The ikon most desired is that known as the Iberian Mother of God, whose chapel stands before the Vosskresenski Gate. Close by a carriage and six remains in attendance, and usually towards evening it starts forth on long journeys across the town, its round often unfinished when morning dawns. Its place on the ikonostas is filled by a copy, but the original is at once restored on its return. Men uncover as the carriage passes by; those near, when it is carried to or from a house, prostrate themselves or attempt to kiss it, some endeavour so to arrange that the picture must be carried over them. Another ikon in request is that kept at the Vladimirski Vorot; all have great homage paid them. Priests, drivers, attendants, are uncovered, even in the depth of winter; and to be appointed to any post in connection with it is counted a great honour. It is said that the offerings of the thankful in return for the privileges conferred by "visiting" have amounted to as much as £10,000 in a single year in respect of one picture alone. This money is part of the church revenue--the servants attending with the ikon receiving presents in addition.

Originally the private ikon was a picture of the patron saint of its owner. As every day in the year is a saint's day, the saint of the day on which a person happened to be born was considered his patron; often he took that saint's name, if some other were chosen then the recipient must be christened on the day assigned to that saint, and thus the "name" day is distinct from the birthday and is observed, whilst the anniversary of one's birth may or may not be celebrated. Often, indeed usually, an ikon of the Virgin now occupies the "sacred corner." It is so placed that it must be visible on entering the room and receive the obeisance of the orthodox; it is also, as it were, to be a witness of all that takes place before it. To do anything wrong in the presence of an ikon makes the fault the greater; persistent evil-doers screen the ikon before wilfully transgressing. It was even made one of the charges in the indictment of the false Tsar Dmitri that he neglected to veil the ikon the day of his marriage. To western minds such an attitude is as incomprehensible as the action related in one of Tolstoi's stories, of the pious peasants who, about to murder their offspring, knelt reverently by the hole they had made in the ice and prayed to God that He would protect and bless them. But the Russian understands.

The Story of Moscow — Part 142