The Montgomery advertiser., 1903-02-01

degree only than Lhas ssa itself. Moscow, Holy M ,scow.' lies under the benedic- ton of national tradition that suffuses its very atmosphere. At every corner you see knceling figures. men and women laying with their hands on their hearts or lifting their eyes to a shrine or lying quite prostrate upon the pavement, their toreheads abased in the dust.
 The whole life of the city passes daily through the churches. with their dim and narrow interiors. half Byzantine and half Chinese. Pilgrims in rags and black-gowned nuns line up the approaches to the cathedrals, and their pious sent ences uttered in gentle tones. keep up q plaintive murmur like a babble heard in q dream. At midnight I have seen hum dreds of women seated on the curbstones of an open court ia front of the chapel of the Virgin of Siberia, some of them asleep on each others shoulders or in each others arms. and the full moon shining down upon them through the tow CTS of the Kitai-Gordi Giate--a picture in- stnct with the mystery of the night and with the haunting quality of faith satr isfyingly and pathetica1ly personal. It is the old. unchanging Russia that one meets in Moscow.
 He Besides the Kremhn itself and perhaps
 the pink Forbidden City of Cathay. it | is probable that only the Alhambra so combines religious and historical memo ries with an architecture that adequately expresses them both. If Moscow is the heart of Russia. the Krenlin is the heart Of Moscow. Almost everything that is significant and notable in the Russian
 story goes back to that group of palaces. churches, convents and monasteries that lies under glittering domes and mi narets within the tower-guarded, Tartar battlemented two mile wall of the inner city. These buildings stand out on the hill. and something of the effect of a national fame invests them. When you enter the Kremlin by the Gate of the Redeemer you must uncover. whether you will or no. and it Is better to remove your hat by whatever gate you may ap- proach.
 Within fiocks of sacred pigeons wheel overhead and scarce will make way for you as tEey feed on the path before you. Here are the great broken bell weighing 4i,OOO pounds. made of base and precious
 metals. costing $2ooo.oo0: the queen of cannons. mighty cast iron cylinder. cu- rfously wrought without; the hundreds Of cannon abandoned by Napoleon in his l retreat from Russia the tower of Ivan the Great; the church where the ancient Czars are buried: the church where the Czars are still crowned: the palace of the | reignng Romanoffs with it's deep rose facades in which the Renaissance for the once is perfectly welded to the art of the Moor; and the sacred themes in the Russian story. And bout them all is the old Tartar wall, in red-brown brick. with yellow autumn flowers and tufts of wire grass starting from the crevices of it's green-tiled towers
 Perspective Beauty a Revelation. In perspective the beauty of Moscow comes as surprise. a revelation. a haunting and never-to-be forgotten vision
 The city is rudely. almost wretchedly paved, and in detail some of it's coloring is seen to be crude. But when you view it from height you almost gasp with delight and wonder. It is no real city. you could well believe, on which the hand of man has labored. It is dream city that arose like another Aladdins palace and win fade as quickly.
 In staring at its domes and towers and gardens the mind stirs with recoIlect,ons or Turner s imaginative canvases of dead cities. whereof only & single broken col umn in some dreary pasture field of the Campagna Is now standing, with mem.
 
 roun Alraschid.' with half-foreotten childhood pictures of the embowered and blessed city whither the steps of good men tend. Seen from the hill of the kremlin. the beauty of Moscow is almost unearthly. In some Mohammedan's par adise you could have imagined such a city. with its ghostly white walls. its domes of gold. it's deep blue minarets. it's palc-green roofs and alL about it the cool dark green foliage that shades the gar dens of delight-1o weary. crowded, clam orous city. in which men labor for their little hour. but beautiful and vast vil- iage of emerald turf and waving trees and phantom masonry in which they could rest and dream forever. It startles you to find that such a city may be reality.
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