Twenty-four years ago Mr. Froude wrote a preface to a book, entitled “Russia and England from 1876 to 1880: A Protest and an Appeal.” By “О. K.” “The object of the book,” said Mr. Froude, “is to exhibit our own conduct during the last few years as it appears in Russian eyes. If we disclaim the portrait, we shall still gain something by looking at it, and some few of us may be led to reflect that if Russia is mistaken in her judgment of England, we ourselves may be as much mistaken in our judgment of Russia.”

“О. K.” is the well-known nom de plume of Madame Olga Novikoff, née Kiréeff. It was natural that she should use the initial of her maiden name, for, as Mr. Froude said in the preface from which I have just quoted, “The Kiréeffs belong to the exceptional race of mortals who form the forlorn hope of mankind, who are perhaps too quixotic, but to whom history makes amends by consecrating their memories.” Thinking that it would be not less profitable to the British public to see themselves through Russian eyes to-day than it was in 1878, I requested Madame Novikoff to accord me the favour of an interview, a request to which she was graciously pleased to assent. So I made my way to 4, Brunswick Place, Regent’s Park, the charming little “thimble,” as Madame Novikoff describes her London residence, where she spends every winter surrounded by her pictures and her books—surely the snuggest and most comfortable “thimble” ever seen.

“Well, what do you think of us now, Madame Novikoff,” I asked, “after having had the opportunity of observing our people at close quarters during one of their periodical frenzies?”

“I am a visitor,” said Madame Novikoff, “enjoying the hospitality of your country, and it is not for me to express an opinion concerning the manners of my host. The English have always been very kind to me, and when you can say nothing that is very complimentary, it is as well that you should say nothing at all.”

“Nil nisi bonum is a good maxim, but is it all ‘Nil’ and no ‘Bonum’ on this occasion?”

“Lord Lansdowne has been very good,” she replied, “and I am very glad indeed to recognise that you have at the Foreign Office a statesman who knows his own mind, and is not flurried by the worryings of your newspapers.”

“Now that the incident is passed, could you give me the Russian point of view in a nutshell?”

“It is very simple,” said Madame Novikoff. “The Russian point of view is, perhaps, very mistaken, inasmuch as no one is a good judge in his own case, but our standpoint is this: We do not believe that we are a nation of lunatics, nor do we think that our admirals and our naval officers are either criminals or ‘mad dogs.’ That being so, we have never been able to understand how it was possible for any of your people to work themselves up into such a tremendous fury for a blunder which no one regretted so much as the Russians themselves. Humanum est errare, and Russians are not arrogant enough to think that they are exempt from the common failing of all fallible mortals. But to assume, because our blunder, not, perhaps, unnatural under the circumstances, resulted in the unfortunate death of two fisherman and the wounding of more, you were justified in calling my people all manner of bad names—well, that does not seem, to say the least, quite consistent with the sweet reasonableness which Matthew Arnold regarded as the essence of our Christian Faith.”

“Yes, but, Madame Novikoff, you forget, when British blood has flowed—”

“On the contrary,” she replied, with an angelic smile, “it is precisely because we are so well able to put ourselves in your place that we sympathise with you so much. It is not so long ago in China that Russian blood flowed almost in exactly the same proportions as it did on the Dogger Bank—that is, two men were killed and several wounded by British guns due to a blunder—but we did not call it an outrage, nor did we seize the occasion to incite our people to evil feelings against the British.”

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“Have you already forgotten,” said Madame Novikoff, “that when a mixed Russian and English force was in the field against the Boxers a very few years ago, the British troops, when in the train, mistook their Russian comrades-in-arms for Boxers and poured a volley into them, killing two and wounding several? Your Admiral, who was in command, apologised for the mistake, and we, of course, accepted his apology. We did not claim any compensation, or make any fuss as to the responsibility or culpability of the British blunder. I have given all the particulars in the Westminster Gazette of November 16th, but your Press deemed it discreet to boycott my letter. Some people, who ought to know better, say that if our Admiral had been as prompt to express his regret as your Admiral there would have been no fuss. But no man—not even as brave and distinguished an officer as Admiral Rozhdestvensky—can express his regret for a blunder before he knows that it has been committed. Your Admiral knew all about the killing of Russian sailors immediately after it happened, whereas our Admiral did not know a single British fisherman had been killed until three days later, when he arrived at Vigo, and then only through Russian and English telegrams. On November 18th one unfortunate gentleman attempted to answer my note, but his letter—I cannot call it a reply—was useful as showing how little could be said against my facts. Surely, as we bore ourselves with such composure on that occasion, it was only modesty on our part to anticipate that you would display the same composure and self-possession.”

“How does modesty come in, Madame Novikoff?”

“Surely,” said she, “it would be the height of presumption on our part to assume that we could display more magnanimity and charity than you would under such circumstances? But it is all over now, I hope, and we must begin again once more our effort to promote the entente between England and Russia which has always been the goal of our endeavours.”

“It looks very much like the labour of Sisyphus.”

“Never despair in a good cause,” said Madame Novikoff, “and, after all, you must remember that our Emperor’s initiative in calling the Hague Conference has at least provided means by which one Anglo-Russian misunderstanding is being satisfactorily cleared up. It is a hopeful augury for the future. Who knows but that some similar court or commission may lead to the dissipating of many prejudices which now afford such dangerous weapons to the enemies of peace!”