Various
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 66, No 409, November 1849
When, therefore, not only a considerable portion of the press of this country, but the government itself, is found espousing the cause of revolution in the south of Europe, we need not be surprised if other governments, at a period of so much danger and insecurity, regard Great Britain as a renegade to the cause of order. Our position at present is, in reality, one of great difficulty, and such as ought to make us extremely cautious of indulging in unnecessary bravado. The state of our financial affairs is anything but encouraging. We are answerable for a larger debt than any other nation of the world; and our economists are so sensible of the weight of our burdens, that they would fain persuade us to denude ourselves even of the ordinary means of defence. Our foreign exports are stationary; our imports immensely increasing; our home market reduced, for the present, to a state of terrible prostration. Free trade, by destroying the value of agricultural produce, has almost extinguished our last hope of restoring tranquillity to Ireland, and of raising that unhappy country to the level of the sister kingdoms. It is in vain that we have crippled ourselves to stay the recurring famine of years, since our statesmen are leagued with famine, and resolute to persevere in their iniquity. The old hatred of the Celt to the Saxon is still burning in the bosoms of a large proportion of the misguided population of Ireland; and were any opportunity afforded, it would break forth as violently as ever. So that, even within the girdle of the four seas, we are not exactly in that situation which might justify our provoking unnecessary hostility from abroad. So far we are entirely at one with the Peace Congress. When we look to the state of our colonies, the prospect is not more encouraging. Through Whig misrule, our tenure of the Canadas has become exceedingly precarious. The West Indies are writhing in ruin; and even the inhabitants of the Cape are rampant, from the duplicity of the Colonial Office. Our interest is most clearly and obviously identified with the cause of order; for, were Britain once actively engaged in a general war, it is possible that the presence of her forces would be required in more than a single point. Of the final result, in the event of such a calamity, we have no doubt, but not the less, on that account, should we deeply deplore the struggle.
Such being our sentiments, it is with considerable pain that we feel ourselves called upon to notice as strong an instance of charlatanism and presumption as was ever exhibited in this country. Fortunately, on this occasion, the offender has gone so far that no one can be blind to his delinquencies; for, if there be any truth in the abstract principles of the Peace Association, their last disciple has disowned them; if the doctrines of free trade were intended to have universal application, Richard Cobden, in the face of the universe, has entered his protest against them. It signifies very little to us, and less to the powers against whom he has thundered his anathemas, what Mr Cobden thinks proper either to profess or repudiate; still, as he has been pleased to attempt the performance of the part of Guy Fawkes, we judge it necessary to conduct him from the coal-cellar, and to throw the light of the lantern upon his visage, and that of his accomplices. And, first, a word or two as to the occasion of his last appearance.
The recent Hungarian rising is by no means to be classed in the same category with the wretched Italian insurrections. Much as it is to be deplored that any misunderstanding should have arisen between the Austrian cabinet and the Hungarian Diet, so serious as to have occasioned a war; we look upon the latter body as uninfluenced by those wild democratic notions which have been and are still prevalent in the west of Europe. Whatever may have been the case with Kossuth, and some of his more ambitious confederates, the mass of the Hungarian people had no wish whatever to rise in rebellion against their king. Their quarrel was that of a minor state to which certain privileges had been guaranteed; against the presumed infringement of which, by their more powerful neighbour, they first protested, and finally had recourse to arms. Their avowed object, throughout the earlier part of the struggle, was not to overturn, but to maintain, certain existing institutions: and it is remarkable that, from the day on which Kossuth threw off the mask, and renounced allegiance to his sovereign, the Hungarians lost confidence in their leader, and their former energy decayed. We need not now discuss the abstract justice of the Hungarian claims; but whatever may be thought of these, we must, in common fairness to Austria, consider her peculiar position at the time when they were sought to be enforced. Concessions which, during a season of tranquillity, might have been gracefully made, were rendered almost impossible when demanded with threats, in the midst of insurrection and revolt. It was but too obvious that the leaders of the Hungarian movement, forgetful of their fealty to the chief of that great empire of which their country formed a part, were bent upon increasing instead of lessening the difficulties with which Austria was everywhere surrounded, and eager to avail themselves of distractions elsewhere, for the purpose of dictating insolent and exorbitant terms. In short, we believe that the real claims of Hungary, however they may have formed the foundation of the discontent which ripened into war, were used by Kossuth and his colleagues as instruments for their own ambition; and that, by throwing off the mask too precipitately, they opened the eyes of their followers to the true nature of their designs, and forfeited that support which the realm was ready to accord the men who, with a single and patriotic purpose, demanded nothing more than the recognition of the rights of their country.
It was but natural that the intervention of Russia should have been viewed with some uneasiness in the west of Europe. Every movement of that colossal power beyond the boundaries of its own territory excites a feeling of jealousy, singularly disproportionate to the real character of its resources, if Mr Cobden's estimate of these should be adopted as the true one; and we fairly confess that we have no desire to see any considerable augmentation made to the territorial possessions of the Czar. But the assistance which, on this occasion, has been sent to Austria by Russia, however much we may regret the occasion which called the latter into activity, cannot surely be tortured into any aggressive design. Apart from all our jealousies, it was a magnanimous movement on the part of one powerful sovereign in favour of a harassed ally; nor can we see how that assistance could have been refused by Russia, without incurring the reproach of bad faith, and running imminent risk with regard to her own dependencies. Those active revolutionists, the Poles, whose presence behind every barricade has been conspicuously marked and unblushingly avowed, showed themselves foremost in all the disturbances which threatened the dismemberment of Austria. By them the Hungarian army was principally officered; and it now appears, from the intercepted correspondence of their nominal chief, that the Hungarian insurrection was relied upon as the first step for a fresh attempt towards the restoration of a Polish kingdom. Under these circumstances, the Czar felt himself imperatively called upon to act; and his honour has been amply vindicated by the withdrawal of his forces after his mission was accomplished, and the Hungarian insurrection quelled.
It would undoubtedly have been far more satisfactory to every one, if the differences between Austria and Hungary could have been settled without an appeal to arms; but such a settlement was, we apprehend, utterly beyond the powers even of the Peace Congress to effect; and the next best thing is to know that tranquillity has actually been restored. That a great deal of sympathy should be shown for the Hungarians, is, under the circumstances, by no means unnatural. It is no exaggeration to say, that hardly one man out of a thousand, in Britain, comprehends the merits of the dispute, or is able, if called upon, to give an intelligible account of the quarrel. Such amount of knowledge, however, is by no means necessary to qualify a platform orator for holding forth at a moment's notice; and, accordingly, meetings expressive of sympathy with the persecuted Hungarians were called in many of our larger towns, and the usual amount of rhodomontade uttered, by gentlemen who make a point of exhibiting their elocutionary powers upon the slightest colourable pretence. Had these meetings been held earlier, they might have been worth something. We shall not go the length of assuring the very shallow and conceited personages who constitute the oratorical rump, or public debating society of Edinburgh, that their opinions are likely to be esteemed of surpassing importance, even if they were to be heard of so far as St Petersburg or Vienna; for their utter ignorance of the aspect of foreign affairs is such as would excite ridicule in the bosoms of those whom they profess to patronise and applaud. But if they really were impressed with the notion that the claims of Hungary were of such mighty importance, how was it that they tarried until the consideration of all constitutional questions had been swallowed up in war – until those who fully understood the true position of Hungary, and her rights as legally guaranteed and defined, were forced to acknowledge that, through the violence, treachery, and ambition of the insurgent nobles, all hope of a pacific settlement had disappeared; and that the best result which Europe could hope for, was the speedy quenching of an insurrection, now broadly revolutionary and republican, and threatening to spread still wider the devastating flames of anarchy? The explanation we believe to be a very simple one. Most of them knew as much of the affairs of Cappadocia as they did of those of Hungary, and they would have been equally ready to spout in favour of either country.
Late in July, Mr Bernal Osborne, backed by Mr R. M. Milnes, whose knowledge of politics is about equal to his skill in the construction of dactyls, brought forward the Hungarian question in the House of Commons, and thereby gave Lord Palmerston an opportunity of unbosoming himself on that branch of our European relations. His lordship's speech, on that occasion, was very much lauded at the time; but on referring to it now, we are somewhat at a loss to understand how it could have given satisfaction to any one. It was, indeed, as insulting to Austria, whose back was then supposed to be at the wall, as any opponent of constitutional government could have desired. Alliance was sneered at, as a mere empty word of no significance whatever: nor can we much wonder at this ebullition, considering the manner in which his lordship has thought proper to deal with other powers, who attached some value to the term. This topic was, further, a congenial one, inasmuch as it afforded the Foreign Secretary an opportunity of gibing at his predecessor, Lord Aberdeen, whose sense of honour does not permit him to identify the solemn treaties of nations with folios of waste paper; and who, therefore, was held up to ridicule as a pattern of "antiquated imbecility." But, after all this persiflage, which could serve no purpose whatever, save that of giving vent to an unusual secretion of Palmerstonian bile, it appeared that his lordship was actually to do nothing at all. He regretted, just as much as we do, and probably not more than the Austrian cabinet, that no accommodation of differences had taken place. He said, very truly, that whatever the result of the struggle might be, it could not strengthen the stability of the Austrian empire; but at the same time he distinctly repudiated all intention of interfering beyond mere passive advice, and he could not deny the right of Austria, if it thought proper, to call in the aid of the Russian arms. His conclusion, in short, was sound, and we only regret that, while it was so, the tone and temper of his speech were not equally judicious. This debate in the House of Commons was immediately followed up by a public meeting at the London Tavern, presided over by Mr Alderman Salomons.
We had not the good fortune to be present on that occasion; but, from the accounts contained in the morning papers, it must have been an assemblage of a singularly motley kind. There was a considerable muster of Radical members of parliament; the Financial Reform and the Peace Associations were respectively represented; Lord Nugent and Mr Milnes stood forth as delegates from the Bards of Britain; Julian Harney and Mr G. W. M. Reynolds headed a numerous band of Chartists; and Lord Dudley Stuart, as a matter of course, was surrounded by a whiskered phalanx of Poles, Hungarians, Italians, Germans, and Sicilians, each one striving to look more patriotically ferocious than his neighbour. The first sympathetic resolution was moved by a Quaker, and seconded by no less a person than Richard Cobden, who had only been prevented from attending the previous debate in the House of Commons by a swan-hopping expedition on the Thames.
Then it was that Mr Cobden first favoured the world with some economical views, so exceedingly novel and startling, as to excite, even in that audience, unequivocal symptoms of incredulity. He set out by laying it down as a general rule, that every separate state ought to be left to the management of its own affairs, without the interference of any foreign power whatever. "If," said he, "this had been a question simply between Hungary and Austria, I should not have appeared here to-day, nor indeed would it have been necessary for any of us to have appeared here to-day. So long as the Hungarians were left to settle their affairs with the government of Vienna, they were perfectly competent to do it, without the interference of the citizens of London." This is intelligible enough. So long as central governments are merely fighting with their own dependencies, there is no room at all, according to Mr Cobden, for interference. It matters not which side prevails: they must be left wholly to themselves. This doctrine could not, we think, have been very acceptable to the Poles; since it amounts to an entire admission that Russia has a right to deal with them at her pleasure; neither is it altogether consistent with our ideas, or interpretation of the law of nations. But it is Cobden's view, and therefore let it pass, to him, then, it mattered nothing whether Goth or Hun prevailed – it was the intervention of Russia that peremptorily called him to the platform. Now we must own, that we cannot understand this sort of reasoning, though it may possibly be suited to the capacities of a Manchester audience. If, as many people no doubt conscientiously believe, Austria was trampling upon the liberties of a brave and loyal people, not only justice, but humanity demands that our sympathies should be enlisted on their side. We cannot acquiesce in a doctrine which would have left the Greeks (lamentably small sense as they have shown of the benefits of liberty) to toil on for ever under the grievous yoke of the Ottoman: nor are we prepared to carry our apathy to so extreme a length. The intervention of Russia could not, by any possibility, alter the complexion of the quarrel. It might either crush freedom, or maintain constitutional government and the balance of power in Europe; but the principle of the contest, whatever that might be, was declared before Russia appeared, and according as men view it, so should their sympathies be given. The whole question, however, as Mr Cobden put the case, turned upon Russian interference.
If Mr Cobden's next door neighbour happened to have a dispute with his operatives, touching the interpretation of certain points of the Charter, and if the latter, in their zeal for enlightenment, were to set fire to their master's premises, we apprehend that the honourable member for the West Riding, (having neglected his own insurance,) might blamelessly bear a hand to quench the threatening conflagration. Further, if he were assured that the said operatives, assisted by a gang of deserters from his own mills, were trying their hands at an incendiary experiment, preliminary to operating upon his calico warehouses, how could he be blamed, if he sallied to attack the rioters in their first position? Yet, if we are permitted to compare very great things with small, this was precisely the situation of Russia. If she did not assist Austria, the flame would have been kindled in her own provinces; if the Hungarian insurrection had triumphed, Poland would have been up in arms. With the old partition of Poland we have nothing now to do, any more than with the junction of the Slavonic provinces with Austria. Right or wrong, these have long become acknowledged facts in European history, and the boundary divisions have been acquiesced in by a congress of the assembled nations. We cannot go back upon matters of ancient right and occupation; were we to do so, the peace of every nation in Europe must necessarily be disturbed, and no alternative would remain, save the Utopian one of parcelling out territory according to the language of the inhabitants. Boundaries must be settled somehow. They were so settled, by the consent of all the nations, at the treaty of Vienna; and our duty, as well as our interest, is to adhere to that arrangement. Russia, by assisting Austria, has in no way contravened any of the stipulations of that treaty. From the moment when the Hungarian party declared their country independent, and proclaimed a republic, a new cause of discord and misrule was opened in the east of Europe, and the greatest of the eastern potentates was not only entitled but forced to interfere. It by no means follows that we, who uphold this view, have any partiality or liking for Russian institutions. No man who lives in a free country, like ours, can possibly sympathise with despotism, serfism, and that enormous stretch of feudal power which is given to a privileged class – we must regard such things with a feeling nearly akin to abhorrence; nor can we, with our Saxon notions, fancy existence even tolerable in such a state of society. But our likings or disgusts cannot alter matters as they stand. We cannot force other nations to see with our eyes, to think with our thoughts, or to adapt their constitutions according to the measure of our accredited standard of excellence. That amount of irresponsible and uncontrolled action which we term freedom, presupposes the existence of a large and general spread of intelligence throughout the community, fixed laws of property, consolidated social relationship, pure administration of justice, and wisdom and temperance on the part of the governed and the governor. Such things are not the rapid results of months, or years, or centuries. They are of slow growth, but they are the inevitable fruits of order; and very blind and ignorant must that man be who does not see the hand of progress at work even in the institutions of Russia. That country emerged from barbarism later than the rest of Europe, but, since the days of Peter the Czar, its strides towards civilisation have been most rapid. Commerce has been established, manufactures introduced, learning and the arts cultivated, and such a foundation laid as, in no very long time, must perforce secure to all ranks of the people a larger share of freedom than they are now qualified to enjoy. Revolution cannot hasten such a state of matters, but it may materially retard it. Foolish and short-sighted men seem to think that revolt is a synonymous term with freedom, and, accordingly, they hail each fresh outbreak with shouts of indiscriminate approval. They can draw no distinction between the revolt of the barons and that of Jack Cade in England; they are as ready to applaud Spartacus as Brutus; they think a peasant's war as meritorious as the up-raising of the standard of the League. They never stop to consider that freedom is a mere relative term, and that it is worse than useless to pluck down one form of government by violence, unless a better is to be reared in its stead. And who can venture to say that this would have been the case with Hungary? Who would predict it with certainty even of Poland, were that dismembered kingdom to be restored? It is notorious that Poland went to pieces under the weight of its elective monarchy, and the perpetual feuds, turbulence, and tyranny of a lawless and fierce aristocracy. No doubt, men will fight for these things – they will fight for traditions, and bad ones too, as keenly as for the most substantial benefits. A century ago, the Highlanders would have fought to the death for clanship, chieftainship, heritable jurisdictions, and the right of foray and of feud; but will any man now raise up his voice in favour of the old patriarchal constitution? In Ireland, at this moment, we believe that a large body of the Celts is willing to stand up for a restoration of the days of Malachi of the Golden Collar – a form of government which, we presume, even an O'Connell would decline. This is just the case with our sympathisers. They take it for granted that, because there is revolt, there must be a struggle for freedom, and they are perfectly ready to accept, without the slightest examination, any legend that may be coined for the nonce. Gullible as a considerable number of the British public may be, especially that section of the public which delights in platform oratory, we really could not have believed that any assemblage could be so utterly ignorant, as to receive a statement to the effect that the old constitution of Hungary bore a close resemblance to our own!
We are tempted here to insert an extract from the works of a popular writer regarding the constitution of Poland, because it expresses, in excellent language, the opinions which we are attempting to set forth in this article, and denounces the folly of those who confound the term freedom with its just and rational application. Will the reader favour us by perusing the following passage with attention? – when he has done so, we shall state from whose eloquent pen it proceeded.
"Of how trifling consequence it must be to the practical minded and humane people of Great Britain, or to the world at large, whether Poland be governed by a king of this dynasty or of that – whether he be lineally descended from Boleslas the Great, or of the line of the Jagellons – contrasted with the importance of the inquiries as to the social and political condition of its people – whether they be as well or worse governed, clothed, fed, and lodged in the present day as compared with any former period, – whether the mass of the people be elevated in the scale of moral and religious beings, – whether the country enjoys a smaller or a larger amount of the blessings of peace; or whether the laws for the protection of life and property are more or less justly administered. These are the all-important inquiries about which we busy ourselves; and it is to cheat us of our stores of philanthropy, by an appeal to the sympathy with which we regard these vital interests of a whole people, that the declaimers and writers upon the subject invariably appeal to us on behalf of the oppressed and enslaved Polish nation– carefully obscuring, amidst the cloud of epithets about 'ancient freedom,' 'national independence,' 'glorious republic,' and the like, the fact that, previously to the dismemberment, the term nation implied only the nobles; – that, down to the partition of their territory, about nineteen out of every twenty of the inhabitants were slaves, possessing no rights, civil or political; that about one in every twenty was a nobleman – and that that body of nobles formed the very worst aristocracy of ancient or modern times; putting up and pulling down their kings at pleasure; passing selfish laws, which gave them the power of life and death over their serfs, whom they sold and bought like dogs or horses; usurping, to each of themselves, the privileges of a petty sovereign, and denying to all besides the meanest rights of human beings; and, scorning all pursuits as degrading, except that of the sword, they engaged in incessant wars with neighbouring states, or plunged their own country into all the horrors of anarchy, for the purpose of giving employment to themselves and their dependants." And the same writer, after remarking upon the character and conduct of the privileged class in Poland, in language which is just as applicable to those of the Hungarian nobles, thus accounts for the insurrection in 1830. The Italics are his own. "We hesitate not emphatically to assert, that it was wholly, and solely, and exclusively, at the instigation, and for the selfish benefit, of this aristocratic faction of the people, that the Polish nation suffered for twelve months the horrors of civil war, was thrown back in her career of improvement, and has since had to endure the rigours of a conqueror's vengeance. The Russian government was aware of this; and its severity has since been chiefly directed towards the nobility." And in a note appended to the above paragraph he says, "The peasants joined, to a considerable extent, the standard of revolt; but this was to be expected, in consequence of the influence necessarily exercised over them by the superior classes. Besides, patriotism or nationality is an instinctive virtue, that sometimes burns the brightest in the rudest and least reasoning minds; and its manifestation bears no proportion to the value of the possessions defended, or the object to be gained. The Russian serfs at Borodino, the Turkish slaves at Ismail, and the lazzaroni of Naples, fought for their masters and oppressors more obstinately than the free citizens of Paris or Washington did, at a subsequent period, in defence of those capitals."
And who was the author of these very lucid and really excellent remarks? We reply, Richard Cobden, Esq. The curious in such matters will find these, and many similar passages, in a pamphlet entitled Russia, by a Manchester Manufacturer, which was published in 1836, for the purpose of showing that, on the whole, it would be an advantage to British commerce if Russia were to lay violent hands on Turkey, and possess herself of Constantinople!
But it is time we should return to the London Tavern meeting, where we left Mr Cobden, this time denouncing the active interference of Russia. Here the apostle of peace was certainly upon ticklish ground. Large as his estimate undoubtedly is of his own influence and power, he could hardly expect, that, because he and some other gentlemen of inferior endowments were pleased to hold a meeting in the London Tavern, and pass resolutions condemnatory of the conduct of the Czar, the immediate consequence would be a withdrawal of the Russian forces. Under such circumstances, as he must have perfectly well known, the expression of his opinion was not worth the splinter of a rush to the Hungarians, unless, indeed, he were prepared to follow up his words by deeds. On the other hand, he was debarred, by some fifty public declarations, from advocating the propriety of a war: not only upon the general pacific principle – for that might easily have been evaded, – but upon economical considerations connected with his darling scheme of reducing the British navy and army, which would be clearly incompatible with the commencement of a general European conflict. An ordinary man, entertaining such views and sentiments, would probably have considered himself as lodged between the horns of an inextricable dilemma. Not so Cobden, whose genius rose to the difficulty. The experience of a hundred platform fights had taught him this great truth, that no proposition was too monstrous to be crammed down the public throat, provided the operator possessed the requisite share of effrontery; and he straightway proceeded, secundum artem, to exhibit a masterpiece of his skill.
Probably not one man in all that room but had been impressed, from his youth upwards, with a wholesome terror and respect for the magnitude of the Russian power. That, at all events, was the feeling of the Poles, and decidedly of the Polish champions. But in less than an instant they were disabused. Most of our readers must have seen how a small figure, painted on a tiny slip of glass, may, when passed through the aperture of a magic lantern, be made to reflect the attitude and dimensions of a giant: Cobden's trick was exactly the opposite of this; he made the actual giant appear in the dwindled proportions of a dwarf. "I will tell you," said he, "how we can bring moral force to bear on these armed despots. We can stop the supplies. (Loud cheers.) Why, Russia can't carry on two campaigns beyond her own frontiers, without coming to Western Europe for a loan. She never has done so, without being either subsidised by England, or borrowing money from Amsterdam. I tell you I have paid a visit there, and I assert that they cannot carry on two campaigns in Hungary, without either borrowing money in Western Europe or robbing the bank at St Petersburg. (A laugh, and a cry of 'Question.') That must be a Russian agent, a spy, for this is the question. I know," continued our magniloquent Richard, "that the Russian party, here and abroad, would rather that I should send against them a squadron of cavalry and a battery of cannon, than that I should fire off the facts that I am about to tell you. I say, then, that Russia cannot carry on two campaigns without a loan." We believe that the latter part of Mr Cobden's statement is tolerably accurate, so that he need not give himself any further trouble about the production of his indicated horse and artillery. We agree with him that Russia might be puzzled to carry on two vigorous campaigns without a loan; but we should be glad to know what country in Europe is not in the same predicament? War, as everybody knows, is a very costly matter – not much cheaper than revolution, though a good deal more speedy in its results – and every nation which engages in it must, perforce, liquidate the expense. Great Britain could not, any more than Russia, go to war without a loan. In such an event, the only difference would be that the British loan must necessarily be six or seven times greater than that of Russia, for this simple reason, that Russia has a large standing army levied and prepared, whereas we have not. Now what is there to prevent Russia from negotiating a loan? The first question, we apprehend, is the state of her finances – let us see whether there is any symptom of approaching bankruptcy in these. The debt of Russia, according to the most recent authorities, is seventy-six millions, being as near as possible one tenth of our own. Her revenue is about seventeen millions, or one-third of ours. So far, therefore, as the mere elements of credit go, Russia would, in the eyes of the capitalist, be the more eligible debtor of the two. There could, we apprehend, be no possible doubt of her solvency, for, with large resources behind, she has a mere fraction of a debt, and her power of raising revenue by taxes has been little exercised. Our readers will better understand this by keeping in mind, that, while the revenue presently levied is just one-third of ours, the population of Russia is considerably more than double that of Great Britain and Ireland. Mr Cobden, however, accepting, as we presume he must do, the above official facts, draws from them inferences of a very startling character. "Don't let any one talk," said he, "of Russian resources. It is the poorest and most beggarly country in Europe. It has not a farthing. Last year there was an immense deficit in its income as compared with its expenditure, and during the present financial year it will be far worse. Russia a strong political power! Why, there is not so gigantic a political imposture in all Europe." And again, "Russia a strong, a powerful, and a rich country! Don't believe any one who tells you so in future. Refer them to me." We feel deeply obliged to Mr Cobden for the last suggestion, but we would rather, with his permission, refer to facts. If the poorest and most beggarly country in Europe has contrived to rear its magnificent metropolis from the marshes of the gelid Neva, to create and maintain large and well-equipped fleets in the Baltic and the Black seas, and to keep up a standing army of about half a million of men, without increasing its permanent debt beyond the amount already specified, all we shall say is, that the semi-civilised Russian is in possession of an economical secret utterly unknown to the statesmen of more favoured climes, and that the single farthing in his hand, has produced results more wonderful than any achieved by the potency of the lamp of Aladdin. But the climax has yet to come. Waxing bolder and bolder on the strength of each successive assertion of Russian weakness and impotency, the Apostle of Peace assumed the attitude of defiance: "If Russia should take a step that required England, or any other great maritime power, like the United States, to attack that power, why, we should fall like a thunderbolt upon her. You would in six months crumple that empire up, or drive it into its own dreary fastnesses, as I now crumple up that piece of paper in my hand!!!" Here is a pretty fellow for you! This invincible fire-eater is the same man who, for the last couple of years, has been agitating for the reduction of the army and navy, on the ground that the whole world was in a state of the profoundest peace, and likely so to remain! This crumpler-up and defier of empires is the gentleman who held forth this bygone summer, at Paris, on the wickedness of war, and on the spread of fraternity and brotherly love among the nations! Why, if old Admiral Drake had risen from the dead, he could not have spoken in a more warlike strain, only the temper and tone of his remarks would have been different. A hero is bold but temperate: a demagogue blustering and pot-valiant.