The Mercy of Allah

In the days of Abd-er-Rahman, who was among the wisest and most glorious of the commanders of the faithful, there resided in the city of Baghdad an elderly merchant of such enormous wealth that his lightest expressions of opinion caused the markets of the Euphrates to fluctuate in the most alarming manner.

This merchant, whose name was Mahmoud, had a brother in the middle ranks of society, a surgeon by profession, and by name El-Hakim. To this brother he had frequently expressed a fixed determination to leave him no wealth of any kind. “It is my opinion,” he would say, “that a man’s first duty is to his own children, and though I have no children myself, I must observe the general rule.” He was fond of dilating upon this subject whenever he came across his relative, and would discover from time to time new and still better reasons for the resolution he had arrived at. His brother received with great courtesy the prospect held out to him by the wealthy merchant; but one day, finding tedious the hundredth repetition of that person’s pious but somewhat wearisome resolve, said to him:

“Mahmoud, though it would be a mean and even an impious thing to expect an inheritance from you to any of my seven sons, yet perhaps you will allow these boys to receive from your lips some hint as to the manner in which you have accumulated that great wealth which you now so deservedly enjoy.”

“By all means,” said Mahmoud, who was ever ready to describe his own talents and success.

“I had already reached my seventeenth year when my father, who had carefully watched the trend of my nature and the use to which I had put my faculties, addressed me as follows:

“ ‘Mahmoud, I wish you no ill. I have so far fed and clothed you because the caliph (whom Allah preserve!) has caused those who neglect their younger offspring to be severely beaten upon the soles of their feet. It is now my intention to send you about your business. I propose’⁠—and here my dear father pulled out a small purse⁠—‘to give you the smallest sum compatible with my own interests, so that if any harm befall you, the vigilant officers of the crown cannot ascribe your disaster to my neglect. I request that you will walk in any direction you choose so only that it be in a straight line away from my doors. If, when this your patrimony is spent, you make away with yourself I shall hold you to blame; I shall be better pleased to hear that you have sold yourself into slavery or in some other way provided for your continued sustenance. But what I should like best would be never to hear of you again.’ With those words my father (your grandfather, dear boys), seizing me by the shoulders, turned my back to his doors and thrust me forth with a hearty kick the better to emphasize his meaning.

“ ‘This is indeed well found!’ exclaimed the old man, with enthusiasm. ‘I am myself seeking for someone to whom I may sell a magnificent collection of pearls inherited from my great-grandmother, an Indian begum. The old woman,’ he added nonchalantly enough, ‘was a miser; she kept the drops higgledy-piggledy in an old cedarwood box, and I confess myself quite ignorant of their value. Moreover, as I have taken a liking to you, I shall let you fix your own price, for I should much like to remember when my time comes that I had helped a friendless man in his first step to fortune; only, I am a little ashamed to appear to be making money out of an heirloom!’

“While the old gentleman so spoke I was rapidly revolving in my mind what motive he could have for such an affection of indifference to wealth, when I recollected that he was the chief magistrate of the city, and immediately concluded that these pearls, being the property of local people, and obtained by him for nothing by way of bribes and other legal channels, he would both desire to have them sold at a distance and would let them go cheap.

“ ‘Nay,’ continued he, seeing that I hesitated as these thoughts occurred to me, ‘I will take no denial. For me it is but a mere riddance, and for you a most excellent bargain. Come, I trust your honest face and youthful candour. You shall take them at your own price! And I will even advise you of the city of India where you will find your best market.’

“ ‘Such a case as yours would appear first in the Court of Sweetmeats.’

“ ‘Of Sweetmeats?’ said I.

“ ‘It is an old term,’ said he. ‘We love these historic traditions.’

“ ‘Exactly,’ I answered humbly.

“ ‘Well, it would appear, I say, in the Court of Sweetmeats.’

“ ‘Yes,’ said I.

“ ‘After it had gone to the Court of Sweetmeats, it would almost certainly be transferred to the Court of Wrecks, Lighthouses and Divorce, or to the Department of Wills.’

“ ‘Indeed?’ said I.

“ ‘It is so,’ said the scrivener. ‘Whichever of these dealt with it, an appeal would lie, of course, to a superior court, which is generally known as the Court of Mules.’

“ ‘Why is⁠ ⁠…’ I began.

“ ‘Oh, sir!’ interrupted the scrivener, with some impatience, ‘these things are immaterial! We must use such historic names.⁠ ⁠… From this court again the appeal would lie, of course, to His Majesty in council, which is the supreme authority of the land.’