seen. The columns which support the roof are of
grey and red granite, and their bases and capitals are gilt; there are
long rows of them in each cross. Banners, tattered, blackened, and
pierced by many a bullet, taken from the enemies of Russia, hang from
the walls. Some ceremony was going forward. A fat, cunning Shylock, in
spectacles, sat at a counter just inside the entrance, and sold
wax-tapers to men and women, old and young, bearded officers and thin
striplings. The votaries then advanced and bowed and crossed
themselves. Some were so devout as to kneel down and kiss the horribly
dirty floor, on which beggars were spitting. Harry and I felt much
inclined to kick over one young fellow so employed close to us, and who
looked as if he ought to have known better. Having genuflected to their
heart's content, they advanced to the altar, and stuck their tapers into
a frame on a huge candlestick placed before some saint or other. One
saintship, who appeared to be a great favourite, had got his candlestick
inconveniently full, but an old soldier--evidently in charge of the
altar, and to whom some votaries presented their tapers--while
pretending to stick in one took the opportunity to slip out four or five
others, so that there was always room for more. I suspect the old
soldier and Shylock were in league with each other, and that the same
tapers did duty many times. I am grateful that I was not brought up in
the Greek Church. Cousin Giles says we ought to be thankful that we are
Englishmen and Protestants.

"The Monday before we left, some friends invited us to a picnic in
Finland, the borders of which are distant only a fair drive from Saint
Petersburg. We started early and drove in a northerly direction past a
number of wooden villas of every conceivable Swiss-cottage style, very
picturesque and very damp, of trees and canals and ponds, to the village
of Mourina, fifteen versts off, where our friends have a villa. The
property belongs to Prince Woronzoff, who was brought up in England; but
instead of following the example of our good landlords, he imitates the
bad ones, and allows his cottages to get into a very tumble-down
condition. They are built of wood, so the lower part becomes rotten,
and the rest sinks. Were they placed on foundations of stone, they
would last far longer. They now offer no unfit epitome of the state of
Russia. Our friend's villa was very pretty, with all sorts of
Chinese-looki