to be done. What were factories or the culture of the west to
him in later years--Shakespeare or no Shakespeare? Destructive
ideals of life. Competition, money and land greed,
self-assertion--all things that are the anthitheses of
Slavophilism--he shunned; mocking the palsied heart and
poisoned ideals of the west, and indeed of the "upper class"
section of his own land as no other Slavophile did. And
following its teaching, he journeyed through self-renunciation
to freedom and communal life, after repentance for his
wanderings, expiation and regeneration.

Dostoievsky, on the other hand, reached this philosophy largely
by being born to it among the humble people who lived it.
Melancholy-minded by nature--a sort of a Russian Dante but
living in actual infernos and purgatorios, Siberia and prison
cells, he came at last to worship his fellow countrymen and
their ideals as almost nothing else in heaven or earth, and
bowed down before them "as the only remnant left of Christian
humility, destined by Providence to regenerate the world." Here
is Slavophilism in a fervid extreme. "The Down-trodden and
Offended," "Memoirs of a Dead House," "Crime and Punishment,"
"Poor People,"--these, the titles of his novels, show the
predilections of his own soul. He died in the mystic frenzy of
this enthusiasm.

Here then, in this philosophy and in the lives of these men, is
something of the soul of Russia, beautiful in its humility, yet
not so humble that it is not ambitious to embrace the world in
the folding arms of its peace, its communal government and its
morality. Pan-Slavism of this nature is the only kind that in