on the edge of the
Libyan desert, where the sand encroaches on the plain. It looks like the
sanctuary, or cella, of an ancient temple, and is not unlike the
bastion of an old-fashioned fortification; except one solitary doom
tree, it stands quite alone, and has a most desolate aspect, backed, as
it is, by the sandy desert, and without any appearance of a garden,
either within or outside its walls. The ancient doorway of red granite,
on the south side, has been partially closed up, leaving an opening just
large enough to admit one person at a time.

The door was closed, and we shouted in vain for admittance. We then
tried the effect of a double knock in the Grosvenor Square style with a
large stone, but that was of no use; so I got one still larger, and
banged away at the door with all my might, shouting at the same time
that we were friends and Christians. After some minutes a small voice
was heard inside, and several questions being satisfactorily answered,
we were let in by a monk; and passing through the narrow door, I found
myself surrounded by piles of ruined buildings of various ages, among
which the tall granite columns of the ancient church reared themselves
like an avenue on either side of the desecrated nave, which is now open
to the sky, and is used as a promenade for a host of chickens. Some
goats also were perched upon fragments of ruined walls, and looked
cunningly at us as we invaded their domain. I saw some Coptic women
peeping at me from the windows of some wretched hovels of mud and
brick, which they had built up in corners among the ancient ruins like
swallows' nests.

There were but three poor priests. The principal one led us to the upper
part of the church, which had lately been repaired and walled off from
the open nave; and enclosed the apsis and transepts, which had been
restored in some measure, and fitted for the performance of divine
service. The half domes of the apsis and two transepts, which were of
well-built masonry, were still entire, and the original frescos remain
upon them. Those in the transepts are stiff figures of saints; and in
the one over the altar is the great figure of the Redeemer, such as is
usually met with in the mosaics of the Italian basilicas. These apsides
are above fifty feet from the ground, which gives them a dignity of
appearance, and leaves greater cause to regret the destruction of the
nave, which, with its clerestory, must have been still higher. There
appea