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'proceeding to subjoin several poetical effusions of his pre
cocibus childhood. Such a relative will ransack the mem
ores of the old women of his neighborhood for incidents ol
his subject's childhood whichjclcarly point to the fact that he
was predestined to be great, and bring forth these incidents
with a sublime faith in their infallibility which is pathetic.
An optimistic obituary notice is pardonable. We can afford
to learn the charitable moments following a man's death, that
he was a "model husband and father," but if a man has
been noted enough to justify a biography, the world will
want an unbiased statement of his merits and faults written,
not by a sister, or a cousin, or an aunt, to whom each act o
his now seems inspired, but by someone capable of judging.
It's too bad that everyone doesn't realize his own peculiar
fitness for literature, and critical estimation of character
as fully as do these relatives. What a model lite rature we
would have in a short time if they didl In the name of all
that is good and true, if you find yourself irresistably im
pelled to write a biography, hunt up some one outside of
your own family to practice your art upon, or if you find your
self unavoidably becoming great, give exclusive biographical
rights to someone, who is not related to you.
V
Tolstoi has given us in "The Cossacks," one of his best
pictures of the rude peasant side of Russian life. The novel
is not refined in tone the class of people it deals with
excludes that quality. There are many traces of crudencss
in manner , of coarseness, even, which one always finds in a
a but partially civilized community for the Cossacks are
little, if any above what is demonstrated in our geographies
as "semi-barbarous." Tolstoi is too honest a man, and too
implicit a believer in the ultimate good of every phase of
human life to try to place a siiam culture upon a crude rustic
life. If there was not enough in the life of the Cossacks to
justify a novel, Tolstoi would have left it alone. If there
was enough in it there would be no need of simulating a
mock culture. Pet haps the best example of the point in
question is the covert suggestion made several times, that
the ladies prominent in the novel were not over cleanly in
their habits. Ot course we don't consider it a very high
degree of culture which postulates that a lady is essentially
cleanly, but if the Cossack peasant women are characterized
by a more or less conspicuous absence of this trait, Tolstoi
feels bound to record the fact. The point, like several others
of the same nature, derives its force from the fact that all the
other characteristics of the women lead us to look for some
thing entirely different.
A young Moscow gentleman, rejoicing in the euphonious
name ol Olycnin, opens the novel with a lamentation over
his inability to fall in love a situation heart-rending in
itself, of course, but which the average novel reader will
hope to see alieveatcd before the end of the story. He has
squandered half his patrimony, and is just setting out for
the Caucasus, where he was to accept a position as a non
commissioned officer and mend his shattered fortunes. At
the end of his first campaign he is billeted in a small village
at the house of the schoolmaster. The latter has a very
handsome, but at the same time proud and haughty daughter.
You see the sequel? Not exactly; they don't get married, but
the young officer, after a few ineffectual attempts, falls in
love to his heart's content. The young girl had a lover at
the time, and a very good lover, too, for he was the fore
most young Cossack of the village. 'Tis true he had an easy,
matter of fact way of indulging in some very bad habits, and
seemed to derive his chief glory from successful horse steal
ing, but these, perhaps, were the fault of his education , and
he was, after all, a brave, dashing young Cossack.
Olycnin had little trouble in taking his place in the affec
tions of Maryana. And just here is one of the best pieces of
work in the novel. Almost any woman, realizing as did
Mnryana, that her own intrinsic worth deserved a higher
type of lover than those of the class to which she belonged,
would receive as her right the attentions or even the homage
ofsuchaiover when he presented himself. But when it
came to violating her plighted word to her already accepted
lover, she would hesitate and realize that such an action was
impossible. So we feel that Maryana and Olycnin can never
be married, and are prepared for his dismissal. The young
Cossack is seriously wounded and regains his place in the
affections of Maryana.
The story in itself is comparatively nothing. It is merely
a means to set forth some of Tolstoi's best observations upon
Russian life and character. One is at a loss where to begin
admiring the touches which go to make this a great picture
of living, breathing humanity. Perhaps, what is to be com
mended most in the work is the completeness of the picture
presented. So many authors try to give us an idea of a
character by a scene here and an incident there, leaving all
between unexplained or untold, that it is a genuine treat to
read an author who shows everything which occurs between
the beginning and the end of his story. "But," someone
says, "many of these incidents have nothing whatever to do
with the advancement of the plot." Certainly not. We
care little or nothing for the plot. What we want is to
become thoroughly acquainted with men and women, to
know what and how they think and feel, and the novelist
who best tells us that will be the successful novelist of the
age.
One cannot fail to notice the strong, sterling character of
the women of the novel. Besides the individual force of
character of both Maryana and her mother, is the general
suggestion that the Cossack women are the veritable corner
stone, not only of the Cossack families, but of the villages
and of the slate. The entire management of domestic affairs
is in their hands, and upon them alone rests the credit or
discredit arising fiom a well or poorly directed farm. They
are the leading spirits of the community. Maryana is more
than a crystallization of this spirit. She surpasses her
mother and her neighbors in strength of .-haracter. After
repeated temptations, her purity and her loyalty ring out as
clearly as ever did that of the Roman matrons, or of our
revolutionary ancestresses. No one can doubt the absolute
correctness of Tolstoi's picture. He never errs in this
respect, and whenwe fully realize that of such a nature are
the mothers of Russia, we may begin to estimate how power
ful will be the coming generation of sons.
If you want to get solid with your girl take her some of
Mauley's taffy.
Largest line of boots, shoes and lubbers in the city ar
Webster & Briscoe's.
Capital City Shirt Factory gives a big reduction to stu
dents in underwear. 939 O street.
Buy the celebrated, double-backed 50c. shirts at the Cap
ital City Shirt Factory 930 O street.
Choice fruits, confectionery and lunch all the year round
at Chevront & Co's, Eleventh street near O.
Girls, if you want a cloak or a nice wrap, you will find
one to suit you at Mrs, W. . Gosper's, 1114 O street.
In New York go to Delmenico's, but in Lincoln go to
Chevront $ Co's for oysters in tvety style. Always- eSdy 10
serve you.