Thi: \Vorij) Pays Its Tribute. 



48: 



MR. ANDREW CARNEGIE. 



I did not realise how close, how very close, he was 

 to mc until now, and what a man he really was, fore- 

 most of all in his own line — an original. Lord Morley 



was always aware of his supremacy as a public writer, 

 and often named him as the greatest journalist of his 

 dav. 



MISS MARY I. STEAD. 



In the last letter my dear brother wrote me, shortly 

 before he sailed, were these words : — " I am very 

 hopeful about everything as usual. The great thing is 

 to keep believing, trusting, and going ahead." Those 

 sentiments dominated the whole of his life. In the 

 midst of our great sorrow they stimulate and help us. 



DR. E. J. 



IK. T. Stead as He Af^peared to 



My first acquaintance with W. T. Stead was struck 

 up while he was editor of the Pall Mall Gazette and I 

 was Professor of Comparative Philology at the Imperial 

 University of Kharkoff. One afternoon during a long 

 stay I was making in London I called by invitation 

 at the residence of Colonel and Madame Pashkoff, 

 common friends of ours, to hear him read some manu- 

 script articles. His enthusiasm impressed us all. It 

 was contagious and irrepressible. It carried us with 

 him even after criticism had demolished some of the 

 facts which were its life-sources. A few mornings 

 later I was sitting in his sanctum in Northumberland 

 Street, chatting with him as though we were friends 

 of long standing. The theme of our conversation was 

 Russia. Suddenly he exclaimed : " I want you to 

 write an article for me about Russian Christianity. 

 You will, eh ? " " Yes," I replied, " with pleasure, 

 if you give me time. When do you want it ? " " To-day 

 — now. Let me have it before sundown." At first I 

 declined, i)cing very busy just then, but he talked 

 down my objections, and I complied. 



During the quarter of a century that has elapsed 

 since those historic days he and I have often stood 

 face to face fighting on opposite political sides, giving 

 hard knocks and taking them. On Russian problems, 

 British foreign policy, the Hoer'VVar, the Young 

 Turkish rfgime, he and I differed widely in our views. 

 Hut our friendly feelings for each other survived it all. 

 In a letter dated 21st November, 1906, Stead assures 

 me that he knows and always knew that I regard our 

 friendship as compatible " with the heartiest pum- 

 mcliinij and the frankest criticism of the views which 

 we respectively hold." With him one could not well 

 do otherwise. He was incapable of bearing a grudge 

 against anyone. At the various turning-points of his 

 remarkable career I met him frequently, and as 

 frankne^s in a superlative degree marked our relations, 

 he confided his hopes and mi.sgivings to me with an 

 entire lack of reserve. 



I was in England when he was projecting a new great 

 daily newspaper which was to embody his ideal of the 

 l.'ittcr-day journal par excelllnee, supplant the Times, 

 fiirus the aims and further the interests of all the 

 English-speaking communities throughout the world, 



We must not allow our grief to crush us — hoping, 

 believing, trusting, inspired by his grand heroic life, we 

 must " go ahead." " Go ahead " as he did, working 

 for those w^ho suffer, strengthening the weak and 

 defending the oppressed. His great loving, tender 

 heart was always responsive to the cry of such. 



DILLON. 



ne Who was Often His Antagonist. 



and he and I had many a long and warm discussion 

 on some of the details. One day he sent me an 

 exhaustive manuscript article embodying his thoughts 

 on the matter, and asked me to criticise them frankly. 

 As I myself had had occasion a short time before to 

 put my own ideas on the subject to paper, I gladly 

 complied. Whether Mr. Stead's scheme was ever 

 published I cannot say ; but I think it is known to 

 many of his friends. 



But the millionaire never came, and the grandiose 

 scheme was relegated to the limbo of disembodied notions. 



In March, i8go, he set me a difficult task — the 

 translation of Tolstoy's " Kreutzer Sonata," to be done 

 in a few hours. A short time before I had been staying 

 with Count Leo Tolstoy at Yassnaya Polyana, and had 

 puiilished an account of a story of his which had not 

 yet seen the light, but which the author had asked me 

 to translate. Mr. Stead was struck with my article, 

 delighted with his own idea of the story, and indignant 

 that the work of such a lofty moralist as Tolstoy, 

 "who united the genius of Shakespeare with the 

 moral fervour of a Hebrew seer," should see " the ripest 

 fruit of his genius " forbidden in Russia " as too 

 improper for publication." So he sent me a telegram, 

 asking me to render the book into English for the 

 Rkvikw, suppressing nothing, and to let him have 

 the manuscript by the next post. I answered that I 

 would. Obviously he was resolved to give a lesson to 

 the Russian authorities and to provide Tolstoy with a 

 vast and appreciative circle of readers. But when he 

 had perused the manuscript, his eyes were opened to 

 facts which he had not suspected, and his mind grew 

 accessible to the wise counsels of circumspection. 

 "Then." he says, " I understood the condemnation." 

 None the less, he was bent on publishing the story 

 with as little Bowdlerising as might be. But Newnes, 

 who then owned the Review of Reviews, upheld the 

 Russian Censor's objections and refused to allow the 

 '■ Kreutzer Sonata " to ajipear, even when trimmed 

 and euphemised. Then Mr. Stead — as he afterwards 

 told nu— hurried off to a friend, obtainetl from him 

 a loan of the money necessary to buy Newnes out, and 

 the " Kreutzer S(mata " appeared in English without 

 my name. That is how the Review of Reviews 



