“Unable to perform any religious rite without the savage accompaniment of tinkling keys and other discordant sounds, the sacrament of the mass (Corban), the most solemn service of the Church, is also performed amidst the most confused and distracting clangour. The liturgy and consecration service over, all, except the communicants, leave the place of worship. These now approach the vestibule of the holy of holies, where the officiating priests, enveloped in clouds of incense, are busily occupied in washing their hands—this ceremony is copied from Pilate’s example. The water, which this act sanctifies, must not be spilled on the ground, but, as a regeneration emblem, it is sprinkled on the bended heads and the garments of the faithful, whilst the priest says, ‘If you think that I have now cleansed your garments and purified your bodies, and yet continue to cherish hatred and malice in your hearts, I tell you that the body of Christ will prove to be a burning fire to consume you, and His blood a bottomless sea to drown you!’ After this exhortation the tabot, the substitute for the altar, is taken out of the holy of holies, and each communicant receives a small piece of wheaten bread and a spoonful of raisin wine. To prevent the desecration of the sacred elements every one, before he quits the church, drinks a cup of water, and also refrains from expectorating that day.”[133]
The ecclesiastical art of Abyssinia has already been mentioned. Stern has given an account of a singular instance of its development and of an equally strange result of the devotional use of pictures. He visited “Kudus Yohannes, which next to that at Quosquam, is the handsomest and most gorgeously bedaubed of the forty-four churches in and around Gondar.” Here “one aspiring artist, weary perhaps of the antiquated cherubims and saints, the blazing flames and leafy bowers, which are the ordinary ornaments of the churches, had sought immortal fame by painting quite a new subject—the Migration of the Israelites. In his picture he represented them marching in soldier-like attitude over the heaving and surging waves of the Red Sea, clad in British uniform, with muskets and bayonets on their shoulders.” Again, Major Harris, at the time of his mission to Sahela Selassie, who was then Negus, had presented His Majesty with a portrait of Queen Victoria. This “lay securely guarded amidst the regalia of the Ethiopian Empire till the death of the despot. His heir and successor, Hailu Malakot, to atone for some indiscretion, presented it in pious contrition to the Cathedral Church, and there the people flock on all grand festivities to worship it as the representation of the Virgin Mary.”[134]
Reference has been made to certain Abyssinian saints, to whose exploits Major Harris alluded. But these are neither the most notable nor the most venerated in the ecclesiastical chronicles. Tekla Haimanot—facile princeps—“is said to have converted the devil, and induced him to become a monk for forty days, though what became of him afterwards we are at a loss to know. The same holy man, wishing to ascend a steep mountain with perpendicular sides was accommodated in answer to prayer with a boa-constrictor, which took him up on its back.”[135] Before the birth of this saint, “a glorious light rested for several days over the parental house. At the baptism of the child the priest was so dazzled by its supernatural beauty that, lost in admiration, he dropped the babe, and might have killed it, had not an invisible hand kept it suspended above the hard floor.” In due course Tekla Haimanot became a monk, and “the mortifications, self-imposed penances and incredibly long fasts which followed his initiation into the monastic brotherhood are faithfully recorded in the annals of the Church for the edification of the faithful.” Later, he visited the Holy Sepulchre, after marvellous adventures among the Moslems, and was subsequently ordained priest by the Copt Patriarch in Egypt. He then proceeded to the Galla country, where his mother had been kept prisoner, and converted the heathen by hundreds of thousands. On one occasion he repaired to the monastery of Debra Damo, but here “the brotherhood did not much sympathize in the general jubilee that greeted the austere monk. The monastery stands on the summit of a perpendicular rock, and, being quite inaccessible, no visitor can reach it unless drawn up by a rope. The Evil One did not like the ascetic to tamper with the merry fellows on the rock, and, to effect his wicked purpose, he maliciously cut the frail support when Tekla Haimanot was in mid-air, and probably he would have been dashed to pieces in a ravine below, had not immediately six wings unfurled themselves under his garb and borne him aloft. In commemoration of this miraculous volant power, the saint is represented, in most of the churches dedicated to him, as nearly smothered in a profusion of gorgeous plumage.”
Tekla Haimanot’s ascetic practices in “tenantless wastes and malarious jungles” did not suffice him as the years advanced. “He hit upon an original idea of mortifying the flesh. There is in Shoa a small lake, which the saint in his peregrinations had often passed. To these waters he now repaired. The good people who followed him from all parts to hear his discourses and to obtain his blessing entreated him not to expose his precious person to the alligators and other aquatic monsters; but the holy man, who knew that all his exploits for the glory of the Church had not yet been accomplished, fearlessly stepped into the deep. Seven successive years he continued in the water, and probably he would have expired on his liquid couch, had not one of his legs dropped off. The clamour for this valuable relic created quite a dissension in the Church, but the monarch judiciously put a stop to the fierce war between the rival claimants by ordering it to be kept as a Palladium in the royal metropolis. This sacred talisman possesses more wonderful sanitary virtues than all the drugs in the universe. Patients from every province of the country visit the shrine to make votive offerings and to quaff the healing water in which the saint’s leg is weekly washed.”[136]
That the miracles above related are stock miracles—if one may use such a phrase—and that the same legends are connected with more than one saint is evident from the following gesta sanctorum cited by Mansfield Parkyns:—
“Gabro Menfus Kouddos (Slave of the Holy Ghost) was a great saint from his birth; nay, more—he was born a saint. No sooner did he enter the world than he stood up, and three days after his birth he bowed his head thrice, saying in a distinct voice, ‘Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.’ He never tasted of his mother’s milk, nor during the whole period of his life partook of food or drink of any sort. Once, when praying on a mountain, he fell over a precipice two hundred cubits deep. Two angels immediately joined their spread wings under him to support him; but he refused their assistance, saying that he trusted to God alone for help. Another time he was ascending a very high mountain, and, being fatigued, the Holy Trinity came and assisted him. Many other equally absurd and almost blasphemous stories are related of him; at last, after a very long life, I forget of how many years, the Almighty sent Azrael, the angel of death, to take him. But the saint refused to die, saying, that as he had neither eaten nor drunk, he could not die. So all the saints came to him in turn for the purpose of persuading him to leave earth for Paradise. St. John the Baptist first addressed him, saying that he had gone the way of all flesh, notwithstanding his many privations and sufferings. Gabro Menfus Kouddos, however, at once met him with the answer, ‘Yes; but you could not fast even for forty days, but fed on locusts and wild honey.’ Thus he replied to all the saints, and at last even to the Virgin and our Saviour. Still, however, the decrees of the Omnipotent must be obeyed, and his life was taken from him; but then there was a dispute among the elements as to what was to become of his body. The earth refused to receive it, as he had never partaken of her produce. A similar refusal was made by the water, for he had never taken a drop within his lips. The fire had also equally strong objections. So the saint was restored to life, and taken up alive into heaven. His tomb is, however, shown at Zoukwahla in Shoa; but it is said to contain only one of his ribs, which, at the time of his ascent to heaven, he took out and left on earth as a memento for his followers.
“Abouna Aragawy was one of the nine missionaries sent to Abyssinia by St. Athanasius. His doctrine and the miracles which he wrought gained for him many followers; but from some of the unbelieving he suffered persecution. This is the account given by some historians; while others assert that, overcome by his popularity, he sought retirement from this world, in order to devote the remainder of his days to religious duty. Be it as it may, he came to the rock on which is now the celebrated monastery of Debra Damo. After walking several times round it, without finding any means of access to its summit, he prayed to the Almighty, who sent him an enormous boa-constrictor, which offered to carry him up in its mouth; but he said, ‘I fear your mouth; turn round and let me take your tail.’ So the snake did as he was desired; and the saint, holding fast by its tail, was drawn up to the summit of the rock in perfect safety. The snake having performed its duty offered to leave the saint if he wished it; but Aragawy begged that it would remain, making, however, the condition of its not alarming or destroying any of his disciples who might come to visit him. They then took possession of the caves and holes which are in the mountain, where they are by many supposed to be still living. Some, however, pretend that the snake is dead; but no one is so wanting in faith as for a moment to deny that the saint yet lives there, and will continue to live till the day of judgment. No curious person, however, dares to venture into the cave. The monks will not allow lights to be taken in; and the people assert that a spirit which protects the place will not permit any one who enters to come out alive.
“When I first went to Rohabaita it was reported that an immense snake had some years before been killed there by a hunter. The man was severely reproached by the priests, who said that the snake was the guardian angel of the place. It was reported to have been twenty-seven cubits, or forty feet in length, and was probably of the boa tribe.”[137]
Another saint of remarkable powers was Tederos (St. Theodore). He resided at the hamlet near Rohabaita which now bears his name. Here, “on the face of the rock is the little hole wherein he lived; it is barely high enough for a person to squat in; and the marks worn in the stone by the crown of his head, the soles of his feet, and his elbows are still shown. His miracles were many. Among others, a leopard ate up his son, the saint, returning home, missed him, and set out in search of him. When in the forest he called aloud to him three times, and at the third time the leopard appeared: on seeing him, the saint guessed how the matter stood with the unfortunate youth; but, nothing discouraged, he coolly ordered the beast to return him safe and sound. Now this was rather difficult, as the leopard had, no doubt, half digested him; nevertheless, so great was the saint’s power that the boy left the leopard’s maw none the worse, perhaps rather the better, for having been dismembered and reconstructed. Being asked where a church should be built, the saint threw his staff, desiring the inquirers to build where they found the staff had fallen. After many days it was found several miles off in Serawi, on the other side of the valley, exactly on the spot where now stands the church of Debra Mariam.
“Many other wonderful stories were told me of his feats, but I have forgotten them. The most useful act attributed to him was that he caused the rock below him to become hollow, in order to receive the rain-water. The hollow still exists, though I should strongly suspect it to be of Nature’s construction; or, if the saint had a hand in its design, he must have been a clumsy fellow, for with half the labour he might have made a place capable of containing twice the quantity of water.”[138]
Parkyns was not sure of the parentage of the youth who was disgorged by the leopard. “I hope I am right in giving St. Theodore a son,” he wrote. “I don’t know whether his being a father would preclude his being a saint: however, it was a youth nearly related to him, if I remember the story right.”
Some chroniclers “pretend that St. Matthew and St. Bartholomew actually visited the country. Some even go so far as to assert that the Virgin Mary herself, with the child Jesus, came into Abyssinia when she fled to Egypt, and show a place in a high mountain which is called her throne or seat.”[139] Bruce wrote that “in the Synaxar, or history of their saints, one is said to have thrown the devil over a high mountain; another persuaded him to live as a monk for forty years; another had a holy longing for partridges, upon which a brace perched on his plate—martyrs ready roasted.”[140]
“In many cases,” Parkyns wrote, “the patron saint is preferred to the Almighty; and a man who would not hesitate to invoke the name of his Maker in witness to a falsehood would have difficulty in disguising his perjury if he were appealed to in the name of St. Michael or St. George. It is also a well-known fact, and most common of occurrence, that a favour besought in the name of God would often be refused, while, if the request were immediately after repeated in the name of the Virgin or of some favourite saint, it would probably be granted. This may be observed in the appeal of the common street beggar in Tigre, whose ordinary cry is, ‘Silla Izgyheyr! Silla Medhainy Allam!’ (For the sake of God! For the sake of the Saviour!)—while, if he be very importunate, he will change his usual whining tone, and add with persuasive emphasis, ‘Silla Mariam! Silla Abouna Tekla Haimanout!’” (For the sake of Mary! For the sake of Tekla Haimanout!)
It has already been said that Tekla Haimanot and other early celebrities of the Church were monks. Monasteries are plentiful in the land, and there are also hermits who practise asceticism in desolate and lonely places. Mr. Herbert Vivian gained admission to a conventual house, and has given a lively description of it.[141] The sanctity of the Abyssinian monk or anchorite is in proportion to his prowess in mortifying the flesh, and this class of men still retains much religious prestige and influence in the land. But probably the pristine rigour of their life has been much relaxed, and the remarks of Major Cornwallis Harris are applicable at the present time.
“Education was in former days to be obtained alone from the inmate of the monastic abode, and a life of scanty food, austerity, and severe fasting was embraced only by the more enthusiastic. But the skin-cloak and the dirty headdress now envelope the listless monk, who, satisfied with a dreamy and indolent existence, basks during the day on the grassy banks of the sparkling rivulet, and prefers a bare sufficiency of coarse fare to the sweeter morsel earned by the sweat of the brow.”[142]
The same writer’s account of the consecration of a friar is interesting. “The monk is admitted to the order of his choice by any officiating priest. A prayer is repeated, the skull-cap blessed with the sign of the cross, and the ceremony is complete. But a more imposing rite attends the oath of celibacy before the Abouna. The clergy assemble in numbers, and fires are lighted around the person of the candidate. His loins are bound about with the leathern girdle of Saint John, and the prayer and the requiem for the dead rise pealing from the circle. The glaswa—a narrow strip of black cloth adorned with coloured crosses—is then placed on the shaven crown, and shrouded from view by the enveloping shawl; and the archbishop, clad in his robes of state, having repeated the concluding prayer and blessing, signs with his own hand the emblem of faith over the various parts of the body.”[143]
Consul Plowden wrote in a somewhat censorious mood of the Abyssinian regulars. “Monasteries are not wanting to complete the resemblance to the Roman Catholic Church and to the Middle Ages, where every immorality is practised; nor solitary hermits, who dwell in gloomy forests, feeding on roots, and exposed to ferocious animals, and who are sometimes as sincere as they are useless.” He added, “nunneries alone are absent from the picture; though vows of celibacy are sometimes taken, if rarely kept save at an advanced age.”
With regard to religious sisterhoods he was in error. Bruce wrote that, “all women who choose to renounce acquaintance with men are allowed to turn priests, they then wear a skull-cap, like the men; and these priests, male and female, all pretend to possess charms of a nature both offensive and defensive, which are most generally believed in.”[144] The same writer asserted that he and his party on one occasion, after passing the River Taccazze, “at last reached a plain filled with flowering shrubs, roses, jessamines, etc., and animated by a number of people passing to and fro. Several of these were monks and nuns from Waldubba, in pairs, two and two together. The women, who are both young and stout, were carrying large burdens of provisions on their shoulders, which showed that they did not entirely subsist upon the herbs of Waldubba. The monks, their compagnons de voyage, had sallow faces, yellow cowls, and yellow gowns.”[145]
Bruce may have been mistaken as to the character of these young women; but not all who take the vows are strict in the observance of them. Mr. Augustus Wylde met a nun in the flesh, a lady of high rank in the country, whose charms were neither “offensive nor defensive.” He wrote, “before getting to Mokareet we were joined by Ras Mangesha’s young sister. She is supposed to be a nun and devote her time to charity and good actions, and she has asked permission of Hailou to join us and camp with us for the next three or four days. I now quote from my diary—
“I believe this is a got-up job, as Hailou had his hair replaited this morning and put on clean cloths, and the pair are evidently very old friends. She is dressed in the most spotless white garments of the very best quality, and is most clean and neat in her appearance. From under her clean white hood a pretty face appears with a pair of roguish merry eyes. . . . She sent over her pretty waiting-maid as soon as camp was pitched, asking me to come and pay her a visit, but I was too seedy with fever, so sent Schimper to make my excuses; when he came back his first remark in his precise manner of talking was: ‘Oh, Mr. Wylde, I do not think she is a very good lady, she has asked me for many things, and she wants your umbrella.’ Of course I had to send it, and next morning on the way to Merta I had some of the sweetest of smiles, and we kept up a long conversation; she had never seen an Englishman before, and she wanted to know if they all had red heads and moustaches and were big men . . .
“I found out that she was considered very ‘rapid’ even for Abyssinia, where the young ladies are fast, and that her brother had sent her to a nunnery as he could not keep her in order, and she absolutely refused to marry the men of his choice; she was changing her quarters from one nunnery to another, and was evidently sweet on Hailou.”
But Mr. Wylde had met other nuns, “good pious old ladies at Abbi-Addi and Macalle, who fasted for over half the number of days in the year, and were perpetually praying and singing from the early grey dawn till late at night, and they seemed to live a calm and peaceful life in their beautiful natural surroundings, and bothered themselves very little with the troubles of this life, and passed their days in eating, sleeping, and praying, and doing what little acts of charity they could in the way of tending the sick and feeding any poor beggars that came to their houses.”[146]
Many rites and ceremonies of Hebrew origin have been incorporated in Abyssinian Christianity, e.g. circumcision is practised. Considering the history and traditions of the people, this respect for Judaic ordinances is not surprising. Major Harris devoted a chapter of his book to “Abyssinian Rites and Practices which would appear to have been borrowed from the Hebrews,” and most of the authors who have written about the country have alluded to the same subject. Perhaps the most remarkable example of the influence of Jewish doctrines is the veneration in which the tabot is held.
“The Jewish temple consisted of three distinct divisions—the forecourt, the holy, and the holy of holies. To the first laymen were admitted, to the second only the priest, and to the third the high priest alone. All entrance was denied to the Pagan, a custom which is rigorously enforced in Abyssinia; and her churches are in like manner divided into three parts.
“Eight feet in breadth, the first compartment stretches, after the fashion of a corridor, entirely around the building. It is styled Kene Máhelet, and, strewed throughout with green rushes, forms the scene of morning worship. To the right of the entrance is the seat of honour for priests and erudite scribes; and beyond this court, save on certain occasions, the bare foot of the unlearned layman cannot pass.
“Makdas is the second compartment. This is the sanctuary in which the priests officiate, and a corner is set apart for laymen during the administration of the holy supper, whilst a cloth screens the mysteries of the interior. Here also hang, arranged around the walls, the bones of many deceased worthies, which have been carefully gathered from the newly opened sepulchre, and are deposited by the hand of the priest in cotton bags. By the nearest relative the first opportunity is embraced of transporting these mouldering emblems of mortality to the sacred resting-place of Debra Libanos, where the living and the dead are alike blessed with a rich treasure of righteousness, since the remains of Tekla Haimanot, the patron saint of Abyssinia, still shed a bright halo over the scene of his miracles upon earth.
“To Kedis Kedisen, the holy of holies, none but the Alaka[147] is admitted. Behind its veil the sacrament is consecrated, the communion vessels are deposited, and the tremendous mysteries of the tabot, or ark of the covenant, are shrouded from the eyes of the uninitiated. The gold of the foreigner has penetrated the secret of the contents of this box, which are nothing more than a scroll of parchment, on which is inscribed the name of the patron saint of the church; but the priest who dared to open his lips on the subject to one of his own countrymen would incur the heavy penalties due to the sacrilege.”[148]
Another foreigner whose gold “penetrated the secret” of the Kedis Kedisen was Mr. Herbert Vivian. In company with a friend he was, for a consideration of two dollars, admitted to the sanctum sanctorum of the Church of St. Raguel at Entotto. “The custodians seemed to know very well that they were doing wrong, and displayed huge anxiety to get the thing over as quickly as possible. They hurried us up the rickety steps, opened the door of the sanctuary, took great care to keep us as far off as possible, and kept exclaiming, ‘Now that is all. I hope you are satisfied. Let us go away again. You ought really to give us some more dollars for what we have done.’ There was, however, really next to nothing to see. In the darkness I could just make out the tabernacle inside the holy of holies. It was a kind of ark, covered with cheap draperies and surmounted by a crucifix. A few lanterns lay about. That was all. At any rate, that was all that we could induce the priest to show us.”[149]
Mr. Hormuzd Rassam has given a sketch of a tabot in his book, with the following description: “The tabot is a square block of wood on which the emblem of the cross, with some appropriate passage of Scripture, is sometimes represented. No church can be consecrated without it, and in the church from which it has been removed the Lord’s Supper cannot be celebrated. It is placed upon the altar in the centre of the holy of holies, and by the ignorant clergy is regarded with as much veneration as the consecrated elements.”[150] Annually, on the eve of the festival which commemorates Christ’s baptism, the tabot is carried out of the church by the chief officiating priest, “and left all night covered in a tent or hut erected for the purpose near a stream or pool. At daybreak the following morning it is taken to the water, and after being sprinkled with a few drops is again enveloped in the church-cloth, and replaced under the tent until the time arrives for its formal restoration to the church—a grand religious ceremony, accompanied with singing of psalms and dancing.” In this recessional solemnity, which Mr. Rassam saw, “the priests led the way, bearing various sacred symbols, and chanting psalms all the while, followed by a train of about three hundred men and a score of damsels, all dancing, singing, and screeching as they went.”[151]
The appearance of Abyssinian churches has already been alluded to, but the following general description, given by Major Harris, may serve to bring the principles of their construction clearly before the reader. “There are, perhaps, more churches in Abyssinia than in any other part of the Christian world; and he who has erected one believes that he has atoned for every sin. But even the best are very miserable edifices of wattle plastered with mud, only to be distinguished from the surrounding hovels by a thin coating of whitewash, which is dashed over the outside to point with the finger of pride to the peculiar privilege of the two great powers in the land. Circular in form, with a door to each quarter of the compass, and a conical thatch, they have an apex surmounted by a brazen cross, which is usually adorned with ostrich eggs; and the same depraved and heathenish taste pervades the decorations of the interior. Sculpture is strictly forbidden; but the walls are bedaubed with paintings of the patron saint of the church, the Blessed Virgin, and a truly incongruous assemblage of cherubim and fallen angels, with the evil one himself enveloped in hell flames. Timbrels and crutches depend in picturesque confusion from the bare rafters of the roof, and no ceiling protects the head from the descent of the lizard and the spider.”[152] Mr. Hormuzd Rassam has given a sketch of the ground plan of an Abyssinian church, showing the entrances and “courts.”[153] According to him “the outer enclosure is for the congregation generally, male and female, the former occupying the western portion, and praying with their faces towards the east; the latter standing opposite to them and facing the west.”[154]
The “crutches” mentioned by Major Harris astonished Mr. Vivian at a later date. He saw them in a monastery, and “imagined they had been contributed by lame people, to whom the saint of the place had restored the use of their legs. As a matter of fact, however, they were merely the crutches which every priest uses in the ritual of the dance.”[155] The manner in which these singular adjuncts of the priestly office are employed has been described by Mr. Vivian. He attended a service at Trinity Church in Addis Abiba, and has given a very interesting account of the ceremonies. At a certain stage “all the priests grasp their long crutches and go through a kind of gymnastic exercise, which reminds me of the use of spears at a Somali dance. The crutches are five feet long, and must, I imagine, have originally taken their origin from spears, adapted for civilian use. The tops are either of ivory or brass, some of them elaborately carved. . . . One priest acts as conductor, and the others imitate his movements, all singing loudly through their noses. . . . The crutches are held in the middle and darted at the ground, now near, now far, with a forward movement made by slightly bending the right knee. It is as though spears were being poised and aimed playfully at objects on the floor. The crutches are then lifted, crook end up, a foot into the air, they are poised, they are swung, with ever-increasing vigour. All of a sudden the whole exercise ceases without any warning whatever.”[156]
Major Harris wrote, with regard to certain other clerical functions—“The Father Confessor is bound to the strictest secrecy; and it is believed that on this point a dread oath is taken before ordination, when all the mysteries are expounded by the Abouna, and especially those which have reference to the preparation of bread for the holy supper. In a small house styled Bethlehem,[157] which rises immediately behind every church, the mysterious ceremony is performed. The deacon can alone bake the cake; and the most vigilant guard is invariably preserved against the approach or intrusion of females or other improper visitors during the hour of solemn preparation.”[158]
The first appendix to Vol. III. of Major Harris’s book contains a list of the sacred writings used by the Abyssinian Church. These include, inter alia—
The second appendix of the same volume contains a summary of the “Senkesar, or Synaxaria, being a Collectio Vitarum Sanctarum together with the Calendar of the Ethiopic Christian Church.” The compiler of the summary wrote, “The following calendar, translated from the Latin of Ludolf, has been considerably enlarged by a comparison at Ankóber with a complete copy of the ‘Senkesar.’ The lives of the Saints, or the detail of miracles written against each day, are publicly read in the churches at the services beginning at the cock’s first crowing.”
The first month of the Abyssinian year is September. It is not surprising that in the long list of saints, patriarchs, prophets, martyrs, virgins, hermits, kings, “Fathers,” presbyters, emperors, and male and female ascetics whose deeds are commemorated between New Year’s Day (September 1, by Ethiopian reckoning) and the festival of St. Andrew and Moses, Bishop of Ferme, (being the thirtieth and last day of August according to the same computation), there should occur many names of worthies who are unknown to most European readers. For instance—
And many others whose sanctity is as little known in the Western Churches.
If there is anywhere a leisured and adventurous student of comparative hagiology, he would obtain some interesting results by tracing the origin and growth of the legends which glorify these worthies.
A survey of what has been said shows that Consul Plowden was fully justified when he wrote, “the Christianity professed and taught in Abyssinia is much materialized.” Nevertheless, the credulity and superstition which prevail in the country are not in essence grosser than the unwarranted beliefs which were accepted in Europe when the Aurea Legenda passed as sound devotional reading, and it would be as unjustifiable to judge the intellectual capability of the Habashes by their faith in myths as it would have been to estimate the ability of our forefathers by a similar standard. Nor is it certain that any sudden reformation would improve the religious state of the people. An intemperate zeal for enlightening them might, by introducing an ideal far above their real sympathies and comprehension, discredit the old conceptions without effectually substituting the new. Moreover, the fabulous feats of the saints may require a cautious and sparing criticism; for to differentiate the degrees of probability in miracles, among an unscientific but argumentative race, would, perhaps, be more likely to promote scepticism as to all thaumaturgy than to lead to the repudiation of certain miracles and the continued acceptance of others.
It is, of course, the fact that at present “religion” consists of little more than a mere series of outward observances. Veneration of the fabric of the church takes the place of devotion within its precincts. Dufton wrote:—“The prayers are read in Ethiopic” (Geez), “a language which the people know nothing about, so that little profit can be derived from the service. Indeed, most persons content themselves with kissing the floor or the walls of the edifice, and such is a criterion of a man’s piety; he kisses the church, they say, and so esteem him a good Christian. Some will utter a prayer. The petition takes a form similar to the following, which an old woman was heard to offer up during my visit, though the last clause is probably in most cases omitted—
“‘O Lord, give me plenty to eat and drink, good raiment, and a comfortable home, or else kill me outright!’”
Mr. Vivian visited the Church of the Blessed Virgin at Entotto, and noticed that all the Abyssinians who were with him “hastened to kiss the floor-beam and side-posts or lintels of the door in the outer wall.” And at Trinity Church in Addis Abiba “whenever a peasant approached the church on a mule, he dismounted and kissed a large black stone which stood some twenty yards away. Other persons of a more pious turn of mind went right up to the entrance and kissed not only the lintels, but even the floor-beam of the doorway. This was also done by everybody who was coming to church, and my servant, in whom I had never detected any semblance of piety on the road, was particularly punctilious in this respect.”[160]
But it is not the case that the Habashes avoid all religious duties that are irksome. Parkyns wrote: “Their fasts are more numerous perhaps than those of any other Christian people, more than two-thirds of the year being assigned to abstinence. Nor in their fasting do they get off as easily as Roman Catholics; for it is not sufficient that they should abstain from animal food only; an Abyssinian, during fast-time, neither eats nor drinks anything till late in the afternoon. . . . It is true the Mohammedans do nearly the same during their month of Ramadan; but they only change the day into night, feasting during the night-time on more luxurious food than many of them could allow themselves during the remainder of the year; while the Abyssinian, when he does eat, confines himself to dried peas, dressed in a sort of bad oil, or to an equally unpalatable dish made of a kind of spinach, called ‘hamly’ or ‘goummen.’ . . . Many of the Abyssinian fasts are of long duration. The time of day when the people may eat is determined by the length of a man’s shadow, measured by his own feet, and varies in different fasts. Thus the fast of Advent is during the last ten days of the month Hedar (October) and the whole of Tahsas (November), and during each day till a man’s shadow measures nine and a half feet. The fast of Lent lasts till sunset during fifty-five days. . . . Besides these are the Wednesdays and Fridays, making nearly 260 days of fasting. . . . Some of the priests are very rigorous in keeping all these fasts, and many even voluntarily add a number for their own observance. The people, too, in general are tolerably attentive to this duty; and I have frequently met with men undergoing extreme labour, yet persevering in what they have been brought up to consider as one of the most essential parts of their religion; for, strictly speaking, a man who has been known to neglect the rules of the Church is looked upon almost as an infidel, and should he die in such a state of disobedience, his body would be refused sepulture in the churches. Good Friday and the following day are passed by the priests and the rigidly devout in an absolute fast of forty-eight hours.”[161]
Plowden remarked: “So much do they attach importance to this (fasting) and other outward forms that a man of Hamazayn[162] will slay his near relative, and returning home calmly, will be horror-stricken should his wife have ground flour on a saint’s day, or prepared his meal before the hours of fasting have expired.”[163]
It must be owned that the Habashes recompense themselves as far as possible for the severity of their abstinence by gluttony at the numerous feasts which the Church also ordains.
Major Cornwallis Harris drew attention to a singular custom in the following words—“Fasts, penances, and excommunication form the chief props of the clerical power; but the repentant sinner can always purchase a substitute to undergo the two former, and the ban of the Church is readily averted by a timely offering.”[164] This seems to indicate an opinion among the Abyssinians that a sin is expiated not by the contrition of the evil-doer, but by a formal amount of punishment undergone somewhere by some one—no matter by whom.
The Abyssinian Church teaches, and the great majority of the people accept, the doctrine of transubstantiation. Those who hold this belief “assert that the actual body and blood of our Saviour are partaken of by the faithful, but that an angel takes them away from an unbeliever, and restores the bread and wine, in his hands, in their natural state, such as they were previous to the benediction. The wine is merely an infusion of dried raisins.”[165] Stern tells the story of a miracle which is supposed to have established the fact of transubstantiation, and adds, “The erudite reject the legend, and, in their sentiments, approximate to the Lutheran doctrine of consubstantiation.”[166] The Church also teaches the doctrine of purgatory and that “prayers for the dead are necessary, and absolution indispensable. The souls of the departed do not immediately enter upon a state of happiness, the period being in exact accordance with the alms and prayers that are expended upon earth.”[167] Stern declared that “the number of masses requisite for the repose of the soul has not been defined by the Church, and thus the misery or bliss of the defunct is at the mercy of niggardly relatives and exacting priests.”[168] Both writers attribute the introduction of this opinion to the Jews.
The badge of Ethiopian Christianity, worn by all classes, is the mateb, a blue neck-thread of silk or wool. This is the distinctive mark of the Abyssinians’ creed; they hardly believe that one who does not wear it is in reality a Christian, and, said Dufton, besides disdaining their Mohammedan and Jewish neighbours, “they often include in their contempt every form of Christianity even which does not conform to their own”[169]—in which prejudice they are not so singular as at a first glance they may appear to be. Commonly a silver ring or cross is attached to the cord.
The general character of the clergy appears from what has already been related. Parkyns saw them in remote places and in their least spiritual aspect. For instance, in describing the feast on St. Michael’s day at Addy Harisho, he wrote: “An old priest came up to me and offered, on the part of himself and his brethren, to perform, if I pleased, the religious dance and song used by them on such occasions. I never shall forget their ludicrous efforts to appear graceful, at the same time staggering every step; while the expression of devotion they affected to assume was reduced to a languid smile and thickening eyelids, expressive of nothing but liquor. A hiccup or two occasionally interfered with the solemn words they were chanting; and the stately movements they had begun with changed gradually, and by degrees the dance became a reel, or rather reeling movement, the words only which accompanied it remaining solemn. At last an old priest, suddenly forgetting the original chant, changed its words to those of a jovial drinking ditty: ‘Don’t you stop the liquor, and I will dance for ever!’ Instead of the marks of disapprobation from his fellow-priests, they only burst into a loud laugh, and, declaring the entertainment to be changed for the better, all with one consent followed his example and his tune.”[170]
Nevertheless, Parkyns wrote of the priests with tolerance and good humour. And it is worthy of note that two other British writers who knew the country well have had a good word to say for the clergy. Plowden, after mentioning some of their faults, observed: “It is just to say that they have preserved the Christian faith, impure indeed, but still alive, in the midst of foreign invasion, domestic degradation, and the extinction of Government, and that it is under their protection that agriculture flourishes, and villages are built where deserts would else be seen.”[171] Mr. Augustus Wylde, among several remarks in a similar sense, said: “I have found the clergy, if left alone, peaceable, simple-minded men, very hospitable and always willing to do me a good turn, and ready to help me and pass me on to their neighbouring friends, and I expect other travellers would find them the same as long as they treated them properly.”[172]
An interesting instance of the survival of a Jewish institution among the Christians of Abyssinia is that of Cities of Refuge. Plowden wrote, “All the larger towns are entirely under their (the priests’) control, and being cities of refuge, sacred even from the Ras, are filled with dissolute and dangerous characters.”[173] Parkyns mentioned Axum as a place of this kind, and added, “at Adoua the whole of that part called after the church, in fact the parish, is sanctuary (‘guddam’), and no person having taken refuge there can be arrested, although he walk about the public streets in broad daylight, so long as he does not pass the parish boundaries.”[174] Stern alluded to the subject, and had formed the impression that churches in general were sanctuaries. “In most cases the murderer may elude the violent rage of his pursuers by taking refuge in a church, where the priests will negotiate the price of his release.”[175] He mentioned also certain rivers—the Taccazze and the Abai—forming the limits of provinces, which the “avenger of blood” may not pass.[176]
The Jewish Sabbath is still held in veneration by the Abyssinian Christians. Parkyns observed that a feast called “adam Souaur,” or “left Saturday,” was observed, “as that day was formerly the Jewish Sabbath, but given up by the Christians for the Sunday at the time of the resurrection of our Saviour. The priests collect a quantity of rushes, and bless them in the church; and then a priest and a deacon take them out into the parish, the deacon carrying the bundle, and the priest distributing the rushes to all passers-by, binding them on the head of the receiver. They also visit the houses with them, and generally receive a handsome present.”[177] It would be interesting to discover the origin of this custom. Major Harris, writing in 1843, said, “The Jewish Sabbath is strictly observed throughout the kingdom. The ox and ass are at rest. Agricultural pursuits are suspended. Household avocations must be laid aside, and the spirit of idleness reigns throughout the day.”[178] The same writer has given a brief history of the observance.[179]
It is well known that at one time Abyssinia was, so far as the Emperor’s power extended at that period, converted to Roman Catholicism by the instrumentality of Portuguese missionaries. The connection with Portugal commenced in 1499, when Pedro Covilham penetrated by way of the Mediterranean and the Red Sea, to Shoa, where the Emperor then held his court. He was well received. An ancient Ethiopian law decreed that no foreigner who reached Abyssinia should be allowed to leave the country, but Covilham was permitted to send home an account of his experiences. At a later date a further communication from the traveller induced the Portuguese Government to despatch an embassy, which, after many privations and adventures, arrived in Shoa in October, 1520. It brought no presents, and was not cordially welcomed. However, the Emperor desired to send an answer to the King of Portugal, and therefore—in defiance of the ancient usage—allowed the ambassador to return to Lisbon, taking with him an Ethiopian envoy. But certain of the Portuguese were detained in Abyssinia, among whom was a priest named John Bermudez.
Some years later this man was appointed Abouna, or Patriarch, on the death of the incumbent of that office. He made his way to Rome, where Pope Paul III. confirmed his title, and he thence proceeded, in accordance with the Emperor’s desire, to Portugal, and solicited the aid of European troops to assist the Abyssinians in repelling the Mohammedan invasion which then threatened the country.
The Portuguese Government despatched an expedition of some four hundred men under Don Christopher de Gama. These troops disembarked at Massowah in 1542. In an engagement with the Mohammedan forces on August 30 of that year the Abyssinian allies took to flight, and the Portuguese were surrounded. They cut their way through the enemy and effected their retreat, but Don Christopher, who had been wounded, was captured by the enemy and murdered by the Mohammedan commander. His skull was sent to Constantinople as a trophy. The surviving Portuguese besought of the Emperor an opportunity to avenge their leader, and they shortly afterwards took part in an action in which the Mohammedan forces were routed with great slaughter.
These circumstances added to the influence of Bermudez, but he insisted rigorously on the complete acceptance of Roman doctrine and ritual by the Abyssinians, and thus incurred the resentment of the Emperor. As a consequence he lost the advantages which he and his compatriots had gained, and finally abandoned his task and quitted the country, embarking at Massowah, where he had landed.
A subsequent mission under the leadership of Oviedo, Bishop of Hieropolis, which reached Massowah in 1558, failed equally, after many adventures—including an Abyssinian Council at which the Emperor and the bishop publicly and heatedly disputed about points of doctrine—and in 1560 Oviedo received orders from Rome to withdraw from Ethiopia and proceed to Japan.
Peter Paez was the next missionary who attempted to bring Abyssinia into communion with the Catholic Church. After suffering shipwreck in the Red Sea and enduring a seven years’ captivity in the hands of the Turks he landed at Massowah in 1600. Paez was a man of prudence and ability. He prepared himself for his task by learning the Geez language and opening a school at Maiguagua, in which he was able to study the character of the Abyssinian people. He acquired a reputation as a teacher and disputant, and in 1604 was summoned to the court, where the reigning Emperor, Za Dengel, received him as a person of distinction. He soon acquired influence over this monarch, who sanctioned the use of the Roman ritual and shortly became a convert to Catholicism. A rebellion—one of the ordinary incidents of Abyssinian politics—was organized against him, and he was slain. A period of civil war ensued, during which his successor shared the same fate.
The crown then passed to the Emperor Segued (called also Socinios and Susneus).[180] Paez aroused his interest by his skill in architecture and his other talents, was received into favour, and for the second time induced the ruler of the country to recognize the authority of the Catholic Church. Letters announcing the event, signed by the Emperor himself, were sent to the Pope and the King of Portugal. Paez died in 1623, shortly after receiving Segued’s formal abjuration of heresy and administering to him the sacrament of penance.
Upon receipt of the Emperor’s letter, the Pope, in 1624, despatched to Ethiopia a mission headed by Alphonso Mendez, a Jesuit and doctor of divinity. This envoy and his followers reached Abyssinia in 1625. On February 11, 1626, before the court and the magnates of the country, the Emperor avowed his submission to the head of the Catholic Church, and took the oath of obedience to the Holy See. A proclamation was then made that “all persons intended for priests should embrace the Catholic religion under pain of death, and that all should follow the forms of the Church of Rome in the celebration of Easter and Lent under the same penalty.”
The change of creed was not popular in the country. It was opposed by force, and became the occasion of a renewal of civil war. The Emperor found that he had alienated his subjects, and, in spite of the protests and resistance of Mendez, he issued, in 1632, an edict by which he restored the ancient religion to its former authority, and abdicated in favour of his son. Segued died a few months afterwards, still professing the Catholic faith. His successor banished Mendez and his retinue, whereupon they sought protection with the Prince of Bar, who had been at enmity with the Abyssinian king; but this chieftain delivered them to the Turks. Father Jerome Lobo, who wrote a history of the mission, and some of his companions, reached Europe after many adventures; others were ransomed from the Pasha of Souakim and proceeded to India, and the few Jesuits who had remained in Abyssinia were put to death.
Of nine Capuchins who endeavoured to enter the country soon after these events, seven were killed, the three who arrived last being murdered by the Pasha of Souakim, at the Emperor of Abyssinia’s request, as soon as they reached the coast.
No subsequent attempt of similar importance was made to convert the Abyssinian nation to Catholicism, and the story of the struggle between the Roman and the Alexandrian forms of belief may be said to have ended with the banishment of Mendez.
There have been theological contentions in the Abyssinian Church as in others, and it has not escaped schism. The fiercest dispute arose about the number of the births of Christ, and the sword has been used—as elsewhere—to lend force to arguments. Major Harris wrote: “At the expense of a bloody civil war, Gondar, with Godjam, Damot, and all the south-western provinces of Amhára, has long maintained the three births of Christ—Christ proceeding from the Father from all eternity, styled ‘the eternal birth;’ His incarnation, as being born of the holy Virgin, termed His ‘second or temporal birth;’ and His reception of the Holy Ghost, denominated His ‘third birth.’ The Tigre ecclesiastics, on the other hand, whose side is invariably espoused by the Primate of Ethiopia, deny the third birth, upon the ground that the reception of the Holy Ghost cannot be so styled.”[181] Bishop Samuel Gobat, whose book was published in 1834, gave a fuller account of the controversy, which Parkyns quoted.[182] In Stern’s time the Abouna (primate) was supported by King Theodore in his opposition to the doctrine of the three births, and “the royal herald made proclamation that in future all who adhered to the obnoxious dogma of the threefold birth would be taught obedience by the giraffe (scourging). The Shoa clergy denounced this decision as arbitrary and tyrannical, as indeed it was; but an application of the promised whip wrought a wonderful change among that insubordinate body.”[183] The same author on one occasion saw about a dozen priests in chains, who were brought before the Abouna to be admonished because “they had pertinaciously clung to the abolished dogma of the three births of Christ.”[184] The penalty which they incurred “consisted of several months’ successive fasts, divers fines, and the promise of the giraffe.”
For a detailed account of Abyssinian Christianity and ecclesiastical history, reference should be made to the books already mentioned in this volume—Bruce, Gobat, Harris, Lobo, Legrand, Stern, Dufton, Plowden, and Parkyns especially—and to the works of F. Alvarez[185] and Job Ludolphus.[186] A digest of the writings of the early travellers and missionaries in Abyssinia was published by F. Balthazar Tellez, and translated into English by John Stevens (1710).
Mention has already been made of the Falashas (Jews) of Abyssinia. These people, said Stern, “claiming a lineal descent from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, pride themselves on the fame of their progenitors and the purity of the blood that circulates in their own veins. Intermarriages with those of another tribe or creed are strictly interdicted,[187] nay, even the visit to an unbeliever’s house is a sin, and subjects the transgressor to the penance of a thorough lustration and a complete change of dress before he can return to his own home. Their stern uncompromising sectarian spirit has been highly beneficial in excluding from their community that licentious profligacy in which all the other inhabitants of Ethiopia riot; and it is generally admitted that Falasha men and women seldom, if ever, stray from the path of virtue, or transgress the solemn law of the decalogue.”[188]
Various accounts, of which two have already been mentioned, are given of the origin of the Jewish colony in Abyssinia. It is commonly believed among the people that a large retinue returned with Maqueda, Queen of Sheba, from her visit to King Solomon. Harris remarked, “The tradition of Queen Maqueda has been ascribed to the invention of those fugitive Jews, who, after the destruction of Jerusalem by the Emperor Titus, emigrated into the northern States by way of the Red Sea, who disseminated it with the design of obtaining the desired permission to settle in the country, and whose descendants are the Falashas still extant among the mountains of Simien and Lasta.”[189] According to Stern, “the most probable conjecture is that at a very early period—perhaps when Solomon’s fleet navigated the Red Sea—some adventurous Jews, impelled by love of gain, settled among the pleasant hills of Arabia Felix; whilst others of a more daring and enterprising spirit were induced to try their fortune in the more remote mountain scenes of Ethiopia. . . . Subsequent troubles in Palestine and the final overthrow of the Jewish monarchy by Nebuchadnezzar increased the number of the emigrants, and in the lapse of a few centuries the Jews formed a powerful state in Arabia, and a formidable and turbulent people in the Alpine regions between Tigre and Amhara in Ethiopia.”[190] Mr. Vivian alluded to “a colony of aboriginal Jews up in the mountains of Tigre. They live in pastoral fashion, like the old Hebrew patriarchs, upon the produce of the flocks and herds. They have been there for centuries, perhaps even for thousands of years, and the Abyssinians confess that they have always failed to dislodge them from their inaccessible fastnesses.”[191] Falashas are also found in the provinces bordering on Lake Tsana, including Godjam, and it was in this district that Stern visited them. It seems probable that the Jews who have retained their religion are the descendants of those who refused to conform to the doctrines of the Coptic Church when they were generally adopted in the country. Bruce mentions that “about one hundred and eighty years after the establishment of Christianity, a religious war is said to have taken place between the converted and unconverted Abyssinians (the Christians and the Jews),”[192] and if one may judge by the steady and successful opposition which Hebrews in other countries have offered to the most strenuous methods of conversion, it appears likely that a portion of those in Abyssinia adhered to their ancient creed.
There is a tradition that in the tenth century the Jews obtained ascendency in Ethiopia, and preserved their supremacy for about three centuries. “In the year 960 the Jews, supported by their king and by his daughter Judith, a woman of great beauty, resolved to attempt the subversion of the Christian religion and the destruction of the race of Solomon (Queen Maqueda’s descendants having been converted to the Alexandrian doctrines). They surprised the mountain of Damo, the residence of the Christian princes, the whole of whom, about four hundred, were massacred, excepting one infant, who escaped into the powerful and loyal province of Shoa. A solitary representative of the blood of Solomon and the Queen of Sheba was thus preserved. Judith took possession of the throne, and not only enjoyed it herself for forty years, but transmitted it to five of her posterity. On the death of the last of these the crown descended to one of his relations, a Christian, and is said to have remained in his family (who, though Christians, were not of the line of Solomon) for five generations. Finally, Tekla Haimanot, the famous saint, persuaded the reigning king to restore the crown to the house of Solomon, whose descendants had survived in Shoa.”[193]
Differing accounts of the former political status of the Hebrews in the land have been given by various writers; Stern said that in their “mountain fastnesses of Simien and Bellesa they maintained, under their own kings and queens, called Gideon and Judith, a chequered and independent existence till the beginning of the seventeenth century.”[194] Harris, following Bruce more closely, wrote, “Christianity became the national religion of Abyssinia in the beginning of the fourth century. The Falashas, descendants of the Jews who were believed to have accompanied Menelek from Jerusalem, had meanwhile waxed extremely powerful, and refusing to abandon the faith of their forefathers, they now declared independence. Electing a sovereign of their own creed, they took possession of the almost impregnable mountain fastnesses of Simien, where their numbers were augmented by continual accessions from the Jews who were expelled from Palestine and from Arabia. Under the constant titles of Gideon and Judith, a succession of kings and queens held a limited sway until, in the middle of the tenth century,” the Princess Esther brought about the revolution which Bruce ascribed to Judith—one writer probably using the name and the other the title of the usurper in question. Whatever the circumstances may really have been, there seems reason to believe that the Jews were at one time sufficiently influential to impose a dynasty of their choice upon the nation.
Stern has given a full and very interesting account of the Falashas whom he saw. According to this they dwell as a rule, though not invariably, apart from the remainder of the population, and “their settlements are strikingly distinguished from the Christian villages by the red earthen pot on the apex of their mesquid, or place of worship, which towers from the centre of the thatched huts by which it is environed. . . . Husbandry and a few simple trades—such as smiths, potters, and weavers—constitute the sole occupations in which they engage; commerce they unanimously repudiate as incompatible with their Mosaic Creed, and it is quite a disappointment not to find a single merchant among a quarter of a million of people, the lineal descendants of those who are supposed to have acquired a taste for traffic and riches on the very eve of their emancipation from Egyptian servitude.”
Though they had very few copies of the Scriptures in Stern’s time they were well acquainted with the Old Testament, especially the Pentateuch and the Psalms. “Their sacrifices,” he wrote, “are most capriciously offered, and with the exception of the Paschal Lamb, neither the offering on the Sabbath nor on the day of atonement is in accordance with the original command. . . . Every Falasha settlement has a hut at its outskirts, and there the unclean and impure must take refuge during the prescribed number of days. This ritual scrupulosity involves many social hardships and inflicts on numbers many a keen pang. Particularly in the hour of dissolution, when the sweet expressions of friendship and love are so soothing to the agonized soul and anguished frame, the dying Falasha has no affectionate hand clasped in his, and no words of comfort from beloved objects whispered in his ears. The inflexible law forbids the last offices to the weeping relative, and the helpless sufferer is in death’s agonizing convulsions dragged from the weary couch into the open air, where the polluted and unclean remove him from the bare ground to the tainted and lonely hut.”
On the Sabbath “the service, which consists in chanting psalms and hymns relieved by allegorical stories and a few verses or a chapter of the book of Leviticus, lasts a considerable time, and in some places the plaintive notes of the worshippers may even be heard across the quiet valley and around the lonely hill throughout the night. . . . Broad phylacteries and the garments of fringes are utterly unknown among them, nor do they wash the cup or practise any of the decrees of the rabbins. . . . About the advent of the Messiah they have no intelligent or definite idea. ‘We believe that Jerusalem will again be rebuilt,’ is the answer on the lip of every Falasha, when questioned as to the future destiny of his nation. This event they regard as the consummation of their brightest hopes—the realization of their fondest mundane visions. . . .”
Asceticism, borrowed from the Christian hermits, has become a practice among the Falasha priests, who “after their initiation frequently pass months and years in swampy marshes, stern wilds and poisonous jungles, where roots or dried peas, which latter they carry with them, are their only means of subsistence. Numbers succumb to the noxious influence of the atmosphere, others perish of famine, whilst not a few become the prey of the lion, hyena, and other voracious beasts which inhabit those unsightly tracts.” There are also Falasha monks, and “the dwellings and convents of these ascetics are carefully isolated from the abodes of the impure and unholy people.”
There were, in Stern’s day, three Falasha high-priests in Abyssinia, one in the province of Quara, the other in Armatgioho, and the third, Aboo Maharee, in Dembea. The missionary had some indecisive discussion with the last-named, a man about sixty years of age, “of a noble and commanding figure, swathed in a white shama, and holding a long bamboo staff, which in the distance looked like the crosier of a bishop.” He had a “high and expressive forehead, melancholy restless eyes, and a countenance once no doubt mild and pleasing, but to which self-imposed penances and a repulsive practice had imparted an expression most strange and unearthly.”