RUSSIAN POLITICS.
Russian tyranny increased the number of the revolutionists, for often a
cause which has at the outset few adherents rapidly develops when blood
has been shed.
Jacob, who had been opposed to those who incited the country to a
revolution, modified his sentiments in its favour when the government
displayed bayonets and erected scaffolds.
At the head of the saviours of Poland by terrorism was the Grand Duke
Constantine, brother of Alexander II., and the Marquis Wielopolski.
These two would probably have adopted another system if Petersburg had
not forced them to employ the traditional remedies of cruelty and
tyranny, banishment, the penalty of death, Siberia, and penal
servitude.
Jacob did not protest against resistance to arbitrary enlistment
accomplished in the most outrageous manner. From the Polish nation,
wounded in its dignity, rose on all sides the cry of revolt. "Rather
death than be slaves, kissing under the knout the hand of our
executioners!"
Jacob was willing to do anything he could, but his former prudence had
alienated him from the revolutionary party. So he employed himself in
publishing a Jewish journal in the Polish language, in which he
continued to maintain his ideas of Jewish reform; but for such a
propaganda the moment was not opportune. New troubles also awaited him.
His articles, written in elegant style with warm conviction, attained
recognition from his co-religionists only on their literary merit. To
some it was superstition, to others fanaticism, and so he remained
alone in politics as well as religion. He was too much Jew or too
little Jew, too patriotic or not patriotic enough. The society of his
mother was a great consolation to him at this time. He had installed
her in his apartments, and often walked out with her, and his filial
devotion had put him under the ban of the wealthy Jewish society. He
was avoided by all. He perceived it, and renounced all relations with
these narrow-minded men. He even ceased to go to Segel's on account of
Henri's coldness. Mathilde gave another explanation to this voluntary
ostracism; in it she saw confirmation of the rumours she had heard. The
poor girl suffered greatly.
One evening Jacob was tempted to visit the Wtorkowska's, hoping to meet
Mathilde. In the midst of an assembly composed almost exclusively of
Russians appeared a new-comer, the Count Bavorof, counsellor of state.
He was scarcely thirty years old, and was said to be a great favourite
of the Grand Duke Constantine, and above all he was a bachelor.
Naturally, Muse wished to count him among the number of her adorers,
and had already tried on him the irresistible combination of beauty
joined to wit.
Jacob approached Mathilde, who was seated at one side, alone. Her
deadly pallor shocked him.
"Are you suffering?" asked he, in a low voice.
The young woman threw on him a glance of profound compassion, and
replied:--
"No. I feel no worse to-day than usual."
"I have not seen you for a long time," said Jacob.
"That is true."
"It is my fault; but I cannot impose myself on men who repulse me."
"Rather, is it not you who repulse them?"
The remark sounded like a reproach.
"How? I? They avoid me because my dear old mother, who is endowed with
many excellent qualities, is not an elegant and fashionable woman. Is
that any reason why I should not love her and cherish her? The
ridiculous snobbishness of my so-called friends will not regulate my
conduct."
"Is it your mother alone that keeps you from us? Perhaps there is
another person who absorbs your time?"
Jacob opened his eyes, astonished. There was something in his look so
open and reassuring, that she felt shaken in her conviction. She
blushed, and was too embarrassed to prolong the conversation, so she
rose and went to sit near Muse. She took her leave soon, bowing to
Jacob from a distance.
The latter was downcast. He sought in vain the key to this enigma. He
understood that some one had calumniated him to his beloved, but who or
what it was he could not imagine.
In the _salon_ the conversation was animated. Colonel Sofronof, Count
Bavorof, Muse, and the Counsellor Pikulinski made most of the noise.
The recent recruiting, from which had burst out the first revolutionary
spark, was the subject of the discussion. Sofronof did not approve of
the measure, and commenced to question the genius of the Marquis
Wielopolski. The Count Bavorof, with his ideas fresh from Moscow, told
of the atrocious repressions, since perfected and adopted with so much
cruelty, which the journalist, Katkof, was disposed to raise to the
height of a system.
The Counsellor Pikulinski was one of those counsellors from whom no one
expects the least counsel. He was an absolute nonentity. The sole
thought which predominated in his poorly developed brain was the
perpetual fear of compromising himself. Like a doll that always squeaks
alike when it is struck in the stomach, at each instant he repeated the
word "yes," with an approving nod of the head.
It mattered little to Pikulinski if the "yes" accorded to one person
contradicted the "yes" offered to another. The essential thing with him
was not to oppose superior authority or its representatives. Thanks to
this invariable line of conduct, he had made a splendid career in the
bureaucratic hierarchy. Decorated with the cordon of Saint Stanislas,
the cross of Saint Waldimir, he enjoyed the entire confidence of the
government as a reward of twenty-five years of faithful service.
Despite his intrinsic nullity he displayed an enormous activity.
Official presentations, manifestations of devotion, addresses of
submission to the government, subscriptions of command, deputations,
wherever he could make himself conspicuous, Pikulinski appeared.
A kind-hearted man, he knew how to render himself agreeable to the old
dignitaries and to the venerable dowagers, and it was natural that he
should expect still further promotion in his civil career. The title of
senator and the order of the White Eagle could not escape him; it was
only a question of time. At each new favour from the government
Pikulinski was profoundly touched. He quickly put on his full-dress
uniform covered with decorations, and hastened to present himself at
the chateau, in order to return his humble thanks. He always returned
from these interviews puffed up with pride at the flattering words of
his chiefs.
"If every one," thought he, "would imitate my example, how many evils
might be averted. Unfortunately, most of my Polish compatriots are
wanting in tact and have little policy."
In Madame Wtorkowska's _salon_ he took no active part in the
conversation, but contented himself by throwing in here and there a
"yes" which was only varied by the inflexion.
"Russia," said Bavorof, "can say that she will act independently with
more justice than Italy. She will carefully refrain from an alliance
with perfidious Austria and feudal Prussia. Young and vigorous, she is
strong enough to make head against the whole Occident united."
"Yes," immediately assented Pikulinski.
"It would be wiser to avoid the conflict," said Sofronof.
"Yes," said the counsellor of state feebly.
"For my part," said Jacob, "I think it would be a sensible thing for
her not to engage in so formidable a combat."
"And why, then?" demanded Bavorof.
At this question Pikulinski accidentally let fall a "yes," which he
tried to smother by coughing.
"Poland," replied Jacob, "claims only the liberties guaranteed by
legitimate treaties of the past. It would be much better to give them
to her, than to reply by terrorism and false claims."
The counsellor of state could scarcely suppress a "yes," which was on
the point of coming out; then he feared that he had compromised himself
by merely assisting at this conversation; he was taken with pains in
the stomach, and took refuge in another part of the room.
"You are putting yourself in a bad light, monsieur," replied the count.
"We do not recognize any rights whatever on the part of Poland nor the
Poles, not even the inherent rights of men. Our first duty is to
repress this revolutionary tendency. Our strength sustains us; it is by
this that we live. Our sole means of existence are our swords."
"To say that Russia's only power is brute force," replied Jacob, "is to
avow her moral weakness."
"Until the present the empire has had no other foundation than force,
described by you as brutal. That may change, perhaps; but in the
meanwhile I repeat to you our gospel is the sword."
The count's cynicism shocked the colonel, who was more diplomatic.
"Monsieur le Comte," said he, "I cannot entirely agree with you. There
are certain hereditary rights which should be superior to force."
Pikulinski almost let fall a "yes," but judged it prudent to await a
better occasion.
"Passive obedience," continued Jacob, addressing the count, "seems to
be your principal axiom."
"Yes, for it is a national axiom, powerful as a religious dogma. Add to
that, money, official position, decorations, titles of nobility, and
all advantages which the government can give"--
"Then you speculate on human weaknesses, cupidity, vanity, ambition?"
"You have said it. All the science of statesmen worthy of the name is
summed up in working men through their vices. To speculate on virtue is
only a dream, a childish illusion. Why? Because in humanity vice always
predominates over virtue."
Muse, who practised after her own fashion the maxims of Bavorof,
believed, nevertheless, that it would look better for one of her sex to
appear shocked, and cried:--
"Oh, Monsieur le Comte, your ideas are really shocking."
"Pardon me, mademoiselle, they were not said for your charming ears."
Pikulinski let fall a loud "yes," being sure that he could not
compromise himself this time.
"You know, however," replied Muse, "that just now most of our women are
mixed up in politics. We are accustomed to hear everything, and our
influence is widespread."
"It is a misfortune. It does not well become your white hands to stir
up the filth of life, nor to penetrate, elegant and perfumed, into the
laboratory where are prepared the drugs for the maladies of humanity."
Pikulinski thought this remark merited a repeated "yes, yes."
"You think, then," asked Jacob, "that morals should have no part in the
government of nations?"
"Morals! There is no sense in the word. Politics exclude morals."
"If that is your profession of faith, all discussion is impossible
between us. I believe in morality, always and everywhere, and every
time that an injury is done to it I call on the justice of God."
"God! Justice! You believe in that? Are you a Catholic?"
"No; I am a Jew."
Bavorof had never met a Jew of this stamp. He looked at him in
astonishment, and asked:--
"German Jew?"
"No; Polish."
"Does Poland contain many Jews who think and reason like you?"
"I do not understand the question."
"I mean no offence. I wish to know if there are in Poland many
Israelites who are polished and educated."
"There are many better educated and more polished than I."
"Then so much the better. You can exercise a happy influence over the
people in curing them of their patriotism without a future, and of
their superannuated Catholicism. Eliminate the feudal spirit and that
of the nobility, and with these new conditions will come the fusion
between Russia and Poland."
"The Jews who are preserved, thanks to their religious faith, cannot
employ themselves by tearing out the hearts of others."
"I have, then, the pleasure of talking with a revolutionist."
"Not at all. Though there are circumstances when men who were most
opposed to revolution have taken part in them, in spite of themselves."
"Pardon me," said Sofronof, interrupting him. "The truth is that Poland
will never be satisfied. Give her autonomy. She would soon demand the
annexation of the provinces included in Russia, Prussia, and Austria.
Give them all that, and they would claim the ports on the Baltic and on
the Black sea."
"One thing certain," replied Jacob, "is that Russia never yet has tried
to satisfy Poland in any way."
"And Alexander I.?" asked Bavorof.
"Alexander I. promised much and performed little, and that little he
has taken back again by the hand of his brother, the Tsarevitch
Constantine."
At these words Pikulinski was thoroughly frightened; he was afraid to
breathe even the same air with this audacious man. He thought of
pretending to have the nose-bleed for a pretext to leave suddenly.
However, he remained.
"And Russia did wrong to promise and make those concessions," replied
Bavorof. "Since 1815 it has been necessary to uproot and overthrow
Polonism and Catholicism. They must be replaced by the Russian spirit
and the orthodox Greek church."
"But, Monsieur le Comte, did you not just avow that Russia's power is
in her material force? In that case, what is the Russian spirit, and
how shall she inspire others with a spirit which is actually
incompatible with strength?"
"The contradiction is not so apparent. Our spirit is to destroy all
those who do not think with us. We were wrong to deceive Poland with
fallacious promises; between us it is a battle to the death. Her
annihilation is our end, and always has been."
"And what will come out of the ruins?"
"An enormous Russia, a Russia semi-civilized,--paleoslav, democratic,
and social, with a Czar at the head. A republic, if you will,
_democ-soc_, as they said in 1848, with a hereditary president clothed
with dictatorial authority, and to the eyes of the ignorant masses of a
sacred and divine character. I am a noble; but to tell the truth, in
Russia nobility does not exist. It never has existed, and never will.
All Russians are equally under the knout."
This expression of the republic, _democ-soc_, even in the mouth of
Bavorof, sounded so badly to the ears of Pikulinski, that this time he
suppressed the "yes," and, under pretext of the nose-bleed that he had
in reserve, hid his face in his handkerchief.
Jacob, after taking the tour of the _salon_ two or three times, took
his leave.
"Who is this man?" asked the count. "Is he really a Jew?"
"Yes," replied Muse; "and there are many Israelites here who are as
well educated."
"And have they the same ideas?"
"Not by any means," replied Sofronof, who had some acquaintance with
Jewish society. "This man is an exception. He is an idealist, a
dreamer, a reformer. An original, he walks alone."
"A dangerous man," muttered Bavorof. "He is obstinate, no doubt, like
all men with convictions, imbued with a fervent mysticism and plunged
in the clouds of spirituality. He sets up a standard of morals and
right that takes with weak-minded people everywhere; above all, the
women. If he were a Catholic I would have arrested him and banished him
without further ceremony; but he is only a Jew, so we can have a little
patience."
"At Warsaw," said Muse, "the Israelites play a grand role. It is
difficult to distinguish them from the rest of society at first sight."
"But from what I have heard they are not friends with the feudalists."
"It is not so; they are reconciled."
"That is a pity. Then we must sow discord among them. Divide and
conquer is one of our maxims."
"You are a strange politician, dear count," said Sofronof; "you think
aloud."
"Like a celebrated minister. To-day it is the best way to deceive the
world. Men are always disposed to attribute to you ideas contrary to
those which you loudly proclaim."
Pikulinski confirmed this sentence with two loud "yeses," and went away
wondering if he could in any way have compromised himself.
One day, soon after, Bavorof said to Sofronof:--
"I recommend you, colonel, to warn the police not to lose sight of this
Jew, Jacob. He displeases me. He sees through our plots. There are only
two alternatives: to oblige him to serve us, or to send him to Penza."
"What good would that do? His is an open nature, from which we have
nothing to fear. He is wrapped up in the Talmud and his innocent mania
of playing the prophet."
"As for me, I despise his prophecy. Is he rich?"
"Very rich."
"So much the worse. Ambitious?"
"Not the least in the world."
"Still worse. Is he a coward?"
"I do not think so."
"In that case to Penza! To Penza!"
"But he is not a revolutionist."
"That is still worse. Sooner or later a revolutionist will change his
skin. A revolutionist can be dealt with; but a liberal, a legalist, a
moralist, who believes in men's rights, this is a dangerous animal.
Give me individuals like Pikulinski, malleable to our will, and I will
place them in the centre of our social organism. We can control them,
and, with the rabble at our feet, all will go smoothly. Hurrah!"