Even to-day there is a sinister sound in the very name of Russian.  Men turn to look twice at one who comes from that stupendous empire.  It is said that an hereditary melancholy broods beneath the weightiest earthly crown.  History tells that none wearing it has ever reached a hale old age.  Soldiers still hearty, still wearing the sword they have carried through half a dozen campaigns, bow to-day in the Winter Palace before their sovereign, having taken the oath of allegiance to four successive Czars.

Half in, half out of Europe, Alexander II. awoke with his own hand the great nation still wrapped in the sleep of the Middle Ages, only to find that he had stirred a slumbering power whose movements were soon to prove beyond control.  He poured out education like water upon the surface of a vast field full of hidden seed, which must inevitably spring up wheat or tares—­a bountiful harvest of good or a terrific growth of evil.  He made reading and writing compulsory to the whole of his people.  With a stroke of the pen he threw aside the last prop to despotic rule.  Yet he hoped to continue Czar of All the Russias.  This tall, pale, gentle, determined man was a man of courage.  When the time came he faced the consequence of his own temerity with an unflinching eye.

“What do you want of me?” he asked, the very moment after he had been saved almost by a miracle from assassination.  For he knew that he was giving more than was wise.  It is said that he was puzzled and thoughtful after each attempt upon his life.

The war with Turkey was the first sign that Russia was awakening—­that the soldiers knew how to read and write.  It was the first time in history that the nation forced a Czar to declare war, and Servia was full of Russian volunteers fighting for Christian Slavs before the Emperor realized that he must fight—­and fight alone, for no nation in Europe would help him.  He had taught Russia to read; had raised the veil of ignorance that hung between his people and the rest of civilization.  They had read of the Bulgarian atrocities, and there was no holding them.

To rule autocratically what was then the vastest empire in the world was in itself more than one brain could compass.  But in addition to his own internal troubles, Alexander II. was surrounded by European difficulties.  England, his steady, deadly enemy, despite a declaration of neutrality, was secretly helping Turkey.  Austria, as usual, the dog waiting on the threshold, was ready to side with the winner—­for a consideration.  No wonder this man was always weary.  It is said that all through his reign he received and despatched telegrams at any hour of the night.

No wonder that his heart was hardened towards Poland.  The most liberal-minded Czar had his mean point, as every man must have.  There are many great and good men who will write a check readily enough and look twice at a penny.  There are many who will give generously with one hand while grasping with the other that which is really the property of their neighbor.  Alexander’s mean point was Poland.