{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_13060/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_13060","id":"gutenberg_13060","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/13060","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Persian literature -- Translations into English"],"text":"Notes: Volume 1 of this work can be found in Project Gutenberg's library.\n       See https://www.gutenberg.org/etext/10315\n\n       A few original typesetter's errors (inconsistent spelling,\n       superfluous quotation marks, and the like) have been corrected\n       in the interests of producing a smooth-reading text.\n\n       The reader will also occasionally find a line of asterisks\n       between sections. These are found in the original and they\n       indicate a missing section. It is not clear why the translator\n       skipped these sections. Reference to another, complete,\n       translation of the Gulistan shows no appreciable differences,\n       in length or subject, between the sections included and those\n       excluded.\n\n\n\n\n\nPERSIAN LITERATURE\n\ncomprising\n\nTHE SH\u00c1H N\u00c1MEH, THE RUB\u00c1IY\u00c1T\nTHE DIVAN, AND THE GULISTAN\n\nRevised Edition, Volume 2\n\n1900\n\nWith a special introduction by\nRICHARD J. H. GOTTHEIL, Ph.D.\nProfessor of Rabbinical Literature and the Semitic Languages\nat Columbia University\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nTHE GULISTAN\n\nIntroduction\n\nCHAPTER\n\n   I.  Of the Customs of Kings\n\n  II.  Of the Morals of Dervishes\n\n III.  On the Preciousness of Contentment\n\n  IV.  On the Benefit of Being Silent\n\n   V.  On Love and Youth\n\n  VI.  Of Imbecility and Old Age\n\n VII.  Of the Impressions of Education\n\nVIII.  Of the Duties of Society\n\n\n\n\nTHE GULISTAN\n\nBY\n\nSA'DI\n\n[Translation by James Ross]\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nThe Persian poet Sa'di, generally known in literary history as\nMuslih-al-Din, belongs to the great group of writers known as the\nShirazis, or singers of Shiraz. His \"Gulistan,\" or \"Rose Garden,\" is the\nmature work of his life-time, and he lived to the age of one hundred and\neight. The Rose Garden was an actual thing, and was part of the little\nhermitage, to which he retired, after the vicissitudes and travels of\nhis earlier life, to spend his days in religious contemplation, and the\nembodiment of his experience in reminiscences, which took the form of\nanecdotes, sage and pious reflections, _bon-mots_, and exquisite lyrics.\nWhen a friend visited him in his cell and had filled a basket with\nnosegays from the garden of the poet with roses, hyacinths, spikenards,\nand sweet-basils, Sa'di told him of the book he was writing, and\nadded:--\"What can a nosegay of flowers avail thee? Pluck but one leaf\nfrom my Rose Garden; the rose from yonder bush lasts but a few days, but\nthis Rose must bloom to all eternity.\"\n\nSa'di has been proved quite correct in this estimate of his own work.\nThe book is indeed a sweet garden of unfading freshness. If we compare\nSa'di with Hafiz, we find that both of them based their theory of life\nupon the same Sufic pantheism. Both of them were profoundly religious\nmen. Like the strong and life-giving soil out of whose bosom sprang the\nrose-tree, wherein the nightingales sang, was the fixed religious\nconfidence, which formed the support of each poet's mind, amid all the\nvagaries of fancy, and the luxuriant growth of fruit and flower which\ntheir genius gave to the world. Hafiz is the Persian Anacreon. As he\nraises his voice of thrilling and unvarying sweetness, his steps reel,\nhe waves the thyrsus, and his flushed cheek shows the inspiration of the\nvine. To him the Supreme Being has much in common with the Indian or\nThracian Dionysus, the god of perennial youth, joyous revel, and\nexhilaration. Hafiz can never be the guide, though he may be the cheerer\nof mortals, adding more to the gayety than to the wisdom of life. But\nboth in the western and in the eastern world Sa'di must always be looked\nupon as the guide and enlightener of those who taste life, and love\npoetry. It has been said by a wise man that poetry is the great\ninstructor of mature minds. Many a man turning away in weariness from\nthe controversies, the insincerities, and the pretentiousness of the\nintellectualists around him, has exclaimed, \"Give me my Horace.\" But\nHorace with all his _bonhommie_, his common sense, and his acuteness, is\nbut the representative of a narrow Roman coterie of the Augustan age.\nHow thin, flimsy, and unspiritual does he appear in comparison with the\nmarvellous depth, the spiritual insight, the tenderness and power of\nexpression which characterized Sa'di.\n\nSa'di had begun his life as a student of the Koran and became early\nimbued with the quietism of Islam. The cheerfulness and exuberant joy\nwhich characterize the poems he wrote before he reached his fortieth\nyear, had bubbled up under the repressions of severe discipline and\nausterity. But the religion of Mohammed was soon exchanged by him, under\nthe guidance of a famous teacher, for the wider and more transcendental\nsystem of Sufism. Within the area of this magnificent scheme, the\nboldest ever formulated under the name of religion, he found the liberty\nwhich his soul desired. Early discipline had made him a morally sound\nman, and it is the goodness of Sa'di that lends such a warm and\nendearing charm to his works. The last finish was given to his\nintellectual training by the travels which he took after the Tartar\ninvasion desolated Persia, in the thirteenth century. India, Arabia,\nSyria, were in turn visited. He found Damascus a congenial\nhalting-place, and lived there for some time, with an increasing\nreputation as a sage and poet. He preached at Baalbec on the\nfugitiveness of human life, on faith, love, and rest in God. He\nwandered, like Jerome, in the wilderness about Jerusalem, and worked as\na slave in Africa in the trenches of Tripoli: he travelled the length\nand breadth of Asia Minor. When he arrived back at Shiraz, he had passed\nthe limit of three-score years and ten, and there he remained in his\nhermitage and his garden, to arrange the result of all his studies, his\nexperiences, and his sufferings, in that consummate work which he has\nnamed the \"Rose Garden,\" after the little cultivated plot in which he\nspent his declining days and drew his last breath.\n\nThe \"Gulistan\" is divided into eight chapters, each dealing with a\nspecific subject and partaking of the nature of an essay: although these\nchapters are composed of disjointed paragraphs, generally beginning with\nan aphorism or an anecdote and closing with an original poem of a few\nlines. Sometimes these paragraphs are altogether lyrical. We are struck,\nfirst of all, by the personal character of these paragraphs; many of\nthem relate the experience of the poet in some part of his travels,\nexpressing his comment upon what he had seen and heard. His comments\ngenerally take the form of practical wisdom, or religious suggestion. He\ngives us the impression that he knows life and the human heart\nthoroughly. It may be said of him, as Arnold said of Sophocles, he was\none \"who saw life steadily, and saw it whole.\" On the other hand, there\nis not the slightest trace of cynical acerbity in his writings. He has\npassed through the world in the independence of a self-possessed soul,\nand has found it all good, saving for the folly of fools and the\nwretchedness and degradation of the depraved. There is no bitter\nfountain in the \"Rose Garden,\" and the old man's heart is as fresh as\nwhen he left Shiraz, thirty years before; the sprightliness of his\npoetry has only been ripened and tempered to a more exquisite flavor, by\nthe increase of wisdom and the perfecting of art.\n\nAbove all, we find in Sa'di the science of life, as comprising morality\nand religion, set forth in a most suggestive and a most attractive form.\nIn some way or other the \"Rose Garden\" may remind us of the \"Essays\" of\nBacon, which were published in their complete form the year before the\ngreat English philosopher died. Both works cover a large area of thought\nand experience; but the Englishman is clear, cold, and sometimes\ncynical, while the Persian is more spiritual, though not less acute, and\nhas the fervor of the poet which Bacon lacks, and the religious devotion\nwhich the \"Essays\" altogether miss. The \"Rose Garden\" has maxims which\nare not unworthy of being cherished amid the highest Christian\ncivilization, while the serenity of mind, the poetic fire, the\ntransparent sincerity of Sa'di, make his writings one of those books\nwhich men may safely take as the guide and inspirer of their inmost\nlife. Sa'di died at Shiraz about the year 1292 at the reputed age of one\nhundred and ten.\n\nE.W.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nOf the Customs of Kings\n\n\nI\n\nI have heard of a king who made the sign to put a captive to death. The\npoor wretch, in that state of desperation, began to abuse the king in\nthe dialect which he spoke, and to revile him with asperity, as has been\nsaid; whoever shall wash his hands of life will utter whatever he may\nharbor in his heart:--\"_When a man is desperate he will give a latitude\nto his tongue, like as a cat at bay will fly at a dog_\"--\"at the moment\nof compulsion when it is impossible to fly, the hand will grasp the\nsharp edge of a sword.\" The king asked, saying, \"What does he say?\" One\nof the Vizirs (or nobles in attendance), and a well-disposed man, made\nanswer, \"O my lord! he is expressing himself and saying, _(paradise is\nfor such) as are restraining their anger and forgiving their\nfellow-creatures; and God will befriend the benevolent_.\" The king felt\ncompassion for him, and desisted from shedding his blood. Another\nnobleman, and the rival of that former, said, \"It is indecorous for such\npeers, as we are, to use any language but that of truth in the presence\nof kings; this man abused his majesty, and spoke what was unworthy of\nhim.\" The king turned away indignant at this remark, and replied, \"I was\nbetter pleased with his falsehood than with this truth that you have\ntold; for that bore the face of good policy, and this was founded in\nmalignity; and the intelligent have said, 'A peace-mingling falsehood is\npreferable to a mischief-stirring truth':--Whatever prince may do that\nwhich he (his counsellor) will recommend, it must be a subject of regret\nif he shall advise aught but good.\"\n\nThey had written over the portico of King Ferid\u00fan's palace:--\"This\nworld, O brother! abides with none. Set thy heart upon its maker, and\nlet him suffice thee. Rest not thy pillow and support on a worldly\ndomain which has fostered and slain many such as thou art. Since the\nprecious soul must resolve on going, what matters it whether it departs\nfrom a throne or the ground.\"\n\n\nII\n\nOne of the kings of Khorasan saw, in a dream, Sultan Mahmud, the son of\nSaboktagin, an hundred years after his death, when his body was decayed\nand fallen into dust, all but his eyes, which as heretofore were moving\nin their sockets and looking about them. All the learned were at a stand\nfor its interpretation, excepting one dervish, who made his obeisance,\nand said:--\"He is still looking about him, because his kingdom and\nwealth are possessed by others!--Many are the heroes whom they have\nburied under ground, of whose existence above it not one vestige is\nleft; and of that old carcase which they committed to the earth, the\nearth has so consumed it that not one bone is left. Though many ages are\ngone since Nushirowan was in being, yet in the remembrance of his\nmunificence is his fair renown left. Be generous, O my friend! and avail\nthyself of life, before they proclaim it as an event that such a person\nis not left.\"\n\n\nIII\n\nI have heard of a king's son who was short and mean, and his other\nbrothers were lofty in stature and handsome. On one occasion the king,\nhis father, looked at him with disparagement and scorn. The son, in his\nsagacity, understood him and said, \"O father! a short wise man is\npreferable to a tall blockhead; it is not everything that is mightier in\nstature that is superior in value:--_a sheep's flesh is wholesome, that\nof an elephant carrion_.--_Of the mountains of this earth Sinai is one\nof the least, yet is it most mighty before God in state and\ndignity_.--Heardst thou not what an intelligent lean man said one day to\na sleek fat dolt? An Arab horse, notwithstanding his slim make, is more\nprized thus than a herd of asses.\"\n\nThe father smiled; the pillars of the state, or courtiers, nodded their\nassent, and the other brothers were mortified to the quick. Till a man\nhas declared his mind, his virtue and vice may have lain hidden; do not\nconclude that the thicket is unoccupied, peradventure the tiger is gone\nasleep!\n\nI have heard that about that time a formidable antagonist appeared\nagainst the king. Now that an army was levied in each side, the first\nperson that mounted his horse and sallied upon the plain was that son,\nand he exclaimed: \"I cannot be that man whose back thou mayest see on\nthe day of battle, but am him thou mayest descry amidst the thick of it,\nwith my head covered with dust and blood; for he that engages in the\ncontest sports with his own blood, but he who flees from it sports with\nthe blood of an army on the day of fight.\" He so spoke, assaulting the\nenemy's cavalry, and overthrew some renowned warriors. When he came\nbefore the king he kissed the earth of obeisance, and said, \"O thou, who\ndidst view my body with scorn, whilst not aware of valor's rough\nexterior, it is the lean steed that will prove of service, and not the\nfatted ox, on the day of battle.\"\n\nThey have reported that the enemy's cavalry was immense, and those of\nthe king few in number; a body of them was inclined to fly, when the\nyouth called aloud, and said, \"Be resolute, my brave men, that you may\nnot have to wear the apparel of women!\" The troops were more courageous\non this speech, and attacked altogether. I have heard that on that day\nthey obtained a complete victory over the enemy. The king kissed his\nface and eyes, and folded him in his arms, and became daily more\nattached to him, till he declared him heir-apparent to the throne. The\nbrothers bore him a grudge, and put poison into his food. His sister saw\nthis from a window, and closed the shutter; and the boy understood the\nsign, and withdrew his hand from the dish, and said, \"It is hard that\nthe virtuous should perish and that the vicious should occupy their\nplaces.\" Were the homayi, or phoenix, to be extinct in the world, none\nwould take refuge under the shadow of an owl. They informed the father\nof this event; he sent for the brothers and rebuked them, as they\ndeserved. Then he made a division of his domains, and gave a suitable\nportion to each, that discontent might cease; but the ferment was\nincreased, as they have said: Ten dervishes can sleep on one rug, but\ntwo kings cannot be accommodated in a whole kingdom. When a man after\nGod's heart can eat the moiety of his loaf, the other moiety he will\ngive in alms to the poor. A king may acquire the sovereignty of one\nclimate or empire; and he will in like manner covet the possession of\nanother.\n\n\nIV\n\nA horde of Arab robbers had possessed themselves of the fastness of a\nmountain, and waylaid the track of the caravan. The yeomanry of the\nvillages were frightened at their stratagems, and the king's troops\nalarmed, inasmuch as they had secured an impregnable fortress on the\nsummit of the mountain, and made this stronghold their retreat and\ndwelling.\n\nThe superintendents of the adjacent districts consulted together about\nobviating their mischief, saying: If they are in this way left to\nimprove their fortune, any opposition to them may prove impracticable.\nThe tree that has just taken root, the strength of one man may be able\nto extract; but leave it to remain thus for a time, and the machinery of\na purchase may fail to eradicate it: the leak at the dam-head might have\nbeen stopped with a plug, while, now it has a vent, we cannot ford its\ncurrent on an elephant.\n\nFinally it was determined that they should set a spy over them, and\nwatch an opportunity when they had made a sally upon another tribe, and\nleft their citadel unguarded. Some companies of able warriors and\nexperienced troops were sent, that they might conceal themselves in the\nrecesses of the mountain. At night, when the robbers were returned,\njaded with their march and laden with spoil, and had stripped themselves\nof their armor, and deposited their plunder, the foremost enemy they had\nto encounter was sleep. Now that the first watch of night was\ngone:--\"the disc of the sun was withdrawn into a shade, and Jonas had\nstepped into the fish's mouth \"--the bold-hearted warriors sprang from\ntheir ambush and secured the robbers by pinioning them one after\nanother.\n\nIn the morning they presented them at the royal tribunal, and the king\ngave an order to put the whole to death. There happened to be among them\na stripling, the fruit of whose early spring was ripening in its bloom,\nand the flower-garden of his cheek shooting into blossom. One of the\nvizirs kissed the foot of the imperial throne, and laid the face of\nintercession on the ground, and said, \"This boy has not yet tasted the\nfruit of the garden of life, nor enjoyed the fragrance of the flowers of\nyouth: such is my confidence in the generous disposition of his Majesty\nthat it will favor a devoted servant by sparing his blood.\" The king\nturned his face away from this speech; as it did not accord with his\nlofty way of thinking, he replied:--\"The rays of the virtuous cannot\nilluminate such as are radically vicious; to give education to the\nworthless is like throwing walnuts upon a dome:--it were wiser to\neradicate the tree of their wickedness, and annihilate their tribe; for\nto put out a fire and leave the embers, and to kill a viper and foster\nits young, would not be the acts of rational beings. Though the clouds\npour down the water of vegetation, thou canst never gather fruit from a\nwillow twig. Exalt not the fortune of the abject, for thou canst never\nextract sugar from a mat or common cane.\"\n\nThe vizir listened to this speech; willingly or not he approved of it,\nand applauded the good sense of the king, and said:--\"What his majesty,\nwhose dominion is eternal, is pleased to remark is the mirror of probity\nand essence of good policy, for had he been brought up in the society of\nthose vagabonds, and confined to their service, he would have followed\ntheir vicious courses. Your servant, however, trusts that he may be\ninstructed to associate with the virtuous, and take to the habits of the\nprudent; for he is still a child, and the lawless and refractory\nprinciples of that gang cannot have yet tainted his mind; and it is in\ntradition that--_Whatever child is born, and he is verily born after the\nright way of orthodoxy, namely Islamism, afterwards his father and his\nmother bring him up as a Jew, Christian, or Guebre_.--The wife of Lot\nassociated with the wicked, and her posterity failed in the gift of\nprophecy; the dog of the seven sleepers (at Ephesus) for some time took\nthe path of the righteous, and became a rational being.\"\n\nHe said this, and a body of the courtiers joined him in intercession,\ntill the king acceded to the youth's pardon, and answered: \"I gave him\nup, though I saw not the good of it.--Knowest thou what Zal said to the\nheroic Rustem: 'Thou must not consider thy foe as abject and helpless. I\nhave often found a small stream at the fountain-head, which, when\nfollowed up, carried away the camel and its load.'\"\n\nIn short, the vizir took the boy home, and educated him with kindness\nand liberality. And he appointed him masters and tutors, who taught him\nthe graces of logic and rhetoric, and all manner of courtier\naccomplishments, so that he met general approbation. On one occasion the\nvizir was detailing some instances of his proficiency and talents in the\nroyal presence, and saying: \"The instruction of the wise has made an\nimpression upon him, and his former savageness is obliterated from his\nmind.\" The king smiled at this speech, and replied:--\"The whelp of a\nwolf must prove a wolf at last, notwithstanding he may be brought up by\na man.\"\n\nTwo years after this a gang of city vagabonds got about him, and joined\nin league, till on an opportunity he murdered the vizir and his two\nsons; and, carrying off an immense booty, he took up the station of his\nfather in the den of thieves, and became a hardened villain. The king\nwas apprised of this event; and, seizing the hand of amazement with the\nteeth of regret, said:--\"How can any person manufacture a tempered sabre\nfrom base iron; nor can a base-born man, O wiseacre, be made a gentleman\nby any education! Rain, in the purity of whose nature there is no\nanomaly, cherishes the tulip in the garden and common weed in the\nsalt-marsh. Waste not thy labor in scattered seed upon a briny soil, for\nit can never be made to yield spikenard; to confer a favor on the wicked\nis of a like import, as if thou didst an injury to the good.\"\n\n\nV\n\nAt the gate of Oghlamish Patan, King of Delhi, I (namely Sa'di) saw an\nofficer's son, who, in his wit and learning, wisdom and understanding,\nsurpassed all manner of encomium. In the prime of youth, he at the same\ntime bore on his forehead the traces of ripe age, and exhibited on his\ncheek the features of good fortune:--\"Above his head, from his prudent\nconduct, the star of superiority shone conspicuous.\"\n\nIn short, it was noticed with approbation by the king that he possessed\nbodily accomplishments and mental endowments. And sages have remarked\nthat worth rests not on riches, but on talents; and the discretion of\nage, not in years, but on good sense. His comrades envied his good\nfortune, charged him with disaffection, and vainly attempted to have him\nput to death:--\"but what can the rival effect so long as the charmer is\nour friend?\"\n\nThe king asked, saying, \"Why do they show such a disinclination to do\nyou justice?\" He replied: \"Under the shadow of his majesty's good\nfortune I have pleased everybody, excepting the envious man, who is not\nto be satisfied but with a decline of my success; and let the prosperity\nand dominion of my lord the king be perpetual!\" I can so manage as to\ngive umbrage to no man's heart; but what can I do with the envious man,\nwho harbors within himself the cause of his own chagrin? Die, O ye\nenvious, that ye may get a deliverance; for this is such an evil that\nyou can get rid of it only by death. Men soured by misfortune anxiously\ndesire that the state and fortune of the prosperous may decline; if the\neye of the bat is not suited for seeing by day, how can the fountain of\nthe sun be to blame? Dost thou require the truth? It were better a\nthousand such eyes should suffer, rather than that the light of the sun\nwere obscured.\n\n\nVI\n\nThey tell a story of a Persian king who had stretched forth the arm of\noppression over the subjects' property, and commenced a system of\nviolence and rapacity to such a degree that the people emigrated to\navoid the vexatiousness of his tyranny, and took the road of exile to\nescape the annoyance of his extortions. Now that the population was\ndiminished and the resources of the state had failed, the treasury\nremained empty, and enemies gathered strength on all sides. Whoever may\nexpect a comforter on the day of adversity, say, let him practise\nhumanity during the season of prosperity; if not treated cordially, thy\ndevoted slave will forsake thee; show him kindness and affection, and\nthe stranger may become the slave of thy devotion.\n\nOne day they were reading, in his presence, from the Sh\u00e1h N\u00e1meh, of the\ntyrant Zoh\u00e1k's declining dominion and the succession of Ferid\u00fan. The\nvizir asked the king, saying: \"Can you so far comprehend that Ferid\u00fan\nhad no revenue, domain, or army, and how the kingdom came to be\nconfirmed with him?\" He answered: \"As you have heard, a body of people\ncollected about him from attachment, and gave their assistance till he\nacquired a kingdom.\" The vizir said: \"Since, O sire, a gathering of the\npeople is the means of forming a kingdom, how come you in fact to cause\ntheir dispersion unless it be that you covet not a sovereignty? So far\nwere good that thou wouldst patronize the army with all thy heart, for a\nking with an army constitutes a principality.\" The king asked: \"What are\nthe best means of collecting an army and yeomanry?\" He replied:\n\"Munificence is the duty of a king, that the people may assemble around\nhim, and clemency, that they may rest secure under the asylum of his\ndominion and fortune, neither of which you have. A tyrant cannot govern\na kingdom, for the duty of a shepherd is not expected from the wolf. A\nking that can anyhow be accessory to tyranny will undermine the wall of\nhis own sovereignty.\"\n\nThe advice of the prudent minister did not accord with the disposition\nof the king. He ordered him to be confined, and immured him in a\ndungeon. It soon came to pass that the sons of the king's uncle rose in\nopposition, levied an army in support of their pretensions, and claimed\nthe sovereignty of their father. A host of the people, who had cruelly\nsuffered under the arm of his extortion and were dispersed, gathered\naround and succored them till they dispossessed him of his kingdom and\nestablished them in his stead. That king who can approve of tyrannizing\nover the weak will find his friend a bitter foe in the day of hardship.\nDeal fairly with thy subjects, and rest easy about the warfare of thine\nenemies, for with an upright prince his yeomanry is an army.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nVIII\n\nThey asked Hormuz, son of Nushirowan, \"What fault did you find with your\nfather's ministers that you ordered them into confinement?\" He replied:\n\"I saw no fault that might deserve imprisonment; yet I perceived that\nany reverence for me makes a slight impression on their minds, and that\nthey put no implicit reliance on my promise. I feared lest from an\napprehension of their own safety they might conspire my ruin;\ntherefore, put in practice that maxim of philosophers who have told us:\n'Stand in awe, O wise man, of him who stands in awe of thee,\nnotwithstanding thou canst cope with a hundred such as he. Therefore\nwill the snake bite the herdsman's foot, because it fears that he will\nbruise its head with a stone. Seest thou not that now that the cat is\ndesperate it will tear out the tiger's eyes with its claws.'\"\n\n\nIX\n\nIn his old age an Arab king was grievously sick, and had no hopes of\nrecovery, when, lo! a messenger on horseback presented himself at the\npalace-gate, and joyfully announced, saying: \"Under his majesty's good\nfortune we have taken such a stronghold, made the enemy prisoners of\nwar, and reduced all the landholders and vassals of that quarter to\nobedience as subjects.\" On hearing this news the king fetched a cold\nsigh, and answered: \"These glad tidings are not intended for me but for\nmy rivals, namely, the heirs of the sovereignty. My precious life has,\nalas! been wasted in the hope that what my heart chiefly coveted might\nenter at my gate. My bounden hope was gratified; yet what do I benefit\nby that? There is no hope that my passed life can return. The hand of\ndeath beats the drum of departure. Yes, my two eyes, you must bid adieu\nto my head. Yes, palm of my hand, wrist, and arm, all of you say\nfarewell, and each take leave of the other. Death has overtaken me to\nthe gratification of my foes; and you, O my friends, must at last be\ngoing. My days were blazed away in folly; what I did not do let you take\nwarning (and do).\"\n\n\nX\n\nAt the metropolitan mosque of Damascus I was one year fervent in prayer\nover the tomb of Yahiya, or John the Baptist and prophet, on whom be\nGod's blessing, when one of the Arab princes, who was notorious for his\ninjustice, chanced to arrive on a pilgrimage, and he put up his\nsupplication, asked a benediction, and craved his wants.--The rich and\npoor are equally the devoted slaves of this shrine, and the richer they\nare the more they stand in need of succor. Then he spoke to me, saying:\n\"In conformity with the generous resolution of dervishes and their\nsincere zeal, you will, I trust, unite with me in prayer, for I have\nmuch to fear from a powerful enemy.\" I answered him, \"Have compassion on\nyour own weak subjects, that you may not see disquiet from a strong foe.\nWith a mighty arm and heavy hand it is dastardly to wrench the wrists of\npoor and helpless. Is he not afraid who is hardhearted with the fallen\nthat if he slip his foot nobody will take him by the hand?--Whoever\nsowed the seed of vice and expected a virtuous produce, pampered a vain\nbrain and encouraged an idle whim. Take the cotton from thy ear and do\nmankind justice, for if thou refusest them justice there is a day of\nretribution. The sons of Adam are members one of another, for in their\ncreation they have a common origin. If the vicissitudes of fortune\ninvolve one member in pain, all the other members will feel a sympathy.\nThou, who art indifferent to other men's affliction, if they call thee a\nman art unworthy of the name.\"\n\n\nXI\n\nA dervish, whose prayers had a ready acceptance (with God), made his\nappearance at Bagdad. Hojaj Yusuf (a great tyrant) sent for him and\nsaid: \"Put up a good prayer for me.\" He prayed, \"O God! take from him\nhis life!\" Hojaj said, \"For God's sake, what manner of prayer is this?\"\nHe answered: \"It is a salutary prayer for you, and for the whole sect of\nMussulmans.--O mighty sir, thou oppressor of the feeble, how long can\nthis violence remain marketable? For what purpose came the sovereignty\nto thee? Thy death were preferable to thy tyrannizing over mankind.\"\n\n\nXII\n\nAn unjust king asked a holy man, saying, \"What is more excellent than\nprayers?\" He answered: \"For you to remain asleep till mid-day, that for\nthis one interval you might not afflict mankind.\"--I saw a tyrant lying\ndormant at noon, and said, \"This is mischief, and is best lulled to\nsleep. It were better that such a reprobate were dead whose state of\nsleep is preferable to his being awake.\"\n\n\nXIII\n\nI have heard of a king who had turned night into day in the midst of\nconviviality, and in the gayety of intoxication was exclaiming--\"I never\nwas in this life happier than at this present moment, for I have no\nthought of evil or good, and care for nobody!\"--A naked dervish, who had\ntaken up his rest in the cold outside, answered--\"O thou, who in good\nfortune hast not thy equal in the world, I admit that thou hast no cause\nof care for thyself, but hast thou none for us?\"--The king was pleased\nat this speech. He put a purse of a thousand dinars out at the window,\nand said: \"O dervish! hold up your skirt.\" He replied, \"Where can I find\na skirt, who have not a garment.\" The king was still more touched at the\nhardship of his condition, and adding an honorary dress to that\ndonation, sent them out to him.\n\nThe dervish squandered all that ready cash within a few days, and\nfalling again into distress, returned.--\"Money makes no stay in the hand\nof a religious independent; neither does patience in a lover's heart,\nnor water in a sieve.\"--At a time when the king had no thought about\nhim, they obtruded his case, and he took offence and turned away his\nface. And it is on such an occasion that men of prudence and experience\nhave remarked that it behooves us to guard against the wrath and fury of\nkings, whose noble thoughts are chiefly occupied with important affairs\nof state, and cannot endure the importunate clamors of the vulgar.--The\nbounty of the sovereign is forbid to him who does not watch a proper\nopportunity. Till thou canst perceive a convenient time for obtruding an\nopinion, undermine not thy consequence by idle talk.--The king said,\n\"Let this impudent beggar and spendthrift be beaten and driven away, who\nin a short time dissipated such a sum of money, for the treasury of the\nBeat-al-mal, or charity fund, is intended to afford mouthfuls to the\npoor, and not bellyfuls to the imps of the devil.--That fool who can\nilluminate the day with a camphorated taper must soon feel a want of oil\nfor his lamp at night.\"\n\nOne of his discreet ministers said: \"O king, it were expedient to supply\nsuch people with their means of subsistence by instalments, that they\nmay not squander their absolute necessaries; but, with respect to what\nyour majesty commanded as to coercion and prohibition, though it be\ncorrect, a party might impute it to parsimony. Nor does it moreover\naccord with the principles of the generous to encourage a man to hope\nfor kindness and then overwhelm him with heartbreaking distrust:--Thou\nmust not open upon thyself the door of covetousness; and when opened,\nthou must not shut it with harshness.--Nobody will see the thirsty\npilgrims crowding towards the shore of the briny ocean; but men, birds,\nand reptiles will flock together wherever they can meet a fresh water\nfountain.\"\n\n\nXIV\n\nOne of the ancient kings was easy with the yeomanry in collecting his\nrevenue, but hard on the soldiery in his issue of pay; and when a\nformidable enemy showed its face, these all turned their\nbacks.--Whenever the king is remiss in paying his troops, the troops\nwill relax in handling their arms. What bravery can he display in the\nranks of battle whose hand is destitute of the means of living?\n\nOne of those who had excused themselves was in some sort my intimate. I\nreproached him and said, \"He is base and ungrateful, mean and\ndisreputable who, on a trifling change of circumstances, can desert his\nold master and forget his obligation of many years' employment.\" He\nreplied: \"Were I to speak out, I swear by generosity you would excuse\nme. Peradventure, my horse was without corn, and the housings of his\nsaddle in pawn.--And the prince who, through parsimony, withholds his\narmy's pay cannot expect it to enter heartily upon his service.\"--Give\nmoney to the gallant soldier that he may be zealous in thy cause, for if\nhe is stinted of his due he will go abroad for service.--_So long as a\nwarrior is replenished with food he will fight valiantly, and when his\nbelly is empty he will run away sturdily_.\n\n\nXV\n\nOne of the vizirs was displaced, and withdrew into a fraternity of\ndervishes, whose blessed society made its impression upon him and\nafforded consolation to his mind. The king was again favorably disposed\ntowards him, and offered his reinstatement in office; but he consented\nnot, and said, \"With the wise it is deemed preferable to be out of\noffice than to remain in place.--Such as sat within the cell of\nretirement blunted the teeth of dogs, and shut the mouths of mankind;\nthey destroyed their writings, and broke their writing reeds, and\nescaped the lash and venom of the critics.\"--The king answered: \"At all\nevents I require a prudent and able man, who is capable of managing the\nstate affairs of my kingdom.\" The ex-minister said: \"The criterion, O\nsire, of a wise and competent man is that he will not meddle with such\nlike matters.--The homayi, or phoenix, is honored above all other birds\nbecause it feeds on bones, and injures no living creature.\"\n\nA Tamsil, or application in point.--They asked a Siyah-gosh, or\nlion-provider, \"Why do you choose the service of the lion?\" He answered:\n\"Because I subsist on the leavings of his prey, and am secure from the\nill-will of my enemies under the asylum of his valor.\" They said: \"Now\nyou have got within the shadow of his protection and admit a grateful\nsense of his bounty, why do you not approach more closely, that he may\ninclude you within the circle of select courtiers and number you among\nhis chosen servants?\" He replied, \"I should not thus be safe from his\nviolence.\"--Though a Guebre may keep his fire alight for a hundred\nyears, if he fall once within its flame it will burn him.--_Procul \u00e0\nJove, procul \u00e0 fulmine_. It on one occasion may chance that the courtier\nof the king's presence shall pick up a purse of gold, and the next that\nhe shall lie shorter by the head. And philosophers have remarked,\nsaying, \"It is incumbent on us to be constantly aware of the fickle\ndispositions of kings, who will one moment take offence at a salutation,\nand at another make an honorary dress the return for an act of rudeness;\nand they have said, That to be over much facetious is the accomplishment\nof courtiers and blemish of the wise.--Be wary, and preserve the state\nof thine own character, and leave sport and buffoonery to jesters and\ncourtiers.\"\n\n\nXVI\n\nOne of my associates brought me a complaint of his perverse fortune,\nsaying, \"I have small means and a large family, and cannot bear up with\nmy load of poverty. Often has a thought crossed my mind, suggesting, Let\nme remove into another country, that in whatever way I can manage a\nlivelihood none may be informed of my good or bad luck.\"--(Often he\nwent asleep hungry, and nobody was aware, saying, \"Who is he?\" Often did\nhis life hang upon his lip, and none lamented over him.)--\"On the other\nhand, I reflect on the exultation of my rivals, saying, They will\nscoffingly sneer behind my back, and impute my zeal in behalf of my\nfamily to a want of humanity.--Do but behold that graceless vagabond who\ncan never witness the face of good fortune. He will consult the ease of\nhis own person and abandon to distress his wife and children.--And, as\nis known, I have some small skill in the science of accounts. If,\nthrough your respected interest, any office can be obtained that may be\nthe means of quieting my mind, I shall not, during the remainder of\nlife, be able to express my sense of its gratitude.\"\n\nI replied, \"O brother, the service of kings offers a twofold prospect--a\nhope of maintenance and a fear for existence; and it accords not with\nthe counsel of the wise, under that expectation, to incur this risk.--No\ntax-gatherer will enter the dervish's abode, saying, Pay me the rent of\na field and orchard; either put up with trouble and chagrin, or give thy\nheartstrings to the crows to pluck.\"\n\nHe said, \"This speech is not made as applicable to my case, nor have you\ngiven me a categorical answer. Have you not heard what has been\nremarked, 'His hand will tremble on rendering his account who has been\naccessory to a dishonest act.--Righteousness will insure the divine\nfavor; I never met him going astray who took the righteous path.'--And\nphilosophers have said, 'Four orders of people are mortally afraid of\nfour others--the revenue embezzler, of the king; the thief, of the\nwatchman; the fornicator, of the eavesdropper; and the adulteress, of\nthe censor.' But what has he to fear from the comptroller who has a fair\nset of account-books?--'Be not extravagant and corrupt while in office\nif thou wishest that the malice of thy rival may be circumscribed on\nsettling thy accounts. Be undefiled, O brother, in thy integrity, and\nfear nobody; washermen will beat only dirty clothes against a stone.'\"\n\nI replied, \"The story of that fox suits your case, which they saw\nrunning away, stumbling and getting up. Somebody asked him, 'What\ncalamity has happened to put you in such a state of trepidation?' He\nsaid, 'I have heard that they are putting a camel in requisition.' The\nother answered, 'O silly animal! what connection has a camel with you,\nor what resemblance is there between you and it?' He said, 'Be silent;\nfor were the envious from malevolence to insist that this is a camel,\nand I should be seized for one, who would be so solicitous about me as\nto inquire into my case?' And before they can bring the antidote from\nIrac the person bitten by the snake may be dead. In like manner, you\npossess knowledge and integrity, discrimination and probity, yet spies\nlie in ambush, and informers lurk in corners, who, notwithstanding your\nmoral rectitude, will note down the opposite; and should you anyhow\nstand arraigned before the king, and occupy the place of his\nreprehension, who in that state would step forward in your defence?\nAccordingly, I would advise that you should secure the kingdom of\ncontentment, and give up all thoughts of preferment. As the wise have\nsaid:--'The benefits of a sea voyage are innumerable; but if thou\nseekest for safety, it is to be found only on shore.'\"\n\nMy friend listened to this speech; he got into a passion, cavilled at my\nfable, and began to question it with warmth and asperity, saying, \"What\nwisdom or propriety, good sense or morality, is there in this? Here is\nverified that maxim of the sage, which tells us they are friends alone\nthat can serve us in a jail, for all our enemies may pretend friendship\nat our own table.--'Esteem him not a friend who during thy prosperity\nwill brag of his love and brotherly affection.' I account him a friend\nwho will take his friend by the hand when struggling with despair, and\noverwhelmed with misfortune.\"\n\nI perceived within myself, saying, \"He is disturbed, and listens to my\nadvice with impatience;\" and, having called the sahib diwan, or lord\nhigh treasurer, in virtue of a former intimacy that subsisted between\nus, I stated his case and spoke so fully upon his skill and merits, that\nhe put him in nomination for a trifling office. After some time, having\nadverted to his kindly disposition and approved of his good management,\nhis promotion was in train, and he got confirmed in a much higher\nstation. Thus was the star of his good fortune in ascension, till it\nrose into the zenith of ambition; and he became the favorite of his\nmajesty the king, towards whom all turned for counsel, and upon whom all\neyes rested their hopes! I rejoiced at this prosperous change of his\naffairs, and said:--\"Repine not at thy bankrupt circumstances, nor let\nthy heart despond, for the fountain of immortality has its source of\nchaos.--_Take heed, O brother in affliction! and be not disheartened,\nfor God has in store many hidden mercies_.--Sit not down soured at the\nrevolutions of the times, for patience is bitter, yet it will yield\nsweet fruit.\"\n\nAt that juncture I happened to accompany a party of friends on a journey\nto Hijaz, or Arabia Petraea. On my return from the pilgrimage to Mecca,\nhe came out two stages to meet me. I perceived that his outward plight\nwas wretched, and his garb that of dervishes. I asked, \"How is this?\" He\nreplied, \"Just as you said, a faction bore me a grudge and charged me\nwith malpractices; and the king, be his reign eternal, would not\ninvestigate the truth of that charge, and my old and best friends stood\naloof from my defence, and overlooked my claims on our former\nacquaintance.--When, through an act of God, a man has fallen, the whole\nworld will put their feet upon his neck; when they see that fortune has\ntaken him by the hand, they will put their hands upon their breasts, and\nbe loud in his praise.--In short, I underwent all manner of persecution\ntill within this week, that the tidings of the safe return of the\npilgrims reached us, when I got a release from my heavy durance and a\nconfiscation of my hereditary tenements.\" I said, \"At that time you did\nnot listen to my admonition, when I warned you that the service of\nprinces is, like a voyage at sea, profitable but hazardous: you either\nget a treasure or perish miserably.--The merchant gains the shore with\ngold in both his hands, or a wave will one day leave him dead on its\nbeach.\"--Not deeming it generous any further to irritate a poor man's\nwound with the asperity of reproach, or to sprinkle his sore with the\nsalt of harsh words, I made a summary conclusion in these two verses,\nand said:--\"Wert thou not aware that thou shouldst find fetters on thy\nfeet when thou wouldst not listen to the generous man's counsel? Thrust\nnot again thy finger into a scorpion's hole till thou canst endure the\npain of its sting.\"\n\n\nXVII\n\nI was the companion of a holy fraternity, whose manners were correct\nfrom piety, and minds disciplined from probity. An eminent prince\nentertained a high and respectful opinion of the worth of this\nbrotherhood, and had assigned it an endowment. Perhaps one of them\ncommitted an act unworthy of the character of dervishes; for the good\nopinion of that personage was forfeited, and the market of their support\nshut. I wished that I could by any means re-establish the maintenance of\nmy friends, and attempted to wait on the great man; but his porter\nopposed my entrance, and turned me away with rudeness. I excused him\nconformably with what the witty have said:--\"Till thou canst take an\nintroduction along with thee approach not the gate of a prince, vizir,\nor lord; for the dog and the doorkeeper, on espying a beggar, will the\none seize his skirt and the other his collar.\"\n\nWhen the favorite attendants of that great man were aware of my\nsituation, they ushered me into his presence with respect, and offered\nme the highest seat; but in humility I took the lowest, and said:\n\"Permit that I, the slave of the abject, should seat myself on a level\nwith servants.\"--The great man answered, \"My God, my God! what room is\nthere for this speech? Wert thou to seat thyself upon the pupil of mine\neye, I would court thy dalliance, for thou art lovely.\"\n\nIn short, I took my seat, and entered upon a variety of topics, till the\nindiscretion of my friends was brought upon the carpet, when I said:\n\"What fault did the lord of past munificence remark, that his servant\nshould seem so contemptible in his sight? Individually with God is the\nperfection of majesty and goodness, who can discern our failings and\ncontinue to us his support.\" When the prince heard this sentiment he\nsubscribed to its omnipotence; and, with regard to the stipendiary\nallowance of my friends, he ordered its continuance as heretofore, and a\nfaithful discharge of all arrears. I thanked him for his generosity,\nkissed the dust of obeisance, apologized for my boldness, and at the\nmoment of taking my leave, added: \"When the fane of the Caabah, at\nMecca, became their object from a far distant land, pilgrims would hurry\non to visit it for many farsangs. It behooves thee to put up with such\nas we are, for nobody will throw a stone at a tree that bears no\nfruit.\"\n\n\nXVIII\n\nA prince inherited immense riches by succeeding to his father. He opened\nthe hand of liberality, displayed his munificence, and bestowed\ninnumerable gifts upon his troops and people. \"The brain will not be\nperfumed by a censer of green aloes-wood; place it over the fire that it\nmay diffuse fragrance like ambergris. If ambitious of a great name, make\na practice of munificence, for the crop will not shoot till thou shalt\nsow the seed.\"\n\nA narrow-minded courtier began to admonish him, saying, \"Verily, former\nsovereigns have collected this wealth with scrupulosity and stored it\nadvisedly. Check your hand in this waste, for accidents wait ahead, and\nfoes lurk behind. God forbid that you should want it on a day of\nneed.--Wert thou to distribute the contents of a granary among the\npeople, every master of a family might receive a grain of rice; why not\nexact a grain of silver from each, that thou mightest daily hoard a\nchamber full of treasure?\"\n\nThe prince turned his face aside from this speech, so contrary to his\nown lofty sentiments, and harshly reprimanded him, saying, \"A great and\nglorious God made me sovereign of this property, that I might enjoy and\nspend it; and posted me not a sentinel, to hoard and watch over\nit.--Carown perished, who possessed forty magazines of treasure;\nNushirowan died not, who left behind him a fair reputation.\"\n\n\nXIX\n\nThey have related that at a hunting seat they were roasting some game\nfor Nushirowan, and as there was no salt they were despatching a servant\nto the village to fetch some. Nushirowan called to him, saying, \"Take it\nat its fair price, and not by force, lest a bad precedent be established\nand the village desolated.\" They asked, \"What damage can ensue from this\ntrifle?\" He answered, \"Originally, the basis of oppression in this world\nwas small, and every newcomer added to it, till it reached to its\npresent extent:--Let the monarch eat but one apple from a peasant's\norchard, and his guards, or slaves, will pull up the tree by its root.\nFrom the plunder of five eggs, that the king shall sanction, his troops\nwill stick a thousand fowls on their spits.\"\n\n\nXX\n\nI have heard of a revenue-collector who would distrain the huts of the\npeasantry, that he might enrich the treasury of the sovereign,\nregardless of that maxim of the wise, who have said, \"Whoever can offend\nthe Most High, that he may gain the heart of a fellow-creature, God on\nhigh will instigate that creature against him, till he dig out the\nfoundation of his fortune:--That crackling in the flame is not caused by\nburning rue, but it is the sigh of the afflicted that occasions it.\"\n\nThey say, of all animals the lion is the chief; and of beasts the ass is\nthe meanest; yet, with the concurrence of the wise, the burden-bearing\nass is preferable to the man-devouring lion. \"The poor ass, though\ndevoid of understanding, will be held precious when carrying a burden;\noxen and asses that carry loads are preferable to men that injure their\nfellow-creatures.\"\n\nThe king had reported to him a part of his nefarious conduct. He put him\nto the rack, and tortured him to death. \"Thou canst not obtain the\nsovereign's approbation till thou make sure of the good-will of his\npeople. Wishest thou that God shall be bountiful to thee, be thou good\nthyself to the creatures of God.\"\n\nOne who had suffered from his oppression passed him at the time of his\nexecution, and said: \"It is not every man that may have the strong arm\nof high station, that can in his government take an immoderate freedom\nwith the subjects' property. It is possible to cram a bone down the\nthroat, but when it sticks at the navel it will burst open the belly.\"\n\n\nXXI\n\nThey tell a story of an evil-disposed person who struck a pious good man\non the head with a stone. Having no power of revenge, the dervish was\nkeeping the stone by him till an occasion when the sovereign let loose\nthe army of his wrath, and cast him into a dungeon. The poor man went up\nand flung that stone at his head. The person spoke to him, saying, \"Who\nare you, and why did you throw this stone at my head?\" He answered, \"I\nam that poor man, and this is the same stone that you on a certain\noccasion flung at my head.\" He said, \"Where have you been all this\ntime?\" The poor man answered, \"I stood in awe of your high station, but\nnow that I find you in a dungeon, I avail myself of the opportunity, as\nthey have said--'Whilst they saw the worthless man in prosperity, the\nwise thought proper to show him respect. Now thou hast not sharp and\ntearing nails, it is prudent for thee to defer to engage with the\nwicked. Whoever grappled with a steel-armed wrist exposed his own silver\narm to torture. Wait till fortune can manacle his hands, then beat out\nhis brains to the satisfaction of thy friends.'\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXXIII\n\nOne of King Umraw-layas's slaves had absconded, and people that went\nafter him brought him back. The vizir, who had a dislike to him, used\nhis interest to have him put to death, that the other slaves (as he\npretended) might not commit the same offence. The poor slave fell at\nUmraw-layas's feet, and said: \"Whatever may befall me, if thou approve\nof it, it is so far proper. What plea can a vassal offer against his\nlord and master's decree?--Nevertheless, inasmuch as I am the nurtured\ngift of this house, I could not wish that on the last day's reckoning my\nblood should stand charged to your account. If, at all events, you are\nresolved to put this your slave to death, let it be done with a plea of\nlegality, that you may not be censured at the day of resurrection.\" The\nking asked, \"How can I set up a legal plea?\" He replied, \"Issue your\ncommand that I may kill the vizir, then give an order to put me to death\nin retaliation for him, that you may kill me according to law!\" The king\nsmiled and asked the vizir, \"What is your advice in this case?\" The\nvizir said, \"O sovereign of the world! I beg, for the sake of God, that\nyou will manumit this audacious fellow as a propitiation at the tomb of\nyour forefathers, lest he also involve me in calamity. The fault was on\nmy side, in not doing justice to the saying of the wise, who have warned\nus:--'When thou didst enter the lists with a practised slinger, in thy\nwant of skill thou exposest thine own head to be broken. When thou didst\ndischarge thine arrow at thy antagonist's face thou shouldst have been\nupon thy guard, for thou hadst become his butt.'\"\n\n\nXXIV\n\nKing Zuzan had a minister of a generous spirit and kindly disposition,\nwho was polite to all persons while present, and spoke well of them when\nabsent. One of his acts happened to displease the king, who put him\nunder stoppages, and in rigorous confinement. The officers of the crown\nwere sensible of his former benefits, and pledged to show their\ngratitude of them. Accordingly, whilst under their charge, they treated\nhim with courtesy and benevolence, and would not use any coercion or\nviolence:--\"If thou desirest to remain at peace with a rival, whenever\nhe slanders thee behind thy back speak well of him to his face. The\nperverse man cavils for the last word; unless thou preferest his bitter\nremarks, make his mouth sweet.\"\n\nOf the charge against him at the king's exchequer, part had been\nadjusted according to its settlement, and he remained in durance for the\nbalance. A bordering prince sent him underhand a letter, stating, \"The\nsovereign of that quarter has not appreciated such worth, nay, has\ndishonored it, and with us it bore a heavy price. If the precious mind\nof a certain personage, may God facilitate his deliverance, will incline\nfavorably towards us, every possible exertion shall be made to\nconciliate his good-will, and the cabinet ministers of this kingdom are\nexulting in the prospect of seeing him, and anxious for the answer of\nthis letter.\" The minister made himself master of the contents. He\npondered on the danger, wrote such a brief answer as seemed discreet\nupon the back of the letter, and returned it. One of the hangers-on at\ncourt had notice of this circumstance. He apprised the king, saying, \"A\ncertain person whom you have put in confinement is corresponding with a\nneighboring prince.\" The king was wroth, and ordered an investigation of\nthis intelligence. The messenger was seized, and letter read. On the\nback of it he had written, stating, \"The good opinion of his Majesty\nexceeds the merits of this slave; but the honored approbation he has\nbestowed upon a servant cannot possibly have his consent, for he is the\nfostered gift of this house, and he cannot, on a trifling change of\naffection, betray his ancient benefactor and patron.--Though once in his\nlife he may grate thee with harshness, excuse him who on every occasion\nelse has soothed thee with kindness.\" The king commended his fidelity,\nbestowed on him an honorary dress and largess, and made his excuses,\nsaying, \"I was to blame, that could do you an injury.\" He replied, \"In\nthis instance, my lord, your servant sees no blame that attaches to you;\nbut such was the ordination of God, whose name was glorified, that this\nyour devoted slave should verily be overtaken with a calamity.\nAccordingly, it is more tolerable at the hand of you, who possess the\nrights of past good, and have claims of gratitude on this servant:--Be\nnot offended with mankind should any mischief assail thee, for neither\npleasure nor pain originate with thy fellow-being. Know that the\ncontrariety of foe and friend proceeds from God, and that the hearts of\nboth are at his disposal. Though the arrow may seem to issue from the\nbow, the intelligent can see that the archer gave it its aim.\"\n\n\nXXV\n\nI have heard that one of the kings of Arabia directed the officers of\nhis treasury, saying, \"You will double a certain person's salary,\nwhatever it may be, for he is constant in attendance and ready for\norders, while the other courtiers are diverted by play, and negligent of\ntheir duty.\" A good and holy man overheard this, and heaved a sigh and\ngroan from the bottom of his bosom. They asked, saying, \"What vision did\nyou see?\" He replied, \"The exalted mansions of his devoted servants will\nbe after this manner portioned out at the judgment-seat of a Most High\nand Mighty Deity!--If for two mornings a person is assiduous about the\nperson of the king, on the third he will in some shape regard him with\naffection. The sincerely devout exist in the hope that they shall not\ndepart disappointed from God's threshold. The rank of a prince is the\nreward of obedience. Disobedience to command is a proof of rejection.\nWhoever has the aspect of the upright and good will lay the face of duty\nat this threshold.\"\n\n\nXXVI\n\nThey tell a story of a tyrant who bought fire-wood from the poor at a\nlow price, and sold it to the rich at an advance. A good and holy man\nwent up to him and said, \"Thou art a snake, who bitest everybody thou\nseest; or an owl, who diggest up and makest a ruin of the place where\nthou sittest:--Although thy injustice may pass unpunished among us, it\ncannot escape God, the knower of secrets. Be not unjust with the people\nof this earth, that their complaints may not rise up to heaven.\"\n\nThey say the unjust man was offended at his words, turned aside his\nface, and showed him no civility, as they have expressed it (in the\nKoran):--_He, the glorified God, overtook him amidst his sins_:--till\none night, when the fire of his kitchen fell upon the stack of wood,\nconsumed all his property, and laid him from the bed of voluptuousness\nupon the ashes of hell torments. That good and holy man happened to be\npassing and observed that he was remarking to his friends, \"I cannot\nfancy whence this fire fell upon my dwelling.\" He said, \"From the smoke\nof the hearts of the poor!--Guard against the smoke of the\nsore-afflicted heart, for an inside sore will at last gather into a\nhead. Give nobody's heart pain so long as thou canst avoid it, for one\nsigh may set a whole world into a flame.\"\n\nThey have related that these verses were inscribed in golden letters\nupon Kai-khosr\u00e1u's crown:--\"How many years, and what a continuance of\nages, that mankind shall on this earth walk over my head. As the kingdom\ncame to me from hand to hand, so it shall pass into the hands of\nothers.\"\n\n\nXXVII\n\nA person had become a master in the art of wrestling; he knew three\nhundred and sixty sleights in this art, and could exhibit a fresh trick\nfor every day throughout the year. Perhaps owing to a liking that a\ncorner of his heart took for the handsome person of one of his scholars,\nhe taught him three hundred and fifty-nine of those feats, but he was\nputting off the instruction of one, and under some pretence deferring\nit.\n\nIn short the youth became such a proficient in the art and talent of\nwrestling that none of his contemporaries had ability to cope with him,\ntill he at length had one day boasted before the reigning sovereign,\nsaying, \"To any superiority my master possesses over me, he is beholden\nto my reverence of his seniority, and in virtue of his tutorage;\notherwise I am not inferior in power, and am his equal in skill.\" This\nwant of respect displeased the king. He ordered a wrestling match to be\nheld, and a spacious field to be fenced in for the occasion. The\nministers of state, nobles of the court, and gallant men of the realm\nwere assembled, and the ceremonials of the combat marshalled. Like a\nhuge and lusty elephant, the youth rushed into the ring with such a\ncrash that had a brazen mountain opposed him he would have moved it from\nits base. The master being aware that the youth was his superior in\nstrength, engaged him in that strange feat of which he had kept him\nignorant. The youth was unacquainted with its guard. Advancing,\nnevertheless, the master seized him with both hands, and, lifting him\nbodily from the ground, raised him above his head and flung him on the\nearth. The crowd set up a shout. The king ordered them to give the\nmaster an honorary dress and handsome largess, and the youth he\naddressed with reproach and asperity, saying, \"You played the traitor\nwith your own patron, and failed in your presumption of opposing him.\"\nHe replied, \"O sire! my master did not overcome me by strength and\nability, but one cunning trick in the art of wrestling was left which he\nwas reserved in teaching me, and by that little feat had to-day the\nupper hand of me.\" The master said, \"I reserved myself for such a day as\nthis. As the wise have told us, 'Put it not so much into a friend's\npower that, if hostilely disposed, he can do you an injury.' Have you\nnot heard what that man said who was treacherously dealt with by his own\npupil:--'Either in fact there was no good faith in this world, or nobody\nhas perhaps practised it in our days. No person learned the art of\narchery from me who did not in the end make me his butt.'\"\n\n\nXXVIII\n\nA solitary dervish had taken up his station at the corner of a desert. A\nking was passing by him. Inasmuch as contentment is the enjoyment of a\nkingdom, the dervish did not raise his head, nor show him the least mark\nof attention; and, inasmuch as sovereignty is regal pomp, the king took\noffence, and said, \"The tribe of ragged mendicants resemble brute\nbeasts, and have neither grace nor good manners.\" The vizir stepped up\nto him, and said: \"O generous man! the sovereign of the universe has\npassed by you; why did you not do him homage, and discharge the duty of\nobeisance?\" He answered and said, \"Speak to your sovereign, saying:\nExpect service from that person who will court your favor; let him\nmoreover know that kings are meant for the protection of the people, and\nnot the people for the subjects of kings.--Though it be for their\nbenefit that his glory is exalted, yet is the king but the shepherd of\nthe poor. The sheep are not intended for the service of the shepherd,\nbut the shepherd is appointed to tend the sheep.--To-day thou mayest\nobserve one man proud from prosperity, another with a heart sore from\nadversity; have patience for a few days till the dust of the grave can\nconsume the brain of that vain and foolish head. When the record of\ndestiny came to take effect, the distinction of liege and subject\ndisappeared. Were a person to turn up the dust of the defunct, he could\nnot distinguish that of the rich man from the poor.\"\n\nThese sayings made a strong impression upon the king; he said: \"Ask me\nfor something.\" He replied: \"What I desire is, that you will not trouble\nme again!\" The king said, \"Favor me with a piece of advice.\" He\nanswered: \"Attend to them now that the good things of this life are in\nthy hands; for wealth and dominion are passing from one hand into\nanother.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXXX\n\nA king ordered an innocent person to be put to death. The man said,\n\"Seek not your own hurt by venting any anger you may entertain against\nme.\" The king asked, \"How?\" He replied, \"The pain of this punishment\nwill continue with me for a moment, but the sin of it will endure with\nyou forever.--The period of this life passes by like the wind of the\ndesert. Joy and sorrow, beauty and deformity, equally pass away. The\ntyrant vainly thought that he did me an injury, but round his neck it\nclung and passed over me.\"\n\nThe king profited by this advice, spared his life, and asked his\nforgiveness.\n\n\nXXXI\n\nThe cabinet ministers of Nushirowan were debating an important affair of\nstate, and each delivered his opinion according to the best of his\njudgment. In like manner the king also delivered his sentiments, and\nAbu-zarchamahr, the prime minister, accorded in opinion with him. The\nother ministers whispered him, saying, \"What did you see superior in the\nking's opinion that you preferred it to the judgment of so many wise\nheads?\" He replied: \"Because the event is doubtful, and the opinion of\nall rests in the pleasure of the most high God whether it shall be right\nor wrong. Accordingly it is safer to conform with the judgment of the\nking, because if that shall prove wrong, our obsequiousness to his will\nshall secure us from his displeasure.--To sport an opinion contrary to\nthe judgment of the king were to wash our hands in our own blood. Were\nhe verily to say this day is night, it would behoove us to reply: Lo!\nthere are the moon and seven stars.\"\n\n\nXXXII\n\nAn impostor plaited his hair and spake, saying, \"I am a descendant of\nAli;\" and he entered the city along with the caravan from Hijaz, saying,\n\"I come a pilgrim from Mecca;\" and he presented a Casidah or elegy to\nthe king, saying, \"I have composed it!\" The king gave him money, treated\nhim with respect, and ordered him to be shown much flattering attention;\ntill one of the courtiers, who had that day returned from a voyage at\nsea, said, \"I saw him on the Eeduzha, or anniversary of sacrifice at\nBusrah; how then can he be a Haji, or pilgrim?\" Another said, \"Now I\nrecollect him, his father was a Christian at Malatiyah (Malta); how then\ncan he be a descendant of Ali?\" And they discovered his verses in the\ndivan of Anwari. The king ordered that they should beat and drive him\naway, saying, \"How came you to utter so many falsehoods?\" He replied, \"O\nsovereign of the universe! I will utter one speech more, and if that may\nnot prove true, I shall deserve whatever punishment you may command.\"\nThe king asked, \"What may that be?\" He said: \"If a peasant bring thee a\ncup of junket, two measures of it will be water and one spoonful of it\nbuttermilk. If thy slave spake idly be not offended, for great\ntravellers deal most in the marvellous!\" The king smiled and replied,\n\"You never in your life spake a truer word.\" He directed them to gratify\nhis expectations, and he departed happy and content.\n\n\nXXXIII\n\nThey have related that one of the vizirs would compassionate the weak\nand meditate the good of everybody. He happened to fall under the royal\ndispleasure, and they all strove to obtain his release. Such as had him\nin custody were indulgent in their restraint, and his fellow-grandees\nwere loud in proclaiming his virtues, till the king pardoned his fault.\nA good and holy man was apprised of these events, and said:--\"In order\nto conciliate the good-will of friends, it were better to sell our\npatrimonial garden; in order to boil the pot of well-wishers, it were\ngood to convert our household furniture into fire-wood. Do good even to\nthe wicked; it is as well to shut a dog's mouth with a crumb.\"\n\n\nXXXIV\n\nOne of Harun-al-Rashid's children went up to his father in a passion,\nsaying, \"A certain officer's son has abused me in my mother's name.\"\nHarun asked his ministers, \"What ought to be such a person's\npunishment?\" One made a sign to have him put to death; another to have\nhis tongue cut out; and a third, to have him fined and banished. Harun\nsaid: \"O my child! it were generous to forgive him; but if you have not\nresolution to do that, do you abuse his mother in return, yet not to\nsuch a degree as to exceed the bounds of retaliation, for in that case\nthe injury would be on our part, and the complaint on that of the\nantagonist.--In the opinion of the prudent he is no hero that can dare\nto combat a furious elephant; but that man is in truth a hero who, when\nprovoked to anger, will not speak intemperately. A cross-grained fellow\nabused a certain person; he bore it patiently, and said, O well-disposed\nman! I am still more wicked than thou art calling me; for I know my\ndefects better than thou canst know them.\"\n\n\nXXXV\n\nI was seated in a vessel, along with some persons of distinction, when a\nboat sunk astern of us and two brothers were drawn into the whirlpool.\nOne of our gentlemen called to the pilot, saying, \"Save those two\ndrowning men and I will give you a hundred dinars.\" The pilot went and\nrescued one of them, but the other perished. I observed, \"That man's\ntime was come, therefore you were tardy in assisting him, and alert in\nsaving this other.\" The pilot smiled, and replied, \"What you say is the\nessence of inevitable necessity; yet was my zeal more hearty in rescuing\nthis one, because on an occasion when I was tired in the desert he set\nme on a camel; whereas, when a boy, I had received a horsewhipping from\nthat other.\"--_God Almighty was all justice and equity: whoever labored\nunto good experienced good in himself; and he who toiled unto evil\nexperienced evil_.--So long as thou art able grate nobody's heart, for\nin this path there must be thorns. Expedite the concerns of the poor and\nneedy; for thy own concerns may need to be expedited.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXXXVII\n\nA person announced to Nushirowan the Just, saying, \"I have heard that\nGod, glorious and great, has removed from this world a certain man who\nwas your enemy.\" He said, \"Have you had any intelligence that he has\noverlooked me? In the death of a rival I have no room for exultation,\nsince my life also is not to last forever.\"\n\n\nXXXVIII\n\nAt the court of Kisra, or Nushirowan, a cabinet council was debating\nsome state affair. Abu-zarchamahr, who sat as president, was silent.\nThey asked him, \"Why do you not join us in this discussion?\" He replied,\n\"Such ministers of state are like physicians, and a physician will\nprescribe a medicine only to a sick man; accordingly, so long as I see\nthat your opinions are judicious, it were ill-judged in me to obtrude a\nword.--While business can proceed without my interference, it does not\nbehoove me to speak on the subject; but were I to see a blind man\nwalking into a pit, I would be much to blame if I remained silent.\"\n\n\nXXXIX\n\nWhen he reduced the kingdom of Misr, or Egypt, to obedience,\nHarun-al-Rashid said, \"In contempt of that impious rebel (Pharaoh), who,\nin his pride of the sovereignty of Egypt, boasted a divinity, I will\nbestow its government only on the vilest of my slaves.\" He had a negro\nbondsman, called Khosayib, preciously stupid, and him he appointed to\nrule over Egypt. They tell us that his judgment and understanding were\nsuch, that when a body of farmers complained to him, saying, \"We had\nplanted some cotton shrubs on the banks of the Nile, and the rains came\nunseasonably, and swept them all away;\"--he replied, \"You ought to sow\nwool, that it might not be swept away!\" A good and holy man heard this,\nand said: \"Were our fortune to be increased in proportion to our\nknowledge, none could be scantier than the share of the fool; but\nfortune will bestow such wealth upon the ignorant as shall astonish a\nhundred of the learned. Power and fortune depend not on knowledge, they\nare obtained only through the aid of heaven; for it has often happened\nin this world that the illiterate are honored, and the wise held in\nscorn. The fool in his idleness found a treasure under a ruin; the\nchemist, or projector, fell the victim of disappointment and chagrin.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nOf the Morals of Dervishes\n\n\nI\n\nA person of distinction asked a parsa, or devout and holy man, saying,\n\"What do you offer in justification of a certain abid, another species\nof Mohammedan monk, whose character others have been so ready to\nquestion?\" He replied: \"In his outward behavior I see nothing to blame,\nand with the secrets of his heart I claim no acquaintance.--Whomsoever\nthou seest in a parsa's habit, consider him a parsa, or holy, and esteem\nhim as a good man; and if thou knowest not what is passing in his mind,\nwhat business has the mohtasib, or censor, with the inside of the\nhouse?\"\n\n\nII\n\nI saw a dervish who, having laid his head at the fane of the Cabah of\nMecca, was complaining and saying, \"O gracious, O merciful God! thou\nknowest what can proceed from the sinful and ignorant that may be worthy\nof thy acceptance!--I brought my excuse of imperfect performance, for I\nhave no claim on the score of obedience. The wicked repent them of their\nsins; such as know God confess a deficiency of worship.\"\n\nAbids, or the pious, seek a reward of their devotion, merchants a profit\non their traffic. I, a devoted servant, have brought hope, not\nobedience, and have come as a beggar, and not for lucre!--_Do unto me\nwhat is worthy of thyself; but deal not with me as I myself have\ndeserved_.--Whether thou wilt slay me or pardon my offence, my head and\nface are prostrate at thy threshold. Thy servant has no will of his own;\nwhatever thou commandest, that he will perform. At the door of the Cabah\nI saw a petitioner, who was praying and weeping bitterly. I ask not,\nsaying, \"Approve of my obedience, but draw the pen of forgiveness across\nmy sins.\"\n\n\nIII\n\nWithin the sanctuary of the Cabah, at Mecca, I saw Abd-u'l-cadur the\nGilani, who having laid his face upon the Hasa, or black stone, was\nsaying, \"Spare and pardon me, O God! and if, at all events, I am doomed\nto punishment, raise me up at the day of resurrection blindfolded, that\nI may not be put to shame in the eyes of the righteous.\" Every morning\nwhen the day begins to dawn, with my face in the dust of humility, I am\nsaying, \"O thou, whom I never can forget, dost thou ever bestow a\nthought on thy servant?\"\n\n\nIV\n\nA thief got into a holy man's cell; but, however much he searched, he\ncould find nothing to steal, and was going away disappointed. The good\nsoul was aware of what was passing, and taking up the rug on which he\nhad slept, he put it in his way that he might not miss his object.--I\nhave heard that the heroes on the path of God will not distress the\nhearts of their enemies. How canst thou attain this dignified station\nwho art at strife and warfare with thy friends?\n\nThe loving kindness of the righteous, whether before your face or behind\nyour back, is not such that they will censure you when absent, and offer\nto die for you when present.--Face to face meek as a lamb, behind your\nback like a man-devouring wolf. Whoever brings you, and sums up the\nfaults of others, will doubtless expose your defects to them.\n\n\nV\n\nSome travelling mendicants had agreed to club in a body and participate\nin the cares and comforts of society. I expressed a wish that I might be\none of the party, but they refused to admit me. I said: \"It is rare and\ninconsistent with the generous dispositions of dervishes to turn their\nfaces from a good-fellowship with the poor, and to deny them its\nbenefits, for on my part I feel such a zeal and good-will, that in the\nservice of the liberal I am likely to prove rather an active associate\nthan a grievous load.--_Though not one of those who are mounted on the\ncamels, I will do my best, that I may carry their saddle-cloths_.\"\n\nOne of them answered and said: \"Be not offended at what you have heard,\nfor some days back a thief joined us in the garb of a dervish, and\nstrung himself upon the cord of our acquaintance.--How can people know\nwhat he is that wears that dress? The writer can alone tell the\ncontents of the letter.\" In consequence of that reverence in which the\ndervish character is held, they did not think of his profligacy and\nadmitted him into their society. The outward character of the holy is a\npatched cloak; this much is sufficient, that it has a threadbare hood.\nBe industrious in thy calling, and wear whatever dress thou choosest.\nPut a diadem on thy head, and bear a standard on thy shoulder. Holiness\ndoes not consist in a coarse frock. Let a zahid, or holy man, be truly\npious, and he may dress in satin. Sanctity is not merely a change of\ndress; it is an abandonment of the world, its pomp and vanity. It\nrequires a hero to wear a coat of mail, for what would it profit to\ndress an hermaphrodite, or coward, in a suit of armor?\n\nIn short we had one day travelled till dark, and at night composed\nourselves for sleep under the wall of a castle. That graceless thief\ntook up his neighbor's ewer, saying, \"I am going to my ablutions;\" and\nhe was setting out for plunder. Behold a religious man, who threw a\npatched cloak over his shoulders; he made the covering of the Cabah the\nhousing of an ass. So soon as he got out of the sight of the dervishes,\nhe scaled a bastion of the fort and stole a casket. Before break of day\nthat gloomy-minded robber had got a great way off, and left his innocent\ncompanions asleep. In the morning they were all carried into the\ncitadel, and thrown into a dungeon. From that time we have declined any\naddition to our party, and kept apart to ourselves, _for there is safety\nin unity, but danger in duality or a multitude_.--When an individual of\na sect committed an act of folly, the high and the low sunk in their\ndignity. Dost thou not see that one ox in a pasturage will cast a slur\nupon all the oxen of the village?\n\nI said: \"Let there be thanksgiving to a Deity of majesty and glory that\nI am not forbid the benefits of dervishes, notwithstanding I am in\nappearance excluded from their society; and I am instructed by this\nnarration, and others like me may profit by its moral during their\nremaining lives.--From one indiscreet person in an assembly a host of\nthe prudent may get hurt. If they fill a cistern to the brim with\nrose-water, and let a dog fall into it, the whole will be\ncontaminated.\"\n\n\nVI\n\nA zahid was the guest of a king. When he sat down at table he ate more\nsparingly from that than his appetite inclined him, and when he stood up\nat prayers he continued longer at them than it was his custom; that they\nmight form a high opinion of his sanctity.--I fear, O Arab! that thou\nwilt not reach the Caabah; for the road that thou art taking leads to\nTurkistan, or the region of infidels.\n\nWhen he returned home he ordered the table to be spread that he might\neat. His son was a youth of a shrewd understanding. He said: \"O father,\nperhaps you ate little or nothing at the feast of the king?\" He\nanswered, \"In his presence I ate scarce anything that could answer its\npurpose!\" Then retorted the boy, \"Repeat also your prayers, that nothing\nbe omitted that can serve a purpose.\" Yes, thy virtues thou hast exposed\nin the palm of thy hand, thy vices thou hast hid under thy arm-pit. Take\nheed, O hypocrite, what thou wilt be able to purchase with this base\nmoney on the day of need or day of judgment.\n\n\nVII\n\nI remember that in my early youth I was overmuch religious and vigilant,\nand scrupulously pious and abstinent. One night I sat up in attendance\non my father, on whom be God's mercy, never once closed my eyes during\nthe whole night, and held the precious Koran open on my lap, while the\ncompany around us were fast asleep. I said to my father: \"Not an\nindividual of these will raise his head that he may perform his\ngenuflections, or ritual of prayer; but they are all so sound asleep,\nthat you might conclude they were dead.\" He replied: \"O emanation of\nyour father, you had also better have slept than that you should thus\ncalumniate the failings of mankind.--The braggart can discern only his\nown precious person; he will draw the veil of conceit all around him.\nWere fortune to bestow upon him God's all-searching eye, he would find\nnobody weaker than himself.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nX\n\nOn one occasion, at the metropolitan mosque of Balbek, I was holding\nforth, by way of admonition to a congregation cold and dead at heart,\nand not to be moved from the materialism of this world into the paths of\nmysticism. I perceived that the spirit of my discourse was making no\nimpression, nor were the sparks of my enthusiasm likely to strike fire\ninto their humid wood. I grew weary of instructing brutes, and of\nholding up a mirror to an assembly of the blind; but the door of\nexposition was thrown open, and the chain of argument extended; and in\nexplanation of this text in the Koran--_We are nearer to him_ (God)\n_than the vein of his neck_.--I had reached that passage of my sermon\nwhere I thus express myself:--\"Such a mistress as is closer to me in her\naffection than I am to myself, but this is marvellous that I am\nestranged from her. What shall I say, and to whom can I tell it, that\nshe lies on my bosom and I am alienated from her.\"\n\nThe intoxicating spirit of this discourse ran into my head, and the\ndregs of the cup still rested in my hand, when a traveller, as passing\nby, entered the outer circle of the congregation, and its expiring\nundulation lit upon him. He sent forth such a groan that the others in\nsympathy with him joined in lamentation, and the rawest of the assembly\nbubbled in unison. I exclaimed, \"Praise be to God! those far off are\npresent in their knowledge, and those near by are distant from their\nignorance. If the hearer has not the faculty of comprehending the\nsermon, expect not the vigor of genius in the preacher. Give a scope to\nthe field of inclination, that the orator may have room to strike the\nball of eloquence over it.\"\n\n\nXI\n\nOne night in the desert of Mecca, from an excess of drowsiness, I had\nnot a foot to enable me to proceed; and, laying my head on the earth, I\ngave myself up for lost, and desired the camel-driver to leave me to my\nfate.--How could the foot of the poor jaded pedestrian go on, now that\nthe Bactrian dromedary got impatient of its burden? While the body of a\nfat man is getting lean, a lean man must fall the victim of a hardship.\n\nThe camel-driver replied: \"O brother, holy Mecca is ahead, and the\nprofane robber behind; if you come forward you escape, but if you stay\nhere you die!\" During the night journey of the caravan, and in the track\nof the desert, it is fascinating to dose under the acacia-thorn tree;\nbut, on this indulgence, we must resign all thoughts of surviving it.\n\n\nXII\n\nI saw on the sea-shore a holy man who had been torn by a tiger, and\ncould get no salve to heal his wound. For a length of time he suffered\nmuch pain, and was all along offering thanks to the Most High. They\nasked him, saying, \"Why are you so grateful?\" He answered, \"God be\npraised that I am overtaken with misfortune and not with sin! Were that\nbeloved friend, God, to give me over to death, take heed, and think not\nthat I should be solicitous about life. I would ask, What hast thou seen\namiss in thy poor servant that thy heart should take offence at me? for\nthat could alone give me a moment's uneasiness.\"\n\n\nXIII\n\nHaving some pressing occasion, a dervish stole a rug from the hut of a\nfriend. The judge ordered that they should cut off his hand. The owner\nof the rug made intercession for him, saying, \"I have forgiven him.\" The\njudge replied, \"At your instance I cannot relax the extreme sentence of\nthe law.\" He said: \"In what you ordered you spoke justly. Nevertheless,\nwhoever steals a portion of any property dedicated to alms must not\nsuffer the forfeiture of his hand, for a _religious mendicant is not the\nproprietor of anything_; and whatever appertains to dervishes is devoted\nto the necessitous.\" The judge withdrew his hand from punishing him, and\nby way of reprimand asked, \"Had the world become so circumscribed that\nyou could not commit a theft but in the dwelling of such a friend?\" He\nanswered, \"Have you not heard what they have said, 'Sweep everything\naway from the houses of your friends, but knock not at the doors of your\nenemies.' When overwhelmed with calamity let not thy body pine in\nmisery. Strip thy foes of their skins, and thy friends of their\njackets.\"\n\n\nXIV\n\nA king said to a holy man, \"Are you ever thinking of me?\" \"Yes,\" replied\nhe, \"at such time as I am forgetting God Almighty! He will wander all\naround whom God shall drive from his gate; and he will not let him go to\nanother door whom he shall direct into his own.\"\n\n\nXV\n\nOne of the righteous in a dream saw a king in paradise, and a parsa, or\nholy man, in hell. He questioned himself, saying, \"What is the cause of\nthe exaltation of this, and the degradation of that, for we have fancied\ntheir converse?\" A voice came from above, answering, \"This king is in\nheaven because of his affection for the holy, and that parsa is in hell\nbecause of his connection with the kingly.\"--What can a coarse frock,\nrosary, and patched cloak avail? Abstain from such evil works as may\ndefile thee. There is no occasion to put a felt cowl upon thy head. Be a\ndervish in thy actions, and wear a Tartarian coronet.\n\n\nXVI\n\nA pedestrian, naked from head to foot, left Cufah with the caravan of\npilgrims for Hijaz, or Mecca, and came along with us. I looked at and\nsaw him destitute of every necessary for the journey; yet he was\ncheerfully pushing on, and bravely remarking:--\"I am neither mounted on\na camel nor a mule under a burden. I am neither the lord of vassals nor\nthe vassal of a lord. I think not of present sorrows or past vanities,\nbut breathe the breath of ease and live the life of freedom!\"\n\nA gentleman mounted on a camel said to him, \"O dervish, whither are you\ngoing? return, or you must perish miserably.\" He did not heed what he\nsaid, but entered the desert on foot and proceeded. On our reaching the\npalm plantation of Mahmud, fate overtook the rich man, and he died. The\ndervish went up to his bier and said, \"I did not perish amidst hardship\non foot, and you expired on a camel's back.\" A person sat all night\nweeping by the side of a sick friend. Next day he died, and the invalid\nrecovered!--Yes! many a fleet horse perished by the way, and that lame\nass reached the end of the journey. How many of the vigorous and hale\ndid they put underground, and that wounded man recovered!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXVIII\n\nIn the territory of the Greeks a caravan was attacked by robbers, and\nplundered of much property. The merchants set up a lamentation and\ncomplaint, and besought the intercession of God and the prophet; but all\nto no purpose.--When the gloomy-minded robber is flushed with victory,\nwhat will he feel for the traveller's despair.\n\nLucman, the fabulist and philosopher, happened to be among them. One of\nthe travellers spoke to him, saying, \"Direct some maxims of wisdom and\nadmonition to them; perhaps they may restore a part of our goods; for it\nwere a pity that articles of such value should be cast away.\" He\nanswered: \"It were a pity to cast away the admonitions of wisdom upon\nthem!\" From that iron which the rust has corroded thou canst not\neradicate the canker with a file. What purpose will it answer to preach\nto the gloomy-minded infidel? A nail of iron cannot penetrate into a\npiece of flint.\n\nPerhaps the fault has been on our part (in not being charitable), as\nthey have said:--\"On the day of thy prosperity remember the bankrupt and\nneedy, for by visiting the hearts of the poor with charity thou shalt\ndivert calamity. When the beggar solicits alms from thee, bestow it with\na good grace; otherwise the tyrant may come and take it by force.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXX\n\nThey asked Lucman, the fabulist, \"From whom did you learn manners?\" He\nanswered, \"From the unmannerly, for I was careful to avoid whatever part\nof their behavior seemed to me bad.\" They will not speak a word in joke\nfrom which the wise cannot derive instruction; let them read a hundred\nchapters of wisdom to a fool, and they will all seem but a jest to him.\n\n\nXXI\n\nThey tell a story of an abid, who in the course of a night would eat ten\nmans, or pounds, of food, and in his devotions repeat the whole Koran\nbefore morning. A good and holy man heard this, and said, \"Had he eaten\nhalf a loaf of bread, and gone to sleep, he would have done a more\nmeritorious act.\" Keep thy inside unencumbered with victuals, that the\nlight of good works may shine within thee; but thou art void of wisdom\nand knowledge, because thou art filled up to the nose with food.\n\n\nXXII\n\nThe divine favor had placed the lamp of grace in the path of a wanderer\nin forbidden ways, till it directed him into the circle of the\nrighteous, and the blessed society of dervishes, and their spiritual\nco-operation enabled him to convert his wicked propensities into\npraiseworthy deeds, and to restrain himself in sensual indulgences; yet\nwere the tongues of calumniators questioning his sincerity, and saying,\nHe retains his original habits, and there is no trusting to his piety\nand goodness.--By the means of repentance thou mayest get delivered from\nthe wrath of God, but there is no escape from the slanderous tongue of\nman.--He was unable to put up with the virulence of their remarks, and\ntook his complaint to his ghostly father, saying, \"I am much troubled by\nthe tongues of mankind.\" The holy man wept, and answered, \"How can you\nbe sufficiently grateful for this blessing, that you are better than\nthey represent you?--How often wilt thou call aloud saying, The\nmalignant and envious are calumniating wretched me, that they rise up to\nshed my blood, and that they sit down to devise me mischief. Be thou\ngood thyself, and let people speak evil of thee; it is better than to be\nwicked, and that they should consider thee as good.\"--But, on the other\nhand, behold me, of whose perfectness all entertain the best opinion,\nwhile I am the mirror of imperfection.--Had I done what they have said,\nI should have been a pious and moral man.--_Verily, I may conceal myself\nfrom the sight of my neighbor, but God knows what is secret and what is\nopen_.--There is a shut door between me and mankind, that they may not\npry into my sins; but what, O Omniscience! can a closed door avail\nagainst thee, who art equally informed of what is manifest or concealed?\n\n\nXXIII\n\nI lodged a complaint with one of our reverend Shaikhs, saying: \"A\ncertain person has borne testimony against my character on the score of\nlasciviousness.\" He answered, \"Shame him by your continence.--Be thou\nvirtuously disposed, that the detractor may not have it in his power to\nindulge his malignity. So long as the harp is in tune, how can it have\nits ear pulled (or suffer correction by being put in tune) by the\nminstrel?\"\n\n\nXXIV\n\nThey asked one of the Shaikhs of Sham, or Syria, saying: \"What is the\ncondition of the Sufi sect?\" He answered, \"Formerly they were in this\nworld a fraternity dispersed in the flesh, but united in the spirit; but\nnow they are a body well clothed carnally, and ragged in divine\nmystery.\" Whilst thy heart will be every moment wandering into a\ndifferent place, in thy recluse state thou canst not see purity; but\nthough thou possessest rank and wealth, lands and chattels, if thy heart\nbe fixed on God, thou art a hermit.\n\n\nXXV\n\nOn one occasion we had marched, I recollect, all the night along with\nthe caravan, and halted towards morning on the skirts of the wilderness.\nOne mystically distracted, who accompanied us on that journey, set up a\nloud lamentation at dawn, went a-wandering into the desert, and did not\ntake a moment's rest. Next day I said to him, \"What condition was that?\"\nHe replied, \"I remarked the nightingales that they had come to carol in\nthe groves, the pheasants to prattle on the mountains, the frogs to\ncroak in the pools, and the wild beasts to roar in the forests, and\nthought with myself, saying, It cannot be generous that all are awake in\nGod's praise and I am wrapt up in the sleep of forgetfulness!--Last\nnight a bird was carolling towards the morning; it stole my patience\nand reason, my fortitude and understanding. My lamentation had perhaps\nreached the ear of one of my dearly-beloved friends. He said, 'I did not\nbelieve that the singing of a bird could so distract thee!' I answered,\nThis is not the duty of the human species, that the birds are singing\nGod's praise and that I am silent.\"\n\n\nXXVI\n\nOnce, on a pilgrimage to Hijaz, I was the fellow-traveller of some\npiously-disposed young men, and on a footing of familiarity and intimacy\nwith them. From time to time we were humming a tune and chanting a\nspiritual hymn, and an abid, who bore us company, kept disparaging the\nmorals of the dervishes, and was callous to their sufferings, till we\nreached the palm plantation of the tribe of Hulal, when a boy of a tawny\ncomplexion issued from the Arab horde and sung such a plaintive melody\nas would arrest the bird in its flight through the air. I remarked the\nabid's camel that it kicked up and pranced, and, throwing the abid,\ndanced into the wilderness. I said: \"O reverend Shaikh! that spiritual\nstrain threw a brute into an ecstasy, and it is not in like manner\nworking a change in you!--Knowest thou what that nightingale of the dawn\nwhispered to me? What sort of man art thou, indeed, who art ignorant of\nlove?--The camel is in an ecstasy of delight from the Arab's song. If\nthou hast no taste to relish this, thou art a cross-grained brute.--Now\nthat the camel is elated with rapture and delight, if a man is\ninsensible to these he is an ass.--_The zephyr, gliding through the\nverdure on the earth, shakes the twig of the ban-tree, but moves not the\nsolid rock_.--Whatever thou beholdest is loud in extolling him. That\nheart which has an ear is full of the divine mystery. It is not the\nnightingale that alone serenades his rose; for every thorn on the\nrose-bush is a tongue in his or God's praise!\"\n\n\nXXVII\n\nA king had reached the end of his days and had no heir to succeed him.\nHe made his will, stating, \"You will place the crown of sovereignty upon\nthe head of whatever person first enters the city gate in the morning,\nand commit the kingdom to his charge.\" It happened that the first man\nthat presented himself at the city gate was a beggar, who had passed his\nwhole life in scraping broken meat and in patching rags. The ministers\nof state and nobles of the court fulfilled the conditions of the king's\nwill, and laid the keys of the treasury and citadel at his feet.\n\nFor a time the dervish governed the kingdom, till some of the chiefs of\nthe empire swerved from their allegiance, and the princes of the\nterritories on every side rose in opposition to him, and levied armies\nfor the contest. In short, his troops and subjects were routed and\nsubdued, and several of his provinces taken from him.\n\nThe dervish was hurt to the soul at these events, when one of his old\nfriends, who had been the companion of his state of poverty, returned\nfrom a journey and found him in such dignity. He exclaimed:\n\"Thanksgiving be to a Deity of majesty and glory that lofty fortune\nsuccored you and prosperity was your guide, till roses issued from your\nthorns and the thorns were extracted from your feet, and till you\narrived at this elevated rank!--_Along with hardship there is ease; or,\nto sorrow succeeds joy_.--The plant is at one season in flower and at\nanother withered; the tree is at one time naked and at another clothed\nwith leaves.\" He said: \"O, my dear friend, offer me condolence, for here\nis no place for congratulation. When you last saw me I had to think of\ngetting a crumb of bread; now I have the cares of a whole kingdom on my\nhead. If the world be adverse, we are the victims of pain; if\nprosperous, the fettered slaves of affection for it. Amidst this life no\ncalamity is more afflicting than that, whether fortunate or not, the\nmind is equally disquieted. If thou covetest riches, ask not but for\ncontentment, which is an immense treasure. Should a rich man throw money\ninto thy lap, take heed, and do not look upon it as a benefit; for I\nhave often heard from the great and good that the patience of the poor\nis more meritorious than the gift of the rich. Were King Bahram Ghor to\ndistribute a whole roasted elk, it would not be equal to the gift of a\nlocust's leg from an ant.\"\n\n\nXXVIII\n\nA person had a friend who was holding the office of king's divan, or\nprime minister, and it happened that he had not seen him for some time.\nSomebody remarked, saying, \"It is some time since you saw such a\ngentleman.\" He answered, \"I am no ways anxious about seeing him.\" One of\nthe divan's people chanced to be present. He asked, \"What has happened\namiss that you should dislike to visit him?\" He replied, \"There is no\ndislike; but my friend, the divan, can be seen at a time when he is out\nof office, and my idle intrusion might not come amiss.\" Amidst the state\npatronage and authority of office they might take umbrage at their\nacquaintance; but on the day of vexation and loss of place they would\nimpart their mental disquietudes to their friends.\n\n\nXXIX\n\nAbu-Horairah was making a daily visit to the prophet Mustafa Mohammed,\non whom be God's blessing and peace. He said: \"_O Abu-Horairah! let me\nalone every other day, that so affection may increase_; that is, come\nnot every day, that we may get more loving!\"\n\nThey said to a good and holy man, \"Notwithstanding all these charms\nwhich the sun commands, we have never heard of anybody that has fallen\nin love with him!\" He answered, \"It is because he is seen every day,\nunless during the winter, when he is veiled (in the clouds), and thus\nmuch coveted and loved.\"--To visit mankind has no blame in it, but not\nto such a degree as to let them say, Enough of it. If we see occasion to\ninterrogate ourselves, we need not listen to the reprehension of others.\n\n\nXXX\n\nHaving taken offence with the society of my friends at Damascus, I\nretired into the wilderness of the Holy Land, or Jerusalem, and sought\nthe company of brutes till such time as I was made a prisoner by the\nFranks, and employed by them, along with some Jews, in digging earth in\nthe ditches of Tripoli. At length one of the chiefs of Aleppo, between\nwhom and me an intimacy had of old subsisted, happening to pass that\nway, recognized me, and said, \"How is this? and how came you to be thus\noccupied?\" I replied: \"What can I say?--I was flying from mankind into\nthe forests and mountains, for my resource was in God and in none else.\nFancy to thyself what my condition must now be, when forced to associate\nwith a tribe scarcely human?--To be linked in a chain with a company of\nacquaintance were pleasanter than to walk in a garden with strangers.\"\n\nHe took pity on my situation; and, having for ten dinars redeemed me\nfrom captivity with the Franks, carried me along with him to Aleppo.\nHere he had a daughter, and her he gave me in marriage, with a dower of\na hundred dinars. Soon after this damsel turned out a termagant and\nvixen, and discovered such a perverse spirit and virulent tongue as\nquite unhinged all my domestic comfort.--A scolding wife in the dwelling\nof a peaceful man is his hell, even in this world. Protect and guard us\nagainst a wicked inmate. Save us, O Lord, and preserve us from the\nfiery, or hell, torture.\n\nHaving on one occasion given a liberty to the tongue of reproach, she\nwas saying, \"Are you not the fellow whom my father redeemed from the\ncaptivity of the Franks for ten dinars?\" I replied, \"Yes, I am that same\nhe delivered from captivity for ten dinars, and enslaved me with you for\na hundred!\" I have heard that a reverend and mighty man released a sheep\nfrom the paws and jaws of a wolf. That same night he was sticking a\nknife into its throat, when the spirit of the sheep reproached him,\nsaying, \"Thou didst deliver me from the clutches of a wolf, when I at\nlength saw that thou didst prove a wolf to me thyself.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXXXIII\n\nOne of the holy men of Syria had passed many years of devotion in the\nwilderness, and was feeding on the leaves of trees. The king of that\ncountry, in the way of a pilgrimage, visited him, and said, \"If you can\nsee the propriety of removing into my capital I will prepare an abode,\nwhere you may perform your devotions more at ease than in this place,\nand others may benefit by the blessing of your spiritual communion, and\nbe edified by the example of your pious labors.\" The hermit was adverse\nto this advice, and turned away his face. One of the king's ministers\nspoke to him, saying: \"For the satisfaction of his Majesty, it were\nproper that you would for a few days remove into the city, and ascertain\nthe nature of the place; when, if it should prove that your purity might\nbe tarnished by coming in contact with the wicked, you have still the\noption left of moving back.\"\n\nIt is reported that they prevailed on the hermit to accompany them into\nthe city; and, in a garden near the sacred residence of the king,\nprepared for him a dwelling, which, like the mansions of paradise, was\nrejoicing the heart, and exhilarating the soul.--Its damask roses were\nblooming as the cheeks of the lovely, and its tufted spikenard like the\nringlets of our mistresses. It had as much to fear from the angry blasts\nof winter as the babe who has not yet tasted its nurse's milk: _boughs\nof trees on which hung crimson flowers, that gleamed like a flame amidst\ntheir dusky foliage_.\n\nForthwith the king sent him a moon-faced damsel.--Such was this delicate\ncrescent of the moon, and fascination of the holy, this form of an\nangel, and decoration of a peacock, that let them once behold her, and\ncontinence must cease to exist in the constitutions of the chaste.\n\nAnd, in like manner, there followed her a youth of such rare beauty and\nexquisite symmetry, that the powerful grasp of his charms had broken the\nwrists of the pious, and tied up behind their backs the arms of the\nupright.--Mankind stand around him _parched with thirst, whilst he, who\nseems thy cup-bearer, will give thee no drink_.--The eye could not be\nsatiated by beholding him, like the dropsical man with water by looking\nat the river Euphrates.\n\nThe hermit began to relish dainty food, and to wear sumptuous apparel;\nto regale himself with fruits, perfumes, and sweetmeats; and to behold\nwith delight the charms of the handmaid and bondsman. And the wise have\nsaid, \"The ringlets of the lovely are a chain on the feet of reason, and\na snare for the bird of wisdom.\"--To the mystery of thy service I\ndevoted my heart, religion, and all my mental faculties; verily, I am\nnow the bird of reason, and thou art the lure and bait.\n\nIn short, the good fortune of his many years of sanctity ran to waste,\nas has been said:--\"Whatever he had laid up from theologician, sage, or\nsaint, or of recondite knowledge from the eloquent and pure of spirit,\nnow that he had stooped to mix with a vile world, like the feet of a fly\nhe got entangled in its honey.\"\n\nThe king had the curiosity of making him another visit, and found the\nhermit much altered from what he first saw of him. His face had become\nfair and ruddy, and his body plump and jolly; and he was reclining at\nhis ease on cushions of brocade, and had the Houri-like damsel lolling\nby his side, and the fairy-formed youth holding a fly-flap of peacock's\nfeathers in his hand, and standing by him in attendance. The king\ncongratulated him upon his portly appearance, and they entered together\nupon a variety of topics, till his majesty concluded by observing, \"In\nthis world I have an affection for these two orders of mankind, the\nlearned and the recluse.\" A philosophic vizir, and man of much worldly\nexperience, happened to be present. He said: \"O sire! such is the canon\nof affection that you should confer a benefit on each. Give money to the\nlearned man, that he may teach others; and give nothing to the hermit,\nthat he may remain an anchorite.--A zahid, or hermit, stands in need of\nneither diram nor dinar; when an anchorite takes either, look out for\nanother.--Whoever is virtuously disposed, and holds a mystical\ncommunication with God, is sufficient of a hermit without requiring the\nbread of charity, or the crumbs of mendicity. The tapering finger of the\nlovely, and her soul-deluding ear-lobe, are decoration enough without a\nturquoise ring or ear-jewel. Tell that piously-disposed and\nserene-minded dervish that he needs not the bread of consecration or\nscraping of beggary; tell that handsome and fair-faced matron that she\ndoes not require paint, coloring, or jewelry.--When I have of my own,\nand covet what is another's, if they esteem me not a hermit they treat\nme as I merit.\"\n\n\nXXXIV\n\nConformably with the above apologue, a king had a business of importance\nin hand. He said: \"If this affair prosper to my wish I will distribute\namong the recluses a certain sum in dirams.\" Now his object was\naccomplished, and mind made easy, he thought it incumbent to fulfil the\ncondition of his eleemosynary vow, and gave a bag of dinars to a\nfavorite servant, that he might distribute them among the anchorites.\nThis was a discreet and considerate young man. He wandered about for the\nwhole day; and, returning in the evening, kissed the bag of money, and\nlaid it before the king, saying, \"However much I sought after, I have\nmet with no recluses!\" The king answered, \"What a story is this? for I\nmyself know four hundred recluses within this city.\" He said, \"O\nsovereign of the universe! such as are recluses do not take money; and\nsuch as take money are not anchorites!\" The king smiled, and observed to\nhis courtiers, \"However much I reverence and favor this tribe of God's\nworshippers, this saucy fellow expresses for them a spite and ill-will;\nand, if you desire the truth, he has justice on his side. Instead of\nthat hermit who took dirams and dinars, get hold of one who is more an\nanchorite.\"\n\n\nXXXV\n\nThey asked a profoundly-learned man, saying, \"What is your opinion of\nconsecrated bread, or almstaking?\" He answered, \"If with the view of\ncomposing their minds, and promoting their devotions, it is lawful to\ntake it; but if monks collect for the sake of an endowment, it is\nforbidden. Good and holy men have received the bread of consecration for\nthe sake of religious retirement; and are not recluses, that they may\nreceive such bread.\"\n\n\nXXXVI\n\nA dervish came to put up at a place where the master of the house was a\ngentleman of an hospitable disposition. He had as his guests an assembly\nof learned and witty men, each of whom was repeating such a jest, or\nanecdote, as is usual with the facetious. Having travelled across a\ndesert, the dervish was much fatigued, and well-nigh famished. One of\nthe company observed, in the way of pleasantry, \"You must also repeat\nsomething.\" The dervish answered, \"I am not, like the others,\noverstocked with learning and wit, nor am I much read in books; and you\nmust be satisfied with my reciting one distich.\" One and all eagerly\ncried, \"Let us hear it.\" He said, \"Hungry as I am, I sit by a table\nspread with food, like a bachelor at the entrance of a bath full of\nwomen!\"\n\nThey applauded what he said, and ordered the tray to be placed before\nhim. The lord of the feast said, \"Stay your appetite, my friend! till my\nhandmaids can prepare for you some forced meat.\" He raised his head from\nthe tray, and answered, \"Say there is no need for forced meat on my\ntray, for a crust of plain bread is sufficient for one baked as I have\nbeen in the desert.\"\n\n\nXXXVII\n\nA disciple complained to his ghostly father, saying, \"What can I do, for\nI am much annoyed by the people, who are interrupting me with their\nfrequent visits, and break in upon my precious hours with their\nimpertinent intrusions.\" He replied, \"To such of them as are poor lend\nmoney, and from such as are rich ask some in loan; and neither of them\nwill trouble you again.\" Let a beggar be the harbinger of an army of\nIslam, or the orthodox, and the infidel will fly his importunity as far\nas the wall of China.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXXXIX\n\nA drunken fellow had lain down to sleep on the highway, and was quite\novercome with the fumes of intoxication. An abid was passing close by,\nand looking at him with scorn. The youth raised his head, and said,\n\"_Whenever they pass anything shameful they pass it with\ncompassion.--Whenever thou beholdest a sinner, hide and bear with his\ntransgressions: thou, who art aware of them, why not overlook my sins\nwith pity_?--Turn not away, O reverend sir! from a sinner; but look upon\nhim with compassion. Though in my actions I am not a hero, do thou pass\nby as the heroic would pass me.\"\n\n\nXL\n\nA gang of dissolute vagabonds broke in upon a dervish, used opprobrious\nlanguage, and beat and ill-used him. In his helplessness he carried his\ncomplaint before his ghostly father, and said, \"Thus it has befallen\nme.\" He replied: \"O my son! the patched cloak of dervishes is the\ngarment of resignation; whosoever wears this garb, and cannot bear with\ndisappointment, is a hypocrite, and to him our cloth is forbidden.--A\nvast and deep river is not rendered turbid by throwing into it a stone.\nThat religious man who can be vexed at an injury is as yet a shallow\nbrook.--If thou art subjected to trouble, bear with it; for by\nforgiveness thou art purified from sin. Seeing, O brother! that we are\nultimately to become dust, be humble as the dust, before thou moulderest\ninto dust.\"\n\n\nXLI\n\nHear what occurred once at Bagdad in a dispute that took place between a\nroll-up curtain and standard. Covered with the road-dust, and jaded with\na march, the standard, in reproach, observed to the curtain: \"Thou and I\nare gentlemen in livery; we are fellow-servants at the court of his\nmajesty. I never enjoy a moment's relief from duty; early and late I am\nequally marching. Thou hast never experienced any peril or a siege, the\nheavy sand of the desert or dust of a whirlwind; my foot is most forward\nin any enterprise. Then why art thou my superior in dignity? Thou art\ncared for by youths with faces splendid as the moon, and handled by\ndamsels scenting like jasmine; while I am fallen into the hands of raw\nrecruits, am rolled up on our march, and turned upside down.\" The\ncurtain answered: \"I lay my head humble at the threshold, and hold it\nnot up like thine, flaring in the face of heaven! Whoever is thus vainly\nrearing his crest exalts himself only to be humbled.\"\n\n\nXLII\n\nA good and holy man saw a huge and strong fellow, who, having got much\nenraged, was storming with passion and foaming at the mouth. He asked,\n\"What has happened to this man?\" Somebody answered, \"Such a one has\ngiven him bad names!\" He said, \"This paltry wretch is able to carry a\nthousand-weight of stone, and cannot bear with one light word! Cease to\nboast of thy strong arm and pretended manhood, infirm as thou art in\nmind, and mean in spirit. What difference is there between such a man\nand a woman? Though thou art strong of arm, let thy mouth utter sweet\nwords; it is no proof of courage to thrust thy fist into another man's\nface:--Though thou art able to tear the scalp off an elephant, if\ndeficient in humanity, thou art no hero. The sons of Adam are formed\nfrom dust; if not humble as the dust, they fall short of being men.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXLIV\n\nA facetious old gentleman of Bagdad gave his daughter in marriage to a\nshoemaker. The flint-hearted fellow bit so deeply into the damsel's lip\nthat the blood trickled from the wound. Next morning the father found\nher in this plight; he went up to his son-in-law, and asked him, saying:\n\"Lowborn wretch! what sort of teeth are these that thou shouldst chew\nher lips as if they were a piece of leather? I speak not in play what I\nhave to say. Lay jesting aside, and take with her thy legal\nenjoyment.--When once a vicious disposition has taken root in the habit,\nthe hand of death can only eradicate it.\"\n\n\nXLV\n\nA doctor of laws had a daughter preciously ugly, and she had reached the\nage of womanhood; but, notwithstanding her dowry and fortune, nobody\nseemed inclined to ask her in marriage:--Damask or brocade but add to\nher deformity when put upon a bride void of symmetry.\n\nIn short, they were under the necessity of uniting her in the bonds of\nwedlock to a blind man. They add, that soon after there arrived from\nSirandip, or Ceylon, a physician that could restore sight to the blind.\nThey spoke to the law doctor, saying, \"Why do you not get him to\nprescribe for your son-in-law?\" He answered: \"Because I am afraid he may\nrecover his sight, and repudiate my daughter; for--'the husband of an\nugly woman should be blind.'\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXLVIII\n\nThey asked a wise man which was preferable, munificence or courage? He\nanswered, \"Whoever has munificence has no need of courage.\" On the\ntombstone of Bahram-gor was inscribed: \"The hand of liberality is\nstronger than the arm of power.--Hatim Tayi remains not, yet will his\nexalted name live renowned for generosity to all eternity. Distribute\nthe tithe of thy wealth in alms, for the more the gardener prunes his\nvine the more he adds to his crop of grapes.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nOn the Preciousness of Contentment\n\n\nI\n\nA mendicant from the west of Africa had taken his station amidst a group\nof shopkeepers at Aleppo, and was saying: \"O lords of plenty! had ye a\njust sense of equity, and we of contentment, all manner of importunity\nwould cease in this world!\" O contentment! do thou make me rich, for\nwithout thee there is no wealth. The treasure of patience was the choice\nof Lucman. Whoever has no patience has no wisdom.\n\n\nII\n\nThere dwelt in Egypt two youths of noble birth, one of whom applied\nhimself to study knowledge, and the other to accumulate wealth. In\nprocess of time that became the wisest man of his age, and this king of\nEgypt. Then was the rich man casting an eye of scorn upon his\nphilosophic brother, and saying, \"I have reached a sovereignty, and you\nremain thus in a state of poverty.\" He replied: \"O brother! I am all the\nmore grateful for the bounty of a Most High God, whose name was\nglorified, that I have found the heritage of the prophets--namely,\nwisdom; and you have got the estate of Pharaoh and Haman--that is, the\nkingdom of Egypt. I am an emmet, that mankind shall tread under foot;\nnot a hornet, that they shall complain of my sting. How can I\nsufficiently express my grateful sense of this blessing, that I possess\nnot the means of injuring my fellow-creatures?\"\n\n\nIII\n\nI heard of a dervish who was consuming in the flame of want, tacking\npatch after patch upon his ragged garment, and solacing his mind with\nthis couplet:--\"I can rest content with a dry crust of bread and a\ncoarse woollen frock, for the burden of my own exertion bears lighter\nthan laying myself under obligation to another.\"--Somebody observed to\nhim, \"Why do you sit quiet, while a certain gentleman of this city is so\nnobly disposed and universally benevolent, that he has girt up his loins\nin the service of the religious independents, and seated himself by the\ndoor of their hearts? Were he apprised of your condition, he would\nesteem himself obliged, and be happy in the opportunity of relieving\nit.\" He said: \"Be silent; for it is better to die of want than to expose\nour necessities before another, as they have remarked:--'Patching a\ntattered cloak, and the consequent treasure of content, are more\ncommendable than petitioning the great for every new garment.'\" By my\ntroth, I swear it were equal to the torments of hell to enter into\nparadise through the interest of a neighbor.\n\n\nIV\n\nOne of the Persian kings sent a skilful physician to attend Mohammed\nMustafa, on whom be salutation. He remained some years in the territory\nof the Arabs; but nobody went to try his skill, or asked him for any\nmedicine. One day he presented himself before the blessed prince of\nprophets, and complained, saying, \"The king had sent me to dispense\nmedicine to your companions; but, till this moment, nobody has been so\ngood as to enable me to practise any skill that this your servant may\npossess.\" The blessed messenger of God was pleased to answer, saying,\n\"It is a rule with this tribe never to eat till hard pressed by hunger,\nand to discontinue their repast while they have yet an appetite.\" The\nphysician said, \"This accounts for their health.\" Then he kissed the\nearth of respect and took his leave. The physician will then begin to\ninculcate temperance, or to extend the finger of indulgence, when from\nsilence his patient might suffer by excess, or his life be endangered by\nabstinence:--of course, the skill of the physician is advice, and the\npatient's regimen and diet yield the fruits of health!\n\n\nV\n\nA certain person would be making vows of abstinence and breaking them.\nAt last a reverend gentleman observed to him, \"So I understand that you\nmake a practice of eating to excess; and that any restraint on your\nappetite, namely, this vow, is weaker than a hair, and this\nvoraciousness, as you indulge it, would break an iron chain; but the day\nmust come when it will destroy you.\" A man was rearing the whelp of a\nwolf; when full grown it tore its patron and master.\n\n\nVI\n\nIn the annals of Ardishir Babagan it is recorded that he asked an\nArabian physician, saying, \"What quantity of food ought to be eaten\ndaily?\" He replied, \"A hundred dirams' weight were sufficient.\" The king\nsaid, \"What strength can a man derive from so small a quantity?\" The\nphysician replied: \"_So much can support you; but in whatever you exceed\nthat you must support it_.--Eating is for the purpose of living, and\nspeaking in praise of God; but thou believest that we live only to eat.\"\n\n\nVII\n\nTwo dervishes of Khorasan were fellow-companions on a journey. One was\nso spare and moderate that he would break his fast only every other\nnight, and the other so robust and intemperate that he ate three meals a\nday. It happened that they were taken up at the gate of a city on\nsuspicion of being spies, and both together put into a place, the\nentrance of which was built up with mud. After a fortnight it was\ndiscovered that they were innocent, when, on breaking open the door,\nthey found the strong man dead, and the weak one alive and well. They\nwere astonished at this circumstance. A wise man said, \"The contrary of\nthis had been strange, for this one was a voracious eater, and not\nhaving strength to support a want of food, perished; and that other was\nabstemious, and being patient, according to his habitual practice,\nsurvived it.--When a person is habitually temperate, and a hardship\nshall cross him, he will get over it with ease; but if he has pampered\nhis body and lived in luxury, and shall get into straitened\ncircumstances, he must perish.\"\n\n\nVIII\n\nA certain philosopher admonished his son against eating to an excess,\nbecause repletion made a man sick. The boy answered, \"O father, hunger\nwill kill. Have you not heard what the wits have remarked, To die of a\nsurfeit were better than to bear with a craving appetite?\" The father\nsaid, \"Study moderation, for the Most High God has told us in the\nKoran:--'_Eat ye and drink ye, but not to an excess_:'--eat not so\nvoraciously that the food shall be regorged from thy mouth, nor so\nabstemiously that from depletion life shall desert thee:--though food be\nthe means of preserving breath in the body. Yet, if taken to excess, it\nwill prove noxious. If conserve of roses be frequently indulged in it\nwill cause a surfeit, whereas a crust of bread, eaten after a long\ninterval, will relish like conserve of roses.\"\n\n\nXI\n\nIn a battle with the Tartars, a gallant young man was grievously\nwounded. Somebody said to him, \"A certain merchant has a stock of the\nmummy antidote; if you would ask him, he might perhaps accommodate you\nwith a portion of it.\" They say that merchant was so notorious for his\nstinginess, that--\"If, in the place of his loaf of bread, the orb of the\nsun had been in his wallet, nobody would have seen daylight in the world\ntill the day of judgment.\"\n\nThe spirited youth replied: \"Were I to ask him for this antidote, he\nmight give it, or he might not; and if he did it might cure me, or it\nmight not; at any rate, to ask such a man were itself a deadly poison!\"\nWhatever thou wouldst ask of the mean, in obligation, might add to the\nbody, but would take from the soul.--And philosophers have observed,\nthat were the water of immortality, for example, to be sold at the\nprice of the reputation, a wise man would not buy it, for an honorable\ndeath is preferable to a life of infamy.--Wert thou to eat colocynth\nfrom the hand of the kind-hearted, it would relish better than a\nsweetmeat from that of the crabbed.\n\n\nXII\n\nOne of the learned had a large family and small means. He stated his\ncase to a great man, who entertained a favorable opinion of his\ncharacter. This one turned away from his solicitation, and viewed this\nprostitution of begging as discreditable with a gentleman of education.\nIf soured by misfortune, present not thyself before a dear friend, for\nthou may'st also imbitter his pleasure. When thou bringest forward a\ndistress, do it with a cheerful and smiling face, for an openness of\ncountenance can never retard business.--They have related that he rose a\nlittle in the pension, but sunk much in the estimation of the great man.\nAfter some days, when he perceived this falling off in his affection, he\nsaid:--\"_Miserable is that supply of food which thou obtainest in the\nhour of need; the pot is put to boil, but my reputation is bubbled into\nvapor_.--He added to my means of subsistence, but took from my\nreputation; absolute starving were better than the disgrace of begging.\"\n\n\nXIII\n\nA dervish had a pressing call for money. Somebody told him a certain\nperson is inconceivably rich; were he made aware of your want, he would\nsomehow manage to accommodate it. He said, \"I do not know him.\" The\nother answered, \"I will introduce you;\" and having taken his hand, he\nbrought him to that person's dwelling. The dervish beheld a man with a\nhanging lip, and sitting in sullen discontent. He said nothing, and\nreturned home. His friend asked, \"What have you done?\" He replied, \"His\ngift I gave in exchange for his look:--Lay not thy words before a man\nwith a sour face, otherwise thou may'st be ruffled by his ill-nature. If\nthou tellest the sorrows of thy heart let it be to him in whose\ncountenance thou may'st be assured of prompt consolation.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXV\n\nThey asked Hatim Tayi: \"Have you ever met, or heard of, a person of a\nmore independent spirit than yourself?\" He answered: \"Yes, one day I had\nmade a sacrifice of forty camels, and invited the chief of every Arab\ntribe to a feast. Then I repaired to the border of the desert, where I\nmet a wood-cutter, who had tied up his fagot to carry it into the city.\nI said, Why do you not go to the feast of Hatim, where a crowd have\nassembled round his carpet? He replied:--'Whoever can eat the bread of\nhis own industry will not lay himself under obligation to Hatim\nTayi.'--And in him I met my superior in spirit and independence.\"\n\n\nXVI\n\nThe Prophet Moses, on whom be peace, saw a dervish who had buried his\nbody, in his want of clothes to cover it, in the sand. He said: \"O\nMoses, put up a prayer, that the Most High God would bestow a\nsubsistence upon me, for I am perishing in distress.\" The blessed Moses\nprayed accordingly, that God on high would succor him.\n\nSome days afterwards, as he was returning from a conference with God on\nMount Sinai, he met that dervish in the hands of justice, and a mob\nfollowing him. He asked: \"What has befallen this man?\" They answered:\n\"He had drunk wine and got into a quarrel, and having killed somebody,\nthey are now going to exact retaliation.\"--The God who set forth the\nseven climates of this world assigned to every creature its appropriate\nlot. Had that wretched cat been gifted with wings, she would not have\nleft one sparrow's egg on the earth. It might happen that were a weak\nman to get the ability, he would rise and domineer over his weak\nbrethren.\n\nThe blessed Moses acknowledged the wisdom of the Creator of the\nuniverse, and, confessing his own presumption, repeated this verse of\nthe Koran:--\"_Were God to spread abroad his stores of subsistence to\nservants, verily they would rebel all over the earth._\" What happened, O\nvain man! that thou didst precipitate thyself into destruction? Would\nthat the ant might not have the means of flying!--A mean person, when\nhe has got rank and wealth, will bring a storm of blows upon his head.\nWas not this at last the adage of a philosopher, 'That ant is best\ndisposed of that has no wings.'--The father is a man of much sweetness\nof disposition, but the son is full of heat and passions:--That Being,\nGod, who would not make thee rich, must have known thy good better than\nthou couldst thyself know it.\n\n\nXVII\n\nI saw an Arab, who was standing amidst a circle of jewellers at Busrah,\nand saying: \"On one occasion I had missed my way in the desert, and\nhaving no road-provision left, I had given myself up for lost, when all\nat once I found a bag of pearls. Never shall I forget that relish and\ndelight, so long as I mistook them for parched wheat; nor that\nbitterness and disappointment, when I discovered that they were real\npearls.\" In the mouth of the thirsty traveller, amidst parched deserts\nand moving sands, pearl, or mother-of-pearl, were equally distasteful.\nTo a man without provision, and knocked up in the desert, a piece of\nstone or of gold, in his scrip, is all one.\n\n\nXVIII\n\nAn Arab, suffering under all the extremity of thirst in the desert, was\nsaying:--\"_Would to God that yet, before I perish, I could but for one\nday gratify my wish: that a stream of water might dash against my knees,\nand I could fill my leathern flask or stomach with it_.\"\n\nIn like manner a traveller had got bewildered in the great desert, and\nhad neither provisions nor strength left, yet a few dirams remained with\nhim in his scrip. He kept wandering about, but could not find the path,\nand sunk under his fatigue. A party of travellers arrived where his body\nlay; they saw the dirams spread before him, and these verses written in\nthe sand:--\"Were he possessed of all the gold of Jafier (a famous gold\nrefiner), a man without food could not satisfy his appetite. To a\nwretched mendicant, parched in the desert, a boiled turnip would relish\nbetter than an ingot of virgin silver.\"\n\n\nXIX\n\nI had never complained of the vicissitudes of fortune, nor murmured at\nthe ordinances of heaven, excepting on one occasion, that my feet were\nbare, and I had not wherewithal to shoe them. In this desponding state I\nentered the metropolitan mosque at Cufah, and there I beheld a man that\nhad no feet. I offered up praise and thanksgiving for God's goodness to\nmyself, and submitted with patience to my want of shoes.--In the eye of\none satiated with meat a roast fowl is less esteemed at his table than a\nsalad; but to him who is stinted of food a boiled turnip will relish\nlike a roast fowl.\n\n\nXX\n\nA king, attended by a select retinue, had, on a sporting excursion\nduring the winter, got at a distance from any of his hunting seats, and\nthe evening was closing fast, when they espied from afar a peasant's\ncottage. The king said: \"Let us repair thither for the night, that we\nmay shelter ourselves from the inclemency of the weather.\" One of the\ncourtiers replied: \"It would not become the dignity of the sovereign to\ntake refuge in the cottage of a low peasant; we can pitch a tent here\nand kindle a fire.\" The peasant saw what was passing; he came forward\nwith what refreshments he had at hand, and, laying them before the king,\nkissed the earth of subserviency, and said: \"The lofty dignity of the\nking would not be lowered by this condescension; but these gentlemen did\nnot choose that the condition of a peasant should be exalted.\" The king\nwas pleased with this speech; and they passed the night at his cottage.\nIn the morning he bestowed an honorary dress and handsome largess upon\nhim. I have heard that the peasant was resting his hand for some paces\nupon the king's stirrup, and saying: \"The state and pomp of the\nsovereign suffered no degradation by his condescension in becoming a\nguest at the cottage of a peasant; but the corner of the peasant's cap\nrose to a level with the sun when the shadow of such a monarch as thou\nart fell upon his head.\"\n\n\nXXI\n\nThey tell a story of an importunate mendicant who had amassed much\nriches. A certain king said: \"It seems that you possess immense wealth,\nand I have a business of some consequence in hand. If you will assist me\nwith a little of it, by way of a loan, when the public revenue is\nrealized I will repay it and thank you to the bargain.\" He replied: \"O\nsire, it would ill become the sublime majesty of the sovereign of the\nuniverse to soil the hand of lofty enterprise with the property of such\na mendicant as I am, which I have scraped together grain by grain.\" He\nsaid: \"There is no occasion to vex yourself, for I mean it for the\nTartars, as impurities are suiting for the impure:--_They said, 'The\ncompost of a dunghill is unclean.' We replied, 'That with it we will\nfill up the chinks of a necessary_.'--If the water of a Christian's well\nis defiled, and we wash a Jew's corpse in it, there is no sin.\" I have\nheard that he disobeyed the royal command, questioned its justice, and\nresisted it with insolence. The king ordered that the exchequer\nstipulations should be put in force with rigidness and violence. When a\nbusiness cannot be settled with fair words, we must of necessity make\nuse of foul. When a man will not contribute of his own free will, if\nanother enforces him he meets his desert.\n\n\nXXII\n\nI knew a merchant who had a hundred and fifty camels of burden and forty\nbondsmen and servants in his train. One night he entertained me at his\nlodgings in the island of Keish, in the Persian Gulf, and continued for\nthe whole night talking idly, and saying: \"Such a store of goods I have\nin Turkestan, and such an assortment of merchandise in Hindustan; this\nis the mortgage-deed of a certain estate, and this the security-bond of\na certain individual's concern.\" Then he would say: \"I have a mind to\nvisit Alexandria, the air of which is salubrious; but that cannot be,\nfor the Mediterranean Sea is boisterous. O Sa'di! I have one more\njourney in view, and, that once accomplished, I will pass my remaining\nlife in retirement and leave off trade.\" I asked: \"What journey is\nthat?\" He replied: \"I will carry the sulphur of Persia to Chin, where,\nI have heard, it will fetch a high price; thence I will take China\nporcelain to Greece; the brocade of Greece or Venice I will carry to\nIndia; and Indian steel I will bring to Aleppo; the glassware of Aleppo\nI will take to Yamin; and with the bardimani, or striped stuffs, of\nYamin I will return to Persia. After that I will give up foreign\ncommerce and settle myself in a warehouse.\" He went on in this\nmelancholy strain till he was quite exhausted with speaking. He said: \"O\nSa'di! do you too relate what you have seen and heard.\" I\nreplied:--\"Hast thou not heard that in the desert of Ghor as the body of\na chief merchant fell exhausted from his camel, he said, 'Either\ncontentment or the dust of the grave will fill the stingy eye of the\nworldly-minded.'\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXXIV\n\nA weak fisherman got a strong fish into his net, but not having the\npower of mastering it, the fish got the better of him, and, dragging the\nnet from his hand, escaped:--A bondsman went that he might take water\nfrom the brook; the brook came to rise and carried off the bondsman. On\nmost occasions the net would bring out the fish; on this occasion the\nfish escaped, and took away the net. The other fishermen expressed their\nvexation, and reproached him, saying, \"Such a fish came into your net,\nand you were not able to master it.\" He replied: \"Alas! my brethren,\nwhat could be done? It was not my day of fortune, and the fish had in\nthis way another day left it. And they have said: 'Unless it be his lot,\nthe fisherman cannot catch a fish in the Tigris; and, except it be its\nfate, the fish will not die on the dry shore.'\"\n\n\nXXV\n\nA person without hands or feet killed a milleped. A good and holy man\npassed by him at the time, and said: \"Glory be to God! notwithstanding\nthe thousand feet he had when his destiny overtook him, he was unable to\nescape from one destitute of hand or foot.\"--When the life-plundering\nfoe comes up behind, fate arrests the speed of the swift-going warrior.\nAt the moment when the enemy might approach step by step it were useless\nto bend the kayani, or Parthian bow.\n\n\nXXVI\n\nI met a fat blockhead decked in rich apparel, and mounted on an Arab\nhorse, with a turban of fine Egyptian linen on his head. A person said:\n\"O Sa'di, how comes it that you see these garments of the learned on\nthis ignorant beast?\" I replied: \"It is a vile epistle which has been\nwritten in golden letters:--'_Verily this ass, with the resemblance of a\nman, has the carcase of a calf, and the voice or bleating of a\ncalf_.'--Thou canst not say that this brute appears like a man, unless\nin his garments, turban, and outward form. Examine into all the ways and\nmeans of his existence, and thou shalt find nothing lawful but the\nshedding of his blood:--though a man of noble birth be reduced to\npoverty, imagine not that his lofty dignity can be lowered; and though\nhe may secure his silver threshold with a hasp of gold, conclude not\nthat a Jew can be thereby ennobled.\"\n\n\nXXVII\n\nA thief said to a mendicant: \"Are you not ashamed when you hold forth\nyour hand to every mean fellow for a barleycorn of silver?\" He replied:\n\"It is better to hold forth the hand for one grain of silver than to\nhave it cut off for one and a half dang.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXXIX\n\nI saw a dervish who had withdrawn into a cave, shut the door of\ncommunication between the world and himself, and with his lofty and\nindependent eye viewed emperors and kings without awe or\nreverence:--Whoever opens to himself the door of mendicity, must\ncontinue a beggar till the day of his death. Put covetousness aside, and\nbe independent as a prince; the neck of contentment can raise its head\nerect.\n\nOne of the sovereigns of those parts sent a message to him, stating: \"So\nfar I can rely on the generous disposition of his reverence, that he\nwill one day favor me by partaking of my bread and salt, by becoming my\nguest.\" The shaikh, or holy man, consented; for the acceptance of such\nan invitation accorded with the sunnat, or law and tradition of the\nprophet. Next day the king went to apologize for the trouble he had\ncaused him. The abid rose from his place, took the king in his arms,\nshowed him much kindness, and was full of his compliments. After he was\ngone, one of the shaikh's companions asked him, saying: \"Was not such\ncondescending kindness as you this day showed the king contrary to what\nis usual; what does this mean?\" He answered: \"Have you not heard what\nthey have said:--'It is proper to stand up and administer to him whom\nthou hast seated on thy carpet, or made thy guest.'\"\n\nHe could so manage that, during his whole life, his ear should not\nindulge in the music of the tabor, cymbal, and pipe. He could restrain\nhis eyes from enjoying the garden, and gratify his sense of smell\nwithout the rose or narcissus. Though he had not a pillow stuffed with\ndown, he could compose himself to rest with a stone under his head;\nthough he had no heart-solacer as the partner of his bed, he could hug\nhimself to sleep with his arms across his breast. If he could not ride\nan ambling nag, he was content to take his walk on foot; only this\ngrumbling and vile belly he could not keep under, without stuffing it\nwith food.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nOn the Benefit of Being Silent\n\n\nI\n\nI spoke to one of my friends, saying: \"A prudent restraint on my words\nis on that account advisable, because in conversation there on most\noccasions occur good and bad; and the eyes of rivals only note what is\nbad.\" He replied: \"O brother! that is our best rival who does not, or\nwill not, see our good!--_The malignant brotherhood pass not by the\nvirtuous man without imputing to him what is infamous_:--To the eye of\nenmity, virtue appears the ugliest blemish; it is a rose, O Sa'di! which\nto the eyes of our rivals seems a thorn. The world-illuminating\nbrilliancy of the fountain of the sun, in like manner, appears dim to\nthe eye of the purblind mole.\"\n\n\nII\n\nA merchant happened to lose a thousand dinars. He said to his son: \"It\nwill be prudent not to mention this loss to anybody.\" The son answered:\n\"O father, it is your orders, and I shall not mention it; but\ncommunicate the benefit so far, as what the policy may be in keeping it\na secret.\" He said: \"That I may not suffer two evils: one, the loss of\nmy money; another, the reproach of my neighbor;--Impart not thy\ngrievances to rivals, for they are glad at heart, while praying, _God\npreserve us_; or _there is neither strength nor power, unless it be from\nGod!_\"\n\n\nIII\n\nA sensible youth made vast progress in the arts and sciences, and was of\na docile disposition; but however much he frequented the societies of\nthe learned, they never could get him to utter a word. On one occasion\nhis father said: \"O my son, why do not you also say what you know on\nthis subject?\" He replied: \"I am afraid lest they question me upon what\nI know not, and put me to shame:--Hast thou not heard of a Sufi who was\nhammering some nails into the sole of his sandal. An officer of cavalry\ntook him by the sleeve, saying, 'Come along, and shoe my horse.'--So\nlong as thou art silent and quiet, nobody will meddle with thy business;\nbut once thou divulgest it, be ready with thy proofs.\"\n\n\nIV\n\nA man, respectable for his learning, got into a discussion with an\natheist; but, failing to convince him, he threw down his shield and\nfled. A person asked him, \"With all your wisdom and address, learning\nand science, how came you not to controvert an infidel?\" He replied: \"My\nlearning is the Koran, and the traditions and sayings of our holy\nfathers; but he puts no faith in the articles of our belief, and what\ngood could it do to listen to his blasphemy?\" To him whom thou canst not\nconvince by revelation or tradition, the best answer is that thou shalt\nnot answer him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nVI\n\nThey have esteemed Sahban Wabil as unrivalled in eloquence, insomuch\nthat he could speak for a year before an assembly, and would not use the\nsame word twice; or should he chance to repeat it, he would give it a\ndifferent signification; and this is one of the special accomplishments\nof a courtier:--Though a speech be captivating and sweet, worthy of\nbelief, and meriting applause, yet what thou hast once delivered thou\nmust not repeat, for if they eat a sweetmeat once they find that enough.\n\n\nVII\n\nI overheard a sage, who was remarking: \"Never has anybody acknowledged\nhis own ignorance, excepting that person who, while another may be\ntalking, and has not finished what he has to say, will begin\nspeaking:--A speech, O wiseacre! has a beginning and an end; bring not\none speech into the middle of another. A man of judgment, discretion,\nand prudence, delivers not his speech till he find an interval of\nsilence.\"\n\n\nVIII\n\nSome of the courtiers of Sultan Mahmud asked Husan Maimandi, saying:\n\"What did the king whisper to you to-day on a certain state affair?\" He\nsaid: \"You are also acquainted with it.\" They replied: \"You are the\nprime minister; what the king tells you, he does not think proper to\ncommunicate to such as we are.\" He replied: \"He communicates with me in\nthe confidence that I will not divulge to anybody; then why do you ask\nme?\" A man of sense blabs not, whatever he may come to know; he should\nnot make his own head the forfeit of the king's secret.\n\n\nIX\n\nI was hesitating about the purchase of a dwelling-house. A Jew said: \"I\nam an old housekeeper in this street: ask the character of this house\nfrom me and buy it, for it has no fault.\" I replied: \"True! only that\nyou are its neighbor:--Any such house as has thee for its neighbor could\nscarce be worth ten dirams of silver; yet it should behoove us to hope\nthat after thy death it may fetch a thousand.\"\n\n\nX\n\nA certain poet presented himself before the chief of a gang of robbers,\nand recited a casidah, or elegy, in his praise. He ordered that they\nshould strip off his clothes, and thrust him from the village. The naked\nwretch was going away shivering in the cold, and the village dogs were\nbarking at his heels. He stooped to pick up a stone, in order to shy at\nthe dogs, but found the earth frost-bound, and was disappointed. He\nexclaimed: \"What rogues these villagers are, for they let loose their\ndogs, and tie up their stones!\" The chief robber saw and overheard him\nfrom a window. He smiled at his wit, and, calling him near said: \"O\nlearned sir! ask me for a boon.\" He replied, \"I ask for my own garments,\nif you will vouchsafe to give them:--_I shall have enough of boons in\nyour suffering me to depart_.--Mankind expects charity from others; I\nexpect no charity from thee, only do me no injury.\" The chief robber\nfelt compassion for him. He ordered his clothes to be restored, and\nadded to them a robe of fur and sum of money.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXII\n\nA preacher of a harsh tone of voice fancied himself a fine-spoken man,\nand would hold forth at the mosque to a very idle purpose. You might say\nthat the croaking of the raven of the desert was the burden of his\nchant, and this text of the Koran expressive of his manner:--_The most\nabominable of noises is the braying of an ass:--\"Whenever this ass of a\npreacher sets up a braying, his voice will make the city of Istakhar, or\nPersepolis, shake to its base_.\"\n\nIn reverence of his rank his townsmen indulged this defect, and would\nnot distress him by remarking on it, till another preacher of those\nparts, actuated by a private pique, came on one occasion to tantalize\nhim, and said, \"I have seen you in a dream; may it prove fortunate!\" He\nasked: \"What have you seen?\" He replied: \"So it seemed in my vision that\nyour voice had become harmonious, and mankind were charmed with your\nmelodious cadences.\" For a while the preacher bowed his head in thought,\nthen raised it, and said: \"What a fortunate vision is it that you had,\nthat has made me sensible of my weakness! I am now aware that I have an\nunpleasant voice, and that the people are distressed at my delivery. I\nhave vowed that I will henceforth preach only in a soft tone of voice.\"\nI am distressed with the society of friends who extol my vices into\nvirtues, my blemishes they view as excellences and perfections, my\nthorns they regard as roses and jasmines. Where is that rude and bold\nrival who will expose all my deformities?\n\n\nXIII\n\nAt a mosque in the city of Sanjar, the capital of Khorasan, a person was\nvolunteering to chant forth the call to prayers with so discordant a\nnote as to drive all that heard him away in disgust. The intendant of\nthat mosque was a just and well-disposed gentleman, who was averse to\ngiving offence to anybody. He said: \"O generous youth, there belong to\nthis mosque some mowuzzins, or criers, of long standing, to each of\nwhom I allow a monthly stipend of five dinars; now I will give you ten\nto go elsewhere.\" To this he agreed, and took himself off. After a while\nhe came to the nobleman, and said: \"O my lord! you did me an injury when\nfor ten dinars you prevailed upon me to quit this station, for where I\nwent they offered me twenty to remove to another place, but I would not\nconsent.\" The nobleman smiled and replied: \"Take heed, and do not accept\nthem, for they may be content to give you fifty!--No person can with a\nmattock scrape off the clay from the face of a hard rock in so grating a\nmanner as thy harsh voice is harrowing up my soul.\"\n\n\nXIV\n\nA person with a harsh voice was reciting the Koran in a loud tone. A\ngood and holy man went up to him, and asked: \"What is your monthly\nstipend?\" He answered, \"Nothing.\" \"Then,\" added he, \"why give yourself\nso much trouble?\" He said: \"I am reading for the sake of God.\" The good\nand holy man replied: \"For God's sake do not read:--for if thou chantest\nthe Koran after this manner, thou must cast a shade over the glory of\nIslamism or Mussulman orthodoxy.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nOn Love and Youth\n\n\nI\n\nThey asked Husan Maimandi: \"How comes it that Sultan Mahmud, who has so\nmany handsome bondswomen, each of whom is the wonder of the world and\nmost select of the age, entertains not such fondness and affection for\nany of them as he does for Ayaz, who can boast of no superiority of\ncharms?\" He replied: \"Whatever makes an impression on the heart seems\nlovely in the eye. That person of whom the sultan makes choice must be\naltogether good, though a compendium of vice; but where he is estranged\nfrom the favor of the king none of the household will think of courting\nhim.\" Were a person to view it with a fastidious eye, the form of a\nJoseph might seem a deformity; but let him look with desire on a demon,\nand he will appear like an angel and cherub.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nIII\n\nI saw a parsa, or holy man, so enamoured of a lovely person that he had\nneither fortitude to bear with, nor resolution to declare, his passion:\nand, however much he was the object of remark and censure, he would not\nforego this infatuation, and was saying:--\"I quit not my hold on the\nskirt of thy garment, though thou may'st verily smite me with a sharp\nsword. Besides thee I have neither asylum nor defence; if I am to flee,\nI must take refuge with thee.\"\n\nOn one occasion I reproached him, and said: \"What is become of your\nprecious reason, that a vile passion should thus master you?\" He made a\nshort pause, and replied:--\"Wherever the king of love came, he left no\nroom for the strong arm of chastity. How can that wretch live undefiled\nwho has fallen in a quagmire up to the neck?\"\n\n\nIV\n\nA certain person had lost his heart and abandoned himself to despair.\nThe object of his desire was not such a dainty that he could gratify his\npalate with it, or a bird that he could lure it into his net, but a\nfrightful precipice and overwhelming whirlpool:--When thy gold attracts\nnot the charmer's eye, dust or gold is of equal value with thee.\n\nHis friends admonished him, saying: \"Put aside this vain fancy, for\nmultitudes are in the durance and chains of this same passion which you\nare cherishing.\" He sighed aloud, and replied: \"Say to my friends, Do\nnot admonish me, for my eye is fixed on the wish of her. With strength\nof wrist and power of shoulders warriors overwhelm their antagonists and\ncharmers their lovers.\" Nor can it be consistent with the condition of\nlove that any thought of life should divert the heart from affection for\nits mistress:--Thou, who art the slave of thine own precious self,\nplayest false in the affairs of love. If thou canst not make good a\npassage to thy mistress, it is the duty of a lover to perish in the\nattempt.--I persist when policy is no longer left me, though the enemy\nmay cover me all over with the wounds of swords and arrows. If I can\nreach her I will seize her sleeve, or at all events proceed and die at\nher threshold.\n\nHis kindred, whose business it was to watch over his concerns, and to\npity his misfortunes, gave him advice, and put upon him restraints, but\nall to no good purpose:--The physician is, alas! prescribing\nbitter-aloes, and his depraved appetite is craving sweetmeats!--Heardest\nthou what a charmer was saying in a whisper to one who had lost his\nheart to her: \"So long as thou maintainest thine own dignity, of what\nvalue can my dignity appear in thine eye?\"\n\nThey informed the princess who was the object of his infatuation,\nsaying: \"A youth of an amiable disposition and sweet flow of tongue is\nfrequent in his attendance at the top of this plain; and we hear him\ndelivering brilliant speeches and wonderful sallies of wit; it would\nseem that he has a mystery in his head and a flame in his heart, for he\nappears to be distractedly in love.\" The princess was aware that she had\nbecome the object of his attachment, and that this whirlwind of calamity\nwas raised by himself, and spurred her horse toward him. Now that the\nyouth saw that it was the princess' intention to approach him, he wept,\nand said:--\"That personage who inflicted upon me a mortal wound again\npresented herself before me; perhaps she took compassion upon her own\nvictim.\" However, kindly she spoke, and asked, saying: \"Who are you, and\nwhence come you? what is your name, and what your calling?\" the youth\nwas so entirely overwhelmed in the ocean of love and passion that he\nabsolutely could not utter a word:--\"Couldst thou in fact repeat the\nseven Saba, or whole Koran by heart, if distracted with love, thou\nwouldst forget the alphabet\":--the princess continued: \"Why do you not\nanswer me? for I too am one of the sect of dervishes, nay, I am their\nmost devoted slave.\" On the strength of this sympathizing encouragement\nof his beloved, the youth raised his head amidst the buffeting waves of\ntempestuous passion, and answered:--\"It is strange that with thee\npresent I should remain in existence; that after thou camest to talk, I\nshould have speech left me.\"--This he said, and, uttering a loud groan,\nsurrendered his soul up to God:--No wonder if he died by the door of his\nbeloved's tent; the wonder was, if alive, how he could have brought his\nlife back in safety.\n\n\nV\n\nA boy at school possessed much loveliness of person and sweetness of\nconversation; and the master, from the frailty of human nature, was\nenamoured of his blooming skin. Like his other scholars, he would not\nadmonish and correct him, but when he found him in a corner he would\nwhisper in his ear:--\"I am not, O celestial creature! so occupied with\nthee, that I am harboring in my mind a thought of myself. Were I to\nperceive an arrow coming right into it, I could not shut my eye from\ncontemplating thee.\"\n\nOn one occasion the boy said: \"In like manner, as you inspect my duties,\nalso animadvert on my tendency to vice, in order that if you discern any\nimmorality in my behavior, which has met my own approbation, you can\nwarn me against it, that I may correct it.\" He replied: \"O my child!\npropose this task to somebody else; for the light in which I view you\nreflects nothing but virtue.\" That malignant eye, let it be plucked out\nin whose sight his virtue can seem vice. Hadst thou but one perfection\nand seventy faults, the lover could discern only that one perfection.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nVII\n\nA person who had not seen his friend for a length of time, said to him:\n\"Where were you? for I have been very solicitous about you.\" He replied,\n\"It is better to be sought after than loathed.\" Thou hast come late, O\nintoxicating idol! I shall not in a hurry quit my hold on thy\nskirt:--that mistress whom they see but seldom is at last more desired\nthan she is whom they are cloyed with seeing.\n\nThe charmer that can bring companions along with her has come to\nquarrel; for she cannot be void of jealousy and discontent:--_Whenever\nthou contest to visit me attended with comrades or rivals, though thou\ncomest in peace yet thy object is hostile_:--for one single moment that\nmy mistress associated with a rival, it went well-nigh to slay me with\njealousy. Smiling, she replied: \"O Sa'di! I am the torch of the\nassembly; what is it to me if the moth consume itself?\"\n\n\nVIII\n\nIn former times, I recollect, a friend and I were associating together\nlike two kernels within one almond shell. I happened unexpectedly to go\non a journey. After some time, when I was returned, he began to chide\nme, saying: \"During this long interval you never sent me a messenger.\" I\nreplied: \"It vexed me to think that the eyes of a courier should be\nenlightened by your countenance, whilst I was debarred that\nhappiness:--Tell my old charmer not to impose a vow upon me with her\ntongue; for I would not repent, were she to attempt it with a sword.\nEnvy stings me to the quick, lest another should be satiated with\nbeholding thee, till I recollect myself, and say: Nobody can have a\nsatiety of that!\"\n\n\nIX\n\nI saw a learned gentleman the captive of attachment for a certain\nperson, and the victim of his reproach; and he would suffer much\nviolence, and bear it with great patience. On one occasion I said, by\nway of admonition: \"I know that in your attachment for this person you\nhave no bad object, and that this friendship rests not on any criminal\ndesign; yet, under this interpretation, it accords not with the dignity\nof the learned to expose yourself to calumny, and put up with the\nrudeness of the rabble.\" He replied: \"O my friend, withdraw the hand of\nreproach from the skirt of my fatality, for I have frequently reflected\non this advice which you offer me, and find it easier to suffer\ncontumely on his account than to forego his company; and philosophers\nhave said: 'It is less arduous to persist in the labor of courting than\nto restrain the eye from contemplating a beloved object':--Whoever\ndevotes his heart to a soul deluder puts his beard or reputation into\nthe hands of another. That person, without whom thou canst not exist, if\nhe do thee a violence, thou must bear with it. The antelope, that is led\nby a string, cannot bound from this side to that. One day I asked a\ncompact of my mistress; how often have I since that day craved her\nforgiveness! A lover exacts not terms of his charmer; I relinquished my\nheart to whatever she desired me, whether to call me up to her with\nkindness, or drive me from her with harshness she knows best, or it is\nher pleasure.\"\n\n\nX\n\nIn my early youth such an event (as you know) will come to pass. I held\na mystery and intercourse with a young person, because he had a pipe of\nexquisite melody, and a form silver bright as the full moon:--\"He is\nsipping the fountain of immortality, who may taste the down of his\ncheek; and he is eating a sweetmeat, who can fancy the sugar of his\nlips.\"\n\nIt happened that something in his behavior having displeased me, I\nwithdrew the skirt of communication, and removed the seal of my\naffection from him, and said: \"Go, and take what course best suits thee;\nthou regardest not my counsel, follow thine own.\" I overheard him as he\nwas going, and saying:--\"If the bat does not relish the company of the\nsun, the all-current brilliancy of that luminary can suffer no\ndiminution.\" He so expressed himself and departed, and his vagabond\ncondition much distressed me:--_the opportunity of enjoyment was lost,\nand a man is insensible to the relish of prosperity till he_ _has\ntasted adversity_:--return and slay me, for to die before thy face were\nfar more pleasant than to survive in thy absence.\n\nBut, thanksgiving and praise to the Almighty, he did not return till\nafter some interval, when that melodious pipe of David was cracked, and\nthat handsome form of Joseph in its wane; when that apple his chin was\novergrown with hair, like a quince, and the all-current lustre of his\ncharms tarnished. He expected me to fold him in my arms; but I took\nmyself aside and said: \"When the down of loveliness flourished on thy\ncheek, thou drovest the lord of thy attractions from thy sight; now thou\nhast come to court his peace when thy face is thick set with fathahs and\nzammahs, or the bristles of a beard:--The verdant foliage of thy spring\nis turned yellow; place not thy kettle on my grate, for its fire is\ncooled. How long wilt thou display this pomp and vanity; hopest thou to\nregain thy former dominion? Make thy court to such as desire thee, sport\nthy airs on such as will hire thee:--The verdure of the garden, they\nhave told us, is charming; that person (Sa'di) knows it who is relating\nthat story; or, in other words, that the fresh-shooting down on their\ncharmers' cheeks is what the hearts of their admirers chiefly\ncovet:--Thy garden is like a bed of chives: the more thou croppest it,\nthe more it will shoot:--Last year thou didst depart smooth as an\nantelope, to-day thou art returned bearded like a pard. Sa'di admires\nthe fresh-shooting down, not when each hair is stiff as a\npacking-needle:--Whether thou hast patience with thy beard, or weed it\nfrom thy face, this happy season of youth must come to a conclusion. Had\nI the same command of life as thou hast of beard, it should not escape\nme till doomsday.\" I asked him and said: \"What has become of the beauty\nof thy countenance, that a beard has sprung up round the orb of the\nmoon?\" He answered: \"I know not what has befallen my face, unless it has\nput on black to mourn its departed charms.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXII\n\nThey shut up a parrot in the same cage with a crow. The parrot was\naffronted at his ugly look, and said: \"What an odious visage is this, a\nhideous figure; what an accursed appearance, and ungracious\ndemeanor!--_Would to God, O raven of the desert! we were wide apart\nas the east is from the west_:--The serenity of his peaceful day would\nchange into the gloom of night, who on issuing forth in the morning\nmight cross thy aspect. An ill-conditioned wretch like thyself should be\nthy companion; but where could we find such another in the world?\"\n\nBut what is more strange, the crow was also out of all patience, and\nvexed to the soul at the society of the parrot. Bewailing his\nmisfortune, he was railing at the revolutions of the skies; and,\nwringing the hands of chagrin, was lamenting his condition, and saying:\n\"What an unpropitious fate is this; what ill-luck, and untoward fortune!\nCould they any way suit the dignity of me, who would in my day strut\nwith my fellow-crows along the wall of a garden:--It were durance\nsufficient for a good and holy man that he should be made the companion\nof the wicked:--What sin have I committed that my stars in retribution\nof it have linked me in the chain of companionship, and immured me in\nthe dungeon of calamity, with a conceited blockhead, and\ngood-for-nothing babbler:--Nobody will approach the foot of a wall on\nwhich they have painted thy portrait; wert thou to get a residence in\nparadise, others would go in preference to hell.\"\n\nI have introduced this parable to show that however much learned men\ndespise the ignorant, these are a hundredfold more scornful of the\nlearned:--A zahid, or holy man, fell in company with some wandering\nminstrels. One of them, a charmer of Balkh, said to him: \"If thou art\ndispleased with us, do not look sour, for thou art already sufficiently\noffensive.--An assemblage is formed of roses and tulips, and thou art\nstuck up amidst them like a withered stalk; like an opposing storm, and\na chilling winter blast; like a ball of snow, or lump of ice.\"\n\n\nXIII\n\nI had an associate, who was for years the companion of my travels,\npartook of the same bread and salt, and enjoyed the many rights of a\nconfirmed friendship. At last, on some trifling advantage, he gave me\ncause of umbrage, and our intimacy ceased. And notwithstanding all this,\nthere was a hankering of good-will on both sides; in consequence of\nwhich I heard that he was one day reciting in a certain assembly these\ntwo couplets of my writings:--\"When my idol, or mistress, is\napproaching me with her tantalizing smiles, she is sprinkling more salt\nupon my smarting sores. How fortunate were the tips of her ringlets to\ncome into my hand, like the sleeve of the generous in the hands of\ndervishes.\" This society of his friends bore testimony, and gave\napplause, not to the beauty of this sentiment, but to the liberality of\nhis own disposition in quoting it; while he had himself been extravagant\nin his encomiums, regretted the demise of our former attachment, and\nconfessed how much he was to blame. I was made aware that he too was\ndesirous of a reconciliation; and, having sent him these couplets, made\nmy peace:--\"Was there not a treaty of good faith between us, and didst\nnot thou commence hostilities, and violate the compact? I relinquished\nall manner of society, and plighted my heart to thee; for I did not\nsuspect that thou wouldst have so readily changed. If it still be thy\nwish to renew our peace, return, and be more dear to me than ever.\"\n\n\nXIV\n\nA man had a beautiful wife, who died; but the mother, a decrepit old\ndotard, remained a fixture in his house, because of the dowry. He was\nteased to death by her company; but, from the circumstance of the dower,\nhe had no remedy. In the meantime some of his friends having come to\ncomfort him, one of them asked: \"How is it with you, since the loss of\nthat dear friend?\" He answered: \"The absence of my wife is not so\nintolerable as the presence of her mother:--They plucked the rose, and\nleft me the thorn; they plundered the treasure, and let the snake\nremain. To have our eye pierced with a spear were more tolerable than to\nsee the face of an enemy. It were better to break with a thousand\nfriends than to put up with one rival.\"\n\n\nXV\n\nIn my youth I recollect I was passing through a street, and caught a\nglimpse of a moon-like charmer during the dog-days, when their heat was\ndrying up the moisture of the mouth, and the samurn, or desert hot-wind,\nmelting the marrow of the bones. From the weakness of human nature I was\nunable to withstand the darting rays of a noon-tide sun, and took\nrefuge under the shadow of a wall, hopeful that somebody would relieve\nme from the oppressive heat of summer, and quench the fire of my thirst\nwith a draught of water. All at once I beheld a luminary in the shadowed\nportico of a mansion, so splendid an object that the tongue of eloquence\nfalls short in summing up its loveliness; such as the day dawning upon a\ndark night, or the fountain of immortality issuing from chaos. She held\nin her hand a goblet of snow-cooled water, into which she dropped some\nsugar, and tempered it with spirit of wine; but I know not whether she\nscented it with attar, or sprinkled it with a few blossoms from her own\nrosy cheek. In short, I received the beverage from her idol-fair hand;\nand, having drunk it off, found myself restored to a new life. \"_Such is\nnot my parching thirst that it is to be quenched with the limpid element\nof water, were I to swallow it in oceans_:--Joy to that happy aspect\nwhose eye can every morning contemplate such a countenance as thine. A\nperson intoxicated with wine lies giddy and awake half the night; but if\nintoxicated with the cup-bearer (God), the day of judgment must be his\ndawn or morning.\"\n\n\nXVI\n\nIn the year that Sultan Mohammed Khowarazm-Shah had for some political\nreason chosen to make peace with the king of Khota, I entered the\nmetropolitan mosque at Kashghar, and met a youth incomparably lovely,\nand exquisitely handsome; such as they have mentioned in resemblance of\nhim:--\"Thy master instructed thee in every bold and captivating grace;\nhe taught thee coquetry and confidence, tyranny and violence.\" I have\nseen no mortal with such a form and temper, stateliness and manner;\nperhaps he learned these fascinating ways from an angel.\n\nHe held the introduction of the Zamakhshari Arabic grammar in his hand,\nand was repeating:--\"Zaraba Zaidun Amranwa--Zaid beat Amru and is the\nassailant of Amru.\" I said: \"O my son! the Khowarazm and Khatayi\nsovereigns have made peace, and does war thus subsist between Zaid and\nAmru?\" He smiled, and asked me the place of my nativity. I answered:\n\"The territory of Shiraz.\" He said: \"Do you recollect any of Sa'di's\ncompositions?\" I replied: \"_I am enamoured with the reader of the\nsyntax, who, taking offence, assails me in like manner as Zaid does\nAmru. And Zaid, when read Zaidin, cannot raise his head; and how canst\nthou give a zammah to a word accented with a kasrah_?\"\n\nHe reflected a little within himself, and said: \"In these parts we have\nmuch of Sa'di's compositions in the Persian language; if you will speak\nin that dialect we shall more readily comprehend you, for _you should\naddress mankind according to their capacities_.\"\n\nI replied: \"Whilst thy passion was that of studying grammar, all trace\nof reason was erased from our hearts. Yes! the lover's heart is fallen a\nprey to thy snare: we are occupied about thee, and thou art taken up\nwith Amru and Zaid.\"\n\nOn the morrow, which had been fixed on as the period of our stay, some\nof my fellow-travellers had perhaps told him such a one is Sa'di; for I\nsaw that he came running up, and expressed his affection and regret,\nsaying: \"Why did you not during all this time tell us that a certain\nperson is Sa'di, that I might have shown my gratitude by offering my\nservice to your reverence.\" I answered: \"In thy presence I cannot even\nsay that I am I!\"--He said: \"How good it were if you would tarry here\nfor a few days, that we might devote ourselves to your service.\" I\nreplied: \"That cannot be, as this adventure will explain to you:--In the\nhilly region I saw a great and holy man, who was content in living\nretired from the world in a cavern. I said: 'Why dost thou not come into\nthe city, that thy heart might be relieved from a load of servitude?' He\nreplied: 'In it there dwell some wonderful and angel-faced charmers, and\nwhere the path is miry, elephants may find it slippery.'--Having\ndelivered this speech, we kissed each other's head and face, and took\nour leaves:--What profits it to kiss our mistress's cheek, and with the\nsame breath to bid her adieu. Thou mightest say that the apple had taken\nleave of its friends by having this cheek red and that cheek\nyellow:--_Were I not to die of grief on that day I say farewell, thou\nwouldst charge me with being insincere in my attachments_.\"\n\n\nXVII\n\nA ragged dervish accompanied us along with the caravan for Hijaz, and a\ncertain Arab prince presented him with a hundred dinars for the support\nof his family. Suddenly a gang of Khafachah robbers attacked the\ncaravan, and completely stripped it. The merchants set up a weeping and\nwailing, and made much useless lamentation and complaint:--\"Whether thou\nsupplicatest them, or whether thou complainest, the robbers will not\nreturn thee their plunder\":--all but that ragged wretch, who stood\ncollected within himself, and unmoved by this adventure. I said:\n\"Perhaps they did not plunder you of that money?\" He replied: \"Yes, they\ntook it; but I was not so fond of my pet as to break my heart at parting\nwith it. We should not fix our heart so on any thing or being as to find\nany difficulty in removing it.\"\n\nI said: \"What you have remarked corresponds precisely with what once\nbefell myself; for in my juvenile days I took a liking to a young man,\nand so sincere was my attachment that the Cabah, or fane, of my eye was\nhis perfect beauty, and the profit of this life's traffic his\nmuch-coveted society:--Perhaps the angels might in paradise, otherwise\nno living form can on this earth display such a loveliness of person. By\nfriendship I swear that after his demise all loving intercourse is\nforbidden; for no human emanation can stand a comparison with him.\n\n\"All at once the foot of his existence stumbled at the grave of\nannihilation; and the sigh of separation burst from the dwelling of his\nfamily. For many days I sat a fixture at his tomb, and, of the many\ndirges I composed upon his demise, this is one:--'On that day, when thy\nfoot was pierced with the thorn of death, would to God the hand of fate\nhad cloven my head with the sword of destruction, that my eyes might not\nthis day have witnessed the world without thee. Such am I, seated at the\nhead of thy dust, as the ashes are seated on my own:--whoever could not\ntake his rest and sleep till they first had spread a bed of roses and\nnarcissuses for him: the whirlwind of the sky has scattered the roses of\nhis cheek, and brambles and thorns are shooting from his grave.'\n\n\"After my separation from him I came to a steady and firm\ndetermination, that during my remaining life I would fold up the carpet\nof enjoyment, and never re-enter the gay circle of society:--Were it not\nfor the dread of its waves, much would be the profits of a voyage at\nsea; were it not for the vexation of the thorn, charming might be the\nsociety of the rose. Yesterday I was walking stately as a peacock in the\ngarden of enjoyment; to-day I am writhing like a snake from the absence\nof my mistress.\"\n\n\nXVIII.\n\nTo a certain king of Arabia they were relating the story of Laila and\nMujnun, and his insane state, saying: \"Notwithstanding his knowledge and\nwisdom, he has turned his face towards the desert, and abandoned himself\nto distraction.\" The king ordered that they bring him into his presence;\nand he reproved him, and spoke, saying: \"What have you seen unworthy in\nthe noble nature of man that you should assume the manners of a brute,\nand forsake the enjoyment of human society?\"\n\nMujnun wept and answered:--\"_Many of my friends reproach me for my love\nof her, namely Laila. Alas! that they could one day see her, that my\nexcuse might be manifest for me!_--Would to God that such as blame me\ncould behold thy face, O thou ravisher of hearts! that at the sight of\nthee they might, from inadvertency, cut their own fingers instead of the\norange in their hands:--Then might the truth of the reality bear\ntestimony against the semblance of fiction, _what manner of person that\nwas for whose sake you were upbraiding me_.\"\n\nThe king resolved within himself, on viewing in person the charms of\nLaila, that he might be able to judge what her form could be which had\ncaused all this misery, and ordered her to be produced in his presence.\nHaving searched through the Arab tribes, they discovered and presented\nher before the king in the courtyard of his seraglio. He viewed her\nfigure, and beheld a person of a tawny complexion and feeble frame of\nbody. She appeared to him in a contemptible light, inasmuch as the\nlowest menial in his harem, or seraglio, surpassed her in beauty and\nexcelled her in elegance. Mujnun, in his sagacity, penetrated what was\npassing in the royal mind, and said: \"It would behoove you, O king, to\ncontemplate the charms of Laila through the wicket of a Mujnun's eye,\nin order that the miracle of such a spectacle might be illustrated to\nyou. Thou canst have no fellow-feeling for my disorder; a companion to\nsuit me must have the self-same malady, that I may sit by him the\nlivelong day repeating my tale; for by rubbing two pieces of dry\nfire-wood one upon another they will burn all the brighter:--_had that\ngrove of verdant reeds heard the murmurings of love which in detail of\nmy mistress's story have passed through my ear, it would somehow have\nsympathised in my pain. Tell it, O my friends, to such as are ignorant\nof love; would ye could be aware of what wrings me to the soul_:--the\nanguish of a wound is not known to the hale and sound; we must detail\nour aches only to a fellow-sufferer. It were idle to talk of a hornet to\nhim who has never during his life smarted from its sting. Till thy\ncondition may in some sort resemble mine, my state will seem to thee an\nidle fable. Compare not my pain with that of another man; he holds salt\nin his hand, but I hold it on a wounded limb.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXX\n\nThere was a handsome and well-disposed young man, who was embarked in a\nvessel with a lovely damsel. I have read that, sailing on the mighty\ndeep, they fell together into a whirlpool. When the pilot came to offer\nhim assistance, saying: \"God forbid that he should perish in that\ndistress,\" he was answering from the midst of that overwhelming vortex:\n\"Leave me, and take the hand of my beloved!\" The whole world admired him\nfor this speech which, as he was expiring, he was heard to make. Learn\nnot the tale of love from that faithless wretch who can neglect his\nbeloved when exposed to danger. In this manner ended the lives of those\nlovers. Listen to what has happened, that you may understand; for Sa'di\nknows the ways and forms of courtship as well as the Tazi, or modern\nArabic, is understood at Bagdad. Devote your whole heart to the\nheart-consoler you have chosen (namely, God), and let your eyes be shut\nto the whole world beside. Were Laila and Mujnun to return into life,\nthey might read the history of love in this chapter.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nOf Imbecility and Old Age\n\n\nI\n\nIn the metropolitan mosque at Damascus I was engaged in a disputation\nwith some learned men, when a youth suddenly entered the door, and said:\n\"Does any of you understand the Persian language?\" They directed him to\nme, and I answered: \"It is true.\" He continued: \"An old man of a hundred\nand fifty years of age is in the agonies of death, and is uttering\nsomething in the Persian language, which we do not understand. If you\nwill have the goodness to go to him you may get rewarded; for he\npossibly may be dictating his will.\" When I sat down by his bedside I\nheard him reciting:--\"I said, I will enjoy myself for a few moments.\nAlas! that my soul took the path of departure. Alas! at the variegated\ntable of life I partook a few mouthfuls, and the fates said, enough!\"\n\nI explained the signification of these lines in Arabic to the Syrians.\nThey were astonished that, at his advanced time of life, he should\nexpress himself so solicitous about a worldly existence. I asked him:\n\"How do you now find yourself?\" He replied: \"What shall I say?--Hast\nthou never witnessed what torture that man suffers from whose jaw they\nare extracting a tooth? Fancy to thyself how excruciating is his pain\nfrom whose precious body they are tearing an existence!\"\n\nI said: \"Banish all thoughts of death from your mind, and let not doubt\nundermine your constitution; for the Greek philosophers have remarked\nthat although our temperaments are vigorous, that is no proof of a long\nlife; and that although our sickness is dangerous, that is no positive\nsign of immediate dissolution. If you will give me leave, I will call in\na physician to prescribe some medicine that may cure you.\" He replied:\n\"Alas! alas! The landlord thinks of refreshing the paintings of his\nhall, and the house is tottering to its foundation. The physician smites\nthe hands of despair when he sees the aged fallen in pieces like a\npotsherd; the old man bemoans himself in the agony of death while the\nold attendant nurse is anointing him with sandal-wood. When the\nequipoise of the temperament is overset, neither amulets nor medicaments\ncan do any good.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nIII\n\nIn the territory of Diarbekr, or Mesopotamia, I was the guest of an old\nman, who was very rich, and had a handsome son. One night he told a\nstory, saying: \"During my whole life I never had any child but this boy.\nAnd in this valley a certain tree is a place of pilgrimage, where people\ngo to supplicate their wants; and many was the night that I have\nbesought God at the foot of that tree before he would bestow upon me\nthis boy.\" I have heard that the son was also whispering his companions,\nand saying: \"How happy I should be if I could discover the site of that\ntree, in order that I might pray for the death of my father.\" The\ngentleman was rejoicing and saying: \"What a sensible youth is my son!\"\nand the boy was complaining and crying: \"What a tedious old dotard is my\nfather!\" Many years are passing over thy head, during which thou didst\nnot visit thy father's tomb. What pious oblation didst thou make to the\nmanes of a parent that thou shouldst expect so much from thy son?\n\n\nIV\n\nUrged one day by the pride of youthful vanity, I had made a forced\nmarch, and in the evening found myself exhausted at the bottom of an\nacclivity. A feeble old man, who had deliberately followed the pace of\nthe caravan, came up to me and said: \"How come you to lie down here? Get\nup, this is no fit place for rest.\" I replied: \"How can I proceed, who\nhave not a foot to stand on?\" He said: \"Have you not heard what the\nprudent have remarked? 'Going on, and halting, is better than running\nahead and breaking down!' Ye who wish to reach the end of your journey,\nhurry not on; practise my advice, and learn deliberation. The Arab horse\nmakes a few stretches at full speed, and is broken down; while the\ncamel, at its deliberate pace, travels on night and day, and gets to the\nend of his journey.\"\n\n\nV\n\nAn active, merry, cheerful, and sweet-spoken youth was for a length of\ntime in the circle of my society, whose heart had never known sorrow,\nnor his lip ceased from being on a smile. An age had passed, during\nwhich we had not chanced to meet. When I next saw him he had taken to\nhimself a wife, and got a family; and the root of his enjoyment was torn\nup, and the rose of his mirth blasted. I asked him: \"How is this?\" He\nreplied: \"Since I became a father of children, I ceased to play the\nchild:--Now thou art old, relinquish childishness, and leave it to the\nyoung to indulge in play and merriment. Expect not the sprightliness of\nyouth from the aged; for the stream that ran by can never return. Now\nthat the corn is ripe for the sickle, it rears not its head as when\ngreen and shooting. The season of youth has slipt through my hands;\nalas! when I think on those heart-exhilarating days! The lion has lost\nthe sturdy grasp of his paw: I must now put up, like a lynx, with a bit\nof cheese. An old woman had stained her gray locks black. I said to her:\nO, my antiquated dame! thy hair I admit thou canst turn dark by art, but\nthou never canst make thy crooked back straight.\"\n\n\nVI\n\nOne day, in the perverseness of youth, I spoke with asperity to my\nmother. Vexed at heart, she sat down in a corner, and with tears in her\neyes was saying: \"You have perhaps forgot the days of infancy, that you\nare speaking to me thus harshly.--How well did an old woman observe to\nher own son, when she saw him powerful as a tiger, and formidable as an\nelephant: 'Couldst thou call to mind those days of thy infancy when\nhelpless thou wouldst cling to this my bosom, thou wouldst not thus\nassail me with savage fury, now thou art a lion-like hero, and I am a\npoor old woman.'\"\n\n\nVII\n\nA rich miser had a son who was grievously sick. His well-wishers and\nfriends spoke to him, saying: \"It were proper that you either read the\nKoran throughout or offer an animal in sacrifice, in order that the Most\nHigh God may restore him to health.\" After a short reflection within\nhimself he answered, \"It is better to read the Koran, which is ready at\nhand; and my herds are at a distance.\" A good and holy man heard this\nand remarked: \"He makes choice of the reading part because the Koran\nslips glibly over the tongue, but his money is to be wrung from the soul\nof him. Fie upon that readiness to bow the head in prayer; would that\nthe hand of charity could accompany it! In bestowing a dinar he will\nstickle like an ass in the mire; but ask him to read the Al-hamdi, or\nfirst chapter of the Koran, and he will recite it a hundred times.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nOf the Impressions of Education\n\n\nI\n\nA certain nobleman had a dunce of a son. He sent him to a learned man,\nsaying: \"Verily you will give instruction to this youth, peradventure he\nmay become a rational being.\" He continued to give him lessons for some\ntime, but they made no impression upon him, when he sent a message to\nthe father, saying: \"This son is not getting wise, and he has well-nigh\nmade me a fool!\" Where the innate capacity is good, education may make\nan impression upon it; but no furbisher knows how to give a polish to\niron which is of a bad temper. Wash a dog seven times in the ocean, and\nso long as he is wet he is all the filthier. Were they to take the ass\nof Jesus to Mecca, on his return from that pilgrimage he would still be\nan ass.\n\n\nII\n\nA philosopher was exhorting his children and saying: \"O emanations of my\nsoul, acquire knowledge, as no reliance can be placed on worldly riches\nand possessions, for once you leave home rank is of no use, and gold and\nsilver on a journey are exposed to the risk either of thieves plundering\nthem at once, or of the owner wasting them by degrees; but knowledge is\na perennial spring and ever-during fortune. Were a professional man to\nlose his fortune, he need not feel regret, for his knowledge is of\nitself a mine of wealth. Wherever he may sojourn the learned man will\nmeet respect, and be ushered into the upper seat, whilst the ignorant\nman must put up with offal and suffer want:--If thou covet the paternal\nheritage, acquire thy father's knowledge, for this thy father's wealth\nthou may'st squander in ten days. After having been in authority, it is\nhard to obey; after having been fondled with caresses, to put up with\nmen's violence:--There once occurred an insurrection in Syria, and\neverybody forsook his former peaceful abode. The sons of peasants, who\nwere men of learning, came to be employed as the ministers of kings; and\nthe children of noblemen, of bankrupt understandings, went a begging\nfrom village to village.\"\n\n\nIII\n\nA certain learned man was superintending the education of a king's son;\nand he was chastising him without mercy, and reproving him with\nasperity. The boy, out of all patience, complained to the king his\nfather, and laid bare before him his much-bruised body. The king was\nmuch offended, and sending for the master, said: \"You do not treat the\nchildren of my meanest subject with the harshness and cruelty you do my\nboy; what do you mean by this?\" He replied: \"To think before they speak,\nand to deliberate before they act, are duties incumbent upon all\nmankind, and more immediately upon kings; because whatever may drop from\ntheir hands and tongue, the special deed or word will somehow become the\nsubject of public animadversion; whereas any act or remark of the\ncommonalty attracts not such notice:--Let a dervish, or poor man, commit\na hundred indiscretions, and his companions will not notice one out of\nthe hundred; and let a king but utter one foolish word, and it will be\nechoed from kingdom to kingdom:--therefore in forming the morals of\nyoung princes, more pains are to be taken than with the sons of the\nvulgar. Whoever was not taught good manners in his boyhood, fortune will\nforsake him when he becomes a man. Thou may'st bend the green bough as\nthou likest; but let it once get dry, and it will require heat to\nstraighten it:--'_Verily thou may'st bend the tender branch, but it were\nlabor lost to attempt making straight a crooked billet_.'\"\n\nThe king greatly approved of this ingenious detail, and the wholesome\ncourse of discipline of the learned doctor; and, bestowing upon him a\ndress and largess, raised him one step in his rank as a nobleman!\n\n\nIV\n\nIn the west of Africa I saw a schoolmaster of a sour aspect and bitter\nspeech, crabbed, misanthropic, beggarly, and intemperate, insomuch that\nthe sight of him would derange the ecstasies of the orthodox; and his\nmanner of reading the Koran cast a gloom over the minds of the pious. A\nnumber of handsome boys and lovely virgins were subject to his despotic\nsway, who had neither the permission of a smile nor the option of a\nword, for this moment he would smite the silver cheek of one of them\nwith his hand, and the next put the crystalline legs of another in the\nstocks. In short their parents, I heard, were made aware of a part of\nhis disloyal violence, and beat and drove him from his charge. And they\nmade over his school to a peaceable creature, so pious, meek, simple,\nand good-natured that he never spoke till forced to do so, nor would he\nutter a word that could offend anybody. The children forgot that awe in\nwhich they had held their first master, and remarking the angelic\ndisposition of their second master, they became one after another as\nwicked as devils; and relying on his clemency, they would so neglect\ntheir studies as to pass most part of their time at play, and break the\ntablets of their unfinished tasks over each other's heads:--\"When the\nschoolmaster relaxes in his discipline, the children will stop to play\nat marbles in the market-place.\"\n\nA fortnight after I passed by the gate of that mosque and saw the first\nschoolmaster, with whom they had been obliged to make friends, and to\nrestore him to his place. I was in truth offended, and calling on God to\nwitness, asked, saying: \"Why have they again made a devil the preceptor\nof angels?\" A facetious old gentleman, who had seen much of life,\nlistened to me and replied: \"Have you not heard what they have said:--A\nking sent his son to school, and hung a tablet of silver round his neck.\nOn the face of that tablet he had written in golden letters: 'The\nseverity of the master is more useful than the indulgence of the\nfather.'\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nVI\n\nA king gave his son into the charge of a preceptor, and said: \"This is\nyour child, educate him as you would one of your own.\" For some years he\nlabored in teaching him, but to no good purpose; whilst the sons of the\npreceptor excelled in eloquence and knowledge. The king blamed the\nlearned man, and remonstrated with him, saying: \"You have violated your\ntrust, and infringed the terms of your engagement.\" He replied: \"O king,\nthe education is the same, but their capacities are different!\" Though\nsilver and gold are extracted from stones, yet it is not in every stone\nthat gold and silver are found. The Sohail, or star Canopus, is shedding\nhis rays all over the globe. In one place he produces common leather, in\nanother, or in Yamin, that called Adim, or perfumed.\n\n\nVII\n\nI heard a certain learned senior observing to a disciple:--\"If the sons\nof Adam were as solicitous after Providence, or God, as they are after\ntheir means of sustenance, their places in Paradise would surpass those\nof the angels.\" God did not overlook thee in that state when thou wert a\nsenseless embryo in thy mother's womb. He bestowed upon thee a soul,\nreason, temper, intellect, symmetry, speech, judgment, understanding,\nand reflection. He accommodated thy hands with ten fingers, and\nsuspended two arms from thy shoulders. Canst thou now suppose, O\ngood-for-nothing wretch, that he will forget to provide thy daily bread?\n\n\nVIII\n\nI observed an Arab who was informing his son:--\"_O my child, God will\nask thee on the day of judgment: What hast thou done in this life? but\nhe will not inquire of thee: Whence didst thou derive thy origin?_\" That\nis, they (or God) will ask, saying: \"What are your works?\" But he will\nnot question you, saying: \"Who is your father?\" The covering of the\nCaabah at Mecca, which the pilgrims kiss from devotion, is not prized\nfrom its being the fabric of a silk-worm; for a while it associated with\na venerable friend, and became, in consequence, venerable like him.\n\n\nIX\n\nThey have related in the books of philosophers that scorpions are not\nbrought forth according to the common course of nature, as other animals\nare, but that they eat their way through their mother's wombs, tear open\ntheir bellies, and thus make themselves a passage into the world; and\nthat the fragments of skin which we find in scorpions' holes corroborate\nthis fact. On one occasion I was stating this strange event to a good\nand great man, when he answered: \"My heart is bearing testimony to the\ntruth of this remark; nor can it be otherwise, for as they have thus\nbehaved towards their parents in their youth, so they are approved and\nbeloved in their riper years.\" On his death-bed a father exhorted his\nson, saying: \"O generous youth, keep in mind this maxim: 'Whoever is\nungrateful to his own kindred cannot hope that fortune shall befriend\nhim.'\"\n\n\nX\n\nThey asked a scorpion: \"Why do you not make your appearance during the\nwinter?\" It answered: \"What is my character in the summer that I should\ncome abroad also in the winter?\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXIII\n\nOne year a dissension arose among the foot-travellers on a pilgrimage to\nMecca, and the author (Sa'di) was also a pedestrian among them. In\ntruth, we fell head and ears together, and accusation and recrimination\nwere bandied from all sides. I overheard a kajawah, or gentleman, riding\non one side of a camel-litter, observing to his adil, or opposite\ncompanion: \"How strange that the ivory piyadah, or pawns, on reaching\nthe top of the shatranj, or chess-board, become fazzin, or queens; that\nis, they get rank, or become better than they were; and the piyadah, or\npawns, of the pilgrimage--that is, our foot-pilgrims--have crossed the\ndesert and become worse.\" Say from me to that haji, or pilgrim, the pest\nof his fellow-pilgrims, that he lacerates the skin of mankind by his\ncontention. Thou art not a real pilgrim, but that meek camel is one who\nis feeding on thorns and patient under its burden.\n\n\nXIV\n\nA Hindu, or Indian, was teaching the art of playing off fireworks. A\nphilosopher observed to him: \"This is an unfit sport for you, whose\ndwelling is made of straw.\" Utter not a word till thou knowest that it\nis the mirror of what is correct; and do not put a question where thou\nknowest that the answer must be unfavorable.\n\n\nXV\n\nA fellow had a complaint in his eyes, and went to a horse-doctor,\nsaying: \"Prescribe something for me.\" The doctor of horses applied to\nhis eyes what he was in the habit of applying to the eyes of quadrupeds,\nand the man got blind. They carried their complaint before the hakim, or\njudge. He decreed: \"This man has no redress, for had he not been an ass\nhe would not have applied to a horse or ass doctor!\" The moral of this\napologue is, that whoever doth employ an inexperienced person on an\naffair of importance, besides being brought to shame, he will incur from\nthe wise the imputation of a weak mind. A prudent man, with an\nenlightened understanding, entrusts not affairs of consequence to one of\nmean capacity. The plaiter of mats, notwithstanding he be a weaver, they\nwould not employ in a silk manufactory.\n\n\nXVI\n\nA certain great Imaam had a worthy son, and he died. They asked him,\nsaying: \"What shall we inscribe upon the urn at his tomb.\" He replied:\n\"Verses of the holy Koran are of such superior reverence and dignity\nthat they should not be written in places where time might efface,\nmankind tread upon, or dogs defile them; yet, if an epitaph be\nnecessary, let these two couplets suffice:--I said: 'Alas! how grateful\nit was proving to my heart, so long as the verdure of thy existence\nmight flourish in the garden.' He replied: 'O my friend, have patience\ntill the return of the spring, and thou may'st again see roses\nblossoming on my bosom, or shooting from my dust.'\"\n\n\nXVII\n\nA holy man was passing by a wealthy personage's mansion, and saw him\nwith a slave tied up by the hands and feet, and giving him chastisement.\nHe said: \"O my son! God Almighty has made a creature like yourself\nsubject to your command, and has given you a superiority over him.\nRender thanksgiving to the Most High Judge, and deal not with him so\nsavagely; lest hereafter, on the day of judgment, he may prove the more\nworthy of the two, and you be put to shame:--Be not so enraged with thy\nbondsman; torture not his body, nor harrow up his heart. Thou mightest\nbuy him for ten dinars, but hadst not after all the power of creating\nhim:--To what length will this authority, pride, and insolence hurry\nthee; there is a Master mightier than thou art. Yes, thou art a lord of\nslaves and vassals, but do not forget thine own Lord Paramount--namely,\nGod!\" There is a tradition of the prophet Mohammed, on whom be blessing,\nannouncing:--On the day of resurrection, that will be the most\nmortifying event when the good slave will be taken up to heaven, and the\nwicked master sent down to hell:--\"Upon the bondsman, who is subservient\nto thy command, wreak not thy rage and boundless displeasure. For it\nmust be disgraceful on the day of reckoning to find the slave at liberty\nand the master in bondage.\"\n\n\nXVIII\n\nOne year I was on a journey with some Syrians from Balkh, and the road\nwas infested with robbers. One of our escort was a youth expert at\nwielding his shield and brandishing his spear, mighty as an elephant,\nand cased in armor, so strong that ten of the most powerful of us could\nnot string his bow, or the ablest wrestler on the face of the earth\nthrow him on his back. Yet, as you must know, he had been brought up in\nluxury and reared in a shade, was inexperienced of the world, and had\nnever travelled. The thunder of the great war-drum had never rattled in\nhis ears, nor had the lightning of the trooper's scimitar ever flashed\nacross his eyes:--He had never fallen a captive into the hands of an\nenemy, nor been overwhelmed amidst a shower of their arrows.\n\nIt happened that this young man and I kept running on together; and any\nvenerable ruin that might come in our way he would overthrow with the\nstrength of his shoulder; and any huge tree that we might see he would\nwrench from its root with his lion-seizing wrist, and boastfully\ncry:--\"Where is the elephant, that he may behold the shoulder and arm of\nwarriors? Where the lion, that he may feel the wrist and grip of\nheroes?\"\n\nSuch was our situation when two Hindus darted from behind a rock and\nprepared to cut us off, one of them holding a bludgeon in his hand, and\nthe other having a mallet under his arm. I called to the young man, \"Why\ndo you stop?--Display whatever strength and courage thou hast, for the\nfoe came on his own feet up to his grave\":--I perceived that the youth's\nbow and arrows had dropped from his hands, and that a tremor had fallen\nupon his limbs:--It is not he that can split a hair with a coat-of-mail\ncleaving arrow that is able to withstand an assault from the\nformidable:--No alternative was left us but that of surrendering our\narms, accoutrements, and clothes, and escaping with our lives. On an\naffair of importance employ a man experienced in business who can bring\nthe fierce lion within the noose of his halter; though the youth be\nstrong of arm and has the body of an elephant, in his encounter with a\nfoe every limb will quake with fear. A man of experience is best\nqualified to explore a field of battle, as one of the learned is to\nexpound a point of law.\n\n\nXIX\n\nI saw a rich man's son seated by his father's tomb, and in a disputation\nwith that of a dervish holding forth and saying: \"My father's mausoleum\nis built of granite, the epitaph inscribed with letters of gold, the\npavement and lining marble, and tessellated with slabs of turquoise; and\nwhat is there left of your father's tomb but two or three bricks\ncemented together with a few handfuls of mortar?\" The poor man's son\nheard this, and answered: \"I pray you peace! for before your father can\nstir himself under this heavy load of stone mine shall have risen up to\nheaven!\" And there is a tradition of the prophet, that _death to the\npoor is a state of rest_. That ass proceeds all the lighter on his\njourney on whom they load the lightest burden:--the poor dervish, who\nsuffers under a load of indigence, will in like sort enter the gates of\ndeath with an easy burden; but with him who luxuriates in peace, plenty,\nand affluence, it must be a real hardship to die amidst all these\ncomforts. At all events consider the prisoner, who is released from his\nthraldom, as better off than the prince who is just fallen a captive.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXXI\n\nI saw a certain person in the garb of dervishes, but not with their\nmeekness, seated in a company, and full of his abuse. Having opened the\nvolume of reproach, and begun to calumniate the rich, his discourse had\nreached this place, stating: \"The hand of the poor man's ability is tied\nup, and the foot of the rich man's inclination crippled:--Men of\nliberality have no command of money, nor have the opulent and\nworldly-minded a spirit of liberality.\"\n\nOwing, as I am, my support to the bounty of the great, I considered this\nanimadversion as unmerited, and replied: \"O my friend! the rich are the\ntreasury of the indigent, the granary of the hermit, the fane of the\npilgrim, resting-place of the traveller, and the carriers of heavy\nburdens for the relief of their fellow-creatures. They put forth their\nhand to eat when their servants and dependants are ready to partake with\nthem; and the bounteous fragments of their tables they distribute among\nwidows and the aged, their neighbors and kindred:--The rich have their\nconsecrated foundations, charitable endowments and rites of hospitality;\ntheir alms, oblations, manumissions, peace-offerings, and sacrifices.\nHow shalt thou rise to this pomp of fortune who canst perform only these\ntwo genuflexions, and them after manifold difficulties?--Whether it\nrespect their moral dignity or religious duty, the rich are at ease\nwithin themselves; for their property is sanctified by giving tithes,\nand their apparel hallowed by cleanliness, their reputations\nunblemished, and minds content. The intelligent are aware that the zeal\nof devotion is warmed by good fare, and the sincerity of piety rendered\nmore serene in a nicety of vesture; for it is evident what ardor there\ncan be in a hungry stomach; what generosity in squalid penury; what\nability of travelling with a bare foot; and what alacrity at bestowing\nfrom an empty hand:--Uneasy must be the night-slumbers of him whose\nprovision for to-morrow is not forthcoming: the ant is laying by a store\nin summer that she may enjoy an abundance in winter. It is clear that\nindigence and tranquillity can never go together, nor have fruition and\nwant the same aspect: the one had composed himself for prayer, and the\nother sat anxious, and thinking on his supper; how then could this ever\ncome in competition with that? The lord of plenty has his mind fixed on\nGod; when a man's fortune is bankrupt, so is his heart:--accordingly,\nthe devotion of the rich is more acceptable at the temple of God,\nbecause their thoughts are present and collected, and their minds not\nabsent and distracted; for they have laid up the conveniences of good\nliving, and digested at their leisure their scriptural quotations (for\nprayer). The Arabs say: '_God preserve us from overwhelming poverty; and\nfrom the company of him whom he loves not, namely, the infidel_':--And\nthere is a tradition of the prophet--that '_poverty has a gloomy aspect\nin this world and in the next_!'\"\n\nMy antagonist said: \"Have you not heard what the blessed prophet has\ndeclared?--'_poverty is my glory!_'\" I replied: \"Be silent, for the\nallusion of the Lord of both worlds applies to such as are heroes in the\nfield of resignation, and the devoted victims of their fate, and not to\nthose who put on the garb of piety, that they may entitle themselves to\nthe bread of charity. O noisy drum! thou art nothing but an empty sound;\nunprovided with the means, what canst thou effect on the last day of\naccount? If thou art a man of spirit, turn thy face away from begging\ncharity from thy fellow-creature; and keep not repeating thy rosary of a\nthousand beads. Being without divine knowledge, a dervish, or poor man,\nrests not till his poverty settles into infidelity; for _he that is poor\nis well-nigh being an infidel_:--nor is it practicable, unless through\nthe agency of wealth, to clothe the naked, and to liberate the prisoner\nfrom jail: how then can such mendicants as we are aspire to their\ndignity; or what comparison is there between the arm of the lofty and\nthe hand of the abject? Do you not perceive that the glorious and great\nGod announces, in the holy book of the Koran, xxviii, the enjoyments of\nthe blessed in Paradise?--that '_to this community, namely, the orthodox\nMussulmans, a provision is allotted_';--in order that you may\nunderstand that such as are solely occupied in looking after their daily\nsubsistence are excluded from this portion of the blessed; and that the\nproperty of present enjoyment is sanctioned under the seal of\nProvidence:--to the thirsty it will seem in their dreams as if the face\nof the earth were wholly a fountain. You may everywhere observe that,\ninstigated by his appetites, a person who has suffered hardship and\ntasted bitterness will engage in dangerous enterprises; and, indifferent\nto the consequences, and unawed by future punishments, he will not\ndiscriminate between what is lawful and what is forbid:--Should a clod\nof earth be thrown at the head of a dog, he would jump up in joy, and\ntake it for a bone; or were two people carrying a corpse on a bier, a\ngreedy man would fancy it a tray of victuals. Whereas the worldly\nopulent are regarded with the benevolent eye of Providence, and in their\nenjoyments of what is lawful are preserved from things illegal. Having\nthus detailed my arguments and adduced my proofs, I rely on your justice\nfor an equitable decree; whether you ever saw a felon with his arms\npinioned; a bankrupt immured in a jail; the veil of innocency rent, or\nthe arm mutilated for theft, unless in consequence of poverty: for\nlion-like heroes, instigated by want, have been caught undermining\nwalls, and breaking into houses, and have got themselves suspended by\nthe heels. It is, moreover, possible that a poor man, urged to it by an\ninordinate appetite, may feel desirous of gratifying his lust; and he\nmay fall the victim of some accursed sin. And of the manifold means of\nmental tranquillity and corporeal enjoyment which are the special lots\nof the opulent, one is that every night they can command a fresh\nmistress, and every day possess a new charmer, such as must excite the\nenvy of the glorious dawn, and stick the foot of the stately cypress in\nthe mire of shame:--'She had dipped her hands in the blood of her\nlovers, and tinged the tips of her fingers with jujubes':--so that it\nwere impossible, with such lovely objects before their eyes, for them to\ndesire what is forbidden or to wish to commit sin:--Why should such a\nheart as the houris, or nymphs of Paradise, have captivated and\nplundered, show any way partial to the idols of Yaghma (a city in\nTurkestan famous for its beauties)?--_He who has in both his hands such\ndates as he can relish, will not think of throwing stones at the bunches\nof dates on their trees_. In common, such as are in indigent\ncircumstances will contaminate the skirt of innocency with sin; and such\nas are suffering from hunger will steal bread:--When a ravenous dog has\nfound a piece of meat, he asks not, saying: Is this the flesh of the\nprophet Salah's camel or Antichrist's ass? Many are the chaste who,\nbecause of their poverty, have fallen into the sink of wickedness, and\ngiven their fair reputations to the blast of infamy:--The virtue of\ntemperance remains not with a state of being famished; and bankrupt\ncircumstances will snatch the rein from the hand of abstemiousness.\"\n\nThe moment I had finished this speech, the dervish, my antagonist, let\nthe rein of forbearance drop from the hand of moderation; unsheathed the\nsabre of his tongue; set the steed of eloquence at full speed over the\nplain of arrogance; and, galloping up to me, said: \"You have so\nexaggerated in their praise, and amplified with such extravagance, that\nwe might fancy them an antidote to the poison of poverty and a key to\nthe store-house of Providence; yet they are a proud, self-conceited,\nfastidious, and overbearing set, insatiate after wealth and property,\nand ambitious of rank and dignity; who exchange not a word but to\nexpress insolence, or deign a look but to show contempt. Men of science\nthey call beggars, and the indigent they reproach for their wretched\nraggedness. Proud of the property they possess, and vain of the rank\nthey claim, they take the upper hand of all, and deem themselves\neverybody's superior. Nor do they ever condescend to return any person's\nsalutation, unmindful of the maxim of the wise: That whoever is inferior\nto others in humility, and is their superior in opulence, though in\nappearance he be rich, yet in reality he is a beggar:--If a worthless\nfellow, because of his wealth, treats a learned man with insolence,\nreckon him an ass, although he be the ambergris ox.\"\n\nI replied: \"Do not calumniate the rich, for they are the lords of\nmunificence.\" He said: \"You mistake them, for they are the slaves of\ndinars and dirams, or their gold and silver coins. For example, what\nprofits it though they be the clouds of the spring, if they may not send\nus rain; or the fountain of the sun, and shine upon no one; or though\nthey be mounted on the steed of capability, and advance not towards\nanybody? They will not move a step for the sake of God, nor bestow their\ncharity without laying you under obligation and thanks. They hoard\ntheir money with solicitude, watch it while they live with sordid\nmeanness, and leave it behind them with deadening regret, verifying the\nsaying of the wise: 'That the money of the miser is coming out of the\nearth when he is himself going into it:'--One man hoards a treasure with\npain and tribulation, another comes and spends it without tribulation or\npain.\"\n\nI replied: \"You could have ascertained the parsimony of the wealthy only\nthrough the medium of your own beggary; otherwise to him who lays\ncovetousness aside the generous man and miser seem all one. The\ntouchstone can prove which is pure gold, and the beggar can say which is\nthe niggard.\" He said: \"I speak of them from experience; for they\nstation dependants by their doors, and plant surly porters at their\ngates, to deny admittance to the worthy, and to lay violent hands upon\nthe collars of the elect, and say: 'There is nobody at home'; and verily\nthey tell what is true:--When the master has not reason or judgment,\nunderstanding or discernment, the porter reported right of him, saying:\n'There is nobody in the house.'\"\n\nI replied: \"They are excusable, inasmuch as they are worried out of\ntheir lives by importunate memorialists, and jaded to their hearts by\nindigent solicitors; and it might be reasonably doubted whether it would\nsatisfy the eye of the covetous if the sands of the desert could be\nturned into pearls:--The eye of the greedy is not to be filled with\nworldly riches, any more than a well can be replenished from the dew of\nnight. And had Hatim Tayi, who dwelt in the desert, come to live in a\ncity, he would have been overwhelmed with the importunities of\nmendicants, and they would have torn the clothes from his back:--Look\nnot towards me, lest thou should draw the eyes of others, for at the\nmendicant's hand no good can be expected.\"\n\nHe said: \"I pity their condition.\" I replied: \"Not so; but you envy them\ntheir property.\" We were thus warm in argument, and both of us close\nengaged. Whatever chess pawn he might advance I would set one in\nopposition to it; and whenever he put my king in check, I would relieve\nhim with my queen; till he had exhausted all the coin in the purse of\nhis resolution, and expended all the arrows of the quiver of his\nargument. \"Take heed and retreat not from the orator's attack, for\nnothing is left him but metaphor and hyperbole. Wield thy polemics and\nlaw citations, for the wordy rhetorician made a show of arms over his\ngate, but has not a soldier within his fort\":--At length, having no\nsyllogism left, I made him crouch in mental submission. He stretched\nforth the arm of violence, and began with vain abuse. As is the case\nwith the ignorant, when beaten by their antagonist in fair argument,\nthey shake the chain of rancor; like Azor, the idol-maker, when he could\nno longer contend with his son Abraham in words he fell upon him with\nblows, as God has said in the Koran--\"_If thou wilt not yield this\npoint, I will overwhelm thee with stones_:\"--He gave me abuse, and I\nretorted upon him with asperity; he tore my collar, and I plucked his\nbeard:--He had fallen upon me and I upon him, and a crowd had gathered\nround us enjoying the sport. A whole world gnawed the finger of\nastonishment when it heard and understood what had taken place between\nus.\n\nIn short, we referred our dispute to the cazi, and agreed to abide by\nhis equitable decree: That the judge of the Mussulmans, or faithful,\nmight bring about a peace, and discriminate for us between the poor and\nrich. After having noted our physiognomies, and listened to our\nstatements, the cazi rested his chin on the breast of deliberation; and,\nafter due consideration, raised it, and said: \"Be it known to you, who\nwere lavish in your praise of the rich, and spoke disparagingly of the\npoor, that there is no rose without its thorn; intoxication from wine is\nfollowed by a qualm; hidden treasure has its guardian dragon; where the\nimperial pearl is found, there swims the man-devouring shark; the honey\nof worldly enjoyment has the sting of death in its rear; and between us\nand the felicity of Paradise stands a frightful demon, namely, Satan. So\nlong as the charmer slew not her admirer, what could the rival's malice\navail him? The rose and thorn, the treasure and dragon, joy and sorrow,\nall mingle into one.--Do you not observe that in the garden there are\nthe sweet-scented willows and the withered trunks; so among the classes\nof the rich some are grateful and some thankless; and among the orders\nof the poor some are resigned and some impatient:--Were every drop of\ndew to turn into a pearl, in the market pearls would be as common as\nshells. Near by the throne of a great and glorious Judge are the rich\nmeek in spirit, and the poor rich in resolution. And the chief of the\nopulent is he who sympathizes with the sorrows of the indigent; and the\nmost virtuous of the indigent is he who covets not the society of the\nopulent:--_God is all-sufficient for him who trusts in God_.\"\n\nThen the cazi turned the face of animadversion from me towards the\ndervish, and said: \"O you who have charged the rich with being active in\nsin, and intoxicated with things forbidden, verily there is such a tribe\nas you have described them, illiberal in their bigotry, and stingy of\nGod's bounty; who are collecting and hoarding money, but will neither\nuse nor bestow it. If, for example, there was a drought, or if the whole\nearth was deluged with a flood, confident of their own abundance, they\nwould not inquire after the poor man's distress, and, fearless of the\ndivine wrath, exclaim:--If, in his want of everything, another person be\nannihilated, I have plenty; and what does a goose care for a deluge?\n_Such as are lolling in their litters, and indulging in the easy pace of\na female camel, feel not for the foot-traveller perishing amidst\noverwhelming sands:_--The mean-spirited, when they could escape with\ntheir own rugs, would cry: 'What care we should the whole world die.'\n\n\"Such as you have stated them, there is a tribe of rich men; but there\nis another class, who, having spread the table of abundance, and made a\npublic declaration of their munificence, and smoothed the brow of their\nhumility, are solicitous of a reputation and forgiveness, and desirous\nof enjoying this world and the next; like unto the servants of his\nMajesty the sovereign of the universe, just, confirmed, victorious, lord\nparamount and conqueror of nations, defender of the stronghold of\nIslamism, successor of Solomon, most equitable of contemporary kings.\nMozuffar-ud-din Atabak-Abubakr-Saad, may God give him a long life, and\ngrant victory to his standards!--A father could never show such\nbenevolence to his son as thy liberal hand has bestowed upon the race of\nAdam. The Deity was desirous of conferring a kindness upon man, and in\nhis special mercy made thee sovereign of the world.\"\n\nNow that the cazi had carried his harangue to this extreme, and had\ngalloped the steed of metaphor beyond our expectation, we of necessity\nacquiesced in the absolute decree of being satisfied, and apologized for\nwhat had passed between us; and after altercation we returned into the\npath of reconciliation, laid the heads of reparation at each other's\nfeet, mutually kissed and embraced, and, letting mischief fall asleep,\nand war lull itself into peace, concluded the whole in these two\nverses:--\"O poor man! complain not of the revolutions of fortune, for\ngloomy might be thy lot wert thou to die in such sentiments. And now, O\nrich man! that thy hand and heart administer to thy pleasures, spend and\ngive away, that thou may'st enjoy this world and the next.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nOf the Duties of Society\n\n\nI\n\nRiches are intended for the comfort of life, and not life for the\npurpose of hoarding riches. I asked a wise man, saying: \"Who is the\nfortunate man, and who is the unfortunate?\" He said: \"That man was\nfortunate who spent and gave away, and that man unfortunate who died and\nleft behind:--Pray not for that good-for-nothing man who did nothing,\nfor he passed his life in hoarding riches, and did not spend them.\"\n\n\nII\n\nThe prophet Moses, on whom be peace, _admonished Carum, saying: \"Be\nbounteous in like manner as God has been bounteous to thee_\":--but he\nlistened not, and you have heard the end of him. Whoever did not an act\nof charity with his silver and gold, sacrificed his future prospects on\nhis hoard of gold and silver. If desirous that thou shouldst benefit by\nthe wealth of this world, be generous with thy fellow-creature, as God\nhas been generous with thee.\n\nThe Arabs say:--\"_Show thy generosity, but make it not obligatory, that\nthe benefit of it may redound to thee_\":--that is, bestow and make\npresents, but do not exact an obligation that the profit of that act may\nbe returned to you. Wherever the tree of generosity strikes root it\nsends forth its boughs, and they shoot above the skies. If thou\ncherishest a hope of enjoying its fruit, by gratitude I entreat of thee\nnot to lay a saw upon its trunk. Render thanks to God, that thou wert\nfound worthy of his divine grace, that he has not excluded thee from the\nriches of his bounty. Esteem it no obligation that thou art serving the\nking, but show thy gratitude to him, namely God, who has placed thee in\nthis service.\n\n\nIII\n\nTwo persons labored to a vain, and studied to an unprofitable end: he\nwho hoarded wealth and did not spend it, and he who acquired science and\ndid not practise it:--However much thou art read in theory, if thou hast\nno practice thou art ignorant. He is neither a sage philosopher nor an\nacute divine, but a beast of burden with a load of books. How can that\nbrainless head know or comprehend whether he carries on his back a\nlibrary or bundle of fagots?\n\n\nIV\n\nLearning is intended to fortify religious practice, and not to gratify\nworldly traffic:--Whoever prostituted his temperance, piety, and\nscience, gathered his harvest into a heap and set fire to it.\n\n\nV\n\nAn intemperate man of learning is like a blind link-boy:--_He shows the\nroad to others, but sees it not himself_:--whoever ventured his life on\nan unproductive hazard gained nothing by the risk, and lost his own\nstake.\n\n\nVI\n\nA kingdom is embellished by the wise, and religion rendered illustrious\nby the pious. Kings stand more in need of the company of the intelligent\nthan the intelligent do of the society of kings:--If, O king! thou wilt\nlisten to my advice, in all thy archives thou canst not find a wiser\nmaxim than this: entrust thy concerns only to the learned,\nnotwithstanding business is not a learned man's concern.\n\n\nVII\n\nThree things have no durability without their concomitants: property\nwithout trade, knowledge without debate, or a sovereignty without\ngovernment.\n\n\nVIII\n\nTo compassionate the wicked is to tyrannize over the good; and to pardon\nthe oppressor is to deal harshly with the oppressed:--When thou\npatronizest and succorest the base-born man, he looks to be made the\npartner of thy fortune.\n\n\nIX\n\nNo reliance can be placed on the friendship of kings, nor vain hope put\nin the melodious voice of boys; for that passes away like a vision, and\nthis vanishes like a dream:--Bestow not thy affections upon a mistress\nwho has a thousand lovers; or, if thou bestowest them upon her, be\nprepared for a separation.\n\n\nX\n\nReveal not every secret you have to a friend, for how can you tell but\nthat friend may hereafter become an enemy? And bring not all the\nmischief you are able to do upon an enemy, for he may one day become\nyour friend. And any private affair that you wish to keep secret, do not\ndivulge to anybody; for, though such a person has your confidence, none\ncan be so true to your secret as yourself:--Silence is safer than to\ncommunicate the thought of thy mind to anybody, and to warn him, saying:\nDo not divulge it, O silly man! confine the water at the dam-head, for\nonce it has a vent thou canst not stop it. Thou shouldst not utter a\nword in secret which thou wouldst not have spoken in the face of the\npublic.\n\n\nXI\n\nA reduced foe, who offers his submission and courts your amity, can only\nhave in view to become a strong enemy, as they have said: \"You cannot\ntrust the sincerity of friends, then what are you to expect from the\ncajoling of foes?\" Whoever despises a weak enemy resembles him who\nneglects a spark of fire:--To-day that thou canst quench it, put it\nout; for let fire rise into a flame, and it may consume a whole world.\nNow that thou canst transfix him with thy arrow, permit not thy\nantagonist to string his bow.\n\n\nXIII\n\nWhoever is making a league with their enemies has it in his mind to do\nhis friends an ill turn:--\"O wise man! wash thy hands of that friend who\nis in confederacy with thy foes.\"\n\n\nXIV\n\nWhen irresolute in the despatch of business, incline to that side which\nis the least offensive:--Answer not with harshness a mild-spoken man,\nnor force him into war who knocks at the gate of peace.\n\n\nXV\n\nSo long as money can answer, it were wrong in any business to put the\nlife in danger:--as the Arabs say:--\"_let the sword decide after\nstratagem has failed_\":--When the hand is balked in every crafty\nendeavor, it is lawful to lay it upon the hilt of the sabre.\n\n\nXVI\n\nShow no mercy to a subdued foe, for if he recover himself he will show\nyou no mercy:--When thou seest thy antagonist in a reduced state, curl\nnot thy whiskers at him in contempt, for in every bone there is marrow,\nand within every jacket there is a man.\n\n\nXVII\n\nWhoever puts a wicked man to death delivers mankind from his mischief,\nand the wretch himself from God's vengeance:--Beneficence is\npraiseworthy; yet thou shouldst not administer a balsam to the wound of\nthe wicked. Knew he not who took compassion on a snake, that it is the\npest of the sons of Adam.\n\n\nXVIII\n\nIt is wrong to follow the advice of an adversary; nevertheless it is\nright to hear it, that you may do the contrary; and this is the essence\nof good policy:--Sedulously shun whatever thy foe may recommend,\notherwise thou may'st wring the hands of repentance on thy knees. Should\nhe show thee to the right a path straight as an arrow, turn aside from\nthat, and take the path to the left.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXX\n\nTwo orders of mankind are the enemies of church and state: the king\nwithout clemency, and the holy man without learning:--Let not that\nprince have rule over the state who is not himself obedient to the will\nof God.\n\n\nXXI\n\nIt behooves a king so to regulate his anger towards his enemies as not\nto alarm the confidence of his friends; for the fire of passion falls\nfirst on the angry man; afterwards its sparks will dart forth towards\nthe foe, and him they may reach, or they may not. It ill becomes the\nchildren of Adam, formed of dust, to harbor in their head such pride,\narrogance, and passion. I cannot fancy all this thy warmth and obstinacy\nto be created from earth, but from fire. I went to a holy man in the\nland of Bailcan, and said: \"Cleanse me of ignorance by thy instruction?\"\nHe replied: \"O fakir, or theologician! go and bear things patiently like\nthe earth; or whatever thou hast read let it all be buried under the\nearth.\"\n\n\nXXII\n\nAn evil-disposed man is a captive in the hands of an enemy (namely,\nhimself); for wherever he may go he cannot escape from the grasp of that\nenemy's vengeance:--Let a wicked man ascend up to heaven, that he may\nescape from the grasp of calamity; even thither would the hand of his\nown evil heart follow him with misfortune.\n\n\nXXIII\n\nWhen you see discord raging among the troops of your enemy, be on your\nside quiet; but if you see them united, think of your own dispersed\nstate:--When thou beholdest war among thy foes, go and enjoy peace with\nthy friends; but if thou findest them of one soul and mind, string thy\nbow, and range stones around thy battlements.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXXVI\n\nKeep to yourself any intelligence that may prove unpleasant, till some\nperson else has disclosed it:--Bring, O nightingale! the glad tidings of\nthe spring, and leave to the owl to be the harbinger of evil.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXXVIII\n\nWhoever is counselling a self-sufficient man stands himself in need of a\ncounsellor.\n\n\nXXIX\n\nSwallow not the wheedling of a rival, nor pay for the sycophancy of a\nparasite; for that has laid the snare of treachery, and this whetted the\npalate of gluttony. The fool is puffed up with his own praise, like a\ndead body, which on being stretched upon a bier shows a momentary\ncorpulency:--Take heed and listen not to the sycophant's blandishments,\nwho expects in return some small compensation; for shouldst thou any day\ndisappoint his object he would in like style sum up two hundred of thy\ndefects.\n\n\nXXX\n\nTill some person may show its defects, the speech of the orator will\nfail of correctness:--Be not vain of the eloquence of thy discourse\nbecause it has the fool's good opinion, and thine own approbation.\n\n\nXXXI\n\nEvery person thinks his own intellect perfect, and his own child\nhandsome:--A Mussulman and a Jew were warm in argument to such a degree\nthat I smiled at their subject. The Mussulman said in wrath: \"If this\ndeed of conveyance be not authentic may I, O God, die a Jew!\" The Jew\nreplied: \"On the Pentateuch I swear, if what I say be false, I am a\nMussulman like you!\" Were intellect to be annihilated from the face of\nthe earth, nobody could be brought to say: \"I am ignorant.\"\n\n\nXXXII\n\nTen people will partake of the same joint of meat, and two dogs will\nsnarl over a whole carcase. The greedy man is incontinent with a whole\nworld set before him; the temperate man is content with his crust of\nbread:--A loaf of brown bread may fill an empty stomach, but the produce\nof the whole globe cannot satisfy a greedy eye:--My father, when the sun\nof his life was going down, gave me this sage advice, and it set for\ngood, saying: \"Lust is a fire; refrain from indulging it, and do not\ninvolve thyself in the flames of hell. Since thou hast not the strength\nof burning in those flames (as a punishment in the next world), pour in\nthis world the water of continence upon this fire--namely, lust.\"\n\n\nXXXIII\n\nWhoever does not do good, when he has the means of doing it, will suffer\nhardship when he has not the means:--None is more unlucky than the\nmisanthrope, for on the day of adversity he has not a single friend.\n\n\nXXXIV\n\nLife stands on the verge of a single breath; and this world is an\nexistence between two nonentities. Such as truck their deen, or\nreligious practice, for worldly pelf are asses. They sold Joseph, and\nwhat got they by their bargain?--\"_Did I not covenant with you, O ye\nsons of Adam, that you should not serve Satan; for verily he is your\navowed enemy_\":--By the advice of a foe you broke your faith with a\nfriend; behold from whom you separated, and with whom you united\nyourselves.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXXXVI\n\nWhatever is produced in haste goes hastily to waste:--I have heard that,\nafter a process of forty years, they convert the clay of the East into a\nChina porcelain cup. At Bagdad they can make an hundred cups in a day,\nand thou may'st of course conceive their respective value. A chicken\nwalks forth from its shell, and goes in quest of its food; the young of\nman possesses not that instinct of prudence and discrimination. That\nwhich was at once something comes to nothing; and this surpasses all\ncreatures in dignity and wisdom. A piece of crystal or glass is found\neverywhere, and held of no value; a ruby is obtained with difficulty,\nand therefore inestimable.\n\n\nXXXVII\n\nPatience accomplishes its object, while hurry speeds to its ruin:--With\nmy own eyes I saw in the desert that the deliberate man outstripped him\nthat had hurried on. The wing-footed steed is broken down in his speed,\nwhilst the camel-driver jogs on with his beast to the end of his\njourney.\n\n\nXXXVIII\n\nNothing is so good for an ignorant man as silence, and if he knew this\nhe would no longer be ignorant:--When unadorned with the grace of\neloquence it is wise to keep watch over the tongue in the mouth. The\ntongue, by abuse, renders a man contemptible; levity in a nut is a sign\nof its being empty. A fool was undertaking the instruction of an ass,\nand had devoted his whole time to this occupation. A wise man said to\nhim: \"What art thou endeavoring to do? In this vain attempt dread the\nreproof of the censorious! A brute can never learn speech from thee; do\nthou learn silence from him.\" That man who reflects not before he speaks\nwill only make all the more improper answer. Either like a man arrange\nthy speech with judgment, or like a brute sit silent.\n\n\nXXXIX\n\nWhoever shall argue with one more learned than himself that others may\ntake him for a wise man, only confirms them in his being a fool:--\"When\na person superior to what thou art engages thee in conversation do not\ncontradict him, though thou may'st know better.\"\n\n\nXL\n\nHe can see no good who will associate with the wicked:--Were an angel\nfrom heaven to associate with a demon, he would learn his brutality,\nperfidy, and hypocrisy. Virtue thou never canst learn of the vicious; it\nis not the wolf's occupation to mend skins, but to tear them.\n\n\nXLI\n\nExpose not the secret failings of mankind, otherwise you must verily\nbring scandal upon them and distrust upon yourself.\n\n\nXLII\n\nWhoever acquires knowledge and does not practise it resembles him who\nploughs his land and leaves it unsown.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXLVI\n\nIt is not every man that has a handsome physical exterior that has a\ngood moral character; for the faculty of business or virtue resides in\nthe heart and not in the skin. Thou canst in one day ascertain the\nintellectual faculties of a man, and what proficiency he has made in his\ndegrees of knowledge; but be not secure of his mind, nor foolishly sure,\nfor it may take years to detect the innate baseness of the heart.\n\n\nXLVII\n\nWhoever contends with the great sheds his own blood:--Thou contemplatest\nthyself as a mighty great man; and they have truly remarked that the\nsquinter sees double. Thou who canst in play butt with a ram must soon\nfind thyself with a broken pate.\n\n\nXLVIII\n\nTo grapple with a lion, or to box against a naked scimitar, are not the\nacts of the prudent:--Brave not the furious with war and opposition\nbefore their arms of strength cross thy hands of submission.\n\n\nXLIX\n\nA weak man who tries his courage against the strong leagues with the foe\nto his own destruction:--Nurtured in a shade, what strength can he have\nthat he should engage with the warlike in battle; impotent of arm, he\nwas falling the victim of folly when he set his wrist in opposition to a\nwrist of iron.\n\n\nL\n\nWhoever will not listen to admonition harbors the fancy of hearing\nreprehension:--When advice gains not an admission into the ear, if I\ngive thee reproof, hear it in silence.\n\n\nLI\n\nThe idle cannot endure the industrious any more than the curs of the\nmarket-place, who, on meeting dogs employed for sporting, will snarl at\nand prevent them passing.\n\n\nLII\n\nA mean wretch that cannot vie with another in virtue will assail him\nwith malignity:--The narrow-minded envier will somehow manage to revile\nthee, who in thy presence might have the tongue of his utterance struck\ndumb.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nLV\n\nTo hold counsel with women is bad, and to deal generously\nwith prodigals a fault:--Showing mercy upon the sharp-fanged\npard must prove an injustice to the harmless sheep.\n\n\nLVI\n\nWhoever has his foe at his mercy, and does not kill him, is his own\nenemy:--With a stone in his hand, and the snake's head convenient, a\nwise man hesitates not in crushing it.\n\nCertain people have seen this maxim in an opposite point of view,\nsaying: \"It were wiser to delay the execution of captives, inasmuch as\nthe option is left so that you can slay, or you can release them; but if\nyou shall have heedlessly put them to death, the policy is defunct, for\nthe opportunity of repairing it is lost\":--There is no great difficulty\nto separate the soul from the body, but it is not so easy to restore\nlife to the dead: prudence dictates patience in giving the arrow flight,\nfor let it quit the bow and it never can be recalled.\n\n\nLVII\n\nA learned man who has got into an argument with the ignorant can have no\nhopes of supporting his own dignity; and if an ignoramus by his\nloquacity gets the upper hand it should not surprise us, for he is a\nstone and can bruise a gem:--No wonder if his spirit flag; the\nnightingale is cooped up in the same cage with the crow:--If the man of\nsense is coarsely treated by the vulgar, let it not excite our wrath and\nindignation; if a piece of worthless stone can bruise a cup of gold, its\nworth is not increased, nor that of the gold diminished.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nLX\n\nGenius without education is the subject of our regret, and education\nwithout genius is labor lost. Although embers have a lofty origin (fire\nbeing of a noble nature), yet, as having no intrinsic worth, they fall\nupon a level with common dust; on the other hand, sugar does not derive\nits value from the cane, but from its own innate quality:--Inasmuch as\nthe disposition of Canaan was bad, his descent from the prophet Noah\nstood him in no stead. Pride thyself on what virtue thou hast, and not\non thy parentage; the rose springs from a thorn-bush, and Abraham from\nAzor (neither his father's name, or fire).\n\n\nLXI\n\nThat is musk which discloses itself by its smell, and not what the\nperfumers impose upon us:--If a man be expert in any art he needs not\ntell it, for his own skill will show it.\n\n\nLXII\n\nA wise man is, like a vase in a druggist's shop, silent, but full of\nvirtues; and the ignorant man resembles the drum of the warrior, being\nfull of noise, and an empty babbler:--The sincerely devout have remarked\nthat a learned man beset by the illiterate is like one of the lovely in\na circle of the blind, or the holy Koran in the dwelling of the infidel.\n\n\nLXIII\n\nA friend whom they take an age to conciliate, it were wrong all at once\nto alienate:--In a series of years a stone changes into a ruby; take\nheed, and destroy it not at once by dashing it against another stone.\n\n\nLXIV\n\nReason is in like manner enthralled by passion, as an uxorious man is in\nthe hands of an artful woman. Thou may'st shut the door of joy upon that\ndwelling where thou hearest resounding the scolding voice of a woman.\n\n\nLXV\n\nIntellect, without firmness, is craft and chicanery; and firmness,\nwithout intellect, perverseness and obstinacy:--First, prudence, good\nsense, and discrimination, and then dominion; for the dominion and good\nfortune of the ignorant are the armor of rebellion against God.\n\n\nLXVI\n\nThe sinner who spends and gives away is better than the devotee who begs\nand lays by.\n\n\nLXVII\n\nWhoever foregoes carnal indulgence in order to get the good opinion of\nmankind, has forsaken a lawful passion and involved himself in what is\nforbidden:--What, wretched creature! can that hermit see in his own\ntarnished mirror, or heart, who retires to a cell, but not for the sake\nof God?\n\n\nLXIX\n\nA wise man should not through clemency overlook the insolence of the\nvulgar, otherwise both sustain a loss, for their respect for him is\nlessened and their own brutality confirmed:--When thou addressest the\nlow with urbanity and kindness, it only adds to their pride and\narrogance.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nLXXIV\n\nIn a season of drought and scarcity ask not the distressed dervish,\nsaying: \"How are you?\" Unless on the condition that you apply a balm to\nhis wound, and supply him with the means of subsistence:--The ass which\nthou seest stuck in the slough with his rider, compassionate from thy\nheart, otherwise do not go near him. Now that thou went and asked him\nhow he fell, like a sturdy fellow bind up thy loins, and take his ass by\nthe tail.\n\n\nLXXV\n\nTwo things are repugnant to reason: to expend more than what Providence\nhas allotted for us, and to die before our ordained time:--Whether\noffered up in gratitude, or uttered in complaint, destiny cannot be\naltered by a thousand sighs and lamentations. The angel who presides\nover the store-house of the winds feels no compunction, though he\nextinguish the old woman's lamp.\n\n\nLXXVI\n\nO you that are going in quest of food, sit down, that you may have to\neat. And, O you that death is in quest of, go not on, for you cannot\ncarry life along with you:--In search of thy daily bread, whether thou\nexertest thyself, or whether thou dost not, the God of Majesty and Glory\nwill equally provide it. Wert thou to walk into the mouth of a tiger or\nlion, he could not devour thee, unless by the ordinance of thy destiny.\n\n\nLXXVII\n\nWhatever was not designed, the hand cannot reach; and whatever was\nordained, it can attain in any situation:--Thou hast heard that\nAlexander got as far as chaos; but after all this toil he drank not the\nwater of immortality.\n\n\nLXXVIII\n\nThe fisherman, unless it be his lot, catches no fish in the Tigris; and\nthe fish, unless it be its fate, does not die on the dry land:--The\nwretched miser is prowling all over the world, he in quest of pelf, and\ndeath in quest of him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nLXXXI\n\nThe envious man is niggard of the gifts of Providence, and an enemy of\nthe innocent:--I met a dry-brained fellow of this sort, tricked forth in\nthe robe of a dignified person. I said: \"O sir! if thou art unfortunate\nin having this disposition, in what have the fortunate been to\nblame?--Take heed, and wish not misfortune to the misanthrope, for his\nown ill-conditioned lot is calamity sufficient. What need is there of\nshowing ill-will to him, who has such an enemy close at his heels.\"\n\n\nLXXXII\n\nA scholar without diligence is a lover without money; a traveller\nwithout knowledge is a bird without wings; a theorist without practice\nis a tree without fruit; and a devotee without learning is a house\nwithout an entrance.\n\n\nLXXXIII\n\nThe object of sending the Koran down from heaven was that mankind might\nmake it a manual of morals, and not that they should recite it by\nsections.\n\n\nLXXXIV\n\nThe sincere publican has proceeded on foot; the slothful Pharisee is\nmounted and gone asleep.\n\n\nLXXXV\n\nThe sinner who humbles himself in prayer is more acceptable than the\ndevotee who is puffed up with pride:--The courteous and kind-hearted\nsoldier of fortune is better than the misanthropic and learned divine.\n\n\nLXXXVI\n\nA learned man without works is a bee without honey:--Tell that harsh and\nungenerous hornet: As thou yieldest no honey, wound not with thy sting.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nLXXXIX\n\nThough a dress presented by the sovereign be honorable, yet is our own\ntattered garment preferable; and though the viands at a great man's\ntable be delicate, yet is our own homely fare more sweet:--A salad and\nvinegar, the produce of our own industry, are sweeter than the lamb and\nbread sauce at the table of our village chief.\n\n\nXC\n\nIt is contrary to sound judgment, and repugnant to the maxims of the\nprudent, to take a medicine on conjecture, or to follow a road but in\nthe track of the caravan.\n\n\nXCI\n\nThey asked Imaam Mursheed Mohammed-bin-Mohammed Ghazali, on whom be\nGod's mercy, how he had reached such a pitch of knowledge. He replied:\n\"Whatever I was ignorant of myself, I felt no shame in asking of\nothers\":--Thy prospect of health conforms with reason, when thy pulse is\nin charge of a skilled physician. Ask whatever thou knowest not; for the\ncondescension of inquiring is a guide on thy road in the excellence of\nlearning.\n\n\nXCII\n\nAnything you foresee that you may somehow come to know, be not hasty in\nquestioning, lest your consequence and respectability may suffer:--When\nLucman perceived that in the hands of David iron was miraculously\nmoulded like wax, he asked him not, How didst thou do it? for he was\naware that he should know it, through his own wisdom, without asking.\n\n\nXCIII\n\nIt is one of the laws of good breeding that you should forego an\nengagement, or accommodate yourself to the master of the\nentertainment:--If thou knowest that the inclination is reciprocal,\naccommodate thy story to the temper of the hearer. Any discreet man that\nwas in Mujnun's company would entertain him only with encomiums on\nLaila.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXCVI\n\nWhoever interrupts the conversation of others to make a display of his\nfund of knowledge makes notorious his own stock of ignorance.\nPhilosophers have said:--A prudent man will not obtrude his answer till\nhe has the question stated to him in form. Notwithstanding the\nproposition may have its right demonstration, the cavil of the\nfastidious will construe it wrong.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nXCVIII\n\nTo tell a falsehood is like the cut of a sabre; for though the wound may\nheal, the scar of it will remain. In like manner as the brothers of the\nblessed Joseph, who, being notorious for a lie, had no credit afterwards\nwhen they spoke the truth:--God on high has said--Jacob is supposed to\nspeak--(Koran xii. Sale ii. 35):--\"_Nay, but rather ye have contrived\nthis to gratify your own passion; yet it behooves me to be\npatient_\":--If a man who is in the habit of speaking truth lets a\nmistake escape him, we can overlook it; but if he be notorious for\nuttering falsehoods, and tell a truth, thou wilt call it a lie.\n\n\nXCIX\n\nThe noblest of creatures is man, and the vilest of animals is no doubt a\ndog; yet, in the concurring opinion of the wise, a dog, thankful for his\nfood, is more worthy than a human being who is void of gratitude:--A dog\nwill never forget the crumb thou gavest him, though thou may'st\nafterwards throw a hundred stones at his head; but foster with thy\nkindness a low man for an age, and on the smallest provocation he will\nbe up against thee in arms.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nCI\n\nIt is written in the Injeel, or Gospel, stating: \"O son of man, if I\nbestow riches upon you, you will be more intent upon your property than\nupon me, and if I leave you in poverty you will sit down dejected; how\nthen can you feel a relish to praise, or a zeal to worship\nme?\"--(Proverbs xxx. 7, 8, 9.) In the day of plenty thou art proud and\nnegligent; in the time of want, full of sorrow and dejected; since in\nprosperity and adversity such is thy condition, it were difficult to\nstate when thou wouldst voluntarily do thy duty.\n\n\nCII\n\nThe pleasure of Him, or God, who has no equal hurls one man from a\nthrone of sovereignty, and another he preserves in a fish's\nbelly:--Happy proceeds his time who is enraptured with thy praise,\nthough, like Jonah, he even may pass it in the belly of a fish!\n\n\nCIII\n\nWere the Almighty to unsheath the sword of his wrath, prophets and\npatriarchs would draw in their heads; and were he to deign a glimpse of\nhis benevolence, it would reach the wicked along with the good:--Were he\non the day of judgment to call us to a strict account, even the prophets\nwould have no room for excuse. Say, withdraw the veil from the face of\nthy compassion, that sinners may entertain hopes of pardon.\n\n\nCIV\n\nWhoever is not to be brought into the path of righteousness by the\npunishments of this life shall be overtaken with the punishments of that\nto come:--\"_Verily, I will cause them to taste the lesser punishment\nover and above the greater punishment\":_--(Koran xxxii. Sale ii. 258.)\nPrinces, in chastising, admonish, and then confine; when they admonish,\nand thou listenest not, they throw thee into prison.\n\n\nCV\n\nMen of auspicious fortune would rather take warning from the precepts\nand examples of their predecessors than that the rising generation\nshould take warning from their acts:--The bird will not approach the\ngrain that is spread about, where it sees another bird a captive in the\nsnare. Take warning by the mischance of others, that others may not take\nwarning by thine.\n\n\nCVI\n\nHow can he help himself who was born deaf, if he cannot hear; and what\ncan he do whose thread of fortune is dragging him on that he may not\nproceed:--The dark night of such as are beloved of God is serene and\nlight as the bright day; but this good fortune results not from thine\nown strength of arm, till God in his mercy deign to bestow it. To whom\nshall I complain of thee? for there is no judge else, nor is any arm\nmightier than thine. Him whom thou directest none can lead astray, and\nhim whom thou bewilderest none can direct upon his way.\n\n\nCVII\n\nThe beggar whose end is good is better off than the king whose end is\nevil:--That sorrow which is the harbinger of joy is preferable to the\njoy which is followed by sorrow.\n\n\nCVIII\n\nThe sky enriches the earth with rain, and the earth gives it dust in\nreturn. As the Arabs say: \"_What the vessels have, that they give_.\"--If\nmy moral character strike thee as improper, do not renounce thine own\ngood character.\n\n\nCIX\n\nThe Most High God discerns and hides what is improper; my neighbor sees\nnot, and is loud in his clamor:--God preserve us! if man knew what is\nhidden, none could be safe from the animadversion of his neighbor.\n\n\nCX\n\nGold is got from the mine by digging into the earth; and from the grasp\nof the miser by taking away his life:--Misers spend not, but watch with\nsolicitude: expectation, they say, is preferable to waste. Next day\nobserve to the joy of their enemies, the gold remains, and they are dead\nwithout the enjoyment of that hope.\n\n\nCXI\n\nSuch as deal hard with the weak will suffer from the extortion of the\nstrong:--It is not every arm in which there is strength that can wrench\nthe hand of a weak man. Bring not affliction upon the hearts of the\nfeeble, lest thou may'st fall under the lash of the strong.\n\n\nCXII\n\nA wise man, where he meets opposition, labors to get through it, and\nwhere he finds quiet he drops his anchor, for there safety is on one\nside, and here enjoyment in the middle of it.\n\n\nCXIII\n\nThe gamester wants three sixes, but he throws only three aces:--The\npasture meadow is a thousand times richer than the common, but the horse\nhas not his tether at command.\n\n\nCXIV\n\nThe dervish in his prayer is saying: \"O God, have compassion on the\nwicked, for to the good thou hast been abundantly kind, inasmuch as thou\nhast made them virtuous.\"\n\n\nCXV\n\nJemshid was the first person who put an edging round his garment, and a\nring upon his finger. They asked him: \"Why did you bestow all the\ndecoration and ornament on the left hand, whilst the right is the\nsuperior?\" He answered: \"Sufficient for the right is the ornament of\nbeing right.\" Ferid\u00fan commanded the gilders of China that they would\ninscribe upon the front of his palace: \"Strive, O wise man, to make the\nwicked good, for the good are of themselves great and fortunate.\"\n\n\nCXVI\n\nThey said to a great and holy man: \"Notwithstanding the superiority that\nthe right hand commands, who do they wear the ring on the left hand?\" He\nreplied: \"Are you not aware that the best are most neglected! He who\ncasts our horoscope, provision, and fortune, bestows upon us either good\nluck or wisdom.\"\n\n\nCXVII\n\nIt is proper for him to offer counsel to kings who dreads not to lose\nhis head, nor looks for a reward:--Whether thou strewest heaps of gold\nat his feet, or brandishest an Indian sword over the Unitarian's head,\nto hope or fear he is alike indifferent; and in this the divine unity\nalone he is resolved and firm.\n\n\nCXVIII\n\nIt belongs to the king to displace extortioners, to the superintendent\nof the police to guard against murderers, and to the cazi to decide in\nquarrels and disputes. No two complainants ever referred to the cazi\ncontent to abide by justice:--When thou knowest that in right the claim\nis just, better pay with a grace than by distress and force. If a man is\nrefractory in discharging his revenue, the collector must necessarily\ncoerce him to pay it.\n\n\nCXIX\n\nEvery man's teeth are blunted by acids excepting the cazi's, and they\nrequire sweets:--That cazi, or judge, that can accept of five cucumbers\nas a bribe, will confirm thee in a right to ten fields of melons.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nCXXI\n\nThey asked a wise man, saying: \"Of the many celebrated trees which the\nMost High God has created lofty and umbrageous, they call none azad, or\nfree, excepting the cypress, which bears no fruit; what mystery is there\nin this?\" He replied: \"Each has its appropriate produce and appointed\nseason, during the continuance of which it is fresh and blooming, and\nduring their absence dry and withered; to neither of which states is the\ncypress exposed, being always flourishing; and of this nature are the\nazads, or religious independents. Fix not thy heart on what is\ntransitory; for the Dijlah, or Tigris, will continue to flow through\nBagdad after the race of Khalifs is extinct. If thy hand has plenty, be\nliberal as the date-tree; but if it affords nothing to give away, be an\nazad, or free man, like the cypress.\"\n\n\nCXXII\n\nTwo orders of mankind died, and carried with them regret: such as had\nand did not spend, and such as knew and did not practise:--None can see\nthat wretched mortal a miser who will not endeavor to point out his\nfaults; but were the generous man to have a hundred defects, his\nliberality would cover all his blemishes.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONCLUSION OF THE BOOK\n\n\nThe book of the \"Gulistan, or Flower-Garden,\" was completed through the\nassistance and grace of God. Throughout the whole of this work I have\nnot followed the custom of writers by inserting verses of poetry\nborrowed from former authors:--\"It is more decorous to wear our own\npatched and old cloak than to ask in loan another man's garment.\"\n\nMost of Sa'di's sayings have a dash of hilarity and an odor of gayety\nabout them, in consequence of which short-sighted critics extend the\ntongue of animadversion, saying: It is not the occupation of sensible\nmen to solicit marrow from a shrivelled brain, or to digest the smoke of\na profitless lamp. Nevertheless it cannot be concealed from the\nenlightened judgment of the holy and good, to whom these discourses are\nspecially addressed, that the pearls of salutary admonition are threaded\non the cord of an elegance of language, and the bitter potion of\ninstruction sweetened with the honey of facetiousness, that the taste of\nthe reader may not take disgust, and himself be debarred from the\npleasure of approving of them: \"On our part we offered some good advice,\nand spent an age in bringing it to perfection. If that should not meet\nthe ear of anybody's good-will, prophets deliver their messages, or warn\nmankind; and that is enough.\"\n\n\"_O thou who perusest this book, ask the mercy of God on the author of\nit: his forgiveness on the transcriber. Petition for whatever charitable\ngift thou mayst require for thyself, and implore pardon on the owner_.\"\nMay I crave thy prayer on the English translator? _The book is finished\nthrough the favor of the Lord God Paramount and the bestower of all\ngood_!","title":"The Persian Literature, Comprising The Shah Nameh, The Rubaiyat, The Divan, and The Gulistan, Volume 2","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":44002}