Take the Volga! Here she is, our dear own mother! With each and every drop of her water she can corroborate our honour and refute the empty blasphemy spattered on us.
Only one hundred years have elapsed, my dear sirs, since Emperor Peter the Great launched decked barks on this river, and now thousands of steamships sail up and down the river.

Who has built them?
The Russian peasant, an utterly unlettered man! All these enormous steamers, barges--whose are they?
Ours! Who has invented them?
We! Everything here is ours, everything here is the fruit of our minds, of our Russian shrewdness, and our great love for action! Nobody has assisted us in anything! We ourselves exterminated piracy on the Volga; at our own expense we hired troops; we exterminated piracy and sent out on the Volga thousands of steamers and various vessels over all the thousands of miles of her course.

Which is the best town on the Volga?
The one that has the most merchants.

Whose are the best houses in town?
The merchants! Who takes the most care of the poor?
The merchant! He collects groshes and copecks, and donates hundreds of thousands of roubles.

Who has erected the churches?
We! Who contributes the most money to the government?
The merchants! Gentlemen! to us alone is the work dear for its own sake, for the sake of our love for the arrangement of life, and we alone love order and life! And he who talks about us merely talks, and that's all! Let him talk! When the wind blows the willow rustles; when the wind subsides the willow is silent; and neither a cart-shaft, nor a broom can be made out of the willow; it is a useless tree! And from this uselessness comes the noise.