There are no grand mosques in Circassia,
because there are no towns: but in every little village there is a clay
cottage, where prayers are offered up in the name of Mahomet. There can
be no minaret to such a miserable mosque: so the man who calls the hours
of prayer, climbs a tall tree, by the help of notches, and getting into a
basket at the top, makes the rocks and hills resound with his cry. How
different shall be the sound one day heard in every land; when all people
shall believe in Jesus. "Then shall the inhabitants of the rocks
sing--then shall they shout from the top of the mountains, and give glory
unto the _Lord_" and not to Mahomet. (Is. xlii. 11, 12.)
But though the Circassians call themselves Mahomedans, they keep many of
their old customs, and these customs show that they once heard about
Christ.
It is their custom to dedicate every boy to God: but not really to _God_,
for in truth they dedicate him to the _cross_. Let me give you an account
of one of the feasts of dedication.
The place of meeting was a green, shaded by spreading oak-trees. In the
midst stood a cross. Each family who came to the feast, brought a little
table, and placed it before the cross; and on each table, there were
loaves, and a sort of bread called "pasta." There was a blazing fire on
the green, round which the elder women sat, while the younger preferred
the shade of a thicket. The priest took a loaf of bread in one hand, and
in the other, a large cup of shuat, (a kind of wine) and holding them out
towards the cross, blessed them.
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