The Siberians dance a great deal; balls are frequent and very elegant, but they rarely take place in private houses. In every city there are generally two clubs, the club of the _noblesse_ and the club of the _bourgeoisie_, to either of which one is invited to come and pass the evening, according to his position, the _noblesse_ being composed of the Government functionaries and the other of traders.
The day after my arrival at Krasnoiarsk, I was invited to a ball at the club of the _noblesse_. The functionaries not being numerous in this city, they had invited a few of the commercial class, and particularly some Polish exiles. A ball of convicts seemed to be something incongruous, but it would be an error to suppose that the Poles exiled in Siberia are at present all ill-treated, and that they while away their time in weeping for their beloved country. When I come to Irkutsk, I shall have occasion to speak more fully of the fate of the Polish exiles in Siberia. But now, here in Krasnoiarsk, nearly all were members of good society. Their political opinions, like those of all Poles I have met, are, it is true, extremely advanced. They had not only taken part in their war of independence, but had been nearly all implicated in insurrections beyond the borders of their country; they admired our violent French demagogues, and found excuses for our Commune; but in spite of these preposterous opinions, which ignorance of contemporary history and distance from the scene of action may have rendered excusable, I found at Krasnoiarsk a society of enlightened Poles and perfectly well-bred men. As they formed the majority, the ball was quite _à la mode polonaise_, and it is a kind of dancing, in my opinion, that ought to survive for ever their lost nationality. One never steps as in an ordinary walk. To proceed from one side to another, it is necessary to adopt the step called _la polonaise_, rather difficult to master, it is true, but which is, undoubtedly, very graceful. The consequence is that in these dances, and especially the _cotillon_, there is a liveliness that is never seen in our salons, considered the gayest in the world. As another proof of the knowledge which the Russians and Poles have of our language, I will merely observe that here, in this city lost in the depth of Siberia, when the ball was over and we sat down to supper, a very numerous party spoke no other language than French.