CHAPTER VIII.
ARCHAIC CHRISTIANITY Dimly lighted by the flames of a few poor slender tapers which flicker against the walls in stone arches, a dense crowd of human figures veiled in black, in a place overpowering and suffocating--underground, no doubt--which is filled with the perfume of the incense of Arabia; and a noise of almost wicked movement, which sirs us to alarm and even horror: bleatings of new-born babies, cries of distress of tiny mites whose voices are drowned, as if on purpose, by a clinking of cymbals.
What can it be?
Why have they descended into this dark hole, these little ones, who howl in the midst of the smoke, held by these phantoms in mourning?
Had we entered it unawares we might have thought it a den of wicked sorcery, an underground cavern for the black mass.
But no.

It is the crypt of the basilica of St.Sergius during the Coptic mass of Easter morning.

And when, after the first surprise, we examine these phantoms, we find that, for the most part, they are young mothers, with the refined and gentle faces of Madonnas, who hold the plaintive little ones beneath their black veils and seek to comfort them.

And the sorcerer, who plays the cymbals, is a kind old priest, or sacristan, who smiles paternally.

If he makes all this noise, in a rhythm which in itself is full of joy, it is to mark the gladness of Easter morn, to celebrate the resurrection of Christ--and a little, too, no doubt, to distract the little ones, some of whom are woefully put out.