black coat was to be seen. The parquet was entirely filled with gentlemen, and was one mass of gorgeous color. Uniforms, orders, decorations, gold and silver lace, swords, and bald heads, were mingled in a wonderful manner. For once the other sex rivalled ours in brilliancy of attire. Not a shoulder without a bright ribbon across it, indicating the order of St. Alexander, or St. Vladimir, or Saint Somebody Else.
"If all those ribbons were taken off, and pieced together," I exclaimed, "they would stretch round the world."
The gentlemen's costumes were so elaborate that I sighed to think how much time must have been spent in the arrangement of them. The parquet was a living and continually moving mass of gold, silver, and bright colors.
The row of boxes which surrounded this was filled with ladies,—fans, flashing jewels, white arms and necks, and rich dresses. The great imperial box was empty. On the right of it were those reserved for the diplomatic corps. The representatives of different countries seemed trying to rival each other in splendor of dress,—always excepting the American minister, who on these state occasions is conspicuous by his plain black dress, and absence of decorations. There were the Chinese, in yellow, two of them wearing large spectacles; there were Persians wearing the black, and Turks the red, fez,—each nationality in a different, gay uniform.
On the left of the imperial box not a gentleman was
