head as if from a bath in the crystal stream. Aurora, goddess of the dawn, blushes in the sky, and with her rosy fingers she sports playfully with the golden tresses of Andalusia's fairest daughter. It is morn,
"When the magic of daylight awakes
A new wonder each moment, as slowly it breaks;
Hills, cupolas, fountains, called forth everyone
Out of darkness, as if but just born of the sun."
It is with difficulty that our agile oarsman, the raven-locked and graceful featured Jewish youth, whose services as guide we have again secured, makes his way among the countless pleasure boats that ply to and fro. We marvel at this, for distinctly we remember how the broad stream was furrowed during our first visit by boats of traffic only. "It is Friday, the Mohammedan Sabbath," our guide informs us, and we no longer wonder. The boats, some gilded, some festooned, some decked with the richest tapestry, are peopled with gay and happy pleasure seekers. The whole youth of Cordova seems to disport itself upon the water. The air re-echoes their merry laughters and their music:
"From psaltery, pipe and lutes of heavenly thrill,
Or there own youthful voices, heavenlier still."
The winged chorister of the woods and parks take up the refrain, and warble their sweetest, as if in contest with voices human for supremacy in song. But what is most strange and most charming is the continual challenge between the oarsmen for repartee songs, which are either extemporized at the moment, or quotations from their numerous poets. A boat crosses our path, stays our course, and its oarsman to test our guide's readiness to sing Cordova's praise, thus begins in the sweet tones of the poetic Arabic tongue:
"Do not talk of the court of Bagdad and its glittering magnificence.
Do not praise Persia and China, and their manifold advantages,
For there is no spot on earth like Cordova,
Nor in the whole world beauties like its beauties."
To which our guide instantly replies, with a sweet and pure tenor voice:
"O, my beloved Cordova!
Where shall I behold thine equal.
Thou art like an enchanted spot,
Thy fields are luxuriant gardens,
Thy earth of various colors
Resembles a flock of rose colored amber."
The challenging oarsman had met his peer. He is pleased with the reply and clears the path. Now our oarsman impedes the path of a boat, and taking for his theme, "The Ladies," challenges its oarsman thus:
"Bright is the gold and fair the pearl,
But brighter, fairer, thou, sweet girl.
Jacinths and emeralds of the mine,
Radiant as sun and moon may shine,
But what are all their charms to thine?"
To which the challenged replies:
"The Maker's stores have beauties rare,
But none that can with thee compare,
O pearl, that God's own hand hath made;
Earth, sky and sea,
Compare with thee,
See all their splendors sink in shade."
We have reached the landing place. Again we tread in the streets of Cordova, that had surprised and delighted us so much during our first visit. We have not advanced far, when suddenly there breaks on our ear a voice, loud and mighty, as never heard before. We look in the direction whence the voice comes, and on the graceful balcony around the "minaret"—the "muezzin," who calleth, with a solemn power in his living voice, which neither flag, trumpet, bell nor fire could simulate or rival, the Faithful thus to prayer:
"Come to prayer! Come to prayer! Come to the Temple of Salvation! Great God! Great God! There is no God except God!"
At the sound of the muezzin's call, the throngs that crowd the streets hasten their steps, while some few stop, and turning towards the Kiblah—(point of the heaven in the direction of Mecca, which is indicated by the position of the minarets,) either prostrate themselves upon the ground, or, folding their arms across their bosom, bow their turbaned head to the ground, and raise their heart and voice to Allah. Five times, every day, our guide informs us, the muezzin calls the faithful to prayer. Those who are thus worshiping publicly upon the streets, are for some reasons prevented from attending the mosque, and the Koran allows them to pray in any clean place, and the streets of Cordova are clean indeed. Prayer is great with the Moors, our guide continues. Mohammed has laid great stress upon its efficacy and importance. "It is the pillar of religion and the key to paradise," said he. "Angels come among you both by night and day, when they ascend to heaven God asks them how they left his creatures. We found them, say they, at their prayers, and we left them at their prayers." Even the postures to be observed in prayer he had prescribed. Females in prayer are not to stretch forth their arms, but to hold them on their bosoms. They are not to make as deep inflexions as the men. They are to pray in a low and gentle tone of voice. They are not permitted to accompany the men to the mosque, lest the mind of the worshipers should be drawn from their devotions. Neither are they allowed to worship together with the men. They have their gallery in the mosque fenced in with latticework. No one is permitted to go to prayer decked with costly ornaments or clothed in sumptuous apparel.
While listening to our guide, our feet unconsciously followed the hastening throngs, and before we were aware of it we stood before the "mezquita," the great mosque, the famous edifice which, with its buildings and courts, covers more space than any place of worship in existence, the rival of the Caaba at Mecca, and of the Alaksa of Jerusalem. Like all Moorish architecture, its exterior is very plain. Our guide gives us its dimensions; it is 642 feet long and 440 wide. The height of the Alminar tower is 250 feet.
This is Friday, the "Yawn al Yoma" the great day of assembly for worship, the Mohammedan Sabbath, sacred because on that day man was created, because that day had already been consecrated by the early Arabians to "Astarte," Venus, the most beautiful of the planets and the brightest of the stars; and, also because from that day, Friday (July 16, 622,) the day of the Hegira, begins the Mohammedan calendar. Our guide assures us that there are special services on Friday, that on this day the Mufti expounds some chapters from the Koran, and the "Imaum" (preacher,) delivers a "Khotbeh" (sermon).
We enter through one of the nineteen lofty and massive bronze gates, and the beauties we now behold baffle description.
The "Kiblah" is reached by nineteen aisles, marked by columns of jasper, beryl, verd-antique, porphyry, finely carved, supporting in two directions double horseshoe arches, one above the other. These are crossed by thirty-eight aisles, also composed of columns of different marbles, making thus literally a forest of columns. The ceiling is filled with ovals inscribed with appropriate inscriptions from the Koran, to call the mind of the faithful to contemplation and devotion. From it are suspended 280 chandeliers, which light the vast space with upwards of 10,000 lights.
The "Al Mihrab" at the
