In Potemkin\'s fatherland the art of government consists principally in hiding the truth not only from the people, but also from the Czar, who must be made to believe that he really strives for the welfare of the people, and not only for that of the all-powerful bureaucracy. Potemkin\'s art, as is well known, consisted in deceitfully showing to his beloved Empress, in a long journey, prosperous peasant farms, where in reality wretchedness and misery had established their permanent home. What the all-powerful favorite had accomplished by means of pasteboard and bushes, costs the modern Potemkins somewhat more comfort; but like their predecessor, they are in a position to supply it from the richly filled imperial treasury. The "Narodni Dom," the people\'s institute on the St. Petersburg fortress, is utilized to persuade the philanthropic Nicholas that in his paternally governed empire more ample provision is made for the common people and their welfare than in the heartless, civilized Western countries.

[Pg 104]

To the eye of a well-meaning ruler or of a well-disposed globe-trotter this is really a pleasant sight. Framed in alleys of tall trees, there rises in the park a far-stretching stone structure, of St. Petersburg dimensions, surmounted by a great cupola. On the payment of ten kopeks at the entrance we walk into the well-heated central portion under the dome, brightly illuminated by arc-lamps. Furs and overshoes are removed. And now an exclamation of admiration escapes our lips. A well-dressed crowd strolls naturally, without crowding and elbowing, towards a platform rising at the farther end, on which, to judge at a distance, Neapolitan folk-singers are performing. We join the procession, and when scarcely in the middle of the immense hall supported by iron girders, there resound behind us thundering notes that cause us to look upward. An orchestra stationed on a one-story-high cross-gallery has begun a Russian popular song. The singers before us stop for a while. The crowd moves forward. A negro dandy with high, white standing collar and patent-leather boots, proudly leads by the arm a voluptuous blonde of the Orpheum type. He grimly shows his teeth and fists to the scoffers who make fun of the unequal pair; but this does not end in a race conflict, for it is not yet certain whether a negro boy is more in sympathy with the Japanese or the Russians. We finally reach the interesting side of the hall, and there opens before us a still more [Pg 105]enchanting picture. Behind long buffet-tables, kept scrupulously clean, and laden with all the delicacies of Russian cookery, from caviar sandwiches to the splendid mayonnaise of salmon, there bustle neat waitresses in white caps and broad, white aprons. The prices are maintained low throughout. The same is true of the warm dishes, the preparation of which we could watch in the large, open kitchen. Spirituous liquors are not sold, but in their place kvass, and tea from the immense copper samovar blinking in the kitchen. The glasses are continually washed by sparkling water on an automatically turning high stand. The bright nickel, the reddish shimmer of the copper, the bluish white tiles of the floor and walls, the snow-white garments of the cooks, the white light of the arc-lamps could induce a Dutchman to produce a very effective painting of neatness. We allow ourselves to be crowded forward, and after a fruitful pilgrimage, pass the folk-singers, where a part of the crowd is gathered, back towards the central hall, which we now observe at our leisure. We are struck here, in the first place, by the colossal portraits of the Emperor and Empress. They are the hosts here; for the millions for the imposing structure came from the Emperor\'s private purse. Then there is an immense map of the Russian empire for stimulating patriotic sentiments. But there await us still other pleasures. The entire left wing of the building is occupied by an enormous popular theatre. To-night [Pg 106]Tschaikowski\'s "Maid of Orleans" is being played. We purchase tickets at the popular price of one ruble per seat, whereby we secure a place at about the middle of the extensive parterre, and are enabled to look over the public in front and at back of us; and this is not less interesting than the play on the stage. The seats in the rows ahead of us cost up to two rubles; in the rows at the back of us up to sixty kopeks. On either side are galleries and standing room that cost "only" from thirty to seventy kopeks. In comparison with the prices in the other St. Petersburg theatres those of the "Narodni Dom" must be considered decidedly popular, even though it is a peculiar class of people that can spare thirty kopeks to two rubles for an evening at the theatre, quite aside from the incidental expenses of an evening drive, of admission, and of wardrobe. But of that later.

We follow the play. The performance is decidedly respectable, from the leader to the chorus. The setting is quite brilliant, and true to style, the orchestra well trained, with some very excellent performers among the soloists. We forget, for the time being, that we are in Russia, notwithstanding the Russian language and the Russian music. It is Schiller\'s heroic composition which has inspired the composer. Dunoi\'s Lahire, Lionel, Raymond, Bertram, Agnes Sorel, Charles, the cardinal appear before us in familiar scenes, and we experience at times quite peculiar sensations when we again come[Pg 107] across this northern night, the images, the glowing rhetoric of which in the dear tongue of our own poet had given us the first intoxicat............