festival, and seems as if it were the scene of a great fair. This is the only occasion on which all Egyptian women, however high their station, are suffered to appear in public, a permission of which a vast number take advantage, and come out in their festival robes and yashmaks, all of white.

The returning pilgrims bring back to Cairo the doubly sacred hangings which have adorned the Káaba for the last year, and which are eventually cut up into shreds for distribution among the faithful.

The great Dervish who leads the procession is held to be a person of such wondrous sanctity, that even a blow from his horse's hoof is an honour worthy to be desired; and when a vast crowd have assembled to witness the ceremony of the Doseh, or Trampling, a passage about six feet wide is cleared, down which comes a rushing torrent of young dervishes, swaying from side to side, drunk with fanaticism, and gasping Allah, Allah!

Suddenly they all stop and throw themselves flat on their faces; a living pavement, which, however, twitches convulsively while the miserable enthusiasts go on violently rubbing their noses in the dust, as their heads jerk from side to side, while they continue to reiterate the Name of God. Meanwhile the fanatical infection spreads, and many of the bystanders fall prone on the ground with the rest of the grovelling herd. Then, amid dead silence, the great Dervish, riding a powerful horse, surrounded by about a dozen followers, passes over the prostrate bodies, and as the pain of that heavy tread is added to the previous excitement, some writhe in agony, some swoon, some are in fits, while still with foaming lips they strive to murmur the praise of Allah.

This year a totally new feature was added to the first scene in this strange ceremony, namely, the marked honour paid to the Holy Carpet by the British authorities at Cairo-marks of official respect by the followers of the Cross, to one of the most strangely superstitious observances of the followers of the Crescent, which might well call forth wondering comments from all present, and from all who subsequently heard thereof, though, from a political point of view, well calculated to assuage the religious rancour of the Mahommedan population, and to prove to them how it is that so vast a number of their co-religionists are content to live peaceably under the British flag, and to serve a Christian sovereign in time of war.

Never within the memory of living Egyptians has the ceremony (which commemorates the tragic pilgrimage of Zobeida) been celebrated with such splendour as this year, when "the infidel dogs " rule supreme in Cairo. On the morning of October 5, the Holy Carpet NO. 1823.

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was carried with all possible honour to the great mosque, where the accustomed religious service was performed. It was then placed on a gorgeously caparisoned camel, beneath a velvet canopy called a Mahmel, heavily embroidered with gold.

Behind it followed twelve other camels, on one of which rode the Great Dervish, in charge of the precious treasure, a wild-looking being, with long unkempt locks streaming on his bare shoulders. He was naked from the waist upwards, and seemed to have been selected for his magnificent figure. His head was in ceaseless

motion, constantly tossing from side to side.

On the other camels were mounted musicians and singers, who indulged in most unmelodious discords.

The caravan made its way to the Mahmoudieh Square, where a large force of British troops were drawn up. Seven times it made the circuit of the Square, doubtless to symbolize the seven mystic sunwise turns to be performed by the faithful around the Káaba at Mecca. From the great citadel overlooking the scene a salute of twenty-one guns was fired, while the procession advanced to the spot where the Khedive and the Sheik-ul-Islam stood, waiting to kiss the tassel of the Holy Carpet, and present their offerings in money.

On the right hand of the Khedive stood the Duke of Connaught, on the left Sir E. Malet and Sir Garnet Wolseley.

The British infantry, and all the Mahommedans in the Indian native infantry, and native cavalry, then formed in long files, and started as the vanguard of the procession, which slowly wound its way through the narrow crowded streets of the native city, the Indian regiments who guarded the sacred offering during its two hours of struggling along narrow thoroughfares, receiving their full share of admiration from the Mahommedan population; their proud, soldierly bearing contrasting strangely with that of the average Egyptians who composed the greater part of the multitude.

Leaving the narrow streets, the procession emerged into the more open ground of the Esbekieh, and so made its way to the railway station. For another novel feature of the great ceremonial of 1882 was, that instead of proceeding to the Holy City by the usual pilgrim route, a special train was appointed to convey the carpet, the dervishes, and the camels to Suez, whence a special steamer was to convey them to Jeddah. This unusual course is said to be a precautionary measure, as it was feared that the hordes of wild Bedouins, well armed with Remington rifles, might forget their duty to the Prophet, in the temptation of looting his carpet,

So a gaily decorated truck was prepared to convey the gifts of the Khedive to the holy shrine.

In approaching Cairo, the prominent object which attracts our notice is Mohammed Ali's beautiful white mosque, which is built within the Citadel, above whose mighty ramparts tower the great dome and tall minarets. This noble mass of masonry stands on a detached rock, 200 feet above the level of the Nile-a spur of the Mokattem range, which stretches away in the background.

As these craggy and sandy hills completely overlook the Citadel, I at once decided on making my way thither, as being unmistakably the finest sketching ground; so, ignoring all the remonstrances of my dragoman, who suggested all manner of official opposition, I ventured to lead the way to the summit of the crags, whence we obtained so magnificent a view of the city and of the great desert outstretched beyond, traversed by the silvery Nile, with its ribbon-like edging of vivid fertile green, as amply repaid us for the exertion.

Right before us rose the mighty Citadel, which is said to have been restored by the great Saladin about the year 1176. All around it lies the city, with its forest of mosques and tall minarets.

The city is enclosed by battlemented walls, outside of which lie great tracts of desolate suburbs-vast mounds of city refuse, and countless ruined tombs and minarets standing in the desert; the mosques having in many cases disappeared, as if destroyed by violence, while these more fragile minarets remain. Even those that remain are allowed to crumble away piecemeal, no modern Egyptians caring to prop up their fine old ancestral temples, or finding in them any interest either as works of art or matters of history; the name of the greatest caliph or of the meanest slave being alike forgotten. Too often the precious ruins are merely treated as quarries, for there are Goths in all lands.

Among the most striking of these ruins, are the long line of arches of a great aqueduct ; and winding beneath these we noted other lines of small moving creatures, which proved to be long strings of camels, their diminutive size affording a good scale by which to estimate the great buildings among which they moved.

This Citadel was in 1811 the scene of the massacre of the last of the Mamelukes by Mahomed Ali, a deed of base treachery, but of consummate and successful policy; a coup d'état, in fact. You remember how the Mamelukes had risen from the position of slaves to that of sultans. This Circassian dynasty produced a race of military princes, who waged war with the Ottoman sultans, The last but

one, Sultan Ghoree, was slain in battle in Syria, and his successor, Toman Bey, was routed on the plain between Cairo and Heliopolis. He was taken captive and hanged, and his head stuck on the malefactors' gateway, Bab Zooayleh. Though the supreme power had thus passed away from them, the Mameluke aristocracy still maintained their ancient valour, till their brilliant cavalry was routed by Napoleon at the battle of the Pyramids, and but a small remnant left.

These Mameluke nobles had helped Mahomed Ali to the pachalik; but it is supposed that they had changed their minds, and were plotting to destroy him. At all events, having used them as the ladder of his ambition, he found it expedient to get rid of them. He therefore invited them all to be present within the Citadel, when a pasha was to be invested with some military command. Four hundred and seventy of these magnificent beings accordingly rode up in great state, but when they turned to depart they found the gates closed, and from every corner a murderous fire of musketry rained upon them.

From this horrible carnage one alone escaped, namely, Amyn Bey, who forced his horse to leap the rampart, a fall of forty feet. Happily he lighted on a heap of rubbish, and though the horse was killed, the man escaped and, giving himself into the care of the Arabs, found protection during the ensuing days, when the houses of the Mamelukes were plundered, and all their relations, numbering about one thousand, were murdered, and the gate of Bab Zooayleh literally covered with those ghastly trophies, the heads of the slain.

It is said that from this final massacre one other man escaped, Suleiman Aga by name, who disguised himself in the long blue robe of an Arab woman, and, thus veiled, escaped his foes. This man had been the Pasha's prime favourite, and the story goes that, without showing any special disgust at his friend's treachery, he returned to his post of favourite, and even repeated the little joke of dressing up as an Arab damsel, who appearing before his Highness as a suppliant, pleaded her own cause with volubility, and carried her case, whereupon, removing her veil, she displayed the features of Suleiman, who is affirmed by English eye-witnesses to have continued for many years the cordial friend of the Pasha and other great folks in Cairo.

It is said to have been either as a thank-offering for this brilliant affair, or as an atonement for possible evil in it, that Mahomed Ali built his beautiful mosque within the Citadel. As we looked upon it, we could not but remember the Divine prohibition, which forbade King David to build a temple to the Most High, because he had

shed blood abundantly upon the earth. In this instance, even the building of the great Mosque was a work of oppression and wrong. Among the hundreds of hard-worked and unpaid fellahs, there were bands of young girls of from nine to thirteen years of age, divided into companies of about thirty, each marshalled by a brutal fellow carrying a heavy koorbash with which he dealt cruel blows right and left, whenever the weary, jaded creatures paused for a moment. And all the time they were compelled to sing in chorus-a ceaseless joyless song, sung by unwilling lips and sad hopeless hearts.

With the exception of the domes, the mosque is built entirely of white stone, and the interior of Egyptian alabaster-slabs of motley yellowish white-which were brought from a quarry near Benisoueff on the east bank of the Nile, two days' journey in the desert. The arcades, the richly ornamental pillars, the beautiful fountain in the outer court, for ceremonial ablutions, are all of the same material. The interior is very fine; something like St. Paul's, with four small domes clustered round the great central one. Very large, very solemn, very silent; the foot moving noiselessly over rich Turkish carpets, while here and there some venerable patriarch kneels in prayer, seeming wholly abstracted from the visible world. It is a temple that you feel to be meet for its object. But if you come back in the evening, to see the Dervishes go through their curious functions, you may be somewhat desillusionné, as we were.

Meanwhile, we went on to look at Joseph's Well-not the Joseph of Scripture, but the Sultan, Yussuf Ben Sala Eddin, whom we commonly call Saladin. He bored this well through nearly 300 feet of solid rock, so as to supply the Citadel with water, should the supply from the Nile aqueduct be cut off. Winding round and round the shaft is a spiral gallery where mules and bullocks ascend and descend to the water-level. Its incline is so gradual that, if you wish it, you may ride down on a donkey. The width is about six feet by seven, cut in the solid rock like a huge corkscrew. It is lighted by openings into the great shaft.

The method of working this great well is unique. As it would be impossible to raise the water to so great a height by one. ft, the shaft is made in two divisions, the lower one being a little to one side. Thus two sets of oxen are continually working; one set at the surface of the ground, the others 165 feet lower; while the water lies 132 feet lower still. It is raised by means of an endless doublerope carrying innumerable earthen jars, passing over two wheels, at the top and bottom. This is set in motion by the oxen walking

1 I Chron. xxii. 8.