a beard that spread Itself upon his white bournotis. One hand grasped a shepherd's staff, while the other pointed to the sky. His low, penetrating voice and his impressive appearance brought most poignantly to my mind the Sermon on the Mount, and I had the feeling that I could distinctly hear the words:
"Blessèd are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessèd are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God."
The likeness was all the more striking, in view of the fact that around the speaker sat twelve listening Arabs, with their eyes fixed intently upon the holy man. I counted twice and was not mistaken—they were twelve. The Impression was strangely touching and not to be forgotten, deep and simple as one from the days of childhood, when mother showed to us the pictures in the Bible.
"This is a hadj," explained a young man, who approached and addressed us in the hope of opening the way to being engaged as a guide. "He is a reshid, pious and strong in faith, who has just returned from a difficult pilgrimage to the sacred city of Mecca and who is telling of his journey with the hope of persuading others to undertake it, promising to them the sure help and favor of Allah and the Prophet. Those around him are common mumeni, who often vainly dream through their whole lives of this pilgrimage which is so agreeable to Allah but which they are more often than not unable to make."
We entered through the gate, Bab el-Maroukh, and, after a ten-minute walk under the escort of a group of dirty, noisy street-urchins, reached our objective, the
