[Illustration: (Calligraphy) _Upon him, Mohammad, Salvation._]
THE LIFE OF
MOHAMMAD
THE PROPHET
OF ALLAH
_"The man's words were not false..._
_a fiery mass of Life cast-up from_
_the great bosom of Nature herself."_
("_On Heroes_," by THOMAS CARLYLE,
London, 1841.)
THIS WORK IS ISSUED
IN A STRICTLY LIMITED EDITION
OF 125 COPIES
ON IMPERIAL JAPANESE VELLUM
WITH AN EXTRA SUITE OF THE PLATES
AND 875 COPIES
ON HAND-MADE PAPER.
NO. 499
[Illustration: (Ornamental page) Frontispiece]
"_In the name_
_of Allah!_
_the Compassionate_
_the Merciful_"
HISTORY
OF THE
PROPHECY
"_Upon His Hero_
_(Mohammad),_
_boundless veneration."_
[Illustration: (Calligraphy) _There is no God but Allah, and Mohammad
is the Prophet of Allah._]
THE LIFE OF
MOHAMMAD
THE PROPHET OF ALLAH
BY
E. DINET and SLIMAN BEN IBRAHIM
ILLUSTRATED BY
E. DINET
ORNAMENTAL PAGES BY MOHAMMAD RACIM
PARIS
THE PARIS BOOK CLUB, 11, RUE DE CHATEAUDUN
THIS
WORK
IS DEDICATED
BY THE AUTHOR-PAINTER
AND HIS ARAB COLLABORATOR
TO THE MEMORY OF THE VALIANT MOSLEM SOLDIERS
PARTICULARLY THOSE OF FRANCE AND ENGLAND
WHO, IN THE SACRED CAUSE OF
RIGHT, JUSTICE AND HUMANITY
HAVE PIOUSLY SACRIFICED
THEIR LIVES IN
THE GREAT WAR
OF THE
NATIONS
PREFACE
_An existence, so full of stirring events as that of the Prophet
Mohammad, cannot be described by us in all its details. As there are
limits to all books, we have had to rest content with a selection of
the most important episodes, so that each might be developed as we
deemed necessary. Thus we present to the reader a series of pictures
and not a complete history._
_Our scaffolding and sketches are borrowed from very ancient authors
such as Ibn Hisham, Ibn Sad, etc., without forgetting a more modern
writer, Ali Borhan id-Din Al-Halabi who, in his book known by the
title of "Es Sirat'al Halabia," gathered together different versions
from all the best-known historians. An incontestable proof of their
veracity, in our opinion, is that these narratives, some dating as far
back as twelve centuries, fit in perfectly with the manners, customs,
hopes and language of the Moslems of the desert; those who at the
present day, by their mode of living, are more akin to the Arabs of
the Hijaz among whom Mohammad accomplished his Mission._
_These remarks will serve to warn the reader that in this work will be
found none of those learned paradoxes destined to destroy traditions,
such sophisms delighting modern Orientalists by reason of their love
of novelty._
_The study of innovations introduced in this way into the Prophet's
history has caused us to note that they were often prompted by
feelings inimical to Islam which were not only out of place in
scientific research, but were also unworthy of our epoch. As displayed
by their authors, they generally denoted strange ignorance of Arab
customs, notwithstanding that these commentaries were accompanied by
considerable erudition, although too bookish. In order to refute such
new-fangled assertions, it was enough to check each in turn. Being so
contradictory, one killed the other. Their extreme improbabilities,
from the standpoint of Oriental psychology, only served to enhance
with still greater clarity the perfect likelihood of those traditions
sanctioned in the world of Islam._
_We have been guided by them. We have been satisfied to choose those
that seemed most characteristic, setting each in its proper place,
thanks to information gleaned in long interviews with pilgrims
visiting the Holy Cities of the Hijaz, while reviewing these episodes
in the light of our experience of Moslem life, in the Great Desert of
Sahara, where one of us two had lived from birth and the other for the
last thirty years and more._
_In strict agreement with the Qur'an, the only indisputable book
according to the Moslem Doctors of the earliest times and those imbued
with the modern liberal spirit, such as the celebrated Shaikh Abdu, we
have put aside all the posthumous miracles attributed to the Arab
Prophet and which only serve to blur his true physiognomy._
_Among all the Prophets founders of religions, Mohammad is the only
one who, relying solely on the evidence shown by his Mission and the
divine eloquence of the Qur'an, was able to do without the assistance
of miracles, thus performing the greatest of all--the one which Ernest
Renan, forgetting his example, declared to be utterly impossible. "The
greatest miracle," said he, speaking of Jesus Christ, "would have been
if he had wrought not any. Never would the laws of history and popular
psychology have been more violently infringed."_
_On the other hand, we have taken care not to turn a deaf ear to tales
in legendary shape. A legend, and above all, an Oriental legend, is an
incomparable means of expression. It serves to paint mere facts in
lasting colours and make them stand out in bold relief, far removed
from the icy and so-called impartial account of an up-to-date
reporter._
_Our readers, enlightened by the foregoing warning, must therefore not
let themselves be the victims of the numerous errors committed by
Hellenism, Latinism and Scholasticism, when interpreting "literally"
the sacred books of the East, while beneath seeming magic allegories
scattered here and there in this narrative, will easily be discerned
realities, poetically transposed, but not at all disfigured by the
imagination of the Arabs._
_With still more reason, the Qur'an should be read in the same way,
for is it not written:_ "God setteth forth these similitudes to men
that haply they may be admonished." (THE QUR'AN, XIV, 30.)
_It may also seem strange that in the illustrations accompanying the
text, no portrait of the Prophet will be found, nor any picturing of
events in which he figured as the hero._
_And this is why: being sincere Moslems, we do not want to run counter
to the true principles of Islam, far less hostile than is supposed to
the portrayal of mortals' faces, but strictly forbidding the image of
the Divinity, considered to be rank blasphemy leading to idolatry more
or less disguised. To represent the likenesses of the Prophets is to
belittle them inevitably and sacrilegiously._
_And after all, in the eyes of the Believer, what does the prim effigy
of one of God's messengers on earth, however marvellously painted,
look like in comparison with the sublime idea that the mind of the
Faithful creates, under the influence of fervid faith? This has been
so well understood by certain Persian painters of miniatures, that,
having to sketch Mohammad in the varied phases of his nocturnal
ascension, they veiled his face entirely, because they found
themselves powerless to picture it, and feared also to impair features
so revered. There is no greater proof of their intention than the
meticulous care with which in the same pictures all other faces are
treated, including that of Buraq, the winged steed with the head of a
human being; and also the lineaments of the angels in the celestial
procession._
_In place, therefore, of an imaginary portrait and necessarily
falsified drawings, we have adopted a more indirect style of
illustration, but by its means we hope to have succeeded in evoking a
few lights and shadows, undoubtedly emanating from the superman who
came into the world at Makkah (Mecca)._
_His features, solely known by the descriptions of those who penned
his history, appear to us dimly through a gauzy veil of dreamland that
we shall not try to rend asunder, for behind this mysterious filmy
mask, the sacred lineaments will enjoy the rare and precious advantage
of not having been spoilt, like so many others, by impossible attempts
of pictorial reconstitution. On the other hand, his ways and doings
have been brought down to our own times, with religious fidelity, by
three hundred millions of disciples, scattered all over the earth's
surface._
_The constant thought of all Moslems, of whatever race, is to imitate
in everything, in the most humble as well as in the highest, of life's
functions, the habits of the Prophet whose image is engraved in their
hearts. And this is so true, that simply by the way in which he washes
his hands, the difference can be seen between an Arab Moslem and an
Arab Christian._
_Looking upon true Believers going to and fro, we consequently view
the movements of Mohammad. It is but a pale reflection, but
nevertheless incontestably authentic; whereas, despite the perfection
of their statues, the Roman Emperors can only offer to us their limbs
and faces, stiffened in attitudes of awkward pride; remaining as
corpses that our imagination is powerless to resuscitate._
_Impressed by these facts, we had the idea of illustrating this
history of Mohammad by picturing the religious doings of his
disciples; a few scenes of Arab life, and views of the Hijaz, his
native land._
[Illustration: (Ornamental page) CHAPTER THE FIRST ]
[Illustration: _Praying round the Sacred Temple of the Ka'bah of
Mekka._]
[Illustration: (Calligraphy) _In the name of Allah, the Compassionate,
the Merciful._ ]
CHAPTER THE FIRST
[Sidenote: THE MOSLEM PRAYER]
A rosy ray lit up the horizon; the stars paled, and a voice cried out
in cadence, in the silence of dawn:
"_Allah is the greatest! There is no God but Allah, and Mohammad is
the Prophet of Allah! Come and pray! Come to Salvation!_"
High up above the flat housetops and the palm-trees of the oasis, the
last notes of the Muazzin's call, wafted from the balcony of the
slender minaret, died away in the infinite space of the Desert....
Mohammedans who were still slumbering, enwrapped in the white folds of
their shroud-like mantles, sprung to their feet with a start, like
dead men coming to life. They hurried to fountains where they
performed their ablutions; and then, with clean skins and pure
thoughts, they gathered together in long processions, elbow to elbow,
all turned in one direction: that of the Holy Ka'bah of Makkah
(Mecca).
Standing erect, heads slightly bent, eyes downcast, perfectly still in
the long folds of their garments, they seemed as if metamorphosed into
a crowd of statues. Following the example of the Imam, in front of
them, but in the same direction, and announcing each phase of the
prayer by the Takbir: "_Allah is the greatest!_" they all lifted their
open hands on a level with their foreheads, to bear witness to their
ecstasy in the presence of the Almighty power of the Master of the
Worlds. Then, every man made the same movement, bending their backs
and bowing low before the throne of His Supreme Majesty.
But this did not suffice to express all the humility of their souls,
so they dropped to the ground and prostrated themselves, piously
pressing their faces against the earth. For a few moments they
remained in this supplicating posture, as if crushed by the weight of
the entire firmament which might have been prostrated with them.
They held up their heads at last and rose to a sitting posture, both
knees on the ground, their heads bowed under the burden of their
fervour. The prayer terminated by salutation, accompanied by the face
being turned first to the right, then to the left, addressed to the
two recording angels who unceasingly attend every true Believer.
Generally, however, the Faithful who ask nothing from Allah, not even
their daily bread, remain a little longer on their knees, and placing,
breast-high, their open palms under their eyes, as if reading a book,
they implore Divine Mercy for the salvation of their souls, for their
relatives, and for Islam.
Only a few parts of the Prayer: the Takbir, the Fatihah and the final
salutation are loudly intoned by the Imam. The congregation pray
inwardly; the Takbir alone is murmured in whispers that are barely
audible.
Such half-silence enhances the grandeur of their gestures, so
expressive and simple, in which dignity is closely allied to humility;
and being totally devoid of affectation, constitutes the most poignant
display of adoration imaginable.
Every day, each time the rays of the sun change colour: at rosy dawn;
flaming noon; during gilded sunset, when it descends below the horizon
in all the yellow sadness of its disappearance; and at the moment it
is enshrouded in the blue veiling of night, not only in the Mosques,
but also in the houses and streets, in _cafés_ and market-places, in
the country or the desert, all Moslems, alone or grouped together,
wherever they may be, without needing to be called by the Muazzin or
led by the Imam, are bound to stop short in their work and even
interrupt their trend of thought, for a few minutes, thus glorifying
the Benefactor.
For more than thirteen centuries, from the Atlantic's African shore as
far as the Chinese coast-line of the Pacific, more than two hundred
millions of the Faithful turn five times daily in the direction of the
Holy Ka'bah of Makkah; their millions of prayers being garnered there
to be offered up to the Most High, bearing witness to the undying
gratitude of the souls of Islam.
[Sidenote: DESCRIPTION OF MAKKAH (_Mecca_)]
This mysterious town, upon which the aspirations of so many human
beings close in, was almost unknown in ancient times. What is it like?
Is it one of those cities, picturesquely situated, where ostentatious
kings built splendid palaces, accumulating therein all the treasures
of creation? Is it one of those vast commercial boroughs dominating
land and sea routes to which the riches and produce of the universe
came in abundance? Or was it an extensive imperial capital whose
valiant warriors bent neighbouring peoples beneath their yoke?
Makkah has nothing in common with all this, being established in one
of the most arid and forsaken spots on earth; and in olden times its
only commerce consisted in desert caravan traffic, so that it was
neither rich nor powerful. Nevertheless, many opulent towns are
jealous of its glory, for it shelters in its midst the Holy Temple of
the Ka'bah, besides being the birthplace of Our Lord Mohammad, the
Prince of Prophets!
In our own times, despite gifts brought from the furthermost corners
of the world by the hundred thousand pilgrims who come each year to
prostrate themselves in its temple, Makkah, "The Mother of Cities," by
the splendour of its palaces and mosques, cannot vie with any great
capital. In the eyes of the True Believers, its treasures are radiant
with incomparable brilliancy, but which is not terrestrial.
As a matter of fact, the aspect of Makkah--"Allah's Delight"--is no
different from other Arab desert centres. There are more numerous and
loftier dwellings, better decorated than in general, but its
characteristics, on the whole, are unchanged.
From the top of the Jabal Abi-Kubeis which dominates it on the eastern
side, it can be viewed stretching from north to south in a narrow
valley. At first, it seems to form part of the earth on which it
stands, because the bare and rocky mountains surrounding it are not
separated from these heights by any oasis or verdant strip, and the
terrace-roofs of the houses do not stand out from the heaps of stony
fragments that have rolled down from the crags. The spectator's eyes
gradually get used to the landscape and pick out architectural lines;
mysterious entrances to dwellings; lace-work of tall, straight
minarets; and then, astonished at the sudden apparition of a big town
that he never thought was there, he sees it, as in a kind of mirage,
increasing excessively. Now it is the turn of the rocks to look as if
changed into houses; hills becoming immense suburbs extending
boundlessly.
If, in this chaos of sharply-outlined shapes, it is difficult for the
eye to distinguish dwellings from steep rocks; one cannot fail to be
startled at once by the strange aspect of a great cube of masonry,
built up in the middle of a spacious quadrangular courtyard and veiled
by black silk, shining in violent contrast to the dull tints of the
entire sun-scorched landscape.
This black cube is the Holy Ka'bah, the veritable heart of Islam, and
like so many veins bringing blood to the heart to vivify the body, all
the prayers of Islam flow towards this Temple to vivify souls. It is
the only spot on earth where Moslems, when adoring the Eternal, can
meet face to face.
[Sidenote: THE TEMPLE OF THE KA'BAH AND THE BLACK STONE]
The Ka'bah is not the tomb of the Prophet, nor an object to be
worshipped, as many Europeans imagine. It is a temple called "Beit
Allah al Haram" (the Holy House of Allah), and its origin can be
traced to the most distant days of antiquity.
According to the Arab tradition, it was built by Adam, the father of
the human race. Destroyed by the Flood, it was rebuilt on the same
foundations, by the Prophet Abraham, with the help of his son,
Ishmael, the ancestor of the Arabs. Since then, often repaired, but
retaining the same lines and proportions, the Ka'bah became the goal
of Arab pilgrims flocking to adore Allah, the Only One, and perform
seven ritual circuits instituted by their forefathers under the title
of "Tawaf."
Little by little, the worship of Allah, the Only One, having
degenerated in the memory of the pilgrims who added the practice of
idolatry, Mohammad was sent to destroy the three hundred and sixty
images they adored.
In the east angle of the monument is incrusted the famous black stone
"Hajaru'l-Aswad", framed in a silver circle.
This stone, which came down from Paradise, was brought by the angel
Jibra'il (Gabriel) to Abraham and his son, during the rebuilding of
the Temple, and they placed it where it is still to be seen this day,
in order to serve pilgrims as a starting-point for their ritual
circuits. Primitively as white as milk, its present characteristic
ebony tint is due to the pollution of the sins of the pilgrims who
came to touch and kiss it, while imploring the Merciful to pardon
them.
Close to the Ka'bah is the well of Zamzam. Its miraculous water gushed
forth from the earth to save Ishmael from the tortures of thirst when
lost in the desert with his mother, Hajar (Hagar). Neglected by the
Arab tribes, in the dark Days of Ignorance, it became choked up by
sand and was dug anew by Abdul Muttalib, a few years before the birth
of Mohammad. The water, ever since, is revered by pilgrims who use it
for drinking purposes and for their ablutions, thereby sanctifying
themselves by the remembrance of their ancestors.
The two functions of "Siqayah," (Management of Water Supply), and of
"Hajaba," (Superintendence of the Ka'bah) were posts greatly sought
after on account of their prerogatives. At the epoch at which our
story begins, they were both united in the hands of Abdul Muttalib bin
Hashem, of the Quraish tribe, the grandfather of the future Prophet.
[Sidenote: THE MARRIAGE OF ABDULLAH, FATHER OF THE PROPHET]
One day, Abdul Muttalib, custodian of the Ka'bah, set forth from the
Sanctuary, his favourite son, Abdullah, holding his hand.
On the threshold of the temple was seated Quotila, a woman of the Bani
Asad tribe. On catching sight of the lad, she started to her feet,
evincing sudden surprise. She stared at him with strange persistence,
because she was fascinated by a supernatural light that radiated from
his brow. 'Whither art thou going?' she called to him.--'To where my
father leadeth me.'--'Stop and listen to me. I offer thee a hundred
camels, being as many as thy father was bound to sacrifice to save thy
life, if thou wilt consent to throw thyself upon me, now at once.'--'I
am in my father's company and cannot disobey him, nor leave him,'
replied Abdullah, petrified at such shamelessness, especially in the
presence of such a respectable person as Abdul Muttalib.
The young man turned away, filled with confusion, and rejoined Abdul
Muttalib who took him to the house of Wahb ibn Abdi Manaf, whose
daughter the Superintendent of the Well thought would make a good wife
for his boy.
Wahb was one of the chieftains of the Bani Zahrah tribe and Abdul
Muttalib being numbered among the princes of the Quraish, a most noble
tribe, an alliance between two such authentically aristocratic
families would be easily brought about and so the marriage of
Abdullah, with Aminah, daughter of Wahb, took place without further
loss of time.
Abdullah went off with his bride to the dwelling of Abu Talib, his
uncle. There the marriage was consummated during the young couple's
sojourn of three days and three nights. When the newly-married young
man went out of the house, he came face to face again with Quotila,
the woman who had previously hailed him with such lack of decency and
he was surprised at her complete indifference as she saw him pass by.
Abdullah was considered to be the handsomest youth in Makkah. His
manly bearing had aroused the sensual passions of most of the women of
the city to such an extent that, when his marriage was announced, they
fell ill by dint of jealousy and disappointment. Quotila, however, was
not a victim to vulgar lust, being the sister of Waraqah ibn Taufal,
the learned man renowned throughout Arabia for his knowledge of the
Sacred Books. From him she had learnt how, in that part of the
country, a Prophet was about to come into the world, whose father
would be known by rays of light illuminating his face with a pearly or
starry sheen. This sign she had detected on the brow of Abdullah, and
was haunted by the ambitious desire of becoming the mother of the
coming Apostle. Her hopes dashed to the ground, she no longer heeded
Abdullah, notwithstanding his good looks.
Knowing nothing of all this, he felt hurt at her indifference,
following so quickly on her great ardour. 'How comes it that thou dost
not ask me again for what thou hungered for but a little while ago?'
he asked Quotila.--'Who art thou?' she replied.--'I am Abdullah bin
Abdul Muttalib.'--'Art thou the stripling whose brow seemed to me to
be surrounded with a luminous aureola which has now disappeared? What
hath befell thee, since we first met?'
He apprised her of his marriage, and Quotila guessed that the radiance
surrounding the future Prophet had passed away from the forehead of
Abdullah into the womb of Aminah, his wife.--'By Allah, I made no
mistake!' she told him. 'On thy brow I discovered the pure light that
I would have dearly liked to possess in the depths of my body. But now
it belongeth to another who will be delivered of "The Best Among
Created Beings," and there remaineth naught of thee that I care for.'
Thus it came about that Abdullah, by the words that fell from the lips
of this learned woman, got to hear of his wife's pregnancy and the
future in store for his son. Abdullah did not live long enough to
have the happiness of knowing his offspring, for Mohammad's father
died at Yasrib two months before Aminah was delivered.
Aminah, mother of Allah's Chosen One, spoke thus:
"Since the day I carried my son in my womb, until I brought him forth,
I never suffered the least pain. I never even felt his weight and
should not have known the state I was in, if it had not been that
after I conceived and was about to fall asleep, an angel appeared to
me, saying: 'Dost thou not see that thou art pregnant with the Lord of
thy Nation; the Prophet of all thy people? Know it full well.' At the
same instant, a streak of light, darting out of my body, went up
northwards--yea, even unto the land of Syria.
"When the day of my deliverance came due, the angel appeared to me
again and gave me a warning: 'When thou shalt bring forth thy child
into the world, thou must utter these words: 'For him I implore the
protection of Allah, the Only One, against the wickedness of the
envious,' and thou shalt call him by the name of Mohammad which means
The Lauded, as he is announced in the Taurat and the Injil, for he
will be lauded by all the inhabitants of Heaven and Earth.'"
When the planet Al-Moushtari passed, a line of light darted for the
second time from Aminah's body in the direction of faraway Syria and
it illuminated the palace of the town of Busra. At the same time,
other prodigies astonished the world: the Lake Sowa suddenly dried up;
a violent earthquake made the palace of Chosroes the Great tremble,
and shattered fourteen of its towers; the Sacred Fire, kept alight for
more than a thousand years, went out, in spite of the exertions of its
Persian worshippers, and all the idols of the universe were found with
their heads bowed down in great shame.
All these portents caused fear in the hearts of those who witnessed
them; but, despite the predictions of Al Moudzenab, the Parsee
sorcerer, who had been warned in a dream that a great upheaval in the
destiny of the universe would be caused by an event to take place in
Arabia, the occurrence was unperceived: the birth of a child of the
Quraish tribe at Makkah, a tiny town lost in the midst of the
wilderness, unknown to the gorgeous monarchs of East and West alike,
or else despised by them.
[Illustration: Calligraphy: _Then when ye have ended the prayer, make
mention of Allah, standing, and sitting, and reclining._]
[Illustration: (Ornamental page) CHAPTER THE SECOND]
[Illustration: _The Night of the Maulid, the Prophet's Birth day._
_Moslems leaving a village Mosque._]
[Illustration: (Calligraphy) _Have We not opened thy breast for thee?
* And taken off from thee thy burden?_]
CHAPTER THE SECOND
[Sidenote: THE BIRTH OF MOHAMMAD]
Our Lord Mohammad (May Allah shower His Blessings upon Him and grant
Him Salvation!) was born a few seconds before the rising of the
Morning Star, on a Monday, the twelfth day of the month Rabi-ul-Awwal
of the first year of the Era of the Elephant. (August 29th, A.D. 570).
When he came into the world, he was devoid of all pollution,
circumcised naturally and the umbilical cord had been cut by the hand
of the angel Jibra'il. The atmosphere of the city being fatal to
infants, the leading citizens were in the habit of confiding their
children to Bedouin wet-nurses who brought them up in their
Badya-land, where dwelt the Bedouins, or nomads. Shortly after the
birth of Mohammad, about a dozen women belonging to the tribe of the
Bani Sad, all bronzed by the bracing breezes of their country, arrived
at Makkah, to seek nurslings. Upon one of them devolved the honour of
suckling the Prophet of Allah. And she was Halimah, signifying "The
Gentle".
[Sidenote: MOHAMMAD'S CHILDHOOD WITH THE BANI SAD TRIBE IN THEIR BADYA
LAND]
Quoth Halimah bint Zuib: "It was a barren year, and both my husband,
Haris bin Abdul Ozza and myself, were plunged in dire distress. We
made up our minds to go to Makkah where I purposed to seek a
foster-child whose grateful parents would help us out of our miserable
plight. We joined a caravan where there were many women of our tribe,
bound likewise on the same errand.
"The she-ass I was riding was so thin and exhausted by privation that
she came nigh upon breaking down on the road and we did not get a wink
of sleep all night by reason of our poor child being tortured by the
pangs of hunger. Neither in my breasts, nor in the udder of a female
camel driven by my husband, did there remain one drop of milk to
relieve my baby's pain.
"All sleepless as I was, I fell a prey to despair. In my parlous
state, could I hope to take charge of a suckling?
"Lagging far behind the caravan, we arrived in Makkah at last, but all
the new-born babes had already been allotted to the other women,
except one child and that was Mohammad.
"His father being dead and his family far from rich, despite the high
rank it held in Makkah, none of the wet-nurses cared to take charge of
the baby boy.
"We likewise turned away from him at first, but I was full of shame at
thinking I should have to journey back empty-handed, for I feared the
mockery of my friends luckier than I. Besides, my feelings were deeply
stirred when I gazed upon that fine infant, bound to wither away in
the unwholesome air of the town.
"My heart became filled with compassion; I felt my milk welling up
miraculously in my breasts, so I said to my husband: 'I swear by Allah
that I have a good mind to adopt that orphan boy, notwithstanding that
we have but slight hopes of ever earning anything worth talking about
by so doing.'--'I cannot say thou art wrong,' he replied. 'Perhaps
with him, the blessing of Allah may once more favour our tent.'
"Scarcely listening, I could no longer restrain myself and rushed
towards the handsome baby fast asleep. I placed my hand on its pretty
little breast; he smiled and opened his eyes sparkling with light. I
kissed his brow between them. Holding him tightly in my embrace, I
made my way back to where our caravan was encamped. Once there, I
offered him my right breast so that he should enjoy such nourishment
as Allah chose to grant him. To my extreme astonishment, he found
enough milk to satisfy his hunger. I proffered my left breast, but he
refused it, leaving it to his foster-brother, and he always behaved in
like fashion.
"A greater marvel still was when from our she-camel's teats, dried-up
that morning, my husband drew enough milk to appease the hunger that
gnawed my entrails, and for the first time for many a month, the
shades of night brought us refreshing sleep. 'By Allah, O Halimah!'
exclaimed my husband, next day, on awaking, 'thou hast adopted a child
that is verily blessed!'
"With the little boy, I mounted my she-ass who started off at a rapid
pace. She was not long in coming up with my surprised companions and
even trotted in front of them. Thereupon they cried out: 'O Halimah!
pull up thy ass, in order that we may journey home all together. Is
that the same animal you bestrode when we departed?'--'Aye; 'tis she
and no other.'--'Then she is under some spell that we cannot unravel!'
"We reached our tents of the Bani Sad. I know no more arid soil than
ours and our flocks had been mowed down by famine. But we marvelled at
finding them in more thriving condition than during the most
prosperous seasons, and the swollen teats of our ewes yielded more
milk than we knew what to do with.
"Our neighbour's flocks, on the contrary, were in a grievous state and
their masters threw the blame on their shepherds. 'Woe to ye all,
stupid serving-men!' cried the sheep-owners. 'Lead our lambs to graze
with those of Halimah!'
"The men obeyed, but all in vain: the sweet grass that seemed to
spring up out of the earth offering its tender sprigs to our sheep,
withered immediately they were gone on their way.
"Prosperity and blessings remained in our tent unceasingly. Mohammad
attained his second year and it was then I weaned him. His disposition
was truly uncommon. At the age of nine months, he talked in a charming
way with accents that touched all hearts. He was never dirty; nor did
he ever sob or scream, except peradventure when his nakedness chanced
to be seen. If he was uneasy at nights and refused to close his eyes,
I would bring him out of the tent, when he would fix his gaze
immediately with admiration on the stars. He showed great joy, and
when his glances were sated with the sight, he let his eyelids droop
and allowed slumber to claim him."
[Illustration: _Watching over Camels grazing._]
But when he was weaned, Halimah was obliged to take Mohammad back to
his mother who was eager to have him with her. What grief therefore
for the poor wet-nurse! She could not resign herself to such cruel
separation. As soon as she got to Makkah, she threw herself at
Aminah's feet and burst out supplicating as she kissed them. 'See how
the bracing air of the Badya hath profited thy child. Think that those
breezes will do him still greater good now that he is beginning to
walk. Fear the pestilential air of the city! Thou wouldst see him
waste away before thine eyes and remember my words when it was too
late.'
Moved by these touching prayers and thinking only of her son's health,
Aminah stifled her motherly feelings and finished by consenting to let
Halimah take Mohammad back to the Badya. His good-hearted nurse,
buckling him securely to her loins, went off, overjoyed, on the road
leading to her encampment.
Home again at the Badya of the Bani Sad, Mohammad's first footsteps
were printed on the ripple-marked carpet of the immaculate sands,
where he inhaled with welcome nostrils the sweet odours of the
aromatic plants growing on the hillocks. And there it was he slept
under the dark blue tent of the star-studded sky and his chest
expanded, breathing the limpid air of desert nights. He grew strong,
thanks to the healthy, wholesome food of the nomads: milk and cheese,
with unleavened bread baked under hot ashes and, now and again,
camel's flesh or mutton, devoid of the sickening smell of wool-grease
that comes from animals bred in confined stabling.
Such moral and physical well-being, that he owed to the Badya, was of
great help to him, during ordeals later in life. He was always pleased
to recur to his childhood's days. 'Allah granted me two inestimable
favours,' he would often say. 'First came the privilege of being born
in the most noble of all the Arab tribes, the Quraish; secondly, that
of being brought up in the Bani Sad region, the most salubrious of the
entire Hijaz.'
Never were there effaced from his mind those pictures of the desert
which were impressed on his earliest glances when, in company with
other nomadic lads, he would climb to the top of a rock to watch over
a grazing flock.
Notwithstanding, being inclined to dream and meditate, he did not
agree very well with the turbulence and high spirits of the little
Bedouins of his own age, and preferred to hide away from them, and
ramble in solitude not too far from the tents.
[Sidenote: MOHAMMAD AND THE TWO ANGELS]
He went out, one morning, with his foster-brother leading the flocks
of his foster-father to the pasturage.
All of a sudden, about the middle of the day, Mohammad's young
companion went back alone. 'Come hither quickly!' he shouted to his
father and mother, his voice hoarse with affright. 'My brother, the
Quraish, having slipped away from us, according to his wont, two men,
clothed all in white, seized hold of him, threw him on the ground and
split his chest open.'
In mad fear, poor Halimah, followed by her husband, ran as fast as her
legs would carry her, following the road pointed out by the youthful
shepherd. Mohammad was found seated on the top of a hill. He was
perfectly calm, but his face had taken on the sinister tint of the
dust and ashes to which we must all return. They fondled him gently
and put question after question to him. 'What ails thee, O child of
ours? What hath befell thee?'--'While I was intent upon looking after
the grazing sheep,' he replied, 'I saw two white forms appear. At
first, I took them to be two great birds, but as they drew nearer, I
saw my mistake: they were two men clad in tunics of dazzling
whiteness.'--'Is that the boy?' said one of them to his companion,
pointing to me. 'Yea! 'Tis he!' As I stood stupefied with fear, they
seized me; threw me down and cut my breast open. They drew out of my
heart a black clot of blood which they cast far away; and then closing
up my chest, they disappeared like phantoms.'
The words of Allah, in the Qur'an, seem to allude to this incident:
"_Have we not opened thy breast for thee? * And taken off from thee
thy burden. * Which galled thy back?_" (THE QUR'AN, XCIV. 1, 2, 3).
This story, together with many others to be met with in the pages of
this work, must be taken to be a parable, which, in this case,
signifies that Allah opened Mohammad's breast when quite young, so
that the joy of monotheistic truth should penetrate therein and
permeate his being, relieving him of the heavy burden of idol-worship.
Mohammad's foster-parents continued to live in a state of bewilderment
and Haris said to his wife: 'I fear the boy is a prey to falling
sickness, evidently due to spells cast by neighbours, jealous of the
prosperity and the Blessing that the child hath brought into our tent.
But whether possessed by the Evil One who conjured up this
hallucination; or because, on the contrary, the boy's vision is a true
one and pointeth to a glorious future, our responsibility is none the
less heavy. Let us give him back to his family, before his disease
becometh more violent.'
Halimah was regretfully obliged to agree with such wise arguments and,
taking Mohammad with her, she turned in the direction of Makkah.
The boy, now four years of age, walked by her side, and, on the
outskirts of the town, they found themselves in the midst of a great
crowd wending their way to the market or the Temple pilgrimage. Night
had come on. Hustled in the dense throng, Halimah was soon separated
from her foster-son and was unable to find him in the dark, despite
her active search and desperate shouts. Without losing time, she
hurried to apprise Abdul Muttalib, whose high social position made it
easy for him to send out clever men on the track of his grandson,
while he rode on horseback to head the searchers.
In the Tihamah water-course, one of the trackers soon found a child
seated among some shrubs. He was amusing himself by pulling the
branches. 'Who art thou, child?' he was asked. 'I am Mohammad, son of
Abdullah bin Abdul Muttalib.'
Well pleased at having found the boy he was looking for, the man
lifted up the child and carried him to the arms of his grandfather
following behind. Abdul Muttalib embraced Mohammad affectionately, sat
him on the pommel of his saddle in front of him and brought him back
to Makkah. To show his joy, the old man slaughtered some sheep and
distributed their flesh to the poor of the city. Then, taking his
grandson astride on his shoulder, he performed the ritual circuits
round the Ka'bah in token of gratitude.
Accompanied by poor Halimah, now recovered from her anguish, he led
Mohammad into the presence of Aminah, his mother. After she had given
way to the effusive joy of a loving mother, she turned to Halimah:
'What doth this signify? O nurse, thou wast so desirous of keeping my
son by thy side, and now thou dost bring him back to me, all of a
sudden?'--'I considered that he had reached an age when I could do no
more for him than I have done; and fearing unlucky accidents, I bring
him back to thee, knowing how thou wert longing to set eyes on him
again.'
Nevertheless, perplexity and sadness were only too clearly to be read
on the kind nurse's features. Not being deceived by her explanations,
Aminah continued: 'Thou dost hide from me the true motive of thy
return. I wait to hear thee tell the whole truth.'
Halimah then thought it best to repeat what her husband had said, and
Aminah's maternal pride was sorely wounded. 'Can it be that thou art
afraid lest my son should fall a victim to the devil?' she quickly
retorted.--'I confess that such is my fear.'--'Know then that the
demon's wiles are powerless to do him harm, for a glorious destiny is
in store for him.' Aminah made the nurse acquainted with the
marvellous events that had happened during her pregnancy and lying-in.
After having thanked and rewarded Halimah for her devotion, Aminah
kept her child with her, and his health, fortified by life in the open
air, had now nothing to fear from unhealthy conditions of town life.
[Sidenote: AMINAH'S DEATH (_A.D. 576_)]
Under the vigilant eyes of the most loving of mothers, Mohammad grew
up handsome and intelligent; but he was not fated to long enjoy
maternal affection which no other love can equal. On returning from a
journey to Yasrib, whither she had taken him, Aminah died suddenly,
halfway on the road, in the straggling village of Al-Abwa, where she
was buried.
The sorrowing orphan boy, scarce seven years of age, was brought back
to Makkah by a black slave-girl, Umm Aiman; entirely devoted to his
young master and who, including five camels, constituted his sole
inheritance.
He was taken in hand by his grandfather, Abdul Muttalib, who had
always shown him great affection, and the old man's love increased
daily, as he saw the lad growing up more and more like Abdullah, his
father, so much regretted.
The following anecdote gives an idea of Abdul Muttalib's boundless
affection for his grandson:
In Makkah, where the streets are narrow and crooked like those of all
the towns of the desert, there is only one open space of any size--the
square in which stands the Ka'bah, and where, morning and evening, the
citizens gathered together, resting and gossiping about their business
as well as performing their devotions. Not a day passed without the
servants of Abdul Muttalib throwing down a carpet in the Temple's
shade; and round the rug sat his sons, grandsons and the leading
townsmen, awaiting his coming. The respect shown to the Superintendent
of "The House of Allah" was so great, that never did anyone ever dare
to put his foot even on the outer edge of his carpet.
It came to pass one day that young Mohammad took up a position right
in the middle of the revered carpet, scandalising in the highest
degree his uncles who drove him away immediately. But Abdul Muttalib
was coming, and he had witnessed the conflict from afar. 'Let my
grandson go back at once to where he was seated!' he called out. 'He
is the delight of my old age and his great audacity ariseth from the
presentiment he hath of his destiny, for he shall occupy higher rank
than any Arab hath ever attained.'
So saying, he made Mohammad sit by his side and fondled his cheeks and
his shoulders, while in ecstasies at the least thing the boy said or
did.
Again the fates decreed, that Mohammad should be deprived of gentle
love: Abdul Muttalib died at the age of ninety-five, unanimously
regretted by his fellow-citizens.
The unlucky orphan boy was received into the house of his uncle Abu
Talib, who had been chosen for this kind succour by his grandsire, for
the reason that, alone among his uncles, he was the brother of both
the mother and father of Abdullah, Mohammad's father.
[Sidenote: MOHAMMAD'S FIRST JOURNEY IN SYRIA (_A.D. 582_)]
Having a large family and not being very well off, although the
management of the Ka'bah had been bequeathed to him, Abu Talib was
obliged to do business with the lands of Yaman and Syria.
Shortly after sheltering his nephew under his roof, he undertook the
task of organising a caravan of Quraish men, and he was to lead them
back to their tents.
All was in readiness; the loads were shared and divided, corded and
balanced on the pack-saddles of the kneeling camels, grunting
according to their habit. Their drivers began, by dint of blows and
shouts, to force them to rise to their feet and direct their swaying
stride in a northerly direction. This sight caused Mohammad to
remember his beloved Badya, where caravans resembling this one about
to depart passed to and fro continually. Fresh separation, this time
from his beloved uncle, was about to plunge him into the sadness of
solitude. He stood still, gloomy and silent. At last, heartbroken, he
threw himself into Abu Talib's embrace, casting his young arms round
him, and hiding his face in the folds of his uncle's mantle, to
conceal his tears brought on by longing and despair.
Greatly moved by this spontaneous manifestation of affection, and
guessing how ardent was his nephew's wish to accompany him, Abu Talib
declared: 'By Allah! we'll take him with us; he'll not leave me and
I'll not leave him.'
Mohammad dried his tears and, jumping for joy, he busied himself in
hastening the final preparations for the journey. At a sign from his
uncle, he perched himself on the female camel, getting up behind him.
When the caravan began to pass along the tracks made by the Bedouin
tribes, Mohammad's lungs, contracted by breathing the vitiated air of
houses and streets, were deliciously dilated, revelling in liberally
gulping down the life-giving air of the Badya to which he was
accustomed. Being used to a nomadic existence from childhood, the
young traveller was able to support most valiantly the exhausting
privations and terrible fatigue of such an interminable journey in the
midst of the Hijaz deserts.
For more than a year, the countries he passed through were so much
alike in their sands and rocks, that the caravan seemed as if marking
time. In the pitiless desert there was no other sign of life, except
the presence of Him who is everywhere, eternally existant, but not to
be seen by mortal eyes.
[Sidenote: HOW MOHAMMAD MET THE MONK BAHIRA]
On the terrace-roof of a convent perched, like a turban on a tall
man's head, on the top of a steep hill, the lesser chain of the Jabal
Hauran, the most learned monk, Bahira, looked out afar over the Syrian
plains, stretching away in infinite space in the direction of Arabia.
All of a sudden, his attention was drawn to the strange aspect of a
solitary cloud, white and oblong, that stood out in bold relief on the
immaculate blue background of the sky. Like some enormous bird, the
cloud hovered above a small caravan winding its way northwards. The
fleecy mass in the heavens covered the straggling procession with its
azure shade and moved with the line of travellers.
At the foot of the hill on which the monastery was built, the caravan
halted, close to a great tree that grew on the brink of a dried-up
wady, and began to organise the encampment. At that moment, the cloud
stopped still and vanished in the celestial canopy, while the branches
of the tree were bent, as if beneath the gusts of a breeze acting on
those twigs and leaves, at the same time throwing their shade over one
of the caravaneers, as if to protect him from the blazing rays of the
sun. Seeing these prodigies, Bahira guessed that among these wayfarers
coming from the Hijaz, would be found the man he had been awaiting so
long: the Prophet announced by the Sacred Books. So Bahira hurried
down from the flat roof, gave orders to prepare a bountiful meal and
sent a messenger to invite all the folks of the caravan without
exception, young or old, nobles or slaves.
The messenger returned, in company with the men of Makkah whose coming
Bahira awaited on the threshold of his monastery. 'By Lat and Uzza!
thy conduct doth puzzle me, O Bahira!' exclaimed one of the guests.
'Many a time and oft have we passed by the convent; yet, until now
thou hast never heeded us; never didst thou dream of showing us the
least sign of hospitality. What maggot biteth thee this day?'--'Thou
dost not err,' replied Bahira. 'I have cogent reasons for behaving as
I do. But ye are my guests at this hour and I pray that ye honour me
by gathering together to partake of the repast that I have prepared
for you all.'
While the people he had invited were enjoying the food with the
appetites of men having recently been sorely deprived, Bahira
scrutinised them all in turn, trying to find the one answering to the
description given in his Books. Much to his disappointment, he did not
succeed. There was no one to be seen whose appearance agreed with the
description. But as he had just witnessed marvels that could not be
explained, otherwise than by the reason that one of Allah's elect was
surely present, he refused to be discouraged. 'O men of the Quraish
tribe!' he asked; 'is there not one of you remaining in your
tents?'--'Aye, one only,' was the reply. 'We left him alone at rest on
account of his extreme youth.'--'Why did ye not bring him hither? Go,
call him at once, so that he shareth the meal in your company.'--'By
Lat and Uzza!' swore one of the guests; 'we give you right. Of a
surety we are to blame for having left one of us behind, while we
profit by thine invitation, especially as he is a son of Abdullah bin
Abdul Muttalib.'
Rising, he went and fetched Mohammad and brought him into the midst of
the group of guests. Bahira eyed the newcomer with great attention and
when the men had done eating and drinking, the monk went to him,
taking him on one side. 'O young man!' said the monk, 'I have a
question to ask. By Lat and Uzza, wilt thou consent to answer?'
Bahira desired to put him to the test by invoking the idols Lat and
Uzza, exactly as he had just heard his guests swearing, but Mohammad
replied thus: 'Put no question to me in the name of Lat and Uzza, for
there is nothing on this earth that I hate more than them.'--'Well
then, by Allah! wilt thou answer me?'--' Question me and, by Allah!
I'll answer thee!'