Images of favourite saints are set up with
golden halos round their heads, and encased
in frames of gold. The Apostles and primitive
fathers of the church are all there, in
vestments thickly plated with the precious
metals, and with crowns and crosiers lavishly
encrusted with gems. These sacred images
and pictures are mostly made at the holy city
of Kiev, a place to which pilgrimages are made
by the Russians of orthodox faith, as they were
made by the Catholics of the middle ages to
Jerusalem, and as they are now made by the
Mahomedans to Mecca. On the first
dedication of the church a deputation of the
elders of the village is sent to Kiev to purchase
an image of the patron saint selected.
Incredible prices are readily paid for such an image.
Eighty or a hundred pounds may be raised
in the poorest hamlet to buy one, although
probably not a fourth of the sum could be obtained
to save the whole community from annihilation.
Perhaps Russia is the only Christian country
in the world where men are demonstratively
religious, and fond of ostentatious church-going.
The Spaniards, the Portuguese, the Italians,
have splendid churches, and a magnificent
priesthood; but their daily church-goers are
almost all women. Whereas in Russia, for one
woman in a church may be seen fifty men. The
outward show and demonstration of religious
feeling enters into every action of the life of
a Russian. He crosses himself more often than
the Catholic, and at times and in circumstances
which would appear to the Catholic unseemly
and even sacrilegious. Gorgeous also as are
the Russian churches, they stand nearly always
open on week days as well as Sundays and saints'
days. No man thinks of a particular dress, nor
a fixed time for going to church. But poor, half-
clad, over-wrought fellows will go miles out of
their way to cast themselves in their rags and
dirt on the pavement before the magnificent
altar, and press their lips and foreheads to the
stone in the extremity of their pious humiliation.
They are so fond of their church, that
nearly half the year is consumed in religious
feasts and fasts, during which all labour and
business is entirely stopped, both in town and
country. Any Russian who might venture to
infringe the usages consecrated by tradition on
these holy days, would hardly be suffered to
escape with his life in places remote from the
few great cities. It is curious to record, that
although the vestments of the orthodox Greek
priests are surprisingly grand and costly,
although their spiritual authority is almost
unlimited, and they are often the only members
of the community among which they live who
can read or write, the priests themselves are
not respected, and are ill paid. They are
extraordinarily superstitious and ignorant. They
associate only with the peasantry, and as a
class are said by the landlords to be
troublesome, meddlesome, and litigious. They are
suffered to marry, and their calling had
gradually become hereditary till a few weeks ago.
The bishops and superior clergy of the Greek
church are chosen entirely from among the
monks.

The only remaining exception to the distressing
appearance of a Russian village is the trim
cottage of the land agent. It looks like
a rich English citizen's villa dropped down by
enchantment in the midst of a barren
wilderness. It is substantially and even elegantly
built. It has hot-houses, stabling, coach-houses,
and a great deal of smart new paint about it.
The traveller whose carriage may have broken
down in the frost-bound rut a yard deep before
the door, will probably see, if he look upward,
a queer and unexpected sight. This will be a
lady and gentleman—or perhaps, though seldom,
the former only—industriously posing themselves
in a romantic and picturesque attitude at
the window to attract his attention. If
familiar with those highly ornamental engravings
in the book of Fashions, he will perceive to
his amazement that the lady, and not
unfrequently the gentleman, are dressed in the
last new toilet described and illustrated in
Le Follet or the Livre Rose: dressed,
indeed, perhaps hastily, and for the surprising
occasion of the coming of a civilised man into
this desert, but nevertheless beyond question
so arrayed. The lady with the last new fan,
the gentleman with the last new cane, both
held perseveringly in the last new attitude, with
a pertinacity quite wonderful. If the stranger
should be further detained by his carriage-
wheels having caught fire, and a general
dislocation of springs, as will probably be the
case, he may have the opportunity of improving
his acquaintance with this strange couple;
and he will find, to his ever increasing
bewilderment, that their manners are even more
surprising than their appearance. They will
come down to him, and frankly accost him,
if an Englishman, with some such words
as: "Makeshakehands! whataclok?" all strung
together. But if they find that he can speak
French, they become instantly voluble, and both
talk together, till there is a dispute between
them, in which both appeal to the traveller
for his decision. Then they suddenly recollect
their fashionable manners again, and affect to
treat the dispute lightly. These fashionable
manners are the bane and ridicule of Russia.
In fact, they are acquired, chiefly if not entirely,
from French novels and fashion books, the
sole mental food of the upper classes of
Russian country people. Thus their conversation
will be carried on for hours in the style of
the latest popular French author. Sometimes
they will use his very language, without a precise
idea of its meaning; and if he have coined
any new word particularly objectionable, it is
sure to turn up in their discourse. The subject
of this talk is not less curious than its style. The
first effort of the speakers is an ardent endeavour
to disconnect themselves from everything and
everybody around them. They would like it to
be believed that they have just arrived from
Paris, and are about to return to Paris
immediately. The slightest encouragement would