Madame Novikoff writes me as follows:—

Claridge’s Hotel, December 31st.

Many people here express their surprise at our Government positively declining any official help from other counties. “What right have they to refuse bread to people threatened with starvation? Pride, dignity, independence, have no right to be exhibited on occasions of such pressing need and calamity,” is often observed to me. Perhaps I may be allowed to say a word on this subject from a Russian point of view: We not only share our Government’s views upon the matter, but are thankful that it realises so thoroughly the feelings of our country at large. In international intercourse, the predominant principle is that of give and take. Anybody who cares to study history may get easily convinced that Russia has always been particularly anxious to remember every kind turn done to her. She could never “startle the world with her ingratitude” On the contrary, she not only invariably returned the capital of gratitude, but willingly added a large percentage for every loan; unaided, she remains quite free from any obligation. To become a friend and ally of Russia means to strengthen one’s own position, and to guarantee one’s future. Ingratitude implies a meanness of character, incompatible with our moral standard. Those who understand thoroughly what gratitude means, are naturally hesitating in accepting help.

But private charity has quite a different meaning. Separate individuals, sympathising with our misfortune and sharing with us whatever they can, are doing a Christian work for which every Russian is heartily obliged. Private committees are founded all over Russia. The central St. Petersburg Committee is presided over by our Heir Apparent, and the Moscow Committee by our Emperor’s sister-in-law—the greatly-beloved Grand Duchess Serge.

Thus anybody who wants to help, not with some concealed political object, but simply as a Christian, in God’s name, can offer his help, and be assured that his offering will be received in many quarters with heartfelt gratitude.

No country in the world has been more famous for voluntary contributions than England, and that feature of English life no doubt commands universal respect and admiration.

But in judging our positions, the English press seems to be doubtful of the urgent necessity to take pity on our famine sufferers.

Isolated voices also in Russia have expressed curious doubts to the same effect. I therefore venture to translate a letter which my son, Alexander Novikoff, a Zemztvo chief (a Zemskoy Natchalnik) in the Government of Tamboff, has just addressed to the Moscow Gazette, which contains good information and shows how to render gratuitous help most beneficent. These are his very words:—

“I am often asked: ‘Why should we help?—Is our money not going to be used in drink, and if not actually in drink, at all events on people who used to squander their property in public-houses?’ The demoralising influence of gratuitous help is pointed out even oftener. And it seems strange, no doubt, why anybody should work who feels sure that his daily bread will not fail to come. . . . The other day, a person, who desired to remain unknown, offered me a thousand of roubles (£100) for the benefit of one of the most needy villages, provided that that sum should not be given gratuitously but only as a loan which, when paid back, should be again spent on that same village, but in the shape of a school.

“In places where these already exist there are other ways of using the money only lent, not given, to those who need it. A reserve capital, for instance, might be formed, or at least a compendium of a reserve capital, in every village.

“Even those who possess no land of their own, but only live in the country, should be compelled to return the money for the benefit of the village in which they are dwelling. In this way the millions of roubles, far from being sacrificed in vain, achieve two objects: they will feed the starvelings now, and later on they will contribute either to the moral or the material development of our rural population.

“I was told that my requisition to get back the money might, perhaps, wound the feelings of the donor, who does not care to be repaid. This I cannot admit. In fact, I am even certain that if we say to any benefactor that his money represents to-day food, but when the calamity is over, instead of being invested in drink, it will be spent on schools, he will not only be glad to hear it, but will, perhaps, even increase his donation.

“‘The peasants may refuse help, granted only on condition of repayment.’ This also is quite out of the question. Nothing is easier than to make them realise the necessity of accepting the obligation, which can only contribute to their own welfare.

“Others remark:—‘What use is there in giving, when help is so insignificant that a whole village, for instance, only gets ten roubles?’ I again insist upon saying that even a small help is better than nothing; besides, the principle of charity ought to be maintained.

“To sum up the above, I say that all the offerings should be lent to the village commune, not given; and, later on, employed for the benefit of the village. This will have two good results:—(1) The reproach, ‘That charity only breeds idleness,’ will have no foundation; (2) the money returned, even partly, will be used for the good of the people, not on drink; and (3) the donations will thus, probably, only increase.”

For my part, I can only express my gratitude for every farthing given on behalf of our famine sufferers, and assure my helpers that every penny will actually first be turned into a loaf of bread; and, later on—when instead of our present ordeal God will favour us with a plentiful harvest—into something to feed the mind and the soul of our grateful peasants.   

OLGA N.