with flowers and small lamps which glitter and twinkle in the sombre night, accompanied by the glare of a thousand torches, which cast their lurid light on the grim faces of the crowd; the hoarse cries of the people, and the monotonous sound of the incessant tom-tom;-all these give these processions a weird and uncanny aspect, more like an Arabian-Night's vision than aught else.

At this season they commemorate the death of two brothers, Hussein and Hoosein. Both were very warlike chieftains, but one, the younger, aspired to the dignity of his elder brother, and killed him.

The two parties, the followers of Hussein and Hoosein, once a year walk the streets by night, beating their breasts and wearing mourning in token of their grief. They do not wear black as we do, but green, for that is their badge of sorrow. Before the pro

cession is led the horse on which the warlike brother rode to battle, only, as it is hundreds of years since that animal died, they usually frame one of paper, which they carry in remembrance of the gallant steed.

During the day, we learnt that at night we could see all these strange sights, if we would

watch for them, as the procession would pass down the road at the bottom of our garden. So when evening came, and the stars of the Southern Cross became visible over the trees, we took up our position on the terrace, or roof of the house (for our house had a flat roof), and awaited the arrival of the procession. The red glimmer of the torches down the road, the murmur of many voices, like the distant roar of the sea, the Ek-dek-kah, thodek-rah, of the tom-tom, or Indian drum, the tramp of many feet, announced that it was coming, and a curious sight it was when at last it appeared. The cries of the mourners, the glare of the torch-lights, the gleaming lamps, the monumental pyramid, formed at once a novel and astonishing scene, such as once seen can never be forgotten. The crowd had reached the corner of the road, and were about to turn to the right, when, lo! the followers of the other brother came face to face with them. The first party had been Husseinites, and the new-comers were Hooseinites; and, of course, a. fight ensued. The torches waved backwards and forwards, and swayed from side to side with the surging of the crowd, as one side or the other gained a temporary advantage; the pyramids nodded

their tall heads, as if they would fall from their high and lofty position; the little lamps went out, and the floral wreaths began to drop off. The two parties fought and struggled, volleys of abuse were poured forth, blows with fists and sticks were liberally and unsparingly bestowed by the fanatics on their nearest neighbours. Ah, me! there must have been many broken heads that night. How long they might have continued to fight I cannot tell; but the new-comers were inferior in point of numbers to the Husseinites, and were compelled soon to beat a retreat. Their courage might have been as great, or even greater; their enthusiasm and ardour for the departed Hoosein might have been as fervent; but they were vanquished, and they ran away. A storm of rain and wind now broke over the crowd and soon dispersed both victors and vanquished. What a strange thing that such a proceeding should form part of the religion of so vast a portion of the human race; and that faith is placed in these vain and frivolous ceremonies even by men of ability and intelligence.

Grace had been standing on the terrace with us, surveying the whole scene. Pleased at first with the Thageyahs and the show, she had