They left the mayor’s residence, and crossed the street to the schoolhouse.
“I must tell you in advance,” observed Rasumowski, “that in Russia we do not cultivate a fancy for popular education. Our peasants are only entitled to be taught three things: to obey, to work, and to pay taxes. In this consists their knowledge; it is the axis around which revolves our national education.”
He opened the school door. About one hundred children, dirty and poorly clad, sat upon the benches. The schoolmaster, who had already espied the arrival of the governor, bowed in fear and trembling.
“How is it with the children of the emperor, teacher? Do you fulfil your duty in obedience to my orders?”
“I endeavor to do so, your honor.”
“I shall convince myself, and ask some questions from the catechism of our state religion,” said the governor.
He called up several children, and began to question them, which questions were as remarkable and as interesting to the professor as were the answers.
“Who is your sovereign lord?”
“The good emperor of holy Russia.”