Ostaken, who took the Russian name of Vostokoff, was the author of Slavonic Philology.
Dr. Haas—whom the people always call "our Saintly Doctor."
Then there were Barklay de Tolly, Todleben, and many others—who will always live in our history, and ought to be remembered with admiration and gratitude.
Thackeray said that three generations were needed to make a gentleman. But, surely, three centuries of honest allegiance to a country are required to make a trustworthy subject.
The present war will undoubtedly bring in its train many reforms and changes in the most varied directions. Among these, it is imperative to look very seriously into the question of necessary and unnecessary expenses, and of luxury in both its good and its bad sense. That there is a clearly-defined dividing line between the two, is an obvious truth, an indisputable truism. Russia, as well as other countries, will, for a long time after the war, be obliged to exercise economy of the severest order. Self-defence will be necessary even when the clash of arms and the thunder of the guns have ceased. Great and inevitable problems face us wherever we turn. We need more churches, general education, new roads, and the development of all the latent natural wealth of our country.
All this is as important as our daily bread, without which there can be no life.
Yes, it is indeed a fact that well organised economy spells great and mighty results. Unfortunately, we cannot hide from ourselves the truth that large sums of money are constantly being spent on needless and foolish vanities. There comes to my mind a conversation that took place many years ago, during one of my visits to Moscow. The subject under discussion was connected with the buttons and gold braid on our military uniforms. Their arrangement was to be altered, and something added or taken away, I forget which. I listened for some time in silence, and then remarked with a smile that the whole thing reminded me of some typical discussion among Gogol's "fair ladies." "But you are mistaken," answered one of the Moscow experts seriously, "this is a matter that has to be examined very carefully. Do you realise that the simplest change, the taking away or adding of one button or one inch of braid represents an enormous sum of money? When one is dealing with an army and a navy numbering millions, every extra thread deserves consideration. One must keep most careful accounts and weigh every detail conscientiously!"
Unfortunately, this is all too often left undone. Gogol's ladies disputed about "frocks and frills"; in our case the matter under discussion concerns our national income, of which we need every penny, and which it is incumbent on us not to waste. I repeat, we need, for instance, more churches. Have you ever been to the St. Isaac's Cathedral in Petrograd at Easter? Even such huge places of worship as this, or as the Kazan Cathedral, cannot accommodate half of the throngs waiting and thirsting for prayer.
I myself have often stood waiting for two hours among the crowd in the street unable to force my way through into the church.
But in addition to churches, we need general education. We must have more schools and universities, more roads, more libraries, more books. All this is anything but on a line with the "frocks and frills" of Gogol's ladies—no, we are discussing the welfare of Russia, and that is for us no trifling matter. Every insignificant change in connection with buttons or trimming affects the budget of our Empire—how much more then could be saved by giving up all the needless splendour and extravagance of our magnificent uniforms?