EECOLLECTIONS OF POBEDONOSTZEFF 1892-1894 61 



simple and, as a rule, pious ; rarely failing to make the 

 sign of the cross on passing a church or shrine, or at any 

 other moment which seems to them solemn. They are pos 

 sibly picturesque, but certainly dirty, in their clothing 

 and in all their surroundings. A conveyance more 

 wretched than the ordinary street-droshky of a Russian 

 city could hardly be conceived, and measures had been 

 proposed for improving this system ; but he could see no 

 use in them. The existing system was thoroughly Russian, 

 and that was enough. It appealed to his conservatism. 

 The droshky-drivers, with their Russian caps, their long 

 hair and beards, their picturesque caftans, and their def 

 erential demeanor, satisfied his esthetic sense. 



What seemed to me a clash between his orthodox con 

 servatism on one side, and his Russian pride on the other, 

 I discovered on my return from a visit to Moscow, in 

 which I had sundry walks and talks with Tolstoi. On my 

 alluding to this, he showed some interest. It was clear 

 that he was separated by a whole orb of thought from the 

 great novelist, yet it was none the less evident that he took 

 pride in him. He naturally considered Tolstoi as hope 

 lessly wrong in all his fundamental ideas, and yet was 

 himself too much of a man of letters not to recognize in 

 his brilliant countryman one of the glories of Russia. 



But the most curious indeed, the most amazing reve 

 lation of the man I found in his love for American liter 

 ature. He is a wide reader; and, in the whole breadth 

 of his reading, American authors were evidently among 

 those he preferred. Of these his favorites were Haw 

 thorne, Lowell, and, above all, Emerson. Curious, indeed, 

 was it to learn that this &quot; arch-persecutor, &amp;gt; this &quot;Torque- 

 mada of the nineteenth century, this man whose hand is 

 especially heavy upon Catholics and Protestants and dis 

 senters throughout the empire, whose name is spoken with 

 abhorrence by millions within the empire and without it, 

 still reads, as his favorite author, the philosopher of Con 

 cord. He told me that the first book which he ever trans 

 lated into Russian was Thomas a Kempis s &quot;Imitation 



