s about
life should receive a peculiar welcome in Russia, where a gloomy
pessimism has obtained the preponderance in literature. Gorki's
conception of life is expressed in the words of the engine-driver Nil,
in "The Bezemenovs" . . . a sympathetic figure, even if he be something
of a braggart. Nil, who is almost the only cheerful and courageous man
amid a handful of weaklings and degenerates, says:

"I know that Life is hard, that at times it seems impossibly harsh and
cruel, and I loathe this order of things. I know that Life is a
serious business, even if we have not got it fully organised, and that
I must put forth all my power and capacity in order to bring about this
organisation. And I shall endeavour with all the forces of my soul to
be steadfast to my inward promptings: to push my way into the densest
parts of life, to knead it hither and thither, to hinder some, to help
on others. It is _this_ that is the joy of life!" . . .

[Illustration: Love-scene between Polja and Nil (_Act III. of "The
Bezemenovs"_)]

Words like these were bound to have a stimulating and invigorating
effect after the despondency of the preceding epoch. This new spirit,
this new man, gripped his contemporaries in full force.

The result would undoubtedly have been even more striking if Gorki's
heroes were not invariably tainted with vestiges of the old order.
They are, indeed, men of action. A totally different life pulsates in
Gorki's works; we are confronted with far more virile characters than
in the works of other Russian authors. Even the engine driver Nil,
however, fails to relieve any one of the sufferers from his troubles.
He removes Polja confidently enough from her surroundings--but only
leaves the greater darkness behind him. Even he is as yet unable to
transform the conditions of life--and he is therefore stigmatised by a
little of the Russian bluster.

"The House of the Bezemenovs" ("The Tradespeople"), Gorki's first
dramatic work, describes the eternal conflict between sons and fathers.
The narrow limitations of Russian commercial life, its _borne_
arrogance, its weakness and pettiness, are painted in grim, grey
touches. The children of the tradesman Bezemenov may pine for other
shores, where more kindly flowers bloom and scent the air. But they
are not strong enough to emancipate themselves. The daughter tries to
poison herself because her foster brother, the engine-driver Nil, has
jilted her. But when t