projected a few feet, under which she found shelter. A little fire of camel's offal sent up a smoke which blackened the stone above. A couple of goats were lying here as a part of the family. Can human beings live in such a cave? And yet this was their home; and hundreds of such there are, into not one of which does this rich Convent, with all its monks, who pray seven hours a day, cast one ray of sunshine or of hope.
The moral of all this is that a life of entire separation from the world, and seclusion in a Convent, is not the way to serve God, or to do good to men. A life more vacant of all high purpose, or of practical usefulness, I cannot conceive of; and when I went into the charnel-house, where are piled up the bones of whole generations, with a ghastly array of skulls, I felt that I saw before me the mouldering relics of so many wasted lives. Has this ancient Convent done anything to justify its establishment? One service indeed it has rendered to Christendom, in the preservation of the Sinaitic Manuscript, the oldest copy of the Scriptures in existence. But for its influence on the population around it, what has it done? It has stood here for thirteen hundred years, and what fruit can it show? It is rich: it has possessions in Austria and Bessarabia, and is under the special protection and patronage of Russia. But where are its missions? Where are its charities? Has it done anything to convert these tribes? The best answer to the question is the fact that after thirteen centuries it contains within its walls the only Christian church in all Arabia. As for its charities, it has had thousands of Arabs within its reach and under its authority, and yet it has left them as degraded and barbarous as before. Such is the testimony of history, which carries with it the severest condemnation. If the Convent at Mount Sinai is to be kept up for the same
