The private ikon, or some other sacred picture, always precedes the corpse at the funerals of the orthodox. The obsequies of the wealthy are still conducted with great pomp; the modern practice of hiding the coffin beneath wreaths and crosses being combined with the more austere solemnities of a statelier age. The church of St Sophia, on the south side of the Moskva, opposite the Kremlin, is much used in connection with military funerals and those of a public character. The peasant's coffin is simply covered with a pall, and the bier carried through the streets shoulder-high, with no other pomp than the ikon reverently borne some paces ahead of the cortege. The hands of the dead one are closed over a paper on which is printed a prayer for the repose of his soul, the deceased's baptismal name being written in, and this is the only justification for the assertions of the early writers that "the Russ when he dies hath his passport to Saint Nicholas buried with him." If it is the practice to decorate the ikon with presented jewels, it was not only counted a sin but a crime to take any back again. Collins says that the punishment for so doing was the loss of a hand, as befell a woman "who thought she had but lent to the image" she favoured. With the private ikon "they do as they will, decorating the ikon one day and with the same tawdry themselves the next," an indication that the ignorant peasant may treat his ikon much as the West African negroes treat their fetiches. A common object in Moscow of to-day is the watch-tower or chastok, where night and day sentinels patrol on the look out for fires, not nowadays so frequent or so disastrous as formerly, since the erection of wooden houses within the town limits has been forbidden. In summer, when the signal is run up on the staff, numerous one horse drays, each with a small barrel of water, hurry to the scene and in somewhat primitive fashion attempt to quench the conflagration. If a wooden house the fire usually subsides when the roof with its thick layer of earth between rafters and plates collapses. Dearly paid for experience has taught the Muscovite how the spread of fires may best be stopped where water is scarce and hydrants far distant. Primitive and mediæval in many things, Moscow reveals how the people of long past ages overcame the difficulties incidental to life in large cities, and a great fire will bring together such an array of water carts as will convince the beholder of the very thorough organisation of a department charged with the duty of safeguarding public safety.