Г.В. Вильямс (5–18 ноября 1928г.) 64

The untimely death of Harald (in Orthodoxy Gregory) Vasilyevich Williams, a public figure and publicist, editor of the foreign department of the Times newspaper, caused deep sorrow in English society, but it also resonated heavily in Russian hearts. In him we lost a faithful, intelligent, noble friend of Russia. The English people have many sons who are selflessly devoted to their homeland, but the Russian people will find few among foreigners in these days of trials, if only they find a friend so devoted and, at the same time, so knowledgeable about our homeland, where he lived for many years, sharing with it joys and sorrows. He became, as it were, Russian, without ceasing to be an Englishman from head to toe, representing the embodiment of the noblest traits of his people. The socio-political significance of his work has already been indicated in the modern press, I would like to say a few words about him. The deceased was a remarkable and instructive phenomenon of Christian-European culture, especially in our age of national and tribal chauvinism and exclusivity. It organically united the Russian East and the European West, the Russian element and the Anglo-Saxon character, moreover, without mutual absorption, but with mutual enlightenment. In such a phenomenon in itself there is something inviting and prophetic, testifying to the possibilities and fruitfulness of the spiritual rapprochement of Christian peoples. For at least 20 years, I had to meet and observe the deceased at different times: in Russian literary and political circles, at a Moscow church council, and in London society. But I was always amazed by his ability to love and honor our spiritual values, no matter what they were. They became, as it were, his own property. G.V. was a citizen of the world: an Australian by birth, a European by upbringing, a Russian by his family connections, an outstanding linguist who constantly kept in his head information and thoughts about all world events, he was also part of the Russian cultural society, imbued with its interests. And the needs of the Russian Church were especially close to him; in particular, with lively participation and understanding he followed what was happening at the Moscow Church Council of 1917–1918. In recent years, the Russian-English house of G.V. and his wife was a natural place for the spiritual meeting of England and Russia. Coming to London, we Russians had a home where we knew everything we needed would be arranged, whoever should be invited, everything would be taken care of. And this concern, first of all, related to what is most dear to the Russian heart, to the Orthodox Church. In particular, our Theological Institute should prayerfully remember and thank its friends at Chelsey. Representatives of different strata of English society naturally gathered in this house: clergy, parliamentarians, writers, public figures in order to hear our Russian stories about Russian needs, hopes and sorrows. With a farewell glance I would like to hold the captivating image of the deceased in my soul. Knowing him, it was impossible not to admire him. The most attractive thing about him was his quietness and modesty, Christian humility, through which one could feel a strong will, alien to vagueness, spiritual composure and iron discipline of work. In his noble bearing there was a combination of genuine gentlemanliness and some kind of spirituality (it was not for nothing that he was the son of a Methodist pastor, and he himself stood on the same path in his youth), and it corresponded to the purity and simplicity that shone in his eyes and in his smile. Anglo-Saxon firmness was combined in him with Russian shyness. In those days that we had to spend under his roof, we talked, it seemed, most of all without words, for the words were chaste and stingy, but this silent, quiet speech was all the more significant. Let others, more called to this, evaluate his merits in the field of politics and journalism, but I want to say one thing about him, but the most important thing: he was a Christian. He had been a friend of Orthodoxy for a long time, he was attracted to it for many years, but for various reasons, among which, I think, not the least role was played by shyness, which sometimes turns into spiritual timidity, he remained outside of Orthodoxy. On the wings of approaching death, he crossed this line, and with his dying act of joining Orthodoxy, he summed up his spiritual life. Let the Russian people say their Russian thanks and in better days not forget the one who in the most difficult days of trials was their faithful friend, and may this Orthodox death be a bright omen of that ecclesiastical union of East and West, which, by the grace of God, is so clearly indicated in the rapprochement of Eastern Orthodoxy and Anglicanism. May the Lord rest the soul of His servant Gregory! Published by “The Path”... No. 14. December 1928. pp. 108–110. – Approx. edit