chool of mysticism. But Islam such as Ghazzali conceived it is no
longer that of ancient times. Another order of ideas has been insensibly
substituted for the austere creed of the Prophet of Mecca, the very
foundations of which they have undermined. Muhammad's religious edifice
remains standing, its framework and external outlines are the same; but
the spirit which informs it is profoundly different. Arab mysticism has
succeeded in finding a footing in the official circles of the Moslem
hierarchy.

The reconciliation, however, of the mystics with the theologians was
only apparent, and could not be otherwise. At the bottom of the question
there were two incompatible principles. For the theologians the letter
of the Koran and written tradition contained all religious knowledge.
For the mystics the dead letter was nothing, and the inspiration of
their own hearts was the sole source of all knowledge. Of these two
principles, one subordinates reason to tradition and tends to the almost
complete abdication of thought in favour of absolute faith; the other
results in enthroning imagination, spiritual hallucination and mystic
ecstacy. The first confines religion to too narrow limits; the second
robs it of all palpable substance and positive form, and makes it as
vague and intangible as the clouds.

Egypt has always been a soil favourable to the development of mystic
tendencies. Christian asceticism took early root there, and during the
first centuries of our era thousands of anchorites inhabited the deserts
of the Thebaid, and carried on there religious exercises of extreme
austerity. We do not know what secret connection may exist between the
climate of the valley of the Nile and the character of its inhabitants,
but if the Arab chroniclers deserve any credit, Arab mysticism
originated in this country. The celebrated theosophist Zu'l Noun is
known as the first who introduced into Islam visions and mystic
ecstacies. Some centuries later the famous poet Omar Ibn Faridh saw the
light at Cairo, and since then Egypt has produced a long series of
Muhammadan ascetics more or less famous. Sharani is one of the last of
this theosophic school of Egypt, the doctrines of which he expounds in
his numerous works. We do not know if the impression he made on his
contemporaries was as great as the zeal with which he pleads the cause
of mysticism, but up to the present day his memory is religiously
preserved at Cairo, where a mosque still bear