THE HOUSE OF ISLÂM
THE HOUSE
OF ISLÂM
BY
MARMADUKE PICKTHALL
“Man prays for Evil as he prays forGood, for man is unthinking.”
—Alcoran.
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
NEW YORK MCMVI
Copyright, 1906, by
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
Published September, 1906
THE HOUSE OF ISLÂM
INTRODUCTION
In the reign of the Sultàn Abdul Mejìd Khan,upon termination of the war with Muscovy, a multitudeof faithful Georgians and Circassians chose tocast themselves, their women and children, upon thebounty of the Padishah rather than endure the yokeof an infidel conqueror. They begged but leave tosettle in some part of the Sultàn’s dominions, todwell in peace among true believers in obedienceto the law of God, as transmitted to Muhammed,His Apostle. But their spokesmen had fierce eyes,and, when a little emphasis seemed called for,each clutched quite naturally at the dagger in hissash.
The Sultàn’s advisers—black-coated, red-cappedOthmanlis of the eyes that see but never look—notedthis slight discrepancy while placidly telling theirbeads. There were lawless spots in the empire. Onthe confines of Esh-Shâm, for example, the peasantspaid tax to the chiefs of the desert rather than[2]to the lawful tithe farmer. There was a placewith work in the world for men both loyal and warlike.
The Sultàn Abdul Mejìd heard those exiles. Heclothed them in the mantle of his grace. Landswere granted in a far province, rights and privilegeswere conferred upon them. Letters written underthe Tûghra made it a duty for all men to do themhonor. And to prevent untoward collision with theold inhabitants, one Milhem Bey, a native of thatcountry, was appointed to overlook the settlementand quell the disputes which were sure to arise atthe outset.
Many days after the Circassians had set sail fortheir new land, one hot afternoon, this Milhem tookboat at Tufana, down by the bridge, and went to visithis brother, a young doctor of the religion, who dweltby the shore of Asia. As his caique shot forth intothe strait, the coasts of Europe opened like a scroll.Fat domes and slender minarets rose up white fromout dark cypress groves on the hill of Istanbûl.Heaped Ghalata and straggling Pera gatheredbeauty as their forms receded. The song of waters,with the pleasant sense of gliding, soothed Milhem.He closed his eyes upon the shining prospect, whilehe said in his soul:
“It is well.... Yet not altogether well.After fifteen years of obeisance, now at last I am lordof something—a small thing, but earnest of more tocome. That is good. Praise to Allah, I am blest inthat!... But it has taken long to reach this littleeminence, and has cost me—Merciful Allah!—howmuch money! My patrimony is all but spent. Andthis post is not worth the trouble unless as a step tosomething finer. A few rock-scraping fellahìn, a fewwild-beast Circassians.... What profit, O Lord,in such a government? After six months or eight Ishall return. Then, it may be, they will speak to meof a pashalik. Where—Allah pity!—can I touchthe price of a pashalik? Without money I c