Dialogues of the Dead | Page 4

situation.
Peter.--It was an act of more heroism than any ever done by Alexander
or Caesar. Nor would I consent to exchange my glory with theirs. They
both did great things; but they were at the head of great nations, far
superior in valour and military skill to those with whom they contended.
I was the king of an ignorant, undisciplined, barbarous people. My
enemies were at first so superior to my subjects that ten thousand of
them could beat a hundred thousand Russians. They had formidable
navies; I had not a ship. The King of Sweden was a prince of the most
intrepid courage, assisted by generals of consummate knowledge in war,
and served by soldiers so disciplined that they were become the
admiration and terror of Europe. Yet I vanquished these soldiers; I
drove that prince to take refuge in Turkey; I won battles at sea as well
as land; I new- created my people; I gave them arts, science, policy; I
enabled them to keep all the powers of the North in awe and
dependence, to give kings to Poland, to check and intimidate the
Ottoman emperors, to mix with great weight in the affairs of all Europe.
What other man has ever done such wonders as these? Read all the
records of ancient and modern times, and find, if you can, one fit to be
put in comparison with me!
Louis.--Your glory would indeed have been supreme and unequalled if,
in civilising your subjects, you had reformed the brutality of your own
manners and the barbarous vices of your nature. But, alas! the legislator
and reformer of the Muscovites was drunken and cruel.

Peter.--My drunkenness I confess; nor will I plead, to excuse it, the
example of Alexander. It inflamed the tempers of both, which were by
nature too fiery, into furious passions of anger, and produced actions of
which our reason, when sober, was ashamed. But the cruelty you
upbraid me with may in some degree be excused, as necessary to the
work I had to perform. Fear of punishment was in the hearts of my
barbarous subjects the only principle of obedience. To make them
respect the royal authority I was obliged to arm it with all the terrors of
rage. You had a more pliant people to govern--a people whose minds
could be ruled, like a fine-managed horse, with an easy and gentle rein.
The fear of shame did more with them than the fear of the knout could
do with the Russians. The humanity of your character and the ferocity
of mine were equally suitable to the nations over which we reigned.
But what excuse can you find for the cruel violence you employed
against your Protestant subjects? They desired nothing but to live under
the protection of laws you yourself had confirmed; and they repaid that
protection by the most hearty zeal for your service. Yet these did you
force, by the most inhuman severities, either to quit the religion in
which they were bred, and which their consciences still retained, or to
leave their native land, and endure all the woes of a perpetual exile. If
the rules of policy could not hinder you from thus depopulating your
kingdom, and transferring to foreign countries its manufactures and
commerce, I am surprised that your heart itself did not stop you. It
makes one shudder to think that such orders should be sent from the
most polished court in Europe, as the most savage Tartars could hardly
have executed without remorse and compassion.
Louis.--It was not my heart, but my religion, that dictated these
severities. My confessor told me they alone would atone for all my
sins.
Peter.--Had I believed in my patriarch as you believed in your priest, I
should not have been the great monarch that I was. But I mean not to
detract from the merit of a prince whose memory is dear to his subjects.
They are proud of having obeyed you, which is certainly the highest
praise to a king. My people also date their glory from the era of my
reign. But there is this capital distinction between us. The pomp and

pageantry of state were necessary to your greatness; I was great in
myself, great in the energy and powers of my mind, great in the
superiority and sovereignty of my soul over all other men.

DIALOGUE III.
PLATO--FENELON.
Plato.--Welcome to Elysium, O thou, the most pure, the most gentle,
the most refined disciple of philosophy that the world in modern times
has produced! Sage Fenelon, welcome!--I need not name myself to you.
Our souls by sympathy must know one another.
Fenelon.--I know you to be Plato, the most amiable of all the disciples
of Socrates, and the philosopher of all antiquity whom I most desired