, what even his worst enemies will not deny, that during the whole of his life, Mr Pobyedonostsefif has never even been accused of acting on any other than the loftiest political and religious principles. He certainly has carried oul his convictions w jth ^'^^^g^- p^rtinarij-y He is not a man of compromise. He Js^,a-iiiai L Q^ princip le, and he has been true to hisco nyictions. What his convictions are he has plainly stated with characteristic frankness in this volume of reflections upon the subjects which underlie all modern political discussions. That they will be Vlll PREFACE endorsed by readers in England and America, I do not pretend to expect ; on the contrary, I am afraid they will probably produce the effect of a spray of iced water suddenly turned upon molten lead. It is hardly to be expected that English critics will be otherwise than scandalised by the calm declaration of the typical Russian statesman of our time that "the Parliamentary comedy is the supreme political lie which dominates our age." Nevertheless, considering the exceeding liberality with which many Englishmen have showered upon us criticisms of Russian institutions, which, for the most part, have not even been studied or under- stood at all, it is allowable to hope that modern Democracy, carefully investigated by the most scientific Russian authority, should get the same hearing secured to it as in Germany and France. To those who insist upon asserting that the Russian views expressed in this volume belong to the dark Middle Ages, and have nothing in common with the "last word of civilisation," I should like to say, " Strike, but hear." Mr Pobyedo- nostseff, by his deep learning and his lofty character, has secured for himself one of the highest positions in an Empire which even the blindest now begin to see is the dominating power in Europe and Asia. He is not afraid of speaking his mind freely to his Emperor, and he is just as unbiassed in appealing to the masses of his readers. His worst foes cannot deny the perfect frankness and honesty which permeate his book. The opinions of a statesman who, for many years, has held such a position in an Empire like Russia PREFACE IX are surely well worth the attention of the Western nations. / |Mr Pobyedonostseff is the critic in the stalls. ' To him, as to all of us Russians, the parliamentary theatre of the Western world performs a long tragi- comedy, which occasionally ascends to tragedy and sometimes sinks into farce/J We can observe it dispassionately, critically, and sometimes even sym- pathetically. However you may deplore the fact, we are outside of it, and have never shown less disposition than to-day to enrol ourselves in the Democratic troupe. Even Count Leon Tolstoi, who may, perhaps, be regarded as the most extreme and privileged critic in Russia, treats Constitutionalism with the same supercilious contempt as all the other forms of government. We have no parliamentary party in Russia. No one, even in the abstract, as a matter of theory, would wish to inoculate the Muscovite politician with the passion of parliamentary faction ; hence the observations of Mr Pobyedonostseff have an in- dependence and a detachment from things impossible to those who are themselves in the movement, and who have to consider in all they write and speak the effect which their action may have upon their own future relations to the multitude. It is not for me to follow every step of the Pro- curator of the Holy Synod over the wide field which he traverses with such a steady tread. My task is done when, in these few words, I in- troduce his book to the attention of English readers. PREFACE But I cannot resist the temptation of noting especially the prescient words of Mr Pobyedonostseff as to the impossibility of reconciling the pretensions of Nationality and Democ racy. The recent'develop- ments in Austria have signally justified the grave warnings of the Russian publicist, which were written years before the conflict of national passions which has made parliamentary government impossible in the Cis-Leithan State. In conclusion, I may remind those who protest against giving a hearing to an advocate of autocracy, that Her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria, even in the sixty-first year of her reign, has not deemed it expedient, or even possible, to govern more than a mere fraction of her subjects on Democratic principles. The government of three- fourths of the British Empire is as autocratic and as free from the chinoiseries of representative government as the government of Russia itself A/nV 1898. Olga Novikoff. ("0. K.") CONTENTS CHURCH AND STATE THE NEW DEMOCRACY THE GREAT FALSEHOOD OF OUR TIME TRIAL BY JURY THE PRESS PUBLIC INSTRUCTION THE LAW THE MALADY OF OUR TIME KNOWLEDGE AND WORK FAITH THE IDEALS OF UNBELIEF THE NEW RELIGION AND THE NEW MARRIAGE THE SPIRITUAL LIFE THE CHURCH CHARACTERS POWER AND AUTHORITY PAGE I 26 32 59 62 75 . 85 90 . 134 • 137 • 157 172 184 • 195 223 • 253 XI CHURCH AND STATE !? (The conflict between religious and political prin- ciples is one of the most remarkable phenomena of our time. When discord once appears in the sphere of religious and spiritual principles it is impossible to predict by what limits it will be confined, what elements it will involve, and whither will flow the stream of passions aroused by the clash of convic- tions and beliefs. Where the religious convictions of a people are concerned, it is essential that the State shall establish its demands and regulations with especial caution to avoid such collision with their sentiments and spiritual necessities as would be resented by the masses. For, however powerful the State may be, its power is based alone upon identity of religious profession with the people ; the faith of the people sustains it; when dis- cord once appears to weaken this identity, its foundations are sapped, its power dissolves away. In spiritual sympathy with its rulers a people may bear many heavy burdens, may concede much, and surrender many of its privileges and rights. In one domain alone the State must not demand conces- sion, or the people concede, and that is the domain where every believer, and all together, sink the foun- dations of their spiritual existence and bind them- REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN Ijl selves with eternity. There are depths in this domain to which the secular power dare not, and must not, descend, lest it strike at the roots of faith in each and all. The prime cause of the misunderstandings which now exist, and which threaten to increase, between the people and its rulers is the artificial theory, \ popularly held, of the relations of Church to State. In the course of events in Western Europe — events indissolubly bound up with the development of the Roman Catholic Church — there originated and took root, as an element in political construction, the idea of the Church as a religious and political institution, with a power which, in opposition to the State, carried on with it a political conflict, the incidents of which crowd the pages of history in Western Europe. This conception of the political mission of the Church has driven into the background its simple, true, and natural conception as a congrega- tion of Christians organically bound by identity of faith in divine alliance. Yet this innate conception lies concealed in the depths of the popular conscience, corresponding with the essential aspiration of the human soul — the aspiration to faith and identity of faith with others. In this sense the Church, as a community of believers, cannot and must not detach itself from the State, as a society united by a civil bond. Whate ve r per fection theories based on the Reparation aj Church and State aiay attain m the minds of logkians, they do not. satisfy., the simple_§g)r\tiaients of the mass of believers. They may indeed content the political mind which sees in them the best of all possible compromises, and CHURCH AND STATE a perfect construction of philosophic ideas; but in the depths of the soul which /eels the livmg necessity of faith, and of unity o faith with life, these artificial theories are irreconcilable with truth. The spiritual life needs and seeks above all things spiritual unity; to this it aspires as the ^^eal of its existence, but when this ideal is realised in dua ity, it scorns to accept it and turns away. By its nature faith is uncompromising, and tolerates no accommo- dations in its ideals. It is true that the actual life of all and each of us is an uninterrupted history of failure and duality, a melancholy discord between thought and work, between faith and life ; but in this ceaseless struggle the human soul is sustained by nothing so much as by faith in an ideal ultimate unity a faith which it cherishes as the strongest sanctuary of existence. Reduce a believer to the recognition of this duality, he will be humiliated. Reveal to him that end of all duality to which his soul aspires,-.he lifts his head, he feels his life renewed, and marches onward armed with faith. Tell him that life and faith are independent of one another, and his soul rejects the thought with the abhorrence with which it would reject the thought of ultimate annihilation It may be objected that this is a question of personal belief But the faith of individuals can in no way be distinguished from the faith of the Church, for its essential need is community, and of this need it finds satisfaction only in the Church. 1 C4. 4. • The struggle between Church and btate in Western Europe has now endured for many years. The last word in this struggle has not yet been /I REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN spoken, and what that word will be is still un- known. Each party still measures its strength and assembles its forces around it. The State relies upon the forces of intelligence; the Church relies upon the faith of the people, and upon the recog- nition of its spiritual authority. There can be no doubt that in the end the victory will belong to that party which displays the most perfect unity in a living and spiritual faith. The intelligence of the partisans of the State is in any case con- fronted with a delicate task, the task of alluring to its side and binding with it in firm alliance the popular faith. But, to gain the sympathy and alliance of faith, intelligence alone is vain. The State must show in itself a living faith. Si vis me flere dolendum est primum ipsi tibi. The popular mind is suspicious, and may not be seduced by appearances of faith, or drawn by compromise ; for the living faith accepts no compromise, and rejects the authority of rational logic. Though "faith" is vulgarly considered as identical with "conviction," the conviction of reason must not be confounded with the conviction of faith; and the forces of intellect are sadly mistaken if they assume in themselves the necessary elements of spiritual force, independently of faith which is their very essence. This confusion of ideas is a great danger to the State in its struggle with the Church. When, at the time of the Reformation in Germany, the State set itself at the head of the movement against the old ecclesiastical power, and built a new organisation for the Church, it possessed % i CHURCH AND STATE ' i actually the spiritual force of faith. The movement which it led had its origin among the people ; it was animated by the deepest and strongest faith ; its first leaders represented the highest intelligence of the community, and glowed with the fire of a sincere faith uniting them with the people. Thus in this movement were concentrated immense spiritual forces, which, after many years of struggle, compelled the surrender of the ancient faith. To-day conditions differ altogether. From the side of the State discord has arisen between the religion of the people and the political organisation of the Church. From the other quarter of intelli- gence has sprung a still more striking disunion between religion and its scientific construction. Theological science — no longer restricted to its original function of studying and comprehending religious beliefs — threatens to absorb all belief by submitting it as a phenomenon and external object of investigation to the unsparing critical analysis of reason. Political science has established a care- fully elaborated doctrine of the definite severance of Church from State, in consequence of which, by the operation of a law admitting no division of supreme power, the Church inevitably appears as an institution subordinate to the State. Together with this, the State appears, according to the new conception, as an institution det^hed from every religion and indifferent to all. \Jjt is natural that, from this point of view, the Church appears merely as an institution satisfying one of the needs of the population recognised by the State— namely, the need of religion; and the modern State, while REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN CHURCH AND STATE exercising over this institution control and super- vision, in no way troubles about religion itself. For the State, as the supreme political institution, such a theory is attractive : it assures it complete autonomy, the elimination of opposition, and the simplification of all the operations of its ecclesiastical policy. But such assurances are delusive] for this theory, evolved in the studies of ministers and scholars, the con- science of the people will not accept. In all that relates to religion the masses demand simplicity and completeness, which satisfy their minds, and they reject all artificial ideas, instinctively discerning their diversity from truth. Political theorists will accept the retention of their ofifices by priests and professors who — as unhappily often occurs in Germany — publicly declare their disbelief in the divinity of our Saviour. The conscience of the people will never accept such an interpretation of the priestly of!ice, but will reject it with abhorrence as a falsehood. Unhappy and hopeless is the position of the ruling power when in its dispositions in matters of religion the masses everywhere detect falsehood and infidelity. II The separation of Church and State was treated remarkably by the ex-priest Hyacinthe in his public lectures delivered in Geneva, in the spring of 1863 War to the knife with the Church— this is the fancy of the revolutionary party, or, at least, of its ex- treme representatives, who in politics call themselves facobins, and in the domain of religious ideas pro- tii^materialism and infidelity. These men are armed with two weapons, sophistry and violence. They have long lost the confidence of men ; they are blind ; they lack the strength to continue the struggle, because they confound all among their adversaries, distinguish nothing, and exaggerate be- yond measure their importance. The aim of the French Rev olution was to re- generate society, but regeneration could only sue ceed through the application to civil society of Christian principles. A struggle began between the Revolution and the Roman theocracy, for the Revolution confounded this theocracy with the Catholic Church, the universe which surrounds all believing Christians, the Evangel itself, and the person of Christ Thus war- was declared, not only with Rome, but wit h_the kingdom of Christ o n earth. In the heart'd^hristendom these men ^gan to persecute the very religious feeling which, for nigh Two thousand years, had been inseparably associated with Christianity. Such was the adversary they challenged to battle, arming themselves with two weapons-base and dishonoured both^the axe of the headsman and the living word of the sophist Thanks to the Abb6 freethinkers who thronged the court, thanks to the admitted levity of con- temporary morals, Catholicism in France was in an evil state. Suddenly, it was summoned, awakened, and dragged to prison. In its name ascended the scaffold priests, young girls, and peasants, side by side with distinguished nobles, with poets, and with statesmen, as in the epoch of the early Caesars. 8 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN CHURCH AND STATE if! Till then its robes had been stained by the blood of St Bartholomew's night, and traces of parents' and orphans' tears caused by the revocation of the Edict of Nantes : yet all these traces were suddenly effaced, nothing was seen save the blood from its own veins, the traces of its own tears. From this the Church soon arose again to a great and stainless glory. For this glory her executioners had prepared her. Thus acted the sophist-philosophers also. They opened questions which modern science declares in- soluble ; they unveiled the secrets of death, seeing in it only fantasy and delusion ; they strove to pierce to the origin of humanity, and instead of the Adam of our Bibles, called to its cradle some unknown being, slowly developed from animal life, an ape at first, and then a man. Having placed this man both as to his origin and as to his end in an animal medium, having degraded him to the limits of cor- ruption, they changed their tone and began to glorify his greatness : " How great art thou, man ! " they cried. "How great art thou in thy atheism and in thy materialism, and in thy freedom, submitting to nothing in morals ! " But in the glory of this strange greatness man seemed crushed with grief He had forsaken God, but he kept the need of religion. So imperious is this need that religion may exist even without God — such is Buddhism, a religion numbering its millions of adherents. But what if it were true that man first sprang from an animal matter? this in no way changes the case of faith. In the Book of Genesis man was made from a material baser still — mud and dust, a handful of earth. It is not the envelope that makes the man. He took from his i Creator a living soul, a breath of religious and moral life, of which, whatever he may wish, he cannot be rid. And this forbids him ever to cut himself loose from the Christian religion. The Church must be separated from the State, we are told. These are only words, expressing no distinct idea, for the word separation may express many things. We must first understand in what the separation consists. If it consist in the clearer delimitation of religious and secular society — a sincere and permanent delimitation effected without craft or violence — all men will approve of such separa- tion. If, from a practical standpoint, it is demanded that the State shall abdicate its right of appointing the ministers of the Church, and shall repudiate its responsibility for their maintenance, the concession of this demand would establish a most desirable, an ideal state of affairs, for which it is necessary to prepare under favourable circumstances and in legal form. When this question matures, the State, if it wishes so to decide it, is bound to restore to the proper parties the right to elect priests and bishops ; in such case, it will be impossible to surrender to the Pope that which belongs to the clergy and to the people by historical and apostolic right. The State is merely depository of this right, which in no way belongs to it We are told that this separation is to be under- stood in the widest sense. Able and learned men define it thus : the State has no concern wijh _the Ch urch, or the Church with the Stat e. Thus humanity is to revolve in two great circles. In one circle will be the body, in the other the soul ; and \ / tl' Q /REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN I between these circles will be a void as between heaven and earth. But Jthis is impossibl e. The body cannot separate itself from its soul — soul and body live a single life. J Can we expect that the Church — I do not speak of the Catholic Church in particular, but of the universal Church — will consent to abdicate its interest in civil society, in family society, human society — all, in short, that is understood by the State ? Since when has it been supposed that the function of the Church is to train ascetics, to people monasteries, to display in temples the poetry of its ceremonies and processions ? No ; these are but a little part of the duties entrusted to the Church. To it was appointed another mission : to teach all peoples. That is its work. Its duty is to train the peoples of the earth that from the midst of the earthly city and earthly family they may be not altogether unworthy to step into the heavenly city and the heavenly communion. At birth, at marriage, at death, in the supreme moments of human existence, the Church appears with its three solemn sacraments. And yet we are told that the Church has no concern with family life! Its duty is to inspire the people with respect for the law and for power, and to inspire in power respect for human freedom. Yet we are told that the Church has no concern with society. No ; the moral principle is indivisible. It cannot be apportioned to provide one system of morals for individuals, another for society — one for the body, another for the soul. In a single moral principle are embraced all the relations of life — personal, domestic, and political ; and no church which retains CHURCH AND STATE II the consciousness of its own worthiness will ever surrender its lawful influence on the family or on civil society. To demand that the Church shall abstain from intervention in civil affairs is scarcely to give it new strength. , The State, we are told, has no concern with the Church. Civil society was first established on the basis of the primitive family, every head of a family being a citizen : in that age the society of believers was indistinguishable from the family or from the entire people. In the course of time the structure of civil society was perfected, and an universal Christianity arose, embracing both families and people. How can we justly say to the father and the citizen : You and the Church are independent of one another? Unhappily both father and citizen have long ago said this to themselves. The father has grown indifferent to the tendencies and senti- ments of religion in his family circle. He can find no answer when his wife turns to him with her doubts ; when his child with childish simplicity asks, " Who is this God ? And why dost thou not pray to him? And what is this death that comes and bears children away?" If the father answers nothing to these questions, what answer will the child devise? And if the father finds an answer the child hears in it a fable, and not the voice of the living faith. The consequence is that children become sceptical as their fathers, or superstitious as their mothers and their confessors. Thus operates the separation of the Church and State in the family circle. In the place of the father is introduced into the house a strange priest, in the capacity of a ^ i 't li IP 12 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN CHURCH AND STATE spiritual guide, and the guardian of consciences, under aspect of a teacher. For this the priests with- out doubt are to be blamed ; but still more guilty are the parents, for permitting the priest to take their places at the domestic hearth. With these conditions, the citizens and the civil power must not be surprised if the edifice they have erected tumbles, and crushes them with its ruins. Such is the conse- quence of the separation of Church and State. Ill When, early in the forties, the king of Prussia learnt that some of the citizens of Berlin had forsaken the Christian Church, he expressed sur- prise, and asked with a smile : " What church, then, they were about to join?" In the west of Europe, this question would be meaningless, nowadays. Half'- a-century ago it was believed that he who aban- doned Christianity had left the firm ground to live suspended in space. But, nowadays, to be without religion is a symptom of steadfastness, not of levity. In the Middle Ages an unbeliever was regarded as a madman ; a madman at the same time so re- pulsive and dangerous that he was delivered to the stake. At that time there was no place for unbelieving citizens, but there were believers deprived of the right of citizenship, vagabonds and outlaws to whom the State refused the protection of the law, and who sought the protection of their feudal lords, those mighty vassals who repudiated the authority a of the State, and might even enter upon conflict with their suzerains. In our time a subject who declared himself in- dependent of the State, who refused to pay taxes, to render military service, and to recognise authority, in short, to be his own government, would, as un- believers in the Middle Ages, be declared insane ; but, instead of being burnt at the stake, would either be forced to submit to the lawful authorities or be expelled his country. He might be trans- ported to other territories, where also he would be reduced to submission or expelled. _..._,^ At the present day we may freely reject religion / and the Church, but we must not deny the State. The State guarantees the enjoyment of social life in all its plenitude, while the Church no longer rules over social life as it ruled before. Our time is distinguished by an attempt to subject all human relations to the power of the State. If the Church were to pretend to dominion over even half of them, it would meet from all sides with obstacles and opposition. Notwithstanding the liberty everywhere extolled, we tend in all things to fall under the power of the State. We establish laws and regulations for every important condition of our social life ; many formally demand complete centralisation, and the assimila- tion of individual conditions by legislative measures. If but a shoe pinches we demand regulation by the State ; if half-a-dozen individuals complain of a burden, they must seek redress in a petition to the Government. In former times they would have sought redress in the Church. The doctrine that -A * ; REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN CHURCH AND STATE 15 all individual life must be absorbed in the life of the community, and that the life of the community must be concentrated in the State, and regulated by it, is the chief motive of the Socialist ideal; and as this doctrine in a distinct or indistinct form has taken root in the strongest minds, the simplest man is often unconsciously in sympathy with the Socialist. It is impossible to ignore that a change has taken place in the relationship of the Church to the com- munity of believers which sustains it. The people will no longer admit of the re-establishment of the old relationship of the Church to its flock with its interference in individual and domestic life, in the life of the community, in politics, and in the economy of society. The State establishes law after law; the Church not only no longer promulgates no new dogmas, but cannot as before insist formally and rigorously upon the interpretation and application ofil;3 teachings. fin appearance, therefore, the Church has lost all authority, as contrasted with the disproportionate powers usurped by the State. In reality, however, this is not so, for the Church relies on the spiritual forces of the people {Riehl). IV The oldest and most familiar system of relation- ship of Church to State is the system of Established or State Churches. Out of the multitude of religions, the State adopts and recognises as the true faith one, which it maintains and protects exclusively, to the prejudice of all remaining Churches and religions. This prejudice in general means that the remaining Churches are not recognised as true, or entirely true, but practically it is expressed in many forms, with innumerable shadows, from non-recognition and alienation to persecution. In all cases where this system is in force the estranged faiths submit to more or less diminution in honour and prerogative as compared with the established faith. The State must not be the representative of the material in- terests of society alone ; were it so, it would deprive itself of religious forces and would abandon its spiritual community with the people. The stronger will the State be, the more important in the eyes of the masses, the more firmly it stands as their spiritual representative. Under these conditions alone will the sentiment of respect for the law, and of confidence in the power of the State, be maintained and strengthened among the people. No considerations for the safety of the State, for its prosperity and advantage, no moral principle even, is itself sufficient to strengthen the bonds between the people and its rulers; for the moral principle is never steadfast, and it loses its fundamental base when it is bereft of the sanction of religion. This force of cohesion will, without doubt, be lost to that State which, in the name of impartial relationship to every religious belief, cuts itself loose from all. The confidence of the people in its rulers is founded on faith— that is, not only on identity of religious profession, but on the simple conviction that its rulers have faith them- i6 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN i^. selves and rule according to it Even the heathen and Mahometan peoples have more confidence and respect for a Government which stands on the firm principles of faith — whatever that faith may be — than for a Government which acknowledges no faith, and is indifferent to all. Such is the indisputable superiority of the Estab- lished Church. Nevertheless, in the course of centuries the circumstances in which this system established itself have changed, and new conditions have arisen which combine to make its operation more difficult than before. When the first founda- tions of European civilisation and politics were laid, the Christian State was strong by its whole and indissoluble alliance with the united Christian Church. Since then the Christian Church has broken up into innumerable sects and religions, each of which pretends to be the only true doctrine and the only true Church. By such means the State was confronted with many different doctrines, which divided the support of the people. With the destruction of universal communion in a single faith, the time must come when the dominant Church supported by the State becomes the Church of an insignificant minority, and loses sympathy with, or is deprived of the sympathy of, the mass of the people. When this condition has once been realised, grave troubles inevitably arise in the defini- tion of the relationship of the State and its Estab- lished Church to the Churches to which the majority of the people belongs. CHURCH AND STATE 17 / At the end of the eighteenth century there began in Western Europe a change from the ancient system to the system of equalisation of Christian beliefs before the State, with the exception, however, from \ this equality of sectarians and Jews. The State accepted Christianity as the essential base of its being and of social order, and adherence to one or another of the Churches or religions became obligatory for every citizen. Since 1848 this relation of the State and Church has essentially changed ; the rising waves of Liberal- ism have overthrown the ancient rampart, and threaten to undermine the foundations of the Christian State. The separation of Church and State is advocated everywhere ; the State has no concern with the Church — all men are free to believe what they will, or not to believe at all. The fundamental principles {Grundrechte) pro- mulgated by the Frankfort Parliament in 1848-9, are the embodiment of this doctrine, and, although they soon ceased to be operative legislation served and serve to-day as the ideal for the establishment of Liberal principles in the legislation of Western Europe in modern times. Political and civil rights no longer depend upon religion, or even upon adherence to one or another of the Churches or sects. Concerning religion the State asks no questions. The solemnisation of marriage, and other acts of the civil condition, no longer appertain to the Church. The full freedom of B ** I« REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN \ i mixed marriages is proclaimed, and the religious prin- ciple of the indissolubility of marriage is destroyed by facility of divorce, removed from the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical courts. In view of all these changes, which in France have gone so far as the official renunciation of faith, and even so far as violence against the Church, we may well ask: Can the modern State be called a Christian State ? But here we observe the inconsistency which we have noticed in indi- viduals who, having severed their organic alliance with the Christian Church, at the same time lead a life in accordance with its principles. The modern State, while severing its organic alliance with the Christian Church, cannot dispense with the forms and ceremonies which it practises. The Churches and their ministers are maintained out of the treasury of the State; the army and all public institutions are provided with spiritual directors; the Christian festivals are civil holidays: in the public service, in the courts of justice, the oath retains its obligatory force. In Germany there is no State Church, nevertheless, the supre- macy (Kirchenhoheit) in the Evangelical Church appertains to the chief of the State; in Pariia- ment, and in all social affairs the government may not ignore the parties with their different religious professions. In England with its absolute equality of all religions on Liberal principles, not only the sovereign but the greatest dignitaries of State must belong to the Anglican Church. In the United States also perfect religious equality obtains. To all Churches, to all religious communities, the relations \ I CHURCH AND STATE 19 y / of the State are identical with its relations to private corporations. In the State schools the study of the Law of God, and the obligatory reading of the Scriptures are forbidden. Yet Congress opens its sessions with prayer, with the participation of an ecclesiastic. The State maintains ministers of religion in the army and on the fleet. From time to time the President appoints days for thanks- giving and repentance. A stern law upholds the sanctity of the Sabbath. In certain States the severest punishments are ordained for swearing and blasphemy. ^ " ^ oes it not follow then that the atheist State I is no more than an impossible Utopia, infidelity / being negation of the State? Religion and, above all, Christianity is the source of every right in political and civil life, and of all true culture. It is for this reason, then, that those political parties the most inimical to social order, parties radically denying J the State, are the first to declare that religion is \ a personal thing in which private and individual I interests alone are concerned. VI The system of a " Free Church in a Free State " is founded on abstract principles and hypotheses. It embodies not the principle of belief, but the principle of religious indifferentism, and it is associated with doctrines which inculcate, not toler- ance and respect, but a manifest or tacit contempt for religion, as an outworn factor of the psychical / / f^ REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN H 1! lii ;l development of individual and national life. In the abstract conception of this system, which is the product of the latest rationalism, the Church appears as a political institution of abstract construction, with a definite aim ; or as a private corporation established likewise with a definite aim, as other corporations recognised by the State. The conception of this aim is abstract also, for on it are reflected the diverse shades associated with one or the other conception of religion, from abstract respect for religion, as the highest element of psychical life, to fanatical con- tempt for it as the basest factor, and as an element of danger and disintegration. Thus, in the construe- tion of this system we see at the first glance the ambiguity and indistinctness of its fundamental principles and propositions. What the consequence of this system in practice will be must be proved by the experience of ages and generations. Hitherto our experience has been insignificant compared with the experience of the many centuries through which the ancient system acted and acts. But it i^s^asy to foresee Ihat til& ^Z. syst.^'^...cannpi be, .durable^ does naU correspond with the essential needs and conditions of ^^^3, nature. ' ^'ITowever logically we' may affirm^ the proposition, that " all Churches and all religions are equal, and all the same," this proposition will not be admitted unreservedly by a single man who preserves religion in his soul, and feels the need of it. Such a man will answer, " Yes, all faiths are equal; but for me mine is best." Were the State to establish to-day the severest and most precise equalisation of all Churches and religions before the ■■55. I CHURCH AND STATE 21 i 4 law, to-morrow signs would appear that the relative powers of the various religions were no longer equal ; in thirty or fifty years from the time of legal equalisation, we should find that one enjoyed a preponderating influence, dominated minds, and determined judgments ; and this, either because it approximated more closely to canonical truth, or because its doctrine and ritual corresponded better to the character of the people, or because its organisation and discipline were more perfect and increased its opportunities for systematic activity, or because it counted more devoted adherents and workers. Of this there are many instances. In Ireland British legislation has established equality of the rival Churches. But it does not, therefore, result that the Churches are equal. In reality, the Roman Catholic Church, at the moment of its legal enfran- chisement, received full power to extend and con- solidate throughout the country its predominant influence, not only on individual minds, but on all the political institutions of the country — on the courts of justice, the administration, and the schools. The constitution of the United States requires the non-interference of the State in religion. The consequence is that the Roman Catholic is rapidly becoming the dominant Church in America. In North America it enjoys a greater liberty of action than in any European state. Restricted by no relation to the State, submitting to no control, the Pope distributes dioceses, appoints bishops, founds spiritual orders and convents in vast numbers, and weaves over the whole territory a close network of ecclesiastical agents and institutions. The Papacy REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN CHURCH AND STATE 21 I i . V' \ development of individual and national life. In the abstract conception of this system, which is the product of the latest rationalism, the Church appears as a political institution of abstract construction, with a definite aim ; or as a private corporation established likewise with a definite aim, as other corporations recognised by the State. The conception of this aim is abstract also, for on it are reflected the diverse shades associated with one or the other conception of religion, from abstract respect for religion, as the highest element of psychical life, to fanatical con- tempt for it as the basest factor, and as an element of danger and disintegration. Thus, in the construc- tion of this system we see at the first glance the ambiguity and indistinctness of its fundamental principles and propositions. What the consequence of this system in practice will be must be proved by the experience of ages and generations. Hitherto our experience has been insignificant compared with the experience of the many centuries through which the ancient system acted and acts. But it is easy to foresee that the. new systeni cannot,, be durable, _ for it^^does naU correspond with the essential jieeds and conditions of_ ^""^^" nature. ' 'ffowevef 'TogH^^^ affirm^ The proposition, that "all Churches and all religions are equal, and all the same," this proposition will not be admitted unreservedly by a single man who preserves religion in his soul, and feels the need of it. Such a man will answer, " Yes, all faiths are equal; but for me mine is best." Were the State to establish to-day the severest and most precise equalisation of all Churches and religions before the law, to-morrow signs would appear that the relative powers of the various religions were no longer equal ; in thirty or fifty years from the time of legal equalisation, we should find that one enjoyed a preponderating influence, dominated minds, and determined judgments ; and this, either because it approximated more closely to canonical truth, or because its doctrine and ritual corresponded better to the character of the people, or because its organisation and discipline were more perfect and increased its opportunities for systematic activity, or because it counted more devoted adherents and workers. Of this there are many instances. In Ireland British legislation has established equality of the rival Churches. But it does not, therefore, result that the Churches are equal. In reality, the Roman Catholic Church, at the moment of its legal enfran- chisement, received full power to extend and con- solidate throughout the country its predominant influence, not only on individual minds, but on all the political institutions of the country — on the courts of justice, the administration, and the schools. The constitution of the United States requires the non-interference of the State in religion. The consequence is that the Roman Catholic is rapidly becoming the dominant Church in America. In North America it enjoys a greater liberty of action than in any European state. Restricted by no relation to the State, submitting to no control, the Pope distributes dioceses, appoints bishops, founds spiritual orders and convents in vast numbers, and weaves over the whole territory a close network of ecclesiastical agents and institutions. The Papacy 22 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN controls the great mass of Catholics, yearly increasing with the arrival of fresh immigrants, and counts already as its own a fourth of the total population, while the remaining three quarters is divided into a multitude of sects. Taking advantage of all opportunities to evade the law, the Catholic Chu rch has increased_jts- -power^ te- immense proportions. The administration of whole states is in its hand or under its influence. In many large towns the municipal government depends exclusively from the Catholics. The Catholic Church disposes of millions of votes in a country where from numbers alone depends the whole administration of domestic and foreign affairs. From the height of the principle of religious equality, the State regards its dominion with indifference. But the future will show how long this favourite theory will obtain in the United States. Meanwhile, its defenders ask what concern has the State with inequalities which arise, not by virtue of privileges or legal limitations, but in consequence of the internal strength or internal weakness of private corporations ? The law cannot prevent such inequality. But this is an evasion of the question, or a solution only in theory. On paper any absurdity may be justified, and raised to the dignity of a harmonious system. On paper it is easy to establish a clear boundary between the domain of politics and the domain of religion and morals. In reality, it is not so. Men must not be regarded as intelligent machines to be disposed as the general disposes his troops when he forms a line of battle. Evqry man embodies a world of moral and spiritual life, CHURCH AND STATE 23 from which proceed the impulses which determine his activity in all the spheres of life ; but the chief, the central impulse springs from faith and from the conviction of truth. The theorist only, reason- ing independently of actuality, or ignoring it, will be satisfied by the ironical question : What is truth ? In the souls of men this question lives as the gravest question of life ; a question, requiring not a negative, but a positive answer. /Thus the free State may decree that the free Church concerns it not; but the free Church, if it be truly founded on faith, will not accept this pro- position, and will not endure indifferent relations to the free Stately The Church cannot abdicate its influence on civil and social life, and the greater its activity — the stronger its consciousness of internal working forces, the less is it possible for it to tolerate indifferent relations to the State ; nor can such rela- tions be tolerated if the Church is not to abjure its duties and abandon its divine mission. On the Church lies the duty of teaching and direction. To the Church pertains the administration of the sacra- ments, and the performance of ceremonies associated with the gravest acts of civil life. In this activity the Church of necessity is brought into constant contact with public and civil life : of this, marriage and education are sufficient instances. Thus, as the State, denying the Church, assumes control exclusively of the civil part of such affairs and re- nounces all authority in the spiritual-religious part, the Church assumes the functions surrendered by the State, and, in separation from it, takes possession, little by little but fully and exclusively, of those 24 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN moral and religious influences which constitute for the State an indispensable element of strength. The State remains master alone of material and, it may be, of intellectual forces, but both one and the other are vain when unsupported by the forces of faith. Little by little, therefore, instead of the imagined equality of influence of the State and Church in a political alliance, inequality and an- tagonism appear. The position in any case is an abnormal one, which must lead either to the pre- dominance of the Church over the apparently dominant State, or to revolution. Such are the hidden dangers of the system, so lauded by Liberal theorists, of severance of Church and State. The system of State or Established Churches h^s many defects, many inconven- iences, and many difficulties ; it does not preclude the possibility of antagonism or conflict. But it is absurd to suppose that it has outlived its time,^ and that the formula of Cavour is the only key to the solution of all the difficulties of the most difficult of questions. The formula of Cavour is the fruit of that political doctrinarianism which regards all questions of faith merely as political questions of the equalisation of rights. It lacks spiritual insight, as lacked it another famous political formula, Liberty, Equality, and PVaternity, which to the present day weighs upon superficial minds with a fatal burden. In both cases the passionate apostles of freedom mistake in assuming freedom in equality. Bitter experience has proven a hundred times that freedom does not depend from equality, and that equality is in no wise freedom. It is \ CHURCH AND STATE «5 equally absurd to believe that the equalisation of Churches and religions before the State must result in freedom of belief. The history of modern times demonstrates that freedom and equality are not identical, and that freedom in no way depends from equality. ifi a /. ■oui n 4r fi* f. A-^ ' > •• / ^ m a t^^ K THE NEW DEMOCRACY What is this freedom by which so many minds are agitated, which inspires so many insensate actions, so many wild speeches, which leads the people so often to misfortune ? J^ the democratic sense of the word, freedom is the right of political power, or, to express it otherwise, the right to participate in the government of the StateJJ This universal aspiration for a share in government has no constant limitations, and seeks no definite issue, but incessantly extends, so that we might apply to it the words of the ancient poet about dropsy : cresdt indulgens sibu For ever extending its base, (JHe new Democracy now aspires to universal suffrage — a fatal error, and one of the most remarkable in the history of man- kind. By this means, the political power so passion- ately demanded by Democracy would be shattered into a number of infinitesimal bits, of which each citizen acquires a single onej What will he do with it, then? how will he employ it? In the result it has undoubtedly been shown that in the attainment of this aim Democracy violates its sacred formula of " Freedom indissolubly joined with Equality." TTt is shown that this apparently equal distribution of "freedom" among all involves the total destruction of equality Each vote, representing an inconsider- able^fragment of power, by itself signifies nothing ; 26 THE NEW DEMOCRACY 27 an aggregation of votes alone has a relative value. The result may be likened to the general meetings of shareholders in public companies. By themselves in- dividuals are ineffective, but he who controls a number of these fragmentary forces is master of all power, and directs all decisions and dispositions. We may well ask in what consists the superiority of Demo- cracy. Everywhere the strongest man becomes master of the State; sometimes a fortunate and resolute general, sometimes a monarch or administrator with knowledge, dexterity, a clear plan of action, and a determined will. Op ^ Democracy, the real rulers are the dexterous manipulators of votes, with their place- men, the mechanics who so skilfully operate the hidden springs which move the puppets in the arena of democratic elections?) Men of this kind are ever ready with loud speeches lauding equality ; in reality, they rule the people as any despot or military dictator might rule it. The extension of the right to participate in elections is regarded as progress and as the conquest of freedom by democratic theorists, who hold that the more numerous the participants in political rights, the greater is the probability that all will employ this right in the interests of the public welfare, and for the increase of the freedom of the people. Experience proves a very different thing. The history of mankind bears witness that the most necessary and fruitful reforms— the most durable measures— emanated from the supreme will of states- men, or from a minority enlightened by lofty ideas and deep knowledge, and that, on the contrary, the extension of the representative principle is accom- m 28 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN THE NEW DEMOCRACY 29 panied by an abasement of political ideas and the vulgarisation of opinions in the mass of the electors. It shows also that this extension— in great States- was inspired by secret aims to the centralisation of power, or led directly to dictatorship. In France, universal suffrage was suppressed with the end of the Terror, and was re-established twice merely to affirm the autocracy of the two Napoleons. In Germany, the establishment of universal suffrage served merely to strengthen the high authority of a famous statesman who had acquired popularity by the success of his policy. What its ultimate con- sequences will be, Heaven only knows! The manipulation of votes in the game of Democracy is of the commonest occurrence in most European states, and its falsehood, it would seem, has been exposed to all; yet few dare openly to rebel against it. The unhappy people must bear the burden, while the Press, herald of a supposititious public opinion, stifles the cry of the people with its shibboleth, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians." But to an impartial mind, all this is nothing better than a struggle of parties, and a shuffling with numbers and names. The voters, by themselves inconsiderable unities, acquire a value in the hands of dexterous agents. This value is realised by many means — mainly, by^ bribery in innumer- able foi7ns,_from _gifts of jnoney an^^ — trifling ^articl^ to t he dist ribution^^ places in tHe services, diefinancisT departments, and the administration. CXIttle ^Bjritftle a chi^of electors has been formed which lives by the sale of votes to one or another of the political organisations.'7So far has this gone in France, for instance, that serious, intelligent, and industrious citizens in immense numbers abstain from voting, through the difficulty of contending with the cliques of political agents. With bribery go violence and threats, and reigns of terror are organised at elections, by the help of which the respective cliques advance their candidates ; hence the stormy scenes at electoral demonstrations, in which arms have been used, and the field of battle strewn with the bodies of the killed and wounded. Organisation and bribery — these are the two mighty instruments which are employed with such success for the manipulation of the mass of electors. Such methods are in no way new. Thucydides depicts in vivid colours their employment in the ancient republics of Greece. The history of the Roman Republic presents monstrous examples of corruption as the chief instrument of factions at elections. But in our times a new means has been found of working the masses for political aims, and joining them in adventitious alliances by provoking a fictitious community of views. This is the art of rapid and dexterous generalisation of ideas, the composition of phrase and formulas, disseminated with the confidence of burning conviction as the last word of science, as dogmas of politicology, as infallible appreciations of events, of men, and of institutions. At one time it was believed that the faculty of analysing facts, and deducing general principles was the privilege of a few enlightened minds and deep thinkers ; now it is considered an 30 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN THE NEW DEMOCRACY 31 universal attainment, and, under the name of con- victions, the generah'ties of political science have be- come a sort of current money, coined by newspapers and rhetoricians. The faculty of seizing and assimilating on faith these abstract ideas has spread among the mass, and become infectious, more especially to men insuffi- ciently or superficially educated, who constitute the great majority everywhere. This tendency of the people is exploited with success by politicians who seek power ; the art of creating generalities serves for them as a most convenient instrument. All deduction proceeds by the path of abstraction ; from a number of facts the immaterial are elimin- ated, the essential elements collated, classified, and general formulas deduced. It is plain that the justice and value of these formulas depend upon how many of the premisses are essential, and how many of those eliminated are irrelevant. The speed and ease with which abstract conclusions are arrived at are explained by the unceremonious methods observed in this process of selection of relevant facts and in their treatment. Hence the great success of orators, and the extraordinary effect of the abstractions which they cast to the people. The crowd is easily attracted by commonplaces and generalities invested in sonorous phrases ; it cares nothing for proof which is inaccessible to it; thus is formed unanimity of thought, an unanimity fictitious and visionary, but in its consequences actual enough. This is called the "voice of the people," with the pendant, the "voice of God." It is a deplorable error. The ease with which men are drawn by commonplaces leads everywhere to extreme demoralisation of public thought, and to the weakening of the political sense of the people. Of this, France to-day presents a striking example, and England also has not escaped the infection. %^ ^^ ha Ct^-'*. ^■~ A-ilj ^- /C^V^ -'t^-'^^ * «/^' ^^.^ je?^. THE GREAT FALSEHOOD OF OUR TIME 33 ll' I r •w> «!W THE GREAT FALSEHOOD OF OUR TIME I That which is founded on falsehood cannot be right. Institutions founded on false principles can- not be other than false themselves. This truth has been demonstrated by the bitter experience of ages and generations. Among th e falsest of political principles is t he p rinciple of the sovereignty of the peo ple, the principle that all power issues from the people, and is based upon the national will — a principle which has unhappily become more firmly established since the time of the French Revolution. Thence pro- ceeds the theory of Parliamentarism, which, up to the present day, has deluded much of the so-called " intelligence," and unhappily infatuated certain foolish Russians. It continues to maintain its hold on many minds with the obstinacy of a narrow fanatic- , ism, although every day its falsehood is exposed more clearly to the world. tMr'^N7, Jf*'4L% In what does the theory of Parliamentarism con- sist ? It is supposed that rhe^eople in its assemblies makes its own laws, and elects responsible officers to execute its will. Such is the ideal conception. Its immediate realisation is impossible. The historical development of society necessitates that local com- munities increase in numbers and complexity ; 32 i o >' ^ that separate races be assimilated, or, retaining their polities and languages, unite under a single flag, that territory extend indefinitely: under such conditions direct government by the people is im- .i^acv H •,- practicable. The people must, therejbre, delegate its right of*^wer toits _ representa tives, and invest them with admmistra tlv e autonom y. These representatives I n'^urn cannot gover n immediately, but are compelled to electa still smaller^nj^mber of trustworthy per'sons^^^^^mimsters^^to'w^ they entrust the preparation and execution of the laws, the apportionment and collection of taxes, the appoint- ment of subordinate officials, and the disposition of the militant forces. l'- In the abstract this mechanism is quite sym- metrical : for its proper operation many conditions are essential. The working of the political machine is based on impersonal forces constantly acting and completely balanced. It may act successfully only when the delegates of the people abdicate their personalities ; when on the benches of Parliament sit mechanical fulfillers of the people's behests ; when the ministers of State remain impersonal, absolute exe- cutors of the will of the majority ; when the elected representatives of the people are capable of under- standing precisely, and executing conscientiously, the programme of activity, mathematically expressed, which has been delivered to them. Given such con- ditions the machine would work exactly, and would accomplish its purpose. The law would actually embody the will of the people; administrative measures would actually emanate from Parliament; the pillars of the State would rest actually on the C ^1 /« li^' A 2r \' .^' f^ >^' .,^n^- 34 /REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN elective assemblies, and each citizen would directly and consciously participate in the management of public affairs. Suchjsth e theory. Let us look at the practice. venm the classic countries of Parliamentarism it would satisfy not one of the conditions enumerated. The elec tions in no way express the will of the eleclors: Ihe popular representatives areTiTno way Tcblricted by the opinions of their constituents, but are guided by their own views and considerations, modified by the tactics of their opponents. In reality, ministers are autocratic, and they rule, rather than are ruled by. Parliament. They attain power, and lose power, not by virtue of the will of the people, but through immense personal influence, or the in- fluence of a strong party which places them in power, or drives them from it. They dispose of the force and resources of the nation at will, they grant immunities and favours, they maintain a multitude of idlers at the expense of the people, and they fear no censure while they enjoy the support in Parlia- nient of a majority which they maintain by the distribution of bounties from the rich tables which the State has put at their disposal. In reality, the ministers are as irresponsible as the representatives of the people. Mistakes, abuse of power, and arbitrary acts, are of daily occurrence, yet how often do we hear of the grave responsibility of a minister? Tt may be once in fifty years a minister is tried for his crimes, with a result contemptible when compared with the celebrity gained by the solemn procedure. Were we to attempt a true definition of Parliament, we should say that Parliament is an institution serving I . THE GREAT FALSEHOOD OF OUR TIME 35 for the satisfaction of the personal ambition, vanity, and self-interest of its members. The institution of Parliament is indeed one of the greatest illustra- tions of human delusion. Enduring in the course of centuries the tyranny of autocratic and oligar- chical governments, and ignoring that the evils of autocracy are the evils of society itself, men of intellect and knowledge have laid the responsibility for their misfortunes on their rulers and on their systems of government, and imagined that by substituting for these systems government by the will of the people, or representative government, society would be delivered from all the evils and violence which it endured. What is the result ? The result is that, mutato no^nine^ all has remained essentially as before, and men, retaining the weak- ^u **^* nesses and failings of their nature, have transfused in ^ ^ ^i -■V eiH^U' the new institutions their former impulses and tenden-^ cies. As before, they are ruled by personal will, and in the interests of privileged persons, but this personal will is no longer embodied in the person of the sovereign, but in the person of the leader of a party ; and privilege no longer belongs to an aristoc- racy of birth, but to a majority ruling in Parliament and controlling the State. /Oj i the pediment of this edifice is inscribed : " All f for the Public Good." This is no more than a lying formula : Parliamentarism is the triumph of egoism — its highest expressionT] All here is calculated to the .^f^i^^^ service of the ego. In the Parliamentary fiction, the representative, as such, surrenders his personality, and serves as the embodiment of the will and opinions of his constituents ;/m reality, the constituents in the ^r/^ ^(X J-** J 36 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN '%t K .•> u >^P w^- \y i'" ?;- ^t - i,^\^^\ very act of election surrender all their rights in favour of their representative. In his addresses and speeches i^^ the candidate for election lays constant emphasis upon this fiction ; he reiterates his phrases about i^»icU»^fcfc^Dthe public welfare ; he is nothing but a servant of the people ; he will forget himself and his interests for ' lit"' its sake. But these are words, words, words alone — temporary steps of the staircase by which he climbs to the height he aspires to, and which he casts away when he needs them no longer. Then, , %v V so far from beginning to work for society, society becomes the instrument of his aims. To him his constituents are a herd, an aggregation of votes, and he, as their possessor, resembles those rich nomads whose flocks constitute their whole capital — the foundation of their power and eminence in society. Thus is developed to perfection the art of playing on the instincts and passions of the mass, in order to attain the personal ends of ambition and power. The people loses all importance for its representative, until the time arrives when it is to be played upon again ; then false and flattering and lying phrases are lavished as before ; some are suborned by bribery, others terrified by threats — j^(>r the long chain of manoeuvres spun which forms an invariable factor of Parliamentarism. Yet this elec- toral farce continues to deceive humanity, and to be regarded as an institution which crowns the edifice of State. Poor humanity! In truth may it be said : mundus vult decipi^ decipiatur, I^^M^ Thus the representative principle works in practice. T»1 1*j* 1/" «»/*tt ... Ar ,vv^' »*\K e«- The ambitious man comes before his fellow-citizens, and strives by every means to convince them that he THE GREAT FALSEHOOD OF OUR TIME 37 more than any other is worthy of their confidence. What motives impel him to this quest? It is hard to believe that he is impelled by disinterested zeal for the public good. In our time, nothing is so rare as men imbued with a feeling of solidarity with the people, ready A for labour and self-sacrifice for the public good ; this is the ideal nature, but such natures are little inclined to come into contact with the baseness of the world. He who, in the consciousness of duty, is capable of disinterested service of the community does not descend to the soliciting of votes, or the cry- ing of his own praise at election meetings in loud and vulgar phrases. Such men manifest their strength in their own work, in a small circle of congenial C/: friends, and scorn to seek popularity in the noisy - market-place. If they approach the crowd, it is not to flatter it, or to pander to its basest instincts and tendencies, but to condemn its follies and ex- pose its depravity. To men of duty and honour the procedure of elections is repellent ; the only men who regard it without abhorrence are selfish, egoistic natures, which wish thereby to attain their personal ends. To acquire popularity such men have little scruple in assuming the mask of ardour for the public good. They cannot and must not be modest, for with modesty they would not be noticed or spoken of By their positions, and by the parts which they have chosen, they are forced to be hypocrites and liars ; / they must cultivate, fraternise with, and be amiable to their opponents to gain their suffrages ; they must lavish promises, knowing that they cannot fulfil them ; and they must pander to the basest tendencies and prejii- , ; f .t^ ^r'r.- .-n,^^^. K* s* * ''^^i^ :it t-ctj 'i^;vr '(!.#K-' 38 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN dices of the masses to acquire majorities for themselves. What honourable nature would accept such a role? Describe it in a novel, the reader would be repelled, but in elections the same reader gives his vote to the living artiste in the same role. Parliamentary elections are a matter of art, hav- ing, as the military art, their strategy and tactics. The candidate is not brought into direct relations with his constituents. As intermediary stands the committee, a self-constituted institution, the chief weapon of which is impudence. The candi- date, if he is unknown, begins by assembling a number of friends and patrons. Then all together organise a hunt among the rich and weak-minded aristocrats of the neighbourhood, whom they con- vince that it is their duty, their prerogative, and their privilege to stand at the head as leaders of public opinion. There is little difficulty in finding stupid or idle people who are taken in by this trickery ; and then, above their signatures, appear manifestoes in the newspapers and on the walls and pillars, which seduce the mass, eager always in the pursuit of names, titles, and wealth. Thus are formed the committees which direct and control the elections. They resemble in much f public companies. The composition of the committee ^ is carefully elaborated : it contains some effective "^ forces — energetic men who pursue at all costs material ends ; while simple and frivolous idlers con- a stitute the ballast. The committees organise meetings, ^ where speeches are delivered, where he who possesses a powerful voice, and can quickly and skilfully string phrases together, produces always an im- ^'^'^i^ ''k(itiu, ^ THE GREAT FALSEHOOD OF OUR TIME 39 V u v/^A;; pression on the mass, and acquires notoriety — thus ^'^^'^^t^t:^i^^> comes out the candidate for future election, who, with favouring conditions, may even supersede "^«^h>v /,v*;,^. him whom he came to help. Phrases, and nothing but phrases, dominate these meetings. The crowd hears only him who cries the loudest, and who with impudence and with flattery conforms most artfully to the impulses and ten- dencies of the mob. On the day of polling few give their votes in- telligently: these are the individual, influential electors whom it has been worth while to convince in private. The mass of the electors, after the practice of the herd, votes for one of the candidates nominated by the committees. Not one exactly knows the man, or considers his character, his ' capacity, his convictions ; all vote merely be- -va, cause they have heard his name so often. It would be vain to struggle against this herd. If a level-headed elector wished to act intelligently in such a grave affair, and not to give way to the violence of the committee, he would have to ab- stain altogether, or to give his vote for his candidate according to his conviction. However he might act, he could not prevent the election of the candidate favoured by the mass of frivolous, indifferent, and prejudjced electors. /c^*:vy^-/« In theory, the elected candidate must be the favourite of the majority ; in fact, he is the favourite of a minority, sometimes very small, but representing an organised force, while the majority, like sand, has no coherence, and is therefore incapable of resist- ing the clique and the faction. In theory, the election lev." i».*f fi-iU't ,.4k4r ■ ^•- % 42 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN THE GREAT FALSEHOOD OF OVR TIME 43 > / M ^, ;'ll ^•■ V> .V ^ ^ V g it is an alliance of men with common convictions, joining forces for the realisation of their views in legislation and administration. But this descrip- tion applies only to small parties; the large party, which alone is an effective force in Parliament, is formed under the influence only of personal ambition, and centres itself around one commanding person- ality. By nature, men are divided into two classes — those who tolerate no power above them, and therefore of necessity strive to rule others ; and those who by their nature dread the responsibility inseparable from independent action, and who shrink from any resolute exercise of will. These were born for submission, and together constitute a herd, which follows the men of will and resolution, who form the minority. Thus the most talented persons submit willingly, and gladly entrust to stronger hands the control of affairs and the moral responsi- bility for their direction. Instinctively they seek a leader, and become his obedient instruments, inspired by the conviction that he will lead them to victory — and, often, to spoil. Thus all the important actions of Parliament are controlled by the leaders of the party, who inspire all decisions, who lead in combat, and profit by victory. The public ses- sions are no more than a spectacle for the mass. Speeches are delivered to sustain the fiction of Parliamentarism, but seldom a speech by itself affects the decision of Parliament in a grave affair. Speech-making serves for the glory of orators, for the increase of their popularity, and the mak- ing of their careers ; only on rare occasions does it affect the distribution of votes. Majorities V and minorities are usually decided before the session begins. -^uch is the complicated mechanism of the Par- liamentary farce; such is the great political lie which dominates our age. By the theory of Parlia- mentarism, the rational majority must rule ; in practice, the party is ruled by five or six of its leaders who exercise all power. In theory, de- cisions are controlled by clear arguments in the course of Parliamentary debates; in practice, >i\i^y ^^^^^^s^nxh in no wise depend from debates, but are determined by the wills of the leaders and the promptings of personal interest. In theory, the representatives of the people consider only the public welfare; in practice, their first consideration is their own ad- ^^ vancement, and the interests of their friends. In theory, they must be the best citizens ; in practice, they are the most ambitious and impudent. In theory, the elector gives his vote for his candidate because he knows him and trusts him ; in practice, the elector gives his vote for a man whom he seldom knows, but who has been forced on him by the speeches of an interested party. In theory, Parliamentary business is directed by experience, good sense, and unselfishness; in practice, the chief motive powers are a firm will, egoism, and eloquence. / Such is the Parliamentary institution, exalted f^ as the summit and crown of the edifice of State. It is sad to think that even in Russia there are men who aspire to the establishment of this false- hood among us ; that our professors glorify to their young pupils representative government as the ideal i-x^fi ^p**^ 44 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN .9 I! t**'^ 't J ft <•£ f of political science ; that our newspapers pursue it in their articles and feuilletons, under the name of justice and order, without troubling to examine without prejudice the working of the parliamentary machine. Yet even where centuries have sanctified its existence, faith already decays ; the Liberal intelligence exalts it, but the people groans under its despotism, and recognises its falsehood. We may not see, but our children and grandchildren assuredly will see, the overthrow of this idol, which contemporary thought in its vanity continues still to worship. X V .s '\ i.*t' :' 46 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN of Democracy contend that the people may mani- fest its will in affairs of State: this is a shallow theory. In reality, we find that popular assemblies are capable only of accepting — through enthusiasm — the opinion expressed by individuals or by a small minority — the opinion, for instance, of the recognised leader of their party, of some local worker of repute, of some organised association, or the impersonal opinion of an influential journal. Thus the discussions which precede decision become an absurd comedy played on a vast stage by a multi- tude of heads and voices, the greater the multitude the more unintelligible is the comedy, and the more the denouement depends upon fortuitous and disorderly impulses. To evade all these diflficulties, the system of govern- ment by representation has been devised, a system first established, and first justified by success, in England. Thence, thraugh the influence of fashion, it spread to other European countries, but proved successful only in the United States of America, 9Xid there by tradition and by right. Yet even in England, the land of their origin, representative institutions are in a critical epoch of their history. The very essence of the idea of representation has submitted already to modifications which have changed its primitive significance. In the beginning, the assemblies of electors, on a strictly limited franchise, sent to Parliament a certain number of persons whose duty it was to represent the opinions of the country, but who were not bound by any < definite instructions from the mass of their con- 5 stituents. It was assumed that these elected repre- ? ; THE GREAT FALSEHOOD OF OUR TIME 47 sentatives were men who understood the real needs of their country, and who were capable of justly controlling the politics of the State. The problem was resolved simply and plainly : it was required to lessen, as far as possible, the difficulties of govern- ment by the people, by limiting in number the mem- bers of the assemblies summoned for the decision of questions of State. These men appeared in the capacity of free representatives of the people, and not as instruments of the opinions of factions ; they were bound by no instructions. But in the course of time this system changed under the influence of that fatal delusion about the great value of public opinion, as enlightened by the periodical Press which gave to the people the capacity to participate directly in the decision of political questions. The idea of representation altogether lost its form, and reappeared as the idea of a mandate ; or of specific commission. From this point of view each repre- sentative is accounted a representative of the dominant opinions of his constituency, or of the party under the banner of which his victory was gained. Thus he is no longer a representative of the country, or of the people, but a delegate bound by the instructions of his party. This change in the very essence of the idea of representation was the germ of the disease which has since devoured the whole system of representative government. With the disintegration of parties, elections have taken the character of personal struggles restricted by local interests and opinions, but independent of their primary purpose of subserving the advantage of the State. With the great increase of the numbers Iw .fr*^'- a hCU fc« -k as 48 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN K.^ %' ik- t.\ in Parliament, most of the members, apart from the interests of party strife, are characterised by indifference to public affairs ; they neglect their duty of attendance at all sessions, and of direct participa- tion in the consideration of business. Thus the work of legislation, and the direction of the gravest political affairs, become a play composed of for- mality, compromise, and fiction. The system of re- presentation has falsified itself in practice. These deplorable results are all the more manifest where the population of a country is of hetero- geneous cgmposition, comprising nationalities of many different races. The principle of nationality may be considered the touchstone which reveals the falseness and impracticability of parliamentary government. It is worthy of note that nationality first appeared as an active and irritant force in the government of the world when it came into contact with the new forms of Democracy. It is not easy to apprehend the nature of this new force, and the ends which it pursues ; but it is unquestionable that it contains the source of a grave and complex struggle, impending in the history of humanity, and it is vain to predict to what issues this struggle will lead. To-day we see the various races of composite States animated by passionate feelings of intolerance to the political institution which unites them in a single body, and by an equally passionate aspiration to independent government with their generally fictitious culture. We see this not only among those races which have had a history and a separate political life and culture, but, to an equal extent, among races which have never known inde- THE GREAT FALSEHOOD OF OUR TIME 49 pendence. Autocracy succeeded in evading or con- ciliating such demands and outbreaks, not alone by means of force, but by the equalisation of rights and relations under the unifying power. But Democracy has failed to settle these questions, and the instinct of nationality serves as a disintegrating element. To the supreme Parliament each race sends representa- tives, not of common political interests, but of racial instincts, of racial exasperation, and of racial hatred, both to the dominant race, to the sister races, and to the political institution which unites them all. Such is the unharmonious consequence of parliamentary government in composite States, as Austria, in our day, so vividly illustrates. Providence has preserved our Russia, with its heterogeneous racial composition, from like misfortunes. It is terrible to think of our condition if destiny had sent us the fatal gift— an All-Russian Parliament! But that will never be. Ill iOM^ The advocates of representative institutions point to England as an illustration of their argument, but to this reference we might apply the proverb, " They hear a sound and know not where it is." Social science in our day has begun to investigate the historic and economic sources whence flow the peculiar in- stitutions of the Anglo-Saxon, and to some extent of the Scandinavian races, in comparison with the institutions of the other European peoples. The Anglo-Saxon race, from the time it appeared on the so REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN >«• i^v' (^j\y^ i^tK stage of history up to the present day, has been ^ distinguished by a strongly developed independent personality ; and in the political and economic sphere ^ this attribute of the Anglo-Saxon race has been bound ^/ indissolubly with the steadfastness of its ancient in- stitutions, with the firm organisation of its family life, with its local self-government, with those incompar- able successes which it has attained by its energetic action, and with the influence which it enjoys in both hemispheres. By means of this personal energy, it was able in the beginning of its history to overthrow the strange Norman customs of its conquerors, and to consolidate its polity on those principles which it pre- serves unchanged to the present day. The essential characteristic of this polity lies in the relation of the citizen to the State. From early youth all are accustomed to independence, to fashion their own careers, and to earn their daily bread. Parents are not burdened with the duty of providing for the careers of their children, or of leaving to them inheritances. Landlords maintain their own properties, and encour- age husbandry and handicraft. Local government is carried on by the personal participation of the people, inspired by sentiments of duty. The administrative institutions work without an army of officials main- tained by the State, and looking to it for affluence and advancement. On these bases developed the repre- sentative institutions of free England, and for these reasons its Parliament is actually composed of repre- sentatives of local interests in close association with the land ; for these reasons its voice may be con- sidered to a large extent as the voice of the people, and as the organ of national interests. It* C] -..^ti^ OOt-Hft ^■^'--*' THE GREAT FALSEHOOD OF OUR TIME 51 ^C- I'loWc The other European communities were organised upon a different foundation — the foundation of common interest. Individuals were characterised less by an independent life than by their solidarity with the social alliance to which they belonged. Thence, in the course of social and political develop- ment, sprang the personal dependence of individuals from some social alliance ; and in the end of ends from the State. These alliances, being in the be- ginning firm institutions— family, political, religious, social — strongly supported men in life and action, and men in turn strongly upheld the social and political edifice. In the course of time, these alli-/i(?<^-^^W ances either were dissolved, or lost their ancient political significance, yet men continued as before to seek assistance in the making of their careers from their families, their corporations, and finally from the State, whether monarchical or republican, and to lay on it the responsibility for misfortunes when these supports gave way. To put it shortly, each citizen looks to one of these powers to determine his career. Such a state of society is commonly found deficient in independent and self-reliant men, men who stand upon their own feet and master their fates, thus constituting an element of support to the State; while on the other hand, there exists a great multitude of men who seek support from the State, nourish them- selves on its sap, and take from it much more than they give. Thence in such societies springs the immense increase on the one hand of the official class, and on the other hand of the so-called liberal professions. Thence, through decay of independent action, the extreme complexity of the administrative and legisla- MC^* li^^l la-' QX^t: '\ a * f,'^ >t J. t^ V ■' f^fJ^*K^t* /I ,,/J^'^' :rv^vt/lvl Ht ] ijs At \' 64 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN sentatives of this terrible power, Public Opinion? Whence is derived their right and authority to rule in the name of the community, to demolish existing institutions, and to proclaim new ideals of ethics and legislation ? But no one attempts to answer this question ; all talk loudly of the liberty of the Press as the first and essential element of social well-being. Even in Russia, so libelled by the lying Press of Europe, such words are heard. Our so-called Slavo- a^H c\^ \\\<^ Press are identical. To test the validity of this claim, it is only needful to consider the origin of newsp apers, and the ch aracters of their makers. ^ 'l. *■ I ' Kit THE PRESS 65 ^^J^AiX^^''^^ Any vagabond babbler or unacknowledged genius, any enterprising tradesman, with his own money or with the money of others, may found a news- paper, even a great newspaper. He may attract a host of writers and feuilletonists, ready to deliver judgment on any subject at a moment's notice ; he may hire illiterate reporters to keep him supplied ^^f with rumours and scandals. His staff is then com- plete. From that day he sits in judgment on all the world, on ministers and administrators, on literature and art, on finance and industry. It is true that the new journal becomes a power only when it is sold in the market — that is, when it cir- culates among the public. For this talent is needed, and the matter published must be attractive and con- genial for the readers. Here, we might think, was some guarantee of the moral value of the under- taking — men of talent will not serve a feeble or contemptible editor or publisher ; the public will not support a newspaper which is not a faithful echo of public opinion. This guarantee is fictitious. Experience proves that money will attract talent under any conditions, and that talent is ready to write as its paymaster requires, vu^^ -'^-^^^^ Experience proves that the most contemptible persons — retired money - lenders, Jewish factors, newsvendors, and bankrupt gamblers — may found newspapers, secure the services of talented writers, and place their editions on the market as organs of public opinion. (The healthy taste of the public -'''''» is not to be relied upon. The great mass of readers, - .-t^r*,., idlers for the most part, is ruled less by a few healthy instincts than by a base and despicable C >Hr^ t * p( (• >. Ix^ uV '- ,A^ hi 1^ 66 /REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN 1 ^y tU*^ J4t^^\' hankering for idle amusement) and the support of the people may be secured by any editor who provides for the satisfaction of these hankerings, for the love of scandal, and for intellectual pruriency of the basest kind. Of this we meet with evidence daily : even in our own capital no search is necessary to find it ; it is enough to note the supply and demand at the newsvendors' shops, and at the railway stations. All of us have observed the triviality of conversation in society; in provincial towns, in the government capitals, the recrea- tions of the people are well known— gambling, scandal, and anecdotes are the chief. Even conversation on the so-called social and political questions takes in a great measure the form of censure and aphorisms, plentifully supplemented with scandal and anecdote. This is a rich and fruitful soil for the tradesmen of literature, and there, as poisonous fungi, spring up organs of calumny, ephemeral and permanent, impudently extolling themselves as organs of public opinion. .The great part which in the idle life of govern- z-^^^' ment towns is played by anonymous letters and lampoons, which, unhappily, are so common among us, is played in the newspaper by " correspondence," sent from various quarters or composed in the editorial offices, by the reports and rumours invented by ignorant reporters, and by the atrocious practice of blackmailing, often the strongest weapon of the newspaper press. Such a paper may flourish, attain consideration as an organ of public opinion, and be immensely remunerative to its owners, while no paper conducted upon firm moral principles, or THE PRESS 67 k#^*r *-A founded to meet the healthier instincts of the , people could compete with it for a moment. r^M^^'^^ This phenomenon is worthy of close inspection, , ^ for we find in it the most incongruous product of ^^c^'^^O^-'^*'' modern culture, the more incongruous where the principles of the new Liberalism have taken root, where the sanction of election, the authority of thQ'^^<^^^'^t^'^'^^^*^^ popular will, is needed for every institution, where the ruling power is vested in the hands of individuals, v/leit/c and derived from the suffrages of the majority in the representative assemblies. For the journalist ^ ^ i with a power comprehending all things, requires no ^«'--^'*^^'*^^ sanction. He derives his authority from no election, he receives support from no one. His newspaper becomes an authority in the State, and for this -s authority no endorsement is required. The man /u'«''*^'^.,.,*'-V*' in the street may establish such an organ, and l"^'''*^' ^ ^ - exercise the concomitant authority with an irre--t/^<*?"- ^.^^^i*^ sponsibility enjoyed by no other power in the world. h'''' ^ That this is in no way exaggeration there are in- / '^^■ numerable proofs. How often have superficial y '*^^* and unscrupulous journalists paved the way for revolution, fomented irritation into enmity, and - _ir brought about desolating wars! For conduct such as this a monarch would lose his throne, a minister would be disgraced, impeached, and punished ; but the journalist stands dry above the waters he has disturbed, from the ruin he has caused he rises triumphant, and briskly continues his destructive work. This is by no means the worst. When a judge has power to dishonour us, to deprive us of our property and of our freedom, he receives his power from the { / J y" REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN ) r.i' r* >' ^''^/' .-l*" CA' ti.'- r7f'^ ' ^>^ '> it ^ i^''^ >A' <; » »• / c^ J • .A- hands of the State only after such prolonged labour and experience as qualify him for his calling. His power is restricted by rigorous laws, his judgments are subject to revision by higher powers, and his sen- tence may be altered or commuted. The journalist has the fullest power to defame and dishonour me, t6 injure my material interests, even to restrict my liberty by attacks which force me to leave my place of abode. These judicial powers he has usurped ; no higher authority has conferred them upon him ; he has never proven by examination his fitness to exercise them ; he has in no way shown his trust- worthiness or his impartiality ; his court is ruled by no formal procedure ; and from his judgment there lies no appeal. Its defenders assure us that the Press itself heals the wounds it has inflicted ; but any thinking mind can see that these are mere idle words. The attacks of the Press on indi- viduals may cause irreparable injury. Retrac- tions and explanations can in no way give them full satisfaction. Not half of those who read the denunciatory article will read the apology or the explanation, and in the minds of the mass of frivolous readers insulting or calumnious suggestions leave behind an ineffaceable stain. Criminal prosecution for defamation is but the feeblest defence, and civil action seldom succeeds in exposing the offender, while it subjects the offended to fresh attack. The journalist, moreover, has a thousand means of -t^SSJidhig and terrifying individuals without furnishing them with sufficient grounds for legal prosecution. \X is hard to imagine a despotism more irrespon- ^\ THE PRESS 69 sible and violent than the despotism of printed words. \ Is it not strange and irrational, then, that those who struggle most for the preservation of this despotism are the impassioned champions of freedom, the ferocious enemies of legal restrictions and of all interference by the established authority. We cannot help remem- bering those wise men who went mad because they knew of their wisdom. II There is nothing more remarkable in this century of advancement than the development of journalism to its present state as a terribly active social force. The importance of the Press first began to increase after the Revolution of July 1830, it doubled its influence after the Revolution of 1 848 ; since then it has grown in power not only year by year but day by day. Already Governments have begun to measure their strength against this new force, and it has become impossible to imagine not only public but even individual life without the news- paper ; so that the suppression of newspapers, if it were possible, would mean as much to daily life as the cessation of railway communica- tions. Without doubt, the newspaper serves th e^ wor ld as a po werful instrument of culture. But while we acknowledge the convenience and profit derived from the dissemination of knowledge among the people, and from the interchange of thought and opinion, we cannot ignord the dangers imminent from the unbounded .^ A. !fc ,X I" v (TV ' v^ 70 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN growth of the Press ; we cannot refuse to recognise with a feeling of terror, the fatal, mysterious, and disintegrating force which threatens the future of humanity. Every day the newspaper brings us a mass of varied news. How much of this is of real use to our lives, and to our educational development? How much is fit to feed in our souls the sacred flame of aspiration unto good? How much is there not to flatter our baser instincts and im- pulses ? We are told that the newspaper gives what the taste of readers demands, that its level reaches the level of the reader's taste. But to this we may reply that the demand would not be so great were the supply less energetically pushed. If news alone were published the case would be different ; but no, it is offered in a special form, embellished with personal opinions, and accom- panied by anonymous but very decided com- mentaries. Papers controlled by serious persons of course exist, but such are few, while to the making of newspapers there is no end ; and no morning passes without some writer, unknown to me, whom, perhaps, I should not care to know, obtruding upon me his views, expressed with all the authority of public opinion. What is graver still, however, is that this newspaper addresses not only a single class, but all men, some of whom can barely spell out a page of print, and offers to each a ready-made judgment upon everything, in such a seductive form that, little by little, by force of habit, the reader loses all wish for, and feels absolved from the duty of, forming his own opinions. Some THE PRESS n -H have no ability for forming opinions, and accept mechanically the opinions of their newspapers ; ,^^> while others, born with a capacity for original thought, in the trials and anxieties of daily life have not the time to think, and welcome the news- paper which does their thinking for them. The harm that results from this is too visible, especially in our time when powerful currents of thought are everywhere in action, wearing down the corners and distinctions of individual thought, reducing to uniformity the so-called public opinion, and weaken- ing all independent development of thought, of will, and of character. Moreover, for many of the people the newspaper is the only source of education — a contemptible, pretended education — the varied mass of news and information found in the news- Y^'- paper being taken by its readers as real know- ledge, with which he proceeds to arm himself complacently. This we may take as one of the j^ reasons why our age brings forth so few complete ...f^^**' individuals, so few men of character. The modern H^' Press is like the fabled hero who, having inscribed upon his visor some mysterious characters, the symbols of divine truth, struck all his enemies with terror, till one intrepid warrior rubbed from his helm the mysterious letters. On the visor of our Press to-day is written the legend " Public Opinion," .^^' ff\>- V and its influence is irresistible. HI lU.&O'u^'^'^'' : IT » In the present constitution of society the Press has ([) r. 72 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN THE PRESS 73 L »/ .^ V .)»* •»•• ^ * %^ become an institution which cannot be ignored, but which must be considered side by side with the exist- ing institutions which constitute the State and are subject to control and responsibility, for there is no institution which may be accounted uncontrolled and irresponsible. The greater the growth of the Press, the more clearly appear, side by side with the apparent advantages of rational and conscien- tious publicity, those social dangers which it creates. One of these dangers is the production and multi- plication of a class of journalists, adventurers, and writers, who feed and grow fat upon the pen. The more serious workers on the serious Press never cease to complain bitterly of the multipli- cation of these fellows, with whom they are ashamed to be associated, even in name. In all the great States, in all the great markets, out of this rabble of scribbling brethren springs a class of men whom it is no exaggeration to describe as parasites on society. In fact, these men stand on a special footing in relation to the general welfare, which should unite and inspire all institutions. They are in no way clirectly interested in the preservation of social order, in the reconciliation of opposing minds and contending parties. This is in the nature of things. The newspaper lives and is nourished by daily events and news. In troubled times its circulation increases ; then its energies are expended in the dissemination of rumours and sensations which alarm and irritate the minds of the people ; while on the other hand in times of quietude its circulation is sensibly diminished. Hardly has trouble begun ' when the streets are flooded with new publications which discord nourishes till peace returns, when they vanish as quickly as they appeared. But even in quiet times some must live, and for that end, new agitations are fomented, new interests developed, ^4^1 /^*S and sensations invented or exaggerated. .^^xMa'^*^ Those journals which pretend to seriousness find matter in the consideration of political questions, and in the frothy polemics which daily appear. The journalist is ready at a moment's notice to decide any imaginable political question ; and by his posi- tion he is bound to consider and decide it imme- diately, for he is a servant not of thought, or of reason, but a servant of the actual day. No sooner does the thought occur than it flies to paper, thence to the printing press ; there must be no delay, no time is allowed for the ripening of his thought. You ask these men are they ashamed. Not at all. They would laugh in your face at such a question, they are persuaded that they render great services to society. They resemble in this the ancient augurs who made merry both over them- selves and over their dupes. ^ s/^tr If the journalist is to attract attention, he must raise his voice to a scream. This his trade requires, and exaggeration capable of passing into pathos becomes for him his second nature. When he enters upon a controversy he is ready to denounce his adversary as a fool, a rascal, or a dunce, to heap upon him unimaginable insults — this costs his conscience nothing ; it is required by journalistic etiquette. His cries resemble the protestations of a trader in the market-place when he cheats his customers. j^tA ■fi^\/ ^»-w 74 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN /4? These are the practices and qualities which un- happily flourish in the Press and among its workers. It would be very laughable were it not so harmful. It is harmful because the Press now occupies an arena in which are discussed and decided the gravest questions of internal and external policy — questions of economy and administration indissolubly bound with the vital interests of peoples. For all this passion is but a weak equipment; sage reasoning and maturity and sanity of thought are also needed ; needed, too, is knowledge of the history of peoples, and of practical life. Yet in Europe things have gone so far that from the ranks of journalism rise orators and states- ^^ men who, together with the advocates with whom they share the capacity for abusive language, con- I stitute in Parliament an overwhelming force. In the French Chamber there are but twenty-two repre- sentatives of large and fifty of small property, while all the talking strength belongs to journalists, of whom there are fifty-nine, and to advocates, of whom there are a hundred and seven. And these are the representatives of their country, and the judges of the lives and requirements of the people ! The people groans at this confusion of legislators. But it cannot deliver itself ^ 1^ \ ^>-> /^^^ c. *i I » (. PUBLIC INSTRUCTION I When reason is severed from life it becomes at once artificial, formal, and, in consequence, sterile. Problems are then regarded and solved from the point of view of abstract propositions and principles taken on faith ; and thought glides along the surface of things, never seeking to penetrate its object, and ignoring the facts of actual life. Of such abstractions and generalities the number has multiplied incredibly, especially since the end of the last century ; they have filled our lives, they have made our legislation inde- pendent of the facts of existence, and have set up science itself in opposition to life and its phenomena. In the wake of the doctrinaires of science, whose doctrinarianism often approaches infatuation, in the wake of the adepts of scholasticism, marches the great herd of intellect. Abstract propositions attain the rank of indisputable axioms, which to oppose would be a heavy and often impossible task. It is difficult to estimate the damage which legislation has suffered from such abstractions, and how they have fettered, hand and foot, the living organism of social life with artificial formulas imposed by force. In the van of this movement marched the French, who first gave the sanction of fashion to the movement for the equalisation of the national life by means of 75 76 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN abstract principles deduced from hypothetical pre- misses. The example of France has been followed by all, even by those States in which the conditions of life, and the ethnical, geographical, and climatic conditions are infinitely varied. How much even our own country has suffered from such experiments there is no need to remark. Take, for instance, the phrases, repea tted unto weariness among us, and every where ^Free Educa- tion, Obligatory Attendance, the Restriction of I Child - Labour During the Years of Obligatory rAttendanceTj There can be no question that learning is light, and that ignorance is darkness, but in the application of this rule we must take care to be ruled by common-sense, and to abstain from violating that freedom, of which we hear so much, and which our legislators so ruthlessly restrict. Inspired by an idle saying that the schoolmaster won the battle of Sadowa, we multiply our model schools and schoolmasters, ignoring the requirements both of children and of parents, of climate, and of nature itself We refuse to recognise, what experience has shown, that the school is a deceptive formality where its roots have taken no hold among the people, where it fails to meet the people's necessities, and to accord with the economy of its life. That school alone is suited to the people which pleases them, and the enlightening influence of which they see and feel ; but all schools are repugnant to them to which they are driven by force, under threats of punish- ment, or which are organised, in ignorance of the people's tastes and necessities, on the fantasies of doctrinaires. In such schools the work becomes I « PUBLIC INSTRUCTION 77 '^ i^ he strives to surpass the immemorial work of the human soul. Who gave strength and authority for this to the destroyer? He has taken his victim, and led him — whither? Into the wilderness, where a hundred sinuous paths diverge, but no straight road is found. Whatever the aim, such is the end of the fanatical religious reformer — the wilderness. VI The founders of religion recognising from the heights of contemplation the idea of Godhead and its relations to man, evolved in conformity therewith an order of rites and ceremonials inspired by that idea. But the mass of the people remains in the valley, and the light of pure contemplation shining above the hills does not reach it at once. To the people religious sentiments are expressed by a number of ceremonies and traditions which from the austerest standpoint may seem superstition and idolatry. Zealous defenders of the faith, alarmed and indignant, sometimes attempt with violent hand to destroy these external expressions of the vulgar faith, as Moses destroyed the golden calf raised by Aaron at the demand of the people, when the prophet was lost in high contemplation on the summit of Mount Sinai. Thence springs the Puritan zeal of the leaders of religion, passing often to fanaticism. But in this envelope of the popular religion, often rude, are hidden elements of faith susceptible of de- r I !( 154 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN velopment and sublimation, the germs of eternal truth. In tradition and in ceremonial, in symbolism and in custom, the people sees the actual incarnation of that which expressed in abstract formula would be neither real nor effective. What if destroying the husk we deaden the kernel of truth ; if pulling up the tares we pull up also the wheat ? What if in striving to purify the faith of the people under the pretext of enmity to superstition we destroy the faith itself? If the forms by which simple men express their faith in the living God repel us, let us remember that it is to us, perhaps, the command of our Divine Master was given : " Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones that believe in Me." In an Arabic poem we find the instructive parable of the celebrated teacher Djelalledin. Once Moses, while wandering in the wilderness, came upon a shepherd who was praying fervently to God. This was the shepherd's prayer : — " How shall I know where to find thee, and how to be thy servant ? How I should wish to put on thy sandals, to comb thy hair, to wash thy garments, to kiss thy feet, to care for thy dwelling, to give thee milk from my herd ; for such is the desire of my heart." Moses, when he heard the words of the shep- herd, was angered, and reproached him. " Thou blas- phemest ! The Most High God has no body, he wants neither clothing, nor dwelling, nor service. What dost thou mean, unbeliever?" The heart of the shepherd was saddened, because he could not conceive a being without bodily form and corporeal needs : he was taken by despair and ceased to serve the Lord. But God spoke to Moses and said : "Why hast thou driven away from me my servant? Every FAITH 155 man has taken from me the form of his being and the manner of his speech. What to thee is evil, to another is good, to thee it is poison, to another it is sweet honey. To me words are nothing. I look into the heart of man." VII The Persian poet, Mohammed Roumi, who lived in the thirteenth century, is the author of the celebrated poem " Masnava." It contains some remarkable verses on prayer which are worthy of a trusting soul : — " A certain man cried out in the silence of the night, * Oh, Allah ! ' But Satan answered, * Be silent, thou fool, thou hast babbled enough already ! Thou wilt never hear an answer from the height of the throne, however much thou mayst cry " Allah ! " and look disheartened.' "The man's heart was troubled, and he hung his head. Then appeared to him the prophet Kisr, and asked : ' Why hast thou ceased to call on God, and repented of thy prayers ? ' The man answered, ^ I got no answer from Allah ; I heard no voice saying, " I am here," and I fear that the gates of salvation are shut against me.' Kisr answered, ' Thus has Allah commanded me, " Go thou to him and say, ' Oh, man, tried by much, have I not commanded thee to serve me ; have I not commanded thee to call on me. And my reply, " Here am I " is the same as thine " Oh, Allah ! " Thy suffering, thy ardour, and thy zeal, all these are my messengers to thee : when N 156 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN thou struggles! with thyself and cryest for help, by this struggle and cry I draw thee to myself, and answer thy prayer. Thy fear and thy love are the signs of my forgiveness, and in thy words, "O Allah ! " is a multitude of answers, " I am with thee." ' " I THE IDEALS OF UNBELIEF I li \ i The ancient words, " The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God," apply with especial force to-day. Their truth is plainer than the sun, although now all " progressive minds " are possessed by a passionate desire to live without God, to conceal Him, to deny His presence. Even men at heart benevolent and honourable ask themselves how they may realise benevolence, honour, and conscience without God. The Government of France, in the last stage of political disintegration, has organised its national schools without God. Among us, unhappily, certain representatives of intelligence Rave rivalted — the Moscow princess, who said, " Ah, France, no better country in the world ! " — for not long ago a cele- brated schoolmaster pointed out the French scholastic system as a model worthy of imitation. Among the latest books officially prescribed for study in the female schools of France is one entitled, " Instruction Morale et Civique des Jeunes Filles." This is in the nature of a secular catechism of morals, appointed to replace the study of the Word of God. This book is worthy of notice. It is divided into three sections, each bearing a different title. The first is composed of certain moral precepts on duty, honesty, conscience, and so forth. The second part 157 1S8 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN THE IDEALS OF UNBELIEF 159 • X contains a short description of the State and of the national institutions. The third part treats of woman, her mission, faculties, and virtues. The matter in the book is concise, simple, and clear, written as a text- book ought to be with a multitude of clear examples and illustrations. No exception can be taken to the manner of this book ; it preaches order, good morals, purity of thought and intention, kind deeds ; it approves with emphasis the sentiment and recognition of duty, and carefully sets forth a woman's duties in social and domestic life. One thing alone is notable. On no single page is mentioned the name of God, nor is there the slightest reference to the religious feeling. The author, after explaining the great importance of the part played in man by conscience, defines it thus : " Conscience is our conception of the opinion which others have about us and our actions" {consideration de Vopinion des autres). On this treacherous and mutable base, the opinion of others, is affirmed the moral foundation of our lives. How excellently this illustrates the ancient proverb, "Who thinks himself too wise becomes a fool." Unhappily, to this stream of idiotcy flooding France to-day are drawn even from our poor Russia little rills of native intelligence ; and in our newspapers and gazettes, in our leading articles and feuilletons are repeated in chorus the words of the Moscow princess. To the same chorus too often are drawn those well-meaning, but simple and inexperienced men, who fancy newspapers must bring to them some " new word " of civilisation. Nothing is more deplorable than the reasoning on l^ the subject of education of our journalist critics, who tell us that while religion and religious training are indisp^sable, churches and ministers must be abolished. [_§ometimes they speak more plainly. " We do not reject religious teaching, we even demand it ; we cannot understand education without it ; but we object to Clericalism." By this term we must under- stand the Church and everything appertaining thereto?^ This Jesuitical casuistry, which the apostles of popular education have made peculiarly their own, misleads many readers who cannot appreciate subtlety in writing. These good men do not know that the word religion, as many other words, has changed its signi- fication, and is made by many to imply something from which, if they but understood it, believers in God would recoil with abhorrence. They do not know that in our time religion may exist without God, and that the very word God, in its application by so-called men of science, has a double meaning. In 1882 appeared a remarkable book which awakened general interest. Therein the negation of God, by the enemies of all religion, was expressed with ferocity, with reckless and malicious irony, with a demand for the exclusive consideration of matter in the universe. The first part of the work ex- pressed, in a tranquil tone, with dignity, with an ideal outlook on life, the whole teaching of the religion without God. This book was entitled \ "Natural Religion" (London, 1882). Its author, Professor Seeley of Oxford, was he whose former "Ecce Homo," which appeared ten years before, had attracted the attention, not only of men of I l6o REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN science, but of religious idealists who sought in it some new word on Christ and the Christian faith. A Russian translation of this latter work has been published by an admirer. But to the adherents of the Church Mr Seeley*s work seemed strange and questionable. Few could look on it without distrust. This book contained an artistic analysis of the earthly life and character of Jesus Christ, treating exclusively of his human nature. It was written in a spirit of deep piety, in the language of philo- sophy, with occasional recourse to the terminology of theologians. The object of the work seemed to be to hold up the image of Christ to pious imita- tion. The author, it seemed, was a Christian, full of religious feeling. But many religious readers took alarm, as if their views and sentiments of Christianity were not in accord with the views and sentiments of the author. The picture of Christ was a picture of supreme holiness, purity, and goodness, but not that picture which we have been taught to venerate from childhood — not the Christ honoured by the Christian Church. Something discordant appeared throughout the book, as if the author had either lost all faith, or was on the point of losing it. Nevertheless, the writer plainly affirmed his faith in the existence of a personal God ; in the immortality of the human soul ; in the Messianic significance of the appearance of Christ ; and even, although with some hesitation, in the reality of His miracles. Ten years passed ; again Mr Seeley appeared as the inspired prophet of religion, this time a new religion, and not the religion of Christ. The ancient THE IDEALS OF UNBELIEF i6i revelation, he said, had done its work; instead, a new revelation had come ; the naturalists, historians, and philologists of the age had borne us a revela- tion of which the ancient prophets had never dreamed. The Biblical criticism of German scholars was greater and more perfect than the Bible itself With uncommon simplicity, turning to the believers and members of the Church, he asks : " Why should we quarrel, why should there be strife between us? We may unite in a single faith. We, men of science, also trust in God. Our God is Nature, which in one sense is a revelation too. Therefore we are not atheists," he repeats, " and the battle between us, men of science, and you, men of faith, is merely a battle of words. Is it not the same? For us God is Nature, and the scientific theory of the universe is a theory of theism also. Nature is a force existing outside of us ; its law for us is absolute : there is the divinity which we adore." Is it not strange that the author, while rejecting the personal existence of God, at the same time pro- tests with energy against the accusation of atheism, which he rejects and condemns? What is atheism, then? This question Mr Seeley answers with a tortuous subtlety which to a simple mind must seem insanity. "There is an atheism which is a mere speculative crotchet, and there is an atheism which is a great moral disease. . . The purest form of such real atheism might be called by the general name of wilfulness. All human activity is a transaction with Nature. It is the arrangement of a compromise between what we want on the one hand, and what Nature has decreed on the other. Not to recognise anything but your own will, to fancy anything within your reach if you only will strongly i' I ' I , 162 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN enough, to acknowledge no superior power outside yourself which must be considered, and in some way propitiated, if you would succeed in any undertaking : this is complete wilfulness, or, in other words, pure atheism." — Seeley, ** Natural Religion," p. 27. To illustrate this obscure and disorderly argument, our author takes as example a country in its fate a symbol of pure atheism, and points to Poland. " Sedet aternumque sedehit^'' says he, " that unhappy Poland, not indeed extinguished, but partitioned, and every thirty years deci- mated anew, expiates the crime of atheistic wilfulness, the fatal pleasure of unbounded individual liberty, which rose up against the very nature of things." — Ihid. p. 29. Having disclosed this theory of religion, he describes in detail how the religious feeling is born from science, and, passing through the prism of imagination, is refracted in the moral nature of man into a religious trinity : the religion of Nature, the religion of Humanity, and the religion of Beauty. In this book, written with talent and spirit, is a doctrine by no means new, although for the first time expressed with such completeness. The reader finds there the well-known features of the Positivism so fashionable in our time — features familiar through the writings of Kant, George Eliot, and Herbert Spencer — the well-beloved of Russian translators. Not one of these writers exposes so clearly the internal weakness of this fashionable theory as the author of " Natural Religion." To what idiotcy must the mind have sunken when, drawn by the pride of self-adora- tion, it rejects the supernatural in life and nature, and strives to build a theory of life in relation to the universe. This theory is condemned to turn in an THE IDEALS OF UNBELIEF 163 enchanted circle, and to contradict itself for ever. Denying a personal God, in vain it would sustain religion and establish an object of religious feeling; for, except the living God, there can be no object of religion. Rejecting the invisible world, the immortality of the soul, and the future life, it proclaims that the end of life is happiness, and would confine humanity within the limits of matter and of its earthly nature. Condemning revelation as invention or fantasy, and every dogma as false- hood, it seeks to support itself by a new dogma, proclaiming as an indisputable axiom the constant and endless progress of humanity. This theory, in a flash, reflects that wilfulness and that obduracy of thought which our author combines in his conception of atheism. It shows no sign of that clear and simple confidence which serves as a symptom of the truth and durability of doctrines. In their sermons on the happiness of humanity, its prophets all stumble on an actuality which they cannot deny. This actuality is the inevitable presence of evil and of evil works, of violence and of injustice in human life — the argument of pessimism. This argument cannot be lived down, although some of the apostles of Positivism strive to stifle its voice or hypocritically to ignore it, while others, more conscientious, stand by it with grief and questioning. To the number of the last belongs our author. While extolling the new religion of Nature, Humanity, and Beauty, and proving the strength and actuality of the cult it preaches, at the same time he admits that hardly have we found satis- faction in these ideas when pessimism raises its head I' 164 /REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN and brings us to despair. If it were not for pessi- mism, he declares, nothing would destroy our religious beliefs. And at the end of the book, when crowning his edifice, he makes these remarks : "The more our thoughts widen and deepen, as the universe grows upon us and we become accustomed to boundless space and time, the more petrifying is the contrast of our own insignificance, the more contemptible become the pettiness, shortness, fragility of the individual life. A moral paralysis creeps upon us. For a while we comfort ourselves with the notion of self-sacrifice ; we say. What matter if I pass, let me think of others ! But the other has become contemptible no less than the self j all human griefs alike seem little worth assuaging, human happiness too paltry at the best to be worth increasing. The whole moral world is reduced to a point j the spiritual city, * the goal of all the saints,' dwindles to the * least of little stars ' ; good and evil, right and wrong, become infinitesimal, ephemeral matters, while eternity and infinity remain attributes of that only which is outside the realm of morality. Life becomes more intolerable the more we know and discover, so long as every- thing widens and deepens, except our own duration, and that remains as pitiful as ever. The affections die away in a world where every- thing great and enduring is cold j they die of their own conscious feebleness and bloodlessness. "Supernatural Religion met this want by connecting Love and Righteousness with eternity. If it is shaken, how shall its place be supplied ? And what would Natural Religion avail then ? " Ibid. p. 261. Who would believe that these words were written by the ardent prophet of Natural Religion? Thus may a serious mind be entangled in the intellectual network it weaves. The essence of this work, with all its moderation of tone, with all the sincerity of its author, is a joyless paradox. That the various systems of cosmology, the scientific, the artistic, and the humanist, con- tain elements of religious feeling cannot be denied. THE IDEALS OF UNBELIEF 16S But they do not embody the elements of a new faith, of a new church ; they are separate limbs — disjecta membra — of the Christian philosophy of life. Religion is impossible without the recognition of axiomatic truths unattainable by the path of induc- tion. To such truths belong the existence of a personal God, and the immaterial nature of the human soul, whence springs supernaturalism, with- out which religion is inconceivable. With the ex- ception of mathematics, scientific truths are by their nature hypothetical : they exist consciously only for scholars, and only by deception may be imparted to the mass in dogmatic form. This deception obtains among us and progresses — of this we find fresh evidence every day. II Intolerance of strange beliefs and strange opinions has never been so sharply expressed as it is nowadays by the apostles of radical and negative beliefs, among whom such intolerance is mercilessand bitter, and joined with animosity and contempt. When we consider the relations of these teachers to the new doctrines they proclaim, their intolerance is more abhorrent than the old religious intolerance which expressed itself in sanguinary persecution. Then persecution was based on unqualified faith in a truth which absolutely existed. When men believe that they possess an absolute truth, sprung from the ultimate principle of life and involving happiness for all, as the Moslem believes in the Koran, it is conceivable that they may consider it a duty i66 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN not only openly to preach their doctrine, but, if need be, by violence to enforce it upon others. But when it is merely an opinion, although it may be that nothing is more probable for him who formed it, how can we understand fanaticism so great that its advocate does not admit not only contradiction but even compromise, although conditional and tempor- ary, with adverse opinion? Yet such passionate attachment to their own convictions or to the doctrines of their schools is an attribute to all the prophets of negation. Rejecting, as if it were not, the whole former history of the spiritual development of humanity, ignoring all ancient faiths and the spiritual conditions of peoples, denying all rights of independent existence, repelled not by the sanctity of personal faith, they claim admittance to every soul, and everywhere strive to establish their new religion. This they call the truth of their convictions. One of the representa- tives of the doctrine of Comte and the Positivists (John Morley "On Compromise") maintains that the first duty of every man to himself and to humanity is to solve in his heart the question. Does he or does he not believe in the existence of God ? Should he reach the conviction that faith in God is no better than a blind and unhealthy superstition, it is his sacred duty to break in with this conviction on every soul, to take advantage of every occasion to convert, firstly, his kinsmen and neighbours, and then, if possible, the people ; to proclaim it everywhere, and in private and public life wholly to renounce all forms and ceremonies which, directly or indirectly, express a faith opposed to his conviction. What is this but a terrible violence against the conscience of THE IDEALS OF UNBELIEF 167 Others — and in the name of what? In the name of a personal opinion. In this hell of vanity we can find neither love nor faith. But without love and without faith there can be no truth. How different to listen to the voice of the old true teacher ! What faith and love, what knowledge of the human soul is there in those words in which the Apostle to the Corinthians enjoins respect for human conscience. He knows the truth, but with his deep spiritual knowledge how cautiously would he approach the human soul ! His purpose is that the soul shall accept and embrace the new belief in the spirit of sincerity and truth by faith alone, with- out disunion, without discord with itself. All that comes not from faith is sin. And the Apostle teaches the strong and learned that they must spare the con- sciences of their weaker brethren even in superstition, when the soul is not ripe to accept the truth with entire faith. The Apostle, the herald of Christian freedom, acting from conviction, sacrifices freedom itself to the sanc- tity of conscience, knowing that conscience is dearer than all. You know, says he, that meat commendeth us not to God ; for neither if we eat are we the better ; neither if we eat not are we the worse. You know that the idol is nothing, that the false God does not exist, therefore with quiet conscience buy meat and eat it, which was brought as sacrifice to the idol. Ill Nothing is more surprising than the fatuity of clever men who have grown up in estrangement from f i68 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN actual life, and who are blinded by confidence in the infallibility of logic. By adoration of reason they are seduced from religion, and at last incited to hatred of every faith in the only living God. But those who at the same time are men of conscience, find that they cannot rid themselves of the aspiration to faith innate in humanity ; those whose hearts are unhardened by the severity of logic admit the law- fulness of religious feeling in man, and strive to satisfy it by some religion devised by themselves. We may wonder at the fancifulness of plans contrived by minds apparently striving to drive away everything like fancy out of their reasoning and deliberations. Strauss, in his work on "The Old and the New Faith," while rejecting Christianity, speaks with enthusiasm of the religious sentiment, but as its object and centre replaces the living God with the idea of the World, the so-called Universum. After the death of Mill, his occasional thoughts on religion appeared in London under the title, "Three Essays on Religion: Nature, the Utility of Religion, and Theism." The utility of religion he admits without reserve, and, while rejecting Chris- tianity, he speaks of the individual Christ with the greatest enthusiasm. "The value of religion to the individual, both in the past and present, as a source of personal satisfaction and of elevated feelings, is not to be disputed. But it has still to be considered whether, in order to obtain this good, it is necessary to travel beyond the boundaries of the world which we inhabit j or whether the idealisation of our earthly life, the cultivation of a high conception of what // may be made, is not capable of supplying a poetry, and, in the best sense of the word, a religion, equally fitted to exalt the feelings, and (with the same aid from education) still better calcu- THE IDEALS OF UNBELIEF 169 lated to ennoble the conduct, than any belief respecting the unseen powers." « Three Essays on Religion " (Utility of Religion), pp. 104-5. London, 1874. The question is worthy of Mill as we know him by the history of his education. It is interesting to note how in his decision of this question. Mill could not, with Strauss, accept as decisive the idea of the Universe, for Mill, strange to say, did not trust in Nature. In the beginning of the same book, true as ever to his estrangement from reality, he speaks of " Enquiry into the truth of the doctrines which make Nature a test of right and wrong, good and evil, or which in any mode or degree attach merit or approval to following, imitating, or obeying Nature." — Ibid, (Nature), p. 13. These doctrines Mill rejects, for in Nature he sees blind force and nothing more. Nature inspires desires which it does not satisfy ; it builds great edifices, powers, and actions, in a moment to over- throw them ; it destroys blindly and indiscriminately all that it has created. For this reason Mill declines to construct on Nature any system of morals or of religion. What, then, does he think ? These are his own words : " When we consider how ardent a sentiment, in favourable cir- cumstances of education, the love of country has become, we cannot judge it impossible that the love of that larger country, the world, may be nursed into similar strength, both as a source of elevated emotion and as a principle of duty. He who needs any other lesson on this subject than the whole course of ancient history affords, let him read Cicero De Officiis. It cannot be said that the standard of morals laid down in that celebrated treatise is a high standard. To our notions, it is on many points unduly lax, and admits capitu- 170 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN lations of conscience. But on the subject of duty to our country there is no compromise. That any man, with the smallest preten- sions to virtue, could hesitate to sacrifice life, reputation, family, everything valuable to him, to the love of country, is a supposition which this eminent interpreter of Greek and Roman morality cannot entertain for a moment. If, then, persons could be trained, as we see they were, not only to believe in theory that the good of their country was an object to which all others ought to yield, but to feel this practically as the grand duty of life, so also may they be made to feel the same absolute obligation towards the universal good. A morality grounded on large and wise views of the whole, neither sacrificing the individual to the aggregate nor the aggregate to the individual, but giving to duty, on the one hand, and to freedom and spontaneity, on the other, their proper province, would derive its power in the superior natures from sympathy and benevolence and the passion for ideal excellence j in the inferior, from the same feelings cultivated up to the measure of their capacity, with the superadded force of shame. This exalted morality would not depend for its ascendency on any hope of reward j but the reward which might be looked for, and the thought of which would be a consolation in suffering, and a support in moments of weakness, would not be a problematical future existence, but the approbation in this of those whom we respect, and ideally of all those, dead or living, whom we admire or venerate. For, the thought that our dead parents or friends would have approved our conduct is a scarcely less powerful motive than the knowledge that our living ones do approve it ; and the idea that Socrates, or Howard or Washington, or Antoninus, or Christ, would have sympathised with us, or that we are attempt- ing to do our part in the spirit in which they did theirs, has operated on the very best minds as a strong incentive to act up to their highest feelings and convictions. "To call these sentiments by the name of morality, exclusively of any other title, is claiming too little for them. They are a real religion } of which, as of other religions, outward good works (the utmost meaning usually suggested by the word morality) are only a part, and are indeed rather the fruits of the religion than the religion itself. The essence of religion is the strong and earnest direction of the emotions and desires towards an ideal object, recognised as of the highest excellence, and as rightfully paramount THE IDEALS OF UNBELIEF 171 ^K over all selfish objects of desire. This condition is fulfilled by the Religion of Humanity in an eminent degree, and in as high a sense, as by the supernatural religions even in their best manifestations, and far more so than in any of their others." Ibid. (Utility of Religion), pp. 107-9. The foregoing words explain themselves. They show the narrowness, we should say rather the idiotcy, of human wisdom when it seeks an abstract concep- tion of life and of humanity, while ignoring life itself, and rejecting the human soul. Such a religion may indeed be sufficient for thinkers like Mill, secluded from the world in abstract speculation, but how shall the people accept and understand it ? — the people, a living organism held in communion only by living sentiment and conscience, and repelled by ab- stractions and generalities. In the people, such a religion, if it bore fruit at all, would bear fruit in rever- sion to paganism. The people — which we cannot conceive detached from Nature — if it forgot the faith of its fathers, would again personify the idea, either of the universe, resolving it into separate forces, or of that humanity which stands as a binding spiritual principle, resolving it also into its representative spiritual forces ; and there would result so many false gods instead of one true God. It cannot be that we are condemned to suffer this? A ^ ,^ - i ^ .r^" -»•*. /. lA A: > *• A OM^ ^ (Mx fd .4%^ •u^ c^^-i^ u^^ /VS 'lA^^^ 5^ h~^^ y^^- ■ THE NEW RELIGION AND THE NEW MARRIAGE We are told that qu£ religion is dra wing to i js end , that a new faith will_repkce TtTtTie dawn of which is on the point of appearing. God grant that this may be delayed, and that, if it must come, it may not be ior long! For it will not be ^ a time o f enlighten- ment, but_oi larkness. "- — ' The ancient faith contains all that human nature has of sincerity — the sincerity of direct sensations and conscience, the sincerity which, from the depths of our spiritual nature, corresponds to the words of divine revelation. This is a living truth, and its roots are sunken in the souls of all. Of it was it said : " Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice." The ancient faith was founded on the consciousness of every man of a living soul which is immortal and one, a living soul he confounds neither with Nature nor with humanity. By this he knows himself before God and before his fellow-men, by this he wishes to live eternally. By this he enters into the free alliance of love with others, and, as he lives in his soul, so he answers for it himself. Through this the existence of his Creator is revealed as simply as his own life, and by this simple feeling, independently of reason, he maintains his faith. The prophets of a new religion appear. Some laugh at the ancient faith, and would destroy it, 172 THE NEW RELIGION AND THE NEW MARRIAGE 173 without the will to create anew. Others appear more serious ; they seek supreme wisdom, and strive to impose on us a wisdom of their own. Each offers us his own conception of truth, his favourite system of religion, for all apprehend the necessity of religion, and each would create one himself How pitiable are these creations! They lack the power to draw the living soul and inspire it with a living idea, for not one of them sets the living spirit of God in the centre of his faith. In recent times many various systems have ap- peared from the pens of philosophers, each at will attempting to construct for humanity a faith without God. Each would constitute his system on the basis of reason, by its nature an absurdity. For human reason in a straight path, ignoring and rejecting no facts of Nature or of the human soul, can never eliminate the idea of God. The true source of atheism is not in the mind but in the heart, for, as the prophet said, "The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God." In the heart, that is, in the will, is the source of all error, however reason may seek to explain it. Error is born by the desire of the heart for full freedom, by rebellion against the commandments, and against Him who is the beginning and the end of all command- ments. To free oneself of the commandments, there is no other path than to reject their supreme authority, and to replace it by the authority of self The oldest of human histories is repeated from generation to generation, " Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil." This has been the source of atheism from immemorial time. It is wonderful, indeed, how reason deceives itself 174 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN I Without God It seems that there can be no reh'gion, yet ^such a reh'gion is proclaimed by atheists. They say, ' In the place of these outworn tales of God let us put the truth. God is nowhere visible, while Nature and humanity are actual facts. Humanity is not only a fact, it is a force able, by the paths of reason and experience, to attain in the course of centuries unimaginable perfection. This idea of progression contains such internal force and profundity that it is enough to compensate man for religious sentiment, and to bind the race in the universal religion of human- ity." Is this not the Biblical, " Ye shall be as gods " ? Such are the doctrines of modern Positivist science, and of the so-called Utilitarianism. From another side appears the celebrated apostle of the Tubingen school, the pillar of Biblical criticism, who lived to an old age in denial of the historic foundation of Christianity. This is Dr Strauss, the author of the " Life of Jesus " ; the author of "The Old and the New Religion," in which he himself says he has made his confession, and given to the world the result of all his learned labours and philosophical speculations on God, on Nature, and on humanity. In youth, in the "Life of Jesus," he undertook, with some respect and caution, the analysis of those facts consecrated by the traditional belief of man, touching with ten- derness the fundamental ideas of faith. In this work is seen a remnant of respect for God. But later we find a furious irritation against the Godhead, as a false and pernicious fable which has corrupted the minds of mankind. But while rejecting God, by a strange incon- THE NEW RELIGION AND THE NEW MARRIAGE 175 sistency of thought, he does not abandon the religious feeling. In himself he feels the necessity, and affirms the existence, of religious devotion. What is the object of this devotion, which at the same time has power to possess and inspire the soul? Not a personal divinity which exists not, but the world {Universuni) which constitutes the source of all good and power — which exists by the law of pure reason. We demand, he says, for this Universe the same devout feeling as a good man of the ancient faith cherished towards God. What is this Universe, and what its spiritual ele- ment? Answering that question, Strauss reveals himself as a disciple of the Positivist philosophy, and of the new materialism. The doctrine of Kant and of Laplace on the exclusive activity of mechanical forces in the planetary system, he applies absolutely to all the phenomena of animal and spiritual life ; he regards the soul of man as nothing better than the result of the complex interaction of mechanical forces. The soul as a spiritual essence Strauss rejects. As might be expected, he accepts triumphantly the theories of Darwin on the Origin of Species, limit- ing not their application to the phenomena of the external world, but extending them capriciously to all the manifestations of life. The imperfection and inconsistency of Darwin's reasonings do not alarm him in the least. All doubt is eliminated by his new religion, by faith in his own hypothesis, incom- patible, he tells us, with the existence of God. It matters not that such abstract hypotheses as spon- taneous generation remain unproven. He cannot say how or when, but without doubt some day they 176 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN will be proven. In considering the origin of man, he does not trouble to explain and reconcile the origin of his intellectual powers, his moral ideas, and his aesthetic conceptions. All is explained by the magic words, " Natural Selection." Surely, if this capricious infatuation with theory constitutes the new religion, that religion is nothing better than a new superstition. The doctrine of Darwin could not have appeared at a time more opportune for the prophets of the new religion. It enlightened them with a new light, it gave them the keystone which they sought to crown the vault of their system. They seized upon his teaching with eagerness, and then proclaimed that the ancient faith was finally overthrown and annihilated. From every point they hastened to apply his principles to all the phenomena of social life, deducing conclusions of which, it may be, Darwin never dreamed. As often happens, the pupils out-distanced the master, and the day is near when they will condemn him as a reactionary. Meantime, the doctrines of Darwin, restricted in application to the facts from which they sprang, hardly justify those apprehensions for the safety of the faith which they awakened in its jealous ad- herents. The system of Galileo, the theories of Newton, all new discoveries in geological science, in their day awakened more agitation and fear ; yet the faith of believers has in no way suffered. So will it be with the teachings of Darwin. As yet, these are not recognised as confirmed by science, and the first enthusiasm they awakened is beginning to wane. They are accepted without reserve only by 1 THE NEW RELIGION AND THE NEW MARRIAGE 1 77 the dii minorum gentium. Leading men of science are beginning to learn that these doctrines in reality are hypotheses, more or less in accord with prob- ability, but still unconfirmed by sufficient data ; and that the conclusions drawn by the illustrious scholar from his numerous experiments, in reality are bold and ingenious generalisations, which leave a great field for question and incertitude. These propositions, exalted to the dignity of absolute truth, are echoed by the masses as verbum magistri^ they are catch-words on the lips of the base chatterers of Liberalism, and, on the other hand, they lend to many serious minds a basis for new intellectual combinations. Who has not Darwin on his lips to-day? Who does not play with the phrases, Natural Selection, Sexual Selection, the Struggle for Existence? The discoveries of Darwin have forced not only superficial thinkers, but earnest and studious men, to make strange leaps in their reasoning, and to make still stranger speeches, which, to a healthy judgment, seem no- thing better than fantasy or madness. This is the more common among those who wish, with the aid of Darwin*s teaching, to construct or perfect a system of cosmology independent of God. But above all, the doctrines of Darwin are most useful to the reasoning of modern materialism. Man, in the opinion of Darwin, has wrongly appropriated to himself and to his soul a privileged position in the universe ; of the animal creation he fancies himself alone under the immediate and personal direction of divinity. This, says Darwin, is a "pernicious idea." Like every other animal, man is nothing more than M f 178 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN a product of the successive and illimitable evolution of natural forms of animal life. To those who wish to do so, it is easy to conclude from this that there is no God and no immortal soul. It follows, further, from the teaching of Darwin, that all existing forms of life have sprung — as all their successors will spring — from the eternal and unceasing progression of matter, one form evolving another, with fresh develop- ments and proper instruments to supply its needs. To those who are so inclined, it is easy to deduce from this that creative power is constituted by this eternal movement, and is inherent in matter which therefore holds in itself the future of Nature and humanity, being capable of indefinite progress and perfection ; hence there is no need to seek an external ultimate creative power, or a Providence directing the universe and humanity. It may easily be conceived how such reasoning accords with the tastes of those who have rejected God, and put their faith in humanity. But it is incredible that common-sense, rejecting a first cause, can believe in the eternity of matter, and trust that movement alone, although through eternal time, is capable of producing all that may be conceived. It will be an unhappy time — if ever it should come — when the new cult of humanity shall dominate the world. The personality of man at once would lose its value, and the moral barriers existing against violence and arbitrary power would soon be destroyed. In the name of a doctrine, for the attainment of an imaginary end — the perfection of the race — will be sacrificed without scruple the most sacred privileges of personal freedom. Conscience will not be considered, , I THE NEW RELIGION AND THE NEW MARRIAGE 179 for the very idea will be denied. Our present- day reformers, trained in a school of conceptions, ideas, and sentiments which they afterwards abjure, are in no state to realise the terrible emptiness which the moral world will present when these ideas shall have been destroyed. Whatever the infatuation of modern lawgivers, modern administrators, and modern authority, over all nevertheless inevitably hangs, though sometimes unconsciously, the concep- tion of a human personality which cannot be crushed as a worm. This conception is rooted in the know- ledge that every man has a living soul, one, indivis- ible and immortal, enjoying, therefore, an absolute existence which cannot be destroyed by any human power. Hence there is no criminal who, in the midst of his crime, does not look on the living soul he injures with terror and respect. Uproot this senti- ment, and what will be the fate of our legislation, our government, our social life? The friends of individual freedom strangely deceive themselves when in its name they join the rising cult of humanity. But happily we may hope that the dawn promised us in the future by the humanist philosophy will never be revealed to mankind, or, at least, will not be revealed to all, or for long. Of the consequence of the new doctrines on religion and life we may judge by some of their political applications indicated from time to time. Here is a specimen of the application of Darwinism to the sphere of practical legislation. A favourite speculation of Darwin treats of the benefit to humanity of restrictions on the liberty of marriage. In the beginning of his treatise Darwin explains that one of the essential elements i8o REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN of Christianity is the personal responsibility of men for their souls and their independence in the spiritual sphere from one another. In consequence of this it is assumed that men have a right to dispose, on their own responsibility, of their bodies also. This right, according to Darwin, must give way to the action of the new law which he has discovered, the so-called doctrine of evolution. Man has a right to dispose of his body and to seek the satisfaction of his bodily needs only in so far as is compatible with the normal development of the race. Thus in measure as the science o f Darwinism, from its obser- vations of material life, makes new generalisations from the law of evolution, legislation must restrict^ the personal freedom of man even in the satisfaction ) of his organic needs. After citing statistics, gathered from two or three learned works on the physiological influence of heredity on the human organism, Darwin declares that in England one in every ^vq hundred is insane, that this insanity proceeds in many cases from hereditary disposition, transmitted by marriage and birth, and that the number of lunatics increases in geometrical progression. Thus humanity is threatened with the infinite spread of a n evil against which measures must be taken. LQur author then proposes the rigorous restriction of the liberty of the marriage contr^x;^^] ^^ ^^ necessary, he tells us, to improve and strengthen the physical organism in the human race, and for this end we must take artificial measures to compensate for the weakening of the forces of natural selection. Only with such conditions, we are assured, is human progress possible. Mens sana in corpore THE NEW RELIGION AND THE NEW MARRIAGE i8i sano. The triumphs of the medical art in this matter are not of general advantage, but a general evil. Darwin has no doubt that the level of health in contemporary society has become lowered to an alarming extent, and that medical art, by sustaining the weaker organisms, only increases the evil for future generations. It is necessary, he tells us, to lessen the number of the weak in conflict with the strong in the struggle for existence. The following are the means by which Darwii proposes that legislation shall attain this end^ The legal obstacles to marriage, which now exist, shall remain in force. In addition, the law shall, in the first placey recognise the appearance in one of the parties of certain diseases as cause for obligatory di vorc e. What are these diseases? Darwin gives a long list of ailments transmitted by heredity ; we find there diseases of the lungs, of the stomach, of the liver, gout, scrofula, rheumatism, and others ; so that every married person who does not enjoy herculean health must tremble daily for the security of the marriage contract, with all the more reason because its dissolution would accord with the interests of the State, or, we should rather say, with the interests of mankind. That Darwin had in view the institution of an inquisitorial process, we must assume, because, i n the second place, he propo ses to e stablish a general system nf m(^^irQl incpf^r?ir>n fr> search for the diseases mentioned above, on the model of the German system of testing the fitness of recruits. Darwin proposes to establish the following rule. No one may contract marriage without pro- ducing evidence that he has never suffered from l82 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN insanity. But that is not enough. He must pro- duce an untainted pedigree — that is, he must prove that his parents, and even his most distant relations in ascendant and collateral lines, have never suffered from such complaints. All this is necessary, that among the mass the capacity for happiness may be augmented by the extermination of disease — the chief obstacle to happiness. Is it possible to establish such restrictions? asks Darwin, and answers. Of course. Restrictions of a similar nature already exist in the marriage laws of many countries. As evidence of this, he adduces three pages of examples of the different restrictive laws, mostly from barbarous countries, citing indiscrim- inately the regulations of Prussia, Siam, China, and Madagascar, even of the Ostiaks and Tunguses. If we may judge by appearance, he is pleased by every restriction of marriage, and every facility for divorce. He ends his dissertation without considering the simple question. What end will be served by legal restrictions on marriage, when it will be impossible to prevent natural unions with the same effect in the birth of children? It may be, indeed, this question has occurred to the author ; if so, he has found a reply, which he gives, in the example of Japan, where prostitution is not only tolerated, but even protected by the State, as a means of pre- venting an undue increase of population. Thus reasons the herald of Darwinism. It is plain that to him the fundamental law of life is the \ presentation of the strong and the extirpation of tJie^^ weak. And apparently he would establish this principle as a law of civil society. It is a strange THE NEW RELIGION AND THE NEW MARRIAGE 183 specimen of the infatuation of a scholar with a principle discovered by himself. The legislator of a future society is to accept such ideas as these, and to acknowledge in life and progress no other motives than the interests of physiology — of moral factors he will not even dream. To him all organisms, weak and strong, are numbers, abstract quantities, for the purpose of mathematical calcu- lation. He will not ask himself the question. Will the strong be stronger for having destroyed the weak? He knows not the truth that all strength grows in action, experience, and practice ; that the strong will have no occasion to prove and develop their strength when there shall be no weak who re- quire assistance and protection ; and that the weakest, trained in favourable conditions, may become strong, and be capable of transmitting their strength to future generations. And lastly, will the victors in the struggle of nature be capable of ministering to the perfection of the race, if their strength be sustained by a mechanical process at the expense of the weak? -f .£ ^ /M^ yt f. /)MtA^'/^/c^'V--'''-^-<^^^^' )^ 6^./u^.-^<4 (;^AS\^mjm^ THE SPIRITUAL LIFE 185 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE I How precious are the old institutions, the old traditions, the old customs ! The people guards them as the ark of the covenant of its forefathers. But how often has history shown that popular governments do not value but regard them as an old garment of which they must be rid. Rulers condemn them without mercy, or re-cast them in new forms, and expect a new spirit to animate them at once. Their expectations are seldom ful- filled. The old institutions are precious and indis- pensable because they have had their origin not in invention but in the life of the past ; they are con- secrated in the minds of the people by that high authority which history alone can give. This autho- rity cannot be replaced, for its roots rest in that unconscious part of our being where the moral principles are firmly set. It is vain to suppose that the sanction of history can be replaced in the minds of the people by the spirit of an institution newly founded. Few individuals acquire sentiments of rever- ence through reason, or find in reason the source of inspiration and faith. Such sentiments remain in- accessible to the mass; if we wish to inspire them from without we fail, and awaken false and fantastic ideas. The masses assimilate ideas only through direct senti- 184 \ ment, which is educated and strengthened by history, \ and transmitted from father to son, from generation A to generation. These traditions may be destroyed : ' to revive them is impossible. Often in the depths of the old institutions there is embodied some profoundly true idea which springs directly from the spirit of the people. Although such inspiring idea is sometimes hard to recognise through the multitude of forms, excrescences, and veils which have lost to-day their primitive significance, yet the masses apprehend it by instinct, and firmly cling to their institution by its associated forms. They cherish their institution with its excrescences, some- times ugly and often objectless, because their instinct is to guard the hidden germs of truth against shallow attack. These germs are all the more precious because they symbolise the immemorial needs of the soul, protecting the truth hidden in their depths. What if the forms that invest the institutions of the people are rude, the product of rude customs, of a rude temper, these are phenomena temporary and accidental. When manners and customs are softened, the forms themselves also are ennobled and inspired. Purify the mind, elevate the spirit, enlighten the ideas of the people, and the rude forms disappear, making way for others more perfect, until all are simple and pure. This the reformers of the people ignore when they rave over the rudeness of form, and the abuses of the ancient institutions. Engaged with ceremonies and forms alone, they neglect the spirit of the institution, which they would destroy altogether, seeing there no- thing but rudeness and ceremonial superstition. They i86 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN know that they have outlived the form, but they forget the millions to whom, by the state of their spiritual development, the spirit is accessible only through rude ceremonial. Destroy this ceremonial, and the people will think its institution destroyed, and lose, it may be for ever, the occasion of learning aright the ancient ideas it symbolises. Would it not be well to begin reform from the inside, to enlighten the spirit of the people, to inspire it with thought, to purify and enrich its moral and intellectual life ? Then the fundamental idea would be saved, the life of the people would be spared, and the rude forms themselves would be transfigured in the new. I quote the following passages from Carlyle: " Great truly is the Actual j is the Thing that has rescued itself from the bottomless deeps of theory and possibility, and stands there as a definite indisputable Fact, whereby men do work and live or once did so. Wisely shall men cleave to that while it will endure j and quit it with regret, when it gives way under them. Rash enthusiast of Change, beware ! Hast thou well considered all that Habit does in this life of ours j how all Knowledge and all Practice hang wondrous over infinite abysses of the Unknown, Impracticable ; and our whole being is an infinite abyss, overreached by Habit, as by a thin Earth-rind, laboriously built together ? " Herein too, in this its System of Habits, acquired, retained how you will, lies the true Law-Code and Constitution of a Society j the only Code, though an unwritten one, which it can in no wise disohty. The thing we call written Code, Constitution, Form of Government, and the like, what is it but some miniature image, and solemnly expressed summary of this unwritten Code ? // — or rather, also, is not j but only should be, and always tends to be ! In which latter discrepancy lies struggle wthout end ? " — " The French Revolution," vol. i. p. 46. " Where thou findest a Lie that is oppressing thee, extinguish it. Lies exist there only to be extinguished j they wait and cry earnestly THE SPIRITUAL LIFE 187 f* for extinction. Think well, meanwhile, in what spirit thou wilt do it : not with hatred, with headlong selfish violence j but in clear- ness of heart, with holy zeal, gently, almost with pity. Thou wouldst not replace such extinct Lie by a new Lie, which a new Injustice of thy own were ; the parent of still other Lies ? Where- by the latter end of that business were worse than the beginning." — Jbid.y p. 47. II An eternal struggle is waged in the cause of freedom in the world of human institutions and human Clations. But where shall we find this freedom if )t in the human soul? Everywhere reason arms against the old authority, seeking to overthrow it, ostensibly in the name of freedom, in reality to replace it with new authorities of the minute, constituted yesterday, and doomed to-morrow to give way in turn. The modern champion of reason and liberty looks with contempt on the orthodox believers who cling to the faith transmitted by their fathers and forefathers, and remain faithful to tradi- tion, but he himself has evolved what he considers elemental convictions on the Church, and on the chief objects of the spiritual life. He laughs at the pious sentiments of the churchman, and condemns them as superstition. Yet himself he is filled with pious terror of the so-called " public opinion " : is this not a superstition still greater? To us our past is dear: we respect our history. He ridicules this, he despises the past, and believes only in the present ; but he cannot explain in what way his adoration of the present is better than the sentiment which he reviles. He will say, " Cast away the yoke of the i88 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN law, break the immemorial chains of tradition, and you will be free." But what is freedom, when the present is set up as a law, oppressing us with a yoke heavier than before, when instead of the inspired and infallible scriptures of which we are to be deprived, we are bidden to believe in the infallibility of the opinions of the crowd, and to find in the majority of voices the unerring and unanswerable words of truth ? Ill Only fools have clear conceptions of everything. The most cherished ideas of the human mind are found in the depths and in twilight : around these confused ideas which we cannot classify revolve clear thoughts, extending, developing, and becoming ele- vated. If this deeper mental plane were to be taken away, there would remain but geometricians and intelligent animals ; even the exact sciences would lose their present grandeur, which depends upon a hidden correlation with eternal truths, of which we catch a glimpse only at rare moments. Mystery is the most precious possession of man- kind. Not in vain did Plato teach that all below is but a weak image of the order reigning above. It may be, indeed, that the grandest function of the loveliness we see is the awakening of desire for a higher loveliness we see not ; and that the enchantment of great poets springs less from the pictures they paint than from the distant echoes they awaken from the invisible world. THE SPIRITUAL LIFE 189 K <> IV Life, the springtime of youth, of passion, and of aspiration ; life, full of pleasure ; life, in the eternal sunlight, plunges man in dreams which he would never surrender — dreams with enchanting visions and indescribable joy. But these dreams must be broken by sorrow, anxiety, and disenchantment, the loss of happiness and of justice. The sun must vanish — the night, with all its terrors, draw near. But in the midst of this night, in the firmament appear to the troubled soul, in all their mysterious beauty, the heavenly stars which it saw not while the sunlight shone. Mystery embraces and calms the troubled soul ; the stars of childhood and youth appear — the simplicity of early sensations, the counsel and caresses of disinterested parental love, the lessons of reverence of God and of duty — all that eternity has made innate in man, all that has nourished, taught, and enlightened him at the begin- ning of life. It was necessary that the soul should be plunged into the darkness of night for the heavenly stars to be revealed out of the depths of the past. In his celebrated work Psyche^ Carus says that the key to comprehension of the conscious life lies in the sphere of the unconscious. He traces the correlation of the conscious and unconscious in human life, with many profound reflections. The divine in us — what I90 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN we call the soul — he says, is not something intermit- tent or immovable, but incessantly changes form in a steady process of development, destruction, and reformation. Each phenomenon is an extension or development of the past, and contains the promise of future development The conscious life of man is decomposed into separate moments of time ; it has but an indistinct apprehension of its existence in the past and its prospects in the future ; while the present escapes it, for hardly is it born before it mingles with the past. The reduction of all these moments to unity, the consciousness of the present — that is, the determining of a distinct limit between the past and the future, is feasible only in the domain of unconsciousness, where there is no time, but eternity. The famous myths of Epimetheus and Prometheus have a profound meaning, and it was not without reason that the Greek wisdom embodied therein its conception of the higher de- velopment of humanity. All organic life recalls to us these conflicting sides of the creative idea in the domain of unconsciousness. Even in the vegetable and animal worlds each impulse or form reminds us of something related to the past, and foretells to us something to be formed, and to appear in the future. The more we think on the nature of this phenomenon, the more are we persuaded that all that in the conscious life we denominate memory, foresight, or fore- knowledge, serves but as a pale reflection of the exactitude with which they exist in the unconscious life. Carus examines certain cases where the conscious THE SPIRITUAL LIFE 19X life has been suddenly interrupted, and absorbed in the domain of the unconscious. Nothing is more remarkable, he says, than the sudden and involun- tary apparition in our souls of images which have long disappeared, yet which are preserved in the depths of the unconscious soul. Ideas of men, of objects, of places, even our peculiar feelings and sensa- tions, which in the course of long years seem to have vanished, suddenly awaken into life, and prove that in reality they were not lost at all. There have been some remarkable instances in which consciousness, in a moment, embraced a whole life with all its events. A case is known of a certain Englishman who was subjected to the strong action of opium : once, in the fierce agitation which precedes the complete prostration of the senses, he suddenly saw a picture of his former life with all its events and sensations. A similar experience was that of a girl who had fallen into the water, the moment before complete loss of consciousness. Carus gives no details, or references to evidence of the cases cited ; but all have heard such cases in more or less confused forms. The following, however, is the unique, curious, and fully authenti- cated account of such an occurrence given by the person chiefly concerned. This happened with the English Admiral Beaufort, who, when a young man, fell out of a boat at Portsmouth, and, not knowing how to swim, sank to the bottom. He was taken from the water, and afterwards, at the request of the well-known Dr Wollaston, recounted the strange history of his experiences. After describing the THE SPIRITUAL LIFE 193 192 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN circumstances of the accident he continues to the following effect: « What I have told you so far is based on confused memories of my own, and on the testimony of eye-witnesses j for a drowning man is, of course, entirely absorbed in the consciousness of his own peril land the struggle between hope and despair. For all which happened immediately afterwards, however, I can vouch with a good conscience, for there took place in my mind a revolution so sudden, and so extraordinary, that all the details have remained deeply impressed upon my memory with a freshness and distinct- ness as complete as if all had happened yesterday. From the moment I ceased to move (which occurred, I suppose, after com- plete suffocation), the violent sensations were superseded by a feeling of perfect calm and tranquillity, a state which one might perhaps describe as one of apathy, but yet not an attitude of submission to fate. I felt no pain of any kind, nor did I think any longer of either peril or rescue ; on the contrary, the sensation was rather agreeable, resembling the languor which precedes sleep after some fatiguing physical exertion. My senses were paralysed. The opposite, how- ever, was the case as regards my mind, the activity of which increased to an extent which entirely defies description, thought following thought with such rapidity that not only would it be impossible for me to describe what happened, but nobody, unless he should have passed through a similar experience, could form an idea of what I felt. « I still recall with the greatest distinctness the course of these thoughts, beginning with the accident which had just happened, the awkwardness to which it had been due, the panic that followed (I had seen men jumping into the water immediately after me), the effect which the event would produce upon the mind ot my tender father, the announcement of the terrible news to my family, and a thousand other circumstances of my private life. Such was the first sequence of my thoughts. After this the circle of my ideas began to grow wider : first, our last voyage came back to my memory i then the first of our campaigns, with the ship- wreck that occurred on that occasion j then my school-life, its successes, all its blunders, the follies, the boyish tricks, the little adventures of the time, and so on, always receding further. In this way all the experiences of my life unfolded themselves in my memory in an order opposite to that in which they had occurred, not, however, merely in general outline, as I have given them here, but like living pictures, with their most circumstantial features and details. In one word, the whole history of^my life unrolled itself before me as in a panorama, and in recognising each event, I was able even to discern its character, to think of its cause and effect. But what is most remarkable is that almost all the most trivial facts, which I had long forgotten, were revived in my mind with such precision and accuracy, that it seemed as if they had just happened. Does not this prove the infinite power of the memory ? Does it not prove, that one day we will awaken in another world in possession of a complete recollection of all that we have passed through in this, and that we shall ha've to contemplate our former life from beginning to end ? And, on the other hand, does not all this justify also the belief that death is merely a modification of our being which continues to exist without any real interruption or break in its continuity? However that may be, what is extremely notewothy is the fact that all the thoughts passing before my soul in such great number were turned toward the past. I had been educated in the principles of religion ; my ideas regarding our future life and the fears and hopes insepar- ably connected with those ideas had undergone no modification, and at any other time, therefore, the probability of an imminent peril would have sufficed to produce in me the most terrible emotion j but in that indescribable moment, although fully con- vinced that I had passed the line separating me from eternity, I had not a single thought for the future : I was entirely absorbed in the past. I am not able at present to estimate exactly the time occupied by the passing of this torrent of ideas before my mind, or, rather, during what fraction of time these recollections occurred, but this much is certain, that less than two minutes intervened between the moment in which suffocation began and the moment in which I was taken from the water. " When I began to revive, my sensations were of a totally different nature from those that I had experienced before. Instead of the multitude of clear and precise ideas which had passed before my soul, there was now but one confused thought weighing heavily upon it — namely, the danger and the risk which I had N * I \ 194 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN undergone. While I was drowning there was not the shghtest physical suffering, now the most atrocious pain seemed to rend my entire body ; never since have I had to endure such tortures, although I have been wounded on several occasions, and have had to submit more than once to surgical operations. In one instance, a bullet passed through my lungs ; I spent the whole night on the bridge of the vessel. Believing that a wound m the lungs must be fatal, I had the fullest apprehension of death. But in that moment I felt nothing like that which I underwent during my drowning experience j and when I came to, after swooning, I recovered immediately full consciousness of my position." M A x--> /) ^^^yt^-^ -yKA^t^i C n / ( I THE CHURCH I The more we consider the distinctive ethnical features of religion the more firmly we are convinced how uiiat tainable is^ an union of creeds — by a facti- tious accord in dogma,^— on thrpfmciple of reciprocal concessions in immaterial things. The essential \n religion cannot be expressed on paper, or categori- cally formulated. The most essential, the most persistent, and the most precious things in all religious creeds are as elusive and as insusceptible of definition as varieties of light and shade — as feelings born of an infinite series of emotions, conceptions, and impressions. The essential elements are so involved with the psychical nature of the race, with the principles of their moral philosophy, that it is futile to separate one from the other. The children of different races and different faiths, in many relations may feel as brethren, and gw^ to one another their hands; but to feel themselves worshippers in the same temple, joined in religious communion, they must have lived together long and closely, they must sympathise with the conditions of each other's exist- ence, they must be bound by the most intimate links in the depths of their souls. A German who has lived long in our country may come unconsciously to believe as Russians believe, and to feel at home in 195 196 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN the Russian Church. He becomes one of us, and is in complete spiritual communion with us. But that a Protestant community, situated far away, judging us by report, could, through abstract accord in dogma and ritual, combine with us in one church in organic alliance, and become one with us in spirit, is in- conceivable. No reunion of churches based upon accord in doctrmT' te^-^ yer^ succeeded ; the false principle of such an alliance must sooner or later manifest itself, its fruit is everywhere an increase npt of love but of mutual estrangement and hatred. /May God forbid that we should condemn one (another because of faith ; let each believe as he will ! But each man has a faith which is his refuge, which satisfies his spiritual needs, which he loves; and it is impossible for him when brought into contact with another faith not to feel that it is not his own, that it is inhospitable and cold. Let reason prove, with abstract arguments, that all men pray to one God. Sentiment is repelled by reasoning such as this; sometimes sentiment feels that in a strange church it prays to a strange god. Many will laugh at this sentiment, or condemn it as superstition and fanaticism. They will be wrong. Sentiment is not always delusive, it sometimes ex- presses truth more directly and justly than reason /^The Protestant Church and the Protestant faith Vare cold and inhospitable to Russians. For us to Recognise this faith would be as bitter as death. This is a direct sentiment. But there are many good reasons to justify it. The following is one which especially strikes us by its obviousness. THE CHURCH 197 I In the polemics of theologians, in religious dissen- sions, in the conscience of every man and of every race, one of the greatest questions is that of works. Which is the greater, works or faith? We know that on this question the Latin doctrine differs from the Protestant. In his theological com- positions, the late M. Khomyakoff well explained how deceptive is the scholastic-absolute treatment of this question. Union of faith with works, like identity of words and thought, of deeds and words, is an ideal unattainable by human nature, as all things absolute are unattainable — an ideal eternally troubling and eternally alluring the faithful soul. Faith without works is sterile. Faith opposed to works offends us with the consciousness of internal falsehood ; but in the infinite world of externals around mankind what can work, what can any possible work signify without faith? Prove me thy faith by thy deeds, — a terrible command ! What can a believer answer when his questioner seeks to recognise the faith by the works. If such a question were put by a Protestant to a member of the Orthodox Church, what would the answer be? He could only hang his head. He would feel that he had nothing to show, that all was imperfect and disorderly. But in a minute he might lift his head and say : " We have nothing to show, sinners as we are, yet neither are you beyond reproach. Come to us, live with us, see our faith, study our sentiments, and you will learn to love us. As for our works, you will see them such as they are." From such an answer ninety-nine out of a hundred would turn with a \A\ 198 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN THE CHURCH 199 contemptuous laugh. The truth is that we do not know, and dare not show our works, f ; ^ /| /' It is not so with them. They can show '^^'^^'^Xtheir works, and, to speak the truth, they have much to show— works and institutions existing, and preserved for centuries in perfect order. See, says the Catholic Church, what I mean to the community which hears me and which serves me ; which I created, and which I sustain. Here are works of love, works of faith, apostolic works; here are deeds of martyrdom ; here are regiments of believers, united as one, which I send to the ends of the earth. Is it not plain that grace is in me, and has been in me from the beginning until now? See, says the Protestant Church, I do not tolerate falsehood, deception, or superstition. My works conform to faith, and reason is reconciled with it. I have consecrated labour, human re- lations, and family happiness; by faith I destroy all idleness and superstition; I establish justice, honesty, and social order. I teach daily, and my doctrine accords with life. It educates generations in the performance of honourable work, and in good manners. My teaching renews humanity in virtue and justice. My mission is to destroy with the sword of words and deeds corruption and hypocrisy everywhere. Is it not plain that the grace of God is in me, since I see things from the true standpoint? To the present day Protestants and Catholics contend over the dogmatic signification of works in relation to faith. But in spite of the total contra- diction of their theological doctrines, both set works at the head of their religion. In the Latin Church works are the justification, the redemption, and the witness of grace. The Lutherans regard works, and, at the same time, religion itself, from the practical point of view. Works for them are the end of religion ; they are the touchstone which proves religious and canonical truth, and it is on this point more than on any other that our doctrine differs from the doctrine of Protestantism. It is true that these doctrines do not constitute a dogma of the Lutheran Church, but they pervade its teach- ing. Beyond all dispute they have an important practical value for this world ; and therefore many would set up the Protestant Church as a model and an ideal for us. But the Russian, in the depths of a believing soul, will never accept such a view. " Godli- ness is profitable unto all things," says the apostle, but utility is hardly one of its natural attributes. The Russians, as others, know that they ought to live by religion, and feel how ill their lives accord with their beliefs ; but the essence, the end of their faith is not the practical life, but the salvation of their souls, and with the love of religion they seek to embrace all, from the just man who lives accord- ing to his faith, to the thief, who, his works notwith- standing, would be pardoned in an instant. This practical basis of Protestantism is nowhere shown more plainly than in the Anglican Church, and in the religious spirit of the English people. It accords with the character of the nation as formed by history to direct all thought and action to prac- tical aims, steadfastly and tenaciously pursuing ! 200 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN THE CHURCH 20I success, and in all things taking those paths and measures which are short and sure. This innate tendency must seek a moral base, and must construct a system of morals; and it is natural that these moral principles shall seek a sanction in a religious spirit corresponding to their nature. Religion indisputably consecrates the moral principle of activity ; its precepts teach us how to live and act ; it demands laborious- ness, honesty, and justice. This no one will dispute. But, in the practical consideration of religion, we pass directly to the question : What of the faith of those who live in idleness, who are dishonest and false, corrupt, and disorderly, who cannot control their passions ? Such men are heathen, not Christian ; he only is a Christian who lives by the law, and in himself bears witness to its power. This reasoning is logical in appearance. But who has not asked the question : What is the part in the world and in the Church of the wanton and dishonest, who, in the words of Christ, shall take a higher place in the kingdom of heaven than the just according to the law? It would be too much to suppose that such religious opinions constitute a positive formula of the Church of England. Such a formula would be a direct negation of the precepts of the Evangel. But such is precisely the spirit of religion among the most zealous and conscientious representatives of the so-called National Established Church, which they defend and extol as the first bulwark of the State, and as the last expression of the national genius. In English literature, both religious and profane, this view is expressed, sometimes in >^\ trenchant words which would excite doubt and almost terror in the mind of a Russian reader. In a work remarkable for depth and clearness of thought, written evidently by a believer deeply and jealously attached to his Church, the following remarks occur upon religion : — "Some forms of religion are distinctly unfavourable to a sense of social duty. Others have simply no relation to it whatever, and of those which favour it (as is the case in various degrees with every form of Christianity) some promote it far more powerfully than others. I should say that those which promote it most power- fully are those of which the central figure is an infinitely wise and powerful Legislator whose own nature is confessedly inscrutable to man, but who has made the world as it is for a prudent, steady, hard, enduring race of people, who are neither fools nor cowards, who have no particular love for those who are, who distinctly know what they want, and are determined to use all lawful means to get it. Some such religion as this is the unspoken deeply-rooted con- viction of the solid, established part of the English nation. They form an anvil which has worn out a good many hammers, and will wear out a good many more, enthusiasts and humanitarians not- withstanding.'' — Stephen (Sir James F.), "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," pp. 305-6. London, 1873. Such is the conception of religion held by a con- vinced Anglican churchman. The passage I have quoted is a direct negation of the words of the Evangel, for it says: Happy are the strong and powerful, for they shall possess the kingdom ; to which we reply : Yes, the kingdom of the earth, but not the kingdom of heaven. The author makes no such limitation ; he sees no distinction between the kingdom of heaven and the kingdom of earth. What a terrible and despairing doctrine! Such tendencies of religious thought were indisput- 202 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN ably of the greatest practical value in Protestant coun- tries, especially in England ; and it cannot be denied that Protestantism was a strong and beneficent in- fluence towards social development among the peoples who accepted it, and with whose nature it accorded. But is it not plain that certain races, by their nature, could never accept or submit to it, because they do not find in this doctrine of Protestantism the vital principle of religion? They see not unity but a duality of the religious conscience ; not the living truth, but a factitious composition of speculation and falsehood. "Woe to the weak and fallen! Woe to the vanquished ! " Truly in this life this is inevitable truth, and the voice of worldly wisdom cries to us: Fight, get and hold by force if you would live — in this world there is no place for the weak. But the soul will no more allow the absolute and dog- matic application of this rule to religion than it will accept the terrible Calvinist doctrine that some are predestined from eternity to virtue, to glory, to salvation, and to happiness ; while others, no matter what their lives may be, are condemned from eternity to the abyss of despair and eternal torment. It is terrible to read those English writers who sound with special emphasis this chord of English Protestantism. Carlyle, for instance, is seized with rapturous emotion through the strength and talent of the conqueror, while he despises the conquered. He honours his strong men as the incarnation of Godhead, and treats with thin, contemptuous irony the weak and unhappy, the incapable and the fallen, crushed by the triumphal chariot of the conqueror. His heroes personify the idea of light and order in the THE CHURCH 203 1^ / darkness and disorder of the cosmic chaos ; they create their own universe ; all whom they meet on their path who refuse to submit and to serve, yet have not the strength to resist, are justly and utterly destroyed. Carlyle's extraordinary talents infatuate the reader, but it is painful to read his historical writings, and see the name of God invoked in the struggle of the strong with the weak. The pagans of the classic age, with better sense, sent, by the chariot of the conqueror, a jester, who represented the moral principle, pursuing with his irony, not the conquered but the conqueror himself Most painful of all is it to read Froude, the cele- brated historian of the English Reformation, and the best representative among historians of the principles of the English people in religion and in politics. Carlyle, at least, is a poet, while Froude speaks in the tranquil tones of the historian, loves dialectics, and knows no iniquity which he cannot justify by dialectics in the interest of a favourite idea. There is no hypocrisy which he does not glorify as truth in his justification of the Reformation and of its protagonists. Un- shakeable and fanatical, he holds to the principles of Anglican orthodoxy, the base of which he declares is the recognition of social duty, devotion to the political idea and to the law, and the implacable chastisement of vice and crime and idleness, and all that is designated the betrayal of duty. In human affairs, all this is excellent; but can we make such principles the beginning and end of religion, when we think how the words, duty, law, vice, and crime are variously interpreted day by day, and that men to-day call justice and courage what to-morrow may 204 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN be condemned as falsehood and crime. For charity and compassion the religion of Froude has no place. How can he reconcile charity with indignation for vice and crime, for the violation of the law ? Speak- ing of the terrible punishments sometimes endured by the innocent as well as the guilty, this stern judge of human affairs eulogises his compatriots as a strong and severe people who know no pity where there is no legal cause for pity, and who, on the contrary, are filled with a sacred and solemn horror of crime, a sentiment which, as it develops in the soul, of necessity hardens it, and results in forming an iron character. The man of severe morality is inclined to compassion only when the disposition to good remains in conflict with evil : in cases of total corruption compassion is unjusti- fiable, and is conceivable only when in our hearts we confound crime with misfortune. Such, in effect, are the sentiments of Froude. How the author would have despised us Russians, in whose minds there actually is such confusion, and who from time immemorial have called the culprit unfortunate {nestchastnut). The characters of churches, as the characters of men, and the characters of races, have their merits and de- fects. The merits of Protestantism are well explained by the history of the German and Anglo-Saxon races. The spirit of Puritanism has created the Britain of the present day. The principle of Protestantism gave to Germany strength, and discipline, and unity. Yet we see with this some defects and tendencies with which we cannot sympathise. As every spiritual force, Protestantism is most inclined to fall where it seeks - THE CHURCH 205 its firmest spiritual foundation. In aspiring to absolute truth, to the purifying of faith and its realisation in life, it is over-confident of its own righteousness, it is infatuated to idolatry with its justice, and it despises the strange faith which temporises with untruth. Thence springs the danger of hypocrisy and of Pharisaical pride. And, indeed, how often do we hear with bitterness from the Protestant world that hypocrisy is the plague of rigorous Lutheranism ! On the other hand, while beginning by preaching tolera- tion, and liberty of thought and belief. Protestantism, in its ultimate development, is inclined to fanaticism of a peculiar nature, the fanaticism of the pride of intellect, the fanaticism of a rectitude above all other faiths. Rigid Protestantism treats with con- tempt every faith which appears to it unclean, un- inspired, defiled by the superstition and ritual which it has cast off as the fetters of slaves, the garments of children, the attributes to ignorance. Creating for itself a system of beliefs and ceremonies, it maintains its doctrine as the doctrine of the elect, the enlightened and the rational, and regards all those who hold to the ancient Church as beings of a lower race, who cannot rise to the height of pure reasoning. This contemptuous attitude is expressed unconsciously, but it is only too sensible by the adherents to other faiths. No religion is free from fanaticism, but the height of all absurdity is reached when Lutherans turn to us with such accusations. In spite of the tolerance which is inherent in our national character, we meet, of course, individual cases of exclusiveness and bigotry in religion ; but there never has been, and never can be, anything like to that contempt with 206 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN which rigid Lutherans regard the attributes to our Church, and the qualities of our faith, which to them are incomprehensible, but to us are filled with a deep spiritual significance. II The difference between the social spirit and com- position of the Anglo-Saxon and the Russian races is noticeable nowhere so much as in the Church. In an English church, more than anywhere else, the thought. occurs to the Russian, There are many good things here, yet I am thankful that I was born in Russia. In our churches all social distinctions are laid aside, we surrender our positions in the world and mingle completely in the congregation before the face of God. Our churches for the most part have been built with the money of the people; between rouble and grosh there is no distinction ; in all cases our churches are the work and the appanage of the whole people. The poorest beggar feels, with the greatest noble, that the church, at least, is his. The church is the only place (how happy are we to have one such place !) where the poorest man in rags will not be asked, "Why art thou here, and who art thou ? " It is the only place where the rich may not say to the poor, "Your place is not beside me, but behind." /^ Enter an English church and watch the congrega- f tion. It is devout ; solemn it may be, but it is a Congregation of " ladies^arid gentlemen," each with a place_^ie€ia% reserved ; the rich in separate and embellished pews, like the boxes of an opera-house. We cannot help thinking that this church is merely THE CHURCH 207 a reunion of people in society, and that there is place in it only for what society calls " the respectable." All use their prayer-books, but each has his own, which makes it plain that he wishes to be alone before God, and in no way to sacrifice his individu- ality. It is said that in the last twenty or thirty, years a remarkable change has taken place in this ; the places in the churches are to a great extent free, and access to them is easier than before; but m former times, more particularly in the provinces, the pews were constructed with closed partitions, so that the occupant might pray in peace, alone, and undis- turbed by any neighbour. How plainly these disposi- tions reveal the history of a feudal society, and even the history of the Reformation in England. " Nobility and gentry" lead in all, because they possess and appropriate all. All is bought by conquest, even the right to sit in church. The celebration of divine service is a privilege sold at a fixed price. In England the preferment of clergymen, with right to fixed incomes, is the hereditary right of " patronage," and the power of election to the ministry is the ap- panage either of the local proprietors or of the Crown, by virtue not so much of the rights of the State as of the rights of the feudal possessors. Thus the clergy, appointed independently of the people, and inde- pendent of the people for their maintenance, appear above it as princes placed above their subjects. The offices of the Church are, first of all, a " preferment," an appanage; and, it is shameful to say so, this appanage is the object of traffic. The office of incumbent may be bought for a certain sum, deter- mined by the capitalisation of the income, as in 208 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN our country the positions of attorneys, notaries, and brokers. In any English newspaper you may find a special department for the advertisement of these so-called "preferments," you may see a series of offers of the office of incumbent, with a statement of the income ; the amenities of the position will be praised, the house and its situation described, the price indicated, with the information that the present incumbent is so many years old, and is not likely to enjoy his position long. In London appears a journal [The Church Preferment Register) specially devoted to this traffic, with a detailed description of every office, its amenities and revenue, for the information of those who might buy. We are told that, from the political point of view, every right, personal or social, should be attained by competition alone. This observation may be generally true, but it cannot be applied to the right of praying in church. We must not wonder, then, that the conscience of the people is not satisfied with the constitution of the Church, and that England, the country of an Established State Church, the classic country of theological learning and religious discussion, has become, since the Reformation, the country of dissidence too. The need of religion and the need of prayer in the mass of the people, finding no satisfaction in the Established Church, seek issue in free and independent congrega- tions and in diverse sects. The different sects which flourish in the most insignificant village are innumerable. The Established Church itself is divided into three schools, the so-called High, Low, and Broad Churches, and the partisans of THE CHURCH 2og each have their own churches, and will not enter the churches of others. In the smallest villages, with a settled population of no more than five hundred, three Anglican churches may sometimes be found, and, in addition, three Methodist churches of dif- ferent denominations, distinguished only by verbal subtleties and capricious details, yet cut off from all communion with one another. There will be one chapel for Primitive or Wesleyan Methodists, another for Congregationalists, one for the so-named Bible Christians — these last are also Methodists, who severed their connection some years ago because they opposed the others in believing that those invested in the office of the evangelists ought not to be married. Such a number of churches, large, hand- some, and roomy, may be found in a single village. All these sects are distinguished by peculiarities of doctrine, sometimes very subtle and capricious, or altogether absurd, but, apart from differences of doctrine, all are inspired by a desire for a popular Church, free to all, and many by implacable hatred of the Established Church and of its ministers. In addition to these separate sects, in the midst of the Established Church itself a numerous party has been formed under the name of the Free Church Movement. Individuals and societies procure for simple folk the means of participating in divine ser- vice ; for this purpose they build special churches, and hire buildings, theatres, sheds, and halls. This move- ment has produced a visible reaction in the practice of the Established Church, and has forced it to throw its doors more widely open. But is it not strange that in England the masses have been forced to 268 /REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN our country the positions of attorneys, notaries, and brokers. In any English newspaper you may find a special department for the advertisement of these so-called "preferments," you may see a series of offers of the office of incumbent, with a statement of the income ; the amenities of the position will be praised, the house and its situation described, the price indicated, with the information that the present incumbent is so many years old, and is not likely to enjoy his position long. In London appears a journal {The Church Preferment Register) specially devoted to this traffic, with a detailed description of every office, its amenities and revenue, for the information of those who might buy. We are told that, from the political point of view, every right, personal or social, should be attained by competition alone. This observation may be generally true, but it cannot be applied to the right of praying in church. We must not wonder, then, that the conscience of the people is not satisfied with the constitution of the Church, and that England, the country of an Established State Church, the classic country of theological learning and religious discussion, has become, since the Reformation, the country of dissidence too. The need of religion and the need of prayer in the mass of the people, finding no satisfaction in the Established Church, seek issue in free and independent congrega- tions and in diverse sects. The different sects which flourish in the most insignificant village are innumerable. The Established Church itself is divided into three schools, the so-called High, Low, and Broad Churches, and the partisans of THE CHURCH 209 each have their own churches, and will not enter the churches of others. In the smallest villages, with a settled population of no more than five hundred, three Anglican churches may sometimes be found, and, in addition, three Methodist churches of dif- ferent denominations, distinguished only by verbal subtleties and capricious details, yet cut off from all communion with one another. There will be one chapel for Primitive or Wesleyan Methodists, another for Congregationalists, one for the so-named Bible Christians — these last are also Methodists, who severed their connection some years ago because they opposed the others in believing that those invested in the office of the evangelists ought not to be married. Such a number of churches, large, hand- some, and roomy, may be found in a single village. All these sects are distinguished by peculiarities of doctrine, sometimes very subtle and capricious, or altogether absurd, but, apart from differences of doctrine, all are inspired by a desire for a popular Church, free to all, and many by implacable hatred of the Established Church and of its ministers. In addition to these separate sects, in the midst of the Established Church itself a numerous party has been formed under the name of the Free Church Movement. Individuals and societies procure for simple folk the means of participating in divine ser- vice ; for this purpose they build special churches, and hire buildings, theatres, sheds, and halls. This move- ment has produced a visible reaction in the practice of the Established Church, and has forced it to throw its doors more widely open. But is it not strange that in England the masses have been forced to O < ■ «mi ■ ■ 3IO /REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN THE CHURCH 211 conquer in battle what among us has always been free as the air we breathe? How often do we hear in Russia strange words about our Church from men who have been abroad, who love to judge everything after the manner of strangers ; and, on the other hand, from simple men infatuated with ideals to the estrangement of reahty. These men have no limit to their praise of the Anglican and German Churches, and of the Anglican clergy, and to their condemnation of our Church and our clergy. If we believe them, there all is living activity, while among us all is death, rudeness, or sleep; there is work, here ceremonial and inactivity. It is not surprising that people speak thus. Men judge by appearance. To judge by dress is easy, but much thought and observation are needed to learn the spirit and signifi- cance of things. Men seize on impressions and cling thereto. There are many for whom the first and final factors in creating impressions are external perfection, manner, dexterity, purity, and respecta- bility Judged by this standard, there is much to be admired in the Anglican Church, and much to be lamented in our own. Few of us have not met men of the world, and, unhappily, even ecclesiastics, who exalt the simplicity which they find in religion abroad, and condemn our own for " immaturity." Such judgments are as much to be deplored, as the conduct of a young man who, having spent some time in the fashionable world in the midst of the refinements of a metropolis, returns to the village where he has spent his childhood, and looks with contempt on his modest surroundings, and on the rude and simple manners of his family circle. A By nature we are much inclined to be infatuated with beauty of form, with organisation, with the external perfection of things. Thence springs the passion for imitation, and for transplanting to our soil those foreign institutions which attract us by their external symmetry. But we forget, or remember too late, that those institutions were historically evolved ; they sprang and developed from historical conditions, and are the logical consequence of the past, created of necessity. History cannot be changed or evaded ; and history itself, with its actions, its actors, and its complex polity, is the product of the national spirit, as the history of the individual is the pro- duct of his living soul. The same may be said of all systems of church organisation. Therein all things conform to the spiritual basis whereon they have grown ; too often charmed with the super- structure, we neglect the base ; otherwise, we should not, perhaps, have hesitated to reject this ready-made symmetry, but with gladness should have clung to our old and rough form, or deformity, until such day as our spiritual nature had evolved a new one for us. In all human institutions the spirit is essential : hence we should zealously preserve it from distortion and alloy. From its dawn to the present day our Church has been the church of the people, inspired by love, and all-embracing, without distinction of class. The faith has sustained our peoples in the day of privation and calamity, and one thing only can sustain, strengthen, and regenerate them, and that is faith, the faith of the Church alone. Our people is reproached with ignor- ance in its religion ; its faith, we are told, is defiled — IL 212 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN by superstition ; it suffers from corrupt and wicked practices ; its clergy is rude, inactive, ignorant, and oppressed, without influence on its flocks. In this reproach is much truth, but these evils are in no way essential, but temporary and adventitious. They spring from many circumstances, from political and economic conditions, with the disappearance of which they also will disappear. What then is essential? The love of the people for its Church, the conception of the Church as a common possession, a congrega- tion common in all things, the total absence of social distinctions, the communion of the people with the ministers of the Church, sprung from the people, and differing neither in manner of life, in virtues, nor in failings, who stand and fall with their flocks. This is a soil which would bring forth rich fruits with good cultivation, with less concern for the amelioration of life than the bettering of the soul, with less desire that the number of churches exceed not the needs of the people than that those needs shall not remain unsatisfied. Is it for us to covet through rumour from afar, the Protestant Church and its ministers? May Heaven withhold from us the time when our priests shall be officials, placed above the people as princes above their subjects, in the position of men of society with complex needs and desires, while surrounded on every side by privation and simplicity. . , ^t. » f„. By reflection on life we are convinced that for every man in the course of his spiritual development, the thing most precious and essential is to preserve inviolate the simple inborn feeling of humanity in his human relations, and to nourish truth and freedom THE CHURCH 213 , in his spiritual conceptions and impulses. This is the impregnable fortress which guards and delivers the soul from the onslaught of rank, and from all artificial theories which corrupt insensibly the simple moral sentiment. However precious in some respects these forms and theories may be, when rooted in the soul they corrupt its simple and healthy conceptions and sensations, they confound the notions of truth and untruth, and destroy the roots from which healthy men develop in relation to their fellow-creatures. This is the essential which so often we neglect when seduced by externals. How many men, how many institutions have been perverted in the course of a false development, for these rooted principles in our religious institutions are of all things the most pre- cious. May God prevent them ever being destroyed by the untimely reformation of our Church ! HI We are reproached by Protestants with the for- malism of our service, but when we examine their ritual we continue to prefer our own ; we feel that our service is simple and majestic in its deep, mysteri- ous significance. The office of our priest is so simple, that it needs but pious attention to the words he utters and to the actions he accomplishes: from his lips the sacred words are their own interpretation, their deep and mysterious voices reach the souls of all, and unite our congregations in sentiment and in thought. Thus the simplest, most artless man may without exertion repeat the prayers, feeling in pf^l lliail»IWI» 214 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN communion with the congregation. The Protestant service, with all its external simplicity, demands that the prayers be recited in a certain tone. Only deeply spiritual and very talented preachers may retain their simplicity, the immense majority is driven into that artifice and affectation which we notice first of all things in Protestant churches, and which produce in unaccustomed witnesses a sensation of weariness. When we hear the preacher, with his face turned to a congregation seated on benches, pronounce the prayers, lifting his eyes towards heaven, and crossing his hands conventionally while giving his words an unnatural intonation, we experience a pain- ful sentiment : how uncomfortable, we think, he must be! Still more painful is it when, having ended the service, he ascends the pulpit and begins a long sermon, turning from time to time to drink from a glass of water and to recover breath. Seldom do we hear in these sermons a living word, and then only when the preacher is a man of talent or of rare spiritual nature. For the most part the preachers are the journeymen of the Church, with extraordinary, whining voices, infinite affectation, and vigorous gestures, who turn from side to side, repeating in varying tones conventional phrases. Even when read- ing their sermons, which seldom occurs, they have recourse to gestures, intonations, and intermissions. Sometimes the preacher, pronouncing a few words and phrases, cries out and strikes the pupit to give emphasis to his thoughts. We feel here how faith- fully our Church has been adapted to human nature in excluding sermons from its services. By itself, our whole sendee is the best of sermons, all the more 1 f A I THE CHURCH 215 effective since each hears in it, not the words of man, but the words of God. The ideal of that sermon is to lead to faith and love, according to the Scriptures, and not to awaken emotion in a congregation which has come together for prayer. IV We are sometimes told that ritual is a trivial and secondary consideration. But there are ceremonies and practices which to abandon would be to deny oneself, for they reflect the spiritual life of man, they express his spiritual nature. In differences of ceremony are most clearly expressed the fundamental and deep diversities of spiritual conceptions hidden in the unrecognised domains of the soul. It is this diversity which prevents the communion and assimi- lation of peoples of different race, and forms the elemental cause of distinctions of churches and religions. To deny, from the abstract, cosmopolitan point of view, the action of these attractive and repulsive forces, attributing them to prejudice, would be to deny the affinities {walverwandschaft) which analogously interact in the relations of individual men. How remarkable, for instance, are the diversities in the funeral ceremonies of different peoples, and in their conduct towards the bodies of their dead. The Southerner, the Italian, flies the presence of a corpse, and hastens to rid his house of it, committing to strangers the duty of its burial. In Russia, on the contrary, a religious feeling towards the dead body, Ml 2i6 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN THE CHURCH 217 full of love and tenderness and piety, is a feature of the national character. The immemorial lament for the dead, accompanied by poetical ceremonies and exercises, on our conversion to a new faith was transformed into the solemn prayers of the Church. Nowhere outside our own country are the burial rites and ceremonies so elaborate ; and there can be no doubt that this is an outgrowth of our national character, in special conformity with our nature and our outlook upon life. The features of death are everywhere repulsive and terrible, but we veil them in splendid veils, we surround them with the solemn stillness of contemplative prayer ; we chant over them songs in which the terror of stricken nature is relieved by love and hope and pious faith. We do not flee from the presence of death ; we adorn it in its coffin ; we are drawn to bend our eyes to the abode of the departed soul ; we reverence the body, we grant it the last kiss, and watch over it three days and three nights with reading and chanting and prayer. Our funeral prayers are full of beauty and magnificence ; they are prolonged by hesitation to surrender to the earth the body tainted by corruption ; around the grave not only do we hear the last blessing, but witness a great religious solemnity enacted in the supreme moment of human existence. How dear is this solemnity to the Russian, how well he under- stands it ! The stranger seldom understands it, because — because it is strange. Among us the sentiment of love, defeated by death, expands in the funeral ceremony ; the stranger is repelled by the ceremony, and stricken by terror alone. A German Lutheran resident of Berlin lost in ^ ♦ Russia a dearly -loved sister who belonged to the Orthodox Church. When, on the morning of the burial, he arrived and saw his sister lying in the coffin he was stricken by terror, his heart ceased to beat, the feeling of love and piety which he felt in parting with the dead gave place to repulsion. In this, as in many other things, the German who does not live among us and enter into the depths of our spiritual life, cannot understand us. Nothing repels the Lutheran so much as the adoration of the sacred relics — a practice which to us, who venerate our dead, embrace them, and honour them in burial, seems simple and natural. Not living our life, he sees in this veneration but a barbarous superstition, for us an act of love, the most simple and natural. Even as he cannot understand our ritual, so we find coarse and repugnant the agitation carried on in Germany and in England for the practice of a new mode of disposing of the dead. It is demanded that corpses shall be buried no more, but burnt in furnaces, specially constructed; and this is required for utilitarian and hygienic reasons. This propaganda is gaining strength, its adherents hold meetings, societies are formed, perfected furnaces constructed at the expense of individuals, chemical experiments made, and funeral marches composed to solemnise the incineration. The demand for cremation is made in the name of science, in the name of civilisation, in the name of social well-being. To us these voices seem to come from a distant world, a world so strange to us, so inhospitable and cold. May God deliver us from dying in the land of strangers, far away from our native Russian soil ! ii8 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN THE CHURCH 219 y^ He who is truly Russian, heart and soul, knows //what the Church of God means to the Russian \( people. Piety, experience, and respect for religious Vjeelings are not enough in order to understand the import of the Church for the Russian people, or to love this Church as one's own. It is necessary to live the life of the people, to pray with it in congregation, to feel the heart beating in accord, pene- trated by the same solemnity, inspired by the same words and the same chants. Thus, many who know the faith only from their private chapels, frequented by select congregations, have no true understanding of the Church, or of religious sentiment, and regard with indifference or repulsion those rites and customs which to the people are especially dear, and con- stitute the beauty of the Church. The beauty of the Orthodox Church is its con> gregatipfi. On entering, we feel that all are "TrnitedTall is the work of the people, and all is maintained by them. In the Catholic Church, all seems empty, cold, and artificial to the Orthodox worshipper. The priest officiates and reads alone, as if he were above the people, and independent of them. He prays alone from his book, the members of the congregation from theirs ; having prayed, and attended one or another part of the service, the congregation departs. On the altar the mass is per- formed, the worshippers, while present, do not seem to participate by common prayer. The service is addressed to sentiment, and its beauty, if beauty there be, is strange to us, and not our own. The ( actions of the service, mechanically performed, to us seem strange, cold, and inexpressive; the sacred vesture is unsightly ; the recitative inharmonious and uninspired ; the chants— in a strange tongue which we do not understand— are not the hymns of the whole congregation, not a cry coming from the soul, but an artificial concert which conceals the service, but never unites with it. Our hearts yearn for our own Church, as we yearn for our homes, among strangers. How different with us: in our service there is an indescribable beauty which every Russian understands, a beauty he loves so much that he is ready to give up his soul for it. As our national songs, the chants of our service flow in wide, free streams from the breasts of the people— the freer they are the more they appeal to our hearts. Our religious melodies are the same as among the Greeks, but they are sung otherwise by our peoples, who place in them their whole souls. He who would hear the true voice of this soul must not go where famous choirs sing the music of new composers; he should hear the singing in some great convent or parish church: there he will hear in what wide, free streams flows the hymn from the Russian breast, with what solemn poetry is sung the dogmatic, what inspiration sings in the canticles of Easter and Christmas. We hear the word of our chants echoed by the congregation, it illumines upturned faces, it is borne over bowed heads, borne everywhere, for to all the congrega- tion the words and melodies are known from child- hood, till the very soul seems to give forth song. This true, harmonious service is a festival for the 220 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN THE CHURCH 221 Russian worshipper ; even outside his church he preserves its deep impressions, and is thrilled at the recollection of some solemn moment: he is exalted with the harmony, when in his soul echoes again the song of the Easter or Christmas canticle. In him to whom these words and sounds have been known from childhood, how many recollections and images arise out of that great poem of the past which each has lived, and each still carried in him- self! Happy is he who has known these words and sounds and images ; who from childhood has found in them the ideal loveliness to which he aspires, without which he cannot live ; to whom all is clear and congenial, all lifts his soul out of the dust of life; who in them gathers up again the scattered fragments of his happiness! Happy is he whom good and pious parents have brought in childhood to the house of God, teaching him to pray among the people, and to celebrate its festivals with it I They have built him a sanctuary for life, they have taught him to love the people and to live in com- munion with it, making the church for him his parents' house, a place of pure; and true com- munion with the people. But what shall we say of the host of churches lost in the depths of the forests and in the immensity of the plains, where the people understands nothing from the trembling voice of the deacon, and the muttering of the priest? Alas! the Church is not the cause of this, our poor people is in no way guilty, it is the fault of the idle and thoughtless ministers, the fault of the \\ ecclesiastical authorities, who carelessly and indiffer- ently appoint them, sometimes the consequence of the poverty and helplessness of the people. Happy, then, is the man in whom burns a spark of love and zeal for the spiritual life, who leads the forsaken church back to the world of loveliness and song. He will truly enlighten with a light in the place of darkness, he will revive the dead and raise the fallen, he will save the soul from death, and redeem a multi- tude of sins. It is for this cause the Russian sacrifices so much in the building and adornment of churches. How blindly they judge who condemn him for his zeal, ascribing it to rudeness and ignorance, fanaticism and hypocrisy ! They ask, Would it not be better to devote this money to the instruction of the people, to the founding of schools, to institutions of beneficence? For these, also, sacrifice is made, but this sacrifice is another thing, and the pious Russian, with healthy common-sense, will think twice before opening his purse in support of formal educational and philan- thropic institutions. As for the Church of God, it pleads for itself, it is a living institution, an institution of the people. In it alone the living and the dead are happy. In it alone all seek light and freedom ; in it the hearts of young and old rejoice, and find rest after suffering ; in it the proud and the lowly, the rich and the poor, are equal. It is adorned more splendidly than the palaces of kings ; it is the House of God, and the poor and feeble stand in it as in their homes. Each may call it his own ; it was built, and is main- tained, by the roubles, and, what is more, by the groshes of the people. There all find that refuge mm 222 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN in prayer and consolation which the Russian loves the most Such are the sentiments, conscious or unconscious, of the Russian soul towards the Church, such are the sentiments which inspire him to sacrifice for the Church without hesitation or thought. He knows that in this he can make no mistake, and that he gives for a true and holy work. CHARACTERS I My schoolfellow, Nicander, has always been the object of astonishment to me. His character, out- wardly, was in no way enigmatic, yet I never learnt to penetrate its nature. Access to him it seemed would be easy, but when I approached him I felt between us a troubled, empty space which I never could bridge, and felt that I should never get nearer to him. He was on good terms with all, and all were on good terms with him ; he took part in everything that engaged or interested us; he under- stood and could speak to anyone on any subject, yet it seemed that never was he carried away by enthusiasm for anything. When our conversation consisted of scandalous stories he seemed always to have his story ready, but it never seemed original ; when we spoke seriously he always had a wise word ; when we were Liberals, he was never behind in his Liberalism, yet his words seemed always to have been taken from a book. When we had committed some breach of discipline, and were up to our necks in hot water, he never forsook us — he could not be re- proached with cowardice; but, strange to say, after the trouble had passed, while we were still wet and wretched, he was dry in a moment. I cannot say that he was disliked, but intimate friends he had 223 224 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN none. His talents were admired by none, the words he dropped accidentally never awakened the soul or elevated the thought ; yet all considered him capable, and although he was always successful, success in him never awakened envy. He was diligent without being a book-worm, and his success apparently came to him without especial effort. No one could remember any absurd answer he had made: all with him passed easily and in good order. Our masters regarded him as the gem of the class ; they set him at the head on all great occasions, and spoke of him as a man who would go far. They were enraptured by his answers, by his compositions, by his conduct, and by his clean and orderly appearance. But I can remember finding little satisfaction in his composi- tions and his answers; I admired only the polish and smoothness of his work, and all that he did gave me an impression of deficiency and incomplete- ness, as a breakfast well served from which the guest arises hungry. The prophecies of our teachers were fulfilled. Nicander advanced with great steps on his career; and when, in a few years, I returned to the capital, I found him in an important position. In the service Nicander's name was constantly heard from the lips of his chiefs with rapturous praise. Everywhere I heard, " What a capable man ! " " What a pen he has ! " And, truly, judged by the general standard, Nicander was a master of that exposition which his chief so much admired. But I was again surprised by the universal praise of Nicander's "expository powers," when I happened to read some papers he had prepared. On me these papers created precisely CHARACTERS 225 the same impression as his answers at our school examinations, the impression of a well-served meal at which there was nothing to eat. I was tortured by hunger while others seemed sated and content. In Nicander's papers, in his memoranda and reports, I saw clearly ability only to blunt and seduce the taste, to obscure the kernel of the question, to envelop it in rounded phrases, so that the reader, while losing sight of its essence, should concentrate his attention on the covering, details, and formal attributes ; and, together with this, insistence on the paths by which the matter must progress, dexterously expounded to lead the susceptible reader to the decision required or to some point marked where the matter might be laid aside. It seemed that all was expounded clearly in these rounded phrases; in reality nothing was clear, all was shrouded in mist; but the question was settled — on paper at any rate — e sempre bene. Having spent some years in retirement, where from time to time arrived fresh praises of Nicander's ability, I went to the capital again, and found him in occupation of a new and even more important post. Here I had fresh opportunities for examining his work, and admiring his knowledge of affairs which still, as before, seemed to me the product of a strange dexterity. Being older in years and ex- perience, I had learned to understand that there are many things in the working world which are not dreamt of in the philosophy of the young. The features of Nicander's moral physiognomy became clearer to me, and I found in him a curious object of study, not so much by himself, as in the sphere in which he lived and worked. He speaks little, but P 226 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN listens attentively, although apparently with in- difference. His features are rarely animated by interest, but sometimes one may observe a shadow of unrest when arguments threaten to become too warm, or when sharp differences of opinion are expressed. This unrest is changed to agitation if questions of a delicate nature are introduced, especi- ally when a scandal is threatened. All Nicander's instincts tend towards the removing of inequalities in characters, in impressions, in opinions, and towards the reconciling of contradictions, and the establishment of concord and tranquillity everywhere. When dis- cussions threaten to pierce to the nature of things, he becomes alarmed ; the application of abstract principles to individual questions, the search for fundamental ideas, horrifies him ; by experience he knows that disagreements in fundamental ideas are the most stubborn and provoking, and he puts in action all his tactics to reconcile them. It is im- possible not to admire the dexterity with which he draws opponents away from dangerous fields, leading them to the level plain of trifles, accidents, and bagatelles. On this field he is master, he finds little trouble in convincing opponents that they are in complete agreement, that questions so immaterial as those which they discuss are unworthy of thought. His exploits, indeed, are wonderful. He can reconcile opponents, in appearance separated by an impassable gulf of contradiction in fundamental opinions. A struggle, apparently of contending elements, begins. It seems irreconcilable. Yet in ten minutes Nicander has filled the gulf with light down and covered it with brushwood, which the adversaries are crossing, holding CHARACTERS 227 out their hands to one another. Nicander has no love for fundamental ideas, his experience has not been in vain. He knows that fundamental ideas are seldom deeply rooted in the mind, and that it is always possible to divert the uncertain thought or dim im- pression from the depths to which it yearns. To attain this end he has a practice almost infallible : against the fundamental ideas he places his so-named prin- ciples, abstract propositions, and decided opinions, which are seldom opposed. There are magic words which throw a spell over us in every discussion, and no one knows better than Nicander how to bring them up in the moment of need. Such sayings, like the classic Quos ego, in a moment appease the rising waves : — " Everyone recognises nowadays," " Modern civilisation has arrived at this conclusion," " Statistics prove," " In France, in Prussia, this rule was established ages ago," " This European scholar, on such and such a page, declares," " Nowadays no one disputes that price is determined by relation of supply to demand," and a number of like aphorisms. Such are the magic phrases which work enchantment in our discussions. But the most magical of magic phrases is "Science tells us — it is admitted by science." Nicander knows that we fear this word science as the devil, and dare not contend with it. We know that it is a stick with two ends, and fear to take hold of either when he offers it to us. To object to science would be to raise a host of questions : What is science ? where is it ? whence comes it ? why ? and a multitude of others which would prolong the quarrel forever — in which we know we should be lost. In general, therefore, our discussions end with 228 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMA^ i) "science," and we accept its conclusions without questioning their origin, their import, or their aim. The more we live the more we learn. It is only now that I begin to understand why our masters praised Nicander so, why to-day all are satisfied with him, and extol his capacity for work. We are told that the genius is he who can answer the questions of the day, who can diagnose the needs of his time and country, and satisfy them. What matters it that these questions are trifling, that these needs are artificial? He is a great man, nevertheless, and, alas, he is a representative of the great workers of our time ! Around him is formed a school of like workers. All are polished and respectable, all with- out difficulty gain the reputation of capable men. When I watch them I recall involuntarily the scene from "Faust." *(The spirits vanish without leaving smell.) The marshal in surprise asks the bishop: "Do you smell anything?" " I smell nothing," answers the bishop. Then Mephistopheles explains : " This kind of spirit has no smell, gentlemen" {Diese art Geister stinken nicht, 7neine Herren)! II It is with calm, and without repulsion, that I look on Lafs as she passes in her splendid carriage, answering with smiles the salutes of passing notables, or as she sits, half-dressed, half-undressed, at the opera, while the'great ladies of society cast at her glances of envy mingled with contempt— a contempt which does not, nevertheless, prevent them quietly appropriating CHARACTERS 229 certain features of her manner and of her dress. She bears openly on her face what she is, what she seeks, for what she lives, dresses, and enjoys herself, and she bears her name without hypocrisy, although without shame. When she gazes boldly through her glasses at the great ladies of society her impudence in no way surprises me, or repels me; her glance seems to say to them, " I am truly that for which you take me, my face is uncovered ; but, you, why do you wear masks?" I think of the fate of Lais and pity her ; I ask what circumstances of life have set her on that path, from what class she sprang, and whence she drew that thirst for wild enjoyment. The thought arises. How will this path end for her, to what sad old age will that youth, burnt away in the intoxication of passion, lead? Lafs lives in her own circle ; the doors of the salons of society are closed against her. But when in these salons I meet the proud and splendid Messalina my soul revolts : I cannot look on her without indigna- tion. To her the doors of the great world are opened wide; there is no entertainment where she is not invited and received with honour ; she is beset by a host of young men of great family; an illustrious name, sumptuous surroundings, and splendid hospi- tality attract to her salons all who consider themselves as numbered among the elect. All sing praises of her beauty, her taste, her kindness, her gaiety: "Crowned with flowers as the graces, she advances smiling over the blessed earth." But when I ask myself what is the difference between the splendid Messalina and the despised Lais, alas, I pity Lais, while for Messalina I feel contempt. 230 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN At balls, although many admire her, I look on her with abhorrence. The practice of exposing not only the neck and breast, but the back and arms, goes with her to limits that Lais herself has not attained, and many of the friends of Lais cannot repress a smile at the toilette of Messalina. Others assert that no one has heard from Lais such loose speech and cynical witticisms as have been heard from Messalina to her partner in the mazurka or her neighbour at roulette ; but Lais bears the stamp of infamy, while Messalina rules in the salons of society. Lais has no family or home, she stands outside the family circle. Messalina has a husband whose illustrious name she bears, a magnificent house, a cohort of liveried servants on her marble staircase. What is the bond between her and her husband, and why do they live beneath the same roof? This is a secret known to Messalina alone. Her husband is present in her salon, he accompanies her to the salons of others, and protects her with his name. But when in winter you meet Messalina in her troika, or, in spring, on the noisy boulevard in a splendid carriage with splendid horses, it is not her husband who shares her hours of gaiety and recreation ; even in her husband's presence, others stand nearer to her, and behave more freely with her. On meeting Lais with one of her cavaliers many look aside with shame ; but when they meet Messalina with a favourite from the same circle, they bow politely, and whisper among themselves with a smile. O virtue, O honour of society, who shall ever know thy ways ! Messalina is a mother, she has children, but what '- CHARACTERS 231 are the moral bonds which unite her with her children no one can tell. She seldom sees them, and seldom knows their affairs. They live in a special apartment with their governesses ; and at certain hours appear like butterflies, in costumes of the latest fashion, with bare hands and legs, to receive from their mother a kiss, then to return to their rooms. Messalina has no time to think about children in the excitement in which her days and nights roll by. Retiring early in the morning, awakening late, she has hardly time to collect her thoughts before some guest arrives with whom she must go for a walk ; afterwards she receives more guests in her salon to discuss the latest scandals and intrigues, and to draw up programmes of amusements and entertainments to come. She dresses in the morning, she dresses for dinner, she dresses for the opera, she dresses for the ball or evening party. What is her interest in life? what are the intellectual and moral springs which keep her in movement? Where do her thoughts and desires converge? To these questions you will no longer seek an answer when you see the hollowness of her life. On her table lie books which no one has seen her read. Solitude is intolerable to her, she feels that she must have society, and why? To seek incessant distraction. Her life is something in the nature of an endless holiday, after the manner of Watteau, with the addition of electric light. The ordinary mortal, however determined to enjoy his life, must stumble sometimes upon sickness, grief, or loss : the mysterious idea of life and death must sometimes rise before his eyes. To these Messalina is invulnerable. What does she care for house I 232 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN CHARACTERS 233 and family and children? These are the affairs of her housekeeper, or, if they cannot otherwise be man- aged, of her husband. Sickness ? But she is strong beyond belief, she has learnt to control her nerves, and are there not the doctor and strong doses of chloral. Grief? There is no grief which cannot be dissipated by those who can go to Baden, to Monaco with its strong excitements, to Paris, where, with the aid of Worth, one can rid oneself of every woe. In some homes shame appears uninvited, but how would shame dare to cross the thresholds of the splendid rooms where so many famous and honourable men gather to eat and drink and make merry, and admire their hostess ; where women in splendid dresses recount their intrigues and adventures ; where from all sides may be heard the tumult of mutual satis- faction and careless gaiety ; where all is forgiven, save severe devotion to the moral principle of life. It would seem, old age, at least, is terrible for the woman of the world! But then, has not Parisian science devised good means against the natural decay of beauty? How many old women are there who appear young by the aid of false blushes, false skins, false hair, and even false bodies ? But death, at any rate, stands behind the shoulders of all — death — death — mais—franckementy apres tout — who now thinks of death ? Yet there is one point whence threatens a tempest of dread. All is false in the life and surroundings of Messalina. The luxury around her, her house with its sumptuous appointments, the majestic servants who crowd her staircases, her thousand toilettes — all these are illusions which may vanish in an hour. For years her home has not belonged to her ; she and her husband have long lost all account of their debts ; for years the bills sent to her from shops have formed a chaotic heap, which no one would attempt to order. Their estates are mortgaged, the day of public sale is appointed, their factories stop work, they are beset by money-lenders with demands and actions. But at the critical moment their troubles vanish by en- chantment, their estates are freed, their factories work again, their creditors disperse as conquerors seized by inexplicable panic, and Messalina announces a ball, which is attended by select guests, gushing with rapturous praise of her splendour, taste, and magni- ficence. For not one of her guests is it secret that all this splendour is a figment, yet all, as moths, fly to the bright light and sumptuous luxury, asking not whose it is and whence it comes ; all are satisfied, all are charmed, for such are the bonds of friendship which bind a crowd thirsty for enjoyment and excite- ment, and together worshipping the idol of vanity. Once, when it seemed that ruin was near for Messalina, and there was no salvation, what pity- ing words were heard about her in salons ! " Have you heard — poor Messalina — things are going very badly with them. I am told that they have only twenty thousand roubles income left, it is terrible, it is beggary, is it not?" Is it possible to allow the ruin of such a house? From all sides come inter- cession and entreaty, and then, as if by a magician's wand, a favouring wind brings great sums for the settlement of her affairs. Shall we wonder then that Messalina has no trouble or fear ? Proudly she walks through the world looking into the eyes of all : how ,1 234 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN often when we meet her do we recall the lines from Racine's " Phedre," " . . . . Dieux, qui la connaissez Est-ce done sa vertu que vous recompensez ! " Messalina and her kind live upon the mountain-tops, and never descend into the valleys. We look up- wards towards them with astonishment, and ask. How do they breathe the air of the mountain-tops without being stifled ? Or are they, as the Olympians, nour- ished on ambrosia ? They see and hear only those like themselves, and all the work, the troubles, the joys of the lower world rise up to them in a misty picture, as the distant buzzing of insects. Is it possible that poverty and pain can penetrate their gilded palaces, not as ideas or images, but in the concrete forms of suffering men ? Can they feel sym- pathy for such? God preserve us from condemning all as evil : many are good, full of the best intentions ; their misfortune is that they can never examine themselves. Time for introspection there is none in the revolution of a day dedicated from hour to hour to the search for enjoyment and distraction, to the conventional duties and conventional proprieties of the circle in which they turn. Some, when conscience awakens, curse their manner of life, and say, "To-morrow I will begin to live as a human being." But this to-morrow never comes ; to-morrow, the inexorable, enchanted circle draws up a new list of pleasures and conventional obligations. One of the subtlest of arts is the art of self-decep- tion and of lulling conscience to sleep ; and this art humanity has practised well from the beginning of ^ ' CHARACTERS 235 time. It is not strange then, that many have attained perfection. Those who live the conventional life of a restricted circle cannot find rest in the thought that they have no concern with the lives of ordinary mortals, with beggary, privation, and misery. They feel it necessary to prove that nothing human is strange to them. With this object, institutions of beneficence have been founded — a splendid means to clear the consciences of individual men. These institutions exist by themselves, and, like other institutions, work by statute and regulation, while the individual man, with his conscience, his feelings, his personal energy of will, lives freely alone, and all unhappiness which would spoil his life, shackle his liberty, or occupy his time, is sent to the institution. By means of this inspired contrivance, in the enchanted circle where Messalina rules poison is turned into food, from bitterness sweetness proceeds, and the work of benevolence, the work of pity, the work of mutual sympathy among the children of dust in the name of the high spiritual principle of love, is turned into a social entertainment— a fair of all the vanities. Thus Messalina appears as the protectress of the poor, the benefactress of suffering humanity, the patroness of the charity bazaar. I have seen her standing in a blaze of electric light, to the sound of a splendid orchestra, at a stall ingeniously built in the magnificent salon of a great house. She looked dazzlingly lovely in a splendid toilet just re- ceived from Paris, and worth an unimaginable sum. Around her thronged buyers, attracted by her glances 236 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN and her smiles, her profits every day awakening envy in the neighbouring stalls. She leaves her post with the proud consciousness of duty fulfilled, with the emotion of a new triumph, although her receipts, as those of her companions, do not equal the price of the toilette which she wore. The thought in- voluntarily occurs: What an immense sum might have been collected if we could have put together the values borne upon the shoulders of these resplen- dent ladies ! In this assembly there is no place for Lais, and why, indeed, should she be there ? Lais is a despised being, and her infamy is notorious. Yet once there was one such as she who bore in herself the fire of love through long wandering on the way of evil. Long and deeply had she sinned, yet all her sins were forgiven because she had loved much, although in ignorance where to place her love until that day when at last she met with the true principle of all love. But whom, except herself, has Messalina ever loved, what fire does she bear in herself? Ill There are men with arid and limited minds, whom, nevertheless, we may take seriously, because they have firm, decided views — a certain character which constantly reveals itself There are able and inter- esting men whom we never take seriously, because they have no firm opinions, but only sensations which perpetually change. Such very often is the nature of artistic men, their lives are a constant play of shift- • CHARACTERS 237 ing sensations, the expression of which sometimes goes to virtuosity. In the expression of their views they deceive neither themselves nor their hearers ; like talented actors, they adopt a role to which they abandon themselves with true art. But when in real life they are called upon to act, it is impossible to foresee how they will direct their action and express their will, or what colour they will give to their words in the moment of crisis. Such constitution of thought and feeling is unhappily familiar among us, more particularly among people by nature gifted. The artistic faculties develop, while those clear and defined ideas which sustain mankind in life and action are absent. With such men all is impression. They are inspired by every medium into which they accidentally fall ; they are preachers and prophets of every idea which they find current there. Falling into endless inconsistency, to-day contradicting to-morrow, they learn dexter- ously to reconcile their inconsistencies, and pass from one to another, skilfully playing with subtleties of thought and sentiment. In politics and administration such men, often unconsciously, become opportunists, practised in sailing with every wind from whatever quarter it may blow, and of drawing inspiration from every wind which is favourable to them. Among statesmen in Parliament, among attorneys and advo- cates examples of this are common ; inspired by the impression of the moment, the man who but yester- day was the stern, inexorable enemy of injustice, to-morrow appears as its apologist; he will defend with ardent, inspired conviction ideas entirely in- consistent ; he will find features of beauty to-day in 238 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN CHARACTERS 239 that which yesterday he condemned for its moral deformity. The attribute to the talented actor is susceptibility to inspiration by his part and capacity for enter- ing into the soul and character of the person whom he personates. But if the actor can abandon himself to his art, if he is able to live again in the charac- teristic adventures of the individual he represents, it is because before him is a mass of observers whose souls unite with his own ; and, inspired by his part, he is, at the same time, inspired by the souls of his audience. This is the cause of the attractiveness of acting, which grows to a passion almost, both in the actor and in his audience. It is the same with every speaker in public assemblies when advocating ideas or doctrines ; inspired by his subject, he is at the same time inspired by the medium on which he acts, and, while never abdicating his personality, this personality aspires to awaken in the medium sentiments of sympathy and enthusiasm. Such aspirations may lead a talented nature to passion ; unrestrained he seeks a scene for his art, practising it everywhere, in great assemblies, in the conversations of the salon and the study ; adapting himself to the nature of his audience, and inspired by the colour of its opinions. Such actors abound in all deliberative and legis- lative assemblies. It may be said that they constitute the majority which decides all matters of moment. As a counterbalance, we have men of serious action and firm opinions, but these are seldom strong in words ; they cannot wield the weapons which their opponents, the men of impressions and sensations, make use of with ease. The more numerous the assembly, the more heterogeneous its composition, the less is it able to examine the nature of questions, to comprehend their data, to distinguish their truth or falsehood, and the more is it likely to be carried away by sensation, sometimes the sensation of the moment which a speaker has produced. Few approach questions with conscience or after preparatory study ; the majority either has no precise apprehension of the question, or approaches it with prejudice and precon- ception. In such assemblies the artist in words is master of emotions. Skilfully armed with his disposi- tion of facts and figures, casting upon them light or shadow according to his own views, he seduces some by pathos, entangles others by irony, and holds the field against all who struggle for truth, yet who can- not arm themselves with phrases, but work with a strong chain of logical reasoning. Their arguments are inaccessible to a majority drawn by sensations ; the more conscientious they are — the more they feel the moral responsibility for their opinions — the harder it is to conquer the irresponsible majority, which lacks conscience, for how can there be conscience in a crowd without unity or wholeness, united only in the numbering of votes ? This numbering of votes unhappily serves as the final criterion of truth, and the final sanction of conclusions which sometimes determine the gravest questions of State. IV The avarice typified in Moliere's " Harpagon " has many varieties which have been little investigated. \i 240 /REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN It is Strange that hitherto no humorist has called attention to that peculiar species of avarice, the avarice of time. For it is a subject rich in interest. As Moli^re's miser amasses wealth and trembles over it, this other miser economises time, not to employ it productively, but to admire his capital as the miser takes pleasure in his hoard of gold. Gold would live if a living soul possessed it. In the hands of a true man it would become a mighty instrument of fruitful productiveness and of wise beneficence, for, as every other force, money requires circulation. The English tell us that " Time is money." A living man must put it into circulation, and expend it productively, without parsimony or extravagance. Society is rich in these extreme types. On one hand, we find too many idle forces, and too much squandering of time by men who know not what to do with it ; and the meeting of men of this type with men of action who value their time is a situation not devoid of absurdity. On the other hand, we often meet with misers of time, and, unhappily, meet with them sometimes among men of business, and even among men in authority. In such men the dread of losing time some- times degenerates to a nervous irritation, which forces them to lock themselves up from the world, and to regard as thieves and robbers all those who approach them on actual work with explanations or requests. This explains the difficulty of seeing some men of authority on the most necessary affairs. The only means of communication with them is by letter. Written communications have a soothing effect, although the routine work inseparable from I CHARACTERS 241 correspondence wastes more time than any personal interview. In this, perhaps, we may find the cause of the immense development of correspondence in our time. Ask such a man why he treasures his time and secludes himself so jealously. He will answer that every moment is precious. But if we examined more closely how he employs those moments we could only wonder at the cause of his self-seclusion from life, from men, from living action — the cause of his sitting like Harpagon over his hoarded gold. Xenophon, in his recollections of Socrates, records the instructive history of a young Athenian of under twenty years of age, who wished to become a statesman, and began zealously to deliver speeches to the public, in the hope of attaining popularity. At last he came to Socrates, who said, " I hear, Glaucon, that you wish to take part in the direction of State affairs?" "Yes, that is my ambition." "It is a splendid career," said Socrates, "to govern a State — what infinite good you can do to your native land ! What honour you will gain for yourself and for your house ! You may attain celebrity in Athens ; yes, and not in Athens only ! Themistocles was famous even among the barbarians. Excellent! But I think you will admit that such honours are not given for nothing ; something must be done to deserve them ? " " Undoubtedly," Glaucon hastened to reply. "Tell me," continued Socrates, "with what would you begin, for instance?" The young man made i42 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN no answer ; he had never thought of how he would begin. " Let us see, we are told that of all things wealth is the most necessary for the State. You, of course, would do your utmost to increase the revenue?" "Unquestionably." "I am curious to know how you would begin. You know, of course, from what sources the treasury receives its revenue, what sums it receives, and from what quarters?" The young man was compelled to admit that he did not know exactly. "Well, in such a case, tell me what expenditure you think superfluous and what you would wish to curtail." " I confess I have never had time to think about this in detail. But it seems to me, Socrates, that we need not trouble about this when we can fill our treasury at the expense of our enemies." " Quite true ; but for this we must first conquer the enemy; we must be stronger than he. If he be stronger, it is he who will fill his treasury from ours. If you rely upon war you must know exactly our strength and the strength of the enemy. Can you tell me the strength of our forces on land and sea, and the strength of the forces of the enemy ? " "I cannot tell them out of my head at a moment's notice." "That does not matter," answered Socrates ; " if you have them noted somewhere let us go and examine them." But Glaucon had no memoranda. "Very well," began Socrates again, " I see that we must abandon this subject ; its time has not yet come. But, of course, you know of all that relates to the internal security of the State; how many posts of police there are, how many are required, where they are lacking, where there are too many, and where they may be CHARACTERS 243 I diminished ? " " To tell the truth," answered Glaucon, " I should have abolished them all if it had depended on me. For what purpose does our police serve, and why should we maintain it, when everywhere robbery takes place, so that no man feels safe?" "What! Why, if we abolished the police, then thieves would plunder at free will in the open day. But can you truly say, from your own knowledge, that our police is of no use ? " " So it seems to me ; everyone says that it is so." "No, Glaucon, you must not be satisfied with seeming ; you must know exactly." Glaucon was forced to assent. "Come now," said Socrates, "you wish to rule the State. Do you know how much wheat is needed by the inhabitants of our city in a year, what is our home production, and how much we have to buy abroad ? " " How should I know this, Socrates ? " answered the young man. " You ask so many questions that it would be a great labour to reply to them." "But, Glaucon, you cannot govern your own house with- out knowing this, and it is harder to govern a State than a household. Go to your uncle's house, which is in disorder. Begin with it— manage your uncle's house, and you will then find the knowledge and the strength you lack." "I should willingly undertake it, but my uncle will not listen to my advice." "What!" cried Socrates, "you are not able to convince your uncle, yet you imagine that you are able to convince all Athens, your uncle among them ! " The discussion ended ; the young man reflected, began to study, and ceased to make speeches in the assemblies of the people. It is well to recall this old, simple tale at the present t I 'I 244 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN day, when the earth is overrun by Glaucons, who aspire to political careers by beginning with all manner of reforms ; when young men, who have scarcely left the benches at school, often without success, hasten to com- pose, in questionable grammar, projects for new legis- lation, and to deliver speeches swollen with inflated phrases. In the past there was a Socrates to whom parents might send their young aspirants when they saw them made ridiculous by empty eloquence. In our unhappy age there is no Socrates, and if there were, our Glaucons would not go near him or listen to his advice. To audiences like themselves resound the empty speeches of inflated orators, filled with impudence and unfailing assurance. Their projects are received without criticism, and awaken admiration instead of contempt. Before them rise the easy steps of that desired staircase which they ascend on the stilts of phrase. VI When first reflection awakens in man, the desire to define himself, to determine his place in life, to make his ideal of life accord with his activity awakens also. The restless mind trembles in the midst of an eternally shifting, various, and inconstant activity, in the midst of a changing circle of aspirations, impressions, and desires. The thinking mind desires a resting-place in this uncertainty ; a point on which to affirm the balance of life, to create for itself a character. There are fortunate men who attain this equi- CHARACTERS 245 librium at once without great effort. Making no deductions or conclusions, asking no questions — why ? whence ? for what purpose ? such men themselves un- consciously find in action a decision of all questions. Their ideas correspond to their organic require- ments, and settle equably in the soul, never opposing their wishes or sensations. Their interests are restricted by a circle of action which they choose for themselves, and which they wish not to transcend. In ordinary life this type is often met with, awaken- ing sympathy everywhere, for the simplicity of its relations to life generally imparts to it a character of directness and sincerity. It is true that this type presents little interest on the lower grades of its development, because we do not find in it creative force. But on the higher steps, it numbers men of culture, of developed intellect, who may be numbered among those of well-balanced life. They do not aspire to creation, but are generally masters of thought and action ; and are gifted with the capa- city of assimilating, understanding, and transmitting creative thought, because they possess talent. Their nature makes possible a harmonious union of life and work, ideas and images; and their thoughts, while never ceasing to work, never aspire to destroy this harmony. This class numbers a multitude of men who acquire honourable celebrity in administrative work, in literature, in art, in science. And their work is precious, because they educate the thought and taste of society ; not in the name of creative, but of accepted ideas and images. They accomplish a great work with small pretensions. They inspire imitation through sympathetic tendencies of mind, 246 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN but they cannot create new schools, or attract en- thusiasts to a new gospel. Others strive to form an equilibrium in life by conscious efforts of will. All reasoning in man begins from the knowledge of good and evil. The sensations of evil and error produce in the soul perplexity, from which the human mind seeks an issue ; and, dissatis- fied with the instinctive feeling sufficient for others, it flies to the aid of reason to find a path to the attainment of truth. Thus are formed rationalists, who seek to attain truth in the duality of human nature. General principles, accepted on the blind confidence of the intellect, constitute for them im- pregnable propositions, with which they attempt to classify all the phenomena of life. The reason which they worship becomes a divinity, solving all questions of practical life, and their convictions they regard as the conclusions of truth, which every rational being must accept. Such tendencies of mind sometimes develop to the fanaticism of formal logic. The fanatical worshipper of abstract principles acknow- ledges nothing that will not accord with his system of speculation, and he is in no way embarrassed by the plain facts and phenomena of actuality. I see, he replies, but I do not believe. Among the higher speci- mens of this type we find philosophers, theologians, moralists, naturalists, whose one desire is to recon- cile with reason not only all that they see, think, and feel, but all that others think and feel, and even things that never were thought, but may some- where occur or appear. The highest representatives of this type were Auguste Comte and Stuart Mill, both true patterns of abstract thinkers with CHARACTERS 247 absolute faith in the infallibility of reason and analysis. Such are the great ! The lower varieties found in the different domains of knowledge and action are very different in nature, and of late their number has multiplied immeasurably. Pretended philosophers appear, investing themselves with some fashionable religion or philosophical doctrine, or founding schools themselves simply by denying the ideas accepted by those around them. All, however, imagine that they drink from the spring of universal knowledge — in politics, in science, in philosophy. By its nature reason is an art, and feeds on the artistic instinct. The mind is naturally inclined to build more or less symmetrical edifices of proofs, deductions, and conclusions. By some this instru- ment is used to subserve their passions, their caprices, and their material interests, while others are drawn by passion to licence in speculation, and strive to accord in formal unity the whole domain of observa- tion. This passion is one of the strongest that rules mankind. To the number of the first belong the passionate propagandists of social and religious ideas who wish to reform humanity — of such is the upper grade. On the lower steps stand sophists of all kinds, who employ their arts in defence or advocacy, at the impulse of caprice, or for the sake of selfish interests. To this class belong advocates and journalists of the baser sort. Men of this type seek to establish harmony in their souls by means of the balancing and co-ordination of its ideal elements. But there are minds which, having evolved certain ideas from within, or adopted r 248 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN them from without, seek to subordinate all other ideas to them, and what they cannot subordinate refuse to recognise or accept. These are, indeed, the fanatics of preconception. So convinced are they of the truth of their convictions that they worship them, and, when the real truth appears, reject it as they reject phenomena irreconcilable with their conceptions of truth. Pursuing one idea to its extreme limits, they refuse to regard any other idea, or consider other facts or phenomena. Having affirmed thus their lives on the basis of a favourite idea, they reject violently all ideas and sentiments irreconcilable with it, but cannot, nevertheless, annihilate them ; and often those rejected forces, in spite of theories and a faith vhich knows no limits, continue to determine their activity, their personal relations, and their feelings to real life. These sentiments, concealed in the depths of the human soul — sentiments which such men will not for anything recognise — unconsciously manifest them- selves in their actual lives, although they have rejected and buried them. This is especially noticeable where the dominant idea is sharply opposed to the ideas accepted in the sphere around it. Thus we see that the atheist, whose denial of religion goes to hatred, falls into gross superstition in his domestic life, or creates himself a faith from the refuse of those forms he has rejected. The theorist who, by his theory of the struggle for existence, condemns as falsehood and evil all beneficence, when he sees poverty hastens to relieve it ; the ardent apostle of free love, who denies all marriage and family life, shows himself a tender and careful husband and father ; the fanatical advocate of celibacy and asceticism rejoices at the birth of CHARACTERS 249 ^ children ; the fiercest foe of wealth and of capital lets no occasion pass for the increase of his capital and his wealth. Such phenomena, so common among us, serve as a striking exposure of the falsehood of all theories constructed independently of life. The fatal duality of human nature is everywhere revealed ; on the tongue is a proud and triumphant word ; the deeds correspond in no way. In the depths of the souls of men, both great and small, hypocrisy is concealed. When evil appears clothed in the vest- ments of religion and philanthropy we are horrified. But in addition to such conscious and shameless hypocrisy, how often is unconscious hypocrisy re- vealed, when men, blinded by pride, glorify their faiths and speculations as the images of truth, flattering their hearts with a multitude of worshippers and disciples, who bear their gospels to the four winds. Sometimes these disciples develop the system of their master, with new applications of its essential ideas, as formulas destined to enlighten humanity, to reveal to it the mystery of the Godhead, of the world, and of life, and to reform, in the sudden light of truth, religion, and art, and science, and philosophy. More often the pupils do a vain service to their master by building a system on the fallacies and imperfections of his doctrine. What are the impulses which drive the human mind to such narrowness and extremity ? Some characters by nature are inclined to contradiction and to protest against received opinions and convictions rooted in the social polity, or existing and consecrated by tradition. This innate tendency may degenerate to fanaticism when seeking issue and satisfaction. At its 250 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN prompting, the subtle thinker elaborates a system of tenuous dialectics, which serves as an instrument for the attainment of his ends — that is, the conversion of others to what, with all the energy of a strained will, he regards as truth. Immersed in scientific theories, in doctrines of religion or sociology, the mind strives to extract from them a truth which no one sees ; and on this truth aspires to establish unity of science, faith, and life. Another, the seeker after truth, lost in the study of the Gospel, and seeking there an ideal of religious truth, rejects as incompatible all but a few words and phrases. On these scattered fragments he builds himself the temple of a new faith, proclaims it as the revelation of his own intellect, and charms disciples from that multitude which wanders over the world, seeking to affirm on unity its scattered thoughts and desires. From the time when man began to see and think upon the phenomena of social life, the host of such prophets has been innumerable, sow- ing among peoples of different faiths not love, but infinite hatred and intolerance. Among the higher representatives of this class we cannot but observe much genial imagination and in- genuity. The architect of ideas is everywhere a master of art ; seduced by external symmetry he builds his house ; he is charmed by its form and harmony, and ignores the essential absurdity of the materials. Such, for instance, was the system of the inspired madman, Fourier. All the higher creators of such systems were distinguished as artists in thoughts and words. It is remarkable that few of them took part in the realisation of their theories ; most were satisfied with proclaiming their teaching, troubling little about CHARACTERS 251 V its consequences. Having worked upon the letter of their doctrine, they send it out into the world to care for itself, where, seizing minds in a state of transition, it creates fanatical advocates, who seldom attempt to realise, but extend and proclaim it, according to their own interpretations. Often the most fanatical preacher of anarchy proves a quiet citizen, a wise parent, and a virtuous man, while his pupils and adherents do san- guinary deeds by virtue of his teaching and in his name. The prophet of Socialism issues works, delivers speeches, and maintains his own welfare, while his teaching incites the people to infamous misdeeds. The prophet troubles little how many lives have been ruined by his doctrine, how many falsehoods have been sown in unripe minds, how many new misfortunes he has brought upon humanity, how many feeble, trusting souls he has destroyed. Why should he think of this ? Has he not faith in his formula for the unity of human life, which early or late is destined to regenerate the world? Ours is a time of restless and wandering thought, a time richly abounding in abnormal and unbalanced minds. In all ages the life of man has been afflicted with violence, injustice, falsehood, and misfortune ; but never so widely as to-day was opened before us the infinite roll of evil and untruth. It is not surprising that among such unhealthy sentiments the mind, seeking an ideal, should lose itself, and, finding no issue, be compelled to cleave a way. And woe to it if it find no issue save denial, indignation, and protest! The path of negation too often leads to fictitious formulas of life: engendering new false- hoods in the mind, while striving with other formulas, 252 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN it exhausts itself in fruitless denials, until it in turn gives way to some new doctrine. One after another stretch infinite files of men seeking an answer to Pilate's question : What is truth ? And he only who is of the truth may find in himself an answer without search. ' " POWER AND AUTHORITY In human souls there exists a force of moral gravity which draws them one to another ; and which, made manifest in the spiritual interaction of souls, answers an organic need. Without this force man- kind would be as a heap of sand, without any bond, dispersed by every wind on every side. By this inherent force, without preparatory accord, are men united in society. It impels them out of the crowd of men to seek for leaders with whom to commune, whom to obey, and whose direction to seek. Inspired by a moral principle, this instinct acquires the value of a creative force, uniting and elevating the people to worthy deeds and to great endurance. But for the purposes of civil society this free and accidental interaction is not enough. The natural in- Stinct o f man seeks for pmvp r i^ iinhrnk <^n ^rtjvityj to whi ch the mass^ wi thTts yaried needs, as pirations, and passions may_subiiut ; through which it may acquire th^tmpulse of activity, and the principles of order ; in which it may find amid all the subversions of wilful- ness a standard of truth. Thus, by its nature, power is founded on truth, and inasmuch as truth has as its source the All-High God and His commandments written indelibly in the consciences of all, we find a justification in their deeper meaning of the words, " There is no power but of God." «S3 I ^ 254 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN These words are addressed to subjects, but they apply with equal force to power itself, and O, that all power might recognise their import! Power is a great and terrible, because it is a sacred thing. This word sacred {svyastchennui) in its primitive sig- nification means elect {ptdyelennui), dedicated to the service of God. Thus, power exists not for itself alone, but for the love of God ; it is a service to which men are dedicated. Thence comes the limit- less, terrible strength of power, and its limitless and terrible burden. Its strength is unlimited, not in the material acceptation of the word, but in its spiritual meaning, because it is the strength of reason and of creation. The first act of creation was the appearance of the light and its separation from darkness. Thus, the first act of power must be the finding of truth and its dis- crimination from falsehood ; on this is founded the faith of the people in power, and the gravitation towards it of all mankind. Many times and everywhere this faith has been deceived, but its fount remains intact, and cannot dry up, because without truth no man can live. From this also springs the creative force of power, the strength to attract just and rational men, to animate them, and to inspire them to work and to great deeds. To power belongs the first and last word — it is the alpha and omega of human activity. While humanity exists it will not cease to suffer, sometimes from power, sometimes from impotence. The violence, the abuse, the folly and selfishness of power raise rebellion. Deceived by their ideals of power, men seek to dispense with it, and to replace it by the authority of the law. This is a vain fancy. N* POWER AND AUTHORITY 255 In the name of the law arise a multitude of un- authorised factions, which struggle for power, and the distribution of power leads to violence worse than that which went before. Thus poor humanity, searching for an ideal organisation, is borne on the waves of an infinite sea, without a guide, without a harbour in sight To live without power is impossible. After the need of communion the need of power is of all feelings most deeply rooted in the spiritual nature of man. Since the day duality entered into his soul, since the day the knowledge of good and evil was vouchsafed to him, and the love of good and justice rose in his soul in eternal conflict with evil and in- justice, for him there has been no salvation save to seek sustenance and reconciliation in a high judge of this conflict ; in a living incarnation of the principle of order and of truth. And, whatever may be the disenchantment, the betrayal, the afflictions which humanity has suffered from power, while men shall yearn for good and truth, and remember their helplessness and duality, they can never cease to believe in the ideal of power, and to repeat their efforts for its realisation. To-day, as in ancient times, the foolish say in their hearts: There is no God, no truth, no good, no evil ; and gather around them pupils equally foolish, proclaiming atheism and anarchy. But the great mass of man- kind stands firm in its faith in the supreme principle of life, ^nd, through tears and bloodshed, as the blind s'^kmg a guide, seeks for power with imperishable nope, notwithstanding eternal betrayal and disillusion. Thus the work of power is a work of uninter- i u» 256 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN rupted usefulness, and in reality a work of re- nunciation. How strange these words must seem beside the current conception of power! It is natural, it would seem, for men to flee and to avoid renuncia- tion. Yet all seek power, all aspire to it ; for power men strive together, they resort to crime, they de- stroy one another, and when they attain power they rejoice and triumph. Power seeks to exalt itself, and falls into the strange error that it exists for itself and not for service of men. Yet the immutable, only true: ideal of power is embodied in the words of Christ: "Whosoever of you will be the chiefest shall be servant of all." These words pass through our heads as something in no way concerning us, as especially addressed to a vanished community in Palestine. In reality, they apply to all power, however great, which, in the depth of conscience, does not recognise that the higher its throne, the wider the sphere of its activity, the heavier must become its fetters, the more widely must open before it the roll of social evils, stained by the weeping of pity and woe, and the louder must sound the crying and sobbing of injustice which demands redress. The first necessity of power is faith in itself and in its mission. Happy is power when this faith is combined with a recognition of duty and of moral responsibility ! Unhappy is it when it lacks this consciousness and leans upon itself alone! Then begins the decay which leads to loss of faith, and in the end to disintegration and destruction. Power is the depository of truth, and needs, above all things, men of truth, of clear intellects, of strong understandings, and of sincere speech, who know the POWER AND AUTHORITY 257 limits of yes and no, and never transcend them, whose thoughts develop clearly in their minds, and are clearly expressed by their words. Men of this nature only are the firm support of power, and its faithful delegates. Happy is the power which can distinguish such men, appreciate their merit, and firmly sustain them ! Unhappy is the power which wearies of such natures, promoting men of complaisant character, flexible opinions, and flattering tongues! The just man is one complete in himself, who tolerates no duality. He looks straight in the faces of others; his eyes reflect one image, one thought, one feeling. His presence is calm and un- terrified, and his words change not. His thoughts accord with his character, and are expressed, not tentatively, but without regard for the mental sus- ceptibilities or the desires and caprices of others. His words are simple, and seek no crooked paths or cunning methods to convert others to doctrines which he does not trust himself. How different is the man of unstable thought, the flatterer, with a double soul. He looks in your face, but in his eyes you see not him, but another, and know not which to believe. He speaks, and while his words are ardent and eloquent, his mind is busy considering whether the impressions he creates are in accord with your caprices and desires. If you assent he will yield his opinions to you, declaring that you are their author, that he has taken them from you. He will seize your casual words as they are uttered, invest them with definite forms, and express them as concrete thoughts and firm opinions. The abler such a man the more skilfully I 258 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN he will exploit and direct you. You are embarrassed — you hesitate ; he has a solution ready to relieve you from your embarrassment and to lead you into the calms of complacency. You hesitate to define the truth — he has reasons and formulas ready to con- vince you that what you questioned is absolutely true. Paper will tolerate all things — so says an old proverb, spoken in a time when learning was almost wholly literary and paper served as the chief material and instrument of chicane. Since then a great change has taken place. Paper remains, but oral speech is master, and modern chicanery seeks as an instrument the words of innumerable orators. A new school has been founded, in which the ignorant as well as the learned and able may acquire the art of speaking well on everything, of proving the truth or falsehood of what they will, and of carrying on a skilful game by playing with the susceptibility of their audiences. A new class has sprung up to fill the ranks of practical workers, of administrators, of judges and school- masters. He is a happy man who, having passed through this school, has yet preserved clear thoughts, a conscientious judgment, and the ability to recognise truth in the midst of the host of ab- stract propositions, and the formulas of modern sophistry — in a word, who, having passed through the school of dissimulation, has been able to remain sincere. Men in authority must always remember the dignity of p ower. Dignity once forgotten, power decays, and "relations to subordinates are falsified. POWER AND AUTHORITY 259 With dignity is coincident, and should be insepar- able, that simplicity which is necessary to impel subordinates to work, to inspire them with in- terest in their duties, and to maintain with them sincerity of relations. The consciousness of dignity engenders also freedom in relations to men. Power must be free within the limits of the law; being conscious of its worth, it need not consider the appearances it makes, the impressions it creates, or the conduct it should observe in its relations to men. But the consciousness of merit must be inseparable from the recognition of duty; as the recognition of duty is enfeebled, the consciousness of merit swells, till, swollen beyond measure, it degenerates to a disease which may be called the hypertrophy of power. As this disease advances on its course, power may fall into a moral obscurity, in which it considers itself as independent and as existing for itself alone. Then begins the disintegration of power. While preserving the dignity of power, authority must not forget that it serves as a mirror and example for all its subordinates. As the man in authority conducts himself, so those who will succeed him are preparing to conduct themselves in their relations to others, in their methods of work, in their regard for their work, in their tastes, in their standards of propriety and im- propriety. It would be wrong to imagine that power, when it takes off its robe of authority, may without danger mingle in the daily life of the crowd in the fair of human vanity. Nevertheless, while cherishing his dignity, the If; I II \ 26o REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN POWER AND AUTHORITY 261 V leader must as steadfastly guard the dignity of his subordinates. His relations to them must be founded on trustfulness, for, in the absence of trustfulness, there can be no moral bond between him and them. He is a foolish man who fancies that he can know and judge all things without intermediaries and independently of the knowledge and experience of his subordinates ; who wishes to decide all questions by his word and command, without recourse to the thoughts and opinions of those who stand directly beneath him. Such men, recognising their helplessness without the knowledge and experience of their subordinates, often end by becoming altogether dependent upon them. Still worse is the case of the leader who falls into the fatal habit of tolerating no objections or contra- dictions ; and this is the attribute not only of narrow minds, but often of able and energetic, but vain and over-confident men. A conscientious worker must avoid everything absolute and arbitary in his decisions, the fruit of these is indifference— the poison of democracy. Power must never forget that papers and reports represent living men and living works, and that life itself demands and expects decisions and directions which conform with its nature. Truth must be in the leader himself, in his sincere, conscientious, and practical views of work, and truth also corresponding to the social, moral, and economic conditions of the national life and the national history. Such truth is absent where the ruling principle of power is abstract theory, detached from life with its manifold conditions and needs. The wider the field of the activity of a leader, the more complex the mechanism of government, the more he needs subordinates capable of work, and able to combine in single directions to a common end. Men are needed in all times and by all governments, but perhaps more than ever to-day. In our time governments must consider a multi- tude of forces now rising and affirming them- selves—in science, in literature, in the criticism of public opinion, in social institutions with their independent interests. Ability to find and to choose men is the first essential attribute to power ; the second is ability to direct them and to establish due discipline upon their activity. The choice of men is a matter of labour, and the ability to distinguish their capacities an art acquired with trouble only. Unhappily, power seeks often to shirk this labour, and is satisfied with external symptoms of ability. The proofs most often demanded are diplomas of courses of higher education, acquired by means of examinations. This test, it is well known, is quite untrustworthy, for its value depends upon a multitude of adventitious circumstances, and it cannot prove the knowledge, while it proves still less the capacity of candidates for the work they are to undertake. But it serves to deliver power from the labour of studying men itself. Guided by such untrustworthy tests, power falls into errors fatal to its work. Capacity and know- ledge, even education, in no way depend upon the completion of courses of study on the multitude of subjects which compose the regimen of the schools. The numberless examples of clever students who have turned out good-for-nothing, and of distin- / V til 262 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN guished men of action who failed as students, demon- strate the contrary. Often the capacity of men is discovered only the moment they deal with the living realities of work ; until then, science in the form of lessons and lectures leaves them indifferent, because they find in it no actual interest. Such has been the history of many eminent public men. The head of a great administration with a wide sphere of activity cannot act with success if he tries, beyond due measure, to extend his immediate authority over all the component departments of his administration, and over all the details of work. The most energetic and experienced man may waste his strength, and confound the issues of work among his subordinates, if he pay the same attention to trifling details of routine work as to those essential questions which it is his duty generally to direct. His place is above all work, whence he may survey the whole horizon of subordinate activity ; by descending personally into the byeways of adminis- tration he breaks the measure of his work and of his strength, he loses his capacity for comprehensive survey, he destroys the division of labour necessary in all practical affairs, and weakens the interest of his subordinates in their work and their sense of moral responsibility for their appointed tasks. A supreme leader mistakes if he reserves to himself the ^ choice of men not only depending from him directly, but the secondary officials subordinate to the heads of the different departments of his administration. In such cases he undertakes a labour beyond his strength, to the detriment of his work, merely for the satisfaction of his own will and absolute authority. POWER AND AUTHORITY 263 The head of every department is responsible for the success of the work entrusted to him ; to deprive him of the right of selecting his collaborators personally is to relieve him of responsibility for the successful issue of his labours, to weaken his authority, and to restrict his free action within the lawful limits of his power. ^ J Unhappily, as the moral principle of power decays the chief becomes possessed by the fatal passion of patronage, the passion of playing the protector and of sharing places high and low. The spread of this vice, hypocritically covered with the veil of generosity and benevolence, is one of the greatest evils of our time. Too often this benevolence is mingled with servility to the great who desire to do kind- nesses to their clients. Unhappily, benevolence such as this flourishes only at the expense of the public welfare, at the expense of the efficient organisation of the public service, and, finally, at the expense of the treasury and of the people. Let power once forget itself, and it loses the sentiment of the great- ness of its service, and that consideration for the public welfare to which it is called. The chief motive of favouritism is flattery, an ancient source of temptation, which attacks not only weak, but also strong natures, for the art ot flattery is inexhaustible in the variety of its methods. One of its subtlest courses is the insinuation to men in authority that all creative power proceeds from them, that all reforms originate in them, that all the successes of subordinates are by them inspired. Thus little by little, the flatterer becomes a welcome guest ; he appears a capable man, and creates in his lj 264 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN patron an impression of attachment. When once the disposition of a chief to such agreeable conduct is observed, to acquire his good opinion becomes a customary part of the internal economy of his department But men with clear outlooks on life, who have trained themselves and their wills to reasoned work, clearly knowing to what they aspire, are free in their relations to their fellow-men, and in this freedom of relations find full opportunity for judging character. They know the strong and able when they see them, for they are in no way alarmed by the thought that their dignity suffers injury from the dignity of others. They have attained power, but they have not lost their freedom. But men unprepared for power by disciplined work and disciplined character lose their freedom in their relations to men. The external dignity of power corrupts them and steals away their strength, because they do not join with it worthiness of soul and understanding, and do not value worthiness of soul in others, but take alarm at it. They feel themselves free only with men of mean spirits and worldly instincts, who flatter them with flattery adapted to their tempers and tendencies. Thus is formed about the chief a body of confidential friends and favourites, from which he is able at will to select men for the work of his administration. Himself undisciplined by labour, he has no clear conception of what labour means and what is its value ; each thought strange to him he appropriates as his own, and issues in his name. To the motive of favouritism is joined the motive of POWER AND AUTHORITY 265 comradeship. The relations established in early life at school, in the amusements of youth, and m military life, create among men ties, founded less on sympathy of intellect than on the habit of constant association. But among many habit is the chief guiding prin- ciple of life and action, both in personal and in public affairs. Thus, when a friend appears as a candidate for some appointment, the choice is determined by personal favour, or anxiety for a man with scanty or disordered means, sometimes without consideration whether the candidate be suited to his work, or whether he be capable of protecting the interests to be entrusted to him. Still nearer to the favour of a leader than his friends are his relations, often numerous, who seek to carve out careers in some of the services, and regard provision for this as the moral duty of their powerful kinsman. . t .,.^ 4. The most precious gift of a statesman is ability to organise. It is a talent seldom met-a talent inborn, which no study will produce. Of men of this character it may be said as was said of poets, nascuntur non Hunt It is enough to reflect how many different abilities are needed to constitute the organising talent. Strength of imagination must unite to the capacity of promptly choosing the means of realisa- tion A comprehensive and foreseeing intellect is demanded, resolution in action, ability to seize the proper moment, to embrace rapidly the details of all work, without losing sight of its fundamental prin- ciples Fine observation of men and knowledge of character are indispensable ; knowledge of whom to trust, and experience that the best of men are not free from' low instincts and interested motives. —|||tfW.V ■■*»'»'*' i ! f 266 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN Happy is the statesman who recognises such talent, and makes no mistake in his choice. Error is easy ; and cases are not few where statesmen have mistaken for organising talent great intellect and eloquence. Yet these qualities are not only distinct, but almost incompatible. Logical development of thought and dialectical ability seldom go with ability to organise, while the man ready to devise means of action is not often capable of the demonstrative exposition of the plans which have developed in his mind. The organising talent is made manifest in work alone, while eloquence, acting on the mind by means of reason, and by criticism of the opinions of others, attracts men at once, and evokes instantaneously enthusiasm and admiration. Great and sacred is the vocation of power. Worthy of its mission, it animates men, it lends their activity wings, it holds up to all a mirror of justice, energy, and worth. To see such power, to feel its inspiring influence, is a great happiness for every man who loves truth, and yearns for light and virtue. But, unhappy is he who seeks power and cannot find it, or finds instead the pre- tended power of majorities, the power of mobs — despotism in the mirage of freedom. More deplor- able is it still to see power lost to the sentiment of duty and to the knowledge of its calling ; power fulfilling its work unconsciously and formally, under the shield of its dignity. The same forms of procedure remain, the wheels of the mechanism turn as before, but the spirit of life is not in them. Little by little is enfeebled the will to choose men prepared and capable for their work, till men are POWER AND AUTHORITY 267 ' no longer chosen at all, but appointed at random through casual impulses and fortuitous mterests. Then vanish the traditions of procedure Preserved by tried and devoted workers. The school m which the young were trained by the experience of the old is destroyed, while those who undertake the work for the sake of personal interest or to bu.ld their careers, shifting ceaselessly in the eager chase for advancement, leave behind them no abiding trace of their labours. In all practical activity art is needed as a factor of animation. This art is acquired by rational and conscientious labour, which in its turn has need of a guide also. Thus, every institution established for practical work must at the same time be a school, in which the younger generations of workers may study the art of their work, under the guidance of their elders. On this are affirmed the essential interests of every work and the moral forces which animate it. With such conditions an mstitut^n may develop and be perfected, keeping before itself a clear horizon ; a path whereby to advance But when institutions, restricted to the vulgar paths of formalism, decay and become moribund, they cease to be schools of art, and remain mere machines, around which hireling labourers pass in succession. The horizon is obscured, aspiration dies, and progress ceases. Such may be the fate of the new institutions which multiply with the increasing complexity of ^litical and civic life. Such is the fate of the school with its multitude of pupils, masters, and ubjecis of study, when its chairs are filled by teachers unprepared and incapable, who make their teaching \ 268 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN a trade for the sake of bread ; the spirit of life departs, and the institution becomes incapable of educating and training the young generation. Such is the fate which overtakes the institutions of justice, however complex and perfect their procedure may be, when they cease to be schools for the cultivation of know- ledge and experience in jurisprudence ; the forms wither and die, the spirit of life vanishes, and justice becomes a mere machine, operated by hirelings. The conceptions formed of power by those who seek it are various as the passions and aspirations of mankind. The masses, whose speculations are restricted to their daily life, are possessed by a desire to improve their condition, without any other con- siderations. Among others, the ruling impulse in the search for power is ambition. The self-love of every man, however insignificant by nature, is susceptible of rapid and infinite development, and may attain monstrous dimensions. Each, however small, sees others with still less capacity, who, under favourable circumstances, have contrived to climb to the roof of some building, and look complacently down on the masses that crawl upon the earth. To belong to the congregation, even of these dii minorum gentium^ is seductive for the little man ; then he sees on the horizon buildings higher still, and from his little perch how pleasant it is to see a higher roof, to climb to it, and to see on the far horizon the clouds on which the dii majorum gentium are enthroned ! There have been many cases of elevation such as this. Such are the planes on which aspire the imagina- tions of the mediocre and the little. Seldom does one POWER AND AUTHORITY 269 of them ask himself, " Who am I ? Am I capable of the work which I undertake with my elevation ? Can I accomplish it? And how shall I answer for 't? ' And such questions are quickly dimmed m the light of an imaginary glory; the questioner compares himself with many enthroned around him, and regains his shaken confidence. Leaving these lower paths, how varied and exalted, and, alas, how deceptive are all the aspirations to power ! Knowledge of two things is essential for the consecration of a man in power. The first is shown in the eternal precept, "Know thyself"; the other, "Know thy surroundings." Both are necessary to the conscious expression and execution of the human will, to influence on the wills of others, and to creation on whatever field of action, great or small. Action takes place in the world of reality ; the laws of reason are at the same time the laws of nature and of life. He who ignores these laws and will not submit to them is unworthy of his work. The imagination of man, nourished on the vague although ennobling aspirations of the spirit, but neglected by reality, exalts to infinite heights the human soul, impelling men to conceive themselves capable of work, by painting before them illusory pictures of happiness and truth. Thus is engendered a deceptive confidence, which by slow degrees may develop into faith in a destiny. And when with this faith is joined the adoration of abstract ideas and axioms, which, as seemingly they work by themselves, apparently only need application to human relations to renovate the world in order and equity, this con- fidence acquires the nature of dogmatism, and, by l! \ i l|!l a 270 REFLECTIONS OF A RUSSIAN STATESMAN inciting the mind, begets a passionate aspiration to power, avowedly in the name of the higher principles of truth and virtue, but in reality in the name of the overgrown self " I will command," says the aspirant to power, " and my word will work wonders," for he fancies that words of command, as a magic wand, can act by them- selves. Poor man, before he commands he has first to learn to obey ! Before he has given orders, he must learn to hear them, and to listen to questioning. He must pass through the school of duty, where each in his place and time must faithfully and duly play his part in harmony with the parts of a host of others. He must learn to remember that orders do not spring forth armed as Minerva from the head of Jupiter, but are the last links in an infinite chain of reasoning ; an infinite chain of causes and effects. The imaginations of benevolent men draw pictures of good works ; they wish to do good and to serve as instruments of good. Alas, goodness is but a little way on the path to the doing of good ! Even he who wishes to do good after the precept of the Evangel out of his own estate, will at last be taught by experience that the doing of good to men in its truest sense is a wearying and burdensome task. How much more difficult is it to do good out of the capital of power with which men are invested ! It is well for a man if when thinking of himself and of his power he does not for a minute forget that power belongs to him for the sake of the general welfare and for the benefit of the State ; that in his sphere of action the little store of strength he has cannot and must not be transformed into a horn of plenty, POWER AND AUTHORITY 271 from which to scatter liberal gifts and many rewards. It is well if he does not forget that the power entrusted to him by the State to judge the merits of men, the justice of things, and the lawfulness of needs which cry for help, cannot, and must not, in his hands be perverted into favouritism and protection, for the temptation is strong to good men and to vain men, and goodness and vanity too often are joined. How sweet it is to meet on all sides grateful and affectionate glances ! The seduction of this vanity may lead power to extreme weakness, to the confusion of merit and capacity with baseness and stupidity, to the demoralisation of subordinates by the general hunt for promotion and by an in- creased desire for honours, rewards, and monetary gratifications. The first essential of righteous power is "a just standard." It gives the strength to judge by merit, and to allot to each a task no higher and no lower than his deserts. It teaches the preservation of human dignity in self and in others, and the distinc- tion of faults which may not be tolerated from human weaknesses which ask for indulgence and care. It maintains all power in allegiance to its high calling, impelling and inspiring it to study the men and the work confided to its charge. It gives stead- fastness to the orders that issue from power, and to the words of power a creative force. And he who has lost this standard through idleness or indiffer- ence forgets that the work which he neglects is a work of God. W. H. WHITE AND CO. LIMITBU, RIVERSIDE PRESS, EDINBURGH. \h By W, T, STEAD. Crown Svo, Cloth^ 6s* e King's Cha A Political Romance, v.- ::::!fl'^T^r^^^,i%Z:WW^ AN EXTRACT FROM Mr STEAD'S PREFACE " Why Blastus just now ? First, because for some time the question of peace and war largely turned upon the P^'^^''''^]''yf''^,^Zft\an the Colonial Secretary; and secondly, I cannot resis^Jl^e ter^^^^^^^^^ of republishing the story because it— although wntten nearly three yearsCo-anticipates so curiously the leading features of the existmg Si^^-day.^. . Whatlr^rtoistheextraordman^^^^^^^ which made me predict in 1895 that Lord Salisbury and Mr Chamber lain would come into antagonism with each o her upon a West African dispute, involving issues of peace or war with France. The dispute fn^Wes't Africa has arisen almost precisely in the way m whic^^^^^^ described it-viz. by the intrusion of a French ^^^ce, under cover of an invitation from a native chief, into territory which lay unmis- takably within our sphere of influence, but over which we had not cstabH^rran^ effect'ive occupation. Readers of the story will find that the phrases, the pretexts, the arguments, which have been used so frequently of late in the French and English P^^e^sjeje anticipated three years ago in the pages of Blastus. ... I think he perusal of 'Blastus' will enable many of those who do not follow closely the trend of events in West Africa to understand better than they otherwise would the questions on which hang our ^f e"^^ contro^^^^^^^^ with France. Whether the scene is in Downing Street, in West Ska or Tn Paris, I think the reader will find the case for both the contending parties stated sympathetically and accurately. GRANT RICHARDS, 9 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. / By GRANT ALLEN- Demy SvOy Cloth^ 208* net. The Evolution of the Idea of God s An Enquiry into the Origins of Religions- SOME PRESS OPINIONS. The World/ . ». ,. " This book, the outcome of twenty years of thought and ten years of writing, is certainly one of the most important contri- butions to the history of the human mind which the last decade has given us. . . . We have no space to trace further the unfoldmg of these suggestive ideas, which are developed and illustrated with a brightness uncommon in books of serious purposes. The present work, Mr Allen says, is but a sketch which will be filled in and amplified if the public is sufficiently interested. The Dally Chronicle / *'The sympathetic spirit in which Mr Allen treats a delicate and complex subject should have kindly consideration from those to whom the story of man's beliefs and guesses about the unseen makes appeal. ... 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The Scotsman/ '* It will be understood by every one that the subject Mr Allen has chosen would be handled by him in a thoroughly scientific manner, and in absolute independence of all theological theories. . . . The writer has collected an immense number of facts bearing on the development of religion, and has put them together in a most interesting way. The more educated part of the world is prepared for a work like this, and we have no doubt it will be read by many with the deepest interest. GRANT RICHARDS, 9 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. Letters from Julia j or Light from the Borderland j A Scries of Messages as to the Life beyond the Grave received by Automatic Writing from One who has gone before* Edited by W, T, STEAD, Second Edition. i6mo, Cloth, 2s« AN EXTRACT FROM Mr STEAD'S PREFACE "Automatic writing is writing that is written by the hand of a person which is not under control of his conscious mind. Ihe Tand apparently writes of itself, the person to whom the hand belongs having no knowledge of what it is about to write. It is a ^i^ familiar Ind simple form of mediumship, which in no way immirs the writer's faculties or places 1^\^ P^^^s^^^^^^y Jil^^ Vnm coMrol of any other intelligence. This wntmg may proceed from his subconscious mind, or it may be due to the ^irec acU^"/^^^^^ dependent but invisible intelligences What »« certain is hat it does not emanate from the conscious mind of the writer, who often receives messages containing information as to past events of whi^*^ *ie has never heard, and sometimes perfectly accurate predictions as to events which have not yet happened. It was m this way that I began to Teceive the communications, some few of which are collected in this Httle volume. All the * Letters from Julia' were , received by me in the same manner. Sitting alone, with a tranqml ^"J^? Ij^^^^^^^^ Dlaced my right hand, with the pen held m the ordinary Nvay, at Se disp^L^f Julia, and watched with keen and sceptical interest o see what it w^uld write. The bulk of the first series was written as letterfrom Julia to Ellen. They were written as from one friend to anothe; beginning and ending just as if the writer were st^m the body instead of having to rely upon the loan of my hand. The second series was written for publication at irregu ar intervals. The first sere is really a compost of extracts from letters which were written every week^ for neLly six months, with ^om- J"^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ observations made to me at the time of writing. 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Venice Three volumes in the series have already appeared, Paris, Florence, and Cities of Belgium; and Rome and Cities of Northern Italy are ifi prepara- tion. Of the general need for the series, the Morning Post says : — *' That much-abused class of p>eople, the tourists, have often been taunted with their ignorance and want of culture, and the perfunctory manner in which they hurry through, and ' do ' the Art Galleries of Europe. There is a large amount of truth, no doubt, but they might very well retort on their critics that no one had come forward to meet their wants, or assist in dispelling their ignorance. No doubt there are guide- books, very excellent ones in their way, but on all matters of art very little better than mere indices ; something fuller was required to enable the average man intelligently to appreciate the treasures submitted to his view. Mr. Grant Allen has offered to meet their wants, and offers these handbooks to the public at a price that ought to be within the reach of every one who can afford to travel at all. The idea is a good one, and should ensure the success which Mr. Allen deserves." Grant Allen's Historical Guides are bound in green cloth, with rounded corners, to slip into the pocket. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. each, net. 3 Beta ifiction BY FREDERIC BRETON Author of "The Black Mass," "The Trespasses of Two," etc True Heart Being Passages in the Life of Eberhard Treuherz, Scholar and Craftsman, telling of his Wanderings and Adventures, his Intercourse with People of Consequence to their Age, and hotv he came scatheless through a Time of Strife While doing his best to retain ample romantic interest, Mr^r ton's intention has been to present a true pic:ture of the time rather than to produce a mere novel of incident. In One Volume, 6s. BY GEORGE EGERTON Author of " Keynotes," " Discords," etc The Wheel of God Hitherto " George Egerton's " books have been rnade S St stories " The Wheel of God " is her first long n^ve and dfa with woman's life both in America and m England Its note is one rather of reaction than of revolt. In One Volume, 6s. BY G. B. BURGIN Author of " ' Old Man's' Marriage," " Tuxter's Little Maid," etc. The Cattle Man In One Volume, 6s. [^^^^> 4 jSeto iFiction BY LEONARD MERRICK Author of " One Man's View," " Cynthia," etc. The Actor- Manager Mr. Merrick writes of theatrical life in London and the provinces from a fulness of knowledge : he has been both actor and dramatist. His story here is that of an actor's progress, social and artistic, and of the clash of ideas with the hard necessity of the box-office. In One Volume, 6s. BY HUGH CLIFFORD Author of " In Court and Kampong.'* Studies in Brown Humanity Being Scrawls and Smudges in Sepia, White, and Yellow Mr. Hugh Clifford, who occupies the important post of British Resident at Pahang in the Malay Peninsula, achieved considerable success with his first book, "In Court and Klampong," of which this book is in some sense a con- tinuation, dealing as it does with the tragic, eventful lives of the varied peoples among whom lies his work. " The chief aim is to portray character, to reveal to the European thoughts, passions, and aspirations which unfold themselves but slowly even to him who for long years has lived the life of his Asiatic associates in places remote from the sound of western civilisation. ... In this effort Mr. Clifford has achieved a considerable success ; and as he writes also in a bright style, which has a distinctly literary flavour, his Avork is not less welcome for the information which it gives than interesting as a siory' \)OfAi"—Atherutum on " In Court and Kampong." In One Volume, 6s. BY GRANT ALLEN Linnet: a Romance The story of a Tyrolese peasant-girl who becomes a great singer. The scenes are laid in the Tyrol, in London, Monte Carlo, and elsewhere: the treatment varying between the idyllic and the novel of society. In One Volume, 6s. \/une. / iSeto JFiction By marie and ROBERT LEIGHTON Convict 99 A True Story of Penal Servitude With 8 Full-page Illustrations by Stanley L. Wood. In One Volume, 3s. 6d, -^^ ''^^ By HALDANE MACFALL The Wooings of Jezebel Pettyfer Being the Personal History of Jehu Sennacherib Dyle, Commonly called Masheen Dyle A realistic story of West Indian negro life, written with sympathy and knowledge, Mr. Macfall having held, for a considerable period, a commission in a West Indian regiment. " He has aimed at givmg us," says The Literary World in an advance note on the book, " negro views of life, negro religious prejudices, and negro superstitions. The hero is a Zouave, and the chief characters are negroes— actmg and living like negroes— and not, as in most books of the kind, travesties of the white man." j^ ^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^ By Dr. J. CAMPBELL OMAN Where Three Creeds Meet A Tale of Indian Life In One Volume, 3s. 6d. By W. T. stead Blastus, the King's Chamberlain A reprint, with a new introduction of considerable length, of an old Christmas number of the Review of Reviews^ long out of print. In the tale, Mr. Stead made the experiment of prophesying the immediate future of a prominent politician whose identity is only thinly veiled. Events have given that prophecy an extreme interest, which Mr. Stead's new introduction greatly enhances. In One Volume, 6s. 6 / 3I3eto JFiction By W. C. morrow The Ape, the Idiot, and other People Mr. Morrow, an American, has produced here a collection of short stories of the weird, the horrible, and the grotesque, reminding us now of Robert Louis Stevenson, now of Edgar Allan Poe, and now of Mr. H. G. Wells, but retaining at the same time a note of his own that is likely to make his volume a considerable success. In One Volume, 6s. By M. p. SHIEL Author of " Prince Zaleski," etc The Yellow Danger The plot of this story is laid in the present year, the first chapters dealing with those incidents in the Far East that have so fluttered the chancelleries of the West. A great leader — half Chinese, half Japanese — unites the yellow races, and conceives the idea of setting the nations of Europe at war by giving to the three great Continental powers vast tracts of Chinese land. The policy of the "open door " forces England to fight the coalition, and, as a result, the object of the East is achieved — Europe is decimated and enfeebled, lying open to the locust swarm of the yellow races (the "Yellow Danger" of the Spectator), And then — then England saves the world. Although dealing with so vast a subject, there is no lack of personal interest and individual incident in Mr. Shiel's work. In One Volume, 6s. By F. C. CONSTABLE Author of " The Curse of Intellect." Aunt Judith's Island A Comedy of Kith and Kin A satirical novel of society and European politics. In Aunt Judith the author has added to that gallery of resourceful women (which already is graced by Mrs. Poyser and Betsy Trotwood, Gainor Wynne, Old Pummeloe, and Mrs. Major O'Dowd) a millionaire with pronounced views on Socialism and enough opportunism to stock three Prime Ministers. How Aunt Judith reconciles the various branches of her family, and conducts the Concert of Europe, one must read the story 10 discover. In One Volume, 6s. / Drama By GEORGE BERNARD SHAW Plays : Pleasant and Unpleasant /. Unpleasant IL Pleasant With special Portrait in photogravure of the Author. The existence of a number of unpublished and un- performed plays by Mr. Shaw has been, for some time past, discussed with the interest which his work never fails to arouse. Mr. Shaw has his own views about the pnntmg of work intended for the stage : he holds that the mere printing of the "prompt copy" is insufficient, and that " the institution of a new art " is necessary. So, in the two volumes now in the press, the customary meagre stage directions and scenic specifications will be found replaced by finished descriptions, vivid character-sketches, physio- logic notes, sallies, and comments, in which the author's literary force is as conspicuous as in the dialogue. There is a lengthy introduction to the first volume, and prefaces to each play. In Two Volumes. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth. 5 s. each. \Ready April 6. By VICTOR HUGO Hernani Translated into English Verse, with an Introduction By R. Farquharson Sharp. Small 4to. Boards. 3s. 6d. net. \Ready, By LOUISA SHORE Hannibal With Portrait in photogravure of the Author. Mr Frederic Harrison writes: "I have read and re-r^ 'H?""i^' w»^ a<|- mir^tVon^S? historical romance, carefully studied from the original histories, it is SrconwpSon 7i g^^^^^ . . . The merit of this piece S to have seized the hiSioric^ cSons with such reality and such truth, and to have kept so sustained a flight at a high level of heroic dignity. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s. net 8 \Rtady, Poetrp By LAURENCE BINYON Author of " London Visions " Porphyrion and other Poems Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s. net. \Ready, By WALTER LEAF, LL.D. Versions from Hafiz An Essay in Persian Metre " For Hafiz, at least as much as for any poet," says Dr. Leaf in his introduction, "form is of the essence of his poetry," and an attempt is here made " to give English readers some idea of the most intimate and indissoluble bond of spirit and form " in his odes. " And with it all one must try to convey some joint reminder of the fact that Hafiz is, as few poets have been, a master of words and rhythms." Small 4to. Linen. 5s.net. Also ten copies on Japanese vellum^ numbered and signed by the Author ^ 2\s. net, [Ready. By EUGENE LEE-HAMILTON Author of " Sonnets of the Wingless Hours," etc. The Inferno of Dante translated with Plain Notes Mr. Lee- Hamilton's aim has been to secure a litu-for-Iine translation. Fcap. 8vo. Half Parchment. 5s. net. \Ready. By LAURENCE HOUSMAN Author of " Gods and their Makers," etc Spikenard A Book of Devotional Love Poems With Cover designed by the Author. Small 4to. Boards. 3s. 6d. net \Ready, By W. p. reeves Agent-General for New Zealand New Zealand, and other Poems Fcap. 8vo. Paper Wrapper. 9 2s. net. \Ready, ^ By KATHARINE TYNAN (MRS. HiNKSON) The Wind in the Trees A Book of Cottntry Verse Fcap. 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. net ^^ -^^ ^^ A SERIES OF LITHOGRAPHED DRAWINGS BY WILL ROTHENSTEIN With an Introduction by the Artist, and Short Texts by various hands. <:n>, -<::> The following Portraits are included in this Collection, each from sittings specially given to Mr. Rothenstein :— Mr. Grant Allen Mr. William Archer Lord Charles Beresford, M.P. Mr. Robert Bridges Mr. Walter Crane Right Rev. Dr. Creighton Mr. Sidney Colvin Mr. George Gissing Marchioness of Granby Sir F. Seymour Haden Mr. Thomas Hardy Mr. W. E. Henley Sir Henry Irving Mr. Henry James Mr. W. E. H. Lecky, M.P. Professor A. Legros Mrs. Meynell Mr. A. W. Pinero Sir Frederick Pollock Mr. Charles Ricketts Mr. John Sargent, R.A. Mr. Charles Haselwood Shannon Mr. George Bernard Shaw Miss Ellen Terry " Admirably life-like, ... and the style of publication makes it very attractive." '^The'^drawings are lithographs, rough sketches rather than elaborate drawings, but they show that Mr. Rothenstein has thoroughly mastered his method, and knows how to use it with most commendable self-restraint. They arc admirable examples of the style of drawing which he has made his own, and which has much to recommend it. — Scotsman. Folio. In Buckram Cover specially designed by the Artist. 35 s. net. Also in Parts, each containing Two Portraits. 2S. 6d. net. \Ready, 10 ^i0torp By The Rev. A. G. B. ATKINSON, M.A. St. Botolph, Aldgate The Story of a City Parish^ compiled from the Record Books and other Ancient Documents, With a Supplementary Chapter by the Vicar Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5 s. net. \Ready, ^^ -^^ -^^ By TEMPLE SCOTT A Bibliography of Omar Khayyam With Prefatory Note by Edward Clodd, Ex-President of the Omar Khayyam Club. Fcap. 8vo. Buckram. 5 s. net. Edited by W. T. STEAD Letters from Julia Or^ Light from the Borderland: a Series of Messages as to the Life beyond the Grave received by Automatic Writing from one who has gone before i6mo. Cloth. 2s. \Second Edition ready, II By CARVETH READ, M.A. Logic : Deductive and Inductive Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. <^ <;> By EMMA BROOK A Tabulation of the Factory Laws of European Countries In so far as they Relate to the Hours of Labour and Special Legislation for Women, Young Persons, and Children Demy 8vo. Half Cloth. 2S. 6d. net. H.R.H. The Prince of Wales An Account of his Career, including his Birth, Education, Travels, Marriage, and Home Life and Philanthropic, Social, and Political Work With one hundred Portraits and other Illustrations. *• It is pleasant to be reminded of these things in the interesting manner in which the writer reminds us of them, and to study the numerous and well-selected illustra- tions which reach back to the infancy of the Prince, On the whole the execution of the book is to be commended. ... It is easy to sec that the anonymous author is very well informed, and has had access to other sources of information than the books mentioned in the preface." — The Times. " The author shows throughout the skill which one expects of an accomplbhed writer. The book is brightly written ; it is interesting from beginning to end, and it contains an amount of information about His Royal Highness which is quite surpris- ing in so small a compass. Few things are more difficult than to write a biography of a distinguished living person which shall be at once truthful, adequate, unim- peachable in the article of good taste, and yet not dull. Every reader of this life of the Prince of Wales will admit that this difficulty has been faced and successfully overcome." — Literature. Royal 8vo. Cloth. Gilt Extra. los. 6d. {Ready, 12 Spring, 1898 ALLEN, GRANT. Linnet : a Romance. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. The Evolution of the Idea of God : an Inquiry into the Origins of Religions. Demy 8vo. Buck- ram. 2 OS. net. {Second Edition, Grant Allen's Historical Guides : Paris. Florence. Cities of Belgium. Venice. Rome. Cities of Northern Italy. Fcap. Svo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. each, net. \Ready. » ») \In preparation. 5> ft " Good work in the way of showing students the right manner of approaching the history of a great city. . . . These useful little volumes."— 71rV««. " Those who travel for the sake of culture will be well catered for in Mr. Grant Allen's new series of historical guides. . . . There are few more satisfactory books for a student who wishes to dig out the Paris of the past from the immense super- incumbent mass of coffee-houses, kiosks, fashionable hotels, and other temples of civilisation, beneath which it is now submerged. Florence is more easily dug up, as you have only to go irito the picture galleries, or into the churches or museums, whither Mr. Allen's guide accordingly conducts you, and tells you what to look at if you want to understand the art treasures of the city. The books, in a word, explain rather than describe. Such books are wanted nowadays. . . , "The more sober-minded amon£[ tourists will be grateful to him for the skill with which the new series promises to minister to their Ti^fA.%." —Scotsman. ** Mr. Grant Allen, as a traveller of thirty-five years' experience in foreign lands, is well qualified to command success in the task he has set himself, and nothing in the two volumes under notice is more striking than the strong sense conveyed of his powers of observation and the facility with which he describes the objects of art and the architectural glories which he has met and lingered over. ... It would be a pity indeed were his assiduous researches and the fruits of his immense experience, now so happily exemplified, to pass unnoticed either by 'globe trotters' or by students of art and history who have perforce to stay at home. —Daily Telegraph, *' No traveller going to Florence with any idea of understanding its art treasures, can afford to dispense with Mr. Grant Allen's guide. He is so saturated with in- formation gained by close observation and close study. He is so candid, so sincere, so fearless, so interesting, and his little book is so portable and so pretty."— Queen. . . Mr. w , , his art criticisms, he goes to the heart of the matter, is outspoken concerning those things he despises, and earnest when describing those in which his soul delights. . . . The books are genuinely interesting to the ordinary reader, whether he have travelled or not, and unlike the ordinary guide-book may be read ivith advantage both before and after the immediate occasion of their use."— Birmingham Gazette 13 " Not only admirable, but also, to the intelligent tourist, indispensable. . Allen has the artistic temperament. . . . With his origins, his traditions, (5rant iaicftams'g publications An African Millionaire : Episodes in the Life of the Illustrious Colonel Clay. With over Sixty Illus- trations by Gordon Browne. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. \Fifth Edition, " It is not often that the short stoiy of this class can be made as attractive and as exciting as are many of the Colonel's episodes. Let us be thankful for these, and hasten to commend ' An African Millionaire ' to the notice of all travellers; We can imagine no book of the season more suitable for an afternoon in a hammock or a lazy day in the woods. And the capital illustrations help an excellent dozen of stones on their way." — Daily Chronicle. " For resourcefulness, for sardonic humour, for a sense of the comedy of the situa- tion, and for pluck to carry it through, it would be difficult to find a more entertain- ing scoundrel than Colonel Q\z.y"— Daily Neivs. "This book is a good example of Mr. Grant Allen's talents. It is only a collection of tales describing now a very rich man is again and again victimised by the same adventurer, but it has not only plenty of dramatic incident, but of shrewd and wise reflection, such as is seldom found in the modem novel."— Mr. Jambs Payn in the Illustrated London News. ALMA TADEMA, LAURENCE. Realms of Unknown Kings : Poems. Fcap. 8vo. Paper Wrapper. 2S. net. Buckram. 3s. net. ANSTEY, F. Paleface and Redskin, and other Stories for Boys and Girls. With Illustrations by Gordon Browne. [/« preparation, ATKINSON, A. G. B., M.A. St. Botolph, Aldgate : The Story of a City Parish, compiled from the Record Books and other Ancient Documents. With a Supplementary Chapter by the Vicar. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s. net. BELL, R. S. WARREN. (See Henrietta Volumes.) BINYON, LAURENCE. Porphyrion and other Poems. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s. net. BRETON, FREDERIC. True Heart : a Novel. Crown Svo. Cloth. 6s. 14 ^t, ®rant iafc&atDs's Pu&Iicationg BROOK, EMMA. A Tabulation of the Factory Laws of Euro- pean Countries, in so far as they relate to the Hours of Labour and Special Legislation for Women, Young Persons, and Children. Demy Svo. Half Cloth. 2s. 6d. net. BURGIN, G. B. The Cattle Man : a Novel. " Old Man's " Marriage : A Novel. (A Sequel to "The Judge of the Four Corners.") Crown Svo. Cloth. 6s. each. " Mr. Burein's best qualities conie to the front in ' " Old Man's" Marriage.' . . . Miss Wilkes has nearly as much individuality as any one in the story, which is saying a good deal, for reality seems to gather round all the characters in spite of the romance that belongs to them as well . . . the story is fresh and full of charm." — Sta$idard. " Mr. Burgin's humour is both shrewd and kindly, and his book should prove as welcome as a breath of fresh air to the weary readers of realistic fiction." — Daily Telegraph. "'Old Man's' Marriage is told with such humour, high spirit, simplicity, and straightforwardness that the reader is amused and entertained from the first page to the UsL^ Once I had begun it I had to go on to the end ; when I put it down it was with a sigh to part with such excellent company. ... As thoroughly enjoy- able and racily written a story as has been published for a long time." — Mr. Coulson Krrnahan in the Star. '• It would be difficult to speak too highly of the delicate pathos and humour of this beautiful sketch of a choice friendship in humble life. ... A study at once simple and subtle and full of the dignity and sincerity of natural man." — Manchester Guardian. CLIFFORD, HUGH (British Resident at Pahang). Studies in Brown Humanity: Being Scrawls and Smudges in Sepia, White, and Yellow. Crown Svo. Cloth. 6s. « In Court and Kampong : Being Tales and Sketches of Native Life in the Malay Peninsula. Large Crown Svo. Cloth. 7s. 6d. " Mr. Clifford undoubtedly possesses the gift of graphic description in a high degree, and each one of these stories grips the reader's attention most insistently. The whole book is alive with drama and passion ; but, as we have said, its greatest charm lies in the fact that it paints in strikingly minute detail a state of things which, whether for good or ill, is rapidly vanishing from the face of the earth." — Speaker. " These tales Mr. Clifford tells with a force and life-likeness such as is only to be equalled in the stories of Rudyard Kipling. Take, for instance, the gruesome story of the were-tiger, man by day and man-eater by night. . . . Everyone of these tales leaves its impression, dramatic yet lifelike. Moreover, they are valuable as giving a picture of strange, distorted civilisation which, under the influence of British residents and officials, will soon pass away or hide itself jealously from the gaze of Western eyes."— -Pa// Mall Gazette. 15 A V 1 (Srant Eic6arD!5'0 Publications CLODD, EDWARD. Pioneers of Evolution from Thales to Huxley, with an intermediate chapter on the Causes of Arrest of the Movement With portraits in photogravure of Charles Darwin, Professor Huxley, Mr. A. R. Wallace, and Mr. Herbert Spencer. Crown 8vo. Linen. 5s. net. [Second Edition. "We are always glad to meet Mr. Edward Clodd. He is never dull ; he is always well informed, and he says what he has to say with clearness and incision. . . . The interest intensifies as Mr. Clodd attempts to show the part really played in the growth of the doctrine of evolution by men like Wallace, Darwin, Huxley, and Spencer. Mr. Clodd clears away prevalent misconceptions as to the work of these modern pioneers. Especially does he give to Mr. Spencer the credit which is his due, but which is often mistakenly awardedto Darwin. Mr. Clodd does not seek in the least to lower Darwin from the lofty pedestal which he rightly occupies ; he only seeks to show precisely why he deserves to occupy such a position. We commend the book to those who want to know what evolution really means ; but they should be warned beforehand that they have to tackle strong meat." — Times. " There is no better book on the subject for a general reader, and while its matter is largely familiar to professed students of science, and indeed to most men who are well read, no one could go through the book without being both refreshed and newly instructed by its masterly survey of the growth of the most powerful idea of modem times." — Scoistnafi. CONSTABLE, F. C. Aunt Judith's Island: a Comedy of Kith and Kin. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. DANTE. {See Lee-Hamilton.) DIXON, H. SYDENHAM (" Vigilant " of the Sportsman). From Gladiateur to Persimmon : Turf History for Thirty Years. With portraits. Demy 8vo. DUMPY BOOKS FOR CHILDREN. Edited by E. V. Lucas, and with End-papers designed by Mrs. Farmiloe. i8mo. Cloth, is. 6d. each. 1. The Flamp, the Ameliorator, and the Schoolboy's Apprentice : Three Stories. By Edward Verrall Lucas. 2. Mrs. Turner's Cautionary Stories. EGERTON, GEORGE. The Wheel of God : a Novel. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. 16 \s \ ear in volume form. . . . Story b hardly the name to em- ploy in the case of these impressionist pictures. They have the suggestive merit of the school and none of its vagueness." — Mottling Post. •• It is impossible to read ' Little Stories about Women ' without a feeling of blank astonishment that their author should be so very little more than a name to the read- ing public. ... It is difficult to imagine anything better in its way— and its way is thoroughly modern and up to date— than the first of the collection, ' By Accident ' It IS very short, very terse, but the whole story is suggested with admirable art. 1 here is nothing unfinished about it, and the grip with which the carriage accident which opens it is presented never relaxes."— ^rant IRicftattis's IPublicationg HOUSMAN, LAURENCE. Spikenard : a Book of Devotional Love Poems. With Cover designed by the Author. Small 4to. Boards. 3s. 6d. net. H.R.H. The Prince of Wales: an Account of His Career, including his Birth, Education, Travels, Marriage, and Home Life and Philanthropic, Social, and Political Work. Royal 8vo. Cloth. los. 6d. With one hundred Portraits and other Illustrations. HUGO, VICTOR. Hernani : a Drama, translated into English Verse, with an Introduction by R. Farquharson Sharp. Small 4to. Boards. 3s. 6d. net. LEAF, WALTER, LL.D. Versions from Hafiz : an Essay in Persian Metre. Small 4to. Linen. 5 s. net. (A/so Ten Copies on Japanese Vellum, numbered and signed by the Author, 2 IS. net.) LEAKE, MRS. PERCY. The Ethics of Browning's Poems. With Intro- duction by the Bishop of Winchester. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth. 2S. 6d. LEE, VERNON. Limbo and other Essays. With Frontispiece. Fcap. 8vo. Buckram. 5 s. net. " The brilliant and versatile writer who adopts the pseudonsrm of Vernon Lee affords a dainty feast to her readers in this charming little volume." — Tifnes. " For charm, that 'delicate and capricious foster-child of leisure,' Vernon Lee's latest work, small as it b, is the equal of anything that she has yet produced."— Morning Post. " ThS little volume might be called a manual of the cultivated soul adventuruig among masterpieces of art and natural beauties. It brings to the enjoyment of these a power of association which traverses seas and years, and refreshes the mind with images summoned from the recesses of memory. They are pitched in a pleasant conversational way, frankly, even daringly, personal, and are strewn with vivid descriptions of Italian scenes and places."— AfaftcArster Guardian. " 'Limbo and other Essays' is amongst the most welcome of recent books. . . • Few essayists see so many beautiful things as Vernon Lee, and fewer still, having seen them, say so many beautiful things about them."— Mr. Richard lk Gallienne in the Star. LEE-HAMILTON, EUGENE. The Inferno of Dante translated with Plain Notes. Fcap. 8vo. Half Parchment 5s. net. 18 \ ®rant Eic&ams'g PuWicationg LE GALLIENNE, RICHARD. Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam : a Paraphrase from several Literal Translations. Fropi the press of Messrs. T. and A. Constable of Edinburgh. Long Fcap. 8vo. Parchment. 5 s. Also a very limited Edition on Japanese Vellum, numbered and signed by the Author. 1 5s. net. [All sold LEIGHTON, MARIE CONNOR and ROBERT. Convict 99 : a Novel With Eight full-page Illustra- tions by Stanley L.Wood. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. LOWNDES, FREDERIC SAWREY. Bishops of the Day : a Biographical Dictionary of the Archbishops and Bishops of the Church of England, and of all Churches in Communion there- with throughout the World. Fcap. Svo. Cloth 5s La^Kf^^c^l^^^^^^ su^^estion ofpartisan bias on the part of the SLUthor."— Times "°°P' *"^0"t any time ^""'^Xenf^^TA^f "^""l^^ ^^^u" acceptable to Churchmen of the present lnTerWt."---bw%/ '"'" "' '^^ "«'' ^°"' ^ "^" ^ "^"-^ -' -ore Uian "The work is thoroughly up to date, as one may see from the Episconal event* of 1896 and 1897 here recorded. It abounds in personal incidents ami S^eSfof^^?^ »! be found elsewhere and evidently derived froiToriginal Sfd accSkJ^sourcTs Sis^S^-.^r^V^'i.^^-^ """^^^ ^^"^-"y incidentlf rg^Scopai ureent. "Standard. lv"]^'Jn?;.J^'fK^Tnl^" ^^^^^ information contained in the will tt i^Lttd tt%t"tf ^'srsJ^clen^^Sf-b^^^^^ tions which may record the inevitable chaSg^X>£hral^Sfbv L^t ^t translation. Mr- Lowndes deser^^es our very ^cordfrtCli for a pi^T^f wor!^ ?^^.&Xf T^^^^r ^^°' ^^ "^"^ -^<^ ^- -^-ed mor? ^^^rfeftly^l' LUCAS, EDWARD VERRALL. A Book of Verses for Children. With Cover, Title-page, and End-papers designed in colours by F. D. Bedford. Crown Svo. Cloth. 6s. ,^ [Third Edition. {See also Dumpy Books for Children.) 19 .r^ It (3xmt micfiarris's PufiHcations MACFALL, HALDANE. The Wooings of Jezebel Pettyfer: a Novel. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. MAETERLINCK, MAURICE. Aglavaine and Selysette : a Drama in Five Acts. Translated by Alfred Sutro. With Introduction by J. W. Mackail, and Title-page designed by W. H. Margetson. Globe 8 vo. Half Buckram. 2s.6d.net. " To read the play is to have one's sense of beauty quickened and enlarged, to be touched by the inward and spiritual grace of thin^. . . . Mr. Sutro is the most conscientious, and at the same time the most ambitious, of translators ; not content with reproducing the author's thought, he strives after the same effect of language— the plaintive note, the dying cadence, the Maeterhncked sweetness long drawn out. And more often than not he succeeds,— which is saying a good deal when one con- siders the enormous difficulties of the task."— Mr. A. B. Walkley in the Speaker. " The book is a treasury of beautiful things. No one now writing loves beauty as M. Maeterlinck does. Sheer, essential beauty has no such lover. He wUl have nothing v\^"— Academy. . ,, ,. , . •• Mr. Alfred Sutro's careful and delicate translation of M. Maunce Maeterlinck s new play gives readers of English every opportunity of appreciating a work which, so to speak, is at the tip of the century. ... The book, as a whole, is perhaps the best yet published by which an English-speakmg stranger to M. Maeterlmck could make his acquaintance." — Scotsman. MERRICK, LEONARD. The Actor -Manager: Cloth. 6s. One Man's View : a Novel. Cr. 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. "A novel over which we could at a pinch fancy ourselves sitting up till the small hours. ... The characters are realised, the emotion is felt and communicated. — Daily Chronicle. n j "An uncommonly well-written story. ... The men in the book are excellent, and the hero ... b an admirable portrait."— 5/a«^-i^^\uJ£''t%Z^-^ri^t^X'^r^^ »«. work wbicb Mr. he IS a master of our feelings and enmtJnnc ;,, h.° j^ character it is superb. In fact • A Peakland Faggot ' w I Slidify tC^eouTaS^^^ ^l'^''^^ ""'^ ^0'""^^. a^d uo of late years.^\he style s ho oughfrfi^^^^^^ O^A^ ^"'" ''^'^^^. ^""^'"g Mr. Murray Gilchrist upon this DerfSinE^.L ' ' ' -l ^^^^ congratulations to true eenius."-^/,,«/«_^L?« SJ; '''^ °^'^ he has used is the magic of ought aIwTy^1ot°w&"e. "^""^Mr TuJaVr^^t^^^. °^ -'^^ ^^^ -^ ^"^terate world of profound human" n ere^t* "-Mr TP^ n-r^""' ^'^ introduced us to a new "I have read no book outsidTilfr H^T'' ^, Connor m the Graphic. ' wit • and sentimentinfr^K^fcH^'L^^rS^^^ J«ch minutia. of country TROUBRIDGE, LADY. ^ wIk |*^P"^^t^er, and One Other Story. With Frontispiece by Mrs. Adrian Hope. Crown ovo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. in^c^i."-Dundte AdviriVer ' ""'"^ "^" ">« '""rest is greaSy -IVetkly SuH. ' ""*'^ " ">« *<"•'' of » fine and cultured wfltCT"" TURNER, ELIZABETH. {See Dumpy Books for Children.) WALDSTEIN, LOUIS, M.D. T^ Subconscious Self and its Relation to Education and Health. Fcap. 8vo. cioth WARBOROUGH, MARTIN LEACH. ^ m'v V,?"'""^^ •• ^ S'-^-y for Children. With Fifty Illustrations by Gertrude Bradley. Globe ovo. Cloth, ss. *3 ^^(O \l (Stmt micbarlis's Pu6Hcation0 WEBB, SIDNEY. .Labour in the Longest Reign (1837 -1897). Issued under the Auspices of the Fabian Society. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth, is. "It is, considering the source from which it comes, a singularly temperate and just review of the changes in the lot of the labourer which the reign has brought" — ScotstftaH. "Mr. Sidney'Webb has set forth some expert and telling comparisons between the condition of the working-classes in 1837 and 1897. His remarks on wages, on the irr^ularity of employment, on hours of labour, and on the housing of the poor, arc worthy of earnest consideration." — Daily Mail. WHELEN, FREDERICK (Editor). Politics in 1896. With Contributions by IL D. Traill, D.C.L. j H. W. Massingham ; G. Bernard Shaw; G. W. Steevens; H. W. Wilson; Captain F. N. Maude ; Albert Shaw, and Robert Donald. . Globe 8vo. Cloth. 3s. net. ' "IFot more reasons than one Mr. Whelen's Political Annual, of which th^ present is the firit issue, deserves a welcome. Not only docs it constitute a handy work of reference, that besides merely enumerating the political wants of the past ^ear shows also the light in which they are regarded by various shades of public opinion, but it calls for recognition as a record of the development of poliucal thought, that, if regularljf issuwl, will be of value to the future historian. . . . The book has attrac- tions for those who wish to understand the various ideas actuating contending parties, and such readers will certainly find entertaining matter in the several contributions." — Morning Post. •' Mr. Whelen has undertaken a difficult task, but the volume which he has just issued is a very interesting and useful retrospect, and all who are interested in con- temporary affairs will be glad to know that it is intended to be an annual. The plan b simple and comprehensive. . . . Mr. Whelen has done a useful work in starting this adventure, and we wish him all success." — Daily Chronicle. "Those who can afford it, which includes at least every Labour Club, ought to possess a copy for their library." — Mr. Keir Hardie in the Labour Leader. WRITTEN, WILFRED. London in Song: an Anthology of Prose and Poetry inspired by London. With an Introduction. Crown 8vo. Buckram. 6s. [/// Preparation, WILLSON, BECKLES. The Tenth Island : Being some Account of New- foundland ; its People, its Politics, and its Peculiari- ties. With an Introduction by Sir William Whiteway, KCM.G., Premier of the Colony, and an Appendix by Lord Charles Beresford. Globe 8vo. Buckram. 3s. 6d. With Map. Printed by R. & R. Clark, Limited, Edinburgh, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES 1010677763 uv 947.01 P75 C.3 4 h ,.f ^'':* X: ^^rr!f^. \lUlb^^ 'ilijijii!!!!!) . n, ^fP 24 1986 0%/?£Z>- f j?Tr*-*'3W^-:^'r^. ;i.L >'n-JLl«j^i-_ *;'-^. •:^: