Moreover, there is in Russia no eternally impassable barrier of caste, but there is a genuine democracy which is not easy to define, but is very easily felt. For instance, the title of "Prince," (to which, unlike that of "Count" or "Baron"--conferrable--one must be born, runs the rule, with exceptions for such national heroes as Suvaroff,) counts for nothing or approximately that, unless its owner possesses, in addition, the wealth, character, learning or other characteristics which would render him a man of mark without it.
There are other interesting instances of peasants who have risen high in Russia, and Mr. Tchelisheff is their worthy successor. The founder of the great silversmiths' firm of Ovtchinnikoff was a serf. His successors have made it their rule, "out of gratitude to God," to maintain and educate a certain number of poor boys, who, when their intellectual and technical training is completed, are free to remain with the firm as valued artists or to go forth independently. When the Emperor Alexander II. celebrated the twenty-fifth anniversary of his accession to the throne, all the Sovereigns of Europe sent him magnificent presents. These are assembled in his library, at the Winter Palace, Petrograd; and in the centre--accorded that place by the Russians with equal good feeling, good taste, and justice--is a large group in solid silver, representing a huge mass of rock upon whose pinnacles stand figures representing the different parts of the empire--Little Russia, Siberia, and so forth. The inscription reads: "To the Tzar-Liberator from the Liberated Serf." It was made by the Ovtchinnikoffs and presented by another ex-serf, who had become a millionaire railway magnate.
Mustard Seed No. 2 from America to Russia falls into a somewhat different category. It more nearly resembles one of those grains of antique wheat found in a tomb and sprouting vigorously when finally planted in congenial, helpful soil. I trust that my comparison may not be regarded as disrespectful. One could not, willingly, be disrespectful to the calendar, any more than to the thermometer!
Russia, by adhering to the Julian Calendar and refusing to adopt the Gregorian, has now fallen thirteen days behind the rest of the world. It falls behind about a day for every century. There are several reasons why Russia has not, up to now, remedied the serious inconvenience caused by this conflict of dates. One is--the Gregorian Calendar is Roman Catholic, and named after a Pope. It is, also, inaccurate. Worst of all, the rectification might--almost infallibly would, under ordinary circumstances--cause trouble at the outset, especially in one incalculably important direction.