f Commerce and Finance always imagined that they
could overrule economic laws by decrees and stratagems. For instance,
they were perpetually endeavouring to divert the flow of trade from its
accustomed channels to some port they wished to stimulate artificially
into prosperity, by granting rebates, and by exceptionally favourable
railway rates. Large quantities of jute sacking were imported from
Dundee to be made into bags for the shipment of Russian wheat. One
Minister of Commerce elaborated an intricate scheme for supplanting the
jute sacking by coarse linen sacking of Russian manufacture, by
granting a bonus to the makers of the latter, and by doubling the
import duties on the Scottish-woven material. I could multiply these
economic schemes indefinitely. Now let us suppose that we had some
source of information in the Ministry of Commerce, it was obviously of
advantage to the British Government and to British traders to be warned
of the pending economic changes some two years in advance, for nothing
is ever done quickly in Russia. People in England then knew what to
expect, and could make their arrangements accordingly. I can see
nothing repugnant to the most rigid code of honour in obtaining
information of this kind.

On May 6, 1882, Lord Frederick Cavendish, the newly appointed Irish
Secretary, and Mr. Burke, the Permanent Under-Secretary for Ireland,
were assassinated in the Phoenix Park, Dublin. I knew Tom Burke very
well indeed. The British Government offered a reward of ten thousand
pounds for the apprehension of the murderers, and every policeman in
Europe had rosy dreams of securing this great prize, and was constantly
on the alert for the criminals and the reward.

In July 1882, the Ambassador and half the Embassy staff were on leave
in England. As matters were very slack just then, the Charge d'Affaires
and the Second Secretary had gone to Finland for four days' fishing,
leaving me in charge of the Embassy, with an Attache to help me. My
servant came to me early one morning as I was in bed, and told me that
an official of the Higher Police was outside my front door, and begged
for permission to come into my flat. I have explained elsewhere that
Ambassadors, their families, their staffs, and even all the Embassy
servants enjoy what is called exterritoriality; that is, that by a
polite fiction the Embassy and the houses or apartments of the
Secretaries are supposed to be on the actual soil of the country the