Mountain Democrat., 1857-08-08
NUMBER Al.
E ~ fGt WgHE
From "HOas Llts IN Egypt"
The Wane % the CreSeehG. +"
BY ". C. PRIME.

It is profoundly interesting to stand in
spot where, daily, for q thousand years,
the prayers of men have been offered I'D
where the stones are worn with the knees
OF sincere if mistaken believers where
there has never been o day, since the
ninth century, when the voice Of the mu-
ezzin was not heard across the court and
through the shadOwy arches, uttering the
simple and sublime passage that has been
SO often uttered above this city, and all
the East, that one might think the air
would sound it with its own morning
winds forever after: "GOd is great. Ther6
is no deity but God. MahOmmed is Gods
apostle. Come to prayer, come to prayer;
prayer is better than sleep; come to pray.
er. God is most great. There Is no God
but God"
AT monday and at sunsetting the same
chant has filled these arches with solemn
melody. One cannot stang 8-xnd hear it
without feeling that the voico is the same
voice that uttered il ten centuries ago.
though the men through whose thin lips
it escaped OH the air are the dust of those
centuries. Age is sublime. "A creed,
though false, is nevertheless magnificent
If it be old and cannot look upon these
tottering walls, these upheaving pave
-ments, these crumbling towers, without
melancholy regret stealing in along with
other feelings, that this worship, this
creed, is approaching its end, and that
the day is fast coming when Islam and
the creed of the Prophet will be to men
like the memories of Isis and Apis-shad-
Ows fitting around the ruins of old Egypt.
In broad daylight, when eyes and intel.
lects are wide awake, the shadows are as
clouds dark with memories of crime and
wrong; shapes of hideOus deeds, black
ening the very name of humanity.
But in night time and the moonlight,
when we do not see these, there will be
shapes like halos around the fallen NINA
rcts of Tooloon and Amer as around the
obelisk of Heliopiis and the unchanging
pyramids; memories ofsimple but grand
faith in the hearts of old men that wOr-
shipped God, and died in every year and
month of all the thousands that have
shonc upon these stones; shadows that
will forever haunt the places that arc
sanctificd by mans holiest cmotions-sin-
ccrc and prayerful trust in God, though
it were in false God; shadows that arc
changclul, but always there; long shapes
and forms cast On the walls by tho altar
flames that remain and appear, and fit
here and there on the pavement and wall,
though altar-fircs be long extinguished,
and the wall lie in dust on the broken
pavements Of the temple.
But is this so, and is the end approach
ingH
asked myself the question In the city
Of Victory, seated at my open window in
the night time, the moon shining glori-
ously--a dazzling moon-my table drawn
to the window, and the flame of nv can.
die rising steadily, and without q flicker,
in the profoundly silent air. Two hun.
dred thousand people were lying around
me, and l asked who and what they were,
and what part they formed in the grand
sum OF human valuation? Literally moth
ing. They are not worth the counting
among the races Of men. They arosthc
curse Of one of the fairest lands on this
earth's surface.
l had been conversing that same day
with intelligent Mussulmans. who not on
ly expressed their belief, but added their
anxious hope, that the advance Of Enelish
power in the East would soon make Eeypt
an English possession. I heard this eve
rywhcre among them.
If they knew anything about it-and
Turks ought to know more about it than
Americans - they would see that il Is
their manifest destiny. England begins
to see II, as before shc has only wished II
answered my question, Yes, the end
is not far distant. The mosque of Amer,
traditional metre Of the duration Of the
faith, is falling. saw with my own eyes
q huge piece of its wall 60 crashing dcwn
into the dusty court, where the stu sun.
shine fell on it as If it had been waiting
for it; and no one will ever disturb its
ruin.
Just before the break Of day, from the
mosque Of Mahommed Ali at the citadel.
the morning call to prayers sounds over
the city. The Sultan Hassan, old Too.
loon, and another ard other take il uD.
and three hundred voices are filing the
air with rich, soft chant, that reaches
the ear Of the Mussulnan in his profound.
est slumber, and call him up to pray.-
Does he obey? There was time when.
at that call 1.-The city Of Salah-e'-deen had
no Enclosed eye, no unbent knee within
its walls But the Mussulman is changed
now. He heard the call in his half drunk.
Ell sleep, stupe6ed with hdshish, and he
damned tho muezzin, and turned over 10
deeper slumber. He heard it in his bro.
found repose, after counting over tho
gains he had made by cheating hisnaigh-
bors, and he did not feel like praying.
He heard 1t in tho pcrfumed couch oEhSs
slave, and he forgot the Prophets IN the
present heaven. He heard it-yes, there
were few old men who remenaaSa the
glory Of the Mamelukes; who heard their
shouts when the Christian inyadeFs met
them at the pyramids; and who, weariSd
of long life, look now for youth and rest
in heaven, and they, wheR thavA. hard
the call, Obeyed it. and theirs were the
only prayers wasted on the dawningIoI
light in all Cairo, and when they cease
there will be none to pray. -,
This is NO fancy picture.S Marx the
prophecy. Our days may be- aete, lNdS
there are men living now who Nkill suau
the crescent disappear from tha;val1eR n
the Nile, and who viii build their h0saaaa
from the sacred stones Of the nil
mosques in Grand Cairo. The BE- 1lsiiilitI
Of this end II visible aAeAAy, Aut Wh0 eal
fOresee what Is TO follow1 si' % ~ EoS
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