On the walls that surround the monastery alone, there are sixteen towers ; the principal church has, as usual, five smaU ones, others rose on all sides belonging to the supplementary churches and chapels, and a great tower for the bells was, of course, not wanting. The inner court of the cloister is charmingly adorned by him, who is in general no great decorator. The robber of all beauty, the annihilater of aU form, the destroyer of all speech and colour — Death, shows in these courts so fresh a fife of plants, such attractive colours in marbles and flowers, such consoling speech in texts and inscriptions, and such pleasing forms in urns and balustrades, that he appears here the most amiable gate-keeper in the world, as he invites us to enter his gardens. The departed lie thickly round the church, as if they would yet listen, as in life, to the songs of the nuns, and take part in the sacred ceremonies within, surrounding it with a far more graceful dance of death than the German painter has represented in Liibeck. Such thoughts passed through my head as I strolled about the coiu1;s of the monastery, waiting for the conductress I had requested from the Igumena (Abbess). While I was looking at the inscriptions, I heard keys rattling behind me ; a black nun was standing at a little distance, and seemed to be waiting for me. I approached and greeted her in as friendly a manner as I could, but was almost frightened, as I came nearer, at the angrylooking figure which placed its two arms on its sides and addressed me thus : " Here, are you the person who has asked for the keys of our churches ?" " Yes, fair lady, I should like to look at them a little neaier." She made no attempt to lead me to them, but continued in a tone of the utmost surprise : " And why, for God's sake, do you wish that. You are the third person who has asked that favour this spring. Like you, your predecessors liad note-books in their hands, one even made drawings, and they were both Nyemtzi (Germans) like yourself. Have you no churches in your own country, and is not Moscow full of churches besides ? What brings you so far out here ? We poor nmis have a heavy semce and plenty to do, and why should we wait upon you, who do not even pray in this church ? How much do we get in the whole year ? Four-and-tweuty rubles, and that is all ! What more we w^ant, we must gain by the labour of our hands. We could not even exist but for those you are now looking at ; the dead, I mean. They bring us the most, and are our only hope, since our rich possessions have been taken from us, particularly those who are buried near the ' sobor' (principal church), for that costs most ; those that lie about the chapels pay less, and those by the walls least of all."
I interrupted this discourse by the necessary answers and remarks ; told her that her cloister enjoyed a particular reputation ; that I had learnt at ichool in my native city, three hundred (German) miles distant, that it had been the retreat of the sister of Peter the Great, and that therefore I wislied to examine it.
" Perhaps, sir, you are also working at the plan of Moscow that is making here, and for which they are drawing all the houses and churches," said anotlier of the nuns, who were standing staring at us, and listening to our dialogue.
" A plan of Moscow ! and what is that for ? Mount our tower there, and you have the whole city before you ; and what is the use of drawing what you have already ?" returned Sister Eudokia, for so I heard the uncivil beauty was called. That she was uncivil my readers will tlieniselves perceive ; that slie was a beauty I must answer for myself. Sbe was really very beautiful : her straight Grecian nose, fair skin, bright colour, and pretty plumpness, were set oflT by her pretty nun's dress, and quick, open, saucy manner. She was one of those beauties that last longest, their attractions depending less on the quickly-vanishing charms of complexion and graceful fullness, than on symmetrical construction and feature— the finely-formed nose, beautiful arch of the forehead, regularly moulded chin, and graceful turn of the cheek.
There was nothing very worthy of note in the church, except the tombs of Peter's sisters, Eudokia and Catherine, and of the intriguing Sophia, who here transcribed the Gospels that are to be seen in the Uspenski Sabor. During her lifetime she inhabited the house now tenanted by the Igumena of the convent. I had hoped to have gleaned some characteristic anecdotes of a person so historically remarkable, but all my inquiries were vain.