Before the first Romanov was born, Donskoi Monastery was building. It rises, barbarous, massive, beautiful, from the sordid fringes of Moscow. Under its countless roofs are a cathedral and six churches. Through its courtyard are always passing "black" monks, mitred abbots, bishops, for high sacrifice.
And through it of late have gone a motley crew—peasants from the Caucasus, coatless students from Kiev, land-robbed landowners from the Volga Valley. They have turned sharply round the gate, up a stone staircase by the wall, into a low-vaulted room half-lost in the acres of...
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