“In the last part of what you said (my dear nephews), I fear you will be disappointed; for the story I have to tell today” (and here his voice fell to a graver tone) “is one of strange disaster.
“I desire you to bear my losses even more closely in mind than the previous accounts of my rising fortunes or than those other accounts which will follow and will show how I recovered my standing in the world. For it would indeed be a poor service I should do you young people if I were to leave you under the error that energy and adventure alone add gold to gold: no, nor even cunning. For there is also the Will of the Supreme.
“What is the sleight of hand or eye, without Him?” asked the old merchant in a rapture (as his youngest nephew cleverly swallowed a yawn). “Do you hope for gain by the folly of your dupe or even by your own stupidity? It is far otherwise!
“Our Sacred Books present us with many an example of good men whom the Infinite Mercy has seen fit to try. It is our conduct under these ordeals which are the true test of character and the only foundations of our future and eternal reward. By so much as I ascribe to the Mercy of Allah whatever goods have befallen me, by so much do I ascribe to His inscrutable wisdom and kindness even the sharp reverses of this life. For by these we learn that there is an element of speculation in all business; that we are surrounded by the competition of rivals whom we should never despise; that our friends ever lie in wait to outwit us. It is only by the humble acceptation of such lessons that we become even more acute in dealing with our fellow-beings than we were before we had suffered loss.
“However, I will not delay, but proceed at once to the harrowing tale. For you must now follow your poor uncle through dark and distressing days.” As he said these words the features of his young relatives betrayed the utmost concern; none more than those of the youngest, the great pathos of whose expression oddly assorted with the innocence of his years.
“You must know, then,” began the old man, “that my prime error at this moment in my career, was a desire for ease. I thought (I say it to my shame!) that I had made enough. To use the familiar language of the market I regarded my present fortune of a million dinars as my ‘pile.’ To use another phrase which you will come across very frequently in your maturer years, I was ready to retire.
“Oh, fatal error! Oh, profound ingratitude! Here was I, still in the vigour of early manhood—for I had but just attained my thirtieth year, on the full tide of an apparent success, blessed in all my doings—and yet already with a paltry million in hand so ungrateful to God as to entertain a shameful temptation to leisure! The result shall be a warning to you, I hope, and to any who may come across this recital.
“The insidious poison of content had, all unknown to myself, wormed its way into my heart. I had (for the moment at least) wearied of getting the better of others—which should be the chief activity of a man; I was already toying with such fripperies as the reading of books, the contemplation of fine manuscripts, the designing of a house for myself, the planning of gardens, futile conversation with the learned, and, worst of all, the taking of an interest in the past. Beyond this foolish bent for acquiring knowledge of dead things, I descended to the pen! I actually began to write. To the writing of verse (I humbly thank God!) I never fell, but had not a sharp chastisement brought me to my senses I might have come to it.
“You know, perhaps, my dear nephews, that there are some men so lost to all shame that on finding themselves possessed of a considerable sum they will not embark it in commerce nor even lend it out at interest to the widow and the orphan, to the teachers of our holy religion, or to districts struck by famine; indeed, they make no lucrative employment of it, but, yielding to a base appetite for repose, they draw upon it as they need until it is wholly exhausted.”
“Oh, how shocking!” piped a shrill voice, interrupting the merchant in his eloquence. The cry proceeded from the youngest.
“You feel strongly, my little fellow,” said his uncle, “and you are quite right. I am delighted to find that one so young has already so sound a sense of our duty in the battle of life. There are, I repeat, men so despicable that they will put their substance aside, taking from it what they need from day to day, until one of these two events befalls them: at the worst they live too long and spend their last miserable years in destitution: at the best (and it is a poor best) they live too short, and have the infinite mortification, in the agony of death, to discover that they might have had some slightly larger income had they made a more exact calculation.
“I am speaking frankly to you, my nephews (in spite of the difference in our ages and of the respect you owe me as the head of the family), when I confess so great a depth of degradation as this. I did not put this million which I had acquired aside. I used it fruitfully. But my mind was occupied (even after so many years I blush to recall it!) in seeking some secure and permanent form of revenue, so that I should be free henceforth from the labour and risk of buying cheap and selling dear, and from the duty
