triumph. The responses were very heartily made, especially by the sailors; and the sounds, evidently familiar, were caught up and echoed by the three hundred devotees on deck.
The bishop concluded the service by pronouncing a general benediction. He held in his hand a little cross, carved out of a piece of the rock of the hill on which the city of Jerusalem stands. It is a rather soft stone, and is about the color of Sienna marble. The captain solemnly advanced and kneeled down to kiss this cross, then the bishop with it made the mark of the cross on the broad, smooth, reverential forehead of the still kneeling captain.
All the officers in turn, and then the sailors, went forward with earnest simplicity and devotion to claim this benediction, and Mons. Aumann and several of our fellow passengers—although they belonged to the Latin and other Churches—followed the example. Then the bishop went out on to the deck to give his blessing to the pilgrims there, and to let them kiss the cross, while the priests were sprinkling them with holy water and swinging the censers. When the bishop passed through the kneeling crowd, the pilgrims pressed the hem of his robes to their lips, and looked up to him as if they regarded him as an angel from heaven. Then followed a material feast. Large cans of meat and soup, and loaves of bread, were distributed to all the deck passengers, in the name and for the sake of the Grand Duke Constantine, the Emperor's brother; while the first-class passengers were invited by the captain to partake of a champagne déjeûner à la fourchette. The temporary altar was quickly removed, the picture was hung in its customary place at the end of the saloon.[1] The table was soon spread with fruit and flowers, tastefully arranged. The captain led me to a seat by his side, and the rest of the company followed. We were
- ↑ Pictures of patron saints, or of the holy family, are invariably seen in the saloons and cabins of Russian steamers.
