According to some the most exemplary monarch | that ever wore a crown might serve for a foil to set off his superior virtues; while, according to others, the most despicable tyrants of antiquity fell short of his atrocious demerits. Looking to the race from which he sprang, to the antecedents of his vast empire and despotic throne, there may be truth in both extremes. Peter the Great himself might with perfect justice be described in either way; even the terrible Ivan IV, though a monster of ferocity, possessed the germ of qualities which might have made him the benefactor of mankind. Such extremes have always been characteristic of the barbarous northmen, and we may not be wrong in referring to racial causes for the solution of this problem of contrarieties otherwise inexplicable. That Nicholas is a good father, an affectionate husband, and a kind and courteous host, appears at least as plain from the testimony of those whom opportunity has rendered capable of judging, as it is that in his kingly capacity he is arbitrary, severe, and exacting, and, when his own dignity or prerogatives are concerned, relentlessly implacable. The war which he secretly prepared against France, and which was proved beyond the probability of doubt by the seizure of state-papers at Warsaw in the portfolio of the grand duke Constantine, show that he deceived Louis Philippe at that critical period. That he was equally false and treacherous towards Austria was shown by documents seized at the same time. Later, his proposal for the annihilation of the Turkish empire and the division of its territory between Russia, France, and England, as disclosed the other day by sir Hamilton Seymour, our ambassador, manifests that he has no reluctance to any extremes of political duplicity or injustice to gain his own ends. We need hardly revert to the disgracefully mendacious aspect of the whole ceremony of protocolling by which he manœuvred successfully to fence off the western powers from taking active measures in the present war until his own preparations were completed. All these things seem to evidence but too plainly that the ingrained falsehood, corruption, and dishonesty of the Russian character finds it countenance and its climax in the head of the Russian people. Among politicians, perhaps, they may admit of one excuse, namely, that they are exercised by the autocrat for the aggrandisement of his country; but no such plea, nor any plea, for fraud and injustice can be admitted. Up to the present time Nicholas has been extremely popular among his own subjects, and his popularity may be accounted for from many causes. In the first place, he is a tall, powerful, and handsome man, and mere personal bulk and comeliness always go a great way with a barbarous people. | In the second place, he is master of the ad-captandum arts which delight an illiterate populace, and never omits an opportunity of appearing in the character of father of his people. In the case of any public calamity he is always at hand to inspire confidence by his presence. Does a fire break out in the capital? he personally directs the measures that are taken to put a stop to the progress of the flames. Does the Neva overflow its banks-which it does whenever a strong west wind blows over lake Ladoga-and do the waters deluge St. Petersburg, sweeping away houses and streets with all their inhabitants ? he is sure to fly to the rescue of the unfortunates, and to provide for their immediate shelter and comfort. It is suggestive to contrast these paternal demonstrations with the utter disregard of human life evidenced by such acts as the sudden rebuilding of the winter palace, in which thousands of lives were wantonly sacrificed to the gratification of a luxurious whim; and to the resentment which consigned the helpless children of political offenders to the wilds of Siberia, and which renders him, it is said, deaf to cries for mercy uttered imploringly after a quarter of a century's endurance of underved punishment. The subjects of the czar, though consisting of a number of various tribes and races, may be divided into three classes. These are the nobles, proprietors of estates containing so many souls or serfs; the merchants, a considerable proportion of whom are naturalized foreigners, and not a few of whom are serfs whose owners share their profits; and the serfs, who form five-sevenths of the whole. The nobles are noted for their luxury, extravagance, and addiction to gambling, their general ignorance of what constitutes real refinement, and their ceremonious devotion to the most trifling details of fashion and etiquette which they have imported from southern nations. The merchants are remarkable for their money-getting spirit, and for the stolid pertinacity with which they pursue their object in spite of all obstacles. The serfs are the tillers of the soil, and the material from which the immense armies of Russia are recruited. The serf who is the property of an owner residing on his own estates is a happy man compared with him who, together with the land which he tills, has been made over to a middleman, who, racking both the soil and the workmen upon it, has no other object in view than to make a gain of both. The law, however, protects the serf to a certain extent. His owner may beat him as often as he chooses, but cannot compel him to work more than three days a week; the other three being allowed him to work for his own subsistence. If a serf dies possessed of property, it passes to his owner, as he is not competent to will it away, though there are means of eluding this law. It happens constantly that serfs of talent or business ability purchase from their owners, by the payment of what is called an obrok, or yearly stipend, the liberty to trade on their own account, and many of these serfs are at this present moment the most wealthy men in the czar's dominions. Nearly all classes in Russia, from the highest nobles to the lowest serfs, are notoriously addicted to intemperance. This is owing very much to the fact that the czar is the monopolist of intoxicating drinks. A nauseous kind of brandy, distilled from all kinds of vegetable refuse, is almost the only liquor obtainable by the serfs, and the smell of this (offensive in the highest degree to strangers) pervades every inhabited portion of the vast empire. Nicholas sells the right of retailing it to innumerable agents throughout his dominions, and virtually makes drunkenness loyalty by deriving an enormous revenue from the demoralization of his ignorant subjects. It is a fact that everywhere a marked consideration is shown for a drunken man, and the police never interfere with him, but to place him out of harm's way, lest any injury should befall him. A friend calculates that the brandy-shops stand in relation to the schools in the ratio of a million to one. "To-morrow afternoon at three." "Chevreuse!" thought I, "surely I know that name. Chevreuse why, to be sure; it is the next post beyond Versailles; the road winds through the valley of Port-Royal, and close under the walls of the monastery. . . . . For shame! this is my hundredth trip to the city of Louis le Grand, and I have not yet had even a glance at those noble ruins which testify still so loudly to the power of religion. I know every nook and corner in the splendid mansion of the persecutor, and I cannot say that I have even attempted to spell the funeral inscription which M. Hamion carved on the tombstone of Nicole or la mère Angélique! The most revolting characteristic of Russian society is the practical dishonesty which prevails in all departments. Nicholas once said to his minister, "There is but one man in the empire who does not steal, and that is myself." If he alluded to public functionaries, it is probable that he was not far wrong. According to the testimony of travellers, to journey through Russia is to be robbed at every stage; the pettiest clerk plunders you with the utmost coolness, and any complaint to his superior only leads to a plunder-To-morrow I start for Port-Royal." As the clock ing by him on a larger scale. The police, it would appear, are the greatest robbers of all. A Russian whose goods have been stolen never considers them irrecoverably lost till they have got into the hands of the police; and it is therefore his policy to conceal his loss from them, and try the effect of a treaty with the thief. This is often successful; but if the officers of justice catch the thief, they catch the goods too, and the owner seldom beholds them again. struck three, the next day, I was seated in the diligence, and, upon reconnoitring around me, I discovered amongst my fellow-travellers the little old gentleman I had already met at the coach-office. We soon entered into conversation together, and the first remark made by my companion was one which rendered me rather desirous of becoming acquainted with him. The automedon under whose directions we rolled along had no doubt the most cogent reasons to be annoyed at the slow movements of his team; the fault was that he expressed his dissatisfaction every now and then by an oath. From the preceding brief sketches of Russian history, gathered from various sources, our readers may learn something of the past and present condition of the people with whom we are at war. “Poor man!” sighed my unknown friend, as a It will be perceived that they are a semi-barbarous tremendous imprecation burst forth from coachey's people, upon whom the forms and usages of civili-lips-" poor man! he does not know what it is to zation have been thrust by their rulers, who have respect God's holy name." failed to perceive that liberty is the natural precursor of enlightenment, and that in endeavouring to build a great nation upon the basis of slavery they have laboured only to perpetuate ignorance and to make despotism a necessity. On the future of Russia it would be presumptuous for us to speculate. Dreadful as are the miseries occasioned by the present war, they may, through the agency of Him who educes good out of evil, issue in the introduction to that empire of political freedom. AN EXCURSION TO PORT-ROYAL. I HAD once more visited the palace of Versailles; I had wandered through the park, mused in the bosquets, and endeavoured to reduce into some definite shape, by the power of imagination, the thousand phantoms with which my mind associates the names of Bossuet, Racine, Condé. At last, thoroughly tired, I returned to the hôtel de Paris, asked for a cup of coffee, and, whilst an awkward, dirty-looking stable-boy was harnessing two miserable rossinantes to the lumbering diligence, I hastily put down a few notes in my memorandum-book. Well," said I to myself, as coachey requested me to take my place, "I believe I could now pass a very creditable examination on the history and antiquities of this town. I must seek new quarters, and find something to discourse of elsewhere." At this juncture a venerable old gentleman entered the coach-yard, and, approaching the person who was taking the passengers' fares, "If you please, ma'am," inquired he, "when does the Chevreuse voiture start ?” "I am afraid, sir," observed I, "that the great mass of the people in this country have very little scruple in breaking any of the ten commandments. "Two hundred years ago matters were rather different in this neighbourhood; at all events, when the ouvriers of the monastery were at work their conversation was about spiritual things. They all knew the psalter by heart, and some of them the New Testament. But, instead of blessings, now we have curses; the tongues which were formed to sing the praises of their Maker are busily employed in helping on the triumph of the great arch-enemy." "You just now alluded to the monastery," continued I;" it is, I presume, Port-Royal you mean; may I ask whether you are connected with Well, sir," answered the old gentleman, with a good-humoured smile, "I am not ashamed to say that if these were the days of Louvois and Madame de Maintenon, I should most likely be shut up in the Bastille as a confirmed Jansenist, instead of having the pleasure of travelling with you; but if you do not believe that a deep assent to the truths of the gospel is heresy, and if you are not proceeding farther than Chevreuse, I shall be most happy to walk with you through the ruins of Port-Royal." I readily accepted the offer, anticipating a capital opportunity of gaining the information I needed about some of the most eminent characters in the modern history of France. "I cannot feel too thankful," said I, "at having so valuable a cicerone on the present occasion; and although the dust is somewhat troublesome, we could not very well wish for a finer afternoon." "August is generally a delightful month in France," replied the Jansenist; "and we are now more than half through it. To-day is the 19th." Indeed! the anniversary of the death of Blaise Pascal!" "Yes; as you seem to be fond of antiquarian researches, you have, I suppose, looked at that great man's tomb in the church of Saint Etienne du Mont, in Paris ?" "I have; and I think that Périer's inscription is the beau idéal of a christian epitaph. It often strikes me," continued I, "that some incidents of Pascal's life are quite as amusing as the circumstances related in the first provincial letters." Certainly. Port-Royal, you will not be surprised to hear, is full of that illustrious thinker. I shall make you taste some peaches off his favourite tree, and show you the well dug under his direction. the hill, forming a complete steep or precipice, extending in an amphitheatrical shape, and shagged with forest trees, chiefly beech, horse and Spanish chesnut, lime, and ash; and in the bottom a beautiful level plain, watered by a brook, and terminated by an imposing range of wooded hills; in the midst, and almost directly under our feet, covered with a profusion of creepers and wild flowers, are the silent remains of the monastery of PortRoyal des Champs. "The view, without presenting any particular feature of magnificence, is yet one of the most completely beautiful it is possible to conceive. I could scarcely imagine, whilst contemplating it, that the view I was looking at was the same place which Madame de Sévigné describes as a frightful desert.' Its character, on the contrary, is singuBut I see that we are at our jour-larly that of cheerfulness and elegance, though ney's end; let us get out of this box, and breathe combined with the most perfect stillness and secluthe fresh air once more. sion. Perhaps it may be, in some degree, altered from the circumstance that formerly all the circumjacent hills were shagged with lofty forests, which would both increase their apparent altitude and darkness of colouring; whereas, now, though beautifully wooded, there is a sufficiently great proportion of coppice to give the forest trees room to expand in a broad shade, instead of forcing them to tower into tall timber trees." Having reached this stage of my narrative, I intended to present the reader with a description, written by myself, of the locality rendered for ever memorable by the solitaries of Port-Royal. But, finding in a work on the same subject a sketch which it would be vain to try and improve upon, I shall transcribe it without any scruple. On reaching the verge of the deep descent, we for the first time beheld Port-Royal. Imagine The diligence had long disappeared from our sight, and we could only catch the distant sound of the wheels rattling down the hill; yet, still we were there, standing at the very spot where we had alighted, absorbed, so to say, in the lovely prospect before us and overwhelmed by the associations with wlh it is indissolubly connected. Just below us was the road leading to the entrance gate; on the left stood another imposing gateway, formerly belonging to the hôtel of the duchesse de Longueville. We could distinguish in the distance the house of Tillemont, the historian; in another direction a small farm constituted the only remains of Les Granges, Arnauld's favourite residence. I do not know how long our reverie would have lasted, had it not been for a little boy who came running up to us, and addressing my venerable cicerone, said: 'If you please, Monsieur Silvy, the dinner is quite ready.' M. Silvy laughed outright. "I had positively forgotten all about it," said he; and turning towards me, "I hope, sir, you will excuse my rudeness. A little refreshment after our ride will do us both good; we dine early here, and in the evening we can have some more talk on Port Royal. If you cannot favour us with your company for a longer space of time, the coach returns to Paris to-morrow at ten." It was no use venturing upon an excuse, or begging pardon for the liberty I was taking. To tell the truth, I felt very anxious to know something more of M. Silvy, and, nothing loth, I walked back with him to the quarters where, according to the latest intelligence, a French pot-aufeu was already occupying its wonted station on the dinner-table. My Jansenist friend was, as I subsequently discovered, a retired magistrate, who, after having filled one of the highest posts in the parliament of Paris, now spends the declining years of a useful and active life in retirement and prayer. Firmly attached to the principles for which the community of Port Royal suffered persecution, he lived, so to say, in the past, and, like a second" Old Mortality," he endeavoured to rescue from destruction the remains of the once far-famed monastery. He had purchased the estate over which these interesting ruins were scattered, and with unceasing energy he had applied himself to the task of repairing in some measure the damage done to them by the hand of time and the intolerance of men. When we entered his drawing-room, I found the floor, the tables, the chairs, indeed every article of furniture, covered with relics of the past. Some persons might perhaps have sueered at this accumulation of lumber, and spoken contemptuously of M. Silvy's antiquarian nonsense. That was what I could not find courage to do. Slabs of tombstones, fragments of church ornaments, wormeaten old books, lay scattered about; on the walls were several fine old pictures by Philippe de Champagne, including portraits of Arnauld d'Andilly, and la Mère Angélique. In the midst of all these mementoes of past ages, the appurtenances of a dinner-table seemed rather incongruous; nor was it without some difficulty that we made our way to the soup tureen, through a barricade of Port Royal débris; we, however, ultimately succeeded in our attempt, and I must acknowledge that I never spent a more pleasant evening than the one I enjoyed under the roof of one of the last survivors of the French Jansenists. In the course of conversation the subject of religion was naturally introduced, and the reader will easily believe that I did not hesitate to give my own views respecting the proportion of error, which, as Protestants, we must grieve to find mixed so largely with the Jansenists' notions of divine truth; yet they were undoubtedly men agonizing to enter in at the strait gate; they were upright, like Job; they feared God and eschewed evil. Their hearts were no sooner illuminated by the spirit of the gospel, than, with him, they abhorred themselves, and repented in dust and ashes; they were branches engrafted into the true vine, and their names still shine as stars in the dark and distant horizon of departed centuries. That Rome persecuted such men is surely an affecting proof that its system casts out evangelical truth wherever it meets it in active operation. M. Silvy related to me many deeply interesting particulars concerning the different members of the community, and it is from his conversations that I have derived the greater part of the information I possess on the subject. With what enthusiasm he spoke of Pascal, of Arnauld, of Racine! How feelingly he described the final closing of Port Royal des Champs, and the dispersion of its inmates in the year 1709! After dinner we walked out again; we visited every nook and corner to which anything of historical interest was attached, and I there studied the seventeenth century from a point of view contrasting most singularly with that which Versailles suggests to the careful observer. Out of the various personages who lived at Port Royal des Champs, only a very few comparatively "Esther" and are known to English readers. Athalie," the " Provincial Letters," the "Treatise on Logic," and other works, have no doubt insured to their respective authors a world-wide celebrity; but besides the writers of these a great many more deserve to be mentioned who spent their life in performing deeds of charity, and whose only ambition was to be numbered amongst the Lord's jewels. These excellent men have left behind them the fragrance of a consistent Christian career, and they should, for the benefit of the church, obtain after their death the celebrity they shunned in the days of their pilgrimage. The house called Les Granges, which M. Silvy has selected as his own residence, is reduced to less than half the original building. Besides Arnauld, it was inhabited by Le Maitre, the physician Hamon, and several others. In Hamon's room are still to be found the furnace, oven, mortar, and various utensils which he used for preparing medicines for the poor. Through this room was a little light closet in which he slept on a board, instead of a mattress. The staples which held his bookcase yet remain, as well as the alarum by which he called himself to midnight prayer. Arnauld's apartments are rather large, and consist of several rooms opening into each other. From the windows, which, like all the others in the house, were only the size of casements, the prospect is delightful, extending over the whole valley below to the wooded hills beyond, and including the spires of the little churches of Vaumurier and Saint Lambert. Amongst the recluses were persons from every class of society; soldiers, statesmen, peers of the realm, divines, poets, physicians, all contributed their share to the growth of Port Royal and the edification of France. Entire families, converted by one of M. de Saint Cyran's sermons, or by reading the word of God, forsook, with mistaken sincerity, all the pleasures of society, and sought in seclusion from the world that peace which passeth all understanding. The piety and reliance upon God's mercy which characterised the Port-royalists shone as conspicuously amongst their lower dependants. On another occasion, Pierre having been compelled to receive a handsome present by the court of Toulouse, whom he had assisted in catching some game, he went and took it immediately to the monastery, saying: "I do not know what to do with this money, it is an encumbrance to me; lay it out as you please.' On one fine day in July the dauphin had gone out a hunting with his courtiers. The stag, after starting from the woods of Saint Cloud, dashed off in the direction of Saint Germain, apparently de-munity whose annals fill the brightest page in the termined to weary his pursuers, and, at all events, not to yield without making a gallant struggle. Away galloped the hunters, mad with excitement, whilst the hills rang with the notes of the bugle and the yelling of the hounds. Twice the stag crossed the Seine, twice the dauphin's party rushed in its pursuit; at last, weary and exhausted, the noble animal threw itself into a pond within a few yards from the monastery of Port Royal. How to get at it then was a problem which none of the courtiers seemed anxious to solve; and after a day's hard work, the prospect of being obliged to return to Versailles empty handed was rather mortifying, when a man dressed in the habiliments of a peasant, and carrying a spade, approached the prince himself, and taking off his hat, asked in a respectful manner, if his royal highness would allow him to try and get the stag out of the pond. "Allow! my friend," answered the dauphin; we shall be very much obliged to you if you will do that job for us, and I'll reward you for the trouble.' In a short time the animal was safely landed. "Bravely done!" exclaimed the dauphin. Pray, what is your name ?" "Pierre Bourchier, my lord, to do you service." Well, Pierre Bourchier," answered the prince, "here are twenty-five crowns as a keepsake.' "If your highness will excuse me," said Pierre, "I had rather not take the money. "And pray what may be your reason for doing so ?" asked the dauphin. "The persons whom I serve provide for all my wants with so much charity, that I want nothing. That providence on which I rely has never forsaken me; and if I continue faithful to God, I am very sure I shall never be forsaken." Language such as this sounded, unfortunately, somewhat strangely to the courtiers; at first they concluded that Pierre Bourchier was a fool; when, however, they heard that he belonged to the community of Port Royal, they passed from feelings of contempt to a sense of the deepest admiration. They continued to press him to accept the money, telling him that if he had no occasion for it himself, he could give it to the poor. He replied: "Gentlemen, you can give it to the poor your selves, which will be better.* *After all, the two actions performed by this Port-royalist savour a little of an erroneous judgment. The refusal of the money would seem to imply a recognition on his part of the monkish doctrine that poverty is a virtue; whereas money, be it much or little, is an object for wise stewardship. The I might easily fill a volume with the interesting anecdotes which, in the course of an evening's conversation, I gathered from M. Silvy's reminiscences; but my only object, on the present occasion, is to give the reader an idea of the comliterary and religious history of France. Its ruin was brought about by the efforts of the Jesuits, who, ever since the accession of Louis XIV to the throne, had been unceasingly endeavouring to suppress throughout the kingdom every manifestation of opinion not strictly in accordance with the traditions of the Romish church. It will be remembered that Jansenius, bishop of Ypres, had written a work in which, for the purpose of upholding the doctrine of free grace and justification by faith, he had collected and arranged together all the passages on the same subject he could find in the writings of Augustine. The opposers of these doctrines selected from the volume of Jansenius five propositions, which appeared to them the most erroneous in their nature, and the most pernicious in their tendency; they employed every means to have these propositions condemned by the court of Rome; and having obtained to this effect two bulls from popes Innocent x and Alexander VII, their next object was to secure their promulgation in the dominions of the French king. An assembly of court bishops drew up a declaration, which was subsequently made more valid still by the king's own signature, and which became obligatory on all ecclesiastical persons throughout France. This declaration contained two points; the former to the effect that the five famous propositions on the subject of divine grace were to be found in Jansenius; the latter maintained the heretical character of these propositions. Believing, as they did, that the five propositions were in substance maintained by Jansenius, the solitaries of Port Royal would have been guilty of an untruth had they subscribed to the pope's declaration; on the other hand, if they refused to sign, they were lost. In this dreadful situation, the thought of a compromise struck the firmest minds. A negotiation was opened with the archbishop of Paris, for the purpose of endeavouring to obtain from him a pastoral letter conceived in moderate expressions. Several meetings took place amongst the Jansenists, Pascal and Domat deciding against all compliance contrary to Christian truth and sincerity, whilst Nicole and Arnauld wrote in favour of conditional obedience. The latter prevailed; the authority of Arnauld, especially, carried along with it the votes of the majority. Port Royal had breathed its last! service, too, which he rendered in capturing the hidden deer was (whatever sporting readers may think of it), a questionable piece of benevolence. |
