I thought the Moscow women more handsome than those of St. Petersburg,
and I attribute this to the great superiority of the air. They are gentle
and accessible by nature; and to obtain the favour of a kiss on the lips,
one need only make a show of kissing their hands.

There was good fare in plenty, but no delicacy in its composition or
arrangement. Their table is always open to friends and acquaintances, and
a friend may bring to five or six persons to dinner, and even at the end
of the meals you will never hear a Russian say, "We have had dinner; you
have come too late." Their souls are not black enough for them to
pronounce such words as this. Notice is given to the cook, and the dinner
begins over again. They have a delicious drink, the name of which I do
not remember; but it is much superior to the sherbet of Constantinople.
The numerous servants are not given water, but a light, nourishing, and
agreeable fluid, which may be purchased very cheaply. They all hold St.
Nicholas in the greatest reverence, only praying to God through the
mediation of this saint, whose picture is always suspended in the
principal room of the house. A person coming in makes first a bow to the
image and then a bow to the master, and if perchance the image is absent,
the Russian, after gazing all round, stands confused and motionless, not
knowing what to do. As a general rule the Muscovites are the most
superstitious Christians in the world. Their liturgy is in Greek, of
which the people understand nothing, and the clergy, themselves extremely
ignorant, gladly leave them completely in the dark on all matters
connected with religion. I could never make them understand that the only
reason for the Roman Christians making the sign of the Cross from left to
right, while the Greeks make it from right to left, is that we say
'spiritus sancti', while they say 'agion pneuma'.