DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.12665#0301
284
incidents of travel.
CHAPTER XVI.
Convent of Saint Saba.—A strange Picture.—Celebration of
Good Friday.—Palm Sunday.—-A struggle for Life.—The
Grave of a Friend.—A Convent.—Burial of a Missionary.
I slept till nine o'clock the next morning. The
first thing I did after breakfast was to mount to
the tower at the top of the convent. This is the
largest Greek convent in the Holy Land; and I re-
marked that it was in a good state of repair, and
that large and expensive improvements were then
in progress. The tower commanded a view of
the whole convent, built in terraces, in a sort of
amphitheatre, in the side of the mountain. All
around, particularly in the mountain opposite,
were ranges of grottoes, formerly the residences
of anchorites and hermits, admirably situated for
cherishing pious thoughts and leading a holy life.
An old, white-bearded monk, leaning on his staff,
was toiling up its sides, leading a long procession
of pilgrims, probably to some very holy place ;
and below me, apparently growing out of the rock,
was a large palm-tree, planted, as they say, by
Saint Saba himself, in the fourth century. The
cemetery is about half way down, in a vault under
an open area. The flat stone that covered the
incidents of travel.
CHAPTER XVI.
Convent of Saint Saba.—A strange Picture.—Celebration of
Good Friday.—Palm Sunday.—-A struggle for Life.—The
Grave of a Friend.—A Convent.—Burial of a Missionary.
I slept till nine o'clock the next morning. The
first thing I did after breakfast was to mount to
the tower at the top of the convent. This is the
largest Greek convent in the Holy Land; and I re-
marked that it was in a good state of repair, and
that large and expensive improvements were then
in progress. The tower commanded a view of
the whole convent, built in terraces, in a sort of
amphitheatre, in the side of the mountain. All
around, particularly in the mountain opposite,
were ranges of grottoes, formerly the residences
of anchorites and hermits, admirably situated for
cherishing pious thoughts and leading a holy life.
An old, white-bearded monk, leaning on his staff,
was toiling up its sides, leading a long procession
of pilgrims, probably to some very holy place ;
and below me, apparently growing out of the rock,
was a large palm-tree, planted, as they say, by
Saint Saba himself, in the fourth century. The
cemetery is about half way down, in a vault under
an open area. The flat stone that covered the