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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/77806-0.txt b/77806-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3825299 --- /dev/null +++ b/77806-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8482 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77806 *** + + + + + =Columbia University= + + _STUDIES IN COMPARATIVE LITERATURE_ + + + THE ORIENTAL TALE IN ENGLAND + + IN THE + + EIGHTEENTH CENTURY + + +This monograph has been recommended by the Department of Comparative +Literature as a contribution to the literature of the subject worthy of +publication. + + J. B. FLETCHER, + _Professor of Comparative Literature_. + + + + + THE + ORIENTAL TALE IN ENGLAND + IN THE + EIGHTEENTH CENTURY + + + BY + + MARTHA PIKE CONANT, PH.D. + +[Illustration: Crowned emblem showing an open book beneath a crown; the +left page reads “1754 Columbia 1839,” the right page reads “University +Press,” with a scroll below bearing a Latin motto.] + + =New York= + THE COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS + 1908 + + _All rights reserved_ + + + COPYRIGHT, 1908, + BY THE COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS. + + Set up and electrotyped. Published January, 1908. + + + Norwood Press + J. S. Cushing Co.—Berwick & Smith Co. + Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. + + + =To= + + MY SISTER + + CHARLOTTE HOWARD CONANT + + + + + PREFACE + + +This essay is a study in eighteenth-century English literature. The +author disclaims any knowledge of the oriental languages and attempts no +discussion of the ultimate sources of those genuine oriental tales that +appeared in English in the eighteenth century. Such a discussion is not +the purpose of this study. The aim here is rather to give a clear and +accurate description of a distinct component part of eighteenth-century +English fiction in its relation to its French sources and to the general +current of English thought. The oriental fiction that was not original +in English came, almost without exception, from French imitations or +translations of genuine oriental tales; hence, as a study in comparative +literature, a consideration of the oriental tale in England during the +eighteenth century possesses distinct interest. Moreover the presence of +this oriental and pseudo-oriental fiction in England,—as in France,—and +the mingled enthusiasm and disapproval with which in both countries it +was greeted, testify to the strength of established classicism and to +the advent of the new romantic spirit. The history of the oriental tale +in England in the eighteenth century might be called an episode in the +development of English Romanticism. + +No general survey such as the present volume undertakes, has before been +made. Certain chapters in _Die Vorläufer der Modernen Novelle im 18ten +Jahrhundert_ (1897), by Dr. Rudolph Fürst, approach most nearly to the +present treatment and have given valuable suggestions; H. W. Weber’s +_Introduction_ to his _Tales of the East_ (1812) contains useful data; +M. Pierre Martino’s work, _L’Orient dans la littérature française au +XVII^e et au XVIII^e siècle_ (1906), came to hand after this essay was +practically completed, but has proved of distinct value; and M. Victor +Chauvin’s monumental _Bibliographie des ouvrages arabes_ (1892–1905) is +indispensable to any student of this subject. The _Bibliography, +Appendix B, II._, pp. 294–306, of this volume gives the full titles of +these and other books of reference to which I am indebted. None of +these, however, gives anything except incidental or partial treatment of +this subject. No attempt has hitherto been made to consider in a single +survey all the oriental and pseudo-oriental fiction that appeared in +England during the eighteenth century. + +It is a pleasure to take this opportunity of thanking the many friends +whose assistance I have found invaluable. This book is the fruit of +studies begun under the inspiration of Professor George Edward +Woodberry,—an inspiration best appreciated by those students who had the +rare privilege of hearing his lectures and receiving his illuminating +and kindly criticism. To Dr. Frank W. Chandler, Professor of English in +the Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute and formerly Instructor in +Comparative Literature in Columbia University, I owe my first definite +interest in the English Romantic Movement. To Dr. J. E. Spingarn, +Adjunct-Professor of Comparative Literature, I am deeply indebted for +friendly criticisms and counsel. To Professor Jefferson B. Fletcher, of +the Department of Comparative Literature, I am especially grateful for +constant assistance during the past year—assistance as generous as it +was helpful; without it I could hardly have brought my work to +completion. To many of my fellow-students at Columbia University I am +under obligations: to Miss Mary Gertrude Cushing, now of the Department +of Romance Languages and Literatures at Mount Holyoke College, for +transcriptions made at the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris; to Mr. A. D. +Compton, Instructor in English in the College of the City of New York, +for notes on certain oriental tales; to Dr. John S. Harrison, of the +English Department of Kenyon College, for assistance in research; to Mr. +S. L. Wolff, Adjunct-Professor of English in the University of +Tennessee, for a study of oriental allusions in the eighteenth-century +periodicals; to Mr. Wolff and to Dr. S. M. Tucker, Professor of English +in the Florida State College for Women, for valuable suggestions. I +would acknowledge also the courtesies extended by the Librarians of the +British Museum, by Mr. T. J. Kiernan of the Harvard University Library, +and by the authorities of the Columbia University Library, especially +Mr. Frederic W. Erb. For assistance in research at the British Museum I +would thank my sister, Charlotte H. Conant; for similar work at Harvard +and in the Boston Libraries, Miss Mary H. Buckingham. Miss Buckingham +enriched my initial bibliography by examining the entire _Catalogue of +Printed Books_ of the British Museum. Finally, to Dr. Duncan B. +Macdonald and Dr. Edward Everett Hale I wish to express my appreciation +of their kindness in lending me valuable books. + +The Appendices to the present volume comprise _Appendix A, Notes_, +chiefly concerning the indebtedness of Byron and others to the oriental +tales; and _Appendix B, I._, a _Chronological Table_, giving full titles +of the oriental tales considered, and _II._, a _Bibliography_ of the +books of reference most useful in a study of this subject. Each book in +_Appendix B, I._ and _II._, is numbered, and will be referred to in +footnotes by number when it is unnecessary to cite the full title; +_e.g._ in the footnote on p. 2, “Cf. App. B, I., No. 4, p. 269,” +reference is made to the full title of the earliest known edition of the +_Arabian Nights_, as given on p. 269. The date following the first +mention of an oriental tale is, unless otherwise specified, the date of +the first English edition, _e.g._ on p. 13, “1714” following “the +_Persian Tales_ or the _Thousand and One Days_.” Complete lists of the +oriental tales by the eighteenth-century essayists will be found in App. +B, I., _e.g._ No. 11, pp. 271, 272, _Addison_. Unknown essayists are +grouped, _e.g._ No. 12, p. 272. + + M. P. C. + + COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, + June, 1907. + + + + + CONTENTS + + + PAGE + INTRODUCTION xv + CHAPTER I + THE IMAGINATIVE GROUP 1 + CHAPTER II + THE MORALISTIC GROUP 73 + CHAPTER III + THE PHILOSOPHIC GROUP 112 + CHAPTER IV + THE SATIRIC GROUP 155 + CHAPTER V + LITERARY ESTIMATE 226 + APPENDIX A. NOTES 257 + APPENDIX B. I. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE 267 + APPENDIX B. II. BOOKS OF REFERENCE 294 + INDEX 307 + + + + + INTRODUCTION + + +In a study of the oriental tale in England in the eighteenth century, +the high lights fall upon the _Arabian Nights_, Dr. Johnson’s +_Rasselas_, Goldsmith’s _Citizen of the World_, and Beckford’s _Vathek_. +The present volume aims to depict clearly the interesting orientalizing +tendency of which these apparently isolated works were the best +manifestations—a tendency itself a part of the larger movement of +English Romanticism. By “the oriental tale in England” I mean all the +oriental and pseudo-oriental fiction—chiefly prose—that appeared in +English, whether written originally in English or translated from the +French. Much of the fiction I shall consider deserves distinctly to be +called pseudo-oriental, _Rasselas_, for instance, and _The Citizen of +the World_; on the other hand, much of it, such as the _Arabian Nights_ +and kindred literature, is genuinely oriental despite its +eighteenth-century dress. By “oriental” I mean pertaining to or derived +from “those countries, collectively, that begin with Islam on the +eastern Mediterranean and stretch through Asia,”[1] with—so far as this +specific treatment of the subject goes—one notable exception, Palestine. +To the Western mind to-day the Holy Land occupies, as Professor Pierre +Martino has pointed out, a unique position somewhat apart from other +oriental countries, a position which is of course due to the inherited +traditions of Christianity.[2] In the eighteenth century this feeling +was far more pronounced than it is in these days of modern scholarship; +and therefore, from the eighteenth-century “oriental” literature under +consideration we may legitimately exclude Hebrew literature and its +imitations. “Oriental,” then, includes here what it included according +to Galland, the first translator of the _Arabian Nights_ into French: +“Sous le nom d’Orientaux, je ne comprends pas seulement les Arabes et +les Persans, mais encore les Turcs et les Tartares et presque tous les +peuples de l’Asie jusqu’à la Chine, mahométans ou païens et +idolâtres.”[3] + +The scope of our subject in time is less readily defined; since, as in +the case of most literary tendencies, both beginning and end were +gradual and transitional. The prelude was sounded in the late +seventeenth century by the first English translation of Marana’s satire, +_The Turkish Spy_. Yet, broadly speaking, the period began between the +years 1704 and 1712, with the first English version of the _Arabian +Nights_, a book so different in character from any oriental fiction then +known in England, and so far-reaching in influence, that it forms the +natural point of departure. The period drew to a close with the advent +of the more modern and scholarly translations of various works made +directly from oriental languages, which influenced later the poetry of +Southey, Moore, Byron, and others. For the approximate date we may take +1786. In that year was published _Vathek_,[4] the last notable oriental +tale of the century, itself foreshadowing the coming work of scholars +and poets. Only two years earlier Sir William Jones, the great +orientalist, had given his inaugural lecture as first president of the +Asiatic Society of Bengal. Yet the date 1786 is approximate only; for in +the sixties and seventies, some direct translations were made; and in +the eighties and nineties oriental tales appeared, so similar in +character to those of this period that they must logically be included. +For the period as a whole, despite the transitional nature of the +beginning and the end, has a distinctive character. It is obviously +different from the period that followed. The latter, beginning with the +direct translations by orientalists, has, from the days of Sir William +Jones to those of Kipling, been characterized by an increasing knowledge +of the Orient at first hand. By travel and residence in the East, by +contact with Eastern peoples, as well as by study of oriental history, +literature, and philosophy, Englishmen of the nineteenth and twentieth +centuries have learned to know more of the “inscrutable Orient” than +their ancestors of the eighteenth century ever imagined possible.[5] +This fact at once and radically differentiates these later centuries +from the period we are to consider. A brief glance over the history of +oriental fiction in England previous to the eighteenth century will make +the distinction equally clear from that side. + +Oriental fiction had been borne to England from an early period by +various waves of influence. As far back as the eleventh century, +fictitious descriptions of the marvels of India are found in Anglo-Saxon +translations of legends concerning Alexander the Great. During the +Middle Ages many Eastern stories drifted across Europe by way of Syria, +Byzantium, Italy, and Spain. Merchants and travelers like Marco Polo, +missionaries, pilgrims, and crusaders aided the oral transmission of +this fiction; and scholars gave to Europe Latin translations of four +great collections of genuine oriental tales: _Sendebar_; _Kalila and +Dimna_, or _The Fables of Bidpai_; _Disciplina Clericalis_; and _Barlaam +and Josaphat_. A definite, though not large, share in this +treasure-trove fell to the lot of England and appeared in the form of +metrical romances, apologues, legends, and tales of adventure. The +_fabliau_ of _Dame Siriz_, _The Proces of the Sevyn Sages_, Mandeville’s +_Voiage_, Chaucer’s _Squier’s Tale_,—possibly several other _Canterbury +Tales_,—are typical instances. + +In the sixteenth century, that great period of translation, were +published the first English editions of the _Gesta Romanorum_ and of the +_Fables of Bidpai_, the latter entitled _The Morall Philosophie of +Doni_ ... _englished out of Italian by Thomas North_ ... (1570). During +the reign of Elizabeth an entirely new line of intercourse between +England and the East was established by the voyages of exploration, +discovery, and commerce, characteristic of the Renaissance. Moreover, +since the Fall of Constantinople (1453), the Turks had been an +increasing menace to Europe. Their ascendancy culminated in the reign of +Soliman the Magnificent (1520–1566), and their continual advance upon +Christendom was checked only by their great defeat at the battle of +Lepanto (1571). Throughout the century, as a natural result of these +events and of the voyages referred to above, interest was aroused in +oriental—especially Turkish—history and fiction. In Painter’s _Palace of +Pleasure_, for instance, we find the stories _Mahomet and Irene_, and +_Sultan Solyman_; in the drama such plays as the _Soliman and Perseda_, +usually ascribed to Kyd; _Alaham_, and _Mustapha_, by Fulke Greville, +Lord Brooke; and Marlowe’s _Tamburlaine_. In Shakespeare’s plays, one +incident, _The Induction to the Taming of the Shrew_, has been traced +with a good deal of plausibility to Eastern fiction; otherwise, his +works show no oriental elements of importance. “The farthest steep of +India” as a part of Oberon’s fairy kingdom is possibly drawn from Lord +Berners’s prose version of _Huon of Bordeaux_. That the scene of _Antony +and Cleopatra_ is partly in the East does not make it anything but a +Roman play. + +In the seventeenth century, interest in the Orient was shown by the +works of travelers, historians, translators of French heroic romances, +dramatists, and orientalists. Knolles’s famous _Generall History of the +Turks_ appeared in 1603, a result of the new interest in Turkey +mentioned above, and itself a notable factor in extending that interest +for years to come. Toward the middle of the century the pseudo-oriental +heroic romances of Mlle. de Scudéry and others were translated and won +great popularity. After the Restoration numerous heroic plays on similar +subjects followed in rapid succession. A few of these heroic romances +were reprinted in the eighteenth century and thus form one link between +the fiction of the two periods. Another link is Sir Roger L’Estrange’s +version of _The Fables of Bidpai_.[6] Still another is the Latin +translation by Edward Pococke (1648–1727), son of the Oxford +orientalist, of the Arabian philosophical romance _Hai Ebn Yockdhan_, +which appeared first in English in the eighteenth century. Marana’s +_Turkish Spy_ has already been mentioned as a late seventeenth-century +prelude to the oriental tale of our period. + +Such was the oriental fiction that had entered England previous to 1700, +and had contributed to a more or less vague and general imaginative +acquaintance with the Orient. The sudden advent of the _Arabian Nights_, +full of the life, the colour, and the glamour of the East—even in the +Gallicized version of Antoine Galland—naturally opened a new chapter in +the history of oriental fiction in England. + +The same had been true in France; in fact, the entire English movement +echoed to a certain extent the similar French movement. That, +also,—preluded by _The Turkish Spy_,—was inaugurated by the _Arabian +Nights_, first introduced into Europe by Galland in the famous +translation just referred to. Meeting with instant and great—though not +unanimous—favour, the _Arabian Nights_ was followed at once by the +equally popular translations by Pétis de la Croix, _L’histoire de la +Sultane de Perse et des Vizirs, Contes Turcs_ (1707), and _Les Mille et +un Jour [sic], Contes Persans_ (1710–1712). The time was ripe in France +for this new literary material. At the beginning of the new century +there were especial reasons for the welcome given to oriental stories +and to Perrault’s fairy tales, the chief reason being a natural reaction +from the dominant classicism of Boileau. From Fairy-land and the Far +East two streams began to flow into the main current of French +Romanticism. The romanticists of that day went wild over the fascinating +tales of “merchants, cadis, slaves, and calendars,” in a manner +foreshadowing the nineteenth-century romanticists who enthusiastically +welcomed _Les Orientales_. + +Moreover, interest in the Orient had been growing throughout the +seventeenth century in connection with the colonial and commercial +expansion of France in the reign of Louis XIV. Merchants, Jesuit +missionaries, travelers, and ambassadors had returned with information +and entertaining or tragic stories.[7] Galland and Pétis de la Croix, in +their turn, found an enthusiastic reception.[8] Their collections were +succeeded by a swarm of preposterous imitations, such as those of +Gueullette, pretending also to be translated from oriental manuscripts +and catering to the inordinate popular demand for things oriental. +Fantastic elements from the fairy tales of Perrault and his successors +were mingled with the extravagances of oriental stories, until the +torrent of enthusiasm rapidly spent its force and left several new +channels open to French fiction. Satire on both oriental tales and fairy +stories inevitably appeared, and proved a sharp weapon in the hands of +Hamilton, Caylus, and a score of others. Philosophical satirists like +Montesquieu (_Lettres Persanes_, 1721) found the oriental tale a +convenient medium for scarcely veiled criticism of French society; and +the versatile genius of Voltaire perceived the latent capabilities of +this fiction as a vehicle for philosophy as well as for satire. The +coarseness present in many oriental tales, even in Galland’s expurgated +and Gallicized _Arabian Nights_, undoubtedly afforded to Crébillon +_fils_, and others, a starting point for their numerous _contes +licencieux_, which satirized the extravagance of the fairy stories and +the oriental tales and ridiculed the moralizing tendency as well. The +latter propensity was prominent in France toward the middle of the +century, witness the numerous works of Marmontel, the founder of the +so-called _conte moral_, or tale of manners and morals. Three of his +tales are oriental in setting. Parody and the use of the genre as a +vehicle for satire and didacticism assisted its decline. + +In England the general development of the oriental tale was similar, +partly because of the direct influence of numerous translations from the +French and partly because of the presence of tendencies in England +analogous to those in France. The propensity to moralize and to +philosophize, the love of satire, and the incipient romantic spirit, +were common to both countries, although present—as we shall see—in +varying degrees. In England this fiction falls naturally into four +groups,—imaginative, moralistic, philosophic, and satiric. The +imaginative group, the earliest, and, at the beginning of the century, +the most significant, diminished as the other groups increased in +strength, but revived again near the end of our period in Beckford’s +_Vathek_. The moralistic and philosophic groups are prominent in the +periodical essays from Addison to Dr. Johnson. The philosophic group +comprises besides _Rasselas_ several translations from Voltaire’s +_contes philosophiques_. The satiric group is chiefly exemplified by the +pseudo-letters culminating, in English, in Goldsmith’s _Citizen of the +World_, and by Count Hamilton’s entertaining parodies. One work, indeed, +belonging in the imaginative group, was influential throughout the whole +period: the _Arabian Nights_—as numerous editions testify—was a +permanent factor in the development of the oriental tale in England. + +Chapters I., II., III., and IV. of this volume will be devoted to a +description of the most important characteristics of these successive +groups, and the final chapter will present a literary estimate of the +genre as a whole. + + + + + THE ORIENTAL TALE IN ENGLAND + + + + + CHAPTER I + THE IMAGINATIVE GROUP + + +Of all the wide lands open to the wandering imagination none has a more +perennial charm than the mysterious East. To that magical country the +_Arabian Nights_, ever since its first appearance in English in the +early years of the eighteenth century, has proved a favourite gateway, +over which might well be inscribed:— + + “Be glad, thou reder, and thy sorwe of-caste, + Al open am I; passe in, and by the faste!” + +With the exception of the Hebrew Scriptures, the Orient has given us no +book that has become so intimate a part of our imaginative inheritance. +“Aladdin’s lamp,” the “Open Sesame,” “changing old lamps for new,” “the +Old Man of the Sea,” have entered into familiar household speech. Many a +reader has echoed the mood of Hawthorne, “To Persia and Arabia and all +the gorgeous East I owed a pilgrimage for the sake of their magic +tales.”[9] + +It would be superfluous to describe this familiar book in detail. That +ground has been well covered by such translators and essayists as Sir +Richard Burton and Mr. John Payne. Our purpose is rather to examine +briefly the general character of the _Arabian Nights_[10] in order to +understand the significance of its sudden entrance into the England of +Queen Anne. The earliest collection of oriental tales to appear in +English in the century, it is also the richest in pure imaginative power +and therefore has a twofold right to first consideration in this +chapter. + +One of the chief elements of charm in the _Arabian Nights_ has already +been suggested—the sense of mystery and magic. The arrangement of the +stories enhances this impression. At first glance the form seems simple. +The frame-tale, that well-known device believed to be of oriental +origin, is the story of the beautiful Scheherezade telling tales to the +cruel sultan for a thousand and one nights. But within this simple +setting the stories are so interwoven and so varied—apologues, romances, +anecdotes, and fables—that the total effect is as intricate as the +design of an oriental carpet. One strange story follows another in +bewildering profusion until the reader seems to be walking in a dream +“in the days of Haroun Alraschid,” when the unexpected always happens. +In this land of wonder and enchantment any threatening cloud may assume +the form of an enormous genie, white-bearded, terrific, with torch in +hand and a voice like thunder, “a Slave of the Lamp,” ready to carry a +sleeping prince a thousand leagues through the air or to erect over +night a palace of dazzling splendour; any serpent may be an enchanted +fairy; any beautiful woman may be a disguised princess or a cruel +sorceress with power to transform human beings into dogs or black +stones; and at every turn one may meet African magicians who can +pronounce the “Open Sesame” to subterranean treasure-caves. In the +bazaars fairies disguised as old women sell magic carpets to fortunate +princes; by the wayside an aged dervish sits for the sole purpose of +directing seekers toward the talking bird, the singing tree, and the +yellow water. “The wondrous horse of brass” is no more marvelous than +the roc, “a white bird of monstrous size and of such strength that it +takes elephants from the plains to the tops of the mountains.” In the +world of the _Arabian Nights_ is to be found the magic mirror that +reveals character by remaining unsullied only in the presence of the +pure in heart. On the sea furious storms arise and drive ships to sure +disaster against the black mountain of adamant. Shipwrecked Sindbad +meets strange dwarfs; “tremendous black giants, one-eyed and as high as +a tall palm-tree”; and, most dangerous of all, the terrible Old Man of +the Sea. Shark-headed monsters and beautiful mermaids arise from the +deep; and, if one could only look down far enough, one would see in the +ocean depths vast kingdoms of boundless wealth and unutterable beauty, +ruled over by the flamebreathing princes of the sea. In these enchanted +domains it is not surprising to find superlatively horrible monsters +“with the head of an elephant and the body of a tiger”; or to encounter +blinding flashes of lightning, “followed by most tremendous thunder, ... +hideous darkness, ... a dreadful cry, ... and an earthquake such as +Asrayel is to cause on the day of judgment.” The same naïve love of +magical unreality that adorns these stories with such transcendent +horrors produces the scenes of “surpassing beauty,” which have made the +splendour of the _Arabian Nights_ proverbial.[11] Aladdin’s magnificent +palace—jeweled windows and all—is eclipsed by the palace of the third +Calendar, “more splendid than imagination can conceive.” + +And yet, despite all this misty atmosphere of wonder and magic, there is +in the _Arabian Nights_ a strange sense of reality in the midst of +unreality, a verisimilitude which accounts in large part for the steady +popularity the book has enjoyed with the English people. The cities of +Bagdad and Cairo, the countries of the East, the Seven Seas, are real +places, though so far-away that they seem on the borders of fairy-land. +Time as well as space is an actuality, however remote and vague. +Plausible introductory phrases imitate the manner of a veracious +historian, _e.g._, “There was a Sultan named Mirza who had peaceably +filled the throne of India many years.” It is easy for the reader to +imagine himself present at the scenes described, _e.g._, the opening of +the divan of the mock caliph in the _Sleeper Awakened_, when “the grand +vizier Giafar and the judge of the police ... first bowed themselves +down before him and paid him the salutations of the morning.” In the +bezesteins silk merchants, glass dealers, and jewelers sit by their +wares and fall in love with veiled ladies; venders of roses, dervishes, +and beggars crowd past; and dogs who may be enchanted princes tell false +coin from true to the delight of the lookers-on. At the water-gate of +the palace on the Tigris, the favourite slave of the sultaness Zobeide +outwits the crabbed old eunuch and secures safe admission for the trunk +containing her lover. Prince Houssain tells us travelers’ tales of the +brazen temple in which “the principal idol was ... of massive gold; its +eyes were rubies, so artificially set, that it seemed to look at the +spectator in whatever direction he stood.” When the king of Serendib +appears in public, he has a throne fixed on the back of an elephant and +is surrounded by attendants clad in silk and cloth of gold; “and the +officer before him cries out occasionally, ‘Behold ... the potent and +redoubtable sultan of the Indies, whose palace is covered with an +hundred thousand rubies, ... greater than the greatest of princes!’ +After which the officer who is behind cries out, ‘This monarch, so +great, so powerful, must die, must die, must die.’ The officer who is +before replies, ‘Praise be to him who liveth forever.’”[12] + +Other customs are described in equally vivid detail. The obsequies of a +prince include long processions of lamenting guards, anchorites, and +maidens; marriage ceremonies are accompanied by feasting, music, +dancing, and the bride’s seven-fold salutation of her husband. “The pure +religion of our holy prophet” is contrasted with the cruel rites of +fire-worshipers. Devout Mussulmans pass through the streets to the +mosques and make pilgrimages to Mecca. + +But of all the glimpses of Eastern life the most interesting is the +constantly recurring picture of the oriental story-teller. Everywhere—in +the bazaars, by the wayside, in palace gardens or fishermen’s cottages, +during the feasts or before the caliph’s tribunal, by night and by +day—the teller of tales is sure of an interested audience. The variety +of stories in the _Arabian Nights_ makes credible the theory of recent +editors, that the ultimate sources were equally diverse,—an hypothesis +that goes far toward explaining the artistic excellences and limitations +of the collection. + +What wonder that, with listeners clamouring like children for another +story, each narrator exerted his ingenuity to outdo his predecessors +and, like Scheherezade herself, promised greater marvels next time? In +most of the tales one surprising adventure succeeds another with +kaleidoscopic rapidity, unconnected except by the mere presence of the +hero. In that respect these tales resemble the modern historical +romance. The chief appeal is to the listener’s or reader’s curiosity, +and little thought is given to the structural unity of the narrative. +There is a succession of events, but rarely any causal sequence. Even in +so capital a story as _Aladdin_ the two elements of the climax—Aladdin’s +marriage and the magician’s resolve upon vengeance—are loosely knit by +chance and by magic. The close of the average story is usually as +movable a point as the climax. If the narrator thinks of another +incident, he merely adds a postscript. Witness the _Story of the +Barber’s Sixth Brother_, in which the misfortunes of Shacabac after the +Barmecide’s death are foisted upon the admirably dramatic tale of the +Barmecide’s feast. + +But, though the majority of the tales possess little structural unity, +many individual incidents are perfect dramatic sketches, cleverly +introduced, wrought to a climax, developed to a dénouement, and +characterized by compression and rapid movement no less than by +brilliant descriptive phrases and good dialogue. Such are the disastrous +day-dream of Alnaschar the glass merchant, the adventure of the barber’s +blind brother, and the ruse of Abon Hassan and his wife to win gifts +from the caliph and Zobeide by feigning death.[13] The dénouement of the +last will readily be recalled. The perplexed caliph offered a thousand +pieces of gold to any one who could prove which of the two, Abon Hassan +or his wife, died first. “Instantly a hand was held out, and a voice +from under Abon Hassan’s pall was heard to say, ‘I died first, Commander +of the Faithful, give me the thousand pieces of gold.’” This dramatic +instinct for situation or incident is especially noticeable in the +numerous clever introductions. The favourite device of the disguised +caliph Haroun wandering through the city in search of adventure never +fails to awaken interest. Mysterious scenes of grief or sudden +exclamations stimulate curiosity at once. “‘For God’s sake, sir,’ +replied the stranger, ‘let me go! I cannot without horror look upon that +abominable barber!’” + +Beyond incident and situation, however, the dramatic instinct of the +story-teller does not go. He shows little psychological insight. His +characters are wooden automata, picturesque truly, but neither +individualized nor alive. Various figures recur repeatedly: the prodigal +youth, forsaken by his fair-weather friends; the tyrant sultan; the +clever man; the superlative hero; the unjust judge; good and bad +viziers; and good and bad sons. They might be shifted from one story to +another with no more shock than Aladdin’s palace felt when lifted and +set down again. The _Arabian Nights_ contains, fortunately, little or no +direct moralizing, but in these abstract types it offered suggestions +not lost upon the eighteenth-century writers of moralistic oriental +tales. Even familiar figures like Aladdin and Sindbad owe their +existence as individuals to the reader’s sympathetic imagination. They +are interesting, not in themselves, but on account of their marvelous +adventures. + +For, after all, one supreme attraction of the _Arabian Nights_ is the +charm of pure adventure, the story for the sake of the story. +Sentimental tales are exceptional; in only eight is love the chief +interest. Adventurous tales of the _Sindbad_ type are more +characteristic. It is noticeable that in many of the stories where +picaresque or farcical realism is strong, magic plays no part. But in +all the tales, whether magical or realistic, the emphasis is thrown on +events. Exciting incidents are given verisimilitude by picturesque +details, until the reader, forgetting for the moment the absence of the +deeper realities of character, comes under the spell of pure romance,—as +in the case of _Robinson Crusoe_, the novels of Dumas, or the +folk-ballads,—and must himself “mitdichten.” The magical atmosphere, the +rich variety of dramatic incident, the spirit of adventure, and the +brilliant background, atone in part for the lack, in the _Arabian +Nights_, of structural unity and characterization. Across the scene +moves the seemingly endless, ever shifting pageant of _dramatis +personæ_, all sorts and conditions of men: princes and viziers, +ropemakers and fishermen, dervishes and cadis, sheiks and slaves, queens +and beggar-women. One can see them, hear them speak, and guess at their +characters as one might in observing passers-by in the bazaars of some +strange Eastern city. For the time being it is easy to follow Ali Baba +to the forest to gather wood; or to share the fright of the fisherman +who liberates the genie; or to hear the tired porter Hindbad railing at +Fortune as he rests in the cool street sprinkled with rose-water, while +the white-bearded, travel-wise Sindbad listens from his palace window +and summons the poor man in; or to feel the human interest in the +dramatic scene that serves as the general background—Scheherezade saving +the lives of her countrywomen by telling her tales to the sultan. + +The collection of oriental tales next in order of importance is the +_Persian Tales_ or the _Thousand and One Days_[14] (1714), the +companion-piece to the _Arabian Nights_. The plan is similar: a +frame-tale which introduces and concludes the collection and links the +successive stories. But in the _Persian Tales_, instead of a sultan who +has lost faith in women, the central figure is the princess of Casmire, +who, having dreamed that she saw an ungrateful stag forsaking a hind, +has lost faith in men and has decided never to marry. Her beauty drives +men mad; the king, her father, is in despair; and her old nurse, +Sutlememé, undertakes to convert her by tales of faithful lovers. For a +thousand and one days the tales are told, but each hero is criticized by +the skeptical and obdurate princess. She is finally persuaded to marry +the prince of Persia only by the magic powers and religious authority of +a holy dervish. The conclusion of the frame-tale is unnecessarily +complicated by the introduction of the witch Mehrefsa, a Persian Circe. +There is at the close an attempt to recall the introduction by the story +of the prince’s dream that the princess, “fairer than a houri,” appeared +to him in a flowery meadow and told him of her dream and consequent loss +of faith in mankind. But this incident gives only a superficial unity to +the frame-tale; structural unity is lacking. The same criticism holds +true of the majority of individual stories in the _Persian Tales_. +Considerable unity of feeling, however, is given to the collection by +the fact that Sutlememé’s avowed purpose holds her chiefly to one +theme,—true love,—which often rises above the sensuous or the +ridiculously sentimental and throws a pleasant light over the stories as +a whole. + +This characteristic differentiates the _Persian Tales_ at once from the +_Arabian Nights_. For instance, a typical story in the _Persian Tales_ +begins as follows: the hero, Couloufe, a youth of noble birth, having +wasted his substance, wanders to a far-off city. A mysterious slave in +the bazaar beckons him. He follows into a palace; enters one hall after +another, each more glorious than the last; and beholds pillars of “massy +gold,” silver trees with emeralds for leaves, singing birds behind +golden lattices, fragrant roses growing around marble basins of crystal +water, banquets on sandalwood tables, little pages offering wine in cups +made of single rubies; and, finally, the princess arrayed in +“rose-coloured taffeta, thick-sown with pearls,” seated on a golden +throne, surrounded by “radiant damsels” singing to the lute or dulcimer, +“Love but once, but love forever.” “Couloufe imagined that he saw the +moon surrounded by the stars, and fainted, quite overpowered with the +sight of this ravishing object.” To faint seems, in fact, the customary +mode of showing affection. In another tale, the heroine on the slightest +provocation melts into “floods of tears” and the hero is not far behind +with his tears and swoons. Reproached by his mistress, he says, “It +struck me to my very soul, and in the height of my grief ... I fell into +a fit and swooned away at the foot of the throne.” Violent agitation, “a +languishing air,” transports of passion or of wrath, remorse which +causes death, call to mind the eighteenth-century novel of sentiment. + +More sentimental than the _Arabian Nights_, the _Persian Tales_ is also +more fantastic. The talking bird of the prophet Isaac, which came to aid +Aboulfouaris on the desert island, had a blue head, red eyes, yellow +wings, and a green body. We are not surprised when the hero says, “I had +never seen one like it.” This remarkable bird is, however, eclipsed in +the same story by an ugly Afrite with a nose like an elephant’s trunk +and with one eye blood-red, the other blue, who led Aboulfouaris past +roaring lions, huge dragons, and fierce griffins. The Afrite and the +griffins themselves seem commonplace beside the prophet Elias, who is +pictured as a cavalier wearing a green turban set with rubies and riding +a rose-coloured horse under whose feet the earth immediately produces +flowers. In describing scenes of beauty or of horror the _Persian Tales_ +is far more lavish than the _Arabian Nights_. The princess Tourandocte, +asking riddles of Prince Calaf, “not satisfied with putting this +question to him, ... maliciously threw off her veil, to dazzle and +confound him with the luster of her beauty. Her despite and shame [at +his having guessed her other riddles] had given her a blush which added +new charms, ... her head was adorned with ... flowers; ... and her eyes +shone brighter than the stars, brighter than the sun when he shines in +his full glory at the opening of the black cloud. The amorous son of +Timurtasch, at the sight of this incomparable princess ... stood mute.” +Scenes of horror are equally marvelous. The Persian Old Man of the Sea, +for instance, is a huge monster with tiger’s eyes and an impenetrable +skin, who meets his death only by battling with “the greatest roc that +was ever seen.” + +Like the _Arabian Nights_, the _Thousand and One Days_ carries us to a +land of magic and enchantment. There we find the magic mountain of +polished steel which draws all ships to it with fatal power; the ring +with Solomon’s seal; and the magic chest that transports its occupant +through the air when guided by pressure of certain springs, like the +horse of brass. There are bad genii, black and lean with sparkling eyes +and horns; and there are good spirits, clothed in white like “religious +Sophis.” There are magicians like the witch Bedra, who sits in a dismal +cavern with a great book open upon her knees, in which she reads before +a furnace of gold, wherein there is a pot of silver, full of black earth +that boils without fire. Caverns of treasure contain kings and +princesses in magic sleep. One amusing variation from the ordinary +treasure-cave is the cavern of books. Avicena, the sage, says: “Towards +the Caspian Sea there is a mountain which is called the Red Mountain, +because it is covered with roses throughout the year.” At the foot is a +cavern of vast extent, the doors of which by virtue of a talisman open +once a year of their own accord and shut again in half an hour and +fifteen minutes, and if “any bookish man, too intent upon his choice of +authors,” stay, he is sure to be starved to death. “The wise Chec +Chehabeddin” gathered there twenty thousand books, which treat of the +philosopher’s stone, of the method of discovering hidden treasure, of +changing men into beasts, and of giving souls to vegetables: “all the +secrets of nature.”[15] Apparently this remarkable library was carefully +catalogued and efficiently watched by genii, who seized all persons that +neglected to return books and “tormented them cruelly, ... even to +death.”[16] + +One of the greatest charms of the _Persian Tales_, as of its +better-known rival, lies in the mingling of reality and unreality. +Genuine glimpses of oriental customs and beliefs alternate with strange +adventures. The scenes are laid in real places, but the Eastern names +have a magic all their own. We see Aboulfouaris, “the Great Voyager,” +sailing down the Gulf of Basra, between Persia and Araby the Blest, +toward Ormus and the kingdom of Indes. It is easy for the fancy to fly +as on a magic carpet from the vale of Cashmere, from Carisme and +Candahar to Golconda and Samarcande; or to sail past China to the Isle +of Cheristany till our ship drives “to the Strait of the Moluccas, south +of the Philippines into seas unknown to our mariners.” + +Strange customs are described with a lavish and yet plausible use of +detail. The throne of the king of China was “made of Catai steel in the +form of a dragon, about three cubits high; over it was a canopy of +yellow satin adorned with diamonds supported by four lofty pillars of +the same Catai steel.” The king, when disposed “to take the diversion of +fowling, ... was clothed in a straight caffetan, and his beard was tied +up in a black bag.” Grief of the Chinese courtiers for their king’s +death was expressed by dyeing their faces yellow and strewing rose +leaves before the throne. In the story of Aboulfouaris’s first voyage +occurs an elaborate description of the suttee—the funeral pyre, the +ablutions, the gorgeous apparel, and the voluntary suicide of the widow. + +Other customs described are masquerades, visits, and feasts. On one +festival night fireworks were set off, sherbets and sweetmeats were +offered to every one, dancing to the tambours and deffs took place in +the square, and “Calenders ran to and fro in the street like men +transported with frenzy.” “The shops in all the great streets and +squares were hung with tapestry ... illuminated with sashes that +contained some verse out of the Alcoran; ... the sacred book might be +read entire as you walked the streets. It seemed as if the Angel Gabriel +had brought it down to our great prophet a second time in characters of +light.” The most binding oath is, “I swear by the black stone of the +sacred temple of Mecca and by the holy grove of Medina, where the tomb +of our prophet lies.” “There is no other God but one, and Mahomet is his +prophet.” Belief in the divine pen of fire that writes on a tablet of +light is referred to in the story of _Couloufe_. “I know not whether God +wills that I die or live for you, but at least I know well that it will +never be written in heaven that I shall repudiate you.” There are +several curious references to Eastern philosophies, _e.g._, the captive +princess who has just stabbed herself says: “[I learned in infancy] the +doctrine of Xaca, and you need not then wonder I had the courage to do +this. I am returning to my original nothing.” The king replies, “May +you ... after having passed through the nine hells, be born again +daughter of another sovereign as at the first transmigration.” In the +tale of _Fadlallah and Zemroude_ the idea of transmigration is +prominent. + +Scattered through the _Persian Tales_ are incidents and phrases +suggesting familiar European stories. It is interesting to note the +resemblances, but impossible to say whether the original source was +oriental or European.[17] For instance, this version of the _Ballad of +the Heir of Linne_ occurs. Atalmulc, the spendthrift son of a rich +jeweler, had been told by his dying father that after he had wasted all +his patrimony, he should tie a rope to the branch of a certain tree in +the garden and “prevent the miseries of poverty.” Atalmulc, thinking his +father had suggested suicide, endeavoured to hang himself. The branch +broke, disclosing the careful father’s hoard of jewels. In the story of +_King Ruzvanchad_ the king marries the princess of the genii with the +promise never to reprove her, but to say, “She is a genie and has +special reasons for her actions.” He breaks his promise, after great +provocation; and she vanishes, to return after ten years to reward his +constancy. There is a resemblance here to the story of _Undine_. Both +tales, like _Lohengrin_ and _Cupid and Psyche_, are variants on the +world-wide theme: Lack of faith means loss of love. Other incidents in +_Ruzvanchad_ might find parallels in Celtic, or Teutonic, or Greek +legends. The king meets a white doe, “beautifully sprinkled with blue +and black spots; with rings of gold upon her feet; and upon her back a +yellow satin, bordered round with embroidery of silver.” She disappears +into a fountain; the king, thinking her a nymph in disguise, falls +asleep to be awakened by “a ravishing symphony” coming from “a very +magnificent palace all illuminated,” which has been raised by superhuman +power. Later he finds a melancholy lady in torn garments, who says: “I +am the daughter and the wife of a king, and yet not what I say. I am a +princess, and yet not what I am.” Her misfortunes prove to be due to the +machinations of a witch who, Duessa-like, has assumed her form and won +away her husband. In the _History of Two Brothers, Genies_ [_sic_], +_Adis and Dahy_, a tale in some respects coarse and repulsive, there is +a curious description of an island where ideas of beauty are topsyturvy; +the wrinkles and decrepitude of old age are adored and the loveliness of +youth despised—characteristics recalling the Topsyturvy land of European +story. In the same tale the costume of the islanders seems borrowed from +the _san benito_. They wore “long robes of cotton on which were painted +several figures of demons in red, green, and yellow, with flames and +other odd conceits.” In _The History of Malek and the Princess +Schirine_, Malek, by flying in a magic chest, gains entrance to the +apartment of the princess and persuades her and her father that he is +the prophet Mahomet and her destined husband. There are touches of +humour here, a rare quality in these tales. “I had eat up all my +provisions and spent all my money. The prophet Mahomet was reduced to as +low a state of want as ever man was that had asked alms.” Throughout the +tale there is a spirit of mockery, of practical joking, not unlike that +of a Spanish story. One cannot help surmising that Le Sage’s +collaboration with Pétis de la Croix went further than strictly +editorial work. In fact, in view of the resemblances to European legend +noted above, it is most probable that Pétis de la Croix himself, taking +advantage of the wave of enthusiasm recently aroused by Galland’s _Mille +et une Nuit_,[18] treated his oriental manuscripts far more freely even +than Galland, added decorative incidents from European sources, and +invented the title _Mille et un Jour_.[19] in direct imitation of +Galland’s title. + +In general the _Persian Tales_ resembles the _Arabian Nights_ in the +mingling of magic and reality, of strange enchantments and oriental +customs almost as strange; in dramatic presentation of picturesque +incident and background; in lack of characterization and, with few +exceptions, of structural unity. But the _Persian Tales_ is far more +sentimental, more fantastic, more brilliant in colour. Here the reader +is in a fairy-land of charming or grotesque surprises, while in the +_Arabian Nights_, despite the misty clouds of enchantment, there is +substantial ground under foot. May not this be one reason why the +_Arabian Nights_ has always been a greater favourite in England than the +_Persian Tales_; and why, in France, the popularity of the _Persian +Tales_ has equaled, if not surpassed, that of the _Arabian Nights_? + +The _Turkish Tales_, the third important collection, was translated from +French into English in 1708, and appeared also in a version called _The +Persian and the Turkish Tales Compleat [sic]_ (1714).[20] It is a +version of the old oriental story of _Sendebar_, best known to English +students in the Middle English form, _The Seven Sages of Rome_. The +frame-tale in this version is briefly as follows: Queen Canzade’s evil +passion for her stepson turns to hatred upon his rejection of her love +and her scheme to murder the king. The prince is bound to forty days’ +silence for fear of a mysterious calamity predicted by his tutor. The +latter, meanwhile, to avoid questions retires discreetly into a cave. +Canzade persuades the king to decree the prince’s death; the forty +viziers successively plead for him by stories of wicked women and loyal +sons; the queen endeavours to win her way by tales of evil viziers and +murderous princes; until finally the tutor is unearthed, the prince +justified, and the queen condemned in his stead. The Tales are +appropriately called by the Turks “Malice of Women,” for the queen’s +stories reveal her malice and the vizier’s tales defend the prince more +by attacking women in general, and the queen in particular, than by +praising him. + +In this satirical spirit the _Turkish Tales_ affords a marked contrast +to the _Persian Tales_. The two collections are similar in use of magic +and of oriental customs, lack of structural unity, absence of +characterization, and emphasis on the story for the story’s sake. The +_Turkish Tales_ differs in that it contains no elaborate descriptions. +This absence of stage-setting, as it were, focuses attention on the plot +and throws the characters into bolder relief. A few of the tales, as a +result, are admirable narratives. The best is the most famous of the +collection, _The Santon Barsisa_, quoted by Steele in the _Guardian_, +No. 148, and in that form suggesting to Lewis—according to his own +statement—the idea of _The Monk_.[21] The story here is brief and crude, +but swift in movement and powerful in a way not unlike early versions of +the Faust saga. The dialogues between the devil and the saint are +thoroughly dramatic; no mention has been made of the devil at all, and +the reader is as utterly unprepared for his sudden stage-entrance as is +the saint himself. An evil idea arises in the santon’s mind and, quick +as thought, “the devil, taking this opportunity, whispered in his ear +thus: ‘O santon, do not let slip such a fortunate minute.’” The santon +yields, commits one crime after another, is detected, and condemned to +be hanged. On the scaffold he hears a whisper in his ear: “‘O santon, if +you will worship me, I will extricate you out of this difficulty and +transport you two thousand leagues from here, into a country where you +shall be reverenced by men as much as you were before this +adventure.’—‘I am content,’ says Barsisa; ‘deliver me and I will worship +thee.’ ‘Give me first a sign of adoration,’ replies the devil; whereupon +the santon bowed his head and said, ‘I give myself to you.’ The devil, +then raising his voice, said, ‘O Barsisa, I am satisfied; I have +obtained what I desired’; and with these words, spitting in his face, he +disappeared, and the wretched santon was hanged.” + +Of the other tales, six deserve mention. Two were quoted in the +_Spectator_: _Chec Chehabeddin and the Sultan of Egypt_ in No. 94; _The +Fable of the Sultan Mahmoud and the Two Owls_ in No. 512. The third, the +story of the _King of Aad_,[22] has an interesting resemblance to an +incident in _Gulliver’s Travels_. The fourth and fifth are +characteristic of the collection, _The History of the Brahman and the +Young Fiquay_, a Turkish version of the Aladdin story, and the oriental +apologue of _King Togrul-Bey_. The sixth, _The History of the Prince of +Carizme and the Princess of Georgia_, may be noted as exceptionally +fantastic, and as containing the song attributed to John Hughes:— + + “Eternal are the chains which here + The generous souls of lovers bind,” etc.[23] + +After the _Arabian Nights_, the _Persian Tales_, and the _Turkish +Tales_, the best imaginative oriental tales are the English versions of +the so-called pseudo-translations. The first to appear in English was +_The Travels and Adventures of the Three Princes of Serendip_[24] ... +(1722) from the French of De Mailli [or Mailly], whose version was in +turn from the Italian _Peregrinaggio_ ... by Armeno (1557).[25] The +events of the story, in De Mailli’s rendering, are said to have occurred +“in the happy time when kings were philosophers and sent each other +important problems to solve,”—a sentiment lacking in the Italian, and +characteristic of a French eighteenth-century version. The frame-tale +recounts the travels of three “equally beautiful and gifted” princes, +who seek culture and win success in various enterprises. In the Emperor +Behram’s country, their first adventure is the one probably imitated by +Voltaire in _Zadig_. They tell a camel driver that his lost camel is +blind, lame, and laden with honey, butter, etc., but that they have not +seen him. When accused of theft, they inform the judge that their close +observation of the camel’s footprints, the cropped herbage, etc., has +led them to infer the truth. Another achievement is their recovery of +the Emperor’s lost mirror of justice, which has the extraordinary +property of detecting false accusations. If a slanderer look into the +mirror, his face turns black and can be restored only by public +confession and penance. Many of the stories are apparently based on +Italian _novelle_ of shepherdesses, Venetian ladies, clever goldsmiths, +and other similar characters, and are unoriental. There is one story of +metempsychosis, however, similar to the oriental tale, _Fadlallah and +Zemroude_, in the _Persian Tales_. But “the general plan of the +_Peregrinaggio_ is more inflexible and homogeneous than is usual in +oriental tales.”[26] The English version stands by itself in being +perhaps the only pseudo-translation which came by way of +eighteenth-century France from sixteenth-century Italy. + +One of the most facile and prolific of French writers of +pseudo-translations was Thomas Simon Gueullette (1683–1766). Four of his +collections were translated into English under the names: _Chinese +Tales, or the Wonderful Adventures of the Mandarin Fum-Hoam_ ... (1725); +_Mogul Tales, or the Dreams of Men Awake: being Stories Told to Divert +the Sultanas of Guzarat, for the Supposed Death of the Sultan_ (1736); +_Tartarian Tales; or, a Thousand and One Quarters of Hours_ (1759); and +_Peruvian Tales Related in One Thousand and One Hours by One of the +Select Virgins of Cuzco, to the Inca of Peru_ ... (1764, Fourth (?) +Edition).[27] The last named is a worthless collection, oriental or +rather pseudo-oriental in everything except _locale_ and interesting +only as an example of the ultra-fantastic, degenerate oriental tale. One +bit of unconscious humour rewards the reader; the author gives local +colour to the terrors of Peru by mentioning “muskettas, reptiles, and +other insects.” + +Of the three other collections, the _Chinese Tales_ may serve as the +type. The frame-tale is as follows: The sultan of China in disguise wins +the love of the princess Gulchenraz, kills the usurper of her kingdom, +tests her love by the suit of a mock-sultan, and is accepted by her on +condition that her Mahometan faith be unmolested. She agrees to listen +to the Mandarin Fum-Hoam, who tells her tales to convert her to belief +in transmigration; and the sultan promises that, if she remain +unconverted, he will become a Mahometan. Fum-Hoam tells many tales, and +at the end reveals himself as her lost brother, who is wise as Solomon, +and who has brought to pass all the events of the story. He then +transports them to his kingdom, Georgia, and admits that there is no +truth in the transmigration theory, and that he has told his tales +solely to make the sultan keep his promise of embracing Mahometanism. +The frame-tale closes with the implication that they all lived happily +ever after. The oriental colouring is very slight. Transmigration is +mentioned only to be ridiculed. Reference is made to the suttee, to +pilgrimages to Mecca, and to the fast of Ramadan according to the Koran. +Descriptions of emotion are absurd; one hero dies of grief, with +lamentations “like the roarings of a lion.” The narratives are often +grotesque, _e.g._ the journey to the Country of Souls,[28] where the +soul can be put into a bag to be brought back to the land of the living +and reëmbodied by placing the bag at the mouth of the corpse. The +author’s fancy runs riot as to the successive transmigrations of +Fum-Hoam, who assumes in tedious succession numerous forms, such as +those of a dog, a maid, a flea, and a bat. There is surprisingly little +satire, considering the opportunities for observing mankind possible to +the ubiquitous Fum-Hoam. In the use of magic, the _Chinese Tales_ +follows conventional lines—the elixir of life or water of youth, the +secret of transmuting metals to gold, the mysterious words of Solomon +which command the genii; cabalistic prayers, which reveal black marble +staircases leading to subterranean treasure-caves; and incantations in +the manner of Theocritus. Many other incidents imply a knowledge of +European legend and literature. One story tells of Grecian shepherds; +another of Kolao, the wild man, and his Robinson Crusoe life; another +recalls Pandora; another, the fairy tale of brothers rewarded for +helping fairies in the form of animals. One incident might easily be a +masque of Neptune—a venerable man rising from the sea in a chariot of +mother-of-pearl, drawn by sea-horses, and accompanied by mermaids. The +adventure of the prince in the haunted tower of the forty virgins serves +as sequel to a story similar to the _Pied Piper of Hamelin_. A dwarf +agreed for a certain sum to free the city of Ispahan from rats by +playing on tabor and pipe. When the people refused payment, they were +threatened with dire punishments by the dwarf’s mother, “a genie in the +shape of an old black woman above fifty feet high ... with a whip in her +hand,” unless they brought at once forty of their most beautiful +daughters. To the sound of the genie’s leather trumpet, “these unhappy +victims of their father’s perfidy” were led to the tower and seen no +more until rescued by the prince. The _Chinese Tales_ contains less +moralizing than the other pseudo-translations. There is one reference to +the happiness of a tranquil life away from court, from lawsuits, and +from women; one moral drawn as to the ill results of educating women: “I +am, from my own experience, fully satisfied that the care to govern her +family should be the only employ of a virtuous wife; and that it is next +to a miracle, if pride, or some other more dangerous passion, make not a +woman neglect her duty, when she once comes to apply herself to the +study of learning, and affects to surpass the rest of her sex.” We find, +also, the poetical fancy common in Persian literature that even the +palace of the king is but an inn, for its successive inhabitants are but +travelers upon earth toward the same common end,—death;[29] and the +equally familiar figure in which life is compared to a game of chess. +“Some act the kings, the queens, the knights, the fools, and simple +pawns. There is a vast difference between them, while they are in +motion; but when once the game is over, and the chess-board shut, they +are all thrown promiscuously together into the same box, without any +sort of distinction—all then become equal; and there is nothing but our +good works and charity towards our neighbours, that will give us the +superiority.” + +Gueullette’s two other collections, the _Mogul Tales_ and the _Tartarian +Tales_, are similar in plan and treatment. Extravagant in the use of +magic, fantastic in description and incident, employing European legends +freely and oriental colouring very slightly, sometimes moralizing, +sometimes coarse, seldom satirical, imitating the faults rather than the +excellences of genuine oriental translations, these narratives are +frequently entertaining, but possess little intrinsic value. + +One special point of interest in the _Mogul Tales_ must not be +omitted,—the incident of the sinners with flaming hearts,—since this was +probably the source of the parallel passage in Beckford’s _Vathek_. It +is worth remark as external evidence that the _Mogul Tales_ is in the +catalogue of Beckford’s library. The points of similarity and the +superiority of _Vathek_ are obvious, if the quotations from _Vathek_, +pp. 62–65 of this chapter, are compared with the following extract from +the _Mogul Tales_ (Weber’s _Tales of the East_, Edinburgh, 1812, Vol. +III., p. 58 _et seq._). Aboul-Assam tells how he saw “a flambeau ... +carried by a little man ... entering a subterranean passage.... We went +down together ... into the mountain; at last we traversed a long alley +of black marble; but so finely polished, that it had the appearance of a +looking-glass; ... we reached a large hall, where we found three men +standing mute, and in postures of sorrow. They were looking earnestly on +a triangular table, whereon lay a book, with clasps of gold; on its back +was this inscription: ‘Let no man touch this divine treatise that is not +perfectly pure’ ... I wish, said I ... that this peace may continue +always among you. Peace is banished from these sad places, replied the +eldest of the three, with an air of sternness.... We wait, said the +second, in this sepulcher, for the just judgment of God.—You are then, +continued I, great sinners.—Alas! cried the third, we are continually +tortured for our evil actions ... they unbuttoned their waistcoats, and +through their skin, which appeared like crystal, I saw their hearts +compassed with fire, by which, though burnt without ceasing, yet [they +were] ... never consumed; I then was at no loss for the reason of their +looking so ghastly and affrighted.” Aboul-Assam is then shown paintings +representing their crimes, rebukes them in horror, is in turn rebuked by +a picture of his own past sins, and condemned to blindness for seven +years. Vathek is also punished, but the genius of Beckford chooses a +more dramatic and awful penalty. + +In connection with _Vathek_, the _Adventures of Abdalla, Son of +Hanif_ ... by Jean Paul Bignon, translated into English by William +Hatchett (1729),[30] is of even greater interest than the _Mogul Tales_. +It is similar in general character to its predecessors. The frame-tale, +which recounts Abdalla’s search for the fountain of youth, includes all +his adventures and the past history of all the people he meets, and is +so bewilderingly entangled that the _Arabian Nights_, by contrast, seems +simplicity itself. The tales are more or less interesting stories[31] of +adventure and love, and are melodramatic, humorous, moralizing, and +satirical. Magic abounds, European legends and previous oriental tales +are freely utilized, and great stress is laid upon the “horrid,” the +grotesque, the fantastic. Given these characteristics, it is easy to see +how _Abdalla_ appealed to the author of _Vathek_. That it did make a +strong appeal is shown by Beckford’s numerous borrowings. In every +instance he improved upon his original. The author of _Abdalla_ +describes rest in a delightful country place surrounded by “flowers of +remarkable beauty,” “birds of every colour,” and “very fine trees.” +Beckford’s similar description gives concrete images—fountains, roses, +jessamines, violets, nightingales, doves, orange trees, palms, and +pomegranates. Dilsenguin, the hero in _Abdalla_, “precipitated himself +into a subterranean apartment,” seeking “detestable volumes” of magic. +The phantoms seized Dilsenguin by the feet and threw him into the well, +head foremost. When he reached the hall of Eblis, he found it an immense +temple of black and white marble. At the keystone of one of the arches +he saw “a globe of fire, which, sometimes obscure and sometimes +brilliant, filled the temple with unsteady flashes of light.” The globe +opened and there descended from it a huge old man in a yellow robe, +holding a scepter of gold. He “seated himself upon the throne. It was +the formidable Eblis.... His looks were horrid, his beard and hair +bristled.... [He had] a hole in the place of a nose,” etc. When +Dilsenguin thanked him for his magic books, Eblis, “enraged that a +mortal should break silence in his temple,” kicked him so violently that +he lost consciousness. Contrast the impressive description of Vathek’s +reception by “the formidable Eblis” enthroned upon the globe of fire. +“His person was that of a young man, whose noble and regular features +seemed to have been tarnished by malignant vapours; in his large eyes +appeared both pride and despair; his flowing hair retained some +resemblance to that of an angel of light; in his hand, which thunder had +blasted, he swayed the iron scepter that causes the monster Ouranabad, +the Afrits, and all the powers of the abyss to tremble; at his presence +the heart of the Caliph sunk within him, and for the first time, he fell +prostrate on his face.” Beckford’s Eblis is a faint but not wholly +unworthy echo of Milton’s Satan, while Bignon’s Eblis is merely the +grotesque ogre of the fairy tale. + +The last pseudo-translation that need be noticed is the _New Arabian +Nights_ (1792), from the French of Dom Chavis and M. Cazotte.[32] The +book purported to be a continuation of the _Arabian Nights_, translated +from the Arabic. Modern scholars believe that the “translators” +undoubtedly utilized Arabic manuscripts as a basis, but made so many +changes that the book is to be regarded as a pseudo-translation. It may +be dismissed as a weak imitation of the _Arabian Nights_, redeemed in +part by two admirable tales: _The Robber Caliph_ and _The History of +Maugraby[33] the Magician_. The latter has additional interest in that +it suggested to Southey the germinal idea of _Thalaba_.[34] Maugraby, +the evil enchanter, half human, half genie, carries away children to his +magical domains under Mt. Atlas, and by tortures and caresses enslaves +them for his master Zatanai [Satan]. If obedient, they are taken to the +caverns under the sea adjoining the Dom Daniel near Tunis,—the school of +magic and the magnificent court of Asmodeus,—where evil magicians +assemble in the wane of the moon. The hero of this tale is the captive +prince Habed, who after exciting adventures compasses the destruction of +Maugraby and the liberation of his prisoners, including the princess of +Egypt. The story closes with the marriage of the prince and the +princess. The narrative is marred by coarse incidents and a few long +digressions, but contains several interesting passages, _e.g._ the +introductory scenes between Maugraby, the vizier, the buffoon,[35] and +the king; the descriptions of the wiles of the magician; and the account +of Habed’s life in the fairy palace. The interest is always centered on +the hero’s terrible task of fighting the powers of darkness, led by +Maugraby. The latter possesses no countenance peculiar to himself, but +changes even his features according to the passion of the moment and +transfers his evil soul from one body to another. “He takes every method +to engage the kings of the earth to part with their first-born sons to +him that they may become powerful instruments in his hands; ... he +prowls about the houses of those that are discontented. If a father ... +be displeased with his son and happen to curse him, he seizes the child; +if, on the other hand, the son should curse his father, still the child +is made his prey.... If a caravan set out for Upper Egypt ... through +the desart [_sic_], the magician mounts on the wind schirak ... in order +to destroy them. When the unfortunate company are reduced to the last +extremity, he appears ... as a benefactor ... on condition that they +shall surrender themselves soul and body to him, to Zatanai [Satan] and +the great Kokopilesobe [Lucifer]. The caravan agreeing, presently +arrives at his retreat, and, instead of two or three hundred beasts of +burden, there are now above four hundred; for all the merchants and +other persons are metamorphosed into brutes.... Though he was handsome +in his youth, his person is now become a mass of deformity, as well as +his mind. His decrepitude is such as may be expected from his great age, +which exceeds a century and a half. His human body is a mere chimera; he +can, however, assume every form he chooses, and nothing discovers him +but the sinister expression of his eye.”[36] + +The other tale, _The Robber Caliph_, is farcical and amusing—very +different from _Maugraby_. Haroun Alraschid, tired of elaborate court +festivals, escapes to his beloved streets of Bagdad in the disguise of +an Arab robber-chief, “Il Bondocani.” His thirst for adventure is +gratified by the rescue of a white-handed beggar-woman, who proves to be +the princess of Persia. She, likewise, wanders disguised through the +city, and unwittingly rouses Haroun’s jealousy of a young officer, +Yemalledin. The latter and the princess are imprisoned. Again the +disguised caliph goes forth, finds a poor old woman with a marvelously +beautiful daughter, Zutulbe, and sends the mother to order the cadi to +marry Zutulbe and “Il Bondocani.” The old woman’s mystification, the +cadi’s haughty behaviour and his sudden obsequiousness at the name of +“Il Bondocani” are amusing; and so are the sudden preparations for the +gorgeous wedding-feast and the more sudden dispersal of clamouring +neighbours by the display of “Il Bondocani’s” ring. The caliph discovers +from the old woman’s talk the innocence of her son Yemalledin, reveals +his identity, restores Yemalledin to honour, and gives him the Princess +of Persia. Of course all live happily ever after. The dramatic effect +throughout is capital, for the reader is in the secret and enjoys with +Haroun the complication and the resolution of the plot. There are many +admirable touches in dialogue, description, and oriental setting. On the +whole, the story deserves to rank with the true _Arabian Nights_. + +Following these pseudo-translations, three small groups of imaginative +oriental fiction deserve brief notice: the heroic romances, the +realistic tales, and the eclogues. Of little intrinsic value, they are +interesting chiefly as evidence of the diffusion of the orientalizing +tendency. The first group includes reprints and imitations of a few of +the heroic romances of the previous century. _The Beautiful Turk_ (1720) +is another translation of the French romance by G. de Brémond translated +as _Hattige, or the Amours of the King of Tamaran ..., a Novel_ (a +_roman à clef_ concerning Charles II. and the Duchess of Cleveland), +published Amsterdam, 1680, and also in Vol. I. (1679 or 1683?), of R. +Bentley’s _Modern Novels_, London (1679–1692).[37] The _Bajazet_ of J. +Regnauld de Segrais was reprinted in 1725.[38] Mrs. Aubin’s _Noble +Slaves, or the Lives and Adventures of Two Lords and Two Ladies_ +(1722?)[39] is Spanish in plot and character, but contains minor +personages,—Chinese, Persian, etc.,—who recount their experiences. In +1733 appeared a translation from the French of D’Orville: _The +Adventures of Prince Jakaya, or the Triumph of Love over Ambition, being +Secret Memoirs of the Ottoman Court_,[40] a romantic tale. Jakaya, the +true heir to the Ottoman sultanate, flees in disguise from his brother’s +murderous wrath, has many adventures, marries for love, and renounces +ambition. The story is imaginative, but is too frequently moralistic and +didactic. Yet, with others of the same type, it is interesting as +constituting the last feeble wave of the receding tide of +seventeenth-century heroic romances. It is true that these romances were +read far into the eighteenth century; witness Mrs. Lennox’s satire, _The +Female Quixote_, and George Colman’s _Polly Honeycomb_. But by 1740 +imitations had ceased to be written; the wave had spent its force and +ebbed away in stories like _The Adventures of Prince Jakaya_. + +The second group referred to at the beginning of the preceding +paragraph, also of little intrinsic value, is of even greater +consequence as a touchstone of the times. The realistic oriental tales +connect the orientalizing tendency, if one may so call it, with the more +profound and widespread tendency of the age toward realism. +Appropriately enough, the first great writer of realistic fiction in the +century, was also the first to utilize—though very slightly—the oriental +material in a realistic tale. In _The Farther Adventures of Robinson +Crusoe_ (1719),[41] the hero travels through China, where he meets +mandarins, sees porcelain houses, and witnesses “incredible +performances.” In Muscovy he destroys a village idol, escapes in safety, +fights Cossacks, etc.—incidents in the manner of travelers’ accounts. In +1755 a feeble imitation of _Robinson Crusoe_ appeared, with some +resemblance to an oriental tale. It is best described by the title: _The +Life and surprizing Adventures of Friga Reveep, of Morlaix, France, who +was Sixteen years in an uninhabited Part of Africa and how he met with a +young Virgin who was bannish’d and in what manner they liv’d together +and had two children, a Son and a Daughter, the latter dying when she +was six years of Age; together with their surprizing Deliverance to +their own Country again with a faithful Relation of all that past during +the Time that he was there. Written in French by himself and translated +into English by Mr. Transmarine_ (1755).[42] Four or five other members +of this realistic group, though comparatively unimportant, are worth +notice, because they are possibly founded on tales brought home from the +East by English merchants, and thus bear witness to the growing interest +of England in the Orient. In _The History of Rodomond and the Beautiful +Indian_,[43] an English merchant, saved from treacherous natives by an +East Indian girl, escapes with her to England and marries her. _The +History of Henrietta de Bellgrave_[43] is the story of a girl, who, +shipwrecked in the East Indies, escapes from pirates, leads a Robinson +Crusoe life, and is finally married to a “Banyan.” _The Disinterested +Nabob_ (1788)[44] is an anonymous “novel, interspersed with genuine +descriptions of India, its Manners and Customs.” The scene is laid +partly in India, and there is an unsuccessful attempt at local colour. +The story is in reality a mediocre imitation of _Sir Charles Grandison_. +_The Asiatic Princess_, by Mrs. Pilkington (1800),[45] is oriental only +in so far as the heroine is the Princess Merjee of Siam and references +are made to Eastern treatment of slaves and to the suttee. The princess +is intrusted to an English lady and her husband to be educated by +travel. Her instructors moralize on the differences between oriental and +English ways, and endeavour to guide her by moral tales. Another +realistic story, _The Female Captive_, has far more life. The entire +title reads, _The Female Captive, a narrative of Facts which happened in +Barbary in the Year 1756, written by herself_. London, 1769.[46] It has +many evidences of being a true story. The heroine, engaged to an +Englishman, sails for home from Minorca under the care of a Mr. Crisp. +Captured by Moors, she passes for his sister, and later for his wife, to +save herself. After imprisonments and other hardships, she is given an +audience by the prince of the country and thoughtlessly repeats unknown +words a French boy interpreter asks her to say. They prove to be, “There +is no God but God, and Mahomet is his prophet,” and she is told by the +prince that her saying them has made her a Moor, subject to death by +fire if she prove renegade.[47] Through Mr. Crisp’s aid she escapes to +England. There she finds her fiancé unworthy, and is finally married to +Mr. Crisp. The narrative is by far the best of the realistic group. +There are frequent appeals to Virtue and Fortitude in true +eighteenth-century style, but the story is well told. Little direct +description of the narrator is given, yet from what she does and suffers +and what others do for her, it is easy to picture her as a fair English +girl, shy and brave—an attractive heroine. + +_The Fair Syrian_, by Robert Bage (1787),[48] is a long and tedious +novel in letter-form, diversified by the adventures of the English +heroine among the Turks, and extolling her devotion to Virtue. _The +Anaconda_, by “Monk” Lewis, in _Romantic Tales_ (1808),[49] belongs in +certain respects to this group, being a realistic story of the +adventures of various English people and natives in the East in their +struggles with an anaconda. Before leaving these realistic tales, it may +be well to mention _The Unfortunate Princess_, by Mrs. Eliza Haywood +(1741),[50] a fantastic tale called by the author “a veracious history,” +but bearing every mark of invention. Extravagant in describing magic +storms and horrible monsters, coarse, didactic, and bombastic, the story +is valuable only as exemplifying both the moralizing and the fantastic +tendencies under the guise of realism. + +The third group referred to above (p. 46) includes the oriental +eclogues, of which the chief writers were William Collins, Thomas +Chatterton, and John Scott.[51] The four brief poems by Collins +published in 1742 as _Persian Eclogues_,[52] and afterward (1757) called +_Oriental Eclogues_, include: I. _Selim, or the Shepherd’s Moral_, which +represents the shepherd Selim in “a valley near Bagdat” calling the +shepherdesses to practise various virtues; II. _Hassan, or the Camel +Driver_, being Hassan’s lament over the dangers of the desert; III. +_Abra, or the Georgian Sultana_, a poem praising the pastoral life of +the beautiful shepherdess who married the Sultan and brought him back +occasionally to the happy shepherd life for a vacation from the cares of +state; and IV. _Agib and Secander, or the Fugitives_. These eclogues +bear to the later and better work of Collins a relation similar to that +borne by Tennyson’s youthful experiments in versification to the poems +of his maturity. Collins’s eclogues are not remarkable as poetry, but +they are superior to Chatterton’s or Scott’s, and they possess something +of the delicate finish and the pensive note characteristic of the author +of _The Ode to Evening_. Chatterton’s _African Eclogues_[53] are three +in number: I. _Narva and Mored_ (May, 1770), recounting the love of the +priest Narva for the beautiful Mored, and their tragic death; II. _The +Death of Nicou_ (June, 1770), who avenged his sister and slew himself; +and III. _Heccar and Gaira_ (printed 1784; written January, 1770), the +vengeance wrought by Gaira for the enslaving of his family. These poems +are characterized by crude imaginative force and incoherent, almost +Ossianic, fervor. John Scott’s (1730–1783) _Oriental Eclogues_ +(1782)[54] (I. _Zerad, or the Absent Lover, an Arabian Eclogue_; II. +_Serim, or the Artificial Famine, an East-Indian Eclogue_; and III. +_Li-po, or the Good Governor, a Chinese Eclogue_) are early examples of +the influence of the movement we have called the new scholarly movement. +The author refers to the “elegant and judicious essay” of the “learned +and ingenious Mr. Jones” [_i.e._ Sir William Jones]; and, like Moore and +Southey, though with less assimilative power, draws copiously from +numerous orientalists. Hence Scott’s use of oriental material forms an +interesting link between the simple Johnsonian manner of orientalizing +by a few phrases—a manner exemplified in the eclogues of Collins—and the +elaborate orientalization in the verse of Southey and of Moore.[55] + +Two years after the death of Scott, in 1785, appeared one of the most +interesting of all the imaginative oriental tales: _Charoba_, translated +from the French, and published by Clara Reeve in _The Progress of +Romance_.[56] In addition to considerable intrinsic value, _Charoba_ +deserves especial notice as the direct source of Landor’s poem, _Gebir_ +(1798). The story of _Charoba_ is briefly as follows: Gebirus, the +fierce and gigantic king of the Gadites, determines to marry Charoba, +queen of Egypt, and take possession of her kingdom. His naïve motive is +the hope of being cured of an illness by the favourable climate of that +country. A prelude concerning Charoba gives an account of her father +Totis, a cruel despot, who, like Balak, seeks to propitiate God’s +servant—in this case, Abraham. Totis dies; Charoba, handsome, +“ingenious,” generous, and wise, is made queen, and receives from +Abraham a blessing, which distinctly foreshadows her victory over +Gebirus, and enhances the artistic effect: “Great God, give her subtilty +to deceive her enemies and to vanquish all those who shall arise to do +her harm and to strive with her for her land.” On the appearance of +Gebirus, Charoba’s nurse, a great enchantress, persuades him by rich +gifts and by Charoba’s promise to marry him when his task is done, to +build a city with the stones he has brought to dam the Nile. He makes no +progress, because the nurse employs demons of the sea to tear down the +work each night. At last he learns from a melancholy shepherd that every +evening a fair lady rises from the sea, overcomes the shepherd in +wrestling, and takes away a sheep; the flock is diminishing, and he is +pining for love of her. Gebirus in his stead overcomes the lady and wins +as price of her freedom the secret of circumventing the destructive +demons and of getting treasure from a magic cave. Thus he finishes his +city. Charoba, desperate, by her nurse’s advice poisons his army, +receives him with royal honours, and kills him with a poisoned robe.[57] +Three years later she dies from a serpent’s sting, and is buried in +Gebirus’s city. + +The scene of the death of Gebirus is dramatic. The subtle nurse, +throwing over his shoulders the poisoned robe, sprinkled him with magic +water, and he fell at Charoba’s feet. The attendants raised him up and +seated him on a throne. The nurse said to him: “‘Is the king well +tonight?’—He replied—‘A mischief on your coming hither!—May you be +treated by others as you have treated me!—this only grieves me, that a +man of strength and valour should be overcome by the subtilty of a +woman.’ ‘Is there anything you would ask of me before you taste of +death?’ said the queen—‘I would only intreat,’ said he, ‘that the words +I shall utter may be engraven on one of the pillars of this palace which +I have built.’ Then said Charoba, ‘I give thee my promise that it shall +be done; and I also will cause to be engraven on another pillar, “This +is the fate of such men as would compel queens to marry them, and +kingdoms to receive them for their kings.” Tell us now thy last words.’ + +“Then the king said—‘I, Gebirus the Metaphequian, the son of Gevirus, +that have caused marbles to be polished,—both the red and the green +stone to be wrought curiously; who was possessed of gold, and jewels, +and various treasures; who have raised armies; built cities, erected +palaces:—who have cut my way through mountains; have stopped rivers; and +done many great and wonderful actions:—with all this my power and my +strength, and my valour and my riches, I have been circumvented by the +wiles of a woman; weak, impotent, and deceitful; who hath deprived me of +my strength and understanding; and finally hath taken away my +life:—wherefore, whoever is desirous to be great and to prosper; (though +there is no certainty of long success in this world)—yet, let him put no +trust in a woman, but let him, at all times, beware of the craft and +subtilty of a woman.’ After saying these words, he fainted away and they +supposed him dead; but after some time he revived again. Charoba +comforted him and renewed her promise to him. Being at the point of +death, he said: ‘Oh Charoba!—triumph not in my death!—for there shall +come upon thee a day like unto this, and the time is not very far +distant.—Then thou shalt reflect on the vicissitudes of fortune and the +certainty of death.’”[58] + +The other notable scene, the victory of Gebirus over the sea-nymph, +recalls the Siegfried-Brunhilde story. The entire shepherd-episode, the +nightly destruction of the day’s work, and the incident of the poisoned +robe, are like classic legends. The strange demons of the sea, the +spell-bound statues, the enchanted cave, remind one of many oriental +tales. Magic in _Charoba_ is used with considerable skill, and is made +subsidiary to, and symbolic of, human subtlety. It is the cunning of +Charoba’s nurse, more than her witchcraft, that wins the final victory, +and both kinds of skill typify the desperate resistance of Charoba’s +will to the determination of Gebirus. But the characterization is faint, +as in other oriental tales; the characters are suggested rather than +wrought out. As a whole, _Charoba_ has a rude, tragic force far superior +to that of the average oriental tale. No wonder it kindled the +imagination of Landor. + +The poet’s use of the material he found in _Charoba_ is characteristic +of his peculiar genius. He has kept the main features: the determined +wooing of the princess by Gebir, the building and destruction of his +city, the shepherd-episode, and the manner of Gebir’s death. He has +omitted the prelude concerning Totis and Abraham, and the sequel +concerning Charoba’s death. The poem closes with the death of Gebir, +consistently with Landor’s theme, which is not _The History of Charoba_, +but _Gebir_. For the same reason throughout the poem he has heightened +the character of Gebir into an heroic figure of almost epic proportions. +The Gebirus of the _History_, a fierce and rude giant, who covets Egypt +for selfish reasons, gives place to a patriotic hero, who invades Egypt +in revenge for ancestral wrongs, ambitious, brave, full of pity for his +brother Tamar and of love for Charoba, devout and reverent to the gods, +oppressed by impending fate, yet undaunted. It is the figure of the +traditional epic hero. To throw it into bolder relief, Landor has +changed Charoba from the proud queen to a love-sick girl, whose fear and +pride keep her from avowing her passion for Gebir. Her silence causes +Gebir’s death, for her nurse Dalica, inferring that she does not love +him, proceeds, unknown to Charoba, to compass his death. Dalica’s use of +magic gives Landor the opportunity of inserting one of his most striking +passages, describing her visit to the ruined city and incantations over +the poisoned robe. The magic in _Gebir_ is no longer the primitive +enchantment of _The History of Charoba_. The latter recalls Biblical and +oriental stories, such as the _Witch of Endor_ or the _Arabian Nights_; +but the former is rather the magic of classical legend,—incantations +like those in Theocritus and Homer. The descent into the subterranean +treasure-cave in _Charoba_ is replaced by the journey of Gebir to Hades, +where he is taught the futility of ambition and the certainty of +punishment for evil-doers and of reward for the righteous after death. +The shepherd-episode is developed into a story by itself after the +manner of Ovid, with descriptions of the nymph, the woods, the seashore, +the shepherd, and the wrestling-match. In such ways the poem assumes an +entirely different aspect from that of the _History_. It has lost the +crude and primitive simplicity of the conflict between the wills of +Charoba and of Gebirus, but it has gained in the heroic proportions of +the character of Gebir, in remarkable descriptive passages, and in blank +verse of great, though uneven, beauty. + +Of even greater significance than _Charoba_ is the _History of the +Caliph Vathek_,[59] the bizarre masterpiece of William Beckford, which +holds among all the oriental tales of the century a unique and +deservedly high place. It is indeed almost the only modern oriental +story “which might appear without disadvantage in the _Arabian Nights_, +with Aladdin on its right hand and Ali Baba on its left.”[60] Although +not a great book, it is entitled to live chiefly for the sake of one +remarkable scene—the catastrophe in the Hall of Eblis—in which the +author, having laid aside the mockery, the coarseness, and the flippancy +that reduce the first part of the book to the level of a mere _jeu +d’esprit_, shows himself capable of conceiving and depicting an +impressive catastrophe. From the moment when Vathek and Nouronihar +approach the dark mountains guarding the infernal regions until they +meet their doom, the note of horror is sustained. “A deathlike stillness +reigned over the mountain and through the air; the moon dilated on a +vast platform the shade of the lofty columns which reached from the +terrace almost to the clouds; the gloomy watch-towers were veiled by no +roof, and their capitals, of an architecture unknown in the records of +the earth, served as an asylum for the birds of darkness, which, alarmed +at the approach of such visitants, fled away croaking.” They proceeded, +and, “ascending the steps of a vast staircase, reached the terrace, +which was flagged with squares of marble, and resembled a smooth expanse +of water, upon whose surface not a leaf ever dared to vegetate; on the +right rose the watch-towers, ranged before the ruins of an immense +palace.” On the walls Vathek beheld an Arabic inscription permitting him +to enter the subterranean abode of Eblis. “He had scarcely read these +words before the mountain against which the terrace was reared, +trembled, and the watch-towers were ready to topple headlong upon them; +the rock yawned, and disclosed within it a staircase of polished marble +that seemed to approach the abyss; upon each stair were planted two +large torches, like those Nouronihar had seen in her vision, the +camphorated vapour ascending from which gathered into a cloud under the +hollow of the vault.” They descended to be welcomed by the malignant +Giaour who had first tempted Vathek, and to be led into a magnificent +hall radiant with light and fragrant with subtle odours, but containing +“a vast multitude incessantly passing, who severally kept their right +hands on their hearts,” as if in agony. Refusing to explain this ominous +mystery, the guide conducted them into the presence of “the formidable +Eblis,” the fallen archangel enthroned on a globe of fire.[61] He +received them and promised them treasures and talismans. But when they +eagerly followed the evil Giaour to an inner treasurechamber, they heard +from “the great Soliman” himself an account of his ambitions, his evil +deeds, and his terrible punishment. He “raised his hands toward +Heaven ... and the Caliph discerned through his bosom, which was +transparent as crystal, his heart enveloped in flames.” To Vathek’s cry +of terror the malicious Giaour replied: “‘Know, miserable prince! thou +art now in the abode of vengeance and despair: thy heart also will be +kindled, like those of the other votaries of Eblis. A few days are +allotted to thee previous to this fatal period; employ them as thou +wilt; recline on these heaps of gold; command the Infernal +Potentates, ... no barrier shall be shut against thee; as for me, I have +fulfilled my mission: I now leave thee to thyself.’ At these words he +vanished.” When the inevitable hour came, their hearts “immediately took +fire, and they at once lost the most precious of the gifts of +Heaven—Hope.” Their mutual passion turned into hate and they “plunged +themselves into the accursed multitude, there to wander in an eternity +of unabating anguish.” + +The rest of the book does not begin to equal the catastrophe. Perhaps, +indeed, one should not take it too seriously, but regard it rather as an +intentionally absurd and brilliant extravaganza. Beckford seems to have +begun merely with the idea of writing a clever oriental tale in the +lighter manner of Voltaire and Count Hamilton; but, as he went on +improvising one fantastic scene after another, the concept of the Hall +of Eblis fired his imagination and roused his real genius. The plot +follows the caprice of the narrator in turning aside for grotesque +episodes, but is clear in its main course. It begins with Vathek’s +impious building of a marvelously high tower from whence he studies +astrology. Suddenly “a hidious Giaour” appears at court and intensifies +the Caliph’s evil ambition for power and riches at any cost. Vathek +abjures his Mahometan faith, murders, or at least attempts to murder, +fifty innocent children after winning their confidence; with the aid of +his mother, a horrible sorceress, kills many of his faithful subjects; +insults holy dervishes; and finally violates the sacred hospitality of +the Emir Fakreddin by seducing his daughter Nouronihar. Her ambition +strengthens that of Vathek, and together they go on to their inevitable +fate. Throughout the story premonitions, ominous hints of impending +disaster, are skilfully used to prepare for the tragic outcome. Charming +scenes of quiet beauty—serene sunsets, children playing with butterflies +and flowers, nightingales singing among the roses—are almost invariably +followed by some sudden horror: an eclipse, streaks of blood across the +blue sky, a vast black chasm, and other terrifying portents. The whole +book gives the impression of an extraordinary dream. On one occasion +Nouronihar, led by a strange globe of fire, followed through the +darkness. “She stopped a second time, the sound of waterfalls mingling +their murmurs, the hollow rustlings amongst the palm-branches, and the +funereal screams of the birds from their rifted trunks, all conspired to +fill her with terror; she imagined every moment that she trod on some +venomous reptile; all the stories of malignant Dives and dismal Goules +thronged into her memory; but her curiosity was, notwithstanding, +stronger than her fears.” Such passages reveal the kinship of _Vathek_ +with _The Mysteries of Udolpho_ and other “tales of terror.” An +interesting distinction is noticeable between the kind of horror present +here and that in tales like the _Arabian Nights_. In the latter it is +more objective and lacks the psychological, uncanny quality found in +_Vathek_ and the others. _Vathek_ is, however, a thoroughly oriental +tale of terror. The author handles his rich store of oriental allusions, +names, phrases, and imagery, so easily that one would hardly realize how +great the abundance is, if one were not confronted with the elaborate +annotations by the first editor, Henley. The exotic brilliance of the +various scenes is enhanced by references to the angels Munkir and Nekir, +who guard the bridge of death; to incantations and prayers; to the blue +butterflies of Cashmere; the loves of Megnoun and Leileh; cheeks the +colour of the blossom of the pomegranate, etc. Another element of charm +in _Vathek_ is the style, admirably clear and forcible, though +occasionally grandiose. Written by Beckford originally in French, the +book retains in the English version something of the French manner. +Always lucid, sometimes oratorical, frequently crisp and witty, the +style recalls that of Count Hamilton and of Voltaire. Beckford follows +his French prototypes, also, in his spirit of mockery and sarcasm, his +fitful humour, and intentional extravagance. When Vathek was angry “one +of his eyes became so terrible, that no person could bear to behold it, +and the wretch upon whom it was fixed instantly fell backward and +sometimes expired. For fear, however, of depopulating his domains and +making his palace desolate, he but rarely gave way to his anger.” Vathek +“wished to know everything, even sciences that did not exist.” In one of +the most grotesque scenes the Caliph and all his court were bewitched +into kicking the Giaour, who had rolled himself up into a ball, until he +disappeared into a chasm. + +But Beckford’s mockery has frequently a repulsive quality; it is brutal +as well as cynical, and usually dwells with repellent emphasis on things +that appeal to the senses. His brief and brilliant descriptions of +sensuous beauty—colour, form, fragrance, melody—are also too frequently +tinged with sensuality. This does not preclude, however, the moralizing +tendency; in fact, the two propensities are often coexistent in the +oriental tales, as they are in other forms of literature. Besides +repulsive mockery and sensuality the most serious defect in _Vathek_ is +one we have noticed as distinctive of the oriental fiction under +discussion, _i.e._ lack of characterization. The hero himself is a mere +bundle of attributes, self-indulgent, voluptuous, cruel, and ambitious, +not a living individual. Hence even the impressive catastrophe lacks +vitality and fails to rouse either the tragic terror or the tragic pity. + +_Vathek_ has been called a sporadic and isolated phenomenon in +eighteenth-century fiction. In one sense that is true; there was before +_Vathek_ no book just like it, and there has been none since. Yet it is +far more closely connected with its predecessors and successors than has +been generally acknowledged. We have already pointed out the obligations +of Beckford to the _Mogul Tales_ and the _Adventures of Abdalla_ and +suggested his indebtedness to Hamilton and Voltaire. The _Arabian +Nights_ was an obvious source of inspiration. The moralistic tales of +Dr. Johnson and of Hawkesworth, in which the hero is punished for evil +deeds, in all probability gave suggestions to Beckford. In the scene of +the Hall of Eblis, _Vathek_ is unique, and in a certain brilliance of +execution the book has few equals. Yet far from being sporadic or +abnormal, it is rather an epitome of many characteristic features of the +oriental tale: fantastic in plot and brilliant in colouring like the +_Arabian Nights_; weak in characterization, marred by sensuality, and +grotesque in incident like many oriental tales; witty and satirical like +some of the fiction of Voltaire and Hamilton; and tinged with the +moralizing spirit seen in Dr. Johnson’s tales. As a “tale of terror” it +exemplifies another contemporary tendency of English fiction. The wealth +of oriental allusion drawn from books reflects one more contemporaneous +movement, the revival of interest in the East by scholars like Sir +William Jones, and in so far foreshadows the similar use of similar +material by Moore, Southey, and Byron. To Byron,[62] moreover, as to +lesser writers like Barry Cornwall,[63] _Vathek_ was a direct source of +inspiration.[64] For all these reasons the book is especially +interesting to students of the literary history of the times.[65] + +Half-way between the imaginative oriental tales and the moralistic is a +small group including such stories as _Amorassan, or the Spirit of the +Frozen Ocean_[66] and _The History of Abdalla and Zoraide, or Filial and +Paternal Love_. The former is one of the _Romantic Tales_ of M. G. Lewis +(1808), and is in part a close translation from _Der Faust der +Morgenländer_ by F. M. Klinger and in part original with Lewis. It is a +heavy and uninteresting story concerning a caliph, his brother, good and +bad viziers, genii, and fishermen. The spirit of the frozen ocean comes +to the good vizier Amorassan “to dispel illusions,” and shows him so +much of the truth about mankind that he is handicapped in all his +actions and exiled. He attains happiness only after dismissing the +uncomfortable monitor. The moral is explicit: Do not endeavour to dispel +illusions, “let benevolence and reason guide you: beyond that all is +Destiny.” There is a slight attempt at oriental colouring and at +fanciful descriptions, but the tale is of little value. _The History of +Abdalla and Zoraide_[67] (1750?) is recommended on the title-page as +“well worthy the perusal of every tender parent and dutiful child”; and, +as might be inferred, is a highly moral effort. It is interesting +chiefly in that it is the possible source of a tale used by Goldsmith to +embellish _The Citizen of the World_, and that it may, with _Amorassan_, +be taken as a type of the imaginative oriental tale so far removed from +purely imaginative fiction like the _Arabian Nights_, the _Persian +Tales_, or _Charoba_, as to be almost moralistic. + + + + + CHAPTER II + THE MORALISTIC GROUP + + +If among the imaginative tales there are some that approach the +moralistic, on the other hand there are among the moralistic tales at +least three thoroughly imaginative. Two are translations of _contes_ by +Marmontel: _The Watermen of Besons_ and _Friendship put to the Test_; +the third is Thomas Parnell’s poem, _The Hermit_. Marmontel’s two tales +share the characteristics of his _Contes Moraux_ in general, “light, +elegant, and graceful beyond anything to which I can compare them in +English: their form is exquisite, and they are sometimes imagined with a +fineness, a poetic subtlety, that is truly delicious. If the reader can +fancy the humor of some of the stories in the _Spectator_ turned wit, +their grace indefinitely enhanced, their not very keen perception of the +delicate and the indelicate indefinitely blunted, their characterization +sharpened almost to an edge of cynicism at times, he will have something +like an image of the _Moral Tales_ in his mind.”[68] In fact, as Mr. +Howells suggests in the same essay, “The _Moral Tales_ of Marmontel are +moral, as the _Exemplary Novels_ of Cervantes are exemplary; the +adjectives are used in an old literary sense, and do not quite promise +the spiritual edification of the reader, or if they promise it, do not +fulfil the promise ... they are not such reading as we might now put +into young people’s hands without fear of offending their modesty, but +they must have seemed miracles of purity in their time, and they +certainly take the side of virtue, of common sense, and of nature, +whenever there is a question of these in the plot.” Marmontel himself +says that he has endeavoured “de rendre la vertu aimable”; and he adds: +“Enfin j’ai tâché partout de peindre ou les mœurs de la societé, ou les +sentiments de la nature; et c’est ce qui m’a fait donner à ce Recueil le +titre de Contes Moraux.”[69] + +Clearly, then, Marmontel stands half-way between purely imaginative +writers and weightier moralists like Dr. Johnson, who paraphrased +Horace:— + + “Garrit aniles + Ex re fabellas.” + —_Sat._, II., VI., 76. + + “The cheerful sage, when solemn dictates fail, + Conceals the moral counsel in a tale.”[70] + +_The Watermen of Besons_[71] is a story of multifarious adventures. The +beautiful and virtuous heroine, a young French girl, is slave +successively to a sultan, a prince, an old Cypriote, and a Knight of +Malta; preserves both life and honour; and is ultimately reunited to her +faithful lover André, the Waterman of Besons. He, meanwhile, has been +hither and yon in the Orient, as prisoner, vizier, and cook, escaping +from one farcical predicament after another. The scenes change from +France to Persia, India, and Syria. The oriental setting is picturesque, +if slight, and assists in emphasizing the virtue and piety of the +heroine and in exalting the simple country life of the boatman and his +family in contrast to the luxury and vain pleasures of the sultan’s +court. The story is cleverly told from introduction to close; and, +except for some ostentatious moralizing and a few questionable +incidents, is thoroughly attractive. In _Friendship put to the +Test_,[72] there is more moralizing and less art. It is a commonplace +tale of the self-sacrifice of a youth who relinquishes his bride to his +friend on discovering their mutual love. The heroine is a young East +Indian, daughter to a pious Bramin who worships Vishnu by the sacred +Ganges. The author endeavours to give additional local colour by +referring to “the custom of flattering a widow before she is burned.” He +satirizes European bigotry by describing the Brahmin’s tolerance toward +other creeds; makes one of his oriental personages criticize European +etiquette in the manner of the _Lettres Persanes_; and praises +simplicity and the ingenuous emotions of nature quite after the fashion +of Rousseau.[73] + +Marmontel’s tales have been praised by no less a critic than Ruskin as +being “exquisitely finished.” With them, so far as careful structure and +polished style are concerned, _The Hermit_[74] of Thomas Parnell may not +unreasonably be classed. The poem is so well-known that only a brief +comment is necessary here. It is a good example of the beauty and force +given to an exceedingly simple narrative by the power of style. The tale +was not original with Parnell, but was an inheritance from the earlier +stores of oriental fiction given to Europe by the East during the Middle +Ages. Pope writes: “The poem is very good.” The story was written +originally in Spanish [whence probably Howell had translated it into +prose, and inserted it in one of his letters].[75] Gaston Paris mentions +the same story, _L’ange et l’Ermite_ among the _contes dévots_ of the +Middle Ages, and says it is “juif sans doute d’origine.”[76] Wilhelm +Seele[77] enumerates various versions and mentions that of Parnell as +one of the accepted sources of _Zadig_. + +The opening lines of Parnell’s poem describing the peaceful life of the +hermit are characteristic:— + + “Far in a wild, unknown to public view, + From youth to age a reverend hermit grew; + The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell; + His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well: + Remote from man, with God he pass’d the days, + Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.” + +A doubt of the wisdom and power of Providence impels him to go out into +the world to observe the ways of God with men. A beautiful youth becomes +his companion and startles him by committing strange crimes culminating +in apparently wanton murder. The hermit, in anger, begins to rebuke the +youth:— + + “‘Detested wretch!’—but scarce his speech began, + When the strange partner seem’d no longer man: + His youthful face grew more serenely sweet; + His robe turn’d white, and flow’d upon his feet; + Fair rounds of radiant points invest his hair; + Celestial odours breathe through purpled air; + And wings, whose colours glitter’d on the Day, + Wide at his back their gradual plumes display. + The form ethereal bursts upon his sight, + And moves in all the majesty of light.” + +The angel explains each apparent crime as in reality a deed of +benevolence; the hermit learns to trust the mysterious ways of +Providence and returns in peace to his cell. The poem has been called +Parnell’s masterpiece; and is, indeed, an admirable example of the +_conte moral_ in verse. + +We suggested, above, two meanings of the word “moral”: one, that of +Marmontel, referring chiefly to manners; the other, that of Dr. Johnson, +emphasizing conduct. It is the latter meaning that best characterizes +the numerous moral oriental tales in eighteenth-century England—the +tales which we designate as “moralistic.” + +Even in the hands of Addison and Steele the oriental tale was speedily +utilized to inculcate right living and was made into a story “with a +purpose,”—in a word, became moralistic. The avowed aim of the +_Spectator_ and the _Tatler_ was to reconcile wit and morality, to +entertain and to preach, to hold the mirror of kindly ridicule up to +society, to smile away the follies or vices of the world, and to present +serene, temperate, and beautiful ideals of thought and of conduct. +Hence, even the fiction that frequently constitutes a vital part of the +essays is permeated with the same spirit. This holds true of the +character-sketches of Addison’s real and imaginary correspondents and +acquaintances, including even Sir Roger himself. It is true, also, of +the frequent allegorical visions and dreams, of the numerous classical +stories, and of the occasional oriental tales. To these various forms of +fiction Addison turned, “rambling,” as he says, “into several stories, +fetching one to my present purpose.” Attracted as the great essayists +were by the touch of extravagance, the strange dress and colouring, the +unfamiliar nomenclature and oriental fancies in these tales, they felt +constrained, nevertheless, to apologize for such unclassical material +and to justify their use of it. In the _Spectator_, No. 512, on the +fable as the best form of giving advice, Addison tells the entertaining +story of the Sultan Mahmoud and the vizier who pretended to understand +birds’ conversation, and introduces it by saying: “[There is] a pretty +instance of this nature in a Turkish Tale, which I do not like the worse +for that little oriental extravagance which is mixed with it.” “The +virtue of complaisance in friendly intercourse” is “very prettily +illustrated by a little wild Arabian tale,” the story of _Shacabac and +the Barmecide’s Feast_.[78] + +The story of the _Santon Barsisa_[79] is praised by Steele for +suggesting serious reflections and an obvious Christian moral. +_Alnaschar_ from the _Arabian Nights_ is used to conclude an essay upon +the transitoriness of human life and the vain hope of worldly ambitions. +Addison says, “What I have here said may serve as a moral to an Arabian +fable which I find translated into French by Monsieur Galland [and which +is marked by] a wild but natural simplicity.”[80] In the story of the +_Persian Emperor’s Riddle_,[81] the question, “What is the tree that has +three hundred and sixty-five leaves, black and white?” is one of the +riddles in the story of the _Princess of China_ (_Persian Tales_). The +same answer is given, “A year,” but Addison affixes the reflection that +the leaves represent the king’s acts, which look white to his friends +and black to his enemies. The “Persian story” of the just sultan, who +executed a culprit in the dark, though he knew that it might be his son, +concludes an essay on justice.[82] The riddle-like acts of the sultan +and his final explanation seem characteristically oriental. + +Two tales are apparently original with Addison: the _Story of Helim and +Abdallah_[83] and the _Story of Hilpa, Harpath, and Shalum_.[84] The +former Addison says he found “lately translated out of an Arabian +manuscript.” It has, he thinks, “very much the turn of an oriental +tale; ... never before printed; ... [and doubtless will be] highly +acceptable to the reader.” From such an introduction the reader +naturally infers that Addison invented the tale. The character of the +story confirms this inference. Helim, the great physician, educates +Ibrahim and Abdallah, sons to the tyrant Alnareschin, who has killed +thirty-five wives and twenty sons. Abdallah and Balsora, the daughter of +Helim, fall in love; the king covets Balsora; Helim gives her a sleeping +potion; and she wakes in a tomb with Abdallah.[85] They escape past the +guards in the guise of spirits and live happily in a beautiful retreat +on a mountain. After the tyrant’s death Helim reunites Ibrahim and +Abdallah, and ultimately Abdallah’s son succeeds Ibrahim. For oriental +colouring Addison refers to the seal of Solomon, Persia, Mahomet, etc. +His characters are the commonplace types: the tyrant, the wise +physician, the beautiful girl, and others. He employs fanciful touches +in describing the black marble palace with its hundred ebony doors +guarded by negroes and its five thousand lamps; and also in recounting +the lovers’ escape by moonlight as spirits in white and azure silk +robes. No direct moral is drawn, but virtue is rewarded and vice +thwarted. The other moral oriental tale by Addison is called by him “an +antediluvian novel,”[86] the _Story of Hilpa, Harpath, and Shalum_. He +pretends to have found it in Chinese records, “the only antediluvian +_billet-doux_ in existence,” and attempts to give verisimilitude by +localizing it in places with fictitious names that have an oriental +sound, and by using flowery language. A humorous effect of mock +antiquity is obtained by exaggerating the age of the characters,—Hilpa, +for instance, is a beautiful girl of seventy,—and a touch of satire, by +implying that only an antediluvian woman would marry for money. The +feeble characterization—if characterization it can be called—of the +haughty and contemptuous Harpath and the good and gentle Shalum +forecasts the later efforts of Johnson and Hawkesworth. Although the +tale contains no explicit moral, it is used to illustrate a “kind of +moral virtue”—the planting of trees. Antediluvians had an advantage over +us in that they outlived the trees they planted. The lack of direct +moralizing in these two original tales is unusual: at least half the +oriental tales quoted or adapted in the Addisonian periodicals enunciate +an express moral lesson. The morality, like the philosophy, is not +distinctly oriental in character. Industry and economy, health and +cleanliness, prudence and justice, kindly “complaisance,” the art of +giving advice and seeking instruction, serenity in the face of calumny +and death,—it is the Addisonian code of virtues in oriental guise. + +In thus utilizing the oriental tale for moralistic purposes and—as we +shall see later[87]—for philosophic ends also, Addison gave the prelude +and the direction to two distinct tendencies of the entire period.[88] +The strength of the moralizing proclivity may be illustrated from the +translation of the imaginative _Mogul Tales_ of Gueullette. On the +title-page of the edition of 1736, the anonymous English translator +quotes:— + + “In pleasing Tales, the artful Sage can give + Rules, how in Happiness and Ease to live: + Can shew what Good should most attract the Mind, + And how our Woes we from our Vices find; + Delighting, yet instructing thus our Youth, + Who catch at Fable—How to gather Truth.” + +He then gives a prefatory “Discourse on the Usefulness of Romances,”[89] +in the course of which he says that romances are useful in that they +“Engage Young People to love Reading,” instil in them “Address, +Politeness, and a high sense of Virtue,” and teach them the geography +and customs of foreign countries. “Clownish People, and Persons long +doom’d to what is called Low-Life ... ought on their coming into the +World to be treated as Children and these Books recommended to them. By +them they are led at once into Courts and into Camps, are taught the +Language of the Toilette and the Drawing-Room, and are made acquainted +with those superior Sentiments which inhabit only great Souls, and +distinguish true Heroes from the Vulgar. By turning over such Volumes, +Rusticity is quickly polished, and the Beauties of a gentile Behaviour +set in such a light, as must attract a Heart not entirely Savage.... The +late Humour of reading Oriental Romances, such as the Arabian, Persian, +and Turkish Tales, though I will not contend, it has much better’d our +Morals, has, however, extended our Notions, and made the Customs of the +East much more familiar to us than they were before, or probably ever +would have been, had they not been communicated to us by this indirect, +and pleasant Way. Now these are certainly very great Advantages, and +very valuable Acquirements, even to Men; and many giddy young Fellows +have been, by amusing themselves with such Trifles, taught to conceive +clearly, and to converse properly, in relation to Things which otherwise +they would have known nothing about.” The writer then proceeds to bring +out the moral which, in his opinion, is latent in oriental tales, +especially in this collection. “The grand Moral of these ingenious Tales +is contained in this Sentence: True Virtue alone is capable of standing +all Trials, and persisting therein is the only means of attaining solid +Happiness. The Author has illustrated the Truth of this Maxim by a +Multitude of Instances, all of them probable, and some of them I have +Reason to think founded upon matters of Fact. Human Nature is +represented ... with strict regard to Truth, and in a manner which +cannot fail of improving, as well as entertaining, the considerate +Reader. From the perusal of these Sheets, he will have it in his Power +to make a hundred Reflections, which may produce very happy Effects, if +apply’d to the Regulation of his own Conduct. He will, for Example, see +how ridiculous it is for a Man in Years to hope for Satisfaction from +engaging in new Amours, and vainly flattering himself that Fondness and +grey Hairs will ever attach the Soul of a sprightly young Woman.... The +Misfortunes of the Blind Man of Chitor, cannot fail of putting him who +reads them, in Mind of the Danger there is in making an ill Use of Court +Favour, and of studying nothing but the gratification of sensual +Appetites; what is supernatural in that Story, is certainly wrought with +great Strength of Genius, and gives us a fine Idea of the Wisdom and +Justice of Providence, in punishing the Offenses of Mankind,” and so on +to the end. Similar sentiments, though less explicit, are found in +Gueullette’s own dedication of the _Tartarian Tales_ to the Duke of +Chartres. “The Book ... is of the Nature of those which are improving as +well as entertaining. Though the Subject appear light, yet it conduces +to something useful on Account of the Morality couched in it.”[90] + +In addition to giving a general moralistic direction to the uses of +oriental or pseudo-oriental material, Addison initiated the method +employed in writing moral oriental tales. The similarities between the +two oriental tales written by Dr. Johnson for the _Rambler_, and +Addison’s original stories in the _Spectator_, are obvious and afford +another instance of Johnson’s well-known emulation of the earlier +essayist. In each case the result was insignificant in literary +value.[91] Yet the attitude Addison took toward this oriental material +and the use he made of it are exceedingly interesting to the student of +the period, even though the actual tales he composed are so few and so +trifling. The same is true of Dr. Johnson, and although his “clumsy +gambols,”[92] and those of his contemporary imitator, Dr. John +Hawkesworth, need not detain us long, they must not be overlooked. + +Addison’s touch is lighter, as might be expected, while Johnson’s manner +is certainly clumsy; but in childish simplicity of plan, of +characterization, and of oriental colouring, such a tale as _Hamet and +Raschid_[93] is not unlike _Hilpa, Harpath, and Shalum_.[94] Hawkesworth +followed Johnson closely in these respects. + + “Ingenious Hawkesworth to this school we owe + And scarce the pupil from the tutor know.”[95] + +The only detailed description containing local colour is the picture of +Bozaldab’s son upon “the throne of diamonds.” He is seated beside a +princess “fairer than a Houri” and is surrounded by Rajahs of fifty +nations. The hall is adorned with jasper statues and ivory doors with +hinges of Golconda gold. A few customs are briefly mentioned, _e.g._ +pressing the royal signet to the forehead in token of obedience, and +meeting at the well in the desert where caravans stop.[96] Neither +Johnson nor Hawkesworth attempts to localize the action beyond alluding +to Bagdad, the plains of India, or “all the East.” + +One curious characteristic differentiating these two later essayists +from Addison, is their far more elaborate care to adorn their narratives +with what they style “the pompous language of the East.” Orientalized +phrases are found in Addison’s tales, but are far simpler and less +frequent. Hawkesworth carries the mannerism to extremes. “Amurath, +Sultan of the East, the judge of nations, the disciple of adversity, +records the wonders of his life.” “As the hand of time scattered snow +upon his head, its freezing influence extended to his bosom.” The +flutter of the Angel’s wings is like “the rushing of a cataract,” a +beautiful valley is “the Garden of Hope,” a dog is “thy brother of the +dust.” “Despair has armed [his hand] with a dagger.” Figures of speech +in Biblical phraseology are frequent, _e.g._ a smile “diffused gladness +like the morning,” “the straight road of piety,” “the cup of +consolation,” the “Angel of Death came forward like a whirlwind.” In +Johnson’s tales and to a certain extent in Hawkesworth’s _Carazan_,[97] +the phrases are frequently dignified as well as sonorous, but in other +tales by Hawkesworth and Warton the language is absurdly +“elevated,”—“the hoary sage”; “the fatal malignity,” _i.e._ the cup of +poison; “the screams of the melancholy birds of midnight that flit +through the echoing chambers of the Pyramids.” Such diction is +noticeable in contrast to the plain English of Hawkesworth’s +non-oriental tales, _e.g._ the story of _Melissa_,[98] and indicates +unmistakably that “pompous language” was one essential in the +eighteenth-century concept of the oriental tale. This is the more +curious, since in the genuine oriental tales known in England at the +time Johnson and Hawkesworth were writing, such language is the +exception rather than the rule.[99] In the _Persian Tales_, for +instance, the collection where one might expect to find figurative +language, reference is made once or twice to the nightingale as lover of +the rose, but figures such as the following are noticeably rare: “I lie +down upon the thorns of uneasiness; the poison of your absence preys +upon my heart and insensibly consumes my very life.” “Your forehead is +like a plate of polished silver; your brows resemble two spacious +arches; your eyes sparkle beyond diamonds; ... your mouth is a ruby +casket that holds a bracelet of pearls.” The rarity of such language is +worth noting, for, as has been suggested, the later pseudo-orientalists +thought they must fill their pages with such figures in order to be +“oriental”—a delusion satirized by Goldsmith. “They believe,” he says, +“that in an oriental tale nothing is required but sublimity ... all is +great, obscure, magnificent, and unintelligible.”[100]. + +Not only in language, but also in incident, Hawkesworth is far more +fantastic than either Addison or Johnson. Obidah, in _Obidah, the son of +Abensima, and the Hermit, an Eastern Story_,[101] follows a pleasant but +misleading path, is overtaken by a storm, and meets a Hermit who +preaches to him on the journey of life and the necessity of following +the right road. The _Story of the Shepherds Hamet and Raschid_[102] is +equally brief and unintricate. The fields of the two shepherds, who +lived on the plains of India, were suffering from drought. A genius +appeared with the offer of gifts. Hamet asked a little, steady brook; +Raschid demanded the Ganges. The moral is as prompt and complete as in +an old-fashioned Sunday-school tale. Hamet’s grounds prospered; +Raschid’s were swept away, and—“a crocodile devoured him”! Hawkesworth +is not content with such childlike simplicity. His _Ring of +Amurath_[103] is as ingenious as it is moral. The sultan Amurath is +presented with a magic ring by a Genius, who warns him that the ring +will grow pale and press his finger whenever he sins. Amurath +degenerates into a cruel and sensual tyrant, vainly pursues Selima, the +daughter of his vizier, throws away the painful ring, and is transformed +by the Genius into a “monster of the desert.” Captured and cruelly +abused, he finally saves the life of his keeper, and in reward for this, +his first good act, is changed into a dog. In this form, entering by +chance the city of lawless pleasure, he beholds the horrors of +unrestrained crime, and is poisoned. In his next form, that of a white +dove, he reaches—again by chance—a hermit’s cave, where he beholds +Selima telling her story to the hermit. Amurath feels “the sentiments of +pure affection” and, in consequence, resumes human shape. The hermit, +who is the Genius, preaches a final sermon and dismisses them to reign +over Golconda. They will now be happy, he says, because they have +learned to be wise and virtuous. Equally fantastic and more fortuitous +are the events in the sketch, _Transmigration of a Soul_,[104] a story +told by a flea, a realistic, disagreeable account of cruelties inflicted +by men on animals. Sometimes Hawkesworth’s tales are free from grotesque +fancies, _e.g._ the story of Carazan[105] the miser, who dreams he is +before the Judgment Seat and condemned to eternal solitude. He awakens, +reforms, and gives a great feast to the poor. Such a tale is +commonplace, but in its simplicity is not entirely unimpressive. In the +majority of Hawkesworth’s tales, however, the fantastic elements +predominate. + +Of _Almoran and Hamet_ (1761), the best known of Hawkesworth’s tales +outside of the periodicals, much the same may be said. The story is +similar to _Nouraddin and Amana_, but is more elaborate. The _deus ex +machina_ is a genius who gives supernatural aid to the tyrant Almoran in +pursuing his evil desires. A magic talisman enables Almoran to assume +other persons’ forms, prodigies apparently from heaven alarm his +opponents; yet each of his wishes is frustrated by the virtuous acts of +his brother Hamet and the beautiful Almeida, until in the end he is +metamorphosed into a rock, and they are left to reign in peace. The +oriental colouring is thin and the characterization feeble. Yet the tale +won, for a time, great popularity, due partly to the melodramatic +interest, partly to the moralizing tone.[106] The author discourses on +the essentials of good government, the duties of a king, the question of +immortality, and the idea that the pursuit of pleasure alone defeats its +own end. In certain ways the story reminds one of _Vathek_ and again of +_Seged_.[107] Almoran, like Vathek, longs for the gratification of every +desire. “If I must perish,” said he, “I will at least perish unsubdued. +I will quench no wish that nature kindles in my bosom; nor shall my lips +utter any prayer but for new powers to feed the flame.” In answer to +these words, the Genius appears, “one of those delusive phantoms, which, +under the appearance of pleasure, were leading him to destruction.” Like +Seged, Almoran finds that the deliberate attempt to be happy at any cost +ends in greater pain. Both tales represent an idea that was persistent +in the philosophy of the eighteenth century, and was to find its most +artistic expression in _Rasselas_ and _The Vanity of Human Wishes_. + +Two other moral tales, Langhorne’s _Solyman and Almena_ (1762),[108] and +Mrs. Sheridan’s _Nourjahad_ (1767),[109] similar to Hawkesworth’s +stories, likewise enjoyed considerable popularity. Nourjahad narrates +the experiences of a sultan’s favourite, whose chief desires are +inexhaustible riches and “prolongation of his life to eternity to enjoy +them.” The sultan causes the apparent fulfilment of these wishes, and +Nourjahad rapidly degenerates through selfish indulgence in pleasures of +the senses into an impious and murderous tyrant. His acts are +accompanied by increasing unhappiness: the loss of his mistress, +Mandana, the ingratitude of his son, the desertion of all his servants +except one, Cozro, who acts as his conscience, recapitulates his sins, +and demonstrates that, “by the immutable laws of Heaven ... either in +this world or the next, vice will meet its just reward.” Cozro teaches +the repentant Nourjahad the happiness that comes from generosity to the +poor and suffering, and the faith in one’s own rectitude and in Heaven, +that makes man superior to death. Nourjahad is finally brought to +despise riches; to desire to save Cozro’s life by losing his own; and, +when that is unavailing, to accept the prospect of death rather than +bribe his jailer. At the last moment the sultan reveals to Nourjahad +that he has been disguised as Cozro, that Mandana still lives and has +impersonated Nourjahad’s guardian genius, and that the whole series of +events has been arranged to test and to purify Nourjahad’s character. + +The story has a certain amount of interest. The illusion is well +sustained, and the dénouement comes with considerable force. There is an +attempt at oriental colouring in the descriptions of the omnipotent +sultan, the forests and gardens, the mourning in the city for the +sultan’s death, the bribery of cadi and jailers, and the urns full of +gold pieces and rare jewels in the subterranean treasure-vault. But the +colouring is faint and serves only as a vague background for the story. +There is unity in the development of the central idea of Nourjahad’s +evil desires, their result and his change of heart; there is, however, +no real characterization. The burden of the moral and of the inflated, +pompous diction is heavy, but the narrative is clear and often vivid. + +In _Solyman and Almena_ the oriental colouring is paler even than in +_Nourjahad_. “In the pleasant valley of Mesopotamia on the banks of the +Irwan lived Solyman, son of Ardavan the sage,” who worshipped the sacred +Mithra. Names, places, mention of a few oriental customs like the +suttee, occasional metaphors, suffice in the eyes of the author to make +the tale oriental. His chief delight is to moralize and philosophize in +gentle and leisurely fashion. The story begins with Solyman’s desire to +travel in order to gain knowledge of mankind and of God. It advances +slowly because frequently broken by generalizations, by descriptions of +places like the “frowning” ruins of Persepolis and emotions aroused +thereby, and also by digressions on the state of literature and manners +in England. The extreme sentimentality of the lovers and their floods of +tears often delay the progress of events. The language used is eminently +suitable. When Solyman found that “to all the elegant graces of female +softness, she [Almena] added the virtues of benevolence, his friendship +for her was heightened into the most refined affection.” On the whole, +although the story is stiff, tedious, and over-moralistic, it has an +attractive kind of purity and sweetness like the fragrance from an +old-fashioned garden. + +In many respects similar to the fiction discussed above, but superior in +narrative directness and force is the moral tale by Miss Edgeworth, +_Murad the Unlucky_. It was not published until 1804,[110] and therefore +would fall outside of our study, were it not so similar in character to +the fiction under consideration. The starting point of this story is a +query by the Sultan of Constantinople concerning the tale of _Cogia +Hassan, the Rope-maker, and the Two Friends Saad and Saadi_ in the +_Arabian Nights_. The Sultan, like Haroun Alraschid, is amusing himself +by going at night, in disguise, through the streets of his city. +Recollecting the tale of _Cogia Hassan_, he declares to his companion, +the vizier, that “fortune does more for men than prudence.” The vizier +takes the opposite view and cites as instances two brothers, called +Murad the Unlucky and Saladin the Lucky. The brothers recount the +stories of their lives, and at the close the Sultan says to his vizier: +“I acknowledge that the histories of Saladin the Lucky and Murad the +Unlucky favour your opinion, that prudence has more influence than +chance in human affairs. The success and happiness of Saladin seem to me +to have arisen from his prudence: by that prudence Constantinople has +been saved from flames and from the plague. Had Murad possessed his +brother’s discretion, he would not have been on the point of losing his +head for selling rolls which he did not bake; he would not have been +kicked by a mule or bastinadoed for finding a ring; he would not have +been robbed by one party of soldiers or shot by another; he would not +have been lost in a desert, or cheated by a Jew; he would not have set a +ship on fire; nor would he have caught the plague, and spread it through +Grand Cairo; he would not have run my sultana’s looking-glass through +the body, instead of a robber; he would not have believed that the fate +of his life depended on certain verses on a china vase; nor would he, at +last, have broken this precious talisman by washing it with hot water. +Henceforward, let Murad the Unlucky be named Murad the Imprudent; let +Saladin preserve the surname he merits, and be henceforth called Saladin +the Prudent.”[111] Such a quotation readily shows how far removed from +the _Arabian Nights_ were the moralistic tales, imitating, as they did, +the manner only and not the spirit of their prototypes. + +Of Ridley’s _Tales of the Genii_ (1764),[112] the translation of Le +Camus’s _Abdeker, or the Art of Preserving Beauty_ (1754),[113] and _The +Vizirs, or the Enchanted Labyrinth, an Oriental Tale_ (1774)[114] by +Mme. Fauques de Vaucluse, the same may be said with even greater +emphasis. The subtitle of the first, “Delightful Lessons of Horam the +Son of Asmar,” betrays the author’s purpose, which proves to be to +disguise “the true doctrines of morality under the delightful allegories +of romantic enchantment.” The disguise is thin, though the “enchantment” +is plentiful. Incantations, genii, sudden transformations, flowery +valleys, crystal palaces, deserts, volcanoes, shipwrecks, are all +lavishly employed. The attempt to accumulate horrors results once in +unconscious humour: the description of the “horrid” sorcerer, who lurks +in his lurid den, cherishing “his tube burning with the fœtid herb +tobacco, filling the cave with its poisonous odour.” But the narratives, +in general, are tedious, and the continual moralizing is anything but +“delightful.” _Abdeker_ is also unimportant but curious—an awkward +combination of an Eastern love story with recipes for cosmetics and +lectures on hygiene. The form is a frame-tale in which a few minor +tales, such as _Zinzima and Azor_, are inserted. _The Vizirs_ is a +fanciful, tediously moralized story of the complicated adventures of +several Eastern princes and princesses. + +One curious instance of the general propensity to moralize is _Dinarbas, +a Tale, being a Continuation of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia_ +(1790).[115] The idea of such a sequel was suggested to the author by +Sir John Hawkins’s statement that Dr. Johnson “had an intention of +marrying his hero and placing him in a state of permanent +felicity.”[116] The author’s purpose is to show that love, friendship, +and virtuous, altruistic conduct bring happiness. Rasselas is the hero +of the book; Dinarbas is his friend. Rasselas quells a rebellion against +his father, the Emperor; is falsely accused, imprisoned, and, by aid of +Dinarbas, liberated; succeeds to the throne of Abyssinia, marries the +sister of Dinarbas, and gives his sister Nekayah to Dinarbas. The story +closes with their visit to the Happy Valley to set free its inhabitants. +Throughout the book the author inculcates resignation, rectitude, +courage, usefulness, and other virtues, and endeavours “to afford +consolation or relief to the wretched traveler, terrified and +disheartened at the rugged paths of life.” _Dinarbas_ is obviously +inferior to its predecessor; its value is not literary but historical—as +an evidence of the desire to moralize everything, even the philosophic +tales. + +It is not surprising to find in this period several editions of the +_Fables of Pilpay_ [or _Bidpai_], a version of the ancient _Kalila and +Dimna_, which had been known in England since the Middle Ages. The +moralistic note in addition to the perennial interest of these stories +made an especial appeal to eighteenth-century readers. In 1743 appeared +_The Instructive and Entertaining Fables of Pilpay, an ancient Indian +Philosopher, containing a number of excellent rules for the conduct of +persons of all ages_. London, 1743. As early as 1711 there had appeared +a book of extracts: _Æsop naturaliz’d: in a collection of diverting +fables and stories from Æsop, Lockman, Pilpay, and others_. London, +1711; 1771.[117] + +The name of the minor moralists of this period is Legion. It would be +superfluous to do more than mention briefly the titles of a few works: +_Contentment, a Fable_;[118] _Hassan_ (178-?);[119] _The History of +Arsaces, Prince of Betlis by the editor of Chrysal_ (1774);[120] _The +Caliph of Bagdad, Travels before the Flood, an Interesting Oriental +record of men and manners in the antediluvian world interpreted in +fourteen evening conversations between the Caliph of Bagdad and his +Court, translated from Arabic_ (1796);[121] _The Grateful Turk_, in +_Moral Tales by Esteemed Writers_ (1800?);[122] _Hamet and Selinda an +Eastern Tale_ in _The Baloon or ærostatic Spy, a novel containing a +series of adventures of an aerial traveller_ (1786).[123] + +In the last half of the century several collections of such oriental +tales, chiefly moralistic, were made. “Mr. Addison’s” _Interesting +Anecdotes, memoirs, Allegories, essays, and poetical fragments, tending +to amuse the fancy and inculcate morality_ (1797)[124] in sixteen +volumes, contains a great variety of oriental and unoriental tales +taken, usually without naming the author, from the _Rambler_, the +_Adventurer_, and other sources. A similar collection is _The +Orientalist, a volume of Tales after the Eastern taste, by the author of +Roderick Random, Sir Lancelot Greaves, etc., and Others_ (1773).[125] +Some of these tales are fanciful; many moralizing. One is a direct and +unacknowledged translation of Marmontel’s _Soliman II._[126] No authors’ +names are given. The tales are brief, uninteresting, and, with a few +exceptions such as _Soliman II._, of little value. The tendency, found +in France earlier in the century, to “moralize” oriental stories and +fairy tales for the edification of children is exemplified by a +collection popular for several years after its publication: _The +Blossoms of Morality. Intended for the Amusement and Instruction of +Young Ladies and Gentlemen by the Editor of the Looking Glass for the +Mind_ (1789).[127] In this collection are a few “oriental” tales, _e.g._ +_The Pleasures of Contentment_, a “tedious brief” story of the good +vizier Alibeg, unjustly exiled, discovered contentedly living as a +hermit, surrounded by affectionate domestic animals. Recalled to office +by popular demand, Alibeg sheds a few tears upon leaving his pastoral +retreat, but returns to the city, rules wisely, and is content always +and everywhere. The same collection contains _An Oriental Tale_; +_Generosity Rewarded_; _The Anxieties of Royalty_; _The Generous +Punishment_;—all, tales with “oriental” traces;—and _The Beautiful +Statue_, a diluted version of the admirable tale of _Zeyn Alasnam_ in +the _Arabian Nights_, pitiably moralized. Finally, _The Oriental +Moralist_ appeared, in which “_the Beauties of the Arabian Nights’ +Entertainments_” were “accompanied with suitable reflections adapted to +each story,” by the Rev. Mr. Cooper (1790?).[128] The editor’s preface +needs no comment: “During a trip which I lately made to the Continent, I +accidentally met with (at an Inn where I had occasion to halt a short +time) a French edition of the _Arabian Nights’ Entertainments_; having +no other book at hand I was induced to wade through it. When I had +finished ... it struck my imagination, that those tales might be +compared to a once rich and luxuriant garden, neglected and run to +waste, where scarce anything strikes the common observer but the weeds +and briars with which it is overrun, whilst the more penetrating eye of +the experienced gardener discovers ... some ... delightful flowers. Full +of this idea, I determined to turn florist, and to traverse this wild +and unweeded spot with a cautious and discriminating eye, ... to cull a +pleasing nosegay for my youthful friends. Quitting the simile, I have +endeavoured to select a few of the most interesting tales, have given +them a new dress in point of language, and have carefully expurgated +everything that could give the least offense to the most delicate +reader. Not satisfied barely with these views, I have added many moral +reflections, wherever the story would admit of them. I have, in many +instances, considerably altered the fables, and have given them a turn, +which appeared to me the most likely to promote the love of virtue, to +fortify the youthful heart against the impressions of vice, and to point +out to them the paths which lead to peace, happiness, and honour.” In +accordance with this purpose Cooper gave the following new ending to +_Aladdin_: “Sir, said the Sultana, after she had finished the story of +the Wonderful Lamp, your majesty, without doubt, has observed, in the +person of the African magician, a man abandoned to the passion of +possessing immense treasures by the most horrid and detestable means. On +the contrary, your majesty sees in Aladdin a person of mean birth, +raised to the regal dignity, making use of the same treasures ... just +as he had occasion for them, or when an opportunity offered of applying +them to the relief of the necessitous, or in rewarding industry and +encouraging the practice of virtue.” After that, the instant execution +of the Sultana would have been, on the part of his majesty, justifiable +homicide. Hawkesworth, in the concluding number of the _Adventurer_, +confesses—hardly to the surprise of the reader who has perused the +previous one hundred and thirty-nine essays—that he is a moral writer, +and that he has found it necessary, in writing for “the Young and the +Gay,” to amuse the imagination “while approaching the heart.” The editor +of the _Observer_ declares that simply to say that he has “written +nothing but with a moral design would be saying very little, for it is +not the vice of the time to countenance publications of an opposite +tendency; to administer moral precepts through a pleasing medium seems +now the general study of our essayists, dramatists, and novelists, ... +to bind the rod of the moralist with the roses of the muse.” Beyond such +didacticism no moralist could go. + +If we pause to consider the Moralistic Group as a whole, our strongest +impression is that of the general paucity of literary merit. Aside from +Parnell’s _Hermit_, Marmontel’s _contes_, some of the tales quoted by +Addison and Steele, and the _Fables of Bidpai_, there is nothing of +noticeable intrinsic value. The moral oriental tales composed by +Addison, Johnson, and Miss Edgeworth are the least valuable part of +their work, far inferior, for instance, to the philosophic oriental +tales, _The Vision of Mirza_ and _Rasselas_. Only unusual genius can +make an art of moralizing. Average writers,—like the authors of the +fifteenth-century morality plays or the eighteenth-century moralists +when they turned to oriental fiction,—in their desire to express a +universal truth concerning human character or conduct, eliminate so many +individualizing traits that their personages become mere abstractions. +They do not know the secret of embodying these abstract ideas in +concrete and appropriate types, and hence their work lacks the beauty +and universal human interest of the _Pilgrim’s Progress_, the _Faerie +Queene_, or the parables of Scripture. Yet the minor writers of any +period—and the same is true of minor works by great writers—frequently +reflect most clearly the current opinions of their age.[129] For that +reason the Moralistic Group of oriental tales possesses a distinct +historical value. + + + + + CHAPTER III + THE PHILOSOPHIC GROUP + + +The Philosophic Group of oriental tales is in number far smaller and in +literary value far more considerable than the Moralistic. Here, again, +Addison was the guide, using several oriental stories to illustrate +philosophical ideas and composing one famous oriental tale, or rather +sketch, _The Vision of Mirza_.[130] The _Vision_ is so familiar and so +accessible that any detailed account of it would be superfluous. Mirza, +from the topmost pinnacle of the high hills of Bagdad, beholds +multitudes passing over the bridge of life, which spans a part of the +great tide of eternity. Sooner or later all fall from the bridge and are +borne out into the thick mist toward either the islands of the blest or +the dark clouds beyond the rock of adamant. By means of this vision, +Mirza realizes the vicissitudes of life, the certainty of death, the +consolation of faith, and the mystery enveloping man’s existence. It is +Addison’s way of saying “From the great deep to the great deep he +goes.”[131]. The form of the _Vision_ is simplicity and clearness +itself. The language, lucid and direct, displays Addison’s +characteristic restraint in the use of oriental ornament and imagery. +The literary value of _The Vision of Mirza_ as an oriental tale lies +less in the specific detail of oriental colouring than in the general +impression of beauty and of awe. “But instead of the rolling tide, the +arched bridge, and the happy islands, I saw nothing but the long hollow +valley of Bagdat, with oxen, sheep, and camels, grazing upon the sides +of it,”—a serene English valley, orientalized only by the name _Bagdat_ +and the presence of the camels. And yet, if the oriental elements were +cut away from _The Vision of Mirza_, the picturesque attributes of the +central metaphor, the bridge of human life, would go, for they are drawn +from the Mahometan tradition of the bridge “Al Sirát,” laid across hell, +“finer than a hair and sharper than the edge of a sword,” over which the +souls of men pass,—the good to the Mahometan paradise, the wicked to +hell, which is encircled by a wall of adamant. Moreover, the quiet, +cumulative force of one slight stroke of oriental imagery after another +produces a sense of remoteness and stimulates the imagination, +especially when the phrases echo Biblical cadences and thus attain an +added solemnity. “‘Surely,’ said I, ‘man is but a shadow and life a +dream....’ ‘The valley that thou seest,’ said he, ‘is the vale of +misery, and the tide of water that thou seest, is part of the great tide +of eternity....’ ‘I wished for the wings of an eagle that I might fly +away to those happy seats; but the genius told me there was no passage +to them except through the gates of death.’” + +The other philosophic oriental tales in the Addisonian periodicals +illustrate various themes: the transitoriness of life, the subjectivity +of time, personal identity, and so on. Frequent phrases suggest that in +oriental thought and imagery what appealed most forcibly to Addison’s +reverent nature was “likeness to those beautiful metaphors in +scripture.”[132] One brief story is told by him to illustrate the figure +“where life is termed a pilgrimage, and those who pass through it are +called strangers and sojourners upon earth,” and to conclude an essay on +the value of contemplating the transitoriness of human life. A dervish +mistakes a palace for an inn, and when the king asks an explanation, +replies by a series of questions leading up to an admirable climax. +“‘Sir,’ says the Dervish, ‘give me leave to ask your Majesty a question +or two. Who were the persons that lodged in this house when it was first +built?’ The King replied, his ancestors. ‘And who,’ says the Dervish, +‘was the last person that lodged here?’ The King replied, his father. +‘And who is it,’ says the Dervish, ‘that lodges here at present?’ The +King told him that it was he himself. ‘And who,’ says the Dervish, ‘will +be here after you?’ The King answered, the young Prince, his son. ‘Ah, +Sir,’ said the Dervish, ‘a house that changes its inhabitants so often +and receives such a perpetual succession of guests, is not a Palace, but +a Caravansary.’”[133] The oriental colouring here is slightly stronger +than in _The Vision of Mirza_. The dervish, “traveling through Tartary,” +arrived “at the town of Balk, ... laid down his wallet and spread his +carpet in order to repose himself upon it, after the manner of Eastern +nations.” The notion of the subjectivity of time as set forth by Locke +is exemplified in the account of Mahomet’s journey to the seven heavens +in the twinkling of an eye,[134] as well as by the adventures of the +Sultan of Egypt.[134] The latter story, drawn from the _Turkish Tales_, +is interestingly told, though shorn of most of its picturesque details. +From the _Persian Tales_ an unknown contributor to the _Spectator_ takes +the story of _Fadlallah and Zemroude_, and introduces it by a quotation +from “Mr. Locke” on personal identity and by these remarks: “I was +mightily pleased by a story in some measure applicable to this piece of +philosophy, which I read the other day in the _Persian Tales_, as they +are lately very well translated by Mr. Philips ... these stories are +writ after the Eastern manner, but somewhat more correct.”[135] The +writer chastens the style of his quotation still further by eliminating +many of the imaginative elements for the sake of the “piece of +philosophy.” The idea of perpetual suspense is illustrated by reference +not only to the mediæval ass between two bundles of hay but also to +Mahomet’s coffin suspended in midair by magnets.[136] The misery and +ingratitude of humanity is shown by a vision.[137] The conception of the +development of philosophy and virtue in a man on a desert island, guided +by “the pure light and universal benevolence of nature,”[138] is given +as a quotation from an Arabian author. It calls to mind Mrs. Behn’s +_Oroonoko_ and his successor, the “natural man” of the eighteenth +century. In all these narratives or fragments of narratives the tone is +speculative rather than directly didactic, but all except _Fadlallah and +Zemroude_ are used to point a moral. With one exception, all the +philosophical and moral ideas in the twenty-nine oriental tales found in +these early periodicals, from the opening number of the _Tatler_, in +1709, to the last issue of the _Freeholder_, in 1716, are either +noticeably English in character or else universal ideas, common to +English and oriental thought. The one exception[139] is the doctrine of +transmigration of souls, which has been attributed to oriental +philosophy. Yet this doctrine is Pythagorean as well as oriental, and +the ultimate source, though possibly oriental, is unknown. In general +the philosophizing in the periodicals is along the lines of universal +thought, expressed in a thoroughly English and Addisonian manner. + +In the philosophic as in the moralistic tales the most famous of +Addison’s successors was Dr. Johnson. As suggested above,[140] the +difference in temperament between the two men is clearly reflected in +their periodicals. Addison’s lighter touch and buoyant spirit are +replaced in the _Rambler_ and the _Idler_ by Johnson’s heavier style and +more uniformly serious purpose. And yet the _Rambler_ and its imitators +have much in common with the earlier group. The similarity is especially +noticeable in those parts of Johnson’s work that are deliberate and +conscious imitations. Addison had used the oriental tale among other +devices to convey instruction under the guise of amusement; Johnson did +likewise. The story of _Ortogrul of Basra_[141] distinctly recalls +Addison’s oriental tales. The scene is laid in Bagdad, and the narrative +opens with an account of Ortogrul wandering in “the tranquillity of +meditation” along the streets. He is taught the value of slow and +constant industry by a dream, in which, like Mirza, he beholds a vision +from a hilltop. The genius in _Mirza_ is replaced by the father of +Ortogrul, who directs the latter’s gaze to an ineffectual torrent and to +a slow but sure “rivulet,” and points the moral. For local colour in +these tales Johnson is satisfied with vague allusions such as that to +the vizier’s return from the divan to spacious apartments in his palace, +hung with golden tapestry and carpeted with silk. Dates, places, and +oriental customs are likewise indistinct. “In the reign of Zenghis Can,” +“Samarcand,” “Arabia,” “the emirs and viziers, the sons of valour and of +wisdom, that stand at the corners of the Indian throne, to assist the +Councils,”—such brief references suffice for Johnson’s purpose. Like +Addison, too, Johnson feels that an oriental tale demands elevated and +dignified diction, Biblical imagery, and the abstract, general term +instead of the concrete. + +But there the likeness ends, for Johnson’s early oriental tales, far +more than any of his other writings, are embellished with peculiarly +Johnsonian Latin derivatives and resounding antitheses. Sometimes the +style gains by these means the added force and dignity purposed by the +author. “In the height of my power, I said to defamation, who will hear +thee? and to artifice, what canst thou perform?”... “The clouds of +sorrow gathered round his head.” But often this attempt at rhetorical +ornamentation results in bombast and unintentional humour: “The curls of +beauty fell from his head;” “the voracious grave is howling for its +prey;” “he practised the smile of universal courtesy;” “a frigorific +torpor encroaches upon my veins.” In _Ortogrul_, Johnson goes even to +this extreme in describing the rich vizier’s life: “The dishes of Luxury +cover his table, the voice of Harmony lulls him in his bowers; he +breathes the fragrance of the groves of Java, and sleeps upon the down +of the cygnets of Ganges.” Grandiloquence of this sort takes the place +of detail in description. When Johnson wishes to depict an Eastern +princess, he portrays her “sitting on a throne, attired in the robe of +royalty, and shining with the jewels of Golconda; command sparkled in +her eyes and dignity towered on her forehead.” Such a description is +eminently in keeping with Johnson’s didactic purpose. Didactic in the +_Rambler_ Johnson always is. “Instruction,” in Boswell’s words, “is the +predominant purpose of the _Rambler_,”[142]—instruction, whether +directly inculcating morality, as in the moralistic tales, or indirectly +setting forth some philosophic idea connected with human conduct, as in +the six so-called philosophic tales. Yet, even in the latter group, +Johnson’s speculation is always concerned with questions of vital +interest to mankind, and hence in the deepest sense moral questions. In +all of his fiction, moralistic teachings are present, whether explicit +or implicit, although less prominent than the philosophic ideas. + +Frequently pompous in diction and artificial in manner, these stories, +nevertheless, do not lack a certain impressive simplicity in their +presentation of various aspects of Johnson’s earnest philosophy of life. +His convictions of the vanity of accumulating riches, expecting +gratitude, seeking happiness, desiring fame, forming a definite plan for +one’s life, are all found here and are all variations on his favourite +theme: the vanity of human wishes. But, even in these short stories, +Johnson reveals two other equally characteristic aspects of his +philosophy: religious faith, and brave insistence on duty. _Nouradin the +Merchant and his son Almamoulin_, which forms the whole of the +_Rambler_, No. 120, is prefaced by quotations on virtue, and teaches the +vanity of gathering riches. _Morad the son of Hanuth and his son +Abonzaid_[143] sets forth the vanity of labours that wish to be rewarded +by gratitude, and concludes that the only satisfactory aim of life is to +please God. _Seged, Lord of Ethiopia, and his efforts to be happy_,[144] +is obviously an earlier draft of _Rasselas_.[145] Seged, having +fulfilled all his duties as king, determined to retire for ten days from +the cares of state, in order to be happy for that short interval. He +commanded “the house of pleasure built in an island of the Lake Dambia, +to be prepared,” and endeavoured to gratify every desire. But the first +day there were so many pleasures to choose from that the day slipped by +without a choice; and the other days were marred by accidents, a bad +dream, tyranny, envy among those whom he sought to please, by the memory +of a defeat, and finally by the death of his daughter. Hence the king +concluded: “Let no man ever presume to say, ‘This day shall be a day of +happiness.’” The narrative is better than in the other tales; it +possesses more unity and more interest. The oriental setting is slight, +the descriptions are vague, and emphasis is thrown upon the unadorned +theme. The strength of the story lies in the force of this theme and the +sympathetic account of Seged’s successive feelings. It is interesting to +find Johnson meditating on these questions seven years before writing +_Rasselas_. Two other tales, published after _Rasselas_, treat of +similar ideas. _Gelalledin_[146] is like a part of the story of Imlac in +_Rasselas_. Gelalledin, the learned youth, refused a professor’s chair +in hopes of returning to his native city “to dazzle and instruct,” but +when he returned, was unnoticed and ignored. _Omar, Son of Hassan_,[147] +the good and wise servant of the caliph, tells the plan he made in youth +for his life: ten years study; ten years travel; marriage, and +retirement from court. But he “trifled away the years of improvement,” +and each part of his plan was frustrated. Terrestrial happiness is +short, and it is vanity to plan life according to one’s wishes,—surely +an echo of the theme of _Rasselas_. + +The imitators of Johnson apparently found it easier to write moralistic +than philosophic tales. At least this is true of the editor of the +_Adventurer_, who was so voluminous a moralist. Only one of his stories, +_Almet the Dervise_,[148] can be called philosophic, and even here the +author moralizes throughout. The title given the essay is _The Value of +Life fixed by Hope and Fear and therefore dependent upon the Will: an +Eastern story_. Almet is taught by an angel, who shows him in a vision a +fair landscape and an “austere” scene and comments on them. Like +Johnson, Hawkesworth employs oriental colouring sparingly. He exerts his +imagination upon the picture of the dervish Almet watching the sacred +lamp in the sepulcher of the prophet and, after the angel has vanished, +finding himself at the temple porch in the serene twilight. One other +imitation of Johnson’s philosophic tales is Goldsmith’s _Asem, an +Eastern Tale: or a vindication of the wisdom of Providence in the moral +government of the world_.[149] Asem is taught by the customary vision +and Genius. Goldsmith’s fancy, not content with the conventional +introduction, pictures the Genius walking over the lake and guiding Asem +to a beautiful country beneath its depths. The lucid style and the +occasional satire, characteristic of the author, serve to distinguish +this sketch from those of his predecessors. + +We have spoken of the development of the philosophic oriental tale from +Addison’s _Vision of Mirza_ on through Johnson’s work in the _Rambler_ +and the _Idler_ to Hawkesworth’s and Goldsmith’s imitations. There +remain to be considered the translations from Voltaire, especially +_Zadig_, and the most important philosophical oriental tale of the +period, Johnson’s _Rasselas_. But before examining these books, which +carry on the philosophizing tendency to its culmination, it may be well +to mention two works, somewhat apart from the general current, yet +warranting a brief digression. + +One is a pseudo-translation: _The Bonze, or Chinese Anchorite_;[150] the +other, a genuine translation from the Arabic, _The Life of Hai Ebn +Yokdhan_. The full title of the latter reads:[151] _The Improvement of +Human Reason, Exhibited in the Life of Hai Ebn Yokdhan: Written in +Arabick above 500 years ago, by Abu Jaafar Ebn Tophail, In which is +demonstrated, By what Methods one may, by the meer Light of Nature, +attain the Knowledg of things Natural and Supernatural; more +particularly the Knowledg of God, and the Affairs of another Life, +Illustrated with proper Figures. Newly Translated from the Original +Arabick, by Simon Ockley, A. M. Vicar of Swavesey in Cambridgshire. With +an Appendix, In which the Possibility of Man’s attaining the True +Knowledge of God, and Things necessary to Salvation, without +Instruction, is briefly consider’d_. London ... 1708. The bookseller’s +preface to the reader summarizes the author’s purpose and outlines the +story with sufficient clearness: “The Design of the Author (who was a +Mahometan Philosopher) is to shew how Humane Reason may, by Observation +and Experience, arrive at the Knowledge of Natural Things, and from +thence to Supernatural; particularly the Knowledge of God and a Future +State. And in order to [do] this, he supposes a Person brought up by +himself, where he was altogether destitute of any Instruction, but what +he could get from his own Observation. He lays the scene in some +Fortunate Island, situate under the Equinoctial; where he supposes this +Philosopher, either to have been bred (according to _Avicen’s_ +Hypothesis, who conceiv’d a Possibility of a Man’s being form’d by the +Influence of the Planets upon Matter rightly disposed) without either +Father or Mother; or else expos’d in his Infancy, and providentially +suckled by a Roe. Not that our Author believ’d any such matter, but only +having design’d to contrive a convenient place for his Philosopher, so +as to leave him to Reason by himself, and make his Observations without +any Guide.... Then he shews by what Steps ... he advanc’d ... till at +last he perceived the Necessity of acknowledging an Infinite, Eternal, +Wise Creator, and also the Immateriality and Immortality of his own +Soul, and that its Happiness consisted only in a continued Conjunction +with this supream Being.” The bookseller continues with a comment to +which the reader will assent: “The Matter of this Book is curious.” One +interesting description of the solitary hero’s method of making himself +comfortable on the island recalls _Robinson Crusoe_, and as this book +appeared only eleven years before _Crusoe_, the passage may possibly +have been seen by Defoe. Hai Ebn Yokdhan, by the time he was twenty-one +years old, “had made abundance of pretty Contrivances. He made himself +both Cloaths and Shoes of the Skins of such Wild Beasts as he had +dissected. His thread was made of Hair, and of the Bark of ... +Plants.... He made awls of sharp Thorns.... He learn’d the Art of +Building from the Observations he made upon the Swallows Nests.... +He ... made a Door ... of Canes twisted together ... etc.”[152] One +other passage of interest is the account of his mystical trance.[153] He +prepared himself by abstinence and by “Imitation of the Heavenly Bodies” +in three respects, first in exercising beneficence toward animals and +plants, second in keeping himself “clear, bright, and pure” like the +light, third in “practising a circular motion” until dizziness weakened +his bodily faculties and purified his spirit.[154] By such means and by +constant meditation, he at last attained to the sight of perfect vision +in the highest sphere. There he beheld the reflection of the divine +glory, the perfection of beauty, splendour, and joy; and after that, the +successive reflections of the divine essence in the other heavenly +spheres. Thus he came to realize the dependence of all created things on +the “one, true, necessary, self-existent” First Cause: and saw that this +world followed “the Divine World as a Shadow does the Body.” The story +concludes with an account of the friendship formed by the philosopher +with a holy man who came to the island, and of their “serving God ... +till they died.” In addition to the slight resemblance to _Robinson +Crusoe_ noted above, the book possesses interest as a link between the +work of seventeenth-century orientalists like Dr. Pococke[155] and the +oriental tales of our period; and also as an example of the exaltation +of the “natural man” found earlier in _Oroonoko_ and later in the works +of Rousseau. + +_The Bonze_ is more curious but less valuable. It is an odd medley of +moralistic and philosophic rhapsodies on all sorts of subjects,—the +Trinity, Lucifer, Adam’s fall,—combined with sentimental and coarse +love-tales concerning the Chinese prince Zangola’s transmigrations, and +recounted in a vision to the sage Confuciango. The style is so atrocious +as to be amusing, _e.g._ the “gay pomposity” of the peacock’s “beauteous +tail,” “horrific scenes,” “old dreadful tygers” [_sic_], the “elegance +of heaven,” and “the hideous tenebrosity of hell.” “Elegance” of every +kind is frequent. “Never before was my heart susceptible of such elegant +feelings.” “Methought mortality fell from me like the catterpiller’s +[_sic_] form, when he becomes invested with elegance, and shaking his +golden wings, disdaining earth, he flies exulting towards heaven.” But +when the writer goes so far as to describe “a sunrise, orientally +decorated,” one is irresistibly reminded of Fielding’s cheerful parodies +of flamboyant preambles in, for example, the opening paragraph of Chap. +II., Book IV., of _Tom Jones_: “A short hint of what we can do in the +sublime, and a description of Miss Sophia Western.” _The Bonze_ in +extravagance thus occupies a unique, if insignificant, place among the +philosophic tales. Like them it discusses questions such as the origin +of evil and the search for happiness, attempts but little local colour, +and regards the East as “romantic” and “barbaric,”—words at that time +almost synonymous. “He received me in as kind a manner as it is possible +for a mere barbarian.” “There was a romantic palace in the free taste of +China, which, tied to no partial rules, admitted all the beauties of +architecture.” The attitude of the writer is one of apologetic +admiration of objects and ideas so foreign to eighteenth-century +standards. But _The Bonze_, despite its aim to “mingle instruction with +delight in hope to gain the smile of approbation,” stands at one side in +any general view of the philosophic oriental tale, and serves to bring +into greater prominence the real value of such works as Voltaire’s +_Zadig_ and Johnson’s _Rasselas_. + +In France, the _Conte Philosophique_, founded by Voltaire, had been one +of the most notable imitations of the genuine oriental tale. In 1749, +only a year after the first complete French edition appeared, +_Zadig_[156] was translated into English. The popularity it attained in +England was due in part to the fact that one of its chapters, _The +Hermit_, was based on the poem by Thomas Parnell,[157] in part to the +fame of Voltaire, and chiefly to the character of the book itself. +Abounding in wit, humour, and philosophy,—qualities enhanced by +Voltaire’s keen and brilliant style,—_Zadig_ has a permanent value, +visible even through the medium of translation. There is a slight but +sufficiently firm thread of story,—the love of Zadig for the queen,—and +on this are strung Zadig’s separate and vari-coloured adventures. The +discovery of the king’s lost palfrey by circumstantial evidence, Zadig’s +pretense at worshiping candles to rebuke his idolatrous master, the +frustrated attempt of Zadig’s affectionate wife to cut off his nose, his +rescue from death by a parrot’s finding his verses, the fantastic scene +of the maidens in a meadow searching for a basilisk,—such incidents are +cleverly told, and even in the English version show something of the wit +of the original French. The main story has a good climax and a happy +dénouement. Voltaire’s clever manipulation of oriental colouring +apparently contributed not a little to the immediate popularity of both +the French and the English versions. By the time _Zadig_ appeared,[158] +the European critic of manners and thought in the disguise of an +Oriental had become a conventional type in the oriental tale.[159] +_Zadig_ is a variant on the theme of the _Lettres Persanes_. Voltaire is +a more subtle satirist in that he does not locate his Oriental in Paris, +but in Babylon. Hence, like Swift’s satires, Voltaire’s criticisms of +European customs, because ostensibly remote and not aimed at Europe, are +the more penetrating. “That show of insignificant words which in Babylon +they called polite conversation.”... “They would not suffer him to open +his mouth in his own vindication. His pocket-book was sufficient +evidence against him. So strict were the Babylonish laws.” Zadig is, of +course, Voltaire himself, and the other characters with fanciful +“oriental” names—Arimanzes, Astarte, Seloc—are said to be Voltaire’s +court enemies and friends. Like the similar device in the pastoral, this +gave piquancy to the narrative. Voltaire’s twofold aim, to be the +entertaining story-teller and the satirical philosopher, is discernible +on every page, and his light and facile use of oriental setting is not +unlike Goldsmith’s in _The Citizen of the World_. He lays the scene in +Babylon or Egypt, the Indies or Memphis, and mentions Siberia and +Scythia to add to the sense of remoteness. His characters wear turbans +and sandals, travel on the “swiftest dromedaries” and camels, are sold +as slaves to an Arab merchant, are threatened with the bowstring and +poisoned cup. The “fair coquet” insists that the old and gouty chief +Magus shall “dance a saraband” before her, and the beautiful Almona is +rescued from the suttee by the ability of Zadig. Besides such references +to Eastern customs, there are quotations of proverbs and of Zoroastrian +precepts, and various references to religious beliefs and observances, +_e.g._ the bridge of death, the angel Azrael, Oromazdes, and temple +worship. Chap. XI., _The Evening’s Entertainment_, treats of ideas found +also in Voltaire’s _Fragments historiques sur l’Inde_: the worship of +one God under the symbol of fire by the ancient Persians; of one supreme +Deity under various symbols by the Egyptians, etc. A heated discussion +takes place between an Egyptian, an Indian, a Greek, and others as to +the superior claims of their respective religions. They are finally +brought by Zadig’s sense and tact to acknowledge that, in truth, they +all worship the Supreme Creator as behind and above all symbols.[160] By +this mockery of oriental fanaticism, Voltaire is actually satirizing +European bigotry and unreason. In a similar manner he strikes at the +metaphysicians. Zadig “was well instructed in the science of the ancient +Chaldeans ... and understood as much of metaphysics as any that have +lived after him,—that is to say, he knew very little about it.” And, +aiming ostensibly at the mercenary selfishness of the Babylonian +courtiers, Voltaire hits the sycophants of the French court. The king +ordered Zadig’s fine of four hundred ounces to be restored to him. +“Agreeable to his Majesty’s commands, the clerk of the court, the +tipstaffs, and the other petty officers, waited on Zadig ... to refund +the four hundred ounces of gold; modestly reserving only three hundred +and ninety ounces, to defray the fees of the court and other expenses.” +The inconsistency of the oriental freebooter who thought it wrong for +the rich, but quite right for himself, to get and keep wealth, might +easily have found a parallel in France. “I was distracted to see” (he +says) “in a wide world which ought to be divided fairly among mankind, +that Fate had reserved so small a portion for me.” Other themes +illustrated are the misery caused by tyrants; the injustice of the +social structure; the fickleness of women who protest too much; and +above all the question of the part played in human life by destiny,—the +apparent supremacy of Chance, and the real supremacy of a foreknowing +and overruling Providence. Zadig’s adventures hinge upon trivial +happenings, and hence he doubts Providence, until the angel, disguised +as a hermit, teaches him.[161] We have spoken of Voltaire’s facile use +of oriental colouring. But in _Zadig_ few figures of speech occur. On +one occasion Zadig addresses the judges as “glorious stars of justice,” +and “mirrors of equity.” Such figures, however, are rare, a fact the +more remarkable since Voltaire considered the immoderate use of metaphor +one of the chief characteristics of oriental writing,[162] and another +instance of the way in which he subordinated the oriental setting to his +serious purpose. + +Besides _Zadig_, several other _contes philosophiques_ by Voltaire were +early translated into English. In the majority of them, literary and +social satire predominates over philosophical speculation, and therefore +these tales may best be classified among the Satiric Group in Chap. IV. +But in two, though satire is present, speculation is predominant: _The +World as it Goes_, (1754)[163] and _The Good Bramin_ (1763).[164] Both +are brief. The latter is a sketch of a good Bramin who had studied much +and, in his own estimation, learned nothing. Hence he was unhappy, yet +he preferred his condition to that of an old woman, who lived near him, +contented because ignorant. In conclusion the author states that he has +been unable to find any philosopher who would accept happiness on the +terms of being ignorant. All men seem to set a greater value on reason +than on happiness. Is not that folly? _The World as it Goes_ is an +account of a visit to Persepolis, _i.e._ Paris, by Babouc the Scythian, +sent by the genie Ithuriel to observe the inhabitants in order to assist +Ithuriel in deciding whether or not to destroy Persepolis. Babouc +observed soldiers, church-goers, lawyers, merchants, magi, men of +letters, and women. In each group he found both good and bad qualities +so mingled that he wavered back and forth in his judgment, and finally +grew fond of a city, “the inhabitants of which were polite, affable, and +beneficent, though fickle, slanderous, and vain.” When obliged to report +to the angel, he presented him with a little statue made of base metals, +gold, and jewels. “Wilt thou break,” said he to Ithuriel, “this pretty +statue because it is not wholly composed of gold and diamonds?” Ithuriel +understood, and resolved to spare the city and to leave “the world as it +goes.” “For,” he said, “if all is not well, all is passable.” Except for +these _contes_ by Voltaire, no philosophic oriental tales of any +importance were translated from the French. The current tended, in fact, +the other way. English tales, both moralistic and philosophic, were +translated and adapted for use in _Les Mercures de France_. + +Of the philosophic oriental tales composed in English, _Rasselas_ +(1759),[165] the most important, remains to be discussed. The +culmination of the fiction in the _Rambler_ and the _Idler_, this brief +sketch may be regarded as the best type of the serious English oriental +tale. Written immediately after the death of Johnson’s mother, it +expresses the substance of the author’s somber philosophy of life. +Though darkened by his immediate grief, the philosophy is essentially +the same as that revealed in his conversations and his verse. The theme +of the tale can hardly be stated in a better phrase than “The Vanity of +Human Wishes.” Rasselas, confined in the Happy Valley all the days of +his youth, realizes that the gratification of desire does not confer +lasting happiness; and, with his sister Nekayah and two other +companions, escapes into the world only to discover unhappiness +everywhere. Unable to obtain even his wish to govern a little kingdom +beneficently, he resolves to return to Abyssinia. In sight of this +conclusion, the princess Nekayah significantly declares: “The choice of +life is become less important. I hope hereafter to think only on the +choice of eternity.” + +The story is broken by continual philosophizing, or rather the +philosophizing—to the author more important—is held together by the +slender thread of narrative. Serious and leisurely conversations held by +Rasselas with his companions turn upon the problems of government; the +characteristics of melancholia; the mysterious causes of good and evil; +the immortality of the soul; and, most frequently, the impossibility of +attaining happiness. One of the chief reasons for discontent is the lack +of free choice. “Very few ... live by choice. Every man is placed in his +present condition by causes which acted without his foresight and with +which he did not always willingly coöperate; and therefore you will +rarely meet one who does not think the lot of his neighbours better than +his own.” Each endeavour of Rasselas to find a happy man is +unsuccessful. “The young men of spirit and gaiety,” whose only business +is pleasure, are not happy; shepherds in the much-praised pastoral life +and courtiers in gay society are envious and discontented; hermits are +at heart unhappy, and so are the sages who trust in empty and eloquent +commonplaces on the superiority of reason; men who advise living +“according to nature” attain only a false content. “Marriage has many +pains, but celibacy has no pleasures;” old age is darkened by loneliness +and disappointed hopes; happiness itself is the cause of keenest misery +to the man who has loved and lost a friend, and “human life is +everywhere a state in which much is to be endured and little to be +enjoyed.” + +The mitigating circumstance which affords this little enjoyment is the +power of man to attain knowledge and to retain integrity. An educated +intellect and a quiet conscience go far, in Johnson’s estimation, +towards winning serenity and patience. “Knowledge” includes poetry; the +poet Imlac is a man of learning, a scholar; and poetry is “considered as +the highest learning and regarded with a veneration....” The poet should +educate himself by study and by observation until he is able to fulfil +his function “as the interpreter of nature and the legislator of +mankind, ... presiding over the thoughts and manners of future +generations, ... a being superior to time and place.” To Johnson, +thoroughly convinced that life ought to be viewed from the moralistic +side, knowledge is valuable only when ideas are applied to life, and his +philosophizing continually verges towards the dividing line between +speculation and conduct. He rebukes those who, while “making the choice +of life,” “neglect to live”; those who, like Rasselas, pass “four months +in resolving to lose no more time in idle resolves”; he inculcates +employment as the best cure for sorrow; perseverance, courage, and +honesty as essentials of character; and concludes that “all that virtue +can afford is quietness of conscience and a steady prospect of a happier +state; this may enable us to endure calamity with patience, but remember +that patience must suppose pain.” + +This fundamental characteristic of Johnson’s philosophy of life—the +sense of the consolation offered to man in the midst of mystery and +unhappiness by virtue, by knowledge, and by faith in a future +existence—renders interesting a comparison of _Rasselas_ and +_Candide_.[166] The two _contes philosophiques_ were published almost +simultaneously,[167] and show striking points of similarity and of +difference. Johnson’s reverent manner, for instance, is opposed to +Voltaire’s habitual mockery; yet Johnson sometimes satirizes shams with +savage irony, and Voltaire, underneath his mockery, has an honest +reverence for the truth. Both are absolutely independent and fearless in +facing intellectual or philosophic problems. + +The themes of _Rasselas_ and _Candide_ are strikingly similar. In this +enigmatical world, says Voltaire, which is full of unhappiness due to +misfortune and crime, optimism is false and futile. Candide spends his +sheltered youth in a castle which he is taught to believe blindly is the +most magnificent of all castles in the best of all possible worlds,—an +environment of ideas as artificial as the Happy Valley is for Rasselas, +and affording an equally sharp contrast to the real life outside. For +the Happy Valley, if we look for the meaning of Johnson’s allegory, +signifies the environment, whether inherited or self-made, of the +extreme optimist. Rasselas has the optimistic temperament, hopeful, +charitable, saying confidently: “Surely happiness is somewhere to be +found.” The other inhabitants of the Happy Valley, who enter it +voluntarily and can never leave it, may be likened to optimists like Dr. +Pangloss, Candide’s base and foolish tutor, whose blindness is the +darker because self-imposed,—none so blind as those who will not see. +Gradually the conviction is borne in upon Rasselas that every search for +happiness is futile, and his efforts end in a “conclusion in which +nothing is concluded.” The disillusionment of Candide, less profound +than that of Rasselas, is more bitter because based on intimate and +vivid experiences of crime and horrors. + +_Rasselas_ is Voltairean not only in general theme but also in several +specific ideas. Johnson treats with keen satire the philosopher who +“looked round him with a placid air and enjoyed the consciousness of his +own beneficence,” after exhorting men to “live according to nature.” +Rasselas respectfully asked him to define his terms, whereupon he +enlarged as follows: “‘To live according to nature is to act always with +due regard to the fitness arising from the relations ... of cause and +effects; to concur with the great ... scheme of universal felicity; to +coöperate with the general disposition and tendency of the present +system of things.’ The prince found that this was one of the sages whom +he should understand less as he heard him longer. He therefore bowed and +was silent; and the philosopher, supposing him satisfied, and the rest +vanquished, rose up and departed with the air of a man that had +coöperated with the present system.” The irony of Voltaire finds an echo +in Imlac’s words: “learning from the sailors the art of navigation, +which I have never practised, and ... forming schemes for my conduct in +different situations, in not one of which I have ever been placed.” +There is obvious satire too in the account of the eminent mechanist who +discoursed learnedly upon the art of flying. But his flying machine +refused to fly and he promptly dropped into the lake, from which “the +prince drew him to land half dead with terror and vexation.”[168] +Johnson’s “wise and happy man,” who talks nobly about fortitude, but who +is unable to sustain the loss of his daughter, resembles the philosopher +in Voltaire’s sketch, _Les deux Consolés_, who seeks to solace a lady’s +grief by eloquence and refuses to be similarly comforted upon the death +of his son. Imlac’s encomium upon the busy and cheerful monastic life +has been compared with the close of _Candide_. There the hero meets a +contentedly ignorant old man whose entire life is employed in +cultivating his garden, and who thus escapes from ennui, vice, and want. +Candide is profoundly impressed, and brushes aside the grandiloquence of +Pangloss with the significant reply: “Cela est bien dit, ... mais il +faut cultiver notre jardin.” This is Voltaire’s last word in _Candide_, +and, like Johnson’s comment upon the return of Rasselas to Abyssinia, is +“a conclusion in which nothing is concluded.” Thus the similarity of +incidents and ideas brings us back to the deeper analogy between the +themes: the disillusionment of the optimist who has been brought up in +unreality. + +All this similarity is, however, counterbalanced by an utter +dissimilarity of treatment. A consideration of Voltaire’s artistic +method throws Johnson’s concept of an oriental tale into bolder relief, +with the high lights on those elements that he considered of prime +importance. Voltaire enjoyed telling the story for the sake of the +story, and delighted in the means he took to make blind optimism +ridiculous, wit and keen satire, vivid description and incident, clever +characterization,—in short, an artistic use of the concrete. _Candide_ +has been called “the wittiest book of the eighteenth century,” and wit +is a characteristic as far removed as possible from the seriousness of +_Rasselas_. To Johnson the story was a means to an end,—a frame +necessary to hold together and enhance the thought,—hence the simpler +the frame the better. In _Candide_ the story is interpenetrated with the +theme, but not borne down by it. Candide, like Rasselas, is searching +for happiness; but unlike Johnson’s hero, he desires not happiness in +the abstract,—a philosophical possibility,—but pleasure in the concrete +form of his mistress. He travels far and wide, in hopeful anticipation; +but when he finds her at last, she is no longer fair or lovable, and his +marriage with her is perfunctory and joyless,—a concrete, Voltairean +expression of the idea that happiness attained is often no happiness, +but vanishes in one’s grasp like the apples of dust. + +The scenes of Voltaire’s tale, moreover, are not laid in remote +Abyssinia, but chiefly in Europe, with an excursion to “El Dorado” in +the New World, an impossible and comfortable Utopia, the memory of which +serves to embitter Candide’s distress during his subsequent misfortunes. +The Europe of the tale is clearly the Europe of Voltaire’s own day: +there are obvious allusions to contemporary events, such as the +execution of the innocent English admiral Byng in 1757, an excellent +opportunity for Voltaire’s famous gibe at the English: “Dans ce pays-ci +il est bon de tuer de temps en temps un amiral pour encourager les +autres.” The characters also are more individualized than in _Rasselas_, +and scenes like the visit to the blasé Venetian senator Pococurante +(Chap. XXV.)[169] are brilliantly depicted. Throughout the entire story +one definite incident follows another, good and bad, but never +indifferent; until a general effect of rich complexity, of rapid +movement—not unlike that of _Gil Blas_—is attained. In the last analysis +what more striking contrast to this work of Voltaire, the consummate +artist and keen satirist, than _Rasselas_, the profoundly philosophical +tale of Johnson the moralist? Voltaire’s keen wit and brilliant mockery +is indeed exhilarating after the slow and ponderous progress of +Johnson’s thought; but, on the other hand, after the atmosphere of +turmoil, excitement, and repulsive crime in _Candide_, the clear and +pure air of _Rasselas_ affords a welcome relief. In the remote regions +of Johnson’s imaginary Abyssinia and Egypt, events are of minor +importance; the quiet, even advance of speculation concerning truth is +Johnson’s chief interest. There is no emphasis on any incident that +might distract the attention,—in fact the only noticeable events are the +flight from the Happy Valley and the adventure of Pekuah. Neither is +there any emphasis on description; the Happy Valley is depicted in the +most general terms; it might be any valley anywhere. Similarly, in +describing the Lady Pekuah in the Arab’s tent, or Rasselas in Cairo, or +the pyramids of Egypt,—in each case Johnson abstains from the concrete +and prefers the general term. Again, as to time and place he is vague. +His scene is laid far from contemporary Europe. “Rasselas was the fourth +son of the mighty emperor, in whose dominions the Father of Waters +begins his course, whose bounty ... scatters over half the world the +harvests of Egypt.” In fact Johnson’s method of orientalizing his tale +was extremely simple. “Imlac in _Rasselas_,” he says, “I spelt with a +_c_ at the end, because it is less like English, which should always +have the Saxon _k_ added to the _c_.”[170] Eastern localities are only +occasionally mentioned, and always in a thoroughly Johnsonian manner: +“Agra, the capital of Indostan, the city in which the Great Mogul +resides;” “Persia, where I saw many remains of ancient magnificence, and +observed many new accommodations of life.” But there is no local colour, +even in the account of Imlac’s journey with the caravan to the Red Sea, +or of the Arab bandits who demanded ransom for the Lady Pekuah, or of +the story-telling in the cool of the day. The language, clear and often +simple, always dignified and powerful, sometimes pompous, is seldom +orientalized by the introduction of figures such as “the frown of +power,” “the eye of wisdom,” “the waves of violence,” “the rocks of +treachery.” Unobstructed by imagery, it reflects Johnson’s clear and +serious thought. The Happy Valley, as a central concept, is as simple as +the bridge in _The Vision of Mirza_; indeed, Johnson’s treatment of +imaginative elements in general is like Addison’s. Rasselas, like Mirza, +is so generalized as to be “Everyman,” lacking the specific traits of a +living individual and in so far resembling characters in other oriental +tales. Yet the earnestness and dignity of the author raise _Rasselas_ +above the average oriental tale. Both theme and treatment compel +attention, and like music, may be interpreted by each reader for +himself. To a man of Johnson’s temperament, habitually threatened by +melancholy, the brighter side of life was invisible; such facts as +abiding joy, enduring content, true happiness, were beyond his field of +vision. Consequently _Rasselas_ shows only the shadows of the picture, +and is, in so far, untrue to life as a whole. But the truth that Johnson +saw, he faced unflinchingly and depicted powerfully, and by this truth, +so depicted, _Rasselas_ still lives. Emphasis on philosophizing rather +than on narrative; creation of a setting faint in colour; intentional +vagueness regarding character, time, and place, result in a strong +impression of remoteness. The Abyssinia and Cairo of _Rasselas_ are +far-away and shadowy places, in which shadowy people move; but the +questions raised, the grief expressed, come home to whoever “hath kept +watch o’er man’s mortality,” and, like Johnson, perplexed by + + “the mystery, ... + the heavy and the weary weight + Of all this unintelligible world,” + +has taken refuge in “learning,” “integrity,” and “faith.” These are the +realities behind the shadows in _Rasselas_,—realities which gain from +the vagueness and remoteness of setting a heightened effect of +universality. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + THE SATIRIC GROUP + + +In France satire used the oriental tale seriously for the purpose of +criticizing contemporary society, morals, and politics; but also turned +its criticism against the oriental tale itself, which it travestied and +parodied. These forms of satire we may term, respectively, social and +literary,—the former, satire by means of the oriental tale; the latter, +satire upon the oriental tale. Such social satire had appeared as far +back as 1684 with the publication of _L’Espion turc_[171] by Giovanni +Paolo Marana. This pseudo-oriental translation catered to the growing +interest in the Orient, contributing an important element to the +oriental vogue not actually inaugurated until the publication of the +epoch-making _Mille et une Nuits_ (1704–1717). The genre of +pseudo-letters, founded—so far as we know—by Marana, was continued by +Charles Rivière Dufresny in his _Amusemens_ (_sic_) _serieux et +comiques_ (1699),[172] culminated in the _Lettres Persanes_ (1721) of +Montesquieu, and was widely diffused by a score of imitators.[173] A +particularly light and humorous form of social satire is exemplified in +Marmontel’s prose tale, _Soliman II._ + +The literary satire referred to above was a natural reaction against +current enthusiasm for the extravagance of the oriental tale. Count +Hamilton led this reaction with his entertaining parodies on oriental +stories and fairy tales; Caylus, Voltaire, and others followed. In +general the satirizing tendency seems to have been about evenly divided +between social and literary satire. The natural inclination of the +French to satirize foibles of social life and weaknesses of the social +structure is plainly visible. Equally apparent is their acuteness in +perceiving and criticizing faults of literary style. In England the +emphasis was characteristically different and rested more on conduct, +less on art. Numerous translations and imitations of Marana, +Montesquieu, and others appeared; and in Goldsmith’s _Citizen of the +World_ the genre of pseudo-letters reached its highest point of +development in England. There were a few interesting translations of +French tales in which literary and social satire were mingled, such as +those by Voltaire; and a few translations of literary parodies by +Caylus, Bougeant, and Hamilton. But, if we except Horace Walpole’s +trifling _Hieroglyphic Tales_, there was no original English +parody.[174] + +As in France, so in England the impetus and direction to this particular +form of satire were first given by Marana.[175] The main idea of his +_Espion Turc_—the disguised Oriental observing and commenting on +European society and politics in a series of letters home—was apparently +original with him and was immediately popular. The first English +translation, by William Bradshaw, slightly edited by Robert Midgley, +appeared 1687–1693.[176] The character of the eight small, dusty volumes +of the English version is curious. An historical preface to Vol. I. is +followed by a Letter to the Reader which, like Irving’s account of the +disappearance of Diedrich Knickerbocker, tells how the Turk vanished +from his rooms leaving behind his roll of manuscript, and beseeches the +Gentle Reader’s respectful attention. The _Letters_ form a rambling +journal of gossip on current politics and satire on society. “We must +not expect to find here in Paris the great Tranquility which is at +_Constantinople_. The Town is so full of Coaches, of Horses and Waggons, +that the Noise surpasses Imaginations. Thou wilt certainly find it +strange that Men who are in Health ... should cause themselves to be +drawn in an Engine with Four Wheels.... The more _moderate French_, +which do not approve of this luxury, say, That, in the Time of Henry +III. there were but Three Coaches in _Paris_, whereof Two were the +King’s; But the Number is now so great, that they are not to be counted. +I can tell thee no more of the Genius of the French; thou knowest it +perfectly. _There is in all their actions a Spirit very delicate and an +Activity like that of Fire._ It seems as if none but they knew the short +Duration of man’s life; they do every Thing with so much Haste, as if +they had but one Day to live; _If they go on Foot, they run; if they +ride, they fly; and if they speak, they eat up half their Words_. They +love new Inventions passionately.... They love _Moneys_, which they look +upon as the _first Matter_, and _second Cause_ of all Things; They well +nigh adore it and that is the Original Sin of all Nations.”[177] On all +sorts of subjects the Spy makes all sorts of remarks, trivial and +serious, stupid and interesting, never very profound. He gives court +gossip; sketches his call upon Cardinal Richelieu in obedience to the +Cardinal’s command; and recounts stories of Spanish cavaliers, Italian +ladies, and Arab galley-slaves. In oriental colouring _The Turkish Spy_, +especially in its earlier volumes, is more consistent than later +imitations like, for example, Lyttelton’s _Persian Letters_. The Spy’s +point of view seems remote; he speaks as a foreigner might speak of +customs that appear to him different from those of his native country. +“How often,” he says (Vol. VI., p. 3), “have I been like to discover +myself by pronouncing the sacred _Bismillah_, either when I sat down to +eat, or ... began any other Action of Importance.... When I met any of +my acquaintance in the street, I was apt to forget that I had a hat on, +and instead of putting off that, according to the Fashion of the Franks, +I laid my hand in my Breast, and sometimes bow’d so low, that my Hat +fell off.... If I had Occasion to address myself to a Person of Quality, +I was ready to take up the Bottom of his Cloak, Gown, or Robe, and to +kiss it in token of Reverence, as the Custom is in the East, when we +salute the Grandees. Nay, sometimes I could not forbear falling on my +Knee, or prostrate on the Ground before Cardinal Richlieu [_sic_].” The +description (Vol. I., p. 107) of the fair Paradise of the faithful, clad +in robes of “pleasing green,” and receiving from the hands of God their +recompense, is not unlike the conventional descriptions in the +_Adventures of Abdalla_ or the _Persian Tales_. Eastern proverbs and +stories are quoted (Vol. I., pp. 119, 140), and Eastern or +pseudo-Eastern forms of blessing; _e.g._ “He that is Lord of the East +and the West, from whose Throne hang Millions of Stars in Chains of +Gold, encrease thy Virtues and Blessings, and preserve thee from the +Poison of ill Eyes and malicious Tongues, and bring thee to the _Fields +of Endless Light_” (Vol. II., p. 28); or “He that is merciful and +gracious, who hath separated the Brightness of the Day from the +Obscurity of the Night, defend both thee and me from the malice of +Whisperers, from the Enchantments of Wizards, and such as breathe thrice +upon the _Knot_ of the _Triple Cord_” (Vol. III., p. 47). By slight +touches throughout the _Letters_, the author with more or less success +keeps up the illusion. But “the chief permanent interest of the once +popular _Letters_ is derived from the fact that they inaugurated a new +species of literary composition. The similar idea of a description of +England as if by a foreigner was suggested by Swift as a good and +original one in the _Journal to Stella_, and was utilized by Ned Ward +and by many successors, but Montesquieu’s _Lettres Persanes_ (1723) is +the best classical example. Many subsequent writers, including Charles +Lamb, have been under obligations to the _Letters_, etc.”[178] + +Dufresny’s influence as well as Marana’s on the development of the genre +of pseudo-letters is clearly visible. The _Amusements Serious and +Comical Calculated for the Meridian of London_ (1700),[179] by Thomas +Brown, is in part a verbal translation, in part a paraphrase of +Dufresny’s work, with the addition of graphic sketches of London scenes +and characters in the manner of Defoe. Brown nowhere acknowledges his +indebtedness, however. His Preface, or rather Dufresny’s, of which his +is practically a translation, defends the choice of the title, +_Amusements Serious and Comical_, for the thoughts on life he is about +to present; and avows his purpose of robbing neither the Ancients nor +the Moderns of learned quotations with which to decorate his style. He +will rather pillage all he gives his reader from “the Book of the World, +which is very ancient and yet always new.” _Amusement II., The Voyage of +the World_, a free translation of Dufresny’s _Amusement Second, Le +Voiage du Monde_, describes general impressions of life at court. Brown +adds vivid pictures of individuals, _e.g._ the _Character of the +Antiquated Beau_: “Observe that old starched Fop there; his Hat and +Peruque continue to have as little Acquaintance together as they had in +the year ’65. You would take him for a Taylor by his Mein, but he is +another sort of an Animal, I assure you, a Courtier, a Politician, the +most _unintelligible thing_ now in being,” etc.[180] _Amusement III., +London_, is based on Dufresny’s _Amusement III., Paris_. For the +imaginary Siamese whom Dufresny conceives as a traveling companion, +Brown substitutes an Indian. Brown’s idea of the location of India seems +as vague as that of a fifteenth-century explorer. He calls his +companion, “my Indian” and “my friendly American,” and on the next page +makes him compare St. Paul’s with the Chinese Wall and contrast the +irreverent conduct of Englishmen in church with the devout worship by +his countrymen of “the gods in the pagods.” + +But the chief difference between Brown’s work and Dufresny’s is due to +the clever way in which the English writer enriches the brief, +generalized, mildly satirical comments of his French original by +concrete sketches of street life,—frequently coarse, but always +picturesque,—which recall the work of Defoe or Hogarth. For instance, +Dufresny writes: “Je supose[181] donc que mon Siamois tombe des nuës, et +qu’il se trouve dans le milieu de cette Cité vaste et tumultueuse, où le +repos et le silence on peine à regner pendant la nuit même. D’abord le +cahos bruiant de la rüe Saint Honoré l’étourdit et l’épouvante; la tête +lui tourne. + +“Il voit une infinité de machines differentes que des hommes font +mouvoir: les uns sont dessus, les autres dedans, les autres derriere; +ceux-ci portent, ceux-la sont portez; l’un tire, l’autre pousse; l’un +frape, l’autre crie; celui-ci s’enfuit, l’autre court aprés. Je demande +à mon Siamois ce qu’il pense de ce spectacle.—J’admire et je tremble, me +repond-il; j’admire que dans un espace si etroit tant de machines et +tant d’animaux, dont les mouvements sont opposez ou differens, soient +ainsi agitez sans se confondre; se démêler d’un tel embarras, c’est un +chef-d’œuvre de l’adresse des François.... En voiant vôtre Paris, +continuë ce Voiageur abstrait, je m’imagine voir un grand animal; les +ruës sont autant de veines où le peuple circule: quelle vivacité que +celle de la circulation de Paris!—Vous voiez, lui dis-je, cette +circulation qui se fait dans le cœur de Paris; il s’en fait une encore +plus petillante dans le sang des Parisiens; ils sont toujours agitez et +toujours actifs, leurs actions se succedent avec tant de rapidité qu’ils +commencent mille choses avant que d’en finir une, et en finissent milles +autres avant que de les avoir commencées. Ils sont également incapables +et d’attention et de patience; rien n’est plus prompt que l’effet de +l’oüie et de la vûë, et cependant ils ne se donnent le tems ni +d’entendre ni de voir.”[182] + +Compare the corresponding but far livelier passage in Brown.[183] “I +will therefore suppose this _Indian_ of mine dropt perpendicularly from +the Clouds, and finds himself all on a sudden in the midst of this +prodigious and noisy City, where Repose and Silence dare scarce shew +their Heads in the darkest Night. At first dash the confused Clamours +near _Temple-Bar_ stun him, fright him and make him giddy. + +“He sees an infinite number of different _Machines_, all in violent +motion, some _riding_ on the top, some within, others behind, and Jehu +on the Coach-box, whirling some _dignified Villain_ towards the _Devil_, +who has got an Estate by cheating the Publick. He lolls at full Stretch +within, and half a dozen brawny ... Footmen behind. + +“In that dark Shop there, several Mysteries of _Iniquity_ have seen +_Light_; and its a Sign our Saviour’s Example is little regarded, since +the Money-changers are suffered to live so near the Temple.... Here +stands a Shop-keeper who has not Soul enough to wear a Beaver-Hat, with +the Key of his Small-Beer in his Pocket; and not far from him a stingy +Trader who has no Small-Beer to have a Key to.... Some carry, others are +carried; _Make way there_, says a gouty-legged Chairman.... _Make room +there_, says another Fellow driving a wheelbarrow of Nuts, that spoil +the Lungs of the City Prentices.... One draws, another drives. _Stand up +there, you blind Dog_, says a Carman, _will you have the Cart squeeze_ +[you]?... One Tinker knocks, another bawls, _Have you Brass-pot, Kettle, +Skillet, or Frying-Pan to mend?_ Whilst another ... yelps louder than +Homer’s Stentor, _Two a groat and Four for sixpence Mackerel?..._ Here a +sooty Chimney-sweeper takes the Wall of a grave _Alderman_ and a +_Broomman_ justle[s] the _Parson_ of the Parish.... _Turn out there, +you_ ... says a _Bully_ with a Sword two Yards long jarring at his +Heels, and throws him into the Kennel. By and by comes a _Christening_ +with a Reader screwing up his Mouth to deliver the Service _alamode de +Paris_, and afterwards talk immoderately nice and dull with the +Gossips ... followed with ... a ... Trumpeter calling in the Rabble to +see a Calf with six Legs and a Topknot. There goes a Funeral with the +Men of Rosemary after it, licking their Lips after their hits of White, +Sack, and Claret in the House of Mourning, and the _Sexton_ walking +before, as big and bluff as a Beef-eater at a Coronation. Here’s a +_Poet_ scampers for’t as fast as his Legs will carry him, and at his +heels a brace of _Bandog Bailiffs_, with open Mouths, ready to devour +him and all the Nine Muses.” + +Then follows the story of a visit to a coffeehouse, to St. Paul’s, to +the shops in Cheapside, and to many other places. During the walk +Brown’s Indian makes the remark Dufresny puts into the mouth of his +Siamese concerning the city as an “Animal” through whose veins—the +streets—life circulates. To the final sentence: “[The people] don’t +allow themselves time either to hear or to see,” Brown adds, “but like +Moles, work in the dark and undermine one another.” The above quotations +suggest better than any comments the way in which Brown utilized and +enriched his source. He discussed the same topics: the playhouse, the +promenades, gallantry, marriage, and gaming-houses; and from Dufresny’s +_Cercle Bourgeois_ developed _The City Lady’s Visiting-Day_, which, +despite Brown’s characteristically coarse tone and biting satire, +recalls some of Addison’s essays. That Brown influenced Addison has, in +fact, been suggested.[184] The earlier writer certainly holds a +significant place in the line of development of the pseudo-letter genre. + +The work of Marana, Dufresny, and Brown was continued by Addison and +Steele, the first notable English men of letters to utilize the oriental +material as a vehicle for satire. In the case of the moralistic and +philosophic groups of oriental tales they gave the initial impulse; in +this instance, though they did not originate the satiric tendency, they +did assist in popularizing it. As early as No. 50 of the _Spectator_ +(April 27, 1711), Addison handles similar material in his account of +“the very odd observations by four [American] Indian kings” as set down +in a manuscript left behind them. St. Paul’s they imagined to have been +wrought out of a huge misshapen rock. “It is probable that when this +great work was begun, ... many hundred years ago, there was some +religion among this people; for they give it the name of a temple and +have a tradition that it was designed for men to pay their devotions +in.... But ... I could not observe any circumstances of devotion in +their behaviour.... Instead of paying their worship to the deity of the +place, they were most of them bowing and courtesying to one another, and +a considerable number of them fast asleep.” “This island was very much +infested with a monstrous kind of animals, in the shape of men, called +whigs; ... apt to knock us down for being kings.... (The tory) was as +great a monster as the whig and would treat us ill for being +foreigners.” After ridiculing the wigs of Englishmen and the patches of +English ladies, the observations close, and Addison draws the moral that +we should not be so narrow as these Indians, who regard as ridiculous +all customs unlike their own. Another essay in the _Spectator_,[185] +similarly modeled on _The Turkish Spy_ or the _Amusements_, is a letter +to the King of Bantam from his ambassador in England, 1682, criticizing +the empty compliments of English social and diplomatic circles, and +giving clever pictures of London life. The pretended letter from the +King of China to the Pope asking for a Christian wife[186] ridicules +fantastic “oriental” descriptions; the assumptions of “his majesty of +Rome and his holiness of China”; and “the lady who shall have so much +zeal as to undertake this pilgrimage, and be an empress for the sake of +her religion.” + +Two other essays, not pseudo-letters, complete the slender number of +satiric oriental tales used by Addison and Steele. In one, the story of +the transmigrations of Pug, the monkey, satirizes the ape-like character +of the beau supposed to be incarnate in Pug.[187] In the other[188] Will +Honeycomb, apropos of “those dear, confounded creatures, women,” +suggests having a marriage-fair as they do, he says, in Persia, where +homely women are endowed with the money paid for beauties. He questions +which would be the stronger motive in Englishmen, love of money or love +of beauty. The same essay contains a story of a merchant in a Chinese +town after a Tartar victory. He buys a sack for a high price, discovers +in it an old woman, and is about to throw her into the river, but +relents when she promises wealth. She keeps her promise, and their +married life is contented. + +In the later periodicals throughout the century the number of such tales +is even smaller than in the _Spectator_. The _World_, No. 40, on the +“Infelicities of Marriage owing to the Husband’s not giving way to the +Wife,” contains a bald abridgment of the _Story of King Ruzvanchad and +the Princess Cheristany_ “from the first volume of the _Persian Tales_.” +The _Story of the Dervise’s Mirror_[189] has almost no oriental +colouring and is used for social satire. The mirror has the power of +reflecting what a person really is, what he wishes to be, and what he +thinks he is. The _Connoisseur_, No. 21, contains the story of +Tquassaouw and Knonmquaiha, “an Hottentot story,” which has been well +described as “an indecent parody of the oriental style,” and is the only +example of deliberate parody in all the eighteenth-century periodicals. +As suggested elsewhere,[190] English writers used the oriental tale, not +so much for literary as for social satire, and expressed their +disapproval of the genre by direct criticism in preference to parody. + +After the social satire of Addison and of Steele, the next in point of +time and the most notable is that of Montesquieu. His _Lettres Persanes_ +appeared in 1721.[191] The date of the first extant English translation, +by Mr. Ozell, was 1730; of the third edition of Ozell’s version, 1731; +of an anonymous translation, sixth edition, 1776. Thus, from 1721 on +past the middle of the century, the work was accessible to English +readers, and made the figure of the observant, satirical European in +oriental disguise, introduced by _The Turkish Spy_, almost as familiar +in England as on the Continent. _Les Lettres Persanes_ is unquestionably +the most artistic example of the oriental pseudo-letter. Montesquieu’s +genius raised his work above the level of the casual and intermittent +comments and external details found in _The Turkish Spy_ and the court +memoirs of the seventeenth century, to philosophic and organic criticism +of life. His chief aim was to express his views on social customs, forms +of government, and questions of religion and conduct; and as he +published the book anonymously, he was enabled to write with great +freedom. His secondary purpose was to entertain, and to this purpose his +genius cleverly adapted the oriental colouring. The two Persians +visiting Paris, the serious Usbek and the younger and gayer Rica, and +their various correspondents, are vivaciously, if slightly, sketched; +the best parts of the book are the comments on European ideas and +customs, but the slender thread of story is not without interest. As the +author, in the _Preliminary Reflections_ prefixed to the quarto edition, +says: “There is nothing in the _Persian Letters_ that has given readers +so general a satisfaction as to find in them a sort of romance without +having expected it.”[192] The “sort of romance” relates the +insubordination of Usbek’s wives in his absence and culminates in the +unfaithfulness of his favourite wife Roxane and the death of her lover. +It is Roxane who writes to Usbek the concluding letter, informing him +that she has taken poison, and reproaching him with bitter scorn. + +The oriental colouring in the _Letters_ is thin, and is often set aside +by the author in his eagerness to discuss general questions. Usbek and +Rica write, it is true, of bashaws, brachmans, transmigrations; the +Guebres, who worship the sun and talk ancient Persian; Haly and +Zoroaster; imams, magi, and the Koran. Customs of the seraglio are +frequently used as an excuse for extreme license in description. But the +author, by taking nominally the Persian point of view and by contrasting +Persian ways with European, satirizes the latter adroitly. Among the +subjects discussed are the evils of despotism, the value of a mild +government and of a just administration of laws, the greediness of +clergy, the fallibility and conceit of the French Academy, the caprices +of fashion, the vanity of authors and of women. Of Spanish literature +Rica writes: “You may meet with wit and good sense among the Spaniards, +but look for neither in their books. View but one of their libraries, +romances on this side, and school divines on the other; you would say +that they had been made ... by some secret enemy to human reason. The +only good one of all their books, is that which was wrote to show the +ridiculousness of all the others” (_Letter_ LXXVIII.). Sometimes the +criticism is embodied in clever character-sketches, like those of the +would-be wits (_Letters_ LIV., LXXXII.); the newsmongers or Quidnuncs +(_Letter_ CXXX.);[193] and the men of fashion (_Letter_ LXXXVIII.). In +_Letter_ LXXII. Rica describes “a man who was highly pleased with +himself.” “He had decided, in a quarter of an hour, three questions in +morality, four historical problems, and five points in natural +philosophy. I never saw so universal a decider; his mind was never +suspended by the least doubt. We left the sciences; talked of the news +of the times. He decided the news of the times. I was willing to catch +him, and said to myself; I must get into my strong fort; I will take +refuge in my own country; I talked to him of Persia; but I had scarce +spoke four words to him, but he contradicted me twice, upon the +authority of Tavernier and Chardin. Hah! said I to myself, what a man is +this here? He will presently know all the streets in Ispahan better than +myself; I soon determined what part to take: I was silent, I left him to +talk; and he yet decides.” The question put to Usbek whether happiness +is attained by virtue or by self-indulgence is answered by the story of +the Troglodites, an ancient Arabian people to whom selfishness brought +adversity, and virtue prosperity.[194] Other stories inserted, after the +fashion of the pseudo-letter genre, are _The History of Apheridon and +Astarte_;[195] a so-called _Greek myth_;[196] the story of the _Persian +Lady Anais_;[197] and the incident of the patient cured of insomnia by +reading dull books of devotion.[198] It is not surprising to read in the +_Preliminary Reflections_: “So great a call was there for the _Persian +Letters_, upon their first publication, that the booksellers exerted +their utmost efforts to procure continuations of them. They pulled every +author they met by the sleeve, and said, Sir, I must beg the favour of +you to write me a collection of _Persian Letters_.”[199] + +The first English collection of pseudo-letters written in imitation of +Montesquieu and his predecessors was the _Persian Letters_ of Lord +Lyttelton (1735).[200] Although inferior to _Les Lettres Persanes_ in +literary value, the book needs more comment here because it is an +English work and is less well known, and also because it directly +influenced Goldsmith’s _Citizen of the World_. The _Prefatory Letter_ +asserts that these letters are translated from the Persian, acknowledges +that they lack the “Eastern sublimity” of the original, and attempts to +forestall the accusation that the character of the Persian is +fictitious. Many such counterfeits have appeared both in France and +England, the author says, but this is genuine. His defense not only +fails to convince the reader but confirms the opinion gained from +various authorities on Lyttelton’s life and from the book itself, that +it is a pseudo-translation written in English by Lyttelton. + +The letter-form is used with far less skill than in the _Lettres +Persanes_. Selim the Persian at London is supposed to write all the +seventy-eight letters to his friend Mirza at Ispahan, and the letters +have thus the monotony of a journal instead of the varied interest of +letters by several people. Lyttelton makes a slight and ineffectual +attempt to imitate the artistic qualities of the dramatic narrative +which forms the framework of the _Lettres Persanes_, but the reader can +with difficulty disentangle the fragments of plot. In _Letter_ XXIII. +Selim’s friend Abdalla is introduced, but does not appear again until +_Letter_ XLII. He then intrusts his wife Zelis to Selim while he returns +to the East to ransom his father from captivity. The thread of the story +is lost again until _Letter_ LXXVIII., which recounts Abdalla’s +adventures and his reunion with Zelis.[201] Finally, in _Letter_ LXXIX. +Selim reveals to Mirza his hopeless love for Zelis and consequent +determination to return to Persia. The oriental colouring is as slight +as the narrative. The author occasionally remembers to refer to Persia, +“the resplendent palace of our emperor,” and the seraglio, or to use an +oriental phrase. “Madam” (says Selim to the mother of an English girl +whom he wishes to marry), “I have a garden at Ispahan, adorned with the +finest flowers in the East: I have the Persian jasmine and the tulip of +Candahar; but I have beheld an English lily more fair ... and far more +sweet.”[202] Occasionally, the incongruity between the Persian and +English points of view results in humour. Selim describes a card-party +as a sight “very strange to a Persian; ... tables ... round which were +placed several sets of men and women; they seemed wonderfully intent +upon some bits of painted paper ... in their hands. I imagined at first +that they were performing some magical ceremony, and that the +figures ... on ... the ... paper were a mystical talisman. What more +confirmed me in this belief was the grimaces and distortions of their +countenances, much like those of our magicians in the act of conjuring. +But ... I was told they were at play, and that this was the favourite +diversion of both sexes.”[203] Again he writes of a visit to a suburban +villa, elegant, but so cold that he thought “the great saloon” the +family burying-place, and caught a cold, “which,” as he said, “took away +my voice in the very instant that I was going to complain of what he +made me suffer” (_Letter_ XXXII.). + +But the author often forgets the Persian point of view; his thin +disguise falls off and reveals the grave English gentleman seriously +concerned over the shortcomings of English society and government. He +uses the pseudo-letter merely as a means to a definite satirical end. He +comments freely upon the unhappy victims of injustice in the debtors’ +prison; upon the courts of law, parliament, the evils of parties, “the +abuse of the thing called eloquence,” the growth and value of the +constitution, the faults of the educational system, the soporific +effects of fashionable opera, and the immorality of society. He depicts +various types of character. “There is a set of people in this country, +whose activity is more useless than the idleness of a monk. They are +like those troublesome dreams which often agitate and perplex us in our +sleep, but leave no impression behind them when we wake. I have sent +thee an epitaph made for one of those _men of business_, who ended his +life and his labours not long ago; ... ‘_Here lies ..., who lived +threescore and ten years in a continual hurry. He had the honour of +sitting in six parliaments, of being chairman in twenty-five committees, +and of making three hundred and fifty speeches.... He left behind him +memoirs of his own life, in five volumes in folio. Reader, if thou +shouldst be moved to drop a tear for the loss of so considerable a +Person, it will be a Singular favour to the deceased; for nobody else +concerns himself about it, or remembers that such a man was ever born_’” +(_Letter_ XXV.). Other “Characters” are the good-natured country +gentleman, the benevolent bishop, the virtuoso, the vain man, the true +wit, and the rough country squire. The last is drawn with real vigour. +The squire was vastly enjoying the bear- and bull-baiting; and when +Selim and a Frenchman criticized the dreadful cruelty of the sport, he +“cast a very sour look at both.... He was dressed in a short black wig, +had his boots on, and held in his hand a long whip, which, when the +fellow fought stoutly, he would crack very loudly by way of +approbation, ... [and would say] ‘Let me tell you that if more people +came hither and fewer loitered in the drawing-room, it would not be +worse for Old England’” (_Letter_ III.). + +One of the best letters[204] bears a close resemblance to _Letter_ XIV. +in _The Citizen of the World_: “The other morning a friend ... told me, +with the air of one who brings an agreeable piece of news that there was +a _lady_ who most _passionately desired the pleasure of my +acquaintance_, and had commissioned him to carry me to see her. _I will +not deny_ to thee, that _my vanity_ was a little _flattered_ with this +message: I fancied _she had seen me in some public place and had_ taken +a liking to _my person_; not being able to comprehend what other motive +could make her send for a man she was a stranger to, in so free and +extraordinary a manner, I _painted her_ in _my_ own _imagination_ very +young, and very handsome, and _set out with most pleasing expectations_, +to see the _conquest I had made_: but when I arrived at the place of +assignation, I found a little old woman, very dirty, encircled by four +or five strange fellows, one of whom had a paper in his hand, which he +was reading to her with all the emphasis of an author.” She greeted +Selim “with great satisfaction,” saying she had long been curious to +know a Mahometan and to be initiated into all the mysteries of the Koran +in order to perfect a system of theology she had herself contrived. +“‘Madam,’ replied I, in great confusion, ‘I did not come to England as a +missionary.... But if a Persian tale would entertain you, I could tell +you one that the Eastern ladies are mighty fond of.’ ‘A Persian Tale!’ +cried she, ‘Really, sir, I am not used to be so affronted.’ At these +words she retired into her closet, with her whole train of +metaphysicians; and left my friend and me to go away, as unworthy of any +further communications with her.” Another proof that Goldsmith borrowed +from Lyttelton is the similarity of certain names and incidents in +Goldsmith’s story of the Chinese Philosopher’s son and the beautiful +captive[205] to those in the tale of Abdalla in the _Persian Letters_. +In both are to be found the heroine Zelis, the sudden appearance of the +beautiful slave to the hero, her account of her master’s partiality, her +flight with the hero, the separation and final reunion of hero and +heroine. In putting in such a story Goldsmith followed the traditional +lines of the genre and, as usual, improved upon the crude method of +Lyttelton, exemplified in the utterly extraneous, coarse, and inartistic +tales of _Ludovico and Honoria_,[206] and of _Acasto and +Septimius_,[207] apparently of Italian or Spanish origin. Not until +almost the last _Letter_ does Lyttelton introduce the love of Selim for +Zelis,—a belated attempt to enliven the tedium by some human interest. +The slight sketches of English life break the monotony occasionally, but +are not enough to redeem the dullness of the book as a whole. The satire +is such as might be expected from a man who has been called amiable, +ignorant of the world, “a poor practical politician,” and “a gentleman +of Elegant Taste in Poetry and Polite Literature.” His chief claim to +remembrance lies in the fact that he influenced Goldsmith.[208] + +The English pseudo-letters, aside from Lyttelton’s _Persian Letters_ and +Goldsmith’s _Citizen of the World_, are comparatively insignificant. +Among them the most popular was Horace Walpole’s _Letter from +Xo-Ho_,[209] which was written May 12, 1757, and went through five +editions in a fortnight. It is a brief, witty satire, aimed chiefly at +the injustice of the system of political rewards and punishments, as +exemplified in Admiral Byng’s recent execution. There are a few good +hits at social amusements, at the English weather, and at foibles of the +English character in general. The oriental disguise is extremely thin, +but is cleverly used to point the satire. For instance, Xo-Ho says: “I +thought when a nation was engaged in a great war with a superior power, +that they must have council [_sic_]. I was deceived; reason in China is +not reason in England ... my friend Lien Chi, I tell thee things as they +are; I pretend not to account for the conduct of Englishmen; I told thee +before, they are incomprehensible.” Xo-Ho refers to “our august +emperor,” and swears by “Cong Fu-tsee,” but the mask does not conceal +Walpole’s supercilious smile. As a link in the development of +pseudo-letters in England, _Xo-Ho_ is especially interesting, being in +all probability one of the sources of Goldsmith’s _Chinese Philosopher_. + +The _Citizen of the World_ is a good illustration of the tribute paid by +Dr. Johnson to Goldsmith: “Nullum quod tetigit non ornavit.” First +printed in the form of bi-weekly letters in Newbery’s _Public Ledger_, +beginning January 24, 1760, the book was immediately popular, and was +published in 1762 under the title _The Citizen of the World,[210] or +Letters from a Chinese Philosopher residing in London to his friends in +the East_. Numerous editions followed. From what source Goldsmith caught +the phrase “Citizen of the World” is unknown.[211] He may have taken it +from a French book which had appeared only a few years before, _Le +Cosmopolite_ (1750), by Fougeret de Monbron, and which had been +reprinted in 1752 under the title _Le Citoyen du Monde_.[212] Byron +called it “an amusing little volume full of French flippancy,” and drew +from it a quotation[213] which he prefixed to _Childe Harold’s +Pilgrimage_. Among Goldsmith’s other sources are, of course, Montesquieu +and Marana, possibly also Dufresny. The name _Fum-Hoam_ he probably drew +from the _Chinese Tales_. It is not unlikely that he knew the recent +translation of _Hau Kiou Chooan_,[214] by Wilkinson. He undoubtedly +utilized Lyttelton’s _Persian Letters_. + +Like its predecessors, _The Citizen of the World_ is a series of letters +written ostensibly by an Oriental describing and satirizing the manners +and customs of Europe by sharp contrast with the real or imaginary +customs of his native land. Previous pseudo-letters had been +interspersed, like the Addisonian periodicals, with episodical stories +and character-sketches, and _The Citizen of the World_ elaborated both +these lines of decoration. The most famous sketches are those of the +“Man in Black,” “Beau Tibbs,” and the “Wooden-legged Soldier.” But to +the student of oriental fiction the chief interest of these _Letters_ +lies in the ease and facility with which Goldsmith handles his oriental +material. Instead of attempting a cumbersome description of the Chinese +Philosopher, Lien Chi Altangi, the first letter gives brief credentials +as to his honesty and respectability in a way that would surely appeal +to the English public. His friend Fum-Hoam is a shadowy figure, just +distinct enough to be a receptive correspondent. A touch of romance is +given by the frequent mention of Lien Chi’s longing for home and the +improbable but interesting love story of his son. The heroine, a +beautiful slave, proves to be the niece of the Man in Black, Lien Chi’s +best friend in London. The character of the Chinese Philosopher is +purposely vague; the comments on London life are Goldsmith’s own. Every +now and then he remembers to hold the mask before his face and to drop a +sudden remark in character, and the result is a humorous incongruity. +The picture of London streets where “a great lazy puddle moves muddily +along” is more vivid by contrast to Lien Chi’s memory of the golden +streets of Nankin.[215] Ideals of feminine beauty are all the more +acutely and quizzically described by praising absolutely opposite +Chinese standards. The justice of literary patronage in China is +contrasted with the bribery and falsity of the English custom. Absurd +English fashions in dress and household decoration, cruelty to animals, +and inconsistent funeral rites are freely criticized. Goldsmith employs +effectively the indirect method of the satirist who condemns one custom +by praising its opposite. He seeks to give verisimilitude by quotations +from Confucius, “the Arabian language,” “Ambulaachamed the Arabian +poet,” and “a South American Ode.” In the half-serious, half-humorous +_Preface_ Goldsmith tells us that “the metaphors and allusions are all +drawn from the East. This formality our author [_i.e._ Lien Chi] +carefully preserves. Many of their favourite tenets in morals are +illustrated. The Chinese are grave and sententious; so is he. But in one +particular the resemblance is peculiarly striking; the Chinese are often +dull, and so is he. Nor has my assistance been wanting. We are told in +an old romance of a certain knight-errant and his horse who contracted +an intimate friendship. The horse most usually bore the knight, but, in +cases of extraordinary despatch, the knight returned the favour, and +carried his horse. Thus, in the intimacy between my author and me, he +has usually given me a lift of his Eastern sublimity, and I have +sometimes given him a return of my colloquial ease.”[216] Usually +Goldsmith begins a _Letter_ with an oriental metaphor and soon drops +into plain English. Sometimes his philosopher remembers to draw the +letter to a close with a figure of speech. _Letter_ II. begins: “Friend +of my Heart, May the wings of peace rest upon thy dwelling.” In the same +letter the ship’s progress is compared to the swiftness of an arrow from +a Tartar bow. The goddess of Poverty is likened to a veiled Eastern +bride supposed to be beautiful, but hideous when the veil is drawn. +Vauxhall Gardens look to Lien Chi like the dreams of Mahomet’s paradise. +But Goldsmith’s sense of humour and instinct of artistic restraint show +him the absurdities of the pseudo-oriental style, and lead him to use +such figures sparingly. + +The tales inserted in the _Citizen of the World_ reveal a similar +mastery of material. The majority are stories with a moral or satirical +import and exemplify some general proposition. The insincerity and the +brevity of effusive affection are amusingly illustrated by a variant of +the _Matron of Ephesus_: the story of _Choang the fondest husband and +Hansi the most endearing wife_ (_Letter_ XVIII.).[217] The virtue of +benevolence is set forth in the tale of the good king Hamti’s triumphal +procession, made up of the poor whose sufferings he had relieved +(_Letter_ XXIII.). _The Rise and Decline of the Kingdom of Lao_ +(_Letter_ XXV.) is a moralistic tale concerning political evils, and is +modeled apparently on the _History of the Troglodites_ in Montesquieu or +Lyttelton. False politeness is ridiculed, first directly, and then +indirectly, by two amusing letters from the English lady Belinda and the +Chinese lady Yaoua (_Letter_ XXXIX.). Each describes an absurdly +ceremonious call which her suitor makes upon her father. The folly of +avarice is taught by the story of Whang the miller,—a tale not unlike +the familiar one of the woman who killed the goose that laid the golden +egg (_Letter_ LXX.). Injustice thwarted by quick wit is illustrated in +the conclusion of the story of the clever prime minister (_Letter_ +CI.).[218] Unjustly accused of misgovernment, he asked to be banished to +a desolate village. His queen granted the request, but could find no +such village. Hence she realized the universal prosperity of the country +under her vizier’s rule, and withdrew the unjust accusation. Several +Eastern apologues are also used to illustrate some generalization. The +fable of the elephant who prayed to be as wise as man, suffered +discontent, and was happy only when restored to his former state of +ignorance, exemplifies “the misery of a being endowed with sentiments +above its capacity of fruition” (_Letter_ LXXXII.);[219] _A Chinese +fable, ... Five animals at a meal_, sets forth the rapacity of lawyers +(_Letter_ XCVIII.); and _An Eastern Apologue of the Genius of Love_, +illustrates feminine insincerity and “false idolatry” (_Letter_ CXIV.). +Similar to this apologue is the author’s dream of the _Glass of Lao_ +(_Letter_ XLVI.), which reflects the true character of all the ladies +who look into it. All prove to be faulty except one. Before her face the +mirror remains fair,—because she has been “deaf, dumb, and a fool from +the cradle.” Two allegories in the manner of Addison and Johnson occur, +one of _Gardens of Vice and Virtue_ (_Letter_ XXXI.)[220]; the other, of +the _Valley of Ignorance_, said by Goldsmith to be drawn from the +_Zend-Avesta_, but resembling the Happy Valley of _Rasselas_ (_Letter_ +XXXVII.). In addition to these more or less humorous short stories with +a moralizing turn, there is one clever parody in Hamilton’s style, of +the fairy stories and oriental tales: the story of Prince Bonbenin +bonbobbin bonbobbinet and the white mouse with the green eyes; and one +longer romantic narrative: the love and adventures of the Chinese +Philosopher’s Son and the beautiful Zelis (beginning in _Letter_ +VI.).[221] Several tales of travel are found in the account of the +Philosopher’s journey to Europe through countries “where Nature sports +in primeval rudeness.” In general, Goldsmith’s use of tales and fables +is similar to Addison’s and Johnson’s. His purpose is to say something +serious under the guise of entertainment, to instruct as well as to +amuse. In the mouth of his Chinese Philosopher the half-serious, +half-humorous criticism gains poignancy.[222] + +The concept of this central character stimulated Goldsmith’s quizzical +common sense and keen appreciation of that incongruity which is the soul +of humour; and also afforded an opportunity to express his democratic +sympathies,—his benevolence towards all men, Chinese and English, far +and near. This is the more noticeable in contrast with the attitude of +polite society towards the East. The Chinese Philosopher is not unduly +puffed up by his reception. “The same earnestness,” he writes, “which +excites them to see a Chinese, would have made them equally proud of a +visit from a rhinoceros.” The amusing scene (_Letter_ XIV.)—already +alluded to (p. 184)—describing Lien Chi’s visit to the old lady, +ridicules the current fad for grotesque Chinese bric-a-brac. “She took +me through several rooms, all furnished, she told me, in the Chinese +manner; sprawling dragons, squatting pagodas, and clumsy mandarins were +stuck upon every shelf; in turning round one must have used caution not +to demolish a part of the precarious furniture. In a house like this, +thought I, one must live continually upon the watch; the inhabitant must +resemble a knight in an enchanted castle, who expects to meet an +adventure at every turning.” + +In general, the oriental decorations of the book are quite external. Yet +the repeated reference to what the author imagines, or pretends to +imagine, is the Chinese attitude of mind or turn of phrase, adds to _The +Citizen of the World_ a distinct and admirable element of humour. The +book may justly be regarded as one of the best English oriental tales of +the period. + +Of the numerous French imitations of Marana and Montesquieu only a few +of any importance were translated into English, for instance, the +_Chinese Letters_ (1741)[223] of D’Argens, and the _Letters of a +Peruvian Princess_ (1748),[224] by Mme. F. Huguet de Graffigny. + +A few other comparatively unimportant satires similar to the +pseudo-letters may be mentioned briefly. As early as 1705 appeared _The +Consolidator, or Memoirs of sundry transactions from the World in the +Moon. Translated from the Lunar Language By the Author of the True-Born +Englishman._[225] In this prose satire Defoe imagines the author of +these _Memoirs_ journeying from China to the Moon, in a remarkable, +feathered flying-machine called the “Consolidator,” and criticizing the +state of European society, politics, and letters by comparison and +contrast with Lunar and with Chinese conditions. Defoe’s _Tour through +England_, (1724–1726), though not satire, is connected with the genre of +pseudo-letters in being written as if by a foreigner. In 1730 appeared +Paul Chamberlain’s translation of Mme. de Gomez’s _Persian +Anecdotes_,[226] “a historical romance,” purporting to be founded on +actual history: “the singular events in the life of Ismael, Sophy of +Persia,” as related in the memoirs of D’Agout, De la Porte, and De la +Forests, ambassadors of France at the Porte. The author protests +vigorously against the charge that the romance is fictitious, but the +character of the work seems to indicate that the charge is well founded. +Upon an incoherent basis of historical fact is built a still more +incoherent and rambling structure of fiction,—a panorama of stories +concerning innumerable characters, more or less connected with the +figures of the two friends, Ismael and Tor. Full of battles, +insurrections, crimes, intrigues,—political and romantic,—the book is +commonplace and of little general value. It is of interest here only +because the externals are oriental: the scenes are laid in the East; the +proper names are Eastern, and there is a slight attempt to reproduce +oriental customs. The popularity of the oriental disguise for various +purposes is also shown by books like the _Perseis or Secret Memoirs for +a History of Persia_.[227] The preface to the French original asserts +that the book is translated from an English work by an Englishman who +made at Ispahan “un assez long séjour.” A Key is affixed telling who the +different characters are, _e.g._ Cha-Abbas I. is Louis XIV.; Cha-Sephi +I., Louis XV. The history begins with the death of Cha-Abbas and +continues through part of the reign of Cha-Sephi I. It is somewhat +satirical, and contains more or less court gossip and criticism of +various personages, but is stupid reading. _The Conduct of Christians +made the sport of Infidels, in a letter from a Turkish merchant at +Amsterdam to the Grand Mufti at Constantinople on occasion of ... the +late scandalous quarrel among the clergy_ [by Kora Selym Oglan, +_pseud._], London, 1717, is a satirical pseudo-letter. _Milk for Babes, +Meat for Strong Men, and Wine for Petitioners, being a Comical, +Sarcastical, Theological Account of a late Election at Bagdad for +Cailiff of that City. Faithfully Translated from the Arabick and +Collated with the most Authentick Original Manuscripts By the Great, +Learned and Most Ingenious Alexander the Coppersmith_ [W. Boles?] ... +second edition, Cork, 1731, is a worthless political satire. _The +Oriental Chronicles of the Times; being the translation of a Chinese +manuscript supposed to have been written by Confucius the Sage_ [a +satirical account of events in 1784–1785 in defense of C. J. Fox], +London (1785), is arranged in chapters and verses like the Old Testament +and is a feeble effort. _The Trial and execution of the Grand Mufti, +From an ancient Horsleian manuscript found in the Cathedral of +Rochester_, London (1795?), is a satire on S. Horsley, Bishop of +Rochester. _A Brief and Merry History of Great Britain Containing an +account of the religious customs, etc., ... of the people written +originally in Arabick_ [by Ali Mohammed Hadji, _pseud._]. _Faithfully +rendered into English by A. H._ [A. Hillier], London (1710?), is a +carping and coarse diatribe on English manners and life, with rare +references to the superiority of Eastern ways, in the manner of the +_Turkish Spy_, but far inferior. + +Smollett’s political satire, the _History and Adventures of an Atom_ +(1769),[228] is a pretended account of Japanese events as chronicled by +a personified atom, who, by means of ridiculing the Japanese people, +actually satirizes the English, _e.g._ in the description of the +Council’s going to sleep while discussing the defense of the nation from +foreign invaders; or that of the councilor who endeavoured to make a +speech and could only cackle. Smollett’s introduction is picturesque. He +imagines himself meeting “an old maid in black Bombazine,” the +administratrix of Nathaniel Peacock. She gives him Peacock’s manuscript, +which recounts how the atom appeared to Peacock and told him of its +experiences in Japan. The book as a whole is of trifling value, +occasionally humorous or bitterly sarcastic, and often coarse.[229] +Defoe’s _System of Magic_ (1726)[230] contains the _Story of Ali +Abrahazen and the Devil_ and the _Story of the Arabian Magician in +Egypt_.[231] Finally, _The Bramine’s Journal_ by Laurence Sterne, an +unpublished manuscript now in the British Museum, is an interesting +instance of the utilization of the oriental disguise.[232] + +Enough has been said to illustrate the tendency in England to use +oriental fiction for the purpose of social and political satire. In +France such satire was frequently combined with parody of the rambling, +complicated structure of many oriental tales, _e.g._ the frame-tale; and +also with ridicule of the “oriental” style and diction. In England there +was almost no parody of the narrative form of the oriental tale. +Criticism tended rather to parody of the oriental diction and to frank +mockery of the entire genre. + +In one translation from the French the satire is purely social: +Marmontel’s _Soliman II._[233] (1764). This story, one of the cleverest +of all Marmontel’s _Contes Moraux_, recounts briefly the conquest of the +great sultan by a pretty European slave, Roxalana,—a conquest so +complete that her “little, turned-up nose” overthrows the laws of the +empire. In the original preface the author writes: “I proposed to myself +to display the folly of those who use authority to bring a woman to +reason; and I chose for an example a sultan and his slave, as being two +extremes of power and dependence.”[234] When the story opens, Soliman, +afflicted with ennui, demands in place of the “soft docility”[235] found +in his Eastern women, the charms of “hearts nourished in the bosom of +liberty.” Three European slaves are therefore brought to his seraglio. +The first, Elmira, is beautiful and affectionate; the second, Delia, has +a charming voice; with each Soliman is content for a brief time. The +third is the madcap Roxalana, who expostulates against the restraints of +the seraglio with such vivacity that, despite her lack of regular +beauty, her piquant charm “disconcerts the gravity” of Soliman. “But the +great, in his situation, have the resource of silence; and Soliman, not +knowing how to answer her, fairly walked off, concealing his +embarrassment under an air of majesty.” At another time, he says: “But, +Roxalana, do you forget who I am, and who you are?”—“Who you are and who +I am? You are powerful, I am pretty; and so we are even.” She continues +to laugh at him, to do exactly as she pleases, and to entertain him with +clever satire on European ways and Eastern customs. Finally, in order to +impress her, he allows her to see him in all his glory, receiving +ambassadors. But the effect on Roxalana is startling. “Get you gone out +of my sight,” she says to him.... “Is this your art of love? Glory and +grandeur, the only good things ... are reserved for you alone, and you +would have me love you!... If my lover had but a hut, I would share his +hut with him and be content. He has a throne; I will share his throne or +he is no lover of mine. If you think me unworthy to reign over the +Turks, send me back to my own country where all pretty women are +sovereigns.” There is nothing for Soliman to do but to marry this +extraordinary slave “in contempt of the laws of the sultans.” + +Among the translations from the French showing mingled social and +literary satire, Voltaire’s tales[236] take precedence, notably _The +Black and the White_; _The White Bull_; _The Princess of Babylon_; +_Memnon the Philosopher_; and _Bababec_. The scenes of part of +Voltaire’s _Travels of Scarmentado_ are laid in the East. _The Princess +of Babylon_ may be taken to illustrate Voltaire’s method. The aged +Belus, so the story begins, “thought himself the first man upon earth; +for all his courtiers told him so, and his historians proved it.” An +oracle had ordained that the hand of his daughter, the surpassingly +beautiful Formosanta, should be given only to the prince who could bend +the bow of Nimrod and kill a ferocious lion. At a gorgeous tournament +three kings strove in vain. Suddenly a handsome youth appeared, riding +on an unicorn and bearing a phœnix on his wrist. He bent the bow, saved +the life of one of his rivals, sent a love poem to the princess, cut off +the lion’s head, gracefully drew its teeth, replaced them with +magnificent diamonds, and gave the trophy to his phœnix. “Beautiful +bird,” said he, “carry this small homage and lay it at the feet of +Formosanta.” The great admiration and curiosity aroused, were increased +by his sudden departure on receiving news of his father’s mortal +illness. After this opening scene, the rest of the story recounts the +wanderings of the princess through almost all the known countries of +Asia and Europe in search of the stranger, until they are finally +reunited. The extravagant plot, incident, and diction of the earlier +oriental tales are entertainingly parodied, and the travels of the +princess and her lover give a good opportunity for keen satire on +European customs and ideas. For instance, in one country the princess +finds that birds also meet in a grove to worship God, and that they have +some parrots that preach wonderfully well. Voltaire’s satire strikes the +hypocrisy of self-seeking clergy, the frivolity of “at least one hundred +thousand” Parisians, and the wickedness of inquisitors who burned their +victims “for the love of God.” With satire in one hand and praise in the +other, he commends reason in the Germans, good government among the +English, and ideal government in Russia, which he calls the Cimmerians’ +land, probably meaning that ideal government is yet in Cimmerian +darkness. + +_The Black and the White_, a distinct and clever parody on oriental +stories and fairy tales, recounts the passion of Rustan for a princess +of Cashmere, who proves to be imaginary. He goes through marvelous +adventures under the guidance of a good genius, “the White,” and an evil +genius, “the Black.” But in the end he awakes out of an hour’s sleep to +find that he has dreamed all his adventures, including the death of his +princess and his own mortal wound. “Take heart,” said Topaz; “you never +were at Kaboul; ... the princess cannot be dead, because she never was +born; and you are in perfect health.” _The White Bull_ is a similar +satire on oriental stories and fairy tales, and also on the miracles of +the Old Testament and ignorant worship. The White Bull is the +metamorphosed Nebuchadnezzar, who receives human form at the last and +marries the princess of Egypt. Other characters are the Witch of Endor, +Jonah’s whale, Balaam’s ass, and the serpent of Eden. _Memnon the +Philosopher_ is a satire on the vanity of attempting to be a perfect +philosopher. _Bababec_ is a sketch, mocking the folly of religious +fanatics by describing the Fakir who becomes famous and thinks himself +religious because he tortures himself with nails, in contrast with the +wisdom of men who live useful, sensible lives.[237] _The Travels of +Scarmentado_, a satire on persecution for conscience’ sake, recounts one +incident that recalls _The Female Captive_ (cf. p. 50, _ante_). The hero +hears a fair Circassian say “Alla, Illa, Alla” so tenderly that he +thinks the words are expressions of love, and repeats them in his turn. +He is accused of having become a Turk by saying those words, and escapes +only with a fine. He flees to Persia. In his own words: “On my arrival +at Ispahan, the people asked me whether I was for white or black mutton? +I told them that it was a matter of indifference to me, provided it was +tender. It must be observed that the Persian empire was at that time +split into two factions, that of the white mutton and that of the black. +The two parties imagined that I had made a jest of them both; so that I +found myself engaged in a very troublesome affair at the gates of the +city, and it cost me a great number of sequins to get rid of the white +and the black mutton.” + +In all these tales—even those that are apparently written for mere +amusement—Voltaire’s genius, masterly command of his material, and +intense hatred of hypocrisy and injustice give to his satire a keen and +penetrating quality which at once differentiates it from the +comparatively care-free and superficial fun of Marmontel, Caylus, +Bougeant, and Hamilton. + +The three last named are the only other French satirists of any +consequence whose works were translated into English in this period. +_The Oriental Tales_ (1745)[238] of Caylus is a good parody of the +collections of oriental stories. The frame-tale, itself a satire upon +the interminable method of story within story, is briefly as follows: +Hudjadge, King of Persia, though gentle by nature, grows tyrannical from +insomnia. He commands his jailer on pain of death to find a story-teller +who can lull him to sleep. The jailer’s beautiful daughter Moradbak +offers herself somewhat as Scheherazade does in the _Arabian Nights_, +and succeeds so admirably that the sultan sleeps in peace, regains his +temper, and marries her. The first tale she tells is the appropriate +_History of Dakianos and the Seven Sleepers_, and the king, “whose eyes +had begun to close during the recital, ... came to himself when she had +ceased speaking. ‘I am satisfied,’ said he; ... ‘I listened with some +attention to the beginning of the history, but I did not interest myself +much for thy little dog, and I was almost asleep with Jemlikha, as if I +had been in his cavern; therefore, I know not much of what passed +afterwards.’—‘If your majesty has the least curiosity ... I will +begin ... again.’—‘No, no,’ said the king, ‘I have enough for the first +time.’” After another tale “the sultan ... had appeared very wide awake +all the time, though he might with reason have dropt asleep at some +parts of it.” Caylus succeeded only too well with his parody; most of +his stories are decidedly soporific. A few familiar tales, such as the +_Seven Sleepers_, and some entertaining stories like _Jahia and +Meimoune_, break the otherwise uniform monotony. For oriental colouring +we find the usual references to Mohametan legend: the mountain of Kaf, +which surrounds the world and is composed of one emerald; the angel +Israphil; magical flights; genii and monsters; devout heroes; Solomon’s +ring; a treasure-cave accessible to an old dervish by means of his magic +candlestick; and curious riddles like those in the _Persian Tales_. The +descriptions are fantastic, extravagant, and occasionally coarse. Though +the _Oriental Tales_ is said to have been based upon genuine oriental +manuscripts, it shows few traces of any such source, and is of value +chiefly as exemplifying the tendency towards parody. + +_The Wonderful Travels of Prince Fan-Feredin, in the country of Arcadia, +interspersed with observations historical, geographical, physical, +critical, and moral. Translated from the original French of Guillaume +Hyacinthe Bougeant_, Northampton, n. d.,[239] is an entertaining parody +on the heroic romances by name, _e.g._ _Astrea_, _Palmerin_, etc., and +on the fairy tales, with occasional satirical remarks on the oriental +tales as well. + +One of the most popular of all the parodies and satires that followed so +rapidly on the heels of the extravagant pseudo-translations in France +was _Fleur d’Epine_, by Count Anthony Hamilton, the author of the +_Memoirs of Count Grammont_. The English version, _Thorn-Flower_, +1760,[240] lost much of the wit and charm of Hamilton’s style, and yet +kept, of course, the humour of situation and narrative. How Hamilton +began to write these tales, half earnest, half satirical, is quite in +keeping with their light and entertaining character. “The conversation +happened to turn in a company in which he was present on the _Arabian +Nights’ Entertainments_, which were just published; every one highly +commended the book; many seemed to hint at the difficulty of writing +that species of composition. ‘Nothing can be more easy,’ replied Count +Hamilton, ‘and as a proof of it I will venture to write a Circassian +tale after the manner of the _Arabian Nights’ Entertainments_ on any +subject which you can mention.’—‘Fiddlesticks!’ (Tarare) replied the +other.—‘You have hit it,’ said Count Hamilton; ‘and I promise you that I +shall produce a tale in which Fiddlestick shall be the principal hero.’ +In a few days he finished this tale, which he called _Fleur d’Epine_. It +was much read and admired in Paris.”[241] The popularity is not +surprising, for the story is an exceedingly clever imitation—and +parody—of its extravagant predecessors. The author pretends that it is +one of the _Arabian Nights’ Entertainments_, and in the introductory +scene puts into the mouth of Dinarzade some capital mockery of the +long-winded confusion of some of her sister Scheherazade’s tales. +Throughout, as in Hamilton’s other tales, the interruptions and comments +by the audience form comic interludes. Hamilton has caught the manner of +the earlier stories admirably, and heightens it in ostensible +seriousness just enough to bring it within the pale of ridicule. To say +that his story is located far in the East is not sufficient. He proceeds +to say exactly how far: “two thousand four hundred and fifty leagues +from here.” His princess, like her prototypes, is superlatively fair; +but, moreover, her eyes are so brilliant that men die from her glance as +if struck by lightning, and the artist who paints her portrait is +obliged to wear smoked glasses. The introduction of the hero is +farcical. He is a disguised prince, and when asked by the caliph what +his name is, startles the whole court by replying, “‘Tarare!’ +(Fiddlestick!) ‘Tarare!’ says the caliph; ‘Tarare!’ say all the +counselors; ‘Tarare!’ says the Chancellor. ‘I ask you,’ says the caliph, +‘what is your name?’—‘I know it well, Sire,’ he replies.—‘Well, then,’ +says the caliph.—‘Tarare!’ says the other, making a bow.... ‘And why are +you named Tarare?’—‘Because that is not my name.’ ‘And how so?’ says the +caliph.—‘It is because I have dropped my name to assume this one,’ says +he.—‘Nothing could be clearer,’ says the caliph, ‘and yet it would have +taken me more than a month to find it out.’” The characterization is +purposely colourless, as in the parodied tales. Yet there is +occasionally a clever bit of character analysis, such as the account of +May-Flower’s sudden interest in her rival. In the use of magic, +Hamilton’s fancy runs riot side by side with his keen sense of the +ridiculous; here his parody reaches its highest point. One of the tasks +set the hero is the theft from an old witch of the “sounding mare.” That +remarkable creature carried a golden bell on every hair, and thus made +“ravishing music.” The ingenious Tarare silenced this music by filling +each bell with a kind of glue, mounted the mare with May-Flower, and +fled from the pursuing sorceress. The latter nearly succeeded in coming +up with them, when at the last desperate moment, “Sonante,” the mare, +shook her left ear three times. The prince found in it a little stone, +which he threw over his left shoulder. Instantly and just in time to +save them there arose out of the ground a protecting wall, only sixty +feet high, but so long that one could see neither the beginning nor the +end. Other difficulties in the hero’s path consisted of the animals that +opposed his passage through the forest. “One would say that these +accursed beasts knew his purpose, for in place of taking pains to come +at him, they merely spread out to right and left; three hydras, ten +rhinoceroses, and some half dozen of griffons, gazed upon his progress. +He knew the rules of war well enough; so, after having examined the +situation and their appearance, he saw their design, and since the sides +were not equal, he had recourse to stratagem.” One marvelous event is +piled upon another until the author breaks out into an apostrophe: “Oh! +how great a help are enchantments in the dénouement of an intrigue or +end of a tale!” + +Another of Count Hamilton’s stories, _Le Bélier_,[242] half parody, half +imitation of the fairy tales, incidentally pokes fun at the oriental +tales, too. The fair heroine, Alie, insane with love, imagines that she +is Scheherazade in the _Thousand and One Nights_, and that she must at +once tell a tale. In the midst of her soliloquy she falls asleep, to be +awakened by her father, who is somewhat startled to have her address him +as “Great Commander of the Faithful!” The Ram is an enchanted prince who +tells a tale to his master, the giant, beginning abruptly: “‘After the +white fox was wounded, the queen did not fail to visit him.’ ‘Friend +Ram,’ said the giant, interrupting him, ‘I do not understand that at +all. If you would begin at the beginning, you would give me pleasure; +these tales that begin in the middle only confuse[243] my +imagination.’—‘Very well,’ said the Ram. ‘I consent, against the usual +custom, to put each event in its place; the beginning of my story shall +be at the commencement of my recital.’” Later, when the story-teller +follows the conventional method in leaving some of his personages on a +magic island at a critical juncture, the giant again objects, and +forbids him to leave the island until he has quite finished their story. +Of talismans, Hamilton says: “Great was the virtue of ancient talismans, +and even greater the faith of those that believed in them.” He describes +extravagant emotions thus: “Joy, astonishment, and anxiety were +simultaneously depicted on the face of the druid, though it is rather +difficult to depict them all at once on the same face.” + +_Les Quatre Facardins_,[244] the last in order of composition of +Hamilton’s tales, is the least interesting. As the author confesses, in +his rhymed preface, one who like himself sets out jokingly to imitate +and to make fun of such absurdities ends by becoming equally absurd. +That is true of _The Four Facardins_. No oriental tale could be more +extravagant in plot and incident. The various adventures of the four +princes of the same name, Facardin, are so utterly tangled that the +reader, like the giant in _Le Bélier_, feels as if his imagination were +becoming “embrouillée.” It is not surprising that the author left the +story unfinished. The frame-tale begins hopefully to recount how Prince +Facardin of Trebizonde tells his adventures to Sultan Schariar, +Scheherazade, and Dinarzade; but, after the other Facardins begin their +own stories, the main thread would be hard to follow, were that +necessary. Their various adventures include encounters with lions, +enchanters, giants, and fair ladies, and are enlivened with fanciful +descriptions,—sometimes in questionable taste,—and occasional humour. On +the whole _The Four Facardins_ is not nearly so entertaining as +Hamilton’s other tales. + +The only English writer who made a deliberate attempt to parody the +structure of the oriental tales was Horace Walpole. His _Hieroglyphic +Tales_ (1785)[245] are, as the postscript says, “mere whimsical trifles, +written chiefly for private amusement; half a dozen copies only are +printed.” But even though a mere skit, the book is interesting as a +straw to show which way the wind was blowing. The Preface is a rather +clever satire on the pretentious, highly moralistic, and would-be +scholarly prefaces to oriental tales; and informs the reader that “the +Hieroglyphic Tales were undoubtedly written a little before the creation +of the world ... and preserved by oral tradition in the mountains of +Crampcraggi, an uninhabited island not yet discovered.” The seven short +stories which make up the book are somewhat similar to Hamilton’s. The +scene of the first, _A New Arabian Nights’ Entertainment_, is laid in +the kingdom of Larbidel. “The other side of the mountain was inhabited +by a nation of whom the Larbidellians knew no more than the French +nobility do of Great Britain, which they think is an island that somehow +or other may be approached by land.” The other stories are also +parodies: _The King and his Three Daughters_; _The Dice-box_; _The Peach +in Brandy, a Milesian Tale_; _Mi Li, a Chinese Fairy Tale_; and a +_Venetian Love-story_ of two black slaves who prove to be dogs. + +Walpole’s tone of supercilious mockery toward the oriental tales was +typical of critical opinion generally between the middle of the century +and the end of our period (c. 1786). Preluded by Pope’s ridicule of +Ambrose Philips as + + “The bard whom pilfer’d Pastorals renown, + Who Turns a Persian Tale for half-a-crown,” + +such criticism found its best expression in Goldsmith. _The Citizen of +the World_ (_Letter_ XXXIII.) ridicules authors who attempt “to write in +the true Eastern style, where nothing is required but sublimity.” Lien +Chi is amused to hear an English lady say: “Oh, for a history of +Aboulfaouris [_sic_], the grand voyager, of genii, magicians, rocs, bags +of bullets, giants, and enchanters, where all is great, obscure, +magnificent, and unintelligible;” and even more amused when an author in +the company rejoins: “I have written many a sheet of Eastern tale +myself ... and I defy the severest critic to say but that I have stuck +close to the true manner. I have compared a lady’s chin to the snow upon +the mountains of Bomek; a soldier’s sword to the clouds that obscure the +face of heaven. If riches are mentioned, I compare them to the flocks +that graze the verdant Tefflis; if poverty, to the mists that veil the +brow of mount Baku. I have used _thee_ and _thou_ upon all occasions, I +have described fallen stars, and splitting mountains, not forgetting the +little Houris who make a pretty figure in every description. But you +shall hear how I generally begin. ‘Eben-ben-bolo, who was the son of +Ban, was born on the foggy summits of Benderabassi. His beard was whiter +than the feathers which veil the breast of the Penguin; his eyes were +like the eyes of doves, when washed by the dews of the morning; his +hair, which hung like the willow weeping over the glassy stream, was so +beautiful that it seemed to reflect its own brightness; and his feet +were as the feet of a wild deer, which fleeth to the tops of the +mountains.’ There, there, is the true Eastern taste for you; every +advance made towards sense is only a deviation from sound. Eastern tales +should always be sonorous, lofty, musical, and unmeaning.” + +Except for the _Arabian Nights_, many of the oriental tales that had +appeared up to 1760–1761, when Goldsmith wrote, or even up to the date +of Walpole’s parody (1785), gave considerable provocation for such +criticism. Indeed, to a certain extent, the vogue of these tales was +another expression of the tendency more grotesquely manifested in the +current craze, likewise ridiculed, for Chinese domestic architecture and +house furnishings. “A few years ago,” William Whitehead writes (_World_, +No. 12, 1753), “everything was Gothic, now it is Chinese.” In 1754 +William Lloyd describes a country place decorated by “Chinese artists”:— + + “The trav’ler with amazement sees + A temple, Gothic or Chinese; + With many a bell and tawdry rag on, + And crested with a wooden dragon.”[246] + +The _World_, No. 117, ridicules the “applause so fondly given to Chinese +decorations or to the barbarous productions of a Gothic genius which +seems once more to threaten the ruin of ... [Greek] ... simplicity ... +[which is so] ... superior.” The same essay describes a visit to Lady +Fiddlefaddle’s Chinese dressing-room. She had thrown aside her +grandfather’s fine Italian pictures for the sake of red dragons, +“pagods,” and ugly monsters. Just as “the Greek and Roman architecture +are discarded for the novelties of China ... [so] Correggio is neglected +for gothic designs ... and the tinsel of a Burletta has more admirers +than the gold of Shakespeare.”[247] It may be, Warton goes on to say, +that an attempt to improve this state of learning and taste will be +thought “romantic ... and chimerical.” The _Connoisseur_, No. 122, +ridicules the faults of a man of fashion who goes so far as to think the +Bible to be “as romantic as the Alcoran.” To a writer in the _World_, +No. 70, one redeeming quality in the craze for oriental tales is the +fact that some of them “contain useful morals and well-drawn pictures +from common life.” A later contributor to the same periodical, No. 121, +writes to the editor: “Among the many visions related by your +predecessors and contemporaries, the writers of periodical essays, I +remember few but what have been in the oriental style.” And he adds a +sentence which may be taken as epitomizing the critical opinion of his +contemporaries: “For my own part, I am neither Dervise nor Brachman, but +a poet and a true Christian.” + + + + + CHAPTER V + LITERARY ESTIMATE + + +Upon a general survey of the four groups of oriental tales described in +the preceding chapters, one is impressed by the exceedingly diversified +nature of the collection, and—paradoxical though the statement may +seem—by the presence of a sufficient number of common qualities to give +the collection as a whole a distinctive character: it is “the oriental +tale in England in the eighteenth century.” In form this fiction +includes within its wide range the frame-tale, in which +stories—sometimes in letter-form—are inclosed; isolated apologues and +other short tales used to point the moral of an Addisonian or Johnsonian +essay; fantastic tales in which adventure is everything; tales equally +fantastic but coloured by satire; and tales with the thinnest possible +thread of plot to sustain the predominant satiric, moralistic, or +philosophic purpose. The characterization is uniformly slight, and tends +toward more or less abstract types. The scene is laid in the Orient, +from Egypt to China, or in Europe visited by Orientals; and is given a +picturesque background of strange Eastern customs, sometimes enriched by +allusions to religious or philosophical beliefs, often by lavish use of +magic and enchantment. Oriental or pseudo-oriental nomenclature aids in +producing the desired effect of remoteness. The language is usually +coloured by oriental phraseology, and is frequently—but not +necessarily—figurative and inflated. As might be expected, the amount of +local colour, the richness of detail, and the truth to oriental manners +and places are greater as the stories approximate genuine Eastern +fiction like the _Arabian Nights_. At the other end of the scale, in +thoroughly Anglicized oriental tales, such as _Rasselas_ and +_Nourjahad_, the background is pale and shadowy, details are sparse, and +references to Eastern places and customs are rare. But in all this +fiction there is a distinctly exotic flavour, distilled through the +medium of eighteenth-century ideas. + +The general course of development of the genre in England followed the +lines of the similar French movement, but with characteristically +different emphasis. In France the movement—preluded by the +pseudo-oriental satire, _The Turkish Spy_—was initiated by highly +imaginative oriental translations contemporaneous with the fairy tales +of Perrault. It was continued by imitations in which qualities from both +oriental tales and fairy tales were blended,—notably extravagant +invention and magic; by literary parodies aimed at form and style; and +by social satires, ranging from comments on manners to philosophic +criticism of life. Finally, the natural decline of the oriental tale as +a genre, together with that of the fairy tale, was hastened by the +weight of extreme license on the one hand and of moralistic didacticism +on the other. In England, the _Arabian Nights_ and its companions were +warmly welcomed, but there was no sudden efflorescence of imaginative +and fanciful fiction as there had been in France. English writers at +first contented themselves, as far as imaginative tales were concerned, +with translating from the French. It is worth noting that they did not +translate the fairy tales of Perrault until 1729.[248] The blending of +the fairy tales with the oriental tales in France was one of the most +striking characteristics of the movement, and the comparative lack of +the fairy element in England limited, in so far, the initial scope of +the English movement. But in France, after the first furore, no new +kinds of purely imaginative oriental stories or fairy tales appeared; +while in England, from time to time throughout the century, imaginative +oriental tales were written, including realistic stories, a tragic +romance, _Charoba_ (translated from a seventeenth-century French +version), and a tale of terror, _Vathek_. In both countries dramas, +especially farces, were based on this fiction.[249] + +Satire in France—as suggested above—followed two lines of development: +the social line inaugurated by Marana, and the literary or parodic,—a +natural reaction from the extravagances of the imaginative tales. +English satire in oriental guise was chiefly social, occasionally +political, rarely parodic. The reaction against the enthusiasm with +which the oriental tales had been greeted, was voiced not so much in +actual parody as in direct ridicule or critical disapproval. Pope’s +friend, Bishop Atterbury, was not alone in thinking “the Arabian Tales” +“so extravagant, monstrous, and disproportioned” that they “gave a +judicious eye pain.”[250] Pope’s own gibe at the hack-writer who could +“turn a Persian tale for half-a-crown” was echoed fifty years later by +Goldsmith: “Mr. Tibs [is] a very _useful hand_; he writes receipts for +the bite of a mad dog and throws off an eastern tale to +perfection.”[251] What there was of parody was directed against the +so-called oriental diction and phraseology, while in France parody was +aimed chiefly at the narrative form and the extravagance of incident. On +the whole, English satire had a narrower range and followed chiefly the +line of light and cheerful humour best exemplified in _The Citizen of +the World_. French satire, more pervasive and more penetrating, +expressed—especially when touched by the genius of Voltaire and +Montesquieu—something of the deep unrest of France in the eighteenth +century, the era before the Revolution. Even the _contes philosophiques_ +are tinged with satire. The typical English writer of philosophic +oriental tales, on the contrary, dwelt in an imaginary country of pure +speculation, and entered the world of fact only for the purpose of +moralizing. + +The emphasis which in France was thrown upon satire fell in England upon +philosophy and morals. From _The Vision of Mirza_ to _Rasselas_; from +Parnell’s _Hermit_ to Miss Edgeworth’s _Murad the Unlucky_; throughout +the entire period the two tendencies were steadily prominent. At the +outset, Addison and Steele set the example of wresting the new +imaginative oriental fiction just received from France out of its +original shape into something more conformable to their sincere ideas of +worthy literature. Dr. Johnson and many others, especially in the +periodical essays, intensified this didactic tradition. In literary +merit the philosophic tales take precedence over the moralistic, though +the latter are far more numerous. Enough has been said in the preceding +chapters to make clear the character of the two groups. The questions at +present of greater importance in our discussion are the reasons why the +genre in England followed the philosophic and moralistic tendencies and +the other lines of development mentioned in the preceding paragraphs. +How may we account for the presence and more or less general popularity +of this fiction in England during the eighteenth century? Why were the +imaginative tales so soon diverted to didactic purposes? + +The environment into which the _Arabian Nights_ and the _Persian Tales_ +came was that of an age which expressed itself most naturally in +rationalistic prose and satiric verse. The moralizing tendency, +characteristic also of the eighteenth century on the continent, has been +called a fundamental instinct of the British character; and at that time +was so powerful and widespread as to colour all English literature. Even +Fielding did not escape, much less the writers of these Eastern stories. +The environment proved stronger than the new organism. Too exotic to +become easily acclimated, such tales were regarded as entertaining +trifles, to be tolerated seriously only when utilized to point a moral. +The moralizing tendency and the rationalistic mood were two barriers +opposed to the free development of imaginative oriental fiction. A third +obstacle was the deference shown to the canons of French classicism. All +things French were welcomed, but only those sanctioned by Boileau found +lasting and serious consideration; and the sober second thought of +Augustan criticism was thus strengthened in its disdain of the oriental +tale. Furthermore, a barrier existed in the insularity of English life +and thought. Aside from her connection with France, England was +surprisingly insular in the early eighteenth century. Literary England +was confined, in large measure, to London alone, because of the +practical difficulties of communicating with the country. Roads were +bad, journeys difficult and perilous. Foreign travel was by no means so +common as later in the century. The East was indeed the “Far East,” +chiefly used as a figure of speech for fabulous wealth or excessive +tyranny. Usually the contrast was drawn in favour of England. Dyer, in +his poem, _The Fleece_, even praises the happy English sheep in +comparison with the less favoured sheep of other lands. Mohammedanism +was regarded as an imposture and Buddhism was practically unknown. It +was not until the victories of Clive in India and the era of expansion +under the elder Pitt that England took any vital interest in the +Orient,—an interest first expressed in literature by direct translations +from oriental language in the last quarter of the century. In the +earlier decades, England, on the whole prosperous and peaceful under +Walpole’s long rule, was satisfied with her insularity; a feeling voiced +by Shenstone in the poem entitled, _Declining an invitation to visit +foreign Countries, he takes Occasion to intimate the Advantages of his +own_.[252] + +But, even had there been no such obstacles to overcome in the +environment, a barrier to the free imaginative development of the +oriental tale would have existed in the character of the first +eighteenth-century translations of oriental fiction. They lacked too +frequently not only the graphic detail, which in accounts of far distant +lands fascinates the reader, but also the deeper elements of +characterization that make the whole world kin and are the most potent +means of breaking down superficial barriers between alien peoples. When +Galland prepared his version of the _Arabian Nights_ for European +readers, he omitted not only the coarseness of the original, but also +many of its interesting minutiæ, details which give to our later +versions—Burton’s and Payne’s, for instance—the charm of good tales of +travel, and produce in the reader the vivid sense of actually being in +the picturesque Orient. The French and English successors of Galland +followed him in this respect and fell short even of his achievement. +Hardly any English writers until past the middle of the century knew or +apparently cared to know the East well, either through travel or through +books; hence the pale and colourless quality of their oriental +fiction.[253] Beckford was the first to introduce much picturesque +detail, and in so doing anticipated the methods of Moore, Southey, +Byron, and their successors. + +The lack of vivid descriptions, however, was far less serious than the +presence of alien elements without the saving grace of deep human +interest. Unlike Gothic legend, Celtic poem, or English ballad, the +oriental tale formed no intimate part of the national heritage. +Something latent or sleeping in the nature of the English people was +roused during this century by a sudden revival of interest in things +their ancestors had loved and lived with; and Percy’s _Reliques_, +Walpole’s _Castle of Otranto_, the _Poems of Ossian_, struck a +responsive chord. But the oriental tale was alien; and incident, +atmosphere, fancies, understood and liked by Eastern listeners, seemed +too grotesque and incredible to make more than a limited appeal to +untraveled English readers. They welcomed, rather, with characteristic +heartiness the homely, realistic background of Defoe’s stories. If the +oriental tale had emphasized the more fundamental elements of human +character—the passions of love, hate, ambition, revenge—in addition to +the spirit of adventure and delight in the picturesque and the +mysterious, then whatever was alien in setting or incident would have +been no barrier. For instance, the oriental custom most frequently +alluded to by English writers throughout the century is the suttee. They +were impressed not only by the outlandish barbarity of the custom, but +also by the universal ideal of supreme fidelity in love and heroic +devotion to religious belief. Witness also the strong appeal made to-day +to Western imaginations by modern versions of Afghan ballads afire with +passion; or by romantic legends like that of the Persian sculptor, +Farhad, and the Princess Schirin.[254] + +But in spite of all these barriers to the free imaginative development +of this fiction,—the rationalistic classicism; the moralistic, +philosophic, and satiric moods; the insularity of the English people; +and the alien characteristics of the oriental tale,—nevertheless, the +presence and the genuine if limited popularity of this fiction in +eighteenth-century England are undeniable facts. The reasons behind +these facts will bring us to the question of the ultimate significance +of the genre as a manifestation of the Romantic spirit. + +The first and obvious reason for the welcome given the oriental tale by +the London of Pope and Addison—despite Bishop Atterbury’s censure—was +that it came from France. Especially since 1660, French influence had +prevailed in England, French literary critics were regarded as +authoritative, and French fashions in literature were followed. Since, +then, the vogue of the oriental tale was so great in France, it was +naturally echoed in England. That the fairy tales—equally popular in +France—did not cross the Channel at that time may be due to the fact +that Perrault drew directly from French folk-lore, and hence made an +especial appeal to the French people; and that the Countess D’Aulnoy and +other aristocratic ladies gave to the stories they retold from +Straparola a prestige only local. Moreover, the fairy tales—charming as +they are—lack the quality possessed by the _Arabian Nights_,—what we +have called “the sense of reality in the midst of unreality,” a quality +particularly attractive to English readers. + +The same fact of French influence accounts largely for the favourable +reception given to the _Turkish Spy_, and later to the _Lettres +Persanes_. The popularity of such oriental pseudo-letters in England was +a part of a general European tendency.[255] Similarly England had shared +in a widely diffused interest in an analogous form of satire; that of +Boccalini’s _Ragguagli di Parnaso_, a type generally known and +frequently imitated throughout seventeenth-century Europe.[256] +Boccalini had imagined Apollo, king of Parnassus, conducting discussions +among his courtiers,—men of genius from every nation and age,—and +passing criticism on political and literary questions; Boccalini himself +being the reporter who brought these “Advices” from Parnassus to Europe. +The analogy between such satire and that of Marana is striking. In one +sense Apollo and the departed shades, observing Europe from the remote +regions of mythology, were forerunners and equivalents of the later +learned Turkish spies, Persian travelers, and Chinese philosophers from +the Far East.[257] + +Another reason for the welcome given the _Arabian Nights_ and _The +Persian Tales_ is found in connection with the history of the novel. +The elements of interest essential to great narrative art are plot, +character, and background. Of these essentials it has been said that +the _Sir Roger de Coverley_ papers possess two: admirable +characterization and well-defined background; and that the absence +of plot alone denies to _Sir Roger de Coverley_ the name of the +first English novel.[258] Almost exactly contemporary with the _De +Coverley_ papers appeared the _Arabian Nights_; and, in the light of +what has just been said, the auspicious reception of these oriental +tales gains new significance. Stories of pure adventure, in +fantastic and often brilliant setting, sometimes emotional or +sentimental, never strong in characterization—they offered just that +element of plot which was lacking in the periodical sketches. The +plot, indeed, is frequently strong only in incident, and is tangled +in construction. Yet, in the _Arabian Nights_, there are several +tales that, in certain respects, deserve to be called classical; +_Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves_, or _Zeyn Alasnam and the King of +the Genii_, for instance, despite all their oriental decorations, +are admirably simple and well-proportioned; and the _Arabian +Nights_, as a whole, is a treasure-house of story perhaps +unsurpassed in literature. Nothing so rich in adventurous incident +appeared in England until _Robinson Crusoe_ (1719); and in plot +nothing so well-constructed as some of these tales until Fielding’s +masterpieces. Historians of English fiction have insufficiently +recognized the fact that the oriental tale was one of the forms of +literature that gave to the reading public in Augustan England the +element of plot which, to a certain extent, supplemented that of +character, afforded by sketches like the _De Coverley_ papers. The +English novel, as a recent writer has pointed out in his admirable +outline of its history, is particularly rich in the variety of +elements assisting in its development. Of the seventeenth century he +writes: “The heroic romance died and left no issue. And the +influence that the century exercised on the growth of pure fiction, +the foundations it laid for the coming novel, are to be sought, not +in the writers of romance, but in the followers of other branches of +literature, often remote enough from fiction, in satirists and +allegorists, newspaper scribes and biographers, writers of travel +and adventure, and fashionable comic playwrights.”[259] Yet the +translators of oriental fiction in the early eighteenth +century—“writers of romance” in one sense though they were—deserve a +place among these diverse influences. The _Arabian Nights_ was the +fairy godmother of the English novel. + +But the love of story for the story’s sake was not the only or the chief +reason for the welcome given the _Arabian Nights_ and its immediate +successors. In France, the popularity of these fantastic and marvelous +stories, restless in plot and exuberant in colour, had testified to a +truant desire to escape from the strict artistic rules and classical +ideals of masters like Boileau. Conditions were similar in England. +Pseudo-classicism was the natural literary ideal of the men gathered in +the coffee-houses around Pope and Addison. The rule of reason, of order, +of good sense, was unquestioned; and, to so keen and clever a society, +the satiric verse of Pope was ideal poetry. But even the author of the +_Essay on Criticism_ allowed his fancy to stray at times beyond the +well-defined limits of traditional art. He enjoyed the Arabian Tales, +commended them to his friend, Bishop Atterbury,[260] and planned himself +to write a “wild” Eastern tale.[261] Lady Montagu did much to excite and +to gratify curiosity concerning Turkish life by her entertaining letters +from Constantinople.[262] Swift read the _Arabian Nights_ and fairy +tales. He writes to Stella: “I borrowed one or two idle books of _Contes +des Fées_ and have been reading them these two days, although I have +much business upon my hands.”[263] Goldsmith dreamed ardently of a +journey to the Far East,[264] and Dr. Johnson himself came somewhat +under the oriental spell. The men of the eighteenth century were not +devoid of passion and imagination; they were not without a love for the +country, though they liked the town far better; they were not without an +appreciation of nature, though they preferred cultivated plains to +“horrid Alps”; but they considered it bad form to express such feelings +in polite society or in serious literature. Oppressed by the bare and +hard rationalism of the day, people craved more and more earnestly +adequate food for their imagination, their fancy, their emotion. This +hunger explains the growing interest in varied fields of artistic +activity: the popularity of the new Italian operas and of Handel’s +oratorios, the vogue of the bourgeois drama, the interest in Hogarth’s +realistic art, and the appearance of nature poetry like Thomson’s +_Seasons_. + +To the general though gradual romantic expansion of outlook there are +many witnesses; and it is significant to note that the strand of +interest in the Orient is interwoven with other romantic threads. As +early as 1692, Sir William Temple shows interest in Norse poetry and +mythology, in Indian and Chinese life and art.[265] Addison soon follows +with his defense of _Chevy Chase_; Ambrose Philips, the translator of +the _Persian Tales_, also edits old English ballads, and Bishop Percy, +toward the end of the period, manifests a curious range of interest: +English ballads, Northern antiquities, Chinese literature, etc.[266] +Similarly in France, Caylus, Pétis de la Croix, and Galland had been +antiquarians as well as orientalists. In such a widening of outlook the +Romantic Movement resembles the Renaissance. + +The chief reason, then, for the popularity of the oriental fiction was +its romantic character. No wonder that the growing demands of the +reaction against pseudo-classicism found a certain satisfaction in these +extraordinary tales, which brought into the comparatively gray and +colourless life of Augustan England the fascinating marvels of oriental +legend, encompassed, even in the translations from the French, by +something of the magical atmosphere and strange glamour of the East. It +would be as difficult as superfluous to analyze the world-wide charm of +these tales. The caliph in disguise, wandering the streets of Bagdad in +search of adventure, appeals to the same naïve sense of delight that is +excited by Richard Cœur-de-Lion or Robin Hood. There is in most people +at all times something of the child’s love of the marvelous. In the +eighteenth century a special reason for the popularity of these tales +lay in the fact that they offered to the reactionary spirit, always +characteristic of romanticism, romantic themes and treatment, and voiced +the romantic mood. In varying degree these stories show a love of +adventure and of mystery; a desire to excite the feelings of surprise, +horror, or delight; a child’s joy in the extravagant, the unusual, and +the exotic; and an equally childlike desire to achieve the apparently +impossible. The _Persian Tales_ is tinged with sentimentalism; +Anglicized tales such as _Rasselas_ sound a decided note of subjectivity +and melancholy; _Vathek_ is unreal and “wild.” It is interesting to find +Horace Walpole calling his _Castle of Otranto_ “so wild a tale,” for +just this quality of wildness in both the oriental and the Gothic tale +manifests romantic longings. In the one there is the reactionary desire +to escape to the far-away, mysterious East,—the remote in space; in the +other, the desire to return to the Middle Ages,—the remote in time; in +both, the longing for picturesque colouring, for magical atmosphere, for +strangeness, coupled sometimes with beauty, sometimes with horror. + +But, it may be said, the oriental tale is romantic only in external +qualities, and should be classed as pseudo-romantic. Every romantic +revival passes through a stage of what may be called pseudo-romanticism +or, more accurately, superficial romanticism, gradually deepening and +strengthening as it grows toward its culmination. The movement known in +literary history as the Romantic Movement in England began almost +imperceptibly early in the eighteenth century. Its sources were as +diverse as those of the English novel. If we take as the highest +standards of English romanticism the picturesque, objective mediævalism +of Scott; the deep spirituality of Wordsworth; the intense subjectivity +of Emily Bronté; Shelley’s “cloudless clarity of light”; the strange +beauty of Keats’s verse,—the sense of melancholy, of mystery, of +sympathy with sorrow found in all great romantic poets,—then the +beginnings of English romanticism seem what they are, mere beginnings, +so remote from the great romantic literature that the difference in +degree amounts to a difference in kind. From this point of view, +critical analysis, noting that the Gothic tale and the oriental tale +lack the more subtle and essential elements of the romantic spirit, +justly regards them as romantic only in externals. + +Yet romanticism is a relative term; and if all that is not romantic in +the highest sense be dismissed as unromantic, there is great danger of +ignoring the gradual evolution of the profounder elements of the +romantic spirit and of overlooking the genuine romanticism latent or +obscured in early romantic art. Critics of classicism, who regard solely +the highest forms in which that literary tendency embodies itself, often +pay the penalty of losing perspective, of disregarding evolution. If the +great classics—Homer, Æschylus, Virgil—be taken as the norm, then works +of the later Greek or Roman periods, or the so-called “classic” period +in France, may be regarded justly as pseudo-classical. At the same time, +genuinely classical qualities are present in Racine and Corneille, and +must be recognized, together with the equally obvious pseudo-classical +elements, as contributing to the evolution of French classicism. Here, +again, it is a question of the point of view. Criticism may consider a +work of art in the light of the absolute standard,—the ideal,—and may +also consider it in relation to the evolution of literary types or +tendencies. + +In judging a romantic revival, such criticism finds its task at once +peculiarly difficult and peculiarly interesting; for the very nature of +romanticism is elusive, and its methods are those of symbolism and +suggestion rather than of clear definition. Yet, taking a broad view +over the entire romantic revival in England,—and the same holds true of +France in even greater degree,—one can see clearly that the orientalism +and pseudo-orientalism of the eighteenth century distinctly preluded the +use of oriental material by the romantic writers of the early nineteenth +century. As Allan Ramsay and Thomson prepared the way for Burns and +Wordsworth, so, less obviously, but none the less truly, the translators +and writers of the oriental tale, together with historians and +travelers, were forerunners of Southey, Moore, Byron, Matthew Arnold, +Fitzgerald, and many others, on to Kipling in the present day. + +Moreover, the oriental tale directly contributed romantic elements to +the imaginative inheritance of later writers. Its influence is clearly +traceable throughout the entire nineteenth century. We have seen that +the _History of Charoba_ was the acknowledged inspiration of Landor’s +_Gebir_. _Vathek_ exerted great influence on Byron’s youthful work, an +influence easily understood if one recalls the mockery, the +sensuousness, and the brilliant setting of Beckford’s masterpiece, and +especially the sinister horror of the catastrophe.[267] Barry Cornwall +drew more definitely from _Vathek_ in his brief poem, _The Hall of +Eblis_.[268] Beckford himself borrowed directly from the _Adventures of +Abdalla_ and the _Mogul Tales_.[269] Lewis may have derived his tale of +terror, _The Monk_, from a _Turkish Tale_.[270] Possibly Swift also drew +from the _Turkish Tales_.[271] Smollett makes Lydia, the sentimental +country heroine of _Humphrey Clinker_, compare the “grandeur” of London +to the dazzling enchantments of oriental story.[271] Southey explicitly +states his indebtedness to the _New Arabian Nights_ for the idea of +_Thalaba_.[271] James Thomson (1834–1882), with equal frankness, +acknowledges his obligation to the _Arabian Nights_, in the case of _The +Doom of a City_.[271] Tennyson’s early poem, _Recollections of the +Arabian Nights_, is a good instance of the strong appeal made to +youthful imagination by the splendours of + + “the golden prime + Of good Haroun Alraschid.”[272] + +Wordsworth and Scott, as schoolboys, came eagerly under the spell. + + “The tales that charm away the wakeful night + In Araby” + +were to Wordsworth a precious treasure, setting free the child’s +imagination.[273] Part of the romantic charm of Venice in Wordsworth’s +eye, was that + + “Once did she hold the gorgeous East in fee.” + +Scott’s mature imagination also retained an interest in the Orient; +witness _The Talisman_, _The Surgeon’s Daughter_, _Count Robert of +Paris_, and possibly the arrow contest in _The Monastery_.[274] De +Quincey, in one of the most interesting passages in his +_Autobiography_,[275] after disparaging remarks concerning _Sindbad_ and +_Aladdin_, goes on to say that one solitary section of the latter story +“fixed and fascinated” his gaze: the incident of the murderous +magician,—who could gain the lamp only by the aid of a pure +child,—listening with ear to the ground in order to distinguish the +footsteps of his innocent young victim thousands of miles away. Dickens +in _David Copperfield_, Thackeray in _Vanity Fair_ and _The Virginians_, +and Stevenson in many passages, testify to a fondness for oriental +tales. Instances might be multiplied, but enough have been given to show +clearly that the oriental tales, from the early versions of the _Arabian +Nights_ on, have had a distinct value in stimulating the imagination of +numerous writers and countless readers.[276] In all these cases, the +vital and life-giving elements in this fiction have been the picturesque +and suggestive details about strange oriental customs; mysterious ideas +like metempsychosis; entertaining narrative; richness of invention,—in +short, the romantic qualities. These have constituted the chief charm of +oriental story from the time of Addison to the present day. + +It must always be remembered that the oriental tale met with disapproval +as well as with favour. The full significance of the genre is understood +only when we recognize it as a test of the public opinion of the age +concerning romanticism, and not merely as a witness to the romantic +mood. On the one hand, condemned by typical men of letters as “wild” and +“romantick,” it reveals the strength of Augustan classicism as the law +of the land; on the other, welcomed with enthusiasm, persisting in one +form or another throughout the century, utilized even by such defenders +of the classical stronghold as Dr. Johnson,[277] it testifies, by its +mere presence, to the new spirit of romanticism. + +But before the death of the last great classicist of the century new +forces were already at work, which were to bring the Orient much nearer +to England than ever before. The growth of the Indian empire, of +commercial intercourse with the East, and of the new democratic belief +in the brotherhood of the whole world, helped to break down England’s +insularity and to awaken a fresh interest in the Orient. In letters, +this modern spirit was first expressed by the increased number of +travelers’ accounts, and by the accompanying activity of orientalists +under the guidance of Sir William Jones. Direct translations from +oriental languages into English made a notable contribution to English +knowledge of Eastern life and literature, and had a large share in +turning the imaginations of nineteenth-century poets and story-tellers +toward the use of oriental material. A fresh chapter in the history of +oriental influence upon England thus opened. This chapter—still in the +making—has been distinguished throughout its entire course by actual +first-hand knowledge of the Orient,—one vital characteristic which +throws it into sharp contrast with the chapter discussed in the present +volume. But to consider even the beginnings of the modern period, in the +new scholarly movement inaugurated by Sir William Jones, would carry us +beyond the limits of our subject. By the time the new movement was well +under way, the oriental tale of the eighteenth century had done its work +and had passed on its inheritance to its successors. + + + + + APPENDIX A + NOTES + +Page 204, =Sterne=. The manuscript of Sterne’s _Bramine’s Journal_, now +in the British Museum (Add. Ms. 34,527), is exhibited with the following +note: “The _Bramine’s Journal_, being Sterne’s Journal addressed to Mrs. +Eliza Draper after her departure for India. It extends from 13 April +(1767) to 4 August with a postscript on 1 Nov. and is entirely in the +author’s hand. It is full of expressions of extreme devotion, and was +discontinued on the arrival of Mrs. Sterne. At the beginning is a note +(evidently prefixed with a view to publication) stating that the names +are fictitious and the whole translated from a French manuscript. The +page exhibited contains the record for 17 June: ‘I have brought your +name _Eliza_! and Picture into my Work [The Sentimental Journey, see the +page exhibited above, No. 23] where they will remain when you and I are +at rest forever.—Some annotator or explainer of my works in this place +will take occasion to speak of the Friendship which subsisted so long +and faithfully betwixt Yorick and the Lady he speaks of.’ See also the +letter of W. M. Thackeray exhibited in Case VII., No. 44, written after +reading the Ms. [Add. Ms. 34,527]. Bequeathed in 1894 by T. W. Gibbs, +Esq.” In Case VII. the letter exhibited reads as follows: “He wasn’t +dying, but lying, I’m afraid—God help him—a falser and wickeder man it’s +difficult to read of.... Of course any man is welcome to believe as he +likes for me _except_ a parson: I can’t help looking upon Swift and +Sterne as a couple of traitors and renegades—... with a scornful pity +for them in spite of their genius and greatness.” “Dated 12 Sept. [1851] +Holograph. [Add. Ms. 34,527, f. 75.] Bequeathed in 1894 by T. W. Gibbs, +Esq.” + +Page 251, note 1, =Byron=. On Byron’s indebtedness to the oriental tale, +cf. (_a_) _Die Belesenheit des jungen Byrons_ ... Dissertation ... von +Ludwig Fuhrmann, Berlin, 1903, pp. 60, 61, also 5, 6. + +(_b_) _Byron’s und Moore’s Orientalische Gedichte, Eine Parallele_ ... +Dissertation ... von O. Thiergen. Leipzig, 1880. + +(_c_) _Byron und Moore_ ... Dissertation ... von Edgar Dawson. Leipzig, +1902, p. 60. + +(_d_), (1), _Childe Harold_, Canto I., 22, note by editor. _Works of +Lord Byron_ ... edited by T. Moore, in 14 vols., Vol. VIII. London, +1832: “‘Vathek’ (says Lord Byron in one of his diaries) was one of the +tales I had a very early admiration of. For correctness of costume, +beauty of description, and power of imagination, it far surpasses all +European imitations; and bears such marks of originality, that those who +have visited the East will find some difficulty in believing it to be no +more than a translation. As an Eastern tale, even Rasselas must bow +before it: his ‘happy valley’ will not bear a comparison with the ‘Hall +of Eblis.’” + +(2) _The Siege of Corinth_, same edition, Vol. X., p. 131, Byron +acknowledges that an idea in certain lines was drawn from _Vathek_, and +then goes on to say, “[_Vathek_ is] a work to which I have before +referred; and never recur to, or read, without a renewal of +gratification.” + +(3) _The Giaour_, same edition, Vol. IX., p. 178, + + “To wander round lost Eblis throne; + And, fire unquenched, unquenchable, + Around, within thy heart shall dwell;” etc. + +(4) _Manfred_, Act II., Sc. 4, p. 112 and notes. _Poetry_, Vol. IV., of +_The Works of Lord Byron ..._ edited by E. H. Coleridge ... London ... +New York, 1901. Byron’s note at beginning of the scene, “The Hall of +Arimanes—Arimanes on his Throne, a Globe of Fire, surrounded by the +Spirits.” + +Page 252, note 4, =Swift=. (In strict compliance with our avowed +exclusion of Hebrew literature from our subject, the following note +would be omitted. But since the _Turkish Tales_ is little known to-day, +the student of Swift may find it convenient to have access to this +curious story here.) In the _Turkish Tales_, the story of the King of +Aad, a distorted legend[278] based on the conflict of the Children of +Israel with Og, King of Bashan and the Sons of Anak, reads as follows +[abridged from H. Weber: _Tales of the East_, Edinburgh, 1812, Vol. +III., p. 198]:— + +“Aoudge-Ibn-Anak, King of Aad, being informed that the prophet Mousa, at +the head of 600,000 Israelites, was coming to preach the Jewish religion +to him, sent an army.... The prophet was strangely surprised when he saw +the King of Aad’s troops ... whose children were above an hundred feet +high. His zeal then cooled a little; and before coming into action, ... +he sent twelve doctors to tell their prince that it was a great pity +such proper men should be ignorant of God. This compliment was not +difficult to remember; and yet the doctors forgot it when they came into +the presence of Aoudge, who was cutting his nails with a terrible large +axe. This monstrous king, seeing the prophet’s twelve doctors so +affrighted that they could not speak one word, began to laugh so loud +that the echo resounded for the space of fifty leagues around; he then +put them all into the hollow of his left hand, and turning them about +like ants with the little finger of his right hand, he said, ‘If these +wretched animals would but speak, we would give them to our children for +playthings.’ After this, he put them into his pocket and marched +[against] the Israelites. When he came [near], he pulled their twelve +doctors out of his pocket; but they were no sooner on the ground than +they fled with all possible speed, and never looked behind them. The +Jews, terrified with the enormous size of their enemies, abandoned their +prophet. Their wives attempted in vain to animate and embolden them; but +their timorous husbands forced them with them in their flight, saying, +‘Let us fly, and leave the affair to the prophet. The Lord hath no +occasion for anybody besides himself to work a miracle.’ Mousa ... then +marched singly against the people of Aad. The terrible Aoudge expected +him unconcerned ... and lanced a rock at him, which had crushed the +prophet if God had not sent an angel in the shape of a bird, which, with +one peck of his bill, cleft the rock in two.... Mousa then ... by a +prodigious effort of the Omnipotent Power became 70 cubits higher than +his natural stature; he then flew into the air for the space of 70 +cubits, and his rod was 70 cubits long, with which he touched Aoudge’s +knee, and that prince died suddenly. The people of Aad immediately fled, +and the Israelites returned to offer their service to the prophet; who +said to them, ‘Since you are so timorous, as not to have courage enough +to follow the generous counsel of your wives, God will make you wander +in the lands of Teyhyazousi, for the space of 40 years.’” + +Cf. in a _Voyage to Lilliput_, in _Gulliver’s Travels_, edited by G. R. +Dennis, London, 1899, Vol. VIII., p. 30, of _Prose Works_ of J. Swift, +edited by Temple Scott, the incident of Gulliver’s putting into his +pocket five Lilliputians, who had shot arrows at him. “As to the sixth, +I made countenance as if I would eat him alive. The poor man squalled +terribly ... but ... looking mildly ... I set him gently on the ground, +and away he ran. I treated the rest in the same manner, taking them one +by one out of my pocket....” The picture of Aoudge holding the doctors +in his hand and putting them into his pocket is quite in the manner of +Swift; the mockery of the doctors and the ironical description of the +courageous wives of the Jews, and of the miracle, is thoroughly Swiftian +in spirit. Yet the similarity may be chance coincidence. Cf. Dennis, +_op. cit._, _Introduction_, p. xxiii, on the sources of _Gulliver’s +Travels_. + +Page 252, note 4, =Smollett=. Cf. The Works of _Tobias Smollett ..._ +Edinburgh, 1883. On pp. 497, 498 of _The Expedition of Humphrey +Clinker_, Lydia Melford writes about London to her friend Miss Letitia +Willis at Gloucester: “All that you read of wealth and grandeur in the +Arabian Nights’ Entertainments and the Persian Tales, concerning Bagdad, +Diabekir, Damascus, Ispahan, and Samarkand, is here realized.... +Ranelagh looks like the enchanted palace of a genie, adorned with the +most exquisite performances of painting, carving, and gilding, +enlightened with a thousand golden lamps that emulate the noonday sun; +crowded with the great, the rich, the gay, the happy, and the fair; +glittering with cloth of gold and silver, lace, embroidery and precious +stones. While these exulting sons and daughters of felicity tread this +round of pleasure, or regale in different parties and separate lodges, +with fine imperial tea and other delicious refreshments, their ears are +entertained with the most ravishing delights of music, both instrumental +and vocal.... I really thought myself in paradise.” + +Page 252, n. 4, =Southey=. Cf. _Thalaba the Destroyer_. In the Preface +to the fourth edition, Cintra, 1800, quoted on p. 6 of Vol. IV., +_Poetical Works of R. Southey_, Boston, 1880, Southey writes: “In the +continuation of the Arabian Tales, the Domdaniel is mentioned,—a +seminary of evil magicians, under the roots of the sea. From this seed +the present romance has grown.” + +Page 252, n. 4, =James Thomson= (1634–1882). Cf. _Poetical Works of +James Thomson_, edited ... by B. Dobell in 2 vols., London, 1895, Vol. +II., p. 109, _The City of Dreadful Night_. Thomson says, p. 442, note 3, +“The city of the statues is from the tale of Zobeide in the History of +the Three Ladies of Bagdad and the Three Calendars. This episode and the +account of the Kingdoms of the Sea in Prince Beder and —— impressed my +boyhood more powerfully than anything else in the Arabian Nights.” + +Page 253, n. 1, =Wordsworth=. Cf. _The Prelude_, Book V. _The Poetical +Works of William Wordsworth_, edited ... by E. Dowden in 7 vols., l. 460 +_et seq._, Vol. VII., London, 1893. + + “A precious treasure had I long possessed, + A little yellow, canvas-covered book, + A slender abstract of the Arabian Tales; + And, from companions in a new abode, + When first I learnt, that this dear prize of mine + Was but a block hewn from a mighty quarry— + That there were four large volumes, laden all + With kindred matter, ’twas to me, in truth, + A promise scarcely earthly. Instantly, + With one not richer than myself, I made + A covenant that each should lay aside + The moneys he possessed, and hoard up more, + Till our joint savings had amassed enough + To make this book our own. Through several months + In spite of all temptation, we preserved + Religiously that vow; but firmness failed. + Nor were we ever masters of our wish. + + And when thereafter to my father’s house + The holidays returned me, there to find + That golden store of books which I had left, + What joy was mine! How often.... + For a whole day together, have I lain + Down by thy side, O Derwent! murmuring stream, + On the hot stones, and in the glaring sun, + And there have read, devouring as I read, + + · · · · · + + A gracious spirit o’er this earth presides, + And o’er the heart of man: invisibly + It comes, to works of unreproved delight, + And tendency benign, directing those + Who care not, know not, think not what they do. + The tales that charm away the wakeful night + In Araby, romances; legends penned + For solace by dim light of monkish lamps; + Fictions, for ladies of their love, devised + By youthful squires; adventures endless, + + · · · · · + + Dumb yearnings, hidden appetites, are ours, + And _they must_ have their food. Our childhood sits, + Our simple childhood, sits upon a throne + That hath more power than all the elements. + ... Ye dreamers, then + Forgers of daring tales! we bless you then. + Imposters, drivellers, dotards, as the ape + Philosophy will call you: _then_ we feel + With what, and how great might ye are in league, + Who make our wish, our power, our thought a deed, + An empire, a possession,—ye whom time + And seasons serve; all Faculties to whom + Earth crouches, the elements are potter’s clay, + Space like a heaven filled up with northern lights, + Here, nowhere, there, and everywhere at once.” + +Page 253, n. 1, =Scott=. Cf. _Autobiography_ in Lockhart’s _Life of +Scott_, in five vols., Vol. I., p. 29, Boston, 1902. + +“In the intervals of my school hours I had always perused with avidity +such books of history or poetry or voyages and travels as chance +presented to me—not forgetting the usual, or rather ten times the usual +quantity of fairy tales, eastern stories, romances, &c. These studies +were totally unregulated and undirected. My tutor thought it almost a +sin to open a profane book or poem.” Cf. also references such as that in +_Waverley_, Chap. V., to Prince Hussein’s tapestry, and “Malek’s flying +sentry box”; and in the Introduction to _Quentin Durward_ to the +“generous Aboulcasem.” + +Page 253, n. 1, =Dickens=. (1) _David Copperfield_, Chap. IV. “My father +had left a small collection of books.... From that blessed little room, +Roderick Random, Peregrine Pickle, Humphrey Clinker, Tom Jones, The +Vicar of Wakefield, Don Quixote, Gil Blas, and Robinson Crusoe, came +out, a glorious host, to keep me company. They kept alive my fancy, and +my hope of something beyond that place and time [his dreary +childhood],—they, and the Arabian Nights and the Tales of the Genii,—and +did me no harm.” + +(2) When a child, Dickens wrote a tragedy called _Misnar, the Sultan of +India_, founded on the _Tales of the Genii_. See _Life of Dickens_ by +John Forster, Vol. I., pp. 7, 29, 34; also Chauvin, _op. cit._, IV., p. +11. + +Page 253, n. 1, =Thackeray=. Cf. (1) _Vanity Fair_, Chap. V. “On a +sunshiny afternoon ... poor William Dobbin ... was lying under a tree in +the playground, spelling over a favorite copy of the _Arabian +Nights_—apart from the rest of the school—quite lonely and almost +happy.... Dobbin had for once forgotten the world and was away with +Sinbad the Sailor in the Valley of Diamonds or with Prince Ahmed and the +Fairy Peribanon in that delightful cavern where the prince found her, +and whither we should all like to make a tour.” Chap. III. “She [Becky] +had a vivid imagination; she had, besides, read the _Arabian Nights_ and +_Guthrie’s Geography_.” + +(2) _The Virginians_, Chap. XXIII. Hetty Lambert “brought out ‘The +Persian Tales’ from her mamma’s closet.” Chap. XXX. Harry Warrington +writes home of reading “in French the translation of an Arabian Work of +Tales, very diverting.” + +(3) _Roundabout Papers._ In the paper “On a Lazy, Idle Boy,” Thackeray +refers to “a score of white-bearded, white-robed warriors, or grave +seniors of the city, seated at the gate of Jaffa or Beyrout, and +listening to the story teller reciting his marvels out of _The Arabian +Nights_.” + +(4) _Eastern Sketches_ contains many references to the pleasure +Thackeray has always taken in the _Arabian Nights_, _e.g._ pp. 338, 339, +of _Works_, Vol. X. + + + + + APPENDIX B. I. + CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE + +_A list of the more important oriental tales published in English during +the period under consideration. The order of arrangement is determined +by the date of the earliest edition extant. The works of each author are +grouped under his name. Editions given immediately after the titles are +first editions unless otherwise stated. Editions starred are those +referred to in the text or notes._ + + _Abbreviations_: Sp. = _Spectator_; Gu. = _Guardian_; Fr. = + _Freeholder_; Ra. = _Rambler_; Adv. = _Adventurer_; Wo. = _World_; + Con. = _Connoisseur_; Ba. = _Babler_; Id. = _Idler_; Mir. = _Mirror_; + Obs. = _Observer_; tr. = _translated_. + + 1. 1687. =Marana, Giovanni Paolo.= _Letters writ by a Turkish Spy, who + liv’d five and forty years ... at Paris: giving an Account ... of + the most remarkable transactions of Europe ... from 1637 to 1682_ + [tr. from French, by W. Bradshaw, and edited by Robert Midgley, + M.D.], 8 vols., London, 1687–1693. Twenty-second edition, 1734; ... + edition, *1748; twenty-sixth edition, 1770. + + 2. 1700, =Brown, Thomas=. _Amusements Serious and Comical Calculated + for the Meridian of London_, separately published in 1700; and also + in the _Works of Thomas Brown, in three volumes, with a Character of + the author by James Drake, M.D._, *1707–1708. Cf. the four volumes + in the Boston Athenæum; (_a_) the title-page of the first volume + reads, _The Works of Thomas Brown, Serious, Moral, Comical and + Satyrical In Four Volumes, containing Amusements_ [then follows + table of contents of all four volumes]. _To which is prefixed a + Character of Mr. Brown and his Writings, by James Drake, M.D. The + Fourth edition, Corrected, with large Additions, and a Supplement_, + London. Printed for Samuel Briscoe, 1715; (_b_) the title-page of + the third volume reads, _The Third Volume of the Works of Mr. Tho. + Brown, Being Amusements, Serious and Comical, Calculated for the + Meridian of London. Letters Serious and Comical to Gentlemen and + Ladies. Æneas Sylvius’s Letters in English. A Walk around London and + Westminster, Exposing the Vices and Follies of the Town. The + Dispensary, a Farce. The London and Lacedemonian Oracles. The Third + Edition, with large Additions._ London, Printed for Sam. Briscoe, + and sold by J. Morphew near Stationers’ Hall,* 171-[date imperfect, + conjecture: 1711]. In the last-named volume, “_A Walk around London + and ... the Town_,” p. 244, is entitled also, _The Second Part of + the Amusements Serious and Comical_. + + 3. 1700. =[Avery, John]=? + + (_a_) _The Life and Adventures of Captain John Avery ... now in + possession of Madagascar written by a person who made his escape + from thence_, 1700. + + (_b_) _The King of the Pirates, being an account of the Famous + Enterprises of Captain Avery, the Mock King of Madagascar, with + His Rambles and Piracies, wherein all the Sham Accounts formerly + publish’d of him, are detected. In two Letters from Himself: one + during his Stay at Madagascar and one since his Escape from + thence_, London, 1720. [According to J. K. Langton in _Dict. + Nat. Biog._ article, “John Avery,” (_b_) has been attributed to + Defoe, and both (_a_) and (_b_) are “fiction, with scarcely a + substratum of fact”]. + + 4. Between 1704 and 1712. _Arabian Nights Entertainments: consisting + of One Thousand and One Stories, told by the Sultaness of the + Indies, to divert the Sultan from the Execution of a bloody vow ..., + containing a better account of the Customs, Manners, and Religion of + the Eastern Nations, viz.: Tartars, Persians and Indians, than is to + be met with [in] any Author hitherto published. Translated into + French from the Arabian MSS. by M. Galland, ... and now done into + English from the third Edition in French...._ The fourth Edition, + London, Printed for Andrew Bell, In 12 [vols. 1–6], *1713–1715. + First edition, date unknown; second edition, *1712; edition called + the fourteenth edition, London, *1778, 4 vols. [= “the oldest + edition which I have seen containing the latter half of Galland’s + version.” W. F. Kirby in App. II., p. 467, Vol. X., of Burton’s + _Arabian Nights_, Benares, 1884]. + + 5. 1705. =Defoe, Daniel.= + + (_a_) _The Consolidator: or Memoirs of Sundry Transactions from + the World in the Moon, Translated from the Lunar Language. By + the Author of the True-Born Englishman_, London, ... *1705. + + (_b_) _The Farther Adventures of Robinson Crusoe_, London, *1719. + + (_c_) _A System of Magic_, London, *1726. + + 6. 1707. _Arimant and Tamira; an eastern tale_ [in verse] _In the + manner of Dryden’s fables; By a gentleman of Cambridge_. London, + 1707. + + 7. 1708. _Turkish Tales; consisting of several Extraordinary + Adventures: with the History of the Sultaness of Persia and the + viziers. Written Originally in the Turkish Language by Chec Zade, + for the use of Amurath II., and now done into English._ London ... + Jacob Tonson, *1768. Cf. also No. 15 (_b_) below: 1714, _Persian and + Turkish Tales compleat_. + + 8. 1708. =Abu Jaafar Ebn Tophail.= _The Improvement of Human Reason, + exhibited in the Life of Hai Ebn Yokdhan; Written in Arabick above + 500 years ago, by Abu Jaafar Ebn Tophail.... Translated by Simon + Ockley_ ..., London ... *1708; another edition, 1711. The first + English version was published in 1674, anonymously, with the title + “_An Account of the Oriental Philosophy ... [etc.]_.” Cf. _Brit. + Mus. Catalogue_ under “Abu Jaafar Ebn Tophail,” and _Dict. Nat. + Biog._ under “Geo. Ashwell” (1612–1695). Cf. for full title of + Ockley’s translation, pp. 126, 127, _ante_. + + 9. (1710?). =Ali Mohammed Hadji= (_pseud._). _A brief and merry + History of Great Britain, containing an account of the religion, + customs ... etc. of the people, written originally in Arabick by Ali + Mohammed Hadji.... Faithfully rendered into English by A. Hillier_, + London (1710?). Another edition, *1730. + + 10. 1711. =Bidpai.= Principal eighteenth-century versions. (1) _Æsop + Naturalized, in a collection of fables and stories from Æsop ... + Pilpay and others ..._ London, *1711; another edition, 1771; (2) + _The Instructive and Entertaining Fables of Pilpay, an ancient + Indian Philosopher, containing a number of excellent rules for the + conduct of persons of all ages._ London, 1743. [This is a + reproduction of the 1679 version, “_Made for the Duke of + Gloucester_.”] Other editions, 1747, 1754; fifth edition, 1775; + sixth edition, 1789. Cf. Chauvin, _Bibliographie_, II., pp. 33, 40, + 70, and Table opposite p. 1. The earliest English version of Bidpai + is Sir Thomas North’s _Morall Philosophie of Doni ..._ 1570. + + 11. 1711. =Addison, Joseph.= + + [_Sp._ No. 50, April 27, 1711. _Observations by four Indian + Kings._] + + _Sp._ No. 94, June 18, 1711. (1) _Mahomet’s journey to the seven + heavens._ (2) _The adventures of the Sultan of Egypt._ + + _Sp._ No. 159, Sept. 1, 1711. _The Vision of Mirza._ + + _Sp._ No. 195, Oct. 13, 1711. _Story of sick king cured by + exercise with drugged mallet._ + + [_Sp._ No. 237, Dec. 1, 1711. _Jewish tradition concerning + Moses._] + + _Sp._ No. 289, Jan. 31, 1711–1712. _Story of the dervish who + mistakes a palace for an inn._ + + _Sp._ No. 293, Feb. 5, 1711–1712. _Persian fable of drop of water + which became a pearl._ + + _Sp._ No. 343, April 3, 1712. _Story of Pug the monkey._ + + _Sp._ No. 349, April 10, 1712. _Story of courageous Muli Moluc, + Emperor of Morocco._ + + _Sp._ No. 511, Oct. 16, 1712. (1) _Persian marriage-auction._ (2) + _Merchant who purchased old woman in a sack._ + + _Sp._ No. 512, Oct. 17, 1712. _Story of Sultan Mahmoud and his + vizier._ + + _Sp._ No. 535, Nov. 13, 1712. _Story of Alnaschar._ + + _Gu._ No. 99, July 4, 1713. _Persian story of just sultan._ + + _Gu._ No. 167, Sept. 22, 1713. _Story of Helim and Abdallah._ + + _Sp._ No. 557, June 21, 1714. _Letter to the King of Bantam._ + + _Sp._ Nos. 584 and 585, Aug. 23 and 25, 1714. _Story of Hilpa, + Harpath, and Shalum._ + + _Fr._ No. 17, Feb. 17, 1716. _Persian Emperor’s riddle._ + + 12. 1712. =Unknown Contributors to Guardian and Spectator.= + + _Gu._ No. 162, Sept. 16, 1712. _Story of Schacabac and the + Barmecide._ + + _Sp._ No. 578, Aug. 9, 1714. _Story of Fadlallah and Zemroude._ + + _Sp._ No. 587, Aug. 30, 1714. _Story of Mahomet, Gabriel, and the + black drop of sin._ + + _Sp._ No. 604, Oct. 8, 1714. _Vision at Grand Cairo._ + + _Sp._ No. 631, Dec. 10, 1714. _Story of the dervise who forgot to + wash his hands._ + + 13. 1713. =Pope, Alexander.= + + _Gu._ No. 61, May 21, 1713. _Fable of the traveller and the + adder._ + + 14. 1712. =Steele, Sir Richard.= + + _Sp._ No. 545, Nov. 25, 1712. _Letter from the Emperor of China to + the Pope._ + + _Gu._ No. 148, Aug. 31, 1713. _Story of the Santon Barsisa._ + + 15. 1714. _Persian Tales._ + + (_a_) _The Thousand and One Days, Persian Tales. Translated from + the French by Mr. Ambrose Philips._ London, *1714–1715. [Cf. + Chauvin, _Bibliographie_, IV., pp. 123–127.] Third edition, + 1722; fifth, 1738; sixth, 1750; *seventh, 1765; other editions, + 1781, 1783. + + (_b_) _The Persian and the Turkish Tales compleat_ [sic] + _Translated formerly from those languages into French_ [or + rather compiled] _by M. Pétis de la Croix ..._ [assisted by A. + R. Le Sage] _and now into Englsh_ [sic] _from that translation + by ... Dr. King, and several other hands. To which are added; + Two letters from a French Abbot to his friend at Paris, giving + an account of the island of Madagascar; and of the French + Embassador’s reception by the King of Siam._ London, *1714. + + (_c_) Cf. Edward Button, _A New Translation of the Persian Tales_, + London, 1754; and the anonymous _Persian Tales designed for use + and entertainment_, *Coburg, 1779–1781. + + 16. 1717. =Kora Selyn Oglan= (_pseud._). _The Conduct of Christians + made the sport of Infidels in a letter from a Turkish merchant at + Amsterdam to the Grand Mufti at Constantinople on occasion of ... + the late scandalous quarrel among the clergy_, *1717. + + 17. 1720. =Brémond, G. De.= _The Beautiful Turk, Translated from the + French original, Printed in the Year 1720._ [London.] This is + another translation of the French tale by G. de Brémond translated + “by B. B.” as _Hattige or the amours of the King of Tamaran_, + published in Amsterdam, 1680; and also in Vol. I., *1679 or 1683(?) + in R. Bentley’s _Modern Novels_. + + 18. 1722. (Dec. 11, 1721.) =Parnell, Thomas.= _The Hermit_, printed + posthumously in _Poems on Several Occasions.—Written by Dr. Thomas + Parnell, late Arch-Deacon of Clogher: and published by Mr. Pope._ + London, *1722 (Dec. 11, 1721). For numerous volumes containing this + poem, see _Brit. Mus. Catalogue_. + + 19. 1722. =Aubin, Mrs. Penelope.= _The Noble Slaves, or the Lives and + Adventures of Two Lords and Two Ladies_ (in Aubin’s _Histories and + Novels_), London, *1722. Another edition, Dublin, (1730); also in + Mrs. E. Griffith’s collection, 1777. + + 20. 1722. =Mailly= [or =Mailli=], =Chevalier de=. _The Travels and + Adventures of three princes of Sarendip. Intermixed with eight + delightful and entertaining novels, translated from the Persian_ [or + rather the Italian of Chr. Armeno] _into French, an_ [sic] _from + thence done into English_. London, *1722. + + 21. 1725. =Segrais, J. Regnauld de.= _Bajazet or The Imprudent + Favorite_, in _Five Novels Translated from the French_. London, + *1725. + + 22. 1725. =Gueullette, Thomas Simon.= + + (_a_) _Chinese Tales, or the wonderful Adventures of the Mandarin + Fum-Hoam translated from the French_ [of T. S. Gueullette]. + London, 1725. Another translation, _Chinese Tales ... + Fum-Hoam ... translated by the Rev. Mr. Stackhouse_, London, + n.d. (Cook’s pocket edition of select novels). Another edition, + *1781. + + (_b_) _Mogul Tales ... Now first translated into English ... With + a prefatory discourse on the usefulness of Romances._ London, + *1736. Second edition, 1743. + + (_c_) _Tartarian Tales, or a thousand and one Quarters of Hours, + Written in French by the celebrated Mr. Guelletee_ [sic] _Author + of the Chinese, Mogul and other Tales. The whole now for the + first time translated into English by Thomas Flloyd._ London, + printed for J. and R. Tonson in the Strand, *1759. Another + edition, Dublin, printed for Wm. Williamson, Bookseller, at + Mæcenas’s Head, Bride St., 1764; another edition, London, 1785; + printed in the _Novelist’s Magazine_, 1785. + + (_d_) _Peruvian Tales related in one thousand and one hours, by + one of the select virgins of Cuzco to the Ynca of Peru ... + Translated from the original French by S. Humphreys (continued + by J. Kelly)._ Fourth edition. London, 1764. Another edition, + 1786. + + 23. 1729. =Bignon, Jean Paul.= _Adventures of Abdalla, Son of Hanif, + sent by the Sultan of the Indies to make a Discovery of the island + of Borico ... translated into French from an Arabick manuscript ... + by Mr. de Sandisson_ [_pseud._] _... done into English by William + Hatchett...._ London, *1729. Second edition, *1730. + + 24. 1730. =Montesquieu, C. de Secondat, Baron de.= _Persian Letters + Translated by Mr. Ozell._ London, *1730. Third edition, 1731; sixth + edition, anon., Edinburgh, *1773. + + 25. 1730. =Gomez, Mme. Madeleine Angelique (Poisson) de.= _Persian + Anecdotes; or, Secret memoirs of the Court of Persia. Written + originally in French, for the Entertainment of the King, by the + celebrated Madame de Gomez, Author of La Belle Assemblée. Translated + by Paul Chamberlain, Gent._ London *1730. The title in the _British + Museum Catalogue_ reads, “_The Persian Anecdotes ... Persia, + containing the history of those two illustrious heroes, + Sophy-Ismael, surnamed the Great, and Tor, King of Ormus, etc._ + [Translated from the French by P. Chamberlen.] London, 1730.” + + 26. 1731. [=Boles, W.?=] _Milk for Babes, Meat for Strong Men and Wine + for Petitioners, Being a Comical, Sarcastical, Theological Account + of a late Election at Bagdad, for Cailiff of that City. Faithfully + Translated from the Arabick, and Collated with the most Authentic + Original Manuscripts. By the Great, Learned and Most Ingenious + Alexander the Copper Smith...._ Second edition, Cork, *1731. + + 27. 1733. [=D’Orville, Adrien de la Vieuville.=] _The Adventures of + Prince Jakaya or the Triumph of Love over Ambition, being Secret + Memoirs of the Ottoman Court. Translated from the Original + French...._ London, *1733. + + 28. 1735. =Lyttelton, George=, First Baron (1709–1773). _Letters from + a Persian in England to his friend at Ispahan._ London, *1735. Fifth + edition, 1774; printed also in Harrison’s _British Classicks_, + London, *1787–1793. Vol. I.; and in numerous editions of Lyttelton’s + _Works_. See _Brit. Mus. Catalogue_. + + 29. 1735. =Crébillon, C. P. Jolyot de.= + + (_a_) _The Skimmer, or the history of Tanzai and Neardarné (a + Japanese tale), tr. from the French._—1735. Another edition, + 1778. + + (_b_) _The Sopha, a moral tale, tr. from the French_ (a new + edition).... London, 1781. + + 30. 1736. _The Persian Letters, continued._ Third edition, London, + *1736 [“erroneously ascribed to Lord Lyttelton,” _Dict. Nat. + Biog._]. + + 31. 1739. =Boyer (Jean Baptiste de) Marquis d’Argens.= _Chinese + Letters; being a philosophical, historical, and critical + correspondence between a Chinese Traveler at Paris and his + countrymen in China, Muscovy, Persia, and Japan. Translated ... + into_ [or rather written in] _French by the Marquis d’Argens; and + now done into English...._ London, *1741. + + 32. (17-?). =Bougeant, G. H.= _The Wonderful Travels of Prince + Fan-Feredin, Translated from the French_ [of G. H. Bougeant, *1735], + Northampton, n.d. For full title, cf. p. 213, _ante_. + + 33. 1741. =Haywood, Mrs. Eliza.= _The Unfortunate Princess, or the + Ambitious Statesman, containing the Life and surprizing_ [sic] + _Adventures of the Princess of Ijaveo [Ijaves], Interspers’d with + several curious and entertaining Novels_. London, *1741. + + 34. 1742. =Collins, William.= _Persian Eclogues, Written originally + for the entertainment of the Ladies of Tauris and now translated_, + *1742; reprinted *1757 as _Oriental Eclogues_. + + 35. 1744. _The Lady’s Drawing Room ... interspersed with entertaining + and affecting Novels._ London, *1744 [contains _The History of + Rodomond and the Beautiful Indian_, and _The History of Henrietta de + Bellgrave_]. + + 36. 1745. =Caylus, A. C. P. de Tubières, Comte de.= _Oriental Tales, + collected from an Arabian Manuscript in the Library of the King of + France...._ London, *1745. Another edition (1750?). + + 37. 1745. =Vieux-maisons, Mme. de= _or_ =Pecquet, A. (?)=. _The + Perseis, or secret memoirs for a History of Persia_ [a political + satire], _translated from the French with a key...._ London, *1745. + Another edition, 1765. + + 38. 1748. =Graffigny, F. Huguet de.= _Letters written by a Peruvian + Princess, translated from the French_ [of F. Huguet de Graffigny]. + London, 1748. Another edition, Dublin, *1748. Another translation, + _The Peruvian Letters, translated from the French, with an + additional original volume by R. Roberts_. London, 1774. + + 39. 1749. =Voltaire, F. M. Arouet de.= + + 1749. (_a_) _Zadig, or the Book of Fate, an Oriental History, + translated from the French original of M. Voltaire_, London, + printed for John Brindley, etc., *1749. A version by F. Ashmore, + London, 1780; another edition, 1794. Also in (1) _The Works of + M. de Voltaire Translated from the French with Notes, Historical + and Critical. By T. Smollett, M.D., T. Francklin, M.A., and + others_, Vols. I.–XXV., London ... 1761–1765; Vol. XI., ... + London ... 1762; in (2) _The Works of M. de Voltaire. Translated + from the French with Notes, Historical, critical and + Explanatory. By T. Francklin, D.D., Chaplain to his Majesty, and + late Greek Professor in the University of Cambridge, T. + Smollett, M.D., and others._ A new edition, 38 vols., + 1778–1761–1781, Vol. XI. ... London ... 1779; and in (3) + _Romances, Tales and Smaller Pieces of M. de Voltaire_, Vol. + I., ... London.... 1794. + + 1754. (_b_) _Babouc or the World as it goes. By ... Voltaire. To + which are added letters, etc._ London, *1754. Also in (1) + _Works_, Vol. XI., 1762; in (2) _Works_ (new edition), Vol. XI., + 1779; and in (3) _Romances_, 1794, all cited above under + _Zadig_. + + 1762. (_c_) _A Letter from a Turk concerning the Faquirs, and his + Friend Bababec_, in (1) _Works_, Vol. XIII., 1762 (?); in (2) + _Works_, new edition, Vol. XIII., 1779; and in (3) _Romances_, + 1794, all cited above under _Zadig_. + + 1762. (_d_) _History of the Travels of Scarmentado. Written by + himself_, in (1) _Works_, Vol. XII., *1762 (?); in (2) _Works_, + new edition, Vol. XII., 1779; and in (3) _Romances_, 1794, all + cited above under _Zadig_. + + 1762. (_e_) _Memnon; or Human Wisdom._ [_Memnon the Philosopher_] + in (1) _Works_, Vol. XIII., *1762 (?); in (2) _Works_, new + edition, Vol. XIII., 1779; and in (3) _Romances_, 1794, all + cited above under _Zadig_. + + 1763. (_f_) _History of a Good Bramin_ in (1) _Works_, Vol. XXVI., + *1763; and in (2) _Works_, new edition, Vol. XIX., 1780, both + cited above under _Zadig_. Also printed separately as follows: + _The History of a Good Bramin to which is annexed an essay on + the reciprocal contempt of nations proceeding from their + vanity._ London, 1795 [no author or translator given]. + + 1765. (_g_) _The Black and the White_, in (1) _Works_, Vol. XXV., + *1765; and in (3) _Romances_, 1794, both cited above under + _Zadig_. + + 1769. (_h_) _The Princess of Babylon._ London, *1769. Also in (1) + _Works ..._ Vol. XXV., 1770; and in (3) _Romances_, 1794, both + cited above under _Zadig_. + + 1774. (_i_) _The White Bull_ [tr. by J. Bentham], *1774. Also in + (3) _Romances_, 1794, cited above under _Zadig_. + + 1774. (_j_) _The Hermit, an Oriental Tale. Newly translated from + the French of M. de Voltaire_ [being a chapter of _Zadig_], + 1774. + + [_N.B._—Apparently Voltaire’s oriental sketches: _André des Touches at + Siam_, _A Conversation with a Chinese_, and _An Adventure in India_, + as well as the _Letters of Amabed_, were not translated into English + in the eighteenth century.] + + 40. 1750. =Johnson, Samuel.= + + _Ra._ No. 38, July 28, 1750. _Hamet and Raschid._ + + _Ra._ No. 65, Oct. 1750. _Obidah, the son of Abensima, and the + Hermit._ + + _Ra._ No. 120, May 11, 1751. _Nouradin the Merchant and his son + Almamoulin._ + + _Ra._ No. 190, Jan. 11, 1752. _Morad the son of Hanuth and his son + Abonzaid._ + + _Ra._ Nos. 204, 205, Feb. 29, March 3, 1752. _Seged, Lord of + Ethiopia._ + + 1759. _The Prince of Abissinia_ [sic], _a Tale_ [= _Rasselas_]. + London, 1759. Second edition, 1759; another edition, Dublin, + 1759; ... ninth edition, 1793. + + _Id._ No. 75, Sept. 22, 1759. _Gelalledin._ + + _Id._ No. 99, March 8, 1760. _Ortogrul of Basra._ + + _Id._ No. 101, March 22, 1760. _Omar, Son of Hassan._ + + 41. 1750? _The History of Abdallah and Zoraide, or Filial and Paternal + Love.... To which is added The Maiden Tower or a Description of an + Eastern Cave, Together with Contentment, a Fable._ London *(1750?). + + 42. 1752. =Hawkesworth, John.= + + _Adv._ No. 5, Nov. 21, 1752. _The Transmigrations of a Soul._ + + _Adv._ Nos. 20, 21, 22, Jan. 13, 16, 20, 1753. _The Ring of + Amurath._ + + _Adv._ No. 32, Feb. 24, 1753. _Omar the Hermit and Hassan._ + + _Adv._ No. 72, July 14, 1753. _The Story of Amana and Nouraddin._ + + _Adv._ No. 76, July 28, 1753. _The Story of Bozaldab._ + + _Adv._ No. 91, Sept. 18, 1753. _Yamodin and Tamira._ + + _Adv._ No. 114, Dec. 8, 1753. _Almet the Dervise._ + + _Adv._ No. 132, Feb. 9, 1754. _Carazan._ + + 1761. _Almoran and Hamet: an Oriental Tale._ London, 1761, 2 vols. + Second edition, London, 1761; another edition, 1780; another, + London (1794?). + + 43. 1753. =Moore, E.= + + _Wo._ No. 40, Oct. 4, 1753. _Prince Ruzvanchad and the princess + Cheheristany, The Infelicities of Marriage._ + + 44. 1754. =Cambridge, Richard Owen.= + + (_a_) _Wo._ No. 72, May 16, 1754. _Princess Parizade._ + + (_b_) _The Fakeer, a Tale_ [in verse], —— 1756. + + 45. 1754. =Colman and Thornton.= + + _Con._ No. 21, June 20, 1754. _Story of Tquassaouw and + Knonmquaiha._ + + 46. 1754. =Le Camus, A.= _Abdeker, or the art of preserving beauty. + Translated from an Arabic manuscript_ [or rather from the French of + A. Le Camus]. London, *1754. Another edition, Dublin, 1756. + + 47. 1754. =Murphy, Arthur, Esq.= _Works of A. Murphy_ in 7 volumes. + London, 1786. Vol. VI. contains the _Gray’s Inn Journal_, in No. 64 + of which, Jan. 5, 1754, is a tale (entitled, _Aboulcasem of + Bagdad_), said to be by “my friend Capt. Gulliver.” + + 48. 1755. =Transmarine, Mr.= [_pseud._]. _The Life and surprizing_ + [sic] _Adventures of Friga Reveep ... Written in French by himself + and translated into English by Mr. Transmarine_, *1755. For full + title, cf. pp. 48, 49, _ante_. + + 49. 1757. =Walpole, Horace.= + + (_a_) _A Letter from Xo-Ho, a Chinese Philosopher at London to his + friend Lien Chi at Peking_, *1757. + + (_b_) _Hieroglyphic Tales._ Strawberry Hill, *1785. + + 50. 1760. =Goldsmith, Oliver.= + + (_a_) _The Citizen of the World_, first printed in form of + bi-weekly letters in Newbery’s _Public Ledger_ beginning Jan. + 24, 1760. First edition, London, *1762. 2 vols. Other editions, + 1769, 1774, 1796. + + (1765). (_b_) _Asem, an Eastern Tale: or a vindication of the + wisdom of Providence in the moral government of the world_ + *(1765 or 1759?). Cf. footnote to p. 125, _ante_. + + 51. 1760. =Hamilton, Antoine, Count.= + + 1760. (_a_) _The History of the Thorn-Flower_ [= _May-Flower_], in + (1) _Select Tales of Count Hamilton, Author of the Life and + Memoirs of the Count de Grammont, Translated from the French_. + In two volumes. Vol. I., London ... 1760; and (2) _History of + May-Flower, A Circassian Tale_, second edition ... Salisbury ... + London, 1796. + + (_b_) _The Ram_, in (1) 1760, cited above under _The History of + the Thorn-Flower_. + + (_c_) _The History of the Four Facardins_, in Vol. II. of (1), + 1760, cited above under _The History of the Thorn-Flower_. + + 52. 1762. =Langhorne, John.= _Solyman and Almena._ Probably *1762. + Second edition, London, 1764; also edition in 1781; and one in East + Windsor, Connecticut, 1799. + + 53. 1764. =Ridley, James=, Rev., Chaplain to the East India Company + [_Morell, Sir C._ = _pseud._]. _Tales of the Genii; or ... + Delightful Lessons of Horam, the Son of Asmar ... tr. from the + Persian Manuscript by Sir C. Morell_, 1764. 2 vols. Also editions + 1780, *1785, *1794. + + 54. 1764. =Marmontel, J. F.= + + 1764. (_a_) _Soliman II._ in (1) _Moral Tales by M. Marmontel_, + *1764–1766 (?). Vol. I.... London ... *1764; in (2) _Moral + Tales, by M. Marmontel. In three Volumes._ Vol. I., Edinburgh, + 1768; in (3) _Moral Tales, by M. Marmontel Translated from the + French, by C. Dennis and R. Lloyd. In three Volumes._ Vol. I., + London ... 1781; in (4) another edition of (3) Vol. I., + Manchester ... [1790 (?)]; in (5) _Moral Tales by M. Marmontel. + Translated from the French. In two Volumes._ Vol. I. Cooke’s + edition ... London ... (1795); and in (6) _Moral Tales by M. + Marmontel._ Vol. I. A new edition ... London ... 1800. + + 1766 (?). (_b_) _Friendship put to the Test_ in (1) Vol. III. + *(1766?) of (1) cited above under _Soliman II._; in (2) Vol. + III. (1768) of (2) cited above under _Soliman II._; in (3) Vol. + III., 1781, of (3) cited above under _Soliman II._; in (4) = + (4), (1790?), cited above under _Soliman II._; in (5) = (5), + (1795), cited above under _Soliman II._; in (6) _Marmontel’s + Tales, Selected and abridged for the Instruction and Amusement + of Youth, by Mrs. Pilkington ..._ London ... 1799; and in (7) = + (6), 1800, cited above under _Soliman II._ + + 1799. (_c_) _The Watermen of Besons_, in (6) cited above under + _Friendship put to the Test_. + + 55. 1767. [=Kelly, Hugh.=] + + _Ba._ June 18, [1767]. _Orasmin and Elmira, an Oriental Tale._ + Also printed in Harrison’s _British Classicks_, Vol. VI., + London, *1794. + + 56. 1767. =Sterne, Laurence.= _The Bramine’s Journal._ Written 1767, + unpublished Ms. in the Additional Ms. 34,527, in British Museum. + + 57. 1767. [=Sheridan, Mrs. Frances (Chamberlaine).=] _The History of + Nourjahad. By the editor of Sidney Biddulph_; Dublin, *1767. Other + editions, London, 1788, and 1792. + + 58. 1769. =Smollett, Tobias G.= + + 1769. (_a_) _The History and Adventures of an Atom by Nathaniel + Peacock_ [_i.e._ T. Smollett]. London, 2 vols., *1749 [1769]. + Tenth edition, London, 2 vols., 1778; Edinburgh, 1784; London, + 1786. + + 1773. (_b_) _The Orientalist: A Volume of Tales after the Eastern + Taste. By the Author of Roderick Random, Sir Lancelot Greaves, + &c., and others...._ Dublin, *1773. + + 59. 1769. =Musgrave, Sir W.= _The Female Captive_ [_i.e._ Mrs. Crisp] + _a narrative of Facts which happened in Barbary in 1756 written by + herself_. London, *1769, 2 vols. + + 60. 1769. =D’Alenzon Mons.= _The Bonze or Chinese Anchorite, an + Oriental Epic Novel Translated from the Mandarine Language of + Hoamchi-vam, a Tartarian Proselite, by Mons. D’Alenzon...._ London, + *1769, 2 vols. [also 1770?]. Cf., for full title, p. 126, n. 1, + _ante_. + + 61. 1770. =Chatterton, Thomas.= + + (_a_) _Narva and Mored, an African Eclogue_, first printed in + _London Magazine_, May, *1770; and reprinted in the + _Miscellanies_, *1778. + + (_b_) _The Death of Nicou, an African Eclogue_, first printed in + _London Magazine_, June, *1770; and reprinted in the + _Miscellanies_, *1778. + + (_c_) _Heccar and Gaira, an African Eclogue_, printed in the + _Supplement to the Miscellanies_, *1784; (written Jan. 1770). + + 62. 1774. =Vaucluse, Mad^e Fauques= [or =Falques=] =de=. _The Vizirs, + or the Enchanted Labyrinth, an Oriental Tale._ London, *1774, 3 + vols. + + 63. 1774. =Johnstone, Charles.= + + (_a_) _The History of Arsaces, Prince of Betlis, by the editor of + Chrysal._ London, *1774. + + (_b_) _The Pilgrim, or a Picture of Life, in a series of letters + written mostly from London by a Chinese philosopher to his + friend at Quang-Tong, containing remarks upon the Laws, Customs + and Manners of the English and other Nations...._ London + *[1775], 2 vols. Other editions, London, 1775; Dublin, 1775. + + 64. 1776. =Irwin, Eyles.= + + (_a_) _Bedukah, or the Self-Devoted. An Indian Pastoral. By the + Author of Saint Thomas’s Mount...._ London ... *1776. + + (_b_) _Eastern Eclogues; Written during a Tour through Arabia, + Egypt, and other parts of Asia and Africa, In the Year + 1777, ..._ London, ... *1780. [Contents: _Eclogue_ I. _Alexis: + or The Traveller._ Scene: The Ruins of Alexandria. Time: + Morning.... _Eclogue_ II. _Selima, or the Fair Greek._ Scene: A + Seraglio in Arabia Felix. Time: Noon.... _Eclogue_ III. _Ramah; + or the Bramin._ Scene: The Pagoda of Conjeveram. Time: + Evening.... _Eclogue_ IV. _The Escape, or, the Captives._ Scene: + The Suburbs of Tunis. Time: Night....] + + 65. 1779. =Richardson, Mr.= “Professor of Humanity at Glasgow.” + + _Mir._ No. 8, Feb. 20, 1779. _The Story of the Dervise’s Mirror._ + + 66. (178-?) =Moir, The Rev. J.= _Gleanings, or Fugitive Pieces_, + London *(178-?), [contains _Hassan_]. + + 67. 1782. =Scott, John= (d. 1783). _Oriental Eclogues_ in volume + entitled _The Poetical Works of John Scott_, London, *1782. [The + _Arabian Eclogue_ in this collection was written by 1777.] + + 68. 1782. =Scott, Helenus, M.D.= _The Adventures of a Rupee wherein + are interspersed ... anecdotes Asiatic and European._ London, *1782. + + 69. 1783. =Chilcot, Harriet= (afterward =Mezière=). _Ormar and Zabria; + or the Parting Lovers, an Oriental Eclogue_, in volume entitled + _Elmar and Ethlinda, a Legendary Tale and Adalba and Ahmora, an + Indian_ [= Peruvian] _Tale: with other pieces ..._ London ... 1783. + + 70. 1785. =Reeve, Clara.= _The Progress of Romance, through Times, + Countries and Manners, with Remarks on the good and bad effects of + it, on them respectively, in a course of evening conversations. By + C. R., author of the English Baron, The Two Mentors, etc...._ + Dublin, *1785 [contains _The History of Charoba_, extracted from the + _History of Ancient Egypt, Translated by J. Davies_, *1672, _from + the French of Monsieur Vattier, written originally in the Arabian + tongue by Murtadi_. [Cf. Part II. of this Bibliography, No. 48.] + Clara Reeve modernized the language of Davies’s translation + somewhat]. + + 71. (1785?) =Confucius the Sage= (_pseud._). _The Oriental Chronicles + of the times; being the translation of a Chinese manuscript supposed + to have been written by Confucius the Sage_, London *(1785?). + + 72. (1785?) =Cumberland, Richard.= + + _Obs._ No. 14 (1785?), _Abderama_. + + 73. 1786. =Beckford, William.= + + (_a_) _History of the Caliph Vathek._ English, *1786; French, + *1787. + + (1) The title-page of the first English edition reads: _An + Arabian tale from an unpublished ms., with notes critical + and explanatory_, London, 1786. On p. v, another title is + given: _The History of the Caliph Vathek, with notes_. The + notes were by the translator, Samuel Henley, D.D. + + (2) The book had been written between Jan. 1782 and Jan. 1783, + in French by Beckford, and was published in French by him in + 1787, one edition at Lausanne, another at Paris. [Cf. Part + II. of this Bibliography, No. 5, (1), Garnett’s edition.] + + (_b_) _The Story of Al Raoui—a tale from the Arabick._ London, + *1799. Given in _Memoirs of Wm. Beckford_ by C. Redding. London, + *1859. Vol. I., p. 217. + + 74. 1786. _The Baloon, or Aerostatic Spy. A Novel containing a series + of adventures of an aerial traveller_ [contains the _Eastern Tale of + Hamet and Selinda_]. London, *1786. 2 vols. + + 75. 1787. =Bage, Robert.= _The Fair Syrian (a novel)_, *1787. See _La + Belle Syrienne, Roman en trois parties; par l’auteur du Mont-Henneth + et des Dunes de Barrham. Traduit de l’Anglois ..._ *1788. + + 76. 1788. _The Disinterested Nabob, a novel interspersed with genuine + descriptions of India, its manners and customs._ London, *1788. 3 + vols. [Second edition.] + + 77. 1789. =Berquin, Arnaud.= _The Blossoms of Morality,—by the Editor + of the Looking-Glass for the Mind._ London, *1789. Also, 1796. + + 78. (1790?) =Cooper, J.= _The Oriental Moralist or the Beauties of the + Arabian Nights Entertainments. Translated from the original_ [_i.e._ + from Galland’s French version] _and accompanied with suitable + reflections adapted to each story by the Rev. Mr. Cooper, author of + the History of England, etc._, London *(1790?). Cf. also _The + Beauties of the Arabian Nights Entertainments consisting of the most + entertaining Stories_, London, 1792. + + 79. 1790. =Knight, Ellis Cornelia.= _Dinarbas, a Tale: being a + continuation of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia_ [_sic_], London, + *1790. Third edition, London, 1793; fourth edition, London, *1800. + Also printed in same volume with S. Johnson’s _Rasselas ..._ + Greenfield, Mass., 1795. + + 80. 1790. =Caraccioli, Louis Antoine de.= _Letters on the Manners of + the French ... written by an Indian at Paris. Translated from the + French by Chas. Shillito._ Colchester, *1790. + + 81. 1792. [_New Arabian Nights._] _Arabian Tales, or a continuation of + the Arabian Nights Entertainments ... newly tr. from the original + Arabic into French by Dom Chavis ... and M. Cazotte ... and tr. from + the French into English by Robert Heron_, Edinburgh and London, + *1792. 4 vols. Another edition, London, 1794, 3 vols. + + 82. (1795?) _The Arabian Pirate, or authentic history and fighting + adventures of Tulagee Angria_ [a chapbook], Newcastle. + + 83. (1795?) _The Trial and Execution of the Grand Mufti, from an + ancient Horsleian manuscript, found in the Cathedral of + Rochester ..._ London *(1795?). + + 84. 1796. _The Siamese Tales, Being a Collection of Stories told to + the son of the Mandarin Sam-Sib, for the Purpose of Engaging his + mind in the Love of Truth and Virtue, with an historical account of + the Kingdom of Siam. To which is added the Principal Maxims of the + Talapoins. Translated from the Siamese_, London, 1796. Another + edition, Baltimore ... 1797. + + 85. 1796. [=Mathias, T. J.=] _The Imperial Epistle from Kien Long, + Emperor of China to George III., King of Great Britain in the year + 1794. Translated into English from the original Chinese ..._ + [pseudo-oriental satire in verse,] London, *1796. Other editions, + 1798, 1802; and Philadelphia, 1800. + + 86. 1796. =Klinger, F. M. von.= _The Caliph of Bagdad, Travels before + the Flood, an Interesting Oriental record of men and manners in the + antediluvian world, interpreted in fourteen evening conversations + between the Caliph of Bagdad and his court, tr. from Arabic_ [= + translated from the German of F. M. von Klinger], London, *1796. Cf. + also No. 93 below, Lewis: _Amorassan_. + + 87. 1797. =Addison, Mr.= _Interesting Anecdotes, Memoirs, Allegories, + essays and poetical fragments, tending to amuse the fancy and + inculcate morality_, London, *1797. 16 vols. + + 88. 1799. =Du Bois, Edward.= _The Fairy of Misfortune; or the Loves of + Octar and Zulima, an Eastern Tale Translated from the French by the + Author of a Piece of Family Biography. The Original of the above + Work is supposed to be in the Sanskrit in the Library of the Great + Mogul._ London, *1799. + + 89. 1800. =Pilkington, Mrs. [Mary P.].= + + (_a_) _The Asiatic Princess, a tale._ London, *1800. 2 vols. + + (_b_) _A Mirror of the Female Sex. Historical Beauties for Young + Ladies, intended to lead the female mind to the Love and + Practice of Moral Goodness, Designed Principally for the use of + Ladies Schools_: London, *1804. [Third Edition] contains _The + Governor’s wife of Minchew_; _The Princess of Jaskes_; _The + Empress of China_; _Amestris_, _Queen of Persia_; _Inkle_ and + _Yarico_ [West-Indian, not oriental, taken from Addison, _Sp._ + No. 11, March 13, 1710–1711]. + + 90. (1800?) =Day, Thomas.= _Moral Tales by Esteemed Writers_ [contains + _The Grateful Turk_], London *(1800?). + + 91. 1802. =Crookenden, Isaac.= _Romantic Tale. The Revengeful Turk or + Mystic Cavern._ London, *1802. + + 92. 1804. =Edgeworth, Maria.= _Popular Tales_ [contains _Murad the + Unlucky_]——, 1804; second edition, London, 1805. + + 93. 1808. =Lewis, Matthew Gregory.= _Romantic Tales._ London, *1808, 4 + vols. Contains _The Anaconda, an East Indian Tale_, in Vol. II.; + _The Four Facardins, an Arabian tale_ [in part a translation, and in + part an original continuation by Lewis, of Hamilton’s tale, _Les + Quatre Facardins_] in Vols. II. and III.; and _Amorassan or the + spirit of the frozen ocean, an Oriental Romance_ [in part a close + translation from _Der Faust der Morgenländer_ by F. M. von Klinger] + in Vol. IV. + + + + + APPENDIX B. II. + BOOKS OF REFERENCE, CRITICAL, HISTORICAL, ETC. + +_An alphabetical list of the books most useful in a study of this subject. +Standard references of obvious value, e.g. the Dictionary of National +Biography, Boswell’s Johnson, Chalmers’s English Poets, Lane’s Arabian +Nights, etc., are, with a few exceptions, omitted._ + + 1. _Arabian Nights._ + + (_a_) =Burton, Sir Richard F.= _A Plain and literal translation of + the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, now entitled the Book of the + Thousand Nights and a Night, with introduction, explanatory + notes on the manners and customs of Moslem men and a terminal + essay upon the history of the nights_ (in 10 vols.), Benares, + 1885. Printed by the Kamashastra Society for private subscribers + only. Cf. especially in Vol. X., Burton’s _Terminal Essay_, and + W. F. Kirby’s _Bibliography of the Thousand and One Nights and + their imitations_. + + (_b_) =Payne, John.= _The Book of the thousand nights and one + night ... done into English prose and verse ..._ by John Payne. + New York, 1884. 9 vols. (Villon Society Publications; Vols. + III.–IX., published in London.) Cf. especially essay at end of + Vol. IX. on the _Book of the Thousand Nights and one Night: its + history and character_. + + (_c_) =Payne, John.= _Alaeddin and the Enchanted lamp; Zein ul + Asnam and the King of the Jinn: Two stories done into English + from the recently discovered Arabic text, by John Payne_, + London, 1889. + + 2. _Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen und Literaturen_, ... + herausgegeben v. Alois Brandl u. Heinrich Morf ... Braunschweig + [especially the volumes since 1902]. + + 3. =Armeno, M. Christoforo.= + + (_a_) _Peregrinaggio di tre giovanni figliuoli del Re di + Serendippo. Per opera di M. Christoforo Armeno dalla Persiana + nell’ Italiana lingua trasportato_, Venetia, 1557. + + (_b_) _Die Reise der Söhne Giaffers aus dem Italienischen des + Christoforo Armeno übersetzt durch Johann Wetzel 1583_, + herausgegeben von Hermann Fischer und Johann Bolte, Tübingen, + 1895. + + 4. =Beckford, William.= + + (_a_) _Vathek, an Arabian Tale_, edited by R. Garnett, London, + 1893. + + (_b_) _Vathek, réimprimé sur l’original français avec la préface_ + [de 1876] _de Stéphane Mallarmé_, Paris ... 1893. + + 5. =Bédier, Joseph.= _Les Fabliaux. Études de littérature populaire et + d’histoire littéraire du moyen âge...._ Paris, 1895, 2^e éd. + + 6. =Beers, H. A.= _History of English Romanticism in the Eighteenth + Century._ New York, 1899. + + 7. =Beljame, A.= _Le public et les hommes de lettres en Angleterre au + dixhuitième siècle, 1660–1774_; Paris, 1897, 2^e éd. + + 8. =Beloe, William.= _Miscellanies: consisting of Poems, Classical + Extracts, and Oriental Apologues, by Wm. Beloe, F.S.A., Translator + of Herodotus, Aulus Gellius, etc._, London, 1795. 3 vols. + + 9. =Bidpai.= _The Fables of Pilpay._ + + (_a_) _The Fables of Pilpay_ [translated from the French + translation of Gilbert Gaulmin and Dāwūd Said, by Joseph Harris, + and remodelled by the Rev. J. Mitford]. London, *1818. + + (_b_) _The Earliest English Version of the Fables of Bidpai, The + Morall Philosophie of Doni by Sir T. North_, edited by Joseph + Jacobs, London, 1888. + + (_c_) _Kalilah and Dimnah; or the Fables of Bidpai: being an + account of their literary history, with an English translation + of the later Syriac version of the same, and notes by J. G. N. + Keith-Falconer_, Cambridge [England], 1885. + + (_d_) =Knatchbull, W.= _Kalila and Dimna or the Fables of Bidpai, + translated from the Arabic_, Oxford, 1819. + + 10. _British Museum Catalogue of Printed Books_, _passim_. + + 11. =Brunetière, Ferdinand.= _Études critiques sur l’histoire de la + littérature française, huitième série_, Paris, 1907. [Contains a + review of Pierre Martino: _L’Orient dans la littérature française au + XVII^e et au XVIII^e siècle_, Paris, 1906.] + + 12. _Le Cabinet des Fées; ou Collection Choisie des Contes des Fées, + et Autres Contes Merveilleux_ [edited by C. J. Mayer], 41 Tom. (This + collection originally consisted of but 37 vols. Four additional + volumes were published at Geneva with two title-pages, on the second + of which is the date 1793, making the numbers of volumes all + together 41.) Paris et Geneva, 1785–1789. This collection contains + _Abdalla (Adventures d’)_; _Aulnoy (Comtesse d’)_; _Bidpai et + Lokman_; _Caylus (Comte de)_; _Contes des genies_; _Contes turcs_; + _Gueulette_ [sic]; _Hamilton (A. comte d’)_; _Mille (Les) et un + jours, contes persans_; _Mille (Les) et une nuit, contes Arabes_; + _... suite (Dom Chavis et M. Cazotte)_; _Nourjahad_; _Perrault + (Charles)_. + + 13. =Campbell, Killis.= + + (_a_) _Study of the Romance of the Seven Sages, etc._ in + _Publications of the Modern Language Association of America_, + 1899, Vol. XIV., 1 (n.s. VII., 1), edited by J. W. Bright, + Baltimore, 1899. + + (_b_) _The Seven Sages of Rome edited from the manuscripts with + introduction, notes, and glossary_, in the Albion Series, Ginn & + Co., Boston, New York, Chicago, London, 1907. + + 14. =Chambers, Sir William.= _Dissertation on Oriental Gardening._ + London, 1772. + + 15. =Charlanne, Louis.= _L’influence française en Angleterre au XVII^e + siècle._ Paris, 1906. + + 16. =Chauvin, Victor.= _Bibliographie des ouvrages arabes ou relatifs + aux arabes, publiés dans l’Europe chrétienne de 1810 à 1885_, par + Victor Chauvin, professeur à l’université de Liége: ouvrage auquel + l’Académie des Inscriptions a accordé en partage le prix + Delalande-Guerineau. Liége et Leipzig, 1892–1905 [9 vols, in 3, 1 + tab.]. Contents: 1, _Préface, Table de Schnurrer, Les proverbes_; 2, + _Kalilah_; 3, _Louqmâne et les Fabulistes, Barlaam, Antar et les + romans de chevalerie_; 4–7, _Les Mille et Une Nuits_; 8, _Syntipas_; + 9, _Pierre Alphonse...._ + + 17. =Clarétie, Leo.= _Le roman en France au début du 18^{me} siècle; + Lesage, romancier, d’après de nouveaux documents._ Paris, 1890. + + 18. =Clouston, W. A.= + + (_a_) _Flowers from a Persian Garden, and other papers._ London, + 1890. + + (_b_) _Group of Eastern romances and stories from the Persian, + Tamil and Urdu: with introduction, notes, and appendix._ + Privately printed, Glasgow, 1889. + + (_c_) _Literary Coincidences ... and Other Papers._ Glasgow, 1892. + + (_d_) _Popular Tales and Fictions, their migrations and + transformations._ Edinburgh and London, 1887, 2 vols. + + 19. =Boileau-Despreaux, Nicolas.= _Les Héros de roman ..._ edited by + T. F. Crane, Boston, 1902. + + 20. =Dickinson, G. L.= _Letters from a Chinese Official, being an + Eastern View of Western Civilization_, New York, 1903. McClure, + Phillips & Co. Cf. William Jennings Bryan’s _Letters to a Chinese + Official_. McClure, Phillips & Co., New York, 1906. + + 21. =Drake, Nathan, M.D.= + + (_a_) _Essays, Biographical, Critical and Historical, Illustrative + of the Tatler, Spectator and Guardian, etc._ London, 1805, 3 + vols. + + (_b_) _Essays, Biographical, Critical and Historical, Illustrative + of the Rambler, Adventurer and Idler, and of the Various + Periodical Papers, which in Imitation of the Writings of Addison + and Steele have been published ... [to] 1809._ London, 1809, 2 + vols. + + 22. =Drujon, F.= _Les Livres à clef._ Paris, 1888, 2 vols. + + 23. =Dunlop, John Colin.= _History of Prose Fiction._ New edition + revised ... by Henry Wilson. (Bohn’s Standard Library), London, + 1896, 2 vols. + + 24. =Fürst, Rudolph.= _Die Vorläufer der Modernen Novelle im 18^{ten} + Jahrhundert_, Halle a. S., 1897. + + 25. =Gladwin, Francis.= _The Persian Moonshee...._ Calcutta [Persian + and English], 1795; another edition, London, 1801. + + 26. =Goldsmith, Oliver.= _The Citizen of the World_, edited by A. + Dobson, London, 1893, 2 vols. + + 27. =Gueullette, T. S.= and =Caylus, Comte de=. + + (_a_) _Chinese Tales, or the marvellous adventures of the Mandarin + Fum-Hoam, translated from the French of Thomas Simon Gueullette. + Oriental Tales, translated from the French of the Comte de + Caylus._ London, 1817. + + (b) _The Transmigration of the Mandarin Fum-Hoam_, edited by L. D. + Smithers, 1894. + + (_c_) _The Thousand and one quarters of an hour. (Tartarian + Tales)_ edited by L. C. Smithers, London, 1893. Nichols & + Company. + + 28. (_a_) _Haoui-heu-Chuen. The Fortunate Union, a_ + + _Romance from the Chinese original with notes and illustrations by + J. F. Davis._ London, 1829. + + (_b_) _Hau-Kiou Chooan; or the pleasing History a translation [by + J. Wilkinson] from the Chinese ... to which are added; I. The + Argument or story of a Chinese Play; II. A Collection of Chinese + Proverbs; and III. Fragments of Chinese Poetry, with notes_ + [edited by Thomas Percy], 4 vols., R. and J. Dodsley, London, + 1761. + + 29. =D’Herbelot de Molainville, B.= _Bibliothèque orientale ou + Dictionnaire universel, contenant généralement tout ce qui regarde + la connaissance des peuples de l’Orient, leurs histoires et + traditions véritables ou fabuleuses, leurs religions, sectes et + politique, etc._, Paris, 1697. [Finished after 1695 by A. Galland.] + + 30. =Hettner, Hermann.= _Literaturgeschichte des 18^{ten} + Jahrhunderts._ Braunschweig, 1893. + + 31. _Hitopadesa. Fables and proverbs from the Sanskrit, being the + Hitopadesa, translated by Charles Wilkins_ [in 1787, with a preface + on “Pilpay”], with an introduction by Henry Morley, London, 1888. + + 32. =Hole, Richard.= _Remarks on the Arabian Nights Entertainments, in + which the origin of Sinbad’s voyages ... is particularly + considered._ London, 1797. + + 33. =Hoops, Johannes.= _Present Problems of English Literary History_, + in _Congress of Arts and Science, Universal Exposition, St. Louis_, + 1904, edited by Howard J. Rogers ... Boston and New York, 1906, Vol. + III., p. 415. + + 34. =Hoppner, J.= _Oriental Tales translated into English Verse._ + London, 1805. + + 35. =Hunt, J. H. Leigh.= _Classic Tales, Serious and lively. With + critical essays on the merits and reputations of the authors._ + London, 1806–1807, 5 vols. [contains selections from Hawkesworth, + Johnson, Goldsmith, Marmontel, Voltaire]. + + 36. =Inatulla.= _Persian Tales._ + + (_a_) Ināyat Allāh. _Tales (the Baar Danesh) tr. from the Persian + of Inatulla of Delhi_ [by A. Dow], London, 1768, 2 vols. + + (_b_) _Bahar-danush, or Garden of knowledge, an oriental romance, + tr. from the Persic by Jonathan Scott._ Shrewsbury, 1799, 3 + vols. in 2. + + 37. =Johnson, Samuel.= _Rasselas_, edited by G. B. Hill, Oxford, 1887. + + 38. =Jones, Sir William.= _Works...._ London, 1807, 13 vols. Cf. also + Chalmers’s _English Poets_, London, 1810, Vol. XVIII., pp. 453–508. + + 39. =Kalidasa.= _The Story of Dooshwanta and Sakoontala, tr. from the + Mahabharata, a Poem in the Sanskreet Language, By Charles Wilkins, + Esq._ London, 1795 [originally published in Dalrymple’s _Oriental + Repertory_, London, 1793; another edition, 1808, published by East + India Company]. + + 40. =Keightley, Thomas.= _The Fairy Mythology_, London, 1833, 2 vols. + + 41. =Knolles, Richard.= _Generall Historie of the Turkes from the + first beginning of that nation_, ... London, 1603. Cf. Sir Paul + Ricaut ...: _The History of the Turkish Empire From the Year 1623 to + the Year 1677...._ London ... 1680. + + 42. =Koerting, Heinrich Karl Otto.= _Geschichte des französischen + Romans im XVII^{ten} Jahrhundert, 2^{te} durch ein Vorwort ... + vermehrte Ausgabe_, Oppeln, 1891 [2 vols, in 1]. + + 43. =Loiseleur-Deslongchamps, A. L. A.= + + (_a_) _Essai sur les fables indiennes et sur leur introduction en + Europe, suivi du Roman des sept sages de Rome, en prose publié + pour la première fois d’après un manuscrit de la Bibliothèque + royale._ Paris, 1838. + + (_b_) _Les Mille et un Jours ... Traduits ... par Pétis de + Lacroix_ ... nouvelle édition ... Paris, 1843. [Cf. especially + _Introduction_ by editor.] + + 44. =Marmontel, J. F.= + + (_a_) _Memoirs of Jean François Marmontel. With an essay by + William D. Howells._ In two volumes, Boston ... 1878. + + (_b_) _Marmontel’s Moral Tales Selected with a revised + translation, biographical introduction, and notes by Geo. + Saintsbury...._ London, 1895. + + 45. =Martino, Pierre.= _L’Orient dans la littérature française au + XVII^e et au XVIII^e siècle._ Paris, 1906. + + 46. =Menendez y Pelayo, D. M.= _Origenes de la Novela._ Tomo I. + _Tratado historico sobre la primitiva novela española...._ Madrid, + 1905, in _Nueva Biblioteca de Autores Españoles_. + + 47. =Moore, Thomas.= _The Epicurean, a Tale with ... illustrations by + J. M. W. Turner._ London, 1839. + + 48. =Murtadi.= Murtadhā ibn al-Khafif. _The Egyptian History, treating + of the Pyramids, the inundations of the Nile and other prodigies ... + written ... in the Arabian tongue by Murtadi ... rendered into + French ... by M. Vattier ... and thence ... into English by J. + Davies_, London, 1672 [contains _Charoba_]. + + 49. _The Novelists Magazine._ London, 1780–1781, in 23 vols. [contains + many oriental tales]. + + 50. =Ouseley, Sir William= (1771–1842). + + (_a_) _Bakhtyar nameh, or story of Prince Bakhtyar and the ten + viziers, a series of Persian tales from a manuscript in the + collection of Sir William Ouseley_ [text in Persian and + English], London, 1801. + + (_b_) _Bakhtyār nāma; a Persian romance tr. from a manuscript text + by Sir W. Ouseley, edited with introduction and notes by W. A. + Clouston._ [Larkhall, Lanarkshire], 1883. + + (_c_) _Oriental collections, consisting of original essays and + dissertations, translations, and miscellaneous papers, + illustrating the history and antiquities, the arts, sciences, + and literature of Asia._ London, 1797–1798, 2 vols. + + 51. [=Percy, Thomas=, editor]. _Miscellaneous Pieces relating to the + Chinese_, London, 1762, 2 vols. + + 52. =Pétit de Julleville, L.= [editor]. _Histoire de la langue et la + littérature française des origines à 1900_, Paris, 1899. + + 53. =Phelps, W. L.= _Beginnings of the English Romantic Movement; a + study in eighteenth-century literature._ Boston, 1893. + + 54. =Raleigh, Walter.= _The English Novel...._ Fifth edition.... New + York, 1904. + + 55. =Redding, Cyrus.= _Memoirs of William Beckford of Fonthill...._ + London, 1859, 2 vols. + + 56. =Richardson, John.= _Dissertation on languages, literatures ... of + Eastern nations_, appended to _Dictionary of Persian, Arabic and + English ... new edition by Chas. Wilkins...._ 1806. + + 57. =Rigault, A. H.= _Histoire de la querelle des anciens et des + modernes...._ Paris, 1856, 4 vols. + + 58. =Saintsbury, George.= _Essays on French Novelists...._ London, + 1891 [especially on _A. Hamilton_]. + + 59. =Sayous, P. A.= _Histoire de la littérature française à l’étranger + depuis le commencement du XVII^e siècle._ Paris, 1853 [2 vols.]. + + 60. =Schofield, W. H.= _English Literature from the Norman Conquest to + Chaucer._ New York and London, 1906. + + 61. =Scott, Jonathan= (1754–1829). _Tales, anecdotes and letters + translated from the Arabic and Persian._ Shrewsbury, 1800. + + 62. =Seele, Wilhelm.= _Voltaire’s Roman Zadig ou la Destinée. Eine + Quellen-Forschung...._ Leipzig, Reudnitz, 1891. + + 63. =Seeley, J. R.= _The Expansion of England._ Boston and London, + 1901. + + 64. =Stephen, Sir Leslie.= _English Literature and Society in the + Eighteenth Century, Ford Lectures, 1903...._ New York and London, + 1904. _History of English Thought in the Eighteenth Century...._ + London, 1876, 2 vols.; Third edition, New York, 1902, 2 vols. _Hours + in a Library...._ Second Series, London, 1876. + + 65. _Tootinameh (Tūti-Namah or Tales of a parrot)._ + + (_a_) _Tootinameh ... or Tales of a parrot, in the Persian + language with an English translation._ Calcutta, 1792. + + (_b_) _Tales of a Parrot done into English from a Persian + manuscript entitled Tooti-Nameh, by_ [B. Gerrans] _a teacher of + the Persic, Arabic, Hebrew, Syriac, Chaldaic, Greek, Latin, + Italian, French and English languages_. London, 1792. + + (_c_) _The Tooti-Nameh ... with an English translation_ [by F. + Gladwin] ... Calcutta [printed], London, 1801. + + 66. =Varnhagen, Hermann.= + + (_a_) _Ein indisches Märchen auf seiner Wanderung durch die + asiatischen und europäischen Litteraturen...._ Berlin, 1882. + + (_b_) _Longfellow’s Tales of a Wayside Inn und ihre Quellen...._ + Berlin, 1884. + + 67. =Warren, F. M.= _History of the Novel Previous to the Seventeenth + Century._ New York, 1895. + + 68. =Weber, Henry William= (1783–1818). _Tales of the East, comprising + the most Popular Romances of Oriental Origin and the best Imitations + by European Authors, with new translations and additional tales, + never before published_ [with a useful preface by H. W. W.], + Edinburgh, 1812, 3 vols. Vol. I. (_I._) _Arabian Nights._ (_II._) + _New Arabian Nights._ Vol. II. (_III._) _The Persian Tales._ (_IV._) + _The Persian Tales of Inatulla._ (_V._) _The Oriental Tales by + Caylus._ (_VI._) _Nourjahad_ (by Mrs. Sheridan). Vol. III. (_VII._) + _The Turkish Tales._ (_VIII._) _The Tartarian Tales_ (by S. + Gueullette). (_IX._) _The Chinese Tales_ (by S. Gueullette) (_X._) + _The Mogul Tales_ (by S. Gueullette). (_XI._) _Tales of the Genii_ + (by “Sir Chas. Morell,” _i.e._ Ridley). (_XII._) _History of + Abdallah the Son of Hanif._ + + 69. =Weston, Stephen.= + + (_a_) _Fan-hy-cheu, a tale, in Chinese and English, [taken from a + collection of Novels entitled the Heart Blue or Heart true + History] with notes and a short grammar of the Chinese + language._ London, 1814. + + (_b_) _Persian Recreations; or New tales, with explanatory notes + on the original text and curious details of two ambassadors to + James I. and George III...._ new edition, London, 1812. + + 70. =Whittuck, Charles.= _The Good Man of the XVIII. Century, a + monograph on XVIII. century didactic literature._ London, 1901. + + 71. =Warton, Thomas.= _History of English Poetry ..._ [contains a + dissertation on the _Origin of Romantic Fiction in Europe_], new + edition, London, 1824, 4 vols. + + + + + INDEX + + + _Abdeker_, 102, 103. + + Abu Jaafar Ebn Tophail, 126, 127. + + Addison, Joseph, 232, 238, 244, 246, 255; + moralistic tales, 79–85, 110; + philosophic tales, 112–118; + satiric tales, 169–173. + + “Addison, Mr.,” 106. + + _Adventurer_, 89–95, 109, 125, 224 n. 2; + _see_ App. B, I., No. 42, pp. 281, 282. + + _Adventures of Abdalla, Son of Hanif, The_, 38–41, 70, 252. + + _Adventures of Prince Jakaya, The_, 47. + + _African Eclogues_, 53, 54. + + _Almoran and Hamet_, 95–97. + + _Amorassan_, 71, 72, 105 n. 5. + + _Amusements Serious and Comical_, 163–170. + + _Amusements sérieux et comiques_, 156–170, 181 n. 1. + + _Anaconda, The_, 51. + + _Arabian Nights_, xv, xvii, xxii, xxiii, xxvi, 1–13, 41, 62, 100, 102, + 108, 214, 228, 230, 233, 235, 241–244, 252, 254, _et passim_. + + Armeno, M. Chr., 30. + + Arnold, Matthew, 251. + + _Asem_, 125, 126. + + _Asiatic Princess, The_, 50. + + Atterbury, Bishop, 230, 238, 244. + + Aubin, Penelope, _Noble Slaves_, 46. + + + _Bababec_, 207, 209, 210. + + Bage, Robert, _The Fair Syrian_, 51. + + _Bajazet_, 46. + + _Baloon, The_, 105. + + _Barlaam and Josaphat_, xix. + + _Beautiful Turk, The_, 46. + + Beckford, William, xv, xxvi, 37–41, 61–71, 252. + + _Bedukah_, 52 n. 2. + + _Bélier, Le_, 217–219. + + Bentley, R., _Modern Novels_, 46. + + Bickerstaffe, Isaac, 204 n. 2. + + _Bidpai_, xix, xx, 104, 105, 110, 117 n. 4. + + Bignon, Jean Paul, 38. + + _Black and the White, The_, 207, 209. + + _Blossoms of Morality, The_, 107. + + Boccalini, T., 240. + + Boileau, 233, 243. + + Boles, W., 202. + + _Bonze, The_, 126, 131–132. + + Bougeant, G. H., 157, 213. + + Bradshaw, William, 158. + + _Bramine’s Journal, The_, 204. + + Brémond, G. de, 46. + + _Brief and Merry History of Great Britain, A_, 202. + + Brown, T., 85 n. 1, 156 n. 1, 163–170. + + Bryan, W. J., 191 n. 1. + + Byron, Lord, xvii, 71, 189, 203 n. 2, 236, 251. + + + _Caliph of Bagdad, The_, 105. + + _Candide_, 144–151. + + _Castle of Otranto, The_, 236, 248. + + Caylus, A. C. P. de T., Comte de, xxiv, 157, 211–213, 246. + + Cazotte, M., 41. + + Chamberlain, Paul, 200. + + Chambers, Sir William, 196 n. 1, 224 n. 2. + + _Charoba_, 55–61, 229, 230, 246 n. 2, 251. + + Chatterton, Thomas, 52–54. + + Chavis, Dom, 41. + + Chilcot, Harriet, 52 n. 2. + + Chinese architecture and decorations, craze for, 223–225. + + _Chinese Letters_, 199. + + _Chinese Tales_, _see_ Gueullette. + + _Citizen of the World, The_, xv, xxvi, 72, 93 n. 1, 135, 157, 179, + 184–199, 222, 223, 231. + + Collins, William, 52–53. + + _Conduct of Christians, The_, 201. + + _Consolidator, The_, 199–200. + + _Contentment_, 105. + + _Contes Philosophiques_, 132–140, 144–151, 231. + + Cooper, Rev. Mr., 107–109. + + “Cornwall, Barry,” 71, 251, 252. + + _Coverley, Sir Roger de_, 241, 242. + + Crébillon, C. P. J. de, xxv, 277, App. B, I., No. 29. + + + D’Argens, Marquis, 199. + + D’Aulnoy, Countess, 228 n. 1 (_c_), 239. + + Defoe, Daniel, 163, 165, 237; + _The Farther Adventures of Robinson Crusoe_, 48; + _Consolidator_, 199, 200; + _Tour through England_, 200; + _System of Magic_, 203; + _Story of Ali Abrahazen and the Devil_, 203; + _Story of the Arabian Magician in Egypt_, 203; + _Robinson Crusoe_, 12, 129, 130, 242. + + De Quincey, T., 253, 254. + + Dickens, C., 254. + + Dickinson, G. Lowes, 191 n. 1. + + _Dinarbas_, 103, 104. + + _Disciplina Clericalis_, xix. + + _Disinterested Nabob, The_, 49. + + _Dissertation on Oriental Gardening_, 196 n. 1. + + _Doom of a City, The_, 252. + + D’Orville, _The Adventures of Prince Jakaya_, 47. + + Dramas, 76 n. 2, 96 n. 1, 230 n. 1. + + Dufresny, C. R., 156, 163–170, 181 n. 1. + + + _Eastern Eclogues_, 52 n. 2. + + Edgeworth, Maria, 100–102, 110, 232. + + _Elia, Essays of_, 162 n. 1. + + _Espion Turc, L’_, 155, 157; + _see also_ _Turkish Spy_ and Marana. + + Evelyn, John, 239 n. 1. + + + _Fables of Pilpay_, xix, xx, 104, 105, 110, 117 n. 4. + + _Fair Syrian, The_, 51. + + _Farther Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, The_, 48. + + Fauques de Vaucluse, Mme., 102. + + _Faust der Morgenländer, Der_, 71. + + _Female Captive, The_, 50–51, 210. + + Fielding, Henry, 131, 233, 242. + + Fitzgerald, Edward, 251. + + _Fleur d’Epine_, 213–217. + + _Four Facardins, The_, 219, 220. + + _Friendship put to the Test_, 73, 76. + + + Galland, Antoine, xvi, xxii-xxv, 24, 81, 235, 236, 246. + + _Gebir_, 55, 59–61, 251. + + _Generall History of the Turks, The_, xxi, 236 n. 1. + + Goldsmith, Oliver, xv, xxvi, 72, 92, 125, 126, 135, 179, 183 n. 1, + 185–199, 222, 223, 231, 245. + + Gomez, Mme. de, 200, 201. + + _Good Bramin, The_, 139. + + Graffigny, Mme. F. Huguet de, 199. + + _Grateful Turk, The_, 105. + + _Guardian_, 27, 81; + _see also_ Addison and Steele. + + Gueullette, Thomas Simon, 31; + _Chinese Tales_, 31–36, 190; + _Mogul Tales_, 31, 36–38, 70, 85–88, 252; + _Tartarian Tales_, 32, 36; + _Peruvian Tales_, 32. + + _Gulliver’s Travels_, 29. + + + _Hai Ebn Yokdhan_, [or “_Yockdhan_”] _The Life of_, xxii, 126–131. + + Hale, Edward Everett, _My Double and How He Undid Me_, 39 n. 1. + + _Hall of Eblis, The_, 252. + + _Hamet and Selinda_, 105. + + Hamilton, Antoine, 68–70, 157, 213–220. + + _Hassan_, 105. + + Hatchett, William, 38. + + _Hattige_, 46. + + _Hau Kiou Chooan_, 190. + + Hawkesworth, John, 70, 89–97, 109, 125. + + Haywood, Mrs. Eliza, 52. + + _Hermit, The_, 73, 77–79, 110, 232. + + _Hieroglyphic Tales_, 157, 220, 221. + + Hillier, A., 202. + + _History and Adventures of an Atom_, 203. + + _History of Abdalla and Zoraide, The_, 71, 72, 105 n. 2, 180 n. 1. + + _History of Arsaces, The_, 105. + + _History of Henrietta de Bellgrave, The_, 49. + + _History of Rodomond and the Beautiful Indian, The_, 49. + + _History of the Caliph Vathek_, see _Vathek_. + + Hughes, John, 29. + + _Humphrey Clinker_, 252. + + + _Interesting Anecdotes_, 106. + + Irving, Washington, 18 n. 2. + + Irwin, Eyles, 52 n. 2. + + + Johnson, Samuel, 54, 70, 79, 110, 245, 255; + moralistic tales, 88–93; + philosophic tales in _Rambler_ and _Idler_, 118–124; + _Rasselas_, xv, xxvi, 103, 110, 123, 124, 140–154, 227, 232, 248. + + Johnstone, Charles, 286, App. B, I., No. 63, _see also History of + Arsaces_. + + Jones, Sir William, xvii, xviii, 54, 70, 256. + + + _Kalila and Dimna_, xix, 104. + + Kelly, Hugh, 76 n. 2. + + Klinger, F. M., 71. + + Knight, Ellis Cornelia, 103 n. 1. + + Knolles, R., xxi, 236 n. 1. + + + Lamb, Charles, 162. + + Landor, Walter Savage, _Gebir_, 55, 59–61, 251. + + Langhorne, John, 97. + + Le Camus, A., 102. + + Le Sage, A. L. R., 22 n. 1, 24. + + _Letters from a Chinese Official_, 191 n. 1. + + _Letters from Xo-Ho_, 187, 188. + + _Letters of a Peruvian Princess_, 199. + + _Letters to a Chinese Official_, 191 n. 1. + + _Letters Writ by a Turkish Spy_, xvii, 158–162, 228, 239. + + _Lettres Persanes, Les_, 134, 156, 173–180. + + Lewis, Matthew Gregory, _The Anaconda_, 51; + _The Monk_, 27, 252; + _Romantic Tales_, 51, 71; + _Four Facardins_, 219 n. 1. + + _Life and Surprising Adventures of Friga Reveep ..., The_, 48–49. + + Lyttelton, Lord, 72 n. 1, 160, 178–186, 190. + + + Marana, G. P. xvii, 85 n. 1, 155–163, 189, 230, 240 n. 2. + + Marmontel, Jean François, xxv, 73–77, 79, 106, 110, 111 n. 1, 156, + 204–207. + + _Matron of Ephesus, The_, 194 n. 1. + + _Maugraby the Magician_, 42. + + _May-Flower_, 214–217. + + _Memnon the Philosopher_, 207, 209. + + Midgley, Robert, 158, 162 n. 1. + + _Milk for Babes_, 201, 202. + + _Mille et un Jours, Les_, xxiii; + _see also_ Pétis de la Croix. + + _Mille et un Nuits, Les_, 155; + _see_ Galland. + + _Mogul Tales_, _see_ Gueullette. + + _Monk, The_, 27, 252. + + Montagu, Lady M. W., 244. + + Montesquieu, C. de S., Baron de, xxiv, 156, 173–178, 189, 231. + + Moore, Thomas, xvii, 54, 70, 236, 251. + + _Moral Tales by Esteemed Writers_, 105. + + _Murad the Unlucky_, 100–102, 232. + + _Mysteries of Udolpho, The_, 67. + + + _New Arabian Nights_, 41–45, 252. + + _Noble Slaves_, 46. + + _Nourjahad_, 97–99, 227. + + Novel, The English, 241–243. + + + _Oriental Chronicle, The_, 202. + + _Oriental Eclogues_, by Collins, 52, 53; + by J. Scott, 54. + + Oriental fiction in England before eighteenth century, xix-xxii. + + _Orientalist, The_, 106. + + _Oriental Moralist, The_, 107–109. + + Oriental tale, definition of, xv, xvi. + + _Oriental Tales, The_, 211–213. + + _Ormar and Zabria_, 52 n. 2. + + + Parnell, Thomas, 73, 77–79, 110, 133, 232. + + _Peregrinaggio di tre giovanni figliuoli del Re di Serendippo_, 30. + + _Periodicals_, 224, 225; + _see_ Addison, Hawkesworth, Steele, and App. B, I., _passim_. + + Perrault, Charles, xxiii, 228, 238. + + _Perseis_, 201. + + _Persian Anecdotes_, 200, 201. + + _Persian Eclogues_, 52, 53. + + _Persian Letters_, by Lyttelton, 72 n. 1, 160, 178–186, 190; + by Montesquieu, _see_ _Lettres Persanes, Les_. + + _Persian Tales_, 13–25, 81, 233, 241, 248; + _see also_ Pétis de la Croix. + + _Persian Tales of Inatulla_, 92 n. 1. + + _Peruvian Tales_, _see_ Gueullette. + + Pétis de la Croix, xxiv, 24, 246; + _see also_ _Persian Tales_. + + Philips, Ambrose, 221, 222, 246; + _see also_ _Persian Tales_. + + _Pied Piper of Hamelin, The_, 34. + + Pilkington, Mrs. Mary P., 50. + + Pococke, Edward, xxii, 130 n. 2. + + Pope, Alexander, 77, 221, 222, 230, 238, 243, 244. + + _Princess of Babylon, The_, 207–209. + + _Progress of Romance, The_, 55. + + + _Quatre Facardins, Les_, 219, 220. + + + _Ragguagli di Parnaso_, 240. + + _Ram, The_, 218, 219. + + _Rasselas_, xv, xxvi, 103, 110, 123, 124, 140–154, 227, 232, 248; + _see also_ _Dinarbas_, 103, 104. + + _Recollections of the Arabian Nights_, 252. + + Reeve, Clara, 55, 246 n. 2. + + Ridley, Rev. J., 102. + + _Robber Caliph, The_, 42, 44, 45. + + _Robinson Crusoe_, 12, 129, 130, 242; + _Farther Adventures of_, 48. + + _Romance of an Hour, The_, 76 n. 2. + + Romanticism, xv-xxiii, Chap. V. + + _Romantic Tales_, 51. + + + _Santon Barsisa, The_, 27, 28, 81. + + Scott, John, 52, 54. + + Scott, Sir Walter, 253. + + _Seged, Lord of Ethiopia_, 123, 124. + + Segrais, J. Regnauld de, _Bajazet_, 46. + + _Selima and Azor_, 204 n. 2. + + _Sendebar_, xix, 26. + + _Seven Sages of Rome, The_, 26. + + Sheridan, Mrs. Frances, 97. + + Smollett, T., 203, 252. + + _Soliman II._, 106, 204–207. + + _Solyman and Almena_, 97, 99–100. + + Southey, Robert, xvii, 42, 54, 70, 236, 251, 252. + + _Spectator_, _see_ Addison and Steele. + + Steele, Sir Richard, 27, 79, 170, 232; + _see_ Addison. + + Sterne, Laurence, 204. + + Stevenson, R. L., 254. + + _Story of Ali Abrahazen and the Devil_, 203. + + _Story of the Arabian Magician in Egypt_, 203. + + _Sultan, or a Peep into the Seraglio, The_, 204 n. 2. + + Swift, J., 162, 204 n. 1, 244; + _Gulliver’s Travels_, 29. + + _System of Magic, A_, 203. + + + _Tales of the Genii_, 102, 103. + + _Tartarian Tales_, _see_ Gueullette. + + _Tatler_, 79. + + Temple, Sir William, 246. + + Tennyson, A., 252. + + Thackeray, W. M., 254. + + _Thalaba_, _see_ Southey. + + Thomson, James (1832–1882), 252. + + _Thorn-Flower_, 214–217. + + _Thousand and One Days_, _see_ _Persian Tales_. + + _Thousand and One Nights_, _see_ _Arabian Nights_. + + _Tour through England_, 200. + + _Travels and Adventures of the Three Princes of Serendip_, 29–31. + + _Travels of Scarmentado_, 207, 210. + + _Trial and Execution of the Grand Mufti, The_, 202. + + _Turkish Spy, The_, xvii, 157–162, 228, 239. + + _Turkish Tales_, 25–29, 80, 252. + + + _Unfortunate Princess, The_, 52. + + + _Vathek_, xvii, xxvi, 37–41, 43 n. 1, 61–71, 230, 248, 251. + + _Vision of Mirza, The_, 110, 112–114, 126, 232. + + _Vizirs, The_, 102. + + Voltaire, F. M. A. de, 68, 70, 126; + “_contes philosophiques_,” 132–140, 231, and 144–151 (_Candide_); + satiric tales, 156, 157, 207–211, 231. + + + Walpole, Horace, 29 n. 3, 157, 187, 188, 220, 221, 223, 236, 248. + + _Watermen of Besons, The_, 73, 75, 76. + + _White Bull, The_, 207, 209. + + Whitehead, William, 224. + + _Wonderful Travels of Prince Fan-Feredin, The_, 213. + + Wordsworth, W., 253. + + _World_, 224, 225. + + _World as It Goes, The_, 138–140. + + + _Zadig_, 126, 132–138; + _see also_ _Hermit, The_. + +----- + +Footnote 1: + +_Standard Dictionary of the English Language_, Vol. II., New York, + London, and Toronto, 1895. + +Footnote 2: + +Martino, Pierre, _L’Orient dans la littérature française au XVII^e et au + XVIII^e siècle_, Paris, 1906, p. 20. + +Footnote 3: + +Galland, _Paroles remarquables des Orientaux_, Paris, 1694, + Avertissement, quoted by P. Martino, _op. cit._, p. 221. + +Footnote 4: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 73, pp. 288, 289. + +Footnote 5: + +Cf. F. Brunetière, _Études critiques sur l’histoire de la Littérature + française, huitième série_, Paris, 1907: _L’Orient dans la littérature + française_, p. 183: “Schopenhauer, dont la philosophie n’est elle-même + qu’un bouddhisme occidental, a écrit quelque part, en 1819 ou 1822, + que ‘le XIX^e siècle ne devrait guère moins un jour à la connaissance + du vieux monde oriental que le XVI^e siècle à la découverte ou à la + révélation de l’antiquité gréco-romaine.’” + +Footnote 6: + +Cf. pp. 104, 105, and App. B, I., No. 10, p. 271, _post_. + +Footnote 7: + +M. de Cézy, French ambassador to Constantinople, thirty years before + Racine’s _Bajazet_, brought the original story to Paris. Cf. P. + Martino, _op. cit._, p. 196. + +Footnote 8: + +Galland and Pétis de la Croix both went to the East with embassies. + +Footnote 9: + +_Nathaniel Hawthorne_, by G. E. Woodberry, in the American Men of + Letters Series. Boston and New York, 1902, p. 54; cf. p. 12. + +Footnote 10: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 4, p. 269. + +Footnote 11: + +Proverbial despite the “extreme simplicity of its style,” noted by Mr. + John Payne, Vol. IX., pp. 373, 375, of his edition of _The Book of the + Thousand Nights and a Night_. London, 1884. “Nothing can be more + unlike the idea of barbaric splendour, of excessive and heterogeneous + ornament, that we are accustomed to associate with the name, than the + majority of the tales that compose the collection. The life described + in it is mainly that of the people, those Arabs so essentially brave, + sober, hospitable, and kindly, almost hysterically sensitive to + emotions of love and pity as well as to artistic impressions. + + * * * * * + +The splendours of description, the showers of barbaric pearl and gold, + that are generally attributed to the work exist but in isolated + instances. The descriptions are usually extremely naïve.” + +Footnote 12: + +Cf. _Rambler_, No. 17. + +Footnote 13: + +_The Story of the Sleeper Awakened or The Dead Alive._ + +Footnote 14: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 15, p. 273. + +Footnote 15: + +The _Persian Tales_, in _Tales of the East_, edited by Henry Weber. + Edinburgh, 1812, Vol. II., p. 455. + +Footnote 16: + +Washington Irving compares the reading-room of the British Museum to the + scene in “an old Arabian tale, of a philosopher who was shut up in an + enchanted library, in the bosom of a mountain, that opened only once a + year; where he made the spirits of the place obey his commands, and + bring him books of all kinds of dark knowledge, so that at the end of + the year, when the magic portal once more swung open on its hinges, he + issued forth so versed in forbidden lore, as to be able to soar above + the heads of the multitude and to control the powers of Nature.”—_The + Art of Bookmaking_, in the _Sketch-Book_. + +Footnote 17: + +It is particularly difficult in the case of the _Persian Tales_, because + Le Sage “revised” the manuscripts. + +Footnote 18: + +_Les Mille et une Nuit [sic], Contes Arabes traduits en François [sic] + par M. Galland. A Paris_, 1704–1717. + +Footnote 19: + +_Les Mille et un Jour [sic] Contes Persans traduits en François [sic] + par M. Pétis de la Croix. A Paris_, 1710–1712. + +Footnote 20: + +Cf. App. B, I., Nos. 7 and 15 (_b_), pp. 270 and 273. + +Footnote 21: + +Cf. _Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen und Literaturen_, Vol. + CXI. (n. s., XI.), pp. 106–121, “Studien zu M. G. Lewis’s Roman + ‘Ambrosio, or the Monk,’” by Otto Ritter; pp. 316–323, “Die + eigentliche Quelle von Lewis’s ‘Monk,’” by Georg Herzfeld; Vol. + CXIII., pp. 56–65, “Die angebliche Quelle von M. G. Lewis’s ‘Monk,’” + by Otto Ritter; Vol. CXIV., p. 167, under _Kleine Mitteilungen_, “Zu + Archiv CXIII., 63 (Lewis’s ‘Monk’),” by Otto Ritter. + +Footnote 22: + +Cf. App. A, pp. 259–262. + +Footnote 23: + +The Persian words also are given in the 1708 edition (App. B, I., No. 7, + p. 270). + +Footnote 24: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 20, p. 274. Cf. Horace Walpole’s coinage of the word + “serendipity,” meaning “accidental sagacity”; _Letters of Horace + Walpole_, edited by Mrs. Paget Toynbee in sixteen volumes. Oxford + MCMIII., Vol. III., pp. 203, 204; Letter No. 382, to Horace Mann, + January 28, 1754. + +Footnote 25: + +Cf. App. B, II., No. 3, p. 295. + +Footnote 26: + +_Die Reise der Söhne Giaffers aus dem Italienischen des Christoforo + Armeno übersetzt durch Johann Wetzel_, 1583, herausgegeben v. H. + Fischer und J. Bolte, Tübingen, 1895, p. 178. + +Footnote 27: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 22, p. 275. + +Footnote 28: + +Cf. _Orlando Furioso_, Canto XXXIV., Astolfo’s journey to the moon, + where wits are kept. + +Footnote 29: + +Cf. _Spectator_, No. 289. + +Footnote 30: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 23, pp. 275, 276. + +Footnote 31: + +One incident recalls Dr. Edward Everett Hale’s entertaining story, _My + Double and How He Undid Me_: A good fairy created for King Giamschid a + double, “a phantom, who ate with a very good appetite and who + pronounced at intervals, in the tone and voice of the true Giamschid, + a few sentences very much to the purpose.” (H. Weber’s _Tales of the + East_, 1812, Vol. III., p. 671.) The similarity is a mere coincidence. + Dr. Hale informs me that he was unacquainted with this story when he + wrote _My Double_. + +Footnote 32: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 81, p. 290. + +Footnote 33: + +The writer of a recent review, in the _New York Evening Post_, of Vol. + IV., Lane’s _Arabian Nights_, Bohn edition, just issued, interprets + the “African” magician of _Aladdin_ as the “Tunisian” magician, and + continues: “That Tunis was especially famous for magic does not seem + to be elsewhere recorded. Such was, and is, the reputation rather of + Morocco and of Africa farther west in general, and in this same tale + the magician is also called a Maghribi, strictly a Moroccan.” + +Footnote 34: + +Cf. App. A, p. 263. + +Footnote 35: + +Cf. opening scenes of _Vathek_. + +Footnote 36: + +Weber, _op. cit._, Vol. II., p. 290. + +Footnote 37: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 17, p. 274. + +Footnote 38: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 21, pp. 274, 275. + +Footnote 39: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 19, p. 274. + +Footnote 40: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 27, p. 277. + +Footnote 41: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 5 (_b_), p. 270. + +Footnote 42: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 48, p. 283. In the above-mentioned title, the + original spelling is preserved. + +Footnote 43: + +These two are included in a frame-tale called _The Lady’s Drawing-room_ + (1744). App. B, I., No. 35, p. 278. + +Footnote 44: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 76, p. 289. + +Footnote 45: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 89, (_a_), p. 292. + +Footnote 46: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 59, p. 286. + +Footnote 47: + +Cf. Voltaire’s _Travels of Scarmentado_, p. 210, _post_. + +Footnote 48: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 75, p. 289. + +Footnote 49: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 93, pp. 292, 293. + +Footnote 50: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 33, p. 278. + +Footnote 51: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 69, p. 288, Chilcot, Harriet: _Ormar and Zabria_; + and No. 64 (_a_), p. 287, Irwin, Eyles: _Bedukah_ and _Eastern + Eclogues_. + +Footnote 52: + +“Written originally for the entertainment of the Ladies of Tauris and + now translated,” a phrase omitted from later editions. Cf. Dr. + Johnson, _Life of Collins_ (Chalmers, _English Poets_. London, 1810, + Vol. XIII., p. 193): “In his last illness ... he spoke with + disapprobation of his Oriental Eclogues, as not sufficiently + expressive of Asiatic manners, and called them his Irish Eclogues.” + Cf. App. B, I., No. 34, p. 278. + +Footnote 53: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 61, p. 286. + +Footnote 54: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 67, p. 287. + +Footnote 55: + +The only other poems that may be classed as imaginative oriental + tales—and that only by stretching a point—are _The Indian + Philosopher_, by Isaac Watts, and the fragment of an eclogue called + _An Indian Ode_, by William King. Cf. Chalmers’s _English Poets_. + London, 1810, Vol. XIII., p. 63, and Vol. IX., p. 302. + +Footnote 56: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 70, p. 288. + +Footnote 57: + +Cf. Sophocles, _Trachiniæ_ (Death of Hercules). + +Footnote 58: + +Cf. _Iliad_, XXII (Death of Hector). + +Footnote 59: + +In English, 1786; in French, 1787. It had been written between January, + 1782, and January, 1783, in French, by Beckford. Cf. App. B, I., No. + 73 (_a_), p. 288; and _Vathek_, edited by Richard Garnett. London, + 1893, Introduction. + +Footnote 60: + +Garnett, _op. cit._, Introduction, p. xxvii. + +Footnote 61: + +Cf. Lady Burton’s version of Sir Richard Burton’s _Arabian Nights_, + edited by J. H. McCarthy (London, 1886), n., p. 11, which, following + the _Koran_ and the _Talmud_, calls Iblis (Eblis) a rebellious angel + who refused to worship Adam, caused Adam and Eve to lose Paradise, and + still betrays mankind. + +Cf. E. W. Lane, _Arabian Society in the Middle Ages, Studies in the + Arabian Nights_, edited by S. Lane-Poole, London, 1883, who, on p. 32, + says, “Iblees is represented as saying, ‘Thou hast created _me_ of + _fire_ and hast created _him_ [Adam] of _earth_.’ Kur. VII. and + XXXVIII., 77.” + +Footnote 62: + +Cf. App. A., pp. 258, 259. + +Footnote 63: + +Cf. pp. 251, 252, _post_. + +Footnote 64: + +Cf. also the two voices overheard by Nouronihar with _The Ancient + Mariner_ and Tennyson, _The Two Voices_. + +Footnote 65: + +Beckford also wrote a short oriental tale, _Al Raoui_, nominally + “translated from the Arabic” but probably composed by Beckford, 1783, + and first printed 1799. It is a fanciful and rather pleasing romantic + tale and may be found in Cyrus Redding, _Memoirs of William Beckford_. + London, 1859, Vol. I., pp. 213–226. + +Footnote 66: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 93, pp. 292, 293. + +Footnote 67: + +Based on a story in Lyttelton’s _Persian Letters_. Cf. pp. 180, n. 1, + and 185, _post_. Goldsmith may have drawn directly from Lyttelton, or + from this more recent (1750?) version. Cf. also App. B, I., No. 41, p. + 281. + +Footnote 68: + +Marmontel, J. F., _Memoirs_ (Boston, 1878). Introductory essay by W. D. + Howells, p. 25. + +Footnote 69: + +Preface to _Contes Moraux_ in _Œuvres_, Paris, 1818, Vol. III., p. xiv. + +Footnote 70: + +_Rambler_, No. 65. + +Footnote 71: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 54 (_c_), p. 285. + +Footnote 72: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 54 (_b_), pp. 284, 285. + +Footnote 73: + +Hugh Kelly’s _The Romance of an Hour, an afterpiece in two acts_, was + performed first, 1774. Two editions were printed. The plot was + borrowed from Marmontel’s tale, _L’Amitié à l’Epreuve_. [Gordon + Goodwin in _Dictionary of National Biography_, article “Hugh Kelly”.] + +Footnote 74: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 18, p. 274. + +Footnote 75: + +_Spence’s Anecdotes, Observations, and Characters of Books and Men, a + Selection_, edited by John Underhill. London [n. d.], p. 168. + +Footnote 76: + +_La littérature française au moyen âge._ Paris, 1905, p. 242. + +Footnote 77: + +_Voltaire’s Roman Zadig ou la Destinée, Eine Quellen-forschung ..._ von + Wilhelm Seele ... Leipzig, Reudnitz, 1891. Cf. also G. A. Aitken’s + Introduction to _Parnell’s Poems_, Aldine Edition. London, 1894, and + Rev. John Mitford’s _Life of Parnell_ (p. 61 n.), prefixed to _The + Poetical Works of Thomas Parnell_. London, 1852. + +Footnote 78: + +_Guardian_, No. 162. + +Footnote 79: + +_Ibid._, No. 148, cf. pp. 27, 28, _ante_. + +Footnote 80: + +_Spectator_, No. 535. + +Footnote 81: + +_Freeholder_, No. 17. + +Footnote 82: + +_Guardian_, No. 99. Cf. _The Persian Moonshee_, Pt. II., Story 5, + translated by Francis Gladwin, Calcutta and London, 1801, p. 3. + +Footnote 83: + +_Guardian_, No. 167. + +Footnote 84: + +_Spectator_, Nos. 584, 585. + +Footnote 85: + +Cf. _Romeo and Juliet_. + +Footnote 86: + +_Spectator_, No. 583. + +Footnote 87: + +Chap. III. + +Footnote 88: + +In the satirical group Marana and Brown precede Addison. The great + essayist assisted in directing the tendency, and was the first notable + English writer to popularize it. Cf. Chap. IV. + +Footnote 89: + +Dedicated to Raphael Courtevile, Esq. In the passage quoted the author’s + spelling is preserved. + +Footnote 90: + +Quoted in the translation of 1759. + +Footnote 91: + +Only in so far as the moralistic tales composed by Addison and Johnson + are concerned. Those referred to, pp. 80–81, _ante_, as adapted by + Addison, possess intrinsic value. + +Footnote 92: + +Leslie Stephen, _Hours in a Library. Second Series._ London, 1876, p. + 211. + +Footnote 93: + +Cf. p. 93, _post_. + +Footnote 94: + +Cf. p. 83, _ante_. + +Footnote 95: + +Courtenay, _Verses on the Moral and Literary Character of Dr. Johnson_, + quoted by Boswell; _Life of Johnson_, edited by G. B. Hill. Oxford, + 1887, Vol. I., p. 223. + +Footnote 96: + +The _Story of Nouraddin and Amana, Adventurer_, No. 72 (1753). This was + one of the stories translated into French and published in _Le Mercure + de France_. The French title was _Les Souhaits Punis, Conte Oriental_; + date, August, 1760. + +Footnote 97: + +_Adventurer_, No. 132. + +Footnote 98: + +_Ibid._, Nos. 7 and 8. + +Footnote 99: + +Contrast the later oriental tales translated about the close of this + period, _e.g._ the _Persian Tales of Inatulla_, which is exceedingly + flowery in language. For full title, cf. App. B, II., No. 36, p. 301. + +Footnote 100: + +_Citizen of the World_, Letter XXXIII. Cf. Chap. IV. + +Footnote 101: + +_Rambler_, No. 65. + +Footnote 102: + +_Ibid._, No. 38. + +Footnote 103: + +_Adventurer_, Nos. 20, 21, 22. + +Footnote 104: + +_Adventurer_, No. 5. + +Footnote 105: + +_Adventurer_, No. 132. + +Footnote 106: + +_The Fair Circassian, a Tragedy_, by Samuel J. Pratt, second edition, + London, 1781; third edition, same year, was based on _Almoran and + Hamet_. Cf. _Preface_, third edition. This must not be confused with + _The Fair Circassian, a dramatic performance by a gentleman-commoner + of Oxford [Samuel Croxall].... Taken from the Song of Solomon_, 1755. + +Footnote 107: + +Cf. p. 123, _post_. + +Footnote 108: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 52, p. 284. + +Footnote 109: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 57, p. 285. + +Footnote 110: + +In _Popular Tales_. Cf. App. B, I., No. 92, p. 292. + +Footnote 111: + +_Popular Tales_, by Miss Edgeworth. Philadelphia and New York, 1849, pp. + 67, 68. + +Footnote 112: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 53, p. 284. + +Footnote 113: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 46, p. 282. + +Footnote 114: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 62, p. 286. + +Footnote 115: + +Published anonymously; written by Ellis Cornelia Knight, “lady companion + to the Princess Charlotte of Wales,” and reaching its fourth edition + by 1800. Cf. App. B, I., No. 79, p. 290. On _Rasselas_, cf. Chap. + III., _post_. + +Footnote 116: + +_Introduction to Dinarbas._ + +Footnote 117: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 10, p. 271. + +Footnote 118: + +Bound in with _The History of Abdalla and Zoraide, or Filial and + Paternal Love_. London, 1750. Cf. p. 71, _ante_, and App. B, I., No. + 41, p. 281. + +Footnote 119: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 66, p. 287. + +Footnote 120: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 63 (a), p. 286. + +Footnote 121: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 86, p. 291, and _Amorassan_, p. 71, _ante_. + +Footnote 122: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 90, p. 292. + +Footnote 123: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 74, p. 289. + +Footnote 124: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 87, p. 291. + +Footnote 125: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 58 (_b_), pp. 285, 286. + +Footnote 126: + +Cf. p. 204 _et seq._, _post_. + +Footnote 127: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 77, p. 289. + +Footnote 128: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 78, p. 290. + +Footnote 129: + +“Yet for the real student, these secondary writers [_e.g._ + Marmontel] ... have, as they had for Sainte-Beuve, a peculiar + interest. We see the movement, the drift, the line, in them more + clearly than in their betters, precisely because it is less mingled + with and distorted by any intense personal idiosyncrasy. They are not + distractingly great nor distracted by their own greatness; they are + clear if limited, comprehensible from beginning to end. The man of + genius, being never merely, is never quite, of his time, the man of + talent is.” Professor Saintsbury’s _Introduction_ to Marmontel’s + _Moral Tales...._ London, 1895, p. xiv. + +Footnote 130: + +_Spectator_, No. 159. + +Footnote 131: + +One is reminded also of the Anglo-Saxon story of the sparrow flying + through the lighted hall from darkness to darkness again, as a type of + human life; and of the inscription on the Taj Mahal: “This world is + only a bridge; therefore cross over it, but build not upon it. The + future is veiled in darkness, and one short hour alone is given thee. + Turn every moment into prayer if thou wouldst attain unto Heaven.” + +Footnote 132: + +_Spectator_, No. 289. + +Footnote 133: + +_Spectator_, No. 289; attributed by Addison to the travels of Sir John + Chardin. + +Footnote 134: + +_Spectator_, No. 94. + +Footnote 135: + +_Spectator_, No. 578. + +Footnote 136: + +_Spectator_, No. 191. + +Footnote 137: + +_Spectator_, No. 604. + +Footnote 138: + +_Guardian_, No. 61 (Pope). The story is probably _The Life of Hai Ebn + Yokdhan_, cf. p. 126 _et seq._, _post_. Pope also quotes the tale of + the Traveler and the Adder, which he calls “one of the Persian fables + of Pilpay.” + +Footnote 139: + +_Spectator_, No. 343. At the opening of this essay Addison makes Will + Honeycomb quote Sir Paul Rycaut’s account of Mahometan beliefs, + including transmigration. The story of Pug’s adventures resembles that + of the transmigrations of Fum-Hoam (_Chinese Tales_, cf. Chap. I., + _ante_). The idea of metempsychosis was a favourite one in the early + eighteenth century, witness Fielding’s _Journey from this World to the + Next_. + +Footnote 140: + +p. 89. + +Footnote 141: + +_Idler_, No. 99. + +Footnote 142: + +_Life of Johnson_, edited by G. B. Hill. Oxford, 1887, Vol. I., p. 215. + +Footnote 143: + +_Rambler_, No. 190. + +Footnote 144: + +_Rambler_, Nos. 204, 205. + +Footnote 145: + +In a _Voyage to Abyssinia_, by Lobo, a Portuguese Jesuit, which Johnson + translated, 1735, from a French version, mention is made, Chap. X., of + Sultan Segued, Emperor of Abyssinia, “the much-talked-of lake of + Dambia,” and the bridge built across the Nile by Sultan Segued. + Neither in the edition of _Rasselas_ by G. B. Hill nor in that by + James Macaulay is the resemblance between _Seged_ and _Rasselas_ + noted. + +Footnote 146: + +_Idler_, No. 75. + +Footnote 147: + +_Idler_, No. 101. + +Footnote 148: + +_Adventurer_, No. 114. + +Footnote 149: + +Published in _Essays by Dr. Goldsmith_, 1765 (N.B., the Preface says: + “The following essays have already appeared at different times and in + different publications”); to be found in _The Bee and other Essays by + Oliver Goldsmith...._ London and Philadelphia, 1893, p. 187. + +Footnote 150: + +_The Bonze, or Chinese Anchorite, an Oriental Epic Novel. Translated + from the Mandarine language of_ _Hoamchi-vam, a Tartarian Proselite, + by Mons. D’Alenzon, Dedicated to Lord Kilwarling Son and Heir of the + Earl of Hillsborough, Secretary of State for the Northern Colonies. + With Adventurous wing exploring new found Worlds, the Orient Muse + unfettered with Rhyme who Sings of Heaven, of Earth, and Wondrous + mutations; Strives to Mingle instruction with delight, in hope to gain + the smile of Approbation._ Two vols. London, 1769. + +Footnote 151: + +The original spelling is preserved in the quotations given from this + work. Cf. App. B, I., No. 8, p. 270. + +Footnote 152: + +p. 57, edition of 1708. + +Footnote 153: + +pp. 114–139, same edition. + +Footnote 154: + +Cf. the dancing dervishes. + +Footnote 155: + +Dr. Edward Pococke (1604–1691) wrote a preface to a Latin translation of + _Hai Ebn Yockdhan_, published, Oxford, 1671, by his son Edward Pococke + (1648–1727). + +Footnote 156: + +_Zadig, or the Book of Fate, an Oriental History translated from the + French original of Mr. Voltaire._ London ... 1749. Several other + editions appeared later in the century, and one chapter, _The Hermit_, + separately, _e.g._ 1779. Cf. App. B, I., No. 39 (_a_), p. 279; and No. + 39 (_j_), pp. 280, 281. + +Footnote 157: + +Cf. pp. 77–79, _ante_. Parnell’s poem was one of the sources, not the + only source, of Voltaire’s chapter. + +Footnote 158: + +In French, 1747, 1748; in English, 1749. + +Footnote 159: + +Cf. Chap. IV., p. 155 _et seq._, _post_. + +Footnote 160: + +Cf. Lessing: _Nathan der Weise_ (apologue of the three rings). + +Footnote 161: + +Cf. W. Seele, _op. cit._, p. 77, n. 4, _ante_, in which, on p. 64, + reference is made to the high estimation by Gaston Paris, of _Zadig_ + as the most beautiful of Voltaire’s romances, and of the “Hermit” as + the best chapter in _Zadig_. + +Footnote 162: + +Cf. “On a Passage in Homer” under “Ancients and Moderns” in Voltaire’s + _Philosophical Dictionary_, tr. by W. F. Fleming, Vol. I., Paris, + London, New York, Chicago, 1901. + +Footnote 163: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 39 (_b_), p. 279. + +Footnote 164: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 39 (_f_), p. 280. + +Footnote 165: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 40, p. 281. + +Footnote 166: + +First French edition, _Candide ou l’optimisme_, ... 1759; first English + edition, same year. + +Footnote 167: + +_Rasselas_ was written soon after January 23, 1759, and published in + March or April of that year. Johnson was one of the first to observe + the similarity between the two books. “I have heard Johnson say, that + if they had not been published so closely one after the other that + there was not time for imitation, it would have been in vain to deny + that the scheme of that which came latest was taken from the other.” + Boswell, _Life of Johnson_, edited by G. B. Hill, Vol. I., p. 342. + Hill’s note, same page: “It should seem that _Candide_ was published + in the latter half of February, 1759 ... _Rasselas_ was written before + March 23; how much earlier cannot be known.” + +Footnote 168: + +Cf. G. B. Hill’s note, p. 165 of his edition of _Rasselas_, Oxford, + 1887: “Johnson is content with giving the artist a ducking. Voltaire + would have crippled him for life at the very least; most likely would + have killed him on the spot.” + +Footnote 169: + +For a sketch of this scene, cf. an essay on _Indifferentism_, by Bliss + Perry in the _Atlantic Monthly_, Vol. XCII., p. 329 _et seq._ + +Footnote 170: + +Boswell’s _Life of Johnson_, edited by G. B. Hill ... Oxford, 1887, Vol. + IV., p. 31. Cf. on “the Saxon _k_,” Thomas R. Lounsbury, _Confessions + of a Spelling Reformer, Atlantic Monthly_, May, 1907 (Vol. XCIX.), p. + 627: “The Saxon _k_ was the lexicographer’s personal contribution to + the original English alphabet.” + +Footnote 171: + +Cf. P. Martino, _op. cit._, p. 284. + +Footnote 172: + +Cf. T. Brown, _Amusements_, p. 163, _post_. P. Martino, _op. cit._ (p. + 288, n. 3), gives 1705 as the date of the first edition of _Dufresny_. + But D. Jouaust, in his _Avertissement to Entretiens ou Amusements + sérieux et comiques par Rivière-Dufresny_, Paris, 1869, affirms that + this work, whence “Montesquieu a pris l’idée de son immortelle + satire,” appeared “pour la première fois en 1699,” and was reprinted. + Pétit de Julleville: _Histoire de la langue et de la littérature + française des origines à 1900_, Paris, 1898, Tome V., ... p. 596, also + gives 1699 as the date of Dufresny’s work. + +Footnote 173: + +Cf. P. Martino, _op. cit._, p. 299. + +Footnote 174: + +Cf. _The Story of Tquassaouw_, p. 173, _post_. + +Footnote 175: + +The “Characters” (character-sketches) of the seventeenth century, both + in France and in England, undoubtedly contributed to the + pseudo-letters, and _vice versa_. Cf. _e.g._ pp. 183 and 239, n. 1, + _post_. + +Footnote 176: + +This English version has been ascribed to Sir Roger Manley by his + daughter, Mrs. Manley; but it is now “practically certain ... that the + first volume of the _Letters_ was composed, not by Manley, but by + Marana; and it is at least very probable that the Italian was the + author of the remainder of the work.” J. M. Rigg in the _Dictionary of + National Biography_, article “Robert Midgley” (1653–1723). For title + of this English version, cf. App. B, I., No. 1, p. 267. + +Footnote 177: + +_Letter_ VIII. _The Eight Volumes of Letters Writ by a Turkish Spy ... + translated ... into English...._ London ... 1748, Vol. I. Quotations + are from this edition, and are given in the original spelling, etc. + +Footnote 178: + +J. M. Rigg, in the _Dictionary of National Biography_, article on + “Robert Midgley” (1653–1723). The date, 1723, for Montesquieu’s + _Lettres Persanes_ should read 1721. Mr. Rigg cites several volumes of + _Notes and Queries_; but does not give _Notes and Queries_, 4th + Series, VIII., November, 1871, p. 415, in which Arthur Bateman writes: + “Who but remembers Elia’s account of the first discovery of roast + pig?... In the _Turkish Spy_ (Vol. IV., book 1, letter 5) I read as + follows: ‘The historians say that the first inhabitants of the earth, + for above two thousand years, lived altogether on the vegetable + products, of which they offered the first fruits to God—it being + esteemed an inexpiable wickedness to shed the blood of any animal, + though it were in sacrifice, much more to eat of their flesh. To this + end they relate the first slaughter of a bull to have been made at + Athens ... and the bull being flea’d [_sic_], and fire laid on the + altar, they all assisted at the new sacrifice.... In process of time a + certain priest, in the midst of his bloody sacrifice, taking up a + piece of the broiled flesh which had fallen from the altar on the + ground, and burning his fingers therewith, suddenly clapped them to + his mouth to mitigate the pain. But when he had once tasted the + sweetness of the fat, he not only longed for more of it, but gave a + piece to his assistant, and he to others, who, all pleased with the + new found dainties, fell to eating of flesh greedily; and hence this + species of gluttony was taught to other mortals.’” + +Footnote 179: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 2, pp. 267, 268. + +Footnote 180: + +Quotations, in which the original spelling and capitalization are + preserved, are taken from _The Third Volume of the Works of Mr. Thomas + Brown_ ... _The Third Edition_ ... _London_ ... 1715 (?). + +Footnote 181: + +Cf. p. 166, note 1, _post_. + +Footnote 182: + +The above quotation, in which the original spelling, etc., are + preserved, is from _Entretiens ou Amusements sérieux et comiques par + Rivière-Dufresny_, D. Jouaust, Paris, 1869. + +Footnote 183: + +Frequent coarseness of expression precludes quotation of the entire + passage. + +Footnote 184: + +George Saintsbury, _A Short History of English Literature_. New York, + London, 1905, p. 526: “The great essayist who immediately followed him + [_i.e._ Brown], owed more to him than might be imagined, and in not a + little of his work, especially in his _Amusements, Serious and + Comical_, which attempt an early ‘London from day to day,’ there is a + vividness of manners which anticipates the best of the later + novelists.” + +Footnote 185: + +No. 557. + +Footnote 186: + +_Spectator_, No. 545. + +Footnote 187: + +_Spectator_, No. 343. + +Footnote 188: + +_Ibid_, No. 511. + +Footnote 189: + +_Mirror_, No. 8. + +Footnote 190: + +p. 157, _ante_; and p. 230, _post_. + +Footnote 191: + +Cf. L. Dangeau, _Montesquieu, Bibliographie de ses œuvres_. Paris, 1874; + A. Sorel, _Montesquieu_ (In the Series, Great French Writers), tr. by + G. Masson ... London, 1887, p. 46. L. Vian, _Histoire de + Montesquieu...._ Paris, 1879, Chap. V. + +Footnote 192: + +Reprinted in _Persian Letters, by M. de Montesquieu, translated from the + French, in two volumes...._ The Sixth Edition ... Edinburgh, 1773. The + following quotations are from this edition. + +Footnote 193: + +Cf. John Gay’s poem, _The Quidnunkis_, in Chalmers, _English Poets_, + London, 1810, Vol. X., p. 503. + +Footnote 194: + +_Letters_ XI.–XIV. + +Footnote 195: + +_Letter_ LXVII. + +Footnote 196: + +_Letter_ CXLII. + +Footnote 197: + +_Letter_ CXLI. + +Footnote 198: + +_Letter_ CXLIII. + +Footnote 199: + +P. IV. of _Persian Letters_ cited, p. 175 n., _ante_. + +Footnote 200: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 28, p. 277. + +Footnote 201: + +_Abdalla and Zoraide, or Filial and Paternal Love_, carries the same + story to this point and ends with Abdalla’s expression of gratitude to + Selim. Cf. p. 72, _ante_. + +Footnote 202: + +_Letter_ XXII. Quotations are from the edition of 1774. + +Footnote 203: + +_Letter_ V. Cf. P. Martino, _op. cit._, p. 289, where reference is made + to a similar passage in Dufresny’s _Amusements_. + +Footnote 204: + +_Letter_ LXVII. The words underlined are found in the parallel passage + in Goldsmith. Other similarities are noticeable. + +Footnote 205: + +Cf. pp. 71 and 180, n. 1, _ante_; and 197, _post_. + +Footnote 206: + +_Letter_ VI. + +Footnote 207: + +_Letter_ XXXI. + +Footnote 208: + +Cf. in regard to Lyttelton (_a_) _The Persian strip’d of his + disguise ..._ Dublin, 1735, a small pamphlet of twenty-three pages + attacking Lyttelton’s “late libel intitled _Letters from a Persian in + England to his friend in Ispahan_.” + +(_b_) The _Persian Letters continued_, London, 1736, third edition, + “erroneously ascribed to Lord Lyttelton.” (_Dictionary of National + Biography_.) + +(_c_) Edward Moore’s poem in defense of Lord Lyttelton, _The Trial of + Selim the Persian for divers high crimes and misdemeanours_. + (Chalmers: _English Poets_, London, 1810, Vol. XIV., p. 202.) + +(_d_) _The Court Secret a Melancholy Truth, now first translated from + the original Arabic by an Adept in the Oriental Tongues_, London, + 1742, an anonymous work ascribed to Lord Lyttelton, but not included + in the third edition of his works. + +Footnote 209: + +_A Letter from Xo-Ho, a Chinese Philosopher at London, to his friend + Lien Chi at Peking_, in _Works_ of Horatio Walpole, Earl of Orford, + London, 1798, Vol. I., p. 205. + +Footnote 210: + +Cf. _The Citizen of the World_, edited by A. Dobson, 2 vols., London, + 1893. Introduction, pp. xi, xii. + +Footnote 211: + +The earliest use of the phrase “citizen of the world” in English is + believed to be in “England’s Path to Wealth and Honour,” by Puckle, + 1700. In that work is found “An honest man is a citizen of the world. + Gain equalizeth all places to me.” Cf. Socrates (Plutarch: _De + Exilio_, V.), “I am a citizen not of Athens or of Greece, but of the + world;” E. Edwards: _Words, Facts, and Phrases_, London, 1882, pp. + 117, 118; also Dante, “My country is the whole world,” _De vulg. + eloq._ lib. 1, cap. 6, quoted by Burckhardt: _Civilization of the + Renaissance ..._ tr. Middlemore ... 1904, pp. 132, 133, and note. + +Footnote 212: + +Cf. _Nouvelle Biographie Générale_ ... sous la Direction de M. le Dr. + Hoefer ... Paris, Firmin Didot Frères, Fils et Cie, Editeurs ... 1865, + Tome 35; article on “Monbron,” which mentions _Le Cosmopolite_, 1750, + and adds: “Il y a des exemplaires, avec la date de 1752, qui portent + le titre: ‘Le Citoyen du monde.’” E. H. Coleridge, _Works of Lord + Byron_, London, New York, 1901, Vol. II. (_Childe Harold_, + title-page), gives 1753 instead of 1752; and T. Moore, _Works of Lord + Byron_, London, 1832, Vol. VIII., gives 1798. + +Footnote 213: + +“L’univers est une espèce de livre, dont on n’a lu que la première page + quand on n’a vu que son pays. J’en ai feuilleté un assez grand nombre, + que j’ai trouvé également mauvaises. Cet examen ne m’a point été + infructueux. Je haïssais ma patrie. Toutes les impertinences de + peuples divers, parmi lesquels j’ai vécu, m’ont réconcilié avec elle. + Quand je n’aurais tiré d’autre bénéfice de mes voyages que celui-là, + je n’en regretterais ni les frais ni les fatigues.” + +Footnote 214: + +_Hau Kiou Chooan; or the pleasing History, a translation_ [by J. + Wilkinson] _from the Chinese ..._ [edited by T. Percy], London, 1761. + Cf. App. B, II., No. 28, pp. 299, 300. + +Footnote 215: + +Cf. _Letters from a Chinese Official, being an Eastern View of Western + Civilization_ by G. Lowes Dickinson. New York, McClure, Phillips & + Co., MCMIII. Mr. Dickinson’s book is an exceedingly interesting and + timely criticism of Western civilization, and an instance of the + vitality of the pseudo-letter genre, when the author has something to + say. Cf. Mr. William Jennings Bryan’s reply: _Letters to a Chinese + Official, being a Western View of Eastern Civilization_. New York, + McClure, Phillips & Co., MCMVI. + +Footnote 216: + +Quotations are from _The Citizen of the World, by Oliver Goldsmith_, + edited by Austin Dobson, London, 1893, 2 vols. + +Footnote 217: + +Cf. note on this _Letter_ in Dobson’s edition of _The Citizen of the + World_ (_op. cit._, p. 182, n.); W. Seele: _Voltaire’s Zadig_ (_op. + cit._, p. 128); and K. Campbell: _The Seven Sages of Rome ..._ Boston, + 1907, Introduction, pp. ci-cviii, which gives seventy-six derivates + and analogues of the story known as _Vidua_, of which _The Matron of + Ephesus_ is the most famous version. + +Footnote 218: + +Possibly suggested by Addison’s tale, _Spectator_, No. 512. + +Footnote 219: + +Drawn from “the fables of Locman the Indian moralist.” + +Footnote 220: + +Cf. Sir William Chambers’s _Dissertation on Oriental Gardening_ ... + London, 1772; and Dobson’s edition (1893) of _The Citizen of the + World_, Vol. I., n. to p. 52, l. 4, in which the editor refers to _An + Heroic Epistle_ by William Mason, ridiculing Chambers’s + _Dissertation_. Cf. also the satire in verse, _Kien Long, a Chinese + Imperial eclogue translated from a curious Oriental manuscript and + inscribed to the author of An Heroic Epistle to Sir William Chambers_, + London, 1775. + +Footnote 221: + +Cf. pp. 71; 180 n. 1; 185; and 191, _ante_. + +Footnote 222: + +“Goldsmith remembered a quotation from Voltaire made by himself in _The + Monthly Review_ for August, 1757: ‘The success of the _Persian + Letters_ arose from the delicacy of their satire. That satire which, + in the mouth of an Asiatic, is poignant, would lose all its force when + coming from an European.’” Editor’s _Prefatory Note_ to _The Citizen + of the World_ in Vol. II., p. 86, _Works of Oliver Goldsmith_, edited + by Peter Cunningham, F.S.A., in four volumes, New York ... 1881. + +Footnote 223: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 31, p. 277. + +Footnote 224: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 38, p. 278. + +Footnote 225: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 5, pp. 269, 270. + +Footnote 226: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 25, p. 276. + +Footnote 227: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 37, p. 278. + +Footnote 228: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 58 (_a_), p. 285. + +Footnote 229: + +Cf. _The Works of Lord Byron ..._ edited ... by E. H. Coleridge, London, + New York, 1899, _Poetry_, Vol. II., p. 40, n.†. + +Footnote 230: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 5 (_c_), p. 270. + +Footnote 231: + +In _Novels and Miscellaneous Works of Daniel Defoe_, Oxford, London, + 1840, Vol. XII., pp. 101–135 and 154–181. + +Footnote 232: + +Cf. App. A, pp. 257, 258, _post_. Swift’s descriptive satirical poem, + _The Virtues of Sid Hamet the Magician’s Rod_, likewise uses oriental + disguise. + +Footnote 233: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 54 (a), p. 284. It became popular also in + dramatic form, _The Sultan or a Peep into the Seraglio, a Farce in + two Acts_, by Isaac Bickerstaffe, first acted 1775; printed, 1784, + 1786, 1787. Another of Marmontel’s works,—not a tale, but a + _comédie-ballet_,—called _Zemire et Azor_, formed the basis of a + popular comic opera, _Selima and Azor a Persian Tale_, with music + by Thomas Linley, Sr., London [1776]. It is a version of the story + of _Beauty and the Beast_. + +Footnote 234: + +Quoted in _Moral Tales by M. Marmontel. Translated from the French_ ... + New York, 1813, Vol. I. + +Footnote 235: + +Quotations that follow are from _Marmontel’s Moral Tales Selected_ ... + by George Saintsbury, London, 1895. + +Footnote 236: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 39, pp. 279, 281. + +Footnote 237: + +R. Cambridge’s poem, _The Fakeer, a Tale_, first published in 1756, is + admittedly based on Voltaire. Chambers, _English Poets_, London, 1810, + Vol. XVIII., p. 288. + +Footnote 238: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 36, p. 278. + +Footnote 239: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 32, pp. 277, 278. + +Footnote 240: + +Translated also as _May-Flower, a Circassian Tale_, second edition, + Salisbury ... London, 1796. Cf. App. B, I., No. 51, pp. 283, 284. + +Footnote 241: + +Quoted in _The Cabinet of Irish Literature ..._ by Charles A. Read.... + London, 1880, Vol. I., p. 94, n. 2. + +Footnote 242: + +_The Ram_, in _Select Tales_.... Translated from the French ... London, + 1760. + +Footnote 243: + +“Embrouiller.” + +Footnote 244: + +_The Four Facardins_, in _Select Tales_ ... translated from the French, + London, 1760. Cf. also M. G. Lewis: _Romantic Tales_, London, 1808. + +Footnote 245: + +Cf. App. B, I., No. 49 (_b_), p. 283. + +Footnote 246: + +_Connoisseur_, No. 135. Chalmers, _English Poets_, London, 1810, Vol. + XV., p. 81. + +Footnote 247: + +Warton, in _Adventurer_, No. 139. Cf. also _World_, Nos. 26, 38, 59, 65, + 205; _Rambler_, 82; _Adventurer_, 109; _Connoisseur_, 65, 73; + _Mirror_, 17; _Lounger_, 79; and Sir William Chambers’s _Designs of + Chinese Buildings, etc._, London, 1757. + +Footnote 248: + +Cf. (_a_) _The Blue Fairy Book ... edited with an Introduction by Andrew + Lang ..._ [Large Paper], London, 1889. Introduction: “Though published + in 1697, Perrault’s Contes de ma Mère l’Oye do not seem to have been + Englished till 1729. A version is advertised in a newspaper of that + year, but no copy exists in the British Museum.” + +(_b_) _English Fairy Tales, collected by Joseph Jacobs ..._ third + edition ... New York, 1898, p. 229. _Notes._ “In the middle of the + last century the genius of Charles Perrault captivated English and + Scotch children.... Cinderella and Puss-in-Boots ... ousted Childe + Rowland, and Mr. Fox and Catskin. The superior elegance and clearness + of the French tales replaced the rude vigour of the English ones. What + Perrault began, the Grimms completed. Tom Tit Tot gave way to + Rumpelstilzchen.... The English Fairy Tale became a _mélange confus_ + of Perrault and the Grimms.” + +(_c_) The Countess D’Aulnoy’s _Tales of the Fairies_ was translated in + 1707. + +Footnote 249: + +Cf. pp. 76, n. 2; 96, n. 1; and 204, n. 2, _ante_. Dramas based more or + less on oriental history appeared from time to time, _e.g._ Hughes’s + _Siege of Damascus_ (1720); D. Mallet’s _Mustapha_ (1739); Johnson’s + _Irene_ (1749); Hodson’s _Zoraida_ (1780); A. Dow’s _Zingis, a + Tragedy_, new edition (1773); and translations of Voltaire’s + _Mahomet_, _Zara_, and _Orphan of China_. Cf. Dr. Hoops, _Present + Problems_ (App. B, II., No. 33, p. 300). + +Footnote 250: + +_Works of A. Pope ..._ edited ... by ... Rev. W. L. Bowles, London, + 1806, Vol. VIII., pp. 110, 112. + +Footnote 251: + +_Citizen of the World ..._ edited by A. Dobson ... London, 1893, p. 121, + note to p. 141, l. 25: “Mr. Tibs (is) a different person, by the way, + from the inimitable little Beau.” + +Footnote 252: + +Shenstone’s _Poems_, in Chalmers, _English Poets ..._ London, 1810, Vol. + XIII., p. 272. + +Footnote 253: + +Dr. Johnson (_Rambler_, No. 122) commends Knolles’s _History of the + Turks_, but declares the subject foreign and uninteresting, a remote + and barbarous nation “of which none desire to be informed.” + +Footnote 254: + +_Persia, Past and Present ..._ by A. V. W. Jackson ... New York, 1906, + p. 226. Cf. also _The Power of Bible Poetry_, by J. H. Gardiner in + _Atlantic Monthly_, September, 1906 (Vol. XCVIII., pp. 384–394). + +Footnote 255: + +Cf. _The Literary Remains of John Evelyn ..._ edited ... by William + Upcott ... second edition ... London, 1834. On p. xiii Evelyn’s + _Tyrannus or the Mode_ (1661) is mentioned as a “very curious and rare + pamphlet to be found ... in the second volume of the Evelyn papers,” a + pamphlet in which the author argues for the superiority of the Persian + fashion of dress over the English. Charles II. adopted the costume for + a short while, probably as a result of Evelyn’s reasoning. On pp. + 141–167 is printed Evelyn’s _A Character of England as it was lately + presented in a letter to a nobleman of France_ (1651; third edition, + 1659), a satiric jeu d’esprit, in which the author assumes the guise + of a Frenchman and gives a “character” of England from the French + point of view. He concludes: “In summe, my Lord, I have found so many + particulars worthy of reproof ... that to render you a veritable + account of England as it is at present I must pronounce with the + poet,—_Difficile est satyram non scribere_.” + +Footnote 256: + +Cf. _Trajano Boccalini’s Einfluss auf die Englische Literatur_, by R. + Brotanek, in _Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen u. + Literaturen_, Vol. CXI. (n. s. XI.), 1903; cf. also _Spectator_, No. + 514, Steele’s _Vision of Parnassus_; Swift, _Journal to Stella_, + Saturday, April 28th, 1711; and others. + +Footnote 257: + +At the present writing there is no proof for, or against, a causal + relation; it is possible that Boccalini influenced Marana, but in the + absence of satisfactory evidence I do not wish to imply anything more + than an interesting and suggestive analogy. Cf. P. Toldo. _Dell’ + Espion di Giovanni Paolo Marana e delle sue attinenze con le Lettres + Persanes del Montesquieu_, in _Giornale Storico_, Vol. XXIX., pp. + 46–79; esp. 53; and Antonio Belloni, in Vol. VII. of _Storia + Litteraria d’Italia ... Il Seicento ..._ Milano, 1898–1899, p. 374. + +Footnote 258: + +Cf. W. Raleigh, _The English Novel ..._ New York, 1904. Fifth edition, + p. 120. + +Footnote 259: + +W. Raleigh, _op. cit._, p. 109. + +Footnote 260: + +_Works of A. Pope ..._ edited by Rev. W. L. Bowles, London, 1806, Vol. + VIII., pp. 110–112; Vol. IX., p. 372, n. + +Footnote 261: + +Spence, _op. cit._, on p. 77, n. 2; p. 169. “After reading the _Persian + Tales_ (and I had been reading Dryden’s _Fables_ just before them) I + had some thoughts of writing a Persian Fable; in which I should have + given full loose to description and imagination. It would have been a + very wild thing if I had executed it, but might not have been + unentertaining.” + +Footnote 262: + +During her husband’s embassy there, 1711–1718. _Letters and Works_ of + Lady Mary Wortley Montagu ... new edition, 2 vols., London, 1887. The + date of the first edition of _Turkish Letters_ was 1763. + +Footnote 263: + +_Swift’s Journal to Stella._ A.D. _1710–1713_, edited ... by F. Ryland, + London, 1897, p. 327. _Letter_ XL., January 26, 1711–1712. + +Footnote 264: + +Cf. numerous references in _Oliver Goldsmith ..._ by W. Irving. Hudson + edition ... New York, 1864. + +Footnote 265: + +_Works of Sir William Temple, Bart._, Vol. III., London, 1757, pp. + 304–393; _Of heroic Virtue_, pp. 430–472. _An essay upon Ancient and + Modern Learning._ + +Footnote 266: + +To this list other names might be added, _e.g._ that of Clara Reeve, + author of _The Old English Baron_ and editor of _Charoba_. + +Footnote 267: + +Cf. App. A, pp. 258, 259, Byron. + +Footnote 268: + +Cf. _Source of the Hall of Eblis by B. Cornwall_, by H. Jantzen, _Archiv + für das Studium der neueren Sprachen u. Literaturen ..._ Vol. CVIII. + (n. s. VIII.), 1902, p. 318 _et seq._ + +Footnote 269: + +Cf. Chap. I., pp. 36–38. + +Footnote 270: + +Cf. Chap. I., p. 27. + +Footnote 271: + +Cf. App. A, pp. 259–262, Swift; 262, 263, Smollett; 263, Southey and + Thomson. + +Footnote 272: + +Cf. on the “goodness” of Haroun Alraschid, J. Payne: _The Book of the + Thousand Nights and One Night_, in nine volumes ... London, 1884, Vol. + IX. _Concluding Essay._ + +Footnote 273: + +Cf. App. A, pp. 263–265, Wordsworth; 265, Scott; 265, 266, Dickens; 266, + Thackeray. + +Footnote 274: + +V. Chauvin, _Bibliographie des ouvrages arabes_, Vol. VI., § 286 n., + “Pari Banou.” In _Waverley_, Chap. V., Scott refers to Prince + Hussain’s tapestry and Malek’s flying sentry-box. The subtitle of _The + Betrothed_ is _A Tale of the Crusaders_, but the story is in no + respects oriental. + +Footnote 275: + +_The Collected Writings of Thomas De Quincey ..._ edited by David + Masson, Edinburgh, 1889, Vol. I., pp. 127–130. Cf. _Revue des deux + Mondes_, 1896, Vol. 138, pp. 121, 122. + +Footnote 276: + +Cf. V. Chauvin, _op. cit._, Vol. VI., for influence of Arabian tales on + European writers. Of course nineteenth-century authors were influenced + also by versions of the _Arabian Nights_ later than those of the + period under discussion, _e.g._ those of J. Scott, Burton, Lane, + Payne, etc. + +Footnote 277: + +On one aspect of the duality in Dr. Johnson’s nature, cf. _The Prayers + of Dr. Johnson_, edited by W. A. Bradley, New York, 1902, pp. 84, 85. + +Footnote 278: + +I am informed by Professor Charles C. Torrey of Yale University, that + this legend, of the duel between Moses and “Auj” (Og, King of Bashan), + is found in the oldest Arabic history of Egypt, written about the + middle of the ninth century A.D. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + Studies in Comparative Literature + + + A HISTORY OF LITERARY CRITICISM IN THE RENAISSANCE + + _With Special Reference to the Influence of Italy in the Formation and + Development of Modern Classicism_ + + By JOEL ELIAS SPINGARN + + Cloth, 12mo pp. xi + 330 $1.50, _net_ + + + ROMANCES OF ROGUERY + + _An Episode in the History of the Novel_ + + By FRANK WADLEIGH CHANDLER + + In Two Parts.—Part I.: “The Picaresque Novel in Spain.” + + Cloth, 12mo pp. ix + 483 $2.00, _net_ + + + SPANISH LITERATURE IN THE ENGLAND OF THE TUDORS + + By JOHN GARRETT UNDERHILL + + Cloth, 12mo pp. x + 438 $2.00, _net_ + + + THE CLASSICAL HERITAGE OF THE MIDDLE AGES + + By HENRY OSBORN TAYLOR + + _Sometime Lecturer in Literature at Columbia University Author of + “Ancient Ideals”_ + + Cloth, 12mo pp. xvi + 400 $1.75, _net_ + + + THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE IN ENGLAND + + By LEWIS EINSTEIN + + Illustrated Cloth, 12mo pp. xvii + 420 $1.50, _net_ + + + Platonism in English Poetry of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries + + By JOHN SMITH HARRISON + + Cloth, 12mo pp. xi + 235 $2.00, _net_ + + + Irish Life in Irish Fiction + + By HORATIO SHEAFE KRANS + + Cloth, 12mo pp. vii + 338 $1.50, _net_ + + + The English Heroic Play + + By LEWIS NATHANIEL CHASE + + Cloth, 12mo pp. xii + 250 $2.00, _net_ + + The Oriental Tale in England + + By MARTHA PIKE CONANT + +⁂ Other numbers of this series will be issued from time to time, +containing the results of literary research or criticism by the students +or officers of Columbia University, or others associated with them in +study, under the authorization of the Department of Comparative +Literature. + + + THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, Agents + 66 Fifth Avenue, New York + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + Page Changed from Changed to + + 295 dalla Persiana nell’ Italiana dalla Persiana nell’ Italiana + lingua trapportato lingua trasportato + + ● Typos fixed; 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} + </style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77806 ***</div> + +<div class='tnotes covernote'> + +<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> + +<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +</div> + +<div class='chapter ph1'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div><span class='blackletter'><span class='xlarge'>Columbia University</span></span></div> + <div class='c002'><span class='large'><i>STUDIES IN COMPARATIVE LITERATURE</i></span></div> + <div class='c003'>THE ORIENTAL TALE IN ENGLAND</div> + <div class='c002'><span class='large'>IN THE</span></div> + <div class='c002'>EIGHTEENTH CENTURY</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<p class='c004'>This monograph has been recommended by the +Department of Comparative Literature as a contribution +to the literature of the subject worthy of +publication.</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>J. B. FLETCHER,</div> + <div><i>Professor of Comparative Literature</i>.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='titlepage'> + +<div> + <h1 class='c005'><span class='xlarge'>THE</span><br> ORIENTAL TALE IN ENGLAND<br> <span class='small'>IN THE</span><br> EIGHTEENTH CENTURY</h1> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c003'> + <div><span class='small'>BY</span></div> + <div class='c002'><span class='large'>MARTHA PIKE CONANT, <span class='sc'>Ph.D.</span></span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i_title.jpg' alt='Crowned emblem showing an open book beneath a crown; the left page reads “1754 Columbia 1839,” the right page reads “University Press,” with a scroll below bearing a Latin motto.' class='ig001'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><span class='blackletter'>New York</span></div> + <div>THE COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS</div> + <div>1908</div> + <div class='c002'><span class='small'><i>All rights reserved</i></span></div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c003'> + <div><span class='small'><span class='sc'>Copyright, 1908,</span></span></div> + <div><span class='small'><span class='sc'>By</span> THE COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS.</span></div> + <div class='c002'><span class='small'>Set up and electrotyped. Published January, 1908.</span></div> + <div class='c003'><span class='small'>Norwood Press</span></div> + <div><span class='small'>J. S. Cushing Co.—Berwick & Smith Co.</span></div> + <div><span class='small'>Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c003'> + <div><span class='blackletter'>To</span></div> + <div class='c002'>MY SISTER</div> + <div class='c002'>CHARLOTTE HOWARD CONANT</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_vii'>vii</span> + <h2 class='c006'>PREFACE</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>This essay is a study in eighteenth-century +English literature. The author disclaims any +knowledge of the oriental languages and attempts +no discussion of the ultimate sources of those +genuine oriental tales that appeared in English +in the eighteenth century. Such a discussion +is not the purpose of this study. The aim here +is rather to give a clear and accurate description +of a distinct component part of eighteenth-century +English fiction in its relation to its +French sources and to the general current of +English thought. The oriental fiction that was +not original in English came, almost without +exception, from French imitations or translations +of genuine oriental tales; hence, as a study +in comparative literature, a consideration of the +oriental tale in England during the eighteenth +century possesses distinct interest. Moreover the +presence of this oriental and pseudo-oriental fiction +in England,—as in France,—and the mingled +enthusiasm and disapproval with which in both +countries it was greeted, testify to the strength +of established classicism and to the advent of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_viii'>viii</span>the new romantic spirit. The history of the +oriental tale in England in the eighteenth century +might be called an episode in the development +of English Romanticism.</p> + +<p class='c007'>No general survey such as the present volume +undertakes, has before been made. Certain +chapters in <cite><span lang="de">Die Vorläufer der Modernen Novelle +im 18ten Jahrhundert</span></cite> (1897), by Dr. Rudolph +Fürst, approach most nearly to the present treatment +and have given valuable suggestions; +H. W. Weber’s <cite>Introduction</cite> to his <cite>Tales of the +East</cite> (1812) contains useful data; M. Pierre +Martino’s work, <cite><span lang="fr">L’Orient dans la littérature +française au XVII<sup>e</sup> et au XVIII<sup>e</sup> siècle</span></cite> (1906), +came to hand after this essay was practically +completed, but has proved of distinct value; +and M. Victor Chauvin’s monumental <cite><span lang="fr">Bibliographie +des ouvrages arabes</span></cite> (1892–1905) is indispensable +to any student of this subject. The +<cite>Bibliography, Appendix B, II.</cite>, pp. 294–306, of +this volume gives the full titles of these and +other books of reference to which I am indebted. +None of these, however, gives anything except +incidental or partial treatment of this subject. +No attempt has hitherto been made to consider +in a single survey all the oriental and pseudo-oriental +fiction that appeared in England during +the eighteenth century.</p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_ix'>ix</span>It is a pleasure to take this opportunity of +thanking the many friends whose assistance +I have found invaluable. This book is the fruit +of studies begun under the inspiration of Professor +George Edward Woodberry,—an inspiration +best appreciated by those students who had +the rare privilege of hearing his lectures and +receiving his illuminating and kindly criticism. +To Dr. Frank W. Chandler, Professor of English +in the Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute and formerly +Instructor in Comparative Literature in +Columbia University, I owe my first definite +interest in the English Romantic Movement. +To Dr. J. E. Spingarn, Adjunct-Professor of +Comparative Literature, I am deeply indebted +for friendly criticisms and counsel. To Professor +Jefferson B. Fletcher, of the Department of +Comparative Literature, I am especially grateful +for constant assistance during the past year—assistance +as generous as it was helpful; +without it I could hardly have brought my work +to completion. To many of my fellow-students +at Columbia University I am under obligations: +to Miss Mary Gertrude Cushing, now of the +Department of Romance Languages and Literatures +at Mount Holyoke College, for transcriptions +made at the Bibliothèque Nationale, +Paris; to Mr. A. D. Compton, Instructor in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_x'>x</span>English in the College of the City of New York, +for notes on certain oriental tales; to Dr. John +S. Harrison, of the English Department of Kenyon +College, for assistance in research; to Mr. +S. L. Wolff, Adjunct-Professor of English in the +University of Tennessee, for a study of oriental +allusions in the eighteenth-century periodicals; +to Mr. Wolff and to Dr. S. M. Tucker, Professor +of English in the Florida State College for +Women, for valuable suggestions. I would +acknowledge also the courtesies extended by the +Librarians of the British Museum, by Mr. T. +J. Kiernan of the Harvard University Library, +and by the authorities of the Columbia University +Library, especially Mr. Frederic W. Erb. +For assistance in research at the British Museum +I would thank my sister, Charlotte H. Conant; +for similar work at Harvard and in the Boston +Libraries, Miss Mary H. Buckingham. Miss +Buckingham enriched my initial bibliography +by examining the entire <cite>Catalogue of Printed +Books</cite> of the British Museum. Finally, to Dr. +Duncan B. Macdonald and Dr. Edward Everett +Hale I wish to express my appreciation of their +kindness in lending me valuable books.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The Appendices to the present volume comprise +<i>Appendix A, Notes</i>, chiefly concerning the +indebtedness of Byron and others to the oriental +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xi'>xi</span>tales; and <i>Appendix B, I.</i>, a <i>Chronological Table</i>, +giving full titles of the oriental tales considered, +and <i>II.</i>, a <i>Bibliography</i> of the books of reference +most useful in a study of this subject. Each +book in <i>Appendix B, I.</i> and <i>II.</i>, is numbered, +and will be referred to in footnotes by number +when it is unnecessary to cite the full title; +<i>e.g.</i> in the footnote on p. 2, “Cf. App. B, I., No. 4, +p. 269,” reference is made to the full title of the +earliest known edition of the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, +as given on p. 269. The date following the first +mention of an oriental tale is, unless otherwise +specified, the date of the first English edition, +<i>e.g.</i> on p. 13, “1714” following “the <cite>Persian +Tales</cite> or the <cite>Thousand and One Days</cite>.” Complete +lists of the oriental tales by the eighteenth-century +essayists will be found in App. B, I., +<i>e.g.</i> No. 11, pp. 271, 272, <cite>Addison</cite>. Unknown +essayists are grouped, <i>e.g.</i> No. 12, p. 272.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>M. P. C.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-l'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Columbia University</span>,</div> + <div class='line in4'>June, 1907.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_xiii'>xiii</span> + <h2 class='c006'>CONTENTS</h2> +</div> + +<table class='table0'> + <tr> + <th class='c008'></th> + <th class='c009'>PAGE</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>Introduction</span></td> + <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_xv'>xv</a></td> + </tr> + <tr><td class='c010' colspan='2'>CHAPTER I</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>The Imaginative Group</span></td> + <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr><td class='c010' colspan='2'>CHAPTER II</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>The Moralistic Group</span></td> + <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_73'>73</a></td> + </tr> + <tr><td class='c010' colspan='2'>CHAPTER III</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>The Philosophic Group</span></td> + <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_112'>112</a></td> + </tr> + <tr><td class='c010' colspan='2'>CHAPTER IV</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>The Satiric Group</span></td> + <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_155'>155</a></td> + </tr> + <tr><td class='c010' colspan='2'>CHAPTER V</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>Literary Estimate</span></td> + <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_226'>226</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>Appendix A. Notes</span></td> + <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_257'>257</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>Appendix B. I. Chronological Table</span></td> + <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_267'>267</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>Appendix B. II. Books of Reference</span></td> + <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_294'>294</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>Index</span></td> + <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_307'>307</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_xv'>xv</span> + <h2 class='c006'>INTRODUCTION</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>In a study of the oriental tale in England in +the eighteenth century, the high lights fall upon +the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, Dr. Johnson’s <cite>Rasselas</cite>, +Goldsmith’s <cite>Citizen of the World</cite>, and Beckford’s +<cite>Vathek</cite>. The present volume aims to depict +clearly the interesting orientalizing tendency of +which these apparently isolated works were the +best manifestations—a tendency itself a part of +the larger movement of English Romanticism. +By “the oriental tale in England” I mean all +the oriental and pseudo-oriental fiction—chiefly +prose—that appeared in English, whether written +originally in English or translated from the +French. Much of the fiction I shall consider +deserves distinctly to be called pseudo-oriental, +<cite>Rasselas</cite>, for instance, and <cite>The Citizen of the +World</cite>; on the other hand, much of it, such as +the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> and kindred literature, is +genuinely oriental despite its eighteenth-century +dress. By “oriental” I mean pertaining to or +derived from “those countries, collectively, that +begin with Islam on the eastern Mediterranean +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xvi'>xvi</span>and stretch through Asia,”<a id='r1'></a><a href='#f1' class='c011'><sup>[1]</sup></a> with—so far as +this specific treatment of the subject goes—one +notable exception, Palestine. To the Western +mind to-day the Holy Land occupies, as Professor +Pierre Martino has pointed out, a unique +position somewhat apart from other oriental +countries, a position which is of course due to +the inherited traditions of Christianity.<a id='r2'></a><a href='#f2' class='c011'><sup>[2]</sup></a> In +the eighteenth century this feeling was far more +pronounced than it is in these days of modern +scholarship; and therefore, from the eighteenth-century +“oriental” literature under consideration +we may legitimately exclude Hebrew literature +and its imitations. “Oriental,” then, includes +here what it included according to Galland, the +first translator of the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> into French: +“Sous le nom d’Orientaux, je ne comprends pas +seulement les Arabes et les Persans, mais encore +les Turcs et les Tartares et presque tous +les peuples de l’Asie jusqu’à la Chine, mahométans +ou païens et idolâtres.”<a id='r3'></a><a href='#f3' class='c011'><sup>[3]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xvii'>xvii</span>The scope of our subject in time is less readily +defined; since, as in the case of most literary +tendencies, both beginning and end were gradual +and transitional. The prelude was sounded in +the late seventeenth century by the first English +translation of Marana’s satire, <cite>The Turkish +Spy</cite>. Yet, broadly speaking, the period began +between the years 1704 and 1712, with the first +English version of the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, a book so +different in character from any oriental fiction +then known in England, and so far-reaching in +influence, that it forms the natural point of +departure. The period drew to a close with the +advent of the more modern and scholarly translations +of various works made directly from oriental +languages, which influenced later the poetry +of Southey, Moore, Byron, and others. For the +approximate date we may take 1786. In that +year was published <cite>Vathek</cite>,<a id='r4'></a><a href='#f4' class='c011'><sup>[4]</sup></a> the last notable +oriental tale of the century, itself foreshadowing +the coming work of scholars and poets. Only +two years earlier Sir William Jones, the great +orientalist, had given his inaugural lecture as +first president of the Asiatic Society of Bengal. +Yet the date 1786 is approximate only; for in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xviii'>xviii</span>the sixties and seventies, some direct translations +were made; and in the eighties and nineties +oriental tales appeared, so similar in character +to those of this period that they must logically +be included. For the period as a whole, despite +the transitional nature of the beginning and the +end, has a distinctive character. It is obviously +different from the period that followed. The +latter, beginning with the direct translations by +orientalists, has, from the days of Sir William +Jones to those of Kipling, been characterized +by an increasing knowledge of the Orient at first +hand. By travel and residence in the East, +by contact with Eastern peoples, as well as by +study of oriental history, literature, and philosophy, +Englishmen of the nineteenth and +twentieth centuries have learned to know more +of the “inscrutable Orient” than their ancestors +of the eighteenth century ever imagined possible.<a id='r5'></a><a href='#f5' class='c011'><sup>[5]</sup></a> +This fact at once and radically differentiates +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xix'>xix</span>these later centuries from the period we +are to consider. A brief glance over the history +of oriental fiction in England previous to the +eighteenth century will make the distinction +equally clear from that side.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Oriental fiction had been borne to England +from an early period by various waves of influence. +As far back as the eleventh century, +fictitious descriptions of the marvels of India are +found in Anglo-Saxon translations of legends +concerning Alexander the Great. During the +Middle Ages many Eastern stories drifted across +Europe by way of Syria, Byzantium, Italy, and +Spain. Merchants and travelers like Marco +Polo, missionaries, pilgrims, and crusaders aided +the oral transmission of this fiction; and scholars +gave to Europe Latin translations of four great +collections of genuine oriental tales: <cite>Sendebar</cite>; +<cite>Kalila and Dimna</cite>, or <cite>The Fables of Bidpai</cite>; <cite>Disciplina +Clericalis</cite>; and <cite>Barlaam and Josaphat</cite>. +A definite, though not large, share in this +treasure-trove fell to the lot of England and +appeared in the form of metrical romances, +apologues, legends, and tales of adventure. +The <i>fabliau</i> of <cite>Dame Siriz</cite>, <cite>The Proces of the +Sevyn Sages</cite>, Mandeville’s <cite>Voiage</cite>, Chaucer’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xx'>xx</span><cite>Squier’s Tale</cite>,—possibly several other <cite>Canterbury +Tales</cite>,—are typical instances.</p> + +<p class='c007'>In the sixteenth century, that great period of +translation, were published the first English editions +of the <cite>Gesta Romanorum</cite> and of the <cite>Fables +of Bidpai</cite>, the latter entitled <cite>The Morall Philosophie +of Doni</cite> ... <i>englished out of Italian +by Thomas North</i> ... (1570). During the reign +of Elizabeth an entirely new line of intercourse +between England and the East was established +by the voyages of exploration, discovery, and +commerce, characteristic of the Renaissance. +Moreover, since the Fall of Constantinople (1453), +the Turks had been an increasing menace to +Europe. Their ascendancy culminated in the +reign of Soliman the Magnificent (1520–1566), +and their continual advance upon Christendom +was checked only by their great defeat at the +battle of Lepanto (1571). Throughout the +century, as a natural result of these events and +of the voyages referred to above, interest was +aroused in oriental—especially Turkish—history +and fiction. In Painter’s <cite>Palace of Pleasure</cite>, +for instance, we find the stories <cite>Mahomet and +Irene</cite>, and <cite>Sultan Solyman</cite>; in the drama such +plays as the <cite>Soliman and Perseda</cite>, usually ascribed +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxi'>xxi</span>to Kyd; <cite>Alaham</cite>, and <cite>Mustapha</cite>, by +Fulke Greville, Lord Brooke; and Marlowe’s +<cite>Tamburlaine</cite>. In Shakespeare’s plays, one incident, +<cite>The Induction to the Taming of the Shrew</cite>, +has been traced with a good deal of plausibility +to Eastern fiction; otherwise, his works +show no oriental elements of importance. “The +farthest steep of India” as a part of Oberon’s +fairy kingdom is possibly drawn from Lord +Berners’s prose version of <cite>Huon of Bordeaux</cite>. +That the scene of <cite>Antony and Cleopatra</cite> is partly +in the East does not make it anything but a +Roman play.</p> + +<p class='c007'>In the seventeenth century, interest in the +Orient was shown by the works of travelers, +historians, translators of French heroic romances, +dramatists, and orientalists. Knolles’s famous +<cite>Generall History of the Turks</cite> appeared in 1603, +a result of the new interest in Turkey mentioned +above, and itself a notable factor in extending +that interest for years to come. Toward the +middle of the century the pseudo-oriental heroic +romances of Mlle. de Scudéry and others were +translated and won great popularity. After +the Restoration numerous heroic plays on similar +subjects followed in rapid succession. A few +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxii'>xxii</span>of these heroic romances were reprinted in the +eighteenth century and thus form one link between +the fiction of the two periods. Another +link is Sir Roger L’Estrange’s version of <cite>The +Fables of Bidpai</cite>.<a id='r6'></a><a href='#f6' class='c011'><sup>[6]</sup></a> Still another is the Latin +translation by Edward Pococke (1648–1727), son +of the Oxford orientalist, of the Arabian philosophical +romance <cite>Hai Ebn Yockdhan</cite>, which +appeared first in English in the eighteenth century. +Marana’s <cite>Turkish Spy</cite> has already been +mentioned as a late seventeenth-century prelude +to the oriental tale of our period.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Such was the oriental fiction that had entered +England previous to 1700, and had contributed +to a more or less vague and general imaginative +acquaintance with the Orient. The sudden +advent of the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, full of the life, +the colour, and the glamour of the East—even +in the Gallicized version of Antoine Galland—naturally +opened a new chapter in the history +of oriental fiction in England.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The same had been true in France; in fact, +the entire English movement echoed to a certain +extent the similar French movement. That, +also,—preluded by <cite>The Turkish Spy</cite>,—was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxiii'>xxiii</span>inaugurated by the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, first introduced +into Europe by Galland in the famous +translation just referred to. Meeting with instant +and great—though not unanimous—favour, +the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> was followed at once +by the equally popular translations by Pétis +de la Croix, <cite>L’histoire de la Sultane de Perse et +des Vizirs, Contes Turcs</cite> (1707), and <cite>Les Mille et +un Jour [sic], Contes Persans</cite> (1710–1712). The +time was ripe in France for this new literary +material. At the beginning of the new century +there were especial reasons for the welcome given +to oriental stories and to Perrault’s fairy tales, +the chief reason being a natural reaction from the +dominant classicism of Boileau. From Fairy-land +and the Far East two streams began to flow +into the main current of French Romanticism. +The romanticists of that day went wild over the +fascinating tales of “merchants, cadis, slaves, +and calendars,” in a manner foreshadowing the +nineteenth-century romanticists who enthusiastically +welcomed <cite>Les Orientales</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Moreover, interest in the Orient had been +growing throughout the seventeenth century +in connection with the colonial and commercial +expansion of France in the reign of Louis XIV. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxiv'>xxiv</span>Merchants, Jesuit missionaries, travelers, and +ambassadors had returned with information and +entertaining or tragic stories.<a id='r7'></a><a href='#f7' class='c011'><sup>[7]</sup></a> Galland and +Pétis de la Croix, in their turn, found an enthusiastic +reception.<a id='r8'></a><a href='#f8' class='c011'><sup>[8]</sup></a> Their collections were succeeded +by a swarm of preposterous imitations, +such as those of Gueullette, pretending also to +be translated from oriental manuscripts and +catering to the inordinate popular demand for +things oriental. Fantastic elements from the +fairy tales of Perrault and his successors were +mingled with the extravagances of oriental +stories, until the torrent of enthusiasm rapidly +spent its force and left several new channels +open to French fiction. Satire on both oriental +tales and fairy stories inevitably appeared, and +proved a sharp weapon in the hands of Hamilton, +Caylus, and a score of others. Philosophical +satirists like Montesquieu (<cite>Lettres Persanes</cite>, 1721) +found the oriental tale a convenient medium +for scarcely veiled criticism of French society; +and the versatile genius of Voltaire perceived +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxv'>xxv</span>the latent capabilities of this fiction as a vehicle +for philosophy as well as for satire. The coarseness +present in many oriental tales, even in +Galland’s expurgated and Gallicized <cite>Arabian +Nights</cite>, undoubtedly afforded to Crébillon <i>fils</i>, +and others, a starting point for their numerous +<i>contes licencieux</i>, which satirized the extravagance +of the fairy stories and the oriental +tales and ridiculed the moralizing tendency as +well. The latter propensity was prominent in +France toward the middle of the century, witness +the numerous works of Marmontel, the +founder of the so-called <i>conte moral</i>, or tale of +manners and morals. Three of his tales are +oriental in setting. Parody and the use of the +genre as a vehicle for satire and didacticism +assisted its decline.</p> + +<p class='c007'>In England the general development of the +oriental tale was similar, partly because of the +direct influence of numerous translations from +the French and partly because of the presence +of tendencies in England analogous to those in +France. The propensity to moralize and to +philosophize, the love of satire, and the incipient +romantic spirit, were common to both countries, +although present—as we shall see—in varying +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxvi'>xxvi</span>degrees. In England this fiction falls naturally +into four groups,—imaginative, moralistic, +philosophic, and satiric. The imaginative +group, the earliest, and, at the beginning of +the century, the most significant, diminished +as the other groups increased in strength, +but revived again near the end of our +period in Beckford’s <cite>Vathek</cite>. The moralistic +and philosophic groups are prominent in the +periodical essays from Addison to Dr. Johnson. +The philosophic group comprises besides <cite>Rasselas</cite> +several translations from Voltaire’s <i>contes +philosophiques</i>. The satiric group is chiefly +exemplified by the pseudo-letters culminating, +in English, in Goldsmith’s <cite>Citizen of the World</cite>, +and by Count Hamilton’s entertaining parodies. +One work, indeed, belonging in the imaginative +group, was influential throughout the whole +period: the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>—as numerous editions +testify—was a permanent factor in the +development of the oriental tale in England.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Chapters I., II., III., and IV. of this volume +will be devoted to a description of the most important +characteristics of these successive groups, +and the final chapter will present a literary +estimate of the genre as a whole.</p> + +<div class='chapter ph1'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>THE ORIENTAL TALE IN ENGLAND</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span> + <h2 class='c006'>CHAPTER I<br> <span class='c012'>THE IMAGINATIVE GROUP</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>Of all the wide lands open to the wandering +imagination none has a more perennial charm +than the mysterious East. To that magical +country the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, ever since its first +appearance in English in the early years of the +eighteenth century, has proved a favourite gateway, +over which might well be inscribed:—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Be glad, thou reder, and thy sorwe of-caste,</div> + <div class='line'>Al open am I; passe in, and by the faste!”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>With the exception of the Hebrew Scriptures, +the Orient has given us no book that has become +so intimate a part of our imaginative inheritance. +“Aladdin’s lamp,” the “Open Sesame,” “changing +old lamps for new,” “the Old Man of the Sea,” +have entered into familiar household speech. +Many a reader has echoed the mood of Hawthorne, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>“To Persia and Arabia and all the gorgeous +East I owed a pilgrimage for the sake of +their magic tales.”<a id='r9'></a><a href='#f9' class='c011'><sup>[9]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>It would be superfluous to describe this familiar +book in detail. That ground has been well +covered by such translators and essayists as Sir +Richard Burton and Mr. John Payne. Our purpose +is rather to examine briefly the general +character of the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite><a id='r10'></a><a href='#f10' class='c011'><sup>[10]</sup></a> in order to +understand the significance of its sudden entrance +into the England of Queen Anne. The earliest +collection of oriental tales to appear in English +in the century, it is also the richest in pure imaginative +power and therefore has a twofold +right to first consideration in this chapter.</p> + +<p class='c007'>One of the chief elements of charm in the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite> has already been suggested—the +sense of mystery and magic. The arrangement +of the stories enhances this impression. +At first glance the form seems simple. The frame-tale, +that well-known device believed to be of +oriental origin, is the story of the beautiful +Scheherezade telling tales to the cruel sultan +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>for a thousand and one nights. But within +this simple setting the stories are so interwoven +and so varied—apologues, romances, anecdotes, +and fables—that the total effect is as intricate +as the design of an oriental carpet. One strange +story follows another in bewildering profusion +until the reader seems to be walking in a dream +“in the days of Haroun Alraschid,” when the +unexpected always happens. In this land of +wonder and enchantment any threatening cloud +may assume the form of an enormous genie, +white-bearded, terrific, with torch in hand and +a voice like thunder, “a Slave of the Lamp,” +ready to carry a sleeping prince a thousand +leagues through the air or to erect over night a +palace of dazzling splendour; any serpent may +be an enchanted fairy; any beautiful woman +may be a disguised princess or a cruel sorceress +with power to transform human beings into dogs +or black stones; and at every turn one may meet +African magicians who can pronounce the “Open +Sesame” to subterranean treasure-caves. In +the bazaars fairies disguised as old women sell +magic carpets to fortunate princes; by the wayside +an aged dervish sits for the sole purpose of +directing seekers toward the talking bird, the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>singing tree, and the yellow water. “The wondrous +horse of brass” is no more marvelous than +the roc, “a white bird of monstrous size and +of such strength that it takes elephants from the +plains to the tops of the mountains.” In the +world of the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> is to be found the +magic mirror that reveals character by remaining +unsullied only in the presence of the pure in heart. +On the sea furious storms arise and drive ships +to sure disaster against the black mountain of +adamant. Shipwrecked Sindbad meets strange +dwarfs; “tremendous black giants, one-eyed +and as high as a tall palm-tree”; and, most +dangerous of all, the terrible Old Man of the Sea. +Shark-headed monsters and beautiful mermaids +arise from the deep; and, if one could only look +down far enough, one would see in the ocean +depths vast kingdoms of boundless wealth and +unutterable beauty, ruled over by the flamebreathing +princes of the sea. In these enchanted +domains it is not surprising to find superlatively +horrible monsters “with the head of an elephant +and the body of a tiger”; or to encounter blinding +flashes of lightning, “followed by most tremendous +thunder, ... hideous darkness, ... +a dreadful cry, ... and an earthquake such as +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>Asrayel is to cause on the day of judgment.” +The same naïve love of magical unreality that +adorns these stories with such transcendent +horrors produces the scenes of “surpassing +beauty,” which have made the splendour of the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite> proverbial.<a id='r11'></a><a href='#f11' class='c011'><sup>[11]</sup></a> Aladdin’s magnificent +palace—jeweled windows and all—is +eclipsed by the palace of the third Calendar, +“more splendid than imagination can conceive.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>And yet, despite all this misty atmosphere +of wonder and magic, there is in the <cite>Arabian +Nights</cite> a strange sense of reality in the midst +of unreality, a verisimilitude which accounts in +large part for the steady popularity the book +<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>has enjoyed with the English people. The +cities of Bagdad and Cairo, the countries of the +East, the Seven Seas, are real places, though so +far-away that they seem on the borders of fairy-land. +Time as well as space is an actuality, +however remote and vague. Plausible introductory +phrases imitate the manner of a veracious +historian, <i>e.g.</i>, “There was a Sultan named +Mirza who had peaceably filled the throne of +India many years.” It is easy for the reader +to imagine himself present at the scenes described, +<i>e.g.</i>, the opening of the divan of the +mock caliph in the <cite>Sleeper Awakened</cite>, when +“the grand vizier Giafar and the judge of the +police ... first bowed themselves down before +him and paid him the salutations of the +morning.” In the bezesteins silk merchants, +glass dealers, and jewelers sit by their wares +and fall in love with veiled ladies; venders of +roses, dervishes, and beggars crowd past; and +dogs who may be enchanted princes tell false +coin from true to the delight of the lookers-on. +At the water-gate of the palace on the Tigris, +the favourite slave of the sultaness Zobeide outwits +the crabbed old eunuch and secures safe +admission for the trunk containing her lover. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>Prince Houssain tells us travelers’ tales of the +brazen temple in which “the principal idol was ... +of massive gold; its eyes were rubies, so +artificially set, that it seemed to look at the spectator +in whatever direction he stood.” When +the king of Serendib appears in public, he has a +throne fixed on the back of an elephant and is +surrounded by attendants clad in silk and +cloth of gold; “and the officer before him cries +out occasionally, ‘Behold ... the potent and +redoubtable sultan of the Indies, whose palace +is covered with an hundred thousand rubies, ... +greater than the greatest of princes!’ +After which the officer who is behind cries out, +‘This monarch, so great, so powerful, must die, +must die, must die.’ The officer who is before +replies, ‘Praise be to him who liveth forever.’”<a id='r12'></a><a href='#f12' class='c011'><sup>[12]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>Other customs are described in equally vivid +detail. The obsequies of a prince include long +processions of lamenting guards, anchorites, +and maidens; marriage ceremonies are accompanied +by feasting, music, dancing, and the +bride’s seven-fold salutation of her husband. +“The pure religion of our holy prophet” is contrasted +with the cruel rites of fire-worshipers. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>Devout Mussulmans pass through the streets +to the mosques and make pilgrimages to Mecca.</p> + +<p class='c007'>But of all the glimpses of Eastern life the most +interesting is the constantly recurring picture of +the oriental story-teller. Everywhere—in the +bazaars, by the wayside, in palace gardens or +fishermen’s cottages, during the feasts or before +the caliph’s tribunal, by night and by day—the +teller of tales is sure of an interested audience. +The variety of stories in the <cite>Arabian +Nights</cite> makes credible the theory of recent editors, +that the ultimate sources were equally diverse,—an +hypothesis that goes far toward explaining +the artistic excellences and limitations of +the collection.</p> + +<p class='c007'>What wonder that, with listeners clamouring +like children for another story, each narrator +exerted his ingenuity to outdo his predecessors +and, like Scheherezade herself, promised greater +marvels next time? In most of the tales one +surprising adventure succeeds another with +kaleidoscopic rapidity, unconnected except by +the mere presence of the hero. In that respect +these tales resemble the modern historical romance. +The chief appeal is to the listener’s +or reader’s curiosity, and little thought is given +<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>to the structural unity of the narrative. There +is a succession of events, but rarely any causal +sequence. Even in so capital a story as <cite>Aladdin</cite> +the two elements of the climax—Aladdin’s +marriage and the magician’s resolve upon vengeance—are +loosely knit by chance and by magic. +The close of the average story is usually as movable +a point as the climax. If the narrator +thinks of another incident, he merely adds a postscript. +Witness the <cite>Story of the Barber’s Sixth +Brother</cite>, in which the misfortunes of Shacabac +after the Barmecide’s death are foisted upon the +admirably dramatic tale of the Barmecide’s feast.</p> + +<p class='c007'>But, though the majority of the tales possess +little structural unity, many individual incidents +are perfect dramatic sketches, cleverly introduced, +wrought to a climax, developed to a dénouement, +and characterized by compression and +rapid movement no less than by brilliant descriptive +phrases and good dialogue. Such are +the disastrous day-dream of Alnaschar the glass +merchant, the adventure of the barber’s blind +brother, and the ruse of Abon Hassan and his +wife to win gifts from the caliph and Zobeide +by feigning death.<a id='r13'></a><a href='#f13' class='c011'><sup>[13]</sup></a> The dénouement of the last +<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>will readily be recalled. The perplexed caliph +offered a thousand pieces of gold to any one who +could prove which of the two, Abon Hassan or +his wife, died first. “Instantly a hand was +held out, and a voice from under Abon Hassan’s +pall was heard to say, ‘I died first, Commander +of the Faithful, give me the thousand pieces of +gold.’” This dramatic instinct for situation or +incident is especially noticeable in the numerous +clever introductions. The favourite device +of the disguised caliph Haroun wandering +through the city in search of adventure never +fails to awaken interest. Mysterious scenes of +grief or sudden exclamations stimulate curiosity +at once. “‘For God’s sake, sir,’ replied the +stranger, ‘let me go! I cannot without horror +look upon that abominable barber!’”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Beyond incident and situation, however, +the dramatic instinct of the story-teller does not +go. He shows little psychological insight. His +characters are wooden automata, picturesque +truly, but neither individualized nor alive. +Various figures recur repeatedly: the prodigal +youth, forsaken by his fair-weather friends; +the tyrant sultan; the clever man; the superlative +hero; the unjust judge; good and bad +<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>viziers; and good and bad sons. They might be +shifted from one story to another with no more +shock than Aladdin’s palace felt when lifted +and set down again. The <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> contains, +fortunately, little or no direct moralizing, +but in these abstract types it offered suggestions +not lost upon the eighteenth-century writers +of moralistic oriental tales. Even familiar figures +like Aladdin and Sindbad owe their existence +as individuals to the reader’s sympathetic +imagination. They are interesting, not in themselves, +but on account of their marvelous adventures.</p> + +<p class='c007'>For, after all, one supreme attraction of the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite> is the charm of pure adventure, +the story for the sake of the story. Sentimental +tales are exceptional; in only eight is +love the chief interest. Adventurous tales of +the <cite>Sindbad</cite> type are more characteristic. It is +noticeable that in many of the stories where +picaresque or farcical realism is strong, magic +plays no part. But in all the tales, whether +magical or realistic, the emphasis is thrown on +events. Exciting incidents are given verisimilitude +by picturesque details, until the reader, +forgetting for the moment the absence of the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>deeper realities of character, comes under the +spell of pure romance,—as in the case of <cite>Robinson +Crusoe</cite>, the novels of Dumas, or the +folk-ballads,—and must himself “mitdichten.” +The magical atmosphere, the rich variety of +dramatic incident, the spirit of adventure, and +the brilliant background, atone in part for +the lack, in the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, of structural +unity and characterization. Across the +scene moves the seemingly endless, ever shifting +pageant of <i>dramatis personæ</i>, all sorts and +conditions of men: princes and viziers, ropemakers +and fishermen, dervishes and cadis, +sheiks and slaves, queens and beggar-women. +One can see them, hear them speak, and guess +at their characters as one might in observing +passers-by in the bazaars of some strange Eastern +city. For the time being it is easy to follow +Ali Baba to the forest to gather wood; or to +share the fright of the fisherman who liberates +the genie; or to hear the tired porter Hindbad +railing at Fortune as he rests in the cool street +sprinkled with rose-water, while the white-bearded, +travel-wise Sindbad listens from his +palace window and summons the poor man in; +or to feel the human interest in the dramatic +<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>scene that serves as the general background—Scheherezade +saving the lives of her countrywomen +by telling her tales to the sultan.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The collection of oriental tales next in order +of importance is the <cite>Persian Tales</cite> or the <cite>Thousand +and One Days</cite><a id='r14'></a><a href='#f14' class='c011'><sup>[14]</sup></a> (1714), the companion-piece +to the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>. The plan is similar: +a frame-tale which introduces and concludes +the collection and links the successive stories. +But in the <cite>Persian Tales</cite>, instead of a sultan +who has lost faith in women, the central figure +is the princess of Casmire, who, having dreamed +that she saw an ungrateful stag forsaking a +hind, has lost faith in men and has decided never +to marry. Her beauty drives men mad; the +king, her father, is in despair; and her old nurse, +Sutlememé, undertakes to convert her by tales of +faithful lovers. For a thousand and one days the +tales are told, but each hero is criticized by the +skeptical and obdurate princess. She is finally +persuaded to marry the prince of Persia only +by the magic powers and religious authority of +a holy dervish. The conclusion of the frame-tale +is unnecessarily complicated by the introduction +of the witch Mehrefsa, a Persian Circe. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>There is at the close an attempt to recall the +introduction by the story of the prince’s dream +that the princess, “fairer than a houri,” appeared +to him in a flowery meadow and told him of her +dream and consequent loss of faith in mankind. +But this incident gives only a superficial unity +to the frame-tale; structural unity is lacking. +The same criticism holds true of the majority of +individual stories in the <cite>Persian Tales</cite>. Considerable +unity of feeling, however, is given to +the collection by the fact that Sutlememé’s +avowed purpose holds her chiefly to one theme,—true +love,—which often rises above the sensuous +or the ridiculously sentimental and throws +a pleasant light over the stories as a whole.</p> + +<p class='c007'>This characteristic differentiates the <cite>Persian +Tales</cite> at once from the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>. For +instance, a typical story in the <cite>Persian Tales</cite> +begins as follows: the hero, Couloufe, a youth +of noble birth, having wasted his substance, +wanders to a far-off city. A mysterious slave +in the bazaar beckons him. He follows into a +palace; enters one hall after another, each more +glorious than the last; and beholds pillars of +“massy gold,” silver trees with emeralds for +leaves, singing birds behind golden lattices, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>fragrant roses growing around marble basins of +crystal water, banquets on sandalwood tables, +little pages offering wine in cups made of single +rubies; and, finally, the princess arrayed in +“rose-coloured taffeta, thick-sown with pearls,” +seated on a golden throne, surrounded by “radiant +damsels” singing to the lute or dulcimer, +“Love but once, but love forever.” “Couloufe +imagined that he saw the moon surrounded by +the stars, and fainted, quite overpowered with +the sight of this ravishing object.” To faint +seems, in fact, the customary mode of showing +affection. In another tale, the heroine on the +slightest provocation melts into “floods of tears” +and the hero is not far behind with his tears and +swoons. Reproached by his mistress, he says, +“It struck me to my very soul, and in the height +of my grief ... I fell into a fit and swooned +away at the foot of the throne.” Violent agitation, +“a languishing air,” transports of passion +or of wrath, remorse which causes death, call +to mind the eighteenth-century novel of sentiment.</p> + +<p class='c007'>More sentimental than the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, +the <cite>Persian Tales</cite> is also more fantastic. The +talking bird of the prophet Isaac, which came +<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>to aid Aboulfouaris on the desert island, had a +blue head, red eyes, yellow wings, and a green +body. We are not surprised when the hero says, +“I had never seen one like it.” This remarkable +bird is, however, eclipsed in the same story by +an ugly Afrite with a nose like an elephant’s +trunk and with one eye blood-red, the other blue, +who led Aboulfouaris past roaring lions, huge +dragons, and fierce griffins. The Afrite and the +griffins themselves seem commonplace beside +the prophet Elias, who is pictured as a cavalier +wearing a green turban set with rubies and riding +a rose-coloured horse under whose feet the earth +immediately produces flowers. In describing +scenes of beauty or of horror the <cite>Persian Tales</cite> +is far more lavish than the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>. +The princess Tourandocte, asking riddles of +Prince Calaf, “not satisfied with putting this +question to him, ... maliciously threw off her +veil, to dazzle and confound him with the luster +of her beauty. Her despite and shame [at his +having guessed her other riddles] had given her +a blush which added new charms, ... her head +was adorned with ... flowers; ... and her eyes +shone brighter than the stars, brighter than the +sun when he shines in his full glory at the opening +<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>of the black cloud. The amorous son of +Timurtasch, at the sight of this incomparable +princess ... stood mute.” Scenes of horror +are equally marvelous. The Persian Old Man +of the Sea, for instance, is a huge monster with +tiger’s eyes and an impenetrable skin, who meets +his death only by battling with “the greatest +roc that was ever seen.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Like the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, the <cite>Thousand and +One Days</cite> carries us to a land of magic and enchantment. +There we find the magic mountain +of polished steel which draws all ships to +it with fatal power; the ring with Solomon’s +seal; and the magic chest that transports its +occupant through the air when guided by pressure +of certain springs, like the horse of brass. +There are bad genii, black and lean with sparkling +eyes and horns; and there are good spirits, +clothed in white like “religious Sophis.” There +are magicians like the witch Bedra, who sits +in a dismal cavern with a great book open upon +her knees, in which she reads before a furnace of +gold, wherein there is a pot of silver, full of black +earth that boils without fire. Caverns of treasure +contain kings and princesses in magic sleep. +One amusing variation from the ordinary treasure-cave +<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>is the cavern of books. Avicena, the +sage, says: “Towards the Caspian Sea there is +a mountain which is called the Red Mountain, +because it is covered with roses throughout the +year.” At the foot is a cavern of vast extent, +the doors of which by virtue of a talisman open +once a year of their own accord and shut again +in half an hour and fifteen minutes, and if “any +bookish man, too intent upon his choice of authors,” +stay, he is sure to be starved to death. +“The wise Chec Chehabeddin” gathered there +twenty thousand books, which treat of the philosopher’s +stone, of the method of discovering +hidden treasure, of changing men into beasts, +and of giving souls to vegetables: “all the secrets +of nature.”<a id='r15'></a><a href='#f15' class='c011'><sup>[15]</sup></a> Apparently this remarkable library +was carefully catalogued and efficiently +watched by genii, who seized all persons that neglected +to return books and “tormented them +cruelly, ... even to death.”<a id='r16'></a><a href='#f16' class='c011'><sup>[16]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>One of the greatest charms of the <cite>Persian +Tales</cite>, as of its better-known rival, lies in the +mingling of reality and unreality. Genuine +glimpses of oriental customs and beliefs alternate +with strange adventures. The scenes are laid +in real places, but the Eastern names have a +magic all their own. We see Aboulfouaris, +“the Great Voyager,” sailing down the Gulf of +Basra, between Persia and Araby the Blest, +toward Ormus and the kingdom of Indes. It is +easy for the fancy to fly as on a magic carpet from +the vale of Cashmere, from Carisme and Candahar +to Golconda and Samarcande; or to sail +past China to the Isle of Cheristany till our ship +drives “to the Strait of the Moluccas, south of +the Philippines into seas unknown to our +mariners.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Strange customs are described with a lavish +and yet plausible use of detail. The throne of +the king of China was “made of Catai steel in +the form of a dragon, about three cubits high; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>over it was a canopy of yellow satin adorned with +diamonds supported by four lofty pillars of the +same Catai steel.” The king, when disposed +“to take the diversion of fowling, ... was +clothed in a straight caffetan, and his beard was +tied up in a black bag.” Grief of the Chinese +courtiers for their king’s death was expressed +by dyeing their faces yellow and strewing rose +leaves before the throne. In the story of Aboulfouaris’s +first voyage occurs an elaborate description +of the suttee—the funeral pyre, the +ablutions, the gorgeous apparel, and the voluntary +suicide of the widow.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Other customs described are masquerades, +visits, and feasts. On one festival night fireworks +were set off, sherbets and sweetmeats were +offered to every one, dancing to the tambours +and deffs took place in the square, and “Calenders +ran to and fro in the street like men transported +with frenzy.” “The shops in all the great +streets and squares were hung with tapestry ... +illuminated with sashes that contained +some verse out of the Alcoran; ... the sacred +book might be read entire as you walked the +streets. It seemed as if the Angel Gabriel had +brought it down to our great prophet a second +<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>time in characters of light.” The most binding +oath is, “I swear by the black stone of the +sacred temple of Mecca and by the holy grove +of Medina, where the tomb of our prophet lies.” +“There is no other God but one, and Mahomet +is his prophet.” Belief in the divine pen of fire +that writes on a tablet of light is referred to in +the story of <cite>Couloufe</cite>. “I know not whether +God wills that I die or live for you, but at least +I know well that it will never be written in heaven +that I shall repudiate you.” There are several +curious references to Eastern philosophies, +<i>e.g.</i>, the captive princess who has just stabbed +herself says: “[I learned in infancy] the doctrine +of Xaca, and you need not then wonder I +had the courage to do this. I am returning to +my original nothing.” The king replies, “May +you ... after having passed through the nine +hells, be born again daughter of another sovereign +as at the first transmigration.” In the +tale of <cite>Fadlallah and Zemroude</cite> the idea of transmigration +is prominent.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Scattered through the <cite>Persian Tales</cite> are incidents +and phrases suggesting familiar European +stories. It is interesting to note the resemblances, +but impossible to say whether the original source +<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>was oriental or European.<a id='r17'></a><a href='#f17' class='c011'><sup>[17]</sup></a> For instance, this +version of the <cite>Ballad of the Heir of Linne</cite> occurs. +Atalmulc, the spendthrift son of a rich jeweler, +had been told by his dying father that after +he had wasted all his patrimony, he should tie +a rope to the branch of a certain tree in the +garden and “prevent the miseries of poverty.” +Atalmulc, thinking his father had suggested +suicide, endeavoured to hang himself. The +branch broke, disclosing the careful father’s +hoard of jewels. In the story of <cite>King Ruzvanchad</cite> +the king marries the princess of the genii +with the promise never to reprove her, but to +say, “She is a genie and has special reasons for +her actions.” He breaks his promise, after +great provocation; and she vanishes, to return +after ten years to reward his constancy. There +is a resemblance here to the story of <cite>Undine</cite>. +Both tales, like <cite>Lohengrin</cite> and <cite>Cupid and Psyche</cite>, +are variants on the world-wide theme: Lack +of faith means loss of love. Other incidents in +<cite>Ruzvanchad</cite> might find parallels in Celtic, or +Teutonic, or Greek legends. The king meets +a white doe, “beautifully sprinkled with blue +<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>and black spots; with rings of gold upon her +feet; and upon her back a yellow satin, bordered +round with embroidery of silver.” She disappears +into a fountain; the king, thinking her a +nymph in disguise, falls asleep to be awakened +by “a ravishing symphony” coming from “a +very magnificent palace all illuminated,” which +has been raised by superhuman power. Later +he finds a melancholy lady in torn garments, +who says: “I am the daughter and the wife of +a king, and yet not what I say. I am a princess, +and yet not what I am.” Her misfortunes +prove to be due to the machinations of a witch +who, Duessa-like, has assumed her form and +won away her husband. In the <cite>History of Two +Brothers, Genies</cite> [<i>sic</i>], <cite>Adis and Dahy</cite>, a tale in +some respects coarse and repulsive, there is a +curious description of an island where ideas of +beauty are topsyturvy; the wrinkles and decrepitude +of old age are adored and the loveliness of +youth despised—characteristics recalling the +Topsyturvy land of European story. In the +same tale the costume of the islanders seems +borrowed from the <i>san benito</i>. They wore +“long robes of cotton on which were painted +several figures of demons in red, green, and yellow, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>with flames and other odd conceits.” In +<cite>The History of Malek and the Princess Schirine</cite>, +Malek, by flying in a magic chest, gains entrance +to the apartment of the princess and persuades +her and her father that he is the prophet Mahomet +and her destined husband. There are +touches of humour here, a rare quality in these +tales. “I had eat up all my provisions and +spent all my money. The prophet Mahomet +was reduced to as low a state of want as ever +man was that had asked alms.” Throughout +the tale there is a spirit of mockery, of practical +joking, not unlike that of a Spanish story. One +cannot help surmising that Le Sage’s collaboration +with Pétis de la Croix went further than +strictly editorial work. In fact, in view of the +resemblances to European legend noted above, +it is most probable that Pétis de la Croix himself, +taking advantage of the wave of enthusiasm +recently aroused by Galland’s <cite>Mille et une +Nuit</cite>,<a id='r18'></a><a href='#f18' class='c011'><sup>[18]</sup></a> treated his oriental manuscripts far more +freely even than Galland, added decorative incidents +from European sources, and invented the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>title <cite>Mille et un Jour</cite>.<a id='r19'></a><a href='#f19' class='c011'><sup>[19]</sup></a> in direct imitation of +Galland’s title.</p> + +<p class='c007'>In general the <cite>Persian Tales</cite> resembles the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite> in the mingling of magic and +reality, of strange enchantments and oriental +customs almost as strange; in dramatic presentation +of picturesque incident and background; +in lack of characterization and, with few exceptions, +of structural unity. But the <cite>Persian +Tales</cite> is far more sentimental, more fantastic, +more brilliant in colour. Here the reader is in +a fairy-land of charming or grotesque surprises, +while in the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, despite the misty +clouds of enchantment, there is substantial +ground under foot. May not this be one reason +why the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> has always been a greater +favourite in England than the <cite>Persian Tales</cite>; +and why, in France, the popularity of the <cite>Persian +Tales</cite> has equaled, if not surpassed, that of the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite>?</p> + +<p class='c007'>The <cite>Turkish Tales</cite>, the third important collection, +was translated from French into English +in 1708, and appeared also in a version called +<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span><cite>The Persian and the Turkish Tales Compleat +[sic]</cite> (1714).<a id='r20'></a><a href='#f20' class='c011'><sup>[20]</sup></a> It is a version of the old oriental +story of <cite>Sendebar</cite>, best known to English students +in the Middle English form, <cite>The Seven +Sages of Rome</cite>. The frame-tale in this version is +briefly as follows: Queen Canzade’s evil passion +for her stepson turns to hatred upon his rejection +of her love and her scheme to murder the +king. The prince is bound to forty days’ silence +for fear of a mysterious calamity predicted +by his tutor. The latter, meanwhile, to avoid +questions retires discreetly into a cave. Canzade +persuades the king to decree the prince’s +death; the forty viziers successively plead for +him by stories of wicked women and loyal +sons; the queen endeavours to win her way by +tales of evil viziers and murderous princes; until +finally the tutor is unearthed, the prince justified, +and the queen condemned in his stead. +The Tales are appropriately called by the Turks +“Malice of Women,” for the queen’s stories reveal +her malice and the vizier’s tales defend the prince +more by attacking women in general, and the +queen in particular, than by praising him.</p> + +<p class='c007'>In this satirical spirit the <cite>Turkish Tales</cite> +<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>affords a marked contrast to the <cite>Persian Tales</cite>. +The two collections are similar in use of magic +and of oriental customs, lack of structural unity, +absence of characterization, and emphasis on +the story for the story’s sake. The <cite>Turkish +Tales</cite> differs in that it contains no elaborate descriptions. +This absence of stage-setting, as it +were, focuses attention on the plot and throws +the characters into bolder relief. A few of the +tales, as a result, are admirable narratives. The +best is the most famous of the collection, <cite>The +Santon Barsisa</cite>, quoted by Steele in the <cite>Guardian</cite>, +No. 148, and in that form suggesting to +Lewis—according to his own statement—the +idea of <cite>The Monk</cite>.<a id='r21'></a><a href='#f21' class='c011'><sup>[21]</sup></a> The story here is brief and +crude, but swift in movement and powerful in a +way not unlike early versions of the Faust saga. +The dialogues between the devil and the saint +are thoroughly dramatic; no mention has been +<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>made of the devil at all, and the reader is as +utterly unprepared for his sudden stage-entrance +as is the saint himself. An evil idea arises in +the santon’s mind and, quick as thought, “the +devil, taking this opportunity, whispered in his +ear thus: ‘O santon, do not let slip such a fortunate +minute.’” The santon yields, commits +one crime after another, is detected, and condemned +to be hanged. On the scaffold he hears +a whisper in his ear: “‘O santon, if you will +worship me, I will extricate you out of this +difficulty and transport you two thousand +leagues from here, into a country where you shall +be reverenced by men as much as you were before +this adventure.’—‘I am content,’ says Barsisa; +‘deliver me and I will worship thee.’ ‘Give +me first a sign of adoration,’ replies the devil; +whereupon the santon bowed his head and said, +‘I give myself to you.’ The devil, then raising +his voice, said, ‘O Barsisa, I am satisfied; I +have obtained what I desired’; and with these +words, spitting in his face, he disappeared, and +the wretched santon was hanged.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Of the other tales, six deserve mention. Two +were quoted in the <cite>Spectator</cite>: <cite>Chec Chehabeddin +and the Sultan of Egypt</cite> in No. 94; <cite>The Fable +<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>of the Sultan Mahmoud and the Two Owls</cite> in No. +512. The third, the story of the <cite>King of Aad</cite>,<a id='r22'></a><a href='#f22' class='c011'><sup>[22]</sup></a> +has an interesting resemblance to an incident +in <cite>Gulliver’s Travels</cite>. The fourth and fifth are +characteristic of the collection, <cite>The History of +the Brahman and the Young Fiquay</cite>, a Turkish +version of the Aladdin story, and the oriental +apologue of <cite>King Togrul-Bey</cite>. The sixth, <cite>The +History of the Prince of Carizme and the Princess +of Georgia</cite>, may be noted as exceptionally fantastic, +and as containing the song attributed +to John Hughes:—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Eternal are the chains which here</div> + <div class='line'>The generous souls of lovers bind,” etc.<a id='r23'></a><a href='#f23' class='c011'><sup>[23]</sup></a></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>After the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, the <cite>Persian Tales</cite>, +and the <cite>Turkish Tales</cite>, the best imaginative oriental +tales are the English versions of the so-called +pseudo-translations. The first to appear in +English was <cite>The Travels and Adventures of the +Three Princes of Serendip</cite><a id='r24'></a><a href='#f24' class='c011'><sup>[24]</sup></a> ... (1722) from the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>French of De Mailli [or Mailly], whose version +was in turn from the Italian <cite>Peregrinaggio</cite> ... by +Armeno (1557).<a id='r25'></a><a href='#f25' class='c011'><sup>[25]</sup></a> The events of the story, in De +Mailli’s rendering, are said to have occurred “in +the happy time when kings were philosophers +and sent each other important problems to solve,”—a +sentiment lacking in the Italian, and characteristic +of a French eighteenth-century version. +The frame-tale recounts the travels of +three “equally beautiful and gifted” princes, +who seek culture and win success in various enterprises. +In the Emperor Behram’s country, +their first adventure is the one probably imitated +by Voltaire in <cite>Zadig</cite>. They tell a camel driver +that his lost camel is blind, lame, and laden with +honey, butter, etc., but that they have not seen +him. When accused of theft, they inform +the judge that their close observation of the +camel’s footprints, the cropped herbage, etc., +has led them to infer the truth. Another achievement +is their recovery of the Emperor’s lost mirror +of justice, which has the extraordinary property +of detecting false accusations. If a slanderer +<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>look into the mirror, his face turns black and can +be restored only by public confession and penance. +Many of the stories are apparently based +on Italian <i>novelle</i> of shepherdesses, Venetian +ladies, clever goldsmiths, and other similar characters, +and are unoriental. There is one story +of metempsychosis, however, similar to the +oriental tale, <cite>Fadlallah and Zemroude</cite>, in the +<cite>Persian Tales</cite>. But “the general plan of the +<cite>Peregrinaggio</cite> is more inflexible and homogeneous +than is usual in oriental tales.”<a id='r26'></a><a href='#f26' class='c011'><sup>[26]</sup></a> The English +version stands by itself in being perhaps the +only pseudo-translation which came by way +of eighteenth-century France from sixteenth-century +Italy.</p> + +<p class='c007'>One of the most facile and prolific of French +writers of pseudo-translations was Thomas +Simon Gueullette (1683–1766). Four of his +collections were translated into English under +the names: <cite>Chinese Tales, or the Wonderful +Adventures of the Mandarin Fum-Hoam</cite> ... +(1725); <cite>Mogul Tales, or the Dreams of Men +Awake: being Stories Told to Divert the Sultanas +<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>of Guzarat, for the Supposed Death of the Sultan</cite> +(1736); <cite>Tartarian Tales; or, a Thousand and +One Quarters of Hours</cite> (1759); and <cite>Peruvian +Tales Related in One Thousand and One Hours +by One of the Select Virgins of Cuzco, to the Inca +of Peru</cite> ... (1764, Fourth (?) Edition).<a id='r27'></a><a href='#f27' class='c011'><sup>[27]</sup></a> The +last named is a worthless collection, oriental or +rather pseudo-oriental in everything except <i>locale</i> +and interesting only as an example of the ultra-fantastic, +degenerate oriental tale. One bit of +unconscious humour rewards the reader; the +author gives local colour to the terrors of Peru +by mentioning “muskettas, reptiles, and other +insects.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Of the three other collections, the <cite>Chinese +Tales</cite> may serve as the type. The frame-tale +is as follows: The sultan of China in disguise +wins the love of the princess Gulchenraz, kills +the usurper of her kingdom, tests her love by +the suit of a mock-sultan, and is accepted by her +on condition that her Mahometan faith be unmolested. +She agrees to listen to the Mandarin +Fum-Hoam, who tells her tales to convert her +to belief in transmigration; and the sultan promises +that, if she remain unconverted, he will +<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>become a Mahometan. Fum-Hoam tells many +tales, and at the end reveals himself as her lost +brother, who is wise as Solomon, and who has +brought to pass all the events of the story. He +then transports them to his kingdom, Georgia, +and admits that there is no truth in the transmigration +theory, and that he has told his tales +solely to make the sultan keep his promise +of embracing Mahometanism. The frame-tale +closes with the implication that they all lived +happily ever after. The oriental colouring is +very slight. Transmigration is mentioned only +to be ridiculed. Reference is made to the suttee, +to pilgrimages to Mecca, and to the fast of Ramadan +according to the Koran. Descriptions of +emotion are absurd; one hero dies of grief, with +lamentations “like the roarings of a lion.” +The narratives are often grotesque, <i>e.g.</i> the +journey to the Country of Souls,<a id='r28'></a><a href='#f28' class='c011'><sup>[28]</sup></a> where the soul +can be put into a bag to be brought back to the +land of the living and reëmbodied by placing the +bag at the mouth of the corpse. The author’s +fancy runs riot as to the successive transmigrations +of Fum-Hoam, who assumes in tedious +<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>succession numerous forms, such as those of a +dog, a maid, a flea, and a bat. There is surprisingly +little satire, considering the opportunities +for observing mankind possible to the ubiquitous +Fum-Hoam. In the use of magic, the +<cite>Chinese Tales</cite> follows conventional lines—the +elixir of life or water of youth, the secret of transmuting +metals to gold, the mysterious words of +Solomon which command the genii; cabalistic +prayers, which reveal black marble staircases +leading to subterranean treasure-caves; and incantations +in the manner of Theocritus. Many +other incidents imply a knowledge of European +legend and literature. One story tells of Grecian +shepherds; another of Kolao, the wild man, and +his Robinson Crusoe life; another recalls Pandora; +another, the fairy tale of brothers rewarded +for helping fairies in the form of animals. One +incident might easily be a masque of Neptune—a +venerable man rising from the sea in a chariot +of mother-of-pearl, drawn by sea-horses, and +accompanied by mermaids. The adventure of +the prince in the haunted tower of the forty +virgins serves as sequel to a story similar to the +<cite>Pied Piper of Hamelin</cite>. A dwarf agreed for a +certain sum to free the city of Ispahan from rats +<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>by playing on tabor and pipe. When the people +refused payment, they were threatened with dire +punishments by the dwarf’s mother, “a genie in +the shape of an old black woman above fifty +feet high ... with a whip in her hand,” unless +they brought at once forty of their most beautiful +daughters. To the sound of the genie’s +leather trumpet, “these unhappy victims of +their father’s perfidy” were led to the tower +and seen no more until rescued by the prince. +The <cite>Chinese Tales</cite> contains less moralizing than +the other pseudo-translations. There is one +reference to the happiness of a tranquil life away +from court, from lawsuits, and from women; +one moral drawn as to the ill results of educating +women: “I am, from my own experience, fully +satisfied that the care to govern her family +should be the only employ of a virtuous wife; +and that it is next to a miracle, if pride, or some +other more dangerous passion, make not a woman +neglect her duty, when she once comes to apply +herself to the study of learning, and affects to +surpass the rest of her sex.” We find, also, the +poetical fancy common in Persian literature that +even the palace of the king is but an inn, for its +successive inhabitants are but travelers upon +<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>earth toward the same common end,—death;<a id='r29'></a><a href='#f29' class='c011'><sup>[29]</sup></a> +and the equally familiar figure in which life is +compared to a game of chess. “Some act the +kings, the queens, the knights, the fools, and +simple pawns. There is a vast difference between +them, while they are in motion; but when +once the game is over, and the chess-board shut, +they are all thrown promiscuously together into +the same box, without any sort of distinction—all +then become equal; and there is nothing but +our good works and charity towards our neighbours, +that will give us the superiority.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Gueullette’s two other collections, the <cite>Mogul +Tales</cite> and the <cite>Tartarian Tales</cite>, are similar in +plan and treatment. Extravagant in the use +of magic, fantastic in description and incident, +employing European legends freely and oriental +colouring very slightly, sometimes moralizing, +sometimes coarse, seldom satirical, imitating +the faults rather than the excellences of genuine +oriental translations, these narratives are frequently +entertaining, but possess little intrinsic +value.</p> + +<p class='c007'>One special point of interest in the <cite>Mogul +Tales</cite> must not be omitted,—the incident of the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>sinners with flaming hearts,—since this was +probably the source of the parallel passage in +Beckford’s <cite>Vathek</cite>. It is worth remark as external +evidence that the <cite>Mogul Tales</cite> is in the +catalogue of Beckford’s library. The points +of similarity and the superiority of <cite>Vathek</cite> are +obvious, if the quotations from <cite>Vathek</cite>, pp. 62–65 +of this chapter, are compared with the following +extract from the <cite>Mogul Tales</cite> (Weber’s +<cite>Tales of the East</cite>, Edinburgh, 1812, Vol. III., p. 58 +<i>et seq.</i>). Aboul-Assam tells how he saw “a flambeau ... +carried by a little man ... entering +a subterranean passage.... We went +down together ... into the mountain; at +last we traversed a long alley of black marble; +but so finely polished, that it had the appearance +of a looking-glass; ... we reached a large hall, +where we found three men standing mute, and +in postures of sorrow. They were looking +earnestly on a triangular table, whereon lay a +book, with clasps of gold; on its back was this +inscription: ‘Let no man touch this divine +treatise that is not perfectly pure’ ... I wish, +said I ... that this peace may continue always +among you. Peace is banished from these sad +places, replied the eldest of the three, with an +<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>air of sternness.... We wait, said the second, +in this sepulcher, for the just judgment of God.—You +are then, continued I, great sinners.—Alas! +cried the third, we are continually tortured +for our evil actions ... they unbuttoned +their waistcoats, and through their skin, which +appeared like crystal, I saw their hearts compassed +with fire, by which, though burnt without +ceasing, yet [they were] ... never consumed; +I then was at no loss for the reason of +their looking so ghastly and affrighted.” Aboul-Assam +is then shown paintings representing +their crimes, rebukes them in horror, is in turn +rebuked by a picture of his own past sins, and +condemned to blindness for seven years. Vathek +is also punished, but the genius of Beckford +chooses a more dramatic and awful penalty.</p> + +<p class='c007'>In connection with <cite>Vathek</cite>, the <cite>Adventures of +Abdalla, Son of Hanif</cite> ... by Jean Paul Bignon, +translated into English by William Hatchett +(1729),<a id='r30'></a><a href='#f30' class='c011'><sup>[30]</sup></a> is of even greater interest than the +<cite>Mogul Tales</cite>. It is similar in general character +to its predecessors. The frame-tale, which +recounts Abdalla’s search for the fountain of +youth, includes all his adventures and the past +<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>history of all the people he meets, and is so bewilderingly +entangled that the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, +by contrast, seems simplicity itself. The tales +are more or less interesting stories<a id='r31'></a><a href='#f31' class='c011'><sup>[31]</sup></a> of adventure +and love, and are melodramatic, humorous, +moralizing, and satirical. Magic abounds, European +legends and previous oriental tales are +freely utilized, and great stress is laid upon the +“horrid,” the grotesque, the fantastic. Given +these characteristics, it is easy to see how <cite>Abdalla</cite> +appealed to the author of <cite>Vathek</cite>. That it did +make a strong appeal is shown by Beckford’s +numerous borrowings. In every instance he +improved upon his original. The author of +<cite>Abdalla</cite> describes rest in a delightful country place +surrounded by “flowers of remarkable +beauty,” “birds of every colour,” and “very fine +trees.” Beckford’s similar description gives concrete +<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>images—fountains, roses, jessamines, +violets, nightingales, doves, orange trees, palms, +and pomegranates. Dilsenguin, the hero in +<cite>Abdalla</cite>, “precipitated himself into a subterranean +apartment,” seeking “detestable volumes” +of magic. The phantoms seized Dilsenguin +by the feet and threw him into the well, +head foremost. When he reached the hall of +Eblis, he found it an immense temple of black +and white marble. At the keystone of one of +the arches he saw “a globe of fire, which, sometimes +obscure and sometimes brilliant, filled the +temple with unsteady flashes of light.” The +globe opened and there descended from it a huge +old man in a yellow robe, holding a scepter of +gold. He “seated himself upon the throne. +It was the formidable Eblis.... His looks +were horrid, his beard and hair bristled.... +[He had] a hole in the place of a nose,” etc. +When Dilsenguin thanked him for his magic +books, Eblis, “enraged that a mortal should break +silence in his temple,” kicked him so violently +that he lost consciousness. Contrast the impressive +description of Vathek’s reception by +“the formidable Eblis” enthroned upon the globe +of fire. “His person was that of a young man, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>whose noble and regular features seemed to have +been tarnished by malignant vapours; in his +large eyes appeared both pride and despair; his +flowing hair retained some resemblance to that +of an angel of light; in his hand, which thunder +had blasted, he swayed the iron scepter that +causes the monster Ouranabad, the Afrits, and +all the powers of the abyss to tremble; at his +presence the heart of the Caliph sunk within him, +and for the first time, he fell prostrate on his +face.” Beckford’s Eblis is a faint but not +wholly unworthy echo of Milton’s Satan, while +Bignon’s Eblis is merely the grotesque ogre of +the fairy tale.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The last pseudo-translation that need be +noticed is the <cite>New Arabian Nights</cite> (1792), +from the French of Dom Chavis and M. Cazotte.<a id='r32'></a><a href='#f32' class='c011'><sup>[32]</sup></a> +The book purported to be a continuation of the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, translated from the Arabic. +Modern scholars believe that the “translators” +undoubtedly utilized Arabic manuscripts as a +basis, but made so many changes that the book +is to be regarded as a pseudo-translation. It +may be dismissed as a weak imitation of the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, redeemed in part by two admirable +<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>tales: <cite>The Robber Caliph</cite> and <cite>The History +of Maugraby<a id='r33'></a><a href='#f33' class='c011'><sup>[33]</sup></a> the Magician</cite>. The latter +has additional interest in that it suggested to +Southey the germinal idea of <cite>Thalaba</cite>.<a id='r34'></a><a href='#f34' class='c011'><sup>[34]</sup></a> Maugraby, +the evil enchanter, half human, half +genie, carries away children to his magical +domains under Mt. Atlas, and by tortures and +caresses enslaves them for his master Zatanai +[Satan]. If obedient, they are taken to the +caverns under the sea adjoining the Dom Daniel +near Tunis,—the school of magic and the magnificent +court of Asmodeus,—where evil magicians +assemble in the wane of the moon. The +hero of this tale is the captive prince Habed, +who after exciting adventures compasses the +destruction of Maugraby and the liberation of +his prisoners, including the princess of Egypt. +The story closes with the marriage of the prince +<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>and the princess. The narrative is marred by +coarse incidents and a few long digressions, but +contains several interesting passages, <i>e.g.</i> the +introductory scenes between Maugraby, the +vizier, the buffoon,<a id='r35'></a><a href='#f35' class='c011'><sup>[35]</sup></a> and the king; the descriptions +of the wiles of the magician; and the +account of Habed’s life in the fairy palace. The +interest is always centered on the hero’s terrible +task of fighting the powers of darkness, led by +Maugraby. The latter possesses no countenance +peculiar to himself, but changes even his features +according to the passion of the moment +and transfers his evil soul from one body to +another. “He takes every method to engage +the kings of the earth to part with their first-born +sons to him that they may become powerful +instruments in his hands; ... he prowls about +the houses of those that are discontented. If a +father ... be displeased with his son and happen +to curse him, he seizes the child; if, on the +other hand, the son should curse his father, still +the child is made his prey.... If a caravan +set out for Upper Egypt ... through the +desart [<i>sic</i>], the magician mounts on the wind +schirak ... in order to destroy them. When +<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>the unfortunate company are reduced to the last +extremity, he appears ... as a benefactor ... +on condition that they shall surrender themselves +soul and body to him, to Zatanai [Satan] +and the great Kokopilesobe [Lucifer]. The +caravan agreeing, presently arrives at his +retreat, and, instead of two or three hundred +beasts of burden, there are now above four hundred; +for all the merchants and other persons +are metamorphosed into brutes.... Though +he was handsome in his youth, his person is now +become a mass of deformity, as well as his mind. +His decrepitude is such as may be expected from +his great age, which exceeds a century and a half. +His human body is a mere chimera; he can, +however, assume every form he chooses, and nothing +discovers him but the sinister expression of +his eye.”<a id='r36'></a><a href='#f36' class='c011'><sup>[36]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>The other tale, <cite>The Robber Caliph</cite>, is farcical +and amusing—very different from <cite>Maugraby</cite>. +Haroun Alraschid, tired of elaborate court festivals, +escapes to his beloved streets of Bagdad +in the disguise of an Arab robber-chief, “Il Bondocani.” +His thirst for adventure is gratified +by the rescue of a white-handed beggar-woman, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>who proves to be the princess of Persia. She, +likewise, wanders disguised through the city, and +unwittingly rouses Haroun’s jealousy of a young +officer, Yemalledin. The latter and the princess +are imprisoned. Again the disguised caliph goes +forth, finds a poor old woman with a marvelously +beautiful daughter, Zutulbe, and sends the +mother to order the cadi to marry Zutulbe and +“Il Bondocani.” The old woman’s mystification, +the cadi’s haughty behaviour and his sudden +obsequiousness at the name of “Il Bondocani” +are amusing; and so are the sudden +preparations for the gorgeous wedding-feast and +the more sudden dispersal of clamouring neighbours +by the display of “Il Bondocani’s” ring. +The caliph discovers from the old woman’s talk +the innocence of her son Yemalledin, reveals his +identity, restores Yemalledin to honour, and +gives him the Princess of Persia. Of course all +live happily ever after. The dramatic effect +throughout is capital, for the reader is in the +secret and enjoys with Haroun the complication +and the resolution of the plot. There are many +admirable touches in dialogue, description, and +oriental setting. On the whole, the story deserves +to rank with the true <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>Following these pseudo-translations, three +small groups of imaginative oriental fiction deserve +brief notice: the heroic romances, the realistic +tales, and the eclogues. Of little intrinsic +value, they are interesting chiefly as evidence of +the diffusion of the orientalizing tendency. The +first group includes reprints and imitations of a +few of the heroic romances of the previous century. +<cite>The Beautiful Turk</cite> (1720) is another +translation of the French romance by G. de Brémond +translated as <cite>Hattige, or the Amours of the +King of Tamaran ..., a Novel</cite> (a <i><span lang="fr">roman à +clef</span></i> concerning Charles II. and the Duchess of +Cleveland), published Amsterdam, 1680, and +also in Vol. I. (1679 or 1683?), of R. Bentley’s +<cite>Modern Novels</cite>, London (1679–1692).<a id='r37'></a><a href='#f37' class='c011'><sup>[37]</sup></a> The +<cite>Bajazet</cite> of J. Regnauld de Segrais was reprinted +in 1725.<a id='r38'></a><a href='#f38' class='c011'><sup>[38]</sup></a> Mrs. Aubin’s <cite>Noble Slaves, or the +Lives and Adventures of Two Lords and Two +Ladies</cite> (1722?)<a id='r39'></a><a href='#f39' class='c011'><sup>[39]</sup></a> is Spanish in plot and character, +but contains minor personages,—Chinese, +Persian, etc.,—who recount their experiences. +In 1733 appeared a translation from the French +<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>of D’Orville: <cite>The Adventures of Prince Jakaya, +or the Triumph of Love over Ambition, being +Secret Memoirs of the Ottoman Court</cite>,<a id='r40'></a><a href='#f40' class='c011'><sup>[40]</sup></a> a romantic +tale. Jakaya, the true heir to the Ottoman +sultanate, flees in disguise from his brother’s +murderous wrath, has many adventures, marries +for love, and renounces ambition. The story +is imaginative, but is too frequently moralistic +and didactic. Yet, with others of the same type, +it is interesting as constituting the last feeble +wave of the receding tide of seventeenth-century +heroic romances. It is true that these romances +were read far into the eighteenth century; witness +Mrs. Lennox’s satire, <cite>The Female Quixote</cite>, +and George Colman’s <cite>Polly Honeycomb</cite>. But +by 1740 imitations had ceased to be written; +the wave had spent its force and ebbed +away in stories like <cite>The Adventures of Prince +Jakaya</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The second group referred to at the beginning +of the preceding paragraph, also of little intrinsic +value, is of even greater consequence as a touchstone +of the times. The realistic oriental tales +connect the orientalizing tendency, if one may so +call it, with the more profound and widespread +<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>tendency of the age toward realism. Appropriately +enough, the first great writer of realistic +fiction in the century, was also the first to +utilize—though very slightly—the oriental +material in a realistic tale. In <cite>The Farther Adventures +of Robinson Crusoe</cite> (1719),<a id='r41'></a><a href='#f41' class='c011'><sup>[41]</sup></a> the hero +travels through China, where he meets mandarins, +sees porcelain houses, and witnesses +“incredible performances.” In Muscovy he destroys +a village idol, escapes in safety, fights +Cossacks, etc.—incidents in the manner of +travelers’ accounts. In 1755 a feeble imitation +of <cite>Robinson Crusoe</cite> appeared, with some resemblance +to an oriental tale. It is best described +by the title: <cite>The Life and surprizing Adventures +of Friga Reveep, of Morlaix, France, who was +Sixteen years in an uninhabited Part of Africa +and how he met with a young Virgin who was +bannish’d and in what manner they liv’d together +and had two children, a Son and a Daughter, the +latter dying when she was six years of Age; together +with their surprizing Deliverance to their +own Country again with a faithful Relation of all +that past during the Time that he was there. +Written in French by himself and translated into +<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>English by Mr. Transmarine</cite> (1755).<a id='r42'></a><a href='#f42' class='c011'><sup>[42]</sup></a> Four or +five other members of this realistic group, though +comparatively unimportant, are worth notice, +because they are possibly founded on tales +brought home from the East by English merchants, +and thus bear witness to the growing +interest of England in the Orient. In <cite>The History +of Rodomond and the Beautiful Indian</cite>,<a id='r43'></a><a href='#f43' class='c011'><sup>[43]</sup></a> +an English merchant, saved from treacherous +natives by an East Indian girl, escapes with her +to England and marries her. <cite>The History of +Henrietta de Bellgrave</cite>[43] is the story of a girl, +who, shipwrecked in the East Indies, escapes +from pirates, leads a Robinson Crusoe life, and is +finally married to a “Banyan.” <cite>The Disinterested +Nabob</cite> (1788)<a id='r44'></a><a href='#f44' class='c011'><sup>[44]</sup></a> is an anonymous “novel, +interspersed with genuine descriptions of India, +its Manners and Customs.” The scene is laid +partly in India, and there is an unsuccessful +attempt at local colour. The story is in reality +a mediocre imitation of <cite>Sir Charles Grandison</cite>. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span><cite>The Asiatic Princess</cite>, by Mrs. Pilkington (1800),<a id='r45'></a><a href='#f45' class='c011'><sup>[45]</sup></a> +is oriental only in so far as the heroine is the +Princess Merjee of Siam and references are +made to Eastern treatment of slaves and to the +suttee. The princess is intrusted to an English +lady and her husband to be educated by travel. +Her instructors moralize on the differences between +oriental and English ways, and endeavour +to guide her by moral tales. Another realistic +story, <cite>The Female Captive</cite>, has far more life. +The entire title reads, <cite>The Female Captive, a +narrative of Facts which happened in Barbary +in the Year 1756, written by herself</cite>. London, +1769.<a id='r46'></a><a href='#f46' class='c011'><sup>[46]</sup></a> It has many evidences of being a +true story. The heroine, engaged to an Englishman, +sails for home from Minorca under the +care of a Mr. Crisp. Captured by Moors, she +passes for his sister, and later for his wife, to save +herself. After imprisonments and other hardships, +she is given an audience by the prince +of the country and thoughtlessly repeats unknown +words a French boy interpreter asks her +to say. They prove to be, “There is no God +but God, and Mahomet is his prophet,” and she +<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>is told by the prince that her saying them has +made her a Moor, subject to death by fire if +she prove renegade.<a id='r47'></a><a href='#f47' class='c011'><sup>[47]</sup></a> Through Mr. Crisp’s aid +she escapes to England. There she finds her +fiancé unworthy, and is finally married to Mr. +Crisp. The narrative is by far the best of the +realistic group. There are frequent appeals to +Virtue and Fortitude in true eighteenth-century +style, but the story is well told. Little direct +description of the narrator is given, yet from +what she does and suffers and what others do for +her, it is easy to picture her as a fair English +girl, shy and brave—an attractive heroine.</p> + +<p class='c007'><cite>The Fair Syrian</cite>, by Robert Bage (1787),<a id='r48'></a><a href='#f48' class='c011'><sup>[48]</sup></a> is +a long and tedious novel in letter-form, diversified +by the adventures of the English heroine among +the Turks, and extolling her devotion to Virtue. +<cite>The Anaconda</cite>, by “Monk” Lewis, in <cite>Romantic +Tales</cite> (1808),<a id='r49'></a><a href='#f49' class='c011'><sup>[49]</sup></a> belongs in certain respects to this +group, being a realistic story of the adventures +of various English people and natives in the +East in their struggles with an anaconda. Before +leaving these realistic tales, it may be well +<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>to mention <cite>The Unfortunate Princess</cite>, by Mrs. +Eliza Haywood (1741),<a id='r50'></a><a href='#f50' class='c011'><sup>[50]</sup></a> a fantastic tale called +by the author “a veracious history,” but bearing +every mark of invention. Extravagant in +describing magic storms and horrible monsters, +coarse, didactic, and bombastic, the story is +valuable only as exemplifying both the moralizing +and the fantastic tendencies under the +guise of realism.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The third group referred to above (p. 46) includes +the oriental eclogues, of which the chief +writers were William Collins, Thomas Chatterton, +and John Scott.<a id='r51'></a><a href='#f51' class='c011'><sup>[51]</sup></a> The four brief poems by Collins +published in 1742 as <cite>Persian Eclogues</cite>,<a id='r52'></a><a href='#f52' class='c011'><sup>[52]</sup></a> +and afterward (1757) called <cite>Oriental Eclogues</cite>, +include: I. <cite>Selim, or the Shepherd’s Moral</cite>, which +represents the shepherd Selim in “a valley near +<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>Bagdat” calling the shepherdesses to practise +various virtues; II. <cite>Hassan, or the Camel Driver</cite>, +being Hassan’s lament over the dangers of the +desert; III. <cite>Abra, or the Georgian Sultana</cite>, a +poem praising the pastoral life of the beautiful +shepherdess who married the Sultan and brought +him back occasionally to the happy shepherd life +for a vacation from the cares of state; and IV. +<cite>Agib and Secander, or the Fugitives</cite>. These +eclogues bear to the later and better work of +Collins a relation similar to that borne by Tennyson’s +youthful experiments in versification to +the poems of his maturity. Collins’s eclogues +are not remarkable as poetry, but they are superior +to Chatterton’s or Scott’s, and they possess +something of the delicate finish and the pensive +note characteristic of the author of <cite>The Ode to +Evening</cite>. Chatterton’s <cite>African Eclogues</cite><a id='r53'></a><a href='#f53' class='c011'><sup>[53]</sup></a> are +three in number: I. <cite>Narva and Mored</cite> (May, +1770), recounting the love of the priest Narva +for the beautiful Mored, and their tragic death; +II. <cite>The Death of Nicou</cite> (June, 1770), who +avenged his sister and slew himself; and III. +<cite>Heccar and Gaira</cite> (printed 1784; written January, +1770), the vengeance wrought by Gaira for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>the enslaving of his family. These poems are +characterized by crude imaginative force and +incoherent, almost Ossianic, fervor. John +Scott’s (1730–1783) <cite>Oriental Eclogues</cite> (1782)<a id='r54'></a><a href='#f54' class='c011'><sup>[54]</sup></a> +(I. <cite>Zerad, or the Absent Lover, an Arabian +Eclogue</cite>; II. <cite>Serim, or the Artificial Famine, an +East-Indian Eclogue</cite>; and III. <cite>Li-po, or the +Good Governor, a Chinese Eclogue</cite>) are early +examples of the influence of the movement we +have called the new scholarly movement. The +author refers to the “elegant and judicious +essay” of the “learned and ingenious Mr. +Jones” [<i>i.e.</i> Sir William Jones]; and, like +Moore and Southey, though with less assimilative +power, draws copiously from numerous +orientalists. Hence Scott’s use of oriental +material forms an interesting link between the +simple Johnsonian manner of orientalizing by +a few phrases—a manner exemplified in the +eclogues of Collins—and the elaborate orientalization +in the verse of Southey and of Moore.<a id='r55'></a><a href='#f55' class='c011'><sup>[55]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>Two years after the death of Scott, in 1785, +appeared one of the most interesting of all the +imaginative oriental tales: <cite>Charoba</cite>, translated +from the French, and published by Clara Reeve +in <cite>The Progress of Romance</cite>.<a id='r56'></a><a href='#f56' class='c011'><sup>[56]</sup></a> In addition to considerable +intrinsic value, <cite>Charoba</cite> deserves especial +notice as the direct source of Landor’s +poem, <cite>Gebir</cite> (1798). The story of <cite>Charoba</cite> is +briefly as follows: Gebirus, the fierce and gigantic +king of the Gadites, determines to marry +Charoba, queen of Egypt, and take possession of +her kingdom. His naïve motive is the hope of +being cured of an illness by the favourable climate +of that country. A prelude concerning +Charoba gives an account of her father Totis, +a cruel despot, who, like Balak, seeks to propitiate +God’s servant—in this case, Abraham. +Totis dies; Charoba, handsome, “ingenious,” +generous, and wise, is made queen, and receives +from Abraham a blessing, which distinctly foreshadows +her victory over Gebirus, and enhances +the artistic effect: “Great God, give her subtilty +to deceive her enemies and to vanquish all those +who shall arise to do her harm and to strive +with her for her land.” On the appearance of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>Gebirus, Charoba’s nurse, a great enchantress, +persuades him by rich gifts and by Charoba’s +promise to marry him when his task is done, to +build a city with the stones he has brought to +dam the Nile. He makes no progress, because +the nurse employs demons of the sea to tear +down the work each night. At last he learns +from a melancholy shepherd that every evening +a fair lady rises from the sea, overcomes the shepherd +in wrestling, and takes away a sheep; the +flock is diminishing, and he is pining for love +of her. Gebirus in his stead overcomes the lady +and wins as price of her freedom the secret of +circumventing the destructive demons and of +getting treasure from a magic cave. Thus he +finishes his city. Charoba, desperate, by her +nurse’s advice poisons his army, receives him with +royal honours, and kills him with a poisoned +robe.<a id='r57'></a><a href='#f57' class='c011'><sup>[57]</sup></a> Three years later she dies from a serpent’s +sting, and is buried in Gebirus’s city.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The scene of the death of Gebirus is dramatic. +The subtle nurse, throwing over his shoulders +the poisoned robe, sprinkled him with magic +water, and he fell at Charoba’s feet. The attendants +raised him up and seated him on a throne. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>The nurse said to him: “‘Is the king well tonight?’—He +replied—‘A mischief on your +coming hither!—May you be treated by others +as you have treated me!—this only grieves me, +that a man of strength and valour should be overcome +by the subtilty of a woman.’ ‘Is there +anything you would ask of me before you taste +of death?’ said the queen—‘I would only +intreat,’ said he, ‘that the words I shall utter +may be engraven on one of the pillars of this +palace which I have built.’ Then said Charoba, +‘I give thee my promise that it shall be done; +and I also will cause to be engraven on another +pillar, “This is the fate of such men as would +compel queens to marry them, and kingdoms +to receive them for their kings.” Tell us now +thy last words.’</p> + +<p class='c007'>“Then the king said—‘I, Gebirus the Metaphequian, +the son of Gevirus, that have caused +marbles to be polished,—both the red and the +green stone to be wrought curiously; who was +possessed of gold, and jewels, and various treasures; +who have raised armies; built cities, +erected palaces:—who have cut my way +through mountains; have stopped rivers; and +done many great and wonderful actions:—with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>all this my power and my strength, and my +valour and my riches, I have been circumvented +by the wiles of a woman; weak, impotent, and +deceitful; who hath deprived me of my strength +and understanding; and finally hath taken away +my life:—wherefore, whoever is desirous to be +great and to prosper; (though there is no certainty +of long success in this world)—yet, let +him put no trust in a woman, but let him, at +all times, beware of the craft and subtilty of a +woman.’ After saying these words, he fainted +away and they supposed him dead; but after +some time he revived again. Charoba comforted +him and renewed her promise to him. +Being at the point of death, he said: ‘Oh +Charoba!—triumph not in my death!—for +there shall come upon thee a day like unto this, +and the time is not very far distant.—Then thou +shalt reflect on the vicissitudes of fortune and +the certainty of death.’”<a id='r58'></a><a href='#f58' class='c011'><sup>[58]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>The other notable scene, the victory of Gebirus +over the sea-nymph, recalls the Siegfried-Brunhilde +story. The entire shepherd-episode, +the nightly destruction of the day’s work, and +the incident of the poisoned robe, are like classic +<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>legends. The strange demons of the sea, the +spell-bound statues, the enchanted cave, remind +one of many oriental tales. Magic in <cite>Charoba</cite> +is used with considerable skill, and is made subsidiary +to, and symbolic of, human subtlety. +It is the cunning of Charoba’s nurse, more than +her witchcraft, that wins the final victory, +and both kinds of skill typify the desperate resistance +of Charoba’s will to the determination of +Gebirus. But the characterization is faint, as +in other oriental tales; the characters are suggested +rather than wrought out. As a whole, +<cite>Charoba</cite> has a rude, tragic force far superior to +that of the average oriental tale. No wonder +it kindled the imagination of Landor.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The poet’s use of the material he found in +<cite>Charoba</cite> is characteristic of his peculiar genius. +He has kept the main features: the determined +wooing of the princess by Gebir, the building and +destruction of his city, the shepherd-episode, +and the manner of Gebir’s death. He has omitted +the prelude concerning Totis and Abraham, and +the sequel concerning Charoba’s death. The +poem closes with the death of Gebir, consistently +with Landor’s theme, which is not <cite>The History +of Charoba</cite>, but <cite>Gebir</cite>. For the same reason +<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>throughout the poem he has heightened the +character of Gebir into an heroic figure of almost +epic proportions. The Gebirus of the <cite>History</cite>, +a fierce and rude giant, who covets Egypt for +selfish reasons, gives place to a patriotic hero, +who invades Egypt in revenge for ancestral +wrongs, ambitious, brave, full of pity for his +brother Tamar and of love for Charoba, devout +and reverent to the gods, oppressed by impending +fate, yet undaunted. It is the figure of the traditional +epic hero. To throw it into bolder relief, +Landor has changed Charoba from the proud +queen to a love-sick girl, whose fear and pride +keep her from avowing her passion for Gebir. +Her silence causes Gebir’s death, for her nurse +Dalica, inferring that she does not love him, +proceeds, unknown to Charoba, to compass his +death. Dalica’s use of magic gives Landor the +opportunity of inserting one of his most striking +passages, describing her visit to the ruined city +and incantations over the poisoned robe. The +magic in <cite>Gebir</cite> is no longer the primitive enchantment +of <cite>The History of Charoba</cite>. The latter +recalls Biblical and oriental stories, such as the +<cite>Witch of Endor</cite> or the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>; but the +former is rather the magic of classical legend,—incantations +<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>like those in Theocritus and Homer. +The descent into the subterranean treasure-cave +in <cite>Charoba</cite> is replaced by the journey of +Gebir to Hades, where he is taught the futility +of ambition and the certainty of punishment for +evil-doers and of reward for the righteous after +death. The shepherd-episode is developed into +a story by itself after the manner of Ovid, with +descriptions of the nymph, the woods, the seashore, +the shepherd, and the wrestling-match. +In such ways the poem assumes an entirely different +aspect from that of the <cite>History</cite>. It has +lost the crude and primitive simplicity of the conflict +between the wills of Charoba and of Gebirus, +but it has gained in the heroic proportions of +the character of Gebir, in remarkable descriptive +passages, and in blank verse of great, though +uneven, beauty.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Of even greater significance than <cite>Charoba</cite> is the +<cite>History of the Caliph Vathek</cite>,<a id='r59'></a><a href='#f59' class='c011'><sup>[59]</sup></a> the bizarre masterpiece +of William Beckford, which holds among +all the oriental tales of the century a unique +<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>and deservedly high place. It is indeed almost +the only modern oriental story “which might +appear without disadvantage in the <cite>Arabian +Nights</cite>, with Aladdin on its right hand and Ali +Baba on its left.”<a id='r60'></a><a href='#f60' class='c011'><sup>[60]</sup></a> Although not a great book, +it is entitled to live chiefly for the sake of one +remarkable scene—the catastrophe in the Hall +of Eblis—in which the author, having laid +aside the mockery, the coarseness, and the flippancy +that reduce the first part of the book to the +level of a mere <i>jeu d’esprit</i>, shows himself capable +of conceiving and depicting an impressive catastrophe. +From the moment when Vathek and +Nouronihar approach the dark mountains guarding +the infernal regions until they meet their +doom, the note of horror is sustained. “A +deathlike stillness reigned over the mountain +and through the air; the moon dilated on a vast +platform the shade of the lofty columns which +reached from the terrace almost to the clouds; +the gloomy watch-towers were veiled by no +roof, and their capitals, of an architecture unknown +in the records of the earth, served as an +asylum for the birds of darkness, which, alarmed +at the approach of such visitants, fled away +<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>croaking.” They proceeded, and, “ascending +the steps of a vast staircase, reached the terrace, +which was flagged with squares of marble, and +resembled a smooth expanse of water, upon +whose surface not a leaf ever dared to vegetate; +on the right rose the watch-towers, ranged before +the ruins of an immense palace.” On the walls +Vathek beheld an Arabic inscription permitting +him to enter the subterranean abode of Eblis. +“He had scarcely read these words before the +mountain against which the terrace was reared, +trembled, and the watch-towers were ready to +topple headlong upon them; the rock yawned, +and disclosed within it a staircase of polished +marble that seemed to approach the abyss; +upon each stair were planted two large torches, +like those Nouronihar had seen in her vision, +the camphorated vapour ascending from which +gathered into a cloud under the hollow of the +vault.” They descended to be welcomed by +the malignant Giaour who had first tempted +Vathek, and to be led into a magnificent hall radiant +with light and fragrant with subtle odours, +but containing “a vast multitude incessantly +passing, who severally kept their right hands on +their hearts,” as if in agony. Refusing to explain +<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>this ominous mystery, the guide conducted +them into the presence of “the formidable +Eblis,” the fallen archangel enthroned on a globe +of fire.<a id='r61'></a><a href='#f61' class='c011'><sup>[61]</sup></a> He received them and promised them +treasures and talismans. But when they eagerly +followed the evil Giaour to an inner treasurechamber, +they heard from “the great Soliman” +himself an account of his ambitions, his evil +deeds, and his terrible punishment. He “raised +his hands toward Heaven ... and the Caliph +discerned through his bosom, which was transparent +as crystal, his heart enveloped in flames.” +To Vathek’s cry of terror the malicious Giaour +replied: “‘Know, miserable prince! thou art +now in the abode of vengeance and despair: thy +heart also will be kindled, like those of the other +votaries of Eblis. A few days are allotted to thee +previous to this fatal period; employ them as +<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>thou wilt; recline on these heaps of gold; command +the Infernal Potentates, ... no barrier +shall be shut against thee; as for me, I have fulfilled +my mission: I now leave thee to thyself.’ +At these words he vanished.” When the inevitable +hour came, their hearts “immediately took +fire, and they at once lost the most precious of +the gifts of Heaven—Hope.” Their mutual +passion turned into hate and they “plunged +themselves into the accursed multitude, there +to wander in an eternity of unabating anguish.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>The rest of the book does not begin to equal +the catastrophe. Perhaps, indeed, one should +not take it too seriously, but regard it rather as +an intentionally absurd and brilliant extravaganza. +Beckford seems to have begun merely +with the idea of writing a clever oriental tale +in the lighter manner of Voltaire and Count +Hamilton; but, as he went on improvising one +fantastic scene after another, the concept of +the Hall of Eblis fired his imagination and roused +his real genius. The plot follows the caprice of +the narrator in turning aside for grotesque +episodes, but is clear in its main course. It +begins with Vathek’s impious building of a marvelously +high tower from whence he studies +<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>astrology. Suddenly “a hidious Giaour” appears +at court and intensifies the Caliph’s evil +ambition for power and riches at any cost. +Vathek abjures his Mahometan faith, murders, +or at least attempts to murder, fifty innocent +children after winning their confidence; with +the aid of his mother, a horrible sorceress, kills +many of his faithful subjects; insults holy dervishes; +and finally violates the sacred hospitality +of the Emir Fakreddin by seducing his daughter +Nouronihar. Her ambition strengthens that +of Vathek, and together they go on to their inevitable +fate. Throughout the story premonitions, +ominous hints of impending disaster, are +skilfully used to prepare for the tragic outcome. +Charming scenes of quiet beauty—serene sunsets, +children playing with butterflies and flowers, +nightingales singing among the roses—are +almost invariably followed by some sudden +horror: an eclipse, streaks of blood across the +blue sky, a vast black chasm, and other terrifying +portents. The whole book gives the impression +of an extraordinary dream. On one occasion +Nouronihar, led by a strange globe of fire, followed +through the darkness. “She stopped a +second time, the sound of waterfalls mingling +<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>their murmurs, the hollow rustlings amongst the +palm-branches, and the funereal screams of the +birds from their rifted trunks, all conspired to +fill her with terror; she imagined every moment +that she trod on some venomous reptile; all +the stories of malignant Dives and dismal +Goules thronged into her memory; but her +curiosity was, notwithstanding, stronger than +her fears.” Such passages reveal the kinship of +<cite>Vathek</cite> with <cite>The Mysteries of Udolpho</cite> and other +“tales of terror.” An interesting distinction is +noticeable between the kind of horror present +here and that in tales like the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>. +In the latter it is more objective and lacks the +psychological, uncanny quality found in <cite>Vathek</cite> +and the others. <cite>Vathek</cite> is, however, a thoroughly +oriental tale of terror. The author +handles his rich store of oriental allusions, +names, phrases, and imagery, so easily that one +would hardly realize how great the abundance is, +if one were not confronted with the elaborate +annotations by the first editor, Henley. The +exotic brilliance of the various scenes is enhanced +by references to the angels Munkir and Nekir, +who guard the bridge of death; to incantations +and prayers; to the blue butterflies of Cashmere; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>the loves of Megnoun and Leileh; cheeks +the colour of the blossom of the pomegranate, +etc. Another element of charm in <cite>Vathek</cite> is +the style, admirably clear and forcible, though +occasionally grandiose. Written by Beckford +originally in French, the book retains in the English +version something of the French manner. +Always lucid, sometimes oratorical, frequently +crisp and witty, the style recalls that of Count +Hamilton and of Voltaire. Beckford follows +his French prototypes, also, in his spirit of mockery +and sarcasm, his fitful humour, and intentional +extravagance. When Vathek was angry +“one of his eyes became so terrible, that no person +could bear to behold it, and the wretch upon +whom it was fixed instantly fell backward and +sometimes expired. For fear, however, of depopulating +his domains and making his palace +desolate, he but rarely gave way to his anger.” +Vathek “wished to know everything, even +sciences that did not exist.” In one of the most +grotesque scenes the Caliph and all his court were +bewitched into kicking the Giaour, who had rolled +himself up into a ball, until he disappeared into +a chasm.</p> + +<p class='c007'>But Beckford’s mockery has frequently a repulsive +<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>quality; it is brutal as well as cynical, +and usually dwells with repellent emphasis on +things that appeal to the senses. His brief +and brilliant descriptions of sensuous beauty—colour, +form, fragrance, melody—are also too +frequently tinged with sensuality. This does not +preclude, however, the moralizing tendency; in +fact, the two propensities are often coexistent in +the oriental tales, as they are in other forms of +literature. Besides repulsive mockery and sensuality +the most serious defect in <cite>Vathek</cite> is one +we have noticed as distinctive of the oriental +fiction under discussion, <i>i.e.</i> lack of characterization. +The hero himself is a mere bundle of +attributes, self-indulgent, voluptuous, cruel, and +ambitious, not a living individual. Hence +even the impressive catastrophe lacks vitality +and fails to rouse either the tragic terror or the +tragic pity.</p> + +<p class='c007'><cite>Vathek</cite> has been called a sporadic and isolated +phenomenon in eighteenth-century fiction. In +one sense that is true; there was before <cite>Vathek</cite> +no book just like it, and there has been none +since. Yet it is far more closely connected with +its predecessors and successors than has been +generally acknowledged. We have already +<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>pointed out the obligations of Beckford to the +<cite>Mogul Tales</cite> and the <cite>Adventures of Abdalla</cite> and +suggested his indebtedness to Hamilton and +Voltaire. The <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> was an obvious +source of inspiration. The moralistic tales of Dr. +Johnson and of Hawkesworth, in which the hero is +punished for evil deeds, in all probability gave +suggestions to Beckford. In the scene of the Hall +of Eblis, <cite>Vathek</cite> is unique, and in a certain brilliance +of execution the book has few equals. Yet +far from being sporadic or abnormal, it is rather +an epitome of many characteristic features of +the oriental tale: fantastic in plot and brilliant +in colouring like the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>; weak in +characterization, marred by sensuality, and grotesque +in incident like many oriental tales; +witty and satirical like some of the fiction of Voltaire +and Hamilton; and tinged with the moralizing +spirit seen in Dr. Johnson’s tales. As a +“tale of terror” it exemplifies another contemporary +tendency of English fiction. The wealth +of oriental allusion drawn from books reflects +one more contemporaneous movement, the revival +of interest in the East by scholars like Sir +William Jones, and in so far foreshadows the +similar use of similar material by Moore, Southey, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>and Byron. To Byron,<a id='r62'></a><a href='#f62' class='c011'><sup>[62]</sup></a> moreover, as to lesser +writers like Barry Cornwall,<a id='r63'></a><a href='#f63' class='c011'><sup>[63]</sup></a> <cite>Vathek</cite> was a +direct source of inspiration.<a id='r64'></a><a href='#f64' class='c011'><sup>[64]</sup></a> For all these reasons +the book is especially interesting to students +of the literary history of the times.<a id='r65'></a><a href='#f65' class='c011'><sup>[65]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>Half-way between the imaginative oriental +tales and the moralistic is a small group including +such stories as <cite>Amorassan, or the Spirit of +the Frozen Ocean</cite><a id='r66'></a><a href='#f66' class='c011'><sup>[66]</sup></a> and <cite>The History of Abdalla +and Zoraide, or Filial and Paternal Love</cite>. The +former is one of the <cite>Romantic Tales</cite> of M. G. +Lewis (1808), and is in part a close translation +from <cite>Der Faust der Morgenländer</cite> by F. M. +Klinger and in part original with Lewis. It is +a heavy and uninteresting story concerning a +caliph, his brother, good and bad viziers, genii, +and fishermen. The spirit of the frozen ocean +comes to the good vizier Amorassan “to dispel +<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>illusions,” and shows him so much of the truth +about mankind that he is handicapped in all his +actions and exiled. He attains happiness only +after dismissing the uncomfortable monitor. +The moral is explicit: Do not endeavour to dispel +illusions, “let benevolence and reason guide +you: beyond that all is Destiny.” There is a +slight attempt at oriental colouring and at +fanciful descriptions, but the tale is of little +value. <cite>The History of Abdalla and Zoraide</cite><a id='r67'></a><a href='#f67' class='c011'><sup>[67]</sup></a> +(1750?) is recommended on the title-page as +“well worthy the perusal of every tender parent +and dutiful child”; and, as might be inferred, +is a highly moral effort. It is interesting chiefly +in that it is the possible source of a tale used by +Goldsmith to embellish <cite>The Citizen of the World</cite>, +and that it may, with <cite>Amorassan</cite>, be taken as a +type of the imaginative oriental tale so far removed +from purely imaginative fiction like the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, the <cite>Persian Tales</cite>, or <cite>Charoba</cite>, +as to be almost moralistic.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span> + <h2 class='c006'>CHAPTER II<br> <span class='c012'>THE MORALISTIC GROUP</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>If among the imaginative tales there are some +that approach the moralistic, on the other hand +there are among the moralistic tales at least +three thoroughly imaginative. Two are translations +of <i>contes</i> by Marmontel: <cite>The Watermen of +Besons</cite> and <cite>Friendship put to the Test</cite>; the third is +Thomas Parnell’s poem, <cite>The Hermit</cite>. Marmontel’s +two tales share the characteristics of his <cite>Contes +Moraux</cite> in general, “light, elegant, and graceful +beyond anything to which I can compare +them in English: their form is exquisite, and they +are sometimes imagined with a fineness, a poetic +subtlety, that is truly delicious. If the reader +can fancy the humor of some of the stories in +the <cite>Spectator</cite> turned wit, their grace indefinitely +enhanced, their not very keen perception of the +delicate and the indelicate indefinitely blunted, +their characterization sharpened almost to an +edge of cynicism at times, he will have something +<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>like an image of the <cite>Moral Tales</cite> in his mind.”<a id='r68'></a><a href='#f68' class='c011'><sup>[68]</sup></a> +In fact, as Mr. Howells suggests in the same essay, +“The <cite>Moral Tales</cite> of Marmontel are moral, +as the <cite>Exemplary Novels</cite> of Cervantes are exemplary; +the adjectives are used in an old literary +sense, and do not quite promise the spiritual +edification of the reader, or if they promise it, +do not fulfil the promise ... they are not such +reading as we might now put into young people’s +hands without fear of offending their modesty, +but they must have seemed miracles of purity +in their time, and they certainly take the side of +virtue, of common sense, and of nature, whenever +there is a question of these in the plot.” +Marmontel himself says that he has endeavoured +“<span lang="fr">de rendre la vertu aimable</span>”; and he adds: +“<span lang="fr">Enfin j’ai tâché partout de peindre ou les +mœurs de la societé, ou les sentiments de la nature; +et c’est ce qui m’a fait donner à ce Recueil +le titre de Contes Moraux.</span>”<a id='r69'></a><a href='#f69' class='c011'><sup>[69]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>Clearly, then, Marmontel stands half-way between +purely imaginative writers and weightier +<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>moralists like Dr. Johnson, who paraphrased +Horace:—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<span lang="la">Garrit aniles</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="la">Ex re fabellas.</span>”</div> + <div class='line in12'>—<cite>Sat.</cite>, II., VI., 76.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“The cheerful sage, when solemn dictates fail,</div> + <div class='line'>Conceals the moral counsel in a tale.”<a id='r70'></a><a href='#f70' class='c011'><sup>[70]</sup></a></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c014'><cite>The Watermen of Besons</cite><a id='r71'></a><a href='#f71' class='c011'><sup>[71]</sup></a> is a story of multifarious +adventures. The beautiful and virtuous +heroine, a young French girl, is slave successively +to a sultan, a prince, an old Cypriote, and a +Knight of Malta; preserves both life and honour; +and is ultimately reunited to her faithful lover +André, the Waterman of Besons. He, meanwhile, +has been hither and yon in the Orient, +as prisoner, vizier, and cook, escaping from one +farcical predicament after another. The scenes +change from France to Persia, India, and Syria. +The oriental setting is picturesque, if slight, and +assists in emphasizing the virtue and piety of the +heroine and in exalting the simple country life +of the boatman and his family in contrast to the +luxury and vain pleasures of the sultan’s court. +The story is cleverly told from introduction to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>close; and, except for some ostentatious moralizing +and a few questionable incidents, is thoroughly +attractive. In <cite>Friendship put to the +Test</cite>,<a id='r72'></a><a href='#f72' class='c011'><sup>[72]</sup></a> there is more moralizing and less art. It +is a commonplace tale of the self-sacrifice of a +youth who relinquishes his bride to his friend +on discovering their mutual love. The heroine +is a young East Indian, daughter to a pious +Bramin who worships Vishnu by the sacred +Ganges. The author endeavours to give additional +local colour by referring to “the custom +of flattering a widow before she is burned.” He +satirizes European bigotry by describing the +Brahmin’s tolerance toward other creeds; +makes one of his oriental personages criticize +European etiquette in the manner of the <cite>Lettres +Persanes</cite>; and praises simplicity and the ingenuous +emotions of nature quite after the +fashion of Rousseau.<a id='r73'></a><a href='#f73' class='c011'><sup>[73]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>Marmontel’s tales have been praised by no +less a critic than Ruskin as being “exquisitely +<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>finished.” With them, so far as careful structure +and polished style are concerned, <cite>The +Hermit</cite><a id='r74'></a><a href='#f74' class='c011'><sup>[74]</sup></a> of Thomas Parnell may not unreasonably +be classed. The poem is so well-known that only +a brief comment is necessary here. It is a good +example of the beauty and force given to an exceedingly +simple narrative by the power of style. +The tale was not original with Parnell, but was +an inheritance from the earlier stores of oriental +fiction given to Europe by the East during the +Middle Ages. Pope writes: “The poem is very +good.” The story was written originally in Spanish +[whence probably Howell had translated it +into prose, and inserted it in one of his letters].<a id='r75'></a><a href='#f75' class='c011'><sup>[75]</sup></a> +Gaston Paris mentions the same story, <cite>L’ange +et l’Ermite</cite> among the <i>contes dévots</i> of the Middle +Ages, and says it is “juif sans doute d’origine.”<a id='r76'></a><a href='#f76' class='c011'><sup>[76]</sup></a> +Wilhelm Seele<a id='r77'></a><a href='#f77' class='c011'><sup>[77]</sup></a> enumerates various versions and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>mentions that of Parnell as one of the accepted +sources of <cite>Zadig</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The opening lines of Parnell’s poem describing +the peaceful life of the hermit are characteristic:—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Far in a wild, unknown to public view,</div> + <div class='line'>From youth to age a reverend hermit grew;</div> + <div class='line'>The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell;</div> + <div class='line'>His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well:</div> + <div class='line'>Remote from man, with God he pass’d the days,</div> + <div class='line'>Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>A doubt of the wisdom and power of Providence +impels him to go out into the world to observe +the ways of God with men. A beautiful youth +becomes his companion and startles him by +committing strange crimes culminating in apparently +wanton murder. The hermit, in anger, +begins to rebuke the youth:—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“‘Detested wretch!’—but scarce his speech began,</div> + <div class='line'>When the strange partner seem’d no longer man:</div> + <div class='line'>His youthful face grew more serenely sweet;</div> + <div class='line'>His robe turn’d white, and flow’d upon his feet;</div> + <div class='line'>Fair rounds of radiant points invest his hair;</div> + <div class='line'>Celestial odours breathe through purpled air;</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>And wings, whose colours glitter’d on the Day,</div> + <div class='line'>Wide at his back their gradual plumes display.</div> + <div class='line'>The form ethereal bursts upon his sight,</div> + <div class='line'>And moves in all the majesty of light.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>The angel explains each apparent crime as in +reality a deed of benevolence; the hermit learns +to trust the mysterious ways of Providence and +returns in peace to his cell. The poem has been +called Parnell’s masterpiece; and is, indeed, an +admirable example of the <i>conte moral</i> in verse.</p> + +<p class='c007'>We suggested, above, two meanings of the +word “moral”: one, that of Marmontel, referring +chiefly to manners; the other, that of Dr. Johnson, +emphasizing conduct. It is the latter meaning +that best characterizes the numerous moral +oriental tales in eighteenth-century England—the +tales which we designate as “moralistic.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Even in the hands of Addison and Steele the +oriental tale was speedily utilized to inculcate +right living and was made into a story “with a +purpose,”—in a word, became moralistic. +The avowed aim of the <cite>Spectator</cite> and the <cite>Tatler</cite> +was to reconcile wit and morality, to entertain +and to preach, to hold the mirror of kindly +ridicule up to society, to smile away the follies +or vices of the world, and to present serene, temperate, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>and beautiful ideals of thought and of +conduct. Hence, even the fiction that frequently +constitutes a vital part of the essays is permeated +with the same spirit. This holds true of the +character-sketches of Addison’s real and imaginary +correspondents and acquaintances, including +even Sir Roger himself. It is true, also, +of the frequent allegorical visions and dreams, +of the numerous classical stories, and of the occasional +oriental tales. To these various forms of +fiction Addison turned, “rambling,” as he says, +“into several stories, fetching one to my present +purpose.” Attracted as the great essayists +were by the touch of extravagance, the strange +dress and colouring, the unfamiliar nomenclature +and oriental fancies in these tales, they felt constrained, +nevertheless, to apologize for such unclassical +material and to justify their use of it. +In the <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 512, on the fable as the best +form of giving advice, Addison tells the entertaining +story of the Sultan Mahmoud and the vizier +who pretended to understand birds’ conversation, +and introduces it by saying: “[There is] a pretty +instance of this nature in a Turkish Tale, which +I do not like the worse for that little oriental extravagance +which is mixed with it.” “The virtue +<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>of complaisance in friendly intercourse” is +“very prettily illustrated by a little wild Arabian +tale,” the story of <cite>Shacabac and the Barmecide’s +Feast</cite>.<a id='r78'></a><a href='#f78' class='c011'><sup>[78]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>The story of the <cite>Santon Barsisa</cite><a id='r79'></a><a href='#f79' class='c011'><sup>[79]</sup></a> is praised by +Steele for suggesting serious reflections and an +obvious Christian moral. <cite>Alnaschar</cite> from the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite> is used to conclude an essay +upon the transitoriness of human life and the +vain hope of worldly ambitions. Addison says, +“What I have here said may serve as a moral +to an Arabian fable which I find translated into +French by Monsieur Galland [and which is +marked by] a wild but natural simplicity.”<a id='r80'></a><a href='#f80' class='c011'><sup>[80]</sup></a> +In the story of the <cite>Persian Emperor’s Riddle</cite>,<a id='r81'></a><a href='#f81' class='c011'><sup>[81]</sup></a> +the question, “What is the tree that has three +hundred and sixty-five leaves, black and white?” +is one of the riddles in the story of the <cite>Princess +of China</cite> (<cite>Persian Tales</cite>). The same answer is +given, “A year,” but Addison affixes the reflection +that the leaves represent the king’s acts, +which look white to his friends and black to his +enemies. The “Persian story” of the just sultan, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>who executed a culprit in the dark, though +he knew that it might be his son, concludes an +essay on justice.<a id='r82'></a><a href='#f82' class='c011'><sup>[82]</sup></a> The riddle-like acts of the +sultan and his final explanation seem characteristically +oriental.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Two tales are apparently original with Addison: +the <cite>Story of Helim and Abdallah</cite><a id='r83'></a><a href='#f83' class='c011'><sup>[83]</sup></a> and the +<cite>Story of Hilpa, Harpath, and Shalum</cite>.<a id='r84'></a><a href='#f84' class='c011'><sup>[84]</sup></a> The former +Addison says he found “lately translated out +of an Arabian manuscript.” It has, he thinks, +“very much the turn of an oriental tale; ... +never before printed; ... [and doubtless will +be] highly acceptable to the reader.” From +such an introduction the reader naturally infers +that Addison invented the tale. The character +of the story confirms this inference. Helim, the +great physician, educates Ibrahim and Abdallah, +sons to the tyrant Alnareschin, who has killed +thirty-five wives and twenty sons. Abdallah and +Balsora, the daughter of Helim, fall in love; the +king covets Balsora; Helim gives her a sleeping +potion; and she wakes in a tomb with Abdallah.<a id='r85'></a><a href='#f85' class='c011'><sup>[85]</sup></a> +They escape past the guards in the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>guise of spirits and live happily in a beautiful +retreat on a mountain. After the tyrant’s +death Helim reunites Ibrahim and Abdallah, +and ultimately Abdallah’s son succeeds Ibrahim. +For oriental colouring Addison refers +to the seal of Solomon, Persia, Mahomet, etc. +His characters are the commonplace types: +the tyrant, the wise physician, the beautiful +girl, and others. He employs fanciful touches in +describing the black marble palace with its hundred +ebony doors guarded by negroes and its five +thousand lamps; and also in recounting the +lovers’ escape by moonlight as spirits in white +and azure silk robes. No direct moral is drawn, +but virtue is rewarded and vice thwarted. +The other moral oriental tale by Addison is +called by him “an antediluvian novel,”<a id='r86'></a><a href='#f86' class='c011'><sup>[86]</sup></a> the +<cite>Story of Hilpa, Harpath, and Shalum</cite>. He pretends +to have found it in Chinese records, +“the only antediluvian <i>billet-doux</i> in existence,” +and attempts to give verisimilitude by localizing +it in places with fictitious names that have an +oriental sound, and by using flowery language. +A humorous effect of mock antiquity is obtained +by exaggerating the age of the characters,—Hilpa, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>for instance, is a beautiful girl of +seventy,—and a touch of satire, by implying +that only an antediluvian woman would marry +for money. The feeble characterization—if +characterization it can be called—of the haughty +and contemptuous Harpath and the good and +gentle Shalum forecasts the later efforts of +Johnson and Hawkesworth. Although the tale +contains no explicit moral, it is used to illustrate +a “kind of moral virtue”—the planting of +trees. Antediluvians had an advantage over us +in that they outlived the trees they planted. +The lack of direct moralizing in these two original +tales is unusual: at least half the oriental tales +quoted or adapted in the Addisonian periodicals +enunciate an express moral lesson. The morality, +like the philosophy, is not distinctly oriental +in character. Industry and economy, health +and cleanliness, prudence and justice, kindly +“complaisance,” the art of giving advice and +seeking instruction, serenity in the face of calumny +and death,—it is the Addisonian code of virtues +in oriental guise.</p> + +<p class='c007'>In thus utilizing the oriental tale for moralistic +purposes and—as we shall see later<a id='r87'></a><a href='#f87' class='c011'><sup>[87]</sup></a>—for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>philosophic ends also, Addison gave the prelude +and the direction to two distinct tendencies of +the entire period.<a id='r88'></a><a href='#f88' class='c011'><sup>[88]</sup></a> The strength of the moralizing +proclivity may be illustrated from the translation +of the imaginative <cite>Mogul Tales</cite> of Gueullette. +On the title-page of the edition of 1736, +the anonymous English translator quotes:—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“In pleasing Tales, the artful Sage can give</div> + <div class='line'>Rules, how in Happiness and Ease to live:</div> + <div class='line'>Can shew what Good should most attract the Mind,</div> + <div class='line'>And how our Woes we from our Vices find;</div> + <div class='line'>Delighting, yet instructing thus our Youth,</div> + <div class='line'>Who catch at Fable—How to gather Truth.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>He then gives a prefatory “Discourse on the +Usefulness of Romances,”<a id='r89'></a><a href='#f89' class='c011'><sup>[89]</sup></a> in the course of which +he says that romances are useful in that they +“Engage Young People to love Reading,” +instil in them “Address, Politeness, and a high +sense of Virtue,” and teach them the geography +and customs of foreign countries. “Clownish +People, and Persons long doom’d to what is +<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>called Low-Life ... ought on their coming into +the World to be treated as Children and these +Books recommended to them. By them they +are led at once into Courts and into Camps, are +taught the Language of the Toilette and the +Drawing-Room, and are made acquainted with +those superior Sentiments which inhabit only +great Souls, and distinguish true Heroes from +the Vulgar. By turning over such Volumes, +Rusticity is quickly polished, and the Beauties +of a gentile Behaviour set in such a light, as +must attract a Heart not entirely Savage.... +The late Humour of reading Oriental Romances, +such as the Arabian, Persian, and Turkish +Tales, though I will not contend, it has much +better’d our Morals, has, however, extended our +Notions, and made the Customs of the East +much more familiar to us than they were before, +or probably ever would have been, had they not +been communicated to us by this indirect, and +pleasant Way. Now these are certainly very +great Advantages, and very valuable Acquirements, +even to Men; and many giddy young +Fellows have been, by amusing themselves with +such Trifles, taught to conceive clearly, and to +converse properly, in relation to Things which +<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>otherwise they would have known nothing +about.” The writer then proceeds to bring out +the moral which, in his opinion, is latent in oriental +tales, especially in this collection. “The +grand Moral of these ingenious Tales is contained +in this Sentence: True Virtue alone is capable +of standing all Trials, and persisting therein is +the only means of attaining solid Happiness. +The Author has illustrated the Truth of this +Maxim by a Multitude of Instances, all of them +probable, and some of them I have Reason to +think founded upon matters of Fact. Human +Nature is represented ... with strict regard to +Truth, and in a manner which cannot fail of improving, +as well as entertaining, the considerate +Reader. From the perusal of these Sheets, he +will have it in his Power to make a hundred +Reflections, which may produce very happy +Effects, if apply’d to the Regulation of his own +Conduct. He will, for Example, see how ridiculous +it is for a Man in Years to hope for Satisfaction +from engaging in new Amours, and +vainly flattering himself that Fondness and grey +Hairs will ever attach the Soul of a sprightly +young Woman.... The Misfortunes of the +Blind Man of Chitor, cannot fail of putting him +<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>who reads them, in Mind of the Danger there is +in making an ill Use of Court Favour, and of +studying nothing but the gratification of sensual +Appetites; what is supernatural in that Story, +is certainly wrought with great Strength of Genius, +and gives us a fine Idea of the Wisdom and +Justice of Providence, in punishing the Offenses +of Mankind,” and so on to the end. Similar +sentiments, though less explicit, are found in +Gueullette’s own dedication of the <cite>Tartarian +Tales</cite> to the Duke of Chartres. “The Book ... +is of the Nature of those which are improving +as well as entertaining. Though the Subject +appear light, yet it conduces to something +useful on Account of the Morality couched in +it.”<a id='r90'></a><a href='#f90' class='c011'><sup>[90]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>In addition to giving a general moralistic direction +to the uses of oriental or pseudo-oriental +material, Addison initiated the method employed +in writing moral oriental tales. The similarities +between the two oriental tales written +by Dr. Johnson for the <cite>Rambler</cite>, and Addison’s +original stories in the <cite>Spectator</cite>, are obvious and +afford another instance of Johnson’s well-known +emulation of the earlier essayist. In each case +<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>the result was insignificant in literary value.<a id='r91'></a><a href='#f91' class='c011'><sup>[91]</sup></a> +Yet the attitude Addison took toward this +oriental material and the use he made of it are +exceedingly interesting to the student of the +period, even though the actual tales he composed +are so few and so trifling. The same is true of +Dr. Johnson, and although his “clumsy gambols,”<a id='r92'></a><a href='#f92' class='c011'><sup>[92]</sup></a> +and those of his contemporary imitator, +Dr. John Hawkesworth, need not detain us +long, they must not be overlooked.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Addison’s touch is lighter, as might be expected, +while Johnson’s manner is certainly +clumsy; but in childish simplicity of plan, of +characterization, and of oriental colouring, such +a tale as <cite>Hamet and Raschid</cite><a id='r93'></a><a href='#f93' class='c011'><sup>[93]</sup></a> is not unlike +<cite>Hilpa, Harpath, and Shalum</cite>.<a id='r94'></a><a href='#f94' class='c011'><sup>[94]</sup></a> Hawkesworth +followed Johnson closely in these respects.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Ingenious Hawkesworth to this school we owe</div> + <div class='line'>And scarce the pupil from the tutor know.”<a id='r95'></a><a href='#f95' class='c011'><sup>[95]</sup></a></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>The only detailed description containing local +colour is the picture of Bozaldab’s son upon +“the throne of diamonds.” He is seated beside +a princess “fairer than a Houri” and is surrounded +by Rajahs of fifty nations. The hall +is adorned with jasper statues and ivory doors +with hinges of Golconda gold. A few customs +are briefly mentioned, <i>e.g.</i> pressing the royal +signet to the forehead in token of obedience, and +meeting at the well in the desert where caravans +stop.<a id='r96'></a><a href='#f96' class='c011'><sup>[96]</sup></a> Neither Johnson nor Hawkesworth attempts +to localize the action beyond alluding to +Bagdad, the plains of India, or “all the East.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>One curious characteristic differentiating these +two later essayists from Addison, is their far +more elaborate care to adorn their narratives +with what they style “the pompous language +of the East.” Orientalized phrases are found in +Addison’s tales, but are far simpler and less frequent. +Hawkesworth carries the mannerism +to extremes. “Amurath, Sultan of the East, +the judge of nations, the disciple of adversity, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>records the wonders of his life.” “As the hand +of time scattered snow upon his head, its freezing +influence extended to his bosom.” The +flutter of the Angel’s wings is like “the rushing +of a cataract,” a beautiful valley is “the Garden +of Hope,” a dog is “thy brother of the +dust.” “Despair has armed [his hand] with +a dagger.” Figures of speech in Biblical +phraseology are frequent, <i>e.g.</i> a smile “diffused +gladness like the morning,” “the straight road +of piety,” “the cup of consolation,” the “Angel +of Death came forward like a whirlwind.” In +Johnson’s tales and to a certain extent in Hawkesworth’s +<cite>Carazan</cite>,<a id='r97'></a><a href='#f97' class='c011'><sup>[97]</sup></a> the phrases are frequently +dignified as well as sonorous, but in other tales +by Hawkesworth and Warton the language is +absurdly “elevated,”—“the hoary sage”; “the +fatal malignity,” <i>i.e.</i> the cup of poison; “the +screams of the melancholy birds of midnight +that flit through the echoing chambers of the +Pyramids.” Such diction is noticeable in contrast +to the plain English of Hawkesworth’s +non-oriental tales, <i>e.g.</i> the story of <cite>Melissa</cite>,<a id='r98'></a><a href='#f98' class='c011'><sup>[98]</sup></a> +and indicates unmistakably that “pompous +language” was one essential in the eighteenth-century +<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>concept of the oriental tale. This is +the more curious, since in the genuine oriental +tales known in England at the time Johnson +and Hawkesworth were writing, such language +is the exception rather than the rule.<a id='r99'></a><a href='#f99' class='c011'><sup>[99]</sup></a> In the +<cite>Persian Tales</cite>, for instance, the collection where +one might expect to find figurative language, +reference is made once or twice to the nightingale +as lover of the rose, but figures such as the +following are noticeably rare: “I lie down upon +the thorns of uneasiness; the poison of your +absence preys upon my heart and insensibly consumes +my very life.” “Your forehead is like +a plate of polished silver; your brows resemble +two spacious arches; your eyes sparkle beyond +diamonds; ... your mouth is a ruby casket +that holds a bracelet of pearls.” The rarity +of such language is worth noting, for, as has been +suggested, the later pseudo-orientalists thought +they must fill their pages with such figures in +order to be “oriental”—a delusion satirized +by Goldsmith. “They believe,” he says, “that +in an oriental tale nothing is required but sublimity ... +<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>all is great, obscure, magnificent, +and unintelligible.”<a id='r100'></a><a href='#f100' class='c011'><sup>[100]</sup></a>.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Not only in language, but also in incident, +Hawkesworth is far more fantastic than either +Addison or Johnson. Obidah, in <cite>Obidah, the son +of Abensima, and the Hermit, an Eastern Story</cite>,<a id='r101'></a><a href='#f101' class='c011'><sup>[101]</sup></a> +follows a pleasant but misleading path, is overtaken +by a storm, and meets a Hermit who +preaches to him on the journey of life and the +necessity of following the right road. The <cite>Story +of the Shepherds Hamet and Raschid</cite><a id='r102'></a><a href='#f102' class='c011'><sup>[102]</sup></a> is equally +brief and unintricate. The fields of the two +shepherds, who lived on the plains of India, were +suffering from drought. A genius appeared +with the offer of gifts. Hamet asked a little, +steady brook; Raschid demanded the Ganges. +The moral is as prompt and complete as in +an old-fashioned Sunday-school tale. Hamet’s +grounds prospered; Raschid’s were swept away, +and—“a crocodile devoured him”! Hawkesworth +is not content with such childlike simplicity. +His <cite>Ring of Amurath</cite><a id='r103'></a><a href='#f103' class='c011'><sup>[103]</sup></a> is as ingenious as +it is moral. The sultan Amurath is presented +<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>with a magic ring by a Genius, who warns him +that the ring will grow pale and press his finger +whenever he sins. Amurath degenerates into +a cruel and sensual tyrant, vainly pursues Selima, +the daughter of his vizier, throws away the +painful ring, and is transformed by the Genius +into a “monster of the desert.” Captured +and cruelly abused, he finally saves the life of +his keeper, and in reward for this, his first good +act, is changed into a dog. In this form, entering +by chance the city of lawless pleasure, he +beholds the horrors of unrestrained crime, and +is poisoned. In his next form, that of a white +dove, he reaches—again by chance—a hermit’s +cave, where he beholds Selima telling her story +to the hermit. Amurath feels “the sentiments +of pure affection” and, in consequence, resumes +human shape. The hermit, who is the Genius, +preaches a final sermon and dismisses them to +reign over Golconda. They will now be happy, +he says, because they have learned to be wise +and virtuous. Equally fantastic and more fortuitous +are the events in the sketch, <cite>Transmigration +of a Soul</cite>,<a id='r104'></a><a href='#f104' class='c011'><sup>[104]</sup></a> a story told by a flea, a realistic, +disagreeable account of cruelties inflicted +<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>by men on animals. Sometimes Hawkesworth’s +tales are free from grotesque fancies, <i>e.g.</i> the +story of Carazan<a id='r105'></a><a href='#f105' class='c011'><sup>[105]</sup></a> the miser, who dreams he is +before the Judgment Seat and condemned to +eternal solitude. He awakens, reforms, and +gives a great feast to the poor. Such a tale is +commonplace, but in its simplicity is not entirely +unimpressive. In the majority of Hawkesworth’s +tales, however, the fantastic elements +predominate.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Of <cite>Almoran and Hamet</cite> (1761), the best known +of Hawkesworth’s tales outside of the periodicals, +much the same may be said. The story +is similar to <cite>Nouraddin and Amana</cite>, but is more +elaborate. The <i>deus ex machina</i> is a genius who +gives supernatural aid to the tyrant Almoran +in pursuing his evil desires. A magic talisman +enables Almoran to assume other persons’ +forms, prodigies apparently from heaven alarm +his opponents; yet each of his wishes is frustrated +by the virtuous acts of his brother Hamet +and the beautiful Almeida, until in the end he is +metamorphosed into a rock, and they are left +to reign in peace. The oriental colouring is thin +and the characterization feeble. Yet the tale +<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>won, for a time, great popularity, due partly to +the melodramatic interest, partly to the moralizing +tone.<a id='r106'></a><a href='#f106' class='c011'><sup>[106]</sup></a> The author discourses on the essentials +of good government, the duties of a king, +the question of immortality, and the idea that +the pursuit of pleasure alone defeats its own end. +In certain ways the story reminds one of <cite>Vathek</cite> +and again of <cite>Seged</cite>.<a id='r107'></a><a href='#f107' class='c011'><sup>[107]</sup></a> Almoran, like Vathek, +longs for the gratification of every desire. “If +I must perish,” said he, “I will at least perish +unsubdued. I will quench no wish that nature +kindles in my bosom; nor shall my lips utter any +prayer but for new powers to feed the flame.” +In answer to these words, the Genius appears, +“one of those delusive phantoms, which, under +the appearance of pleasure, were leading him to +destruction.” Like Seged, Almoran finds that +the deliberate attempt to be happy at any cost +ends in greater pain. Both tales represent an +idea that was persistent in the philosophy of the +eighteenth century, and was to find its most +<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>artistic expression in <cite>Rasselas</cite> and <cite>The Vanity +of Human Wishes</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Two other moral tales, Langhorne’s <cite>Solyman +and Almena</cite> (1762),<a id='r108'></a><a href='#f108' class='c011'><sup>[108]</sup></a> and Mrs. Sheridan’s <cite>Nourjahad</cite> +(1767),<a id='r109'></a><a href='#f109' class='c011'><sup>[109]</sup></a> similar to Hawkesworth’s stories, +likewise enjoyed considerable popularity. Nourjahad +narrates the experiences of a sultan’s +favourite, whose chief desires are inexhaustible +riches and “prolongation of his life to eternity to +enjoy them.” The sultan causes the apparent +fulfilment of these wishes, and Nourjahad rapidly +degenerates through selfish indulgence in +pleasures of the senses into an impious and murderous +tyrant. His acts are accompanied by +increasing unhappiness: the loss of his mistress, +Mandana, the ingratitude of his son, the desertion +of all his servants except one, Cozro, who +acts as his conscience, recapitulates his sins, and +demonstrates that, “by the immutable laws of +Heaven ... either in this world or the next, +vice will meet its just reward.” Cozro teaches +the repentant Nourjahad the happiness that +comes from generosity to the poor and suffering, +and the faith in one’s own rectitude and in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>Heaven, that makes man superior to death. +Nourjahad is finally brought to despise riches; +to desire to save Cozro’s life by losing his own; +and, when that is unavailing, to accept the prospect +of death rather than bribe his jailer. At the +last moment the sultan reveals to Nourjahad +that he has been disguised as Cozro, that Mandana +still lives and has impersonated Nourjahad’s +guardian genius, and that the whole series +of events has been arranged to test and to purify +Nourjahad’s character.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The story has a certain amount of interest. +The illusion is well sustained, and the dénouement +comes with considerable force. There is an +attempt at oriental colouring in the descriptions +of the omnipotent sultan, the forests and gardens, +the mourning in the city for the sultan’s death, +the bribery of cadi and jailers, and the urns full +of gold pieces and rare jewels in the subterranean +treasure-vault. But the colouring is faint and +serves only as a vague background for the story. +There is unity in the development of the central +idea of Nourjahad’s evil desires, their result and +his change of heart; there is, however, no real +characterization. The burden of the moral and +of the inflated, pompous diction is heavy, but +the narrative is clear and often vivid.</p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>In <cite>Solyman and Almena</cite> the oriental colouring +is paler even than in <cite>Nourjahad</cite>. “In the pleasant +valley of Mesopotamia on the banks of the +Irwan lived Solyman, son of Ardavan the sage,” +who worshipped the sacred Mithra. Names, +places, mention of a few oriental customs like +the suttee, occasional metaphors, suffice in the +eyes of the author to make the tale oriental. +His chief delight is to moralize and philosophize +in gentle and leisurely fashion. The story begins +with Solyman’s desire to travel in order to +gain knowledge of mankind and of God. It advances +slowly because frequently broken by +generalizations, by descriptions of places like +the “frowning” ruins of Persepolis and emotions +aroused thereby, and also by digressions on the +state of literature and manners in England. The +extreme sentimentality of the lovers and their +floods of tears often delay the progress of events. +The language used is eminently suitable. When +Solyman found that “to all the elegant graces +of female softness, she [Almena] added the virtues +of benevolence, his friendship for her was +heightened into the most refined affection.” +On the whole, although the story is stiff, tedious, +and over-moralistic, it has an attractive kind of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>purity and sweetness like the fragrance from an +old-fashioned garden.</p> + +<p class='c007'>In many respects similar to the fiction discussed +above, but superior in narrative directness +and force is the moral tale by Miss +Edgeworth, <cite>Murad the Unlucky</cite>. It was not +published until 1804,<a id='r110'></a><a href='#f110' class='c011'><sup>[110]</sup></a> and therefore would fall +outside of our study, were it not so similar in +character to the fiction under consideration. +The starting point of this story is a query by the +Sultan of Constantinople concerning the tale of +<cite>Cogia Hassan, the Rope-maker, and the Two +Friends Saad and Saadi</cite> in the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>. +The Sultan, like Haroun Alraschid, is amusing +himself by going at night, in disguise, through the +streets of his city. Recollecting the tale of <cite>Cogia +Hassan</cite>, he declares to his companion, the vizier, +that “fortune does more for men than prudence.” +The vizier takes the opposite view and cites as +instances two brothers, called Murad the Unlucky +and Saladin the Lucky. The brothers recount +the stories of their lives, and at the close +the Sultan says to his vizier: “I acknowledge +that the histories of Saladin the Lucky and Murad +the Unlucky favour your opinion, that prudence +<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>has more influence than chance in human affairs. +The success and happiness of Saladin seem to me +to have arisen from his prudence: by that prudence +Constantinople has been saved from flames +and from the plague. Had Murad possessed +his brother’s discretion, he would not have been +on the point of losing his head for selling rolls +which he did not bake; he would not have been +kicked by a mule or bastinadoed for finding a +ring; he would not have been robbed by one +party of soldiers or shot by another; he would not +have been lost in a desert, or cheated by a Jew; +he would not have set a ship on fire; nor would +he have caught the plague, and spread it through +Grand Cairo; he would not have run my sultana’s +looking-glass through the body, instead of +a robber; he would not have believed that the +fate of his life depended on certain verses on a +china vase; nor would he, at last, have broken +this precious talisman by washing it with hot +water. Henceforward, let Murad the Unlucky +be named Murad the Imprudent; let Saladin +preserve the surname he merits, and be henceforth +called Saladin the Prudent.”<a id='r111'></a><a href='#f111' class='c011'><sup>[111]</sup></a> Such a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>quotation readily shows how far removed from +the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> were the moralistic tales, +imitating, as they did, the manner only and +not the spirit of their prototypes.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Of Ridley’s <cite>Tales of the Genii</cite> (1764),<a id='r112'></a><a href='#f112' class='c011'><sup>[112]</sup></a> the +translation of Le Camus’s <cite>Abdeker, or the Art +of Preserving Beauty</cite> (1754),<a id='r113'></a><a href='#f113' class='c011'><sup>[113]</sup></a> and <cite>The Vizirs, +or the Enchanted Labyrinth, an Oriental Tale</cite> +(1774)<a id='r114'></a><a href='#f114' class='c011'><sup>[114]</sup></a> by Mme. Fauques de Vaucluse, the same +may be said with even greater emphasis. The +subtitle of the first, “Delightful Lessons of +Horam the Son of Asmar,” betrays the author’s +purpose, which proves to be to disguise “the +true doctrines of morality under the delightful +allegories of romantic enchantment.” The disguise +is thin, though the “enchantment” is +plentiful. Incantations, genii, sudden transformations, +flowery valleys, crystal palaces, +deserts, volcanoes, shipwrecks, are all lavishly +employed. The attempt to accumulate horrors +results once in unconscious humour: the description +of the “horrid” sorcerer, who lurks +in his lurid den, cherishing “his tube burning +<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>with the fœtid herb tobacco, filling the cave +with its poisonous odour.” But the narratives, +in general, are tedious, and the continual moralizing +is anything but “delightful.” <cite>Abdeker</cite> is +also unimportant but curious—an awkward combination +of an Eastern love story with recipes +for cosmetics and lectures on hygiene. The form +is a frame-tale in which a few minor tales, such +as <cite>Zinzima and Azor</cite>, are inserted. <cite>The Vizirs</cite> +is a fanciful, tediously moralized story of the +complicated adventures of several Eastern +princes and princesses.</p> + +<p class='c007'>One curious instance of the general propensity +to moralize is <cite>Dinarbas, a Tale, being a Continuation +of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia</cite> (1790).<a id='r115'></a><a href='#f115' class='c011'><sup>[115]</sup></a> The +idea of such a sequel was suggested to the author +by Sir John Hawkins’s statement that Dr. Johnson +“had an intention of marrying his hero and +placing him in a state of permanent felicity.”<a id='r116'></a><a href='#f116' class='c011'><sup>[116]</sup></a> +The author’s purpose is to show that love, +friendship, and virtuous, altruistic conduct bring +happiness. Rasselas is the hero of the book; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>Dinarbas is his friend. Rasselas quells a rebellion +against his father, the Emperor; is falsely +accused, imprisoned, and, by aid of Dinarbas, +liberated; succeeds to the throne of Abyssinia, +marries the sister of Dinarbas, and gives his +sister Nekayah to Dinarbas. The story closes +with their visit to the Happy Valley to set free +its inhabitants. Throughout the book the author +inculcates resignation, rectitude, courage, +usefulness, and other virtues, and endeavours +“to afford consolation or relief to the wretched +traveler, terrified and disheartened at the rugged +paths of life.” <cite>Dinarbas</cite> is obviously inferior to +its predecessor; its value is not literary but historical—as +an evidence of the desire to moralize +everything, even the philosophic tales.</p> + +<p class='c007'>It is not surprising to find in this period several +editions of the <cite>Fables of Pilpay</cite> [or <cite>Bidpai</cite>], +a version of the ancient <cite>Kalila and Dimna</cite>, +which had been known in England since the +Middle Ages. The moralistic note in addition to +the perennial interest of these stories made an +especial appeal to eighteenth-century readers. +In 1743 appeared <cite>The Instructive and Entertaining +Fables of Pilpay, an ancient Indian Philosopher, +containing a number of excellent rules for the conduct +<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>of persons of all ages</cite>. London, 1743. As +early as 1711 there had appeared a book of extracts: +<cite>Æsop naturaliz’d: in a collection of +diverting fables and stories from Æsop, Lockman, +Pilpay, and others</cite>. London, 1711; 1771.<a id='r117'></a><a href='#f117' class='c011'><sup>[117]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>The name of the minor moralists of this period +is Legion. It would be superfluous to do more +than mention briefly the titles of a few works: +<cite>Contentment, a Fable</cite>;<a id='r118'></a><a href='#f118' class='c011'><sup>[118]</sup></a> <cite>Hassan</cite> (178-?);<a id='r119'></a><a href='#f119' class='c011'><sup>[119]</sup></a> <cite>The +History of Arsaces, Prince of Betlis by the editor +of Chrysal</cite> (1774);<a id='r120'></a><a href='#f120' class='c011'><sup>[120]</sup></a> <cite>The Caliph of Bagdad, +Travels before the Flood, an Interesting Oriental +record of men and manners in the antediluvian +world interpreted in fourteen evening conversations +between the Caliph of Bagdad and his Court, +translated from Arabic</cite> (1796);<a id='r121'></a><a href='#f121' class='c011'><sup>[121]</sup></a> <cite>The Grateful +Turk</cite>, in <cite>Moral Tales by Esteemed Writers</cite> +(1800?);<a id='r122'></a><a href='#f122' class='c011'><sup>[122]</sup></a> <cite>Hamet and Selinda an Eastern Tale</cite> +in <cite>The Baloon or ærostatic Spy, a novel containing +<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>a series of adventures of an aerial traveller</cite> +(1786).<a id='r123'></a><a href='#f123' class='c011'><sup>[123]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>In the last half of the century several collections +of such oriental tales, chiefly moralistic, were +made. “Mr. Addison’s” <cite>Interesting Anecdotes, +memoirs, Allegories, essays, and poetical fragments, +tending to amuse the fancy and inculcate +morality</cite> (1797)<a id='r124'></a><a href='#f124' class='c011'><sup>[124]</sup></a> in sixteen volumes, contains a +great variety of oriental and unoriental tales +taken, usually without naming the author, from +the <cite>Rambler</cite>, the <cite>Adventurer</cite>, and other sources. +A similar collection is <cite>The Orientalist, a volume +of Tales after the Eastern taste, by the author of +Roderick Random, Sir Lancelot Greaves, etc., and +Others</cite> (1773).<a id='r125'></a><a href='#f125' class='c011'><sup>[125]</sup></a> Some of these tales are fanciful; +many moralizing. One is a direct and unacknowledged +translation of Marmontel’s <cite>Soliman +II.</cite><a id='r126'></a><a href='#f126' class='c011'><sup>[126]</sup></a> No authors’ names are given. The tales +are brief, uninteresting, and, with a few exceptions +such as <cite>Soliman II.</cite>, of little value. The tendency, +found in France earlier in the century, +to “moralize” oriental stories and fairy tales for +the edification of children is exemplified by a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>collection popular for several years after its publication: +<cite>The Blossoms of Morality. Intended +for the Amusement and Instruction of Young +Ladies and Gentlemen by the Editor of the Looking +Glass for the Mind</cite> (1789).<a id='r127'></a><a href='#f127' class='c011'><sup>[127]</sup></a> In this collection +are a few “oriental” tales, <i>e.g.</i> <cite>The Pleasures +of Contentment</cite>, a “tedious brief” story of the +good vizier Alibeg, unjustly exiled, discovered +contentedly living as a hermit, surrounded by +affectionate domestic animals. Recalled to office +by popular demand, Alibeg sheds a few tears +upon leaving his pastoral retreat, but returns +to the city, rules wisely, and is content always +and everywhere. The same collection contains +<cite>An Oriental Tale</cite>; <cite>Generosity Rewarded</cite>; <cite>The +Anxieties of Royalty</cite>; <cite>The Generous Punishment</cite>;—all, +tales with “oriental” traces;—and <cite>The +Beautiful Statue</cite>, a diluted version of the admirable +tale of <cite>Zeyn Alasnam</cite> in the <cite>Arabian +Nights</cite>, pitiably moralized. Finally, <cite>The Oriental +Moralist</cite> appeared, in which “<i>the Beauties +of the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments</i>” were +“accompanied with suitable reflections adapted +to each story,” by the Rev. Mr. Cooper (1790?).<a id='r128'></a><a href='#f128' class='c011'><sup>[128]</sup></a> +<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>The editor’s preface needs no comment: “During +a trip which I lately made to the Continent, +I accidentally met with (at an Inn where I had +occasion to halt a short time) a French edition +of the <cite>Arabian Nights’ Entertainments</cite>; having +no other book at hand I was induced to wade +through it. When I had finished ... it struck +my imagination, that those tales might be compared +to a once rich and luxuriant garden, neglected +and run to waste, where scarce anything +strikes the common observer but the weeds and +briars with which it is overrun, whilst the more +penetrating eye of the experienced gardener discovers ... +some ... delightful flowers. Full +of this idea, I determined to turn florist, +and to traverse this wild and unweeded spot +with a cautious and discriminating eye, ... to +cull a pleasing nosegay for my youthful friends. +Quitting the simile, I have endeavoured to select +a few of the most interesting tales, have given +them a new dress in point of language, and have +carefully expurgated everything that could give +the least offense to the most delicate reader. +Not satisfied barely with these views, I have +added many moral reflections, wherever the story +would admit of them. I have, in many instances, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>considerably altered the fables, and have given +them a turn, which appeared to me the most +likely to promote the love of virtue, to fortify +the youthful heart against the impressions of vice, +and to point out to them the paths which lead to +peace, happiness, and honour.” In accordance +with this purpose Cooper gave the following +new ending to <cite>Aladdin</cite>: “Sir, said the Sultana, +after she had finished the story of the Wonderful +Lamp, your majesty, without doubt, has observed, +in the person of the African magician, +a man abandoned to the passion of possessing +immense treasures by the most horrid and +detestable means. On the contrary, your majesty +sees in Aladdin a person of mean birth, +raised to the regal dignity, making use of the +same treasures ... just as he had occasion for +them, or when an opportunity offered of applying +them to the relief of the necessitous, or in rewarding +industry and encouraging the practice of +virtue.” After that, the instant execution of +the Sultana would have been, on the part of his +majesty, justifiable homicide. Hawkesworth, +in the concluding number of the <cite>Adventurer</cite>, confesses—hardly +to the surprise of the reader +who has perused the previous one hundred and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>thirty-nine essays—that he is a moral writer, +and that he has found it necessary, in writing +for “the Young and the Gay,” to amuse the +imagination “while approaching the heart.” +The editor of the <cite>Observer</cite> declares that simply to +say that he has “written nothing but with a +moral design would be saying very little, for it +is not the vice of the time to countenance publications +of an opposite tendency; to administer +moral precepts through a pleasing medium +seems now the general study of our essayists, +dramatists, and novelists, ... to bind the rod +of the moralist with the roses of the muse.” +Beyond such didacticism no moralist could go.</p> + +<p class='c007'>If we pause to consider the Moralistic Group as +a whole, our strongest impression is that of the +general paucity of literary merit. Aside from +Parnell’s <cite>Hermit</cite>, Marmontel’s <i>contes</i>, some of the +tales quoted by Addison and Steele, and the +<cite>Fables of Bidpai</cite>, there is nothing of noticeable +intrinsic value. The moral oriental tales composed +by Addison, Johnson, and Miss Edgeworth +are the least valuable part of their work, far +inferior, for instance, to the philosophic oriental +tales, <cite>The Vision of Mirza</cite> and <cite>Rasselas</cite>. Only +unusual genius can make an art of moralizing. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>Average writers,—like the authors of the fifteenth-century +morality plays or the eighteenth-century +moralists when they turned to oriental +fiction,—in their desire to express a universal +truth concerning human character or conduct, +eliminate so many individualizing traits that their +personages become mere abstractions. They do +not know the secret of embodying these abstract +ideas in concrete and appropriate types, and +hence their work lacks the beauty and universal +human interest of the <cite>Pilgrim’s Progress</cite>, the +<cite>Faerie Queene</cite>, or the parables of Scripture. +Yet the minor writers of any period—and the +same is true of minor works by great writers—frequently +reflect most clearly the current +opinions of their age.<a id='r129'></a><a href='#f129' class='c011'><sup>[129]</sup></a> For that reason the +Moralistic Group of oriental tales possesses a +distinct historical value.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span> + <h2 class='c006'>CHAPTER III<br> <span class='c012'>THE PHILOSOPHIC GROUP</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>The Philosophic Group of oriental tales is in +number far smaller and in literary value far more +considerable than the Moralistic. Here, again, +Addison was the guide, using several oriental +stories to illustrate philosophical ideas and +composing one famous oriental tale, or rather +sketch, <cite>The Vision of Mirza</cite>.<a id='r130'></a><a href='#f130' class='c011'><sup>[130]</sup></a> The <cite>Vision</cite> is +so familiar and so accessible that any detailed +account of it would be superfluous. Mirza, +from the topmost pinnacle of the high hills +of Bagdad, beholds multitudes passing over the +bridge of life, which spans a part of the great +tide of eternity. Sooner or later all fall from the +bridge and are borne out into the thick mist +toward either the islands of the blest or the dark +clouds beyond the rock of adamant. By means +of this vision, Mirza realizes the vicissitudes of +life, the certainty of death, the consolation of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>faith, and the mystery enveloping man’s existence. +It is Addison’s way of saying “From +the great deep to the great deep he goes.”<a id='r131'></a><a href='#f131' class='c011'><sup>[131]</sup></a>. +The form of the <cite>Vision</cite> is simplicity and clearness +itself. The language, lucid and direct, +displays Addison’s characteristic restraint in the +use of oriental ornament and imagery. The +literary value of <cite>The Vision of Mirza</cite> as an +oriental tale lies less in the specific detail of +oriental colouring than in the general impression +of beauty and of awe. “But instead of the +rolling tide, the arched bridge, and the happy +islands, I saw nothing but the long hollow valley +of Bagdat, with oxen, sheep, and camels, grazing +upon the sides of it,”—a serene English +valley, orientalized only by the name <cite>Bagdat</cite> +and the presence of the camels. And yet, if +the oriental elements were cut away from <cite>The +Vision of Mirza</cite>, the picturesque attributes +of the central metaphor, the bridge of human +<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>life, would go, for they are drawn from the Mahometan +tradition of the bridge “Al Sirát,” +laid across hell, “finer than a hair and +sharper than the edge of a sword,” over +which the souls of men pass,—the good to +the Mahometan paradise, the wicked to hell, +which is encircled by a wall of adamant. +Moreover, the quiet, cumulative force of one +slight stroke of oriental imagery after another +produces a sense of remoteness and stimulates +the imagination, especially when the phrases +echo Biblical cadences and thus attain an added +solemnity. “‘Surely,’ said I, ‘man is but a +shadow and life a dream....’ ‘The valley +that thou seest,’ said he, ‘is the vale of misery, +and the tide of water that thou seest, is part of +the great tide of eternity....’ ‘I wished for +the wings of an eagle that I might fly away to +those happy seats; but the genius told me there +was no passage to them except through the gates +of death.’”</p> + +<p class='c007'>The other philosophic oriental tales in the +Addisonian periodicals illustrate various themes: +the transitoriness of life, the subjectivity of time, +personal identity, and so on. Frequent phrases +suggest that in oriental thought and imagery +<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>what appealed most forcibly to Addison’s +reverent nature was “likeness to those beautiful +metaphors in scripture.”<a id='r132'></a><a href='#f132' class='c011'><sup>[132]</sup></a> One brief story is +told by him to illustrate the figure “where life +is termed a pilgrimage, and those who pass +through it are called strangers and sojourners +upon earth,” and to conclude an essay on the +value of contemplating the transitoriness of +human life. A dervish mistakes a palace for an +inn, and when the king asks an explanation, +replies by a series of questions leading up to an +admirable climax. “‘Sir,’ says the Dervish, +‘give me leave to ask your Majesty a question +or two. Who were the persons that lodged in +this house when it was first built?’ The King +replied, his ancestors. ‘And who,’ says the +Dervish, ‘was the last person that lodged here?’ +The King replied, his father. ‘And who is it,’ +says the Dervish, ‘that lodges here at present?’ +The King told him that it was he himself. ‘And +who,’ says the Dervish, ‘will be here after you?’ +The King answered, the young Prince, his son. +‘Ah, Sir,’ said the Dervish, ‘a house that changes +its inhabitants so often and receives such a perpetual +succession of guests, is not a Palace, but +<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>a Caravansary.’”<a id='r133'></a><a href='#f133' class='c011'><sup>[133]</sup></a> The oriental colouring here +is slightly stronger than in <cite>The Vision of Mirza</cite>. +The dervish, “traveling through Tartary,” arrived +“at the town of Balk, ... laid down +his wallet and spread his carpet in order to repose +himself upon it, after the manner of +Eastern nations.” The notion of the subjectivity +of time as set forth by Locke is exemplified +in the account of Mahomet’s journey to +the seven heavens in the twinkling of an eye,<a id='r134'></a><a href='#f134' class='c011'><sup>[134]</sup></a> +as well as by the adventures of the Sultan +of Egypt.[134] The latter story, drawn from the +<cite>Turkish Tales</cite>, is interestingly told, though +shorn of most of its picturesque details. From +the <cite>Persian Tales</cite> an unknown contributor to +the <cite>Spectator</cite> takes the story of <cite>Fadlallah and +Zemroude</cite>, and introduces it by a quotation +from “Mr. Locke” on personal identity and by +these remarks: “I was mightily pleased by a +story in some measure applicable to this piece +of philosophy, which I read the other day in +the <cite>Persian Tales</cite>, as they are lately very well +translated by Mr. Philips ... these stories are +<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>writ after the Eastern manner, but somewhat +more correct.”<a id='r135'></a><a href='#f135' class='c011'><sup>[135]</sup></a> The writer chastens the style +of his quotation still further by eliminating many +of the imaginative elements for the sake of the +“piece of philosophy.” The idea of perpetual +suspense is illustrated by reference not only to +the mediæval ass between two bundles of hay +but also to Mahomet’s coffin suspended in midair +by magnets.<a id='r136'></a><a href='#f136' class='c011'><sup>[136]</sup></a> The misery and ingratitude of +humanity is shown by a vision.<a id='r137'></a><a href='#f137' class='c011'><sup>[137]</sup></a> The conception +of the development of philosophy and +virtue in a man on a desert island, guided by +“the pure light and universal benevolence of +nature,”<a id='r138'></a><a href='#f138' class='c011'><sup>[138]</sup></a> is given as a quotation from an +Arabian author. It calls to mind Mrs. Behn’s +<cite>Oroonoko</cite> and his successor, the “natural man” +of the eighteenth century. In all these narratives +or fragments of narratives the tone is +speculative rather than directly didactic, but all +except <cite>Fadlallah and Zemroude</cite> are used to +point a moral. With one exception, all the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>philosophical and moral ideas in the twenty-nine +oriental tales found in these early periodicals, +from the opening number of the <cite>Tatler</cite>, in 1709, +to the last issue of the <cite>Freeholder</cite>, in 1716, +are either noticeably English in character or +else universal ideas, common to English and +oriental thought. The one exception<a id='r139'></a><a href='#f139' class='c011'><sup>[139]</sup></a> is the +doctrine of transmigration of souls, which has +been attributed to oriental philosophy. Yet +this doctrine is Pythagorean as well as oriental, +and the ultimate source, though possibly oriental, +is unknown. In general the philosophizing +in the periodicals is along the lines of +universal thought, expressed in a thoroughly +English and Addisonian manner.</p> + +<p class='c007'>In the philosophic as in the moralistic tales +the most famous of Addison’s successors was +Dr. Johnson. As suggested above,<a id='r140'></a><a href='#f140' class='c011'><sup>[140]</sup></a> the difference +in temperament between the two men is +clearly reflected in their periodicals. Addison’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>lighter touch and buoyant spirit are replaced in +the <cite>Rambler</cite> and the <cite>Idler</cite> by Johnson’s heavier +style and more uniformly serious purpose. And +yet the <cite>Rambler</cite> and its imitators have much in +common with the earlier group. The similarity +is especially noticeable in those parts of Johnson’s +work that are deliberate and conscious +imitations. Addison had used the oriental tale +among other devices to convey instruction +under the guise of amusement; Johnson did +likewise. The story of <cite>Ortogrul of Basra</cite><a id='r141'></a><a href='#f141' class='c011'><sup>[141]</sup></a> distinctly +recalls Addison’s oriental tales. The +scene is laid in Bagdad, and the narrative opens +with an account of Ortogrul wandering in “the +tranquillity of meditation” along the streets. +He is taught the value of slow and constant +industry by a dream, in which, like Mirza, he +beholds a vision from a hilltop. The genius in +<cite>Mirza</cite> is replaced by the father of Ortogrul, who +directs the latter’s gaze to an ineffectual torrent +and to a slow but sure “rivulet,” and points the +moral. For local colour in these tales Johnson +is satisfied with vague allusions such as that to +the vizier’s return from the divan to spacious +apartments in his palace, hung with golden +<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>tapestry and carpeted with silk. Dates, places, +and oriental customs are likewise indistinct. +“In the reign of Zenghis Can,” “Samarcand,” +“Arabia,” “the emirs and viziers, the sons of +valour and of wisdom, that stand at the corners +of the Indian throne, to assist the Councils,”—such +brief references suffice for Johnson’s purpose. +Like Addison, too, Johnson feels that an +oriental tale demands elevated and dignified +diction, Biblical imagery, and the abstract, +general term instead of the concrete.</p> + +<p class='c007'>But there the likeness ends, for Johnson’s +early oriental tales, far more than any of his +other writings, are embellished with peculiarly +Johnsonian Latin derivatives and resounding +antitheses. Sometimes the style gains by these +means the added force and dignity purposed by +the author. “In the height of my power, I +said to defamation, who will hear thee? and +to artifice, what canst thou perform?”... +“The clouds of sorrow gathered round his +head.” But often this attempt at rhetorical +ornamentation results in bombast and unintentional +humour: “The curls of beauty fell from +his head;” “the voracious grave is howling for +its prey;” “he practised the smile of universal +<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>courtesy;” “a frigorific torpor encroaches upon +my veins.” In <cite>Ortogrul</cite>, Johnson goes even to +this extreme in describing the rich vizier’s life: +“The dishes of Luxury cover his table, the voice +of Harmony lulls him in his bowers; he breathes +the fragrance of the groves of Java, and sleeps +upon the down of the cygnets of Ganges.” +Grandiloquence of this sort takes the place of +detail in description. When Johnson wishes to +depict an Eastern princess, he portrays her +“sitting on a throne, attired in the robe of +royalty, and shining with the jewels of Golconda; +command sparkled in her eyes and +dignity towered on her forehead.” Such a +description is eminently in keeping with Johnson’s +didactic purpose. Didactic in the <cite>Rambler</cite> +Johnson always is. “Instruction,” in Boswell’s +words, “is the predominant purpose of the +<cite>Rambler</cite>,”<a id='r142'></a><a href='#f142' class='c011'><sup>[142]</sup></a>—instruction, whether directly inculcating +morality, as in the moralistic tales, or +indirectly setting forth some philosophic idea +connected with human conduct, as in the six +so-called philosophic tales. Yet, even in the +latter group, Johnson’s speculation is always +<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>concerned with questions of vital interest to +mankind, and hence in the deepest sense moral +questions. In all of his fiction, moralistic teachings +are present, whether explicit or implicit, +although less prominent than the philosophic +ideas.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Frequently pompous in diction and artificial +in manner, these stories, nevertheless, do not +lack a certain impressive simplicity in their +presentation of various aspects of Johnson’s +earnest philosophy of life. His convictions of +the vanity of accumulating riches, expecting +gratitude, seeking happiness, desiring fame, +forming a definite plan for one’s life, are all +found here and are all variations on his favourite +theme: the vanity of human wishes. But, even +in these short stories, Johnson reveals two other +equally characteristic aspects of his philosophy: +religious faith, and brave insistence on duty. +<cite>Nouradin the Merchant and his son Almamoulin</cite>, +which forms the whole of the <cite>Rambler</cite>, No. 120, +is prefaced by quotations on virtue, and teaches +the vanity of gathering riches. <cite>Morad the son +of Hanuth and his son Abonzaid</cite><a id='r143'></a><a href='#f143' class='c011'><sup>[143]</sup></a> sets forth the +vanity of labours that wish to be rewarded by +<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>gratitude, and concludes that the only satisfactory +aim of life is to please God. <cite>Seged, Lord +of Ethiopia, and his efforts to be happy</cite>,<a id='r144'></a><a href='#f144' class='c011'><sup>[144]</sup></a> is obviously +an earlier draft of <cite>Rasselas</cite>.<a id='r145'></a><a href='#f145' class='c011'><sup>[145]</sup></a> Seged, +having fulfilled all his duties as king, determined +to retire for ten days from the cares of state, in +order to be happy for that short interval. He +commanded “the house of pleasure built in an +island of the Lake Dambia, to be prepared,” +and endeavoured to gratify every desire. But +the first day there were so many pleasures to +choose from that the day slipped by without a +choice; and the other days were marred by +accidents, a bad dream, tyranny, envy among +those whom he sought to please, by the memory +of a defeat, and finally by the death of his +daughter. Hence the king concluded: “Let no +man ever presume to say, ‘This day shall be +a day of happiness.’” The narrative is better +<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>than in the other tales; it possesses more unity +and more interest. The oriental setting is +slight, the descriptions are vague, and emphasis +is thrown upon the unadorned theme. +The strength of the story lies in the force of +this theme and the sympathetic account of +Seged’s successive feelings. It is interesting to +find Johnson meditating on these questions seven +years before writing <cite>Rasselas</cite>. Two other tales, +published after <cite>Rasselas</cite>, treat of similar ideas. +<cite>Gelalledin</cite><a id='r146'></a><a href='#f146' class='c011'><sup>[146]</sup></a> is like a part of the story of Imlac +in <cite>Rasselas</cite>. Gelalledin, the learned youth, refused +a professor’s chair in hopes of returning +to his native city “to dazzle and instruct,” but +when he returned, was unnoticed and ignored. +<cite>Omar, Son of Hassan</cite>,<a id='r147'></a><a href='#f147' class='c011'><sup>[147]</sup></a> the good and wise servant +of the caliph, tells the plan he made in youth +for his life: ten years study; ten years +travel; marriage, and retirement from court. +But he “trifled away the years of improvement,” +and each part of his plan was frustrated. +Terrestrial happiness is short, and it is vanity to +plan life according to one’s wishes,—surely an +echo of the theme of <cite>Rasselas</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The imitators of Johnson apparently found it +<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>easier to write moralistic than philosophic tales. +At least this is true of the editor of the <cite>Adventurer</cite>, +who was so voluminous a moralist. Only +one of his stories, <cite>Almet the Dervise</cite>,<a id='r148'></a><a href='#f148' class='c011'><sup>[148]</sup></a> can be +called philosophic, and even here the author +moralizes throughout. The title given the +essay is <cite>The Value of Life fixed by Hope and +Fear and therefore dependent upon the Will: an +Eastern story</cite>. Almet is taught by an angel, +who shows him in a vision a fair landscape and +an “austere” scene and comments on them. +Like Johnson, Hawkesworth employs oriental +colouring sparingly. He exerts his imagination +upon the picture of the dervish Almet watching +the sacred lamp in the sepulcher of the prophet +and, after the angel has vanished, finding +himself at the temple porch in the serene +twilight. One other imitation of Johnson’s +philosophic tales is Goldsmith’s <cite>Asem, an +Eastern Tale: or a vindication of the wisdom of +Providence in the moral government of the world</cite>.<a id='r149'></a><a href='#f149' class='c011'><sup>[149]</sup></a> +<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>Asem is taught by the customary vision and +Genius. Goldsmith’s fancy, not content with +the conventional introduction, pictures the +Genius walking over the lake and guiding Asem +to a beautiful country beneath its depths. The +lucid style and the occasional satire, characteristic +of the author, serve to distinguish this +sketch from those of his predecessors.</p> + +<p class='c007'>We have spoken of the development of the +philosophic oriental tale from Addison’s <cite>Vision +of Mirza</cite> on through Johnson’s work in the +<cite>Rambler</cite> and the <cite>Idler</cite> to Hawkesworth’s and +Goldsmith’s imitations. There remain to be +considered the translations from Voltaire, especially +<cite>Zadig</cite>, and the most important philosophical +oriental tale of the period, Johnson’s +<cite>Rasselas</cite>. But before examining these books, +which carry on the philosophizing tendency to +its culmination, it may be well to mention two +works, somewhat apart from the general current, +yet warranting a brief digression.</p> + +<p class='c007'>One is a pseudo-translation: <cite>The Bonze, or Chinese +Anchorite</cite>;<a id='r150'></a><a href='#f150' class='c011'><sup>[150]</sup></a> the other, a genuine translation +from the Arabic, <cite>The Life of Hai Ebn Yokdhan</cite>. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>The full title of the latter reads:<a id='r151'></a><a href='#f151' class='c011'><sup>[151]</sup></a> <cite>The Improvement +of Human Reason, Exhibited in the Life of +Hai Ebn Yokdhan: Written in Arabick above +500 years ago, by Abu Jaafar Ebn Tophail, In +which is demonstrated, By what Methods one +may, by the meer Light of Nature, attain the +Knowledg of things Natural and Supernatural; +more particularly the Knowledg of God, and the +Affairs of another Life, Illustrated with proper +Figures. Newly Translated from the Original +Arabick, by Simon Ockley, A. M. Vicar of +Swavesey in Cambridgshire. With an Appendix, +In which the Possibility of Man’s attaining the +True Knowledge of God, and Things necessary to +Salvation, without Instruction, is briefly consider’d</cite>. +London ... 1708. The bookseller’s +preface to the reader summarizes the author’s +purpose and outlines the story with sufficient +<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>clearness: “The Design of the Author (who +was a Mahometan Philosopher) is to shew how +Humane Reason may, by Observation and +Experience, arrive at the Knowledge of Natural +Things, and from thence to Supernatural; particularly +the Knowledge of God and a Future +State. And in order to [do] this, he supposes a +Person brought up by himself, where he was +altogether destitute of any Instruction, but +what he could get from his own Observation. +He lays the scene in some Fortunate Island, +situate under the Equinoctial; where he supposes +this Philosopher, either to have been bred +(according to <cite>Avicen’s</cite> Hypothesis, who conceiv’d +a Possibility of a Man’s being form’d by +the Influence of the Planets upon Matter rightly +disposed) without either Father or Mother; or +else expos’d in his Infancy, and providentially +suckled by a Roe. Not that our Author +believ’d any such matter, but only having design’d +to contrive a convenient place for his +Philosopher, so as to leave him to Reason by +himself, and make his Observations without any +Guide.... Then he shews by what Steps ... +he advanc’d ... till at last he perceived +the Necessity of acknowledging an Infinite, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>Eternal, Wise Creator, and also the Immateriality +and Immortality of his own Soul, and that +its Happiness consisted only in a continued +Conjunction with this supream Being.” The +bookseller continues with a comment to which +the reader will assent: “The Matter of this Book +is curious.” One interesting description of the +solitary hero’s method of making himself comfortable +on the island recalls <cite>Robinson Crusoe</cite>, +and as this book appeared only eleven years +before <cite>Crusoe</cite>, the passage may possibly have +been seen by Defoe. Hai Ebn Yokdhan, by the +time he was twenty-one years old, “had made +abundance of pretty Contrivances. He made +himself both Cloaths and Shoes of the Skins of +such Wild Beasts as he had dissected. His +thread was made of Hair, and of the Bark of ... +Plants.... He made awls of sharp +Thorns.... He learn’d the Art of Building +from the Observations he made upon the +Swallows Nests.... He ... made a Door ... +of Canes twisted together ... etc.”<a id='r152'></a><a href='#f152' class='c011'><sup>[152]</sup></a> One +other passage of interest is the account of his +mystical trance.<a id='r153'></a><a href='#f153' class='c011'><sup>[153]</sup></a> He prepared himself by abstinence +and by “Imitation of the Heavenly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>Bodies” in three respects, first in exercising +beneficence toward animals and plants, second +in keeping himself “clear, bright, and pure” like +the light, third in “practising a circular motion” +until dizziness weakened his bodily faculties and +purified his spirit.<a id='r154'></a><a href='#f154' class='c011'><sup>[154]</sup></a> By such means and by +constant meditation, he at last attained to the +sight of perfect vision in the highest sphere. +There he beheld the reflection of the divine +glory, the perfection of beauty, splendour, and +joy; and after that, the successive reflections of +the divine essence in the other heavenly spheres. +Thus he came to realize the dependence of all +created things on the “one, true, necessary, +self-existent” First Cause: and saw that this +world followed “the Divine World as a Shadow +does the Body.” The story concludes with an +account of the friendship formed by the philosopher +with a holy man who came to the island, +and of their “serving God ... till they died.” +In addition to the slight resemblance to <cite>Robinson +Crusoe</cite> noted above, the book possesses interest +as a link between the work of seventeenth-century +orientalists like Dr. Pococke<a id='r155'></a><a href='#f155' class='c011'><sup>[155]</sup></a> and the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>oriental tales of our period; and also as an +example of the exaltation of the “natural man” +found earlier in <cite>Oroonoko</cite> and later in the works +of Rousseau.</p> + +<p class='c007'><cite>The Bonze</cite> is more curious but less valuable. +It is an odd medley of moralistic and philosophic +rhapsodies on all sorts of subjects,—the +Trinity, Lucifer, Adam’s fall,—combined +with sentimental and coarse love-tales concerning +the Chinese prince Zangola’s transmigrations, +and recounted in a vision to the sage +Confuciango. The style is so atrocious as to be +amusing, <i>e.g.</i> the “gay pomposity” of the peacock’s +“beauteous tail,” “horrific scenes,” “old +dreadful tygers” [<i>sic</i>], the “elegance of heaven,” +and “the hideous tenebrosity of hell.” “Elegance” +of every kind is frequent. “Never before +was my heart susceptible of such elegant feelings.” +“Methought mortality fell from me +like the catterpiller’s [<i>sic</i>] form, when he becomes +invested with elegance, and shaking his +golden wings, disdaining earth, he flies exulting +towards heaven.” But when the writer goes so +far as to describe “a sunrise, orientally decorated,” +one is irresistibly reminded of Fielding’s +cheerful parodies of flamboyant preambles +<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>in, for example, the opening paragraph of +Chap. II., Book IV., of <cite>Tom Jones</cite>: “A short +hint of what we can do in the sublime, and +a description of Miss Sophia Western.” <cite>The +Bonze</cite> in extravagance thus occupies a unique, +if insignificant, place among the philosophic +tales. Like them it discusses questions such as +the origin of evil and the search for happiness, +attempts but little local colour, and regards +the East as “romantic” and “barbaric,”—words +at that time almost synonymous. “He +received me in as kind a manner as it is possible +for a mere barbarian.” “There was a romantic +palace in the free taste of China, which, tied +to no partial rules, admitted all the beauties of +architecture.” The attitude of the writer is one +of apologetic admiration of objects and ideas so +foreign to eighteenth-century standards. But +<cite>The Bonze</cite>, despite its aim to “mingle instruction +with delight in hope to gain the smile of approbation,” +stands at one side in any general view +of the philosophic oriental tale, and serves to +bring into greater prominence the real value of +such works as Voltaire’s <cite>Zadig</cite> and Johnson’s +<cite>Rasselas</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c007'>In France, the <cite>Conte Philosophique</cite>, founded +<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>by Voltaire, had been one of the most notable +imitations of the genuine oriental tale. In +1749, only a year after the first complete French +edition appeared, <cite>Zadig</cite><a id='r156'></a><a href='#f156' class='c011'><sup>[156]</sup></a> was translated into +English. The popularity it attained in England +was due in part to the fact that one of its +chapters, <cite>The Hermit</cite>, was based on the poem +by Thomas Parnell,<a id='r157'></a><a href='#f157' class='c011'><sup>[157]</sup></a> in part to the fame of +Voltaire, and chiefly to the character of the +book itself. Abounding in wit, humour, and +philosophy,—qualities enhanced by Voltaire’s +keen and brilliant style,—<cite>Zadig</cite> has a permanent +value, visible even through the medium +of translation. There is a slight but sufficiently +firm thread of story,—the love of Zadig for the +queen,—and on this are strung Zadig’s separate +and vari-coloured adventures. The discovery +of the king’s lost palfrey by circumstantial +evidence, Zadig’s pretense at worshiping +candles to rebuke his idolatrous master, the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>frustrated attempt of Zadig’s affectionate wife +to cut off his nose, his rescue from death by +a parrot’s finding his verses, the fantastic scene +of the maidens in a meadow searching for a +basilisk,—such incidents are cleverly told, and +even in the English version show something of +the wit of the original French. The main story +has a good climax and a happy dénouement. +Voltaire’s clever manipulation of oriental colouring +apparently contributed not a little to the +immediate popularity of both the French and +the English versions. By the time <cite>Zadig</cite> appeared,<a id='r158'></a><a href='#f158' class='c011'><sup>[158]</sup></a> +the European critic of manners and +thought in the disguise of an Oriental had become +a conventional type in the oriental tale.<a id='r159'></a><a href='#f159' class='c011'><sup>[159]</sup></a> +<cite>Zadig</cite> is a variant on the theme of the <cite>Lettres +Persanes</cite>. Voltaire is a more subtle satirist in +that he does not locate his Oriental in Paris, +but in Babylon. Hence, like Swift’s satires, Voltaire’s +criticisms of European customs, because +ostensibly remote and not aimed at Europe, are +the more penetrating. “That show of insignificant +words which in Babylon they called +polite conversation.”... “They would not +<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>suffer him to open his mouth in his own vindication. +His pocket-book was sufficient evidence +against him. So strict were the Babylonish +laws.” Zadig is, of course, Voltaire +himself, and the other characters with fanciful +“oriental” names—Arimanzes, Astarte, Seloc—are +said to be Voltaire’s court enemies and +friends. Like the similar device in the pastoral, +this gave piquancy to the narrative. Voltaire’s +twofold aim, to be the entertaining story-teller +and the satirical philosopher, is discernible on +every page, and his light and facile use of oriental +setting is not unlike Goldsmith’s in <cite>The +Citizen of the World</cite>. He lays the scene in +Babylon or Egypt, the Indies or Memphis, and +mentions Siberia and Scythia to add to the +sense of remoteness. His characters wear turbans +and sandals, travel on the “swiftest dromedaries” +and camels, are sold as slaves to an +Arab merchant, are threatened with the bowstring +and poisoned cup. The “fair coquet” +insists that the old and gouty chief Magus shall +“dance a saraband” before her, and the beautiful +Almona is rescued from the suttee by the +ability of Zadig. Besides such references to +Eastern customs, there are quotations of proverbs +<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>and of Zoroastrian precepts, and various +references to religious beliefs and observances, +<i>e.g.</i> the bridge of death, the angel Azrael, +Oromazdes, and temple worship. Chap. XI., +<cite>The Evening’s Entertainment</cite>, treats of ideas +found also in Voltaire’s <cite>Fragments historiques +sur l’Inde</cite>: the worship of one God under the +symbol of fire by the ancient Persians; of one +supreme Deity under various symbols by the +Egyptians, etc. A heated discussion takes place +between an Egyptian, an Indian, a Greek, and +others as to the superior claims of their respective +religions. They are finally brought by +Zadig’s sense and tact to acknowledge that, in +truth, they all worship the Supreme Creator as +behind and above all symbols.<a id='r160'></a><a href='#f160' class='c011'><sup>[160]</sup></a> By this mockery +of oriental fanaticism, Voltaire is actually satirizing +European bigotry and unreason. In a similar +manner he strikes at the metaphysicians. +Zadig “was well instructed in the science of the +ancient Chaldeans ... and understood as much +of metaphysics as any that have lived after +him,—that is to say, he knew very little about +it.” And, aiming ostensibly at the mercenary +<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>selfishness of the Babylonian courtiers, Voltaire +hits the sycophants of the French court. The +king ordered Zadig’s fine of four hundred ounces +to be restored to him. “Agreeable to his Majesty’s +commands, the clerk of the court, the +tipstaffs, and the other petty officers, waited on +Zadig ... to refund the four hundred ounces +of gold; modestly reserving only three hundred +and ninety ounces, to defray the fees of the +court and other expenses.” The inconsistency +of the oriental freebooter who thought it wrong +for the rich, but quite right for himself, to get +and keep wealth, might easily have found a +parallel in France. “I was distracted to see” +(he says) “in a wide world which ought to be +divided fairly among mankind, that Fate had +reserved so small a portion for me.” Other +themes illustrated are the misery caused by +tyrants; the injustice of the social structure; +the fickleness of women who protest too much; +and above all the question of the part played +in human life by destiny,—the apparent supremacy +of Chance, and the real supremacy +of a foreknowing and overruling Providence. +Zadig’s adventures hinge upon trivial happenings, +and hence he doubts Providence, until the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>angel, disguised as a hermit, teaches him.<a id='r161'></a><a href='#f161' class='c011'><sup>[161]</sup></a> We +have spoken of Voltaire’s facile use of oriental +colouring. But in <cite>Zadig</cite> few figures of speech +occur. On one occasion Zadig addresses the +judges as “glorious stars of justice,” and “mirrors +of equity.” Such figures, however, are +rare, a fact the more remarkable since Voltaire +considered the immoderate use of metaphor one +of the chief characteristics of oriental writing,<a id='r162'></a><a href='#f162' class='c011'><sup>[162]</sup></a> +and another instance of the way in which he +subordinated the oriental setting to his serious +purpose.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Besides <cite>Zadig</cite>, several other <i>contes philosophiques</i> +by Voltaire were early translated into +English. In the majority of them, literary and +social satire predominates over philosophical +speculation, and therefore these tales may best +be classified among the Satiric Group in Chap. +IV. But in two, though satire is present, speculation +is predominant: <cite>The World as it Goes</cite>, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>(1754)<a id='r163'></a><a href='#f163' class='c011'><sup>[163]</sup></a> and <cite>The Good Bramin</cite> (1763).<a id='r164'></a><a href='#f164' class='c011'><sup>[164]</sup></a> Both are +brief. The latter is a sketch of a good Bramin +who had studied much and, in his own estimation, +learned nothing. Hence he was unhappy, +yet he preferred his condition to that of an old +woman, who lived near him, contented because +ignorant. In conclusion the author states that +he has been unable to find any philosopher who +would accept happiness on the terms of being +ignorant. All men seem to set a greater value +on reason than on happiness. Is not that folly? +<cite>The World as it Goes</cite> is an account of a visit to +Persepolis, <i>i.e.</i> Paris, by Babouc the Scythian, +sent by the genie Ithuriel to observe the inhabitants +in order to assist Ithuriel in deciding +whether or not to destroy Persepolis. Babouc +observed soldiers, church-goers, lawyers, merchants, +magi, men of letters, and women. In +each group he found both good and bad qualities +so mingled that he wavered back and forth +in his judgment, and finally grew fond of a city, +“the inhabitants of which were polite, affable, +and beneficent, though fickle, slanderous, and +vain.” When obliged to report to the angel, he +<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>presented him with a little statue made of base +metals, gold, and jewels. “Wilt thou break,” +said he to Ithuriel, “this pretty statue because +it is not wholly composed of gold and diamonds?” +Ithuriel understood, and resolved to +spare the city and to leave “the world as it +goes.” “For,” he said, “if all is not well, all +is passable.” Except for these <i>contes</i> by Voltaire, +no philosophic oriental tales of any importance +were translated from the French. The +current tended, in fact, the other way. English +tales, both moralistic and philosophic, were +translated and adapted for use in <cite>Les Mercures +de France</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Of the philosophic oriental tales composed in +English, <cite>Rasselas</cite> (1759),<a id='r165'></a><a href='#f165' class='c011'><sup>[165]</sup></a> the most important, +remains to be discussed. The culmination of +the fiction in the <cite>Rambler</cite> and the <cite>Idler</cite>, this +brief sketch may be regarded as the best type +of the serious English oriental tale. Written +immediately after the death of Johnson’s mother, +it expresses the substance of the author’s somber +philosophy of life. Though darkened by his +immediate grief, the philosophy is essentially +the same as that revealed in his conversations +<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>and his verse. The theme of the tale can +hardly be stated in a better phrase than “The +Vanity of Human Wishes.” Rasselas, confined +in the Happy Valley all the days of his youth, +realizes that the gratification of desire does not +confer lasting happiness; and, with his sister +Nekayah and two other companions, escapes +into the world only to discover unhappiness +everywhere. Unable to obtain even his wish to +govern a little kingdom beneficently, he resolves +to return to Abyssinia. In sight of this conclusion, +the princess Nekayah significantly declares: +“The choice of life is become less +important. I hope hereafter to think only on +the choice of eternity.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>The story is broken by continual philosophizing, +or rather the philosophizing—to the +author more important—is held together by +the slender thread of narrative. Serious and +leisurely conversations held by Rasselas with his +companions turn upon the problems of government; +the characteristics of melancholia; the +mysterious causes of good and evil; the immortality +of the soul; and, most frequently, the +impossibility of attaining happiness. One of +the chief reasons for discontent is the lack of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>free choice. “Very few ... live by choice. +Every man is placed in his present condition by +causes which acted without his foresight and +with which he did not always willingly coöperate; +and therefore you will rarely meet one who +does not think the lot of his neighbours better +than his own.” Each endeavour of Rasselas to +find a happy man is unsuccessful. “The young +men of spirit and gaiety,” whose only business +is pleasure, are not happy; shepherds in the +much-praised pastoral life and courtiers in gay +society are envious and discontented; hermits +are at heart unhappy, and so are the sages who +trust in empty and eloquent commonplaces on +the superiority of reason; men who advise +living “according to nature” attain only a false +content. “Marriage has many pains, but celibacy +has no pleasures;” old age is darkened by +loneliness and disappointed hopes; happiness +itself is the cause of keenest misery to the man +who has loved and lost a friend, and “human +life is everywhere a state in which much is to +be endured and little to be enjoyed.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>The mitigating circumstance which affords +this little enjoyment is the power of man to +attain knowledge and to retain integrity. An +<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>educated intellect and a quiet conscience go far, +in Johnson’s estimation, towards winning serenity +and patience. “Knowledge” includes +poetry; the poet Imlac is a man of learning, a +scholar; and poetry is “considered as the +highest learning and regarded with a veneration....” +The poet should educate himself by +study and by observation until he is able to +fulfil his function “as the interpreter of nature +and the legislator of mankind, ... presiding +over the thoughts and manners of future generations, ... +a being superior to time and place.” +To Johnson, thoroughly convinced that life +ought to be viewed from the moralistic side, +knowledge is valuable only when ideas are applied +to life, and his philosophizing continually +verges towards the dividing line between speculation +and conduct. He rebukes those who, +while “making the choice of life,” “neglect to +live”; those who, like Rasselas, pass “four +months in resolving to lose no more time in +idle resolves”; he inculcates employment as the +best cure for sorrow; perseverance, courage, and +honesty as essentials of character; and concludes +that “all that virtue can afford is quietness +of conscience and a steady prospect of a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>happier state; this may enable us to endure +calamity with patience, but remember that +patience must suppose pain.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>This fundamental characteristic of Johnson’s +philosophy of life—the sense of the consolation +offered to man in the midst of mystery and +unhappiness by virtue, by knowledge, and by +faith in a future existence—renders interesting +a comparison of <cite>Rasselas</cite> and <cite>Candide</cite>.<a id='r166'></a><a href='#f166' class='c011'><sup>[166]</sup></a> +The two <i>contes philosophiques</i> were published +almost simultaneously,<a id='r167'></a><a href='#f167' class='c011'><sup>[167]</sup></a> and show striking points +of similarity and of difference. Johnson’s reverent +manner, for instance, is opposed to Voltaire’s +habitual mockery; yet Johnson sometimes +satirizes shams with savage irony, and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>Voltaire, underneath his mockery, has an honest +reverence for the truth. Both are absolutely +independent and fearless in facing intellectual +or philosophic problems.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The themes of <cite>Rasselas</cite> and <cite>Candide</cite> are strikingly +similar. In this enigmatical world, says +Voltaire, which is full of unhappiness due to +misfortune and crime, optimism is false and +futile. Candide spends his sheltered youth in +a castle which he is taught to believe blindly is +the most magnificent of all castles in the best +of all possible worlds,—an environment of +ideas as artificial as the Happy Valley is for +Rasselas, and affording an equally sharp contrast +to the real life outside. For the Happy +Valley, if we look for the meaning of Johnson’s +allegory, signifies the environment, whether inherited +or self-made, of the extreme optimist. +Rasselas has the optimistic temperament, hopeful, +charitable, saying confidently: “Surely +happiness is somewhere to be found.” The +other inhabitants of the Happy Valley, who +enter it voluntarily and can never leave it, may +be likened to optimists like Dr. Pangloss, Candide’s +base and foolish tutor, whose blindness +is the darker because self-imposed,—none so +<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>blind as those who will not see. Gradually the +conviction is borne in upon Rasselas that every +search for happiness is futile, and his efforts end +in a “conclusion in which nothing is concluded.” +The disillusionment of Candide, less profound +than that of Rasselas, is more bitter because +based on intimate and vivid experiences of +crime and horrors.</p> + +<p class='c007'><cite>Rasselas</cite> is Voltairean not only in general +theme but also in several specific ideas. Johnson +treats with keen satire the philosopher who +“looked round him with a placid air and enjoyed +the consciousness of his own beneficence,” after +exhorting men to “live according to nature.” +Rasselas respectfully asked him to define his +terms, whereupon he enlarged as follows: “‘To +live according to nature is to act always with +due regard to the fitness arising from the relations ... +of cause and effects; to concur with +the great ... scheme of universal felicity; to +coöperate with the general disposition and +tendency of the present system of things.’ The +prince found that this was one of the sages +whom he should understand less as he heard +him longer. He therefore bowed and was silent; +and the philosopher, supposing him satisfied, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>and the rest vanquished, rose up and departed +with the air of a man that had coöperated with +the present system.” The irony of Voltaire finds +an echo in Imlac’s words: “learning from the +sailors the art of navigation, which I have never +practised, and ... forming schemes for my +conduct in different situations, in not one of +which I have ever been placed.” There is +obvious satire too in the account of the eminent +mechanist who discoursed learnedly upon the +art of flying. But his flying machine refused +to fly and he promptly dropped into the lake, +from which “the prince drew him to land half +dead with terror and vexation.”<a id='r168'></a><a href='#f168' class='c011'><sup>[168]</sup></a> Johnson’s +“wise and happy man,” who talks nobly about +fortitude, but who is unable to sustain the loss +of his daughter, resembles the philosopher in +Voltaire’s sketch, <cite>Les deux Consolés</cite>, who seeks +to solace a lady’s grief by eloquence and refuses +to be similarly comforted upon the death of his +son. Imlac’s encomium upon the busy and +cheerful monastic life has been compared with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>the close of <cite>Candide</cite>. There the hero meets a +contentedly ignorant old man whose entire life +is employed in cultivating his garden, and who +thus escapes from ennui, vice, and want. Candide +is profoundly impressed, and brushes aside +the grandiloquence of Pangloss with the significant +reply: “Cela est bien dit, ... mais il +faut cultiver notre jardin.” This is Voltaire’s +last word in <cite>Candide</cite>, and, like Johnson’s comment +upon the return of Rasselas to Abyssinia, +is “a conclusion in which nothing is concluded.” +Thus the similarity of incidents and ideas brings +us back to the deeper analogy between the +themes: the disillusionment of the optimist who +has been brought up in unreality.</p> + +<p class='c007'>All this similarity is, however, counterbalanced +by an utter dissimilarity of treatment. +A consideration of Voltaire’s artistic method +throws Johnson’s concept of an oriental tale +into bolder relief, with the high lights on those +elements that he considered of prime importance. +Voltaire enjoyed telling the story for +the sake of the story, and delighted in the +means he took to make blind optimism ridiculous, +wit and keen satire, vivid description and +incident, clever characterization,—in short, an +<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>artistic use of the concrete. <cite>Candide</cite> has been +called “the wittiest book of the eighteenth century,” +and wit is a characteristic as far removed +as possible from the seriousness of <cite>Rasselas</cite>. To +Johnson the story was a means to an end,—a +frame necessary to hold together and enhance +the thought,—hence the simpler the frame the +better. In <cite>Candide</cite> the story is interpenetrated +with the theme, but not borne down by it. +Candide, like Rasselas, is searching for happiness; +but unlike Johnson’s hero, he desires not +happiness in the abstract,—a philosophical possibility,—but +pleasure in the concrete form of +his mistress. He travels far and wide, in hopeful +anticipation; but when he finds her at +last, she is no longer fair or lovable, and his +marriage with her is perfunctory and joyless,—a +concrete, Voltairean expression of the idea +that happiness attained is often no happiness, +but vanishes in one’s grasp like the apples of +dust.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The scenes of Voltaire’s tale, moreover, are +not laid in remote Abyssinia, but chiefly in +Europe, with an excursion to “El Dorado” in +the New World, an impossible and comfortable +Utopia, the memory of which serves to embitter +<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>Candide’s distress during his subsequent misfortunes. +The Europe of the tale is clearly the +Europe of Voltaire’s own day: there are obvious +allusions to contemporary events, such as +the execution of the innocent English admiral +Byng in 1757, an excellent opportunity for +Voltaire’s famous gibe at the English: “Dans +ce pays-ci il est bon de tuer de temps en temps +un amiral pour encourager les autres.” The +characters also are more individualized than in +<cite>Rasselas</cite>, and scenes like the visit to the blasé +Venetian senator Pococurante (Chap. XXV.)<a id='r169'></a><a href='#f169' class='c011'><sup>[169]</sup></a> +are brilliantly depicted. Throughout the entire +story one definite incident follows another, good +and bad, but never indifferent; until a general +effect of rich complexity, of rapid movement—not +unlike that of <cite>Gil Blas</cite>—is attained. In +the last analysis what more striking contrast to +this work of Voltaire, the consummate artist +and keen satirist, than <cite>Rasselas</cite>, the profoundly +philosophical tale of Johnson the moralist? +Voltaire’s keen wit and brilliant mockery is +indeed exhilarating after the slow and ponderous +<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>progress of Johnson’s thought; but, on the +other hand, after the atmosphere of turmoil, +excitement, and repulsive crime in <cite>Candide</cite>, the +clear and pure air of <cite>Rasselas</cite> affords a welcome +relief. In the remote regions of Johnson’s +imaginary Abyssinia and Egypt, events are of +minor importance; the quiet, even advance of +speculation concerning truth is Johnson’s chief +interest. There is no emphasis on any incident +that might distract the attention,—in fact the +only noticeable events are the flight from the +Happy Valley and the adventure of Pekuah. +Neither is there any emphasis on description; +the Happy Valley is depicted in the most +general terms; it might be any valley anywhere. +Similarly, in describing the Lady Pekuah in the +Arab’s tent, or Rasselas in Cairo, or the pyramids +of Egypt,—in each case Johnson abstains +from the concrete and prefers the general term. +Again, as to time and place he is vague. His +scene is laid far from contemporary Europe. +“Rasselas was the fourth son of the mighty +emperor, in whose dominions the Father of +Waters begins his course, whose bounty ... +scatters over half the world the harvests of +Egypt.” In fact Johnson’s method of orientalizing +<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>his tale was extremely simple. “Imlac +in <cite>Rasselas</cite>,” he says, “I spelt with a <i>c</i> at the +end, because it is less like English, which should +always have the Saxon <i>k</i> added to the <i>c</i>.”<a id='r170'></a><a href='#f170' class='c011'><sup>[170]</sup></a> +Eastern localities are only occasionally mentioned, +and always in a thoroughly Johnsonian +manner: “Agra, the capital of Indostan, the +city in which the Great Mogul resides;” “Persia, +where I saw many remains of ancient magnificence, +and observed many new accommodations +of life.” But there is no local colour, +even in the account of Imlac’s journey with +the caravan to the Red Sea, or of the Arab +bandits who demanded ransom for the Lady +Pekuah, or of the story-telling in the cool of +the day. The language, clear and often simple, +always dignified and powerful, sometimes pompous, +is seldom orientalized by the introduction +of figures such as “the frown of power,” +“the eye of wisdom,” “the waves of violence,” +“the rocks of treachery.” Unobstructed by +<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>imagery, it reflects Johnson’s clear and serious +thought. The Happy Valley, as a central concept, +is as simple as the bridge in <cite>The Vision of +Mirza</cite>; indeed, Johnson’s treatment of imaginative +elements in general is like Addison’s. +Rasselas, like Mirza, is so generalized as to be +“Everyman,” lacking the specific traits of a +living individual and in so far resembling characters +in other oriental tales. Yet the earnestness +and dignity of the author raise <cite>Rasselas</cite> +above the average oriental tale. Both theme +and treatment compel attention, and like music, +may be interpreted by each reader for himself. +To a man of Johnson’s temperament, habitually +threatened by melancholy, the brighter side of +life was invisible; such facts as abiding joy, +enduring content, true happiness, were beyond +his field of vision. Consequently <cite>Rasselas</cite> shows +only the shadows of the picture, and is, in so +far, untrue to life as a whole. But the truth +that Johnson saw, he faced unflinchingly and +depicted powerfully, and by this truth, so depicted, +<cite>Rasselas</cite> still lives. Emphasis on philosophizing +rather than on narrative; creation +of a setting faint in colour; intentional vagueness +regarding character, time, and place, result +<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>in a strong impression of remoteness. The +Abyssinia and Cairo of <cite>Rasselas</cite> are far-away +and shadowy places, in which shadowy people +move; but the questions raised, the grief expressed, +come home to whoever “hath kept +watch o’er man’s mortality,” and, like Johnson, +perplexed by</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in12'>“the mystery, ...</div> + <div class='line'>the heavy and the weary weight</div> + <div class='line'>Of all this unintelligible world,”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>has taken refuge in “learning,” “integrity,” and +“faith.” These are the realities behind the +shadows in <cite>Rasselas</cite>,—realities which gain +from the vagueness and remoteness of setting a +heightened effect of universality.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span> + <h2 class='c006'>CHAPTER IV<br> <span class='c012'>THE SATIRIC GROUP</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>In France satire used the oriental tale seriously +for the purpose of criticizing contemporary +society, morals, and politics; but also +turned its criticism against the oriental tale +itself, which it travestied and parodied. These +forms of satire we may term, respectively, social +and literary,—the former, satire by means of +the oriental tale; the latter, satire upon the +oriental tale. Such social satire had appeared +as far back as 1684 with the publication of +<cite>L’Espion turc</cite><a id='r171'></a><a href='#f171' class='c011'><sup>[171]</sup></a> by Giovanni Paolo Marana. +This pseudo-oriental translation catered to the +growing interest in the Orient, contributing an +important element to the oriental vogue not +actually inaugurated until the publication of the +epoch-making <cite>Mille et une Nuits</cite> (1704–1717). +The genre of pseudo-letters, founded—so far +as we know—by Marana, was continued by +Charles Rivière Dufresny in his <span lang="fr"><cite>Amusemens</cite> (<i>sic</i>) +<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span><cite>serieux et comiques</cite></span> (1699),<a id='r172'></a><a href='#f172' class='c011'><sup>[172]</sup></a> culminated in the +<cite>Lettres Persanes</cite> (1721) of Montesquieu, and +was widely diffused by a score of imitators.<a id='r173'></a><a href='#f173' class='c011'><sup>[173]</sup></a> +A particularly light and humorous form of +social satire is exemplified in Marmontel’s prose +tale, <cite>Soliman II.</cite></p> + +<p class='c007'>The literary satire referred to above was a +natural reaction against current enthusiasm for +the extravagance of the oriental tale. Count +Hamilton led this reaction with his entertaining +parodies on oriental stories and fairy tales; +Caylus, Voltaire, and others followed. In general +the satirizing tendency seems to have been +about evenly divided between social and literary +satire. The natural inclination of the French +to satirize foibles of social life and weaknesses +of the social structure is plainly visible. Equally +<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>apparent is their acuteness in perceiving and +criticizing faults of literary style. In England +the emphasis was characteristically different +and rested more on conduct, less on art. +Numerous translations and imitations of Marana, +Montesquieu, and others appeared; and in +Goldsmith’s <cite>Citizen of the World</cite> the genre of +pseudo-letters reached its highest point of development +in England. There were a few interesting +translations of French tales in which +literary and social satire were mingled, such as +those by Voltaire; and a few translations of +literary parodies by Caylus, Bougeant, and +Hamilton. But, if we except Horace Walpole’s +trifling <cite>Hieroglyphic Tales</cite>, there was no original +English parody.<a id='r174'></a><a href='#f174' class='c011'><sup>[174]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>As in France, so in England the impetus and +direction to this particular form of satire were +first given by Marana.<a id='r175'></a><a href='#f175' class='c011'><sup>[175]</sup></a> The main idea of his +<cite>Espion Turc</cite>—the disguised Oriental observing +and commenting on European society and +politics in a series of letters home—was apparently +<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>original with him and was immediately +popular. The first English translation, by +William Bradshaw, slightly edited by Robert +Midgley, appeared 1687–1693.<a id='r176'></a><a href='#f176' class='c011'><sup>[176]</sup></a> The character +of the eight small, dusty volumes of the English +version is curious. An historical preface to +Vol. I. is followed by a Letter to the Reader +which, like Irving’s account of the disappearance +of Diedrich Knickerbocker, tells how the Turk +vanished from his rooms leaving behind his roll +of manuscript, and beseeches the Gentle Reader’s +respectful attention. The <cite>Letters</cite> form a rambling +journal of gossip on current politics and +satire on society. “We must not expect to find +here in Paris the great Tranquility which is at +<cite>Constantinople</cite>. The Town is so full of Coaches, +of Horses and Waggons, that the Noise surpasses +Imaginations. Thou wilt certainly find +it strange that Men who are in Health ... +<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>should cause themselves to be drawn in an +Engine with Four Wheels.... The more +<i>moderate French</i>, which do not approve of this +luxury, say, That, in the Time of Henry III. +there were but Three Coaches in <cite>Paris</cite>, whereof +Two were the King’s; But the Number is now +so great, that they are not to be counted. I +can tell thee no more of the Genius of the +French; thou knowest it perfectly. <cite>There is in +all their actions a Spirit very delicate and an +Activity like that of Fire.</cite> It seems as if none +but they knew the short Duration of man’s life; +they do every Thing with so much Haste, as if +they had but one Day to live; <cite>If they go on +Foot, they run; if they ride, they fly; and if +they speak, they eat up half their Words</cite>. They +love new Inventions passionately.... They +love <cite>Moneys</cite>, which they look upon as the <i>first +Matter</i>, and <i>second Cause</i> of all Things; They +well nigh adore it and that is the Original Sin of +all Nations.”<a id='r177'></a><a href='#f177' class='c011'><sup>[177]</sup></a> On all sorts of subjects the Spy +makes all sorts of remarks, trivial and serious, +stupid and interesting, never very profound. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>He gives court gossip; sketches his call upon +Cardinal Richelieu in obedience to the Cardinal’s +command; and recounts stories of Spanish cavaliers, +Italian ladies, and Arab galley-slaves. In +oriental colouring <cite>The Turkish Spy</cite>, especially +in its earlier volumes, is more consistent than +later imitations like, for example, Lyttelton’s +<cite>Persian Letters</cite>. The Spy’s point of view seems +remote; he speaks as a foreigner might speak +of customs that appear to him different from +those of his native country. “How often,” he +says (Vol. VI., p. 3), “have I been like to discover +myself by pronouncing the sacred <cite>Bismillah</cite>, +either when I sat down to eat, or ... +began any other Action of Importance.... +When I met any of my acquaintance in the +street, I was apt to forget that I had a hat on, +and instead of putting off that, according to the +Fashion of the Franks, I laid my hand in my +Breast, and sometimes bow’d so low, that my +Hat fell off.... If I had Occasion to address +myself to a Person of Quality, I was ready to +take up the Bottom of his Cloak, Gown, or +Robe, and to kiss it in token of Reverence, as +the Custom is in the East, when we salute the +Grandees. Nay, sometimes I could not forbear +<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>falling on my Knee, or prostrate on the Ground +before Cardinal Richlieu [<i>sic</i>].” The description +(Vol. I., p. 107) of the fair Paradise of +the faithful, clad in robes of “pleasing green,” +and receiving from the hands of God their +recompense, is not unlike the conventional descriptions +in the <cite>Adventures of Abdalla</cite> or the +<cite>Persian Tales</cite>. Eastern proverbs and stories are +quoted (Vol. I., pp. 119, 140), and Eastern or +pseudo-Eastern forms of blessing; <i>e.g.</i> “He +that is Lord of the East and the West, from +whose Throne hang Millions of Stars in Chains +of Gold, encrease thy Virtues and Blessings, and +preserve thee from the Poison of ill Eyes and +malicious Tongues, and bring thee to the <cite>Fields +of Endless Light</cite>” (Vol. II., p. 28); or “He +that is merciful and gracious, who hath separated +the Brightness of the Day from the Obscurity +of the Night, defend both thee and me +from the malice of Whisperers, from the Enchantments +of Wizards, and such as breathe thrice +upon the <cite>Knot</cite> of the <cite>Triple Cord</cite>” (Vol. III., +p. 47). By slight touches throughout the +<cite>Letters</cite>, the author with more or less success +keeps up the illusion. But “the chief permanent +interest of the once popular <cite>Letters</cite> is +<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>derived from the fact that they inaugurated a +new species of literary composition. The similar +idea of a description of England as if by a +foreigner was suggested by Swift as a good and +original one in the <cite>Journal to Stella</cite>, and was +utilized by Ned Ward and by many successors, +but Montesquieu’s <cite>Lettres Persanes</cite> (1723) is +the best classical example. Many subsequent +writers, including Charles Lamb, have been +under obligations to the <cite>Letters</cite>, etc.”<a id='r178'></a><a href='#f178' class='c011'><sup>[178]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>Dufresny’s influence as well as Marana’s on +the development of the genre of pseudo-letters +is clearly visible. The <cite>Amusements Serious and +Comical Calculated for the Meridian of London</cite> +(1700),<a id='r179'></a><a href='#f179' class='c011'><sup>[179]</sup></a> by Thomas Brown, is in part a verbal +translation, in part a paraphrase of Dufresny’s +work, with the addition of graphic sketches of +London scenes and characters in the manner of +Defoe. Brown nowhere acknowledges his indebtedness, +however. His Preface, or rather +Dufresny’s, of which his is practically a translation, +defends the choice of the title, <cite>Amusements +Serious and Comical</cite>, for the thoughts on life +he is about to present; and avows his purpose +of robbing neither the Ancients nor the Moderns +of learned quotations with which to decorate his +style. He will rather pillage all he gives his +reader from “the Book of the World, which is +very ancient and yet always new.” <cite>Amusement +II., The Voyage of the World</cite>, a free translation +<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>of Dufresny’s <cite>Amusement Second, Le Voiage du +Monde</cite>, describes general impressions of life at +court. Brown adds vivid pictures of individuals, +<i>e.g.</i> the <cite>Character of the Antiquated Beau</cite>: “Observe +that old starched Fop there; his Hat and +Peruque continue to have as little Acquaintance +together as they had in the year ’65. You +would take him for a Taylor by his Mein, but +he is another sort of an Animal, I assure you, a +Courtier, a Politician, the most <i>unintelligible +thing</i> now in being,” etc.<a id='r180'></a><a href='#f180' class='c011'><sup>[180]</sup></a> <cite>Amusement III., +London</cite>, is based on Dufresny’s <cite>Amusement III., +Paris</cite>. For the imaginary Siamese whom Dufresny +conceives as a traveling companion, +Brown substitutes an Indian. Brown’s idea of +the location of India seems as vague as that of +a fifteenth-century explorer. He calls his companion, +“my Indian” and “my friendly American,” +and on the next page makes him compare +St. Paul’s with the Chinese Wall and +contrast the irreverent conduct of Englishmen +in church with the devout worship by his countrymen +of “the gods in the pagods.”</p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>But the chief difference between Brown’s +work and Dufresny’s is due to the clever way +in which the English writer enriches the brief, +generalized, mildly satirical comments of his +French original by concrete sketches of street +life,—frequently coarse, but always picturesque,—which +recall the work of Defoe or +Hogarth. For instance, Dufresny writes: “<span lang="fr">Je +supose<a id='r181'></a><a href='#f181' class='c011'><sup>[181]</sup></a> donc que mon Siamois tombe des nuës, +et qu’il se trouve dans le milieu de cette Cité +vaste et tumultueuse, où le repos et le silence on +peine à regner pendant la nuit même. D’abord +le cahos bruiant de la rüe Saint Honoré l’étourdit +et l’épouvante; la tête lui tourne.</span></p> + +<p class='c007'>“<span lang="fr">Il voit une infinité de machines differentes +que des hommes font mouvoir: les uns sont +dessus, les autres dedans, les autres derriere; +ceux-ci portent, ceux-la sont portez; l’un tire, +l’autre pousse; l’un frape, l’autre crie; celui-ci +s’enfuit, l’autre court aprés. Je demande à +mon Siamois ce qu’il pense de ce spectacle.—J’admire +et je tremble, me repond-il; j’admire +que dans un espace si etroit tant de machines +et tant d’animaux, dont les mouvements sont +opposez ou differens, soient ainsi agitez sans se +<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>confondre; se démêler d’un tel embarras, c’est +un chef-d’œuvre de l’adresse des François.... +En voiant vôtre Paris, continuë ce Voiageur +abstrait, je m’imagine voir un grand animal; les +ruës sont autant de veines où le peuple circule: +quelle vivacité que celle de la circulation de +Paris!—Vous voiez, lui dis-je, cette circulation +qui se fait dans le cœur de Paris; il s’en fait +une encore plus petillante dans le sang des +Parisiens; ils sont toujours agitez et toujours +actifs, leurs actions se succedent avec tant de +rapidité qu’ils commencent mille choses avant +que d’en finir une, et en finissent milles autres +avant que de les avoir commencées. Ils sont +également incapables et d’attention et de +patience; rien n’est plus prompt que l’effet de +l’oüie et de la vûë, et cependant ils ne se donnent +le tems ni d’entendre ni de voir.</span>”<a id='r182'></a><a href='#f182' class='c011'><sup>[182]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>Compare the corresponding but far livelier +passage in Brown.<a id='r183'></a><a href='#f183' class='c011'><sup>[183]</sup></a> “I will therefore suppose +this <cite>Indian</cite> of mine dropt perpendicularly from +<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>the Clouds, and finds himself all on a sudden in +the midst of this prodigious and noisy City, +where Repose and Silence dare scarce shew +their Heads in the darkest Night. At first dash +the confused Clamours near <cite>Temple-Bar</cite> stun +him, fright him and make him giddy.</p> + +<p class='c007'>“He sees an infinite number of different +<cite>Machines</cite>, all in violent motion, some <i>riding</i> on +the top, some within, others behind, and Jehu +on the Coach-box, whirling some <i>dignified +Villain</i> towards the <cite>Devil</cite>, who has got an +Estate by cheating the Publick. He lolls at +full Stretch within, and half a dozen brawny ... +Footmen behind.</p> + +<p class='c007'>“In that dark Shop there, several Mysteries +of <cite>Iniquity</cite> have seen <cite>Light</cite>; and its a Sign our +Saviour’s Example is little regarded, since the +Money-changers are suffered to live so near the +Temple.... Here stands a Shop-keeper who +has not Soul enough to wear a Beaver-Hat, +with the Key of his Small-Beer in his Pocket; +and not far from him a stingy Trader who has +no Small-Beer to have a Key to.... Some +carry, others are carried; <cite>Make way there</cite>, says +a gouty-legged Chairman.... <cite>Make room +there</cite>, says another Fellow driving a wheelbarrow +<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>of Nuts, that spoil the Lungs of the City Prentices.... +One draws, another drives. <cite>Stand +up there, you blind Dog</cite>, says a Carman, <i>will you +have the Cart squeeze</i> [you]?... One Tinker +knocks, another bawls, <cite>Have you Brass-pot, +Kettle, Skillet, or Frying-Pan to mend?</cite> Whilst +another ... yelps louder than Homer’s Stentor, +<cite>Two a groat and Four for sixpence Mackerel?...</cite> +Here a sooty Chimney-sweeper takes the +Wall of a grave <cite>Alderman</cite> and a <cite>Broomman</cite> +justle[s] the <cite>Parson</cite> of the Parish.... <cite>Turn +out there, you</cite> ... says a <cite>Bully</cite> with a Sword +two Yards long jarring at his Heels, and throws +him into the Kennel. By and by comes a +<cite>Christening</cite> with a Reader screwing up his +Mouth to deliver the Service <i>alamode de Paris</i>, +and afterwards talk immoderately nice and dull +with the Gossips ... followed with ... a ... +Trumpeter calling in the Rabble to see a Calf +with six Legs and a Topknot. There goes a +Funeral with the Men of Rosemary after it, +licking their Lips after their hits of White, +Sack, and Claret in the House of Mourning, and +the <cite>Sexton</cite> walking before, as big and bluff as +a Beef-eater at a Coronation. Here’s a <cite>Poet</cite> +scampers for’t as fast as his Legs will carry +<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>him, and at his heels a brace of <cite>Bandog Bailiffs</cite>, +with open Mouths, ready to devour him and all +the Nine Muses.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Then follows the story of a visit to a coffeehouse, +to St. Paul’s, to the shops in Cheapside, +and to many other places. During the walk +Brown’s Indian makes the remark Dufresny puts +into the mouth of his Siamese concerning the +city as an “Animal” through whose veins—the +streets—life circulates. To the final +sentence: “[The people] don’t allow themselves +time either to hear or to see,” Brown +adds, “but like Moles, work in the dark and +undermine one another.” The above quotations +suggest better than any comments the +way in which Brown utilized and enriched his +source. He discussed the same topics: the +playhouse, the promenades, gallantry, marriage, +and gaming-houses; and from Dufresny’s +<cite>Cercle Bourgeois</cite> developed <cite>The City Lady’s Visiting-Day</cite>, +which, despite Brown’s characteristically +coarse tone and biting satire, recalls some +of Addison’s essays. That Brown influenced Addison +has, in fact, been suggested.<a id='r184'></a><a href='#f184' class='c011'><sup>[184]</sup></a> The earlier +<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>writer certainly holds a significant place in the +line of development of the pseudo-letter genre.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The work of Marana, Dufresny, and Brown +was continued by Addison and Steele, the first +notable English men of letters to utilize the oriental +material as a vehicle for satire. In the +case of the moralistic and philosophic groups of +oriental tales they gave the initial impulse; in +this instance, though they did not originate the +satiric tendency, they did assist in popularizing +it. As early as No. 50 of the <cite>Spectator</cite> (April 27, +1711), Addison handles similar material in his +account of “the very odd observations by four +[American] Indian kings” as set down in a +manuscript left behind them. St. Paul’s they +imagined to have been wrought out of a huge +misshapen rock. “It is probable that when +this great work was begun, ... many hundred +years ago, there was some religion among this +people; for they give it the name of a temple +and have a tradition that it was designed for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>men to pay their devotions in.... But ... +I could not observe any circumstances of devotion +in their behaviour.... Instead of paying +their worship to the deity of the place, they +were most of them bowing and courtesying to +one another, and a considerable number of them +fast asleep.” “This island was very much infested +with a monstrous kind of animals, in the +shape of men, called whigs; ... apt to knock +us down for being kings.... (The tory) was as +great a monster as the whig and would treat +us ill for being foreigners.” After ridiculing the +wigs of Englishmen and the patches of English +ladies, the observations close, and Addison draws +the moral that we should not be so narrow as +these Indians, who regard as ridiculous all +customs unlike their own. Another essay in +the <cite>Spectator</cite>,<a id='r185'></a><a href='#f185' class='c011'><sup>[185]</sup></a> similarly modeled on <cite>The Turkish +Spy</cite> or the <cite>Amusements</cite>, is a letter to the King +of Bantam from his ambassador in England, +1682, criticizing the empty compliments of English +social and diplomatic circles, and giving +clever pictures of London life. The pretended +letter from the King of China to the Pope asking +for a Christian wife<a id='r186'></a><a href='#f186' class='c011'><sup>[186]</sup></a> ridicules fantastic “oriental” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>descriptions; the assumptions of “his +majesty of Rome and his holiness of China”; +and “the lady who shall have so much zeal as +to undertake this pilgrimage, and be an empress +for the sake of her religion.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Two other essays, not pseudo-letters, complete +the slender number of satiric oriental tales +used by Addison and Steele. In one, the story +of the transmigrations of Pug, the monkey, +satirizes the ape-like character of the beau supposed +to be incarnate in Pug.<a id='r187'></a><a href='#f187' class='c011'><sup>[187]</sup></a> In the other<a id='r188'></a><a href='#f188' class='c011'><sup>[188]</sup></a> +Will Honeycomb, apropos of “those dear, confounded +creatures, women,” suggests having a +marriage-fair as they do, he says, in Persia, +where homely women are endowed with the +money paid for beauties. He questions which +would be the stronger motive in Englishmen, +love of money or love of beauty. The same +essay contains a story of a merchant in a Chinese +town after a Tartar victory. He buys a +sack for a high price, discovers in it an old +woman, and is about to throw her into the +river, but relents when she promises wealth. +She keeps her promise, and their married life +is contented.</p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>In the later periodicals throughout the century +the number of such tales is even smaller +than in the <cite>Spectator</cite>. The <cite>World</cite>, No. 40, on +the “Infelicities of Marriage owing to the Husband’s +not giving way to the Wife,” contains a +bald abridgment of the <cite>Story of King Ruzvanchad +and the Princess Cheristany</cite> “from the first +volume of the <cite>Persian Tales</cite>.” The <cite>Story of the +Dervise’s Mirror</cite><a id='r189'></a><a href='#f189' class='c011'><sup>[189]</sup></a> has almost no oriental colouring +and is used for social satire. The mirror +has the power of reflecting what a person really +is, what he wishes to be, and what he thinks he +is. The <cite>Connoisseur</cite>, No. 21, contains the story +of Tquassaouw and Knonmquaiha, “an Hottentot +story,” which has been well described as +“an indecent parody of the oriental style,” and +is the only example of deliberate parody in all +the eighteenth-century periodicals. As suggested +elsewhere,<a id='r190'></a><a href='#f190' class='c011'><sup>[190]</sup></a> English writers used the oriental +tale, not so much for literary as for social +satire, and expressed their disapproval of the +genre by direct criticism in preference to parody.</p> + +<p class='c007'>After the social satire of Addison and of +Steele, the next in point of time and the most +notable is that of Montesquieu. His <cite>Lettres +<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>Persanes</cite> appeared in 1721.<a id='r191'></a><a href='#f191' class='c011'><sup>[191]</sup></a> The date of the +first extant English translation, by Mr. Ozell, +was 1730; of the third edition of Ozell’s version, +1731; of an anonymous translation, sixth +edition, 1776. Thus, from 1721 on past the +middle of the century, the work was accessible +to English readers, and made the figure of +the observant, satirical European in oriental +disguise, introduced by <cite>The Turkish Spy</cite>, almost +as familiar in England as on the Continent. +<cite>Les Lettres Persanes</cite> is unquestionably the most +artistic example of the oriental pseudo-letter. +Montesquieu’s genius raised his work above the +level of the casual and intermittent comments +and external details found in <cite>The Turkish Spy</cite> +and the court memoirs of the seventeenth century, +to philosophic and organic criticism of life. +His chief aim was to express his views on social +customs, forms of government, and questions of +religion and conduct; and as he published the +book anonymously, he was enabled to write +with great freedom. His secondary purpose +<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>was to entertain, and to this purpose his genius +cleverly adapted the oriental colouring. The +two Persians visiting Paris, the serious Usbek +and the younger and gayer Rica, and their various +correspondents, are vivaciously, if slightly, +sketched; the best parts of the book are the +comments on European ideas and customs, but +the slender thread of story is not without interest. +As the author, in the <cite>Preliminary +Reflections</cite> prefixed to the quarto edition, says: +“There is nothing in the <cite>Persian Letters</cite> that +has given readers so general a satisfaction as to +find in them a sort of romance without having +expected it.”<a id='r192'></a><a href='#f192' class='c011'><sup>[192]</sup></a> The “sort of romance” relates +the insubordination of Usbek’s wives in his +absence and culminates in the unfaithfulness of +his favourite wife Roxane and the death of her +lover. It is Roxane who writes to Usbek the +concluding letter, informing him that she has +taken poison, and reproaching him with bitter +scorn.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The oriental colouring in the <cite>Letters</cite> is thin, +and is often set aside by the author in his eagerness +<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>to discuss general questions. Usbek and +Rica write, it is true, of bashaws, brachmans, +transmigrations; the Guebres, who worship the +sun and talk ancient Persian; Haly and Zoroaster; +imams, magi, and the Koran. Customs +of the seraglio are frequently used as an excuse +for extreme license in description. But the +author, by taking nominally the Persian point +of view and by contrasting Persian ways with +European, satirizes the latter adroitly. Among +the subjects discussed are the evils of despotism, +the value of a mild government and of a just +administration of laws, the greediness of clergy, +the fallibility and conceit of the French Academy, +the caprices of fashion, the vanity of +authors and of women. Of Spanish literature +Rica writes: “You may meet with wit and +good sense among the Spaniards, but look for +neither in their books. View but one of their +libraries, romances on this side, and school +divines on the other; you would say that they +had been made ... by some secret enemy +to human reason. The only good one of all +their books, is that which was wrote to show +the ridiculousness of all the others” (<cite>Letter</cite> +LXXVIII.). Sometimes the criticism is embodied +<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>in clever character-sketches, like those of +the would-be wits (<cite>Letters</cite> LIV., LXXXII.); the +newsmongers or Quidnuncs (<cite>Letter</cite> CXXX.);<a id='r193'></a><a href='#f193' class='c011'><sup>[193]</sup></a> +and the men of fashion (<cite>Letter</cite> LXXXVIII.). +In <cite>Letter</cite> LXXII. Rica describes “a man who +was highly pleased with himself.” “He had +decided, in a quarter of an hour, three questions +in morality, four historical problems, and +five points in natural philosophy. I never saw +so universal a decider; his mind was never suspended +by the least doubt. We left the sciences; +talked of the news of the times. He decided the +news of the times. I was willing to catch him, +and said to myself; I must get into my strong +fort; I will take refuge in my own country; I +talked to him of Persia; but I had scarce spoke +four words to him, but he contradicted me +twice, upon the authority of Tavernier and +Chardin. Hah! said I to myself, what a man +is this here? He will presently know all the +streets in Ispahan better than myself; I soon +determined what part to take: I was silent, I +left him to talk; and he yet decides.” The +question put to Usbek whether happiness is +<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>attained by virtue or by self-indulgence is +answered by the story of the Troglodites, an +ancient Arabian people to whom selfishness +brought adversity, and virtue prosperity.<a id='r194'></a><a href='#f194' class='c011'><sup>[194]</sup></a> +Other stories inserted, after the fashion of the +pseudo-letter genre, are <cite>The History of Apheridon +and Astarte</cite>;<a id='r195'></a><a href='#f195' class='c011'><sup>[195]</sup></a> a so-called <cite>Greek myth</cite>;<a id='r196'></a><a href='#f196' class='c011'><sup>[196]</sup></a> the +story of the <cite>Persian Lady Anais</cite>;<a id='r197'></a><a href='#f197' class='c011'><sup>[197]</sup></a> and the incident +of the patient cured of insomnia by reading +dull books of devotion.<a id='r198'></a><a href='#f198' class='c011'><sup>[198]</sup></a> It is not surprising +to read in the <cite>Preliminary Reflections</cite>: “So +great a call was there for the <cite>Persian Letters</cite>, +upon their first publication, that the booksellers +exerted their utmost efforts to procure +continuations of them. They pulled every +author they met by the sleeve, and said, Sir, I +must beg the favour of you to write me a +collection of <cite>Persian Letters</cite>.”<a id='r199'></a><a href='#f199' class='c011'><sup>[199]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>The first English collection of pseudo-letters +written in imitation of Montesquieu and his +predecessors was the <cite>Persian Letters</cite> of Lord +Lyttelton (1735).<a id='r200'></a><a href='#f200' class='c011'><sup>[200]</sup></a> Although inferior to <cite>Les +<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>Lettres Persanes</cite> in literary value, the book needs +more comment here because it is an English +work and is less well known, and also because +it directly influenced Goldsmith’s <cite>Citizen of the +World</cite>. The <cite>Prefatory Letter</cite> asserts that these +letters are translated from the Persian, acknowledges +that they lack the “Eastern sublimity” +of the original, and attempts to forestall the +accusation that the character of the Persian is +fictitious. Many such counterfeits have appeared +both in France and England, the +author says, but this is genuine. His defense +not only fails to convince the reader but confirms +the opinion gained from various authorities +on Lyttelton’s life and from the book itself, +that it is a pseudo-translation written in English +by Lyttelton.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The letter-form is used with far less skill than +in the <cite>Lettres Persanes</cite>. Selim the Persian at +London is supposed to write all the seventy-eight +letters to his friend Mirza at Ispahan, and +the letters have thus the monotony of a journal +instead of the varied interest of letters by +several people. Lyttelton makes a slight and +ineffectual attempt to imitate the artistic qualities +of the dramatic narrative which forms the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>framework of the <cite>Lettres Persanes</cite>, but the +reader can with difficulty disentangle the fragments +of plot. In <cite>Letter</cite> XXIII. Selim’s friend +Abdalla is introduced, but does not appear again +until <cite>Letter</cite> XLII. He then intrusts his wife +Zelis to Selim while he returns to the East to +ransom his father from captivity. The thread +of the story is lost again until <cite>Letter</cite> LXXVIII., +which recounts Abdalla’s adventures and his reunion +with Zelis.<a id='r201'></a><a href='#f201' class='c011'><sup>[201]</sup></a> Finally, in <cite>Letter</cite> LXXIX. +Selim reveals to Mirza his hopeless love for +Zelis and consequent determination to return to +Persia. The oriental colouring is as slight as +the narrative. The author occasionally remembers +to refer to Persia, “the resplendent palace +of our emperor,” and the seraglio, or to use an +oriental phrase. “Madam” (says Selim to the +mother of an English girl whom he wishes to +marry), “I have a garden at Ispahan, adorned +with the finest flowers in the East: I have the +Persian jasmine and the tulip of Candahar; but +I have beheld an English lily more fair ... +and far more sweet.”<a id='r202'></a><a href='#f202' class='c011'><sup>[202]</sup></a> Occasionally, the incongruity +<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>between the Persian and English +points of view results in humour. Selim describes +a card-party as a sight “very strange to +a Persian; ... tables ... round which were +placed several sets of men and women; they +seemed wonderfully intent upon some bits of +painted paper ... in their hands. I imagined +at first that they were performing some magical +ceremony, and that the figures ... on ... +the ... paper were a mystical talisman. What +more confirmed me in this belief was the grimaces +and distortions of their countenances, much like +those of our magicians in the act of conjuring. +But ... I was told they were at play, and +that this was the favourite diversion of both +sexes.”<a id='r203'></a><a href='#f203' class='c011'><sup>[203]</sup></a> Again he writes of a visit to a suburban +villa, elegant, but so cold that he thought +“the great saloon” the family burying-place, and +caught a cold, “which,” as he said, “took away +my voice in the very instant that I was going +to complain of what he made me suffer” (<cite>Letter</cite> +XXXII.).</p> + +<p class='c007'>But the author often forgets the Persian +<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>point of view; his thin disguise falls off and +reveals the grave English gentleman seriously +concerned over the shortcomings of English +society and government. He uses the pseudo-letter +merely as a means to a definite satirical +end. He comments freely upon the unhappy +victims of injustice in the debtors’ prison; upon +the courts of law, parliament, the evils of +parties, “the abuse of the thing called eloquence,” +the growth and value of the constitution, +the faults of the educational system, the +soporific effects of fashionable opera, and the +immorality of society. He depicts various +types of character. “There is a set of people in +this country, whose activity is more useless than +the idleness of a monk. They are like those +troublesome dreams which often agitate and +perplex us in our sleep, but leave no impression +behind them when we wake. I have sent thee +an epitaph made for one of those <i>men of business</i>, +who ended his life and his labours not +long ago; ... ‘<cite>Here lies ..., who lived threescore +and ten years in a continual hurry. He had +the honour of sitting in six parliaments, of being +chairman in twenty-five committees, and of making +three hundred and fifty speeches.... He left +<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>behind him memoirs of his own life, in five volumes +in folio. Reader, if thou shouldst be moved to +drop a tear for the loss of so considerable a Person, +it will be a Singular favour to the deceased; +for nobody else concerns himself about it, or +remembers that such a man was ever born</cite>’” +(<cite>Letter</cite> XXV.). Other “Characters” are the +good-natured country gentleman, the benevolent +bishop, the virtuoso, the vain man, the true +wit, and the rough country squire. The last is +drawn with real vigour. The squire was vastly +enjoying the bear- and bull-baiting; and when +Selim and a Frenchman criticized the dreadful +cruelty of the sport, he “cast a very sour look +at both.... He was dressed in a short black +wig, had his boots on, and held in his hand a +long whip, which, when the fellow fought stoutly, +he would crack very loudly by way of approbation, ... +[and would say] ‘Let me tell you +that if more people came hither and fewer +loitered in the drawing-room, it would not be +worse for Old England’” (<cite>Letter</cite> III.).</p> + +<p class='c007'>One of the best letters<a id='r204'></a><a href='#f204' class='c011'><sup>[204]</sup></a> bears a close resemblance +<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>to <cite>Letter</cite> XIV. in <cite>The Citizen of the +World</cite>: “The other morning a friend ... told +me, with the air of one who brings an agreeable +piece of news that there was a <i>lady</i> who most +<i>passionately desired the pleasure of my acquaintance</i>, +and had commissioned him to carry me +to see her. <cite>I will not deny</cite> to thee, that <i>my +vanity</i> was a little <i>flattered</i> with this message: I +fancied <i>she had seen me in some public place and +had</i> taken a liking to <i>my person</i>; not being able +to comprehend what other motive could make +her send for a man she was a stranger to, in so +free and extraordinary a manner, I <i>painted her</i> +in <i>my</i> own <i>imagination</i> very young, and very +handsome, and <i>set out with most pleasing expectations</i>, +to see the <i>conquest I had made</i>: but +when I arrived at the place of assignation, I +found a little old woman, very dirty, encircled +by four or five strange fellows, one of whom +had a paper in his hand, which he was reading +to her with all the emphasis of an author.” +She greeted Selim “with great satisfaction,” +saying she had long been curious to know a +Mahometan and to be initiated into all the +mysteries of the Koran in order to perfect a +system of theology she had herself contrived. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>“‘Madam,’ replied I, in great confusion, ‘I did +not come to England as a missionary.... +But if a Persian tale would entertain you, I +could tell you one that the Eastern ladies are +mighty fond of.’ ‘A Persian Tale!’ cried she, +‘Really, sir, I am not used to be so affronted.’ +At these words she retired into her closet, with +her whole train of metaphysicians; and left my +friend and me to go away, as unworthy of any +further communications with her.” Another +proof that Goldsmith borrowed from Lyttelton +is the similarity of certain names and incidents +in Goldsmith’s story of the Chinese Philosopher’s +son and the beautiful captive<a id='r205'></a><a href='#f205' class='c011'><sup>[205]</sup></a> to those in the +tale of Abdalla in the <cite>Persian Letters</cite>. In both +are to be found the heroine Zelis, the sudden +appearance of the beautiful slave to the hero, +her account of her master’s partiality, her +flight with the hero, the separation and final +reunion of hero and heroine. In putting in such +a story Goldsmith followed the traditional lines +of the genre and, as usual, improved upon the +crude method of Lyttelton, exemplified in the +utterly extraneous, coarse, and inartistic tales of +<cite>Ludovico and Honoria</cite>,<a id='r206'></a><a href='#f206' class='c011'><sup>[206]</sup></a> and of <cite>Acasto and Septimius</cite>,<a id='r207'></a><a href='#f207' class='c011'><sup>[207]</sup></a> +<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>apparently of Italian or Spanish origin. +Not until almost the last <cite>Letter</cite> does Lyttelton +introduce the love of Selim for Zelis,—a belated +attempt to enliven the tedium by some +human interest. The slight sketches of English +life break the monotony occasionally, but are not +enough to redeem the dullness of the book as a +whole. The satire is such as might be expected +from a man who has been called amiable, ignorant +of the world, “a poor practical politician,” and +“a gentleman of Elegant Taste in Poetry and Polite +Literature.” His chief claim to remembrance +lies in the fact that he influenced Goldsmith.<a id='r208'></a><a href='#f208' class='c011'><sup>[208]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>The English pseudo-letters, aside from Lyttelton’s +<cite>Persian Letters</cite> and Goldsmith’s <cite>Citizen +of the World</cite>, are comparatively insignificant. +Among them the most popular was Horace +Walpole’s <cite>Letter from Xo-Ho</cite>,<a id='r209'></a><a href='#f209' class='c011'><sup>[209]</sup></a> which was written +May 12, 1757, and went through five editions in +a fortnight. It is a brief, witty satire, aimed +chiefly at the injustice of the system of political +rewards and punishments, as exemplified in +Admiral Byng’s recent execution. There are a +few good hits at social amusements, at the +English weather, and at foibles of the English +character in general. The oriental disguise is +extremely thin, but is cleverly used to point +the satire. For instance, Xo-Ho says: “I +thought when a nation was engaged in a great +war with a superior power, that they must have +council [<i>sic</i>]. I was deceived; reason in China is +not reason in England ... my friend Lien Chi, I +tell thee things as they are; I pretend not to +account for the conduct of Englishmen; I told +thee before, they are incomprehensible.” Xo-Ho +refers to “our august emperor,” and swears by +<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>“Cong Fu-tsee,” but the mask does not conceal +Walpole’s supercilious smile. As a link in +the development of pseudo-letters in England, +<cite>Xo-Ho</cite> is especially interesting, being in all +probability one of the sources of Goldsmith’s +<cite>Chinese Philosopher</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The <cite>Citizen of the World</cite> is a good illustration +of the tribute paid by Dr. Johnson to Goldsmith: +“Nullum quod tetigit non ornavit.” +First printed in the form of bi-weekly letters in +Newbery’s <cite>Public Ledger</cite>, beginning January 24, +1760, the book was immediately popular, and +was published in 1762 under the title <cite>The Citizen +of the World,<a id='r210'></a><a href='#f210' class='c011'><sup>[210]</sup></a> or Letters from a Chinese Philosopher +residing in London to his friends in the East</cite>. +Numerous editions followed. From what source +Goldsmith caught the phrase “Citizen of the +World” is unknown.<a id='r211'></a><a href='#f211' class='c011'><sup>[211]</sup></a> He may have taken it +<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>from a French book which had appeared only +a few years before, <cite>Le Cosmopolite</cite> (1750), by +Fougeret de Monbron, and which had been reprinted +in 1752 under the title <cite>Le Citoyen du +Monde</cite>.<a id='r212'></a><a href='#f212' class='c011'><sup>[212]</sup></a> Byron called it “an amusing little +volume full of French flippancy,” and drew +from it a quotation<a id='r213'></a><a href='#f213' class='c011'><sup>[213]</sup></a> which he prefixed to <cite>Childe +Harold’s Pilgrimage</cite>. Among Goldsmith’s other +sources are, of course, Montesquieu and Marana, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>possibly also Dufresny. The name <cite>Fum-Hoam</cite> +he probably drew from the <cite>Chinese Tales</cite>. It is +not unlikely that he knew the recent translation +of <cite>Hau Kiou Chooan</cite>,<a id='r214'></a><a href='#f214' class='c011'><sup>[214]</sup></a> by Wilkinson. He +undoubtedly utilized Lyttelton’s <cite>Persian Letters</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Like its predecessors, <cite>The Citizen of the World</cite> +is a series of letters written ostensibly by an +Oriental describing and satirizing the manners +and customs of Europe by sharp contrast with +the real or imaginary customs of his native +land. Previous pseudo-letters had been interspersed, +like the Addisonian periodicals, with +episodical stories and character-sketches, and +<cite>The Citizen of the World</cite> elaborated both these +lines of decoration. The most famous sketches +are those of the “Man in Black,” “Beau Tibbs,” +and the “Wooden-legged Soldier.” But to the +student of oriental fiction the chief interest of +these <cite>Letters</cite> lies in the ease and facility with +which Goldsmith handles his oriental material. +Instead of attempting a cumbersome description +of the Chinese Philosopher, Lien Chi Altangi, +the first letter gives brief credentials as to his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>honesty and respectability in a way that would +surely appeal to the English public. His friend +Fum-Hoam is a shadowy figure, just distinct +enough to be a receptive correspondent. A +touch of romance is given by the frequent mention +of Lien Chi’s longing for home and the improbable +but interesting love story of his son. +The heroine, a beautiful slave, proves to be +the niece of the Man in Black, Lien Chi’s best +friend in London. The character of the Chinese +Philosopher is purposely vague; the comments +on London life are Goldsmith’s own. Every +now and then he remembers to hold the mask +before his face and to drop a sudden remark in +character, and the result is a humorous incongruity. +The picture of London streets where +“a great lazy puddle moves muddily along” is +more vivid by contrast to Lien Chi’s memory +of the golden streets of Nankin.<a id='r215'></a><a href='#f215' class='c011'><sup>[215]</sup></a> Ideals of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>feminine beauty are all the more acutely and +quizzically described by praising absolutely +opposite Chinese standards. The justice of +literary patronage in China is contrasted with +the bribery and falsity of the English custom. +Absurd English fashions in dress and household +decoration, cruelty to animals, and inconsistent +funeral rites are freely criticized. Goldsmith +employs effectively the indirect method of the +satirist who condemns one custom by praising +its opposite. He seeks to give verisimilitude by +quotations from Confucius, “the Arabian language,” +“Ambulaachamed the Arabian poet,” +and “a South American Ode.” In the half-serious, +half-humorous <cite>Preface</cite> Goldsmith tells +us that “the metaphors and allusions are all +drawn from the East. This formality our +author [<i>i.e.</i> Lien Chi] carefully preserves. +Many of their favourite tenets in morals are +illustrated. The Chinese are grave and sententious; +so is he. But in one particular the resemblance +is peculiarly striking; the Chinese +are often dull, and so is he. Nor has my assistance +been wanting. We are told in an old +romance of a certain knight-errant and his +horse who contracted an intimate friendship. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>The horse most usually bore the knight, but, in +cases of extraordinary despatch, the knight +returned the favour, and carried his horse. +Thus, in the intimacy between my author and +me, he has usually given me a lift of his Eastern +sublimity, and I have sometimes given him a +return of my colloquial ease.”<a id='r216'></a><a href='#f216' class='c011'><sup>[216]</sup></a> Usually Goldsmith +begins a <cite>Letter</cite> with an oriental metaphor +and soon drops into plain English. Sometimes +his philosopher remembers to draw the letter +to a close with a figure of speech. <cite>Letter</cite> II. +begins: “Friend of my Heart, May the wings of +peace rest upon thy dwelling.” In the same +letter the ship’s progress is compared to the +swiftness of an arrow from a Tartar bow. The +goddess of Poverty is likened to a veiled Eastern +bride supposed to be beautiful, but hideous when +the veil is drawn. Vauxhall Gardens look to +Lien Chi like the dreams of Mahomet’s paradise. +But Goldsmith’s sense of humour and instinct +of artistic restraint show him the absurdities of +the pseudo-oriental style, and lead him to use +such figures sparingly.</p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>The tales inserted in the <cite>Citizen of the World</cite> +reveal a similar mastery of material. The +majority are stories with a moral or satirical +import and exemplify some general proposition. +The insincerity and the brevity of effusive affection +are amusingly illustrated by a variant of the +<cite>Matron of Ephesus</cite>: the story of <cite>Choang the +fondest husband and Hansi the most endearing +wife</cite> (<cite>Letter</cite> XVIII.).<a id='r217'></a><a href='#f217' class='c011'><sup>[217]</sup></a> The virtue of benevolence +is set forth in the tale of the good king +Hamti’s triumphal procession, made up of the +poor whose sufferings he had relieved (<cite>Letter</cite> +XXIII.). <cite>The Rise and Decline of the Kingdom +of Lao</cite> (<cite>Letter</cite> XXV.) is a moralistic tale concerning +political evils, and is modeled apparently +on the <cite>History of the Troglodites</cite> in Montesquieu +or Lyttelton. False politeness is ridiculed, first +directly, and then indirectly, by two amusing +letters from the English lady Belinda and the +Chinese lady Yaoua (<cite>Letter</cite> XXXIX.). Each +describes an absurdly ceremonious call which +<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>her suitor makes upon her father. The folly of +avarice is taught by the story of Whang the +miller,—a tale not unlike the familiar one of +the woman who killed the goose that laid the +golden egg (<cite>Letter</cite> LXX.). Injustice thwarted +by quick wit is illustrated in the conclusion of +the story of the clever prime minister (<cite>Letter</cite> +CI.).<a id='r218'></a><a href='#f218' class='c011'><sup>[218]</sup></a> Unjustly accused of misgovernment, he +asked to be banished to a desolate village. His +queen granted the request, but could find no +such village. Hence she realized the universal +prosperity of the country under her vizier’s +rule, and withdrew the unjust accusation. +Several Eastern apologues are also used to +illustrate some generalization. The fable of the +elephant who prayed to be as wise as man, +suffered discontent, and was happy only when +restored to his former state of ignorance, exemplifies +“the misery of a being endowed with +sentiments above its capacity of fruition” +(<cite>Letter</cite> LXXXII.);<a id='r219'></a><a href='#f219' class='c011'><sup>[219]</sup></a> <cite>A Chinese fable, ... Five +animals at a meal</cite>, sets forth the rapacity +of lawyers (<cite>Letter</cite> XCVIII.); and <cite>An Eastern +<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>Apologue of the Genius of Love</cite>, illustrates feminine +insincerity and “false idolatry” (<cite>Letter</cite> +CXIV.). Similar to this apologue is the author’s +dream of the <cite>Glass of Lao</cite> (<cite>Letter</cite> XLVI.), which +reflects the true character of all the ladies who +look into it. All prove to be faulty except +one. Before her face the mirror remains fair,—because +she has been “deaf, dumb, and a +fool from the cradle.” Two allegories in the +manner of Addison and Johnson occur, one of +<cite>Gardens of Vice and Virtue</cite> (<cite>Letter</cite> XXXI.)<a id='r220'></a><a href='#f220' class='c011'><sup>[220]</sup></a>; +the other, of the <cite>Valley of Ignorance</cite>, said by +Goldsmith to be drawn from the <cite>Zend-Avesta</cite>, +but resembling the Happy Valley of <cite>Rasselas</cite> +(<cite>Letter</cite> XXXVII.). In addition to these +more or less humorous short stories with a +moralizing turn, there is one clever parody in +Hamilton’s style, of the fairy stories and oriental +tales: the story of Prince Bonbenin bonbobbin +<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>bonbobbinet and the white mouse with the +green eyes; and one longer romantic narrative: +the love and adventures of the Chinese Philosopher’s +Son and the beautiful Zelis (beginning in +<cite>Letter</cite> VI.).<a id='r221'></a><a href='#f221' class='c011'><sup>[221]</sup></a> Several tales of travel are found +in the account of the Philosopher’s journey to +Europe through countries “where Nature sports +in primeval rudeness.” In general, Goldsmith’s +use of tales and fables is similar to Addison’s +and Johnson’s. His purpose is to say something +serious under the guise of entertainment, +to instruct as well as to amuse. In the mouth +of his Chinese Philosopher the half-serious, half-humorous +criticism gains poignancy.<a id='r222'></a><a href='#f222' class='c011'><sup>[222]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>The concept of this central character stimulated +Goldsmith’s quizzical common sense and +keen appreciation of that incongruity which is +the soul of humour; and also afforded an opportunity +<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>to express his democratic sympathies,—his +benevolence towards all men, Chinese and +English, far and near. This is the more noticeable +in contrast with the attitude of polite +society towards the East. The Chinese Philosopher +is not unduly puffed up by his reception. +“The same earnestness,” he writes, “which +excites them to see a Chinese, would have made +them equally proud of a visit from a rhinoceros.” +The amusing scene (<cite>Letter</cite> XIV.)—already +alluded to (p. 184)—describing Lien Chi’s +visit to the old lady, ridicules the current fad +for grotesque Chinese bric-a-brac. “She took +me through several rooms, all furnished, she +told me, in the Chinese manner; sprawling +dragons, squatting pagodas, and clumsy mandarins +were stuck upon every shelf; in turning +round one must have used caution not to demolish +a part of the precarious furniture. In a +house like this, thought I, one must live continually +upon the watch; the inhabitant must +resemble a knight in an enchanted castle, who +expects to meet an adventure at every turning.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>In general, the oriental decorations of the +book are quite external. Yet the repeated +reference to what the author imagines, or pretends +<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>to imagine, is the Chinese attitude of +mind or turn of phrase, adds to <cite>The Citizen of +the World</cite> a distinct and admirable element of +humour. The book may justly be regarded as one +of the best English oriental tales of the period.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Of the numerous French imitations of Marana +and Montesquieu only a few of any importance +were translated into English, for instance, the +<cite>Chinese Letters</cite> (1741)<a id='r223'></a><a href='#f223' class='c011'><sup>[223]</sup></a> of D’Argens, and the +<cite>Letters of a Peruvian Princess</cite> (1748),<a id='r224'></a><a href='#f224' class='c011'><sup>[224]</sup></a> by Mme. +F. Huguet de Graffigny.</p> + +<p class='c007'>A few other comparatively unimportant +satires similar to the pseudo-letters may be +mentioned briefly. As early as 1705 appeared +<cite>The Consolidator, or Memoirs of sundry transactions +from the World in the Moon. Translated +from the Lunar Language By the Author of +the True-Born Englishman.</cite><a id='r225'></a><a href='#f225' class='c011'><sup>[225]</sup></a> In this prose satire +Defoe imagines the author of these <cite>Memoirs</cite> +journeying from China to the Moon, in a remarkable, +feathered flying-machine called the +“Consolidator,” and criticizing the state of European +society, politics, and letters by comparison +<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>and contrast with Lunar and with Chinese +conditions. Defoe’s <cite>Tour through England</cite>, +(1724–1726), though not satire, is connected +with the genre of pseudo-letters in being written +as if by a foreigner. In 1730 appeared Paul +Chamberlain’s translation of Mme. de Gomez’s +<cite>Persian Anecdotes</cite>,<a id='r226'></a><a href='#f226' class='c011'><sup>[226]</sup></a> “a historical romance,” purporting +to be founded on actual history: “the +singular events in the life of Ismael, Sophy of +Persia,” as related in the memoirs of D’Agout, +De la Porte, and De la Forests, ambassadors of +France at the Porte. The author protests +vigorously against the charge that the romance +is fictitious, but the character of the work seems +to indicate that the charge is well founded. +Upon an incoherent basis of historical fact is +built a still more incoherent and rambling +structure of fiction,—a panorama of stories +concerning innumerable characters, more or less +connected with the figures of the two friends, +Ismael and Tor. Full of battles, insurrections, +crimes, intrigues,—political and romantic,—the +book is commonplace and of little general +value. It is of interest here only because the +externals are oriental: the scenes are laid in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>the East; the proper names are Eastern, and +there is a slight attempt to reproduce oriental +customs. The popularity of the oriental disguise +for various purposes is also shown by +books like the <cite>Perseis or Secret Memoirs for a +History of Persia</cite>.<a id='r227'></a><a href='#f227' class='c011'><sup>[227]</sup></a> The preface to the French +original asserts that the book is translated from +an English work by an Englishman who made +at Ispahan “un assez long séjour.” A Key is +affixed telling who the different characters are, +<i>e.g.</i> Cha-Abbas I. is Louis XIV.; Cha-Sephi I., +Louis XV. The history begins with the death +of Cha-Abbas and continues through part of the +reign of Cha-Sephi I. It is somewhat satirical, +and contains more or less court gossip and +criticism of various personages, but is stupid +reading. <cite>The Conduct of Christians made the +sport of Infidels, in a letter from a Turkish merchant +at Amsterdam to the Grand Mufti at Constantinople +on occasion of ... the late scandalous +quarrel among the clergy</cite> [by Kora Selym Oglan, +<i>pseud.</i>], London, 1717, is a satirical pseudo-letter. +<cite>Milk for Babes, Meat for Strong Men, +and Wine for Petitioners, being a Comical, Sarcastical, +Theological Account of a late Election at +<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>Bagdad for Cailiff of that City. Faithfully Translated +from the Arabick and Collated with the most +Authentick Original Manuscripts By the Great, +Learned and Most Ingenious Alexander the Coppersmith</cite> +[W. Boles?] ... second edition, Cork, +1731, is a worthless political satire. <cite>The Oriental +Chronicles of the Times; being the translation +of a Chinese manuscript supposed to have +been written by Confucius the Sage</cite> [a satirical +account of events in 1784–1785 in defense of +C. J. Fox], London (1785), is arranged in chapters +and verses like the Old Testament and is a +feeble effort. <cite>The Trial and execution of the +Grand Mufti, From an ancient Horsleian manuscript +found in the Cathedral of Rochester</cite>, London +(1795?), is a satire on S. Horsley, Bishop of +Rochester. <cite>A Brief and Merry History of +Great Britain Containing an account of the religious +customs, etc., ... of the people written +originally in Arabick</cite> [by Ali Mohammed Hadji, +<i>pseud.</i>]. <cite>Faithfully rendered into English by +A. H.</cite> [A. Hillier], London (1710?), is a carping +and coarse diatribe on English manners and +life, with rare references to the superiority of +Eastern ways, in the manner of the <cite>Turkish +Spy</cite>, but far inferior.</p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>Smollett’s political satire, the <cite>History and +Adventures of an Atom</cite> (1769),<a id='r228'></a><a href='#f228' class='c011'><sup>[228]</sup></a> is a pretended +account of Japanese events as chronicled by a +personified atom, who, by means of ridiculing +the Japanese people, actually satirizes the English, +<i>e.g.</i> in the description of the Council’s going +to sleep while discussing the defense of the +nation from foreign invaders; or that of the +councilor who endeavoured to make a speech +and could only cackle. Smollett’s introduction +is picturesque. He imagines himself meeting +“an old maid in black Bombazine,” the administratrix +of Nathaniel Peacock. She gives him +Peacock’s manuscript, which recounts how the +atom appeared to Peacock and told him of its +experiences in Japan. The book as a whole is +of trifling value, occasionally humorous or +bitterly sarcastic, and often coarse.<a id='r229'></a><a href='#f229' class='c011'><sup>[229]</sup></a> Defoe’s +<cite>System of Magic</cite> (1726)<a id='r230'></a><a href='#f230' class='c011'><sup>[230]</sup></a> contains the <cite>Story of +Ali Abrahazen and the Devil</cite> and the <cite>Story +of the Arabian Magician in Egypt</cite>.<a id='r231'></a><a href='#f231' class='c011'><sup>[231]</sup></a> Finally, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span><cite>The Bramine’s Journal</cite> by Laurence Sterne, +an unpublished manuscript now in the British +Museum, is an interesting instance of the utilization +of the oriental disguise.<a id='r232'></a><a href='#f232' class='c011'><sup>[232]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>Enough has been said to illustrate the tendency +in England to use oriental fiction for the +purpose of social and political satire. In France +such satire was frequently combined with parody +of the rambling, complicated structure of many +oriental tales, <i>e.g.</i> the frame-tale; and also with +ridicule of the “oriental” style and diction. In +England there was almost no parody of the +narrative form of the oriental tale. Criticism +tended rather to parody of the oriental diction +and to frank mockery of the entire genre.</p> + +<p class='c007'>In one translation from the French the satire +is purely social: Marmontel’s <cite>Soliman II.</cite><a id='r233'></a><a href='#f233' class='c011'><sup>[233]</sup></a> +<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>(1764). This story, one of the cleverest of all +Marmontel’s <cite>Contes Moraux</cite>, recounts briefly the +conquest of the great sultan by a pretty European +slave, Roxalana,—a conquest so complete +that her “little, turned-up nose” overthrows +the laws of the empire. In the original +preface the author writes: “I proposed to +myself to display the folly of those who use +authority to bring a woman to reason; and I +chose for an example a sultan and his slave, as +being two extremes of power and dependence.”<a id='r234'></a><a href='#f234' class='c011'><sup>[234]</sup></a> +When the story opens, Soliman, afflicted with +ennui, demands in place of the “soft docility”<a id='r235'></a><a href='#f235' class='c011'><sup>[235]</sup></a> +found in his Eastern women, the charms of +“hearts nourished in the bosom of liberty.” +Three European slaves are therefore brought to +his seraglio. The first, Elmira, is beautiful and +affectionate; the second, Delia, has a charming +voice; with each Soliman is content for a brief +time. The third is the madcap Roxalana, who +expostulates against the restraints of the seraglio +with such vivacity that, despite her lack +<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>of regular beauty, her piquant charm “disconcerts +the gravity” of Soliman. “But the great, +in his situation, have the resource of silence; and +Soliman, not knowing how to answer her, fairly +walked off, concealing his embarrassment under +an air of majesty.” At another time, he says: +“But, Roxalana, do you forget who I am, and +who you are?”—“Who you are and who I +am? You are powerful, I am pretty; and so +we are even.” She continues to laugh at him, +to do exactly as she pleases, and to entertain +him with clever satire on European ways and +Eastern customs. Finally, in order to impress +her, he allows her to see him in all his +glory, receiving ambassadors. But the effect on +Roxalana is startling. “Get you gone out of +my sight,” she says to him.... “Is this your +art of love? Glory and grandeur, the only good +things ... are reserved for you alone, and you +would have me love you!... If my lover had +but a hut, I would share his hut with him and +be content. He has a throne; I will share his +throne or he is no lover of mine. If you think +me unworthy to reign over the Turks, send me +back to my own country where all pretty +women are sovereigns.” There is nothing for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>Soliman to do but to marry this extraordinary +slave “in contempt of the laws of the sultans.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Among the translations from the French +showing mingled social and literary satire, Voltaire’s +tales<a id='r236'></a><a href='#f236' class='c011'><sup>[236]</sup></a> take precedence, notably <cite>The Black +and the White</cite>; <cite>The White Bull</cite>; <cite>The Princess of +Babylon</cite>; <cite>Memnon the Philosopher</cite>; and <cite>Bababec</cite>. +The scenes of part of Voltaire’s <cite>Travels of +Scarmentado</cite> are laid in the East. <cite>The Princess +of Babylon</cite> may be taken to illustrate Voltaire’s +method. The aged Belus, so the story begins, +“thought himself the first man upon earth; for +all his courtiers told him so, and his historians +proved it.” An oracle had ordained that the +hand of his daughter, the surpassingly beautiful +Formosanta, should be given only to the prince +who could bend the bow of Nimrod and kill a +ferocious lion. At a gorgeous tournament three +kings strove in vain. Suddenly a handsome +youth appeared, riding on an unicorn and bearing +a phœnix on his wrist. He bent the bow, +saved the life of one of his rivals, sent a love +poem to the princess, cut off the lion’s head, +gracefully drew its teeth, replaced them with +magnificent diamonds, and gave the trophy to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>his phœnix. “Beautiful bird,” said he, “carry +this small homage and lay it at the feet of Formosanta.” +The great admiration and curiosity +aroused, were increased by his sudden departure +on receiving news of his father’s mortal +illness. After this opening scene, the rest of +the story recounts the wanderings of the princess +through almost all the known countries of Asia +and Europe in search of the stranger, until they +are finally reunited. The extravagant plot, incident, +and diction of the earlier oriental tales +are entertainingly parodied, and the travels of +the princess and her lover give a good opportunity +for keen satire on European customs and +ideas. For instance, in one country the princess +finds that birds also meet in a grove to worship +God, and that they have some parrots that +preach wonderfully well. Voltaire’s satire strikes +the hypocrisy of self-seeking clergy, the frivolity +of “at least one hundred thousand” Parisians, +and the wickedness of inquisitors who burned +their victims “for the love of God.” With +satire in one hand and praise in the other, he +commends reason in the Germans, good government +among the English, and ideal government +in Russia, which he calls the Cimmerians’ land, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>probably meaning that ideal government is yet +in Cimmerian darkness.</p> + +<p class='c007'><cite>The Black and the White</cite>, a distinct and +clever parody on oriental stories and fairy +tales, recounts the passion of Rustan for a princess +of Cashmere, who proves to be imaginary. +He goes through marvelous adventures under +the guidance of a good genius, “the White,” +and an evil genius, “the Black.” But in the +end he awakes out of an hour’s sleep to find +that he has dreamed all his adventures, including +the death of his princess and his own mortal +wound. “Take heart,” said Topaz; “you never +were at Kaboul; ... the princess cannot be +dead, because she never was born; and you are +in perfect health.” <cite>The White Bull</cite> is a similar +satire on oriental stories and fairy tales, and also +on the miracles of the Old Testament and ignorant +worship. The White Bull is the metamorphosed +Nebuchadnezzar, who receives human +form at the last and marries the princess of +Egypt. Other characters are the Witch of Endor, +Jonah’s whale, Balaam’s ass, and the serpent +of Eden. <cite>Memnon the Philosopher</cite> is a satire on +the vanity of attempting to be a perfect philosopher. +<cite>Bababec</cite> is a sketch, mocking the folly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>of religious fanatics by describing the Fakir who +becomes famous and thinks himself religious because +he tortures himself with nails, in contrast +with the wisdom of men who live useful, sensible +lives.<a id='r237'></a><a href='#f237' class='c011'><sup>[237]</sup></a> <cite>The Travels of Scarmentado</cite>, a satire +on persecution for conscience’ sake, recounts one +incident that recalls <cite>The Female Captive</cite> (cf. +p. 50, <i>ante</i>). The hero hears a fair Circassian +say “Alla, Illa, Alla” so tenderly that he thinks +the words are expressions of love, and repeats +them in his turn. He is accused of having become +a Turk by saying those words, and escapes +only with a fine. He flees to Persia. In his +own words: “On my arrival at Ispahan, the +people asked me whether I was for white or +black mutton? I told them that it was a +matter of indifference to me, provided it was +tender. It must be observed that the Persian +empire was at that time split into two factions, +that of the white mutton and that of the black. +The two parties imagined that I had made a +jest of them both; so that I found myself engaged +in a very troublesome affair at the gates +<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>of the city, and it cost me a great number of sequins +to get rid of the white and the black mutton.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>In all these tales—even those that are apparently +written for mere amusement—Voltaire’s +genius, masterly command of his material, +and intense hatred of hypocrisy and injustice +give to his satire a keen and penetrating quality +which at once differentiates it from the comparatively +care-free and superficial fun of Marmontel, +Caylus, Bougeant, and Hamilton.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The three last named are the only other +French satirists of any consequence whose +works were translated into English in this +period. <cite>The Oriental Tales</cite> (1745)<a id='r238'></a><a href='#f238' class='c011'><sup>[238]</sup></a> of Caylus +is a good parody of the collections of oriental +stories. The frame-tale, itself a satire upon +the interminable method of story within story, +is briefly as follows: Hudjadge, King of Persia, +though gentle by nature, grows tyrannical from +insomnia. He commands his jailer on pain of +death to find a story-teller who can lull him to +sleep. The jailer’s beautiful daughter Moradbak +offers herself somewhat as Scheherazade +does in the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, and succeeds so +admirably that the sultan sleeps in peace, regains +<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>his temper, and marries her. The first +tale she tells is the appropriate <cite>History of Dakianos +and the Seven Sleepers</cite>, and the king, “whose +eyes had begun to close during the recital, ... +came to himself when she had ceased speaking. +‘I am satisfied,’ said he; ... ‘I listened with +some attention to the beginning of the history, +but I did not interest myself much for thy +little dog, and I was almost asleep with Jemlikha, +as if I had been in his cavern; therefore, +I know not much of what passed afterwards.’—‘If +your majesty has the least curiosity ... I +will begin ... again.’—‘No, no,’ said the +king, ‘I have enough for the first time.’” After +another tale “the sultan ... had appeared +very wide awake all the time, though he might +with reason have dropt asleep at some parts of +it.” Caylus succeeded only too well with his +parody; most of his stories are decidedly +soporific. A few familiar tales, such as the +<cite>Seven Sleepers</cite>, and some entertaining stories +like <cite>Jahia and Meimoune</cite>, break the otherwise +uniform monotony. For oriental colouring we +find the usual references to Mohametan legend: +the mountain of Kaf, which surrounds the world +and is composed of one emerald; the angel Israphil; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>magical flights; genii and monsters; devout +heroes; Solomon’s ring; a treasure-cave accessible +to an old dervish by means of his magic +candlestick; and curious riddles like those in the +<cite>Persian Tales</cite>. The descriptions are fantastic, +extravagant, and occasionally coarse. Though +the <cite>Oriental Tales</cite> is said to have been based +upon genuine oriental manuscripts, it shows few +traces of any such source, and is of value chiefly +as exemplifying the tendency towards parody.</p> + +<p class='c007'><cite>The Wonderful Travels of Prince Fan-Feredin, +in the country of Arcadia, interspersed with observations +historical, geographical, physical, critical, +and moral. Translated from the original French +of Guillaume Hyacinthe Bougeant</cite>, Northampton, +n. d.,<a id='r239'></a><a href='#f239' class='c011'><sup>[239]</sup></a> is an entertaining parody on the heroic +romances by name, <i>e.g.</i> <cite>Astrea</cite>, <cite>Palmerin</cite>, etc., +and on the fairy tales, with occasional satirical +remarks on the oriental tales as well.</p> + +<p class='c007'>One of the most popular of all the parodies +and satires that followed so rapidly on the +heels of the extravagant pseudo-translations in +France was <cite>Fleur d’Epine</cite>, by Count Anthony +Hamilton, the author of the <cite>Memoirs of Count +Grammont</cite>. The English version, <cite>Thorn-Flower</cite>, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>1760,<a id='r240'></a><a href='#f240' class='c011'><sup>[240]</sup></a> lost much of the wit and charm of Hamilton’s +style, and yet kept, of course, the humour of +situation and narrative. How Hamilton began +to write these tales, half earnest, half satirical, is +quite in keeping with their light and entertaining +character. “The conversation happened to +turn in a company in which he was present on +the <cite>Arabian Nights’ Entertainments</cite>, which were +just published; every one highly commended +the book; many seemed to hint at the difficulty +of writing that species of composition. ‘Nothing +can be more easy,’ replied Count Hamilton, +‘and as a proof of it I will venture to write a +Circassian tale after the manner of the <cite>Arabian +Nights’ Entertainments</cite> on any subject which you +can mention.’—‘Fiddlesticks!’ (Tarare) replied +the other.—‘You have hit it,’ said Count Hamilton; +‘and I promise you that I shall produce a +tale in which Fiddlestick shall be the principal +hero.’ In a few days he finished this tale, which +he called <cite>Fleur d’Epine</cite>. It was much read and +admired in Paris.”<a id='r241'></a><a href='#f241' class='c011'><sup>[241]</sup></a> The popularity is not surprising, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>for the story is an exceedingly clever +imitation—and parody—of its extravagant +predecessors. The author pretends that it is +one of the <cite>Arabian Nights’ Entertainments</cite>, and +in the introductory scene puts into the mouth +of Dinarzade some capital mockery of the long-winded +confusion of some of her sister Scheherazade’s +tales. Throughout, as in Hamilton’s +other tales, the interruptions and comments +by the audience form comic interludes. Hamilton +has caught the manner of the earlier stories +admirably, and heightens it in ostensible seriousness +just enough to bring it within the pale +of ridicule. To say that his story is located +far in the East is not sufficient. He proceeds +to say exactly how far: “two thousand four +hundred and fifty leagues from here.” His +princess, like her prototypes, is superlatively +fair; but, moreover, her eyes are so brilliant +that men die from her glance as if struck by +lightning, and the artist who paints her portrait +is obliged to wear smoked glasses. The introduction +of the hero is farcical. He is a disguised +prince, and when asked by the caliph what his +name is, startles the whole court by replying, +“‘Tarare!’ (Fiddlestick!) ‘Tarare!’ says the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>caliph; ‘Tarare!’ say all the counselors; +‘Tarare!’ says the Chancellor. ‘I ask you,’ +says the caliph, ‘what is your name?’—‘I +know it well, Sire,’ he replies.—‘Well, then,’ +says the caliph.—‘Tarare!’ says the other, +making a bow.... ‘And why are you named +Tarare?’—‘Because that is not my name.’ +‘And how so?’ says the caliph.—‘It is because +I have dropped my name to assume this +one,’ says he.—‘Nothing could be clearer,’ +says the caliph, ‘and yet it would have taken +me more than a month to find it out.’” The +characterization is purposely colourless, as in +the parodied tales. Yet there is occasionally a +clever bit of character analysis, such as the +account of May-Flower’s sudden interest in her +rival. In the use of magic, Hamilton’s fancy +runs riot side by side with his keen sense of the +ridiculous; here his parody reaches its highest +point. One of the tasks set the hero is the theft +from an old witch of the “sounding mare.” +That remarkable creature carried a golden bell +on every hair, and thus made “ravishing music.” +The ingenious Tarare silenced this music by filling +each bell with a kind of glue, mounted the +mare with May-Flower, and fled from the pursuing +<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>sorceress. The latter nearly succeeded in +coming up with them, when at the last desperate +moment, “Sonante,” the mare, shook her +left ear three times. The prince found in it a +little stone, which he threw over his left shoulder. +Instantly and just in time to save them there +arose out of the ground a protecting wall, only +sixty feet high, but so long that one could see +neither the beginning nor the end. Other difficulties +in the hero’s path consisted of the animals +that opposed his passage through the +forest. “One would say that these accursed +beasts knew his purpose, for in place of taking +pains to come at him, they merely spread out +to right and left; three hydras, ten rhinoceroses, +and some half dozen of griffons, gazed +upon his progress. He knew the rules of war +well enough; so, after having examined the situation +and their appearance, he saw their design, +and since the sides were not equal, he had recourse +to stratagem.” One marvelous event +is piled upon another until the author breaks +out into an apostrophe: “Oh! how great a +help are enchantments in the dénouement of an +intrigue or end of a tale!”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Another of Count Hamilton’s stories, <cite>Le +<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>Bélier</cite>,<a id='r242'></a><a href='#f242' class='c011'><sup>[242]</sup></a> half parody, half imitation of the fairy +tales, incidentally pokes fun at the oriental +tales, too. The fair heroine, Alie, insane with +love, imagines that she is Scheherazade in the +<cite>Thousand and One Nights</cite>, and that she must +at once tell a tale. In the midst of her soliloquy +she falls asleep, to be awakened by her father, +who is somewhat startled to have her address +him as “Great Commander of the Faithful!” +The Ram is an enchanted prince who tells a +tale to his master, the giant, beginning abruptly: +“‘After the white fox was wounded, the queen +did not fail to visit him.’ ‘Friend Ram,’ said +the giant, interrupting him, ‘I do not understand +that at all. If you would begin at the +beginning, you would give me pleasure; these +tales that begin in the middle only confuse<a id='r243'></a><a href='#f243' class='c011'><sup>[243]</sup></a> +my imagination.’—‘Very well,’ said the Ram. +‘I consent, against the usual custom, to put +each event in its place; the beginning of my +story shall be at the commencement of my +recital.’” Later, when the story-teller follows +the conventional method in leaving some of his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>personages on a magic island at a critical juncture, +the giant again objects, and forbids him to +leave the island until he has quite finished their +story. Of talismans, Hamilton says: “Great +was the virtue of ancient talismans, and even +greater the faith of those that believed in them.” +He describes extravagant emotions thus: “Joy, +astonishment, and anxiety were simultaneously +depicted on the face of the druid, though it is +rather difficult to depict them all at once on +the same face.”</p> + +<p class='c007'><cite>Les Quatre Facardins</cite>,<a id='r244'></a><a href='#f244' class='c011'><sup>[244]</sup></a> the last in order of +composition of Hamilton’s tales, is the least +interesting. As the author confesses, in his +rhymed preface, one who like himself sets out +jokingly to imitate and to make fun of such +absurdities ends by becoming equally absurd. +That is true of <cite>The Four Facardins</cite>. No oriental +tale could be more extravagant in plot +and incident. The various adventures of the +four princes of the same name, Facardin, are +so utterly tangled that the reader, like the giant +in <cite>Le Bélier</cite>, feels as if his imagination were +<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>becoming “embrouillée.” It is not surprising +that the author left the story unfinished. The +frame-tale begins hopefully to recount how +Prince Facardin of Trebizonde tells his adventures +to Sultan Schariar, Scheherazade, and +Dinarzade; but, after the other Facardins begin +their own stories, the main thread would be +hard to follow, were that necessary. Their +various adventures include encounters with +lions, enchanters, giants, and fair ladies, and +are enlivened with fanciful descriptions,—sometimes +in questionable taste,—and occasional +humour. On the whole <cite>The Four Facardins</cite> +is not nearly so entertaining as Hamilton’s +other tales.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The only English writer who made a deliberate +attempt to parody the structure of the +oriental tales was Horace Walpole. His <cite>Hieroglyphic +Tales</cite> (1785)<a id='r245'></a><a href='#f245' class='c011'><sup>[245]</sup></a> are, as the postscript says, +“mere whimsical trifles, written chiefly for private +amusement; half a dozen copies only are +printed.” But even though a mere skit, the +book is interesting as a straw to show which +way the wind was blowing. The Preface is a +rather clever satire on the pretentious, highly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>moralistic, and would-be scholarly prefaces to +oriental tales; and informs the reader that “the +Hieroglyphic Tales were undoubtedly written a +little before the creation of the world ... and +preserved by oral tradition in the mountains +of Crampcraggi, an uninhabited island not yet +discovered.” The seven short stories which +make up the book are somewhat similar to +Hamilton’s. The scene of the first, <cite>A New +Arabian Nights’ Entertainment</cite>, is laid in the +kingdom of Larbidel. “The other side of the +mountain was inhabited by a nation of whom +the Larbidellians knew no more than the +French nobility do of Great Britain, which they +think is an island that somehow or other may +be approached by land.” The other stories are +also parodies: <cite>The King and his Three Daughters</cite>; +<cite>The Dice-box</cite>; <cite>The Peach in Brandy, a Milesian +Tale</cite>; <cite>Mi Li, a Chinese Fairy Tale</cite>; and a +<cite>Venetian Love-story</cite> of two black slaves who +prove to be dogs.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Walpole’s tone of supercilious mockery toward +the oriental tales was typical of critical +opinion generally between the middle of the +century and the end of our period (c. 1786). +Preluded by Pope’s ridicule of Ambrose Philips as</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>“The bard whom pilfer’d Pastorals renown,</div> + <div class='line'>Who Turns a Persian Tale for half-a-crown,”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>such criticism found its best expression in +Goldsmith. <cite>The Citizen of the World</cite> (<cite>Letter</cite> +XXXIII.) ridicules authors who attempt “to +write in the true Eastern style, where nothing +is required but sublimity.” Lien Chi is amused +to hear an English lady say: “Oh, for a history +of Aboulfaouris [<i>sic</i>], the grand voyager, of +genii, magicians, rocs, bags of bullets, giants, +and enchanters, where all is great, obscure, magnificent, +and unintelligible;” and even more +amused when an author in the company rejoins: +“I have written many a sheet of Eastern +tale myself ... and I defy the severest critic +to say but that I have stuck close to the true +manner. I have compared a lady’s chin to the +snow upon the mountains of Bomek; a soldier’s +sword to the clouds that obscure the face of +heaven. If riches are mentioned, I compare +them to the flocks that graze the verdant Tefflis; +if poverty, to the mists that veil the brow of +mount Baku. I have used <i>thee</i> and <i>thou</i> upon +all occasions, I have described fallen stars, and +splitting mountains, not forgetting the little +Houris who make a pretty figure in every description. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>But you shall hear how I generally +begin. ‘Eben-ben-bolo, who was the son of +Ban, was born on the foggy summits of Benderabassi. +His beard was whiter than the +feathers which veil the breast of the Penguin; +his eyes were like the eyes of doves, when +washed by the dews of the morning; his hair, +which hung like the willow weeping over the +glassy stream, was so beautiful that it seemed +to reflect its own brightness; and his feet were +as the feet of a wild deer, which fleeth to the +tops of the mountains.’ There, there, is the +true Eastern taste for you; every advance made +towards sense is only a deviation from sound. +Eastern tales should always be sonorous, lofty, +musical, and unmeaning.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Except for the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, many of the +oriental tales that had appeared up to 1760–1761, +when Goldsmith wrote, or even up to the +date of Walpole’s parody (1785), gave considerable +provocation for such criticism. Indeed, to +a certain extent, the vogue of these tales was +another expression of the tendency more grotesquely +manifested in the current craze, likewise +ridiculed, for Chinese domestic architecture +and house furnishings. “A few years ago,” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>William Whitehead writes (<cite>World</cite>, No. 12, +1753), “everything was Gothic, now it is +Chinese.” In 1754 William Lloyd describes a +country place decorated by “Chinese artists”:—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“The trav’ler with amazement sees</div> + <div class='line'>A temple, Gothic or Chinese;</div> + <div class='line'>With many a bell and tawdry rag on,</div> + <div class='line'>And crested with a wooden dragon.”<a id='r246'></a><a href='#f246' class='c011'><sup>[246]</sup></a></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>The <cite>World</cite>, No. 117, ridicules the “applause so +fondly given to Chinese decorations or to the +barbarous productions of a Gothic genius which +seems once more to threaten the ruin of ... +[Greek] ... simplicity ... [which is so] ... +superior.” The same essay describes a visit +to Lady Fiddlefaddle’s Chinese dressing-room. +She had thrown aside her grandfather’s fine +Italian pictures for the sake of red dragons, +“pagods,” and ugly monsters. Just as “the +Greek and Roman architecture are discarded for +the novelties of China ... [so] Correggio is neglected +for gothic designs ... and the tinsel of +a Burletta has more admirers than the gold of +Shakespeare.”<a id='r247'></a><a href='#f247' class='c011'><sup>[247]</sup></a> It may be, Warton goes on to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>say, that an attempt to improve this state of +learning and taste will be thought “romantic ... +and chimerical.” The <cite>Connoisseur</cite>, No. +122, ridicules the faults of a man of fashion who +goes so far as to think the Bible to be “as romantic +as the Alcoran.” To a writer in the +<cite>World</cite>, No. 70, one redeeming quality in the +craze for oriental tales is the fact that some of +them “contain useful morals and well-drawn +pictures from common life.” A later contributor +to the same periodical, No. 121, writes to +the editor: “Among the many visions related +by your predecessors and contemporaries, the +writers of periodical essays, I remember few but +what have been in the oriental style.” And he +adds a sentence which may be taken as epitomizing +the critical opinion of his contemporaries: +“For my own part, I am neither Dervise nor +Brachman, but a poet and a true Christian.”</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span> + <h2 class='c006'>CHAPTER V<br> <span class='c012'>LITERARY ESTIMATE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>Upon a general survey of the four groups +of oriental tales described in the preceding +chapters, one is impressed by the exceedingly +diversified nature of the collection, and—paradoxical +though the statement may seem—by +the presence of a sufficient number of common +qualities to give the collection as a whole a +distinctive character: it is “the oriental tale in +England in the eighteenth century.” In form +this fiction includes within its wide range the +frame-tale, in which stories—sometimes in +letter-form—are inclosed; isolated apologues +and other short tales used to point the moral of +an Addisonian or Johnsonian essay; fantastic +tales in which adventure is everything; tales +equally fantastic but coloured by satire; and +tales with the thinnest possible thread of plot +to sustain the predominant satiric, moralistic, or +philosophic purpose. The characterization is +uniformly slight, and tends toward more or less +abstract types. The scene is laid in the Orient, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>from Egypt to China, or in Europe visited by +Orientals; and is given a picturesque background +of strange Eastern customs, sometimes +enriched by allusions to religious or philosophical +beliefs, often by lavish use of magic and enchantment. +Oriental or pseudo-oriental nomenclature +aids in producing the desired effect of +remoteness. The language is usually coloured +by oriental phraseology, and is frequently—but +not necessarily—figurative and inflated. As +might be expected, the amount of local colour, +the richness of detail, and the truth to oriental +manners and places are greater as the stories +approximate genuine Eastern fiction like the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite>. At the other end of the scale, +in thoroughly Anglicized oriental tales, such as +<cite>Rasselas</cite> and <cite>Nourjahad</cite>, the background is pale +and shadowy, details are sparse, and references +to Eastern places and customs are rare. But +in all this fiction there is a distinctly exotic +flavour, distilled through the medium of eighteenth-century +ideas.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The general course of development of the +genre in England followed the lines of the similar +French movement, but with characteristically +different emphasis. In France the movement—preluded +<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>by the pseudo-oriental satire, +<cite>The Turkish Spy</cite>—was initiated by highly +imaginative oriental translations contemporaneous +with the fairy tales of Perrault. It was +continued by imitations in which qualities +from both oriental tales and fairy tales were +blended,—notably extravagant invention and +magic; by literary parodies aimed at form and +style; and by social satires, ranging from comments +on manners to philosophic criticism of +life. Finally, the natural decline of the oriental +tale as a genre, together with that of the fairy +tale, was hastened by the weight of extreme +license on the one hand and of moralistic didacticism +on the other. In England, the <cite>Arabian +Nights</cite> and its companions were warmly welcomed, +but there was no sudden efflorescence +of imaginative and fanciful fiction as there had +been in France. English writers at first contented +themselves, as far as imaginative tales +were concerned, with translating from the +French. It is worth noting that they did not +translate the fairy tales of Perrault until 1729.<a id='r248'></a><a href='#f248' class='c011'><sup>[248]</sup></a> +The blending of the fairy tales with the oriental +<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>tales in France was one of the most striking +characteristics of the movement, and the comparative +lack of the fairy element in England +limited, in so far, the initial scope of the English +movement. But in France, after the first +furore, no new kinds of purely imaginative oriental +stories or fairy tales appeared; while in +England, from time to time throughout the century, +imaginative oriental tales were written, +including realistic stories, a tragic romance, +<cite>Charoba</cite> (translated from a seventeenth-century +French version), and a tale of terror, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span><cite>Vathek</cite>. In both countries dramas, especially +farces, were based on this fiction.<a id='r249'></a><a href='#f249' class='c011'><sup>[249]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>Satire in France—as suggested above—followed +two lines of development: the social +line inaugurated by Marana, and the literary +or parodic,—a natural reaction from the extravagances +of the imaginative tales. English +satire in oriental guise was chiefly social, occasionally +political, rarely parodic. The reaction +against the enthusiasm with which the oriental +tales had been greeted, was voiced not so much +in actual parody as in direct ridicule or critical +disapproval. Pope’s friend, Bishop Atterbury, +was not alone in thinking “the Arabian Tales” +“so extravagant, monstrous, and disproportioned” +that they “gave a judicious eye pain.”<a id='r250'></a><a href='#f250' class='c011'><sup>[250]</sup></a> +Pope’s own gibe at the hack-writer who could +“turn a Persian tale for half-a-crown” was +echoed fifty years later by Goldsmith: “Mr. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>Tibs [is] a very <i>useful hand</i>; he writes receipts +for the bite of a mad dog and throws off an +eastern tale to perfection.”<a id='r251'></a><a href='#f251' class='c011'><sup>[251]</sup></a> What there was +of parody was directed against the so-called +oriental diction and phraseology, while in +France parody was aimed chiefly at the narrative +form and the extravagance of incident. +On the whole, English satire had a narrower +range and followed chiefly the line of light and +cheerful humour best exemplified in <cite>The Citizen +of the World</cite>. French satire, more pervasive +and more penetrating, expressed—especially +when touched by the genius of Voltaire and +Montesquieu—something of the deep unrest +of France in the eighteenth century, the era +before the Revolution. Even the <i>contes philosophiques</i> +are tinged with satire. The typical +English writer of philosophic oriental tales, on +the contrary, dwelt in an imaginary country of +pure speculation, and entered the world of fact +only for the purpose of moralizing.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The emphasis which in France was thrown +upon satire fell in England upon philosophy and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>morals. From <cite>The Vision of Mirza</cite> to <cite>Rasselas</cite>; +from Parnell’s <cite>Hermit</cite> to Miss Edgeworth’s +<cite>Murad the Unlucky</cite>; throughout the entire +period the two tendencies were steadily prominent. +At the outset, Addison and Steele set +the example of wresting the new imaginative +oriental fiction just received from France out of +its original shape into something more conformable +to their sincere ideas of worthy literature. +Dr. Johnson and many others, especially in the +periodical essays, intensified this didactic tradition. +In literary merit the philosophic tales +take precedence over the moralistic, though the +latter are far more numerous. Enough has been +said in the preceding chapters to make clear the +character of the two groups. The questions at +present of greater importance in our discussion +are the reasons why the genre in England followed +the philosophic and moralistic tendencies +and the other lines of development mentioned +in the preceding paragraphs. How may we account +for the presence and more or less general +popularity of this fiction in England during the +eighteenth century? Why were the imaginative +tales so soon diverted to didactic purposes?</p> + +<p class='c007'>The environment into which the <cite>Arabian +<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>Nights</cite> and the <cite>Persian Tales</cite> came was that of +an age which expressed itself most naturally in +rationalistic prose and satiric verse. The moralizing +tendency, characteristic also of the eighteenth +century on the continent, has been called +a fundamental instinct of the British character; +and at that time was so powerful and widespread +as to colour all English literature. Even +Fielding did not escape, much less the writers +of these Eastern stories. The environment +proved stronger than the new organism. Too +exotic to become easily acclimated, such tales +were regarded as entertaining trifles, to be +tolerated seriously only when utilized to point +a moral. The moralizing tendency and the +rationalistic mood were two barriers opposed to +the free development of imaginative oriental +fiction. A third obstacle was the deference +shown to the canons of French classicism. All +things French were welcomed, but only those +sanctioned by Boileau found lasting and serious +consideration; and the sober second thought +of Augustan criticism was thus strengthened in +its disdain of the oriental tale. Furthermore, a +barrier existed in the insularity of English life +and thought. Aside from her connection with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>France, England was surprisingly insular in +the early eighteenth century. Literary England +was confined, in large measure, to London alone, +because of the practical difficulties of communicating +with the country. Roads were bad, +journeys difficult and perilous. Foreign travel +was by no means so common as later in the +century. The East was indeed the “Far East,” +chiefly used as a figure of speech for fabulous +wealth or excessive tyranny. Usually the contrast +was drawn in favour of England. Dyer, +in his poem, <cite>The Fleece</cite>, even praises the happy +English sheep in comparison with the less +favoured sheep of other lands. Mohammedanism +was regarded as an imposture and Buddhism +was practically unknown. It was not until the +victories of Clive in India and the era of expansion +under the elder Pitt that England took any +vital interest in the Orient,—an interest first +expressed in literature by direct translations +from oriental language in the last quarter of +the century. In the earlier decades, England, +on the whole prosperous and peaceful under +Walpole’s long rule, was satisfied with her insularity; +a feeling voiced by Shenstone in the +poem entitled, <cite>Declining an invitation to visit +<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>foreign Countries, he takes Occasion to intimate +the Advantages of his own</cite>.<a id='r252'></a><a href='#f252' class='c011'><sup>[252]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'>But, even had there been no such obstacles +to overcome in the environment, a barrier to +the free imaginative development of the oriental +tale would have existed in the character of the +first eighteenth-century translations of oriental +fiction. They lacked too frequently not only +the graphic detail, which in accounts of far +distant lands fascinates the reader, but also +the deeper elements of characterization that +make the whole world kin and are the most +potent means of breaking down superficial +barriers between alien peoples. When Galland +prepared his version of the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> for +European readers, he omitted not only the +coarseness of the original, but also many of its +interesting minutiæ, details which give to our +later versions—Burton’s and Payne’s, for instance—the +charm of good tales of travel, and +produce in the reader the vivid sense of actually +being in the picturesque Orient. The French +and English successors of Galland followed him +in this respect and fell short even of his achievement. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>Hardly any English writers until past +the middle of the century knew or apparently +cared to know the East well, either through +travel or through books; hence the pale and +colourless quality of their oriental fiction.<a id='r253'></a><a href='#f253' class='c011'><sup>[253]</sup></a> Beckford +was the first to introduce much picturesque +detail, and in so doing anticipated the methods +of Moore, Southey, Byron, and their successors.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The lack of vivid descriptions, however, was +far less serious than the presence of alien elements +without the saving grace of deep human +interest. Unlike Gothic legend, Celtic poem, or +English ballad, the oriental tale formed no intimate +part of the national heritage. Something +latent or sleeping in the nature of the English +people was roused during this century by a +sudden revival of interest in things their ancestors +had loved and lived with; and Percy’s +<cite>Reliques</cite>, Walpole’s <cite>Castle of Otranto</cite>, the <cite>Poems +of Ossian</cite>, struck a responsive chord. But the +oriental tale was alien; and incident, atmosphere, +fancies, understood and liked by Eastern +listeners, seemed too grotesque and incredible +<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>to make more than a limited appeal to untraveled +English readers. They welcomed, +rather, with characteristic heartiness the homely, +realistic background of Defoe’s stories. If the +oriental tale had emphasized the more fundamental +elements of human character—the passions +of love, hate, ambition, revenge—in addition +to the spirit of adventure and delight in +the picturesque and the mysterious, then whatever +was alien in setting or incident would have +been no barrier. For instance, the oriental +custom most frequently alluded to by English +writers throughout the century is the suttee. +They were impressed not only by the outlandish +barbarity of the custom, but also by the universal +ideal of supreme fidelity in love and +heroic devotion to religious belief. Witness also +the strong appeal made to-day to Western imaginations +by modern versions of Afghan ballads +afire with passion; or by romantic legends like +that of the Persian sculptor, Farhad, and the +Princess Schirin.<a id='r254'></a><a href='#f254' class='c011'><sup>[254]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>But in spite of all these barriers to the free +imaginative development of this fiction,—the +rationalistic classicism; the moralistic, philosophic, +and satiric moods; the insularity of the +English people; and the alien characteristics of +the oriental tale,—nevertheless, the presence +and the genuine if limited popularity of this +fiction in eighteenth-century England are undeniable +facts. The reasons behind these facts +will bring us to the question of the ultimate +significance of the genre as a manifestation of +the Romantic spirit.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The first and obvious reason for the welcome +given the oriental tale by the London of Pope +and Addison—despite Bishop Atterbury’s censure—was +that it came from France. Especially +since 1660, French influence had +prevailed in England, French literary critics +were regarded as authoritative, and French +fashions in literature were followed. Since, +then, the vogue of the oriental tale was so great +in France, it was naturally echoed in England. +That the fairy tales—equally popular in +France—did not cross the Channel at that time +may be due to the fact that Perrault drew directly +from French folk-lore, and hence made an especial +<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>appeal to the French people; and that the +Countess D’Aulnoy and other aristocratic ladies +gave to the stories they retold from Straparola +a prestige only local. Moreover, the fairy tales—charming +as they are—lack the quality +possessed by the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>,—what we +have called “the sense of reality in the midst +of unreality,” a quality particularly attractive +to English readers.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The same fact of French influence accounts +largely for the favourable reception given to the +<cite>Turkish Spy</cite>, and later to the <cite>Lettres Persanes</cite>. +The popularity of such oriental pseudo-letters in +England was a part of a general European tendency.<a id='r255'></a><a href='#f255' class='c011'><sup>[255]</sup></a> +Similarly England had shared in a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>widely diffused interest in an analogous form +of satire; that of Boccalini’s <cite>Ragguagli di Parnaso</cite>, +a type generally known and frequently +imitated throughout seventeenth-century Europe.<a id='r256'></a><a href='#f256' class='c011'><sup>[256]</sup></a> +Boccalini had imagined Apollo, king of +Parnassus, conducting discussions among his +courtiers,—men of genius from every nation +and age,—and passing criticism on political and +literary questions; Boccalini himself being the +reporter who brought these “Advices” from +Parnassus to Europe. The analogy between +such satire and that of Marana is striking. In +one sense Apollo and the departed shades, observing +Europe from the remote regions of +mythology, were forerunners and equivalents of +the later learned Turkish spies, Persian travelers, +and Chinese philosophers from the Far East.<a id='r257'></a><a href='#f257' class='c011'><sup>[257]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>Another reason for the welcome given the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite> and <cite>The Persian Tales</cite> is found +in connection with the history of the novel. +The elements of interest essential to great narrative +art are plot, character, and background. +Of these essentials it has been said that the +<cite>Sir Roger de Coverley</cite> papers possess two: admirable +characterization and well-defined background; +and that the absence of plot alone +denies to <cite>Sir Roger de Coverley</cite> the name of the +first English novel.<a id='r258'></a><a href='#f258' class='c011'><sup>[258]</sup></a> Almost exactly contemporary +with the <cite>De Coverley</cite> papers appeared +the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>; and, in the light of what +has just been said, the auspicious reception of +these oriental tales gains new significance. +Stories of pure adventure, in fantastic and often +brilliant setting, sometimes emotional or sentimental, +never strong in characterization—they +offered just that element of plot which +<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>was lacking in the periodical sketches. The +plot, indeed, is frequently strong only in incident, +and is tangled in construction. Yet, in the <cite>Arabian +Nights</cite>, there are several tales that, in +certain respects, deserve to be called classical; +<cite>Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves</cite>, or <cite>Zeyn Alasnam +and the King of the Genii</cite>, for instance, +despite all their oriental decorations, are admirably +simple and well-proportioned; and the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, as a whole, is a treasure-house +of story perhaps unsurpassed in literature. +Nothing so rich in adventurous incident appeared +in England until <cite>Robinson Crusoe</cite> (1719); +and in plot nothing so well-constructed as some +of these tales until Fielding’s masterpieces. Historians +of English fiction have insufficiently +recognized the fact that the oriental tale was +one of the forms of literature that gave to the +reading public in Augustan England the element +of plot which, to a certain extent, supplemented +that of character, afforded by sketches +like the <cite>De Coverley</cite> papers. The English novel, +as a recent writer has pointed out in his admirable +outline of its history, is particularly rich +in the variety of elements assisting in its development. +Of the seventeenth century he writes: +<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>“The heroic romance died and left no issue. +And the influence that the century exercised on +the growth of pure fiction, the foundations it +laid for the coming novel, are to be sought, not +in the writers of romance, but in the followers +of other branches of literature, often remote +enough from fiction, in satirists and allegorists, +newspaper scribes and biographers, writers of +travel and adventure, and fashionable comic +playwrights.”<a id='r259'></a><a href='#f259' class='c011'><sup>[259]</sup></a> Yet the translators of oriental +fiction in the early eighteenth century—“writers +of romance” in one sense though +they were—deserve a place among these diverse +influences. The <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> was the +fairy godmother of the English novel.</p> + +<p class='c007'>But the love of story for the story’s sake was +not the only or the chief reason for the welcome +given the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> and its immediate +successors. In France, the popularity of +these fantastic and marvelous stories, restless +in plot and exuberant in colour, had testified to +a truant desire to escape from the strict artistic +rules and classical ideals of masters like Boileau. +Conditions were similar in England. Pseudo-classicism +was the natural literary ideal of the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>men gathered in the coffee-houses around Pope +and Addison. The rule of reason, of order, of +good sense, was unquestioned; and, to so keen +and clever a society, the satiric verse of Pope +was ideal poetry. But even the author of the +<cite>Essay on Criticism</cite> allowed his fancy to stray at +times beyond the well-defined limits of traditional +art. He enjoyed the Arabian Tales, commended +them to his friend, Bishop Atterbury,<a id='r260'></a><a href='#f260' class='c011'><sup>[260]</sup></a> +and planned himself to write a “wild” Eastern +tale.<a id='r261'></a><a href='#f261' class='c011'><sup>[261]</sup></a> Lady Montagu did much to excite and +to gratify curiosity concerning Turkish life by +her entertaining letters from Constantinople.<a id='r262'></a><a href='#f262' class='c011'><sup>[262]</sup></a> +Swift read the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> and fairy tales. +He writes to Stella: “I borrowed one or two +idle books of <cite>Contes des Fées</cite> and have been +<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>reading them these two days, although I have +much business upon my hands.”<a id='r263'></a><a href='#f263' class='c011'><sup>[263]</sup></a> Goldsmith +dreamed ardently of a journey to the Far East,<a id='r264'></a><a href='#f264' class='c011'><sup>[264]</sup></a> +and Dr. Johnson himself came somewhat under +the oriental spell. The men of the eighteenth +century were not devoid of passion and imagination; +they were not without a love for the +country, though they liked the town far better; +they were not without an appreciation of nature, +though they preferred cultivated plains to “horrid +Alps”; but they considered it bad form to +express such feelings in polite society or in +serious literature. Oppressed by the bare and +hard rationalism of the day, people craved +more and more earnestly adequate food for +their imagination, their fancy, their emotion. +This hunger explains the growing interest in +varied fields of artistic activity: the popularity +of the new Italian operas and of Handel’s +oratorios, the vogue of the bourgeois drama, the +interest in Hogarth’s realistic art, and the appearance +of nature poetry like Thomson’s <cite>Seasons</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>To the general though gradual romantic expansion +of outlook there are many witnesses; +and it is significant to note that the strand of +interest in the Orient is interwoven with other +romantic threads. As early as 1692, Sir William +Temple shows interest in Norse poetry and +mythology, in Indian and Chinese life and art.<a id='r265'></a><a href='#f265' class='c011'><sup>[265]</sup></a> +Addison soon follows with his defense of <cite>Chevy +Chase</cite>; Ambrose Philips, the translator of the +<cite>Persian Tales</cite>, also edits old English ballads, +and Bishop Percy, toward the end of the +period, manifests a curious range of interest: +English ballads, Northern antiquities, Chinese +literature, etc.<a id='r266'></a><a href='#f266' class='c011'><sup>[266]</sup></a> Similarly in France, Caylus, +Pétis de la Croix, and Galland had been antiquarians +as well as orientalists. In such a +widening of outlook the Romantic Movement +resembles the Renaissance.</p> + +<p class='c007'>The chief reason, then, for the popularity of +the oriental fiction was its romantic character. +No wonder that the growing demands of the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>reaction against pseudo-classicism found a certain +satisfaction in these extraordinary tales, +which brought into the comparatively gray and +colourless life of Augustan England the fascinating +marvels of oriental legend, encompassed, +even in the translations from the French, by +something of the magical atmosphere and +strange glamour of the East. It would be +as difficult as superfluous to analyze the +world-wide charm of these tales. The caliph +in disguise, wandering the streets of Bagdad +in search of adventure, appeals to the same +naïve sense of delight that is excited by Richard +Cœur-de-Lion or Robin Hood. There is in +most people at all times something of the child’s +love of the marvelous. In the eighteenth century +a special reason for the popularity of these +tales lay in the fact that they offered to the +reactionary spirit, always characteristic of romanticism, +romantic themes and treatment, +and voiced the romantic mood. In varying +degree these stories show a love of adventure +and of mystery; a desire to excite the feelings +of surprise, horror, or delight; a child’s joy in +the extravagant, the unusual, and the exotic; +and an equally childlike desire to achieve the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>apparently impossible. The <cite>Persian Tales</cite> is +tinged with sentimentalism; Anglicized tales +such as <cite>Rasselas</cite> sound a decided note of subjectivity +and melancholy; <cite>Vathek</cite> is unreal and +“wild.” It is interesting to find Horace Walpole +calling his <cite>Castle of Otranto</cite> “so wild a tale,” +for just this quality of wildness in both the oriental +and the Gothic tale manifests romantic +longings. In the one there is the reactionary +desire to escape to the far-away, mysterious +East,—the remote in space; in the other, +the desire to return to the Middle Ages,—the +remote in time; in both, the longing for +picturesque colouring, for magical atmosphere, +for strangeness, coupled sometimes with beauty, +sometimes with horror.</p> + +<p class='c007'>But, it may be said, the oriental tale is +romantic only in external qualities, and should +be classed as pseudo-romantic. Every romantic +revival passes through a stage of what may be +called pseudo-romanticism or, more accurately, +superficial romanticism, gradually deepening +and strengthening as it grows toward its culmination. +The movement known in literary +history as the Romantic Movement in England +began almost imperceptibly early in the eighteenth +<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>century. Its sources were as diverse as +those of the English novel. If we take as the +highest standards of English romanticism the +picturesque, objective mediævalism of Scott; +the deep spirituality of Wordsworth; the intense +subjectivity of Emily Bronté; Shelley’s +“cloudless clarity of light”; the strange beauty +of Keats’s verse,—the sense of melancholy, of +mystery, of sympathy with sorrow found in all +great romantic poets,—then the beginnings of +English romanticism seem what they are, mere +beginnings, so remote from the great romantic +literature that the difference in degree amounts +to a difference in kind. From this point of +view, critical analysis, noting that the Gothic +tale and the oriental tale lack the more subtle +and essential elements of the romantic spirit, +justly regards them as romantic only in externals.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Yet romanticism is a relative term; and if +all that is not romantic in the highest sense be +dismissed as unromantic, there is great danger +of ignoring the gradual evolution of the profounder +elements of the romantic spirit and of +overlooking the genuine romanticism latent or +obscured in early romantic art. Critics of +classicism, who regard solely the highest forms +<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>in which that literary tendency embodies itself, +often pay the penalty of losing perspective, of +disregarding evolution. If the great classics—Homer, +Æschylus, Virgil—be taken as the +norm, then works of the later Greek or Roman +periods, or the so-called “classic” period in +France, may be regarded justly as pseudo-classical. +At the same time, genuinely classical +qualities are present in Racine and Corneille, +and must be recognized, together with the +equally obvious pseudo-classical elements, as +contributing to the evolution of French classicism. +Here, again, it is a question of the +point of view. Criticism may consider a work +of art in the light of the absolute standard,—the +ideal,—and may also consider it in +relation to the evolution of literary types or +tendencies.</p> + +<p class='c007'>In judging a romantic revival, such criticism +finds its task at once peculiarly difficult and +peculiarly interesting; for the very nature of +romanticism is elusive, and its methods are those +of symbolism and suggestion rather than of clear +definition. Yet, taking a broad view over the +entire romantic revival in England,—and the +same holds true of France in even greater degree,—one +<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>can see clearly that the orientalism +and pseudo-orientalism of the eighteenth century +distinctly preluded the use of oriental +material by the romantic writers of the early +nineteenth century. As Allan Ramsay and +Thomson prepared the way for Burns and +Wordsworth, so, less obviously, but none the +less truly, the translators and writers of the +oriental tale, together with historians and +travelers, were forerunners of Southey, Moore, +Byron, Matthew Arnold, Fitzgerald, and many +others, on to Kipling in the present day.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Moreover, the oriental tale directly contributed +romantic elements to the imaginative inheritance +of later writers. Its influence is +clearly traceable throughout the entire nineteenth +century. We have seen that the <cite>History +of Charoba</cite> was the acknowledged inspiration of +Landor’s <cite>Gebir</cite>. <cite>Vathek</cite> exerted great influence +on Byron’s youthful work, an influence easily +understood if one recalls the mockery, the +sensuousness, and the brilliant setting of Beckford’s +masterpiece, and especially the sinister +horror of the catastrophe.<a id='r267'></a><a href='#f267' class='c011'><sup>[267]</sup></a> Barry Cornwall +drew more definitely from <cite>Vathek</cite> in his brief +<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>poem, <cite>The Hall of Eblis</cite>.<a id='r268'></a><a href='#f268' class='c011'><sup>[268]</sup></a> Beckford himself +borrowed directly from the <cite>Adventures of Abdalla</cite> +and the <cite>Mogul Tales</cite>.<a id='r269'></a><a href='#f269' class='c011'><sup>[269]</sup></a> Lewis may have +derived his tale of terror, <cite>The Monk</cite>, from a +<cite>Turkish Tale</cite>.<a id='r270'></a><a href='#f270' class='c011'><sup>[270]</sup></a> Possibly Swift also drew from +the <cite>Turkish Tales</cite>.<a id='r271'></a><a href='#f271' class='c011'><sup>[271]</sup></a> Smollett makes Lydia, the +sentimental country heroine of <cite>Humphrey Clinker</cite>, +compare the “grandeur” of London to +the dazzling enchantments of oriental story.[271] +Southey explicitly states his indebtedness to the +<cite>New Arabian Nights</cite> for the idea of <cite>Thalaba</cite>.[271] +James Thomson (1834–1882), with equal frankness, +acknowledges his obligation to the <cite>Arabian +Nights</cite>, in the case of <cite>The Doom of a City</cite>.[271] +Tennyson’s early poem, <cite>Recollections of the +Arabian Nights</cite>, is a good instance of the strong +appeal made to youthful imagination by the +splendours of</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in6'>“the golden prime</div> + <div class='line'>Of good Haroun Alraschid.”<a id='r272'></a><a href='#f272' class='c011'><sup>[272]</sup></a></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>Wordsworth and Scott, as schoolboys, came +eagerly under the spell.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“The tales that charm away the wakeful night</div> + <div class='line'>In Araby”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>were to Wordsworth a precious treasure, setting +free the child’s imagination.<a id='r273'></a><a href='#f273' class='c011'><sup>[273]</sup></a> Part of the romantic +charm of Venice in Wordsworth’s eye, +was that</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Once did she hold the gorgeous East in fee.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>Scott’s mature imagination also retained an +interest in the Orient; witness <cite>The Talisman</cite>, +<cite>The Surgeon’s Daughter</cite>, <cite>Count Robert of Paris</cite>, +and possibly the arrow contest in <cite>The Monastery</cite>.<a id='r274'></a><a href='#f274' class='c011'><sup>[274]</sup></a> +De Quincey, in one of the most interesting +passages in his <cite>Autobiography</cite>,<a id='r275'></a><a href='#f275' class='c011'><sup>[275]</sup></a> after +disparaging remarks concerning <cite>Sindbad</cite> and +<cite>Aladdin</cite>, goes on to say that one solitary section +<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>of the latter story “fixed and fascinated” his +gaze: the incident of the murderous magician,—who +could gain the lamp only by the aid of +a pure child,—listening with ear to the ground +in order to distinguish the footsteps of his innocent +young victim thousands of miles away. +Dickens in <cite>David Copperfield</cite>, Thackeray in +<cite>Vanity Fair</cite> and <cite>The Virginians</cite>, and Stevenson +in many passages, testify to a fondness for oriental +tales. Instances might be multiplied, but +enough have been given to show clearly that +the oriental tales, from the early versions of the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite> on, have had a distinct value in +stimulating the imagination of numerous writers +and countless readers.<a id='r276'></a><a href='#f276' class='c011'><sup>[276]</sup></a> In all these cases, the +vital and life-giving elements in this fiction have +been the picturesque and suggestive details +about strange oriental customs; mysterious +ideas like metempsychosis; entertaining narrative; +richness of invention,—in short, the romantic +qualities. These have constituted the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>chief charm of oriental story from the time of +Addison to the present day.</p> + +<p class='c007'>It must always be remembered that the oriental +tale met with disapproval as well as with +favour. The full significance of the genre is +understood only when we recognize it as a test +of the public opinion of the age concerning +romanticism, and not merely as a witness to the +romantic mood. On the one hand, condemned +by typical men of letters as “wild” and “romantick,” +it reveals the strength of Augustan +classicism as the law of the land; on the other, +welcomed with enthusiasm, persisting in one +form or another throughout the century, utilized +even by such defenders of the classical stronghold +as Dr. Johnson,<a id='r277'></a><a href='#f277' class='c011'><sup>[277]</sup></a> it testifies, by its mere +presence, to the new spirit of romanticism.</p> + +<p class='c007'>But before the death of the last great classicist +of the century new forces were already at +work, which were to bring the Orient much +nearer to England than ever before. The +growth of the Indian empire, of commercial +intercourse with the East, and of the new democratic +belief in the brotherhood of the whole +<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>world, helped to break down England’s insularity +and to awaken a fresh interest in the Orient. +In letters, this modern spirit was first expressed +by the increased number of travelers’ accounts, +and by the accompanying activity of orientalists +under the guidance of Sir William Jones. Direct +translations from oriental languages into English +made a notable contribution to English +knowledge of Eastern life and literature, and had +a large share in turning the imaginations of nineteenth-century +poets and story-tellers toward +the use of oriental material. A fresh chapter +in the history of oriental influence upon England +thus opened. This chapter—still in the making—has +been distinguished throughout its entire +course by actual first-hand knowledge of the +Orient,—one vital characteristic which throws +it into sharp contrast with the chapter discussed +in the present volume. But to consider even +the beginnings of the modern period, in the new +scholarly movement inaugurated by Sir William +Jones, would carry us beyond the limits of our +subject. By the time the new movement was +well under way, the oriental tale of the eighteenth +century had done its work and had +passed on its inheritance to its successors.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span> + <h2 class='c006'>APPENDIX A<br> <span class='c012'>NOTES</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>Page <a href='#Page_204'>204</a>, <strong>Sterne</strong>. The manuscript of Sterne’s <cite>Bramine’s +Journal</cite>, now in the British Museum (Add. +Ms. 34,527), is exhibited with the following note: “The +<cite>Bramine’s Journal</cite>, being Sterne’s Journal addressed to +Mrs. Eliza Draper after her departure for India. It +extends from 13 April (1767) to 4 August with a +postscript on 1 Nov. and is entirely in the author’s +hand. It is full of expressions of extreme devotion, +and was discontinued on the arrival of Mrs. Sterne. At +the beginning is a note (evidently prefixed with a view +to publication) stating that the names are fictitious +and the whole translated from a French manuscript. +The page exhibited contains the record for 17 June: +‘I have brought your name <cite>Eliza</cite>! and Picture into +my Work [The Sentimental Journey, see the page exhibited +above, No. 23] where they will remain when you +and I are at rest forever.—Some annotator or explainer +of my works in this place will take occasion to speak +of the Friendship which subsisted so long and faithfully +betwixt Yorick and the Lady he speaks of.’ See +also the letter of W. M. Thackeray exhibited in Case +VII., No. 44, written after reading the Ms. [Add. Ms. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>34,527]. Bequeathed in 1894 by T. W. Gibbs, Esq.” +In Case VII. the letter exhibited reads as follows: +“He wasn’t dying, but lying, I’m afraid—God help +him—a falser and wickeder man it’s difficult to read +of.... Of course any man is welcome to believe as +he likes for me <i>except</i> a parson: I can’t help looking +upon Swift and Sterne as a couple of traitors and renegades—... +with a scornful pity for them in spite of +their genius and greatness.” “Dated 12 Sept. [1851] +Holograph. [Add. Ms. 34,527, f. 75.] Bequeathed in +1894 by T. W. Gibbs, Esq.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Page <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, note 1, <strong>Byron</strong>. On Byron’s indebtedness +to the oriental tale, cf. (<i>a</i>) <cite>Die Belesenheit des jungen +Byrons</cite> ... Dissertation ... von Ludwig Fuhrmann, +Berlin, 1903, pp. 60, 61, also 5, 6.</p> + +<p class='c007'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Byron’s und Moore’s Orientalische Gedichte, Eine +Parallele</cite> ... Dissertation ... von O. Thiergen. +Leipzig, 1880.</p> + +<p class='c007'>(<i>c</i>) <cite>Byron und Moore</cite> ... Dissertation ... von +Edgar Dawson. Leipzig, 1902, p. 60.</p> + +<p class='c007'>(<i>d</i>), (1), <cite>Childe Harold</cite>, Canto I., 22, note by editor. +<cite>Works of Lord Byron</cite> ... edited by T. Moore, in 14 +vols., Vol. VIII. London, 1832: “‘Vathek’ (says Lord +Byron in one of his diaries) was one of the tales I had a +very early admiration of. For correctness of costume, +beauty of description, and power of imagination, it +far surpasses all European imitations; and bears such +marks of originality, that those who have visited the +East will find some difficulty in believing it to be no +more than a translation. As an Eastern tale, even +<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>Rasselas must bow before it: his ‘happy valley’ will +not bear a comparison with the ‘Hall of Eblis.’”</p> + +<p class='c007'>(2) <cite>The Siege of Corinth</cite>, same edition, Vol. X., +p. 131, Byron acknowledges that an idea in certain +lines was drawn from <cite>Vathek</cite>, and then goes on to say, +“[<cite>Vathek</cite> is] a work to which I have before referred; +and never recur to, or read, without a renewal of gratification.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>(3) <cite>The Giaour</cite>, same edition, Vol. IX., p. 178,</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“To wander round lost Eblis throne;</div> + <div class='line'>And, fire unquenched, unquenchable,</div> + <div class='line'>Around, within thy heart shall dwell;” etc.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>(4) <cite>Manfred</cite>, Act II., Sc. 4, p. 112 and notes. <cite>Poetry</cite>, +Vol. IV., of <cite>The Works of Lord Byron ...</cite> edited by +E. H. Coleridge ... London ... New York, 1901. +Byron’s note at beginning of the scene, “The Hall of +Arimanes—Arimanes on his Throne, a Globe of Fire, +surrounded by the Spirits.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Page <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>, note 4, <strong>Swift</strong>. (In strict compliance with +our avowed exclusion of Hebrew literature from our +subject, the following note would be omitted. But +since the <cite>Turkish Tales</cite> is little known to-day, the +student of Swift may find it convenient to have access +to this curious story here.) In the <cite>Turkish Tales</cite>, the +story of the King of Aad, a distorted legend<a id='r278'></a><a href='#f278' class='c011'><sup>[278]</sup></a> based +<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>on the conflict of the Children of Israel with Og, King +of Bashan and the Sons of Anak, reads as follows +[abridged from H. Weber: <cite>Tales of the East</cite>, Edinburgh, +1812, Vol. III., p. 198]:—</p> + +<p class='c007'>“Aoudge-Ibn-Anak, King of Aad, being informed +that the prophet Mousa, at the head of 600,000 Israelites, +was coming to preach the Jewish religion to +him, sent an army.... The prophet was strangely +surprised when he saw the King of Aad’s troops ... +whose children were above an hundred feet high. His +zeal then cooled a little; and before coming into +action, ... he sent twelve doctors to tell their prince +that it was a great pity such proper men should be +ignorant of God. This compliment was not difficult to +remember; and yet the doctors forgot it when they +came into the presence of Aoudge, who was cutting his +nails with a terrible large axe. This monstrous king, +seeing the prophet’s twelve doctors so affrighted that +they could not speak one word, began to laugh so loud +that the echo resounded for the space of fifty leagues +around; he then put them all into the hollow of his +left hand, and turning them about like ants with the +little finger of his right hand, he said, ‘If these +wretched animals would but speak, we would give +them to our children for playthings.’ After this, he +put them into his pocket and marched [against] the +Israelites. When he came [near], he pulled their twelve +doctors out of his pocket; but they were no sooner on +the ground than they fled with all possible speed, and +never looked behind them. The Jews, terrified with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>the enormous size of their enemies, abandoned their +prophet. Their wives attempted in vain to animate +and embolden them; but their timorous husbands +forced them with them in their flight, saying, ‘Let us +fly, and leave the affair to the prophet. The Lord +hath no occasion for anybody besides himself to work +a miracle.’ Mousa ... then marched singly against +the people of Aad. The terrible Aoudge expected him +unconcerned ... and lanced a rock at him, which had +crushed the prophet if God had not sent an angel in the +shape of a bird, which, with one peck of his bill, cleft +the rock in two.... Mousa then ... by a prodigious +effort of the Omnipotent Power became 70 cubits +higher than his natural stature; he then flew into the +air for the space of 70 cubits, and his rod was 70 cubits +long, with which he touched Aoudge’s knee, and that +prince died suddenly. The people of Aad immediately +fled, and the Israelites returned to offer their service +to the prophet; who said to them, ‘Since you are so +timorous, as not to have courage enough to follow the +generous counsel of your wives, God will make you +wander in the lands of Teyhyazousi, for the space of +40 years.’”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Cf. in a <cite>Voyage to Lilliput</cite>, in <cite>Gulliver’s Travels</cite>, +edited by G. R. Dennis, London, 1899, Vol. VIII., p. 30, +of <cite>Prose Works</cite> of J. Swift, edited by Temple Scott, +the incident of Gulliver’s putting into his pocket five +Lilliputians, who had shot arrows at him. “As to the +sixth, I made countenance as if I would eat him alive. +The poor man squalled terribly ... but ... looking +<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>mildly ... I set him gently on the ground, and away +he ran. I treated the rest in the same manner, taking +them one by one out of my pocket....” The picture +of Aoudge holding the doctors in his hand and +putting them into his pocket is quite in the manner +of Swift; the mockery of the doctors and the ironical +description of the courageous wives of the Jews, and +of the miracle, is thoroughly Swiftian in spirit. Yet +the similarity may be chance coincidence. Cf. Dennis, +<i>op. cit.</i>, <cite>Introduction</cite>, p. xxiii, on the sources of <cite>Gulliver’s +Travels</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Page <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>, note 4, <strong>Smollett</strong>. Cf. The Works of <cite>Tobias +Smollett ...</cite> Edinburgh, 1883. On pp. 497, 498 of <cite>The +Expedition of Humphrey Clinker</cite>, Lydia Melford writes +about London to her friend Miss Letitia Willis at +Gloucester: “All that you read of wealth and grandeur +in the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments and the +Persian Tales, concerning Bagdad, Diabekir, Damascus, +Ispahan, and Samarkand, is here realized.... +Ranelagh looks like the enchanted palace of a genie, +adorned with the most exquisite performances of painting, +carving, and gilding, enlightened with a thousand +golden lamps that emulate the noonday sun; crowded +with the great, the rich, the gay, the happy, and the +fair; glittering with cloth of gold and silver, lace, embroidery +and precious stones. While these exulting +sons and daughters of felicity tread this round of +pleasure, or regale in different parties and separate +lodges, with fine imperial tea and other delicious +refreshments, their ears are entertained with the most +<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>ravishing delights of music, both instrumental and +vocal.... I really thought myself in paradise.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Page <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>, n. 4, <strong>Southey</strong>. Cf. <cite>Thalaba the Destroyer</cite>. In +the Preface to the fourth edition, Cintra, 1800, quoted +on p. 6 of Vol. IV., <cite>Poetical Works of R. Southey</cite>, +Boston, 1880, Southey writes: “In the continuation +of the Arabian Tales, the Domdaniel is mentioned,—a +seminary of evil magicians, under the roots of the +sea. From this seed the present romance has grown.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Page <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>, n. 4, <strong>James Thomson</strong> (1634–1882). Cf. +<cite>Poetical Works of James Thomson</cite>, edited ... by B. +Dobell in 2 vols., London, 1895, Vol. II., p. 109, <cite>The +City of Dreadful Night</cite>. Thomson says, p. 442, note +3, “The city of the statues is from the tale of Zobeide +in the History of the Three Ladies of Bagdad and the +Three Calendars. This episode and the account of the +Kingdoms of the Sea in Prince Beder and —— impressed +my boyhood more powerfully than anything else in the +Arabian Nights.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Page <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>, n. 1, <strong>Wordsworth</strong>. Cf. <cite>The Prelude</cite>, +Book V. <cite>The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth</cite>, +edited ... by E. Dowden in 7 vols., l. 460 <i>et seq.</i>, Vol. +VII., London, 1893.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“A precious treasure had I long possessed,</div> + <div class='line'>A little yellow, canvas-covered book,</div> + <div class='line'>A slender abstract of the Arabian Tales;</div> + <div class='line'>And, from companions in a new abode,</div> + <div class='line'>When first I learnt, that this dear prize of mine</div> + <div class='line'>Was but a block hewn from a mighty quarry—</div> + <div class='line'>That there were four large volumes, laden all</div> + <div class='line'>With kindred matter, ’twas to me, in truth,</div> + <div class='line'>A promise scarcely earthly. Instantly,</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>With one not richer than myself, I made</div> + <div class='line'>A covenant that each should lay aside</div> + <div class='line'>The moneys he possessed, and hoard up more,</div> + <div class='line'>Till our joint savings had amassed enough</div> + <div class='line'>To make this book our own. Through several months</div> + <div class='line'>In spite of all temptation, we preserved</div> + <div class='line'>Religiously that vow; but firmness failed.</div> + <div class='line'>Nor were we ever masters of our wish.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>And when thereafter to my father’s house</div> + <div class='line'>The holidays returned me, there to find</div> + <div class='line'>That golden store of books which I had left,</div> + <div class='line'>What joy was mine! How often....</div> + <div class='line'>For a whole day together, have I lain</div> + <div class='line'>Down by thy side, O Derwent! murmuring stream,</div> + <div class='line'>On the hot stones, and in the glaring sun,</div> + <div class='line'>And there have read, devouring as I read,</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'> · · · · ·</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>A gracious spirit o’er this earth presides,</div> + <div class='line'>And o’er the heart of man: invisibly</div> + <div class='line'>It comes, to works of unreproved delight,</div> + <div class='line'>And tendency benign, directing those</div> + <div class='line'>Who care not, know not, think not what they do.</div> + <div class='line'>The tales that charm away the wakeful night</div> + <div class='line'>In Araby, romances; legends penned</div> + <div class='line'>For solace by dim light of monkish lamps;</div> + <div class='line'>Fictions, for ladies of their love, devised</div> + <div class='line'>By youthful squires; adventures endless,</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'> · · · · ·</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Dumb yearnings, hidden appetites, are ours,</div> + <div class='line'>And <i>they must</i> have their food. Our childhood sits,</div> + <div class='line'>Our simple childhood, sits upon a throne</div> + <div class='line'>That hath more power than all the elements.</div> + <div class='line in26'>... Ye dreamers, then</div> + <div class='line'>Forgers of daring tales! we bless you then.</div> + <div class='line'>Imposters, drivellers, dotards, as the ape</div> + <div class='line'>Philosophy will call you: <i>then</i> we feel</div> + <div class='line'>With what, and how great might ye are in league,</div> + <div class='line'>Who make our wish, our power, our thought a deed,</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>An empire, a possession,—ye whom time</div> + <div class='line'>And seasons serve; all Faculties to whom</div> + <div class='line'>Earth crouches, the elements are potter’s clay,</div> + <div class='line'>Space like a heaven filled up with northern lights,</div> + <div class='line'>Here, nowhere, there, and everywhere at once.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Page <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>, n. 1, <strong>Scott</strong>. Cf. <cite>Autobiography</cite> in Lockhart’s +<cite>Life of Scott</cite>, in five vols., Vol. I., p. 29, Boston, +1902.</p> + +<p class='c007'>“In the intervals of my school hours I had always +perused with avidity such books of history or poetry +or voyages and travels as chance presented to me—not +forgetting the usual, or rather ten times the usual +quantity of fairy tales, eastern stories, romances, &c. +These studies were totally unregulated and undirected. +My tutor thought it almost a sin to open a profane +book or poem.” Cf. also references such as that in +<cite>Waverley</cite>, Chap. V., to Prince Hussein’s tapestry, +and “Malek’s flying sentry box”; and in the Introduction +to <cite>Quentin Durward</cite> to the “generous Aboulcasem.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>Page <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>, n. 1, <strong>Dickens</strong>. (1) <cite>David Copperfield</cite>, +Chap. IV. “My father had left a small collection of +books.... From that blessed little room, Roderick +Random, Peregrine Pickle, Humphrey Clinker, Tom +Jones, The Vicar of Wakefield, Don Quixote, Gil Blas, +and Robinson Crusoe, came out, a glorious host, to +keep me company. They kept alive my fancy, and my +hope of something beyond that place and time [his +dreary childhood],—they, and the Arabian Nights and +the Tales of the Genii,—and did me no harm.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>(2) When a child, Dickens wrote a tragedy called +<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span><cite>Misnar, the Sultan of India</cite>, founded on the <cite>Tales of +the Genii</cite>. See <cite>Life of Dickens</cite> by John Forster, Vol. I., +pp. 7, 29, 34; also Chauvin, <i>op. cit.</i>, IV., p. 11.</p> + +<p class='c007'>Page <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>, n. 1, <strong>Thackeray</strong>. Cf. (1) <cite>Vanity Fair</cite>, +Chap. V. “On a sunshiny afternoon ... poor William +Dobbin ... was lying under a tree in the playground, +spelling over a favorite copy of the <cite>Arabian +Nights</cite>—apart from the rest of the school—quite +lonely and almost happy.... Dobbin had for once +forgotten the world and was away with Sinbad the +Sailor in the Valley of Diamonds or with Prince Ahmed +and the Fairy Peribanon in that delightful cavern +where the prince found her, and whither we should +all like to make a tour.” Chap. III. “She [Becky] +had a vivid imagination; she had, besides, read the +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite> and <cite>Guthrie’s Geography</cite>.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>(2) <cite>The Virginians</cite>, Chap. XXIII. Hetty Lambert +“brought out ‘The Persian Tales’ from her mamma’s +closet.” Chap. XXX. Harry Warrington writes home +of reading “in French the translation of an Arabian +Work of Tales, very diverting.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>(3) <cite>Roundabout Papers.</cite> In the paper “On a Lazy, +Idle Boy,” Thackeray refers to “a score of white-bearded, +white-robed warriors, or grave seniors of the +city, seated at the gate of Jaffa or Beyrout, and listening +to the story teller reciting his marvels out of <cite>The +Arabian Nights</cite>.”</p> + +<p class='c007'>(4) <cite>Eastern Sketches</cite> contains many references to the +pleasure Thackeray has always taken in the <cite>Arabian +Nights</cite>, <i>e.g.</i> pp. 338, 339, of <cite>Works</cite>, Vol. X.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span> + <h2 class='c006'>APPENDIX B. I.<br> <span class='c012'>CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'><cite>A list of the more important oriental tales published +in English during the period under consideration. The +order of arrangement is determined by the date of the +earliest edition extant. The works of each author are +grouped under his name. Editions given immediately +after the titles are first editions unless otherwise stated. +Editions starred are those referred to in the text or notes.</cite></p> + +<p class='c015'><cite>Abbreviations</cite>: Sp. = <cite>Spectator</cite>; Gu. = <cite>Guardian</cite>; Fr. = +<cite>Freeholder</cite>; Ra. = <cite>Rambler</cite>; Adv. = <cite>Adventurer</cite>; Wo. = <cite>World</cite>; +Con. = <cite>Connoisseur</cite>; Ba. = <cite>Babler</cite>; Id. = <cite>Idler</cite>; Mir. = <cite>Mirror</cite>; +Obs. = <cite>Observer</cite>; tr. = <i>translated</i>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>1. 1687. <strong>Marana, Giovanni Paolo.</strong> <cite>Letters writ by +a Turkish Spy, who liv’d five and forty years ... +at Paris: giving an Account ... of the most remarkable +transactions of Europe ... from 1637 to +1682</cite> [tr. from French, by W. Bradshaw, and edited +by Robert Midgley, M.D.], 8 vols., London, 1687–1693. +Twenty-second edition, 1734; ... edition, +*1748; twenty-sixth edition, 1770.</p> + +<p class='c016'>2. 1700, <strong>Brown, Thomas</strong>. <cite>Amusements Serious and +Comical Calculated for the Meridian of London</cite>, +separately published in 1700; and also in the <cite>Works +of Thomas Brown, in three volumes, with a Character +of the author by James Drake, M.D.</cite>, *1707–1708. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>Cf. the four volumes in the Boston Athenæum; +(<i>a</i>) the title-page of the first volume reads, <cite>The +Works of Thomas Brown, Serious, Moral, Comical and +Satyrical In Four Volumes, containing Amusements</cite> +[then follows table of contents of all four volumes]. +<cite>To which is prefixed a Character of Mr. Brown and +his Writings, by James Drake, M.D. The Fourth +edition, Corrected, with large Additions, and a Supplement</cite>, +London. Printed for Samuel Briscoe, 1715; +(<i>b</i>) the title-page of the third volume reads, <cite>The +Third Volume of the Works of Mr. Tho. Brown, +Being Amusements, Serious and Comical, Calculated +for the Meridian of London. Letters Serious and +Comical to Gentlemen and Ladies. Æneas Sylvius’s +Letters in English. A Walk around London and Westminster, +Exposing the Vices and Follies of the Town. +The Dispensary, a Farce. The London and Lacedemonian +Oracles. The Third Edition, with large Additions.</cite> +London, Printed for Sam. Briscoe, and sold by +J. Morphew near Stationers’ Hall,* 171-[date imperfect, +conjecture: 1711]. In the last-named volume, +“<cite>A Walk around London and ... the Town</cite>,” p. 244, +is entitled also, <cite>The Second Part of the Amusements +Serious and Comical</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>3. 1700. <strong>[Avery, John]</strong>?</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>The Life and Adventures of Captain John Avery ... +now in possession of Madagascar written by a +person who made his escape from thence</cite>, 1700.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>The King of the Pirates, being an account of the +Famous Enterprises of Captain Avery, the Mock +<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>King of Madagascar, with His Rambles and Piracies, +wherein all the Sham Accounts formerly publish’d +of him, are detected. In two Letters from +Himself: one during his Stay at Madagascar and +one since his Escape from thence</cite>, London, 1720. +[According to J. K. Langton in <cite>Dict. Nat. Biog.</cite> +article, “John Avery,” (<i>b</i>) has been attributed to +Defoe, and both (<i>a</i>) and (<i>b</i>) are “fiction, with +scarcely a substratum of fact”].</p> + +<p class='c016'>4. Between 1704 and 1712. <cite>Arabian Nights Entertainments: +consisting of One Thousand and One +Stories, told by the Sultaness of the Indies, to divert +the Sultan from the Execution of a bloody vow ..., +containing a better account of the Customs, Manners, +and Religion of the Eastern Nations, viz.: Tartars, +Persians and Indians, than is to be met with [in] any +Author hitherto published. Translated into French +from the Arabian MSS. by M. Galland, ... and +now done into English from the third Edition in +French....</cite> The fourth Edition, London, Printed +for Andrew Bell, In 12 [vols. 1–6], *1713–1715. +First edition, date unknown; second edition, *1712; +edition called the fourteenth edition, London, *1778, +4 vols. [= “the oldest edition which I have seen +containing the latter half of Galland’s version.” W. +F. Kirby in App. II., p. 467, Vol. X., of Burton’s +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, Benares, 1884].</p> + +<p class='c016'>5. 1705. <strong>Defoe, Daniel.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <i>The Consolidator: or Memoirs of Sundry Transactions +from the World in the Moon, Translated +<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>from the Lunar Language. By the Author of the +True-Born Englishman</i>, London, ... *1705.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>The Farther Adventures of Robinson Crusoe</cite>, London, +*1719.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>c</i>) <cite>A System of Magic</cite>, London, *1726.</p> + +<p class='c016'>6. 1707. <cite>Arimant and Tamira; an eastern tale</cite> [in +verse] <cite>In the manner of Dryden’s fables; By a gentleman +of Cambridge</cite>. London, 1707.</p> + +<p class='c016'>7. 1708. <cite>Turkish Tales; consisting of several Extraordinary +Adventures: with the History of the +Sultaness of Persia and the viziers. Written Originally +in the Turkish Language by Chec Zade, for the +use of Amurath II., and now done into English.</cite> London ... +Jacob Tonson, *1768. Cf. also No. 15 (<i>b</i>) +below: 1714, <cite>Persian and Turkish Tales compleat</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>8. 1708. <strong>Abu Jaafar Ebn Tophail.</strong> <cite>The Improvement +of Human Reason, exhibited in the Life of Hai Ebn +Yokdhan; Written in Arabick above 500 years ago, +by Abu Jaafar Ebn Tophail.... Translated by +Simon Ockley</cite> ..., London ... *1708; another +edition, 1711. The first English version was published +in 1674, anonymously, with the title “<cite>An Account +of the Oriental Philosophy ... [etc.]</cite>.” Cf. <cite>Brit. +Mus. Catalogue</cite> under “Abu Jaafar Ebn Tophail,” +and <cite>Dict. Nat. Biog.</cite> under “Geo. Ashwell” (1612–1695). +Cf. for full title of Ockley’s translation, pp. +126, 127, <i>ante</i>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>9. (1710?). <strong>Ali Mohammed Hadji</strong> (<i>pseud.</i>). <cite>A brief and +merry History of Great Britain, containing an account +of the religion, customs ... etc. of the people, written +<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>originally in Arabick by Ali Mohammed Hadji.... +Faithfully rendered into English by A. Hillier</cite>, London +(1710?). Another edition, *1730.</p> + +<p class='c016'>10. 1711. <strong>Bidpai.</strong> Principal eighteenth-century versions. +(1) <cite>Æsop Naturalized, in a collection of fables +and stories from Æsop ... Pilpay and others ...</cite> +London, *1711; another edition, 1771; (2) <cite>The Instructive +and Entertaining Fables of Pilpay, an ancient +Indian Philosopher, containing a number of +excellent rules for the conduct of persons of all ages.</cite> +London, 1743. [This is a reproduction of the 1679 +version, “<cite>Made for the Duke of Gloucester</cite>.”] Other +editions, 1747, 1754; fifth edition, 1775; sixth edition, +1789. Cf. Chauvin, <cite>Bibliographie</cite>, II., pp. 33, 40, 70, +and Table opposite p. 1. The earliest English version +of Bidpai is Sir Thomas North’s <cite>Morall Philosophie +of Doni ...</cite> 1570.</p> + +<p class='c016'>11. 1711. <strong>Addison, Joseph.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>[<cite>Sp.</cite> No. 50, April 27, 1711. <cite>Observations by four +Indian Kings.</cite>]</p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 94, June 18, 1711. (1) <cite>Mahomet’s journey +to the seven heavens.</cite> (2) <cite>The adventures of the +Sultan of Egypt.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 159, Sept. 1, 1711. <cite>The Vision of Mirza.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 195, Oct. 13, 1711. <cite>Story of sick king cured +by exercise with drugged mallet.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'>[<cite>Sp.</cite> No. 237, Dec. 1, 1711. <cite>Jewish tradition concerning +Moses.</cite>]</p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 289, Jan. 31, 1711–1712. <cite>Story of the dervish +who mistakes a palace for an inn.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 293, Feb. 5, 1711–1712. <cite>Persian fable of +drop of water which became a pearl.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 343, April 3, 1712. <cite>Story of Pug the monkey.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 349, April 10, 1712. <cite>Story of courageous +Muli Moluc, Emperor of Morocco.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 511, Oct. 16, 1712. (1) <cite>Persian marriage-auction.</cite> +(2) <cite>Merchant who purchased old woman +in a sack.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 512, Oct. 17, 1712. <cite>Story of Sultan Mahmoud +and his vizier.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 535, Nov. 13, 1712. <cite>Story of Alnaschar.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Gu.</cite> No. 99, July 4, 1713. <cite>Persian story of just sultan.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Gu.</cite> No. 167, Sept. 22, 1713. <cite>Story of Helim and +Abdallah.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 557, June 21, 1714. <cite>Letter to the King of +Bantam.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> Nos. 584 and 585, Aug. 23 and 25, 1714. <cite>Story +of Hilpa, Harpath, and Shalum.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Fr.</cite> No. 17, Feb. 17, 1716. <cite>Persian Emperor’s riddle.</cite></p> + +<p class='c016'>12. 1712. <strong>Unknown Contributors to Guardian and +Spectator.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Gu.</cite> No. 162, Sept. 16, 1712. <cite>Story of Schacabac and +the Barmecide.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 578, Aug. 9, 1714. <cite>Story of Fadlallah and +Zemroude.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 587, Aug. 30, 1714. <cite>Story of Mahomet, +Gabriel, and the black drop of sin.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 604, Oct. 8, 1714. <cite>Vision at Grand Cairo.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 631, Dec. 10, 1714. <cite>Story of the dervise who +forgot to wash his hands.</cite></p> + +<p class='c016'><span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>13. 1713. <strong>Pope, Alexander.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Gu.</cite> No. 61, May 21, 1713. <cite>Fable of the traveller and +the adder.</cite></p> + +<p class='c016'>14. 1712. <strong>Steele, Sir Richard.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Sp.</cite> No. 545, Nov. 25, 1712. <cite>Letter from the Emperor +of China to the Pope.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Gu.</cite> No. 148, Aug. 31, 1713. <cite>Story of the Santon +Barsisa.</cite></p> + +<p class='c016'>15. 1714. <cite>Persian Tales.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>The Thousand and One Days, Persian Tales. +Translated from the French by Mr. Ambrose +Philips.</cite> London, *1714–1715. [Cf. Chauvin, <cite>Bibliographie</cite>, +IV., pp. 123–127.] Third edition, 1722; +fifth, 1738; sixth, 1750; *seventh, 1765; other +editions, 1781, 1783.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>The Persian and the Turkish Tales compleat</cite> [sic] +<cite>Translated formerly from those languages into +French</cite> [or rather compiled] <i>by M. Pétis de la +Croix ...</i> [assisted by A. R. Le Sage] <i>and now +into Englsh</i> [sic] <i>from that translation by ... Dr. +King, and several other hands. To which are added; +Two letters from a French Abbot to his friend at +Paris, giving an account of the island of Madagascar; +and of the French Embassador’s reception +by the King of Siam.</i> London, *1714.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>c</i>) Cf. Edward Button, <cite>A New Translation of the +Persian Tales</cite>, London, 1754; and the anonymous +<cite>Persian Tales designed for use and entertainment</cite>, +*Coburg, 1779–1781.</p> + +<p class='c016'>16. 1717. <strong>Kora Selyn Oglan</strong> (<i>pseud.</i>). <cite>The Conduct of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>Christians made the sport of Infidels in a letter from a +Turkish merchant at Amsterdam to the Grand Mufti +at Constantinople on occasion of ... the late scandalous +quarrel among the clergy</cite>, *1717.</p> + +<p class='c016'>17. 1720. <strong>Brémond, G. De.</strong> <cite>The Beautiful Turk, +Translated from the French original, Printed in the +Year 1720.</cite> [London.] This is another translation +of the French tale by G. de Brémond translated +“by B. B.” as <cite>Hattige or the amours of the King of +Tamaran</cite>, published in Amsterdam, 1680; and also +in Vol. I., *1679 or 1683(?) in R. Bentley’s <cite>Modern +Novels</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>18. 1722. (Dec. 11, 1721.) <strong>Parnell, Thomas.</strong> <cite>The +Hermit</cite>, printed posthumously in <cite>Poems on Several +Occasions.—Written by Dr. Thomas Parnell, late +Arch-Deacon of Clogher: and published by Mr. Pope.</cite> +London, *1722 (Dec. 11, 1721). For numerous volumes +containing this poem, see <cite>Brit. Mus. Catalogue</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>19. 1722. <strong>Aubin, Mrs. Penelope.</strong> <cite>The Noble Slaves, +or the Lives and Adventures of Two Lords and Two +Ladies</cite> (in Aubin’s <cite>Histories and Novels</cite>), London, +*1722. Another edition, Dublin, (1730); also in +Mrs. E. Griffith’s collection, 1777.</p> + +<p class='c016'>20. 1722. <strong>Mailly</strong> [or <strong>Mailli</strong>], <strong>Chevalier de</strong>. <cite>The Travels +and Adventures of three princes of Sarendip. Intermixed +with eight delightful and entertaining novels, +translated from the Persian</cite> [or rather the Italian of +Chr. Armeno] <i>into French, an</i> [sic] <i>from thence done +into English</i>. London, *1722.</p> + +<p class='c016'>21. 1725. <strong>Segrais, J. Regnauld de.</strong> <cite>Bajazet or The +<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>Imprudent Favorite</cite>, in <cite>Five Novels Translated from +the French</cite>. London, *1725.</p> + +<p class='c016'>22. 1725. <strong>Gueullette, Thomas Simon.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Chinese Tales, or the wonderful Adventures of +the Mandarin Fum-Hoam translated from the +French</cite> [of T. S. Gueullette]. London, 1725. Another +translation, <cite>Chinese Tales ... Fum-Hoam ... +translated by the Rev. Mr. Stackhouse</cite>, London, +n.d. (Cook’s pocket edition of select novels). +Another edition, *1781.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Mogul Tales ... Now first translated into English ... +With a prefatory discourse on the usefulness of +Romances.</cite> London, *1736. Second edition, 1743.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>c</i>) <cite>Tartarian Tales, or a thousand and one Quarters +of Hours, Written in French by the celebrated Mr. +Guelletee</cite> [sic] <cite>Author of the Chinese, Mogul and +other Tales. The whole now for the first time translated +into English by Thomas Flloyd.</cite> London, +printed for J. and R. Tonson in the Strand, *1759. +Another edition, Dublin, printed for Wm. Williamson, +Bookseller, at Mæcenas’s Head, Bride St., +1764; another edition, London, 1785; printed in +the <cite>Novelist’s Magazine</cite>, 1785.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>d</i>) <cite>Peruvian Tales related in one thousand and one +hours, by one of the select virgins of Cuzco to the +Ynca of Peru ... Translated from the original +French by S. Humphreys (continued by J. Kelly).</cite> +Fourth edition. London, 1764. Another edition, +1786.</p> + +<p class='c016'>23. 1729. <strong>Bignon, Jean Paul.</strong> <cite>Adventures of Abdalla, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>Son of Hanif, sent by the Sultan of the Indies to make +a Discovery of the island of Borico ... translated into +French from an Arabick manuscript ... by Mr. de +Sandisson</cite> [<i>pseud.</i>] <i>... done into English by William +Hatchett....</i> London, *1729. Second edition, +*1730.</p> + +<p class='c016'>24. 1730. <strong>Montesquieu, C. de Secondat, Baron de.</strong> +<cite>Persian Letters Translated by Mr. Ozell.</cite> London, +*1730. Third edition, 1731; sixth edition, anon., +Edinburgh, *1773.</p> + +<p class='c016'>25. 1730. <strong>Gomez, Mme. Madeleine Angelique (Poisson) +de.</strong> <cite>Persian Anecdotes; or, Secret memoirs of the +Court of Persia. Written originally in French, for +the Entertainment of the King, by the celebrated +Madame de Gomez, Author of La Belle Assemblée. +Translated by Paul Chamberlain, Gent.</cite> London +*1730. The title in the <cite>British Museum Catalogue</cite> +reads, “<cite>The Persian Anecdotes ... Persia, containing +the history of those two illustrious heroes, Sophy-Ismael, +surnamed the Great, and Tor, King of Ormus, etc.</cite> +[Translated from the French by P. Chamberlen.] +London, 1730.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>26. 1731. [<strong>Boles, W.?</strong>] <cite>Milk for Babes, Meat for +Strong Men and Wine for Petitioners, Being a Comical, +Sarcastical, Theological Account of a late Election at +Bagdad, for Cailiff of that City. Faithfully Translated +from the Arabick, and Collated with the most +Authentic Original Manuscripts. By the Great, +Learned and Most Ingenious Alexander the Copper +Smith....</cite> Second edition, Cork, *1731.</p> + +<p class='c016'><span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>27. 1733. [<strong>D’Orville, Adrien de la Vieuville.</strong>] <cite>The Adventures +of Prince Jakaya or the Triumph of Love +over Ambition, being Secret Memoirs of the Ottoman +Court. Translated from the Original French....</cite> +London, *1733.</p> + +<p class='c016'>28. 1735. <strong>Lyttelton, George</strong>, First Baron (1709–1773). +<cite>Letters from a Persian in England to his friend at +Ispahan.</cite> London, *1735. Fifth edition, 1774; +printed also in Harrison’s <cite>British Classicks</cite>, London, +*1787–1793. Vol. I.; and in numerous editions of +Lyttelton’s <cite>Works</cite>. See <cite>Brit. Mus. Catalogue</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>29. 1735. <strong>Crébillon, C. P. Jolyot de.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>The Skimmer, or the history of Tanzai and Neardarné +(a Japanese tale), tr. from the French.</cite>—1735. +Another edition, 1778.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>The Sopha, a moral tale, tr. from the French</cite> (a +new edition).... London, 1781.</p> + +<p class='c016'>30. 1736. <cite>The Persian Letters, continued.</cite> Third edition, +London, *1736 [“erroneously ascribed to Lord +Lyttelton,” <cite>Dict. Nat. Biog.</cite>].</p> + +<p class='c016'>31. 1739. <strong>Boyer (Jean Baptiste de) Marquis d’Argens.</strong> +<cite>Chinese Letters; being a philosophical, +historical, and critical correspondence between a +Chinese Traveler at Paris and his countrymen in +China, Muscovy, Persia, and Japan. Translated ... +into</cite> [or rather written in] <cite>French by the Marquis +d’Argens; and now done into English....</cite> +London, *1741.</p> + +<p class='c016'>32. (17-?). <strong>Bougeant, G. H.</strong> <cite>The Wonderful Travels +of Prince Fan-Feredin, Translated from the French</cite> +<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>[of G. H. Bougeant, *1735], Northampton, n.d. +For full title, cf. p. 213, <i>ante</i>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>33. 1741. <strong>Haywood, Mrs. Eliza.</strong> <cite>The Unfortunate +Princess, or the Ambitious Statesman, containing the +Life and surprizing</cite> [sic] <cite>Adventures of the Princess +of Ijaveo [Ijaves], Interspers’d with several curious +and entertaining Novels</cite>. London, *1741.</p> + +<p class='c016'>34. 1742. <strong>Collins, William.</strong> <cite>Persian Eclogues, Written +originally for the entertainment of the Ladies of Tauris +and now translated</cite>, *1742; reprinted *1757 as <cite>Oriental +Eclogues</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>35. 1744. <cite>The Lady’s Drawing Room ... interspersed +with entertaining and affecting Novels.</cite> London, +*1744 [contains <cite>The History of Rodomond and +the Beautiful Indian</cite>, and <cite>The History of Henrietta +de Bellgrave</cite>].</p> + +<p class='c016'>36. 1745. <strong>Caylus, A. C. P. de Tubières, Comte de.</strong> <cite>Oriental +Tales, collected from an Arabian Manuscript in +the Library of the King of France....</cite> London, +*1745. Another edition (1750?).</p> + +<p class='c016'>37. 1745. <strong>Vieux-maisons, Mme. de</strong> <i>or</i> <strong>Pecquet, A. (?)</strong>. +<cite>The Perseis, or secret memoirs for a History of Persia</cite> +[a political satire], <i>translated from the French with +a key....</i> London, *1745. Another edition, +1765.</p> + +<p class='c016'>38. 1748. <strong>Graffigny, F. Huguet de.</strong> <cite>Letters written by +a Peruvian Princess, translated from the French</cite> [of F. +Huguet de Graffigny]. London, 1748. Another edition, +Dublin, *1748. Another translation, <cite>The Peruvian +Letters, translated from the French, with an +<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>additional original volume by R. Roberts</cite>. London, +1774.</p> + +<p class='c016'>39. 1749. <strong>Voltaire, F. M. Arouet de.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>1749. (<i>a</i>) <cite>Zadig, or the Book of Fate, an Oriental +History, translated from the French original of M. +Voltaire</cite>, London, printed for John Brindley, etc., +*1749. A version by F. Ashmore, London, 1780; +another edition, 1794. Also in (1) <cite>The Works of M. +de Voltaire Translated from the French with Notes, +Historical and Critical. By T. Smollett, M.D., +T. Francklin, M.A., and others</cite>, Vols. I.–XXV., London ... +1761–1765; Vol. XI., ... London ... +1762; in (2) <cite>The Works of M. de Voltaire. Translated +from the French with Notes, Historical, critical +and Explanatory. By T. Francklin, D.D., Chaplain +to his Majesty, and late Greek Professor in the +University of Cambridge, T. Smollett, M.D., and +others.</cite> A new edition, 38 vols., 1778–1761–1781, +Vol. XI. ... London ... 1779; and in (3) <cite>Romances, +Tales and Smaller Pieces of M. de Voltaire</cite>, +Vol. I., ... London.... 1794.</p> + +<p class='c017'>1754. (<i>b</i>) <cite>Babouc or the World as it goes. By ... +Voltaire. To which are added letters, etc.</cite> London, +*1754. Also in (1) <cite>Works</cite>, Vol. XI., 1762; in +(2) <cite>Works</cite> (new edition), Vol. XI., 1779; and in +(3) <cite>Romances</cite>, 1794, all cited above under +<cite>Zadig</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c017'>1762. (<i>c</i>) <cite>A Letter from a Turk concerning the Faquirs, +and his Friend Bababec</cite>, in (1) <cite>Works</cite>, Vol. +XIII., 1762 (?); in (2) <cite>Works</cite>, new edition, Vol. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>XIII., 1779; and in (3) <cite>Romances</cite>, 1794, all cited +above under <cite>Zadig</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c017'>1762. (<i>d</i>) <cite>History of the Travels of Scarmentado. +Written by himself</cite>, in (1) <cite>Works</cite>, Vol. XII., +*1762 (?); in (2) <cite>Works</cite>, new edition, Vol. XII., +1779; and in (3) <cite>Romances</cite>, 1794, all cited above +under <cite>Zadig</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c017'>1762. (<i>e</i>) <cite>Memnon; or Human Wisdom.</cite> [<cite>Memnon +the Philosopher</cite>] in (1) <cite>Works</cite>, Vol. XIII., *1762 (?); +in (2) <cite>Works</cite>, new edition, Vol. XIII., 1779; and +in (3) <cite>Romances</cite>, 1794, all cited above under <cite>Zadig</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c017'>1763. (<i>f</i>) <cite>History of a Good Bramin</cite> in (1) <cite>Works</cite>, +Vol. XXVI., *1763; and in (2) <cite>Works</cite>, new edition, +Vol. XIX., 1780, both cited above under +<cite>Zadig</cite>. Also printed separately as follows: <cite>The +History of a Good Bramin to which is annexed an +essay on the reciprocal contempt of nations proceeding +from their vanity.</cite> London, 1795 [no author or +translator given].</p> + +<p class='c017'>1765. (<i>g</i>) <cite>The Black and the White</cite>, in (1) <cite>Works</cite>, +Vol. XXV., *1765; and in (3) <cite>Romances</cite>, 1794, +both cited above under <cite>Zadig</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c017'>1769. (<i>h</i>) <cite>The Princess of Babylon.</cite> London, *1769. +Also in (1) <cite>Works ...</cite> Vol. XXV., 1770; and in +(3) <cite>Romances</cite>, 1794, both cited above under +<cite>Zadig</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c017'>1774. (<i>i</i>) <cite>The White Bull</cite> [tr. by J. Bentham], +*1774. Also in (3) <cite>Romances</cite>, 1794, cited above +under <cite>Zadig</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c017'>1774. (<i>j</i>) <cite>The Hermit, an Oriental Tale. Newly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>translated from the French of M. de Voltaire</cite> [being +a chapter of <cite>Zadig</cite>], 1774.</p> + +<p class='c016'>[<cite>N.B.</cite>—Apparently Voltaire’s oriental sketches: +<cite>André des Touches at Siam</cite>, <cite>A Conversation with a +Chinese</cite>, and <cite>An Adventure in India</cite>, as well as the +<cite>Letters of Amabed</cite>, were not translated into English +in the eighteenth century.]</p> + +<p class='c016'>40. 1750. <strong>Johnson, Samuel.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Ra.</cite> No. 38, July 28, 1750. <cite>Hamet and Raschid.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Ra.</cite> No. 65, Oct. 1750. <cite>Obidah, the son of Abensima, +and the Hermit.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Ra.</cite> No. 120, May 11, 1751. <cite>Nouradin the Merchant +and his son Almamoulin.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Ra.</cite> No. 190, Jan. 11, 1752. <cite>Morad the son of Hanuth +and his son Abonzaid.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Ra.</cite> Nos. 204, 205, Feb. 29, March 3, 1752. <cite>Seged, +Lord of Ethiopia.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'>1759. <cite>The Prince of Abissinia</cite> [sic], <i>a Tale</i> [= <cite>Rasselas</cite>]. +London, 1759. Second edition, 1759; +another edition, Dublin, 1759; ... ninth edition, +1793.</p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Id.</cite> No. 75, Sept. 22, 1759. <cite>Gelalledin.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Id.</cite> No. 99, March 8, 1760. <cite>Ortogrul of Basra.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Id.</cite> No. 101, March 22, 1760. <cite>Omar, Son of +Hassan.</cite></p> + +<p class='c016'>41. 1750? <cite>The History of Abdallah and Zoraide, or +Filial and Paternal Love.... To which is added +The Maiden Tower or a Description of an Eastern +Cave, Together with Contentment, a Fable.</cite> London +*(1750?).</p> + +<p class='c016'><span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>42. 1752. <strong>Hawkesworth, John.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Adv.</cite> No. 5, Nov. 21, 1752. <cite>The Transmigrations of +a Soul.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Adv.</cite> Nos. 20, 21, 22, Jan. 13, 16, 20, 1753. <cite>The +Ring of Amurath.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Adv.</cite> No. 32, Feb. 24, 1753. <cite>Omar the Hermit and +Hassan.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Adv.</cite> No. 72, July 14, 1753. <cite>The Story of Amana +and Nouraddin.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Adv.</cite> No. 76, July 28, 1753. <cite>The Story of Bozaldab.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Adv.</cite> No. 91, Sept. 18, 1753. <cite>Yamodin and Tamira.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Adv.</cite> No. 114, Dec. 8, 1753. <cite>Almet the Dervise.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Adv.</cite> No. 132, Feb. 9, 1754. <cite>Carazan.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'>1761. <cite>Almoran and Hamet: an Oriental Tale.</cite> London, +1761, 2 vols. Second edition, London, 1761; +another edition, 1780; another, London (1794?).</p> + +<p class='c016'>43. 1753. <strong>Moore, E.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Wo.</cite> No. 40, Oct. 4, 1753. <cite>Prince Ruzvanchad and the +princess Cheheristany, The Infelicities of Marriage.</cite></p> + +<p class='c016'>44. 1754. <strong>Cambridge, Richard Owen.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Wo.</cite> No. 72, May 16, 1754. <cite>Princess Parizade.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>The Fakeer, a Tale</cite> [in verse], —— 1756.</p> + +<p class='c016'>45. 1754. <strong>Colman and Thornton.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Con.</cite> No. 21, June 20, 1754. <cite>Story of Tquassaouw +and Knonmquaiha.</cite></p> + +<p class='c016'>46. 1754. <strong>Le Camus, A.</strong> <cite>Abdeker, or the art of preserving +beauty. Translated from an Arabic manuscript</cite> +[or rather from the French of A. Le Camus]. London, +*1754. Another edition, Dublin, 1756.</p> + +<p class='c016'>47. 1754. <strong>Murphy, Arthur, Esq.</strong> <cite>Works of A. Murphy</cite> +<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>in 7 volumes. London, 1786. Vol. VI. contains the +<cite>Gray’s Inn Journal</cite>, in No. 64 of which, Jan. 5, 1754, +is a tale (entitled, <cite>Aboulcasem of Bagdad</cite>), said to be +by “my friend Capt. Gulliver.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>48. 1755. <strong>Transmarine, Mr.</strong> [<i>pseud.</i>]. <cite>The Life and +surprizing</cite> [sic] <cite>Adventures of Friga Reveep ... +Written in French by himself and translated into +English by Mr. Transmarine</cite>, *1755. For full title, +cf. pp. 48, 49, <i>ante</i>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>49. 1757. <strong>Walpole, Horace.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>A Letter from Xo-Ho, a Chinese Philosopher at +London to his friend Lien Chi at Peking</cite>, *1757.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Hieroglyphic Tales.</cite> Strawberry Hill, *1785.</p> + +<p class='c016'>50. 1760. <strong>Goldsmith, Oliver.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>The Citizen of the World</cite>, first printed in form of +bi-weekly letters in Newbery’s <cite>Public Ledger</cite> beginning +Jan. 24, 1760. First edition, London, *1762. +2 vols. Other editions, 1769, 1774, 1796.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(1765). (<i>b</i>) <cite>Asem, an Eastern Tale: or a vindication +of the wisdom of Providence in the moral government +of the world</cite> *(1765 or 1759?). Cf. footnote +to p. 125, <i>ante</i>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>51. 1760. <strong>Hamilton, Antoine, Count.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>1760. (<i>a</i>) <cite>The History of the Thorn-Flower</cite> [= <cite>May-Flower</cite>], +in (1) <cite>Select Tales of Count Hamilton, +Author of the Life and Memoirs of the Count de +Grammont, Translated from the French</cite>. In two +volumes. Vol. I., London ... 1760; and (2) +<cite>History of May-Flower, A Circassian Tale</cite>, second +edition ... Salisbury ... London, 1796.</p> + +<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>(<i>b</i>) <cite>The Ram</cite>, in (1) 1760, cited above under <cite>The +History of the Thorn-Flower</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>c</i>) <cite>The History of the Four Facardins</cite>, in Vol. II. +of (1), 1760, cited above under <cite>The History of the +Thorn-Flower</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>52. 1762. <strong>Langhorne, John.</strong> <cite>Solyman and Almena.</cite> +Probably *1762. Second edition, London, 1764; +also edition in 1781; and one in East Windsor, +Connecticut, 1799.</p> + +<p class='c016'>53. 1764. <strong>Ridley, James</strong>, Rev., Chaplain to the East +India Company [<cite>Morell, Sir C.</cite> = <i>pseud.</i>]. <cite>Tales of +the Genii; or ... Delightful Lessons of Horam, the +Son of Asmar ... tr. from the Persian Manuscript +by Sir C. Morell</cite>, 1764. 2 vols. Also editions 1780, +*1785, *1794.</p> + +<p class='c016'>54. 1764. <strong>Marmontel, J. F.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>1764. (<i>a</i>) <cite>Soliman II.</cite> in (1) <cite>Moral Tales by M. Marmontel</cite>, +*1764–1766 (?). Vol. I.... London ... +*1764; in (2) <cite>Moral Tales, by M. Marmontel. In +three Volumes.</cite> Vol. I., Edinburgh, 1768; in (3) +<cite>Moral Tales, by M. Marmontel Translated from the +French, by C. Dennis and R. Lloyd. In three +Volumes.</cite> Vol. I., London ... 1781; in (4) another +edition of (3) Vol. I., Manchester ... [1790 +(?)]; in (5) <cite>Moral Tales by M. Marmontel. Translated +from the French. In two Volumes.</cite> Vol. I. +Cooke’s edition ... London ... (1795); and in +(6) <cite>Moral Tales by M. Marmontel.</cite> Vol. I. A +new edition ... London ... 1800.</p> + +<p class='c017'>1766 (?). (<i>b</i>) <cite>Friendship put to the Test</cite> in (1) Vol. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>III. *(1766?) of (1) cited above under <cite>Soliman +II.</cite>; in (2) Vol. III. (1768) of (2) cited above under +<cite>Soliman II.</cite>; in (3) Vol. III., 1781, of (3) cited above +under <cite>Soliman II.</cite>; in (4) = (4), (1790?), cited +above under <cite>Soliman II.</cite>; in (5) = (5), (1795), +cited above under <cite>Soliman II.</cite>; in (6) <cite>Marmontel’s +Tales, Selected and abridged for the Instruction and +Amusement of Youth, by Mrs. Pilkington ...</cite> +London ... 1799; and in (7) = (6), 1800, cited +above under <cite>Soliman II.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'>1799. (<i>c</i>) <cite>The Watermen of Besons</cite>, in (6) cited +above under <cite>Friendship put to the Test</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>55. 1767. [<strong>Kelly, Hugh.</strong>]</p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Ba.</cite> June 18, [1767]. <cite>Orasmin and Elmira, an Oriental +Tale.</cite> Also printed in Harrison’s <cite>British +Classicks</cite>, Vol. VI., London, *1794.</p> + +<p class='c016'>56. 1767. <strong>Sterne, Laurence.</strong> <cite>The Bramine’s Journal.</cite> +Written 1767, unpublished Ms. in the Additional Ms. +34,527, in British Museum.</p> + +<p class='c016'>57. 1767. [<strong>Sheridan, Mrs. Frances (Chamberlaine).</strong>] +<cite>The History of Nourjahad. By the editor of Sidney +Biddulph</cite>; Dublin, *1767. Other editions, London, +1788, and 1792.</p> + +<p class='c016'>58. 1769. <strong>Smollett, Tobias G.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>1769. (<i>a</i>) <cite>The History and Adventures of an Atom +by Nathaniel Peacock</cite> [<i>i.e.</i> T. Smollett]. London, +2 vols., *1749 [1769]. Tenth edition, London, 2 +vols., 1778; Edinburgh, 1784; London, 1786.</p> + +<p class='c017'>1773. (<i>b</i>) <cite>The Orientalist: A Volume of Tales after +the Eastern Taste. By the Author of Roderick +<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>Random, Sir Lancelot Greaves, &c., and others....</cite> +Dublin, *1773.</p> + +<p class='c016'>59. 1769. <strong>Musgrave, Sir W.</strong> <cite>The Female Captive</cite> [<i>i.e.</i> +Mrs. Crisp] <i>a narrative of Facts which happened in +Barbary in 1756 written by herself</i>. London, *1769, +2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>60. 1769. <strong>D’Alenzon Mons.</strong> <cite>The Bonze or Chinese +Anchorite, an Oriental Epic Novel Translated from +the Mandarine Language of Hoamchi-vam, a Tartarian +Proselite, by Mons. D’Alenzon....</cite> London, +*1769, 2 vols. [also 1770?]. Cf., for full title, p. 126, +n. 1, <i>ante</i>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>61. 1770. <strong>Chatterton, Thomas.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Narva and Mored, an African Eclogue</cite>, first +printed in <cite>London Magazine</cite>, May, *1770; and +reprinted in the <cite>Miscellanies</cite>, *1778.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>The Death of Nicou, an African Eclogue</cite>, first +printed in <cite>London Magazine</cite>, June, *1770; and +reprinted in the <cite>Miscellanies</cite>, *1778.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>c</i>) <cite>Heccar and Gaira, an African Eclogue</cite>, printed +in the <cite>Supplement to the Miscellanies</cite>, *1784; +(written Jan. 1770).</p> + +<p class='c016'>62. 1774. <strong>Vaucluse, Mad<sup>e</sup> Fauques</strong> [or <strong>Falques</strong>] <strong>de</strong>. +<cite>The Vizirs, or the Enchanted Labyrinth, an Oriental +Tale.</cite> London, *1774, 3 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>63. 1774. <strong>Johnstone, Charles.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>The History of Arsaces, Prince of Betlis, by the +editor of Chrysal.</cite> London, *1774.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>The Pilgrim, or a Picture of Life, in a series of +letters written mostly from London by a Chinese +<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>philosopher to his friend at Quang-Tong, containing +remarks upon the Laws, Customs and Manners +of the English and other Nations....</cite> London +*[1775], 2 vols. Other editions, London, 1775; +Dublin, 1775.</p> + +<p class='c016'>64. 1776. <strong>Irwin, Eyles.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Bedukah, or the Self-Devoted. An Indian Pastoral. +By the Author of Saint Thomas’s Mount....</cite> +London ... *1776.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Eastern Eclogues; Written during a Tour through +Arabia, Egypt, and other parts of Asia and +Africa, In the Year 1777, ...</cite> London, ... *1780. +[Contents: <cite>Eclogue</cite> I. <cite>Alexis: or The Traveller.</cite> +Scene: The Ruins of Alexandria. Time: Morning.... +<cite>Eclogue</cite> II. <cite>Selima, or the Fair Greek.</cite> +Scene: A Seraglio in Arabia Felix. Time: Noon.... +<cite>Eclogue</cite> III. <cite>Ramah; or the Bramin.</cite> Scene: +The Pagoda of Conjeveram. Time: Evening.... +<cite>Eclogue</cite> IV. <cite>The Escape, or, the Captives.</cite> Scene: +The Suburbs of Tunis. Time: Night....]</p> + +<p class='c016'>65. 1779. <strong>Richardson, Mr.</strong> “Professor of Humanity +at Glasgow.”</p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Mir.</cite> No. 8, Feb. 20, 1779. <cite>The Story of the Dervise’s +Mirror.</cite></p> + +<p class='c016'>66. (178-?) <strong>Moir, The Rev. J.</strong> <cite>Gleanings, or Fugitive +Pieces</cite>, London *(178-?), [contains <cite>Hassan</cite>].</p> + +<p class='c016'>67. 1782. <strong>Scott, John</strong> (d. 1783). <cite>Oriental Eclogues</cite> in +volume entitled <cite>The Poetical Works of John Scott</cite>, +London, *1782. [The <cite>Arabian Eclogue</cite> in this collection +was written by 1777.]</p> + +<p class='c016'><span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>68. 1782. <strong>Scott, Helenus, M.D.</strong> <cite>The Adventures of a +Rupee wherein are interspersed ... anecdotes Asiatic +and European.</cite> London, *1782.</p> + +<p class='c016'>69. 1783. <strong>Chilcot, Harriet</strong> (afterward <strong>Mezière</strong>). <cite>Ormar +and Zabria; or the Parting Lovers, an Oriental Eclogue</cite>, +in volume entitled <cite>Elmar and Ethlinda, a +Legendary Tale and Adalba and Ahmora, an Indian</cite> +[= Peruvian] <cite>Tale: with other pieces ...</cite> London ... +1783.</p> + +<p class='c016'>70. 1785. <strong>Reeve, Clara.</strong> <cite>The Progress of Romance, +through Times, Countries and Manners, with Remarks +on the good and bad effects of it, on them respectively, +in a course of evening conversations. By C. R., author +of the English Baron, The Two Mentors, etc....</cite> +Dublin, *1785 [contains <cite>The History of Charoba</cite>, +extracted from the <cite>History of Ancient Egypt, Translated +by J. Davies</cite>, *1672, <i>from the French of Monsieur +Vattier, written originally in the Arabian tongue by +Murtadi</i>. [Cf. Part II. of this Bibliography, No. 48.] +Clara Reeve modernized the language of Davies’s +translation somewhat].</p> + +<p class='c016'>71. (1785?) <strong>Confucius the Sage</strong> (<i>pseud.</i>). <cite>The Oriental +Chronicles of the times; being the translation +of a Chinese manuscript supposed to have been written +by Confucius the Sage</cite>, London *(1785?).</p> + +<p class='c016'>72. (1785?) <strong>Cumberland, Richard.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'><cite>Obs.</cite> No. 14 (1785?), <cite>Abderama</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>73. 1786. <strong>Beckford, William.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>History of the Caliph Vathek.</cite> English, *1786; +French, *1787.</p> + +<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>(1) The title-page of the first English edition +reads: <cite>An Arabian tale from an unpublished ms., +with notes critical and explanatory</cite>, London, 1786. +On p. v, another title is given: <cite>The History of +the Caliph Vathek, with notes</cite>. The notes were +by the translator, Samuel Henley, D.D.</p> + +<p class='c018'>(2) The book had been written between Jan. +1782 and Jan. 1783, in French by Beckford, +and was published in French by him in 1787, +one edition at Lausanne, another at Paris. [Cf. +Part II. of this Bibliography, No. 5, (1), Garnett’s +edition.]</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>The Story of Al Raoui—a tale from the Arabick.</cite> +London, *1799. Given in <cite>Memoirs of Wm. +Beckford</cite> by C. Redding. London, *1859. Vol. +I., p. 217.</p> + +<p class='c016'>74. 1786. <cite>The Baloon, or Aerostatic Spy. A Novel +containing a series of adventures of an aerial traveller</cite> +[contains the <cite>Eastern Tale of Hamet and Selinda</cite>]. +London, *1786. 2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>75. 1787. <strong>Bage, Robert.</strong> <cite>The Fair Syrian (a novel)</cite>, +*1787. See <cite>La Belle Syrienne, Roman en trois +parties; par l’auteur du Mont-Henneth et des Dunes +de Barrham. Traduit de l’Anglois ...</cite> *1788.</p> + +<p class='c016'>76. 1788. <cite>The Disinterested Nabob, a novel interspersed +with genuine descriptions of India, its manners and +customs.</cite> London, *1788. 3 vols. [Second edition.]</p> + +<p class='c016'>77. 1789. <strong>Berquin, Arnaud.</strong> <cite>The Blossoms of Morality,—by +the Editor of the Looking-Glass for the Mind.</cite> +London, *1789. Also, 1796.</p> + +<p class='c016'><span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>78. (1790?) <strong>Cooper, J.</strong> <cite>The Oriental Moralist or the +Beauties of the Arabian Nights Entertainments. +Translated from the original</cite> [<i>i.e.</i> from Galland’s +French version] <i>and accompanied with suitable reflections +adapted to each story by the Rev. Mr. Cooper, +author of the History of England, etc.</i>, London *(1790?). +Cf. also <cite>The Beauties of the Arabian Nights Entertainments +consisting of the most entertaining Stories</cite>, +London, 1792.</p> + +<p class='c016'>79. 1790. <strong>Knight, Ellis Cornelia.</strong> <cite>Dinarbas, a Tale: +being a continuation of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia</cite> +[<i>sic</i>], London, *1790. Third edition, London, 1793; +fourth edition, London, *1800. Also printed in +same volume with S. Johnson’s <cite>Rasselas ...</cite> Greenfield, +Mass., 1795.</p> + +<p class='c016'>80. 1790. <strong>Caraccioli, Louis Antoine de.</strong> <cite>Letters on the +Manners of the French ... written by an Indian at +Paris. Translated from the French by Chas. Shillito.</cite> +Colchester, *1790.</p> + +<p class='c016'>81. 1792. [<cite>New Arabian Nights.</cite>] <cite>Arabian Tales, or +a continuation of the Arabian Nights Entertainments ... +newly tr. from the original Arabic into French by +Dom Chavis ... and M. Cazotte ... and tr. from +the French into English by Robert Heron</cite>, Edinburgh +and London, *1792. 4 vols. Another edition, London, +1794, 3 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>82. (1795?) <cite>The Arabian Pirate, or authentic history +and fighting adventures of Tulagee Angria</cite> [a chapbook], +Newcastle.</p> + +<p class='c016'>83. (1795?) <cite>The Trial and Execution of the Grand +<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>Mufti, from an ancient Horsleian manuscript, found +in the Cathedral of Rochester ...</cite> London *(1795?).</p> + +<p class='c016'>84. 1796. <cite>The Siamese Tales, Being a Collection of +Stories told to the son of the Mandarin Sam-Sib, for +the Purpose of Engaging his mind in the Love of +Truth and Virtue, with an historical account of the +Kingdom of Siam. To which is added the Principal +Maxims of the Talapoins. Translated from the +Siamese</cite>, London, 1796. Another edition, Baltimore ... +1797.</p> + +<p class='c016'>85. 1796. [<strong>Mathias, T. J.</strong>] <cite>The Imperial Epistle from +Kien Long, Emperor of China to George III., King of +Great Britain in the year 1794. Translated into English +from the original Chinese ...</cite> [pseudo-oriental +satire in verse,] London, *1796. Other editions, +1798, 1802; and Philadelphia, 1800.</p> + +<p class='c016'>86. 1796. <strong>Klinger, F. M. von.</strong> <cite>The Caliph of Bagdad, +Travels before the Flood, an Interesting Oriental +record of men and manners in the antediluvian world, +interpreted in fourteen evening conversations between +the Caliph of Bagdad and his court, tr. from Arabic</cite> +[= translated from the German of F. M. von Klinger], +London, *1796. Cf. also No. 93 below, Lewis: +<cite>Amorassan</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>87. 1797. <strong>Addison, Mr.</strong> <cite>Interesting Anecdotes, Memoirs, +Allegories, essays and poetical fragments, tending to +amuse the fancy and inculcate morality</cite>, London, +*1797. 16 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>88. 1799. <strong>Du Bois, Edward.</strong> <cite>The Fairy of Misfortune; +or the Loves of Octar and Zulima, an Eastern Tale +<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>Translated from the French by the Author of a Piece +of Family Biography. The Original of the above +Work is supposed to be in the Sanskrit in the Library +of the Great Mogul.</cite> London, *1799.</p> + +<p class='c016'>89. 1800. <strong>Pilkington, Mrs. [Mary P.].</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>The Asiatic Princess, a tale.</cite> London, *1800. +2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>A Mirror of the Female Sex. Historical Beauties +for Young Ladies, intended to lead the female mind +to the Love and Practice of Moral Goodness, Designed +Principally for the use of Ladies Schools</cite>: +London, *1804. [Third Edition] contains <cite>The +Governor’s wife of Minchew</cite>; <cite>The Princess of +Jaskes</cite>; <cite>The Empress of China</cite>; <cite>Amestris</cite>, <cite>Queen +of Persia</cite>; <cite>Inkle</cite> and <cite>Yarico</cite> [West-Indian, not +oriental, taken from Addison, <cite>Sp.</cite> No. 11, March +13, 1710–1711].</p> + +<p class='c016'>90. (1800?) <strong>Day, Thomas.</strong> <cite>Moral Tales by Esteemed +Writers</cite> [contains <cite>The Grateful Turk</cite>], London +*(1800?).</p> + +<p class='c016'>91. 1802. <strong>Crookenden, Isaac.</strong> <cite>Romantic Tale. The +Revengeful Turk or Mystic Cavern.</cite> London, *1802.</p> + +<p class='c016'>92. 1804. <strong>Edgeworth, Maria.</strong> <cite>Popular Tales</cite> [contains +<cite>Murad the Unlucky</cite>]——, 1804; second edition, +London, 1805.</p> + +<p class='c016'>93. 1808. <strong>Lewis, Matthew Gregory.</strong> <cite>Romantic Tales.</cite> +London, *1808, 4 vols. Contains <cite>The Anaconda, an +East Indian Tale</cite>, in Vol. II.; <cite>The Four Facardins, +an Arabian tale</cite> [in part a translation, and in part +an original continuation by Lewis, of Hamilton’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>tale, <cite>Les Quatre Facardins</cite>] in Vols. II. and III.; +and <cite>Amorassan or the spirit of the frozen ocean, an +Oriental Romance</cite> [in part a close translation from +<cite>Der Faust der Morgenländer</cite> by F. M. von +Klinger] in Vol. IV.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span> + <h2 class='c006'>APPENDIX B. II.<br> <span class='c012'>BOOKS OF REFERENCE, CRITICAL, HISTORICAL, ETC.</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c019'><cite>An alphabetical list of the books most useful in a study +of this subject. Standard references of obvious value, e.g. +the Dictionary of National Biography, Boswell’s Johnson, +Chalmers’s English Poets, Lane’s Arabian Nights, +etc., are, with a few exceptions, omitted.</cite></p> + +<p class='c016'>1. <cite>Arabian Nights.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <strong>Burton, Sir Richard F.</strong> <cite>A Plain and literal +translation of the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, +now entitled the Book of the Thousand Nights and +a Night, with introduction, explanatory notes on the +manners and customs of Moslem men and a terminal +essay upon the history of the nights</cite> (in 10 vols.), +Benares, 1885. Printed by the Kamashastra Society +for private subscribers only. Cf. especially +in Vol. X., Burton’s <cite>Terminal Essay</cite>, and W. F. +Kirby’s <cite>Bibliography of the Thousand and One +Nights and their imitations</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <strong>Payne, John.</strong> <cite>The Book of the thousand nights +and one night ... done into English prose and +verse ...</cite> by John Payne. New York, 1884. 9 +vols. (Villon Society Publications; Vols. III.–IX., +published in London.) Cf. especially essay at end +<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>of Vol. IX. on the <cite>Book of the Thousand Nights +and one Night: its history and character</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>c</i>) <strong>Payne, John.</strong> <cite>Alaeddin and the Enchanted lamp; +Zein ul Asnam and the King of the Jinn: Two +stories done into English from the recently discovered +Arabic text, by John Payne</cite>, London, 1889.</p> + +<p class='c016'>2. <cite>Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen und +Literaturen</cite>, ... herausgegeben v. Alois Brandl u. +Heinrich Morf ... Braunschweig [especially the +volumes since 1902].</p> + +<p class='c016'>3. <strong>Armeno, M. Christoforo.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Peregrinaggio di tre giovanni figliuoli del Re di +Serendippo. Per opera di M. Christoforo Armeno +dalla Persiana nell’ Italiana lingua <a id='t295'></a>trasportato</cite>, +Venetia, 1557.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Die Reise der Söhne Giaffers aus dem Italienischen +des Christoforo Armeno übersetzt durch Johann Wetzel +1583</cite>, herausgegeben von Hermann Fischer und +Johann Bolte, Tübingen, 1895.</p> + +<p class='c016'>4. <strong>Beckford, William.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Vathek, an Arabian Tale</cite>, edited by R. Garnett, +London, 1893.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <span lang="fr"><cite>Vathek, réimprimé sur l’original français avec la +préface</cite> [de 1876] <i>de Stéphane Mallarmé</i>, Paris ... +1893.</span></p> + +<p class='c016'>5. <span lang="fr"><strong>Bédier, Joseph.</strong> <cite>Les Fabliaux. Études de littérature +populaire et d’histoire littéraire du moyen âge....</cite> +Paris, 1895, 2<sup>e</sup> éd.</span></p> + +<p class='c016'>6. <strong>Beers, H. A.</strong> <cite>History of English Romanticism in +the Eighteenth Century.</cite> New York, 1899.</p> + +<p class='c016'><span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>7. <strong>Beljame, A.</strong> <cite>Le public et les hommes de lettres en +Angleterre au dixhuitième siècle, 1660–1774</cite>; Paris, +1897, 2<sup>e</sup> éd.</p> + +<p class='c016'>8. <strong>Beloe, William.</strong> <cite>Miscellanies: consisting of Poems, +Classical Extracts, and Oriental Apologues, by Wm. +Beloe, F.S.A., Translator of Herodotus, Aulus Gellius, +etc.</cite>, London, 1795. 3 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>9. <strong>Bidpai.</strong> <cite>The Fables of Pilpay.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>The Fables of Pilpay</cite> [translated from the +French translation of Gilbert Gaulmin and Dāwūd +Said, by Joseph Harris, and remodelled by the +Rev. J. Mitford]. London, *1818.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>The Earliest English Version of the Fables of Bidpai, +The Morall Philosophie of Doni by Sir T. +North</cite>, edited by Joseph Jacobs, London, 1888.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>c</i>) <cite>Kalilah and Dimnah; or the Fables of Bidpai: +being an account of their literary history, with an +English translation of the later Syriac version of +the same, and notes by J. G. N. Keith-Falconer</cite>, +Cambridge [England], 1885.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>d</i>) <strong>Knatchbull, W.</strong> <cite>Kalila and Dimna or the Fables +of Bidpai, translated from the Arabic</cite>, Oxford, 1819.</p> + +<p class='c016'>10. <cite>British Museum Catalogue of Printed Books</cite>, <i>passim</i>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>11. <strong>Brunetière, Ferdinand.</strong> <cite>Études critiques sur l’histoire +de la littérature française, huitième série</cite>, Paris, +1907. [Contains a review of Pierre Martino: <cite>L’Orient +dans la littérature française au XVII<sup>e</sup> et au XVIII<sup>e</sup> +siècle</cite>, Paris, 1906.]</p> + +<p class='c016'>12. <cite>Le Cabinet des Fées; ou Collection Choisie des +Contes des Fées, et Autres Contes Merveilleux</cite> [edited +<span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>by C. J. Mayer], 41 Tom. (This collection originally +consisted of but 37 vols. Four additional volumes +were published at Geneva with two title-pages, on +the second of which is the date 1793, making the numbers +of volumes all together 41.) Paris et Geneva, +1785–1789. This collection contains <cite>Abdalla (Adventures +d’)</cite>; <cite>Aulnoy (Comtesse d’)</cite>; <cite>Bidpai et Lokman</cite>; +<cite>Caylus (Comte de)</cite>; <cite>Contes des genies</cite>; <cite>Contes +turcs</cite>; <cite>Gueulette</cite> [sic]; <cite>Hamilton (A. comte d’)</cite>; <cite>Mille +(Les) et un jours, contes persans</cite>; <cite>Mille (Les) et une +nuit, contes Arabes</cite>; <i>... suite (Dom Chavis et +M. Cazotte)</i>; <cite>Nourjahad</cite>; <cite>Perrault (Charles)</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>13. <strong>Campbell, Killis.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Study of the Romance of the Seven Sages, etc.</cite> in +<cite>Publications of the Modern Language Association +of America</cite>, 1899, Vol. XIV., 1 (n.s. VII., 1), edited +by J. W. Bright, Baltimore, 1899.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>The Seven Sages of Rome edited from the manuscripts +with introduction, notes, and glossary</cite>, in the +Albion Series, Ginn & Co., Boston, New York, +Chicago, London, 1907.</p> + +<p class='c016'>14. <strong>Chambers, Sir William.</strong> <cite>Dissertation on Oriental +Gardening.</cite> London, 1772.</p> + +<p class='c016'>15. <strong>Charlanne, Louis.</strong> <cite>L’influence française en Angleterre +au XVII<sup>e</sup> siècle.</cite> Paris, 1906.</p> + +<p class='c016'>16. <span lang="fr"><strong>Chauvin, Victor.</strong> <cite>Bibliographie des ouvrages arabes +ou relatifs aux arabes, publiés dans l’Europe chrétienne +de 1810 à 1885</cite>, par Victor Chauvin, professeur +à l’université de Liége: ouvrage auquel l’Académie +des Inscriptions a accordé en partage le prix Delalande-Guerineau. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>Liége et Leipzig, 1892–1905</span> [9 +vols, in 3, 1 tab.]. Contents: <span lang="fr">1, <cite>Préface, Table de +Schnurrer, Les proverbes</cite>; 2, <cite>Kalilah</cite>; 3, <cite>Louqmâne +et les Fabulistes, Barlaam, Antar et les romans de +chevalerie</cite>; 4–7, <cite>Les Mille et Une Nuits</cite>; 8, <cite>Syntipas</cite>; +9, <cite>Pierre Alphonse....</cite></span></p> + +<p class='c016'>17. <span lang="fr"><strong>Clarétie, Leo.</strong> <cite>Le roman en France au début du +18<sup>me</sup> siècle; Lesage, romancier, d’après de nouveaux +documents.</cite> Paris, 1890.</span></p> + +<p class='c016'>18. <strong>Clouston, W. A.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Flowers from a Persian Garden, and other papers.</cite> +London, 1890.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Group of Eastern romances and stories from the +Persian, Tamil and Urdu: with introduction, +notes, and appendix.</cite> Privately printed, Glasgow, +1889.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>c</i>) <cite>Literary Coincidences ... and Other Papers.</cite> +Glasgow, 1892.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>d</i>) <cite>Popular Tales and Fictions, their migrations and +transformations.</cite> Edinburgh and London, 1887, +2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>19. <strong>Boileau-Despreaux, Nicolas.</strong> <cite>Les Héros de roman +...</cite> edited by T. F. Crane, Boston, 1902.</p> + +<p class='c016'>20. <strong>Dickinson, G. L.</strong> <cite>Letters from a Chinese Official, +being an Eastern View of Western Civilization</cite>, New +York, 1903. McClure, Phillips & Co. Cf. William +Jennings Bryan’s <cite>Letters to a Chinese Official</cite>. McClure, +Phillips & Co., New York, 1906.</p> + +<p class='c016'>21. <strong>Drake, Nathan, M.D.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Essays, Biographical, Critical and Historical, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>Illustrative of the Tatler, Spectator and Guardian, +etc.</cite> London, 1805, 3 vols.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Essays, Biographical, Critical and Historical, +Illustrative of the Rambler, Adventurer and Idler, +and of the Various Periodical Papers, which in +Imitation of the Writings of Addison and Steele have +been published ... [to] 1809.</cite> London, 1809, 2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>22. <span lang="fr"><strong>Drujon, F.</strong> <cite>Les Livres à clef.</cite> Paris, 1888</span>, 2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>23. <strong>Dunlop, John Colin.</strong> <cite>History of Prose Fiction.</cite> +New edition revised ... by Henry Wilson. (Bohn’s +Standard Library), London, 1896, 2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>24. <strong>Fürst, Rudolph.</strong> <cite>Die Vorläufer der Modernen +Novelle im 18<sup>ten</sup> Jahrhundert</cite>, Halle a. S., 1897.</p> + +<p class='c016'>25. <strong>Gladwin, Francis.</strong> <cite>The Persian Moonshee....</cite> +Calcutta [Persian and English], 1795; another edition, +London, 1801.</p> + +<p class='c016'>26. <strong>Goldsmith, Oliver.</strong> <cite>The Citizen of the World</cite>, +edited by A. Dobson, London, 1893, 2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>27. <strong>Gueullette, T. S.</strong> and <strong>Caylus, Comte de</strong>.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Chinese Tales, or the marvellous adventures of the +Mandarin Fum-Hoam, translated from the French +of Thomas Simon Gueullette. Oriental Tales, +translated from the French of the Comte de Caylus.</cite> +London, 1817.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(b) <cite>The Transmigration of the Mandarin Fum-Hoam</cite>, +edited by L. D. Smithers, 1894.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>c</i>) <cite>The Thousand and one quarters of an hour. +(Tartarian Tales)</cite> edited by L. C. Smithers, London, +1893. Nichols & Company.</p> + +<p class='c016'>28. (<i>a</i>) <cite>Haoui-heu-Chuen. The Fortunate Union, a</cite></p> +<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span><cite>Romance from the Chinese original with notes and +illustrations by J. F. Davis.</cite> London, 1829.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Hau-Kiou Chooan; or the pleasing History a +translation [by J. Wilkinson] from the Chinese ... +to which are added; I. The Argument or story of a +Chinese Play; II. A Collection of Chinese Proverbs; +and III. Fragments of Chinese Poetry, with +notes</cite> [edited by Thomas Percy], 4 vols., R. and J. +Dodsley, London, 1761.</p> + +<p class='c016'>29. <strong>D’Herbelot de Molainville, B.</strong> <cite>Bibliothèque orientale +ou Dictionnaire universel, contenant généralement +tout ce qui regarde la connaissance des peuples +de l’Orient, leurs histoires et traditions véritables ou +fabuleuses, leurs religions, sectes et politique, etc.</cite>, +Paris, 1697. [Finished after 1695 by A. Galland.]</p> + +<p class='c016'>30. <strong>Hettner, Hermann.</strong> <cite>Literaturgeschichte des 18<sup>ten</sup> +Jahrhunderts.</cite> Braunschweig, 1893.</p> + +<p class='c016'>31. <cite>Hitopadesa. Fables and proverbs from the Sanskrit, +being the Hitopadesa, translated by Charles +Wilkins</cite> [in 1787, with a preface on “Pilpay”], with +an introduction by Henry Morley, London, 1888.</p> + +<p class='c016'>32. <strong>Hole, Richard.</strong> <cite>Remarks on the Arabian Nights +Entertainments, in which the origin of Sinbad’s voyages ... +is particularly considered.</cite> London, 1797.</p> + +<p class='c016'>33. <strong>Hoops, Johannes.</strong> <cite>Present Problems of English +Literary History</cite>, in <cite>Congress of Arts and Science, +Universal Exposition, St. Louis</cite>, 1904, edited by +Howard J. Rogers ... Boston and New York, 1906, +Vol. III., p. 415.</p> + +<p class='c016'><span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>34. <strong>Hoppner, J.</strong> <cite>Oriental Tales translated into English +Verse.</cite> London, 1805.</p> + +<p class='c016'>35. <strong>Hunt, J. H. Leigh.</strong> <cite>Classic Tales, Serious and +lively. With critical essays on the merits and reputations +of the authors.</cite> London, 1806–1807, 5 vols. +[contains selections from Hawkesworth, Johnson, +Goldsmith, Marmontel, Voltaire].</p> + +<p class='c016'>36. <strong>Inatulla.</strong> <cite>Persian Tales.</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) Ināyat Allāh. <cite>Tales (the Baar Danesh) tr. from +the Persian of Inatulla of Delhi</cite> [by A. Dow], London, +1768, 2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Bahar-danush, or Garden of knowledge, an oriental +romance, tr. from the Persic by Jonathan +Scott.</cite> Shrewsbury, 1799, 3 vols. in 2.</p> + +<p class='c016'>37. <strong>Johnson, Samuel.</strong> <cite>Rasselas</cite>, edited by G. B. Hill, +Oxford, 1887.</p> + +<p class='c016'>38. <strong>Jones, Sir William.</strong> <cite>Works....</cite> London, 1807, +13 vols. Cf. also Chalmers’s <cite>English Poets</cite>, London, +1810, Vol. XVIII., pp. 453–508.</p> + +<p class='c016'>39. <strong>Kalidasa.</strong> <cite>The Story of Dooshwanta and Sakoontala, +tr. from the Mahabharata, a Poem in the Sanskreet +Language, By Charles Wilkins, Esq.</cite> London, +1795 [originally published in Dalrymple’s <cite>Oriental +Repertory</cite>, London, 1793; another edition, 1808, +published by East India Company].</p> + +<p class='c016'>40. <strong>Keightley, Thomas.</strong> <cite>The Fairy Mythology</cite>, London, +1833, 2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>41. <strong>Knolles, Richard.</strong> <cite>Generall Historie of the Turkes +from the first beginning of that nation</cite>, ... London, +1603. Cf. Sir Paul Ricaut ...: <cite>The History of the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>Turkish Empire From the Year 1623 to the Year +1677....</cite> London ... 1680.</p> + +<p class='c016'>42. <strong>Koerting, Heinrich Karl Otto.</strong> <cite>Geschichte des +französischen Romans im XVII<sup>ten</sup> Jahrhundert, 2<sup>te</sup> +durch ein Vorwort ... vermehrte Ausgabe</cite>, Oppeln, +1891 [2 vols, in 1].</p> + +<p class='c016'>43. <strong>Loiseleur-Deslongchamps, A. L. A.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Essai sur les fables indiennes et sur leur introduction +en Europe, suivi du Roman des sept sages +de Rome, en prose publié pour la première fois +d’après un manuscrit de la Bibliothèque royale.</cite> +Paris, 1838.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <span lang="fr"><cite>Les Mille et un Jours ... Traduits ... par +Pétis de Lacroix</cite> ... nouvelle édition ... Paris, +1843.</span> [Cf. especially <cite>Introduction</cite> by editor.]</p> + +<p class='c016'>44. <strong>Marmontel, J. F.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Memoirs of Jean François Marmontel. With an +essay by William D. Howells.</cite> In two volumes, +Boston ... 1878.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Marmontel’s Moral Tales Selected with a revised +translation, biographical introduction, and notes by +Geo. Saintsbury....</cite> London, 1895.</p> + +<p class='c016'>45. <strong>Martino, Pierre.</strong> <cite>L’Orient dans la littérature française +au XVII<sup>e</sup> et au XVIII<sup>e</sup> siècle.</cite> Paris, 1906.</p> + +<p class='c016'>46. <strong>Menendez y Pelayo, D. M.</strong> <cite>Origenes de la Novela.</cite> +Tomo I. <cite>Tratado historico sobre la primitiva novela +española....</cite> Madrid, 1905, in <cite>Nueva Biblioteca de +Autores Españoles</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>47. <strong>Moore, Thomas.</strong> <cite>The Epicurean, a Tale with ... +illustrations by J. M. W. Turner.</cite> London, 1839.</p> + +<p class='c016'><span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>48. <strong>Murtadi.</strong> Murtadhā ibn al-Khafif. <cite>The Egyptian +History, treating of the Pyramids, the inundations +of the Nile and other prodigies ... written ... +in the Arabian tongue by Murtadi ... rendered into +French ... by M. Vattier ... and thence ... into +English by J. Davies</cite>, London, 1672 [contains <cite>Charoba</cite>].</p> + +<p class='c016'>49. <cite>The Novelists Magazine.</cite> London, 1780–1781, in +23 vols. [contains many oriental tales].</p> + +<p class='c016'>50. <strong>Ouseley, Sir William</strong> (1771–1842).</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Bakhtyar nameh, or story of Prince Bakhtyar +and the ten viziers, a series of Persian tales from a +manuscript in the collection of Sir William Ouseley</cite> +[text in Persian and English], London, 1801.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Bakhtyār nāma; a Persian romance tr. from a +manuscript text by Sir W. Ouseley, edited with introduction +and notes by W. A. Clouston.</cite> [Larkhall, +Lanarkshire], 1883.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>c</i>) <cite>Oriental collections, consisting of original essays +and dissertations, translations, and miscellaneous +papers, illustrating the history and antiquities, the +arts, sciences, and literature of Asia.</cite> London, 1797–1798, +2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>51. [<strong>Percy, Thomas</strong>, editor]. <cite>Miscellaneous Pieces +relating to the Chinese</cite>, London, 1762, 2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>52. <strong>Pétit de Julleville, L.</strong> [editor]. <span lang="fr"><cite>Histoire de la +langue et la littérature française des origines à 1900</cite>, +Paris, 1899.</span></p> + +<p class='c016'>53. <strong>Phelps, W. L.</strong> <cite>Beginnings of the English Romantic +Movement; a study in eighteenth-century literature.</cite> +Boston, 1893.</p> + +<p class='c016'><span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>54. <strong>Raleigh, Walter.</strong> <cite>The English Novel....</cite> Fifth +edition.... New York, 1904.</p> + +<p class='c016'>55. <strong>Redding, Cyrus.</strong> <cite>Memoirs of William Beckford of +Fonthill....</cite> London, 1859, 2 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>56. <strong>Richardson, John.</strong> <cite>Dissertation on languages, literatures ... +of Eastern nations</cite>, appended to <cite>Dictionary +of Persian, Arabic and English ... new edition +by Chas. Wilkins....</cite> 1806.</p> + +<p class='c016'>57. <span lang="fr"><strong>Rigault, A. H.</strong> <cite>Histoire de la querelle des anciens +et des modernes....</cite> Paris, 1856</span>, 4 vols.</p> + +<p class='c016'>58. <strong>Saintsbury, George.</strong> <cite>Essays on French Novelists....</cite> +London, 1891 [especially on <cite>A. Hamilton</cite>].</p> + +<p class='c016'>59. <span lang="fr"><strong>Sayous, P. A.</strong> <cite>Histoire de la littérature française +à l’étranger depuis le commencement du XVII<sup>e</sup> siècle.</cite> +Paris, 1853</span> [2 vols.].</p> + +<p class='c016'>60. <strong>Schofield, W. H.</strong> <cite>English Literature from the +Norman Conquest to Chaucer.</cite> New York and London, +1906.</p> + +<p class='c016'>61. <strong>Scott, Jonathan</strong> (1754–1829). <cite>Tales, anecdotes +and letters translated from the Arabic and Persian.</cite> +Shrewsbury, 1800.</p> + +<p class='c016'>62. <strong>Seele, Wilhelm.</strong> <cite>Voltaire’s Roman Zadig ou la +Destinée. Eine Quellen-Forschung....</cite> Leipzig, +Reudnitz, 1891.</p> + +<p class='c016'>63. <strong>Seeley, J. R.</strong> <cite>The Expansion of England.</cite> Boston +and London, 1901.</p> + +<p class='c016'>64. <strong>Stephen, Sir Leslie.</strong> <cite>English Literature and +Society in the Eighteenth Century, Ford Lectures, +1903....</cite> New York and London, 1904. <cite>History of +English Thought in the Eighteenth Century....</cite> London, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>1876, 2 vols.; Third edition, New York, 1902, +2 vols. <cite>Hours in a Library....</cite> Second Series, +London, 1876.</p> + +<p class='c016'>65. <cite>Tootinameh (Tūti-Namah or Tales of a parrot).</cite></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Tootinameh ... or Tales of a parrot, in the Persian +language with an English translation.</cite> Calcutta, +1792.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Tales of a Parrot done into English from a Persian +manuscript entitled Tooti-Nameh, by</cite> [B. Gerrans] +<i>a teacher of the Persic, Arabic, Hebrew, Syriac, +Chaldaic, Greek, Latin, Italian, French and English +languages</i>. London, 1792.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>c</i>) <cite>The Tooti-Nameh ... with an English translation</cite> +[by F. Gladwin] ... Calcutta [printed], London, +1801.</p> + +<p class='c016'>66. <strong>Varnhagen, Hermann.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <span lang="de"><cite>Ein indisches Märchen auf seiner Wanderung +durch die asiatischen und europäischen Litteraturen....</cite> +Berlin, 1882.</span></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Longfellow’s Tales of a Wayside Inn und ihre +Quellen....</cite> Berlin, 1884.</p> + +<p class='c016'>67. <strong>Warren, F. M.</strong> <cite>History of the Novel Previous to +the Seventeenth Century.</cite> New York, 1895.</p> + +<p class='c016'>68. <strong>Weber, Henry William</strong> (1783–1818). <cite>Tales of +the East, comprising the most Popular Romances of +Oriental Origin and the best Imitations by European +Authors, with new translations and additional tales, +never before published</cite> [with a useful preface by +H. W. W.], Edinburgh, 1812, 3 vols. Vol. I. (<cite>I.</cite>) +<cite>Arabian Nights.</cite> (<cite>II.</cite>) <cite>New Arabian Nights.</cite> Vol. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>II. (<cite>III.</cite>) <cite>The Persian Tales.</cite> (<cite>IV.</cite>) <cite>The Persian +Tales of Inatulla.</cite> (<cite>V.</cite>) <cite>The Oriental Tales by Caylus.</cite> +(<cite>VI.</cite>) <cite>Nourjahad</cite> (by Mrs. Sheridan). Vol. III. (<cite>VII.</cite>) +<cite>The Turkish Tales.</cite> (<cite>VIII.</cite>) <cite>The Tartarian Tales</cite> +(by S. Gueullette). (<cite>IX.</cite>) <cite>The Chinese Tales</cite> (by S. +Gueullette) (<cite>X.</cite>) <cite>The Mogul Tales</cite> (by S. Gueullette). +(<cite>XI.</cite>) <cite>Tales of the Genii</cite> (by “Sir Chas. Morell,” +<i>i.e.</i> Ridley). (<cite>XII.</cite>) <cite>History of Abdallah the Son +of Hanif.</cite></p> + +<p class='c016'>69. <strong>Weston, Stephen.</strong></p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>a</i>) <cite>Fan-hy-cheu, a tale, in Chinese and English, +[taken from a collection of Novels entitled the Heart +Blue or Heart true History] with notes and a short +grammar of the Chinese language.</cite> London, 1814.</p> + +<p class='c017'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>Persian Recreations; or New tales, with explanatory +notes on the original text and curious details of +two ambassadors to James I. and George III....</cite> +new edition, London, 1812.</p> + +<p class='c016'>70. <strong>Whittuck, Charles.</strong> <cite>The Good Man of the XVIII. +Century, a monograph on XVIII. century didactic +literature.</cite> London, 1901.</p> + +<p class='c016'>71. <strong>Warton, Thomas.</strong> <cite>History of English Poetry ...</cite> +[contains a dissertation on the <cite>Origin of Romantic +Fiction in Europe</cite>], new edition, London, 1824, 4 vols.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span> + <h2 class='c006'>INDEX</h2> +</div> + +<ul class='index c003'> + <li class='c020'><cite>Abdeker</cite>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Abu Jaafar Ebn Tophail, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Addison, Joseph, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>, <a href='#Page_255'>255</a>; + <ul> + <li>moralistic tales, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>–85, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>;</li> + <li>philosophic tales, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>–118;</li> + <li>satiric tales, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>–173.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'>“Addison, Mr.,” <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Adventurer</cite>, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>–95, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a> n. 2; + <ul> + <li><i>see</i> App. B, I., No. 42, pp. 281, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Adventures of Abdalla, Son of Hanif, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>–41, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Adventures of Prince Jakaya, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>African Eclogues</cite>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Almoran and Hamet</cite>, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>–97.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Amorassan</cite>, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a> n. 5.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Amusements Serious and Comical</cite>, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a>–170.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Amusements sérieux et comiques</cite>, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>–170, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Anaconda, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, <a href='#Page_xv'>xv</a>, <a href='#Page_xvii'>xvii</a>, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_1'>1</a>–13, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a>, <a href='#Page_214'>214</a>, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>–244, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>, <i>et passim</i>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Armeno, M. Chr., <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Arnold, Matthew, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Asem</cite>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Asiatic Princess, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Atterbury, Bishop, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>Aubin, Penelope, <cite>Noble Slaves</cite>, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Bababec</cite>, <a href='#Page_207'>207</a>, <a href='#Page_209'>209</a>, <a href='#Page_210'>210</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Bage, Robert, <cite>The Fair Syrian</cite>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Bajazet</cite>, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Baloon, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Barlaam and Josaphat</cite>, <a href='#Page_xix'>xix</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Beautiful Turk, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Beckford, William, <a href='#Page_xv'>xv</a>, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>–41, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>–71, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Bedukah</cite>, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Bélier, Le</cite>, <a href='#Page_217'>217</a>–219.</li> + <li class='c020'>Bentley, R., <cite>Modern Novels</cite>, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Bickerstaffe, Isaac, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Bidpai</cite>, <a href='#Page_xix'>xix</a>, <a href='#Page_xx'>xx</a>, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a> n. 4.</li> + <li class='c020'>Bignon, Jean Paul, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Black and the White, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_207'>207</a>, <a href='#Page_209'>209</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Blossoms of Morality, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Boccalini, T., <a href='#Page_240'>240</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Boileau, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Boles, W., <a href='#Page_202'>202</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Bonze, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>, <a href='#Page_131'>131</a>–132.</li> + <li class='c020'>Bougeant, G. H., <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>, <a href='#Page_213'>213</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Bradshaw, William, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Bramine’s Journal, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Brémond, G. de, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Brief and Merry History of Great Britain, A</cite>, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Brown, T., <a href='#Page_85'>85</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a>–170.</li> + <li class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>Bryan, W. J., <a href='#Page_191'>191</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'>Byron, Lord, <a href='#Page_xvii'>xvii</a>, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a> n. 2, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Caliph of Bagdad, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Candide</cite>, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a>–151.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Castle of Otranto, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Caylus, A. C. P. de T., Comte de, <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a>, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a>–213, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Cazotte, M., <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Chamberlain, Paul, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Chambers, Sir William, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Charoba</cite>, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>–61, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a> n. 2, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Chatterton, Thomas, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>–54.</li> + <li class='c020'>Chavis, Dom, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Chilcot, Harriet, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'>Chinese architecture and decorations, craze for, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a>–225.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Chinese Letters</cite>, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Chinese Tales</cite>, <i>see</i> Gueullette.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Citizen of the World, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_xv'>xv</a>, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>–199, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a>, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a>, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Collins, William, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>–53.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Conduct of Christians, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Consolidator, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>–200.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Contentment</cite>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Contes Philosophiques</cite>, <a href='#Page_132'>132</a>–140, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a>–151, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Cooper, Rev. Mr., <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>–109.</li> + <li class='c020'>“Cornwall, Barry,” <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Coverley, Sir Roger de</cite>, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Crébillon, C. P. J. de, <a href='#Page_xxv'>xxv</a>, <a href='#Page_277'>277</a>, App. B, I., No. 29.</li> + <li class='c003'>D’Argens, Marquis, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>D’Aulnoy, Countess, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a> n. 1 (<i>c</i>), <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>Defoe, Daniel, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a>, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>; + <ul> + <li><cite>The Farther Adventures of Robinson Crusoe</cite>, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>;</li> + <li><cite>Consolidator</cite>, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a>;</li> + <li><cite>Tour through England</cite>, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a>;</li> + <li><cite>System of Magic</cite>, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a>;</li> + <li><cite>Story of Ali Abrahazen and the Devil</cite>, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a>;</li> + <li><cite>Story of the Arabian Magician in Egypt</cite>, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a>;</li> + <li><cite>Robinson Crusoe</cite>, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>, <a href='#Page_129'>129</a>, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a>, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'>De Quincey, T., <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Dickens, C., <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Dickinson, G. Lowes, <a href='#Page_191'>191</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Dinarbas</cite>, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Disciplina Clericalis</cite>, <a href='#Page_xix'>xix</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Disinterested Nabob, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Dissertation on Oriental Gardening</cite>, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Doom of a City, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>D’Orville, <cite>The Adventures of Prince Jakaya</cite>, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Dramas, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a> n. 2, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'>Dufresny, C. R., <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a>–170, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Eastern Eclogues</cite>, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'>Edgeworth, Maria, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>–102, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Elia, Essays of</cite>, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Espion Turc, L’</cite>, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>; + <ul> + <li><i>see also</i> <cite>Turkish Spy</cite> and Marana.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'>Evelyn, John, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Fables of Pilpay</cite>, <a href='#Page_xix'>xix</a>, <a href='#Page_xx'>xx</a>, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a> n. 4.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Fair Syrian, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Farther Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Fauques de Vaucluse, Mme., <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Faust der Morgenländer, Der</cite>, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span><cite>Female Captive, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>–51, <a href='#Page_210'>210</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Fielding, Henry, <a href='#Page_131'>131</a>, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Fitzgerald, Edward, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Fleur d’Epine</cite>, <a href='#Page_213'>213</a>–217.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Four Facardins, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a>, <a href='#Page_220'>220</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Friendship put to the Test</cite>, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'>Galland, Antoine, <a href='#Page_xvi'>xvi</a>, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>-xxv, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Gebir</cite>, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>–61, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Generall History of the Turks, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_xxi'>xxi</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'>Goldsmith, Oliver, <a href='#Page_xv'>xv</a>, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>, <a href='#Page_92'>92</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>–199, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a>, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a>, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Gomez, Mme. de, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a>, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Good Bramin, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_139'>139</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Graffigny, Mme. F. Huguet de, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Grateful Turk, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Guardian</cite>, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>; + <ul> + <li><i>see also</i> Addison and Steele.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'>Gueullette, Thomas Simon, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a>; + <ul> + <li><cite>Chinese Tales</cite>, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a>–36, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a>;</li> + <li><cite>Mogul Tales</cite>, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a>, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>–38, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>–88, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>;</li> + <li><cite>Tartarian Tales</cite>, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>;</li> + <li><cite>Peruvian Tales</cite>, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Gulliver’s Travels</cite>, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Hai Ebn Yokdhan</cite>, [or “<cite>Yockdhan</cite>”] <cite>The Life of</cite>, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>–131.</li> + <li class='c020'>Hale, Edward Everett, <cite>My Double and How He Undid Me</cite>, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Hall of Eblis, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Hamet and Selinda</cite>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Hamilton, Antoine, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>–70, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>, <a href='#Page_213'>213</a>–220.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Hassan</cite>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>Hatchett, William, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Hattige</cite>, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Hau Kiou Chooan</cite>, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Hawkesworth, John, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>–97, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Haywood, Mrs. Eliza, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Hermit, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a>–79, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Hieroglyphic Tales</cite>, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>, <a href='#Page_220'>220</a>, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Hillier, A., <a href='#Page_202'>202</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>History and Adventures of an Atom</cite>, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>History of Abdalla and Zoraide, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a> n. 2, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>History of Arsaces, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>History of Henrietta de Bellgrave, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>History of Rodomond and the Beautiful Indian, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>History of the Caliph Vathek</cite>, see <cite>Vathek</cite>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Hughes, John, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Humphrey Clinker</cite>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Interesting Anecdotes</cite>, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Irving, Washington, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'>Irwin, Eyles, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c003'>Johnson, Samuel, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>, <a href='#Page_255'>255</a>; + <ul> + <li>moralistic tales, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>–93;</li> + <li>philosophic tales in <cite>Rambler</cite> and <cite>Idler</cite>, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>–124;</li> + <li><cite>Rasselas</cite>, <a href='#Page_xv'>xv</a>, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>–154, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'>Johnstone, Charles, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a>, App. B, I., No. 63, <i>see also History of Arsaces</i>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Jones, Sir William, <a href='#Page_xvii'>xvii</a>, <a href='#Page_xviii'>xviii</a>, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Kalila and Dimna</cite>, <a href='#Page_xix'>xix</a>, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Kelly, Hugh, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'>Klinger, F. M., <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>Knight, Ellis Cornelia, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'>Knolles, R., <a href='#Page_xxi'>xxi</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c003'>Lamb, Charles, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Landor, Walter Savage, <cite>Gebir</cite>, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>–61, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Langhorne, John, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Le Camus, A., <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Le Sage, A. L. R., <a href='#Page_22'>22</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Letters from a Chinese Official</cite>, <a href='#Page_191'>191</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Letters from Xo-Ho</cite>, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Letters of a Peruvian Princess</cite>, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Letters to a Chinese Official</cite>, <a href='#Page_191'>191</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Letters Writ by a Turkish Spy</cite>, <a href='#Page_xvii'>xvii</a>, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a>–162, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Lettres Persanes, Les</cite>, <a href='#Page_134'>134</a>, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a>–180.</li> + <li class='c020'>Lewis, Matthew Gregory, <cite>The Anaconda</cite>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>; + <ul> + <li><cite>The Monk</cite>, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>;</li> + <li><cite>Romantic Tales</cite>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>;</li> + <li><cite>Four Facardins</cite>, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a> n. 1.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Life and Surprising Adventures of Friga Reveep ..., The</cite>, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>–49.</li> + <li class='c020'>Lyttelton, Lord, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>–186, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'>Marana, G. P. xvii, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>–163, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'>Marmontel, Jean François, <a href='#Page_xxv'>xxv</a>, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>–77, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a>–207.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Matron of Ephesus, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Maugraby the Magician</cite>, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>May-Flower</cite>, <a href='#Page_214'>214</a>–217.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Memnon the Philosopher</cite>, <a href='#Page_207'>207</a>, <a href='#Page_209'>209</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Midgley, Robert, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a>, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Milk for Babes</cite>, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a>, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span><cite>Mille et un Jours, Les</cite>, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>; + <ul> + <li><i>see also</i> Pétis de la Croix.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Mille et un Nuits, Les</cite>, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>; + <ul> + <li><i>see</i> Galland.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Mogul Tales</cite>, <i>see</i> Gueullette.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Monk, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Montagu, Lady M. W., <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Montesquieu, C. de S., Baron de, <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a>, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a>–178, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Moore, Thomas, <a href='#Page_xvii'>xvii</a>, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Moral Tales by Esteemed Writers</cite>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Murad the Unlucky</cite>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>–102, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Mysteries of Udolpho, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>New Arabian Nights</cite>, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>–45, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Noble Slaves</cite>, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Nourjahad</cite>, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a>–99, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Novel, The English, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>–243.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Oriental Chronicle, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Oriental Eclogues</cite>, by Collins, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>; + <ul> + <li>by J. Scott, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'>Oriental fiction in England before eighteenth century, <a href='#Page_xix'>xix</a>-xxii.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Orientalist, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Oriental Moralist, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>–109.</li> + <li class='c020'>Oriental tale, definition of, <a href='#Page_xv'>xv</a>, <a href='#Page_xvi'>xvi</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Oriental Tales, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a>–213.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Ormar and Zabria</cite>, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c003'>Parnell, Thomas, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a>–79, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Peregrinaggio di tre giovanni figliuoli del Re di Serendippo</cite>, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Periodicals</cite>, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a>; + <ul> + <li><i>see</i> Addison, Hawkesworth, Steele, and App. B, I., <i>passim</i>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>Perrault, Charles, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Perseis</cite>, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Persian Anecdotes</cite>, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a>, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Persian Eclogues</cite>, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Persian Letters</cite>, by Lyttelton, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>–186, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a>; + <ul> + <li>by Montesquieu, <i>see</i> <cite>Lettres Persanes, Les</cite>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Persian Tales</cite>, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>–25, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>; + <ul> + <li><i>see also</i> Pétis de la Croix.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Persian Tales of Inatulla</cite>, <a href='#Page_92'>92</a> n. 1.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Peruvian Tales</cite>, <i>see</i> Gueullette.</li> + <li class='c020'>Pétis de la Croix, <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a>, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>; + <ul> + <li><i>see also</i> <cite>Persian Tales</cite>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'>Philips, Ambrose, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a>, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a>, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>; + <ul> + <li><i>see also</i> <cite>Persian Tales</cite>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Pied Piper of Hamelin, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_34'>34</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Pilkington, Mrs. Mary P., <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Pococke, Edward, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'>Pope, Alexander, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a>, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a>, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a>, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Princess of Babylon, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_207'>207</a>–209.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Progress of Romance, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Quatre Facardins, Les</cite>, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a>, <a href='#Page_220'>220</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Ragguagli di Parnaso</cite>, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Ram, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_218'>218</a>, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Rasselas</cite>, <a href='#Page_xv'>xv</a>, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>–154, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>; + <ul> + <li><i>see also</i> <cite>Dinarbas</cite>, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Recollections of the Arabian Nights</cite>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Reeve, Clara, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'>Ridley, Rev. J., <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Robber Caliph, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span><cite>Robinson Crusoe</cite>, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>, <a href='#Page_129'>129</a>, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a>, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>; + <ul> + <li><cite>Farther Adventures of</cite>, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Romance of an Hour, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'>Romanticism, <a href='#Page_xv'>xv</a>-xxiii, Chap. V.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Romantic Tales</cite>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Santon Barsisa, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Scott, John, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Scott, Sir Walter, <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Seged, Lord of Ethiopia</cite>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Segrais, J. Regnauld de, <cite>Bajazet</cite>, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Selima and Azor</cite>, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Sendebar</cite>, <a href='#Page_xix'>xix</a>, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Seven Sages of Rome, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Sheridan, Mrs. Frances, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Smollett, T., <a href='#Page_203'>203</a>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Soliman II.</cite>, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a>–207.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Solyman and Almena</cite>, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a>, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>–100.</li> + <li class='c020'>Southey, Robert, <a href='#Page_xvii'>xvii</a>, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Spectator</cite>, <i>see</i> Addison and Steele.</li> + <li class='c020'>Steele, Sir Richard, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_170'>170</a>, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>; + <ul> + <li><i>see</i> Addison.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'>Sterne, Laurence, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Stevenson, R. L., <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Story of Ali Abrahazen and the Devil</cite>, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Story of the Arabian Magician in Egypt</cite>, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Sultan, or a Peep into the Seraglio, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a> n. 2.</li> + <li class='c020'>Swift, J., <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>; + <ul> + <li><cite>Gulliver’s Travels</cite>, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c020'><cite>System of Magic, A</cite>, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Tales of the Genii</cite>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Tartarian Tales</cite>, <i>see</i> Gueullette.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Tatler</cite>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Temple, Sir William, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>Tennyson, A., <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Thackeray, W. M., <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Thalaba</cite>, <i>see</i> Southey.</li> + <li class='c020'>Thomson, James (1832–1882), <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Thorn-Flower</cite>, <a href='#Page_214'>214</a>–217.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Thousand and One Days</cite>, <i>see</i> <cite>Persian Tales</cite>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Thousand and One Nights</cite>, <i>see</i> <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Tour through England</cite>, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Travels and Adventures of the Three Princes of Serendip</cite>, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>–31.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Travels of Scarmentado</cite>, <a href='#Page_207'>207</a>, <a href='#Page_210'>210</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Trial and Execution of the Grand Mufti, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Turkish Spy, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_xvii'>xvii</a>, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>–162, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Turkish Tales</cite>, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>–29, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Unfortunate Princess, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Vathek</cite>, <a href='#Page_xvii'>xvii</a>, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>–41, <a href='#Page_43'>43</a> n. 1, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>–71, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span><cite>Vision of Mirza, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>–114, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Vizirs, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Voltaire, F. M. A. de, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>; + <ul> + <li>“<i>contes philosophiques</i>,” <a href='#Page_132'>132</a>–140, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a>, and 144–151 (<cite>Candide</cite>);</li> + <li>satiric tales, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>, <a href='#Page_207'>207</a>–211, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a>.</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c003'>Walpole, Horace, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a> n. 3, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a>, <a href='#Page_220'>220</a>, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a>, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Watermen of Besons, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>White Bull, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_207'>207</a>, <a href='#Page_209'>209</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Whitehead, William, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>Wonderful Travels of Prince Fan-Feredin, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_213'>213</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'>Wordsworth, W., <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>World</cite>, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a>.</li> + <li class='c020'><cite>World as It Goes, The</cite>, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>–140.</li> + <li class='c003'><cite>Zadig</cite>, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>, <a href='#Page_132'>132</a>–138; + <ul> + <li><i>see also</i> <cite>Hermit, The</cite>.</li> + </ul> + </li> +</ul> + +<hr class='c021'> +<div class='footnote' id='f1'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. <cite>Standard Dictionary of the English Language</cite>, Vol. II., +New York, London, and Toronto, 1895.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f2'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. Martino, Pierre, <cite>L’Orient dans la littérature française +au XVII<sup>e</sup> et au XVIII<sup>e</sup> siècle</cite>, Paris, 1906, p. 20.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f3'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. Galland, <cite>Paroles remarquables des Orientaux</cite>, Paris, +1694, Avertissement, quoted by P. Martino, <i>op. cit.</i>, +p. 221.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f4'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r4'>4</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 73, pp. 288, 289.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f5'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r5'>5</a>. <span lang="fr">Cf. F. Brunetière, <cite>Études critiques sur l’histoire de la +Littérature française, huitième série</cite>, Paris, 1907: <cite>L’Orient +dans la littérature française</cite>, p. 183: “Schopenhauer, +dont la philosophie n’est elle-même qu’un bouddhisme +occidental, a écrit quelque part, en 1819 ou 1822, que +‘le XIX<sup>e</sup> siècle ne devrait guère moins un jour à la connaissance +du vieux monde oriental que le XVI<sup>e</sup> siècle +à la découverte ou à la révélation de l’antiquité gréco-romaine.’”</span></p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f6'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r6'>6</a>. Cf. pp. 104, 105, and App. B, I., No. 10, p. 271, <i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f7'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r7'>7</a>. M. de Cézy, French ambassador to Constantinople, +thirty years before Racine’s <cite>Bajazet</cite>, brought the original +story to Paris. Cf. P. Martino, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 196.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f8'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r8'>8</a>. Galland and Pétis de la Croix both went to the East +with embassies.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f9'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r9'>9</a>. <cite>Nathaniel Hawthorne</cite>, by G. E. Woodberry, in the +American Men of Letters Series. Boston and New York, +1902, p. 54; cf. p. 12.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f10'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r10'>10</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 4, p. 269.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f11'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r11'>11</a>. Proverbial despite the “extreme simplicity of its +style,” noted by Mr. John Payne, Vol. IX., pp. 373, 375, +of his edition of <cite>The Book of the Thousand Nights and +a Night</cite>. London, 1884. “Nothing can be more unlike +the idea of barbaric splendour, of excessive and heterogeneous +ornament, that we are accustomed to associate +with the name, than the majority of the tales that compose +the collection. The life described in it is mainly +that of the people, those Arabs so essentially brave, sober, +hospitable, and kindly, almost hysterically sensitive to +emotions of love and pity as well as to artistic impressions.</p> + +<hr class='c023'> + +<p class='c022'>The splendours of description, the showers of barbaric +pearl and gold, that are generally attributed to the work +exist but in isolated instances. The descriptions are +usually extremely naïve.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f12'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r12'>12</a>. Cf. <cite>Rambler</cite>, No. 17.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f13'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r13'>13</a>. <cite>The Story of the Sleeper Awakened or The Dead Alive.</cite></p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f14'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r14'>14</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 15, p. 273.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f15'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r15'>15</a>. The <cite>Persian Tales</cite>, in <cite>Tales of the East</cite>, edited by +Henry Weber. Edinburgh, 1812, Vol. II., p. 455.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f16'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r16'>16</a>. Washington Irving compares the reading-room of the +British Museum to the scene in “an old Arabian tale, of +a philosopher who was shut up in an enchanted library, +in the bosom of a mountain, that opened only once a +year; where he made the spirits of the place obey his +commands, and bring him books of all kinds of dark +knowledge, so that at the end of the year, when the magic +portal once more swung open on its hinges, he issued forth +so versed in forbidden lore, as to be able to soar above the +heads of the multitude and to control the powers of +Nature.”—<cite>The Art of Bookmaking</cite>, in the <cite>Sketch-Book</cite>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f17'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r17'>17</a>. It is particularly difficult in the case of the <cite>Persian +Tales</cite>, because Le Sage “revised” the manuscripts.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f18'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r18'>18</a>. <cite>Les Mille et une Nuit [sic], Contes Arabes traduits +en François [sic] par M. Galland. A Paris</cite>, 1704–1717.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f19'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r19'>19</a>. <cite>Les Mille et un Jour [sic] Contes Persans traduits en +François [sic] par M. Pétis de la Croix. A Paris</cite>, 1710–1712.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f20'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r20'>20</a>. Cf. App. B, I., Nos. 7 and 15 (<i>b</i>), pp. 270 and 273.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f21'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r21'>21</a>. Cf. <cite>Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen und +Literaturen</cite>, Vol. CXI. (n. s., XI.), pp. 106–121, “Studien +zu M. G. Lewis’s Roman ‘Ambrosio, or the Monk,’” by +Otto Ritter; pp. 316–323, “Die eigentliche Quelle von +Lewis’s ‘Monk,’” by Georg Herzfeld; Vol. CXIII., +pp. 56–65, “Die angebliche Quelle von M. G. Lewis’s +‘Monk,’” by Otto Ritter; Vol. CXIV., p. 167, under +<cite>Kleine Mitteilungen</cite>, “Zu Archiv CXIII., 63 (Lewis’s +‘Monk’),” by Otto Ritter.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f22'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r22'>22</a>. Cf. App. A, pp. 259–262.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f23'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r23'>23</a>. The Persian words also are given in the 1708 edition +(App. B, I., No. 7, p. 270).</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f24'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r24'>24</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 20, p. 274. Cf. Horace Walpole’s +coinage of the word “serendipity,” meaning “accidental +sagacity”; <cite>Letters of Horace Walpole</cite>, edited by Mrs. +Paget Toynbee in sixteen volumes. Oxford MCMIII., +Vol. III., pp. 203, 204; Letter No. 382, to Horace Mann, +January 28, 1754.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f25'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r25'>25</a>. Cf. App. B, II., No. 3, p. 295.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f26'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r26'>26</a>. <cite>Die Reise der Söhne Giaffers aus dem Italienischen +des Christoforo Armeno übersetzt durch Johann Wetzel</cite>, +1583, herausgegeben v. H. Fischer und J. Bolte, Tübingen, +1895, p. 178.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f27'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r27'>27</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 22, p. 275.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f28'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r28'>28</a>. Cf. <cite>Orlando Furioso</cite>, Canto XXXIV., Astolfo’s +journey to the moon, where wits are kept.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f29'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r29'>29</a>. Cf. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 289.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f30'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r30'>30</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 23, pp. 275, 276.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f31'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r31'>31</a>. One incident recalls Dr. Edward Everett Hale’s +entertaining story, <cite>My Double and How He Undid Me</cite>: +A good fairy created for King Giamschid a double, “a +phantom, who ate with a very good appetite and who +pronounced at intervals, in the tone and voice of the +true Giamschid, a few sentences very much to the purpose.” +(H. Weber’s <cite>Tales of the East</cite>, 1812, Vol. III., +p. 671.) The similarity is a mere coincidence. Dr. Hale +informs me that he was unacquainted with this story +when he wrote <cite>My Double</cite>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f32'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r32'>32</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 81, p. 290.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f33'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r33'>33</a>. The writer of a recent review, in the <cite>New York Evening +Post</cite>, of Vol. IV., Lane’s <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, Bohn edition, +just issued, interprets the “African” magician of <cite>Aladdin</cite> +as the “Tunisian” magician, and continues: “That +Tunis was especially famous for magic does not seem to +be elsewhere recorded. Such was, and is, the reputation +rather of Morocco and of Africa farther west in general, +and in this same tale the magician is also called a +Maghribi, strictly a Moroccan.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f34'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r34'>34</a>. Cf. App. A, p. 263.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f35'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r35'>35</a>. Cf. opening scenes of <cite>Vathek</cite>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f36'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r36'>36</a>. Weber, <i>op. cit.</i>, Vol. II., p. 290.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f37'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r37'>37</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 17, p. 274.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f38'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r38'>38</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 21, pp. 274, 275.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f39'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r39'>39</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 19, p. 274.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f40'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r40'>40</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 27, p. 277.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f41'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r41'>41</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 5 (<i>b</i>), p. 270.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f42'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r42'>42</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 48, p. 283. In the above-mentioned +title, the original spelling is preserved.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f43'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r43'>43</a>. These two are included in a frame-tale called +<cite>The Lady’s Drawing-room</cite> (1744). App. B, I., No. 35, +p. 278.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f44'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r44'>44</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 76, p. 289.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f45'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r45'>45</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 89, (<i>a</i>), p. 292.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f46'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r46'>46</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 59, p. 286.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f47'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r47'>47</a>. Cf. Voltaire’s <cite>Travels of Scarmentado</cite>, p. 210, <i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f48'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r48'>48</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 75, p. 289.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f49'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r49'>49</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 93, pp. 292, 293.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f50'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r50'>50</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 33, p. 278.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f51'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r51'>51</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 69, p. 288, Chilcot, Harriet: <cite>Ormar +and Zabria</cite>; and No. 64 (<i>a</i>), p. 287, Irwin, Eyles: <cite>Bedukah</cite> +and <cite>Eastern Eclogues</cite>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f52'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r52'>52</a>. “Written originally for the entertainment of the Ladies +of Tauris and now translated,” a phrase omitted +from later editions. Cf. Dr. Johnson, <cite>Life of Collins</cite> +(Chalmers, <cite>English Poets</cite>. London, 1810, Vol. XIII., +p. 193): “In his last illness ... he spoke with disapprobation +of his Oriental Eclogues, as not sufficiently +expressive of Asiatic manners, and called them his Irish +Eclogues.” Cf. App. B, I., No. 34, p. 278.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f53'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r53'>53</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 61, p. 286.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f54'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r54'>54</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 67, p. 287.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f55'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r55'>55</a>. The only other poems that may be classed as imaginative +oriental tales—and that only by stretching a +point—are <cite>The Indian Philosopher</cite>, by Isaac Watts, +and the fragment of an eclogue called <cite>An Indian Ode</cite>, +by William King. Cf. Chalmers’s <cite>English Poets</cite>. London, +1810, Vol. XIII., p. 63, and Vol. IX., p. 302.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f56'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r56'>56</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 70, p. 288.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f57'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r57'>57</a>. Cf. Sophocles, <cite>Trachiniæ</cite> (Death of Hercules).</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f58'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r58'>58</a>. Cf. <cite>Iliad</cite>, XXII (Death of Hector).</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f59'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r59'>59</a>. In English, 1786; in French, 1787. It had been +written between January, 1782, and January, 1783, in +French, by Beckford. Cf. App. B, I., No. 73 (<i>a</i>), p. 288; +and <cite>Vathek</cite>, edited by Richard Garnett. London, 1893, +Introduction.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f60'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r60'>60</a>. Garnett, <i>op. cit.</i>, Introduction, p. xxvii.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f61'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r61'>61</a>. Cf. Lady Burton’s version of Sir Richard Burton’s +<cite>Arabian Nights</cite>, edited by J. H. McCarthy (London, +1886), n., p. 11, which, following the <cite>Koran</cite> and the +<cite>Talmud</cite>, calls Iblis (Eblis) a rebellious angel who refused +to worship Adam, caused Adam and Eve to lose Paradise, +and still betrays mankind.</p> + +<p class='c022'>Cf. E. W. Lane, <cite>Arabian Society in the Middle Ages, +Studies in the Arabian Nights</cite>, edited by S. Lane-Poole, +London, 1883, who, on p. 32, says, “Iblees is represented +as saying, ‘Thou hast created <i>me</i> of <i>fire</i> and hast created +<i>him</i> [Adam] of <i>earth</i>.’ Kur. VII. and XXXVIII., 77.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f62'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r62'>62</a>. Cf. App. A., pp. 258, 259.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f63'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r63'>63</a>. Cf. pp. 251, 252, <i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f64'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r64'>64</a>. Cf. also the two voices overheard by Nouronihar with +<cite>The Ancient Mariner</cite> and Tennyson, <cite>The Two Voices</cite>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f65'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r65'>65</a>. Beckford also wrote a short oriental tale, <cite>Al Raoui</cite>, +nominally “translated from the Arabic” but probably +composed by Beckford, 1783, and first printed 1799. +It is a fanciful and rather pleasing romantic tale and +may be found in Cyrus Redding, <cite>Memoirs of William +Beckford</cite>. London, 1859, Vol. I., pp. 213–226.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f66'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r66'>66</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 93, pp. 292, 293.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f67'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r67'>67</a>. Based on a story in Lyttelton’s <cite>Persian Letters</cite>. Cf. +pp. 180, n. 1, and 185, <i>post</i>. Goldsmith may have drawn +directly from Lyttelton, or from this more recent (1750?) +version. Cf. also App. B, I., No. 41, p. 281.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f68'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r68'>68</a>. Marmontel, J. F., <cite>Memoirs</cite> (Boston, 1878). Introductory +essay by W. D. Howells, p. 25.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f69'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r69'>69</a>. Preface to <cite>Contes Moraux</cite> in <cite>Œuvres</cite>, Paris, 1818, +Vol. III., p. xiv.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f70'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r70'>70</a>. <cite>Rambler</cite>, No. 65.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f71'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r71'>71</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 54 (<i>c</i>), p. 285.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f72'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r72'>72</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 54 (<i>b</i>), pp. 284, 285.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f73'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r73'>73</a>. Hugh Kelly’s <cite>The Romance of an Hour, an afterpiece +in two acts</cite>, was performed first, 1774. Two editions +were printed. The plot was borrowed from Marmontel’s +tale, <cite><span lang="fr">L’Amitié à l’Epreuve</span></cite>. [Gordon Goodwin in <cite>Dictionary +of National Biography</cite>, article “Hugh Kelly”.]</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f74'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r74'>74</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 18, p. 274.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f75'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r75'>75</a>. <cite>Spence’s Anecdotes, Observations, and Characters of +Books and Men, a Selection</cite>, edited by John Underhill. +London [n. d.], p. 168.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f76'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r76'>76</a>. <span lang="fr"><cite>La littérature française au moyen âge.</cite> Paris, 1905, +p. 242.</span></p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f77'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r77'>77</a>. <span lang="de"><cite>Voltaire’s Roman Zadig ou la Destinée, Eine Quellen-forschung +...</cite> von Wilhelm Seele ... Leipzig, +Reudnitz, 1891.</span> Cf. also G. A. Aitken’s Introduction +to <cite>Parnell’s Poems</cite>, Aldine Edition. London, 1894, and +Rev. John Mitford’s <cite>Life of Parnell</cite> (p. 61 n.), prefixed +to <cite>The Poetical Works of Thomas Parnell</cite>. London, +1852.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f78'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r78'>78</a>. <cite>Guardian</cite>, No. 162.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f79'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r79'>79</a>. <cite>Ibid.</cite>, No. 148, cf. pp. 27, 28, <i>ante</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f80'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r80'>80</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 535.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f81'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r81'>81</a>. <cite>Freeholder</cite>, No. 17.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f82'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r82'>82</a>. <cite>Guardian</cite>, No. 99. Cf. <cite>The Persian Moonshee</cite>, Pt. II., +Story 5, translated by Francis Gladwin, Calcutta and +London, 1801, p. 3.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f83'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r83'>83</a>. <cite>Guardian</cite>, No. 167.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f84'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r84'>84</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, Nos. 584, 585.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f85'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r85'>85</a>. Cf. <cite>Romeo and Juliet</cite>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f86'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r86'>86</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 583.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f87'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r87'>87</a>. Chap. III.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f88'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r88'>88</a>. In the satirical group Marana and Brown precede +Addison. The great essayist assisted in directing the +tendency, and was the first notable English writer to +popularize it. Cf. Chap. IV.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f89'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r89'>89</a>. Dedicated to Raphael Courtevile, Esq. In the +passage quoted the author’s spelling is preserved.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f90'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r90'>90</a>. Quoted in the translation of 1759.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f91'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r91'>91</a>. Only in so far as the moralistic tales composed by Addison +and Johnson are concerned. Those referred to, pp. +80–81, <i>ante</i>, as adapted by Addison, possess intrinsic value.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f92'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r92'>92</a>. Leslie Stephen, <cite>Hours in a Library. Second Series.</cite> +London, 1876, p. 211.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f93'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r93'>93</a>. Cf. p. 93, <i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f94'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r94'>94</a>. Cf. p. 83, <i>ante</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f95'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r95'>95</a>. Courtenay, <cite>Verses on the Moral and Literary Character +of Dr. Johnson</cite>, quoted by Boswell; <cite>Life of Johnson</cite>, +edited by G. B. Hill. Oxford, 1887, Vol. I., p. 223.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f96'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r96'>96</a>. The <cite>Story of Nouraddin and Amana, Adventurer</cite>, +No. 72 (1753). This was one of the stories translated +into French and published in <cite>Le Mercure de France</cite>. +The French title was <cite>Les Souhaits Punis, Conte Oriental</cite>; +date, August, 1760.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f97'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r97'>97</a>. <cite>Adventurer</cite>, No. 132.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f98'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r98'>98</a>. <cite>Ibid.</cite>, Nos. 7 and 8.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f99'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r99'>99</a>. Contrast the later oriental tales translated about the +close of this period, <i>e.g.</i> the <cite>Persian Tales of Inatulla</cite>, +which is exceedingly flowery in language. For full title, +cf. App. B, II., No. 36, p. 301.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f100'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r100'>100</a>. <cite>Citizen of the World</cite>, Letter XXXIII. Cf. Chap. IV.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f101'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r101'>101</a>. <cite>Rambler</cite>, No. 65.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f102'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r102'>102</a>. <cite>Ibid.</cite>, No. 38.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f103'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r103'>103</a>. <cite>Adventurer</cite>, Nos. 20, 21, 22.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f104'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r104'>104</a>. <cite>Adventurer</cite>, No. 5.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f105'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r105'>105</a>. <cite>Adventurer</cite>, No. 132.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f106'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r106'>106</a>. <cite>The Fair Circassian, a Tragedy</cite>, by Samuel J. Pratt, +second edition, London, 1781; third edition, same year, +was based on <cite>Almoran and Hamet</cite>. Cf. <cite>Preface</cite>, third +edition. This must not be confused with <cite>The Fair +Circassian, a dramatic performance by a gentleman-commoner +of Oxford [Samuel Croxall].... Taken from the +Song of Solomon</cite>, 1755.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f107'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r107'>107</a>. Cf. p. 123, <i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f108'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r108'>108</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 52, p. 284.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f109'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r109'>109</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 57, p. 285.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f110'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r110'>110</a>. In <cite>Popular Tales</cite>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 92, p. 292.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f111'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r111'>111</a>. <cite>Popular Tales</cite>, by Miss Edgeworth. Philadelphia +and New York, 1849, pp. 67, 68.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f112'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r112'>112</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 53, p. 284.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f113'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r113'>113</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 46, p. 282.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f114'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r114'>114</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 62, p. 286.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f115'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r115'>115</a>. Published anonymously; written by Ellis Cornelia +Knight, “lady companion to the Princess Charlotte of +Wales,” and reaching its fourth edition by 1800. Cf. +App. B, I., No. 79, p. 290. On <cite>Rasselas</cite>, cf. Chap. III., +<i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f116'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r116'>116</a>. <cite>Introduction to Dinarbas.</cite></p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f117'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r117'>117</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 10, p. 271.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f118'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r118'>118</a>. Bound in with <cite>The History of Abdalla and Zoraide, +or Filial and Paternal Love</cite>. London, 1750. Cf. p. 71, +<i>ante</i>, and App. B, I., No. 41, p. 281.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f119'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r119'>119</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 66, p. 287.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f120'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r120'>120</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 63 (a), p. 286.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f121'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r121'>121</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 86, p. 291, and <cite>Amorassan</cite>, p. +71, <i>ante</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f122'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r122'>122</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 90, p. 292.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f123'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r123'>123</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 74, p. 289.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f124'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r124'>124</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 87, p. 291.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f125'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r125'>125</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 58 (<i>b</i>), pp. 285, 286.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f126'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r126'>126</a>. Cf. p. 204 <i>et seq.</i>, <i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f127'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r127'>127</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 77, p. 289.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f128'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r128'>128</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 78, p. 290.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f129'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r129'>129</a>. “Yet for the real student, these secondary writers +[<i>e.g.</i> Marmontel] ... have, as they had for Sainte-Beuve, +a peculiar interest. We see the movement, the +drift, the line, in them more clearly than in their betters, +precisely because it is less mingled with and distorted by +any intense personal idiosyncrasy. They are not distractingly +great nor distracted by their own greatness; +they are clear if limited, comprehensible from beginning +to end. The man of genius, being never merely, is never +quite, of his time, the man of talent is.” Professor Saintsbury’s +<cite>Introduction</cite> to Marmontel’s <cite>Moral Tales....</cite> +London, 1895, p. xiv.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f130'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r130'>130</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 159.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f131'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r131'>131</a>. One is reminded also of the Anglo-Saxon story of the +sparrow flying through the lighted hall from darkness to +darkness again, as a type of human life; and of the inscription +on the Taj Mahal: “This world is only a bridge; +therefore cross over it, but build not upon it. The +future is veiled in darkness, and one short hour alone is +given thee. Turn every moment into prayer if thou +wouldst attain unto Heaven.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f132'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r132'>132</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 289.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f133'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r133'>133</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 289; attributed by Addison to the +travels of Sir John Chardin.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f134'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r134'>134</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 94.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f135'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r135'>135</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 578.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f136'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r136'>136</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 191.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f137'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r137'>137</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 604.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f138'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r138'>138</a>. <cite>Guardian</cite>, No. 61 (Pope). The story is probably +<cite>The Life of Hai Ebn Yokdhan</cite>, cf. p. 126 <i>et seq.</i>, <i>post</i>. +Pope also quotes the tale of the Traveler and the Adder, +which he calls “one of the Persian fables of Pilpay.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f139'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r139'>139</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 343. At the opening of this essay +Addison makes Will Honeycomb quote Sir Paul Rycaut’s +account of Mahometan beliefs, including transmigration. +The story of Pug’s adventures resembles that of the +transmigrations of Fum-Hoam (<cite>Chinese Tales</cite>, cf. Chap. +I., <i>ante</i>). The idea of metempsychosis was a favourite +one in the early eighteenth century, witness Fielding’s +<cite>Journey from this World to the Next</cite>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f140'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r140'>140</a>. p. 89.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f141'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r141'>141</a>. <cite>Idler</cite>, No. 99.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f142'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r142'>142</a>. <cite>Life of Johnson</cite>, edited by G. B. Hill. Oxford, 1887, +Vol. I., p. 215.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f143'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r143'>143</a>. <cite>Rambler</cite>, No. 190.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f144'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r144'>144</a>. <cite>Rambler</cite>, Nos. 204, 205.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f145'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r145'>145</a>. In a <cite>Voyage to Abyssinia</cite>, by Lobo, a Portuguese +Jesuit, which Johnson translated, 1735, from a French +version, mention is made, Chap. X., of Sultan Segued, +Emperor of Abyssinia, “the much-talked-of lake of +Dambia,” and the bridge built across the Nile by Sultan +Segued. Neither in the edition of <cite>Rasselas</cite> by G. B. +Hill nor in that by James Macaulay is the resemblance +between <cite>Seged</cite> and <cite>Rasselas</cite> noted.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f146'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r146'>146</a>. <cite>Idler</cite>, No. 75.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f147'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r147'>147</a>. <cite>Idler</cite>, No. 101.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f148'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r148'>148</a>. <cite>Adventurer</cite>, No. 114.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f149'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r149'>149</a>. Published in <cite>Essays by Dr. Goldsmith</cite>, 1765 (N.B., +the Preface says: “The following essays have already +appeared at different times and in different publications”); +to be found in <cite>The Bee and other Essays by +Oliver Goldsmith....</cite> London and Philadelphia, 1893, +p. 187.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f150'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r150'>150</a>. <cite>The Bonze, or Chinese Anchorite, an Oriental Epic +Novel. Translated from the Mandarine language of</cite> +<cite>Hoamchi-vam, a Tartarian Proselite, by Mons. D’Alenzon, +Dedicated to Lord Kilwarling Son and Heir of the Earl of +Hillsborough, Secretary of State for the Northern Colonies. +With Adventurous wing exploring new found Worlds, +the Orient Muse unfettered with Rhyme who Sings of +Heaven, of Earth, and Wondrous mutations; Strives to +Mingle instruction with delight, in hope to gain the smile +of Approbation.</cite> Two vols. London, 1769.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f151'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r151'>151</a>. The original spelling is preserved in the quotations +given from this work. Cf. App. B, I., No. 8, p. 270.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f152'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r152'>152</a>. p. 57, edition of 1708.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f153'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r153'>153</a>. pp. 114–139, same edition.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f154'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r154'>154</a>. Cf. the dancing dervishes.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f155'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r155'>155</a>. Dr. Edward Pococke (1604–1691) wrote a preface to +a Latin translation of <cite>Hai Ebn Yockdhan</cite>, published, +Oxford, 1671, by his son Edward Pococke (1648–1727).</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f156'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r156'>156</a>. <cite>Zadig, or the Book of Fate, an Oriental History translated +from the French original of Mr. Voltaire.</cite> London ... +1749. Several other editions appeared later in the +century, and one chapter, <cite>The Hermit</cite>, separately, <i>e.g.</i> +1779. Cf. App. B, I., No. 39 (<i>a</i>), p. 279; and No. 39 +(<i>j</i>), pp. 280, 281.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f157'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r157'>157</a>. Cf. pp. 77–79, <i>ante</i>. Parnell’s poem was one of the +sources, not the only source, of Voltaire’s chapter.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f158'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r158'>158</a>. In French, 1747, 1748; in English, 1749.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f159'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r159'>159</a>. Cf. Chap. IV., p. 155 <i>et seq.</i>, <i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f160'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r160'>160</a>. Cf. Lessing: <cite>Nathan der Weise</cite> (apologue of the +three rings).</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f161'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r161'>161</a>. Cf. W. Seele, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 77, n. 4, <i>ante</i>, in which, on +p. 64, reference is made to the high estimation by Gaston +Paris, of <cite>Zadig</cite> as the most beautiful of Voltaire’s romances, +and of the “Hermit” as the best chapter in <cite>Zadig</cite>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f162'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r162'>162</a>. Cf. “On a Passage in Homer” under “Ancients and +Moderns” in Voltaire’s <cite>Philosophical Dictionary</cite>, tr. by +W. F. Fleming, Vol. I., Paris, London, New York, +Chicago, 1901.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f163'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r163'>163</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 39 (<i>b</i>), p. 279.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f164'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r164'>164</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 39 (<i>f</i>), p. 280.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f165'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r165'>165</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 40, p. 281.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f166'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r166'>166</a>. First French edition, <cite>Candide ou l’optimisme</cite>, ... +1759; first English edition, same year.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f167'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r167'>167</a>. <cite>Rasselas</cite> was written soon after January 23, 1759, +and published in March or April of that year. Johnson +was one of the first to observe the similarity between +the two books. “I have heard Johnson say, that if they +had not been published so closely one after the other +that there was not time for imitation, it would have +been in vain to deny that the scheme of that which +came latest was taken from the other.” Boswell, <cite>Life +of Johnson</cite>, edited by G. B. Hill, Vol. I., p. 342. Hill’s +note, same page: “It should seem that <cite>Candide</cite> was +published in the latter half of February, 1759 ... +<cite>Rasselas</cite> was written before March 23; how much earlier +cannot be known.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f168'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r168'>168</a>. Cf. G. B. Hill’s note, p. 165 of his edition of <cite>Rasselas</cite>, +Oxford, 1887: “Johnson is content with giving the +artist a ducking. Voltaire would have crippled him for +life at the very least; most likely would have killed him +on the spot.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f169'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r169'>169</a>. For a sketch of this scene, cf. an essay on <cite>Indifferentism</cite>, +by Bliss Perry in the <cite>Atlantic Monthly</cite>, Vol. +XCII., p. 329 <i>et seq.</i></p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f170'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r170'>170</a>. Boswell’s <cite>Life of Johnson</cite>, edited by G. B. Hill ... +Oxford, 1887, Vol. IV., p. 31. Cf. on “the Saxon <i>k</i>,” +Thomas R. Lounsbury, <cite>Confessions of a Spelling Reformer, +Atlantic Monthly</cite>, May, 1907 (Vol. XCIX.), +p. 627: “The Saxon <i>k</i> was the lexicographer’s personal +contribution to the original English alphabet.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f171'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r171'>171</a>. Cf. P. Martino, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 284.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f172'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r172'>172</a>. Cf. T. Brown, <cite>Amusements</cite>, p. 163, <i>post</i>. P. Martino, +<i>op. cit.</i> (p. 288, n. 3), gives 1705 as the date of the +first edition of <cite>Dufresny</cite>. But D. Jouaust, in his <span lang="fr"><cite>Avertissement +to Entretiens ou Amusements sérieux et comiques +par Rivière-Dufresny</cite>, Paris, 1869,</span> affirms that this +work, whence <span lang="fr">“Montesquieu a pris l’idée de son immortelle +satire,” appeared “pour la première fois en +1699,” and was reprinted. Pétit de Julleville: <cite>Histoire +de la langue et de la littérature française des origines à +1900</cite>, Paris, 1898, Tome V., ...</span> p. 596, also gives 1699 +as the date of Dufresny’s work.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f173'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r173'>173</a>. Cf. P. Martino, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 299.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f174'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r174'>174</a>. Cf. <cite>The Story of Tquassaouw</cite>, p. 173, <i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f175'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r175'>175</a>. The “Characters” (character-sketches) of the +seventeenth century, both in France and in England, +undoubtedly contributed to the pseudo-letters, and <i>vice +versa</i>. Cf. <i>e.g.</i> pp. 183 and 239, n. 1, <i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f176'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r176'>176</a>. This English version has been ascribed to Sir Roger +Manley by his daughter, Mrs. Manley; but it is now +“practically certain ... that the first volume of the +<cite>Letters</cite> was composed, not by Manley, but by Marana; +and it is at least very probable that the Italian was the +author of the remainder of the work.” J. M. Rigg in +the <cite>Dictionary of National Biography</cite>, article “Robert +Midgley” (1653–1723). For title of this English version, +cf. App. B, I., No. 1, p. 267.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f177'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r177'>177</a>. <cite>Letter</cite> VIII. <cite>The Eight Volumes of Letters Writ by +a Turkish Spy ... translated ... into English....</cite> +London ... 1748, Vol. I. Quotations are from this +edition, and are given in the original spelling, etc.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f178'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r178'>178</a>. J. M. Rigg, in the <cite>Dictionary of National Biography</cite>, +article on “Robert Midgley” (1653–1723). The date, +1723, for Montesquieu’s <cite>Lettres Persanes</cite> should read 1721. +Mr. Rigg cites several volumes of <cite>Notes and Queries</cite>; but +does not give <cite>Notes and Queries</cite>, 4th Series, VIII., November, +1871, p. 415, in which Arthur Bateman writes: +“Who but remembers Elia’s account of the first discovery +of roast pig?... In the <cite>Turkish Spy</cite> (Vol. IV., +book 1, letter 5) I read as follows: ‘The historians say +that the first inhabitants of the earth, for above two +thousand years, lived altogether on the vegetable products, +of which they offered the first fruits to God—it +being esteemed an inexpiable wickedness to shed the +blood of any animal, though it were in sacrifice, much +more to eat of their flesh. To this end they relate the +first slaughter of a bull to have been made at Athens ... +and the bull being flea’d [<i>sic</i>], and fire laid on the +altar, they all assisted at the new sacrifice.... In +process of time a certain priest, in the midst of his +bloody sacrifice, taking up a piece of the broiled flesh +which had fallen from the altar on the ground, and +burning his fingers therewith, suddenly clapped them to +his mouth to mitigate the pain. But when he had once +tasted the sweetness of the fat, he not only longed for +more of it, but gave a piece to his assistant, and he to +others, who, all pleased with the new found dainties, +fell to eating of flesh greedily; and hence this species +of gluttony was taught to other mortals.’”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f179'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r179'>179</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 2, pp. 267, 268.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f180'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r180'>180</a>. Quotations, in which the original spelling and +capitalization are preserved, are taken from <cite>The Third +Volume of the Works of Mr. Thomas Brown</cite> ... <cite>The +Third Edition</cite> ... <cite>London</cite> ... 1715 (?).</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f181'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r181'>181</a>. Cf. p. 166, note 1, <i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f182'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r182'>182</a>. The above quotation, in which the original spelling, +etc., are preserved, is from <span lang="fr"><cite>Entretiens ou Amusements +sérieux et comiques par Rivière-Dufresny</cite>, D. Jouaust, +Paris, 1869.</span></p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f183'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r183'>183</a>. Frequent coarseness of expression precludes quotation +of the entire passage.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f184'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r184'>184</a>. George Saintsbury, <cite>A Short History of English Literature</cite>. +New York, London, 1905, p. 526: “The great +essayist who immediately followed him [<i>i.e.</i> Brown], +owed more to him than might be imagined, and in not +a little of his work, especially in his <cite>Amusements, Serious +and Comical</cite>, which attempt an early ‘London from +day to day,’ there is a vividness of manners which +anticipates the best of the later novelists.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f185'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r185'>185</a>. No. 557.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f186'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r186'>186</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 545.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f187'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r187'>187</a>. <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 343.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f188'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r188'>188</a>. <cite>Ibid</cite>, No. 511.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f189'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r189'>189</a>. <cite>Mirror</cite>, No. 8.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f190'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r190'>190</a>. p. 157, <i>ante</i>; and p. 230, <i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f191'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r191'>191</a>. Cf. L. Dangeau, <cite>Montesquieu, Bibliographie de ses +œuvres</cite>. Paris, 1874; A. Sorel, <cite>Montesquieu</cite> (In the +Series, Great French Writers), tr. by G. Masson ... +London, 1887, p. 46. L. Vian, <cite>Histoire de Montesquieu....</cite> +Paris, 1879, Chap. V.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f192'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r192'>192</a>. Reprinted in <cite>Persian Letters, by M. de Montesquieu, +translated from the French, in two volumes....</cite> The +Sixth Edition ... Edinburgh, 1773. The following +quotations are from this edition.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f193'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r193'>193</a>. Cf. John Gay’s poem, <cite>The Quidnunkis</cite>, in Chalmers, +<cite>English Poets</cite>, London, 1810, Vol. X., p. 503.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f194'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r194'>194</a>. <cite>Letters</cite> XI.–XIV.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f195'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r195'>195</a>. <cite>Letter</cite> LXVII.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f196'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r196'>196</a>. <cite>Letter</cite> CXLII.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f197'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r197'>197</a>. <cite>Letter</cite> CXLI.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f198'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r198'>198</a>. <cite>Letter</cite> CXLIII.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f199'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r199'>199</a>. P. IV. of <cite>Persian Letters</cite> cited, p. 175 n., <i>ante</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f200'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r200'>200</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 28, p. 277.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f201'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r201'>201</a>. <cite>Abdalla and Zoraide, or Filial and Paternal Love</cite>, +carries the same story to this point and ends with Abdalla’s +expression of gratitude to Selim. Cf. p. 72, <i>ante</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f202'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r202'>202</a>. <cite>Letter</cite> XXII. Quotations are from the edition of 1774.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f203'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r203'>203</a>. <cite>Letter</cite> V. Cf. P. Martino, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 289, where +reference is made to a similar passage in Dufresny’s +<cite>Amusements</cite>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f204'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r204'>204</a>. <cite>Letter</cite> LXVII. The words underlined are found in +the parallel passage in Goldsmith. Other similarities +are noticeable.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f205'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r205'>205</a>. Cf. pp. 71 and 180, n. 1, <i>ante</i>; and 197, <i>post</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f206'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r206'>206</a>. <cite>Letter</cite> VI.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f207'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r207'>207</a>. <cite>Letter</cite> XXXI.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f208'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r208'>208</a>. Cf. in regard to Lyttelton (<i>a</i>) <cite>The Persian strip’d +of his disguise ...</cite> Dublin, 1735, a small pamphlet of +twenty-three pages attacking Lyttelton’s “late libel +intitled <cite>Letters from a Persian in England to his friend +in Ispahan</cite>.”</p> + +<p class='c022'>(<i>b</i>) The <cite>Persian Letters continued</cite>, London, 1736, third +edition, “erroneously ascribed to Lord Lyttelton.” +(<cite>Dictionary of National Biography</cite>.)</p> + +<p class='c022'>(<i>c</i>) Edward Moore’s poem in defense of Lord Lyttelton, +<cite>The Trial of Selim the Persian for divers high crimes +and misdemeanours</cite>. (Chalmers: <cite>English Poets</cite>, London, +1810, Vol. XIV., p. 202.)</p> + +<p class='c022'>(<i>d</i>) <cite>The Court Secret a Melancholy Truth, now first +translated from the original Arabic by an Adept in the +Oriental Tongues</cite>, London, 1742, an anonymous work +ascribed to Lord Lyttelton, but not included in the third +edition of his works.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f209'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r209'>209</a>. <cite>A Letter from Xo-Ho, a Chinese Philosopher at London, +to his friend Lien Chi at Peking</cite>, in <cite>Works</cite> of Horatio +Walpole, Earl of Orford, London, 1798, Vol. I., p. 205.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f210'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r210'>210</a>. Cf. <cite>The Citizen of the World</cite>, edited by A. Dobson, +2 vols., London, 1893. Introduction, pp. xi, xii.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f211'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r211'>211</a>. The earliest use of the phrase “citizen of the world” +in English is believed to be in “England’s Path to +Wealth and Honour,” by Puckle, 1700. In that work +is found “An honest man is a citizen of the world. Gain +equalizeth all places to me.” Cf. Socrates (Plutarch: +<cite>De Exilio</cite>, V.), “I am a citizen not of Athens or of +Greece, but of the world;” E. Edwards: <cite>Words, Facts, +and Phrases</cite>, London, 1882, pp. 117, 118; also Dante, +“My country is the whole world,” <cite>De vulg. eloq.</cite> lib. 1, +cap. 6, quoted by Burckhardt: <cite>Civilization of the Renaissance +...</cite> tr. Middlemore ... 1904, pp. 132, 133, and +note.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f212'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r212'>212</a>. Cf. <cite>Nouvelle Biographie Générale</cite> ... sous la Direction +de M. le Dr. Hoefer ... Paris, Firmin Didot +Frères, Fils et Cie, Editeurs ... 1865, Tome 35; article +on “Monbron,” which mentions <cite>Le Cosmopolite</cite>, 1750, and +adds: “Il y a des exemplaires, avec la date de 1752, qui +portent le titre: ‘Le Citoyen du monde.’” E. H. Coleridge, +<cite>Works of Lord Byron</cite>, London, New York, 1901, Vol. II. +(<cite>Childe Harold</cite>, title-page), gives 1753 instead of 1752; +and T. Moore, <cite>Works of Lord Byron</cite>, London, 1832, +Vol. VIII., gives 1798.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f213'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r213'>213</a>. “L’univers est une espèce de livre, dont on n’a lu +que la première page quand on n’a vu que son pays. +J’en ai feuilleté un assez grand nombre, que j’ai trouvé +également mauvaises. Cet examen ne m’a point été infructueux. +Je haïssais ma patrie. Toutes les impertinences +de peuples divers, parmi lesquels j’ai vécu, +m’ont réconcilié avec elle. Quand je n’aurais tiré +d’autre bénéfice de mes voyages que celui-là, je n’en +regretterais ni les frais ni les fatigues.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f214'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r214'>214</a>. <cite>Hau Kiou Chooan; or the pleasing History, a translation</cite> +[by J. Wilkinson] <i>from the Chinese ...</i> [edited +by T. Percy], London, 1761. Cf. App. B, II., No. 28, +pp. 299, 300.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f215'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r215'>215</a>. Cf. <cite>Letters from a Chinese Official, being an Eastern +View of Western Civilization</cite> by G. Lowes Dickinson. +New York, McClure, Phillips & Co., MCMIII. Mr. +Dickinson’s book is an exceedingly interesting and +timely criticism of Western civilization, and an instance +of the vitality of the pseudo-letter genre, when the +author has something to say. Cf. Mr. William Jennings +Bryan’s reply: <cite>Letters to a Chinese Official, being a +Western View of Eastern Civilization</cite>. New York, +McClure, Phillips & Co., MCMVI.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f216'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r216'>216</a>. Quotations are from <cite>The Citizen of the World, by +Oliver Goldsmith</cite>, edited by Austin Dobson, London, +1893, 2 vols.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f217'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r217'>217</a>. Cf. note on this <cite>Letter</cite> in Dobson’s edition of <cite>The +Citizen of the World</cite> (<i>op. cit.</i>, p. 182, n.); W. Seele: +<cite>Voltaire’s Zadig</cite> (<i>op. cit.</i>, p. 128); and K. Campbell: +<cite>The Seven Sages of Rome ...</cite> Boston, 1907, Introduction, +pp. ci-cviii, which gives seventy-six derivates +and analogues of the story known as <cite>Vidua</cite>, of which +<cite>The Matron of Ephesus</cite> is the most famous version.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f218'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r218'>218</a>. Possibly suggested by Addison’s tale, <cite>Spectator</cite>, +No. 512.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f219'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r219'>219</a>. Drawn from “the fables of Locman the Indian +moralist.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f220'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r220'>220</a>. Cf. Sir William Chambers’s <cite>Dissertation on Oriental +Gardening</cite> ... London, 1772; and Dobson’s edition +(1893) of <cite>The Citizen of the World</cite>, Vol. I., n. to p. 52, l. 4, +in which the editor refers to <cite>An Heroic Epistle</cite> by William +Mason, ridiculing Chambers’s <cite>Dissertation</cite>. Cf. also the +satire in verse, <cite>Kien Long, a Chinese Imperial eclogue +translated from a curious Oriental manuscript and inscribed +to the author of An Heroic Epistle to Sir William +Chambers</cite>, London, 1775.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f221'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r221'>221</a>. Cf. pp. 71; 180 n. 1; 185; and 191, <i>ante</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f222'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r222'>222</a>. “Goldsmith remembered a quotation from Voltaire +made by himself in <cite>The Monthly Review</cite> for August, +1757: ‘The success of the <cite>Persian Letters</cite> arose from +the delicacy of their satire. That satire which, in the +mouth of an Asiatic, is poignant, would lose all its force +when coming from an European.’” Editor’s <cite>Prefatory +Note</cite> to <cite>The Citizen of the World</cite> in Vol. II., p. 86, <cite>Works +of Oliver Goldsmith</cite>, edited by Peter Cunningham, F.S.A., +in four volumes, New York ... 1881.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f223'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r223'>223</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 31, p. 277.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f224'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r224'>224</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 38, p. 278.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f225'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r225'>225</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 5, pp. 269, 270.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f226'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r226'>226</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 25, p. 276.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f227'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r227'>227</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 37, p. 278.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f228'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r228'>228</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 58 (<i>a</i>), p. 285.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f229'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r229'>229</a>. Cf. <cite>The Works of Lord Byron ...</cite> edited ... by +E. H. Coleridge, London, New York, 1899, <cite>Poetry</cite>, +Vol. II., p. 40, n.†.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f230'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r230'>230</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 5 (<i>c</i>), p. 270.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f231'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r231'>231</a>. In <cite>Novels and Miscellaneous Works of Daniel Defoe</cite>, +Oxford, London, 1840, Vol. XII., pp. 101–135 and 154–181.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f232'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r232'>232</a>. Cf. App. A, pp. 257, 258, <i>post</i>. Swift’s descriptive +satirical poem, <cite>The Virtues of Sid Hamet the Magician’s +Rod</cite>, likewise uses oriental disguise.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f233'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r233'>233</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 54 (a), p. 284. It became popular +also in dramatic form, <cite>The Sultan or a Peep into the +Seraglio, a Farce in two Acts</cite>, by Isaac Bickerstaffe, first +acted 1775; printed, 1784, 1786, 1787. Another of +Marmontel’s works,—not a tale, but a <i>comédie-ballet</i>,—called +<cite>Zemire et Azor</cite>, formed the basis of a popular comic +opera, <cite>Selima and Azor a Persian Tale</cite>, with music by +Thomas Linley, Sr., London [1776]. It is a version of +the story of <cite>Beauty and the Beast</cite>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f234'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r234'>234</a>. Quoted in <cite>Moral Tales by M. Marmontel. Translated +from the French</cite> ... New York, 1813, Vol. I.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f235'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r235'>235</a>. Quotations that follow are from <cite>Marmontel’s Moral +Tales Selected</cite> ... by George Saintsbury, London, 1895.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f236'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r236'>236</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 39, pp. 279, 281.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f237'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r237'>237</a>. R. Cambridge’s poem, <cite>The Fakeer, a Tale</cite>, first published +in 1756, is admittedly based on Voltaire. Chambers, +<cite>English Poets</cite>, London, 1810, Vol. XVIII., p. 288.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f238'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r238'>238</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 36, p. 278.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f239'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r239'>239</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 32, pp. 277, 278.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f240'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r240'>240</a>. Translated also as <cite>May-Flower, a Circassian Tale</cite>, +second edition, Salisbury ... London, 1796. Cf. App. B, +I., No. 51, pp. 283, 284.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f241'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r241'>241</a>. Quoted in <cite>The Cabinet of Irish Literature ...</cite> by +Charles A. Read.... London, 1880, Vol. I., p. 94, n. 2.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f242'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r242'>242</a>. <cite>The Ram</cite>, in <cite>Select Tales</cite>.... Translated from the +French ... London, 1760.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f243'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r243'>243</a>. “Embrouiller.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f244'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r244'>244</a>. <cite>The Four Facardins</cite>, in <cite>Select Tales</cite> ... translated +from the French, London, 1760. Cf. also M. G. Lewis: +<cite>Romantic Tales</cite>, London, 1808.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f245'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r245'>245</a>. Cf. App. B, I., No. 49 (<i>b</i>), p. 283.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f246'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r246'>246</a>. <cite>Connoisseur</cite>, No. 135. Chalmers, <cite>English Poets</cite>, +London, 1810, Vol. XV., p. 81.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f247'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r247'>247</a>. Warton, in <cite>Adventurer</cite>, No. 139. Cf. also <cite>World</cite>, +Nos. 26, 38, 59, 65, 205; <cite>Rambler</cite>, 82; <cite>Adventurer</cite>, 109; +<cite>Connoisseur</cite>, 65, 73; <cite>Mirror</cite>, 17; <cite>Lounger</cite>, 79; and Sir +William Chambers’s <cite>Designs of Chinese Buildings, etc.</cite>, +London, 1757.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f248'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r248'>248</a>. Cf. (<i>a</i>) <cite>The Blue Fairy Book ... edited with an Introduction +by Andrew Lang ...</cite> [Large Paper], London, 1889. +Introduction: “Though published in 1697, Perrault’s +Contes de ma Mère l’Oye do not seem to have been +Englished till 1729. A version is advertised in a newspaper +of that year, but no copy exists in the British +Museum.”</p> + +<p class='c022'>(<i>b</i>) <cite>English Fairy Tales, collected by Joseph Jacobs ...</cite> +third edition ... New York, 1898, p. 229. <cite>Notes.</cite> “In +the middle of the last century the genius of Charles +Perrault captivated English and Scotch children.... +Cinderella and Puss-in-Boots ... ousted Childe Rowland, +and Mr. Fox and Catskin. The superior elegance +and clearness of the French tales replaced the rude +vigour of the English ones. What Perrault began, the +Grimms completed. Tom Tit Tot gave way to Rumpelstilzchen.... +The English Fairy Tale became a +<i>mélange confus</i> of Perrault and the Grimms.”</p> + +<p class='c022'>(<i>c</i>) The Countess D’Aulnoy’s <cite>Tales of the Fairies</cite> was +translated in 1707.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f249'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r249'>249</a>. Cf. pp. 76, n. 2; 96, n. 1; and 204, n. 2, <i>ante</i>. Dramas +based more or less on oriental history appeared from +time to time, <i>e.g.</i> Hughes’s <cite>Siege of Damascus</cite> (1720); +D. Mallet’s <cite>Mustapha</cite> (1739); Johnson’s <cite>Irene</cite> (1749); +Hodson’s <cite>Zoraida</cite> (1780); A. Dow’s <cite>Zingis, a Tragedy</cite>, +new edition (1773); and translations of Voltaire’s <cite>Mahomet</cite>, +<cite>Zara</cite>, and <cite>Orphan of China</cite>. Cf. Dr. Hoops, <cite>Present +Problems</cite> (App. B, II., No. 33, p. 300).</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f250'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r250'>250</a>. <cite>Works of A. Pope ...</cite> edited ... by ... Rev. W. +L. Bowles, London, 1806, Vol. VIII., pp. 110, 112.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f251'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r251'>251</a>. <cite>Citizen of the World ...</cite> edited by A. Dobson ... +London, 1893, p. 121, note to p. 141, l. 25: “Mr. Tibs +(is) a different person, by the way, from the inimitable +little Beau.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f252'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r252'>252</a>. Shenstone’s <cite>Poems</cite>, in Chalmers, <cite>English Poets ...</cite> +London, 1810, Vol. XIII., p. 272.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f253'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r253'>253</a>. Dr. Johnson (<cite>Rambler</cite>, No. 122) commends Knolles’s +<cite>History of the Turks</cite>, but declares the subject foreign +and uninteresting, a remote and barbarous nation “of +which none desire to be informed.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f254'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r254'>254</a>. <cite>Persia, Past and Present ...</cite> by A. V. W. Jackson ... +New York, 1906, p. 226. Cf. also <cite>The Power of Bible +Poetry</cite>, by J. H. Gardiner in <cite>Atlantic Monthly</cite>, September, +1906 (Vol. XCVIII., pp. 384–394).</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f255'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r255'>255</a>. Cf. <cite>The Literary Remains of John Evelyn ...</cite> edited ... +by William Upcott ... second edition ... London, 1834. +On p. xiii Evelyn’s <cite>Tyrannus or the Mode</cite> (1661) is mentioned +as a “very curious and rare pamphlet to be found ... +in the second volume of the Evelyn papers,” a pamphlet +in which the author argues for the superiority of the +Persian fashion of dress over the English. Charles II. +adopted the costume for a short while, probably as a +result of Evelyn’s reasoning. On pp. 141–167 is printed +Evelyn’s <cite>A Character of England as it was lately presented +in a letter to a nobleman of France</cite> (1651; third edition, +1659), a satiric jeu d’esprit, in which the author assumes +the guise of a Frenchman and gives a “character” of +England from the French point of view. He concludes: +“In summe, my Lord, I have found so many particulars +worthy of reproof ... that to render you a veritable +account of England as it is at present I must pronounce +with the poet,—<cite>Difficile est satyram non scribere</cite>.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f256'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r256'>256</a>. Cf. <cite>Trajano Boccalini’s Einfluss auf die Englische +Literatur</cite>, by R. Brotanek, in <cite>Archiv für das Studium der +neueren Sprachen u. Literaturen</cite>, Vol. CXI. (n. s. XI.), +1903; cf. also <cite>Spectator</cite>, No. 514, Steele’s <cite>Vision of +Parnassus</cite>; Swift, <cite>Journal to Stella</cite>, Saturday, April 28th, +1711; and others.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f257'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r257'>257</a>. At the present writing there is no proof for, or +against, a causal relation; it is possible that Boccalini +influenced Marana, but in the absence of satisfactory +evidence I do not wish to imply anything more than +an interesting and suggestive analogy. Cf. P. Toldo. +<cite>Dell’ Espion di Giovanni Paolo Marana e delle sue attinenze +con le Lettres Persanes del Montesquieu</cite>, in <cite>Giornale +Storico</cite>, Vol. XXIX., pp. 46–79; esp. 53; and Antonio +Belloni, in Vol. VII. of <cite>Storia Litteraria d’Italia ... Il +Seicento ...</cite> Milano, 1898–1899, p. 374.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f258'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r258'>258</a>. Cf. W. Raleigh, <cite>The English Novel ...</cite> New York, +1904. Fifth edition, p. 120.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f259'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r259'>259</a>. W. Raleigh, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 109.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f260'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r260'>260</a>. <cite>Works of A. Pope ...</cite> edited by Rev. W. L. Bowles, +London, 1806, Vol. VIII., pp. 110–112; Vol. IX., p. +372, n.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f261'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r261'>261</a>. Spence, <i>op. cit.</i>, on p. 77, n. 2; p. 169. “After reading +the <cite>Persian Tales</cite> (and I had been reading Dryden’s +<cite>Fables</cite> just before them) I had some thoughts of writing +a Persian Fable; in which I should have given full loose +to description and imagination. It would have been a +very wild thing if I had executed it, but might not have +been unentertaining.”</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f262'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r262'>262</a>. During her husband’s embassy there, 1711–1718. +<cite>Letters and Works</cite> of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu ... +new edition, 2 vols., London, 1887. The date of the +first edition of <cite>Turkish Letters</cite> was 1763.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f263'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r263'>263</a>. <cite>Swift’s Journal to Stella.</cite> <span class='fss'>A.D.</span> <i>1710–1713</i>, edited ... +by F. Ryland, London, 1897, p. 327. <cite>Letter</cite> XL., January +26, 1711–1712.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f264'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r264'>264</a>. Cf. numerous references in <cite>Oliver Goldsmith ...</cite> by +W. Irving. Hudson edition ... New York, 1864.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f265'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r265'>265</a>. <cite>Works of Sir William Temple, Bart.</cite>, Vol. III., London, +1757, pp. 304–393; <cite>Of heroic Virtue</cite>, pp. 430–472. +<cite>An essay upon Ancient and Modern Learning.</cite></p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f266'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r266'>266</a>. To this list other names might be added, <i>e.g.</i> that +of Clara Reeve, author of <cite>The Old English Baron</cite> and +editor of <cite>Charoba</cite>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f267'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r267'>267</a>. Cf. App. A, pp. 258, 259, Byron.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f268'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r268'>268</a>. Cf. <cite>Source of the Hall of Eblis by B. Cornwall</cite>, by H. +Jantzen, <cite>Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen u. +Literaturen ...</cite> Vol. CVIII. (n. s. VIII.), 1902, p. 318 <i>et seq.</i></p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f269'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r269'>269</a>. Cf. Chap. I., pp. 36–38.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f270'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r270'>270</a>. Cf. Chap. I., p. 27.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f271'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r271'>271</a>. Cf. App. A, pp. 259–262, Swift; 262, 263, Smollett; +263, Southey and Thomson.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f272'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r272'>272</a>. Cf. on the “goodness” of Haroun Alraschid, J. Payne: +<cite>The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night</cite>, in nine +volumes ... London, 1884, Vol. IX. <cite>Concluding Essay.</cite></p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f273'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r273'>273</a>. Cf. App. A, pp. 263–265, Wordsworth; 265, Scott; +265, 266, Dickens; 266, Thackeray.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f274'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r274'>274</a>. V. Chauvin, <cite>Bibliographie des ouvrages arabes</cite>, Vol. +VI., § 286 n., “Pari Banou.” In <cite>Waverley</cite>, Chap. V., Scott +refers to Prince Hussain’s tapestry and Malek’s flying +sentry-box. The subtitle of <cite>The Betrothed</cite> is <cite>A Tale of +the Crusaders</cite>, but the story is in no respects oriental.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f275'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r275'>275</a>. <cite>The Collected Writings of Thomas De Quincey ...</cite> +edited by David Masson, Edinburgh, 1889, Vol. I., pp. +127–130. Cf. <cite>Revue des deux Mondes</cite>, 1896, Vol. 138, +pp. 121, 122.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f276'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r276'>276</a>. Cf. V. Chauvin, <i>op. cit.</i>, Vol. VI., for influence of +Arabian tales on European writers. Of course nineteenth-century +authors were influenced also by versions +of the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite> later than those of the period +under discussion, <i>e.g.</i> those of J. Scott, Burton, Lane, +Payne, etc.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f277'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r277'>277</a>. On one aspect of the duality in Dr. Johnson’s nature, +cf. <cite>The Prayers of Dr. Johnson</cite>, edited by W. A. Bradley, +New York, 1902, pp. 84, 85.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f278'> +<p class='c022'><a href='#r278'>278</a>. I am informed by Professor Charles C. Torrey of Yale +University, that this legend, of the duel between Moses and +“Auj” (Og, King of Bashan), is found in the oldest Arabic +history of Egypt, written about the middle of the ninth century +<span class='fss'>A.D.</span></p> +</div> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c002'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div><span class='xlarge'>Studies in Comparative Literature</span></div> + <div class='c003'><span class='large'>A HISTORY OF LITERARY CRITICISM IN THE RENAISSANCE</span></div> + <div class='c002'><i>With Special Reference to the Influence of Italy in the Formation and Development of Modern Classicism</i></div> + <div class='c002'>By JOEL ELIAS SPINGARN</div> + </div> +</div> + +<table class='table1'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth33'> +<col class='colwidth36'> +<col class='colwidth30'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c024'>Cloth, 12mo</td> + <td class='c024'>pp. xi + 330</td> + <td class='c025'>$1.50, <i>net</i></td> + </tr> 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