It was a false dawn. In 1863 came the Polish revolt and although Ukraine took no part in it as a whole and many of the Slavophile leaders were cooperating with them in their endeavors, the idea spread throughout the official circles that the Ukrainians were somehow involved in the Polish movement, an idea carefully fostered by the Poles. The result was the beginning of a far-reaching policy of repression which was to nullify many of the gains that had already been made. The Sunday Schools that had been established in Kiev and other points in Ukraine were suppressed and the various journals were compelled to suspend. Then in 1863, Count Valuyev, the Minister of the Interior, issued a statement that there never was, is not, and cannot be any separate Ukrainian or Little Russian language. He ordered the censors to prevent the publication of anything in it that had a spiritual content, textbooks or books intended for elementary instruction. This allowed only works of belles-lettres to be published and even this was a mere subterfuge, for it was not long before the censors were able to consider these too as popular books and under that clause of the order, the way was open to silence entirely the Ukrainian writers. The new literature seemed destined to be crushed in its cradle. Even though for a time in the early seventies there was a slight lessening of the restrictions, the tsar in 1876 issued a more far-reaching order which forbade the printing of Ukrainian books except in the Russian spelling, the importation of books printed abroad, and theatrical performances in Ukrainian, and even the printing of musical texts with Ukrainian words. Of course the term Little Russian was constantly used, for every mention of Ukraine was to be banned. This was a death blow to literature, and although at various times during the next thirty years before the Revolution of 1905, many of these provisions were quietly shelved, yet the Ukrainian authors in Russian Ukraine were effectively debarred from publishing their works at home. They had only one possibility left, and that was to turn to Galicia as Kulish and his friends had been doing from the end of the sixties. The situation there had also changed greatly. At the time of the Union of Brest in the sixteenth century, the Kozaks and the Brotherhoods of the various cities had fought stubbornly against the establishment of the Uniat Church, for they regarded it as a forerunner of Polonization. They feared from practical experience that the division in the Orthodox ranks would lead only to increased pressure from the government to give up their special characteristics. They were essentially correct in this idea. During the remaining centuries of independent Poland, the Ukrainians in that country lost most of their gentry and educated classes and only the parish clergy remained to plead the cause of the people.