By the wish of His Majesty the reasons for refusals to grant favours are sometimes given, but this law cannot always be observed. The Emperor has recently given orders to enlarge the Court's sphere of work by accepting appeals to Imperial mercy for criminal charges, and administrative misdemeanours. Finally, I will note the fact that in the year 1908 there were 65,357 petitions through this Court, out of which 64,174 were fortunate enough to obtain the Imperial order for immediate attention. As a rule there are about 65,000 petitions presented yearly. Imperial benevolence (mercy) shown to children amounts to 10,000 cases in famine years. During the war His Majesty ordered from the coffers of the "Court of Petition" no less a sum than 178,000 roubles for the wounded soldiers. "If anyone were to tell the Russian people that the Emperor had not the power to help them, they {242} would never believe such an assertion," observed Baron Budberg (the late head of the Petition Department), "and may that belief in His Majesty's power always remain with the Russians." The Emperor's remark on this statement was that Baron Budberg was right. "Let those who require my mercy come to me with their sorrows in confidence." And many, many are the thousands who have been made happy--thanks to that Court of Appeal. People in England often talk about red tape. It is not for me to judge whether their complaints are well founded--but naturally, when one comes in contact with official pedantry, one is inclined to grumble and lose one's temper, though this as a rule does not mend matters. But to get the better of red tape--ah! that is useful and pleasant. There are occasions even when it may become a great blessing, as in the following, which I hope I may be allowed to relate: In Russia, the Court of Appeal to Mercy allows everybody to appeal to the mercy of the Emperor. It is not difficult to understand that there are great differences in the nature of such appeals, and, in Russia, as likewise in England, prisoners are not allowed to publish their grievances, and still less their appeals to the head of the State. However, by a very happy mistake, such an appeal from the political prisoners slipped, at the end of last year, into one of our best Petrograd papers. The following is a translation of this appeal which may be of interest to English readers: "Your Imperial Majesty, most merciful Tsar. In {243} this tragic hour of our beloved Russia's destiny, we, the prisoners in the Petrograd prison of solitary confinement, approach the footstool of your Majesty's throne, our hearts full of love and boundless devotion, our suffering souls burning with prayers for the victory of our heroic Russian troops. "Within the walls of this prison, we are paying the penalty of our sins. We are far from our homes, far from the heart of the Russian people, doomed to confinement and exile; the only light in our darkness is our faith in the mercy of God and the Tsar.