play. From every point streets diverge irregularly, winding outward
till they intersect the inner and outer boulevards. These boulevards
are large circular thoroughfares, crossing the Moskwa River above and
below. They are well planted with trees, and have spacious sidewalks
on each side; but, unlike the boulevards of Paris, are only dotted at
irregular intervals with houses. To the eastward lies the Katai Gorod,
or Chinese City, and to the westward the Beloi Gorod, or White City.

Isolated in a great measure from the various quarters of the city,
Russian and Tartaric, by the gardens, the large open spaces, the
markets, and the river, the Kremlin looms up high over all in solitary
grandeur--a mass of churches, palaces, and fortifications, surmounted
by the tower of Ivan Veliki, which stands out in bold octagonal relief
against the one with its numerous bells swung in the openings of the
different stages, thundering forth the hours of the day, or tolling a
grand chorus to the chanting of innumerable priests in the churches
below. Approaching the Spass Vorota, or Gate of the Redeemer, through
which none can enter save with uncovered heads--such is the veneration
in which this Holy Gate is held by all classes--we witness a strange
and impressive spectacle. Over this wonderful gate, incased in a frame
covered with glass, stands the holiest of all the pictured relics of
this sacred place, a painted figure of the Savior, emblazoned with
gilding, and with a lamp swung in front, which burns night and day, as
it has burnt since the days of Ivan the Terrible. Before this sacred
image all true believers bow down and worship. While the great bells
of the tower are booming out their grand and solemn strains, it is a
profoundly impressive spectacle to witness the crowds that gather
before this holy shrine, and bend themselves to the earth--the rich
and the poor, the decorated noble and the ragged beggar--all alike
glowing with an all-pervading zeal; no pretense about it, but an
intense, eager, almost frantic devotion. Many a poor cripple casts his
crutches aside, and prostrates himself on the paved stoneway, in the
abandonment of his pious enthusiasm. Men and women, old and young,
kneel on the open highway, and implore the intercession of the
Redeemer. From the highest officer of state to the lowest criminal, it
is all the same. The whole crowd are bowing down in abject
humiliation, all muttering in earnest tones some prayer or appeal