Chapter 16

AMZI FINALLY REJECTS MOHAMMED.

"'Do the duty which lies nearest thee' which thou knowest to be a duty! Thy second duty will already have become clearer."--_Carlyle, "Sartor Resartus."_

Upon the following morning Yusuf hastened to obtain an interview with Mohammed. The prophet lived in an ostentatiously humble abode--a low, broad building, roofed with date-sticks, and thatched with the broad leaves of the palm tree.

Mohammed absolutely refused to see him. Ayesha, the youngest and fairest of the prophet's wives, sent to inform him that Mohammed had nothing to say to the Christian Yusuf. So with heavy heart he turned away and sought the house of Zeid, deeming that he, as the prophet's adopted son and most devoted follower, might have some influence in obtaining Dumah's release.

Zeid sat in a low, airy apartment, through whose many open windows a cool breeze entered. By him sat his newly-wedded wife, unveiled, for at that time the rules in regard to veiling were not so strictly insisted upon as at a later day, when the prophet's decree against the unveiling of women was more rigorously enforced.

Even Yusuf noted her marvelous beauty. There was a peculiarity of action, a something familiar about her, too, which gave him a hazy recollection of having seen her before; but not for several moments did the association come up in his memory, and he saw again the little Jewish home of Nathan in Mecca, the dim light, and the beautiful child whose temples Nathan's wife was so tenderly bathing. Yes, after the lapse of years, in a flash he knew her for Zeinab!

She listened with interest to the tale of the Jewish singer; but there was a heartlessness in her air, and a certain contempt in the look which she bent upon the Christian who was thus making intercession for an unworthy Jew.

"I have neither eyes to see, tongue to speak, nor hands to act, save as the prophet is pleased to direct me," was Zeid's reply, in the most determined tone.

Yusuf, seeing no hope, left the house, and shortly afterwards Zeid, too, went down into the town. Scarcely had he left when Mohammed entered.

Zeinab was still at the window, which opened directly on the courtyard. A myrtle bush grew near, and she listlessly plucked some of the white blossoms and twined them in the braids of her glossy black hair. She wore a loose gown of sky-blue silk with a drape of crimson, and deep pointed sleeves of filmy, white lace. Her veil was cast aside, and when the prophet entered she turned her magnificent dark eyes, with their shading of kohl, full upon him.

Ever susceptible to the influence of beauty, he exclaimed, "Praise be God, who turneth the hearts of men as he pleaseth!" And he at once coveted her for his wife; although according to law she bore the relation of daughter to him.

He intimated his desire to Ali, who, in turn, broke the news to Zeid. Zeid returned pale and trembling to his home. He loved his wife deeply; yet his devotion to the prophet and the sense of obligation which he owed him as foster-father, for having freed him from servitude, appealed to him strongly. Bowing his head upon his wife's knee, he wept.

"Why do you weep, Zeid?" she asked.

"Alas!" he cried, "could one who has known thee as wife forbear to weep at having thee leave him?"

"But I will never leave my Zeid."

"Not even to become the wife of the prophet?"

"Mohammed does not want me for his wife," she said quickly.

Zeid sighed. "Could you be happy were you his wife?" he asked.

The beauty's ambitious spirit rose, but she only said: "Were I made his wife, it would be the will of Allah."

Zeid pushed her gently from him, and went out. "Mohammed," he said, seating himself at the prophet's feet, "you care for Zeinab. I come to offer her to you. Obtain for your poor Zeid a writ of divorce."

The prophet's face showed his satisfaction. "I could never accept such a sacrifice," he said, hesitatingly.

"My life, my all, even to my beloved wife, belongs to my master," returned Zeid. "His pleasure stands to me before aught else."

"So be it, then, most faithful," said the prophet. "O Zeid, my more than son, a glorious reward is withheld for you."

Then, as ever, a revelation of the Koran came seasonably ere another day, to remove every impediment to the union of Mohammed and Zeinab.

"But when Zeid had determined the matter concerning her, and had resolved to divorce her, we joined her in marriage unto thee, lest a crime should be charged on the true believers in marrying the wives of their adopted sons: and the command of God is to be performed. No crime is to be charged on the prophet as to what God hath allowed him."

There were those in Medina who resented Mohammed's selfishness in thus appropriating Zeinab to himself, and there were those who questioned the honor of such a proceeding; but this questioning went on mostly among the few Bedouin adherents who had flocked into the town in his service, for the most sacred oath of the highest class of Bedouins has long been, "By the honor of my women!"

In none did the prophet's action inspire more disgust than in our two friends, Yusuf and Amzi. Amzi had long since lost all faith in the prophet as a divine representative; and this marriage with Zeinab only confirmed his distrust.

"Pah!" he said to Yusuf, "he not only lets his own impulses sway him, but he uses the sanction of heaven to authorize the satisfaction of every desire, no matter who is trampled upon in the proceeding. Was there ever such sacrilege?"

Yusuf returned: "For this I am thankful, brother: that you at last apply the term 'sacrilege' to the claims of this impostor."

"Think you he is no longer in earnest at all for the raising of his countrymen from idolatry?"

"He seeks to throw down idols, but to raise himself in their stead. Cupidity and ambition, Amzi, have well-nigh smothered every struggling seed of good in Mohammed's haughty bosom."

"Do you not think that, at the beginning, he imagined himself inspired?"

"Mohammed is strangely visionary. At the beginning he, doubtless, thought he saw visions, but, if the man thinks himself inspired now, he is mad."

"Yet what a personality he has!" said Amzi, musingly. "What a charm he bears! How his least word is sufficient to move this crowd of howling fanatics!"

"A man who might be an angel of light, were he truly under divine guidance," returned Yusuf. "And, mark me, Amzi, his influence will not stop with this generation. The influence of every man on God's earth goes on ever-rolling, ever-unceasing, down the long tide of eternity; but, in every age, there are those who, like Mohammed, possess such an individuality, such a personality, that their power goes on increasing, crashing like the avalanche down my native mountains."

"How eloquently such a thought appeals to right impulse, right action!" said Amzi, thoughtfully. "Did a man realize its import fully, he would surely be spurred on to act, not to sit idly letting the world drift by."

"'No man liveth unto himself,'" said Yusuf slowly. "Whether we will it or not, we are each of us ever exerting some influence for good or for ill upon those with whom we come in contact. No one can be neutral. Acts often speak in thunder-tones, when mere words are heard but in whispers."

"I fear me, Yusuf," said the Meccan, with a half-smile, "that Amzi has neither thundered in action, nor even whispered in words. So little good has he done, that he almost hates to think of your great influence theory."

Yusuf smiled and slipped his arm about the Meccan's shoulder. "Amzi, the name of 'benevolent' belies your words," he said. "Think you that your home duties faithfully performed, your pure and upright life, pass for naught?"

"You would stand aghast, Yusuf," returned Amzi, "if I told you the amount of time that I have squandered, simply in dreaming, smoking, and taking my ease."

"Time is a precious gift," replied Yusuf, "it flows on and on as a great river towards the sea, and never returns. It appears to me, every day, more clearly as the talent given to all men to be used rightly. I, as well as you, have let precious hours pass, and, in doing so, we have both done wrong. Yet I pray that we may every day see, more and more, the necessity of well occupying the hours,--'redeeming the time, because the days are evil.'"

"Would that I had your decision of purpose, your firmness of will!" said Amzi, wistfully. "Yusuf, it would be impossible for me to spend all my time as you do,--visiting, relieving, studying, speaking ever the word in season, and ever working for others. I should miss my _kaif_."

"Even if you know it was in the cause of the Lord?" asked Yusuf, with gentle reproof. "Yet, Amzi, you have done as much as I, considering your opportunities. The great thing is to do faithfully whatever comes to one's hand, whether that be great or small. Know you not that it was said to him who had received only two talents, 'Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things.' As bright crowns await the humble home-workers as the great movers of earth, provided all be done 'as unto the Lord.'"

"But," returned Amzi, impatiently, "my 'good works,' as you call them, have not been done 'as unto the Lord.' My charities have been done simply because the sight of misery caused me to feel unhappy. I felt pity for the wretched, and in relieving them set my own mind at ease, and gave satisfaction to myself. I feel that it is right to do certain things, and so I do them under a sense of moral obligation."

"Then," said Yusuf, "has this acting under a sense of moral obligation brought you perfect satisfaction, perfect rest?"

"Frankly, it has not."

Yusuf rose, and, placing both hands on Amzi's shoulders, said earnestly: "My friend, who can say that every good impulse of man may not be an outcome of the divine nature implanted in him by the Creator, and which, if watered and developed, will surely burst into the flower of goodness when once the influence of God's Spirit is fully recognized and ever invoked? Amzi, you have many such seeds of innate good. Your very longings for good, your tone of late, show me that you are near this blessed recognition. Why will you not believe? Why will you not embrace the Lord Jesus Christ? We are all weak of ourselves, but we have strength in him. Amzi, my friend, pray for yourself."

He turned abruptly and left Amzi alone, to ponder long and earnestly over the conversation of the past hour.