The Present State of Affairs.
Under the above heading, an interesting article appears in an English Monthly, from which the following is a short extract: The present state of affairs is no easy subject to deal with amidst so many conflicting rumors, and in such a labyrinth of political embarrassments. Yet one thing, and one alone, is clear—that no nation within the limits of the prophetic earth is, at this moment, perfectly settled, much less perfectly secure—or, rather there is no nation which is not in such a position, that it might not at a day's notice be involved in war or revolution. The only settled thing is the universal dissettlement of nations; the only thing sure, is that no nation can be sure of one day's peace. Like the forerunners of a tropical hurricane, we see the little clouds flitting here and there "with the rapidity of birds"—while the air below and around us is as calm as death—the storm is high above our heads—when will it rush down? If we move from North to South, we find Russia at war in Central Asia, advancing to India as surely as the night is stealing on the day. Italy all but bankrupt, yet compelled to maintain her army at its utmost strength—and to prepare for an attack, sooner or later, on Venetia. Bankruptcy, if the army should be kept up much longer—tumult or revolution, inevitable,147if the army shall be disbanded, or Venetia left permanently under Austria. We need not speak now of Rome or of the Pope, for that subject is before the minds of all the world, and, besides, the time has not come for seeing it in all its outlines and dimensions. Look next to the East and West, and you will find ubiquitous Russia in Central Asia, and at the center of Asiatic centers, Samarcand. India always ready for revolt, America full of confusion, and preparing for war. China, in the furthest east, in a state of permanent rebellion—the remotest western nations of America always in a state of feud. As for Europe itself—every nation and country, except Holland and Portugal, is more or less embroiled either at home, or with its neighbors. Germany is seething like a cauldron; and Spain is always in confusion—as well it may, being the masterpiece of Palmerstonian statesmanship. What real good could come from such a source? In short, "the whole earth sitteth still and is at rest," and yet all is undermined by subterranean fires—and the subterranean smoke issues out through many a yawning chasm. Christendom has grown hard and dry—Christianity, in man's vile hands, and under his very feet, has been moulded into idolatry, or trampled into dust! And the weary earth opens her mouth to swallow up the impostor and the imposture. Man is the impostor and man's Christianity is the imposture, and both shall be swallowed up together. The thick smoke issuing through a thousand chasms, gives warning of the earthquake. * Russia struggling on the brink of ruin, with internal difficulties, yet contriving to conquer Central Asia, and to advance to India, at the same time. Italy growing in power and prosperity, yet on the verge of bankruptcy. America longing to fold her arms in peace, yet preparing for war. The Fenians put down under ineffable scorn, yet stronger than ever, and preparing for an outbreak in some unknown direction. An ambitious emperor renouncing all schemes of conquest, and converted in a moment into a kind of President of the Peace Society. Giving up Belgium, giving up the Rhine, reducing his army, reducing even his favorite naval establishments, yet keeping both army and navy just as efficient as before! What an odd combination of apparent tranquility, and real, deep, unfathomable agitation. A calm on the surface, an earthquake shaking the bottom of the deep—a calm on the level of the horizon, a tempest in the heights of the atmosphere. *