Russian Service at the Atbazar Mine. (See page 178.)Russian Service at the Atbazar Mine. (See page178.)
We find it, therefore, as we should expect to do, in Russia; and more general, perhaps, and more acute than at any other previous time, just before the war was declared. This, it may be remembered, is stated to have been one of the reasons why the curt and hurried ultimatum was presented at Petrograd, where it was thought that social troubles and dangers were so serious that it would be impossible for the government even to think of going to war. We have been told,[12]though it was probably not known outside Russia at that time, what a good turn Germany really did to the Russian government and the Russian peopleby turning their thoughts from their own grave difficulties to the dangers which threatened them from without. At that time, we are assured, not only Petrograd, but every big manufacturing district of Russia, was shaking with revolt of a peculiar kind, and civil war on the point of breaking out. In Petrograd there were barricades already erected, at least 120,000 were on strike, tramcars had been broken up, attacks upon the police had taken place, factories were garrisoned in expectation of attack, the Cossacks were everywhere—openly in the streets, hidden away in places most threatened. The police arrested those who were supposed to be leaders, but it made no difference, for the people needed no leading. They were all so thoroughly in the movement. Indeed, we are told, “things seemed to the Russian government to be as bad as they could very well be; and orders were actually given for the severest possible repressive measures, which would, perhaps, have involved a large-scale battle, probably a massacre, and certainly a state of war in the capital.” It would have been “Red Sunday” over again, only this time infinitely and more ominously worse. A great calamity was narrowly escaped.
Now there is this to be noticed about thisRussian upheaval, and this social bitterness and discontent expressing itself in the way with which we are only too sadly familiar, and which claims our attention as being so entirely different from similar movements of our own. The Russian workers made no demands, had no special grievances nor complaints which they wished to make known. In all strikes one has previously heard of there has been some hardship or injustice to bring forward, some claim or request to urge. Here there was nothing of the kind. “They were not on strike,” we are told, “for higher wages. In no single case did the men make a demand from their masters. In no single case had a man gone on strike because of a grievance which his master could put right. No concessions by the masters could have brought the men back to work. The only answer they returned when asked why there was a strike was that they were dissatisfied with their lives, and that they intended to disorganize the State until these things were altered.” It is clear, therefore, that the social unrest, and the activity which has so long resulted from it, have not a very definite aim as yet. Hence the Nihilist. He is dissatisfied, embittered, smarting under a sense of wrong; and while he does not see how he can put things right, feels that hemust do something, and so destroys. “That at least will be something,” he feels, “then we can begin again.”
This, we can further see, will be the youthfulstudent’sview if dissatisfied and discontented, and without either experience or constructive and practical knowledge to suggest how the wrong may be put right. Some of us, therefore, think that Russia’s greatest social danger arises from thestudentpart of her population, and that her great problem—a vital one for her to solve, and soon—is how to deal fairly and wisely with them, and, caring for them as paternally as she does for her peasant population, incorporate them fully and intimately into her national life.
It is from the educated classes that social unrest and discontent have proceeded in Russia, and from them that those agents have come who have spread wild and daring dreams of change and revolution amongst the working classes of the towns, and, although that has not been so successful, amongst the peasantry also.
To some extent their socialistic ideas have been echoes from Western Europe. I remember being told, when I first went to Petrograd, “We usually have your bad weather here about eight or ten days after you, only we have it worse.”It would seem that the rule holds good in other ways also, for Sir Donald Mackenzie Wallace tells us, in one of his three deeply interesting chapters on social difficulties in Russia, that during the last two centuries all the important intellectual movements in Western Europe have been reflected in Russia, and that these reflections have generally been what may fairly be called exaggerated and distorted reflections of the earlier socialistic movements of the West, but with local peculiarities and local colouring which deserve attention.
He goes on to explain how the educated classes, absorbing these ideas from abroad, just as ideas, and not as relating to the conditions of life in Russia as closely as in England, France, and Germany, from which they came, have quite naturally been less practical in the conclusions they have drawn from them, if indeed they have pushed their ideas to any conclusion at all. We are shown plainly by this lucid and well-informed writer how natural it has been for Western Socialists to be constructive and definite in their aims, while Russians could only be destructive. Nihilism is made clear, and we understand its origin, while we can equally well understand what we are so reassuringly told about its present decline. This does not imply necessarily thatRussian thinkers and workers are becoming less socialistic in sympathy and aims, but more practical; and that they are learning, just as the West has taught them, that the only way in which they can hope to advance their own views is to use all the legal means which their government, as it becomes ever more democratic and constitutional, will increasingly give them.
But amongst all the different classes who may be called educated, the university students of both sexes form the class which most claims our sympathies, and constitutes, I consider, Russia’s gravest problem. There are ten universities in the empire, only one of which contains less than 1,300 students, while the leading ones far exceed this number—Moscow having just under 10,000, and Petrograd about 8,500. We can hardly realize what such numbers mean for the national life, when over 40,000 men and women are receiving university education and being prepared for professional careers. Over 15,000 are studying law, nearly 10,000 are receiving a scientific education before taking up work as chemists, engineers, etc., another 10,000 are studying medicine, comparatively few only being left for the teaching profession. There are only about a hundred divinity students.
In addition to these there are Russian studentsin all the universities of Europe. I have never been able to ascertain their actual numbers, but at Geneva, Lausanne, Berne, Leipzig, Berlin, and other great centres of education I have always been told, not only that they were there in no small numbers, but that they were the keenest and most attentive of all the students in the class, the first to come, and the last to leave, always in the front seats, and unflagging in their attention. They are evidently most eager to learn, and are turned out from all the universities of Europe and from their own, extremely well equipped and prepared for professional work. Then a vast number of students of this class are pitiably poor, straining every nerve, putting up with privations undreamed of elsewhere, in order to get through the preparation for their life’s work.
Many of them, great numbers of them indeed, must be miserably disappointed. Town and city life, upon which the professional classes must rely chiefly in seeking the means of gaining their livelihood, has not developed as yet in proportion to that of the agricultural population; and certainly at nothing like the rate which would be necessary if all those educated and trained at the universities were to be provided with careers and given an adequateopportunity. The supply is far, far greater than the demand.
Thus we have in Russia a large class of really competent, brainy, well qualified young graduates of both sexes, naturally longing to take their part in the life, work, and affairs of their country, urged on also by their poverty to seek and even demand it; and yet many, it seems to me sometimes that it must be far the greater number, must be unable to find it. Here obviously are all the materials for a real social danger; and students, therefore, always appear in stories of plots and conspiracies, always fill an important place in plays of the same kind, and are always to the fore in tumults and demonstrations. It must be so, for they are the one really embittered class, and to them it must seem sometimes that there can be no hope for them at all in the social order as it is, and that its only possibility for them lies in its being destroyed and reconstructed.
A Class of Russian Students with their Teachers.A Class of Russian Students with their Teachers.
In many of our centres of work abroad we have afoyerwhere the foreign students can meet, and at Geneva last year with great difficulty we had opened a hostel for Russian students when the war broke out. There one heard the most touching stories of their poverty, and yet of their pride and independence, and also of the specialtemptations to which their poverty exposed them. Some landlords, for instance, are not slow to tell girls that they would live better and more cheaply if they would temporarily “keep house” with one of the young men students, and occupy one room! Our hostel was hurried on last year as we heard of many instances of this kind, and a generous friend in Petrograd helped me very largely in finding the money. Everything was to be supplied at cost price, and no profits were to be made, the two English ladies in charge giving their services. There was a restaurant also which supplied good food at very moderate rates, and how moderate may be judged from the charge made for afternoon tea of a halfpenny! It consisted of a cup of tea and a small roll of bread without butter.
The first time I saw how cheaply the foreign students at Geneva lived was one festival evening when they invited me to supper, and when we had chicken salad with bread and butter followed by dessert, tea, and coffee, for which the charge was about fivepence each. The year after that I entertained them in return and gave them a Christmas party at which there were fourteen nationalities present, mainly Slav. Nothing could have been more interesting than that gathering, nor could any host have had moregrateful guests. Last year the Noel Fest could not be held as there were no students; but I hope next Christmas may possibly see the war over, and that we may have a Slav evening party in Geneva once again.
It may be well to mention here how there comes to be afoyeror club for Russians and other students at Geneva. It is a part of the organization connected with the World Student Christian Federation, which had its beginning in the eighties in the United States of America, as a movement to promote an interest in missionary work amongst students. In 1887 a deputation came over to this country to tell the student world what was going on across the Atlantic, and the student foreign missionary union was the result. Next the Christian Student Movement extended itself into all our European countries, and finally the World’s Federation was accomplished at Wadstena Castle in Sweden in 1895. It is directed by a committee consisting of two representatives from each national movement, with Mr. John R. Mott, so well known, as its general secretary. Its operations now extend into all the leading countries of the world. There is a biennial conference, and it is admitted that one of the most interesting of any yet held was the one at Constantinople in 1911,which was attended by patriarchs representing all the Orthodox Churches of the East. It is not an undenominational movement, but exactly the opposite—a call rather to all the Churches of the world to be consistent in their Christian profession and “walk worthy of the vocation wherewith they are called.” It is not a society nor a religious body, but a movement or union, and its basis, to be accepted by all its voluntary members and officers, is the declaration, “I desire, in joining this Union, to declare my faith inJesus Christas my Saviour, myLord, and myGod.” There is no reason why any Christian in the world should not join it. Roman Catholics, Orthodox, Anglicans, and members of other Churches the world over can have no possible difficulty in making such a simple declaration if there is any reality at all in their sense of membership inChrist’sChurch; and there is every reasonwhya Christian student should join a movement which is the only one of its kind to aim at work forChristin those places where it is most urgently and sorely needed, and where it is most likely to be truly fruitful—the universities and colleges of the world.
There we have to-day those who have to lead and guide and guard the course of the whole world to-morrow. It is in the universities ofthe world that some of those influences which are most hostile and inimical to true social well-being are first set in motion, and it is there most certainly that we must begin if we wish to see the world made better and won forGod. The war has made us long, I hope, for better things in a way the world has never dreamt of before, because there has never been anything in all history which has so focussed attention for the watching world upon a simple and direct question of right and wrong. The issue is even more momentous and significant than that. This great question of righteousness and unrighteousness must be answered by every one in the world according to his belief or unbelief. It is just a question for us all to settle whether our own interests, individual or national, or our duty toGodcomes first. The issue has never been more simply stated, and the Church ofChristhas never in all her history had such a magnificent opportunity of giving her message, and proclaiming her mission. I hope, therefore, that all my readers will take an early opportunity of learning all they can about the Christian Student Movement, and satisfy themselves as to its fitness for helping the whole Church ofChristto avail herself to the full of thisGod-given opportunity and possibility.
Afoyeris a necessary centre for students wherever a branch of the movement has been formed, and it would be difficult to speak too warmly of its value for its members. I have mentioned this movement here, briefly enough, I fear, of necessity, because I should think there is no place where it is more needed, nor, as far as I can judge, more likely to continue to succeed, than in Russia. In Petrograd there are already a number of influential and wealthy Russians deeply interested in its work amongst the men students. They include a near relation of the Emperor, and the work is directed by a number of extremely competent and earnest Americans. I had an opportunity of meeting and addressing them when in Petrograd a year ago.
The work amongst the girl and women students is being carried forward very quietly by our own country-women, who are full of hope. But up to the present a great deal of caution and wisdom has had to be exercised, both because the authorities have so long been accustomed to look suspiciously at anything which seemed to promote associations amongst students, and because students themselves, for reasons already given, have naturally looked askance at anything which was obviously working in the direction of law and order. The movement, more and more, it will beseen, is one of the soundest of modern efforts in the direction of real social improvement, because it begins at the right end, with those who are thinking and pondering life’s problems before launching out to try their best to solve them. Nowhere has it been more needed, as I have said, than in Russia, and nowhere has it made a better start. The hopeful thing about Russia just now is thatevery oneis most keenly and profoundly interested in the social well-being of the people—on the one hand anxious to obtain it more fully for themselves, and on the other really wishful to give and promote it, even if watchful and cautious lest they should make mistakes and have to draw back.
And surely caution is very necessary in Russia. It is only a little over fifty years since the emancipation of the serfs. Let any one think of Russia with a servile population so short a time ago, and then think of what she is to-day, and they will form some idea of the extraordinary social improvement and transformation which has taken place. Yet with all this caution the desire to see improvement is general, and no one is satisfied with the lives of the working-classes in the large towns as they are. It is well known indeed, as I have already said, that Russia has been absorbed in plans for social improvementfor the last few years, and was meaning to launch out into great undertakings this very year. Those plans are only deferred, we hope, and will be taken up with greater zest and confidence than ever when peace comes. Perhaps the delay will prove to have been an inestimable gain, if it has made it clearer than before that there are certain examples it might be well to avoid. A great deal has been said and written of late years of the vast superiority of German municipal government and organization, and certainly no cities in Europe approach those of Germany for attractiveness and excellence of arrangements as to streets, parks, public buildings, and imposing blocks of flats for private families of all classes. Germans have been for many years now animated by the very best spirit of municipal initiative and responsibility, and have shown a really worthy civic pride. Railway stations, post offices, walks, and squares in Germany are beyond comparison with those of any other country. And yet I am assured that much is sacrificed for effect and appearance; and I was astonished to hear, a little while ago, how miserably inadequate was the accommodation that even a skilled artisan in Berlin could afford to have.
A well-known social authority, Mr. T. C. Horsfall, writing in theSpectatorlast December,told us that there is terrible overcrowding in nearly all large German towns, and that the overcrowded tall blocks of buildings are themselves too closely crowded together, and the effect is bad both for health and morality. The death-rate, including that of infants, is much higher with them than with us. And I cannot help thinking that the effect of giving families only two rooms and a small scullery, one living-room and one bedroom for all, must have its effect upon the morality of a population. Whatever the cause, we are told that in Berlin 17 per cent. of the births are registered as illegitimate, in Munich as many as 28 per cent., in Vienna over 40 per cent., while in London they are only 5 per cent.
“The effect on German town populations,” Mr. Horsfall states, “especially on the poorer inhabitants of Berlin, of the conditions existing in German towns is described in an appeal made in or about the year 1886 by Professor Schmoller to his fellow-countrymen to deal adequately and promptly with those conditions. The appeal has been reprinted in an important Report published in 1911 by Dr. Werner Hegemann:
‘The circumstances are so terrible that one can only wonder that the consequences have not been even worse. Only because a large part of these poor people have broughtfrom their earlier life a store of good habits, of religious tradition, of decent feeling, into these dens, has the worst not yet been reached. But the children and young people who are now growing up in these holes must necessarily lose the virtues of economy, domesticity, family life, and all regard for law and property, decency, and good habits. He who has no proper dwelling, but only a sleeping-place, must fall a victim to the public-house and to drink.... The community to-day is forcing the lower strata of the factory proletariat of large towns by its dwelling conditions with absolute necessity to fall back to a level of barbarism and bestiality, of savagery and rowdiness, which our forefathers hundreds of years ago had left behind them. I maintain that there lies the greatest danger for our civilization.’”
‘The circumstances are so terrible that one can only wonder that the consequences have not been even worse. Only because a large part of these poor people have broughtfrom their earlier life a store of good habits, of religious tradition, of decent feeling, into these dens, has the worst not yet been reached. But the children and young people who are now growing up in these holes must necessarily lose the virtues of economy, domesticity, family life, and all regard for law and property, decency, and good habits. He who has no proper dwelling, but only a sleeping-place, must fall a victim to the public-house and to drink.... The community to-day is forcing the lower strata of the factory proletariat of large towns by its dwelling conditions with absolute necessity to fall back to a level of barbarism and bestiality, of savagery and rowdiness, which our forefathers hundreds of years ago had left behind them. I maintain that there lies the greatest danger for our civilization.’”
With such examples as this before her we must trust that Russia will set about promoting the social well-being of her people with all her characteristic independence, and determine that in their housing she will have only those “great spaces” which are her characteristic features in so many other ways. We have to tread this same road of social reform also when the war is over, and it is good to think that we may, perhaps, be able to take it, just as we have carried on the war, without any party questions or party spirit connected with it, as will be the case also in Russia. It is even more inspiring to think, again let me say it, that we and our new friend may tread this path together: comparing notes and making plans together as we go. That would be indeed anEntenteworth the name, when it was notin order that we might make war together, only that we had come to an agreement, but that we might help each other’s peoples in all the arts of peace. Mr. Baring tells us that he was once drinking tea with a Russian landowner who calls himself a moderate liberal, and when, in their conversation, the Anglo-Russian agreement was mentioned, he exclaimed (and I have no doubt he expressed the feelings of many others who desire the social good of Russia as he did so), “This is the most sensible thing the Russian government has done for the last forty years!”
The English Church of S. Andrew, at Moscow, with the Parsonage.The English Church of S. Andrew, at Moscow, with the Parsonage.
FOOTNOTES:[12]“Anglitchanin” inThe Contemporary Review, Nov., 1914.
[12]“Anglitchanin” inThe Contemporary Review, Nov., 1914.
[12]“Anglitchanin” inThe Contemporary Review, Nov., 1914.
I welcome the opportunity that this chapter affords me of defining the position taken by our Church in Russia, for it is just the same there as in Germany, France, Belgium, and the other countries in our jurisdiction. Many English Churchmen deprecate, while others strongly resent, our having clergy, churches, and services on the Continent of Europe at all. They consider it an interference with the Church of the country, schismatical in its character, and a hindrance and impediment to the reunion of Christendom. Some English clergy come, therefore, into the jurisdiction of North and Central Europe from their own parishes, and though their own Church may have its services there, ostentatiously attend the services of the Roman Catholic Church. Young men coming out for business, girls taking positions as nurses and governesses, and others coming for health and enjoyment, are sometimes advised by their clergy not to go near the English Church, butto attend Mass and “worship with the people of the country.”
What, I fancy, many of our brethren at home, clergy and laity alike, fail very often to realize is the great difference between a temporary and permanent residence abroad. Many of us know what it is to spend a holiday in some simple and beautiful village—in the Black Forest, for instance—amongst devout and good people, far away from one’s own Church, and where it is just as natural as anything can be, and completes the friendly feeling between us, to go to church on Sunday and worship with them. Even in an unfamiliar service we have our own Prayer Books, and can read Collect, Epistle, and Holy Gospel, and be in spirit and touch with our brethren worshipping in their own churches all over the world.
There is something to be said, therefore, for sharing the worship of the people of the place when passing through or making but a short stay, though, even in holiday resorts or “Sports centres,” the opportunities which our Church, chaplain, and services offer are too precious and important to be lost or undervalued. But there is nothing whatever to be said for leaving a community of our own countrymen, permanently resident in another land, withoutthe ministrations of their own Church, if they can possibly be supplied to them; and still less if, as in Russia and some other places, the people can find the means of support themselves.
Will any of our brethren seriously maintain that, when families have to leave this country and go to live on the Continent of Europe, they must leave their own Church and be received into the Roman or Greek Communion? Or, if not, will they consider that they ought to frequent the services of those Churches as outsiders, never having the experiences and helps afforded by the sacramental means of grace? It must be one or the other. If abroad we are not to attend the services of our own Church, then the only alternative is either to leave it altogether or to live the maimed spiritual life of those who are without the ministry of the Word and Sacraments.
And, moreover, if it is thought that one of the pressing duties of our time is to follow our brethren across the ocean to Canada, though even there the Roman Church claims to be the “Church of the country” in its French-speaking territory, and to give them the ministrations of religion, why are we not to follow them across the Channel, when they leave their country for precisely the same reason, to extend its businessand commercial influence and to serve its interests in diplomatic, consular, and professional life? To think at all carefully over the situation is to see at once that our people in North and Central Europe have just the same rights (and I don’t ask for anything more than that) to the services of their own Church as anywhere else in the world.
Take, for instance, this typical case of a friend of mine living in one of the cities of Europe, and now retired from business, but still living on where he is so well known, and where he has many ways of making himself of use. He was married young, and his bride went with him to make her home abroad. They had their own Church there, and there they took their children to be baptized and, when old enough, to worship, be confirmed, and become communicants. There those children have been married, and from there gone out into the world to make new homes. In his house the clergy have been always made welcome, and have visited them when sick, counselled them when necessary, and received much valuable advice in return. Can any one be heartless enough, or foolish enough, to say that there ought to have been no English Church in that place at all, and that he and his young wife ought to have attended the Church of thecountry, and with their descendants been lost to their own?
Then there are girls at school, young men learning the language, governesses, nurses, lads in the training stables, girls dancing on the stage—these are well shepherded in Paris—and others. Are they to feel in after life, “Just at the critical time, when I needed it most, my Church was not there to give me the helping hand—and all might have been so different if it had been!” I will not dwell upon all the priceless opportunities afforded us abroad, where touch is more quickly gained, and more easily maintained, of winning during sickness and at other times those who have never been in touch with clergy or Church at home, bringing them out into the light, gaining them for the Church, and sending them home to “strengthen the brethren” there.
Most of our clergy, from Northern Russia to Southern France and the Pyrenees, have their inspiriting stories to tell of the services they have rendered to the Church at home in this way, and yet that Church, if some of our brethren could have their way, would disown them. It won’t bear seriously thinking of, this objection to English Church work abroad; and surely it rings more true to what we feel is the Englishman’s duty wherever he is, when we read that ourcountrymen, after settling at Archangel in the sixteenth century, built their warehouses and their Church at the same time, and wished, in their adopted country, to worshipGod“after the manner of their fathers.”
I have taken a little time to explain our continental position thus, because it is the same in every country, is thoroughly understood, and never, as far as I know, resented. We always make it perfectly clear that we never wish to interfere with the Church of the country, nor the religion of its people, but are there to shepherd our own. And it is a curious thing that in Catholic Belgium, as it is called, with people devoted to their Church, and with a clerical government such as they have had for at least the last forty years, our Anglican clergy receive from the Belgian government the same recognition, status, stipends, grants for houses, etc., as are given to the clergy of the country.
But nowhere is the position of our Church more fully, sympathetically or affectionately recognized than in Russia. Nowhere would it be felt, as there, a grave and responsible neglect of duty on our part if we were to leave our own people without the ministrations of their own Church. They go further than this in sympathetic feeling, for they consider that there is a speciallink and bond of union between our Church and their own. An anonymous but evidently extremely well-informed writer about Russia, over thenom de plumeof “Anglitchanin” in a leading Review[13]a month or two ago, said, in the course of his article onRussia and the War, “the English Church is said to be very like the Greek Orthodox. It is not so in fact, but in Russia it is believed to be so byall classes of the population. That is indeed the one thing about England that they all know. I have known more than one peasant ask me, ‘Is England beyond Germany—far? or beyond Siberia? But your religion is like ours.’
“The origin of this belief,” he adds, “is to be found in the fact that we are not Lutherans on the one side, and on the other do not acknowledge the Pope.”
They welcome our bishops and clergy to their services in their robes, and attend ours in the same way. When the late Duke of Edinburgh married the daughter of the Emperor Alexander, the service took place first in the cathedral with the Russian rite, with Dean Stanley present in his robes, and then a second time in the English Church with our own service, with the Russian clergy present in the sanctuary. The Bishop of London also loves to describe his reception atthe great Troitsky Monastery near Moscow, where he attended the services in cope and mitre, and with pastoral staff, and was greeted by all the clergy present as one of their own bishops; and the last time I heard him describe the beautiful ceremonial, he added significantly, “I should not have been received in that way at S. Peter’s, Rome”; but who can say what may be the outcome of this war? There has been a wonderful drawing together of the French and English clergy, and perhaps we may soon have more brotherly relations with the Roman clergy, even though we do not have inter-communion.
When four of our English bishops went to Russia with a large party of Members of Parliament and business men, three years ago, the chaplain at Petrograd arranged a choral celebration of Holy Communion in his church, and it was attended by some of the highest dignitaries of the Russian Church, who were present in their robes and took part in the procession, following the service as closely and intelligently as they could. No clergy of our Church have ever gone to Russia to learn what they could for themselves, or give lectures, or act as members of deputations, and come into touch with the Orthodox clergy and been disappointed with their reception; but, on the contrary, they have often been quiteastonished at the warmth of welcome offered them and the keen interest shown towards them.
I had no idea until I had read what theContemporary Reviewhas told us that there is nothing so well known about England, throughoutall classesof the population, as the similarity of the two Churches and the religion they represent; but I can speak for the archbishops, bishops, and clergy, that they have a real knowledge of the Church of England and the character of its services, and a very sincere wish to be on friendly and brotherly terms with its members, clergy and laity alike. And I do not think there is one of them who would not consider it a great compliment and most kind attention if any English Churchman called upon him to pay his respects and show interest in his church and work.
Their keen interest in our Church all over the empire, even in a humble little village, is extraordinarily different from the almost complete ignorance and indifference which prevails amongst our own countrymen as to theirs, except amongst the members of one or two societies founded to bring the two Churches into more real unity of spirit.
However, this, like so many other things, is to be entirely changed. We are going to see and know more than we have ever done before of theway in which “God is working His purpose out” in His Church, as we are being brought into intelligent sympathy with a simply overwhelming part of Christendom, as represented by the Orthodox Church of Russia and the other Churches of the East.
Will there be many English Churchmen who will not be most deeply moved when they read that the firstTe Deum, after all these centuries, has been sung in St. Sophia, in Constantinople? It will be a most inspiring thing too to hear that the whitewash, always peeling off, which covers up the mosaic picture of ourLord, has been cleared away, and He is shown looking down in blessing while the Holy Communion is once more celebrated in the great Church of Justinian.
We are all praying thatGodwill bring good out of evil, and overcome evil with good, as this war draws on to its close, and many of us from time to time think of the “good” it will be for humanity if a more united Christian Church can be one of its first results. “Who will not pray?” said Mr. W. J. Birkbeck, the one English layman who knows Russia, its people, and its Church as few Englishmen or even Russians know them, when addressing a great gathering in London last year, “that this terrible conflict in which we are engaged will bring the Eastern and EnglishChurches closer to one another? We are mindful of the considerable advances which have already been made in that direction, and of the ever-increasing friendship which has arisen between the English and Russian Churches of late years, and more especially during the twenty years’ reign of the Emperor Nicholas II. It is known that even in the earliest years of his reign His Majesty more than once expressed his wish that the two Churches should get to know one another more closely, and that this was the best way to draw the two nations together. It is known too that Queen Victoria, when she was told of this, said, ‘Yes, it is not only the best way, it is the only sure way.’ The visits of Anglican bishops at various times have all tended to promote good feeling and mutual understanding, as did also the visit to England of the late Archbishop Antonius of Finland, afterwards Metropolitan of St. Petersburg, on the occasion of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee. The question of the reunion of our two Churches is one that cannot be forced or rushed; it will never be brought about by compromises, or by diplomatic shams. It will only come about when the two Churches, after coming fully to know one another, find that both of them hold the whole of that Faith which each of them, and notone only, and all its members, and not some only, hold to be essential.”
I hope it will not be uninteresting now if, as they are not many in number, I describe briefly the places where English Church work is carried on in Russia, and give some characteristic service at each.
At Petrograd the British Church, with the parsonage, library, and a number of other suites of rooms, is a great block of buildings, formerly a palace, owned and maintained by the British Factory, and with a staff of three clergy. The church is the former ballroom of the palace, and is a classical basilica, with rows of Greek pillars and capitals, and a very impressive place of worship. If I single out one of the beautiful services I have known I shall choose the Evensong on the Feast of the Epiphany last year, when I preached on the last day of my stay, and had what one might call a Sunday congregation. It was grand to see that large congregation on a weekday, so far away from home.
The Bishop and Russian Chauffeur in the midst of the Steppes on the way to Atbazar.The Bishop and Russian Chauffeur in the midst of the Steppes on the way to Atbazar.
Three other places are served from Petrograd—Helsingfors, Narva, and Schlusselberg. Helsingfors has a small community of girls engaged in teaching and nursing, and the one Englishman who lives there with his wife, a Mr. Reid, is a Professor of English in the Finn University.One has to go there and return during the night, and during my day there I had a Confirmation in the Art School, most carefully and reverently prepared, and in the evening Mr. and Mrs. Reid had all the girls for a reception, at which I was able to chat with them individually and speak to them about the important and responsible trust they had in being allowed to lay the foundations of character in young lives. At midnight they were all on the station to say good-bye, bright English girls with sparkling eyes and happy faces. Who could not go away deeply thankful that they were not allowed to feel in that remote place that they were forgotten by their Church?
Narva is a great manufacturing community with a large staff of Englishmen, also a long journey away, and it so happens that they are nearly all Nonconformists there, but they value our services, and enjoyed mine with them, followed as it was by a special evening of music and recitations, about sixty being present.
Schlusselberg is a large factory for printing cotton goods for Asia, half a day’s journey up the Neva, where we always have an evening service followed by Holy Communion next morning. It is the only place I have yet known where all the community, about forty, have beenpresent at the evening service, and next morning beenallpresent again as communicants, but with one added to their number, a man who had been away the night before.
Moscow has a church and parsonage and large courtyard, as will be seen in the illustration; almost startlingly like, it seems in that ancient capital, to a bit of a London suburb. But as I saw it on Christmas Eve last year it was Russian enough, the great courtyard was full oftroikasand sledges, and the clear air musical with tinkling bells as the people came driving in from far and near, clad in warm furs, for the service. That Christmas Eve, with its carols and the old hymns, helped one to realize what it means to have an English church and clergyman in a community like that of Moscow. The chaplain conducts all the services, does all the work of the community, and visits over a large neighbourhood outside, single-handed.
Warsaw is the next capital to take, much before us of late, and perhaps with a great place yet to fill in future history. It is the centre of Christian work amongst the Russian Jews, as I shall have to explain more at length in my next chapter; but there is also a British community to whom the chaplain ministers, and which perhaps numbers, all told, about a hundred, with one or twooutlying places reckoned in. The service I remember most at Warsaw, and shall always associate with it, was the dedication or consecration—the two abroad mean the same thing—of their church. We had it on a Sunday morning, with a very large congregation, and very impressive it was to take, so far away, as our little copies of the service told us, “The Order of Consecration as used in the Diocese of London.” There were some Old Catholics present, and they were deeply impressed with the scriptural character of a service which carried us back to the days of David and Solomon. I dare say it was true of all there, as one of them said, that they had never seen the consecration of a church of their own before, and had had to come to Russia for it when they did.
We have only two other places in our jurisdiction—as the shores of the Black Sea fall to the Diocese of Gibraltar—Libau and Riga.
Libau is a Baltic port in Courland, a German-speaking place, where there is an extremely small British community, but where there are a fair number of British ships in the course of the year. The establishment consists of two flats side by side, one of which supplies the chaplain and his wife with a comfortable home; and the other, which communicates with it, provides an institute,with papers and a billiard-table, etc., for the sailors, and a beautiful little chapel opening out of it. When last there we had a reception, or social, in the institute, followed by a service; after which we came back into the institute, and I had a talk with the seamen and apprentices and one or two young fellows in the business houses. I need not ask the reader if he thinks that little church ought to be there or not.
Riga is a great port, also on the Baltic, and its beautiful church, with a great spire, is close to the banks of the river. It has a splendid position and is tremendously appreciated and well supported by a fairly large and prosperous community. The service to mention here was my Confirmation on the Russian Whitsun Day last year but one. Every one comes to a Confirmation abroad, and it was to us at Riga a real anniversary of the great gift of theHoly Spirit. It was in the afternoon, and we had had the Holy Communion at eight and Morning Service at eleven as at home—but the Confirmation was at three, and wastheservice of the day.
It makes a great difference when a large congregation can really be brought to pray during the short space of silence usually kept for the purpose. They most certainly prayed that afternoon at Riga, and many told me in touchinglanguage what an experience it had been to them. These aregreatopportunities abroad. A man in middle life told me once, also abroad, what the confirmation of his daughter had been to him that day after he had been led specially to pray in the service; and he added, “I’ve never been at a Confirmation before this since my own at Charterhouse, and I can only wish that it had meant more to me at the time.”
There is one other place to mention, the port which is historic for us in more senses than one just now—Archangel. It is not actually upon the White Sea, but a little distance up the Dvina, and is frequented by a good number of British ships in the summer when the sea there is free from ice. There is a church and a rectory, but no community at all, and so the Russia Company send a chaplain there for the summer months to visit the men aboard ship and hold services for them ashore.
The Anglican Church in Russia, therefore, for I have described every place in which it is at work, is not a very large community, but I can claim that it is zealous, earnest, efficient, and thoroughly representative, and I feel sure that it will be admitted that it is doing a real and good work for Russia as well as for ourselves. I have often brought home to myself the realsignificance of an interest or influence by asking myself what I should do without it. And if one only just thinks, “What would our countrymen do in Russia? how would they hope to knit up real and lasting ties, if their Church were not there?” there would be, to my mind, no answer which could be adequately expressed in words.
I hope to be able, when the war is over, to appoint a chaplain whose work it shall be to travel over those great spaces in European and Siberian Russia and visit very small communities where it is impossible for a permanent chaplain to find enough to do.
These will rapidly increase now as the country and its people become better known to us. The first Church of England Service ever taken in Siberia is a very good instance to give of such opportunities. It was in 1912, at Ekaterinburg, just beyond the Urals, and in the government of Perm, a large and growing town of 80,000 people, where our British community is represented almost entirely by one family named Yates, paper manufacturers, whose first mill was built there fifty years ago. It now consists of Mr. and Mrs. Yates, their brothers, children, and grandchildren.
Ekaterinburg is a distributing centre for theBible Society, and their agent—earnest, energetic, and capable—is one of the best-known and respected Englishmen in Siberia. He it was who had prepared for my coming, arranged for me to stay with Mr. and Mrs. Yates, and invited every one within reach—“I’ve sounded the big drum,” he said—and with governesses, English wives of Russians, a young fellow and his wife teaching roller-skating, and one or two others—some having travelled long distances to get there—we must have numbered about thirty in all. They prepared a little temporary altar in the large drawing-room, with anikon, flowers, etc., and we had Holy Communion, a morning and evening service, our dinner and supper together, and a priceless experience of the unity which thankfulness and fellowship always bring with them when realized in common prayer and worship.
From Ekaterinburg I went a day’s journey to another town, in a part of the country to which very few English travellers ever go, and there the small community consisted of one family only, though they were three generations. We were only a dozen altogether, and some might think it was hardly worth taking up a bishop’s time for three days to go and see one family. But the head of that family had been there between fortyand fifty years, and never had our Church’s service during that time, nor received Communion. The grandchildren had never seen or heard the service before, and they were the children of a Russian father, attending a Russian school. I made my address simple so that they could understand it, knowing that the others could if the children did, and I had one or two opportunities of conversation with them, which they greatly welcomed. Late at night I left, all the party accompanying me to the station to see me off; and after we had said, “Good-bye,” and they had left, the mother of those children came back quietly and said:—
“Bishop, I felt I must come back just to tell you this. In the winter, after having tried so long to keep my boy and girl English in their ideas, I felt hopeless and gave up the struggle; but I want you to know that in the service to-day I’ve had the strength and courage given me to begin again.”