“They do not believe in holy church nor in the sacred _ikon_ as they once did.” (The _ikon_ on the altar of this monastery was believed to have worked many wonders.) “What the church needs is some miracle to restore the faith of the peasants,” and the monk seems very sad, probably because he would rather sit down comfortably at home than walk the muddy Russian roads begging alms. “Why do you deceive the peasants?” says the indignant student. “You know your sacred _ikon_ never cured anybody, nor worked any miracle. I will give you the dynamite if you will blow it up.” The monk admits the _ikon_ worship is a fraud and says finally after a long discussion, “I will place the dynamite under the image and blow it up.” When the time comes to explode the dynamite, the monk is afraid and confesses the plot to the Abbot. “Let us blow up the altar,” says the Abbot; “we can say the anarchists did it, but we will first remove the _ikon_ and then tell the people a miracle was wrought—the altar was destroyed, but the image was saved.” [Illustration: The Home of a Russian Peasant] [Illustration: A Russian _Moujik_ and His Family] So the altar is blown up after the priest has removed the image. The people are told it is a marvelous miracle and the church is crowded again, each peasant not forgetting to leave his copeck, half a cent, as he departs. After the explosion, the student says, “I will go to the monastery and when the great crowds of peasants are coming out of the chapel I will tell them just how great a fraud the latest miracle is.” So he goes and tells the people how grossly the monks are deceiving them and that it was his plan that destroyed the altar. Do the people believe him? Oh, no. They believe what the priests tell them and they are so angry with the young informer for saying he blew up the altar and for trying to open their eyes that they kill him. “But,” some one says, “we have been looking at and hearing only a play.” Yes, that is true, but it is a true play, for all you saw actually happened in Russia, and it is the deception of such monks that has made so many Russians hate the church and hate God. You noticed how the audience leaned forward in their seats, each seeing in that picture his own story, the forces that drove him far from his fatherland. You also remember what the interpreter said at a great burst of applause, the greatest of the night, when we asked, “What was that for?” “Why,” said the interpreter, “you will be surprised to know what they are applauding. In reply to the question as to who was his most bitter enemy, the actor has just said, ‘My greatest enemy is God; through God and the church come all my troubles.’” It is the duty and the privilege of the Christians of America to introduce these Russians to a true church, and to instruct them in the knowledge of the true God. V OUR ITALIAN NEIGHBOR