Sir,—When sо many conclusions, one more absurd than the other, are made about Russia it is no crime, I think, to recall a little page of Russian history and facts, which are certainly very characteristic. How is it that even in the eighteenth century, at a time when culture was still very unadvanced in Russia, we had names like Bagration, Roumianzoff, Koutouzoff, Souvoroff, and many, others, who covered with glory not only themselves, but the whole of Russia? What guided these men, and what made them powerful? To settle that dilemma, you should remember that the above-mentioned names represented a generation of men, whose souls were well trained. Russian characters of that time were formed in the old religious, moral and patriotic atmosphere of family life. Parents and teachers understood what is the foundation of a great, national and religious Russia, which was at that time, and in our century, even generally called “Holy Russia,” with a sense of loyalty, honour and patriotism. “L’hypocrisie est un hommage rendu à la vertu”—and Germany seemed, at all events, to render that homage and to share these views, in teaching her children categorical principles, and based on moral order and patriotic ideals.

It is not for me to judge now the sincerity and depth of that teaching, but in 1871, when France was defeated, one often heard the remark that it was the German professors and teachers who won the war. As one of their successes there certainly was a profound general knowledge of foreign lands and their peculiarities. As far as my country is concerned, the Russian language, for instance, was taught in many schools, good Russian books were translated into German, a fact which I deploringly admit—is not much observed in England. And nowadays how useful and important real knowledge of Russia would be to England at this very moment! It would not be necessary to assure our great allies that there is a tremendous difference between real Russia, real “Holy” Russia, and the present diabolical combination, whose object is to uproot every religion, every morality, every sense of honour, every craving for high culture, beginning with churches and religious schools in every Christian country. There is a rescript, addressed by the Emperor Nicholas II. to his Prime Minister, the contents of which are worth knowing, but I am not aware whether even these important statements have been translated, if only partially, in England. Here are a few characteristic passages, which, I hope, may interest your readers:—

“What I require from you,” said His Majesty, addressing his Empire, “is your constant attention to the maintenance of Russia’s best traditions and ideals. Her shield must never, under any conditions, be tarnished by consideration of personal interests. The welfare of my people must never be sacrificed to needless striving after conditions that are at variance with those grand and splendid national principles which have made Russia great and strong.” The same rescript further insists on an unswerving respect for law, and conscientious sense of responsibility on the part of all high authorities, in maintaining order, and in subordinating all personal opinion to the laws of the country. Compare these views to those of the present thieves and murderers, who have captured Russia by tortures, forgeries, and lies. Every morality, according to these wretches, ought to be abolished. Children torn away from their parents and demoralized to the most infamous degree, every moral principle in schools outraged, hundreds of clergymen killed, property, truth and patriotism abolished—that is their doctrine.

The Emperor’s appeal was particularly well-timed in Russia, when signs of red-tapeism began, to make themselves too evident. There was, for instance, a question that lasted for thirty years, and without the Imperial interference would probably have been discussed till now. This, as related by one of our journalists, is even amusing, and worth quoting. The rebus, he tells us, was “Armawir.” Has it to be described officially as a village or a town? Numerous voices were heard in the affirmative, and no fewer voices in the negative, and these voices might be continued, perhaps, even now. A good remark was once made about Count Leo Tolstoy’s play, called The Power of Darkness. Somebody observed that what is as bad is “the Darkness of Power.” You naturally feel this darkness, when the same question is discussed by commissions on commissions, subdivided into more committees and endless discussions—one longs for energetic decision. It seems to me that even a mistaken solution is sometimes less dangerous than no solution at all. And the Emperor’s interference was, therefore, often particularly precious and necessary in Russia. Your great Canning was right, when he said, “Not institutions, but men.” Of course, every institution can be mismanaged, and, in order to come to great results, what is most necessary is great characters, great everlasting principles—in one word: great men are needed mindful of great religious and patriotic principles.—I am, Sir, &c., OLGA NOVIKOFF.