The same morality that applies in private life never has and probably never will apply to Governments, and to expect perfection in relation to the treatment of prisoners in Siberia, or of Chinese labour in South Africa, is out of the question.
I cannot do better than quote here what I said in my introduction to Siberia As It Is, by Harry de Windt:
"To form a proper opinion of the Russian prisons, it is necessary to possess, what English people certainly do not possess, some knowledge of the ordinary conditions of life in our country. A preface to any book on Russia ought, in fact, to be somewhat of an introduction into the penetralia of our innermost existence. But in giving real facts about our country, I have the feeling of printing advertisements about ourselves—to us Russians a very antipathetic work indeed.
"Russia is, over a great extent, a land of stoicism, fortified by Christianity—not a bad basis for the formation of character, after all, but it is a hard school. Our country life is an important study. It is full of self-denial, of hardships, of privations. Indeed, in some parts peasant life is so hard that we, the so-called upper classes, could scarcely endure it.
"Landed proprietors are generally in close intercourse with their ex-serfs. The latter, though now perfectly free and themselves landowners, from the fact that their former masters have at heart their welfare, naïvely think that the latter are still under obligation to furnish help when needed. This somewhat amusing relationship is generally accepted good-naturedly by the ex-masters, though very often it involves great material sacrifices. We could all give our personal experiences of village life, and I, for one, venture to do so, though there are many others better qualified.
"To visit the sick and the poor is a common duty recognised by a great many in our country, although the discharge of this duty sometimes is rather an ordeal. How overcrowded and dark are their dwellings! How poor their daily food! (The only approach to the condition that I know of in the United Kingdom is in the poverty-stricken districts of Ireland and in some corners of the East End of London.) Yet those who lead that rough life seem strong and happy, on the whole. They will make merry jokes, and after a long day's heavy work, from sunrise to sunset, return home from the fields, singing and dancing.
"Injudicious and indiscriminate charity would do harm here as elsewhere. In illustration of this, I will mention the following from my own experience:
"My son, when appointed Zemski Natchalnik (Zemski chief), built a church over his father's grave and founded two schools for training male and female teachers on our Tamboff estate.
"The principal local representatives of the Church and the chiefs of our local school inspectors were invited to discuss the programme of the teaching and management of these schools—one for boarders, future primary school teachers, with a class for daily pupils of the parish. They used to be almost free of charge before the emancipation of the serfs. So were both my son's schools. But now—since they depend on the Holy Synod—education has to be paid for. The yearly Seminarian's fee for board, dress and education is £10 yearly. The girls' (future school mistresses) fee is £8—but they will soon be increased. All our schools for the people are, and have always been, free of charge.
"The educational scheme met with almost unanimous approval, but when the boarding arrangements came to be discussed, with suggestions about 'light mattresses and pillows,' they were met by a general outburst of disapproval.