them subjects of Russia. But, if this cannot be, if the only choice lies between a civilized and a barbarous despotism, between a despotism which at least secures to its subjects the common rights of human beings and a despotism which makes no attempt to secure them, we have no doubt as to which despotism we ought to choose. And we feel that, if things come to such a choice, the fault will not be ours, but the fault of those who have allowed Russia to take the championship of right out of the hands of England. Even if it could be shown that the interest of England lay on the side of the worse choice, we should still again say, Let the interest of England give way to her duty. But the notion that England has any interest in the matter is simply a worn-out superstition. I saw the other day an argument that it was not for the interest of England to allow any strong power to hold the Bosporos. Here is the wicked old doctrine that the strength of one nation must be the weakness of another. The stronger the power that holds the Bosporos the better, provided it be a native power. But if the folly and weakness of our diplomatists have decreed that it should be held, not by a native but by a Russian power, we shall lament the result, but we shall fail to see how the interest of England is involved. The only ground on which it has ever been pretended that our interest is touched in the matter, has been because it is said that the presence of Russia on the Bosporos would block our path to India. But our path to India does not lie by the Bosporos, but by Suez; and if Egypt could be transferred from its present merciless tyrant to the rule of England or of any other civilized power, it would be the greatest of boons for all the inhabitants, Mahometan and Christian, of that unhappy land.
When I am asked what is to be done, I say again what I said in December, with such changes as have been made needful by the events of the last nine months. Bosnia, Turkish Croatia, Herzegovina, Bulgaria, and Crete must be delivered from the immediate rule of the sultan. This is the least that outraged Europe can accept. This is the commission which Lord Derby has received in the plainest terms from his employers and educators. And the word Bulgaria must not be limited to the land north of Hæmus, which alone bears that name in our maps. The Bulgarian folk and speech, the remains of the kingdom of Samuel, reach far to the south of the mountains, and a large part of the worst deeds of the Turk have been done south of the mountains. This is the minimum, the least which can be demanded in the name of outraged humanity. All those lands must be put in a position not worse than the position of Roumania now, not worse than the position of Servia before the war. It is in no way hampering or embarrassing the government to quote a favorite party cry of the moment, to give them, in answer to Lord Derby's own request, these plain instructions. The exact bonudaries of the new states to be formed, the exact form of government to be set up in each, the princes, if they are to have princes, who are to be chosen for each, these are points Of detail which we leave to the assembled wisdom of Europe. We may criticise any definite proposal when it is made; it is not our business to make definite proposals beforehand. Let Turkish rule cease, and though one change may be better than another, any change will be better than Turkish rule. As for Servia, no one will stop to discuss the insolent paper which was put forth by the baffled barbarian who tries to win by fraud what he has found that he cannot win by arms. The Turk has wrought his evil deeds in Servia, but he has not conquered Servia; the impudent demands which go on the assumption that he has conquered Servia must be thrust down his own barbarian throat. Let Servia be not worse off than she was before the war; let the revolted lands be not worse off than Servia; this is the programme of the people of England. Details they leave to those whose business it is to settle them; but their minds are made up as to the root of the matter. Less than I have just said they will not have.
Events do indeed pass quickly. Between the writing of the last paragraph and its revision, the insolence of the barbarian himself has been outshone. The lowest bellower in the Oxford mob could not depart farther from the truth, farther from reason, farther from decency, than Lord Beaconsfield did in his notorious speech at Aylesbury. When the new earl told the world that to speak the truth about Turkish "atrocities" was a greater a "atrocity" than to do them, it was hard not to remember that there is but one living statesmen of whom it has been said that he says the first thing that comes into his head, and takes his chance of its being true. When we go on and read the monstrous misstatements which Lord Beaconsfield was not ashamed to make with regard to the affairs of Servia, it is hard not to re-
