g, that could
wield such a power from such a distance! that, across a continent it
took four years to traverse, could compel such obedience; could by a
word or a nod bring proud Princes with rage and rebellion in their
hearts to his court--not to be honored and enriched, but degraded and
insulted; then in shame to turn back with their _boyars_ and
retinues,--if indeed they were permitted to go back at all,--one-half
of whom would perish from exhaustion by the way. What was the secret
of such a power? Even with all the modern appliances for conveying the
will of a sovereign to-day, with railroads to carry his messengers and
telegraph wires to convey his will, would it be conceivable to exert
such an authority?

And--listen to the language of a proud Russian Prince at the Court of
the Great Khan: "Lord--all-powerful Tsar, if I have done aught against
you, I come hither to receive life or death. I am ready for either.
Do with me as God inspires you." Or still another: "My Lord and
master, by thy mercy hold I my principality--with no title but thy
protection and investiture--thy _yarlik_; while my uncle claims it not
by your favor but by right!" It was such pleading as this that
succeeded; so it is easy to see how Princes at last vied with each
other in being abject. In this particular case the presumptuous uncle
was ordered to lead his victorious nephew's horse by the bridle, on his
way to his coronation at Moscow. So the path to success was through
the dust, and it was the wily Princes of Moscow that most patiently
traveled that road with important results to Russia.

Novgorod, as we have said, had alone escaped from these degradations.
Her Prince Alexander was son of Yaroslaf, the Grand Prince who perished
in the desert on his way home. At the time of the invasion Alexander
was leading an army against the Swedes and the Livonian Knights in
defense of his Baltic provinces. It was Latin Christianity _versus_
Greek, and by a great victory upon the banks of the Neva he earned
undying fame and the surname of _Nevski_. Alexander Nevski is
remembered as the hero of the Neva and of the North; yet even he was
finally compelled to grovel at the feet of the barbarians. Novgorod
alone had stood erect, had paid no tribute and offered no homage to the
Khan. At last, when its destruction was at hand, thirty-six years
after the invasion, Nevski had the heroism to submit to the inevitable.
He advised a surrender. It needed