England has really become rather Russian. The weather is cold enough as far as that goes, but I am chiefly referring to politics. A foreigner returning to this country almost every year is struck with the gradual development of certain views and tendencies which is taking place in these late years. It is a revolutionary development, but in the direction of autocracy. It needs more courage than I possess to declare whether England is right or wrong in so doing. That is one of the numerous questions which every country has to decide for itself. Besides, no form of government is absolutely bad, or absolutely good—wherever mortals have to act they are liable to mistakes; they are also inclined sometimes to do their best. Has not a clever writer said?—

For forms of government let fools contest,

Whate’er is best administered—is best.

I am, therefore, far from blaming. I humbly express some few reflections which occur to an observant stranger. Your autocracy is not less real because it is veiled by parliamentary codicils. The most complete form of despotism in Europe is that of united Germany. Go to Berlin if you want to understand what it is to breathe—nay, to have the very circulation of your blood fired—by authority. Government is in the air; it permeates existence; individuality is absorbed in the great machine—it is an unblessed Nirvana. Of course, the English is not like the German autocracy. In this country a most incomprehensible power is given to newspapers; now who says “newspaper” says “the street.” In Germany the croaking of the frog in the pond at Varzin is, I dare say, more listened to than the outcry of “public opinion.” Here it is quite the reverse. Germany, as well as England, has its apostles of dynamite; and in both countries the nervousness concerning that sore subject is daily increasing, and it is quite right that it should increase. Innocent victims of monstrous cruelty have been numerous enough to sober foolish politicians, and make them appeal to common sense and justice. It was not long ago, however, that supreme disdain was displayed whenever Russian dynamitards were discussed. We Russians were dogmatically advised to listen to the voice of such men as Krapotkin and Stepniak. “Only tyranny,” exclaimed some uninvited judges, “could breed Nihilism.” “Repression of ideas is the only cause of that admirable protest,” solemnly declared others. Solemnity sometimes makes people smile, and we often had good reason for being amused. But now you almost all talk and write like sensible Russians. The moral efficacy of dynamite must really be great. It has not secured Home Rule, but it has converted Englishmen to Russian views on the subject of murder and assassination. Krapotkin, were he not happily in gaol in the free Republic of France, would hardly now be accepted with open arms, even by Mr. Cowen or Mr. Morley—at least, so I suppose. Yet you have had no great explosions; all your dynamite outrages, have they killed one man? They have but been so many fireworks compared with our explosions, or even with those the Anarchists planned in Germany at the Niederwald. But, empty though they were, they have worked a real miracle. One could hardly read without laughing the outburst of outraged indignation in the speeches of the Common Councilmen about the attempt to blow down London Bridge. Why, one of the speakers actually denounced the United States for “harbouring a vile gang of desperadoes who planned outrages upon the life and property of the people of a friendly State”! Was it not too ludicrous? Where was Hartmann sheltered and Krapotkin lionized, and Stepniak accepted as a great authority, all the while they plotted murder against us in Russia? “America,” the indignant councillor went on to say, “ought to surrender these miscreants as the enemies of the human race.” Surely that is true enough, but when will England realize the necessity of ceasing to be the paradise of assassins? There are some indications in the air which induce us to think that she may soon recognize the usefulness of an extradition treaty with Russia from mere grounds of self-defence. Better late than never!

Nor is the drift to autocracy the only Russian tendency visible here. Another change in our direction has manifested itself in the course of last year. English aristocracy is gradually losing its artificial prerogatives—just as was the case with ours—and will probably only maintain as much power as it really deserves to have. The Russian nobility have almost always had the moral leadership in every great national crisis. In 1612 one of our first nobles, Prince Pojarsky, united his efforts with those of a representative of the inferior classes—the butcher Minine—and, thanks to that union and their admirable energy, Russia was delivered from foreign invasion. A few years ago, when our “Czar Liberator” determined to emancipate all our serfs, the nobles—the proprietors of the serfs—were most eager to help the Government in those efforts, though, of course, in some parts of Russia the material losses sustained by the higher class were very great indeed. In England, the House of Lords tried to assert their right to resist the Democratic movement, but the moment your autocrat spoke and found an echo in the country the aristocracy capitulated at discretion. I am told that Lord Salisbury won a great victory for his side by his skill. Perhaps; but that victory has not the appearance of a conquest. Somehow, it reminds one of a man doomed to the gibbet, but being courteously allowed to adjust his rope. Titles will remain as they remain with us; the nobles will probably keep all their status; but the power, the prestige, the political authority is vanishing daily.

Theoretically, England’s policy in Ireland is Russian. It would be more successful if our system were adopted practically. A few years ago English Liberals used to say that if the Nihilists blew up railway trains in Russia the one specific was the grant of a Constitution. Nowadays, when an Invincible stabs a Minister, instead of granting a new Constitution, they suspend the old one. I dare say you are right now, but you certainly were wrong before, only will you not have to go further? It will not do to try to keep up a semblance of parliamentary government with the reality of arbitrary power. The mere presence of Irish members does not seem to strengthen English government; on the contrary, they paralyze it, and, at the same time, they are anything but conciliated themselves. English remedial legislation does not seem so much of a success either. Instead of frankly copying the Russian law, and converting all the Irish peasants into landowners, England nibbled here and nibbled there, and compromised her principles without attaining her object. How is one to cross a pond without wetting one’s feet? One has to accept boldly, a la Russe, all the consequences of one’s theories.

Holloway’s Hotel, Dover-street, Jan, 13, 1885.

O.K