INTRODUCTION. I.-THE ARABS BEFORE MOHAMMAD. 'Oh, our manhood's prime vigour! No spirit feels waste, -BROWNING, Saul. BETWEEN Egypt and Assyria, jostled by both, yielding to neither, lay a strange country, unknown save at its marches even to its neighbours, dwelt-in by a people that held itself aloof from all the earth-a people whom the great empires of the ancient world in vain essayed to conquer, against whom the power of Persia, Egypt, Rome, Byzantium was proven impotence, and at whose hands even the superb Alexander, had he lived to test his dream, might for once have learnt the lesson of defeat. Witnessing the struggle and fall of one and another of the great tyrannies of antiquity, yet never entering the arena of the fight;swept on its northern frontier by the conflicting armies of Khusru and Cæsar, but lifting never a hand in either cause; Arabia was at length to issue forth from its silent. mystery, and after baffling for a thousand years the curious gaze of strangers, was at last to draw to itself the fearful eyes of all men. The people of whom almost nothing before could certainly be asserted but its existence was finally of its own free will to throw aside the veil, to come forth from its fastnesses, and imperiously to bring to its feet the kingdoms of the world. It is not all Arabia of which I speak. The story to tell has nothing as yet to say to the 'happy' tilled lands of the south, nor to the outlying princedoms of El-Heereh and Ghassán bordering the territories and admitting the suzerainty of Persia and Rome. These lands were not wrapped in mystery: the Himyerite's kingdom in the Yemen, the rule of Zenobia at Palmyra, were familiar to the nations around. But the cradle of Islám was not here. Along the eastern coast of the Red Sea, sometimes thrusting its spurs of red sandstone and porphyry into the waves, sometimes drawing away and leaving a wide stretch of lowland, runs a rugged range of mountain. One above another, the hills rise from the coast, leaving here and there between them a green valley, where you may see an Arab settlement or a group of Bedawees watering their flocks. Rivers there are none; and the streams that gather from the rainfall are scarcely formed but they sink into the parched earth. Yet beneath the dried-up torrent-beds a rivulet trickles at times, and straightway there spreads a rich oasis dearly prized by the wanderers of the desert. All else is bare and desolate. Climb hill after hill, and the same sight meets the eye-barren mountain-side, dry gravelly plain, and the rare green valleys. At length you have reached the topmost ridge; and you see, not a steep descent, no expected return to the plain, but a vast desert plateau, blank, inhospitable, to all but Arabs unindwellable. You have climbed the Hijáz-the 'barrier' -and are come to the steppes of the Nejd-the 'highland.' In the valleys of this barrier-land are the Holy Cities, Mekka and Medina. Here is the birthplace of Islám: the Arab tribes of the Hijáz and the Nejd were the first disciples of Moḥammad. One may tell much of a people's character from its home. Truism as it seems, there is yet a meaning in the For the Arab had his ideal of life. The true son of the desert must in the old times do more than stretch his limbs contentedly under the shade of the overhanging rock. He must be brave and chivalrous, generous, hospitable; ready to sacrifice himself and his substance for his clan; prompt to help the needy and the traveller; true to his word, and, not least, eloquent in his speech. Devotion to the clan was the strongest tie the Arab possessed. Though tracing their descent from a common traditional ancestor, the great northern family of Bedawees was split up into numerous clans, owning no central authority, but led, scarcely governed, each by its own chief, who was the most valiant and best-born man in it. The whole clan acted as one being; an injury done to one member was revenged by all, and even a crime committed by a clansman was upheld by the whole brotherhood. Though a small spark would easily light-up war between even friendly clans, it was rarely that those of kin met as enemies. It is told how a clan suffered long and oft-repeated injuries from a kindred clan without one deed of revenge. They are our brothers,' they said; 'perhaps they will return to better feelings; perhaps we shall see them again as they once were.' To be brought to poverty or even to die for the clan, the Arab deemed his duty-his privilege. To add by his prowess or his hospitality or his eloquence to the glory of the clan was his ambition. 1 A mountain 1 we have where dwells he whom we shelter there, though that be the deeming thereof of Salool and 'Ámir; but their dooms shrink from death and stand far distant. There dies among us no lord a quiet death in his bed, and never is blood of us poured forth without vengeance. 1 i.e., the glory of the clan. |