Less horrifying, but equally aiming at disintegration, was Nicholas's
scheme of colonization. What better means was there for "diminishing the
number of Jews" than to scatter them over the wilderness of Russia and
leave them to shift for themselves? This, of course, was necessarily a
slow process and one involving some expense, but it was fraught with
great importance not only for the Russian Church, but for Russian trade
and agriculture as well.

"Back to the soil!" Was not this the cry of the romantic Maskilim in
Germany, in Galicia, and particularly in Russia? And have not country
life and field labor been depicted by them in the most glowing colors?
Here was an opportunity to save the honor of the Jewish name and also
ameliorate the material condition of the Russian Jews. The permission
given to them by Alexander I to establish themselves as farmers in the
frigid yet free Siberian steppes was greeted with enthusiasm by all.
Nicholas's ukase was hailed with joy. Elias Mitauer and Meyer
Mendelssohn, at the head of seventy families from Courland, were the
first to migrate to the new region (1836), and they were followed by
hundreds more. Indeed, the exodus assumed such proportions that the
Christians in the parts of the country abandoned by the colonists
complained of the decline in business and the depreciation of property.
The movement was heartily approved by the rabbis; the populace, its
imagination stimulated, began to dream dreams and see visions of
brighter days, and all gave vent to their hopefulness in songs of
gladness and gratitude, in strains like these:[37]

Who lives so free
As the farmer on his land?
His farm his companion is,