Nobody raised his voice in protest because nobody had expected anything different. The orgy of mismanagement was accepted with a good-humoured shrug of the shoulders. _Nitchevo_, it can’t be helped! That was the comment of the fatalism which is at once the greatest weakness and greatest strength of the Russian character. Of course, there was excuse enough. Mobilisation is carried on in the face of more difficulties in Russia than in any other country. Everything militates against its speed and efficiency. It is all on so vast a scale that it would seem impossible for human ingenuity to place it on a systematised basis. The area of the Russian Empire is forty times that of Germany, but its population is only three times as great. The units to be concentrated are diffusely scattered; they have to be gathered singly. The aggregate length of the Russian railway system is only twice that of the German lines, and few of the Russian railways have been laid with a view to meeting military needs. The majority of the troops summoned to the colours have to traverse vast distances, often on foot, before they can reach the railway which will take them to their mobilisation centres. The sparseness of the population renders it difficult for orders to filter through, and still more difficult for troops to be quickly concentrated. A good deal must of necessity be left to the zeal and initiative of the reservists themselves who, in most cases, are utterly unreliable without supervision. At the best, therefore, with good weather and good luck, the mobilisation is but a slow process. Previous to the present war the most obstinate optimist did not believe that, in the most favourable circumstances, it could be completed in less than three weeks or a month. In the present case, too, there were special aggravating circumstances which rendered success all the more doubtful. July had been a month of labour disputes, and it seemed more than likely that the strikes would seriously hamper the mobilisation. Moreover, the Russian military plans were incomplete. A programme of reform was being pushed forward with all possible speed, but it was not to be completed until 1916, at least. The army was in a state of transition. A new system was being imposed upon it, and it was by no means ready for the supreme test. There was a general feeling that it would be better to rely on the old system which, whatever its defects, had at least the merits of being known and understood. A partial muddle was better than the risk of absolute chaos. The order for mobilisation, therefore, could not have come at a more inopportune time. Russia, in spite of all official assurances to the contrary, was unprepared.