Such was the career and the final menaces of Mohammedanism. But the Church is safe: God interposed by his resistless providences. Mohammedanism, everywhere on the wane, exists now only through the toleration of the Christian powers: it is ere long to be buried in the same grave in which the paganism of Greece and Rome lies mouldering in the dust. One foe after another Satan has been marshalling against Christianity; but ever, though sometimes after a strife truly terrific, Christianity has come off the victor. Eighteen centuries have rolled away since the death of Christ; but never was Christianity so vigorous and efficient a power in the world as now.
Mohammed himself ever remembered the kindness he had received in the Syrian convent. He left it as one of the injunctions of the Koran,—
“Respect all religious persons who live in hermitages or convents, and spare their edifices; but, should you meet otherunbelievers in the Prophet, be sure you cleave their skulls unless they embrace the true faith.”
The capture of Alexandria by the Mohammedans is one of the most renowned events, and apparently one of the greatest calamities, of past ages. The magnificent city, the capital of Egypt, possessed almost fabulous wealth. It contained four thousand palaces, five thousand baths, and four hundred theatres. Its library surpassed all others in the world in the number and value of its manuscripts. The Moslem general who had captured the city wrote to his superior at Bagdad, inquiring what was to be done with the library. The bigot returned the reply,—
“Either what those books contain is in the Koran, or it is not. If their contents are in the Koran, the books are useless: if they are not, the books are false and wicked. Burn them.”
The whole priceless treasure, containing the annals of many past centuries, was committed to the flames. The irreparable loss Christendom will ever mourn.
Nations are not born, and do not die, in a day. During several centuries, Mohammedanism was rising to its zenith of power, until it vied with ancient Rome in the extent of its territory, the invincibility of its legions, and the enormity of its luxury and corruption.
The seventh century was, perhaps, the darkest and the most hopeless, so far as the prospects of humanity were concerned, of any since the birth of Christ. When the eighth century dawned, several hundred years of war, anarchy, and blood, had lingered away since the breaking-up of the Roman empire. The people, weary of anarchy and crushed with woe, were glad to make any surrender of personal liberty for the sake of security. Females sought refuge in nunneries, and timid men in monasteries: bold barons built their impregnable castles on the cliffs; and defenceless peasants clustered around these massive fortresses of rock for protection as the sheep gather around the watch-dog.
The baron, with his fierce retainers armed to the teeth, was ever ready to do battle. The serf purchased a home and safetyby toiling with his wife and children, like cattle in the field, to support his lord and his armed warriors. Thus feudalism was the child of necessity: it was the natural outgrowth of barbarous times. The ruins of these old feudal castles are scattered profusely over the hillsides and along the romantic streams of Europe. As the tourist now glides in the steamer over the water of the beautiful Rhine, where the “castled crag of Drachenfels” frowns down upon the scene of solitude and beauty, and sees
“On yon bold brow a lordly tower,