EGYPTIAN, IN THE NIZAM DRESS.EGYPTIAN, IN THE NIZAM DRESS.
When we were seated on the divan we commenced the usual routine of Oriental compliments; and coffee was handed to us in cups entirely covered with large diamonds. A pipe was then brought to the Pasha, but not to us. This pipe was about seven feet long: the mouthpiece, of light green amber, was a foot long, and a foot more below the mouthpiece, as well as another part of the pipe lower down, was richly set with diamonds of great value, with a diamond tassel hanging to it.
We discoursed for three quarters of an hour about the possibility of laying a railway across the Isthmusof Suez, which was the project then uppermost in the Pasha's mind; but the circumstance which most strongly recalls this audience to my memory, and which struck me as an instance of manners differing entirely from our own, was, in itself, a very trivial one. The Pasha wanted his pocket handkerchief, and looked about and felt in his pocket for it, but could not find it, making various exclamations during his search, which at last were answered by an attendant from the lower end of the room—"Feel in the other pocket," said the servant. "Well, it is not there," said the Pasha. "Look in the other, then." "I have not got a handkerchief," or words to that effect, were replied to immediately,—"Yes, you have;"—"No, I have not;"—"Yes, you have." Eventually this attendant, advancing up to the Pasha, felt in the pocket of his jacket, but the handkerchief was not to be found; then he poked all round the Pasha's waist, to see whether it was not tucked into his shawl: that would not do. So he took hold of his Sovereign and pushed him half over on the divan, and looked under him to see whether he was sitting on the handkerchief; then he pushed him over on the other side. During all which manœuvres the Pasha sat as quietly and passively as possible. The servant then, thrusting his arm up to the elbow in one of the pockets of his Highness's voluminous trousers, pulled out a snuff-box, a rosary, and several other things, which he laid upon the divan. Thatwould not do, either; so he came over to the other pocket, and diving to a prodigious depth he produced the missing handkerchief from the recesses thereof; and with great respect and gravity, thrusting it into the Pasha's hand, he retired again to his place at the lower end of the hall.
After being presented with sherbet, in glass bowls with covers, we took our leave, and rode home through the crowds of persons with paper lanterns, who turn night into day during the month of Ramadan.
The view from that part of the bastions of the citadel which looks over the place of the Roumayli and the great mosque of Sultan Hassan is one of the most extraordinary that can be seen any where. The whole city is displayed at your feet; the numerous domes and minarets, the towers of the Saracenic walls, the flat roofs of the houses, and the narrowness of the streets giving it an aspect very different from that of an European town. You see the Nile and the gardens of Ibrahim Pasha in the island of Rhoda to the left; and the avenue of Egyptian sycamores to the right, leading to the Pasha's country palace of Shoubra. Beyond the Nile, the bare mysterious-looking desert, and the Pyramids standing on their rocky base, lead the mind to dwell upon the mighty deeds of ancient days. The forest of waving palm-trees, around Saccara, stretches away to the south-west, shading the mounds of earth which cover the remains of the vast city of Memphis,in comparison to which London would appear but a secondary town: for if we may judge from the line of pyramids from Giseh to Dashour, which formed the necropolis of Memphis, and the various mounds and dykes and ancient remains which extend along the margin of the Nile for nearly six-and-thirty miles, the extreme length of London being barely eight, and of Paris not much more than four, Memphis must have been larger than London, Paris, and ancient Rome, all united; and judging from the description which Herodotus has given us of the enormous size of the temples and buildings, which are now entirely washed away, in consequence of their having been built on the alluvial plain, which is every year inundated by the waters of the Nile, Memphis in its glory must have exceeded any modern city, as much as the Pyramids exceed any mausoleum which has been erected since those days.
The tombs of the Caliphs, as they are called, although most of them are the burial-place of the Mameluke Sultans of Egypt, are magnificent and imposing buildings. Many of them consist of a mosque built round a court, to which is attached a great hall with a dome, under which is placed the Sultan's tomb. These beautiful specimens of Arabian architecture form a considerable town or city of the dead, on the east and south sides of Cairo, about a mile beyond the walls. I was astonished at their exceeding beauty andmagnificence. Most of them were built during the two centuries preceding the conquest of Egypt, by Sultan Selim, in 1517, who tortured the last of the Mameluke Sultans, Toman Bey, and hung him with a rope, which is yet to be seen dangling over the gate called Bab Zuweyleh, in front of which criminals are still executed.
The mausoleum of Sultan Bergook is a triumph of Saracenic architecture.
The minarets of these tombs are most richly ornamented with tracery, sculpture, and variegated marbles. The walls of many of them are built in alternate layers of red and white or black and white marble. The dome of the tomb of Kaitbay is of stone, sculptured all over with an arabesque pattern; and there are several other domes in different mosques at Cairo equally richly ornamented. I have met with none comparable to them either in Europe or in the Levant. It is strange that none of the Italian architects ever thought of domes covered with rich ornamental work in stone or marble; the effect of those at Cairo is indescribably fine. Unfortunately they are now much neglected; but in the clear dry air of Egypt, time falls more lightly on the works of man than in the damp and chilly climates of the north, and the tombs of the Mameluke sovereigns will probably last for centuries to come if they are not pulled down for the materials, or removed to make way for some paltry lath and plaster edifice which will fall in the lifetime of its builder.
Besides these larger structures, many of the smaller tombs, which are scattered over the desert for miles under the hills of Mokattam, are studies for the architect. There are numerous little domes of beautiful design, richly ornamented doors and gateways, tombs and tomb-stones of all sorts and sizes in infinite variety, most of them so well preserved in this glorious climate that the inscriptions on them are as legible as when they were first put up.
The Pasha has built himself a house in this city of the dead, to which many members of his family have gone before him. This mausoleum consists of several buildings covered with low heavy domes, whitewashed or plastered on the outside. Within, if I remember right, are the tombs of Toussoun and Ismael Pashas, and those of several of his wives, grand-children, and relatives; they repose under marble monuments, somewhat resembling altars in shape, with a tall post or column at the head and feet, as is usual in Turkish graves; the column at the head being carved into the form of the head-dress distinctive of the rank or sex of the deceased. These sepulchral chambers are all carpeted, and Cashmere shawls are thrown over many of the tombs, while in arched recesses there are divans with cushions for the use of those who come to mourn over their departed relatives.
We will now return to the living; but so perfect an account of the Arabian population of Cairo is to befound in Mr. Lane's 'Modern Egypt,' that there is little left to say upon that subject, except that since that work was published the presence of numerous Europeans has diminished the originality of the Oriental manners of this city, and numerous vices and modes of cheating, besides a larger variety of drunken scenes, are offered for the observation of the curious, than existed in the more unsophisticated times, before steamers came to Alexandria, and what is called the overland journey to India was established. The population of Cairo consists of the ruling class, who are all Turks, who speak Turkish, and affect to despise all who have never been rowed in a caïque upon the Bosphorus. Then come the Arabs, the former conquerors of the land; they form the bulk of the population—all the petty tradesmen and cultivators of the soil are of Arab origin. Besides these are the Copts, who are descended from the original lords of the country, the ancient Egyptians, who have left such wonderful monuments of their power. After these may be reckoned the motley crew of Jews, Franks, Armenians, Arabs of Barbary and the Hejaz, Syrians, negroes, and Barabra; but these are but sojourners in the land, and, except the Jews, can hardly be counted among the regular subjects of the Pasha. There are besides, the Levantine Christians, who are under the protection of one or other of the European powers. Many of this class are rich and influential merchants; some of them livein the Oriental style, and others are ambitious to assume the tight clothing and manner of life of the Franks. The older merchants among the Levantines keep more to the Oriental ways of life, while the younger gentlemen and ladies follow the ugly fashion of Europe, particularly the men, who leave off the cool and convenient Eastern dress to swelter in the tight bandages of the Franks; the ladies, on the contrary, are apt to retain the Oriental costume, which in its turn is neither so becoming nor so easy as the Paris fashions. It must be the spirit of contradiction, so natural to the human race, which causes this arrangement; for if the men kept to their old costume they would be more comfortable than they can be with tight clothes, coat-collars, and neckcloths, when the thermometer stands at 112° of Fahrenheit in the coolest shade, besides the dignity of their appearance, which is cast away with the folds of the Turkish or Arabian dress. The ladies would be much improved by the artful devices of the Parisian modistes; for although, when young and pretty, all women look well in almost any dress, the elder ladies are sometimes but little to be admired in the shapeless costumes of the Levant, where the richness of the material does not make up for the want of fit and gracefulness which is the character of their dress. This may easily be imagined when it is understood that both men's and women's dresses may be bought ready made in the bazaar, andthat any dress will fit anybody unless they are supernaturally fat or of dwarfish stature.
An Egyptian lady's dress consists of a pair of immensely full trousers of satin or brocade, or often of a brilliant cherry-coloured silk: these are tied under the knees, and descending to the ground, have the appearance of a very full petticoat. The Arabic name of this garment is Shintian. Over this is worn a shirt of transparent silk gauze (Kamis). It has long full sleeves, which, as well as the border round the neck, are richly embroidered with gold and bright-coloured silks. The edge of the shirt is often seen like a tunic over the trousers, and has a pretty effect. Over this again is worn a long silk gown, open in front and on each side, called a yelek. The fashion is to have the yelek about a foot longer than the lady who wears it; so that its three tails shall just touch the ground when she is mounted on a pair of high wooden clogs, called cobcobs, which are intended for use in the bath, but in which they often clatter about in the house: the straps over the instep, by which these cobcobs are attached to the feet, are always finely worked, and are sometimes of diamonds. The husband gives his bride on their marriage a pair of these odd-looking things, which are about six or eight inches high, and are always carried on a tray on a man's head in marriage processions. The yelek fits the shape in some degree down to the waist; it comes up high upon the neck, and has tightishsleeves, which are long enough to trail upon the ground. "Oh! thou with the long-sleeved yelek" is a common chorus or ending to a stanza in an Arab song. Not round the waist but round the hips a large and heavy Cashmere shawl is worn over the yelek, and the whole gracefulness of an Egyptian dress consists in the way in which this is put on. In the winter a long gown, called Jubeh, is superadded to all this: it is of cloth or velvet, or a sort of stuff made of the Angora goat's hair, and is sometimes lined with fur.
Young girls do not often wear this nor the yelek, but have instead a waistcoat of silk with long sleeves like those of the yelek. This is called an anteri, and over it they wear a velvet jacket with short sleeves, which is so much embroidered with gold and pearls that the velvet is almost hid. Their hair hangs down in numerous long tails, plaited with silk, to which sequins, or little gold coins, are attached. The plaits must be of an uneven number: it would be unlucky if they were even. Sometimes at the end of one of the plaits hangs the little golden bottle of surmeh with which they black the edges of their eyelids; a most becoming custom when it is well done, and not smeared, as it often is, for then the effect is rather like that of a black eye, in the pugilistic sense of the term. On the head is worn a very beautiful ornament called a koors. It is in the shape of a saucer or shallow basin,and is frequently covered with rose diamonds. I am surprised that it has never been introduced into Europe, as it is a remarkably pretty head-dress, with the long tresses of jet black hair hanging from under it, plaited with the shining coins. Round the head a handkerchief is wound, which spoils the effect of all the rest: but a woman in the East is never seen with the head uncovered, even in the house; and when she goes out, the veil, as we call it, though it has no resemblance to a veil, is used to conceal the whole person. A lady enclosed in this singular covering looks like a large bundle of black silk, diversified only by a stripe of white linen extending down the front of her person, from the middle of her nose to her ungainly yellow boots, into which her stockingless feet are thrust for the occasion. The veils of Egypt, of which the outer black silk covering is called a khabara, and the part over the face a boorkoo, are entirely different from those worn in Constantinople, Persia, or Armenia; these are all various in form and colour, complicated and wonderful garments, which it would take too long to describe, but they, as well as the Egyptian one, answer their intended purpose excellently, for they effectually prevent the display of any grace or peculiarity of form or feature.
There is no greater mistake than to suppose that Eastern ladies are prisoners in the harem, and that they are to be pitied for the want of liberty which thejealousy of their husbands condemns them to. The Christian ladies live from choice and habit in the same way as the Mahomedan women: and, indeed, the Egyptian fair ones have more facilities to do as they choose, to go where they like, and to carry on any intrigue than the Europeans; for their complete disguise carries them safely everywhere. No one knows whether any lady he may meet in the bazaar is his wife, his daughter, or his grandmother: and I have several times been addressed by Turkish and Egyptian ladies in the open street, and asked all sorts of questions in a way that could not be done in any European country. The harem, it is true, is by law inviolable: no one but the Sultan can enter it unannounced, and if a pair of strange slippers are seen left at the outer door, the master of the house cannot enter his own harem so long as this proof of the presence of a visitor remains. If the husband is a bore, an extra pair of slippers will at all times keep him out; and the ladies inside may enjoy themselves without the slightest fear of interruption. It is asserted also that gentlemen, who are not too tall, have gone into all sorts of places under the protection of a lady's veil, so completely does it conceal the person. But this is not the case with the Levantine or Christian ladies: although they live in a harem, like the Mahomedans, it is not protected in the same way: the slippers have not the same effect; for the men of the family go in and out wheneverthey please; and relations and visitors of the male sex are received in the apartments of the ladies.
On one occasion I accompanied an English traveller, who had many acquaintances at Cairo, to the house of a Levantine in the vicinity of the Coptic quarter. Whilst we were engaged in conversation with an old lady the curtain over the doorway was drawn aside, and there entered the most lovely apparition that can be conceived, in the person of a young lady about sixteen years old, the daughter of the lady of the house. She had a beautifully fair complexion, very uncommon in this country, remarkably long hair, which hung down her back, and her dress, which was all of the same rich material, rose-coloured silk, shot with gold, became her so well, that I have rarely seen so graceful and striking a figure. She was closely followed by two black girls, both dressed in light-blue satin, embroidered with silver; they formed an excellent contrast to their charming mistress, and were very good-looking in their way, with their slight and graceful figures. The young Levantine came and sat by me on the divan, and was much amused at my blundering attempts at conversation in Arabic, of which I then knew scarcely a dozen words. I must confess that I was rather vexed with her for smoking a long jessamine pipe, which, however, most Eastern ladies do. She got up to wait upon us, and handed us the coffee, pipes, and sherbet, which are always presented to visitors in every house. Thiscustom of being waited upon by the ladies is rather distressing to our European notions of devotion to the fair sex: and I remember being horrified shortly after my arrival in Egypt at the manners of a rich old jeweller to whom I was introduced. His wife, a beautiful woman, superbly dressed in brocade, with gold and diamond ornaments, waited upon us during the whole time that I remained in the house. She was the first Eastern lady I had seen, and I remember being much edified at the way she pattered about on a pair of lofty cobcobs, and the artful way in which she got her feet out of them whenever she came up towards where we sat on the divan, at the upper end of the apartment. She stood at the lower end of the room; and whenever the old brute of a jeweller wanted to return anything, some coins which he was showing me, or anything else, he threw them on the floor; and his beautiful wife jumping out of her cobcobs picked them up; and when she had handed them to some of the maids who stood at the door, resumed her station below the step at the further end of the room. She had magnificent eyes and luxuriant black hair, as they all have, and would have been considered a beauty in any country; but she was not to be compared to the bright little damsel in pink, who, besides her beauty, was as cheerful and merry as a bird, and whose lovely features were radiant with archness and intelligence. Many of the Abyssinian slaves are exceedingly handsome:they have very expressive countenances, and the finest eyes in the world, and, withal, so soft and humble a look, that I do not wonder at their being great favourites in Egyptian harems. Many of them, however, have a temper of their own, which comes out occasionally, and in this respect the Arab women are not much behind them. But the fiery passions of this burning climate pass away like a thunderstorm, and leave the sky as clear and serene as it was before.
The Arab girls of the lower orders are often very pretty from the age of about twelve to twenty, but they soon go off; and the astounding ugliness of some of the old women is too terrible to describe. In Europe we have nothing half so hideous as these brown old women, and this is the more remarkable, because the old men are peculiarly handsome and venerable in their appearance, and often display a dignity of bearing which is seldom to be met with in Europe. The stately gravity of an Arab sheick, seated on the ground in the shade of a tree, with his sons and grandsons standing before him, waiting for his commands, is singularly imposing.
Mohammed Bey, Defterdar—His Expedition to Senaar—His Barbarity and Rapacity—His Defiance of the Pasha—Stories of his Cruelty and Tyranny—The Horse-shoe—The Fight of the Mamelukes—His cruel Treachery—His Mode of administering Justice—The stolen Milk—The Widow's Cow—Sale and Distribution of the Thief—The Turkish Character—Pleasures of a Journey on the Nile—The Copts—Their Patriarchs—The Patriarch of Abyssinia—Basileos Bey—His Boat—An American's choice of a Sleeping-place.
Justbefore my arrival in Cairo a certain Mohammed Bey, Defterdar, had died rather suddenly, after drinking a cup of coffee, a beverage which occasionally disagrees with the great men in Turkey, although not so much so now as in former days. This Defterdar, or accountant, had been sent by the Sultan to receive the Imperial revenue from the Pasha of Egypt, who had given him his daughter in marriage. As the presence of the Defterdar was probably a check upon the projects of the Pasha, he sent him to Senaar, at the head of an expedition, to revenge the death of Toussoun Pasha, his second son, who had been burned alive in his house by one of the exasperated chiefs of Nubia. This was a mission after Mohammed Bey's own heart: he impaled the chief and several of his family, and displayed a rapacity and cruelty unheard of beforeeven in those blood-stained countries. His talent for collecting spoil, and valuables of every description, was first-rate; chests and bags of the pure gold rings used in the traffic of Central Africa accumulated in his tents; he did not stick at a trifle in his measures for procuring gold, pearls, and diamonds, wherever they were to be heard of; streams of blood accompanied his march, and the vultures followed in his track. He was a sportsman too, and hunted slaves, killing the old ones, and carrying off the children, whom he sent to Egypt to be sold. Many died on the journey; but that did not much matter, as it increased the value of the rest.
At last, alter a most successful campaign, the Defterdar returned to his palace at Cairo, which was reported to be filled with treasure. The habits he had acquired in the upper country stuck to him after he got back to Egypt, and the Pasha was obliged to express his disapprobation of the cruelties which were committed by him on the most trivial occasions. The Defterdar, however, set the Pasha at defiance, told him he was no subject of his, but that he was an envoy from his master the Sultan, to whom alone he was responsible, and that he would do as he pleased with those under his command. The Pasha, it is said, made no further remonstrance, and continued to treat his son-in-law with distinguished courtesy.
Numerous stories are told of the cruelty and tyrannyof this man. One day, on his way to the citadel, he found that his horse had cast a shoe. He inquired of his groom, who in Egypt runs by the side of the horse, how it was that his horse had lost his shoe. The groom said he did not know, but that he supposed it had not been well nailed on. Presently they came to a farrier's shop; the Defterdar stopped, and ordered two horseshoes to be brought; one was put upon the horse, and the other he made red hot, and commanded them to nail it firmly to the foot of the groom, whom in that condition he compelled to run by his horse's side up the steep hill which leads to the citadel.
In Turkey it was the custom in the houses of the great to have a number of young men, who in Egypt were called Mamelukes, after that gallant corps had been destroyed. A number of the Mamelukes of Mohammed Bey, Defterdar, driven to desperation by the cruelties of their master, beat or killed one of the superior agas of the household, took some money which they found in his possession, and determined to escape from the service of their tyrant. His guards and kawasses soon found them out, and they retired to a strong tower, which they determined to defend, preferring the remotest chance of successful resistance to the terrors of service under the ferocious Defterdar. The Bey, however, managed to cajole them with promises, and they returned to his palace, expecting to be better treated. They found the Bey seated on hisdivan in the Manderan or hall of audience, surrounded by the officers and kawasses whom interest had attached to his service. The young Mamelukes had given up the money which they had taken, and the Bey had it on the divan by his side. He now told them that if they would divide themselves into two parties and fight against each other, he would pardon the victorious party, present them with the bag of gold, and permit them to depart; but that if they did not agree to this proposal he would kill them all. The Mamelukes, finding they were entrapped, consented to the conditions of the Bey, and half their number were soon weltering in their blood on the floor of the hall. When the conquerors claimed the promised reward, the Defterdar, who had now far superior numbers on his side, again commanded them to divide and fight against each other. Again they fought in despair, preferring death by their own swords to the tortures which they knew the merciless Defterdar would inflict upon them now that he had got them completely in his power. At length only one Mameluke remained, whom the Bey, with kind and encouraging words, ordered to approach, commending his valour and holding out to him the promised bag of gold as his reward. As he approached, stepping over the bodies of his companions, who all lay dead or dying on the floor, and held out his hands for the money, the Defterdar, with a grim smile, made a sign to one of his kawasses, and thehead of the young man rolled at the tyrant's feet "Thus," said he, "shall perish all who dare to offend Mohammed Bey."
The Defterdar was fond of justice, after a fashion, and his mode of administering it was characteristic. A poor woman came before him and complained that one of his kawasses had seized a cup of milk and drunk it, refusing to pay her its value, which she estimated at five paras (a para is the fortieth part of a piastre, which is worth about twopence-halfpenny). The sensitive justice of the Defterdar was roused by this complaint. He asked the woman if she should know the person who had stolen her milk were she to see him again? The woman said she should, upon which the whole household was drawn out before her, and looking round she fixed upon a man as the thief. "Very well," said the Defterdar, "I hope you are sure of your man, and that you have not made a false accusation before me. He shall be ripped open, and if the milk is found in his stomach, you shall receive your five paras; but if there is no milk found, you shall be ripped up in turn for accusing one of my household unjustly." The unfortunate kawass was cut open on the spot; some milk was found in him, and the woman received her five paras.
Another of his judicial sentences was rather an original conception. A man in Upper Egypt stole a cow from a widow, and having killed it, he cut it intotwenty pieces, which he sold for a piastre each in the bazaar. The widow complained to the Defterdar, who seized the thief, and having without further ceremony cut him into twenty pieces, forced twenty people who came into the market on that day from the neighbouring villages to buy a piece of thief each for a piastre; the joints of the robber were thus distributed all over the country, and the story told by the involuntary purchasers of these pounds of flesh had a wholesome effect upon the minds of the cattle-stealers: the twenty piastres were given to the woman, whose cows were not again meddled with during the lifetime of the Defterdar. But the character of this man must not be taken as a sample of the habits of the Turks in general. They are a grave and haughty race, of dignified manners; rapacious they often are, but they are generous and brave, and I do not think that, as a nation, they can be accused of cruelty.
Nothing can be more secure and peaceable than a journey on the Nile, as every one knows nowadays. Floating along in a boat like a house, which stops and goes on whenever you like, you have no cares or troubles but those which you bring with you—"cœlum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt." I can conceive nothing more delightful than a voyage up the Nile with agreeable companions in the winter, when the climate is perfection. There are the most wonderful antiquities for those who interest themselves in theremains of bygone days; famous shooting on the banks of the river, capital dinners, if you know how to make the proper arrangements, comfortable quarters, and a constant change of scene.
The wonders of the land of Ham, its temples and its ruins, have been so well and so often described that I shall not attempt to give any details regarding them, but shall confine myself to some sketches of the Coptic Monasteries which are to be seen on the rocks and deserts, either on the banks of the river or in the neighbourhood of the valley of the Nile.
The ancient Egyptians are now represented by their descendants the Copts, whose ancestors were converted to Christianity in the earliest ages, and whose patriarchs claim their descent, in uninterrupted succession, from St Mark, who was buried at Alexandria, but whose body the Venetians in later ages boast of having transported to their island city.[3]
The Copts look up to their patriarch as the chief of their nation: he is elected from among the brethrenof the great monastery of St. Anthony on the borders of the Red Sea, a proceeding which ensures his entire ignorance of all sublunary matters, and his consequent incapacity for his high and responsible office, unless he chance to be a man of very uncommon talents. Like the patriarch of Constantinople, he is usually a puppet in the hands of a cabal who make use of him for their own interested purposes, and when they have got him into a scrape leave him to get out of it as he can. He is called the Patriarch of Alexandria, but for many years his residence has been at Cairo, where he has a large dreary palace. He is surrounded by priests and acolytes; but when I was last at Cairo there was but one remaining Coptic scribe among them, whom I engaged to copy out the Gospel of St Mark from an ancient MS. in the patriarchal library: however, after a very long delay he copied out St. Matthew's Gospel by mistake, and I was told that there was no other person whose profession it was to copy Coptic writings.
The patriarch has twelve bishops under him, whose residences are at Nagadé, Abou Girgé, Aboutig, Siout, Girgé, Manfalout, Maharaka, the Fioum, Atfeh, Behenesé, and Jerusalem: he also consecrates the Abouna or Patriarch of Abyssinia, who by a specific law must not be a native of that country, and who has not the privilege of naming his successor or consecrating archbishops or bishops, although in other respects his authority in religious matters is supreme.The Patriarch of Abyssinia usually ordains two or three thousand priests at once on his first arrival in that country, and the unfitness of the individual appointed to this high office has sometimes caused much scandal. This has arisen from the difficulty there has often been in getting a respectable person to accept the office, as it involves perpetual banishment from Egypt, and a residence among a people whose partiality to raw meat and other peculiar customs are held as abominations by the Egyptians.
The usual trade and occupation of the Copts is that of kateb, scribe, or accountant; they seem to have a natural talent for arithmetic. They appear to be more afflicted with ophthalmia than the Mohamedans, perhaps because they drink wine and spirits, which the others do not.
The person of the greatest consequence among the Copts was Basileos Bey, the Pasha's confidential secretary and minister of finance. This gentleman was good enough to lend me a magnificent dahabieh or boat of the largest size, which I used for many months. It was an old-fashioned vessel, painted and gilt inside in a brilliant manner, which is not usual in more modern boats; but being a person of a fanciful disposition, I preferred the roomy proportions and the quaint arabesque ornaments of this boat, although it was no very fast sailer, to the natty vessels which were more Europeanised and quicker than mine. The principalcabin was about ten feet by twelve, and was ornamented with paintings of peacocks of a peculiar breed and nondescript flowers. The divans, one on each side, were covered with fine carpets, and the cushions were of cloth of gold, with a raised pattern of red velvet. The ceilings were gilt, and we had two red silk flags of prodigious dimensions in addition to streamers forty or fifty feet long at the end of each of the yard-arms: in short, it was full of what is called fantasia in the Levant, and as for its slowness, I consider that rather an advantage in the East. I like to take my time and look about me, and sit under a tree on a carpet when I get to an agreeable place, and I am in no hurry to leave it; so the heavy qualities of the vessel suited me exactly—we did nothing but stop everywhere. But although I confess that I like deliberate travelling, I do not carry my system to the extent of an American friend with whom I once journeyed from the shores of the Black Sea to Hungary. We were taking a walk together in the mountains near Mahadia, when seeing him looking about among the rocks I asked him what he wanted. "Oh," said he, "I am looking out for a good place to go to sleep in, for there is a beautiful view here, and I like to sleep where there is a fine prospect, that I may enjoy it when I awake; so good afternoon, and if you come back this way mind you call me." Accordingly an hour or two afterwards I came back and aroused myfriend, who was still fast asleep. "I hope you enjoyed your nap," said I; "we had a glorious walk among the hills." "Yes," said he, "I had a famous nap." "And what did you think of the view when you awoke?" "The view!" exclaimed he, "why, I forgot to look at it!"
Visit to the Coptic Monasteries near the Natron Lakes—The Desert of Nitria—Early Christian Anchorites—St. Macarius of Alexandria—His Abstinence and Penance—Order of Monks founded by him—Great increase of the Number of ascetic Monks in the Fourth Century—Their subsequent decrease, and the present ruined state of the Monasteries—Legends of the Desert—Capture of a Lizard—Itsalarmingescape—The Convent of Baramous—Night attacks—Invasion of Sanctuary—Ancient Glass Lamps—Monastery of Souriani—Its Library and Coptic MSS.—The Blind Abbot and his Oil-cellar—The persuasive powers of Rosoglio—Discovery of Syriac MSS.—The Abbot's supposed treasure.
Inthe month of March, 1837, I left Cairo for the purpose of visiting the Coptic monasteries in the neighbourhood of the Natron lakes, which are situated in the desert to the north-west of Cairo, on the western side of the Nile. I had some difficulty in procuring a boat to take me down the river—indeed there was not one to be obtained; but two English gentlemen, on their way from China to England, were kind enough to give me a passage in their boat to the village of Terrané, the nearest spot upon the banks of the Nile to the monasteries which I proposed to visit.
The Desert of Nitria is famous in the annals ofmonastic history as the first place to which the Anchorites, in the early ages of Christianity, retired from the world in order to pass their lives in prayer and contemplation, and in mortification of the flesh. It was in Egypt where monasticism first took its rise, and the Coptic monasteries of St. Anthony and St. Paul claim to be founded on the spots where the first hermits established their cells on the shores of the Red Sea. Next in point of antiquity are the monasteries of Nitria, of which we have authentic accounts dated as far back as the middle of the second century; for about the year 150A.D.Fronto retired to the valleys of the Natron lakes with seventy brethren in his company. The Abba Ammon (whose life is detailed in the 'Vitæ Patrum' of Rosweyd, Antwerp, 1628, a volume of great rarity and dulness, which I only obtained after a long search among the mustiest of the London book-stalls) flourished, or rather withered, in this desert in the beginning of the fourth century. At this time also the Abba Bischoi founded the monastery still called after his name, which, it seems, was Isaiah or Esa: the Coptic article Pe or Be makes it Besa, under which name he wrote an ascetic work, a manuscript of which, probably almost if not quite as old as his time, I procured in Egypt. It is one of the most ancient manuscripts now extant.
But the chief and pattern of all the recluses of Nitria was the great St. Macarius of Alexandria, whose feast-day—a day which he never observed himself—is still kept by the Latins on the 2nd, and by the Greeks on the 19th of January. This famous saint died A.D. 394, after sixty years of austerities in various deserts: he first retired into the Thebaid in the year 335, and about the year 373 established himself in a solitary cell on the borders of the Natron lakes. Numerous anchorites followed his example, all living separately, but meeting together on Sundays for public prayer. Self-denial and abstinence were their great occupations; and it is related that a traveller having given St. Macarius a bunch of grapes, he sent it to another brother, who sent it to a third, and at last, the grapes having passed through the hands of some hundreds of hermits, came back to St. Macarius, who rejoiced at such a proof of the abstinence of his brethren, but refused to eat of it himself. This same saint having thoughtlessly killed a gnat which was biting him, he was so unhappy at what he had done, that to make amends for his inadvertency, and to increase his mortifications, he retired to the marshes of Scete, where there were flies whose powerful stings were sufficient to pierce the hide of a wild boar; here he remained six months, till his body was so much disfigured that his brethren on his return only knew him by the sound of his voice. He was the founder of the monastic order which, as well as the monastery still existing on the site of his cell, wascalled after his name. By their rigid rule the monks are bound to fast the whole year, excepting on Sundays and during the period between Easter and Whitsuntide: they were not to speak to a stranger without leave. During Lent St. Macarius fasted all day, and sometimes ate nothing for two or three days together; on Sundays, however, he indulged in a raw cabbage-leaf, and in short set such an example of abstinence and self-restraint to the numerous anchorites of the desert, that the fame of his austerities gained him many admirers. Throughout the middle ages his name is mentioned with veneration in all the collections of the lives of the saints: he is represented pointing out the vanities of life in the great fresco of the Triumph of Death, by Andrea Orcagna, in the Campo Santo at Pisa. In his Life in Caxton's 'Golden Legende,' and in 'The Lives of the Fathers,' by Wynkyn de Worde, a detailed account will be found of a most interesting conversation which Macarius had with the devil, touching divers matters. Several of his miracles are also put into modern English, in Lord Lindsay's book of Christian Art. I have a MS. of the Gospels in Coptic, written by the hand of one Zapita Leporos, under the rule of the great Macarius, in the monastery of Laura, about the year 390, and which may have been used by the Saint himself.
After the time of Macarius the number of ascetic monks increased to a surprising amount. Rufinus,who visited them in the year 372, mentions fifty of their convents; Palladius, who was there in the year 387, reckons the devotees at five thousand. St Jerome also visited them, and their number seems to have been kept up without much diminution for several centuries.[4]After the conquest of Egypt by the Arabians, and about the year 967, a Mahomedan author, Aboul Faraj of Hispahan, wrote a book of poems, called the 'Book of Convents,' which is in praise of the habits and religious devotion of the Christian monks. The dilapidated monastery of St. Macarius was repaired and fortified by Sanutius, Patriarch of Alexandria, at which good work he laboured with his own bands: this must have been about the year 880, as he died in 881. In more recent times the multitude of ascetics gradually decreased, and but few travellers have extended their researches to their arid haunts. At present only four monasteries remain entire, although the ruins of many others may still be traced in the desert tracts on the west side of the line of the Natron lakes, and the valley of the waterless river, which, at some very remote period, is supposed to have formed the bed of one of the branches of the Nile.
At the village of Terrané I was most hospitably received by an Italian gentleman, who was superintending the export of the natron. Here I procured camels; I had brought a tent with me; and the nextday we set off across the plain, with the Arabs to whom the camels belonged, and who, having been employed in the transport of the natron, were able to show us the way, which it would have been very difficult to trace without their help. The memory of the devils and evil spirits who, according to numerous legends, used formerly to haunt this desert, seemed still to awaken the fears of these Arab guides. During the first day's journey I talked to them on the subject, and found that their minds were full of superstitious fancies.
It is said that tailors sometimes stand up to rest themselves, and on that principle I had descended from my huge, ungainly camel, who had never before been used for riding, and whose swinging paces were very irksome, and was resting myself by walking in his shade, when seeing something run up to a large stone which lay in the way, I moved it to see what it was. I found a lizard, six or eight inches long, of a species with which I was unacquainted. I caught the reptile by the nape of the neck, which made him open his ugly mouth in a curious way, and he wriggled about so much that I could hardly hold him. Judging that he might be venomous, I looked about for some safe place to put him, and my eye fell upon the large glass lantern which was used in the tent; that, I thought, was just the thing for my lizard, so I put him into the lantern, which hung at the side ofthe baggage camel, intending to examine him at my leisure in the evening. When the sun was about to set, the tent was pitched, and a famous fire lit for the cook. It was in a bare, open place, without a hill, stock, or stone in sight in any direction all around. The camels were tethered together, near the baggage, which was piled in a heap to the windward of the fire; and, as it was getting dark, one of the Arabs took the lantern to the fire to light it. He got a blazing stick for this purpose, and held up the lantern close to his face to undo the hasp, which he had no sooner accomplished than out jumped the lizard upon his shoulder and immediately made his escape. The Arab, at this unexpected attack, gave a fearful yell, and dashing the lantern to pieces on the ground, screamed out that the devil had jumped upon him and had disappeared in the darkness, and that he was certain he was waiting to carry us all off. The other Arabs were seriously alarmed, and for a long while paid no attention to my explanation about the lizard, which was the cause of all the disturbance. The worst of the affair was that the lantern being broken to bits, we could have no light; for the wind blew the candles out, notwithstanding our most ingenious efforts to shelter them. The Arabs were restless all night, and before sunrise we were again under way, and in the course of the day arrived at the convent of Baramous. This monastery consisted of a high stone wall, surrounding a squareenclosure, of about an acre in extent. A large square tower commanded the narrow entrance, which was closed by a low and narrow iron door. Within there was a good-sized church in tolerable preservation, standing nearly in the centre of the enclosure, which contained nothing else but some ruined buildings and a few large fig-trees, growing out of the disjointed walls. Two or three poor-looking monks still tenanted the ruins of the abbey. They had hardly anything to offer us, and were glad to partake of some of the rice and other eatables which we had brought with us. I wandered about among the ruins with the half-starved monks following me. We went into the square tower, where, in a large vaulted room with open unglazed windows, were forty or fifty Coptic manuscripts on cotton paper, lying on the floor, to which several of them adhered firmly, not having been moved for many years. I only found one leaf on vellum, which I brought away. The other manuscripts appeared to be all liturgies; most of them smelling of incense when I opened them, and well smeared with dirt and wax from the candles which had been held over them during the reading of the service.
I took possession of a half-ruined cell, where my carpets were spread, and where I went to sleep early in the evening; but I had hardly closed my eyes before I was so briskly attacked by a multitude of ravenous fleas, that I jumped up and ran out into thecourt to shake myself and get rid if I could of my tormentors. The poor monks, hearing my exclamations, crept out of their holes and recommended me to go into the church, which they said would be safe from the attacks of the enemy. I accordingly took a carpet which I had well shaken and beaten, and lay down on the marble floor of the church, where I presently went to sleep. Again I was awakened by the wicked fleas, who, undeterred by the sanctity of my asylum, renewed their attack in countless legions. The slaps I gave myself were all in vain; for, although I slew them by dozens in my rage, others came on in their place. There was no withstanding them, and, fairly vanquished, I was forced to abandon my position, and walk about and look at the moon till the sun rose, when my villainous tormentors slunk away and allowed me a short snatch of the repose which they had prevented my enjoying all night.
There were several curious lamps in this church formed of ancient glass, like those in the mosque of Sultan Hassan at Cairo, which are said to be of the same date as the mosque, and to be of Syrian manufacture. These, which were in the shape of large open vases, were ornamented with pious sentences in Arabic characters, in blue on a white ground.[5]They werevery handsome, and, except one of the same kind, which is now in England, in the possession of Mr. Magniac, I never saw any like them. They are probably some of the most ancient specimens of ornamental glass existing, excepting, of course, the vases and lachrymatories of the classic times.
Quitting the monastery of Baramous, we went to that of Souriani, where we left our baggage and tent, and proceeded to visit the monasteries of Amba Bischoi and Abou Magar, or St. Macarius, both of which were in very poor condition. These monasteries are so much alike in their plan and appearance, that the description of one is the description of all. I saw none but the church books in either of them, and at the time of my visit they were apparently inhabited only by three or four monks, who conducted the services of their respective churches.
On this journey we passed many ruins and heaps of stones nearly level with the ground, the remains of some of the fifty monasteries which once flourished in the wilderness of Scete.
In the evening I returned to Souriani, where I was hospitably received by the abbot and fourteen or fifteen Coptic monks. They provided me with an agreeable room looking into the garden within the walls. My servants were lodged in some other small cells or rooms near mine, which happily not being tenanted by fleas or any other wild beasts of prey, was exceedinglycomfortable when my bright-coloured carpets and cushions were spread upon the floor; and, after the adventures of the two former nights, I rested in great comfort and peace.
In the morning I went to see the church and all the other wonders of the place, and on making inquiries about the library, was conducted by the old abbot, who was blind, and was constantly accompanied by another monk, into a small upper room in the great square tower, where we found several Coptic manuscripts. Most of these were lying on the floor, but some were placed in niches in the stone wall. They were all on paper, except three or four. One of these was a superb manuscript of the Gospels, with commentaries by the early fathers of the church; two others were doing duty as coverings to a couple of large open pots or jars, which had contained preserves, long since evaporated. I was allowed to purchase these vellum manuscripts, as they were considered to be useless by the monks, principally I believe because there were no more preserves in the jars. On the floor I found a fine Coptic and Arabic dictionary. I was aware of the existence of this volume, with which they refused to part. I placed it in one of the niches in the wall; and some years afterwards it was purchased for me by a friend, who sent it to England after it had been copied at Cairo. They sold me two imperfect dictionaries, which I discovered loaded with dust upon theground. Besides these, I did not see any other books but those of the liturgies for various holy days. These were large folios on cotton paper, most of them of considerable antiquity, and well begrimed with dirt.
The old blind abbot had solemnly declared that there were no other books in the monastery besides those which I had seen; but I had been told, by a French gentleman at Cairo, that there were many ancient manuscripts in the monks' oil cellar; and it was in pursuit of these and the Coptic dictionary that I had undertaken the journey to the Natron lakes. The abbot positively denied the existence of these books, and we retired from the library to my room with the Coptic manuscripts which they had ceded to me without difficulty; and which, according to the dates contained in them, and from their general appearance, may claim to be considered among the oldest manuscripts in existence, more ancient certainly than many of the Syriac MSS. which I am about to describe.
The abbot, his companion, and myself sat down together. I produced a bottle of rosoglio from my stores, to which I knew that all Oriental monks were partial; for though they do not, I believe, drink wine because an excess in its indulgence is forbidden by Scripture, yet ardent spirits not having been invented in those times, there is nothing said about them in the Bible; and at Mount Sinai and all the other spots of sacred pilgrimage the monks comfort themselves witha little glass or rather a small coffee cup of arrack or raw spirits when nothing better of its kind is to be procured. Next to the golden key, which masters so many locks, there is no better opener of the heart than a sufficiency of strong drink,—not too much, but exactly the proper quantity judiciously exhibited (to use a chemical term in the land of Al Chémé, where alchemy and chemistry first had their origin). I have always found it to be invincible; and now we sat sipping our cups of the sweet pink rosoglio, and firing little compliments at each other, and talking pleasantly over our bottle till some time passed away, and the face of the blind abbot waxed bland and confiding; and he had that expression on his countenance which men wear when they are pleased with themselves and bear goodwill towards mankind in general. I had by the bye a great advantage over the good abbot, as I could see the workings of his features and he could not see mine, or note my eagerness about the oil-cellar, on the subject of which I again gradually entered. "There is no oil there," said he. "I am curious to see the architecture of so ancient a room," said I; "for I have heard that yours is a famous oil-cellar." "It is a famous cellar," said the other monk. "Take another cup of rosoglio," said I. "Ah!" replied he, "I remember the days when it overflowed with oil, and then there were I do not know how many brethren here with us. But now we are few and poor;bad times are come over us: we are not what we used to be." "I should like to see it very much," said I; "I have heard so much about it even at Cairo. Let us go and see it; and when we come back we will have another bottle; and I will give you a few more which I have brought with me for your private use."
This last argument prevailed. We returned to the great tower, and ascended the steep flight of steps which led to its door of entrance. We then descended a narrow staircase to the oil-cellar, a handsome vaulted room, where we found a range of immense vases which formerly contained the oil, but which now on being struck returned a mournful, hollow sound. There was nothing else to be seen: there were no books here: but taking the candle from the hands of one of the brethren (for they had all wandered in after us, having nothing else to do), I discovered a narrow low door, and, pushing it open, entered into a small closet vaulted with stone which was filled to the depth of two feet or more with the loose leaves of the Syriac manuscripts which now form one of the chief treasures of the British Museum. Here I remained for some time turning over the leaves and digging into the mass of loose vellum pages; by which exertions I raised such a cloud of fine pungent dust that the monks relieved each other in holding our only candle at the door, while the dust made us sneeze incessantly as we turned over the scattered leaves of vellum. I had extractedfour books, the only ones I could find which seemed to be tolerably perfect, when two monks who were struggling in the corner pulled out a great big manuscript of a brown and musty appearance and of prodigious weight, which was tied together with a cord. "Here is a box!" exclaimed the two monks, who were nearly choked with the dust; "we have found a box, and a heavy one too!" "A box!" shouted the blind abbot, who was standing in the outer darkness of the oil-cellar—"A box! Where is it? Bring it out! bring out the box! Heaven be praised! We have found a treasure! Lift up the box! Pull out the box! A box! A box! Sandouk! sandouk!" shouted all the monks in various tones of voice. "Now then let us see the box! bring it out to the light!" they cried. "What can there be in it?" and they all came to help and carried it away up the stairs, the blind abbot following them to the outer door, leaving me to retrace my steps as I could with the volumes which I had dug out of their literary grave.
View from the Convent Wall—Appearance of the Desert—Its grandeur and freedom—Its contrast to the Convent Garden—Beauty and luxuriance of Eastern Vegetation—Picturesque Group of the Monks and their Visitors—The Abyssinian Monks—Their appearance—Their austere mode of Life—The Abyssinian College—Description of the Library—The mode of Writing in Abyssinia—Immense Labour required to write an Abyssinian book—Paintings and Illuminations—Disappointment of the Abbot at finding the supposed Treasure-box only an old Book—Purchase of the MSS. and Books—The most precious left behind—Since acquired for the British Museum.
Onleaving the dark recesses of the tower I paused at the narrow door by which we had entered, both to accustom my eyes to the glare of the daylight, and to look at the scene below me. I stood on the top of a steep flight of stone steps, by which the door of the tower was approached from the court of the monastery: the steps ran up the inside of the outer wall, which was of sufficient thickness to allow of a narrow terrace within the parapet; from this point I could look over the wall on the left hand upon the desert, whose dusty plains stretched out as far as I could see, in hot and dreary loneliness to the horizon. To those who are not familiar with the aspect of such a region as this, it may be well to explain that a desert such as that which now surrounded me resembles more than anythingelse a dusty turnpike-road in England on a hot summer's day, extended interminably, both as to length and breadth. A country of low rounded hills, the surface of which is composed entirely of gravel, dust, and stones, will give a good idea of the general aspect of a desert. Yet, although parched and dreary in the extreme from their vastness and openness, there is something grand and sublime in the silence and loneliness of these burning plains; and the wandering tribes of Bedouins who inhabit them are seldom content to remain long in the narrow inclosed confines of cultivated land. There is always a fresh breeze in the desert, except when the terrible hot wind blows; and the air is more elastic and pure than where vegetation produces exhalations which in all hot climates are more or less heavy and deleterious. The air of the desert is always healthy, and no race of men enjoy a greater exemption from weakness, sickness, and disease than the children of the desert, who pass their lives in wandering to and fro in search of the scanty herbage on which their flocks are fed, far from the cares and troubles of busy cities, and free from the oppression which grinds down the half-starved cultivators of the fertile soil of Egypt.
Whilst from my elevated position I looked out on my left upon the mighty desert, on my right how different was the scene! There below my feet lay the convent garden in all the fresh luxuriance of tropical vegetation.Tufts upon tufts of waving palms overshadowed the immense succulent leaves of the banana, which in their turn rose out of thickets of the pomegranate rich with its bright green leaves and its blossoms of that beautiful and vivid red which is excelled by few even of the most brilliant flowers of the East. These were contrasted with the deep dark green of the caroub or locust-tree; and the yellow apples of the lotus vied with the clusters of green limes with their sweet white flowers which luxuriated in a climate too hot and sultry for the golden fruit of the orange, which is not to be met with in the valley of the Nile. Flowers and fair branches exhaling rich perfume and bearing freshness in their very aspect became more beautiful from their contrast to the dreary arid plains outside the convent walls, and this great difference was owing solely to there being a well of water in this spot from which a horse or mule was constantly employed to draw the fertilizing streams which nourished the teeming vegetation of this monastic garden.
I stood gazing and moralizing at these contrasted scenes for some time; but at length when I turned my eyes upon my companions and myself, it struck me that we also were somewhat remarkable in our way. First there was the old blind grey-bearded abbot, leaning on his staff, surrounded with three or four dark robed Coptic monks, holding in their hands the lighted candles with which we had explored the secretrecesses of the oil-cellar; there was I dressed in the long robes of a merchant of the East, with a small book in the breast of my gown and a big one under each arm; and there were my servants armed to the teeth and laden with old books; and one and all we were so covered with dirt and wax from top to toe, that we looked more as if we had been up the chimney than like quiet people engaged in literary researches. One of the monks was leaning in a brown study upon the ponderous and gigantic volume in its primæval binding, in the interior of which the blind abbot had hoped to find a treasure. Perched upon the battlements of this remote monastery we formed as picturesque a group as one might wish to see; though perhaps the begrimed state of our flowing robes as well as of our hands and faces would render a somewhat remote point of view more agreeable to the artist than a closer inspection.
While we had been standing on the top of the steps, I had heard from time to time some incomprehensible sounds which seemed to arise from among the green branches of the palms and fig-trees in a corner of the garden at our feet. "What," said I to a bearded Copt, who was seated on the steps, "is that strange howling noise which I hear among the trees? I have heard it several times when the rustling of the wind among the branches has died away for a moment. It sounds something like a chant, or adismal moaning song: only it is different in its cadence from anything that I have heard before." "That noise," replied the monk, "is the sound of the service of the church which is being chanted by the Abyssinian monks. Come down the steps and I will show you their chapel and their library. The monastery which they frequented in this desert has fallen to decay; and they now live here, their numbers being recruited occasionally by pilgrims on their way from Abyssinia to Jerusalem, some of whom pass by each year; not many now, to be sure; but still fewer return to their own land."
Giving up my precious manuscripts to the guardianship of my servants and desiring them to put them down carefully in my cell, I accompanied my Coptic friend into the garden, and turning round some bushes, we immediately encountered one of the Abyssinian monks walking with a book in his hand under the shade of the trees. Presently we saw three or four more; and very remarkable looking persons they were. These holy brethren were as black as crows; tall, thin, ascetic looking men of a most original aspect and costume. I have seen the natives of many strange nations, both before and since, but I do not know that I ever met with so singular a set of men, so completely the types of another age and of a state of things the opposite to European, as these Abyssinian Eremites. They were black, as I have already said, which is notthe usual complexion of the natives of Habesh; and they were all clothed in tunics of wash leather made, they told me, of gazelle skins. This garment came down to their knees, and was confined round their waist with a leathern girdle. Over their shoulders they had a strap supporting a case like a cartridge-box, of thick brown leather, containing a manuscript book; and above this they wore a large shapeless cloak or toga, of the same light yellow wash leather as the tunic; I do not think that they wore anything on the head, but this I do not distinctly remember. Their legs were bare, and they had no other clothing, if I may except a profuse smearing of grease; for they had anointed themselves in the most lavish manner, not with the oil of gladness, but with that of castor, which however had by no means the effect of giving them a cheerful countenance; for although they looked exceedingly slippery and greasy, they seemed to be an austere and dismal set of fanatics: true disciples of the great Macarius, the founder of these secluded monasteries, and excellently calculated to figure in that grim chorus of his invention, or at least which is called after his name, "La danse Macabre," known to us by the appellation of the Dance of Death. They seemed to be men who fasted much and feasted little; great observers were they of vigils, of penance, of pilgrimages, and midnight masses; eaters of bitter herbs for conscience' sake. It was such men as thesewho lived on the tops of columns, and took up their abodes in tombs, and thought it was a sign of holiness to look like a wild beast—that it was wicked to be clean, and superfluous to be useful in this world; and who did evil to themselves that good might come. Poor fellows! they meant well, and knew no better; and what more can be said for the endeavours of the best of men?
Accompanied by a still increasing number of these wild priests we traversed the shady garden, and came to a building with a flat roof, which stood in the south-east corner of the enclosure and close to the outer wall. This was the college or consistory of the Abyssinian monks, and the accompanying sketch made upon the spot will perhaps explain the appearance of this room better than any written description. The round thing upon the floor is a table upon which the dishes of their frugal meal were set; by the side of this low table we sat upon the ground on the skin of some great wild beast, which did duty as a carpet. This room was also their library, and on my remarking the number of books which I saw around me they seemed proud of their collection, and told me that there were not many such libraries as this in their country. There were perhaps nearly fifty volumes, and as the entire literature of Abyssinia does not include more than double that number of works, I could easily imagine that what I saw around me formed a very considerable accumulationof manuscripts, considering the barbarous state of the country from which they came.