It is but fair to state that in one celebrated instance neither engineers nor railway contractors were directly to blame.  From St. Petersburg to Moscow the locomotive runs for a distance of 400 miles almost as “the crow” is supposed to fly, turning neither to the right hand nor to the left.  For twelve weary hours the passenger in the express train looks out on forest and morass, and rarely catches sight of human habitation.  Only once he perceives in the distance what may be called a town; it is Tver which has been thus favoured, not because it is a place of importance, but simply because it happened to be near the bee-line.  And why was the railway constructed in this extraordinary fashion?  For the best of all reasons—­because the Tsar so ordered it.  When the preliminary survey was being made, Nicholas I. learned that the officers entrusted with the task—­and the Minister of Ways and Roads in the number—­were being influenced more by personal than technical considerations, and he determined to cut the Gordian knot in true Imperial style.  When the Minister laid before him the map with the intention of explaining the proposed route, he took a ruler, drew a straight line from the one terminus to the other, and remarked in a tone that precluded all discussion, “You will construct the line so!” And the line was so constructed—­remaining to all future ages, like St. Petersburg and the Pyramids, a magnificent monument of autocratic power.

Formerly this well-known incident was often cited in whispered philippics to illustrate the evils of the autocratic form of government.  Imperial whims, it was said, over-ride grave economic considerations.  In recent years, however, a change seems to have taken place in public opinion, and some people now assert that this so-called Imperial whim was an act of far-seeing policy.  As by far the greater part of the goods and passengers are carried the whole length of the line, it is well that the line should be as short as possible, and that branch lines should be constructed to the towns lying to the right and left.  Evidently there is a good deal to be said in favour of this view.

In the development of the railway system there has been another disturbing cause, which is not likely to occur to the English mind.  In England, individuals and companies habitually act according to their private interests, and the State interferes as little as possible; private initiative does as it pleases, unless the authorities can prove that important bad consequences will necessarily result.  In Russia, the onus probandi lies on the other side; private initiative is allowed to do nothing until it gives guarantees against all possible bad consequences.  When any great enterprise is projected, the first question is—­“How will this new scheme affect the interests of the State?” Thus, when the course of a new railway has to be determined, the military authorities are among the first to be consulted, and their opinion has a great influence