OLD RICHARD. doors, he turned away reluctantly to his own field of work. But fiddling in the streets did not turn out the high road to fortune which Don expected. Some days old Lister managed to bring home a few pence over and above what he had to pay cripple Jack for his guidance. But more often he came back wet through and chilled to the bone, with not enough to buy a small loaf of bread to eke out Mrs. Clack's tea. The little woman never uttered a word of disappointment, though she felt very keenly how great a failure a man is. She knew she could earn something, if not enough, for them all, and Don gave up every penny he could scrape together towards keeping his unfortunate foundlings. If the worst came to the worst, she must break into her little hoard of savings, which she had laid by to keep herself out of the workhouse, as soon as that inevitable day came when she could no longer carry her old-clothes-bag up and down the area steps of her usual patrons. I OLD RICHARD. HAVE often found that friends were much interested in hearing some of my reminiscences of "Old Richard," a man who, thirty years ago, was familiarly known to every one in the parish.* When I told his story once more, a few weeks ago, it was said to me that these things would be lost when I am gone, unless I wrote some notes and sent them for publication. With this suggestion I comply, thinking that these simple records are worth preserving, and that something good may be learned from them. Old Richard was, undoubtedly, a very peculiar man, and I may speak of him without restraint, because I am not aware that he left any near relations behind him. Some who did not know him thought him to be a simpleton, if not insane. But he was not mad, and his words were truth and soberness. He surpassed us all in simple faith, and in nearness to God. Doubtless he was eccentric. He was far from being like most other men. But if you talked with him for ten minutes, yourself knowing what are a Christian's hopes, and the one foundation of his faith, you might have been glad to change places with him. Let me first try to give you a picture of his outward appearance. What was his original stature it was not easy to imagine, but probably he stood much below the middle height. He was bent forward, till his back was not far from a horizontal line; and so crippled was he that he walked with two sticks, depending upon them as much as if they had been the two fore-legs of a quadruped. This debility had been produced by a dangerous illness, which had brought him nigh to death's door. It had befallen him before I knew him, and he was wont to describe it as "the faver," speaking of it with a solemn expression of countenance. Of late years he wore a brown serge coat, with *We are indebted to the Venerable Archdeacon Hone, Rector of Halesowen, for this paper; and we count it a privilege to publish in the "Sunday at Home" so bright a page in the 'simple annals of the poor."-Ev. S. H. 69 yellow buttons (the dole of a parochial charity); a coloured cotton kerchief was carelessly tied round his neck; corduroy shorts, long grey worsted stockings, and substantial high-low boots, completed his visible costume. On the top of this singular frame was an equally singular head and countenance, a broad forehead, much depressed, and small animated grey eyes, full of expression and earnestness, which often suggested that behind them were lively thoughts struggling for utterance. The loss of nearly all his teeth had caused a collapse of the lips, which curled outwardly, and brought the nose and chin of a short face into exceptional contiguity. The covering of his head was short shock hair, which towards the close of his life had forsaken the crown, but which, if 1 rightly remember, had been peculiarly thick, and gave no indications of ever having been carefully arranged. Surmounting all was a hat which had seen many years, and which was evidently the worse for the accidents which had befallen it. But we must not only look upon the portrait of old Richard, as he appears before us on his two pairs of legs. You must see him as he walks the two miles from his abode to the town. On the way he had to descend a hill, steep in some parts, and nearly a mile in length from the top to the bottom. The poor limbs, enfeebled by the terrible "faver," were far from being under the complete control of their forward, and the consequence sometimes was an owner; the bent body threw most of its weight unpremeditated headlong run, which you could only witness with alarm, expecting the issue to be a terrible fall. But the sticks, more readily obedient than the legs, recovered him in time; and once more the four supports were now, slowly and more surely, proceeding on their way. Sometimes he walked his two miles into the town on an errand of mercy, to comfort a brother in his affliction, or to speak seasonable and loving but often warning words to some transgressor, in whose life he was interested. On one of the week-days he Every Sunday, at all our three services, he was a came for his "loaf and shilling" to the parish office. constant worshipper in the house of God, which he loved. In that sacred place his habits were peculiar, and were sometimes misunderstood. Strangers were astonished by them. He was there a good long time before the service commenced; it might be half an hour. His place was a seat which filled up an angle at the foot of the pulpit; a seat with room for one. At once he was on his knees. He had not the power of praying in silence, a difficulty often felt by the uneducated; so he prayed, with intense fervour, in a loud clear voice, which resounded through the church, but with an evident unconsciousness that any other was there save his Heavenly Father. It was prayer full of love and charity, and rich in intercession. Its thoughts were often beautiful, and its language wonderfully appropriate. He prayed for the Queen, and sometimes these loyal outpourings of his soul were most minute in the details of his petitions, and touching in their sympathy. All his intercessions were comprehensive, and warm in their charity. For the ministers and ambassadors of Christ tliere was always prayer, and it was full of unction. You might have said that he had little to be thankful for, being in body so dilapidated, and in estate a pauper. But he did not think so. His heart over flowed with gratitude, and ever and anon his spirit rose with his acknowledgments; and, as if he were unable to contain himself, he broke out into notes of praise, ending with, "Glory, glory, glory be to God. Amen," followed by a clapping of hands. All this ceased at once at the commencement of the service. He was a reverent and devout worshipper; a communicant who never was absent, and an attentive listener to the sermon, often showing, by the expression of his countenance, how closely he followed it, and sometimes speaking afterwards of parts which had especially engaged his attention. Taking so long a walk, winter and summer, and in all weathers, he was at one time invited to have his Sunday dinner in the rectory kitchen. It was thought that the arrangement would be a boon to him. and that his conversation might be useful to those whom he found there. But of him, more than of most men, it might be said, in all the fulness of its meaning, “Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.” He spent a good quarter of an hour in prayer, with a loud voice, before the meal commenced, and afterwards he returned again to supplication and praise, until the bell summoned him to the afternoon service. On some of the household this might be attended with consequences far different from those which had been contemplated, and besides it was incongruous with the performance of such services as needs must be rendered, even on the Lord's day; so after a while a different provision was made for the good old man's liberty and comfort. Let us now follow him to his home. A worthy old man, who in his day had entertained John Wesley in his house, had granted to "old Richard," for his life, a small detached building, erected on a piece of open ground by the side of the turnpike road. It may have been intended originally for a summer house. It consisted of one small room perhaps about ten feet long by eight or nine wide. It was built of brick, in panels, which were filled in with blue, gray, and green dross from the iron works, after the manner of the flint houses near the Hampshire and Sussex downs. If you crossed the threshold, you saw the inside lined with a wall of coals, which were continually replenished by the bounty of a constant friend. A bedstead and the coals nearly filled the apartment; and that and a few mean vessels made up the whole of the furniture. On the bedside sat the old man, with his Bible open, reading and thoroughly enjoying what were to him "the lively oracles of God." There might be forty or fifty straws in the volume, his book markers, giving him ready access to the texts of sermons and favourite passages, and portions of Scripture which were to have his attention at different parts of the day. I wish I had taken note of his plan of reading, but I have no recollection of ever having known it. Had you passed that way in the night, you might have seen through the little pointed window the glimmering of his candle, and might have heard the uplifted voice of prayer and praise at any hour. Many a whole night he spent in prayer. Old Richard was chiefly dependent for his subsistence on parochial relief, a scanty pittance. But he had a roof over his head, free of cost, and some charity clothing in his later years; and there were a few friends who may have given him, one week with another, as much as the parish allowed him. Three shillings a week would probably exceed all that he received. Out of this he contrived to save considerable sums for acts of charity and of gratitude, for which he practised a degree of severe self-denial which it is more easy to honour than to emulate. Within the compass of about three years there were two objects of importance for which subscriptions were being collected. One of these was a costly work about to be commenced in the old parish church; the other was for the erection of a new church near old Richard's abode. Towards each of these he brought as his offering five 'shillings. On the second occasion we scrupled to accept his gift, but without success, for our hesitation distressed him. He said that to refuse it would break his heart, and when, afterwards, he was asked how he had contrived to spare so much, his answer was, in the language of the midland country, "Why, I clammed for it," which meant that he had hungered, that he had denied to himself his necessary food; and he further explained that he had gone without his breakfast for several months. This was liberality indeed, and it had some worthy correspondence with the widow's mite; only that was but for the day or the week, and this had been a pinch day by day, deliberately practised for a long time. Another instance of generous self-denial was the fruit of his gratitude to more than one of his neighbours who had befriended him. To one he contrived to give a hare almost every year; and once upon a time he was seen seated on a truck with three paper-covered trunks, with which he was being wheeled over a distance of seven miles. He seemed in his warm old heart to be making a progress of triumph, for these were his presents to three friends who had taken pleasure in doing him little acts of kindness. He was not unmindful that the initials marked in brass-headed nails, on one of the boxes, were also his own, as well as those of the friend to whom he was carrying his gift. Notwithstanding his poverty, and the bodily infirmity which prevented his earning his living and crippled his progress, he had an eminently joyful spirit. One day (and many were like it), in return to the customary morning salutation, and the inquiry as to how he was, he looked into the inquirer's face, with a fixed gaze from those expressive grey eyes, and raising up one of the two sticks on which he rested, forcibly struck its end upon the pavement, exclaiming, 66 Thanks be to God! I'm so happy, I scarce know whether I'm on earth or in heaven." At another time, equally happy in the thorough persuasion that his Lord was always nigh to him, he spoke in almost the same terms, but then added something to the following effect (while a cloud passed across his brow): "I have only one trouble in the world, that" (speaking of a relative) "is living in sin. If only he might be brought into the right way, my happiness would be perfect." His life was not only a life of prayer and of abstraction from earthly things, but he desired to make himself useful to others. If he heard of any being sick, or in other affliction, he sought them out, spoke to them for their souls' profit, and poured out his heart in prayer on their behalf. There were no great deeds to note in this man's A TOUR IN NORTHERN RUSSIA. life, but there were little things which told of a large and full heart. My thoughts turn to the end of old Richard's life (even after the lapse of, as I believe, much more than twenty years), with a pang of sorrow, and yet perfectly confident that God doeth all things well. The growing infirmities of old age made it necessary for him to remove from the little hut in which he had lived alone, and enjoyed himself, until he could no longer take care of himself. He went to lodge in a house at some distance from the familiar dwelling. One day, as he sat by the fire, he dropped asleep, and then fell forward out of his 71 chair upon the burning coals. His clothes were set on fire, he was dreadfully burnt, and after some few days of acute suffering, he received the blessed summons, for which he had been so long making preparation. The circumstances of his death were painful, but "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord." Their end is peace. He had been used to celebrate God's praises with a true heart; and he departed to take up a sweeter and nobler strain in the Paradise above, in grateful adoration of Him who had wrought his redemption, had rescued his soul from death, and had firmly fixed his faith on promises which were that day to him fulfilled. A TOUR IN NORTHERN RUSSIA. BY THE REV. HENRY LANSDELL, F.R.G.S. II.-TROITZA-YAROSLAF. ROITZA is to the Russians what Canterbury was to the English when Chaucer's pilgrims flocked to the shrine of Thomas-à-Becket. Troitza is the first monastery of the empire, and the richest, and owned at the time of the emancipation more than a hundred thousand serfs. There repose the bones of St. Sergius, one of the greatest of Russian saints, in a shrine weighing nearly a thousand pounds of pure silver; near it are some of his relics and also pictures said to work miracles, which are covered with gems of fabulous value. In the sacristy the traveller is shown the most costly robes and altar-cloths; and numerous jewels which once adorned imperial brows have here found a home as ornaments for priestly attire. the vicinity over Archbishop Plato's house: "Let not him who enters here, carry out the dirt he finds within." Why the monk should have chosen this extraordinary dwelling did not appear, except that he said he suffered from a flow of blood to the head, and the doctors advised his living in a cool place. One could not, however, easily suppress the suspicion that the old gentleman had given up his business in Moscow, and buried himself in his hole with the antique but mistaken notion that with such poverty and dirt God is well pleased. In Our friend was very cheerful, and after exchanging presents and bidding one another a hearty farewell, we made our way to the station. so doing we passed a double row of wooden huts which formed a lane through which I remembered to have passed four years previously, when my companion and I were half scared by a number of women, who came out vociferously offering us something to eat. Having an interpreter this time I was minded to try the experiment again, upon our doing which the women came out as before; and not content with touting, took us round the waist, trying to entice us within to eat what we now discovered to be cakes, mushrooms, and fish. We must have been very hungry indeed to have touched their strange-looking dishes, but the place was sufficiently curious to cause our interpreter to take a sketch thereof, with a woman here kneading her cakes, another there smoking her pipe, and a number of samovars ranged down the centre of the row (which I christened Mushroom Alley"), waiting for the first traveller or pilgrim who would be beguiled by the extraordinary concoctions which everyone in these sheds seemed to have to sell. When the folks found we were not purchasers, they expressed their pleasure at having their emporium sketched, begged that a copy might be sent them, and thanked us for paying them a visit. Troitza is pre-eminently a resort for Russian pilgrims who travel hundreds, not to say thousands of miles to pray before its shine and seek help from its saints. Five hundred a day in summer is an ordinary number, whilst on festival days the crowd is frequently swelled to a thousand. About a mile and a half from the great monastery we visited the Hermitage or "Skit" of Gethsemane, and were pleased to see in one of the rooms a large engraving of Canterbury Cathedral. The most curions feature of the Skit, however, is a number of underground vaults inhabited by a few of the monks. Of course we went down to see them, and found the damp standing on the walls. Making our way to one of the inhabited cells, we were welcomed by an old monk who had some resemblance to "The Hermit painted by Gerard Dow. There was scarcely room for the four of us to stand upright in the place, in which nevertheless the monk had lived for twenty years, though not without going out for meals, and for the purpose of ringing the bells for church. It was easy to understand that the cell was more comfortable in winter than in summer, because it would be less damp; and the fire lighted in autumn was not allowed to go out till spring. At best, however, it was a miserable, filthy place. A few clouts spread on a short board served for a bed, a shelf here and there sufficed for the old man's treasures, most of which were covered with an amount of uncleanness that caused one to beware of what he touched, and called to mind the proverb written in,selves 66 On leaving Troitza we travelled all night by rail, and early next morning reached Yaroslaf, where we drove to a large cotton mill, to the English manager of which we had an introduction. We were taken in and treated with genuine hospitality, and right pleasant it was to find ouragain among English furniture, English habits, and, better than all, in an English bath-room. | impossibility, but the range of harmony rendered by No luxury had I missed so much as this, and the difficulty connected with such arrangements in Russia may be imagined from the fact that our landlord in Moscow, when spoken to on the subject, declared that as for a cold bath, he had never been asked for such a thing in his life! Our first business at Yaroslaf was to visit the governor, from whom my letter procured us every attention; for, to ensure our seeing all that we wished, his Excellency kindly placed his secretary at our disposal to accompany us where we would. I had heard of this governor as a highly intelligent man, and mentioned our desire to present Scriptures and tracts to such institutions as needed them, and where they would be acceptable; upon which he said that some of the institutions were looked after by local committees, but that others were only indifferently supplied, and that he would gladly undertake to distribute any Scriptures we might give through the ten prisons of his province. We thereföre sent his Excellency a goodly number, and also afterwards sent a box of Scriptures and tracts to the chief doctor of the hospital, an intelligent German apparently, who gladly undertook to carry out my wishes as to their distribution and arrangement. We visited in Yaroslaf some of the schools; first one for boys, where we gave some books for their library, and then an interesting girls' school called the "Olgenský Detsky Prioot," which was under the patronage of the empress. Seventy girls, orphans or poor, are here fed and taught daily, and of these twenty-two are clothed and lodged. I do not remember ever to have seen a school of its class with such superior fittings, and so scrupulously clean. Everything looked so fresh that one suspected the workmen must have gone out of the back door as we entered the front. I asked to be allowed to put some questions to the girls, and gave them a mild examination in arithmetic and geography. Round the walls were hanging a series of pictures representing the chief events in Scripture history from the creation to the ascension, and from these they were taught, but not, as I gathered, from the Bible itself. When, therefore, I proceeded, through the interpreter, to question them, their Biblical information was found such as might be expected when thus acquired as it were at secondhand, for so long as we kept to the pictures they answered very well, but if other parts of the Scriptures were touched upon we found curselves off the line. The girls gave us a specimen of their vocal powers by chanting their national anthem, to which I replied by singing them "God save the Queen." In the next school, the "Nicolaifsky Prioot," we found the whole of the religious instruction in the hands of a priest, who was supposed to teach them two hours a week in Scripture, to devote another hour to the explanation of the liturgy, and to instruct them in the catechism from time to time as he saw fit. Two hours a week were also devoted to singing, and that to some purpose, for there was a church in the school-house, in which the choir was formed of girls. They were singing to us their Trinity hymn prepared for the following Sunday, when I observed a phenomenon I can hardly muster the courage to mention; for one of the girls seemed to me to have a voice as deep as my own. I had always believed such a thing to be not only a musical, but a physical the choir led me to look over the music and try my voice with that of a girl of fifteen or sixteen who was singing the deep notes, and whose compass seemed the same as mine. When, moreover, they sang something familiar to our interpreter, whose voice, like my own, was a barytone, and he took part in the singing, the same resemblance was observable between his voice and that of the girl. The depth of the tones of some of the church choristers in Russia is very striking. One of our party remarked of one of the men singers in St. Isaac's Cathedral that the profundity of his notes might make the pipes of an organ blush. Whether the girl had caught somewhat of this profundity I know not, nor can I explain what I write. I can only record my persua sion that the girl in question possessed a voice an octave lower than any boy or female I have ever heard before or since. 1 A visit to the town and surburban hospital afforded us an opportunity of seeing, in a new part of the building, a remarkable method of ventilating a pestilential room by drawing the bad air into stoves, and so making room for fresh to enter; also some experiments of a sanitary character suggested by General Bolugianski, by no means common. There we found some wounded soldiers, one from Rustchuk, who had been struck at Plevna by a bullet, which he had carried for nearly a twelvemonth, and which had been taken from his side in a jagged and ragged condition the day before we arrived. The man had no special affection for the piece of lead, but willingly gave it to me for a copy of the New Testament; and left it thus to enrich my treasures. Connected with the hospital is a maðhouse, where the inmates for the more part in summer spend their time out of doors in large barred pens shaded by trees of birch. The arms of some of the very violent of the men were secured in strait jackets, but all the women were free. One of these latter spoke a little French; another took a cheerful view of things, and danced and sang from morning till night, whilst a third woman was perpetually angry, and scolded and screamed all day long. “I would give two thousand roubles to have you all! hanged," was one of her expletives, as we watched the poor creature sitting on the ground and quivering with rage. The Sparski monastery is the most remarkable of the ecclesiastical buildings in Yaroslaf, at the notorieties of which we proceeded to look. There were the usual jewelled mitres, sets of sacramental plate, and so forth, and also an ikon, or picture, which was said to work miracles, concerning which I made bold to ask a few questions. The traveller in Russia is shown here and there some very wonderful relics; for instance, at Moscow "a piece of our Saviour's robe and a nail of the true cross," but his faith is not often drawn upon in that reckless manner that is sometimes done in Roman countries-as, for instance, at Rouen, where is shown a piece of the bones, duly distinguished, of each of the twelve apostles; and at Cologne one of the waterpots in which our Saviour turned the water into wine; things which a student must at once recognise to be barefaced impossibilities: the first, because we do not even know where all the apostles died; and the second, because the ewer at Cologne would hold only about two gallons, whereas those at Cana of Galileo |