Chez lui our friend of the flowing garments is a king, with slaves to wait upon him, wives to obey him, and servants to fear his wrath. But his everyday reception-room is the lobby of his stables, where he sits behind the door in rather shabby garments attending to business matters, unless he is a merchant or shopkeeper, when his store serves as office instead.
If all that the Teuton considers essential to home-life is really a sine quâ non, then Orientals have no home-life. That is our way of looking upon it, judging in the most natural way, by our own standards. The Eastern, from his point of view, forms an equally poor idea of the customs which familiarity has rendered most dear to us. It is as difficult for us to set aside prejudice and to consider his systems impartially, as for him to do so with regard to our peculiar style. There are but two criteria by which the various forms of civilization so far developed by man may be fairly judged. The first is the suitability of any given form to the surroundings and exterior conditions of life of the nation adopting it, and the second is the moral or social effect on the community at large.
Under the first head the unbiassed student of mankind will approve in the main of most systems adopted by peoples who have attained that artificiality which we call civilization. An exchange among Westerners of their time-honoured habits for those of the East would not be less beneficial or more incongruous than a corresponding exchange[page 69] on the part of orientals. Those who are ignorant of life towards the sunrise commonly suppose that they can confer no greater benefit upon the natives of these climes than chairs, top-hats, and so on. Hardly could they be more mistaken. The Easterner despises the man who cannot eat his dinner without a fork or other implement, and who cannot tuck his legs beneath him, infinitely more than ill-informed Westerners despise petticoated men and shrouded women. Under the second head, however, a very different issue is reached, and one which involves not only social, but religious life, and consequently the creed on which this last is based. It is in this that Moorish civilization fails.
But list! what is that weird, low sound which strikes upon our ear and interrupts our musings? It is the call to prayer. For the fifth time to-day that cry is sounding—a warning to the faithful that the hour for evening devotions has come. See! yonder Moor has heard it too, and is already spreading his felt on the ground for the performance of his nightly orisons. Standing Mekka-wards, and bowing to the ground, he goes through the set forms used throughout the Mohammedan world. The majority satisfy their consciences by working off the whole five sets at once. But that cry! I hear it still; as one voice fails another carries on the strain in ever varying cadence, each repeating it to the four quarters of the heavens.
It was yet early in the morning when the first call of the day burst on the stilly air; the sun had not then risen o'er the hill tops, nor had his first, soft rays dispelled the shadows of the night. Only[page 70] the rustling of the wind was heard as it died among the tree tops—that wind which was a gale last night. The hurried tread of the night guard going on his last—perhaps his only—round before returning home, had awakened me from dreaming slumbers, and I was about to doze away into that sweetest of sleeps, the morning nap, when the distant cry broke forth. Pitched in a high, clear key, the Muslim confession of faith was heard; "Lá iláha il' Al-lah; wa Mohammed er-rasool Al-l-a-h!" Could ever bell send thrill like that? I wot not.
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