Littell's Living Age/Volume 146/Issue 1884/The Slavonic Menace to Europe

The Slavonic Menace to Europe. ^[1]

The relations of England and Russia have been so unamiable during the last few years, they have been so embittered by angry discussion, and so aggravated by continual recrimination, that it is impossible not to feel grateful to any one who comes forward animated by an honest desire to amend them. Such professedly is the object of the work that stands at the head of this article, called "Russia and England." Mr. Froude, in some observations prefixed to the volume, informs us that it is written by "a Russian lady, under the initials of O. K.," and the sex of the author serves both to pique curiosity and to put the reader in a proper frame of mind for receiving what he is assured are friendly approaches. It will perhaps be thought that Mr. Froude is hardly the person to serve to introduce a friendly ambassador from the Russian people. If we remember rightly, Mr. Froude has more than once expressed himself with his usual decision upon the merits of the controversy between the friends and the opponents of Russia; and we get no further than the second page of his prefatory remarks before being reminded that we are listening to an uncompromising partisan. Alluding to the danger of a collision between the two countries, when the Russian armies menaced Constantinople, and the English fleet forced the Dardanelles and entered the Sea of Marmora, Mr. Froude observes: —

The moderation of Russia prevented so frightful a calamity. The Treaty of San Stefano was modified, and the English Cabinet, if it won no victory in war, was able to boast, with or without reason, of a diplomatic triumph. Continental statesmen could no longer speak of the effacement of England as a European power. England had shown that she had the will and strength to interfere where she chose, and when she chose. But the question remains whether our interference answered a useful purpose, or whether in effect we had proved more than a boy proves who shows that he cannot be prevented from laying a bar across a railway, and converting a useful express train into a pile of splinters and dead bodies.

It might have been thought that "splinters and dead bodies" were portions of a figure of speech more applicable to the authors of the Russian campaign against Turkey, than to the persons who put an end to that sanguinary conflict by the pacific labors of the Congress. But Mr. Froude, with praiseworthy candor, proceeds to instruct us as to the cause of the singular confusion of mind and metaphor to be observed in the foregoing passage. He thus continues: —

It is hard to credit that the English Tory party really believes that Russian autocracy is dangerous to rational liberty. The love of the Tory party for liberty has not hitherto been of so violent a kind. My own early years were spent among Tories, and Russia I heard spoken of among them as the main support that was left of sound principles of government. Docile as they are under the educating hand of their chief, the country gentlemen of England cannot have fallen into their present attitude towards Russia on (sic) political conviction. I interpret their action as no more than a passing illustration of the working of government by party. Having obtained power, they wish to keep it. They have seen an opportunity of making themselves popular by large talk about English dignity, and by appeals to the national susceptibility. The interests of Europe, the interests of Asia, have been simply used as cards and counters in a game where the stake played for is the majority at the next election.

We are unable to say who the Tories were among whom Mr. Froude passed his early years, and who considered Russia the main support of sound principles of government. But we are all aware who were the Liberals among whom Mr. Froude spent his manhood. They were Earl Russell, Lord Palmerston, Mr. Gladstone, Sir James Graham, and the late Lord Herbert, who, it is generally supposed, entertained for Russia so little sympathy, that they caused this country to embark in a bloody and costly war, in order to baffle the fulfilment of her schemes. Their conduct was popular, though we are not aware that any one, even Mr. Froude, imputed to them the desire to "make themselves popular" by talk about English dignity and English interests. We fear Mr. Froude is as in discreet in his innuendoes as he is paradoxical in his metaphors. It would not be fair, however, to condemn, or even to judge, a work written by a Russian lady, for the purpose of reconciling the conflicting claims of England and Russia, by the tenor of introductory remarks written by an Englishman, whose preface from the first word to the last may justly be regarded as "no more than a passing illustration of the working of government by party." It will be well, therefore, to dismiss and forget Mr. Froude, and to devote our attention to the substance of the volume.

In O. K. we have to deal with no novice. She has mastered our language with conspicuous success. She expostulates as easily as she reproaches; and she exhibits as much facility in barbing shafts of satire, as in framing specious excuses for daring acts of diplomacy. Shall we be forgiven if we venture to hint further that O. K., besides being a patriotic Russian, has enjoyed special opportunities of becoming acquainted not only with the central objects of Russian policy, but also with the peculiar means by which they are promoted? No doubt she tells us the truth; but perhaps she is too practised a diplomatist to tell us the whole truth.

We are merely repeating an open secret when we say that O. K. is Madame Olga de Novikoff. Her parents were the late Alexis de Kiréeff, a Russian noble, owning estates in the provinces of Moscow and Tamboff, and Alexandrine his wife, a lady of equal birth, who still lives and retains traces of the extraordinary beauty which had won her in the days of her youth an almost European renown.

The children of that marriage were: Alexander de Kiréeff, Nicholas de Kiréeff, and Olga de Kiréeff. For all three children the late emperor Nicholas stood godfather. Alexander de Kiréeff is a general officer, attached to the staff of the grand duke Constantine. Nicholas de Kiréeff attained the rank of colonel in the cavalry of the Imperial Guard, and, after having quitted the army, became a volunteer in the war undertaken by Servia in 1876, where he died at the head of the brigade he commanded. An account of his death is given by Mr. Kinglake, with his usual vividness of description, in the preface to the first volume of the last edition of his "History of the Crimean War." Olga de Kiréeff, now Olga de Novikoff, the writer of this book, is the wife of a Russian noble, Ivan de Novikoff, a general officer, formerly attached to the staff of the grand duke Nicholas, and afterwards adjoint curator (what we should call vice-chancellor) of the University of Kieff. She resides with her husband at Moscow, and there, with him, watches over the education of their only son. The brother of Madame Olga de Novikoff's husband is Eugenius de Novikoff, formerly Russian ambassador at the court of Vienna, and now Russian ambassador at Constantinople. In 1871 Madame Olga de Novikoff made a lengthened sojourn with her brother-in-law at the Russian embassy in Vienna; and her activity inclining her to take part intellectually in political conversation, and even to offer to copy despatches, she insensibly became familiarized with the current business of diplomacy. But she also did what was a thousand times more important, for she formed a close friendship — a friendship which has never since waned — with Count Beust, the then prime minister of the dual empire; and, though it may be only a coincidence, it is a fact that, that so long as she remained at the Austrian capital, there was an unwonted cordiality between the cabinets of St. Petersburg and Vienna. Monsieur Eugenius de Novikoff was in those days, as now, a steady-going diplomatist with a very imperfect sense of the ridiculous; and Vienna amused itself by learning that, when the prime minister addressed a charming copy of verses to Madame Olga de Novikoff at the embassy, its chief maintained with diplomatic solemnity that the paper was a "document," and that, far from remaining shut up in a small fragrant desk, with what women call their "treasures," it must go into the chancellery, be copied and re-copied, and sent off to St. Petersburg under a "covering and congratulatory despatch," and finally repose in majesty with the "archives" of the Russian embassy!

The representative of Russia at Vienna was obliged to correspond with General Ignatieff, the ambassador at Constantinople, and with consuls and other persons carrying on some very singular intrigues but it is believed that, as a steady-going diplomatist, sincerely attached to the maintenance of peace, he hated the Panslav agitation, and would gladly have seen it stopped. The time was still five years distant when, instead of praising his sister-in-law for conducing to peace and good-will, he would see in her one of the furies that Moscow had let loose against St. Petersburg to urge it into war.

It was after her long, active sojourn at the Russian embassy in Vienna, that Madame Olga de Novikoff formed the habit of coming every year for a certain period to England; and, although she almost always selected a time when the ignorant vowed there was "no human being in town," her arrival used to be marked by a simultaneous gathering of her friends brought together by some sort of magic in that very London which people supposed to be empty, and her audience — the elders especially — used to find the glad sunshine for which they had longed, in her brightness and her radiant spirit.

Before long her splendid activity found vent in a curious Church enterprise. Acting rather, it would seem, from political motives than from any religious anxiety, she undertook to exalt and expand the "schism" of those who in Germany profess to stand out against Rome, and pass under the name of "Old Catholics." Her ulterior purpose, it seems, was to fuse these "Old Catholics" with her own Church — the Church of the East — and to end by throwing into the cauldron all that tempting rich slice of Christendom which follows the Anglican worship. With the "Old Catholics" in Germany her success was intermittent; for, although, when she came to Munich, there was always a great ebullition of schismatic energy, this invariably seemed to die out as soon as she turned her back, only to revive when next year she came again from the East.

With English ecclesiastics she had a greater and more continuous success; for some of them under her influence gave up the "filioque" at once, whilst others said they would rather leave its retention a kind of "open question."

Before she had drawn round the globe that zone of "Panorthodox" schism, which she seemed to have planned, her zeal was diverted into a new channel by the course of events. She had long been imbibing at Moscow the heavenly nectar of Panslav doctrine; and when Servia grew so ripe for war that the priests of the Church were already "blessing" Prince Milan's new batteries, she began to direct her religion into a similar channel, and forgetting her Munich schismatics, to perform the more warlike duties imposed by a philoslav conscience.

When her brother Nicholas was drawn to the scene of action, she at once placed her powerful energies on the side of his choice; and, so soon as she learned how he had died at the head of his brigade, she devoted her whole heart and soul to "the cause," that is, to the object of engaging her country in a cruel war.

Nor indeed, as we now know too well, was she powerless in advancing her purpose. It so happened that during several months the key of the position was here; because England united would have certainly prevented war, and accordingly the hope, the sole hope, of the Russian disturbers of peace was to keep our people divided. To this end Madame de Novikoff largely contributed, for she not only lent animation and strength of will to a scattered political party ill-versed in foreign affairs, but — being accurate in her facts and familiar, to say the least, with the Russian side of the chess-board — she was able to give public men the sort of guidance they needed, and to save them from awkward mistakes.

But she did more. The fine qualities that had never failed to make her society charming, enabled her to keep unimpaired the strong attachment of friends with whom she had once been acting; and, though forced by stress of new tasks to neglect her ecclesiastical duties, she not only retained the regard of the gifted Anglican Churchmen whose faith she had moulded, but brought them with their great pulpit eloquence to reinforce the opponents of a hampered, embarrassed government. Thus, whilst Russian heart and soul, and yearning not only for war but for havoc and conquest, she was also in substance a member — an able and most combative member — of that English Opposition, which — thanks in part to her aid — has won its election battle, and is now, whilst we write, about to assume the coveted burthen and responsibilities of office.

From her own point of view, all she did was quite fair, nay, openly, fiercely straightforward; for she not only did not deceive or even attempt to cajole, but on the contrary struck out right and left against all who presumed to resist the holy Panslav crusade, and besides, in her eagerness, as we see from this book, she makes bold to tell us some truths that St. Petersburg would like to conceal. We may add that her work has been forbidden in Russia.

Its purpose is to justify her country and its government in our eyes, and to show us how our own conduct is looked at in Russia. The result, she trusts, will be to heal our differences, to make us good friends. It is a true feminine remedy. When Martial wrote, —

                         Sit non doctissima conjux,
          Sit nox cum somno, sit sine lite dies,

it is probable he had in his mind the controversial days and the sleepless nights that may be caused by a female companion too anxious to carry her point. Men as a rule are disposed to think the best way to compose a quarrel is, not to discuss its causes, but to forget them, not to argue, but to observe a self-denying silence. But when a lady wishes us to "talk it all over," is it possible to refuse?

In "some last words," the authoress asks why England and Russia cannot be friends. The animosity, she says, which exists between them has been sedulously fostered by interested parties, and is a reproach to the intelligence of both communities. Neither has anything to gain, and each has much to lose, by substituting hatred for cordiality and suspicion for confidence. She declares that the Russian people have been reluctantly driven into an attitude of antagonism to England, and that they would gladly hail any prospect of escape from that involuntary position.

Assurances of this character are eminently praiseworthy; and O. K. may rest assured that there are few Englishmen by whom they would not be reciprocated, were their sincerity completely established. But it requires no diligent examination of her volume to convince us that even her own conciliatory temper is hardly skin-deep. She is perpetually betraying the more profound and genuine sentiments by which she is animated.

Is it so strange to Englishmen [she asks] that there should be two Russias? Are there not two Englands? The England that is true to English love of liberty, and the England that sees in liberty itself only a text for a sneer? There is the England of St. James's Hall, and the England of the Guildhall. An England with a soul and a heart, and in England which has only a pocket. In other words, there is the England of Mr. Gladstone, and the England of Lord Beaconsfield. We Russians, too, have our sordid cynics, but they are in a minority. They may sneer, but they cannot rule; and, with that distinction, let me conclude by saying that those St. Petersburg Tchinovniks, whose views Mr. Wallace reproduces, are now what they have always been, the Beaconsfields of Russia.

It would be useless to enquire whether this be an accurate description of England. But if it be, it is obvious that neither fair play nor reason, much less generosity, is to be expected from a nation in which sordid cynics are not in a minority. But, unfortunately, the authoress leads us to suspect that the England of Mr. Gladstone is not very much better than the England of Lord Beaconsfield. Perhaps it is hardly fair to expect a lady to remember, at page 277, what she said at page 14. But there is nothing so instructive as a certain form of forgetfulness. What will the England of Mr. Gladstone, the England with a soul and a heart, say to the following naive avowal, which follows a speculation concerning the accession of a Liberal ministry to office in this country?

It might be better, and could not possibly be worse. But to imagine that Russians generally entertain great hopes of the entente cordiale with England if the Liberals return to power, is decidedly a mistake. The majority attribute the speeches of the Opposition to party spirit, and, I regret to say, are very sceptical as to the reality of Liberal devotion to the cause of the Christians of the East.

But the authoress has a yet more dismal and disappointing confession to make. Even Mr. Gladstone himself has failed to inspire the Russian people with confidence in the purity of his intentions. Speaking of the hope some Russians once entertained of a friendly understanding between the two countries, she exclaims:

I still have that hope; but unfortunately the exigencies of party warfare in England have led to its abandonment by many Russians. The article on "The Friends and Foes of Russia," by Mr. Gladstone, was no doubt an effective polemic. It may have served an excellent party purpose to have retorted on the Conservatives their utterly unfounded charge of undue predilection for Russia; but its effect was anything but excellent in Russia. A slight from a friend is worse than a blow from a foe. To many Russians it seemed as if Mr. Gladstone, the only foreign statesman whom they had regarded with absolute confidence and esteem, was repudiating almost as an insult the charge that he entertained friendly feelings for their country.

But O. K. still finds balm in Gilead. It is a curious thing, she remarks, that Englishmen out of Parliament are more courageous in avowing their sympathies and opinions, than those who have parties and constituencies to humor; and she comforts herself by quoting an uncompromising confession of admiration of Russia from Dr. Sandwith! The descent is somewhat startling; and we can hardly be surprised that, when once convinced that Conservatives are "sordid cynics," and Liberals too much engaged in "effective polemics" and "party purposes" to give vent to their real feelings, O. K. should finally let us know what the Russian people, herself among them, really think of our policy and our power.

The other warlike demonstrations that followed [she writes at page 91] frighten perhaps some old English ladies, but here they raise only a good-natured smile. The handful of your Reserves — about one army corps — give us a very pacific view of your warlike threats. Surely you do not think that forty thousand of Reserves can terrify a military empire that counts its soldiers not by tens, hut by hundreds of thousands? … But what amuses me and fills me with doubts whether the England which I know and love so well has not disappeared altogether, is the delusion that Russians are to be frightened into compliance with Lord Beaconsfield's dictates by the sudden apparition of your Indian soldiers. Chinese rather like demonstrations of this sort, and employ pasteboard dragons and shields painted with horrible demons to frighten European soldiers. Why should Lord Beaconsfield imitate the Chinese?

The England I love so well! Women are said sometimes to dissemble their warmer feelings; and possibly under all her scorn, O. K. may conceal a burning affection for the English empire and the English people. But we fear the "England of Lord Beaconsfield" will fail to pierce through this delicate dissimulation, and will conclude that, like Mr. Gladstone himself, she confounds England and its prime minister in a common dislike, inwardly exclaiming, —

Rome enfin, que je hais parce qu'elle t'honore.

But though we may be unable to convince ourselves of the existence of any deep-seated desire, on the part of the Russian government, or of that portion of the Russian people who participate in the formation of public opinion, to establish friendly relations with this country of a sincere and disinterested character; and though even in O. K., who professes to entertain for us an affectionate regard, we may fail to discern the ordinary indications of such a sentiment, we feel satisfied that we are representing the feeling of nearly all Englishmen when we say that they bear Russia no grudge, nourish against her no unworthy jealousy, and will be only too well pleased to "let bygones be bygones," and to return to that attitude of reasonable sympathy which prevailed during the first half of the present century, and was interrupted only by the events which led to the Crimean War. Undoubtedly the suspicions of this country were aroused by the aggressive and domineering tone of the emperor Nicholas in 1853 and 1854; and they were revived by the policy which Russia pursued from the date of the Berlin Memorandum down to the publication of the preliminaries of San Stefano. We should be gratified to think that we had now entered upon a period when our suspicions might sleep and our anxieties be dismissed.

Unfortunately, the works whose names stand at the head of this article — and that more especially for which we are indebted to O. K. — forbid us to sink into so easy a temper. England is satisfied with the Treaty of Berlin. We have no further controversy with the Russian government in Europe, and we trust that we shall soon have no further controversy with Russia in Asia. But if England is satisfied, Russia is not. The Russian government may display a perfect deference to the decisions of the Congress of Berlin; and we have no wish to imply that the deference is not sincere. But O. K. tells us, as we have seen, that there are "two Russias;" and before we get to the end of our task, it will appear that there are more than two Russias. The"two Russias" referred to by her are official Russia, or the Russian government, and national Russia, or the Panslavonic party. It was the latter which, as both O. K. and the author of "Russia Before and After the War" assure us, and conclusively demonstrate, caused the late war, and will infallibly cause another war. It forced the hand of the czar in 1876, and it will force his hand again. Its present attitude was well expressed a few weeks back by the Prague Panslavonic journal, the Politik: —

Even the last war for the emancipation of the Balkan States was engaged in by the czar with reluctance and hesitation; but the Russian people were bent upon it, and so it had to be undertaken. His Majesty's subjects accepted the Peace of San Stefano, but they have not accepted the Berlin Treaty, and the Russian government will therefore he forced to get it revised. These are facts and pressing necessities concerning which no mistake must be made.

Now what is Panslavism, and whence are we to deduce its origin? It is as difficult to assign the exact date of its birth as it is to fix the parentage of Nihilism. These two powerful influences in Russian politics and Russian society have sometimes seemed to be identical, sometimes independent, sometimes actually and actively antagonistic. Indeed the pioneers of the Russian revolutionary party seemed constantly to hesitate whether they should direct their energies to the advancement of the entire human race, or concentrate them upon their own country. "My fullest and most ardent sympathies," wrote Michael Bakunin as late as 1862, "will be directed, as before, to the liberation of mankind in general; but what remains to me now of life and activity" — he was then only forty-eight — "I intend to restrict exclusively to the service of Russians, Poles, and Slavs. Of all Slav nationalities, that of Great Russia alone has understood how to preserve its nationality. Let us therefore banish the Tartars to the East, and the Germans to Germany. Let us be a free and purely Russian nation."

In the following year, in common with other advocates of the Slav cause, he found himself in a most embarrassing position. In January 1863 occurred the celebrated insurrection in Poland; and a choice had to be made between the insurgents, who were under the direction of aristocrats and Roman Catholic priests, and the government, which for the moment represented Slav unity. Bakunin and Herzen decided to support the Poles; the former soon going so far as to exhort Russian officers to desert their colors and join the rebels. The consequence was that both he and Herzen forfeited all the influence they had acquired with their countrymen, and Panslavism turned to other leaders.

In Vladimir Alexandrovitch Tcherkasski it found a man of a different stamp from the literary dreamers and political cosmopolitans, who could not even agree among themselves. Tcherkasski was born in 1821, and twenty years later was finishing his studies at the University of Moscow, then, as now, regarded askance by the authorities, and considered to be infected with restless and revolutionary ideas. A former officer in the Guards, Chomjäkoff by name, Juri Samarin, Constantine and Ivan Aksakoff, and others whose names have not become so familiar to the public, used to meet regularly at the house of the elder Aksakoff in Moscow, for the purpose of discussing the most promising means for liberating Russian civilization from the aggressive influences of western Europe. Into this circle young Tcherkasski was soon admitted. He is described in those days as tall, fair, and muscular, of lofty manners, sharp and ready wit, great self-confidence, cool, sceptical, and an excellent linguist. Yet it is said that, though not a little esteemed by his associates, he was never loved by them. The Slav is an amiable enthusiast; and of Tcherkasski neither enthusiasm nor special amiability could be asserted. On leaving the university, he betook himself to his estates, dividing his time between them and Moscow. He sought for no employment from the government; and his dissatisfaction with the incapacity and corruption of the bureaucracy was too notorious for the government to make any advances towards him. He was biding his time; and with the death of Nicholas it came.

When Alexander II. declared his intention of emancipating the serfs, Tcherkasski emerged from his seclusion, and made no secret of his preference for communal property, and for a scheme of redemption of the Iand that should secure to the peasants something more than mere personal liberty. These opinions recommended him to the emperor, who summoned him to St. Petersburg to take part in revising the proposed edict of emancipation, and nominated him one of the members of the committee of organization. He was entirely without administrative experience; but he professed the nationalist principles which were at the moment fashionable even at St. Petersburg. His self-consciousness and conceit had not dwindled; and he was regarded as a man "who knew everything, could do everything, and shrank from no hazard."

The character he had thus won for himself caused him to be remembered when all hopes of conciliating the Poles had to be abandoned, and when Miliutin was entrusted with the task of correcting the too indulgent rule of the Polish Marquis Wielopolski. Miliutin's first act was to declare the Russification of Poland a national duty, to exclude all Poles from any share in the administration of their country, and to introduce into Warsaw an army of young officials imbued with the sacred gospel of Panslavism. Tcherkasski was sent for, and made chancellor of state and director of the government commission for internal and ecclesiastical affairs. He entered upon his task with eagerness, declaring that he had come to Poland "to uproot Latindom and replace it by a thoroughly Slav civilization." He showed the thoroughness of his intentions by endorsing afresh one of his old sayings, that "a Greek-orthodox atheist is always better than a Catholic believer." When a Polish proprietor craved permission to repair a Catholic church which was falling into decay, Tcherkasski replied that its ruin could not be regarded as an accident but rather as a piece of good luck. His proceedings are well described by the author of "Russia Before and After the War."

Institutions which it had cost ten years to establish were removed or remodelled in as many days. Whole libraries of new law and ordinances were published to the world. Agrarian regulations were issued, which ruined the nobles without enriching the peasants. Bishops were deposed and schools closed. Attempts were even made to abolish by decree the Latin alphabet and substitute for it the Cyrillic. … Backed up by public opinion, lauded daily in the Moscow Gazette as the missionary of the good cause, and furnished by Miliutin with almost unlimited power, the prince for a while could give free rein to his disposition for absolute autocracy.

To Count Berg, the Adlatus of the grand duke Constantine as viceroy of Poland, these extravagant proceedings were repugnant in the extreme. Of German extraction, a soldier and an aristocrat, Count Berg entertained an invincible aversion to national and liberal experiments. He labored to get Tcherkasski recalled; but his efforts were for a time baffled by the influence of Miliutin. In December Miliutin had an apoplectic seizure, and his illness was soon followed by the disgrace of Tcherkasski. He hastened to St. Petersburg to avert the blow which he felt was impending. There he met with so cold a reception, that he offered his resignation to the emperor. It was accepted. He hastened to Moscow, and was received with open arms by Ivan Aksakoff, Katkoff, and the other members of the great national party. He had become a patriot and a martyr; and when, in May 1865, the ethnological exhibition, arranged by the national or Slav party, was opened at Moscow, Tcherkasski figured as an important personage. Reconciliation," he said on this occasion, "will only be possible when the provinces of the Vistula renounce all idea of separate existence. When Poland, not in a spirit of defiance, but as the repentant prodigal of Scripture, humbly returns to the paternal roof, then, but not before, we will open our pardoning arms to receive her. … Poland's future depends upon the Poles themselves; Russia owes her nothing."

Such were the antecedents of the man who, in November 1876, when the command of the armies operating against Turkey was divided between the grand dukes Nicholas and Michael, was nominated civil commissioner and chief of the civil administration for the army of the Danube. The appointment had long been decided on; and great was the joy of the Slav Committee and the Slav Benevolent Society, when the announcement was made. It was the open recognition of their influence; and the central committee of the Red Cross Society appointed him as their general plenipotentiary. Yet it may be doubted if Tcherkasski intended to lend himself entirely to the intentions and aspirations of the Panslavonic party. He surrounded himself with young officers of the Guard, and he openly proclaimed the opinion, that the liberation and reorganization of Bulgaria must be accomplished without Bulgarian co-operation, "by Russian instruments and according to a Russian plan."

Not even the semblance of an active share in the administration was allowed the natives. Not one of the educated Bulgarians, who tendered their services to the Russian government, received a post of any importance. The authorities had settled once for all that this people were fit for nothing; that the idea of granting them autonomy or a constitution was absurd; and that a strong Russian dictatorship was wanted to develop among their Bulgarian brethren the capacity for genuine Slavonic freedom. (Russia Before and After the War, p. 172.)

Tcherkasski died before the Russian armies crossed the Balkans; so it is impossible to say what part he would have played had he lived to see them compelled by European treaty to retire from the Balkan peninsula, and the Russian government obliged to leave the organization of Bulgaria to the Bulgarians themselves. But it would seem that his chief merit in the eyes of the czar and the court was his apparent willingness to subordinate his Slavonic aspirations to the maintenance and extension of Russian sway.

When the Constantinople Conference came to an abortive termination, Russian policy was subjected to the influence of three distinct parties. The czar and his official advisers were almost to a man in favor of a policy of caution, and, if possible, of peace. They dreaded the consequences of allowing the direction of affairs to be taken out of their hands, which they saw would infallibly be the case if they committed themselves to a war undertaken at the bidding of Servia, the Slavs of Bulgaria, and the patriots of Moscow. At the head of this latter party were Prince Tcherkasski; Ivan Aksakoff, president of what had formerly been known as the Slav Committee, but now boasted the more pacific but more misleading designation of the Moscow Society of Benevolence; Katkoff, the editor of the Moscow Gazette; and others whose notoriety has not travelled beyond Russia. Their adherents were numerous in the army, among the clergy, and among the younger race of officials. They likewise commanded the sympathies of the trading class, and they had contrived to work upon the religious feelings of a considerable portion of the rural population. The third party were revolutionists pure and simple, Nihilists who had learned their lesson from Bakunin, and who regarded the manipulation and unification of the Slav race as a preliminary to the liberation of mankind from law and superstition. Against the co-operation of these two active influences the government contended in vain. For a time the statesmen of St. Petersburg looked with displeasure on the volunteers who returned from the conflict in the south wearing Servian uniforms; yet the order to mobilize the Russian army was given to prevent Servia from being overwhelmed. The declaration of war by the czar against Turkey carefully eschewed any acknowledgment that it was undertaken on behalf of the cause for which Tchernayeff had labored and Kiréeff died; but the whole world knew that it was the battles fought between the Danube and the Timok, which compelled the czar at length to set his armies in motion. The words pronounced by Alexander II. at the Kremlin in November 1876 were eagerly pounced upon by the war party; M. Aksakoff hastening to declare that "the historical conscience of Russia spoke from the lips of the czar." The following extract from one of his speeches, delivered before war was declared, gives us an instructive glimpse into the agencies the Russian government began by tolerating, and ended by obeying.

Perhaps [he said in a speech delivered on the 18th of March, 1877] I have alluded too frequently to the emperor's words; but I do not hesitate to say that they are a great event in the history of the present time. In the grey joyous twilight which surrounds us — in that chaos of contradictory aspirations and activity, in that lassitude of expectation from which all Russia is suffering — these words alone shine through the darkness to encourage and to guide us. They contain a whole programme of action. These words, and the unanimous, spontaneous popular expression of fraternal love for the oppressed Slavs, form such historical landmarks that, if we only let ourselves be guided by them, we cannot lose our way, and cannot fail to fulfil our mission, whatever obstacles we may have to encounter. In the spirit of these indications the Slav Committee has always acted. Though we have found little to console us in the last four months of our activity, still we believe that the seed sown has not fallen in vain on the Russian and Slavonian soil, and that one day it will bear fruit. Let us not lose courage or relax our exertions. Let us rather redouble our efforts to alleviate the bodily and spiritual sufferings of the orthodox Slavs, to strengthen our common religious and moral solidarity, to uphold the dignity and honor of the Russian name in the unequal struggle with enemies abroad and at home — a struggle with ignorance and prejudice, and with voluntary and involuntary treason to Russian nationality among Russians themselves. May the historic mission of Russia be fulfilled. Behind us is the people, before us the czar's words spoken at the Kremlin!

It is not necessary to read between the lines to discern in these eloquent words the relation in which the government and the Slav Committee stood towards each other. As O. K. courageously avows, "the Slav Committees, it is said, have brought about this war, an accusation of which I am proud." St. Petersburg, she declares, is not Russian at all it is only what Peter the Great, in a very different sense, declared it to be, "a window out of which Russia could look out upon the western world." She protests that it does not feel the fierce, warm current of Russia's life-blood. St. Petersburg did its best to avert the war. "It sneered," she goes on to say, "at our Servian volunteers — nay, if it had had its way, it would have arrested them as malefactors. Those who first went to Servia on their heroic mission were compelled to smuggle themselves, as it were, out of the country, for fear of the interference of officialism at St. Petersburg. St. Petersburg would, if it could, have suppressed our committees." It failed; and then, by the evidence of the same witness, "all Russia, emperor, government, and all, became but one vast Slavonic committee for the liberation of the southern Slavs." WeIl might M. Aksakoff blow a note of triumph when, on April 24th, war was declared. "The slumbering East," he exclaimed, "is now awakened; and not only the Slavs of the Balkans, but the whole Slavonic world, awaits its regeneration. A new epoch is approaching; the dawn of the great Slavonic day has at length begun to break." The Nihilists were equally delighted, for they felt confident that either victory or defeat would equally cause their dawn to break. "When the imperial eagle of Byzantium," said Herzen, "returns to its fatherland, it will disappear from Russia. When Constantinople is won, then the iron sceptre of Peter I. must break, for it cannot be lengthened to reach to the Dardanelles … St. Petersburg is colder, but also softer than Constantinople, and the emperor Nicholas did wisely in 1829 not to go there."

The series of repulses experienced by the Russian troops before Plevna naturally encouraged the St. Petersburg politicians who had opposed the war to recall their admonitions to the mind of their more heedless countrymen. What have we to do, they asked, with Slavs, Bulgarians, and Servians? We are Russians, and ought to think first of the interests of Russia. Why should we go about liberating others, when we have anxieties and misfortunes of our own in abundance? We exerted ourselves to the utmost to prevent an insane war forced upon the government by fanatics and journalists, but we were set aside; and the consequence is patent to all. But to these reproaches the Slav Committees had a reply ready. After declaring that "there exists an orthodox Slavonic world, not yet fully created, but capable of being created, and awaiting its concrete historical form," their eloquent spokesman, M. Aksakoff, thus went on: —

Our Conservatives have done all in their power to deprive the war of its true significance, and to repress all manifestations of the Russian popular spirit, by forbidding the use of such words as Orthodox and Slavdom. There lies the chief cause of our defeats.

Then, turning to the Conservatives, he thus apostrophized them: —

Your conceptions are narrow. Ready to lay down your life in the struggle with Europe for the outward dignity and independence of the empire, you at the same time slavishly prostrate yourselves in spirit before European civilization and the moral authority of the 'West. Dying at Shipka or Plevna you sow with your blood the seeds of a new Slavonic orthodox world, the very name of which was distasteful to you during your lifetime. O, you who know how to die, but do not know how to live as Russians, will you ever awake and remember who you are?

It is not easy to conceive what sort of a peace would have been considered satisfactory by persons avowing such sentiments as these; but there is no difficulty in understanding the rage, resentment, and despair they experienced, when they learned the result of the labors of the Congress. Even the Preliminaries of San Stefano failed to content them; and if they exhibited any disposition to yield their assent, it was only on the assumption that they were receiving but an instalment of their demands, and under the self-flattering consciousness that Russia was displaying a moderation unparallelled in the history of war diplomacy. That the Preliminaries of San Stefano were an irreducible minimum they never doubted. In order to acquire a just conception of the feelings awakened by their discovery that the Preliminaries of San Stefano were a corpus vile for the plenipotentiaries of Europe to trim, pare, and lop as they thought fit, we must once more have recourse to the patriotic eloquence of M. Aksakoff.

There are no words by which to characterize as it deserves this shameful treachery to the duty and historical mission of Russia. Consenting to the division of Bulgaria, and giving up Bosnia to Austria, is equivalent to renouncing the past of Russia as the great protecting power of Slavism and Eastern Christianity. Even the most malevolent enemy of Russia and her dynasty could not have invented anything more destructive to her internal peace and tranquillity. There you see the true Nihilists — the men for whom there exists neither a Russia nor Russian tradition, no Russian nationality, no Orthodox Church. Those are the men who, like the Nihilists of the stamp of Bogoljuhoff and Sassulitch, are destitute of all historical consciousness, of every spark of living national feeling. Both belong to the same species, the same generation. Decide for yourselves who is the more dangerous for Russia, for her national and moral prosperity, and her dignity as a State. Which of the two kinds of Nihilists is the worst — the open or the disguised, the coarse anarchists or the refined statesmen?

It may be thought this is such explicit speaking, that to surpass it in plainness would be impossible. Yet O. K., who comes forward as the apologist of Russia, as the friend of England, and as the promoter of peace, resorts to language still more menacing. She roundly declares that, whether the Russian government likes it or not, and though Russian officials should try above all things to defer to Lord Beaconsfield, "Bulgaria, united and free from the Danube to the Egean, will be the battle-cry of the struggle which has now commenced."

It is only by copious extracts from such sources as those from which we have been borrowing, that a just and adequate idea can be presented to the English reader of the revolutionary and aggressive forces of which Russia is at present the home. We could multiply citations almost indefinitely, but we think we have adduced ample evidence to show that Europe has to deal with a power which is at once weak as against its own people, and unscrupulous as against its neighbors. The common conception of Russia used to be, that it consists of an intriguing government, and, if we except a handful of Nihilists, of a passive and amenable people. The events of the last few years have shown how erroneous is this estimate. Yet it would be a mistake of a yet grosser kind to infer that the government is in the hands of a single-minded autocrat, surrounded by faithful and united counsellors, all of them devoted to the cause of peace, and that they have periodically, in spite of themselves, to yield to the impulses that ever and anon obtain mastery over an uninstructed and formless public opinion. That Alexander II. is by temperament and inclination a pacific monarch, need not be doubted; and among his advisers are men who regard warlike adventure as the most fatal temptation to which Russia can be exposed. But there is nothing homogeneous in the influences by which the czar is surrounded; and some of his principal official servants do not scruple to promote intrigues and further a policy which they know to be opposed to his wishes. It is incredible that the despatches which were exchanged between General Ignatieff and M. de Novikoff in 1872 and 1873 (to be found in the singular collection of documents known as "Les Responsabilités," published at Paris in February 1877) should have been written with the cognizance and assent of the emperor. There is every reason to believe these despatches to be genuine. Their authenticity has not been denied; and O. K. will understand what we mean when we say that she could, if she chose, corroborate or shake our belief in their genuineness. They have been published by Mr. Ridgway in an English dress; and a reference to pages 22, 36, 58, and 62 of the English edition, will serve to show that General Ignatieff, and even members of the imperial family, were engaged for years in preparing the various insurrections which led to the war finally undertaken by the Russian government against the Ottoman Empire.

In a speech lately delivered by Count Moltke in the German Reichstag, he made the very just observation that one of the surest preservatives against war is the existence of strong governments. It is possible that when he employed this language he had in mind the Second French Empire, which, born of violence, had to perpetuate itself by adventure. But the Russian government, though based upon principles of traditional authority, and apparently possessing unlimited power, comes within the category of governments alluded to by Count Moltke, which are a source of standing danger to peace, because they are not strong enough to resist the influences which urge them into martial enterprises.

To the pacific character of the czar we have already borne ungrudging evidence. But no one would credit Prince Gortchakoff, for instance, with a similar disposition. Not that Prince Gortchakoff is consumed with warlike ardor, for he is, above all things, a diplomatist, and he regards armies as merely one of the instruments that subserve the purposes of his trade. But the Russian chancellor, and those who consent to take their inspiration from him, perpetually occupy themselves with the consideration how to promote the greatness and glory of Russia, and in the pursuit of this object they coquet with every influence that promises to advance it. The peculiar enthusiasm of the Russian people, known as Panslavism, is an influence they necessarily do not disdain; and its native power has unquestionably been increased by the countenance it has from time to time received from persons in authority. It is now grown to be more potent than those who once flattered themselves that they could both utilize and regulate it. It was a current on which they thought to sail just so far as it suited them. It now threatens to sweep them away and to bear them on whithersoever it wills.

The late war is a proof of what the Panslavonic movement can effect. It was the Slav societies that compelled the czar to draw the sword, and, though he at length consented to return it to the scabbard in deference to the threats of Europe, his submission awoke the loudest protests from those who had forced him into the strife. We have seen that they denounced, and continue to denounce, the Treaty of Berlin, and that they declare they will not rest content until the crusade interrupted by the negotiations that led to the Congress is resumed.

Now, what is the final end of this crusade, which is suspended only, by no means brought to a close? It is the unification of the Slavonic race under one government and one head. No doubt among the advocates of this cause there exist differences of opinion as to the means to be employed, and likewise as to the form which Slavonic unity shall ultimately assume. But in this, the agitators for a Slavonic nationality are only imitating those who agitated for Italian unity, and those who agitated for German unity. Whether Italy should be a republic, a confederation, or a kingdom, whether it should be founded by Mazzini, by Garibaldi, or by Victor Emmanuel, long remained a subject of unsettled controversy. In the same way the world had to wait for many years in order to learn whether Germany should be welded into unity by the house of Hohenzollern, by the house of Hapsburg, or by the National Liberals. There are advocates of Panslavism who, as we have seen, look to Russia as the nucleus of the movement, and who, like Tcherkasski, would liberate only to annex, and treat as traitors to the Slav cause all who refuse to look to St. Petersburg as their political centre. It may be doubted if the great bulk of the Slavonic agitators, of whom M. Aksakoff and M. Katkoff are brilliant specimens, entertain the same faith, and work for the same end. They are probably willing to trust to the chapter of accidents, and believe that, if they can only save the Slavs from all association with Turkey or Austria, Fate will provide a fresh mould in which to shape the liberated elements. Finally, the Nihilists regard the Slav agitation as a means to a much larger end than any mere unity of race or religion. They are satisfied while they are destroying, and the destruction of Turkey, of Austria, and of Russia is to them a series of progressive steps towards that unbounded chaos, from which the cosmos of the future is to emerge. But upon one point they are all agreed; and O. K. has in the most obliging manner provided us with the programme of their hopes in a few concise words —

The future is ours.

The Germans have reached their day, the English their midday, the French their afternoon, the Italians their evening, the Spanish their night; but the Slavs stand on the threshold of the morning.

We do not quote these words in order to condemn them, much less for the purpose of turning them into ridicule. Nor need we concern ourselves to enquire whether the view taken of the particular stage of decrepitude which the other races of Europe have reached, be in accordance with facts. It is enough to note that a claim is advanced, not for Russia, not for the Slavs of Bulgaria, not for Servia or the Slavonic subjects of the Austro-Hungarian empire, but for the entire Slavonic people as one family, destined to assert its unity, its power, and its influence, in the comity of nations.

This is the Slavonic menace; for nothing can be clearer than that the claim thus advanced cannot be made good without war, nor, in all probability, without a series of wars. It has already caused one sanguinary struggle, which its advocates confess is only the prelude to other and fiercer conflicts. There are Slavs under the sceptre of the German emperor. The Slavs under the sceptre of the house of Hapsburg number some thirteen millions. In Servia, in Roumania, in Bulgaria, in eastern Roumelia, they abound; and powerful States and independent principalities must succumb, if "the threshold of the morning" on which the Slavs are said to stand, is to be converted for them into the perfect day.

It needs no deep penetration to perceive that we are here in presence of a fresh assertion of that doctrine of nationality to which we owe all the European wars of this generation. Napoleon III. is generally credited with the authorship of this fruitful idea; and he certainly was the first monarch to invoke it as an excuse for attacking a neighboring and friendly State. Nor can it be denied that, when applied to the Italians, the doctrine of nationality exercised not only a fascination over the imagination, but a more or less legitimate influence upon the judgment. Geographical conformation, similarity of language, a common literature, noble traditions, — these and kindred circumstances combined to make the world sympathize with the idea of uniting all the inhabitants of the peninsula into one family and under one sceptre. Moreover, the local instruments for carrying it into effect were not wanting. The house of Savoy, which had always held a respected position, had recently acquired fresh repute by the skill and liberality with which, under adverse circumstances, it had defended the cause of constitutional government within its own territory, and by the timely daring with which it had associated itself with the Western powers in a war in which they were believed to be fighting on behalf of European freedom. Moreover, the governments that had to be displaced in order to make way for the unity of the peninsula had totally forfeited the sympathy of public opinion, and alienated the allegiance of their subjects. It is a pity these facts should not have been considered a sufficient apology for the attempt, happily successful, to rid the Italians of odious rulers, and unite them under the sway of a patriotic and popular sovereign.

Prince Bismarck is too sound and farseeing a statesman to invoke, in behalf of any policy on whose execution he has determined, the theories, crude or ripe, of abstract thinkers; and when he resolved on making the boundaries of Prussia practically co-extensive with those of Germany, he abstained from sonorous appeals to the doctrine of nationality which had found so much favor in Italy, and had been advocated so short-sightedly in France. Having a great and difficult task to achieve, he naturally did not go out of his way to repudiate assistance, no matter from what quarter it proceeded. But it is matter of historical notoriety, that he held the programme of the National Liberals in Prussia in utter contempt, and prepared the Prussian army, in the teeth of their protests, to bring about a result which he well knew Germany would never owe to agitators, however eloquent or however patriotic. Nevertheless, the sword that struck at Düppel, at Sadowa, and finally at Sedan, had its edge sharpened by the national spirit of the German people. Nor can it be doubted that the rapid and brilliant manner in which the Italians were formed into one political community was not without effect in increasing the Teutonic yearning to make of the long-boasted fatherland a political reality. We presume that consistent Liberals, who affect to believe that everything is to be done, not only for the people, but by the people, will not agree with us. But we must venture to express the opinion that Prince Bismarck deserves the thanks of Europe, and the gratitude more especially of those who entertain a serious attachment to the ways of peace, for having thrust nationality into the background, and engaged the resources and manhood of his countrymen in a struggle ostensibly growing out of diplomatic controversies, and not engendered by a wilful and determined passion of the German people to make war upon their neighbors in the pursuit of an abstract and almost metaphysical dogma.

It is only fair to draw this distinction between the authors and promoters of Italian unity, and the authors and promoters of German unity. But when the distinction is made, it still remains incontrovertible that the doctrine of nationality is responsible for all the European wars of the last quarter of a century. The Liberal party in this country have recently elected to pose as the special patrons and protectors of peace, and as superior moralists who hold all war in abhorrence. Yet nothing can be demonstrated more conclusively, than that Liberalism has been the source and parent of all the sanguinary struggles of our time. The doctrine of nationality is not a Conservative but a Liberal doctrine; and it was this doctrine which made the Italians unwilling to remain subject any longer to the sceptre of the house of Hapsburg. It was in pretended furtherance of this doctrine that the German Confederation authorized Prussia and Austria to dismember Denmark. This doctrine it was which reconciled the people of north Germany to the attack made by Prussia upon Austria in 1866; an attack which ended in the expulsion of Austria from Germany altogether. Had Prince Bismarck been more impulsive in judgment and more restless in action, he would not have left Austria the seven or eight million German subjects she still can boast. But he knew well enough that Austria, deprived altogether of her German elements, would be a power too weak to render efficient help to Germany, whether against France or against Russia; whereas her German elements would still serve to bring Austria to his side in the hour of Germany's need. But this admirable foresight was a personal and peculiar gift, and was not shared by the people of Prussia, who would fain have embraced in the fatherland every German-speaking tongue. Finally, the doctrine of nationality gave the spice to the tremendous duel between France and Germany. France complained that the Peace of Prague had made Germany too strong; while Germany still felt unsatisfied because a line was drawn at the Main, and because the imperial crown as yet rested on no German head.

We are not saying whether the doctrine of nationality, as applied to Italy, Germany, and France, was or was not just and generous. This is not the place to argue the question. But it must be obvious to every one who reflects for a single instant, that this doctrine, which is essentially a Liberal doctrine, has caused nearly all the bloodshed of our time, and has been the fount and origin of all European wars during the present generation. We are not of those who consider there is nothing worth fighting for, and nothing which justifies war. But when we find one and the same political party professing to be, par excellence, the party of peace, yet approving and advocating a doctrine which has engendered all the armed strife of our time, we experience that sensation of repulsion which is excited by the painful doubt, whether we are dealing with people who are totally insensible to the conclusions of their own logic, or entirely divested of any concern respecting their reputation for good faith.

The doctrine of nationality, it is only too painfully evident, has not yet exhausted its capacity for fomenting bloodshed. There is yet, as O. K. tells us, a nationality which is not satisfied, which is only in its germ, but for whose full development we may make ready as soon as ever we like. The Italians have achieved their unity, and so have the Germans. It is now the turn of the Slavs.

At first sight, some people who applauded the movements which took the house of Savoy to Rome, and made Berlin the seat of empire, might think it was incumbent on them to tender their sympathies to the agitation which would annex to Russia all the Slav-speaking countries of Europe, or merge Russia in some great Slav confederation or republic. But a moment's reflection would show them that there is really no parity between the first two cases and the third. Italian is a language, and so is German. There is no such thing as a common Slav language. A Russian does not understand a Bulgarian; a Bulgarian does not understand a Pole; a Servian does not understand a Czech. These various so-called Slav communities have no common grammar, not even an entirely common alphabet. They have all of them a distinct literature, such as it is, a different history, and different traditions. They are no more one nationality than the Aryan races are one nationality. Nay, according to Mr. Ralston, it is the sad fate of the Bulgarians to be hopelessly cut off from the happy family of Slavs by a grievance which Europe cannot redress — the want of an infinitive mood! The whole movement, as far as any basis beyond the basis of restlessness and ambition is concerned, is utterly unreal. Between France and Italy, between Germany and England, there is far more community of everything that makes a nation, than there is between these alleged Slav members of one family.

Nevertheless, the Slav movement is afoot, and the Slavonic menace is impending. The national party in Russia favour it, because it is the only means by which they can make their own importance felt. The revolutionary party favor it, because they love to fish in troubled waters, and because they cherish the hope that the Romanoffs will perish under the weight of their conquests and annexations. Finally, the Russian government and the diplomatists of St. Petersburg favor it, partly because they are afraid of the consequences if they resist it, and partly because they trust they may prove strong enough to head the movement, and in the end appropriate all the profits accruing from its success.

Now it can be shown, beyond all doubt or dispute, that this Slavonic menace cannot be translated into action without causing another war, probably greater and more appalling than any we have seen even in this age of battles. For the Slav nationality to fulfil its dreams, Austria-Hungary must be destroyed. The volume written by O. K. bristles with testimony to this effect. M. Aksakoff has declared — as she takes pains to tell us — that "the existence of Austria-Hungary is founded on injustice to the Slavs." At page 97 she observes, on her own account, that "England has conspired with Austria to deprive the Slavs of the liberty which we promised them, and to betray them into the hands of those from whom our brothers died to free them forever." In another place we are told of the "plotting between Great Britain and Austria," assisted by "the hectoring of Germany." M. Aksakoff becomes almost inarticulate when he speaks upon this point. "Beaconsfield stamped his foot, Austria held up a threatening finger, Russian diplomatists were terrified, and all was surrendered." He is horrified because England and Austria will take measures to bring Bulgaria under their influence "in all matters political and economical … England and Austria will entangle the Bulgaro-Danubian principality, and will enclose her in an iron band, out of which she will find no means of escape." All of which only means that they have prevented Russia from annexing it, and shutting out all goods and all manufactures except her own. But, warming with his subject, M. Aksakoff comes to the conclusion that these two wicked powers are not really formidable, because England "has only her Indian monsters on land," and Austria's "whole body is no more than a heel of Achilles, who, as well she may, fears more than anything else a war with Russia, for the raising of the Austrian question depends on the will of Russia alone."

It is probable that M. Aksakoff is a little wiser by this time. The Austro-German understanding, which Lord Salisbury happily and justly designated "good tidings of great joy," has somewhat steadied the feather-headed politicians of Moscow, and has instructed them that behind "the heel of Achilles" stands the whole of imperial Germany. O. K. devotes an entire chapter to this historical incident, and labors to laugh away an alliance which has for the moment rendered Russia morosely silent. But her efforts at hilarity are evidently forced. She speaks of "poor dear Austria," a feminine form of compassion, which betrays a mixture of detestation and fear. She observes that there can be no national hatred between Russians and Austrians, "because there are no Austrians. As Prince Gortchakoff once wittily observed, Austria is not a nation, she is not even a State, she is only a government." We cannot compliment the lady on her skill in concealing her rancor, and when she adds that "with the Slavs of Austria and Hungary, that is with the majority of the subjects of the Hapsburg, the Slavs of Russia can only have the liveliest feelings of sympathy and fraternity," she forgets to add that the sympathy and fraternity they wish to display is the sympathy and fraternity of forcible annexation. O. K. has not the courage to say anything insulting about Germany, though she lets us see that she is burning to level her lively shafts against Prince Bismarck. But concerning the ally of Germany she does not trouble herself to dissemble. She finishes up with a long diatribe against that power, by the following indiscreet but valuable confession: —

It is a joke in Moscow that the Sick Man at Constantinople being in articulo mortis, the attention of Europe will have to be turned to the Sick Woman of Vienna-Pesth.

This, then, is the Slavonic monace, as far as concerns the peace of Europe. The doctrine of nationality, applied to the Slavs, cannot attain its end without the destruction of the Austro-Hungarian empire. Now what chance is there of the Austro-Hungarian empire being destroyed, unless Europe be exposed to a war of the first magnitude? We do not mean to imply that its destruction would be the consequence of that war. On the contrary, we entertain little doubt that Austria would emerge from it, as she has emerged from former wars, stronger and more compact than ever. But no serious movement can be made to realize the aspirations of those who prate about a Slav nationality, that does not involve an attack upon Austria-Hungary, and that does not meditate her dismemberment.

Now we should like our readers to ask themselves what would be the immediate result of an attack by Russia, or by any of the Slav agencies which Russia can set in motion, upon Austria-Hungary. For a time, the disingenuous detractors in this country of the Treaty of Berlin labored hard to persuade themselves that the visit paid by Prince Bismarck last autumn to Vienna had not been attended by any important negotiations. But any affectation of doubt upon this subject is no longer possible. Prince Bismarck has established between Germany and Austria-Hungary a complete and cordial understanding; and the understanding is avowedly directed against that sporadic movement which we have designated the Slavonic menace. But it has recently oozed out that the visit in question was the fruit of no sudden resolve. Ever since 1866 Prince Bismarck had been waiting for an opportunity to transform the old rivalry between Prussia and Austria into a sterling and steadfast friendship between Germany and Austria-Hungary. The competition between the house of Hapsburg and the house of Hohenzollern for hegemony in Germany could be settled only by an appeal to the sword; and the verdict was in favor of the latter. But from the moment that Germany ceased to be a mere bundle of separate states, and became a single and homogeneous empire, it was manifestly to the interest of the statesmen of Berlin, who had permanently mortified France, to make an ally of their former rival. It is probable that this alliance between the two great powers of central Europe would in any case have been established in course of time. It was only accelerated by the headstrong and unscrupulous ambition of Russia. The Treaty of San Stefano was probably no revelation to Prince Bismarck; but it taught less instructed and less penetrating minds what was to be expected from the professed emancipators of oppressed nationalities. The Treaty of Berlin, as M. Aksakoff and O. K. have the honesty to tell us, was a bitter disappointment to the government of St. Petersburg, to the enthusiasts of Moscow, and to the adherents of Nihilism: and the hatred previously felt only for England and Austria was at once extended to Germany. What Prince Bismarck had clearly foreseen, and in all probability heartily welcomed, was the complete alienation of Russian sentiment from Germany. It enabled him at once to introduce a little more enlightenment into the political circles of Vienna, and to convince the Austro-Hungarian government that it must either enter into a close alliance with Germany, or be exposed to attack from Russia, Italy, and the various Slav States on its eastern frontier, at one and the same time.

These facts are too notorious to be challenged; and they must by this time be familiar to every one who aspires to be regarded as a serious politician. Yet it is with these facts before him, that a man who has been prime minister of England, and who is still regarded as the most authoritative mouthpiece of the Liberal party, seizes the opportunity to denounce, in language of unmeasured violence, Austria, the ally of Germany — Austria who is co-operating with Germany in the task which would otherwise have to be performed by ourselves, of keeping the ambition of Russia within reasonable bounds. No one who reads the volume from which we have made such copious extracts, will doubt from what instructor Mr. Gladstone has learned his lesson against Austria. He has not disdained to borrow his facts and his arguments from a lady whose patriotism, ability, and good faith do not prevent her from being the apostle of that "Moscow Russia" which keeps Europe under the menace of wars, wars, wars for the Slavs. In an article in a monthly magazine Mr. Gladstone has spoken of the long catalogue of Austria's misdeeds," scarcely relieved by a solitary act done on behalf of justice and freedom." But without going so far back as to remind him that Vienna was once besieged by the Turks, we may ask this denouncer of Austria if he remembers that he was himself a member of the Cabinet that plunged this country into war with Russia, and was profuse in its acknowledgment of the services that Austria rendered to the Western powers by the occupation of the Danubian principalities. Mr. Gladstone might have called to mind that the grandfather of the present emperor of Austria was the staunchest ally of England when our fathers were engaged in the manly and successful struggle of liberating Europe from the intolerable domination of the Corsican conqueror. He might likewise have remembered that, at the same period, the uncle of the present czar was treacherously negotiating with Napoleon to throw us over, on condition that he should be allowed to add Turkey and Constantinople to the Muscovite dominions.

But no account of the Slavonic menace would be complete that did not include some reference to another disturbing element in the political constitution of Russia. Whilst Alexander II. and his ambitious ministers have been maturing plots and preparing armies against the peace of Europe, the most active and determined of the subjects of the czar have been engaged in a widespread conspiracy to rid themselves of his rule, and to substitute for it a reign of terror and chaos. If the object of the Nihilists were simply to endow Russia with representative institutions, or even were their aim confined to the assassination of their own monarch, Europe might consider itself unaffected by their proceedings. But Nihilism does not confine itself to national emancipation; it aspires to embrace the whole world in its resolute crusade. Within the space of a few months, three separate and appalling attempts have been made on the life of the emperor; but what renders them far more terrible and important is, that they have been made by men who avow that they will not scruple to bring about a fresh organization of society in Europe by the self-same means they employed against the imperial train at Moscow, and against the imperial palace at St. Petersburg. This self-same government, which is too unscrupulous to refrain from periodical aggressions upon the territory of its neighbors, and too weak to resist the importunate promptings of its own subjects, has fomented within its own borders a new species of cosmopolitan revolutionary communism, whose doctrines and methods exceed in audacity and strangeness all the previous disintegrating theories of the century.

Who was the first Nihilist it would appear impossible to say. Some of the more thoughtful adherents of Nihilism would fain give it a respectable metaphysical origin, and attribute its real parentage to the great German philosopher Hegel. Hegel of course was perfectly innocent of the application Russian students attending his lectures would make of his abstract arguments, but there seems to be no doubt that Alexander Herzen drank deep of the Hegelian philosophy, and built upon it a political creed which was at first embodied in the cry, "Let the old world perish!" The exclamation is to be found in the brochure which he published after the failure of the Revolutions of 1848, and which he entitled, "After the Tempest." Man, Herzen declared, bears within himself an eternal revolutionary tribunal, "an inexorable Fouquier-Tinville, and above all, a guillotine." Men, he went on to say, are afraid of their own logic; and when they have summoned before this eternal revolutionary tribunal the Church, the State, the family, and morality, they seek to save some shreds of the past. They deny Christianity, but they would fain rescue the immortality of the soul. This, he affirmed, would never do, and he added that, "in passing from the old world to the new, we must carry nothing with us." In speaking of the "Terror" of 1793, Herzen declared that its task was only to judge men. The task of the new revolution is to judge institutions, to demolish beliefs, to destroy all hope in what is old, to shatter every prejudice and shake off the yoke of all ancient ties, without concession or pity. Well might M. de Molinari, the well-known French publicist, assert that if Herzen could only have become master of the destinies of Russia, he would have been as despotic as the emperor Nicholas himself.

But the time was to come when Herzen would be regarded as Conservative and retrograde, and when even his famous journal, the Kolokol though for a time partly under the inspiration of Bakunin, whose uncompromising violence Herzen dreaded yet could not resist, was deemed an insufficient exponent of the doctrines of revolutionary Russia. Hegel was set aside by the philosophical spirits of the party for Schopenhauer, with his radical pessimism, his gospel of dogged and melancholy negation, and his return to the annihilating principles of Buddha. Schopenhauer had denounced Hegel in the most violent terms. He had told him almost to his face in Berlin that he was a charlatan and a mediocre creature, and that his doctrine was only a scholastic and pedantic form of poetry, worthy of boys and demagogues. The root of all evil, said Schopenhauer, is existence. Life is unendurable, and must be got rid of. Probably by this time Herr von Hartmann, the successor of Schopenhauer, and who traces misery to consciousness, is beginning to replace him. But it is evident that political Nihilism must find a valuable auxiliary in a philosophy which attributes evil to mere being.

But no doctrine is made generally popular either by metaphysicians or by politicians. The wand of the enchanter is required to give life to dry propositions and dead deductions; and if a theory is to find its way to the heart of a people, the poet and the novelist must give it soul and wings. Here is an account of the real origin of a term which has become a household word. Travelling in 1860 in the Isle of Wight, Tourguenef met by chance a young Russian doctor called Andrejef, who had just left the University of St. Petersburg. This young fellow, now no more, professed the theory of the purest negation. With the intuition which is the peculiar gift of genius, Tourguenef discerned that he had before him not a solitary phenomenon, but a type. He went deeply into the subject, and finally wrote his celebrated novel, " Fathers and Sons." The fathers are the old generation, the sons the new; and the latter he designated Nihilists. Yet the word itself was no novelty. Royer Collard had written: "The scepticism, or nihilism, which characterizes the philosophy of these latter days, springs from satiety." M. Victor Hugo had likewise affirmed that "the negation of the infinite leads directly to nihilism."

We have said that Herzen came at last to be viewed with suspicion by the more advanced advocates of Nihilism. Amongst these were Ogaref and Baktsnin. The burly figure of the latter will be remembered by Englishmen who happened to pass the winter of 1864-5 in Florence, and attended the hospitable receptions of Herr Pulszky, the eminent Hungarian refugee, who has since been re-admitted to the full privileges of Austrian citizenship. While his fair young wife, who had escaped with him from Siberia,^[2] was delighting with her wit and amiability the more susceptible portion of that agreeable society, Bakunin, in another room, seated before a tumbler of smoking Russian tea, would discourse with flowing eloquence and the most genial bonhomie upon the necessity of destroying everything that existed, and trusting to the unborn future to fill up the vacuum in a satisfactory manner. Considerably over six feet high, and broad in proportion, he would splutter out between his matted and grizzly beard sentiments to make the hair of the uninitiated stand on end, then bring his destructive course to a close with a peal of hearty laughter, as though to show that, terribly in earnest as he was, he exempted his present audience from the general doom he had been foretelling. There is a French saying, "On est toujours Jacobin de quelqu'un;" and Bakunin, in the eyes of Herzen, was more Nihilist than the original Nihilists themselves.

Neither you nor I [wrote Herzen to Bakunin] have betrayed our convictions; but we look at the question from a different point of view. You dash forward, as of old, with a passion for destruction that you mistake for a creating force. You break through all obstacles, you respect history only in the future. I, on the contrary, have no faith in the old revolutionary methods, and I labor to understand the march of man in the past and in the present, in order to learn how to march with him, without lagging behind, and without going as much in advance as you, for men would not and could not follow me.

It is impossible to give an exhaustive account of all the destructive projects of Bakunin, but among the objects of his iconoclastic fury were God, public or private worship, marriage, inheritance, and individual property. We have spoken of Tourguenef, whose novels are more or less familiar to the English public through translations and reviews. Two equally instructive imaginative writers, for any one who wishes to study Nihilism, are Tcherniscevski and Pisemski. The latter declares, in his preface to "An Agitated Sea," that the historian of the future may read his work with the confident feeling, that all which is false and factitious in Russian life is reflected therein. In the society he describes, all moral feeling is inverted, falsehood and phrasemongering reign supreme, and egotism, craving after enjoyment, is the presiding genius. In the works of another Russian novelist, Dostojevski, the colors are yet more sombre and repulsive. The following language occurs in the mouth of one of his hearers : —

Down with instruction and science; we have already enough to last us for a thousand years. The thirst for knowledge is an aristocratic thirst. Add to that, family love, and the desire of proprietorship will be developed. Let us extirpate this desire. Let us develop intoxication, lust, and a corruption hitherto unknown. Let us suffocate geniuses in their cradle. And all this in order to arrive at complete equality. There are other convulsions that we desire; but that concerns only us, the chiefs of the movement.

Do you know that we are already tremendously strong? Belonging to our ranks are not only those who kill, those who burn, or those who strike classic blows. Such people are only obstacles. I value nothing but discipline.

We cannot bring ourselves to transcribe the rest of the passage. But those of our readers who wish to gain a more accurate idea of the notions advocated by enthusiastic Nihilists, cannot do better than consult a work we have placed at the head of this article, "Il Nihilismo," by Signor Arnaudo, a French translation of which has been made by M. Henri Bellenger, and published at Paris.

This is the last aspect of the Slavonic menace; and we think our readers will agree with us that it presents most formidable features. The Slav is not an original thinker; he is too much of a child to develop new ideas; but he is quick at learning, and in his amiable enthusiasm he travesties the notions he imbibes. Nihilism is only the most recent phase of the cosmopolitan revolution.

In presence of this Slavonic menace — a menace proceeding from an ambitious government, an aggressive race, and a disordered society — what is to be done? There can be but one answer. It must be firmly resisted. To encourage or even to tolerate it, is to declare against European freedom, European peace, and European civilization. When the leaders of the Liberal party are chastened by the responsibilities of office, they will gradually come to discern that they have during the last few years been lending countenance and encouragement to the principal promoters of war on the Continent; and an uncompromising Nemesis will compel them to resist, and possibly to denounce, a movement which, when in opposition, they so recklessly favored.

1. ↑  1. Russia and England, 1876 to 1880. By O. K. London, 1880.
   2. Russia Before and After the War. London, 1880.
   3. Il Nihilismo. By J. B. Arnaudo. Turin, 1880.
2. ↑  In "Russia Before and After the War," it is said that Madame Bakunin escaped with her children. This is a mistake. Certainly up to 1865 there was no offspring of the marriage.