And any man who has lived in Russia, has dabbled in Russian humanity,
and noted the singular unattractiveness of Russian life--any such man
can scarcely deny the fact that if one deprives the moujik of his
privilege of getting gloriously and frequently intoxicated, one takes
away from that same moujik the one happiness of his existence.
That the Russian peasant is by nature one of the cheeriest, the
noisiest, and lightest-hearted of men is only another proof of the
Creator's power; for this dimly lighted "soul" has nothing to cheer him
on his forlorn way but the memory of the last indulgence in strong drink
and the hope of more to come. He is harassed by a ruthless
tax-collector; he is shut off from the world by enormous distances over
impracticable roads. When the famine comes, and come it assuredly will,
the moujik has no alternative but to stay where he is and starve. Since
Alexander II. of philanthropic memory made the Russian serf a free man,
the blessings of freedom have been found to resolve themselves chiefly
into a perfect liberty to die of starvation, of cold, or of dire
disease. When he was a serf this man was of some small value to some
one; now he is of no consequence to any one whatsoever except himself,
and, with considerable intelligence, he sets but small store upon his
own existence. Freedom, in fact, came to him before he was ready for it;
and, hampered as he has been by petty departmental tyranny, governmental
neglect, and a natural stupidity, he has made very small progress toward
a mental independence.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100