[p.51]Road to medical fame. You must begin by sitting with the porter,
who is sure to have blear eyes, into which you drop a little nitrate of
silver, whilst you instil into his ear the pleasing intelligence that
you never take a fee from the poor. He recovers; his report of you
spreads far and wide, crowding your doors with paupers. They come to
you as though you were their servant, and when cured they turn their
backs upon you for ever. Hence it is that European doctors generally
complain of ingratitude on the part of their Oriental patients. It is
true that if you save a man's life, he naturally asks you for the means
of preserving it. Moreover, in none of the Eastern languages with which
I am acquainted is there a single term conveying the meaning of our
"gratitude," and none but Germans[FN#9] have ideas unexplainable by
words. But you must not condemn this absence of a virtue without
considering the cause. An Oriental deems that he has the right to your
surplus. "Daily bread is divided" (by heaven), he asserts, and eating
yours, he considers it his own. Thus it is with other things. He is
thankful to Allah for the gifts of the Creator, but he has a claim to
the good offices of a fellow-creature. In rendering him a service you
have but done your duty, and he would not pay you so poor a compliment
as to praise you for the act. He leaves you, his benefactor, with a
short prayer for the length of your days. "Thank you," being expressed
by "Allah increase thy weal!" or the selfish wish that your shadow
(with which you protect him and his fellows) may never be less. And
this is probably the last you hear of him.
There is a discomfort in such proceedings, a reasonable,