But full details connected with the above will be found, if required, in Hughes 'Dictionary of Islam,' so that further reference to them here is unnecessary. It must, however, always be remembered that faith and prayer were the two points which Muhammad always insisted upon as absolutely essential.
The Muhammadan religion may be regarded as creating in theory the purest democracy in existence. All men are supposed to be equal. There are no hereditary titles. Every man can rise, either by interest or talent, from the very lowest to the very highest position. There is a universal feeling of brotherhood among the Muslims. All this is excellent in theory, but in practice the ways of the world are different. A Pasha holds his place and upholds his position, while a humble follower of the said Pasha, or other person in an inferior position, knows his place also, and treats his superiors and his inferiors accordingly. In fact, both in the East and the West there appears to be a place for all men, and that place is established by the unwritten laws of the world or by the law of nature, in spite of the many theories propounded by religion, politics, or political economy. Still, Muhammad himself instilled equality among his followers, and in his parting address at Mina, at the time of the farewell pilgrimage, spoke as follows:
'Ye people! hearken to my speech and comprehend the same. Know that every Muslim is the brother of every other Muslim. All of you are on the same equality' (and as he pronounced these words he raised his arms aloft and placed the forefinger of one hand on the forefinger of the other, intending thereby to signify that all were absolutely on the same level); 'ye are one brotherhood.
'Know ye what month this is? What territory is this? What day?' To each question the people gave the appropriate answer, viz.:
'The sacred month, the sacred territory, the great day of pilgrimage.'After every one of these replies Muhammad added:
'Even thus sacred and inviolable hath God made the life and the property of each of you unto the other, until ye meet your Lord.
'Let him that is present tell it unto him that is absent. Haply, he that shall be told may remember better than he who hath heard it.'
Of the two hundred and fifty books of tales, the titles of which are given in the 'Fihrist,' only three or four have attained European fame. Firstly, the book known in Arabic as 'Kalilah wa Dimnah,' containing the celebrated Indian apologues, or the so-called fables of Bidpay, on the origin of which several dissertations have been written.
In 'Early Ideas' (W.H. Allen and Co., 1881) mention was made of the fables of Bidpay, or Pilpai, as being the traditionally oldest-known collection of stories in Hindustan, and that from them the 'Pancha Tantra,' or 'Five Chapters,' and the 'Hitopodesa,' or 'Friendly Advice,' are supposed to have been drawn.
In 'Persian Portraits' (Quaritch, 1887) it was noted that the Persian work called 'Kalilah wa Dimnah' is said to have been originally derived from the fables of Bidpay, and that it led to the longer and larger works known in Persian literature as the 'Anwar-i-Suheli,' or 'The Lights of Canopos,' and the 'Ayar-Danish,' or 'The Touchstone of Knowledge.'
It is highly probable that this work of 'Kalilah wa Dimnah' (translated from Persian into Arabic by Ibn Al-Mukaffa about A.D. 750), and another Persian work, not now extant, but known as the 'Hazar Afsaneh,' or 'Thousand Stories,' were the first sources from which were commenced to be compiled the best collection of tales and stories in Arabic literature, and called 'The Thousand and One Nights,' and popularly known in this country as 'The Arabian Nights.'
As regards the 'Hazar Afsaneh,' or 'Thousand Stories,' it is much to be regretted that all trace of this work has disappeared. It is, however, mentioned by Masudi, and An-Nadim, the author of the 'Fihrist,' but whether they had actually seen and perused the whole work is uncertain. It may have been completed during the rule of the Sasanian dynasty in Persia (A.D. 228-641), some of whose kings were patrons of letters, and the work, or portions of it, may have been destroyed along with a large quantity of other Persian literature at the time of the conquest of the Persian Empire by the Arabs in A.D. 641. At all events, it has not yet been found, though it is still hoped that it may turn up some day.
As regards the 'Nights' themselves, it is impossible to fix any exact date to them, neither can they be ascribed to any particular authors. From the book as it has come down to us; there is ample evidence to assert that the collection of all the tales and stories occupied many years, and that the authors of them were numerous. As great progress was made in Arab literature from the commencement of the rule of the Abbaside dynasty in A.D. 750, it maybe inferred that the work itself dates from that period, and that it had been put together in a certain form before the fall of Baghdad in A.D. 1258. After that date other stories were probably added, and the whole répertoire was perhaps put together again in its present shape either at Cairo or Damascus, with numerous alterations and additions.
It is believed that the fables and apologues are the oldest part of the book. These bear on their face a decided impress of the Farther East; indeed, they are quite of the nature of the stories told in the 'Pancha Tantra,' 'Kathá Sarit Ságara,' 'Hitopodesa,' and 'Kalilah wa Dirnnah,' many of them being either the same, or bearing a very great resemblance to them. Animal fables generally may have originated in India, where the doctrine of metempsychosis obtains currency to this day; but, still, Egypt, Greece, and other countries, have also produced stories of the same nature. From the time of the early Egyptians, the fable has ever been the means of conveyance of both instruction and amusement to mankind. And as years rolled by the fable grew into the tale or story, which later on expanded into the romance and the novel.
After the fables the oldest tales in the 'Nights' are supposed to be the Sindibad, or the tale of the king, his son, his concubine, and the seven wazirs; and that of King Jali'ad of Hind, and his wazir Shimas, followed by the history of King Wird Khan, son of King Jali'ad, with his women and wazirs. These tales have also an Indian flavour about them, both with regard to the animal stories in them and to the sapient remarks about the duties of kings and their ministers, often referred to in the Kathá Sarit Ságara, of which more anon.
The remaining tales and stories in the 'Nights' may be of Persian, Arabian, Egyptian, and Syrian origin, some earlier and some later. The adventures of Kamar Al-Zaman and the jeweller's wife, and of Ma'aruf, the cobbler, and his wife Fatimah, are considered to be two of the very latest stories, having been assigned to the sixteenth century. The story of Aboukir, the dyer, and Abousir, the barber, is quoted by Payne 'as the most modern of the whole collection.'
Certain stories of the 'Nights' were first introduced to Europe, between 1704-1708, by Antoine Galland, a Frenchman, whose biography is given by Burton in his 'Terminal Essay,' vol. x., and most interesting it is. The work of the translation of Arabic and Persian stories was continued by Petis de la Croix (1710-12), Morell (1765), Dow (1768), Chavis and Cazotte (1787-89), Caussin de Perceval (1806), Gauttier (1822), Jonathan Scott (1811), Von Hammer Purgstall (1823), Zinzerling (1823-24), Trebutien (1828), Habicht (1825-39), Weil (1838-42), Torrens (1838), Lane (1838-40), and the 'Nights' themselves have now been completely finished by John Payne (1882-84) and Richard Burton (1885-88).
A perusal of the productions of all the translators above mentioned will show that, as regards finality, both Payne and Burton have done their work completely, thoroughly, and exhaustively, and for all time, as far as an English translation is concerned. Too much credit cannot be given to these two gentlemen for their untiring labour and energy. The more the 'Nights' are read, the more will people appreciate the amount of hard work and acumen, intelligence and ability, which has been thrown into the undertaking by these two accomplished littérateurs. And it is highly probable that their translations, along with Galland's volumes in French, will ever remain as the standard European versions of this great series of Oriental tales.
Space will not permit of a lengthy description of all that is contained in Payne's thirteen, and in Burton's sixteen, volumes. To be appreciated thoroughly, they must be read, like Balzac's works, from the very beginning to the very end. At the same time a brief analysis of these two translations of the 'Nights' may perhaps be interesting, and will serve the purposes of the present chapter.
The first nine of Payne's, and the first ten of Burton's, volumes are devoted to the 'Nights' proper, and follow the same lines. The translation has been made from what are commonly known as the Boulac (Cairo) and the two Calcutta Arabic texts of the 'Nights,' though references are made to the Breslau (Tunis) edition, from which also some extracts have been taken and some translations made. The contents of these volumes may be divided into four heads:
(1) Fables and apologues.
(2) Short stories and anecdotes, some biographical and historical.
(3) Tales and stories.
(4) Long stories, or romances.
Excluding the two short stories in the introductory chapter, there are 10 principal and 6 subordinate fables under the first heading, 116 principal and 3 subordinate stories under the second, 38 principal and 75 subordinate under the third, and 6 principal and 12 subordinate under the fourth heading. This gives a total of 170 principal and 96 subordinate stories in Burton's edition, while Payne gives one principal story and one subordinate one less, his numbers being 169 and 95 respectively. By principal is meant the main or chief story, while by subordinate is meant another story forming part of the main story. In Oriental literature this custom is frequently introduced. A story is commenced, but owing to some allusion in it another story is interpolated, and when this is finished, the original tale is reverted to, only, perhaps, to be interpolated again by another story, and so on.
Out of this mass of fable, tale and story, it is difficult to select any particular ones that may prove interesting to everybody. Some are very good, others good, some fairish, and others indifferent; but all are more or less interesting, as they deal with all sorts and conditions of men and women, and all sorts of events and situations. Personally, some twelve stories have struck me as particularly interesting or amusing, though it does not at all follow that what one person fancies another person cares about. A perusal of the work itself will enable its readers to find out what they like for themselves, while the following brief remarks on the twelve stories alluded to above will give a scanty outline of them.
The tale of Aziz and Azizah is one of the best in the whole collection. It represents the care and fondness of a truly loving woman, who did her best to shield and protect her very stupid cousin. It is said that people marry for three reasons, viz., for love, for money, or for protection. In truth, nobody can protect a man from a woman as another woman. No man can drive off a woman, divine her intention, or insult her so violently as a woman can, and this is generally understood both in the East and West. In the present story, Azizah first helps her cousin Aziz to woo and win, endeavouring to shield and protect him at the same time from this daughter of Dalilah, the wily one. Had it not been for Azizah's good advice and farewell saying of "Faith is fair, and unfaith is foul," Aziz would have surely perished. Eventually, the loving Azizah dies of a broken heart.
Aziz, though repeatedly warned by his mistress, the daughter of Dalilah, not to have anything to do with the sex on account of his youth and simplicity, falls into the hands of another woman, who first marries him, and then keeps him locked up in her house, and never lets him out for a whole year. When, however, he does get away for a day only, he goes at once to see his former mistress, who is furious on hearing that he is married to somebody else, and with the aid of her slave girls serves him out in a way which, from one point of view, makes marriage quite a failure for him in the future. On going back to his wife, she, having found out what had occurred, immediately puts him into the street, and he returns in a sad plight to his mother, who nurses him and gives him the present and the letter that his cousin Azizah had left for him. Finally Aziz, for the sake of distraction, takes to foreign travel, and there meets with Taj al Muluk, whom he assists to find the princess Dunya.
The tale of Kamar Al-Zaman and the Lady Budur is both amusing and interesting. It is truly an Eastern story, full of curious and wonderful situations, and quite a kaleidoscope of passing events, which succeed each other rapidly. The hero and the heroine are a young prince and princess, living in very different parts of the world (space and geography have no place in the "Nights"), and both very averse to matrimony. The one fears the smiles and wiles of woman, the other the tyranny and selfishness of man. A certain Queen of the Jinns, with her assistants, bring the two together one night in the same bed, and separate them in the morning. But the sight that each had had of the other caused them to fall desperately in love, and deep are the lamentations of each over the separation, which continues for some years. At last Kamar Al-Zaman finds his way to his lady-love, the Princess Budur, and they are happily wedded; alas! after a short time, to be again separated. Then follow the adventures of each—the lady becomes a king, and is married to a princess, and rules a country, while Kamar Al-Zaman's fate assigns him the place of an under-gardener. Destiny, however, re-unites them, and the Lady Budur's joke before recognition and re-union is certainly humorous. She makes him further marry the lady that she herself was married to, and a son is born to each, respectively called Amjad and Asaad. When the boys grow up, the mother of each falls violently in love with the son of the other,i.e., Budur adores Asaad, and Heyat en Nufus worships Amjad, and the two mothers end by making dishonourable proposals to the two sons. These overtures being indignantly rejected, the mothers, as in all Eastern tales, turn the tables by informing their husband that his sons had made indecent proposals to them. In consequence they are sent off to be slain in the desert, but, from the circumstances which occur there, the executioner spares their lives, and returns with their clothes steeped in a lion's blood, reporting that he has carried out the king's instructions, and quoting their last message to their father:
'Women are very devils, made to work us dole and death;Refuge I seek with God Most High from all their craft andskaith.Prime source are they of all the ills that fall upon mankind,Both in the fortunes of this world and matters of the faith.'
The king at once recognises their innocence, and mourns over their loss, building two tombs in their memory, called the Houses of Lamentations, where he spends his days weeping.
Meanwhile the two youths, left to their own devices by the executioner, journey onward, arrive at a city, become separated, go through all sorts of adventures, all of a most thrilling description, and are finally re-united. The closing scene brings all the characters of the romance together at the same place, and the grandfathers, fathers, and sons all meet once more, but no further mention is made about the two mothers, who so deeply injured their own offspring.
Ala Aldin Abu Al-Shamat.—This story is of considerable interest, for it begins with a recipe for an aphrodisiac, and contains many allusions to Eastern manners and customs. Born of wealthy parents at Cairo, details are given of Ala Aldin's youth and boyhood, and of how the wish to travel and to trade was instilled into his mind by his young companions, at the instigation of a crafty old sinner, Mahmud of Balkh. With some reluctance his father at last allows him to start, and going first to Damascus, then to Aleppo, he is robbed of all his property just before he reaches Baghdad, and very nearly loses his life into the bargain, but his good fortune saves him on two occasions. Arrived at Baghdad, his adventures begin, and they follow each other with considerable rapidity. He first is married to Zobeidah the Lutist, on the understanding that it was for one night only, and that he was to divorce her the next morning, so that she might be re-married to her former husband. But when the time comes, Ala Aldin and the lady find each other such pleasant company that they absolutely decline to divorce, and elect to pay the fine. This money is provided for them by Harun-ar-Rashid, who visits them one night with three of his companions all disguised as dervishes, and they are charmed with Zobeidah's performance on the lute, her singing, and her recitations.
Ala Aldin then goes to the Court, where he rises to high favour and receives various good appointments. To his great grief he loses his wife, who dies, as he supposes, and is buried with the usual mourning, but in reality turns up again at the end of the tale, and is re-united to her husband. It appears that a servant of the Jinn had carried her off to another country, leaving a Jinneyah to be buried in her place.
To make up for the loss of Zobeidah, the Khalif gives Ala Aldin one of his own slave-girls, Kut al Kulub by name, and sends her, with all her belongings, to his house. Ala Aldin will not have anything to do with her, on the grounds—"What was the master's should not become the man's;" but he lodges, boards, and treats her handsomely. Eventually Harun takes her back, and orders a slave-girl to be bought at his expense in the market for ten thousand dinars for Ala Aldin. This is done, and a girl named Jessamine is purchased and given to him. He sets her at once free and marries her.
But at the time of the purchase another man had been bidding for this same girl, and, being much in love with her, his family determine to assist him in getting hold of her. A whole lot of fresh characters then appear on the scene, and, after much plotting and intrigue, Ala Aldin is arrested and sentenced to death. He, however, escapes to Alexandria, and there opens a shop. Further adventures follow, till he finds himself at Genoa, where he remains for some time as servant in a church. Meanwhile at Baghdad his wife Jessamine has borne him a son, named Asdan, who grows up, and in time discovers the author and nature of the theft of which his father had been accused, and thus prepares the way for his return to the city of the Khalifs. This is brought about by the Princess Husn Maryam at Genoa, with whom Ala Aldin finds his first wife Zobeidah, and they all set out on a wonderful couch and go first to Alexandria, then to Cairo to visit his parents, and finally to Baghdad, where he marries the princess and lives happy ever afterwards.
Ali the Persian and the Kurd Sharper is a very short story, but quite Rabelaisian in its humour, and the manner in which the Persian and the Kurd describe the contents of the small bag that had been lost. All sorts of things are mentioned in a haphazard way, many of them, however, perhaps, being required to fulfil the exigencies of the rhymed prose in which the story is written in the original Arabic.
The Man of Al-Yaman and his six Slave-Girls.—The six girls in this story have all different qualities. One is white, another brown, the third fat, the fourth lean, the fifth yellow, and the sixth black. The happy owner gets them together, and in verse and recitation each praises her own peculiarity, and abuses that of her opposite by examples and quotations. There is an Oriental twang about the story which makes it worthy of notice, and some of the verses are not bad.
Abu Al-Husn and his slave-girl Tawaddud.—This story is not amusing, but it is very interesting, especially to persons studying the minute details of the Muhammadan faith, doctrine and practice, according to the Shafai school, and the exegesis of the Koran, all of which are wonderfully expounded by the slave-girl. In the shape of questions and answers an enormous amount of information of all sorts is put into the mouth of this highly accomplished female. The writer deals not only with theology, but also with physiology in all its branches, or, at least, with as many as were known at the period of the tale. Further, medicine, astronomy, philosophy, and all kinds of knowledge are discussed. A series of conundrums are put to the girl and replied to by her, and she also displays her skill in chess, draughts, backgammon, and music.
It is to be regretted that the exact date of this species of Mangnall's Questions and Answers cannot be ascertained, for this would enable us to appreciate better the amount of knowledge displayed on the various subjects under discussion. Anyhow, it is certain that it must have been written some time after the doctrines of the Imam Shafai (he died A.D. 820) had been well-defined and established. Owing to certain medical and surgical queries and replies, it is to be presumed that the whole must have been worked up after the Arab school of medicine and physiology had arrived at their highest stage of perfection. The whole story is a good specimen of the state of civilization reached by the Arabs, and as such is worth a reference.
Three other stories in the 'Nights' bear some affinity to the above, but they are much more limited, both as regards the subject they deal with and the information they supply. One is 'King Jali'ad and his vizier Shimas,' in Payne's eighth and Burton's ninth volume; another, 'History of Al-Hajjaj bin Yusuf and the young Sayyid,' in Burton's fifth supplemental; and the third, 'The Duenna and the King's Son,' in his sixth supplemental.
The Rogueries of Dalilah the Crafty, and her daughter, Zeynab the Trickstress.—The tricks played by Dalilah the Crafty on all sorts of people in this story are of a nature that would make the tale amusing to the Arabs generally, and to the frequenters of coffee-houses particularly. Dalilah's father and husband had held lucrative appointments under the Khalifs of Baghdad, and, with a view to obtain something for herself and her daughter Zeynab, these two women determined to bring themselves to notice by playing tricks, and doing things which were likely to be talked of in the great city. In Europe at the present time the same method is often followed. Attempted assassinations, attempted suicides, complaints in the police-courts and cases in the law-courts are sometimes meant simply as an advertisement.[7] Anyhow, Dalilah's tricks played on various people are certainly amusing, and as they run ingeniously one into the other, it is somewhat difficult to describe them in a few words. The tale, to be appreciated, must be read through. Sufficient to add that Dalilah and Zeynab both eventually obtain what they wish, and the various things taken from the different parties are duly returned to them.
[Footnote 7: As an example take the following extract from theDaily Telegraphof 16th July, 1889:
'The sisters Macdonald have been giving a great deal more trouble to the police lately than even the bearers of so historic a name are entitled to give. Ethel Macdonald appeared at Marlborough Street charged with having wilfully smashed a window at the Junior Carlton Club, St. James's Square. It was stated that the aggressive Ethel was one of the daughters of an ex-superintendent of county constabulary deceased, and that his daughters, being left unprovided for, had taken to going on the "rampage." One of the sisters alleges that she has been wronged by "a rich man," and a short time since another Miss Macdonald, on being arraigned before Mr. Newton, flung a bottle at the head of that learned magistrate. Ethel was discharged, but it was ordered that she should be sent to the workhouse for inquiries to be made into her state of mind.']
The Adventures of Quicksilver Ali of Cairo.—This story is of the same nature as the preceding one, and in all the editions of the 'Nights' the one always follows the other, while in the Breslau text the two stories run together. Ali begins life at Cairo, and ends at Baghdad, where his tricks and adventures follow each other in rapid succession, his object being to obtain in marriage the hand of Zeynab, the daughter of Dalilah the Crafty. He is first tricked himself by Zeynab, but continues his pursuit of her, and though at times he is transformed into the shapes of an ass, a bear, and a dog by the magic arts of Azariah the Jew, eventually he succeeds, with the aid of the Jew's daughter, in obtaining the property required, and finally marries Zeynab, the Jewess, and two other women.
Hasan of Busra and the King's Daughter of the Jinn.—This is a good specimen of a real Oriental romance, with the wonderful and marvellous adventures of the hero interlaced with magic, alchemy, the Jinns, and other fabulous varieties, so that the highest ideals of the imagination are almost arrived at.
Bahram the Magician, who first beguiles Hasan with alchemy and then carries him off and endeavours to destroy him, is himself destroyed in the early part of the story. The kindness of the seven princesses to Hasan during his stay with them, and his visits to them later on, are described at length, as also is the way in which the hero falls desperately in love with the king's daughter of the Jinn, and secures her as his bride. The happy pair start for Busra, and rejoin his mother, and then settle down in Baghdad, where two sons are born and happiness reigns supreme. But during Hasan's absence on a visit to his former friends the seven princesses, some domestic scenes between his wife, his mother, and Zobeidah, the spouse of the Khalif Harun-ar-Rashid, are introduced, which end by the wife re-possessing herself of her original feather garment, and flying off with her two children to the islands of Wac, where her father and family resided.
On his return Hasan is broken-hearted to find her gone, and determines to set out and try and recover her. Then follows the description of his journeys, which fill pages describing the white country, and the black mountain, the land of camphor, and the castle of crystal. The islands of Wac were seven in number, peopled by Satans and Marids, and warlocks and tribesmen of the Jinn. To reach them Hasan has to traverse the island of birds, the land of beasts, and the valley of Jinn. Without the aid of the princesses, their uncle Abdul-cuddous, Abourruweish, Dehnesh ben Fectesh, Hassoun, king of the land of Camphor, and the old woman Shawahi, he never would have reached his destination. This, however, he finally does, and with the aid of a magic cup and wand recovers his wife and children, and returns with them to Baghdad, where they live happily ever afterwards, till there came to them the Creditor whose debt must always be paid sooner or later, the Destroyer of delights, and the Severer of societies.
Ali Nur Al-din and Miriam the Girdle-Girl (called by Payne, the Frank King's Daughter).—The adventures of Ali with Miriam, whom he first buys as a slave-girl in Alexandria, and from whom he is separated and re-united, again separated and again united, are told at some length. But the principal features in this tale are the innumerable verses in praise of various fruits, flowers, wine, women, musical instruments, the beauty of the hero, etc., and on the subjects of love, union, separation, etc. Miriam herself is a charming character of self-reliance and independence. On her first appearance in the slave market, at the time of her sale, she declines to be purchased by the old men, and abuses their age and their infirmities. Indeed, she seemed to be of the same opinion as our great national poet, who wrote:
'Crabbed age and youthCannot live together;Youth is full of plaisance,Age is full of care;Youth like summer morn,Age like winter weather;Youth like summer brave,Age like winter bare.Youth is full of sport,Age's breath is short,Youth is nimble, age is lame;Youth is hot and bold,Age is weak and cold,Youth is wild and age is tame.Age, I do abhor thee;Youth, I do adore thee;O my love, my love is young;Age, I do defy thee,O sweet shepherd, hie thee,For methinks thou stay'st too long'.
However, she finally consents to be bought by the young and good-looking Ali, who spends his last thousand dinars in her purchase, and then has nothing to live upon. Miriam remedies this by making every night a beautiful girdle, which Ali sells for a good price in the bazaar next day. This goes on for upwards of a year, when the first separation is brought about by the crafty old Wazir of her father, the King of France, who had sent him especially to look for his daughter. In the course of the adventures that follow, Miriam shows her capacity in sailing ships and in killing various men, among others her three brothers, who pursued her in her last flight from her father's city. Eventually she and Ali get to Baghdad, where the Khalif makes things smooth for them, and they are married, and finally return to Cairo to rejoin Ali's parents, from whom he had run away in his youth.
Kamar Al-Zaman and the Jeweller's Wife is one of the modern tales of the 'Nights,' and a very good one, containing a good plot and plenty of interesting incidents. The jeweller's wife, Halimah by name, is one of the wickedest and craftiest of women in Busra, and her plots and intrigues are well described; some of them are to be found in Persian story-books. After playing all sorts of tricks, she leaves her husband, and elopes with the youth Kamar to Cairo, where his parents reside. There his father will not let him marry her, but confines her and her slave-girl in a room, and arranges a marriage for his son with another woman. After a time Halimah's husband, Obayd, the jeweller, turns up in Cairo in the most beggarly plight, having been plundered by Bedouinsen route. After explanations, Obayd ends by killing his wife and her slave-girl, who had assisted her in all her devilries, and Kanar's father marries him to his daughter, who turns out the most virtuous of women. The moral of the tale is pointed out at the end, that there are both bad women and good women in the world, and is closed with the remark: 'So he who deemeth all women to be alike, there is no remedy for the disease of his insanity.'
Ma'aruf the Cobbler and his wife Fatimah commences with a domestic scene between the two, from which it appears that the poor husband had been shamefully sat upon from the day of his marriage, and that his wife was a dreadful woman. Affairs, however, at last reach a climax, and Ma'aruf seeks peace and safety in flight. Balzac, in his clever novel of 'Le Contrat de Mariage,' makes his hero Manerville fly from the machinations of his wife and mother-in-law, but Henri de Marsay, writing to his friend pages on the subject, contends that he is wrong, and points out to him the course that he should have followed. Anyhow, in Ma'aruf the Cobbler's case, the result is satisfactory. Arriving by the aid of a Jinn at a far-away city, he found a friend, who directed him how to behave, and to tell everybody that he was a great and wealthy merchant, but that his merchandise was still on the way, and expected daily. Pending the arrival of his baggage-train, Ma'aruf borrowed from everybody, gave it all away in largesse to the poor, and behaved generally as if he were very well-to-do. By these means he made such an impression on the King of the place that the latter married him to his daughter, and made large advances from the treasury in anticipation of the arrival of the merchandise.
Time goes on, but still the baggage does not turn up. The King, instigated by his Wazir, becomes suspicious, and persuades his daughter to worm out the real story from her husband. This she does in a clever way, and Ma'aruf tells her his true history. The woman behaves admirably, refuses to expose his vagaries, and, giving him fifty thousand dinars, advises him to fly to a foreign country, to begin to trade there, and to keep her informed of his whereabouts and the turn of his fortunes. The Cobbler departs during the night, while his wife the next morning tells the King and the Wazir a long rigmarole story of how her husband had been summoned by his servants, who had informed him that his baggage-train and merchandise had been attacked by the Arabs, and that he had gone himself to look after his affairs.
Meanwhile Ma'aruf departs sore at heart, weeping bitterly, and, like all 'Arabian Nights' heroes in adversity, repeating countless verses. After various adventures he falls in with a vast treasure, and a casket containing a seal ring of gold, which, when rubbed, causes the slave of the seal ring, naturally a Jinn, to appear and carry out every wish and order that Ma'aruf might give him. With the aid, then, of the Jinn, Abu Al-Saddat by name, the Cobbler returns to his wife laden with treasure and merchandise, and thus proves to all the doubters that he is a true man. He pays all his debts, gives a great deal to the poor, and bestows presents of an enormous value on his wife, her attendants, and all the people of the Court.
As a matter of course, all this prosperity is followed by adversity. The King and his Wazir combine together, and ask Ma'aruf to a garden-party, make him drunk, and get him to relate the story of his success. Recklessly he shows the ring to the Wazir, who gets hold of it, rubs it, and on the appearance of the slave of the ring, orders him to carry off the Cobbler and cast him down in the desert. The Wazir then orders the King to be treated in the same way, while he himself seizes the Sultanate, and aspires to marry Ma'aruf's wife, the King's daughter.
With much interesting detail the story relates how the Princess Dunya gets the ring into her possession, sends the Wazir to prison, and rescues her father and her husband from the desert. The Wazir is then put to death, and the ring is kept by the lady, as she thinks it would be safer in her keeping than in that of her relations. After this a son is born, the King dies, Ma'aruf succeeds to the throne, and shortly after loses his wife, who before her death gives him back the ring, and urges him to take good care of it for his own sake and for the sake of his boy.
Time goes on, and the Cobbler's first wife, Fatimah, turns up in town, brought there also by a Jinn, and tells the story of the want and suffering she had undergone since his departure from Cairo. Ma'aruf treats her generously, and sets her up in a palace with a separate establishment, but the wickedness of the woman reappears, and she tries to get hold of the ring for her own purposes. Just as she has secured it she is cut down and killed on the spot by Ma'aruf's son, who had been watching her proceedings, and is thus finally disposed of. The King and his son then marry, and live happily in the manner of Eastern story, all the other characters being properly provided for.
So much for the 'Nights' proper. Other stories translated from the Breslau text (a Tunisian manuscript acquired, collated and translated by Professor Habicht, of Breslau, Von der Hagen, and another; 15 volumes, 12mo., Breslau, 1825), the Calcutta fragment of 1814-1818, and other sources, have been given by Payne in three extra volumes entitled 'Tales from the Arabic,' and by Burton in two of his six volumes of the 'Supplemental Nights.' Payne's three books and Burton's two first volumes follow the same lines. They both contain twenty principal, and sixty-four subordinate stories, or eighty-four altogether, divided into nine short stories and seventy-five longer ones. Some of them are very interesting, and some are amusing, especially a few of the sixteen Constables' Stories, which describe the cleverness of women, and the adroitness of thieves, and people of that class. It is probable that these are more or less of a modern date.
The first story in this collection, called 'The Sleeper and the Waker,' commonly known as 'The Sleeper Awakened,' is good, and also particularly interesting as one of Galland's stories not traced at the time, but afterwards turning up in the Tunis text of the 'Nights.'
The third volume of Burton's 'Supplemental Nights' is one of the most interesting of the whole lot. It contains eight principal and four subordinate stories of Galland's 'Contes Arabes,' which are not included in the Calcutta, Boulak, or Breslau editions of the 'Nights.' For many years the sources from which Galland procured these tales were unknown. Some said that he invented them himself. Others conjectured that he got them from the story-tellers in Constantinople and other places in the East. But in A.D. 1886 Mr. H. Zotenberg, the keeper of Eastern Manuscripts in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, obtained a manuscript copy of the "Nights," which contained the Arabic originals of the stories of "Zayn Al Asnam," and of "Aladdin," two of Galland's best stories. This was a very valuable acquisition, for it sets at rest the doubts that had always been expressed about the origin of these two tales, and also leads to the supposition that the Arabic originals of the other stories will also turn up some day.
Of these eight principal and four subordinate stories of Galland, those of "Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp," and of "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves," have ever been most popular tales, and have been appreciated by many generations from the time that Galland first introduced them to Europe. But some of the other stories are equally good, and all are worth reading, as Burton has not only taken Galland as a guide, but has also adapted his own translation from the Hindustani version of the Gallandian tales, prepared by one Totárám Shayán, whose texts of the "Nights," along with those of others, are fully discussed. By this method Burton endeavoured to preserve the Oriental flavour of the work itself, without introducing too much French sauce.
After the discovery of the Arabic original of the stories of "Zayn Al-Asnam" and "Aladdin," Payne recognized its importance, and published his translation of these two tales in a separate volume in 1889, which forms a sort of appendix to his previously issued twelve volumes. This thirteenth book contains also an interesting introduction, giving arésuméof Mr. Zotenberg's work, published at Paris in 1888, and which contains the Arab text of the story of Aladdin, along with an exhaustive notice of certain manuscripts of the "Thousand and One Nights," and of Galland's translation.
The fourth and fifth volumes of Burton's "Supplemental Nights" contain certain new stories from an Arabic manuscript of the "Nights" in seven volumes, brought to Europe by Edward Wortley Montague, Esq., and bought at the sale of his library by Dr. Joseph White, Professor of Hebrew and Arabic at Oxford, from whom it passed into the hands of Dr. Jonathan Scott, who sold it to the Bodleian Library, at Oxford, for fifty pounds.
Wortley Montague's manuscript contains many additional tales not included in the Calcutta, Boulak, or Breslau editions, and these additional stories Burton has now translated. It is uncertain how or where Wortley Montague obtained his copy of the 'Thousand and One Nights.' Dr. White had at one time intended to translate the whole lot, but this was never accomplished. Jonathan Scott did, however, translate some of the stories, which were published in the sixth volume of his 'Arabian Nights Entertainment' in A.D. 1811, but the work was badly and incompletely done. It has now been thoroughly revised and put into better form by Burton in these two volumes.
In Appendix I. to Volume V. there is a catalogue of the contents of the Wortley Montague MS., which is very interesting, as it contains not only a description of the manuscript itself, but also a complete list of the tales making up the "Thousand and One Nights," many of which are, of course, to be found in the "Nights" proper.
These two supplemental volumes contain 25 principal and 31 subordinate stories, or 56 in all. Some of them are very amusing, especially the tales of the Larrikins, while the whole add to our knowledge of this vast répertoire of tales from the East, which has been gradually brought to the notice of Europe during the last one hundred and eighty-five years.
Burton's sixth supplemental volume contains certain stories taken from a book of Arabian tales, a continuation of the 'Arabian Nights Entertainment,' brought out by Dom Chavis, a Syrian priest, and eventually teacher of Arabic at the University of Paris, and Mr. Jacques Cazotte, a well-known Frenchlittérateur,unfortunately and unjustly guillotined in Paris on the 25th September, 1792, at the time of the Revolution.
This work, sometimes called 'The New Arabian Nights,' is an imitation of Galland's marvellous production, and may be considered a sort of continuation of it. Dom Chavis brought the manuscripts to France, and agreed with Mr. Cazotte to collaborate, the former translating the Arabic into French, and the latter metamorphosing the manner and matter to the style and taste of the day. The work first appeared in 1788-89, and was translated into English in 1792.
Burton, in his Foreword to this volume, gives a full account of these stories, as translated and edited by Chavis and Cazotte. He himself gives a translation of eight of them, one of which, The Linguist, the Duenna, and the King's Son, is interesting, as it contains a series of conundrums, questions and answers, which may remind the reader of the story of Abu Al-Husn and his slave-girl Tawaddud, in the 'Nights' proper, and of the history of Al-Hajjaj bin Yusuf and the young Sayyid, from the Wortley Montague MS. In addition to the eight translated stories, the sixth volume contains a great deal of matter in the shape of appendices, such as—Notes on Zotenberg's work on Aladdin and on various manuscripts of the 'Nights'; Biography of the work and its Reviewers Reviewed; Opinions of the Press, etc.; but though well worthy of perusal by the curious, space does not allow of further allusions to them here.
To sum up, then, shortly, Payne's thirteen volumes contain 193 principal, and 159 subordinate stories, or 352 in all, while Burton's sixteen volumes contain 231 principal, and 195 subordinate stories, or 426 altogether. These numerous stories, translated from the Calcutta (1814-18), Calcutta Macnaghten (1839-42), Boulak (Cairo, 1835-36), Breslau (Tunis), Wortley Montague, Galland and Chavis texts may be considered to form what is commonly called 'The Arabian Nights Entertainment.' They date from A.D. 750, which may be considered as the year of their commencement and that of the Abbaside dynasty, and go on, continually added to, up to A.D. 1600, or even later. Many authors have had a hand in the work, the stories themselves having been derived from Indian, Persian, Arabian, Egyptian, Syrian and Grecian sources, and adapted, more or less, for Arab readers and hearers. And as the manuscripts in some of these stories in different countries do not in any way tally, it must be supposed that no such work as an original copy of the 'Thousand and One Nights' has ever been in existence. The repertoire, consisting of a few stories at first, has gradually grown to such a size that now it may almost be considered to contain the largest and best collection of stories that the world has, as yet seen.
Mention has been already made in a previous page of the 'Kathá Sarit Ságara,' or Ocean of the Streams of Story, and a brief description of this work was given in the third chapter of 'Early Ideas' (A.D. 1881). Since then a complete translation of the 'Kathá' has been made by Professor C.H. Tawney, of the Calcutta College, and it has been published in fourteen fasciculi, in the 'Bibliotheca Indica,' by the Asiatic Society of Bengal, 1880-1887. It is to be regretted, for the sake of the student and the anthropologist, that the translation is presented in an expurgated form. Still, the Professor has done his work (and a long and tedious work it must have been) excessively well, while many of his notes, corrigenda and addenda are most interesting.
The 'Arabian Nights' and the 'Kathá Sarit Ságara' occupy respectively the same position in Arabic and Hindoo literature. They are both collections of tales adapted to the people of the country for which they have been written. A perusal of both the works will show how much they differ. The characters and ideas of the heroes and heroines, their thoughts, reflections, speeches, surroundings, and situations are worth studying in the two books as an exposition of the manners and customs, ideas and habits of two distinct peoples. The Hindoo characters, as depicted in their story-book, will be found to be duller, heavier, more reverential, and more superstitious than the characters in the 'Nights.' There are two things, however, common to the two books: the power of destiny, and the power of love, against which it is apparently useless to struggle.
While there are 426 stories in Burton's 'Nights,' there are 330 tales of sorts in Tawney's 'Kathá.' Both works are rather formidable as regards size and quantity of matter; still, after a start has been fairly made, the interest goes on increasing in a wonderful way, until at last one becomes absorbed and interested to a degree that can scarcely be imagined.
The stories in the 'Kathá Sarit Ságara' are supposed to have been originally composed by one Gunádhya, in the Paisacha language, and made known in Sanscrit under the title of 'Vrihat Kathá,' or Great Tale. From this work one Bhatta Somadeva, in the eleventh century A.D., prepared the work now known as the 'Kathá Sarit Ságara,' but probably stories have been added to it since. At present it consists of eighteen books, divided into one hundred and twenty-four chapters, and containing three hundred and thirty stories, along with other matter. Of Gunádhya, the supposed original author, not much is known, but Vatsyayana, in his 'Kama Sutra' (printed privately for the Kama Shastra Society) mentions the name of Gunádhya as a writer whose works he had consulted, and gives frequent quotations from them in his chapter on the duties of a wife. The exact date of Vatsyayana's life is also uncertain; some time not earlier than the first century B.C., and not later than the sixth century A.D., is considered to be the approximate period of his existence.
Like the 'Arabian Nights,' it is highly probable that the 'Kathá' grew by degrees to its present size. Gunádhya's original work is apparently not now extant. Between the time it was written and the time that Somadeva produced his edition of it, many stories may have been added, and the same process may have continued afterwards. Somadeva, however, says: 'I compose this collection, which contains the pith of the "Vrihat Kathá."' Again he writes: 'This book is precisely on the model of that from which it is taken; there is not the slightest deviation; only such language is selected as tends to abridge the prolixity of the work; the observance of propriety and natural connection, and the joining together of the portions of the poem so as not to interfere with the spirit of the stories, are as far as possible kept in view. I have not made this attempt through desire of a reputation for ingenuity, but in order to facilitate the recollection of a multitude of various tales.'
The 'Kathá Sarit Ságara' contains many stories now existing in the 'Pancha Tantra,' or Five Chapters, in the 'Hitopodesa,' or Friendly Advice, in the 'Baital Pachesi,' or Twenty-five Stories of a Demon, and other Indian story-books. Owing to the total absence of dates it is difficult to determine from what sources all these stories were collected. But as some of the same fables and animal stories are to be found in the 'Buddhist Birth Stories,' or Játaka Tales, in the 'Arabian Nights,' and in the 'Kathá,' it may fairly be conjectured that stories of this nature were in early years in considerable circulation, and used as a means of conveying wisdom and advice both to the classes and to the masses in those prehistoric times.
To return to Arab story-books. Mention must be made of 'Antar,' a Bedouin romance, which has been partially translated from the Arabic into English by Terrick Hamilton, Secretary to the British Embassy at Constantinople, and published in London (1820). Mr. Clouston, in his 'Arabian Poetry for English Readers,' Glasgow, 1881, has given an abstract of the story, with some specimens of translations from the original.
The work itself is generally supposed to have been written by Al-Asmai, the philologist and grammarian (born A.D. 740, died A.D. 831), who flourished at the court of Harun-ar-Rashid, and was a great celebrity in his time. It is probable that many of the stories told about Antar and his wonderful deeds came down orally and traditionally to Al-Asmai, who embellished them with his own imagination, aided by a wonderful knowledge of the language and idioms used by the Arabs in their desert wilds.
Antar is the hero, and Abla the heroine, of the romance. Antar himself is supposed to have lived during the sixth century A.D., and to have been the author of one of the seven famous poems suspended at Mecca, and known as the Mua'llakat. Besides this he was distinguished as a great warrior, whose deeds of daring were quite marvellous. The translator had intended to divide the work into three parts. The first ends with the marriage of Antar and Abla, to attain which many difficulties had to be overcome. The second part includes the period when Antar suspends his poem at Mecca, also a work of considerable difficulty. The third part gives the hero's travels, conquests, and death. Mr. Hamilton only translated and published the first part of the three, and the two others have not yet been done into English.
The romance of Antar, though tedious, is interesting, as it gives full details of the life of the Arabs before Muhammad's time, and even after, for the Arab life of to-day is apparently much the same as it was three thousand years ago. It appears to be an existence made up of continual wanderings, constant feud and faction, and perpetual struggles for food, independence and plunder. But in the deserts on the frontiers of Syria, Palestine, Mesopotamia and Baghdad, it is said that the various tribes are now kept much more in subjection by the Turks, owing to the introduction of the breech-loader, against which the Arab and his matchlock and his peculiar mode of warfare is somewhat powerless.
While the 'Arabian Nights' are supposed to treat more of the inhabitants of the towns, the romance of Antar deals more with the inhabitants of the desert. To the student of the Arabic language both works are interesting, as they occupy a prominent and standard place in Arabian literature, and afford much information about the manners and customs, ideas and peculiarities of an ancient and interesting race of people. It must be admitted that both Antar and the 'Arabian Nights' are so long that they rather try the patience of readers not particularly interested in them. Nowadays in England the daily press supplies such a mass of information of all sorts in connection with every branch of society, that a constant and persistent reader of our daily and weekly newspapers can find in them quite an 'Arabian Nights Entertainment' without going further afield. Indeed, the stories concerning the cures effected by certain patent medicines are as wonderful as anything one ever reads in the 'Nights' themselves.
And in addition to the realities and actualities of life, as daily told in our newspapers and law reports, many of which do certainly prove that fact is stranger than fiction, there are numerous writers who keep the public supplied with tales and stories of every kind and description. And from the great demand for such productions, whether issued as the penny dreadful, the thrilling story, or the regulation romance in three volumes, one conclusion can only be drawn, which is—that the human mind, everywhere in the East, West, North and South, is always anxious to be fed or amused with something startling or romantic, dreadful or improbable, exciting or depressing.
It is to be presumed, then, that the 'Nights' filled the vacuum in the minds of the people of that day in the East, much the same as the books and newspapers of our time satisfy the cravings of the humanities of the West, who still seem to be ever in search of something new, even if not true; something original, even if not trustworthy. Human nature appears to be much the same in all ages and at all times, and the scandals connected with high persons, the memoirs and reminiscences of celebrated ones, and the good sayings of witty ones, have always found much favour with the public generally, whether told as stories, published as books, or printed in the papers. Arabic literature abounds with biographical details and stories about celebrated and distinguished men. It was always the custom and fashion to fill their works with much information of the kind. The same fashion appears to exist in England at the present time, with this advantage, however, that we now get all the details and stories direct from the heroes themselves, and during their lifetime.
In Persian literature there are three celebrated works (Sa'di's 'Gulistan,' or Rose Garden, A.D. 1258; Jawini's 'Negaristan,' or Portrait Gallery, A.D. 1334; and Jami's 'Beharistan,' or Abode of Spring, A.D. 1487, all translated by the Kama Shastra Society), containing an entertaining collection of stories, verses, and moral maxims. In Arabic literature there are many books of the same sort, and in this chapter it is proposed to give a few specimens of stories and philosophic reflections culled from various authors. This will perhaps be more interesting than a lengthened analysis of the works themselves.
The following anecdotes have been taken from the 'Naphut-ul-Yaman' (Breeze or Breath of Yaman), a collection of stories and poetical extracts of various Arabic authors, edited by Ahmad-ash-Shirwani.
Al-Jahiz said: 'I never was put so much to shame as when a woman met me on the road and said, "I have some business with you," and I followed her till we reached the shop of a goldsmith, when she said, "Like this man," and walked away. I stood amazed, and asked the goldsmith to explain the matter. He replied: "This woman wanted me to make her a figure of Satan, and I told her that I did not know his physiognomy; whereon she brought you!"'
A voracious man paid a visit to a hermit, who brought him four loaves, and then went to fetch a dish of beans; but when he had come with it, he found that his guest had consumed the bread. Accordingly he departed to bring some more bread, but when he returned with it he saw that the man had devoured the beans. This proceeding was repeated ten times, whereon the host asked his guest to what place he was travelling. He replied, 'To Rei.' 'Wherefore?' 'I heard of a celebrated physician in that town, and I mean to consult him about my stomach, because I have but little appetite for eating.' 'I have a request to make of you.' 'What is it?' 'When you return, after having recovered your appetite, please do not pay me a visit again.'
One day the poet Abu Nuwas made his appearance at the gate of the palace of Rashid, who, as soon as he was informed of this, called for eggs, and said to his courtiers: 'Here is Abu Nuwas at the door. Now let each of you take an egg and place it under his body, and when he enters I shall feign to be angry with all of you, and shall exclaim: "Now lay eggs each of you, and if you do not I shall order you all to be beheaded," and we shall see how he will behave.' Then the poet was admitted, and the conversation continued. After a while, however, the Khalif became angry, and manifested his displeasure by exclaiming: 'You are all like hens, and meddle with things that do concern you; now lay eggs each of you, for that is your nature, or I shall order your heads to be struck off.' Then he looked at the courtier on his right, saying: 'You are the first; now lay an egg.' Accordingly he made great efforts, and contorting his features, at last drew forth an egg. Then the Khalif addressed the others successively in the same manner, and when the turn of Abu Nuwas came, he struck his sides with his hands, and crowing like a cock, said: 'My lord, hens are useless without a cock. These are hens, and I am their cock.' Hereon the Khalif burst out laughing, and approved of his excuse.
A certain king was much addicted to women, and one of his viziers warned him of the danger. Shortly afterwards some of his concubines observed that his behaviour towards them had changed, and one of them said: 'My lord, what is this?' He replied: 'One of my viziers (mentioning his name) advised me not to love you.' 'Then,' said the girl, 'present me to him, O king, and do not reveal what I shall do to him.' Accordingly he gave the girl away, and when the vizier was alone with her, she made herself so amiable that he fell in love with her, but she refused to grant him any favour except on condition of allowing her first to ride on his back. He agreed. Accordingly she bridled and saddled him, but meanwhile sent word to the king what was taking place; and when he arrived he saw the vizier in the position alluded to, and said: 'You warned me of the love of woman, and this is the state I see you in.' The vizier replied: 'O king! this is just what I warned you of!'
Once a lion, a fox, and a wolf were associates in the chase, and after they had killed an ass, a gazelle, and a hare, the lion said to the wolf: 'Divide the prey among us;' whereon the latter said: 'The ass will be yours, the hare the fox's, and the gazelle mine;' and the lion knocked his eye out. Then the fox said: 'A curse on him, what a silly division he proposed!' Accordingly the lion said: 'Then do you make the division, O possessor of the brush!' And the fox said: 'The ass will be for your dinner, the gazelle for your supper, and the hare for your luncheon.' The lion said: 'You rogue! who taught you to make such a just distribution?' and Reynard answered, 'The eye of the wolf.'
A certain king asked his vizier whether habit can vanquish nature, or nature habit? The vizier replied: 'Nature is stronger, because it is a root, and habit a branch, and every branch returns to its root.' Now the king called for wine, and a number of cats made their appearance with candles in their paws, and stood around him; then he said to the vizier: 'Do you perceive your mistake in saying that nature is stronger than habit?' The vizier replied: 'Give me time till this evening.' The king continued: 'You shall have it.' Accordingly the vizier appeared in the evening with a mouse in his sleeve, and when the cats were standing with their candles, he allowed it to slip out, whereon all the cats threw down the candles and ran after it, so that the house was nearly set on fire. Then the vizier said: 'Behold, O king, how nature overcomes habit, and how the branch returns to the root.'
The 'Merzubán námah,' translated from the Persian into Arabic, is said to be of very ancient origin, and to embody good maxims in fables. It was composed, or is supposed to have been composed, by one of the old princes of Persia called Merzuban, a brother of the King Nausherwan the Just, who died A.D. 578. On referring to the great encyclopædical and bibliographical dictionary, edited by Fluegel, it will be found, under No. 11,783, that Haji Khalfa mentions this book, giving, however, its title only, without mentioning the time of its composition, nor the author of it, nor the language in which it had been written. The following are some extracts from this work, and the stories resemble others that have come from the Farther East.
The philosopher Merzubán said: 'I am informed that in a certain district of Aderbaijan there is a mountain as high as the sky, with fine brooks, trees, fruits and herbs. Under the shelter of one of the most beautiful trees a pair of partridges lived most happily, but in the vicinity there was likewise a powerful eagle with his brood, who periodically visited the abode of the partridges and devoured their young ones. When the pair had thus several times lost their progeny, the male proposed that it would either be necessary for them to emigrate to some other locality, or to try some expedient by which they might escape from the rapacity of the eagle. He was of opinion that even in case of failure they might gain some valuable experience that would be of use in future attempts to elude the persecution, and said: "We must at all events make a trial, and may learn something from it, like the donkey who endeavoured to become the companion of the camel." The she-partridge asked, "How was that?" and the male continued:
'"Once a donkey tried to keep up walking with a big camel, who paced lustily, and took long steps, but the ass, being in a hurry, stumbled every moment, and found that he had undertaken an impossible task. He asked the camel, 'How is it I wound my hoofs on the rocks so often, although I constantly look where I am stepping; whilst you, who apparently walk with leisure, never cast a glance at any of the obstacles you meet with, and never hurt yourself?' The camel replied: 'The reason is just because you are short-sighted and of weak intellect; you can look no further than your nose, and are, therefore, disappointed; whereas I look always forward, know the obstacles I am likely to encounter, scan the road to a great distance, and avoid the difficulties, selecting the easiest parts of the way.'" The wise hen said: "To be forewarned is to be forearmed, and this principle I follow." "I have narrated this story to show you that we must look forward, now that the time of laying eggs is at hand, because when our little ones are hatched it may again be too late to try and save them."
'The female partridge said: "This is all very well, but we might fare like the hungry fox who would have lost his life if the ichneumon had not interceded for him with the camel." The male said "How was that?" and the female continued:
'"It is related that a certain fox had a fine large den, in which he collected provisions for the winter and for the summer, fared sumptuously, and never suffered from want. Once, however, a large army of ants invaded his domicile, and made short work of all the victuals he had carefully stored. This misfortune befel him just at a time when the weather happened to be very cold and food scarce, so that he began to feel the pangs of hunger. One morning, however, when he was about to sally forth from his den, he perceived, to his no small astonishment, at the mouth of it a camel kneeling, with the hinder part of his body turned towards him. The fox said to himself, 'Here is good luck,' and made a foolhardy attempt to drag the animal into the cave by tying a rope to its tail, and to commence pulling at it with all his might. To make sure of his prey the fox had tied the other end of the rope to his own body, but when he began to jerk it rather strongly the camel became vexed, jumped up suddenly, and first discharging both urine and dung upon Reynard, began to shake himself violently. The fox dangled in the air, and was repeatedly knocked against the flanks of the gigantic animal. Then the fox repented of his silly attempt to feast on camel meat, and knew that his death-knell would shortly sound. Luckily an ichneumon happened to be standing close by, amazed at the strange spectacle, and the fox implored it to intercede for him. Accordingly, the ichneumon addressed the camel in the following strain: 'Friend giant! it is meet that the strong, hoping for an eternal reward, should have mercy upon the weak! Here is a poor stranger who has accidentally become entangled with your tail. He will be strangled; you may save his life and become his deliverer by letting him go.' The camel then released the fox, who would assuredly have lost his life if the ichneumon had not interceded for him." When the male partridge had heard this story he fully approved of the moral of it, which is to the effect that ignorant and weak individuals are generally foiled in their designs against those who are powerful. He therefore considered that it would be best to throw themselves upon the mercy of the eagle, and said: "We must pay a visit to his majesty the eagle, explain our case to him, implore his mercy, and enroll ourselves among the number of his servants. We may succeed by gaining his favour; he is the king of all the birds, and carnivorous, but for all we know his disposition may be so merciful that he will spare our offspring not only himself, but order all the other birds of prey, his subjects, to do likewise."
'Then the she-partridge exclaimed: "Your advice is indeed wonderful! You propose nothing less than that we should court our own perdition, and of our own accord run into a trap! The eagle in treacherous, and would deal with us like the heron dealt with the little fish." The male said, "Please narrate the occurrence," and the female continued:
'"A heron had taken up his abode, and had lived for a long time near a brook on the little fishes there. At last, however, he became so old and weak that he was scarcely able to provide his daily food. He was once standing in a melancholy attitude on the bank of the streamlet, waiting for a chance to satisfy his hunger, when he happened to catch sight of a beautiful little fish disporting itself in the water, and mourned over his inability to get hold of it. The little fish perceived the heron standing immovable, and apparently taking not the least notice of it; therefore it gradually ventured to approach him, and asked the cause of his melancholy. The heron replied, 'I am reflecting upon the time of my youth which has passed away, the life I enjoyed, the pleasures I felt, all of which are irretrievably lost, and have left behind nothing but repentance for my sins, a weak body, and tottering limbs. I can now only regret the depredations I have committed, and wash away with my tears the stains of my transgressions. How often have I given occasion, both to little fishes and to eels, to deplore the loss of members of their families, which I had greedily devoured; but I have now repented, and shall henceforth do so no more.' When the little fish had heard this wonderful confession it asked: 'What can I do for you?' The heron replied: 'I want you only to convey this declaration of mine, with my salutations, to all your acquaintances, with the information that they may henceforth live in perfect safety, and need not apprehend any depredations on my part. There must, however, be covenants and pledges of security between us.' The little fish asked: 'How can I trust you, since I am the food on which you subsist, and you cannot be inclined to dispense with that.' He said: 'Take this grass and tie it round my neck for a sign that I shall not injure you.' Accordingly, the little fish took hold of a blade of grass, which was to serve for the heron's collar, who then placed his beak near the surface of the water to receive it, but as soon as the little fish had come within reach, the heron gobbled it up, and this was the end of the promised pledge. My dear husband, I have narrated this occurrence only to show that we would, by trusting to any promises of magnanimity that the eagle might make to us, only court our own perdition."
'In spite of all her objections, however, the she-partridge agreed at last to accompany her husband to the court of the eagle. They started together, travelled for some time, arrived at his abode, and made their obeisance to a courtier whose name was Yuyu, whom the male partridge addressed as follows: "Most noble lord, we are denizens of an adjoining mountain, where we lived happily till his majesty the eagle crushed all our hopes by making his appearance on our mountain with his court of birds of prey, destroyed our young on several successive occasions, and reduced us to despair. I proposed to my wife to emigrate, and she at last consented, so that we have now arrived here and placed ourselves under the wings of your protection."' Yuyu was pleased with these words, and replied: "I bid you welcome, and approve of your sagacity which induced you to seek a refuge at the court of our most noble sovereign. I must, however, tell you that although his disposition is righteous, he feeds upon the meat of animals, but when the weak and helpless crave his mercy, or implore his aid, he seldom disappoints them; those, on the contrary, who oppose or endeavour to deceive him must be prepared to fall under his wrath. He is honest and veracious, because he lives in solitude, and keeps aloof from intercourse with mankind, because all agree that the society of men crushes out all good qualities, and is productive of misery. You may now arise, and seek an audience from his majesty, because the opportunity will not present itself often. When you enter and make your obeisance you must watch his humour, which will be excellent if he has been successful in the chase. Then you will behold him social and chatting with his courtiers, whilst the nightingale, the heron, and other birds are singing and dancing for his amusement, and you can then introduce the subject of your petition. But if you behold him sitting dumb, with bloodshot eyes, or in an angry mood, say nothing if you value your life, and in any case, if you should perceive that silence is best, do not venture to speak."
'After this advice the partridge flew with Yuyu up to a lofty peak of the mountain, and alighted in a beautiful garden, fragrant with the perfume of flowers, where the eagle was sitting with his court, which consisted of birds of every species. Then Yuyu presented himself before his majesty, and craved an audience for the partridge, which, having been granted, he was admitted and spoke as follows: "Praise be to Allah, who has healed our wound and restored us to life! We lived in trouble and distress, but the justice of your majesty's government is the theme of every tongue; all our apprehensions have vanished, and we hope for security under the wings of your protection, because it is said that a noble Sultan is to his subjects like a kind father to his children, and protects them against all evils."
'The king replied: "You are welcome in this region; here you may live in safety among the best of neighbours, and I grant you protection." Accordingly, the partridge returned to his spouse, whom he informed of the condescension of his majesty, whose service both accordingly entered, and whose favour they afterwards gained, so that they lived happily to the end of their days.'
The 'Merzubán námah' contains also several stories about Kesra Nausherwan the Just, and his minister Buzarjimehr, but they are not very interesting. The extracts given above sufficiently show the nature of this work, which puts into the mouths of animals how men and women ought to act under various circumstances, and it bears a strong resemblance in many ways to the 'Kalilah wa Dimnah.'
Two stories have been selected from the celebrated Arabic work entitled 'Al—Mustatraf,' or 'The Gleaner,' or 'The Collector.' The full title of this work is 'Al-Mustatraf min kell finn al-mustazraf,' which may be translated thus: 'Gleanings from every kind of Elegant (or Pleasing) Composition.' The similarity of the first and last word of the title is attributable to the fondness of the Arabs for alliterative or rhyming titles. As there are several meanings attached to the word Mustatraf in the dictionaries, it might also be interpreted as 'The Book of Pleasing Novelties.' It contains an anthology of anecdotes, stories, proverbs, and elegant extracts by Shaikh Muhammad Bin Ahmad Al-Bashihi. The work is mentioned by Fluegel in his edition of Haji Khalfa's great work.
Abbas, the chief of the police of the Khalif Mamun, said: 'One day I was present in an assembly of the Prince of the Faithful, before whom a man was standing heavily fettered with chains of iron. As soon as the Khalif perceived me he said: "Abbas, take good care of this man, and produce him again to-morrow." Accordingly I called for some of my people, and they carried him away, because he was so heavily shackled that he could scarcely move. Considering that I had been ordered to take every care of this prisoner, I concluded that I had better keep him in my own house, in a chamber of which I then confined him. I asked him what place he had come from, and on his replying that it was Damascus, I expressed my best wishes for the prosperity of that town, whereat he was astonished. I told him that I had been there, and asked him about a certain man; he said that he would like to know how I could be acquainted with him, and on my replying that I had had some business with him, he promised to satisfy my curiosity if I gave him first some information. Accordingly I made the following statement: