It matters little how much high officials of the Russian government in St. Petersburg and diplomatic representatives abroad deny governmental responsibility in regard to massacres, so long as there is abundant evidence of the guilt of lesser officials and these are allowed to go unpunished. The maximum rebuke that is usually visited upon any particularly conspicuous _pogromschik_ is temporary suspension or transfer from one post to another--sometimes with advance in rank, sometimes with advance in pay, sometimes both.[14] Governmental terrorism, however, does not cease with the massacres. Individuals are assassinated at official instigation, precisely as the terrorists select a bureaucrat or official for “removal.” A notable instance of this was that of Professor Hertzenstein, a dignified and honored professor in the University of Moscow. Mr. Hertzenstein had given a great deal of attention to the agrarian question in Russia during twenty years or more. His counsel and advice guided the members of the first Duma when they were framing their “agrarian program.” Late one afternoon, Professor Paul Miliukoff, who was then editor of the “Retsch,” received word from Moscow by telegram that a semi-official Moscow newspaper [Illustration: Seventy-two years old Child four years old wantonly shot Youth and old age--Bielostok pogrom victims] just published contained an account of the mysterious murder of Professor Hertzenstein near his summer home in Terioki, Finland. No one could be found in St. Petersburg who knew of it, so Professor Miliukoff despatched a messenger to Finland to investigate. Professor Hertzenstein, while walking in his garden with his daughter, was fatally shot that night at a little before nine o’clock, or three hours after the governmental newspaper in Moscow had announced his murder! The next morning the “Retsch” printed a concise statement of the facts--and the police instantly seized the entire edition. Several weeks later it developed that the assassin was an ex-gendarme officer who was paid to do away with the one man whom intellectual Russia trusted to bring them through the thicket of the agrarian tangle. Another famous instance was that of a prominent Moscow physician, named Vorobieff. About the time of the Moscow insurrection, Vorobieff’s house was entered by a party of police commanded by an ex-guards officer called Ermoleff. Ermoleff accused Vorobieff of “treating revolutionaries.” “I am not a politician,” replied the doctor; “I am a physician, a surgeon, and as such I do what I can for whoever is brought to me without regard to political belief.” “Have you a revolver in the house?” inquired the police officer. “Yes,” said the doctor, “and I also have a government permit to own it and to carry it.” “Where is it?” demanded the officer. “In the drawer of my desk.” “Get it.” The doctor turned to obey--and the officer shot him in the back of the head.