THE LATE DOWAGER EMPRESS OF RUSSIA.

New Zealander, Volume XVII, Issue 1551, 27 February 1861, Page 5

THE LATE DOWAGER EMPRESS OF RUSSIA.

She was not old in the number of her years. She had only entered her sixty-third summer four months ago. To the eye, and to ordinary appearance, the late Empress of Russia possessed all that the most boundless ambition could desire. She shared the throne of one of the most powerful of European monarchs. She was herself, in her youth, a lady of surpassing beauty, and her husband, then the Grand Duke Nicholas, afterwards the Cesarwitch, was one of the hondsomest men of his time for manly beauty and soldierly solidity of figure. For a time the Empress enjoyed all the blessings of happiness incident to the marriage state, and the union of the illustrious couple was blessed with a numerous progeny; but as years rolled on the health of the illustrious lady failed, and at the period w’hen her husband ascended the throne the Empress’s health was fragile, and her nerves were completely shattered by the events of 1825. That was a trying year both for the Emperor and Empress, Nicholas was unexpectedly called to a new sphere and to higher duties. With no guide but his own uncontrolled will, his temper, always impetuous, now became headstrong, and brooked no domestic control. The Prussian princess to whose beauty and grace he paid in early life a willing homage, and who gave up in espousing him her country and her creed, now, in her languid and pallid beauty, failed to command his affections, and the monarch sought relaxation and distraction beyond his once happy home. Soldier Emperors in the force and vigour of their age, with realms to command, are not certainly to be judged as ordinary men. There was not a brilliant beauty of St. Petersburg!!, of Moscow, of Kieff, of Revel, or of Nishni-Novgorod, who did not desire to attract the attention and admiration of his Imperial and Royal Majesty; nay, more, there was scarcely a German, French, or Italian beauty within the dominions of the Emperor who would not have felt proud of his notice. Under these circumstances it is not wonderlul that Nicholas, in the vigour of health and strength, was led as a child, and that the man whose frown or displeasure was the making or undoing of his male subjects was bound and led captive in silken cords tied by female fingers. This was one of the sources of the unhappiness of his consort, and it led to that nervous irritation which produced, first functional derangement, and ultimately ended in loss of health, strength, and life. Of late years, too, the Empress had to suffer from those ungovernable gusts of passion to which her Imperial husband was subject, and which affected the empire as well as the Empress. Sometimes, from some hidden and mysterious cause, sometimes without any assignable cause whatever, sometimes from private sorrows, and sometimes from public griefs, the Emperor gave full vent to his ungovernable humour, and then neither friend nor favourite, nor minister, nor consort, dare approach him. This was a fact well known in court society; and its influence on the Empress, as on any other feeble and fragile nature, was most disastrous. Her nerves became completely unstrung, and her health wholly gave way. Yet in the last illness of her consort the Empress watched over his couch with fond and unswerving devotedness, and never left his side till his spirit had fled from its earthly abode. For this effort beyond her strength the good and amiable wife has paid the heaviest penalty. She never recovered elasticity or tone; and though more genial climates have been tried, and the faculty in every country have been consulted, it has been unavailing. The present Emperor has been more than a devoted son to his mother. Everything that could administer to her comfort has been sought for from far and near, and the ingenuity and skill of the most renowned physicians in every capital in Europe have been tasked to the utmost to alleviate the progress of disease and to dispel the gloom of the sick chamber. All these efforts have been vain and unavailing. Sorrow' and mortal sickness and poignant and deep-seated affliction are beyond the reach of the physician’s or surgeon’s art. Princes or empresses are not exempt from that rust of the soul (as Johnson calls sorrow) which corrodes and consumes, and wears away life imperceptibly and noiselessly. The deceased Empress exercised considerable influence over her son and family. In her political opinions she was eminently Conservative, and leaned to those high prerogative doctrines which had more vogue in the generation which in youth she adorned by her stately grace and cold statuesque beauty.— Morning Post.

Old Woman and the Sailor. —A worthy old woman was one day walking along the street with a bowl in her hand. A jovial sailor, rendered mischievous by liquor, came bearing down, and when opposite the old woman, saucily pushed her aside, and with a past knocked the bowl out of her band. He then baited to hear her fret and enjoy a laugh at her expense. Bat what was his astonishment when she meekly picked up the pieces of her broken bowl without the least resentment in her manner; then giving him a dignified look of mingled sorrow, kindness, and pity, said : “ God forgive you, my son, as I do.” It touched a tender cord iu the heart of the rude tar. He felt ashamed, condemned, and repentant. The tear started in his eye !be mast make reparation. He hesrtly confessed bis error, and thrusting both bis hands into his full pockets of change, he forced all their contents upon her, exclaiming, “ God bless you, kind mother, I’ll never do so again."

RELIGION—WHAT IS IT? Is it to go to church to-day, To look devout and seem to pray, And ere the morrow’s sun goes down Be dealing slander through the town? Does every sanctimonious face Denote the certain reign of grace? Does not a phiz that scolds at sin Oft veil hypocrisy within? Is it to make our daily walk, And of our own good deeds to talk, Yet often practice secret crime And thus mis-spend our precious time? Is it for sect or creed to fight. To call our zeal the rule of right, When what we wish is at the best, To see our church excel the rest? Is it to wear the Christian’s dress, And love to all mankind profess, And treat with scorn the humble poor, And bar against them every door? Oh, no, Religion means not this; Its fmit more sweet and fairer is— Its precept is, to others do As you would have them do to you.. It grieves to hear all ill report, And scorns with human woes to sport— Of others’ deeds it speaks no ill, But tells of good, or keeps it still. And docs religion this impart? Then may its influence fill my heart; Oh! haste that blissful, joyful day, When all the earth may own its sway. Bishop Hebeb.