Chapter XXX (4)

Of course, this is tantamount to a rejection of Lord John Russell’s proposal, that persons having £50 for a certain period of time deposited in a savings’ bank, shall be entitled to the franchise. This is a proposal which really will not bear examination. In the first place, it would lead to a prodigious deal of fictitious registration and wholesale manufacture of votes; in the second place, it is a most invidious and senseless preference given to one species of property beyond another. Why a savings’ bank? Are chartered, joint-stock, or private banks not as good? And why give a vote for £50 in the shape of a deposit only? Money is only equivalent to money’s worth. The man who expends £50 in the furnishing of his house, or in purchasing a share in some small business, or in fifty other ways of investment, is as good or better than his neighbour, who lets his money lie in the savings’ bank. It is utterly absurd to select one only kind of deposit for the franchise, practically excluding hundreds of thousands, who have more money invested in a different way. Then, again, what means are to be devised for ascertaining the right of parties so registered to continue on the roll? The tenure is obviously of the most precarious kind. An election takes place to-day, and a depositor votes in virtue of his £50; to-morrow he withdraws it from the bank. How is that to be ascertained? We presume it is not contemplated that the savings’-bank books shall be open to the inspection of the public; and if not, where are the means of ascertaining the continued qualification of parties? In like manner, we object to the qualification of £10 of yearly dividend from the Funds, or from bank stock. It is reasonable enough, perhaps, on account of their educational attainments, that graduates of universities should be admitted to vote either in town or county, _provided that they are assessed to the property and income tax, but not otherwise_; and the receipt of £100 a-year of salary, as it implies direct rating, may be taken as a sufficient qualification for borough or town voting.

But we are not at all prepared to agree to the proposed assimilation of the town and county franchise. It is a direct and dangerous innovation on the principle of the British constitution, which is, that the county representation shall be kept apart from that of the towns and boroughs. The Act of 1832 admitted the proprietor of a £10 house, not situated within the boundaries of a borough, to a county vote; and the result of that, in some localities, has been, that the voters in villages and small towns which were not boroughs, have been numerous enough to swamp and overpower the proper county constituency. That was bad enough; but it is now proposed that _occupiers_ shall have the franchise; and, as we remarked last month, it is not by any means necessary that the house which the voter occupies should be of the yearly value of £10. We must again quote the words of Lord John Russell: “We propose, with respect to the county right of voting, that—with the exception of a dwelling-house, _which may be of any value, provided the voter lives in it_—in all other cases the building must be of the value of £5 a-year. Supposing there is a house and land, the house may be rated at £1 or £2 a-year, provided the voter resides in it; but if the qualification is made out by any other building—a cattle-shed, or any other building of that kind—then we propose this check, that such building shall be of the value of £5 a-year. This, then, is the franchise we propose to give in counties for the future.” Thus the English counties are to be inundated, 1st, By £10 occupiers, not resident within borough boundaries; and, 2dly, By the voters of sixty-six disfranchised boroughs, who are to be thrown loose upon them! We are confident that, in any case, such a proposal as this will be rejected. The counties do not want additional members at the expense of the boroughs; and we think it is, on principle, most important that the two kinds of representation should be preserved distinct. Indeed, but for the crotchet of giving representation to minorities, by assigning to as many constituencies as possible three members each, we should probably have heard nothing of this transfer of borough representation. That the county franchise may be advantageously lowered as regards tenants, we are ready to admit. Let them be enrolled from £20 upwards, provided they pay property and income tax, which, according to our view, ought to be made an indispensable condition to the franchise.

But we shall be asked, what is to become of £10 occupants residing beyond borough boundaries, who are really rated to the income-tax? Are they to remain unrepresented? Our reply is, that they ought to be represented, and can be represented, without sending them to the county-roll. The true, sound, and equitable method is to enlarge the parliamentary boundaries of boroughs, so that persons of this class may be enrolled in the nearest borough to their residence. Such enlargement may be made irrespective of other persons who are entitled to the county franchise, and who would still claim to be placed upon that roll. In this way, no one really entitled to vote would be excluded: both counties and boroughs would be preserved; and the latter would receive a very considerable augmentation of numbers from a class of men who at present do not enjoy the franchise.

There is but one point more to which we shall specially refer, and that is the proposed representation of minorities. We have shown, in a former article, that this is perfectly unworkable, and moreover greatly to be deprecated, as entirely changing the relations of the electors and their representatives. It can only, according to Lord John Russell’s admission, be attempted in constituencies which are to be allowed three representatives; and the simple fact of its being the exception, and not the rule, seems to us sufficient to condemn it. We have already put the case of the death or resignation of one of these minority members, and we cannot see how his place can be supplied, unless it is enacted that the candidate lowest on the poll is to be returned. It is neither sensible nor equitable to challenge the authority of majorities. If you leave a question, whether it relate to men or measures, to be decided by a certain number of people, you must perforce adopt and acquiesce in the verdict of the majority. But it is within our power to render the majorities less oppressive, by multiplying as much as possible the number of the tribunals of appeal.

This brings us to the consideration of a topic which we broached in the last number of the Magazine, and which, we venture to say, is well worthy of the attention of our statesmen. It cannot be denied that in many places, especially large towns, there is an immense degree of apathy on the part of those who are entitled to the franchise. Men who are in the possession or occupation of property far more than sufficient to entitle them to vote, do not even take the pains to place themselves on the roll; and many of those who are on the roll will not give themselves the trouble to vote. It is remarkable also that these are generally men of wealth, station, and intelligence—belonging, in short, to the class most likely to use the franchise with discretion and independence. The reason of this apparent apathy is, that they know quite well that they will be outvoted. In urban constituencies of four thousand or upwards, returning two members each, every one knows beforehand how the election will go, and consequently no effort is made by a desponding minority. We grant that such ought not to be the case; because an elector, though he may not be able to find a candidate of his own way of thinking, can always exercise a wholesome control, by voting for the man who, in his judgment, is the best in the field—but there can be no doubt that the case is as we represent it. For example, at last election, there voted, in round numbers, at London, only 7,500 out of 20,000 electors—at Finsbury, 9,000 out of 20,000—at Lambeth, 8,000 out of 18,000—at Manchester, 9,000 out of 13,000—at Westminster, 800 out of 14,800—at Sheffield, 3,500 out of 5,300—at York, 2,500 out of 4,100—at Edinburgh, 3,500 out of 6,900—at Glasgow, 5,000 out of 16,500. These represent the actual numbers on the register, but not the number of those entitled to be enrolled, but who have not lodged claims. In short, the activity in voting and enrolling seems to decline in proportion to the size of the constituency.

There is but one way of remedying this, and that is by recurring to the simple principle _that no man shall be entitled, in one place, to vote for more than a single member_. We do not mean by this that large populations should be restricted to a single member—that would be unfair, and even preposterous. We mean that each county, division of a county, city, town, or borough, which has more than one member allotted to it, should be subdivided into parishes, districts, or wards, each to return a member, according to the votes of the majority of the qualified electors within it. Thus London would be divided into four electoral districts; Liverpool, Manchester, Edinburgh, and others into two; and the counties would, in the same way, be partitioned into so many districts as there were members to be returned. This system is at present in partial operation in the counties of England, which are split into divisions, and there undoubtedly the system has worked well and satisfactorily. No man in his senses would propose that each county elector of Yorkshire should have six votes; and we really cannot see why one man, because he happens to live in a large town, should have double the personal political influence of another who resides in a small borough. It does not necessarily follow, by any means, that the members to be returned under the operation of the system which we propose should be antagonistic to one another. It would, we are convinced, materially tend to improve the representation, by infusing fresh energy into the constituencies; it is already recognised, and partially in effect; and it is not liable to any of the objections which it requires no ingenuity to rear against Lord John Russell’s absurd scheme for giving members to minorities.

We might say a great deal more on the subject of the present bill, but we think that further comment is needless. We have shown, by absolute demonstration, that it is not the result of Lord John Russell’s own Parliamentary experience—that, for twenty years of his public life, dating from 1832, he had failed to see the proper method of amending the representation of the people—and that he was at last enlightened by a series of articles, which display as little consistency as wisdom. We have shown also that he has not probed the great question of the relative proportional representation of the three united kingdoms—that he proposes to demolish borough representation, without any necessity for doing so—and that he wishes entirely to change, or rather to abrogate, the ancient distinction between town and county franchise. We have shown that he has not taken at all into consideration the recent fiscal changes, and that he proposes to place those who are heavily and directly taxed on the same footing with those who are allowed to escape that burden. We have shown that other parts of his scheme are either merely fantastical, or dictated by party motives; and having said so much, we are content to abide by the decision of the country.

If this bill is again brought forward on the 27th of April, or a later day in the session, we do not believe that it will ever pass into the statute-book. If it is withdrawn, on the score of inconvenience or otherwise, we are perfectly certain that it will not again appear in its present shape; for, many as are the legislative proposals which we have had occasion to consider, this is, beyond comparison, the worst digested, most incoherent and most rambling measure of them all.

THE BLUE BOOKS AND THE EASTERN QUESTION.

Notwithstanding the imposing aspect of these azure tomes, technically termed _Blue Books_, we confess we do not look upon them without a feeling of suspicion or incredulity. No doubt the usages of Parliament and the will of the Crown require the production of documents relating to every important transaction connected with our foreign policy, and they are intended to furnish ample and accurate details of our international acts, and to unfold to the public the intricacies of complicated and tedious negotiations. Such is the object of those expensive publications; but, for the attainment of that object, they should be not merely authentic, but complete. And when we say that we do not regard the _Blue Books_ with all the respect that full confidence inspires, it is because we know that the papers they contain are well sifted and culled: those parts which would prove the weakness, the ignorance, and the imprudence of a Minister, are so carefully kept out of sight, and so curtailed, and those in his favour so prominently brought forward, that we have, after all, a very partial, and consequently a very imperfect, view of the manner in which a negotiation has been conducted. Truth, they say, lies at the bottom of a well: the Foreign Office may be that well, but the eye of the public is not always enabled to pierce its depth. Moreover, we have heard it related that some Ministers indulge a vicious habit of communicating instructions to their diplomatic agents in notes or letters marked _private_, or evidently meant to be so from their familiar style and tone; and that some letters contain hints or instructions sometimes contrary to the official despatches. This is unjust to the public, and unfair to the diplomatic agent himself, who, in case his conduct should become subject of inquiry or censure in Parliament, is thus debarred from defending himself, because the real instructions on which he acted bear the stamp of privacy, which delicacy forbids him to violate; and it is quite certain that the _Blue Books_ contain no trace of those confidential missives. There is one personage in particular whose name has been more connected than any other with our foreign policy, who is said to carry this habit to such a point as to force complaints from his own subordinates.

We are not exempt from human weakness: we confess that we have more than once cast a curious and a longing glance on those plethoric Jacks which daily issue from Downing Street, and the safe conveyance of which to their distant destination costs the country annually a handsome sum of money. We have often desired to dive to the very bottom of these round white leathern envelopes, which are so tenderly handled and so scrupulously guarded. What profound thoughts, what foresight, what eloquence, and what wisdom, must be contained, we have often thought, within that mysterious covering of calf, of more than aldermanic rotundity, tightly closed at the neck with whipcord, and the genius of England protecting the orifice in the form and fashion of a huge red seal. It is true that idle or blabbing clerks, and supercilious or rollicking messengers—the external “gentlemen” of the Foreign Office—are said to indulge occasionally in a laugh, whilst lounging in their waiting-room, at the reverential awe with which the vulgar are wont to look upon the “despatch bags.” Strange stories, too, are said to be current of the miscellanies which sometimes fill them, the curious _olla podrida_, the several parts of which are so well adapted to the tastes of the youthful _employés_ of our foreign embassies. Packages of pomatum, bottles of hair-dye, pots of varnish, patent-leather boots, and dress-coats, are occasionally conveyed to the capital where we are blessed with a representative who unites in his own person the conflicting tastes of dandyism and parsimony. Gossipping tongues speak of even more important cargoes—not, of course, in the bag, but outside it—that were sometimes conveyed, at her Majesty’s expense, to her “Honourable” or “Right Honourable” representative, under the care of some bustling “gentleman,” whose official character is indicated by the Windsor uniform, and a minute badge with the royal arms, and the effigy (a harmless irony) of a greyhound—the latter symbolical of the speed at which he is presumed to travel.

Taking the present _Blue Books_ at the value set upon them by the Government, we believe that every impartial man who has glanced over their contents, and who has read the debates in Parliament, will be convinced of the blindness, the weakness—we will not say the criminality—of the Cabinet, in all that relates to the Eastern question. It is in vain that we attempt to defend their conduct on the ground of _ignorance_, for there are abundant proofs in the documents before us, however imperfect they may be, that they were not ignorant, and were not unwarned of what was going on. The evidence is too clear even for audacity to deny, or hypocrisy to diminish. They themselves have been forced to admit that they were outwitted and duped as no men were ever duped before; and however a generous and forgiving people may pardon the fault for the frankness of the confession, such imbecility in the past is but poor encouragement for the future. The noble lord who holds the post of Prime Minister is indeed unfortunate in his general estimate of men and things. When the Revolution of February was on the point of bursting forth, he is said to have declared his conviction that King Louis Philippe and his dynasty were firmer than ever on the throne of France. After a long, and, we presume, conscientious study of the President of the new French republic, the same acute intellect pronounced Louis Napoleon to be little better than an idiot, and in contemptuous terms described him as incapable in thought and action. When the votes of millions approved and confirmed the daring illegality of the act of December 1851, he believed that his rule could not last three months: and in the latest exercise of his discrimination and knowledge of the world, our great statesman laughed to scorn the fear that the Emperor Nicholas ever contemplated any attack against the integrity of the Ottoman Empire, and this at the moment when every post was bringing home news of the hostile attitude of Russia; when the newspapers teemed with accounts of the movements of armies in the south of Russia; when that force was placed on a war footing, and provisioned as if on the eve of a campaign; when a fleet was at Sebastopol ready to weigh anchor; when wood was cut down for the construction of pontoons and bridges for the Pruth and Danube; and when Constantinople itself was menaced with a _coup de main_;[8] when the magazines of Odessa were gorged with military stores for the complete equipment of 150,000 men; when troops had already marched to the Turkish frontier; when Prince Menschikoff was outraging the Sultan in his own capital, and dictating who should, or who should not, be his minister. And with the reports of our own diplomatic and consular agents confirming all those facts, the noble Lord at the head of her Majesty’s Government was smiling complacently at the compliments lavished on him by that great master of irony, Count Nesselrode, who chuckled with his imperial master at the simplicity of the statesman refusing to believe the evidence of his senses. We have seldom witnessed so much prevarication, so much barefaced misstatement, as have been exhibited on this question. It was denied in the most positive manner in the House of Lords that Russia had ever required from the Sultan the dismissal of his minister Fuad Effendi; or that the resignation of that minister was voluntary. The repeated warnings in the public press, the official communications of his own agents in Turkey and Russia, went for nothing. The intentions of the Emperor of Russia were in his eyes moderate and pacific, even so late as the end of April. The arrogant language of the Russian Envoy at Constantinople, the menaced occupation of the Principalities, were, because Count Nesselrode pronounced them to be so, not merely exaggerated, but “destitute of any foundation whatever.” The “_beau rôle_” which the wily chancellor of the Russian Empire congratulated Lord Aberdeen for having preferred, was in point of fact the meanest subservience; and we are satisfied that it was to the conviction that this “_beau rôle_”[9] was to be played out to the end, that we owe all that has since taken place. The same truckling spirit characterised even those acts of the Government which had the appearance of energy. When our ships entered the Dardanelles, and anchored before Constantinople, the country was made to believe that their presence in the Bosphorus had no reference to the acts of Russia, but to the protection of British subjects and property, and to the defence of the Sultan from the violence of his own subjects at a moment when it was known that not the slightest danger menaced either the one or the other. Abdul Medjid must have felt indignant at the imputation thus cast by his friends on the loyalty of his subjects, and even Lord Aberdeen’s own ambassador declined to accept such an explanation of movement of the fleet without a pretext. Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, while expressing his thanks for the interest taken by the British Government in the preservation of British life and property at Constantinople, said, at the same time, that he applied his gratitude also to that part of the instructions which authorised him to consider the presence of her Majesty’s squadron, if he thought proper to require it, as intended to embrace the protection of the Sultan in case of need: from whom the Sultan most needed protection, no man knew better than the English ambassador. The defence set up for the delays, the hesitations, and the inaction of the Aberdeen Cabinet, was, it seems, the doubt entertained of the co-operation of France. Now, nothing is more clearly shown, even in the _Blue Books_, that the contrary was the fact. It is proved by the despatches of the French Ambassador in London, and of the English Ambassador in Paris. They show, beyond the possibility of doubt, not only that such was not the case, but that every proposition of active measures, from the very beginning when the squadrons appeared in the Bay of Salamis to their entering the Black Sea, originated exclusively with the French Government. The despatch of Lord Cowley of the 28th January confirmed the intelligence published in the London papers, that it was the French Government who had invited the English to join the French fleet in the expedition to the Greek waters, and the fact is corroborated in the despatch of the French Minister of Foreign Affairs to his ambassador in London, dated the 5th June. Again, on the 13th July the French Ambassador proposed to Lord Clarendon that, in the event of Russia not accepting the Vienna note, or showing a disposition to persist in a violent policy, the French and English fleets should forthwith enter the Dardanelles. That proposition was repeated in the beginning of September by the French Government; and once more, on the 23d of the same month, Count Walewski urged the presence of the fleets in the Black Sea as _indispensable_. On this important point there was not the slightest divergence of opinion between the head of the French Government and his Minister of Foreign Affairs; their views were the same, their opinions identical; and the _Blue Books_ prove no fact to be more indisputable, more certain, than that their conduct throughout the whole of the affair was frank and straightforward. It is not alone in the French despatches that we find this proof. We see it in the correspondence of Lord Aberdeen and Lord Cowley. The latter noble lord, who had the best opportunity of ascertaining the truth, and who is not a person to be easily deceived, repeatedly informs his Government that he invariably received from the Emperor, or from his minister, the same assurances of a desire to act in concert and in cordial alliance with England, and that he never could discover, though he was evidently on the watch, the slightest difference between them. It is all very well to say that the time which has been spent in, as it now appears, useless negotiation, has not been lost, and that the Government has been enabled to prepare the means of resisting the encroachments of Russia, and of wresting from her the territory she has seized. It is a poor defence to allege that fortune has, after all, favoured us, and that we are not in so bad a condition as we might have been. A blunder is not the less a blunder because its results are not so mischievous as they might be. But if we are prepared at this moment, as there can be little doubt, the credit is not due to Ministers, who have exhibited throughout a credulity and a simplicity we believe to be unexampled. We have no reason to believe that if, in the very commencement, a firm and imposing attitude had been assumed by our Government, the Emperor of Russia would not have recoiled before he had yet placed himself in a position, to retire from which, without striking a blow, is shame and dishonour. Had it been announced that the squadrons would enter the Black Sea the moment the Russians crossed the Pruth, we believe that that passage would not have taken place, and in that menace we are confident that France would have joined us.

On perusing the despatches published by the French Government in its official organ, we have been particularly struck by the clearness of views and the intrepidity, mingled with good sense, which pervade them. From the moment that the question assumed a more general character; when it ceased to refer exclusively to French interests, we remark the masterly view which the Emperor’s minister of foreign affairs took of the whole question as it then stood; of the accuracy with which he judged of the future conduct of the Czar, and the marked line of conduct which he proposed to follow. Yet the difficulties in the way of the French Government were great. With the cunning which distinguishes the policy of Russia, this power had the tact to present the Eastern question, from the outset, in a light most disadvantageous to France; and the excessive zeal and indiscretion of M. de Lavalette indisposed the other powers, and afforded a pretext to our own Government to stand aloof. In this country the policy and person of the French Emperor had been unpopular. With the prejudice, mistrust, and ill-feeling which his name inspired, it is not to be wondered at that all his acts were viewed with suspicion; and the question of the holy places was at once, and as this result has shown, unfairly interpreted as the forerunner of new and more important pretensions,—as the continuation, in fact, of the plans of his uncle, whose hostility to England he was supposed to have inherited with his crown. It was at the moment of the invasion panic—which was so far useful that it roused us to strengthen our defences, and organise a naval and military force which we then little thought would be employed against Russia—that the French minister at Constantinople succeeded in obtaining immunities in favour of the Latin church, of which France assumed to be the protector. We will not now examine whether these privileges were of the exorbitant and unjust character ascribed to them. It is sufficient that they were so considered by Russia, and that the advantages extorted from the Porte for the monks of the holy cities were understood as placing the Greek communion in a condition of relative inferiority, and as realising a triumph over Russia in those places where she had long reigned supreme, and where she would brook no rival, much less a superior. From such a quarrel between rival churches, with the dogmas of which we had nothing in common, England properly kept apart, and France was left to find her own way, unaided, out of the unpleasant position in which her agents had placed her. No moment could be more propitious to Russia, ever watchful as she has always been of dissension between the Western powers, and ever ready to take advantage of it. The French Government soon saw and met the danger. Its ambassador was recalled and disavowed. Explanations were promptly and frankly given, and readily received; and M. de Nesselrode himself, however disappointed or checked, was forced to admit that these explanations were perfectly satisfactory, and that the redress obtained in favour of the Latins was not of a nature to trench upon the immunities of the Greeks. That admission completely closed the question of the Holy Places, in which France was exclusively interested. But scarcely had it terminated when the mission of Prince Menschikoff assumed all at once a strange and startling aspect. It was soon seen that the holy places were but the mask which covered pretensions of far greater moment. The French Government, struck by the haughty and menacing tone of the Russian envoy, quickly understood the true cause of the vast military preparations of Russia, and became aware that they were the prelude to a state of things which would endanger the independence of the Sultan and the security of his states. It considered that France was bound by the Treaties of 1841, to which she was a party, as well as by her position in Europe, not to regard with indifference the proceedings of Russia; and, as a precautionary measure, it ordered the Mediterranean fleet to proceed on the 20th March to the Greek waters, and to remain there until further events rendered a nearer approach to the Sultan’s capital necessary. When that order was issued, France alone declared its belief in the grave and threatening character of the pretensions of the Czar. Austria affected to give credit to the repeated assurances of Russian moderation, and continued to keep aloof; and Lord Aberdeen, whose attention had been drawn by the public press, and, no doubt, by his own agents, to the coming storm, could perceive no cloud, no angry speck in the political horizon. The French Government, as is proved by the despatches in the _Moniteur_, persisted in its conviction that the most serious dangers were at hand; and that Russia believed that the long-expected moment had arrived for realising her traditional policy in the East—the annihilation of the Ottoman Empire, or its absorption, by the process of previous degradation. France considered that, under such circumstances, complete obstruction was impossible, and that, so far as England was concerned, the necessity of maintaining her maritime superiority ought to be a sufficient motive for her participation in a more active policy. The instructions to M. de Lacour, dated the 22d March, presupposed the adherence of the British Government to that policy; the co-operation of the English squadron was anticipated for months previously; and, in his despatch of the 3d June, M. Drouyn de Lhuys presumed that the policy of the French Cabinet would soon become that of the Powers who were equally if not more interested than France in the maintenance of the Treaties of 1841. This energetic conduct, and the conviction which began to creep over the slow mind of Lord Aberdeen, produced some effect. On the 3d June the English squadron received orders similar to those of the French, and at length it sailed for Besica Bay. In the course of the same month, Austria and Prussia, roused to a sense of the impending danger, mustered courage enough to show symptoms of resistance to the pretensions of Russia, and in the month of July these two Powers united with England and France in the Vienna note, with the avowed object of maintaining peace. We are bound to admit that throughout this operation the French Government acted in a manner that redounds to its honour, and that subsequent events have fully justified its original apprehensions and precautions. The Vienna note was very properly regarded by the Divan as leaving a door open to the encroachments of Russia. The instinct of impending danger rendered the Porte more acute than usual, and its fears, which had been termed puerile, were completely justified by the commentary of M. de Nesselrode, who accepted the note for the same reasons that made the Sultan reject it. The plenipotentiaries were confounded (or at least affected to be so) on learning that the elaborate state paper, which had been so carefully worded, and which had stood the scrutinising glance and the keen criticism of the collective statesmanship of the Four Cabinets, was, in point of fact, nothing less than the Menschikoff _ultimatum_, which had been indignantly rejected by the same conference that adopted the Vienna note. Matters now became more complicated and alarming. The war which began to rage on the banks of the Danube, with every prospect of a long duration, produced its fatal effects on the commerce of western Europe; and as the hope of preserving peace became weaker each day, the union of the four great Powers was found to be more necessary. The consequence of this resolution was a new conference, which opened on the 5th December 1853. The note of the 13th January was the result. It was, no doubt, intended as the bond by which the Powers pledged themselves to act together for the peace of Europe; for, notwithstanding the suspicious conduct of Austria, it was clear that she, even more than any other, was interested in resisting any attempt to violate international law. The French Government acted throughout this affair with much prudence, foresight, and loyalty. We have it on record that Louis Napoleon and his Government saw from the commencement the aim of Russia, and fully appreciated the grave and alarming character of the events which were preparing in the East. The Emperor of the French had, as we have said, been exposed to a great deal of obloquy in this country. He had encountered the sullenness or hostility of our Government; he had to contend with the intrigues of political parties in France, the most selfish and unprincipled of all, the _Fusionists_; and he exhibited throughout the sagacity which foresaw, and the judgment which estimated, the full importance of the situation—as well as the courage to face it. He who had been suspected of a design to trample all obligations under foot, to disregard faith and honour, stood forth boldly, first, and alone, to defend the inviolability of treaties; and he summoned the nations of Europe to co-operate with him. Insulted by suspicions of his good faith, and baffled in his attempts to conciliate his enemies, he yet did not abandon the task he had undertaken. He at length succeeded in bringing over England. Austria and Prussia, ever timorous, hesitating, and slow, inclined to the manly policy of which France had set the example, and the question of the Holy Places, which had been confined to Russia and France, soon lost its original character, and assumed another, which now interests and agitates the whole of the European continent. We live in strange times! One of the strangest events to which the Eastern question has given rise is, that Napoleon III.—the “idiot,” as a noble lord in the present Cabinet was wont to call him—the penniless adventurer, the man regardless of all ties, of all faith, should be the person to remind the Conservative Governments of Europe of the treaties they themselves had framed, and to summon them to execute them faithfully. Louis Napoleon is no longer an outcast; nor is France isolated. His alliance, on the contrary, is courted; and among his former foes are some who find no terms too extravagant to celebrate his disinterestedness and his loyalty. The French despatches do honour to the sovereign who inspired, and the minister who drew them up; and they are in every respect worthy of the great nation whose title to our friendship is, that she has been the most formidable and honourable of our enemies.

Foresight, moderation, and firmness are, as we have observed, the characteristics of French policy in the Eastern question. In these despatches we see the French minister anticipate the moment when negotiation would become fruitless, and when all honourable mode of arrangement would be rejected by Russia. In its earlier stages we find the French ambassador in London, earnestly and repeatedly urged to come to an understanding with the English Cabinet on the conduct which, in such an emergency, it would be necessary to adopt. It is to the repeated instances of M. Drouyn de Lhuys we owe it, that identical instructions were given to M. de Lacour and Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, which directed that the fleets should enter the Dardanelles if the Russians did not evacuate the Principalities which they had invaded. Yet the fatal hesitation of Lord Aberdeen may be traced even in the resolves of the French minister. In the decided measure adopted by M. Drouyn de Lhuys, there appeared an unwillingness to break off rudely with Russia. In his despatch of the 1st September, that minister informs Count Walewski, that the presence of the fleets at the entrance of the Dardanelles—_outside the castles_—if demanded by the Porte—was rather a measure of precaution against the weather, than an encouragement to the Porte in its refusal to the reasonable demands of Russia. It may be that such a declaration was with a view to allay any alarm which might be felt by the German states at the onward movement of the fleet. We find additional evidence of the unwillingness to occasion fresh embarrassment in the cause assigned for the first appearance of a detachment of the squadron before Constantinople. That pretext was the apprehension of insurrection against the Sultan by the _Ulemas_, and the massacre of the Christian population. We have no doubt that there was considerable dissatisfaction manifested by the Turks at the delays of their _soi-disant_ allies; and that there existed much irritation at the conduct of the western Courts, who had advised the Porte to resist the demands of Russia; excited it to use all the means at its disposal to maintain that resistance; and who, when Turkey was left exposed to the wrath of her formidable enemy, still lingered at the mouth of the Dardanelles. But we look in vain for satisfactory proofs of the plots of insurrection and massacre attributed to the Mussulman population, and assigned as the cause of the presence of the fleets at Constantinople. We regard the whole thing as one of those paltry subterfuges, of which we find so many instances throughout this proceeding. Nothing was, however, gained by it; and neither the Emperor of Russia nor the public was deceived. The Christian population of Stamboul showed no sign of apprehension, and we have reason to believe that they disclaimed, so far as they were concerned, any such motive. The Turks were offended at being accused of a crime which they had not contemplated, and outraged by being falsely accused by Christians of treason to their own sovereign. With the arrival of the fleets before Constantinople vanished the danger of the Christians, of which, however, they were perfectly unconscious; as also of the Sultan, who, though informed that the vengeance of his subjects had placed his crown and life in danger, yet, in all the consciousness of security, had not ceased for a single day to appear in public, in the streets and public places where the population is in greatest number;—that population which our Ministers pretended to believe was watching the first favourable occasion to depose or assassinate him. He never failed to pray at the stated hours in the _mosque_, where the plotting _Ulemas_ and the fanatical _Softas_ explained or studied the Koran. Not only no insult was offered to him in word, act, or perhaps thought; but his Highness was on all occasions received with the same respect, reverence, and affection which Abdul-Medjid, ever since his accession to the throne, has proved himself deserving of.

The fleets having gone up for a special service, which they were not called upon to perform, the next question was, what was to be done with them, and where they should go next? An extract from the despatch of M. Drouyn de Lhuys to Count Walewski, of 4th September, shows the anxiety of the French Government to get as quickly as possible out of the awkward position in which their assent to that contemptible policy placed them. The French minister took up the matter with courage, and like a man of business:—“The question now is to determine as to the employment of our naval forces. The Emperor is of opinion that our fleet is destined to play an important part in the defence of the Ottoman empire. It might serve to cover Constantinople, and to operate, if necessary, on the western coast of the Black Sea, as far up as Varna,” &c. This plan was not, however, executed. Some difficulty arose on the part of Austria and Prussia, and these powers did not think, notwithstanding the intended massacre of the Christians and the deposition of the Sultan, that the appearance of the combined forces in the Bosphorus, much less their entry into the Black Sea, was sufficiently called for. Whether right or wrong, their influence arrested the further proceedings, which, if we are to credit M. Drouyn de Lhuys, had been already contemplated by the Emperor of the French. The fleets of France and England remained, therefore, in a state of inactivity near the Golden Horn, and negotiations again commenced. New collective notes were drawn up, and the idea of another quadruple intervention, with, of course, a view to a pacific solution, was again revived. The prospect grew brighter. The inexorable Czar appeared to take pity on our Cabinet; to smile graciously on the minister of the “_beau rôle_,” the gentle and confiding friend of Nesselrode. The Emperor of Russia, whose preparations were not as yet complete, showed a disposition to treat; and, false throughout, gave assurances that he would not assume the offensive on any point. “Our latest intelligence,” says M. Drouyn de Lhuys, so recently as the 15th December—“our latest intelligence from St Petersburg is to the effect that Russia is resolved to treat, and, above all, to adopt no offensive measures, and our confidence in this may suffice to explain the inactivity of the fleets.” But the pacific declarations of Russia, which we fear M. Castelbajac too readily believed, were but the cloak under which the attack on the Turkish squadron of Sinope, and the massacre which followed, were concealed. With such a deed perpetrated at so short a distance from the spot where the flags of England and France were floating together, the fleets could not linger any more in the Bosphorus. They entered the Black Sea, and what was termed _a policy of action_ commenced. Prussia and Austria were startled from their propriety, but they still followed on in the pursuit of that peace which, when nearest, always eluded their grasp,—and

“Like the circle bounding earth and skies,
Allures from far, yet, as they follow, flies.”

The attitude of France and England became more decided, and at length, after much hesitation, the Russian ambassadors were recalled from Paris and London.

In the course of the long operation which preceded the rupture of diplomatic relations, the judgment of M. Drouyn de Lhuys appeared nowhere to greater advantage than in the accuracy with which he divined and unmasked the real designs of the Czar in the matter of the Holy Shrines, while our noble Premier looked on credulous and confiding. The anger of the Czar, so much out of proportion to the offence, had, to be sure, something suspicious in it, and to the uninitiated or unsuspecting was utterly inexplicable. M. Drouyn de Lhuys knew well the cause of that immense wrath. It was not on account of the miserable squabbles of Latin and Greek monks that vast bodies of troops traversed the plains of southern Russia, that stores sufficient for an immense army and for a long campaign were accumulated in the magazines of Odessa, and that vast preparations were made at Sebastopol.

The absorbing interest which attached to events in western Europe since the revolution of 1848—the revolution which had convulsed nearly every Continental state—had occupied the public mind to the exclusion of everything else; and Russia availed herself of the storm which raged everywhere, except in her own territory, to realise her aggressive projects. Her political and religious influence had long been paramount at Constantinople. The arrival of M. de Lavalette first threatened to disturb that monopoly. Indeed, any allusion, however slight, to the capitulation of 1741, instantly alarmed Russia; and Prince Menschikoff, finding that the secret of the Czar was discovered, hastened to present his ultimatum, with all the aggravating and insulting circumstances already known. The French Government explained at length to the Cabinet of St Petersburg the motives and the extent of the French demands with reference to the Holy Places; but the Head of the Orthodox Church refused to listen—he would bear no rival in the East. “There is established,” said M. Drouyn de Lhuys in his despatch of the 21st March to General Castelbajac, “an important political usage in Europe. It consists in this, that the Powers interest themselves in common in certain general interests, and overcome, by means of their diplomacy, difficulties which at another period could only be terminated by force of arms. Be so good, then, General, as to demand of M. de Nesselrode if the Cabinet of St Petersburg, repudiating the principle which has prevailed for thirty years in the relations of the great Powers with each other, means to constitute itself the sole arbiter of the destinies of Turkey, and if for that common policy, to which the world is indebted for its repose, Russia means to substitute a policy of isolation and domination which would necessarily constrain the other Cabinets in the approaching crisis to consult only their own interests, and to act only with a view to their private views.” Russia did not choose to comprehend the full significance of that intimation; and though she herself had often been among the first to solicit a European combination when there appeared a chance of her deriving advantage from it, she yet haughtily rejected the proposal when it crossed, or did not promote, her ambition. Her great object was to treat with Turkey _without the intervention of a third party_; and it was the arrogant manner in which she met the advances of the Western Powers, or rather forbade them to meddle in what she regarded as a domestic quarrel between a vassal and his master, that attracted general attention to the question, and gave it a European character. We find no point more strongly insisted on by M. Drouyn de Lhuys, in his despatches to General Castelbajac, than not permitting Russia to assume this exclusive right of dictating her will on the Oriental question. It is superfluous to say that France had no intention of excluding her from a fair share; but beyond that she would not go. Fearing the probability of a cordial union between England and France—an event which, so long as Lord Aberdeen directed the affairs of state, he would not believe possible—the whole force of the Emperor’s policy was directed to prevent it, or break it off if it had been already formed. Heretofore the Czar had fully approved the conduct of his noble friend, and we find more than once, in the papers laid before Parliament, the warm expression of imperial gratitude. Happy minister! It falls to the lot of few to be enabled to boast of such certificates of conduct as those from Louis Philippe in 1846, and from Nicholas in 1853. It is true that the excellent qualities so much admired rendered it easy for a hypocrite to overreach, and an overbearing despot to insult, England. The English and French alliance must be broken off at any cost. The insults to the French Emperor, and the French people, were still ringing in the ears of the public. The impertinencies of two members of the Aberdeen Cabinet—the wriggling of miserable sycophancy which met with the contempt it merited—when alluding to the ruler of France, were fresh in the memory of all. The invasion fever had not been entirely allayed; the old suspicions of the insincerity of the French Government, and the jealousies and hatreds which had been dormant, might again be roused. France must be isolated, and the partisans of the Orleans family, the “Fusionists,” or by whatever nickname they are known, already exulted in the shame which they invoked at the hand of a foreign despot on their own country. The Chancellor of the Russian Empire brought all his ability to the task. He accused France of ambition, and reproached her with being the cause of the quarrel by her conduct in the question of the Holy Places. The point was a sore one, as, however disingenuously it was revived by Russia, it was nevertheless a fact that the quarrel followed hard on the demands of M. de Lavalette. M. de Nesselrode, with true Muscovite candour, omitted to add that he himself had expressed his satisfaction and approbation of the fair and honourable manner in which the French Government had brought that question to an issue. That account had been finally closed. A considerable portion of the despatches of M. Drouyn de Lhuys is taken up with a refutation of those charges, and it is admitted on all hands that his refutation of them is satisfactory and complete. With the history of Russian aggression for the last century before us, the charge of ambition against another power was strange in the mouth of a Russian minister. But the capitulation of 1741, which confirmed the previous immunities of the Latin communion in the East, were not, after all, of a nature to offend or alarm any one. The sort of protectorate which they established, was not menacing to any power in Europe, inasmuch as they applied to establishments which were under the protection of all alike; whilst the Greek protectorate was of the most exclusive character, and, as has been shown in a previous article, was not religious, but political, and aimed at placing the whole Ottoman Empire at the feet of Russia.