er soldiers. As fighting men they can be compared only with Cromwell’s Ironsides.

In the rural districts the popular enthusiasm for the war found an outlet in religion; in the towns it sought a more secular form of expression. Petrograd was the scene of unprecedented outbursts of popular jubilation. Crowds paraded the streets singing the National Anthem and cheering portraits of the Tzar. The French and particularly the British Embassies were besieged by cheering throngs. Every public appearance of the Tzar was the sign for vociferous outbursts of loyalty such as are rarely witnessed in Russia. Even the Empress, whose shattered nerves have kept her virtually a prisoner for years, had to come forward and bow her acknowledgments to the crowds. And, to crown all, the police, gendarmes and military were27 noticeably absent from the streets. The crowds were orderly, in spite of their patriotic fervour. Petrograd was as free and unrestrained as London. It was difficult to realise that only a few days before the spectre of revolution had stalked through the city.

One incident alone marred the demonstrations. On August 4th, news reached Petrograd of the scandalous treatment undergone by the Russian diplomatic staff at the hands of the Berlin mob. Enraged beyond control a huge crowd descended on the Nevski Prospect and after demolishing a German café and several German-owned shops, made a resolute attack on the Embassy. The police were overpowered, the gates forced and the work of destruction began. The flagstaff was torn down, the Prussian Eagle and several pieces of statuary were unceremoniously thrown into the28 Moika Canal; furniture, pictures, linen, books, everything that was inflammable was heaped on the ground and soon a huge bonfire was raging. Amidst a roar of cheering a large portrait of the