the tragedy which terminated the reign of the unfortunate Paul placed the imperial crown upon the head of Alexander, but cast a shadow over his life which never wholly passed away. To his latest hour, in every period of sorrow or despondency, "the agony returned." It was not exactly remorse, for he was guiltless; but it was poignant grief and horror. It deepened that inherited tendency to morbid gloom and depression which perhaps, even amidst the happiest surroundings, might have developed as years went by.
In one of these sorrowful moods he confessed his dejection to an intimate friend, hinting that he envied him his unfailing cheerfulness. Prince Galitzin told him in reply that he had found in the Bible the source of true comfort and happiness. The story was a remarkable one. Early in his reign Alexander nominated Galitzin "Minister of Public Worship." "But I know nothing about religion," objected the Prince, who, like his master, had been educated in an atmosphere of French infidelity. "That is a point in your favour," replied the philosophic Czar. "It will secure your impartiality. You have only to hold the balance even, and do justice to every one." But Galitzin, not quite satisfied, asked Archbishop Plato to recommend him some book which would give him a knowledge of religion. The venerable metropolitan advised him to read the Bible; which he did, at first very reluctantly, afterwards with ever deepening interest and profit.
Alexander determined to follow the example of his friend, and next day surprised the Empress Elizabeth by asking her to lend him a Bible. She gave him a French copy of the Sacred Word—De Sacy's translation, printed at Cologne—and it became thenceforward his inseparable companion. For a long time he was haunted by sceptical doubts; but he persevered in his study, and the shadows that obscured his soul gradually and slowly passed away.
Notwithstanding the general unbelief and indifference of the
