The Daily Union

France—Russia.—The War of Principles.

Between the years of 1815 and 1821, on an island in the South Atlantic, situated about latitude 16 deg., and in the meridian of England, there was an exile-prophet, (genius is always prophetic,) who, like John in Patmos, saw the future; and this was his prophecy: "Europe will be Democratic or Cossack." He had wasted his giant powers and mighty efforts to establish an absolute authority in the name of liberty; he had sought to restore something of a mixed government—a form between despotism and pure democracy; and his ambition was to be the "Restorer of Society," after the terrible convulsion of the great French revolution—to restore society upon the basis of property and privilege—and he failed; for though the eclat of his victories captivated France for a while, and permitted him to exercise an unquestioned power over her, he knew that his was only a government of glory, and felt that it must be short-lived: hence his own expression, "war is necessary for me." He saw the mighty but unsubstantial fabric crumble; for it was not based upon reason, and upon the indestructible idea of the "rights of man," which the great events of the close of the eighteenth century had evolved. And when from his prison-rock this great man reviewed the history of his life, which was the history of Europe for that period, his discursive and powerful genius revealed to him the fact, that the march of mind, and the increasing consolidation of power in the hands of the northern autocrat, rendered only one of two forms of government possible in the future of Europe—the government of reason or the government of force.

To illustrate this fact, which Napoleon prophetically announced more than thirty years ago, I have taken the progressive development of France and Russia. Other nations develop, more or less, the progress of the age or the advance of arbitrary power, but these two chiefly, and in a degree apparent to the most ordinary observer. The contest is between French ideas and Russian power. It is the same war which precipitated the allied armies in Holland and Belgium in 1793 against the revolution, and which never ceased till millions of the flower of Europe were slain, and England was crushed with a debt of hundreds of millions sterling. But now circumstances have changed in some respects the character of the alliance and of the parties to it; and the field of battle is not so circumscribed as before. England, who is reaping the glory of the war against France, by paying annually a hundred millions of dollars interest on the debt then contracted, does not wish to acquire any more such expensive glory. Besides, her sympathies are not so strong for the despots of the present day. That war was waged to prevent the principles of the revolution from crossing the Rhine and the Alps. It was a war of aggression to destroy the revolutionary idea in its birth; and the allies had, in the end, to stand on the defensive, on their own soil, against the terrible power they had dared to provoke. Now, this idea has not only crossed the Rhine and the Alps, but the Danube, the Carpathians, the Elbe, and the Pyrenees—it has made the circuit of Europe. And this new alliance, a most unholy one, upon which the curse of God rests—for He suffers its members to become infatuated with power in order to destroy them in their mad intoxication—is one of tyrants, and the privileged orders, against the people. Patriotism, nationalities, the bond of relationship, and a common language, are all despised to maintain power and selfish privileges. Oh, that the people would learn to imitate their oppressors, and unite!

The present contest is not confined to the plains of Belgium, but is in every part of Europe; and Paris and St. Petersburg govern the movements—one by its moral and the other by its physical power.

I have shown in my former letters what was the power of France in Europe, how it had developed itself, and what results we might expect from its action. And I have also, in the first four letters of this series, exposed the character of Russian policy. For this purpose I took the Danubian Principalities as best calculated to exhibit the astuteness and ambition of this extraordinary nation. I might have taken Poland, or any other of the nations she has absorbed, for the same purpose, as the history of the absorption of one is the history of all. There is but one cause for the fall of all her victims; that is their fatal contiguity to Russia. The Danubian Principalities, however, from their geographical position, being the gate to Constantinople, on which the Czars have long looked with covetous gaze, and from their relation to the Sublime Porte, afford more materials by which to comprehend Moscovite ambition than any of the other subjugated nations. It is by strengthening her power in the East that Russia can more effectually threaten the West; as one of her generals exclaimed when he entered Bucharest, "Now is the time to seize the East and menace the West." Since Peter the Great, her policy has been to become a great naval as well as a military power. She supports at an enormous annual expense a great navy which is almost useless; it is confined to the frozen Baltic and the Euxine, and it never can be efficient without ports on the Mediterranean or Northern ocean, and a mercantile marine. Hence her ceaseless efforts—first by intrigue, and then by coercion—to subjugate the eastern nations on the shores of the Black Sea and on the Danube, lying between her and Turkey, in order to reach the Hellespont or Dardanelles. My letters on these countries show the nature and progress of such efforts; but to place Russia and the principle of absolutism, which she represents, in closer juxtaposition with France and the revolutionary idea of equality, I will attempt to show briefly, in a more particular manner, the character of the Russian people and their government.

This nation, so unique in its character and history, is but the growth, herculean though it be, of yesterday. It seems as if the bearded hyperborean monster had all at once risen, like fantastic exhalations from a swamp, from the north pole. Its stature is so great that already it overlooks two hemispheres—Europe and Asia—from the Baltic to the Pacific ocean. The inhabitants of the south look upon its superhuman proportions and frightful form, covered with hair and ice, with shivering terror. They are, doubtless, seized with unnecessary alarm; for what is distant is mysterious, and mystery begets fear. This monster of the north moves with little force in an uncongenial climate, and as he approaches the south and west his proportions are reduced, and his form rendered less frightful. Still, Russia is a formidable power. She has attained this from the character of her emperors, from the nature of her people, and from the various people, with their distinct nationalities and civil wars, which surrounded her on the west, the south, and the east, who have been one by one easily conquered and assimilated, and also from the icy and boundless home to which she could always retreat beyond the fear of pursuit. An invading army like that of Napoleon would melt under the Russian snows. She is impregnable at home.

The reigning house of Romanow is remarkable for intelligence and greatness of character, which has contributed in a high degree to the power of the empire—Peter the Great, who may be called its founder; Catherine, who consolidated it; Alexander, who, by the reverses of Napoleon and his own success in the great war which ended in 1815, made it the first State in Europe; and the Emperor Nicholas, by his astute policy during the late revolutionary struggles, has made Russia the protector of empires and kingdoms. Thus have the Czars, by great ability, brought, within so short a period as from the time of Peter the Great to the present, a few hyperborean savages to be the greatest power in the world, and to make themselves the tutelary deities of the Caesars. And though the emperors have unlimited power over their subjects, they make themselves popular by freely mingling and conversing with all classes, which enables them to govern by the two most powerful feelings of our nature—fear and love.

The Russian people are fatalists, and believe that whatever happens is decreed and absolutely unavoidable, and it is a part of their creed that Russia is to govern the world. This they believe as firmly as that they exist. If faith be the lever of the mind which moves us to attempt and accomplish great things—for it is said it can "remove mountains"—then, doubtless, does it conduce materially to the extraordinary advancement of the Russian empire. It appears to be the established faith of all classes, and probably of the Czar himself, that such is the destiny of Russia; and really her unparalleled history would appear to justify such a belief.

The Russian peasant, who is a serf, and under absolute authority, is nevertheless the foundation, the framework, the very element, unchanged for ages, of the mighty political edifice we call the Russian empire. The same peculiarities are found in the laboring class as in the "topmost pinnacle of Russian society;" and there are less distinctions of classes and castes, and more fellow-feeling among the Russians, than in any of the aristocratic States of Western Europe. They are mild and fond of peace, but invincibly brave in the field of battle. Here is the essence of an extraordinary phenomenon, with the peculiarities of an aboriginal, mighty, natural power, which has been active from the remotest periods, and which, it seems, is not likely to cease very soon to operate upon the future, but rather to cut out more and more work for mankind. They are extremely religious, and trust in God for everything; they praise God for bad as well as good luck, for they say He does all for the best. They burned the great city of Moscow "for God and the Emperor," rather than suffer it to be taken by the irreligious French. Such a people must always be powerful.

The neighboring nations fall one by one into this colossal empire, and she soon absorbs and assimilates them all. She is consolidated—they are divided; they fall to pieces by their own intestine wars, often secretly fomented by her, and then become her prey. The Czar believes, and the nation believes, that he is the minister of God on earth, and that whatever he does to extend his power and the influence of the Greek church is right, and agreeable to the purposes of Providence or the decrees of Heaven. The Czar (if I may so speak) is the Mahomet of Christianity. The sword, imposture, lies, intrigue—anything and everything—are justifiable in the accomplishment of the will of the Czar, which is said to be as the will of God. If the Emperor dismember Poland, if he seize part of the Turkish empire, if he annihilate Hungary, if he wage eternal war against the Circassians, or if he should tear to pieces the German fatherland, it is all in the name of God, and the people say—Amen!

Russia is always at war. At some point or other of her extensive dominion, or in the neighboring States, she finds constant employment and discipline for her troops. And in all the States she conquers, or subjugates in any way, she establishes Cossack colonies, holding lands on a military tenure. Thus are her unceasing efforts directed to make a powerful and an efficient army. And now she is increasing it more than ever, probably in anticipation of the coming struggle in Europe, for she is the sworn foe of democracy; or, perhaps, she thinks the time is at hand when a rival monument to Alexander's Pillar, which at present is the pinnacle of Russian glory, may be erected in honor of her conquests over the Germanic tribes, with an inscription somewhat in this manner:

"All the victorious Slavonians, united under the Russian sceptre, erected this monument out of gratitude for the victories over the German tribes, whose injustice of a century's standing, was at length atoned for, and the countries wrested by them from the Slavonians again incorporated with the ancient Slavonian empire." "There are those who assert that the Russian eagle has long been brooding over the sketch of such an inscription, and in the egg there is an embryo which is already assuming a shape. The date alone is illegible." If the Germanic Confederation be doomed to the fate of Poland, then will Europe become Cossack; but if the democratic principle triumph, Russia must recede to her original limits, or become democratic herself. The probable alternative I will discuss shortly.

W. B. P.