“I have brought the Tsarevitch a present, sir, and I bring it out with much hesitation, for it is a very simple one, and I know he must have had many beautiful and costly gifts this Christmas.”
“Not at all,” he said; “we bring him up very simply, and he loves puzzles. He and I used up all we could get, especially those jig-saw puzzles, while he was ill. These, I see, are new.”
“I hope,” I said, “that he is now better?”
“Yes,” he said, “he is; he’s quite well now—quite well,” he repeated with emphasis.
The Emperor speaks English perfectly, fluently, and with ease, and I have been told that it is the language most generally, if not always, used in the ordinary daily life of the imperial family.
I have taken up some time in giving these personal impressions, but I think it is quite worth while to do so just now as the Emperor was so particularly gracious and kind, and thus enabled me to form some idea of what he is, just as a man and a father in his own home; and that I know will appeal to my own countrymen when wondering what is likely to be his policy and aim as a ruler of a vast empire.
A man can only do what he is, whether he be in the highest or the lowest positions in the world; and he always brings out, sooner or later, what he is at heart. It must therefore be a very great source of confidence to us all just now, when we believe that the providence of God has brought the British and the Russian Empires together, not for temporary, but for enduring objects, to know, as I feel we may consider that we do know, that the Emperor of all the Russias is a man we can all respect and trust, precisely as we respect and trust our own Sovereign—as one whose ideals are those of domestic duty and family life on the one hand, and the real interests and well-being of the labouring and toiling millions of his people on the other.
A somewhat scandalous book was written last year which I won’t mention by name, lest curiosity should lead those who have not read it to do so, which gave a most unfavourable impression of the Emperor and the imperial family. It was not, however, written by an Englishman; and, without questioning in any way the writer’s bona fides, I am bound to say, and very confidently and energetically, that I have never yet met one of my own countrymen who has had to do with the Emperor of Russia, financially, diplomatically, or in audience, who has not expressed himself to me about him in the same appreciative terms as I have here used myself.
Take, for instance, what Sir Donald Mackenzie Wallace has written only a few months ago.[8] “The antiquated idea that Tsars are always heartless tyrants who devote much of their time in sending troublesome subjects to Siberia, is now happily pretty well exploded, but the average Englishman is still reluctant to admit that an avowedly autocratic government may be, in certain circumstances, a useful institution. There is no doubt, however, that in the gigantic work of raising Russia to her present level of civilization, the Tsars have played a most important part. As for the present Tsar, he has followed, in a humane spirit, the best traditions of his ancestors. Any one who has had opportunities of studying closely his character and aims, and who knows the difficulties with which he has had to contend, can hardly fail to regard him with sympathy and admiration. Among the qualities which would commend him to Englishmen are his scrupulous honesty and genuine truthfulness. Of these—were I not restrained by fear of committing a breach of confidence—I might give some interesting illustrations.
“As a ruler, Nicholas II habitually takes a keen, sympathetic interest in the material and moral progress of his country; and is ever ready to listen attentively and patiently to those who are presumably competent to offer sound advice on the subject. At the same time he is very prudent in action; and this happy combination of zeal and caution, which distinguishes him from his too impetuous countrymen, has been signally displayed in recent years. During the revolutionary agitation which followed close on the disastrous Japanese War, when the impetuous would-be reformers wished to overturn the whole existing fabric of administration, and the timid counsellors recommended vigorous retrograde measures, he wisely steered a middle course, which has resulted in the creation of a moderate form of parliamentary institutions.”