Thus Judaism and Christianity, though they were well known, and furnished many of the ideas and most of the ceremonies of Islām, were never able to effect any general settlement in Arabia. The common Arabs did not care much about any religion, and the finer spirits found the wrangling dogmatism of the Christian and the narrow isolation of the Jew little to their mind. For there were men before the time of Mohammad who were dissatisfied with the low fetishism in which their countrymen were plunged, and who protested emphatically against the idle and often cruel superstitions of the Arabs. Not to refer to the prophets, who, as the Korān relates, were sent in old times to the tribes of Ad and Thamūd to convert them, there was, immediately before the preaching of Mohammad, a general feeling that a change was at hand; a prophet was expected, and women were anxiously hoping for male children, if so be they might mother the Apostle of God; and the more thoughtful minds, tinged with traditions of Judaism, were seeking for what they called the “religion of Abraham.” These men were called “Hanīfs,” or “incliners,” and their religion seems to have consisted chiefly in a negative position,—in denying the superstition of the Arabs, and in only asserting the existence of one sole-ruling God whose absolute slaves are all mankind—without being able to decide on any minor doctrines, or to determine in what manner this One God was to be worshipped. So long as the Hanīfs could give their countrymen no more definite creed than this, their influence was limited to a few inquiring and doubting minds. It was reserved for Mohammad to formulate the faith of the Hanīfs in the dogmas of Islām.
It is essential to bear in mind all these surroundings of Mohammad if we would understand his position and influence. A desert Arab in love of liberty and worship of nature’s beauty, but lacking something of the frank chivalrous spirit of the desert warrior—more a saint than a knight,—yet possessing a patient determined perseverance which belonged to the life of the town, a moral force which the roaming Bedawy did not need, Mohammad owed something to either side of Arabian life; whilst without the influence of other religions, especially the Jewish, he could never have come forward as the preacher of Islām. Even the old nature worship of the Arabs had its share in the new religion, and no faith was made up of more varied materials than that which Mohammad impressed upon so large a portion of mankind.
Of his early life very little is known. He was born in a.d. 571, and came of the noble tribe of the Koreysh, who had long been guardians of the sacred Kaaba. He lost both his parents early, and as his branch of the tribe had become poor, his duty was to betake himself to the hillsides and pasture the flocks of his neighbours. In after years he would look back with pleasure on these days, and say that God took never a prophet save from among the sheep-folds. The life on the hills gave him the true shepherd’s eye for nature which is seen in every speech of the Korān; and it was in those solitary watches under the silent sky, with none near to distract him, that he began those earnest communings with his soul which made him in the end the prophet of his nation. Beyond this shepherd life and his later and more adventurous trade of camel-driver to the Syrian caravans of his rich cousin, Khadīja, whom he presently married at the age of twenty-five, there is little that can be positively asserted of Mohammad’s youth. He must have witnessed the poets’ contests at the Fair of ´Okadh, and listened to the earnest talk of the Jews and Hanīfs who visited the markets; he may have heard a little, dimly, of Jesus of Nazareth; what he did we know not; what he was is expressed in the nickname by which he was known—“El-Amīn,” the Trusty.
“Mohammad was of the middle height, rather thin, but broad of shoulders, wide of chest, strong of bone and muscle. His head was massive, strongly developed. Dark hair, slightly curled, flowed in a dense mass almost to his shoulders; even in advanced age it was sprinkled with only about twenty gray hairs, produced by the agonies of his ‘Revelations.’ His face was oval-shaped, slightly tawny of colour. Fine long arched eyebrows were divided by a vein, which throbbed visibly in moments of passion. Great black restless eyes shone out from under long heavy eyelashes. His nose was large, slightly aquiline. His teeth, upon which he bestowed great care, were well set, dazzling white. A full beard framed his manly face. His skin was clear and soft, his complexion ‘red and white,’ his hands were as ‘silk and satin,’ even as those of a woman. His step was quick and elastic, yet firm as that of one who steps ‘from a high to a low place.’ In turning his face he would also turn his whole body. His whole gait and presence were dignified and imposing. His countenance was mild and pensive. His laugh was rarely more than a smile.
“In his habits he was extremely simple, though he bestowed great care on his person. His eating and drinking, his dress and his furniture retained, even when he had reached the fulness of power, their almost primitive nature. The only luxuries he indulged in were, besides arms, which he highly prized, a pair of yellow boots, a present from the Negus of Abyssinia. Perfumes, however, he loved passionately, being most sensitive to smells. Strong drink he abhorred.
“His constitution was extremely delicate. He was nervously afraid of bodily pain; he would sob and roar under it. Eminently unpractical in all common things of life, he was gifted with mighty powers of imagination, elevation of mind, delicacy and refinement of feeling. ‘He is more modest than a virgin behind her curtain,’ it was said of him. He was most indulgent to his inferiors, and would never allow his awkward little page to be scolded whatever he did. ‘Ten years,’ said Anas his servant, ‘was I about the Prophet, and he never said as much as “uff” to me.’ He was very affectionate towards his family. One of his boys died on his breast in the smoky house of the nurse, a blacksmith’s wife. He was very fond of children; he would stop them in the streets and pat their little heads. He never struck any one in his life. The worst expression he ever made use of in conversation was, ‘What has come to him? may his forehead be darkened with mud!’ When asked to curse some one, he replied, ‘I have not been sent to curse, but to be a mercy to mankind.’ ‘He visited the sick, followed any bier he met, accepted the invitation of a slave to dinner, mended his own clothes, milked the goats, and waited upon himself,’ relates summarily another tradition. He never first withdrew his hand out of another man’s palm, and turned not before the other had turned.
“He was the most faithful protector of those he protected, the sweetest and most agreeable in conversation. Those who saw him were suddenly filled with reverence; those who came near him loved him; they who described him would say, ‘I have never seen his like either before or after.’ He was of great taciturnity, but when he spoke it was with emphasis and deliberation, and no one could forget what he said. He was, however, very nervous and restless withal; often low-spirited, downcast, as to heart and eyes. Yet he would at times suddenly break through these broodings, become gay, talkative, jocular, chiefly among his own. He would then delight in telling little stories, fairy tales, and the like. He would romp with the children and play with their toys.”
“He lived with his wives in a row of humble cottages, separated from one another by palm-branches, cemented together with mud. He would kindle the fire, sweep the floor, and milk the goats himself. The little food he had was always shared with those who dropped in to partake of it. Indeed, outside the prophet’s house was a bench or gallery, on which were always to be found a number of poor, who lived entirely upon his generosity, and were hence called ‘the people of the bench.’ His ordinary food was dates and water, or barley bread; milk and honey were luxuries of which he was fond, but which he rarely allowed himself. The fare of the desert seemed most congenial to him, even when he was sovereign of Arabia.”
Mohammad was forty before he began his mission of reform. He may long have doubted and questioned with himself, but at least outwardly he seems to have conformed to the popular religion. At length, as he was keeping the sacred months, the God’s Truce of the Arabs, in prayer and fasting on Mount Hirā, “a huge barren rock, torn by cleft and hollow ravine, standing out solitary in the full white glare of the desert sun,” he thought he heard a voice say “Cry.” “What shall I cry?” he answered. And the voice said:—
“Cry! in the name of thy Lord, who created—