I wonder whether that excellent book of M. Anatole Leroy-Beaulieu, L’Empire des Tzars et les Russes, is much known in England? The first part, which appeared some time ago, is very interesting, very accurate, very impartial, even too impartial according to my impression. For, after all, it is very well for the half sleepy gods, sitting on their Olympus, to view all from their heights; but simple mortals are in a different position; they ought to feel and be carried away—if only sometimes—by their political sympathies. 

Now M. Leroy-Beaulieu, though a Frenchman, is as impartial as the very ideal of an Englishman, and all the facts he points out are generally trustworthy and exact. He describes, for instance, the process of colonisation in Russia, and justly characterises it as a very striking feature in our history. ‘Russia,’ says he, ‘is a colony, and, to say the truth, she has never been anything else. The whole of her history is nothing but the history of her colonisation.’ Yes, that is true. There is a New Russia, as modern as New England, and its development resembles in many points the development of the United States. ‘That immense and rapid colonisation, by which the Russian peasant has almost doubled the area of Europe at the expense of Asia,’ abounds with many parallels to that of America, many of which are mentioned by M. Leroy-Beaulieu. 

But there is one point of resemblance between Russia and America to which he does not allude; that is, the part played in both countries by the impulse of religious fervour. 

There have been many episodes in our history which recall the daring enterprise of your gallant ‘Mayflower,’ that little ship, compared with which Mr. Carlyle was wont to say, in his rough, vivid, unconventional way; even the ‘Argo’ was but a ‘foolish bumbarge.’ They settled the new world; and with their sailing to seek a place where they might pray in their own fashion, American history begins. 

It is by no means so generally known that the history of many parts of Russia begins in the same way. I do not refer to the Mennonites, Bulgarians, Greeks, and especially Serbs, who have studded Southern Russia with colonies in order to preserve their faith. The Serbs have been particularly useful to Russia: to them we owe several remarkable generals; for instance, Miloradovitch among others, who, brave as a lion, covered himself with glory at Austerlitz, and held different important commands. 

These colonies were most flourishing in the time of Catherine the Great. Nowadays they are unrecognisable, being too closely united with us. 

Unlike America, which has been colonised from other countries, the Slav has been the great coloniser of Russia. One determining motive which has prompted his advance into the wilderness has been the desire for liberty of conscience, liberty of worship. 

In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, during the Polish domination, the Orthodox faith was seriously endangered by the Roman Catholic propaganda. 

Altogether the Poles have been more hostile to us than the Tartars. The latter simply robbed and killed; the former attacked all that we thought most sacred. In the time of Chmélnitsky, for instance, they gave our churches in lease to the Jews. 

To escape from proselytism and persecution, some Russians fled from the central parts of Russia, and founded colonies. But the greatest part of our countrymen, and in that also resembling English Puritans, preferred remaining at home and defending in their monastic fortresses their faith and their fatherland against the encroachments of Rome. 

Orthodoxy and Russian patriotism have ever been closely united in our history. Devotion to our Church has contributed largely to the development of our national greatness. This is one of the important facts that so few people understand. 

But—and this brings me to my subject—some historians, who, alas! sometimes desert the goddess of Truth for the easy worship of her rival, and make up in sarcasm what they lack in accuracy, say that some of these early migrations to the uninhabited steppes were by no means solely due to the impulse which drove the ‘Mayflower’ across the sea. They assert that they sought in their new homes not only freedom of conscience, but also freedom of drinking. ‘Settlements,’ they say, ‘were formed by our Dissenters who wished to escape alive from the Orthodox priests and the duty on brandy.’ 

This last explanation is so preposterous, that I should not have dreamed even of referring to it, if it had not been so obstinately and persistently repeated by hostile writers. 

But, after all, as the United States owe their independence to a revolt against a tax on tea, it is not impossible that some districts may have been colonised by men who wished to avoid paying taxes. One thing is certain, that in the newly-settled districts, Pugatscheff, in Catherine the Second’s time, succeeded in increasing immensely the popularity of his revolt by promising his followers abolition of all taxes on strong drinks. With Pugatscheff’s defeat that hope died away, and the tendency of the new reign is certainly not to realise that insurgent’s ideal.  

‘From the people of Russia,’ said the Daily News the other day, with its customary good feeling and accuracy, ‘by difference of race, habit, and mode of life, we are entirely divided, and we might be called antipathetic.’ Nevertheless, with all deference to this doctrine of antipathy, there are many resemblances between the Russian and the English character. Among others, there is, I regret to say, in the lower classes of both countries a weakness for intoxicating drinks. Yet, although this may be described as our master passion and ‘besetting sin,’ one of the first acts of the new reign has been to make a vigorous attempt to grapple with the evil before which even the English Parliament stands paralysed. 

Here, before proceeding to give an account of the great temperance movement which is absorbing so much attention in Russia at the present moment, let me protest against the common error that my countrymen are the most intemperate nation in Europe. All northern nations are inclined to drink. M. Leroy-Beaulieu refers to this in a striking passage. ‘It has long since been remarked,’ he observes, ‘that the higher the latitude, the greater the drunkenness. It is the fault of the climate rather than the vice of the man.’ In Russia, he thinks, to this evil influence of climate must be added the meagreness of our diet and the severity of our fasts. ‘The mass of the people,’ he says, ‘have for ages been condemned to a diet almost entirely vegetable. Under a northern sky they have lived as a southern race. The use of meat, bacon, and salted pork has only recently been introduced, and the majority of the peasants never taste flesh, except on feast days. They live upon rye bread, oatmeal, cabbage soup, called tshi, sometimes made with dried mushrooms, and salted or frozen fish.’ The exigencies of the climate are imperious, and drink has to supply the lack of food. Russians drink much less than the Swedes; but whilst the latter take brandy at large intervals and in small quantities, Russians consume it at once and in large quantity. Nevertheless, although we have so much frost and so little food, we do not drink anything like so much as the English. As this is better proved by statistics than by general observations, I hope I may be pardoned copying out some figures which I find in the Journal de St.-Petersbourg. 

There are nearly 90,000,000 Russians, and only 32,000,000 Britons. In alcohol, as in questions of annexation, the greatest sinner, after all, perhaps is not the Russian: England annexes more than Russia, though she never ceases complaining of our insatiable earth-hunger; and the same method is applied in judging the drink-question. The following figures I give on the responsibility of the Journal de St.-Petersbourg, for I do not in the least profess to be an authority upon the matter. I reproduce facts mentioned by the Russian press. The annual consumption per head in litres in the three chief countries of Europe is as follows:—  

	Alcohol	Beer
Russia	10	27, 1/10
Germany	3, 4/5	88
England	5, 1/2	143

These figures hardly justify the complacency with which England is given to reproach Russians with intemperance—though of course I admit Russians take much, very much more spirit than is to be desired or recommended. Another reproach which I would like to rebut, in order to clear the ground for my narrative, relates to the revenue derived from the sale of drink. Russia derives 227,000,000 roubles a year from the duty on spirits. This represents about 23,000,000l., and it is undoubtedly a large sum. But, after all, it is not so large as the sum England draws from the same source. I knew nothing about these things, I confess, till my present visit, when I learned that you draw no less than 29,000,000l. from the sale of drink! That was astonishing; but less so, when one remembers that you prevent a deficit in India only by poisoning the Chinese with opium; and, of course, it is better to tax alcohol than to allow its sale at the cost of making it. 

The duty on spirits in Russia was fixed last year at eight copecks per degree. The duty has nearly been doubled since 1863, when it was four roubles per vedro; and the effect of raising it until it was seven roubles a vedro was that in 1879, notwithstanding the increase in population, the consumption had fallen off nearly seven per cent.¹ However, I have certainly not commenced my parallel in order to excuse the existing state of things in Russia. Anything but that. In fact, I should not even like this comparison to be published in Russia, as it might, perhaps, cool a little the zeal of those who are now endeavouring(spelling)* to uproot the bad, intemperate habits of the country. A dolce far niente is always so pleasant, and to declare that everything is admirable in the best of worlds is such a charming little song. That, however, is not our belief, and we have to work hard and honestly, especially as our present Government is united heart and soul with the country in its best attempts to raise the level of public morality. 

Let me continue the parallel; it shows better how matters stand between the two countries. 

I am told the average income spent by the thirty-two millions of people in Great Britain averages 136,000,000l. per annum for the last ten years. In Russia we estimate our drink bill at a demi-milliard of roubles; that is to say, about 50,000,000l. When manufactured from corn, rye, maize, or potatoes, its first cost is only 5,000,000l., 23,000,000l. is levied as duty, and the remainder represents the profit of its makers and sellers. I see that the English consul at Odessa reckons that each of our peasants spends 8l. to 10l. a year in strong drink. But he is decidedly wrong in his calculations. Even the English average is only 4l. That of Russians is not much more than 10s. each for the whole population. If we exclude Mahomedans and some of our Old Believers who are teetotallers, the average will be larger, but still not equal to the English rate. 

Temperance movements have before now existed in Russia. Sometimes the popular indignation against intemperance took the very unceremonious shape of the violent destruction of the village dram shops by an angry mob. More reasonable methods were employed by the clergy. M. Rambaud, in his History of Russia, gives an extract from one of the sermons by which the bishops of the Orthodox Church in the sixteenth century attempted to check the spread of intemperance. As one of the earliest of Russian temperance speeches it may not be without interest at the present time:— 

My brothers, what is worse than drunkenness? You lose memory and reason like a madman, who knows not what he does. Is this mirth, my friends, mirth according to the law and glory of God? The drunkard is senseless. He lies like a corpse. If you speak to him, he does not answer. Think of his poor soul, which grows foul in its vile body, which is its prison. Drunkenness sends our guardian angels away, and makes the devils merry. To be drunk is to perform sacrifices to Satan. The devil rejoices and says, ‘No, the sacrifices of the pagans never caused me half so much joy as the intoxication of a Christian.’ Fly, then, my brothers, the curse of drunkenness. To drink is lawful, and is to the glory of God, who has given us wine to make us rejoice. The Fathers were far from forbidding wine, but we must never drink ourselves drunk. 

These efforts of the clergy were sometimes cruelly misconceived by the authorities, who often made the great mistake of identifying the welfare of Russia with the free sale of drink. In the year 1767 the famous Bishop Tichon of Zadonsk (government of Voronège) put himself at the head of the anti-drinking crusade, but his noble zeal was misinterpreted. He was accused of preaching temperance in order to deprive the Government of its revenue, and obliged to give up his bishopric and ‘enjoy rest,’ to the great sorrow of his flock. 

In the eighteenth as in the nineteenth century, ignorant, unpatriotic, demoralised officials checked these noble efforts of temperance reformers. One is embarrassed and ashamed to confess facts of that kind; but they are true, and ought not to be concealed. Blame those who deserve blame. Praise has only value when it comes from people capable of discerning good from evil; and we can the more admire the reforming zeal of the present reign when one contrasts it with the mistaken support given in the past to the demoralising trade. Nevertheless, even under the late Emperor, the number of drink-shops in all Russia was very much diminished.²

After the death of the late Emperor the movement against drunkenness suddenly reappeared even stronger than before. In the outburst of sorrow caused by that ‘Parricide’ (as it was sometimes called by the lower classes), many village communes determined, as a sign of their grief, to close the drinking-shops. In three places in the government of Pskoff a resolution to this effect was signed by 227 heads of families, and it was decided to close compulsorily all the public-houses, which had been taking 50,000 roubles a year from the population. In the government of Pensa, where the governor has energetically striven to close these shops, the villagers declared in favour of abolishing them for ever. Three villages in the government of Vilna, moved chiefly by religious motives, did the same thing. General sympathy greeted that movement, for, as a rule, the smaller the number of drinking-shops the greater is the prosperity of the place. According to an interesting monograph of MM. Bektieff and Khvostoff on the economical position of Yeletz in the Ural, an examination of nineteen communes showed that, as a rule, the number of ruined homes corresponded to the number of public-houses in a commune. They mentioned two places as examples. The village of Jarnovo possessed 203 homesteads and three public-houses. The soil was good; the holdings of each peasant averaged 4½ desiatines per head. They paid two roubles per desiatina. After the public-houses had been open for some time, 13 per cent of these peasants were entirely ruined, 25 others had no horse, and 53 had not even a cow. As the possession of at least one horse and one cow is the minimum of prosperity, 78, or 38 per cent., of the peasants of Jarnovo had not even attained that minimum. Contrasted with this sad spectacle of poverty was the state of the smaller village of Petrovskoye, which fortunately was without any public-houses. Of its 55 homesteads only one was entirely ruined, and only 4 were without a cow. Yet the peasants only owned 2 desiatines of land, and paid for it 3 roubles 73 copecks. Thus, although they had to pay more per desiatina, and only owned half the quantity of land held by those of Jarnovo, only 7 per cent are below the minimum of prosperity, as against 38 per cent in Jarnovo. 

The same contrast, MM. Bektieff and Khvostoff report, is to be found in all the other villages they examined. The wine-shops (kabaki) are now regarded as the village cancers, and some of my friends in Russia would be enthusiastic supporters of the United Kingdom Alliance. Mr. Katkoff’s Moscow Gazette publishes almost daily long columns in favour of very drastic measures against too great facilities for the sale of wine. Mr. Aksakoff’s Russ is just as emphatic upon the subject. But it is only natural for such enlightened and cultivated patriots as those two to take such a course. Let me mention two others who, although they have risen from the lower classes, may nevertheless play an energetic part in the direction of this question. I mean Mr. Tichomiroff and his uncle, Mr. Labsine. At present they are at the head of their large manufactory at Bogorodsk, near Moscow. They employ a great number of workmen, but they will never engage a single man who is not a total abstainer. Extra tea is willingly provided, and wages are rather higher than usual, but still the results economically and morally are most excellent. Both Tichomiroff and Labsine are men of very deep religious feeling, devoted to their country, genuine enthusiasts. The former has taken an active part in the Commission of Experts, and his speech impressed his audience with his simple and fervid eloquence. His invectives against the drink-shops were exceedingly vigorous, and really make him a very valuable ally in the temperance information. 

This movement, like all good movements in Russia, was warmly supported by the National Moscow party, and, equally as a matter of course, it met with either active opposition or lukewarm support from the St. Petersburg pseudo-Liberal press. I must except the Novoe Vremia, a good Slavophile paper, sound on principal questions, and pretty much in harmony with Moscow. 

In this country, I am told, the Conservatives have taken the public-house under their special protection, and that it is to the Liberals the reformers look for assistance. English notions of Liberalism and Conservatism widely differ from ours. If a line should be drawn between our parties, we could designate them only as ‘National’ and ‘Anti-national.’ Hеге is a striking instance of the way in which words are apt to reverse their meaning in different countries. Our pseudo-‘Liberals,’ ‘Constitutionalists,’ ‘St. Petersburgers,’ are in close affinity with your Conservatives; whilst your Liberals approach very nearly, in many things beside foreign policy, to our Slavophiles. I need scarcely say that, whilst the Moscow press in its best representatives is vehemently in favour of the strongest measures against intemperance, at St. Petersburg the movement has excited strong opposition. To interfere with anything always does; and when that anything is an established trade, producing profits of millions, the opposition is naturally very great. Even in England I suppose this is the case, and in Russia this crusade against drink-shops was resented by a host of defenders. One St. Petersburg paper even solemnly protested against any interference with the abundant consumption of brandy (eau de vie=vodka), which was declared to be ‘the traditional custom of the sage and laborious portion of our population on holy days and family solemnities.’ There was more reason in the argument of another St. Petersburg paper, that intemperance depended largely upon the dull and barren life of our villagers. Ignorance, the absence of intellectual occupations, the lack of all innocent distractions, compel the peasant to seek in the drinking-shops the only substitute for books, visitors, and theatres. 

It was very fortunate that neither the Government nor the experts shared these extraordinary theories about the usefulness of drinkshops; on the contrary, the prevailing opinion is positively opposed to them. The initiative, as is generally the case in Russia, has been taken by the Government. One of the first acts of the new reign was the appointment of a committee at the Ministry of Finance to decide what steps should be taken to prevent the abuse of spirituous liquors. 

This committee, after eleven sittings in August and September, drew up a scheme of temperance reform which, in accordance with the excellent rule adopted by the Emperor, was submitted to a special commission of experts, selected from the Zemstvos of the empire for their special acquaintance with the subject to be discussed. 

There were thirty-two members of this commission, to whom two were subsequently added by vote of the commission under the title of special experts. The session of this temperance reform parliament was opened by General Ignatieff on the 24th of September at the Ministry of Finance. In his address, after explaining the desire of the Government that the representatives of the Zemstvos should be consulted before any legislation was undertaken, he referred to the question of intemperance as follows: ‘The sale of spirits in Russia, under the existing conditions, tended rather to the abuse of liquor and to the ruin of the people than to the satisfaction of any of the needs of the latter. The Government is resolved to take efficacious measures to put an end to this sad state of things, and it hopes that you will aid it in discovering the method of doing this without injuring the revenue.’ 

The acting Minister of Finance then made a speech explaining the official view of the method by which this end could best be accomplished. As this may be regarded as the equivalent to the introduction of a Government Licensing Bill into your House of Commons, I translate it in full:— 

Public opinion has already been directed for a long time to the pernicious consequences of ever-increasing intemperance, and the Government itself has had many times to strive against this curse. With the view of discovering the means of contending against the abuse of spirits, the department of indirect taxation has prepared an historical retrospect of the measures taken against intemperance. In the month of August, a special Conference took place at the Ministry of Finances, under the presidency of Baron Rosen. This conference was composed of delegates from the Ministries of the Interior, of Ways and Communications, of War, of the Imperial Court, of the Marine, and of Domains, as well as from the Holy Synod, the second section of Private Chancellerie of His Majesty, the Control of the Empire, and the department of the Appanages, of the St. Petersburg police, and lastly from the Ministry of Finances. The Conference has elaborated a project of a new regulation of the sale of spirits. This regulation has in view:

1. The reduction of the number of spirit-shops.
2. Measures tending to regularise and moralise the sale of drink.
3. A more efficacious surveillance of the traffic.

The most important measures of the first category are:

1. The regulation of the number of spirit-shops by the scale of impost on the licences.
2. The right accorded to corporations and to local authorities to indicate the localities where the sale of spirits should be interdicted, or only permitted in shops of a certain character more inoffensive than the others.
3. The authorisation accorded to rural communes and to individuals to refuse permission to establish spirit-shops on their land.
4. The authorisation accorded to rural communes themselves to hold the spirit-shops in their villages.

Among the measures of the second category may be noted:

1. The obligation imposed upon holders of licences for the sale of drink to be provided with a certificate of good moral character delivered by the rural authorities and the judges of the peace.
2. The regulation of the sale of intoxicants and of their consumption on the premises.
3. The authorisation to serve tea in the village public-houses.

Among the measures of the third category figures the right accorded to society to strive against intemperance by means of temperance associations, parochial protection societies, &c.

The measures proposed by the Conference should not be considered as the resolutions finally approved by the Government, for the Government still wants your advice.

Gentlemen, as to the best way of reaching the end we all have in view, the work of the Conference is not confined to a mere collation of written reports. It should profit by the personal observations of people who have had the opportunity of studying the question. Consequently, if you should desire to obtain personal explanations from members of the Conference, it is open to you to enter into communication with them by inviting them to confer with you. . . .

I think I ought to conclude, gentlemen, with a sincere expose of the views of the Ministry of Finances on the subject now before us. We should not approach this question exclusively from the point of view of the direct pecuniary advantages of the Treasury. At this moment, these advantages ought not to make us lose sight of the problems of public morality and the happy results of raising the scale of that morality and of national prosperity. In such cases financial sacrifices are necessary, but only within the limits of necessity and of prudence, for the financial interests are the interests of the nation, and it is the people who are the first to suffer from a bad state of the finances.

I do not disguise the difficulties of your task, and I believe it is not well to indulge in excessive expectations. The morals of a people are not changed in a day, and the strife against vice demands a constant activity, not only of all the organs of the administration, but also of all the forces of society. The difficulties of the financial side of the question, as well as of the moral end which it is sought to gain, ought not to dismay you. You are bound, above all, to do your duty and to justify the confidence with which His Majesty the Emperor has honoured you.

The opening of the discussions was hailed with a chorus of joy by the national press. The declaration of the Minister of the Interior, that the Government had come to the conclusion that it was not able efficaciously to decide such vital questions as this of intemperance, without consulting competent local agents perfectly familiar with the real state of affairs, was accepted with enthusiasm as enunciating clearly a principle too long forgotten in official circles. They recalled the epoch when it was the custom to settle vital questions by united efforts of the representatives of the people and the Government. The spirit of tutelage was replaced by that of common action, and administrative routine by the active co-operation of truly competent people. Public satisfaction was increased when it was announced that the discussions of this temperance parliament were to be reported in the newspapers, so that all Russia might assist in the labours of the commission. 

It would only weary Englishmen to follow in detail the discussions of this remarkable assembly. Some notable incidents of its deliberations may, however, not be without interest even outside Russia. 

Soon after its discussions began, it was discovered that two of the experts were personally interested in the sale of brandy. A great scandal was created. ‘How could men, who were pecuniarily interested in the widest possible sale of drink, sit as members of a commission charged with the duty of discovering means of limiting that sale?’ exclaimed the experts. After a discussion it was decided that they could not continue to sit in the commission, and they were promptly expelled. Brewers, being manifestly interested in extending the trade, were obviously unfit to decide upon how it could best be diminished. 

The sittings were held daily, and the discussions were followed with the keenest interest throughout the country. Specialists who were not included in the original commission were summoned to give evidence before it. All the information in possession of the administration was at the service of the experts. The discussions were occasionally interrupted by the reading of telegrams from distant Zemstvos, urging the commission to adopt the most stringent measures against the brandy shops. 

Peasants, who arrived with petitions from local assemblies, were heard in person before the committee in support of their prayers. Amongst other communications laid before the experts was an urgent telegram from the Mufti of Oufa, insisting upon the necessity of prohibiting the sale of spirits in Mussulman villages. 

The first decision of the commission of experts, by one of those curious analogies much more common than is generally believed, was identical with the first recommendation of your Committee of the House of Lords on the Licensing Question. 

The first recommendation of the Lords’ Committee, which was made as long ago as 1878, was as follows: ‘That legislative facilities should be afforded for the local adoption of the Gothenburg and of Joseph Chamberlain schemes, or of some modification of them.’ 

The first resolution of our experts, which was carried with only five dissentients, was in favour of giving to the communes the right to open communal public-houses. 

As the subject is of some interest, I will give a few details. Communal public-houses (or what you know as the Gothenburg system) already exist with us in the Grand Duchy of Finland. The Government fixes each year how much alcohol is to be manufactured in the twelve months, divides the production among the distilleries; and levies a tax upon the manufactured spirits. The Crown and rural communes authorise or not, as they please, the establishment of public-houses in their midst. 

To combat the progress of intemperance, the sale of spirits is entrusted to a joint-stock society, founded by persons possessing the general esteem. Each town has its own society, enjoying its special charter, confirmed by the economic department of the Finnish Senate, and the operations of all these local societies is under the control of the governor. The communes can, if they please, deprive the society of the right of selling drink in retail; but, as a rule, the moralising activity of the societies assures for them the preference of the communes, who have organised in their favour a sort of monopoly. The profits of the societies, after deducting 16½ per cent., are employed in works of public utility, and in those which contribute to elevate the morality of the lower classes. At Vyborg, for instance, the profits on the sale of drink are devoted to schools, to the fire brigade, to the public library, to the theatre, &c. From this fund also were paid the expenses of several Finnish workmen who were sent to the Paris Exhibition in 1878. 

The sellers of spirits under this system have no personal interest in pushing the sale of drink. On the contrary, they are deeply interested in enforcing the strict rules against the sale of intoxicants to drunken men, and to women and children. Modifications of the same system are to be found here and there in Russia. At Bogorodsk communal public-houses have been established under an assumed name with great success. The rural commune of Avdotino has made a profit of 18,000 roubles, with which it has bought 500 desiatines of land, and created a reserve fund for communal purposes. 

A neighbouring commune has accumulated 17,000 roubles from the same source. Where these communal public-houses exist, offences against the law diminish, and public morality is remarkably improved. In the district of Bogorodsk also the experiment has been tried with complete success. The abuse of the sale of drink sank to a minimum, and the communal public-house supplies the needs of the people without tempting them to abuse. 

The feeling in favour of communal public-houses was so strong in the commission that many members wished entirely to abolish all private dram-shops, and allow only public-houses owned by the commune. It was decided that individuals should only be licensed to sell drink when the commune refused to undertake the work; that is to say, that the communal public-houses should enjoy a monopoly of the sale. 

The second point decided by the commission was in favour of a reduction of the number of public-houses. It was resolved that the Zemstvos and municipal councils should have the right to decide the number, the size, and the type of public-houses in their locality; the right to issue licenses for commissions to be reserved to a special licensing board, composed of justices of the peace, members of the delegates of the Zemstvos, marshals of the noblesse; and the normal proportion of public-houses to population to be 1 to 1,000, which is equivalent to closing about two-thirds of the existing places of sale. The Zemstvos are to have the right of increasing or decreasing this proportion by 25 per cent. They are also to have the right to close them altogether, or open more than the normal number with the assent of the Minister of Finance and the approval of the provincial assembly. 

They decided in favour of confining the sale of spirits in the rural communes to two descriptions of shops. The first are those with the right of sale for drinking on the premises as you say in England, which answers to your ordinary public-house. The license is only to be given to them on condition that they also provide tea and food for their customers. 

The second description of shops are those for the sale of liquor in corked bottles for consumption at home. Hotels and railway buffets are to be left as they are. Restaurants where drink is sold are to be limited in number by the municipal councils. 

Every three years lists of localities where public-houses can be established are to be drawn up by the Zemstvos, with the assistance of the excise officers. A proposal to permit the local commissary of the police to assist in drawing up these lists was defeated after a very animated dispute. 

Another important decision was that which interdicted any members of the Zemstvos or municipal councils to hold a license for the sale of drink, and the owners of the houses where drink is sold are not to be permitted to vote in the settlement of any questions relating to the drink-shops. They are only allowed to have a consultative voice—a very necessary stipulation. 

It was also decided to forbid the opening of any drink-shop within less than 40 to 100 sagenes (from 90 to 230 yards) from any church, school, or other public building in towns, or within less than 100 to 200 sagenes in villages. 

Communes and individual proprietors are to be allowed to forbid the opening of drink-shops upon their own land. 

One of the decisions at which the experts arrived with only one dissentient, referred to the sale of drink by Jews. Well, we do not like the Jews, that is a fact; and the dislike is reciprocal. But the reason we do not like them is not because of their speculative monotheism, but because of their practical heathenism. To us they are what the relics of the Amorites and Canaanites were to the Hebrews in old times—a debased and demoralised element which is alien to our national life, and a source of indescribable evils to our people. It is not to the Jew as a rejecter of Christianity that we object; it is to the Jew as a bitter enemy of Christian emancipation, the vampire of our rural communes, the tempter of our youth, and the centre of the demoralising, corrupting agencies which impair our civilisation. Ask anybody who has lived, if only for a day or two, near our custom-houses, and you will learn that all the smugglers, all the receivers of stolen goods, all the keepers of brandy-shops are the degenerate descendants of the great Semitic race. If the Jews but obeyed the ten commandments of their Lawgiver, there would be but little objection to them in Russia. But as even Moses found his Jews more than he could manage when his back was turned, it is perhaps not surprising that Russians have much difficulty in managing a people in whose ears the thunders of Sinai have long since grown faint. 

The Pall Mall Gazette recently, in a fit of noble indignation, delivered a very long lecture on the cruelties of Jew-baiting in Russia. It might have had some weight if the writer had not been as inaccurate as he was prejudiced. For instance, Russians were solemnly upbraided for confining the chosen people to ‘the most ignoble occupations.’ No doubt. But considering the number of Jewish journalists in Russia, the editor of the Pall Mall Gazette does not seem to think much of the dignity of his profession. But Jews are not only journalists with us; they also follow the equally ‘ignoble’ occupations of professors, teachers, authors, lawyers, barristers, doctors, bankers, merchants, to say nothing of those who occupy positions in the Government service. I was immensely amused in reading in the same impartial paper a letter from a correspondent that M. Aksakoff and his friends are the real ringleaders of these disgraceful anti-Jewish rioters, just as I suppose many people say that the Pall Mall Gazette and its friends are the real authors of the disgraceful Land League outrages in Ireland. The most amusing part of this nonsensical letter was its confident assumption that a few more sweet- tempered and well-informed articles in English newspapers—whose immense influence and circulation in Russia every one knows—will actually upset our present Ministry, and bring the Jews and their admirers into power. I do not deny that the censures of European opinion have some effect in Russia; but, as the Poles discovered in 1863, it is not exactly that which our censors desire. 

An intelligent diplomatist, who has lived a long time in Russia, said to me the other day, when we were discussing this question, ‘The forbearance of the Russians is wonderful. No one can imagine how much they have suffered at the hands of these Jews. It is strange that these outbreaks have never occurred before.’ But it is by no means only Russians who find it difficult to love the Jews. The riots in Warsaw, where our Government made no fewer than 2,700 arrests, although there were as many Christians as Jews injured, were made not only by Orthodox Russians but by Catholic Poles. Nor is Protestant Germany behind her neighbours in this agitation. 

According to a letter from Berlin, Prince Bismarck some time ago was interrogated about the anti-Semitic movement. He at first hesitated, then said with a smile, ‘As a Minister of State, I condemn it; but,’ he added with emphasis, ‘as a Prussian, as a German, as a Christian, as a man, I cannot help but approve it.’ Unfortunately, wherever the Jews are numerous, they are hated. It is only where they are an imperceptible handful that they find admirers. There is one ‘ignoble occupation,’ however, to which the Jews are very much devoted. The Jewish papers declare that no fewer than one hundred thousand Jewish families will be ruined if the Jews are not permitted to keep open these infamous drink-shops which are the curse of the Russian communes. How many hundred thousand honest Russian families, I wonder, have these Jewish brandy-sellers ruined? 

That our objection is solely to the anti-national Jews, not to Jews who become Russians in all but their origin, is proved by the decision of the commission in favour of allowing the Karaite Jews, or ‘Karaimes,’ as they are called, and call themselves, in Russia, to sell drink as freely as any other of their Russian fellow-subjects. It is only the Talmudist Jews who are forbidden that privilege. 

The Karaite delegates have urged the Government to proclaim them as not belonging to the Jewish family. The Russian Government has always protected them; our great Empress Catherine the Second granted them very important prerogatives. In legal questions they share all the rights of the Russians. But the Karaites unfortunately are not numerous—about ten thousand people altogether; whilst the Talmudist Jews amount to about three millions, who chiefly live in Russian towns, and are hostile to agriculture. In France the number of the Jews hardly reaches fifty thousand; in England, sixty. It is not surprising that so small a handful ‘does almost no harm in England,’ as I am assured by my English friends. 

The Karaites are regarded by the Talmudists as schismatics. They believe in Moses, they reject the Talmud; but although they do not believe in Christianity, they are subject to no disabilities, and they were specially exempted from the prohibition to Jews to keep public-houses. It really is a remarkable sect; their chief characteristics are honesty, loyalty, and cleanliness. They are generally very highly thought of in Russia, and are great agriculturists. If our objection had been merely due to race hatred, there would have been no reason for this distinction. The experts, as if still further to emphasise their desire to avoid anything approaching to persecution; passed a further resolution, although only by a majority of one, in favour of allowing even the anti-national Talmudist Jews to undertake the surveillance of the sale of spirits, if they were nominated for the post by the votes of their neighbours. This proves clearly enough, I suppose, that if their moral character were of a higher level, they would never have been actually dangerous, and therefore estranged. 

As the worst intemperance arises from the abuse of spirits, it was thought expedient to encourage rather than to prohibit the sale of beer. But although this was almost the unanimous opinion of the experts, it was at the same time decided that the local Zemstvos should have the right to close even the beershops, if they deemed it desirable. The principle of ‘local option’ is very strong in Russia. Trust this fact or not, but it is quite true nevertheless, that you will seek in vain for a country where the principle of local self-government is more generally accepted than in Russia. The central power is autocratic, of course; but each of the village communes, which in their aggregate compose the empire, is democratic to the last extreme. It is the wide liberty of the commune which enables us to bear, without many of us even feeling it, the pressure of ‘despotism.’ 

If our peasants are free to manage the affairs that concern them, and each man or woman landholder has a voice and a vote at the communal councils, they can support, believe me, with all necessary fortitude, the terrible deprivation of not being consulted about the rectification of the frontier of Mantchuria, or the regulation of the navigation of the Danube. 

To judge from some of the literature of your temperance movement, there are some Englishmen who would prefer to exchange the privilege of directing the foreign policy of India for the more simple liberty which every Russian commune is to possess, of banishing from its limits the village brandy-shop. 

This year’s licenses are only to be issued for six months instead of twelve, in order that the Government and the communes may be unfettered in dealing with them. But not a word was said about compensating those whose licenses will not be renewed next July. In fact, the very idea of compensating those who have only demoralised the community seems simply absurd to my countrymen. 

The recommendations of the commission of experts may thus be summarised: (1) Liberty to the communes to close all places for the sale of drink within the communal limits. (2) Permission to be given to the communes to establish communal monopolies of the sale of drink. (3) No public-houses to be established above 25 per cent, in excess of one per thousand of the population, and that only with the consent of the Zemstvo. (4) Tea and food to be sold at all places where drink is consumed on the premises. (5) Licenses to be granted by contract (par voie de soumissions), and the price in excess of the minimum fixed by law to be divided according to the wants of the agricultural populations. (6) Rigorous supervision of the public-houses by the local authorities; and last, but not least, no Talmudist Jews to be allowed to keep a shop for the sale of drink. What will be the fate of these recommendations I do not know; they represent not the decisions of an authoritative body, but the recommendations of an imperial commission. It may be that these experts, in their anxiety to realise an ideal of Mr. Gladstone—that of legislating so as to make it easy to do right and difficult to do wrong—may have aimed too high, seeking rather what ought to be than what is possible to accomplish. But these views are notable as those of honest, experienced Russians on one of the greatest questions of the day. Perhaps it is even the greatest. So it certainly appears to many in my country. ‘The emancipation of the peasant from drunkenness,’ they say, ‘is as great a work as his emancipation from serfdom.’ If this seems fanatical to any in England, people should remember that Russians never do things by halves, and that even Englishmen as far apart as Mr. Cobden and Professor Huxley agree that, in the words of the former, ‘the temperance cause lies at the foundation of all social and political reform.’ Professor Huxley, indeed, has declared: ‘Talk of political questions? There lies beneath all these questions the great question whether that profligate misery which dogs the footsteps of modern civilisation shall be allowed to exist. I believe that is the great political question of the future!’ There are many who question the possibility of dealing so summarily with a source of so much revenue. But the Russian National party replies, Mr. Gladstone, that ‘fiscal grounds must necessarily be secondary. The question ought to be decided entirely on social and moral grounds.’ 

If intemperance ceased, the peasant could afford to pay even more taxes than those which he pays while poisoning himself with brandy. But there is another reply, that is urged with much force and earnestness by Mr. Katkoff in the Moscow Gazette. Whatever may be done by law, the sale of drink will continue. If it is reduced by half, a greater good will be achieved than many believe possible. To secure the State against loss, Mr. Katkoff urges the State to monopolise that of tobacco, or as you monopolise the production of opium in India. 

In Russia in 1879, including Poland and Siberia, there were 2,756 distilleries. If the Government monopolised the production of all these distilleries, it could fix its own price; and if it secured the profits now absorbed by the manufacturers, a much less sale would still bring in the same revenue, as by raising the price it could increase its receipts. 

Russians in temperance as in intemperance are given to extremes. We have our total prohibitionists as well as you. The experts however, concluded that, if the fееling in favour of local prohibition is strong, it will be enough to allow it to be legally enforced. If the local feeling is adverse to complete prohibition, a decree of the Central Government would only be evaded, and fall into contempt. They seem to have gone as far as is prudent. 1 wonder whether your House of Commons is inclined to go as far as this. 

It is really remarkable what a strong feeling there is in Russia in favour of improving the condition of the people. We have been crusading all over the world for the benefit of other countries. We are now displaying the same energy for the benefit of our own peasants. These, at least, cannot be more ungrateful than Prince Milan of Servia and his present Ministers; and the fruits of our campaign against intemperance and ignorance no Berlin Congress will interfere to snatch away. Russia, believe me, for the time has no ambition to play a prominent role in European drama. As Prince Gortchakoff said after the Crimean war: La Russie ne boude pas, elle se recueille. Russia sulks not, like Achilles in his tent: she is recovering her energies, developing her resources, educating and moralising her people. ‘The wish is father to the thought’ of those who fail to recognise that. Circumstances might, of course, at any moment compel any great country to enter the field. Over some things no autocrat, not even the House оf Commons, has control; but all the legends accepted so greedily by the credulous West about Russia proposing this war or suggesting this aggression are too absurd. Our strength is to sit still, so far as foreign politics are concerned, in order that we may the more vigorously apply ourselves to the work of internal improvement. For my part, I am convinced that that credulity is not sincere. It is simply one of those numerous newspaper manoeuvres which have already greatly contributed to the diminution of the influence of the press. It is unworthy of serious papers to play the part of catch-pennies, but I dare say I am not a good judge of profitable speculations. 

‘The condition of the people question,’ as Carlyle used to call it, is the question of the day in Russia. M. Leroy-Beaulieu laughs at what he is pleased to call the ‘Apotheosis of the Mujik,’ but we do not seek to deify, only to develop, our peasants. The programme of the experts covers but a small part of the field. It deals with the negatives, and is almost entirely restrictive. Like the Decalogue, it says continually: ‘Thou shalt not.’ But a nation, like individuals, cannot exist on negatives. If they must not drink brandy, they must drink something else to keep them warm during the winters, and upon this the attention of our reformers has been turned. In the army it has been proved that the establishment of canteens for the sale of tea to our troops produced a much greater diminution of intemperance than the most vigorous measures for its punishment. The sale of tea, therefore, is to be made compulsory at all brandy-shops that are to be licensed in the future. But that is not all. Russian tea is the best in Europe, but, like most good things, it cannot be bought cheaply. The method of carrying it over the steppe, which improves the flavour of the tea, adds to its price. The commonest tea in Russia costs about four shillings a pound, and our pound is less than yours. One of the steps to be taken is the lowering of the import duty on tea. 

There is another direction in which the temperance movement is working, and that is by appealing to the people to abstain from drink. I know it is the fashion among many to represent the Orthodox Church as if it were hopeless to look for any moral or spiritual revival by its agency. Unfortunately, the Orthodox Church—and in that widely differing from the Roman Catholic—is not only indifferent to proselytism, it is even hostile to proselytising. ‘Let those who earnestly long for truth, seek and deserve it by their energetic and earnest efforts. The Church wants no subterfuges and humble inducements in trying to have new, half-convinced converts,’ say those who represent her.³

In that non-proselytism the Eastern Church goes perhaps too far; but in this dignified attitude there is a certain analogy with the Russian national pride, which also objects to explanations and justifications. ‘What does it matter,’ I am often told, ‘what is said, written, or thought about Russia? Whatever we do, we have no need to answer, no explanation to offer.’ Such is decidedly not my view, and I therefore return to my theme. 

The Orthodox Church has at least energetically co-operated with the National Government in the work of moral reformation. The Holy Synod has issued striking little tracts and handbills explaining the evils of intemperance, illustrating them by anatomical plates; and it is interesting, they tell me—for they were issued after I had left Russia in August—to see the crowds gather round these placards in the streets reading the synodical appeal, and discussing the illustrations. 

A still more promising effort is being made by the clergy. In each parish it is proposed to form—in some parishes it is already in full working—a kind of parish improvement society, under the presidency of the priests, for the moral, intellectual, and social amelioration of the condition of the people. At Vilna, where one of these protection societies—as they are called—is in full working order, the members of the society undertake the surveillance of public-houses. They compel them to close at nine o’clock every night. They make periodical visits to all the drinking-places, and if they find any one intoxicated, they immediately take him home. On the first occasion, the drunkard is admonished before his family; on the second, he is publicly rebuked; and on the third, he is compelled to pay a slight fine. 

These societies also take a great interest in getting the children to school, and in organising charitable relief. Particulars of the constitution, and object, and mode of working of the society at Vilna have been sent to every parish priest in Russia, in the hope that similar action may be taken in every village in the empire. 

These particulars I learned from that excellent little weekly paper Selsky Vestnik (or Village Messenger), which deserves especial mention in any account of the efforts now being made to improve the intellectual and social condition of the peasants. The Village Messenger is a paper established by Count Ignatieff for the purpose of providing the poorest peasants with a weekly supply of trustworthy intelligence. Originally intended, probably, to counteract the seditious publications secretly circulated by the Nihilists, it has become a great agency for the enlightenment of the people. It is said that 500,000 copies of this paper are circulated every week in Russia. A copy of it is sent gratis by the Government to every volost in the empire, where every peasant can read it, or have it read to him. The Village Messenger can be subscribed for at the rate of three roubles a year, free by post. In shape it resembles your Family Herald, and varies in size from eight to twelve pages. Clearly printed on good paper, it supplies so great a want that every one is surprised it was never thought of before. 

All the readers—and it must have millions—of the Village Messenger are invited to ask any question they please, and to send any contribution they like of news or of opinion. These questions will be answered as far as possible, and these contributions of the peasants have hitherto taken the shape of letters demanding the suppression of the drink-shops. Correspondents make the Village Messenger look like a Russian version of your Alliance News. 

The contents of this paper are varied so as to suit the taste of its million readers. There are interesting details of the Imperial Family, stories of heroism of Russian soldiers, descriptions of celebrated churches and monasteries, reports of the state of the crops, the prices of corn, the demand for labour, copies of new ukases, with explanations as to their meaning, together with articles dealing with practical farming questions, and vigorous exhortations to virtue, beneficence, economy, cleanliness, and industry. Of course the Village Messenger is but a small paper, and it cannot be compared with the great journals of the capitals. But to the peasant communes buried in our vast forests or scattered over endless steppes, the weekly arrival of the Selsky Vestnik is perhaps an even greater mental stimulus and excitement than the daily newspaper to the citizens of the capital. 

And here let me say that, although I have carefully read every number of the Selsky Vestnik that has yet appeared, I have failed to find any of that strong anti-English spirit which the St. James’s Gazette discerned in its pages, and not the slightest intimation that Russia is preparing to invade India. That, however, is such a morbid idee fixe with the editors of some London papers, that it is not surprising that even the innocent little Selsky Vestnik acts as mirror to their thoughts. One is always interested in sincere convictions, no matter how absurd they are, but conviction must be weak indeed if it has to invoke the support of manufactured evidence. 

Free newspapers, temperance placards, cheap tea, parish improvement societies, are not all the means used to combat intemperance. In Russia, as elsewhere, people drink very often from mere idleness. Drink is their only recreation. So to provide cheap amusement is to create a powerful rival to the attractions of the drink-shop. It is with this end in view that steps have been taken by the municipal council of St. Petersburg and the police to found in the capital a popular theatre, to be maintained by the municipality, and to create for the masses an alternative to the debasing pleasure of intemperance. Similar proposals have been made elsewhere; but of course, even at the best, theatres can only be established in the large towns. In small places reading-rooms and tea-houses are all that can be provided. 

More important than any of these projects is the work of popular education. To meet the wants of scattered villages ecoles ambulantes are being organised, so that one master may direct education in three or four places. Night schools are also being established for those who are at work through the day. A society has been formed at St. Petersburg, with branches in all the provinces, for the purpose of organising industrial, agricultural, and technical schools, museums, exhibitions, &c., in towns and villages throughout Russia. The Zemstvos are paying more attention to the secondary education of the people. 

Perhaps it may be interesting to give here an extract from the statistical work of M. A. Popoff, who has just completed his account of the state of public education in Russia in 1873. ‘In that year Russia had 38,789 public schools with 1,931,319 scholars (1,408,602 boys and 522,717 girls). That is, there was one school for every 2,195 scholars, and one scholar to every forty-four inhabitants: 19 per cent of these scholars belong to Finland. In Russia the average number of children for school is forty-nine. The districts best supplied with schools are Finland and the Baltic provinces. In Russia and Europe the average in one school is 648 inhabitants, in Siberia 1 to 166, although in two provinces of the Amour the proportion is 1 to 24, over the Transbaikal 1 to 26, and in Central Asia 1 to 116. The cost of education in 1876 was 9,364,738 roubles, of which 2,703,603 were furnished by one Zemstvo, 4,214,836 by one common municipality, and 2,446,279 by individuals. The average cost for a scholar is 4 roubles 84 copecks, and for a school 241 roubles per annum.’ 

The moral and religious tendency which prevails in Russia at present makes itself felt in many ways. One day an Imperial decree closes all the Russian theatres on Sunday and some fast-days; another, the municipal council of Smolensk forbids the holding of the weekly fair on Sunday, and insists on the Sunday closing of all shops not dealing in articles of necessity. There is also a humanitarian tendency in the project of the law for limiting children’s labour in factories, and providing inspection. If this law is sanctioned by the Emperor, no child under 12 will be allowed to work in a factory after the 1st of June, 1882. From the age of 12 to 18 all night-work is forbidden, and no more than twelve hours a day must be passed in a factory. Every factory must be visited at least twice a year by a Government inspector. The question of workmen’s insurance is exciting much attention, and every social question is keenly discussed. 

If after all these efforts, after this revival of new energies, the condition of the people does not improve—but no—that must not, that cannot be! 

OLGA NOVIKOFF, née KIRÉEFF. 

1. The Alliance News (November 23) gives a tabular statement of returns of all taxes and imposts on intoxicating liquors and the liquor traffic for the year ending March 31,1881. For the purpose of comparison the totals of the last eight years, as given below, may be found useful:—

   Comparative Statement of the Total Gross Proceeds to the Revenue, &c. from the Liquor Traffic for the past Eight Years.

   	£		£
   1874	33,299,062	1878	33,044,323
   1875	33,052,568	1879	32,102,136
   1876	33,712,964	1880	29,614,496
   1877	33,447,282	1881	29,497,666

2.  The following are the exact figures, as given by the Novoe Vremia. In

   	£		£
   1863	257,531	1874	150,508
   1864	273,207	1875	139,142
   1866	239,324	1876	135,399
   1868	233,268	1877	131,985
   1870	217,561	1878	134,055
   1871	211,526	1879	141,962
   1872	211,626	1880	144,159
   1873	209,120	1881	146,500

3. This, however, is not the opinion of Dr. Overbeck, the editor of the Orthodox Catholic Review, whose learned work on the claims of the Orthodox Catholic Church has ‘been highly appreciated even by the advanced Unitarian organ The Inquirer.’ Dr. Overbeck greatly regrets the prevalence of this opinion in our Church.