The herald., 1894-12-11
CHANTING PRIESTS.
A SERVICE OF SONG NO HEAREH
CAN EVER FORGET.

of Monks Intoning Prayers Tor-the Cxas
| A Magnificent Tomb.
The chant of the priests voices wa
the most striking thing that l encoun
tered in my travels in Russia yeai
ngo. Never in any place have heard
music at all like it. More like the CRY
of some great animal or the moaning
Of a musical wind it seemed than hu-
man tones. Deep, strong, roaring, yet
soft and melodious, it haunted me as
no music had ever done. This intoning,
which forms so important part of the
Greek church in Russia, is performed
by men who are chosen especially fol
the tremendous depth Of their voices.
ing. Trained and cultivated into still
greater strength and depth, there is in
the whole wide world no human sound
like it. - -
There are only certain parts Of the
service that are thus intoned, such q
"Halleluiah," Lord have mercy"
''Lord, we pray thee, "Grant this, @
God," but above all, "Save long, o God,
the life Of the czarr' Over and over
again are these words moaned, sighed
and roared, like varying wind, through
the arches and galleries of the splendid
churches of the most splendid country
of the world
There is priest in the Church Of st.
Saveur in Moscow who was pardoned
and brought back from Siberia solely
because of the extraordinary depth of the
tones of his voice.
These great baying, bull-like voices
bring to their owners, it is said, very
good income. The last part of the serv-
ice is always the loudest, and the last
words, in tremendous final roar, are
always the petition to save long from
death the czar. Unlike the Latin service
of the Roman Catholic church, the COM
mon people of Russia can understand
much of the service Of their church, as
a part of it is in modern Russian and
the rest in old Slavonic Tins that cry
which rings through the churches to
save the life of the czar is understood
and felt by the humblest subject in
Russia.
Although this intoning can be heard
everywhere in the churches throughout
haps in the famous Alexander Nevsky
monastery in St. Petersburg. At 4
o'clock every afternoon the priests chant
can be heard there, and no traveller
should miss this extraordinary spectacle.
In the winter, when the higher classes
are in town, there are long lines of ele-
CANT conveyances at the door, that have
brought the fashionable Russian devo-
tees to hear the monks chant. But at
all times of the year it is resort not
only for Russians, but for the strangers
from the hotels. The monastery is at
the end of the fashionable Nevsky Pros
pekt, the Fifth avenue Of ST. Peters,
burg. In the green inclosure there are
many buildings connected with the
monastery, but it was to the chapel
where the monks chant the evening
service that we first directed our steps
one afternoon late in June. Far back in
the dimness, in chancel behind two
altars, was collection Of large, brawny
men. Their long black robes, high
black velvet caps and long flowing
wells, all Of black, magnified their
height and their imposing appearance.
Their boards were long, and heavy
locks of hair hung like thick names on
their shoulders.
They were already chanting, when
we entered, in those peculiar organlike
tones which I found the most impress
i've thing in Russia How that strange
volume Of sound moaned and rose and
fell throughout the structurel How it
walled in our ears, like mighty wind,
and always, whether loud or soft, in the
saddest, sweetest melodyi There were
half recitative solos, chanted first by
one voice and taken up by the others.
Lord have mercyi' Lord grant iti'
they walled and moaned until it SEEM
ed as if the sound would never again
leave my ears.
After time it ceased, and then the
procession df towering black robed
monks came out into the body of the
chapel, leaving but little room for us
as we crowded ourselves against the
wall. Placing themselves with their
backs toward us and their faces toward
the altar in semicircle, they began
again their chant, in a different and
much louder refrain, "God save long
the life of the emperorl' Never shall !
forget that semicircle Of black monu-
. mental figures nor the waves of sound
that still vibrated on the air after their
voices had ceased.
We turned away and walked across
the green courtyard, where many rich
Russians are buried. All Russians es-
TEEN it sacred privilege to be buried
in the soil surrounding monastery,
and among those who lie here is the
novelist Turgeneff. We traversed nu.
merous cloisters, with new and then
: the tall, black yelled monks passing rs,
until we reached the chapel of Alexan-
der Nevsky, the czar monk who lied
buried here-buried in such tomb az
no other man ever had, for it is of solid
silver, weighing $3.50 pounds. Not
only the sarcophagus but the altar near
which it stands and also the rails which
surround it are of solid silver. A like
ness of the great czar, who was also a
monk, lies on top under sheet of solid
gold Diamonds and rubies gleam in
the sconces that hang here and there,
and the key of Adrianople, framed In
Jewels, hangs near the silver tomb
Strange emingling of austerity withsplen-