How true the observation that the most helpless of all creatures is man, born of a woman, who cometh forth like the tender bud of a delicate and fading flower.

The ever-living soul embarks on the vast ocean of life, in so frail and delicate a tenement, that there is no semblance of strength to resist the angry waves that continually dash against the tempest-tossed and quivering fabric.

But it outrides the storm of three score years and ten, until it is engulfed in the maelstrom and eddying circles of the river of Death. How vast, how exquisite are the sensibilities of man, whose first emotions of pleasure and pain, are the alphabet of humanity.

The pleasure felt by a sentient being, creates the first ideas of good, while on the other hand the sensation of pain is synonymous with evil. As we awake into existence, each passing moment seems to develop new desires; our grasping souls and bodily wants are constantly re-echoing each other’s cravings; unsatisfied human nature is ever on the alert, crying, give, give. This restless search for good, pleasure, or happiness, leads its victims astray, and thus is created the preponderance of evil; for such hot and eager haste stays not to discriminate. The fatal apple seemed so good and so much to be desired to the mother of all living, that she took, and ate; but when she had eaten her eyes were opened. Thus by such efforts to secure the good, the limit is overstepped, and suffering and sorrow entailed. Still, none enjoy, and none suffer in the same degree; innumerable have been the specimens of nature’s handiwork, yet never were any two individuals alike in their natural or intellectual structure.

There is a wonderful connection between the physical and the moral in our curious composition; and the latter is so much modified by the former, that the variety of temperaments and dispositions may be attributed to the reciprocal influences of these two constituents of our being. The origin of good and evil is then embodied in our own hearts, in the structure of the human frame, in our natural susceptibilities to pleasure and pain.

The individuality of pleasure and pain creates an approving and disapproving principle in every human frame, and each man is pleased with himself, when he enjoys a personal benefit from good or pleasure, and displeased when he suffers from the consequences of pain or evil. The lesson is soon learned that the evil might have been avoided, and conscience raises her silent testimony in the bosom. Apart from our own sensations, there seems to be a superstitious principle innate in the human breast, a deference to a supreme good, which as the Ruler and Creator of the universe, holds all created things in awe, and to whom the conscience or self-approving and self-condemning principle pays all deference.

This principle has existed under every form of humanity, in every variety of nation and blood, and has been educated, and developed by different circumstances.

Thus are derived all religions, and the fear of retribution for transgressing the bounds which conscience claims for the real good, and its essence the supreme Creator, has led men to various acts of atonement or self-recommendation.

The mind of man instinctively looked from “Nature up to Nature’s God,” and sought an embodiment for the Divine essence, as there was for the human.

The earliest semblance of Divinity was displayed in the sun, moon, and stars. The glorious orb of day, the great source of light and heat, the vivifier of all creation, whose genial rays warming the bosom of the mother earth, caused the tender grass to spring forth, and every herb yielding fruit, to give its increase for the sustenance of animal life, the great luminary of the vast universe, so beautiful to gaze upon, and so powerful in its sway over the world alotted to man for a dwelling-place, seemed as if placed in the heavens for the especial adoration of all created things.

The gentle moon with silver sheen, and softer radiance was fitting bride for the all glorious and omnipotent god of day. And the sparkling stars, like so many distant portals to the dominions of divine effulgence, emitting each a ray of the internal brightness, seemed one and all shrines of holy devotion.

Such was the revelation of nature; and no wonder that the innate impulse to revere and worship the Author of the universe, was kindled into a fire of enthusiasm by the scintillations of the starry world.

Not content with the semblance of the Creator in his works, the ever-working mind of man sought an object more tangible—and thus, doubtless originated the idol worship of the ancients. Then followed a succession of creeds and dogmas, rites and ceremonies, to which the superstitious principle was ever ready to yield obeisance.

Ambitious and designing men sought to embody in themselves the germs of sanctity and holiness—even did they add the sanction of intercourse with the gods; even did they awaken the silent marble into mysterious life, and utter oracles and decrees from the lifeless stone.

Thus was nurtured the superstitious feeling in the multitude, until the most absurd and revolting rites became the sole end, and aim of existence—until the simple Hindoo, would, with a holy zeal, cast himself under the wheels of the ponderous car of Juggernaut, and while his tortured body was crushed to atoms, rejoice with ecstatic faith in future felicity.

The same principle of superstitious self-torment has existed in as great force under the Christian dispensation.

Even kings and emperors have tried to stifle the voice of conscience by the most severe acts of penance and humiliation; and the humbler members of the human family have willingly suffered every variety of bodily anguish, which the most cunning devices of a wily and calculating priesthood could contrive, while from many and hidden motives, they have striven to produce an entire abnegation of self, and a renunciation of all worldly hopes in the sin-tormented hearts of their victims.

Wars were undertaken, territories were coveted, and a holy crusade was the pretext for taking possession of the city of Jerusalem, the shrine of the holy sepulchre, and where crowds of pilgrims brought their offerings and laid them in the coffers of the sanctuary.

The dangers which beset the pilgrims amid the scimitars of the barbarous Tartars, was the pretext for all Europe to rise in arms with the determination to conquer or die in their defence.

A wild enthusiast, with haggard features—a body worn and wasted with fasting and holy vigils, and enveloped in coarse and dusty sackcloth, elevating the symbolic cross in his attenuated fingers, wanders from palace to palace, from house to house, from hut to hamlet, calling aloud for vengeance upon the followers of the Crescent, who dared to molest the children of God in the performance of their sacred duties. As his naked feet, pierced by every flinty rock, leave their crimson stains in his track, so does the thirst for Moslem blood burn and consume the vitals of the restless human throngs, who listen to his wild harangues.

Pope Urban was ready to fan this flame, and the panting multitude were by his holy and supreme power absolved from the weight of all past offences as well as all those they should ever commit, if they would prosecute with zeal this holy war.

The worst of sinners, robbers and assassins, over whose hardened hearts there still lingered the dying glow of the internal fire of conscience, or before whose sin-distempered vision ever flittered the phantoms of past transgressions, rejoiced to say avaunt for ever, to the ghosts of their departed crimes, and feel an assurance of no future retribution for their dark deeds of horror. A new field for rapine and adventure opened before them, and they rushed impetuously on to the combat. Many, who had led a life of more retired wickedness and grown grey in sin were glad to seize a hope of salvation even on the borders of eternity, and tottered along with the vast concourse.

Rich and poor, young and old, with fervid zeal embraced the means of future happiness beyond the grave. And the vast territory through which these soldiers of the Cross wended their way was whitened with the bones of the self sacrificed.

Even after the great champion Godfrey de Bouillon, had gained the prize, and enjoyed a regal rank of one short year’s duration, he had to surrender his earthly throne to his holiness at Rome, and content himself like his followers with the hopes of a kingdom in the unseen world.

Vain would be the effort to count the victims of religious enthusiasm; of the attempts to appease the great unseen essence of human life; to propitiate the favor of that Power, which, as it has called into being, can also summon his creatures from their earthly tenements, and dispose of their spirits, as seemeth best to his sovereign will.

But holy wars, and sin-atoning pilgrimages, are not confined to the followers of the Cross.

Wherever the Cresent glitters on the dome, or the muezzin proclaims the ezan from the pointed minarÉ; wherever throughout the vast dominions of the Mussulmans, resounds the cry Allah Ikber! Allah Ikber! are the countless votaries of the religion of Mohammed, ready to arise from their peaceful homes, and perform the sacred journey to the shrine of their faith, the holy temple at Mecca. And year after year, do the pilgrims trace a wearisome way through desert plains and scorching heats, to the spot where they may roll off the burden of self-condemnation, and kiss the all-atoning stone, which has been the heirloom to mortality, since the foundation of the world.

Although throngs of Mussulman pilgrims yearly visit the holy city of Mecca, but few Europeans have left the impress of their footsteps upon its soil.

What millions of human beings, nothing intimidated by deserts, mountains, and all sorts of hardships, have paid their devotions to this shrine! The great have visited it with pomp, and all its train of luxury and display; the grasping spirit of trade, has summoned merchants from all parts of the East. The learned and wise, of times that were, and times that are, have on the same occasion, collecting the productions of genius, sought a mart for literature and renown. Sultanas, and ladies of high and noble rank, have changed their silken couches for wandering homes through the desert.

Old age has tottered thither staff in hand, and poverty has never failed to swell the concourse with its numberless train. The vast multitude, hundreds of thousands of every rank and profession, crying “La Illah! Il-Allah! Mohammed Ressoul Ullah!” every year people the silent wastes of sand with the buzz of human voices, as they toil along their weary way to the holy city of Mecca.

Every Mohammedan is enjoined to perform this pilgrimage, or if unable to go, to send a proxy, or an offering.

“Verily, the first house appointed unto men to worship in, was that which is in Mecca, blessed, and a direction to all creatures.”

For there was the Kubla, or point to which they were to turn their faces in prayer.

“And proclaim unto the people a solemn pilgrimage; let them come unto thee on foot, and on every lean camel, arriving from every distant road; that they may be witnesses of the advantages which accrue to them from the visiting this holy place, and may commemorate the name of God, on the appointed days, in gratitude for the brute cattle which he hath bestowed on them.”

According to the traditions of the Arabs, the city of Mecca has been the place of religious veneration, from the earliest times. Near this city, on a mountain, Adam is said to have met his wife Eve, two hundred years after the expulsion from Paradise.

Here when Abraham was ready to sacrifice his son Ishmael (not Isaac), the identical ram, which had been offered by Abel many years before, was substituted in his place, sent expressly from Paradise.

Here also, in the days of idolatry, was a temple dedicated to Saturn, now the holy temple of Mecca. So that Mohammed found this place already consecrated by sacred and ancient associations.

Mecca, the birth-place, and Medina, the tomb of the Prophet, are situated near each other; and not far from the coast of the Red Sea. Mecca is in a valley surrounded by barren hills, which produce nothing but the stones of which the houses are constructed. Water, so essential to life, and most especially to all Mussulmans, is only supplied by rain which is collected in cisterns; no streams flowing from the adjacent mountains. Doubtless, the exceeding value all Mohammedans attach to the pure element, is owing to its scarcity in these regions, where their religion was promulgated, and the Koran revealed from heaven. Their Paradise is represented as abounding in fountains.

There is “the water of Keafeeree, or camphor,” a fountain at which the people of God shall drink, so likened from the aromatic freshness of this gum, and its snowy whiteness. The waters of zengefeel or ginger, and the fountain of zelzebil, whose streams glide softly down the throat; and the fountain of Taz-nim, which flows from the highest regions of Paradise, and whereof those shall drink who approach the Divine presence.

Notwithstanding the barrenness of the soil and the unfavorable situation of the city of Mecca, the wealth of its inhabitants is very great.

Arabia Felix, truly happy in comparison to the barren and desert tracts by which she is surrounded, where the gentle zephyrs are perfumed and laden with aromatic odors, whose villages and towns are crowned with plenty, and adorned with gardens of delight, and trees bearing all kinds of fruit, “Araby the blest” pours her treasures into this holy city. Her gums and spices, olibanum, or frankincense, myrrh of many kinds, balsams, sugar canes, cocoa nuts, and the fragrant berry from Mocha. Nature rejoices in a perpetual spring, in this genial clime which neither chills nor scorches her spicy products.

In Mecca, congregate a vast crowd of Mussulmans with their merchandise from all quarters of the East, so that the inducement, held out by the Prophet, that “they may be witnesses of the advantages which accrue from visiting this holy place,” has no little power on the calculations of the enterprising, while a misguided religious zeal sways the multitude.

The holy temple of Mecca has been under the successive patronage of the caliphs, the sultans of Egypt and of Turkey, until by the constant acquisition of wealth, it has attained its present splendid magnificence.

No unbeliever can profane the sacred precincts with the dust of his feet, nor approach within gun shot of the consecrated portico, during the season of the visitation of the pilgrims. Nor must the Faithful defile their sinless bodies by any contact with the unsanctified flesh and blood of the infidel Jews and Christians.

“O true believers, verily the idolaters are unclean; let them not therefore come near unto the holy temple after this year.

“And if ye fear want, by the cutting off trade, and communication with them, God will enrich you of his abundance, if he pleaseth; for God is knowing and wise.”

“It is not fitting that the idolaters should visit the temples of God, being witnesses against their own souls of their infidelity.”

Considering the resources which have contributed to construct and adorn this shrine of the Mohammedan faith, the great wealth of many nations, and the centuries which have successively rolled on, each adding the superstitious offerings of religious votaries, it is no wonder that it is magnificent to behold. The model from Paradise, the rebuilding by Abram, and its preservation for so many years.

The whole city of Mecca is considered holy ground but the objects of special adoration are inclosed within a magnificent colonnade, the foundation of which was laid by the second caliph Omer, to prevent intrusion upon the sanctum sanctorum. The space inclosed by this portico is about seven statium. The foundations are broad and lofty, and approached by an extended flight of marble steps, on both sides, without and within. No less than four hundred and eighty-four columns support an arched entablature, which is crowned by a succession of domes, surmounted by glittering crescents. The colonnade is quadrangular, and in the four corners are minarÉs, raising their tapering spires to heaven, in emblem of the ascending orisons of the faithful, and from whose gilded galleries the sacred imams have, since unnumbered suns have risen and set, proclaimed the hours of adoration.

No gloomy darkness ever enshrouds this structure; for when day withdraws its more glaring brightness, innumerable lamps cast their fitful light around the pillars.

What tales could these marble columns whisper of human hopes, and even holier aspirations; of the wicked schemes of intriguing imams, as with sacerdotal robes and turbans of emerald hue, they traced their cautious way from pillar to pillar, and received and blessed the vast concourse of souls, borne down with the ills and sins of humanity. How honeyed their benedictions as they lay their gilded palms on the humble suppliant, who would gladly bestow all his earthly treasures for a sure hope of heaven where his joys would be enduring.

Poor weak mortals! tools of each other, and victims of the calculating; the deceiver and deceived, on the same journey, on the same race course, where the goal is Eternity!

Beneath these domes, and overshadowed by these tall minarÉs, the poet and the scholar have met to repeat the traditions and romances so peculiar to the glowing imaginations of the Oriental world, and to vie with each other for literary fame; the astrologer and diviner, no doubt the very genii and fairies of Arabian myth, have mingled in the throng.

With what emotion have the deluded victims of superstition and remorse prostrated themselves upon the hallowed ground, and with what ecstatic faith in the rewards of their holy pilgrimage, have the only true believers kissed the dust of the consecrated earth.

Within this beautiful portico, there is a vast space, in the middle of which stands the Caaba itself.

After Adam was driven from Paradise, he begged the Almighty to allow him to erect a Beit-el-maamur, or house of God, similar to the one he had seen there. Therefore the Caaba was let down to Mecca, directly under the Heavenly Temple. This was rebuilt after the deluge by Abram, or as some say, again descended from the celestial realms, where it had been preserved, and has been in the possession of the Ishmaelites, or Arabs, ever since.

The Caaba, or house of God, is a square building of stone, 24 cubits long, 23 broad and 27 high. It is nearly surrounded by a semicircular colonnade, at the base of which is a low balustrade.

Bars of silver, from which lamps are suspended, connect the pillars at the top.

How mystic and beautiful are the glimmerings of these lights, as they glisten on the dark night, in their silver lamps, casting uncertain shadows around the marble columns—their dubious shining conjuring up the shades of the Prophet and his honored descendants, all arrayed in jealous and sacred green to watch the devotions of the multitude, as they surround the shrine.

The outside of the Caaba is covered with rich black damask, which is renewed every year.

The holy imams, pitying the true and faithful, and wishing to ward off from them the dangers of sudden death, and the thousand other casualties of life, bestow a small portion of the covering of this house of God, which has imbibed the sanctity of three hundred and sixty-five days’ duration, and, therewith, the power to avert all such evils. A small amount of worldly wealth is sufficient to touch the heart of the holy Emir, who grants this precious charm, which, resting in the bosom of its happy possessor, yields to him a sweet repose from the anticipation of sudden trials which befall the less fortunate inheritors of human life.

Outside of this black damask is a band of gold which surrounds the Caaba, and whose lustre is undimmed by time, for it is renewed every year by the sultan of Turkey. The very rain which flows from the roof of this edifice, partakes of its sanctity, and is conducted therefrom by a spout of solid gold, whence it trickles down on the tomb of Ishmael, the head and founder of the Arab race.

Near the Caaba is the stone on which the patriarch Abraham stood, when he was rebuilding the holy temple; and even his very foot-prints are to be seen on the solid piece of rock, leaving no shadow of doubt as to its identity.

This ancient architect, unwilling to deface the walls by a scaffolding, when they were beyond his reach, stood upon this stone, which chance threw in his way; and, wonderful interposition of Allah! the stone raised him when necessary, let him down again, and transported him around his precious work, until the whole was finished!

What a treasure to architecture, more worthy of fame than the undiscovered stone of the philosopher; how carefully to be watched and guarded from the profanations of unbelieving house-builders for all time to come.

Upon the southeast corner of the Caaba is the black stone set in silver, which was dropped down from Paradise.

Like other gems of the heavenly sphere, it was originally white and shining—but alas! its brightness is dimmed, and even changed to perfect blackness, by its contact with human sin. For ever since its removal to this world, it has been polluted by the touch of mortals, and the contact of their sinful lips.

The interior of the Caaba is approached by a silver door, about the height of a man from the ground, to which they ascend by movable steps. There is a single room hung with red and green embroidered damask, and the roof is supported by four pillars eight feet square, made of aloes wood.

A sweet perfume pervades this apartment, which has been emitted from these pillars ever since Mohammed was born in the holy city of Medina, and silver lamps are suspended, which burn night and day. Near the Caaba are small chapels for the imams of the different Mohammedan sects, who severally bestow their blessings upon the pilgrims.

The agonized mother of Ishmael, wandering in the wilderness, her scanty bottle of water quite empty, having cast her helpless infant under the shrubs, and retreated that she might not see him die, sat at a distance and lifted up her voice and wept.

The dying moans of the infant reached the ears of the angel of God, who, to save the father of a great nation, caused the well-spring of water to gush forth from its recesses in the bowels of the earth.

As the ministering angel wiped the tears from the eyes of the disconsolate mother, she spied the crystal water, and hastened to administer to the fainting child. This same well, called the well of zem-zem, is near the holy house of prayer, and the thirsty pilgrims every year quaff its venerated waters and carry some of it to all parts of the Mohammedan dominions.

Such being the holy places, no wonder that every Mussulman, whether commanded or not, should desire to visit these sacred relics of antiquity.

And were it not forbidden, doubtless the unbelievers also would gladly undertake the same pilgrimage to witness the miraculous preservation of objects which are, some of them, incorporated with their own faith.

Four caravans meet in the city of Mecca, in the month Zil-hidjay, or the month of pilgrimage, every year—one from Cairo, one from Constantinople, a third from the Barbary states, and a fourth from India. The Egyptian caravan waits for the arrival of the one from Constantinople at Redowa near the holy cities. As the Sultan of Turkey holds the possession of the holy cities in his own territories, he is bound to send certain offerings to the shrine, which are the gold band and black damask covering for the Caaba, with a large sum of money to be distributed among the priests at Mecca. A certain kind of money is expressly coined at the royal mint for the pilgrimage, called the Caaba money. It is in gold pieces, and every one who goes to Mecca must provide himself with this circulating medium.

The wants of the numerous poor pilgrims are provided for in part, by an appeal to the superstitions of the populace. A model of the temple at Mecca is paraded through the streets followed by a crowd of the zealous chanting hosannas in Arabic, accompanied by the music of a drum of antique contrivance.

But few can withhold a tribute. The miser opens his hoards, and the widow adds her slender mite; the grandee and the slave, one and all, gladly answer the appeal of their fellows, when under a banner of such sacred veneration, and for a cause so laudable as a pilgrimage to the holy shrine of their faith. Rich and poor are busily employed in preparations.

The dervish in his humble robes, needs no costly array. His garb of sanctity, and the renunciation of all the trappings of wealth, open the purses of the more gaily apparelled; and often the rags of a mendicant conceal a full purse, much better filled perhaps, than his, who has spent his all on costly embroideries and richly caparisoned steeds.

The pasha and the efendi arrange their financial affairs, taking care to carry costly offerings, and largesse, wherewith to impress the multitude with their own greatness.

The ladies of the harems, in like manner, collect their jewels, their perfumes, in a word gifts of all things esteemed rare and precious, that they may not go empty-handed to the holy temple.

The merchants pack up their silks and rich stuffs of all sorts, and prepare for edification both temporal and spiritual.

Considering the immense throng of pilgrims, what must be the din of preparation throughout the Ottoman dominion?

Constantinople, its sultan, its treasury, its inhabitants high and low, its ladies, its saints and beggars—even the lisping children are whispering, God is great, Mohammed is his Apostle, and the Caaba is the house of God. The Egyptian viceroy is assembling his horseman and his camels at Berket el Hadge; the Maghrubees, or Barbaresques, are sharpening their scimitars, and preparing as if for war. India’s wealth, her pearls, shawls, and rubies, and stately elephants, are slowly wending their way to the shores of the Persian Gulf, where at al Katif, on the Arabian side, the old sheikh is tarrying with his herds of camels, to sell or hire them for the passage of the desert.

The holy Mecca is thus, for several months at least, the theme of all classes of Mohammedans.

At length the day arrives to begin the journey so fraught with blessings temporal and spiritual.

The conductor of the Constantinople caravan, called the SurrÉ Emminee, or the trustee of the pilgrimage, proceeds to the palace, to receive his commission from the sultan; and to him are consigned all the treasures destined for Mecca.

All hopes of worldly aggrandizement are henceforth renounced by this dignitary; for having once imbibed the holy atmosphere of Mecca, his future aspirations are supposed to be only heavenward. He therefore, upon his return, generally retires to Damascus, where, nearer to the shrine, and in a clime more genial for holiness, he awaits his translation into that Paradise, of which his earthly honors are the type and foretaste.

Quitting the august presence of the “Thrice happy lord of the refulgent Mecca,” the SurrÉ Emminee goes to the Porte, where he takes leave of his former colleagues in temporal greatness, and thence to the gate of the Sheikh-ul-Islam, who grants his blessing on the enterprise.

The pilgrims and others collect about him, and they proceed to Bahchai Capusoo, where a steamer is waiting to transport them over to Scutari, in Asia.

There, all along the route, are multitudes of people waiting to see the procession.

The insignia of the SurrÉ Emminee are borne before him; two long poles, to which the expressive horse-tails are attached, and the Pasha of two tails follows on a beautiful Arabian charger.

The treasures destined for Mecca succeed on a train of camels, all bedecked with ribbons and spangles. But this world’s grandeurs are bestowed unequally even to these patient animals; for there is one of their number who outshines all his fellows. A venerable camel is covered with trappings enriched with precious stones of rare and sparkling lustre, for on his back he carries the sacred Koran extravagantly bound, and enclosed in a golden box set in brilliants; the gift of the sultan to the temple.

Happy is this distinguished animal, and his companions also, if they survive the pilgrimage and return; for, like the SurrÉ Emminee, they are exempt from all future toil in this work-day world; and when Death at last claims them for his prey, they enjoy the honors of a burial, where no rude dogs or vultures can disturb their remains.

The ValidÉ Sultan, or the mother of the sultan, reclines in her Tahtravan, a sort of elongated sedan chair, which is suspended on long poles between two camels and magnificent in proportion to the high rank of its occupant.

Mussulman women and children follow, in huge panniers, suspended on the sides of camels, horses, and donkeys.

Indeed, the good fathers and husbands of the Osmanlis are ever anxious to ensure to the female portion of their families high places in the celestial regions; and they are generally accompanied by their harems.

“It is incumbent on him whose family shall not be present at the holy temple, to fast three days in the pilgrimage, and seven when he is returned; they shall be ten days complete.”

And the same period of fasting is enjoined upon him “who findeth not anything to offer” at the shrine.

Mohammed himself set an example in this respect; for when he encompassed the Caaba, he was accompanied by his family, and his wife Kadijah, who, with his daughter Fatima, were two of the four women whom he pronounced to have attained a state of perfection on this side of the grave.

Trains of servants, led horses and camels, swell the concourse; and the whole is protected by a body of cavalry.

About six miles from Scutari, there is a fountain which bears the name of Iraluk Cheshmaysee, or the fountain of separation.

Thus far a number of friends and relations have accompanied the pilgrims; but, as in the journey of life, none can carry their loved ones with them into the celestial regions, so these travellers who are on an emblematic pilgrimage must now sunder strong ties, and loosen their hearts from earthly affections.

Fountain of parting! how are thy streams now accumulating, as the pearly drops of human woe trickle in among thy waters; how many days must pass ere those waters regain their crystal brightness, now all turbid with the crimson gushings of the heart blood of fathers, mothers, wives, husbands, and children!

Sadly they part: some turn their faces homeward with bitter sighs, while the pilgrims pursue their course, every advancing step widening the distance, till their clouded eyes can discern no further traces of the severed.

Even as faith reveals to the dying the glory of a celestial world, and reconciles the most trembling to a passage from the dim scenes of Earth; so does superstition foreshadowing the hour of mortal dissolution, display an earthly temple as the vestibule to the heavenly.

With eager steps, the pilgrims now press onwards, till they reach the most ancient and beautiful city of Damascus; where they halt for the caravans from Bagdad, Aleppo, and the neighboring towns. Time-worn associations flit about this monument of the wealth of the earliest founders of cities, after the universal deluge.

As the descendants of the great survivor of the wreck of the antediluvian world sought out a portion of the wide expanse of uninhabited, and as yet uncultivated earth, this lovely valley of nature’s own handiwork seemed to invite their tarrying, as it lay in calm repose, all fresh and verdant from the great waste of waters. Perhaps they discovered the ruins of a great city, the remnants of ancestral wealth; or the relics of the luxury and degeneracy which brought about the awful destruction of the victims of the flood.

Rapidly rose the proud city, and was famed even at the time of the first battle of which there is any record, of the five kings against four, the great Chedorlaomar and the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah, when the patriarch Abram went to rescue his nephew Lot, who had been taken captive.

It was the birth-place, too, of Eliezer, the steward of Abram, who must have been a man of superior attainments, as he had the care of all his master’s possessions, and even of the betrothal of his beloved son Isaac.

This ancient capital of Syria did not escape the enthusiasm of Moslem conquest, and the great Saracen generals, Abu-Obeidah and Khaled, took possession of the famous city, after a slaughter of 50,000 infidels, during the reign of Abubekir, the successor of Mohammed, A. D. 633. Damascus now became the capital of the Ottoman dominions, and their pride and glory; for they boast Evvely sham, Akhery sham, or, that as they had their beginning in Sham or Damascus, so there also, they will have their end.

So precious do they esteem this city, that it is styled the pearl surrounded by diamonds, and the gate of the most holy Mecca.

Here, then, at the most beautiful gate, do the pilgrims to the sacred shrine delight to repose awhile, their senses ravished with the loveliest enchantments of nature. Their eager vision extends over vast plains of richly waving foliage, mingling with its emerald hues, the brilliant tints of the citron, pomegranate, and fig. Sweet odors of aromatic freshness pervade the balmy air, while luscious and juicy fruits revive their thirsty senses. Over this vast and exquisite prospect, tower tall minarÉs, and graceful domes with glittering crescents, proclaiming as far as the eye can reach, the sway of Mohammed Ressoul Ullah.

But there is yet a weary way to the shrine, and the zealous throng, now swelled to a vast multitude, renew their journey. If the weather is very oppressive, they encamp in the day-time, and proceed by the light of innumerable torches at night.

How mysterious the pageant, stretching its long train over the barren and trackless sands. The camels, with stealthy step, waving their long necks slowly and majestically; now and then the Arabian coursers neighing in wearied restlessness, break the silence. Then a voice chanting a hymn of praise, and anon, a shout or chorus from the multitude. Now all is still, and fitful shadows glide along side by side with the wanderers, as the bright jewels on the camels glisten in the torch-light.

The caravan has passed, leaving in its track many palpitating forms, panting on the sands for that breath of life, which is rapidly exhaling from their bodies.

So weary a way—sometimes no water to quench the thirst, which rages in proportion to the scarcity of its antidote; fatigue adding its prostrating effects day by day, no wonder that many of the way-worn pilgrims are transferred to the Heavenly Temple, without a sight of the earthly.

The caravan from Cairo is also moving onwards, made up of a motley multitude, headed by the Emir Hadgee, who is appointed by the pasha of Cairo, and receives great emoluments from his office. Every pilgrim pays him a certain sum for the enregistering of his name and property, and the possessions of all those who die on the road, are also his perquisites. He is the governor of the pilgrimage, and is judge and jury in all matters of dispute. The Egyptians always carry with them the tomb of Hassan, and accompanied by cavalry and artillery, they proceed as far as Redowa, near Medina, where they are to meet the Constantinople caravan. About two days’ journey from Cairo, they arrive at a place called Miz-Haara, the ancient Marah of the Israelites, where, when the people murmured at the bitterness of the waters, Moses cast a tree into them, and they became sweet, of surpassing sweetness to all thirsty pilgrims. Thus they travel over the same wilderness as their ancient predecessors, encamping in the very spots selected by Moses for the tents of the chosen people of God.

After these caravans meet, they proceed, a vast multitude, to a village about sixty miles from Mecca, where is Abram’s mountain, on which he erected the altar to sacrifice his son.

On the top of this hill is a mosque, where an old sheikh resides, who, as the pilgrims halt, stands on the brow of the hill, and delivers an address to them on the importance of the duty they are performing, reminding them also of the blessings in store for all zealous Mussulmans. To what an immense audience does this lonely old man once a year proclaim the tenets of the Koran, and how eagerly do their thirsty souls quaff the water of everlasting life as he dispenses it.

Now the Emir Hadgee conducts the pilgrims one by one to the feet of the sheikh, as he stands in the mosque on the top of the hill, Rabiie. As they enter one door and pass out at the other in rapid succession, each one is touched by the divining rod in the hands of the old sheikh, and the burden of all their past transgressions rolls from their backs, as he pronounces the words, “May sin here leave thee.”

Lightened from the pressure of sin in every form, they run swiftly down the hill, and bathing their hands and faces in a stream which flows below, they become renewed, men, women, and children; and prepared to gaze upon the holy city of Mecca, which is not far distant. Now turning their faces to the shrine, the true believers hasten on their way; sometimes halting at the tomb of Eve, which is at Giddeh, the port of Mecca.

This illustrious and ancient mother of the human race must have been a dame of fair proportions; for her grave measures, from the head to the foot stone, no less than twenty-five yards, or seventy-five English feet. If she was of such exceeding stature, what must have been the dimensions of our great parent Adam, or what lofty personages must have been the giants of those days.

After travelling about three days longer, the domes of the Holy Temple are descried in the distance; when the multitude with mad delight prostrate themselves on the ground, and kissing the earth three times, proclaim with tremendous clamor, La Illah! Ill Lallah! Mohammed Ressoul Ullah!

There is no other God but God! Mohammed the Apostle of God!

The artillery is now fired to announce the arrival of the caravans to the inhabitants of Mecca, who, headed by the Shereef of the city and all the Imams, immediately proceed to meet the pilgrims, and conduct them within the sacred precincts.

Those who possess but scanty means, encamp without the city, and others are accommodated at khans, which are very numerous.

The next thing is to visit the bath, and thus purify themselves for the ceremonies at the temple—“I will wash my hands in innocency, so will I compass thine altar, O Lord.” Having invested themselves in the ehram, or covering of crimson woollen shag, which is always wrapped around the person on this occasion, they proceed to the Caaba.

Mohammed having performed these same ceremonies, his followers have ever since imitated his example.

Immediately after the Prophet took possession of the city of Mecca, he proceeded to the Caaba. There he stood upon the roof of the house of prayer, and proclaimed the first ezan, or call to prayer, at noon-day.

He then commenced his adorations at the shrine, by first kissing the black stone in the corner, near the door of the Caaba, then he proceeded to compass the building seven times, and then again kissed the sin-atoning stone. When the Caaba was let down from heaven to Adam, he requested that it might be so placed that he could compass it as he had seen the angels do. Ever since the creation, the number seven has had a mystic signification, and its sacred meaning is demonstrated in these devotions of the faithful. Mohammed then proclaimed to the people from Mount Arafat, the manner in which they were to perform the ceremonies at the Temple, and went to the valley of Mina, where he threw seven stones at the devil, every time pronouncing the words, Allah IkbÉr! Allah IkbÉr! God Almighty! God Omnipotent, as did Adam and Abraham, when the great Adversary interrupted their devotions.

The enemies of the Prophet account for the accumulation of stones in this valley by the following story.

It is well known that Mohammed was assisted in the preparation of the Koran, by an Armenian monk, by name Serkiss. When their work was completed, the Prophet wished to attest it by a miracle.

He accordingly persuaded Serkiss to descend into a deep well, while he called all the multitude to assemble. Holding a blank book in his hand, he declared that if the Koran was indeed revealed from Heaven, he would drop this blank-book into the well, and Allah would send it up all written and inscribed.

The book descended, and Serkiss sent up the one he had already prepared. “Now,” said Mohammed, “let each man cast a stone into the well, which will be a monument to the world.” Whereupon every one of the great concourse cast a stone, and thus effectually prevented Serkiss from appearing to contradict the miracle. Ever since that time, the pilgrims have helped to accumulate these stones, until a vast monument, indeed, has been erected.

The Prophet now offered the sacrifice of sixty-three camels, according to the years of his own life, shaved his head, and having run seven times between the two hills Safa and Merwa, in imitation of Hagar searching for water, he completed the holy ceremonies.

According to this model have the pilgrims continued, ever since his time, the performance of these superstitious devotions.

The holy duties of the shrine being over, after a few worldly cares are disposed of, the now self-satisfied travellers turn their footsteps homewards. Purified, and set apart, henceforth the chosen of Allah, fearless of all danger, as if within the shadow of the eternal world, nothing intimidates the followers of the Prophet, as with the greatest self-complacency they anticipate the rest of their sojourn in this lower world. Many have sacrificed all their earthly possessions, but are they not sure of the imperishable riches of paradise. With eager fondness, they embrace once again friends and relations, while the odor of sanctity exhales from their sacred persons. With what panting bosoms and restless vision do the friends search among the remnant returned from the wanderings, for dear and familiar faces; and human wailings rend the air, as they are told that brother, sister, and husband, lie whitening on the sand, long ere this the prey of the vulture. The happy father clasps to his breast his precious offspring, and with sweet complacency, ties around its neck a morsel the holy covering of the Caaba, so sure the charm, and obtained at such infinite perils. The pilgrims are surrounded, and with jealous caution they bestow a few drops of the water of the holy well Zem-Zem, which glides down the throats of the faithful like the oily fountains of Paradise.

The weary camels even linger out their lives in luxurious idleness, retired from oppressive service, with an air of unconscious sanctity and repose.

Henceforward, the glorious title of Hadgee, belongs to the returned pilgrim; no razor profanes the beard, and the very door of the house, by its hue of the Prophet’s robe, the sacred green, proclaims the rank and holiness of its master.

The Hadgee, with long and solemn face, never wearies of recounting his wonderful adventures, portraying with ecstasy, the splendors of the shrine, detailing with holy rapture the ceremonies and devotions, until the flame of superstitious zeal is enkindled in every bosom, and their spirits yearn for the sweet sanctity and all-atoning atmosphere of the most refulgent Mecca—and many vows are made that in the coming year, their footsteps shall surely be thitherward.

Such, then, are the illusions which beguile life’s wearisome journey to the followers of Mohammed; such the stepping-stones to their future Elysium.

Thus the tortures of conscience are eased, and thus does superstition stand fully armed at the portals of the soul.

Few, indeed, are the members of the great human family, who dare to combat this enemy to moral greatness; and how small the number of those, who renounce her sway. Chained down to creeds and dogmas, the mind of man seldom soars above the atmosphere of human inventions, but relyingly lingers in the leading strings of bigotry, in one form or another.

Thus is constituted the Practice of the Mohammedan Religion, viz., Ablutions, Prayers, Alms, Fasting, and the Pilgrimage to Mecca, which are denominated Farz, or obligatory. There are, however, many other traditional observances termed SÜnnet, which as the Turks are SÜnnees or traditionists, they have incorporated with their religious duties, such as circumcision, and many other rites. These rites, whose observance is only optional, are, however, performed with as much zeal and ceremony as those required by the Koran. Although the ceremony of circumcision is not alluded to in the Koran, and therefore not indispensable, yet it is a custom generally observed, and is performed when the child is able to pronounce the formula of faith “La Illah, Ill Allah, Mohammed Ressoul Ullah,” or is about the age of seven years.

This is a great festival, and when the sultan’s children, or those of any of the grandees, are the neophytes, a general invitation is extended to other candidates. Music, dancing, and feasting occupy the minds and distract the thoughts of the numerous company, young and old, during the week devoted to this ceremony.