Ways of War and Peace

The Hermitage Museum is a veritable treasure prison; there is a large picture gallery, one of the finest and most celebrated in Europe. The collection includes a large number of Dutch cottages, such as Van de Meer and Ostada painted.

The gallery is equally rich in the old Italian and French masters. A most interesting part of the collection are the treasures that were once housed at Malmaison. When the Emperor Alexander was in Paris, he visited the divorced consort of Napoleon, who spoke of the property that remained to her and the insecurity of the possession. To protect it until it could be reclaimed, Emperor Alexander bought the treasure and took it to Russia.

The Foundling Hospital is another of the public institution of which the people are justly proud. Though Russian, it is under German supervision. The place is extremely large; this is necessary, for it is never without 5,000 or 6,000 children. The principal buildings are in St. Petersburg, where the children are kept a few weeks. They are then sent to the peasantry in the country, where they remain until they are six years old. The girls return to St. Petersburg, while there is a branch for the boys at Gatshina. The building at St. Petersburg is much more of a palace than a foundling home. The main building is composed of what was formerly the palace of Prince Bohinski and Count Rasumoffski.

When the children are grown they are relieved from all obligations toward the institution. The boys are easily provided with positions in the trades' and imperial factories; the girls are given positions as teachers and governesses.

Though St. Petersburg has fewer churches than Moscow, it has churches of all denominations and every style of architecture. Here are seen Grecian, Byzantine, old Russian, new European architecture and what not. The handsomest of these is St. Isaac's Church. The church is large and imposing without. Inside it has many handsome decorations, costly pictures of saints and gold crosses.

The roof is supported by granite monoliths from Finland, buried for centuries in deep swamps. They are crowned with capitals of bronze and support the enormous beam of a frieze formed of six polished blocks. But the cupola is the crowning glory to all this splendor. It is made of copper and overlaid with gold that glitters like the sun on a mountain.

The Russian capital is most attractive on a pleasant summer evening. The scene presented by the Exchange, the university buildings, the Academy of Arts, the Corps de Cadets and the Academy of Sciences, surrounded as they are with well-kept greensward and splendid flower beds, present an inviting appearance. The river is lined with sailing craft of nearly every description, devoted to pleasure. It has several fine steam yachts which are used by members of the club for making trips up the gulf. On a summer's evening as one sits on the balcony of the English Club or strolls up the quay, listening to the band in the garden of the Summer Palace, the swift-moving passengers in their gayly trimmed barks made a pretty sight against the splendid buildings and gilded spires of the churches.

Not all the beauty of St. Petersburg lies in this one island. The city is in a delta and is surrounded by a whole chain of islands. The wildest and least inhabited is Neva, visited principally by seals and wolves. Then there are the Volny Islands, the Truktanoff Islands, and some others. These are swampy and overgrown with birch and scarcely known by name to many Russians. They contain magazines and are used for powder and other stores. The most interesting of these are the Gardens Islands, which at one time were covered with scrubs, but Alexander and Nicholas saw in them possibilities for raising flowers, and they have gradually been transformed into splendid islands. Yelagin belongs almost exclusively to the court; it is occupied by a château and beautiful gardens. The court live here in the spring and early summer, when the gardens blaze with brilliant colors. The houses are certainly modest looking. The most interesting feature is that they are built on the bank of the rivers and in different styles of architecture; one Gothic, a second Italian and a third Chinese. The hothouses are wonderfully supplied with cut and exotic plants and the peasants' cottages are filled with splendid window boxes.

CHRISTMAS WITHOUT A SANTA CLAUS

Have you ever stopped to think what Christmas would mean with no Christmas tree nor Santa Claus? Still, this year many thousand children will have a heavy heart instead of a happy Christmas tree. Many thousands have lost their fathers in war and their homes have been destroyed.

Many others have their fathers at war, and the mothers, with their large families of children, are struggling from day to day to keep the wolf from the door. Deprived of many necessities, they cannot enjoy the cheapest luxuries. Under the inspiration of some of our newspaper publishers, a Xmas ship was fitted out with toys of every description, including dolls, baby-buggies, cradles, games, books and finery and sent to the children of every land. This number includes the French, English, Belgians, Germans, etc.

These gifts are not enough to make every child happy, but they will do much to ease the heartaches and disappointments.

There are few countries where Christmas has as much significance as it does in Germany. For Germany is the home of the fir-tree, and the finest of these are kept for the winter holidays. In the late fall you see a great many of the woodmen out in the woods laying low the fir-trees. A few weeks later they have been shipped in great wagon-loads into every German city and town.

For many months the many toy-makers are busy making doll's houses, kitchens, kitchen utensils, dishes, a large variety of building-blocks and those puzzles and games that have made the toy-makers of Nuremburg and the city of Nuremburg famous. In the homes busy mothers are working day and night making Leppkincuhen, tarts, cakes, cookies, etc. The extra minutes are filled hurrying to the grocers to buy candles, fruits and nuts for the tree.

These are all preliminaries for the dressing of the tree, which is beautifully decorated with many candles, shimmering balls, small ornaments, figured candies, stockings jammed full with fruits and candies. Then the children get out their presents which they have bought and made for their parents, brothers and sisters, and these are dedicated to the tree.

The children are warned if they play unfair and try to see Santa Claus he will punish them by taking their toys away, and perhaps he may never come to see them again.

Though in most Christmas homes the trees are trimmed several days ahead of time, it is on Christmas eve that the children gather to sing their favorite airs, such as "O Tannenbaum," and to say their prayers. Then the father makes an address to Santa Claus, reminding him of those that have been good and suggesting, when necessary, that there might be an improvement in the behavior of some of the children. The children are then allowed to see the tree arrayed in all its glory. They dance around the tree for some time, and suddenly every one appears to hold his breath.

For Santa Claus appears, dressed in his heavy traveling-coat, with his fur cap pulled down over his head and jingling his bells as he comes along. The servants, where there are not too many, come in to join in the festivities and get their presents from the trees. If there are relatives or friends who have no Christmas trees of their own they are often invited to join in the merry-making. The tree is kept lit for three or four days, and is looked upon as an emblem of good fortune and cheer. They gaze and gaze upon this brilliantly lit tree, brilliant with light, festive with frost, silver, gold and many colored globes, as though it had been waved into the room by some beautiful little fairy. Joy hangs on every branch, a bright glow comes from hundreds of tips.

Though the absence of the Christmas tree is the greatest grief to the children, the loss is heightened by the neglect of Santa Claus. This old man is so grieved by this awful carnage and slaughter that he even forgets his obligations to his children of many lands. Many million children all the way from Norway to Japan will miss the fellow with that great beard, his mischievous smile, and bushy eyebrows, half covered by the cap pulled down over his eyes.

The children of Belgium will miss him as much as will the Germans. Though the Christmas tree is scarce in Belgium, Santa Claus is greatly beloved by them. Weeks before his coming the children are busy writing him letters telling him all about their good deeds, their wishes and their hopes, that they will not be neglected. The parents work hard to keep his coming a secret, but their little ones are so impatient they struggle to keep awake nights seeing what Santa Claus intends to bring them. Once in a great while they see him climbing down the chimneys, putting their toys before the grate and piling them high in their stockings. The parents make a hard fight to see that their children are remembered with some simple gift, for they know that their children are heartbroken if they are neglected altogether. An English author, S. R. Littlewood, tells the following story about a Belgium child's grief because she had been neglected by Santa Claus, the story of the poor widow and her daughter Julie: "It was Christmas Eve, but there was no Christmas party, no cakes and toys and imps, for they were penniless and starving. They had wandered through the snow all day and there was no one who would help. Weary and forlorn, numbed with the cold and fainting with hunger, they came back to their bare little attic with its broken windows, its hard pallet bed. But Julie kept up a brave heart. She had not lost faith. She, like the other children, would hang out her torn stocking. This she did and she prayed that Santa Claus would not forget; and while her mother slept she lay awake, wondering whether after all Santa Claus would come. She waited and waited, and sometimes she grew afraid, and even the sound of her breath startled her in the darkness and the silence. But it seemed that Santa Claus would never come. The old stocking hung limp and empty. As night wore on the air grew keener. The wind blew through the roof above her head, she could see a star shining. As it twinkled there alone in the far off depths of the sky, it seemed to be flashing her a message – a message of hope. Never had she seen so beautiful a star. Whilst she lay gazing it seemed to grow larger and more glorious. Could it be that it was coming nearer? At last it seemed to be close at hand – to fill the whole sky with light that streamed through the little gap above her and made a splendor even in that wretched garret. And now she sees that it is not really a star, but a little company of angels winging their way together to earth. In the midst is a chariot, drawn by white horses with wings and postillioned by a cherubim, and in the chariot – yes, it is Santa Claus. Just over the house the chariot and its escort stopped, the rent in the roof widened and Santa Claus came down. Gently, lovingly as a father, he took Julie in his arms, wrapped her in his great furred coat, set her in the chariot beside him and with the throng of angels soared heavenward again, and the rustle of their wings was like the music of the wind. All the while the poor widow was sleeping, and when she awoke in the morning she found the stocking still empty and the form of her little daughter lying by her side – but it was cold and still. The poor widow kissed the lifeless lips and closed the tired eyes, which even yet gazed upward to where, through the roof, a tiny star could be seen, faintly glimmering through the dawn. For all her tears she found comfort in her heart, for she knew that Santa Claus had come indeed, and had brought for little Julie the greatest gift of all."

There are thousands of such little Julies in Belgium weeping because they are destitute of homes, father and Santa Claus' visit. Though the English children are sympathizing with their little Belgian friends, this great war has put a damper on their holiday spirits. In hundreds of homes the fathers are fighting for the defense of their country; in many more they are out of work. So, in Merry England there is little merriment on this blessed Christmas day. The children are trying to be happy with the few gifts given by their little American and European friends. But they are sad when they recall the tall, heavily-laden trees, so beautifully lighted that some of the longest tapers seemed to reach the stars.

The absence of trees and presents is only a small part of their loss. For only those who have eaten a Christmas dinner in England can understand what Christmas day is without the feast. The great roasts are simmering and crackling on the spits, while the vegetables of potatoes, chestnuts and peas are boiling. These are accessories to the jams, jellies, pumpkin pies, plum pudding, fruits and nuts. Several hours are needed at least to consume such a dinner, and several days are needed to get over the effects of such a feast.

Though the Norse countries, including Norway, Sweden and Holland, are neutral, they, along with the others, are suffering from the most terrible calamity of the century. The Norse people call their friend Senter Klaas. He comes to them with white horses and flying sleighs that carry him over the house-tops to drop his gifts down the chimney-stacks. Though Senter Klaas has done his level best to visit these children this year, as usual, he is bringing fewer Christmas trees with him – and his bag is lighter. Instead of carrying kites, sleighs, skates, boats and Dutch dolls, his presents include caps, overcoats, shoes, mittens, dresses and aprons for those pretty Norse girls. Many of the Swiss cities and towns are so high up in the cold, snow-covered Alps, that many American children are unfamiliar to them. But this sister-republic, which loves freedom, honor and integrity, should be extremely dear to every patriotic little American. The Swiss are hard-working people, and rich and poor alike in Switzerland rear their children in the same simple, unspoiled fashion. But Christmas is a week for real merry-making in Switzerland. Children and grown-ups alike are busy making visits to relatives and friends. Those from the mountains come down into the lowlands, and those from the villages into the cities. In every small hamlet the stations are crowded with trees and Christmas boxes being shipped in every direction. Mothers and daughters are using every spare moment dressing dolls, and trimming dolls' houses for younger children. While the fathers and older brothers are equally busy making watches, sleighs and wooden Noah's arks for the younger boys. Switzerland is world-famous for its fir and pine trees, so the Christmas trees are often large enough to bear the gifts of several families. The trees are beautifully trimmed with lights, gold and silver balls and plenty of angels and grotesque figures, fashioned of wax and of sugar. The feast and merry-making continues for three and four days in most Swiss homes. The grown-ups and children are stuffed with goodies, including chickens, jellies, candied fruits, nuts, raisins and cakes. When they can eat no more they start off for a mountain climb or to skate on the ice, only to return a few hours later to continue their feast. They are comforted by the thought that they will only know high thinking and plain living for the rest of the winter. This Christmas will be the harder to bear because it is the evening star in the Swiss horizon. Switzerland is being so heavily taxed this year by keeping her men on the frontier that the people have little money for Christmas-giving. The tall trees will be few, the small trees will be decorated with only a few candles and trimmings, while the gifts will be limited to clothes and school books for the girls and boys. The Christmas dinner will be a great deal smaller, with fewer goodies than in other years.

Though Russia is so far away from Santa Claus' home and workshops, Russian children get their full quota of toys, such as sleighs, skates and dolls. Costly dolls, with real hair and handsome clothes, for the children of the nobles and aristocratic classes, and pretty peasant dolls for the middle classes and the peasants. Bobsleighs and skates of different qualities for the boys of rich and poor, but this matters little as long as they are bobsleighs and skates.

The children of Southern lands, from Spain, France and Italy, know little about St. Nicholas and his own day of celebration three weeks before, but to them Santa Claus means much as part of the Christmas feast itself. In the streets and in the shops hundreds of children gaze longingly and lovingly at the bebe or bambino in Italian. They beg to be taken to the great cathedrals in Paris, in Madrid, in Florence and in Rome, to see that wonderful Christ-child lying in the manger, protected by the sheepfold, the peasants and the Wise Men. They go home and ask their parents to give them a bambino such as they saw in the manger. Some get handsome babies dressed in rich swaddling clothes; others are given tiny wax dolls, but they are comforted in the thought that it is the baby they saw in the manger. The finest of these dolls come from France. About five millions are made every year and are sent to Paris, where they are dressed in the latest styles. Shortly before Christmas prizes are offered to the costumers dressing the finest dolls. In the great shops days are set aside when this large number of handsome dolls are shown to the children. Many a heart beats as those happy, sunny eyes gaze on the lovely-made dolls, dressed in faultless fashion. The boys have their exhibits of mechanical toys, including aeroplanes, trains, motor cars and many others of the sort. These dolls are sent to all parts of the world, and many find a lasting beloved home with little American girls.

Santa Claus is known to be a very old man, with plenty of snow-white hair and loving eyes, but he has different qualities and characteristics in every land. When the early colonists came from Europe to America they brought their different ideas with them, and together they molded a new character. He loves old and young alike, and generous folks most of all. He knows no difference in nationalities and creeds – he loves the Protestant, the Catholic and the Jewish child equally. He loves American children, nor no less than the German, French, English, Russian and Italian children. He tells them that they are all children of one Father, belong to one great family, and have one Home. The joys of one are the joys of all, and the sorrows of one are the sorrows of all. Because of this teaching, many millions of Americans are sad this Christmas, and their prayers are that every heart should be filled with love and peace, instead of hatred.

To make this a living promise, many an American child has asked to share his Christmas gifts with some friend across the sea, and some have offered all their Christmas gifts to sad, lonely children in Europe. Though every great thinker and writer teaches us to love our fellow-men, Dickens, more than all others, gave us the impulse of loving kindness within and without the household bonds. He taught that each little home was a world's great family, of which we are all children together. With the glow not of log-fires, but of warm hearts, he scared away the Christmas ghosts and Christmas goblin that had crowded round in the gloom of the centuries. With an outburst of human tenderness he challenged the cold and darkness, not of winter alone, but of the grave itself. For, as Santa Claus kneels by millions of his children he whispers these are all my children, one of God's many emblems of hope, in innocence and beauty; born in human love, chosen as God's messenger to spread the promise of peace and brotherly love.