On my arrival at Ivanofka my knowledge of the institution was of that vague, superficial kind which is commonly derived from men who are fonder of sweeping generalisations and rhetorical declamation than of serious, patient study of phenomena.  I knew that the chief personage in a Russian village is the Selski Starosta, or Village Elder, and that all important Communal affairs are regulated by the Selski Skhod, or Village Assembly.  Further, I was aware that the land in the vicinity of the village belongs to the Commune, and is distributed periodically among the members in such a way that every able-bodied peasant possesses a share sufficient, or nearly sufficient, for his maintenance.  Beyond this elementary information I knew little or nothing.

My first attempt at extending my knowledge was not very successful.  Hoping that my friend Ivan might be able to assist me, and knowing that the popular name for the Commune is Mir, which means also “the world,” I put to him the direct, simple question, “What is the Mir?”

Ivan was not easily disconcerted, but for once he looked puzzled, and stared at me vacantly.  When I endeavoured to explain to him my question, he simply knitted his brows and scratched the back of his head.  This latter movement is the Russian peasant’s method of accelerating cerebral action; but in the present instance it had no practical result.  In spite of his efforts, Ivan could not get much further than the “Kak vam skazat’?” that is to say, “How am I to tell you?”

It was not difficult to perceive that I had adopted an utterly false method of investigation, and a moment’s reflection sufficed to show me the absurdity of my question.  I had asked from an uneducated man a philosophical definition, instead of extracting from him material in the form of concrete facts, and constructing therefrom a definition for myself.  These concrete facts Ivan was both able and willing to supply; and as soon as I adopted a rational mode of questioning, I obtained from him all I wanted.  The information he gave me, together with the results of much subsequent conversation and reading, I now propose to present to the reader in my own words.

The peasant family of the old type is, as we have just seen, a kind of primitive association in which the members have nearly all things in common.  The village may be roughly described as a primitive association on a larger scale.

Between these two social units there are many points of analogy.  In both there are common interests and common responsibilities.  In both there is a principal personage, who is in a certain sense ruler within and representative as regards the outside world:  in the one case called Khozain, or Head of the Household, and in the other Starosta, or Village Elder.  In both the authority of the ruler is limited:  in the one case by the adult members of the family, and in the other by the Heads of Households.  In both there is a certain amount of common property: