The theft which had taken place in the night was discussed from every point of view. “We took pity on him and we hid him,” they said, “and he robbed us.” They spoke of it without any kind of bitterness or grievance, and nobody said:

“I told you so.” Then we arrived at St. Petersburg.


CHAPTER XIX
TRAVEL IN RUSSIA

After Christmas, the second Duma was convened and opened. Its doings were not interesting. It was not a representative body, as the elections had been carefully arranged; still it was better than nothing, and the very existence of a Duma of any kind exercised a negative effect on matters in general. The Government could be interpellated. Questions could be asked. The officials in the country knew that their doings could be discussed in the Duma, and this acted as a check. In April 1907, I had an interview with Count Witte. Witte was a large, tall, burly figure, with slightly ravaged features, intelligent eyes, the facile opportunism and the deep-seated scepticism of those who have had a long experience of affairs, of the ruling of men, and the vicissitudes of political life. He received me abruptly, and with a manner that, far from being ingratiating, seemed to express the unspoken thought, “Why have you come to bother me,” but as the conversation went on he melted and became charming.

The first question he asked me was why I stayed such a long time in Russia, I said it was because it interested me. I then said: “Things seem to be going better.” “Do you think so?” he asked, with a look of amused scepticism. I asked him what he thought of the doings of the Extreme Right, the reactionaries, who were now playing a noisy and important part in political and social life.

He said they were a great danger. The Government would never dare to touch them. He said both the Right and the Kadets had lost faith in him. The Kadets because he had not given them the key of the fortress, and the reactionaries because he had not hung all the Liberals. He talked of the Jewish question, and said that the Jews had begged him not to give them full rights, as they dreaded the consequences of a sudden act of that kind. He said he had always thought it impossible to give the Jews full rights all at once. He said the Kadets were guilty of all that had happened in Russia in the last year, because they had refused to support him when he was Prime Minister, and had been unwilling to help him. Had they done so he might have done a great deal. He then talked of Stolypin. He said Stolypin was an honest man, with no foresight, and a fatalist. “You can’t govern if you are a fatalist,” he said, with a gesture of contempt. He said the present electoral law was a farce, and that the only alternative was to change it or to go back to the pre-Duma state of affairs; and that would not last long. He said that the Kadets recognised their mistakes now, and their failure, and he heard from all quarters they were willing to accept his leadership now, but it was too late. For a thousand reasons he would never take office again after what he had gone through. I asked him how the funds had been obtained for the great general strike. He said it had all been prepared when Plehve was Minister, and had been kept secret. He said he considered the situation in October to have been one of real revolution, as there were then no troops available to deal with the situation.

The impression he gave me was of disillusion, indifference, fatigue, and invincible pessimism. He evidently thought that whatever steps would be taken would be fatal, and he was perfectly right.

In May I went back to London and stayed there till the middle of July, when I came back to St. Petersburg.