h stand ready, they turn their steps to the
old Church of the Divine Wisdom, which still retains its Greek name.
Round the minarets thousands of lamps are lighted, and between the
towers the sacred names hang in flaming lights. Inside the mosque, on
chains fifty feet long, hang chandeliers, full of innumerable oil-lamps
in small round glass bowls, and on extended lines hang other lamps as
close as the beads of a rosary. The floor of the mosque is a sea of
light, but the interior of the dome is hid in gloom. Huge green shields
affixed to the columns bear in golden letters the names of Allah,
Mohammed and the saints, and the characters are thirty feet high.

The faithful have already filled the floor, which is covered with straw
matting. Shoes must be left outside on entering the mosque, and a man
must wash his arms, hands, and face before he goes in. Now the Turks
stand in long rows, white and green turbans and red fezes with black
tassels all mixed together. All turn their faces towards Mecca. All
hands go up together to the height of the face and are stretched out
flat, the thumbs touching the tip of the ear. Then they bend the body
forward, resting their hands on their knees. Next they fall on their
knees and touch the floor with their foreheads. "Prayer is the key to
Paradise," says the Koran, and every section of the prayer requires a
certain posture.

A priest stands in a pulpit and breaks in on the solemn silence with his
clear musical voice. The last word dies away on his lips, but the echo
lingers long in the dome, hovering like a restless spirit among the
statues of the cherubim.

Among us at home there are people who are ashamed of going to church. A
Mohammedan may neglect his religious duties, but he always regards it as
an honour to fulfil them. When we come to Persia or Turkestan we shall
often see a caravan leader leave his camels in the middle of the march,
spread out his prayer-mat on the ground, and recite his prayers. They do
not do it thoughtlessly or slovenly: you might yell in the ear of a
Mohammedan at prayer and he would take no notice.

"There is no god but God!" The words sound like a trumpet-blast, as a
summons over boundless regions of the Old World. From its cradle in
Arabia, Islam has spread over all the west and centre of Asia, over the
southern parts of the continent, over certain regions in south-eastern
Europe, and over half Africa. It is no wonder that Mohammedan
missionaries find i