Russia in 1839 -Empire of the Czar: A Journey Through Eternal Russia

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them to be, but as he actually sees them. And yet, notwithstanding all the independence on which I plume myself, I am often forced, for the sake of my personal safety, to sooth the rude self-love of this jealous nation, for all semi-barbarous people are suspicious. Let it not be supposed that my opinions on Russia and the Russians will surprise the diplomatic strangers who have had the leisure or the taste to study this empire: their opinions are the same as mine, though they will not confess it openly. Happy is the observer who is so situated that no one may have the right of reproaching him with an abuse of confidence ! At the same time, I do not disguise from myself the inconveniences of my liberty: to labour in the cause of truth, it is not sufficient that we perceive it; we must manifest it also to others. The fault of hermit minds is that they are too much influenced by their emotions while changing at each moment their point of view, for the solitude of the mind is favorable to the power of imagination, and this power causes it to be easily moved.

But there are readers who can and ought to extract advantage out of my apparent contradictions, by discerning, through my capricious and movable pictures, the exact shapes of persons and of things. Few writers are courageous enough to leave the reader to perform a part of their task; few dare brave the reproach of inconsistency rather than charge their conscience with an affected merit. When the experience of the day has falsified the conclusions of the previous evening, I do not fear to show it. With the sincerity which I profess, my travels become my confessions. The men whose opinions are formed in

212 THE BRIDGE OF THE NEVA.

advance, are all method, all order, and they consequently escape minute criticism ; but those who like me, say what they feel without troubling themselves as regards what they have felt, must expect to pay the penalty of their careless candour. This ingenuous and superstitious respect for truth is no doubt a flattery to the reader, but it is a flattery dangerous in the present day; and I sometimes, therefore, fear that the world in which Ave live cannot be worthy of the compliment.

I shall, in this case, have risked everything to satisfy the love of truth, a virtue which no one possesses, and by my imprudent zeal in sacrificing to a divinity which has no longer a temple, in taking an allegory for a reality, I shall miss the glory of the martyr and pass only for a simpleton. In a society where falsehood always obtains its reward, good faith is necessarily punished. The world has its crosses on which to nail every truth.

To meditate on these and many other matters, I stopped for a long time on the middle of the great bridge of the Neva. I wished to engrave in my memory the two different pictures which, by simply turning round, without leaving my place, I could enjoy. In the east was the dark sky and the bright earth, in the west the clear sky and the earth involved in shade: in the opposition of these two faces of Petersburg there was a symbolic meaning, into which I fancied I could penetrate. In the west I saw the ancient, in the east, the modern Petersburg; the past, the old city, was shrouded in night—the new, the future city, was revealed in radiance.

Petersburg appears to me less beautiful than Ve-

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nice, but more extraordinary. They are both colossi raised by fear. Venice was the work of unmixed fear; the last Romans preferred flight to death, and the fruit of their fear became one of the world's wonders. Petersburg is equally the result of terror, but of a pious terror, for Russian policy has known how to convert obedience into a dogma. The Russian people are accounted very religious ; it may be so : but what kind of religion can that be which is forbidden to be taught ? They never preach in the Russian churches. The gospel would proclaim liberty to the Slavonians.

This fear of things being understood, which they desire should be believed, seems to me suspicious. The more reason and knowledge contract the sphere of faith, and the brighter that divine light, thus concentrated in its focus, becomes; the less people believe, the more fervent is their belief. Sm`ns of the cross

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are no proofs of devotion ; and, notwithstanding their genuflexions and other external evidences of piety, the Russians, in their prayers, seem to me to think more of their emperor than their God. ' Awake me when you come to the subject of God,' said an ambassador, about to be put to sleep in a Russian church by the imperial liturgy.

Sometimes I feel ready to participate in the superstition of this people. Enthusiasm become» contagious when it is or appears to be general; but the moment the symptoms lay hold of me, I think of Siberia, that indispensable auxiliary of Muscovite civilisation, and immediately I recover my calmness and independence.

Political faith is more firm here than religious faith; the unity of the Greek church is only apparent: the sects, reduced to silence, dig their way under-

214RELIGION IN RUSSIA.

ground; but nations will only remain mutes for a time; sooner or later the day of discussion must arrive, religion, politics, all will speak and explain themselves at last. Whenever the right of speech shall be restored to this muzzled people, the astonished world will hear so many disputes arise, that it will believe the confusion of Babel again returned. It is by religious dissensions that a social revolution will be one day brought about in Russia.

'When I approach the emperor and see his dignity and beauty, I admire the marvel. A man like him is rarely seen any where, but on the throne he is a ph?nix. I rejoice in living at a time when such a prodigy exists, for I take as much pleasure in showing respect as others do in offering insult.

Nevertheless, I examine, with scrupulous care, the objects of my respect, from whence it results that when I closely consider this personage, distinguished from all others upon earth, I fancy that his head has two faces like that of Janus, and that the words violence, exile, oppression, or their full equivalent — Siberia, are engraved on the face which is not presented towards me. This idea haunts mc unceasingly, even when I speak to him. It is in vain that I strive only to think of what I say to him; my imagination, in spite of myself, travels from Warsaw to Tobolsk, and that single word, Warsaw, revives all my distrust.

Does the world know that, at the present hour, the roads of Asia arc once again covered with exiles, torn from their hearths and proceeding on foot to their tomb, as the herds leave their pastures for the slaughter-house ? This revival of wrath is attributable to

POLAND—THE FUTURE.21o

a pretended Polish conspiracy, a conspiracy of youthful madmen, who would have been heroes had they succeeded ; and who, their attempt being desperate, only appear to ine the more generously devoted. My heart bleeds for the exiles, their families, and their country. What will be the resiut when the oppressors of this corner of the earth, where chivalry once flourished, shall have peopled Tartary with all that was most noble and courageous amongst the sons of ancient Europe? When they have thus crowned their icy policy, let them enjoy their success. Siberia will have become the kingdom and Poland the desert.

Ought not Ave to blush with shame to pronounce the name of liberalism, when we think that there exists in Europe a people who were independent, and who now know no other liberty but that of apostasy ? The Russians, when they turn against the west the arms which they employ successfully against Asia, forget that the same mode of action which aids their progress against the Calmues, becomes an outrage of humanity when directed against a people that have been long civilised.

The scenes on the Volga continue; and these horrors are attributed to instigations of Polish emissaries ; an