The Days of Mohammed Part 15

Amzi looked at him curiously. "Yusuf," he said, "is there no extremity of your life in which your religion fails to give you comfort? It seems to furnish you with words befitting every occasion."

"Comfort in every hour of need," returned Yusuf, "deliverance in every hour of temptation, is our G.o.d able to bestow if we seek him in spirit and in truth. Things temporal, as well as things spiritual, call for his almighty love and attention; and our love for him brightens every pathway in life. It is the knowledge of this which has upheld his children in all the ages;--not one of them who has not gloried in feeling that 'G.o.d is our refuge and strength, a very present help in time of trouble. Therefore will we not fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea.'

Not one of them but has at some time found comfort in the promises, 'When the poor and the needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them; I, the G.o.d of Israel, will not forsake them. He that keepeth Israel slumbers not, nor sleeps. Fear thou not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy G.o.d; I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.' Think of this help, Amzi, in every struggle: in the struggle, worse than any time of battle, with one's own sinful heart. And there is not one of G.o.d's children but has realized the blessedness of following the commands of Jesus, 'Have faith in G.o.d. Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.' Amzi, you who love gentleness and peace, truth and humility, cannot you find in Christ and his loving precepts all you would ask? Can anything appeal to your warm heart more than such injunctions as these?--'Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you. When thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth. Let your light so s.h.i.+ne before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven. Judge not, that ye be not judged. Watch ye, therefore, and pray always. Pray that ye enter not into temptation.'"

He paused, out of breath; for such had been his study of the Scriptures that the words came in a flood to his lips.

Amzi sighed. "Yes, Yusuf," he said, "such words seem to me full of goodness and sweetness; yet, try as I may, I cannot realize their true import. I cannot rejoice, as you and your friends do, in your religion and its promises."

"My Amzi," returned the priest, "how can you be warmed except you come to the fire? Remember the man with the withered hand. Did he not stretch it out in faith? My friend, like him, act! Reach out your heart to G.o.d.

He will not fail you. Look not upon yourself. Look upon G.o.d, who is, indeed, closer to you than you can imagine. Put your hand in his, behold his love manifested to us in the coming of his dear Son, and feel that that love is to-day the same, proceeding from the Father in whom is 'no variableness, neither shadow of turning.'"

Amzi sighed. "Yusuf," he said, "it appears all dark, impenetrable, to me. A wall of adamant seems to stand between me and G.o.d. Pray for me, friend. In this matter I fear I am heartless."

In spite of this a.s.sertion, there was genuine concern in the tone, and the priest's face flushed in the glad light of hope.

"Amzi," he exclaimed, "my hope for you increases. Even now, you begin to realize your own self: it remains for you to realize G.o.d's self. Know G.o.d--would I could burn that upon your heart! All else would be made plain."

Amzi sighed again. For a time he sat in silence, then he said:

"I have been reading of the tabernacle, and of the sacrifices therein."

"Typical of the death of Christ," returned Yusuf. "A constant emblem of that mind which was, and is to-day, ready to suffer, that we may understand its infinite love."

"Strange, strange!" said Amzi, musingly. Then after a long silence: "Yusuf, have you ever noted the resemblance of the Caaba to the reputed appearance of the tabernacle?"

"The resemblance struck me from the first glance--the courtyard, the temple itself, and the curtain (or 'Kiswah') corresponding to the veil of the tabernacle. This same Caaba may trace its origin in some dim way to the ancient tabernacle, of which, in this land, the significance must have become lost in the centuries during which the Ishmaelitish race forgot the true wors.h.i.+p of G.o.d."

"And what think you of the course which affairs are now taking in Arabia?" asked Amzi. "You believe in the supervision of G.o.d; why, then, does he permit such outbreaks as the present one is proving to be?"

"I certainly believe that the Creator sees and knows all things. I believe, too, that even to Mohammed, at one time in his life, the Holy Spirit appealed, as he did to me, and, I hope, does now to you, Amzi,--for his pleadings come sometime to all men; but, I think that if in earnest at first, Mohammed--if, indeed, he be not a monomaniac on the subject of his divine calling--has given himself up to the wild indulgence of his ambition, forgetting Him whose power is able to direct us all aright. Hence, he guides himself, rather than seeks to be guided, and, in such a case, he may sometimes be allowed to go on in his own way, bearing with him those who are so foolish as to accept his teaching. Something of this kind may, indeed, be one of the secrets of the crimes and calamities which enter into many human lives. G.o.d leaves us free to choose. When we come to know him we choose to be his followers. If we are indifferent to him, he may, at times, look on without interfering in our lives except to send us occasionally great trouble, or great joy, as an appeal to us. His mercy is great. He pities and pleads with us, yet he leaves us free."

"And what, think you, will be the effect upon Arabia of this rising?"

Yusuf shook his head. "I know not," he said. "We cannot see now, nor mayhap until ages have rolled by; but 'at eventide it shall be light.'"

So talked Amzi and the priest until the gray dawn shone in, and the voice of Bilal, the muezzin, was heard calling from the mosque:

"G.o.d is great! There is no G.o.d but G.o.d! Mohammed is the prophet of G.o.d!

Come to prayers! G.o.d is great!"

CHAPTER XV.

THE PERSECUTION BEGINS.

"In doing good we are generally cold and languid and sluggish.... But the works of Malice and Injustice are quite in another style."--_Burke._

Among those left dead on the field of Bedr were the father, uncle and brother of Henda, the wife of Abu Sofian. Fierce and savage as was her nature, she was yet capable of deep feeling, and her love for her kindred was one of the ruling pa.s.sions of her life.

When the caravan at last reached Mecca in safety, she rushed to meet Abu Sofian, weeping wildly, wringing her hands in grief, and throwing dust on her long hair. She besought him frantically to avenge their death, and he, knowing that the debt of "blood revenge" was now upon him, and that blood alone would wipe the stain from his honor, gathered two hundred swift hors.e.m.e.n and set out almost immediately for Medina.

On the way he ravaged the whole country, burning the villages and date-groves of Mohammed's followers.

When within three miles of Medina the prophet sallied out to meet him. A brief contest took place, and Abu Sofian was once more defeated in what was jestingly called the Battle of the Meal Sacks.

The Moslems were exultant over their success, but Abu Sofian returned to Mecca, the blood-dues still unpaid, and with bitter enmity gnawing at his heart.

In the meantime Mohammed began to a.s.sume all the airs of an independent sovereign. He married a beautiful maiden, Hafza, to whom he entrusted the care of the Koran, according as it was revealed; and shortly afterwards he issued a decree by which all true believers were ordered to face Mecca when praying. Thus early in his career of conquest he had fixed upon Mecca as the future holy city of the Moslems. As usual, the Koran was called in to authorize him in thus fixing the Kebla, or point of prayer.

"Unto G.o.d belongeth the East and the West. He directeth whom he pleaseth in the right way. Turn, therefore, thy face towards the holy temple of Mecca; and wherever ye be, turn your faces towards that place."

At this time also he sanctioned the retaining of the holy fast of Ramadhan and the pilgrimages connected therewith. As he was well aware that the doing away with the great bazar upon which the prosperity of Mecca so largely depended would loose a host of enemies upon him, he declared:

"O true believers, a fast is ordained you, as it was ordained unto them before you, that ye may fear G.o.d. The month of Ramadhan shall ye fast, in which the Koran was sent down from heaven, a direction unto men."

Henceforth, during the fast, all true believers were to abstain from eating or drinking, and from all earthly pleasures, while the sun shone above the horizon and until the lamps at the mosques were lighted by the Imaums. It is needless to say that the Moslems obviated this self-sacrifice by sleeping during the day as much as possible, giving the night up to all the proscribed indulgences of the interdicted season.

And now Mohammed's hatred to the Jews began to show itself, and the awful persecution of the little Jewish band in Medina commenced.

Poor Dumah was one of the first to bring the rod of wrath upon himself.

When wandering down the street one day, not very long after the Battle of Bedr, he paused by a well, just as Mohammed, accompanied by his faithful Zeid, appeared in the way. Dumah saw them and at once began to sing his thoughts in a wild, irregular lament. His voice was peculiarly sweet and clear, and every word reached the ear of the enraged prophet.

The song was a weird lament over those slain at Bedr:

"They are fallen, the good are fallen, Low in the dust they are fallen; And their hair is steeped in blood; But the poison-wind shrieks above them, Sighing anon like the cushat, And breathing its curses upon him, Upon him, the chief of impostors.

As he pa.s.ses the leaflets tremble, And the flowers shrink from his pathway; And the angels smile not upon him, For he maketh the widow and orphan; And the voice of Rachel riseth In mourning loud for her children.

And no comfort doth fall upon her.

Soft like the balm of Gilead."

Turning to one of his followers, Mohammed commanded angrily:

"Seize that singer!"

Dumah heard the exclamation, and was off like the wind, followed by two or three Moslems, each anxious to secure the victim first, and thus win the approval of the august Mohammed.

On, on, straight to the house of Amzi fled Dumah. Bursting open the door, he rushed in, his long hair disordered, his face purple with running and his eyes wide with terror.

"Save me, Yusuf! Save me, Amzi!" he cried. "Mohammed will kill me!

Mohammed will kill me!"

Yusuf sprang to the door, and the poor fugitive threw himself at Amzi's feet, clinging to his garments with his thin, white hands.

But the pursuers were already upon him. Yusuf strove in vain to detain them, to reason with them.

"Can you not see he is a poor artless lad? Can you not have mercy?" he cried.

"It is the order of the prophet of Allah!" was the response.