The Tomahawk., 1916-01-27

r HAVE come on horseback over
reed-covered swamps and burning
desert to an enigmatical looking
Il building which tras the shapeless-
ness and silence of a ruin, writes
traveller in the Sahara desert The
cream colOred walls are lined, patched,
broken, gigantic. 1t is a rectangular
fortress. There is but the entrance,
and that is a small one and heavily
barred. A bell rope hangs down the
wall by the door. Jingle, jangle!
ring the bell. There is long silence
and I ring again. Then a disheveled,
barefooted monk laboriously undoes
the little door in the wall, present the
letter which bear from the patriarch,
and I am admitted.
The monks are pleased; all shake
hands. I sit on one divan and five of
them on another. A novice washes
my hands, another brings me a glass
of brown liquid-water full Of medlar
fiber in suspension. When I finish
this he brings a glass Of pink sugar
water, then coffee all rOund-thimble-
fuls of sweet coffee. The abbot, 8
fine looking fellow with regular fea-
lures, broad face, black mustache and
beard, and with an open space show
ing the freshness of the lower lip, Is
talkative. He has a towel wrapped
round his brows for turban, and fin
gers black beads as he talks. Next
to him is comfortable looking monk
in blue smock and a white knitted
skull cap on his head. Next to him,
an old fellow with wizened bare legs
and feet, old yellow rags on his griz-
zled head, ragged black cassock over
his gray underclothes.
What do you do all day." asked.
Pray, read, sing" they answered.
What do you think Of the warp
THE war does not touch us. If they
come and kill us we do not mind, but
we pray each day that God will bring
it soon to close"
IF the Arabs come, what will you
do?"
IF they shoot at us we will throw
bread to them; that will be our reply"
Are you content to live out here
in the Sahara while all sorts Of great
events are happening in the world,
and content to have no news and
never mix with the people Of the city?
I'm England we are too busy, one could
not escape to a place like this even
if one wanted to-"
The abbot gave me a remarkable
reply:
II think there is room for everybody
one seeks money, that is his way;
another does his duty and plows, that
is his way There are many ways.
You know of Martha and Mary. Mar
tina was right, but Marys good part
was right ALSO"
They Are Christian Fanatics.
There were only sixteen monks, and
including hermits there would not be
more than $50 of these holy men in
the desert altogether. There remain
but four monasteries, whereas in the
fourth century there were several hun
dred. Seven thousand holy bachelors
and virgins learned of Ammon and his
vigil VI luC dlOAC. lulu llNCu llLHJ
of the most eccentric Of the hermits
and world deniers Of the early church,
the men who without knowing it gave
Christianity tremendous ADVERTISE
ment. The men who prayed to God,
kneeling for years on the tops of high
columns, the men and women who
had themselves bound to crosses or
laden with irons, the saints who
tanned the beasts Of the forest, all
gave to Christianity public interest
and interesting lore. 1t became even
fashionable to retire to Nitria and
deny the world. Monasteries sprang
up over the caves and cells Of the
saints, and gold and jewels poured in
to the monasteries. Art was bes-
towed on the building of new churches,
and celebrated artists painted the fres-
Goes on the walls. Not an inch Of
these little desert temples was left I'M
covered by Byzantine fresco.
But the Saracen came and murdered
the cultured clergy, and tore away the
Jewels, as was fit, and rolled down
many a wall wrecked many an altar.
The holy brotherhood was annihilated
and there was sixty-years' gap in
history. Then wilder type Of Chris
tan took possession, converted Arabs,
for the most part, and they knew little
Coptic, ana so brought Arabic gospels