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diff --git a/16949-h/16949-h.htm b/16949-h/16949-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c4d4493 --- /dev/null +++ b/16949-h/16949-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12734 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Mac OS X (vers 1st December 2004), see www.w3.org" /> +<meta http-equiv="content-type" content= +"text/html; charset=us-ascii" /> +<title>Flowers from a Persian Garden, by W. A. Clouston.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[*/ + <!-- + body {font-family:Georgia,serif;margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;line-height:1.5em;font-variant:small-caps;} + pre {font-family:Courier,monospace;font-size: 0.8em;} + sup {font-size:0.7em;} + hr {width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + hr.short {width:25%;} + h4.tale, h5.tale, h3.note { + font-style: italic; + font-variant: normal; + font-weight: normal;} + h4.note{font-variant: normal;font-weight: normal;} + ul {list-style-type:none;padding-left:1em;text-indent:-1em;} + .returnTOC {text-align:right;font-size:.7em;} + span.returnFN {position:absolute;right:3%;left:89%;font-size:0.9em;text-align:left;text-indent:0em;} + span.pagenum {position:absolute;left:1%;right:92%;font-size:0.7em;text-align:left;text-indent:0em;color:gray;background-color:white;} + sup{font-size:.7em;} + span.sc {font-variant:small-caps;} + .small {font-size:0.8em;} + .smaller {font-size:0.6em;} + .spacedTop {padding-top:3em;} + .quote {text-align:justify;text-indent:0em;margin-left:10%;margin-right:10%;} + .epigram {text-align:justify;text-indent:0em;margin-left:10%;margin-right:10%;font-size:0.9em;padding:2em 0em;} + .cen {text-align:center;} + .rgt {text-align:right;} + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + .poem p.i16 {margin-left: 8em;} + .poem p.i12 {margin-left: 6em;} + .footnotes {font-size:90%;} + .index{font-size:90%;margin-left:10%;} + .index > ul {padding-top:1.6em;} + .index ul li {line-height:1.6em;} + .transcribersNote { font-size:0.8em;padding:1em 1.3em; + width: 80%; + margin:1em 10%; + border: thin dashed gray; + background-color: #E6E6E6;color:black; + } + .indexKey {text-align: center;font-size:1.2em; + } + a:link {text-decoration:none} + a:visited {text-decoration:none} + --> +/*]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other +Papers, by W. A. Clouston + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers + +Author: W. A. Clouston + +Release Date: October 26, 2005 [EBook #16949] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLOWERS PERSIAN GARDEN *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="epigram">“The smiling Garden of Persian +Literature”: a Garden which I would describe, in the Eastern +style, as a happy spot, where lavish Nature with profusion strews +the most fragrant and blooming flowers, where the most delicious +fruits abound, which is ever vocal with the plaintive melancholy of +the nightingale, who, during day and night, “tunes her +love-laboured song”: … where the voice of Wisdom is +often heard uttering her moral sentence, or delivering the dictates +of experience.—<span class="sc">Sir W. Ouseley</span>.</div> +<h1><span class="small">FLOWERS</span><br /> +<span class="smaller">FROM</span><br /> +A PERSIAN GARDEN,<br /> +<span class="smaller">AND</span><br /> +<span class="small">OTHER PAPERS.</span></h1> +<h2>By W. A. Clouston,</h2> +<h5 style="font-weight:normal;">AUTHOR OF ‘POPULAR TALES AND +FICTIONS’ AND ‘BOOK OF NOODLES’; EDITOR OF +‘A GROUP OF EASTERN ROMANCES AND STORIES,’ ‘BOOK +OF SINDIBAD,’ ‘BAKHTYAR NAMA,’ ‘ARABIAN +POETRY FOR ENGLISH READERS,’ ETC.</h5> +<h4>LONDON:<br /> +DAVID NUTT, 270, 271, STRAND.<br /> +MDCCCXC.</h4> +<hr /> +<h5 class="spacedTop">TO</h5> +<h3>E. SIDNEY HARTLAND, Esq.,</h3> +<h6>FELLOW OF THE SOCIETY OF ANTIQUARIES; MEMBER OF THE COUNCIL OF +THE FOLK-LORE SOCIETY, ETC.</h6> +<p><span class="sc">My dear Hartland,</span></p> +<p>Though you are burdened with the duties of a profession far +outside of which lie those studies that have largely occupied my +attention for many years past, yet your own able contributions to +the same, or cognate, subjects of investigation evince the truth of +the seemingly paradoxical saying, that “the busiest man finds +the greatest amount of leisure.” And in dedicating this +little book to you—would that it were more worthy!—as a +token of gratitude for the valuable help you have often rendered me +in the course of my studies, I am glad of the opportunity it +affords me for placing on record (so to say) the fact that I enjoy +the friendship of a man possessed of so many excellent qualities of +heart as well as of intellect.</p> +<p>The following collection of essays, or papers, is designed to +suit the tastes of a more numerous class of readers than were some +of my former books, which are not likely to be of special interest +to many besides students of comparative folk-lore—amongst +whom your own degree is high. The book, in fact, is intended mainly +for those who are rather vaguely termed “general +readers”; albeit I venture to think that even the folk-lore +student may find in it somewhat to “make a note of,” as +the great Captain Cuttle was wont to say—in season and out of +season.</p> +<p>Leaving the contents to speak for themselves, I shall only say +farther that my object has been to bring together, in a handy +volume, a series of essays which might prove acceptable to many +readers, whether of grave or lively temperament. What are called +“instructive” books—meaning thereby +“morally” instructive—are generally as dull +reading as is proverbially a book containing nothing but +jests—good, bad, and indifferent. We can’t (and we +shouldn’t) be always in the “serious” mood, nor +can we be for ever on the grin; and it seems to me that a mental +dietary, by turns, of what is wise and of what is witty should be +most wholesome. But, of the two, I confess I prefer to take the +former, even as one ought to take solid food, in great moderation; +and, after all, it is surely better to laugh than to mope or weep, +in spite of what has been said of “the loud laugh that speaks +the vacant mind.” Most of us, in this work-a-day world, find +no small benefit from allowing our minds to lie fallow at certain +times, as farmers do with their fields. In the following pages, +however, I believe wisdom and wit, the didactic and the diverting, +will be found in tolerably fair proportions.</p> +<p>But I had forgot—I am not writing a Preface, and this is +already too long for a Dedication; so believe me, with all good +wishes,</p> +<div style="width:90%;"> +<p class="cen">Yours ever faithfully,</p> +<p class="rgt">W. A. CLOUSTON.</p> +<p><span class="sc">Glasgow</span>, <i>February</i>, 1890.</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2 class="spacedTop"><a id="Contents" name= +"Contents"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a href="#Flowers">FLOWERS FROM A PERSIAN +GARDEN.</a></h3> +<h4><a href="#Flowers_1">I</a></h4> +<p>Sketch of the Life of the Persian Poet +Saádí—Character of his Writings—the +<i>Gulistán</i>, or Rose-Garden—Prefaces to +Books—Preface to the <i>Gulistán</i>—Eastern +Poets in praise of Springtide</p> +<h4><a href="#Flowers_2">II</a></h4> +<p>Boy’s Archery Feat—Advantages of +Abstinence—Núshirván on Oppression—Boy in +terror at Sea—Pride of Ancestry—Misfortunes of +Friends—Fortitude and +Liberality—Prodigality—Stupid Youth—Advantages of +Education—The Fair Cup-bearer—‘January and +May’—Why an Old Man did not Marry—The Dervish who +became King—Muezzin and Preacher who had bad +voices—Witty Slave—Witty +Kází—Astrologer and his Faithless +Wife—Objectionable Neighbour</p> +<h4><a href="#Flowers_3">III</a></h4> +<p>On Taciturnity: Parallels from Caxton’s <i>Dictes</i> and +preface to <i>Kalíla wa Dimna</i>—Difference between +Devotee and Learned Man—To get rid of Troublesome +Visitors—Fable of the Nightingale and the Ant—Aphorisms +of Saádí—Conclusion</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a href="#Oriental">ORIENTAL WIT AND +HUMOUR.</a></h3> +<h4><a href="#Oriental_1">I</a></h4> +<p>Man a Laughing Animal—Antiquity of Popular +Jests—‘Night and Day’—The Plain-featured +Bride—The House of Condolence—The Blind Man’s +Wife—Two Witty Persian Ladies—Woman’s +Counsel—The Turkish Jester: in the Pulpit; the Cauldron; the +Beggar; the Drunken Governor; the Robber; the Hot +Broth—Muslim Preachers and Misers</p> +<h4><a href="#Oriental_2">II</a></h4> +<p>The Two Deaf Men and the Traveller—The Deaf Persian and +the Horseman—Lazy Servants—Chinese Humour: The Rich Man +and the Smiths; How to keep Plants alive; Criticising a +Portrait—The Persian Courtier and his old Friend—The +Scribe—The Schoolmaster and the Wit—The Persian and his +Cat—A List of Blockheads—The Arab and his Camel—A +Witty Baghdádí—The Unlucky Slippers</p> +<h4><a href="#Oriental_3">III</a></h4> +<p>The Young Merchant of Baghdád; or, the Wiles of Woman</p> +<h4><a href="#Oriental_4">IV</a></h4> +<p>Ashaab the Covetous—The Stingy Merchant and the Hungry +Bedouin—The Sect of Samradians—The Story-teller and the +King—Royal Gifts to Poets—The Persian Poet and the +Impostor—‘Stealing Poetry’—The Rich Man and +the Poor Poet</p> +<h4><a href="#Oriental_5">V</a></h4> +<p>Unlucky Omens—The Old Man’s Prayer—The Old +Woman in the Mosque—The Weeping Turkmans—The Ten +Foolish Peasants—The Wakeful Servant—The Three +Dervishes—The Oilman’s Parrot—The Moghul and his +Parrot—The Persian Shopkeeper and the Prime +Minister—Hebrew Facetiæ</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a href="#Parrot">TALES OF A PARROT.</a></h3> +<h4><a href="#Parrot_1">I</a></h4> +<p>General Plan of Eastern Story-books—The +<i>Tútí Náma</i>, or Parrot-Book—The +Frame-story—The Stolen Images—The Woman carved out of +Wood—The Man whose Mare was kicked by a Merchant’s +Horse</p> +<h4><a href="#Parrot_2">II</a></h4> +<p>The Emperor’s Dream—The Golden Apparition—The +Four Treasure-seekers</p> +<h4><a href="#Parrot_3">III</a></h4> +<p>The Singing Ass: the Foolish Thieves: the Faggot-maker and the +Magic Bowl</p> +<h4><a href="#Parrot_4">IV</a></h4> +<p>The Goldsmith who lost his Life through Covetousness—The +King who died of Love for a Merchant’s Daughter—The +Discovery of Music—The Seven Requisites of a Perfect +Woman</p> +<h4><a href="#Parrot_5">V</a></h4> +<p>The Princess of Rome and her Son—The Seven +Vazírs</p> +<h4><a href="#Parrot_6">VI</a></h4> +<p>The Tree of Life—Legend of Rájá +Rasálú—Conclusion</p> +<ul> +<li><span class="small"><em>ADDITIONAL NOTE:</em></span></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Parrot_N">The Magic Bowl, +etc.</a></li> +</ul> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a href="#Rabbi">RABBINICAL LEGENDS, TALES, +FABLES, AND APHORISMS.</a></h3> +<h4><a href="#Rabbi_1">I</a></h4> +<p><span class="sc">Introductory</span>: Authors, Traducers, and +Moral Teachings of Talmud</p> +<h4><a href="#Rabbi_2">II</a></h4> +<p><span class="sc">Legends of some Biblical Characters</span>: +Adam and Eve—Cain and Abel—The Planting of the +Vine—Luminous Jewels—Abraham’s Arrival in +Egypt—The Infamous Citizens of Sodom—Abraham and +Ishmael’s Wives—Joseph and Potiphar’s +Wife—Joseph and his Brethren—Jacob’s +Sorrow—Moses and Pharaoh</p> +<h4><a href="#Rabbi_3">III</a></h4> +<p><span class="sc">Legends of David and Solomon</span>, etc.</p> +<h4><a href="#Rabbi_4">IV</a></h4> +<p><span class="sc">Moral and Entertaining Tales</span>: Rabbi +Jochonan and the Poor Woman—A Safe Investment—The +Jewels—The Capon-carver</p> +<h4><a href="#Rabbi_5">V</a></h4> +<p><span class="sc">Moral Tales, Tables, and Parables</span>: The +Dutiful Son—An Ingenious Will—Origin of +Beast-Fables—The Fox and the Bear—The Fox in the +Garden—The Desolate Island—The Man and his Three +Friends—The Garments—Solomon’s Choice—Bride +and Bridegroom—Abraham and the Idols—The Vanity of +Ambition—The Seven Stages of Human Life</p> +<h4><a href="#Rabbi_6">VI</a></h4> +<p><span class="sc">Wise Sayings of the Rabbis</span></p> +<ul> +<li><span class="small"><em>ADDITIONAL NOTES:</em></span></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Rabbi_N_1">Adam and the +Oil of Mercy</a></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Rabbi_N_2">Muslim Legend +of Adam’s Punishment, Pardon, Death, and Burial</a></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Rabbi_N_3">Moses and the +Poor Woodcutter</a></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Rabbi_N_4">Precocious +Sagacity of Solomon</a></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Rabbi_N_5">Solomon and the +Serpent’s Prey</a></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Rabbi_N_6">The +Capon-carver</a></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Rabbi_N_7">The Fox and the +Bear</a></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Rabbi_N_8">The Desolate +Island</a></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Rabbi_N_9">Other +Rabbinical Legends and Tales</a></li> +</ul> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a href="#Arabian">AN ARABIAN TALE OF +LOVE.</a></h3> +<ul> +<li><span class="small"><em>ADDITIONAL NOTES:</em></span></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Arabian_N_1">‘Wamik +and Asra’</a></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Arabian_N_2">Another +Famous Arabian Lover</a></li> +</ul> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a href="#Esop">APOCRYPHAL LIFE OF +ESOP.</a></h3> +<ul> +<li><span class="small"><em>ADDITIONAL NOTE:</em></span></li> +<li style="margin-left:1.5em;"><a href="#Esop_N">Drinking the Sea +Dry</a></li> +</ul> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a href="#Clergy">IGNORANCE OF THE CLERGY IN +THE MIDDLE AGES.</a></h3> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a href="#Beards">THE BEARDS OF OUR +FATHERS.</a></h3> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a href="#Index">INDEX.</a></h3> +<hr /> +<h2 class="spacedTop"><a id="Flowers" name="Flowers"></a>FLOWERS +FROM A PERSIAN GARDEN.</h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page3" name="page3"></a>[pg +3]</span></p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Flowers_1" name="Flowers_1"></a>I</h3> +<p class="small cen">SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF THE PERSIAN POET +SAADI—CHARACTER OF HIS WRITINGS—THE +“GULISTÁN”—PREFACES TO BOOKS—PREFACE +TO THE “GULISTÁN”—EASTERN POETS IN PRAISE +OF SPRINGTIDE.</p> +<p>It is remarkable how very little the average general reader +knows regarding the great Persian poet Saádí and his +writings. His name is perhaps more or less familiar to casual +readers from its being appended to one or two of his aphorisms +which are sometimes reproduced in odd corners of popular +periodicals; but who he was, when he lived, and what he wrote, are +questions which would probably puzzle not a few, even of those who +consider themselves as “well read,” to answer without +first recurring to some encyclopædia. Yet Saádí +was assuredly one of the most gifted men of genius the world has +ever known: a man of large and comprehensive intellect; an original +and profound thinker; an acute observer of men and manners; and his +works remain the imperishable monument of his genius, learning, and +industry.</p> +<p>Maslahu ’d-Dín Shaykh Saádí was born, +towards the close of the twelfth century, at Shíráz, +the famous <span class="pagenum"><a id="page4" name="page4"></a>[pg +4]</span>capital of Fars, concerning which city the Persians have +the saying that “if Muhammed had tasted the pleasures of +Shíráz, he would have begged Allah to make him +immortal there.” In accordance with the usual practice in +Persia, he assumed as his <em>takhallus</em>, or poetical +name,<a href="#fn_1" id="fnm_1" name="fnm_1"><sup>1</sup></a> +Saádí, from his patron Atabag Saád bin +Zingí, sovereign of Fars, who encouraged men of learning in +his principality. Saádí is said to have lived upwards +of a hundred years, thirty of which were passed in the acquisition +of knowledge, thirty more in travelling through different +countries, and the rest of his life he spent in retirement and acts +of devotion. He died, in his native city, about the year 1291.</p> +<p>At one period of his life Saádí took part in the +wars of the Saracens against the Crusaders in Palestine, and also +in the wars for the faith in India. In the course of his wanderings +he had the misfortune to be taken prisoner by the Franks, in Syria, +and was ransomed by a friend, but only to fall into worse thraldom +by marrying a shrewish wife. He has thus related the +circumstances:</p> +<p>“Weary of the society of my friends at Damascus, I fled to +the barren wastes of Jerusalem, and associated with brutes, until I +was made captive by the Franks, and forced to dig clay along with +Jews in the fortress <span class="pagenum"><a id="page5" name= +"page5"></a>[pg 5]</span>of Tripoli. One of the nobles of Aleppo, +mine ancient friend, happened to pass that way and recollected me. +He said: ‘What a state is this to be in! How farest +thou?’ I answered: ‘Seeing that I could place +confidence in God alone, I retired to the mountains and wilds, to +avoid the society of man; but judge what must be my situation, to +be confined in a stall, in company with wretches who deserve not +the name of men. “To be confined by the feet with friends is +better than to walk in a garden with strangers.”’ He +took compassion on my forlorn condition, ransomed me from the +Franks for ten dínars,<a href="#fn_2" id="fnm_2" name= +"fnm_2"><sup>2</sup></a> and took me with him to Aleppo.</p> +<p>“My friend had a daughter, to whom he married me, and he +presented me with a hundred dínars as her dower. After some +time my wife unveiled her disposition, which was ill-tempered, +quarrelsome, obstinate, and abusive; so that the happiness of my +life vanished. It has been well said: ‘A bad woman in the +house of a virtuous man is hell even in this world.’ Take +care how you connect yourself with a bad woman. Save us, O Lord, +from the fiery trial! Once she reproached me, saying: ‘Art +thou not the creature whom my father ransomed from captivity +amongst the Franks for ten dínars?’ ‘Yes,’ +I answered; ‘he redeemed me for ten dínars, and +enslaved me to thee for a hundred.’</p> +<p>“I heard that a man once rescued a sheep from the mouth of +a wolf, but at night drew his knife across <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page6" name="page6"></a>[pg 6]</span>its throat. +The expiring sheep thus complained: ‘You delivered me from +the jaws of a wolf, but in the end I perceive you have yourself +become a wolf to me.’”</p> +<p>Sir Gore Ouseley, in his <i>Biographical Notices of Persian +Poets</i>, states that Saádí in the latter part of +his life retired to a cell near Shíráz, where he +remained buried in contemplation of the Deity, except when visited, +as was often the case, by princes, nobles, and learned men. It was +the custom of his illustrious visitors to take with them all kinds +of meats, of which, when Saádí and his company had +partaken, the shaykh always put what remained in a basket suspended +from his window, that the poor wood-cutters of +Shíráz, who daily passed by his cell, might +occasionally satisfy their hunger.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">The writings of Saádí, in prose +as well as verse, are numerous; his best known works being the +<i>Gulistán</i>, or Rose-Garden, and the +<i>Bustán</i>, or Garden of Odours. Among his other +compositions are: an essay on Reason and Love; Advice to Kings; +Arabian and Persian idylls, and a book of elegies, besides a large +collection of odes and sonnets. Saádí was an +accomplished linguist, and composed several poems in the languages +of many of the countries through which he travelled. “I have +wandered to various regions of the world,” he tells us, +“and everywhere have I mixed freely with the inhabitants. I +have gathered something in each corner; I have gleaned an ear from +every harvest.” A deep insight into the secret springs of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page7" name="page7"></a>[pg +7]</span>human actions; an extensive knowledge of mankind; fervent +piety, without a taint of bigotry; a poet’s keen appreciation +of the beauties of nature; together with a ready wit and a lively +sense of humour, are among the characteristics of +Saádí’s masterly compositions. No writer, +ancient or modern, European or Asiatic, has excelled, and few have +equalled, Saádí in that rare faculty for condensing +profound moral truths into short, pithy sentences. For example:</p> +<p>“The remedy against want is to moderate your +desires.”</p> +<p>“There is a difference between him who claspeth his +mistress in his arms, and him whose eyes are fixed on the door +expecting her.”</p> +<p>“Whoever recounts to you the faults of your neighbour will +doubtless expose your defects to others.”</p> +<p>His humorous comparisons flash upon the reader’s mind with +curious effect, occurring, as they often do, in the midst of a +grave discourse. Thus he says of a poor minstrel: “You would +say that the sound of his bow would burst the arteries, and that +his voice was more discordant than the lamentations of a man for +the death of his father;” and of another bad singer: +“No one with a mattock can so effectually scrape clay from +the face of a hard stone as his discordant voice harrows up the +soul.”</p> +<p>Talking of music reminds me of a remark of the learned Gentius, +in one of his notes on the <i>Gulistán</i> of +Saádí, that music was formerly in such consideration +in Persia that it was a maxim of their sages <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page8" name="page8"></a>[pg 8]</span>that when a +king was about to die, if he left for his successor a very young +son, his aptitude for reigning should be proved by some agreeable +songs; and if the child was pleasurably affected, then it was a +sign of his capacity and genius, but if the contrary, he should be +declared unfit.—It would appear that the old Persian +musicians, like Timotheus, knew the secret art of swaying the +passions. The celebrated philosopher Al-Farabí (who died +about the middle of the tenth century), among his accomplishments, +excelled in music, in proof of which a curious anecdote is told. +Returning from the pilgrimage to Mecca, he introduced himself, +though a stranger, at the court of Sayfú ’d-Dawla, +sultan of Syria, when a party of musicians chanced to be +performing, and he joined them. The prince admired his skill, and, +desiring to hear something of his own, Al-Farabí unfolded a +composition, and distributed the parts amongst the band. The first +movement threw the prince and his courtiers into violent laughter, +the next melted all into tears, and the last lulled even the +performers to sleep. At the retaking of Baghdád by the Turks +in 1638, when the springing of a mine, whereby eight hundred +jannisaries perished, was the signal for a general massacre, and +thirty thousand Persians were put to the sword, a Persian musician +named Sháh-Kúlí, who was brought before the +sultan Murád, played and sang so sweetly, first a song of +triumph, and then a dirge, that the sultan, moved to pity by the +music, gave order to stop the slaughter.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page9" name="page9"></a>[pg +9]</span>To resume, after this anecdotical digression. +Saádí gives this whimsical piece of advice to a +pugnacious fellow: “Be sure, either that thou art stronger +than thine enemy, or that thou hast a swifter pair of heels.” +And he relates a droll story in illustration of the use and abuse +of the phrase, “For the sake of God,” which is so +frequently in the mouths of Muslims: A harsh-voiced man was reading +the Kurán in a loud tone. A pious man passed by him and +said: “What is thy monthly salary?” The other replied: +“Nothing.” “Why, then, dost thou give thyself +this trouble?” “I read for the sake of God,” he +rejoined. “Then,” said the pious man, “<em>for +God’s sake don’t read</em>.”</p> +<p>The most esteemed of Saádí’s numerous and +diversified works is the <i>Gulistán</i>, or Rose-Garden. +The first English translation of this work was made by Francis +Gladwin, and published in 1808, and it is a very scarce book. Other +translations have since been issued, but they are rather costly and +the editions limited. It is strange that in these days of cheap +reprints of rare and excellent works of genius no enterprising +publisher should have thought it worth reproduction in a popular +form. It is not one of those ponderous tomes of useless learning +which not even an Act of Parliament could cause to be generally +read, and which no publisher would be so blind to his own interests +as to reprint. As regards its size, the <i>Gulistán</i> is +but a small book, but intrinsically it is indeed a very great book, +such as could only be <span class="pagenum"><a id="page10" name= +"page10"></a>[pg 10]</span>produced by a great mind, and it +comprises more wisdom and wit than a score of old English folios +could together yield to the most devoted reader. Some querulous +persons there are who affect to consider the present as a shallow +age, because, forsooth, huge volumes of learning—each the +labour of a lifetime—are not now produced. But the +flood-gates of knowledge are now wide open, and, no longer confined +within the old, narrow, if deep, channels, learning has spread +abroad, like the Nile during the season of its over-flow. Shallow, +it may be, but more widely beneficial, since its life-giving waters +are within the reach of all.</p> +<p>Unlike most of our learned old English authors, +Saádí did not cast upon the world all that came from +the rich mine of his genius, dross as well as fine gold, clay as +well as gems. It is because they have done so that many ponderous +tomes of learning and industry stand neglected on the shelves of +great libraries. Time is too precious now-a-days, whatever may have +been the case of our forefathers, for it to be dissipated by diving +into the muddy waters of voluminous authors in hopes of finding an +occasional pearl of wisdom. And unless some intelligent and +painstaking compiler set himself to the task of separating the gold +from the rubbish in which it is imbedded in those graves of +learning, and present the results of his labour in an attractive +form, such works are virtually lost to the world. For in these +high-pressure days, most of us, “like the dogs in Egypt for +fear of the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page11" name= +"page11"></a>[pg 11]</span>crocodiles, must drink of the waters of +knowledge as we run, in dread of the old enemy Time.”</p> +<p>Saádí, however, in his <i>Gulistán</i> sets +forth only his well-pondered thoughts in the most felicitous and +expressive language. There is no need to form an abstract or +epitome of a work in which nothing is superfluous, nothing +valueless. But, as in a cabinet of gems some are more beautiful +than others, or as in a garden some flowers are more attractive +from their brilliant hues and fragrant odours, so a selection may +be made of the more striking tales and aphorisms of the illustrious +Persian philosopher.</p> +<p>The preface to the <i>Gulistán</i> is one of the most +pleasing portions of the whole book. Now prefaces are among those +parts of books which are too frequently “skipped” by +readers—they are “taken as read.” Why this should +be so, I confess I cannot understand. For my part, I make a point +of reading a preface at least twice: first, because I would know +what reasons my author had for writing his book, and again, having +read his book, because the preface, if well written, may serve also +as a sort of appendix. Authors are said to bestow particular pains +on their prefaces. Cervantes, for instance, tells us that the +preface to the first part of <i>Don Quixote</i> cost him more +thought than the writing of the entire work. “It argues a +deficiency of taste,” says Isaac D’Israeli, “to +turn over an elaborate preface unread; for it is the essence of the +author’s roses—every drop distilled at an immense +cost.” And, no doubt, it is a great slight <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page12" name="page12"></a>[pg 12]</span>to an +author to skip his preface, though it cannot be denied that some +prefaces are very tedious, because the writer “spins out the +thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his +argument,” and none but the most <em>hardy</em> readers can +persevere to the distant end. The Italians call a preface <em>salsa +del libro</em>, the <em>salt</em> of the book. A preface may also +be likened to the porch of a mansion, where it is not courteous to +keep a visitor waiting long before you open the door and make him +free of your house. But the reader who passes over the preface to +the <i>Gulistán</i> unread loses not a little of the spice +of that fascinating and instructive book. He who reads it, however, +is rewarded by the charming account which the author gives of how +he came to form his literary Rose-Garden:</p> +<p>“It was the season of spring; the air was temperate and +the rose in full bloom. The vestments of the trees resembled the +festive garments of the fortunate. It was mid-spring, when the +nightingales were chanting from their pulpits in the branches. The +rose, decked with pearly dew, like blushes on the cheek of a +chiding mistress. It happened once that I was benighted in a +garden, in company with a friend. The spot was delightful: the +trees intertwined; you would have said that the earth was bedecked +with glass spangles, and that the knot of the Pleiades was +suspended from the branch of the vine. A garden with a running +stream, and trees whence birds were warbling melodious strains: +that filled with tulips of <span class="pagenum"><a id="page13" +name="page13"></a>[pg 13]</span>various hues; these loaded with +fruits of several kinds. Under the shade of its trees the zephyr +had spread the variegated carpet.</p> +<p>“In the morning, when the desire to return home overcame +our inclination to remain, I saw in my friend’s lap a +collection of roses, odoriferous herbs, and hyacinths, which he +intended to carry to town. I said: ‘You are not ignorant that +the flower of the garden soon fadeth, and that the enjoyment of the +rose-bush is of short continuance; and the sages have declared that +the heart ought not to be set upon anything that is +transitory.’ He asked: ‘What course is then to be +pursued?’ I replied: ‘I am able to form a book of +roses, which will delight the beholders and gratify those who are +present; whose leaves the tyrannic arm of autumnal blasts can never +affect, or injure the blossoms of its spring. What benefit will you +derive from a basket of flowers? Carry a leaf from my garden: a +rose may continue in bloom five or six days, but this Rose-Garden +will flourish for ever.’ As soon as I had uttered these +words, he flung the flowers from his lap, and, laying hold of the +skirt of my garment, exclaimed: ‘When the beneficent promise, +they faithfully discharge their engagements.’ In the course +of a few days two chapters were written in my note-book, in a style +that may be useful to orators and improve the skill of +letter-writers. In short, while the rose was still in bloom, the +book called the Rose-Garden was finished.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page14" name="page14"></a>[pg +14]</span>Dr. Johnson has remarked that “there is scarcely +any poet of eminence who has not left some testimony of his +fondness for the flowers, the zephyrs, and the warblers of the +spring.” This is pre-eminently the case of Oriental poets, +from Solomon downwards: “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and +come away,” exclaims the Hebrew poet in his Book of +Canticles: “for lo! the winter is past, the rain is over and +gone: the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of +birds has come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. +The fig-tree putteth forth her green fruits, and the vines with the +tender grapes give forth a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, +and come away.”</p> +<p>In a Persian poem written in the 14th century the delights of +the vernal season are thus described: “On every bush roses +were blowing; on every branch the nightingale was plaintively +warbling. The tall cypress was dancing in the garden; and the +poplar never ceased clapping its hands with joy. With a loud voice +from the top of every bough the turtle-dove was proclaiming the +glad advent of spring. The diadem of the narcissus shone with such +splendour that you would have said it was the crown of the Emperor +of China. On this side the north wind, on that, the west wind, +were, in token of affection, scattering dirhams at the feet of the +rose.<a href="#fn_3" id="fnm_3" name="fnm_3"><sup>3</sup></a> The +earth was musk-scented, the air musk-laden.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page15" name="page15"></a>[pg +15]</span>But it would be difficult to adduce from the writings of +any poet, European or Asiatic, anything to excel the charming ode +on spring, by the Turkish poet Mesíhí, who flourished +in the 15th century, which has been rendered into graceful English +verse, and in the measure of the original, by my friend Mr. E. J. +W. Gibb, in his dainty volume of <i>Ottoman Poems</i>, published in +London a few years ago. These are some of the verses from that fine +ode:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Hark! the bulbul’s<a href="#fn_4" id="fnm_4" name= +"fnm_4"><sup>4</sup></a> lay so joyous: “Now have come the +days of spring!”</p> +<p>Merry shows and crowds on every mead they spread, a maze of +spring;</p> +<p>There the almond-tree its silvery blossoms scatters, sprays of +spring:</p> +<p><em>Gaily live! for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of +spring!</em><a href="#fn_5" id="fnm_5" name= +"fnm_5"><sup>5</sup></a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page16" name="page16"></a>[pg +16]</span>Once again, with flow’rets decked themselves have +mead and plain;</p> +<p>Tents for pleasure have the blossoms raised in every rosy +lane;</p> +<p>Who can tell, when spring hath ended, who and what may whole +remain?</p> +<p><em>Gaily live! for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of +spring!</em></p> +</div> +<hr class="short" /> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Sparkling dew-drops stud the lily’s leaf like sabre broad +and keen;</p> +<p>Bent on merry gipsy party, crowd they all the flow’ry +green!</p> +<p>List to me, if thou desirest, these beholding, joy to glean:</p> +<p><em>Gaily live! for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of +spring!</em></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Rose and tulip, like to maidens’ cheeks, all beauteous +show,</p> +<p>Whilst the dew-drops, like the jewels in their ears, resplendent +glow;</p> +<p>Do not think, thyself beguiling, things will aye continue +so:</p> +<p><em>Gaily live! for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of +spring!</em></p> +</div> +<hr class="short" /> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Whilst each dawn the clouds are shedding jewels o’er the +rosy land,</p> +<p>And the breath of morning zephyr, fraught with +Tátár musk, is bland;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page17" name="page17"></a>[pg +17]</span>Whilst the world’s fair time is present, do not +thou unheeding stand:</p> +<p><em>Gaily live! for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of +spring!</em></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>With the fragrance of the garden, so imbued the musky air,</p> +<p>Every dew-drop, ere it reaches earth, is turned to attar +rare;</p> +<p>O’er the parterre spread the incense-clouds a canopy right +fair:</p> +<p><em>Gaily live! for soon will vanish, Biding not, the days of +spring!</em></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>This Turkish poet’s maxim, it will be observed, was +“enjoy the present day”—the <em>carpe diem</em> +of Horace, the genial old pagan. On the same suggestive theme of +Springtide a celebrated Turkish poetess, Fitnet Khánim (for +the Ottoman Turks have poetesses of considerable genius as well as +poets), has composed a pleasing ode, addressed to her lord, of +which the following stanzas are also from Mr. Gibb’s +collection:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The fresh spring-clouds across all earth their glistening pearls +profuse now sow;</p> +<p>The flowers, too, all appearing, forth the radiance of their +beauty show;</p> +<p>Of mirth and joy ’tis now the time, the hour, to wander to +and fro;</p> +<p>The palm-tree o’er the fair ones’ pic-nic gay its +grateful shade doth throw.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><em>O Liege, come forth! From end to end with verdure doth the +whole earth glow;</em></p> +<p><em>’Tis springtide once again, once more the tulips and +the roses blow!</em></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page18" name="page18"></a>[pg +18]</span>Behold the roses, how they shine, e’en like the +cheeks of maids most fair;</p> +<p>The fresh-sprung hyacinth shows like to beauties’ dark, +sweet, musky hair;</p> +<p>The loved one’s form behold, like cypress which the +streamlet’s bank doth bear;</p> +<p>In sooth, each side for soul and heart doth some delightful joy +prepare.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><em>O Liege, come forth! From end to end with verdure doth the +whole earth glow;</em></p> +<p><em>’Tis springtide once again, once more the tulips and +the roses blow!</em></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The parterre’s flowers have all bloomed forth, the roses, +sweetly smiling, shine;</p> +<p>On every side lorn nightingales, in plaintive notes discerning, +pine.</p> +<p>How fair carnation and wallflower the borders of the garden +line!</p> +<p>The long-haired hyacinth and jasmine both around the cypress +twine.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><em>O Liege, come forth! From end to end with verdure doth the +whole earth glow;</em></p> +<p><em>’Tis springtide once again, once more the tulips and +the roses blow!</em></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>I cannot resist the temptation to cite, in concluding this +introductory paper, another fine eulogy of the delights of spring, +by Amír Khusrú, of Delhi (14th century), from his +<i>Mihra-i-Iskandar</i>, which has been thus rendered into +rhythmical prose:</p> +<p>“A day in spring, when all the world a pleasing picture +seemed; the sun at early dawn with happy auspices arose. The earth +was bathed in balmy dew; the beauties of the garden their charms +displayed, the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page19" name= +"page19"></a>[pg 19]</span>face of each with brilliancy adorned. +The flowers in freshness bloomed; the lamp of the rose acquired +lustre from the breeze; the tulip brought a cup from paradise; the +rose-bower shed the sweets of Eden; beneath its folds the musky +buds remained, like a musky amulet on the neck of Beauty. The +violet bent its head; the fold of the bud was closer pressed; the +opened rose in splendour glowed, and attracted every eye; the +lovely flowers oppressed with dew in tremulous motion waved. The +air o’er all the garden a silvery radiance threw, and +o’er the flowers the breezes played; on every branch the +birds attuned their notes, and every bower with warblings sweet was +filled, so sweet, they stole the senses. The early nightingale +poured forth its song, that gives a zest to those who quaff the +morning goblet. From the turtle’s soft cooings love seized +each bird that skimmed the air.”</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Flowers_2" name= +"Flowers_2"></a>II</h3> +<p class="small cen">STORIES FROM THE +“GULISTÁN.”</p> +<p>The <i>Gulistán</i> consists of short tales and +anecdotes, to which are appended comments in prose and verse, and +is divided into eight chapters, or sections: (1) the Morals of +Kings; (2) the Morals of Dervishes; (3) the Excellence of +Contentment; (4) the Advantages of Taciturnity; (5) Love and Youth; +(6) Imbecility and Old Age; (7) the Effects of Education; (8) Rules +for the Conduct of Life. In culling some of the choicest +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page20" name="page20"></a>[pg +20]</span>flowers of this perennial Garden, the particular order +observed by Saádí need not be regarded here; it is +preferable to pick here a flower and there a flower, as fancy may +direct.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">It may happen, says our author, that the +prudent counsel of an enlightened sage does not succeed; and it may +chance that an unskilful boy inadvertently hits the mark with his +arrow: A Persian king, while on a pleasure excursion with a number +of his courtiers at Nassála Shíráz, appointed +an archery competition for the amusement of himself and his +friends. He caused a gold ring, set with a valuable gem, to be +fixed on the dome of Asád, and it was announced that +whosoever should send an arrow through the ring should obtain it as +a reward of his skill. The four hundred skilled archers forming the +royal body-guard each shot at the ring without success. It chanced +that a boy on a neighbouring house-top was at the same time +diverting himself with a little bow, when one of his arrows, shot +at random, went through the ring. The boy, having obtained the +prize, immediately burned his bow, shrewdly observing that he did +so in order that the reputation of this feat should never be +impaired.</p> +<p>The advantage of abstinence, or rather, great moderation in +eating and drinking, is thus curiously illustrated: Two dervishes +travelled together; one was a robust man, who regularly ate three +meals every day, the other was infirm of body, and accustomed +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page21" name="page21"></a>[pg +21]</span>to fast frequently for two days in succession. On their +reaching the gate of a certain town, they were arrested on +suspicion of being spies, and both lodged, without food, in the +same prison, the door of which was then securely locked. Several +days after, the unlucky dervishes were found to be quite innocent +of the crime imputed to them, and on opening the door of the prison +the strong man was discovered to be dead, and the infirm man still +alive. At this circumstance the officers of justice marvelled; but +a philosopher observed, that had the contrary happened it would +have been more wonderful, since the one who died had been a great +eater, and consequently was unable to endure the want of food, +while the other, being accustomed to abstinence, had survived.</p> +<p>Of Núshírván the Just (whom the Greeks +called Chosroe), of the Sassanian dynasty of Persian +kings—sixth century—Saádí relates that on +one occasion, while at his hunting-seat, he was having some game +dressed, and ordered a servant to procure some salt from a +neighbouring village, at the same time charging him strictly to pay +the full price for it, otherwise the exaction might become a +custom. His courtiers were surprised at this order, and asked the +king what possible harm could ensue from such a trifle. The good +king replied: “Oppression was brought into the world from +small beginnings, which every new comer increased, until it has +reached the present degree of enormity.” Upon this +Saádí remarks: “If the <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page22" name="page22"></a>[pg 22]</span>monarch +were to eat a single apple from the garden of a peasant, the +servant would pull up the tree by the roots; and if the king order +five eggs to be taken by force, his soldiers will spit a thousand +fowls. The iniquitous tyrant remaineth not, but the curses of +mankind rest on him for ever.”</p> +<p>Only those who have experienced danger can rightly appreciate +the advantages of safety, and according as a man has become +acquainted with adversity does he recognise the value of +prosperity—a sentiment which Saádí illustrates +by the story of a boy who was in a vessel at sea for the first +time, in which were also the king and his officers of state. The +lad was in great fear of being drowned, and made a loud outcry, in +spite of every effort of those around him to soothe him into +tranquility. As his lamentations annoyed the king, a sage who was +of the company offered to quiet the terrified youth, with his +majesty’s permission, which being granted, he caused the boy +to be plunged several times in the sea and then drawn up into the +ship, after which the youth retired to a corner and remained +perfectly quiet. The king inquired why the lad had been subjected +to such roughness, to which the sage replied: “At first he +had never experienced the danger of being drowned, neither had he +known the safety of a ship.”</p> +<p>One of our English moralists has remarked that the man who +chiefly prides himself on his ancestry is like a potato-plant, +whose best qualities are under ground. Saádí tells us +of an old Arab who said to his son: “O <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page23" name="page23"></a>[pg 23]</span>my child, +in the day of resurrection they will ask you what you have done in +the world, and not from whom you are descended.”—In the +<i>Akhlák-i-Jalaly</i>, a work comprising the practical +philosophy of the Muhammedans, written, in the 15th century, in the +Persian language, by Fakír Jání Muhammed +Asaád, and translated into English by W. F. Thompson, +Alí, the Prophet’s cousin, is reported to have +said:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>My soul is my father, my title my worth;</p> +<p>A Persian or Arab, there’s little between:</p> +<p>Give me him for a comrade, whatever his birth,</p> +<p>Who shows what <em>he is</em>—not what <em>others have +been</em>.</p> +</div> +<p>An Arabian poet says:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Be the son of whom thou wilt, try to acquire literature,</p> +<p>The acquisition of which may make pedigree unnecessary to +thee;</p> +<p>Since a man of worth is he who can say, “I am so and +so,”</p> +<p>Not he who can only say, “My father was so and +so.”</p> +</div> +<p>And again:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Ask not a man who his father was, but make trial</p> +<p>Of his qualities, and then conciliate or reject him +accordingly</p> +<p>For it is no disgrace to new wine, if it only be sweet,</p> +<p>As to its taste, that it was the juice [or daughter] of sour +grapes.</p> +</div> +<p>The often-quoted maxim of La Rochefoucauld, that there is +something in the misfortunes of our friends which affords us a +degree of secret pleasure, is well known to the Persians. +Saádí tells us of a merchant who, having lost a +thousand dínars, cautioned his son not to mention the matter +to anyone, “in order,” said he, “that we may not +suffer two misfortunes—the loss of our money and the secret +satisfaction of our neighbours.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page24" name="page24"></a>[pg +24]</span>A generous disposition is thus eloquently recommended: +They asked a wise man, which was preferable, fortitude or +liberality, to which he replied: “He who possesses liberality +has no need of fortitude. It is inscribed on the tomb of +Bahram-i-Gúr that a liberal hand is preferable to a strong +arm.” “Hátim Taï,” remarks +Saádí, “no longer exists, but his exalted name +will remain famous for virtue to eternity.<a href="#fn_6" id= +"fnm_6" name="fnm_6"><sup>6</sup></a> Distribute the tithe of your +wealth in alms, for when the husbandman lops off the exuberant +branches from the vine, it produces an increase of +grapes.”</p> +<p>Prodigality, however, is as much to be condemned as judicious +liberality is to be lauded. Saádí gives the following +account of a Persian prodigal son, who was not so fortunate in the +end as his biblical prototype: The son of a religious man, who +succeeded to an immense fortune by the will of his uncle, became a +dissipated and debauched profligate, in so much that he left no +heinous crime unpractised, nor was there any intoxicating drug +which he had not tasted. Once I admonished him, saying: “O my +son, wealth is a running stream, and pleasure revolves like a +millstone; or, in other words, profuse expense suits him only who +has a certain income. When you have no certain income, be frugal in +your expenses, because the sailors have a song, that if the rain +does not fall in the mountains, the Tigris will become a dry bed of +sand in the course of a year. Practise wisdom and <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page25" name="page25"></a>[pg 25]</span>virtue, +and relinquish sensuality, for when your money is spent you will +suffer distress and expose yourself to shame.”<a href="#fn_7" +id="fnm_7" name="fnm_7"><sup>7</sup></a> The young man, seduced by +music and wine, would not take my advice, but, in opposition to my +arguments, said: “It is contrary to the wisdom of the sages +to disturb our present enjoyments by the dread of futurity. Why +should they who possess fortune suffer distress by anticipating +sorrow? Go and be merry, O my enchanting friend! We ought not to be +uneasy to-day for what may happen to-morrow. How would it become +me, who am placed in the uppermost seat of liberality, so that the +fame of my bounty is wide spread? When a man has acquired +reputation by liberality and munificence, it does not become him to +tie up his money-bags. When your good name has been spread through +the street, you cannot shut your door against it.” I +perceived (continues Saádí) that he did not approve +of my admonition, and that my warm breath did not affect his cold +iron. I ceased advising, and, quitting his society, returned into +the corner of safety, in conformity with the saying of the +philosophers: “Admonish and exhort as your charity requires; +if they mind not, it does not concern you. Although thou knowest +that they will not listen, nevertheless <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page26" name="page26"></a>[pg 26]</span>speak +whatever you know is advisable. It will soon come to pass that you +will see the silly fellow with his feet in the stocks, smiting his +hands and exclaiming, ‘Alas, that I did not listen to the +wise man’s advice!’” After some time, that which +I had predicted from his dissolute conduct I saw verified. He was +clothed in rags, and begging a morsel of food. I was distressed at +his wretched condition, and did not think it consistent with +humanity to scratch his wound with reproach. But I said in my +heart: Profligate men, when intoxicated with pleasure, reflect not +on the day of poverty. The tree which in the summer has a profusion +of fruit is consequently without leaves in winter.</p> +<p>The incapacity of some youths to receive instruction is always a +source of vexation to the pedagogue. Saádí tells us +of a vazír who sent his stupid son to a learned man, +requesting him to impart some of his knowledge to the lad, hoping +that his mind would be improved. After attempting to instruct him +for some time without effect, he sent this message to his father: +“Your son has no capacity, and has almost distracted me. When +nature has given capacity instruction will make impressions; but if +iron is not of the proper temper, no polishing will make it good. +Wash not a dog in the seven seas, for when he is wetted he will +only be the dirtier. If the ass that carried Jesus Christ were to +be taken to Mecca, at his return he would still be an +ass.”</p> +<p>One of the greatest sages of antiquity is reported <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page27" name="page27"></a>[pg 27]</span>to have +said that all the knowledge he had acquired merely taught him how +little he did know; and indeed it is only smatterers who are vain +of their supposed knowledge. A sensible young man, says +Saádí, who had made considerable progress in learning +and virtue, was at the same time so discreet that he would sit in +the company of learned men without uttering a word. Once his father +said to him: “My son, why do you not also say something you +know?” He replied: “I fear lest they should question me +about something of which I am ignorant, whereby I should suffer +shame.”</p> +<p>The advantages of education are thus set forth by a philosopher +who was exhorting his children: “Acquire knowledge, for in +worldly riches and possessions no reliance can be placed.<a href= +"#fn_8" id="fnm_8" name="fnm_8"><sup>8</sup></a> Rank will be of no +use out of your own country; and on a journey money is in danger of +being lost, for either the thief may carry it off all at once, or +the possessor may consume it by degrees. But knowledge is a +perennial spring of wealth, and if a man of education cease to be +opulent, yet he need not be sorrowful, for knowledge of itself is +riches.<a href="#fn_9" id="fnm_9" name="fnm_9"><sup>9</sup></a> A +man of learning, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page28" name= +"page28"></a>[pg 28]</span>wheresoever he goes, is treated with +respect, and sits in the uppermost seat, whilst the ignorant man +gets only scanty fare and encounters distress.” There once +happened (adds Saádí) an insurrection in Damascus, +where every one deserted his habitation. The wise sons of a peasant +became the king’s ministers, and the stupid sons of the +vazír were reduced to ask charity in the villages. If you +want a paternal inheritance, acquire from your father knowledge, +for wealth may be spent in ten days.</p> +<p>In the following charming little tale Saádí +recounts an interesting incident in his own life: I remember that +in my youth, as I was passing through a street, I cast my eyes on a +beautiful girl. It was in the autumn, when the heat dried up all +moisture from the mouth, and the sultry wind made the marrow boil +in the bones, so that, being unable to support the sun’s +powerful rays, I was obliged to take shelter under the shade of a +wall, in hopes that some one would relieve me from the distressing +heat, and quench my thirst with a draught of water. Suddenly from +the portico of a house I beheld a female form whose beauty it is +impossible for the tongue of eloquence to describe, insomuch that +it seemed as if the dawn was rising in the obscurity of night, or +as if the Water of Immortality was issuing from the Land of +Darkness. She held in her hand a cup of snow-water, into which she +had sprinkled sugar and mixed with it the juice of the grape. I +know not whether what I perceived was the fragrance of rose-water, +or that she had <span class="pagenum"><a id="page29" name= +"page29"></a>[pg 29]</span>infused into it a few drops from the +blossom of her cheek. In short, I received the cup from her +beauteous hand, and, drinking the contents, found myself restored +to new life. The thirst of my soul is not such that it can be +allayed with a drop of pure water—the streams of whole rivers +would not satisfy it. How happy is that fortunate one whose eyes +every morning may behold such a countenance! He who is intoxicated +with wine will be sober again in the course of the night; but he +who is intoxicated by the cup-bearer will never recover his senses +till the day of judgment.</p> +<p>Alas, poor Saádí! The lovely cup-bearer, who made +such a lasting impression on the heart of the young poet, was not +destined for his bride. His was indeed a sad matrimonial fate; and +who can doubt but that the beauteous form of the stranger maiden +would often rise before his mental view after he was married to the +Xantippe who rendered some portion of his life unhappy!</p> +<p>Among the tales under the heading of “Imbecility and Old +Age” we have one of “oldé January that wedded +was to freshé May,” which points its moral now as it +did six hundred years ago: When I married a young virgin, said an +old man, I bedecked a chamber with flowers, sat with her alone, and +had fixed my eyes and heart solely upon her. Many long nights I +passed without sleep, repeating jests and pleasantries, to remove +shyness, and make her familiar. On one of these nights I said: +“Fortune has been propitious to <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page30" name="page30"></a>[pg 30]</span>you, in that you have +fallen into the society of an old man, of mature judgment, who has +seen the world, and experienced various situations of good and bad +fortune, who knows the rights of society, and has performed the +duties of friendship;—one who is affectionate, affable, +cheerful, and conversable. I will exert my utmost endeavours to +gain your affection, and if you should treat me unkindly I will not +be offended; or if, like the parrot, your food should be sugar, I +will devote my sweet life to your support. You have not met with a +youth of a rude disposition, with a weak understanding, headstrong, +a gadder, who would be constantly changing his situations and +inclinations, sleeping every night in a new place, and every day +forming some new intimacy. Young men may be lively and handsome, +but they are inconstant in their attachments. Look not thou for +fidelity from those who, with the eyes of the nightingale, are +every instant singing upon a different rose-bush. But old men pass +their time in wisdom and good manners, not in the ignorance and +frivolity of youth. Seek one better than yourself, and having found +him, consider yourself fortunate. With one like yourself you would +pass your life without improvement.” I spoke a great deal +after this manner (continued the old man), and thought that I had +made a conquest of her heart, when suddenly she heaved a cold sigh +from the bottom of her heart, and replied: “All the fine +speeches that you have been uttering have not so much weight in the +scale of my reason as one single sentence I have heard <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page31" name="page31"></a>[pg 31]</span>from my +nurse, that if you plant an arrow in the side of a young woman it +is not so painful as the society of an old man.” In short +(continued he), it was impossible to agree, and our differences +ended in a separation. After the time prescribed by law, she +married a young man of an impetuous temper, ill-natured, and in +indigent circumstances, so that she suffered the injuries of +violence, with the evils of penury. Nevertheless she returned +thanks for her lot, and said: “God be praised that I escaped +from infernal torment, and have obtained this permanent blessing. +Amidst all your violence and impetuosity of temper, I will put up +with your airs, because you are handsome. It is better to burn with +you in hell than to be in paradise with the other. The scent of +onions from a beautiful mouth is more fragrant than the odour of +the rose from the hand of one who is ugly.”</p> +<p>It must be allowed that this old man put his own case to his +young wife with very considerable address: yet, such is +woman-nature, she chose to be “a young man’s slave +rather than an old man’s darling.” And, +<em>apropos</em>, Saádí has another story which may +be added to the foregoing: An old man was asked why he did not +marry. He answered: “I should not like an old woman.” +“Then marry a young one, since you have property.” +Quoth he: “Since I, who am an old man, should not be pleased +with an old woman, how can I expect that a young one would be +attached to me?”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page32" name="page32"></a>[pg +32]</span>“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,” +says our great dramatist, in proof of which take this story: A +certain king, when arrived at the end of his days, having no heir, +directed in his will that the morning after his death the first +person who entered the gate of the city they should place on his +head the crown of royalty, and commit to his charge the government +of the kingdom. It happened that the first to enter the city was a +dervish, who all his life had collected victuals from the +charitable and sewed patch on patch. The ministers of state and the +nobles of the court carried out the king’s will, bestowing on +him the kingdom and the treasure. For some time the dervish +governed the kingdom, until part of the nobility swerved their +necks from obedience to him, and all the neighbouring monarchs, +engaging in hostile confederacies, attacked him with their armies. +In short, the troops and peasantry were thrown into confusion, and +he lost the possession of some territories. The dervish was +distressed at these events, when an old friend, who had been his +companion in the days of poverty, returned from a journey, and, +finding him in such an exalted state, said: “Praised be the +God of excellence and glory, that your high fortune has aided you +and prosperity been your guide, so that a rose has issued from the +brier, and the thorn has been extracted from your foot, and you +have arrived at this dignity. Of a truth, joy succeeds sorrow; the +bud does sometimes blossom and sometimes wither; the tree is +sometimes <span class="pagenum"><a id="page33" name= +"page33"></a>[pg 33]</span>naked and sometimes clothed.” He +replied: “O brother, condole with me, for this is not a time +for congratulation. When you saw me last, I was only anxious how to +obtain bread; but now I have all the cares of the world to +encounter. If the times are adverse, I am in pain; and if they are +prosperous, I am captivated with worldly enjoyments. There is no +calamity greater than worldly affairs, because they distress the +heart in prosperity as well as in adversity. If you want riches, +seek only for contentment, which is inestimable wealth. If the rich +man would throw money into your lap, consider not yourself obliged +to him, for I have often heard that the patience of the poor is +preferable to the liberality of the rich.”</p> +<p>Muezzins, who call the faithful to prayer at the prescribed +hours from the minarets of the mosques, are generally blind men, as +a man with his eyesight might spy into the domestic privacy of the +citizens, who sleep on the flat roofs of their houses in the hot +season, and are selected for their sweetness of voice. +Saádí, however, tells us of a man who performed +gratuitously the office of muezzin, and had such a voice as +disgusted all who heard it. The intendant of the mosque, a good, +humane man, being unwilling to offend him, said one day: “My +friend, this mosque has muezzins of long standing, each of whom has +a monthly stipend of ten dínars. Now I will give you ten +dínars to go to another place.” The man agreed to this +and went away. Some time after he came to the intendant and said: +“O, my lord, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page34" name= +"page34"></a>[pg 34]</span>you injured me in sending me away from +this station for ten dínars; for where I went they will give +me twenty dínars to remove to another place, to which I have +not consented.” The intendant laughed, and said: “Take +care—don’t accept of the offer, for they may be willing +to give you fifty.”</p> +<p>To those who have “music in their souls,” and are +“moved by concord of sweet sounds,” the tones of a +harsh voice are excruciating; and if among our statesmen and other +public speakers “silver tongues” are rare, they are +much more so among our preachers. The Church of Rome does not admit +into the priesthood men who have any bodily shortcoming or defect; +it would also be well if all candidates for holy orders in the +English and Scottish Churches whose voices are not at least +tolerable were rejected, as unfit to preach! Saádí +seems to have had a great horror of braying orators, and relates a +number of anecdotes about them, such as this: A preacher who had a +detestable voice, but thought he had a very sweet one, bawled out +to no purpose. You would say the croaking of the crow in the desert +was the burden of his song, and that this verse of the Kurán +was intended for him, “Verily the most detestable of sounds +is the braying of an ass.” When this ass of a preacher +brayed, it made Persepolis tremble. The people of the town, on +account of the respectability of his office, submitted to the +calamity, and did not think it advisable to molest him, until one +of the neighbouring preachers, who was secretly ill-disposed +towards him, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page35" name= +"page35"></a>[pg 35]</span>came once to see him, and said: “I +have had a dream—may it prove good!” “What did +you dream?” “I thought you had a sweet voice, and that +the people were enjoying tranquility from your discourse.” +The preacher, after reflecting a little, replied: “What a +happy dream is this that you have had, which has discovered to me +my defect, in that I have an unpleasant voice, and that the people +are distressed at my preaching. I am resolved that in future I will +read only in a low tone. The company of friends was disadvantageous +to me, because they look on my bad manners as excellent: my defects +appear to them skill and perfection, and my thorn as the rose and +the jasmin.”</p> +<p>Our author, as we have seen, enlivens his moral discourses +occasionally with humorous stories, and one or two more of these +may fittingly close the present section: One of the slaves of +Amrúlais having run away, a person was sent in pursuit of +him and brought him back. The vazír, being inimical to him, +commanded him to be put to death in order to deter other slaves +from committing the like offence. The slave prostrated himself +before Amrúlais and said: “Whatever may happen to me +with your approbation is lawful—what plea can the slave offer +against the sentence of his lord? But, seeing that I have been +brought up under the bounties of your house, I do not wish that at +the resurrection you shall be charged with my blood. If you are +resolved to kill your slave, do so comformably to the +interpretation of the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page36" name= +"page36"></a>[pg 36]</span>law, in order that at the resurrection +you may not suffer reproach.” The king asked: “After +what manner shall I expound it?” The slave replied: +“Give me leave to kill the vazír, and then, in +retaliation for him, order me to be put to death, that you may kill +me justly.” The king laughed, and asked the vazír what +was his advice in this matter. Quoth the vazír: “O my +lord, as an offering to the tomb of your father, liberate this +rogue, in order that I may not also fall into this calamity. The +crime is on my side, for not having observed the words of the +sages, who say, ‘When you combat with one who flings clods of +earth, you break your own head by your folly: when you shoot at the +face of your enemy, be careful that you sit out of his +aim.’”—And not a little wit, too, did the +kází exhibit when detected by the king in an intrigue +with a farrier’s daughter, and his Majesty gave order that he +should be flung from the top of the castle, “as an example +for others”; to which the kází replied: +“O monarch of the universe, I have been fostered in your +family, and am not singular in the commission of such crimes; +therefore, I ask you to precipitate some one else, in order that I +may benefit by the example.” The king laughed at his wit, and +spared his life.—Nor is this tale without a spice of humour: +An astrologer entered his house and finding a stranger in company +with his wife abused him, and called him such opprobrious names +that a quarrel and strife ensued. A shrewd man, being informed of +this, said to the astrologer: “What <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page37" name="page37"></a>[pg 37]</span>do you +know of the heavenly bodies, when you cannot tell what goes on in +your own house?”<a href="#fn_10" id="fnm_10" name= +"fnm_10"><sup>10</sup></a>—Last, and perhaps best of all, is +this one: I was hesitating about concluding a bargain for a house, +when a Jew said: “I am an old householder in that quarter; +inquire of me the description of the house, and buy it, for it has +no fault.” I replied: “Excepting that you are one of +the neighbours!”</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Flowers_3" name= +"Flowers_3"></a>III</h3> +<p class="small cen">ANECDOTES AND APHORISMS FROM THE +“GULISTÁN,” WITH ANALOGUES—CONCLUSION.</p> +<p>Besides the maxims comprised in the concluding chapter of the +<i>Gulistán</i>, under the heading of “Rules for the +Conduct of Life,” many others, of great pith and moment, are +interspersed with the tales and anecdotes which Saádí +recounts in the preceding chapters, a selection of which can hardly +fail to prove both instructive and interesting.</p> +<p>It is related that at the court of +Núshírván, king <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page38" name="page38"></a>[pg 38]</span>of Persia, a number of +wise men were discussing a difficult question; and Buzurjmihr (his +famous prime minister), being silent, was asked why he did not take +part in the debate. He answered: “Ministers are like +physicians, and the physician gives medicine to the sick only. +Therefore, when I see your opinions are judicious, it would not be +consistent with wisdom for me to obtrude my sentiments. When a +matter can be managed without my interference it is not proper for +me to speak on the subject. But if I see a blind man in the way of +a well, should I keep silence it were a crime.” On another +occasion, when some Indian sages were discoursing on his virtue, +they could discover in him only this fault, that he hesitated in +his speech, so that his hearers were kept a long time in suspense +before he delivered his sentiments. Buzurjmihr overheard their +conversation and observed: “It is better to deliberate before +I speak than to repent of what I have said.”<a href="#fn_11" +id="fnm_11" name="fnm_11"><sup>11</sup></a></p> +<p>A parallel to this last saying of the Persian vazír is +found in a “notable sentence” of a wise Greek, in this +passage from the <i>Dictes, or Sayings of Philosophers</i>, printed +by Caxton (I have modernised the spelling):</p> +<p>“There came before a certain king three wise men, a +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page39" name="page39"></a>[pg +39]</span>Greek, a Jew, and a Saracen, of whom the said king +desired that each of them would utter some good and notable +sentence. Then the Greek said: ‘I may well correct and amend +my thoughts, but not my words.’ The Jew said: ‘I marvel +of them that say things prejudicial, when silence were more +profitable.’ The Saracen said: ‘I am master of my words +ere they are pronounced; but when they are spoken I am servant +thereto.’ And it was asked one of them: ‘Who might be +called a king?’ And he answered: ‘He that is not +subject to his own will.’”</p> +<p>The <i>Dictes, or Sayings of Philosophers</i>, of which, I +believe, but one perfect copy is extant, was translated from the +French by Earl Rivers, and printed by Caxton, at Westminister, in +the year 1477, as we learn from the colophon. I am not aware that +any one has taken the trouble to trace to their sources all the +sayings comprised in this collection, but I think the original of +the above is to be found in the following, from the preface to the +Arabian version (from the Pahlaví, the ancient language of +Persia) of the celebrated Fables of Bidpaï, entitled +<i>Kalíla wa Dimna</i>, made in the year 754:</p> +<p>“The four kings of China, India, Persia, and Greece, being +together, agreed each of them to deliver a saying which might be +recorded to their honour in after ages. The king of China said: +‘I have more power over that which I have not spoken than I +have to recall what has once passed my lips.’ The king of +India: ‘I have been often struck with the risk of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page40" name="page40"></a>[pg +40]</span>speaking; for if a man be heard in his own praise it is +unprofitable boasting, and what he says to his own discredit is +injurious in its consequences.’ The king of Persia: ‘I +am the slave of what I have spoken, but the master of what I +conceal.’ The king of Greece: ‘I have never regretted +the silence which I had imposed upon myself; though I have often +repented of the words I have uttered;<a href="#fn_12" id="fnm_12" +name="fnm_12"><sup>12</sup></a> for silence is attended with +advantage, whereas loquacity is often followed by incurable +evils.’”</p> +<p>The Persian poet Jámí—the last of the +brilliant galaxy of genius who enriched the literature of their +country, and who flourished two centuries after Saádí +had passed to his rest—reproduces these sayings of the four +kings in his work entitled <i>Baháristán</i>, or +Abode of Spring, which is similar in design to the +<i>Gulistán</i>.</p> +<p>Among the sayings of other wise men (whose names, however, +Saádí does not mention) are the following: A devotee, +who had quitted his monastery and become a member of a college, +being asked what difference there is between a learned man and a +religious man to induce him thus to change his associates, +answered: “The devotee saves his own blanket out of the +waves, and the learned man endeavours to save others from +drowning.”—A young man complained to his spiritual +guide of his studies being frequently interrupted by idle and +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page41" name="page41"></a>[pg +41]</span>impudent visitors, and desired to know by what means he +might rid himself of the annoyance. The sage replied: “To +such as are poor lend money, and of such as are rich ask money, +and, depend upon it, you will never see one of them +again.”</p> +<p>Saádí’s own aphorisms are not less striking +and instructive. They are indeed calculated to stimulate the +faltering to manly exertion, and to counsel the inexperienced. It +is to youthful minds, however, that the “words of the +wise” are more especially addressed; for it is during the +spring-time of life that the seeds of good and evil take root; and +so we find the sage Hebrew king frequently addressing his maxims to +the young: “My son,” is his formula, “my son, +attend to my words, and bow thine ear to my understanding; that +thou mayest regard discretion, and that thy lips may keep +knowledge.” And the “good and notable sentences” +of Saádí are well worthy of being treasured by the +young man on the threshold of life. For example:</p> +<p>“Life is snow, and the summer advanceth; only a small +portion remaineth: art thou still slothful?”</p> +<p>This warning has been reiterated by moralists in all ages and +countries;—the Great Teacher says: “Work while it is +day, for the night cometh when no man can work.” And +Saádí, in one of his sermons (which is found in +another of his books), recounts this beautiful fable, in +illustration of the fortunes of the slothful and the +industrious:</p> +<p>It is related that in a certain garden a Nightingale +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page42" name="page42"></a>[pg +42]</span>had built his nest on the bough of a rose-bush. It so +happened that a poor little Ant had fixed her dwelling at the root +of this same bush, and managed as best she could to store her +wretched hut of care with winter provision. Day and night was the +Nightingale fluttering round the rose-bower, and tuning the +barbut<a href="#fn_13" id="fnm_13" name="fnm_13"><sup>13</sup></a> +of his soul-deluding melody; indeed, whilst the Ant was night and +day industriously occupied, the thousand-songed bird seemed +fascinated with his own sweet voice, echoing amidst the trees. The +Nightingale was whispering his secret to the Rose,<a href="#fn_14" +id="fnm_14" name="fnm_14"><sup>14</sup></a> and that, full-blown by +the zephyr of the dawn, would ogle him in return. The poor Ant +could not help admiring the coquettish airs of the Rose, and the +gay blandishments of the Nightingale, and incontinently remarking: +“Time alone can disclose what may be the end of this +frivolity and talk!” After the flowery season of summer was +gone, and the black time of winter was come, thorns took the +station of the Rose, and the raven the perch of the Nightingale. +The storms of autumn raged in fury, and the foliage of the grove +was shed upon the ground. The cheek of the leaf was turned yellow, +and the breath of the wind was chill and blasting. The gathering +cloud poured down hailstones, like pearls, and flakes of snow +floated like camphor on the bosom of the air. Suddenly the +Nightingale returned into the garden, but he met neither the bloom +of the Rose nor fragrance <span class="pagenum"><a id="page43" +name="page43"></a>[pg 43]</span>of the spikenard; notwithstanding +his thousand-songed tongue, he stood stupified and mute, for he +could discover no flower whose form he might admire, nor any +verdure whose freshness he might enjoy. The Thorn turned round to +him and said: “How long, silly bird, wouldst thou be courting +the society of the Rose? Now is the season that in the absence of +thy charmer thou must put up with the heart-rending bramble of +separation.” The Nightingale cast his eye upon the scene +around him, but saw nothing fit to eat. Destitute of food, his +strength and fortitude failed him, and in his abject helplessness +he was unable to earn himself a little livelihood. He called to his +mind and said: “Surely the Ant had in former days his +dwelling underneath this tree, and was busy in hoarding a store of +provision: now I will lay my wants before her, and, in the name of +good neighbourship, and with an appeal to her generosity, beg some +small relief. Peradventure she may pity my distress and bestow her +charity upon me.” Like a poor suppliant, the half-famished +Nightingale presented himself at the Ant’s door, and said: +“Generosity is the harbinger of prosperity, and the capital +stock of good luck. I was wasting my precious life in idleness +whilst thou wast toiling hard and laying up a hoard. How +considerate and good it were of thee wouldst thou spare me a +portion of it.” The Ant replied:</p> +<p>“Thou wast day and night occupied in idle talk, and I in +attending to the needful: one moment thou wast taken up with the +fresh blandishment of the Rose, <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page44" name="page44"></a>[pg 44]</span>and the next busy in +admiring the blossoming spring. Wast thou not aware that every +summer has its fall and every road an end?”<a href="#fn_15" +id="fnm_15" name="fnm_15"><sup>15</sup></a></p> +<p>These are a few more of Saádí’s +aphorisms:</p> +<p>Riches are for the comfort of life, and not life for the +accumulation of riches.<a href="#fn_16" id="fnm_16" name= +"fnm_16"><sup>16</sup></a></p> +<p>The eye of the avaricious man cannot be satisfied with wealth, +any more than a well can be filled with dew.</p> +<p>A wicked rich man is a clod of earth gilded.</p> +<p>The liberal man who eats and bestows is better than the +religious man who fasts and hoards.</p> +<p>Publish not men’s secret faults, for by disgracing them +you make yourself of no repute.</p> +<p>He who gives advice to a self-conceited man stands himself in +need of counsel from another.</p> +<p>The vicious cannot endure the sight of the virtuous, in the same +manner as the curs of the market howl at a hunting-dog, but dare +not approach him.</p> +<p>When a mean wretch cannot vie with any man in virtue, out of his +wickedness he begins to slander him. The abject, envious wretch +will slander the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page45" name= +"page45"></a>[pg 45]</span>virtuous man when absent, but when +brought face to face his loquacious tongue becomes dumb.</p> +<p>O thou, who hast satisfied thy hunger, to thee a barley loaf is +beneath notice;—that seems loveliness to me which in thy +sight appears deformity.</p> +<p>The ringlets of fair maids are chains for the feet of reason, +and snares for the bird of wisdom.</p> +<p>When you have anything to communicate that will distress the +heart of the person whom it concerns, be silent, in order that he +may hear it from some one else. O nightingale, bring thou the glad +tidings of the spring, and leave bad news to the owl!</p> +<p>It often happens that the imprudent is honoured and the wise +despised. The alchemist died of poverty and distress, while the +blockhead found a treasure under a ruin.</p> +<p>Covetousness sews up the eyes of cunning, and brings both bird +and fish into the net.</p> +<p>Although, in the estimation of the wise, silence is commendable, +yet at a proper season speech is preferable.<a href="#fn_17" id= +"fnm_17" name="fnm_17"><sup>17</sup></a></p> +<p>Two things indicate an obscure understanding: to be silent when +we should converse, and to speak when we should be silent.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page46" name="page46"></a>[pg +46]</span>Put not yourself so much in the power of your friend +that, if he should become your enemy, he may be able to injure +you.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Our English poet Young has this observation in +his <i>Night Thoughts</i>:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Thought, in the mine, may come forth gold or dross;</p> +<p>When coined in word, we know its real worth.</p> +</div> +<p>He had been thus anticipated by Saádí: “To +what shall be likened the tongue in a man’s mouth? It is the +key of the treasury of wisdom. When the door is shut, who can +discover whether he deals in jewels or small-wares?”</p> +<p>The poet Thomson, in his <i>Seasons</i>, has these lines, which +have long been hackneyed:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p class="i16">Loveliness</p> +<p>Needs not the aid of foreign ornament,</p> +<p>But is when unadorned adorned the most.</p> +</div> +<p>Saádí had anticipated him also: “The face of +the beloved,” he says, “requireth not the art of the +tire-woman. The finger of a beautiful woman and the tip of her ear +are handsome without an ear-jewel or a turquoise ring.” But +Saádí, in his turn, was forestalled by the Arabian +poet-hero Antar, in his famous <i>Mu’allaka</i>, or +prize-poem, which is at least thirteen hundred years old, where he +says: “Many a consort of a fair one, whose beauty required no +ornaments, have I laid prostrate on the field.”</p> +<p>Yet one Persian poet, at least, namely, Nakhshabí, held a +different opinion: “Beauty,” he says, “adorned +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page47" name="page47"></a>[pg +47]</span>with ornaments, portends disastrous events to our hearts. +An amiable form, ornamented with diamonds and gold, is like a +melodious voice accompanied by the rabáb.” Again, he +says: “Ornaments are the universal ravishers of hearts, and +an upper garment for the shoulder is like a cluster of gems. If +dress, however,” he concedes, “may have been at any +time the assistant of beauty, beauty is always the animator of +dress.” It is remarkable that homely-featured women dress +more gaudily than their handsome sisters generally, thus +unconsciously bringing their lack of beauty (not to put too fine a +point on it) into greater prominence.</p> +<p>In common with other moralists, Saádí reiterates +the maxim that learning and virtue, precept and practice, should +ever go hand in hand. “Two persons,” says he, +“took trouble in vain: he who acquired wealth without using +it, and he who taught wisdom without practising it.” Again: +“He who has acquired knowledge and does not practise it, is +like unto him that ploughed but did not sow.” And again: +“How much soever you may study science, when you do not act +wisely, you are ignorant. The beast that they load with books is +not profoundly wise and learned: what knoweth his empty skull +whether he carrieth fire-wood or books?” And yet again: +“A learned man without temperance is like a blind man +carrying a lamp: he showeth the way to others, but does not guide +himself.”</p> +<p>Ingratitude is denounced by all moralists as the lowest of +vices. Thus Saádí says: “Man is beyond +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page48" name="page48"></a>[pg +48]</span>dispute the most excellent of created beings, and the +vilest animal is the dog; but the sages agree that a grateful dog +is better than an ungrateful man. A dog never forgets a morsel, +though you pelt him a hundred times with stones. But if you cherish +a mean wretch for an age, he will fight with you for a mere +trifle.” In language still more forcible does a Hindú +poet denounce this basest of vices: “To cut off the teats of +a cow;<a href="#fn_18" id="fnm_18" name="fnm_18"><sup>18</sup></a> +to occasion a pregnant woman to miscarry; to injure a +Bráhman—are sins of the most aggravated nature; but +more atrocious than these is ingratitude.”</p> +<p>The sentiment so tersely expressed in the Chinese proverb, +“He who never reveals a secret keeps it best,” is thus +finely amplified by Saádí: “The matter which +you wish to preserve as a secret impart not to every one, although +he may be worthy of confidence; for no one will be so true to your +secret as yourself. It is safer to be silent than to reveal a +secret to any one, and tell him not to mention it. O wise man! stop +the water at the spring-head, for when it is in full stream you +cannot arrest it.”<a href="#fn_19" id="fnm_19" name= +"fnm_19"><sup>19</sup></a></p> +<p>The imperative duty of active benevolence is thus <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page49" name="page49"></a>[pg +49]</span>inculcated: “Bestow thy gold and thy wealth while +they are thine; for when thou art gone they will be no longer in +thy power. Distribute thy treasure readily to-day, for to-morrow +the key may be no longer in thy hand. Exert thyself to cast a +covering over the poor, that God’s own veil may be a covering +to thee.”</p> +<p>In the following passage the man of learning and virtue is +contrasted with the stupid and ignorant blockhead:</p> +<p>“If a wise man, falling into company with mean people, +does not get credit for his discourse, be not surprised, for the +sound of the harp cannot overpower the noise of the drum, and the +fragrance of ambergris is overcome by fetid garlic. The ignorant +fellow was proud of his loud voice, because he had impudently +confounded the man of understanding. If a jewel falls in the mud it +is still the same precious stone,<a href="#fn_20" id="fnm_20" name= +"fnm_20"><sup>20</sup></a> and if dust flies up to the sky it +retains its original baseness. A capacity without education is +deplorable, and education without capacity is thrown away. Sugar +obtains not its value from the cane, but from its innate quality. +Musk has fragrance of itself, and not from being called a perfume +by the druggist. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page50" name= +"page50"></a>[pg 50]</span>The wise man is like the +druggist’s chest, silent, but full of virtues; while the +blockhead resembles the warrior’s drum, noisy, but an empty +prattler. A wise man in the company of those who are ignorant has +been compared by the sages to a beautiful girl in the company of +blind men, and to the Kurán in the house of an +infidel.”—The old proverb that “an evil bird has +an evil egg” finds expression by Saádí thus: +“No one whose origin is bad ever catches the reflection of +the good.” Again, he says: “How can we make a good +sword out of bad iron? A worthless person cannot by education +become a person of any worth.” And yet again: “Evil +habits which have taken root in one’s nature will only be got +rid of at the hour of death.”</p> +<p>Firdausí, the Homer of Persia (eleventh century), has the +following remarks in his scathing satire on the sultan +Mahmúd, of Ghazní (Atkinson’s rendering):</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Alas! from vice can goodness ever spring?</p> +<p>Is mercy hoped for in a tyrant king?</p> +<p>Can water wash the Ethiopian white?</p> +<p>Can we remove the darkness from the night?</p> +<p>The tree to which a bitter fruit is given</p> +<p>Would still be bitter in the bowers of heaven;</p> +<p>And a bad heart keeps on its vicious course,</p> +<p>Or, if it changes, changes for the worse;</p> +<p>Whilst streams of milk where Eden’s flow’rets +blow</p> +<p>Acquire more honied sweetness as they flow.</p> +</div> +<p>The striking words of the Great Teacher, “How hardly shall +they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God!” find an +interesting analogue in this <span class="pagenum"><a id="page51" +name="page51"></a>[pg 51]</span>passage by Saádí: +“There is a saying of the Prophet, ‘To the poor death +is a state of rest.’ The ass that carries the lightest burden +travels easiest. In like manner, the good man who bears the burden +of poverty will enter the gate of death lightly loaded, while he +who lives in affluence, with ease and comfort, will, doubtless, on +that very account find death very terrible. And in any view, the +captive who is released from confinement is happier than the noble +who is taken prisoner.”</p> +<p>A singular anecdote is told of another celebrated Persian poet, +which may serve as a kind of commentary on this last-cited passage: +Faridú ’d-Dín ’Attár, who died in +the year 1229, when over a hundred years old, was considered the +most perfect Súfí<a href="#fn_21" id="fnm_21" name= +"fnm_21"><sup>21</sup></a> philosopher of the time in which he +lived. His father was an eminent druggist in Nishapúr, and +for a time Faridú ’d-Dín followed the same +profession, and his shop was the delight of all who passed by it, +from the neatness of its arrangements and the fragrant odours of +drugs and essences. ’Attár, which means druggist, or +perfumer, Faridú ’d-Dín adopted for his +poetical title. One day, while sitting at his door with a friend, +an aged dervish drew near, and, after looking anxiously and closely +into the well-furnished shop, he <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page52" name="page52"></a>[pg 52]</span>sighed heavily and shed +tears, as he reflected on the transitory nature of all earthly +things. ’Attár, mistaking the sentiment uppermost in +the mind of the venerable devotee, ordered him to be gone, to which +he meekly rejoined: “Yes, I have nothing to prevent me from +leaving thy door, or, indeed, from quitting this world at once, as +my sole possession is this threadbare garment. But O +’Attár, I grieve for thee: for how canst thou ever +bring thyself to think of death—to leave all these goods +behind thee?” ’Attár replied that he hoped and +believed that he should die as contentedly as any dervish; upon +which the aged devotee, saying, “We shall see,” placed +his wooden bowl upon the ground, laid his head upon it, and, +calling on the name of God, immediately resigned his soul. Deeply +impressed with this incident, ’Attár at once gave up +his shop, and devoted himself to the study of Súfí +philosophy.<a href="#fn_22" id="fnm_22" name= +"fnm_22"><sup>22</sup></a></p> +<p>The death of Cardinal Mazarin furnishes another remarkable +illustration of Saádí’s sentiment. A day or two +before he died, the cardinal caused his servant to carry him into +his magnificent art gallery, where, gazing upon his collection of +pictures and sculpture, he cried in anguish, “And must I +leave all these?” Dr. Johnson may have had Mazarin’s +words in mind when he said to Garrick, while being shown over the +famous actor’s splendid mansion: “Ah, Davie, Davie, +these are the things that make a death-bed terrible!”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page53" name="page53"></a>[pg +53]</span>Few passages of Shakspeare are more admired than these +lines:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>And this our life, exempt from public haunts,</p> +<p>Finds <em>tongues in trees</em>, books in the running +brooks,</p> +<p>Sermons in stones, and good in everything.<a href="#fn_23" id= +"fnm_23" name="fnm_23"><sup>23</sup></a></p> +</div> +<p>Saádí had thus expressed the same sentiment before +him: “The foliage of a newly-clothed tree, to the eye of a +discerning man, displays a whole volume of the wondrous works of +the Creator.” Another Persian poet, Jámí, in +his beautiful mystical poem of <i>Yúsuf wa +Zulaykhá</i>, says: “Every leaf is a tongue uttering +praises, like one who keepeth crying, ‘In the name of +God.’”<a href="#fn_24" id="fnm_24" name= +"fnm_24"><sup>24</sup></a> And the Afghan poet Abdu ’r-Rahman +says: “Every tree, every shrub, stands ready to bend before +him; every herb and blade of grass is a tongue to mutter his +praises.” And Horace Smith, that most pleasing but +unpretentious writer, both of verse and <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page54" name="page54"></a>[pg 54]</span>prose, has +thus finely amplified the idea of “tongues in +trees”:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Your voiceless lips, O Flowers, are living preachers,</p> +<p>Each cup a pulpit, every leaf a book,</p> +<p>Supplying to my fancy numerous teachers,</p> +<p class="i12">From loneliest nook.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>’Neath cloistered boughs, each floral bell that +swingeth,</p> +<p>And tolls its perfume on the passing air,</p> +<p>Makes Sabbath in the fields, and ever ringeth</p> +<p class="i12">A call to prayer;—</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Not to the domes where crumbling arch and column</p> +<p>Attest the feebleness of mortal hand,</p> +<p>But to that fane, most catholic and solemn,</p> +<p class="i12">Which God hath planned:</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>To that cathedral, boundless as our wonder,</p> +<p>Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply;</p> +<p>Its choir, the winds and waves, its organ, thunder,</p> +<p class="i12">Its dome, the sky.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>There, amid solitude and shade, I wander</p> +<p>Through the green aisles, and, stretched upon the sod,</p> +<p>Awed by the silence, reverently ponder</p> +<p class="i12">The ways of God.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p class="spacedTop">When Saádí composed his +<i>Gulistán</i>, in 1278, he was between eighty and ninety +years of age, with his great mind still vigorous as ever; and he +lived many years after, beloved and revered by the poor, whose +necessities he relieved, and honoured and esteemed by the noble and +the learned, who frequently visited the venerable solitary, to +gather and treasure up the pearls of wisdom which dropped from his +eloquent <span class="pagenum"><a id="page55" name="page55"></a>[pg +55]</span>tongue. Like other poets of lofty genius, he possessed a +firm assurance of the immortality of his fame. “A +rose,” says he, “may continue to bloom for five or six +days, but this Rose-Garden will flourish for ever”; and +again: “These verses and recitals of mine will endure after +every particle of my dust has been dispersed.” Six centuries +have passed away since the gifted sage penned his +<i>Gulistán</i>, and his fame has not only continued in his +own land and throughout the East generally, but has spread into all +European countries, and across the Atlantic, where long after the +days of Saádí “still stood the forests +primeval.”</p> +<hr /> +<h2 class="spacedTop"><a id="Oriental" name="Oriental"></a>ORIENTAL +WIT AND HUMOUR.</h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page59" name="page59"></a>[pg +59]</span></p> +<div class="epigram"> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Sport that wrinkled Care derides,</p> +<p>And Laughter shaking both his sides.—<i>L’ +Allegro</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Oriental_1" name= +"Oriental_1"></a>I</h3> +<p class="small cen">MAN A LAUGHING ANIMAL—ANTIQUITY OF +POPULAR JESTS—“NIGHT AND DAY”—THE +PLAIN-FEATURED BRIDE—THE HOUSE OF CONDOLENCE—THE BLIND +MAN’S WIFE—TWO WITTY PERSIAN LADIES—WOMAN’S +COUNSEL—THE TURKISH JESTER: IN THE PULPIT; THE CAULDRON; THE +BEGGAR; THE DRUNKEN GOVERNOR; THE ROBBER; THE HOT +BROTH—MUSLIM PREACHERS AND MUSLIM MISERS.</p> +<p>Certain philosophers have described man as a cooking animal, +others as a tool-making animal, others, again, as a laughing +animal. No creature save man, say the advocates of the last +definition, seems to have any “sense of humour.” +However this may be, there can be little doubt that man in all ages +of which we have any knowledge has possessed that faculty which +perceives ridiculous incongruities in the relative positions of +certain objects, and in the actions and sayings of individuals, +which we term the “sense of the ludicrous.” It is not +to be supposed that a dog or a cat—albeit intelligent +creatures, in their own ways—would see anything funny or +laughable in a <span class="pagenum"><a id="page60" name= +"page60"></a>[pg 60]</span>man whose sole attire consisted in a +general’s hat and sash and a pair of spurs! Yet <em>that</em> +should be enough to “make even a cat laugh”! Certainly +laughter is peculiar to our species; and gravity is as certainly +not always a token of profound wisdom; for</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>The gravest beast’s an ass;</p> +<p class="i2">The gravest bird’s an owl;</p> +<p>The gravest fish’s an oyster;</p> +<p class="i2">And the gravest man’s a <em>fool</em>.</p> +</div> +<p>Many of the great sages of antiquity were also great humorists, +and laughed long and heartily at a good jest. And, indeed, as the +Sage of Chelsea affirms, “no man who has once heartily and +wholly laughed can be altogether, irreclaimably bad. How much lies +in laughter!—the cipher key wherewith we decipher the whole +man!… The man who cannot laugh is not only fit for treasons, +stratagems, and spoils, but his whole life is already a treason and +a stratagem.” Let us, then, laugh at what is laughable while +we are yet clothed in “this muddy vesture of decay,” +for, as delightful Elia asks, “Can a ghost laugh? Can he +shake his gaunt sides if we be merry with him?”</p> +<p>It is a remarkable fact that a considerable proportion of the +familiar jests of almost any country, which are by its natives +fondly believed to be “racy of the soil,” are in +reality common to other peoples widely differing in language and +customs. Not a few of these jests had their origin ages upon ages +since—in Greece, in Persia, in India. Yet they must have set +out upon their travels westward at a comparatively <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page61" name="page61"></a>[pg 61]</span>early +period, for they have been long domiciled in almost every country +of Europe. Nevertheless, as we ourselves possess a goodly number of +droll witticisms, repartees, and jests, which are most undoubtedly +and beyond cavil our own—such as many of those which are +ascribed to Sam Foote, Harry Erskine, Douglas Jerrold, and Sydney +Smith; though they have been credited with some that are as old as +the jests of Hierokles—so there exist in what may be termed +the lower strata of Oriental fiction, humorous and witty stories, +characteristic of the different peoples amongst whom they +originated, which, for the most part, have not yet been +appropriated by the European compilers of books of facetiæ, +and a selection of such jests—choice specimens of Oriental +Wit and Humour—gleaned from a great variety of sources, will, +I trust, amuse readers in general, and lovers of funny anecdotes in +particular.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">To begin, then—<em>place aux dames</em>! +In most Asiatic countries the ladies are at a sad discount in the +estimation of their lords and masters, however much the latter may +expatiate on their personal charms, and in Eastern jests this is +abundantly shown. For instance, a Persian poet, through the +importunity of his friends, had married an old and very ugly woman, +who turned out also of a very bad temper, and they had constant +quarrels. Once, in a dispute, the poet made some comparisons +between his aged wife and himself and between Night and Day. +“Cease your nonsense,” said <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page62" name="page62"></a>[pg 62]</span>she; +“night and day were created long before us.” +“Hold a little,” said the husband. “I know they +were created long before me, but whether before <em>you</em>, +admits of great doubt!” Again, a Persian married, and, as is +customary with Muslims, on the marriage night saw his bride’s +face for the first time, when she proved to be very +ugly—perhaps “plain-looking” were the more +respectful expression. A few days after the nuptials, she said to +him: “My life! as you have many relatives, I wish you would +inform me before which of them I may unveil.” (Women of rank +in Muslim countries appear unveiled only before very near +relations.) “My soul!” responded the husband, “if +thou wilt but conceal thy face from <em>me</em>, I care not to whom +thou showest it.” And there is a grim sort of humour in the +story of the poor Arab whose wife was going on a visit of +condolence, when he said to her: “My dear, if you go, who is +to take care of the children, and what have you left for them to +eat?” She replied: “As I have neither flour, nor milk, +nor butter, nor oil, nor anything else, what can I leave?” +“You had better stay at home, then,” said the poor man; +“for assuredly <em>this</em> is the true house of +condolence.” And also in the following: A citizen of Tawris, +in comfortable circumstances, had a daughter so very ugly that +nothing could induce any one to marry her. At length he resolved to +bestow her on a blind man, hoping that, not seeing her personal +defects, he would be kind to her. His plan succeeded, and the blind +man lived very happily with his wife. <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page63" name="page63"></a>[pg 63]</span>By-and-by, there arrived +in the city a doctor who was celebrated for restoring sight to many +people, and the girl’s father was urged by his friends to +engage this skilled man to operate upon his son-in-law, but he +replied: “I will take care to do nothing of the kind; for if +this doctor should restore my son-in-law’s eyesight, +<em>he</em> would very soon restore my daughter to me!”</p> +<p>But occasionally ladies are represented as giving witty retorts, +as in the story of the Persian lady who, walking in the street, +observed a man following her, and turning round enquired of him: +“Why do you follow me, sir?” He answered: +“Because I am in love with you.” “Why are you in +love with me?” said the lady. “My sister is much +handsomer than I; she is coming after me—go and make love to +her.” The fellow went back and saw a woman with an +exceedingly ugly face, upon which he at once went after the lady, +and said to her: “Why did you tell me what was not +true?” “Neither did you speak the truth,” +answered she; “for if you were really in love with me, you +would not have turned to see another woman.” And the Persian +poet Jámí, in his <i>Baháristán</i>, +relates that a man with a very long nose asked a woman in marriage, +saying: “I am no way given to sloth, or long sleeping, and I +am very patient in bearing vexations.” To which she replied: +“Yes, truly: hadst thou not been patient in bearing vexations +thou hadst not carried that nose of thine these forty +years.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page64" name="page64"></a>[pg +64]</span>The low estimation in which women are so unjustly held +among Muhammedans is perhaps to be ascribed partly to the teachings +of the Kurán in one or two passages, and to the traditional +sayings of the Apostle Muhammad, who has been credited (or rather +<em>discredited</em>) with many things which he probably never +said. But this is not peculiar to the followers of the Prophet of +Mecca: a very considerable proportion of the Indian fictions +represent women in an unfavourable light—fictions, too, which +were composed long before the Hindús came in contact with +the Muhammedans. Even in Europe, during mediæval times, +<em>maugre</em> the “lady fair” of chivalric romance, +it was quite as much the custom to decry women, and to relate +stories of their profligacy, levity, and perversity, as ever it has +been in the East. But we have changed all that in modern times: it +is only to be hoped that we have not gone to the other +extreme!—According to an Arabian writer, cited by Lane, +“it is desirable, before a man enters upon any important +undertaking, to consult ten intelligent persons among his +particular friends; or if he have not more than five such friends +let him consult each twice; or if he have not more than one friend +he should consult him ten times, at ten different visits [he would +be ‘a friend indeed,’ to submit to so many +consultations on the same subject]; if he have not one to consult +let him return to his wife and consult her, and whatever she +advises him to do let him do the contrary, so shall he proceed +rightly in his affair and <span class="pagenum"><a id="page65" +name="page65"></a>[pg 65]</span>attain his object.”<a href= +"#fn_25" id="fnm_25" name="fnm_25"><sup>25</sup></a> We may suppose +this Turkish story, from the <i>History of the Forty +Vezírs</i>, to be illustrative of the wisdom of such +teaching: A man went on the roof of his house to repair it, and +when he was about to come down he called to his wife, “How +should I come down?” The woman answered, “The roof is +free; what would happen? You are a young man—jump +down.” The man jumped down, and his ankle was dislocated, and +for a whole year he was bedridden, and his ankle came not back to +its place. Next year the man again went on the roof of his house +and repaired it. Then he called to his wife, “Ho! wife, how +shall I come down?” The woman said, “Jump not; thine +ankle has not yet come to its place—come down gently.” +The man replied, “The other time, for that I followed thy +words, and not those of the Apostle [<i>i.e.</i>, Muhammed], was my +ankle dislocated, and it is not yet come to its place; now shall I +follow the words of the Apostle, and do the contrary of what thou +sayest [Kurán, iii, 29.]” And he jumped down, and +straightway his ankle came to its place.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">In the Turkish collection of jests ascribed to +Khoja Nasrú ’d-Dín Efendi<a href="#fn_26" id= +"fnm_26" name="fnm_26"><sup>26</sup></a> is the following, which +has been <span class="pagenum"><a id="page66" name="page66"></a>[pg +66]</span>reproduced amongst ourselves within comparatively recent +years, and credited to an Irish priest:</p> +<p>One day the Khoja went into the pulpit of a mosque to preach to +the people. “O men!” said he, “do you know what I +should say unto you?” They answered: “We know not, +Efendi.” “When you do know,” said the Khoja, +“I shall take the trouble of addressing you.” The next +day he again ascended into the pulpit, and said, as before: +“O men! do you know what I should say unto you?” +“We do know,” exclaimed they all with one voice. +“Then,” said he, “what is the use of my +addressing you, since you already know?” The third day he +once more went into the pulpit, and asked the same question. The +people, having consulted together as to the answer they should +make, said: “O Khoja, some of us know, and some of us do not +know.” “If that be the case, let those who know tell +those who do not know,” said the Khoja, coming down. A poor +Arab preacher was once, however, not quite so successful. Having +“given out,” as we say, for his text, these words, from +the Kurán, “I have <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page67" name="page67"></a>[pg 67]</span>called Noah,” and +being unable to collect his thoughts, he repeated, over and over +again, “I have called Noah,” and finally came to a dead +stop; when one of those present shouted, “If Noah will not +come, call some one else.” Akin to this is our English jest +of the deacon of a dissenting chapel in Yorkshire, who undertook, +in the vanity of his heart, to preach on the Sunday, in place of +the pastor, who was ill, or from home. He conducted the devotional +exercises fairly well, but when he came to deliver his sermon, on +the text, “I am the Light of the world,” he had forgot +what he intended to say, and continued to repeat these words, until +an old man called out, “If thou be the light o’ the +world, I think thou needs snuffin’ badly.”</p> +<p>To return to the Turkish jest-book. One day the Khoja borrowed a +cauldron from a brazier, and returned it with a little saucepan +inside. The owner, seeing the saucepan, asked: “What is +this?” Quoth the Khoja: “Why, the cauldron has had a +young one”; whereupon the brazier, well pleased, took +possession of the saucepan. Some time after this the Khoja again +borrowed the cauldron and took it home. At the end of a week the +brazier called at the Khoja’s house and asked for his +cauldron. “O set your mind at rest,” said the Khoja; +“the cauldron is dead.” “O Khoja,” quoth +the brazier, “can a cauldron die?” Responded the Khoja: +“Since you believed it could have a young one, why should you +not also believe that it could die?”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page68" name="page68"></a>[pg +68]</span>The Khoja had a pleasant way of treating beggars. One day +a man knocked at his door. “What do you want?” cried +the Khoja from above. “Come down,” said the man. The +Khoja accordingly came down, and again said: “What do you +want?” “I want charity,” said the man. +“Come up stairs,” said the Khoja. When the beggar had +come up, the Khoja said: “God help you”—the +customary reply to a beggar when one will not or cannot give him +anything. “O master,” cried the man, “why did you +not say so below?” Quoth the Khoja: “When I was above +stairs, why did you bring me down?”</p> +<p>Drunkenness is punished (or punishable) by the infliction of +eighty strokes of the bastinado in Muslim countries, but it is only +flagrant cases that are thus treated, and there is said to be not a +little private drinking of spirits as well as of wine among the +higher classes, especially Turks and Persians. It happened that the +governor of Súricastle lay in a state of profound +intoxication in a garden one day, and was thus discovered by the +Khoja, who was taking a walk in the same garden with his friend +Ahmed. The Khoja instantly stripped him of his <em>ferage</em>, or +upper garment, and, putting it on his own back, walked away. When +the governor awoke and saw that his ferage had been stolen, he told +his officers to bring before him whomsoever they found wearing it. +The officers, seeing the ferage on the Khoja, seized and brought +him before the governor, who said to him: “Ho! Khoja, where +did <span class="pagenum"><a id="page69" name="page69"></a>[pg +69]</span>you obtain that ferage?” The Khoja responded +“As I was taking a walk with my friend Ahmed we saw a fellow +lying drunk, whereupon I took off his ferage and went away with it. +If it be yours, pray take it.” “O no,” said the +governor, “it does not belong to me.”</p> +<p>Even being robbed could not disturb the Khoja’s good +humour. When he was lying in bed one night a loud noise was heard +in the street before his house. Said he to his wife: “Get up +and light a candle, and I will go and see what is the +matter.” “You had much better stay where you +are,” advised his wife. But the Khoja, without heeding her +words, put the counterpane on his shoulders and went out. A fellow, +on perceiving him, immediately snatched the counterpane from off +the Khoja’s shoulders and ran away. Shivering with cold, the +Khoja returned into the house, and when his wife asked him the +cause of the noise, he said: “It was on account of our +counterpane; when they got that, the noise ceased at +once.”</p> +<p>But in the following story we have a very old acquaintance in a +new dress: One day the Khoja’s wife, in order to plague him, +served up some exceedingly hot broth, and, forgetting what she had +done, put a spoonful of it in her mouth, which so scalded her that +the tears came into her eyes. “O wife,” said the Khoja, +“what is the matter with you—is the broth hot?” +“Dear Efendi,” said she, “my mother, who is now +dead, loved broth very much; <span class="pagenum"><a id="page70" +name="page70"></a>[pg 70]</span>I thought of that, and wept on her +account.” The Khoja, thinking that what she said was truth, +took a spoonful of the broth, and, it burning his mouth, he began +to bellow. “What is the matter with you?” said his +wife. “Why do you cry?” Quoth the Khoja: “You cry +because your mother is gone, but I cry because her daughter is +here.”<a href="#fn_27" id="fnm_27" name= +"fnm_27"><sup>27</sup></a></p> +<p class="spacedTop">Many of the Muslim jests, like some our of +own, are at the expense of poor preachers. Thus: there was in +Baghdád a preacher whom no one attended after hearing him +but once. One Friday when he came down from the pulpit he +discovered that the only one who remained in the mosque was the +muezzin—all his hearers had left him to finish his discourse +as, and when, he pleased—and, still worse, his slippers had +also disappeared. Accusing the muezzin of having stolen them, +“I am rightly served by your <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page71" name="page71"></a>[pg 71]</span>suspicion,” retorted +he, “for being the only one that remained to hear +you.”—In Gladwin’s <i>Persian Moonshee</i> we +read that whenever a certain learned man preached in the mosque, +one of the congregation wept constantly, and the preacher, +observing this, concluded that his words made a great impression on +the man’s heart. One day some of the people said to the man: +“That learned man makes no impression on our +minds;—what kind of a heart have you, to be thus always in +tears?” He answered: “I do not weep at his discourse, O +Muslims. But I had a goat of which I was very fond, and when he +grew old he died. Now, whenever the learned man speaks and wags his +beard I am reminded of my goat, for he had just such a voice and +beard.”<a href="#fn_28" id="fnm_28" name= +"fnm_28"><sup>28</sup></a> But they are not always represented as +mere dullards; for example: A miserly old fellow once sent a Muslim +preacher a gold ring without a stone, requesting him to put up a +prayer for him from the pulpit. The holy man prayed that he should +have in Paradise a golden palace without a roof. When he descended +from the pulpit, the man <span class="pagenum"><a id="page72" name= +"page72"></a>[pg 72]</span>went to him, and, taking him by the +hand, said: “O preacher, what manner of prayer is that thou +hast made for me?” “If thy ring had had a stone,” +replied the preacher, “thy palace should also have had a +roof.”</p> +<p><em>Apropos</em> of misers, our English facetiæ books +furnish many examples of their ingenuity in excusing themselves +from granting favours asked of them by their acquaintances; and, +human nature being much the same everywhere, the misers in the East +are represented as being equally adroit, as well as witty, in +parrying such objectionable requests. A Persian who had a very +miserly friend went to him one day, and said: “I am going on +a journey; give me your ring, which I will constantly wear, and +whenever I look on it, I shall remember you.” The other +answered: “If you wish to remember me, whenever you see your +finger <em>without</em> my ring upon it, always think of me, that I +did not give you my ring.” And quite as good is the story of +the dervish who said to the miser that he wanted something of him; +to which he replied: “If you will consent to a request of +mine, I will consent to whatever else you may require”; and +when the dervish desired to know what it was, he said: “Never +ask me for anything and whatever else you say I will +perform.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page73" name="page73"></a>[pg +73]</span></p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Oriental_2" name= +"Oriental_2"></a>II</h3> +<p class="small cen">THE TWO DEAF MEN AND THE TRAVELLER—THE +DEAF PERSIAN AND THE HORSEMAN—LAZY SERVANTS—CHINESE +HUMOUR: THE RICH MAN AND THE SMITHS; HOW TO KEEP PLANTS ALIVE; +CRITICISING A PORTRAIT—THE PERSIAN COURTIER AND HIS OLD +FRIEND—THE SCRIBE—THE SCHOOLMASTER AND THE +WIT—THE PERSIAN AND HIS CAT—A LIST OF +BLOCKHEADS—THE ARAB AND HIS CAMEL—A WITTY +BAGHDÁDÍ—THE UNLUCKY SLIPPERS.</p> +<p>It is well known that deaf men generally dislike having their +infirmity alluded to, and even endeavour to conceal it as much as +possible. Charles Lamb, or some other noted wit, seeing a deaf +acquaintance on the other side of the street one day while walking +with a friend, stopped and motioned to him; then opened his mouth +as if speaking in a loud tone, but saying not a word. “What +are you bawling for?” demanded the deaf one. +“D’ye think I can’t hear?”—Two +Eastern stories I have met with are most diverting examples of this +peculiarity of deaf folks. One is related by my friend Pandit +Natésa Sastrí in his <i>Folk-Lore of Southern +India</i>, of which a few copies were recently issued at +Bombay.<a href="#fn_29" id="fnm_29" name="fnm_29"><sup>29</sup></a> +A deaf man was sitting one day where three roads crossed, when a +neatherd happened to pass that way. He had lately lost a good cow +and a calf, and had been seeking them some days. When he saw the +deaf man sitting by the way he took him <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page74" name="page74"></a>[pg 74]</span>for a +soothsayer, and asked him to find out by his knowledge of magic +where the cow would likely be found. The herdsman was also very +deaf, and the other, without hearing what he had said, abused him, +and said he wished to be left undisturbed, at the same time +stretching out his hand and pointing at his face. This pointing the +herd supposed to indicate the direction where the lost cow and calf +should be sought; thus thinking (for he, too, had not heard a word +of what the other man had said to him), the herd went off in +search, resolving to present the soothsayer with the calf if he +found it with the cow. To his joy, and by mere chance, of course, +he found them both, and, returning with them to the deaf man (still +sitting by the wayside), he pointed to the calf and asked him to +accept of it. Now, it so happened that the calf’s tail was +broken and crooked, and the deaf man supposed that the herdsman was +blaming him for having broken it, and by a wave of his hand he +denied the charge. This the poor deaf neatherd mistook for a +refusal of the calf and a demand for the cow, so he said: +“How very greedy you are, to be sure! I promised you the +calf, and not the cow.” “Never!” exclaimed the +deaf man in a rage. “I know nothing of you or your cow and +calf. I never broke the calf’s tail.” While they were +thus quarrelling, without understanding each other, a third man +happened to pass, and seeing his opportunity to profit by their +deafness, he said to the neatherd in a loud <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page75" name="page75"></a>[pg 75]</span>voice, yet +so as not to be heard by the other deaf man: “Friend, you had +better go away with your cow. Those soothsayers are always greedy. +Leave the calf with me, and I shall make him accept it.” The +poor neatherd, highly pleased to have secured his cow, went off, +leaving the calf with the traveller. Then said the traveller to the +deaf man: “It is, indeed, very unlawful, friend, for that +neatherd to charge you with an offence which you did not commit; +but never mind, since you have a friend in me. I shall contrive to +make clear to him your innocence; leave this matter to me.” +So saying, he walked away with the calf, and the deaf man went +home, well pleased that he had escaped from such a serious +accusation.</p> +<p>The other story is of a deaf Persian who was taking home a +quantity of wheat, and, coming to a river which he must cross, he +saw a horseman approach; so he said to himself: “When that +horseman comes up, he will first salute me, ‘Peace be with +thee’; next he will ask, ‘What is the depth of this +river?’ and after that he will ask, how many +<em>máns</em> of wheat I have with me.” (A +<em>mán</em> is a Persian weight, which seems to vary in +different places.) But the deaf man’s surmises were all in +vain; for when the horseman came up to him, he cried: “Ho! my +man, what is the depth of this river?” The deaf one replied: +“Peace be with thee, and the mercy of Allah and his +blessing.” At this the horseman laughed, and said: “May +they <span class="pagenum"><a id="page76" name="page76"></a>[pg +76]</span>cut off thy beard!” The deaf one rejoined: +“To my neck and bosom.” The horseman said: “Dust +be on thy mouth!” The deaf man answered: “Eighty +<em>máns</em> of it.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">The laziness of domestics is a common +complaint in this country at the present day, but surely never was +there a more lazy servant than the fellow whose exploits are thus +recorded: A Persian husbandman one night desired his servant to +shut the door, and the man said it was already shut. In the morning +his master bade him open the door, and he coolly replied that, +foreseeing this request, he had left it open the preceding night. +Another night his master bade him rise and see whether it rained. +But he called for the dog that lay at the door, and finding his +paws dry, answered that the night was fair; then being desired to +see whether the fire was extinguished, he called the cat, and +finding her paws cold, replied in the affirmative.—This story +had gained currency in Europe in the 13th century, and it forms one +of the mediæval <i>Latin Stories</i> edited, for the Percy +Society, by Thos. Wright, where it is entitled, “De Maimundo +Armigero.” There is another Persian story of a lazy fellow +whose master, being sick, said to him: “Go and get me some +medicine.” “But,” rejoined he, “it may +happen that the doctor is not at home.” “You will find +him at home.” “But if I do find him at home he may not +give me the medicine,” quoth the servant. <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page77" name="page77"></a>[pg +77]</span>“Then take this note to him and he will give it to +you.” “Well,” persisted the fellow, “he may +give me the medicine, but suppose it does you no good?” +“Villain!” exclaimed his master, out of all patience, +“will you do as I bid you, instead of sitting there so +coolly, raising difficulties?” “Good sir,” +reasoned this lazy philosopher, “admitting that the medicine +should produce some effect, what will be the ultimate result? We +must all die some time, and what does it matter whether it be +to-day or to-morrow?”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">The Chinese seem not a whit behind other +peoples in appreciating a good jest, as has been shown by the tales +and <em>bon mots</em> rendered into French by Stanislas Julien and +other eminent <em>savans</em>. Here are three specimens of Chinese +humour:</p> +<p>A wealthy man lived between the houses of two blacksmiths, and +was constantly annoyed by the noise of their hammers, so that he +could not get rest, night or day. First he asked them to strike +more gently; then he made them great promises if they would remove +at once. The two blacksmiths consented, and he, overjoyed to get +rid of them, prepared a grand banquet for their entertainment. When +the banquet was over, he asked them where they were going to take +up their new abodes, and they replied—to the intense dismay +of their worthy host, no doubt: “He who lives on the left of +your house is going to that on the right; and he who lives on your +right is going to the house on your left.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page78" name="page78"></a>[pg +78]</span>There is a keen satirical hit at the venality of Chinese +judges in our next story. A husbandman, who wished to rear a +particular kind of vegetable, found that the plants always died. He +consulted an experienced gardener as to the best means of +preventing the death of plants. The old man replied: “The +affair is very simple; with every plant put down a piece of +money.” His friend asked what effect money could possibly +have in a matter of this kind. “It is the case +now-a-days,” said the old man, “that where there is +money <em>life</em> is safe, but where there is none death is the +consequence.”</p> +<p>The tale of Apelles and the shoemaker is familiar to every +schoolboy, but the following story of the Chinese painter and his +critics will be new to most readers: A gentleman having got his +portrait painted, the artist suggested that he should consult the +passers-by as to whether it was a good likeness. Accordingly he +asked the first that was going past: “Is this portrait like +me?” The man said: “The <em>cap</em> is very +like.” When the next was asked, he said: “The +<em>dress</em> is very like.” He was about to ask a third, +when the painter stopped him, saying: “The cap and the dress +do not matter much; ask the person what he thinks of the +face.” The third man hesitated a long time, and then said: +“The <em>beard</em> is very like.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">And now we shall revert once more to Persian +jests, many of which are, however, also current in India, through +the medium of the Persian language. When <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page79" name="page79"></a>[pg 79]</span>a man +becomes suddenly rich it not unfrequently follows that he becomes +as suddenly oblivious of his old friends. Thus, a Persian having +obtained a lucrative appointment at court, a friend of his came +shortly afterwards to congratulate him thereon. The new courtier +asked him: “Who are you? And why do you come here?” The +other coolly replied: “Do you not know me, then? I am your +old friend, and am come to condole with you, having heard that you +had lately lost your sight.”—This recalls the clever +epigram:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>When Jack was poor, the lad was frank and free;</p> +<p class="i2">Of late he’s grown brimful of pride and +pelf;</p> +<p>You wonder that he don’t remember me?</p> +<p class="i2">Why, don’t you see, Jack has forgot +himself!</p> +</div> +<p>The humour of the following is—to me, at +least—simply exquisite: A man went to a professional scribe +and asked him to write a letter for him. The scribe said that he +had a pain in his foot. “A pain in your foot!” echoed +the man. “I don’t want to send you to any place that +you should make such an excuse.” “Very true,” +said the scribe; “but, whenever I write a letter for any one, +I am always sent for to read it, because no one else can make it +out.”—And this is a very fair specimen of ready wit: +During a season of great drought in Persia, a schoolmaster at the +head of his pupils marched out of Shíráz to pray (at +the tomb of some saint in the suburbs) for rain, when they were met +by a waggish fellow, who inquired where they were going. The +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page80" name="page80"></a>[pg +80]</span>preceptor informed him, and added that, no doubt, Allah +would listen to the prayers of innocent children. +“Friend,” quoth the wit, “if that were the case, +I fear there would not be a schoolmaster left alive.”</p> +<p>The “harmless, necessary cat” has often to bear the +blame of depredations in which she had no share—especially +the “lodging-house cat”; and, that such is the fact in +Persia as well as nearer our own doors, let a story related by the +celebrated poet Jámí serve as evidence: A husband +gave a <em>mán</em> of meat to his wife, bidding her cook it +for his dinner. The woman roasted it and ate it all herself, and +when her husband asked for the meat she said the cat had stolen it. +The husband weighed the cat forthwith, and found that she had not +increased in weight by eating so much meat; so, with a hundred +perplexing thoughts, he struck his hand on his knee, and, +upbraiding his wife, said: “O lady, doubtless the cat, like +the meat, weighed one <em>mán</em>; the meat would add +another <em>mán</em> thereto. This point is not clear to +me—that two <em>máns</em> should become one +<em>mán</em>. If this is the cat, where is the meat? And if +this is the meat, why has it the form of the cat?”</p> +<p>Readers of our early English jest-books will perhaps remember +the story of a court-jester being facetiously ordered by the king +to make out a list of all the fools in his dominions, who replied +that it would be a much easier task to write down a list of all the +wise men. I fancy there is some trace of this incident in the +following Persian story, though the details are wholly <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page81" name="page81"></a>[pg 81]</span>different: +Once upon a time a party of merchants exhibited to a king some fine +horses, which pleased him so well that he bought them, and gave the +merchants besides a large sum of money to pay for more horses which +they were to bring from their own country. Some time after this the +king, being merry with wine, said to his chief vazír: +“Make me out a list of all the blockheads in my +kingdom.” The vazír replied that he had already made +out such a list, and had put his Majesty’s name at the top. +“Why so?” demanded the king. “Because,” +said the vazír, “you gave a great sum of money for +horses to be brought by merchants for whom no person is surety, nor +does any one know to what country they belong; and this is surely a +sign of stupidity.” “But what if they should bring the +horses?” The vazír readily replied: “If they +should bring the horses, I should then erase your Majesty’s +name and put the names of the merchants in its +place.”<a href="#fn_30" id="fnm_30" name= +"fnm_30"><sup>30</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page82" name="page82"></a>[pg +82]</span>Everybody knows the story of the silly old woman who went +to market with a cow and a hen for sale, and asked only five +shillings for the cow, but ten pounds for the hen. But no such fool +was the Arab who lost his camel, and, after a long and fruitless +search, anathematised the errant quadruped and her father and her +mother, and swore by the Prophet that, should he find her, he would +sell her for a dirham (sixpence). At length his search was +successful, and he at once regretted his oath; but such an oath +must not be violated, so he tied a cat round the camel’s +neck, and went about proclaiming: “I will sell this camel for +a dirham, and this cat for a hundred dínars (fifty pounds); +but I will not sell one without the other.” A man who passed +by and heard this exclaimed: “What a very desirable bargain +that camel would be if she had not such a <em>collar</em> round her +neck!”<a href="#fn_31" id="fnm_31" name= +"fnm_31"><sup>31</sup></a></p> +<p>For readiness of wit the Arabs would seem to compare very +favourably with any race, European or <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page83" name="page83"></a>[pg 83]</span>Asiatic, and many examples +of their felicitous repartees are furnished by native historians +and grammarians. One of the best is: When a khalíf was +addressing the people in a mosque on his accession to the +khalífate, and told them, among other things in his own +praise, that the plague which had so long raged in Baghdád +had ceased immediately he became khalíf; an old fellow +present shouted: “Of a truth, Allah was too merciful to give +us both <em>thee</em> and the plague at the same time.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">The story of the Unlucky Slippers in +Cardonne’s <i>Mélanges de Littérature +Orientale</i> is a very good specimen of Arabian humour:<a href= +"#fn_32" id="fnm_32" name="fnm_32"><sup>32</sup></a></p> +<p>In former times there lived in the famous city of Baghdád +a miserly old merchant named Abú Kasim. Although very rich, +his clothes were mere rags; his turban was of coarse cloth, and +exceedingly dirty; but his slippers were perfect +curiosities—the soles were studded with great nails, while +the upper leathers consisted of as many different pieces as the +celebrated ship Argos. He had worn them during ten years, and the +art of the ablest cobblers in Baghdád had been exhausted in +preventing a total separation of the parts; in short, by frequent +accessions of nails and patches they had become so heavy that they +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page84" name="page84"></a>[pg +84]</span>passed into a proverb, and anything ponderous was +compared to Abú Kasim’s slippers. Walking one day in +the great bazaar, the purchase of a large quantity of crystal was +offered to this merchant, and, thinking it a bargain, he bought it. +Not long after this, hearing that a bankrupt perfumer had nothing +left to sell but some rose-water, he took advantage of the poor +man’s misfortune, and purchased it for half the value. These +lucky speculations had put him into good humour, but instead of +giving an entertainment, according to the custom of merchants when +they have made a profitable bargain, Abú Kasim deemed it +more expedient to go to the bath, which he had not frequented for +some time. As he was undressing, one of his acquaintances told him +that his slippers made him the laughing-stock of the whole city, +and that he ought to provide himself with a new pair. “I have +been thinking about it,” he answered; “however, they +are not so very much worn but they will serve some time +longer.” While he was washing himself, the kází +of Baghdád came also to bathe. Abú Kasim, coming out +before the judge, took up his clothes but could not find his +slippers—a new pair being placed in their room. Our miser, +persuaded, because he wished it, that the friend who had spoken to +him about his old slippers had made him a present, without +hesitation put on these fine ones, and left the bath highly +delighted. But when the kází had finished bathing, +his servants searched in vain for his slippers; none could be found +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page85" name="page85"></a>[pg +85]</span>but a wretched pair, which were at once identified as +those of Abú Kasim. The officers hastened after the supposed +thief, and, bringing him back with the theft on his feet, the +kází, after exchanging slippers, committed him to +prison. There was no escaping from the claws of justice without +money, and, as Abú Kasim was known to be very rich, he was +fined in a considerable sum.</p> +<p>On returning home, our merchant, in a fit of indignation, flung +his slippers into the Tigris, that ran beneath his window. Some +days after they were dragged out in a fisherman’s net that +came up more heavy than usual. The nails with which the soles were +thickly studded had torn the meshes of the net, and the fisherman, +exasperated against the miserly Abú Kasim and his +slippers—for they were known to everyone—determined to +throw them into his house through the window he had left open. The +slippers, thrown with great force, reached the jars of rose-water, +and smashed them in pieces, to the intense consternation of the +owner. “Cursed slippers!” cried he, tearing his beard, +“you shall cause me no farther mischief!” So saying, he +took a spade and began to dig a hole in his garden to bury them. +One of his neighbours, who had long borne him ill-will, perceiving +him busied in digging the ground, ran at once to inform the +governor that Abú Kasim had discovered some hidden treasure +in his garden. Nothing more was needful to rouse the cupidity of +the commandant. In vain did our miser protest <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page86" name="page86"></a>[pg 86]</span>that he +had found no treasure; and that he only meant to bury his old +slippers. The governor had counted on the money, so the afflicted +man could only preserve his liberty at the expense of a large sum +of money. Again heartily cursing the slippers, in order to +effectually rid himself of them, he threw them into an aqueduct at +some distance from the city, persuaded that he should now hear no +more of them. But his evil genius had not yet sufficiently plagued +him: the slippers got into the mouth of the pipe and stopped the +flow of the water. The keepers of the aqueduct made haste to repair +the damage, and, finding the obstruction was caused by Abú +Kasim’s slippers, complained of this to the governor, and +once more was Abú Kasim heavily fined, but the governor +considerately returned him the slippers. He now resolved to burn +them, but, finding them thoroughly soaked with water, he exposed +them to the sun upon the terrace of his house. A neighbour’s +dog, perceiving the slippers, leaped from the terrace of his +master’s house upon that of Abú Kasim, and, seizing +one of them in his mouth, he let it drop into the street: the fatal +slipper fell directly on the head of a woman who was passing at the +time, and the fright as well as the violence of the blow caused her +to miscarry. Her husband brought his complaint before the +kází, and Abú Kasim was again sentenced to pay +a fine proportioned to the calamity he was supposed to have +occasioned. He then took the slippers in his hand, and, with a +vehemence that made the judge laugh, <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page87" name="page87"></a>[pg 87]</span>said: “Behold, my +lord, the fatal instruments of my misfortune! These cursed slippers +have at length reduced me to poverty. Vouchsafe, therefore, to +publish an order that no one may any more impute to me the +disasters they may yet occasion.” The kází +could not refuse his request, and thus Abú Kasim learned, to +his bitter cost, the danger of wearing his slippers too long.</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Oriental_3" name= +"Oriental_3"></a>III</h3> +<p class="small cen">THE YOUNG MERCHANT OF BAGHDÁD; OR, THE +WILES OF WOMAN.</p> +<p>Too many Eastern stories turn upon the artful devices of women +to screen their own profligacy, but there is one, told by Arab +Sháh, the celebrated historian, who died <span class= +"small">A.D.</span> 1450, in a collection entitled <i>Fakihat +al-Khalífa</i>, or Pastimes of the Khalífs, in which +a lady exhibits great ingenuity, without any very objectionable +motive. It is to the following effect:</p> +<p>A young merchant in Baghdád had placed over the front of +his shop, instead of a sentence from the Kurán, as is +customary, these arrogant words: “<span class="sc">Verily +there is no cunning like unto that of man, seeing it surpasses the +cunning of women</span>.” It happened one day that a very +beautiful young lady, who had been sent by her aunt to purchase +some rich stuffs for dresses, noticed this inscription, and at once +resolved to compel the despiser of her sex to alter it. Entering +the shop, she said to him, after the usual salutations: “You +see <span class="pagenum"><a id="page88" name="page88"></a>[pg +88]</span>my person; can anyone presume to say that I am +humpbacked?” He had hardly recovered from the astonishment +caused by such a question, when the lady drew her veil a little to +one side and continued: “Surely my neck is not as that of a +raven, or as the ebony idols of Ethiopia?” The young +merchant, between surprise and delight, signified his assent. +“Nor is my chin double,” said she, still farther +unveiling her face; “nor my lips thick, like those of a +Tartar?” Here the young merchant smiled. “Nor are they +to be believed who say that my nose is flat and my cheeks are +sunken?” The merchant was about to express his horror at the +bare idea of such blasphemy, when the lady wholly removed her veil +and allowed her beauty to flash upon the bewildered youth, who +instantly became madly in love with her. “Fairest of +creatures!” he cried, “to what accident do I owe the +view of those charms, which are hidden from the eyes of the less +fortunate of my sex?” She replied: “You see in me an +unfortunate damsel, and I shall explain the cause of my present +conduct. My mother, who was sister to a rich amír of Mecca, +died some years ago, leaving my father in possession of an immense +fortune and myself as sole heiress. I am now seventeen, my personal +endowments are such as you behold, and a very small portion of my +mother’s fortune would quite suffice to obtain for me a good +establishment in marriage. Yet such is the unfeeling avarice of my +father, that he absolutely refuses me the least trifle to settle me +in life. The only counsellor <span class="pagenum"><a id="page89" +name="page89"></a>[pg 89]</span>to whom I could apply for help in +this extremity was my kind nurse, and it is by her advice, as well +as from the high opinion I have ever heard expressed of your +merits, that I have been induced to throw myself upon your goodness +in this extraordinary manner.” The emotions of the young +merchant on hearing this story, may be readily imagined. +“Cruel parent!” he exclaimed. “He must be a rock +of the desert, not a man, who can condemn so charming a person to +perpetual solitude, when the slightest possible sacrifice on his +part might prevent it. May I inquire his name?” “He is +the chief kází,” replied the lady, and +disappeared like a vision.</p> +<p>The young merchant lost no time in waiting on the +kází at his court of justice, whom he thus addressed: +“My lord, I am come to ask your daughter in marriage, of whom +I am deeply enamoured.” Quoth the judge: “Sir, my +daughter is unworthy of the honour you design for her. But be +pleased to accompany me to my dwelling, where we can talk over this +matter more at leisure.” They proceeded thither accordingly, +and after partaking of refreshments, the young man repeated his +request, giving a true account of his position and prospects, and +offering to settle fifteen purses on the young lady. The +kází expressed his gratification, but doubted whether +the offer was made in all seriousness, but when assured that such +was the case, he said: “I no longer doubt your earnestness +and sincerity in this affair; it is, however, just possible that +your feelings <span class="pagenum"><a id="page90" name= +"page90"></a>[pg 90]</span>may change after the marriage, and it is +but natural that I should now take proper precautions for my +daughter’s welfare. You will not blame me, therefore, if, in +addition to the fifteen purses you have offered, I require that +five more be paid down previous to the marriage, to be forfeited in +case of a divorce.” “Say ten,” cried the +merchant, and the kází looked more and more +astonished, and even ventured to remonstrate with him on his +precipitancy, but without effect. To be brief, the +kází consented, the ten purses were paid down, the +legal witnesses summoned, and the nuptial contract signed that very +evening; the consummation of the marriage being, much against the +will of our lover, deferred till the following day.</p> +<p>When the wedding guests had dispersed, the young merchant was +admitted to the chamber of his bride, whom he discovered to be +humpbacked and hideous beyond conception! As soon as it was day, he +arose from his sleepless couch and repaired to the public baths, +where, after his ablutions, he gave himself up to melancholy +reflections. Mingled with grief for his disappointment was +mortification at having been the dupe of what now appeared to him a +very shallow artifice, which nothing but his own passionate and +unthinking precipitation could have rendered plausible. Nor was he +without some twinges of conscience for the sarcasms which he had +often uttered against women, and for which his present sufferings +were no more than a just retribution. Then came meditations of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page91" name="page91"></a>[pg +91]</span>revenge upon the beautiful author of all this mischief; +and then his thoughts reverted to the possible means of escape from +his difficulties: the forfeiture of the ten purses, to say nothing +of the implacable resentment of the kází and his +relatives; and he bethought himself how he should become the talk +of his neighbourhood—how Malik bin Omar, the jeweller, would +sneer at him, and Salih, the barber, talk sententiously of his +folly. At length, finding reflection of no avail, he arose and with +slow and pensive steps proceeded to his shop.</p> +<p>His marriage with the kází’s deformed +daughter had already become known to his neighbours, who presently +came to rally him upon his choice of such a bride, and scarcely had +they left when the young lady who had so artfully tricked him +entered with a playful smile on her lips, and a glancing in her +dark eye, which speedily put to flight the young merchant’s +thoughts of revenge. He arose and greeted her courteously. +“May this day be propitious to thee!” said she. +“May Allah protect and bless thee!” Replied he: +“Fairest of earthly creatures, how have I offended thee that +thou shouldst make me the subject of thy sport?” “From +thee,” she said, “I have received no personal +injury.” “What, then, can have been thy motive for +practising so cruel a deception on one who has never harmed +thee?” The young lady simply pointed to the inscription over +the shop front. The merchant was abashed, but felt somewhat +relieved on seeing good humour beaming from her beautiful eyes, and +he immediately took down the inscription, <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page92" name="page92"></a>[pg 92]</span>and +substituted another, which declared that “<span class= +"small">TRULY THERE IS NO CUNNING LIKE UNTO THE CUNNING OF WOMEN, +SEEING IT SURPASSES AND CONFOUNDS EVEN THE CUNNING OF +MEN</span>.” Then the young lady communicated to him a plan +by which he might get rid of his objectionable bride without +incurring her father’s resentment, which he forthwith put +into practice.</p> +<p>Next morning, as the kází and his son-in-law were +taking their coffee together, in the house of the former, they +heard a strange noise in the street, and, descending to ascertain +the cause of the disturbance, found that it proceeded from a crowd +of low fellows—mountebanks, and such like gentry, who had +assembled with all sorts of musical instruments, with which they +kept up a deafening din, at the same time dancing and capering +about, and loudly felicitating themselves on the marriage of their +pretended kinsman with the kází’s daughter. The +young merchant acknowledged their compliments by throwing handfuls +of money among the crowd, which caused a renewal of the dreadful +clamour. When the noise had somewhat subsided, the +kází, hitherto dumb from astonishment, turned to his +son-in-law, and demanded to know the meaning of such a scene before +his mansion. The merchant replied that the leaders of the crowd +were his kinsfolk, although his father had abandoned the fraternity +and adopted commercial pursuits. He could not, however, disown his +kindred, even for <span class="pagenum"><a id="page93" name= +"page93"></a>[pg 93]</span>the sake of the +kází’s daughter. On hearing this the judge was +beside himself with rage and mortification, exclaiming: “Dog, +and son of a dog! what dirt is this you have made me eat?” +The merchant reminded him that he was now his son-in-law; that his +daughter was his lawful wife; declaring that he would not part with +her for untold wealth. But the kází insisted upon a +divorce and returned the merchant his ten purses. In the sequel, +the young merchant, having ascertained the parentage of the clever +damsel, obtained her in marriage, and lived with her for many years +in happiness and prosperity.<a href="#fn_33" id="fnm_33" name= +"fnm_33"><sup>33</sup></a></p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Oriental_4" name= +"Oriental_4"></a>IV</h3> +<p class="small cen">ASHAAB THE COVETOUS—THE STINGY MERCHANT +AND THE HUNGRY BEDOUIN—THE SECT OF SAMRADIANS—THE +STORY-TELLER AND THE KING—ROYAL GIFTS TO POETS—THE +PERSIAN POET AND THE IMPOSTOR—“STEALING +POETRY”—THE RICH MAN AND THE POOR POET.</p> +<p>Avaricious and covetous men are always the just objects of +derision as well as contempt, and surely covetousness was quite +concentrated in the person of <span class="pagenum"><a id="page94" +name="page94"></a>[pg 94]</span>Ashaab, a servant of Othman +(seventh century), and a native of Medina, whose character has been +very amusingly drawn by the scholiast: He never saw a man put his +hand into his pocket without hoping and expecting that he would +give him something. He never saw a funeral go by, but he was +pleased, hoping that the deceased had left him something. He never +saw a bride about to be conducted through the streets to the house +of the bridegroom but he prepared his own house for her reception, +hoping that her friends would bring her to his house by mistake. If +he saw a workman making a box, he took care to tell him that he was +putting in one or two boards too many, hoping that he would give +him what was over, or, at least, something for the suggestion. He +is said to have followed a man who was chewing mastic (a sort of +gum, chewed, like betel, by Orientals as a pastime) for a whole +mile, thinking he was perhaps eating food, intending, if so, to ask +him for some. When the youths of the town jeered and taunted him, +he told them there was a wedding at such a house, in order to get +rid of them (because they would go to get a share of the bonbons +distributed there); but, as soon as they were gone, it struck him +that possibly what he had told them was true, and that they would +not have quitted him had they not been aware of its truth; and he +actually followed them himself to see what he could do, though +exposing himself thereby to fresh taunts from them. When asked +whether he knew <span class="pagenum"><a id="page95" name= +"page95"></a>[pg 95]</span>anyone more covetous than himself, he +said: “Yes; a sheep I once had, that climbed to an upper +stage of my house, and, seeing a rainbow, mistook it for a rope of +hay, and jumping at it, broke her neck”—whence +“Ashaab’s sheep” became proverbial among the +Arabs for covetousness as well as Ashaab himself.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Hospitality has ever been the characteristic +virtue of the Arabs, and a mean, stingy disposition is rarely to be +found among them. A droll story of an Arab of the latter +description has been rendered into verse by the Persian poet +Liwá’í, the substance of which is as follows: +An Arab merchant who had been trading between Mecca and Damascus, +at length turned his face homeward, and had reached within one +stage of his house when he sat down to rest and to refresh himself +with the contents of his wallet. While he was eating, a Bedouin, +weary and hungry, came up, and, hoping to be invited to share his +repast, saluted him, “Peace be with thee!” which the +merchant returned, and asked the nomad who he was and whence he +came. “I have come from thy house,” was the answer. +“Then,” said the merchant, “how fares my son +Ahmed, absence from whom has grieved me sore?” “Thy son +grows apace in health and innocence.” “Good! and how is +his mother?” “She, too, is free from the shadow of +sorrow.” “And how is my beauteous camel, so strong to +bear his load?” “Thy camel is sleek and fat.” +“My house-dog, too, that guards my gate, <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page96" name="page96"></a>[pg 96]</span>pray how +is he?” “He is on the mat before thy door, by day, by +night, on constant guard.” The merchant, having thus his +doubts and fears removed, resumed his meal with freshened appetite, +but gave nought to the poor nomad, and, having finished, closed his +wallet. The Bedouin, seeing his stinginess, writhed with the pangs +of hunger. Presently a gazelle passed rapidly by them, at which he +sighed heavily, and the merchant inquiring the cause of his sorrow, +he said: “The cause is this—had not thy dog died he +would not have allowed that gazelle to escape!” “My +dog!” exclaimed the merchant. “Is my doggie, then, +dead?” “He died from gorging himself with thy +camel’s blood.” “Who hath cast this dust on +me?” cried the merchant. “What of my camel?” +“Thy camel was slaughtered to furnish the funeral feast of +thy wife.” “Is my wife, too, dead?” “Her +grief for Ahmed’s death was such that she dashed her head +against a rock.” “But, Ahmed,” asked the +father—“how came he to die?” “The house +fell in and crushed him.” The merchant heard this tale with +full belief, rent his robe, cast sand upon his head, then started +swiftly homeward to bewail his wife and son, leaving behind his +well-filled wallet, a prey to the starving desert-wanderer.<a href= +"#fn_34" id="fnm_34" name="fnm_34"><sup>34</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page97" name="page97"></a>[pg +97]</span>The Samradian sect of fire-worshippers, who believe only +in the “ideal,” anticipated Bishop Berkeley’s +theory, thus referred to by Lord Byron (<i>Don Juan</i>, xi, +1):</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>When Bishop Berkeley said, “there was no +matter,”</p> +<p class="i2">And proved it—’twas no matter what he +said;</p> +<p>They say, his system ’tis in vain to batter,</p> +<p class="i2">Too subtle for the airiest human head.</p> +</div> +<p>Some amusing anecdotes regarding this singular sect are given in +the Dabistán, a work written in Persian, which furnishes a +very impartial account of the principal religions of the world: A +Samradian said to his servant: “The world and its inhabitants +have no actual existence—they have merely an ideal +being.” The servant, on hearing this, took the first +opportunity to steal his master’s horse, and when he was +about to ride, brought him an ass with the horse’s saddle. +When the Samradian asked: “Where is the horse?” he +replied: “Thou hast been thinking of an idea; there was no +horse in being.” The <span class="pagenum"><a id="page98" +name="page98"></a>[pg 98]</span>master said: “It is +true,” and then mounted the ass. Having proceeded some +distance, followed by his servant on foot, he suddenly dismounted, +and taking the saddle off the back of the ass placed it on the +servant’s back, drawing the girths tightly, and, having +forced the bridle into his mouth, he mounted him, and flogged him +along vigorously. The servant having exclaimed in piteous accents: +“What is the meaning of this, O master?” the Samradian +replied: “There is no such thing as a whip; it is merely +ideal. Thou art thinking only of a delusion.” It is needless +to add that the servant immediately repented and restored the +horse.—Another of this sect having obtained in marriage the +daughter of a wealthy lawyer, she, on finding out her +husband’s peculiar creed, purposed to have some amusement at +his expense. One day the Samradian brought home a bottle of +excellent wine, which during his absence she emptied of its +contents and filled again with water. When the time came for taking +wine, she poured out the water into a gold cup, which Was her own +property. The Samradian remarked: “Thou hast given me water +instead of wine.” “It is only ideal,” she +answered; “there was no wine in existence.” The husband +then said: “Thou hast spoken well; give me the cup that I may +go to a neighbour’s house and bring it back full of +wine.” He thereupon took the gold cup and went out and sold +it, concealing the money, and, instead of the gold vase, he brought +back an earthen vessel filled <span class="pagenum"><a id="page99" +name="page99"></a>[pg 99]</span>with wine. The wife, on seeing +this, said: “What hast thou done with the golden cup?” +He quietly replied: “Thou art surely thinking of an ideal +gold cup,” on which the lady sorely repented her +witticism.<a href="#fn_35" id="fnm_35" name= +"fnm_35"><sup>35</sup></a></p> +<p>I do not know whether there are any English parallels to these +stories, but I have read of a Greek sage who instructed his slave +that all that occurred in this world was the decree of Fate. The +slave shortly after deliberately committed some offence, upon which +his master commenced to soften his ribs with a stout cudgel, and +when the slave pleaded that it was no fault of his, it was the +decree of Fate, his master grimly replied that it was also decreed +that he should have a sound beating.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">In <i>Don Quixote</i>, it will be remembered +by all readers of that delightful work, Sancho begins to tell the +knight a long story about a man who had to ferry across a river a +large flock of sheep, but he could only take one at a time, as the +boat could hold no more. This story Cervantes, in all likelihood, +borrowed from the <i>Disciplina Clericalis</i> of Petrus Alfonsus, +a converted Spanish Jew, who flourished in the 12th century, and +who avowedly derived the materials of his work from the Arabian +fabulists—probably part of them also from the <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page100" name="page100"></a>[pg +100]</span>Talmud.<a href="#fn_36" id="fnm_36" name= +"fnm_36"><sup>36</sup></a> His eleventh tale is of a king who +desired his minstrel to tell him a long story that should lull him +to sleep. The story-teller accordingly begins to relate how a man +had to cross a ferry with 600 sheep, two at a time, and falls +asleep in the midst of his narration. The king awakes him, but the +story-teller begs that the man be allowed to ferry over the sheep +before he resumes the story.<a href="#fn_37" id="fnm_37" name= +"fnm_37"><sup>37</sup></a>—Possibly the original form of the +story is that found in the <i>Kathá Manjarí</i>, an +ancient Indian story-book: There was a king who used to inquire of +all the learned men who came to his court whether they knew any +stories, and when they had related all they knew, in order to avoid +rewarding them, he abused them <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page101" name="page101"></a>[pg 101]</span>for knowing so few, and +sent them away. A shrewd and clever man, hearing of this, presented +himself before the king, who asked his name. He replied that his +name was Ocean of Stories. The king then inquired how many stories +he knew, to which he answered that the name of Ocean had been +conferred on him because he knew an endless number. On being +desired to relate one, he thus began: “O King, there was a +tank 36,000 miles in breadth, and 54,000 in length. This was +densely filled with lotus plants, and millions upon millions of +birds with golden wings [called Hamsa] perched on those flowers. +One day a hurricane arose, accompanied with rain, which the birds +were not able to endure, and they entered a cave under a rock, +which was in the vicinity of the tank.” The king asked what +happened next, and he replied that one of the birds flew away. The +king again inquired what else occurred, and he answered: +“Another flew away”; and to every question of the king +he continued to give the same answer. At this the king felt +ashamed, and, seeing it was impossible to outwit the man, he +dismissed him with a handsome present.</p> +<p>A story bearing some resemblance to this is related of a +khalíf who was wont to cheat poets of their expected reward +when they recited their compositions to him, until he was at length +outwitted by the famous Arabian poet Al-Asma’í: It is +said that a khalíf, who was very penurious, contrived by a +trick to send from his presence without any reward those +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page102" name="page102"></a>[pg +102]</span>poets who came and recited their compositions to him. He +had himself the faculty of retaining in his memory a poem after +hearing it only once; he had a mamlúk (white slave) who +could repeat one that he had heard twice; and a slave-girl who +could repeat one that she had heard thrice. Whenever a poet came to +compliment him with a panegyrical poem, the king used to promise +him that if he found his verses to be of his own composition he +would give him a sum of money equal in weight to what they were +written on. The poet, consenting, would recite his ode, and the +king would say: “It is not new, for I have known it some +years”; and he would repeat it as he had heard it; after +which he would add: “And this mamlúk also retains it +in his memory,” and order the mamlúk to repeat it, +which, having heard it twice, from the poet and the king, he would +do. Then the king would say to the poet: “I have also a +slave-girl who can repeat it,” and, ordering her to do so, +stationed behind the curtains, she would repeat what she had thus +thrice heard; so the poet would go away empty-handed. The +celebrated poet Al-Asma’í, having heard of this +device, determined upon outwitting the king, and accordingly +composed an ode made up of very difficult words. But this was not +the poet’s only preparative measure—another will be +presently explained; and a third was to assume the dress of a +Bedouin, that he might not be known, covering his face, the eyes +only excepted, with a <em>litham</em> (piece of drapery), as +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page103" name="page103"></a>[pg +103]</span>is usual with the Arabs of the desert. Thus disguised, +he went to the palace, and having obtained permission, entered and +saluted the king, who said to him: “Who art thou, O brother +of the Arabs? and what dost thou desire?” The poet answered: +“May Allah increase the power of the king! I am a poet of +such a tribe, and have composed an ode in praise of our lord the +khalíf.” “O brother of the Arabs,” said +the king, “hast thou heard of our condition?” +“No,” answered the poet; “and what is it, O +khalíf of the age?” “It is,” replied the +king, “that if the ode be not thine, we give thee no reward; +and if it be thine, we give thee the weight in money equal to what +it is written upon.” “How,” said the poet, +“should I assume to myself that which belongeth to another, +and knowing, too, that lying before kings is one of the basest of +actions? But I agree to the condition, O our lord the +khalíf.” So he repeated his ode. The king, perplexed, +and unable to remember any of it, made a sign to the mamlúk, +but he had retained nothing; then called to the female slave, but +she was unable to repeat a word. “O brother of the +Arabs,” said the king, “thou hast spoken truth; and the +ode is thine without doubt. I have never heard it before. Produce, +therefore, what it is written upon, and I will give thee its weight +in money, as I have promised.” “Wilt thou,” said +the poet, “send one of the attendants to carry it?” +“To carry what?” demanded the king. “Is it not +upon a paper in thy possession?” “No, O our lord +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page104" name="page104"></a>[pg +104]</span>the khalíf. At the time I composed it I could not +procure a piece of paper on which to write it, and could find +nothing but a fragment of a marble column left me by my father; so +I engraved it upon that, and it lies in the courtyard of the +palace.” He had brought it, wrapped up, on the back of a +camel. The king, to fulfil his promise, was obliged to exhaust his +treasury; and, to prevent a repetition of this trick, in future +rewarded poets according to the custom of kings.</p> +<p class="spacedTop"><em>Apropos</em> of royal gifts to poets, it +is related that, when the Afghans had possession of Persia, a rude +chief of that nation was governor of Shíráz. A poet +composed a panegyric on his wisdom, his valour, and his virtues. As +he was taking it to the palace he was met by a friend at the outer +gate, who inquired where he was going, and he informed him of his +purpose. His friend asked him if he was insane, to offer an ode to +a barbarian who hardly understood a word of the Persian language. +“All that you say may be very true,” said the poor +poet, “but I am starving, and have no means of livelihood but +by making verses. I must, therefore, proceed.” He went and +stood before the governor with his ode in his hand. “Who is +that fellow?” said the Afghan lord. “And what is that +paper which he holds?” “I am a poet,” answered +the man, “and this paper contains some poetry.” +“What is the use of poetry?” demanded the governor. +“To render <span class="pagenum"><a id="page105" name= +"page105"></a>[pg 105]</span>great men like you immortal,” he +replied, making at the same time a profound bow. “Let us hear +some of it.” The poet, on this mandate, began reading his +composition aloud, but he had not finished the second stanza when +he was interrupted. “Enough!” exclaimed the governor; +“I understand it all. Give the poor man some +money—<em>that</em> is what he wants.” As the poet +retired he met his friend, who again commented on the folly of +carrying odes to a man who did not understand one of them. +“Not understand!” he replied. “You are quite +mistaken. He has beyond all men the quickest apprehension of a +<em>poet’s meaning</em>!”</p> +<p>The khalífs were frequently lavish of their gifts to +poets, but they were fond of having their little jokes with them +when in merry mood. One day the Arabian poet Thálebí +read before the khalíf Al-Mansúr a poem which he had +just composed, and it found acceptance. The khalíf said: +“O Thálebí, which wouldst thou rather +have—that I give thee 300 gold dínars [about +£150], or three wise sayings, each worth 100 +dínars?” The poet replied: “Learning, O +Commander of the Faithful, is better than transitory +treasure.” “Well, then,” said the khalíf, +“the first saying is: When thy garment grows old, sew not a +new patch on it, for it hath an ill look.” “O +woe!” cried the poet, “one hundred dínars are +lost!” Mansúr smiled, and proceeded: “The second +saying is: When thou anointest thy beard, anoint not the lower +part, for that would <span class="pagenum"><a id="page106" name= +"page106"></a>[pg 106]</span>soil the collar of thy vest.” +“Alas!” exclaimed Thálebí, “a +thousand times, alas! two hundred dínars are lost!” +Again the khalíf smiled, and continued: “The third +saying”—but before he had spoken it, the poet said: +“O khalíf of our prosperity, keep the third maxim in +thy treasury, and give me the remaining hundred dínars, for +they will be worth a thousand times more to me than the hearing of +maxims.” At this the khalíf laughed heartily, and +commanded his treasurer to give Thálebí five hundred +dínars of gold.</p> +<p>A droll story is told of the Persian poet Anwarí: Passing +the market-place of Balkh one day, he saw a crowd of people +standing in a ring, and going up, he put his head within the circle +and found a fellow reciting the poems of Anwarí himself as +his own. Anwarí went up to the man, and said: “Sir, +whose poems are these you are reciting?” He replied: +“They are Anwarí’s.” “Do you know +him, then?” said Anwarí. The man, with cool +effrontery, answered: “What do you say? I am +Anwarí.” On hearing this Anwarí laughed, and +remarked: “I have heard of one who stole poetry, but never of +one who stole the poet himself!”—Talking of +“stealing poetry,” Jámí tells us that a +man once brought a composition to a critic, every line of which he +had plagiarised from different collections of poems, and each +rhetorical figure from various authors. Quoth the critic: +“For a wonder, thou hast brought a line of camels; but if the +string were untied, every one of the herd would run away in +different directions.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page107" name="page107"></a>[pg +107]</span>There is no little humour in the story of the Persian +poet who wrote a eulogium on a rich man, but got nothing for his +trouble; he then abused the rich man, but he said nothing; he next +seated himself at the rich man’s gate, who said to him: +“You praised me, and I said nothing; you abused me, and I +said nothing; and now, why are you sitting here?” The poet +answered: “I only wish that when you die I may perform the +funeral service.”</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Oriental_5" name= +"Oriental_5"></a>V</h3> +<p class="small cen">UNLUCKY OMENS—THE OLD MAN’S +PRAYER—THE OLD WOMAN IN THE MOSQUE—THE WEEPING +TURKMANS—THE TEN FOOLISH PEASANTS—THE WAKEFUL +SERVANT—THE THREE DERVISHES—THE OIL-MAN’S +PARROT—THE MOGHUL AND HIS PARROT—THE PERSIAN SHOPKEEPER +AND THE PRIME MINISTER—HEBREW FACETIÆ.</p> +<p>Muslims and other Asiatic peoples, like Europeans not so many +centuries since, are always on the watch for lucky or unlucky +omens. On first going out of a morning, the looks and countenances +of those who cross their path are scrutinised, and a smile or a +frown is deemed favourable or the reverse. To encounter a person +blind of the left eye, or even with one eye, forebodes sorrow and +calamity. While Sir John Malcolm was in Persia, as British +Ambassador, he was told the following story: When Abbas the Great +was hunting, he met one morning as day dawned an uncommonly ugly +man, at the sight of whom his horse started. Being nearly +dismounted, and deeming it a bad omen, the king called out in a +rage <span class="pagenum"><a id="page108" name="page108"></a>[pg +108]</span>to have his head cut off. The poor peasant, whom the +attendants had seized and were on the point of executing, prayed +that he might be informed of his crime. “Your crime,” +said the king, “is your unlucky countenance, which is the +first object I saw this morning, and which has nearly caused me to +fall from my horse.” “Alas!” said the man, +“by this reckoning what term must I apply to your +Majesty’s countenance, which was the first object my eyes met +this morning, and which is to cause my death?” The king +smiled at the wit of the reply, ordered the man to be released, and +gave him a present instead of cutting off his head.—Another +Persian story is to the same purpose: A man said to his servant: +“If you see two crows together early in the morning, apprise +me of it, that I may also behold them, as it will be a good omen, +whereby I shall pass the day pleasantly.” The servant did +happen to see two crows sitting in one place, and informed his +master, who, however, when he came saw but one, the other having in +the meantime flown away. He was very angry, and began to beat the +servant, when a friend sent him a present of game. Upon this the +servant exclaimed: “O my lord! you saw only one crow, and +have received a fine present; had you seen <em>two</em>, you would +have met with <em>my</em> fare.”<a href="#fn_38" id="fnm_38" +name="fnm_38"><sup>38</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page109" name="page109"></a>[pg +109]</span>It would seem, from the following story, that an old +man’s prayers are sometimes reversed in response, as dreams +are said to “go by contraries”: An old Arab left his +house one morning, intending to go to a village at some distance, +and coming to the foot of a hill which he had to cross he +exclaimed: “O Allah! send some one to help me over this +hill.” Scarcely had he uttered these words when up came a +fierce soldier, leading a mare with a very young colt by her side, +who compelled the old man, with oaths and threats, to carry the +colt. As they trudged along, they met a poor woman with a sick +child in her arms. The old man, as he laboured under the weight of +the colt, kept groaning, “O Allah! O Allah!” and, +supposing him to be a dervish, the woman asked him to pray for the +recovery of her child. In compliance, the old man said: “O +Allah! I beseech thee to shorten the days of this poor +child.” “Alas!” cried the mother, “why hast +thou made such a cruel prayer?” “Fear nothing,” +said the old man; “thy child will assuredly enjoy long life. +It is my fate to have the reverse of whatever I pray for. I +implored Allah for assistance to carry me over this hill, and, by +way of help, I suppose, I have had this colt imposed on my +shoulders.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Jámí tells this humorous story +in the Sixth “Garden” of his +<i>Baháristán</i>, or Abode of Spring: A man said the +prescribed prayers in a mosque and then began his personal +supplications. An old woman, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page110" +name="page110"></a>[pg 110]</span>who happened to be near him, +exclaimed: “O Allah! cause me to share in whatsoever he +supplicates for.” The man, overhearing her, then prayed: +“O Allah! hang me on a gibbet, and cause me to die of +scourging.” The old trot continued: “O Allah! pardon +me, and preserve me from what he has asked for.” Upon this +the man turned to her and said: “What a very unreasonable +partner this is! She desires to share in all that gives rest and +pleasure, but she refuses to be my partner in distress and +misery.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">We have already seen that even the grave and +otiose Turk is not devoid of a sense of the ludicrous, and here is +another example, from Mr. E. J. W. Gibb’s translation of the +<i>History of the Forty Vezírs</i>: A party of Turkmans left +their encampment one day and went into a neighbouring city. +Returning home, as they drew near their tents, they felt hungry, +and sat down and ate some bread and onions at a spring-head. The +juice of the onions went into their eyes and caused them to water. +Now the children of those Turkmans had gone out to meet them, and, +seeing the tears flow from their eyes, they concluded that one of +their number had died in the city, so, without making any inquiry, +they ran back, and said to their mothers: “One of ours is +dead in the city, and our fathers are coming weeping.” Upon +this all the women and children of the encampment went forth to +meet them, weeping together. The Turkmans who were coming from the +city thought <span class="pagenum"><a id="page111" name= +"page111"></a>[pg 111]</span>that one of theirs had died in the +encampment; and thus they were without knowledge one of the other, +and they raised a weeping and wailing together such that it cannot +be described. At length the elders of the camp stood up in their +midst and said: “May ye all remain whole; there is none other +help than patience”; and they questioned them. The Turkmans +coming from the city asked: “Who is dead in the camp?” +The others replied: “No one is dead in the camp; who has died +in the city?” Those who were coming from the city, said: +“No one has died in the city.” The others said: +“For whom then are ye wailing and lamenting?” At length +they perceived that all this tumult arose from their trusting the +words of children.</p> +<p>This last belongs rather to the class of simpleton-stories; and +in the following, from the Rev. J. Hinton Knowles’ <i>Folk +Tales of Kashmír</i> (Trübner: 1888), we have a variant +of the well-known tale of the twelve men of Gotham who went one day +to fish, and, before returning home, miscounted their number, of +which several analogues are given in my <i>Book of Noodles</i>, pp. +28 ff. (Elliot Stock: 1888): Ten peasants were standing on the side +of the road weeping. They thought that one of their number had been +lost on the way, as each man had counted the company, and found +them nine only. “Ho! you—what’s the +matter?” shouted a townsman passing by. “O sir,” +said the peasants, “we were ten men when we left the village, +but now we are only nine.” The townsman <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page112" name="page112"></a>[pg 112]</span>saw at +a glance what fools they were: each of them had omitted to count +himself in the number. He therefore told them to take off their +<em>topís</em> (skull-caps) and place them on the ground. +This they did, and counted ten of them, whereupon they concluded +they were all there, and were comforted. But they could not tell +how it was.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">That wakefulness is not necessarily +watchfulness may seem paradoxical, yet here is a Persian story +which goes far to show that they are not always synonymous terms: +Once upon a time (to commence in the good old way) there came into +a city a merchant on horseback, attended by his servant on foot. +Hearing that the city was infested by many bold and expert thieves, +in consequence of which property was very insecure, he said to his +servant at night: “I will keep watch, and do you sleep; for I +cannot trust you to keep awake, and I much fear that my horse may +be stolen.” But to this arrangement his faithful servant +would not consent, and he insisted upon watching all night. So the +master went to sleep, and three hours after awoke, when he called +to his servant: “What are you doing?” He answered: +“I am meditating how Allah has spread the earth upon the +water.” The master said: “I am afraid lest thieves +come, and you know nothing of it.” “O my lord, be +satisfied; I am on the watch.” The merchant again went to +sleep, and awaking about midnight cried: “Ho! what are you +doing?” The servant replied: <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page113" name="page113"></a>[pg 113]</span>“I am considering +how Allah has supported the sky without pillars.” Quoth the +master: “But I am afraid that while you are busy meditating +thieves will carry off my horse.” “Be not afraid, +master, I am fully awake; how, then, can thieves come?” The +master replied: “If you wish to sleep, I will keep +watch.” But the servant would not hear of this; he was not at +all sleepy; so his master addressed himself once more to slumber; +and when one hour of the night yet remained he awoke, and as usual +asked him what he was doing, to which he coolly answered: “I +am considering, since the thieves have stolen the horse, whether I +shall carry the saddle on my head, or you, sir.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Somewhat akin to the familiar +“story” of the man whose eyesight was so extraordinary +that he could, standing in the street, perceive a fly on the dome +of St. Paul’s is the tale of the Three Dervishes who, +travelling in company, came to the sea-shore of Syria, and desired +the captain of a vessel about to sail for Cyprus to give them a +passage. The captain was willing to take them “for a +consideration”; but they told him they were dervishes, and +therefore without money, but they possessed certain wonderful +gifts, which might be of use to him on the voyage. The first +dervish said that he could descry any object at the distance of a +year’s journey; the second could hear at as great a distance +as his brother could see. “Well!” exclaimed the +captain, “these are truly <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page114" name="page114"></a>[pg 114]</span>miraculous gifts; and +pray, sir,” said he, turning to the third dervish, +“what may <em>your</em> particular gift be?” “I, +sir,” replied he, “am an unbeliever.” When the +captain heard this, he said he could not take such a person on +board of his ship; but on the others declaring they must all three +go together or remain behind, he at length consented to allow the +third dervish a passage with the two highly-gifted ones. In the +course of the voyage, it happened one fine day that the captain and +the three dervishes were on deck conversing, when suddenly the +first dervish exclaimed: “Look, look!—see, +there—the daughter of the sultan of India sitting at the +window of her palace, working embroidery.” “A mischief +on your eyes!” cried the second dervish, “for her +needle has this moment dropped from her hand, and I hear it sound +upon the pavement below her window.” “Sir,” said +the third dervish, addressing the captain, “shall I, or shall +I not, be an unbeliever?” Quoth the captain: “Come, +friend, come with me into my cabin, and let us cultivate unbelief +together!”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">A very droll parrot story occurs—where, +indeed, we should least expect to meet with such a thing—in +the <i>Masnaví</i> of Jelálu-‘d-Dín +er-Rúmí (13th century), a grand mystical poem, or +rather series of poems, in six books, written in Persian rhymed +couplets, as the title indicates. In the second poem of the First +Book we read that an oilman possessed a fine parrot, who amused him +with her prattle and watched his shop <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page115" name="page115"></a>[pg 115]</span>during his absence. It +chanced one day, when the oilman had gone out, that a cat ran into +the shop in chase of a mouse, which so frightened the parrot that +she flew about from shelf to shelf, upsetting several jars and +spilling their contents. When her master returned and saw the havoc +made among his goods he fetched the parrot a blow that knocked out +all her head feathers, and from that day she sulked on her perch. +The oilman, missing the prattle of his favourite, began to shower +his alms on every passing beggar, in hopes that some one would +induce the parrot to speak again. At length a bald-headed mendicant +came to the shop one day, upon seeing whom, the parrot, breaking +her long silence, cried out: “Poor fellow! poor fellow! hast +thou, too, upset some oil-jar?”<a href="#fn_39" id="fnm_39" +name="fnm_39"><sup>39</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page116" name="page116"></a>[pg +116]</span>Somewhat more credible is the tale of the man who taught +a parrot to say, “What doubt is there of this?” +(<em>dur ín cheh shuk</em>) and took it to market for sale, +fixing the price at a hundred rupís. A Moghul asked the +bird: “Are you really worth a hundred rupís?” to +which the bird answered very readily: “What doubt is there of +this?” Delighted with the apt reply, he bought the parrot and +took it home; but he soon found that, whatever he might say, the +bird always made the same answer, so he repented his purchase and +exclaimed: “I was certainly a great fool to buy this +bird!” The parrot said: “What doubt is there of +this?” The Moghul smiled, and gave the bird her liberty.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Sir John Malcolm cites a good example of the +ready wit of the citizens of Isfahán, in his entertaining +<i>Sketches of Persia</i>, as follows: When the celebrated Haji +Ibrahím was prime minister of Persia [some sixty years +since], his brother was governor of Isfahán, while other +members of his family held <span class="pagenum"><a id="page117" +name="page117"></a>[pg 117]</span>several of the first offices of +the kingdom. A shop-keeper one day went to the governor to +represent that he was unable to pay certain taxes. “You must +pay them,” replied the governor, “or leave the +city.” “Where can I go to?” asked the +Isfahání. “To Shíráz or +Kashan.” “Your nephew rules in one city and your +brother in the other.” “Go to the Sháh, and +complain if you like.” “Your brother the Haji is prime +minister.” “Then go to Satan,” said the enraged +governor. “Haji Merhúm, your father, the pious +pilgrim, is dead,” rejoined the undaunted +Isfahání. “My friend,” said the governor, +bursting into laughter, “I will pay your taxes, even myself, +since you declare that my family keep you from all redress, both in +this world and the next.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">The Hebrew Rabbis who compiled the Talmud +were, some of them, witty as well as wise—indeed I have +always held that wisdom and wit are cousins german, if not full +brothers—and our specimens of Oriental Wit and Humour may be +fittingly concluded with a few Jewish jests from a scarce little +book, entitled, <i>Hebrew Tales</i>, by Hyman Hurwitz: An Athenian, +walking about in the streets of Jerusalem one day, called to a +little Hebrew boy, and, giving him a <em>pruta</em> (a small coin +of less value than a farthing), said: “Here is a pruta, my +lad, bring me something for it, of which I may eat enough, leave +some for my host, and carry some home to my family.” The boy +went, and presently returned <span class="pagenum"><a id="page118" +name="page118"></a>[pg 118]</span>with a quantity of salt, which he +handed to the jester. “Salt!” he exclaimed, “I +did not ask thee to buy me salt.” “True,” said +the urchin; “but didst thou not tell me to bring thee +something of which thou mightest eat, leave, and take home? Of this +salt there is surely enough for all three purposes.”<a href= +"#fn_40" id="fnm_40" name="fnm_40"><sup>40</sup></a></p> +<p>Another Athenian desired a boy to buy him some cheese and eggs. +Having done so, “Now, my lad,” said the stranger, +“tell me which of these cheese were made of the milk of white +goats and which of black goats?” The little Hebrew answered: +“Since thou art older than I, and more experienced, first do +thou tell me which of these eggs came from white and which from +black hens.”</p> +<p>Once more did a Hebrew urchin prove his superiority in wit over +an Athenian: “Here, boy,” said he, “here is some +money; bring us some figs and grapes.” The lad went and +bought the fruit, kept half of it for himself, and gave the other +half to the Athenian. “How!” cried the man, “is +it the custom of this city for a messenger to take half of what he +is sent to purchase?” “No,” replied the boy; +“but it is our custom to speak what we mean, and to do what +we are desired.” “Well, then, I did <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page119" name="page119"></a>[pg 119]</span>not +desire thee to take half of the fruit.” “Why, what else +could you mean,” rejoined the little casuist, “by +saying, ‘Bring <em>us</em>?’ Does not that word include +the hearer as well as the speaker?” The stranger, not knowing +how to answer such reasoning, smiled and went his way, leaving the +shrewd lad to eat his share of the fruit in peace.</p> +<p>“There is no rule without some exception,” as the +following tale demonstrates: Rabbi Eliezar, who was as much +distinguished by his greatness of mind as by the extraordinary size +of his body, once paid a friendly visit to Rabbi Simon. The learned +Simon received him most cordially, and filling a cup with wine +handed it to him. Eliezar took it and drank it off at a draught. +Another was poured out—it shared the same fate. +“Brother Eliezar,” said Simon, jestingly, +“rememberest thou not what the wise men have said on this +subject?” “I well remember,” replied his +corpulent friend, “the saying of our instructors, that people +ought not to take a cup at one draught. But the wise men have not +so defined their rule as to admit of no exception; and in this +instance there are not less than three—the <em>cup</em> is +small, the <em>receiver</em> is large, and your <span class= +"small">WINE</span>, brother Simon, is <span class= +"small">DELICIOUS</span>!”</p> +<h2 class="spacedTop"><a id="Parrot" name="Parrot"></a>TALES OF A +PARROT.</h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page123" name="page123"></a>[pg +123]</span></p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Parrot_1" name="Parrot_1"></a>I</h3> +<p class="small cen">GENERAL PLAN OF EASTERN ROMANCES—THE +“TÚTÍ NÁMA,” OR +PARROT-BOOK—THE FRAME-STORY—TALES: THE STOLEN +IMAGES—THE WOMAN CARVED OUT OF WOOD—THE MAN WHOSE MARE +WAS KICKED BY A MERCHANT’S HORSE.</p> +<p>Oriental romances are usually constructed on the plan of a +number of tales connected by a general or leading story running +throughout, like the slender thread that holds a necklace of pearls +together—a familiar example of which is the <i>Book of the +Thousand and One Nights</i>, commonly known amongst us under the +title of <i>Arabian Nights Entertainments</i>. In some the +subordinate tales are represented as being told by one or more +individuals to serve a particular object, by the moral, or warning, +which they are supposed to convey; as in the case of the <i>Book of +Sindibád</i>, in which a prince is falsely accused by one of +his father’s ladies, and defended by the king’s seven +vazírs, or counsellors, who each in turn relate to the king +two stories, the purport of which being to warn him to put no faith +in the accusations of women, to which the lady replies by stories +representing the wickedness and perfidy of men; and that of the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page124" name="page124"></a>[pg +124]</span><i>Bakhtyár Náma</i>, in which a youth, +falsely accused of having violated the royal harem, obtains for +himself a respite from death during ten days by relating to the +king each day a story designed to caution him against precipitation +in matters of importance. In others supernatural beings are the +narrators of the subordinate tales, as in the Indian romances, +<i>Vetála Panchavinsati</i>, or Twenty-five Tales of a +Demon, and the <i>Sinhásana Dwatrinsati</i>, or Tales of the +Thirty-two Speaking Statues—literally, Thirty-two (Tales) of +a Throne. In others, again, the relators are birds, as in the +Indian work entitled <i>Hamsa Vinsati</i>, or Twenty Tales of a +Goose.</p> +<p>Of this last class is the popular Persian work, +<i>Tútí Náma</i>, (Tales of a Parrot, or +Parrot-Book), of which I purpose furnishing some account, as it has +not yet been completely translated into English. This work was +composed, according to Pertsch, in <span class="small">A.D.</span> +1329, by a Persian named Nakhshabí, after an older Persian +version, now lost, which was made from a Sanskrit work, also no +longer extant, but of which the modern representative is the +<i>Suka Saptati</i>, or Seventy Tales of a Parrot.<a href="#fn_41" +id="fnm_41" name="fnm_41"><sup>41</sup></a> The frame, or leading +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page125" name="page125"></a>[pg +125]</span>story, of the Persian Parrot-Book is to the following +effect:</p> +<p>A merchant who had a very beautiful wife informs her one day +that he has resolved to travel into foreign countries in order to +increase his wealth by trade. His wife endeavours to persuade him +to remain at home in peace and security instead of imperiling his +life among strangers. But he expatiates on the evils of poverty and +the advantages of wealth: “A man without riches is +fatherless, and a home without money is deserted. He that is in +want of cash is a nonentity, and wanders in the land unknown. It +is, therefore, everybody’s duty to procure as much money as +possible; for gold is the delight of our lives—it is the +bright live-coal of our hearts—the yellow links which fasten +the coat of mail—the gentle stimulative of the +world—the complete coining die of the globe—the +traveller who speaks all languages, and is welcome in every +city—the splendid bride unveiled—the defender, +register, and mirror of jehandars. The man who has dirhams +[<i>Scottice</i>, ‘siller’—<i>Fr.</i> +‘l’argent’] is handsome; the sun never shines on +the inauspicious man without money.”<a href="#fn_42" id= +"fnm_42" name="fnm_42"><sup>42</sup></a> Before leaving home the +merchant purchased at great cost in the bazaar a wonderful parrot, +that could discourse eloquently and <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page126" name="page126"></a>[pg 126]</span>intelligently, and also +a sharak, a species of nightingale, which, according to Gerrans, +“imitates the human voice in so surprising a manner that, if +you do not see the bird, you cannot help being deceived”; +and, having put them into the same cage, he charged his spouse that +whenever she had any matter of importance to transact she should +first obtain the sanction of both birds.</p> +<p>The merchant having protracted his absence many months +(Vatsyayana, in his <i>Káma Sutra</i>, says that the man who +is given to much travelling does not deserve to be married), and, +his wife chancing to be on the roof of her house one day when a +young foreign prince of handsome appearance passed by with his +attendants, she immediately fell in love with him—“the +battle-axe of prudence dropped from her hand; the vessel of +continence became a sport to the waves <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page127" name="page127"></a>[pg 127]</span>of confusion; while the +avenues leading to the fortress of reason remained unguarded, the +sugar-cane of incontinence triumphantly raised its head above the +rose-tree of patience.” The prince had also observed the +lady, as she stood on the terrace of her house, and was instantly +enamoured of her. He sends an old woman (always the +obliging—“for a consideration”—go-between +of Eastern lovers) to solicit an interview with the lady at his own +palace in the evening, and, after much persuasion, she consents. +Arraying her beauteous person in the finest apparel, she proceeds +to the cage, and first consults the sharak as to the propriety of +her purpose. The sharak forbids her to go, and is at once rewarded +by having her head wrung off. She then represents her case to the +parrot, who, having witnessed the fate of his companion, prudently +resolves to temporise with the amorous dame; so he “quenched +the fire of her indignation with the water of flattery, and began a +tale conformable to her temperament, which he took care to protract +till the morning.” In this manner does the prudent parrot +prevent the lady’s intended intrigue by relating, night after +night, till the merchant returns home from his travels, one or more +fascinating tales, which he does not bring to an end till it is too +late for the assignation.<a href="#fn_43" id="fnm_43" name= +"fnm_43"><sup>43</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page128" name="page128"></a>[pg +128]</span>The order of the parrot’s tales is not the same in +all texts; in Kádirí’s abridgment there are few +of the Nights which correspond with those of the India Office MS. +No. 2573, which may, perhaps, be partly accounted for by the +circumstance that Kádirí has given only 35 of the 52 +tales that are in the original text. For the general reader, +however, the sequence of the tales is a minor consideration; and I +shall content myself with giving abstracts of some of the best +stories, irrespective of their order in any text, and complete +translations of two or three others. It so happens that the Third +Night is the same in Kádirí and the India Office MS. +No. 2573, which comprises the complete text; and the story the +eloquent bird relates on that night may be entitled</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Stolen Images.</h4> +<p>A goldsmith and a carpenter, travelling in company, steal from a +Hindú temple some golden images, which, when they arrive in +the neighbourhood of their own city, they bury beneath a tree. The +goldsmith goes secretly one night and carries away the images, and +next morning, when both go together to share the spoil, the +goldsmith accuses the carpenter of having played him false. But the +carpenter was a shrewd fellow, and so he makes a figure resembling +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page129" name="page129"></a>[pg +129]</span>the goldsmith, dresses it in clothes similar to what he +usually wore, and procures a couple of bear’s cubs, which he +teaches to take their food from the skirts and sleeves of the +effigy. Thus the cubs conceived a great affection for the figure of +the goldsmith. He then contrives to steal the goldsmith’s two +sons, and, when the father comes to seek them at his house, he +pretends they have been changed into young bears. The goldsmith +brings his case before the kází; the cubs are brought +into court, and no sooner do they discover the goldsmith than they +run up and fondle him. Upon this the judge decides in favour of the +carpenter, to whom the goldsmith confesses his guilt, and offers to +give up all the gold if he restore his children, which he does +accordingly.<a href="#fn_44" id="fnm_44" name= +"fnm_44"><sup>44</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page130" name="page130"></a>[pg +130]</span>The Sixth Tale of the Parrot, according to the India +Office MS., relates to</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Woman Carved out of Wood.</h4> +<p>Four men—a goldsmith, a carpenter, a tailor, and a +dervish—travelling together, one night halted in a desert +place, and it was agreed they should watch turn about until +daybreak. The carpenter takes the first watch, and to amuse himself +he carves the figure of a woman out of a log of wood. When it came +to the goldsmith’s turn to watch, finding the beautiful +female figure, he resolved also to exhibit his art, and accordingly +made a set of ornaments of gold and silver, which he placed on the +neck, arms, and ankles. During the third watch the tailor made a +suit of clothes becoming a bride, and put them on the figure. +Lastly, the dervish, when it came to his turn to watch, beholding +the captivating female form, prayed that it might be endowed with +life, and immediately the effigy became animated. In the morning +all four fell in love with the charming damsel, each claiming her +for himself; the carpenter, because he had carved her with his own +hands; the goldsmith, because he had adorned her with gems; the +tailor, because he had suitably clothed her; and the dervish, +because he had, by his intercession, <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page131" name="page131"></a>[pg 131]</span>endowed her with life. +While they were thus disputing, a man came to the spot, to whom +they referred the case. On seeing the woman, he exclaimed: +“This is my own wife, whom you have stolen from me,” +and compelled them to come before the kutwal, who, on viewing her +beauty, in his turn claimed her as the wife of his brother, who had +been waylaid and murdered in the desert. The kutwal took them all, +with the woman, before the kází, who declared that +she was his slave, who had absconded from his house with a large +sum of money. An old man who was present suggested that they should +all seven appeal to the Tree of Decision, and thither they went +accordingly; but no sooner had they stated their several claims +than the trunk of the tree split open, the woman ran into the +cleft, and on its reuniting she was no more to be seen. A voice +proceeded from the tree, saying: “Everything returns to its +first principles”; and the seven suitors of the woman were +overwhelmed with shame.<a href="#fn_45" id="fnm_45" name= +"fnm_45"><sup>45</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page132" name="page132"></a>[pg +132]</span>I am strongly of opinion that the foregoing story is of +Buddhistic extraction; but however this may be, it is not a bad +specimen of Eastern humour, nor is the following, which the +eloquent bird tells the lady another night:</p> +<h4 class="tale">Of the Man whose Mare was kicked by a +Merchant’s Horse.</h4> +<p>A merchant had a vicious horse that kicked a mare, which he had +warned the owner not to tie near his animal. The man carried the +merchant before the kází, and stated his complaint. +The kází inquired of the merchant what he had to say +in his own defence; but he pretended to be dumb, answering +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page133" name="page133"></a>[pg +133]</span>not a word to the judge’s interrogatives. Upon +this the kází remarked to the plaintiff that since +the merchant was dumb he could not be to blame for the accident. +“How do you know he is dumb?” said the owner of the +mare. “At the time I wished to fasten my mare near his horse +he said, ‘Don’t!’ yet now he feigns himself +dumb.” The kází observed that if he was duly +warned against the accident he had himself to blame, and so +dismissed the case.</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Parrot_2" name="Parrot_2"></a>II</h3> +<p class="small cen">THE EMPEROR’S DREAM—THE GOLDEN +APPARITION—THE FOUR TREASURE-SEEKERS.</p> +<p>We are not without instances in European popular fictions of two +young persons dreaming of each other and falling in love, although +they had never met or known of each other's existence. A notable +example is the story of the Two Dreams in the famous <i>History of +the Seven Wise Masters</i>. Incidents of this kind are very common +in Oriental stories: the romance of <i>Kámarupa</i> (of +Indian origin, but now chiefly known through the Persian version) +is based upon a dream which the hero has of a certain beautiful +princess, with whom he falls in love, and he sets forth with his +companions to find her, should it be at the uttermost ends of the +earth. It so happens that the damsel also dreams of him, and, when +they do meet, they need no introduction to each other. The Indian +romance of <i>Vasayadatta</i> has <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page134" name="page134"></a>[pg 134]</span>a similar plot. But the +royal dreamer and lover in the following story, told by the Parrot +on the 39th Night, according to the India Office MS. No. 2573, +adopted a plan for the discovery of the beauteous object of his +vision more conformable to his own ease:</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Emperor’s Dream.</h4> +<p>An emperor of China dreamt of a very beautiful damsel whom he +had never seen or heard of, and, being sorely pierced with the +darts of love for the creature of his dreaming fancy, he could find +no peace of mind. One of his vazírs, who was an excellent +portrait painter, receiving from the emperor a minute description +of the lady’s features, drew the face, and the imperial lover +acknowledged the likeness to be very exact. The vazír then +went abroad with the portrait, to see whether any one could +identify it with the fair original. After many disappointments he +met with an old hermit, who at once recognised it as the portrait +of the princess of Rúm,<a href="#fn_46" id="fnm_46" name= +"fnm_46"><sup>46</sup></a> who, he informed the vazír, had +an unconquerable aversion against men ever since she beheld, in her +garden, a peacock basely desert his mate and their young ones, when +the tree on which their nest was built had been struck by +lightning. She believed that all men were quite as selfish as that +peacock, and was resolved never to marry. Returning <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page135" name="page135"></a>[pg 135]</span>to his +imperial master with these most interesting particulars regarding +the object of his affection, he next undertakes to conquer the +strange and unnatural aversion of the princess. Taking with him the +emperor’s portrait and other pictures, he procures access to +the princess of Rúm; shows her, first, the portrait of the +emperor of China, and then pictures of animals in the royal +menagerie, among others that of a deer, concerning which he relates +a story to the effect that the emperor, sitting one day in his +summer-house, saw a deer, his doe, and their fawn on the bank of +the river, when suddenly the waters overflowed the banks, and the +doe, in terror for her life, fled away, while the deer bravely +remained with the fawn and was drowned. This story, so closely +resembling her own, struck the fair princess with wonder and +admiration, and she at once gave her consent to be united to the +emperor of China; and we may suppose that “they continued +together in joy and happiness until they were overtaken by the +terminater of delights and the separator of companions.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">There can be little or no doubt, I think, that +in this tale we find the original of the frame, or leading story, +of the Persian Tales, ascribed to a dervish named Mukhlis, of +Isfahán, and written after the <i>Arabian Nights</i>, as it +is believed, in which the nurse of the Princess has to relate +almost as many stories to overcome her aversion against men (the +result of <span class="pagenum"><a id="page136" name= +"page136"></a>[pg 136]</span>an incident similar to that witnessed +by the Lady of Rúm) as the renowned Sheherazade had to tell +her lord, who entertained—for a very different reason—a +bitter dislike of women.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">I now present a story unabridged, translated +by Gerrans in the latter part of the last century. It is assuredly +of Buddhistic origin:</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Golden Apparition.</h4> +<p>In the extreme boundaries of Khurasán there once lived, +according to general report, a merchant named Abdal-Malik, whose +warehouses were crowded with rich merchandise, and whose coffers +overflowed with money. The scions of genius ripened into maturity +under the sunshine of his liberality; the sons of indigence +fattened on the bread of his hospitality; and the parched traveller +amply slaked his thirst in the river of his generosity. One day, as +he meditated on the favours which his Creator had so luxuriantly +showered upon him, he testified his gratitude by the following +resolution: “Long have I traded in the theatre of the world, +much have I received, and little have I bestowed. This wealth was +entrusted to my care, with no other design or intention but to +enable me to assist the unfortunate and indigent. Before, +therefore, the Angel of Death shall come to demand the spoil of my +mortality, it is my last wish and sole intention to expiate my sins +and follies by voluntary oblations of this she-camel <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page137" name="page137"></a>[pg +137]</span>[alluding to the Muslim Feast of the Camel] in the last +month of her pregnancy, and to proclaim to all men, by this late +breakfasting [alluding to the Feast of Ramadan, when food is only +permitted after sunset], my past mortification.”</p> +<p>In the tranquil hour of midnight an apparition stood before him, +in the habit of a fakír. The merchant cried: “What art +thou?” It answered: “I am the apparition of thy good +fortune and the genius of thy future happiness. When thou, with +such unbounded generosity, didst bequeath all thy wealth to the +poor, I determined not to pass by thy door unnoticed, but to endow +thee with an inexhaustible treasure, conformable to the greatness +of thy capacious soul. To accomplish which I will, every morning, +in this shape, appear to thee; thou shalt strike me a few blows on +the head, when I shall instantly fall low at thy feet, transformed +into an image of gold. From this freely take as much as thou shalt +have occasion for; and every member or joint that shall be +separated from the image shall be instantly replaced by another of +the same precious metal.”<a href="#fn_47" id="fnm_47" name= +"fnm_47"><sup>47</sup></a></p> +<p>At daybreak the demon of avarice had conducted Hajm, the +covetous, to the durbar of Abdal-Malik, the generous. Soon after +his arrival the apparition presented itself. Abdal-Malik +immediately arose, and after striking it several blows on the head +it <span class="pagenum"><a id="page138" name="page138"></a>[pg +138]</span>fell down before him, and was changed into an image of +gold. As much as sufficed for the necessities of the day he took +for himself, and gave a much larger portion to his visitor. Hajm +was overjoyed at the present, and concluded from what he had seen +that he or any other person who should treat a fakír in the +same manner could convert him into gold, and consequently that by +beating a number he might multiply his golden images. Heated with +this fond imagination, he quickly returned to his house and gave +the necessary orders for a most sumptuous entertainment, to which +he invited all the fakírs in the province.</p> +<p>When the keen appetite was assuaged, and the exhilarating +sherbet began to enliven the convivial meeting, Hajm seized a +ponderous club, and with it regaled his guests till he broke their +heads, and the crimson torrent stained the carpet of hospitality. +The fakírs elevating the shriek of sore distress, the +kutwal’s guard came to their assistance, and soon a multitude +of people assembled, who, after binding the offender with the +strong cord of captivity, carried him, together with the +fakírs, before the governor of the city. He demanded to know +the reason why he had so inhospitably and cruelly behaved to these +harmless people. The confounded Hajm replied: “As I was +yesterday in the house of Abdal-Malik, a fakír suddenly +appeared. The merchant struck him some blows on the head, and he +fell prostrate before him, transformed into a <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page139" name="page139"></a>[pg 139]</span>golden +image. Imagining that any other person could, by a similar +behaviour, force any fakír to undergo the like +metamorphosis, I invited these men to a banquet, and regaled them +with some blows of my cudgel to compel them to a similar +transformation; but the demon of avarice has deceived me, and the +fascinating temptation of gold has involved me in a labyrinth of +ills.”</p> +<p>The governor at once sent for Abdal-Malik, and, demanding a +solution of Hajm’s mysterious tale, was thus answered by the +charitable merchant: “The unfortunate Hajm is my neighbour. +Some days ago he began to exhibit symptoms of a disordered +imagination and distracted brain, and during these violent +paroxysms of insanity he related some ridiculous fable of me and +the rest of my neighbours. No better specimen can be adduced than +the extravagant action of which he now stands accused, and the +absurd tale by which he attempts to apologise for the commission of +it. That madness may no longer usurp the palace of reason, to revel +upon the ruins of his mind, deliver him to the sons of ingenuity, +the preservers and restorers of health; let them purify his blood +by sparing diet, abridge him of his daily potations, and by the +force of medicinal beverage recall him from the precipice of +ruin.” This advice was warmly applauded by the governor, who, +after Hajm had been compelled to ask pardon of the fakírs +for the ill-treatment they had received, was soundly bastinadoed +before the tribunal, and carried to the hospital for madness.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page140" name="page140"></a>[pg +140]</span>That each man has his “genius” of good or +evil fortune is an essentially Buddhistic idea. The same story +occurs, in a different form, in the <i>Hitopadesa</i>, or Friendly +Counsel, an ancient Sanskrit collection of apologues, and an +abridgment of the <i>Panchatantra</i>, or Five Chapters, where it +forms Fable 10 of Book III: In the city of Ayodhya (Oude) there was +a soldier named Churamani, who, being anxious for money, for a long +time with pain of body worshipped the deity, the jewel of whose +diadem is the lunar crescent. Being at length purified from his +sins, in his sleep he had a vision in which, through the favour of +the deity, he was directed by the lord of the Yakshas [Kuvera, the +god of wealth] to do as follows: “Early in the morning, +having been shaved, thou must stand, club in hand, concealed behind +the door of the house; and the beggar whom thou seest come into the +court thou wilt put to death without mercy by blows of thy staff. +Instantly the beggar will become a pot full of gold, by which thou +wilt be comfortable for the rest of thy life.” These +instructions being followed, it came to pass accordingly; but the +barber who had been brought to shave him, having witnessed it all, +said to himself, “O is this the mode of gaining a treasure? +Why, then, may not I also do the same?” From that day forward +the barber in like manner, with club in hand, day after day awaited +the coming of the beggar. One day a beggar being so caught was +attacked by him and killed with the stick, for which <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page141" name="page141"></a>[pg 141]</span>offence +the barber himself was beaten by the king’s officers, and +died.—In the <i>Panchatantra</i>, in place of a soldier, a +banker who had lost all his wealth determines to put an end to his +life, when he dreams that the personification of Kuvera, the god of +riches, appears before him in the form of a Jaina mendicant—a +conclusive proof of the Buddhistic origin of the story.—A +trunkless head performs the same part in the Russian folk-tale of +the Stepmother’s Daughter, on which Mr. Ralston remarks that, +“according to Buddhist belief the treasure which has belonged +to anyone in a former existence may come to him in the form of a +man, who, when killed, is turned to gold.”<a href="#fn_48" +id="fnm_48" name="fnm_48"><sup>48</sup></a></p> +<p class="spacedTop">There is an analogous story to this of the +Golden Apparition in an entertaining little book entitled, <i>The +Orientalist; or, Letters of a Rabbi</i>, by James Noble, published +at Edinburgh in 1831, of which the following is the outline:</p> +<p>An old Dervish falls ill in the house of a poor widow, who tends +him with great care, and when he recovers his health he offers to +take charge of her only son, Abdallah. The good woman gladly +consents, and the Dervish sets out accompanied by his young ward, +having intimated to his mother that they must perform a journey +which would last about two years. One day they arrived at a +solitary place, and the Dervish said to Abdallah: “My son, we +are now at the end of our <span class="pagenum"><a id="page142" +name="page142"></a>[pg 142]</span>journey. I shall employ my +prayers to obtain from Allah that the earth shall open and make an +entrance wide enough to permit thee to descend into a place where +thou shalt find one of the greatest treasures that the earth +contains. Hast thou courage to descend into the vault?” +Abdallah assured him that he might depend on his fidelity; and then +the Dervish lighted a small fire, into which he cast a perfume: he +read and prayed for some minutes, after which the earth opened, and +he said to the young man: “Thou mayest now enter. Remember +that it is in thy power to do me a great service; and that this is +perhaps the only opportunity thou shalt ever have of testifying to +me that thou art not ungrateful. Do not let thyself be dazzled by +the riches that thou shalt find there: think only of seizing upon +an iron candlestick with twelve branches, which thou shalt find +close to the door. That is absolutely necessary to me: come up with +it at once.” Abdallah descended, and, neglecting the advice +of the Dervish, filled his vest and sleeves with the gold and +jewels which he found heaped up in the vault, whereupon the opening +by which he had entered closed of itself. He had, however, +sufficient presence of mind to seize the iron candlestick, and +endeavoured to find some other means of escape from the vault. At +length he discovers a narrow passage, which he follows until he +reaches the surface of the earth, and looking for the Dervish saw +him not, but to his surprise found that he was close to his +mother’s house. On showing his wealth to his mother, it all +suddenly vanished. But <span class="pagenum"><a id="page143" name= +"page143"></a>[pg 143]</span>the candlestick remained. He lighted +one of the branches, upon which a dervish appeared, and after +turning round an hour he threw down an asper (about three farthings +in value) and vanished. Next night he put a lighted candle in each +of the branches, when twelve dervishes appeared, and having +continued their gyrations for an hour each threw down an asper and +vanished. In this way did Abdallah and his mother contrive to live +for a time, till at length he resolved to carry the candlestick to +the good Dervish, hoping to obtain from him the treasure which he +had seen in the vault. He remembered his name and city, and on +reaching his dwelling found the Dervish living in a magnificent +palace, with fifty porters at the gate. The Dervish thus addressed +Abdallah: “Thou art an ungrateful wretch! Hadst thou known +the value of the candlestick thou wouldst never have brought it to +me. I will show thee its true use.” Then the Dervish placed a +light in each branch, whereupon twelve dervishes appeared and began +to whirl, but on his giving each a blow with a stick, in an instant +they were changed into twelve heaps of sequins, diamonds, and other +precious stones. Ungrateful as Abdallah had shown himself, yet the +Dervish gave him two camels laden with gold, and a slave, telling +him that he must depart the next morning. During the night Abdallah +stole the candlestick and placed it at the bottom of his sacks. At +daybreak he took leave of the generous Dervish and set off. When +about half a day’s journey from his own city he sold the +slave, that there should be no <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page144" name="page144"></a>[pg 144]</span>witness to his former +poverty, and bought another in his stead. Arriving home, he +carefully placed his loads of treasure in a private chamber, and +then put a light in each branch of the candlestick; and when the +twelve dervishes appeared, he dealt each of them a blow with a +stick. But he had not observed that the good Dervish employed his +left hand, and he had naturally used his right, in consequence of +which the twelve dervishes drew each from under their robes a heavy +club and beat him till he was nearly dead, and then vanished, as +did also the treasure, the camels, the slave, and the +wonder-working candlestick!<a href="#fn_49" id="fnm_49" name= +"fnm_49"><sup>49</sup></a></p> +<p class="spacedTop">A warning against avarice is intended to be +conveyed in the tale, or rather apologue, or perhaps we should +consider it as a sort of allegory, related by the sagacious bird on +the 47th Night, according to the India Office MS., but the 16th +Night of Kádirí’s abridgment. It is to the +following effect, and may be entitled</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Four Treasure-Seekers.</h4> +<p>Once on a time four intimate friends, who made a common fund of +all their possessions, and had long <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page145" name="page145"></a>[pg 145]</span>enjoyed the wealth of +their industrious ancestors, at length lost all their goods and +money, and, barely saving their lives, quitted together the place +of their nativity. In the course of their travels they meet a wise +Bráhman, to whom they relate the history of their +misfortunes. He gives each of them a pearl, which he places on +their heads, telling them, whenever the pearl drops from the head +of any of them, to examine the spot, and share equally what they +find there. After walking some distance the pearl drops from the +head of one of the companions, and on examining the place he +discovers a copper mine, the produce of which he offers to share +with the others, but they refuse, and, leaving him, continue their +journey. By-and-by the pearl drops from the head of another of the +friends, and a silver mine is found; but the two others, believing +that better things were in store farther on, left him to his +treasure, and proceeded on their way till the pearl of the third +companion dropped, and they found in the place a rich gold mine. In +vain does he endeavour to persuade his companion to be content with +the wealth here obtainable: he disdainfully refuses, saying that, +since copper, silver, and gold had been found, fortune had +evidently reserved something infinitely better for him; and so he +quitted his friend and went on, till he reached a narrow valley +destitute of water; the air like that of Jehennan;<a href="#fn_50" +id="fnm_50" name="fnm_50"><sup>50</sup></a> the surface of the +earth like <span class="pagenum"><a id="page146" name= +"page146"></a>[pg 146]</span>infernal fire; no animal or bird was +to be seen; and chilling blasts alternated with sulphurous +exhalations. Here the fourth pearl dropped and the owner discovered +a mine of diamonds and other gems, but the ground was covered with +snakes, cockatrices, and the most venomous serpents. On seeing this +he determines to return and share the produce of the third +companion’s gold mine; but when he comes to the spot he can +find no trace of the mine or of the owner. Proceeding next to the +silver mine, he finds it is exhausted, and his friend who owned it +has gone; so he will now content himself with copper; but, alas! +his first friend had died the day before his arrival, and strangers +were now in possession of the mine, who laughed at his pretensions, +and even beat him for his impertinence. Sad at heart, he journeys +on to where he and his companions had met the Bráhman, but +he had long since departed to a far distant country; and thus, +through his obstinacy and avarice, he was overwhelmed with poverty +and disgrace—without money and without friends.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">This story of the Four Treasure-seekers forms +the third of Book V of the <i>Panchatantra</i>, where the fourth +companion, instead of finding a diamond mine guarded by serpents, +etc., discovers a man with a wheel upon his head, and on his asking +this man where he could procure water, who he was, and why he stood +with the wheel on his head, straightway the wheel is transferred to +his own head, as had been the case of the former victim who had +asked the same questions of <span class="pagenum"><a id="page147" +name="page147"></a>[pg 147]</span>his predecessor. The third man, +who had found the gold mine, wondering that his companion tarried +so long, sets off in search of him, and, finding him with the wheel +on his head, asks why he stood thus. The fourth acquaints him of +the property of the wheel, and then relates a number of stories to +show that those who want common sense will surely come to +grief.</p> +<p>It is more than probable that several of the tales and apologues +in the <i>Panchatantra</i> were derived from Buddhist sources; and +the incident of a man with a wheel on his head is found in the +Chinese-Sanskrit work entitled <i>Fu-pen-hing-tsi-king</i>, which +Wassiljew translates ‘Biography of Sákyamuni and his +Companions,’ and of which Dr. Beal has published an abridged +English translation under the title of the <i>Romantic History of +Buddha</i>. In this work (p. 342 ff.) a merchant, who had struck +his mother because she would not sanction his going on a trading +voyage, in the course of his wanderings discovers a man “on +whose head there was placed an iron wheel, this wheel was red with +heat, and glowing as from a furnace, terrible to behold. Seeing +this terrible sight, Máitri exclaimed: ‘Who are you? +Why do you carry that terrible wheel on your head?’ On this +the wretched man replied: ‘Dear sir, is it possible you know +me not? I am a merchant chief called Gorinda.’ Then +Máitri asked him and said: ‘Pray, then, tell me, what +dreadful crime have you committed in former days that you are +constrained to wear that fiery wheel on your head.’ +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page148" name="page148"></a>[pg +148]</span>Then Gorinda answered: ‘In former days I was angry +with and struck my mother as she lay on the ground, and for this +reason I am condemned to wear this fiery iron wheel around my +head.’ At this time Máitri, self-accused, began to cry +out and lament; he was filled with remorse on recollection of his +own conduct, and exclaimed in agony: ‘Now am I caught like a +deer in the snare.’ Then a certain Yaksha, who kept guard +over that city, whose name was Viruka, suddenly came to the spot, +and removing the fiery wheel from off the head of Gorinda, he +placed it on the head of Máitri. Then the wretched man cried +out in his agony and said: ‘O what have I done to merit this +torment?’ to which the Yaksha replied: ‘You, wretched +man, dared to strike your mother on the head as she lay on the +ground; now, therefore, on your head you shall wear this fiery +wheel; through 60,000 years your punishment shall last: be assured +of this, through all these years you shall wear this +wheel.’”</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Parrot_3" name="Parrot_3"></a>III</h3> +<p class="small cen">THE SINGING ASS: THE FOOLISH THIEVES: THE +FAGGOT-MAKER AND THE MAGIC BOWL.</p> +<p>Some of the Parrot’s recitals have other tales sphered +within them, so to say—a plan which must be familiar to all +readers of the <i>Arabian Nights</i>. In the following amusing +tale, which is perhaps the best of the whole series (it is the 41st +of the India <span class="pagenum"><a id="page149" name= +"page149"></a>[pg 149]</span>Office MS. No. 2573, and the 31st in +Kadiri’s version), there are two subordinate stories:</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Singing Ass.</h4> +<p>At a certain period of time, as ancient historians inform us, an +ass and an elk were so fond of each other’s company that they +were never seen separate. If the plains were deficient in pasture, +they repaired to the meadows; or, if famine pervaded the valleys, +they overleaped the garden-fence, and, like friends, divided the +spoil.</p> +<p>One night, during the season of verdure, about the gay +termination of spring, after they had rioted in the cup of plenty, +and lay rolling on a green carpet of spinach, the cup of the silly +ass began to overflow with the froth of conceit, and he thus +expressed his unseasonable intentions:</p> +<p>“O comrade of the branching antlers, what a +mirth-inspiring night is this! How joyous are the heart-attracting +moments of spring! Fragrance distils from every tree; the garden +breathes otto of roses, and the whole atmosphere is pregnant with +musk. In the umbrageous gloom of the waving cypress the turtles are +exchanging their vows, and the bird of a thousand songs +[<i>i.e.</i>, the nightingale] sips nectar from the lips of the +rose: nothing is wanting to complete the joys of spring but one of +my melodious songs. When the warm blood of youth shall cease to +give animation to these elegant limbs of mine, what relish shall I +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page150" name="page150"></a>[pg +150]</span>have for pleasure? And when the lamp of my life is +extinguished, the spring will return in vain.”</p> +<p><em>Nakhshabí, music at every season is delightful, and a +song sweetly murmured captivates the senses.</em></p> +<p><em>The musician who charms our ears will most assuredly find +the road of success to our hearts.</em><a href="#fn_51" id="fnm_51" +name="fnm_51"><sup>51</sup></a></p> +<p>The elk answered: “Sagacious, long-eared associate, what +an unseasonable proposal is this? Rather let us converse together +about pack-saddles and sacks; tell me a story about straw, beans, +or hay-lofts, unmerciful drivers, and heavy burdens.”</p> +<p><em>What business has the Ass to meddle with music?</em></p> +<p><em>What occasion has Long-ears to attempt to sing?</em></p> +<p>“You ought also to recollect,” continued the elk, +“that we are thieves, and that we came into this garden to +plunder. Consider what an enormous quantity of beets, lettuces, +parsley, and radishes we have eaten, and what a fine bed of spinach +we are spoiling! ‘Nothing can be more disgusting than a bird +that sings out of season’ is a proverb which is as current +among the sons of wisdom as a bill of exchange among merchants, and +as valuable as an unpierced pearl. If you are so infatuated as to +permit the enchanting melody of your voice to draw you into this +inextricable labyrinth, the gardener will instantly awake, rouse +his whole caravan of workmen, hasten to this garden and convert our +music into <span class="pagenum"><a id="page151" name= +"page151"></a>[pg 151]</span>mourning; so that our history will be +like that of the house-breakers.”</p> +<p>The Prince of Folly, expressing a wish to know how that was, +received the following information:</p> +<h5 class="tale">The Foolish Thieves.</h5> +<p>In one of the cities of Hindústán some thieves +broke into a house, and after collecting the most valuable movables +sat down in a corner to bind them up. In this corner was a large +two-eared earthen vessel, brimful of the wine of seduction, which +sublime to their mouths they advanced and long-breathed potations +exhausted, crying: “Everything is good in its turn; the hours +of business are past—come on with the gift which fortune +bestows; let us mitigate the toils of the night and smooth the +forehead of care.” As they approached the bottom of the +flagon, the vanguard of intoxication began to storm the castle of +reason; wild uproar, tumult, and their auxiliaries commanded by a +sirdar of nonsense, soon after scaled the walls, and the songs of +folly vociferously proclaimed that the sultan of discretion was +driven from his post, and confusion had taken possession of the +garrison. The noise awakened the master of the mansion, who was +first overwhelmed with surprise, but soon recollecting himself, he +seized his trusty scimitar, and expeditiously roused his servants, +who forthwith attacked the sons of disorder, and with very little +pains or risk extended them on the pavement of death.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page152" name="page152"></a>[pg +152]</span><em>Nakhshabí, everything is good in its +season.</em></p> +<p><em>Let each perform his part in the world, that the world may +go round.</em></p> +<p><em>He who drinks at an unseasonable hour ought not to complain +of the vintner.</em></p> +<p class="spacedTop">Here Long-ears superciliously answered: +“Pusillanimous companion, I am the blossom of the city and +the luminary of the people; my presence gives life to the plains, +and my harmony cultivates the desert. If, when in vulgar prose I +express the unpremeditated idea, every ear is filled with delight, +and the fleeting soul, through ecstacy, flutters on the trembling +lips—what must be the effect of my songs?”</p> +<p>The elk rejoined: “The ear must be deprived of sensation, +the heart void of blood, and formed of the coarsest clay must be he +who can attend your lays with indifference. But condescend, for +once, to listen to advice, and postpone this music, in which you +are so great a proficient, and suppress not only the song, but the +sweet murmuring in your throat, prelusive to your singing, and +shrink not up your graceful nostrils, nor extent the extremities of +your jaws, lest you should have as much reason to repent of your +singing as the faggot-maker had of his dancing.” The ass +demanding how that came to pass, the elk made answer as +follows:</p> +<h5 class="tale">The Faggot-maker and the Magic Bowl.</h5> +<p>As a faggot-maker was one day at work in a wood, he saw four +perís [or fairies] sitting near him, with <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page153" name="page153"></a>[pg 153]</span>a +magnificent bowl before them, which supplied them with all they +wanted. If they had occasion for food of the choicest taste, wines +of the most delicious flavour, garments the most valuable and +convenient, or perfumes of the most odoriferous exhalation—in +short, whatever necessity could require, luxury demand, or avarice +wish for—they had nothing more to do but put their hands into +the bowl and pull out whatever they desired. The day following, the +poor faggot-maker being at work in the same place, the perís +again appeared, and invited him to be one of their party. The +proposal was cheerfully accepted, and impressing his wife and +children with the seal of forgetfulness, he remained some days in +their company. Recollecting himself, however, at last, he thus +addressed his white-robed entertainers:</p> +<p>“I am a poor faggot-maker, father of a numerous family; to +drive famine from my cot, I every evening return with my faggots; +but my cares for my wife and fireside have been for some time past +obliterated by the cup of your generosity. If my petition gain +admission to the durbar of your enlightened auditory, I will return +to give them the salaam of health, and inquire into the situation +of their affairs.”</p> +<p>The perís graciously nodded acquiescence, adding: +“The favours you have received from us are trifling, and we +cannot dismiss you empty-handed. Make choice, therefore, of +whatever you please, and the fervour of your most unbounded desire +shall be slaked in the stream of our munificence.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page154" name="page154"></a>[pg +154]</span>The wood-cutter replied: “I have but one wish to +gratify, and that is so unjust and so unreasonable that I dread the +very thought of naming it, since nothing but the bowl before us +will satisfy my ambitious heart.”</p> +<p>The perís, bursting into laughter, answered: “We +shall suffer not the least inconvenience by the loss of it, for, by +virtue of a talisman which we possess, we could make a thousand in +a twinkling. But, in order to make it as great a treasure to you as +it has been to us, guard it with the utmost care, for it will break +by the most trifling blow, and be sure never to make use of it but +when you really want it.”</p> +<p>The faggot-maker, overcome with joy, said: “I will pay the +most profound attention to this inexhaustible treasure; and to +preserve it from breaking I will exert every faculty of my +soul.” Upon saying this he received the bowl, with which he +returned on the wings of rapture, and for some days enjoyed his +good fortune better than might be expected. The necessaries and +comforts of life were provided for his family, his creditors were +paid, alms distributed to the poor, the brittle bowl of plenty was +guarded with discretion, and everything around him was arranged for +the reception of his friends, who assembled in such crowds that his +cottage overflowed. The faggot-maker, who was one of those choice +elevated spirits whose money never rusts in their possession, +finding his habitation inadequate for the entertainment of his +guests, built another, more <span class="pagenum"><a id="page155" +name="page155"></a>[pg 155]</span>spacious and magnificent, to +which he invited the whole city, and placed the magic bowl in the +middle of the grand saloon, and every time he made a dip pulled out +whatever was wished for. Though the views of his visitors were +various, contentment was visibly inscribed on every forehead: the +hungry were filled with the bread of plenty; the aqueducts +overflowed with the wine of Shíráz; the effeminate +were satiated with musky odours, and the thirst of avarice was +quenched by the bowl of abundance. The wondering spectators +exclaimed: “This is no bowl, but a boundless ocean of +mystery! It is not what it appears to be, a piece of furniture, but +an inexhaustible magazine of treasure!”</p> +<p>After the faggot-maker had thus paraded his good fortune and +circulated the wine-cup with very great rapidity, he stood up and +began to dance, and, to show his dexterity in the art, placed the +brittle bowl on his left shoulder, which every time he turned round +he struck with his hand, crying: “O soul-exhilarating goblet, +thou art the origin of my ease and affluence—the spring of my +pomp and equipage—the engineer who has lifted me from the +dust of indigence to the towering battlements of glory! Thou art +the nimble berid [running foot-man] of my winged wishes, and the +regulator of all my actions! To thee am I indebted for all the +splendour that surrounds me! Thou art the source of my currency, +and art the author of our present festival!”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page156" name="page156"></a>[pg +156]</span>With these and similar foolish tales he entertained his +company, as the genius of nonsense dictated, making the most +ridiculous grimaces, rolling his eyes like a fakír in a fit +of devotion, and capering like one distracted, till the bowl, by a +sudden slip of his foot, fell from his shoulder on the pavement of +ruin, and was broken into a hundred pieces. At the same instant, +all that he had in the house, and whatever he had circulated in the +city, suddenly vanished;—the banquet of exultation was +quickly converted into mourning, and he who a little before danced +for joy now beat his breast for sorrow, blamed to no purpose the +rigour of his inauspicious fortune, and execrated the hour of his +birth. Thus a jewel fell into the hands of an unworthy person, who +was unacquainted with its value; and an inestimable gem was +entrusted to an indigent wretch, who, by his ignorance and +ostentation, converted it to his own destruction.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">“Melodious bulbul of the long-eared +race,” continued the elk, “as the wood-cutter’s +dancing was an unpardonable folly which met with the chastisement +it deserved, so I fearfully anticipate that your unseasonable +singing will become your exemplary punishment.”</p> +<p>His ass-ship listened thus far with reluctance to the admonition +of his friend, without intending to profit by it; but arose from +the carpet of spinach, eyed his companion with a mortifying glance +of <span class="pagenum"><a id="page157" name="page157"></a>[pg +157]</span>contempt, pricked up his long snaky ears, and began to +put himself into a musical posture. The nimble, small-hoofed elk, +perceiving this, said to himself: “Since he has stretched out +his neck and prepared his pitch-pipe, he will not remain long +without singing.” So he left the vegetable banquet, leaped +over the garden wall, and fled to a place of security. The ass was +no sooner alone than he commenced a most loud and horrible braying, +which instantly awoke the gardeners, who, with the noose of an +insidious halter, to the trunk of a tree fast bound the affrighted +musician, where they belaboured him with their cudgels till they +broke every bone in his body, and converted his skin to a book, in +which, in letters of gold, a múnshí [learned man] of +luminous pen, with the choicest flowers of the garden of rhetoric, +and for the benefit of the numerous fraternity of asses, inscribed +this instructive history.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Magical articles such as the wonderful wishing-bowl of our +unlucky friend the Faggot-maker figure very frequently in the +folk-tales of almost every country, assuming many different forms: +a table-cloth, a pair of saddle-bags, a purse, a flask, etc.; but +since a comprehensive account of those highly-gifted +objects—alas, that they should no longer exist!—is +furnished in the early chapters of my <i>Popular Tales and +Fictions</i>, I presume I need not go over the same wide field +again.—In the <i>Kathá Sarit Ságara</i> (Ocean +of the Streams of Story), a <span class="pagenum"><a id="page158" +name="page158"></a>[pg 158]</span>very large collection of tales +and apologues, composed, in Sanskrit, by Somadeva, in the 12th +century, after a much older work, the <i>Vrihat Kathá</i> +(or Great Story), the tale of the Faggot-maker occurs as a separate +recital. It is there an inexhaustible pitcher which he receives +from four yakshas—supernatural beings, who correspond to some +extent with the perís of Muslim mythology—and he is +duly warned that should it be broken it departs at once. For a time +he concealed the secret from his relations until one day, when he +was intoxicated, they asked him how it came about that he had given +up carrying burdens, and had abundance of all kinds of dainties, +eatable and drinkable. “He was too much puffed up with pride +to tell them plainly, but, taking the wish-granting pitcher on his +shoulder, he began to dance; and, as he was dancing, the +inexhaustible pitcher slipped from his shoulder, as his feet +tripped with over-abundance of intoxication, and, falling on the +ground, was broken in pieces. And immediately it was mended again, +and reverted to its original possessor; but Subadatta was reduced +to his former condition, and filled with despondency.” In a +note to this story, Mr. Tawney remarks that in Bartsch’s +Meklenburg Tales a man possesses himself of an inexhaustible +beer-can, but as soon as he tells how he got it the beer +disappears.—The story of the Foolish Thieves noisily +carousing in the house they had just plundered occurs also in +Saádí’s <i>Gulistán</i> and several +other Eastern story-books.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page159" name="page159"></a>[pg +159]</span>In Kádíri’s abridgment of the +Parrot-Book, the Elk is taken prisoner as well as his companion the +Ass, and the two subordinate stories, of the Foolish Thieves and of +the Faggot-maker, are omitted. They are also omitted in the version +of the Singing Ass found in the <i>Panchatantra</i> (B. v, F. 7), +where a jackal, not an elk, is the companion of the ass, and when +he perceives the latter about to “sing” he says: +“Let me get to the door of the garden, where I may see the +gardener as he approaches, and then sing away as long as you +please.” The gardener beats the ass till he is weary, and +then fastens a clog to the animal’s leg and ties him to a +post. After great exertion, the ass contrives to get free from the +post and hobbles away with the clog still on his leg. The jackal +meets his old comrade and exclaims: “Bravo, uncle! You would +sing your song, though I did all I could to dissuade you, and now +see what a fine ornament you have received as recompense for your +performance.” This form of the story reappears in the +<i>Tantrákhyána</i>, a collection of tales, in +Sanskrit, discovered by Prof. Cecil Bendall in 1884, of which he +has given an interesting account in the <i>Journal of the Royal +Asiatic Society</i>, vol. xx, pp. 465-501, including the original +text of a number of the stories.—In Ralston’s +<i>Tibetan Tales</i>, translated from Schiefner’s German +rendering of stories from the <i>Kah-gyur</i> (No. xxxii), the +story is also found, with a bull in place of a jackal. An ass meets +the bull one evening and <span class="pagenum"><a id="page160" +name="page160"></a>[pg 160]</span>proposes they should go together +and feast themselves to their hearts’ content in the +king’s bean-field, to which the bull replies: “O +nephew, as you are wont to let your voice resound, we should run +great risk.” Said the ass: “O uncle, let us go; I will +not raise my voice.” Having entered the bean-field together, +the ass uttered no sound until he had eaten his fill. Then quoth +he: “Uncle, shall I not sing a little?” The bull +responded: “Wait an instant until I have gone away, and then +do just as you please.” So the bull runs away, and the ass +lifts up his melodious voice, upon which the king’s servants +came and seized him, cut off his long ears, fastened a pestle on +his neck, and drove him out of the field.—There can be no +question, I think, as to the superiority, in point of humour, of +Nakhshabí’s version in <i>Tútí +Náma</i>, as given above.</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Parrot_4" name="Parrot_4"></a>IV</h3> +<p class="small cen">THE COVETOUS GOLDSMITH—THE KING WHO DIED +OF LOVE—THE DISCOVERY OF MUSIC—THE SEVEN REQUISITES OF +A PERFECT WOMAN.</p> +<p>To quit, for the present at least, the regions of fable and +magic, and return to tales of common life: the 30th recital in +Kádíri’s abridged text is of</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Goldsmith who lost his Life through his +Covetousness.</h4> +<p>A soldier finds a purse of gold on the highway, and entrusts it +to the keeping of a goldsmith (how frequently <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page161" name="page161"></a>[pg 161]</span>do +goldsmiths figure in these stories—and never to the credit of +the craft!), but when he comes to demand it back the other denies +all knowledge of it. The soldier cites him before the +kází, but he still persists in denying that he had +ever received any money from the complainant. The +kází was, however, convinced of the truth of the +soldier’s story, so he goes to the house of the goldsmith, +and privately causes two of his own attendants to be locked up in a +large chest that was in one of the rooms. He then confines the +goldsmith and his wife in the same room. During the night the +concealed men hear the goldsmith inform his wife where he had +hidden the soldier’s money; and next morning, when the +kází comes again and is told by his men what they had +heard the goldsmith say to his wife about the money, he causes +search to be made, and, finding it, hangs the goldsmith on the +spot.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Kázís are often represented in +Persian stories as being very shrewd and ingenious in convicting +the most expert rogues, but this device for discovering the +goldsmith’s criminality is certainly one of the cleverest +examples.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">On the 36th Night of MS. (26th of +Kádiri) the loquacious bird relates the story of</p> +<h4 class="tale">The King who died of Love for a Merchant’s +beautiful Daughter.</h4> +<p>A merchant had a daughter, the fame of whose beauty drew many +suitors for her hand, but he rejected <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page162" name="page162"></a>[pg 162]</span>them all; and when she +was of proper age he wrote a letter to the king, describing her +charms and accomplishments, and respectfully offering her to him in +marriage. The king, already in love with the damsel from this +account of her beauty, sends his four vazírs to the +merchant’s house to ascertain whether she was really as +charming as her father had represented her to be. They find that +she far surpassed the power of words to describe; but, considering +amongst themselves that should the king take this bewitching girl +to wife, he would become so entangled in the meshes of love as +totally to neglect the affairs of the state, they underrate her +beauty to the king, who then gives up all thought of her. But it +chanced one day that the king himself beheld the damsel on the +terrace of her house, and, perceiving that his vazírs had +deceived him, he sternly reprimanded them, at the same time +expressing his fixed resolution of marrying the girl. The +vazírs frankly confessed that their reason for +misrepresenting the merchant’s daughter to him was their fear +lest, possessing such a charming bride, he should forget his duty +to the state; upon which the king, struck with their anxiety for +his true interests, resolved to deny himself the happiness of +marrying the girl. But he could not suppress his affection for her: +he fell sick, and soon after died, the victim of love.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">This story forms the 17th of the Twenty-five +Tales of a Demon (<i>Vetála Panchavinsati</i>), according to +the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page163" name="page163"></a>[pg +163]</span>Sanskrit version found in the <i>Kathá Sarit +Ságara</i>; but its great antiquity is proved by the +circumstance that it is found in a Buddhistic work dating probably +200 years before our era—namely, Buddhaghosha’s +Parables. “Dying for love,” says Richardson, “is +considered amongst us as a mere poetical figure, and we can +certainly support the reality by few examples; but in Eastern +countries it seems to be something more, many words in the Arabic +and Persian languages which express love implying also melancholy; +madness, and death.” Shakspeare affirms that “men have +died, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.” There is, +however, one notable instance of this on record, in the story (as +related by Warton, in his <i>History of English Poetry</i>) of the +gallant troubadour Geoffrey Rudel, who died for love—and +love, too, from hearsay description of the beauty of the Countess +of Tripoli.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">On the 14th Night the Parrot entertains the +Lady with a very curious account of</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Discovery of Music.</h4> +<p>Some attribute, says the learned and eloquent feathered sage +(according to Gerrans), the discovery to the sounds made by a large +stone against the frame of an oil-press; and others to the noise of +meat when roasting; but the sages of Hind [India] are of opinion +that it originated from the following accident: As a learned +Bráhman was travelling to the court of an illustrious +rájá he rested about the <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page164" name="page164"></a>[pg 164]</span>middle of the day under +the shade of a mulberry tree, on the top of which he beheld a +mischievous monkey climbing from bough to bough, till, by a sudden +slip, he fell upon a sharp-pointed shoot, which instantly ripped up +his belly and left his entrails suspended in the tree, while the +unlucky animal fell, breathless, on the dust of death. Some time +after this, as the Bráhman was returning, he accidentally +sat down in the same place, and, recollecting the circumstance, +looked up, and saw that the entrails were dried, and yielded a +harmonious sound every time the wind gently impelled them against +the branches. Charmed at the singularity of the adventure, he took +them down, and after binding them to the two ends of his +walking-stick, touched them with a small twig, by which he +discovered that the sound was much improved. When he got home he +fastened the staff to another piece of wood, which was hollow, and +by the addition of a bow, strung with part of his own beard, +converted it to a complete instrument. In succeeding ages the +science received considerable improvements. After the addition of a +bridge, purer notes were extracted; and the different students, +pursuing the bent of their inclinations, constructed instruments of +various forms, according to their individual fancies; and to this +whimsical accident we are indebted for the tuneful ney and the +heart-exhilarating rabáb, and, in short, all the other +instruments of wind and strings.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page165" name="page165"></a>[pg +165]</span>Having thus discoursed upon the discovery of music, the +Parrot proceeds to detail</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Seven Requisites of a Perfect Woman.</h4> +<ol> +<li>She ought not to be always merry.</li> +<li>She ought not to be always sad.</li> +<li>She ought not to be always talking.</li> +<li>She ought not to be always thinking.</li> +<li>She ought not to be constantly dressing.</li> +<li>She ought not to be always unadorned.</li> +<li>She is a perfect woman who, at all times, possesses herself; +can be cheerful without levity, grave without austerity; knows when +to elevate the tongue of persuasion, and when to impress her lips +with the signet of silence; never converts trifling ceremonies into +intolerable burdens; always dresses becoming to her rank and age; +is modest without prudery, religious without an alloy of +superstition; can hear the one sex praised without envy, and +converse with the other without permitting the torch of inconstancy +to kindle the unhallowed fire in her breast; considers her husband +as the most accomplished of mortals, and thinks all the sons of +Adam besides unworthy of a transient glance from the corner of her +half-shut eyes.</li> +</ol> +<p>Such are the requisites of a perfect woman, and how thankful we +should be that we have so many in this highly-favoured land who +possess them all! These maxims are assuredly of Indian +origin—no Persian could ever have conceived such virtues as +being attainable by women.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page166" name="page166"></a>[pg +166]</span></p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Parrot_5" name="Parrot_5"></a>V</h3> +<p class="small cen">THE PRINCESS OF ROME AND HER SON—THE +KING AND HIS SEVEN VAZIRS.</p> +<p>The story told by the Parrot on the 50th Night is very singular, +and presents, no doubt, a faithful picture of Oriental manners and +customs. In the original text it is entitled</p> +<h4 class="tale">Story of the Daughter of the Kaysar of Rome, and +her trouble by reason of her Son.</h4> +<p>In former times there was a great king, whose army was numerous +and whose treasury was full to overflowing; but, having no enemy to +contend with, he neglected to pay his soldiers, in consequence of +which they were in a state of destitution and discontent. At length +one day the soldiers went to the prime vazír and made their +condition known to him. The vazír promised that he would +speedily devise a plan by which they should have employment and +money. Next morning he presented himself before the king, and said +that it was widely reported that the kaysar of Rome had a daughter +unsurpassed for beauty—one who was fit only for such a great +monarch as his Majesty—and suggested that it would be +advantageous if an alliance were formed between two such +potentates. The notion pleased the king well, and he forthwith +despatched to Rome an ambassador with rich gifts, and requested the +kaysar to grant him his daughter in marriage. But the <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page167" name="page167"></a>[pg 167]</span>kaysar +waxed wroth at this, and refused to give his daughter to the king. +When the ambassador returned thus unsuccessful, the king, enraged +at being made of no account, resolved to make war upon the kaysar, +and, opening the doors of his treasury, he distributed much money +among his troops, and then, “with a woe-bringing lust, and a +blood-drinking army, he trampled Rome and the Romans in the +dust.” And when the kaysar was become powerless, he sent his +daughter to the king, who married her according to the law of +Islám.</p> +<p>Now that princess had a son by a former husband, and the kaysar +had said to her before she departed: “Beware that thou +mention not thy son, for my love for his society is great, and I +cannot part with him.” But the princess was sick at heart for +the absence of her son, and she was ever pondering how she should +speak to the king about him, and in what manner she might contrive +to bring him to her. It happened one day the king gave her a string +of pearls and a casket of jewels. She said: “With my father +is a slave well skilled in the science of jewels.” The king +replied: “If I should ask that slave of thy father, would he +give him to me?” “Nay,” said she; “for he +holds him in the place of a son. But, if the king desire him, I +will send a merchant to Rome, and I myself will give him a token, +and with pleasant wiles and fair speeches will bring him +hither.” Then the king sent for a clever merchant who knew +Arabic eloquently and the language of Rome, and gave him goods for +trading, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page168" name= +"page168"></a>[pg 168]</span>and sent him to Rome with the object +of procuring that slave. But the daughter of the kaysar said +privately to the merchant: “That slave is my son; I have, for +a good reason, said to the king that he is a slave; so thou must +bring him as a slave, and let it be thy duty to take care of +him.” In due course the merchant brought the youth to the +king’s service; and when the king saw his fair face, and +discovered in him many pleasing and varied accomplishments, he +treated him with distinction and favour, and conferred on the +merchant a robe of honour and gifts. His mother saw him from afar, +and was pleased with receiving a salutation from him.</p> +<p>One day (the text proceeds) the king had gone to the chase, and +the palace remained void of rivals; so the mother called in her +son, kissed his fair face, and told him the tale of her great +sorrow. A chamberlain became aware of the secret, and another +suspicion fell upon him, and he said to himself: “The harem +of the king is the sanctuary of security and the palace of +protection. If I speak not of this, I shall be guilty of treachery, +and shall have wrought unfaithfulness.” When the king +returned from the chase, the chamberlain related to him what he had +seen, and the king was angry and said: “This woman has +deceived me with words and deeds, and has brought hither her desire +by craft and cunning. This conjecture must be true, else why did +she play such a trick, and why did she hatch such a plot, and why +did she send the merchant?” The king, enraged, went into the +harem. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page169" name="page169"></a>[pg +169]</span>The queen saw from his countenance that the occurrence +of the night before had become known to him, and she said: +“Be it not that I see the king angry.” He said: +“How should I not be angry? Thou, by craft, and trickery, and +intrigue, and plotting, hast brought thy desire from +Rome—what wantonness is this that thou hast done?” Then +he thought to slay her, but he forbore, because of his great love +for her. But he ordered the chamberlain to carry the youth to some +obscure place, and straightway sever his head from his body. When +the poor mother saw this she well-nigh fell on her face, and her +soul was near leaving her body. But she knew that sorrow would not +avail, and she restrained herself.</p> +<p>And when the chamberlain took the youth into his own house, he +said to him: “O youth, know you not that the harem of the +king is the sanctuary of security? What great treachery is this +that thou hast perpetrated?” The youth replied: “That +queen is my mother, and I am her true son. Because of her natural +delicacy, she said not to the king that she had a son by another +husband. And when yearning came over her, she contrived to bring me +here from Rome; and while the king was engaged in the chase +maternal love stirred, and she called me to her and embraced +me.” On hearing this, the chamberlain said to himself: +“What is passing in his mother’s breast? What I have +not done I can yet do, and it were better that I preserve this +youth some days, for such a rose may not be wounded through idle +words, and such a <span class="pagenum"><a id="page170" name= +"page170"></a>[pg 170]</span>bough may not be broken by a single +breath. For some day the truth of this matter will be disclosed, +and it will become known to the king, when repentance may be of no +avail.” Another day he went before the king, and said: +“That which was commanded have I fulfilled.” On hearing +this the king’s wrath was to some extent removed, but his +trust in the kaysar’s daughter was departed; while she, poor +creature, was grieved and dazed at the loss of her son.</p> +<p>Now in the palace harem there was an old woman, who said to the +queen: “How is it that I find thee sorrowful?” And the +queen told the whole story, concealing nothing. The old woman was a +heroine in the field of craft, and she answered: “Keep thy +mind at ease: I will devise a stratagem by which the heart of the +king will be pleased with thee, and every grief he has will vanish +from his heart.” The queen said, that if she did so she +should be amply rewarded. One day the old woman, seeing the king +alone, said to him: “Why is thy former aspect altered, and +why are traces of care and anxiety visible on thy +countenance?” The king then told her all. The old woman said: +“I have an amulet of the charms of Solomon, in the Syriac +language, in the the writing of the jinn [genii]. When the queen is +asleep do thou place it on her breast, and, whatever it may be, she +will tell all the truth of it. But take care, fall thou not asleep, +but listen well to what she says.” The king wondered at this, +and said: “Give me that amulet, that the truth of this matter +may be learned.” So the old woman gave him <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page171" name="page171"></a>[pg 171]</span>the +amulet, and then went to the queen and explained what she had done, +and said: “Do thou feign to be asleep, and relate the whole +of the story faithfully.”</p> +<p>When a watch of the night was past, the king laid the amulet +upon his wife’s breast, and she thus began: “By a +former husband I had a son, and when my father gave me to this +king, I was ashamed to say I had a tall son. When my yearning +passed all bounds, I brought him here by an artifice. One day that +the king was gone to the chase, I called him into the house, when, +after the way of mothers, I took him in my arms and kissed him. +This reached the king’s ears, and he unwittingly gave it +another construction, and cut off the head of that innocent boy, +and withdrew from me his own heart. Alike is my son lost to me and +the king angry.” When the king heard these words he kissed +her and exclaimed: “O my life, what an error is this thou +hast committed? Thou hast brought calumny upon thyself, and hast +given such a son to the winds, and hast made me ashamed!” +Straightway he called the chamberlain and said: “That boy +whom thou hast killed is the son of my beloved and the darling of +my beauty! Where is his grave, that we may make there a +guest-house?” The chamberlain said: “That youth is yet +alive. When the king commanded his death I was about to kill him, +but he said: ‘That queen is my mother; through modesty before +the king she revealed not the secret that she had a tall son. Kill +me not; it may be that some day the <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page172" name="page172"></a>[pg 172]</span>truth will become +known, and repentance profits not, and regret is +useless.’” The king commanded them to bring the youth, +so they brought him straightway. And when the mother saw the face +of her son, she thanked God and praised the Most High, and became +one of the Muslims, and from the sect of unbelievers came into the +faith of Islám. And the king favoured the chamberlain in the +highest degree, and they passed the rest of their lives in comfort +and ease.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">This tale is also found in the Persian +<i>Bakhtyár Náma</i> (or the Ten Vazírs), the +precise date of which has not been ascertained, but a MS. +Túrkí (Uygúr) version of it, preserved in the +Bodleian Library, Oxford, bears to have been written in 1434; the +Persian text must therefore have been composed before that date. In +the text translated by Sir William Ouseley, in place of the +daughter of the kaysar of Rome it is the daughter of the king of +Irák whom the king of Abyssinia marries, after subduing the +power of her father; and, so far from a present of jewels to her +being the occasion of her mentioning her son, in the condition of a +slave, it is said that one day the king behaved harshly to her, and +spoke disrespectfully of her father, upon which she boasted that +her father had in his service a youth of great beauty and possessed +of every accomplishment, which excited the king’s desire to +have him brought to his court; and the merchant <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page173" name="page173"></a>[pg +173]</span>smuggled the youth out of the country of Irák +concealed in a chest, placed on the back of a camel. In +Lescallier’s French translation it is said that the youth was +the fruit of a <em>liaison</em> of the princess, unknown to her +father; that his education was secretly entrusted to certain +servants; and that the princess afterwards contrived to introduce +the boy to her father, who was so charmed with his beauty, grace of +manner, and accomplishments, that he at once took him into his +service. Thus widely do manuscripts of the same Eastern work +vary!</p> +<h4 class="tale">The King and his Seven Vazírs.</h4> +<p>On the Eighth Night the Parrot relates, in a very abridged form, +the story of the prince who was falsely accused by one of his +father’s women of having made love to her, and who was saved +by the tales which the royal counsellors related to the king in +turn during seven consecutive days. The original of this romance is +the <i>Book of Sindibád</i>, so named after the +prince’s tutor, Sindibád the sage: the Arabic version +is known under the title of the <i>Seven Vazírs</i>; the +Hebrew, <i>Mishlé Sandabar</i>; the Greek, <i>Syntipas</i>; +and the Syriac, <i>Sindbán</i>; and its European +modifications, the <i>Seven Wise Masters</i>. In the Parrot-Book +the first to the sixth vazírs each relate one story only, +and the damsel has no stories (all other Eastern versions give two +to each of the seven, and six to the queen); the seventh +vazír simply appears on the seventh day and makes clear the +innocence <span class="pagenum"><a id="page174" name= +"page174"></a>[pg 174]</span>of the prince. This version, however, +though imperfect, is yet of some value in making a comparative +study of the several texts.</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Parrot_6" name="Parrot_6"></a>VI</h3> +<p class="small cen">THE TREE OF LIFE—LEGEND OF +RÁJÁ RASÁLÚ—CONCLUSION.</p> +<p>Many others of the Parrot’s stories might be cited, but we +shall merely glance at one more, as it calls up a very ancient and +wide-spread legend:</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Tree of Life.</h4> +<p>A prince, who is very ill, sends a parrot of great sagacity to +procure him some of the fruit of the Tree of Life. When at length +the parrot returns with the life-giving fruit, the prince scruples +to eat it, upon which the wise bird relates the legend of Solomon +and the Water of Immortality: how that monarch declined to purchase +immunity from death on consideration that he should survive all his +friends and female favourites. The prince, however, having +suspicions regarding the genuineness of the fruit, sends some +trusty messengers to “bring the first apple that fell from +the Tree of Existence.” But it happened that a black serpent +had poisoned it by seizing it in his mouth and then letting it drop +again. When the messengers return with the fruit, the prince tries +its effect on an old <em>pír</em> (holy man), who at once +falls down dead. Upon seeing this the prince doomed the parrot to +death, but the sagacious bird suggested that, <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page175" name="page175"></a>[pg 175]</span>before +the prince should execute him for treason, he should himself go to +the Tree of Life, and make another experiment with its fruit. He +does so, and on returning home gives part of the fruit to an old +woman, “who, from age and infirmity had not stirred abroad +for many years,” and she had no sooner tasted it than she was +changed into a blooming beauty of eighteen!—Happy, happy old +woman!</p> +<p class="spacedTop">A different version of the legend occurs in a +Canarese collection, entitled <i>Kathá Manjarí</i>, +which is worthy of reproduction, since it may possibly be an +earlier form than that in the Persian Parrot-Book: A certain king +had a magpie that flew one day to heaven with another magpie. When +it was there it took away some mango-seed, and, having returned, +gave it into the hands of the king, saying: “If you cause +this to be planted and grow, whoever eats of its fruit old age will +forsake him and youth return.” The king was much pleased, and +caused it to be sown in his favourite garden, and carefully watched +it. After some time, buds having shown themselves in it became +flowers, then young fruit, then it was grown; and when it was full +of ripe fruit, the king ordered it to be cut and brought, and that +he might test it gave it to an old man. But on that fruit there had +fallen poison from a serpent, as it was carried through the air by +a kite, therefore he immediately withered and died. The king, +having seen this, was much afraid, and exclaimed: “Is not +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page176" name="page176"></a>[pg +176]</span>this bird attempting to kill me?” Having said +this, with anger he seized the magpie, and swung it round and +killed it. Afterwards in that village the tree had the name of the +Poisonous Mango. While things were thus, a washerman, taking the +part of his wife in a quarrel with his aged mother, struck the +latter, who was so angry at her son that she resolved to die [in +order that the blame of her death should fall on him]; and having +gone to the poisonous mango-tree in the garden, she cut off a fruit +and ate it; and immediately she was more blooming than a girl of +sixteen. This wonder she published everywhere. The king became +acquainted with it, and having called her and seen her, caused the +fruit to be given to other old people. Having seen what was thus +done by the wonderful virtue of the mango, the king exclaimed: +“Alas! is the affectionate magpie killed which gave me this +divine tree? How guilty am I!” and he pierced himself with +his sword and died. Therefore (moralises the story-teller) those +who do anything without thought are easily ruined.<a href="#fn_52" +id="fnm_52" name="fnm_52"><sup>52</sup></a></p> +<p>The incident of fruit or food being poisoned by a serpent is of +frequent occurrence in Eastern stories; thus, in the <i>Book of +Sindibád</i> a man sends his slave-girl <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page177" name="page177"></a>[pg 177]</span>to +fetch milk, with which to feast some guests. As she was returning +with it in an open vessel a stork flew over her, carrying a snake +in its beak; the snake dropped some of its poison into the milk, +and all the guests who partook of it immediately fell down and +died.—The Water of Life and the Tree of Life are the subjects +of many European as well as Asiatic folk-tales. Muslims have a +tradition that Alexander the Great despatched the prophet Al-Khizar +(who is often confounded with Moses and Elias in legends) to +procure him some of the Water of Life. The prophet, after a long +and perilous journey, at length reached this Spring of Everlasting +Youth, and, having taken a hearty draught of its waters, the stream +suddenly disappeared—and has, we may suppose, never been +rediscovered. Al-Khizar, they say, still lives, and occasionally +appears to persons whom he desires especially to favour, and always +clothed in a green robe, the emblem of perennial youth. In Arabic, +Khizar signifies <em>green</em>.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">The faithful and sagacious Parrot having +entertained the lady during fifty-two successive nights, and +thereby prevented her from prosecuting her intended intrigue, on +the following day the merchant returned, and, missing the sharak +from the cage, inquired its fate of the Parrot, who straight-way +acquainted him of all that had taken place in his absence, and, +according to Kádiri’s abridged text, he put his wife +to death, which was certainly very <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page178" name="page178"></a>[pg 178]</span>unjust, since the +lady’s offence was only in <em>design</em>, not in +<em>fact</em>.<a href="#fn_53" id="fnm_53" name= +"fnm_53"><sup>53</sup></a></p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>It will be observed that the frame of the <i>Tútí +Náma</i> somewhat resembles the story, in the <i>Arabian +Nights</i>, of the Merchant, his Wife, and the Parrot, which +properly belongs to, and occurs in, all the versions of the <i>Book +of Sindibád</i>, and also in the <i>Seven Wise Masters</i>; +in the latter a magpie takes the place of the parrot. In my +<i>Popular Tales and Fictions</i> I have pointed out the close +analogy which the frame of the Parrot-Book bears to a +Panjábí legend of the renowned hero +Rájá Rasálú. In the +<i>Tútí Náma</i> the merchant leaves a parrot +and a sharak to watch over his wife’s conduct in his absence, +charging her to obtain their consent before she enters upon any +undertaking of moment; and on her consulting the sharak as to the +propriety of her assignation with the young prince, the bird +refuses consent, whereupon the enraged dame kills it on the spot; +but the parrot, by pursuing a middle course, saves his life and his +master’s honour. In the Panjábí legend +Rájá Rasálú, who was very frequently +from home on hunting excursions, left behind him a parrot and a +maina (hill starling), to act as spies upon his young wife, the +Rání Kokla. One day while Rasálú was +from home she was visited by the <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page179" name="page179"></a>[pg 179]</span>handsome +Rájá Hodí, who climbed to her balcony by a +rope (this incident is the subject of many paintings in fresco on +the panels of palaces and temples in India), when the maina +exclaimed, “What wickedness is this?” upon which the +rájá went to the cage, took out the maina, and dashed +it to the ground, so that it died. But the parrot, taking warning, +said, “The steed of Rasálú is swift, what if he +should surprise you? Let me out of my cage, and I will fly over the +palace, and will inform you the instant he appears in sight”; +and so she released the parrot. In the sequel, the parrot betrays +the rání, and Rasálú kills +Rájá Hodí and causes his heart to be served to +the rání for supper.<a href="#fn_54" id="fnm_54" +name="fnm_54"><sup>54</sup></a></p> +<p class="spacedTop">The parrot is a very favourite character in +Indian fictions, a circumstance originating, very possibly, in the +Hindú belief in metempsychosis, or transmigration of souls +after death into other animal forms, and also from the remarkable +facility with which that bird imitates the human voice. In the +<i>Kathá Sarit Ságara</i> stories of wise parrots are +of frequent occurrence; sometimes they figure as mere birds, but at +other times as men who had been re-born in that form. In the third +of the Twenty-Five Tales of a Demon (Sanskrit version), a king has +a parrot, “possessed of god-like intellect, knowing all the +<em>shastras</em>, having been born in that condition <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page180" name="page180"></a>[pg 180]</span>owing +to a curse”; and his queen has a hen-maina “remarkable +for knowledge.” They are placed in the same cage; and +“one day the parrot became enamoured of the maina, and said +to her: ‘Marry me, fair one, as we sleep, perch, and feed in +the same cage.’ But the maina answered him: ‘I do not +desire intimate union with a male, for all males are wicked and +ungrateful.’ The parrot answered: ‘It is not true that +males are wicked, but females are wicked and cruel-hearted.’ +And so a dispute arose between them. The two birds then made a +bargain that, if the parrot won, he should have the maina for wife, +and if the maina won, the parrot should be her slave, and they came +before the prince to get a true judgment.” Each relates a +story—the one to show that men are all wicked and ungrateful, +the other, that women are wicked and cruel-hearted.</p> +<p>It must be confessed that the frame of the <i>Tútí +Náma</i> is of a very flimsy description: nothing could be +more absurd, surely, than to represent the lady as decorating +herself fifty-two nights in succession in order to have an +interview with a young prince, and being detained each night by the +Parrot’s tales, which, moreover, have none of them the least +bearing upon the condition and purpose of the lady; unlike the +Telúgú story-book, having a somewhat similar frame +(see <i>ante</i>, p. <a href="#page127">127</a>, <a href= +"#fn_43"><i>note 43</i></a>), in which the tales related by the +bird are about chaste wives. But the frames of all Eastern +story-books are more or <span class="pagenum"><a id="page181" name= +"page181"></a>[pg 181]</span>less slight and of small account. The +value of the <i>Tútí Náma</i> consists in the +aid which the subordinate tales furnish in tracing the genealogy of +popular fictions, and in this respect the importance of the work +can hardly be over-rated.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<h3 class="note">ADDITIONAL NOTE.</h3> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Parrot_N" name="Parrot_N"></a>THE MAGIC +BOWL, pp. <a href="#page152">152</a>-<a href="#page156">156</a>; +<a href="#page157">157</a>, <a href="#page158">158</a>.</h4> +<p>In our tale of the Faggot-maker, the fairies warn him to guard +the Magic Bowl with the utmost care, “for it will break by +the most trifling blow,” and he is to use it only when +absolutely necessary; and in the notes of variants appended, +reference is made (p. 158) to a Meklenburg story where the beer in +an inexhaustible can disappears the moment its possessor reveals +the secret. The gifts made by fairies and other superhuman beings +have indeed generally some condition attached (most commonly, +perhaps, that they are not to be examined until the recipients have +reached home), as is shown pretty conclusively by my friend Mr. E. +Sidney Hartland in a most interesting paper on “Fairy Births +and Human Midwives,” which enriches the pages of the +<i>Archæological Review</i> for December, 1889, and at the +close of which he cites, from Poestion’s +<i>Lappländische Märchen</i>, p. 119, a curious example, +which may be fairly regarded as an analogue of the tale of the Poor +Faggot-maker—“far cry” though it be from India to +Swedish Lappmark:</p> +<p>“A peasant who had one day been unlucky at the chase was +returning disgusted, when he met a fine gentleman, who begged him +to come and cure his wife. The peasant protested in vain that he +was no doctor. The other would take no denial, insisting that it +was no matter, for if he would only put his hands on the lady she +would be healed. Accordingly, the stranger led him to the very top +of a mountain where was perched a castle he had never seen before. +On entering, he found the walls were mirrors, the roof overhead of +silver, the carpets of gold-embroidered silk, and the furniture of +the purest gold and jewels. The stranger took him into a room where +lay the loveliest of princesses on a golden bed, screaming with +pain. As soon as she saw the peasant, she begged him to come and +put his hands upon her. Almost stupified with <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page182" name="page182"></a>[pg +182]</span>astonishment, he hesitated to lay his coarse hands upon +so fair a dame. But at length he yielded, and in a moment her pain +ceased, and she was made whole. She stood up and thanked him, +begging him to tarry awhile and eat with them. This, however, he +declined to do, for he feared that if he tasted the food which was +offered him he must remain there.</p> +<p>“The stranger whom he had followed then took a leathern +purse, filled it with small round pieces of wood, and gave it to +the peasant with these words: ‘So long as thou art in +possession of this purse, money will never fail thee. But if thou +shouldst ever see me again, beware of speaking to me; for if thou +speak thy luck will depart.’ When the man got home he found +the purse filled with dollars; and by virtue of its magical +property he became the richest man in the parish. As soon as he +found the purse always full, whatever he took out of it, he began +to live in a spendthrift manner, and frequented the alehouse. One +evening as he sat there he beheld the stranger, with a bottle in +his hand, going round and gathering the drops which the guests +shook from time to time out of their glasses. The rich peasant was +surprised that one who had given him so much did not seem able to +buy himself a single dram, but was reduced to this means of getting +a drink. Thereupon he went up to him and said: ‘Thou hast +shown me more kindness than any other man ever did, and willingly I +will treat thee to a little.’ The words were scarce out of +his mouth when he received such a blow on his head that he fell +stunned to the ground; and when again he came to himself the +stranger and his purse were both gone. From that day forward he +became poorer and poorer, until he was reduced to absolute +beggary.”</p> +<p>Among other examples adduced by Mr. Hartland is a Bohemian +legend in which “the Frau von Hahnen receives for her +services to a water-nix three pieces of gold, with the injunction +to take care of them, and never to let them go out of the hands of +her own lineage, else the whole family would fall into poverty. She +bequeathed the treasures to her three sons; but the youngest son +took a wife who with a light heart gave the fairy gold away. +Misery, of course, resulted from her folly, and the race of Hahnen +speedily came to an end.”—But those who are interested +in the study of comparative folk-lore would do well to read for +themselves the whole paper, which is assuredly by far the most (if +not indeed the only) comprehensive attempt that has yet been made +in our language to treat scientifically the subject of fairy gifts +to human beings.</p> +<h2 class="spacedTop"><a id="Rabbi" name="Rabbi"></a>RABBINICAL +LEGENDS, TALES, FABLES, AND APHORISMS.</h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page185" name="page185"></a>[pg +185]</span></p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Rabbi_1" name="Rabbi_1"></a>I</h3> +<p class="small cen">INTRODUCTORY.</p> +<p>In the Talmud are embodied those rules and +institutions—interpretations of the civil and canonical laws +contained in the Old Testament—which were transmitted orally +to succeeding generations of the Jewish priesthood until the +general dispersion of the Hebrew race. According to the Rabbis, +Moses received the oral as well as the written law at Mount Sinai, +and it was by him communicated to Joshua, from whom it was +transmitted through forty successive Receivers. So long as the +Temple stood, it was deemed not only unnecessary, but absolutely +unlawful, to commit these ancient and carefully-preserved +traditions to writing; but after the second destruction of +Jerusalem, under Hadrian, when the Jewish people were scattered +over the world, the system of oral transmission of these traditions +from generation to generation became impracticable, and, to prevent +their being lost, they were formed into a permanent record about +<span class="small">A.D.</span> 190, <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page186" name="page186"></a>[pg 186]</span>by Rabbi Jehudah the +Holy, who called his work <i>Mishna</i>, or the Secondary Laws. +About a hundred years later a commentary on it was written by Rabbi +Jochonan, called <i>Gemara</i>, or the Completion, and these two +works joined together are known as the (Jerusalem) <i>Talmud</i>, +or Directory. But this commentary being written in an obscure +style, and omitting many traditions known farther east, another was +begun by Rabbi Asche, who died <span class="small">A.D.</span> 427, +and completed by his disciples and followers about the year 500, +which together with the Mishna formed the Babylonian Talmud. Both +versions were first printed at Venice in the 16th century—the +Jerusalem Talmud, in one folio volume, about the year 1523; and the +Babylonian Talmud, in twelve folio volumes, 1520-30. In the 12th +century Moses Maimonides, a Spanish Rabbi, made an epitome, or +digest, of all the laws and institutions of the Talmud. Such, in +brief, is the origin and history of this famed compilation, which +has been aptly described as an extraordinary monument of human +industry, human wisdom, and human folly.</p> +<p>By far the greater portion of the Talmud is devoted to the +ceremonial law, as preserved by oral tradition in the manner above +explained; but it also comprises innumerable sayings or aphorisms +of celebrated Rabbis, together with narratives of the most varied +character—legends regarding Biblical personages, moral tales, +fables, parables, and facetious stories. Of the rabbinical legends, +many are extremely <span class="pagenum"><a id="page187" name= +"page187"></a>[pg 187]</span>puerile and absurd, and may rank with +the extravagant and incredible monkish legends of mediæval +times; some, however, are characterised by a richness of humour +which one would hardly expect to meet with in such a work; while +not a few of the parables, fables, and tales are strikingly +beautiful, and will favourably compare with the same class of +fictions composed by the ancient sages of +Hindústán.</p> +<p>It is a singular circumstance, and significant as well as +singular, that while the Hebrew Talmud was, as Dr. Barclay remarks, +“periodically banned and often publicly burned, from the age +of the Emperor Justinian till the time of Pope Clement VIII,” +several of the best stories in the <i>Gesta Romanorum</i>, a +collection of moral tales (or tales “moralised”) which +were read in Christian churches throughout Europe during the Middle +Ages, are derived mediately or immediately from this great +storehouse of rabbinical learning.<a href="#fn_55" id="fnm_55" +name="fnm_55"><sup>55</sup></a></p> +<p>The traducers of the Talmud, among other false assertions, have +represented the Rabbis as holding their own work as more important +than even the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page188" name= +"page188"></a>[pg 188]</span>Old Testament itself, and as fostering +among the Jewish people a spirit of intolerance towards all persons +outside the pale of the Hebrew religion. In proof of the first +assertion they cite the following passage from the Talmud: +“The Bible is like water, the Mishna, like wine, the Gemara, +spiced wine; the Law, like salt, the Mishna, pepper, the Gemara, +balmy spice.” But surely only a very shallow mind could +conceive from these similitudes that the Rabbis rated the +importance of the Bible as less than that of the Talmud; yet an +English Church clergyman, in an article published in a popular +periodical a few years since, reproduced this passage in proof of +rabbinical presumption—evidently in ignorance of the peculiar +style of Oriental metaphor. What is actually taught by the Rabbis +in the passage in question, regarding the comparative merits of the +Bible and the Talmud, is this: The Bible is like water, the Law is +like salt; now, water and salt are indispensable to mankind. The +Mishna is like wine and pepper—luxuries, not necessaries of +life; while the Gemara is like spiced wine and balmy +spices—still more refined luxuries, but not necessaries, like +water and salt.</p> +<p>With regard to the accusation of intolerance brought against the +Rabbis, it is worse than a misconception of words or phrases; it is +a gross calumny, the more reprehensible if preferred by those who +are acquainted with the teachings of the Talmud, since they are +thus guilty of wilfully suppressing the truth. In the <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page189" name="page189"></a>[pg +189]</span>following passages a broad, humane spirit of toleration +is clearly inculcated:</p> +<p>“It is our duty to maintain the heathen poor along with +those of our own nation.”</p> +<p>“We must visit their sick, and administer to their relief, +bury their dead,” and so forth.</p> +<p>“The heathens that dwell out of the land of Israel ought +not to be considered as idolators, since they only follow the +customs of their fathers.”</p> +<p>“The pious men of the heathen will have their portion in +the next world.”</p> +<p>“It is unlawful to deceive or over-reach any one, not even +a heathen.”</p> +<p>“Be circumspect in the fear of the Lord, soft in speech, +slow in wrath, kind and friendly to all, even to the +heathen.”</p> +<p>Alluding to the laws inimical to the heathen, Rabbi Mosha says: +“What wise men have said in this respect was directed against +the ancient idolators, who believed neither in a creation nor in a +deliverance from Egypt; but the nations among whom we live, whose +protection we enjoy, must not be considered in this light, since +they believe in a creation, the divine origin of the law, and many +other fundamental doctrines of our religion. It is, therefore, not +only our duty to shelter them against actual danger, but to pray +for their welfare and the prosperity of their respective +governments.”<a href="#fn_56" id="fnm_56" name= +"fnm_56"><sup>56</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page190" name="page190"></a>[pg +190]</span>Let the impartial reader compare these teachings of the +Rabbis with the intolerant doctrines and practices of Christian +pastors, even in modern times as well as during the Middle Ages: +when they taught that out of the pale of the Church there could be +no salvation; that no faith should be kept with heretics, or +infidels: when Catholics persecuted Protestants, and Protestants +retaliated upon Catholics:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Christians have burned each other, quite persuaded</p> +<p>That all the Apostles would have done as they did!</p> +</div> +<p>It will probably occur to most readers, in connection with the +rabbinical doctrine, that it is unlawful to over-reach any one, +that the Jews appear to have long ignored such maxims of morality. +But it should be remembered that if they have earned for +themselves, by their chicanery in mercantile transactions, an evil +reputation, their ancestors in the bad old times were goaded into +the practice of over-reaching by cunning those Christian sovereigns +and nobles who robbed them of their property by force and cruel +tortures. Moreover, where are the people to be found whose daily +actions are in accordance with the religion they profess? At least, +the Rabbis, unlike the spiritual teachers of mediæval Europe, +did not openly inculcate immoral doctrines.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page191" name="page191"></a>[pg +191]</span></p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Rabbi_2" name="Rabbi_2"></a>II</h3> +<p class="small cen">LEGENDS OF SOME BIBLICAL CHARACTERS.</p> +<p>There is, no doubt, very much in the Talmud that possesses a +recondite, spiritual meaning; but it would likely puzzle the most +ingenious and learned modern Rabbis to construe into mystical +allegories such absurd legends regarding Biblical personages as the +following:</p> +<h4 class="tale">Adam and Eve.</h4> +<p>Adam’s body, according to the Jewish Fathers, was formed +of the earth of Babylon, his head of the land of Israel, and his +other members of other parts of the world. Originally his stature +reached the firmament, but after his fall the Creator, laying his +hand upon him, lessened him very considerably.<a href="#fn_57" id= +"fnm_57" name="fnm_57"><sup>57</sup></a> Mr Hershon, in his +<i>Talmudic Miscellany</i>, says there is a notion among the Rabbis +that Adam was at first possessed of a bi-sexual organisation, and +this conclusion they draw from Genesis i, 27, where it is said: +“God created man in his own image, male-female <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page192" name="page192"></a>[pg 192]</span>created +he him.”<a href="#fn_58" id="fnm_58" name= +"fnm_58"><sup>58</sup></a> These two natures it was thought lay +side by side; according to some, the male on the right and the +female on the left; according to others, back to back; while there +were those who maintained that Adam was created with a +<em>tail</em>, and that it was from this appendage that Eve was +fashioned!<a href="#fn_59" id="fnm_59" name= +"fnm_59"><sup>59</sup></a> Other Jewish traditions (continues Mr. +Hershon) inform us that Eve was made from the thirteenth rib of the +right side, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page193" name= +"page193"></a>[pg 193]</span>and that she was not drawn out by the +head, lest she should be vain; nor by the eyes, lest she should be +wanton; nor by the mouth, lest she should be given to garrulity; +nor by the ears, lest she should be an eavesdropper; nor by the +hands, lest she should be intermeddling; nor by the feet, lest she +should be a gadder; nor by the heart, lest she should be +jealous;—but she was taken out from the side: yet, in spite +of all these precautions, she had every one of the faults so +carefully guarded against!</p> +<p>Adam’s excuse for eating of the forbidden fruit, +“She gave me of the tree and I did eat,” is said to be +thus ingeniously explained by the learned Rabbis: By giving him of +the <em>tree</em> is meant that Eve took a stout crab-tree cudgel, +and gave her husband (in plain English) a sound rib-roasting, until +he complied with her will!—The lifetime of Adam, according to +the Book of Genesis, ch. v, 5, was nine hundred and thirty years, +for which the following legend (reproduced by the Muslim +traditionists) satisfactorily accounts: The Lord showed to Adam +every future generation, with their heads, sages, and +scribes.<a href="#fn_60" id="fnm_60" name= +"fnm_60"><sup>60</sup></a> He saw that David was destined to live +only three hours, and said: “Lord and Creator of the world, +is this unalterably fixed?” The Lord answered: “It was +my original design.” “How many years shall I +live?” “One thousand.” “Are grants known in +heaven?” “Certainly.” “I grant then +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page194" name="page194"></a>[pg +194]</span>seventy years of my life to David.” What did Adam +therefore do? He gave a written grant, set his seal to it, and the +same was done by the Lord and Metatron.</p> +<p>The body of Adam was taken into the ark by Noah, and when at +last it grounded on the summit of Mount Ararat [which it certainly +never did!], Noah and his three sons removed the body, “and +they followed an angel, who led them to a place where the First +Father was to lie. Shem (or Melchizidek, for they are one), being +consecrated by God to the priesthood, performed the religious +rites, and buried Adam at the centre of the earth, which is +Jerusalem. But some say he was buried by Shem, along with Eve in +the cave of Machpelah in Hebron; others relate that Noah on leaving +the ark distributed the bones of Adam among his sons, and that he +gave the head to Shem, who buried it in Jerusalem.”<a href= +"#fn_61" id="fnm_61" name="fnm_61"><sup>61</sup></a></p> +<h4 class="tale">Cain and Abel.</h4> +<p>The Hebrew commentators are not agreed regarding the cause of +Cain’s enmity towards his brother Abel. According to one +tradition, Cain and Abel divided the whole world between them, one +taking the moveable and the other the immoveable possessions. One +day Cain said to his brother: “The earth on which thou +standest is mine; therefore betake thyself to the air.” Abel +rejoined: “The garment which <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page195" name="page195"></a>[pg 195]</span>thou dost wear is mine; +therefore take it off.” From this there arose a conflict +between them, which resulted in Abel’s death. Rabbi Huna +teaches, however, that they contended for a twin sister of Abel; +the latter claimed her because she was born along with him, while +Cain pleaded his right of primogeniture. After Adam’s +first-born had taken his brother’s life, the sheep-dog of +Abel faithfully guarded his master’s corpse from the attacks +of beasts and birds of prey. Adam and Eve also sat near the body of +their pious son, weeping bitterly, and not knowing how to dispose +of his lifeless clay. At length a raven, whose mate had lately +died, said to itself: “I will go and show to Adam what he +must do with his son’s body,” and accordingly scooped a +hole in the ground and laid the dead raven therein, and covered it +with earth. This having been observed by Adam, he likewise buried +the body of Abel. For this service rendered to our great +progenitor, we are told, the Deity rewarded the raven, and no one +is allowed to injure its young: “they have food in abundance, +and their cry for rain is always heard.”<a href="#fn_62" id= +"fnm_62" name="fnm_62"><sup>62</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page196" name="page196"></a>[pg +196]</span></p> +<h4 class="tale">The Planting of the Vine.</h4> +<p>When Noah planted the vine, say the Rabbis, Satan slew a sheep, +a lion, an ape, and a sow, and buried the carcases under it; and +hence the four stages from sobriety to absolute drunkenness: Before +a man begins to drink, he is meek and innocent as a lamb, and as a +sheep in the hand of the shearer is dumb; when he has drank enough, +he is fearless as a lion, and says there is no one like him in the +world; in the next stage, he is like an ape, and dances, jests, and +talks nonsense, knowing not what he is doing and saying; when +thoroughly drunken, he wallows in the mire like a sow.<a href= +"#fn_63" id="fnm_63" name="fnm_63"><sup>63</sup></a> To this legend +Chaucer evidently alludes in the Prologue to the Maniciple’s +Tale:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>I trow that ye have dronken <em>wine of ape</em>,</p> +<p>And that is when men plaien at a strawe.</p> +</div> +<h4 class="tale">Luminous Jewels.</h4> +<p>Readers of that most fascinating collection of Eastern tales, +commonly but improperly called the <i>Arabian Nights’ +Entertainments</i>, must be familiar <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page197" name="page197"></a>[pg 197]</span>with the remarkable +property there ascribed to certain gems, of furnishing light in the +absence of the sun. Possibly the Arabians adopted this notion from +the Rabbis, in whose legends jewels are frequently represented as +possessing the light-giving property. For example, we learn that +Noah and his family, while in the ark, had no light besides what +was obtained from diamonds and other precious stones. And Abraham, +who, it appears, was extremely jealous of his wives, built for them +an enchanted city, of which the walls were so high as to shut out +the light of the sun; an inconvenience which he easily remedied by +means of a large basin full of rubies and other jewels, which shed +forth a flood of light equal in brilliancy to that of the sun +itself.<a href="#fn_64" id="fnm_64" name= +"fnm_64"><sup>64</sup></a></p> +<h4 class="tale">Abraham’s Arrival in Egypt.</h4> +<p>When Abraham journeyed to Egypt he had among his +<em>impedimenta</em> a large chest. On reaching the gates of the +capital the customs officials demanded the usual duties. Abraham +begged them to name the sum without troubling themselves to open +the chest. They demanded to be paid the duty on clothes. “I +will pay for clothes,” said the patriarch, with an alacrity +which aroused the suspicions of the officials, who then insisted +upon being paid the duty on silk. “I will pay for +silk,” said Abraham. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page198" +name="page198"></a>[pg 198]</span>Hereupon the officials demanded +the duty on gold, and Abraham readily offered to pay the amount. +Then they surmised that the chest contained jewels, but Abraham was +quite as willing to pay the higher duty on gems, and now the +curiosity of the officials could be no longer restrained. They +broke open the chest, when, lo, their eyes were dazzled with the +lustrous beauty of Sarah! Abraham, it seems, had adopted this plan +for smuggling his lovely wife into the Egyptian dominions.</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Infamous Citizens of Sodom.</h4> +<p>Some of the rabbinical legends descriptive of the singular +customs of the infamous citizens of Sodom are exceedingly +amusing—or amazing. The judges of that city are represented +as notorious liars and mockers of justice. When a man had cut off +the ear of his neighbour’s ass, the judge said to the owner: +“Let him have the ass till the ear is grown again, that it +may be returned to thee as thou wishest.” The hospitality +shown by the citizens to strangers within their gates was of a very +peculiar kind. They had a particular bed for the weary traveller +who entered their city and desired shelter for the night. If he was +found to be too long for the bed, they reduced him to the proper +size by chopping off so much of his legs; and if he was shorter +than the bed, he was stretched to the requisite length.<a href= +"#fn_65" id="fnm_65" name="fnm_65"><sup>65</sup></a> To preserve +their reputation for hospitality, <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page199" name="page199"></a>[pg 199]</span>when a stranger arrived +each citizen was required to give him a coin with his name written +on it, after which the unfortunate traveller was refused food, and +as soon as he had died of hunger every man took back his own money. +It was a capital offence for any one to supply the stranger with +food, in proof of which it is recorded that a poor man, having +arrived in Sodom, was presented with money and refused food by all +to whom he made his wants known. It chanced that, as he lay by the +roadside almost starved to death, he was observed by one of +Lot’s daughters, who had compassion on him, and supplied him +with food for many days, as she went to draw water for her +father’s household. The citizens, marvelling at the +man’s tenacity of life, set a person to watch him, and +Lot’s daughter being discovered bringing him bread, she was +condemned to death by burning. Another kind-hearted maiden who had +in like manner relieved the wants of a stranger, was punished in a +still more dreadful manner, being smeared over with honey, and +stung to death by bees.</p> +<p>It may be naturally supposed that travellers who were acquainted +with the peculiar ways of the citizens of Sodom would either pass +by that city without entering its inhospitable gates, or, if +compelled by business to go into the town, would previously provide +themselves with food; but even this last <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page200" name="page200"></a>[pg +200]</span>precaution did not avail them against the wiles of those +wicked people: A man from Elam, journeying to a place beyond Sodom, +reached the infamous city about sunset. The stranger had with him +an ass, bearing a valuable saddle to which was strapped a large +bale of merchandise. Being refused a lodging by each citizen of +whom he asked the favour, our traveller made a virtue of necessity, +and determined to pass the night, along with his animal and his +goods, as best he might, in the streets. His preparations with this +view were observed by a cunning and treacherous citizen, named +Hidud, who came up, and, accosting him courteously, desired to know +whence he had come and whither he was bound. The stranger answered +that he had come from Hebron, and was journeying to such a place; +that, being refused shelter by everybody, he was preparing to pass +the night in the streets; and that he was provided with bread for +his own use and with fodder for his beast. Upon this Hidud invited +the stranger to his house, assuring him that his lodging should +cost him nothing, while the wants of his beast should not be +forgotten. The stranger accepted of Hidud’s proffered +hospitality, and when they came to his house the citizen relieved +the ass of the saddle and merchandise, and carefully placed them +for security in his private closet. He then led the ass into his +stable and amply supplied him with provender; and returning to the +house, he set food before his guest, who, having supped, retired to +rest. Early in the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page201" name= +"page201"></a>[pg 201]</span>morning the stranger arose, intending +to resume his journey, but his host first pressed him to partake of +breakfast, and afterwards persuaded him to remain at his house for +two days. On the morning of the third day our traveller would no +longer delay his departure, and Hidud therefore brought out his +beast, saying kindly to his guest: “Fare thee well.” +“Hold!” said the traveller. “Where is my +beautiful saddle of many colours and the strings attached thereto, +together with my bale of rich merchandise?” “What +sayest thou?” exclaimed Hidud, in a tone of surprise. The +stranger repeated his demand for his saddle and goods. +“Ah,” said Hidud, affably, “I will interpret thy +dream: the strings that thou hast dreamt of indicate length of days +to thee; and the many-coloured saddle of thy dream signifies that +thou shalt become the owner of a beauteous garden of odorous +flowers and rich fruit trees.” “Nay,” returned +the stranger, “I certainly entrusted to thy care a saddle and +merchandise, and thou hast concealed them in thy house.” +“Well,” said Hidud, “I have told thee the meaning +of thy dream. My usual fee for interpreting a dream is four pieces +of silver, but, as thou hast been my guest, I will only ask three +pieces of thee.” On hearing this very unjust demand the +stranger was naturally enraged, and he accused Hidud in the court +of Sodom of stealing his property. After each had stated his case, +the judge decreed that the stranger must pay Hidud’s fee, +since he was well known as a professional <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page202" name="page202"></a>[pg +202]</span>interpreter of dreams. Hidud then said to the stranger: +“As thou hast proved thyself such a liar, I must not only be +paid my usual fee of four pieces of silver, but also the value of +the two days’ food with which I provided thee in my +house.” “I will cheerfully pay thee for the +food,” rejoined the traveller, “on condition that thou +restore my saddle and merchandise.” Upon this the litigants +began to abuse each other and were thrust into the street, where +the citizens, siding with Hidud, soundly beat the unlucky stranger, +and then expelled him from the city.</p> +<p>Abraham once sent his servant Eliezer to Sodom with his +compliments to Lot and his family, and to inquire concerning their +welfare. As Eliezer entered Sodom he saw a citizen beating a +stranger, whom he had robbed of his property. “Shame upon +thee!” exclaimed Eliezer to the citizen. “Is this the +way you act towards strangers?” To this remonstrance the man +replied by picking up a stone and striking Eliezer with it on the +forehead with such force as to cause the blood to flow down his +face. On seeing the blood the citizen caught hold of Eliezer and +demanded to be paid his fee for having freed him of impure blood. +“What!” said Eliezer, “am I to pay thee for +wounding me?” “Such is our law,” returned the +citizen. Eliezer refused to pay, and the man brought him before the +judge, to whom he made his complaint. The judge then decreed: +“Thou must pay this man his fee, since he has let thy +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page203" name="page203"></a>[pg +203]</span>blood; such is our law.” “There, +then,” said Eliezer, striking the judge with a stone, and +causing him to bleed, “pay my fee to this man, I want it +not,” and then departed from the court.<a href="#fn_66" id= +"fnm_66" name="fnm_66"><sup>66</sup></a></p> +<h4 class="tale">Abraham and Ishmael’s Wife.</h4> +<p>Hagar, the handmaid of Sarah, was given as a slave to Abraham, +by her father, Pharaoh, king of Egypt, who said: “My daughter +had better be a slave in the house of Abraham than mistress in any +other house.” Her son Ishmael, it is said, took unto himself +a wife of the daughters of Moab. Three years afterwards Abraham set +out to visit his son, having solemnly promised Sarah (who, it thus +appears, was still jealous of her former handmaid) that he would +not alight from his camel. He reached Ishmael’s house about +noontide, and found his wife alone. “Where is Ishmael?” +inquired the patriarch. “He is gone into the wilderness with +his mother to gather dates and other fruits.” “Give me, +I pray thee, a little bread and water, for I am fatigued with +travelling.” <span class="pagenum"><a id="page204" name= +"page204"></a>[pg 204]</span>“I have neither bread nor +water,” rejoined the inhospitable matron. “Well,” +said the patriarch, “tell Ishmael when he comes home that an +old man came to see him, and recommends him to change the door-post +of his house, for it is not worthy of him.” On +Ishmael’s return she gave him the message, from which he at +once understood that the stranger was his father, and that he did +not approve of his wife. Accordingly he sent her back to her own +people, and Hagar procured him a wife from her father’s +house. Her name was Fatima.</p> +<p>Another period of three years having elapsed, Abraham again +resolved to visit his son; and having, as before, pledged his word +to Sarah that he would not alight at Ishmael’s house, he +began his journey. When he arrived at his son’s domicile he +found Fatima alone, Ishmael being abroad, as on the occasion of his +previous visit. But from Fatima he received every attention, albeit +she knew not that he was her husband’s father. Highly +gratified with Fatima’s hospitality, the patriarch called +down blessings upon Ishmael, and returned home. Fatima duly +informed Ishmael of what had happened in his absence, and then he +knew that Abraham still loved him as his son.</p> +<p>This is one of the few rabbinical legends regarding Biblical +characters which do not exceed the limits of probability; and I +confess I can see no reason why these interesting incidents should +be considered as purely imaginary. As a rule, however, the Talmudic +legends of this kind must be taken not only <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page205" name="page205"></a>[pg 205]</span><em>cum +grano salis</em>, but with a whole bushel of that most necessary +commodity, particularly such marvellous relations as that of Rabbi +Jehoshua, when he informs us that the “ram caught in a +thicket,” which served as a substitute for sacrifice when +Abraham was prepared to offer up his son Isaac, was brought by an +angel out of Paradise, where it pastured under the Tree of Life and +drank from the brook which flows beneath it. This creature, the +Rabbi adds, diffused its perfume throughout the world.<a href= +"#fn_67" id="fnm_67" name="fnm_67"><sup>67</sup></a></p> +<h4 class="tale">Joseph and Potiphar’s Wife.</h4> +<p>The story of Joseph and Potiphar’s wife, as related in the +Book of Genesis, finds parallels in the popular tales and legends +of many countries: the vengeance of “woman whose love is +scorned,” says a Hindú writer, “is worse than +poison”! But the rabbinical version is quite unique in +representing the wife of Potiphar as having aiders and abettors in +carrying out her scheme of revenge: For some days after the pious +young Israelite had declined her amorous overtures, she looked so +ill that her female friends inquired of her the cause, and having +told them of her adventure with Joseph, they said: “Accuse +him before thy husband, that he may be cast into prison.” She +desired them to accuse him likewise to their husbands, which they +did accordingly; and their husbands went <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page206" name="page206"></a>[pg 206]</span>before +Pharaoh and complained of Joseph’s misconduct towards their +wives.<a href="#fn_68" id="fnm_68" name= +"fnm_68"><sup>68</sup></a></p> +<h4 class="tale">Joseph and his Brethren.</h4> +<p>Wonderful stories are related of Joseph and his brethren. +Simeon, if we may credit the Talmudists, must have been quite a +Hercules in strength. The <span class="pagenum"><a id="page207" +name="page207"></a>[pg 207]</span>Biblical narrative of +Simeon’s detention by his brother Joseph is brief but most +expressive: “And he turned himself about from them and wept; +and returned to them again, and communed with them, and took from +them Simeon, and bound him before their eyes.”<a href= +"#fn_69" id="fnm_69" name="fnm_69"><sup>69</sup></a> The Talmudists +condescend more minutely regarding this interesting incident: When +Joseph ordered seventy valiant men to put Simeon in chains, they +had no sooner approached him than he roared so loud that all the +seventy fell down at his feet and broke their teeth! Joseph then +said to his son Manasseh: “Chain thou him”; whereupon +Manasseh dealt Simeon a single blow and immediately overpowered +him; upon which Simeon exclaimed: “Surely this was the blow +of a kinsman!”—When Joseph sent Benjamin to prison, +Judah cried so loud that Chushim, the son of Dan, heard him in +Canaan and responded. Joseph feared for his life, for Judah was so +enraged that he wept blood. Some say that Judah wore five garments, +one over the other; but when he was angry his heart swelled so much +that his five garments burst open. Joseph cried so terribly that +one of the pillars of his house fell in and was changed into sand. +Then Judah said: “He is valiant, like one of us.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page208" name="page208"></a>[pg +208]</span></p> +<h4 class="tale">Jacob’s Sorrow.</h4> +<p>But like a gem, among a heap of rubbish is the touching little +story of how the news of Joseph’s being alive and the viceroy +of Egypt was conveyed to the aged and sorrow-stricken Jacob. When +the brethren had returned to the land of Canaan, after their second +expedition, they were perplexed how to communicate to their father +the joyful intelligence that his long-lamented son still lived, +fearing it might have a fatal effect on the old man if suddenly +told to him. At length Serach, the daughter of Asher, proposed that +she should convey the tidings to her grandfather in a song. +Accordingly she took her harp, and sang to Jacob the whole story of +Joseph’s life and his present greatness, and her music +soothed his spirit; and when he fully realised that his son was yet +alive, he fervently blessed her, and she was taken into Paradise, +without tasting of death.<a href="#fn_70" id="fnm_70" name= +"fnm_70"><sup>70</sup></a></p> +<h4 class="tale">Moses and Pharaoh.</h4> +<p>The slaughter of the Hebrew male children by the cruel command +of the “Pharoah who knew not Joseph” was a precaution +adopted, we are informed by the <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page209" name="page209"></a>[pg 209]</span>Rabbis, in consequence +of a dream which that monarch had, of an aged man who held a +balance in his right hand; in one scale he placed all the sages and +nobles of Egypt, and in the other a little lamb, which weighed down +them all. In the morning Pharaoh told his strange dream to his +counsellors, who were greatly terrified, and Bi’lam, the son +of Beor, the magician, said: “This dream, O King, forebodes +great affliction, which one of the children of Israel will bring +upon Egypt.” The king asked the soothsayer whether this +threatened evil might not be avoided. “There is but one way +of averting the calamity—cause every male child of Hebrew +parents to be slain at birth.” Pharaoh approved of this +advice, and issued an edict accordingly. The Egyptian +monarch’s kind-hearted daughter (whose name, by the way, was +Bathia), who rescued the infant Moses from the common fate of the +Hebrew male children, was a leper, and consequently was not +permitted to use the warm baths. But no sooner had she stretched +forth her hand to the crying infant than she was healed of her +leprosy, and, moreover, afterwards admitted bodily into +Paradise.<a href="#fn_71" id="fnm_71" name= +"fnm_71"><sup>71</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page210" name="page210"></a>[pg +210]</span>Of the childhood of Moses a curious story is told to +account for his being in after life “slow of speech and slow +of tongue”: Pharaoh was one day seated in his banqueting +hall, with his queen at his right hand and Bathia at his left, and +around him were his two sons, Bi’lam, the chief soothsayer, +and other dignitaries of his court, when he took little Moses (then +three years old) upon his knee, and began to fondle him. The Hebrew +urchin stretched forth <span class="pagenum"><a id="page211" name= +"page211"></a>[pg 211]</span>his hand and took the kingly crown +from Pharaoh’s brow and deliberately placed it upon his own +head. To the monarch and his courtiers this action of the child was +ominous, and Pharaoh inquired of his counsellors how, in their +judgment, the audacious little Hebrew should be punished. +Bi’lam, the sooth-sayer, answered: “Do not suppose, O +King, that this is necessarily the thoughtless action of a child; +recollect thy dream which I did interpret for thee. But let us +prove whether this child is possessed of understanding beyond his +years, in this manner: let two plates, one containing fire, the +other gold, be placed before the child; and if he grasp the gold, +then is he of superior understanding, and should therefore be put +to death.” The plates, as proposed by the soothsayer, were +placed before the child Moses, who immediately seized upon the +fire, and put it into his mouth, which caused him henceforward to +stammer in his speech.</p> +<p>It was no easy matter for Moses and his brother to gain access +to Pharaoh, for his palace had 400 gates, 100 on each side; and +before each gate stood no fewer than 60,000 tried warriors. +Therefore the angel Gabriel introduced them by another way, and +when Pharaoh beheld Moses and Aaron he demanded to know who had +admitted them. He summoned the guards, and ordered some of them to +be beaten and others to be put to death. But next day Moses and +Aaron returned, and the guards, when called in, exclaimed: +“These men are sorcerers, for they cannot <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page212" name="page212"></a>[pg 212]</span>have +come in through any of the gates.” There were, however, much +more formidable guardians of the royal palace: the 400 gates were +guarded by bears, lions, and other ferocious beasts, who suffered +no one to pass unless they were fed with flesh. But when Moses and +Aaron came, they gathered about them, and licked the feet of the +prophets, accompanying them to Pharaoh.—Readers who are +familiar with the <i>Thousand and One Nights</i> and other Asiatic +story-books will recollect many tales in which palaces are +similarly guarded. In the spurious “Canterbury” <i>Tale +of Beryn</i> (taken from the first part of the old French romance +of the Chevalier Berinus), which has been re-edited for the Chaucer +Society, the palace-garden of Duke Isope is guarded by eight +necromancers who look like “abominabill wormys, enough to +frighte the hertiest man on erth,” also by a white lion that +had eaten five hundred men.</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Rabbi_3" name="Rabbi_3"></a>III</h3> +<p class="small cen">LEGENDS OF DAVID AND SOLOMON, ETC.</p> +<p>Muhammed, the great Arabian lawgiver, drew very largely from the +rabbinical legends in his composition of the Kurán, every +verse of which is considered by pious Muslims as a miracle, or +wonder (<em>ayet</em>). The well-known story of the spider weaving +its web over the mouth of the cave in which Muhammed and Abú +Bekr had concealed themselves in their flight from <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page213" name="page213"></a>[pg 213]</span>Mecca +to Medina was evidently borrowed from the Talmudic legend of +David’s flight from the malevolence of Saul: Immediately +after David had entered the cave of Adullam, a spider spun its web +across the opening. His pursuers presently passing that way were +about to search the cave; but perceiving the spider’s web, +they naturally concluded that no one could have recently entered +there, and thus was the future king of Israel preserved from +Saul’s vengeance.</p> +<p>King David once had a narrow escape from death at the hands of +Goliath’s brother Ishbi. The king was hunting one morning +when Satan appeared before him in the form of a deer.<a href= +"#fn_72" id="fnm_72" name="fnm_72"><sup>72</sup></a> David drew his +bow, but missed him, and the feigned deer ran off at the top of his +speed. The king, with true sportsman’s instinct, pursued the +deer, even into the land of the Philistines—which, doubtless, +was Satan’s object in assuming that form. It unluckily +happened that Ishbi, the brother of Goliath, recognised in the +person of the royal hunter the slayer of the champion of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page214" name="page214"></a>[pg +214]</span>Gath, and he immediately seized David, bound him neck +and heels together, and laid him beneath his wine-press, designing +to crush him to death. But, lo, the earth became soft, and the +Philistine was baffled. Meanwhile, in the land of Israel a dove +with silver wings was seen by the courtiers of King David +fluttering about, apparently in great distress, which signified to +the wise men that their royal master was in danger of his life. +Abishai, one of David’s counsellors, at once determined to go +and succour his sovereign, and accordingly mounted the king’s +horse, and in a few minutes was in the land of the Philistines. On +arriving at Ishbi’s house, he discovered that +gentleman’s venerable mother spinning at the door. The old +lady threw her distaff at the Israelite, and, missing him, desired +him to bring it back to her. Abishai returned it in such a manner +that she never afterwards required a distaff. This little incident +was witnessed by Ishbi, who, resolving to rid himself of one of his +enemies forthwith, took David from beneath the wine-press, and +threw him high into the air, expecting that he would fall upon his +spear, which he had previously fixed into the ground. But Abishai +pronounced the Great Name (often referred to in the Talmud), and +David, in consequence, remained suspended between earth and sky. In +the sequel they both unite against Ishbi, and put him to +death.<a href="#fn_73" id="fnm_73" name= +"fnm_73"><sup>73</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page215" name="page215"></a>[pg +215]</span>Of Solomon the Wise there are, of course, many curious +rabbinical legends. His reputation for superior sagacity extended +over all the world, and the wisest men of other nations came humbly +to him as pupils. It would appear that this great monarch was not +less willing to afford the poorest of his subjects the benefit of +his advice when they applied to him than able to solve the +knottiest problem which the most keen-witted casuist could +propound. One morning a man, whose life was embittered by a +froward, shrewish wife, left his house to seek the advice of +Solomon. On the road he overtook another man, with whom he entered +into conversation, and presently learned that he was also going to +the king’s palace. “Pray, friend,” said he, +“what might be your business with the king? I am going to ask +him how I should manage a wife who has long been froward.” +“Why,” said the other, “I employ a great many +people, and have a great deal of capital invested in my business; +yet I find I am losing more and more every year, instead of +gaining; and I want to know the cause, and how it may be +remedied.” By-and-by they overtook a third man, who informed +them that he was a physician whose practice had fallen off +considerably, and he was proceeding to ask King Solomon’s +advice as to how it might be increased. <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page216" name="page216"></a>[pg 216]</span>At +length they reached the palace, and it was arranged among them that +the man who had the shrewish wife should first present himself +before the king. In a short time he rejoined his companions with a +rather puzzled expression of countenance, and the others inquiring +how he had sped, he answered: “I can see no wisdom in the +king’s advice; he simply advised me to <em>go to a +mill</em>.” The second man then went in, and returned quite +as much perplexed as the first, saying: “Of a truth, Solomon +is not so wise as he is reported to be; would you believe +it?—all he said to me when I had told him my grievance was, +<em>get up early in the morning</em>.” The third man, +somewhat discouraged by these apparently idle answers, entered the +presence-chamber, and on coming out told his companions that the +king had simply advised him to <em>be proud</em>. Equally +disappointed, the trio returned homeward together. They had not +gone far when one of them said to the first man: “Here is a +mill; did not the king advise you to go into one?” The man +entered, and presently ran out, exclaiming: “I’ve got +it! I’ve got it! I am to beat my wife!” He went home +and gave his spouse a sound thrashing, and she was ever afterwards +a very obedient wife.<a href="#fn_74" id="fnm_74" name= +"fnm_74"><sup>74</sup></a> The second man got up very early the +next morning, and discovered a number of <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page217" name="page217"></a>[pg 217]</span>his +servants idling about, and others loading a cart with goods from +his warehouse, which they were stealing. He now understood the +meaning of Solomon’s advice, and henceforward always rose +early every morning, looked after his servants, and ultimately +became very wealthy. The third man, on reaching home, told his wife +to get him a splendid robe, and to instruct all the servants to +admit no one into his presence without first obtaining his +permission. Next day, as he sat in his private chamber, arrayed in +his magnificent gown, a lady sent her servant to demand his +attendance, and he was about to enter the physician’s +chamber, as usual, without ceremony, when he was stopped, and told +that the doctor’s permission must be first obtained. After +some delay the lady’s servant was admitted, and found the +great doctor seated among his books. On being desired to visit the +lady, the doctor told the servant that he could not do so without +first receiving his fee. In short, by this professional pride, the +physician’s practice rapidly increased, and in a few years he +acquired a large fortune. And thus in each case Solomon’s +advice proved successful.<a href="#fn_75" id="fnm_75" name= +"fnm_75"><sup>75</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page218" name="page218"></a>[pg +218]</span>We learn from the Old Testament that the Queen of Sheba +(or Sába, whom the Arabians identify with Bilkís, +queen of El-Yemen) “came to prove the wisdom of Solomon with +hard questions,” and that he answered them all. What were the +questions—or riddles—the solution of which so much +astonished the Queen of Sheba we are not told; but the Rabbis +inform us that, after she had exhausted her budget of riddles, she +one day presented herself at the foot of Solomon’s throne, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page219" name="page219"></a>[pg +219]</span>holding in one hand a bouquet of natural flowers and in +the other a bouquet of artificial flowers, desiring the king to say +which was the product of nature. Now, the artificial flowers were +so exactly modelled in imitation of the others that it was thought +impossible for him to answer the question, from the distance at +which she held the bouquets. But Solomon was not to be baffled by a +woman with scraps of painted paper: he caused a window in the +audience-chamber to be opened, when a cluster of bees immediately +flew in and alighted upon one of the bouquets, while not one of the +insects fixed upon the other. By this device Solomon was enabled to +distinguish between the natural and the artificial flowers.</p> +<p>Again the Queen of Sheba endeavoured to outwit the sagacious +monarch. She brought before him a number of boys and girls, +apparelled all alike, and desired him to distinguish those of one +sex from those of the other, as they stood before him. Solomon +caused a large basin full of water to be fetched in, and ordered +them all to wash their hands. By this expedient he discovered the +males from the females; since the boys merely washed their hands, +while the girls washed also their arms.<a href="#fn_76" id="fnm_76" +name="fnm_76"><sup>76</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page220" name="page220"></a>[pg +220]</span>The Arabians and Persians, who have many traditions +regarding Solomon, invariably represent him as adept in necromancy, +and as being intimately acquainted with the language of beasts and +birds. Josephus, the great Jewish historian, distinctly states that +Solomon possessed the art of expelling demons, that he composed +such incantations also by which distempers are alleviated, and that +he left behind him the manner of using exorcisms, by which they +drive out demons, never to return. Of course, Josephus merely +reproduces rabbinical traditions, and there can be no doubt but the +Arabian stories regarding Solomon’s magical powers are +derived from the same source. It appears that Solomon’s +signet-ring was the chief instrument with which he performed his +numerous magical exploits.<a href="#fn_77" id="fnm_77" name= +"fnm_77"><sup>77</sup></a> By its wondrous power <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page221" name="page221"></a>[pg 221]</span>he +imprisoned Ashmedai, the prince of devils; and on one occasion the +king’s curiosity to increase his store of magical knowledge +cost him very dear—no less than the loss of his kingdom for a +time. Solomon was in the habit of daily plying Ashmedai with +questions, to all of which the fiend returned answers, furnishing +the desired information, until one day the king asked him a +particular question which the captive evil spirit flatly refused to +answer, except on condition that Solomon should lend him his +signet-ring. The king’s passion for magical knowledge +overcame his prudence, and he handed his ring to the fiend, thereby +depriving himself of all power over his captive, who immediately +swallowed the monarch, and stretching out his wings, flew up into +the air, and shot out his “inside passenger” four +hundred leagues <span class="pagenum"><a id="page222" name= +"page222"></a>[pg 222]</span>distant from Jerusalem! Ashmedai then +assumed the form of Solomon, and sat on his throne. Meanwhile +Solomon was become a wanderer on the face of the earth, and it was +then that he said (as it is written in the book of Ecclesiasticus +i, 3): “This is the reward of all my labour”; which +word <em>this</em>, one learned Rabbi affirms to have reference to +Solomon’s walking-staff, and another commentator, to his +ragged coat; for the poor monarch went begging from door to door, +and in every town he entered he always cried aloud: “I, the +Preacher, was king over Israel in Jerusalem!” But the people +all thought him insane. At length, in the course of his wanderings, +he reached Jerusalem, where he cried, as usual: “I, the +Preacher, was king over Israel in Jerusalem!” and as he never +varied in his recital, certain wise counsellors, reflecting that a +fool is not constant in his tale, resolved to ascertain, if +possible, whether the poor beggar was really King Solomon. With +this object they assembled, and taking the mendicant with them, +they gave him the magical ring and led him into the +throne-room.<a href="#fn_78" id="fnm_78" name= +"fnm_78"><sup>78</sup></a> Ashmedai no sooner caught sight of his +old master than he shrieked wildly and flew away; and Solomon +resumed his mild and beneficent rule over the people of Israel. The +Rabbis add, that ever afterwards, even to his dying day, Solomon +was afraid of the prince of devils, and could not go to sleep +without <span class="pagenum"><a id="page223" name= +"page223"></a>[pg 223]</span>having his bed surrounded by an armed +guard, as it is written in the Book of Canticles, iii, 7, 8.</p> +<p>Another account informs us that the demon, having cajoled +Solomon out of possession of his magic ring, at once flung it into +the sea and cast the king 400 miles away. Solomon came to a place +called Mash Kerim, where he was made chief cook in the palace of +the king of Ammon, whose daughter, called Naama, became enamoured +of him, and they eloped to a far distant country. As Naama was one +day preparing a fish for broiling, she found Solomon’s ring +in its stomach, which, of course, enabled him to recover his +kingdom and to imprison the demon in a copper vessel, which he cast +into the Lake of Tiberias.<a href="#fn_79" id="fnm_79" name= +"fnm_79"><sup>79</sup></a></p> +<p>It may appear strange to some readers that the Rabbis should +represent the sagacious Solomon in the character of a practitioner +of the Black Art. But the circumstance simply indicates that +Solomon’s acquirements in scientific knowledge were +considerably <span class="pagenum"><a id="page224" name= +"page224"></a>[pg 224]</span>beyond those of most men of his age; +and, as in the case of our own Friar Bacon, his superior +attainments were popularly attributed to magical arts. Nature, it +need hardly be remarked, is the only school of magic, and men of +science are the true magicians.</p> +<h4 class="tale">Unheard-of Monsters.</h4> +<p>The marvellous creatures which are described by Pliny, and by +our own old English writers, Sir John Mandeville and Geoffrey of +Monmouth, are common-place in comparison with some of those +mentioned in the Talmud. Even the monstrous <em>roc</em> of the +<i>Arabian Nights</i> must have been a mere tom-tit compared with +the bird which Rabbi bar Chama says he once saw. It was so tall +that its head reached the sky, while its feet rested on the bottom +of the ocean; and he affords us some slight notion of the depth of +the sea by informing us that a carpenter’s axe, which had +accidentally fallen in, had not reached the bottom in seven years. +The same Rabbi saw “a frog as large as a village containing +sixty houses.” Huge as this frog was, the snake that +swallowed it must have been the very identical serpent of +Scandinavian mythology, which encircled the earth; yet a crow +gobbled up this serpent, and then flew to the top of a cedar, which +was as broad as sixteen waggons placed side by +side.—Sailors’ “yarns,” as they are spun to +marvel-loving old ladies in our jest-books, are as nothing to the +rabbinical accounts of “strange fish,” some with eyes +like the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page225" name= +"page225"></a>[pg 225]</span>moon, others horned, and 300 miles in +length. Not less wonderful are some four-footed creatures. The +effigy of the unicorn, familiar to every schoolboy, on the royal +arms of Great Britain, affords no adequate idea of the actual +dimensions of that remarkable animal. Since a unicorn one day old +is as large as Mount Tabor, it may readily be supposed that Noah +could not possibly have got a full-grown one into the ark; he +therefore secured it by its horn to the side, and thus the creature +was saved alive. (The Talmudist had forgot that the animals saved +from the Flood were in pairs.)<a href="#fn_80" id="fnm_80" name= +"fnm_80"><sup>80</sup></a> The celebrated Og, king of Bashan, it +seems, was one of the antediluvians, and was saved by riding on the +back of the unicorn. The dwellers in Brobdignag were pigmies +compared with the renowned King Og, since his footsteps were forty +miles apart, and Abraham’s ivory bed was made of one of his +teeth. Moses, the Rabbis tell us, was ten cubits high<a href= +"#fn_81" id="fnm_81" name="fnm_81"><sup>81</sup></a> and his +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page226" name="page226"></a>[pg +226]</span>walking-stick ten cubits more, with the top of which, +after jumping ten cubits from the ground, he contrived to touch the +heel of King Og; from which it has been concluded that that monarch +was from two to three thousand cubits in height. But (remarks an +English writer) a certain Jewish traveller has shown the fallacy of +this mensuration, by meeting with the end of one of the leg-bones +of the said King Og, and travelling four hours before he came to +the other end. Supposing this Rabbi to have been a fair walker, the +bone was sixteen miles long!</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Rabbi_4" name="Rabbi_4"></a>IV</h3> +<p class="small cen">MORAL AND ENTERTAINING TALES.</p> +<p>If most of the rabbinical legends cited in the preceding +sections have served simply to amuse the general +reader—though to those of a philosophical turn they must have +been suggestive of the depths of imbecility to which the human mind +may descend—the stories, apologues, and parables contained in +the Talmud, of which specimens are now to be presented, are +calculated to furnish wholesome moral instruction as well as +entertainment to readers of all ranks and ages. In the art of +conveying impressive moral lessons, by means of ingenious fictions, +the Hebrew sages have never been excelled, and perhaps they are +rivalled only by the ancient philosophers of India. <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page227" name="page227"></a>[pg 227]</span>The +significant circumstance has already been noticed (in the +introductory section) that several of the most striking tales in +European mediæval collections—particularly the +<i>Disciplina Clericalis</i> of Petrus Alfonsus and the famous +<i>Gesta Romanorum</i>—are traceable to Talmudic sources. +Little did the priest-ridden, ignorant, marvel-loving laity of +European countries imagine that the moral fictions which their +spiritual directors recited every Sunday for their edification were +derived from the wise men of the despised Hebrew race! But, indeed, +there is reason to believe that few mere casual readers even at the +present day have any notion of the extent to which the popular +fictions of Europe are indebted to the old Jewish Rabbis.</p> +<p>Like the sages of India, the Hebrew Fathers in their teachings +strongly inculcate the duty of active benevolence—the liberal +giving of alms to the poor and needy; and, indeed, the wealthy Jews +are distinguished at the present day by their open-handed +liberality in support of the public charitable institutions of the +several countries of which they are subjects. “What you +increase bestow on good works,” says the Hindú sage. +“Charity is to money what salt is to meat,” says the +Hebrew philosopher: if the wealthy are not charitable their riches +will perish. In illustration of this maxim is the story of</p> +<h4 class="tale">Rabbi Jochonan and the Poor Woman.</h4> +<p>One day Rabbi Jochonan was riding outside the city of Jerusalem, +followed by his disciples, when <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page228" name="page228"></a>[pg 228]</span>he observed a poor +woman laboriously gathering the grain that dropped from the mouths +of the horses of the Arabs as they were feeding. Looking up and +recognising Jochonan, she cried: “O Rabbi, assist me!” +“Who art thou?” demanded Jochonan. “I am the +daughter of Nakdimon, the son of Guryon.” “Why, what +has become of thy father’s money—the dowry thou +receivedst on thy wedding day?” “Ah, Rabbi, is there +not a saying in Jerusalem, ‘the salt was wanting to the +money?’” “But thy husband’s money?” +“That followed the other: I have lost them both.” The +good Rabbi wept for the poor woman and helped her. Then said he to +his disciples, as they continued on their way: “I remember +that when I signed that woman’s marriage contract her father +gave her as a dowry one million of gold dínars, and her +husband was a man of considerable wealth besides.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">The ill-fated riches of Nakdimon are referred +to in another tale, as a lesson to those who are not charitable +according to their means:</p> +<h4 class="tale">A Safe Investment.</h4> +<p>Rabbi Taraphon, though a very wealthy man, was exceedingly +avaricious, and seldom gave help to the poor. Once, however, he +involuntarily bestowed a considerable sum in relieving the +distressed. Rabbi Akiba came to him one day, and told him that he +knew of certain real estate, which would be a very profitable +investment. Rabbi Taraphon handed him <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page229" name="page229"></a>[pg 229]</span>4000 dínars in +gold to be so invested, and Rabbi Akiba forthwith distributed the +whole among the poor. By-and-by, Rabbi Taraphon, happening to meet +his friend, desired to know where the real estate was in which his +money had been invested. Rabbi Akiba took him to the college, where +he caused one of the boys to read aloud the 112th Psalm, and on his +reaching the 9th verse, “He distributeth, he giveth to the +needy, his righteousness endureth for +ever”—“There,” said he, “thou seest +where thy money is invested.” “And why hast thou done +this?” demanded Rabbi Taraphon. “Hast thou +forgotten,” answered his friend, “how Nakdimon, the son +of Guryon, was punished because he gave not according to his +means?” “But why didst thou not tell me of thy purpose? +I could myself have bestowed my money on the poor.” +“Nay,” rejoined Rabbi Akiba, “it is a greater +virtue to cause another to give than to give one’s +self.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Resignation to the divine will under sore +family bereavements has, perhaps, never been more beautifully +illustrated than by the incident related of the Rabbi Meir. This +little tale, as follows, is one of three Talmudic narratives which +the poet Coleridge has translated:<a href="#fn_82" id="fnm_82" +name="fnm_82"><sup>82</sup></a></p> +<h4 class="tale">The Jewels.</h4> +<p>The celebrated teacher Rabbi Meir sat during the whole of the +Sabbath day in the public school <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page230" name="page230"></a>[pg 230]</span>instructing the people. +During his absence from the house his two sons died, both of them +of uncommon beauty, and enlightened in the law. His wife bore them +to her bed-chamber, laid them upon the marriage-bed, and spread a +white covering over their bodies. In the evening the Rabbi Meir +came home. “Where are my two sons,” he asked, +“that I may give them my blessing? I repeatedly looked round +the school, and I did not see them there.” She reached him a +goblet. He praised the Lord at the going out of the Sabbath, drank, +and again asked: “Where are my sons, that they too may drink +of the cup of blessing?” “They will not be afar +off,” she said, and placed food before him that he might eat. +He was in a gladsome and genial mood, and when he had said grace +after the meal, she thus addressed him: “Rabbi, with thy +permission, I would fain propose to thee one question.” +“Ask it then, my love,” he replied. “A few days +ago a person entrusted some jewels into my custody, and now he +demands them of me; should I give them back again?” +“This is a question,” said the Rabbi, “which my +wife should not have thought it necessary to ask. What! wouldst +thou hesitate or be reluctant to restore to every one his +own?” “No,” she replied; “but yet I thought +it best not to restore them without acquainting you +therewith.” She then led him to the chamber, and, stepping to +the bed, took the white covering from the dead bodies. “Ah, +my sons—my sons!” thus <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page231" name="page231"></a>[pg 231]</span>loudly lamented the +father. “My sons! the light of my eyes, and the light of my +understanding! I was your father, but ye were my teachers in the +law.” The mother turned away and wept bitterly. At length she +took her husband by the hand, and said: “Rabbi, didst thou +not teach me that we must not be reluctant to restore that which +was entrusted to our keeping? See—‘the Lord gave, the +Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the +Lord!’”<a href="#fn_83" id="fnm_83" name= +"fnm_83"><sup>83</sup></a> “Blessed be the name of the +Lord!” echoed Rabbi Meir. “And blessed be his name for +thy sake too, for well is it written: ‘Whoso hath found a +virtuous wife, hath a greater prize than rubies; she openeth her +mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is the law of +kindness.’”<a href="#fn_84" id="fnm_84" name= +"fnm_84"><sup>84</sup></a></p> +<p class="spacedTop">The originals of not a few of the early +Italian tales are found in the Talmud—the author of the +<i>Cento Novelle Antiche</i>, Boccaccio, Sacchetti, and other +novelists having derived the groundwork of many of their fictions +from the <i>Gesta Romanorum</i> and the <i>Disciplina +Clericalis</i> of Peter Alfonsus, which are largely composed of +tales drawn from Eastern sources. The 123rd novel of Sacchetti, in +which a young man carves a capon in a whimsical fashion, finds its +original in the following Talmudic story:</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Capon-Carver.</h4> +<p>It happened that a citizen of Jerusalem, while on a distant +provincial journey on business, was suddenly <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page232" name="page232"></a>[pg 232]</span>taken +ill, and, feeling himself to be at the point of death, he sent for +the master of the house, and desired him to take charge of his +property until his son should arrive to claim it; but, in order to +make sure that the claimant was really the son, he was not to +deliver up the property until the applicant had proved his wisdom +by performing three ingenious actions. Shortly after having given +his friend these injunctions the merchant died, and the melancholy +intelligence was duly transmitted to his son, who in the course of +a few weeks left Jerusalem to claim his property. On reaching the +town where his father’s friend resided, he began to inquire +of the people where his house was situated, and, finding no one who +could, or would, give him this necessary information, the youth was +in sore perplexity how to proceed in his quest, when he observed a +man carrying a heavy load of firewood. “How much for that +wood?” he cried. The man readily named his price. “Thou +shalt have it,” said the stranger. “Carry it to the +house of <span style= +"letter-spacing:-0.2em;">——</span>— [naming his +father’s friend], and I will follow thee.” Well +satisfied to have found a purchaser on his own terms, the man at +once proceeded as he was desired, and on arriving at the house he +threw down his load before the door. “What is all +this?” demanded the master. “I have not ordered any +wood.” “Perhaps not,” said the man; “but +the person behind me has bought it, and desired me to bring it +hither.” The <span class="pagenum"><a id="page233" name= +"page233"></a>[pg 233]</span>stranger had now come up, and, +saluting the master of the house, told him who he was, and +explained that, since he could not ascertain where his house was +situated by inquiries of people in the streets, he had adopted this +expedient, which had succeeded. The master praised the young +man’s ingenuity, and led him into the house.</p> +<p>When the several members of the family, together with the +stranger, were assembled round the dinner-table, the master of the +house, in order to test the stranger’s ingenuity, desired his +guest to carve a dish containing five chickens, and to distribute a +portion to each of the persons who were present—namely, the +master and mistress, their two daughters and two sons, and himself. +The young stranger acquitted himself of the duty in this manner: +One of the chickens he divided between the master and the mistress; +another between the two daughters; the third between the two sons; +and the remaining two he took for his own share. “This +visitor of mine,” thought the master, “is a curious +carver; but I will try him once more at supper.”</p> +<p>Various amusements made the afternoon pass very agreeably to the +stranger, until supper-time, when a fine capon was placed upon the +table, which the master desired his guest to carve for the company. +The young man took the capon, and began to carve and distribute it +thus: To the master of the house he gave the head; to the mistress, +the inward part; to the two daughters, each a wing; to the two +sons, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page234" name="page234"></a>[pg +234]</span>each a leg; and the remainder he took for himself. After +supper the master of the house thus addressed his visitor: +“Friend, I thought thy carving at dinner somewhat peculiar, +but thy distribution of the capon this evening seems to me +extremely whimsical. Give me leave to ask, do the citizens of +Jerusalem usually carve their capons in this fashion?”</p> +<p>“Master,” said the youth, “I will gladly +explain my system of carving, which does appear to you so strange. +At dinner I was requested to divide five chickens among seven +persons. This I could not do otherwise than arithmetically; +therefore, I adopted the perfect number <em>three</em> as my +guide—thou, thy wife, and one chicken made <em>three</em>; +thy two daughters and one chicken made <em>three</em>; thy two sons +and one chicken made <em>three</em>; and I had to take the +remaining chickens for my own share, as two chickens and myself +made <em>three</em>.” “Very ingenious, I must +confess,” said the master. “But how dost thou explain +thy carving of the capon?” “That, master, I performed +according to what appeared to me the fitness of things. I gave the +head of the capon to thee, because thou art the head of this house; +I gave the inward part to the mistress, as typical of her +fruitfulness; thy daughters are both of marriageable years, and, as +it is natural to wish them well settled in life, I gave each of +them a wing, to indicate that they should soon fly abroad; thy two +sons are the pillars of thy house, and to them I gave the legs, +which are the supporters of the animal; while to myself I +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page235" name="page235"></a>[pg +235]</span>took that part of the capon which most resembles a boat, +in which I came hither, and in which I intend to return.” +From these proofs of his ingenuity the master was now fully +convinced that the stranger was the true son of his late friend the +merchant, and next morning he delivered to him his father’s +property.<a href="#fn_85" id="fnm_85" name= +"fnm_85"><sup>85</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page236" name="page236"></a>[pg +236]</span></p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Rabbi_5" name="Rabbi_5"></a>V</h3> +<p class="small cen">MORAL TALES, FABLES, AND PARABLES.</p> +<p>Reverence for parents, which is still a marked characteristic of +Eastern races, has ever been strongly inculcated by the Jewish +Fathers; and the noble conduct of Damah, the son of Nethuna, +towards both his father and mother, is adduced in the Talmud as an +example for all times and every condition of life:</p> +<h4 class="tale">A Dutiful Son.</h4> +<p>The mother of Damah was unfortunately insane, and would +frequently not only abuse him but strike him in the presence of his +companions; yet would not this dutiful son suffer an ill word to +escape his lips, and all he used to say on such occasions was: +“Enough, dear mother, enough.” One of the precious +stones attached to the high priest’s sacerdotal garments was +once, by some means or other, lost. Informed that the son of +Nethuna had one like it, the priests went to him and offered him a +very large price for it. He consented to take the sum offered, and +went into an adjoining room to fetch the jewel. On entering he +found his father asleep, his foot resting on the chest wherein the +gem was deposited. Without disturbing his father, <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page237" name="page237"></a>[pg 237]</span>he went +back to the priests and told them that he must for the present +forego the large profit he could make, as his father was asleep. +The case being urgent, and the priests thinking that he only said +so to obtain a larger price, offered him more money. +“No,” said he; “I would not even for a moment +disturb my father’s rest for all the treasures in the +world.” The priests waited till the father awoke, when Damah +brought them the jewel. They gave him the sum they had offered him +the second time, but the good man refused to take it. “I will +not,” said he, “barter for gold the satisfaction of +having done my duty. Give me what you offered at first, and I shall +be satisfied.” This they did, and left him with a +blessing.</p> +<h4 class="tale">An Ingenious Will.</h4> +One of the best rabbinical stories of common life is of a wise man +who, residing at some distance from Jerusalem, had sent his son to +the Holy City in order to complete his education, and, dying during +his son's absence, bequeathed the whole of his estate to one of his +own slaves, on the condition that he should allow his son to select +any one article which pleased him for an inheritance. Surprised, +and naturally angry, at such gross injustice on the part of his +father in preferring a slave for his heir in place of himself, the +young man sought counsel of his teacher, who, after considering the +terms of the will, thus explained its meaning and effect: "By this +action <span class="pagenum"><a id="page238" name="page238"></a>[pg +238]</span>thy father has simply secured thy inheritance to thee: +to prevent his slaves from plundering the estate before thou +couldst formally claim it, he left it to one of them, who, +believing himself to be the owner, would take care of the property. +Now, what a slave possesses belongs to his master. Choose, +therefore, the slave for thy portion, and then possess all that was +thy father's." The young man followed his teacher's advice, took +possession of the slave, and thus of his father's wealth, and then +gave the slave his freedom, together with a considerable sum of +money.<a href="#fn_86" id="fnm_86" name="fnm_86"><sup>86</sup></a> +<p class="spacedTop">And now we proceed to cite one or two of the +rabbinical fables, in the proper signification of the +term—namely, moral narratives in which beasts or <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page239" name="page239"></a>[pg 239]</span>birds +are the characters. Although it is generally allowed that Fable was +the earliest form adopted for conveying moral truths, yet it is by +no means agreed among the learned in what country of remote +antiquity it originated. Dr. Landsberger, in his erudite +introduction to <i>Panchatantra</i> (1859), contends that the Jews +were the first to employ fables for purposes of moral instruction, +and that the oldest fable extant is Jotham’s apologue of the +trees desiring a king (Book of Judges, ix. 8-15).<a href="#fn_87" +id="fnm_87" name="fnm_87"><sup>87</sup></a> According to Dr. +Landsberger, the sages of India were indebted to the Hebrews for +the idea of teaching by means of fables, probably during the reign +of Solomon, who is believed to have had commerce with the western +shores of India.<a href="#fn_88" id="fnm_88" name= +"fnm_88"><sup>88</sup></a> We are told by Josephus that Solomon +“composed of parables and similitudes three thousand; for he +spoke a parable upon every sort of tree, from the hyssop to the +cedar; and, in like manner, also about beasts, about all sorts of +living creatures, whether upon earth, or in the seas, or in the +air; for he was not unacquainted with any of their natures, nor +omitted inquiring about them, but described them all like a +philosopher, and demonstrated his exquisite knowledge of their +several properties.” These fables of Solomon, if they were +ever committed to writing, had perished long before the time of the +great Jewish <span class="pagenum"><a id="page240" name= +"page240"></a>[pg 240]</span>historian; but there seems no reason +to doubt the fact that the wise king of Israel composed many works +besides those ascribed to him in the Old Testament. The general +opinion among European orientalists is that Fable had its origin in +India; and the Hindús themselves claim the honour of +inventing our present system of numerals (which came into Europe +through the Arabians, who derived it from the Hindús), the +game of chess, and the Fables of Vishnusarman (the +<i>Panchatantra</i> and its abridgment, the <i>Hitopadesa</i>).</p> +<p>It is said that Rabbi Meir knew upwards of three hundred fables +relating to the fox alone; but of these only three fragments have +been preserved, and this is one of them, according to Mr. +Polano’s translation:</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Fox and the Bear.</h4> +<p>A Fox said to a Bear: “Come, let us go into this kitchen; +they are making preparations for the Sabbath, and we shall be able +to find food.” The Bear followed the Fox, but, being bulky, +he was captured and punished. Angry thereat, he designed to tear +the Fox to pieces, under the pretence that the forefathers of the +Fox had once stolen his food, wherein occurs the saying, “the +fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are +set on edge.”<a href="#fn_89" id="fnm_89" name= +"fnm_89"><sup>89</sup></a> “Nay,” said the Fox, +“come with me, my good friend; let us not quarrel. I will +lead thee to another place where we shall surely find food.” +The Fox then led <span class="pagenum"><a id="page241" name= +"page241"></a>[pg 241]</span>the Bear to a deep well, where two +buckets were fastened together by a rope, like a balance. It was +night, and the Fox pointed to the moon reflected in the water, +saying: “Here is a fine cheese; let us descend and partake of +it.” The Fox entered his bucket first, but being too light to +balance the weight of the Bear, he took with him a stone. As soon +as the Bear had got into the other bucket, however, the Fox threw +the stone away, and consequently the bear descended to the bottom +and was drowned.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">The reader will doubtless recognise in this +fable the original of many modern popular tales having a similar +catastrophe. It will also be observed that the vulgar saying of the +moon being “a fine cheese” is of very considerable +antiquity.<a href="#fn_90" id="fnm_90" name= +"fnm_90"><sup>90</sup></a></p> +<p>And here is another rabbinical fable of a Fox—a very +common character in the apologues of most countries; although the +“moral” appended to this one by the pious fabulist is +much more striking than is sometimes the case of those deduced from +beast-fables:</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Fox in the Garden.</h4> +<p>A Fox once came near a very fine garden, where he beheld lofty +trees laden with fruit that charmed the eye. Such a beautiful +sight, added to his natural greediness, excited in him the desire +of possession. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page242" name= +"page242"></a>[pg 242]</span>He fain would taste the forbidden +fruit; but a high wall stood between him and the object of his +wishes. He went about in search of an entrance, and at last found +an opening in the wall, but it was too small to admit his body. +Unable to penetrate, he had recourse to his usual cunning. He +fasted three days, and became sufficiently reduced in bulk to crawl +through the small aperture. Having effected an entrance, he +carelessly roved about in this delightful region, making free with +its exquisite produce and feasting on its more rare and delicious +fruits. He remained for some time, and glutted his appetite, when a +thought occurred to him that it was possible he might be observed, +and in that case he should pay dearly for his feast. He therefore +retired to the place where he had entered, and attempted to get +out, but to his great consternation he found his endeavours vain. +He had by indulgence grown so fat and plump that the same space +would no more admit him. “I am in a fine predicament,” +said he to himself. “Suppose the master of the garden were +now to come and call me to account, what would become of me? I see +my only chance of escape is to fast and half starve myself.” +He did so with great reluctance, and after suffering hunger for +three days, he with difficulty made his escape. As soon as he was +out of danger, he took a farewell view of the scene of his late +pleasure, and said: “O garden! thou art indeed charming, and +delightful are thy fruits—delicious and exquisite; but of +what <span class="pagenum"><a id="page243" name="page243"></a>[pg +243]</span>benefit art thou to me? What have I now for all my +labour and cunning? Am I not as lean as I was +before?”—It is even so with man, remarks the Talmudist. +Naked he comes into the world—naked must he go out of it, and +of all his toils and labour he can carry nothing with him save the +fruits of his righteousness.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">From fables to parables the transition is +easy; and many of those found in the Talmud are exceedingly +beautiful, and are calculated to cause even the most thoughtless to +reflect upon his way of life. Let us first take the parable of the +Desolate Island, one of those adapted by the monkish compilers of +European mediæval tales, to which reference has been made in +the preceding sections:</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Desolate Island.</h4> +<p>A very wealthy man, who was of a kind, benevolent disposition, +desired to make his slave happy. He therefore gave him his freedom, +and presented him with a shipload of merchandise. “Go,” +said he, “sail to different countries; dispose of these +goods, and that which thou mayest receive for them shall be thy +own.” The slave sailed away upon the broad ocean, but before +he had been long on his voyage a storm overtook him, his ship was +driven on a rock and went to pieces; all on board were +lost—all save this slave, who swam to an island near by. Sad, +despondent, with nothing in this world, he traversed this island +until he approached a large and beautiful city, and <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page244" name="page244"></a>[pg 244]</span>many +people approached him, joyously shouting: “Welcome! welcome! +Long live the king!” They brought a rich carriage, and, +placing him therein, escorted him to a magnificent palace, where +many servants gathered about him—clothing him in royal +garments, and addressing him as their sovereign, and expressing +their obedience to his will. The slave was amazed and dazzled, +believing that he was dreaming, and that all he saw, heard, and +experienced was mere passing fantasy. Becoming convinced of the +reality of his condition, he said to some men about him, for whom +he entertained a friendly feeling: “How is this? I cannot +understand it. That you should thus elevate and honour a man whom +you know not—a poor, naked wanderer, whom you have never seen +before—making him your ruler—causes me more wonder than +I can readily express.” “Sire,” they replied, +“this island is inhabited by spirits. Long since they prayed +to God to send them yearly a son of man to reign over them, and he +has answered their prayers. Yearly he sends them a son of man, whom +they receive with honour and elevate to the throne; but his dignity +and power end with the year. With its close the royal garments are +taken from him, he is placed on board a ship, and carried to a vast +and desolate island, where, unless he has previously been wise and +prepared for the day, he will find neither friend nor subject, and +be obliged to pass a weary, lonely, miserable life. Then a new king +is selected here, and so year follows year. The kings who preceded +thee were careless and <span class="pagenum"><a id="page245" name= +"page245"></a>[pg 245]</span>indifferent, enjoying their power to +the full, and thinking not of the day when it should end. Be wise, +then. Let our words find rest within thy heart.” The +newly-made king listened attentively to all this, and felt grieved +that he should have lost even the time he had already spent for +making preparations for his loss of power. He addressed the wise +man who had spoken, saying: “Advise me, O spirit of wisdom, +how I may prepare for the days which will come upon me in the +future.” “Naked thou camest to us,” replied the +other, “and naked thou wilt be sent to the desolate island, +of which I have told thee. At present thou art king, and mayest do +as pleaseth thee; therefore, send workmen to this island, let them +build houses, till the ground, and beautify the surroundings. The +barren soil will be changed into fruitful fields, people will +journey thither to live, and thou wilt have established a new +kingdom for thyself, with subjects to welcome thee in gladness when +thou shalt have lost thy power here. The year is short, the work is +long; therefore be earnest and energetic.” The king followed +this advice. He sent workmen and materials to the desolate island, +and before the close of his temporary power it had become a +blooming, pleasant, and attractive spot. The rulers who had +preceded him had anticipated the close of their power with dread, +or smothered all thought of it in revelry; but he looked forward to +it as a day of joy, when he should enter upon a career of permanent +peace and happiness. The day came; <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page246" name="page246"></a>[pg 246]</span>the freed slave who had +been made a king was deprived of his authority; with his power he +lost his royal garments; naked he was placed upon a ship, and its +sails were set for the desolate island. When he approached its +shores, however, the people whom he had sent there came to meet him +with music, song, and great joy. They made him a prince among them, +and he lived ever after in pleasantness and peace.</p> +<p>The Talmudist thus explains this beautiful parable of the +Desolate Island: The wealthy man of kindly disposition is God, and +the slave to whom he gave freedom is the soul which he gives to +man. The island at which the slave arrives is the world: naked and +weeping he appears to his parents, who are the inhabitants that +greet him warmly and make him their king. The friends who tell him +of the ways of the country are his good inclinations. The year of +his reign is his span of life, and the desolate island is the +future world, which he must beautify by good deeds—the +workmen and materials—or else live lonely and desolate for +ever.<a href="#fn_91" id="fnm_91" name= +"fnm_91"><sup>91</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page247" name="page247"></a>[pg +247]</span>Closely allied to the foregoing is the characteristic +Jewish parable of</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Man and his Three Friends.</h4> +<p>A certain man had three friends, two of whom he loved dearly, +but the other he lightly esteemed. It happened one day that the +king commanded his presence at court, at which he was greatly +alarmed, and wished to procure an advocate. Accordingly he went to +the two friends whom he loved: one flatly refused to accompany him, +the other offered to go with him as far as the king’s gate, +but no farther. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page248" name= +"page248"></a>[pg 248]</span>In his extremity he called upon the +third friend, whom he least esteemed, and he not only went +willingly with him, but so ably defended him before the king that +he was acquitted. In like manner, says the Talmudist, every man has +three friends when Death summons him to appear before his Creator. +His first friend, whom he loves most, namely, his <em>money</em>, +cannot go with him a single step; his second, <em>relations</em> +and <em>neighbours</em>, can only accompany him to the grave, but +cannot defend him before the Judge; while his third friend, whom he +does not highly esteem, the <em>law</em> and his <em>good +works</em>, goes with him before the king, and obtains his +acquittal.<a href="#fn_92" id="fnm_92" name= +"fnm_92"><sup>92</sup></a></p> +<p class="spacedTop">Another striking and impressive parable akin +to the two immediately preceding is this of</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Garments.</h4> +<p>A king distributed amongst his servants various costly garments. +Now some of these servants were wise and some were foolish. And +those that were wise said to themselves: “The king may call +again for the garments; let us therefore take care they do not get +soiled.” But the fools took no manner of care of theirs, and +did all sorts of work in them, so that they became full of spots +and grease. Some time afterwards the king called for the garments. +The wise servants brought theirs clean and neat, but the foolish +servants brought theirs in a sad state, ragged <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page249" name="page249"></a>[pg 249]</span>and +unclean. The king was pleased with the first, and said: “Let +the clean garments be placed in the treasury, and let their keepers +depart in peace. As for the unclean garments, they must be washed +and purified, and their foolish keepers must be cast into +prison.”—This parable is designed to illustrate the +passage in Eccles., xii, 7, “Then shall the dust return to +the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return unto God, who gave +it”; which words “teach us to remember that God gave us +the soul in a state of innocence and purity, and that it is +therefore our duty to return it unto him in the same state as he +gave it unto us—pure and undefiled.”</p> +<h4 class="tale">Solomon's Choice</h4> +<p>of Wisdom, in preference to all other precious things, is thus +finely illustrated: A certain king had an officer whom he fondly +loved. One day he desired his favourite to choose anything that he +could give, and it would at once be granted him. The officer +considered that if he asked the king for gold and silver and +precious stones, these would be given him in abundance; then he +thought that if he had a more exalted station it would be granted; +at last he resolved to ask the king for his daughter, since with +such a bride both riches and honours would also be his. In like +manner did Solomon pray, “Give thy servant an understanding +heart,” when the Lord said to him, “What shall I give +thee?” (1st Kings, iii, 5, 9.)</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page250" name="page250"></a>[pg +250]</span>But perhaps the most beautiful and touching of all the +Talmudic parables is the following (Polano’s version), in +which Israel is likened to a bride, waiting sadly, yet hopefully, +for the coming of her spouse:</p> +<h4 class="tale">Bride and Bridegroom.</h4> +<p>There was once a man who pledged his dearest faith to a maiden +beautiful and true. For a time all passed pleasantly, and the +maiden lived in happiness. But then the man was called from her +side, and he left her. Long she waited, but still he did not +return. Friends pitied her, and rivals mocked her; tauntingly they +pointed to her and said: “He has left thee, and will never +come back.” The maiden sought her chamber, and read in secret +the letters which her lover had written to her—the letters in +which he promised to be ever faithful, ever true. Weeping, she read +them, but they brought comfort to her heart; she dried her eyes and +doubted not. A joyous day dawned for her: the man she loved +returned, and when he learned that others had doubted, while she +had not, he asked her how she had preserved her faith; and she +showed his letters to him, declaring her eternal trust. [In like +manner] Israel, in misery and captivity, was mocked by the nations; +her hopes of redemption were made a laughing-stock; her sages +scoffed at; her holy men derided. Into her synagogues, into her +schools, went Israel. She read the letters which her God had +written, and believed in the holy promises which <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page251" name="page251"></a>[pg 251]</span>they +contained. God will in time redeem her; and when he says: +“How could you alone be faithful of all the mocking +nations?” she will point to the law and answer: “Had +not thy law been my delight, I should long since have perished in +my affliction.”<a href="#fn_93" id="fnm_93" name= +"fnm_93"><sup>93</sup></a></p> +<p class="spacedTop">In the account of the Call of Abraham given in +the Book of Genesis, xii, 1-3, we are not told that his people were +all idolaters; but in the Book of Joshua, xxiv, 1-2, it is said +that the great successor of Moses, when he had “waxed old and +was stricken with age,” assembled the tribes of Israel, at +Shechem, and said to the people: “Your fathers dwelt on the +other side of the flood in old time, even Terah, the father of +Abraham and the father of Nachor; and they served other +gods.” The sacred narrative does not state the circumstances +which induced Abraham to turn away from the worship of false +deities, but the information is furnished by the +Talmudists—possibly from ancient oral tradition—in this +interesting tale of</p> +<h4 class="tale">Abraham and the Idols.</h4> +<p>Abraham’s father Terah, who dwelt in Ur of the Chaldees, +was not only an idolater, but a maker of idols. Having occasion to +go a journey of some <span class="pagenum"><a id="page252" name= +"page252"></a>[pg 252]</span>distance, he instructed Abraham how to +conduct the business of idol-selling during his absence. The future +founder of the Hebrew nation, however, had already obtained a +knowledge of the true and living God, and consequently held the +practice of idolatry in the utmost abhorrence. Accordingly, +whenever any one came to buy an idol Abraham inquired his age, and +upon his answering, “I am fifty (or sixty) years old,” +he would exclaim, “Woe to the man of fifty who would worship +the work of man’s hands!” and his father’s +customers went away shamefaced at the rebuke. But, not content with +this mode of showing his contempt for idolatry, Abraham resolved to +bring matters to a crisis before his father returned home; and an +opportunity was presented for his purpose one day when a woman came +to Terah’s house with a bowl of fine flour, which she desired +Abraham to place as a votive offering before the idols. Instead of +doing this, however, Abraham took a hammer and broke all the idols +into fragments excepting the largest, into whose hands he then +placed the hammer. On Terah’s return he discovered the +destruction of his idols, and angrily demanded of Abraham, who had +done the mischief. “There came hither a woman,” replied +Abraham, “with a bowl of fine flour, which, as she desired, I +set before the gods, whereupon they disputed among themselves who +should eat first, and the tallest god broke all the rest into +pieces with the hammer.” “What fable is this thou art +telling <span class="pagenum"><a id="page253" name= +"page253"></a>[pg 253]</span>me?” exclaimed Terah. “As +for the god thou speakest of, is he not the work of my own +hands?’ Did I not carve him out of the timber of the tree +which I cut down in the wilderness? How, then, could he have done +this evil? Verily <em>thou</em> hast broken my idols!” +“Consider, my father,” said Abraham, “what it is +thou sayest—that I am capable of destroying the gods which +thou dost worship!” Then Terah took and delivered him to +Nimrod, who said to Abraham: “Let us worship the fire.” +To which Abraham replied: “Rather the water that quenches the +fire.” “Well, the water.” “Rather the cloud +which carries the water.” “Well, the cloud.” +“Rather the wind that scatters the cloud.” “Well, +the wind.” “Rather man, for he endures the wind.” +“Thou art a babbler!” exclaimed Nimrod. “I +worship the fire, and will cast thee into it. Perchance the God +whom thou dost adore will deliver thee from thence.” Abraham +was accordingly thrown into a heated furnace, but God saved +him.<a href="#fn_94" id="fnm_94" name= +"fnm_94"><sup>94</sup></a></p> +<p class="spacedTop">Alexander the Great is said to have wept +because there were no more worlds for him to conquer; and truly +says the sage Hebrew King, “The grave and destruction can +never have enough, nor are the eyes <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page254" name="page254"></a>[pg 254]</span>of man ever +satisfied” (Prov. xxvii, 20), a sentiment which the following +tale, or parable, is designed to exemplify:</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Vanity of Ambition.</h4> +<p>Pursuing his journey through dreary deserts and uncultivated +ground, Alexander came at last to a small rivulet, whose waters +glided peacefully along their shelving banks. Its smooth, unruffled +surface was the image of contentment, and seemed in its silence to +say, “This is the abode of tranquility.” All was still: +not a sound was heard save soft murmuring tones which seemed to +whisper in the ear of the weary traveller, “Come, and partake +of nature’s bounty,” and to complain that such an offer +should be made in vain. To a contemplative mind, such a scene might +have suggested a thousand delightful reflections. But what charms +could it have for the soul of Alexander, whose breast was filled +with schemes of ambition and conquest; whose eye was familiarised +with rapine and slaughter; and whose ears were accustomed to the +clash of arms—to the groans of the wounded and the dying? +Onward, therefore, he marched. Yet, overcome by fatigue and hunger, +he was soon obliged to halt. He seated himself on the bank of the +river, took a draught of the water, which he found of a very fine +flavour and most refreshing. He then ordered some salt fish, with +which he was well provided, to be brought to him. These he caused +to be dipped in the stream, in order to take off <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page255" name="page255"></a>[pg 255]</span>the +briny taste, and was greatly surprised to find them emit a fine +fragrance. “Surely,” said he, “this river, which +possesses such uncommon qualities, must flow from some very rich +and happy country.”</p> +<p>Following the course of the river, he at length arrived at the +gates of Paradise. The gates were shut. He knocked, and, with his +usual impetuosity, demanded admittance. “Thou canst not be +admitted here,” exclaimed a voice from within; “this +gate is the Lord’s.” “I am the Lord—the +Lord of the earth,” rejoined the impatient chief. “I am +Alexander the Conqueror. Will you not admit <em>me</em>?” +“No,” was the answer; “here we know of no +conquerors, save such as conquer their passions: <em>None but the +just can enter here</em>.” Alexander endeavoured in vain to +enter the abode of the blessed—neither entreaties nor menaces +availed. Seeing all his attempts fruitless, he addressed himself to +the guardian of Paradise, and said: “You know I am a great +king, who has received the homage of nations. Since you will not +admit me, give me at least some token that I may show an astonished +world that I have been where no mortal has ever been before +me.” “Here, madman,” said the guardian of +Paradise—“here is something for thee. It may cure the +maladies of thy distempered soul. One glance at it may teach thee +more wisdom than thou hast hitherto derived from all thy former +instructors. Now go thy ways.”</p> +<p>Alexander took the present with avidity, and repaired to his +tent. But what was his confusion <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page256" name="page256"></a>[pg 256]</span>and surprise to find, +on examining his present, that it was nothing but a fragment of a +human skull. “And is this,” exclaimed he, “the +mighty gift that they bestow on kings and heroes? Is this the fruit +of so much toil and danger and care?” Enraged and +disappointed, he threw it on the ground. “Great king,” +said one of the learned men who were present, “do not despise +this gift. Contemptible as it may appear in thine eyes, it yet +possesses some extraordinary qualities, of which thou mayest soon +be convinced, if thou wilt but cause it to be weighed against gold +or silver.” Alexander ordered this to be done. A pair of +scales were brought. The skull was placed in one, a quantity of +gold in the other; when, to the astonishment of the beholders, the +skull over-balanced the gold. More gold was added, yet still the +skull preponderated. In short, the more gold there was put in the +one scale the lower sank that which contained the skull. +“Strange,” exclaimed Alexander, “that so small a +portion of matter should outweigh so large a mass of gold! Is there +nothing that will counterpoise it?” “Yes,” +answered the philosophers, “a very little matter will do +it.” They then took some earth and covered the skull with it, +when immediately down went the gold, and the opposite scale +ascended. “This is very extraordinary,” said Alexander, +astonished. “Can you explain this phenomenon?” +“Great king,” said the sages, “this fragment is +the socket of a human eye, which, though small in <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page257" name="page257"></a>[pg +257]</span>compass, is yet unbounded in its desires. The more it +has, the more it craves. Neither gold nor silver nor any other +earthly possession can ever satisfy it. But when it is once laid in +the grave and covered with a little earth, there is an end to its +lust and ambition.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Shakspeare’s well-known masterly +description of the Seven Ages of Man, which he puts into the mouth +of the melancholy Jaques (<em>As You Like It</em>, ii, 7), was +anticipated by Rabbi Simon, the son of Eliezer, in this Talmudic +description of</p> +<h4 class="tale">The Seven Stages of Human Life.</h4> +<p>Seven times in one verse did the author of Ecclesiastes make use +of the word <em>vanity</em>, in allusion to the seven stages of +human life.<a href="#fn_95" id="fnm_95" name= +"fnm_95"><sup>95</sup></a></p> +<p>The first commences in the first year of human existence, when +the <em>infant</em> lies like a king on a soft couch, with numerous +attendants about him, all ready to serve him, and eager to testify +their love and attachment by kisses and embraces.</p> +<p>The second commences about the age of two or three years, when +the darling <em>child</em> is permitted to crawl on the ground, +and, like an unclean animal, delights in dirt and filth.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page258" name="page258"></a>[pg +258]</span>Then at the age of ten, the thoughtless <em>boy</em>, +without reflecting on the past or caring for the future, jumps and +skips about like a young kid on the enamelled green, contented to +enjoy the present moment.</p> +<p>The fourth stage begins about the age of twenty, when the +<em>young man</em>, full of vanity and pride, begins to set off his +person by dress; and, like a young unbroken horse, prances and +gallops about in search of a wife.</p> +<p>Then comes the <em>matrimonial state</em>, when the poor +<em>man</em>, like a patient ass, is obliged, however reluctantly, +to toil and labour for a living.</p> +<p>Behold him now in the <em>parental state</em>, when surrounded +by helpless children craving his support and looking to him for +bread. He is as bold, as vigilant, and as fawning, too, as the +faithful dog; guarding his little flock, and snatching at +everything that comes in his way, in order to provide for his +offspring.</p> +<p>At last comes the final stage, when the decrepit <em>old +man</em>, like the unwieldy though most sagacious elephant, becomes +grave, sedate, and distrustful. He then also begins to hang down +his head towards the ground, as if surveying the place where all +his vast schemes must terminate, and where ambition and vanity are +finally humbled to the dust.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">But the Talmudist, in his turn, was +forestalled by Bhartrihari, an ancient Hindú sage, one of +whose <span class="pagenum"><a id="page259" name="page259"></a>[pg +259]</span>three hundred apothegms has been thus rendered into +English by Sir Monier Williams:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Now for a little while a child; and now</p> +<p>An amorous youth; then for a season turned</p> +<p>Into a wealthy householder; then, stripped</p> +<p>Of all his riches, with decrepit limbs</p> +<p>And wrinkled frame, man creeps towards the end</p> +<p>Of life’s erratic course; and, like an actor,</p> +<p>Passes behind Death’s curtain out of view.</p> +</div> +<p>Here, however, the Indian philosopher describes human life as +consisting of only four scenes; but, like our own Shakspeare, he +compares the world to a stage and man to a player. An epigram +preserved in the <i>Anthologia</i> also likens the world to a +theatre and human life to a drama:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>This life a theatre we well may call,</p> +<p class="i2">Where every actor must perform with art;</p> +<p>Or laugh it through, and make a farce of all,</p> +<p class="i2">Or learn to bear with grace a tragic part.</p> +</div> +<p>It is surely both instructive and interesting thus to discover +resemblances in thought and expression in the writings of men of +comprehensive intellect, who lived in countries and in times far +apart.</p> +<h3 class="spacedTop"><a id="Rabbi_6" name="Rabbi_6"></a>VI</h3> +<p class="small cen">WISE SAYINGS OF THE RABBIS.</p> +<p>“Concise sentences,” says Bacon, “like darts, +fly abroad and make impressions, while long discourses are flat +things, and not regarded.” And Seneca has <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page260" name="page260"></a>[pg +260]</span>remarked that “even rude and uncultivated minds +are struck, as it were, with those short but weighty sentences +which anticipate all reasoning by flashing truths upon them at +once.” Wise men in all ages seem to have been fully aware of +the advantage of condensing into pithy sentences the results of +their observations of the course of human life; and the following +selection of sayings of the Jewish Fathers, taken from the <i>Pirke +Aboth</i> (the 41st treatise of the Talmud, compiled by Nathan of +Babylon, <span class="small">A.D.</span> 200), and other sources, +will be found to be quite as sagacious as the aphorisms of the most +celebrated philosophers of India and Greece:</p> +<p>This world is like an ante-chamber in comparison with the world +to come; prepare thyself in the ante-chamber, therefore, that thou +mayest enter into the dining-room.</p> +<p>Be humble to a superior, and affable to an inferior, and receive +all men with cheerfulness.</p> +<p>Be not scornful to any, nor be opposed to all things; for there +is no man that hath not his hour, nor is there anything which hath +not its place.</p> +<p>Attempt not to appease thy neighbour in the time of his anger, +nor comfort him in the time when his dead is lying before him, nor +ask of him in the time of his vowing, nor desire to see him in the +time of his calamity.<a href="#fn_96" id="fnm_96" name= +"fnm_96"><sup>96</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page261" name="page261"></a>[pg +261]</span>Hold no man responsible for his utterances in times of +grief.</p> +<p>Who gains wisdom? He who is willing to receive instruction from +all sources. Who is rich? He who is content with his lot. Who is +deserving of honour? He who honoureth mankind. Who is the mighty +man? He who subdueth his temper.<a href="#fn_97" id="fnm_97" name= +"fnm_97"><sup>97</sup></a></p> +<p>When a liar speaks the truth, he finds his punishment in being +generally disbelieved.</p> +<p>The physician who prescribes gratuitously gives a worthless +prescription.</p> +<p>He who hardens his heart with pride softens his brains with the +same.</p> +<p>The day is short, the labour vast; but the labourers are still +slothful, though the reward is great, and the Master presseth for +despatch.<a href="#fn_98" id="fnm_98" name= +"fnm_98"><sup>98</sup></a></p> +<p>He who teacheth a child is like one who writeth on new paper; +and he who teacheth old people is like one who writeth on blotted +paper.<a href="#fn_99" id="fnm_99" name= +"fnm_99"><sup>99</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page262" name="page262"></a>[pg +262]</span>First learn and then teach.</p> +<p>Teach thy tongue to say, “I do not know.”</p> +<p>The birds of the air despise a miser.</p> +<p>If thy goods sell not in one city, take them to another.</p> +<p>Victuals prepared by many cooks will be neither cold nor +hot.<a href="#fn_100" id="fnm_100" name= +"fnm_100"><sup>100</sup></a></p> +<p>Two pieces of money in a large jar make more noise than a +hundred.<a href="#fn_101" id="fnm_101" name= +"fnm_101"><sup>101</sup></a></p> +<p>Into the well which supplies thee with water cast no +stones.<a href="#fn_102" id="fnm_102" name= +"fnm_102"><sup>102</sup></a></p> +<p>When love is intense, both find room enough upon one bench; +afterwards, they may find themselves cramped in a space of sixty +cubits.<a href="#fn_103" id="fnm_103" name= +"fnm_103"><sup>103</sup></a></p> +<p>The place honours not the man; it is the man who gives honour to +the place.</p> +<p>Few are they who see their own faults.<a href="#fn_104" id= +"fnm_104" name="fnm_104"><sup>104</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page263" name="page263"></a>[pg +263]</span>Thy friend has a friend, and thy friend’s friend +has a friend: be discreet.<a href="#fn_105" id="fnm_105" name= +"fnm_105"><sup>105</sup></a></p> +<p>Poverty sits as gracefully upon some people as a red saddle upon +a white horse.</p> +<p>Rather be thou the tail among lions than the head among +foxes.<a href="#fn_106" id="fnm_106" name= +"fnm_106"><sup>106</sup></a></p> +<p>The thief who finds no opportunity to steal considers himself an +honest man.</p> +<p>Use thy noble vase to-day, for to-morrow it may perchance be +broken.</p> +<p>Descend a step in choosing thy wife; ascend a step in choosing +thy friend.</p> +<p>A myrtle even in the dust remains a myrtle.<a href="#fn_107" id= +"fnm_107" name="fnm_107"><sup>107</sup></a></p> +<p>Every one whose wisdom exceedeth his deeds, to what is he like? +To a tree whose branches are many and its roots few; and the wind +cometh and plucketh it up, and overturneth it on its face.<a href= +"#fn_108" id="fnm_108" name="fnm_108"><sup>108</sup></a></p> +<p>If a word spoken in time be worth one piece of money, silence in +its place is worth two.<a href="#fn_109" id="fnm_109" name= +"fnm_109"><sup>109</sup></a></p> +<p>Silence is the fence round wisdom.<a href="#fn_110" id="fnm_110" +name="fnm_110"><sup>110</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page264" name="page264"></a>[pg +264]</span>A saying ascribed to Esop has been frequently cited with +admiration. The sage Chilo asked Esop what God was doing, and he +answered that he was “depressing the proud and exalting the +humble.” A parallel to this is presented in the answer of +Rabbi Jose to a woman who asked him what God had been doing since +the creation: “He makes ladders on which he causes the poor +to ascend and the rich to descend,” in other words, exalts +the lowly and humbles the haughty.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">The lucid explanation of the expression, +“I, God, am a jealous God,” given by a Rabbi, has been +thus elegantly translated by Coleridge:<a href="#fn_111" id= +"fnm_111" name="fnm_111"><sup>111</sup></a></p> +<p>“Your God,” said a heathen philosopher to a Hebrew +Rabbi, “in his Book calls himself a jealous God, who can +endure no other god besides himself, and on all occasions makes +manifest his abhorrence of idolatry. How comes it, then, that he +threatens and seems to hate the worshippers of false gods more than +the false gods themselves?”</p> +<p>“A certain king,” said the Rabbi, “had a +disobedient son. Among other worthless tricks of various kinds, he +had the baseness to give his dogs his father’s names and +titles. Should the king show anger with the prince or his +dogs?”</p> +<p>“Well-turned,” replied the philosopher; but if God +destroyed the objects of idolatry, he would take away the +temptation to it.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page265" name="page265"></a>[pg +265]</span>“Yea,” retorted the Rabbi; “if the +fools worshipped such things only as were of no farther use than +that to which their folly applied them—if the idol were +always as worthless as the idolatry is contemptible. But they +worship the sun, the moon, the host of heaven, the rivers, the sea, +fire, air, and what not. Would you that the Creator, for the sake +of those fools, should ruin his own works, and disturb the laws +applied to nature by his own wisdom? If a man steal grain and sow +it, should the seed not shoot up out of the earth because it was +stolen? O no! The wise Creator lets nature run its own course, for +its course is his own appointment. And what if the children of +folly abuse it to evil? The day of reckoning is not far off, and +men will then learn that human actions likewise reappear in their +consequences by as certain a law as that which causes the green +blade to rise up out of the buried cornfield.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Not less conclusive was the form of +illustration employed by Rabbi Joshuah in answer to the emperor +Trajan. “You teach,” said Trajan, “that your God +is everywhere. I should like to see him.” “God’s +presence,” replied the Rabbi, “is indeed everywhere, +but he cannot be seen. No mortal can behold his glory.” +Trajan repeated his demand. “Well,” said the Rabbi, +“suppose we try, in the first place, to look at one of his +ambassadors.” The emperor consented, and Joshuah took him +into the open air, and desired him to look at the sun in its +meridian splendour. “I <span class="pagenum"><a id="page266" +name="page266"></a>[pg 266]</span>cannot,” said Trajan; +“the light dazzles me.” “Thou canst not endure +the light of one of his creatures,” said the Rabbi, +“yet dost thou expect to behold the effulgent glory of the +Creator!”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Our selections from the sayings of the Hebrew +Fathers might be largely extended, but we shall conclude them with +the following: A Rabbi, being asked why God dealt out manna to the +Israelites day by day, instead of giving them a supply sufficient +for a year, or more, answered by a parable to this effect: There +was once a king who gave a certain yearly allowance to his son, +whom he saw, in consequence, but once a year, when he came to +receive it; so the king changed his plan, and paid him his +allowance daily, and thus had the pleasure of seeing his son each +day. And so with the manna: had God given the people a supply for a +year they would have forgotten their divine benefactor, but by +sending them each day the requisite quantity, they had God +constantly in their minds.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">There can be no doubt that the Rabbis derived +the materials of many of their legends and tales of Biblical +characters from foreign sources; but their beautiful moral stories +and parables, which “hide a rich truth in a tale’s +pretence,” are probably for the most part of their own +invention; and the fact that the Talmud was partially, if not +wholly, translated into Arabic shortly after the settlement of the +Moors <span class="pagenum"><a id="page267" name="page267"></a>[pg +267]</span>in Spain sufficiently accounts for the early +introduction of rabbinical legends into Muhammedan works, apart +from those found in the Kurán.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<h3 class="note">ADDITIONAL NOTES.</h3> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Rabbi_N_1" name="Rabbi_N_1"></a>ADAM AND +THE OIL OF MERCY.</h4> +<p>In the apocryphal Revelation of Moses, which appears to be of +Rabbinical extraction, Adam, when near his end, informs his sons; +that, because of his transgression, God had laid upon his body +seventy strokes, or plagues. The trouble of the first stroke was +injury to the eyes; the trouble of the second stroke, of the +hearing; and so on, in succession, all the strokes should overtake +him. And Adam, thus speaking to his sons, groaned out loud, and +said, “What shall I do? I am in great grief.” And Eve +also wept, saying: “My lord Adam, arise; give me the half of +thy disease, and let me bear it, because through me this has +happened to thee; through me thou art in distresses and +troubles.” And Adam said to Eve: “Arise, and go with +our son Seth near Paradise, and put earth upon your heads, and +weep, beseeching the Lord that he may have compassion upon me, and +send his angel to Paradise, and give me of the tree out of which +flows the oil, that thou mayest bring it unto me; and I shall +anoint myself and have rest, and show thee the manner in which we +were deceived at first.”… And Seth went with his +mother Eve near Paradise, and they wept there, beseeching God to +send his angel to give them the Oil of Compassion. And God sent to +them the archangel Michael, who said to them these words: +“Seth, man of God, do not weary thyself praying in this +supplication about the tree from which flows the oil to anoint thy +father Adam; for it will not happen to thee now, but at the last +times…. Do thou again go to thy father, since the measure of +his life is fulfilled, saving three days.”</p> +<p>The Revelation, or Apocalypse, of Moses, remarks Mr. Alex. +Walker (from whose translation the foregoing is extracted: +<i>Apocryphal Gospels, Acts, and Revelations</i>, 1870), +“belongs rather to the Old Testament than to the New. We have +been unable to find in it any reference to any Christian writing. +In its form, too, it appears to be a portion of some larger work. +Parts of it at least are of an ancient date, as it is very likely +from this source that the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page268" +name="page268"></a>[pg 268]</span>celebrated legend of the Tree of +Life and the Oil of Mercy was derived”—an account of +which, from the German of Dr. Piper, is given in the <i>Journal of +Sacred Literature</i>, October, 1864, vol. vi (<span class= +"small">N.S.</span>), p. 30 ff.</p> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Rabbi_N_2" name="Rabbi_N_2"></a>MUSLIM +LEGEND OF ADAM’S PUNISHMENT, PARDON, DEATH, AND BURIAL.</h4> +<p>When “our first parents” were expelled from +Paradise, Adam fell upon the mountain in Ceylon which still retains +his name (“Adam’s Peak”), while Eve descended at +Júddah, which is the port of Mecca, in Arabia. Seated on the +pinnacle of the highest mountain in Ceylon, with the orisons of the +angelic choirs still vibrating in his ears, the fallen progenitor +of the human race had sufficient leisure to bewail his guilt, +forbearing all food and sustenance for the space of forty +days.<a href="#fn_112" id="fnm_112" name= +"fnm_112"><sup>112</sup></a> But Allah, whose mercy ever surpasses +his indignation, and who sought not the death of the wretched +penitent, then despatched to his relief the angel Gabriel, who +presented him with a quantity of wheat, taken from that fatal +tree<a href="#fn_113" id="fnm_113" name= +"fnm_113"><sup>113</sup></a> for which he had defied the wrath of +his Creator, with the information that it was to be for food to him +and to his children. At the same time he was directed to set it in +the earth, and afterwards to grind it into flour. Adam obeyed, for +it was part of his penalty that he should toil for sustenance; and +the same day the corn sprang up and arrived at maturity, thus +affording him an immediate resource against the evils of hunger and +famine. For the benevolent archangel did not quit him until he had +farther taught him how to construct a mill on the side of the +mountain, to grind his corn, and also how to convert the flour into +dough and bake it into bread.</p> +<p>With regard to the forlorn associate of his guilt, from whom a +long and painful separation constituted another article in the +punishment of his disobedience, it is briefly related that, +experiencing also for the first time the craving of hunger, she +instinctively dipped her hand into the sea and brought out a fish, +and laying it on a rock in the sun, thus prepared her first meal in +this her state of despair and destitution.</p> +<p>Adam continued to deplore his guilt on the mountain for a period +of one hundred years, and it is said that from his tears, with +which <span class="pagenum"><a id="page269" name="page269"></a>[pg +269]</span>he moistened the earth during this interval of remorse, +there grew up that useful variety of plants and herbs which in +after times by their medicinal qualities served to alleviate the +afflictions of the human race; and to this circumstance is to be +ascribed the fact that the most useful drugs in the <em>materia +medica</em> continue to this day to be supplied from the peninsula +of India and the adjoining islands. The angel Gabriel had now tamed +the wild ox of the field, and Allah himself had discovered to Adam +in the caverns of the same mountain that most important of +minerals, iron, which he soon learned to fashion into a variety of +articles necessary to the successful prosecution of his increasing +labours. At the termination of one hundred years, consumed in toil +and sorrow, Adam having been instructed by the angel Gabriel in a +penitential formula by which he might hope yet to conciliate Allah, +the justice of Heaven was satisfied, and his repentance was finally +accepted by the Most High. The joy of Adam was now as intense as +his previous sorrow had been extreme, and another century passed, +during which the tears with which Adam—from very different +emotions—now bedewed the earth were not less effectual in +producing every species of fragrant and aromatic flower and shrub, +to delight the eye and gratify the sense of smell by their odours, +than they were formerly in the generation of medicinal plants to +assuage the sufferings of humanity.</p> +<p>Tradition has ascribed to Adam a stature so stupendous that when +he stood or walked his forehead brushed the skies; and it is stated +that he thus partook in the converse of the angels, even after his +fall. But this, by perpetually holding to his view the happiness +which he had lost, instead of alleviating, contributed in a great +degree to aggravate his misery, and to deprive him of all repose +upon earth. Allah, therefore, in pity of his sufferings, shortened +his stature to one hundred cubits, so that the harmony of the +celestial hosts should no longer reach his ear.</p> +<p>Then Allah caused to be raised up for Adam a magnificent +pavilion, or temple, constructed entirely of rubies, on the spot +which is now occupied by the sacred Kaába at Mecca, and +which is in the centre of the earth and immediately beneath the +throne of Allah. The forlorn Eve—whom Adam had almost +forgotten amidst his own sorrows—in the course of her weary +wanderings came to the palace of her spouse, and, once more united, +they returned to Ceylon. But Adam revisited the sacred pavilion at +Mecca every year until his death. And wherever he set his foot +there arose, and exists to this day, some city, town, or village, +or other place to indicate the presence of man and of human +cultivation. The spaces <span class="pagenum"><a id="page270" name= +"page270"></a>[pg 270]</span>between his footsteps—three +days’ journey—long remained barren wilderness.</p> +<p>On the twentieth day of that disorder which terminated the +earthly existence of Adam, the divine will was revealed to him +through the angel Gabriel, that he was to make an immediate bequest +of his power as Allah’s vicegerent on earth to Shayth, or +Seth, the discreetest and most virtuous of all his sons, which +having done, he resigned his soul to the Angel of Death on the +following day. Seth buried his venerable parent on the summit of +the mountain in Ceylon (“Adam’s Peak”); but some +writers assert that he was buried under Mount Abú Kebyss, +about three miles from Mecca. Eve died a twelvemonth after her +husband, and was buried in his grave. Noah conveyed their remains +in the ark, and afterwards interred them in Jerusalem, at the spot +afterwards known as Mount Calvary.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">The foregoing is considerably abridged from +<i>An Essay towards the History of Arabia, antecedent to the Birth +of Mahommed, arranged from the ‘Tarikh Tebry’ and other +authentic sources</i>, by Major David Price, London, 1824, pp. 4, +11.—We miss in this curious legend the brief but pathetic +account of the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden, +as found in the last two verses of the 3rd chapter of Genesis, +which suggested to Milton the fine conclusion of his <i>Paradise +Lost</i>: how “some natural tears they dropped,” as the +unhappy pair went arm-in-arm out of Paradise—and “the +world was all before them, where to choose.” Adam’s +prolonged residence at the top of a high mountain in Ceylon seems +to be of purely Muhammedan invention; and assuredly the Arabian +Prophet did not obtain from the renegade Jew who is said to have +assisted him in the composition of the Kurán the +“information” that Allah taught Adam the mystery of +working in iron, since in the Book of Genesis (iv, 22) it is stated +that Tubal-cain was “an instructor of every artificer in +brass and iron,” as his brother Jubal was “the father +of all such as handle the harp and the organ” (21).—The +disinterment of the bones of Adam and Eve by Noah before the Flood +began and their subsequent burial at the spot on which Jerusalem +was afterwards built, as also the stature of Adam, are, of course, +derived from Jewish tradition.</p> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Rabbi_N_3" name="Rabbi_N_3"></a>MOSES AND +THE POOR WOODCUTTER.</h4> +<p>The following interesting legend is taken from Mrs. Meer Hassan +Ali’s <i>Observations on the Mussulmans of India</i> (1832), +vol. i, pp. 170-175. It was translated by her husband (an Indian +Muslim) from a <span class="pagenum"><a id="page271" name= +"page271"></a>[pg 271]</span>commentary on the history of +Músa, or Moses, the great Hebrew lawgiver, and in all +probability is of rabbinical origin:</p> +<p>When the prophet Músa—to whose spirit be +peace!—was on earth, there lived near him a poor but +remarkably religious man, who had for many years supported himself +and his wife by the daily occupation of cutting wood for his richer +neighbours, four small copper coins being the reward of his toil, +which at best afforded the poor couple but a scanty meal after his +day’s exertions. One morning the Prophet Músa, passing +the woodcutter, was thus addressed: “O Músa! Prophet +of the Most High! behold I labour each day for my coarse and scanty +meal. May it please thee, O Prophet! to make petition for me to our +gracious God, that he may, in his mercy, grant me at once the whole +supply for my remaining years, so that I shall enjoy one day of +earthly happiness, and then, with my wife, be transferred to the +place of eternal rest.” Músa promised, and made the +required petition. His prayer was thus answered from Mount Tor: +“This man’s life is long, O Músa! Nevertheless, +if he be willing to surrender life when his supply is exhausted, +tell him thy prayer is heard, the petition accepted, and the whole +amount shall be found beneath his prayer-carpet after his morning +prayers.”</p> +<p>The woodcutter was satisfied when Músa told him the +result of his petition, and, the first duties of the morning being +performed, he failed not in looking for the promised gift, and to +his surprise found a heap of silver coins in the place indicated. +Calling his wife, he told her what he had acquired of the Lord +through his holy prophet Músa, and they both agreed that it +was very good to enjoy a short life of happiness on earth and +depart in peace; although they could not help again and again +recurring to the number of years on earth they had thus sacrificed. +“We will make as many hearts rejoice as this the Lord’s +gift will permit,” they both agreed; “and thus we shall +secure in our future state the blessed abode promised to those who +fulfil the commands of God in this life, since to-morrow it must +close for us.”</p> +<p>The day was spent in procuring and preparing provisions for the +feast. The whole sum was expended on the best sorts of food, and +the poor were made acquainted with the rich treat the woodcutter +and his wife were cooking for their benefit. The food being cooked, +allotments were made to each hungry applicant, and the couple +reserved to themselves one good substantial meal, which was to be +eaten only after the poor were all served and satisfied. It +happened at the very moment they were seated to enjoy this their +last meal, as they believed, a voice was heard, saying: “O +friend! I have heard of your feast; I am late, yet it may be that +you have still a little <span class="pagenum"><a id="page272" name= +"page272"></a>[pg 272]</span>to spare, for I am hungry to my very +heart. The blessing of God be on him who relieves my present +sufferings from hunger!” The woodcutter and his wife agreed +that it would be much better for them to go to Paradise with half a +meal than to leave one fellow creature famishing on earth. So they +shared their own portion with him who had none, and he went away +from them rejoicing. “Now,” said the happy pair, +“we shall eat of our half-share with unmixed delight, and +with thankful hearts. By to-morrow evening we shall be transferred +to Paradise.”</p> +<p>They had scarcely raised the savoury food to their mouths when a +bewailing voice arrested their attention, and stayed the hands +already charged with food. A poor creature who had not tasted food +for two days moaned his piteous tale, in accents which drew tears +from the woodcutter and his wife; their eyes met and the sympathy +was mutual: they were more willing to depart for Paradise without +the promised benefit of one earthly enjoyment, than suffer the +hungry man to die from want of that meal they had before them. The +dish was promptly tendered to the unfortunate one, and the +woodcutter and his wife consoled each other with reflecting that, +as the time of their departure was now so near at hand, the +temporary enjoyment of a meal was not worth one moment’s +consideration: “To-morrow we die; then of what consequence is +it to us whether we depart with full or empty stomachs?”</p> +<p>And now their thoughts were set on the place of eternal rest. +They slept, and arose to their morning orisons with hearts reposing +humbly on their God, in the fullest expectation that this was their +last day on earth. The prayer was concluded, and the woodcutter was +in the act of rolling up his carpet, on which he had prostrated +himself with gratitude, reverence, and love to his Creator, when he +perceived a fresh heap of silver on the floor. He could scarcely +believe but it was a dream. “How wonderful art thou, O +God!” cried he. “This is thy bounteous gift, that I may +indeed enjoy one day before I quit this earth.” And +Músa, when he came to him, was satisfied with the goodness +and the power of God. But he retired again to the Mount, to inquire +of God the cause of the woodcutter’s respite. The reply which +Músa received was as follows: “That man has faithfully +applied the wealth given in answer to his petition. He is worthy to +live out his numbered years on earth who, receiving my bounty, +thought not of his own enjoyments whilst his fellow men had wants +which he could supply.” And to the end of the +wood-cutter’s long life God’s bounty lessened not in +substance; neither did the pious man relax in his charitable duties +of sharing with the indigent all that he had, and with the same +disregard of his own enjoyments.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page273" name="page273"></a>[pg +273]</span></p> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Rabbi_N_4" name="Rabbi_N_4"></a>PRECOCIOUS +SAGACITY OF SOLOMON.</h4> +<p>Commentators on the Kurán state that while Solomon was +still a mere youth he frequently upset the decisions of the judges +in open court, and they became displeased with his interference, +though they could not but confess to themselves that his judgment +was always superior to theirs. Having prevailed upon King David to +permit the sagacity of his son to be publicly tested, they plied +him with what they deemed very difficult questions, which, however, +were hardly uttered before he answered them correctly, and at +length they became silent and shame-faced. Then Solomon rose and +said (I take the paragraph which follows from the English +translation of Dr. Weil’s interesting work, <i>The Bible, the +Korán, and the Talmud</i>, 1846, p. 165 f.):</p> +<p>“You have exhausted yourselves in subtleties, in the hope +of manifesting your superiority over me before this great assembly. +Permit me now also to put to you a very few simple questions, the +solution of which needs no manner of study, but only a little +intellect and understanding. Tell me: What is Everything, and what +is Nothing? Who is Something, and who is less than Nothing?” +Solomon waited long, and when the judge whom he had addressed was +not able to answer, he said: “Allah, the Creator, is +Everything, and the world, the creature, is Nothing. The believer +is Something, but the hypocrite is less than Nothing.” +Turning to another, Solomon inquired: “Which are the most in +number, and which are the fewest? What is the sweetest, and what is +the most bitter?” But as the second judge also was unable to +find proper answers to these questions, Solomon said: “The +most numerous are the doubters, and they who possess a perfect +assurance of faith are fewest in number. The sweetest is the +possession of a virtuous wife, excellent children, and a +respectable competency; but a wicked wife, undutiful children, and +poverty are the most bitter.” Finally Solomon put this +question to a third judge: “Which is the vilest, and which is +the most beautiful? What is the most certain, and what is the least +so?” But these questions also remained unanswered until +Solomon said: “The vilest thing is when a believer +apostasises, and the most beautiful is when a sinner repents. The +most certain thing is death and the last judgment, and the most +uncertain, life and the fate of the soul after the resurrection. +You perceive,” he continued, “it is not the oldest and +most learned that are always the wisest. True wisdom is neither of +years nor of learned books, but only of Allah, the +All-wise.”</p> +<p>The judges were full of admiration, and unanimously lauded the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page274" name="page274"></a>[pg +274]</span>unparalleled sagacity of the future ruler of +Israel.—The Queen of Sheba’s “hard +questions” (already referred to, p. <a href= +"#page218">218</a>) were probably of a somewhat similar nature. +Such “wit combats” seem to have been formerly common at +the courts and palaces of Asiatic monarchs and nobles; and a +curious, but rather tedious, example is furnished in the +<i>Thousand and One Nights</i>, in the story of Abú al-Husn +and his slave Tawaddad, which will be found in vol. iv of Mr. John +Payne’s and vol. v of Sir R. F. Burton’s complete +translations.</p> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Rabbi_N_5" name="Rabbi_N_5"></a>SOLOMON AND +THE SERPENT’S PREY.</h4> +<p>A curious popular tradition of Solomon, in French verse, is +given by M. Emile Blémont in <i>La Tradition</i> (an +excellent journal of folklore, etc., published at Paris) for March +1889, p. 73: Solomon, we are informed, in very ancient times ruled +over all beings [on the earth], and, if we may believe our +ancestors, was the King of magicians. One day Man appeared before +him, praying to be delivered from the Serpent, who ever lay in wait +to devour him. “That I cannot do,” said Solomon; +“for he is my preceptor, and I have given him the privilege +to eat whatsoever he likes best.” Man responded: “Is +that so? Well, let him gorge himself without stint; but he has no +right to devour me.” “So you say,” quoth Solomon; +“but are you sure of it?” Said Man: “I call the +light to witness it; for I have the high honour of being in this +world superior to all other creatures.” At these words the +whole of the assembly [of animals] protested. “And I!” +said the Eagle, with a loud voice, as he alighted on a rock. +“Corcorico!” chanted the Cock. The Monkey was +scratching himself and admiring his grinning phiz in the water, +which served him for a looking-glass. Then the Buzzard was beside +himself [with rage]. And the Cuckoo was wailing. The Ass rolled +over and over, crying: “Heehaw! how ugly Man is!” The +Elephant stamped about with his heavy feet, his trumpet raised +towards the heavens. The Bear assumed dignified airs, while the +Peacock was showing off his wheel-like tail. And in the distance +the Lion was majestically exhaling his disdain in a long sigh.</p> +<p>Then said Solomon: “Silence! Man is right: is he not the +only beast who gets drunk at all seasons? But, to accede to his +request, as an honest prince, I ought to be able to give the +Serpent something preferable, or at least equal, to his favourite +prey. Therefore hear my decision: Let the Gnat—the smallest +of animals—find out in what creature circulates the most +exquisite blood in the world; and that creature shall belong to +you, O Serpent. And I summon <span class="pagenum"><a id="page275" +name="page275"></a>[pg 275]</span>you all to appear here, without +fail, on this day twelvemonths hence, that the Gnat may tell us the +result of his experiments.”</p> +<p>The year past, the Gnat—subtle taster—was slowly +winging his way back when he met the Swallow. “Good day, +friend Swallow,” says he. “Good day, friend +Gnat,” replies the Swallow. “Have you accomplished your +mission?” “Yes, my dear,” responded the Gnat. +“Well, what is then the most delicious blood under the +heavens?” “My dear, it is that of Man.” +“What!—of him? I haven’t heard. Speak +louder.” The Gnat was beginning to raise his voice, and +opened his mouth to speak louder, when the Swallow quickly fell +upon him and nipped off his tongue in the middle of a word. Spite +of this, the Gnat continued his way, and arrived next day at the +general assembly, where Solomon was already seated. But when the +king questioned him, he had no means of proving his zeal. Said the +king: “Give us thy report.” “Bizz! bizz! +bizz!” said the poor fellow. “Speak out, and let thy +talk be clear,” quoth the king. “Bizz! bizz! +bizz!” cried the other again. “What’s the matter +with the little stupid?” exclaimed the king, in a rage. Here +the Swallow intervened in a sweet and shrill tone: “Sire, it +is not his fault. Yesterday we were flying side by side, when +suddenly he became mute. But, by good luck, down there about the +sacred springs, before he met with this misfortune, he told me the +result of his investigations. May I depone in his name?” +“Certainly,” replied Solomon. “What is the best +blood, according to thy companion?” “Sire, it is the +blood of the Frog.”</p> +<p>Everybody was astonished: the Gnat was mad with rage. “I +hold,” said Solomon, “to all that I promised. Friend +Serpent, renounce Man henceforth—that food is bad. The Frog +is the best meat; so eat as much Frog as you please.” So the +Serpent had to submit to his deplorable lot, and I leave you to +think how the bile was stirred up within the rascally reptile. As +the Swallow was passing him—mocking and sneering—the +Serpent darted at her, but the bird swiftly passed beyond reach, +and with little effort cleft the vast blue sky and ascended more +than a league. The Serpent snapped only the end of the bird’s +tail, and that is how the Swallow’s tail is cloven to this +day; but, so far from finding it an inconvenience, she is thereby +the more lively and beautiful. And Man, knowing what he owes to +her, is full of gratitude. She has her abode under the eaves of our +houses, and good luck comes wherever she nestles. Her gay cries, +sweet and shrill, rouse the springtide. Is she not a +bird-fairy—a good angel? On the other hand, the crafty +Serpent hardly knows how to get out of the mud, and drags himself +along, climbing and climbing; <span class="pagenum"><a id="page276" +name="page276"></a>[pg 276]</span>while the Swallow, free and +light, flies in the gold of the day. For she is faithful +Friendship—the little sister of Love.</p> +<p>M. Blémont does not say in what part of France this +legend is current, but it is doubtless of Asiatic +extraction—whether Jewish or Muhammedan.</p> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Rabbi_N_6" name="Rabbi_N_6"></a>THE +CAPON-CARVER, p. <a href="#page231">231</a>.</h4> +<p>A variant of the same incident occurs in No. <span class= +"small">IV</span> of M. Emile Legrand’s <i>Receuil de Contes +Populaires Grecs</i> (Paris, 1881), where a prince sets out in +quest of some maiden acquainted with “figurative +language,” whom he would marry. He comes upon an old man and +his daughter, and overhears the latter address her father in +metaphorical terms, which she has to explain to the old man, at +which the prince is highly pleased, and following them to their hut +desires and obtains shelter for the night. “As there was not +much to eat, the old man bade them kill a cock, and when it was +roasted it was placed on the table. Then the young girl got up and +carved the fowl. She gave the head to her father; the body to her +mother; the wings to the prince; and the flesh to the children. The +old man, seeing his daughter divide the fowl in this manner, turned +and looked at his wife, for he was ashamed to speak of it before +the stranger. But when they were going to bed he said to his +daughter: ‘Why, my child, did you cut up the fowl so badly? +The stranger has gone starving to bed.’ ‘Ah, my +father,’ she replied, ‘you have not understood it; wait +till I explain: I gave the head to you, because you are the head of +this house; to my mother I gave the body, because, like the body of +a ship, she has borne us in her sides; I gave the wings to the +stranger, because to-morrow he will take his flight and go away; +and lastly, to us the children I gave the bits of flesh, because we +are the true flesh of the house. Do you understand it now, my good +father?’”—The remainder of the story is so droll +that, though but remotely related to the Capon-carver, I think it +worth while to give a translation of it:</p> +<p>“As the room wherein the girl spoke with her father was +adjacent to that in which the stranger lay, the latter heard all +that she said. Great was his joy, and he said to himself that he +would well like for wife one who could thus speak figurative +language. And when it was day he rose, took his leave, and went +away. On his return to the palace he called a servant and gave him +in a sack containing 31 loaves, a whole cheese, a cock stuffed and +roasted, and a skin of wine; and indicating to him the position of +the cabin where he had put up, told him to go there and deliver +these presents to a young girl of 18 years.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page277" name="page277"></a>[pg +277]</span>“The servant took the sack and set out to execute +the orders of his master.—But, pardon me, ladies [quoth the +story-teller], if I have forgotten to tell you this: Before setting +out, the servant was ordered by the prince to say these words to +the young girl: ‘Many, many compliments from my master. Here +is what he sends you: the month has 31 days; the moon is full; the +chorister of the dawn is stuffed and roasted; the he-goat’s +skin is stretched and full.’—The servant then went +towards the cabin, but on the way he met some friends. ‘Good +day, Michael. Where are you going with this load, and what do you +carry?’ ‘I’m going over the mountain to a cabin +where my master sends me.’ ‘And what have you got in +there? The smell of it makes our mouths water.’ ‘Look, +here are loaves, cheese, wine, and a roasted cock. It’s a +present which my master has given me to take to a poor girl.’ +‘O indeed, simpleton! Sit down, that we may eat a little. How +should thy master ever know of it?’ Down they sat on the +green mountain sward and fell-to. The more they ate the keener +their appetites grew, so that our fine fellows cleared away 13 +loaves, half the cheese, the whole cock, and nearly half the wine. +When they had eaten and drank their fill, the servant took up the +remainder and resumed his way to the cabin. Arrived, he found the +young girl, gave her the presents, and repeated the words which his +master had ordered him to say.</p> +<p>“The girl took what he brought and said to him: ‘You +shall say to your master: “Many, many compliments. I thank +him for all that he has sent me; but the month has only 18 days, +the moon is only half full, the chorister of dawn was not there, +and the he-goat’s skin is lank and loose. But, to please the +partridge, let him not beat the sow.”’ (That is to say, +there were only 18 loaves, half a cheese, no roasted cock, and the +wine-skin was scarcely half full; but that, to please the young +girl, he was not to beat the servant, who had not brought the gift +entire.)</p> +<p>“The servant left and returned to the palace. He repeated +to the prince what the young girl had said to him, except the last +clause, which he forgot. Then the prince understood all, and caused +another servant to give the rogue a good beating. When the culprit +had received such a caning that his skin and bones were sore, he +cried out: ‘Enough, prince, my master! Wait until I tell you +another thing that the young girl said to me, and I have forgotten +to tell you.’ ‘Come, what have you to say?—be +quick.’ ‘Master, the young girl added, “But, to +please the partridge, let him not beat the sow.”’ +‘Ah, blockhead!’ said the prince to him. ‘Why did +you not tell me this before? Then you would not have <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page278" name="page278"></a>[pg 278]</span>tasted +the cane. But so be it.’ A few days later the prince married +the young girl, and fêtes and great rejoicings were +held.”</p> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Rabbi_N_7" name="Rabbi_N_7"></a>THE FOX AND +THE BEAR, p. <a href="#page240">240</a>.</h4> +<p>In no other version of this fable does the Fox take a stone with +him when he enters one of the buckets and then throw it +away—nor indeed does he go into the bucket at all; he simply +induces the other animal to descend into the well, in order to +procure the “fine cheese.” La Fontaine gives a variant +of the fable, in which a fox goes down into a well with the same +purpose, and gets out by asking a wolf to come down and feast on +the “cheese”: as the wolf descends in one bucket he +draws up the fox in the other one, and so the wolf, like Lord +Ullin, is “left lamenting.”<a href="#fn_114" id= +"fnm_114" name="fnm_114"><sup>114</sup></a> M. +Bérenger-Féraud thinks this version somewhat +analogous to a fable in his French collection of popular +Senegambian Tales,<a href="#fn_115" id="fnm_115" name= +"fnm_115"><sup>115</sup></a> of the Clever Monkey and the Silly +Wolf, of which, as it is short, I may offer a free translation, as +follows:</p> +<p>A proud lion was pacing about a few steps forward, then a side +movement, then a grand stride backward. A monkey on a tree above +imitates the movements, and his antics enrage the lion, who warns +him to desist. The monkey however goes on with the caricature, and +at last falls off the tree, and is caught by the lion, who puts him +into a hole in the ground, and having covered it with a large stone +goes off to seek his mate, that they should eat the monkey +together. While he is absent a wolf comes to the spot, and is +pleased to hear the monkey cry, for he had a grudge against him. +The wolf asks why the monkey cries. “I am singing,” +says the monkey, “to aid my digestion. This is a hare’s +retreat, and we two ate so heartily this morning that I cannot +move, and the hare is gone out for some medicine. We have lots of +more food.” “Let me in,” says the wolf; “I +am a friend.” The monkey, of course, readily consents, and +just as the wolf enters he slips out, and, replacing the stone, +imprisons the wolf. By-and-by the lion and his mate come up. +“We shall have monkey to-day,” says the lion, lifting +the stone—“faith! we shall only have wolf after +all!” So the poor wolf is instantly torn into pieces, while +the clever monkey once more overhead re-enacts his +lion-pantomime.<a href="#fn_116" id="fnm_116" name= +"fnm_116"><sup>116</sup></a></p> +<p>Strange as it may appear, there is a variant of the fable of the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page279" name="page279"></a>[pg +279]</span>Fox and the Bear current among the negroes in the United +States, according to <i>Uncle Remus</i>, that most diverting +collection. In No. XVI, “Brer Rabbit” goes down in a +bucket into a well, and “Brer Fox” asks him what he is +doing there. “O I’m des a fishing, Brer Fox,” +says he; and Brer Fox goes into the bucket while Brer Rabbit +escapes and chaffs his comrade.</p> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Rabbi_N_8" name="Rabbi_N_8"></a>THE +DESOLATE ISLAND, p. <a href="#page243">243</a>.</h4> +<p>There is a tale in the <i>Gesta Romanorum</i> (ch. 74 of the +text translated by Swan) which seems to have been suggested by the +Hebrew parable of the Desolate Island, and which has passed into +general currency throughout Europe: A dying king bequeaths to his +son a golden apple, which he is to give to the greatest fool he can +find. The young prince sets out on his travels, and after meeting +with many fools, none of whom, however, he deemed worthy of the +“prize,” he comes to a country the king of which reigns +only one year, and finds him indulging in all kinds of pleasure. He +offers the king the apple, explaining the terms of his +father’s bequest, and saying that he considers him the +greatest of all fools, in not having made a proper use of his year +of sovereignty.—A common oral form of this story is to the +effect that a court jester came to the bedside of his dying master, +who told him that he was going on a very long journey, and the +jester inquiring whether he had made due preparation was answered +in the negative. “Then,” said the fool, “prithee +take my bauble, for thou art truly the greatest of all +fools.”</p> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Rabbi_N_9" name="Rabbi_N_9"></a>OTHER +RABBINICAL LEGENDS AND TALES.</h4> +<p>As analogues, or variants, of incidents in several wide-spread +European popular tales, other Hebrew legends are cited in some of +my former books; <i>e.g.</i>: The True Son, in <i>Popular Tales and +Fictions</i>, vol. i, p. 14; Moses and the Angel (the ways of +Providence: the original of Parnell’s “Hermit”), +vol. i, p. 25; a mystical hymn, “A kid, a kid, my Father +bought,” the possible original of our nursery cumulative +rhyme of “The House that Jack built,” vol. i, p. 291; +the Reward of Sabbath observance, vol. i, p. 399; the Intended +Divorce, vol. ii, p. 328, of which, besides the European variants +there cited, other versions will be found in Prof. Crane’s +<i>Italian Popular Tales</i>: “The Clever Girl” and +Notes; the Lost Camel, in <i>A Group of Eastern Romances and +Stories</i>, p. 512. In <i>Originals and Analogues of some of +Chaucer’s ‘Canterbury Tales’</i> (for the Chaucer +Society) I have cited two curious Jewish versions of the +Franklin’s <span class="pagenum"><a id="page280" name= +"page280"></a>[pg 280]</span>Tale, in the paper entitled “The +Damsel’s Rash Promise,” pp. 315, 317. A selection of +Hebrew Facetiæ is given at the end of the papers on Oriental +Wit and Humour in the present volume (p. <a href= +"#page117">117</a>); and an amusing story, also from the Talmud, is +reproduced in my <i>Book of Sindibád</i>, p. 103, +<i>note</i>, of the Athenian and the witty Tailor; and in the same +work, p. 340, <i>note</i>, reference is made to a Jewish version of +the famous tale of the Matron of Ephesus. There may be more in +these books which I cannot call to mind.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page283" name="page283"></a>[pg +283]</span></p> +<h2 class="spacedTop"><a id="Arabian" name="Arabian"></a>AN ARABIAN +TALE OF LOVE.</h2> +<div class="poem epigram"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,</p> +<p>Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend</p> +<p>More than cool reason ever comprehends.</p> +</div> +<p class="rgt"><i>Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>.</p> +</div> +<p>Every land has its favourite tale of love: in France, that of +Abelard and Eloisa, in Italy, of Petrarch and Laura; all Europe has +the touching tale of Romeo and Juliet in common; and Muslims have +the ever fresh tale of the loves and sorrows of Majnún and +Laylá. Of the ten or twelve Persian poems extant on this old +tale those by Nizámí, who died <span class= +"small">A.D.</span> 1211, and Jámí, of the 15th +century, are considered as by far the best; though +Hátifí’s version (<i>ob.</i> 1520) is highly +praised by Sir William Jones. The Turkish poet Fazúlí +(<i>ob.</i> 1562) also made this tale the basis of a fine mystical +poem, of which Mr. Gibb has given some translated +specimens—reproducing the original rhythm and rhyme-movement +very cleverly—in his <i>Ottoman Poems</i>. The following is +an epitome of the tale of Majnún and Laylá:</p> +<p>Kays (properly, Qays), the handsome son of Syd Omri, an Arab +chief of Yemen, becomes enamoured of a beauteous maiden of another +tribe: a damsel bright <span class="pagenum"><a id="page284" name= +"page284"></a>[pg 284]</span>as the moon,<a href="#fn_117" id= +"fnm_117" name="fnm_117"><sup>117</sup></a> graceful as the +cypress;<a href="#fn_118" id="fnm_118" name= +"fnm_118"><sup>118</sup></a> with locks dark as night, and hence +she was called Laylá;<a href="#fn_119" id="fnm_119" name= +"fnm_119"><sup>119</sup></a> who captivated all hearts, but chiefly +that of Kays. His passion is reciprocated, but soon the fond lovers +are separated. The family of Laylá remove to the distant +mountains of Nejd, and Kays, distracted, with matted locks and +bosom bare to the scorching sun, wanders forth into the desert in +quest of her abode, causing the rocks to echo his voice, constantly +calling upon her name. His friends, having found him in woeful +plight, bring him home, and henceforth he is called +Majnún—that is, one who is mad, or frantic, from love. +Syd Omri, his father, finding that Majnún is deaf to good +counsel—that nothing but the possession of Laylá can +restore him to his senses—assembles his followers and departs +for the abode of Laylá’s family, and presenting +himself before the maiden’s father,<span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page285" name="page285"></a>[pg +285]</span>proposes in haughty terms the union of his son with +Laylá; but the offer is declined, on the ground that Syd +Omri’s son is a maniac, and he will not give his daughter to +a man bereft of his senses; but should he be restored to his right +mind he will consent to their union. Indignant at this answer, Syd +Omri returns home, and after his friends had in vain tried the +effect of love-philtres to make Laylá’s father relent, +as a last resource they propose that Majnún should wed +another damsel, upon which the demented lover once more seeks the +desert, where they again find him almost at the point of death, and +bring him back to his tribe.</p> +<p>Now the season of pilgrimage to Mecca draws nigh, and it is +thought that a visit to the holy shrine and the waters of the +Zemzem<a href="#fn_120" id="fnm_120" name= +"fnm_120"><sup>120</sup></a> might cure his frenzy. Accordingly +Majnún, weak and helpless, is conveyed to Mecca in a litter. +Most fervently his sorrowing father prays in the Kaába for +his recovery, but all in vain, and they return home. Again +Majnún escapes to the desert, whence his love-plaints, +expressed in eloquent verse, find their way to Laylá, who +contrives to reply to them, also in verse, assuring her lover of +her own despair, and of her constancy.</p> +<p>One day a gallant young chief, Ibn Salám, chances to pass +near the dwelling of Laylá, and, seeing the beauteous maiden +among her companions, falls in love <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page286" name="page286"></a>[pg 286]</span>with her, and +straightway asks her in marriage of her parents. +Laylá’s father does not reject the handsome and +wealthy suitor, who scatters his gold about as if it were mere +sand, but desires him to wait until his daughter is of proper age +for wedlock, when the nuptials should be duly celebrated; and with +this promise Ibn Salám departs.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, Noufal, the chief in whose land Majnún has +taken up his abode, while hunting one day comes upon the wretched +lover, and, struck with his appearance, inquires the cause of his +distress. Noufal conceives a warm friendship for Majnún, and +sends a messenger to Laylá’s father to demand her in +marriage with his friend. But the damsel’s parent scornfully +refused to comply, and Noufal then marches with his followers +against him. A battle ensues, in which Noufal is victorious. The +father of Laylá then comes to Noufal, and offers submission; +but he declares that rather than consent to his daughter’s +union with Majnún he would put her to death before his face. +Seeing the old man thus resolute, Noufal abandons his enterprise +and returns to his own country.</p> +<p>And now Ibn Salám, having waited the appointed time, +comes with his tribesmen to claim the hand of Laylá; and, +spite of her tears and protestations, she is married to the wealthy +young chief. Years pass on—weary years of wedded life to poor +Laylá, whose heart is ever true to her wandering lover. At +length a stranger seeks out Majnún, and tells him that his +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page287" name="page287"></a>[pg +287]</span>beloved Laylá wishes to have a brief interview +with him, near her dwelling. At once the frantic lover speeds +towards the rendezvous; but when Laylá is informed of his +arrival, her sense of duty overcomes the passion of her life, and +she resolves to forego the dangerous meeting, and poor +Majnún departs without having seen his darling. Henceforth +he is a constant dweller in the desert, having for his companions +the beasts and birds of the wilderness—his clothes in +tatters, his hair matted, his body wasted to a shadow, his bare +feet lacerated with thorns. After the lapse of many more years the +husband of Laylá dies, and the beautiful widow passes the +prescribed period of separation (<em>’idda</em>),<a href= +"#fn_121" id="fnm_121" name="fnm_121"><sup>121</sup></a> after +which Majnún hastens to embrace his beloved. Overpowered by +the violence of their emotions, both are for a space silent; at +length Laylá addresses Majnún in tender accents; but +when he finds voice to reply it is evident that the reaction has +completely extinguished the last spark of reason: Majnún is +now a hopeless maniac, and he rushes from the arms of Laylá +and seeks the desert once more. Laylá never recovered from +the shock occasioned by this discovery. She pined away, and with +her last breath desired her mother to convey the tidings of her +death to Majnún, and to assure him of her constant, +unquenchable affection. When Majnún hears of her death he +visits her tomb, and, exhausted with his journey and many +privations, he <span class="pagenum"><a id="page288" name= +"page288"></a>[pg 288]</span>lays himself down on the turf that +covered her remains, and dies—the victim of pure, ever-during +love.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Possibly, readers of a sentimental turn—oft inclined to +the “melting” mood—may experience a kind of +pleasing sadness in perusing a rhythmical prose translation of the +passage in Nizámí’s poem in which</p> +<h4 class="tale">Majnún bewails the Death of +Laylá.</h4> +<p>When Zayd,<a href="#fn_122" id="fnm_122" name= +"fnm_122"><sup>122</sup></a> with heart afflicted, heard that in +the silent tomb that moon<a href="#fn_123" id="fnm_123" name= +"fnm_123"><sup>123</sup></a> had set, he wept and mourned, and +sadly flowed his tears. Who in this world is free from grief and +tears? Then, clothed in sable garments, like one oppressed who +seeks redress, he, agitated, and weeping like a vernal cloud, +hastened to the grave of Laylá; but, as he o’er it +hung, ask not how swelled his soul with grief; while from his eyes +the tears of blood incessant flowed, and from his sight and groans +the people fled. Sometimes he mourned with grief so deep and sad +that from his woe the sky became obscure. Then from the tomb of +that fair flower he to the desert took his way. There sought the +wanderer from the paths of man him whose night was now in darkness +veiled, as that bright lamp was gone; and, seated near him, weeping +and sighing, he beat his breast and struck upon the earth his head. +When Majnún saw him thus afflicted he said: “What has +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page289" name="page289"></a>[pg +289]</span>befallen thee, my brother, that thy soul is thus +overpowered? and why so pale that cheek? and why these sable +robes?” He thus replied: “Because that fortune now has +changed: a sable stream has issued from the earth, and even death +has burst its iron gates; a storm of hail has on the garden poured, +and not a leaf of all our rose-bower now remains. The moon has +fallen from the firmament, and prostrate on the mead that waving +cypress lies! Laylá was, but from the world has now +departed; and from the wound thy love had caused she +died.”</p> +<p>Scarce had these accents reached his listening ear e’er, +senseless, Majnún fell as one by lightning struck. A short +time, fainting, thus he lay; recovered, then he raised his head to +heaven and thus exclaimed: “O merciless! what fate severe is +this on one so helpless? Why such wrath? Why blast a blade of grass +with lightning, and on the ant [<i>i.e.</i> himself] thy power +exert? One ant and a thousand pains of hell, when one single spark +would be enough! Why thus with blood the goblet crown, and all my +hopes deceive? I burned with flames that by that lamp were fed; and +by that breath which quenched its light I too expire.” Thus, +like Asra, did he complain, and, like Wamik, traversed on every +side the desert,<a href="#fn_124" id="fnm_124" name= +"fnm_124"><sup>124</sup></a> his heart broken, and his garments +rent; while, as the beasts gazed on him, his tears so constant +flowed, that in their <span class="pagenum"><a id="page290" name= +"page290"></a>[pg 290]</span>eyes the tear-drop stood; and like a +shadow Zayd his footsteps still pursued. When, weeping and +mourning, Majnún thus o’er many a hill and many a vale +had passed, as grief his path directed, he wished to view the tomb +of all he loved; and then inquired of Zayd where was the spot that +held her grave, and where the turf that o’er it grew.</p> +<p>But soon as to the tomb he came, struck with its view, his +senses fled. Recovering, then he thus exclaimed: “O Heaven! +what shall I do, or what resource attempt, as like a lamp I waste +away? Alas! that heart-enslaver was all that in this world I +prized: and now, alas! in wrath, dire Fate with ruthless blow has +snatched her from me. In my hand I held a lovely flower; the wind +came and scattered all its leaves. I chose a cypress that in the +garden graceful grew; but soon the wind of fate destroyed it. +Spring bade a blossom bloom; but Fortune would not guard the +flower. A group of lilies I preserved, pure as the thoughts that in +my bosom rose; but one unjust purloined them. I sowed, but he the +harvest reaped.”</p> +<p>Then, resting within the tomb his head, he mourning wept, and +said: “O lovely floweret, struck by autumn’s blast, and +from this world departed ere thou knewest it! A garden once in +bloom, but now laid waste! O fruit matured, but not enjoyed! To +earth’s mortality can such as thou be subject, and such as +thou within the darkness of the tomb repose? And where is now that +mole which seemed <span class="pagenum"><a id="page291" name= +"page291"></a>[pg 291]</span>a grain of musk?<a href="#fn_125" id= +"fnm_125" name="fnm_125"><sup>125</sup></a> And where those eyes +soft as the gazelle’s? Where those ruby lips? And where those +curling ringlets? In what bright hues is now thy form adorned? And +through the love of whom does now thy lamp consume? To whose fond +eyes are now thy charms displayed? And whom to captivate do now thy +tresses wave? Beside the margin of what stream is now that cypress +seen? And in what bower is now the banquet spread? Ah, can such as +thou have felt the pangs of death, and be reclined within this +narrow cave?<a href="#fn_126" id="fnm_126" name= +"fnm_126"><sup>126</sup></a> But o’er thy cell I mourn, as +thou wast all I loved; and ere my grief shall cease, the grave +shall be my friend. Thou wast agitated like the sand of the desert; +but now thou reposest as the water of the lake. Thou, like the +moon, hast disappeared; but, though unseen, the moon is still the +same; and now, although thy form from me is hid, still in my breast +remains the loved <span class="pagenum"><a id="page292" name= +"page292"></a>[pg 292]</span>remembrance. Though far removed beyond +my aching sight, still is thy image in my heart beheld. Thy form is +now departed, but grief eternal fills its place. On thee my soul +was fixed, and never will thy memory be forgot. Thou art gone, and +from this wilderness escaped, and now reposest in the bowers of +Paradise. I, too, after some little time will shake off these +bonds, and there rejoin thee. Till then, faithful to the love I +vowed, around thy tomb my footsteps will I bend. Until I come to +thee within this narrow cell, pure be thy shroud! May Paradise +everlasting be thy mansion blest! And be thy soul received into the +mercy of thy God! And may thy spirit by his grace be vivified to +all eternity!”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">“This,” methinks I hear some +misogynist exclaim, after reading it—“this is rank +nonsense—it is stark lunacy!” And so it is, perhaps. At +all events, these impassioned words are supposed to be uttered by a +poor youth who had gone mad from love. Our misogynist—and may +I venture to include the experienced married man?—will +probably retort, that all love between young folks is not only +folly but sheer madness; and he will be the more confirmed in this +opinion when he learns that, according to certain grave Persian +writers, Laylá was really of a swarthy visage, and far from +being the beauty her infatuated lover conceived her to be: thus +verifying the dictum of our great dramatist, in the ever-fresh +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page293" name="page293"></a>[pg +293]</span>passage where he makes “the lunatic, the lover, +and the poet” to be “of imagination all compact,” +the lover seeing “Helen’s beauty in the brow of +Egypt!”—Notwithstanding all this, the ancient legend of +Laylá and Majnún has proved an inspiring theme to +more than one great poet of Persia, during the most flourishing +period of the literature of that country—for which let us all +be duly thankful.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<h3 class="note">ADDITIONAL NOTES.</h3> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Arabian_N_1" name= +"Arabian_N_1"></a>‘WAMIK AND ASRA,’ p. <a href= +"#page289">289</a>.</h4> +<p>This is the title of an ancient Persian poem, composed in the +reign of Núshírván, <span class= +"small">A.D.</span> 531-579, of which some fragments only now +remain, incorporated with an Arabian poem. In 1833, Von Hammer +published a German translation, at Vienna: <i>Wamik und Asra; das +ist, Glühende und die Blühende. Das älteste +Persische romantische Gedicht. Jun fünftelsaft abgezogen</i>, +von Joseph von Hammer (Wamik and Asra; that is, the Glowing and the +Blowing. The most ancient Persian Romantic Poem. Transfer the +Fifth, etc.) The hero and heroine, namely, Wamik and Asra, are +personifications of the two great principles of heat and +vegetation, the vivifying energy of heaven and the correspondent +productiveness of earth.—This noble poem is the subject of a +very interesting article in the <i>Foreign Quarterly Review</i>, +vol. xviii, 1836-7, giving some of the more striking passages in +English verse, of which the following may serve as a specimen:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>‘The Blowing One’ Asra was justly named,</p> +<p class="i4">For she, in mind and form, a blossom stood;</p> +<p>Of beauty, youth, and grace divinely framed,</p> +<p class="i4">Of holiest spirit, filled with heavenly good.</p> +<p>The Spring, when warm, in fullest splendour showing,</p> +<p class="i4">Breathing gay wishes to the inmost core</p> +<p>Of youthful hearts, and fondest influence throwing,</p> +<p class="i4">Yet veiled its bloom, her beauty’s bloom +before;</p> +<p class="i4">For her the devotee his very creed forswore.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page294" name="page294"></a>[pg +294]</span>Her hair was bright as hyacinthine dyes;</p> +<p class="i2">Her cheek was blushing, sheen as Eden’s +rose;</p> +<p>The soft narcissus tinged her sleeping eyes,</p> +<p class="i2">And white her forehead, as the lotus shows</p> +<p><em>’Gainst Summer’s earliest sunbeams shimmering +fair.</em></p> +</div> +<p>A curious story is related by Dawlat Sháh regarding this +poem, which bears a close resemblance to the story of the +destruction of the Alexandrian Library, by order of the fanatical +khalíf ‘Umar: One day when Amír Abdullah Tahir, +governor of Khurasán under the Abbasside khalífs, was +giving audience, a person laid before him a book, as a rare and +valuable present. He asked: “What book is this?” The +man replied: “It is the story of Wamik and Asra.” The +Amír observed: “We are the readers of the +Kurán, and we read nothing except that sacred volume, and +the traditions of the Prophet, and such accounts as relate to him, +and we have therefore no use for books of this kind. They are +besides compositions of infidels, and the productions of +worshippers of fire, and are therefore to be rejected and contemned +by us.” He then ordered the book to be thrown into the water, +and issued his command that whatever books could be found in the +kingdom which were the composition of the Persian infidels should +be immediately burnt.</p> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Arabian_N_2" name="Arabian_N_2"></a>ANOTHER +FAMOUS ARABIAN LOVER.</h4> +<p>Scarcely less celebrated than the story of Majnún and +Laylá—among the Arabs, at least—is that of the +poet Jamíl and the beauteous damsel Buthayna. It is said +that Jamíl fell in love with her while he was yet a boy, and +on attaining manhood asked her in marriage, but her father refused. +He then composed verses in her honour and visited her secretly at +Wádi-’l Kura, a delightful valley near Medína, +much celebrated by the poets. Jamíl afterwards went to +Egypt, with the intention of reciting to Abdu-’l Azíz +Ibn Marwán a poem he had composed in his honour. This +governor admitted Jamíl into his presence, and, after +hearing his eulogistic verses and rewarding him generously, he +asked him concerning his love for Buthayna, and was told of his +ardent and painful passion. On this Abdu-’l Azíz +promised to unite Jamíl to her, and bade him stay at Misr +(Cairo), where he assigned him a habitation and furnished him with +all he required. But Jamíl died there shortly after, +<span class="small">A.H.</span> 82 (<span class="small">A.D.</span> +701).</p> +<p>The following narrative is given in the +<i>Kitabal-Aghání</i>, on the authority of the famous +poet and philologist Al-Asma’í, who flourished in the +8th century:</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page295" name="page295"></a>[pg +295]</span>A person who was present at the death of Jamíl in +Egypt relates that the poet called him and said: “If I give +you all I leave after me, will you perform one thing which I shall +enjoin you?” “By Allah, yes,” said the other. +“When I am dead,” said Jamíl, “take this +cloak of mine and put it aside, but keep everything else for +yourself. Then go to Buthayna’s tribe, and when you are near +them, saddle this camel of mine and mount her; then put on my cloak +and rend it, and mounting on a hill, shout out these verses: +‘A messenger hath openly proclaimed the death of +Jamíl. He hath now a dwelling in Egypt from which he will +never return. There was a time when, intoxicated with love, he +trained his mantle proudly in the fields and palm-groves of +Wádi-’l Kura! Arise, Buthayna! and lament aloud: weep +for the best of all thy lovers!’” The man did what +Jamíl ordered, and had scarcely finished the verses when +Buthayna came forth, beautiful as the moon when it appears from +behind a cloud. She was muffled in a cloak, and on coming up to him +said: “Man, if what thou sayest be true, thou hast killed me; +if false, thou hast dishonoured me!” [<i>i.e.</i> by +associating her name with that of a strange man, still alive.] He +replied: “By Allah! I only tell the truth,” and he +showed her Jamíl’s mantle, on seeing which she uttered +a loud cry and smote her face, and the women of the tribe gathered +around, weeping with her and lamenting her lover’s death. Her +strength at length failed her, and she swooned away. After some +time she revived, and said [in verse]: “Never for an instant +shall I feel consolation for the loss of Jamíl! That time +shall never come. Since thou art dead, O Jamíl, son of +Mamar! the pains of life and its pleasures are alike to me.” +And quoth the lover’s messenger: “I never saw man or +woman weep more than I saw that day.”—Abridged from Ibn +Khallikan’s great Biographical Dictionary as translated by +Baron De Slane, vol. i, pp. 331-326.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page299" name="page299"></a>[pg +299]</span></p> +<h2 class="spacedTop"><a id="Esop" name="Esop"></a>APOCRYPHAL LIFE +OF ESOP, THE FABULIST.</h2> +<p>The origin of the Beast-Fable is still a vexed question among +scholars, some of whom ascribe it to the doctrine of +metempsychosis, or the transmigration of human souls into different +animal forms; others, again, are of the opinion that beasts and +birds were first adopted as characters of fictitious narratives, in +order to safely convey reproof or impart wholesome counsel to the +minds of absolute princes, who would signally resent “plain +speaking.”<a href="#fn_127" id="fnm_127" name= +"fnm_127"><sup>127</sup></a> Several nations of +antiquity—notably the Greeks, the Hindús, the +Egyptians—have been credited with the invention of the +beast-fable, and there is no reason to believe that it may not have +been independently devised in different countries. It is very +certain, however, that Esop was not the inventor of this kind of +narrative in Greece, while those fables ascribed to him, which have +been familiar to us from our nursery days, are mostly spurious, and +have been traced to ancient Oriental sources. The so-called Esopic +apologue of the Lion and the House is found in an Egyptian papyrus +preserved <span class="pagenum"><a id="page300" name= +"page300"></a>[pg 300]</span>at Leyden.<a href="#fn_128" id= +"fnm_128" name="fnm_128"><sup>128</sup></a> Many of them are quite +modern <em>rechauffés</em> of Hindú apologues, such +as the Milkmaid and her Pot of Milk, which gave rise to our popular +saying, “Don’t count your chickens until they be +hatched.” Nevertheless, genuine fables of Esop were current +in Athens at the best period of its literary history, though it +does not appear that they existed in writing during his lifetime. +Aristophanes represents a character in one of his plays as learning +Esop’s fables from oral recitation. When first reduced to +writing they were in prose, and Socrates is said to have turned +some of them into verse, his example being followed by Babrius, +amongst others, of whose version but few fables remain entire. The +most celebrated of his Latin translators is Phædrus, who +takes care to inform us that</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>If any thoughts in these Iambics shine,</p> +<p>The invention’s Esop’s, and the verse is +mine.<a href="#fn_129" id="fnm_129" name= +"fnm_129"><sup>129</sup></a></p> +</div> +Little is authentically known regarding the career of the renowned +fabulist, who is supposed to have <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page301" name="page301"></a>[pg 301]</span>been born about +<span class="small">B.C.</span> 620, and, as in the case of Homer, +various places are assigned as that of his nativity--Samos, Sardis, +Mesembria in Thrace, and Cotiæium in Phrygia. He is said to +have been brought as a slave to Athens when very young, and after +serving several masters was enfranchised by Iadmon, the Samian. His +death is thus related by Plutarch: Having gone to Delphos, by the +order of Crœsus, with a large quantity of gold and silver, to +offer a costly sacrifice to Apollo and to distribute a considerable +sum among the inhabitants, a quarrel arose between him and the +Delphians, which induced him to return the money, and inform the +king that the people were unworthy of the liberal benefaction he +had intended for them. The Delphians, incensed, charged him with +sacrilege, and, having procured his condemnation, precipitated him +from a rock and caused his death.--The popular notion that Esop was +a monster of ugliness and deformity is derived from a "Life" of the +fabulist, prefixed to a Greek collection of fables purporting to be +his, said to have been written by Maximus Planudes, a monk of the +14th century, which, however apocryphal, is both curious and +entertaining, from whatever sources the anecdotes may have been +drawn. +<p>According to Planudes,<a href="#fn_130" id="fnm_130" name= +"fnm_130"><sup>130</sup></a> Esop was born at Amorium, in the +Greater Phrygia, a slave, ugly exceedingly: he was sharp-chinned, +snub-nosed, bull-necked, blubber-lipped, <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page302" name="page302"></a>[pg 302]</span>and +extremely swarthy (whence his name, <em>Ais-ôpos</em>, or +<em>Aith-ôpos</em>: burnt-face, blackamoor); pot-bellied, +crook-legged, and crook-backed; perhaps uglier even than the +Thersites of Homer; worst of all, tongue-tied, obscure and +inarticulate in his speech; in short, everything but his mind +seemed to mark him out for a slave. His first master sent him out +to dig one day. A husbandman having presented the master with some +fine fresh figs, they were given to a slave to be set before him +after his bath. Esop had occasion to go into the house; meanwhile +the other slaves ate the figs, and when the master missed them they +accused Esop, who begged a moment’s respite: he then drank +some warm water and caused himself to vomit, and as he had not +broken his fast his innocence was thus manifest. The same test +discovered the thieves, who by their punishment illustrated the +proverb:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Whoso against another worketh guile</p> +<p>Thereby himself doth injure unaware.<a href="#fn_131" id= +"fnm_131" name="fnm_131"><sup>131</sup></a></p> +</div> +<p>Next day the master goes to town. Esop works in the field, and +entertains with his own food some travellers who had lost their +way, and sets them on the right road again. They are really priests +of <span class="pagenum"><a id="page303" name="page303"></a>[pg +303]</span>Artemis, and having received their blessing he falls +asleep, and dreams that Tychê (<i>i.e.</i> Fortune) looses +his tongue, and gives him eloquence. Waking, he finds he can say +<em>bous</em>, <em>onos</em>, <em>dikella</em>, (ox, ass, mattock). +This is the reward of piety, for “well-doing is full of good +hopes.” Zenas, the overseer, is rebuked by Esop for beating a +slave. This is the first time he has been heard to speak +distinctly. Zenas goes to his master and accuses Esop of having +blasphemed him and the gods, and is given Esop to sell or give away +as he pleases. He sells him to a trader for three obols +(4½d.), Esop pleading that, if useless for aught else, he +will do for a bugbear to keep his children quiet. When they arrive +home the little ones begin to cry. “Was I not right?” +quoth Esop, and the other slaves think he has been bought to avert +the Evil Eye.</p> +<p>The merchant sets out for Asia with all his house-hold. Esop is +offered the lightest load, as being a raw recruit. From among the +bags, beds, and baskets he chooses a basket full of +bread—“a load for two men.” They laugh at his +folly, but let him have his will, and he staggers under the burden +to the wonder of his master. But at the first halt for +<em>ariston</em>, or breakfast, the basket is half-emptied, and by +the evening wholly so, and then Esop marches triumphantly ahead, +all commending his wit. At Ephesus the merchant sells all his +slaves, excepting a musician, a scribe, and Esop. Thence he goes to +Samos, where he puts new garments on the two <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page304" name="page304"></a>[pg 304]</span>former +(he had none left for Esop), and sets them out for sale, Esop +between them. Xanthus, the philospher, lived at Samos. He goes to +the slave market, and, seeing the three, praises the dealer’s +cunning in making the two look handsomer than they were by contrast +with the ugly one. Asking the scribe and the musician what they +know, their answer is, “Everything,” upon which Esop +laughs. The price of the musician (1000 obols, or six guineas) and +of the scribe (three times that sum) prevents the philosopher from +buying them, and he turns to Esop to see what he is made of. He +gives him the customary salutation, “Khaire!” +(Rejoice). “I wasn’t grieving,” retorts Esop. +“I greet thee,” says Xanthus. “And I thee,” +replies Esop. “What are thou?” “Black.” +“I don’t mean that, but in what sort of place wast thou +born?” “My mother didn’t tell me whether in the +second floor or the cellar.” “What can you do?” +“Nothing.” “How?” “Why, these fellows +here say they know how to do everything, and they haven’t +left me a single thing.” “By Jove,” cries +Xanthus, “he has answered right well; for there is no man who +knows everything. That was why he laughed, it is clear.” In +the end, Xanthus buys Esop for sixty obols (about 7s. 6d.) and +takes him home, where his wife (who is “very cleanly”) +receives him only on sufferance.</p> +<p>One day Xanthus, meeting friends at the bath, sends Esop home to +boil pease (idiomatically using the word in the singular), for his +friends are coming <span class="pagenum"><a id="page305" name= +"page305"></a>[pg 305]</span>to eat with him. Esop boils +<em>one</em> pea and sets it before Xanthus, who tastes it and bids +him serve up. The water is then placed on the table, and Esop +justifies himself to his distracted master, who then sends him for +four pig’s feet. While they boil, Xanthus slyly abstracts +one, and when Esop discovers this he takes it for a plot against +him of the other slaves. He runs into the yard, cuts a foot from +the pig feeding there, and tosses it into the pot. Presently the +other foot is put back, and Esop is confounded to see <em>five</em> +trotters on the boil. He serves them up, however, and when Xanthus +asks him what the five mean he replies: “How many feet have +two pigs?” Xanthus saying, “Eight,” quoth Esop: +“Then here are five, and the porker feeding below goes on +three.” On being reproached he urges: “But, master, +there is no harm in doing a sum in addition and subtraction, is +there?” For very shame Xanthus forbears whipping him.</p> +<p>One morning Xanthus gives a breakfast, for which Esop is sent to +buy “the best and most useful.” He buys tongues, and +the guests (philosophers all) have nothing else. “What could +be better for man than tongue?” quoth Esop. Another time he +is ordered to get “the worst and most worthless”; again +he brings tongues, and again is ready with a similar +defence.<a href="#fn_132" id="fnm_132" name= +"fnm_132"><sup>132</sup></a> A guest reviles him, and Esop retorts +that <span class="pagenum"><a id="page306" name="page306"></a>[pg +306]</span>he is “malicious and a busybody.” On hearing +this Xanthus commands him to find some one who is not a busybody. +In the road Esop finds a simple soul and brings him home to his +master, who persuades his wife to bear with him in anything he +should pretend to do to her; if the guest is a busybody (or one who +meddles) Esop will get a beating. The plan fails; for the good man +continues eating and takes no notice of the wife-cuffing going on, +and when his host seems about to burn her, he only asks leave to +bring his own wife to be also placed on the pile.</p> +<p>At a symposium Xanthus takes too much wine, and in bravado +wagers his house and all that it contains that he will drink up the +waters of the sea. Out of this scrape Esop rescues him by +suggesting that he should demand that all the rivers be stopped +from flowing into the sea, for he did not undertake to drink them +too, and the other party is satisfied.<a href="#fn_133" id= +"fnm_133" name="fnm_133"><sup>133</sup></a></p> +<p>A party of scientific guests are coming to dinner one day, and +Esop is set just within the door to keep out “all but the +wise.” When there is a knock at the door Esop shouts: +“What does the dog shake?” and all save one go away in +high dudgeon, thinking he means them; but this last answers: +“His tail,” and is admitted.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page307" name="page307"></a>[pg +307]</span>At a public festival an eagle carries off the municipal +ring, and Esop obtains his freedom by order of the state for his +interpretation of this omen—that some king purposes to annex +Samos. This, it turns out, is Crœsus, who sends to claim +tribute. Hereupon Esop relates his first fable, that of the Wolf, +the Dog, and the Sheep, and, going on an embassy to Crœsus, +that of the Grasshopper who was caught by the Locust-gatherer. He +brings home “peace with honour.” After this Esop +travels over the world, showing his wisdom and wit. At Babylon he +is made much of by the king. He then visits Egypt and confounds the +sages in his monarch’s behalf. Once more he returns to +Greece, and at Delphi is accused of stealing a sacred golden bowl +and condemned to be hurled from a rock. He pleads the fables of the +Matron of Ephesus,<a href="#fn_134" id="fnm_134" name= +"fnm_134"><sup>134</sup></a> the Frog and the Mouse, the Beetle and +the Eagle, the Old Farmer and his Ass-waggon, and others, but all +is of no avail, and the villains break his neck.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Such are some of the apocryphal sayings and +doings of Esop the fabulist—the manner of his death being the +only circumstance for which there is any authority. The idea of his +bodily deformity is utterly without foundation, and may have been +adopted as a foil to <span class="pagenum"><a id="page308" name= +"page308"></a>[pg 308]</span>his extraordinary shrewdness and wit, +as exhibited in the anecdotes related of him by Planudes. That +there was nothing uncouth in the person of Esop is evident from the +fact that the Athenians erected a fine statue of him, by the famed +sculptor Lysippus.—The Latin collection of the fables +ascribed to Esop was first printed at Rome in 1473 and soon +afterwards translated into most of the languages of Europe. About +the year 1480 the Greek text was printed at Milan. From a French +version Caxton printed them in English at Westminster in 1484, with +woodcuts: “Here begynneth the Book of the subtyl History and +Fables of Esope. Translated out of Frenssche into Englissche, by +William Caxton,” etc. In this version Planudes’ +description of Esop’s personal appearance is +reproduced<a href="#fn_135" id="fnm_135" name= +"fnm_135"><sup>135</sup></a> He was “deformed and evil +shapen, for he had a great head, large visage, long jaws, sharp +eyes, a short neck, curb backed, great belly, great legs, and large +feet; and yet that which was worse, he was dumb and could not +speak; but, notwithstanding all this, he had a great wit and was +greatly ingenious, subtle in cavillection and joyous in +words”—an inconsistency which is done away in a later +edition by the statement that afterwards he found his +tongue.—It is <span class="pagenum"><a id="page309" name= +"page309"></a>[pg 309]</span>curious to find the Scottish poet +Robert Henryson (15th century), in one of the prologues to his +metrical versions of some of the Fables, draw a very different +portrait of Esop.<a href="#fn_136" id="fnm_136" name= +"fnm_136"><sup>136</sup></a> He tells us that one day in the midst +of June, “that joly sweit seasoun,” he went alone to a +wood, where he was charmed with the “noyis of birdis richt +delitious,” and “sweit was the smell of flowris quhyte +and reid,” and, sheltering himself under a green hawthorn +from the heat of the sun, he fell asleep:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And, in my dreme, methocht come throw the schaw<a href="#fn_137" +title="a wood, a covert" id="fnm_137" name= +"fnm_137"><sup>137</sup></a></p> +<p>The fairest man that ever befoir I saw.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>His gowne wes of ane claith als quhyte as milk,</p> +<p class="i4">His chymeris<a href="#fn_138" id="fnm_138" name= +"fnm_138" title="a short, light gown"><sup>138</sup></a> wes of +chambelote purpour broun;</p> +<p>His hude<a href="#fn_139" id="fnm_139" name="fnm_139" title= +"hood"><sup>139</sup></a> of scarlet, bordourit<a href="#fn_140" +id="fnm_140" name="fnm_140" title="embroidered"><sup>140</sup></a> +weill with silk,</p> +<p class="i4">On hekellit-wyis,<a href="#fn_141" id="fnm_141" name= +"fnm_141" title= +"like the feathers in the neck of a cock"><sup>141</sup></a> untill +his girdill doun;</p> +<p class="i4">His bonat round, and of the auld fassoun,<a href= +"#fn_142" id="fnm_142" name="fnm_142" title= +"fashion"><sup>142</sup></a></p> +<p>His beird was quhyte, his ene was greit and gray,</p> +<p>With lokker<a href="#fn_143" id="fnm_143" name="fnm_143" title= +"(?) gray"><sup>143</sup></a> hair, quilk ouer his schulderis +lay.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page310" name="page310"></a>[pg +310]</span>Ane roll of paper in his hand he bair,</p> +<p class="i2">Ane swannis pen stikkand<a href="#fn_144" id= +"fnm_144" name="fnm_144" title="sticking"><sup>144</sup></a> under +his eir,</p> +<p>Ane inkhorne, with ane prettie gilt pennair,<a href="#fn_145" +id="fnm_145" name="fnm_145" title="pen-case"><sup>145</sup></a></p> +<p class="i2">Ane bag of silk, all at his belt can beir:</p> +<p class="i2">Thus was he gudelie graithit<a href="#fn_146" id= +"fnm_146" name="fnm_146" title= +"apparelled, arrayed"><sup>146</sup></a> in his geir.</p> +<p>Of stature large, and with ane feirfull<a href="#fn_147" id= +"fnm_147" name="fnm_147" title= +"awe-inspiring, dignified"><sup>147</sup></a> face;</p> +<p>Evin quhair I lay, he came ane sturdie pace.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>The Arabian sage Lokinan is represented by tradition to have +been a black slave, and of hideous appearance, from which, and from +the identity of the apologues in the Arabian collection that bears +his name as the author with the so-called Esopic fables, some +writers have supposed that Esop and Lokman are simply different +names of one and the same individual. But the fables ascribed to +Lokman have been for the most part (if not indeed entirely) derived +from the Greek; and there is no authority whatever that Lokman +composed any apologues. Various traditions exist regarding +Lokman’s origin and history. It is said that he was an +Ethiopian, and was sold as a slave to the Israelites during the +reign of David. According to one version, he was a carpenter; +another describes him as having been originally a tailor; while a +third account states that he was a shepherd. If the Arabs may be +credited, he was nearly related to the patriarch Job. Among the +anecdotes which are recounted of his amiable disposition is the +following: His master once gave him a bitter lemon to eat. Lokman +ate it all, upon which his master, greatly <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page311" name="page311"></a>[pg +311]</span>astonished, asked him: “How was it possible for +you to eat so unpalatable a fruit?” Lokman replied: “I +have received so many favours from you, that it is no wonder I +should once in my life eat a bitter melon from your hand.” +Struck with this generous answer, the master, it is said, +immediately gave him his freedom.—A man of eminence among the +Jews, observing a great crowd around Lokman, eagerly listening to +his discourse, asked him whether he was not the black slave who +lately tended the sheep of such a person, to which Lokman replying +in the affirmative, “How was it possible,” continued +his questioner, “for thee to attain so exalted a degree of +wisdom and piety?” Lokman answered: “By always speaking +the truth; keeping my word; and never intermeddling in affairs that +did not concern me.”—Being asked from whom he had +learned urbanity, he replied: “From men of rude manners, for +whatever I saw in them that was disagreeable I avoided doing +myself.” And when asked from whom he had acquired his +philosophy, he said: “From the blind, who never advance a +step until they have tried the ground.” Lokman is also +credited with this apothegm: “Be a learned man, a disciple of +the learned, or an auditor of the learned; at least, be a lover of +knowledge and desirous of improvement.”—In Persian and +Turkish tales Lokman sometimes figures as a highly skilled +physician, and “wise as Lokman” is proverbial +throughout the Muhammedan world.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page312" name="page312"></a>[pg +312]</span></p> +<h3 class="note">ADDITIONAL NOTE.</h3> +<h4 class="note"><a id="Esop_N" name="Esop_N"></a>DRINKING THE SEA +DRY, p. <a href="#page306">306</a>.</h4> +<p>The same jest is also found in <i>Aino Folk-Tales</i>, +translated by Prof. Basil Hall Chamberlain, and published in the +<i>Folk-Lore Journal</i>, 1888, as follows:</p> +<p>There was the Chief of the Mouth of the River and the Chief of +the Upper Current of the River. The former was very vain-glorious, +and therefore wished to put the latter to shame or to kill him by +engaging him in an attempt to perform something impossible. So he +sent for him and said: “The sea is a useful thing, in so far +as it is the original home of the fish which come up the river. But +it is very destructive in stormy weather, when it beats wildly upon +the beach. Do you now drink it dry, so that there may be rivers and +dry land only. If you cannot do so, then forfeit all your +possessions.” The other said, greatly to the vain-glorious +man’s surprise: “I accept the challenge.” So, on +their going down to the beach, the Chief of the Upper Current of +the River took a cup and scooped up a little of the sea-water with +it, drank a few drops, and said: “In the sea-water itself +there is no harm. It is some of the rivers flowing into it that are +poisonous. Do you, therefore, first close the mouths of all the +rivers both in Aino-land and in Japan, and prevent them from +flowing into the sea, and then I will undertake to drink the sea +dry.” Hereupon the Chief of the Mouth of the River felt +ashamed, acknowledged his error, and gave all his treasures to his +rival.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Such an idea as this of first “stopping +the rivers” might well have been conceived independently by +different peoples, but surely not by such a race so low in the +scale of humanity as the Ainos, who must have got the story from +the Japanese, who in their turn probably derived it from some +Indian-Buddhist source—perhaps a version of the Book of +Sindibád. Of course, the several European versions and +variants have been copied out of one book into another, and +independent invention is out of the question.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page315" name="page315"></a>[pg +315]</span></p> +<h2 class="spacedTop"><a id="Clergy" name="Clergy"></a>IGNORANCE OF +THE CLERGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES.</h2> +<div class="epigram"> +<p><em>Orl.</em> Whom ambles Time withal?</p> +<p><em>Ros.</em> With a priest that lacks Latin; for he sleeps +easily, because he cannot study, lacking the burden of lean and +wasteful learning.—<i>As You Like It</i>.</p> +</div> +<p>During the 7th and 8th centuries the state of letters throughout +Christian Europe was so low that very few of the bishops could +compose their own discourses, and some of those Church dignitaries +thought it no shame to publicly acknowledge their inability to +write their own names. Numerous instances occur in the Acts of the +Councils of Ephesus and Chalcedon of an inscription in these words: +“I, <span style= +"letter-spacing:-0.2em;">——</span>—, have +subscribed by the hand of <span style= +"letter-spacing:-0.2em;">——</span>—, because I +cannot write”; and such a bishop having thus confessed that +he could not write, there followed: “I, <span style= +"letter-spacing:-0.2em;">——</span>—, whose name +is underwritten, have therefore subscribed for him.”</p> +<p>Alfred the Great—who was twelve years of age before a +tutor could be found competent to teach him the +alphabet—complained, towards the close of the 9th century, +that “from the Humber to the Thames there was not a priest +who understood <span class="pagenum"><a id="page316" name= +"page316"></a>[pg 316]</span>the liturgy in his mother-tongue, or +could translate the easiest piece of Latin”; and a +correspondent of Abelard, about the middle of the 12th century, +complimenting him upon a resort to him of pupils from all +countries, says that “even Britain, distant as she is, sends +her savages to be instructed by you.”</p> +<p>Henri Etienne, in the Introduction to his Apology for +Herodotus,<a href="#fn_148" id="fnm_148" name= +"fnm_148"><sup>148</sup></a> says that “the most brutish and +blockish ignorance was to be found in friars’ cowls, +especially mass-mongering priests, which we are the less to wonder +at, considering that which Menot twits them in the teeth withal, +that instead of books there was nothing to be found in their +chambers but a sword, or a long-bow, or a cross-bow, or some such +weapon. But how could they send <em>ad ordos</em> such ignorant +asses? You must note, sir, that they which examined them were as +wise as woodcocks themselves, and therefore judged of them as +penmen of pikemen and blind men of colours. Or were it that they +had so much learning in their budgets as that they could make a +shift to know their inefficiency, yet to pleasure those that +recommended them they suffered them to <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page317" name="page317"></a>[pg 317]</span>pass. One is famous +among the rest, who being asked by the bishop sitting at the table: +‘Es tu dignus?’ answered, ‘No, my Lord, but I +shall dine anon with your men.’ For he thought that +<em>dignus</em> (that is, worthy) signified to dine.”</p> +<p>Etienne gives another example, which, however, belongs rather to +the class of simpleton stories: A young man going to the bishop for +admission into holy orders, to test his <em>learning</em>, was +asked by the prelate, “Who was the father of the Four Sons of +Aymon?”<a href="#fn_149" id="fnm_149" name= +"fnm_149"><sup>149</sup></a> and not knowing what answer to make, +this promising candidate was refused as inefficient. Returning +home, and explaining why he had not been ordained, his father told +him that he must be an ass if he could not tell who was the father +of the four sons of Aymon. “See, I pray thee,” quoth +he, “yonder is Great John, the smith, who has four sons; if a +man should ask thee who was their father, wouldst thou not say it +was Great John, the smith?” “Yes,” said the +brilliant youth; “now I understand it.” Thereupon he +went again before the bishop, and being asked a second time, +“Who was the father of the Four Sons of Aymon?” he +promptly replied: “Great John, the smith.”<a href= +"#fn_150" id="fnm_150" name="fnm_150"><sup>150</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page318" name="page318"></a>[pg +318]</span>The same author asks who but the churchmen of those days +of ignorance corrupted and perverted the text of the New Testament? +Thus, in the parable of the lost piece of money, <em>evertit +domum</em>, “she overturned the house,” was substituted +for <em>everrit domum</em>, “she <em>swept</em> the +house.” And in the Acts of the Apostles, where Saul (or Paul) +is described as being let down from the house on the wall of +Damascus in a basket, for <em>demissus per sportam</em> was +substituted <em>demissus per portam</em>, a correction which called +forth a rather witty Latin epigram to this effect:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>This way the other day did pass</p> +<p>As jolly a carpenter as ever was;</p> +<p>So strangely skilful in his trade,</p> +<p>That of a <em>basket</em> a <em>door</em> he made.</p> +</div> +<p>Among the many curious anecdotes told in illustration of the +gross ignorance of the higher orders of the clergy in medieval +times the two following are not the least amusing:</p> +<p>About the year 1330 Louis Beaumont was bishop of Durham. He was +an extremely illiterate French nobleman, so incapable of reading +that he could not, although he had studied them, read the bulls +announced to the people at his consecration. During <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page319" name="page319"></a>[pg 319]</span>that +ceremony the word “metropoliticæ” occurred. The +bishop paused, and tried in vain to repeat it, and at last +remarked: “Suppose that said.” Then he came to +“enigmate,” which also puzzled him. “By St. +Louis!” he exclaimed in indignation, “it could be no +gentleman who wrote that stuff!”</p> +<p>Our second anecdote is probably more generally known: Andrew +Forman, who was bishop of Moray and papal legate for Scotland, at +an entertainment given by him at Rome to the Pope and cardinals, +blundered so in his Latinity when he said grace that his Holiness +and the cardinals lost their gravity. The disconcerted bishop +concluded his blessing by giving “a’ the fause carles +to the de’il,” to which the company, not understanding +his Scotch Latinity, said “Amen!”</p> +<p>When such was the condition of the bishops, it is not surprising +to find that few of the ordinary priests were acquainted with even +the rudiments of the Latin tongue, and they consequently mumbled +over masses which they did not understand. A rector of a parish, we +are told, going to law with his parishioners about paving the +church, cited these words, <em>Paveant illi, non paveam ego</em>, +which, ascribing them to St. Peter, he thus construed: “They +are to pave the church, not I”—and this was allowed to +be good law by a judge who was himself an ecclesiastic.</p> +<p>We have an amusing example of the ignorance of the lower orders +of churchmen during the “dark <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page320" name="page320"></a>[pg 320]</span>ages” in No. xii +of <i>A Hundred Mery Talys</i>, as follows: “The archdekyn of +Essex, that had ben longe in auctorite, in a tyme of vysytacyon, +whan all the prestys apperyd before hym, called aside iii. of the +yonge prestys which were acusyd that th[e]y could not wel say theyr +dyvyne service, and askyd of them, when they sayd mas, whether they +sayd corpus meus or corpum meum. The fyrst prest sayde that he sayd +corpus meus. The second sayd that he sayd corpum meum. And than he +asked of the thyrd how he sayde; whyche answered and sayd thus: +Sir, because it is so great a dout, and dyvers men be in dyvers +opynyons, therfore, because I wolde be sure I wolde not offende, +whan I come to the place I leve it clene out and say nothynge +therfore. Wherfore the bysshoppe than openly rebuked them all thre. +But dyvers that were present thought more defaut in hym, because he +hym selfe beforetyme had admytted them to be prestys.” And +assuredly they were right in so thinking, and the worthy archdeacon +(or bishop, as he is also styled), who had probably passed the +three young men “for value received” from their +fathers, should have refrained from publicly examining them +afterwards.</p> +<p>The covetousness and irreverence of the churchmen in former +times are well exemplified in another tale given in the same old +jest-book, No. lxxi, which, with spelling modernised, goes thus: +“Sometime there dwelled a priest in Stratford-on-Avon, of +small learning, which undevoutly sang mass and oftentimes +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page321" name="page321"></a>[pg +321]</span>twice on one day. So it happened on a time, after his +second mass was done in short space, not a mile from Stratford +there met him divers merchantmen, which would have heard mass, and +desired him to sing mass and he should have a groat, which answered +them and said: ‘Sirs, I will say mass no more this day; but I +will say you two gospels for one groat, and that is dog-cheap for a +mass in any place in England.’” The story-teller does +not inform us whether the pious merchants accepted of the +business-like compromise offered by “Mass John.”</p> +<p>Hagiolatry was quite as much in vogue among the priesthood in +medieval times as mariolatry has since been the special +characteristic of the Romish Church, to the subordination (one +might almost say, the suppression) of the only true object of +worship; in proof of which, here is a droll anecdote from another +early English collection, <i>Mery Tales, Wittie Questions, and +Quicke Answeres, very pleasant to be readde</i> (No. cxix): +“A friar, preaching to the people, extolled Saint Francis +above [all] confessors, doctors, virgins, martyrs, +prophets—yea, and above one more than prophets, John the +Baptist, and finally above the seraphical order of angels; and +still he said, ‘Yet let us go higher.’ So when he could +go no farther, except he should put Christ out of his place, which +the good man was half afraid to do, he said aloud, ‘And yet +we have found no fit place for him.’ And, staying a little +while, he cried out at last, saying, ‘Where shall we place +the holy father?’ A froward fellow standing among the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page322" name="page322"></a>[pg +322]</span>audience,<a href="#fn_151" id="fnm_151" name= +"fnm_151"><sup>151</sup></a> said, ‘If thou canst find none +other, then set him here in my place, for I am weary,’ and so +he went his way.”—This “froward +fellow’s” unexpected reply will doubtless remind the +reader of the old man’s remark in the mosque, about the +“calling of Noah,” <i>ante</i>, pp. <a href= +"#page66">66</a>, <a href="#page67">67</a>.<a href="#fn_152" id= +"fnm_152" name="fnm_152"><sup>152</sup></a></p> +<p>Probably not less than one third of the jests current in Europe +in the 16th century turned on the ignorance of the Romish +clergy—such, for instance, as that of the illiterate priest +who, finding <em>salta per tria</em> (skip over three leaves) +written at the foot of a page in his mass-book, deliberately jumped +down three of the steps before the altar, to the great astonishment +of the congregation; or that of another who, finding the title of +the day’s service indicated only by the abbreviation +<em>Re.</em>, read the mass of the Requiem instead of the service +of the Resurrection; or that of yet another, who being so +illiterate as to be unable to pronounce readily the long words in +his ritual always omitted them, and pronounced the word Jesus, +which he said was much more devotional.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page323" name="page323"></a>[pg +323]</span>There is a diverting tale of a foolish curé of +Brou, which is well worthy of reproduction, in <i>Les Contes; ou, +les Nouvelles Récréations et Joyeux Devis</i>, by +Bonaventure des Periers—one of the best story-books of the +16th century (Bonaventure succeeded the celebrated poet Clement +Marot as <em>valet-de-chambre</em> to Margaret, queen of +Navarre):</p> +<p>It happened that a lady of rank and importance, on her way to +Châteaudun to keep there the festival of Easter, passed +through Brou on Good Friday, about ten o’clock in the +morning, and, wishing to hear service, she went into the church. +When the curé came to the Passion he said it in his own +peculiar manner, and made the whole church ring when he said, +“<em>Quem, quæritis</em>?” But when it came to +the reply, “<em>Jesum, Nazarenum</em>,”<a href= +"#fn_153" id="fnm_153" name="fnm_153"><sup>153</sup></a> he spoke +as low as he possibly could, and in this manner he continued the +Passion. The lady, who was very devout and, for a woman, +well-informed, in the Holy Scriptures [the reader will understand +this was early in the 16th century], and attentive to +ecclesiastical ceremonies, felt scandalised at this mode of +chanting, and wished that she had never entered the church. She had +a mind to speak to the curé, and tell him what she thought +of it, and for this purpose sent for him to come to her after +service. When he was come, “Monsieur le Curé,” +she said to him, “I don’t know where you have learned +to officiate on a day <span class="pagenum"><a id="page324" name= +"page324"></a>[pg 324]</span>like this, when the people ought to be +all humility. But to hear you perform the service is enough to +drive away anybody’s devotion.” “How so, +madame?” said the curé. “How so?” +responded the lady. “You have said a Passion contrary to all +rules of decency. When our Lord speaks you cry as if you were in +the town-hall, and when it is Caiaphas, or Pilate, or the Jews, you +speak softly like a young bride. Is this becoming in one like you? +Are you fit to be a curé? If you had what you deserve, you +would be turned out of your benefice, and then you would be made to +know your fault.” When the curé had very attentively +listened to the good lady, “Is this what you have to say to +me, madame?” said he. “By my soul! it is very true what +you say, and the truth is, there are many people who talk of things +which they do not understand. Madame, I believe I know my office as +well as another, and beg all the world to know that God is as well +served in this parish according to its condition as in any place +within a hundred leagues of it. I know very well that the other +curés chant the Passion quite differently. I could easily +chant it like them if I would; but they don’t understand +their business at all. I should like to know if it becomes those +rogues of Jews to speak as loud as our Lord? No, no, madame; rest +assured that in my parish it is my will that God be master, and he +shall be as long as I live, and let others do in their parishes +according to their understanding.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page325" name="page325"></a>[pg +325]</span>This is another of Des Periers’ comical tales at +the expense of the clerical orders: There was a priest of a village +who was as proud as might be because he had seen a little more than +his Cato. And this made him set up his feathers and talk very +grand, using words that filled his mouth in order to make people +think him a great doctor. Even at confession he made use of terms +which astonished the poor people. One day he was confessing a poor +working man, of whom he asked: “Here, now, my friend, tell +me, art thou not ambitious?” The poor man said, +“No,” thinking this was a word which belonged to great +lords, and almost repented of having come to confess to this +priest; for he had already heard that he was such a great clerk and +that he spoke so grandly that nobody understood him, which he knew +by the word <em>ambitious</em>; for although he might have heard it +somewhere, yet he knew not at all what it meant. The priest went on +to ask: “Art thou not a gourmand?” Said the labourer, +who understood as little as before: “No.” “Art +thou not superbe” [proud]? “No.” “Art thou +not iracund” [passionate]? “No.” The priest, +seeing the man always answer, “No,” was somewhat +surprised. “Art thou not concupiscent?” +“No.” “And what are thou, then?” said the +priest. “I am,” said he, “a +mason—here’s my trowel.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">Readers acquainted with the <em>fabliaux</em> +of the minstrels (the Trouvères) of Northern France know +that those light-hearted gentry very often launched <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page326" name="page326"></a>[pg 326]</span>their +satirical shafts at the churchmen of their day. One of the +<em>fabliaux</em> in Barbazan’s collection relates how a +doltish, thick-headed priest was officiating in his church on Good +Friday, and when about to read the service for that day he +discovered that he had lost his book-mark (“<em>mais il ot +perdu ses festuz</em>.”)<a href="#fn_154" id="fnm_154" name= +"fnm_154"><sup>154</sup></a> Then he began to go back and turn over +the leaves, but until Ascension Day he found not the Passion +service. And the assembled peasants fretted and complained that he +made them fast too long, since it was time for the festival. +“Had he but said them the service,” interjects the +<em>fableur</em>, “should I make you a longer story?” +So much did they grumble on all sides, that the priest began on +them and fell to saying very rapidly, first in a loud and then in a +low tone of voice, “<em>Dixit Dominus Domino meo</em>” +(the Lord said unto my Lord); “but,” says the +<em>fableur</em>, “I cannot find here any sequel.” The +priest having read the text as chance might lead him, read the +vespers for Sunday;—and you must know he travailed hard, that +the offerings should be worth something to him. Then he fell to +crying, “Barabbas!”—no crier could have cried a +ban so loud as he cried to them; and everyone began to confess his +sins aloud (<i>i.e.</i>, struck up “<em>mea +culpa</em>”) and cried, “Mercy!” The priest, who +read on the sequence of his Psalter, once more began to cry out, +saying, “Crucify him!” So that both men and women +prayed God that he would defend them from torment. But it sorely +vexed the clerk, who <span class="pagenum"><a id="page327" name= +"page327"></a>[pg 327]</span>said to the priest, “Make an +end”; but he answered, “Make no end, friend, till +‘unto the marvellous works’”—referring to a +passage in the Psalter. The clerk then said that a long Passion +service boots nothing, and that it is never a gain to keep the +people too long. And as soon as the offerings of the people were +collected he finished the Passion.—“By this +tale,” adds the <em>raconteur</em>, “I would show you +how—by the faith of Saint Paul!—it as well befits a +fool to talk folly and sottishness as it becomes a wise man to +speak wisely. And he is a fool who believes me not.”<a href= +"#fn_155" id="fnm_155" name="fnm_155"><sup>155</sup></a>—A +commentary, this, which recalls the old English saying, that +“it is as great marvel to see a woman weep as to see a goose +go barefoot.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">They were bold fellows, those +Trouvères. Not content with making the ignorance and the +gross vices of the clerical orders the subjects of their +<em>fabliaux</em>, they did not scruple to ridicule their +superstitious teachings, as witness the satire on saint-worship, +entitled “Du vilain [<i>i.e.</i>, peasant] qui conquist +Paradis par plait,” the substance of which is as follows: A +poor peasant dies suddenly, and his soul escapes at a moment when +neither angel nor demon was on the watch, so that, unclaimed and +left to his own discretion, the peasant follows St. Peter, who +happened to be on his way to Paradise, and enters the gate with him +unperceived. When the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page328" name= +"page328"></a>[pg 328]</span>saint finds that the soul of such a +low person has found its way into Paradise he is angry, and rudely +orders the peasant out. But the latter accuses St. Peter of denying +his Saviour, and, conscience-stricken, the gate-keeper of heaven +applies to St. Thomas, who undertakes to drive away the intruder. +The peasant, however, disconcerts St. Thomas by reminding him of +his disbelief, and St. Paul, who comes next, fares no +better—he had persecuted the saints. At length Christ hears +of what had occurred, and comes himself. The Saviour listens +benignantly to the poor soul’s pleading, and ends by +forgiving the peasant his sins, and allowing him to remain in +Paradise.<a href="#fn_156" id="fnm_156" name= +"fnm_156"><sup>156</sup></a></p> +<p class="spacedTop">There exists a very singular English burlesque +of the unprofitable sermons of the preaching friars in the Middle +Ages, which is worthy of Rabelais himself, and of which this is a +modernised extract:</p> +<p><i>Mollificant olera durissima crusta.</i>—“Friends, +this is to say to your ignorant understanding, that hot plants and +hard crusts make soft hard plants. The help and the grace of the +gray goose that goes on the green, and the wisdom of the water +wind-mill, with the good grace of a gallon pitcher, and all the +salt sausages that be sodden in Norfolk upon Saturday, be with us +now at our beginning, and help us in our ending, and quit you of +bliss and both your eyes, that never shall have ending. Amen. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page329" name="page329"></a>[pg +329]</span>My dear curst creatures, there was once a wife whose +name was Catherine Fyste, and she was crafty in court, and well +could carve. Hence she sent after the four Synods of Rome to know +why, wherefore, and for what cause that Alleluja was closed before +the cup came once round. Why, believest thou not, forsooth, that +there stood once a cock on St. Paul’s steeple-top, and drew +up the strapples of his breech? How provest thou that tale? By all +the four doctors of Wynberryhills—that is to say, Vertas, +Gadatryne, Trumpas, and Dadyltrymsert—the which four doctors +say there was once an old wife had a cock to her son, and he looked +out of an old dove-cot, and warned and charged that no man should +be so hardy either to ride or go on St. Paul’s steeple-top +unless he rode on a three-footed stool, or else that he brought +with him a warrant of his neck”—and so on, in this +fantastical style.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">The meaning of the phrase “benefit of +clergy” is not perhaps very generally understood. The phrase +had its origin in those days of intellectual darkness, when the +state of letters was so low that anyone found guilty in a court of +justice of a crime which was punishable with death, if he could +prove himself able to read a verse in a Latin Bible he was +pardoned, as being a man of learning, and therefore likely to be +useful to the state; but if he could not read he was sure to be +hanged. This privilege, it <span class="pagenum"><a id="page330" +name="page330"></a>[pg 330]</span>is said, was granted to all +offences, excepting high treason and sacrilege, till after the year +1350. At first it was extended not only to the clergy but to any +person that could read, who, however, had to vow that he would +enter into holy orders; but with the increase of learning this +“benefit to clergy” was restricted by several Acts of +Parliament, and it was finally abolished only so late as the reign +of George IV.</p> +<p>In <i>Pasquils Jests and Mother Bunches Merriments</i>, a book +of <em>facetiæ</em> very popular in the 16th century, a story +is told of a criminal at the Oxford Assizes who “prayed his +clergy,” and a Bible was accordingly handed to him that he +might read a verse. He could not read a word, however, which a +scholar who chanced to be present observing, he stood behind him +and prompted him with the verse he was to read; but coming towards +the end, the man’s thumb happened to cover the remaining +words, and so the scholar, in a low voice, said: “Take away +thy thumb,” which words the man, supposing them to form part +of the verse he was reading, repeated aloud, “Take away thy +thumb”—whereupon the judge ordered him to be taken away +and hanged. And in Taylor’s <i>Wit and Mirth</i> (1630): +“A fellow having his book [that is, having read a verse in +the Bible] at the sessions, was burnt in the hand, and was +commanded to say: ‘May God save the King.’ ‘The +King!’ said he, ‘God save my grandam, that taught me to +read; I am sure I had been hanged else.’”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page331" name="page331"></a>[pg +331]</span>The verse in the Bible which a criminal was required to +read, in order to entitle him to the “benefit of +clergy” (the beginning of the 51st Psalm, “Miserere +mei”), was called the “neck-verse,” because his +doing so saved his neck from the gallows. It is sometimes jestingly +alluded to in old plays. For example, in Massinger’s <i>Great +Duke of Florence</i>, Act iii, sc. 1:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p><em>Cataminta</em>.—How the fool stares!</p> +<p><em>Fiorinda</em>.—And looks as if he were conning his +neck-verse;</p> +</div> +<p>and in the same dramatist’s play of <i>The +Picture</i>:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p class="i8">Twang it perfectly,</p> +<p>As if it were your neck-verse.</p> +</div> +<p>In the anonymous <i>Pleasant Comedy of Patient Grissell</i> +(1603), Act ii, sc. 1, we find this custom again referred to:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p><em>Farnese</em>.—Ha, hah! Emulo not write and read?</p> +<p><em>Rice</em>.—Not a letter, an you would hang him.</p> +<p><em>Urcenze</em>.—Then he’ll never be saved by his +book.</p> +</div> +<p>In Scott’s <i>Lay of the Last Minstrel</i>, the +moss-trooper, William of Deloraine, assures the lady, who had +warned him not to look into what he should receive from the Monk of +St. Mary’s Aisle, “be it scroll or be it book,” +that</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>“Letter nor line know I never a one,</p> +<p>Were’t my neck-verse at Haribee”—</p> +</div> +<p>the place where such Border rascals were usually executed.</p> +<p>It was formerly the custom to sing a psalm at the gallows before +a criminal was “turned off.” <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page332" name="page332"></a>[pg 332]</span>And +there is a good story, in Zachary Gray’s notes to +<i>Hudibras</i>, told of one of the chaplains of the famous +Montrose; how, being condemned in Scotland to die for attending his +master in some of his expeditions, and being upon the ladder and +ordered to select a psalm to be sung, expecting a reprieve, he +named the 119th Psalm, with which the officer attending the +execution complied (the Scottish Presbyterians were great +psalm-singers in those days), and it was well for him he did so, +for they had sung it half through before the reprieve came. Any +other psalm would certainly have hanged him! Cotton, in his +<i>Virgil Travestie</i>, thus alludes to the custom of +psalm-singing at the foot of the gallows:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Ready, when Dido gave the word,</p> +<p>To be advanced into the halter,</p> +<p>Without the benefit on’s Psalter.</p> +</div> +<hr class="short" /> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Then ’cause she would, to part the sweeter,</p> +<p>A portion have of Hopkins’ metre,</p> +<p>As people use at execution,</p> +<p>For the decorum of conclusion,</p> +<p>Being too sad to sing, she says.<a href="#fn_157" id="fnm_157" +name="fnm_157"><sup>157</sup></a></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>If the clergy in medieval times had, as they are said to have +had, all the learning among themselves, what a blessed state of +ignorance must the laity have been in! And so, indeed, it appears, +for there is extant an old Act of Parliament which provides that a +nobleman shall be entitled to the “benefit <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page333" name="page333"></a>[pg 333]</span>of +clergy,” even though he could not read. And another law sets +forth that “the command of the sheriff to his officer by word +of mouth, and without writing is good; for it may be that neither +the sheriff nor his officer can write or read!” Many charters +are preserved to which persons of great dignity, even kings, have +affixed the sign of the cross, because they were not able to write +their names, and hence the term of <em>signing</em>, instead of +subscribing. In this respect a ten-year-old Board School boy in +these “double-distilled” days is vastly superior to the +most renowned of the “barons bold.”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page337" name="page337"></a>[pg +337]</span></p> +<h2 class="spacedTop"><a id="Beards" name="Beards"></a>THE BEARDS +OF OUR FATHERS.</h2> +<div class="epigram"> +<p>’Tis merry in the hall when beards wag all.—<em>Old +Song</em>.</p> +</div> +<p>Among the harmless foibles of adolescence which contribute to +the quiet amusement of folks of mature years is the eager desire of +youths to have their smooth faces adorned with that +“noble” distinction of manhood—a beard. And no +wonder. For, should a clever lad, getting out of his +“teens,” venture to express opinions contrary to those +of his elders present, is he not at once snubbed by being called +“a beardless boy”? A boy! Bitter taunt! He very +naturally feels that he is grossly insulted, and all because his +“dimpled chin never has known the barber’s +shear.” Full well does our ingenuous youth know that a man is +not wise in consequence of his beard—that, as the Orientals +say of women’s long hair, it often happens that men with long +beards have short wits; nevertheless, had he but a beard himself, +he should then be free from such a wretched +“argument”—such an implied accusation of his lack +of wit, as that he is beardless. The young Roman watched the first +appearance of the downy precursor of his beard with no little +solicitude, and applied the household oil to his face—there +were no patent specifics <span class="pagenum"><a id="page338" +name="page338"></a>[pg 338]</span>in those days for +“infallibly producing luxuriant whiskers and moustaches in a +few weeks”—to promote its tardy growth, and entitle +him, from the incipient fringe, to be styled +“barbatulus.” When his beard was full-grown he was +called “barbatus.”</p> +<p>It would seem that the beard was held in the highest esteem, +especially in Asiatic countries, from the earliest period of which +any records have been preserved. The Hebrew priests are commanded +in the Book of Leviticus, ch. xix, not to shave off the corners of +their beards; and the first High Priest, Aaron, probably wore a +magnificent beard, since the amicable relations between brethren +are compared, in the 133rd Psalm, to “the precious ointment +upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron’s +beard; that went down to the skirts of his garments.” The +Assyrian kings intertwined gold thread with their fine +beards—and, judging from mural sculptures, curling tongs must +have been in considerable demand with them. In ancient Greece the +beard was universally worn, and it is related of Zoilus, the +founder of the anti-Homeric school, that he shaved the crown of his +head, in order that all the virtue should go to the nourishment of +his beard. Persius could not think of a more complimentary epithet +to apply to Socrates than that of “Magistrum Barbatum,” +or Bearded Master—the notion being that the beard was the +symbol of profound sagacity.<a href="#fn_158" id="fnm_158" name= +"fnm_158"><sup>158</sup></a> Alexander the <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page339" name="page339"></a>[pg 339]</span>Great, +however, caused his soldiers to shave off their beards, because +they furnished their enemies with handles whereby to seize hold of +them in battle. The beard was often consecrated to the deities, as +the most precious offering. Chaucer, in his <i>Knight’s +Tale</i>, represents Arcite as offering his beard to Mars:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>And evermore, unto that day I dye,</p> +<p>Eternè fyr I wol bifore the fynde,</p> +<p>And eek to this avow I wol me bynde,</p> +<p>My berd, myn heer, that hangeth long a doun,</p> +<p>That neuer yit ne felt offensioun</p> +<p>Of rasour ne of schere, I wol ye giue,</p> +<p>And be thy trewè seruaunt whiles I lyue.<a href="#fn_159" +id="fnm_159" name="fnm_159"><sup>159</sup></a></p> +</div> +<p>Selim I was the first Turkish sultan who shaved his beard after +his accession to the throne; and when his muftis remonstrated with +him for this <em>dangerous</em> innovation, he facetiously replied +that he had removed his beard in order that his vazírs +should not have <span class="pagenum"><a id="page340" name= +"page340"></a>[pg 340]</span>wherewith to <em>lead</em> him. The +beards of modern Persian soldiers were abolished in consequence of +a singular accident, which Morier thus relates in his <i>Second +Journey</i>: When European discipline was introduced into the +Persian army, Lieutenant Lindsay raised a corps of artillery. His +zeal was only equalled by the encouragement of the king, who +liberally adopted every method proposed. It was only upon the +article of shaving off the beards of the Persian soldiers that the +king was inexorable; nor would the sacrifice have ever taken place +had it not happened that, in discharging the guns before the +prince, a powder-horn exploded in the hand of a gunner who had been +gifted with a very long beard, which in an instant was blown away +from his chin. Lieutenant Lindsay, availing himself of this lucky +opportunity to prove his argument on the inconvenience of beards to +soldiers, immediately produced the scorched gunner before the +prince, who was so much struck with his woeful appearance that the +abolition of military beards was at once decided upon.</p> +<p>It was customary for the early French monarchs to place three +hairs of their beard under the seal attached to important +documents; and there is still extant a charter of the year 1121, +which concludes with these words: “Quod ut ratum et stabile +perseveret in posterum, præsentis scripto sigilli mei robur +apposui cum tribus pilis barbæ meæ.”—In +obedience to his spiritual advisers, Louis VII of France had his +hair cut close and his beard shaved off. But his consort +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page341" name="page341"></a>[pg +341]</span>Eleanor was so disgusted with his smooth face and +cropped head that she took her own measures to be revenged, and the +poor king was compelled to obtain a divorce from her. She +subsequently gave her hand to the Count of Anjou, afterwards Henry +II of England, and the rich provinces of Poitou and Guienne were +her dowry. From this sprang those terrible wars which continued for +three centuries, and cost France untold treasure and three millions +of men—and all because Louis did not consult his consort +before shaving off his beard!</p> +<p>Charles the Fifth of Spain ascending the throne while yet a mere +boy, his courtiers shaved their beards in compliment to the +king’s smooth face. But some of the shaven Dons were wont to +say bitterly, “Since we have lost our beards, we have lost +our souls!” Sully, the eminent statesman and soldier, +scorned, however, to follow the fashion, and, being one day +summoned to Court on urgent business of State, his beard was made +the subject of ridicule by the foppish courtiers. The veteran thus +gravely addressed the king: “Sire, when your father, of +glorious memory, did me the honour to consult me in grave State +matters, he first dismissed the buffoons and stage-dancers from the +presence-chamber.” It may be readily supposed that after this +well-merited rebuke the grinning courtiers at once disappeared.</p> +<p>Julius II, one of the most warlike of all the Roman Pontiffs, +was the first Pope who permitted his beard to grow, to inspire the +faithful with still greater <span class="pagenum"><a id="page342" +name="page342"></a>[pg 342]</span>respect for his august person. +Kings and their courtiers were not slow to follow the example of +the Head of the Church and the ruler of kings, and the fashion soon +spread among people of all ranks.</p> +<p>So highly prized was the beard in former times that Baldwin, +Prince of Edessa, as Nicephorus relates in his Chronicle, pawned +his beard for a large sum of money, which was redeemed by his +father Gabriel, Prince of Melitene, to prevent the ignominy which +his son must have suffered by its loss. And when Juan de Castro, +the Portuguese admiral, borrowed a thousand pistoles from the +citizens of Goa he pledged one of his whiskers, saying, “All +the gold in the world cannot equal this natural ornament of my +valour.” And it is said the people of Goa were so much +affected by the noble message that they remitted the money and +returned the whisker—though of what earthly use it could +prove to the gallant admiral, unless, perhaps, to stuff a tennis +ball, it is not easy to say.</p> +<p>To deprive a man of his beard was a token of ignominious +subjection, and is still a common mode of punishment in some +Asiatic countries. And such was the treatment that the conjuror +Pinch received at the hands of Antipholus of Ephesus and his man, +in the <i>Comedy of Errors</i>, according to the servant’s +account of the outrage, who states that not only had they +“beaten the maids a-row,” but they</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p class="i16">bound the doctor,</p> +<p>Whose beard they have singed off with brands of fire;</p> +<p>And ever as it blazed they threw on him</p> +<p>Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair (v, 1).</p> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page343" name="page343"></a>[pg +343]</span>In Persia and India when a wife is found to have been +unfaithful, her hair—the distinguishing ornament of woman, as +the beard is considered to be that of man—is shaved off, +among other indignities.</p> +<p>Don Sebastian Cobbarruvius gravely relates the following +marvellous legend to show that nothing so much disgraced a Spaniard +as pulling his beard: “A noble of that nation dying (his name +Cid Lai Dios), a Jew, who hated him much in his lifetime, stole +privately into the room where his body was laid out, and, thinking +to do what he never durst while living, stooped down and plucked +his beard; at which the body started up, and drawing out half way +his sword, which lay beside him, put the Jew in such a fright that +he ran out of the room as if a thousand devils had been behind him. +This done, the body lay down as before to rest; and,” adds +the veracious chronicler, “the Jew after that turned +Christian.”—In the third of Don Quevedo’s Visions +of the Last Judgment, we read that a Spaniard, after receiving +sentence, was taken into custody by a pair of demons who happened +to disorder the set of his moustache, and they had to re-compose +them with a pair of curling-tongs before they could get him to +proceed with them!</p> +<p>By the rules of the Church of Rome, lay monks were compelled to +wear their beards, and only the priests were permitted to +shave.<a href="#fn_160" id="fnm_160" name= +"fnm_160"><sup>160</sup></a> The clergy at length <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page344" name="page344"></a>[pg 344]</span>became +so corrupt and immoral, and lived such scandalous lives, that they +could not be distinguished from the laity except by their +close-shaven faces. The first Reformers, therefore, to mark their +separation from the Romish Church, allowed their beards to grow. +Calvin, Fox, Cranmer, and other leaders of the Reformation are all +represented in their portraits with long flowing beards. John Knox, +the great Scottish Reformer, wore, as is well known, a beard of +prodigious length.</p> +<p>The ancient Britons shaved the chin and cheeks, but wore their +moustaches down to the breast. Our Saxon ancestors wore forked +beards. The Normans at the Conquest shaved not only the chin, but +also the back of the head. But they soon began to grow very long +beards. During the Wars of the Roses beards grew “small by +degrees and beautifully less.”</p> +<p>Queen Mary of England, in the year 1555, sent to Moscow four +accredited agents, who were all bearded; but one of them, George +Killingworth, was particularly distinguished by a beard five feet +two inches long, at the sight of which, it is said, a smile crossed +the grim features of Ivan the Terrible himself; and no wonder. But +the longest beard known out of fairy tales was <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page345" name="page345"></a>[pg 345]</span>that of +Johann Mayo, the German painter, commonly called “John the +Bearded.” His beard actually trailed on the ground when he +stood upright, and for convenience he usually kept it tucked in his +girdle. The emperor Charles V, it is said, was often pleased to +cause Mayo to unfasten his beard and allow it to blow in the faces +of his courtiers.—A worthy clergyman in the time of Queen +Elizabeth gave as the best reason he had for wearing a beard of +enormous length, “that no act of his life might be unworthy +of the gravity of his appearance.”</p> +<p>Queen Elizabeth, in the first year of her reign, made an +abortive attempt to abolish her subjects’ beards by an impost +of 3s. 4d. a year (equivalent to four times that sum in these +“dear” days) on every beard of more than a +fortnight’s growth. And Peter the Great also laid a tax upon +beards in Russia: nobles’ beards were assessed at a rouble, +and those of commoners at a copeck each. “But such +veneration,” says Giles Fletcher, “had this people for +these ensigns of gravity that many of them carefully preserved +their beards in their cabinets to be buried with them, imagining +perhaps that they should make but an odd figure in their grave with +their naked chins.”</p> +<p>The beard of the renowned Hudibras was portentous, as we learn +from Butler, who thus describes the Knight’s hirsute +honours:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>His tawny beard was th’ equal grace</p> +<p>Both of his wisdom and his face;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page346" name="page346"></a>[pg +346]</span>In cut and dye so like a tile,</p> +<p>A sadden view it would beguile:</p> +<p>The upper part whereof was whey,</p> +<p>The nether orange mixt with grey.</p> +<p>This hairy meteor did denounce</p> +<p>The fall of sceptres and of crowns;</p> +<p>With grisly type did represent</p> +<p>Declining age of government,</p> +<p>And tell, with hieroglyphic spade,</p> +<p>Its own grave and the state’s were made.</p> +</div> +<p>Philip Nye, an Independent minister in the time of the +Commonwealth, and one of the famous Assembly of Divines, was +remarkable for the singularity of his beard. Hudibras, in his +Heroical Epistle to the lady of his “love,” speaks +of</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p class="i12">Amorous intrigues</p> +<p>In towers, and curls, and periwigs,</p> +<p>With greater art and cunning reared</p> +<p>Than Philip Nye’s <em>thanksgiving beard</em>.</p> +</div> +<p>Nye opposed Lilly the astrologer with no little virulence, for +which he was rewarded with the privilege of holding forth upon +Thanksgiving Day, and so, as Butler says, in some MS. verses,</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>He thought upon it and resolved to put</p> +<p>His beard into as wonderful a cut.</p> +</div> +<p>Butler even honoured Nye’s beard with a whole poem, +entitled “On Philip Nye’s Thanksgiving Beard,” +which is printed in his <i>Genuine Remains</i>, edited by Thyer, +vol. i, p. 177 ff., and opens thus:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>A beard is but the vizard of the face,</p> +<p>That nature orders for no other place;</p> +<p>The fringe and tassel of a countenance</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page347" name="page347"></a>[pg +347]</span>That hides his person from another man’s,</p> +<p>And, like the Roman habits of their youth,</p> +<p>Is never worn until his perfect growth.</p> +</div> +<p>And in another set of verses he has again a fling at the +obnoxious beard of the same preacher:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>This reverend brother, like a goat,</p> +<p>Did wear a tail upon his throat;</p> +<p>The fringe and tassel of a face</p> +<p>That gives it a becoming grace,</p> +<p>But set in such a curious frame,</p> +<p>As if ’twere wrought in filograin;</p> +<p>And cut so even as if ’t had been</p> +<p>Drawn with a pen upon the chin.</p> +</div> +<p>As it was customary among the peoples of antiquity who wore +their beards to cut them off, and for those who shaved to allow +their beards to grow, in times of mourning, so many of the +Presbyterians and Independents vowed not to cut their beards till +monarchy and episcopacy were utterly destroyed. Thus in a humorous +poem, entitled “The Cobler and the Vicar of Bray,” we +read:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>This worthy knight was one that swore,</p> +<p class="i2">He would not cut his beard</p> +<p>Till this ungodly nation was</p> +<p class="i2">From kings and bishops cleared.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Which holy vow he firmly kept,</p> +<p class="i2">And most devoutly wore</p> +<p>A grisly meteor on his face,</p> +<p class="i2">Till they were both no more.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>In <i>Pericles, Prince of Tyre</i>, when the royal hero leaves +his infant daughter Marina in charge of his friend Cleon, governor +of Tharsus, to be brought up <span class="pagenum"><a id="page348" +name="page348"></a>[pg 348]</span>in his house, he declares to +Cleon’s wife (Act iii, sc. 3):</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Till she be married, madam,</p> +<p>By bright Diana, whom we honour all,</p> +<p>Unscissored shall this hair of mine remain,</p> +<p>Though I show well in’t;</p> +</div> +<p>and that he meant his beard is evident from what he says at the +close of the play, when his daughter is about to be married to +Lysimachus, governor of Mitylene (Act v, sc. 3):</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p class="i16">And now</p> +<p>This ornament, that makes me look so dismal,</p> +<p>Will I, my loved Marina, clip to form;</p> +<p>And what these fourteen years no razor touched,</p> +<p>To grace thy marriage day, I’ll beautify.</p> +</div> +<p>Scott, in his <i>Woodstock</i>, represents Sir Henry Lee, of +Ditchley, whilom Ranger of Woodstock Park (or Chase), as wearing +his full beard, to indicate his profound grief for the death of the +“Royal Martyr,” which indeed was not unusual with +elderly and warmly devoted Royalists until the “Happy +Restoration”—save the mark!</p> +<p>Another extraordinary beard was that of Van Butchell, the quack +doctor, who died at London in 1814, in his 80th year. This singular +individual had his first wife’s body carefully embalmed and +preserved in a glass case in his “study,” in order that +he might enjoy a handsome annuity to which he was entitled +“so long as his wife remained above ground.” His person +was for many years familiar to loungers in Hyde Park, where he +appeared regularly every <span class="pagenum"><a id="page349" +name="page349"></a>[pg 349]</span>afternoon, riding on a little +pony, and wearing a magnificent beard of twenty years’ +growth, which an Oriental might well have envied, the more +remarkable in an age when shaving was so generally +practised.—A jocular epitaph was composed on “Mary Van +Butchell,” of which these lines may serve as a specimen:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>O fortunate and envied man!</p> +<p>To keep a wife beyond life’s span;</p> +<p>Whom you can ne’er have cause to blame,</p> +<p>Is ever constant and the same;</p> +<p>Who, qualities most rare, inherits</p> +<p>A wife that’s dumb, yet <em>full of spirits</em>.</p> +</div> +<p>The celebrated Dr. John Hunter is said to have embalmed the body +of Van Butchell’s first wife—for the bearded empiric +married again—and the “mummy,” in its original +glass case, is still to be seen in the Museum of the Royal College +of Surgeon’s, Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields, London.</p> +<p>It was once the fashion for gallants to dye their beards various +colours, such as yellow, red, gray, and even green. Thus in the +play of <i>Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>, Bottom the weaver +asks in what kind of beard he is to play the part of +Pyramis—whether “in your straw-coloured beard, your +orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French +crown-coloured beard, your perfect yellow?” (Act i, sc. 2.) +In ancient church pictures, and in the miracle plays performed in +medieval times, both Cain and Judas Iscariot were always +represented with yellow beards. In the <i>Merry Wives of +Windsor</i>, <span class="pagenum"><a id="page350" name= +"page350"></a>[pg 350]</span>Mistress Quickly asks Simple whether +his master (Slender) does not wear “a great round beard, like +a glover’s paring-knife,” to which he replies: +“No, forsooth; he hath but a little wee face, with a little +yellow beard—a Cain-coloured beard” (Act i, sc. +4).—Allusions to beards are of very frequent occurrence in +Shakspeare’s plays, as may be seen by reference to any good +Concordance, such as that of the Cowden Clarkes.</p> +<p>Harrison, in his <i>Description of England</i>, ed. 1586, p. +172, thus refers to the vagaries of fashion of beards in his time: +“I will saie nothing of our heads, which sometimes are +polled, sometimes curled, or suffered to grow at length like womans +lockes, manie times cut off, above or under the eares, round as by +a woodden dish. Neither will I meddle with our varietie of beards, +of which some are shaven from the chin like those of Turks, not a +few cut short like to the beard of marques Otto, some made round +like a rubbing brush, others with a <em>pique de vant</em> (O fine +fashion!), or now and then suffered to grow long, the barbers being +growen to be so cunning in this behalfe as the tailors. And +therfore if a man have a leane and streight face, a marquesse +Ottons cut will make it broad and large; if it be platter like, a +long slender beard will make it seeme the narrower; if he be wesell +becked, then much heare left on the cheekes will make the owner +looke big like a bowdled hen, and so grim as a +goose.”<a href="#fn_161" id="fnm_161" name= +"fnm_161"><sup>161</sup></a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page351" name="page351"></a>[pg +351]</span>Barnaby Rich, in the conclusion of his <i>Farewell to +the Military Profession</i> (1581), says that the young gallants +sometimes had their beards “cutte rounde, like a Philippes +doler; sometymes square, like the kinges hedde in Fishstreate; +sometymes so neare the skinne, that a manne might judge by his face +the gentlemen had had verie pilde lucke.”<a href="#fn_162" +id="fnm_162" name="fnm_162"><sup>162</sup></a></p> +<p>In Taylor’s <i>Superbiae Flagellum</i> we find the +following amusing description of the different “cuts” +of beards:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Now a few lines to paper I will put,</p> +<p>Of mens Beards strange and variable cut:</p> +<p>In which there’s some doe take as vaine a Pride,</p> +<p>As almost in all other things beside.</p> +<p>Some are reap’d most substantiall, like a brush,</p> +<p>Which makes a Nat’rall wit knowne by the bush:</p> +<p>(And in my time of some men I have heard,</p> +<p>Whose wisedome have bin onely wealth and beard)</p> +<p>Many of these the proverbe well doth fit,</p> +<p>Which sayes Bush naturall, More haire then wit.</p> +<p>Some seeme as they were starched stiffe and fine,</p> +<p>Like to the bristles of some angry swine:</p> +<p>And some (to set their Loves desire on edge)</p> +<p>Are cut and prun’de like to a quickset hedge.</p> +<p>Some like a spade, some like a forke, some square,</p> +<p>Some round, some mow’d like stubble, some starke bare,</p> +<p>Some sharpe Steletto fashion, dagger like,</p> +<p>That may with whispering a mans eyes out pike:</p> +<p>Some with the hammer cut, or Romane T,<a href="#fn_163" id= +"fnm_163" name="fnm_163"><sup>163</sup></a></p> +<p>Their beards extravagant reform’d must be,</p> +<p>Some with the quadrate, some triangle fashion,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page352" name="page352"></a>[pg +352]</span>Some circular, some ovall in translation,</p> +<p>Some perpendicular in longitude,</p> +<p>Some like a thicket for their crassitude,</p> +<p>That heights, depths, bredths, triforme, square, ovall, +round,</p> +<p>And rules Ge’metricall in beards are found.</p> +<p>Besides the upper lip’s strange variation,</p> +<p>Corrected from mutation to mutation;</p> +<p>As ’twere from tithing unto tithing sent,</p> +<p>Pride gives to Pride continuall punishment.</p> +<p>Some (spite their teeth) like thatch’d eves downeward +grows,</p> +<p>And some growes upwards in despite their nose.</p> +<p>Some their mustatioes of such length doe keepe,</p> +<p>That very well they may a maunger sweepe:</p> +<p>Which in Beere, Ale, or Wine, they drinking plunge,</p> +<p>And sucke the liquor up, as ’twere a Spunge;</p> +<p>But ’tis a Slovens beastly Pride, I thinke,</p> +<p>To wash his beard where other men must drinke.</p> +<p>And some (because they will not rob the cup),</p> +<p>Their upper chaps like pot hookes are turn’d up;</p> +<p>The Barbers thus (like Taylers) still must be,</p> +<p>Acquainted with each cuts variety—</p> +<p>Yet though with beards thus merrily I play,</p> +<p>’Tis onely against Pride which I inveigh:</p> +<p>For let them weare their haire or their attire,</p> +<p>According as their states or mindes desire,</p> +<p>So as no puff’d up Pride their hearts possesse,</p> +<p>And they use Gods good gifts with thankfulnesse.<a href= +"#fn_164" id="fnm_164" name="fnm_164"><sup>164</sup></a></p> +</div> +<p>The staunch Puritan Phillip Stubbes, in the second part of his +<i>Anatomie of Abuses</i> (1583), thus rails at the beards and the +barbers of his day:</p> +<p>“There are no finer fellowes under the sunne, nor experter +in their noble science of barbing than they be. And therefore in +the fulnes of their overflowing <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page353" name="page353"></a>[pg 353]</span>knowledge (oh ingenious +heads, and worthie to be dignified with the diademe of follie and +vaine curiositie), they have invented such strange fashions and +monstrous maners of cuttings, trimings, shavings and washings, that +you would wonder to see. They have one maner of cut called the +French cut, another the Spanish cut, one called the Dutch cut, +another the Italian, one the newe cut, another the old, one of the +bravado fashion, another of the meane fashion. One a gentlemans +cut, another the common cut, one cut of the court, another of the +country, with infinite the like vanities, which I overpasse. They +have also other kinds of cuts innumerable; and therefore when you +come to be trimed, they will aske you whether you will be cut to +looke terrible to your enimie, or amiable to your freend, grime and +sterne in countenance, or pleasant and demure (for they have divers +kinds of cuts for all these purposes, or else they lie). Then when +they have done all their feats, it is a world to consider, how +their mowchatowes [<i>i.e.</i>, moustaches] must be preserved and +laid out, and from one cheke to another, yea, almost from one eare +to another, and turned up like two hornes towards the forehead. +Besides that, when they come to the cutting of the haire, what +snipping and snapping of the cycers is there, what tricking and +toying, and all to tawe out mony, you may be sure. And when they +come to washing, oh how gingerly they behave themselves therein. +For then shall your mouth be bossed with the lather or fome that +riseth of the balle (for they have their sweet balles wherewith-all +they use to washe), your eyes closed must be anointed therewith +also. Then snap go the fingers ful bravely, God wot. Thus this +tragedy ended, comes me warme clothes, to wipe and dry him withall; +next the eares must be picked and closed againe togither +artificially forsooth. The haire of the nostrils cut away, and +every thing done in order comely to behold. The last action in this +tragedie is the paiment of monie. And least these cunning barbers +might seeme unconscionable in asking much for their paines, they +are of such a shamefast modestie, as they will aske nothing at all, +but standing to the curtisie and liberalitie of the giver, they +will receive all that comes, how much soever it be, not giving anie +againe, I warrant you: for take a barber with that fault, and +strike off his head. No, no, such fellowes are <em>Rarae aves in +terris, nigrisque similimi cygnis</em>, Rare birds upon the earth, +and as geason as blacke swans. You shall have also your orient +perfumes for your nose, your fragrant waters for your face, +wherewith you shall bee all to besprinkled, your musicke againe, +and pleasant harmonic, shall sound in your eares, and all to tickle +the same with vaine delight. And in the end your cloke shall be +brushed, and ‘God be with you +Gentleman!’”<a href="#fn_165" id="fnm_165" name= +"fnm_165"><sup>165</sup></a></p> +<p class="spacedTop">A very curious Ballad of the Beard, of the +time of Charles I, if not earlier, is reproduced in <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page355" name="page355"></a>[pg +355]</span><i>Satirical Songs and Poems on Costume</i>, edited by +F. W. Fairholt, for the Percy Society, in which “the varied +forms of beards which characterised the profession of each man are +amusingly descanted on”:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The beard, thick or thin, on the lip or the chin,</p> +<p class="i2">Doth dwell so near the tongue,</p> +<p>That her silence in the beards defence</p> +<p class="i2">May do her neighbour wrong.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Now a beard is a thing that commands in a king,</p> +<p class="i2">Be his sceptre ne’er so fair:</p> +<p>Where the beard bears the sway the people obey,</p> +<p class="i2">And are subject to a hair.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>’Tis a princely sight, and a grave delight,</p> +<p class="i2">That adorns both young and old;</p> +<p>A well-thatcht face is a comely grace,</p> +<p class="i2">And a shelter from the cold.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>When the piercing north comes thundering forth,</p> +<p class="i2">Let a barren face beware;</p> +<p>For a trick it will find, with a razor of wind,</p> +<p class="i2">To shave a face that’s bare.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But there’s many a nice and strange device</p> +<p class="i2">That doth the beard disgrace;</p> +<p>But he that is in such a foolish sin</p> +<p class="i2">Is a traitor to his face.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Now of beards there be such company,</p> +<p class="i2">And fashions such a throng,</p> +<p>That it is very hard to handle a beard,</p> +<p class="i2">Tho’ it be never so long.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The Roman T, in its bravery,</p> +<p class="i2">Both first itself disclose,</p> +<p>But so high it turns, that oft it burns</p> +<p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page356" name= +"page356"></a>[pg 356]</span>With the flames of a torrid nose.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The stiletto-beard, oh, it makes me afear’d,</p> +<p class="i2">It is so sharp beneath,</p> +<p>For he that doth place a dagger in ’s face,</p> +<p class="i2">What wears he in his sheath?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But, methinks, I do itch to go thro’ the stitch</p> +<p class="i2">The needle-beard to amend,</p> +<p>Which, without any wrong, I may call too long,</p> +<p class="i2">For a man can see no end.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The soldier’s beard doth march in shear’d,</p> +<p class="i2">In figure like a spade,</p> +<p>With which he’ll make his enemies quake,</p> +<p class="i2">And think their graves are made.</p> +</div> +<hr class="short" /> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>What doth invest a bishop’s breast,</p> +<p class="i2">But a milk-white spreading hair?</p> +<p>Which an emblem may be of integrity</p> +<p class="i2">Which doth inhabit there.</p> +</div> +<hr class="short" /> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But oh, let us tarry for the beard of King Harry,</p> +<p class="i2">That grows about the chin,</p> +<p>With his bushy pride, and a grove on each side,</p> +<p class="i2">And a champion ground between.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>“Barnes in the defence of the Berde” is another +curious piece of verse, or rather of arrant doggrel, printed in the +16th century. It is addressed to Andrew Borde, the learned and +facetious physician, in the time of Henry VIII, who seems to have +written a tract against the wearing of beards, of which nothing is +now known. In the second part Barnes (whoever he was) says:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But, syr, I praye you, yf you tell can,</p> +<p>Declare to me, when God made man,</p> +<p>(I meane by our forefather Adam)</p> +<p>Whyther he had a berde than;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page357" name="page357"></a>[pg +357]</span>And yf he had, who dyd hym shave,</p> +<p>Syth that a barber he coulde not have.</p> +<p>Well, then, ye prove hym there a knave,</p> +<p>Bicause his berde he dyd so save:</p> +<p class="i12">I fere it not.</p> +</div> +<hr class="short" /> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Sampson, with many thousandes more</p> +<p>Of auncient phylosophers (!), full great store,</p> +<p>Wolde not be shaven, to dye therefore;</p> +<p>Why shulde you, then, repyne so sore?</p> +<p>Admit that men doth imytate</p> +<p>Thynges of antyquité, and noble state,</p> +<p>Such counterfeat thinges oftymes do mytygate</p> +<p>Moche ernest yre and debate:</p> +<p class="i12">I fere it not.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Therefore, to cease, I thinke be best;</p> +<p>For berdyd men wolde lyve in rest.</p> +<p>You prove yourselfe a homly gest,</p> +<p>So folysshely to rayle and jest;</p> +<p>For if I wolde go make in ryme,</p> +<p>How new shavyd men loke lyke scraped swyne,</p> +<p>And so rayle forth, from tyme to tyme,</p> +<p>A knavysshe laude then shulde be myne:</p> +<p class="i12">I fere it not.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>What should this avail him? he asks; and so let us all be good +friends, bearded and unbearded.<a href="#fn_166" id="fnm_166" name= +"fnm_166"><sup>166</sup></a></p> +<p>But Andrew Borde, if he did ever write a tract against beards, +must have formerly held a different opinion on the subject, for in +his <i>Breviary of Health</i>, <span class="pagenum"><a id= +"page358" name="page358"></a>[pg 358]</span>first printed in 1546, +he says: “The face may have many impediments. The first +impediment is to see a man having no beard, and a woman to have a +beard.” It was long a popular notion that the few hairs which +are sometimes seen on the chins of very old women signified that +they were in league with the arch-enemy of mankind—in plain +English, that they were witches. The celebrated Three Witches who +figure in <i>Macbeth</i>, “and palter with him in a double +sense,” had evidently this distinguishing mark, for says +Banquo to the “weird sisters” (Act i, sc. 2):</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p class="i16">You should be women,</p> +<p>And yet your beards forbid me to interpret</p> +<p>That you are so.</p> +</div> +<p>And in the ever-memorable scene in the <i>Merry Wives of +Windsor</i>, when Jack Falstaff, disguised as the fat woman of +Brentford, is escaping from Ford’s house, he is cuffed and +mauled by Ford, who exclaims, “Hang her, witch!” on +which the honest Cambrian Sir Hugh Evans sapiently remarks: +“Py yea and no, I think the ‘oman is a witch indeed. I +like not when a ‘oman has a great peard. I spy a great peard +under her muffler!” (Act iv, sc. 2.)</p> +<p>There have been several notable bearded women in different parts +of Europe. The Duke of Saxony had the portrait painted of a poor +Swiss woman who had a remarkably fine, large beard. Bartel +Græfjë, of Stuttgart, who was born in 1562, was another +bearded woman. In 1726 there appeared at Vienna a female dancer +with a large bushy beard. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page359" +name="page359"></a>[pg 359]</span>Charles XII of Sweden had in his +army a woman who wore a beard a yard and a half in length. In 1852 +Mddle. Bois de Chêne, who was born at Genoa in 1834, was +exhibited in London: she had “a profuse head of hair, a +strong black beard, and large bushy whiskers.” It is not +unusual to see dark beauties in our own country with a moustache +which must be the envy of “young shavers.” And, +<em>apropos</em>, the poet Rogers is said to have had a great +dislike of ladies’ beards, such as this last described; and +he happened to be in a circulating library turning over the books +on the counter, when a lady, who seemed to cherish her beard with +as much affection as the young gentlemen aforesaid, alighted from +her carriage, and, entering the shop, asked the librarian for a +certain book. The polite man of books replied that he was sorry he +had not a copy at present. “But,” said Roger, slily, +“you have the <i>Barber of Seville</i>, have you not?” +“O yes,” said the bookseller, not seeing the +poet’s drift, “I have the <i>Barber of Seville</i>, +very much at your ladyship’s service.” The lady drove +away, evidently much offended, but the beard afterwards +disappeared. Talking of barbers—but they deserve a whole +paper to themselves, and they shall have it, from me, some day, if +I live a little longer.</p> +<p class="spacedTop">In No. 331 of the <i>Spectator</i>, Addison +tells us how his friend Sir Roger de Coverley, in Westminster +Abbey, pointing to the bust of a venerable old man, <span class= +"pagenum"><a id="page360" name="page360"></a>[pg 360]</span>asked +him whether he did not think “our ancestors looked much wiser +in their beards than we without them. For my part,” said he, +“when I am walking in my gallery in the country, and see my +ancestors, who many of them died before they were my age, I cannot +forbear regarding them as so many patriarchs, and at the same time +looking upon myself as an idle, smock-faced young fellow. I love to +see your Abrahams, your Isaacs, and your Jacobs, as we have them in +old pieces of tapestry, with beards below their girdles, that cover +half the hangings.”</p> +<p class="spacedTop">During most part of last century close shaving +was general throughout Europe. In France the beard began to appear +on the faces of Bonaparte’s “braves,” and the +fashion soon extended to civilians, then to Italy, Germany, Spain, +Russia, and lastly to England, where, after the gradual enlargement +of the side-whiskers, the full beard is now commonly worn—to +the comfort and health of the wearers.</p> +<hr /> +<h2><a name="Footnotes" id="Footnotes"></a>Footnotes</h2> +<div class="footnotes"> +<ol> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_1" name="fn_1"></a>One reason, doubtless, for Persian +and Turkish poets adopting a <em>takhallus</em> is the custom of +the poet introducing his name into every ghazal he composes, +generally towards the end; and as his proper name would seldom or +never accommodate itself to purposes of verse he selects a more +suitable one. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_1">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_2" name="fn_2"></a>A dínar is a gold coin, +worth about ten shillings of our money. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_2">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_3" name="fn_3"></a>Referring to the custom of throwing +small coins among crowds in the street on the occasion of a +wedding. A dirham is a coin nearly equal in value to sixpence of +our money. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_3">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_4" name="fn_4"></a>The nightingale. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_4">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_5" name="fn_5"></a> In the original Turkish:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p><em>Dinleh bulbul kissa sen kim gildi eiyami +behár!</em></p> +<p><em>Kurdi her bir baghda hengamei hengami behár;</em></p> +<p><em>Oldi sim afshan ana ezhari badami behár:</em></p> +<p><em>Ysh u nush it kim gicher kalmaz bu eiyami +behár.</em></p> +</div> +<p>Here we have an example of the <em>redíf</em>, which is +common in Turkish and Persian poetry, and “consists of one or +more words, always the same, added to the end of every rhyming line +in a poem, which word or words, though counting in the scansion, +are not regarded as the true rhyme, which must in every case be +sought for immediately before them. The lines—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>There shone such truth about thee,</p> +<p>I did not dare to doubt thee—</p> +</div> +<p>furnish an example of this in English poetry.” In the +opening verse of Mesíhí’s ode, as above +transliterated in European characters, the <em>redíf</em> is +“behár,” or spring, and the word which precedes +it is the true rhyme-ending. Sir William Jones has made an elegant +paraphrase of this charming ode, in which, however, he diverges +considerably from the original, as will be seen from his rendering +of the first stanza:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Hear how the nightingale, on every spray,</p> +<p>Hails in wild notes the sweet return of May!</p> +<p>The gale, that o’er yon waving almond blows,</p> +<p>The verdant bank with silver blossoms strows;</p> +<p>The smiling season decks each flowery glade—</p> +<p>Be gay; too soon the flowers of spring will fade. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_5">Return</a></span></p> +</div> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_6" name="fn_6"></a>Hátim was chief of the +Arabian tribe of Taï, shortly before Muhammed began to +promulgate Islám, renowned for his extraordinary liberality. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_6">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_7" name="fn_7"></a>Auvaiyár, the celebrated +poetess of the Tamils (in Southern India), who is said to have +flourished in the ninth century, says, in her poem entitled +<i>Nalvali</i>:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Mark this: who lives beyond his means</p> +<p>Forfeits respect, loses his sense;</p> +<p>Where’er he goes through the seven births,</p> +<p>All count him knave; him women scorn. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_7">Return</a></span></p> +</div> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_8" name="fn_8"></a>“All perishes except +learning.”—<i>Auvaiyár</i>. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_8">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_9" name="fn_9"></a>“Learning is really the most +valuable treasure.—A wise man will never cease to +learn.—He who has attained learning by free self-application +excels other philosophers.—Let thy learning be thy best +friend.—What we have learned in youth is like writing cut in +stone.—If all else should be lost, what we have learned will +never be lost.—Learn one thing after another, but not +hastily.—Though one is of low birth, learning will make him +respected.”—<i>Auvaiyár</i>. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_9">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_10" name="fn_10"></a>There is a similar story to this +in one of our old English jest-books, <i>Tales and Quicke +Answeres</i>, 1535, as follows (I have modernised the spelling): As +an astronomer [<i>i.e.</i> an astrologer] sat upon a time in the +market place, and took upon him to divine and to show what their +fortunes and chances should be that came to him, there came a +fellow and told him (as it was indeed) that thieves had broken into +his house, and had borne away all that he had. These tidings +grieved him so sore that, all heavy and sorrowfully, he rose up and +went his way. When the fellow saw him do so, he said: “O thou +foolish and mad man! goest thou about to divine other men’s +matters, and art ignorant of thine own?” <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_10">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_11" name="fn_11"></a>The sayings of Buzurjmihr, the +sagacious prime minister of King Núshírván, +are often cited by Persian writers, and a curious story of his +precocity when a mere youth is told in the <i>Latá’yif +at-Taw’áyif</i>, a Persian collection, made by +Al-Káshifí, of which a translation will be found in +my “Analogues and Variants” of the Tales in vol. iii of +Sir R. F. Burton’s <i>Supplemental Arabian Nights</i>, pp. +567-9—too long for reproduction here. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_11">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_12" name="fn_12"></a>Simonides used to say that he +never regretted having held his tongue, but very often had he felt +sorry for having spoken.—<i>Stobæus</i>: Flor. xxxiii, +12. <span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_12">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_13" name="fn_13"></a>The name of a musical instrument. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_13">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_14" name="fn_14"></a>The fancied love of the +nightingale for the rose is a favourite theme of Persian poets. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_14">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_15" name="fn_15"></a>Cf. the fable of Anianus: After +laughing all summer at her toil, the Grasshopper came in winter to +borrow part of the Ant’s store of food. “Tell +me,” said the Ant, “what you did in the summer?” +“I sang,” replied the Grasshopper. +“Indeed,” rejoined the Ant. “Then you may dance +and keep yourself warm during the winter.” <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_15">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_16" name="fn_16"></a>Auvaiyár, the celebrated +Indian poetess, in her <i>Nalvali</i>, says:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Hark! ye who vainly toil and wealth</p> +<p>Amass—O sinful men, the soul</p> +<p>Will leave its nest; where then will be</p> +<p>The buried treasure that you lose? <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_16">Return</a></span></p> +</div> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_17" name="fn_17"></a>“Comprehensive talkers are +apt to be tiresome when we are not athirst for information; but, to +be quite fair, we must admit that superior reticence is a good deal +due to the lack of matter. Speech is often barren, but silence does +not necessarily brood over a full nest. Your still fowl, blinking +at you without remark, may all the while be sitting on one addled +nest-egg; and when it takes to cackling will have nothing to +announce but that addled delusion.”—George +Eliot’s <i>Felix Holt</i>. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_17">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_18" name="fn_18"></a>The cow is sacred among the +Hindús. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_18">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_19" name="fn_19"></a>Thus also Jámí, in +his <i>Baháristán</i> (Second “Garden”): +“With regard to a secret divulged and one kept concealed, +there is in use an excellent proverb, that the one is an arrow +still in our possession, and the other is an arrow sent from the +bow.” And another Persian poet, whose name I have not +ascertained, eloquently exclaims: “O my heart! if thou +desirest ease in this life, keep thy secrets undisclosed, like the +modest rose-bud. Take warning from that lovely flower, which, by +expanding its hitherto hidden beauties when in full bloom, gives +its leaves and its happiness to the winds.” <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_19">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_20" name="fn_20"></a>Is such a thing as an emerald +made worse than it was if it is not praised?—<i>Marcus +Aurelius</i>.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>If glass be used to decorate a crown,</p> +<p>While gems are taken to bedeck a foot,</p> +<p>’Tis not that any fault lies in the gem,</p> +<p>But in the want of knowledge of the setter.</p> +</div> +<p class="rgt">—<i>Panchatantra</i>, a famous Indian book of +Fables. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_20">Return</a></span></p> +</div> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_21" name="fn_21"></a>The Súfís are the +mystics of Islám, and their poetry, while often externally +anacreontic—bacchanalian and erotic—possesses an +esoteric, spiritual signification: the sensual world is employed to +symbolise that which is to be apprehended only by the +<em>inward</em> sense. Most of the great poets of Persia, +Afghanistán, and Turkey are generally understood to have +been Súfís. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_21">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_22" name="fn_22"></a>Sir Gore Ouseley’s +<i>Biographical Notices of Persian Poets</i>. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_22">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_23" name="fn_23"></a>Cf. these lines, from +Herrick’s “Hesperides”:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>But you are <em>lovely leaves</em>, where we</p> +<p class="i2">May read, how soon things have</p> +<p class="i2">Their end, tho’ ne’er so brave;</p> +<p>And after they have shown their pride,</p> +<p class="i2">Like you, a while, they glide</p> +<p class="i8">Into the grave. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_23">Return</a></span></p> +</div> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_24" name="fn_24"></a>“In the name of God” +is part of the formula employed by pious Muslims in their acts of +worship, and on entering upon any enterprise of danger or +uncertainty—<em>bi’smi’llahi ar-rahman +ar-rahimi</em>, “In the name of God, the Merciful, the +Compassionate!” These words are usually placed at the +beginning of Muhammedan books, secular as well as religions; and +they form part of the Muslim Confession of Faith, used in the last +extremity: “In the name of God, the Merciful, the +Compassionate! There is no strength nor any power save in God, the +High, the Mighty. To God we belong, and verily to him we +return!” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_24">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_25" name="fn_25"></a>“Bear in mind,” says +Thorkel to Bork, in the Icelandic saga of Gisli the Outlaw, +“bear in mind that a woman’s counsel is always +unlucky.”—On the other hand, quoth Panurge, +“Truly I have found a great deal of good in the counsel of +women, chiefly in that of the old wives among them.” +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_25">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_26" name="fn_26"></a>The Khoja was contemporary with +the renowned conqueror of nations, Tímúr, or +Tímúrleng, or, as the name is usually written in this +country, Tamarlane, though there does not appear to be any +authority that he was the official jester at the court of that +monarch, as some writers have asserted. The pleasantries ascribed +to the Khoja—the title now generally signifies Teacher, or +School-master, but formerly it was somewhat equivalent to our +“Mr,” or, more familiarly, +“Goodman”—have been completely translated into +French. Of course, a large proportion of the jests have been taken +from Arabian and Persian collections, though some are doubtless +genuine; and they represent the Khoja as a curious compound of +shrewdness and simplicity. A number of the foolish sayings and +doings fathered on him are given in my <i>Book of Noodles</i>, +1888. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_26">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_27" name="fn_27"></a>This is how the same story is +told in our oldest English jest-book, entitled <i>A Hundred Mery +Talys</i> (1525): A certain merchant and a courtier being upon a +time at dinner, having a hot custard, the courtier, being somewhat +homely of manner, took part of it and put it in his mouth, which +was so hot that it made him shed tears. The merchant, looking on +him, thought that he had been weeping, and asked him why he wept. +This courtier, not willing it to be known that he had brent his +mouth with the hot custard, answered and said, “Sir,” +quod he, “I had a brother which did a certain offence, +wherefore he was hanged.” The merchant thought the courtier +had said true, and anon, after the merchant was disposed to eat of +the custard, and put a spoonful of it into his mouth, and brent his +mouth also, that his eyes watered. This courtier, that perceiving, +spake to the merchant; and said, “Sir,” quod he, +“why do ye weep now?” The merchant perceived how he had +been deceived, and said, “Marry,” quod he, “I +weep because thou wast not hanged when that thy brother was +hanged.” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_27">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_28" name="fn_28"></a>What may be an older form of this +jest is found in the <i>Kathá Manjarí</i>, a Canarese +collection, where a wretched singer dwelling next door to a poor +woman causes her to weep and wail bitterly whenever he begins to +sing, and on his asking her why she wept, she explains that his +“golden voice” recalled to her mind her donkey that +died a month ago.—The story had found its way to our own +country more than three centuries since. In <i>Mery Tales and +Quicke Answeres</i> (1535), under the title “Of the Friar +that brayde in his Sermon,” the preacher reminds a +“poure wydowe” of her ass—all that her husband +had left her—which had been devoured by wolves, for so the +ass was wont to bray day and night. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_28">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_29" name="fn_29"></a>Messrs. W. H. Allen & Co., +London, have in the press a new edition of this work, to be +entitled “<i>Tales of the Sun; or, Popular Tales of Southern +India</i>.” I am confident that the collection will be highly +appreciated by many English readers, while its value to +story-comparers can hardly be over-rated. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_29">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_30" name="fn_30"></a>A similar incident is found in +the 8th chapter of the Spanish work, <i>El Conde Lucanor</i>, +written, in the 14th century, by Prince Don Juan Manuel, where a +pretended alchemist obtains from a king a large sum of money in +order that he should procure in his own distant country a certain +thing necessary for the transmutation of the baser metals into +gold. The impostor, of course, did not return, and so on, much the +same as in the above.—Many others of Don Manuel’s tales +are traceable to Eastern sources; he was evidently familiar with +the Arabic language, and from his long intercourse with the Moors +doubtless became acquainted with Asiatic story-books. His manner of +telling the stories is, however, wholly his own, and some of them +appear to be of his own invention.—There is a variant of the +same story in <i>Pasquils Jests and Mother Bunches Merriments</i>, +in which a servant enters his master’s name in a list of all +the fools of his acquaintance, because he had lately lent his +cousin twenty pounds. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_30">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_31" name="fn_31"></a>A variant of this occurs in the +<i>Heptameron</i>, an uncompleted work in imitation of the +<i>Decameron</i>, ascribed to Marguerite, queen of Navarre (16th +century), but her <em>valet de chambre</em> Bonaventure des Periers +is supposed to have had a hand in its composition. In Novel 55 it +is related that a merchant in Saragossa on his death-bed desired +his wife to sell a fine Spanish horse for as much as it would fetch +and give the money to the mendicant friars. After his death his +widow did not approve of such a legacy, but, in order to obey her +late husband’s will, she instructed a servant to go to the +market and offer the horse for a ducat and her cat for ninety-nine +ducats, both, however, to be sold together. A gentleman purchased +the horse and the cat, well knowing that the former was fully worth +a hundred ducats, and the widow handed over one ducat—for +which the horse was nominally sold—to the mendicant friars. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_31">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_32" name="fn_32"></a>Cardonne took this story from a +Turkish work entitled “<i>Ajá’ib +el-ma’ásir wa ghará’ib +en-nawádir</i> (the Wonders of Remarkable Incidents and +Rarities of Anecdotes),” by Ahmed ibn Hemdem Khetkhody, which +was composed for Sultan Murád IV, who reigned from +<span class="small">A.D.</span> 1623 to 1640. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_32">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_33" name="fn_33"></a>This story has been taken from +Arab Sháh into the Breslau printed Arabic text of the +<i>Thousand and One Nights</i>, where it is related at great +length. The original was rendered into French under the title of +“Ruses des Femmes” (in the Arabic <i>Ked-an-Nisa</i>, +Stratagems of Women) by Lescallier, and appended to his version of +the Voyages of Sindbád, published at Paris in 1814, long +before the Breslau text of <i>The Nights</i> was known to exist. It +also forms part of one of the Persian Tales (<i>Hazár +ú Yek Rúz</i>, 1001 Days) translated by Petis de la +Croix, where, however, the trick is played on the +kází, not on a young merchant. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_33">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_34" name="fn_34"></a>A variant of this story is found +in Le Grand’s <i>Fabliaux et Contes</i>, ed. 1781, tome iv, +p. 119, and it was probably brought from the East during the +Crusades: Maimon was a valet to a count. His master, returning home +from a tourney, met him on the way, and asked him where he was +going. He replied, with great coolness, that he was going to seek a +lodging somewhere. “A lodging!” said the count. +“What then has happened at home?” “Nothing, my +lord. Only your dog, whom you love so much, is dead.” +“How so?” “Your fine palfrey, while being +exercised in the court, became frightened, and in running fell into +the well.” “Ah, who startled the horse?” +“It was your son, Damaiseau, who fell at its feet from the +window.” “My son!—O Heaven! Where, then, were his +servant and his mother? Is he injured?” “Yes, sire, he +has been killed by falling. And when they went to tell it to +madame, she was so affected that she fell dead also without +speaking.” “Rascal! in place of flying away, why hast +thou not gone to seek assistance, or why didst thou not remain at +the chateau?” “There is no more need, sire; for +Marotte, in watching madame, fell asleep. A light caused the fire, +and there remains nothing now.”—Truly a delicate way of +“breaking ill news”! <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_34">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_35" name="fn_35"></a><i>The Dabistán, or School +of Manners</i>. Translated from the original Persian, by David Shea +and Anthony Troyer. 3 vols. Published by the Oriental Translation +Fund, 1843. Vol. i, 198-200. The author of this work is said to be +Moshan Fáni, who flourished at Hyderábád about +the end of the 18th century. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_35">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_36" name="fn_36"></a>Pedro Alfonso (the Spanish form +of his adopted name) was originally a Jewish Rabbi, and was born in +1062, at Huesca, in the kingdom of Arragon. He was reputed a man of +very great learning, and on his being baptised (at the age of 44) +was appointed by Alfonso XV, king of Castile and Leon, physician to +the royal household. His work, above referred to, is written in +Latin, and has been translated into French, but not as yet into +English. An outline of the tales, by Douce, will be found prefixed +to Ellis’ <i>Early English Metrical Romances</i>. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_36">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_37" name="fn_37"></a>This is also the subject of one +of the <i>Fabliaux</i>.—In a form similar to the story in +Alfonsus it is current among the Milanese, and a Sicilian version +is as follows: Once upon a time there was a prince who studied and +racked his brains so much that he learned magic and the art of +finding hidden treasures. One day he discovered a treasure in +Daisisa. “O,” he says, “now I am going to get it +out.” But to get it out it was necessary that ten million +million of ants should cross the river one by one in a bark made of +the half-shell of a nut. The prince puts the bark in the river, and +makes the ants pass over—one, two, three; and they are still +doing it. Here the story-teller pauses and says: “We will +finish the story when the ants have finished crossing the +river.”—Crane’s <i>Italian Popular Tales</i>, p. +156. <span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_37">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_38" name="fn_38"></a>This last jest reappears in the +apocryphal Life of Esop, by Planudes, the only difference being +that Esop’s master is invited to a feast, instead of +receiving a present of game, upon which Esop exclaims: “Alas! +I see two crows, and I am beaten; you see one, and are asked to a +feast. What a delusion is augury!” <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_38">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_39" name="fn_39"></a>This tale is found in the early +Italian novelists, slightly varied, and it was doubtless introduced +by Venetian merchants from the Levant: A parrot belonging to Count +Fiesco was discovered one day stealing some roast meat from the +kitchen. The enraged cook, overtaking him, threw a kettle of +boiling water at him, which completely scalded all the feathers +from his head, and left the poor bird with a bare poll. Some time +afterwards, as Count Fiesco was engaged in conversation with an +abbot, the parrot, observing the shaven crown of his reverence, +hopped up to him and said: “What! do <em>you</em> like roast +meat too?”</p> +<p>In another form the story is orally current in the North of +England. Dr. Fryer tells it to this effect, in his charming +<i>English Fairy Tales from the North Country</i>: A grocer kept a +parrot that used to cry out to the customers that the sugar was +sanded and the butter mixed with lard. For this the bird had her +neck wrung and was thrown upon an ash-heap; but reviving and seeing +a dead cat beside her she cried: “Poor Puss! have you, too, +suffered for telling the truth?”</p> +<p>There is yet another variant of this droll tale, which has been +popular for generations throughout England, and was quite recently +reproduced in an American journal as a genuine “nigger” +story: In olden times there was a roguish baker who made many of +his loaves less than the regulation weight, and one day, on +observing the government inspector coming along the street, he +concealed the light loaves in a closet. The inspector having found +the bread on the counter of the proper weight, was about to leave, +when a parrot, which the baker kept in his shop, cried out: +“Light bread in the closet!” This caused a search to be +made, and the baker was heavily fined. Full of fury, the baker +seized the parrot, wrung its neck, and threw it in his back yard, +near the carcase of a pig that had died of the measles. The parrot, +coming to itself again, observed the dead porker and inquired in a +tone of sympathy: “O poor piggy, didst thou, too, tell about +light bread in the closet?” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_39">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_40" name="fn_40"></a>In the Rev. J. Hinton +Knowles’ <i>Folk-Tales of Kashmír</i> a merchant gives +his stupid son a small coin with which he is to purchase something +to eat, something to drink, something to gnaw, something to sow in +the garden, and some food for the cow. A clever young girl advises +him to buy a water-melon, which would answer all the purposes +required.—P. 145. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_40">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_41" name="fn_41"></a>Ziyáu-’d-Dín +Nakhshabí, so called from Nakhshab, or Nasaf, the modern +Kashí, a town situated between Samarkand and the Oxus, led a +secluded life in Badá’um, and died, as stated by +’Abdal-Hakk, <span class="small">A.H.</span> 751 +(<span class="small">A.D.</span> 1350-1).—Dr. Rieu’s +<i>Catalogue of Persian MSS. in the British Museum</i>.—In +1792 the Rev. B. Gerrans published an English translation of twelve +of the fifty-two tales comprised in the <i>Tútí +Náma</i>, but the work is now best known in Persia and India +from an abridgment made by Kádirí in the last +century, which was printed, with a translation, at London in 1801. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_41">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_42" name="fn_42"></a>“He that has money in the +scales,” says Saádí, “has strength in his +arms, and he who has not the command of money is destitute of +friends in the world.”—Hundreds of similar sarcastic +observations on the power of wealth might be cited from the +Hindú writers, such as: “He who has riches has +friends; he who has riches has relations; he who has riches <em>is +even a sage</em>!” The following verses in praise of money +are, I think, worth reproducing, if only for their whimsical +arrangement:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p class="cen">Honey,</p> +<p class="cen">Our Money</p> +<p class="cen">We find in the end</p> +<p class="cen">Both relation and friend;</p> +<p class="cen">’Tis a helpmate for better, for worse.</p> +<p class="cen">Neither father nor mother,</p> +<p class="cen">Nor sister nor brother,</p> +<p class="cen">Nor uncles nor aunts,</p> +<p class="cen">Nor dozens</p> +<p class="cen">Of cousins,</p> +<p class="cen">Are like a friend in the purse.</p> +<p class="cen">Still regard the main chance;</p> +<p class="cen">’Tis the clink</p> +<p class="cen">Of the chink</p> +<p class="cen">Is the music to make the heart dance. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_42">Return</a></span></p> +</div> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_43" name="fn_43"></a>In a Telúgú MS., +entitled <i>Patti Vrútti Mahima</i> (the Value of Chaste +Wives), the minister of Chandra Pratápa assumes the form of +a bird owing to a curse pronounced against him by Siva, and is sold +to a merchant named Dhanadatta, whose son, Kuvéradatta, is +vicious. The bird by moral lessons reformed him for a time. They +went to a town called Pushpamayuri, where the king’s son saw +the wife of Kuveradatta when he was absent from home. An illicit +amour was about to begin, when the bird interposed by relating +tales of chaste wives, and detained the wanton lady at home till +her husband returned. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_43">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_44" name="fn_44"></a>Many Asiatic stories relate to +the concealing of treasure—generally at the foot of a tree, +to mark the spot—by two or more companions, and its being +secretly stolen by one of them. The device of the carpenter in the +foregoing tale of abducting the rascally goldsmith’s two +sons, and so on, finds an analogue in the <i>Panchatantra</i>, the +celebrated Sanskrit collection of fables (Book I, Fab. 21, of +Benfey’s German translation), where we read that a young man, +who had spent the wealth left to him by his father, had only a +heavy iron balance remaining of all his possessions, and depositing +it with a merchant went to another country. When he returned, after +some time, he went to the merchant and demanded back his balance. +The merchant told him it had been eaten by rats; adding: “The +iron of which it was composed was particularly sweet, and so the +rats ate it.” The young man, knowing that the merchant spoke +falsely, formed a plan for the recovery of his balance. One day he +took the merchant’s young son, unknown to his father, to +bathe, and left him in the care of a friend. When the merchant +missed his son he accused the young man of having stolen him, and +summoned him to appear in the king’s judgment-hall. In answer +to the merchant’s accusation, the young man asserted that a +kite had carried away the boy; and when the officers of the court +declared this to be impossible, he said: “In a country where +an iron balance was eaten by rats, a kite might well carry off an +elephant, much more a boy.” The merchant, having lost his +cause, returned the balance to the young man and received back his +boy. <span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_44">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_45" name="fn_45"></a>So, too, Bœthius, in his +<i>De Consolatione Philosophiæ</i>, says, according to +Chaucer’s translation: “All thynges seken ayen to hir +[<i>i.e.</i> their] propre course, and all thynges rejoysen on hir +retournynge agayne to hir nature.”—A tale current in +Oude, and given in <i>Indian Notes and Queries</i> for Sept. 1887, +is an illustration of the maxim that “everything returns to +its first principles”: A certain prince chose his friends out +of the lowest class, and naturally imbibed their principles and +habits. When the death of his father placed him on the throne, he +soon made his former associates his courtiers, and exacted the most +servile homage from the nobles. The old vazír, however, +despised the young king and would render none. This so exasperated +him that he called his counsellors together to advise the most +excruciating of tortures for the old man. Said one: “Let him +be flayed alive and let shoes be made of his skin.” The +vazír ejaculated on this but one word, “Origin.” +Said the next: “Let him be hacked into pieces and his limbs +cast to the dogs.” The vazír said, +“Origin.” Another advised: “Let him be forthwith +executed, and his house be levelled to the ground.” Once more +the vazír simply said, “Origin.” Then the king +turned to the rest, who declared each according to his opinion, the +vazír noticing each with the same word. At last a young man, +who had not spoken hitherto, was asked. “May it please your +Majesty,” said he, “if you ask my opinion, it is this: +Here is an aged man, and honourable from his years, family, and +position; moreover, he served in the king your father’s +court, and nursed you as a boy. It were well, considering all these +matters, to pay him respect, and render his old age +comfortable.” Again the vazír uttered the word +“Origin.” The king now demanded what he meant by it. +“Simply this, your Majesty,” responded the +vazír: “You have here the sons of shoemakers, +butchers, executioners, and so forth, and each has expressed +himself according to his father’s trade. There is but one +noble-born among them, and he has made himself conspicuous by +speaking according to the manner of his race.” The king was +ashamed, and released the vazír.—A parallel to this is +found in the Turkish <i>Qirq Vezír +Taríkhí</i>, or History of the Forty Vezírs +(Lady’s 4th Story): according to Mr. Gibb’s +translation, “All things return to their origin.” +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_45">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_46" name="fn_46"></a>Originally, Rúmelia +(Rúm Eyli) was only implied by the word <em>Rúm</em>, +but in course of time it was employed to designate the whole +Turkish empire. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_46">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_47" name="fn_47"></a>If the members severed from the +golden image were to be instantly replaced by others, what need was +there for the daily appearance of the “fakír,” +as promised?—But <em>n’importe</em>! <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_47">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_48" name="fn_48"></a>Ralston’s <i>Russian +Folk-Tales</i>, p. 224, <i>note</i>. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_48">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_49" name="fn_49"></a>The same story is given by the +Comte de Caylus—but, like Noble, without stating where the +original is to be found—in his <i>Contes Orientaux</i>, first +published in 1745, under the title of “Histoire de Dervich +Abounadar.” These entertaining tales are reproduced in <i>Le +Cabinet des Fées</i>, ed. 1786, tome xxv.—It will be +observed that the first part of the story bears a close resemblance +to that of our childhood’s favourite, the Arabian tale of +“Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp,” of which many +analogues and variants, both European and Asiatic, are cited in the +first volume of my <i>Popular Tales and Fictions</i>, +1887;—see also a supplementary note by me on Aladdin’s +Lamp in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, Jan. 5, 1889, p. 1. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_49">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_50" name="fn_50"></a>That is, hell. Properly, it is +Je-Hinnon, near Jerusalem, which seems to have been in ancient +times the cremation ground for human corpses. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_50">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_51" name="fn_51"></a>The italicised passages which +occur in this tale are verses in the original Persian text. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_51">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_52" name="fn_52"></a>There is a very similar story in +the Tamil <i>Alakésa Kathá</i>, a tale of a King and +his Four Ministers, but the conclusion is different: the +rájá permits all his subjects to partake of the +youth-bestowing fruit;—I wonder whether they are yet alive! A +translation of the romance of the King and his Four +Ministers—the first that has been made into +English—will be found in my <i>Group of Eastern Romances and +Stories</i>, 1889. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_52">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_53" name="fn_53"></a>In one Telúgú +version, entitled <i>Totí Náma +Cat’halú</i>, the lady kills the bird after hearing +all its tales; and in another the husband, on returning home and +learning of his wife’s intended intrigue, cuts off her head +and becomes a devotee. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_53">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_54" name="fn_54"></a>Captain R. C. Temple’s +<i>Legends of the Panjáb</i>, vol. i, p. 52 ff.; and +“Four Legends of Rájá +Rasálú,” by the Rev. C. Swynnerton, in the +<i>Folk-Lore Journal</i>, 1883, p. 141 ff. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_54">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_55" name="fn_55"></a>In midsummer, 1244, twenty waggon +loads of copies of the Talmud were burnt in France. This was in +consequence of, and four years after, a public dispute between a +certain Donin (afterwards called Nicolaus), a converted Jew, with +Rabbi Yehiel, of Paris, on the contents of the Talmud.—See +<i>Journal of Philology</i>, vol. xvi, p. 133.—In the year +1569, the famous Jewish library in Cremona was plundered, and +12,000 copies of the Talmud and other Jewish works were committed +to the flames.—<i>The Talmud</i>, by Joseph Barclay, LL. D., +London, 1875, p. 14. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_55">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_56" name="fn_56"></a>Introductory Essay to <i>Hebrew +Tales</i>, by Hyman Hurwitz; published at London in 1826. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_56">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_57" name="fn_57"></a>Commentators on the Kurán +say that Adam’s beard did not grow till after his fall, and +it was the result of his excessive sorrow and penitence. Strange to +say, he was ashamed of his beard, till he heard a voice from heaven +calling to him and saying: “The beard is man’s ornament +on earth; it distinguishes him from the feeble woman.” Thus +we ought to—should we not?—regard our beards as the +offshoots of what divines term “original sin”; and +cherish them as mementoes of the Fall of Man. Think of this, ye +effeminate ones who use the razor! <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_57">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_58" name="fn_58"></a>The notion of man being at first +androgynous, or man-woman, was prevalent in most of the countries +of antiquity. Mr. Baring-Gould says that “the idea, that man +without woman and woman without man are imperfect beings, was the +cause of the great repugnance with which the Jews and other nations +of the East regarded celibacy.” (<i>Legends of the Old +Testament</i>, vol. i, p. 22.) But this, I think, is not very +probable. The aversion of Asiatics from celibacy is rather to be +ascribed to their surroundings in primitive times, when +neighbouring clans were almost constantly at war with each other, +and those chiefs and notables who had the greatest number of sturdy +and valiant sons and grandsons would naturally be best able to hold +their own against an enemy. The system of concubinage, which seems +to have existed in the East from very remote times, is not +matrimony, and undoubtedly had its origin in the passionate desire +which, even at the present day, every Asiatic has for male +offspring. By far the most common opening of an Eastern tale is the +statement that there was a certain king, wise, wealthy, and +powerful, but though he had many beautiful wives and handmaidens, +Heaven had not yet blest him with a son, and in consequence of this +all his life was embittered, and he knew no peace day or night. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_58">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_59" name="fn_59"></a>Professor Charles Marelle, of +Berlin, in an interesting little collection, <i>Affenschwanz, +&c.; Variants orales de Contes Populaires, Français et +Etrangers</i> (Braunschweig, 1888), gives an amusing story, based +evidently on this rabbinical legend: The woman formed from +Adam’s tail proved to be as mischievous as a monkey, and gave +her spouse no peace; whereupon another was formed from a part of +his breast, and she was a decided improvement on her sister. All +the giddy girls in the world are descended from the woman who was +made from Adam’s tail. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_59">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_60" name="fn_60"></a>You and I, good reader, must +therefore have been seen by the Father of Mankind. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_60">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_61" name="fn_61"></a><i>Legends of Old Testament +Characters</i>, by S. Baring-Gould, vol. i, pp. 78, 79. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_61">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_62" name="fn_62"></a>The Muhammedan legend informs us +that Cain was afterwards slain by the blood-avenging angel. But the +Jewish traditionists say that God was at length moved by +Cain’s contrition and placed on his brow a seal, which +indicated that the fratricide was fully pardoned. Adam happened to +meet him, and observing the seal on his forehead, asked him how he +had turned aside the wrath of God. He replied: “By confession +of my sin and sincere repentance.” On hearing this Adam +exclaimed, beating his breast: “Woe is me! Is the virtue of +repentance so great and I knew it not?” <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_62">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_63" name="fn_63"></a>A garbled version of this legend +is found in the Latin <i>Gesta Romanorum</i> (it does not occur in +the Anglican versions edited by Sir F. Madden for the Roxburghe +Club, and by Mr. S. J. Herrtage for the Early English Text +Society), Tale 179, as follows: “Josephus, in his work on +‘The Causes of Things,’ says that Noah discovered the +vine in a wood, and because it was bitter he took the blood of four +animals, viz., of a lion, a lamb, a pig, and a monkey. This mixture +he united with earth and made a kind of manure, which he deposited +at the roots of the trees. Thus the blood sweetened the fruit, with +the juice of which he afterwards intoxicated himself, and lying +naked was derided by his youngest son.” <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_63">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_64" name="fn_64"></a>Luminous jewels figure frequently +in Eastern tales, and within recent years, from experiments and +observations, the phosphorescence of the diamond, sapphire, ruby, +and topaz has been fully established. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_64">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_65" name="fn_65"></a>Did the Talmudist borrow this +story from the Greek legend of the famous robber of Attica, +Procrustes, who is said to have treated unlucky travellers after +the same barbarous fashion? <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_65">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_66" name="fn_66"></a>There are two Italian stories +which bear some resemblance to this queer legend: In the fourth +novel of Arienti an advocate is fined for striking his opponent in +court, and “takes his change” by repeating the offence; +and in the second novel of Sozzini, Scacazzone, after dining +sumptuously at an inn, and learning from the waiter that the law of +that town imposed a fine of ten livres for a blow on the face, +provokes the landlord so that he gets a slap from him on the cheek, +upon which he tells Boniface to pay himself out of the fine he +should have had to pay for the blow if charged before the +magistrate, and give the rest of the money to the waiter.—A +similar story is told in an Arabian collection, of a half-witted +fellow and the kází. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_66">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_67" name="fn_67"></a>The commentators on the +Kurán have adopted this legend. But according to the +Kurán it was not Isaac, but Ishmael, the great progenitor of +the Arabs, who was to be sacrificed by Abraham. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_67">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_68" name="fn_68"></a>Commentators on the Kurán +inform us that when Joseph was released from prison, after so +satisfactorily interpreting Pharaoh’s two dreams, Potiphar +was degraded from his high office. One day, while Joseph was riding +out to inspect a granary beyond the city, he observed a +beggar-woman in the street, whose whole appearance, though most +distressing, bore distinct traces of former greatness. Joseph +approached her compassionately, and held out to her a handful of +gold. But she refused it, and said aloud: “Great prophet of +Allah, I am unworthy of this gift, although my transgression has +been the stepping-stone to thy present fortune.” At these +words Joseph regarded her more closely, and, behold, it was +Zulaykhá, the wife of his lord. He inquired after her +husband, and was told that he had died of sorrow and poverty soon +after his deposition. On hearing this, Joseph led Zulaykhá +to a relative of the king, by whom she was treated like a sister, +and she soon appeared to him as blooming as at the time of his +entrance into her house. He asked her hand of the king, and married +her, with his permission.</p> +<p>Zulaykhá was the name of Potiphar’s wife, if we may +believe Muhammedan legends, and the daughter of the king of Maghrab +(or Marocco), who gave her in marriage to the grand vazír of +the king of Egypt, and the beauteous princess was disgusted to find +him, not only very old, but, as a modest English writer puts it, +very mildly, “belonged to that unhappy class which a practice +of immemorial antiquity in the East excluded from the pleasures of +love and the hope of posterity.” This device of representing +Potiphar as being what Byron styles “a neutral +personage” was, of course, adopted by Muslim traditionists +and poets in order to “white-wash” the frail +Zulaykhá.—There are extant many Persian and Turkish +poems on the “loves” of <i>Yúsuf wa +Zulaykhá</i>, most of them having a mystical signification, +and that by the celebrated Persian poet Jámí is +universally considered as by far the best. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_68">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_69" name="fn_69"></a>Gen. xlii, 24.—It does not +appear from the sacred narrative why Joseph selected his brother +Simeon as hostage. Possibly Simeon was most eager for his death, +before he was cast into the dry well and then sold to the +Ishmaelites; and indeed both he and his brother Levi seem to have +been “a bad lot,” judging from the dying Jacob’s +description of them, Gen. xlix, 5-7. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_69">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_70" name="fn_70"></a>“Jacob’s grief” +is proverbial in Muslim countries. In the Kurán, <i>sura</i> +xii, it is stated that the patriarch became totally blind through +constant weeping for the loss of Joseph, and that his sight was +restored by means of Joseph’s garment, which the governor of +Egypt sent by his brethren.—In the <i>Makamat</i> of +Al-Harírí, the celebrated Arabian poet (<span class= +"small">A.D.</span> 1054-1122), Harith bin Hamman is represented as +saying that he passed a night of “Jacobean sorrow,” and +another imaginary character is said to have “wept more than +Jacob when he lost his son.” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_70">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_71" name="fn_71"></a>Muslims say that Pharaoh’s +seven daughters were all lepers, and that Bathia’s sisters, +as well as herself, were cured through her saving the infant +Moses.</p> +<p>According to the Hebrew traditionists, nine human beings entered +Paradise without having tasted of death, viz.: Enoch; Messiah; +Elias; Eliezer, the servant of Abraham; the servant of the king of +Kush; Hiram, king of Tyre; Jaabez, the son of the Prince, and the +Rabbi, Juda; Serach, the daughter of Asher; and Bathia, the +daughter of Pharaoh.</p> +<p>The last of the race of genuine Dublin ballad-singers, who +rejoiced in the <em>nom de guerre</em> of “Zozimus” +(<i>ob.</i> 1846), used to edify his street patrons with a slightly +different reading of the romantic story of the finding of Moses in +the bulrushes, which has the merit of striking originality, to say +the least:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>In Egypt’s land, upon the banks of Nile,</p> +<p>King Pharaoh’s daughter went to bathe in style;</p> +<p>She tuk her dip, then went unto the land,</p> +<p>And, to dry her royal pelt, she ran along the strand.</p> +<p>A bulrush tripped her, whereupon she saw</p> +<p>A smiling babby in a wad of straw;</p> +<p>She tuk it up, and said, in accents mild,</p> +<p>“<em>Tare an’ agers, gyurls, which av yez owns this +child?</em>”</p> +</div> +<p>The story of the finding of Moses has its parallels in almost +every country—in the Greek and Roman legends of Perseus, +Cyrus, and Romulus—in Indian, Persian, and Arabian +tales—and a Babylonian analogue is given, as follows, by the +Rev. A. H. Sayce, in the <i>Folk-Lore Journal</i> for 1883: +“Sargon, the mighty monarch, the king of Agané, am I. +My mother was a princess; my father I knew not. My father’s +brother loved the mountain land. In the city of Azipiranu, which on +the bank of the Euphrates lies, my mother, the princess, conceived +me; in an inacessible spot she brought me forth. She placed me in a +basket of rushes; with bitumen the door of my ark she closed. She +launched me on the river, which drowned me not. The river bore me +along; to Akki, the irrigator, it brought me. Akki, the irrigator, +in the tenderness of his heart, lifted me up. Then Akki, the +irrigator, as his gardener appointed me, and in my gardenership the +goddess Istar loved me. For forty-five years the kingdom I have +ruled, and the black-headed (Akkadian) race have governed.” +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_71">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_72" name="fn_72"></a>That the arch-fiend could, and +often did, assume various forms to lure men to their destruction +was universally believed throughout Europe during mediæval +times and even much later; generally he appeared in the form of a +most beautiful young woman; and there are still current in obscure +parts of Scotland wild legends of his having thus tempted even +godly men to sin.—In Asiatic tales rákshasas, +ghúls (ghouls), and such-like demons frequently assume the +appearance of heart-ravishing damsels in order to delude and devour +the unwary traveller. In many of our old European romances fairies +are represented as transforming themselves into the semblance of +deer, to decoy into sequestered places noble hunters of whom they +had become enamoured. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_72">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_73" name="fn_73"></a>The “Great Name” (in +Arabic, <i>El-Ism el-Aazam</i>, “the Most Great Name”), +by means of which King David was saved from a cruel death, as +above, is often employed in Eastern romances for the rescue of the +hero from deadly peril, as well as to enable him to perform +supernatural exploits. It was generally engraved on a signet-ring, +but sometimes it was communicated orally to the fortunate hero by a +holy man, or by a king of the genii—who was, of course, a +good Muslim. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_73">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_74" name="fn_74"></a>At the “mill” the man +who was plagued with a bad wife doubtless saw some labourers +threshing corn, since <em>grinding</em> corn would hardly suggest +the idea of <em>beating</em> his provoking spouse.—By the +way, this man had evidently never heard the barbarous sentiment, +expressed in the equally barbarous English popular +rhyme—composed, probably, by some beer-sodden bacon-chewer, +and therefore, in those ancient times, <em>non +inventus</em>—</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>A woman, a dog, and a walnut tree,</p> +<p>The more you beat ’em, the better they be—</p> +</div> +<p>else, what need for him to consult King Solomon about his paltry +domestic troubles? <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_74">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_75" name="fn_75"></a>A variant of this occurs in the +<i>Decameron</i> of Boccaccio, Day ix, Nov. 9, of which Dunlop +gives the following outline: Two young men repair to Jerusalem to +consult Solomon. One asks how he may be well liked, the other how +he may best manage a froward wife. Solomon advised the first to +“love others,” and the second to “repair to the +mill.” From this last counsel neither can extract any +meaning; but it is explained on their road home, for when they came +to the bridge of that name they meet a number of mules, and one of +these animals being restive its master forced it on with a stick. +The advice of Solomon, being now understood, is followed, with +complete success.</p> +<p>Among the innumerable tales current in Muhammedan countries +regarding the extraordinary sagacity of Solomon is the following, +which occurs in M. René Basset’s <i>Contes Populaires +Berbèrs</i> (Paris, 1887): Complaint was made to Solomon +that some one had stolen a quantity of eggs. “I shall +discover him,” said Solomon. And when the people were +assembled in the mosque (<em>sic</em>), he said: “An +egg-thief has come in with you, and he has got feathers on his +head.” The thief in great fright raised his hand to his head, +which Solomon perceiving, he cried out: “There is the +culprit—seize him!” There are many variants of this +story in Persian and Indian collections, where a +kází, or judge, takes the place of Solomon, and it +had found its way into our own jest-books early in the 16th +century. Thus in <i>Tales and Quicke Answeres</i>, a man has a +goose stolen from him and complains to the priest, who promises to +find out the thief. On Sunday the priest tells the congregation to +sit down, which they do accordingly. Then says he, “Why are +ye not all seated?” Say they, “We <em>are</em> all +seated.” “Nay,” quoth Mass John, “but he +that stole the goose sitteth not down.” “But I +<em>am</em> seated,” says the witless goose-thief. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_75">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_76" name="fn_76"></a>Among the Muhammedan legends +concerning Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, it is related that, +after he had satisfactorily answered all her questions and solved +her riddles, “before he would enter into more intimate +relations with her, he desired to clear up a certain point +respecting her, and to see whether she actually had cloven feet, as +several of his demons would have him to believe; or whether they +had only invented the defect from fear lest he should marry her, +and beget children, who, as descendants of the genii [the mother of +Bilkís is said to have been of that race of beings], would +be even more mighty than himself. He therefore caused her to be +conducted through a hall, whose floor was of crystal, and under +which water tenanted by every variety of fish was flowing. +Bilkís, who had never seen a crystal floor, supposed that +there was water to be passed through, and therefore raised her robe +slightly, when the king discovered to his great joy a beautifully +shaped female foot. When his eye was satisfied, he called to her: +‘Come hither; there is no water here, but only a crystal +floor; and confess thyself to the faith in the one only God.’ +Bilkís approached the throne, which stood at the end of the +hall, and in Solomon’s presence abjured the worship of the +sun. Solomon then married Bilkís, but reinstated her as +Queen of Sába, and spent three days in every month with +her.” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_76">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_77" name="fn_77"></a>According to the Muslim legend, +eight angels appeared before Solomon in a vision, saying that Allah +had sent them to surrender to him power over them and the eight +winds which were at their command. The chief of the angels then +presented him with a jewel bearing the inscription: “To Allah +belong greatness and might.” Solomon had merely to raise this +stone towards the heavens and these angels would appear, to serve +him. Four other angels next appeared, lords of all creatures living +on the earth and in the waters. The angel representing the kingdom +of birds gave him a jewel on which were inscribed the words: +“All created things praise the Lord.” Then came an +angel who gave him a jewel conferring on the possessor power over +earth and sea, having inscribed on it: “Heaven and earth are +servants of Allah.” Lastly, another angel appeared and +presented him with a jewel bearing these words (the formula of the +Muslim Confession of Faith): “There is no God but +<em>the</em> God, and Muhammed is his messenger.” This jewel +gave Solomon power over the spirit-world. Solomon caused these four +jewels to be set in a ring, and the first use to which he applied +its magical power was to subdue the demons and genii.—It is +perhaps hardly necessary to remark here, with reference to the +fundamental doctrine of Islám, said to have been engraved on +the fourth jewel of Solomon’s ring, that according to the +Kurán, David, Solomon, and all the Biblical patriarchs and +prophets were good Muslims, for Muhammed did not profess to +introduce a new religion, but simply to restore the original and +only true faith, which had become corrupt. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_77">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_78" name="fn_78"></a>We are not told here how the +demon came to part with this safeguard of his power. The Muslim +form of the legend, as will be seen presently, is much more +consistent, and corresponds generally with another rabbinical +version, which follows the present one. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_78">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_79" name="fn_79"></a>According to the Muslim version, +Solomon’s temporary degradation was in punishment for his +taking as a concubine the daughter of an idolatrous king whom he +had vanquished in battle, and, through her influence, bowing +himself to “strange gods.” Before going to the bath, +one day, he gave this heathen beauty his signet to take care of, +and in his absence the rebellious genie Sakhr, assuming the form of +Solomon, obtained the ring. The king was driven forth and Sakhr +ruled (or rather, misruled) in his stead; till the wise men of the +palace, suspecting him to be a demon, began to read the Book of the +Law in his presence, whereupon he flew away and cast the signet +into the sea. In the meantime Solomon hired himself to some +fishermen in a distant country, his wages being two fishes each +day. He finds his signet in the maw of one of the fish, and so +forth. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_79">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_80" name="fn_80"></a>Is it possible that this +“story” of the unicorn was borrowed and garbled from +the ancient Hindú legend of the Deluge? “When the +flood rose Manu embarked in the ship, and the fish swam towards +him, and he fastened the ship’s cable to its horn.” But +in the Hindú legend the fish (that is, Brahma in the form of +a great fish) tows the vessel, while in the Talmudic legend the ark +of Noah takes the unicorn in tow. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_80">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_81" name="fn_81"></a>In a manuscript preserved in the +Lambeth Palace Library, of the time of Edward IV, the height of +Moses is said to have been “xiij. fote and viij. ynches and +half”; and the reader may possibly find some amusement in the +“longitude of men folowyng,” from the same veracious +work: “Cryste, vj. fote and iij. ynches. Our Lady, vj. fote +and viij. ynches. Crystoferus, xvij. fote and viij. ynches. King +Alysaunder, iiij. fote and v. ynches. Colbronde, xvij. fote and ij. +ynches and half. Syr Ey., x. fote iij. ynches and half. Seynt +Thomas of Caunterbery, vij. fote, save a ynche. Long Mores, a man +of Yrelonde borne, and servaunt to Kyng Edward the iiijth., vj. +fote and x. ynches and half.”—<em>Reliquæ +Antiquæ</em>, vol i, p. 200. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_81">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_82" name="fn_82"></a><i>The Friend</i>, ed. 1850, vol. +ii, p. 247. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_82">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_83" name="fn_83"></a>Book of Job, i, 21. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_83">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_84" name="fn_84"></a>Prov. xxxi, 10, 26. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_84">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_85" name="fn_85"></a>The droll incident of dividing +the capon, besides being found in Sacchetti, forms part of a +popular story current in Sicily, and is thus related in Professor +Crane’s <i>Italian Popular Tales</i>, p. 311 ff., taken from +Prof. Comparetti’s <i>Fiabe, Novelle, e Racconti</i> +(Palermo, 1875), No. 43, “La Ragazza astuta”: Once upon +a time there was a huntsman who had a wife and two children, a son +and a daughter; and all lived together in a wood where no one ever +came, and so they knew nothing about the world. The father alone +sometimes went to the city, and brought back the news. The +king’s son once went hunting, and lost himself in that wood, +and while he was seeking his way it became night. He was weary and +hungry. Imagine how he felt. But all at once he saw a light shining +in the distance. He followed it and reached the huntsman’s +house, and asked for lodging and something to eat. The huntsman +recognised him at once and said: “Highness, we have already +supped on our best; but if we can find anything for you, you must +be satisfied with it. What can we do? We are so far from the towns +that we cannot procure what we need every day.” Meanwhile he +had a capon cooked for him. The prince did not wish to eat it +alone, so he called all the huntsman’s family, and gave the +head of the capon to the father, the back to the mother, the legs +to the son, and the wings to the daughter, and ate the rest +himself. In the house there were only two beds, in the same room. +In one the husband and wife slept, in the other the brother and +sister. The old people went and slept in the stable, giving up +their bed to the prince. When the girl saw that the prince was +asleep, she said to her brother: “I will wager that you do +not know why the prince divided the capon among us in the manner he +did.” “Do you know? Tell me why.” “He gave +the head to our father, because he is the head of the family; the +back to our mother, because she has on her shoulders all the +affairs of the house; the legs to you, because you must be quick in +performing the errands which are given you; and the wings to me, to +fly away and catch a husband.” The prince pretended to be +asleep, but he was awake and heard these words, and perceived that +the girl had much judgment, and as she was also pretty, he fell in +love with her [and ultimately married this clever girl]. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_85">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_86" name="fn_86"></a>This story seems to be the +original of a French popular tale, in which a gentleman secures his +estate for his son by a similar device. The gentleman, dying at +Paris while his son was on his travels, bequeathed all his wealth +to a convent, on condition that they should give his son +“whatever they chose.” On the son’s return he +received from the holy fathers a very trifling portion of the +paternal estate. He complained to his friends of this injustice, +but they all agreed that there was no help for it, according to the +terms of his father’s will. In his distress he laid his case +before an eminent lawyer, who told him that his father had adopted +this plan of leaving his estate in the hands of the churchmen in +order to prevent its misappropriation during his absence. +“For,” said the man of law, “your father, by +will, has left you the share of his estate which the convent should +choose (<em>le partie qui leur plairoit</em>), and it is plain that +what they chose was that which they kept for themselves. All you +have to do, therefore, is to enter an action at law against the +convent for recovery of that portion of your father’s +property which they have retained, and, take my word for it, you +will be successful.” The young man accordingly sued the +churchmen and gained his cause. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_86">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_87" name="fn_87"></a>But the Book of Judges was +probably edited after the time of Hesiod, whose fable of the Hawk +and the Nightingale (<i>Works and Days</i>, B. i, v. 260) must be +considered as the oldest extant fable. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_87">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_88" name="fn_88"></a>This theory, though perhaps +somewhat ingenious, is generally considered as utterly untenable. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_88">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_89" name="fn_89"></a>Ezekiel, xviii, 2. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_89">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_90" name="fn_90"></a>This wide-spread fable is found +in the <i>Disciplina Clericalis</i> (No. 21) and in the collection +of Marie de France, of the 13th century; and it is one of the many +spurious Esopic fables. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_90">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_91" name="fn_91"></a>This is similar to the 10th +parable in the spiritual romance of Barlaam and Joasaph, written in +Greek, probably in the first half of the 7th century, and ascribed +to a monk called John of Damascus. Most of the matter comprised in +this interesting work (which has not been translated into English) +was taken from well-known Buddhist sources, and M. Zotenberg and +other eminent scholars are of the opinion that it was first +composed, probably in Egypt, before the promulgation of +Islám. The 10th parable is to this effect: The citizens of a +certain great city had an ancient custom, to take a stranger and +obscure man, who knew nothing of the city’s laws and +traditions, and to make him king with absolute power for a +year’s space; then to rise against him all unawares, while +he, all thoughtless, was revelling and squandering and deeming the +kingdom his for ever; and stripping off his royal robes, lead him +naked in procession through the city, and banish him to a +long-uninhabited and great island, where, worn down for want of +food and raiment, he bewailed this unexpected change. Now, +according to this custom, a man was chosen whose mind was furnished +with much understanding, who was not led away by sudden prosperity, +and was thoughtful and earnest in soul as to how he should best +order his affairs. By close questioning, he learned from a wise +counsellor the citizens’ custom, and the place of exile, and +was instructed how he might secure himself. When he knew this, and +that he must soon go to the island and leave his acquired and alien +kingdom to others, he opened the treasures of which he had for the +time free and unrestricted use, and took an abundant quantity of +gold and silver and precious stones, and giving them to some trusty +servants sent them before him to the island. At the appointed +year’s end the citizens rose and sent him naked into exile, +like those before him. But the other foolish and flitting kings had +perished miserably of hunger, while he who had laid up that +treasure beforehand lived in lusty abundance and delight, fearless +of the turbulent citizens, and felicitating himself on his wise +forethought. Think, then, the city this vain and deceitful world, +the citizens the principalities and powers of the demons, who lure +us with the bait of pleasure, and make us believe enjoyment will +last for ever, till the sudden peril of death is upon +us.—This parable (which seems to be of purely Hebrew origin) +is also found in the old Spanish story-book <i>El Conde +Lucanor</i>. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_91">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_92" name="fn_92"></a>This is the 9th parable in the +romance of Barlaam and Joasaph, where it is told without any +variation. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_92">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_93" name="fn_93"></a>Psalm cxix, 92.—By the way, +it is probably known to most readers that the twenty-two sections +into which this grand poem is divided are named after the letters +of the Hebrew alphabet; but from the translation given in our +English Bible no one could infer that in the original every one of +the eight verses in each section begins with the letter after which +it is named, thus forming a very long acrostic. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_93">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_94" name="fn_94"></a>After Abraham had walked to and +fro unscathed amidst the fierce flames for three days, the faggots +were suddenly transformed into a blooming garden of roses and +fruit-trees and odoriferous plants.—This legend is introduced +into the Kurán, and Muslim writers, when they expatiate on +the almighty power of Allah, seldom omit to make reference to +Nimrod’s flaming furnace being turned into a bed of roses. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_94">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_95" name="fn_95"></a>Eccles., i, 2. The word Vanity +(remarks Hurwitz, the translator) occurs twice in the plural, which +the Rabbi considered as equivalent to four, and three times in the +singular, making altogether <em>seven</em>. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_95">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_96" name="fn_96"></a>“Do not,” says +Nakhshabí, “try to move by persuasion the soul that is +afflicted with grief. The heart that is overwhelmed with the +billows of sorrow will, by slow degrees, return to itself.” +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_96">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_97" name="fn_97"></a>“He who subdueth his temper +is a mighty man,” says the Talmudist; and Solomon had said so +before him: “He that is slow to anger is better than the +mighty, and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a +city” (Prov. xvi, 32). A curious parallel to these words is +found in an ancient Buddhistic work, entitled <i>Buddha’s +Dhammapada</i>, or Path of Virtue, as follows: “If one man +conquer in battle a thousand times a thousand men, and if another +conquer himself, he is the greatest of conquerors.” +(Professor Max Müller’s translation, prefixed to +<i>Buddhagosha’s Parables</i>, translated by Captain Rogers.) +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_97">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_98" name="fn_98"></a>Cf. Saádí, +<i>ante</i>, page <a href="#page41">41</a>, “Life is +snow,” etc. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_98">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_99" name="fn_99"></a>Locke was anticipated not only by +the Talmudist, as above, but long before him by Aristotle, who +termed the infant soul <em>tabula rasa</em>, which was in all +likelihood borrowed by the author of the Persian work on the +practical philosophy of the Muhammedans, entitled +<i>Akhlák-i-Jalaly</i>, who says: “The minds of +children are like a clear tablet, equally open to all +inscriptions.” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_99">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_100" name="fn_100"></a>Too many cooks spoil the +broth.—<i>English Proverb</i>. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_100">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li><a id="fn_101" name="fn_101"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Two farthings and a thimble</p> +<p>In a tailor’s pocket make a jingle.—<em>English +Saying</em>. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_101">Return</a></span></p> +</div> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_102" name="fn_102"></a>“Don’t speak ill of +the bridge that bore you safe over the stream” seems to be +the European equivalent. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_102">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_103" name="fn_103"></a>Python, of Byzantium, was a +very corpulent man. He once said to the citizens, in addressing +them to make friends after a political dispute: “Gentlemen, +you see how stout I am. Well, I have a wife at home who is still +stouter. Now, when we are good friends, we can sit together on a +very small couch; but when we quarrel, I do assure you, the whole +house cannot contain us.”—<i>Athenæus</i>, xii. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_103">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_104" name="fn_104"></a>Compare Burns:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>O wad some power the giftie gie us</p> +<p>To see oursels as ithers see us! <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_104">Return</a></span></p> +</div> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_105" name="fn_105"></a>See the Persian aphorisms on +revealing secrets, <i>ante</i>, p. <a href= +"#page48">48</a>.—Burns, in his “Epistle to a Young +Friend,” says:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>Aye free aff hand your story tell</p> +<p class="i2">When wi’ a bosom crony,</p> +<p>But still keep something to yoursel’</p> +<p class="i2">Ye scarcely tell to ony. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_105">Return</a></span></p> +</div> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_106" name="fn_106"></a>The very reverse of our English +proverb, “Better to be the head of the commonalty than the +tail of the gentry.” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_106">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_107" name="fn_107"></a>Saádí has the +same sentiment in his <i>Gulistán</i>—see <i>ante</i>, +p. <a href="#page49">49</a>. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_107">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_108" name="fn_108"></a>See also +Saádí’s aphorisms on precept and practice, +<i>ante</i>, p. <a href="#page47">47</a>. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_108">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_109" name="fn_109"></a>Here we have a variant of +Thomas Carlyle’s favourite maxim, “Speech is silvern; +silence is golden.” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_109">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_110" name="fn_110"></a>“Nothing is so good for +an ignorant man as silence; and if he were sensible of this he +would not be ignorant.”—<i>Saádí</i>. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_110">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_111" name="fn_111"></a><i>The Friend</i>, ed. 1850, +vol. ii, p. 249. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_111">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_112" name="fn_112"></a>The number Forty occurs very +frequently in the Bible (especially the Old Testament) in +connection with important events, and also in Asiatic tales. It is, +in fact, regarded with peculiar veneration alike by Jews and +Muhammedans. See notes to my <i>Group of Eastern Romances and +Stories</i> (1889), pp. 140 and 456. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_112">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_113" name="fn_113"></a>The “fruit of the +forbidden tree” was not an apple, as we Westerns fondly +believe, but <em>wheat</em>, say the Muslim doctors. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_113">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_114" name="fn_114"></a><i>Fables de La Fontaine</i>, +Livre xi<sup>e</sup>, fable v<sup>e</sup>: “Le Loup et le +Renard.” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_114">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_115" name="fn_115"></a><i>Recueil de Contes Populaires +de la Sénégambie</i>, recueillis par +L.-J.-B.-Bérenger-Féraud. Paris, 1885. Page 51. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_115">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_116" name="fn_116"></a>I have to thank my friend Dr. +David Ross, Principal, E. C. Training College, Glasgow, for kindly +drawing my attention to this diverting tale. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_116">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_117" name="fn_117"></a>Nothing is more hackneyed in +Asiatic poetry than the comparison of a pretty girl’s face to +the moon, and not seldom to the disparagement of that luminary. +Solomon, in his love-songs, exclaims: “Who is she that +looketh forth in the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the +sun?” The greatest of Persian poets, Firdausí, says of +a damsel:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>“Love ye the moon? Behold her face,</p> +<p>And there the lucid planet trace.”</p> +</div> +<p>And Kalidása, the Shakspeare of India (6th century +<span class="small">B.C.</span>), says:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>“Her countenance is brighter than the moon.”</p> +</div> +<p>Amongst ourselves the epithet “moon-faced” is not +usually regarded as complimentary, yet Spenser speaks of a +beautiful damsel’s “moon-like forehead.”—Be +sure, the poets are right! <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_117">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_118" name="fn_118"></a>The lithe figure of a pretty +girl is often likened by Eastern poets to the waving cypress, a +tree which we associate with the grave-yard.—“Who is +walking there?” asks a Persian poet. “Thou, or a tall +cypress?” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_118">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_119" name="fn_119"></a>“Nocturnal.” +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_119">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_120" name="fn_120"></a>The sacred well in the +Kaába at Mecca, which, according to Muslim legends, +miraculously sprang up when Hagar and her son Ishmael were +perishing in the desert from thirst. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_120">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_121" name="fn_121"></a>According to Muslim law, four +months and ten days must elapse before a widow can marry again. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_121">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_122" name="fn_122"></a>An attendant, who had always +befriended Majnún. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_122">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_123" name="fn_123"></a>“The moon,” to wit, +the unhappy Laylá. See the <a href="#fn_117">note</a>, p. +<a href="#page284">284</a>. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_123">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_124" name="fn_124"></a>See <a href= +"#Arabian_N_1">Note</a> on ‘Wamik and Asra’ at the end +of this paper. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_124">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_125" name="fn_125"></a>A mole on the fair face of +Beauty is not regarded as a blemish, but the very contrary, by +Asiatics—or by Europeans either, else why did the ladies of +the last century patch their faces, if not (originally) to set off +the clearness of their complexion by contrast with the little black +wafer?—though (afterwards) often to hide a pimple! Eastern +poets are for ever raving over the mole on a pretty face. +Háfíz goes the length of declaring:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>“For the mole on the cheek of that girl of +Shíráz</p> +<p>I would give away Samarkand and +Bukhárá”—</p> +</div> +<p>albeit they were none of his to give to anybody. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_125">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_126" name="fn_126"></a>Cf. Shelley, in the fine +opening of that wonderful poetical offspring of his adolescence, +<i>Queen Mab</i>:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p class="i2">“Hath, then, the gloomy Power</p> +<p>Whose reign is in the tainted sepulchres</p> +<p class="i2">Seized on her sinless soul?” <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_126">Return</a></span></p> +</div> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_127" name="fn_127"></a>The reader may with advantage +consult the article ‘Beast-Fable,’ by Mr. Thos. +Davidson, in <i>Chambers’s Encylopædia</i>, new +edition. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_127">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_128" name="fn_128"></a>But this papyrus might be of as +late a period as the second century of our era. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_128">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_129" name="fn_129"></a>For the most complete history +of the Esopic Fable, see vol. i of Mr. Joseph Jacobs’ edition +of <i>The Fables of Aesop, as first printed by Caxton in 1484, with +those of Avian, Alfonso, and Poggio</i>, recently published by Mr. +David Nutt; where a vast amount of erudite information will be +found on the subject in all its ramifications. Mr. Jacobs, indeed, +seems to have left little for future gleaners: he has done his work +in a thorough, Benfey-like manner, and students of comparative +folk-lore are under great obligations to him for the indefatigable +industry he has devoted to the valuable outcome of his +wide-reaching learning. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_129">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_130" name="fn_130"></a><i>Fabulae Romanenses Graece +conscriptae ex recensione et cum adnotationibus</i>, Alfredi +Eberhard (Leipzig, 1872), vol. i, p. 226 ff. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_130">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_131" name="fn_131"></a>It would have been well had the +sultan Bayazíd compelled his soldier to adopt this plan when +accused by an old woman of having drunk up all her supply of +goat’s milk. The soldier declared his innocence, upon which +Bayazíd ordered his stomach to be cut open, and finding the +milk not yet digested, quoth he to the woman: “Thou didst not +complain without reason.” And, having caused her to be +recompensed for her loss, “Now go thy way,” he added, +“for thou hast had justice for the wrong done thee.” +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_131">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_132" name="fn_132"></a>This story is also found in the +<i>Liber de Donis</i> of Etienne de Bourbon (No. 246), a Dominican +monk of the 14th century; in the <i>Summa Praedicantium</i> of John +Bromyard, and several other medieval monkish collections of +<i>exempla</i>, or stories designed for the use of preachers: in +these the explanation is that nothing can be better and nothing +worse than <em>tongue</em>. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_132">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_133" name="fn_133"></a>This occurs in the several +Asiatic versions of the Book of Sindibád (Story of the +Sandalwood Merchant); in the <i>Gesta Romanorum</i>; in the old +English metrical <i>Tale of Beryn</i>; in one of the Italian +<i>Novelle</i> of Sacchetti; and in the exploits of Tyl +Eulenspiegel, the German Rogue. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_133">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_134" name="fn_134"></a>Taken from Petronius Arbiter. +The story is widely spread. It is found in the <i>Seven Wise +Masters</i>, and—<em>mutatis mutandis</em>—is well +known to the Chinese. Planudes takes some liberties with his +original, substituting for the soldier guarding the suspended +corpse of a criminal, who “comforts” the sorrowing +widow, a herdsman with his beasts, which he loses in prosecuting +his amour. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_134">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_135" name="fn_135"></a>Mr. Jacobs was obliged to omit +the Life of Esop in his reprint of Caxton’s text of the +Fables, as it would have unduly increased the bulk of his second +volume. But those interested in the genealogy of popular tales and +fables will be glad to have Mr. Jacobs’ all but exhaustive +account of the so-called Esopic fables, together with his excellent +synopsis of parallels, in preference to the monkish collection of +spurious anecdotes of the fabulist, of which the most noteworthy +are given in the present paper. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_135">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_136" name="fn_136"></a>Robert Henryson was a +schoolmaster in Dunfermline in the latter part of the 15th century. +His <i>Moral Fables</i>, edited by Dr. David Irving, were printed +for the Maitland Club in 1832, and his complete works (Poems and +Fables) were edited by Dr. David Laing, and published in 1865. His +<i>Testament of Cresseid</i>, usually considered as his best +performance, is a continuation of Chaucer’s <i>Troilus and +Cresseide</i>, which was derived from the Latin of an unknown +author named Lollius. Henryson was the author of the first pastoral +poem composed in the English (or Scottish) language—that of +<i>Robin and Makyn</i>. “To his power of poetical +conception,” Dr. Laing justly remarks, “he unites no +inconsiderable skill in versification: his lines, if divested of +their uncouth orthography, might be mistaken for those of a more +modern poet.” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_136">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_137" name="fn_137"></a><em>Schaw</em>, a wood, a +covert. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_137">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_138" name="fn_138"></a><em>Chymeris</em>, a short, +light gown. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_138">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_139" name="fn_139"></a><em>Hude</em>, hood. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_139">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_140" name="fn_140"></a><em>Bordourit</em>, +embroidered. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_140">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_141" name="fn_141"></a><em>Hekellit-wise</em>, like +the feathers in the neck of a cock. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_141">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_142" name="fn_142"></a><em>Fassoun</em>, fashion. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_142">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_143" name="fn_143"></a><em>Lokker</em>, (?) gray. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_143">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_144" name="fn_144"></a><em>Stikkand</em>, sticking. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_144">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_145" name="fn_145"></a><em>Pennair</em>, pen-case. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_145">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_146" name="fn_146"></a><em>Graithit</em>, apparelled, +arrayed. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_146">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_147" name="fn_147"></a><em>Feirfull</em>, +awe-inspiring, dignified. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_147">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_148" name="fn_148"></a>This is a work distinct from +Henri Etienne’s <i>Apologia pour Herodote</i>. An English +translation of it was published at London in 1807, and at Edinburgh +in 1808, under the title of “<i>A World of Wonders</i>; or, +an Introduction to a Treatise touching the Conformitie of Ancient +and Modern Wonders; or, a Preparative Treatise to the Apology for +Herodotus,” etc. For this book (the +“Introduction”) Etienne had to quit France, fearing the +wrath of the clerics. His <i>Apologie pour Herodote</i> has not +been rendered into English—and why not, it would be hard to +say. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_148">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_149" name="fn_149"></a>One of the Charlemagne +Romances, translated by Caxton from the French, and printed by him +about the year 1489, under the title of <i>The Right Pleasaunt and +Goodly Historie of the Four Sonnes of Aymon</i>. It has been +reprinted for the Early English Text Society, ably edited by Miss +Octavia Richardson. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_149">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_150" name="fn_150"></a>A slightly different version is +found in <i>A Hundred Mery Talys</i>, No. lxix, “Of the +franklyns sonne that cam to take orders.” The bishop says +that Noah had three sons, Shem, Ham, and Japheth;—who was the +father of Japheth? When the “scholar” returns home and +tells his father how he had been puzzled by the bishop, he +endeavours to enlighten his son thus: “Here is Colle, my dog, +that hath three whelps; must not these three whelps have Colle for +their sire?” Going back to the bishop, he informs his +lordship that the father of Japheth was “Colle, my +father’s dogge.” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_150">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_151" name="fn_151"></a>There were no pews in the +churches in those “good old times.” <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_151">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_152" name="fn_152"></a><em>Apropos</em> of +saint-worship, quaint old Thomas Fuller relates a droll story in +his <i>Church History</i>, ed. 1655, p. 278: A countryman who had +lived many years in the Hercinian woods, in Germany, at last came +into a populous city, demanding of the people therein, what God +they did worship. They answered him, that they worshipped Jesus +Christ. Whereupon the wild wood-man asked the names of the several +churches in the city, which were all called by sundry saints, to +whom they were consecrated. “It is strange,” said he, +“that you should worship Jesus Christ, and he not have a +temple in all the city dedicated to him.” <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_152">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_153" name="fn_153"></a>“Jesus, therefore, +knowing all things that should come upon him, went forth, and said +unto them, ‘Whom seek ye?’ They answered him, +‘Jesus of Nazareth.’”—<em>Gospel of S. +John</em>, xviii, 4, 5. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_153">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_154" name="fn_154"></a><em>Festueum</em>, the split +straw so used in the Middle Ages. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_154">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_155" name="fn_155"></a>See Méon’s edition +of Barbazan’s <i>Fabliaux et Contes</i>, ed. 1808, tome ii, +p. 442, and a prose <em>extrait</em> in Le Grand +d’Aussy’s collection, ed. 1781, tome iv, p. 101, +“Du Prêtre qui dit la Passion.” <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_155">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_156" name="fn_156"></a>See Méon’s +Barbazan, 1808, tome iv, p. 114; also Le Grand, 1781, tome ii, p. +190: “Du Vilain qui gagna Paradis en plaidant.” +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_156">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_157" name="fn_157"></a><i>Scarronides; or, Virgil +Travestie</i>, etc., by Charles Cotton, Book iv. <i>Poetical +Works</i>, 5th edition, London, 1765, pp. 122, 140. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_157">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_158" name="fn_158"></a>The notion that a beard +indicated wisdom on the part of the wearer is often referred to in +early European literature. For example, in Lib. v of Caxton’s +Esop, the Fox, to induce the sick King Lion to kill the Wolf, says +he has travelled far and wide, seeking a good medicine for his +Majesty, and “certaynly I have found no better counceylle +than the counceylle of an auncyent Greke, with a grete and long +berd, a man of grete wysdom, sage, and worthy to be praysed.” +And when the Fox, in another fable, leaves the too-credulous Goat +in the well, Reynard adds insult to injury by saying to him, +“O maystre goote, yf thow haddest be [<i>i.e.</i> been] wel +wyse, with thy fayre berde,” and so forth. (Pp. 153 and 196 +of Mr. Jacobs’ new edition.)—A story is told of a +close-shaven French ambassador to the court of some Eastern +potentate, that on presenting his credentials his Majesty made +sneering remarks on his smooth face (doubtless he was himself +“bearded to the eyes”), to which the envoy boldly +replied: “Sire, had my master supposed that you esteem a +beard so highly, instead of me, he would have sent your Majesty a +goat as his ambassador.” <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_158">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_159" name="fn_159"></a>Harleian MS. No. 7334, lines +2412-2418. Printed for the Early English Text Society. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_159">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_160" name="fn_160"></a>In a scarce old poem, entitled, +<i>The Pilgrymage and the Wayes of Jerusalem</i>, we read:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<p>The thyrd Seyte beyn prestis of oure lawe,</p> +<p>That synge masse at the Sepulcore;</p> +<p>At the same grave there oure lorde laye,</p> +<p>They synge the leteny every daye.</p> +<p>In oure manner is her [<i>i.e.</i> their] songe,</p> +<p>Saffe, here [<i>i.e.</i> their] <em>berdys be ryght +longe</em>,</p> +<p>That is the geyse of that contre,</p> +<p><em>The lenger the berde the bettyr is he</em>;</p> +<p>The order of hem [<i>i.e.</i> them] be barfote freeres. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_160">Return</a></span></p> +</div> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_161" name="fn_161"></a>Reprint for the Shakspere +Society, 1877, B. ii, ch. vii, p. 169. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_161">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_162" name="fn_162"></a>Reprint for the (old) +Shakspeare Society, 1846, p. 217. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_162">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_163" name="fn_163"></a>Formed by the moustache and a +chin-tuft, as worn by Louis Napoleon and his imperialist +supporters. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_163">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_164" name="fn_164"></a><i>Works of John Taylor, the +Water Poet, comprised in the Folio edition of 1630</i>. Printed for +the Spenser Society, 1869. “<i>Superbiae Flagellum</i>, or +the Whip of Pride,” p. 34. <span class="returnFN"><a href= +"#fnm_164">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_165" name="fn_165"></a>Reprint for the Shakspere +Society, Part ii (1882), pp. 50, 51. <span class= +"returnFN"><a href="#fnm_165">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +<li> +<p><a id="fn_166" name="fn_166"></a><i>The Treatise answerynge the +boke of Berdes, Compyled by Collyn Clowte, dedicated to Barnarde, +Barber, dwellyng in Banbury</i>: “Here foloweth a treatyse +made, Answerynge the treatyse of doctor Borde upon +Berdes.”—Appended to reprint of Andrew Borde’s +<i>Introduction of Knowledge</i>, edited by Dr. F. J. Furnivall, +for the Early English Text Society, 1870—see pp. 314, 315. +<span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm_166">Return</a></span></p> +</li> +</ol> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2 class="spacedTop"><a id="Index" name="Index"></a>INDEX.</h2> +<p class="transcribersNote"><i>Transcriber's Note:</i> Index items +in [brackets] indicate a reference to a footnote and not a page +number.</p> +<div class="indexKey"><a href="#indexA">A</a> <a href= +"#indexB">B</a> <a href="#indexC">C</a> <a href="#indexD">D</a> +<a href="#indexE">E</a> <a href="#indexF">F</a> <a href= +"#indexG">G</a> <a href="#indexH">H</a> <a href="#indexI">I</a> +<a href="#indexJ">J</a> <a href="#indexK">K</a> <a href= +"#indexL">L</a> <a href="#indexM">M</a> <a href="#indexN">N</a> +<a href="#indexO">O</a> <a href="#indexP">P</a> <a href= +"#indexQ">Q</a> <a href="#indexR">R</a> <a href="#indexS">S</a> +<a href="#indexT">T</a> <a href="#indexU">U</a> <a href= +"#indexV">V</a> <a href="#indexW">W</a> <a href="#indexY">Y</a> +<a href="#indexZ">Z</a></div> +<div class="index"> +<ul id="indexA"> +<li>Abbas the Great, <a href="#page107">107</a>.</li> +<li>Abraham: jealous of his wives, <a href="#page197">197</a>; +<ul> +<li>arrival in Egypt, <a href="#page197">197</a>;</li> +<li>his servant in Sodom, <a href="#page202">202</a>;</li> +<li>Ishmael’s wives, <a href="#page203">203</a>;</li> +<li>the ‘ram caught in a thicket,’ <a href= +"#page205">205</a>;</li> +<li>the idols, <a href="#page251">251</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Abstinence, advantages of, <a href="#page20">20</a>.</li> +<li>Acrostic in the Bible, <a href="#fn_93">[93]</a>.</li> +<li>Adam and Eve, <a href="#page191">191</a>, <a href= +"#page267">267</a>, <a href="#page268">268</a>.</li> +<li>Addison’s Spectator, <a href="#page359">359</a>.</li> +<li>Advice to a conceited man, <a href="#page44">44</a>; +<ul> +<li>gratuitous, <a href="#page261">261</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Aesop—<em>see</em> <a href="#EsopIndex">Esop</a>.</li> +<li>Affenschwanz, etc., <a href="#fn_59">[59]</a>.</li> +<li>Aino Folk-Tales, <a href="#page312">312</a>.</li> +<li>Akhlák-i Jalaly, <a href="#page23">23</a>, <a href= +"#fn_99">[99]</a>.</li> +<li>Aladdin’s Lamp, <a href="#fn_49">[49]</a>.</li> +<li>Alakésa Kathá, <a href="#fn_52">[52]</a>.</li> +<li>Alexander the Great, <a href="#page253">253</a>, <a href= +"#page254">254</a>.</li> +<li>Alfonsus, Petrus, <a href="#page99">99</a>, <a href= +"#fn_36">[36]</a>, <a href="#page227">227</a>, <a href= +"#page231">231</a>, <a href="#fn_90">[90]</a>.</li> +<li>Alfred the Great, <a href="#page315">315</a>.</li> +<li>Ali, Mrs. Meer Hassan, <a href="#page270">270</a>.</li> +<li>Ambition, vanity of, <a href="#page254">254</a>.</li> +<li>Amír Khusrú, <a href="#page18">18</a>.</li> +<li>Ancestry, pride of, <a href="#page22">22</a>.</li> +<li>Androgynous nature of Adam, <a href="#page191">191</a>, +<a href="#fn_58">[58]</a>.</li> +<li>Ant and Nightingale, <a href="#page41">41</a>.</li> +<li>Antar, the Arabian poet-hero, <a href="#page46">46</a>.</li> +<li>Anthologia, <a href="#page259">259</a>.</li> +<li>Anwarí, the Persian poet, <a href= +"#page106">106</a>.</li> +<li>Aphorisms of Saádí, <a href="#page7">7</a>, +<a href="#page41">41</a>, <a href="#page44">44</a>, <a href= +"#fn_42">[42]</a>; +<ul> +<li>of the Jewish Fathers, <a href="#page260">260</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Apparition, the golden, <a href="#page136">136</a>.</li> +<li>Arab and his camel, <a href="#page82">82</a>.</li> +<li>Arab Sháh, <a href="#page87">87</a>.</li> +<li>Arabian lovers, <a href="#page283">283</a>, <a href= +"#page294">294</a>.</li> +<li>Arabian Nights, <a href="#fn_33">[33]</a>, <a href= +"#page123">123</a>, <a href="#page178">178</a>, <a href= +"#page196">196</a>, <a href="#page212">212</a>.</li> +<li>Archery feat, <a href="#page20">20</a>.</li> +<li>Arienti, <a href="#fn_66">[66]</a>.</li> +<li>Ashaab the covetous, <a href="#page93">93</a>.</li> +<li>Ass, the singing, <a href="#page149">149</a>.</li> +<li>Astrologer’s faithless wife, <a href= +"#page36">36</a>.</li> +<li>Attár, Farídu ’d-Dín, <a href= +"#page51">51</a>.</li> +<li>Athenæus, <a href="#fn_103">[103]</a>.</li> +<li>Athenians and Jewish boys, <a href="#page117">117</a>, <a href= +"#page118">118</a>.</li> +<li>Auvaiyár, Tamil poetess, <a href="#fn_7">[7]</a>, +<a href="#fn_8">[8]</a>, <a href="#fn_9">[9]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_16">[16]</a>.</li> +<li>Avarice, <a href="#page44">44</a>.</li> +<li>Avianus, <a href="#fn_15">[15]</a>.</li> +<li>Aymon, Four Sons of, <a href="#page317">317</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexB"> +<li>Babrius, <a href="#page300">300</a>.</li> +<li>Babylonian tale, <a href="#fn_71">[71]</a>.</li> +<li>Bacon on aphorisms, <a href="#page259">259</a>.</li> +<li>Baghdádí, witty, <a href="#page83">83</a>.</li> +<li>Baháristán, <a href="#fn_19">[19]</a>, <a href= +"#page48">48</a>, <a href="#page63">63</a>, <a href= +"#page109">109</a>.</li> +<li>Bakhtyár Náma, <a href="#page124">124</a>, +<a href="#page172">172</a>.</li> +<li>Barbary Tales, <a href="#fn_75">[75]</a>.</li> +<li>Barbazan’s Fabliaux, <a href="#fn_155">[155]</a>, +<a href="#fn_156">[156]</a>.</li> +<li>Baring-Gould, <a href="#page142">142</a>, <a href= +"#fn_58">[58]</a>, <a href="#fn_61">[61]</a>.</li> +<li>Barlaam and Joasaph, <a href="#fn_91">[91]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_92">[92]</a>.</li> +<li>Basset’s Tales of Barbary, <a href= +"#fn_75">[75]</a>.</li> +<li>Basket made into a door, <a href="#page318">318</a>.</li> +<li>Bayazíd and the old woman, <a href= +"#fn_131">[131]</a>.</li> +<li>Beal, Samuel, <a href="#page147">147</a>.</li> +<li>Beards: Asiatics’, <a href="#page338">338</a>; +<ul> +<li>Ballad of the Beard, <a href="#page355">355</a>;</li> +<li>Barnes in defence of the Beard, <a href= +"#page356">356</a>;</li> +<li>Britons’ and Normans’, <a href= +"#page344">344</a>;</li> +<li>Coverley (Sir Roger de), on his ancestors’, <a href= +"#page359">359</a>;</li> +<li>dedicated to deities, <a href="#page339">339</a>;</li> +<li>dyeing the beard, <a href="#page349">349</a>;</li> +<li>famous beards, <a href="#page344">344</a>, <a href= +"#page346">346</a>;</li> +<li>French kings’, <a href="#page346">346</a>;</li> +<li>Greeks’, <a href="#page338">338</a>;</li> +<li>Monks’, <a href="#page343">343</a>;</li> +<li>Pope Julius II, <a href="#page341">341</a>;</li> +<li>pledged for loans, <a href="#page342">342</a>;</li> +<li>pulling beard, <a href="#page343">343</a>;</li> +<li>reformers’, <a href="#page344">344</a>;</li> +<li>Roman youths’, <a href="#page337">337</a>;</li> +<li>Sully’s beard, <a href="#page341">341</a>;</li> +<li>shapes of, <a href="#page350">350</a>, <a href= +"#page351">351</a>, <a href="#page352">352</a>, <a href= +"#page355">355</a>;</li> +<li>taxes on, <a href="#page345">345</a>;</li> +<li>tokens of wisdom, <a href="#page338">338</a>, <a href= +"#fn_158">[158]</a>;</li> +<li>Turkish sultans’, <a href="#page339">339</a>;</li> +<li>vowing not to cut or shave, <a href="#page342">342</a>, +<a href="#page347">347</a>;</li> +<li>witches’, <a href="#page358">358</a>;</li> +<li>women, bearded, <a href="#page358">358</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Beast-fables, origin of, <a href="#page239">239</a>, <a href= +"#page299">299</a>.</li> +<li>Beaumont, bp. of Durham, <a href="#page318">318</a>.</li> +<li>Beauty unadorned, <a href="#page46">46</a>.</li> +<li>Beggar and Khoja, <a href="#page68">68</a>.</li> +<li>Bendall, Cecil, <a href="#page159">159</a>.</li> +<li>Beneficence, <a href="#page24">24</a>, <a href= +"#page44">44</a>, <a href="#page48">48</a>.</li> +<li>Bérenger-Féraud, <a href="#page278">278</a>.</li> +<li>Berkeley’s ‘ideal’ theory, <a href= +"#page97">97</a>.</li> +<li>Beryn, Tale of, <a href="#page212">212</a>, <a href= +"#fn_133">[133]</a>.</li> +<li>Bhartrihari, <a href="#page258">258</a>.</li> +<li>Bible, <a href="#page191">191</a>, <a href="#page193">193</a>, +<a href="#page205">205</a>, <a href="#page207">207</a>, <a href= +"#page229">229</a>, <a href="#page231">231</a>, <a href= +"#page239">239</a>, <a href="#page240">240</a>, <a href= +"#page249">249</a>, <a href="#page251">251</a>, <a href= +"#page254">254</a>, <a href="#page257">257</a>, <a href= +"#fn_97">[97]</a>, <a href="#page270">270</a>, <a href= +"#fn_153">[153]</a>, <a href="#page331">331</a>, <a href= +"#page332">332</a>.</li> +<li>Bidpaï’s Fables, <a href="#page39">39</a>.</li> +<li>Birth, pride of, <a href="#page22">22</a>.</li> +<li>Bishop and ignorant priest, <a href="#page316">316</a>; +<ul> +<li>and the simple youth, <a href="#page317">317</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>‘Bi’smi’llahi,’ etc., <a href= +"#fn_24">[24]</a>.</li> +<li>Bi-sexual nature of Adam, <a href="#page191">191</a>.</li> +<li>Blémont, Emile, <a href="#page274">274</a>.</li> +<li>Blind man’s wife, <a href="#page62">62</a>.</li> +<li>Blockheads, list of, <a href="#page80">80</a>.</li> +<li>Boccaccio’s Decameron, <a href="#fn_31">[31]</a>, +<a href="#fn_75">[75]</a>, <a href="#page231">231</a>.</li> +<li>Bœthius’ Consol. Phil., <a href= +"#fn_45">[45]</a>.</li> +<li>Bonaventure des Periers, <a href="#fn_31">[31]</a>, <a href= +"#page323">323</a>, <a href="#page325">325</a>.</li> +<li>Borde, Andrew, <a href="#page356">356</a>, <a href= +"#fn_166">[166]</a>.</li> +<li>Boy in terror at sea, <a href="#page22">22</a>.</li> +<li>Bride and Bridegroom, <a href="#page250">250</a>.</li> +<li>Bromyard, John, <a href="#fn_132">[132]</a>.</li> +<li>Broth, Hot, <a href="#page69">69</a>.</li> +<li>Buddha, Rom. Hist, of, <a href="#page147">147</a>.</li> +<li>Buddha’s Dhammapada, <a href="#fn_97">[97]</a>.</li> +<li>Buddhaghosha’s Parables, <a href="#page163">163</a>, +<a href="#fn_97">[97]</a>.</li> +<li>Burns, the Scottish poet, <a href="#fn_104">[104]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_105">[105]</a>.</li> +<li>Butler’s Hudibras, etc., <a href="#page332">332</a>, +<a href="#page345">345</a>, <a href="#page346">346</a>.</li> +<li>Burton, Sir R. F., <a href="#fn_11">[11]</a>, <a href= +"#page274">274</a>.</li> +<li>Buthayna and Jamíl, <a href="#page294">294</a>.</li> +<li>Buzurjmihr on silence, <a href="#page38">38</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexC"> +<li>Cabinet des Fées, <a href="#fn_49">[49]</a>.</li> +<li>Cain and Abel, <a href="#page194">194</a>.</li> +<li>Camel and cat, <a href="#page82">82</a>.</li> +<li>Capon-carver, <a href="#page231">231</a>, <a href= +"#page276">276</a>.</li> +<li>Cardonne’s Mél. de Littèrature Orientale, +<a href="#page83">83</a>.</li> +<li>Carlyle, Thos., <a href="#page60">60</a>, <a href= +"#fn_109">[109]</a>.</li> +<li>Cat and its master, <a href="#page80">80</a>.</li> +<li>Cauldron, the, <a href="#page67">67</a>.</li> +<li>Caution with friends, <a href="#page46">46</a>, <a href= +"#page263">263</a>.</li> +<li>Caxton’s Dictes, <a href="#page38">38</a>; +<ul> +<li>Esop’s Fables, <a href="#fn_129">[129]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_135">[135]</a>, <a href="#fn_158">[158]</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Caylus, Comte de, <a href="#fn_49">[49]</a>.</li> +<li>Cento Novelle Antiche, <a href="#page231">231</a>.</li> +<li>Chamberlain, B. H., <a href="#page312">312</a>.</li> +<li>Chaste Wives, Value of, <a href="#page127">127</a>.</li> +<li>Chaucer, <a href="#page196">196</a>, <a href= +"#page279">279</a>, <a href="#page339">339</a>.</li> +<li>Chess, game of, <a href="#page240">240</a>.</li> +<li>Chinese Humour: rich man and smiths, <a href="#page77">77</a>; +<ul> +<li>to keep plants alive, <a href="#page78">78</a>;</li> +<li>criticising a portrait, <a href="#page78">78</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Clergy, Benefit of, <a href="#page329">329</a>.</li> +<li>Clouston’s Analogues of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, +<a href="#page279">279</a>; +<ul> +<li>Book of Noodles, <a href="#fn_26">[26]</a>, <a href= +"#page111">111</a>;</li> +<li>Book of Sindibád, <a href="#page280">280</a>;</li> +<li>Eastern Romances, <a href="#fn_52">[52]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_112">[112]</a>, <a href="#page279">279</a>;</li> +<li>Popular Tales and Fictions, <a href="#fn_49">[49]</a>, <a href= +"#page157">157</a>, <a href="#page178">178</a>, <a href= +"#page279">279</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Coleridge, the poet, <a href="#page229">229</a>, <a href= +"#page264">264</a>.</li> +<li>Comparetti, Prof., <a href="#fn_85">[85]</a>.</li> +<li>Conceited man, <a href="#page44">44</a>.</li> +<li>Conde Lucanor, <a href="#fn_30">[30]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_91">[91]</a>.</li> +<li>Condolence, house of, <a href="#page62">62</a>.</li> +<li>Conjugal quarrels, <a href="#page262">262</a>.</li> +<li>Contes Orientaux, <a href="#fn_49">[49]</a>.</li> +<li>Cooks, too many, <a href="#page262">262</a>.</li> +<li>‘Corpus meum,’ <a href="#page320">320</a>.</li> +<li>Cotton’s Virgil Travestie, <a href= +"#page332">332</a>.</li> +<li>Courtier and old friend, <a href="#page79">79</a>.</li> +<li>Coverley, Sir Roger de, <a href="#page359">359</a>.</li> +<li>Covetous man, <a href="#page93">93</a>; +<ul> +<li>goldsmith, <a href="#page128">128</a>, <a href= +"#page160">160</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Covetousness, <a href="#page45">45</a>.</li> +<li>Crane’s Italian Tales, <a href="#fn_37">[37]</a>, +<a href="#fn_85">[85]</a>, <a href="#page279">279</a>.</li> +<li>Cup-bearer and Saádí, <a href= +"#page28">28</a>.</li> +<li>Cypress, <a href="#page284">284</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexD"> +<li>Dabistán, <a href="#page97">97</a>, <a href= +"#fn_35">[35]</a>.</li> +<li>Daulat Sháh, <a href="#page294">294</a>.</li> +<li>David, legends of King, <a href="#page213">213</a>.</li> +<li>Davidson, Thos., <a href="#fn_127">[127]</a>.</li> +<li>Deaf men, <a href="#page73">73</a>, <a href= +"#page75">75</a>.</li> +<li>Death, rest to the poor, <a href="#page51">51</a>.</li> +<li>Decameron, <a href="#fn_31">[31]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_75">[75]</a>.</li> +<li>Deluge, <a href="#fn_80">[80]</a>.</li> +<li>Demon, Tales of a, <a href="#page124">124</a>, <a href= +"#page162">162</a>, <a href="#page179">179</a>.</li> +<li>Dervish and magic candlestick, <a href="#page141">141</a>.</li> +<li>Dervish who became king, <a href="#page32">32</a>.</li> +<li>Dervishes, Three, <a href="#page113">113</a>.</li> +<li>Desolate Island, <a href="#page243">243</a>, <a href= +"#page279">279</a>.</li> +<li>Des Periers, Bonaventure, <a href="#fn_31">[31]</a>, <a href= +"#page323">323</a>, <a href="#page325">325</a>.</li> +<li>Devotee and learned man, <a href="#page40">40</a>.</li> +<li>Dictes, or the sayings of philosophers, <a href= +"#page38">38</a>.</li> +<li>Disciplina Clericalis, <a href="#page99">99</a>, <a href= +"#page100">100</a>, <a href="#page227">227</a>, <a href= +"#page231">231</a>, <a href="#fn_90">[90]</a>.</li> +<li>Domestics, lazy, <a href="#page76">76</a>.</li> +<li>Don Quixote, <a href="#page11">11</a>, <a href= +"#page99">99</a>.</li> +<li>Dreams of fair women, <a href="#page133">133</a>, <a href= +"#page134">134</a>.</li> +<li>Drinking the sea dry, <a href="#page312">312</a>.</li> +<li>Drunken governor, <a href="#page68">68</a>.</li> +<li>Dublin ballad-singer, <a href="#fn_71">[71]</a>.</li> +<li>Dutiful son, <a href="#page236">236</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexE"> +<li>Eastern story-books, general plan of, <a href= +"#page123">123</a>.</li> +<li>Eberhard’s ed. of Planudes’ Life of Esop, <a href= +"#fn_130">[130]</a>.</li> +<li>Education, advantages of, <a href="#page27">27</a>.</li> +<li>Egg-stealer and Solomon, <a href="#fn_75">[75]</a>.</li> +<li>Eliezer in Sodom, <a href="#page202">202</a>.</li> +<li>Eliot, George, <a href="#fn_17">[17]</a>.</li> +<li>Ellis’ Metrical Romances, <a href="#fn_36">[36]</a>.</li> +<li>Emperor’s dream, <a href="#page134">134</a>.</li> +<li><a id="EsopIndex" name="EsopIndex"></a>Esop: unlucky omens, +<a href="#fn_38">[38]</a>; +<ul> +<li>wise saying of, <a href="#page264">264</a>;</li> +<li>apocryphal Life, by Planudes, <a href="#page301">301</a>;</li> +<li>Jacobs on the Esopic Fable, <a href="#fn_129">[129]</a>;</li> +<li>the figs, <a href="#page302">302</a>;</li> +<li>how Esop became eloquent, <a href="#page303">303</a>;</li> +<li>his choice of load, <a href="#page303">303</a>;</li> +<li>offered for sale, <a href="#page304">304</a>;</li> +<li>boiling peas, <a href="#page304">304</a>;</li> +<li>the missing pig’s foot, <a href="#page305">305</a>;</li> +<li>dish of tongues, <a href="#page305">305</a>;</li> +<li>the man who was no busy-body, <a href="#page306">306</a>;</li> +<li>drinking the sea dry, <a href="#page306">306</a>, <a href= +"#page312">312</a>;</li> +<li>the dog’s tail, <a href="#page306">306</a>;</li> +<li>as ambassador, <a href="#page307">307</a>;</li> +<li>his death, <a href="#page307">307</a>;</li> +<li>Henryson’s description of Esop, <a href= +"#page309">309</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Etienne de Bourbon, <a href="#fn_132">[132]</a>.</li> +<li>Etienne, Henri, <a href="#page316">316</a>.</li> +<li>Eulenspiegel, Tyl, <a href="#fn_133">[133]</a>.</li> +<li>Expectation, <a href="#page7">7</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexF"> +<li>Fabliaux, <a href="#fn_34">[34]</a>, <a href="#fn_37">[37]</a>, +<a href="#page327">327</a>, <a href="#page328">328</a>.</li> +<li>Fables, origin of, <a href="#page239">239</a>, <a href= +"#page300">300</a>.</li> +<li>Facetiæ, Jewish, <a href="#page117">117</a>.</li> +<li>Faggot-maker, <a href="#page152">152</a>.</li> +<li>Fairholt, F. W., <a href="#page355">355</a>.</li> +<li>Fairies’ gifts, <a href="#page153">153</a>, <a href= +"#page157">157</a>, <a href="#page181">181</a>.</li> +<li>Fate, decrees of, <a href="#page99">99</a>.</li> +<li>Faults, <a href="#page7">7</a>, <a href="#page44">44</a>, +<a href="#page262">262</a>.</li> +<li>Féraud, Bérenger, <a href= +"#page278">278</a>.</li> +<li>Firdausí, <a href="#page50">50</a>, <a href= +"#fn_117">[117]</a>.</li> +<li>Fitnet Khánim, Turkish poetess, <a href= +"#page17">17</a>.</li> +<li>Flood, <a href="#page225">225</a>.</li> +<li>Flowers, hymn to the, <a href="#page54">54</a>.</li> +<li>Folk-Lore of S. India, <a href="#page73">73</a>.</li> +<li>Fool, greatest, <a href="#page279">279</a>.</li> +<li>Fools, list of, <a href="#page80">80</a>.</li> +<li>Foolish peasants, <a href="#page111">111</a>; +<ul> +<li>thieves, <a href="#page151">151</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Forbidden tree, <a href="#page268">268</a>.</li> +<li>Forman, bp. of Moray, <a href="#page319">319</a>.</li> +<li>Fortitude and liberality, <a href="#page24">24</a>.</li> +<li>Fortune capricious, <a href="#page45">45</a>.</li> +<li>Forty, the number, <a href="#fn_112">[112]</a>.</li> +<li>Forty Vezírs, History of, <a href="#page65">65</a>, +<a href="#page110">110</a>, <a href="#fn_45">[45]</a>.</li> +<li>Fox and Bear, <a href="#page240">240</a>, <a href= +"#page278">278</a>; +<ul> +<li>Fox in the garden, <a href="#page241">241</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Friends: caution with, <a href="#page46">46</a>, <a href= +"#page263">263</a>; +<ul> +<li>man with three, <a href="#page247">247</a>;</li> +<li>misfortunes of, <a href="#page23">23</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Fryer’s Eng. Fairy Tales, <a href="#fn_39">[39]</a>.</li> +<li>Fuller’s Church History, <a href= +"#fn_152">[152]</a>.</li> +<li>Furnivall, F. J., <a href="#fn_166">[166]</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexG"> +<li>Garments, the, <a href="#page248">248</a>.</li> +<li>Garrick and Dr. Johnson, <a href="#page52">52</a>.</li> +<li>Gemara, authors of the, <a href="#page186">186</a>.</li> +<li>Generosity, <a href="#page24">24</a>, <a href="#page44">44</a>, +<a href="#page48">48</a>.</li> +<li>Gerrans, <a href="#fn_41">[41]</a>, <a href="#page126">126</a>, +<a href="#page136">136</a>.</li> +<li>Gesta Romanorum, <a href="#page187">187</a>, <a href= +"#fn_63">[63]</a>, <a href="#page227">227</a>, <a href= +"#page231">231</a>, <a href="#page279">279</a>, <a href= +"#fn_133">[133]</a>.</li> +<li>Gibb, E. J. W., <a href="#page15">15</a>, <a href= +"#page110">110</a>, <a href="#fn_45">[45]</a>, <a href= +"#page283">283</a>.</li> +<li>Gisli the Outlaw, <a href="#fn_25">[25]</a>.</li> +<li>Gladwin’s Persian Moonshee, <a href= +"#page71">71</a>.</li> +<li>Goat, the dead, <a href="#page71">71</a>.</li> +<li>God, a jealous God, <a href="#page264">264</a>.</li> +<li>God, for the sake of, <a href="#page9">9</a>.</li> +<li>Good or evil genius, <a href="#page140">140</a>, <a href= +"#page141">141</a>.</li> +<li>‘God, the merciful,’ etc., <a href= +"#fn_24">[24]</a>.</li> +<li>Golden apparition, <a href="#page136">136</a>.</li> +<li>Goldsmith, the covetous, <a href="#page128">128</a>, <a href= +"#page160">160</a>.</li> +<li>Goliath’s brother, <a href="#page213">213</a>.</li> +<li>Goose, Tales of a, <a href="#page124">124</a>.</li> +<li>Goose-thief, <a href="#fn_75">[75]</a>.</li> +<li>Gospels, two, for a groat, <a href="#page320">320</a>.</li> +<li>Governor and the Khoja, <a href="#page68">68</a>; +<ul> +<li>and the poor poet, <a href="#page104">104</a>;</li> +<li>and the shopkeeper, <a href="#fn_39">[39]</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Gratitude for benefits, <a href="#page262">262</a>.</li> +<li>Great Name, <a href="#page214">214</a>.</li> +<li>Greek Popular Tales, <a href="#page276">276</a>.</li> +<li>Grey, Zachary, <a href="#page332">332</a>.</li> +<li>Grief and anger, times of, <a href="#page260">260</a>.</li> +<li>Grissell, Patient, <a href="#page331">331</a>.</li> +<li>Gulistán, or rose-garden, <a href="#page9">9</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexH"> +<li>Hafíz, the Persian poet, <a href= +"#fn_125">[125]</a>.</li> +<li>Hagiolatry, <a href="#page321">321</a>, <a href= +"#page327">327</a>.</li> +<li>Hamsa Vinsati, <a href="#page124">124</a>.</li> +<li>Harírí, the Arabian poet, <a href= +"#fn_70">[70]</a>.</li> +<li>Harrison on beards, <a href="#page350">350</a>.</li> +<li>Hartland, E. Sidney, <a href="#page181">181</a>.</li> +<li>Hátim Taï, <a href="#page24">24</a>.</li> +<li>Hazár ú Yek Rúz, <a href= +"#fn_33">[33]</a>.</li> +<li>Hebrew facetiæ, <a href="#page117">117</a>.</li> +<li>Henryson, Robert, <a href="#page309">309</a>.</li> +<li>Heptameron, <a href="#fn_31">[31]</a>.</li> +<li>Herrick’s Hesperides, <a href="#fn_23">[23]</a>.</li> +<li>Herodotus, Apology for, <a href="#page316">316</a>.</li> +<li>Herrtage, S. J., <a href="#fn_63">[63]</a>.</li> +<li>Hershon’s Talmudic Miscel., <a href= +"#page191">191</a>.</li> +<li>Hesiod’s fables, <a href="#fn_87">[87]</a>.</li> +<li>Hitopadesa, <a href="#page140">140</a>, <a href= +"#page240">240</a>.</li> +<li>Horse-dealers and the king, <a href="#page81">81</a>.</li> +<li>Hudibras, etc., <a href="#page332">332</a>, <a href= +"#page345">345</a>, <a href="#page346">346</a>.</li> +<li>Hundred Mery Talys, <a href="#fn_27">[27]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_150">[150]</a>, <a href="#page320">320</a>.</li> +<li>Hurwitz, Hyman, <a href="#page117">117</a>, <a href= +"#fn_56">[56]</a>, <a href="#page218">218</a>, <a href= +"#fn_95">[95]</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexI"> +<li>’Idda: compulsory widowhood, <a href= +"#page287">287</a>.</li> +<li>Ideal, not the real, <a href="#page97">97</a>.</li> +<li>Idleness and industry, <a href="#page41">41</a>, <a href= +"#page261">261</a>.</li> +<li>Ignorance, <a href="#page262">262</a>.</li> +<li>Ill news, breaking, <a href="#page95">95</a>; +<ul> +<li>telling, <a href="#page45">45</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Images, the stolen, <a href="#page128">128</a>.</li> +<li>Indian poetess, <a href="#fn_7">[7]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_8">[8]</a>, <a href="#fn_9">[9]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_16">[16]</a>.</li> +<li>Inferiors and superiors, <a href="#page260">260</a>.</li> +<li>Ingratitude, <a href="#page47">47</a>.</li> +<li>Intolerance, religious, <a href="#page188">188</a>, <a href= +"#page190">190</a>.</li> +<li>Investment, safe, <a href="#page228">228</a>.</li> +<li>Irving, David, <a href="#fn_136">[136]</a>.</li> +<li>Isfahání and the governor, <a href= +"#page116">116</a>.</li> +<li>Ishmael’s wives, <a href="#page203">203</a>.</li> +<li>Island, Desolate, <a href="#page243">243</a>, <a href= +"#page279">279</a>.</li> +<li>Israel likened to a bride, <a href="#page250">250</a>.</li> +<li>Italian Tales, <a href="#fn_37">[37]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_39">[39]</a>, <a href="#fn_66">[66]</a>, <a href= +"#page231">231</a>, <a href="#fn_85">[85]</a>, <a href= +"#page279">279</a>, <a href="#fn_133">[133]</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexJ"> +<li>Jacob’s sorrow, <a href="#page208">208</a>.</li> +<li>Jacobs, Joseph, on the Esopic Fables, <a href= +"#fn_129">[129]</a>, <a href="#fn_135">[135]</a>.</li> +<li>Jámí, <a href="#page40">40</a>, <a href= +"#fn_19">[19]</a>, <a href="#page63">63</a>, <a href= +"#page109">109</a>.</li> +<li>Jamíl and Buthayna, <a href="#page294">294</a>.</li> +<li>‘January and May,’ <a href="#page29">29</a>.</li> +<li>Jehennan, <a href="#page145">145</a>.</li> +<li>Jehoshua, Rabbi, <a href="#page205">205</a>.</li> +<li>Jehudah, Rabbi, <a href="#page186">186</a>.</li> +<li>Jests, antiquity of, <a href="#page60">60</a>.</li> +<li>Jewels, the, <a href="#page229">229</a>; +<ul> +<li>luminous, <a href="#page196">196</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Jewish facetiæ, <a href="#page117">117</a></li> +<li>Jochonan, Rabbi, <a href="#page186">186</a>; +<ul> +<li>and the poor woman, <a href="#page227">227</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Johnson and Garrick, <a href="#page52">52</a>.</li> +<li>Johnson, Dr., on springtide, <a href="#page14">14</a>.</li> +<li>Jones, Sir William, <a href="#fn_5">[5]</a>.</li> +<li>Joseph and Potiphar’s wife, <a href="#page205">205</a>; +<ul> +<li>and his brethren, <a href="#page206">206</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Josephus on Solomon’s fables, <a href= +"#page239">239</a>.</li> +<li>Jotham’s fable, <a href="#page239">239</a>.</li> +<li>Julien, Stanislas, <a href="#page77">77</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexK"> +<li>Kádirí’s Tútí Náma, +<a href="#fn_41">[41]</a>.</li> +<li>Kah-gyur, <a href="#page159">159</a>.</li> +<li>Kalíla wa Dimna, <a href="#page39">39</a>.</li> +<li>Kalidása, <a href="#fn_117">[117]</a>.</li> +<li>Káma Sutra, <a href="#page126">126</a>.</li> +<li>Kámarupa, <a href="#page133">133</a>.</li> +<li>Káshifí, <a href="#fn_11">[11]</a>.</li> +<li>Kashmírí Folk-Tales, <a href="#page111">111</a>, +<a href="#fn_40">[40]</a>.</li> +<li>Kathá Manjarí, <a href="#fn_28">[28]</a>, +<a href="#page100">100</a>, <a href="#page175">175</a>.</li> +<li>Kathá Sarit Ságara, <a href="#page157">157</a>, +<a href="#page163">163</a>, <a href="#page179">179</a>.</li> +<li>Khalíf and poet, <a href="#page101">101</a>, <a href= +"#page105">105</a>.</li> +<li>Khizar and the Water of Life, <a href="#page177">177</a>.</li> +<li>Khoja Nasr-ed-Dín, <a href="#page65">65</a>, <a href= +"#page70">70</a>.</li> +<li>King and his Four Ministers, <a href="#fn_52">[52]</a>; +<ul> +<li>and the horse-dealers, <a href="#page81">81</a>;</li> +<li>and the Seven Vazírs, <a href="#page173">173</a>;</li> +<li>and the story-teller, <a href="#page99">99</a>, <a href= +"#page100">100</a>;</li> +<li>who died of love, <a href="#page161">161</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Knowles, J. H., <a href="#page111">111</a>, <a href= +"#fn_40">[40]</a>.</li> +<li>Kurán, <a href="#page65">65</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexL"> +<li>Ladies, witty Persian, <a href="#page63">63</a>.</li> +<li>Laing, David, <a href="#fn_136">[136]</a>.</li> +<li>La Fontaine, <a href="#page278">278</a>.</li> +<li>Landsberger on Fables, <a href="#page239">239</a>.</li> +<li><a id="indexLangles" name="indexLangles"></a>Langlès +(<em>not</em> Lescallier), <a href="#fn_33">[33]</a>.</li> +<li>La Rochefoucauld, <a href="#page23">23</a>.</li> +<li>Lappländische Märchen, <a href= +"#page181">181</a>.</li> +<li>Laughter, <a href="#page59">59</a>, <a href= +"#page60">60</a>.</li> +<li>Laylá and Majnún, <a href= +"#page283">283</a>.</li> +<li>Lazy servants, <a href="#page76">76</a>.</li> +<li>Learned man and blockhead, <a href="#page49">49</a>; +<ul> +<li>youth, modesty of, <a href="#page27">27</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Learning the best treasure, <a href="#fn_9">[9]</a>; +<ul> +<li>and virtue, <a href="#page47">47</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Le Grand’s Fabliaux, <a href="#fn_34">[34]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_155">[155]</a>, <a href="#fn_156">[156]</a>.</li> +<li>Legrand’s Popular Greek Tales, <a href= +"#page276">276</a>.</li> +<li>Lescallier, <a href="#page173">173</a>—<em>see</em> also +<a href="#indexLangles">Langlès</a>.</li> +<li>Liars, <a href="#page261">261</a>.</li> +<li>Liber de Donis, <a href="#fn_132">[132]</a>.</li> +<li>Liberality to the poor, <a href="#page24">24</a>, <a href= +"#page44">44</a>, <a href="#page48">48</a>,</li> +<li>Liberality and fortitude, <a href="#page24">24</a>.</li> +<li>Life, Tree of, <a href="#page174">174</a>; +<ul> +<li>Water of, <a href="#page174">174</a>, <a href= +"#page177">177</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Lions, tail of the, <a href="#page263">263</a>.</li> +<li>Liwá’í, Persian poet, <a href= +"#page95">95</a>.</li> +<li>Lokman, sayings of, <a href="#page310">310</a>.</li> +<li>Luminous Jewels, <a href="#page196">196</a>.</li> +<li>Love, dying for, <a href="#page161">161</a>, <a href= +"#page163">163</a>.</li> +<li>Lovers, Arabian, <a href="#page283">283</a>, <a href= +"#page294">294</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexM"> +<li>Madden, Sir F., <a href="#fn_63">[63]</a>.</li> +<li>Magic Bowl, etc., <a href="#page153">153</a>, <a href= +"#page157">157</a>, <a href="#page181">181</a>.</li> +<li>Maiden and Saádí, <a href="#page28">28</a>.</li> +<li>Maimonides, <a href="#page186">186</a>.</li> +<li>Majnún and Laylá, <a href= +"#page273">273</a>.</li> +<li>Makamat of El-Harírí, <a href= +"#fn_70">[70]</a>.</li> +<li>Malcolm’s Sketches of Persia, <a href="#page107">107</a>, +<a href="#page116">116</a>.</li> +<li>Man, a laughing animal, <a href="#page59">59</a>; +<ul> +<li>and his three friends, <a href="#page247">247</a>;</li> +<li>and the place, <a href="#page262">262</a>;</li> +<li>the mighty man, <a href="#page261">261</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Manna, daily, <a href="#page266">266</a>.</li> +<li>Manuel, Don Juan, <a href="#fn_30">[30]</a>.</li> +<li>Marcus Aurelius, <a href="#fn_20">[20]</a>.</li> +<li>Mare kicked by a horse, <a href="#page132">132</a>.</li> +<li>Marelle, Charles, <a href="#fn_59">[59]</a>.</li> +<li>Marguerite, queen of Navarre, <a href="#fn_31">[31]</a>, +<a href="#page323">323</a>.</li> +<li>Marie de France, <a href="#fn_90">[90]</a>.</li> +<li>Massinger’s plays, <a href="#page331">331</a>.</li> +<li>Mazarin, Cardinal, <a href="#page52">52</a>.</li> +<li>Meir’s (Rabbi) fables, <a href="#page240">240</a>.</li> +<li>Mélanges de Litt. Orient., <a href= +"#page83">83</a>.</li> +<li>Merchant and lady, <a href="#page87">87</a>; +<ul> +<li>and poor Bedouin, <a href="#page95">95</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Merchandise, <a href="#page262">262</a>.</li> +<li>Mery Tales and Quicke Answeres, <a href="#fn_10">[10]</a>, +<a href="#fn_28">[28]</a>, <a href="#fn_75">[75]</a>, <a href= +"#page321">321</a>.</li> +<li>Mesíhí’s ode on spring, <a href= +"#page15">15</a>.</li> +<li>Metempsychosis, <a href="#page179">179</a>, <a href= +"#page301">301</a>.</li> +<li>Mihra-i Iskandar, <a href="#page18">18</a>.</li> +<li>Milton’s Paradise Lost, <a href="#page270">270</a>.</li> +<li>Mind, the infant, <a href="#page261">261</a>.</li> +<li>Miser, <a href="#page262">262</a>.</li> +<li>Misers, Muslim, <a href="#page71">71</a>, <a href= +"#page72">72</a>.</li> +<li>Mishlé Sandabar, <a href="#page173">173</a>.</li> +<li>Misfortunes of friends, <a href="#page23">23</a>.</li> +<li>Mishna, authors of the, <a href="#page186">186</a>.</li> +<li>Mole on the face, <a href="#page291">291</a>.</li> +<li>Money, in praise of, <a href="#fn_42">[42]</a>; +<ul> +<li>sound of two coins, <a href="#page262">262</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Monsters, unheard of, <a href="#page224">224</a>.</li> +<li>Moon, a type of female beauty, <a href= +"#fn_117">[117]</a>.</li> +<li>Moses and Pharaoh, <a href="#page208">208</a>; +<ul> +<li>height of Moses, <a href="#page225">225</a>;</li> +<li>Moses and the Poor Woodcutter, <a href="#page270">270</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Muezzin with harsh voice, <a href="#page33">33</a>.</li> +<li>Muhammedan legends, <a href="#fn_62">[62]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_68">[68]</a>, <a href="#fn_71">[71]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_75">[75]</a>, <a href="#fn_76">[76]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_77">[77]</a>, <a href="#fn_79">[79]</a>, <a href= +"#page268">268</a>, <a href="#page270">270</a>.</li> +<li>Mukhlis of Isfahán, <a href="#page135">135</a>.</li> +<li>Music, discovery of, <a href="#page163">163</a>; +<ul> +<li>effects of, <a href="#page7">7</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Musician, bad, <a href="#page7">7</a>.</li> +<li>Muslim confession of Faith, <a href="#fn_24">[24]</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexN"> +<li>Nakhshabí, <a href="#page46">46</a>, <a href= +"#page124">124</a>, <a href="#fn_96">[96]</a>.</li> +<li>Name, the Great, <a href="#page214">214</a>.</li> +<li>Nasr-ed-Dín, Khoja, <a href="#page65">65</a>.</li> +<li>Natésa Sastrí, <a href="#page73">73</a>.</li> +<li>Nathan of Babylon, <a href="#page260">260</a>.</li> +<li>‘Neck-verse,’ <a href="#page331">331</a>.</li> +<li>Neighbour, objectionable, <a href="#page37">37</a>.</li> +<li>‘Night and Day,’ <a href="#page61">61</a>.</li> +<li>Nightingale and Ant, <a href="#page41">41</a>; +<ul> +<li>and Rose, <a href="#page42">42</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Nimrod and Abraham, <a href="#page253">253</a>.</li> +<li>Noah, <a href="#page194">194</a>, <a href="#page196">196</a>, +<a href="#page225">225</a>, <a href="#page270">270</a>.</li> +<li>Noble’s Orientalist, <a href="#page141">141</a>.</li> +<li>‘No rule without exception,’ <a href= +"#page119">119</a>.</li> +<li>Numerals, Arabic, <a href="#page240">240</a>.</li> +<li>Núshírván the Just, <a href= +"#page21">21</a>, <a href="#page37">37</a>.</li> +<li>Nye, Philip, <a href="#page346">346</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexO"> +<li>Og, king of Bashan, <a href="#page225">225</a>, <a href= +"#page226">226</a>.</li> +<li>Old man and young wife, <a href="#page29">29</a>.</li> +<li>Old man’s prayer, <a href="#page109">109</a>; +<ul> +<li>reason for not marrying, <a href="#page31">31</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Old woman in mosque, <a href="#page109">109</a>.</li> +<li>Omens, unlucky, <a href="#page107">107</a>, <a href= +"#page108">108</a>.</li> +<li>Opportunity, <a href="#page263">263</a>.</li> +<li>Oriental story-books, general plan of, <a href= +"#page123">123</a>.</li> +<li>Orientalist, or Letters of a Rabbi, <a href= +"#page141">141</a>.</li> +<li>Origin, all things return to their, <a href= +"#page131">131</a>.</li> +<li>Ouseley, Sir Gore, <a href="#page6">6</a>, <a href= +"#fn_22">[22]</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexP"> +<li>Painter and critics, <a href="#page78">78</a>.</li> +<li>Panchatantra, <a href="#fn_20">[20]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_44">[44]</a>, <a href="#page140">140</a>, <a href= +"#page146">146</a>, <a href="#page147">147</a>, <a href= +"#page159">159</a>, <a href="#page240">240</a>.</li> +<li>Panjábí Legends, <a href="#page179">179</a>.</li> +<li>Paradise, persons translated to, <a href= +"#fn_71">[71]</a>.</li> +<li>Parents, reverence for, <a href="#page236">236</a>.</li> +<li>Parrot and maina, <a href="#page178">178</a>; +<ul> +<li>oilman’s parrot, <a href="#page114">114</a>;</li> +<li>Moghul’s parrot, <a href="#page116">116</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Parrot-Book, <a href="#page124">124</a>; +<ul> +<li>frame-story of, <a href="#page125">125</a>, <a href= +"#page178">178</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Parrot, Seventy Tales of a, <a href="#page124">124</a>.</li> +<li>Parrots in Hindú fictions, <a href= +"#page179">179</a>.</li> +<li>Passion-service, <a href="#page323">323</a>, <a href= +"#page326">326</a>.</li> +<li>Pasquil’s Jests, <a href="#fn_30">[30]</a>, <a href= +"#page330">330</a>.</li> +<li>Patient Grissell, <a href="#page331">331</a>.</li> +<li>‘Paveant illi,’ etc., <a href= +"#page319">319</a>.</li> +<li>Payne’s Arabian Nights, <a href="#page274">274</a>.</li> +<li>Peasant in Paradise, <a href="#page327">327</a>.</li> +<li>Peasants, Foolish, <a href="#page111">111</a>.</li> +<li>Persian and his cat, <a href="#page80">80</a>; +<ul> +<li>and the governor, <a href="#page116">116</a>;</li> +<li>courtier and old friend, <a href="#page79">79</a>;</li> +<li>ladies, witty, <a href="#page63">63</a>;</li> +<li>Moonshee, <a href="#page71">71</a>;</li> +<li>poet and the impostor, <a href="#page106">106</a>;</li> +<li>Tales of a Thousand and one Days, <a href="#fn_33">[33]</a>, +<a href="#page135">135</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Petis de la Croix, <a href="#fn_33">[33]</a>.</li> +<li>Petronius Arbiter, <a href="#fn_134">[134]</a>.</li> +<li>Phædrus, <a href="#page300">300</a>.</li> +<li>Pharaoh and Moses, <a href="#page208">208</a>.</li> +<li>Pharaoh’s daughters, <a href="#page209">209</a>.</li> +<li>Pirke Aboth, <a href="#page260">260</a>.</li> +<li>Plants, to keep alive, <a href="#page78">78</a>.</li> +<li>Planudes’ Life of Esop, <a href="#fn_38">[38]</a>, +<a href="#page301">301</a>.</li> +<li>Poets in praise of springtide, <a href="#page14">14</a>.</li> +<li>Poet, rich man and, <a href="#page107">107</a>.</li> +<li>Poet’s meaning, <a href="#page104">104</a>.</li> +<li>Poetry, ‘stealing,’ <a href= +"#page106">106</a>.</li> +<li>Poets, royal gifts to, <a href="#page101">101</a>, <a href= +"#page104">104</a>, <a href="#page105">105</a>.</li> +<li>Poverty, <a href="#page263">263</a>.</li> +<li>Prayers, odd, <a href="#page71">71</a>, <a href= +"#page109">109</a>.</li> +<li>Preachers, Muslim, <a href="#page34">34</a>, <a href= +"#page66">66</a>, <a href="#page70">70</a>, <a href= +"#page71">71</a>.</li> +<li>Precept and Practice, <a href="#page47">47</a>, <a href= +"#page263">263</a>.</li> +<li>Prefaces to books, <a href="#page11">11</a>.</li> +<li>Priest confessing poor man, <a href="#page325">325</a>.</li> +<li>Pride, <a href="#page261">261</a>.</li> +<li>Princess of Rúm and her son, <a href= +"#page166">166</a>.</li> +<li>Procrustes, bed of, <a href="#fn_65">[65]</a>.</li> +<li>Prodigality, <a href="#page24">24</a>.</li> +<li>Psalm-singing at gallows, <a href="#page331">331</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexQ"> +<li>Quevedo’s Visions, <a href="#page343">343</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexR"> +<li>Rabbi and the poor woman, <a href="#page227">227</a>; +<ul> +<li>and the emperor Trajan, <a href="#page265">265</a>;</li> +<li>and the cup of wine, <a href="#page119">119</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Ralston’s Russian Folk-Tales, <a href="#page141">141</a>; +<ul> +<li>Tibetan Tales, <a href="#page159">159</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>‘Ram caught in a thicket,’ <a href= +"#page205">205</a>.</li> +<li>Rasálú, Legend of Rájá, <a href= +"#page178">178</a>.</li> +<li>Rats that ate iron, <a href="#fn_44">[44]</a>.</li> +<li>Richardson, Octavia, <a href="#fn_149">[149]</a>.</li> +<li>Rich, Barnaby, <a href="#page350">350</a>.</li> +<li>Riches, <a href="#page44">44</a>, <a href="#page50">50</a>, +<a href="#page261">261</a>.</li> +<li>Rieu, Charles, <a href="#fn_41">[41]</a>.</li> +<li>Robber and the Khoja, <a href="#page69">69</a>.</li> +<li>Rogers, the poet, <a href="#page359">359</a>.</li> +<li>Rose and Nightingale, <a href="#page42">42</a>.</li> +<li>Ross, David, <a href="#page278">278</a>.</li> +<li>Rúm, country of, <a href="#fn_46">[46]</a>.</li> +<li>Russian Folk-Tales, <a href="#page141">141</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexS"> +<li>Saádí: sketch of his life, <a href= +"#page3">3</a>; +<ul> +<li>character of his writings, <a href="#page6">6</a>;</li> +<li>on a bad musician, <a href="#page7">7</a>;</li> +<li>his ‘Gulistán,’ <a href="#page9">9</a>;</li> +<li>prefaces to books, <a href="#page11">11</a>;</li> +<li>preface to the ‘Gulistán,’ <a href= +"#page12">12</a>;</li> +<li>the fair cup-bearer, <a href="#page28">28</a>;</li> +<li>assured of lasting fame, <a href="#page55">55</a>;</li> +<li>on money, <a href="#page125">125</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Sacchetti, <a href="#page231">231</a>, <a href= +"#fn_133">[133]</a>.</li> +<li>Saint-worship, <a href="#page321">321</a>, <a href= +"#page327">327</a>.</li> +<li>Samradians, sect of the, <a href="#page97">97</a>.</li> +<li>Satan in form of a deer, <a href="#page213">213</a>.</li> +<li>Satiety and hunger, <a href="#page45">45</a>.</li> +<li>Sayce, A. H., <a href="#fn_71">[71]</a>.</li> +<li>Scarronides, <a href="#fn_157">[157]</a>.</li> +<li>Schoolmaster and wit, <a href="#page79">79</a>.</li> +<li>Scornfulness, <a href="#page260">260</a>.</li> +<li>Scott’s ‘Lay,’ <a href= +"#page331">331</a>.</li> +<li>Scribe’s excuse, <a href="#page79">79</a>.</li> +<li>Secrets, <a href="#page48">48</a>, <a href= +"#page263">263</a>.</li> +<li>Seneca on aphorisms, <a href="#page259">259</a>.</li> +<li>Senegambian Tales, <a href="#page278">278</a>.</li> +<li>Sermon, burlesque, <a href="#page328">328</a>.</li> +<li>Servant, wakeful, <a href="#page112">112</a>.</li> +<li>Servants, lazy, <a href="#page76">76</a>.</li> +<li>Seven stages of human life, <a href="#page257">257</a>.</li> +<li>Seven Vazírs, <a href="#page173">173</a> +<ul> +<li><em>see also</em> <a href="#indexSindibad">Sindibád, +Book of</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Seven Wise Masters, <a href="#page133">133</a>, <a href= +"#page173">173</a>, <a href="#page178">178</a>, <a href= +"#fn_134">[134]</a>.</li> +<li>Shakspeare, <a href="#page53">53</a>, <a href= +"#page163">163</a>, <a href="#page257">257</a>, <a href= +"#page342">342</a>, <a href="#page347">347</a>, <a href= +"#page349">349</a>, <a href="#page350">350</a>.</li> +<li>Sheba, Queen of, <a href="#page218">218</a>.</li> +<li>Shelley’s Queen Mab, <a href="#fn_126">[126]</a>.</li> +<li>Signing with ×, <a href="#page333">333</a>.</li> +<li>Silence, on keeping, <a href="#page38">38</a>, <a href= +"#page39">39</a>, <a href="#page45">45</a>, <a href= +"#page263">263</a>.</li> +<li>Simonides, <a href="#fn_12">[12]</a>.</li> +<li><a id="indexSindibad" name="indexSindibad"></a>Sindibád, +Book of, <a href="#page123">123</a>, <a href="#page159">159</a>, +<a href="#page173">173</a>, <a href="#page176">176</a>, <a href= +"#page178">178</a>, <a href="#page306">306</a>.</li> +<li>Singing Ass, <a href="#page149">149</a>.</li> +<li>Sinhásana Dwatrinsati, <a href="#page124">124</a>.</li> +<li>Shopkeeper and governor, <a href="#page116">116</a>.</li> +<li>Sindbán, <a href="#page173">173</a>.</li> +<li>‘Skip over three leaves,’ <a href= +"#page322">322</a>.</li> +<li>Slander, <a href="#page44">44</a>.</li> +<li>Slave, witty, <a href="#page35">35</a>.</li> +<li>Slippers, the unlucky, <a href="#page83">83</a>.</li> +<li>Smith, Horace, <a href="#page53">53</a>.</li> +<li>Smiths and rich man, <a href="#page77">77</a>.</li> +<li>Socrates, <a href="#page300">300</a>, <a href= +"#page338">338</a>.</li> +<li>Sodom, the citizens of, <a href="#page198">198</a>.</li> +<li>Solomon: advice to three men, <a href="#page215">215</a>; +<ul> +<li>the Queen of Sheba, <a href="#page218">218</a>;</li> +<li>the egg-stealer, <a href="#fn_75">[75]</a>;</li> +<li>his signet-ring, <a href="#page220">220</a>;</li> +<li>his lost fables, <a href="#page239">239</a>;</li> +<li>his precocious sagacity, <a href="#page73">73</a>;</li> +<li>his choice of wisdom, <a href="#page249">249</a>;</li> +<li>the serpent’s prey, <a href="#page274">274</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Son, dutiful, <a href="#page236">236</a>.</li> +<li>Sorrow, times of, <a href="#page260">260</a>.</li> +<li>Spectator, Addison’s, <a href="#page359">359</a>.</li> +<li>Spenser, Edmund, <a href="#fn_117">[117]</a>.</li> +<li>Springtide, in praise of, <a href="#page14">14</a>.</li> +<li>Stingy merchant and poor Bedouin, <a href= +"#page95">95</a>.</li> +<li>Story-teller and the King, <a href="#page100">100</a>.</li> +<li>Stubbes on beards and barbers, <a href="#page352">352</a>.</li> +<li>Stupidity, <a href="#page26">26</a>.</li> +<li>Súfís, <a href="#fn_21">[21]</a>.</li> +<li>Suka Saptati, <a href="#page124">124</a>.</li> +<li>Sully and the courtiers, <a href="#page341">341</a>.</li> +<li>Summa Praedicantium, <a href="#fn_132">[132]</a>.</li> +<li>Superiors and inferiors, <a href="#page260">260</a>.</li> +<li>Swynnerton, Charles, <a href="#fn_54">[54]</a>.</li> +<li>Syntipas, <a href="#page173">173</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexT"> +<li>Tales and Quicke Answeres, <a href="#fn_10">[10]</a>, <a href= +"#fn_28">[28]</a>, <a href="#fn_75">[75]</a>, <a href= +"#page321">321</a>.</li> +<li>Talkers, comprehensive, <a href="#fn_17">[17]</a>.</li> +<li>Talmud, authors of the, <a href="#page185">185</a>, <a href= +"#page186">186</a>; +<ul> +<li>traducers of the, <a href="#page187">187</a>;</li> +<li>teachings of the, <a href="#page188">188</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Tantrákhyána, <a href="#page159">159</a>.</li> +<li>Taylor’s Wit and Mirth, <a href="#page330">330</a>; +<ul> +<li>Superbiae Flagellum, <a href="#page351">351</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Teaching and learning, <a href="#page262">262</a>.</li> +<li>Temple’s Panjábí Legends, <a href= +"#page179">179</a>.</li> +<li>Thálebí and the Khalíf, <a href= +"#page105">105</a>.</li> +<li>Thief, self-convicted, <a href="#fn_75">[75]</a>; +<ul> +<li>without opportunity, <a href="#page263">263</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Thieves, Foolish, <a href="#page151">151</a>.</li> +<li>Thomson’s Seasons, <a href="#page46">46</a>.</li> +<li>Three Dervishes, <a href="#page113">113</a>.</li> +<li>Throne, Tales of a, <a href="#page124">124</a>.</li> +<li>Tibetan Tales, <a href="#page159">159</a>.</li> +<li>Tongue, the key of wisdom, <a href="#page46">46</a>.</li> +<li>Tongues, dish of, <a href="#page305">305</a>.</li> +<li>‘Tongues in Trees,’ <a href="#page53">53</a>.</li> +<li>Trajan and the Rabbi, <a href="#page265">265</a>.</li> +<li>Treasure, concealed, <a href="#fn_44">[44]</a>.</li> +<li>Treasure-seekers, the Four, <a href="#page144">144</a>.</li> +<li>Tree of Life, <a href="#page174">174</a>, <a href= +"#page177">177</a>.</li> +<li>Trouvères, <a href="#page327">327</a>.</li> +<li>Turkish Jester: in the pulpit, <a href="#page66">66</a>; +<ul> +<li>the cauldron, <a href="#page67">67</a>;</li> +<li>the beggar, <a href="#page68">68</a>;</li> +<li>the drunken governor, <a href="#page68">68</a>;</li> +<li>the robber, <a href="#page69">69</a>;</li> +<li>the hot broth, <a href="#page69">69</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Turkish poetess, <a href="#page17">17</a>.</li> +<li>Turkmans, weeping, <a href="#page110">110</a>.</li> +<li>Tútí Náma, <a href="#page124">124</a>; +<ul> +<li>frame story, <a href="#page125">125</a>, <a href= +"#page178">178</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Tyl Eulenspiegel, <a href="#fn_133">[133]</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexU"> +<li>Ugly wife, <a href="#page61">61</a>, <a href= +"#page62">62</a>.</li> +<li>Uncle Remus, <a href="#page279">279</a>.</li> +<li>Unicorn, <a href="#page225">225</a>.</li> +<li>Unlucky omens, <a href="#page107">107</a>, <a href= +"#page108">108</a>.</li> +<li>Unlucky slippers, <a href="#page83">83</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexV"> +<li>Van Butchell, <a href="#page348">348</a>.</li> +<li>Vasayadatta, <a href="#page133">133</a>.</li> +<li>Vase, use thy, <a href="#page263">263</a>.</li> +<li>Vatsyayana’s Káma Sutra, <a href= +"#page126">126</a>.</li> +<li>Vazírs, the Seven, <a href="#page173">173</a>.</li> +<li>Vetála Panchavinsati, <a href="#page124">124</a>, +<a href="#page162">162</a>, <a href="#page179">179</a>.</li> +<li>Vicious hate the virtuous, <a href="#page44">44</a>.</li> +<li>Vine, planting of the, <a href="#page196">196</a>.</li> +<li>Virgil Travestie, <a href="#page332">332</a>.</li> +<li>Virtue cannot come out of vice, <a href="#page50">50</a>.</li> +<li>Visitors, troublesome, <a href="#page40">40</a>.</li> +<li>Von Hammer, <a href="#page293">293</a>.</li> +<li>Vrihat Kathá, <a href="#page158">158</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexW"> +<li>Wakeful servant, <a href="#page112">112</a>.</li> +<li>Wamik and Azra, <a href="#page293">293</a>.</li> +<li>Want: moderation, <a href="#page7">7</a>.</li> +<li>Warton’s Hist. of Eng. Poetry, <a href= +"#page163">163</a>.</li> +<li>Water of Life, <a href="#page174">174</a>, <a href= +"#page177">177</a>.</li> +<li>Weil’s Bible, Korán, and Talmud, <a href= +"#page273">273</a>.</li> +<li>Weeping Turkmans, <a href="#page110">110</a>.</li> +<li>Wheel on man’s head, <a href="#page146">146</a>, <a href= +"#page147">147</a>.</li> +<li>Wicked rich man, <a href="#page44">44</a>.</li> +<li>Widowhood, compulsory, <a href="#page287">287</a>.</li> +<li>Wife, choosing a, <a href="#page263">263</a>.</li> +<li>Williams, Sir Monier, <a href="#page259">259</a>.</li> +<li>Will, Ingenious, <a href="#page237">237</a>.</li> +<li>Wisdom, who gains, <a href="#page261">261</a>.</li> +<li>Wise man in mean company, <a href="#page49">49</a>.</li> +<li>Witches’ beards, <a href="#page358">358</a>.</li> +<li>Witty Baghdádí, <a href="#page83">83</a>; +<ul> +<li>Isfahání, <a href="#page116">116</a>;</li> +<li>Jewish boys, <a href="#page117">117</a>, <a href= +"#page118">118</a>;</li> +<li>Persian ladies, <a href="#page63">63</a>;</li> +<li>slave, <a href="#page35">35</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Woman: carved out of wood, <a href="#page130">130</a>; +<ul> +<li>seven requisites of, <a href="#page165">165</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Woman’s counsel, <a href="#page64">64</a>, <a href= +"#page65">65</a>; +<ul> +<li>wiles, <a href="#page87">87</a>.</li> +</ul> +</li> +<li>Women, bearded, <a href="#page358">358</a>.</li> +<li>Woodcutter and Moses, <a href="#page270">270</a>.</li> +<li>World of Wonders, <a href="#fn_148">[148]</a>.</li> +<li>Wright’s Latin Stories, <a href="#page76">76</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexY"> +<li>Young’s Night Thoughts, <a href="#page46">46</a>.</li> +<li>Youth, modest and learned, <a href="#page27">27</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul id="indexZ"> +<li>Zemzem, <a href="#page285">285</a>.</li> +<li>Zotenberg, Hermann, <a href="#fn_91">[91]</a>.</li> +<li>Zozimus, the ballad-singer, <a href="#fn_71">[71]</a>.</li> +<li>Zulaykhá, Potiphar’s wife, <a href= +"#fn_68">[68]</a>.</li> +</ul> +</div> +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Flowers from a Persian Garden and +Other Papers, by W. 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