The poisonous seed bore fatal fruit. Ivan, then but thirty years of age, seemed to lose all faith in mankind. He surrounded himself with sycophants and parasites, and plunged anew into the wild excesses of his youth; he pursued his former friends with relentless cruelty, arraigned and condemned Adaschef and Sylvester for treason. His tyranny grew with its indulgence; every one became an object of suspicion; prisons were filled with victims; blood ran like water; no head was too high, no character too pure, for attack. The natural ferocity of his disposition broke through all restraints, and he seemed to be possessed by a wild, insane fury to torture, slay, and destroy; yet, with strange inconsistency, making profession of earnest devotion all the while, constantly humbling himself before the altar, and, cleansed of past enormities, going forth with fresh thirst for blood.
Anastasius succeeded Macarius, but, terrified at the atrocities committed by the tsar, and at his impatience of all remonstrance, he soon retired to a monastery.
Ivan, apprehensive of the possible consequences of his cruelty and oppression, removed with his court to Alexandrov; his people, in consternation at his departure from Moscow, implored him to return, and he yielded to their solicitations only upon condition of absolute submission to his will. This they promised, and their obedience never faltered through a long reign distinguished in all history for its unspeakable horrors.
"He who blasphemes his Maker will meet with forgiveness among men, but he who reviles the Tsar will surely lose his head," is a Russian saying, and loyalty was a principle of religion ingrained in the Russian soul. A nobleman impaled by Ivan, for some trivial offence, while languishing in agony, constantly repeated, "Great God, protect the Tsar!" "Neither tortures nor dishon-
