, and among them the
mothers of the babies who received them from the men in yellow copes at
the end of the ceremony. One of these young men was very handsome, and
as he stood looking down and smiling on the baby he held, with the light
of the torch sharpening the lines of his features, would have made a
lovely picture. The expression was sweeter than St. Vincent de Paul,
because his smile told that he could have played with the baby as well as
have prayed for it. In this country one gets to see how much more
beautiful a perfectly natural expression is than any degree of the
mystical expression of the best painters, and it is so refreshing that no
one tries to look pious. The Muslim looks serious, and often warlike, as
he stands at prayer. The Christian just keeps his everyday face. When
the Muslim gets into a state of devotional frenzy he does not think of
making a face, and it is quite tremendous. I don't think the Copt has
any such ardours, but the scene this morning was all the more touching
that no one was 'behaving him or herself' at all. A little acolyte
peeped into the sacramental cup and swigged off the drops left in it with
the most innocent air, and no one rebuked him, and the quite little
children ran about in the sanctuary--up to seven they are privileged--and
only they and the priests enter it. It is a pretty commentary on the
words 'Suffer the little children,' etc.

I am more and more annoyed at not being able to ask questions for myself,
as I don't like to ask through a Muslim and no Copts speak any foreign
language, or very very few. Omar and Hassan had been at five this
morning to the tomb of Sittina Zeyneb, one of the daughters of the
Prophet, to 'see her' (Sunday is her day of reception), and say the
Fathah at her tomb. Next Friday the great Bairam begins and every Muslim
eats a bit of meat at his richer neighbour's expense. It is the day on
which the pilgrims go up the sacred mount near Mecca, to hear the sermon
which terminates the Haj. Yesterday I went to call on pretty Mrs.
Wilkinson, she is an Armenian of the Greek faith, and was gone to pray at
the convent of Mar Girgis (St. George) to cure the pains a bad rheumatic
fever has left in her hands. Evidently Mar Girgis is simply Ammon Ra,
the God of the Sun and great serpent-slayer, who is still revered in
Egypt by all sects, and Seyd el-Bedawee is as certainly one form of
Osiris. His festivals, held twice a year at Tanta, still disp