ons, and forgot their promises of liberal institutions as soon
as they were again firmly seated on their thrones. This was naturally
for many a bitter deception. The young generation, excluded from all
share in political life and gagged by the stringent police supervision,
sought to realise its political aspirations by means of secret
societies, resembling more or less the Masonic brotherhoods. There were
the Burschenschaften in Germany; the Union, and the "Aide toi et le ciel
t'aidera," in France; the Order of the Hammer in Spain; the Carbonari in
Italy; and the Hetairai in Greece. In Russia the young nobles followed
the prevailing fashion. Secret societies were formed, and in December,
1825, an attempt was made to raise a military insurrection in St.
Petersburg, for the purpose of deposing the Imperial family and
proclaiming a republic; but the attempt failed, and the vague Utopian
dreams of the romantic would-be reformers were swept away by grape-shot.

This "December catastrophe," still vividly remembered, was for the
society of St. Petersburg like the giving way of the floor in a crowded
ball-room. But a moment before, all had been animated, careless, and
happy; now consternation was depicted on every face. The salons, that
but yesterday had been ringing with lively discussions on morals,
aesthetics, politics, and theology, were now silent and deserted. Many
of those who had been wont to lead the causeries had been removed to the
cells of the fortress, and those who had not been arrested trembled for
themselves or their friends; for nearly all had of late dabbled more
or less in the theory and practice of revolution. The announcement
that five of the conspirators had been condemned to the gallows and
the others sentenced to transportation did not tend to calm the
consternation. Society was like a discomfited child, who, amidst the
delight and excitement of letting off fireworks, has had its fingers
severely burnt.

The sentimental, wavering Alexander I. had been succeeded by his stern,
energetic brother Nicholas, and the command went forth that there should
be no more fireworks, no more dilettante philosophising or political
aspirations. There was, however, little need for such an order. Society
had been, for the moment at least, effectually cured of all tendencies
to political dreaming. It had discovered, to its astonishment and
dismay, that these new ideas, which were to bring temporal salvation to
humanity, and