the forebead, eyes, nose, mouth,
ears, heart, hands and feet all being signed with the Cross. The
child was by this time crying lustily and it was some business to get
him dressed, especially as he was swaddled in bands very completely.
When ready he was handed to me and he lay stiff in my arms whilst I
held two large lighted candles. I followed the priest from the font
to the little altar, where a chain and a little gold cross were bound
round his head (signifying that he was now a Christian). Then the
priest touched his lips with the sacramental wafer, and touched his
nose with myrrh. After the Blessing, we left the church in a
procession, the godfather carrying the baby. At the threshold of the
house the priest took it and delivered it to the mother who sat
waiting for it, also holding the two candles. Again the priests
muttered a few prayers and blessed mother, child and godparents. The
father is an Armenian carpenter by trade--very nice people. Mother
very pretty. The parents insisted that we should stay for
refreshments and we were handed a very nice liquor in lovely little
glasses and a very beautiful sort of pastry. Afterwards cups of weak
tea and cakes.

The various rites and ceremonies in Jerusalem interested Frances
deeply but the Diary shows no awareness of the differences that
separated the various kinds of Christians. The Diary ends with the
return through Rome where she and I met, to the surprise of both of
us, in the street, while a friend travelling with them met my mother.
"Both meetings were miraculous," Frances comments. Since the letters
to my mother during Gilbert's illness in 1915 we had heard no more
about his spiritual pilgrimage. There was much eager talk at this
meeting but no opportunity occurred and certainly none was sought for
any confidences. As we waved goodbye after their departing train my
mother said thoughtfully: "Frances did rather play off Jerusalem
against Rome, didn't she?"

In fact, as we learned later, this visit to Jerusalem had been a
determining factor in Gilbert's conversion. Many people both in and
outside the Church had been wondering what had so long delayed him.
The mental progress from the vague Liberalism of the _Wild Knight_ to
the splendid edifice of _Orthodoxy_ had been a swift one. For the
book was written in 1908 and already several years earlier in
_Heretics_ and in his newspaper contests with Blatchford, G