RUSSIA’S REVOLT

By The Countess Torby (Wife of the Grand Duke Michael of Russia)

The ancient Greeks, whom even we the wise, experienced civilised beings of the 20th century, as we consider ourselves, are ready to quote and to admire, were no fools, and “Know thyself ” was one of their maxims they advised their contemporaries to live up to. Easy and simple as these two little words seem, how difficult, they must be to assimilate. To know and understand yourself before you venture out on psychological researches into the souls of your friends and neighbours seems a useful and practical necessity, but there lies the stumbling-block over which we find the wisest statesmen, politicians, and would-be world redeemers tripping. “Know thyself ” we would like to shout in stentorian tones to those excellent men who, with genuine patriotism – God forbid that I should doubt it! – left the pulpit of their lectures, left their Zemstvos, where they had rendered invaluable services to a distressed Fatherland, and left, last, but not least, the boiling samovars whose fumes had blended for many years with the rhetoric of deep thinkers and philosophers. Russia the great and mighty Empire, beloved by all her sons, high and low, rich and poor; Russia the Colossus, beloved with frenzied fanaticism, the dread of the wily and rapacious neighbour, was in danger. Armageddon had played havoc amongst the ranks of her brave sons, was calling for victims without end, was laying bare her soil; the whole mighty structure, built up by centuries of struggles and toil, was crumbling to pieces. Those at the helm seemed helpless even to stem the avalanche of perfidious slander, of calumny, and abuse that did not flinch from tarnishing the ermine of the mighty.