paintings on the walls. One, I recollect, was that of the whale throwing Jonah out of his belly upon the dry land; where a group of illshapen figures called children, were waiting to

lin, whose turrets and battlements look down
upon us, to remind us of the Tartar invasions
they have sustained, and the victories they have
brought to the Russian Tsars; and before
us is a building which a painter only can de-receive poor Jonah.
scribe. I bought a picture of it, and you should
see it to understand the original. It is called
the Cathedral of St. Basil; and, as you look at
it, you can only wonder how the ingenuity of
man could have contrived such an odd-looking
cluster of towers and domes; and I must tell
you, before I go on, its history. It was built
in about the year 1554, by order of Ivan the
Terrible, in gratitude for a victory gained over
the Khan of Kazan. It is related that the
architect was an Italian. John (or Ivan), was
pleased with the work; and he called for the
architect to pay him his money. He asked the
latter if it were possible for him to build a
more beautiful church if he was paid a higher
sum?
The Italian replied that he thought he
could. He had no sooner pronounced the
words, than the Tsar ordered him to be seized,
and his eyes to be put out! "Now," said the
tyrant, "I know that you cannot make a church
that will surpass St. Basil."

The foundation of this edifice is of an oblong, square form, and from its centre arises a high, octagonal steeple or spire, with a large base, but small at its termination, over which is a small gilt ball, surmounted by a simple gilt cross. On the north and south, and east and west of this central spire, rises a similar octagonal spire, greatly inferior in height, and surmounted by very large, variously painted and ornamented heads or domes, on which are placed gilt balls, all furnished with simple gilt crosses. In the space between the central tower and the above four towers, arise other four smaller, similar towers, ornamented in the same style; so that around the central spiretower, you find eight towers, forming a species of octagon. Every one of the domes of the towers is unlike the others, and is differently painted and ornamented, and the painting is extremely unique. This famous building was erected in such a manner, that service might be performed in different parts of it at the same time; and it will astonish you when I tell you, that at this time twenty-one temples or places of worship are associated together, in which divine service may be celebrated at the same time! So much for the exterior of St. Basil, which, in vulgar parlance, resembles a cluster of beautiful pepper-boxes.

The whale was as ugly a

looking monster of the finny tribe as I ever beheld; and if the picture was a correct representation of the whales of Ivan the Terrible's time, they have improved in appearance wonderfully in this our day and generation. Many of the walls were also adorned with paintings of flowers, drawn and coloured after the fashion of the picture I have just described. The church has two stories or floors, and upon each floor an equal number of chapels. It is in this church that I was shown several tombs, which I understood my valet to say, were the tombs of the Tsars previous to Peter the Great. The tomb of "Ivan the Terrible" was pointed out to me; and on it was laid the heavy iron chain, to which an iron cross was suspended, that the Tsar wore constantly around his neck. Both of these, the chain and the cross, must have come from the blacksmith-shop, and at a time when the sons of Vulcan did not know their trade as well as their descendants do now. I observed, also, some other rude iron ornaments which the Tsar wore about him.

In one of the chapels I was shown the image, "the real image," as my guide termed it, of "our holy mother of Casan." Like most of the Russian images, the painting was excessively coarse; a quantity of precious stones encircled her brow, and below the frame of the picture I noticed, tied to a string, a quantity of pieces of gold and silver in the shape of legs, feet, eyes, and indeed almost every part of the human form divine. I asked what they meant; my guide informed me that, centuries ago, a lady in Moscow had a dream. She had been suffering, a cripple, for many years. She dreamed that a visit to this picture, which was then at Casan, would restore to her the use of her limbs. She repaired to Casan, and she was healed! She brought the image with her to Moscow, and here it has been ever since. And now it is visited with pious veneration by the lame, the halt, and the blind, who leave at the shrine the little trinkets that I have just been speaking of, accordingly as they are affected. I saw, also, in one of the chapels, some teeth, and other old bones of "remarkable saints," which are held in great veneration; for the opportunity of kissing which (for they are usually locked up in a glass case), the deI entered the interior, and found it still more votee must have influence, and no doubt a few curious than without. It is a collection of pieces of gold-the latter given for "pious small passages and chapels, the walls of which uses;" though in reality the coin goes into the are covered with gold, and paintings of saints, priest's pocket. With this faint description of drawn when painting was in a primitive state the Cathedral of St. Basil, I leave the subject in Russia. I noticed, too, several scriptural for the present, perhaps to return to it again;

it certainly is the most remarkable pile I ever beheld. I ought not, however, to leave it without telling you that it was from the main tower of this cathedral, that I beheld for the first time the magnificent panorama of Moscow; the like of which I do not believe can be found upon the globe! But I will not speak of it here; for since Saturday morning, I have had a grander view of Moscow than that seen from St. Basil.

general opinion is, that the wicked Napoleon was reckoned unworthy of passing "the gates of our Saviour," and that his horse, like Balaam's ass, was inspired, and thus rebuked him!! If the pavements in Moscow were no better in 1812 than they are now, I do not wonder that Napoleon's horse stumbled. Through this "Holy Gate," with head uncovered, I passed, and I was now within the tapering towers and battlements of the Kremlin, the great object of my visit to Moscow. Hardly had I entered, and before I had time to look about me, I spied the "Big Bell," and regardless of other scenes around, I proceeded to it at once. It is a mon

cast in the reign of the late Empress Ann, and weighs, they say, 432,000 pounds. Soon after its erection, preparatory to its being hoisted into the belfry of the cathedral, the beam that supported it gave way, and the bell, in its fall, buried itself deep into the earth. Here it remained till 1837, when the present Emperor, justly regarding it as one of the wonders of the world, ordered it to be dug out, and placed upon a granite pedestal, where it now stands by the side of the cathedral. In its fall, a portion of the bell was broken out, and the piece now lies by the side of the pedestal. I found by measurement, that the thickest part of the metal broken out, was nearly the length of my three feet, one put before the other; the base of this piece I also measured in like manner, and found it about eight of my feet in length. The height of the piece broken out, is about seven feet, and through the aperture, two men, six feet high, can walk into the bell without touching either side. The bell, I was told, is about twenty-five feet high. The bell, it is said, cost a very great sum; for every one, ambitious to contribute towards it, threw some gold or silver into the furnaces.

We are once more without the holy precincts of St. Basil, and in the open square, or the "beautiful place," so called, at the extremity of which, the cathedral I have just spoken of stands. In the distance, in front of the cathe-ster, there is no gainsaying it. This bell was dral, we find a monument erected by the Emperor Alexander to Minin and Pojarski, the merchant and the prince who delivered Moscow from a Tartar invasion in the 17th century. It represents the merchant (I believe he was a butcher residing at Novgorod) laying his treasures at the feet of the prince, to enable him to raise his army against the Tartars. I have read of the deeds of both prince and merchant in some book, and only wonder that the monument was not erected by some one of the Czars before Alexander. But enough of the monument. Near to us, on our left, at a distance of one hundred yards, in the centre of the Kremlin walls, rises a lofty white painted steeple, surmounted at its summit by large imperial eagles. A large, arched gateway passes through this steeple to the interior of the Kremlin. Crowds of people are passing in and out at this gate, and many are on their bended knees in reverence and prayer at its threshold, and every person I see has his head uncovered. It is the Spaskiya Vorotui or "Holy Gate." In passing through the Holy Gate, every individual, from serf to Emperor and Czar, having taken off his hat, goes uncovered, and the Russians always stop to cross themselves before the image of the Saviour at the entrance. At this gate are stationed sentinels to remind the foreigner, who is ignorant of the custom, of his duty. Different accounts are given of the origin of this custom, but I doubt not it was a superstition of the dark ages, preserved down to this day. The Russians themselves seem not to have any clear notion on the subject. But you will be told even by intelligent Russians (and I quote the anecdote as illustrative of the existing prejudices) that in 1812, when Napoleon held his residence in Moscow, every time he attempted to pass through the Holy Gate, his horse pranced and fell with him, and always exactly on the same spot! Long after he left Moscow, and even at present, a hollow in the pavement, said to have been made by the violent and indignant stroke of the horse, attracts many spectators.

The

So much for the bell, near which I spied the "monarch gun," the largest cannon ever cast, and another wonder of the world. Its weight is 86,400 pounds. It was cast in 1586, in the reign of Phedor Ivanowitch Gosudar, Autocrat of all the Russias. Its length is sixteen feet; the diameter of its calibre three feet, and it requires fifty pounds of powder to load it. It is placed on the south side of the grand entrance to the arsenal, and so long as Russian superstition shall exist, the gun will probably remain there. I will give you the reason for my belief, by repeating an anecdote which was told me to-day, in regard to this gun. Some one of the "Ivans," (it is of no consequence which Tsar it was,) was about to set out with his army for Casan, to fight the Tartars, and he wished to take the gun along with him. Twenty horses were harnessed to the gun, but it was too heavy, they could not start it. The

late, the service was over.

So, after visiting, This custom of kissing the hand has sometimes.
a very pretty effect. What prettier domestic
sight is there, for example, than that of the old
and young children in a Russian family ap-
proaching their mother, after dinner, and kiss-
ing her hand in thankfulness for the bounty
she has provided them? This custom is still
preserved in every Russian family. The old
gentleman then insisted that I should stop and
break bread with him, and then, at seven
o'clock, accompany him to the church and hear
the monks chant the Saturday evening service.
I readily consented, and soon the servant came
to tell us that tea was ready. We went into a
room adjoining the one leading out on the bal-
cony, and very soon a monk brought us tea
and two little loaves of warm bread upon a
wooden plate. The old prelate then said, “You
see my fare: I asked you to come and break
bread with me, and I can give you nothing but
a bit of my little loaf," and he broke the little
loaf in two, and gave me half. As I said be-
fore, the loaves were warm, about the size of
the little warm bread breakfast biscuits at
home; and I thought of home as I was eating
the half loaf Melchisedec had given me. The
old man then began to talk of America again,
and I astonished him when I told him some
facts in relation to our country. He asked me
if I was married, and to my negative answer
he said, "You must marry, you must marry;
you have my blessing;" and he continued,
"when the present Emperor was married (or
crowned) I gave him one of these little loaves
of bread, with my blessing. His Majesty still
has the loaf, he keeps it under a glass case, and
he told me the other day, when he came to the
Monastery, that it was still fresh. I present
you also with a similar loaf, and with it I give
you my blessing. Preserve the loaf till your
wedding-day, when you must divide it with
your bride." I felt so touched by the old re-
verend's kindness, that I could have fallen
upon his neck. I thanked him over and
over again, and assured him that I should
preserve the little loaf as the apple of my eye.
It was now near seven o'clock, and the diffe-
rent convents and monasteries of Moscow were
waiting to hear the deep tone of the Cathedral
bell in the Kremlin to summon their own bells
to chime their evening hymn. And presently
the sound from the Kremlin came wafted up
to the Monastery, and of a sudden the chimes
of Simeonouskoi were calling the monks to their
service in the church. In about ten minutes
the archimandrate thought we had better set
out for the church. We descended the steps,
and as soon as Melchisedec had reached the
porch of his house, the big bell of the Monas-
tery-the monarch of all the bells in the lofty
tower I have before alluded to, and which till

the churches, and drinking a cup of quass with a monk in one of the rooms adjoining a chapel, we sauntered through the grounds and reached our carriage at the gateway, intending to go home. My valet, however, on our way, remarked, en passant, that the superior of this monastery was a very old and learned man; and that strangers were generally received very kindly by him. So, without a thought, before I got into the carriage, I sent the valet to the old archimandrate's house with my card and compliments. He soon returned, telling me that "Melchisedec" (for that was the name of the old man) would be charmed to see me. I immediately mounted the steps that led to his quarters, and, after waiting a moment in the reception-room, was received by the old gentleman, who approached me with both hands extended, and begged me to be seated. He was a man of about seventy years of age, and has been in the monastery over thirty years. He was habited in the monk's costume, a flowing black robe, with a black, inverted sugar-loaf hat upon his head. His snow-white beard extended down over his breast, and around his neck he wore a massive gold chain, to which was suspended in front a heavy cross, composed of amethyst, emerald, and diamond; a present, he afterwards told me, from the Emperor Nicholas. In his hand he carried a string of amber beads. He was short, and of very full habit. After we had been talking a moment, he proposed that we should go and sit out on the balcony of his house, and which hangs over the road, the view from which I have just been describing. I of course consented, and again had an opportunity of feasting my eyes on the panorama of Moscow, which, like Niagara, increases in interest and beauty at every visit. Here we became much engrossed in conversation. He asked me all kinds of questions about America, and told me a good many anecdotes about himself; gave me an account of a visit he received from the Emperor during his late visit to Moscow; had a good deal to say of the Emperor Alexander, &c. I seemed to have made a very good first impression on the kindhearted old man, and repeatedly did he press my hand and bless me. At last he sent his servant to bring him a present for me, which he wished me to keep as a souvenir of "Melchisedec." It is a book written by the archimandrate, giving a history of the Monastery, and also the author's life. He wrote my name and his own in the book and then presented it to me, together with six large engravings, giving different views of the Monastery. Of course I felt much flattered by the old man's kindness, and could not refrain from following the Russian custom of always kissing the donor's hand!