blind and the lame, the old women and the little children. Your size is not
big enough to match the Germans; they will at the first blow throw you on
your back (this remark is wonderfully prophetic). And Russia, do you know
what that is, you cracked head? Six hundred thousand longbeards have been
enlisted, besides 300 thousand soldiers with bare chins, and 200 thousand
veterans. All these are heroes; they believe in one God, obey one Tzar,
make the sign with one cross, these are all brethren. And if it pleases our
father and Tzar, Alexander Pavlovitch, he has to say only one word: To arms,
Christians! And you will see them rising. And even if you should beat the
vanguard? Take your ease! the others will give you such a chase that the
memory of it will remain in all eternity. To come to us! well then! Not
only the tower of Ivan the Great, but also the hill of Prosternations will
remain invisible to you even in your dream. We shall rely on white Russia
and we shall bury you in Poland. As one makes his bed so one sleeps. On
this account reflect, do not proceed, do not start the dance. Turn about
face, go home, and from generation to generation remember what it is, the
Russian nation. Having said all, Tchikhirine went on, briskly singing, and
the people who saw him go said wherever he came, that is well spoken, it is
the truth!"

Rostopchine knew very well how to make Tchikhirine speak when he had been
drinking more than usual, he knew how to make the saints speak, he invented
pious legends which were not guaranteed by the Holy Synod and not found in
the Lives of the Saints.

"After the battle of Borodino," said he in his memoirs, "I ceased to have
recourse to little means to distract the people and occupy their attention.
It required an extraordinary effort of the imagination to invent something
that would excite the people. The most ingenious attempts do not always
succeed, while the clumsy ones take a surprising effect. Among those of the