Among the upper ranks the most ridiculous ideas concerning the war were prevalent; they were kept so entirely in the dark by all the government accounts, and by the absurd severity of the officials at the Censor’s office, who carefully erase every article that has any reference to political affairs or to Muscovite losses, that it is no wonder that their conjectures were sometimes laughable, and if related in England appear incredible. The Emperor in their eyes was a martyr, and the English his persecutors; they blamed them as the most cunning of people, nor could they conceal their spite and vexation at having been outwitted by our government. They were convinced that the union with France could not possibly last, and that the Americans would come to their rescue; that English money was the chief instigator in the whole affair; and that it was mainly the curry-favouring spirit of our people, who hastened to congratulate Louis Napoleon on his being elected Emperor, that had prevented a friendship between Russia and _la grande nation_. “Ah, quel malheur!” exclaimed one of the Czar’s aides-de-camp, “that our Emperor did not call him ‘mon frère;’ how different it would have all been!” To hear them talk, one would imagine that all the evils existing in the world are to be ascribed to British influence, which at least proves how very powerful they must deem it. It was usual to hear them affirm that the revolution in China was all our doing, and that we were trying to raise Poland against Russia; that the Indian empire was in imminent danger from their army in Asia, which they declared had been sent against Hindûstan; that we were on the point of learning a great deal from their teaching in military matters, meaning by that, that our soldiers never had so powerful an enemy to contend with as the Russians. “Deceitful England” was to receive condign punishment. “If,” said an old general, “Napoleon the Great called England ‘Perfide Albion,’ our Emperor should name her ‘Fausse Angleterre:’” a sentiment that met with universal approbation. The Greeks, according to them, were a nation of saints and martyrs, who were worthy of the utmost admiration, and the French were to be despised and pitied for being so led astray; yet, notwithstanding their pretended disdain of the latter people for their inferiority to themselves in every respect, they still had a dash of hope that they would ultimately be induced to change sides and serve the turn of Russia.