THIERS said: “Take everything seriously but nothing tragically.”

Well, with all due respect to the great man, l do take tragically the impossibility to receive certain letters, and can only drown my sorrow and vexation in my usual champagne—work. Several of my contributions have appeared in the Asiatic Review. Also, I have just finished a collection of my articles with an autobiography in the form of a raffle. Among the names inscribed on the raffle tickets are:

John Bright,

A. W. Kinglake,

Count Nicholas Ignatieff,

General Skobeleff,

Monsieur de Stael,

Prince Lobanoff,

Monsieur Eugene Novikoff,

Count Schouvaloff,

The Chancellor, Prince Gortchakoff,

and our last interview.

Then follow several of my articles, reviewed and corrected: “Count Alexander Keyserling,” “The Emperor Nicholas I. and his visit to my Mother,” “The Emperor’s Longing for an Anglo-Russian Alliance,” “Russia and Turkey,” etc.

All this constitutes the first part. There will be three parts in all.

I continue to receive very kind and unexpected invitations. Recently, the Committee of the Shakespeare Society invited me as guest of honour to a great banquet at which about a hundred people were present. I wondered how anyone would find something new to say on a subject so well-worn during the last 300 years! Imagine, then, my astonishment, my horror, when I found on the programme my own name printed, with the announcement that I should respond to the toast addressed to foreign guests. My first impulse was to fly; but such cowardice not being in my nature, I took my courage in my hands, and at the given moment pronounced the following speech, as if it were quite a natural thing for me to make speeches:

“Kind audience,—I am flattered by your amiable invitation, to which, as a foreigner, I hardly had any right. But let me tell you that I have a little friend who renders me invaluable services. I mean my little watch bracelet, that makes me think of time and space. I shall not trouble you for more than five or six minutes; for though I feel myself to be a veritable Demosthenes, I resemble him only as he was before his famous pebble cure! You know that at that time he hesitated, stammered, and stuttered. Therefore, five minutes of eloquence on these conditions is all I dare inflict, on your patience.

“I will begin by saying that one of the best translations of your great writer was made by the Grand Duke Constantine, who died a few months ago. This charming Grand Duke had, in addition, a considerable histrionic talent, and his ‘Hamlet,’ represented by himself at the Palace of Their Majesties in Petrograd, achieved an immense success.

“But there is still something else that I shall take the liberty to say about Shakespeare. In our day there is much talk of ententes, alliances, friendly treaties, etc. Nothing can be more a propos at this moment. But Shakespeare has done something that surpasses all ententes, alliances, and treaties between counties large and small. Shakespeare has become the eternal link by which all parts of the civilized, thinking, reading world аre indissolubly united. This is a unique part created by an Englishman.

“As a last word, I can only say, ladies and gentlemen, you have every reason to be proud of this acknowledged fact.”

Upon this I bowed and resumed my place. My little speech was received most kindly.

There could not have been a better reward for my laconism.