THE STORY OF MEDJEDDIN.
Many hundred years ago there lived in the famous city of Bagdad a retired merchant named El Kattab. The earlier part of his life had been assiduously devoted to commercial pursuits, in the prosecution of which he had made many a long journey, and crossed many a sea. In the course of his wanderings he had not only amassed the wealth he sought, but, what was better, had stored his mind and memory with the treasures of wisdom and general information. The property he had acquired was far from immense, yet it was amply sufficient to enable him to live in a style of substantial comfort and respectability, and to devote himself to the darling object of his declining years, the education and training of his only son.
El Kattab's beard was grey, yet he had not very long passed the prime of life, and still retained most of the vigour and elasticity of his earlier years. He was wise enough to be content with the quiet enjoyments of a moderate affluence, and had no desire to wear out the rest of his life in the feverish labour of constant acquirement, for the mere sake of amassing a splendid fortune; therein differing from too many of his friends, who seemed to forget in their headlong pursuit of enormous riches, that by the time these might be acquired, life would be nigh spent, and at any rate all its charms gone, unless some higher and nobler object had been substituted for that of mere wealth-getting.
The city of Mossul had been El Kattab's home in his earlier days; but he quitted it, and took up his abode in Bagdad, partly in order to be near his friend Salek, with whom he had been on the most intimate terms from his youth; partly, too, for the sake of his son's education, as he expected that a residence in the latter city would produce good and lasting impressions on the mind of the young man; for the great city of Bagdad was at this time under the rule of the far-famed caliph Haroun al Raschid, and was the resort of strangers from all parts of the globe; and here artists and sages of all countries mingled with each other. Nor had El Kattab conceived a vain expectation. His son, whose name was Medjeddin, was a young man gifted with good natural abilities, and endowed with a pure and noble heart. He used every opportunity to extend his knowledge and improve his disposition; nor was he deficient in bodily exercises and warlike accomplishments: so that through good discipline he became powerful in body and strong in mind. He was not only, therefore, as was natural enough, the joy and pride of his father, but was loved and esteemed by all who knew him, and was often pointed out by the elders, to others of his own age, as an example worthy of imitation. As the father saw his greatest treasure in the person of his son, so the latter, with all the fervour of a well-directed mind, clung affectionately to his father.
Some years passed over them in this mutual love, rendered still more delightful by the companionship of their friend Salek, and their happiness was full and uninterrupted. It chanced one day that El Kattab and Salek were taking their accustomed walk in the gardens adjoining the city in front of the gate. The heat of the summer's day had been diminished by a gentle rain, and the two strolled on, in happy conversation, and extended their walk beyond its usual length. They passed the last garden, and wandered on over some green meadow-land, behind a little wood, at the entrance of which stood high palms, whose shadows invited to repose, while a fresh spring gushed from a neighbouring rock, and meandered among the verdant herbage and variegated flowers.
The two friends lay down in the shade, and conversed on the perils to which even the most virtuous men are subject, particularly enlarging on the danger of an over-confidence in the rectitude of our own intentions, and on the comparative ease with which a sudden impulse will sometimes hurry even the best of men, who possesses an overweening reliance on his own firmness of purpose, into a false or even fatal step in life.
"I have known men," observed Salek, "who, although among the best and noblest I have ever met in the course of my life, have been led unawares, by too great self-confidence, into an action which they might easily have avoided by moderate caution, but which has proved the beginning of a long chain of evils, ending at last in their complete ruin."
El Kattab, on the contrary, maintained that a heart accustomed from early youth to virtue, would not be easily led to commit a serious fault; and even if this should happen, that it would readily find its way back from a slight error to the right road. They continued to talk on these subjects, each endeavouring to confirm his assertions by examples, whilst Medjeddin, stretched beside them, listened with attention to their conversation. Suddenly he sprang to his feet, and ran quickly up the woody hill, at the foot of which they were reposing. His father and Salek looked after him surprised, as they could not comprehend what had occasioned his sudden disappearance. They then saw that a little bird, as white as snow, was flying before him, which he was trying to catch. He was soon lost to their view among the bushes; they called to him to come back; but in vain. They waited for a quarter of an hour, and still Medjeddin did not return. Growing uneasy about him, they advanced in the direction in which he had disappeared, but could discover nothing. At last the sun set; then Salek said, "Let us return home: your son is a strong, active young man; he will easily find his way back to the city. Perhaps he has gone home some other way, and will be there before us."
After much opposition, the father was persuaded to return without his son; but he was still full of anxiety which no arguments could overcome. When they arrived at the city, his friend accompanied him to his house. They entered hastily, and inquired for Medjeddin: but he had not returned. Salek's cheering suggestions were of no more avail; El Kattab would no longer listen to him, but threw himself weeping on his couch. Salek rebuked him for this weakness, and represented to him that it might easily have happened that the young man had lost his way in the pursuit of the bird, and could not recover the track all at once.
"He has no doubt found a shelter where he will remain till morning," continued he; "he will return here early to-morrow, and will laugh heartily at your fears."