had serious
quarrels with his son. Griboyedov's mother threw herself at her
son's feet and begged him not to write any more but rather to enter
the service of the State. In Griboyedov we have a sad example of a
great talent virtually buried alive by the censor. His comedy,
"Intelligence Comes to Grief," is a masterful work, sparkling with
satiric warmth, the equal of which it would be hard to find
anywhere. This first work, rich in promise, was never published nor
produced. Discouraged, the author renounced literature, and on the
advice of his mother, accepted a position as ambassador to Persia,
where he was killed in a riot.

* * * * *

Not only does the censorship mutilate literary works, but it often
suffocates the inspiration of the author. The Russian press has
lately published a very interesting article on Nekrasov, explaining
the frequent interruptions of his activity by a momentary paralysis
of his inspiration. Often, he writes, the ideas and poetic forms
which come to his mind are so strong that he need only take up his
pen and write them down. But the thought that what he might write
would be condemned by the censor, stops him. It was, then, a long
struggle between the ideas which he wanted to express and the
obstacles which hindered him. And when finally Nekrasov had
smothered his inspiration, he was broken down and crushed by fatigue
and disgust, and for a long time he stopped writing. His friends
advised him to jot down his ideas in spite of all, in the hope that
they would be recognized by future generations when happier days
should dawn on literature. He was not successful, because in order
to create his genius needed to feel a close bond between him and his
readers. Thus the censor carried his brutal hand into the very
laboratory of thought.

Happily, since the movement toward reform between 1860 and 1870, the
Russian censor has become more lenient and now no one says what was
once said to the writer Bulgarin: "Your business is to describe
public activities, popular holidays, the theatre. Do not look for
other topics." The number of subjects open to the press has
increased. But the desire to live a free life has developed in
literature and in society alike, and as resistance to it has also
strengthened, the pressure has remained relatively the same. The
censor and the police continue to stifle the natural richness and
the power of the Russian mind. To-day, as before, R