and descended, according to eastern historians, in a direct line from
Ishmael. His person is represented as beautiful, his manners engaging,
and his eloquence powerful; but he was illiterate, like the rest of his
countrymen, and indebted to a Jewish or Christian scribe for penning his
Koran. Whatever the views of Mohammed might have been in the earlier
part of his life, it was not till the fortieth year of his age that he
avowed his mission as the Apostle of God: when so little credit did he
gain for his pretensions, that in the first three years he could only
number fourteen converts; and even at the end of ten years his labours
and his friends were alike confined within the walls of Mecca, when the
designs of his enemies compelled him to fly to Medina, where he was
favourably received by a party of the most considerable inhabitants, who
had recently imbibed his doctrines at Mecca. This flight, or _Hegira_,
was made the Mohammedan æra, from which time is computed, and
corresponds with the 16th of July, 622, of the Christian æra. Mohammed
now found himself sufficiently powerful to throw aside all reserve;
declared that he was commanded to compel unbelievers by the sword to
receive the faith of one God, and his prophet Mohammed; and confirming
his credulous followers by the threats of eternal pain on the one hand,
and the allurements of a sensual paradise on the other, he had, before
his death, which happened in the year 632, gained over the whole of
Arabia to his imposture. His death threw a temporary gloom over his
cause, and the disunion of his followers threatened its extinction. Any
other empire placed in the same circumstances would have crumbled to
pieces; but the Arabs felt their power; they revered their founder as
the chosen prophet of God; and their ardent temperament, animated by a
religious enthusiasm, gave an earnest of future success, and encouraged
the zeal or the ambition of their leaders. The succession, after some
bloodshed, was settled, and unnumbered hordes of barbarians were ready
to carry into execution the sanguinary dictates of their prophet; and,
with “the Koran, tribute, or death,” as their motto, to invade the
countries of the infidels. During the whole of the succeeding century,
their rapid career was unchecked; the disciplined armies of the Greeks
and Romans were unable to stand against them; the Christian churches of
Asia and Africa were annihilated; and from India to the Atlantic,
through Persia, Arabia, Syria, Palestine, Asia Minor, Egypt, with the
whole of northern Africa, Spain, and part of France, the impostor was
acknowledged. Constantinople was besieged; Rome itself was plundered;
and nothing less than the subjection of the whole Christian world was
meditated on the one hand and tremblingly expected on the other.
All this was wonderful; but the avenging justice of an incensed Deity,
and the sure word of prophecy, relieve our astonishment. It was to
punish an apostate race, that the Saracen locusts were let loose upon
the earth; and the countries which they were permitted to ravage were
those in which the pure light of revelation had been most abused. The
eastern church was sunk in gross idolatry; vice and wickedness prevailed
in their worst forms; and those who still called themselves Christians
trusted more to images, relics, altars, austerities, and pilgrimages,
than to a crucified Saviour.
About a hundred and eighty years from the foundation of Bagdad, during
which period the power of the Saracens had gradually declined, a
dreadful reaction took place in the conquered countries. The Persians on
the east, and the Greeks on the west, were simultaneously roused from
their long thraldom, and, assisted by the Turks, who, issuing from the
plains of Tartary, now for the first time made their appearance in the
east, extinguished the power of the caliphate, and virtually put an end
to the Arabian monarchy in the year 936. A succession of nominal caliphs
continued to the year 1258: but the provinces were lost; their power was
confined to the walls of their capital; and they were in real subjection
to the Turks and the Persians until the above year, when Mostacem, the
last of the Abbassides, was dethroned and murdered by Holagou, or
Hulaku, the Tartar, the grandson of Zingis. This event, although it
terminated the foreign dominion of the Arabians, left their native
independence untouched. They were no longer, indeed, the masters of the
finest parts of the three great divisions of the ancient world: their
work was finished; and returning to the state in which Mohammed found
them three centuries before, with the exception of the change in their
religion, they remained, and still remain, the unconquered rovers of the
desert.
It is not the least singular circumstance in the history of this
extraordinary people, that those who, in the enthusiasm of their first
successes, were the sworn foes of literature, should become for several
ages its exclusive patrons. Almansor, the founder of Bagdad, has the
merit of first exciting this spirit, which was encouraged in a still
greater degree by his grandson Almamon. This caliph employed his agents
in Armenia, Syria, Egypt, and at Constantinople, in collecting the most
celebrated works on Grecian science, and had them translated into the
Arabic language. Philosophy, astronomy, geometry, and medicine, were
thus introduced and taught; public schools were established; and
learning, which had altogether fled from Europe, found an asylum on the
banks of the Tigris. Nor was this spirit confined to the capital: native
works began to appear; and by the hands of copyists were multiplied out
of number, for the information of the studious, or the pride of the
wealthy. The rage for literature extended to Egypt and to Spain. In the
former country, the Fatimites collected a library of a hundred thousand
manuscripts, beautifully transcribed, and very elegantly bound; and in
the latter, the Ommiades formed another of six hundred thousand volumes;
forty-four of which were employed in the catalogue. Their capital,
Cordova, with the towns of Malaga, Almeria, and Murcia, produced three
hundred writers; and seventy public libraries were established in the
cities of Andalusia. What a change since the days of Omar, when the
splendid library of the Ptolemies was wantonly destroyed by the same
people! A retribution, though a slight one, was thus made for their
former devastations; and many Grecian works, lost in the original, have
been recovered in their Arabic dress. Neither was this learning confined
to mere parade, though much of it must undoubtedly have been so. Their
proficiency in astronomy and geometry is attested by their astronomical
tables, and by the accuracy with which, in the plain of Chaldea, a
degree of the great circle of the earth was measured. But it was in
medicine that, in this dark age, the Arabians shone most: the works of
Hippocrates and Galen had been translated and commented on; their
physicians were sought after by the princes of Asia and Europe; and the
names of Rhazis, Albucasis, and Avicenna are still revered by the
members of the healing art. So little, indeed, did the physicians of
Europe in that age know of the history of their own science, that they
were astonished, on the revival of learning, to find in the ancient
Greek authors those systems for which they thought themselves indebted
to the Arabians!
The last remnant of Arabian science was found in Spain; from whence it
was expelled in the beginning of the seventeenth century, by the
intemperate bigots of that country, who have never had any thing of
their own with which to supply its place. The Arabians are the only
people who have preserved their descent, their independence, their
language, and their manners and customs, from the earliest ages to the
present times; and it is among them that we are to look for examples of
patriarchal life and manners. A very lively sketch of this mode of life
is given by Sir R. K. Porter, in the person and tribe of an Arab sheik,
whom he encountered in the neighbourhood of the Euphrates. “I had met
this warrior,” says Sir R. K. P., “at the house of the British resident
at Bagdad; and came, according to his repeated wish, to see him in a
place more consonant with his habits, the tented field; and, as he
expressed it, ‘at the head of his children.’ As soon as we arrived in
sight of his camp, we were met by crowds of its inhabitants, who, with a
wild and hurrying delight, led us toward the tent of their chief. The
venerable old man came forth to the door, attended by his subjects of
all sizes and descriptions, and greeted us with a countenance beaming
kindness; while his words, which our interpreter explained, were
demonstrative of patriarchal welcome. One of my Hindoo troopers spoke
Arabic; hence the substance of our succeeding discourse was not lost on
each other. Having entered, I sat down by my host; and the whole of the
persons present, to far beyond the boundaries of the tent, (the sides of
which were open,) seated themselves also, without any regard to those
more civilized ceremonies of subjection, the crouching of slaves, or the
standing of vassalage. These persons, in rows beyond rows, appeared just
as he had described, the offspring of his house, the descendants of his
fathers, from age to age; and like brethren, whether holding the highest
or the lowest rank, they seemed to gather round their common parent. But
perhaps their sense of perfect equality in the mind of their chief could
not be more forcibly shown, than in the share they took in the objects
which appeared to interest his feelings; and as I looked from the elders
or leaders of the people, seated immediately around him, to the circles
beyond circles of brilliant faces, bending eagerly toward him and his
guest, (all, from the most respectably clad to those with hardly a
garment covering their active limbs, earnest to evince some attention to
the stranger he bade welcome,) I thought I had never before seen so
complete an assemblage of fine and animated countenances, both old and
young: nor could I suppose a better specimen of the still existing state
of the true Arab; nor a more lively picture of the scene which must have
presented itself, ages ago, in the fields of Haran, when Terah sat in
his tent door, surrounded by his sons, and his sons’ sons, and the
people born in his house. The venerable Arabian sheik was also seated on
the ground with a piece of carpet spread under him; and, like his
ancient Chaldean ancestor, turned to the one side and the other,
graciously answering or questioning the groups around him, with an
interest in them all which clearly showed the abiding simplicity of his
government, and their obedience. On the smallest computation, such must
have been the manners of these people for more than three thousand
years; thus, in all things, verifying the prediction given of Ishmael at
his birth, that he, in his posterity, should ‘be a wild man,’ and always
continue to be so, though ‘he shall dwell for ever in the presence of
his brethren.’ And that an acute and active people, surrounded for ages
by polished and luxurious nations, should from their earliest to their
latest times, be still found _a wild people, dwelling in the presence of
all their brethren_, (as we may call these nations,) unsubdued and
unchangeable, is, indeed, a standing miracle: one of those mysterious
facts which establish the truth of prophecy.” But although the manners
of the Arabians have remained unaltered through so many ages, and will
probably so continue, their religion, as we have seen, has sustained an
important change; and must again, in the fulness of time, give place to
a faith more worthy of the people.
St. Paul first preached the Gospel in Arabia, Gal. i, 17. Christian
churches were subsequently founded, and many of their tribes embraced
Christianity prior to the fifth century; most of which appear to have
been tinctured with the Nestorian heresy. At this time, however, it does
not appear that the Arabians had any version of the Scriptures in their
own language, to which some writers attribute the ease with which they
were drawn into the Mohammedan delusion; while the “Greeks, Syrians,
Armenians, Abyssinians, Copts, and others,” who enjoyed that privilege,
were able to resist it.
ARAM, the fifth son of Shem, Gen. x, 22. He was the father of the
Syrians, who from him were called Aramæans, or Aramites.
ARARAT, a mountain of Asia, in Armenia, on which the ark of Noah rested
after the cessation of the deluge. Concerning the etymology of the name,
Dr. Bryant observes, that it is a compound of _Ar-Arat_, and signifies
“the mountain of descent,” being equivalent to הר־ירר, of the Hebrews.
Of the precise situation of this mountain, different accounts have been
given. Some have supposed that it was one of the mountains which divide
Armenia on the south from Mesopotamia, and that part of Assyria
inhabited by the Curds, from whom those mountains took the name of
Curdue, or Cardu; by the Greeks denominated _Gordyæi_. It is called by
the Arabs _Al-Judi_, and also _Thamanin_. In confirmation of this
opinion, it is alleged that the remains of the ark were to be seen on
these mountains; and it is said, that Berosus and Abydenus both declare,
that such a report existed in their time. Epiphanius pretends, if we may
credit his assertion, that the relics of the ark were to be seen in his
day; and we are farther told, that the emperor Heraclius went from the
town of Thamanin, up the mountain Al-Judi, and saw the place of the ark.
Others maintain, that mount Ararat was situated toward the middle of
Armenia, near the river Araxes, or Aras, about twelve miles from it,
according to Tournefort, above two hundred and eighty miles distant from
Al-Judi, to the north-east. Ararat seems to be a part of that vast chain
of mountains called Caucasus and Taurus; and upon these mountains, and
in the adjacent country, were preserved more authentic accounts of the
ark than in almost any other part of the world. The region about Ararat,
called Araratia, was esteemed among the ancients as nearly a central
part of the earth; and it is certainly as well calculated as any other
for the accommodation of its first inhabitants, and for the migration of
colonies, upon the increase of mankind. The soil of the country was very
fruitful, and especially of that part where the patriarch made his first
descent. The country also was very high, though it had fine plains and
valleys between the mountains. Such a country, therefore, must, after
the flood, have been the soonest exsiccated, and, consequently, the
soonest habitable.
The mountain which has still the name of Ararat, has retained it through
all ages. Tournefort has particularly described it, and from his account
it seems to consist chiefly of freestone, or calcareous sandstone. It is
a detached mountain in form of a sugar loaf, in the midst of a very
extensive plain, consisting of two summits; the lesser, more sharp and
pointed; the higher, which is that of the ark, lies north-west of it,
and raises its head far above the neighbouring mountains, and is covered
with perpetual snow. When the air is clear, it does not appear to be
above two leagues from Erivan, and may be seen at the distance of four
or five days’ journey. Its being visible at such a distance, however, is
ascribed not so much to its height, as to its lonely situation, in a
large plain, and upon the most elevated part of the country. The ascent
is difficult and fatiguing. Tournefort attempted it; and, after a whole
day’s toil, he was obliged, by the snow and intense cold, to return
without accomplishing his design, though in the middle of summer. On the
side of the mountain that looks toward Erivan, is a prodigious
precipice, very deep, with perpendicular sides, and of a rough, black
appearance, as if tinged with smoke.
The summit of Ararat has never been reached, though several attempts
have been made; and if the ark rested on the summit, it is certain that
those who have spoken of its fragments being seen there in different
ages, must have been imposed upon. It is, however, not necessary to
suppose that the ark rested upon either of its tops; and that spot would
certainly be chosen which would afford the greatest facility of descent.
Sir Robert Ker Porter is among the modern travellers who have given us
an account of this celebrated mountain:--“As the vale opened beneath us
in our descent, my whole attention became absorbed in the view before
me. A vast plain, peopled with countless villages; the towers and spires
of the churches of Eitch-mai-adzen, arising from amidst them; the
glittering waters of the Araxes, flowing through the fresh green of the
vale; and the subordinate range of mountains, skirting the base of the
awful monument of the antediluvian world. It seemed to stand a
stupendous link in the history of man, uniting the two races of men
before and after the flood. But it was not until we had arrived upon the
flat plain, that I beheld Ararat in all its amplitude of grandeur. From
the spot on which I stood, it appeared as if the hugest mountains of the
world had been piled upon each other, to form this one sublime immensity
of earth, and rock, and snow. The icy peaks of its double heads rose
majestically into the clear and cloudless heavens; the sun blazed bright
upon them; and the reflection sent forth a dazzling radiance, equal to
other suns. This point of the view united the utmost grandeur of plain
and height. But the feelings I experienced while looking on the
mountain, are hardly to be described. My eye, not able to rest for any
length of time upon the blinding glory of its summits, wandered down the
apparently interminable sides, till I could no longer trace their vast
lines in the mists of the horizon; when an inexpressible impulse,
immediately carrying my eye upward again, refixed my gaze upon the awful
glare of Ararat; and this bewildered sensibility of sight being answered
by a similar feeling in the mind, for some moments I was lost in a
strange suspension of the powers of thought.”
The separate peaks are called Great and Little Ararat, and the space
between them is about seven miles. “These inaccessible summits,”
continues Sir R. K. Porter, “have never been trodden by the foot of man
since the days of Noah, if even then; for my idea is, that the ark
rested in the space between these heads, and not on the top of either.
Various attempts have been made in different ages to ascend these
tremendous mountain-pyramids, but in vain: their form, snows, and
glaciers, are insurmountable obstacles: the distance being so great from
the commencement of the icy region to the highest points, cold alone
would be the destruction of any person who should have the hardihood to
persevere. On viewing mount Ararat from the northern side of the plain,
its two heads are separated by a wide cleft, or rather glen, in the body
of the mountain. The rocky side of the greater head runs almost
perpendicularly down to the north-east, while the lesser head rises from
the sloping bottom of the cleft, in a perfectly conical shape. Both
heads are covered with snow. The form of the greater is similar to the
less, only broader and rounder at the top; and shows to the north-west a
broken and abrupt front, opening, about half way down, into a stupendous
chasm, deep, rocky, and peculiarly black. At that part of the mountain,
the hollow of the chasm receives an interruption from the projection of
minor mountains, which start from the sides of Ararat like branches from
the root of a tree, and run along, in undulating progression, till lost
in the distant vapours of the plain.” Dr. Shuckford argues that the true
Ararat lies among the mountains of the north of India; but Mr. Faber has
answered his reasoning, and proved by a comparison of geographical
notices incidentally mentioned in the Old Testament, that the Ararat of
Armenia is the true Ararat.
ARCHANGEL, according to some, means an angel occupying the eighth rank
in the celestial order or hierarchy; but others reckon it a title only
applicable to our Saviour; Jude 9; Dan. xii, 1; 1 Thess. iv, 16. On this
point Bishop Horsley has the following observations:--“It has been for a
long time a fashion in the church to speak very frequently and
familiarly of archangels as beings of an order with which we are
perfectly well acquainted. Some say there are seven of them. Upon what
solid ground that assertion stands, I know not; but this I know, the
word ‘archangel’ is not to be found in any one passage of the Old
Testament: in the New Testament it occurs twice, and only twice. One of
the two passages is in the First Epistle to the Thessalonians; where the
Apostle, among the circumstances of the pomp of our Lord’s descent from
heaven to the final judgment, mentions ‘the voice of the archangel;’ the
other passage is in the Epistle of St. Jude, where the title of
archangel is coupled with the name of ‘Michael the archangel.’ This
passage is so remarkably obscure that I shall not attempt to draw any
conclusion from it but this, which manifestly follows, be the particular
sense of the passage what it may: since this is one of the two texts in
which alone the word ‘archangel’ is found in the whole Bible; since in
this one text only the title of archangel is coupled with any name; and
since the name with which it is here coupled is Michael; it follows
undeniably that the archangel Michael is the only archangel of whom we
know any thing from holy writ. It cannot be proved from holy writ, and,
if not from holy writ, it cannot be proved at all, that any archangel
exists but the one archangel Michael, and this one archangel Michael is
unquestionably the Michael of the book of Daniel.
“I must observe by the way, with respect to the import of the title of
archangel, that the word, by etymology, clearly implies a superiority of
rank and authority in the person to whom it is applied. It implies a
command over angels; and this is all that the word of necessity implies.
But it follows not, by any sound rule of argument, that, because no
other superiority than that of rank and authority is implied in the
title, no other belongs to the person distinguished by the title, and
that he is in all other respects a mere angel. Since we admit various
orders of intelligent beings, it is evident that a being highly above
the angelic order may command angels.
“To ascertain, if we can, to what order of beings the archangel Michael
may belong, let us see how he is described by the Prophet Daniel, who
never mentions him by that title; and what action is attributed to him
in the book of Daniel and in another book, in which he bears a principal
part.
“Now Daniel calls him ‘one of the chief princes,‘ or ‘one of the capital
princes,’ or ‘one of the princes that are at the head of all:’ for this
I maintain to be the full and not more than the full import of the
Hebrew words. Now we are clearly got above the earth, into the order of
celestials, who are the princes that are _first_, or _at the head of
all_? Are they any other than the three persons in the Godhead? Michael,
therefore, is one of them; but which of them? This is not left in doubt.
Gabriel, speaking of him to Daniel, calls him ‘Michael _your_ prince,’
and ‘the great prince which standeth for the children of thy people;‘
that is, not for the nation of the Jews in particular, but for the
children, the spiritual children, of that holy seed the elect people of
God; a description which applies particularly to the Son of God, and to
no one else; and in perfect consistence with this description of Michael
in the book of Daniel, is the action assigned to him in the Apocalypse,
in which we find him fighting with the old serpent, the deceiver of the
world, and victorious in the combat. That combat who was to maintain? in
that combat who was to be victorious, but the seed of the woman? From
all this it is evident, that Michael is a name for our Lord himself, in
his particular character of the champion of his faithful people, against
the violence of the apostate faction and the wiles of the devil.” To
this opinion there is nothing irreconcilable in the “voice of the
archangel” mentioned in 1 Thess. iv, 16: since the “shout,” the “voice,”
the “trump of God,” may all be the majestic summons of the Judge
himself. At the same time we must feel that the reasoning of Bishop
Horsley, though ingenious, is for from being conclusive against the
existence of one or more archangels.