Ekaterinburg is a distributing centre for the Bible Society, and their agent--earnest, energetic, and capable--is one of the best-known and respected Englishmen in Siberia. He it was who had prepared for my coming, arranged for me to stay with Mr. and Mrs. Yates, and invited every one within reach--"I've sounded the big drum," he said--and with governesses, English wives of Russians, a young fellow and his wife teaching roller-skating, and one or two others--some having travelled long distances to get there--we must have numbered about thirty in all. They prepared a little temporary altar in the large drawing-room, with an _ikon_, flowers, etc., and we had Holy Communion, a morning and evening service, our dinner and supper together, and a priceless experience of the unity which thankfulness and fellowship always bring with them when realized in common prayer and worship. From Ekaterinburg I went a day's journey to another town, in a part of the country to which very few English travellers ever go, and there the small community consisted of one family only, though they were three generations. We were only a dozen altogether, and some might think it was hardly worth taking up a bishop's time for three days to go and see one family. But the head of that family had been there between forty and fifty years, and never had our Church's service during that time, nor received Communion. The grandchildren had never seen or heard the service before, and they were the children of a Russian father, attending a Russian school. I made my address simple so that they could understand it, knowing that the others could if the children did, and I had one or two opportunities of conversation with them, which they greatly welcomed. Late at night I left, all the party accompanying me to the station to see me off; and after we had said, "Good-bye," and they had left, the mother of those children came back quietly and said:-- "Bishop, I felt I must come back just to tell you this. In the winter, after having tried so long to keep my boy and girl English in their ideas, I felt hopeless and gave up the struggle; but I want you to know that in the service to-day I've had the strength and courage given me to begin again." [Illustration: _The British Community at Atbazar, Siberia, after Morning Service during the Bishop's Visit._] Is it not worth while to have a travelling chaplain go about and find such experiences as that waiting for him in many places? Can any one possibly think that those who have to live on the Continent of Europe, because of some fanciful ideas of intrusion upon the jurisdiction of another Church, should be deprived of the services of their own, and find, as they inevitably do find, that they are ever accepting for themselves a lowered standard and a dimmer ideal?