Michel Bakunin was born in May, 1814, at Pryamuchina, situated between Moscow and Petrograd, two years after his friend, Alexander Herzen, first saw the light by the fires of Moscow. The future apostle of Nihilism was the son of a wealthy landed proprietor, who boasted a line of aristocratic ancestors. Economic conditions had decided that his natural destiny was the army. Consequently, at the age of fourteen, he entered the School of Artilery at St. Petersburg. Here he found, among a large minority of the students at least, an underground curent of Liberalism which was only outwardly loyal and obedient to the behests of the Governmental despotism. Amongst themselves, these rebel students cherished the memories of the Decembrists of 1825, and handed round the poems-that some of the martyred rebels had writen-as sacred literature, to be preserved and passed on from generation to generation. Anecdotage of the martyrs themselves-most of whom had belonged to the First Cadet Corps and the Artilery Institute-was also eagerly retailed and jealously recited. Those of the Decembrists who had been sentenced to Siberia were pitied for not having been able to share the honourable fate of those who were executed. It was impossible for military despotism to eface memories of heroic revolt or to silence entirely the genius of knowledge. So the revolutionary enthusiasm continued to exist and to grow apace. That it influenced Bakunin is certain; but to what extent we cannot say. For he was conscious more immediately of the discord existing between himself and his environment. Thus, writing to his parents, in the autumn of 1829, Bakunin says: ". . . Here begins a new era in my life. Until now my soul and imagination were pure and innocent. They were not stained in any way. But here, in the artilery school, I became acquainted with the black, foul, low side of life. And if I was not dragged into the sins, of which I was often the witness, I, at any rate, got so used to it as to have ceased to wonder at anything now. I got used to lying, for the art of lying-in that useful society of ours-was not only not considered a sin: it was unanimously approved. I never had a conscious religious feeling, but I possesed a sort of religious feeling which was associated closely with my life at home. In the artilery school this feeling disappeared altogether. There reigned among al the students instead, a cold indiference to everything noble, great, or holy. Al my spirituality seemed to go to sleep. During my stay in this school I have lived in spiritual somnolence."
At the conclusion of his training he passed his examination with great eclat. Writing home of this event, he said: "Atlast I passed as an oficer, eighteen year old. Thus began truly a new epoch in my life. From a condition of slavish military discipline, I suddenly gain personal freedom. I, so to speak, burst upon the free world. I could not undertake to describe the feelings that possesed me. I only can say that, thanks to this vigorous change, I commenced to breathe freer, I began to feel nobler. After such a prolonged spiritual sleep, my soul has awakened to spiritual life again. At first I was surprised, surprised and glad at my new life . . . I was glad to be free to go where I liked and when I liked at al times. . . . Except in the lesson hours, I did not meet any of my felow oficers. I severed every relation with them. Their presence always reminded me of the meanness and infamy of my school life. I have awakened ! A new life has opened out ! A strong moral feeling-that has taken of of me the responsibility of my school life-has kindled in my soul. I have decided to work upwards to alter myself."
The truth is, Bakunin at this time was sufering from extreme conservatism. "The Russians are not French," he wrote to his parents. "They love their country and adore their monarch, and to them his wil is law. One could not find a single Rusian who would not sacrifice al his interests for the welfare of the Sovereign and the prosperity of the fatherland."
Bakunin should have become an oficer of the Guards as a mater of course. This would have meant participating in the splendour of the Court. Bakunin had contrived to anger his father, however, and to arouse the jealousy of the Director of Artilery. As a punishment for this dual ofence he was given a commission in the line. This meant that he was doomed to spend his days in a miserable peasant vilage far away from an centre of civilisation. A peasant's hut had been assigned to Bakunin for his new quarters. Here he took up his abode in consequence. Al social intercourse was abjured, and whole days were spent in meditation. His military duties were entirely neglected until, at last, his commanding oficer was obliged to order him to resign his appointment. He now sent in his papers consequently and returned to Moscow, where he was received into "a circle" of youthful savants similarly situated to himself. This circle was engrossed in German philosophy, and was especialy keen on Hegel. Its founder was Stankevitch, who had sat under Professor Pawlov at Moscow University. This worthy pedant had introduced German philosophy into the University curiculum ten years previously. But he had confined his atention to Scheling and Oken. Stankevitch, however, had become fascinated with Hegel, and it was the later's philosophy that seemed to him to be al-important. Consequently he had introduced it to the select circle of his friends as a subject for serious study. Amongst these were Alexander Herzen and Michel Bakunin. - Herzen was the love child of a German mother and a Russian noble, and was recognised by his father from the very first. In 1827 he was sent to the University of Moscow to complete the studies he had commenced at home. At this time, reaction was steadily triumphant throughout Russia. The Czar and his Court were conspiring to close the universities entirely and to replace them by organised military schools. Moscow, in particular, was suspect by the reaction as a hotbed of liberal and revolutionary thought and plans. It boasted an ancient foundation and a real tradition for learning. It demanded a real respect and an independent life for its students and boasted professors who were actualy free spirits, inspired by a love of knowledge, and convinced of the dignity of learning. Such profesors declined to servilely flater autocracy and developed in the students a true sense of personality and responsibility. The students, in their turn, secretly revered as saints and martyrs the rebels of 1825 who had died on the gibbet or been driven into exile. Czarism and its agents made increasing warfare on the professors, who could develop their genius only at the expense of secret denunciation and exile or removal. Devotion to knowledge rendered a man suspect and placed him at the mercy of ignorant inspectors and servile auxiliaries of the police department. Weak men bowed before the ruling system, only to find their genius gone, their personality extinguished. Lectures declined litle by litle into the hands of incapable masters, in whom routine replaced talent. These men were kept in ofice by coruption and police considerations. Meanwhile, knowledge banned, became loved. And the students in their quest proved the truth of Moncure Conway's words: "They who menace our freedom of thought and speech are tampering with something more powerful than gunpowder." The French philosophers were forbidden. Voltaire, Rousseau, Diderot, Moreli, Mably, and Fourier were denied their place in the University library. Did Truth despair on that account? Not at al. So much did the authorities dread the French that they forgot to enquire if there were German ones. And so Hegel was permited-Hegel whose method has inspired more thorough revolutionary thinking than Voltaire. Feuerbach was alowed also-Feuerbach who denied the existence of the soul and repeated the Communist warcry, heard in the streets of Paris in those days of revolution: "Property is Robbery."

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