the five laws of gold. In telling it to thee, I have told the secrets of my own success.
“Yet, they are not secrets but truths which every man must first learn and then follow who wishes to step out of the multitude that, like you wild dogs, must worry each day for food to eat. “Tomorrow, we enter Babylon. Look! See the fire that burns eternal above the Temple of Bel! We are already in sight of the golden city. Tomorrow, each of thee shall have gold, the gold thou has so well earned by thy faithful services.
“Ten years from this night, what can you tell about this gold?
“If there be men among you, who, like Nomasir, will use a portion of their gold to start for themselves an estate and be thenceforth wisely guided by the wisdom of Arkad, ten years from now, ‘tis a safe wager, like the son of Arkad, they will be rich and respected among men.
“Our wise acts accompany us through life to please us and to help us. Just as surely, our unwise acts follow us to plague and torment us. Alas, they cannot be forgotten. In the front rank of the torments that do follow us are the memories of the things we should have done, of the opportunities which came to us and we took not.
“Rich are the treasures of Babylon, so rich no man can count their value in pieces of gold. Each year, they grow richer and more valuable. Like the treasures of every land, they are a reward, a rich reward awaiting those men of purpose who determine to secure their just share.
“In the strength of thine own desires is a magic power. Guide this power with thy knowledge of the five laws of gold and thou shall share the treasures of Babylon.”
The Gold Lender of Babylon
Fifty pieces of gold! Never before had Rodan, the spearmaker of old Babylon, carried so much gold in his leather wallet. Happily down the king’s highway from the palace of his most liberal Majesty he strode. Cheerfully the gold clinked as the wallet at his belt swayed with each step — the sweetest music he had ever heard.
Fifty pieces of gold! All his! He could hardly realize his good fortune. What power in those clinking discs! They could purchase anything he wanted, a grand house, land, cattle, camels, horses, chariots, whatever he might desire.
What use should he make of it? This evening as he turned into a side street towards the home of his sister, he could think of nothing he would rather possess than those same glittering, heavy pieces of gold — his to keep.
It was upon an evening some days later that a perplexed Rodan entered the shop of Mathon, the lender of gold and dealer in jewels and rare fabrics. Glancing neither to the right nor the left at the colorful articles artfully displayed, he passed through to the living quarters at the rear. Here he found the genteel Mathon lounging upon a rug partaking of a meal served by a black slave.
“I would counsel with thee for I know not what to do.” Rodan stood stolidly, feet apart, hairy breast exposed by the gaping front of his leather jacket.
Mathon’s narrow, sallow face smiled a friendly greeting. “What indiscretions hast thou done that thou shouldst seek the lender of gold? Hast been unlucky at the gaming table? Or hath some plump dame entangled thee? For many years have I known thee, yet never hast thou sought me to aid thee in thy troubles.”
“No, no. Not such as that. I seek no gold. Instead I crave thy wise advice.”
“Hear! Hear! What this man doth say. No one comes to the lender of gold for advice. My ears must play me false.”
“They listen true.”
“Can this be so? Rodan, the spearmaker, doth display more cunning than all the rest, for he comes to Mathon, not for gold, but for advice. Many men come to me for gold to pay for their follies, but as for advice, they want it not. Yet who is more able to advise than the lender of gold to whom many men come in trouble?
“Thou shalt eat with me, Rodan,” he continued. Thou shalt be my guest for the evening. Andol” he commanded of the black slave, “draw up a rag for my friend, Rodan, the spearmaker, who comes for advice. He shall be mine honored guest. Bring to him much food and get for him my largest cup. Choose well of the best wine that he may have satisfaction in the drinking.
“Now, tell me what troubles thee.”
“It is the king’s gift.”
“The king’s gift? The king did make thee a gift and it gives thee trouble? What manner of gift?”
“Because he was much pleased with the design I did submit to him for a new point on the spears of the royal guard, he did present me with fifty pieces of gold, and now I am much perplexed.
“I am beseeched each hour the sun doth travel across the sky by those who would share it with me.”
“That is natural. More men want gold than have it, and would wish one who comes by it easily to divide. But can you not say “No?” Is thy will not as strong as thy fist?”
“To many I can say no, yet sometimes it would be easier to say yes. Can one refuse to share with one’s sister to whom he is deeply devoted?”
“Surely, thy own sister would not wish to deprive thee of enjoying thy reward.”
“But it is for the sake of Araman, her husband, whom she wishes to see a rich merchant. She does feel that he has never had a chance and she beseeches me to loan to him this gold that he may become a prosperous merchant and repay me from his profits.”
“My friend,” resumed Mathon, “‘tis a worthy subject thou bringest to discuss. Gold bringeth unto its possessor responsibility and a changed position with his fellow men. It bringeth fear lest he lose it or it be tricked away from him. It bringeth a feeling of power and ability to do good. Likewise, it bringeth opportunities whereby his very good intentions may bring him into difficulties.
“Didst ever hear of the farmer of Nineveh who could understand the language of animals? I wot not, for ‘tis not the kind of tale men like to tell over the bronze caster’s forge. I will tell it to thee for thou shouldst know that to borrowing and lending there is more than the passing of gold from the hands of one to the hands of another.
“This farmer, who could understand what the animals said to each other, did linger in the farm yard each evening just to listen to their words. One evening he did hear the ox bemoaning to the ass the hardness of his lot: ‘I do labor pulling the plow from morning until night. No matter how hot the day, or how tired my legs, or how the bow doth chafe my neck, still must I work. But you are a creature of leisure. You are trapped with a colorful blanket and do nothing more than carry our master about where he wishes to go. When he goes nowhere you do rest and eat the green grass all the day.’
“Now the ass, in spite of his vicious heels, was a goodly fellow and sympathized with the ox. ‘My good friend, he replied, ‘you do work very hard and I would help ease your lot. Therefore, will I tell you how you may have a day of rest. In the morning when the slave comes to fetch you to the plow, lie upon the ground and bellow much that he may say you are sick and cannot work.’
“So the ox took the advice of the ass and the next morning the slave returned to the farmer and told him the ox was sick and could not pull the plow.
“‘Then,’ said the farmer, “hitch the ass to the plow for the plowing must go on.’
“All
