An amusing example comes to my mind in connection with Lord Napier of Ettrick, a former British Ambassador at Petrograd, and a great friend of mine. Lord Napier called on me one day, and greeted me with a humorous glance. "I have just been to see your Governor-General," he said, smiling. "What funny people there are in the world! I went on business about some Englishman who came to me a few days ago with a complaint against a Russian. I was too busy to occupy myself with the matter, so thought I would hand it over to the local authorities. The Governor-General, however, didn't give me time to say much--before I had explained anything, he interrupted me with the warmest assurances that I need have no fears whatever,--that the Russians would be punished, and the Englishman given full satisfaction for whatever offence he may have suffered." {196} "I considered it my duty," continued Lord Napier, "to make it quite clear to the Governor-General that I knew nothing about the rights of the matter and that it was necessary to look into the facts. After all, the Englishman might be in the wrong, or the whole thing might be an invention! But really, I had the greatest difficulty in persuading our friend to consider such a possibility! Is not my impartiality praiseworthy? Are you not pleased?" and Lord Napier smiled questioningly. We both laughed, and I thought it best to treat the incident as a good joke--but actually, I confess that its humour by no means appealed to me! Let me draw a parallel: A few years ago a woman of doubtful nationality was arrested by the Russian authorities in Warsaw. She immediately wailed out that she was of British extraction, and made a theatrical appeal "to the English nation," through the medium of some English newspaper correspondent. Without making the smallest attempt at investigating the circumstances, the whole of Great Britain was up in arms and astir with anger and indignation. Excited meetings and demonstrations followed through the length and breadth of the land, while the newspapers filled their columns with foolish unfounded libels on Russia. The whole agitation only ended with the official report of the British Consul in Warsaw, announcing the Emperor's pardon, by which the originator of all this agitation was allowed to return to her country. It is indeed a happy fact that no Englishman or Englishwoman need ever fear to travel in any {197} country where there exists a British Embassy or Consulate. Every British subject knows that wherever he may be, there is someone who can, in case of need, protect and defend him, and that once he has announced his nationality he has nothing more to fear. All this only makes one repeat the wish that our Russian officials might somehow be induced to show more interest in their fellow-countrymen, and, in their international relations, to follow closely and fearlessly the admirable example of our great ally England.