e us. Round the narrow outer gallery of this
slender tower a man in dark robes was pacing slowly, his arms
outstretched, his face upturned to heaven. Not once did he look below as
he continued his aerial round, his voice giving forth the chant which we
had heard--"Allah akbar; Allah akbar; la Allah ill' Allah. Heyya
alas-salah!" (God is great; God is great; there is no God but God, and
Mohammed is his prophet. Come to prayer.) Again, another day, in the old
Touloun quarter, we heard the sound, but it was much nearer. It came
from a window but little above our heads, the small mosque within the
quadrangle having no minaret. This time I could note the muezzin
himself. As he could not see the sky from where he stood, his eyes were
closed. I have never beheld a more concentrated expression of devotion
than his quiet face expressed; he might have been miles away from the
throng below, instead of three feet, as his voice gave forth the same
strange, sweet chant. The muezzins are often selected from the ranks of
the blind, as the duties of the office are within their powers; but this
singer at the low window had closed his eyes voluntarily. The last time
I saw the muezzin was towards the end of the season, when the spring was
far advanced. Cairo gayety was at its height, the streets were crowded
with Europeans returning from the races, the new quarter was as modern
as Paris. But there are minarets even in the new quarter, or near it;
and on one of the highest of these turrets, outlined against the glow of
the sunset, I saw the slowly pacing figure, with its arms outstretched
over the city--"Allah akbar; Allah akbar; come, come to prayer."

There are over four hundred mosques in Cairo, and many of them are in a
dilapidated condition. Some of these were erected by private means to
perpetuate the name and good deeds of the founder and his family; then,
in the course of time, owing to the extinction or to the poverty of the
descendants, the endowment fund has been absorbed or turned into another
channel, and the ensuing neglect has ended in ruin. When a pious Muslim
of to-day wishes to perform a good work, he builds a new mosque. It
would never occur to him to repair the old one near at hand, which
commemorates the generosity of another man. It must be remembered that
a mosque has no established congregation, whose duty it is to take care
of it. A mosque, in fact, to Muslims has not an exclusively religious
character. It is a place