hundred years perhaps, rise from the ground, either separately or in
superb clusters, and temper the light of the always hot sun on the
rose-trees and the flowering hibiscus. There is no noise in the gardens,
any more than in the cloisters, for people walk there in sandals and
with measured tread. And there are Edens, too, for the birds, who
live and sing therein in complete security, even during the services,
attracted by the little troughs which the imams fill for their benefit
each morning with water from the Nile.

As for the mosque itself it is rarely closed on all sides as are
those in the countries of the more sombre Islam of the north. Here in
Egypt--since there is no real winter and scarcely ever any rain--one of
the sides of the mosque is left completely open to the garden; and the
sanctuary is separated from the verdure and the roses only by a simple
colonnade. Thus the faithful grouped beneath the palm-trees can pray
there equally as well as in the interior of the mosque, since they can
see, between the arches, the holy Mihrab.[*]

[*] The Mihrab is a kind of portico indicating the direction
of Mecca. It is placed at the end of each mosque, as the
altar is in our churches, and the faithful are supposed to
face it when they pray.

Oh! this sanctuary seen from the silent garden, this sanctuary in which
the pale gold gleams on the old ceiling of cedarwood, and mosaics of
mother-of-pearl shine on the walls as if they were embroideries of
silver that had been hung there.

There is no faience as in the mosques of Turkey or of Iran. Here it is
the triumph of patient mosaic. Mother-of-pearl of all colours, all kinds