But two centuries before the Tartars came, the ancient Russia of Kiev was a scene of blood and rapine, plunged in that state of warfare which was to last till the very threshold of the modern epoch was reached, and which was in itself a deteriorating agent. Ferocity is the very essence of war. It has its own laws, which contravene every code and every gospel, and it excludes all honesty. In war, cunning is a merit, and violence a virtue. In this land, where anarchy reigned for centuries, it was not the Tartars who replaced the phenomenon known in Western Europe as 'chivalry' by another, which, though certainly not its equivalent, was, historically speaking, co-incident with it—'brigandage'—a brigandage enshrined in legend, sung by the national bards, personified by the popular heroes. In one of the bylines, which brings Ivan IV. upon the scene, we find a robber tale which is a specimen of the ideas elaborated under the influence of these peculiar historical precedents. A young man, haled before the justice-seat, is subjected to the praviéje. The Sovereign passes by, and inquires into the matter. It concerns a theft of treasure by the culprit. The young man gives his explanation. The treasure had been in the hands of a robber band. The bold fellow had fallen upon it, laid hands on the booty, and then gone from tavern to tavern, sharing his plunder with all the vagabonds in the country. The Sovereign does not hesitate: the hero of the adventure deserves not punishment, but reward, for his bravery and open-handedness. The judges are commanded to make him large amends, and all the people rejoice with him.
The attitude of mind here exemplified is not the specific characteristic of any Asiatic or European race, but the accidental result of a certainly abnormal evolution, during a transition period of development.
During the sixteenth century, under the coating, very superficial, as we have already seen it to be, of the Mongol alluvion, the strongest visible mark on Muscovite habits is that left by the nearest, the Byzantine, East. But this influence, just at that moment, was giving rise to fierce reaction. Under the excessive weight and pressure of the ascetic yoke, Nature, physical and moral, was revolting and rebelling, breaking her bonds, casting them off, and rushing, under the reflex action of unbridled instincts, into wild flights in a quite opposite direction—extravagant debauchery, monstrous vices, the oblivion of all modesty even amongst the women, once they contrived to break down the barriers of the terem. These phenomena naturally stand out against the ordinary background of social and domestic life. They strike the attention of observers, and thus elicit severe judgments, which should be
