And we see at the end of this story another characteristic reveal itself: the belief in the special mission of the Russian people. This belief we find in several Russian writers: in Dostoevsky it becomes an active and painful conviction, and his chief grievance against Turgeniev was simply that he could not trace in him this national feeling, his opinion being that Turgeniev was too westernized. In his speech at the Pushkin celebrations, Dostoevsky declared that Pushkin, still in flush of imitating Byron and Chénier, suddenly found what Dostoevsky calls the “Russian note,” a note “fresh and sincere.” Replying to the question (which he describes as “accursed”) “What faith can we have in the Russian people and in its worth?” Pushkin exclaimed, “Humble thyself, thou son of arrogance, and first conquer thy pride. Humble thyself and before the people, bend thy neck towards thy mother earth.” Never perhaps are ethnic differences more clearly marked than when the manner of interpreting _honour_ is involved. The hidden mainspring of civilized man’s conduct seems to me to be less a matter of amour-propre, as La Rochefoucauld would have said, than a feeling for what we call the “point of honour.” This feeling for personal honour, this sensitive spot, is not exactly alike for Frenchman, Englishman, Italian, and Spaniard. But contrasted with the Russian conception, the codes of honour of all Western nations seem to fuse practically into one. When we appreciate the Russian’s idea of honour, we see at once how often the code of the Western world is opposed to the teaching of the Gospels. And the Russian idea of honour is as much closer to the Gospels by virtue of its remoteness from Western nations; in other words, Christian feeling is predominant in the Russians, and often takes precedence of “honour” as we Westerners interpret the idea. Faced with the choice of seeking revenge or asking pardon by admitting himself in the wrong, the Westerner will often consider the second alternative lacking in dignity, the attitude of a coward or a nonentity. The Westerner tends to esteem unwillingness to forgive, forget, or remit offences a mark of strength of character, and certainly he tries never to put himself in the wrong; but, should he have done so, it would appear that the most unpleasant thing that could befall him would be the necessity for admitting the fact! The Russian, on the other hand, is ever ready to admit himself in the wrong--and even before his enemies--equally willing to humble himself and seek forgiveness.