Appletons' Journal: a magazine of general literature.
November 1879, Volume 7, Issue 5 Pages 437-445
[page 437]

THE MALAKANI;
OR, SPIRITUAL CHRISTIANS IN EASTERN RUSSIA.

"THE Russian Government has invited the Malakani [Molokane], a sect of milk-drinkers, to settle in the Kars district." The sect to which this recently issued telegram of Reuter's office [Dated St. Petersburg, January 21, 1879 — see the "Times" and other newspapers of the 23d.] refers, having most of its adherents in certain villages of Eastern and Southern Russia, was introduced to the notice of the British public by Mr. Wallace, who, in 1872, visited several of its congregations, and held colloquies with the elders. [See Wallace's Russia, Among the Heretics.] The Malakani's Presbyterian organization, their familiarity with the Bible, the eagerness, earnestness, and shrewdness displayed by them in controversy, strongly reminded Mr. Wallace of his Scotch home and elicited his lively sympathy. Nor are their own countrymen less favorably disposed toward them — a fact all the more remarkable, as the Russian law classes the Malakani among the most pernicious sects, and as their wealth might be supposed to arouse envy. What fixes the eyes of Europeans, as well as of Russians, upon them, is indeed the unqualified praise bestowed upon them by every one; and the sharp contrast universally acknowledged to exist between them and their surroundings. In order to enable the reader to understand this, we must begin by throwing a glance on the other peasants of the East Russian steppes.

     Those other peasants are in no respect much above, and in some important points decidedly below, the neighboring Kirghiz nomads. Their villages, very similar to the winter quarters of well-to-do Kirghiz, are as gray and uniform as nomad encampments. The low, lengthy huts, with roofs of half-rotten thatch, are built of mud mixed with chopped straw, and stand in vast irregular yards, inclosed by crumbling walls of the same material. Only a few two-storied wooden [page 438] houses belonging to corn-dealers and usurers somewhat diversify the long winding rows of mud huts and mud walls. No grass, no tree, not even a kitchen-garden enlivens such a village; and its soil, either buried in snow, or parched, cracked, and covered with a thick layer of dust, or turned by snow and rain into a quagmire, is far drearier than even the sunburned steppe on which the nomad pitches his felt tent. It is difficult to say whether that tent or the hut is more scantily furnished, and as regards every kind of disgusting disorder the hut is unquestionably worse than the tent. Even the domestic economies of the peasant and the nomad are surprisingly similar. The peasant is in perpetual search for fresh land; he cultivates the same field only two years in succession, and then leaves it for a number of years, until, by thus lying fallow, it has recovered sufficient fertility — a system exactly alike in principle to the nomad's wandering in quest of fresh grass-plots. Still more in accordance with nomad usages is the peasant's pasturing. The animals of all the families in the village are intrusted to shepherds and herdsmen hired by the community, who drive them as long as the season permits over the far-stretching village commons. These herds and flocks, the peasants' only means of investment — for they spend nothing on the improvement of their agriculture, and the land itself is partly community-land distributed for cultivation, partly rented — are a very precarious kind of property in these regions, where the cattleplague is endemic, and where the scum of all the nationalities on the steppe-Russians, Malorossians, Germans, Tartars, Kirghiz, Calmucks — unite in horse-stealing, passing the booty rapidly from hand to hand until it disappears in some nomad herd often hundreds of miles from where it was taken. Another mighty impediment to the peasants' economical progress is their savage like improvidence. They no doubt dispose of masses of land which to the European farmer would appear fabulous, and therefore require no manure. These advantages, however, are widely outbalanced by the distance of markets and the uncertainty of prices; by a winter so severe and capricious that little more than five months are left for agricultural labor; by droughts, untimely frosts, sudden blights, rust, mice; in years of good growth, enormously dear labor and wet autumns, an average yield less than a third of that habitual in England; bad years being the rule, and somewhat satisfactory ones the exception, and at least one harvest in ten returning less than the seed. These things are of course well known to the peasant; and yet, after every harvest, he is, as long as the money lasts, in a state of bestial besottedness, accompanied on festive days by coarse feasting on a grand scale. The total result is that the increase of wealth scarcely keeps pace with the growth of population, and that the aspect of the peasant's life is as stationary as in Asia. The peasant's religion, though called Christian, is far more heathenish in its practices and superstitions than the by no means pure Mohammedanism of the Kirghiz; and, while these nomads mostly receive some kind of instruction from their mollahs, the minds of the peasants remain entirely uncultivated. Their morality is such as under these circumstances may be expected. That every man is a thief, is, according to a proverb current among them, a matter of course; no one would tell the truth where a lie seems more profitable; and the brute passions, though somewhat hidden by a superficial kindliness, assert their rule on every occasion, and sometimes burst out with fearful fury, Thus, not long ago, a troop of peasants from some of the villages we are here speaking of tried to put a stop to horse-stealing by striking terror into the souls of the Kirghiz. Armed and on horseback, and having drunk a whole tun — one hundred and forty gallons — of spirits, they sallied forth into the Kirghiz territory and murdered every man, woman, and child they could lay hands on, seizing the babes by the legs and hurting their heads against those of their parents. Such is the civilization in the midst of which the Malakani five, for those very villages from which the expedition just described was recruited are noted abodes of Malakanism; and at a distance of about sixty miles from them is Alexandroff Gai, where Mr. Wallace, guided by the Russian friends with whom he was traveling, went to hold his principal conference with the Malakan elders.

     That town-like village is indeed specially fit to impress the stranger, for here the Malakani have, favored by exceptional circumstances, been able to settle in a quarter of their own, apart from the other inhabitants, and to build up, out of the same materials which the surrounding barbarism employs, a civilized life well adapted to the opportunities and requirements of the steppe on the border of Asia. The streets in the Malakan quarter of Alexandroff Gai, though straight and of great breadth and considerable length, do not contain many houses; the yards being of unusual vastness even here. The walls, extending from house to house, by which these yards are separated from the streets, as well as the stables, barns, and granaries within the yards, though built of mud-bricks, are even, regular, and in good repair; and the whole homestead, however strange to the European eye, on account of the enormous waste of space, the long, low, earth colored farm-buildings, the absence of verdure, the unwonted human figures — peasants with long beards, dressed in cotton shirts and wide, baggy [page 439] breeches, and horsemen in Kirghiz array, and with Mongol features — differs most markedly from the dilapidation and wild disorder customary in Russian farmyards. As regards the houses, the best of them, similar in shape to those of the dealers in other parts of Alexandroff Gai, are wooden, brightly painted, two-storied, with an outside staircase leading to the gallery which runs along the upper story; and over that story a garret with a small balcony — altogether a stately-looking building. The second-rate houses, one-storied and of weather-stained wood, and the still poorer huts of mud bricks, are remark able only by their neatness. The center of the upper story in the best houses is formed by a large, hall-like room with broad benches along the walls and one or two tables. Here prayer meetings are held and guests are received. On either side of the hall is a good-sized room, inhabited, the one by the elder, the other by the younger members of the family. On the ground floor are the kitchen and the store-rooms. The whole house is neat and orderly; and the poorer houses, though less attractive, are also pleasant and homelike. The dress of the inhabitants is analogous to their abode; that is to say, it differs from that of the other peasants only in neatness and substantiality, not in material or cut. All the clothes — with the exception of the elderly men's cloth caftans, the baggy trousers of black cotton velvet or other thick cotton stuff, and the sheepskin furs — are made of cotton prints or scarlet cottonades, and the men are girt with twisted woolen shawls. Yet, in spite of this attire, and of the hair dressed and cut, and the beards worn just as other peasants have them, the fact that the Malakani are very different from their fellow villagers is apparent at the first sight of most of them, in the honest, beaming eyes, the mild expression of the faces, and the frankness of the address, though that is somewhat subdued by a but too easily explicable shyness.

     The Malakani's prosperity is owing to their intelligence, their frugality, to the confidence they enjoy, to the unity within their families, and to their mutual assistance. In Alexandroff Gai, where, notwithstanding the abundance of land, there is much poverty among the other peasants, every Malakan household is at least above need; and the twelve wealthiest Malakan families hold together two hundred thousand acres of crown land, the individual holdings varying between three and forty thousand acres. Each of these vast tracts is used principally for cattle- or sheepbreeding, and a small part for wheat-growing in the above-described fashion; that is to say, every year some of the pasture is turned into fields, and each field, after having been cultivated for two years, is again turned into pasture. The cattle, three to five hundred on the largest holdings, and the still more numerous sheep, are placed in the hands of Kirghiz herdsmen, who, having felt tents, horses, and some cattle of their own, encamp the whole year on the steppe, and, living exactly like other Kirghiz, perform their herdsmen's duties on horseback. Their pay is quite sufficient for their small wants; and they, as well as the numerous farm-servants and laborers in the Malakani's employ, are faithful to their masters because they are treated, not as beasts of burden, but as fellow men. "We feed our work-people with beef, said one of the largest Malakan farmers to me, "because what tastes sweet to us also tastes sweet to them."

     Such farming as that which I have just described is possible only in a very thinly inhabited part, where land may be had from the crown at a yearly rent of about twopence an acre. In the somewhat more westerly districts, life is not so easy; but there are other advantages of which the Malakani avail themselves with much energy and skill. My host, in one of the villages which shared in the murdering raid into the Kirghiz territory, devotes his attention to a variety of pursuits. Land in that neighborhood, which, though sixty miles farther westward than Alexandroff Gai, is nearly sixty miles from the Volga, is proportionably dear (ten shillings an acre yearly rent for the best land), on account of the competition of the German colonies in the vicinity. Yet my host, nothing daunted, extends his farming from year to year, and has now six hundred acres under wheat, recouping himself by the high quality of his produce, part of which he sells for seed. He owns two flour-mills. When cattle are cheap he takes to slaughtering, and sells the hides, tallow, and meat. The village fair is leased to him, and he lets the permanent booths and the places for temporary stalls. His house, similar to the best houses in Alexandroff Gai, is used by him for receiving travelers, chiefly corndealers, from the ports on the Volga, whom he attracts by assisting them in their purchases, and by the fairness of his terms. Some Malakani have large orchards systematically tended and watered, and producing rich harvests of valuable apples; some are carriers, some are tanners and dealers in leather, some are carpenters, some are house-painters; some of the women make thick, velvety rugs for which they themselves dye the wool; and, whatever the Malakani undertake, every one likes to have intercourse with them, convinced of the soundness of their labor and of their faithfulness in keeping their word — rare satisfactions in Eastern Russia. My own business transactions with two of my Malakan hosts strongly reminded me of some of the best traits of European life. I had furnished my room, in [page 440] the house of one of them, with the articles necessary for a few months' stay; and when I was going to leave I asked the landlady how to dispose of the furniture. " How much do you want for it?" asked she. I named the price for each article. "I shall take them at those prices," answered she, without any attempt at haggling. The second affair is still more characteristic. I had lived five weeks with my host, Athanas Gavrilevitch Orloff, the owner of the two flourmills mentioned above. Our agreement was that I was to pay three rubles a week for board and lodging; it, however, happened that I was, by various misunderstandings with my banker, nearly without money, and had not paid Orloff anything until my departure, and he knew that I had then only twenty-five rubles. In consequence of this situation the following dialogue took place:

     The evening before my departure I said, "Here are twenty-five rubles, take fifteen and return me ten."
     Atk. Gavr. "I have not time just now."
     Thereupon in the morning:
     I. "Here are twenty-five rubles, take fifteen and return me ten."
     Atk. Gavr. takes the money reluctantly, and, saying nothing, brings back eighteen rubles.
     I. "You have made a mistake; here are eighteen rubles instead of ten."
     Atk. Gavr. "No, don't you see, three rubles a week I take from the corn-dealers, who give me no end of trouble; how could I take so much from you?"

     The Malakani's family life moves in the same patriarchal form as that of the other peasants. Not only the unmarried children, but also the married sons and their sons and unmarried daughters are under the progenitor's roof and rule. But while this organization is in other Russian peasant families a source of brutal and capricious despotism, and of endless quarrels and heartburnings, it is in the Malakani's home ideally harmonious. Its principal traits here are the zeal of the paterfamilias to fulfill his duties with dignity and with equal justice and affection toward the whole household; his family's loving reverence for him; the high position of his wife; the total equality between daughters and sons — in spite of the harsh treatment of the female sex under the Russian law — and the absolutely free choice of partners in matrimony. The contrasts between the Malakani and the other peasants become still more striking when we enter into the details of their daily lives. The delight of the other peasants is the squalid, tumultuous dram-shop; in their homes, bestiality, noise, and filth; a coarse show of opulence one day, and misery a few days after; ferocious domestic despotism and the vices engendered by it, are constantly to be witnessed. The flow of the Malakani's life, on the contrary, is so still and even that Europeans, accustomed to hurry and turmoil, can not imagine it. Work performed without haste, and yet steadily, and in willing cooperation with all the members of the family; instruction of the children by their parents, prayers, psalm-singing, colloquies on religious subjects, reading of the Bible, and congregational assemblies, constitute the Malakani's whole existence. Their religious exercises, showing none of the enthusiasm and the self-consciousness which appear to us essential to sectarian piety, are for them inexhaustible sources of quiet enjoyment.

     The Malakan religion exceeds all other religions in the want of established outward marks, and is therefore not easy to describe. It certainly bears some trace of the sources from which it sprang — that is to say, of the influence of two older sects — the one originated by the teaching of English Quakers in Moscow, the other Judaizing. But since the foundation of Malakanism a century has elapsed, and the remnants of those influences are now of small significance for its essence; and, in comparing Malakanism with other religions, we obtain little more than negations. The Malakani abhor image-worship, have no priests, no dogma, no sacraments, no symbols of faith, no consecrated forms of worship, no sacred buildings, no peculiar dress and manner, and do not imagine themselves to be inspired by the Holy Ghost. Although their congregational meetings mostly take place on Sundays and other great church holidays, they do not scruple to transact business on those days; and any day appears to them fit for congregational devotion. Even their Presbyterianism, very unlike that of the Calvinists, scarcely deserves the name of a constituted church government. For their elders are simply old men, well read in the Scriptures, who owe their authority to tacit consent, not to election; and it is not easy to draw a line where eldership begins. Mere negations can not, however, give an idea of Malakanism; and we must try to collect its positive traits.

     Its outward form is the very extreme of plainness. The locality where the congregation assembles is, as a rule, one of the hall-like rooms; but a smaller room, or a yard, or even a field, also answers the purpose. The service is described in the following manner by a witness who often saw it celebrated:

     "In the large room where the assembly is going to take place a table is covered with a white cloth, and upon it a number of Bibles and psalters are placed. When the presiding elder enters the room all the others rise and salute him by [page 441] bending their heads; he also bends his head, and all pray in silence. He then proceeds to his seat, indicates the chapters of the prophets, the Psalms, the New Testament, to be read; after the reading he points out the Psalms or chapters intended to be sung; all then go nearer to the table. The singing itself is melancholy, resembling that of popular ballads. After the singing there is again some reading, and then a prayer, likewise composed of Bible verses. At the end of the prayer the whole congregation, led by the elder, prostrate themselves. Some other prayers are performed kneeling."

     My own experience of Malakani congregational worship is slightly different from this description, but agrees with its most prominent trait, the total absence of settled liturgical forms and of an established order. No one knows before the beginning of the service what is going to be read and sung. The presiding elder himself chooses the texts during the service. Not unfrequently several elders preside, and the choice is made by consultation, or sometimes alternately by the one, sometimes by the other. Colloquial commentaries, principally by the elders, on the passages which have been read, are not uncommon. Most congregations have a few traditional prayers in prose, and some religious songs, which are occasionally, according to the presiding elder's choice, employed in the service. More settled, and even approaching to a liturgical ritual, are the services for weddings, the reception of the new-born, and burial. But the presiding elder is here also at liberty to choose and alter as he deems appropriate. Family devotion is still more devoid of set rules. It is not usual in Malakan families to gather regularly for any purpose; and even the meals are about as uncertain and prolonged as breakfast in an English country mansion where there are many visitors. There are, therefore, no established usages for saying grace, nor is there anything at all akin to English morning and evening family worship. All the above-mentioned private religious exercises are quite free, according to each member's own choice. Even fasts are kept in the same way. They are self-imposed penances, and though, like the Jewish fasts, consisting in total abstinence from food, often last several days. The only other remnant of Judaism in the congregations I have here more specially in view is a peremptory objection to pork. In some other congregations, however, the Saturday Sabbath is kept exactly as in Jewish houses, and even minute details of Jewish Sabbath-customs are observed. Some congregations in the Caucasus even used, twenty years ago, to have certain Hebrew prayers, and perhaps have them still.

     The three great events of family life — marriage, birth, and death — are, as I have already said, consecrated by congregational worship; and the marriage ceremony, though absolutely colorless, is very impressive. The whole congregation assembles in one of the vast yards, and its representative on this occasion is the very oldest man, white-haired, trembling, and so all the more venerable. This service is very lengthy, and consists principally of prayers, composed of Bible verses, which the elder reads, the congregation joining only in the amens and prostrations. The burial service is less long, but else of a similar nature.

     As regards the doctrines professed by the Malakani, they can not properly be said to have any other established faith than that the Bible is God's word, and ought therefore to be obeyed. The teaching derived by them from this axiom is not at all dogmatical, but merely practical, and exclusively consists in the application of the commands of the gospel to the duties of every-day life, an endeavor in which they have acquired a great proficiency, even their young people, girls especially, vying with each other in the quoting of texts. The practical lessons thus deduced are well fitted to meet with the approval of the educated — whether religious or not — in Western Europe. Their treatment of what we call "the rights of the female sex," is especially remarkable. Such "rights" they do not acknowledge, because, as they instinctively feel, religion teaches only duties, not rights; and yet they manage to assure to women as lofty a position as any enthusiast could desire. The matrimonial relations are based upon the rule that "the husband ought to love his wife as Christ loves his Church." This rule is not only accepted and applied throughout private life, but is also the source of the juridical decisions of elders and congregations in questions of marriage law. The reason alleged for granting equal advantages to daughters and sons is that "God commands us to love all our children alike, and that therefore to give a preference to sons would be sinful. " All the other teachings are analogous to these. A superficial observer might, however, be misled into the belief that, besides these practical lessons, there is in Matakanism, as in other religions, some formulated dogmatical creed. For there are scores of Malakan professions of faith, much more similar to each other than the creeds of the various branches of Calvinism. But all of them form part of those enormously voluminous secret documents of the Ministry of the Interior relating to the criminal prosecutions and police investigations of sectarianism, some specimens of which, stolen from the archives, were published by Ketsieff, one of Herzen's followers (4 vols., London, Trubner & Co., 1860-1862). The Russian law [page 442] considers sectarian propagandism as a crime, and the Malakani as sectarians of the most dangerous kind; and thousands of reports and protocols of criminal inquests into Malakanism, therefore, exist in the head office and the branch offices of the Ministry of the Interior, to whose functions those inquests, which were indeed more administrative than juridical, appertained till not long ago. The inquisitors were of course obliged to ask the accused, "What is your faith?" and the accused were obliged to answer. All these professions of faith are therefore, in fact, answers to questions of men belonging to the orthodox Church, although their form does not always indicate it. E.g.:

     "Priests and Bishops. — 'We have a great high priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession' (Heb. iv. 14). [Heb 4:14]
     "Images. — We have a priceless image, the Son of God, 'Who is the image of the invisible God, the first-born of every creature' (Coloss. i. 15). [Col 1:15]
     "Censer and Incense. — Our incense consists in prayers. 'Let my prayer be set forth before thee as incense' (Ps. cxli. 2). [Psa 141:2]"

     The scarcely veiled meaning of the above and of a number of similar answers is, "We do not accept the rites and dogmas of the established Church, because they are not in accordance with the Bible." Besides such negations there is in these professions of faith a much more positive element; for instance:

     "Baptism. — The soul's diving into God's word and love.
     "Communion. — The soul's partaking in the good word of God.
     "Confession. — The prayer addressed to Jesus that he may act as mediator for the forgiveness of sin."

     Although these answers fully agree with the Malakani's convictions, we should be much mistaken if we considered them as their intellectual property. They are, indeed, nothing but the petrified remnants of the doctrines of Duchobortsi [Dukhoborsti, Doukhobortsi: Doukhobors, Dukhobors] (spiritual warriors), the older sect, from which Malakanism sprang. That sect, which, as already said, derived its origin from Quaker teaching, is perhaps even more remarkable than the Malakani. Its principal abode, on the Molotchnaya River, in the Crimea, was visited in 1818 by the Quaker R. Allen and two other Quakers, and in 1842 by Baron Haxthausen; and all these travelers were astonished by the Duchobortsi's mystical speculations and the dialectical subtilty with which they defended them. The Malakani, on the contrary, are as far as possible from being great thinkers. They no doubt show some adroitness in fencing with the orthodox clergy; but their principal arm in such disputes is their own absolute incapacity to follow up a theological argument. They drive their adversaries themselves no very great lights-to despair by persistently misunderstanding them, and by over and over again repeating the same texts. Malakanism is an entirely practical and absolutely undogmatical religion. It takes its foundation for granted, and makes no effort to investigate it.

     All the Malakani can and do read; but, having no literature of their own except some manuscript prayers and religious songs, they must look elsewhere for intellectual food; and the choice made by them throws a curious light on their intellectual sphere, proving how completely they are cut off from the general movement. Besides Bibles and psalters in Slavonic — the same which are used in the orthodox Church — New Testaments, and a few parts of the Old Testament in modern Russian, and still fewer commentaries on the whole or part of the gospels, all of them likewise published by the orthodox Church, the Matakani read, as far as I was able to discover, only four books — the "Magazine of all the Amusements," the "Writings of Skovoroda," "Jung Stilling's Autobiography," and Livanoff s "Essays on Russian Sects." The latter author, though employed by the Government to attack sectarianism, and having for that purpose free access to the archives of the Ministry of the Interior, extols the Malakani almost beyond measure, and draws, with wonderful audacity, ironical parallels between them and the adherents of the established Church. The "Magazine of all the Amusements" is a collection of astrological, chiromantical, and other mantic tracts, apparently translated about fifty years ago from much older German publications. Skovoroda was a Cossack, a quaint Christian philosopher and poet of the last century. "Jung Stilling's Autobiography" was translated into Russian in 1815, and was in high favor with the mystics of St. Petersburg. It probably reached the Malakani from Sarepta, the Hernhut colony on the river Volga; and an adversary of the Matakani asserts that they at one time prized that book above the gospel. [For more on Jung-Stilling and Molokans, see: Berokoff, Molokans in America, Chapter 5.] Malakan owners of books certainly glory a little too much in the possession of these treasures, frequently mixing scraps from them with their conversation. For, though quite without spiritual pride, they are not free from a naive, childlike vanity. The Malakan congregational organization is, according to their own opinion, the counterpart of the organization of the early Church, and the resemblance is undeniable, because there is some similarity between the two situations. The Malakani, long accustomed to be treated by the law as dangerous sectarians, and to be deprived of many of the natural rights of unoffending men, [page 4431 look upon the Emperor and the Government much as the early Christians did, scrupulously obeying the authorities and laws, but obeying them as strangers. They call the established Church "Russian," and its adherents "Russians," just as if they themselves were foreigners. Their congregational assemblies have for that very reason a signification very similar to that which the "ecclesia" had for the early Christians. We have already seen that marriages and births are consecrated by the congregation; and these public acts have, in the eyes of the Malakani, a not merely sacramental but also a legal authority: nay, the Government itself, having no other means to ascertain the status of Malakan families, accords — though not openly and distinctly — some weight to those acts. All legal disputes between Malakani are brought before the congregation; and the elders are in their jurisdiction guided by their notions of Bible law; for the Bible is their only law-book, and when they sit in judgment it is constantly in their hands. The congregational assembly also admits new members, exercises a disciplinary authority, and receives confessions of sin. That no regular contributions are raised, and that the elders are entirely unpaid, are other important points of resemblance between the church government of the Malakani and that of the early Christians. The education of the young is not among the functions of the congregation; there neither are, nor ever were, any Malakani schools, but the somewhat desultory instruction of the Matakani children is performed solely by their relatives.

    Malakanism originated about a century ago, and its beginnings are fit to form the theme of a stirring novel. Its founder, the village tailor Uklein, left his legitimate wife to marry the daughter and become one of the principal followers of the village heresiarch Hilarion Pobirochin, a wealthy peasant in one of the villages of the province of Tambov (to the southeast of Moscow). Pobirochin had, during a residence in Poland, been imbued by some of the mystics of that country with ideas belonging rather to India than to Europe. On his return to his native village he placed himself at the head of the Duchobortsi of those parts, who, at that time, divided and uncertain in their doctrines, were, with the submissiveness of Russian peasants, disposed to accept the commands of his despotic will. He taught that there is no God, save in the persons of the righteous; that when one of these dies another one is born into whom the deceased's soul passes, while the souls of the lawless pass into the bodies of animals. Himself he considered as the incarnation of the Son of God. In order to enforce these doctrines he was surrounded by twelve unconditionally devoted adherents, called the "angels of death," who maintained his authority by means of threats, blows, and even murder. Uklein, disgusted by Pobirochin's forbidding his followers to read the Bible, soon fell out with him. In one of the congregational meetings he opposed his father-in-law so violently, that only the alarm raised by the housewife saved him from the clutches of the "angels of death."

     The teachings of the Duchobortsi, independently of Pobirochin's extravagances, are, as I have already pointed out, nearly akin to those of the Quakers, and these same doctrines formed the fundamental stock with which Uklein started when founding his new sect. He, however, reverted to the Bible, which had been somewhat set aside by the Duchobortsi in favor of their inspirations and mystical speculations; and he, moreover, became the associate in propagandism of the head of a widespread Judaizing sect, receiving them into his fold, and adopting some of their tenets, especially the objection to pork. It seems strange that the necessarily confused ideas arising from this mixture achieved a large and rapid success. The fact is, that among the Russian lower classes there is a craving for spiritual food, because the established Church offers them nothing but forms, which, though full of beauty, become mere idolatry in the hands of a drunken and contemptible village clergy, performing the rites mechanically, and without even the pretense of an interest in them. The persecution of Malakanism, on account of its close resemblance to the "pernicious" Duchobortsi creed, also contributed mightily to its spread, which was, moreover, favored by the locality where the new sect originated. The province of Tambov borders on the vast steppe region, stretching from the confines of Asia across the river Volga, which is in some of its southeastern and eastern districts still inhabited by Calmuck, Kirghiz, and Bashkere nomads. The greatest part of that region had, in January, 1771, become nearly empty by the exodus of the Calmuck nation, which, justly alarmed by the establishment of the German colonies, fled into Asia, leaving only a few fragments on the right bank of the river, and entirely deserting the left bank that is to say, the whole wide space between the rivers Volga and Ural. The Kirghiz afterward pressed forward into that space; but up to Uklein's time they had only made some raids into it, ravaging some of the German settlements, and driving the inhabitants and their herds and flocks to Asiatic markets. The German colonists, though by far the densest population of the region, numbered barely thirty thousand, spread over one thousand square miles. The remaining parts of the population were some [page 444] clusters of serfs surrounding their self-exited masters; the sparse descendants of the Astrakhan Tartars and of two Finnish tribes; some Russians in Astrakhan and in the villages along the two branches into which the Volga is here divided; and the Volga Cossacks in widely dispersed stanitzas and isolated farmyards. This region, little interfered with by the Government, was the scene of Uklein's labors after he had left his native province. In the then most completely deserted parts, close to the frontier of Asia, Alexandroff Gai was founded, and received its Malakan settlers from Tambov, whence persecution had driven them. Most of the abovementioned Malakan congregations had a similar origin; but Uklein had also considerable success among the Cossacks and the other peasants, both free and serfs. The Crimea, Grusia, and Siberia, likewise received crowds of Malakani, transported there in order to prevent the infection of more populous localities; and Malakanism, wherever thus planted, continued to propagate itself among its neighbors.

     But why were Uklein's followers called Malakani — a name evidently derived from moloko (milk)? To this question the Russians usually give the absurd answer, "Because the Malakani do not, like the orthodox, abstain from milk on the fast-days of the Church." The fact is, that the name Malakani was originally a popular nickname of the Duchobortsi, [See Livanoff's "Sectarians," vol. III., p. 401] most of them having, by order of the Government, been made to emigrate to the banks of the Moltchnaya (Milk River) in the Crimea; and that the name afterward, apparently in the years 1812 to 1820, shifted over to Uklein's sect, on which it fixed itself so firmly that its real origin is long forgotten. It was, indeed, in the beginning of Uklein's sect, almost impossible for outsiders to distinguish the new sect from the parent stock, especially as both loved to call themselves "Spiritual Christians," and as the professions of faith in both were the same, or nearly the same.

     Between the two sects themselves there has, nevertheless, been not only no renewed connection, but, on the contrary, a continually increasing distance; nor have the Jewish influences been renewed, except on a few isolated spots whence they have not again extended. Thus, by the gradual extinction of the traditions of the two parent sects, and the exclusive prevalence of practical deductions from the Bible, Malakanism has developed itself into a homely Christian philosophy, and has, as such, by its wonderful results, earned universal, unqualified, and well-deserved praise. All the deeper is our regret to observe the numerous and continually increasing symptoms of decay which are at present manifesting themselves. Kissing and spasmodic dancing have made their appearance in the common worship of some congregations; some were, not long ago, under the paramount influence of a prophet, according to trustworthy testimony, a runaway private soldier, born at Alexandroff Gai, who obtained large sums, married in Mormon fashion two young and handsome girls, and at last perished in an attempt to cure himself from inebriety. These movements were and are merely reactions against the indifferentism everywhere setting in — the slackened interest in religious affairs, the waning attendance at congregational devotion. The good treatment of humble dependents, though continued because it has proved profitable, begins to be directed and modified by calculation; drink finds its way into many Malakan homes; nay, there are confirmed drunkards in some of the most prominent and most anciently renowned Malakan families. The concurrence of this decay with the Russian public's admiration of Malakan virtue and the Government's kind interest in it, is by the Malakani themselves admitted to be not accidental. The impetus and bitter relish imparted by persecution appear indeed to have been necessary for the preservation of pure Malakanism, which is else too pale and sober to satisfy even those born and brought up to it.

     The fundamental principle of the laws and regulations directed against sectarianism has outwardly remained nearly the same during the whole century since Malakanism was founded; but in its application there have been very considerable variations, nearly corresponding with the reigns to which they belong. There is, according to the Russian law, to be no constraint upon the conscience; but every attempt to bring about apostasy from the established Church is to be severely punished. The first part of this principle was, in the early years of Malakanism, nothing but a mockery; for every manifestation of sectarianism, its congregational worship more especially, was regarded as an attempt to convert orthodox Christians; and the punishment was, in many cases, the extreme penalty of the Russian law, the knout, followed by penal servitude in the Siberian mines. The lighter punishments were compulsory military service, which then lasted more than twenty years; banishment into the fortresses, to Siberia, Grusia, the Crimea, and other desert provinces; mostly preceded by flogging with the "plet," the short and thickly. plaited horsewhip borrowed from the nomads. More terrible than these lighter punishments was the protracted preliminary inquest, the brutal driving of the prisoners, heavily chained, over long, dreary distances, until they reached the in [page 445] expressibly foul and vile places of temporary confinement, and the iniquitous procedure in which the inquisitor had unlimited power, and the prisoner no right. With the accession of Alexander I., in 1801, there came a mighty change for the better. He declared that persecution merely served to spread and confirm sectarianism, and that the only true means for eradicating it was kindly persuasion and good example. Every case of sectarianism was to be laid before the council of ministers, and, as the Emperor himself took a lively interest in these matters, most of them were brought to his own cognizance; and many such opportunities were made use of for the further development of his enlightened ideas. Especial favor was shown to the Duchobortsi, for whom Alexander, the friend of the Quakers, had an almost unconcealed liking, though pretending to consider their doctrines as the errors of wellmeaning but misled simpletons; and some of that favor also reached the Malakani. Nicholas, on the other hand, believed the established Church to be the mainstay of the state, and naturally considered sectarians, who all regard the orthodox as "idolaters," to be especially dangerous. There were again endless vexations and extortions, and numerous criminal prosecutions leading to banishment, and some to still severer punishments. Alexander II. almost abolished practically though not formally — the criminal treatment of sectarianism. The press was at liberty to praise the Malakani, although the collection of regulations in matters of sectarianism, secretly printed by the Ministry of the Interior at the beginning of the present reign, continued to describe them as an especially pernicious sect — a contradiction which the Malakani could not fail to experience in practice. Thus there was, in Alexandroff Gai, some time after Mr. Wallace's visit, a criminal inquest, because, according to the denunciation of a priest, two orthodox soldiers were said to have been present at a congregational prayer-meeting. The only results, however, were some protocols, and the prayer-meetings continue to be held quite openly. The minor official fry, and even some of the orthodox clergy, are on the very best terms with the Malakani; and officials of good standing, such as Mr. Wallace's traveling companions, do not hide their predilection for the sectarians. The Government itself shows, by the invitation quoted at the beginning of this essay, that it not only understands, but has the courage to acknowledge and utilize, the colonizatory capabilities of the Malakani. The success of this measure is undoubtable, and there is every reason to hope that, in the pursuit of their difficult and noble task, the Malakani will in time get rid of all their recently developed taints.

     G.M. ASHER (Macmillan's Magazine).

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