This Abolitionist fervour was considerably augmented by certain political aspirations which did not appear in the newspapers, but which were at that time very generally entertained.  In spite of the Press-censure a large section of the educated classes had become acquainted with the political literature of France and Germany, and had imbibed therefrom an unbounded admiration for Constitutional government.  A Constitution, it was thought, would necessarily remove all political evils and create something like a political Millennium.  And it was not to be a Constitution of the ordinary sort—­the fruit of compromise between hostile political parties—­but an institution designed calmly according to the latest results of political science, and so constructed that all classes would voluntarily contribute to the general welfare.  The necessary prelude to this happy era of political liberty was, of course, the abolition of serfage.  When the nobles had given up their power over their serfs they would receive a Constitution as an indemnification and reward.

There were, however, many nobles of the old school who remained impervious to all these new feelings and ideas.  On them the raising of the Emancipation question had a very different effect.  They had no source of revenue but their estates, and they could not conceive the possibility of working their estates without serf labour.  If the peasant was indolent and careless even under strict supervision, what would he become when no longer under the authority of a master?  If the profits from farming were already small, what would they be when no one would work without wages?  And this was not the worst, for it was quite evident from the circular that the land question was to be raised, and that a considerable portion of each estate would be transferred, at least for a time, to the emancipated peasants.

To the proprietors who looked at the question in this way the prospect of Emancipation was certainly not at all agreeable, but we must not imagine that they felt as English land-owners would feel if threatened by a similar danger.  In England a hereditary estate has for the family a value far beyond what it would bring in the market.  It is regarded as one and indivisible, and any dismemberment of it would be looked upon as a grave family misfortune.  In Russia, on the contrary, estates have nothing of this semi-sacred character, and may be at any time dismembered without outraging family feeling or traditional associations.  Indeed, it is not uncommon that when a proprietor dies, leaving only one estate and several children, the property is broken up into fractions and divided among the heirs.  Even the prospect of pecuniary sacrifice did not alarm the Russians so much as it would alarm Englishmen.  Men who keep no accounts and take little thought for the morrow are much less averse to making pecuniary sacrifices—­whether for a wise or a foolish purpose—­than those who carefully arrange their mode of life according to their income.