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RussellConwell:AcresofDiamondsWhengoingdowntheTigrisandEuphratesriversmanyyearsagowithapartyofEnglishtravelersIfoundmyselfunderthedirectionofanoldArabguidewhomwehiredupatBaghdad,andIhaveoftenthoughthowthatguideresembledourbarbersincertainmentalcharacteristics.Hethoughtthatitwasnotonlyhisdutytoguideusdownthoserivers,anddowhathewaspaidfordoing,buttoentertainuswithstoriescuriousandweird,ancientandmodernstrange,andfamiliar.ManyofthemIhaveforgotten,andIamgladIhave,butthereisoneIshallneverforget.Theoldguidewasleadingmycamelbyitshalteralongthebanksofthoseancientrivers,andhetoldmestoryafterstoryuntilIgrewwearyofhisstory-tellingandceasedtolisten.IhaveneverbeenirritatedwiththatguidewhenhelosthistemperasIceasedlistening.ButIrememberthathetookoffhisTurkishcapandswungitinacircletogetmyattention.Icouldseeitthroughthecornerofmyeye,butIdeterminednottolookstraightathimforfearhewouldtellanotherstory.ButalthoughIamnotawoman,Ididfinallylook,andassoonasIdidhewentrightintoanotherstory.Saidhe,“IwilltellyouastorynowwhichIreserveformyparticularfriends.”Whenheemphasizedthewords“particularfriends,”IlistenedandIhaveeverbeengladIdid.Ireallyfeeldevoutlythankful,thatthereare1,674youngmenwhohavebeencarriedthroughcollegebythislecturewhoarealsogladthatIdidlisten.TheoldguidetoldmethatthereoncelivednotfarfromtheRiverIndusanancientPersianbythenameofAliHafed.HesaidthatAliHafedownedaverylargefarm;thathehadorchards,grain-fields,andgardens;thathehadmoneyatinterestandwasawealthyandcontentedman.OnedaytherevisitedthatoldPersianfarmeroneofthoseancientBuddhistpriests,oneofthewisemenoftheEast.Hesatdownbythefireandtoldtheoldfarmerhowthisoldworldofourswasmade.Hesaidthatthisworldwasonceamerebankoffog,andthattheAlmightythrustHisfingerintothisbankoffog,andbeganslowlytomoveHisfingeraround,increasingthespeeduntilatlastHewhirledthisbankoffogintoasolidballoffire.Thenitwentrollingthroughtheuniverse,burningitswaythroughotherbanksoffog,andcondensedthemoisturewithout,untilitfellinfloodsofrainuponitshotsurface,andcooledtheoutwardcrust.Thentheinternalfiresburstingoutwardthroughthecrustthrewupthemountainsandhills,thevalleys,theplainsandprairiesofthiswonderfulworldofours.Ifthisinternalmoltenmasscameburstingoutandcooledveryquickly,itbecamegranite;lessquicklycopper,lessquicklysilver,lessquicklygold,and,aftergold,diamondsweremade.Saidtheoldpriest,“Adiamondisacongealeddropofsunlight.”Nowthatisliterallyscientificallytrue,thatadiamondisanactualdepositofcarbonfromthesun.TheoldpriesttoldAliHafedthatifhehadonediamondthesizeofhisthumbhecouldpurchasethecounty,andifthehadamineofdiamondshecouldplacehischildrenuponthronesthroughtheinfluenceoftheirgreatwealth.AliHafedheardallaboutdiamonds,howmuchtheywereworth,andwenttohisbedthatnightapoorman.Hehadnotlostanything,buthewaspoorbecausehewasdiscontented,anddiscontentedbecausehefearedhewaspoor.Hesaid,“Iwantamineofdiamonds,”andhelayawakeallnight.Earlyinthemorninghesoughtoutthepriest.Iknowbyexperiencethatapriestisverycrosswhenawakenedearlyinthemorning,andwhenheshookthatoldpriestoutofhisdreams,AliHafedsaidtohim:WillyoutellmewhereIfinddiamonds?”Diamonds!Whatdoyouwantwithdiamonds?”“Why,Iwishtobeimmenselyrich.”“Well,then,goalongandfindthem.Thatisallyouhavetodo;goandfindthem,andthenyouhavethem.”“ButIdon’tknowwheretogo.”“Well,ifyouwillfindariverthatrunsthroughwhitesands,betweenhighmountains,inthosewhitesandsyouwillalwaysfinddiamonds.”“Idon’tbelievethereisanysuchriver.”“Ohyes,thereareplentyofthem.Allyouhavetodoistogoandfindthem,andthenyouhavethem.”SaidAliHafed,“Iwillgo.”Sohesoldhisfarm,collectedhismoney,lefthisfamilyinchargeofaneighbor,andawayhewentinsearchofdiamonds.Hebeganhissearch,veryproperlytomymind,attheMountainsoftheMoon.AfterwardhecamearoundintoPalestine,thenwanderedonintoEurope,andatlastwhenhismoneywasallspentandhewasinrags,wretchedness,andpoverty,hestoodontheshoreofthatbayatBarcelona,inSpain,whenagreattidalwavecamerollinginbetweenthepillarsofHercules,andthepoor,afflicted,suffering,dyingmancouldnotresisttheawfultemptationtocasthimselfintothatincomingtide,andhesankbeneathitsfoamingcrest,nevertoriseinthislifeagain.Thenafterthatoldguidehadtoldmethatawfullysadstory,hestoppedthecamelIwasridingonandwentbacktofixthebaggagethatwascomingoffanothercamel,andIhadanopportunitytomuseoverhisstorywhilehewasgone.Iremembersayingtomyself,“Whydidhereservethatstoryforhis‘particularfriends’?”Thereseemedtobenobeginning,nomiddle,noend,nothingtoit.ThatwasthefirststoryIhadeverheardtoldinmylife,andwouldbethefirstoneIeverread,inwhichtheherowaskilledinthefirstchapter.Ihadbutonechapterofthatstory,andtheherowasdead.Whentheguidecamebackandtookupthehalterofmycamel,hewentrightaheadwiththestory,intothesecondchapter,justasthoughtherehadbeennobreak.ThemanwhopurchasedAliHafed’sfarmonedayledhiscamelintothegardentodrink,andasthatcamelputitsnoseintotheshallowwaterofthatgardenbrook,AliHafed’ssuccessornoticedacuriousflashoflightfromthewhitesandsofthestream.Hepulledoutablackstonehavinganeyeoflightreflectingallthehuesoftherainbow.Hetookthepebbleintothehouseandputitonthemantelwhichcove