It was her strength of character and sweetness of mind that impelled him
to utter the amazing words--amazing for his time and environment,
seventh-century Arabia--"women are the twin-halves of men."

But fortune or Allah had not finished the "strong affliction" whereby
Mahomet was forced to cast off from his moorings and venture into strange
and perilous seas. Five weeks after the death of his wife came the death
of his uncle, Abu Talib. If the first had been a catastrophe affecting
his courage and quietude of mind, this was calculated to crush both
himself and his companions. Abu Talib was well loved by Mahomet, who
manifested throughout his life the strongest capacity for friendship. But
more important than the personal grief was the loss of the one man whose
efforts bridged over the widening gulf between himself and the Kureisch.
As such, his death was irreparable damage to Mahomet's safety from their
hostilities.

Abu Lahab, it is true, touched a little by the sorrows crowding so
thickly upon his nephew, protected him for a time, but very soon withdrew
his support and joined the opposition. Ranged against Abu Lahab and Abu
Jahl, with their influential following, and lacking the support hitherto
provided by Abu Talib, Mahomet perceived that a crisis was fast
approaching. His band was too numerous to be ignored or even tolerated by
the Kureisch, but against such odds as Mecca's most powerful citizens,
Mahomet was too wise to attempt to resist. There seemed no other way but
the withdrawal of his little concourse to such place of safety as would
enable them to strengthen themselves and prepare for the inevitable
struggle for supremacy. No more conversions of importance had taken place
since Omar's and Hamza's allegiance to Islam, and now three years
had passed. Mahomet felt increasingly the need for their exodus from the
city of his birth. It is not evident from the chroniclers that he had any