Feruzi is one of the few remaining villages in the country which are not Syrian, but the older Chaldean in blood and language. Its inhabitants, who number about a thousand, appear quite different in feature as well as dress from the people of the surrounding district. Their costume is a peculiar one, remarkable for its warm colors and long, queerly cut trimmings. The women remind one of American Indians, and the faces of the men are of unusual fierceness. It seemed quite natural that there should be a Chaldean church here, big and gaudy, yet ugly and ill-kept, with a much-prized copy of the Scriptures in the Syriac tongue chained to the lectern; but we saw no structure resembling a Protestant place of worship, and among the crowds that followed us curiously about it was impossible to find any one who looked like a Presbyterian elder. Yet when we turned into the room set apart for the use of the Protestant congregation, some of the wildest and most dangerous-looking men followed. It was a small place, not over twenty feet square, low and dark, and quite bare save for a rough matting on the floor and a chair and a table for the preacher. In a few minutes it was crowded to suffocation. There were over ninety people in the little room. The men sat on one side and the women on the other; but all of us sat on the floor and were so packed together that any change of position was quite impossible, except for a few mothers with babies, who sat near the door. Throughout the long Christmas sermon the cramped audience showed a reverence and an attentiveness that would have shamed many an American congregation. Suppose that a full-blooded Arab in his flowing native dress, should enter one of our churches at home—what a craning of necks there would be, and how few persons would be able to recall the text! We appeared just as outlandish to the people of Feruzi; yet, although we sat at the back of the room, not a person turned to look at us, except that the man at my side would always help me find the place in the hymn book. It was not indifference, but consideration for the stranger and respect for the occasion; and we who had come merely to see an unusual sight, stayed to worship God with these new friends, and went away with a fuller realization of the meaning of Christmas.