Excerpt: ... little more than two years, I noticed many changes but none greater than in the public opinion in regard to the administration. On the way across Siberia, I met with many Russians, some of whom were army officers, and one and all bitterly criticized the government for its mismanagement of the war, for the betrayal of Russia as they called it, for its incompetency, and general worthlessness. At the capital, it was the same, everywhere, street, car, and public places, the government was denounced; there was no attempt at concealment. In the archives where I worked, which are almost under the very nose of the imperial family, the criticism was as open as in private homes. In fact there was no exception. When mention was made of the Court, of Rasputin, and of the Empress, there was a kind of a painful smile; it was not a subject that self-respecting patriotic Russians liked to talk about in public or before strangers; it was like dirty linen that ought not to be hung out for public view. There was reason enough and suffering enough to justify the complaining. Petrograd was overcrowded owing to the thousands of refugees who had been driven there, rooms and apartments were difficult to find and very expensive, and the cost of living had gone up so high that it was hard for the poor to make ends meet. It was almost impossible to get about in the city, as the war had reduced the number of cabs and the few that did business asked such exorbitant fares that only the rich could afford to ride in them. The street car situation was in a hopeless tangle. Even before the war there were not enough accommodations for the public, but since the opening of hostilities many of the cars had broken down and there were no mechanics to repair them and no new cars to replace them. At a time when the population increased, the transportation facilities decreased. Passengers poured into the cars like a stream, filled the seats, blocked the aisles, jammed the entrance, stood...