biography of Mohammed, have been wrought into the history, while no means are
afforded to the reader for discerning the real from the fictitious events; nor
amongst the latter, for discriminating which originated with Mohammed himself,
and which were long afterwards without grounds ascribed to him. The beautiful
portrait of Mohammed, placed at its commencement, is a fit emblem of the whole
work. The countenance beams with intelligence, struggling between sensuousness
and lofty resolve; while in the background is the Kaaba, with its sombre
hangings; and a crowd of followers are seen flourishing their scimitars and
daggers with angry gesture at each other. A charming picture! But not that of
the real Mohammed in his Arab garb; for here he is sumptuously arrayed in an
ermine-bound robe; in one hand he holds an open volume, and the other is
stretched aloft, to enforce his earnest address. Now Mohammed never preached
from any book; the Coran was, in fact, not even collected during his lifetime,
but remained recorded in scattered shreds. So much for the delightful but
fancy sketches of Washington Irving: pleasant, perhaps profitable, for the
English reader, but in no wise suited for Mohammedan lands.
