The Czar : $b A tale of the time of the first NapoleonAlcock, Deborah
History
The Czar : $b A tale of the time of the first Napoleon
Alcock, Deborah
Historical fiction; Russia -- History -- Alexander I, 1801-1825 -- Fiction
Amongst the works of faith and love which in all ages have been
inspired by the precepts and the example of “the forgiving Christ,” the
labours of Alexander on behalf of his perishing enemies undoubtedly
deserve a place. It is good for the world to keep such deeds in
remembrance, although to those who do them the world’s remembrance may
avail but little. It was not the motive that inspired, nor will it be
the reward that crowns them.
A few years later, at Cherson in the Crimea, Alexander stood beside
the grave of a philanthropist whose character and work he held in
genuine veneration--John Howard, the prisoners’ friend. With his own
hand he designed a monument to mark the resting-place of Christ’s
honoured servant, choosing for its sole inscription those words of
Christ himself--“I was sick, and you visited me; I was in prison, and
you came unto me.” “Where the kings of the nations lie in glory, every
one in his own house,” the Czar Alexander Paulovitch has his stately
sleeping-place; and well might it bear the same inscription. No human
hand has placed it there; but we doubt not Divine lips will one day
utter the commendation, “Inasmuch as you have done it unto one of the
least of these, you have done it unto Me.”
CHAPTER XXIV.
ONE YEAR AFTERWARDS.
“War is mercy, glory, fame,
Fought in Freedom’s holy cause,
Freedom such as man may claim
Under God’s restraining laws.”
WORDSWORTH.
Between opening month of 1813 and that of the following year a great
change swept over Europe. Men of Teutonic race, true-hearted sons
of their dear Fatherland, look back upon that era with honourable
pride. They talk with enthusiasm of “the war of liberation,” telling
gratefully beside their hearths, or by the vine-clad banks of their
glorious “German Rhine,” how prince and peasant armed for the fight,
and flung from them the intolerable yoke of the foreign oppressor.
Körner’s patriotic lyrics thrilled every heart, and many another
tuneful voice, then and since, has chanted the pæan of Germany’s
deliverance,--
“How the crowned eagle spread again
His pinion to the sun;
And the strong land shook off its chain,
So was the triumph won.”
But there are other heroes besides the pre-Homeric of whom it may be
said,--
“They had no bard, and died.”
In that memorable battle fought long ago in the valley of Elah, we are
told how the men of Israel arose with a great shout, and rushing upon
their Philistine oppressors, chased them with tremendous slaughter to
the very gates of their own fastnesses. It was a glorious victory; but
it would scarcely have been won at all if the Hebrew champion had not
first slain Goliath “in the name of the Lord of Hosts, the God of the
armies of Israel.” In like manner the battle of the deliverance of
Europe was really fought and won upon the frozen plains of Russia.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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