Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1883-08-16

The Ceremonies OF O Russian P1lRrHma@e
Co the shrine UR NC. Nicholas.

The Ceremonies OF O Russian PlRrHmaws
60 the shrine OR NC. Nicholas.
In everything that Mrs. Scott-Ste-
venson w :ites, says the London AthO-
nelnp, we find command of language
and descriptive powers far above the
average The writer's energy and en-
durance. too. are happily unimpaired
she has the same decided opinions
likes and dislikes, and, above all, she
holds the same pleasant and unques-
tioning belief that in every emergency
the knot will be united by her husband
Andrews" superior judgment, or sew
cred, in the last resort, by his strong
right arm. He had certainly no sine
cure, escorting a party of ladies' for
whom an encounter with Greek bri-
gands had more attraction than terror.
The summer seas" which lave the
shores on which most of Mrs. Scott
Stevenson's scenes are laid are the
Egean, the Levant, and the Adriatic.
Her opinion of the people of those re-
gions we are probably intended to
gather from the motto prefxed to the
volume, Where every prospect pleases
and only man is vile" She is shocked
at the filth and degradation of the
poorer quarters of Bari but an Ital-
ian traveller might match these in our
large towns. The most degrading
sight she saw in Italy was one with
which the Italians had comparatively
little to do, viz. Russian pilgrimage
to the shrine of st. Nicholas at Bari:
They were all dressed in kind of
uniform the men in gray, barefoot
ed, with STATS slung over their shoul-
ders, on which were tied bundles of
clothes and pair of boots the wom-
en- wore blue serge skirts, gray jackets,
and red handkerchiefs round their
heads, and, like the men, carried bun
dies, with a water-bottle and tin mug,
on their backs. They were all slowly
crawling up the steps with bleeding
knees and torn, travel stained gar
ments, muttering prayers and endless
litanies as they toiled upward. On
entering the church we saw a shocking
sight, so painful that l hesitate to de-
scribe it. Four pilgrims were on their
knees, with their heads bent down 10
the ground in the most unnatural atti
tude, their eyes shut and the swollen
veins standing out like cords from
their crimsoned foreheads. A man
walked ley the side of each, holding one
end Of q handkerchief, while the
wretched penitent held the other, and
was thus guided along the pavement.
For few seconds we did not realize
what was taking place, but as they
crawled onward, we noticed four
marks like dark ribbon behind them,
and it dawned on us that they were
actually licking the floor And such
a floor Thousands of only half-civil-
lied human beings had been in the
church since daybreak, as the tainted
atmosphere but too plainly showed.
For over eighty yards these wretched
creatures kept their tongues on the
rough pavement, over every pollution
that came in their way. We were
chained to our seats by horror and dis
gust, and in spite of ourselves stayed
till they at last reached the altar steps
and were permitted to rise. Their
faces haunt me still the small, cum
ming eyes, turning stealthily towards
us and as hastily turned away half
shamefaced, half-ferocious looks the
coarse, dirt-smeared features, the mat
ted heads of hair, and the lolling, lace
rated tongues bleeding over their
chins. And these were fellow-crea-
lures, these benighted wretches, look
ing like scared wild beasts.