{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_60471/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_60471","id":"gutenberg_60471","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60471","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Poetry","Persian poetry -- Translations into English"],"text":"The Wisdom of the East Series\n\n EDITED BY\n L. CRANMER-BYNG\n Dr. S. A. KAPADIA\n\n THE BUST\u0100N OF SADI\n\n\n\n\n WISDOM OF THE EAST\n\n THE BUST\u0100N OF SADI\n\n TRANSLATED FROM THE PERSIAN\n WITH AN INTRODUCTION\n\n BY A. HART EDWARDS\n\n [Illustration]\n\n LONDON\n JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.\n 1911\n\n PRINTED BY\n HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.,\n LONDON AND AYLESBURY.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n PAGE\n\n INTRODUCTION\n\n In the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful 19\n\n On the Reason for the Writing of the Book 21\n\n Concerning At\u0101bak Abu Bakr, Son of S\u00e1d 22\n\n CHAP.\n\n I. CONCERNING JUSTICE, COUNSEL, AND THE ADMINISTRATION OF\n GOVERNMENT:\n\n Nush\u012brav\u0101n\u2019s Counsel to his Son 24\n\n Discourse concerning Travellers 24\n\n Story illustrating the Need for Deliberation 25\n\n Story of the King whose Coat was Coarse 28\n\n Story of Darius and the Herdsman 29\n\n Story of Abdul Aziz and the Pearl 30\n\n Story of how Tukla was rebuked by a Devotee 31\n\n Discourse concerning Riches and Poverty 31\n\n Story of Qazal Arsal\u0101n and the Fort 32\n\n A Story of Damascus 32\n\n Story of a Bully 34\n\n II. CONCERNING BENEVOLENCE:\n\n Story illustrative of doing good to the Evil 36\n\n Story concerning Fasting 36\n\n Story illustrative of Practical Charity 37\n\n Story of a Man and a Thirsty Dog 38\n\n Story Apropos of Nemesis 39\n\n Story of a Fool and a Fox 40\n\n Story of a Devout Miser 41\n\n Story of H\u0101tim Tai 42\n\n Story of H\u0101tim and the Messenger sent to kill him 43\n\n Discourse concerning Kindness to Orphans 47\n\n III. CONCERNING LOVE:\n\n Discourse concerning Constancy 49\n\n Story of a Dancer 50\n\n Story illustrating the Reality of Love 50\n\n Story Illustrative of Patience 51\n\n Story of One who was Assiduous in Prayer 52\n\n Story of Sultan Mahm\u016bd and his Love for Ay\u0101z 52\n\n Story of a Village Chief 53\n\n Story of a Fire-fly 54\n\n Story of a Moth and a Candle 54\n\n Another Story on the same Subject 55\n\n IV. CONCERNING HUMILITY:\n\n Story of a Raindrop 56\n\n Story Illustrative of Pious Men regarding themselves\n with Contempt 57\n\n Story of Sultan B\u0101yaz\u012bd and Bust\u0101mi 57\n\n Discourse on Conceit 58\n\n Story of the Darwesh and the Proud C\u0101di 59\n\n Story of the Honey-seller 62\n\n Story illustrating the Forbearance of Good Men 63\n\n Story illustrating the Noble-mindedness of Men 64\n\n Story of a Kind Master and his Disobedient Slave 64\n\n Story of Mar\u016bf Karchi and the Sick Traveller 65\n\n Story illustrating the Folly of the Ignoble 67\n\n Story of One who had a Little Knowledge 68\n\n Story illustrating the Humility of the Pious 68\n\n Story illustrating the Value of Soft Words 69\n\n Story illustrating the Wisdom of feigning Deafness 70\n\n Story illustrating Forbearance for the Sake of Friends 71\n\n Story of Luqman, the Sage 72\n\n V. CONCERNING RESIGNATION:\n\n Story of a Soldier of Isfahan 73\n\n Story of the Doctor and the Villager 75\n\n Story of the Villager and his Ass 76\n\n Story illustrating Luck 76\n\n Story of One who blamed his Destiny 76\n\n Story of a Darwesh and his Wife 77\n\n Story of a Vulture and a Kite 77\n\n Story of a Camel 78\n\n Discourse concerning Hypocrisy 79\n\n VI. CONCERNING CONTENTMENT:\n\n Story of the King of Khwarazm 81\n\n Concerning the Evils of Over-eating 81\n\n Story of a Glutton 82\n\n Story of a Recluse 82\n\n Story Illustrating the Evils of Avarice 83\n\n Story of an Ambitious Cat 83\n\n Story of a Short-sighted Man and his High-minded Wife 84\n\n Story of a Holy Man who built a House 85\n\n Story of a Sheikh who became King 85\n\n Discourse concerning Riches 86\n\n VII. CONCERNING EDUCATION:\n\n Discourse concerning the Excellence of Taciturnity 89\n\n Story concerning the keeping of Secrets 90\n\n Story illustrating the Fact that Silence Is Best for Fools 90\n\n Story illustrating the Folly of Impertinence 91\n\n Discourse on Slander 92\n\n Story concerning the same Subject 92\n\n Why Thieving is better than Slandering 92\n\n Sadi and his Envious Class-friend 93\n\n Story of Sadi\u2019s Childhood 93\n\n Story of a Sufi\u2019s Rebuke 94\n\n Concerning Absent Friends 94\n\n Where Slander is Lawful 95\n\n Tale-bearers worse than Back-biters 95\n\n Faridun and his Wise Vazier 96\n\n Discourse concerning Wives 97\n\n Discourse on the Training of Sons 98\n\n Sadi rebuked for his Fault-finding 98\n\n VIII. CONCERNING GRATITUDE:\n\n A Mother\u2019s Warning to her Son 101\n\n Discourse concerning the Art of the Most High God 102\n\n Discourse concerning the Condition of the Weak 103\n\n Story of Tughral, King of Shir\u0101z, and the Hindu Watchman 103\n\n Story of a Thief 104\n\n Story of One who was not what he seemed 105\n\n Story of a Sage Donkey 105\n\n Story illustrating the Evils of Pride 106\n\n Story of Sadi and the Idolaters 106\n\n IX. CONCERNING REPENTANCE:\n\n An Old Man\u2019s Lament 110\n\n Advice and Warning 111\n\n Sadi\u2019s Rebuke from a Camel-driver 112\n\n Story concerning Sorrow for the Dead 113\n\n Story of a Pious Man and a Gold Brick 114\n\n Admonition 115\n\n Moral from an Incident in Sadi\u2019s Childhood 116\n\n Story of a Man who reared a Wolf 117\n\n Story of a Cheat 117\n\n A Recollection of Childhood 118\n\n Story of One who burned his Harvest 118\n\n Discourse on Repentance 119\n\n X. CONCERNING PRAYER:\n\n A Worshipper\u2019s Lament 121\n\n Story of an Idolater 121\n\n NOTES 123\n\n\n\n\nEDITORIAL NOTE\n\n\nThe object of the Editors of this series is a very definite one. They\ndesire above all things that, in their humble way, these books shall be\nthe ambassadors of good-will and understanding between East and West\u2014the\nold world of Thought and the new of Action. In this endeavour, and in\ntheir own sphere, they are but followers of the highest example in the\nland. They are confident that a deeper knowledge of the great ideals and\nlofty philosophy of Oriental thought may help to a revival of that true\nspirit of Charity which neither despises nor fears the nations of another\ncreed and colour. Finally, in thanking press and public for the very\ncordial reception given to the \u201cWisdom of the East\u201d Series, they wish to\nstate that no pains have been spared to secure the best specialists for\nthe treatment of the various subjects at hand.\n\n L. CRANMER-BYNG.\n S. A. KAPADIA.\n\nNORTHBROOK SOCIETY, 21 Cromwell Road, Kensington, S. W.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nIf among the twenty-two works with which Sadi enriched the literature of\nhis country the _Gulist\u0101n_ rank first in popularity, the _Bust\u0101n_ (lit.\n\u201cGarden\u201d) may justly claim equal precedence in point of interest and\nmerit.\n\nNo comprehensive translation of this important classical work has\nhitherto been placed before the reading public, but it cannot be doubted\nthat the character of its contents is such as to fully justify the\nattempt now made to familiarize English readers with the entertaining\nanecdotes and devotional wisdom which the Sage of Shiraz embodied in\nhis Palace of Wealth. This is the name which he applies to the _Bust\u0101n_\nin an introductory chapter, and it is one which springs from something\nmore than a poet\u2019s fancy, for the ten doors, or chapters, with which the\nedifice is furnished lead into a garden that is indeed rich in the fruits\nof knowledge gained by a wide experience of life in many lands, and\nearnest thought.\n\nThe _Bust\u0101n_ is written in verse\u2014a fact which adds considerably to the\ndifficulties of translation, since the invariable rule of Sadi, like\nthat of every other Persian poet we have read, is to sacrifice sense to\nthe exigencies of rhyme and metre. In not a few cases the meaning is so\nconfused on this account that even the native commentators, who possess\na fund of ingenuity in explaining what they do not properly understand,\nhave been compelled to pass over numerous couplets through sheer\ninability to unravel their intricacies and the abstruse ideas of the poet.\n\nProbably in no other language in the world is poetic license so freely\npermitted and indulged in as in Persian. The construction of sentences\nfollows no rule; the order of words is just that which the individual\npoet chooses to adopt, and the idea of time\u2014past, present, and future\u2014is\nignored in the use of tenses, that part of a verb being alone employed\nwhich rhymes the best.\n\nNotwithstanding idiosyncrasies of this kind, the _Bust\u0101n_ is written in a\nstyle that is delightfully pure and admirably adapted to the subject. The\ndevout spirit by which Sadi was characterized throughout his chequered\nlife is revealed in every page of the book. In the _Gulist\u0101n_ he gave\nfree rein to the quaint humour which for many centuries has been the\ndelight of the Eastern peoples, and which an ever-increasing body of\nEnglish readers is learning to appreciate and admire. In the _Bust\u0101n_ the\nhumour is more restrained; its place is taken by a more sober reasoning\nof the duties of mankind towards the Deity and towards their fellow-men.\nDevotion to God and the inflexibility of Fate are the underlying texts\nof every poem, and the ideality of the one and the stern reality of the\nother are portrayed in language the beauty of which, it is to be feared,\nthe English rendering does not always adequately convey.\n\nThe poems abound in metaphor, a figure of style which Eastern writers\nemploy to a degree that is always exaggerated, and sometimes tedious; but\nfor the purpose of this translation, which aims at a happy medium between\nliteral accuracy and the freedom requisite in order to render Oriental\nphraseology into polite English, numerous of the more far-fetched\nallusions have been discarded, to the benefit of the text.\n\nAlthough a memoir of Sadi\u2019s life is included in another volume of this\nseries, it may not be out of place to give here a brief outline of the\npoet\u2019s career, especially as the _Bust\u0101n_ contains several references to\nhis childhood and travels.\n\nSheikh Muslih-ud-din S\u0101di was born in Shiraz, in Persia, A.D. 1175; that\nis to say, 571 years after the flight of Muhammad from Mecca to Medina.\nHe was the son of one Abdu\u2019llah (servant of God), who held a Government\noffice under the Diw\u0101n of that time. Sadi was a child when his father\ndied, as is made clear from the pathetic poem in the second chapter,\nending with these words:\n\n Well do I know the orphan\u2019s sorrow,\n For my father departed in my childhood.\n\nBut poorly endowed with earthly riches, Sadi endured many hardships in\nconsequence of this bereavement, and was eventually obliged to live,\ntogether with his mother, under the protection of a Saracen chief. How\nlong he remained there it is impossible to say, for the reason that his\nbiographers are the reverse of informing. This much is, however, known,\nthat being imbued from early childhood with an insatiable thirst for\nknowledge, he eventually journeyed to Baghdad, then at the zenith of\nits intellectual fame, and was enabled to enter a private school there\nthrough the generosity of a wealthy native gentleman. Making full use of\nthe opportunity so favourably presented, the young aspirant progressed\nrapidly along the path of learning, and at the age of twenty-one made his\nfirst essays in authorship. Some fragmentary poems which he submitted\nwith a long dedication to Shams-ud-din, the Professor of Literature at\nthe Niz\u0101miah College of Baghdad, so pleased that able and discerning man\nthat he at once fixed upon Sadi a liberal allowance from his own private\npurse, with the promise of every further assistance in his power. Soon\nafter this, Sadi was admitted into the college, and ultimately gained an\nIdr\u0101r, or fellowship. In the seventh chapter of the _Bust\u0101n_ he narrates\nan instructive story reminiscent of his studies at Niz\u0101miah, and, prone\nto conceit though he often is, he tells the story against himself.\n\nHis scholastic life did not terminate until he had reached the age of\nthirty. Of the value of this prolonged period of study he himself was\nfully cognisant. \u201cDost thou not know,\u201d he asks in the seventh chapter,\n\u201chow Sadi attained to rank? Neither did he traverse the plains nor\njourney across the seas. In his youth he lived under the yoke of the\nwise: God granted him distinction in after-life. And it is not long\nbefore he who is submissive in obedience exercises command.\u201d No better\nexample of the truth of this passage could be cited than that afforded by\nhis own case.\n\nOn leaving Baghdad, he went in company with his tutor, Abdul Q\u0101dir\nG\u012bl\u0101ni, on a pilgrimage to Mecca. This was the first of many travels\nextending over a period of thirty years, in the course of which he\nvisited Europe, India, and practically every part of what are known as\nthe Near and Middle East. A trip through Syria and Turkey is specifically\nmentioned in this book as inspiring the composition of the _Bust\u0101n_. Not\nwishing, as he tells us, to return empty-handed to his friends at Shiraz,\nhe built the Palace of Wealth, and offered it to them as a gift. He does\nnot conceal the high opinion which he himself placed upon this product of\nhis gifted pen. The gracefully worded phrases with which he predicted the\nundying popularity of the _Gulist\u0101n_ finds a parallel in the dedication\nof the _Bust\u0101n_ to Atab\u0101k Abu Bakr-bin-S\u00e1d, the illustrious monarch of\nPersia beneath whose protection Sadi spent the latter half of his life.\n\n\u201cAlthough not wishing to sing the praises of kings,\u201d he writes, \u201cI have\ndedicated this book to one so that perhaps the pious will say that Sadi,\nwho surpassed all in eloquence, lived in the time of Abu Bakr S\u00e1d.\u201d Then,\naddressing the king, he adds: \u201cHappy is thy fortune that Sadi\u2019s date\ncoincides with thine, for as long as the moon and sun are in the skies\nthy memory will remain eternal in this book.\u201d This conceit is pardonable,\nsince it has been amply justified by time.\n\nAfter the thirty years of travel, Sadi, becoming elderly, settled down\nin Persia, where, as has been said, he gained the favour of the ruling\nprince, from whom he derived not only the dignity and the more tangible\nadvantages of the post of Poet Laureate, but his takhallus, or titular\nname, of Sadi. He died at the ripe age of 116, and was buried in his\nnative city.\n\nIf the _Bust\u0101n_ were the only monument that remained of his genius, his\nname would assuredly still be inscribed in the roll of the Immortals.\nOne feature of his great intellectual faculties needs to be emphasized,\nand all the more so because it is apt to be overlooked. That is the\nincreasing power which they assumed as he advanced in years, the truth of\nwhich can be understood when it is stated that he composed the _Bust\u0101n_\nat the age of 82, the _Gulist\u0101n_ appearing twelve months later. Few,\nif any, instances of such sustained mental activity are to be found\nelsewhere in the entire world\u2019s history of letters.\n\nUnder the several headings of the various chapters a wide range of\nethical subjects is discussed, the whole forming a compendium of moral\nphilosophy the broad principles of which must remain for all time as\nirrefutable as the precepts of Scriptural teaching.\n\nSadi\u2019s spiritual message is not that of a visionary. His religion was an\neminently practical one\u2014he had no sympathies with the recluse and the\nascetic. To fulfil one\u2019s duties towards one\u2019s fellow-men is to fulfil\none\u2019s duty towards the Deity. That is the root-idea of his teachings.\n\u201cReligion,\u201d he observes, \u201cconsists only in the service of the people: it\ndoes not lie in the rosary, or prayer-rug, or mendicant\u2019s habit.\u201d\n\nThis couplet, occurring in the opening chapter, is put into the mouth\nof a certain pious man whom one of the kings of Persia is said to have\nvisited in a repentant mood for the purpose of seeking counsel. The\nstory, like many others in the book, may or may not have any foundation\nin fact, \u201cthe histories of ancient kings,\u201d which the poet frequently\nquotes as his authority, being rather too vague to be convincing. At the\nsame time, the historical allusions form an interesting and instructive\nbackground to the legends and the moral precepts so abundantly interwoven\namong them.\n\nAlthough Persia is only yet in the process of readjusting her ideas of\ngovernment and the prerogatives of rulers, principles more advanced than\nseem compatible with despotism have been for many centuries current among\nher people, in theory, at least, if not in practice. Muhammad said that\na little practice with much knowledge was better than much practice with\nlittle knowledge. On that ground Persia has defence, for the knowledge\ncertainly was there. What could better describe the true relationship\nbetween king and people than Sadi\u2019s thirteenth-century epigram?\u2014\n\n Subjects are as the root and the king is as the tree,\n And the tree, O son, gains strength from the root.\n\nNot many months ago the autocratic tree at Teheran was rudely severed\nfrom its root; perchance the successors of Abu Bakr were not of those to\nwhom \u201cthe words of Sadi are agreeable.\u201d\n\nThe saving grace of benevolence is illustrated in the second chapter\nby means of some entertaining anecdotes, of two of which the hero is\nH\u0101tim Tai, the famous Arabian chief, whose generosity was such that he\npreferred to die rather than disappoint the messenger sent by a jealous\nking to slay him. The story of the Darwesh and the Fox is noteworthy\ninasmuch as it throws a much-needed light upon the Eastern interpretation\nof all that is implied by \u201cqismat.\u201d It is commonly supposed that the\nsense of inevitability removes from the Eastern\u2019s mind the necessity for\nindividual effort. This view is distinctly erroneous. No such pernicious\ndoctrine is, at any rate, subscribed to by the educated classes; to the\nlazy and ne\u2019er-do-well who plead Fate as their excuse, Sadi points the\nmoral.\n\nAfter demonstrating in the two succeeding chapters the powerlessness of\nman to avert the decrees of Fate, and the virtues of contentment, the\npoet passes on to discuss the cultivation of the mind. The comparison\nhere drawn between the human mind and a city \u201cfull of good and evil\ndesires,\u201d of which the Ego is the Sultan and Reason the Vazier, is\noriginal and full of meaning. Despite his own much-vaunted eloquence\nand facility of speech, Sadi condemns in scathing terms the man of many\nwords, remarking poignantly that \u201ca grain of musk is better than a heap\nof mud.\u201d So, too, in his opinion, is a thief better than a back-biter,\nand, apropos of the gentler sex, a woman of good nature better than one\nof beauty. The advice to take a new wife every year cannot be regarded\nseriously, even though it be true that last year\u2019s almanac has lost its\nusefulness. More worthy of the poet is the discourse on the training of\nchildren. Nothing truer than the sentiments expressed in this poem did he\never utter, and in England to-day there can be few who would dispute them.\n\nExcessive charm pervades the three concluding chapters. If that bigotry\nand spirit of intolerance of which the Mussulman, no less than the\nfollowers of other creeds, is guilty is revealed in no small measure,\ncriticism on that score must give place to wonder and admiration for the\nsincere and perfervid homage which the poet renders to the Deity whom, in\nthe essence, all nations worship.\n\nThe narrative, in the eighth chapter, of Sadi\u2019s adventure with the\nidolaters in Guzerat will be found amusing as well as enlightening.\n\nNothing now remains for the translator but to join with Sadi in his plea\nfor indulgent criticism:\n\n Never have I heard it said\n The wise found fault with what they read.\n\n Though of Chinese cloth a robe be made,\n Inside must a cotton lining be laid.\n\n If thou wouldst but the cloth, seek not to condemn\u2014\n Gloss over the cotton with acumen.\n\n On the Day of Judgment the wicked will be\n Forgiven, through them that have purity.\n\n If in my words thou evil find,\n Do likewise, forgive, for more is behind.\n\n If a word in a thousand suit thy taste,\n Do not denounce the rest in haste.\n\nThe poet goes on to remark that his compositions are esteemed in Persia\nas is the choicest musk of Tartary: the translator is less fortunate and\nmore modest.\n\n A. H. E.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BUST\u0100N OF SADI\n\n\n\n\nPROLOGUE\n\n\nIN THE NAME OF GOD, THE COMPASSIONATE, THE MERCIFUL\n\nIn the name of Him who created and sustains the world, the Sage who\nendowed tongue with speech.\n\nHe attains no honour who turns the face from the door of His mercy.\n\nThe kings of the earth prostrate themselves before Him in supplication.\n\nHe seizes not in haste the disobedient, nor drives away the penitent\nwith violence. The two worlds are as a drop of water in the ocean of His\nknowledge.\n\nHe withholds not His bounty though His servants sin; upon the surface of\nthe earth has He spread a feast, in which both friend and foe may share.\n\nPeerless He is, and His kingdom is eternal. Upon the head of one He\nplaceth a crown; another he hurleth from the throne to the ground.\n\nThe fire of His friend He turneth into a flower-garden; through the\nwaters of the Nile He sendeth His foes to perdition.\n\nBehind the veil He seeth all, and concealeth our faults with His own\ngoodness.\n\nHe is near to them that are downcast, and accepteth the prayers of them\nthat lament.\n\nHe knoweth of the things that exist not, of secrets that are untold.\n\nHe causeth the moon and the sun to revolve, and spreadeth water upon the\nearth.\n\nIn the heart of a stone hath He placed a jewel; from nothing hath He\ncreated all that is.\n\nWho can reveal the secret of His qualities; what eye can see the limits\nof His beauty?\n\nThe bird of thought cannot soar to the height of His presence, nor the\nhand of understanding reach to the skirt of His praise.\n\nThink not, O Sadi, that one can walk in the road of purity except in the\nfootsteps of Muhammad.\n\nHe is the patriarch of the prophets, the guide of the path of salvation;\nthe mediator of mankind, and the chief of the Court of Judgment. What of\nthy praises can Sadi utter? The mercy of God be upon thee, O Prophet, and\npeace.\n\n\nON THE REASON FOR THE WRITING OF THE BOOK\n\nI travelled in many regions of the globe and passed the days in the\ncompany of many men. I reaped advantages in every corner, and gleaned an\near of corn from every harvest. But I saw none like the pious and devout\nmen of Shiraz\u2014upon which land be the grace of God\u2014my attachment with whom\ndrew away my heart from Syria and Turkey.\n\nI regretted that I should go from the garden of the world empty-handed to\nmy friends, and reflected: \u201cTravellers bring sugar-candy from Egypt as a\npresent to their friends. Although I have no candy, yet have I words that\nare sweeter. The sugar that I bring is not that which is eaten, but what\nknowers of truth take away with respect.\u201d\n\nWhen I built this Palace of Wealth,[1] I furnished it with ten doors of\ninstruction.[2]\n\nIt was in the year 655 that this famous treasury became full of the\npearls of eloquence. A quilted robe of silk, or of Chinese embroidery,\nmust of necessity be padded with cotton; if thou obtain aught of the\nsilk, fret not\u2014be generous and conceal the cotton. I have heard that\nin the day of Hope and Fear the Merciful One will pardon the evil for\nthe sake of the good. If thou see evil in my words, do thou likewise.\nIf one couplet among a thousand please thee, generously withhold thy\nfault-finding.\n\nAssuredly, my compositions are esteemed in Persia as the priceless musk\nof Khutan. Sadi brings roses to the garden with mirth. His verses are\nlike dates encrusted with sugar\u2014when opened, a stone[3] is revealed\ninside.\n\n\nCONCERNING AT\u0100BAK ABU BAKR, SON OF S\u00c1D[4]\n\nAlthough not desiring to write in praise of kings, I have inscribed this\nbook to the name of a certain one so that perhaps the pious may say:\n\u201cSadi, who surpassed all in eloquence, lived in the time of Abu Bakr, the\nson of S\u00e1d.\u201d Thus, in this book will his memory remain so long as the\nmoon and sun are in the skies. Beyond count are his virtues\u2014may the world\nfulfil his desires, the heavens be his friend, and the Creator be his\nguardian.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nCONCERNING JUSTICE, COUNSEL, AND THE ADMINISTRATION OF GOVERNMENT\n\n\nThe goodness of God surpasseth imagination; what service can the tongue\nof praise perform?\n\nKeep, O God, this king,[5] Abu Bakr, beneath whose shadow is the\nprotection of the people, long established upon his throne, and make his\nheart to live in obedience to Thee. Render fruitful his tree of hope;\nprolong his youth, and adorn his face with mercy.\n\nO King! deck not thyself in royal garments when thou comest to worship:\nmake thy supplications like a darwesh, saying: \u201cO God! powerful and\nstrong Thou art. I am no monarch, but a beggar in Thy court. Unless Thy\nhelp sustain me, what can issue from my hand? Succour me, and give me the\nmeans of virtue, or else how can I benefit my people?\u201d\n\nIf thou rule by day, pray fervently by night. The great among thy\nservants wait upon thee at thy door; thus shouldest thou serve, with thy\nhead in worship upon God\u2019s threshold.\n\n\nNUSH\u012aRAV\u0100N\u2019S[6] COUNSEL TO HIS SON\n\nThus, when at the point of death, did Nush\u012brav\u0101n counsel his son Hurmuz:\n\n\u201cCherish the poor, and seek not thine own comfort. The shepherd should\nnot sleep while the wolf is among the sheep. Protect the needy, for a\nking wears his crown for the sake of his subjects. The people are as\nthe root and the king as the tree; and the tree, O son, gains strength\nfrom the root. He should not oppress the people who has fear of injury\nto his kingdom. Seek not plenteousness in that land where the people are\nafflicted by the king. Fear them that are proud and them that fear not\nGod.\u201d\n\n\nDISCOURSE CONCERNING TRAVELLERS\n\nThe king who deals harshly with merchants who come from afar closes the\ndoor of well-being upon the whole of his subjects. When do the wise\nreturn to the land of which they hear rumours of bad custom?\n\nIf thou desire a good name, hold merchants and travellers in high esteem,\nfor they carry thy reputation through the world. Be cautious also lest,\nbeing enemies in the guise of friends, they seek thy injury.\n\nAdvance the dignities of old friends, for treachery comes not from them\nthat are cherished.\n\nWhen thy servant becomes stricken in years, be not unmindful of thy\nobligations towards him. If old age binds his hand from service, the hand\nof generosity yet remains to thee.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING THE NEED FOR DELIBERATION\n\nThere once landed at a seaport of Arabia a man who had widely travelled\nand was versed in many sciences. He presented himself at the palace of\nthe king, who was so captivated by his wisdom and knowledge that he\nappointed the traveller to the vaziership.\n\nWith such skill did he perform the duties of that office that he offended\nnone, and brought the kingdom completely beneath his sway. He closed the\nmouths of slanderers, because nothing evil issued from his hand; and\nthe envious, who could detect no fault in him, bemoaned their lack of\nopportunity to do him injury.\n\nAt the court, however, there were two beautiful young slaves towards whom\nthe vazier displayed no small measure of affection. (If thou wouldst that\nthy rank endure, incline not thy heart towards the fair; and though thy\nlove be innocent, have care, for there is fear of loss.)\n\nThe former vazier, who had been dismissed to make room for the newcomer,\nmaliciously carried the story to the king.\n\n\u201cI know not,\u201d he said, \u201cwho this new minister may be, but he lives not\nchastely in this land. I have heard that he intrigues with two of thy\nslaves\u2014he is a perfidious man, and lustful. It is not right that one such\nas he should bring ill-fame upon the court. I am not so unmindful of the\nfavours that I have received at thy hands that I should see these things\nand remain silent.\u201d\n\nAngered by what he heard, the king stealthily watched the new vazier, and\nwhen, later, he observed the latter glance towards one of the slaves, who\nreturned a covert smile, his suspicions of evil became at once confirmed.\n\nSummoning the minister to his side, he said: \u201cI did not know thee to be\nshameless and unworthy. Such lofty station is not thy proper place. But\nthe fault is mine. If I cherish one who is of evil nature, assuredly do I\nsanction disloyalty in my house.\u201d\n\n\u201cSince my skirt is free from guilt,\u201d the vazier replied, \u201cI fear not the\nmalignity of the evil-wisher. I know not who has accused me of what I\nhave not done.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis was told me by the old vazier,\u201d explained the king.\n\nThe vazier smiled and said, \u201cWhatever he said is no cause for wonder.\nWhat would the envious man say when he saw me in his former place? Him I\nknew to be my enemy that day when Khasrav[7] appointed him to lower rank\nthan me. Never till Doomsday will he accept me as a friend when in my\npromotion he sees his own decline. If thou wilt give ear to thy slave I\nwill narrate a story that is apropos.\n\n\u201cIn a dream some one saw the Prince of Evil, whose figure was as erect\nas a fir-tree, and whose face was as fair as the sun. Regarding him, the\nsleeper said: \u2018O splendid being! Mankind knows not of thy beauty. Fearful\nof countenance do they imagine thee, and hideous have they depicted thee\non the walls of the public baths.\u2019 The Prince of Evil smiled: \u2018Such is\nnot my figure,\u2019 he replied; \u2018but the pencil was in the hand of an enemy!\nThe root of their stock did I throw out of Paradise; now in malice do\nthey paint me ugly.\u2019\n\n\u201cIn the same way,\u201d continued the vazier, \u201calthough my fame is good, the\nenvious speak ill of me. Those who are guiltless are brave in speech;\nonly he who gives false weight has fear of the inspector.\u201d\n\n\u201cForsooth,\u201d the king exclaimed, his anger rising, \u201cI heard this not\nonly from thine enemy. Have I not seen with my own eyes that among the\nassemblage of this court thou regardest none but those two slaves?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is true,\u201d the vazier said, \u201cbut I will explain this matter if thou\nwilt listen. Dost thou not know that the beggar eyes the rich with envy?\nOnce, like those slaves, did I possess both grace and beauty. Two rows\nof teeth were set behind my lips, erect like a wall of ivory[8] bricks.\nOne by one, like ancient bridges, have they fallen\u2014regard me now as here\nI stand! Why may I not glance with envy at those slaves when they recall\nto me the past?\u201d\n\nWhen the wise man had pierced this pearl of lustrous truth, the king\nexclaimed: \u201cBetter than this it would be impossible to speak. Permissible\nit is to look toward the fair in one who can thus excuse himself. Had I\nnot in wisdom acted with deliberation, I should have wronged him through\nthe speech of an enemy.\u201d\n\nTo carry the hand quickly to the sword in anger is to carry the back of\nthe hand to the teeth in regret. Heed not the words of the envious; if\nthou actest upon them, remorseful wilt thou be.\n\nAdmonishing the slanderer for his evil words, the king further increased\nthe dignity of the vazier, who directed the affairs of the State for\nmany years with justice and benevolence, and was long remembered for his\nvirtues.\n\n\nSTORY OF THE KING WHOSE COAT WAS COARSE\n\nA certain just king habitually wore a coat of coarse material. Some one\nsaid to him: \u201cO happy king! Make for thyself a coat of Chinese brocade.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat which I wear,\u201d the king replied, \u201caffords both covering and\ncomfort; anything beyond that is luxury. I collect not tribute that I may\nadorn my person and my throne. If, like a woman, I ornament my body, how,\nlike a man, can I repulse the enemy? The royal treasuries are not for me\nalone\u2014they are filled for the sake of the army, not for the purchase of\nornaments and jewellery.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY OF DARIUS[9] AND THE HERDSMAN\n\nDarius, king of Persia, became separated from his retinue while hunting.\nA herdsman came running towards him, and the king, assuming the man to be\nan enemy, adjusted his bow. Thereupon the herdsman cried: \u201cI am no enemy;\nseek not to kill me. I am he who tends the king\u2019s horses, and in this\nmeadow am thus engaged.\u201d\n\nBecoming again composed, the king smiled and said: \u201cHeaven has befriended\nthee; otherwise would I have drawn the bowstring to my ear.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt showeth neither wise administration nor good judgment,\u201d replied\nthe herdsman, \u201cwhen the king knows not an enemy from a friend. Those\nwho are greatest should know those who are least. Many times hast thou\nseen me in thy presence, and asked of me concerning the horses and the\ngrazing-fields. Now that I come again before thee thou takest me for an\nenemy. More skilled am I, O king, for I can distinguish one horse out of\na hundred thousand. Tend thou thy people as I, with sense and judgment,\ntend my horses.\u201d\n\nRuin brings sorrow to that kingdom where the wisdom of the shepherd\nexceeds that of the king.\n\n\nSTORY OF ABDUL AZIZ AND THE PEARL\n\nThe story is told of Abdul Aziz that he had a pearl of great beauty and\nvalue set in a ring. Shortly after, a severe drought occurred, causing\ndistress among the people. Moved by compassion, the king ordered the\npearl to be sold and the money that it fetched to be given to the poor.\n\nSome one chided him for doing this, saying: \u201cNever again will such a\nstone come into thy hands.\u201d\n\nWeeping, the king replied: \u201cUgly is an ornament upon the person of a king\nwhen the hearts of his people are distressed by want. Better for me is a\nstoneless ring than a sorrowing people.\u201d\n\nHappy is he who sets the ease of others above his own. The virtuous\ndesire not their own pleasure at the expense of others. When the king\nsleeps neglectfully upon his couch, I trow not that the beggar finds\nenviable repose.\n\n\nSTORY OF HOW TUKLA WAS REBUKED BY A DEVOTEE\n\nTukla, king of Persia, once visited a devotee and said: \u201cFruitless have\nbeen my years. None but the beggar carries riches from the world when\nearthly dignities are passed. Hence, would I now sit in the corner of\ndevotion that I might usefully employ the few short days that yet remain\nto me.\u201d\n\nThe devotee was angered at these words.\n\n\u201cEnough!\u201d he cried. \u201cReligion consists alone in the service of the\npeople; it finds no place in the rosary, or prayer-rug, or tattered\ngarment. Be a king in sovereignty and a devotee in purity of morals.\nAction, not words, is demanded by religion, for words without action are\nvoid of substance.\u201d\n\n\nDISCOURSE CONCERNING RICHES AND POVERTY\n\nSay not that no dignity excels that of sovereignty, for no kingdom is\nmore free from care than that of the darwesh.\n\nThey that are the most lightly burdened reach the destination first.\n\nThe poor man is afflicted by lack of bread; the king by the cares of his\nkingdom.\n\nThough one may rule and another may serve, though the one be exalted to\nthe height of Saturn and the other languish in a prison, when death has\nclaimed them it will not be possible to distinguish between the two.\n\n\nSTORY OF QAZAL ARSAL\u0100N[10] AND THE FORT\n\nQazal Arsal\u0101n possessed a fort, which raised its head to the height of\nAlwand.[11] Secure from all were those within its walls, for its roads\nwere a labyrinth, like the curls of a bride.\n\nFrom a learned traveller Qazal once inquired: \u201cDidst thou ever, in thy\nwanderings, see a fort as strong as this?\u201d\n\n\u201cSplendid it is,\u201d was the reply, \u201cbut methinks not it confers much\nstrength. Before thee, did not other kings possess it for a while, then\npass away? After thee, will not other kings assume control, and eat the\nfruits of the tree of thy hope?\u201d\n\nIn the estimation of the wise, the world is a false gem that passes each\nmoment from one hand to another.\n\n\nA STORY OF DAMASCUS\n\nSuch famine was there once in Damascus that lovers forgot their love.\nSo miserly was the sky towards the earth that the sown fields and the\ndate-trees moistened not their lips. Fountains dried up, and no water\nremained but the tears in the eyes of the orphans. If smoke issued from\na chimney, nought was it but the sighs of the widows. Like beggars, the\ntrees stood leafless, and the mountains lost their verdure. The locusts\ndevoured the gardens, and men devoured the locusts.\n\nAt that time came to me a friend on whose bones skin alone remained. I\nwas astonished, since he was of lofty rank and rich. \u201cO friend!\u201d said I,\n\u201cwhat misfortune has befallen thee?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is thy sense?\u201d he answered. \u201cSeest thou not that the severities of\nfamine have reached their limit? Rain comes not from the sky, neither do\nthe lamentations of the suffering reach to heaven.\u201d\n\n\u201cThou, at least,\u201d I urged, \u201chast nought to fear; poison kills only where\nthere is no antidote.\u201d\n\nRegarding me with indignation, as a learned man regards a fool, my friend\nreplied: \u201cAlthough a man be safely on the shore, he stands not supine\nwhile his friends are drowning. My face is not pale through want; the\nsorrows of the poor have wounded my heart. Although, praise be to Allah,\nI am free from wounds, I tremble when I see the wounds of others.\u201d\n\nBitter are the pleasures of him who is in health when a sick man is at\nhis side. When the beggar has not eaten, poisonous and baneful is one\u2019s\nfood.\n\n\nSTORY OF A BULLY\n\nA bully fell down a well and passed the night in wailing and lamenting.\nSome one threw a stone down on to his head, and said: \u201cDidst thou ever\ngo to any one\u2019s assistance that thou shouldst to-day cry out for help?\nDidst thou ever sow the seeds of virtue? Who would place a salve upon\nthy wounds when the hearts of all cry out by reason of thy tyrannies?\nAcross our path thou didst dig a pit, into which, perforce, hast thou now\nfallen.\u201d\n\nIf thou do evil expect not goodness; never does the withered grape-vine\nbring forth fruit.\n\nO thou who soweth the seed in autumn! I think not that thou wilt reap the\ncorn at harvest-time.\n\nIf thou nourish the thorn-tree of the desert, think not that thou wilt\never eat its fruit.\n\nGreen dates come not from the poisonous colocynth; when thou sowest seed,\nhope only for the fruit of that very seed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nCONCERNING BENEVOLENCE\n\n\nIf thou art wise, incline towards the essential truth, for that remains,\nwhile the things that are external pass away.\n\nHe who has neither knowledge, generosity, nor piety resembles a man in\nform alone.\n\nHe sleeps at peace beneath the ground who made tranquil the hearts of men.\n\nGive now of thy gold and bounty, for eventually will it pass from thy\ngrasp. Open the door of thy treasure to-day, for to-morrow the key will\nnot be in thy hands.\n\nIf thou would not be distressed on the Day of Judgment, forget not them\nthat are distressed.\n\nDrive not the poor man empty from thy door, lest thou should wander\nbefore the doors of strangers.\n\nHe protects the needy who fears that he himself may become needful of the\nhelp of others.\n\nArt not thou, too, a supplicant? Be grateful, and turn not away them that\nsupplicate thee.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATIVE OF DOING GOOD TO THE EVIL\n\nA woman said to her husband: \u201cDo not again buy bread from the baker in\nthis street. Make thy purchases in the market, for this man shows wheat\nand sells barley,[12] and he has no customers but a swarm of flies.\u201d\n\n\u201cO light of my life,\u201d the husband answered, \u201cpay no heed to his trickery.\nIn the hope of our custom has he settled in this place, and not humane\nwould it be to deprive him of his profits.\u201d\n\nFollow the path of the righteous, and, if thou stand upon thy feet,\nstretch out thy hand to them that are fallen.\n\n\nSTORY CONCERNING FASTING\n\nThe wife of an officer of a king said to her husband: \u201cArise, and go to\nthe royal palace, that they may give thee food, for thy children are in\nwant.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe kitchen is closed to-day,\u201d he answered; \u201clast night the Sultan\nresolved to fast awhile.\u201d\n\nIn the despair of hunger, the woman bowed her head and murmured: \u201cWhat\ndoes the Sultan seek from his fasting when his breaking the fast means a\nfestival of joy for our children?\u201d\n\nOne who eats that good may follow is better than a Mammon-worshipper who\ncontinually fasts. Proper it is to fast with him who feeds the needy in\nthe morning.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATIVE OF PRACTICAL CHARITY\n\nA certain man had generosity without the means of displaying it; his\npittance was unequal to his benevolence. (May riches never fall to the\nmean, nor poverty be the lot of the generous!) His charities exceeding\nthe depth of his pocket, therefore was he always short of money.\n\nOne day a poor man wrote to him saying: \u201cO thou of happy nature! Assist\nme with funds, since for some time have I languished in prison.\u201d\n\nThe generous man would have willingly acceded to the request, but he\npossessed not so much as the smallest piece of money. But he sent someone\nto the creditors of the prisoner with the message: \u201cFree this man for a\nfew days, and I will be his security.\u201d\n\nThen did he visit the prisoner in his cell and say: \u201cArise, and fly with\nhaste from the city.\u201d\n\nWhen a sparrow sees open the door of its cage, it tarries not a moment.\nLike the morning breeze, the prisoner flew from the land. Thereupon, they\nseized his benefactor, saying: \u201cProduce either the man or the money.\u201d\n\nPowerless to do either, he went to prison, for a bird escaped is ne\u2019er\nrecaught. Long there did he remain, invoking help from none, nor\ncomplaining, though he slept not at nights through restlessness.\n\nA pious man came to him and said: \u201cI did not think that thou wert\ndishonest; why art thou here imprisoned?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo villainy have I committed,\u201d he replied. \u201cI saw a helpless man in\nbonds and his freedom only in my own confinement. I did not deem it right\nthat I should live in comfort while another was fettered by the legs.\u201d\n\nEventually he died, leaving a good name behind.\n\nHappy is he whose name dies not! He who sleeps beneath the earth with a\nheart that lives is better than he who lives with a soul that is dead,\nfor the former remains for ever.\n\n\nSTORY OF A MAN AND A THIRSTY DOG\n\nIn a desert a man found a dog that was dying from thirst. Using his hat\nas a bucket, he fetched water from a well and gave it to the helpless\nanimal. The prophet of the time stated that God had forgiven the man his\nsins because of his kindly act.\n\nReflect, if thou be a tyrant, and make a profession of benevolence.\n\nHe who shows kindness to a dog will not do less towards the good among\nhis fellows.\n\nBe generous to the extent of thy power. If thou hast not dug a well in\nthe desert, at least place a lamp in a shrine.[13]\n\nCharity distributed from an ox\u2019s skin that is filled with treasure counts\nfor less than a dinar given from the wages of toil.\n\nEvery man\u2019s burden is suited to his strength\u2014heavy to the ant is the foot\nof the locust.\n\nDo good to others so that on the morrow God may not deal harshly with\nthee.\n\nBe lenient with thy slave, for he may one day become a king, like a pawn\nthat becomes a queen.\n\n\nSTORY APROPOS OF NEMESIS\n\nA poor man complained of his distressed condition to one who was rich as\nwell as ill-dispositioned. The latter refused to help him, and turned\nroughly upon him in anger.\n\nThe beggar\u2019s heart bled by reason of this violence: \u201cStrange!\u201d he\nreflected, \u201cthat this rich man should be of such forbidding countenance!\nPerhaps he fears not the bitterness of begging.\u201d\n\nThe rich man ordered his slave to drive the beggar away. As a result of\nhis ingratitude for the blessings that he enjoyed, Fortune forsook him,\nand he lost all that he possessed. His slave passed into the hands of a\ngenerous man of enlightened mind, who was as gladdened at the sight of a\nbeggar as the latter is at the sight of riches.[14]\n\nOne night a beggar asked alms of the latter, and he commanded his slave\nto give the man to eat. When the slave took food to the supplicant he\ninvoluntarily uttered a cry, and went back weeping.\n\n\u201cWhy these tears?\u201d his master asked.\n\n\u201cMy heart is grieved at the plight of this unfortunate old man,\u201d the\nslave replied. \u201cOnce was he the owner of much wealth, and I his slave.\u201d\n\nThe master smiled and said: \u201cThis is not cause for grief, O son. Time,\nin its revolutions, is not unjust. Was not that indigent man formerly a\nmerchant who carried his head high in the air through pride? I am he whom\nthat day he drove from his door. Fate has now put him in the place that I\nthen occupied. Heaven befriended me and washed the dust of sorrow from my\nface. Though God, in His wisdom, closed one door, another, in His mercy,\ndid He open.\u201d\n\nMany a needy one has become filled, and many a Plutos has gone empty.\n\n\nSTORY OF A FOOL AND A FOX\n\nSome one saw a fox that was bereft of the use of its legs. He was\nwondering how the animal managed to live in this condition when a tiger\ndrew near with a jackal in its claws. The tiger ate the jackal, and the\nfox finished the remains. The next day also did the Omnipotent Provider\nsend the fox its daily meal.\n\nThe eyes of the man were thus opened to the light of true knowledge.\n\u201cAfter this,\u201d he reflected, \u201cI will sit in a corner like an ant, for the\nelephant\u2019s portion is not gained by reason of its strength.\u201d\n\nSo did he sit in silence, waiting for his daily food to come from the\nInvisible. No one heeded him, and soon was he reduced to skin and bones.\nWhen, at last, his senses had almost gone through weakness, a voice came\nout from the wall of a mosque, saying:\n\n\u201cGo, O false one! Be the rending tiger, and pose not as a paralytic fox.\nExert thyself like the tiger, so that something may remain from thy\nspoil. Why, like the fox, appease thy hunger with leavings? Eat of the\nfruits of thine own endeavours; strive like a man, and relieve the wants\nof the needy.\u201d\n\nSeize, O youth, the hand of the aged; fall not thyself, saying, \u201cHold\nmy hand.\u201d In the two worlds does he obtain reward who does good to the\npeople of God.\n\n\nSTORY OF A DEVOUT MISER\n\nIn the remote regions of Turkey there lived a good and pious man, whom\nI and some fellow-travellers once visited. He received us cordially,\nand seated us with respect. He had vineyards, and wheat-fields, slaves\nand gold, but was as miserly as a leafless tree. His feelings were warm,\nbut his fireplace was cold. He passed the night awake in prayer, and we\nin hunger. In the morning he girt his loins and recommenced the same\npoliteness of the previous night.\n\nOne of our party was of merry wit and temper. \u201cCome, give us food in\nchange for a kiss,\u201d[15] he said, \u201cfor that is better to a hungry man. In\nserving me, place not thy hand upon my shoe, but give me bread and strike\nthy shoe upon my head.\u201d\n\nExcellence is attained by generosity, not by vigils in the night.\n\nIdle words are a hollow drum; invocations without merit are a weak\nsupport.\n\n\nSTORY OF H\u0100TIM TAI[16]\n\nH\u0101tim Tai possessed a horse whose fleetness was as that of the morning\nbreeze. Of this was the Sultan of Turkey informed.\n\n\u201cLike H\u0101tim Tai,\u201d he was told, \u201cnone is equal in generosity; like his\nhorse, nothing is equal in speed and gait. As a ship in the sea it\ntraverses the desert, while the eagle, exhausted, lags behind.\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom H\u0101tim will I request that horse,\u201d the king replied. \u201cIf he be\ngenerous and give it to me, then shall I know that his fame is true; if\nnot, that it is but the sound of a hollow drum.\u201d\n\nSo he despatched a messenger with ten followers to H\u0101tim. They alighted\nat the house of the Arab chief, who prepared a feast and killed a\nhorse[17] in their honour.\n\nOn the following day, when the messenger explained the object of his\nmission, H\u0101tim became as one mad with grief. \u201cWhy,\u201d he cried, \u201cdidst\nthou not give me before thy message? That swift-paced horse did I roast\nlast night for thee to eat. No other means had I to entertain thee; that\nhorse alone stood by my tent, and I would not that my guests should sleep\nfasting.\u201d\n\nTo the men he gave money and splendid robes, and when the news of his\ngenerosity reached to Turkey, the king showered a thousand praises upon\nhis nature.\n\n\nSTORY OF H\u0100TIM AND THE MESSENGER SENT TO KILL HIM\n\nOne of the kings of Yaman was renowned for his liberality, yet the name\nof H\u0101tim was never mentioned in his presence without his falling into a\nrage. \u201cHow long,\u201d he would ask, \u201cwilt thou speak of that vain man, who\npossesses neither a kingdom, nor power, nor wealth?\u201d\n\nOn one occasion he prepared a royal feast, which the people were invited\nto attend. Someone began to speak of H\u0101tim, and another to praise him.\nEnvious, the king despatched a man to slay the Arabian chief, reflecting:\n\u201cSo long as H\u0101tim lives, my name will never become famous.\u201d\n\nThe messenger departed, and travelled far seeking for H\u0101tim that he might\nkill him. As he went along the road a youth came out to meet him. He was\nhandsome and wise, and showed friendliness toward the messenger, whom he\ntook to his house to pass the night. Such liberality did he shower upon\nhis guest that the heart of the evil-minded one was turned to goodness.\n\nIn the morning the generous youth kissed his hand and said: \u201cRemain with\nme for a few days.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am unable to tarry here,\u201d replied the messenger, \u201cfor urgent business\nis before me.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf thou wilt entrust me with thy secret,\u201d said the youth, \u201cto aid thee\nwill I spare no effort.\u201d\n\n\u201cO generous man!\u201d was the reply, \u201cgive ear to me, for I know that the\ngenerous are concealers of secrets. Perhaps in this country thou knowest\nH\u0101tim, who is of lofty mind and noble qualities. The king of Yaman\ndesires his head, though I know not what enmity has arisen between them.\nGrateful shall I be if thou wilt direct me to where he is. This hope from\nthy kindness do I entertain, O friend.\u201d\n\nThe youth laughed and said: \u201cI am H\u0101tim; see here my head! strike it from\nmy body with thy sword. I would not that harm should befall thee, or that\nthou shouldst fail in thy endeavour.\u201d\n\nThrowing aside his sword, the man fell on the ground and kissed the dust\nof H\u0101tim\u2019s feet. \u201cIf I injured a hair on thy body,\u201d he cried, \u201cI should\nno longer be a man.\u201d So saying, he clasped H\u0101tim to his breast and took\nhis way back to Yaman.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d said the king as the man approached, \u201cwhat news hast thou? Why\ndidst thou not tie his head to thy saddle-straps? Perhaps that famous one\nattacked thee and thou wert too weak to engage in combat.\u201d\n\nThe messenger kissed the ground and said: \u201cO wise and just king! I found\nH\u0101tim, and saw him to be generous and full of wisdom, and in courage\nsuperior to myself. My back was bent by the burden of his favours; with\nthe sword of kindness and bounty he killed me.\u201d\n\nWhen he had related all that he had seen of H\u0101tim\u2019s generosity, the\nking uttered praises upon the family of the Arab chief and rewarded the\nmessenger with gold.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATIVE OF MISDIRECTED KINDNESS\n\nA certain man, in the ceiling of whose house some bees had built their\nhives, asked his wife for a butchers\u2019 knife so that he might destroy\nthem. \u201cDo not so,\u201d the woman said, \u201cfor the poor creatures will be\ngreatly distressed when turned out of their homes.\u201d\n\nAccordingly, the foolish man left the bees in peace.\n\nOne day the woman was stung by one of the insects and stood wailing on\nthe doorstep. Hearing her cries, the husband left his shop and hurried\ntowards the house. Angered, he said: \u201cO wife! show not such a bitter face\nto the world; remember thou didst say to me, \u2018Kill not the poor bees.\u2019\u201d\n\nHow can one do good to the evil? Forbearance with the wicked but\nincreases their iniquity.\n\nWhat is a dog that a dish of viands should be set before him? Command\nthat they should give him bones. A kicking animal is best well-burdened.\n\nIf the night-watchman display humanity, no one sleeps at night for fear\nof thieves.\n\nIn the battle-field, the spear-shaft is worth more than a hundred\nthousand sugar-canes.\n\nWhen thou rearest a cat, she destroys thy pigeons; when thou makest fat a\nwolf, he rends one who is dear to thee.\n\nRaise not a building that has not a strong foundation; if thou dost,\nbeware.\n\n\nDISCOURSE CONCERNING KINDNESS TO ORPHANS\n\nProtect him whose father is dead; remove the dust from his raiment, and\ninjure him not. Thou knowest not how hard is his condition; no foliage\nis there on a rootless tree. Give not a kiss to a child of thine own in\nthe sight of a helpless orphan. If the latter weep, who will assuage his\ngrief? If he be angered, who will bear his burden? See that he weeps not,\nfor the throne of God trembles at the orphan\u2019s lament. With pity, wipe\nthe tears from his eyes and the dust from his face. If the protecting\nshadow of his father\u2019s care be gone, cherish him beneath the shadow of\nthy care.\n\nUpon my head was a kingly crown when it reposed upon the bosom of my\nfather. Then, if a fly settled upon my body, many were distressed on my\nbehalf. Now, should I be taken in captivity, not one among my friends\nwould come to aid me. Well do I know the orphan\u2019s sorrow, for my father\ndeparted in my childhood.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nCONCERNING LOVE\n\n\nHappy are the days of them that are infatuated by love for Him, whether\nthey be sorrowed by separation from Him or made joyous by His presence.\n\nThey are mendicants who fly from worldly sovereignty; in the hope of\nmeeting Him they are patient in their mendicity. Oft have they drunk of\nthe wine of anguish; be it bitter, they remain silent. In the remembrance\nof Him patience is not bitter, for wormwood is sweet from the hand of a\nfriend.\n\nThey that are captive in the coils of His love, seek not to escape; they\nsuffer reproach, but are monarchs in the seclusion of their meditation,\nand their way is not known. They are like the temple of Jerusalem,\nsplendid of which is the interior, but whose outer wall is left in ruin.\n\nLike moths, they burn themselves in the fire of love. Their beloved is in\ntheir breasts, yet do they seek Him; though near a fountain, their lips\nare parched.[18]\n\n\nDISCOURSE CONCERNING CONSTANCY\n\nThy love renders thee impatient and disturbed. With such sincerity hast\nthou placed thy head at her feet that thou art oblivious to the world.\n\nWhen in the eyes of thy beloved riches count not, gold and dust are as\none to thee.\n\nThou sayest that she dwelleth in thine eyes\u2014if they be closed, she is in\nthy mind.\n\nIf she demand thy life, thou dost place it in her hand; if she place a\nsword upon thy head, thou holdest it forward.\n\nWhen earthly love produces such confusion and such obedience demands,\ndost thou wonder if travellers of the road of God remain engulfed in the\nOcean of Reality?\n\nIn the remembrance of their Friend they have turned their backs upon the\nworld; they are so fascinated by the Cup-bearer that they have spilled\nthe wine.\n\nNo medicine can cure them, for no one has knowledge of their pains.\n\nWith their cries of longing do they root up a mountain; with their sighs\nthey dismember a kingdom.\n\nSuch is their weeping at dawn that the tears wash the collyrium of sleep\nfrom their eyes. Night and day are they immersed in the sea of love; so\ndistracted are they that they know not night from day.\n\nSo enamoured are they of the beauty of the Painter that they care not for\nthe beauty of His designs.\n\nHe drinks of the pure wine of Unity who is forgetful of both this world\nand the next.\n\n\nSTORY OF A DANCER\n\nI have heard that, at the singing of a musician, one of fairy-face began\nto dance. Surrounded by distracted hearts, the flame of a candle caught\nher skirt. She was distressed and angered.\n\nOne of her lovers said, \u201cWhy agitate thyself? The fire has burned thy\nskirts\u2014it[19] has entirely consumed the harvest of my life.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING THE REALITY OF LOVE\n\nOne who loved God set his face towards the desert. His father, being\ngrieved at his absence, neither ate nor slept.\n\nSome one admonished the son, who said: \u201cSince my Friend has claimed me as\nHis own, no other friendship do I own. When He revealed to me His beauty,\nall else that I saw appeared unreal.\u201d\n\nThey that love Him care for no one else; their senses are confused and\ntheir ears are deaf to the words of them that reproach.\n\nThey wander through the desert of Divine Knowledge without a caravan.\n\nThey have no hope of approbation from their fellow-men, for they are the\nchosen of the elect of God.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATIVE OF PATIENCE\n\nAn old man begged at the door of a mosque. Some one said to him: \u201cThis is\nnot the place to beg; stand not here with impudence.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat house is this,\u201d the man inquired, \u201cfrom which no pity comes upon\nthe condition of the poor?\u201d\n\n\u201cSilence!\u201d was the reply. \u201cWhat foolish words are these? This is the\nhouse of our Master!\u201d\n\nThe beggar raised a cry: \u201cAlas,\u201d he said, \u201cthat I should be disappointed\nat this door. I have not gone hopeless from any street; why should I go\nthus from the door of God? Here will I stretch forth my hand of want, for\nI know that I shall not depart empty-handed.\u201d\n\nFor a year he remained devoutly employed in the mosque. One night,\nthrough weakness, his heart began to palpitate, and at daybreak his last\nbreath flickered like a morning lamp. Thus did he exclaim with joy: \u201cAnd\nwhoever knocked at the door of the Bounteous One, it opened.\u201d\n\nHe who seeks God should be patient and enduring; I have not heard of\nan alchemist being sad. Much gold he reduces to ashes so that he may\none day turn copper into gold. Gold is good with which to buy\u2014and what\ncouldst thou wish to buy better than the face of thy Friend?[20]\n\n\nSTORY OF ONE WHO WAS ASSIDUOUS IN PRAYER\n\nAn old man spent the night in worship and the morning in prayer. A\nguardian angel whispered to him: \u201cGo, take thy way, for thy prayers are\nnot acceptable at this door.\u201d\n\nThe next night again he passed the night in devotion; and a disciple,\nbeing informed of his circumstances, said: \u201cWhen thou seest that the door\nis shut, why dost thou thus exert thyself?\u201d\n\nWeeping, he replied: \u201cO my son! Dost thou suppose that although He has\ntorn my reins I shall keep my hands from off his saddle-straps? When\na supplicant is repelled at one door, what is his fear if he know of\nanother?\u201d\n\nWhile thus he spoke, with his head upon the ground, the angel uttered\nthis message in his ear: \u201cAlthough there is no merit in him, his prayers\nare accepted, for except Me he has no refuge.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY OF SULTAN MAHM\u016aD AND HIS LOVE FOR AY\u0100Z\n\nSome one found fault with the king of Ghazni, saying: \u201cAy\u0101z, his\nfavourite slave, possesses no beauty. It is strange that a nightingale\nshould love a rose that has neither colour nor perfume.\u201d\n\nThis was told to Mahm\u016bd, who said: \u201cMy love, O sir, is for his virtues,\nnot for his form and stature.\u201d\n\nI have heard that in a narrow pass a camel fell and a chest of pearls was\nbroken. The king gave the signal for plunder, and urged on his horse with\nspeed. The horsemen did likewise, and, leaving the king behind, gathered\nup the pearls. Not one of them remained near the king but Ay\u0101z.\n\n\u201cO thou of curly locks!\u201d said Mahm\u016bd, \u201cwhat hast thou gained of the\nplunder?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing,\u201d he replied. \u201cI walked in haste behind thee: I do not occupy\nmyself with riches away from thy service.\u201d\n\nIf an honourable place in the court be thine, be not neglectful of the\nking on account of gain elsewhere.\n\n\nSTORY OF A VILLAGE CHIEF\n\nA village chief passed with his son through the centre of the imperial\narmy. In the presence of such pomp and splendour the man displayed\nhumility and fled, through fear, into a corner.\n\n\u201cAfter all,\u201d observed his son, \u201cthou art a village chief, and in\nchieftaincy greater than the nobles. Why dost thou tremble like a willow\ntree?\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue,\u201d replied his father. \u201cI am a chief and a ruler, but my honour lies\nas far as my village.\u201d\n\nThus are the saints overwhelmed with fear when they stand in the court of\ntheir King.\n\n\nSTORY OF A FIRE-FLY\n\nPerhaps thou mayest have seen the fire-fly shine like a lamp in the\ngarden at night.\n\n\u201cO night-illuminating moth!\u201d some one said, \u201cwhy comest thou not out in\nthe day-time?\u201d\n\nThe fly gave an answer full of wisdom: \u201cBecause I am not visible before\nthe sun.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY OF A MOTH AND A CANDLE\n\nSome one said to a moth: \u201cGo, thou contemptible creature, and make\nfriendship with one worthy of thyself; go where thou seest the path of\nhope. How different is thy love from that of the candle! Thou art not a\nsalamander\u2014hover not around the fire, for bravery is necessary before\ncombat. It is not compatible with reason that thou shouldst acknowledge\nas a friend one whom thou knowest to be thine enemy.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat does it matter if I burn?\u201d the moth replied. \u201cI have love in my\nheart, and this flame is as a flower to me. Not of my own accord do I\nthrow myself into the fire; the chain of her love is upon my neck. Who is\nit that finds fault with my friendship for my friend? I am content to\nbe slain at her feet. I burn because she is dear to me, and because my\ndestruction may affect her. Say not to the helpless man from whose hands\nthe reins have fallen, \u2018Drive slowly.\u2019\u201d\n\n\nANOTHER STORY ON THE SAME SUBJECT\n\nOne night, as I lay awake, I heard a moth say to a candle: \u201cI am thy\nlover; if I burn, it is proper. Why dost thou weep?\u201d\n\nThe candle replied: \u201cO my poor friend! Love is not thy business. Thou\nfliest from before a flame; I stand erect until I am entirely consumed.\nIf the fire of love has burned thy wings, regard me, who from head to\nfoot must be destroyed.\u201d\n\nBefore the night had passed, some one put the candle out, exclaiming:\n\u201cSuch is the end of love!\u201d\n\nGrieve not over the grave of one who lost his life for his friend; be\nglad of heart, for he was the chosen of Him.\n\nIf thou art a lover, wash not thy head of the sickness of love; like\nSadi, wash thy hands of selfishness.\n\nA devoted lover holds not back his hand from the object of his affections\nthough arrows and stones may rain upon his head.\n\nBe cautious; if thou goest down to the sea, give thyself up to the storm.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nCONCERNING HUMILITY\n\n\nThou, O creature of God, wast created of the dust; therefore, be humble\nas the dust. Be not covetous, nor oppressive, nor headstrong. Thou art\nfrom the dust; be not like fire. When the terrible fire raised his head\nin pride, the dust prostrated itself in humility.\n\nAnd since the fire was arrogant and the dust was meek, from the former\nwere the demons formed, and from the latter mankind.\n\n\nSTORY OF A RAINDROP\n\nA raindrop fell from a spring cloud, and, seeing the wide expanse of the\nsea, was shamed. \u201cWhere the sea is,\u201d it reflected, \u201cwhere am I? Compared\nwith that, forsooth, I am extinct.\u201d\n\nWhile thus regarding itself with an eye of contempt, an oyster took it\nto its bosom, and Fate so shaped its course that eventually the raindrop\nbecame a famous royal pearl.\n\nIt was exalted, for it was humble. Knocking at the door of extinction, it\nbecame existent.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATIVE OF PIOUS MEN REGARDING THEMSELVES WITH CONTEMPT\n\nA sagacious youth of noble family landed at a seaport of Turkey, and, as\nhe displayed piety and wisdom, his baggage was deposited in a mosque.\n\nOne day the priest said to him: \u201cSweep away the dust and rubbish from the\nmosque.\u201d\n\nImmediately, the young man went away and no one saw him there again.\nThus, did the elder and his followers suppose he did not care to serve.\n\nThe next day, a servant of the mosque met him on the road and said: \u201cThou\ndidst act wrongly in thy perverse judgment. Knowest thou not, O conceited\nyouth, that men are dignified by service?\u201d\n\nSorrowfully, the youth began to weep. \u201cO soul-cherishing and\nheart-illuminating friend!\u201d he answered; \u201cI saw no dirt or rubbish in\nthat holy place but mine own corrupt self. Therefore, I retraced my\nsteps, for a mosque is better cleansed from such.\u201d\n\nHumility is the only ritual for a devotee. If thou desire greatness, be\nhumble; no other ladder is there by which to climb.\n\n\nSTORY OF SULTAN B\u0100YAZ\u012aD BUST\u0100MI[21]\n\nWhen B\u0101yaz\u012bd was coming from his bath one morning during the Id festival,\nsome one unwittingly emptied a tray of ashes from a window upon his\nhead. With his face and turban all bespattered, he rubbed his hands in\ngratitude and said: \u201cI am in truth worthy of the fires of hell; why\nshould I be angered by a few ashes?\u201d\n\nThe great do not regard themselves; look not for godliness in a\nself-conceited man. Eminence does not consist in outward show and\nvaunting words, nor dignity in hauteur and pretension.\n\nOn the Day of Judgment thou wilt see in Paradise him who sought truth and\nrejected vain pretension.\n\nHe who is headstrong and obdurate falleth headlong; if thou desire\ngreatness, abandon pride.\n\n\nDISCOURSE ON CONCEIT\n\nExpect not him who is possessed of worldly vanities to follow the path of\nreligion, nor look for godliness in him who wallows in conceit.\n\nIf thou desire dignity, do not, like the mean, regard thy fellows with\ncontemptuous eyes.\n\nSeek no position more honourable than that of being known to the world as\na man of laudable character.\n\nThou deemest him not great who, being of equal rank, is haughty towards\nthee; when thou makest a similar display before others, dost thou not\nappear before them as the arrogant appear before thee?\n\nIf thou art eminent, laugh not, if thou art wise, at them that are lowly.\nMany have fallen from high whose places have been taken by the fallen.\n\nThough thou be free from defect, revile not me who am full of blemishes.\n\nOne holds the chain of the K\u00e1ba temple in his hands; another lies drunken\nin the tavern. If God call the latter, who can drive him away? If He\nexpel the former, who can bring him back? The one cannot implore the\ndivine help by reason of his good deeds, nor is the door of repentance\nclosed upon the other.\n\n\nSTORY OF THE DARWESH AND THE PROUD C\u0100DI\n\nA poorly-clad doctor of law and divinity sat one day in the front row\nof seats in a C\u0101di\u2019s court. The C\u0101di gave him a sharp look, whereupon\nthe usher took the man by the arm and said: \u201cGet up; dost thou not know\nthat the best place is not for such as thee? Either take a lower seat,\nor remain standing, or leave the court altogether. Be not so bold as to\noccupy the seat of the great. If thou art humble, pose not as a lion. Not\nevery one is worthy of the chief seat; honour is proportionate to rank,\nand rank to merit.\u201d\n\nHe who sits with honour in a place lower than that of which he is worthy\nfalls not with ignominy from eminence.\n\nFuming with anger, the doctor moved to a lower seat. Two advocates in the\ncourt then entered into a spirited discussion, and flew at each other\nwith their tongues like fighting-cocks with beak and claw. They were\ninvolved in a complicated knot which neither could unravel. From the last\nrow of seats the tattered doctor roared out with the voice of a lion in\nthe forest.\n\n\u201cIt is not the veins of the neck that should stand out in argument,\u201d he\nsaid, \u201cbut the proofs, which should be full of meaning. I, too, have the\nfaculty of argument.\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak on,\u201d they answered.\n\nWith the quill of eloquence that he possessed, the doctor engraved his\nwords upon the minds of his listeners like inscriptions on a signet-ring;\nand, drawing his pen through the letters of pretension, he invoked\napplause from every corner. So hard did he drive the steed of speech that\nthe C\u0101di lagged behind like an ass in the mire. Removing his cloak and\nturban, the latter sent them to the doctor as a token of his respect.\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d he said, \u201cI did not discern thy merit, nor welcome thee on thy\narrival. I regret to see thee in this condition with such a stock of\nknowledge.\u201d\n\nThe usher then approached the stranger courteously in order that he might\nplace the C\u0101di\u2019s turban upon his head. But the doctor repelled him with\nhis hands and tongue, saying:\n\n\u201cPlace not upon my head the fetters of pride, for to-morrow this\nfifty-yarded turban would turn my head from those in jaded garb. Those\nwho called me \u2018lord\u2019 and \u2018chief\u2019 would then appear insignificant in mine\neyes. Is pure water different whether it be contained in a goblet of gold\nor an earthen ewer? A man\u2019s head requires brain and intellect, not an\nimposing turban like thine. A big head does not make one worthy; it is\nlike the gourd, void of kernel. Be not proud because of thy turban and\nbeard, for the one is cotton and the other grass. One should aim at the\ndegree of eminence that is conformable with one\u2019s merit. With all this\nintellect, I will not call thee man, though a hundred slaves walk behind\nthee. How well spoke the shell when a greedy fool picked it out of the\nmire: \u2018None will buy me for the smallest price: be not so insane as to\nwrap me up in silk.\u2019 A man is not better than his fellows by reason of\nhis wealth, for an ass, though covered with a satin cloth, is still an\nass.\u201d\n\nIn this way the clever doctor washed the rancour from his heart with the\nwater of words. Thus do those who are aggrieved speak harshly. Be not\nidle when thine enemy has fallen. Dash out his brains when thou art\nable, for delay will efface the grudge from thy mind.\n\nSo overcome was the C\u0101di by his vehemence that he exclaimed, \u201cVerily,\nthis day is a hard one.\u201d He bit his fingers in amazement, and his eyes\nstared at the doctor like the two stars near the pole of the lesser bear.\nAs for the latter, he went abruptly out and was never seen there again.\nThey in the court clamoured to know whence such an impertinent fellow\nhad come. An official went in search of him, and ran in all directions,\nasking whether a man of that description had been seen. Some one said:\n\u201cWe know no one in this city so eloquent as Sadi.\u201d\n\nA hundred thousand praises to him who said so; see how sweetly he uttered\nthe bitter truth!\n\n\nSTORY OF THE HONEY-SELLER\n\nA man of smiling countenance sold honey, captivating the hearts of all by\nhis pleasant manner. His customers were as numerous as flies around the\nsugar-cane\u2014if he had sold poison people would have bought it for honey.\n\nA forbidding-looking man regarded him with envy, being jealous of the way\nhis business prospered. One day he paraded the town with a tray of honey\non his head and a scowl on his face. He wandered about crying his wares,\nbut no one evinced desire to buy. At nightfall, having earned no money,\nhe went and sat dejectedly in a corner, with a face as bitter as that of\na sinner fearful of retribution.\n\nThe wife of one of his neighbours jokingly remarked: \u201cHoney is bitter to\none of sour temper.\u201d\n\nIt is wrong to eat bread at the table of one whose face is as wrinkled\nwith frowns as the cloth on which it is served.\n\nO sir! add not to thine own burdens, for an evil temper brings disaster\nin its train.\n\nIf thou hast not a sweet tongue like Sadi, thou hast neither gold nor\nsilver.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING THE FORBEARANCE OF GOOD MEN\n\nI have heard that a debased drunkard caught a pious man by the collar.\nThe latter received his blows in silence, and in forbearance lifted not\nhis head.\n\nA passer-by remarked: \u201cArt thou not a man? It is a pity to be patient\nwith this ignorant fellow.\u201d\n\nThe pious man replied: \u201cSpeak not thus to me. A foolish drunkard collars\none by the neck in the thought that he is fighting with a lion; there is\nno fear that a learned man will contend with an inebriated fool.\u201d\n\nThe virtuous follow this rule in life\u2014when they suffer oppression they\ndisplay kindness.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING THE NOBLE-MINDEDNESS OF MEN\n\nA dog bit the leg of a hermit with such violence that venom dropped from\nits teeth, and the poor man could not sleep all night through pain.\n\nHis little daughter chided him, saying: \u201cHast thou not teeth as well?\u201d\n\nThe unfortunate parent wept, and then smilingly replied: \u201cDear child!\nAlthough I was stronger than the dog, I restrained my anger. Should I\nreceive a sword-blow on the head, I could not apply my teeth to the legs\nof a dog.\u201d\n\nOne can revenge oneself upon the mean, but a man cannot act like a dog.\n\n\nSTORY OF A KIND MASTER AND HIS DISOBEDIENT SLAVE\n\nAn eminent man, famous for his many virtues, possessed a slave of evil\ndisposition, who in ugliness of feature surpassed every one in the city.\nHe closely attended his master at meal-times, but he would not have given\na drop of water to a dying man. Neither reproof nor the rod influenced\nhim; the house was in a constant state of disorder through him.\nSometimes, in his bad temper, would he litter the paths with thorns and\nrubbish; at other times, throw the chickens down the well. His unhappy\ntemperament was written on his face, and never did he perform a task\nsuccessfully.\n\nSome one asked his master: \u201cWhat is there that thou likest in this\nslave\u2014his agreeable manners, or his skill, or beauty? Surely, it is not\nworth while to keep such an unruly knave and burden thyself with such an\naffliction. I will procure for thee a slave of handsome appearance and\ngood character. Take this one to the slave-market and sell him. If a pice\nis offered for him, do not refuse it, for he would be dear at that.\u201d\n\nThe good-natured man smiled and said: \u201cO friend! Although the character\nof my slave is certainly bad, my character is improved by him, for when\nI have learned to tolerate his manner I shall be able to put up with\nanything at the hands of others. It were not humane to sell him and thus\nmake known his faults. And it is better to endure his affliction myself\nthan to pass him on to others.\u201d\n\nAccept for thyself what thou wouldst accept for others. If distressed\nthyself, involve not thy fellows.\n\nForbearance is at first like poison, but when engrained in the nature it\nbecomes like honey.\n\n\nSTORY OF MAR\u016aF KARCHI[22] AND THE SICK TRAVELLER\n\nNo one follows the path of Mar\u016bf Karchi who does not first banish the\nidea of fame from his head.\n\nA traveller once came to Mar\u016bf\u2019s house at the point of death\u2014his life was\njoined to his body by a single hair. He passed the night in wailing and\nlamentation, sleeping not himself nor permitting any one else to sleep by\nreason of his groans. His mind was distressed and his temper was vile;\nthough he died not himself, he killed many by his fretting. Such was his\nrestlessness that every one flew from him. Mar\u016bf Karchi alone remained.\nHe, like a brave man, girt his loins and sat up many nights in attendance\nat the sick man\u2019s bedside. But one night Mar\u016bf was attacked by sleep\u2014how\nlong can a sleepless man keep up?\n\nAs soon as the invalid saw him asleep he began to rave: \u201cCursed be thy\nabominable race!\u201d he cried: \u201cwhat knows this glutton, intoxicated with\nsleep, of the helpless man who has not closed his eyes?\u201d\n\nMar\u016bf took no notice of these words, but one of the women of the harem,\noverhearing them, remarked: \u201cDidst thou not hear what that wailing beggar\nsaid? Turn him out, and tell him to take his abuse with him and die\nelsewhere. Kindness and compassion have their occasions, but to do good\nto the evil is evil; only a fool plants trees in barren soil. A grateful\ndog is better than an ungrateful man.\u201d\n\nMar\u016bf laughed: \u201cDear woman,\u201d he replied, \u201cbe not offended at his\nungracious words. If he rave at me through sickness, I am not angered.\nWhen thou art strong and well thyself, bear gratefully the burdens of the\nweak. If thou cherish the tree of kindness, thou wilt assuredly eat of\nthe fruits of a good name.\u201d\n\nThey attain to dignity who rid themselves of arrogance.\n\nHe who worships grandeur is the slave of pride; he knows not that\ngreatness consists in meekness.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING THE FOLLY OF THE IGNOBLE\n\nAn impudent fellow begged of a pious man, but the latter had no money in\nhis house. Otherwise, would he have showered gold upon him like dust. The\ninfamous rascal, therefore, went out and began to abuse him in the street.\n\nThe eye of the fault-finder sees no merits. What regard has he who has\nacted dishonourably for the honour of another?\n\nBeing informed of his words, the pious man smiled and said: \u201cIt is well;\nthis man has enumerated only a few of my bad qualities\u2014only one out of a\nhundred that are known to me. The evil that he has supposed in me I know\nfor certain that I possess. Only one year has he been acquainted with\nme; how can he know the faults of seventy years? None but the Omniscient\nknows my faults better than myself. Never have I known one who has\nattributed to me so few defects. If he bear witness against me in the Day\nof Judgment, I shall have no fear. If he who thinks ill of me seek to\nreveal my faults, tell him to come and take the record from me.\u201d\n\nBe humble when the veil is torn from off thy character. If a pitcher were\nmade of the dust of men, the calumnious would shatter it with stones.\n\n\nSTORY OF ONE WHO HAD A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE\n\nA certain man knew something of astronomy and his head, in consequence,\nwas filled with pride. Journeying far, he visited K\u016bshy\u0101r,[23] the sage,\nwho turned his eyes from him and would teach him nothing. When the\ndisappointed traveller was on the point of leaving, K\u016bshy\u0101r addressed him\nwith these words:\n\n\u201cThou imaginest that thou art full of knowledge. How can a vessel that is\nfull receive of more? Rid thyself of thy pretensions, so that thou mayest\nbe filled. Being full of vanity, thou goest empty.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING THE HUMILITY OF THE PIOUS\n\nSome one heard the barking of a dog in the ruined hut of a pious man.\nReflecting upon the strangeness of the fact, he went and searched, but\nfound no traces of a dog. In truth, the devotee alone was in the house.\n\nNot wishing his curiosity to be revealed, the man was departing, when the\nowner of the house cried out: \u201cCome in; why standest thou upon the door?\nKnowest thou not, O friend, that I it was who barked? When I discerned\nthat humility was acceptable to God, I banished pride and vanity from my\nheart, and clamoured with barks at the door of God, for I saw none more\nlowly than a dog.\u201d\n\nIf thou desire to attain to dignity, let humility be thy path.\n\nBehold, when the dew lies low upon the earth, the sun doth raise it to\nthe skies.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING THE VALUE OF SOFT WORDS\n\nThe slave of a king escaped, and, though a search was made, was not\ndiscovered. Later, when the fugitive returned, the king, in anger,\nordered that he should be put to death.\n\nWhen the executioner brought out his scimitar, like the tongue of a\nthirsty man, the despondent slave cried out:\n\n\u201cO God! I forgive the king the shedding of my blood, for I have ever\nenjoyed his bounty and shared in his prosperity. Let him not suffer for\nthis deed on the Day of Judgment, to the delight of his enemies.\u201d\n\nWhen the king heard these words his anger was appeased, and he appointed\nthe slave to be an officer of the standard.\n\nThe moral of this story is that soft speech acts like water on the fires\nof wrath. Do not the soldiers on the battle-field wear armour consisting\nof a hundred folds of silk?\n\nO friend! be humble when thou dealest with a fierce foe, for gentleness\nwill blunt the sharpest sword.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING THE WISDOM OF FEIGNING DEAFNESS\n\nMany writers affirm the falsity of the idea that H\u0101tim was deaf.\n\nOne morning his attention was attracted by the buzzing of a fly, which\nhad become ensnared in a spider\u2019s web. \u201cO thou,\u201d he observed, \u201cwho art\nfettered by thine own avarice, be patient. Wherever there be a tempting\nbait, huntsman and snare are close at hand.\u201d\n\nOne of his disciples remarked: \u201cStrange it is that thou couldst hear the\nbuzzing of a fly that hardly reached our ears. No longer can they call\nthee deaf.\u201d\n\nThe Sheikh replied: \u201cDeafness is better than the hearing of idle words.\nThose that sit with me in private are prone to conceal my faults and\nparade my virtues; thus, do they make me vain. I feign deafness that I\nmay be spared their flattery. When my assumed affliction has become known\nto them they will speak freely of that which is good and bad in me; then,\nbeing grieved at the recital of my faults, I shall abstain from evil.\u201d\n\nGo not down a well by a rope of praise. Be deaf, like H\u0101tim, and listen\nto the words of them that slander thee.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING FORBEARANCE FOR THE SAKE OF FRIENDS\n\nA certain man, whose heart was as pure as Sadi\u2019s, fell in love. Although\ntaunted by his enemies in consequence, he showed no anger.\n\nSome one asked him: \u201cHast thou no sense of shame? Art thou not sensible\nto these indignities? It is abject to expose oneself to ridicule, and\nweak to endure patiently the scoffs of enemies. To overlook the errors of\nthe ignorant is wrong, lest it be said that thou hast neither strength\nnor courage.\u201d\n\nHow elegantly did the distracted lover make reply! His words are worthy\nto be writ in letters of gold:\n\n\u201cAlone in my heart there dwelleth affection for my loved one; thus, it\ncontains no room for malice.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY OF LUQMAN,[24] THE SAGE\n\nI have heard that Luqman was of dark complexion and careless of his\nappearance. Some one mistook for him a slave, and employed him in digging\ntrenches at Baghdad. Thus he continued for a year, no one suspecting who\nhe was. When the truth was known the master was afeared, and fell at\nLuqman\u2019s feet, offering excuses.\n\nThe sage smiled and said: \u201cOf what use are these apologies? For a year\nmy heart has bled through thine oppression. How can I forget that in one\nhour? But I forgive thee, good man, for thy gain has caused to me no\nloss. Thou hast built thy house; my wisdom and knowledge have increased.\nI, too, possess a slave, and frequently set him to arduous labour.\nNevermore, when I remember the hardships of my toil, will I afflict him.\u201d\n\nHe who has not suffered at the hands of the strong grieves not at the\nfrailness of the weak.\n\nIf thou be sorrowed by those above thee, be not harsh with thine\ninferiors.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nCONCERNING RESIGNATION\n\n\nHappiness comes from the favour of God, not from the might of the\npowerful.\n\nIf the heavens bestow not fortune, by no valour can it be obtained.\n\nThe ant suffers not by reason of its weakness; the tiger eats not by\nvirtue of its strength.\n\nSince the hand reaches not to the skies, accept as inevitable the fortune\nthat it brings.\n\nIf thy life is destined to be long, no snake nor sword will harm thee;\nwhen the fated day of death arrives, the antidote will kill thee no less\nthan the poison.\n\n\nSTORY OF A SOLDIER OF ISFAHAN\n\nIn Isfahan I had a friend who was warlike, spirited, and shrewd. His\nhands and dagger were for ever stained with blood. The hearts of his\nenemies were consumed by fear of him; even the tigers stood in awe of\nhim. In battle he was like a sparrow among locusts; in combat, sparrows\nand men were alike to him. Had he made an attack upon Faridun, he would\nnot have given the latter time to draw his sword. Neither in bravery nor\nmagnanimity had he an equal.\n\nThis warrior formed a liking for my company; but as I was not destined to\nremain in Isfahan, Fate transferred me from Iraq to Syria, in which holy\nland my staying was agreeable. After some time the desire for my home\nattracted me, so I returned to Iraq.\n\nOne night, the memory of the sepoy passed through my mind; the salt of\nhis friendship opened the wounds of my gratitude, for I had eaten salt\nfrom his hand. To meet him, I went to Isfahan, and inquired as to where\nhe lived.\n\nI chanced upon him. He who had been a youth had become old; his form,\nonce erect as an arrow, had become as a bow. Like a hoary mountain, his\nhead was covered with snowy hair; Time had conquered him and twisted the\nwrist of his bravery. The pride of his strength had gone; the head of\nweakness was upon his knees.\n\n\u201cO tiger-seizer!\u201d I exclaimed, \u201cwhat has made thee decrepit like an old\nfox?\u201d\n\nHe laughed and said: \u201cSince the day of the battle of Tartary, I have\nexpelled the thoughts of fighting from my head. Then did I see the earth\narrayed with spears like a forest of reeds. I raised like smoke the dust\nof conflict; but when Fortune does not favour, of what avail is fury? I\nam one who, in combat, could take with a spear a ring from the palm of\nthe hand; but, as my star did not befriend me, they encircled me as with\na ring. I seized the opportunity of flight, for only a fool strives with\nFate. How could my helmet and cuirass aid me when my bright star favoured\nme not? When the key of victory is not in the hand, no one can break open\nthe door of conquest with his arms.\n\n\u201cThe enemy were a pack of leopards, and as strong as elephants. The\nheads of the heroes were encased in iron, as were also the hoofs of the\nhorses. We urged on our Arab steeds like a cloud, and when the two armies\nencountered each other thou wouldst have said they had struck the sky\ndown to the earth. From the raining of arrows, that descended like hail,\nthe storm of death arose in every corner. Not one of our troops came out\nof the battle but his cuirass was soaked with blood. Not that our swords\nwere blunt\u2014it was the vengeance of stars of ill fortune. Overpowered, we\nsurrendered, like a fish which, though protected by scales, is caught by\nthe hook in the bait. Since Fortune averted her face, useless was our\nshield against the arrows of Fate.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY OF THE DOCTOR AND THE VILLAGER\n\nOne night a villager could not sleep owing to a pain in his side. A\ndoctor said: \u201cThis pain is caused by his having eaten the leaves of the\nvine. I shall be astonished if he lasts through the night, for the arrows\nof a Tartar in his breast were better for him than the eating of such\nindigestible food.\u201d\n\nThat night the doctor died; forty years have since passed, and the\nvillager yet lives.\n\n\nSTORY OF THE VILLAGER AND HIS ASS\n\nThe ass of a villager died, so he set the head upon a vine in his garden\nin order that it might ward off the Evil Eye.\n\nA sage old man passed by and laughingly remarked: \u201cDost think, O friend,\nthis will effect thy purpose? In life, the ass could not protect itself\nfrom blows; so, in weakness, did it die.\u201d\n\nWhat knows the physician of the condition of the sick, when, helpless, he\nhimself will die through illness?\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING LUCK\n\nA poor man dropped a dinar in the road. He searched much, but at last,\ndespairing, abandoned the attempt.\n\nSome one came along and found the coin by chance.\n\nGood and ill fortune are predestined. Our daily portion depends not upon\nour strength and efforts, for those who are strongest and strive the most\nstand often in the direst need.\n\n\nSTORY OF ONE WHO BLAMED HIS DESTINY\n\nThere was once a rich and prosperous man named Bakhty\u0101r. The wife of one\nof his neighbours, who was in the other extreme of poverty, upbraided\nher husband one night when he went to her empty-handed, saying: \u201cNo one\nis so poor and unfortunate as thee. Take a lesson from thy neighbours,\nwho are well-to-do. Why art thou not fortunate, like them?\u201d\n\nThe man replied: \u201cI am incapable of aught; quarrel not with Fate. I have\nnot been endowed with the power to make myself a Bakhty\u0101r.\u201d[25]\n\n\nSTORY OF A DARWESH AND HIS WIFE\n\nA darwesh remarked to his wife, who was of ill-favoured countenance:\n\u201cSince Fate has made thee ugly, do not encrust thy face with cosmetic.\u201d\n\nWho can attain good fortune by force? Who, with collyrium, can make the\nblind to see?\n\nNot one among the philosophers of Greece or Rome could produce honey from\nthe thorn.\n\nWild beasts cannot become men; education is wasted upon them.\n\nA mirror can be freed from stain, but it cannot be made from a stone.\n\nRoses do not blossom on the branches of the willow; hot baths never yet\nmade an Ethiop white.\n\nSince one cannot escape the arrows of Fate, resignation is the only\nshield.\n\n\nSTORY OF A VULTURE AND A KITE\n\nA vulture said to a kite: \u201cNo one can see so far as I.\u201d\n\n\u201cPossibly,\u201d replied the kite; \u201cbut what canst thou see across the desert?\u201d\n\nGazing down, the vulture exclaimed: \u201cYonder do I see a grain of wheat.\u201d\n\nThereupon, they flew to the ground. When the vulture settled upon the\nwheat he became caught in a trap. He had not known that, through his\neating the grain, Fate would ensnare him by the neck.\n\nNot every oyster contains a pearl; not every archer hits the target.\n\n\u201cOf what use,\u201d the kite inquired, \u201cwas it to see the grain when thou\ncouldst not discern the trap of thine enemy?\u201d\n\n\u201cCaution,\u201d said the captive vulture, \u201cavaileth not with Destiny.\u201d\n\nWhen the decrees of past eternity are brought to action, the keenest eyes\nare rendered blind by Fate.\n\nIn the ocean, where no shore-line appears, the swimmer strives in vain.\n\n\nSTORY OF A CAMEL\n\nA young camel said to its mother: \u201cAfter thou hast made a journey, rest\nawhile.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf the bridle were in my hands,\u201d was the reply, \u201cno one would ever see\nme in the string of camels with a load upon my back.\u201d\n\nFate is the helmsman of the ship of life, no matter though the owner rend\nhis clothes.\n\nO Sadi! look not for aid from any man. God is the giver, and He alone. If\nthou worship Him, the door of His mercy sufficeth thee; if He drive thee\naway, no one will ease thee. If He make thee to wear a crown, raise thy\nhead; if not, bow thy head in despair.\n\n\nDISCOURSE CONCERNING HYPOCRISY\n\nWho knows that thou art not pledged to God even though thou standest in\nprayer without ablution?\n\nThat prayer is the key to hell which thou performest only before the eyes\nof men.\n\nIf the high-road of thy life lead to aught but God, thy prayer-mat will\nbe thrown into the fire.\n\nHe whose heart is good and makes no outward show of piety is better than\none of outward sanctity whose heart is false.\n\nA night-prowling robber is better than a sinner in the tunic of a saint.\n\nExpect not wages from Omar, O son, when thou workest in the house of Zaid.\n\nIf in private I am bad and mean, of what avail is it to pose before the\nworld with honour? How much will the bag of hypocrisy weigh in the Scales\nof Justice?\n\nThe outside of the hypocrite\u2019s coat is neater than the lining, for the\none is seen and the other is hidden.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nCONCERNING CONTENTMENT\n\n\nHe knows not God nor performs His worship who is not contented with his\nlot.\n\nContentment maketh a man rich\u2014tell this to the avaricious.\n\nO irresolute one! be tranquil, for grass grows not upon revolving stones.\n\nPamper not thy body if thou be a man of sense, for in so doing dost thou\nseek thine own destruction.\n\nThe wise acquire virtue, and they that pamper their bodies are devoid of\nmerit.\n\nEating and sleeping is the creed of animals; to adopt it is the manner of\nfools.\n\nHappy is that fortunate man who, in meditation, prepares for the last\njourney by means of the knowledge of God.\n\nTo him who knows not the darkness from the light the face of a demon is\nas that of a Houri.[26]\n\nHow can the falcon fly to the sky when the stone of avarice is tied to\nits wing?\n\nIf thou pay less attention to thy food than to worship thou mayest become\nan angel. First cultivate the qualities of a man, then reflect upon the\ncharacter of angels.\n\nEat in proportion to thy hunger; how can he give praises who scarce can\nbreathe by reason of his gluttony?\n\nHe whose stomach is full is void of wisdom. The prey is entrapped in the\nsnare because of its greed.\n\n\nSTORY OF THE KING OF KHWARAZM[27]\n\nA covetous man paid an early morning visit to the king of Khwarazm, and\ntwice prostrated himself to the ground before him.\n\n\u201cTell me, O father,\u201d his son inquired, \u201cdidst thou not say that Mecca was\nthy place of worship? Why didst thou to-day repeat thy prayers before the\nking?\u201d\n\nContentment exalteth the head; that which is full of avarice comes no\nhigher than the shoulder.\n\nHe who has wrapped up the volume of his avarice needs not to write to any\none, \u201cI am thy slave and servant.\u201d\n\nBy begging wilt thou be driven from every assembly; drive it from\nthyself, so that no one may drive thee away.\n\n\nCONCERNING THE EVILS OF OVER-EATING\n\nSome said to a pious man who was stricken with fever: \u201cAsk for some\nconserve of roses from such a one.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, friend,\u201d he replied, \u201cit were better to die in bitterness than to\nendure the affliction of his sour face.\u201d\n\nA wise man does not eat conserve of roses from the hand of one whose face\nhas been soured by pride.\n\nPursue not that which thy heart desires, for the pampering of the body\ndestroys the fires of life.\n\nThe gluttonous man bears the weight of his corpulence; if he obtain not\nfood, he bears the weight of grief. It is better that the stomach should\nbe empty than the mind.\n\n\nSTORY OF A GLUTTON\n\nIn company with some religious mendicants I entered a date-grove in\nBusra. One of the party was a glutton. He, having girt his loins, climbed\nup a tree, and, falling headlong, died.\n\nThe headsman of the village asked, \u201cWho killed this man?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo softly, friend,\u201d I answered; \u201che fell from a branch\u2014\u2019twas the weight\nof his stomach.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY OF A RECLUSE\n\nThe Amir of Tartary presented a silken robe to an elderly recluse, who,\nputting it on, kissed the hand of the messenger, and said: \u201cA thousand\npraises to the king! Excellent is this splendid robe, but I prefer my own\npatched habit.\u201d\n\nIf thou hast relinquished the world, sleep upon the bare ground\u2014kiss it\nnot before any one for the sake of a costly carpet.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING THE EVILS OF AVARICE\n\nTo a poor man who had naught to eat but bread and onions, a foolish man\nremarked: \u201cGo, wretched man, and bring some cooked meat from the public\nfeast. Ask boldly and be not afraid of any one, for he who is modest must\ngo without his share.\u201d\n\nActing on this advice, the beggar put on his cloak and started off. The\nservants of the feast tore off his clothes and broke his arm.\n\nWeeping, he cried: \u201cOh my soul! What remedy is there for one\u2019s own\nactions? One seized by avarice becomes the seeker of his own misfortunes.\nAfter this, the bread and onions are good enough for me.\u201d\n\nA barley loaf procured by the exertions of one\u2019s own arm is better than a\nloaf of flour from the table of the liberal.\n\n\nSTORY OF AN AMBITIOUS CAT\n\nA cat who lived in the house of an old woman of humble circumstances\nwandered to the palace of a noble, whose slaves repulsed the animal with\narrows.\n\nBleeding from many wounds, the cat ran off in terror, thus reflecting:\n\u201cSince I have escaped from the hands of those slaves, the mice in the\nruined hut of the old woman are good enough for me.\u201d\n\nHoney is not worth the price of a sting; better it is to be content with\nthe syrup of dates than expose oneself to that.\n\nGod is not pleased with him who is not contented with his lot.\n\n\nSTORY OF A SHORT-SIGHTED MAN AND HIS HIGH-MINDED WIFE\n\nA certain child having cut its teeth, the father bent his head in anxious\nthought and said: \u201cHow can I obtain the bread and food of which the child\nwill now have need?\u201d\n\n\u201cBe not alarmed,\u201d his wife replied, \u201cfor, until our child shall die,\nHe who gave him teeth will send him bread. A rich man provides for his\nslave; why should not He who created the slave do likewise? Thou hast not\nthe trust in God that the purchased slave reposes in his master.\u201d\n\nI have heard that in olden times stones became silver in the hands of\nsaints. Think not that this is contrary to reason\u2014when thou hast become\ncontented, silver and stones will be as one to thee.\n\nSay to the devotee who worships kings that a king is poorer than a\ndarwesh.\n\nA dinar satisfies a beggar; Faridun was but half content with the whole\nof the kingdom of Persia.\n\nA beggar free from care is better off than a troubled king.\n\nThe villager and his wife sleep more happily than the king ever did in\nhis palace.\n\nThough one be a king and the other a cotton-carder, when they sleep in\ndeath the night of both becomes day.\n\nWhen thou seest a rich man filled with pride, go and give thanks, O thou\nwho art poor, that thou, praise be to God! hast not the power to inflict\ninjury upon any one.\n\n\nSTORY OF A HOLY MAN WHO BUILT A HOUSE\n\nA holy man built a house as high as his own stature. Some one said to\nhim: \u201cI know thee able to erect a better house than this.\u201d\n\n\u201cEnough,\u201d he cried, \u201cwhat need have I of a lofty roof? This that I have\nbuilt is high enough for a dwelling which I must leave at death.\u201d\n\nSet not thy house in the path of a flood,[28] O slave, for never will it\nbe perfected.\n\n\nSTORY OF A SHEIKH WHO BECAME KING\n\nA certain king died, and, having no heir, bequeathed the throne to a\nvenerable sheikh. When the recluse heard the roar of the drums of\nempire, he desired no longer the corner of seclusion. He led the army\nto left and right, and became so strong and valiant that he filled the\nhearts of the brave with fear.\n\nAfter he had slain a number of his enemies, some others combined together\nagainst him and reduced him to such straits in his fortified town that he\nsent a message to a pious man, saying: \u201cAid me with thy prayers, for the\nsword and arrow do not avail.\u201d\n\nThe devotee laughed and said: \u201cWhy did he not content himself with half a\nloaf and his vigils? Did not the wealth-worshipping Korah[29] know that\nthe treasure of safety lies in the corner of retirement?\u201d\n\n\nDISCOURSE CONCERNING RICHES\n\nThe generous man may attain to perfection although he possess not gold.\n\nDost think that if a mean man became a Korah his sordid nature would be\nchanged?\n\nIf he who trades in liberality obtain not bread, his nature remains yet\nrich.\n\nGenerosity is the soil, and riches the seed that is sown; give, that the\nroot may not be destitute of a branch.\n\nExert not thyself in the amassing of wealth, for evil is the smell of\nstagnant water; strive, rather, to be generous, for running water\nbecomes a flood.\n\nThe miser who falls from position and wealth but seldom stands a second\ntime upon his feet.\n\nIf thou be a precious jewel,[30] grieve not, for Time will not pass thee\nby; it is the brickbat by the wayside that goes unheeded. Shavings of\ngold that fall from the scissors are searched for with a candle.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nCONCERNING EDUCATION\n\n\nThose who turn the reins of their desires from unlawful things have\nsurpassed Rustam[31] and S\u0101m[32] in valour.\n\nNone is so fearful of the enemy as thou, slave of thine own passions.\n\nThy earthly body is a city, containing both good and evil; thou art the\nKing, and Reason is thy wise minister.\n\nIn this city, the headstrong men pursue their trades of avarice and\ngreed; Resignation and Temperance are the citizens of fame and virtue;\nLust and Wantonness the thieves and pick-pockets.\n\nWhen the king shows favour to the wicked, how can the wise remain in\npeace?\n\nThe passions of evil, envy, and hatred are inherent in thee as is the\nblood of thy veins. If these thine enemies gained in strength they would\nturn their heads from thy rule and counsel; no resistance do they offer\nwhen they see the mailed fist of Reason.\n\nNight-thieves and vagabonds wander not in the places where the patrols\nguard.\n\nThe chief who punishes not his enemy is bereft of power by the strength\nof the latter.\n\nMore on this point I will not speak\u2014a word suffices to him who puts into\npractice what he reads.\n\n\nDISCOURSE CONCERNING THE EXCELLENCE OF TACITURNITY\n\nBe silent, O thou who knowest many things! for he that speaketh little\nwill be free from reproach on the Day of Judgment.\n\nThe man of many words is deaf; no counsel does he heed like silence.\n\nWhen thou desirest continually to speak thou findest no sweetness in the\nspeech of others.\n\nThose who reflect upon right and wrong are better than triflers with\nready answers.\n\nHe that speaks little thou dost never see ashamed; a grain of musk is\nbetter than a heap of mud.\n\nBeware of the fool whose volume of words is as that of ten men\u2014a hundred\narrows shot and each one wide of the target. If thou art wise, shoot one,\nand that one straight.\n\nUtter not slander before a wall\u2014oft may it happen that behind are\nlistening ears.\n\nEnclose thy secrets within the city walls of thy mind, and beware that\nnone may find the gates of thy city open.\n\nA wise man sews up his mouth: the candle is burned by means of its wick.\n\n\nSTORY CONCERNING THE KEEPING OF SECRETS\n\nTakash, king of Persia, imparted a secret to his slaves, adding, \u201cTell it\nnot to any one.\u201d For a year they kept the secret in their hearts; in one\nday it became diffused throughout the world.\n\nThe king ordered the slaves to be executed. One among them begged for\nmercy, saying: \u201cKill not thy slaves, for the fault was thine. Thou didst\nnot dam up that secret when it was a spring: why seek to arrest its\ncourse now that it has become a flood?\u201d\n\nEntrust jewels to treasurers, but be the keeper of thine own secrets.\nThou hast the power until the word be spoken; then, does it gain mastery\nover thee.\n\nSpeech is a demon confined in the well of the mind: leave it not free\non thy palate and tongue. When the genii has escaped from the cage, no\nstratagem will bring him back.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING THE FACT THAT SILENCE IS BEST FOR FOOLS\n\nThere was once in Egypt a religious mendicant who never opened his mouth\nin speech. Wise men assembled around him from far and near, like moths\naround a candle.\n\nOne night, he reflected: \u201cMerit is concealed beneath a silent tongue. If\nI remain thus silent, how will men know that I am learned?\u201d\n\nTherefore he indulged in speech, and his friends and enemies alike found\nhim to be the most ignorant man in Egypt. His followers dispersed and\nhis glory vanished. So he went on a journey and wrote on the wall of a\nmosque: \u201cHad I but seen myself in the mirror of understanding I should\nnot imprudently have torn the veil from off my mind. Although deformed, I\nexposed my figure in the thought that I was handsome.\u201d\n\nA little-talker has a high reputation.\n\nSilence is dignity, and the concealer of blemishes.\n\nExpress not in haste the thoughts of thy mind, for thou canst reveal them\nwhen thou wilt.\n\nThe beasts are silent, and men are endowed with speech\u2014idle talkers are\nworse than the beasts.\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING THE FOLLY OF IMPERTINENCE\n\nIn the course of a dispute some one uttered improper words and was, in\nconsequence, seized and nearly throttled.\n\n\u201cO thou conceited fellow!\u201d said an experienced man, \u201cif thy mouth had\nbeen closed like a bud, thou wouldst not have seen thy skirt torn like a\nflower.\u201d\n\nDost thou not see that fire is nothing but a flame, which at any moment\ncan be quenched with water?\n\nIf a man possess merit, the merit speaks for itself, not the owner of the\nmerit.\n\nIf thou hast not the purest musk, claim not to possess it; if thou hast,\nit makes itself known by its perfume.\n\n\nDISCOURSE ON SLANDER\n\nSpeak no evil concerning the good or the wicked, for thus thou wrongest\nthe former and makest an enemy of the latter.\n\nKnow that he who defames another revealeth his own faults.\n\nIf thou speak evil of any one, thou art sinful, even though what thou\nsayest be true.\n\n\nSTORY CONCERNING THE SAME SUBJECT\n\nTo one who stretched his tongue in slander, a wise man said: \u201cSpeak not\nevil of any one before me, so that I may not think ill of thee. Although\nhis dignity is lowered, thine own honour is not increased thereby.\u201d\n\n\nWHY THIEVING IS BETTER THAN SLANDERING\n\nSome one said: \u201cThieving is better than back-biting.\u201d\n\nI replied: \u201cThat is strange to me. What good seest thou in thieving that\nthou givest it preference to slander?\u201d\n\n\u201cThieves,\u201d he explained, \u201clive by virtue of their strength and daring.\nThe slanderer sins and reaps nothing.\u201d\n\n\nSADI AND HIS ENVIOUS CLASS-FRIEND\n\nA fellow-student at Nezamiah displayed malevolence towards me, and I\ninformed my tutor, saying: \u201cWhenever I give more proper answers than he\nthe envious fellow becomes offended.\u201d\n\nThe professor replied: \u201cThe envy of thy friend is not agreeable to thee,\nbut I know not who told thee that back-biting was commendable. If he seek\nperdition through the path of envy, thou wilt join him by the path of\nslander.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY OF SADI\u2019S CHILDHOOD\n\nWhen a child, unable to distinguish between right and wrong, I once\nresolved to fast, and a certain devout man thus taught me to perform\nmy ablutions and devotions: \u201cFirst,\u201d he said, \u201crepeat the name of God,\naccording to the law of the Prophet; secondly, make a vow; and thirdly,\nwash the palms of the hands. Then wash thy nose and mouth three times and\nrub thy front teeth with thy forefinger, for a tooth-brush is forbidden\nwhen fasting. After that, throw three handfuls of water upon thy face;\nthen wash thy hands and arms up to the elbows and repeat thy prayers by\nthe telling of beads and the recital of the attributes and praises of\nGod. Lastly, wipe again thy head and wash thy feet\u2014thus end in the name\nof God.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo one,\u201d added the old man, \u201cknows the form of ablution better than\nmyself. Dost thou not see that the elder of the village has become\ndecrepit?\u201d\n\nHearing these words, the elder cried: \u201cO impious wretch! Didst thou not\nsay that the use of a tooth-brush was unlawful in fasting?\u2014I suppose,\nthen, that slander is lawful? Before thou settest about a fast, wash\nfirst thy mouth of improper words.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY OF A SUFI\u2019S REBUKE\n\nSome Sufis were sitting together in private, when one of them opened his\nmouth in slander.\n\n\u201cDidst thou ever make a crusade in Europe?\u201d he was asked.\n\n\u201cBeyond the four walls of my house,\u201d he replied, \u201cI have never placed my\nfeet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever have I met so unfortunate a man,\u201d observed the questioner. \u201cThe\ninfidel remains safe from his enmity, yet a Mussulman escapes not the\nviolence of his tongue.\u201d\n\n\nCONCERNING ABSENT FRIENDS\n\nIn relation to an absent friend, two things are unlawful. The first is to\nsquander his possessions; the second, to speak evil of his name.\n\nLook not for good words from him who mentions the names of men with\nscorn, for behind thy back he says those things which he said to thee of\nothers.\n\nHe only is wise who concerns himself with his own affairs and is\nindifferent to the world.\n\n\nWHERE SLANDER IS LAWFUL\n\nThree persons only is it permissible to slander. The first is a\ntyrannical king who oppresses his subjects; it is lawful to speak of\nhis misdeeds so that people may beware of him. The second is he who is\nshameless; deem it not a sin to speak ill of such a one, for by his own\nactions are his faults revealed. The third is he that gives false weight\nand is a cheat; say what thou knowest of his evil ways.\n\n\nTALE-BEARERS WORSE THAN BACK-BITERS\n\nSome one said to a pious man, \u201cKnowest thou what such a one said\nconcerning thee?\u201d\n\n\u201cSilence!\u201d he replied; \u201cit is best not to know what an enemy said. Those\nwho carry the words of an enemy are assuredly worse than the enemy\nhimself. Only they convey the speech of an enemy to a friend who are\nin agreement with the enemy. Thou art worse than an enemy, for thou\nrevealest what he said in private.\u201d\n\nA tale-bearer makes an old strife new; fly as far as thou art able from\none who stirs up a dormant quarrel.\n\nTo be tied by the feet in a gloomy pit is better than to carry mischief\nfrom place to place.\n\nA quarrel is like a fire which the tale-bearer feeds with fuel.\n\n\nFARIDUN[33] AND HIS WISE VAZIER\n\nFaridun had a vazier who was discerning and of enlightened mind.\n\nSome one went to the king one day and said: \u201cThe vazier is thy secret\nenemy. There is not a person in the kingdom to whom he has not lent out\ngold and silver on the condition that at thy death the loans shall be\nrepaid.\u201d\n\nRegarding the vazier with threatening mien, the king exclaimed:\n\n\u201cThou appearest before me in the guise of a friend; why art thou my enemy\nat heart?\u201d\n\nThe vazier kissed the ground as he replied: \u201cI desire, O renowned king,\nthat all the people should be thy well-wishers. Since at thy death they\nmust repay me, they will pray for thy long life from fear of me.\u201d\n\nApproving of this explanation, the king increased the dignities of the\nvazier, while no one was more ill-fated and changed in fortune than the\ntale-bearer.\n\nIt is not compatible with reason to kindle between two men the fire of\nstrife and burn oneself in the flames.\n\n\nDISCOURSE CONCERNING WIVES\n\nThat poor man is a king whose wife is obedient and chaste. Grieve not\nover the troubles of the day when at night the dispeller of thy sorrows\nis by thy side.\n\nHe has obtained his heart\u2019s desire whose beloved is of the same mind as\nhimself.\n\nIf a woman be pure and of kindly speech, regard neither her beauty nor\nher homeliness.\n\nA woman of good nature is more to be desired than one of beauty, for\namiability conceals a multitude of flaws. Beware the ill-tempered fairy.\nMay heaven grant protection from a bad woman!\n\nPrison is preferable to a house full of frowns; travelling is a joy to\nhim whose house contains a woman of ugly mind.\n\nClose the door of happiness upon that house whence the woman\u2019s voice\ncomes louder than her husband\u2019s.\n\nIf thy wife take the road to the bazar, beat her, or sit thyself like a\nwoman in thy house. Let her eyes be blind in the presence of strangers;\nwhen she goeth from thy house, let it be to the grave.\n\nTake a new wife each Spring, O friend, for last year\u2019s almanac serves no\npurpose.\n\nTo walk bare-footed is better than to wear tight shoes; the hardships of\na journey are better than discord at home.\n\n\nDISCOURSE ON THE TRAINING OF SONS\n\nIf thou desire that thy name should remain, train thy son in knowledge\nand wisdom, for if he possess not these thou diest obscure, with no one\nto commemorate thy name.\n\nTeach him a handicraft, though thou be as rich as Korah. Place no hope in\nthe power that thou hast\u2014riches may go from thee.\n\nA bag of silver and gold is emptied; the purse of an artisan remains\nfilled.\n\nDost thou not know how Sadi attained to rank? He journeyed not over the\nplains, nor crossed the seas. In his youth he served under the yoke of\nthe learned: God granted him distinction in after-life. And it is not\nlong before he who serves obtains command.\n\nA boy who suffers not at the hands of his teacher suffers at the hands of\nTime.\n\nMake thy son good and independent, so that he may not be beholden to any\nman.\n\nProtect him from evil associates; and pity him not if he bring ruin and\ndestruction upon himself, for it is better that a vicious son should die\nbefore his father.\n\n\nSADI REBUKED FOR HIS FAULT-FINDING\n\nThere was a certain young preacher who was learned and intelligent, a\nman of sanctity and a true worshipper. He was forcible in eloquence and\ncorrect in grammar, but his articulation was so faulty that he could not\nproperly repeat the letters of the alphabet.\n\nI said to a holy man: \u201cThe youth has not got his front teeth!\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak not thus,\u201d he replied. \u201cThou hast discerned his fault, but thine\neyes are closed to his many virtues. Thorns and roses grow together; why\nregardest thou only the thorns? He who is of bad nature sees nothing in\nthe peacock but its ugly feet.\u201d\n\nExpose not the faults of others, for thereby art thou forgetful of thine\nown failings.\n\nWhether I be good or evil, keep thou silent, for I am the bearer of my\nown profit and loss, and God is better acquainted with my character than\nthou.\n\nI seek no reward from thee for my virtues so that I may not be afflicted\nby thee by reason of my sins.\n\nFor every good act God will bestow, not one, but ten rewards. If thou see\none virtue in a man, do thou pass over the ten faults that he hath.\n\nAre not all things created the product of the art of God?\u2014black they are\nand white, handsome and deformed. Not every eye and eyebrow that thou\nseest is good: eat the kernel of the nut and throw the husk away.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nCONCERNING GRATITUDE\n\n\nI cannot give thanks to that Friend, for I know of none that are worthy.\nEvery hair of my body is a gift from Him; how could I thank Him for every\nhair?\n\nPraise be to the munificent Lord, Who from non-existence brought His\ncreatures into being. Who can describe His goodness? All praises are\nencompassed by His glory.\n\nSee how from childhood to old age he has endowed thee with a splendid\nrobe!\n\nHe made thee pure; therefore, be pure\u2014unworthy it is to die impured by\nsin.\n\nLet not the dust remain upon the mirror, for once grown dull it never\nagain will polish.\n\nWhen thou dost seek to gain the means of life, rely not upon the strength\nof thine own arms.\n\nO self-worshipper! why lookest thou not to God, Who giveth power to thy\nhand?\n\nIf by thy striving thou doest aught of good, take not the credit to\nthyself; know it to be by the grace of God.\n\nThou standest not by thine own strength\u2014from the Invisible art thou\nsustained each moment.\n\n\nA MOTHER\u2019S WARNING TO HER SON\n\nSorrowed at the conduct of her son, who gave no ear to her advice, a\nwoman brought to him the cradle in which once he slept, and said: \u201cO weak\nin love and forgetful of the past! Wast thou not a weeping and helpless\nchild, for whom through many nights I sacrificed my sleep? Thou hadst\nnot then the strength thou hast to-day; thou couldst not ward the flies\nfrom off thy body. A tiny insect gave thee pain; to-day thou excellest\namidst the strong. In the grave wilt thou again be thus, unable to repel\nthe onslaughts of an ant. How, when the grave-worms eat the marrow of\nthy brain, wilt thou relight the Lamp of Intellect? Thou art as a blind\nman who seeth not the way, and knoweth not that a well lies in his path.\nIf thou be grateful for thy sight, \u2019tis well; if not, then surely art\nthou blind. Thy tutor gave thee not the power of wisdom; by God was it\nimplanted in thy nature. Had He withheld this gift from thee, truth would\nhave appeared to thee as falsehood.\u201d\n\n\nDISCOURSE CONCERNING THE ART OF THE MOST HIGH GOD\n\nFor thee is set the bright moon in the sky by night, the\nworld-illuminating sun by day.\n\nLike a chamberlain, the heavens spread for thee the carpet of the Spring.\n\nThe wind and snow, the clouds and rain, the roaring thunder and the\nlightning glittering as a sword\u2014all are His agents, obedient to His word,\nnourishing the seed that thou hast planted in the soil.\n\nIf thou be athirst, fret not; the clouds bear water upon their shoulders.\n\nFrom the bee He giveth thee honey, and manna from the wind; fresh dates\nfrom the date-tree and the date-tree from a seed.\n\nFor thee are the sun and moon and the Pleiades; they are as lanterns upon\nthe roof of thy house.\n\nHe bringeth roses from the thorn and musk from a pod; gold from the mine\nand green leaves from a withered stick.\n\nWith His own hands did He paint thine eye and eyebrows\u2014one cannot leave\none\u2019s bosom friends to strangers.\n\nOmnipotent is He, nourishing the delicate with His many bounties.\n\nRender thanks each moment from thy heart, for gratitude is not the work\nof the tongue alone.\n\nO God, my heart is blood, mine eyes are sore when I behold Thy\nindescribable gifts.\n\n\nDISCOURSE CONCERNING THE CONDITION OF THE WEAK\n\nHe knows not the value of a day of pleasure who has not seen adversity.\nHard is the winter for the beggar\u2014the rich man heeds it not. If thou art\nswift of foot, be thankful when thou lookest upon the lame.\n\nWhat know they of the value of water who dwell upon the banks of the\nJayhun? Ask it of them who are parched in the heat of the sun. What cares\nthe Arab by the Tigris for the thirsty ones of the desert?\n\nHe knows the value of health who lost his strength in fever. How can the\nnight be long to thee reclining in ease upon thy bed? Think of him who is\nracked with fever\u2014the sick man knows the tediousness of the night.\n\nAt the sound of the drum the master awakens\u2014what knows he how the\nwatchman passed the night?\n\n\nSTORY OF TUGHRAL, KING OF SHIR\u0100Z, AND THE HINDU WATCHMAN\n\nOne night in winter Tughral passed by a Hindu sentinel, who was shivering\nlike the star Canopus in the icy rain. Moved to pity, he said: \u201cThou\nshalt have my fur coat. Wait by the terrace and I will send it by the\nhand of a slave.\u201d\n\nOn entering his palace he was met by a beautiful slave, at the sight of\nwhom the poor sentinel passed from his mind. The fur coat slipped through\nthe latter\u2019s ears; through his ill-luck it never reached his shoulders.\n\nThe king slept through the night devoid of care; but what said the chief\nwatchman to him in the morning?\u2014\n\n\u201cPerhaps thou didst forget that \u2018lucky man\u2019 when thy hand was upon the\nbosom of thy slave. By thee the night was spent in tranquillity and joy;\nwhat knowest thou how the night has gone with us?\u201d\n\nThey with the caravan bend their heads over the cauldron; what care they\nfor them that toil on foot through the desert sand?\n\nTarry, O active youths, for old and feeble men are with the caravan. Well\nhast thou slept in the litter while the driver held the nose-string of\nthe camel. What of the desert and mountains? what of the stones and the\nsand? Ask how it fares with them that lag behind.\n\n\nSTORY OF A THIEF\n\nA thief was arrested by a night-watchman and bound by the hands. Thus,\ncrestfallen and afflicted, he remained. During the night he heard some\none cry out in want.\n\n\u201cHow long wilt thou bewail thy lot?\u201d he asked. \u201cGo, sleep, O wretched\nman! give thanks to God that the watchman has not tied thee by the hands.\u201d\n\nBemoan not thine own misfortune when thou seest another more wretched\nthan thyself.\n\n\nSTORY OF ONE WHO WAS NOT WHAT HE SEEMED\n\nSome one passed by a pious man whom he took for a Jew, and, therefore,\nstruck him on the neck. The latter bestowed his robe upon the aggressor,\nwho, becoming ashamed, remarked:\n\n\u201cI acted wrongly and thou hast forgiven me. But what occasion is this for\na gift?\u201d\n\n\u201cI stood not up in anger,\u201d was the reply, \u201cbeing thankful that I was not\na Jew, as thou didst suppose.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY OF A SAGE DONKEY\n\nOne left behind on the road wept, saying, \u201cWho in this desert is more\ndistressed than I?\u201d\n\nA pack-donkey answered: \u201cO senseless man! how long wilt thou bewail the\ntyranny of Fate? Go, and give thanks that, though thou ridest not upon a\ndonkey, thou art not a donkey upon which men ride.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY ILLUSTRATING THE EVILS OF PRIDE\n\nA theologian passed by a drunkard who had fallen by the wayside. Filled\nwith pride at his own piety, he disdained even to regard him.\n\nThe young man raised his head and said: \u201cGo, old man, and give thanks\nthat thou art in the Divine favour\u2014misfortune comes from pride. Laugh\nnot when thou seest one in bonds lest thou likewise become involved.\nAfter all, is it not within the bounds of possibility that to-morrow thou\nmayest fall, like me, by the roadside?\u201d\n\nIf with a mosque the heavens have befriended thee, revile not them that\nworship in the fire-temple.\n\nO Mussulman! fold thy hands and render thanks that He has not bound the\nidolater\u2019s thread about thy waist.\n\nTurn to Him who guides the hand of Fate; blindness it is to look for help\nelsewhere.\n\n\nSTORY OF SADI AND THE IDOLATERS\n\nAt Suman\u0101t[34] I saw an ivory idol. It was set with jewels like the\nMan\u0101t, and nothing more beautiful could have been devised. Caravans from\nevery country brought travellers to its side; the eloquent from every\nclime made supplication before its lifeless figure.\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d I pondered, \u201cdoes a living being worship an inanimate object?\u201d\n\nTo a fire-worshipper, who was a fellow-lodger and friend of mine, I said\nwith gentleness: \u201cO Brahmin! I am astonished at the doings of this place.\nAll are infatuated with this feeble form; they are imprisoned in the\nwell of superstition. No power has the idol to move its hands or feet;\nif thou throw it down, it cannot rise from its place. Dost thou not see\nthat its eyes are of amber?\u2014it were folly to seek faithfulness from the\nstony-eyed.\u201d\n\nThe Brahmin was angered at my words; he became my enemy, and informed the\nidolaters of what I had said. Since to them the crooked road appeared\nstraight, they saw the straight one crooked. Though a man be wise and\nintelligent, he is a fool in the eyes of the ignorant.\n\nLike a drowning man, I was destitute of help; save in politeness, I\nsaw no remedy. When the fool bears malice towards thee, safety lies in\ngentleness and resignation.\n\nTherefore, I praised aloud the chief of the Brahmins, saying: \u201cO old man!\nexpounder of the Asta and Zend! I, too, am pleased with the figure of\nthis idol. Its appearance was strange in my sight\u2014of its nature I have no\nknowledge. Only recently have I arrived in this place, and a stranger can\nseldom distinguish between the evil and the good. Devotion by imitation\nis superstition: what reality is there in the form of this idol, for I am\nforemost among the worshippers?\u201d\n\nThe face of the Brahmin glowed with joy as he said: \u201cThy question is\nreasonable and thy actions are good\u2014whoever seeks for proofs arrives at\nhis destination. Who but this idol can raise his hands to God? If thou\nwilt, tarry here to-night, so that to-morrow the mystery of this may\nbecome known to thee.\u201d\n\nThe night was as long as the Day of Judgment; the fire-worshippers\naround me prayed without ablution. In the morning, they came again into\nthe temple, and I was sick with anger and confused from lack of sleep.\nSuddenly, the idol raised its arm; and later, when the crowd had left,\nthe Brahmin looked smilingly towards me, saying:\n\n\u201cI know that now thou wilt have no doubts; truth has become manifest,\nfalsehood remaineth not.\u201d\n\nSeeing his ignorance thus increased, I shed hypocritical tears and cried:\n\u201cI am sorry for what I said.\u201d\n\nAt the sight of my tears the hearts of the infidels were softened; they\nran towards me in service, and led me by the arms to the ivory idol,\nwhich was seated upon a golden chair set on a throne of teak. I kissed\nthe hand of the little god\u2014curses upon it and upon its worshippers! For\na few days I posed as an infidel and discussed the Zend, like a Brahmin.\nWhen I became a guardian of the temple my joy was such that I could\nscarce control my feelings.\n\nOne night, I closed fast the door of the temple and, searching,\ndiscovered a screen of jewels and gold that went from the top of the\nthrone to the bottom. Behind this screen the Brahmin high priest was\ndevoutly engaged with the end of a rope in his hand. Then did it become\nknown to me that when the rope was pulled the idol of necessity raised\nits arm.\n\nGreatly confused at my presence, the Brahmin ran away in haste: I\nfollowed in hot pursuit and threw him headlong down a well, for I knew\nthat, if he remained alive, he would seek to shed my blood. When the\npurpose of an evil man is revealed to thee, pull him up by the roots,\notherwise will he not desire that thou shouldst live. The alarm being\nraised, I fled quickly from the land. When thou settest fire to a forest\nof canes, beware of the tigers, if thou art wise.\n\nWhenever I supplicate at the shrine of the Knower of Secrets, the\nIndian puppet comes into my recollection\u2014it throws dust on the pride of\nmine eyes. I know that I raise my hand, but not by virtue of mine own\nstrength. Men of sanctity stretch not out their hands themselves: the\nFates invisibly pull the strings.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nCONCERNING REPENTANCE\n\n\nO thou of whose life seventy years have passed, perhaps thou hast slept\nin negligence that thy days have been thrown to the winds. Worldly aims\nhast thou well pursued; no preparations hast thou made for the departure\nto that world to come.\n\nOn the Judgment Day, when the bazar of Paradise will be arrayed, rank\nwill be assigned in accordance with one\u2019s deeds.\n\nIf thou shouldst take a goodly stock of virtues, in proportion will be\nthy profit; if thou be bankrupt, thou wilt be ashamed.\n\nIf fifty years of thy life have passed, esteem as a precious boon the few\nthat yet remain.\n\nWhile still thou hast the power of speech, close not thy lips like the\ndead from the praise of God.\n\n\nAN OLD MAN\u2019S LAMENT\n\nOne night, in the season of youth, several of us young men sat together;\nwe sang like bulbuls and raised a tumult in the street by our mirth.\n\nAn old man sat silent, apart; like a filbert-nut, his tongue was closed\nfrom speech. A youth approached him and said: \u201cO old man! why sittest\nthou so mournfully in this corner? Come, raise thy head from the collar\nof grief and join us in our festivity.\u201d\n\nThus did the old man reply: \u201cWhen the morning breeze blows over the\nrose-garden, the young trees proudly wave their branches. It becomes not\nme to mingle in thy company, for the dawn of old age has spread over my\ncheeks. Thy turn it is to sit at this table of youth; I have washed my\nhands of youthful pleasures. Time has showered snow upon my crow-like\nwings; like the bulbul, I could not sport in the garden. Soon will\nthe harvest of my life be reaped; for thee, the new green leaves are\nbursting. The bloom has faded from my garden; who makes a nosegay from\nwithered flowers? I must weep, like a child, in shame for my sins, but\ncannot emulate his pleasures.\u201d\n\nWell has Luqman said: \u201cIt is better not to live at all than to live many\nyears in sinfulness.\u201d Better, too, may it be to close the shop in the\nmorning than to sell the stock at a loss.\n\n\nADVICE AND WARNING\n\nTo-day, O youth, take the path of worship, for to-morrow comes old\nage. Leisure thou hast, and strength\u2014strike the ball when the field is\nwide.[35]\n\nI knew not the value of life\u2019s day till now that I have lost it.\n\nHow can an old ass strive beneath its burden?\u2014go thy way, for thou ridest\na swift-paced horse.\n\nA broken cup that is mended\u2014what will its value be? Now that in\ncarelessness the cup of life has fallen from thy hand, naught remains but\nto join the pieces.\n\nNegligently hast thou let the pure water go; how canst thou now perform\nthy ablutions, except with sand?[36]\n\n\nSADI\u2019S REBUKE FROM A CAMEL-DRIVER\n\nOne night in the desert of Faid[37] my feet became fettered with sleep. A\ncamel-driver awoke me, saying: \u201cArise; since thou heedest not the sound\nof the bell, perhaps thou desirest to be left behind! I, like thee, would\nsleep awhile, but the desert stretches ahead. How wilt thou reach the\njourney\u2019s end if thou sleepest when the drum of departure beats?\u201d\n\nHappy are they who have prepared their baggage before the beat of the\ndrum! The sleepers by the wayside raise not their heads and the caravan\nhas passed out of sight.\n\nHe who was early awake surpassed all on the road; what availed it to\nawaken when the caravan had gone?\n\nThis is the time to sow the deeds of the harvest thou wouldst reap.\n\nGo not bankrupt to the Resurrection, for it availeth not to sit in\nregret. By means of the stock that thou hast, O son, profit can be\nacquired; what profit accrueth to him who consumeth his stock himself?\n\nStrive now, when the water reacheth not beyond thy waist; delay not until\nthe flood has passed over thy head.\n\nHeed the counsel of the wise to-day, for to-morrow will Nakir[38]\nquestion thee with sternness. Esteem as a privilege thy precious soul,\nfor a cage without a bird has no value. Waste not thy time in sorrow and\nregret, for opportunity is precious and Time is a sword.\n\n\nSTORY CONCERNING SORROW FOR THE DEAD\n\nA certain man died and another rent his clothes in grief. Hearing his\ncries, a sage exclaimed: \u201cIf the dead man possessed the power he would\ntear his shroud by reason of thy wailing and would say: \u2018Do not torment\nthyself on account of my affliction, since a day or two before thee I\nmade ready for the journey. Perhaps thou hast forgotten thine own death,\nthat my decease has made thee so distressed.\u2019\u201d\n\nWhen he whose eyes are open to the truth scatters flowers over the dead,\nhis heart burns not for the dead but for himself.\n\nWhy dost thou weep over the death of a child? He came pure, and he\ndeparted pure.\n\nTie now the feet of the bird of the soul; tarry not till it has borne the\nrope from thy hand.\n\nLong hast thou sat in the place of another; soon will another sit in thy\nplace.\n\nThough thou be a hero or a swordsman, thou wilt carry away nothing but\nthe shroud.\n\nIf the wild ass break its halter and wander into the desert its feet\nbecame ensnared in the sand. Thou, too, hast strength till thy feet go\ninto the dust of the grave.\n\nSince yesterday has gone and to-morrow has not come, take account of this\none moment that now is.\n\nIn this garden of the world there is not a cypress that has grown which\nthe wind of death has not uprooted.\n\n\nSTORY OF A PIOUS MAN AND A GOLD BRICK\n\nA gold brick fell into the hands of a pious man and so turned his head\nthat his enlightened mind became gloomy. He passed the whole night in\nanxious thought, reflecting: \u201cThis treasure will suffice me till the\nend of my life; no longer shall I have to bend my back before any one\nin begging. A house will I build, the foundation of which shall be of\nmarble; the rafters of the ceiling shall be of aloe-wood. A special room\nwill I have for my friends, and its door shall lead into a garden-house.\nServants shall cook my food, and in ease will I nourish my soul. This\ncoarse woollen bed-cloth has killed me by its roughness; now will I go\nand spread a carpet.\u201d\n\nHis imaginings made him crazy; the crab had pierced its claws into his\nbrain. He forsook his prayers and devotions, and neither ate nor slept.\n\nUnable to rest tranquil in one place, he wandered to a plain, with\nhis head confused with the charms of his vain fancies. An old man was\nkneading mud upon a grave for the purpose of making bricks. Absorbed in\nthought for a while, the old man said:\n\n\u201cO foolish soul! hearken to my counsel. Why hast thou attached thy mind\nto that goldbrick when one day they will make bricks from thy dust? The\nmouth of a covetous man is too widely open that it can be closed again by\none morsel. Take, O base man, thy hand from off that brick, for the river\nof thy avarice cannot be dammed up with a brick.\n\n\u201cSo negligent hast thou been in the thought of gain and riches that\nthe stock of thy life has become trodden underfoot. The dust of lust\nhas blinded the eyes of thy reason\u2014the simoon of desire has burned the\nharvest of thy life.\u201d\n\nWipe the antimony of neglect from off thine eyes, for to-morrow wilt thou\nbe reduced to antimony under the dust.\n\n\nADMONITION\n\nThy life is a bird, and its name is Breath. When the bird has flown from\nits cage it cometh not back to captivity.\n\nBe watchful, for the world lasts but a moment, and a moment spent with\nwisdom is better than an age with folly.\n\nWhy fix we thus our minds upon this caravanserai? Our friends have\ndeparted and we are on the road. After us, the same flowers will bloom in\nthe garden, together will friends still sit.\n\nWhen thou comest to Shiraz,[39] dost thou not cleanse thyself from the\ndust of the road?\n\nSoon, O thou polluted with the dust of sin, wilt thou journey to a\nstrange city. Weep, and wash with thy tears thy impurities away.\n\n\nMORAL FROM AN INCIDENT IN SADI\u2019S CHILDHOOD\n\nI remember that, in the time of my childhood, my father (may God\u2019s mercy\nbe upon him every moment!), bought me a gold ring. Soon after, a hawker\ntook the ring from my hand in exchange for a date-fruit.\n\nWhen a child knows not the value of a ring he will part with it for a\nsweetmeat. Thou, too, didst not recognise the value of life, but indulged\nthyself in vain pleasures.\n\nIn the Day of Judgment, when the good will attain to the highest dignity\nand mount from the bottommost depths of the earth to the Pleiades, thy\nhead will hang forward in shame, for thy deeds will gather around thee.\n\nO brother! be ashamed of the works of the evil, for ashamed wilt thou be\nat the Resurrection in the presence of the good.\n\n\nSTORY OF A MAN WHO REARED A WOLF\n\nSome one reared a wolf-cub, which, when grown in strength, tore its\nmaster to pieces. When the man was on the point of death a sage passed by\nand said: \u201cDidst thou not know that thou wouldest suffer injury from an\nenemy thus carefully reared?\u201d\n\nHow can we raise our heads from shame when we are at peace with Satan and\nat war with God?\n\nThy friend regards thee not when thou turnest thy face towards the enemy.\n\nHe who lives in the house of an enemy deems right estrangement from a\nfriend.\n\n\nSTORY OF A CHEAT\n\nSome one robbed the people of their money by cheating, and whenever he\nhad accomplished one of his nefarious acts he cursed the Evil One, who\nsaid:\n\n\u201cNever have I seen such a fool! Thou hast intrigued with me secretly;\nwhy, therefore, dost thou raise the sword of enmity against me?\u201d\n\nAlas! that the angels should record against thee iniquities committed by\nthe order of the Evil One!\n\nGo forward when thou seest that the door of peace is open, for suddenly\nthe door of repentance will be closed.\n\nMarch not under a load of sin, O son, for a porter becomes exhausted on\nthe journey.\n\nThe Prophet is the Mediator of him who follows the highway of his laws.\n\n\nA RECOLLECTION OF CHILDHOOD\n\nIn the time of my childhood I went out with my father during the Id\nFestival, and in the tumult of the mob got lost. I cried in fear, when my\nfather suddenly pulled my ear, and said: \u201cSeveral times did I tell thee\nnot to take thy hand from the skirt of my robe.\u201d\n\nA child knows not how to go alone; it is difficult to travel on any road\nunseen.\n\nThou, poor man, art as a child in thine endeavours; go, hold the skirt\nof the virtuous. Sit not with the base, but fasten thy hand to the\nsaddle-straps of the pious.\n\nGo, like Sadi, glean the corn of wisdom so that thou mayest store a\nharvest of divine knowledge.\n\n\nSTORY OF ONE WHO BURNED HIS HARVEST\n\nIn the month of July, a certain man stored his grain and set his mind at\nease concerning it. One night, he became intoxicated and lighted a fire,\nwhich destroyed his harvest.\n\nThe next day he sat down to glean the ears of corn, but not a single\ngrain remained in his possession. Seeing him thus afflicted, some one\nremarked: \u201cIf thou didst not wish for this misfortune, thou shouldst not\nin folly have burned thy harvest.\u201d\n\nThou, whose years have been wasted in iniquity, art he who burns the\nharvest of his life.\n\nDo not so, O my life! Sow the seeds of religion and justice, and throw\nnot to the winds the harvest of a good name.\n\nKnock at the door of forgiveness before thy punishment arrives, for\nlamentation beneath the lash is of no avail.\n\n\nDISCOURSE ON REPENTANCE\n\nHe who supplicates the Deity by night will not be shamed on the Day of\nJudgment.\n\nIf thou art wise, pray for forgiveness in the night for the sins that\nthou hast committed in the day.\n\nWhat is thy fear if thou hast made thy peace with God? He closes not the\ndoor of forgiveness upon them that supplicate Him.\n\nIf thou art a servant of God, raise thy hands in prayer; and if thou be\nashamed, weep in sorrow.\n\nNo one has stood upon His threshold whose sins the tears of repentance\nhave not washed away.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nCONCERNING PRAYER\n\n\nCome, let us raise our hands in prayer, for to-morrow they will be\npowerless in the dust.\n\nThink not that he who supplicates before the Door of Mercy, which is\nnever shut, will turn away in hopelessness.\n\nO Lord, regard us with compassion, for sin has entered among thy servants.\n\nO gracious God! by Thy bounty have we been sustained; to Thy gifts and\nlovingkindness have we become habituated.\n\nSince in this life Thou hast ennobled us above all things created, hope\nof similar glory have we in the world to come.\n\nO God, humiliate me not by reason of Thy greatness; make me not ashamed\nby reason of my sins.\n\nLet no one prevail over me, for it is better that I should suffer\npunishment from Thy hand.\n\nLet it suffice that I am ashamed in Thy presence; make me not ashamed\nbefore my fellow-men.\n\nIf the shadow of Thy mercy fall upon me, mean is the dignity of the sky\nbefore mine eyes.\n\nIf Thou give to me a crown, I will raise my head: exalt me, so that no\none may cast me down.\n\n\nA WORSHIPPER\u2019S LAMENT\n\nI tremble when I recall the prayer of one distracted in the temple of\nMecca. Thus did he lament:\n\n\u201cThrow me not down, for no one will hold my hand to succour me. Whether\nThou call me or drive me away, my head has no resting-place but Thy\nthreshold. Thou knowest that I am poor and helpless; I am oppressed by\nmy evil passions. Keep me from pollution, and forgive my sins. Close not\nmine eyes from the face of happiness; bind not my tongue when I recite\nthe creed. Place the lamp of Faith before my way; make my hand short from\ndoing evil. From the sun of Thy goodness one ray suffices, for except in\nThy rays I am not seen. Why should I weep because of my condition? If I\nam weak, my refuge is strong.\u201d\n\n\nSTORY OF AN IDOLATER\n\nA fire-worshipper turned his back upon the world and girt up his loins in\nthe service of an idol. After some years he was overtaken by misfortune\nand wept at the feet of the idol, saying: \u201cI am afflicted\u2014help me, O\nidol! I am weary\u2014have pity upon me.\u201d\n\nLong did he continue in his lamentation, but no benefit did he derive.\nHow can an idol accomplish the desires of a man when of itself it cannot\ndrive away a fly?\n\nThe idolater frowned and said: \u201cO thou, whose feet are bound to error!\nwith folly have I worshipped thee for years. Help me to fulfil my wishes,\nor I will ask them of God.\u201d\n\nWhile his face was yet besmeared with the dust of the idol\u2019s feet, the\nAlmighty fulfilled his object.\n\nA pious man was astonished when he heard this. Then did a voice from\nheaven speak into his ear, saying: \u201cThis old man prayed before the idol,\nbut his prayer was not heard. If at the shrine of God he were likewise\nspurned, what difference would there be between an idol and Him Who is\neternal?\u201d\n\n\n\n\nNOTES\n\n\n[1] _I.e._ the _Bust\u0101n_.\n\n[2] _I.e._ its ten chapters.\n\n[3] Lit. \u201cbone\u201d; used metaphorically in the sense of \u201ca truth.\u201d\n\n[4] One of the kings of Persia in whose reign Sadi flourished. His full\nname was At\u0101bak Muzaffar-ud-Din \u0100b\u016b Bakr-hin-Sa\u2019d-hin-zang\u012b.\n\n[5] _I.e._ Abu Bakr.\n\n[6] Naush\u012brav\u0101n the Just was the twentieth king of the fourth dynasty of\nPersia, and contemporary with the Roman Emperor Justinian. The Prophet\nMuhammad was born in his reign.\n\n[7] A title of the kings of Persia. It was originally applied to\nNaush\u012brav\u0101n.\n\n[8] Lit. \u201csilver.\u201d\n\n[9] Darius Codomanus was the last king of Persia. He waged many wars with\nAlexander the Great, who finally defeated him at Arbela. The unfortunate\nking was afterwards killed by one Bessus, governor of Bactriana, 331 B.C.\n\n[10] One of the kings of Persia. He was called Qazal because of the\nredness of his hair. Arsal\u0101n means \u201ca lion.\u201d\n\n[11] Name of a lofty mountain situated in Hamd\u0101n, north-west of Isfahan.\n\n[12] _I.e._ shows one thing and sells another of inferior quality. The\nexpression is commonly used to denote a hypocrite.\n\n[13] To do either is considered an act of virtue among Muhammadans.\n\n[14] By reason of the opportunity it presented to bestow his charity.\n\n[15] It is impossible to convey the beauty of this line in English. The\nPersian words here used to express \u201cfood\u201d and \u201ckiss\u201d are written alike,\nexcept for one diacritical mark, and the word \u201cchange\u201d literally means\n\u201cmaking an error in writing and changing the diacritical points.\u201d\n\n[16] H\u0101tim Tai was an Arabian chief who was renowned for his generosity.\nHe was born in Yaman, in Arabia Felix, and lived some time before\nMuhammad in the sixth century. Many legends have been woven round his\nlife and character.\n\n[17] Horse-flesh was formerly eaten in parts of the East.\n\n[18] _I.e._ their love for God is insatiable.\n\n[19] _I.e._ the fire of love.\n\n[20] \u201cGold\u201d refers to \u201clife,\u201d and \u201cFriend\u201d to \u201cGod.\u201d The meaning is that\none should devote one\u2019s life to religion, and thus gain an entrance to\nthe presence of the Deity.\n\n[21] B\u0101yaz\u012bd Bast\u0101m\u012b was a celebrated saint of Bust\u0101n, in Persia. He died\nA.D. 261.\n\n[22] Ab\u016bl Mahf\u016bz, surnamed Mar\u016bf, was a celebrated saint of Kareh, a\nvillage in Baghdad. He was the son of a fire-worshipper, and was born\nA.D. 813, during the reign of Caliph M\u0101m\u016bn, son of the celebrated\nH\u0101r\u016bn-ar-Rash\u012bd.\n\n[23] Ab\u016b-al-Hasan K\u016bshy\u0101r was a celebrated astronomer and the tutor of\nAnicenna.\n\n[24] Luqman was a famous Greek philosopher, and is supposed by some to\nhave been the author of _\u00c6sop\u2019s Fables_.\n\n[25] Bakhty\u0101r literally means \u201cfortunate\u201d; the play on the word is,\ntherefore, obvious.\n\n[26] \u201cDarkness\u201d and \u201clight\u201d are used metaphorically in the sense of\n\u201cfalseness\u201d and \u201ctruth.\u201d\n\n[27] Khwarazm is situated to the east of the Caspian Sea, near the mouth\nof the Oxus.\n\n[28] _I.e._ in this transient and fleeting world.\n\n[29] Korah, the cousin of Moses and the proverbial miser of the Easterns.\n\n[30] _I.e._ if you possess merit.\n\n[31] A famous hero; the Hercules of the Persians.\n\n[32] The grandfather of Rustam, and, like him, a celebrated hero.\n\n[33] Faridun was the seventh king of Persia, his reign commencing about\n750 B.C. He was the boast of the Persians and a model of every virtue.\n\n[34] A celebrated temple in Guzerat demolished by Sultan Mahmud of Ghazni\nin A.D. 1024.\n\n[35] _I.e._ engage in good works while you still have time.\n\n[36] Muhammad commanded that sand should be used for ablution before\nprayer when water was unobtainable, as is more often than not the case in\nthe desert.\n\n[37] Name of a village on the road to Mecca.\n\n[38] The angel who examines the dead in their graves.\n\n[39] _I.e._ your native land.\n\n\n_Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury._\n\n\n\n\nTHE WISDOM OF THE EAST SERIES\n\nEdited by L. CRANMER-BYNG and Dr. S. A. KAPADIA\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\nTHE SERIES AND ITS PURPOSE\n\nThe object of the Editors of this Series is a very definite one. They\ndesire above all things that, in their humble way, these books shall be\nthe ambassadors of good-will and understanding between East and West\u2014the\nold world of Thought and the new of Action. 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From these vivid narratives of old-world\nromance it will be possible for the reader to glean much information\nconcerning the lives and manners and customs of vanished races, and the\ngreatness of Empires that have passed away.\n\n TALES OF THE CALIPHS. From the Arabic\n Translated by CLAUD FIELD\n\n TALES WITHIN TALES. From the Fables of Pilpai\n Translated by Sir ARTHUR WOLLASTON, K.C.I.E.\n\n THE GOLDEN TOWN. From the Sanskrit of Soma Deva\n Translated by Dr. L. D. BARNETT\n\n_Works added to the Series will be announced in due course_\n\n LONDON\n JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.","title":"The Bust\u0101n of Sadi: Translated from the Persian with an introduction","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":26362}