alert spirit infects the foreigner, makes him a more frank, trustful, optimistic warrior for the truth, and causes him to forget what it means to be downcast in spirit, or what spleen and hypochondria are.

Until he died, in Siberia, in Russia, everywhere, Dr. Alexyeeff worked for temperance.  He was enthusiastic about it when I saw him and his wife in England, in 1907.

Mr. Tchelisheff having been aroused to interest, theoretically, by America, via Dr. Alexyeeff, as is fairly proven, it was only natural that he should proceed to make the personal observations on the practical, social side of drunkenness which he mentions in his Times interview.  He noticed, during the great famine of 1891, that it was the drunkards who had squandered their grain and pawned their possessions to the keepers of the dramshops who robbed other men’s granaries and houses, burned, rioted, and murdered; while the men who did not drink had plenty of food and grain to hold out.  We are informed from Russia that even during its still brief reign prohibition has resulted in remarkable improvement in health, living conditions, and bank accounts.

Mr. Tchelisheff is, as I have said, a noteworthy figure in history.  He would be a remarkable figure in any land; but for those who are not acquainted with Russia, the rise of a man born a peasant, educated solely by his own efforts on stray newspapers and books which fell in his way in his schoolless village, and absolutely lacking in money or influence, ("svyazi”—­connections, is the Russian version of “pull,”) to the position of multi-millionaire and co-worker with the Emperor, is amazing almost beyond belief.  In reality, it is as simple as the rise of an American newsboy, of an Edison or a Carnegie to a position of power in the United States.  Fate, circumstances, as well as their own personality are the factors in all these cases; and in every similar case.

Moreover, there is in Russia no eternally impassable barrier of caste, but there is a genuine democracy which is not easy to define, but is very easily felt.  For instance, the title of “Prince,” (to which, unlike that of “Count” or “Baron”—­conferrable—­one must be born, runs the rule, with exceptions for such national heroes as Suvaroff,) counts for nothing or approximately that, unless its owner possesses, in addition, the wealth, character, learning or other characteristics which would render him a man of mark without it.

There are other interesting instances of peasants who have risen high in Russia, and Mr. Tchelisheff is their worthy successor.  The founder of the great silversmiths’ firm of Ovtchinnikoff was a serf.  His successors have made it their rule, “out of gratitude to God,” to maintain and educate a certain number of poor boys, who, when their intellectual and technical training is completed, are free to remain with the firm as valued artists or to go forth independently.  When the Emperor Alexander II. celebrated the twenty-fifth anniversary