visit, and no sooner had he returned to Europe than, with the death of the chief minister at Nasrullah, the effect of the happy journey vanished, and Bokhara remained as before, utterly heedless of coming events, and continuing, as before, to weaken the neighbouring States instead of giving them strength and support against the approaching danger. Russia, at the same time, was not slow to counteract this stroke of policy by a similar approach to England's nearest neighbour, namely, Afghanistan. First of all, she began to meddle with Herat through the intermediary of the King of Persia, whom she made her involuntary ally after the treaty of Turkman-chai. The King of all Kings of Iran, a sickly man, had, together with his half-crazy minister, for a long time back cherished the idea of re-conquering the large dominions of Shah Abbas the Great. The Keyanian Cap, representing the Crown of Persia, looking shabby and worn out, was sadly wanting in new jewels. Wooden inlaid with brass were soon got ready; and Count Simonitch, the Russian ambassador, had only to stir the fire to bring the Persian army, a crowd of beggars clad in rags, before the walls of Herat. Fortunately England, aware of the imminent danger, selected the proper man to frustrate the machinations of her rival-Eldred Pottinger, an English officer of guns rare talents. One man alone was sufficient to annihilate all the grandiloquent schemes of Persia. The fire of the wooden guns had no effect; the balls hewn of marble, invented by the ingenious Persian prime minister, were smashed to pieces on the walls erected under the lead of the clever and brave Englishman. The Shah got the dysentery instead of laurels, and the half-emaciated and decimated army of the King of all Kings, together with their Russian advisers, returned to Teheran. Herat was made secure once more against the immediate attack of Russia. Whilst this was going on, a young Russian officer of Polish extraction, named Vitkovitch, had to perform at Kabul, at Dost Mohammed Khan's, the same part which Sir Alexander Burnes had so cleverly played at Bokhara. In the "Memoirs of the late General Blaramberg," a German officer in the Russian service, we read, among other interesting details regarding the Russian doings in Herat and Kabul, how Alexander von Humboldt had met with a young Polish gentleman exiled to Siberia, and how this young man, of high education and refined manners, succeeded in gaining the sympathies of the great German scholar to such an extent that he interceded in his favour with the Emperor Nicholas the First, and obtained his pardon from the Czar on the condition of the gifted young Pole's entering the Russian service and devoting his abilities to Russian interests. This young Polish gentleman was the afterwards famous Russian secret agent, M. Vitkovitch, at Kabul. A great linguist, fully versed in the way of dealing with Asiatics, and therefore a competent rival of Sir Alexander Burnes, he had to gain over the sympathies of Dost Mohammed Khan for the Court of St. Petersburg. As the last named Afghan prince failed in his endeavour to secure British assistance for the reoccupation of Peshawur, then in the hands of Rendjit Singh, he very naturally lent an eager ear to overtures coming from the rival of Great Britain. Vitkovitch was listened to with particular attention; but owing to the great distance Russian outposts then stood from Afghanistan, all that the Envoy could afford to give at that time consisted in empty promises, totally inadequate to satisfy the astute greywolf of Afghanistan. The transaction, therefore, turned out an empty bubble. Vitkovitch returned to St. Petersburg re male gesta, and being disavowed by his Government, the unfortunate young man committed suicide in the very blossom of his life. Thus are things in Russia. Successful generals and diplomatists, publicly declared to have acted against the will of the Czar, are not only acknowledged, but rewarded; whilst those who remain unsuccessful are rebuked, and have to pay the penalty of death for Russian disgrace. As to Afghanistan, the sulky attitude of Dost Mohammed Khan towards England very soon became the cause of the first Afghan war, in which England spent many thousands of lives and over £20,000,000 of money. Kabul and Kandahar were taken, but had to be evacuated; and the disastrous failure, owing not so much to the want of military valour of the British soldiers, but rather to the utter want of knowledge how to deal with Asiatics, imparted the first stain of shame to the English military character in Asia. It is exceedingly interesting to notice how all the personal valour and courage, all the heroic self-immolation, rare circumspection, and ability of single individuals, are rendered of no avail by the short-sightedness of leading politicians, of wavering statesmen, and of an irresolute Government. The news of the English defeat in Afghanistan spread all over Central Asia, and was the first deadly blow to the prestige of Great Britain in the East. The Khans, Emirs, and Begs exulted with joy over the victory of their co-religionists, the Afghans. Mohammedan barbarism thought itself again safe against the threatening attacks of our western culture, and in delusive blissfulness quite overlooked the black clouds gathering in the north |