Tzar. No
collector of government taxes fears for his charge in travelling
through the least settled districts. The money he carries belongs to
the Tzar and is sacred; no peasant would touch it. The Tzar is the
father of his people, commanding parental obedience and respect. The
author believes this sentiment to be largely reciprocal, and that the
monarch has sincerely the best good of the people at heart.
A fresh scandal has lately been started in the columns of the
European press, notably in the English and German papers,--that the
Tzar is addicted to gross intemperance, and may at any time in a
moment of excess plunge headlong into a foreign war. Of course no
casual visitor to Russia can offer competent evidence to the
contrary; but it was our privilege to see Alexander III. on several
occasions, and at different periods of the day, being each time
strongly impressed with a very different estimate of his habits. The
Emperor presents no aspect of excess of any sort, but on the contrary
appears like one conscious of his great responsibility and actuated
by a calm conscientious resolve to fulfil its requirements. "What
King so strong can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?" asks
Shakspeare.
Our remarks as to the honesty of the peasantry in all matters
relating to the Tzar must not be taken as indicating the honesty of
the Russian masses generally, as regards strangers and one another,
especially those of the large cities and the habitues of the great
fairs. There are no more adroit thieves in Christendom than those of
St. Petersburg and Moscow. Some of the anecdotes relating to these
gentry seem almost incredible for boldness, adroitness, and success.
There is a familiar proverb here which says, "The common Russian may
be stupid, but he would only make one mouthful of the Devil himself!"
Intemperance is the great bane of the lower classes, and the
aggregate quantity of spirit consumed by the people is almost beyond
belief, though St. Petersburg is not to be compared with Moscow in
this very objectionable respect. The chief means of intoxication is
the drinking of Vodka, brandy made from grain. The drunken Russian
however is not as a rule quarrelsome, he only becomes more lovingly
demonstrative and foolish. A ludicrous though sad evidence of this
peculiarity was observed in front of the Hotel d'Angleterre. A
well-dressed and intelligent appearing citizen paused opposite the
principal entrance, took off his h
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