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. . . .”