* It was a common saying at that time that nearly all the best men in Russia had spent a part of their lives in Siberia, and it was proposed to publish a biographical dictionary of remarkable men, in which every article was to end thus:  “Exiled to ——­ in 18—.”  I am not aware how far the project was seriously entertained, but, of course, the book was never published.

And to these reproaches what could they reply?  Like a child who has in his frolics inadvertently set the house on fire, they could only look contrite, and say they did not mean it.  They had simply accepted without criticism the existing order of things, and ranged themselves among those who were officially recognised as “the well-intentioned.”  If they had always avoided the Liberals, and perhaps helped to persecute them, it was simply because all “well-intentioned” people said that Liberals were “restless” and dangerous to the State.  Those who were not convinced of their errors simply kept silence, but the great majority passed over to the ranks of the Progressists, and many endeavoured to redeem their past by showing extreme zeal for the Liberal cause.

In explanation of this extraordinary outburst of reform enthusiasm, we must further remember that the Russian educated classes, in spite of the severe northern climate which is supposed to make the blood circulate slowly, are extremely impulsive.  They are fettered by no venerable historical prejudices, and are wonderfully sensitive to the seductive influence of grandiose projects, especially when these excite the patriotic feelings.  Then there was the simple force of reaction—­the rebound which naturally followed the terrific compression of the preceding reign.  Without disrespect, the Russians of that time may be compared to schoolboys who have just escaped from the rigorous discipline of a severe schoolmaster.  In the first moments of freedom it was supposed that there would be no more discipline or compulsion.  The utmost respect was to be shown to “human dignity,” and every Russian was to act spontaneously and zealously at the great work of national regeneration.  All thirsted for reforming activity.  The men in authority were inundated with projects of reform—­some of them anonymous, and others from obscure individuals; some of them practical, and very many wildly fantastic.  Even the grammarians showed their sympathy with the spirit of the time by proposing to expel summarily all redundant letters from the Russian alphabet!

The fact that very few people had clear, precise ideas as to what was to be done did not prevent, but rather tended to increase, the reform enthusiasm.  All had at least one common feeling—­dislike to what had previously existed.  It was only when it became necessary to forsake pure negation, and to create something, that the conceptions became clearer, and a variety of opinions appeared.  At the first moment there was merely unanimity in negation, and an impulsive enthusiasm for beneficent reforms in general.