"Yes; our priests are all destroyed; the heavenly gift is lost, and we are wandering in the desert without a guide. This is our trial. Our bishops have all died off; we can not consecrate a priest; the consecrating power is in the devil's camp." "How can you get back this gift?" "By miracle; in no other way. The priesthood came by miracle; by miracle it will be restored." "In our own day?" "No; we do not hope it. Miracles come in an age of faith. _We_ are not worthy of such a sign. We have to walk in our fathers' ways; to keep our children true; and hope that they may live into that better day." "You think the Orthodox rite will be overthrown?" "In time. In God's own time His kingdom will be restored; and Russia will be one people and one Church." "What would you like the Government to do?" "We want a free Church; we want to walk with our fathers; we want our old Church discipline; we want our old books, our old rituals, our old fashions; we want to read the Bible in our native tongue." "Are the Old Believers all of one mind about these points?" "Ha, no! There are Old Believers and Old Believers. In the north we are pretty nearly of one mind; in the south they are divided into two bodies, if not more. The Government is active in Moscow; Moscow being our ancient capital; and most of the traders in that city Old Believers. Ministers are trying to win them over to the Orthodox Church. Visit the Cemetery of the Transfiguration near Moscow; there you will see what Government has done." Let us follow Fedor's hint. CHAPTER XXX. CEMETERY OF THE TRANSFIGURATION. Four or five miles from the Holy Gate, beyond the walls of Moscow, in a populous suburb, near the edge of a pool of water, lies a field containing multitudes of graves--the graves of people who were long ago struck down by plague. This field is fenced with stakes, and part of the inclosure guarded by a wall. Within this wall stand a hospital and a convent; hospital on your left, convent on your right. A huge gateway, built of stones from older piles, and quaintly colored in Tartar panels, opens in your front. Driving up to this gate, we send in our cards--a councillor of state, an English friend, and myself--and are instantly admitted by the chief.