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So, while the world rolls on from change to change,
And realms of thought expand,

The Letter stands without expanse or range,
Stiff as a dead man's hand;

While, as the life-blood fills the growing form,
The Spirit Christ has shed

Flows through the ripening ages fresh and warm,
More felt than heard or read.

And therefore, though ancestral sympathies,

And closest ties of

race,

May guard Mohammed's precept and decrees,
Through many a tract of space,

Yet in the end the tight-drawn line must break,
The sapless tree must fall,

Nor let the form one time did well to take
Be tyrant over all.

The tide of things rolls forward, surge on surge,
Bringing the blessed hour,

When in Himself the God of Love shall merge
The God of Will and Power.

THE SONG OF THE WAHABEES.

THESE Protestants of Mohammedanism owe their origin to the Sheykh Mohammed Ibn-Abd-El-Wahhab, who founded or incorporated them into a religion and political sect in 1745. They professed to restore Islam to its primitive purity, and to establish an ascetic morality throughout its followers. Like some other religious Reformers, they committed great devastation in places reputed holy, and gratified by the same acts their hatred of superstition and their love of gain. They forbade all luxury in dress and habits of life, and even interdicted the use of the pipe-almost a necessary of existence to the Oriental. The attention of the Porte was not long ago directed to their increasing power in Arabia and the molestations they offered to the pilgrims to the Holy Cities; and the present Pasha of Egypt, after many losses and repulses, succeeded in completely subduing them. Individuals of these tenets are still occasionally to be met with, but it is very difficult to draw from them any information or acknowledgment.

We will not that the truth of God by prophets brought to earth

Shall be o'erlaid by dreams and thoughts of none or little worth;

We will not that the noblest Man, that ever lived and

died,

Should be for canting, cozening, Saints * in reverence set aside.

*The whole notion of Hagiology is totally at variance with the original idea of Islam: nevertheless there is no city without its mosque, sanctified by the relics of the Prophet or his family, and hardly a district without the tomb of its local Saint. Part of the dress of the Prophet is yearly soaked in a large quantity of water, which is bottled into small vials, and sent to all the great dignitaries of the Empire. So vain have been the Prophet's efforts to establish a practical Monotheism.

While God was uttering through his lips, and writing through his pen,

Mohammed took his lot with us, a man with other

men;

And thus in our due love to him, and awe for God

alone,

We bless his memory as the chest that holds the precious stone.

So, though 'tis well that where entombed, his holy body lies,

Praises and prayers from faithful crowds to Allah's name should rise.

The best of Mosques is still the tent where earnest Muslims meet,

The best of Minarets is the rock that desert tempests

beat.

We all have Mekkeh in our hearts, who speak and act the truth; *

We all are Saints who read the Book and worship from our youth.

Men are no happier than they were for all El-Azhar's

lore,†

And if our Faith wins Paradise, can knowledge win us

more?

* The Wahabees allowed a certain veneration for Mekkeh, as Protestantism permits for Jerusalem, but discouraged pilgrimages generally.

+ The great college at Cairo, the Oxford of Arabia.

We will not that the gifts of God, so good when used

aright,

Should leave their wholesome natural ends and turn to His despite ;

That men should change the sweetest flowers to bitter poison weeds:

The Book has said that "everyone is hostage for his deeds." "" *

Man should be man; the world is his to conquer and command,

No pipe or downy bed for him, but horse and sword in hand;

Let they who will consume their lives in joys of vicious

ease,―

The Prophet's word will scarce prevail with Preachers such as these.

Let women love Damascus silk, give us Damascus

blades,

The shawls of rich Cashmere look best on our Circassian maids ;

We wear the homely woollen woof, such as Mohammed

wore,

Nor steal from herbs the drunken dreams that he with

wine forswore.

* Kuràn, chap. lii. v. 21.

We know that time is worst than lost, which is not used for gain,

For Life is not a jest, and God will not create in

vain,

And thus we will not rest while earth has idols still to

fall;

Till Islam is indeed Islam, and Allah God for all !

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