During the Crimean war complaint was made to the Emperor that the English chaplain in Moscow offered prayers every Sunday that Queen Victoria might be victorious over all her enemies, and the Emperor replied that the chaplain might pray for the Queen or anybody else. In the city of Moscow there are three hundred and seventy churches of the Greek faith, two Roman Catholic, and four Protestant; of these four, two are for those who worship in the German language, one French, and one English. On the Sabbath I attended the Greek service in the St. Basil Cathedral. The crowd was so vast that multitudes were unable to get within the doors. A narrow door at the side yielded to the touch, and the sacristan received us as strangers and conducted us into the holy place where the priests were performing service. A choir of five—two old men, two young men, and a boy—made the responses and sang parts of the service with an energy and power that was exciting and astonishing as we stood by them and saw the effort they made to give effect to their utterances. The devotion of the crowded auditory was affecting. If one may judge of emotion by what he sees of people worshipping in a strange language, he must believe that these are truly devout, and deeply impressed with the services in which they are earnestly engaged. It is Trinity Sunday. Wagon loads of green branches of trees are carried through the streets for sale. Every house, shop, shrine, church, and station is adorned with evergreens; windows and doors are garlanded; the humblest house in the poorest quarter we passed through had its sprig of green, and where the poverty of the person prevented any display, it was evident that no one was ashamed to do what he could in honor of the day. The women and children carried flowers, the lily of the valley seeming to be the favorite; and bunches of it were constantly offered for sale, by those who would do a little business for themselves and help the rest to worship after their fashion. We went up the Kremlin to the Archangel Cathedral. Thousands on thousands of people, a countless multitude, were standing around the Ivan Tower and the big bell, unable to gain entrance into any church, for these were all filled to overflowing by the densest mass of sweltering humanity. Many of this crowd were common and unclean people, like the very poor everywhere; they were ragged, unshod, and dirty. Those in better order had long frock-coats on, reaching to the ground nearly, with high boots over their pantaloons. These crowds were quiet, lounging around as if they had nothing to do and were doing it patiently, but not earnestly. They seemed to me a dull, phlegmatic race, incapable of emotion; but this is a judgment of no great account, for it is not unlikely the Russians may be as easily roused to action, for good or evil, as the Germans or English.