Chapter XII (2)

One Monday as the brothers were starting out to work, and had
already separated, going in different directions, Afanásy felt
sorry to part with his beloved brother, and halted and glanced
back. Ioánn was walking, with head bowed, in his own direction,
and did not look back. But all of a sudden, Ioánn also halted,
and as though catching sight of something, began to gaze
intently in that direction, shading his eyes with his hand.
Then he approached what he had espied there, suddenly leaped to
one side, and without looking behind him fled down the hill and
up the hill, away from the spot, as though a fierce wild beast
were pursuing him. Afanásy was amazed and went back to the
place in order to find out what had so frightened his brother.
As he came near he beheld something gleaming in the sunlight.
He approached closer. On the grass, as though poured out of a
measure, lay a heap of gold.... And Afanásy was the more
amazed, both at the gold, and at his brother's leap.

"What was he frightened at, and what did he flee from?" said
Afanásy to himself. "There is no sin in gold, the sin is in
man. One can do evil with gold, but one can also do good with
it. How many orphans and widows can be fed, how many naked men
clothed, how many poor and sick healed with this gold. We now
serve people, but our service is small, according to the
smallness of our strength, but with this gold we can serve
people more." Afanásy reasoned thus with himself, and wished to
tell it all to his brother, but Ioánn had gone off out of
earshot, and was now visible on the opposite mountain, no
bigger than a beetle.

And Afanásy took of his garment, raked into it as much gold as
he was able to carry, flung it on his shoulders and carried it
to the city. He came to the inn, gave the gold over to the
innkeeper, and went back after the remainder. And when he had
brought all the gold he went to the merchants, bought land in
the town, bought stone and timber, hired workmen, and began to
build three houses. And Afanásy dwelt three months in the town
and built three houses in the town, one house, an asylum for
widows and orphans, another house, a hospital for the sick and
the needy, a third house for pilgrims and paupers. And Afanásy
sought out three pious old men, and he placed one over the
asylum, another over the hospital, and the third over the
hostelry for pilgrims. And Afanásy had three thousand gold
pieces left. And he gave a thousand to each old man to
distribute to the poor. And people began to fill all three
houses, and men began to laud Afanásy for what he had done.
And Afanásy rejoiced thereat so that he did not wish to leave
the city. But Afanásy loved his brother, and bidding the people
farewell, and keeping not a single gold piece for himself, he
went back to his abode in the same old garment in which he had
quitted it.

Afanásy came to his mountain and said to himself, "My brother
judged wrongly when he sprang away from the gold and fled from
it. Have not I done better?"

And no sooner had Afanásy thought this, than suddenly he
beheld, standing in his path and gazing sternly at him, that
angel who had been wont to bless them. And Afanásy was
stupefied with amazement and could utter only, "Why is this,
Lord?" And the angel opened his mouth and said, "Get thee
hence! Thou art not worthy to dwell with thy brother. Thy
brother's one leap is more precious than all the deeds which
thou hast done with thy gold."

And Afanásy began to tell of how many paupers and wanderers he
had fed, how many orphans he had cared for, and the angel said
to him, "That devil who placed the gold there to seduce thee
hath also taught thee these words."

And then did Afanásy's conscience convict him, and he
understood that he had not done his deeds for the sake of God,
and he fell to weeping, and began to repent. Then the angel
stepped aside, and left open to him the way, on which Ioánn was
already standing awaiting his brother, and from that time forth
Afanásy yielded no more to the temptation of the devil who had
poured out the gold, and knew that not by gold, but only by
labor, can one serve God and men.

And the brothers began to live as before.[46]

Unfortunately, the best of Tolstóy's peasant stories, such as "Polikúshka," "Two Old Men" (the latter belonging to the recent hortatory period), and the like, are too long for reproduction here. But the moral of the following, "Little Girls Wiser than Old Men," is irreproachable, and the style is the same as in the more important of those written expressly for the people.

Easter fell early that year. People had only just ceased to use
sledges. The snow still lay in the cottage yards, but rivulets
were flowing through the village; a big puddle had formed
between the cottages, from the dung-heaps, and two little
girls, from different cottages, met by this puddle--one
younger, the other older. Both little girls had been dressed in
new frocks by their mothers. The little one's frock was blue,
the big one's yellow, with a flowered pattern. Both had red
kerchiefs bound about their heads. The little girls came out to
the puddle, after the morning service in church, displayed
their clothes to each other, and began to play. And the fancy
seized them to paddle in the water. The younger girl was on the
point of wading into the pool with her shoes on, but the elder
girl says, "Don't go Malásha, thy mother will scold. Come, I'll
take off my shoes, and do thou take off thine." The little
lasses took off their shoes, tucked up their frocks and waded
into the puddle, to meet each other. Malásha went in up to her
knees, and says, "It's deep, Akuliushka--I'm afraid" "Never
mind," says she; "it won't get any deeper. Come straight
towards me." They began to approach each other, and Akúlka
says, "Look out, Malásha, don't splash, but walk quietly." No
sooner had she spoken, than Malásha set her foot down with a
bang in the water, and a splash fell straight on Akúlka's
frock. The sarafán was splashed, and some of it fell on her
nose and in her eyes as well. Akúlka saw the spot on her frock,
got angry at Malásha, stormed, ran after her, and wanted to
beat her. Malásha was frightened when she saw the mischief she
had done, leaped out of the puddle, and ran home. Akúlka's
mother came along, espied the splashed frock and spattered
chemise on her daughter. "Where didst thou soil thyself, thou
hussy?" "Malásha splashed me on purpose." Akálka's mother
seized Malásha, and struck her on the nape of the neck. Malásha
shrieked so that the whole street heard her. Malásha's mother
came out. "What art thou beating my child for?" The neighbor
began to rail. One word led to another, the women scolded each
other. The peasant men ran forth, a big crowd assembled in the
street. Everybody shouted, nobody listened to anybody else.
They scolded and scolded. One gave another a punch, and a
regular fight was imminent, when an old woman, Akúlka's
grandmother, interposed. She advanced into the midst of the
peasants, and began to argue with them. "What are you about, my
good men? Is this the season for such things? We ought to be
joyful, but you have brought about a great sin." They paid no
heed to the old woman, and almost knocked one another down, and
the old woman would not have been able to dissuade them had it
not been for Akúlka and Malásha. While the women were
wrangling, Akúlka wiped off her frock, and went out again to
the puddle in the space between the cottages. She picked up a
small stone and began to dig the earth out at the edge of the
puddle, so as to let the water out into the street. While she
was digging away, Malásha came up also, and began to help her
by drawing the water down the ditch with a chip. The peasant
men had just come to blows, when the little girls had got the
water along the ditch to the street, directly at the spot where
the old woman was parting the men.

The little girls came running up, one on one side, the other on
the other side of the rivulet. "Hold on, Malásha, hold on!"
cried Akúlka. Malásha also tried to say something, but could
not speak for laughing.

The little girls ran thus, laughing at the chip, as it floated
down the stream. And they ran straight into the midst of the
peasant men. The old woman perceived them, and said to the men,
"Fear God! Here you have begun to fight over these same little
girls, and they have forgotten all about it long ago, and are
playing together again in love--the dear little things. They
are wiser than you!"

The men looked at the little girls, and felt ashamed of
themselves; and then the peasants began to laugh at themselves,
and went off to their houses.

"Except ye become as little children, ye shall not enter the
kingdom of heaven."

It is a pity that Count Tolstóy, the greatest literary genius of his time, should put his immense talent to such a use as to provoke, on his contradictions of himself, comment like the following, which is quoted from a work by V. S. Soloviéff, an essayist and argumentative writer, who quotes some one on this subject, to this effect:

"Sometimes we hear that the most important truth is in the
Sermon on the Mount; then again, we are told that we must till
the soil in the sweat of our brows, though there is nothing
about that in the Gospels, but in Genesis--in the same place
where giving birth in pain is mentioned, but that is no
commandment at all, only a sad fate; sometimes we are told that
we ought to give everything away to the poor; and then again,
that we never ought to give anything to anybody, as money is an
evil, and one ought not to harm other people, but only one's
self and one's family, but that we ought to work for others;
sometimes we are told that the vocation of women is to bear as
many healthy children as possible, and then, the celibate ideal
is held up for men and women; then again, eating no meat is the
first step towards self-perfection, though why no one knows;
then something is said against liquor and tobacco, then against
pancakes, then against military service as if it were the worst
thing on earth, and as if the primary duty of a Christian were
to refuse to be a soldier, which would prove that he who is not
taken into service, for any reason, is already holy enough."

This may be a trifle exaggerated, but it indicates clearly enough the utter confusion which the teachings of Count Tolstóy produce on ordinary, rational, well-meaning persons.[47] In short, he should be judged in his proper sphere as one of the most gifted authors of any age or country, and judged by his legitimate works in his legitimate province, the novel, as exemplified by "War and Peace" and "Anna Karénin."

The reform movement of the '60's of the nineteenth century ended in a reaction which took possession of society as a whole during the '70's. Apathy, dejection, disenchantment superseded the previous exultation and enthusiastic impulse to push forward in all directions. Dull discontent and irritation reigned in all classes of society and in all parties. Some were discontented with the reforms, regarding them as premature, and even ruinous; others, on the contrary, deemed them insufficient, curtailed, only half-satisfactory to the needs of the country, and merely exasperating to the public demands.

These conditions created a special sort of literary school, which made its appearance in the middle of the '70's, and attained its complete development in the middle of the '80's. We have seen that the same sort of thing had taken place with every previous change in the public sentiment. The first thing which impresses one in this school is the resurrection of artistic feeling, a passion for beauty of imagery and forms, a careful and extremely elegant polish imparted to literary productions in technique. None of the authoritative and influential critics preached the cult of pure art. Yet Gárshin, the most promising of the young authors of the day, who was the very last person to be suspected of that cult, finished his works with the utmost care, so that in elegance of form and language they offer an example of faultless perfection. There can be no doubt that this renaissance of the artistic element of poetry, of beauty, was closely connected with the subsidence of the flood-tide of public excitement and agitation, which up to that time had carried writers along with it into its whirlpools, and granted them neither the time nor the desire to polish and adorn their works, and revel in beauty of forms.

Vsévolod Mikháilovitch Gárshin, the son of a petty landed proprietor in the south of Russia, was born in 1855. Despite his repeated attacks of profound melancholia, which sometimes passed into actual insanity, and despite the brevity of his career (he flung himself down stairs in a fit of this sort and died, in 1889), he made a distinct and brilliant mark in Russian literature.

Gárshin's view of people in general was thus expressed: "All the people whom I have known," he says, "are divided (along with other divisions of which, of course, there are many: the clever men and the fools, the Hamlets and the Don Quixotes, the lazy and the active, and so forth) into two categories, or to speak more accurately, they are distributed between two extremes: some are endowed, so to speak, with a good self-consciousness, while the others have a bad self-consciousness. One man lives and enjoys all his sensations; if he eats he rejoices, if he looks at the sky he rejoices. In short, for such a man, the mere process of living is happiness. But it is quite the reverse with the other sort of man; you may plate him with gold, and he will continue to grumble; nothing satisfies him; success in life affords him no pleasure, even if it be perfectly self-evident. The man simply is incapable of experiencing satisfaction; he is incapable, and that is the end of the matter." And in view of his personal disabilities, it is not remarkable that all his heroes should have belonged to the latter category, in a greater or less degree, some of the incidents narrated being drawn directly from his own experiences. Such are "The Red Flower," his best story, which presents the hallucinations of a madman, "The Coward," "Night," "Attalea Princeps," and "That Which Never Happened." On the other hand, the following have no personal element: "The Meeting," "The Orderly and the Officer," "The Diary of Soldier Ivánoff," "The Bears," "Nadézhda Nikoláevna," and "Proud Aggei."

Another writer who has won some fame, especially by his charming sketches of Siberian life, written during his exile in Siberia, is Grigóry Alexándrovitch Matchtet, born in 1852. These sketches, such as "The Second Truth," "We Have Conquered," "A Worldly Affair," are both true to nature and artistic, and produce a deep impression.

Much more talented and famous is Vladímir Galaktiónovitch Korolénko (1853), also the author of fascinating Siberian sketches, and of a more ambitious work, "The Blind Musician." One point to be noted about Korolénko is that he never joined the pessimists, or the party which professed pseudo-peasant tendencies, and followed Count L. N. Tolstóy's ideas, but has always preserved his independence. His first work, a delightful fantasy, entitled "Makár's Dream," appeared in 1885. Korolénko has been sent to Siberia several times, but now lives in Russia proper,[48] and publishes a high-class monthly journal.

Until quite recently opinion was divided as to whether Korolénko or Tchékoff was the more talented, and the coming "great author." As we shall see presently, that question seems to have been settled, and in part by Korolénko's friendly aid, in favor of quite another person.

Antón Pávlovitch Tchékoff (pseudonym "Tchekhonte," 1860) is the descendant of a serf father and grandfather. His volumes of short stories, "Humorous Tales," "In the Gloaming," "Surly People," are full of humor and of brilliant wit. His more ambitious efforts, as to length and artistic qualities, the productions of his matured talent, are "The Steppe," "Fires," "A Tiresome History," "Notes of an Unknown," "The Peasant," and so forth.

Still another extremely talented writer, who, unfortunately, has begun to produce too rapidly for his own interest, is Ignáty Nikoláevitch Potápenko (1856), the son of an officer in a Uhlan regiment, and of a Little Russian peasant mother. His father afterwards became a priest--a very unusual change of vocation and class--and the future writer acquired intimate knowledge of views and customs in ecclesiastical circles, which he put to brilliant use later on. A delicate humor is the characteristic feature of his work, as can be seen in his best writings, such as "On Active Service"[49] and "The Secretary of His Grace (the Bishop)."

The former is the story of a talented and devoted young priest, who might have obtained an easy position in the town, among the bishop's officials, with certain prospect of swift promotion. He resolutely declines this position, and requests that he may be assigned to a village parish, where he can be "on active service." Every one regards the request as a sign of an unsettled mind. After much argument he prevails on his betrothed bride's parents to permit the marriage (he cannot be ordained until he is married), and hopes to find a helpmeet in her. The rest of the story deals with his experiences in the unenviable position of a village priest, where he has to contend not only with the displeasure of his young wife, but with the avarice of his church staff, the defects of the peasants, the excess of attention of the local gentlewoman, and financial problems of the most trying description. It ends in his wife abandoning him, and returning with her child to her father's house, while he insists on remaining at his post, where, as events have abundantly proved, the ministrations of a truly disinterested, devout priest are most sadly needed. It is impossible to convey by description the charm and gentle humor of this book.

But acclaimed on all sides, by all classes of society, as the most talented writer of the present day, is the young man who writes under the name of Maxím Górky (Bitter). The majority of the critics confidently predict that he is the long-expected successor of Count L. N. Tolstóy. This gifted man, who at one stroke, conquered for himself all Russia which reads, whose books sell with unprecedented rapidity, whose name passes from mouth to mouth of millions, wherever intellectual life glows, and has won an unnumbered host of enthusiastic admirers all over the world, came up from the depths of the populace.

"Górky" Alexéi Maxímovitch Pyeshkóff was born in Nízhni Nóvgorod in 1868 or 1869. Socially, he belongs to the petty burgher class, but his grandfather, on the paternal side, was reduced from an officer to the ranks, by the Emperor Nicholas I., for harsh treatment of the soldiers under his command. He was such a rough character that his son (the author's father) ran away from home five times in the course of seven years, and definitively parted from his uncongenial family at the age of seventeen, when he went afoot from Tobólsk to Nízhni Nóvgorod, where he apprenticed himself to a paper-hanger. Later on he became the office-manager of a steamer company in Ástrakhan. His mother was the daughter of a man who began his career as a bargee on the Volga, one of the lowest class of men who, before the advent of steam, hauled the merchandise-laden barks from Ástrakhan to Nízhni Nóvgorod, against the current. Afterwards he became a dyer of yarns, and eventually established a thriving dyeing establishment in Nízhni.

Górky's father died of cholera at Ástrakhan when the lad was four years old. His mother soon married again, and gave the boy to his grandfather, who had him taught to read and write, and then sent him to school, where he remained only five months. At the end of that time he caught smallpox, and his studies were never renewed. Meanwhile his mother died, and his grandfather was ruined financially, so Górky, at nine years of age, became the "boy" in a shoeshop, where he spent two months, scalded his hands with cabbage soup, and was sent back to his grandfather. His relations treated him with hostility or indifference, and on his recovery, apprenticed him to a draftsman, from whose harshness he promptly fled, and entered the shop of a painter of holy pictures. Next he became scullion on a river steamer, and the cook was the first to inculcate in him a love of reading and of good literature. Next he became gardener's boy; then tried to get an education at Kazán University, under the mistaken impression that education was free. To keep from starving he became assistant in a bakery at three rubles a month; "the hardest work I ever tried," he says; sawed wood, carried heavy burdens, peddled apples on the wharf, and tried to commit suicide out of sheer want and misery.[50] "Konováloff" and "Men with Pasts"[51] would seem to represent some of the experiences of this period, "Konováloff" being regarded as one of his best stories. Then he went to Tzarítzyn, where he obtained employment as watchman on a railway, was called back to Nízhni Nóvgorod for the conscription, but was not accepted as a soldier, such "holy" men not being wanted. He became a peddler of beer, then secretary to a lawyer, who exercised great influence on his education. But he felt out of place, and in 1890 went back to Tzarítzyn, then to the Don Province (of the Kazáks), to the Ukraína and Bessarábia, back along the southern shore of the Crimea to the Kubán, and thence to the Caucasus. The reader of his inimitable short stories can trace these peregrinations and the adventures incident to them. In Tiflís he worked in the railway shops, and in 1892 printed his first literary effort, "Makár Tchúdra," in a local newspaper, the "Kavkáz." In the following year, in Nízhni Nóvgorod, he made acquaintance with Korolénko, to whom he is indebted for getting into "great literature," and for sympathy and advice. When he published "Tchelkásh," in 1893, his fate was settled. It is regarded as one of the purest gems of Russian literature. He immediately rose to honor, and all his writings since that time have appeared in the leading publications. Moreover, he is the most "fashionable" writer in the country. But he enjoys something more than mere popularity; he is deeply loved. This is the result of the young artist's remarkable talent for painting absolutely living pictures of both persons and things. The many-sidedness of his genius--for he has more than talent--is shown, among other things, by the fact that he depicts with equal success landscapes, _genre_ scenes, portraits of women. His episode of the singers in "Fomá Gordyéeff" (pp. 217-227) is regarded by Russian critics as fully worthy of being compared with the scenes for which Turgéneff is renowned. His landscape pictures are so beautiful that they cause a throb of pain. But, as is almost inevitable under the circumstances, most of his stories have an element of coarseness, which sometimes repels.

In general, his subject is "the uneasy man," who is striving after absolute freedom, after light and a lofty ideal, of which he can perceive the existence somewhere, though with all his efforts he cannot grasp it. We may assume that in this they represent Górky himself. But although all his heroes are seeking the meaning of life, no two of them are alike. His characters, like his landscapes, grip the heart, and once known, leave an ineffaceable imprint. Although he propounds problems of life among various classes, he differs from the majority of people, in not regarding a full stomach as the panacea for the poor man. On the contrary (as in "Fomá Gordyéeff," his most ambitious effort), he seems to regard precisely this as the cause of more ruin than the life of "the barefoot brigade," the tramps and stepchildren of Dame Fortune, with whom he principally deals. His motto seems to be "Man shall not live by bread alone." And because Górky bears this thought ever with him, in brain and heart, in nerves and his very marrow, his work possesses a strength which is almost terrifying, combined with a beauty as terrifying in its way. If he will but develop his immense genius instead of meddling with social and political questions, and getting into prison on that score with disheartening regularity, something incalculably great may be the outcome. It is said that he is now banished in polite exile to the Crimea. If he can be kept there or elsewhere out of mischief, the Russian government will again render the literature of its own country and of the world as great a service as it has already more than once rendered in the past, by similar means.

In the '70's and '80's Russian society was seized with a mania for writing poetry, and a countless throng of young poets made their appearance. No book sold so rapidly as a volume of verses. But very few of these aspirants to fame possessed any originality or serious worth. Poetry had advanced not a single step since the days of Nekrásoff and Shevtchénko, so far as national independence was concerned.

The most talented of the young poets of this period was Semén Yákovlevitch Nádson (1862-1887). His grandfather, a Jew who had joined the Russian Church, lived in Kíeff. His father, a gifted man and a fine musician, died young. His mother, a Russian gentlewoman, died at the age of thirty-one, of consumption. At the age of sixteen, Nádson fell in love with a young girl, and began to write poetry. She died of quick consumption shortly afterwards. This grief affected the young man's whole career, and many of his poems were inspired by it. He began to publish his poems while still in school, being already threatened with pulmonary trouble, on account of which he had been sent to the Caucasus at the expense of the government, where he spent a year. In 1882 he graduated from the military school, and was appointed an officer in a regiment stationed at Kronstádt. There he lived for two years, and some of his best poems belong to this epoch: "No, Easier 'Tis for Me to Think that Thou Art Dead," "Herostrat," "Dreams," "The Brilliant Hall Has Silent Grown," "All Hath Come to Pass," and so forth. He retired from the military service in 1883, being already in the grasp of consumption. His poems ran through ten editions during the five years which followed his death, and still continue to sell with equal rapidity, so remarkable is their popularity. He was an ideally poetical figure; moreover, he charms by his flowing, musical verse, by the enthralling elegance and grace of his poetical imagery, and genuine lyric inspiration. All his poetry is filled with quiet, meditative sadness. It is by the music of his verse and the tender tears of his feminine lyrism that Nádson penetrates the hearts of his readers. His masterpiece is "My Friend, My Brother," and this reflects the sentiment of all his work.[52] Here is the first verse:

My friend, my brother, weary, suffering brother,
Whoever thou may'st be, let not thy spirit fail;
Let evil and injustice reign with sway supreme
O'er all the tear-washed earth.
Let the sacred ideal be shattered and dishonored;
Let innocent blood flow in stream--
Believe me, there cometh a time when Baal shall perish
And love shall return to earth.

Another very sincere, sympathetic, and genuine, though not great poet, also of Jewish race, is Semén Grigórievitch Frug (1860-1916), the son of a member of the Jewish agricultural colony in the government of Khersón. He, like Nádson, believes that good will triumph in the end, and is not in the least a pessimist.

Quite the reverse are Nikolái Maxímovitch Vilénkin (who is better known by his pseudonym of "Mínsky" from his native government), and Dmítry Sergyéevitch Merezhkóvsky (1865) who, as a poet, is generally bombastic. His novels are better.

There are many other good, though not great, contemporary writers in Russia, including several women. But they hardly come within the scope of this work (which does not aim at being encyclopedic), as neither their work nor their fame is likely to make its way to foreign readers who are unacquainted with the Russian language. For those who do read Russian there are several good handbooks of contemporary literature which will furnish all necessary information.

QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW

1. How was Russia influenced by the romantic movement in
western Europe?

2. Describe the character of the romances of the first period
of the fifties.

3. What important historical works appeared at this time?

4. What popular novels were written by Danilévsky?

5. What were the chief works of Mélnikoff, and why are they not
likely to be translated into English?

6. Describe the career and influence of Lyeskóff.

7. Why was the fame of Markóvitch's work short-lived?

8. What difficulties did Uspénsky encounter in his early
attempts at writing?

9. Describe the effect produced by his "Hard Labor" and "An
Eccentric Master."

10. What views of society did Zlatovrátsky express in his
writings?

11. Why did Ryeshétnikoff's "The Inhabitants of Podlípovo"
become widely popular?

12. Give an account of the experiences of Saltykóff.

13. How did he make use of the material gathered during his
exile?

14. How did his writings contribute some new words to the
Russian language?

15. What qualities does he show in "The Story of How One
Peasant Maintained Two Generals"?

16. Give the chief events in the life of Tolstóy.

17. What characteristics of style did he show in his earliest
writings?

18. How is he "subjective" in delineating his characters?

19. Why was his genius not at first appreciated?

20. What was his theory of life?

21. What change came into his life in the seventies?

22. How did this affect his writings?

23. How did his experience with famine sufferers affect his
views?

24. What were Gárshin's views of people in general?

25. How do his books bear out his theories?

26. What facts in Korolénko's life have influenced his literary
development?

27. What characteristics does Tchékoff show in his short
stories?

28. What is the story of Potápenko's "On Active Service"?

29. Give the leading events of Górky's career.

30. How is his many-sided genius shown?

31. What ideals are expressed in his work?

32. Why has Nádson's poetry such a firm hold on the popular
mind?

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Danilévsky: _Miróvitch._ _The Princess Tarakanova._

Potápenko: _A Russian Priest._ _A Father of Six._ _An
Occasional Holiday._

Maxím Górky: _Orlóff and His Wife._ _Fomá Gordyéeff._
(Translated by I. F. Hapgood.)

L. N. Tolstóy: All of his works are available in English
translations. There are several collections of his short
stories.

_The Humor of Russia._ (Selections.) E. L. Voynich.

D. S. Merezhkóvsky: _The Death of the Gods._ This is the first
part of a trilogy, and is an historical novel of the time of
Julian the Apostate. The other parts (announced for
publication) are: _Resurrection_ (time of Leonardo da Vinci)
and _The Anti-Christ_ (time of Peter the Great.)

FOOTNOTES:

[33] The "Old Ritualists" or _raskólniki_, are those who do not accept the corrections to the Church books, and so forth, made in seventeenth century, by the Patriarch Níkon.

[34] Count L. N. Tolstóy presented me with a copy of one of these legends--a most distressing and improbable affair--with the remark, "Lyeskóff has spoiled himself by imitating me." He meant that Lyeskóff was imitating his little moral tales and legends, to which he had been devoting himself for some time past. I agreed with Tolstóy, as to the effect.

[35] Although she was very ill and weak, she was good enough to ask me to visit her, a few months before she died, in 1889.

[36] Count L. N. Tolstóy told me that Uspénsky had never been sufficiently appreciated. He also praised Zlatovrátsky highly.

[37] Former crown serfs repeatedly told me how free they had been--how much better off than those of private persons.

[38] Naturally, it is this feature of his writings which made Count Tolstóy laud him so highly to me.

[39] Or, "The Golovléffs," the above being the more formal translation. Saltykóff was too ill to receive strangers when I was in Russia. But I attended a requiem service over his body, at his home; another at the Kazán Cathedral, where all the literary lights assembled; and went to his funeral in the outlying cemetery, thereby having the good fortune to behold one of the famous "demonstrations" in which the Russian public indulges on such occasions.

[40] This refers to the Table of Ranks, established by Peter the Great. The fourth class of officials from the top of the ladder, have attained a very respectable amount of embroidery, dignity, and social position.

[41] About two cents and a half.

[42] I have seen the number variously stated at from eleven to thirteen; but Countess Sophía Andréevna, his wife, told me there had been fifteen, and I regard her as the final authority on this point, a very interesting one, in view of some of his latter-day theories and exhortations. Countess Tolstóy was the daughter of Dr. Behrs, of Moscow.

[43] Turgéneff, who afterwards called Tolstóy "The Great Writer of the Russian Land," pronounced emphatically against him at this time; and so did many others, who became his enthusiastic admirers.

[44] At this period, also, the peasant costume became the fashion in the higher circles. Count Tolstóy is generally (out of Russia) assumed to be the first and only wearer of such garments.

[45] This is a particularly interesting example to the people of America and to me. I sent to Count Tolstóy over seven thousand dollars which people throughout the length and breadth of the land had forwarded to me for that purpose, and I turned thousands more in his direction. His conscience is as uneasy and as fitful and illogical in pretty nearly all other matters, which is a pity, because it is both lively and sincere, though mistaken.

[46] It was to this sort of story that Count Tolstóy referred, when he told me that Lyeskóff had spoiled his talent of recent years by imitating him, Tolstóy.

[47] I have stated my own theory as to Count Tolstóy's incessant changes of view, and his puzzling inconsistencies, in my "Russian Rambles." It is not necessary or fitting that I should repeat it here.

[48] I tried to see him in Nízhni Nóvgorod, but although he was still under police surveillance, the police could not tell me where to find him, and I obtained the information from a photographer friend of his. Unfortunately, he was then in the Crimea, gathering "material."

[49] Translated into English under the title "A Russian Priest." Another volume contains two charming stories from the same circle, "A Father of Six" and "An Occasional Holiday."

[50] He must have been at Kazán about the time I was there; and I have often wondered if I saw him on the wharf, where I passed weary hours waiting for the steamer.

[51] See "Orlóff and His Wife," in my translation, 1891.

[52] I do not attempt a metrical translation. Lines 1-3, 2-4, 5-7, 6-8, rhyme in pairs.

INDEX

Adásheff, 54, 56.

Aksákoff, 141, 164.

Alexander I., 91, 101, 102, 105.

Archángel, 72.

Ástrakhan, 70, 227, 269.

Baratýnsky, 123.

Bárynya Sudárynya, 34.

Bátiushkoff, 106, 108.

Bogdanóvitch, 96, 97.

Book of Degrees, 61.

Book of Hours, 53, 59.

Briulóff, 206.

Búnin, 107.

Byelínsky, 139, 141, 143, 161, 165, 204, 213, 215.

Caucasus, 251, 252, 270, 272.

Danilévsky, 230.

Dáshkoff, 82.

Decembrists, 201, 215.

Délvig, 123.

Derzhávin, 82, 90, 96, 100, 114.

Dmítrieff, 92, 98, 105, 142.

Dmítry, St. of Rostóff, 63, 64.

Dmítry Donskóy (dmee-tree), 48.

Dniépr (Neepr), 2, 41, 147, 159.

Dolgorúky, 57.

Domostróy, 51.

Dostoévsky, 140, 161, 209, 212, 225, 254.

Drevlyáns, 41.

Dúroff, 214, 215.

Elizabeth, 68, 75, 76, 114, 230.

Féodor (fáy-o-dor), 47, 59.

Feódorovna, 108, 110, 206.

Feodósiy, 40.

Frug, 274.

Galítzyn, 69.

Gárshin, 265.

Glazátly, 56.

Gógol, 140, 141, 146-159, 161, 165, 167, 181, 189, 213, 215.

Gontcharóff, 140, 161-63, 220, 223, 250.

Górky, 268-272.

Gregory, 63.

Griboyédoff, 124, 128, 181.

Grigoróvitch, 140, 161, 163-64, 213.

House Regulator, 51.

Ígor (egor), 41.

Ígor's Raid, 44.

Ilarión, 39.

Ioánnovña, Anna, 69, 72, 75, 114.

Irkútsk, 199.

Iván (e-vahñ) the Terrible, 51.

Kamarýnskaya, 34.

Kantemír, 68, 69, 84.

Kápnist, 96.

Karamzín (ka-ram-zeen), 92, 98, 102, 106, 109, 111, 115, 124, 229.

Katherine II., 70, 77, 80, 82, 84, 85, 90, 91, 96, 100, 102, 114.

Kazán, 33, 52, 56, 97, 141, 251, 269.

Khémnitzer, 96-100.

Kheraskóff, 96, 97, 164.

Khersón, 158, 274.

Khomyakóff, 164.

Khvóshtchinsky, 234.

Kíeff (keef), 1, 2, 7, 29, 36, 39, 41, 47, 56, 61, 63, 67, 204, 207.

Koltzóff, 142-145, 194, 204.

Korolénko, 266.

Kostomároff, 230.

Kotoshíkin, 57.

Kozmá, Epistle to, 54.

Krizhánitz, 58.

Kronstádt, 273.

Krylóff (kree-lof), 98, 109, 112, 124, 189.

Kúrbsky, 53, 55.

Kúrotchkin, 210.

Kyríll, 3.

Kyríll of Nóvgorod, 40.

Lérmontoff, 116, 128, 138, 140, 150, 192.

Lomonósoff, 57, 69, 72-5, 97, 113, 128, 139, 140.

Lyeskóff, 231.

Máikoff, 140, 193.

Makáry, 48.

Markóvitch, 233.

Márlinsky, 146.

Matchtet, 266.

Maxím, the Greek, 50.

Mélnikoff, 230.

Merezhkóvsky, 274.

Methódy, 3.

Mikháilovitch, 57, 59, 61, 62.

Mináeff, 210.

Mínsky, 274.

Moghíla (mo-ghe-la), 56, 61, 63.

Moscow, 47, 48, 53, 55, 57, 61, 62, 63, 67, 69, 72, 76, 84, 102,
139, 143, 164, 167, 182, 186, 193, 210, 212, 215, 251.

Most Holy Governing Synod, 59, 68.

Mystery Plays, 63.

Nádson, 272-73.

Nekrásoff, 140, 161, 195-204, 209, 202.

Nertchínsk, 200, 201.

Nestor, 8, 40, 41.

Nicholas I., 108, 206.

Nikifór, 40.

Nikítin, 209.

Níkon, 58, 61.

Nízhni Nóvgorod, 269.

Nóvgorod, 2, 6, 7, 29, 62, 67.

Októikh, 52.

Olga, 41.

Olónetz, 31, 36, 91.

Orél (aryól), 164.

Orenburg, 207, 209.

Osten-Saken, 251.

Ostromír, 6.

Ostróvsky, 12, 161, 182-191.

Ostrózhsky, 53.

Ózeroff, 105.

Panáeff, 140, 196.

Patriarch, 58, 59, 62.

Paul I., 91, 101.

Peter the Great, 57, 58, 59, 66, 67, 70, 75, 113.

Petrashévsky, 209, 214, 215, 239.

Písemsky, 191.

Pleshtchéeff, 209, 210, 215.

Polónsky, 194.

Polótzky, 57, 59, 61, 63.

Poltáva, 147.

Posóshkoff, 67.

Potápenko, 267.

Preobrazhénsky, 91.

Prokópovitch, 68, 69, 75, 85.

Púshkin, 44, 92, 106, 109, 113-124, 126, 128, 139, 142, 143, 146,
165, 188, 189, 214, 229, 238.

Rázin Sténka, 33.

Róstislaff, 3.

Rúrik, 2, 61.

Russian News, 66.

Rýbnikoff, 31.

Ryeshétnikoff, 237.

Sadkó, 31.

St. Petersburg, 67, 73, 76, 80, 84, 126, 129, 140, 143, 164, 167,
186, 195, 205, 207, 210, 212, 255.

Saltykóff, 238.

Schelling, 138-39.

Shénshin, 193.

Shevtchénko, 204-9, 233.

Simbírsk, 161.

Slavyanophils, 139.

Smotrítzky, 57.

Soloviéff, 230, 263.

Sorótchinsky, 147.

Sóshenko, 205.

Spyéshneff, 215.

Stépennaya Kníga, 61.

Stogláva, 50.

Sumarókoff, 75-8, 97, 181.

Sylvester, 51, 54.

Tambóff, 91.

Tarakánoff, Princess, 230.

Tashkéntzians, 241.

Tatár, 10, 33, 36, 47, 48.

Tatíshtcheff, 68, 70.

Taúris, 158.

Tchasoslóff, 53.

Tchékoff, 266.

Tchernígoff, 67.

Tchernyshévsky, 226.

Tchetyá Mináya, 49.

Theatres, 63.

Tiflís, 126.

Tiútcheff, 194.

Tobólsk, 215.

Tolstóy, A. K., 191-3.

Tolstóy, L. N., 140, 141, 150, 161, 188, 218, 233, 250-65.

Trediakóvsky, 68, 71.

Tzárskoe Seló, 92, 114, 238.

Turgéneff, 140, 161, 164-80, 190, 220, 223, 250, 254.

Tver, 217.

Ufá, 141.

Ukraína, 156, 208, 270.

Uspénsky, 234, 236.

Vasílievitch, 51.

Vasíly, 47, 51.

Vilna, 205.

Vladímir, 1, 7, 29, 30, 39, 97.

Vladímir, Monomáchus, 43.

Voevóda, 56, 57.

Volhýnia, 53.

Vólkhoff, 76.

Von Vízin, 82, 90, 150, 181.

Vorónezh, 142, 143.

Vyátka, 239.

Yároslaff, 39.

Yaroslávl, 76.

Yavórsky, 68.

Yázykoff, 123, 124.

Yásnaya Polyána, 250-52.

Zagóskin, 146, 229.

Zaporózhian, 147.

Zhemtchúzhnikoff, 210.

Zhidyáta, Luká, 39.

Zhukóvsky, 106, 108, 115, 124, 143, 150, 192, 206, 208.

Zizánie-Tustanóvsky, 57.

Zlatovrátsky, 234, 236.

* * * * *

Transcriber's List of Corrections:

Page 45, "Pólovtzi" changed to "Pólovtzy." (... while the
Pólovtzy are called "accursed," in contrast with the orthodox
Russians.)

Page 53, "Ostrózhky" changed to "Ostrózhsky." (... the famous
Ostrózhsky Bible ...)

Page 65, "Góre-Zlostchástye" changed to "Góre-Zloshtchástye."
(... "The Tale of Góre-Zloshtchástye; How Góre-Zloshtchástye
Brought the Young Man to the Monastic State," ...)

Page 77, "Hóreff" changed to "Khóreff." (... in addition to
"Khóreff" and "Hamlet," "Dmítry the Pretender," and
"Mstíslaff.")

Page 95, "fiy" changed to "fly." (Naught! But I live, and on
hope's pinions fly)

Page 107, "seige" changed to "siege." (The peasants took him at
his word, and brought two young Turkish girls, who had been
captured at the siege of Bender.)

Page 137, "Lifeguardsmen" changed to "Lifeguardsman." (Then the
redoubtable Lifeguardsman Kiribyéevitch steps forth.)

Page 140, "constitute" changed to "constitutes." (His volume of
articles on Púshkin constitutes a complete critical history of
Russian literature ...)

Page 164, "Sergyévitch" changed to "Sergyéevitch." (Among the
writers who followed Grigoróvitch in his studies of peasant
life, was Iván Sergyéevitch Turgéneff ...)

Page 177, "benind" changed to "behind." (... he held the thief
beneath him, and was engaged in tying the man's hands behind his
back with his girdle.)

Page 221, "psycopathologist" changed to "psychopathologist."
(This doctor demonstrates that Dostoévsky was a great
psychopathologist ...)

Page 230, "Serébryani" changed to "Serébryany." (... "War and
Peace" and "Prince Serébryany," stand quite apart, and far above
all others.)

Page 233, "Alexándrevna" changed to "Alexándrovna." (Among these
was a well-known woman writer, Márya Alexándrovna Markóvitch
...)

Page 234, "Nilkolái" changed to "Nikolái." (... two men headed
the movement, Glyeb Ivánovitch Uspénsky and Nikolái Nikoláevitch
Zlatovrátsky.)

Page 246, "Viátka" changed to "Vyátka." (A correspondent writes
to us from Vyátka ...)

Page 274, "1866" changed to "1916." (... Semén Grigórievitch
Frug (1860-1916) ...)

Page 274, "Sergiéevitch" changed to "Sergyéevitch." (... Dmítry
Sergyéevitch Merezhkóvsky ...)

Page 278, "Pleshtchéef" changed to "Pleshtchéeff."