books condemned by them. Endless wagonloads of these confiscated books
could be seen moving towards Vilna and Kiev, and for many years
afterwards the literature of the "People of the Book," covering a period
of three milleniums, was still languishing in the gaol of censorship,
waiting to be saved from or to be sentenced to a fiery death by a
Russian official.

It is almost unnecessary to add that the primitive method of solving the
Jewish problem by means of conversion, was still the guiding principle
of the Government. The Russian legislation of that period teems with
regulations concerning apostasy. The surrender of the Synagogue to the
Church seemed merely a question of time. In reality, however, the
Government itself believed but half-heartedly in the sincerity of the
converted Jews. In 1827 the Tzar put down in his own handwriting the
following resolution: "It is to be strictly observed that the baptismal
ceremony shall take place unconditionally on a Sunday, and with all
possible publicity, so as to remove all suspicion of a pretended
adoption of Christianity." Subsequently, this watchfulness had to be
relaxed in the case of those "who avoid publicity in adopting
Christianity," more especially in the case of the cantonists, "who have
declared their willingness to embrace the orthodox faith"--under the
effect, we may add, of the tortures in the barracks. Sincerity under
these circumstances was out of the question, and, in 1831, the battalion
chaplains were authorized to baptize these helpless creatures, even
"without applying for permission to the ecclesiastical authorities."

The barrack missionaries were frequently successful among these
unfortunate military prisoners. In the imperial rescripts of that period
the characteristic expression "privates from among the Jews _remaining
in the above faith_" figures as a standing designation for that group of