class carriages than in French or British third class, or in the ordinary coaches of American trains. As regards hotels, I can only say that of the six countries I passed through on my way to the Black Sea, Finland was by far the best. Even in Viborg there are some luxuriously comfortable hotels-in the German style, it is true, but efficiently conducted, if subject to midnight potations.

E

III

ON THE GULF OF FINLAND

THE line of Soviet Russia, writ in water, traverses Lake Ladoga. All the approaches from Finnish territory are in a military zone. Foreigners must obtain permits from the Governor of Viborg. Russians living within the zone are rarely allowed to leave it; few fresh Russians are allowed to come in from other parts. Although Finland has recognised Soviet Russia (and one remarks the handsome new Consulates of the U.S.S.R.) there is little intercourse. The Finnish Government, a "coalition of bourgeois parties," has to fight a strong Communist and Social-Democratic tendency in its own masses, and is naturally cautious in its relations with Moscow. Dislike of Russians has survived freedom from Russia, and may take an age to disappear.

"Do you speak Russian?" I asked of one. "I hate them," he answered.

"You have had political trouble?" I ventured, somewhat disconcerted.

"Do not speak to me about them. It is a painful subject," he replied slowly.

The Finnish national movement develops strongly, even, I think, now partly at the expense of the Swedish element. National costumes multiply. The blue and white flag flies everywhere, even on the tables of restaurants; Suomi, the Finns' name for their country, figures everywhere. The new Finnish army is considerably on parade.

Parades of soldiers with music are characteristic of the new Finland. One frequently stops to watch detachments pass. The new army has a rather German look. Riflemen on the march generally wear the German steel helmet, coalscuttle type. They look a somewhat stubborn and effective soldiery. Before the war the Finns were exempted from compulsory military service, a money payment being made to the central Government. There were excellent Finnish officers, and some regiments, but they were voluntarily obtained. But independence has brought its greater responsibilities, and Finland is now forced by circumstances to keep a rather substantial army. I am told there is considerable

jealousy between the newer German - trained officers and the Finnish officers of the old Russian army. Finland now wavers in her fondness for the Germans. The Swedish element in Finland, however, strongly supports the Jäger. The Finnish national element is more strongly attached to its Russian-trained officers. In the restaurants, in the cafés and hotels, one sees officers in uniform and wearing their swords. The officer has social esteem and social authority even among civilians. I observed that some of the ex-Finnish Guard officers retained their Russian decorations, even their Georgian crosses.

While these Russian officers speak Russian, it must not be thought that they use it. Everything Russian is under a cloud. But in case of war with Soviet Russia their knowledge would be useful.

"The Russians are, unhappily, our neighbours," said a Foreign Office representative to me.

"Our neighbours are always unhappily' our neighbours," I thought. It is "neighbours" and unhappiness over neighbours that occupies most of our thought nowadays.

Finland has a long Russian frontier, from the borders of the Arctic almost to within sight of the former capital of Russia. In the north she seeks to conciliate her blood-brothers, the Karelians ;

in the south she keeps an army ready in case the old enemy should attack her. In the north there is always the ultimate chance of Finland gaining Murmansk; in the south, with masses of Russian emigrants on the one hand and Red Guards on the other, there is the chance still of invasion. In a brochure for the information of travellers I see the new Finland described as "one of the bulwarks of Europe against the barbaric East".

The greater part of the Russian emigrant population is banked up against the Soviet line. There are many thousands waiting there, and if ever that line gives way they will bounce into Petrograd at once. They suffer severe disabilities at the hands of the Finns, and whatever their previous estate they are nearly all manual labourers now. Some are painfully ill and poverty-stricken, but all live on hope.

I had been asked by a ruined Russian landowner to look up his villa on the Gulf of Finland. He had a property there on Finnish territory, if only it could be disposed of. With that in view I visited Terioki and Kuokkala, and walked along the Soviet line beyond Rajajoki. On the shores of the Gulf there are thousands of ruined villas. I arrived about ten one evening at the almost deserted station of Kuokkala. No cabs, no