an journalism carry with them
more weight than they would otherwise do--a result materially aided by
the decay of the censorship, the worst and meanest legacy of Russia's
dark ages, which has lately had a chance of showing itself as absurd as
it is hateful under the congenial guidance of General Schidlovski. The
rulers of the empire have begun to perceive that it is hardly worth
while to hire men at exorbitant prices to deface articles which they
cannot read and condemn books which they cannot understand; and the
common sense of Russia has long since revolted against a system which is
still as uselessly and childishly vexatious as when pilloried in
imperishable language a century ago by Beaumarchais.

This is a great deal, but it is not enough. Like many other native
institutions, Russian journalism is merely a fine fragment. Russia has a
multitude of ships, but no navy; a number of ministers, but no
government; a host of journals, but no press. The Russian daily papers
(with the exception of an occasional "double edition" on the part of the
_Bourse Gazette_) consist of a single broadsheet, the large type of
which reduces its contents to a minimum. Fully one-half of this limited
space is usually occupied with advertisements and official
announcements, while even the few remaining columns are often deplorably
misused. One detestable custom, originally borrowed from France, is that
of "padding" a journal with tenth-rate novels, pointless anecdotes and
would-be humorous _feuilletons_, such as the weakest "comic annual"
would decline without thanks. Another failing of Russian journalism is
its fondness for the _tu-quoque_ style of argument, retorting every
mention of Poland by an allusion to Ireland. But, despite all this,
there is much hope for the future of Russian journalism. It is no slight
gain that, in a country which has long been regarded as the very
incarnation of truth-stifling despotism, any journal should be found to
speak as the _Golos_ recently spoke on the question of Russia's naval
forces: "The Crimean war, which tried so severely the qualities of our
army, cannot be said to have tested those of our fleet, inasmuch as it
never gave itself a chance of being tested. At the first approach of the
enemy it hastened to shelter itself behind the forts of Cronstadt,
whence it never emerged till the close of the war. Now, if the sole use
of the navy upon which we yearly expend millions of roubles be to shrink
out of