If administrative abuses are rife in the Empire of the Tsars, it is not from any want of carefully prepared laws.  In no country in the world, perhaps, is the legislation more voluminous, and in theory, not only the officials, but even the Tsar himself, must obey the laws he has sanctioned, like the meanest of his subjects.  This is one of those cases, not infrequent in Russia, in which theory differs somewhat from practice.  In real life the Emperor may at any moment override the law by means of what is called a Supreme Command (vysotchaishiye povelenie), and a minister may “interpret” a law in any way he pleases by means of a circular.  This is a frequent cause of complaint even among those who wish to uphold the Autocratic Power.  In their opinion law-respecting autocracy wielded by a strong Tsar is an excellent institution for Russia; it is arbitrary autocracy wielded by irresponsible ministers that they object to.

As Englishmen may have some difficulty in imagining how laws can come into being without a Parliament or Legislative Chamber of some sort, I shall explain briefly how they are manufactured by the Russian bureaucratic machine without the assistance of representative institutions.

When a minister considers that some institution in his branch of the service requires to be reformed, he begins by submitting to the Emperor a formal report on the matter.  If the Emperor agrees with his minister as to the necessity for reform, he orders a Commission to be appointed for the purpose of considering the subject and preparing a definite legislative project.  The Commission meets and sets to work in what seems a very thorough way.  It first studies the history of the institution in Russia from the earliest times downwards—­or rather, it listens to an essay on the subject, especially prepared for the occasion by some official who has a taste for historical studies, and can write in a pleasant style.  The next step—­to use a phrase which often occurs in the minutes of such commissions—­consists in “shedding the light of science on the question” (prolit’ na dyelo svet nauki).  This important operation is performed by preparing a memorial containing the history of similar institutions in foreign countries, and an elaborate exposition of numerous theories held by French and German philosophical jurists.  In these memorials it is often considered necessary to include every European country except Turkey, and sometimes the small German States and principal Swiss cantons are treated separately.

To illustrate the character of these wonderful productions, let me give an example.  From a pile of such papers lying before me I take one almost at random.  It is a memorial relating to a proposed reform of benevolent institutions.  First I find a philosophical disquisition on benevolence in general; next, some remarks on the Talmud and the Koran; then a reference to the treatment of paupers in Athens after the Peloponnesian War,