Review and Herald, Vol. 41, No. 11. (2/25/1873)

Review and Herald

Feb 25, 1873

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Feb 25, 1873

LIFE OF WILLIAM MILLER.

By James White

BY ELD. JAMES WHITE.

CHAPTER THREE.

INTERVAL BETWEEN HIS CONVERSION AND HIS PUBLIC LABORS—CORRESPONDENCE—DIALOGUE WITH A PHYSICIAN.

All truly great and good men, who have been the honored instruments in the hands of God of accomplishing good, and of leading his people in the way of truth, have had wrought in them a deep experience in the things of the Spirit of God. This being the case with William Miller, we are happy to give in this chapter some of the important facts in his experience. His biographer says:—

From the time that Mr. Miller became established in his religious faith, till he commenced his public labors—a period of twelve or fourteen years—there were few prominent incidents in his life to distinguish him from other men. He was a good citizen, a kind neighbor, an affectionate husband and parent, and a devoted Christian; good to the poor, and benevolent, as objects of charity were presented; in the Sunday-school, was teacher and superintendent; in the church, he performed important service as a reader and exhorter, and, in the support of religious worship, no other member, perhaps, did as much as he. He was very exemplary in his life and conversation, endeavored at all times to perform the duties, whether public or private, which devolved on him, and whatever he did was done cheerfully, as for the glory of God. His leisure hours were devoted to reading and meditation; he kept himself well informed respecting the current events of the time; occasionally communicated his thoughts through the press, and often, for his own private amusement, or for the entertainment of friends, indulged in various poetical effusions, which, for unstudied productions, are possessed of some merit; but his principal enjoyment was derived from the study of the Bible. His state of mind at this time can be better given in his own language.

“With the solemn conviction that such momentous events were predicted in the Scriptures, to be fulfilled in so short a space of time, the question came home to me with mighty power regarding my duty to the world, in view of the evidence that had affected my own mind. If the end was so near, it was important that the world should know it. I supposed that it would call forth the opposition of the ungodly; but it never came into my mind that any Christian would oppose it. I supposed that all such would be so rejoiced, in view of the glorious prospect, that it would only be necessary to present it, for them to receive it. My great fear was that, in their joy at the hope of a glorious inheritance so soon to be revealed, they would receive the doctrine without sufficiently examining the Scriptures in demonstration of its truth. I therefore feared to present it, lest, by some possibility, I should be in error, and be the means of misleading any.”

“Various difficulties, and objections would arise in my mind, from time to time; certain texts would occur to me, which seemed to weigh against my conclusions; and I would not present a view to others, while any difficulty appeared to militate against it. I therefore continued the study of the Bible, to see if I could sustain any of these objections. My object was not merely to remove them, but I wished to see if they were valid.

“Sometimes, when at work, a text would arise like this: ‘Of that day and hour knoweth no man,’ &c.; and how, then, could the Bible reveal the time of the advent? I would then immediately examine the context in which it was found, and I saw at once that, in the same connection, we are informed how we may know when it is nigh, even at the doors; consequently, that text could not teach that we could know nothing of the time of that event. Other texts, which are advanced in support of the doctrine of a temporal millennium, would arise; but, on examining their context, I invariably found that they were applicable only to the eternal state, or were so illustrative of the spread of the gospel here, as to be entirely irrelevant to the position they were adduced to support.

“Thus all those passages that speak of the will of God being done on earth as in Heaven, of the earth being full of the knowledge of the glory of God, &c., could not be applicable to a time when the man of sin was prevailing against the saints, or when the righteous and wicked were dwelling together, which is to be the case until the end of the world. Those which speak of the gospel being preached in all the world, teach that, as soon as it should be thus preached, the end was to come; so that it could not be delayed a thousand years from that time, nor long enough for the world’s conversion after the preaching of the gospel as a witness.

“The question of the resurrection and judgment was, for a time, an obstacle in the way. Being instructed that all the dead would be raised at the same time, I supposed it must be so taught in the Bible; but I soon saw it was one of the traditions of the elders.

“So, also, with the return of the Jews. That question I saw could only be sustained by denying the positive declarations of the New Testament, which assert: ‘There is no difference between the Jew and the Greek;’ that ‘the promise that he shall be the heir of the world was not to Abraham and his seed through the law, but through the righteousness of faith;’ that ‘there is neither Jew nor Greek, bond nor free, male nor female;’ but that ‘if ye are Christ’s, then are ye Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.’ I was, therefore, obliged to discard an objection which asserts there is a difference between the Jew and Greek; that the children of the flesh are accounted for the seed, &c.”

“In this way I was occupied for five years—from 1818 to 1823—in weighing the various objections which were being presented to my mind. During that time, more objections arose in my mind than have been advanced by my opponents since; and I know of no objection that has been since advanced which did not then occur to me. But, however strong they at first appeared, after examining them in the light of the divine word, I could only compare them to straws, laid down singly as obstacles, on a well-beaten road: the car of truth rolled over them, unimpeded in its progress.

“I was then fully settled in the conclusions which seven years previously had begun to bear with such impressive force upon my mind; and the duty of presenting the evidence of the nearness of the advent to others—which I had managed to evade while I could find the shadow of an objection remaining against its truth—again came home to me with great force. I had, previously, only thrown out occasional hints of my views. I then began to speak more clearly my opinions to my neighbors, to ministers, and others. To my astonishment, I found very few who listened with any interest. Occasionally, one would see the force of the evidence; but the great majority passed it by as an idle tale. I was, therefore, disappointed in finding any who would declare this doctrine, as I felt it should be, for the comfort of saints, and as a warning to sinners.”

His correspondence during this period shows ardent longings for the salvation of his relatives and friends. In a letter to a sister, dated June 25, 1825, after writing on various subjects of family interest, he says:—

“DEAR BROTHER AND SISTER:—All the news that we had to tell having been told above, I will now add a few lines; and oh! may they be directed by Infinite Wisdom! What are your prospects for eternity? Is there a land of eternal rest, beyond the confines of this world, in prospect? Do you believe that the blood of the everlasting covenant can and will cleanse you from all sin? Are you satisfied with your present evidence of an interest in that blood? That we shall die, is certain; and due preparation for a better world is wisdom; and we ought, as rational beings, to make ourselves familiar with the road and acquainted with the inhabitants of said country. O my soul! go thou to the mansions of the dead, and learn there the end of all living. That we ought to be cleansed from all sin, in order to be happy, is certain; for sin constitutes all misery; and a person living in the enjoyment (falsely so called) of sin cannot enter into rest. How necessary, then, is the work of regeneration and sanctification! And may we obtain that evidence which will enable us, with Thomas, to say, ‘My Lord and my God!’ Redemption is the work of God. How proper, then, that Jesus should be called the Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel! Redemption is from sin. How improper, then, that we should live any longer therein! We ought as much to strive to attain to perfection as if it was attainable here below.

‘Lord, I believe thy heavenly word; Fain would I have my soul renewed. I mourn for sin, and trust the Lord To have it pardoned and subdued. My King, my Saviour, and my God, Let grace my sinful soul renew; Wash my offences with thy blood, And make my heart sincere and true. ‘O may thy grace its power display! Let guilt and death no longer reign; Save me in thine appointed way, Nor let my humble faith be vain. Ye favored lands, who have his word, Ye saints, who feel its saving power, Unite your tongues to praise the Lord, And his distinguished grace adore.’

“P. S. June 30th.—I have this day been to Whitehall, to see the celebrated Marquis de Lafayette, that made such a conspicuous figure, half a century ago, in our Revolution. He is a pleasant-looking old man, a friend to freemen, a terror to tyrants, and one that has spent his treasures, his blood, and the best part of his life, in the cause of freedom and the rights of man. He has suffered much; yet he retains a good constitution. He goes a little lame, occasioned by wounds he received in the Revolution. He deserves the thanks of Americans, and he has received a general burst of gratitude from Maine to the Mississippi. He has visited every State in the Union and almost every important town. I had the pleasure of dining with him; and after dinner he took a passage for New York. “Yours, &c., Wm. Miller.”

That Mr. M. was one of the men prominent in his section of the country, is shown by his mingling with them, as above, on the various public occasions.

He derived such pleasure from the study of the Bible that it was almost his constant companion; and a portion of each day was devoted to its private perusal. He loved to meditate on its teachings and to talk about its promises.

In the winter of 1828, the church in Low Hampton, of which Mr. Miller was a member, was refreshed by an outpouring of the Holy Spirit. In a letter, dated March 12, written to Elder Hendryx, to whom reference has before been made, Mr. Miller says: “One young man came to my house last night after nine o’clock, to request prayers. He said he had been eight years under conviction, and appeared to be almost in despair. I thought I could say to him, as did John the Baptist to his disciples: ‘Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world!’ Twelve or fourteen requested prayers last Sunday evening. It is really the work of the Lord. I never lived in a reformation so general, so solemn, and with so little noise. Surely, we have reason to rejoice and be glad. The Lord has remembered the low state of his people, and hath come down to deliver. Two of my children, William and Bellona, as I have a good degree of hope, are subjects of grace. Pray for us.”

In the same letter he makes mention of trials, as well as blessings. He says: “On Saturday, the first day of March, our meeting-house was consumed by fire. We should have almost despaired of ever building again, had not the Lord visited us by his grace, and likewise opened the hearts of our Christian friends from abroad. $400 have been subscribed from the adjoining towns. There is now some prospect that we shall build. You know we are weak in numbers. We are really so in resources. I must bend my whole force to gain the above-mentioned object.”

Mr. Miller succeeded in the accomplishment of his wishes, assisting according to his ability and known liberality.

He continued to make the Bible his daily study, and became more and more convinced that he had a personal duty to perform respecting what he conceived the Bible to teach of the nearness of the Advent. These impressions he thus describes:—

“When I was about my business, it was continually ringing in my ears, ‘Go and tell the world of their danger.’ This text was constantly occurring to me: ‘When I say unto the wicked, O wicked man, thou shalt surely die; if thou dost not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at thy hand. Nevertheless, if thou warn the wicked of his way to turn from it; if he do not turn from his way, he shall die in his iniquity; but thou hast delivered thy soul.’ Eze. 33:8, 9. I felt that, if the wicked could be effectually warned, multitudes of them would repent; and that, if they were not warned, their blood might be required at my hand. I did all I could to avoid the conviction that anything was required of me; and I thought that by freely speaking of it to all, I should

perform my duty, and that God would raise up the necessary instrumentality for the accomplishment of the work. I prayed that some minister might see the truth, and devote himself to its promulgation; but still it was impressed upon me, ‘Go and tell it to the world: their blood will I require at thy hand.’ The more I presented it in conversation, the more dissatisfied I felt with myself for withholding it from the public. I tried to excuse myself to the Lord for not going out and proclaiming it to the world. I told the Lord that I was not used to public speaking; that I had not the necessary qualifications to gain the attention of an audience; that I was very diffident, and feared to go before the world; that they would ‘not believe me nor hearken to my voice;’ that I was ‘slow of speech, and of a slow tongue.’ But I could get no relief.”

In this way he struggled on for nine years longer, pursuing the study of the Bible, doing all he could to present the nearness of Christ’s coming to those whose circumstances threw in his way; but resisting his impressions of duty to go out as a public teacher. He was then fifty years old, and it seemed impossible for him to surmount the obstacles which lay in his path, to successfully present it in a public manner.

His freedom to converse on the subject, and the ability with which he was able to defend his own views, and oppose those differing from him, had given him no little celebrity in his denomination in all that region; and some were rather shy in approaching him. Elder T. Hendryx, a Baptist clergyman, now in the State of Pennsylvania, who has kindly furnished the biographer with many original letters from Mr. Miller, thus speaks of his first acquaintance with him:—

“My first acquaintance with Brother Miller was in the summer of 1831. I had been requested to visit the Baptist church in Hampton, and concluded to go. When about to start, I was informed by a brother in the church of which I was a member, in Salem, N. Y., that there was a brother in the Hampton church, possessing considerable influence, who had many curious notions on doctrinal points, and on the prophecies—particularly on the latter; and also (to use the brother’s language) that he was ‘hard on ministers who differed with him.’ Having recently commenced preaching, without much confidence in my own ability, and not having made any engagement to the church, I at first almost concluded not to go. On further reflection, I decided to go, and put my trust in Him, who had said, ‘Lo, I am with you always.’ On my way, I endeavored, by prayer and meditation, to divest myself of all prejudice against his peculiar notions, whatever they might be (for as yet I was ignorant of them), and at the same time to fortify myself against being led into error by him. I arrived at Bro. Miller’s on the 6th of July, 1831. You may well suppose that my situation was not very enviable. I moved tremblingly and with the utmost caution. In spite of me, I could not act like myself; and it was not till I had been there nearly a week, and preached several discourses, that I could feel at home, or enjoy my wonted freedom in preaching the word. Several other ministering brethren visited at Bro. M.’s during my stay there, and I found that I was not altogether alone in those feelings. But how perfectly groundless those fears! Instead of pouncing upon my errors like the tiger, no brother ever dealt with me more tenderly, or exhibited a better spirit in presenting his views.

“After being with Bro. M. some time, he asked me my views on the millennium. Having thrown off all reserve, I readily gave them. I had embraced the old view—the world’s conversion a thousand years before the advent; and answered him accordingly. His reply was: ‘Well Bro. H., prove it! You know I want Bible for all that I receive.’ ‘Well,’ said I; and, taking my Bible, I turned to the 20th of Revelation, and was about to read, when I thought I would examine it again, and with very close attention. I was in a deep study. Bro. M. was waiting, and watching me closely. He began to smile. ‘Why don’t you read, Bro. H.?’ said he. I was astonished; for I could not make it out. At last I said: ‘I go home next Monday. I will draw the passages off, and hand them to you when I return.’ I took some four days for it, and gave him a long list of passages. He read them, and said: ‘Bro. H., what has become of your old theory? This is mine.’ ‘Well,’ said I, ‘it is mine, too.’ In my examination, my ‘theory’ had been overturned, and I came out where I now stand.

“One thing I observed in Bro. M.’s character: If he ever dealt harshly with a brother for holding an error, it was because he saw, or thought he saw, a spirit of self-importance in him.”

The labors of Elder Hendryx were attended with a blessing, as appears from a letter of Mr. Miller’s to him, dated August 9, 1831. In it he says: “The Lord is pouring out his Spirit among us, but not in so powerful a manner as I could wish. Baptism has been administered every Sabbath but one since you were here. Two or three have obtained hope every week.”

As Mr. Miller’s opinions respecting the nearness and nature of the millennium became known, they naturally elicited a good deal of comment among his friends and neighbors, and also among those at a distance. Some of their remarks, not the most complimentary to his sanity, would occasionally be repeated to him.

Having heard that a physician in his neighborhood had said “Esquire Miller,” as he was familiarly called, “was a fine man and a good neighbor, but was a monomaniac on the subject of the advent,” Mr. M. was humorously inclined to let him prescribe for his case.

One of his children being sick one day, he sent for the doctor, who, after prescribing for the child, noticed that Mr. Miller was very mute in one corner, and asked what ailed him.

“Well, I hardly know, doctor. I want you to see what ails me, and prescribe for me.”

The doctor felt of his pulse, &c., and could not decide respecting his malady; and inquired what he supposed was his complaint.

“Well,” says Mr. Miller, “I don’t know but I am a monomaniac; and I want you to examine me, and see if I am; and if so, cure me. Can you tell when a man is a monomaniac?”

The doctor blushed, and said he thought he could.

Mr. Miller wished to know how.

“Why,” said the doctor, “a monomaniac is rational on all subjects but one; and when you touch that particular subject, he will become raving.”

“Well,” says Mr. Miller, “I insist upon it that you see whether I am in reality a monomaniac; and if I am, you shall prescribe for and cure me. You shall, therefore, sit down with me two hours, while I present the subject of the advent to you, and, if I am a monomaniac, by that time you will discover it.”

The doctor was somewhat disconcerted; but Mr. Miller insisted, and told him, as it was to present the state of his mind, he might charge for his time as in regular practice.

The doctor finally consented; and, at Mr. Miller’s request, opened the Bible and read from the 8th of Daniel. As he read along, Mr. Miller inquired what the ram denoted, with the other symbols presented. The doctor had read Newton, and applied them to Persia, Greece, and Rome, as Mr. Miller did.

Mr. Miller then inquired how long the vision of those empires was to be.

“2300 days.”

“What!” said Mr. Miller, “could those great empires cover only 2300 literal days?”

“Why,” said the doctor, “those days are years, according to all commentators; and those kingdoms are to continue 2300 years.”

Mr. M. then asked him to turn to the 2d of Daniel, and to the 7th; all of which he explained the same as Mr. Miller. He was then asked if he knew when the 2300 days would end. He did not know, as he could not tell when they commenced.

Mr. Miller told him to read the 9th of Daniel. He read down till he came to the 21st verse, when Daniel saw “the man Gabriel,” whom he had “seen in the vision.”

“In what vision?” Mr. Miller inquired.

“Why,” said the doctor, “in the vision of the 8th of Daniel.”

“‘Wherefore, understand the matter and consider the vision.’ He had now come, then, to make him understand that vision, had he?”

“Yes,” said the doctor.

“Well, seventy weeks are determined; what are these seventy weeks a part of?”

“Of the 2300 days.”

“Then do they begin with the 2300 days?”

“Yes,” said the doctor.

“When did they end?”

“In A. D. 33.”

“Then how far would the 2300 extend after 33?”

“The doctor subtracted 490 from 2300, and replied, 1810. ‘Why,’ said he, ‘that is past.’”

“But,” said Mr. Miller, “there were 1810 from 33; in what year would that come?”

The doctor saw at once that the 33 should be added, and set down 33 and 1810, and, adding them, replied, 1843.

At this unexpected result the doctor settled back in his chair and colored; but immediately took his hat and left the house in a rage.

The next day he again called on Mr. Miller, and looked as though he had been in the greatest mental agony.

“Why, Mr. Miller,” said he, “I am going to hell. I have not slept a wink since I was here yesterday. I have looked at the question in every light, and the vision must terminate about A. D. 1843; and I am unprepared, and must go to hell.”

Mr. Miller calmed him, and pointed him to the ark of safety; and in about a week, calling each day on Mr. M., he found peace to his soul, and went on his way rejoicing, as great a monomaniac as Mr. Miller. He afterwards acknowledged that, till he made the figures 1843, he had no idea of the result to which he was coming.

ABIDING WITH GOD.

Let every one, whate’er his calling be, Therein abide with God: so wrote of old Saint Paul to them at Corinth, and to me, With loving lips, to-night, that truth was told. I had grown weary with my strifes and cares, And murmured o’er the service of the day, Wherein I had forgotten, unawares, That thus I still might honor and obey.

Therein abide with God: would I might ne’er forget, That evermore I might with him abide: What matters how or where the stamp is set, Or what the furnace where the gold is tried, So that the metal has the sterling ring, So that the likeness of the King is shown; God’s coinage still, that to the soul may bring Such wealth as merchant princes have not known.

In market places where the race is swift, And competition on temptation waits; In quiet homes where unseen currents drift A thousand petty cares through open gates; Let each and all, whate’er the calling be, Therein abide with God; from break of day Till set of sun, they shall his purpose see, And serve him in his own appointed way.

So let me see and serve, and thus abide; Not simply patient, or at best content, Not with eye-service, wherein, love denied, In rounds of duty solemn days are spent; Give me, O Lord, a joy that is divine; Touch thou my lips with constant themes of praise; Since, having thee, all things I need are mine, Whate’er my lot, whate’er my length of days.

—New York Observer.

The Eastern Question.

The well-known writer, J. S. C. Abbott, in his “Prussia and the Franco-Prussian war,” speaks as follows respecting the long-cherished desire of Russia to obtain possession of Constantinople and European Turkey. This throws much light on Dan. 11: 45, which predicts that the king of the north, which is, undoubtedly, Turkey, shall eventually plant the tabernacles of his palace between the seas in the glorious, holy mountain, Jerusalem. At this place, the Turk will most naturally fix the seat of his government when expelled from Europe; and this expulsion is evidently not far distant. But when this takes place, we have, according to the first verse of the next chapter, the signal for the standing up of Michael, which means that Christ, our Redeemer, shall then take his kingdom, and commence his glorious and everlasting reign. Hail, long-wished-for day! Hail, all the indications of its near approach!

It is confidently affirmed by the partisans of France, that Bismarck, anxious to extend along both sides of the Rhine the territory of the great German empire he was seeking to construct, goaded France into the war (for which Prussia was all prepared), and purchased the neutrality of Russia by a secret treaty, in which he agreed to co-operate with the czar in his designs upon Constantinople. It has long been the great object of Russian ambition to drive the Turks back into Asia, and, seizing upon Constantinople, to make it the southern capital of the Russian Empire. A brief reference to the geography of those regions will show the vast importance of this measure to Russia.

The Mediterranean Sea is connected with the Sea of Marmora by a serpentine strait, usually called the Hellespont, which is from half a mile to a mile and a half in width. At the mouth of this strait, there are four strong, Turkish forts, called the Dardanelles, consequently the strait itself frequently takes the same name. Nothing can be easier than to crown the crags and bluffs which line these waters with fortresses that no fleet can pass.

Having threaded the Strait of the Dardanelles, you pass into the Sea of Marmora, a hundred and eighty miles in length, and sixty in breadth. Crossing this sea to its northern shore, you enter the Bosphorus. This strait, which is about fifteen miles long, and of an average width of half a mile, conducts you to the Black Sea, in itself an ocean—seven hundred miles long, and three hundred broad. The Strait of the Bosphorus is considered the most attractive sheet of water upon the globe. But a short distance up the strait, on the European side, the imperial city of Constantinople is reared. It seems to be the uncontradicted testimony of all observers, that earth presents no other site so favorable for a great metropolis.

The Black Sea receives into its immense reservoir not only the Danube, but nearly all the majestic rivers of Russia—the Dnieper, the Dniester, and the Don. The great empire of Russia, with a territory three times as large as that of the United States, and with more than twice its population, has no access to the ocean for purposes of commerce but by a few seaports on the Baltic, far away in the north, which, for a large portion of the year, are blocked by the ice. It seems essential to the prosperity of Russia, to the development of her resources, in her emergence from comparative barbarism, that she should have free commercial intercourse with the outside world. It is only through the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles that Russia can find avenues to this commerce. But the Turks can at any time close this door, and refuse to allow any Russian ship to enter or depart. In case of war, Turkey can thus almost annihilate Russian commerce.

For about a hundred years it has been the constant object of Russian ambition to obtain Constantinople as her southern capital, and the Dardanelles and the Bosphorus as her commercial avenues. This has been the constant effort of her diplomacy; and it has led to many sanguinary conflicts.

When in 1827, the Greeks emancipated themselves from the Turkish yoke, they were encouraged to the effort, and aided in the struggle by Russia. As the result of that conflict, the czar took a long stride towards the possession of Constantinople; but all the European monarchies seem united in their determination that Russia, in possession of the imperial city and of the straits which lead to it, would be invulnerable, and could bid defiance to combined Europe; the Black Sea would become an impregnable harbor; its shores a navy-yard which no fleet or army could penetrate.

The anxiety which England feels upon this subject may be inferred from the following extract from the London Quarterly Review:—

“The possession of the Dardanelles would give to Russia the means of creating and organizing an almost unlimited marine. It would enable her to prepare in the Black Sea an armament of any extent, without its being possible for any power in Europe to interrupt her proceedings, or even to watch or discover her designs. It is obvious that, in the event of war, it would be in the power of Russia to throw the whole weight of her disposable forces on any point in the Mediterranean, without any probability of our being able to prevent it. Her whole southern empire would be defended by a single impregnable fortress. The road to India would be open to her, with all Asia at her back. The finest materials in the world for an army destined to serve in the East would be at her disposal. Our power to overawe her in Europe would be gone; and, by even a demonstration against India, she could augment our national expenditure by millions annually, and render the government of the country difficult beyond all calculation.”

M. Meneval, the private secretary of Napoleon I., testifies that in one of the interviews of the emperor with Alexander I., the czar offered to co-operate with the emperor of France in all his plans of aggrandizement, if Napoleon would consent that Russia should take possession of Constantinople. The emperor, after a moment’s reflection, replied:

“Constantinople? never! It is the empire of the world!”

On the 6th of Nov., 1816, Napoleon, at St. Helena, conversing with Las Casas, said:—

“Russia has a vast superiority over the rest of Europe in regard to the immense powers she can call up for the purpose of invasion, together with the physical advantages of her situation under the pole, and backed by eternal bulwarks of ice, which, in case of need, will render her inaccessible. Who can avoid shuddering at the thought of such a vast mass, unassailable on the flanks or in the rear, descending upon us with impunity; if triumphant, overwhelming everything in its course; or, if defeated, retiring amidst the cold and desolation which may be called its forces of reserve, and possessing every facility of issuing

forth again at every opportunity? Constantinople is, from its situation, calculated to be the seat and center of universal dominion.”

Again, on the 14th of Feb., 1817, Dr. O’Meara inquired of the emperor if it were true that Alexander of Russia intended to seize Constantinople. The emperor replied: “All his thoughts are directed to the conquest of Turkey. We have had many discussions about it. At first I was pleased with his proposals, because I thought it would enlighten the world to drive those brutes, the Turks, out of Europe; but when I reflected upon the consequences, and saw what a tremendous weight of power it would give to Russia on account of the number of Greeks in the Turkish dominions, who would naturally join the Russians, I refused to consent to it; especially as Alexander wanted to get Constantinople, which I would not allow, for it would destroy the equilibrium of power in Europe.”

A few months after this, on the 27th of May, 1817, the conversation again turned on this all-important subject, in the humble apartment of the exile at St. Helena. Speaking to Dr. O’Meara, the emperor said: “In the course of a few years Russia will have Constantinople, the greater part of Turkey, and all Greece. Almost all the cajoling and flattery which Alexander practiced toward me was to gain my consent to effect this object. In the natural course of things, in a few years Turkey must fall to Russia. The powers it could injure, who could oppose it, are England, France, Prussia, and Austria. Now, as to Austria, it will be very easy for Russia to engage her assistance by giving her Servia, and other provinces bordering on the Austrian dominions. The only hypothesis that France and England may ever be allied with sincerity will be in order to prevent this. But even this alliance will not avail. France, England, and Prussia, united, cannot prevent it; Russia and Austria can at any time effect it.”

In the month of June, 1844, the Czar Nicholas of Russia visited the court of Queen Victoria. He was received in a blaze of splendor at Windsor Castle. All the honor which the court of St. James could confer was lavished upon him. It was subsequently made known to the world, through the memorandum of the Russian minister, Count Nesselrode, that the object of the czar in this imperial visit was to induce England to lend her countenance and co-operation in dividing the conquered territory between them. It was indeed a princely estate which it was proposed thus to seize. Turkey in Europe covers a territory twice as large as the Island of Great Britain, and embraces a population of fourteen millions, only three millions of whom are Mohammedans.

The following, according to Count Nesselrode, was the proposition which the czar made to the British cabinet: Russia was to incorporate into her dominions the three splendid Danubian provinces of Moldavia, Wallachia, and Bulgaria. This would give her the entire command of the mouths of the Danube. The czar was also to be permitted to establish nominally a Greek power in Roumania, but under Russian protection, with Constantinople as its capital. This was, of course, surrendering Constantinople to Russia.

Austria was to receive her share in the division, the fertile and beautiful provinces of Servia and Bosnia. These provinces, situated on the south side of the Danube, adjoined the Austrian possessions, and presented a territory of great fertility, which enjoyed the lovely clime of Italy. The provinces embraced over forty thousand square miles, being a little larger than the State of Kentucky, and contained about two million inhabitants. Austria was also to be permitted to extend her southern frontier so as to embrace nearly the whole of the eastern shore of the Adriatic sea.

The lovely island of Cyprus, the gem of the Eastern Mediterranean, a hundred and forty-six miles long and sixty miles broad, was to be transferred to England. With this island as a naval depot, England was also to take possession of the whole of Egypt. This would give her the command of the canal between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea, and would greatly facilitate her intercourse with India.

And why did not England and Austria embrace this magnificent and perfectly feasible plan? That there was no moral principle to restrain them from any measure of national aggrandizement, the past history of the two kingdoms amply proves.

And, moreover, what claim, it might be asked, can the Turk show to his European possessions? He crossed the Hellespont a blood-stained robber. With dripping cimeter he hewed his path through the quivering nerves of the vanquished Christians. Smouldering ruins and gory corpses marked every step of his progress. Why, then, did not England and Austria consent to this division of European Turkey? It was because this arrangement would make Russia so powerful, that she would be the undisputed monarch of the Eastern World. The balance of power in Europe would be destroyed, and Russia would attain a supremacy before which all other European powers would tremble.

And yet nothing in the future seems more certain than that Russia will advance to Constantinople. The late Crimean war did but postpone the event for a few years. On this side of the Atlantic, where questions of European balances of power disturb us not, the popular sympathies are almost unanimously in favor of Russia. There would be no mourning here should the crescent fall, and should the Greek cross be raised over the dome of St. Sophia, and over all the fortresses which frown along the heights of the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles.

Such is the general aspect of the “Eastern Question.” In all the diplomacy which now agitates Europe, this question invariably comes up as one of the most essential elements. There are many rumors that a secret understanding now exists between Russia and Prussia, by which Russia consents that Prussia shall organize an immense German empire in the heart of Europe, which shall overshadow the surrounding monarchies; and Prussia, in return, is to support Russia in her march to Constantinople. If this be the fact, Russia and Germany henceforth hold Europe in their grasp. All the other monarchies will be virtually tributary to these two gigantic powers. Russia enthroned at Constantinople, and Prussia, the head of imperial Germany, occupying the whole valley of the Rhine, from the sea to the Alps, can bid defiance to Europe in arms. France is now powerless. Prussia is acting in co-operation with Russia. England, without the aid of France, can accomplish but little. Any alliance between England and democratic France is impossible. The British Government has even more to fear from democracy across the channel than from Russia on the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles.

The last phase of this all-exciting and ever-changing question is, that England, Russia, and Prussia, enter into a virtual alliance; that Prussia be permitted to work her will upon France, now prostrate before her; that Russia be permitted to do as she pleases with the Ottoman Empire, and that England seize upon the Suez Canal, thus appropriating to herself this new and magnificent avenue of East Indian commerce, which France devised, engineered, and constructed. To this arrangement, France, without a government, without an army, impoverished, exhausted, bleeding, can present no opposition.

Continue reading: E. O. HAMMOND