We have said that the lack of will in the Russian nature is at the root
of Russian virtues and vices, and in this connection it is curious to
remark that a race's soul seems often to grow out of the race's
_aspiration towards what it is not in life_. Is not the French
intellect, for example, so cool, clear-headed, so delicately analytic of
its own motives, that through the principle of _counterpoise_ it strives
to lose itself and release itself in continual rhetoric and emotional
positions? Is not the German mind so alive to the material facts of
life, to the necessity of getting hold of concrete advantages in life,
and of not letting them go, that it deliberately slackens the bent bow,
and plunges itself and relaxes itself in floods of abstractions, and
idealisations, and dreams of sentimentality? Assuredly it is because the
Russian is so inwardly discontented with his own actions that he is such
a keen and incisive critic of everything _false_ and exaggerated, that
he despises all French rhetoric and German sentimentalism. And in this
sense it is that the Russian's lack of will comes in to deepen his soul.
He surrenders himself thereby to the universe, and, as do the Asiatics,
does not let the tiny shadow of his fate, dark though it may be, shut
out the universe so thoroughly from his consciousness, as does the
aggressive struggling will-power of the Western man striving to let his
individuality have full play. The Russian's attitude may indeed be
compared to a bowl which catches and sustains what life brings it; and
the Western man's to a bowl inverted to ward off what drops from the
impassive skies. The mental attitude of the Russian peasant indeed
implies that in blood he is nearer akin to the Asiatics than Russian
ethnologists have wished to allow. Certainly in the inner life of
thought, intellectually, morally, and emotionally, he is a half-way
house between the Western and Eastern races, just as geographically he
spreads over the two continents. By natural law his destiny calls him