chanting of the priests which is of their very essence. Palm Sunday Eve is one of the holiest of the anniversaries observed by the Greek Church; none is more pregnant with symbolism. Prince Gortchakoff, always kind, invited me to attend the evening service in his chapel. It was a singularly impressive ceremonial, not, of course, so steeped in tragic emotion as those which would follow later in the week, for symbolically we were celebrating a joy, not a death—the triumphant procession when the people shouted, Hosanna to the Son of David, welcoming with loud acclaim the entry of their King into His capital, “coming in the name of the Lord.” The first striking feature of the holy rite was the bringing in of a small table upon which were set out vessels containing oil, wine, grain and five loaves typifying the five barley loaves with which the Saviour fed the five thousand in the desert place near Bethsaida. Very reverently these were blessed by the priest, who at the same time offered up a prayer to God that oil and wine and grain might not fail His people during the ensuing year. The great moment was when the palm branches were produced, carried in a huge pot to be blessed, sprinkled with holy water, and incensed with the fumes of consecrated spices and gums. To each of the congregation a taper was given by an attendant, and one of the newly-blessed palm branches was handed by the officiating priest to each of us. The priest then entered the Holy of Holies, _Sviataia Sviatuich_, by the Doors of the Lord, and we symbolically followed the Son of David on his royal progress. The Gospel was read, the blessing delivered, and the service, which had lasted two hours, during which we remained standing, was at an end. None but a consecrated priest may cross the threshold of the Doors of the Lord or enter the _Sviataia Sviatuich_. The crazy Emperor Paul once received a just rebuke from the Metropolitan for wishing to break this law. The Emperor stands much in the same relation to the Orthodox Church in Russia as the King of England does to our Church. He is the Head, that is, the eldest son, of the Church, but he cannot officiate or even vote in the Synod. The Emperor Paul, however, wished, as Head of the Church, himself to conduct the service. Full of religious ardour, he arrived one day by the side door of the altar, and was received by the Metropolitan. The Tsar called for priest’s robes, announced his intention of celebrating the Mass, and prepared to enter the Holy of Holies, when, just as he was about to pass the threshold of the Doors of the Lord, the prelate stood before him, barring the way, and said,“Kneel, sire! This is your place. You may go no further.” The Emperor, to do him justice, took the reprimand well, and the Metropolitan did not suffer for his bold speech. This story is not recorded in history—it is not likely to be; but it was told me by a Russian gentleman of high position, and is a matter of common knowledge.