Antislavery movements -- United States; Slavery -- United States
The christian curiosities of this oldest of inhabited cities, begin
with the mosque of peculiar sanctity, once the site of St. John’s
Cathedral, whose chamber of relics, containing a pretended head of the
Baptist, is inaccessible even to Mussulmen, the priesthood excepted.
Six huge Corinthian columns, once a part of its proud portico, are
built into houses and stores, so that you get but faint glimpses
of their beauty and size until you mount the flat mud-roof of the
modern buildings and look down into the vast area of the temple,
six hundred and fifty-feet by one hundred and fifty; and there find
towering above you these massive, blackened remains of Christian
architecture,--significant emblems of the triumph of the Crescent over
the Cross,--and yet by their imperishableness a promise of renewed
glory in some brighter future. That Islamism is hastening to decay is
shown impressively enough in the grand dervish mosque and khan, once
quite celebrated as the Syrian enthronement of this advanced guard
of Mohammed; now nothing could seem more deserted, one minaret is
threatening to fall, the spacious garden is all weed-grown, and few
are left to mourn over the reverse: these banner-men of the prophet,
no longer warriors, students, and apostles, do but beg their bread
and drone their prayers, and exchange the reputation of fanatics
for that of hypocrites; they are in fact monks of the mosque, like
their brothers in celibacy, changing sadly enough from enthusiasm to
formality, from the fervor of first love to the grave-like chillness of
an exhausted ritual.
St. Paul is of course the great name at Damascus; and your dragoman
is very certain always as to the place where he was lowered down the
city-wall; then he takes you to the tomb of the soldier who befriended
him, close at hand, and to the little underground chapel where the
Apostle’s sight was restored. But having passed in turn under the
sceptre of Assyrian, Babylonian, Persian, Jew, Roman, Arabian, Turk,
every stone of these buildings could tell a most interesting tale, and
every timber of the wall could answer with an experience corresponding
to the out-door revolution.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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