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related the following little trait of Muscovite enthusiasm:
“At the time when the university for women was in
existence, I went, one forenoon, into the hall where I had
lectured the evening before. I was going to have some
changes made in the arrangement of the chairs. I was
sitting alone in the hall, and waiting, when a door was
half opened and a young girl looked in and withdrew
smiling. A few moments later a hundred young girls
came quickly in through the door, all in black woollen
dresses, formed a circle around me, and began to clap
their hands. Then one of them, the daughter of a
celebrated deceased poet, said a few words to me, and they
clapped again. I believe it is the pleasantest impression
of my journey.”
Every one who knows how to see will discover similar
little traits of surprising warmth and simplicity, during a
trip in Russia. It is, possibly, this receptiveness, this
prodigality of nature, this inexhaustible richness of the
material life, which makes the greatest attraction of
Russia, and which betokens its future more decided
originality.
Black land, fertile land, new land, grain-land, — that
is its constitution. The broadly constituted, open, rich,
warm nature,—that is Russia’s. And when you are
turning over these qualities: the unlimited extended, that
which fills the mind with melancholy and hope, the
impenetrable, darkly mysterious, the womb of new realities
and new mysticism, all these which are Russia’s,—then
it strikes one that they suit the future almost as well,
and the question presses itself upon us whether, when
we are striving to penetrate the secrets of this land, we
are not gazing into the very future of Europe.
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