exception of vodka. The question is, Will the amusements prove more alluring than vodka drinking? I doubt it, for the simple reason that the Russian workingman gets all the vodka he wants or can carry-which is the same thing, before he comes to the Pod-niDom. So he gets both, the vodka and his amusement.

From the Moscow station a steam tram with three cars attached puffs noisily to the top of the Nevsky and turns sharp at the Alexander Monastery where beyond the last granary it crosses the canal and crawls along the Neva through the heart of the factory district. Close to the last granary is a lodging house of the cheapest kindsomewhat like the night shelters on Mile End Road, in London, but even more dirty and filthy, taxing an inmate the sum of three kopekas for a night's lodging. But there are strange characters in this place, men who have no future, men of ideas, unwise and impractical which will never materialize, and petty poets, philosophers and anarchists-all men of no homes and most of them of no ambition. A black hole of grime and dirt that reeks out misery and degradation. This was the lodging house that was once a shelter to Maxim Gorky, and its types he has portrayed with a strong hand in mis play, "Nachtayal." This lodging house is the lowest ebb of the Russian workingman and is not indicative in any way of the greater and better class.

One of the first unwritten class distinctions is the tram. The top of the tram is for the lower class. It is far more preferable than the inside and gives one an opportunity to see all on the street below, but a study of his fellow beings is not particularly interesting to a Russian gentleman, and he has no desire to touch elbows-so much so that he would never think of riding on the top of a tram-his pride would not permit it. He prefers a drosky, but if reduced to riding in a tram your Russian gentleman will always ride inside.

In no country in the world is there

He

so vast a difference between the upper and lower classes. The average Rus sian workingman is exceedingly and grossly stupid. A Russian will not admit this with but few exceptions -Prince Kropotkin in chief, and I take it he knows whereof he speaks. goes beyond this, and affirms that the Russian peasant and the Russian workingman are in general only removed one degree from cattle. Very recently a young lad-a laborer in one of the Neva factories-surely he could not have been over seventeen-this tall, thin boy, with a high piping voice took upon himself to inculcate reform unto his fettered companions with a most lamentable result.

He was a boy orator, with many wicked pamphlets filed away in his memory, and these ideas, of which he hardly understood the import, he gave forth to his fellow-creatures. From five in the morning until seven at night-those are hours that would make our workingman howl. During these hours he labored faithfully for the support of his mother and sister, but alas, temptation came his way and he sold his birthright for his cause. After seven he mounted on a stool, that lad, and shouted forth his pernicious thoughts: "Were they satisfied with their long hours? Did they think they received enough roubles for their labor?" "Net! Net!" (no, no) shouted his companions, but they did not arise in their might and demand. And the strange and inconceivable thing occurred that the authorities permittedthe authority, I should say, permitted the boy to speak six days, thinking perhaps that one so young would be laughed at by his companions, older and more thoughtful, presumably, than he. But he flamed bolder and higher, and on the seventh day he spoke no more. They took him away. Where? That is the question! Why? For fear he might strain his voice. And the reason? That the motto of the Russian manufacturer, "long hours and low wages," might not be violated, or any dictum laid down by the Czar be questioned.

And

The strange and illogical effect of long hours and low wages has brought it to pass that most of the articles manufactured in the city are more expensive than in any other land. again why? One would be led to deduce that the government receives an appalling tax. But there is a method in this extortion system, a far-reaching method-this system of long hours and high rates for commodities. It forms an unbreakable barrier around the Russian workingman-he is tied hand and foot. He must remain in Russia because his income is consumed so rapidly that he never has a chance to lay by money to take him to another land. This system keeps in Russia the men they want, and rids the country of many Jews.

In Russia the workingman naturally is only salaried, while the Jew barters in trade-he has a chance. Behold this wonderful system, consider the conditions and the men, and it is evident that the system will continue for many years. If it be any consolation to workingmen in other lands they can count themselves fortunate under all conditions when they compare themselves to their fellow-laborers in Russia who are bound by fetters stronger than any blacksmith could ever forge.

It is extremely difficult to get at the truth in Russia, and newspaper reports are so conflicting and conditions in that country so much at variance with customs in other countries that it is well-nigh impossible to expect the public world in general to grasp the after effects of the late war. Many foreigners have strong, deep-rooted, preconceived notions of how things ought to be managed in Russia, and their ideas are generally erroneous, as they do not fully grasp the conditions and restrictions under which the empire labors. They argue, it is true, from a logical standpoint, but they start with a false major premise. It has been my business to keep in touch with the general trend of European affairs and to live in most of the

capitals of the world to study conditions and phases that make history.

Before going to the front I was in Paris when the first tidings of the Japanese-Russian controversy loomed seriously on the horizon, and men who had made a life study of war were of the opinion that Japan had not the slightest chance of a victory.

As these men were the molders of public opinion, this was the generally accepted view of the public. When the continued success of Japan was evident the weathervane of their opinions shifted, but they were not able to understand why Russia suffered continual reverses. At the beginning of the war the officers in the Russian army and navy were almost unanimous in predicting defeat for their country, but their opinions were not published, as they were compelled to remain silent. The celebrated "marina manifeste" was merely the opinions gathered by experts, reported to the Czar, drafted carefully by trained naval oficers and issued under the name of the Czar. The Czar himself had no conception of the strength or the weakness of his navyhe was as much in the dark as a lower form boy at a public school. It is impossible for any one who does not actually know to realize the tremendous expense of this war to Russia and the great number of obstacles she had to overcome.

Bear in mind that the army was over a month distant by train from its base of supplies, and in winter to transport troops and provisions across Siberia is an exceedingly difficult matter.

In considering the navy, you must realize there are few trained gunners on their warships, and the Russian crews are for the most part recruited from Little Russia-farmers, we would call them, and these men are as illy fitted for naval maneuvers as one is likely to find anywhere. Likewise many of the officers are unfitted for their positions.

This war has been of great benefit to the socialists and nihilists, who by spreading their literature and inflam

ing the troops to revolt have done much toward destroying their own country. If anything happens the burden will fall upon them-which burden I am quite certain will crush them. The little affair of the Potemkin had no weight on the question of mutiny, for this evil is always ready to spring forth. I have seen and talked to soldiers and sailors of many nations and have found about half of them discontented with their lot. If it is not the food, it is the pay, and if not the pay, then the officers are too rigorous, and if the officers are not strict then they complain of laxity in the service. Oh, yes, it is always easy to find fault. Their greatest curse is not mutiny or socialistic pamphlets, but bribery. From the highest to the lowest this is practiced. Funds are subscribed for certain purposes and this purpose is never accomplished. Why? Because the funds have been placed in the private coffers of certain men of rank and never reach the quarter for which they were intended. One of the churches in St. Petersburg has been twenty-five years in course of construction and is still unfinished, and as far as indications point, it will continue in its unfinished state. The funds were intrusted to the uncle of the Czar-the moral is obvious.

The late war has taught Russia many things, and that which was particularly and forcibly brought to her notice and

will inevitably influence the spirit of St. Petersburg, is the fact that her submerged classes are actually human beings.

Of the spirit of patriotism, at which many people may be surprised, I should like to give you the exact words of a Russian officer as we sat in the mess room one bleak night far from his home and native country.

"I wish I could make you understand the way a Russian officer feels," he said, "who has traveled about the world and returns to his own country full of ideas for best interests. I do not believe the Czar has a more patriotic subject than I, but I am forced to silence. The term patriotic subject is almost a paradox, for if you go among the people you will hear on all sides, among themselves, I mean, this dictum: 'Why should I care for the Czar? What has he ever done for me?' It is a terrible condition when things come to this pass. As for myself, I have no sympathy with the socialists. I think they are fanatics, and the country would be ruined under their control. I believe in the Czar. He is my emperor and my religion, and I should like to see him riding through St. Petersburg in safety, with the people cheering on all sides, with all anxious to fight for their country and glad to die for their Czar. This is my patriotism and I know it is shared by many of my brother officers."