“May God forgive me,” replied the horseman, “but in many months the sisters have had no opportunity to welcome such handsome travelers as you. If you will only stop here you will be received like great men.” When my interpreter further questioned the fellow he told me a tale that recalled Boccaccio and the Florentines of the Middle Ages--which I was assured was truly Russian! Two hours later we passed Professor Vassiliev’s gates. Dogs greeted our arrival, and the professor himself raised a window to call out, in Russian: “Who’s there? What is it?” “Good-evening, professor,” I answered, in English, “you speak English, do you not?” “English! Yes, I do--but who are you?” “An American,” I replied. “Impossible!” exclaimed the good man. “But come in. Whoever you are you’re heartily welcome.” And heartily welcome we were made. Not only the professor, but his delightful wife, and his charming oldest son and daughter, all spoke perfect English, and their cordiality was beyond anything I had anticipated. We talked until past midnight, and then a room was prepared for my interpreter and myself. I chanced to have with me a copy of Professor Paul Miliukoff’s admirable book, “Russia and Its Crisis,” being lectures delivered at the University of Chicago. Professor Vassiliev and his son were overjoyed at this, and begged me to let them have it over night. “Miliukoff himself may not have a copy,” they told me; “it is a forbidden book in Russia.” Next morning they told me that they had both read it through during the night while we slept--and returned it with profuse gratitude. Professor Vassiliev conducted me over his estate and afforded me opportunities for conversations with many peasants, and everywhere I found my earlier impressions confirmed. The peasants had advanced by leaps and bounds within a few months, and in the words of the professor: “Kazan was then ripe for insurrection, if only the firebrand were applied, with the assurance that neighboring provinces were rising also.” Professor Vassiliev was a staunch liberal, a Constitutional Democratic deputy to the first Duma, and a hereditary landowner. Yet he looked upon the expropriation of land in Russia, not only as desirable, but as presently inevitable. “At the same time I am a monarchist,” he added; “but, though a monarchist, I must say that the blunders of the present monarch have damaged him forever with the peasants. The war shook their belief in him. His treatment of the Duma added to their skepticism, and the sending of the Duma away was the final blow.” “As for the expropriation of land in Russia,” continued the professor, “I believe in the principle, and I shall be glad when my lands are taken--with the rest. I would leave to the proprietors only their house gardens.” When the man who has much to lose is willing to lose all for the good of his neighbors, then, indeed, is the spirit of true citizenship met in its purest form.