"But," objected one of the counsellors, "to allow discontented persons to remain unmolested will make them dangerous to the State."
"Undoubtedly," replied Mikail, "unless we remove the cause of their discontent."
"Remove the cause?" interrupted Drentell, surprised. "To remove the cause would mean to grant them liberty of action, to grant them a constitutional government, to acquiesce in the thousand reforms they demand."
"Let us not disguise from ourselves the fact that the people are entitled to all they ask," said Mikail, quietly; "that the inhabitants of other countries enjoy these rights and more, too, and that they only ask for what is the prerogative of every human being—liberty and happiness. But," continued he, emphasizing the little word; "while other nations may prosper under such a rule, Russia would not. Her people are not ready to enjoy the rights they demand. They would look into the full glare of the mid-day sun before having accustomed their eyes to candle-light. When I spoke of removing the cause, I did not mean to abolish the cause of their discontent, but to obviate the necessity of sending people into exile."
The assembly, which had at first been appalled by the priest's unpatriotic sentiments, now breathed more freely.
"How would you accomplish your purpose?" asked the Governor.
"By directing the attention of the masses to something which will for the time divert their minds from their present projects."
"It has been tried," replied the Governor. "We have begun quarrels with all the countries surrounding us without accomplishing our object."
"Naturally enough. A war with Turkey or with Bulgaria is of very little interest to those living far from the scene of conflict. Beyond taking a few soldiers out of the country such quarrels are productive of no good. There must be some strong excitement in which every one can take a part and feel a personal interest, and then Nihilism will decline."
"What do you propose?" asked the Governor, whose curiosity was now thoroughly aroused.