e future Russia is now at stake; the fate
of future centuries is now being determined"; but, "wherever we turn
or look, we meet only with new trouble to come, nowhere with any hope
for conciliation or social peace. This, I am afraid, is not the
message that you expected from me, and I should be much happier myself
if I could answer your wish for information with words of hope, and
with the glad tidings that quiet and security have returned to Russia;
but I am here to tell you the truth."

Americans who have not followed closely the sequence of events in
Russia since October, 1905, may feel inclined to ask, "Why should Mr.
Milyukov take such a pessimistic view of the future, when his country
has not only a representative assembly, but an imperial guaranty of
political freedom and 'real inviolability of personal rights'?" The
answer is not far to seek. A representative assembly that has no
power, and an imperial guaranty that affords no security, do not
encourage hopeful anticipations. Russia has never had a representative
assembly, in the Anglo-Saxon meaning of the words; and as for the
imperial guaranty of political freedom, it was written in water.

Twenty-seven months ago, when Count Witte reported to Nicholas II.
that Russia had "outgrown its governmental framework," and when the
Czar himself, recognizing the necessity of "establishing civil liberty
on unshakable foundations," directed his ministers to give the country
political freedom and allow the Duma to control legislation, there
seemed to be every reason for believing that the crisis had passed and
that the people's fight for self-government had been won; but,
unfortunately, the unstable Czar, who would run into any mold, but
would not keep shape, did not adhere to his avowed purpose for a
single week. In the words of a Russian peasant song:

The Czar promised lightly to go,
And made all his plans for departing;
Then he called for a chair,
And sat down right there,
To rest for a while before starting.

Not even so much as an attempt was made to carry the "freedom
manifesto" into effect, and before the ink with which it was written
had fairly had time to dry, the rejoicing people, who assembled with
flags and mottos in the streets of the principal cities to celebrate
the dawn of civil liberty, were attacked and forcibly dispersed by the
police, and were then cruelly beaten or mercilessly slaughtered by
adherents of a national monarc