An incident which procured for me the pleasure of an interview with the chief censor for newspapers and so forth will illustrate some of the erroneous ideas entertained by strangers.  I desired to send to some friends in Russia a year’s subscription each of a certain American magazine, which sometimes justly receives a sprinkling of caviare for its folly, but which is not on the black list, and is fairly well known in Petersburg.  After some delay I heard from home that the publishers had consulted the United States postal officials, and had been informed that “no periodical literature could be sent to Russia, this being strictly prohibited.”  I took the letter to the newspaper censor, who found it amusingly and amazingly stupid.  He explained that the only thing which is absolutely prohibited is Russian text printed outside of Russia, which would never be delivered.  He did not explain the reason, but I knew that he referred to the socialistic, nihilistic, and other proscribed works which are published in Geneva or Leipzig.  Daily foreign newspapers can be received regularly only by persons who are duly authorized.  Permission cannot be granted to receive occasional packages of miscellaneous contents, the reason for this regulation being very clear.  And all books must be examined if new, or treated according to the place assigned them on the lists if they have already had a verdict pronounced upon them.  I may add, in this connection, that I had the magazines I wished subscribed for under another name, to avoid the indelicacy of contradicting my fellow-countrymen.  They were then forwarded direct to the Russian addresses, where they were duly and regularly received.  Whether they were mutilated, I do not know.  They certainly need not have been, had the recipients taken the trouble to obtain permission as I did, if they were aware of the possibility.  It is probable that I could have obtained permission for them, had I not been pressed for time.

I once asked a member of the censorship committee on foreign books on what principle of selection he proceeded.  He said that disrespect to the Emperor and the Greek Church was officially prohibited; that he admitted everything which did not err too grossly in that direction, and, in fact, everything except French novels of the modern realistic school.  He drew the line at these, as pernicious to both men and women.  He asked me if I had read a certain new book which was on the proscribed list.  I said that I had, and in the course of the discussion which ensued, I rose to fetch the volume in question from the table behind him to verify a passage. (This occurred during a friendly call.) I recollected, however, that that copy had not entered the country by post, and that, consequently, the name of the owner therein inscribed would not be found on the list of authorized readers any more than my own.  I am sure, however, that nothing would have happened if he had seen it, and he must have understood my movement.  My business dealings were wholly with strangers.