tiful that they cause a
throb of pain. But, as is almost inevitable under the circumstances,
most of his stories have an element of coarseness, which sometimes
repels.

In general, his subject is "the uneasy man," who is striving after
absolute freedom, after light and a lofty ideal, of which he can
perceive the existence somewhere, though with all his efforts he cannot
grasp it. We may assume that in this they represent Gorky himself. But
although all his heroes are seeking the meaning of life, no two of them
are alike. His characters, like his landscapes, grip the heart, and once
known, leave an ineffaceable imprint. Although he propounds problems of
life among various classes, he differs from the majority of people, in
not regarding a full stomach as the panacea for the poor man. On the
contrary (as in "Foma Gordyeeff," his most ambitious effort), he seems
to regard precisely this as the cause of more ruin than the life of "the
barefoot brigade," the tramps and stepchildren of Dame Fortune, with
whom he principally deals. His motto seems to be "Man shall not live by
bread alone." And because Gorky bears this thought ever with him, in
brain and heart, in nerves and his very marrow, his work possesses a
strength which is almost terrifying, combined with a beauty as
terrifying in its way. If he will but develop his immense genius instead
of meddling with social and political questions, and getting into prison
on that score with disheartening regularity, something incalculably
great may be the outcome. It is said that he is now banished in polite
exile to the Crimea. If he can be kept there or elsewhere out of
mischief, the Russian government will again render the literature of its
own country and of the world as great a service as it has already more
than once rendered in the past, by similar means.

In the '70's and '80's Russian society was seized with a mania for
writing poetry, and a countless throng of young poets made their
appearance. No book sold so rapidly as a volume of verses. But very few
of these aspirants to fame possessed any originality or serious worth.
Poetry had advanced not a single step since the days of Nekrasoff and
Shevtchenko, so far as national independence was concerned.

The most talented of the young poets of this period was Semen
Yakovlevitch Nadson (1862-1887). His grandfather, a Jew who had joined
the Russian Church, lived in Kieff. His father, a gifted man and a fine
musician, died yo