"pure" as dead dry sand is pure. David's life and history, as written for
us in those Psalms of his, I consider to be the truest
emblem ever given of
a man's moral progress and
warfare here below. All
earnest souls will ever
discern in it the
faithful struggle of an
earnest human soul towards what
is good and best. Struggle often baffled, sore baffled, down as into
entire wreck; yet a struggle never ended; ever, with tears,
repentance,
true unconquerable purpose, begun anew. Poor human nature! Is not a man's
walking, in truth, always that: "a
succession of falls"? Man can do no
other. In this wild element of a Life, he has to struggle onwards; now
fallen, deep-abased; and ever, with tears,
repentance, with bleeding heart,
he has to rise again, struggle again still onwards. That his struggle _be_
a
faithful unconquerable one: that is the question of questions. We will
put up with many sad details, if the soul of it were true. Details by
themselves will never teach us what it is. I believe we misestimate
Mahomet's faults even as faults: but the secret of him will never be got
by
dwelling there. We will leave all this behind us; and assuring
ourselves that he did mean some true thing, ask candidly what it was or
might be.
These Arabs Mahomet was born among are certainly a
notable people. Their
country itself is
notable; the fit
habitation for such a race. Savage
inaccessible rock-mountains, great grim deserts, alternating with beautiful
strips of verdure:
wherever water is, there is greenness, beauty;
odoriferous balm-shrubs, date-trees, frankincense-trees. Consider that
wide waste
horizon of sand, empty, silent, like a sand-sea, dividing
habitable place from habitable. You are all alone there, left alone with
the Universe; by day a
fierce sun blazing down on it with intolerable
radiance; by night the great deep Heaven with its stars. Such a country is
fit for a swift-handed, deep-hearted race of men. There is something most
agile, active, and yet most meditative,
enthusiastic in the Arab character.
The Persians are called the French of the East; we will call the Arabs
Oriental Italians. A
gifted noble people; a people of wild strong
feelings, and of iron
restraint over these: the
characteristic of
noble-mindedness, of
genius. The wild Bedouin
welcomes the stranger to his
tent, as one having right to all that is there; were it his worst enemy, he
will slay his foal to treat him, will serve him with
sacredhospitality for
three days, will set him fairly on his way;--and then, by another law as
sacred, kill him if he can. In words too as in action. They are not a
loquacious people, taciturn rather; but
eloquent,
gifted when they do
speak. An
earnest,
truthful kind of men. They are, as we know, of Jewish
kindred: but with that
deadly terrible
earnestness of the Jews they seem
to
combine something
graceful,
brilliant, which is not Jewish. They had
"Poetic contests" among them before the time of Mahomet. Sale says, at
Ocadh, in the South of Arabia, there were
yearly fairs, and there, when the
merchandising was done, Poets sang for prizes:--the wild people gathered to
hear that.
One Jewish quality these Arabs
manifest; the
outcome of many or of all high
qualities: what we may call religiosity. From of old they had been
zealous
worshippers, according to their light. They
worshipped the stars,
as Sabeans;
worshipped many natural objects,--recognized them as symbols,
immediate
manifestations, of the Maker of Nature. It was wrong; and yet
not
wholly wrong. All God's works are still in a sense symbols of God. Do
we not, as I urged, still
account it a merit to recognize a certain
inexhaustible
significance, "poetic beauty" as we name it, in all natural
objects
whatsoever? A man is a poet, and honored, for doing that, and
speaking or singing it,--a kind of diluted
worship. They had many
Prophets, these Arabs; Teachers each to his tribe, each according to the
light he had. But indeed, have we not from of old the noblest of proofs,
still palpable to every one of us, of what devoutness and noble-mindedness
had dwelt in these
rusticthoughtful peoples? Biblical critics seem agreed
that our own _Book of Job_ was written in that region of the world. I call
that, apart from all theories about it, one of the grandest things ever
written with pen. One feels, indeed, as if it were not Hebrew; such a
noble universality, different from noble patriotism or sectarianism, reigns
in it. A noble Book; all men's Book! It is our first, oldest statement of
the never-ending Problem,--man's
destiny, and God's ways with him here in