There can be no doubt that the monarchical principle, as we understand it, makes rapid progress in Russia. The Emperor has always been an autocrat, but his worst enemy could not accuse him of ever having been merely despotic; and surely, though gradually, he will be less and less an autocrat, and more and more constitutional in his rule. He meets the needs and satisfies the ideals of his people, as he embodies in his person government and rule. If any one thinks that Russia has a seething revolutionary spirit longing for expression and an outlet, I can't help feeling that they are utterly and entirely mistaken. Serious discontent and unrest prevail; but, as I will try and show later, it is directed against the social order rather than against the Emperor himself. Plots to kill him have been plots to overturn the social order, and nothing more. Even political exiles in Siberia never blame him for their condition, as Mr. de Windt tells us: "I never once heard members of the imperial family spoken of with the slightest animosity or disrespect; and once when the Emperor was mentioned one of the exiles burst out with a bitter laugh-- "'The Emperor! You may be quite sure the Emperor does not know what goes on, or we should not be here a day longer.'" The people are wholly loyal, and regard their ruler as embodying a government which is in their own interests as being his children. There can be no doubt that this is the feeling throughout the empire, however difficult it may be for some classes in our community to believe it. For instance, as it has been pointed out,[11] "When not long ago in the House of Commons it was debated whether or no the King should pay a visit to the Emperor of Russia, and some one suggested that were the visit to be cancelled the immense majority of the Russian people would regard it as an insult, and that the Russian peasants bore no ill-will towards the Emperor, but rather complained of the results of a system of government which in the last few years has undergone, and is still undergoing, radical change." When such arguments were brought forward some of the Labour Members nearly burst with ironical cheers. Here, they thought, was the voice of officialdom, Torydom, and hypocrisy speaking. Now turn to the facts. When Professor Kovolievski was elected a member of the first Duma in the government of Karkov as an advanced Liberal Member, he, after his election, asked some of his peasant electors whether he was not right in supposing that had he said anything offensive with regard to the Emperor at his meetings there would have been no applause. "'We should not only have not applauded,' was the answer, 'but we should have beaten you to death.'"