ST. PETERSBURG. 5 



to the better side of their nature. One cannot, of 

 course, say anything in this connection of the 119,- 

 900,000, out of Russia's 120,000,000, who never heard 

 of the Century nor Mr. Kennan, and who have as vague 

 ideas of the world beyond the limited horizon of their 

 village communes (mirs) as the Persian ryot in Khor- 

 assan, who once asked me if America was in London. 



There was little to be learned of the true Russia in 

 St. Petersburg. In Russia the investigator very soon 

 discovers that he is sojourning in what may fairly be 

 termed a dual country. There is the Russia of St. 

 Petersburg, Moscow, the Czar, the army, politics, 

 exiles, Siberia, — of which we read and hear from day 

 to day, — and there is the Russia of the peasants, the 

 villages, the country-side, " domestic Russia,'' of 

 which we hear, and many of us know, next to nothing. 

 By writing too confidently at the beginning, one may 

 easily lay himself open to the sort of criticism bestowed 

 on the English tourist, who rides in a parlor-car from 

 New York to San Francisco and then goes home and 

 writes a book about America. 



Though St. Petersburg is deceptive as a glimpse of 

 Russia, it is an Imperial city, magnificent as to 

 churches and public edifices, statuary and monuments, 

 and interesting in the life that ebbs and flows in its 

 streets. St. Petersburg is the rouge and enamel that 

 the sallow, ill-looking tragedienne of the mediaeval 

 part that Russia is playing in the drama of nations, 

 wears, beautifying herself, and coquetting successfully 

 with many who see her and fancy she is Russia. St. 

 Petersburg itself is charming. 



I sat for an hour one day in the window of a caf£ 



