The Blind Mother, and The Last Confession — John Shaqi
The Blind Mother, and The Last ConfessionCaine, Hall, Sir
General
The Blind Mother, and The Last Confession
Caine, Hall, Sir
Fiction
I stayed ten days longer in Tangier, absorbed in many reflections, of
which the strangest were these two: first, the Moors were the most
religious people in the world, and next, that they were the most
wickedly irreligious and basely immoral race on God's earth. I was
prompted to the one by observations of the large part which Allah
appears to play in all affairs of Moorish life, and to the other by
clear proof of the much larger part which the devil enacts in Allah's
garments. On the one side prayers, prayers, prayers, the moodden, the
moodden, the moodden, the mosque, the mosque, the mosque. "Allah" from
the mouths of the beggars, "Allah" from the lips of the merchants,
"Mohammed" on the inscriptions at the gate, the "Koran" on the scarfs
hung out at the bazaars and on the satchels hawked in the streets. And
on the other side shameless lying, cheating, usury, buying and selling
of justice, cruelty and inhumanity; raw sores on the backs of the asses,
blood in the streets, blood, blood, blood everywhere and secret
corruption indescribable.
Nevertheless I concluded that my nervous malady must have given me the
dark glasses through which everything looked so foul, and I resolved, in
the interests of health, to push on toward Fez as soon as letters
arrived from home assuring me that all were well and happy there.
But no letters came, and at the arrival of every fresh mail from Cadiz
and from Gibraltar my impatience increased. At length I decided to wait
no longer, and, leaving instructions that my letters should be sent on
after me to the capital, I called on the English Consul for such
official documents as were needful for my journey.
When these had been produced from the Kasbah, and I was equipped for
travel, the Consul inquired of me how I liked the Moors and their
country. I described my conflicting impressions, and he said both were
right in their several ways.
"The religion of the Moor," said he, "is genuine of its kind, though it
does not put an end to the vilest Government on earth and the most
loathsome immoralities ever practised by man. Islam is a sacred thing to
him. He is proud of it, jealous of it, and prepared to die for it. Half
his hatred of the unbeliever is fear that the Nazarene or the Jew is
eager to show his faith some dishonor. And that," added the Consul,
"reminds me to offer you one word of warning: avoid the very shadow of
offense to the religion of these people; do not pry into their beliefs;
do not take note of their ordinances; pass their mosques and saints'
houses with down-cast eyes, if need be; in a word, let Islam alone."
I thanked him for his counsel, and, remembering the American, I inquired
what the penalty would be if a foreign subject offended the religion of
this people. The Consul lifted his eyebrows and shoulders together, with
an eloquence of reply that required no words.
"But might not a stranger," I asked, "do so unwittingly?"
"Truly," he answered, "and so much the worse for his ignorance."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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