# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1920_S15
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

14 ‘The Lutheran Pioneer.

“Only a “Woman.”

Women amongst the pagans are more or less free.
They are treated badly only when they are the
weaker; but as soon as the men become Moham-
medans, the women become slaves, and worse than
slaves.

Under Islam woman is a chattel in her hus-
band’s hands, whom he is authorized to punish for
wrong-doing by, beating, stoning, or imprisonment
until death. In case a woman is guilty of breaking
the marriage-tie, the Koran provides: “If any of
your women be guilty, . . . produce four witnesses

A Christian School for Girls.

Christianity does not degrade woman, but lifts her up and respects her.

from among you against them, and if they bear
witness against them, imprison them in separate
apartments until death releases them.” The pun-
ishment in the early days of Mohammedanism was
incarceration until death, but later on that cruel
doom was mitigated, and married women were al-
lowed to be stoned. :

Mohammedans also are allowed, and even com-
manded, to beat their wives. Innocent women are
beaten by the men whenever-the latter choose. “Re-
move them into separate apartments, and chastise
them,” says the Koran. What a contrast to the law
of love and the law of Christ! As a result, we have
scenes like the following.

A missionary in North Africa, in one of the in-
land Mohammedan towns, used to go up in the even-

ings to the roof of her house to enjoy the cool air.
Night by night there she heard curious cries and
wailing from the next courtyard. Anxious to find
out who was in trouble, one evening when nobody
was near, she stepped over the low parapet wall,
walked to the edge of the roof, and peered down
into the next courtyard. What did she see? At
the foot of the opposite wall she saw a hole about
the size of a dog’s kennel, and by the side of this
hole a woman, chained hand and foot, fastened to
the wall, weeping. The missionary called out, “Why
are you weeping?” But the poor thing got fright-
ened, and hid away in the hole. By dint of kind
and sympathetie words ~ the
missionary coaxed her out
again, and at last drew the
following story from her:—

“Many months ago I dis-
obeyed my husband. He beat
me frightfully. He chained
me to the wall. He has beaten
me every day since, and he has
said he is going to beat me to
death. That is why TI am
crying.”

There is no Jaw in any Mo-
hammedan country to protect
this woman. The Koran it-
self gives its voice against her.

I have sat at my window in
the native quarter of Alexan-
dria, Egypt, watching the
Arab life in the lane below.
One of the women who lived
there had a little boy that was
very fond of making mud pies in front of the house.
I saw her one afternoon step into the doorway and
call the little fellow.

“Come in, darling; don’t get your clothes so
dirty. Come in, sweet one.” No answer from the
little four-year-old.

The mother stepped into the road, looking about
to see that there were no men near to watch her.
She laid kind, motherly hands on the child to take
him into the house. |

“Come, little one. I will give you sweets.
Come!” Her husband was at that moment coming
round the next corner, and stood still to see what
would happen. What did happen was this: The
child turned round on his mother, and, doubling up
his little dirty fist, he beat her right in the face and