The elections are taking place now. I tried during the whole of yesterday to grasp thoroughly the working of the franchise law. I failed to grasp it. I asked one Russian how many degrees there were in the suffrage. He said four. I asked another; he said three. I asked a third; he said two. However, what has happened in twenty-five Governments as far as the peasants are concerned is this: the peasants have elected delegates for their districts. Each district elects a delegate. The delegate elects an elector and the elector elects the member. That is one part of the process. Three degrees. The result of these elections was that out of 222 districts in 23 Ouiezds 99 districts elected supporters of the Government, and 123 more or less Progressive candidates. Yesterday the small landed proprietors elected their representatives in the Government of Moscow; out of 100 candidates returned 20 Constitutional Democrats only were elected. Yesterday also, in St. Petersburg, elections were held among the working men of the factories. This led to nothing, since the working men boycotted the proceedings. The first peasant who was chosen as a delegate for his district in the Government of Moscow was arrested on the 13th inst. It happened like this: The peasants met to elect a representative. Amongst them there was one man who, without having any definite political convictions, was able to make a fair speech. He was unanimously elected. The police, who were present, confronted with this apparently unforeseen contingency (that some one would be elected), and in doubt as to what to do, arrested him. He protested, saying that he had been unanimously chosen as the people’s delegate. “Oh!” said the police, “you are a _kreekòon_, are you? The Circular of the Minister of the Interior tells us to arrest all _kreekòons_; to prison you go.” A _kreekòon_ means a person who is turbulent, who cries out, objects, or makes any kind of disturbance. So arrested he was. The peasants, left without a candidate, thought that this time they would elect some one who could not possibly be accused of being a _kreekòon_, so they chose a very old man over ninety years of age. This man, although admirably fitted by the suavity of his demeanour to fulfil the necessary conditions, could neither read nor write, nor even hold a pen so as to scratch his mark. So he was disqualified. In his place another octogenarian, who still had strength enough left in his palsied fingers to scratch a mark on paper, was chosen. In other districts the peasants, hearing of this proceeding, elected the village elder or the policeman so as to avoid possible trouble. This, however, is against the rules, so they had to fall back on octogenarians. In mills and factories the employers encourage this plan so as to avoid friction with the authorities. It is perhaps fair to add that the elections are probably not in all cases so farcical as they are made out to be.