The following day I visited the abode of the howling dervishes, in whom I took a lively interest since I had seen their brethren at Constantinople.  The hall, or rather the mosque, in which they perform their devotions is very splendid.  I was not allowed here to stand among the men as I had done at Constantinople, but was conducted to a raised gallery, from which I could look down through a grated window.

The style of devotion and excitement of these dervishes is like that I had witnessed at Constantinople, without being quite so wild in its character.  Not one of them sank exhausted, and the screeching and howling were not so loud.  Towards the end of their performance many of the dervishes seized a small tambourine, on which they beat and produced a most diabolical music.

In the slave-market there was but a meagre selection; all the wares had been bought, and a new cargo of these unfortunates was daily expected.  I pretended that I wished to purchase a boy and a girl, in order to gain admittance into the private department.  Here I saw a couple of negro girls of most uncommon beauty.  I had not deemed it possible to find any thing so perfect.  Their skin was of a velvety black, and shone with a peculiar lustre.  Their teeth were beautifully formed and of dazzling whiteness, their eyes large and lustrous, and their lips thinner than we usually find them among these people.  They wore their hair neatly parted, and arranged in pretty curls round the head.  Poor creatures, who knows into what hands they might fall!  They bowed their heads in anguish, without uttering a syllable.  The sight of the slave-market here inspired me with a feeling of deep melancholy.  The poor creatures did not seem so careless and merry as those whom I had seen on the market-place at Constantinople.  In Cairo the slaves seemed badly kept; they lay in little tents, and were driven out, when a purchaser appeared, very much in the manner of cattle.  They were only partially clothed in some old rags, and looked exhausted and unhappy.

During my short stay at Cairo one of the chief feasts of the Mahommedans—­namely, the Mashdalansher, or birthday of the Prophet—­ occurred.  This feast is celebrated on a great open space outside the town.  A number of large tents are erected; they are open in front, and beneath their shelter all kinds of things are carried on.  In one tent, Mahommedans are praying; in another, a party of dervishes throw themselves with their faces to the ground and call upon Allah; while in a third, a juggler or storyteller may be driving his trade.  In the midst of all stood a large tent, the entrance to which was concealed by curtains.  Here the “bayaderes” were dancing; any one can obtain admission by paying a trifling sum.  Of course I went in to see these celebrated dancers.  There were, however, only two pairs; two boys were elegantly clothed in a female garb, richly decorated with gold coins.  They