[p.432]enter a building with a white wall without inditing upon it platitudes in verse and prose.  Influenced by these considerations, I drew forth a pencil and inscribed in the Kubbat al-Sanaya,

[Arabic text]

“Abdullah, the servant of Allah.” (A.H.) 1269.

Issuing from the dome, we turned a few paces to the left, passed northwards, and thus blessed the Martyrs of Ohod: 

“Peace be upon Ye, O Martyrs!  Peace be upon Ye, O Blessed! ye Pious! ye Pure! who fought upon Allah’s Path the good Fight, who worshipped your Lord until He brought you to Certainty.[FN#27] Peace be upon You of whom Allah said (viz., in the Koran), ‘Verily repute not them slain on God’s Path (i.e., warring with Infidels); nay, rather they are alive, and there is no Fear upon them, nor are they sorrowful!’ Peace be upon Ye, O Martyrs of Ohod!  One and All, and the Mercy of Allah and His Blessings.”

Then again we moved a few paces forward and went through a similar ceremony, supposing ourselves to be in the cave that sheltered the Apostle.  After which, returning towards the torrent-bed by the way we came, we stood a small distance from a cupola called Kubbat al-Masra.  It resembles that of the “Front-teeth,” and notes, as its name proves, the place where the gallant

[p.433]Hamzah fell by the spear of Wahshi the slave.[FN#28] We faced towards it and finished the ceremonies of this Ziyarat by a Supplication, the Testification, and the Fatihah.

In the evening I went with my friends to the Harim.  The minaret galleries were hung with lamps, and the inside of the temple was illuminated.  It was

[p.434]crowded with Hajis, amongst whom were many women, a circumstance which struck me from its being unusual.[FN#29] Some pious pilgrims, who had duly paid for the privilege, were perched upon ladders trimming wax candles of vast dimensions, others were laying up for themselves rewards in Paradise, by performing the same office to the lamps; many were going through the ceremonies of Ziyarat, and not a few were sitting in different parts of the Mosque apparently overwhelmed with emotion.  The boys and the beggars were inspired with fresh energy, the Aghawat were gruffer and surlier than I had ever seen them, and the young men about town walked and talked with a freer and an easier demeanour than usual.  My old friends the Persians-there were about 1200 of them in the Hajj Caravan-attracted my attention.  The doorkeepers stopped them with curses as they were about to enter, and all claimed from each the sum of five piastres, whilst other Moslems were allowed to enter the Mosque free.  Unhappy men! they had lost all the Shiraz swagger, their mustachios dropped pitiably, their eyes would not look any one in the face, and not a head bore a cap stuck upon it crookedly.  Whenever an “’Ajami,” whatever might be his rank, stood in the way of an Arab or a Turk, he was rudely thrust aside, with abuse muttered loud enough to be heard by all around.  All eyes followed them as they went through the ceremonies of Ziyarat, especially as they approached the tombs of Abu Bakr and Omar,-which every man is bound to defile if he can,-and the supposed place of Fatimah’s burial.  Here they stood in parties, after praying before the Prophet’s window:  one read from a book the pathetic tale of the Lady’s life, sorrows, and