scattered forces of the apanages to make head | Instantly they emerged from the forest which against the common enemy. The two armies, had concealed them from the enemy, and fell each 150,000 strong, met at Koulikoff, on the with the utmost fury on the Moguls. The 7th September, 1378, on which day, four hun- effect of this unforeseen attack was decisive. dred and thirty-four years afterwards, Napoleon Astonished at the vehement onset, by troops and Kutasoff commenced the dreadful strug-fresh and in the best order, the Tartars fled, gle at Borodino.

"On the 6th September, the army approached the Don, and the princes and boyards deliberated whether they should retire across the river, so as to place it between them and the enemy, or await them where they stood, in order to cut off all retreat from the cowardly, and compel them to conquer or die. Dmitri then ascended a mound, from which he could survey his vast army. The hour of God,' said he, 'has sounded. In truth no one could contemplate that prodigious multitude of men and horses; those innumerable battalions ranged in the finest order; the thousands of banners, and tens of thousands of arms glittering in the sun, and hear the cry repeated by a hundred and fifty thousand voices,-'Great God, give us the victory over our enemies,' without having some confidence in the result. Such was the emotion of the prince, that his eyes filled with tears; and dismounting, he knelt down, and stretching out his arm to the black standard, on which was represented our Saviour's figure, he prayed fervently for the salvation of Russia. Then mounting his horse, he said to those around,-'My well-beloved brothers and companions in arms, it is by your exploits this day, that you will live in the memory of man, or obtain the crown of immortality.'

and their chief, Mamia, who, from an elevated spot beheld the rout of his host, exclaimed, The God of the Christian is powerful!' and joined in the general flight. The Russians pursued the Moguls to the Metcha, in endeavouring to cross which vast numbers were slain or drowned, and the camp, with an immense booty, fell into the hands of the victors."-Vol. v. pp. 79-82.

This great victory, however, did not decide the contest, and nearly a hundred years elapsed before the independence of Russia from the Tartars was finally established. Not long after this triumph, as after Boradino, Moscow was taken and burnt by the Moguls; the account of which must, for the present, close our extracts.

"No sooner were the walls of Moscow escaladed by the Tartars, than the whole inhabitants, men, women, and children, became the prey of the cruel conquerors. Knowing that great numbers had taken refuge in the. stone churches, which would not burn, they cut down the gates with hatchets, and found immense treasures, brought into these asylums from the adjoining country. Satiated with carnage and spoil, the Tartars next set fire to the town, and drove a weeping crowd of captives, whom they had selected for slaves, from the massacre into the fields around. What terms,' say the contemporary annalists, can paint the deplorable state in which Moscow was then left? That populous capital, resplendent with riches and glory, was destroyed in a single day! Nothing remained but a mass of ruins and ashes; the earth covered with burning remains and drenched with blood, corpses half burnt, and churches wrapt in flames. The awful silence was interrupted only by the groans of the unhappy wretches, who, crushed beneath the falling houses, called aloud for some one to put a period to their sufferings."-Vol. v. p. 101.

Such was Russia at its lowest point of depression in 1378. The steps by which it regained its independence and became again great and powerful, will furnish abundant subject for another article on Karamsin's Modern History.

"Soon the Tartar squadrons were seen slowly advancing, and ere long they covered the whole country to the eastward, as far as the eye could reach. Great as was the host of the Russians, they were outnumbered considerably by the Moguls. His generals besought Dmitri to retire, alleging the duty of a commander-in-chief to direct the movements, not hazard his person like a private soldier; but he replied, 'No, you will suffer wherever you are: if I live, follow me, if I die avenge me.' Shortly after the battle commenced, and was the most desperate ever fought between the Russians and the Tartars. Over an extent of ten wersts, (seven miles,) the earth was stained with the blood of the Christians and Infidels. In some quarters the Russians broke the Moguls; in others they yielded to their redoubtable antagonists. In the centre some young battalions gave way, and spread We know not what impression these ex the cry that all was lost: the enemy rushed in tracts may have made on our readers, but or at the opening this afforded, and forced their ourselves they have produced one of the most way nearly to the standard of the Grand profound description. Nothing can be so Prince, which was only preserved by the de-interesting as to trace the infancy and provoted heroism of his guard. Meanwhile gressive growth of a great nation as of a Prince Vladimir Andreiwitch, who was placed great individual. In both we can discover the with a chosen body of troops in ambuscade, slow and gradual training of the mind to its was furious at being the passive spectator of ultimate destiny, and the salutary influence of so desperate a conflict in which he was not adversity upon both in strengthening the permitted to bear a part. At length, at eight character, and calling forth the energies. It at night, the Prince of Volhynia, who observed is by the slowest possible degrees that nations with an experienced eye the movements of the are trained to the heroic character, the patri two armies, exclaimed, 'My friends, our time otic spirit, the sustained effort, which is ne nas come!' and let the whole loose upon the cessary to durable elevation. Extraordinary enemy, now somewhat disordered by success. [ but fleeting enthusiasm, the genius of a sin

ablest leaders, acting and receding upon each other through a long course of ages. It was almost wholly unknown to the ancient Greeks; it was first struck out, at a period when the recollections of past freedom contrasted with the realities of present servitude, by the mighty genius of Tacitus, and the sagacity of Machiavelli, the depth of Bacon, the philoso

gle man, the conquests of a single nation, may often elevate a power like that of Alexander, in ancient, or Napoleon in modern times, to the very highest pitch of worldly greatness. But no reliance can be placed on the stability of such empires; they invariably sink as fast as they had risen, and leave behind them nothing but a brilliant, and, generally, awful impression on the minds of succeeding ages.phy of Hume, the glance of Robertson, and If we would seek for the only sure foundations of lasting greatness, we shall find them in the persevering energy of national character; in the industry with which wealth has been accumulated, and the fortitude with which suffering has been endured through a long course of ages; and, above all, in the steady and continued influence of strong religious impressions, which, by influencing men in every important crisis by a sense of duty, has rendered them superior to all the storms of for tune. And the influence of these principles is nowhere more clearly to be traced than in the steady progress and present exalted position of the Russian empire.

the wisdom of Guizot, have been necessary to bring the science even to the degree of maturity which it has as yet attained. But in brilliancy of description, animation of style, and fervour of eloquence, Karamsin is not exceeded by any historian in modern times. The pictures he has given of the successive changes in Russian manners, institutions, and government, though hardly so frequent as could have been wished, prove that he has in him the spirit of philosophy; while in the animation of his descriptions of every important event, is to be seen the clearest indication that he is gifted with the eye of poetic genius. Russia may well be proud of such a work, Of Karamsin's merits as an author, a con- and it is disgraceful to the literature of this ception may be formed from the extracts we country that no English translation of it has have already given. We must not expect in yet appeared. We must, in conclusion, add, the historian of a despotic empire, even when that the elevated sentiments with which it recording the most distant events, the just dis-abounds, as well as the spirit of manly piety crimination, the enlightened views, the fearless opinions, which arise, or can be hazarded only in a free country. The philosophy of history is the slow growth of the opinions of all different classes of men, each directed by their

and fervent patriotism in which it is conceived, diminish our surprise at the continued progress of an empire which was capable of producing such a writer.

EFFECTS OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION OF 1830.* EVER Since the late French Revolution broke | time, or foresight; that this new constitution out, and at a time when it carried with it the wishes, and deluded the judgment, of a large and respectable portion of the British public, we have never ceased to combat the then prevailing opinion on the subject. We asserted from the very outset that it was calculated to do incredible mischief to the cause of real freedom; that it would throw back for a very long period the march of tranquil liberty; that it restored at once the rule of the strongest; and, breaking down the superiority of intellect and knowledge by the mere force of numbers, would inevitably and rapidly lead, through a bitter period of suffering, to the despotism of the sword.

We founded our opinion upon the obvious facts, that the Revolution was effected by the populace of Paris, by the treachery of the army, and the force of the barricades, without any appeal to the judgment or wishes of the remainder of France; that a constitution was framed, a king chosen, and a government established at the Hotel de Ville, by a junto of enthusiastic heads, without either deliberation,

* Seize Mois, ou La Revolution et La Revolutionaires, par N. A. Salvandy, auteur de l'Histoire de la Pologne: Paris, 1831.-Blackwood's Magazine, June, 1832.

was announced to the provinces by the telegraph, before they were even aware that a civil war had broken out; that the Citizen King was thus not elected by France, but imposed upon its inhabitants by the mob of Paris; that this convulsion prostrated the few remaining bulwarks of order and liberty which the prior revolution had left standing, and nothing remained to oppose the march of revolution, and the devouring spirit of Jacobinism, but the force of military despotism. That in this way no chance existed of liberty being ultimately established in France, because that inestimable blessing depended on the fusion of all the interests of society in the fabric of government, and the prevention of the encroachments of each class by the influence of the others; and such mutual balancing was impossible in a country where the whole middling ranks were destroyed, and nothing remained but tumultuous masses of mankind on the one hand, and an indignant soldiery on the other. We maintained that the convulsion at Paris was a deplorable catastrophe for the cause of freedom in all other countries; that by preci pitating the democratic party everywhere int‹ revolutionary measures or revolutionary ev

cesses, it would inevitably rouse the conserva- revolt? Who has spread famine and desolative interests to defend themselves; that in the struggle, real liberty would be equally endangered by the fury of its insane friends and the hostility of its aroused enemies; and that the tranquil spread of freedom, which had been so conspicuous since the fall of Napoleon, would be exchanged for the rude conflicts of military power with popular ambition.

throne, but more especially since Casimir Perier | porters and the crown, who, although it long was intrusted with the reins of responsible go- refused them its arms, often lent them its vernment. It is a melancholy fact that, under shield. The revolutionary spirit has also a the revolutionized government of France, more powerful ally, which communicates to it force blood has been shed in conflicts between the from its inherent energy. This ally is the depeople and the military, than during the fifteen mocracy which now reigns as a despot over France; years of the Restoration, if we except the three that is, without moderation, without wisdom, days of resistance to the ordinances in Paris, without perceiving that it reigns only for the which ended in the dethronement of Charles behoof of the spirit of disorder-that terrible the Tenth. ally which causes it to increase its own power, and will terminate by destroying it. It is time to speak to the one and the other a firm language; to recall to both principles as old as the world, which have never yet been violated with impunity by nations, and which successively disappear from the midst of us, stifled under the instinct of gross desires, rash passions, pusillanimous concessions, and subversive laws. Matters are come to such a point, that no small courage is now required to unfold these sacred principles; and yet all the objects of the social union, the bare progress of nations, the dignity of the human race, the cause of freedom itself, is at stake. That liberty is to be seen engraven at the gate of all

"Yet we do not know if we ought to except the carnage of those three days, for we recollect having seen a communication from Lyons, soon after the commotions in that city, in which it was stated that a greater number of persons, both citizens and soldiers, fell in the conflict between the workmen and the military, than were slain during the memorable three days of Paris. Let us add to this the slaughter at Grenoble, where the people were again victorious, and the sabrings and shootings which have taken place in minor conflicts in several towns and departments, and it will be found that the present government maintains its power at a greater cost of French blood than that which it has superseded.”—Morning | our cities, emblazoned on all our monuments, Herald.

We have long and anxiously looked for some publication from a man of character and literary celebrity of the liberal party in France, which might throw the same light on the consequences of its late revolution as the work of M. Dumont has done on the proceedings of the Constituent Assembly. Such a work is now before us, from the able and eloquent pen of M. Salvandy, to whose striking history of Poland we have in a recent number requested the attention of our readers. He has always been a liberal, opposed in the Chamber of Deputies all the arbitrary acts of the late government, and is a decided defender of the Revolution of July. From such a character the testimony borne to its practical effects is of the highest value.

"The Restoration," says he, "bore in its bosom an enemy, from whose attacks France required incessant protection. That enemy was the counter revolutionary spirit; in other words, the passion to deduce without reserve all its consequences from the principle of legitimacy; the desire to overturn, for the sake of the ancient interests, the political system established by the Revolution, and consecrated by the Charter and a thousand oaths. It was the cancer which consumed it; the danger was pointed out for fifteen years, and at length it devoured it.

floating on all our standards; but, alas! it will float there in vain if the air which we breathe is charged with anarchy, as with a mortal contagion, and if that scourge marks daily with its black mark some of our maxims, of our laws, of our powers, while it is incessantly advancing to the destruction of society itself."

"What power required the sacrifice of the peerage? Let the minister answer it, he said it again and again with candour and courage. It is to popular prejudice, democratic passion, the intoxication of demagogues, the blind hatred of every species of superiority, that this immense sacrifice has been offered. I do not fear to assert, that a nation which has enforced such a sacrifice, on such altars; a nation which could demand or consent to such a sacrifice, has declared itself in the face of the world ignorant of freedom, and perhaps incapable of enjoying it.

"That was the great battle of our revolutionary party. It has gained it. It is no longer by our institutions that we can be defended from its enterprises and its folly. The good sense of the public is now our last safeguard. But let us not deceive ourselves. Should the public spirit become deranged, we are undone. It depends in future on a breath of opinion, whether anarchy should not rise triumphant in the midst of the powers of government. Mistress of the ministry by the elections, it "The Revolution of July also bore in its would speedily become so of the Upper House, entrails another curse: this was the revolu- by the new creations which it would force upon the tionary spirit, evoked from the bloody chaos crown. The Upper House will run the risk, at of our first Revolution, by the sound of the every quinquennial renewal of its numbers, of rapid victory of the people over the royalty. becoming a mere party assemblage: an asThat fatal spirit has weighed upon the desti-sembly elected at second hand by the Chamber of nies of France, since the Revolution of 1830, | Deputies and the electoral colleges. The ruling like its evil genius. I write to illustrate its effects; and I feel I should ill accomplish my task if I did not at the same time combat its doctrines.

"The counter-revolution was no ways formidable, but in consequence of the inevitable anderstanding which existed between its sup

party henceforth, instead of coming to a compromise with it, which constitutes the balance of the three powers, and the basis of a constitutional monarchy, will only require to incorporate itself with it. At the first shock of parties, the revolutionary faction will gain this immense advantage; it will emerge from the bosom of

our institutions as from its eyrie, and reign | have the courage to condemn its premises, or over France with the wings of terror.

to resign yourself to see the terrible logic of "In vain do the opposing parties repeat that party, the austere arms of fortune, deduce its the Revolution of 1830 does not resemble that consequences; otherwise, you plant a tree, and of 1789. That is the very point at issue; and refuse to eat its fruits; you form a volcano, I will indulge in all your hopes, if you are not and expect to sleep in peace by its side. as rash as your predecessors, as ready to de- "With the exception of the Constituent Asstroy, as much disposed to yield to popular sembly, where all understandings were fasciwishes, that is, to the desire of the demagogues who nated, where there reigned a sort of sublime direct them. But can I indulge the hope, that a delirium, all the subsequent legislatures durpeople will not twice in forty years commence ing the Revolution did evil, intending to do the same career of faults and misfortunes, good. The abolition of the monarchy was a when you who have the reins of power, are concession of the Legislative Assembly; the already beginning the same errors? I must head of the king an offering of the Convention. say, the Revolution of 1830 runs the same risk The Girondists in the Legislative Body, in suras its predecessor, if it precipitates its chariot rendering the monarchy, thought they were to the edge of the same precipices. Every-doing the only thing which could save order. where the spirit of 1791 will bear the same | Such was their blindness, that they could not see fruits. In heaven as in earth, it can engender that their own acts had destroyed order, and its only the demon of anarchy.

"The monarchy of the Constituent Assembly, that monarchy which fell almost as soon as it arose, did not perish, as is generally supposed, from an imperfect equilibrium of power, a bad definition of the royal prerogative, or the weakness of the throne. No-the vice lay deeper; it was in its entrails. The old crown of England was not adorned with more jewels than that ephemeral crown of the King of the French. But the crown of England possesses in the social, not less than the political state of England, powerful support, of which France is totally destitute. A constitution without guarantees there reposed on a society which was equally destitute of them, which was as movable as the sands of Africa, as easily raised by the breaths of whirlwinds. The Revolution which founded that stormy society, founded it on false and destructive principles. Not content with levelling to the dust the ancient hierarchy, the old privileges of the orders, the corporate rights of towns, which time had doomed to destruction, it levelled with the same stroke the most legitimate guarantees as the most artificial distinctions. It called the masses of mankind not to equality, but to supremacy.

"The constitution was established on the same principles. In defiance of the whole experience of ages, the Assembly disdained every intermediate or powerful institution which was founded on those conservative principles, without attention to which no state on earth has ever yet flourished. In a word, it called the masses not to liberty, but to power.

last shadow vanished with the fall of the throne. The Plain, or middle party in the Convention, by surrendering Louis to the executioner, thought to satiate the people with that noble blood; and they were punished for it, by being compelled to give their own, and that of all France. It was on the same principle that in our times the peerage has fallen the victim of deplorable concessions. May that great concession, which embraces more interests, and destroys more conservative principles than are generally supposed, which shakes at once all the pillars of the social order, not prepare for those who have occasioned it unavailing regret and deserved punishment!

"The divine justice has a sure means of punishing the exactions, the passions, and the weakness which subvert society. It consists in allowing the parties who urge on the torrent, to reap the consequences of their actions. Thus they go on, without disquieting themselves as to the career on which they have entered; without once looking behind them; thinking only on the next step they have to make in the revolutionary progress, and always believing that it will be the last. But the weight of committed faults drags them on, and they perish under the rock of Sisyphus.

"I will not attempt to conceal my sentiments; the political and moral state of my country fills me with consternation. When you contemplate its population in general, so calm, so laborious, so desirous to enjoy in peace the blessings which the hand of God has poured so liberally into the bosom of our beau

"After having done this, no method re-tiful France, you are filled with hope, and conmained to form a counterpoise to this terrible power. A torrent had been created without bounds—an ocean without a shore. By the eternal laws of nature, it was furious, indomitable, destructive, changeable; leaving nothing standing but the scaffolds on which royalty and rank, and all that was illustrious in talent and virtue, speedily fell; until the people, disabused by suffering, and worn out by passion, resigned their fatal sovereignty into the hands of a great man. Such it was, such it will be, to the end of time. The same vices, the same scourges, the same punishments.

"When you do not wish to fall into an abyss, you must avoid the path which leads to it. When you condemn a principle, you must

template with the eye of hope the future state of our country. But if you direct your look to the region where party strife combats; if you contemplate the incessant efforts to excite in the masses of the population all the bad passions of the social order; to rouse them afresh when they are becoming dormant; to enrol them in regular array when they are floating; to make, for the sake of contending interests, one body, and march together to one prey, which they will dispute in blood; how is it possible to mistake, in that delirium of passion, in that oblivion of the principles of order, in that forgetfulness of the conditions on which it depends, the fatal signs which precede the most violent convulsions! A people in whose