ur experience. We were looking at the objects of interest in the
Treasury, when I noticed a large, handsomely bound book, flanked by pen
and ink, on a side table. I opened the book, but before I could read a
word an attendant pounced upon me.

"Don't touch that," he said peremptorily.

"Why not? If you do not wish people to look at this collection of
ancient documents,--I suppose that is what it is,--you should lock
it up, or label it 'Hands off!'"

"It is n't ancient documents, and you are not to touch it," he said,
taking the book out of my hands. "It is strictly reserved for the
signatures of _distinguished_ visitors,--crowned heads, royal princes,
ambassadors, and the like."

"Then it does not interest me in the least, and if you would label it to
that effect, no one would care to disturb it," I said.

Very soon afterwards we were joined by one of the powerful officials of
the Kremlin. He had made an appointment to show us about, but was
detained for a few moments, and we had come on alone and were waiting
for him. As we went about with him the attendants hovered respectfully
in the rear, evidently much impressed with the friendly, unofficial tone
of the conversation. When we had made the round with much deliberation,
we excused our official friend to his duties, saying that we wished to
take another look at several objects.

No sooner was he gone than the guardian of the autograph album pounced
upon us again, and invited us to add our "illustrious" names to the
list. I refused; he entreated and argued. It ended in his fairly
dragging us to the table and standing guard over us while we signed the
sacred book. I did not condescend to examine the book, though I should
have been permitted then; but--I know which three royal princes
immediately preceded us.

As I am very much attached to the Russian Church, anything connected
with it always interested me deeply. One of the prominent features of
Moscow is the number of monasteries and convents. The Russian idea of
monastic life is prayer and contemplation, not activity in good works.
The ideal of devout secular life is much the same. To meet the wants in
that direction of people who do not care to join the community, many of
the convents have small houses within their inclosures, which they let
out to applicants, of whom there is always an abundance. The occupants
of these houses are under no restrictions whatever, except as to
observing the hours of entry and ex