had recourse to the method of ignoring trouble rather than removing it. They simply forbade the Press to discuss or criticise the Russian situation. The Press apparently accepted this course as being the wisest in the circumstances. At any rate it was by this time their habitual method. And the incessant chorus of the Allied Press could continue undisturbed to approve and raise all that was going on in Russia. The only concern of the Government and the Press was not to disturb the public or shake its confidence. And the people were misled and encouraged to believe that Russia was all right, and her spirit splendid. While Russia was being exhausted economically and disintegrating as a military power, the Allied peoples were awaiting with the utmost confidence great military successes in the East.
Then came rumours of separate peace negotiations between the Tsar's Government and the Germans; nay more, not rumours but grim and definite facts, which were openly spoken of in the Russian Parliament.
Again—the truth was avoided and perverted. Miliukov's speech in the Duma, accusing the Tsar's Government of treason—an historic event—was simply and ignobly concealed from the British public. There was but a slight confusion felt in the Allied Press for a day or two, and then the line was straightened once more and the harmonious chorus of newspaper praise broke out again, inspiring confidence by its pleasant music.
But at this time even the long-suffering and confiding British public became somehow affected and plainly uneasy. Very likely the British Government itself was somewhat disquieted. At any rate a great Commission, headed by Lord Milner, was sent to Petrograd to investigate the situation on the spot. And then a most remarkable thing happened. Lord Milner's Commission, well able to understand and judge such a situation at any other time, proved utterly incompetent to discover anything abnormal or anxious in the situation of Russia.
