Selections from the Kur-an

by Unknown

And thy raiment,—purify it!

And the abomination,—flee it!

And bestow not favours that thou mayest receive again with increase,

And for thy Lord wait thou patiently.

There are those who see imposture in all this; for such I have no answer. Nor does it matter whether in a hysterical fit or under any physical disease soever Moḥammad saw these visions and heard these voices. We are not concerned to draw the lines of demarcation between enthusiasm and ecstasy and inspiration. It is sufficient that Moḥammad did see these things—the subjective creations of a tormented mind. It is sufficient that he believed them to be a message from on high, and that for years of neglect and persecution and for years of triumph and conquest he acted upon his belief.

Moḥammad now (612) came forward as the Apostle of the One God to the people of Arabia: he was at last well assured that his God was of a truth the God, and that He had indeed sent him with a message to his people, that they too might turn from their idols and serve the living God. He was in the minority of one, but he was no longer afraid; he had learnt that self-trust which is the condition of all true work. At first he spoke to his near kinsmen and friends; and it is impossible to overrate the importance of the fact that his closest relations and those who lived under his roof were the first to believe and the staunchest of faith. The prophet who is with honour in his own home need appeal to no stronger proof of his sincerity, and that Moḥammad was ‘a hero to his own valet’ is an invincible argument for his earnestness. The motherly Khadeejeh had at once, with a woman’s instinct, divined her husband’s heart and confirmed his fainting hope by her firm faith in him. His dearest friends, Zeyd and ´Alee, were the next converts; and though, to his grief, he could never induce his lifelong protector, Aboo-Ṭálib, to abandon the gods of his fathers, yet the old man loved him none the less, and said, when he heard of ´Alee’s conversion, ‘Well, my son, he will not call thee to aught save what is good; wherefore thou art free to cleave unto him.’ A priceless aid was gained in the accession of Aboo-Bekr, who succeeded Moḥammad as the first Khalif of Islám, and whose calm judgment and quick sagacity, joined to a gentle and compassionate heart, were of incalculable service to the faith. Aboo-Bekr was one of the wealthiest merchants of Mekka, and exercised no small influence among his fellow-citizens, no less by his character than his position. Like Moḥammad, he had a nickname, Eṣ-Ṣiddeeḳ, ‘The True:’ The True and The Trusty,—no mean augury for the future of the religion!

Five converts followed in Aboo-Bekr’s steps; amongṢ them ´Othmán, the third Khalif, and Ṭalḥah, the man of war. The ranks of the faithful were swelled from humbler sources. There were many negro slaves in Mekka, and of them not a few had been predisposed by earlier teaching to join in the worship of the One God; and of those who were first converted was the Abyssinian Bilál, the original Muëddin of Islám, and ever a devoted disciple of the Prophet. These and others from the Ḳureysh raised the number of Muslims to more than thirty souls by the fourth year of Moḥammad’s mission—thirty in three long years, and few of them men of influence!

This small success had been achieved with very little opposition from the idolaters. Moḥammad had not spoken much in public; and when he did speak to strangers, he restrained himself from attacking their worship, and only enjoined them to worship the One God who had created all things. The people were rather interested, and wondered whether he were a soothsayer or madman, or if indeed there were truth in his words. But now (a.d. 615) Moḥammad entered upon a more public career. He summoned the Ḳureysh to a conference at the hill of Eṣ-Ṣafá, and said, ‘I am come to you as a warner, and as the forerunner of a fearful punishment.... I cannot protect you in this world, nor can I promise you aught in the next life, unless ye say, There is no God but Alláh.’ He was laughed to scorn, and the assembly broke up; but from this time he ceased not to preach to the people of a punishment that would come upon the unbelieving city. He told them, in the fiery language of the early soorahs, how God had punished the old tribes of the Arabs who would not believe in His messengers, how the Flood had swallowed up the people who would not hearken to Noah. He swore unto them, by the wonderful sights of nature, by the noonday brightness, by the night when she spreadeth her veil, by the day when it appeareth in glory, that a like destruction would assuredly come upon them if they did not turn away from their idols and serve God alone. He enforced his message with every resource of language and metaphor, till he made it burn in the ears of the people. And then he told them of the Last Day, when a just reckoning should be taken of the deeds they had done; and he spoke of Paradise and Hell with all the glow of Eastern imagery. The people were moved, terrified; conversions increased. It was time the Ḳureysh should take some step. If the idols were destroyed, what would come to them, the keepers of the idols, and their renown throughout the land? How should they retain the allegiance of the neighbouring tribes who came to worship their several divinities at the Kaạbeh? That a few should follow the ravings of a madman or magician who preferred one god above the beautiful deities of Mekka was little matter; but that some leading men of the city should join the sect, and that the magician should terrify the people in open day with his denunciations of the worship which they superintended, was intolerable. The chiefs were seriously alarmed, and resolved on a more active policy. Hitherto they had merely ridiculed the professors of this new faith; they would now take stronger measures. Moḥammad himself they dared not touch; for he belonged to a noble family, which, though it was reduced and impoverished, had deserved well of the city, and which, moreover, was now headed by a man who was reverenced throughout Mekka, and was none other than the adoptive father and protector of Moḥammad himself. Nor was it safe to attack the other chief men among the Muslims, for the blood-revenge was no light risk. They were thus compelled to content themselves with the mean satisfaction of torturing the black slaves who had joined the obnoxious faction. They exposed them on the scorching sand, and withheld water till they recanted—which they did, only to profess the faith once more when they were let go. The first Muëddin alone remained steadfast: as he lay half stifled he would only answer, ‘Aḥad! Aḥad!’—‘One [God]! One!’—till Aboo-Bekr came and bought his freedom, as he was wont to do for many of the miserable victims. Moḥammad was very gentle with these forced renegades: he knew what stuff men are made of, and he bade them be of good cheer for their lips, so that their hearts were sound.

At last, moved by the sufferings of his lowly followers, he advised them to seek a refuge in Abyssinia—‘a land of righteousness, wherein no man is wronged;’ and in the fifth year of his mission (616) eleven men and four women left Mekka secretly, and were received in Abyssinia with welcome and peace. These first emigrants were followed by more the next year, till the number reached one hundred. The Ḳureysh were very wroth at the escape of their victims, and sent ambassadors to the Nejáshee, the Christian king of Abyssinia, to demand that the refugees should be given up to them. But the Nejáshee assembled his bishops and sent for the Muslims and asked them why they had fled; and one of them answered and said—

‘O king! we lived in ignorance, idolatry, and unchastity; the strong oppressed the weak; we spoke untruth; we violated the duties of hospitality. Then a prophet arose, one whom we knew from our youth, with whose descent and conduct and good faith and morality we are all well acquainted. He told us to worship one God, to speak truth, to keep good faith, to assist our relations, to fulfil the rights of hospitality, and to abstain from all things impure, ungodly, unrighteous. And he ordered us to say prayers, give alms, and to fast. We believed in him; we followed him. But our countrymen persecuted us, tortured us, and tried to cause us to forsake our religion; and now we throw ourselves upon thy protection. Wilt thou not protect us?’ And he recited a chapter of the Ḳur-án, which spoke of Christ; and the king and the bishops wept upon their beards. And the king dismissed the messengers and would not give up the men.