So it is with Dostoievski. Dostoievski’s characters are mostly abnormal, but it is in their very abnormality that we recognise their profound and poignant humanity and a thousand human traits that we ourselves share. And in showing us humanity at its acutest, at its intensest pitch of suffering, at the soul’s lowest depth of degradation, or highest summit of aspiration, he makes us feel his comprehension, pity, and love for everything that is in us, so that we feel that there is nothing which we could think or experience; no sensation, no hope, no ambition, no despair, no disappointment, no regret, no greatness, no meanness that he would not understand; no wound, no sore for which he would not have just the very balm and medicine which we need. Pity and love are the chief elements of the work of Dostoievski—pity such as King Lear felt on the heath; and just as the terrible circumstances in which King Lear raves and wanders make his pity all the greater and the more poignant in its pathos, so do the fantastic, nightmarish circumstances in which Dostoievski’s characters live make their humanness more poignant, their love more lovable, their pity more piteous.
A great writer should see “life steadily and see life whole.” Dostoievski does not see the whole of life steadily, like Tolstoi, for instance, but he sees the soul of man whole, and perhaps he sees more deeply into it than any other writer has done. He shrinks from nothing. He sees the “soul of goodness in things evil”: not exclusively the evil, like Zola; nor does he evade the evil like many of our writers. He sees and pities it. And this is why his work is great. He writes about the saddest things that can happen; the most melancholy, the most hopeless, the most terrible things in the world; but his books do not leave us with a feeling of despair; on the contrary, his own “sweet reasonableness,” the pity and love with which they are filled are like balm. We are left with a belief in some great inscrutable goodness, and his books act upon us as once his conversation did on a fellow prisoner whom he met on the way to Siberia. The man was on the verge of suicide; but after Dostoievski had talked to him for an hour—we may be sure there was no sermonising in that talk—he felt able to go on, to live even with perpetual penal servitude before him. To some people, Dostoievski’s books act in just this way, and it is, therefore, not odd that they think him the greatest of all writers.
CHAPTER XII
THE POLITICAL PARTIES
Moscow, March 11th.
The political parties which are now crystallising themselves are the result of the Liberal movement which began in the twenties, and proceeded steadily until the beginning of the war in 1904, when the Liberal leaders resolved, for patriotic reasons, to mark time and wait. This cessation of hostilities did not last long, and the disasters caused by the war produced so universal a feeling of discontent that the liberation movement was automatically set in motion once more.
On the 19th of June, 1905, a deputation of the United Zemstva, at the head of which was Prince S. N. Troubetzkoi, was received by the Emperor. Prince Troubetzkoi, in a historic speech, expressed with the utmost frankness and directness the imperative need of sweeping reform and of the introduction of national representation. The coalition of the Zemstva formed the first political Russian party, but it was not until after the great strike, and the granting of the Manifesto in October, that parties of different shades came into existence and took definite shape. During the month which followed the Manifesto the process of crystallisation of parties began, and is still continuing, and they can now roughly be divided into three categories—Right, Centre, and Left, the Right being the extreme Conservatives, the Centre the Constitutional Monarchists, and the Left consisting of two wings, the Constitutional Democrats on the right and the Social Democrats and Social Revolutionaries on the left. Of these the most important is the party of the Constitutional Democrats, nicknamed the “Cadets.” “Cadets” means “K.D.,” the word “Constitutional” being spelt with a “K” in Russian, and as the letter “K” in the Russian alphabet has the same sound as it has in French, the result is a word which sounds exactly like the French word “Cadet.” Similarly, Social Revolutionaries are nicknamed “S.R.’s” and the Social Democrats “S.D.’s.”
In order to understand the origin of the Constitutional Democrats one must understand the part played by the Zemstva. In 1876 a group of County Councillors, or Zemstvoists, under the leadership of M. Petrunkevitch devoted themselves to the task of introducing reforms in the economical condition of Russia. In 1894 their representatives, headed by M. Rodichev, were summarily sent about their business, after putting forward a few moderate demands. In 1902 these men formed with others a “League of Liberation.” M. Schipov tried to unite these various “Zemstva” in a common organisation, and some of the members of the Liberation League, while co-operating with them, started a separate organisation called the Zemstvo Constitutionalists. Among the members of this group were names which are well known in Russia, such as Prince Dolgoroukov, MM. Stachovitch, Kokoshkin, and Lvov. But these “Zemstvoists” formed only a small group; what they needed, in order to represent thinking Russia, was to be united with the professional classes. In November, 1904, the various professions began to group themselves together in political bodies. Various political unions were formed, such as those of the engineers, doctors, lawyers, and schoolmasters. Then Professor Milioukov, one of the leading pioneers of the Liberal movement, whose name is well known in Europe and America, united all professional unions into a great “Union of Unions,” which represented the great mass of educated Russia. Before the great strike in October, 1905, he created, together with the best of his colleagues, a new political party, which united the mass of professional opinion with the small group of Zemstvo leaders. He had recognised the fact that the Zemstvoists were the only men who had any political experience, and that they could do nothing without enrolling the professional class. Therefore it is owing to Professor Milioukov that the experienced Zemstvo leaders in October had the whole rank and file of the middle class behind them, and the Constitutional Democrats, as they are at present, represent practically the whole “Intelligenzia,” or professional class, of Russia. This party is the only one which is seriously and practically organised. This being so, it is the most important of the political parties.
Those of the Right have not enough followers to give them importance, and those of the Left have announced their intention of boycotting the elections. These various parties are now preparing for the elections.
We are experiencing now the suspense of an entr’acte before the curtain rises once more on the next act of the revolutionary drama. This will probably occur when the Duma meets in April. People of all parties seem to be agreed as to one thing, that the present state of things cannot last. There is at present a reaction against reaction. After the disorders here in December many people were driven to the Right; now the reactionary conduct of the Government has driven them back to the Left.
So many people have been arrested lately that there is no longer room for them in prison. An influential political leader said to me yesterday that a proof of the incompetence of the police was that they had not foreseen the armed rising in December, whereas every one else had foreseen it. “And now,” he said, “they have been, so to speak, let loose on the paths of repression; old papers and old cases, sometimes of forty years ago, are raked up, and people are arrested for no reason except that the old machine, which is broken and thoroughly out of order, has been set working with renewed energy.” The following conversation is related to me—if it is not true (and I am convinced that it is not true) it is typical—as having taken place between a Minister and his subordinate:—