I.

The other day I met an eminent representative of the Roman Church, whose name is familiar to all, not only in the West, but also in the East. “Is there actually a real power, a real superiority in that potentate?” I asked myself; “or is he a giant merely because the others are pigmies?” My curiosity and my cautious scepticism had been roused long ago, and I was impatient to verify the brilliant descriptions I had received from different parts. The desired meeting took place at last, and I was pleasantly surprised by finding that imagination had not too much outstripped reality. The prelate I saw before me was indeed no commonplace, no ordinary man. I was struck with the acuteness of his remarks, with the inquisitorial way in which he put his questions, as if grasping the quintessence of every fact, however insignificant. There was life in his look, but there was also a heartless contempt in his mouth, which seemed to have little in common with Christian love and compassion. “Ignatius Loyola must have had looks of that sort,” I thought, involuntarily; but nevertheless I felt attracted by the earnestness and simplicity of his tone and manners, which must fascinate many.

Our conversation turned upon the Serbian crisis and the shameless treatment to which the Archbishop Michael had been subjected.

“It is very strange,” observed I, “that the English, who are so keenly interested in every struggle, seem perfectly indifferent about a matter that to the Serbian Orthodox Church is a question of life and death.”

“No, it is not strange at all,” answered he, with a slight contraction of his sarcastic lips; “it is only natural, because they have no conception of the Church. The moment they realize that idea, they go to Rome.”

The supreme audacity of an assertion which ignored, as if absolutely non-existent, the whole Greek Orthodox world, would have silenced me, even if I had been in a mood to question the arrogant claims of the Vatican. But there is undoubtedly a great deal of truth in the fact he pointed out, and not being able to convert my interlocutor, I preferred listening.

The Roman prelate recognized at a glance the importance of the whole question. I hardly needed to explain to him that in creating a schism in the Serbian Church, Austria simply wanted to make political profit out of ecclesiastical discord.

“The present Serbian Ministry,” added’ I, “belongs to Austria heart and soul; these pseudo-Liberals sacrifice the unity of their country in reorganizing the Church and depriving it of its authority.”

“Austria would never dream of doing such a thing within her own borders—at least not in dealing with the Catholic Church,” he observed, with pride. “But what has your Emperor decided in this matter?” asked he.

“His Majesty has no power over the Church,” replied I. “It is for the Patriarch of Constantinople and the other Patriarchs, as well as the Synods, to decide.”

“Then he has much less control over the Church than our Queen,” remarked the prelate. “She can not only interfere in any part of the Church organization, she can even make new dogmas.”

This last assertion, coming from so learned an authority, and from a man who himself has had the very best means of knowing the truth, seemed to me very striking. I did not know that Henry VIII. had bequeathed his theological prerogatives to all his successors. However, this explains why it is so difficult for the English people to appreciate the importance that the Orthodox world attaches to the independence and the Apostolic character of the Church. The whole of our conception of the relations between Church and State differs from yours. To us, Greek Orthodox, the authority within the Church rests absolutely in the hands of the Church. Your Parliament can alter the services, change the liturgies, and remodel the theology of the Anglican Church. It has done so once, and apparently it may do so again. With us the very idea of such a thing is impossible. The Apostolic Orthodox Church recognizes no right on the part of our autocratic emperors, or not less autocratic majorities, to alter the articles of her faith, as defined by the seven Ecumenical Councils. The power of our emperor, though absolute in many things, does not extend to questions of Church order and discipline. The Orthodox Church, while very careful “to render unto Caesar’s the things which are Caesar’s” does not forget to insist as jealously on the converse of the injunction. Sometimes, no doubt, evilly disposed rulers have attempted to abuse their authority, and have persecuted the servants of the Church, but they have not made her apostatize from her faith in the necessity of self-government, and in her independence of the control and interference of the State.

The supreme interest of the Serbian crisis arises from the fact that at Belgrade there is now being fought out between Archbishop Michael—as the representative of spiritual independence, and Austria, through the Serbian Ministry, the representative of the usurping tyranny of the State—one phase of the secular struggle between the spiritual and the temporal power, between the Church and the State, between the representatives and custodians of the Christian faith, and the selfish and intriguing politicians who wish to subordinate Christianity itself to the exigencies of Caesar.

In discussing the matter with Englishmen, I find it difficult, almost impossible, to make them understand our standpoint. “The supremacy of the State,” most of them say, “is a fundamental doctrine of Western civilization.” And I may add, it is also accepted in the East, but with limitations. The State within its own sphere is supreme, but its sphere is not universal. The State has no dominion over conscience. It has no right to alter historic fact, scientific truth, or religious dogma. That these matters are beyond its province even Englishmen admit. But we also insist that it has no right to interfere in the internal organization of the Church: and this I know is not the English belief, except among some of the High Churchmen, one of whose professors is reaping the reward of his convictions in Lancaster gaol. The Nonconformists, with their ideal of a Free Church in a Free State, have less difficulty in understanding our position, but they have but little patience with a State Church which wishes to preserve itself free from the interference of the State. Tu l’as voulu George Dandin! they say; for with them it is almost an article of faith, that the Churches which accept State patronage and endowment, there and then deserve any treatment, no matter how unjust and iniquitous, which the State may give them.

But our State Church is not like the English, for in all Orthodox lands the State is much more the creation of the Church than the Church the instrument of the State. Religion cannot be imposed by force, and the great Athanasius declared it “a characteristic of religion not to force but to persuade.” But one scarcely needs to quote authorities upon truths which have already become truisms. When the Church forgets her real duties and the limits of her power, or, rather, when her servants occasionally imitate the policy of Rome (which is permanent there), she herself suffers for her mistakes, as Professor Vladimir Solovieff admirably described in Mr. Aksakoff’s “Russ.” This noble and courageous article on “Spiritual Authority,” has made a great sensation, not only in Moscow, but also in the remotest parts of Russia.¹

The relation between Church and State has been often compared to the relation between soul and body. It was only when the real union was lost, that concordats or contracts were introduced in the West. The moment there is a juridical contract one generally sees a desire to avoid or evade it either on one part or the other. The juridical law has no control over spiritual life. This is one of the arguments amongst Orthodox people against the civil marriage.

An attempt is now made in Serbia by the civil power to usurp authority at the cost of the independence and self-government of the Church. In itself the matter in dispute may seem, to superficial observers, quite unimportant. It turns upon the question whether the State has or has not a right to use the organization of the Church as a means of collecting taxes levied upon the exercise of its spiritual offices. Prince Milan and his ministers (that is to say, Austria) say that such an exercise of authority is within the right of the State. Archbishop Michael asserts that the State has no right to levy taxes on the exercise of spiritual functions. The Serbian Government replies by roughly deposing him, and appointing a creature of its own in his stead. Should the decision of the Ministry be finally confirmed by the Skupstina, and the Church be reconstituted, with the sin of simony as one of its attributes, then the newly-organized Church, instead of being, as before, an indissoluble part of the Eastern Church, will be separated from all the others, and a schism be thus artificially created.

II.

Before venturing to state the details of the politico-ecclesiastical crisis in Serbia, let me mention briefly one consideration which governs the situation in those lands. Until the other day, at all events down to the conclusion of the Berlin Treaty, Serbia was regarded as a Russian protégée, and denounced by our enemies as Russia’s tool. Protégée she was; tool she was not. The ties that bound Serbia to Russia were not formed yesterday. From the earliest dawn of Serbian independence, from the first beginnings of the Serbian struggle for liberty, we were their first, their only helper. When at the European Congress, held not at Berlin, but at Vienna, in 1814, the deputies from Serbia implored European diplomacy to have pity on their hard fate, and secure them some release from Turkish oppression, they were scornfully told to go to Russia, and look to her for help. They obeyed the direction, given almost ironically; but they did not look to us in vain. Serbia was then a pashalik of the Ottoman Empire, where for three hundred years the helpless Christian peasants had cowered in the dust before their oppressors.²

Serbia to-day is a free and independent principality. The transformation is Russia’s work. At each successive stage in the blood-stained path from servitude to freedom, Serbia found ready sympathy and active help from Russia. Others may have wished her well, but their wishes never took any material shape. Even a Platonic sympathy she did not always find in England. For Serbian liberty Russia spent her treasure, and poured out the blood of her bravest sons. As it was in the beginning, so was it in the crowning achievement of Serbian independence. It was the Russian volunteers who nerved the Serbian militia to check for months the advance of the flower of the Ottoman soldiery. It was the Russian ultimatum which arrested the Turkish legions when Djunis fell, and the road lay open to Belgrade; and it was the Russian campaign in Bulgaria which finally emancipated the Serbian principality. As a Russian I might boast of this, but I merely record facts. It was our duty, and we did it. And why was it our duty, or what was it that constrained Russians to exert themselves as no other nation in Europe would have done for a little country such as Serbia? Everyone who knows anything of the real forces which govern the East will answer at once: It was because the Serbians were Slavs, as we are—and Greek Orthodox, as we are.

Of late years the conception of the Slavonic nationality spread rapidly; but the root idea was not nationality, but religion. It is a fact which has to be admitted. Russians fought and died, and conquered for the Serbians, just as Englishmen would fight for brother Englishmen in India or South Africa. To talk in sonorous words about Christianity is very often nothing but cant, but there is no hypocrisy when faith is attested by death. You may believe what you please of the Machiavellian and skilful policy of Russian diplomatists. We cannot share your admiration; but, if you obstinately shut your eyes to the deep, genuine sense of Christian fraternity throughout all the Orthodox East, you ignore the central fact of the situation. Your efforts to understand the historical development of the East will then be about as successful as if you were to formulate a theory of the steam engine which ignored the existence of steam.

Yes, in the East the conception of a kingdom, not worldly but divine, not temporal but eternal, not based on geographical accidents but on religious faith, still illumines the hearts and consciences of mankind; the sense of brotherhood is not extinguished amongst us. The faith which roused Europe, at the time of the Crusades, is extinct in the West, but still survives in the East. It manifests itself with intense power at every opportunity. It is because of this strong and binding religious unity between Russia, Serbia, and all Orthodox peoples, that the deposition of the Archbishop Michael excites such intense feeling throughout Russia. So vital and sensitive is that unity, that a touch at one point is felt through the whole body. The Rev. W. Denton, in his excellent book on “Serbia and the Serbians,” written as long ago as 1862, brings out very clearly the reality of Christian unity in the Eastern Church. He says:—

“In no part of Christendom are the obligations of brotherhood so felt and acted upon as throughout the Christian Church. The bond of union which connects all who are in communion with the Patriarchal See of Constantinople is stronger than in any other part of the Church. Such brotherhood does not depend upon race, for the Slavonic Pole has always been as hostile to the Slavonic Russ as, to say the least, the Englishman to the Frenchman. It arises solely from the possession of a common creed. The sympathy between the members of the Eastern Church is so real that wars of any duration between people belonging to this branch of the Church have scarcely or never arisen. This sympathy is independent of political intrigues. The cabdriver of St. Petersburg feels for our brother in Montenegro without the intervention of Government, and without reference to secular politics. This sympathy, however, is necessarily impressed upon the actions of the Russian Government, and a fact often determines its actions. The bloody wars arising out of the rivalry of со-members of the Western Church, such as that between England and France, had their origin in the times before our Reformation, and have never arisen between со-members of the Eastern Church. Nor so long as the tie of religious sympathy is so strong as at present between the various nations in communion with the See of Constantinople are they possible.”

It is because this unity is true and real that the trouble has arisen. Serbia, Slavonic and Orthodox, is united to Russia by ties which not even Austrian exhortations can destroy. But if Serbia were severed from the Orthodox Church—if a schism could be created by which the sense of fraternal unity would be destroyed, then indeed Austrian policy would have secured a triumph which would be full of sinister consequences to the Serbian race.

III.

What is Austria? She is the very negation of every principle of nationality and unity. How can she be guided by an ideal, religious or otherwise,³ when all her thinking and feeling faculties are in constant struggle and opposition? If there has ever been a bad neighbourhood, it is that of Austria to Serbia. From that material contiguity arises a material dependence, both political and economical. Whatever else might be lacking to secure Austrian influence in Serbia, was supplied by the Treaty of Berlin—that “thrice-cursed Treaty,” as Aksakoff says in his graphic and unparliamentary way. As on some palimpsest you may still decipher the glorious poetry of Homer, although overwritten by the prose of some mediaeval scribbler, so traces of the Treaty of San Stephano are visible beneath most of the clauses of the shameful patch-work drawn up at Berlin.

But of the clauses giving Austria dominance in Serbia there is no trace in the original San Stephano Treaty, which was spoilt by the diplomatic “wisdom” of entire Europe. By the Berlin Treaty, which sanctioned the Austrian occupation of Bosnia, Serbia became almost an Austrian enclave. Nor was that all. The clauses giving Austria the right to make railways through Serbia secured her domination even more effectually. England then, under the Beaconsfield Ministry, pointed to Salonica, and even further, as the natural goal of Austrian ambition. Serbia was looked upon but as a stepping-stone to the Ægean. Russia, exhausted with her exertions, and demoralized by her concessions, partially withdrew from the arena. Serbia, in short, is being Austrianized, and the deposition of Archbishop Michael is one step in the process. A step of that sort is fatal. How the Serbian Ministry fail to understand the importance of their mistake is quite incomprehensible! It is sheer blindness. Austria is not particular. Whether it is to create a schism or blockade a mountain, she looks solely to results. Serbia, on the contrary, does not foresee the logical results she is preparing for herself in a very near future. I am not indulging in any polemic against Austria. I only recall some few facts, which people seem to forget. I do not say she is going to Salonica; friends of mine in official circles, qui sont payés pour le savoir, say she is not. Though Count Karolyi’s letter to Mr. Gladstone has never been allowed to be published, from the published reply of Mr. Gladstone we all know that the “Hands-off” pledges have not been retracted. That reply has been reprinted in the second volume of Mr. Gladstone’s “Political Speeches in Scotland,” and forms, as it were, the bonne bouche of this interesting work.

One likes to admit what is written in black or white, but how are we to account for the numerous correspondences from the Western Balkans, full of evidence that the Austrian advance is to take place without delay? Who is deceived after all, I wonder?

The unfortunate provinces of Bosnia and Herzegovina, which first rose for their independence, and which were to be occupied and administered by Austria, are now practically annexed. Here is a little specimen of Austrian good faith and honesty. Austria has no right, no legal power, to levy the conscription in provinces she was sent to pacify. She is levying the conscription notwithstanding. She has not restored order (how could she?), nor has she made peace; this, again, was not in her power. But she has achieved another great result, which few people ever expected. She has even made the Turks regretted. Yet people should not be surprised. General Chrzanowski, a Pole and a Catholic, speaking of the Austrian occupation of Roumania in 1855, said, “The Austrians are brutal and impatient, always bringing the people to the brink of insurrection.”

Compare General Chrzanowski’s account with the descriptions which Mr. Arthur Evans sends home to-day of the state of things in Bosnia and Herzegovina, and there is a remarkable resemblance.⁴

Nevertheless, many Englishmen, who went into raptures when the Tedeschi were turned out of Italy, see no reason for objecting to the permanent establishment of the Tedeschi among the population of another peninsula, which loves them just as little as did the Italians. For proof of this I need only point to the war Austria is now waging to compel the Bocchese and the Crivoscians to submit to a conscription which is illegal and unjustifiable, and to the insurrectionary agitation which prevails throughout the whole of the “pacified” provinces.

IV.

When Serbia was emancipated by Russia’s sword, simple people said that the little principality would be virtually a Russian province. It was not our aim at all to “make Serbia a Russian province;” besides, we knew perfectly well how true the saying was, that in politics there is no gratitude. Russia, who in 1848 saved Austria from complete ruin, could not have forgotten the way in which her foolish generosity had been rewarded, and the cynical laughter which accompanied the exclamation of Metternich: “L’Autriche étonnera le monde par son ingratitude.” We may pardon the harm done by people incapable of doing good, but we do not forget that harm—we ought not to forget it. The ingratitude of Prince Milan and his Minister has shocked even The Daily Telegraph. The first use they have made of the liberty which Russia gave them was directed against the Russians. The excuse given is, that “Austria is near, Russia is far off,” and that the former could close her markets to Serbian exports. But even in submitting to Austrian influence, Serbia might have preserved some of her independence, and she ought not to have allowed her overbearing neighbour to interfere in the regulations of her Church. Even the humblest are bound to defend their spiritual life, the atmosphere of their soul. History shows us noble examples of great, unflinching characters, resisting every threat, every persecution. English people feel little interest in the Orthodox Church, but they appreciate the Serbian market. At Vienna, English competition and Russian Orthodox “intrigues” are regarded as the two worst enemies. Indeed, there is even more said about English intrigues” against the Austrian commercial treaty, and the Austrian State railways, than there is against Russians “Panslavism,” which is supposed to be so great a danger to the whole world, Old and New. In the eyes of the Austrian speculators, Russians and English are alike enemies to be excluded, as far as possible, from the principality, and, of course, also from every region which falls beneath the shadow of the Hapsburg. Already, in the Danube Navigation Commission, Englishmen find which Power is the real aspirant for predominance; nor, perhaps, would the Government of Vienna-Pesth have any objection to insist upon asserting itself in Egypt.

Russia, to the Serbians, stands as a liberator and benefactor; Austria, as the persistent foe of their emancipation, and their persecutor. From Russia they have nothing to fear, and if they have little to hope it is simply because Russia has already realized for them almost all they have dreamed. Austria, on the other hand, threatens them with annihilation or mediatization. Yet, fascinated by their danger, they surrender themselves heedlessly to the Austrian grasp. The poor Serbians are not wiser than moths flying to the fire, and always coming nearer and nearer. If Austria, however, can cajole or coerce Prince Milan and his creatures to sacrifice the independence which Russia gave them, that is their business, but they should not expect Russians to applaud their suicide. The surest way of giving a death-blow to Slavonic lands is to attack the Orthodox Church. Austria has understood it from the very beginning.

I well remember what a painful shock I experienced when an Austrian friend of mine, in a moment of inadvertence and light-heartedness, said: “As for Bosnia and Herzegovina, we soon can settle that trouble. Surely it is easy to send there some clever Jesuits to bring them to reason.” That was said in the early days of the occupation; and since then the Government of Vienna has not failed to send plenty of its “Black Dragoons” to the unfortunate provinces. The Pope, too, has established there his hierarchy, which, though deserving much blame, cannot be accused of apathy. In Serbia the Roman Catholic propaganda had small chance of success. Even Prince Milan would have resented the establishment of a papal archbishop in Belgrade. But if they could not force the gate of the fortress, they might make their entrance by a mine, and that is precisely what they have done. The history of the Serbian people is the history of the Serbian Church. The national hero of Serbia was the Archbishop Sava. In the dark centuries during which the Turkish marauder exercised sole authority in the unhappy land, it was the Church which alone kept alive in the minds of the Serbians the consciousness of their nationality and their aspiration for independence. At her altars, as at a quenchless fire, generation after generation of Serbian patriots kindled the flame of a death-defying patriotism which at last, with Russia’s assistance, achieved the liberation of the country. We understood their struggles, their sufferings; we sympathized with their faith in better days.

More than a hundred years ago, as Miss Irby mentions in her “Slavonic Lands of Turkey,” “the Turks laid hands on a Serbian patriarch, carried him off to Broussa, and had him hanged.” He was but one amongst many who suffered and died for the Serbian cause. But the improved position of the country, instead of strengthening the position of the Church, has exposed the latter to a very serious danger. There is still some hope that the general feeling of the country will protest against the abuses of a Government which, as is often the case with constitutional governments, does not at all represent the spiritual life of the Serbians. Miss Irby, who has lived so many years in the East, and studied the question so carefully on the spot, says:—“Though both the Patriarch of Carlovic and the Patriarch of Constantinople claim the rank of head of the Serbian Church, yet in the eyes of the Serbs themselves that position is held by the virtually independent Archbishop of Belgrade, who bears the title of ‘Metropolitan of all Serbia.’”⁵

The present, or—alas that I should have to say!—the late rightful metropolitan is the Archbishop Michael, a Serbian patriot of the first rank, and a prelate of unimpeachable orthodoxy, who has been deposed and driven from his episcopal see, solely because he refused to sacrifice the independence of the Church at the bidding of the State.

Like all Eastern Churches, that of Serbia is independent in its relation to the State and to its sister Churches. The Roman idea of the supremacy of a central patriarchate is alien to the conception of Church order which prevails in the East. In Russia we have an autocracy as the central power of the State; but, as far as the Church is concerned, we are much less autocratic than the West. The organization of the Church is simple. When a vacancy occurs in any of the Serbian sees, the parochial clergy and the archimandrites of the diocese elect a successor to the late bishop, and their choice is approved as a matter of course by the Government. In the Anglican Church, I am told, the process is exactly the reverse—the Government selects, and the Church as a matter of course approves.

Archbishop Michael was Bishop of Schabatz when, in 1859, he was elected Archbishop of Belgrade. He was then in the early prime of life; and the Rev. W. Denton, in his “Serbia and the Serbians,” represents him as a man apparently about five-and-forty years of age, with a countenance of great gentleness and intelligence. “His manners are very refined and agreeable, and his whole deportment is one of dignity, befitting his position as ruler of the Serbian Church. I have rarely,” he adds, “been so impressed by any one in a short visit. The Archbishop was even then (in 1862) deeply interested in the Anglican Church, and fervently expressed a hope of the restoration of unity between the separated Churches of Christendom.”

In the twenty-three years of his reign at Belgrade the Archbishop had very pressing matters to deal with. Between 1859 and 1881 Serbia passed through more than one crisis, and on every occasion she improved her position and made progress towards independence. Princes, dynasties were changed, but the Metropolitan remained. More than any other man he incarnates the recent history of his country. He was the chief actor in many eventful scenes; and that Prince Milan, who would hardly have occupied the throne without his help, should have treated him so shamefully, is almost inconceivable, even to those who are only too familiar with the depths of Serbian ingratitude. The offence of the Metropolitan was that he had too much honesty, too much foresight, too much intelligence, to be a tool of Austria. His removal became thus necessary both to the cabinet of Vienna and to that of Prince Milan.

The law which imposed a tax upon the offices of the Church was passed at the demand of M. Miatovitch, the Prime Minister. No one, for instance, was to be allowed to take vows as a monk without paying 100 francs, and when he became a Iéromonach he must pay another 150 francs. This measure not only was an usurpation on the part of the State, but it struck a deadly blow at the purity and efficiency of the Church. I had better let the Metropolitan explain why he objected to the law, which was ruthlessly enforced upon him, in order to oblige him to give up the position he had filled so nobly and so long.

The moment the Archbishop Michael saw the new law in the official Gazette, he wrote a long and earnest remonstrance to the Minister, calling attention to the unconstitutional character of the law, and the utter impossibility of the Church’s submitting to such a monstrous edict. The Metropolitan showed that the mistake could be easily repaired, as the Skupchtina was at that time holding its sittings, and competent to correct the blunder.

“Having received the Srbske Novine, No. 19”—so the Metropolitan writes— “and the paragraphs referring to priesthood, consistory, and archbishops, I am as much astonished by its appearance as by the illegality, carelessness, and culpable contradiction to the spirit of the Holy Church and its laws. It is illegal of the Minister to carry to the Skupchtina a law referring to the priesthood, without having asked the advice and consent of the Metropolitan and the Episcopal Council.”

He then explained the fundamental laws relating to the Church and State in all Orthodox (Pravoslav) lands:—

“In all well-conditioned States, and everywhere in the East, attention is paid to the limits, accurately marked out, up to which the State authorities may act independently, and beyond which the State has no right to lay down any law for the Church: the Church has its own laws, which the State has no right to change. If it were to be accepted that the State, disdaining the authorities of the Church, might arbitrarily issue such and similar laws, then naturally would ensue consequences which would create a gulf between Church and State—a gulf in which would perish the regular development and security of them both; then would result a series of hostilities, of struggles and mistrust—the illegal domination of the one and the impotence of the other. Because, unless the State finds a preliminary accord upon the laws which have to be introduced, and which, like that now under discussion, must in the highest degree tell upon the Church, then the Church sets herself free from the obligation to come to an agreement with the State concerning the execution of the functions imposed upon her by Apostolic and Ecumenical decrees. Acting thus, the State meddles in the internal constitution of the Church, and destroys that which the Church is bound to preserve through all the storms of temporal and political change—that which, if she had yielded to every passing invasion, she would now have ceased to exist; she would no longer be the Ecumenical, Apostolic Church, but some sort of new Church, put together by reforms of various origin, established to-day, annulled to-morrow.”

Having thus explained to the Ministry the absolute necessity of consulting the servants of the Church on such matters, the Metropolitan Michael shows the lack of logic in the law itself:—

“How can the State,” he asks, “tax orders which it has no power to grant, and when it does not maintain those who take them? If anyone had the right to impose a tax on an office of the Church, then it would be the Church which bestows them, and certainly not the State. But neither has the Church the right to do it, because such a tax would be equivalent to the sin of simony—that is, the selling of blessed gifts of God—a deed strictly prohibited by the Church.”

To show further the absurdity of the law, not only in principle, but also in practice, the Metropolitan points out the amount of the proposed taxes:—“The monk (or Monach) has to pay 100 francs; the Iéromonah, 150 francs; thus, one individual combining these two functions is to pay 250 francs.

After this, he shows the impossibility of taking taxes from those consecrated to be priests, because the ordained are almost always very poor people, on whom fall many preliminary expenses; for instance, their maintenance for six weeks after ordination in the diocesan town, the acquisition of indispensable Church appurtenances, which, according to the Serbian custom, each one who is ordained has to purchase for himself. But the tax on those who become monks, and those who are ordained to be priests, is not sufficient for the Serbian ministers: they have imposed a tax of 100 francs even on the blessing of the bishop. “Are the poor to be deprived of that which is obtained by means of the blessing of the bishop, and which thus will become only the privilege of the rich?”

The Metropolitan goes on to explain the immoral results which a measure of that sort must naturally occasion, and which, however, are so self-evident, that I need not repeat them.

Here are his concluding words:—

“Having carefully studied this law of taxation, we are forced to testify, that the persons who made it are not acquainted with the principles of the Pravoslav Church; that they are not led by a true Christian heart, and that reverence which we are all bound to have towards the Church in which we are born, brought up, and educated, and to which we now belong. The Serbian priesthood has not deserved to be thus dealt with, for they have always served the national weal. We cannot conceive that the authority of the State can go in a direction which humiliates the Church and extinguishes respect for the rules of a constitution which has existed for centuries. Perhaps the cause of these grievous manifestations lies in the realistic tendency, which in many places maintains the upper hand, and in the latter time has notably penetrated our lower classes. This materialistic tendency will not be allowed to go to extremes if there remains a strong control in the upper classes, but without this it is most dangerous.”

Referring to this paragraph of the Code, the Metropolitan patriot entreats the Minister to find fitting means to remedy the injustice done to the peace and tranquillity of the Church and clergy.

But the Minister did not, or would not, understand the importance of the lesson, and remained deaf to the prayer of the Metropolitan. Although the Skupchtina was holding its sittings, and was sanctioning treaties with Austria (most injurious to Serbia), he did not submit to their deliberations any proposal for the modification of the Anti-Orthodox law. He put off answering the Metropolitan until July 21, wishing, I suppose, to learn how Austria desired him to act in this matter. At last, the Minister made the tardy and absurd reply, that the proposed taxes did not interfere in the affairs of the Church. He evidently did not wish to understand the Metropolitan’s views. He twice referred to the offensive tone used by the chief representative of the Serbian Church. Now, who were these two men? One, a newly made official; the other, a venerable prelate, who, with honour and dignity, had stood at the head of the Serbian Church for twenty-three years, and was now compelled by circumstances to prove himself versed in statesmanship.

The Metropolitan, having to send a representative to the Serbian monastery in Moscow, consecrated him to the rank of Igumìn, but did not compel him to pay the taxes imposed by the law, which he had positively repudiated, as “repulsive to the spirit of the Church, and contrary to the fundamental laws of the realm.” The Minister, to punish the Metropolitan for his disobedience, inflicted on him a fine of 1,800 francs, thus fixing a sum six times greater than the tax (300 francs) which was written down for the office of Igumìn. This iniquitous decision of the Minister was dated the 19th of September. It does not appear from the published documents whether this decree was carried out. When, in the middle of September, the Episcopal Council—consisting of the Metropolitans of Nisch, Negotine, Ushitza, and Schabatz—assembled at Belgrade, under the presidency of the Serbian Metropolitan Michael, the latter submitted the law of the new taxes to their judgment.

Here is the exact translation of their protocol, issued on the 24th of September:—

“The Episcopal Council, solicitous, as is its bounden duty, to preserve Orthodoxy intact, having enforced the canons with the laws about the taxes, declares that this law, in the points which decree a payment for the blessing of the bishop and for holy orders, which are obtained by the grace of the Holy Ghost, is contrary to the canons of the Holy Orthodox Church, and therefore the Episcopal Council desires that this law should be amended so as not to run counter to the sacred canons which we are bound to maintain uninjured. So likewise, the Council considers it to be incongruous that this law should have been issued without preliminary understanding with the Episcopal Council.”

The Metropolitan Michael, laying before the Ministry this resolution on the 10th of October, with the signatures, be it observed, of all the bishops, enclosed an epistle explaining that decision as an answer to the letter of M. Novakovitch, the Minister of Instruction and Church Works, dated the 21st of July. In it he showed that the tone of his own epistle, which so deeply affronted the Minister, did not in the least differ from the way in which the former Serbian hierarchs carried on their correspondence with the secular authorities:—

“Since the time that, with God’s help, we ascended the Episcopal throne, we always, with all our soul, served the interest of the Holy Church, the princely reigning House, and the Orthodox Serbian people; and in all circumstances we hastened to meet half-way the wishes of the Government, when the latter were submitted to us according to law.”

Explaining further, that his opinion concerning the taxation of the clergy, and the intermeddling in the internal constitution of the Church, remains the same, he concludes his letter with the following words:—“The Government, in the protocol of the decision of the Council in the question of the taxes, will see that the Serbian bishops have not the power to accept the new law, which was constituted without the agreement of the Episcopal Council.”

The Serbian Ministry, irritated at those outspoken condemnations of its high-handed and lawless acts, published groundless accusations against Russian “interference.” The “Austro-Cabinet Party,” as a correspondent of the Times so aptly calls the present Miatovitch Ministry, proceeded to further violence, and set up a creature of their own.

The Serbian hierarchy hastened to draw up a collective protest against this outrage. The installation of Moses, and Michael’s banishment to a monastery, was the ministerial answer to that protest. Frightened by so cruel and despotic a policy of the Government, the bishops, one after the other, except the Bishop of Schabatz, yielded to force; but they all insisted upon the condition that their recognition of Moses should be void if he were not confirmed in his powers by the Patriarch of Constantinople. Spiritual jurisdiction is entrusted only to spiritual hands.

To the Patriarchs of Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, Jerusalem, the representatives of the Holy Synod of Russia, and the Metropolitans of Greece, Roumania, and Montenegro, the Archbishop Michael has made his appeal. Until they have decided against him, he remains the only lawful Archbishop of the Serbian Church.

But unless the Skupchtina displays more patriotism than Prince Milan, the Serbian Church will be endangered, and Serbia will become the avant-garde of the Hapsburg on the Balkan peninsula. From such a fate she may still be saved by the energetic action of her Church and people, and the whole Slavonic world waits with anxiety the result of this trial.

V.

On the monument erected at Kryevatz, near Alexinats, by Serbian patriots, to the Russian volunteers who perished, are engraved the words: “Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” This monument, in the erection of which Michael had taken the most prominent part, was one of the few material indications of the innumerable moral links which bind the hearts of the greatest to those of the least Slavonic peoples. Not in vain is the Morava valley rich with the grass-grown graves of the unforgotten dead; not in vain fell the rich rain of Russian blood upon the Serbian soil.

“There is a narrow ridge in the grave-yard

Would scarce stay a child in his race;

But to me and my thoughts it is wider

Than the star-sown deep of space.”

Yes, some memories shine as the stars in the firmament, to light generation after generation to the fulfilment of the glorious destinies of the Slavonic world.

Ministers may betray their trust, princes may sell themselves to the enemy of their race, but the sympathy between Russians and Serbians can no more be affected by passing misunderstandings or bad faith of administrations, than the light of the sun can be extinguished by the passing thunder-cloud.

When the news reached Moscow that the venerable Metropolitan of the Serbian Church had been deposed, the sensation was profound. But when it was known that he was deposed because he would not allow simony to pass current in the Serbian Church, because he would not allow the civil power to “levy a tax on the gifts of the Holy Ghost,” indignation became strong indeed. What was our Minister at Belgrade doing to raise no protest against so scandalous an outrage? How could that personification of sleep and apathy represent ardent, thrilling Russia? On St. Michael’s Day, a mass for the Metropolitan Michael was celebrated in the Church of the Serb convent in Moscow. In an eloquent discourse, the Bishop of Moscow spoke as follows:—

“Hard indeed was the condition of Pravoslav Christians under the Turkish yoke; but it is now harder still. Amid the Turkish persecutions, in the face of an open enemy, the Christians of the Balkan Peninsula preserved a complete spiritual unity, which rendered vain all efforts to break up their nationality by means of rude physical force. At the present moment the Serbian Church, in the person of its representative the Metropolitan Michael, is engaged in combat with a more dangerous enemy, with Roman Catholicism, which, by an influence brought to bear (through Austria), aims at the subjugation of the Pravoslav East to its spiritual sovereignty. In former times the Patriarch Hermogene and the Metropolitan Philip, in combat with secular authority, sealed with their blood their devotion to the Pravoslav faith. Now, in our day, the Metropolitan Michael is to be compelled to give his assent to a practice which was not resorted to even in Pagan times—to the new law which imposes taxes and duties on all who assume the monastic habit, or who are raised to any spiritual dignity whatever. This wrong the more painfully affects us because it is being wrought in those very lands where the standard of Christianity was first planted by Constantine the Great.

“It is clear to us that the Metropolitan Michael cannot recognize this new law, which affronts the dignity and fetters the internal liberty of the Pravoslav Church. The example of courage shown by the Metropolitan may serve as a consolation, for all in these times of general licence and moral weakness.”

These words of the Bishop made a deep impression. A telegram of sympathy was sent to the Metropolitan, signed by all present, by the Bishop Ambrosius, Archbishop Jacob, several archimandrites—those of Jerusalem, Alexandria and Antioch—the representative of the Patriarch of Constantinople, M. Aksakoff, and the members of the Slavonic Committee.

VI.

Before I conclude this brief and imperfect sketch I must make one or two explanations.

In speaking of Austria-Hungary, I put aside all diplomatic circumlocutions. As a simple Slav, I am simply pleading the rights of the Slavs; and if these rights are endangered by Austria-Hungary, my plea naturally becomes polemical. But if the Cabinet of Vienna-Pesth would but have kept their “hands off’’ the liberties and the religion of the Serbs and Southern Slavs, this article would never have been written. Unfortunately, Austria-Hungary, by her geographical position, can control the Serbian export trade; and, by her commercial treaties, she can make use of the principality, for the benefit of her Jewish speculators, to almost any extent. But because she can control the Serbian market, that is no reason why she should interfere with the independence of the Serbian Church.

As I once had occasion to remark, I have no antipathy to Austrians, because “Austrians” do not exist; and of the innumerable nationalities which make up the mosaic of the Empire-Kingdom, the most numerous are Slavs. They are so numerous even that they can afford to spare recruits to the enemy. Kossuth, whose hostility to the Slavonic cause is almost a monomania, is himself a Slovak. The tendency of the time is in favour of the Slavonic races, within Austria as well as without. It was an Austrian Slav who made that poetic prophecy, which scandalized so deeply the West: “The Germans have reached their day, the English their mid-day, the French their afternoon, the Italians their evening, the Spaniards their night, but the Slavs stand on the threshold of the morning.”

M. Emile de Laveleye, in one of his brilliant contributions to the Revue des deux Mondes, indulges in a dream of Austria-Hungary transformed into a monarchical and Slavonic Switzerland. “There are sixteen millions of Slavs within her borders,” he says, “and eight millions in European Turkey, while there are only five million Germans, and eight million Magyars. Austria-Hungary, having lost her centre of gravity, will settle east and southward, and from the Saxon mountains to the Ægean will arise a Federation of the Danube, in which, of course, the Slavs will be the dominant power.” “That is the only hope of Austria,” says M. de Laveleye, her most intelligent advocate in the West. After decomposition and recomposition the new Austria may be better than the present. But whatever may arise from the ashes, is not Austria-Hungary already in its funeral pyre? My opinion, being too partial, has of course no weight; but what does M. Kossuth say, what does Mgr. Strossmayer say, what does M. de Laveleye himself say? M. Kossuth, although a Slovak, declared four years ago that “the razor was put to the throat of Austria and also of Hungary, when the Vienna Cabinet followed” the “infernal” policy “of seizing Bosnia and Herzegovina.” Bishop Strossmayer is a statesman devoted to Austria. “The decisive hour,” he said in 1879, “approaches for Austria, and God knows that I would give my life at this moment to save her. But in these supreme hours do her rulers understand their position? If they consent to favour the national development of Bosnia, all the East will turn towards us. If, on the contrary, we attempt to denationalize them, to the profit of the Germans and the Magyars, we shall speedily be more detested than the Turks, and Austria will inevitably march to her doom.” Those who read the correspondence of such trustworthy observers as Mr. Fitzgerald, Mr. Arthur Evans, and Mr. Stillman, need not be told how exactly one part of Bishop Strossmayer’s prophecy has been fulfilled. M. de Laveleye himself says, “If Austria combats the legitimate aspirations of the Slav populations; she will commit suicide.” These are the words of her admirer and eulogist.

But before concluding, I must quote a remarkable despatch of a distinguished statesman, who has been so useful to his adopted country—viz., Count Beust, the former Chancellor of the Empire. In the year 1867 he urged Austria to encourage a wide development of the privileges of the Christian populations of the Balkans, who should be put under the protectorate of the whole of Europe, and endowed, under guarantees from all the Courts, with independent institutions, in accordance with their various religions and races.”

If that policy were pursued there would be no crisis to-day in Serbia, and no cause for very serious uneasiness and forebodings.

O.K.

1. See also on this point Dr. Overbeck’s excellent work “On the Claims of the Greek Orthodox Church” and his Orthodox Catholic Review. Trübner & Co.
2. What that oppression was people are too apt to forget. Distance lends enchantment to the view, and many people in England are, no doubt, inclined to believe that Serbia under Turkish rule was quite as happy as, say Poland, under Russian despotism. But Serbia did not exactly flourish under Turkish rule, whereas Poland is the most flourishing part of Russia.

   The Pall Mall Gazette of the 30th of December, 1881, says:—“The report of Consul-General Maude, at Warsaw, on the trade and commerce of the Kingdom of Poland for the year 1879, contains striking testimony to the reality of Polish prosperity. Although the harvest of that year was the worst that had been known for thirty years, the farm labourers were declared to be ‘in a position of security and comparative contentment.’ The rate of wages was rising throughout the country, and the value of land has been steadily rising for the last three years. New industries were being introduced, and the population of the capital was increasing at the rate of 20,000 per annum. Mr. Maude concludes his report by noting the ‘remarkable fact that, notwithstanding the bad harvest and the fluctuations in the value of money, there was not a single case of mercantile failure during the whole year 1879’ in the Kingdom of Poland. Very remarkable confirmation of this testimony is afforded by a recent letter of the Warsaw correspondent of the Journal de Genève. The writer, who is apparently a Pole, and who is certainly a vehement anti-Russian, declares that, despite all the obstacles of a repressive system of government, Poland, or, more correctly, the Grand Duchy of Warsaw, has attained such a flourishing state that it is now a force with which Russia will have to count. Various causes have contributed to Polish prosperity. Among others he mentions the enormous material advantages accruing to Poland from the late war, the increased tariff on imports which has fostered Polish manufactures, the great development of her industrial resources, and the abandonment of all political agitation. Whatever may be the cause, he declares the country has now become the ‘Belgium of Russia;’ and Warsaw, daily becoming more opulent, is now one of the most important cities in Europe. Nor is it Warsaw alone that flourishes. Everywhere throughout the ancient kingdom manufactures and industrial enterprises of all kinds multiply and prosper. Journalism, that sure index of popular intelligence, numbers in the Grand Duchy fourteen daily, four illustrated, and three comic papers, to say nothing of eleven weekly and twenty-six monthly and bi-monthly reviews. Much as the Poles chafe against the Russian system of administration, the correspondent in question declares there is no wish on their part to throw in their lot with either of their neighbours. Pozen is eaten up by the Germans. Galicia is perishing of an economic anaemia. In Russian Poland alone the Poles preserve their nationality and their prosperity.”

3. But if she has no faith, Austria has a full share of intolerance, or English newspapers would not have published the following statement:—“The Council of the Evangelical Alliance is directing attention to the utter absence of anything worthy of the name of religious liberty in Austria at the present time. For instance, at a place near Prague, a few people calling themselves the ‘Old Reformed Church,’ have been forbidden to admit to their family worship any individual who is not strictly a member of the family. The police have forced their way into their houses, and have ordered even the servants out of the room whilst family prayers lasted. The Attorney-General at Prague, in connection with the case, boldly and publicly maintains that it is not even lawful to say grace at meals if any stranger is present. Last autumn the adherents of the ‘New Church’ at Vienna, who have had public worship for ten years, were forbidden to hold any meetings at all; and another Protestant community in the city received orders not to admit strangers (non-members) to their services. It is most anomalous that Austria should be guilty of these acts of intolerance within her Empire, while she has been, in conjunction with England and the other Great Powers, demanding the establishment of religious liberty in Servia, Roumania, Bulgaria, &c.”
4. But Austria, after all, changes very little. The “Austria” of Shakespeare has quite a family resemblance to the Austria-Hungary to-day. I wonder how often the justice of Constance’s reproaches have been recognized since “King John” was written:—

   Con. O, Austria! thou dost shame

   That bloody spoil: thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward!

   Thou little valiant, great in villainy!

   Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!

   Thou Fortune’s champion, that dost never fight

   But when her humorous ladyship is by

   To teach thee safety! Thou art perjur’d too, 

   And sooth’st up greatness. What a fool art thou,

   A ramping fool, to brag and stamp and swear 

   Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave,

   Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side,

   Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend

   Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength?

5. “Slavonic Provinces of Turkey,” 3rd edition, 1877, vol. ii. p. 22.