ability infinitely superior to that of the original Muslims and able
to attract the best elements of the Arab nationality to their
teaching. It was as impossible for these apostate Christians to
abandon their old habits of thought as it was hopeless to expect any
sudden change in the economic conditions under which they lived.
Christian theories of God and the world naturally assumed a Muhammedan
colouring and thus the great process of accommodating Christianity to
Muhammedanism was achieved. The Christian contribution to this end was
made partly directly and partly by teaching, and in the intellectual
as well as in the economic sphere the ultimate ideal was inevitably
dictated by the superior culture of Christianity. The Muhammedans were
thus obliged to accept Christian hypotheses on theological points and
the fundaments of Christian and Muhammedan culture thus become
identical.

I use the term hypotheses, for the reason that the final determination
of the points at issue was by no means identical, wherever the Qoran
definitely contradicted Christian views of morality or social laws.
But in these cases also, Christian ideas were able to impose
themselves upon tradition and to issue in practice, even when opposed
by the actual text of the Qoran. They did not always pass unquestioned
and even on trivial points were obliged to encounter some resistance.
The theory of the Sunday was accepted, but that day was not chosen and
Friday was preferred: meetings for worship were held in imitation of
Christian practice, but attempts to sanctify the day and to proclaim
it a day of rest were forbidden: except for the performance of divine
service, Friday was an ordinary week-day. When, however, the Qoran was
in any sort of harmony with Christianity, the Christian ideas of the
age were textually accepted in any further development of the
question. The fact is obvious, not only as regards details, but also
in the general theory of man's position upon earth.

*       *       *       *       *

Muhammed, the preacher of repentance, had become a temporal prince in
Medina; his civil and political administration was ecclesiastical in
character, an inevitable result of his position as the apostle of God,
whose congregation was at the same time a state. This theory of the
state led later theorists unconsciously to follow the lead of
Christianity, which regarded the church as supreme in every department
of life, and so induced Muhammedanism to adopt views of life and
social order which are now styled mediaeval. The theological
development of this system is to be attributed chiefly to groups of
pious thinkers in Medina: they were excluded from political life when
the capital was transferred from Medina to Damascus and were left in
peace to elaborate their theory of the Muhammedan divine polity. The
influence of these groups was paramount: but of almost equal
importance was the influence of the proselytes in the conquered lands
who were Christians for the most part and for that reason far above
their Arab contemporaries in respect of intellectual training and
culture. We find that the details of jurisprudence, dogma, and
mysticism can only be explained by reference to Christian stimulus,
nor is it any exaggeration to ascribe the further development of
Muhammed's views to the influence of thinkers who regarded the
religious polity of Islam as the realisation of an ideal which
Christianity had hitherto vainly striven to attain. This ideal was the
supremacy of religion over life and all its activities, over the state
and the individual alike. But it was a religion primarily concerned
with the next world, where alone real worth was to be found. Earthly
life was a pilgrimage to be performed and earthly intentions had no
place with heavenly. The joy of life which the ancient world had
known, art, music and culture, all were rejected or valued only as
aids to religion. Human action was judged with reference only to its
appraisement in the life to come. That ascetic spirit was paramount,
which had enchained the Christian world, that renunciation of secular
affairs which explains the peculiar methods by which mediaeval views
of life found expression.

Asceticism did not disturb the course of life as a whole. It might
condemn but it could not suppress the natural impulse of man to
propagate his race: it might hamper economic forces, but it could not
destroy them. It eventually led to a compromise in every department of
life, but for centuries it retained its domination over men's minds
and to some material extent over their actions.

Such was the environment in which Islam was planted: its deepest roots
had been fertilised with Christian theory, and in spite of Muhammed's
call to repentance, its most characteristic manifestations were
somewhat worldly and non-ascetic. "Islam knows not monasticism" says
the tradition which this tendency produced. The most important
compromise of all, that with life, which Christianity only secured by
gradual steps, had been already attained for Islam by Muhammed himself
and was included in the course of his development. As Islam now
entered the Christian world, it was forced to pass through this
process of development once more. At the outset it was permeated with
the idea of Christian asceticism, to which an inevitable opposition
arose, and found expression in such statements as that already quoted.
But Muhammed's preaching had obviously striven to honour the future
life by painting the actual world in the gloomiest colours, and the
material optimism of the secular-minded was unable to check the
advance of Christian asceticism among the classes which felt a real
interest in religion. Hence that surprising similarity of views upon
the problem of existence, which we have now to outline. In details of
outward form great divergency is apparent. Christianity possessed a
clergy while Islam did not: yet the force of Christian influence
produced a priestly class in Islam. It was a class acting not as
mediator between God and man through sacraments and mysteries, but as
moral leaders and legal experts; as such it was no less important than
the scribes under Judaism. Unanimity among these scholars could
produce decisions no less binding than those of the Christian clergy
assembled in church councils. They are representatives of the
congregation which "has no unanimity, for such would be an error."
Islam naturally preferred to adopt unanimous conclusions in silence
rather than to vote in assemblies. As a matter of fact a body of
orthodox opinion was developed by this means with no less success than
in Christendom. Any agreement which the quiet work of the scholars had
secured upon any question was ratified by God and was thus irrevocably
and eternally binding. For instance, the proclamation to the faithful
of new ideas upon the exposition of the Qoran or of tradition was
absolutely forbidden; the scholars, in other words the clergy, had
convinced themselves, by the fact of their unanimity upon the point,
that the customary and traditional mode of exposition was the one
pleasing to God. Ideas of this kind naturally remind us of Roman
Catholic practice. The influence of Eastern Christianity upon Islam is
undoubtedly visible here. This influence could not in the face of
Muhammedan tradition and custom, create an organised clergy, but it
produced a clerical class to guard religious thought, and as religion
spread, to supervise thought of every kind.

Christianity again condemned marriage, though it eventually agreed to
a compromise sanctifying this tie; Islam, on the contrary, found in
the Qoran the text "Ye that are unmarried shall marry" (24, 32). In
the face of so clear a statement, the condemnation of marriage, which
in any case was contrary to the whole spirit of the Qoran, could not
be maintained. Thus the Muhammedan tradition contains numerous sayings
in support of marriage. "A childless house contains no blessing": "the
breath of a son is as the breath of Paradise"; "when a man looks upon
his wife (in love) and she upon him, God looks down in mercy upon them
both." "Two prayers of a married man are more precious in the sight of
God than seventy of a bachelor." With many similar variations upon the
theme, Muhammed is said to have urged marriage upon his followers. On
the other hand an almost equally numerous body of warnings against
marriage exists, also issued by Muhammed. I know no instance of direct
prohibition, but serious admonitions are found which usually take the
form of denunciation of the female sex and were early interpreted as
warnings by tradition. "Fear the world and women": "thy worst enemies
are the wife at thy side and thy concubine": "the least in Paradise
are the women": "women are the faggots of hell"; "pious women are rare
as ravens with white or red legs and white beaks"; "but for women men
might enter Paradise." Here we come upon a strain of thought
especially Christian. Muhammed regarded the satisfaction of the sexual
instincts as natural and right and made no attempt to put restraint
upon it: Christian asceticism regarded this impulse as the greatest
danger which could threaten the spiritual life of its adherents, and
the sentences above quoted may be regarded as the expression of this
view. Naturally the social position of the woman suffered in
consequence and is so much worse in the traditional Muhammedanism as
compared with the Qoran that the change can only be ascribed to the
influence of the civilisation which the Muhammedans encountered. The
idea of woman as a creature of no account is certainly rooted in the
ancient East, but it reached Islam in Christian dress and with the
authority of Christian hostility to marriage.

With this hostility to marriage are probably connected the regulations
concerning the covering of the body: in the ancient church only the
face, the hands and the feet were to be exposed to view, the object
being to prevent the suggestion of sinful thoughts: it is also likely
that objections to the ancient habit of leaving the body uncovered
found expression in this ordinance. Similar objections may be found in
Muhammedan tradition; we may regard these as further developments of
commands given in the Qoran, but it is also likely that Muhammed's
apocryphal statements upon the point were dictated by Christian
religious theory. They often appear in connection with warnings
against frequenting the public baths, which fact is strong evidence of
their Christian origin. "A bad house is the bath: much turmoil is
therein and men show their nakedness." "Fear that house that is called
the bathhouse and if any enter therein, let him veil himself." "He who
believes in God and the last Judgment, let him enter the bath only in
bathing dress." "Nakedness is forbidden to us." There is a story of
the prophet, to the effect that he was at work unclothed when a voice
from heaven ordered him to cover his nakedness!

*       *       *       *       *

We thus see, that an astonishing similarity is apparent in the
treatment even of questions where divergency is fundamental.
Divergency, it is true, existed, but pales before the general affinity
of the two theories of life. Our judgment upon Christian medievalism
in this respect can be applied directly and literally to
Muhammedanism. Either religion regards man as no more than a sojourner
in this world. It is not worth while to arrange for a permanent
habitation, and luxurious living is but pride. Hence the simplicity of
private dwellings in mediaeval times both in the East and West.
Architectural expense is confined to churches and mosques, which were
intended for the service of God. These Christian ideas are reflected
in the inexhaustible storehouse of Muhammedan theory, the great
collections of tradition, as follows. "The worst use which a believer
can make of his money is to build." "Every building, except a mosque,
will stand to the discredit of its architect on the day of
resurrection." These polemics which Islam inherited from Christianity
are directed not only against building in general, but also against
the erection and decoration of lofty edifices: "Should a man build a
house nine ells high, a voice will call to him from heaven, Whither
wilt thou rise, most profane of the profane?" "No prophet enters a
house adorned with fair decoration." With these prohibitions should be
connected the somewhat unintelligible fact that the most pious Caliphs
sat upon thrones (_mimbar_, "president's chair") of clay. The simplest
and most transitory material thus serves to form the symbol of
temporal power. A house is adorned not by outward show, but by the
fact that prayer is offered and the Qoran recited within its walls.
These theories were out of harmony with the worldly tendencies of the
conquerors, who built themselves castles, such as Qusair Amra: they
belong to the spirit of Christianity rather than to Islam.

Upon similar principles we may explain the demand for the utmost
simplicity and reserve in regard to the other enjoyments of life. To
eat whenever one may wish is excess and two meals a day are more than
enough. The portion set apart for one may also suffice for two. Ideas
of this kind are of constant recurrence in the Muhammedan traditions:
indispensable needs alone are to be satisfied, as indeed Thomas
Aquinas teaches. Similar observations apply to dress: "he who walks in
costly garments to be seen of men is not seen of the Lord." Gold and
silver ornaments, and garments of purple and silk are forbidden by
both religions. Princes live as simply as beggars and possess only one
garment, so that they are unable to appear in public when it is being
washed: they live upon a handful of dates and are careful to save
paper and artificial light. Such incidents are common in the oldest
records of the first Caliphs. These princes did not, of course, live
in such beggary, and the fact is correspondingly important that after
the lapse of one or two generations the Muhammedan historians should
describe their heroes as possessing only the typical garment of the
Christian saint. This one fact speaks volumes.

Every action was performed in God or with reference to God--an
oft-repeated idea in either religion. There is a continual hatred of
the world and a continual fear that it may imperil a man's soul. Hence
the sense of vast responsibility felt by the officials, a sense which
finds expression even in the ordinary official correspondence of the
authorities which papyri have preserved for us. The phraseology is
often stereotyped, but as such, expresses a special theory of life.
This responsibility is represented as weighing with especial severity
upon a pious Caliph. Upon election to the throne he accepts office
with great reluctance protesting his unworthiness with tears. The West
can relate similar stories of Gregory the Great and of Justinian.

Exhortations are frequent ever to remember the fact of death and to
repent and bewail past sins. When a mention of the last Judgment
occurs in the reading of passages from the Bible or Qoran, the
auditors burst into tears. Upon one occasion a man was praying upon
the roof of his house and wept so bitterly over his sins, that the
tears ran down the waterspout and flooded the rooms below. This
hyperbolical statement in a typical life of a saint shows the high
value attributed to tears in the East. It is, however, equally a
Christian characteristic. The gracious gift of tears was regarded by
mediaeval Christianity as the sign of a deeply religious nature.
Gregory VII is said to have wept daily at the sacrifice of the Mass
and similar accounts are given to the credit of other famous
Christians.

While a man should weep for his own sins, he is not to bewail any
misfortune or misery which may befall him. In the latter case it is
his duty to collect his strength, to resign himself and to praise God
even amid his sufferings. Should he lose a dear relative by death, he
is not to break out with cries and lamentations like the heathen.
Lamentation for the dead is most strictly forbidden in Islam. "We are
God's people and to God we return" says the pious Muslim on receiving
the unexpected news of a death. Resignation and patience in these
matters is certainly made the subject of eloquent exhortation in the
Qoran, but the special developments of tradition betray Christian
influence.

Generally speaking, the whole ethical system of the two religions is
based upon the contrast between God and the world, though Muhammedan
philosophy will recognize no principle beside that of God. As a
typical example we may take a sentence from the Spanish bishop Isidor
who died in 636: "Good are the intentions directed towards God and bad
are those directed to earthly gain or transitory fame." Any Muhammedan
theologian would have subscribed to this statement. On the one hand
stress is laid upon motive as giving its value to action. The first
sentence in the most famous collection of traditions runs, "Deeds
shall be judged by their intentions." On the other hand is the
contrast between God and the world, or as Islam puts it, between the
present and the future life. The Christian gains eternal life by
following Christ. Imitation of the Master in all things even to the
stigmata, is the characteristic feature of mediaeval Christianity. Nor
is the whole of the so-called Sunna obedience anything more than the
imitation of Muhammed which seeks to repeat the smallest details of
his life. The infinite importance attached by Islam to the Sunna seems
to me to have originated in Christian influence. The development of it
betrays original features, but the fundamental principle is Christian,
as all the leading ideas of Islam are Christian, in the sense of the
term as paraphrased above. Imitation of Christ in the first instance,
attempts to repeat his poverty and renunciation of personal property:
this is the great Christian ideal. Muhammed was neither poor nor
without possessions: at the end of his life he had become a prince and
had directly stated that property was a gift from God. In spite of
that his successors praise poverty and their praises were the best of
evidence that they were influenced not by the prophet himself but by
Christianity. While the traditions are full of the praises of poverty
and the dangers of wealth, assertions in praise of wealth also
occur, for the reason that the pure Muhammedan ideas opposed to
Christianity retained a certain influence. J. Goldziher has published
an interesting study showing how many words borrowed from this source
occur in the written Muhammedan traditions: an almost complete
version of the Lord's Prayer is quoted. Even the idea of love towards
enemies, which would have been unintelligible to Muhammed, made its
way into the traditions: "the most virtuous of acts is to seek out him
who rejects thee, to give to him that despises thee and to pardon him
that oppresses thee." The Gospel precept to do unto others as we would
they should do unto us (Matt. vii. 12, Luke vi. 31) is to be found in
the Arab traditions, and many similar points of contact may be
noticed. A man's "neighbour" has ever been, despite the teaching of
Jesus, to the Christian and to the Muhammedan, his co-religionist. The
whole department of Muhammedan ethics has thus been subjected to
strong Christian influence.

Naturally this ecclesiasticism which dominated the whole of life, was
bound to assert itself in state organisation. An abhorrence of the
state, so far as it was independent of religion, a feeling unknown in
the ancient world, pervades both Christianity and Muhammedanism,
Christianity first struggled to secure recognition in the state and
afterwards fought with the state for predominance. Islam and the state
were at first identical: in its spiritual leaders it was soon
separated from the state. Its idea of a divine polity was elaborated
to the smallest details, but remained a theory which never became
practice. Yet this ideal retained such strength that every Muhammedan
usurper was careful to secure his investiture by the Caliph, the
nominal leader of this ecclesiastical state, even if force were
necessary to attain his object. For instance, Saladin was absolutely
independent of the nominal Caliph in Bagdad, but could not feel that
his position was secure until he had obtained his sultan's patent from
the Caliph. Only then did his supremacy rest upon a religious basis
and he was not regarded by popular opinion as a legitimate monarch
until this ceremony had been performed. This theory corresponds with
constitutional ideals essentially Christian. "The tyranny," wrote
Innocent IV to the Emperor Frederick II, "which was once generally
exercised throughout the world, was resigned into the hands of the
Church by Constantine, who then received as an honourable gift from
the proper source that which he had formerly held and exercised
unrighteously." The long struggle between Church and State in this
matter is well known. In this struggle the rising power of Islam had
adopted a similar attitude. The great abhorrence of a secular
"monarchy" in opposition to a religious caliphate, as expressed both
by the dicta of tradition and by the Abbassid historians, was
inspired, in my opinion, by Christian dislike of a divorce between
Church and State. The phenomenon might be explained without reference
to external influence, but if the whole process be considered in
connection, Christian influence seems more than probable.

A similar attitude was also assumed by either religion towards the
facts of economic life. In either case the religious point of view is
characteristic. The reaction against the tendency to condemn secular
life is certainly stronger in Islam, but is also apparent in
Christianity. Thomas Aquinas directly stigmatises trade as a
disgraceful means of gain, because the exchange of wares does not
necessitate labour or the satisfaction of necessary wants: Muhammedan
tradition says, "The pious merchant is a pioneer on the road of God."
"The first to enter Paradise is the honourable merchant." Here the
solution given to the problem differs in either case, but in Christian
practice, opposition was also obvious. Common to both religions is the
condemnation of the exaction of interest and monetary speculation,
which the middle ages regarded as usury. Islam, as usual, gives this
Christian idea the form of a saying enounced by Muhammed: "He who
speculates in grain for forty days, grinds and bakes it and gives it
to the poor, makes an offering unacceptable to God." "He who raises
prices to Muslims (by speculation) will be cast head downwards by God
into the hottest fire of hell." Many similar traditions fulminate
against usury in the widest sense of the word. These prohibitions were
circumvented in practice by deed of gift and exchange, but none the
less the free development of commercial enterprise was hampered by
these fetters which modern civilisation first broke. Enterprise was
thus confined to agriculture under these circumstances both for
Christianity and Islam, and economic life in either case became
"mediaeval" in outward appearance.

Methods of making profit without a proportional expenditure of labour
were the particular objects of this aversion. Manual labour was highly
esteemed both in the East and West. A man's first duty was to support
himself by the work of his own hands, a duty proclaimed, as we know,
from the apostolic age onwards. So far as Islam is concerned, this
view may be illustrated by the following utterances: "The best of
deeds is the gain of that which is lawful": "the best gain is made by
sale within lawful limits and by manual labour." "The most precious
gain is that made by manual labour; that which a man thus earns and
gives to himself, his people, his sons and his servants, is as
meritorious as alms." Thus practical work is made incumbent upon the
believer, and the extent to which manufacture flourished in East and
West during the middle ages is well known.

A similar affinity is apparent as regards ideas upon social position
and occupation. Before God man is but a slave: even the mighty Caliphs
themselves, even those who were stigmatised by posterity as secular
monarchs, included in their official titles the designation, "slave of
God." This theory was carried out into the smallest details of life,
even into those which modern observers would consider as unconcerned
with religion. Thus at meals the Muslim was not allowed to recline at
table, an ancient custom which the upper classes had followed for
centuries: he must sit, "as a slave," according to the letter of the
law. All are alike slaves, for the reason that they are believers:
hence the humiliation of those whom chance has exalted is thought
desirable. This idealism is undoubtedly more deeply rooted in the
popular consciousness of the East than of the West. In the East great
social distinctions occur; but while religion recognises them, it
forbids insistence upon them.

As especially distinctive of social work in either religion we might
be inclined to regard the unparalleled extent of organizations for the
care of the poor, for widows and orphans, for the old, infirm and
sick, the public hospitals and almshouses and religious foundations in
the widest sense of the term; but the object of these activities was
not primarily social nor were they undertaken to make life easier for
the poor: religious selfishness was the leading motive, the desire to
purify self by good works and to secure the right to pre-eminence in
heaven. "For the salvation of my soul and for everlasting reward" is
the formula of many a Christian foundation deed. Very similar
expressions of hope for eternal reward occur in Muhammedan deeds of
gift. A foundation inscription on a mosque, published by E. Littmann,
is stated in terms the purport of which is unmistakable. "This has
been built by N or M: may a house be built for him in Paradise (in
return)." Here again, the idea of the house in Paradise is borrowed
from Christian ideas.

We have already observed that in Islam the smallest trivialities of
daily life become matters of religious import. The fact is especially
apparent in a wide department of personal conduct. Islam certainly
went to further extremes than Christianity in this matter, but these
customs are clearly only further developments of Christian
regulations. The call to simplicity of food and dress has already been
mentioned. But even the simplest food was never to be taken before
thanks had been given to God: grace was never to be omitted either
before or after meals. Divine ordinances also regulated the manner of
eating. The prophet said, "With one finger the devils eat, with two
the Titans of antiquity and with three fingers the prophets." The
application of the saying is obvious. Similar sayings prescribe the
mode of handling dishes and behaviour at a common meal, if the
blessing of God is to be secured. There seems to be a Christian touch
in one of these rules which runs, in the words of the prophet: "He who
picks up the crumbs fallen from the table and eats them, will be
forgiven by God." "He who licks the empty dishes and his fingers will
be filled by God here and in the world to come." "When a man licks the
dish from which he has eaten, the dish will plead for him before God."
I regard these words as practical applications of the text, "Gather up
the pieces that remain, that nothing be lost" (Matt. xiv. 10: John vi.
12). Even to-day South Italians kiss bread that has fallen to the
ground, in order to make apology to the gift of God. Volumes might be
filled with rules of polite manners in this style: hardly any detail
is to be found in the whole business of daily life, even including
occupations regarded as unclean, which was not invested with some
religious significance. These rules are almost entirely dictated by
the spirit of early Christianity and it is possible to reconstruct the
details of life in those dark ages from these literary records which
are now the only source of evidence upon such points. However, we must
here content ourselves with establishing the fact that Islam adopted
Christian practice in this as in other departments of life.

The state, society, the individual, economics and morality were thus
collectively under Christian influence during the early period of
Muhammedanism. Conditions very similar in general, affected those
conceptions which we explain upon scientific grounds but which were
invariably regarded by ancient and mediaeval thought as supernatural,
conceptions deduced from the phenomena of illness and dreams. Islam
was no less opposed than Christianity to the practice of magic in any
form, but only so far as these practices seemed to preserve remnants
of heathen beliefs. Such beliefs were, however, continued in both
religions in modified form. There is no doubt that ideas of high
antiquity, doubtless of Babylonian origin, can be traced as
contributing to the formation of these beliefs, while scientific
medicine is connected with the earlier discoveries of Greece. Common
to both religions was the belief in the reality of dreams, especially
when these seemed to harmonise with religious ideas: dreams were
regarded as revelations from God or from his apostles or from the
pious dead. The fact that man could dream and that he could appear to
other men in dreams after his death was regarded as a sign of divine
favour and the biographies of the saints often contain chapters
devoted to this faculty. These are natural ideas which lie in the
national consciousness of any people, but owe their development in the
case of Islam to Christian influence. The same may be said of the
belief that the prayers of particular saints were of special efficacy,
and of attempts by prayer, forms of worship and the like to procure
rain, avert plague and so forth: such ideas are common throughout the
middle ages. Thus in every department we meet with that particular
type of Christian theory which existed in the East during the seventh
and eighth centuries.

This mediaeval theory of life was subjected, as is well known, to many
compromises in the West, and was materially modified by Teutonic
influence and the revival of classicism. It might therefore be
supposed that in Islam Christian theory underwent similar modification
or disappeared entirely. But the fact is not so. At the outset, we
stated, as will be remembered, that Muhammedan scholars were
accustomed to propound their dicta as utterances given by Muhammed
himself, and in this form Christian ideas also came into circulation
among Muhammedans. When attempts were made to systematise these
sayings, all were treated as alike authentic, and, as traditional,
exerted their share of influence upon the formation of canon law. Thus
questions of temporary importance to mediaeval Christianity became
permanent elements in Muhammedan theology.

One highly instructive instance may be given. During the century which
preceded the Byzantine iconoclastic controversy, the whole of nearer
Asia was disturbed by the question whether the erection and veneration
of images was permissible. That Constantinople attempted to prohibit
such veneration is well known: but after a long struggle the church
gained its wishes. Islam was confronted with the problem and decided
for prohibition, doubtless under Jewish influence. Sayings of Muhammed
forbid the erection of images. This prohibition became part of canon
law and therefore binding for all time: it remains obligatory at the
present day, though in practice it is often transgressed. Thus the
process of development which was continued in Christendom, came to a
standstill in Islam, and many similar cases might be quoted.

Here begins the development of Muhammedan jurisprudence or, more
exactly, of the doctrine of duty, which includes every kind of human
activity, duties to God and man, religion, civil law, the penal code,
social morality and economics. This extraordinary system of moral
obligations, as developed in Islam, though its origin is obscure, is
doubtless rooted in the ecclesiastical law of Christendom which was
then first evolved. I have no doubt that the development of Muhammedan
tradition, which precedes the code proper, was dependent upon the
growth of canon law in the old Church, and that this again, or at
least the purely legal part of it, is closely connected with the
pre-Justinian legislation. Roman law does not seem to me to have
influenced Islam immediately in the form of Justinian's _Corpus
Juris_, but indirectly from such ecclesiastical sources as the
Romano-Syrian code. This view, however, I would distinctly state, is
merely my conjecture. For our present purpose it is more important to
establish the fact that the doctrine of duty canonised the manifold
expressions of the theory that life is a religion, with which we have
met throughout the traditional literature: all human acts are thus
legally considered as obligatory or forbidden when corresponding with
religious commands or prohibitions, as congenial or obnoxious to the
law or as matters legally indifferent and therefore permissible. The
arrangement of the work of daily life in correspondence with these
religious points of view is the most important outcome of the
Muhammedan doctrine of duties. The religious utterances which also
cover the whole business of life were first made duties by this
doctrine: in practice their fulfilment is impossible, but the theory
of their obligatory nature is a fundamental element in Muhammedanism.

Where the doctrine of duties deals with legal rights, its application
was in practice confined to marriage and the affairs of family life:
the theoretical demands of its penal clauses, for instance, raise
impossible difficulties. At the same time, it has been of great
importance to the whole spiritual life of Islam down to the present
day, because it reflects Muhammedan ideals of life and of man's place
in the world. Even to-day it remains the daily bread of the soul that
desires instruction, to quote the words of the greatest father of the
Muhammedan church. It will thus be immediately obvious to what a vast
extent Christian theory of the seventh and eighth centuries still
remains operative upon Muhammedan thought throughout the world.

Considerable parts of the doctrine of duties are concerned with the
forms of Muhammedan worship. It is becoming ever clearer that only
slight tendencies to a form of worship were apparent under Muhammed.
The mosque, the building erected for the special purpose of divine
service, was unknown during the prophet's lifetime; nor was there any
definite church organisation, of which the most important parts are
the common ritual and the preaching. Tendencies existed but no system,
was to be found: there was no clerical class to take an interest in
the development of an order of divine service. The Caliphs prayed
before the faithful in the capital, as did the governors in the
provinces. The military commanders also led a simple service in their
own stations.

It was contact with foreign influence which first provided the impulse
to a systematic form of worship. Both Christians and Jews possessed
such forms. Their example was followed and a ritual was evolved, at
first of the very simplest kind. No detailed organisation, however,
was attempted, until Christian influence led to the formation of the
class which naturally took an interest in the matter, the professional
theologians. These soon replaced the military service leaders. This
change denoted the final stage in the development of ritual. The
object of the theologians was to subject the various occupations of
life to ritual as well as to religion. The mediatorial or sacramental
theories of the priestly office were unknown to Islam, but ritual
customs of similar character were gradually evolved, and are
especially pronounced in the ceremonies of marriage and burial.

More important, however, was the development of the official service,
the arrangement of the day and the hour of obligatory attendance and
the introduction of preaching: under Muhammed and his early followers,
and until late in the Omajjad period, preaching was confined to
addresses, given as occasion demanded, but by degrees it became part
of the regular ritual. With it was afterwards connected the
intercession for the Caliphs, which became a highly significant part
of the service, as symbolising their sovereignty. It seems to me very
probable that this practice was an adoption, at any rate in theory, of
the Christian custom of praying for the emperor. The pulpit was then
introduced under Christian influence, which thus completely
transformed the chair (_mimbar_) of the ancient Arab judges and rulers
and made it a piece of church furniture; the Christian _cancelli_ or
choir screens were adopted and the mosque was thus developed. Before
the age of mosques, a lance had been planted in the ground and prayer
offered behind it: so in the mosque a prayer niche was made, a
survival of the pre-existing custom. There are many obscure points in
the development of the worship, but one fact may be asserted with
confidence: the developments of ritual were derived from pre-existing
practices, which were for the most part Christian.

But the religious energy of Islam was not exclusively devoted to the
development and practice of the doctrine of duties; at the same time
this ethical department, in spite of its dependency upon Christian and
Jewish ideas, remains its most original achievement: we have pursued
the subject at some length, because its importance is often overlooked
in the course of attempts to estimate the connection between
Christianity and Islam. On the other hand, affinities in the regions
of mysticism and dogma have long been matter of common knowledge and a
brief sketch of them will therefore suffice. If not essential to our
purpose within the limits of this book, they are none the less
necessary to complete our treatment of the subject.

By mysticism we understand the expression of religious emotion, as
contrasted with efforts to attain righteousness by full obedience to
the ethical doctrine of duties, and also in contrast to the
hair-splitting of dogmatic speculation: mysticism strove to reach
immediate emotional unity with the Godhead. No trace of any such
tendency was to be found in the Qoran: it entered Islam as a complete
novelty, and the affinities which enabled it to gain a footing have
been difficult to trace.

Muhammedan mysticism is certainly not exclusively Christian: its
origins, like those of Christian mysticism, are to be found in the
pantheistic writings of the Neoplatonist school of Dionysius the
Areopagite: but Islam apparently derived its mysticism from Christian
sources. In it originated the idea, with all its capacity for
development, of the mystical love of God: to this was added the theory
and practice of asceticism which was especially developed by
Christianity, and, in later times, the influence of Indian philosophy,
which is unmistakable. Such are the fundamental elements of this
tendency. When the idea of the Nirwana, the Arab _fan[=a]_, is
attained, Muhammedanism proper comes to an end. But orthodoxy controls
the divergent elements: it opposes any open avowal of the logical
conclusion, which would identify "God" and the "ego," but in practice
this group of ideas, pantheistic in all but name, has been received
and given a place side by side with the strict monotheism of the Qoran
and with the dogmatic theology. Any form of mysticism which is pushed
to its logical consequences must overthrow positive religion. By
incorporating this dangerous tendency within itself, Islam has averted
the peril which it threatens. Creed is no longer endangered, and this
purpose being secured, thought is free.

Union with God is gained by ecstasy and leads to enthusiasm. These
terms will therefore show us in what quarter we must seek the
strongest impulses to mysticism. The concepts, if not the actual
terms, are to be found in Islam: they were undoubtedly transmitted by
Christianity and undergo the wide extension which results in the
dervish and fakir developments. _Dervish_ and _fakir_ are the Persian
and Arabic words for "beggar": the word _sufi_, a man in a woollen
shirt, is also used in the same sense. The terms show that asceticism
is a fundamental element in mysticism; asceticism was itself an
importation to Islam. Dervishes are divided into different classes or
orders, according to the methods by which they severally prefer to
attain ecstasy: dancing and recitation are practised by the dancing
and howling dervishes and other methods are in vogue. It is an
institution very different from monasticism but the result of a course
of development undoubtedly similar to that which produced the monk:
dervishism and monasticism are independent developments of the same
original idea.

Among these Muhammedan companies attempts to reach the point of
ecstasy have developed to a rigid discipline of the soul; the believer
must subject himself to his master, resigning all power of will, and
so gradually reaches higher stages of knowledge until he is eventually
led to the consciousness of his absolute identity with God. It seems
to me beyond question that this method is reflected in the _exercitiis
spiritualibus_ of Ignatius Loyola, the chief instrument by which the
Jesuits secured dominion over souls. Any one who has realised the
enormous influence which Arab thought exerted upon Spanish
Christianity so late as the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, will
not regard the conjecture as unfounded.

When a man's profession or position prevented him from practising
these mystical exercises, he satisfied his religious needs by
venerating persons who were nearer to the deity and whose intercession
was effectual even after their death and sometimes not until they were
dead: hence arose the veneration of saints, a practice as alien as
pantheistic dogma to primitive Islam. The adoption of Christian saint
worship was not possible until the person of Muhammed himself had been
exalted above the ordinary level of humanity. Early Muhammedans
observed that the founder of Christianity was regarded by popular
opinion as a miracle worker of unrivalled power: it was impossible for
the founder of Islam to remain inferior in this respect. Thus the
early biographies of the prophet, which appeared in the first century
of Muhammedanism, recount the typical miracles of the Gospels, the
feeding of multitudes, healing the sick, raising the dead and so
forth. Two methods of adoption may be distinguished. Special features
are directly borrowed, or the line of advance is followed which had
introduced the worship of saints and relics to Christianity a short
time before. The religious emotions natural to any people produced a
series of ideas which pass from one religion to another. Outward form
and purport may be changed, but the essential points remain unaltered
and are the living expression of that relation to God in which a
people conceives itself to stand. Higher forms of religion--a fact as
sad as it is true--require a certain degree not only of moral but of
intellectual capacity.

Thus we have traversed practically the whole circle of religious life
and have everywhere found Islam following in the path of Christian
thought. One department remains to be examined, which might be
expected to offer but scanty opportunity for borrowings of this kind;
this is dogma. Here, if anywhere, the contrast between the two
religions should be obvious. The initial divergencies were so
pronounced, that any adoption of Christian ideas would seem
impossible. Yet in those centuries, Christianity was chiefly agitated
by dogmatic questions, which occupied men's minds as greatly as social
problems at the present day. Here we can observe most distinctly, how
the problems at least were taken over by Islam.

Muhammedan dogmatic theology is concerned only with three main
questions, the problem of free-will, the being and attributes of God,
and the eternal uncreated nature of God's word. The mere mention of
these problems will recall the great dogmatic struggles of early
Christianity. At no time have the problems of free-will and the nature
of God, been subjects of fiercer dispute than during the
Christological and subsequent discussions. Upholders of freedom or of
determinism could alike find much to support their theories in the
Qoran: Muhammed was no dogmatist and for him the ideas of man's
responsibility and of God's almighty and universal power were not
mutually exclusive. The statement of the problem was adopted from
Christianity as also was the dialectical subtlety by which a solution
was reached, and which, while admitting the almighty power of God,
left man responsible for his deeds by regarding him as free to accept
or refuse the admonitions of God. Thus the thinkers and their demands
for justice and righteous dealing were reconciled to the blind
fatalism of the masses, which again was not a native Muhammedan
product, but is the outcome of the religious spirit of the East.

The problem of reconciling the attributes of God with the dogma of His
unity was solved with no less subtlety. The mere idea that a
multiplicity of attributes was incompatible with absolute unity was
only possible in a school which had spent centuries in the desperate
attempt to reconcile the inference of a divine Trinity with the
conception of absolute divine unity.

Finally, the third question, "Was the Qoran, the word of God, created
or not?" is an obvious counterpart of the Logos problem, of the
struggle to secure recognition of the Logos as eternal and uncreated
together with God. Islam solved the question by distinguishing the
eternal and uncreated Qoran from the revealed and created. The eternal
nature of the Qoran was a dogma entirely alien to the strict
monotheism of Islam: but this fact was never realised, any more than
the fact that the acceptance of the dogma was a triumph for
Graeco-Christian dialectic. There can be no more striking proof of the
strength of Christian influence: it was able to undermine the
fundamental dogma of Islam, and the Muhammedans never realised the
fact.

In our review of these dogmatic questions, we have met with a novel
tendency, that to metaphysical speculation and dialectic. It was from
Christendom, not directly from the Greek world, that this spirit
reached Islam: the first attitude of Muhammedanism towards it was that
which Christianity adopted towards all non-religious systems of
thought. Islam took it up as a useful weapon for the struggle against
heresy. But it soon became a favourite and trusted implement and
eventually its influence upon Muhammedan philosophy became paramount.
Here we meet with a further Christian influence, which, when once
accepted, very largely contributed to secure a similar development of
mediaeval Christian and Muhammedan thought. This was Scholasticism,
which was the natural and inevitable consequence of the study of Greek
dialectic and philosophy. It is not necessary to sketch the growth of
scholasticism, with its barrenness of results in spite of its keen
intellectual power, upon ground already fertilised by ecclesiastical
pioneers. It will suffice to state the fact that these developments of
the Greek spirit were predominant here as in the West: in either case
important philosophies rise upon this basis, for the most part
professedly ecclesiastical, even when they occasionally struck at the
roots of the religious system to which they belonged. In this
department, Islam repaid part of its debt to Christianity, for the
Arabs became the intellectual leaders of the middle ages.

Thus we come to the concluding section of this treatise; before we