Saadi Shirazi

By Delphi Classics, 2019

Contents

The Life and Poetry of Saadi Shirazi

Brief Introduction: Saadi by Epiphanius Wilson

Bustan

Pand Namah

The Prose

Gulistan

The Biography

Introduction to Saadi by Arthur N. Wollaston

© Delphi Classics 2019

Version 1

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Saadi - Delphi Poets Series

First published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by Delphi Classics.

© Delphi Classics, 2019.

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ISBN: 978 1 78877 971 5

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The Life and Poetry of Saadi Shirazi

Shiraz, the fifth most populous city of Iran and the capital of the Fars Province. Saadi’s birthplace is one of the oldest cities of ancient Persia.

Imamzadeh Ali ebn e Hamze, Shiraz

Jean Struys’ drawing of Shiraz in c. 1681

Brief Introduction: Saadi by Epiphanius Wilson

THE PERSIAN POET Sa’di, generally known in literary history as Muslih-al-Din, belongs to the great group of writers known as the Shirazis, or singers of Shiraz. His “Gulistan,” or “Rose Garden,” is the mature work of his life-time, and he lived to the age of one hundred and eight. The Rose Garden was an actual thing, and was part of the little hermitage, to which he retired, after the vicissitudes and travels of his earlier life, to spend his days in religious contemplation, and the embodiment of his experience in reminiscences, which took the form of anecdotes, sage and pious reflections, bon-mots, and exquisite lyrics. When a friend visited him in his cell and had filled a basket with nosegays from the garden of the poet with roses, hyacinths, spikenards, and sweet-basils, Sa’di told him of the book he was writing, and added:— “What can a nosegay of flowers avail thee? Pluck but one leaf from my Rose Garden; the rose from yonder bush lasts but a few days, but this Rose must bloom to all eternity.”

Sa’di has been proved quite correct in this estimate of his own work. The book is indeed a sweet garden of unfading freshness. If we compare Sa’di with Hafiz, we find that both of them based their theory of life upon the same Sufic pantheism. Both of them were profoundly religious men. Like the strong and life-giving soil out of whose bosom sprang the rose-tree, wherein the nightingales sang, was the fixed religious confidence, which formed the support of each poet’s mind, amid all the vagaries of fancy, and the luxuriant growth of fruit and flower which their genius gave to the world. Hafiz is the Persian Anacreon. As he raises his voice of thrilling and unvarying sweetness, his steps reel, he waves the thyrsus, and his flushed cheek shows the inspiration of the vine. To him the Supreme Being has much in common with the Indian or Thracian Dionysus, the god of perennial youth, joyous revel, and exhilaration. Hafiz can never be the guide, though he may be the cheerer of mortals, adding more to the gayety than to the wisdom of life. But both in the western and in the eastern world Sa’di must always be looked upon as the guide and enlightener of those who taste life, and love poetry. It has been said by a wise man that poetry is the great instructor of mature minds. Many a man turning away in weariness from the controversies, the insincerities, and the pretentiousness of the intellectualists around him, has exclaimed, “Give me my Horace.” But Horace with all his bonhommie, his common sense, and his acuteness, is but the representative of a narrow Roman coterie of the Augustan age. How thin, flimsy, and unspiritual does he appear in comparison with the marvellous depth, the spiritual insight, the tenderness and power of expression which characterized Sa’di.

Sa’di had begun his life as a student of the Koran and became early imbued with the quietism of Islam. The cheerfulness and exuberant joy which characterize the poems he wrote before he reached his fortieth year, had bubbled up under the repressions of severe discipline and austerity. But the religion of Mohammed was soon exchanged by him, under the guidance of a famous teacher, for the wider and more transcendental system of Sufism. Within the area of this magnificent scheme, the boldest ever formulated under the name of religion, he found the liberty which his soul desired. Early discipline had made him a morally sound man, and it is the goodness of Sa’di that lends such a warm and endearing charm to his works. The last finish was given to his intellectual training by the travels which he took after the Tartar invasion desolated Persia, in the thirteenth century. India, Arabia, Syria, were in turn visited. He found Damascus a congenial halting-place, and lived there for some time, with an increasing reputation as a sage and poet. He preached at Baalbec on the fugitiveness of human life, on faith, love, and rest in God. He wandered, like Jerome, in the wilderness about Jerusalem, and worked as a slave in Africa in the trenches of Tripoli: he travelled the length and breadth of Asia Minor. When he arrived back at Shiraz, he had passed the limit of three-score years and ten, and there he remained in his hermitage and his garden, to arrange the result of all his studies, his experiences, and his sufferings, in that consummate work which he has named the “Rose Garden,” after the little cultivated plot in which he spent his declining days and drew his last breath.

The “Gulistan” is divided into eight chapters, each dealing with a specific subject and partaking of the nature of an essay: although these chapters are composed of disjointed paragraphs, generally beginning with an aphorism or an anecdote and closing with an original poem of a few lines. Sometimes these paragraphs are altogether lyrical. We are struck, first of all, by the personal character of these paragraphs; many of them relate the experience of the poet in some part of his travels, expressing his comment upon what he had seen and heard. His comments generally take the form of practical wisdom, or religious suggestion. He gives us the impression that he knows life and the human heart thoroughly. It may be said of him, as Arnold said of Sophocles, he was one “who saw life steadily, and saw it whole.” On the other hand, there is not the slightest trace of cynical acerbity in his writings. He has passed through the world in the independence of a self-possessed soul, and has found it all good, saving for the folly of fools and the wretchedness and degradation of the depraved. There is no bitter fountain in the “Rose Garden,” and the old man’s heart is as fresh as when he left Shiraz, thirty years before; the sprightliness of his poetry has only been ripened and tempered to a more exquisite flavor, by the increase of wisdom and the perfecting of art.

Above all, we find in Sa’di the science of life, as comprising morality and religion, set forth in a most suggestive and a most attractive form. In some way or other the “Rose Garden” may remind us of the “Essays” of Bacon, which were published in their complete form the year before the great English philosopher died. Both works cover a large area of thought and experience; but the Englishman is clear, cold, and sometimes cynical, while the Persian is more spiritual, though not less acute, and has the fervor of the poet which Bacon lacks, and the religious devotion which the “Essays” altogether miss. The “Rose Garden” has maxims which are not unworthy of being cherished amid the highest Christian civilization, while the serenity of mind, the poetic fire, the transparent sincerity of Sa’di, make his writings one of those books which men may safely take as the guide and inspirer of their inmost life. Sa’di died at Shiraz about the year 1292 at the reputed age of one hundred and ten.

E.W.

A copy of Saadi Shirazi’s works by the Bosniak scholar Safvet beg Bašagić (1870–1934)

Saadi in a Rose garden, from a Mughal manuscript of ‘Gulistan’, c. 1645

Saadi Shirazi is welcomed by a youth from Kashgar during a forum in Bukhara — double page illustration from a late Timurid manuscript

Bustan

Translated by A. Hart Edwards

Completed in 1257, Saadi’s Bustan is a book of poetry, which was dedicated to the Salghurid Atabeg Sa’d I or Sa’d II. It was the Persian poet’s first published work and the title translates as “The Orchard”. Featuring the fruits of Saadi’s long experience, it reveals his judgements on life, while illustrated by a vast collection of anecdotes. The text also includes accounts of Saadi’s travels and his analysis of human psychology. The poet often mentions his accounts with fervour and advice similar to the tenor of Aesop’s fables.

Bustan is written entirely in verse epic metre, consisting of stories aptly illustrating the standard virtues recommended to Muslims: namely, justice, liberality, modesty, contentment. The small book also offers reflections on the behaviour of dervishes and their ecstatic practices. It is full of practical spiritual wisdom and is characterised by Saadi’s tendency not to depend on allegory as much as other Sufi writers of the period. The majority of the stories in the collection are concerned with a moral lesson to instruct the reader.

This prose translation of the Bustan was originally published as part of the Wisdom of the East series in 1911 and has remained out of print for many years.

The first page of the ‘Bustan’, from a copy dated to the seventeenth century

Bustan

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER I. Concerning Justice, Counsel, and the Administration of Government

CHAPTER II. Concerning Benevolence

CHAPTER III. Concerning Love

CHAPTER IV. Concerning Humility

CHAPTER V. Concerning Resignation

CHAPTER VI. Concerning Contentment

CHAPTER VII. Concerning Education

CHAPTER VIII. Concerning Gratitude

CHAPTER IX. Concerning Repentance

CHAPTER X. Concerning Prayer

ENDNOTES

INTRODUCTION

IF AMONG THE twenty-two works with which Sadi enriched the literature of his country the Gulistan rank first in popularity, the Bustan (lit. “Garden”) may justly claim equal precedence in point of interest and merit.

No comprehensive translation of this important classical work has hitherto been placed before the reading public, but it cannot be doubted that the character of its contents is such as to fully justify the attempt now made to familiarize English readers with the entertaining anecdotes and devotional wisdom which the Sage of Shiraz embodied in his Palace of Wealth. This is the name which he applies to the Bustan in an introductory chapter, and it is .one which springs from something more than a poet’s fancy, for the ten doors, or chapters, with which the edifice is furnished lead into a garden that is indeed rich in the fruits of knowledge gained by a wide experience of life in many lands, and earnest thought.

The Bustan is written in verse — a fact which adds considerably to the difficulties of translation, since the invariable rule of Sadi, like that of every other Persian poet we have read, is to sacrifice sense to the exigencies of rhyme and metre. In not a few cases the meaning is so confused on this account that even the native commentators, who possess a fund of ingenuity in explaining what they do not properly understand, have been compelled to pass over numerous couplets through sheer inability to unravel their intricacies and the abstruse ideas of the poet.

Probably in no other language in the world is poetic license so freely permitted and indulged in as in Persian. The construction of sentences follows no rule; the order of words is just that which the individual poet chooses to adopt, and the idea of time — past, present, and future — is ignored in the use of tenses, that part of a verb being alone employed which rhymes the best.

Notwithstanding idiosyncrasies of this kind,. the Bustan is written in a style that is delightfully pure and admirably adapted to the subject. The devout spirit by which Sadi was characterized throughout his chequered life is revealed in every page of the book. In the Gulistan he gave free rein to the quaint humour which for many centuries has been the delight of the Eastern peoples, and which an ever-increasing body of English readers is learning to appreciate and admire. In the Bustan the humour is more restrained; its place is taken by a more sober reasoning of the duties of mankind towards the Deity and towards their fellow-men. Devotion to God and the inflexibility of Fate are the underlying texts of every poem, and the ideality of the one and the stern reality of the other are portrayed in language the beauty of which, it is to be feared, the English rendering does not always adequately convey.

The poems abound in metaphor, a figure of style which Eastern writers employ to a degree that is always exaggerated, and sometimes tedious; but for the purpose of this translation, which aims at a happy medium between literal accuracy and the freedom requisite in order to render Oriental phraseology into polite English, numerous of the more far-fetched allusions have been discarded, to the benefit of the text.

Although a memoir of Sadi’s life is included in another volume of this series, it may not be out of place to give here a brief outline of the poet’s career, especially as the Bustan contains several references to his childhood and travels.

Sheikh Muslih-ud-din Sadi was born in. Shiraz, in Persia, A.D. 1175; that is to say, 571 years after the flight of Muhammad from Mecca to Madina. He was the son of one Abdu’llah (servant of God), who held a Government office under the Diwan of that time. Sadi was a child when his father died, as is made clear from the pathetic poem in the second chapter, ending with these words:

Well do I know the orphan’s sorrow,
For my father departed in my childhood.

But poorly endowed with earthly riches, Sadi endured many hardships in consequence of this bereavement, and was eventually obliged to live, together with his mother, under the protection of a Saracen chief. How long he remained there it is impossible to say, for the reason that his biographers are the reverse of informing. This much is, however, known, that being imbued from early childhood with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, he eventually journeyed to Baghdad, then at the zenith of its intellectual fame, and was enabled to enter a private school there through the generosity of a wealthy native gentleman. Making full use of the opportunity so favourably presented, the young aspirant progressed rapidly along the path of learning, and at the age of twenty-one made his first essays in authorship. Some fragmentary poems which he submitted with a long dedication to Shams-ud-din, the Professor of Literature at the Nizamiah College of Baghdad, so pleased that able and discerning man that he at once fixed upon Sadi a liberal allowance from his own private purse, with the promise of every further assistance in his power. Soon after this, Sadi was admitted into the college, and ultimately gained an Idrar, or fellowship. In the seventh chapter of the Bustan he narrates an instructive story reminiscent of his studies at Nizamiah, and, prone to conceit though he often is, he tells the story against himself.

His scholastic life did not terminate until he had reached the age of thirty. Of the value of this prolonged period of study he himself was fully cognisant. Dost thou not know,” Sadi he asks in the seventh chapter, how Sadi attained to rank? Neither did he traverse the plains nor journey across seas. he In his youth he lived under the yoke of the wise: God granted him distinction in after-life. And it is not long before he who is submissive in obedience exercises command.” No better example of the truth of this passage could be cited than that afforded by his own case.

On leaving Baghdad, he went in company with his tutor, Abdul Qadir Gilani, on a pilgrimage to Mecca. This was the first of many travels extending over a period of thirty years, in the course of which he visited Europe, India, and practically every part of what are known as the Near and Middle East. A trip through Syria and Turkey is specifically mentioned in this book as inspiring the composition of the Bustan. Not wishing, as he tells us, to return empty-handed to his friends at Shiraz, he built the Palace of Wealth, and offered it to them as a gift. He does not conceal the high opinion which he himself placed upon this product of his gifted pen. The gracefully worded phrases with which he predicted the undying popularity of the Gulistan finds a parallel in the dedication of the Bustan to Atabak Abu Bakr-bin-Sad, the illustrious monarch of Persia beneath whose protection Sadi spent the latter half of his life.

“Although not wishing to sing the praises of kings,” he writes, “I have dedicated this book to one so that perhaps the pious will say that Sadi, who surpassed all in eloquence, lived in the time of Abu Bakr Sad.” Then, addressing the king, he adds: “Happy is thy fortune that Sadi’s date coincides with thine, for as long as the moon and sun are in the skies thy memory will remain eternal in this book.” This conceit is pardonable, since it has been amply justified by time.

After the thirty years of travel, Sadi, becoming elderly, settled down in Persia, where, as has been said, he gained the favour of the ruling prince, from whom he derived not only the dignity and the more tangible advantages of the post of Poet-Laureate, but his takhallus, or titular name, of Sadi. He died at the ripe age of 116, and was buried in his native city.

If the Bustan were the only monument that remained of his genius, his name would assuredly still be inscribed in the roll of the Immortals. One feature of his great intellectual faculties needs to be emphasized, and all the more so because it is apt to be overlooked. That is the increasing power which they assumed as he advanced in years, the truth of which can be understood when it is stated that he composed the Bustan at the age of 82, the Gulistan appearing twelve months later. Few, if any, instances of such sustained mental activity are to be found elsewhere in the entire world’s history of letters.

Under the several headings of the various chapters a wide range of ethical subjects is discussed, the whole forming a compendium of moral philosophy the broad principles of which must remain for all time as irrefutable as the precepts of Scriptural teaching.

Sadi’s spiritual message is not that of a visionary. His religion was an eminently practical one — he had no sympathies with the recluse and the ascetic. To fulfil one’s duties towards one’s fellow-men is to fulfil one’s duty towards the Deity. That is the root-idea of his teachings. “Religion,” he observes, “consists only in the service of the people: it does not lie in the rosary, or prayer-rug, or mendicant’s habit.”

This couplet, occurring in the opening chapter, is put into the mouth of a certain pious man whom one of the kings of Persia is said to have visited in a repentant mood for the purpose of seeking counsel. The story, like many others in the book, may or may not have any foundation in fact, “the histories of ancient kings,” which the poet frequently quotes as his authority, being rather too vague to be convincing. At the same time, the historical allusions form an interesting and instructive background to the legends and the moral precepts so abundantly interwoven among them.

Although Persia is only yet in the process of readjusting her ideas of government and the prerogatives of rulers, principles more advanced than seem compatible with despotism have been for many centuries current among her people, in theory, at least, if not in practice. Muhammad said that a little practice with much knowledge was better than much practice with little knowledge. On that ground Persia has defence, for the knowledge certainly was there. What could better describe the true relationship between king and people than Sadi’s thirteenth-century epigram? —

Subjects are as the root and the king is as the tree,
And the tree, O son, gains strength from the root.

In 1910 the autocratic tree at Teheran was rudely severed from its root; perchance the successors of Abu Bakr were not of those to whom “the words of Sadi are agreeable.”

The saving grace of benevolence is illustrated in the second chapter by means of some entertaining anecdotes, of two of which the hero is Hatim Tai, the famous Arabian chief, whose generosity was such that he preferred to die rather than disappoint the messenger sent by a jealous king to slay him. The story of the Darwesh and the Fox is noteworthy inasmuch as it throws a much-needed light upon the Eastern interpretation of all that is implied by  “qismat.” It is commonly supposed that the sense of inevitability removes from the Eastern’s mind the necessity for individual effort. This view is distinctly erroneous. No such pernicious doctrine is, at any rate, subscribed to by the educated classes; to the lazy and ne’er-do-well who plead Fate as their excuse, Sadi points the moral.

After demonstrating in the two succeeding chapters the powerlessness of man to avert the decrees of Fate, and the virtues of contentment, the poet passes on to discuss the cultivation of the mind. The comparison here drawn between the human mind and a city “full of good and evil desires,” of which the Ego is the Sultan and Reason the Vazier, is original and full of meaning. Despite his own much-vaunted eloquence and facility of speech, Sadi condemns in scathing terms the man of many words, remarking poignantly that “a grain of musk is better than a heap of mud.” So, too, in his opinion, is a thief better than a backbiter, and, apropos of the gentler sex, a woman of good nature better than one of beauty. The advice to take a new wife every year cannot be regarded seriously, even though it be true that last year’s almanac has lost its usefulness. More worthy of the poet is the discourse on the training of children. Nothing truer than the sentiments expressed in this poem did he ever utter, and in England today there can be few who would dispute them.

Excessive charm pervades the three concluding chapters. If that bigotry and spirit of intolerance of which the Mussulman, no less than the followers of other creeds, is guilty is revealed in no small measure, criticism on that score must give place to wonder and admiration for the sincere and perfervid homage which the poet renders to the Deity whom, in the essence, all nations worship.

The narrative, in the eighth chapter, of Sadi’s adventure with the idolaters in Guzerat will be found amusing as well as enlightening.

Nothing now remains for the translator but to join with Sadi in his plea for indulgent criticism:

Never have I heard it said
The wise found fault with what they read,
Though of Chinese cloth a robe be made,
Inside must a cotton lining be laid.
If thou wouldst but the cloth, seek not to condemn —
Gloss over the cotton with acumen.
On the Day of Judgment the wicked will be
Forgiven, through them that have purity.
If in my words thou evil find,
Do likewise, forgive, for more is behind.
If a word in a thousand suit thy taste,
Do not denounce the rest in haste.

The poet goes on to remark that his compositions are esteemed in Persia as is the choicest musk of Tartary: the translator is less fortunate and more modest.

A. H. E.

PROLOGUE

In The Name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful

In the name of Him Who created and sustains the world, the Sage Who endowed tongue with speech.

He attains no honour who turns the face from the door of His mercy.

The kings of the earth prostrate themselves before Him in supplication.

He seizes not in haste the disobedient, nor drives away the penitent with violence. The two worlds are as a drop of water in the ocean of His knowledge.

He withholds not His bounty though His servants sin; upon the surface of the earth liar He spread a feast, in which both friend and foe may share.

Peerless He is, and His kingdom is eternal. Upon the head of one He placeth a crown; another he hurleth from the throne to the ground.

The fire of His friend He turneth into a flowergarden; through the waters of the Nile He sendeth His foes to perdition.

Behind the veil He seeth all, and concealeth our faults with His own goodness.

He is near to them that are downcast, and accepteth the prayers of them that lament.

He knoweth of the things that exist not, of secrets that are untold.

He causeth the moon and the sun to revolve, and spreadeth water upon the earth.

In the heart of a stone hath He placed a jewel; from nothing hath He created all that is.

Who can reveal the secret of His qualities; what eye can see the limits of His beauty?

The bird of thought cannot soar to the height of His presence, nor the hand of understanding reach to the skirt of His praise.

Think not, O Sadi, that one can walk in the road of purity except in the footsteps of Muhammad.

He is the patriarch of the prophets, the guide of the path of salvation; the mediator of mankind, and the chief of the Court of Judgment. What of thy praises can Sadi utter? The mercy of God be upon thee, O Prophet, and peace!

ON THE REASON FOR THE WRITING OF THE BOOK

I travelled in many regions of the globe and passed the days in the company of many men. I reaped advantages in every corner, and gleaned an ear of corn from every harvest. But I saw none like the pious and devout men of Shiraz — upon which land be the grace of God — my attachment with whom drew away my heart from Syria and Turkey.

I regretted that I should go from the garden of the world empty-handed to my friends, and reflected: “Travellers bring sugar-candy from Egypt as a present to their friends. Although I have no candy, yet have I words that are sweeter. The sugar that I bring is not that which is eaten, but what knowers of truth take away with respect.”

When I built this Palace of Wealth, 1 I furnished it with ten doors of instruction. 2

It was in the year 655 that this famous treasury became full of the pearls of eloquence. A quilted robe of silk, or of Chinese embroidery, must of necessity be padded with cotton; if thou obtain aught of the silk, fret not — be generous and conceal the cotton. I have heard that in the day of Hope and Fear the Merciful One will pardon the evil for the sake of the good. If thou see evil in my words, do thou likewise. If one couplet among a thousand please thee, generously withhold thy faultfinding.

Assuredly, my compositions are esteemed in Persia as the priceless musk of Khutan. Sadi brings roses to the garden with mirth. His verses are like dates encrusted with sugar — when opened, a stone 3 is revealed inside.

CONCERNING ATABAK ABU BAKR, SON OF SAD 4

Although not desiring to write in praise of kings, I have inscribed this book to the name of a certain one so that perhaps the pious may say: Sadi, who surpassed all in eloquence, lived in the time of Abu Bakr, the son of Sad.” Thus, in this book will his memory remain so long as the moon and sun are in the skies. Beyond count are his virtues — may the world fulfil his desires, the heavens be his friend, and the Creator be his guardian.

CHAPTER I. Concerning Justice, Counsel, and the Administration of Government

The goodness of God surpasseth imagination; what service can the tongue of praise perform?

Keep, O God, this king,5 Abu Bakr, beneath whose shadow is the protection of the people, long established upon his throne, and make his heart to live in obedience to Thee. Render fruitful his tree of hope; prolong his youth, and adorn his face with mercy.

O King! deck not thyself in royal garments when thou comest to worship: make thy supplications like a darwesh, saying: “O God! powerful and strong Thou art. I am no monarch, but a beggar in Thy court. Unless Thy help sustain me, what can issue from my hand? Succour me, and give me the means of virtue, or else how can I benefit my people?”

If thou rule by day, pray fervently by night. The great among thy servants wait upon thee at thy door; thus shouldest thou serve, with thy head in worship upon God’s threshold.

NUSHIRAVAN’S 6 COUNSEL TO HIS SON

Thus, when at the point of death, did Nushiravan counsel his son Hurmuz:

“Cherish the poor, and seek not thine own comfort. The shepherd should not sleep while the wolf is among the sheep. Protect the needy, for a king wears his crown for the sake of his subjects. The people are as the root and the king is as the tree; and the tree, O son,. gains strength from the root. He should not oppress the people who has fear of injury to his kingdom. Seek not plenteousness in that land where the people are afflicted by the king. Fear them that are proud and them that fear not God.”

DISCOURSE CONCERNING TRAVELLERS

The king who deals harshly with merchants who come from afar closes the door of well-being upon the whole of his subjects. When do the wise return to the land of which they hear rumours of bad custom?

If thou desire a good name, hold merchants and travellers in high esteem, for they carry thy reputation through the world. Be cautious also lest, being enemies in the guise of friends, they seek thy injury.

Advance the dignities of old friends, for treachery comes not from them that are cherished.

When thy servant becomes stricken in years, be not unmindful of thy obligations towards him. If old age binds his hand from service, the hand of generosity yet remains to thee.

STORY ILLUSTRATING THE NEED FOR DELIBERATION

There once landed at a seaport of Arabia a man who had widely travelled and was versed in many sciences. He presented himself at the palace of the king, who was so captivated by his wisdom and knowledge that he appointed the traveller to the vaziership.

With such skill did he perform the duties of that office that he offended none, and brought the kingdom completely beneath his sway. He closed the mouths of slanderers, because nothing evil issued from his hand; and the envious, who could detect no fault in him, bemoaned their lack of opportunity to do him injury.

At the court, however, there were two beautiful young slaves towards whom the vazier displayed no small measure of affection. (If thou wouldst that thy rank endure, incline not thy heart towards the fair; and though thy love be innocent, have care, for there is fear of loss.)

The former vazier, who had been dismissed to make room for the newcomer, maliciously carried the story to the king.

“I know not,” he said, “who this new minister may be, but he lives not chastely in this land. I have heard that he intrigues with two of thy slaves — he is a perfidious man, and lustful. It is not right that one such as he should bring ill-fame upon the court. I am not so unmindful of the favours that I have received at thy hands that I should see these things and remain silent.”

Angered by what lie heard, the king stealthily watched the new vazier, and when, later, he observed the latter glance towards one of the slaves, who returned a covert smile, his suspicions of evil became at once confirmed.

Summoning the minister to his side, he said: I did not know thee to be shameless and unworthy. Such lofty station is not thy proper place. But the fault is mine. If I cherish one who is of evil nature, assuredly do I sanction disloyalty in my house.”

“Since my skirt is free from guilt,” the vazier replied, “I fear not the malignity of the evil-wisher. I know not who has accused me of what I have not done.”

“This was told me by the old vazier,” explained the king.

The vazier smiled and said, “Whatever he said is no cause for wonder. What would the envious man say when he saw me in his former place? Him I knew to be my enemy that day when Khasrav 7 appointed him to lower rank than me. Never till Doomsday will he accept me as a friend when in my promotion he sees his own decline. If thou wilt give ear to thy slave I will narrate a story that is apropos.

“In a dream some one saw the Prince of Evil, whose figure was as erect as a fir-tree, and whose face was as fair as the sun. Regarding him, the sleeper said: ‘O splendid being! Mankind knows not of thy beauty. Fearful of countenance do they imagine thee, and hideous have they depicted thee on the walls of the public baths. The Prince of Evil smiled: Such is not my figure, he replied; ‘but the pencil was in the hand of an enemy! The root of their stock did I throw out of Paradise; now in malice do they paint me ugly.’

“In the same way,” continued the vazier, “although my fame is good, the envious speak ill of me. Those who are guiltless are brave in speech; only he who gives false weight has fear of the inspector.”

“Forsooth,” the king exclaimed, his anger rising, “I heard this not only from thine enemy. Have I not seen with my own eyes that among the assemblage of this court thou regardest none but those two slaves?”

“That is true,” the vazier said, “but I will explain this matter if thou wilt listen. Dost thou not know that the beggar eyes the rich with envy? Once, like those slaves, did I possess both grace and beauty. Two rows of teeth were set behind my lips, erect like a wall of ivory 8 bricks. One by one, like ancient bridges, have they fallen — regard me now as here I stand! Why may I not glance with envy at those slaves when they recall to me the past?

When the wise man had pierced this pearl of lustrous truth, the king exclaimed: “Better than this it would be impossible to speak. Permissible it is to look toward the fair in one who can thus excuse himself. Had I not in wisdom acted with deliberation, I should have wronged him through the speech of an enemy.”

To carry the hand quickly to the sword in anger is to carry the back of the hand to the teeth in regret. Heed not the words of the envious; if thou attest upon them, remorseful wilt thou be.

Admonishing the slanderer for his evil words, the king further increased the dignity of the vazier, who directed the affairs of the State for many years with justice and benevolence, and was long remembered for his virtues.

STORY OF THE KING WHOSE COAT WAS COARSE

A certain just king habitually wore a coat of coarse material. Some one said to him: “O happy king! Make for thyself a coat of Chinese brocade.”

“That which I wear,” the king replied, “affords both covering and comfort; anything beyond that is luxury. I collect not tribute that I may adorn my person and my throne. If, like a woman, I ornament my body, how, like a man, can I repulse the enemy? The royal treasuries are not for me alone — they are filled for the sake of the army, not for the purchase of ornaments and jewellery.”

STORY OF DARIUS AND THE HERDSMAN

Darius9, king of Persia, became separated from his retinue while hunting. A herdsman came running towards him, and the king assuming the man to be an enemy, adjusted his bow. Thereupon the herdsman cried: “I am no enemy; seek not to kill me. I am he who tends the king’s horses, and in this meadow am thus engaged.”

Becoming again composed, the king smiled and said: “Heaven has befriended thee; otherwise would I have drawn the bowstring to my ear.”

“It showeth neither wise administration nor good judgment,” replied the herdsman, “when the king knows not an enemy from a friend. Those who are greatest should know those who are least. Many times hast thou seen me in thy presence, and asked of me concerning the horses and the grazing-fields. Now that I come again before thee thou takest me for an enemy. More skilled am I, O king, for I can distinguish one horse out of a hundred thousand. Tend thou thy people as I, with sense and judgment tend my horses.”

Ruin brings sorrow to that kingdom where the wisdom of the shepherd exceeds that of the king.

STORY OF ABDUL AZIZ AND THE PEARL

The story is told of Abdul Aziz that he had a pearl of great beauty and value set in a ring. Shortly after, a severe drought occurred, causing distress among the people. Moved by compassion, the king ordered the pearl to be sold and the money that it fetched to be given to the poor.

Some one chided him for doing this, saying: “Never again will such a stone come into thy hands.”

Weeping, the king replied: “Ugly is an ornament upon the person of a king when the hearts of his people are distressed by want. Better for me is a stoneless ring than a sorrowing people.”

Happy is he who sets the ease of others above his own. The virtuous desire not their own pleasure at the expense of others. When the king sleeps neglectfully upon his couch, I trow not that the beggar finds enviable repose.

STORY OF HOW TUKLA WAS REBUKED BY A DEVOTEE

Tukla, king of Persia, once visited a devotee and said: “Fruitless have been my years. None but the beggar carries riches from the world when earthly dignities are passed. Hence, would I now sit in the corner of devotion that I might usefully employ the few short days that yet remain to me.”

The devotee was angered at these words.

“Enough!” he cried. “Religion consists alone in the service of the people; it finds no place in the rosary, or prayer-rug, or tattered garment. Be a king in sovereignty and a devotee in purity of morals. Action, not words, is demanded by religion, for words without action are void of substance.”

DISCOURSE CONCERNING RICHES AND POVERTY

Say not that no dignity excels that of sovereignty, for no kingdom is more free from care than that of the darwesh.

They that are the most lightly burdened reach the destination first.

The poor man is afflicted by lack of bread; the king by the cares of his kingdom.

Though one may rule and another may serve, though the one be exalted to the height of Saturn and the other languish in a prison, when death has claimed them it will not be possible to distinguish between the two.

STORY OF QAZAL ARSALAN 10 AND THE FORT

Qazal Arsalan possessed a fort, which raised its head to the height of Alwand. 11 Secure from all were those within its walls, for its roads were a labyrinth, like the curls of a bride.

From a learned traveller Qazal once inquired: “Didst thou ever, in thy wanderings, see a fort as strong as this?”

“Splendid it is,” was the reply, “but methinks not it confers much strength. Before thee, did not other kings possess it for a while, then pass away? After thee, will not other kings assume control, and eat the fruits of the tree of thy hope?”

In the estimation of the wise, the world is a false gem that passes each moment from one hand to another.

A STORY OF DAMASCUS

Such famine was there once in Damascus that lovers forgot their love. So miserly was the sky towards the earth that the sown fields and the date-trees moistened not their lips. Fountains dried up, and no water remained but the tears in the eyes of the orphans. If smoke issued from a chimney, nought was it but the sighs of the widows. Like beggars, the trees stood leafless, and the mountains lost their verdure. The locusts devoured the gardens, and men devoured the locusts.

At that time came to me a friend on whose bones skin alone remained. I was astonished, since he was of lofty rank and rich. “O friend!” said I, “what misfortune has befallen thee?”

“Where is thy sense?” he answered. “Seest thou not that the severities of famine have reached their limit? Rain comes not from the sky, neither do the lamentations of the suffering reach to heaven.”

“Thou, at least,” I urged, “hast nought to fear; poison kills only where there is no antidote.”

Regarding me with indignation, as a learned man regards a fool, my friend replied: “Although a man be safely on the shore, he stands not supine while his friends are drowning. My face is not pale through want; the sorrows of the poor have wounded my heart. Although, praise be to Allah, I am free from wounds, I tremble when I see the wounds of others.”

Bitter are the pleasures of him who is in health when a sick man is at his side. When the beggar has not eaten, poisonous and baneful is one’s food.

STORY OF A BULLY

A bully fell down a well and passed the night in wailing and lamenting. Some one threw a stone down on to his head, and said: “Didst thou ever go to any one’s assistance that thou shouldst to-day cry out for help? Didst thou ever sow the seeds of virtue? Who would place a salve upon thy wounds when the hearts of all cry out by reason of thy tyrannies? Across our path thou didst dig a pit, into which, perforce, hast thou now fallen.”

If thou do evil expect not goodness; never does the withered grape-vine bring forth fruit;

O thou who soweth the seed in autumn! I think not that thou wilt reap the corn at harvest-time.

If thou nourish the thorn-tree of the desert, think not that thou wilt ever eat its fruit.

Green dates come not from the poisonous colocynth; when thou sowest seed, hope only for the fruit of that very seed.

CHAPTER II. Concerning Benevolence

If thou art wise, incline towards the essential truth, for that remains, while the things that are external pass away.

He who has neither knowledge, generosity, nor piety resembles a man in form alone..

He sleeps at peace beneath the ground who made tranquil the hearts of men.

Give now of thy gold and bounty, for eventually will it pass from thy grasp. Open the door of thy treasure to-day, for to-morrow the key will not be in thy hands.

If thou would not be distressed on the Day of Judgment, forget not them that are distressed.

Drive not the poor man empty from thy door, lest thou should wander before the doors of strangers.

He protects the needy who fears that he himself may become needful of the help of others.

Art not thou, too, a supplicant? Be grateful, and turn not away them that supplicate thee.

STORY ILLUSTRATIVE OF DOING GOOD TO THE EVIL

A woman said to her husband: “Do not again buy bread from the baker in this street. Make thy purchases in the market, for this man shows wheat and sells barley, 12 and he has no customers but a swarm of flies.”

“O light of my life,” the husband answered, “pay no heed to his trickery. In the hope of our custom has he settled in this place, and not humane would it be to deprive him of his profits.”

Follow the path of the righteous, and, if thou stand upon thy feet, stretch out thy hand to them that are fallen.

STORY CONCERNING FASTING

The wife of an officer of a king said to her husband: “Arise, and go to the royal palace, that they may give thee food, for thy children are in want.”

“The kitchen is closed to-day,” he answered; “last night the Sultan resolved to fast awhile.”

In the despair of hunger, the woman bowed her head and murmured: “What does the Sultan seek from his fasting when his breaking the fast means a festival of joy for our children?”

One who eats that good may follow is better than a Mammon-worshipper who continually fasts. Proper it is to fast with him who feeds the needy in the morning.

STORY ILLUSTRATIVE OF PRACTICAL CHARITY

A certain man had generosity without the means of displaying it; his pittance was unequal to his benevolence. (May riches never fall to the mean, nor poverty be the lot of the generous!) His charities exceeding the depth of his pocket, therefore was he always short of money.

One day a poor man wrote to him saying: “O thou of happy nature! Assist me with funds, since for some time have I languished in prison.”

The generous man would have willingly acceded to the request, but he possessed not so much as the smallest piece of money. But he sent someone to the creditors of the prisoner with the message: “Free this man for a few days, and I will be his security.”

Then did he visit the prisoner in his cell and say: “Arise, and fly with haste from the city.”

When a sparrow sees open the door of its cage, it tarries not a moment. Like the morning breeze, the prisoner flew from the land. Thereupon, they seized his benefactor, saying: “Produce either the man or the money.”

Powerless to do either, he went to prison, for a bird escaped is ne’er recaught. Long there did he remain, invoking help from none, nor complaining, though he slept not at nights through restlessness.

A pious man came to him and said: “I did not think that thou wert dishonest; why art thou here imprisoned?”

“No villainy have I committed,” he replied. I saw a helpless man in bonds and his freedom only in my own confinement. I did not deem it right that I should live in comfort while another was fettered by the legs.”

Eventually he died, leaving a good name behind.

Happy is he whose name dies not! He who sleeps beneath the earth with a heart that lives is better than he who lives with a soul that is dead, for the former remains for ever.

STORY OF A MAN AND A THIRSTY DOG

In a desert a man found a dog that was dying from thirst. Using his hat as a bucket, he fetched water from a well and gave it to the helpless animal. The prophet of the time stated that God had forgiven the man his sins because of his kindly act.

Reflect, if thou be a tyrant, and make a profession of benevolence.

He who shows kindness to a dog will not do less towards the good among his fellows.

Be generous to the extent of thy power. If thou hast not dug a well in the desert, at least place a lamp in a shrine. 13

Charity distributed from an ox’s skin that is filled with treasure counts for less than a dinar given from the wages of toil.

Every man’s burden is suited to his strength — heavy to the ant is the foot of the locust.

Do good to others so that on the morrow God may not deal harshly with thee.

Be lenient with thy slave, for he may one day become a king, like a pawn that becomes a queen.

STORY APROPOS OF NEMESIS

A poor man complained of his distressed condition to one who was rich as well as ill-dispositioned. The latter refused to help him, and turned roughly upon him in anger.

The beggar’s heart bled by reason of this violence: “Strange!” he reflected, “that this rich man should be of such forbidding countenance! Perhaps he fears not the bitterness of begging.”

The rich man ordered his slave to drive the beggar away. As a result of his ingratitude for the blessings that he enjoyed, Fortune forsook him, and lie lost all that he possessed. His slave passed into the hands of a generous man of enlightened mind, who was as gladdened at the sight of a beggar as the latter is at the sight of riches.14

One night a beggar asked alms of the latter, and he commanded his slave to give the man to eat. When the slave took food to the supplicant he involuntarily uttered a cry, and went back weeping.

“Why these tears?” his master asked.

My heart is grieved at the plight of this unfortunate old man,” the slave replied. “Once was he the owner of much wealth, and I his slave.”

The master smiled and said: This is not cause for grief, O son. Time, in its revolutions, is not unjust. Was not that indigent man formerly a merchant who carried his head high in the air through pride? I am he whom that day he drove from his door. Fate has now put him in the place that I then occupied. Heaven befriended me and washed the dust of sorrow from my face. Though God, in His wisdom, closed one door, another, in His mercy, did He open.”

Many a needy one has become filled, and many a Plutos has gone empty.

STORY OF A FOOL AND A FOX

Some one saw a fox that was bereft of the use of its legs. He was wondering how the animal managed to live in this condition when a tiger drew near with a jackal in its claws. The tiger ate the jackal, and the fox finished the remains. The next day also did the Omnipotent Provider send the fox its daily meal.

The eyes of the man were thus opened to the light of true knowledge. “After this,” he reflected, “I will sit in a corner like an ant, for the elephant’s portion is not gained by reason of its strength.”

So did he sit in silence, waiting for his daily food to come from the Invisible. No one heeded him, and soon was he reduced to skin and bones. When, at last, his senses had almost gone through weakness, a voice came out from the wall of a mosque, saying:

“Go, O false one! Be the rending tiger, and pose not as a paralytic fox. Exert thyself like the tiger, so that something may remain from thy spoil. Why, like the fox, appease thy hunger with leavings? Eat of the fruits of thine own endeavours; strive like a man, and relieve the wants of the needy.”

Seize, O youth, the hand of the aged; fall not thyself, saying, “Hold my hand.” In the two worlds does he obtain reward who does good to the people of God.

STORY OF A DEVOUT MISER

In the remote regions of Turkey there lived a good and pious man, whom I and some fellow-travellers once visited. He received us cordially, and seated us with respect. He had vineyards, and wheat-fields, slaves and gold, but was as miserly as a leafless tree. His feelings were warm, but his fireplace was cold. He passed the night awake in prayer, and we in hunger. In the morning he girt his loins and recommenced the same politeness of the previous night.

One of our party was of merry wit and temper. “Come, give us food in change for a kiss,” 15 he said, “for that is better to a hungry man. In serving me, place not thy hand upon my shoe, but give me bread and strike thy shoe upon my head.”

Excellence is attained by generosity, not by vigils in the night.

Idle words are a hollow drum; invocations without merit are a weak support.

STORY OF HATIM TAI 16

Hatim Tai possessed a horse whose fleetness was as that of the morning breeze. Of this was the Sultan of Turkey informed.

“Like Hatim Tai,” he was told, “none is equal in generosity; like his horse, nothing is equal in speed and gait. As a ship in the sea it traverses the desert, while the eagle, exhausted, lags behind.”

“From Hatim will I request that horse,” the king replied. “If he be generous and give it to me, then shall I know that his fame is true; if not, that it is but the sound of a hollow drum.”

So he despatched a messenger with ten followers to Hatim. They alighted at the house of the Arab chief, who prepared a feast and killed a horse 17 in their honour.

On the following day, when the messenger explained the object of his mission, Hatim became as one mad with grief. “Why,” he cried, “didst thou not give me before thy message? That swift-paced horse did I roast last night for thee to eat. No other means had I to entertain thee; that horse alone stood by my tent, and I would not that my guests should sleep fasting.”

To the men he gave money and splendid robes, and when the news of his generosity reached to Turkey, the king showered a thousand praises upon his nature.

STORY OF HATIM AND THE MESSENGER SENT TO KILL HIM

One of the kings of Yaman was renowned for his liberality, yet the name of Hatim was never mentioned in his presence without his falling into a rage. “How long,” he would ask, “wilt thou speak of that vain man, who possesses neither a kingdom, nor power, nor wealth?”

On one occasion he prepared a royal feast, which the people were invited to attend. Someone began to speak of Hatim, and another to praise him. Envious, the king despatched a. man to slay the Arabian chief, reflecting: “So long as Hatim lives, my name will never become famous.”

The messenger departed, and travelled far seeking for Hatim that he might kill him. As he went along the road a youth came out to meet him. He was handsome and wise, and showed friendliness toward the messenger, whom he took to his house to pass the night. Such liberality did he shower upon his guest that the heart of the evil-minded one was turned to goodness.

In the morning the generous youth kissed his hand and said: “Remain with me for a few days.”

“I am unable to tarry here,” replied the messenger, “for urgent business is before me.”

“If thou wilt entrust me with thy secret,” said the youth, “to aid thee will I spare no effort.”

“O generous man!” was the reply, “give ear to me, for I know that the generous are concealers of secrets. Perhaps in this country thou knowest Hatim, who is of lofty mind and noble qualities. The king of Yaman desires his head, though I know not what enmity has arisen between them. Grateful shall I be if thou wilt direct me to where he is. This hope from thy kindness do I entertain, O friend!”

The youth laughed and said: “I am Hatim; see here my head! strike it from my body with thy sword. I would not that harm should befall thee, or that thou shouldst fail in thy endeavour.”

Throwing aside his sword, the man fell on the ground and kissed the dust of Hatim’s feet. “If I injured a hair on thy body,” he cried, “I should no longer be a man.” So saying, he clasped Hatim to his breast and took his way back to Yaman.

“Come,” said the king as the man approached, “what news hast thou? Why didst thou not tie his head to thy saddle-straps? Perhaps that famous one attacked thee and thou wert too weak to engage in combat.”

The messenger kissed the ground and said: “O wise and just king! I found Hatim, and saw him to be generous and full of wisdom, and in courage superior to myself. My back was bent by the burden o f his favours; with the sword of kindness and bounty he killed me.”

When he had related all that he had seen of Hatim’s generosity, the king uttered praises upon the family of the Arab chief and rewarded the messenger with gold.

STORY ILLUSTRATIVE OF MISDIRECTED KINDNESS

A certain man, in the ceiling of whose house some bees had built their hives, asked his wife for a butcher’s knife so that he might destroy them. “Do not so,” the woman said, for the poor creatures will be greatly distressed when turned out of their homes.”

Accordingly, the foolish man left the bees in peace.

One day the woman was stung by one of the insects and stood wailing on the doorstep. Hearing her cries, the husband left his shop and hurried towards the house. Angered, he said: “O wife! show not such a bitter face to the world; remember thou didst say to me, ‘Kill not the poor bees.’”

How can one do good to the evil? Forbearance with the wicked but increases their iniquity.

What is a dog that a dish of viands should be set before him? Command that they should give him bones. A kicking animal is best well-burdened.

If the night-watchman display humanity, no one sleeps at night for fear of thieves.

In the battle-field, the spear-shaft is worth more than a hundred thousand sugarcanes.

When thou rearest a cat, she destroys thy pigeons; when thou makest fat a wolf, he rends one who is dear to thee.

Raise not a building that has not a strong foundation; if thou dost, beware.

DISCOURSE CONCERNING KINDNESS TO ORPHANS

Protect him whose father is dead; remove the dust from his raiment, and injure him not. Thou knowest not how hard is his condition; no foliage is there on a rootless tree. Give not a kiss to a child of thine own in the sight of a helpless orphan. If the latter weep, who will assuage his grief? If he be angered, who will bear his burden? See that he weeps not, for the throne of God trembles at the orphan’s lament. With pity, wipe the tears from his eyes and the dust from his face. If the protecting shadow of his father’s care be gone, cherish him beneath the shadow of thy care.

Upon my head was a kingly crown when it reposed upon the bosom of my father. Then, if a fly settled upon my body, many were distressed on my behalf. Now, should I be taken in captivity, not one among my friends would come to aid me. Well do I know the orphan’s sorrow, for my father departed in my childhood.

CHAPTER III. Concerning Love

Happy are the days of them that are infatuated by love for Him, whether they be sorrowed by separation from Him or made joyous by His presence.

They are mendicants who fly from worldly sovereignty; in the hope of meeting Him they are patient in their mendicity. Oft have they drunk of the wine of anguish; be it bitter, they remain silent. In the remembrance of Him patience is not bitter, for wormwood is sweet from the hand of a friend.

They that are captive in the coils of His love, seek not to escape; they suffer reproach, but are monarchs in the seclusion of their meditation, and their way is not known. They are like the temple of Jerusalem, splendid of which is the interior, but whose outer wall is left in ruin.

Like moths, they burn themselves in the fire of love. Their beloved is in their breasts, yet do they seek Him; though near a fountain, their lips are parched. 18

DISCOURSE CONCERNING CONSTANCY

Thy love renders thee impatient and disturbed. With such sincerity hast thou placed thy head at her feet that thou art oblivious to the world.

When in the eyes of thy beloved riches count not, gold and dust are as one to thee.

Thou sayest that she dwelleth in thine eyes — if they be closed, she is in thy mind.

If she demand thy life, thou dost place it in her hand; if she place a sword upon thy head, thou holdest it forward.

When earthly love produces such confusion and such obedience demands, dost thou wonder if travellers of the road of God remain engulfed in the Ocean of Reality?

In the remembrance of their Friend they have turned their backs upon the world; they are so fascinated by the Cup-bearer that they have spilled the wine.

No medicine can cure them, for no one has. knowledge of their pains.

With their cries of longing do they root up a mountain; with their sighs they dismember a kingdom.

Such is their weeping at dawn that the tears wash the collyrium of sleep from their eyes. Night and day are they immersed in the sea of love; so distracted are they that they know not night from day.

So enamoured are they of the beauty of the Painter that they care not for the beauty of His designs.

He drinks of the pure wine of Unity who is forgetful of both this world and the next.

STORY OF A DANCER

I have heard that, at the singing of a musician, one of fairy-face began to dance. Surrounded by distracted hearts, the flame of a candle caught her skirt. She was distressed and angered.

One of her lovers said, “Why agitate thyself? The fire has burned thy skirts — it 19 has entirely consumed the harvest of my life.”

STORY ILLUSTRATING THE REALITY OF LOVE

One who loved God set his face towards the desert. His father, being grieved at his absence, neither ate nor slept.

Some one admonished the son, who said “Since my Friend has claimed me as His own, no other friendship do I own. When He revealed to me His beauty, all else that I saw appeared unreal.”

They that love Him care for no one else; their senses are confused and their ears are deaf to the words of them that reproach.

They wander through the desert of Divine Knowledge without a caravan.

They have no hope of approbation from their fellow-men, for they are the chosen of the elect of God.

STORY ILLUSTRATIVE OF PATIENCE

An old man begged at the door of a mosque. Some one said to him: “This is not the place to beg; stand not here with impudence.”

“What house is this,” the man inquired, “from which no pity comes upon the condition of the poor?”

“Silence!” was the reply. “What foolish words are these! This is the house of our Master!”

The beggar raised a cry: “Alas,” he said, “that I should be disappointed at this door. I have not gone hopeless from any street; why should I go thus from the door of God? Here will I stretch forth my hand of want, for I know that I shall not depart empty-handed.”

For a year he remained devoutly employed in the mosque. One night, through weakness, his heart began to palpitate, and at daybreak his last breath flickered like a morning lamp. Thus did he exclaim with joy: “And whoever knocked at the door of the Bounteous One, it opened.”

He who seeks God should be patient and enduring; I have not heard of an alchemist being sad. Much gold he reduces to ashes so that he may one day turn copper into gold. Gold is good with which to buy — and what couldst thou wish to buy better than the face of thy Friend? 20

STORY OF ONE WHO WAS ASSIDUOUS IN PRAYER

An old man spent the night in worship and the morning in prayer. A guardian angel whispered to him: “Go, take thy way, for thy prayers are not acceptable at this door.”

The next night again he passed the night in devotion; and a disciple, being informed of his circumstances, said: “When thou seest that the door is shut, why dost thou thus exert thyself?”

Weeping, he replied: “O my son! Dost thou suppose that although He has torn my reins I shall keep my hands from off his saddle-straps? When a supplicant is repelled at one door, what is his fear if he know of another?”

While thus he spoke, with his head upon the ground, the angel uttered this message in his ears: “Although there is no merit in him, his prayers are accepted, for except Me he has no refuge.”

STORY OF SULTAN MAHMUD AND HIS LOVE FOR AYAZ

Some one found fault with the king of  Ghazni, saying: “Ayaz, his favourite slave, possesses no beauty. It is strange that a nightingale should love a rose that has neither colour nor perfume.”

This was told to Mahmud, who said: “My love, O sir, is for his virtues, not for his farm and stature.”

I have heard that in a narrow pass a camel fell and a chest of pearls was broken. The king gave the signal for plunder, and urged on his horse with speed. The horsemen did likewise, and, leaving the king behind, gathered up the pearls. Not one of them remained near the king but Ayaz.

“O thou of curly locks!” said Mahmud, “what hast thou gained of the plunder?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “I walked in haste behind thee: I do not occupy myself with riches away from thy service.”

If an honourable place in the court be thine, be not neglectful of the king on account of gain elsewhere.

STORY OF A VILLAGE CHIEF

A village chief passed with his son through the centre of the imperial army. In the presence of such pomp and splendour the man displayed humility and fled, through fear, into a corner.

“After all,” observed his son, “thou art a ‘village chief, and in chieftaincy greater than the nobles. Why dost thou tremble like a willow tree?”

“True,” replied his father. I am a chief and a ruler, but my honour lies as far as my village.”

Thus are the saints overwhelmed with fear when they stand in the court of their King.

STORY OF A FIRE-FLY

Perhaps thou mayest have seen the fire-fly shine like a lamp in the garden at night.

“O night-illuminating moth!” some one said, “why comest thou not out in the daytime?”

The fly gave an answer full of wisdom: Because I am not visible before the sun.”

STORY OF A MOTH AND A CANDLE

Some one said to a moth: “Go, thou contemptible creature, and make friendship with one worthy of thyself; go where thou seest the path of hope. How different is thy love from that of the candle! Thou art not a salamander — hover not around the fire, for bravery is necessary before combat. It is not compatible with reason that thou shouldst acknowledge as a friend one whom thou knowest to be thine enemy.”

“What does it matter if I burn?” the moth replied. “I have love in my heart, and this flame is as a flower to me. Not of my own accord do I throw myself into the fire; the chain of her love is upon my neck. Who is it that finds fault with my friendship for my friend? I am content to be slain at her feet. I burn because she is dear to me, and because my destruction may affect her. Say not to the helpless man from whose hands the reins have fallen, ‘Drive slowly.’”

ANOTHER STORY ON THE SAME SUBJECT

One night, as I lay awake, I heard a moth say to a candle: “I am thy lover; if I burn, it is proper. Why dost thou weep?”

The candle replied: “O my poor friend! Love is not thy business. Thou fliest from before a flame; I stand erect until I am entirely consumed. If the fire of love has burned thy wings, regard me, who from head to foot must be destroyed.”

Before the night had passed, some one put the candle out, exclaiming: “Such is the end of love!”

Grieve not over the grave of one who lost his life for his friend; be glad of heart, for he was the chosen of Him.

If thou art a lover, wash not thy head of the sickness of love; like Sadi, wash thy hands of selfishness.

A devoted lover holds not back his hand from the object of his affections though arrows and stones may rain upon his head.

Be cautious; if thou goest down to the sea, give thyself up to the storm.

CHAPTER IV. Concerning Humility

Thou, O creature of God, vast created of the dust; therefore, be humble as the dust. Be not covetous, nor oppressive, nor headstrong. Thou art from the dust; be not like fire. When the terrible fire raised his head in pride, the dust prostrated itself in humility.

And since the fire was arrogant and the dust was meek, from the former were the demons formed, and from the latter mankind.

STORY OF A RAINDROP

A raindrop fell from a spring cloud, and, seeing the wide expanse of the sea, was shamed. “Where the sea is,” it reflected, “where am I? Compared with that, forsooth, I am extinct.”

While thus regarding itself with an eye of contempt, an oyster took it to its bosom, and Fate so shaped its course that eventually the raindrop became a famous royal pearl.

It was exalted, for it was humble. Knocking at the door of extinction, it became existent.

STORY ILLUSTRATIVE OF PIOUS MEN REGARDING THEMSELVES WITH CONTEMPT

A sagacious youth of noble family landed at a seaport of Turkey, and, as he displayed piety and wisdom, his baggage was deposited in a mosque.

One day the priest said to him: “Sweep away the dust and rubbish from the mosque.”

Immediately, the young man went away and no one saw him there again. Thus, did the elder and his followers suppose he did not care to serve.

The next day, a servant of the mosque met him on the road and said: ‘Thou didst act wrongly in thy perverse judgment. Knowest thou not, O conceited youth, that men are dignified by service?”

Sorrowfully, the youth began to weep. “O soul-cherishing and heart-illuminating friend!” he answered; “I saw no dirt or rubbish in that holy place but mine own corrupt self. Therefore, I retraced my steps, for a mosque is better cleansed from such.”

Humility is the only ritual for a devotee. If thou desire greatness, be humble; no other ladder is there by which to climb.

STORY OF SULTAN BAYAZID BUSTAMI 21

When Bayazid was coming from his bath one morning during the Id festival, some one unwittingly emptied a tray of ashes from a window upon his head. With his face and turban all bespattered, he rubbed his hands in gratitude and said: I am in truth worthy of the fires of hell; why should I be angered by a few ashes?”

The great do not regard themselves; look not for godliness in a self-conceited man. Eminence does not consist in outward show and vaunting words, nor dignity in hauteur and. pretension.

On the Day of Judgment thou wilt see in. Paradise him who sought truth and rejected vain pretension.

He who is headstrong and obdurate falleth headlong; if thou desire greatness, abandon pride.

DISCOURSE ON CONCEIT

Expect not him who is possessed of worldly vanities to follow the path of religion, nor look for godliness in him who wallows in conceit.

If thou desire dignity, do not, like the mean, regard thy fellows with contemptuous eyes.

Seek no position more honourable than that of being known to the world as a man of laudable character.

Thou deemest him not great who, being of equal rank, is haughty towards thee; when thou makest a similar display before others, dost thou not appear before them as the arrogant appear before thee?

If thou art eminent, laugh not, if thou art wise, at them that are lowly. Many have fallen. from high whose places have been taken by the fallen.

Though thou be free from defect, revile not me who am full of blemishes.

One holds the chain of the Kaba temple in his hands; another lies drunken in the tavern.

If God call the latter, who can drive him away? If He expel the former, who can bring him back? The one cannot implore the divine help by reason of his good deeds, nor is the door of repentance closed upon the other.

STORY OF THE DARWESH AND THE PROUD CADI

À poorly-clad doctor of law and divinity sat one day in the front row of seats in a Cadi’s court. The Cadi gave him a sharp look, whereupon the usher took the man by the arm and said: “Get up; dost thou not know that the best place is not for such as thee? Either take a lower seat, or remain standing, or leave the court altogether. Be not so bold as to occupy the seat of the great. If thou art humble, pose not as a lion. Not every one is worthy of the chief seat; honour is proportionate to rank, and rank to merit.”

He who sits with honour in a place lower than that of which he is worthy falls not with ignominy from eminence.

Fuming with anger, the doctor moved to a lower seat. Two advocates in the court then entered into a spirited discussion, and flew at each other with their tongues like fighting-cocks with beak and claw. They were involved in a complicated knot which neither could unravel. From the last row of seats the tattered doctor roared out with the voice of a lion in the forest.

“It is not the veins of the neck that should stand out in argument,” he said, “but the proofs, which should be full of meaning. I, too, have the faculty of argument.”

“Speak on,” they answered.

With the quill of eloquence that he possessed, the doctor engraved his words upon the minds of his listeners like inscriptions on a signet-ring; and, drawing his pen through the letters of pretension, he invoked applause from every corner. So hard did he drive the steed of speech that the Cadi lagged behind like an ass in the mire. Removing his cloak and turban, the latter sent them to the doctor as a token of his respect.

“Alas!” he said, “I did not discern thy merit, nor welcome thee on thy arrival. I regret to see thee in this condition with such a stock of knowledge.”

The usher then approached the stranger courteously in order that he might place the Cadi’s turban upon his head. But the doctor repelled him with his hands and tongue, saying:

“Place not upon my head the fetters of pride, for to-morrow this fifty-yarded turban would turn my head from those in jaded garb. Those who called me ‘lord’ and ‘chief’ would then appear insignificant in mine eyes. Is pure water different whether it be contained in a. goblet of gold or an earthen ewer? A man’s head requires brain and intellect, not an imposing turban like thine. A big head does not make one worthy; it is like the gourd, void of kernel. Be not proud because of thy turban and beard, for the one is cotton and the other grass. One should aim at the degree of eminence that is conformable with one’s merit. With all this intellect, I will not call thee man, though a. hundred slaves walk behind thee. How well spoke the shell when a greedy fool picked it out of the mire: ‘None will buy me for the smallest price: be not so insane as to wrap me up in silk?

A man is not better than his fellows by reason of his wealth, for an ass, though covered with a satin cloth, is still an ass.”

In this way the clever doctor washed the rancour from his heart with the water of words. Thus do those who are aggrieved speak harshly. Be not idle when thine enemy has fallen. Dash out his brains when thou art able, for delay will efface the grudge from thy mind.

So overcome was the Cadi by his vehemence that he exclaimed, “Verily, this day is a hard one.” He bit his fingers in amazement, and his eyes stared at the doctor like the two stars near the pole of the lesser bear. As for the latter, he went abruptly out and was never seen there again. They in the court clamoured to know whence such an impertinent fellow had come. An official went in search of him, and ran in all directions, asking whether a man of that description had been seen. Some one said: “We know no one in this city so eloquent as Sadi.”

A hundred thousand praises to him who said so; see how sweetly he uttered the bitter truth!

STORY OF THE HONEY-SELLER

A man of smiling countenance sold honey,. captivating the hearts of all by his pleasant manner. His customers were as numerous as flies around the sugar-cane — if he had sold poison people would have bought it for honey.

A forbidding-looking man regarded him with envy, being jealous of the way his business. prospered. One day he paraded the town with a tray of honey on his head and a scowl on his face. He wandered about crying his wares, but no one evinced desire to buy. At nightfall, having earned no money, he went and sat dejectedly in a corner, with a face as bitter as that of a sinner fearful of retribution.

The wife of one of his neighbours jokingly remarked: “Honey is bitter to one of sour temper.”

It is wrong to eat bread at the table of one whose face is as wrinkled with frowns as the cloth on which it is served.

O sir! add not to thine own burdens, for an evil temper brings disaster in its train.

If thou hast not a sweet tongue like Sadi; thou hast neither gold nor silver.

STORY ILLUSTRATING THE FORBEARANCE OF GOOD MEN

I have heard that a debased drunkard caught a pious man by the collar. The latter received his blows in silence, and in forbearance lifted not his head.

A passer-by remarked: “Art thou not a man? It is a pity to be patient with this ignorant fellow.”

The pious man replied: “Speak not thus to me. A foolish drunkard collars one by the neck in the thought that he is fighting with a lion; there is no fear that a learned man will contend with an inebriated fool.”

The virtuous follow this rule in life — when they suffer oppression they display kindness.

STORY ILLUSTRATING THE NOBLE-MINDEDNESS OF MEN

A dog bit the leg of a hermit with such violence that venom dropped from its teeth, and the poor man could not sleep all night through pain.

His little daughter chided him, saying: “Hast thou not teeth as well?”

The unfortunate parent wept, and then smilingly replied: “Dear child! Although I was stronger than the dog, I restrained my anger. Should I receive a sword-blow on the head, I could not apply my teeth to the legs of a dog.”

One can revenge oneself upon the mean, but a man cannot act like a dog.

STORY OF A KIND MASTER AND HIS DISOBEDIENT SLAVE

An eminent man, famous for his many virtues, possessed a slave of evil disposition, who in ugliness of feature surpassed every one in the city. He closely attended his master at meal-times, but he would not have given a drop of water to a dying man. Neither reproof nor the rod influenced him; the house was in a constant state of disorder through him. Sometimes, in his bad temper, would he litter the paths with thorns and rubbish; at other times, throw the chickens down the well. His unhappy temperament was written on his face, and never did he perform a task successfully.

Some one asked his master: “What is there that thou likest in this slave — his agreeable manners, or his skill, or beauty? Surely, it is not worth while to keep such an unruly knave and burden thyself with such an affliction. I will procure for thee a slave of handsome appearance and good character. Take this one to the slave-market and sell him. If a price is offered for him, do not refuse it, for he would be dear at that.”

The good-natured man smiled and said: “O friend! although the character of my slave is certainly bad, my character is improved by him, for when I have learned to tolerate his manner I shall be able to put up with anything at the hands of others. It were not humane to sell him and thus make known his faults. And it is better to endure his affliction myself than to pass him on to others.”

Accept for thyself what thou wouldst accept for others. If distressed thyself, involve not thy fellows.

Forbearance is at first like poison, but when engrained in the nature it becomes like honey.

STORY OF MARUF KARCHI 22 AND THE SICK TRAVELLER

No one follows the path of Maruf Karchi who does not first banish the idea of fame from his head.

A traveller once came to Maruf’s house at the point of death — his life was joined to his body by a single hair. He passed the night in wailing and lamentation, sleeping not himself nor permitting any one else to sleep by reason of his groans. His mind was distressed and his temper was vile; though he died not himself, he killed many by his fretting. Such was his restlessness that every one flew from him. Maruf Karchi alone remained. He, like a brave man, girt his loins and sat up many nights in attendance at the sick man’s bedside. But one night Maruf was attacked by sleep — how long can a sleepless man keep up?

As soon as the invalid saw him asleep he began to rave: “Cursed be thy abominable race!” he cried: “what knows this glutton, intoxicated with sleep, of the helpless man who has not closed his eyes?”

Maruf took no notice of these words, but one of the women of the harem, overhearing them, remarked: “Didst thou not hear what that wailing beggar said? Turn him out, and tell him to take his abuse with him and die elsewhere. Kindness and compassion have their occasions, but to do good to the evil is evil; only a fool plants trees in barren soil. A grateful dog is better than an ungrateful man.”

Maruf laughed: Dear woman,” he replied, “be not offended at his ungracious words. If he rave at me through sickness, I am not angered. When thou art strong and well thyself, bear gratefully the burdens of the weak. If thou cherish the tree of kindness, thou wilt assuredly eat of the fruits of a good name.”

They attain to dignity who rid themselves of arrogance.

He who worships grandeur is the slave of pride; he knows not that greatness consists in meekness.

STORY ILLUSTRATING THE FOLLY OF THE IGNOBLE

An impudent fellow begged of a pious man, but the latter had no money in his house. Otherwise, would he have showered gold upon him like dust. The infamous rascal, therefore, went out and began to abuse him in the street.

The eye of the fault-finder sees no merits. What regard has he who has acted dishonourably for the honour of another?

Being informed of his words, the pious man smiled and said: “It is well; this man has enumerated only a few of my bad qualities — only one out of a hundred that are known to me. The evil that he leas supposed in me I know for certain that I possess. Only one year has he been acquainted with me; how can he know the faults of seventy years? None but the Omniscient knows my faults better than myself. Never have I known one who has attributed to me so few defects. If he bear witness against me in the Day or Judgment, I shall have no fear. If he who thinks ill of me seek to reveal my faults, tell him to come and take the record from me.”

Be humble when the veil is torn from off thy character. If a pitcher were made of the dust of men, the calumnious would shatter it with stones.

STORY OF ONE WHO HAD A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE

A certain man knew something of astronomy and his head, in consequence, was filled with pride. Journeying far, he visited Kushyar, 23 the sage, who turned his eyes from him and would teach him nothing. When the disappointed traveller was on the point of leaving, Kushyar addressed him with these words:

“Thou imaginest that thou art full of knowledge. How can a vessel that is full receive of more? Rid thyself of thy pretensions, so that thou mayest be filled. Being full of vanity, thou goest empty.”

STORY ILLUSTRATING THE HUMILITY OF THE PIOUS

Some one heard the barking of a dog in the ruined hut of a pious man. Reflecting upon the strangeness of the fact, he went and searched, but found no traces of a dog. In truth, the devotee alone was in the house.

Not wishing his curiosity to be revealed, the man was departing, when the owner of the house cried out: “Come in; why standest thou upon the door? Knowest thou not, O friend, that I it was who barked? When I discerned that humility was acceptable to God, I banished pride and vanity from my heart, and clamoured with barks at the door of God, for I saw none more lowly than a dog.”

If thou desire to attain to dignity, let humility be thy path.

Behold, when the dew lies low upon the earth, the sun doth raise it to the skies.

STORY ILLUSTRATING THE VALUE OF SOFT WORDS

The slave of a king escaped, and, though a search was made, was not discovered. Later, when the fugitive returned, the king, in anger, ordered that he should be put to death.

When the executioner brought out his scimitar, like the tongue of a thirsty man, the despondent slave cried out:

O God! I forgive the king the shedding of my blood, for I have ever enjoyed his bounty and shared in his prosperity. Let him not suffer for this deed on the Day of Judgment, to the delight of his enemies.”

When the king heard these words his anger was appeased, and he appointed the slave to be an officer of the standard.

The moral of this story is that soft speech acts like water on the fires of wrath. Do not the soldiers on the battle-field wear armour consisting of a hundred folds of silk?

O friend! be humble when thou dealest with a fierce foe, for gentleness will blunt the sharpest sword.

STORY ILLUSTRATING THE WISDOM OF FEIGNING DEAFNESS

Many writers affirm the falsity of the idea that Hatim was deaf.

One morning his attention was attracted by the buzzing of a fly, which had become ensnared in a spider’s web. “O thou,” he observed, “who art fettered by thine own avarice, be patient. Wherever there be a tempting bait, huntsman and snare are close at hand.”

One of his disciples remarked: “Strange it is that thou couldst hear the buzzing of a fly that hardly reached our ears. No longer can: they call thee deaf.”

The Sheikh replied: “Deafness is better than the hearing of idle words. Those that sit with me in private are prone to conceal my faults and parade my virtues; thus, do they make me vain. I feign deafness that I may be spared their flattery. When my assumed affliction has become known to them they will speak freely of that which is good and bad in me; then, being grieved at the recital of my faults, I shall abstain from evil.”

Go not down a well by a rope of praise. Be deaf, like Hatim, and listen to the words of them that slander thee.

STORY ILLUSTRATING FORBEARANCE FOR THE SAKE OF FRIENDS

A certain man, whose heart was as pure as Sadi’s, fell in love. Although taunted by his enemies in consequence, he showed no anger.

Some one asked him: “Hast thou no sense of shame? Art thou not sensible to these indignities? It is abject to expose oneself to ridicule, and weak to endure patiently the scoffs of enemies. To overlook the errors of the, ignorant is wrong, lest it be said that thou hast neither strength nor courage.”

How elegantly did the distracted lover make reply! His words are worthy to be writ in letters of gold:

“Alone in my heart there dwelleth affection for my loved one; thus, it contains no room. for malice.”

STORY OF LUQMAN, 24 THE SAGE

I have heard that Luqman was of dark complexion and careless of his appearance. Some one mistook him for a slave, and employed him in digging trenches at Baghdad. Thus he continued for a year, no one suspecting who he was. When the truth was known the master was afeared, and fell at Luqman’s feet, offering excuses.

The sage smiled and said: “Of what use are these apologies? For a year my heart has bled through thine oppression. How can II forget that in one hour? But I forgive thee, good man, for thy gain has caused to me no loss. Thou hast built thy house; my wisdom and knowledge have increased. I, too, possess a slave, and frequently set him to arduous labour. Nevermore, when I remember the hardships of my toil, will I afflict him.”

He who has not suffered at the hands of the strong grieves not at the frailness of the weak.

If thou be sorrowed by those above thee, be not harsh with thine inferiors.

CHAPTER V. Concerning Resignation

Happiness comes from the favour of God, not from the might of the powerful. If the heavens bestow not fortune, by no valour can it be obtained.

The ant suffers not by reason of its weakness; the tiger eats not by virtue of its strength.

Since the hand reaches not to the skies, accept as inevitable the fortune that it brings.

If thy life is destined to be long, no snake nor sword will harm thee; when the fated day of death arrives, the antidote will kill thee no less than the poison.

STORY OF A SOLDIER OF ISFAHAN

In Isfahan I had a friend who was warlike, spirited, and shrewd. His hands and dagger were for ever stained with blood. The hearts of his enemies were consumed by fear of him; even the tigers stood in awe of him. In battle he was like a sparrow among locusts; in combat, sparrows and men were alike to him. Had he made an attack upon Faridun, he would not have given the latter time to draw his sword. Neither in bravery nor magnanimity had he an. equal.

This warrior formed a liking for my company; but as I was not destined to remain in Isfahan, Fate transferred me from Iraq to Syria, in which holy land my staying was agreeable. After some time the desire for my home attracted me, so I returned to Iraq.

One night, the memory of the sepoy passed through my mind; the salt of his friendship opened the wounds of my gratitude, for I had eaten salt from his hand. To meet him, I. went to Isfahan, and inquired as to where he lived.

I chanced upon him. He who had been a youth had become old; his form, once erect as. an arrow, had become as a bow. Like a hoary mountain, his head was covered with snowy hair; Time had conquered him and twisted the wrist of his bravery. The pride of his strength had gone; the head of weakness was upon his knees,

“O tiger-seizer!” I exclaimed, “what has made thee decrepit like an old fox?”

He laughed and said: “Since the day of the battle of Tartary, I have expelled the thoughts of fighting from my head. Then did I see the earth arrayed with spears like a forest of reeds. I raised like smoke the dust of conflict; but when Fortune does not favour, of what avail is fury? I am one who, in combat, could take with a spear a ring from the palm of the hand; but, as my star did not befriend me, they encircled me as with a ring. I seized the opportunity of flight, for only a fool strives with Fate. How could my helmet and cuirass aid me when my bright star favoured me not? When the key of victory is not in the hand, no one can break open the door of conquest with his arms.

“The enemy were a pack of leopards, and as strong as elephants. The heads of the heroes were encased in iron, as were also the hoofs of the horses. We urged on our Arab steeds like a cloud, and when the two armies encountered each other thou wouldst have said they had struck the sky down to the earth. From the raining of arrows, that descended like hail, the storm of death arose in every corner. Not one of our troops came out of the battle but his cuirass was soaked with blood. Not that our swords were blunt — it was the vengeance of stars of ill fortune. Overpowered, we surrendered, like a fish which, though protected by scales, is caught by the hook in the bait. Since Fortune averted her face, useless was our shield against the arrows of Fate.”

STORY OF THE DOCTOR AND THE VILLAGER

One night a villager could not sleep owing to a pain in his side. A doctor said: “This pain is caused by his having eaten the leaves of the vine. I shall be astonished if he lasts through the night, for the arrows of a Tartar in his breast were better for him than the eating of such indigestible food.”

That night the doctor died; forty years have since passed, and villager yet lives.

STORY OF THE VILLAGER AND HIS ASS

The ass of a villager died, so he set the head upon a vine in his garden in order that it might ward off the Evil Eye.

A sage old man passed by and laughingly remarked: “Dost think, O friend, this will effect thy purpose? In life, the ass could not protect itself from blows; so, in weakness, did it die.”

What knows the physician of the condition of the sick, when, helpless, he himself will die through illness?

STORY ILLUSTRATING LUCK

A poor man dropped a dinar in the road. He searched much, but at last, despairing, abandoned the attempt.

Some one came along and found the coin by chance.

God and ill fortune are predestined. Our daily portion depends not upon our strength and efforts, for those who are strongest and strive the most stand often in the direst need.

STORY OF ONE WHO BLAMED HIS DESTINY

There was once a rich and prosperous man named Bakhtyar. The wife of one of his neighbours, who was in the other extreme of poverty, upbraided her husband one night when he went to her empty-handed, saying: “No one is so poor and unfortunate as thee. Take a lesson from thy neighbours, who are well-to-do. Why art thou not fortunate, like them?”

The man replied: “I am incapable of aught; quarrel not with Fate. I have not been endowed with the power to make myself a Bakhtyar.” 25

STORY OF A DARWESH AND HIS WIFE

A Darwesh remarked to his wife, who was of ill-favoured countenance: “Since Fate has made thee ugly, do not encrust thy face with cosmetic.”

Who can attain good fortune by force! Who, with collyrium, can make the blind to see?

Not one among the philosophers of Greece or Rome could produce honey from the thorn.

Wild beasts cannot become men; education is wasted upon them.

A mirror can be freed from stain, but it cannot be made from a stone.

Roses do not blossom on the branches of the willow; hot baths never yet made an Ethiop white.

Since one cannot escape the arrows of Fate, resignation is the only shield.

STORY OF A VULTURE AND A KITE

A vulture said to a kite: “No one can see so far as I.”

“Possibly,” replied the kite; “but what canst thou see across the desert?”

Gazing down, the vulture exclaimed: “Yonder do I see a grain of wheat.”

Thereupon, they flew to the ground. When the vulture settled upon the wheat he became caught in a trap. He had not known that, through his eating the grain, Fate would ensnare him by the neck.

Not every oyster contains a pearl; not every archer hits the target.

“Of what use,” the kite inquired, “was it to see the grain when thou couldst not discern the trap of thine enemy?”

“Caution,” said the captive vulture, “availeth not with Destiny.”

When the decrees of past eternity are brought to action, the keenest eyes are rendered blind by Fate.

In the ocean, where no shore-line appears, the swimmer strives in vain.

STORY OF A CAMEL

A young camel said to its mother: “After thou hast made a journey, rest awhile.”

“If the bridle were in my hands,” was the reply, “no one would ever see me in the string of camels with a load upon my back.”

Fate is the helmsman of the ship of life, no, matter though the owner rend his clothes.

O Sadi! look not for aid from any man. God is the giver, and He alone. If thou worship Him, the door of His mercy sufficeth thee; if He drive thee away, no one will ease thee. If He make thee to wear a crown, raise thy head; if not, bow thy head in despair.

DISCOURSE CONCERNING HYPOCRISY

Who knows that thou art not pledged to, God even though thou standest in prayer without ablution?

That prayer is the key to hell which thou performest only before the eyes of men.

If the high-road of thy life lead to aught but God, thy prayer-mat will be thrown into the fire.

He whose heart is good and makes no outward show of piety is better than one of outward sanctity whose heart is false.

A night-prowling robber is better than a sinner in the tunic of a saint.

Expect not wages from Omar, O son, when thou workest in the house of Zaid.

If in private I am bad and mean, of what avail is it to pose before the world with honour? How much will the bag of hypocrisy weigh in the Scales of Justice?

The outside of the hypocrite’s coat is neater than the lining, for the one is seen and the other is hidden.

CHAPTER VI. Concerning Contentment

He knows not God nor performs His worship who is not contented with his lot.

Contentment maketh a man rich — tell this to the avaricious.

O irresolute one! be tranquil, for grass grows not upon revolving stones.

Pamper not thy body if thou be a man of sense, for in so doing dost thou seek thine own destruction.

The wise acquire virtue, and they that pamper their bodies are devoid of merit.

Eating and sleeping is the creed of animals; to adopt it is the manner of fools.

Happy is that fortunate man who, in meditation, prepares for the last journey by means of the knowledge of God.

To him who knows not the darkness from the light the face of a demon is as that of a Houri.26

How can the falcon fly to the sky when the stone of avarice is tied to its wing?

If thou pay less attention to thy food than to worship thou mayest become an angel. First cultivate the qualities of a man, then reflect upon the character of angels.

Eat in proportion to thy hunger; how can he give praises who scarce can breathe by reason of his gluttony?

He whose stomach is full is void of wisdom. The prey is entrapped in the snare because of its greed.

STORY OF THE KING OF KHWARAZM 27

A covetous man paid an early morning visit to the king of Khwarazm, and twice prostrated himself to the ground before him.

“Tell me, O father,” his son inquired, “didst thou not say that Mecca was thy place of worship? Why didst thou to-day repeat thy prayers before the king?”

Contentment exalteth the head; that which is full of avarice comes no higher than the shoulder.

He who has wrapped up the volume of his avarice needs not to write to any one, I am thy slave and servant.”

By begging wilt thou be driven from every assembly; drive it from thyself, so that no one may drive thee away.

CONCERNING THE EVIL OF OVER-EATING

Some said to a pious man who was stricken with fever: “Ask for some conserve of roses from such a one.”

“Oh, friend!” he replied, “it were better to die in bitterness than to endure the affliction of his sour face.”

A wise man does not eat conserve of roses from the hand of one whose face has been soured by pride.

Pursue not that which thy heart desires, for the pampering of the body destroys the fires of life.

The gluttonous man bears the weight of his corpulence; if he obtain not food, he bears the weight of grief. It is better that the stomach should be empty than the mind.

STORY OF A GLUTTON

In company with some religious mendicants I entered a date-grove in Busra. One of the party was a glutton. He, having girt his loins, climbed up a tree, and, falling headlong, died.

The headsman of the village asked, “Who killed this man?”

“Go softly, friend,” I answered; “he fell from a branch— ’twas the weight of his stomach.”

STORY OF A RECLUSE

The Amir of Tartary presented a silken robe to an elderly recluse, who, putting it on, kissed the hand of the messenger, and said: “A thousand praises to the king! Excellent is this splendid robe, but I prefer my own patched habit.”

If thou hast relinquished the world, sleep upon the bare ground — kiss it not before any one for the sake of a costly carpet.

STORY ILLUSTRATING THE EVIL OF AVARICE

To a poor man who had naught to eat but bread and onions, a foolish man remarked:

“Go, wretched man, and bring some cooked meat from the public feast. Ask boldly and be not afraid of any one, for he who is modest must go without his share.”

Acting on this advice, the beggar put on his cloak and started off. The servants of the feast tore off his clothes and broke his arm.

Weeping, he cried: “Oh my soul! What remedy is there for one’s own actions? One seized by avarice becomes the seeker of his own misfortunes. After this, the bread and onions are good enough for me.”

A barley loaf procured by the exertions of one’s own arm is better than a loaf of flour from the table of the liberal.”

STORY OF AN AMBITIOUS CAT

A cat who lived in the house of an old woman of humble circumstances wandered to the palace of a noble, whose slaves repulsed the animal with arrows.

Bleeding from many wounds, the cat ran off in terror, thus reflecting: “Since I have escaped from the hands of those slaves, the mice in the ruined hut of the old woman are good enough for me.”

Honey is not worth the price of a sting; better it is to be content with the syrup of dates than expose oneself to that.

God is not pleased with him who is not contented with his lot.

STORY OF A SHORT-SIGHTED MAN AND HIS HIGHMINDED WIFE

A certain child having cut its teeth, the father bent his head in anxious thought and said: How can I obtain the bread and food of which the child will now have need?”

“Be not alarmed,” his wife replied, “for, until our child shall die, He who gave him teeth will send him bread. A rich man provides for his slave; why should not He who created the slave do likewise? Thou hast not the trust in God that the purchased slave reposes in his. master.”

I have heard that in olden times stones became silver in the hands of saints. Think not that this is contrary to reason — when thou hast become contented, silver and stones will be as one to thee.

Say to the devotee who worships kings that a king is poorer than a darwesh.

A dinar satisfies a beggar; Faridun was but half content with the whole of the kingdom of Persia.

A beggar free from care is better off than a troubled king.

The villager and his wife sleep more happily than the king ever did in his palace.

Though one be a king and the other a cotton-carder, when they sleep in death the night of both becomes day.

When thou seest a rich man filled with pride, go and give thanks, O thou who art poor, that thou, praise be to God! hast not the power to inflict injury upon any one.

STORY OF A HOLY MAN WHO BUILT A HOUSE

A holy man built a house as high as his own stature. Some one said to him: “I know thee able to erect a better house than this.”

“Enough,” he cried, “what need have I of a lofty roof? This that I have built is high enough for a dwelling which I must leave at death.”

Set not thy house in the path of a flood,28 O slave, for never will it be perfected.

STORY OF A SHEIKH WHO BECAME KING

A certain king died, and, having no heir, bequeathed the throne to a venerable sheikh. When the recluse heard the roar of the drums -of empire, he desired no longer the corner of seclusion. He led the army to left and right, and became so strong and valiant that he filled the hearts of the brave with fear.

After he had slain a number of his enemies some others combined together against him and reduced him to such straits in his fortified town that he sent a message to a pious man, saying: Aid me with thy prayers, for the sword and arrow do not avail.”

The devotee laughed and said: Why did he not content himself with half a loaf and his vigils? Did not the wealth-worshipping Korah 29 know that the treasure of safety lies in the corner of retirement?”

DISCOURSE CONCERNING RICHES

The generous man may attain to perfection although he possess not gold.

Dost think that if a mean man became a Korah his sordid nature would be changed?

If he who trades in liberality obtain not bread, his nature remains yet rich.

Generosity is the soil, and riches the seed that is sown; give, that the root may not be destitute of a branch.

Exert not thyself in the amassing of wealth,. for evil is the smell of stagnant water; strive,. rather, to be generous, for running water becomes a flood.

The miser who falls from position and wealth but seldom stands a second time upon. his feet.

If thou be a precious jewel, 30 grieve not, for Time will not pass thee by; it is the brickbat by the wayside that goes unheeded. Shavings of gold that fall from the scissors are searched, fog with a candle.

CHAPTER VII. Concerning Education

Those who turn the reins of their desires from unlawful things have surpassed Rustam 31 and Sam 32 in valour.

None is so fearful of the enemy as thou, slave of thine own passions.

The earthly body is a city, containing both good and evil; thou art the King and Reason is thy wise minister.

In this city, the headstrong men pursue their trades of avarice and greed; Resignation and Temperance are the citizens of fame and virtue; Lust and Wantonness the thieves and pick-pockets.

When the king shows favour to the wicked, how can the wise remain in peace?

The passions of evil, envy, and hatred are inherent in thee as is the blood of thy veins. If these thine enemies gained in strength they would turn their heads from thy rule and counsel; no resistance do they offer when they see the mailed fist of Reason.

Night-thieves and vagabonds wander not in the places where the patrols guard.

The chief who punishes not his enemy is bereft of power by the strength of the latter.

More on this point I will not speak — a word suffices to him who puts into practice what he reads.

DISCOURSE CONCERNING THE EXCELLENCE OF TACITURNITY

Be silent, O thou who knowest many things! for he that speaketh little will be free from reproach on the Day of Judgment.

The man of many words is deaf; no counsel does he heed like silence.

When thou desirest continually to speak thou findest no sweetness in the speech of others.

Those who reflect upon right and wrong are better than triflers with ready answers.

He that speaks little thou dost never see ashamed; a grain of musk is better than a heap of mud.

Beware of the fool whose volume of words is as that of ten men — a hundred arrows shot and each one wide of the target. If thou art wise, shoot one, and that one straight.

Utter not slander before a wall — oft may it happen that behind are listening ears.

Enclose thy secrets within the city walls of thy mind, and beware that none may find the gates of thy city open.

A wise man sews up his mouth: the candle: is burned by means of its wick.

STORY CONCERNING THE KEEPING OF SECRETS

Takash, king of Persia, imparted a secret to his slaves, adding, “Tell it not to any one.” For a year they kept the secret in their hearts; in one day it became diffused throughout the world.

The king ordered the slaves to be executed. One among them begged for mercy, saying: “Kill not thy slaves, for the fault was thine. Thou didst not dam up that secret when it was a spring: why seek to arrest its course now that it has become a flood?”

Entrust jewels to treasurers, but be the keeper of thine own secrets. Thou hast the power until the word be spoken; then, does it gain mastery over thee.

Speech is a demon confined in the well of the mind: leave it not free on thy palate and tongue. When the genii has escaped from the cage, no stratagem will bring him back.

STORY ILLUSTRATING THE FACT THAT SILENCE IS BEST FOR FOOLS

There was once in Egypt a religious mendicant who never opened his mouth in speech. Wise men assembled around him from far and near, like moths around a candle.

One night, he reflected: “Merit is concealed beneath a silent tongue. If I remain thus silent, how will men know that I am learned?”

Therefore he indulged in speech, and his friends and enemies alike found him to be the most ignorant man in Egypt. His followers dispersed and his glory vanished. So he went on a journey and wrote on the wall of a mosque: “Had I but seen myself in the mirror of understanding I should not imprudently have torn the veil from off my mind. Although deformed, I exposed my figure in the thought that I was handsome.”

A little-talker has a high reputation.

Silence is dignity, and the concealer of blemishes.

Express not in haste the thoughts of thy mind, for thou canst reveal them when thou wilt.

The beasts are silent, and men are endowed with speech — idle talkers are worse than the beasts.

STORY ILLUSTRATING THE FOLLY OF IMPERTINENCE

In the course of a dispute some one uttered improper words and was, in consequence, seized and nearly throttled.

“O thou conceited fellow!” said an experienced man, if thy mouth had been closed like a bud, thou wouldst not have seen thy skirt torn like a flower.”

Dost thou not see that fire is nothing but a flame, which at any moment can be quenched with water?

If a man possess merit, the merit speaks for itself, not the owner of the merit.

If thou hast not the purest musk, claim not to possess it; if thou hast, it makes itself known by its perfume.

DISCOURSE ON SLANDER

Speak no evil concerning the good or the wicked, for thus thou wrongest the former and makest an enemy of the latter.

Know that he who defames another revealeth his own faults.

If thou speak evil of any one, thou art sinful, even though what thou sayest be true.

STORY CONCERNING THE SAME SUBJECT

To one who stretched his tongue in slander, a wise man said: “Speak not evil of any one before me, so that I may not think ill of thee. Although his dignity is lowered, thine own honour is not increased thereby.”

WHY THIEVING IS BETTER THAN SLANDERING

Some one said: “Thieving is better than back-biting.”

I replied: “That is strange to me. What good seest thou in thieving that thou givest it preference to slander?”

“Thieves,” he explained, live by virtue of their strength and daring. The slanderer sins and reaps nothing.”

SADI AND HIS ENVIOUS CLASS-FRIEND

A fellow-student at Nizamiah displayed malevolence towards me, and I informed my tutor, saying: “Whenever I give more proper answers than he the envious fellow becomes offended.”

The professor replied: The envy of thy friend is not agreeable to thee, but I know not who told thee that back-biting was commendable. If he seek perdition through the path of envy, thou wilt join him by the path of slander.”

STORY OF SADI’S CHILDHOOD

When a child, unable to distinguish between right and wrong, I once resolved to fast, and a certain devout man thus taught me to perform my ablutions and devotions: “First,” he said, “repeat the name of God, according to the law of the Prophet; secondly, make a vow; and thirdly, wash the palms of the hands. Then wash thy nose and mouth three times and rub thy front teeth with thy forefinger, for a tooth-brush is forbidden when fasting. After that, throw three handfuls of water upon thy face; then wash thy hands and arms up to the elbows and repeat thy prayers by the telling of -cads and the recital of the attributes and praises of God. Lastly, wipe again thy head and wash thy feet — thus end in the name of God.”

“No one,” added the old man, “knows the form of ablution better than myself. Dost thou not see that the elder of the village has become decrepit?”

Hearing these words, the elder cried: “O impious wretch! Didst thou not say that the use of a tooth-brush was unlawful in fasting? — I suppose, then, that slander is lawful? Before thou settest about a fast, wash first thy mouth of improper words.”

STORY OF A SUFI’S REBUKE

Some Sufis were sitting together in private, when one of them opened his mouth in slander.

“Didst thou ever make a crusade in Europe?” he was asked.

“Beyond the four walls of my house,” he replied, “I have never placed my feet.”

“Never have I met so unfortunate a man,” observed the questioner. “The infidel remains safe from his enmity, yet a Mussulman escapes not the violence of his tongue.”

CONCERNING ABSENT FRIENDS

In relation to an absent friend, two things are unlawful. The first is to squander his possession; the second, to speak evil of his name.

Look not for good words from him who mentions the names of men with scorn, for behind thy back he says those things which he said to thee of others.

He only is wise who concerns himself with his own affairs and is indifferent to the world.

WHERE SLANDER IS LAWFUL

Three persons only is it permissible to slander. The first is a tyrannical king who oppresses his subjects; it is lawful to speak of his misdeeds so that people may beware of him. The second is he who is shameless; deem it not a sin to speak ill of such a one, for by his own actions are his faults revealed. The third is he that gives false weight and is a cheat; say what thou knowest of his evil ways.

TALE-BEARERS WORSE THAN BACK-BITERS

Some one said to a pious man, “Knowest thou what such a one said concerning thee?”

“Silence!” he replied; “it is best not to know what an enemy said. Those who carry the words of an enemy are assuredly worse than the enemy himself. Only they convey the speech of an enemy to a friend who are in agreement with the enemy. Thou art worse than an enemy, for thou revealest what he said in private.”

A tale-bearer makes an old strife new; fly as far as thou art able from one who stirs up a dormant quarrel.

To be tied by the feet in a gloomy pit is better than to carry mischief from place to place.

A quarrel is like a fire which the talebearer feeds with fuel.

FARIDUN 33 AND HIS WISE VAZIER

Faridun had a vazier who was discerning and of enlightened mind.

Some one went to the king one day and said: “The vazier is thy secret enemy. There is not a person in the kingdom to whom he has not lent out gold and silver on the condition that at thy death the loans shall be repaid.”

Regarding the vazier with threatening mien, the king exclaimed:

“Thou appearest before me in the guise of a friend; why art thou my enemy at heart?”

The vazier kissed the ground as he replied: I desire, O renowned king, that all the people should be thy well-wishers. Since at thy death they must repay me, they will pray for thy long life from fear of me.”

Approving of this explanation, the king increased the dignities of the vazier, while no one was more ill-fated and changed in fortune than the tale-bearer.

It is not compatible with reason to kindle between two men the fire of strife and burn oneself in the flames.

DISCOURSE CONCERNING WIVES

That poor man is a king whose wife is obedient and chaste. Grieve not over the troubles of the day when at night the dispeller of thy sorrows is by thy side.

He has obtained his heart’s desire whose beloved is of the same mind as himself.

If a woman be pure and of kindly speech, regard neither her beauty nor her homeliness.

A woman of good nature is more to be-desired than one of beauty, for amiability conceals a multitude of flaws. Beware the ill-tempered fairy. May heaven grant protection from a bad woman!

Prison is preferable to a house full of frowns; travelling is a joy to him whose house contains. a woman of ugly mind.

Close the door of happiness upon that house whence the woman’s voice comes louder than her husband’s.

If thy wife take the road to the bazar, beat her, or sit thyself like a woman in thy house. Let her eyes be blind in the presence of strangers; when she goeth from thy house, let it be to the grave.

Take a new wife each Spring, O friend, for last year’s almanac serves no purpose.

To walk bare-footed is better than to wear tight shoes; the hardships of a journey are better than discord at home.

DISCOURSE ON THE TRAINING OF SONS

If thou desire that thy name should remain, train thy son in knowledge and wisdom, for if he possess not these thou diest obscure, with no one to commemorate thy name.

Teach him a handicraft, though thou be as. rich as Korah. Place no hope in the power that thou hast — riches may go from thee.

A bag of silver and gold is emptied; the purse of an artisan remains filled.

Dost thou not know how Sadi attained to rank? He journeyed not over the plains, nor crossed the seas. In his youth he served under the yoke of the learned: God granted him distinction in after-life. And it is not long before he who serves obtains command.

A boy who suffers not at the hands of his teacher suffers at the hands of Time.

Make thy son good and independent, so that he may not be beholden to any man.

Protect him from evil associates; and pity him not if he bring ruin and destruction upon himself, for it is better that a vicious son should .die before his father.

SADI REBUKED FOR HIS FAULT-FINDING

There was a certain young preacher who was learned and intelligent, a man of sanctity and a true worshipper. He was forcible in eloquence and correct in grammar, but his articulation was so faulty that he could not properly repeat the letters of the alphabet.

I said to a holy man: “The youth has not got his front teeth!”

“Speak not thus, “he replied. “Thou hast discerned his fault, but thine eyes are closed to his many virtues. Thorns and roses grow together; why regardest thou only the thorns? He who is of bad nature sees nothing in the peacock but its ugly feet.”

Expose not the faults of others, for thereby art thou forgetful of thine own failings.

Whether I be good or evil, keep thou silent, for I am the bearer of my own profit and loss, and God is better acquainted with my character than thou.

I seek no reward from thee for my virtues so that I may not be afflicted by thee by reason of my sins.

For every good act God will bestow, not one, but ten rewards. If thou see one virtue in a man, do thou pass over the ten faults that he hath.

Are not all things created the product of the art of God? — black they are and white, handsome and deformed. Not every eye and eyebrow that thou seest is good: eat the kernel of the nut and throw the husk away.

CHAPTER VIII. Concerning Gratitude

I cannot give thanks to that Friend, for I know of none that are worthy. Every hair of my body is a gift from Him; how could I. thank Him for every hair?

Praise be to the munificent Lord, Who from non-existence brought His creatures into being. Who can describe His goodness? All praises are encompassed by His glory.

See how from childhood to old age he has. endowed thee with a splendid robe!

He made thee pure; therefore, be pure — unworthy it is to die impured by sin.

Let not the dust remain upon the mirror, for once grown dull it never again will polish.

When thou dost seek to gain the means of life, rely not upon the strength of thine own. arms.

O self-worshipper! why lookest thou not to God, Who giveth power to thy hand?

If by thy striving thou dost aught of good, take not the credit to thyself; know it to be by the grace of God.

Thou standest not by thine own strength — from the Invisible art thou sustained each moment.

A MOTHER’S WARNING TO HER SON

Sorrowed at the conduct of her son, who gave no ear to her advice, a woman brought to him the cradle in which once he slept, and said!

O weak in love and forgetful of the past! Wast thou not a weeping and helpless child, for whom through many nights I sacrificed my sleep? Thou hadst not then the strength thou hast to-day; thou couldst not ward the flies from off thy body. A tiny insect gave thee pain: to-day thou excellent amidst the strong. In the grave wilt thou again be thus, unable to repel the onslaughts of an ant. How, when the grave-worms eat the marrow of thy brain, wilt thou relight the Lamp of Intellect? Thou art as a blind man who seeth not the way, and knoweth not that a well lies in his path. If thou be grateful for thy sight, ’tis well; if not, then surely art thou blind. Thy tutor gave thee not the power of wisdom; by God was it implanted in thy nature. Had He withheld this gift from thee,. truth would have appeared to thee as falsehood.”

DISCOURSE CONCERNING THE ART OF THE MOST HIGH GOD

For thee is set the bright moon in the sky by night, the world-illuminating sun by day.

Like a chamberlain, the heavens spread for thee the carpet of the Spring.

The wind and snow, the clouds and rain, the roaring thunder and the lightning glittering as a sword — all are His agents, obedient to His word, nourishing the seed that thou hast planted in the soil.

If thou be athirst, fret not; the clouds bear water upon their shoulders.

From the bee He giveth thee honey, and manna from the wind; fresh dates from the date-tree and the date-tree from a seed.

For thee are the sun and moon and the Pleiades; they are as lanterns upon the roof of thy house.

He bringeth roses from the thorn and musk from a pod; gold from the mine and green leaves from a withered stick.

With His own hands did He paint thine eye and eyebrows — one cannot leave one’s bosom friends to strangers.

Omnipotent is He, nourishing the delicate with His many bounties.

Render thanks each moment from thy heart, for gratitude is not the work of the tongue alone.

O God, my heart is blood, mine eyes are sore when I behold thy indescribable gifts.

DISCOURSE CONCERNING THE CONDITION OF THE WEAK

He knows not the value of a day of pleasure who has not seen adversity. Hard is the winter for the beggar — the rich man heeds it not. If thou art swift of foot, be thankful when thou lookest upon the lame.

What know they of the value of water who dwell upon the banks of the Jayhun? Ask it of them who are parched in the heat of the sun.

What cares the Arab by the Tigris for the thirsty ones of the desert?

He knows the value of health who lost his strength in fever. How can the night be long to thee reclining in ease upon thy bed? Think of him who is racked with fever — the sick man knows the tediousness of the night.

At the sound of the drum the master awakens — what knows he how the watchman passed the night?

STORY OF TUGHRAL, KING OF SHIRAZ, AND THE HINDU WATCHMAN

One night in winter Tughral passed by a Hindu sentinel, who was shivering like the star Canopus in the icy rain. Moved to pity, he said: “Thou shalt have my fur coat. Wait by the terrace and I will send it by the hand of a slave.”

On entering his palace he was met by a beautiful slave, at the sight of whom the poor sentinel passed from his mind. The fur coat slipped through the latter’s ears; through his ill-luck it never reached his shoulders.

The king slept through the night devoid of care; but what said the chief watchman to him in the morning? —

“Perhaps thou didst forget that ‘lucky man’ when thy hand was upon the bosom of thy slave. By thee the night was spent in tranquillity and joy; what knowest thou how the night has gone with us?”

They with the caravan bend their heads over the cauldron; what care they for them that toil on foot through the desert sand?

Tarry, O active youths, for old and feeble men are with the caravan. Well hast thou slept in the litter while the driver held the nose-string of the camel. What of the desert and mountains? what of the stones and the sand? Ask how it fares with them that lag behind.

STORY OF A THIEF

A thief was arrested by a night-watchman and bound by the hands. Thus, crestfallen and afflicted, he remained. During the night he heard some one cry out in want.

“How long wilt thou bewail thy lot?” he asked. “Go, sleep, O wretched man! give thanks to God that the watchman has not tied thee by the hands.”

Bemoan not thine own misfortune when thou seest another more wretched than thyself.

STORY OF ONE WHO WAS NOT WHAT HE SEEMED

Some one passed by a pious man whom he took for a Jew, and, therefore, struck him on the neck. The latter bestowed his robe upon the aggressor, who, becoming ashamed, remarked:

“I acted wrongly and thou hast forgiven me. But what occasion is this for a gift?”

“I stood not up in anger, “was the reply, “being thankful that I was not a Jew, as thou didst suppose.”

STORY OF A SAGE DONKEY

One left behind on the road wept, saying, “Who in this desert is more distressed than I?”

A pack-donkey answered: “O senseless man! how long wilt thou bewail the tyranny of fate? Go, and give thanks that, though thou ridest not upon a donkey, thou art not a donkey upon which men ride.”

STORY ILLUSTRATING THE EVILS OF PRIDE

A theologian passed by a drunkard who had fallen by the wayside. Filled with pride at his own piety, he disdained even to regard him.

The young man raised his head and said: Go, old man, and give thanks that thou art in the Divine favour — misfortune comes from pride. Laugh not when thou seest one in bonds lest thou likewise became involved. After all, is it not within the bounds of possibility that tomorrow thou mayest fall, like me, by the roadside?”

If with a mosque the heavens have befriended thee, revile not them that worship in the fire-temple.

O Mussulman! fold thy hands and render thanks that He has not bound the idolater’s thread about thy waist.

Turn to Him who guides the hand of Fate; blindness it is to look for help elsewhere.

STORY OF SADI AND THE IDOLATERS

At Sumanat 34 I saw an ivory idol. It was set with jewels like the Manat, and nothing more beautiful could have been devised. Caravans from every country brought travellers to its side; the eloquent from every clime made supplication before its lifeless figure.

“Why,” I pondered, “does a living being worship an inanimate object?”

To a fire-worshipper, who was a fellow-lodger and friend of mine, I said with gentleness: “O Brahmin! I am astonished at the doings of this place. All are infatuated with this feeble form; they are imprisoned in the well of superstition. No power has the idol to move its hands or feet; if thou throw it down, it cannot rise from its place. Dost thou not see that its eyes are of amber? — it were folly to seek faithfulness from the stony-eyed.”

The Brahmin was angered at my words; he became my enemy, and informed the idolaters of what I had said. Since to them the crooked road appeared straight, they saw the straight one crooked. Though a man be wise and intelligent, he is a fool in the eyes of the ignorant.

Like a drowning man, I was destitute of help; save in politeness, I saw no remedy. When the fool bears malice towards thee, safety lies in gentleness and resignation.

Therefore, I praised aloud the chief of the Brahmins, saying: “O old man! expounder of the Asta and Zend! I, too, am pleased with the figure of this idol. Its appearance was strange in my sight — of its nature I have no knowledge. Only recently have I arrived in this place, and a stranger can seldom distinguish between the evil and the good. Devotion by imitation is superstition: what reality is there in the form of this idol, for I am foremost among the worshippers?”

The face of the Brahmin glowed with joy as he said: “Thy question is reasonable and thy actions are good — whoever seeks for proofs arrives at his destination. Who but this idol can raise his hands to God? If thou wilt, tarry here to-night, so that to-morrow the mystery of this may become known to thee.”

The night was as long as the Day of Judgment; the fire-worshippers around me prayed without ablution. In the morning, they came again into the temple, and I was sick with anger and confused from lack of sleep. Suddenly, the idol raised its arm; and later, when the crowd had left, the Brahmin looked smilingly towards me, saying:

“I know that now thou wilt have no doubts; truth has become manifest, falsehood remaineth not.”

Seeing his ignorance thus increased, I shed hypocritical tears and cried: I am sorry for what I said.”

At the sight of my tears the hearts of the infidels were softened; they ran towards me in service, and led me by the arms to the ivory idol, which was seated upon a golden chair set on a throne of teak. I kissed the hand of the little god — curses upon it and upon its worshippers! For a few days I posed as an infidel and discussed the Zend, like a Brahmin. When I became a guardian of the temple my joy was such that I could scarce control my feelings.

One night, I closed fast the door of the temple and, searching, discovered a screen of jewels and gold that went from the top of the throne to the bottom. Behind this screen the  Brahmin high priest was devoutly engaged with the end of a rope in his hand. Then did it become known to me that when the rope was pulled the idol of necessity raised its arm.

Greatly confused at my presence, the Brahmin ran away in haste: I followed in hot pursuit and threw him headlong down a well, for I knew that, if he remained alive, he would seek to shed my blood. When the purpose of an evil man is revealed to thee, pull him up by the roots, otherwise will he not desire that thou shouldst live. The alarm being raised, I fled quickly from the land. When thou settest fire to a forest of canes, beware of the tigers, if thou art wise.

Whenever I supplicate at the shrine of the Knower of Secrets, the Indian puppet comes into my recollection — it throws dust on the pride of mine eyes. I know that I raise my hand, but not by virtue of mine own strength. Men of sanctity stretch not out their hands themselves the Fates invisibly pull the strings.

CHAPTER IX. Concerning Repentance

O thou of whose life seventy years have passed, perhaps thou hast slept in negligence that thy days have been thrown to the winds. Worldly aims hast thou well pursued; no preparations hast thou made for the departure to that world to come.

On the Judgment Day, when the bazar of Paradise will be arrayed, rank will be assigned in accordance with one’s deeds.

If thou shouldst take a goodly stock of virtues, in proportion will be thy profit; if thou be bankrupt, thou wilt be ashamed.

If fifty years of thy life have passed, esteem as a precious boon the few that yet remain.

While still thou hast the power of speech, close not thy lips like the dead from the praise of God.

AN OLD MAN’S LAMENT

One night, in the season of youth, several of us young men sat together; we sang like bulbuls and raised a tumult in the street by our mirth.

An old man sat silent, apart; like a filbert-nut, his tongue was closed from speech. A youth approached him and said: “O old man! why sittest thou so mournfully in this corner? Come, raise thy head from the collar of grief and join us in our festivity.”

Thus did the old man reply: “When the morning breeze blows over the rose-garden, the young trees proudly wave their branches. It becomes not me to mingle in thy company, for the dawn of old age has spread over my cheeks. Thy turn it is to sit at this table of youth; I have washed my hands of youthful pleasures. Time has showered snow upon my crow-like wings; like the bulbul, I could not sport in the garden. Soon will the harvest of my life be reaped; for thee, the new green leaves are bursting. The bloom has faded from my garden; who makes a nosegay from withered flowers? I must weep, like a child, in shame for my sins, but cannot emulate his pleasures.”

Well has Luqman said: “It is better not to live at all than to live many years in sinfulness.”

Better, too, may it be to close the shop in the morning than to sell the stock at a loss.

ADVICE AND WARNING

To-day, O youth, take the path of worship, for to-morrow comes old age. Leisure thou hast, and strength — strike the ball when the field is wide. 35

I knew not the value of life’s day till now that I have lost it.

How can an old ass strive beneath its burden? — go thy way, for thou ridest a swift-paced horse.

A broken cup that is mended — what will its value be? Now that in carelessness the cup of life has fallen from thy hand, naught remains but to join the pieces.

Negligently hast thou let the pure water go; how canst thou now perform thy ablutions, except with sand? 36

SADI’S REBUKE FROM A CAMEL-DRIVER

One night in the desert of Faid 37 my feet became fettered with sleep. A camel-driver awoke me, saying: “Arise; since thou heedest not the sound of the bell, perhaps thou desirest to be left behind! I, like thee, would sleep awhile, but the desert stretches ahead. How wilt thou reach the journey’s end if thou sleepest when the drum of departure beats?”

Happy are they who have prepared their baggage before the beat of the drum! The sleepers by the wayside raise not their heads and the caravan has passed out of sight.

He who was early awake surpassed all on the road; what availed it to awaken when the caravan had gone?

This is the time to sow the seeds of the harvest thou wouldst reap.

Go not bankrupt to the Resurrection, for it availeth not to sit in regret. By means of the stock that thou hast, O son, profit can be acquired; what profit accrueth to him who consumeth his stock himself?

Strive now, when the water reacheth not beyond thy waist; delay not until the flood has ‘passed over thy head.

Heed the counsel of the wise to-day, for to- morrow will Nakir 38 question thee with sternness. Esteem as a privilege thy precious soul, for a cage without a bird has no value. Waste-not thy time in sorrow and regret, for opportunity is precious and Time is a sword.

STORY CONCERNING SORROW FOR THE DEAD

A certain man died and another rent his clothes in grief. Hearing his cries, a sage exclaimed: “If the dead man possessed the power he would tear his shroud by reason of thy wailing and would say: ° Do not torment thyself on account of my affliction, since a day or two before thee I made ready for the journey. Perhaps thou hast forgotten thine own death, that my decease has made thee so distressed.’”

When he whose eyes are open to the truth scatters flowers over the dead, his heart burns. not for the dead but for himself.

Why dost thou weep over the death of a. child? He came pure, and he departed pure.

Tie now the feet of the bird of the soul; tarry not till it has borne the rope from thy hand.

Long hast thou sat in the place of another; soon will another sit in thy place.

Though thou be a hero or a swordsman, thou wilt carry away nothing but the shroud.

If the wild ass break its halter and wander into the desert its feet become ensnared in the sand. Thou, too, hast strength till thy feet go into the dust of the grave.

Since yesterday has gone and to-morrow has not come, take account of this one moment that now is.

In this garden of the world there is not a cypress that has grown which the wind of death has not uprooted.

STORY OF A PIOUS MAN AND A GOLD BRICK

A gold brick fell into the hands of a pious man and so turned his head that his enlightened mind became gloomy. He passed the whole night in anxious thought, reflecting: “This treasure will suffice me till the end of my life; no longer shall I have to bend my back before any one in begging. A house will I build, the foundation of which shall be of marble; the rafters of the ceiling shall be of aloe-wood. A special room will I have for my friends, and its door shall lead into a garden-house. Servants shall cook my food, and in ease will I nourish my soul. This coarse woollen bed-cloth has killed me by its roughness; now will I go and spread a carpet.”

His imaginings made him crazy; the crab had pierced its claws into his brain. He forsook his prayers and devotions, and neither ate nor slept.

Unable to rest tranquil in one place, he wandered to a plain, with his head confused with the charms of his vain fancies. An old man was kneading mud upon a grave for the purpose of making bricks. Absorbed in thought for a while, the old man said:

“O foolish soul! hearken to my counsel. Why hast thou attached thy mind to that gold brick when one day they will make bricks from thy dust? The mouth of a covetous man is too widely open that it can be closed again by one morsel. Take, O base man, thy hand from off that brick, for the river of thy avarice cannot be dammed up with a brick.

“So negligent hast thou been in the thought of gain and riches that the stock of thy life has become trodden underfoot. The dust of lust has blinded the eyes of thy reason — the simoom of desire has burned the harvest of thy life.”

Wipe the antimony of neglect from off thine eyes, for to-morrow wilt thou be reduced to antimony under the dust.

ADMONITION

Thy life is a bird, and its name is Breath. When the bird has flown from its cage it cometh not back to captivity.

Be watchful for the world lasts but a moment, and a moment spent with wisdom is better than an age with folly.

Why fix we thus our minds upon this caravanserai? Our friends have departed and we are on the road. After us, the same flowers will bloom in the garden, together will friends still sit.

When thou comest to Shiraz, 39 dost thou not cleanse thyself from the dust of the road?

Soon, O thou polluted with the dust of sin, wilt thou journey to a strange city. Weep, and wash with thy tears thy impurities away.

MORAL FROM AN INCIDENT IN SADI’S CHILDHOOD

I remember that, in the time of my childhood, my father (may God’s mercy be upon him every moment!), bought me a gold ring. Soon after, a hawker took the ring from my hand in exchange for a date-fruit.

When a child knows not the value of a ring he will part with it for a sweetmeat. Thou, too, didst not recognise value of life, but indulged thyself in vain pleasures.

In the Day of Judgment, when the good will attain to the highest dignity and mount from the bottommost depths of the earth to the Pleiades, thy head will hang forward in shame, for thy deeds will gather around thee.

O brother! be ashamed of the works of the evil, for ashamed wilt thou be at the Resurrection in the presence of the good.

STORY OF A MAN WHO REARED A WOLF

Some one reared a wolf-cub, which, when grown in strength, tore its master to pieces. When the man was on the point of death a sage passed by and said: “Didst thou not know that thou wouldst suffer injury from an enemy thus carefully reared?”

How can we raise our heads from shame when we are at peace with Satan and at war with God?

Thy friend regards thee not when thou turnest thy face towards the enemy.

He who lives in the house of an enemy deems right estrangement from a friend.

STORY OF A CHEAT

Some one robbed the people of their money by cheating, and whenever he had accomplished one of his nefarious acts he cursed the Evil One, who said:

“Never have I seen such a fool! Thou hast intrigued with me secretly; why, therefore, dost thou raise the sword of enmity against me?”

Alas! that the angels should record against thee iniquities committed by the order of the Evil One!

Go forward when thou seest that the door of peace is open, for suddenly the door of repentance will be closed.

March not under a load of sin, O son, for a porter becomes exhausted on the journey.

The Prophet is the Mediator of him who follows the highway of his laws.

A RECOLLECTION OF CHILDHOOD

In the time of my childhood I went out with my father during the Id Festival, and in the tumult of the mob got lost. I cried in fear, when my father suddenly pulled my ear, and said: Several times did I tell thee not to take thy hand from the skirt of my robe.”

A child knows not how to go alone; it is difficult to travel on any road unseen.

Thou, poor man, art as a child in thine endeavour; go, hold the skirt of the virtuous. Sit not with the base, but fasten thy hand to the saddle-straps of the pious.

Go, like Sadi, glean the corn of wisdom so that thou mayest store a harvest of divine knowledge.

STORY OF ONE WHO BURNED HIS HARVEST

In the month of July, a certain man stored his grain and set his mind at ease concerning it. One night, he became intoxicated and lighted a fire, which destroyed his harvest.

The next day he sat down to glean the ears of corn, but not a single grain remained in his possession. Seeing him thus afflicted, some one remarked: “If thou didst not wish for this misfortune, thou shouldst not in folly have burned thy harvest.”

Thou, whose years have been wasted in iniquity, art he who burns the harvest of his life.

Do not so, O my life! Sow the seeds of religion and justice, and throw not to the winds the harvest of a good name.

Knock at the door of forgiveness before thy punishment arrives, for lamentation beneath the lash is of no avail.

DISCOURSE ON REPENTANCE

He who supplicates the Deity by night will not be shamed on the Day of Judgment.

If thou art wise, pray for forgiveness in the night for the sins that thou hast committed in the day.

What is thy fear if thou hast made thy peace with God? He closes not the door of forgiveness upon them that supplicate Him.

If thou art a servant of God, raise thy hands in prayer; and if thou be ashamed, weep in sorrow.

No one has stood upon His threshold whose sins the tears of repentance have not washed away.

CHAPTER X. Concerning Prayer

Come, let us raise our hands in prayer, for tomorrow they will be powerless in the dust.

Think not that he who supplicates before the Door of Mercy, which is never shut, will turn away in hopelessness.

O Lord, regard us with compassion, for sin has entered among Thy servants.

O gracious God! by Thy bounty have we been sustained; to Thy gifts and loving kindness have we become habituated.

Since in this life Thou hast ennobled us above all things created, hope of similar glory have we in the world to come.

O God, humiliate me not by reason of Thy greatness; make me not ashamed by reason of my sins.

Let no one prevail over me, for it is better that I should suffer punishment from Thy hand.

Let it suffice that I am ashamed in Thy presence; make me not ashamed before my fellow men.

If the shadow of Thy mercy fall upon me, mean is the dignity of the sky before mine eyes.

If Thou give to me a crown, I will raise my head: exalt me, so that no one may cast me down.

A WORSHIPPER’S LAMENT

I tremble when I recall the prayer of one distracted in the temple of Mecca. Thus did he lament:

“Throw me not down, for no one will hold my hand to succour me. Whether Thou call me or drive me away, my head has no resting-place but Thy threshold. Thou knowest that I am poor and helpless; I am oppressed by my evil passions. Keep me from pollution, and forgive my sins. Close not mine eyes from the face of happiness; bind not my tongue when I recite the creed. Place the lamp of Faith before my way; make my hand short from doing evil.. From the sun of Thy goodness one ray suffices, for except in Thy rays I am not seen. Why should I weep because of my condition? If am weak, my refuge is strong.”

STORY OF AN IDOLATER

A fire-worshipper turned his back upon the world and girt up his loins in the service of an idol. After some years he was overtaken by misfortune and wept at the feet of the idol, saying: “I am afflicted — help me, O idol! I am weary — have pity upon me.”

Long did he continue in his lamentation, but no benefit did he derive. How can an idol accomplish the desires of a man when of itself it cannot drive away a fly?

The idolater frowned and said: “O thou, whose feet are bound to error! with folly have I worshipped thee for years. Help me to fulfil my wishes, or I will ask them of God.”

While his face was yet besmeared with the dust of the idol’s feet, the Almighty fulfilled his object.

A pious man was astonished when he heard this. Then did a voice from heaven speak into his ear, saying: “This old man prayed before the idol, but his prayer was not heard, If at the-shrine of God he were likewise spurned, what difference would there be between an idol and Him Who is eternal?”

ENDNOTES

1 I.e. the Bustān.

2 I.e. its ten chapters.

3 Lit. “bone”; used metaphorically in the sense of “a truth.”

4 One of the kings of Persia in whose reign Sadi flourished. His full name was Atābak Muzaffar-ud-Din Abu Bakr-bin-Sa’d-bin-Zangī.

5 I.e. Abu Bakr.

6 Naushīravān the Just was the twentieth king of the fourth dynasty of Persia, and contemporary with the Roman Emperor Justinian. The Prophet Muhammad was born in his reign.

7 A title of the kings of Persia. It was originally applied to Naushīravān.

8 Lit. “silver.”

9 Darius Codomanus was the last king of Persia. He waged many wars with Alexander the Great, who finally defeated him at Arbela. The unfortunate king was afterwards killed by one Bessus, governor of Bactriana, 331 B.C.

10 One of the kings of Persia. He was called Qazal because of the redness of his hair. Arsalān means “a lion.”

11 Name of a lofty mountain situated in Hamdān, north-west of Isfahan.

12 I.e. shows one thing and sells another of inferior quality. The expression is commonly used to denote a hypocrite.

13 To do either is considered an act of virtue among Muhammadans.

14 By reason of the opportunity it presented to bestow his charity.

15 It is impossible to convey the beauty of this line in English. The Persian words here used to express “food” and “kiss” are written alike, except for one diacritical mark, and the word change “literally means making an error in writing and changing the diacritical points.”

16 Hatim Tai was an Arabian chief who was renowned for his generosity. He was born in Yaman, in Arabia Felix, and lived some time before Muhammad in the sixth century. Many legends have been woven round his life and character.

17 Horse-flesh was formerly eaten in parts of the East.

18 I.e. their love for God is insatiable.

19 I.e. the fire of love.

20 “Gold” refers to “life,” and “Friend” to “God.” The meaning is that one should devote one’s life to religion, and thus gain an entrance to the presence or the Deity.

21 Bāyazid Bustāmī was a celebrated saint of Bustan, in Persia. He died A.D. 261.

22 Abul Mahfūz, surnamed Marūf, was a celebrated saint of Kareh, a village in Baghdad. He was the son of a fire-worshipper, and was born A.D. 813, during the reign of Caliph Māmūn, son of the celebrated Hārūn-ar-Rashīd.

23 Abū-al Hasan Kūshyār was a celebrated astronomer and the tutor of Avicenna.

24 Luqman was a famous Greek philosopher, and is supposed by some to have been the author of Æsop’s Fables.

25 Bakhtyār literally means “fortunate “; the play on the word is, therefore, obvious.

26 “Darkness” and “light” are used metaphorically in the sense of “falseness” and “truth.”

27 Khawarazm is situated to the east of the Caspian Sea, near the mouth of the Oxus.

28 I.e. in this transient and fleeting world.

29 Korah, the cousin of Moses and the proverbial miser of the Easterns.

30 I.e. if you possess merit.

31 A famous hero; the Hercules of the Persians.

32 The grandfather of Rustam, and, like him, a celebrated hero.

33 Faridun was the seventh king of Persia, his reign commencing about 750 B.C. He was the boast of the Persians and a model of every virtue.

34 A celebrated temple in Guzerat demolished by Sultan Mahmud of Ghazni in A.D. 1024.

35 I.e. engage in good works while you still have time.

36 Muhammad commanded that sand should be used for ablution before prayer when water was unobtainable, as is more often than not the case in the desert.

37 Name of a village on the road to Mecca.

38 The angel who examines the dead in their graves.

39 I.e. your native land.

Pand Namah

‘Scroll of Wisdom’

Translated by Arthur N. Wollaston

Although Saadi is best known for his collections the Bustan and the Gulistan, he also wrote the Pand Namah (Scroll of Wisdom). A small collection of poems on moral themes, it is celebrated for its concise and elegant nature and beauty of diction. The Persian text is written “in a metre that flows in easy cadence”, explains Arthur N. Wollaston, the translator of this 1906 edition for the Wisdom of the East series, “and fixes the words of the poem on the mind.”

Pand Namah

CONTENTS

SADI’S SCROLL OF WISDOM

IN PRAISE OF MUHAMMAD

ADDRESS TO THE SOUL

IN PRAISE OF GENEROSITY

DESCRIPTION OF BENEVOLENCE

IN CONDEMNATION OF PARSIMONY

DESCRIPTION OF HUMILITY

IN CONDEMNATION OF PRIDE

ON THE EXCELLENCE OF LEARNING

AS REGARDS AVOIDING THE SOCIETY OF THE IGNORANT

DESCRIPTION OF JUSTICE

IN CONDEMNATION OF OPPRESSION

DESCRIPTION OF CONTENTMENT

IN CONDEMNATION OF AVARICE

DESCRIPTION OF OBEDIENCE AND WORSHIP

IN CONDEMNATION OF SATAN

IN EXPLANATION OF THE WINE OF AFFECTION AND LOVE

AS TO THE NATURE OF FIDELITY

ON THE EXCELLENCE OF GRATITUDE

IN EXPLANATION OF PATIENCE

DESCRIPTION OF RECTITUDE

IN CONDEMNATION OF LYING

ON THE VICISSITUDES OF FORTUNE AND DIFFERENCES OF STATION

AGAINST PLACING HOPE IN CREATED BEINGS

SADI’S SCROLL OF WISDOM

In the Name of God, the Merciful and Compassionate!

O merciful Being! take pity on our condition;
For we are captives in the snare of lust!
We have no protector save Thee!
Thou art the all-sufficient Forgiver of sins to us sinners!
Keep us from the path of error;
Forgive us our trespasses, and show us righteousness.

IN PRAISE OF MUHAMMAD

The Peace of God be upon him and his Posterity!
So long as the tongue is fixed in the mouth,
May the praise of Muhammad be a source of delight.
The beloved of God, the most exalted of Prophets,
Whose pillow is the glorious firmament.
The earth-conquering horseman with his chestnut Buraq,1
Which passed beyond the palace of the cerulean portico!

1 The steed on which Muhammad is supposed to have visited Heaven.

ADDRESS TO THE SOUL

Forty years of thy precious existence have expired;
Yet thy life hath not passed beyond childhood.
Thou hast spent all in lust and licence;
Not a moment hast thou acted according to righteousness.
Rely not upon unstable life;
Be not confident that thou art safe from the sport of fortune.

IN PRAISE OF GENEROSITY

O soul! whoever spreadeth the table of benevolence
Is famous in the world of liberality.
Generosity will make thee renowned throughout the universe;
Generosity will secure thee happiness.
Beside generosity there is nothing in the world,
Nor is aught more current in any market!
Generosity will be the source of delight;
Generosity will be the harvest of life.
Freshen the heart of the world by generosity;
Fill the globe with the renown of thy generosity.
For ever be steadfast in generosity;
Since the Creator of the soul is beneficent.

DESCRIPTION OF BENEVOLENCE

The man of good parts maketh choice of benevolence;
For mankind becometh prosperous from benevolence.
Be conqueror of the world through kindness and benevolence;
Be a chief in the kingdom of kindness and generosity.
Benevolence is the attribute of men of piety,
Benevolence is the duty of the prosperous.
Benevolence is the touchstone of the alloy of sin,
Benevolence is the medicine for all ills.
Be not, if you can, void of benevolence,
That you may snatch the ball of excellence owing to benevolence.

IN CONDEMNATION OF PARSIMONY

Were the spheres to fall to the share of the miser,
Were fortune the slave of the miser,
Were the wealth of Korah 2 in his hand,
Were a quarter of the universe subservient to him
The miser is not worthy that thou shouldest mention his name.
And were fortune to become his servant,
Pay no regard to the property of the miser —
Speak not of the miser’s property and possessions.
Were the miser a devotee both on land and sea,
He would be so it is ordered — unknown in Paradise.
Though the miser be rich in possessions,
He would suffer distress, as if he were a poor man.
Benevolent persons enjoy the fruit of their wealth;
The niggardly suffer grief from their gold and silver.

2 A man proverbial for his wealth and avarice.

DESCRIPTION OF HUMILITY

O soul! if thou makest choice of humility,
The people of the world will be thy friends.
Humility will augment thy station,
Just as the moon gets light from the sun.
Humility is the source of intimacy,
For exalted will be the dignity of friendship.
Humility exalteth a man,
Humility is a decoration to men of position.
Every one who is human is humble;
Nought becometh a man save magnanimity.
The man of wisdom maketh choice of humility;
The bough laden with fruit rests upon the earth.
Humility will increase thy reputation,
It will get thee a place in the glorious Paradise.
Humility is the key of the gate of Heaven;
It is an ornament to position and dignity.
Whoever is accustomed to humility
Will enjoy rank and power.
Whoever is born to command,
It is more than delightful to find in him humility.
Humility will make thee beloved in the world
Thou wilt become dear in men’s hearts as their own soul.
Do not withhold humility from mankind,
For thus thou mayest withdraw thy neck (from perplexity) as it were a sword (from the scabbard).
Humility on the part of the exalted is commendable.
If a beggar be humble, it is his nature.

IN CONDEMNATION OF PRIDE

Beware, O son! that thou dost not become proud,
Lest fortune thereby slip from thine hands.
Pride on the part of a wise man is not comely;
Sad is such demeanour in the case of a prudent person.
Pride is the habit of the ignorant,
Pride doth not proceed from men of intelligence.
Pride caused the fall of Azazil, 3
And led to his being ensnared in the prison of the accursed.
Whoever is by nature arrogant,
His head is filled with pride beyond imagination.
Pride is the source of adversity,
Pride is the nature of the evil-disposed.
Since thou knowest about pride, why dost thou pursue it?
If thou actest thus, thou doest wrong.

3 Satan.

ON THE EXCELLENCE OF LEARNING

Sons of Adam from learning will find perfection —
Not from dignity, and rank, and wealth, and property.
Like a taper one must melt in pursuit of learning,
Since without learning one cannot know God.
A man of wisdom is a student of learning,
For the market of wisdom is always brisk.
Whoever is fortunate as regards Eternity,
Maketh choice of the pursuit of knowledge.
This pursuit of knowledge is a duty on thy part,
Even if it be necessary to traverse the earth.
Go, seize fast hold of the skirt of knowledge,
For learning will convey thee to everlasting abodes.
Seek nought but knowledge if thou art wise,
For it is neglectful to remain without wisdom.
From learning there will come to thee perfection as regards religion and the world,
For thine affairs will be settled by knowledge.

AS REGARDS AVOIDING THE SOCIETY OF THE IGNORANT

O soul! if thou art wise and intelligent,
Make not choice of the society of the ignorant.
Dart from the ignorant, as it were an arrow;
Mix not with them, as it were sugar and milk.
If thou hast a dragon for a friend in the cave,
It is better than to have an ignorant associate.
If the enemy of thy soul be intelligent,
It is better than an ignorant friend.
From the ignorant proceed nought but bad deeds,
And no one hath heard therefrom but base words.
No one in the world is so despicable as the ignorant,
For nothing is more worthless than ignorance.
The end of the ignorant will be the abode of the lost,
For the ignorant seldom end life well.
It is best that the ignorant should be abased,
For it is fitting that the ignorant should find disgrace.
It is well to shun the ignorant,
For from them will arise disgrace in this world and the next.

DESCRIPTION OF JUSTICE

Since God hath given thee all things to thy desire,
Why dost thou not eventually bring forth the fruits of justice?
Since justice is the adornment of royalty,
Why dost thou not fix thine heart upon justice?
Thy kingdom will be established
If justice cometh to thine aid.
Since Nushirwan4 made choice of justice
His name is now held in remembrance for his goodness.
Peace befalleth the kingdom from the effects of justice,
Since from justice the kingdom attaineth its wishes.
There is no better architect in the world than justice,
Since nought is more excellent than righteousness.
Make the world populous through justice;
Fill the hearts of mankind with delight through justice.
What will be the end thereof to thee?
Even this, that thou wilt have the name of a righteous monarch.
Dost thou wish a token of good fortune?
Close the door of oppression against mankind;
Withhold not thy favour from thy subjects;
Gratify the desires of those who seek justice.

4 A king of Persia, surnamed “the Just,” who reigned from A. D. 531 to A. D. 579.

IN CONDEMNATION OF OPPRESSION

The world witnesseth desolation owing to failure of justice,
As it were a beautiful garden from the autumn gale.
Do not give way to oppression in any case,
Lest the sun of monarchy suffer decline.
He who raiseth the fire of oppression in the world
Occasioneth a sigh on the part of the people of the land.
If a tyrant raiseth a sigh from the soul
The anguish createth a flame over land and water.
Do not oppress poor helpless people,
Without further thought as to the narrowness of the grave.
Be not disposed towards the market-place of oppression;
Be not neglectful of the smoke of men’s hearts.
O man of haste! be not an oppressor of humanity,
For of a sudden the wrath of God will overtake thee.
Do not oppress the poor humble people,
For without doubt the tyrant passeth to perdition.

DESCRIPTION OF CONTENTMENT

O soul! if thou acquirest contentment,
Thou wilt exercise sway in the kingdom of repose.
If thou art pinched with the trials of poverty,
Then, in the estimation of the wise, wealth is nought.
The poor man is not disgraced by poverty,
For mankind attain glory from penury.
Gold and silver are the glory of the rich,
But the poor have inward repose.
Be not distressed if thou art not wealthy,
Since a sovereign cannot extract taxes from the desolate.
In all circumstances contentment is preferable.
Whoever is born under a lucky star is happy.
Enlighten thy soul with the radiance of contentment,
If thou hast any token of good fortune.

IN CONDEMNATION OF AVARICE

Beware! thou that art snared in the net of avarice,
Lest thou be mad and intoxicated with the cup of greed.
Waste not thy life in the acquisition of wealth,
Since an earthen pot is not of the same value as a pearl.
Whosoever hath fallen into the snare of greed
Giveth the harvest of his life to the winds.
I grant that all the wealth of Korah 5 is thine —
That all the riches of the habitable globe are with thee
But in the end thou wilt be enveloped in the earth,
Like the helpless, with distress of heart.
Why dost thou distress thyself with the anguish of gold?
Why dost thou bear the burden of distress, as if thou wert an ass?
Why dost thou undergo anguish on account of wealth,
For it will of a sudden be swept away.
Hast thou thus given thine heart to the picture of money?
For with the taste thereof thou wilt become a penitent boon companion.
Thou art become such a lover of the face of gold,
That thine affairs are distressed and thy head upset.
Thou art become as it were a prey to its pursuit,
That thou thinkest not of the day of judgment.
Let not the heart of that base wretch rejoice,
Who on account of the world scattereth faith to the winds.

5 A man proverbial for his wealth and avarice.

DESCRIPTION OF OBEDIENCE AND WORSHIP

When fortune is a person’s slave
His heart is perpetually disposed towards obedience.
It is not fit to turn aside one’s head from servitude,
Since fortune is obtainable from obedience.
Happiness is procured from obedience;
The heart becometh illumined from the light of obedience.
If thou girdest thy loins with submission,
Thou wilt open the door of everlasting happiness.
The wise man doth not turn his head from obedience,
Since no excellence is more lofty than obedience.
Keep thine ablutions freshened with the waters of obedience,
So that to-morrow thou mayest be free as from fire.
i Stablish thy prayers with sincerity,
So that thou mayest attain everlasting prosperity.
Enlightenment of soul springeth from obedience,
Just as the earth deriveth light from the sun.
Worship the Creator;
Sit down in the portals of obedience.
If thou makest choice to worship the Creator,
Thou wilt be a chieftain in the kingdom of fortune.
Raise thy head and keep not abstinence in thy pocket,
For Paradise is the abode of the abstinent.
Lighten the lamp of thy soul with piety,
That thou mayest become happy, like the prosperous.
Whoever is clad with the garment of religion
Hath no fear for the trials of the day of judgment.

IN CONDEMNATION OF SATAN

O soul! whoever is overpowered by Satan,
Is night and day in the snare of sin.
Whoever hath Satan for his ruler,
How can he return to the way of God?
O soul! beware that thou dost not give way to sin,
That to-morrow thou mayest be free as from fire.
A wise man avoideth offence,
As sugar melteth in water.
A man of good disposition doth not commit sin,
Lest he becometh as the light of the sun concealed by the clouds.
Do not give way to thy lusts,
Lest thou be suddenly snatched to perdition.
If thine heart doth not turn aside from sin,
Amongst the lowest of the low will be thine abode.
Do not destroy the house of life
With the torrent of bad and improper actions.
If thou keepest away from sin and iniquity,
Thou wilt not be far from the garden of Paradise.

IN EXPLANATION OF THE WINE OF AFFECTION AND LOVE

O cupbearer! bring wine as it were a garment of fire,
For a man with a soul desires this (religious) intoxication.
The ruby wine in the golden goblet
Is soul-inspiring, as it were a beautiful pearl.
Welcome is the fire of desire to those inspired with love!
Welcome are the delightful pains of the lords of love!
Bring this wine as it were the water of immortality,6
For from its fragrance the soul findeth deliverance from grief!
Happy that soul that desires a Friend!7
Happy that person who is ensnared in the bonds of affection for Him!
Happy that person who is enamoured of the face of the Friend!
Happy that person whose abode is the Nook of the Friend!
A Friend as it were wine like soul-refreshing Peace!
Wine — the purest like a beautiful face!
Happy men of soul who adore wine!
Happy the flavour of wine to men of spirit!

6 These stanzas must be construed in a figurative and religious sense.

7 That is “God.”

AS TO THE NATURE OF FIDELITY

O soul! be firm footed as regards fidelity,
For money hath no currency without its stamp.
If thou turnest not the rein from the path of fidelity,
Thou wilt be a friend in the hearts of thine enemies.
Turn not thy soul’s face from the abode of fidelity,
That thou be not ashamed before the face of thy friends.
Place not thy foot outside the street of fidelity,
Since tyranny is not fitting in the case of friends.
It is wrong to separate thyself from beloved ones;
It is contrary to fidelity to sever thyself from thy comrades.
Want of fidelity is the attribute of women.
Do not learn the unseemly conduct of that sex.

ON THE EXCELLENCE OF GRATITUDE

Whosoever hath a heart filled with gratitude to God,
It is not becoming that he should tie up the tongue of praise.
Teach thy soul nought but gratitude to God,
For it is necessary to praise the Creator.
Thy wealth and possessions are increased by gratitude;
Victory entereth thy door, owing to gratitude.
Wert thou to show gratitude to God till the day of reckoning,
Thou would’st not discharge a thousandth part (of thy duties).
Yes I it is best to lisp thy gratitude,
For gratitude to Him is an ornament to Islam.
If thou restrainest not thy tongue from gratitude to God,
Thou wilt attain everlasting felicity.

IN EXPLANATION OF PATIENCE

If patience is thy helper
Thou wilt attain everlasting happiness.
Patience is the attribute of prophets;
Those who practise religion turn not aside from this direction.
Patience openeth the door of the desires of friends,
For save patience there is no key for them.
Patience giveth thee the desire of thine heart,
For at the hands of mankind thy difficulties are solved.
Patience is best in every case,
For in this sentence is much meaning.
Patience giveth thee thy desire,
It relieveth thee from pain and misfortune.
Patience is the key of the door of thine aspirations,
The enlarger of the kingdom of desire.
Exercise patience if thou art religious,
For haste is the attribute of devils.

DESCRIPTION OF RECTITUDE

O soul! if thou makest choice of rectitude,
Fortune will become to thee an auspicious companion.
A wise man doth not turn aside his head from rectitude,
Since from rectitude a man’s name is exalted.
If thou breathest truth at morn
Thou wilt avoid the darkness of ignorance.
Beware that thou breathest nought save rectitude,
Since the right hand holdeth pre-eminence over the left,
Nought is better in the world than rectitude,
For in the rosebud of rectitude there is no thorn.

IN CONDEMNATION OF LYING

When a person followeth after unrighteousness,
Where will he find deliverance on the day of judgment?
Whosoever assumeth the habit of false speaking
Hath no splendour for the lamp of his soul.
Falsehood putteth a man to shame,
Falsehood depriveth a man of dignity.
A wise man blusheth at a liar,
Since no one esteemeth such a person.
O brother! beware that thou speakest not falsely,
For a liar is despised and without repute.
Nought is worse than unrighteousness;
O son! therefrom ariseth loss of fair name.

ON THE VICISSITUDES OF FORTUNE AND DIFFERENCES OF STATION

Regard this globe, resplendent like gold,
The roof of which is firm without pillars!
Regard the curtain of the revolving sphere!
Regard its glittering lamps! 8
One is a shepherd, and another a sovereign;
One is a suppliant for justice, another covets a throne;
One is happy, and another miserable;
One is prosperous, and another unfortunate;
One is a payer of taxes, and another sits on a throne;
One is exalted, and another debased;
One sitteth on a mat, and another upon a throne;
One is in rags, and another is clad in silk;
One hath no bread, and another revels in wealth;
One is disappointed, and another prosperous;
One is afflicted, and another rolleth in riches;
One hath a transient fate, and another is established throughout eternity;
One is full of health, and another is sickly;
One is full of years, and another is a mere stripling;
One is filled with righteousness, and another lives in sin;
One is given to prayer, and another is addicted to deceit;
One is upright and religious,
Another is immersed in an ocean of crime and wickedness;
One is of good disposition, and another is of hasty temper;
One is patient, and another is quarrelsome;
One is at ease, another in pain;
One is in difficulties, another is prosperous;
One is a chieftain in the world of luxury,
Another is a captive in the snares of adversity;
One is established in the rose garden of comfort,
Another is associated with anguish, pain, and distress;
One is like a rose resplendent with joy,
Another is distressed at heart, and pained in soul;
One girdeth his loins with obedience,
Another bringeth his life to an end in sin;
One passeth day and night with the Koran in his hands,
Another sleepeth intoxicated in the corner of a wine shop;
One is fixed firm as a peg at the door of religion,
Another is a sinner in the way of infidelity;
One is prosperous, learned, and intelligent,
Another is unfortunate, ignorant, and abashed;
One is a champion, agile, and a warrior,
Another is faint-hearted, indolent, and without courage;
One exceedeth all limits in the possession of wealth,
Another is in want of bread and means for his family;
One hath the taper of joy resplendent,
To another bright daylight is as night.

8 The stars.

AGAINST PLACING HOPE IN CREATED BEINGS

For this therefore place no reliance upon fortune,
For it will suddenly deprive thy soul of life.
Put no reliance upon a numberless army,
For it may be that thou wilt not be aided by victory.
Put no reliance upon kingdom, position, and rank,
For they existed before thee, and will remain after thee.
Do not wrong because thou seest wrong on the part of a true friend;
Good fruit doth not grow from bad seed.
Put no reliance on majesty and power,
For suddenly will arrive the command to give up thy soul.
Many are the monarchs of exalted rank;
Many are the warriors who overrun kingdoms;
Many are the fierce warriors who scatter armies;
Many are the lion-like men who smite with the sword;
Many are the moon-faced beauties of graceful figure;
Many are the lovely ones with stature like the sun;
Many are the newly arisen with lovely cheeks;
Many are the freshly decked brides;
Many are the famous, and many are the fortunate;
Many are they like the cypress in stature, and many are the rosy-cheeked beauties
Who have rent the garment of life,
Who have drawn the head within the wall of the grave.
With such the harvest of their life hath been scattered to the winds,
So that never hath any one a trace of them.
Link not thy soul with this earth and its vain delights,
For misfortune may rain upon it from Heaven.
Set not thine heart upon this material abode,
For thou wilt not find therein delight for thy soul.
Place not thine affections upon this ancient and ruined dwelling
For it will not be void of grief and pain.
The world hath no permanence, O my son!
Pass not thy life therein in negligence.
Fix not thy heart upon this perishable abode.
From Sadi receive this one piece of advice.

The Prose

View of Baghdad in the eighteenth century — in c. 1230 Saadi enrolled at the Nizamiyya University in Baghdad, where he studied Islamic sciences, law, governance, history, Persian literature and Islamic theology.

Baghdad today

Gulistan

Translated by James Ross

The Gulistan (The Rose Garden) is widely regarded as a landmark of Persian literature and one of its most influential prose works.  Written in 1258, it is one of two of Saadi’s major works, which has proved deeply influential in the West as well as the East. Structured as a collection of poems and stories (metaphorically as different types of roses), the text features minimalist plots, expressed with precise language and psychological insight. It explores the many issues and tribulations faced by humankind, employing both an optimistic and a subtly satirical tone. The collection is widely quoted as a source of ancient wisdom. One of the most well-known aphorisms from the Gulistan, which is still known today in the Western world, concerns the concept of sadness when one has no shoes, until one meets the man that has no feet, “whereupon I thanked Providence for its bounty to myself”.

In his introduction, Saadi describes how a friend persuaded him to go out to a garden on 21 April 1258. There the friend gathered up flowers to take back to town. Saadi remarked on how quickly the flowers would die, and proposed a flower garden that would last much longer. The poet then tells us that, “On the same day I happened to write two chapters, namely on polite society and the rules of conversation, in a style acceptable to orators and instructive to letter-writers.” In finishing the book, Saadi explains that, though his speech is entertaining and amusing, “it is not hidden from the enlightened minds of sahibdils (possessors of heart), who are primarily addressed here, that pearls of healing counsel have been drawn onto strings of expression, and the bitter medicine of advice has been mixed with the honey of wit”. Following this introduction, the Gulistan is divided into eight chapters, each consisting of a number of stories and poetry.

The stories are often brief and are accompanied by short verses, representing the words of the protagonists or the author’s perspective. Since there is scant biographical information about Saadi outside of his writings, his short, apparently autobiographical tales have been used by commentators to build up an account of his life.

One of the most widely read books of world literature, the Gulistan has been admired for its inimitable simplicity and elegant Persian prose, from the time of its composition to the present day. The text has been studied in much of Asia, whilst in Persian-speaking countries its proverbs and aphorisms appear in every kind of literature and continue to be current in conversation, much like how Shakespeare is frequently found in modern day English.  The Gulistan has been significant in the influence of Persian literature on Western culture. La Fontaine based his “Le songe d’un habitant du Mogol” on a story from the collection, while Voltaire was familiar with the text, referencing the work in the Preface of Zadig and he even translated a score of verses, either from the original or from a Latin or Dutch translation. Sir William Jones advised students of Persian to pick an easy chapter of the Gulistan to translate as their first exercise in the language. Therefore, selections of the book became the primer for officials of British India at Fort William College and at Haileybury College in England.

The poet Saadi converses by night with a young friend in a garden. Miniature from ‘Gulistan’, Herat, 1427. Chester Beatty Library, Dublin.

CONTENTS

Gulistan

CHAPTER I. Of the Customs of Kings

CHAPTER II. Of the Morals of Dervishes

CHAPTER III. On the Preciousness of Contentment

CHAPTER IV. On the Benefit of Being Silent

CHAPTER V. On Love and Youth

CHAPTER VI. Of Imbecility and Old Age

CHAPTER VII. Of the Impressions of Education

CHAPTER VIII. Of the Duties of Society

THE CONCLUSION OF THE BOOK

Dancing dervishes on a double-page composition from an illustrated manuscript of the ‘Gulistan’, c. 1615

CHAPTER I. Of the Customs of Kings

I

I have heard of a king who made the sign to put a captive to death. The poor wretch, in that state of desperation, began to abuse the king in the dialect which he spoke, and to revile him with asperity, as has been said; whoever shall wash his hands of life will utter whatever he may harbor in his heart:— “When a man is desperate he will give a latitude to his tongue, like as a cat at bay will fly at a dog”— “at the moment of compulsion when it is impossible to fly, the hand will grasp the sharp edge of a sword.” The king asked, saying, “What does he say?” One of the Vizirs (or nobles in attendance), and a well-disposed man, made answer, “O my lord! he is expressing himself and saying, (paradise is for such) as are restraining their anger and forgiving their fellow-creatures; and God will befriend the benevolent.” The king felt compassion for him, and desisted from shedding his blood. Another nobleman, and the rival of that former, said, “It is indecorous for such peers, as we are, to use any language but that of truth in the presence of kings; this man abused his majesty, and spoke what was unworthy of him.” The king turned away indignant at this remark, and replied, “I was better pleased with his falsehood than with this truth that you have told; for that bore the face of good policy, and this was founded in malignity; and the intelligent have said, ‘A peace-mingling falsehood is preferable to a mischief-stirring truth’: — Whatever prince may do that which he (his counsellor) will recommend, it must be a subject of regret if he shall advise aught but good.”

They had written over the portico of King Feridún’s palace:— “This world, O brother! abides with none. Set thy heart upon its maker, and let him suffice thee. Rest not thy pillow and support on a worldly domain which has fostered and slain many such as thou art. Since the precious soul must resolve on going, what matters it whether it departs from a throne or the ground.”

II

One of the kings of Khorasan saw, in a dream, Sultan Mahmud, the son of Saboktagin, an hundred years after his death, when his body was decayed and fallen into dust, all but his eyes, which as heretofore were moving in their sockets and looking about them. All the learned were at a stand for its interpretation, excepting one dervish, who made his obeisance, and said:— “He is still looking about him, because his kingdom and wealth are possessed by others! — Many are the heroes whom they have buried under ground, of whose existence above it not one vestige is left; and of that old carcase which they committed to the earth, the earth has so consumed it that not one bone is left. Though many ages are gone since Nushirowan was in being, yet in the remembrance of his munificence is his fair renown left. Be generous, O my friend! and avail thyself of life, before they proclaim it as an event that such a person is not left.”

III

I have heard of a king’s son who was short and mean, and his other brothers were lofty in stature and handsome. On one occasion the king, his father, looked at him with disparagement and scorn. The son, in his sagacity, understood him and said, “O father! a short wise man is preferable to a tall blockhead; it is not everything that is mightier in stature that is superior in value: — a sheep’s flesh is wholesome, that of an elephant carrion. — Of the mountains of this earth Sinai is one of the least, yet is it most mighty before God in state and dignity. — Heardst thou not what an intelligent lean man said one day to a sleek fat dolt? An Arab horse, notwithstanding his slim make, is more prized thus than a herd of asses.”

The father smiled; the pillars of the state, or courtiers, nodded their assent, and the other brothers were mortified to the quick. Till a man has declared his mind, his virtue and vice may have lain hidden; do not conclude that the thicket is unoccupied, peradventure the tiger is gone asleep!

I have heard that about that time a formidable antagonist appeared against the king. Now that an army was levied in each side, the first person that mounted his horse and sallied upon the plain was that son, and he exclaimed: “I cannot be that man whose back thou mayest see on the day of battle, but am him thou mayest descry amidst the thick of it, with my head covered with dust and blood; for he that engages in the contest sports with his own blood, but he who flees from it sports with the blood of an army on the day of fight.” He so spoke, assaulting the enemy’s cavalry, and overthrew some renowned warriors. When he came before the king he kissed the earth of obeisance, and said, “O thou, who didst view my body with scorn, whilst not aware of valor’s rough exterior, it is the lean steed that will prove of service, and not the fatted ox, on the day of battle.”

They have reported that the enemy’s cavalry was immense, and those of the king few in number; a body of them was inclined to fly, when the youth called aloud, and said, “Be resolute, my brave men, that you may not have to wear the apparel of women!” The troops were more courageous on this speech, and attacked altogether. I have heard that on that day they obtained a complete victory over the enemy. The king kissed his face and eyes, and folded him in his arms, and became daily more attached to him, till he declared him heir-apparent to the throne. The brothers bore him a grudge, and put poison into his food. His sister saw this from a window, and closed the shutter; and the boy understood the sign, and withdrew his hand from the dish, and said, “It is hard that the virtuous should perish and that the vicious should occupy their places.” Were the homayi, or phoenix, to be extinct in the world, none would take refuge under the shadow of an owl. They informed the father of this event; he sent for the brothers and rebuked them, as they deserved. Then he made a division of his domains, and gave a suitable portion to each, that discontent might cease; but the ferment was increased, as they have said: Ten dervishes can sleep on one rug, but two kings cannot be accommodated in a whole kingdom. When a man after God’s heart can eat the moiety of his loaf, the other moiety he will give in alms to the poor. A king may acquire the sovereignty of one climate or empire; and he will in like manner covet the possession of another.

IV

A horde of Arab robbers had possessed themselves of the fastness of a mountain, and waylaid the track of the caravan. The yeomanry of the villages were frightened at their stratagems, and the king’s troops alarmed, inasmuch as they had secured an impregnable fortress on the summit of the mountain, and made this stronghold their retreat and dwelling.

The superintendents of the adjacent districts consulted together about obviating their mischief, saying: If they are in this way left to improve their fortune, any opposition to them may prove impracticable. The tree that has just taken root, the strength of one man may be able to extract; but leave it to remain thus for a time, and the machinery of a purchase may fail to eradicate it: the leak at the dam-head might have been stopped with a plug, while, now it has a vent, we cannot ford its current on an elephant.

Finally it was determined that they should set a spy over them, and watch an opportunity when they had made a sally upon another tribe, and left their citadel unguarded. Some companies of able warriors and experienced troops were sent, that they might conceal themselves in the recesses of the mountain. At night, when the robbers were returned, jaded with their march and laden with spoil, and had stripped themselves of their armor, and deposited their plunder, the foremost enemy they had to encounter was sleep. Now that the first watch of night was gone:— “the disc of the sun was withdrawn into a shade, and Jonas had stepped into the fish’s mouth “ — the bold-hearted warriors sprang from their ambush and secured the robbers by pinioning them one after another.

In the morning they presented them at the royal tribunal, and the king gave an order to put the whole to death. There happened to be among them a stripling, the fruit of whose early spring was ripening in its bloom, and the flower-garden of his cheek shooting into blossom. One of the vizirs kissed the foot of the imperial throne, and laid the face of intercession on the ground, and said, “This boy has not yet tasted the fruit of the garden of life, nor enjoyed the fragrance of the flowers of youth: such is my confidence in the generous disposition of his Majesty that it will favor a devoted servant by sparing his blood.” The king turned his face away from this speech; as it did not accord with his lofty way of thinking, he replied:— “The rays of the virtuous cannot illuminate such as are radically vicious; to give education to the worthless is like throwing walnuts upon a dome: — it were wiser to eradicate the tree of their wickedness, and annihilate their tribe; for to put out a fire and leave the embers, and to kill a viper and foster its young, would not be the acts of rational beings. Though the clouds pour down the water of vegetation, thou canst never gather fruit from a willow twig. Exalt not the fortune of the abject, for thou canst never extract sugar from a mat or common cane.”

The vizir listened to this speech; willingly or not he approved of it, and applauded the good sense of the king, and said:— “What his majesty, whose dominion is eternal, is pleased to remark is the mirror of probity and essence of good policy, for had he been brought up in the society of those vagabonds, and confined to their service, he would have followed their vicious courses. Your servant, however, trusts that he may be instructed to associate with the virtuous, and take to the habits of the prudent; for he is still a child, and the lawless and refractory principles of that gang cannot have yet tainted his mind; and it is in tradition that — Whatever child is born, and he is verily born after the right way of orthodoxy, namely Islamism, afterwards his father and his mother bring him up as a Jew, Christian, or Guebre. — The wife of Lot associated with the wicked, and her posterity failed in the gift of prophecy; the dog of the seven sleepers (at Ephesus) for some time took the path of the righteous, and became a rational being.”

He said this, and a body of the courtiers joined him in intercession, till the king acceded to the youth’s pardon, and answered: “I gave him up, though I saw not the good of it. — Knowest thou what Zal said to the heroic Rustem: ‘Thou must not consider thy foe as abject and helpless. I have often found a small stream at the fountain-head, which, when followed up, carried away the camel and its load.’”

In short, the vizir took the boy home, and educated him with kindness and liberality. And he appointed him masters and tutors, who taught him the graces of logic and rhetoric, and all manner of courtier accomplishments, so that he met general approbation. On one occasion the vizir was detailing some instances of his proficiency and talents in the royal presence, and saying: “The instruction of the wise has made an impression upon him, and his former savageness is obliterated from his mind.” The king smiled at this speech, and replied:— “The whelp of a wolf must prove a wolf at last, notwithstanding he may be brought up by a man.”

Two years after this a gang of city vagabonds got about him, and joined in league, till on an opportunity he murdered the vizir and his two sons; and, carrying off an immense booty, he took up the station of his father in the den of thieves, and became a hardened villain. The king was apprised of this event; and, seizing the hand of amazement with the teeth of regret, said:— “How can any person manufacture a tempered sabre from base iron; nor can a base-born man, O wiseacre, be made a gentleman by any education! Rain, in the purity of whose nature there is no anomaly, cherishes the tulip in the garden and common weed in the salt-marsh. Waste not thy labor in scattered seed upon a briny soil, for it can never be made to yield spikenard; to confer a favor on the wicked is of a like import, as if thou didst an injury to the good.”

V

At the gate of Oghlamish Patan, King of Delhi, I (namely Sa’di) saw an officer’s son, who, in his wit and learning, wisdom and understanding, surpassed all manner of encomium. In the prime of youth, he at the same time bore on his forehead the traces of ripe age, and exhibited on his cheek the features of good fortune:— “Above his head, from his prudent conduct, the star of superiority shone conspicuous.”

In short, it was noticed with approbation by the king that he possessed bodily accomplishments and mental endowments. And sages have remarked that worth rests not on riches, but on talents; and the discretion of age, not in years, but on good sense. His comrades envied his good fortune, charged him with disaffection, and vainly attempted to have him put to death:— “but what can the rival effect so long as the charmer is our friend?”

The king asked, saying, “Why do they show such a disinclination to do you justice?” He replied: “Under the shadow of his majesty’s good fortune I have pleased everybody, excepting the envious man, who is not to be satisfied but with a decline of my success; and let the prosperity and dominion of my lord the king be perpetual!” I can so manage as to give umbrage to no man’s heart; but what can I do with the envious man, who harbors within himself the cause of his own chagrin? Die, O ye envious, that ye may get a deliverance; for this is such an evil that you can get rid of it only by death. Men soured by misfortune anxiously desire that the state and fortune of the prosperous may decline; if the eye of the bat is not suited for seeing by day, how can the fountain of the sun be to blame? Dost thou require the truth? It were better a thousand such eyes should suffer, rather than that the light of the sun were obscured.

VI

They tell a story of a Persian king who had stretched forth the arm of oppression over the subjects’ property, and commenced a system of violence and rapacity to such a degree that the people emigrated to avoid the vexatiousness of his tyranny, and took the road of exile to escape the annoyance of his extortions. Now that the population was diminished and the resources of the state had failed, the treasury remained empty, and enemies gathered strength on all sides. Whoever may expect a comforter on the day of adversity, say, let him practise humanity during the season of prosperity; if not treated cordially, thy devoted slave will forsake thee; show him kindness and affection, and the stranger may become the slave of thy devotion.

One day they were reading, in his presence, from the Sháh Námeh, of the tyrant Zohák’s declining dominion and the succession of Feridún. The vizir asked the king, saying: “Can you so far comprehend that Feridún had no revenue, domain, or army, and how the kingdom came to be confirmed with him?” He answered: “As you have heard, a body of people collected about him from attachment, and gave their assistance till he acquired a kingdom.” The vizir said: “Since, O sire, a gathering of the people is the means of forming a kingdom, how come you in fact to cause their dispersion unless it be that you covet not a sovereignty? So far were good that thou wouldst patronize the army with all thy heart, for a king with an army constitutes a principality.” The king asked: “What are the best means of collecting an army and yeomanry?” He replied: “Munificence is the duty of a king, that the people may assemble around him, and clemency, that they may rest secure under the asylum of his dominion and fortune, neither of which you have. A tyrant cannot govern a kingdom, for the duty of a shepherd is not expected from the wolf. A king that can anyhow be accessory to tyranny will undermine the wall of his own sovereignty.”

The advice of the prudent minister did not accord with the disposition of the king. He ordered him to be confined, and immured him in a dungeon. It soon came to pass that the sons of the king’s uncle rose in opposition, levied an army in support of their pretensions, and claimed the sovereignty of their father. A host of the people, who had cruelly suffered under the arm of his extortion and were dispersed, gathered around and succored them till they dispossessed him of his kingdom and established them in his stead. That king who can approve of tyrannizing over the weak will find his friend a bitter foe in the day of hardship. Deal fairly with thy subjects, and rest easy about the warfare of thine enemies, for with an upright prince his yeomanry is an army.

* * * * *

VIII

They asked Hormuz, son of Nushirowan, “What fault did you find with your father’s ministers that you ordered them into confinement?” He replied: “I saw no fault that might deserve imprisonment; yet I perceived that any reverence for me makes a slight impression on their minds, and that they put no implicit reliance on my promise. I feared lest from an apprehension of their own safety they might conspire my ruin; therefore, put in practice that maxim of philosophers who have told us: ‘Stand in awe, O wise man, of him who stands in awe of thee, notwithstanding thou canst cope with a hundred such as he. Therefore will the snake bite the herdsman’s foot, because it fears that he will bruise its head with a stone. Seest thou not that now that the cat is desperate it will tear out the tiger’s eyes with its claws.’”

IX

In his old age an Arab king was grievously sick, and had no hopes of recovery, when, lo! a messenger on horseback presented himself at the palace-gate, and joyfully announced, saying: “Under his majesty’s good fortune we have taken such a stronghold, made the enemy prisoners of war, and reduced all the landholders and vassals of that quarter to obedience as subjects.” On hearing this news the king fetched a cold sigh, and answered: “These glad tidings are not intended for me but for my rivals, namely, the heirs of the sovereignty. My precious life has, alas! been wasted in the hope that what my heart chiefly coveted might enter at my gate. My bounden hope was gratified; yet what do I benefit by that? There is no hope that my passed life can return. The hand of death beats the drum of departure. Yes, my two eyes, you must bid adieu to my head. Yes, palm of my hand, wrist, and arm, all of you say farewell, and each take leave of the other. Death has overtaken me to the gratification of my foes; and you, O my friends, must at last be going. My days were blazed away in folly; what I did not do let you take warning (and do).”

X

At the metropolitan mosque of Damascus I was one year fervent in prayer over the tomb of Yahiya, or John the Baptist and prophet, on whom be God’s blessing, when one of the Arab princes, who was notorious for his injustice, chanced to arrive on a pilgrimage, and he put up his supplication, asked a benediction, and craved his wants. — The rich and poor are equally the devoted slaves of this shrine, and the richer they are the more they stand in need of succor. Then he spoke to me, saying: “In conformity with the generous resolution of dervishes and their sincere zeal, you will, I trust, unite with me in prayer, for I have much to fear from a powerful enemy.” I answered him, “Have compassion on your own weak subjects, that you may not see disquiet from a strong foe. With a mighty arm and heavy hand it is dastardly to wrench the wrists of poor and helpless. Is he not afraid who is hardhearted with the fallen that if he slip his foot nobody will take him by the hand? — Whoever sowed the seed of vice and expected a virtuous produce, pampered a vain brain and encouraged an idle whim. Take the cotton from thy ear and do mankind justice, for if thou refusest them justice there is a day of retribution. The sons of Adam are members one of another, for in their creation they have a common origin. If the vicissitudes of fortune involve one member in pain, all the other members will feel a sympathy. Thou, who art indifferent to other men’s affliction, if they call thee a man art unworthy of the name.”

XI

A dervish, whose prayers had a ready acceptance (with God), made his appearance at Bagdad. Hojaj Yusuf (a great tyrant) sent for him and said: “Put up a good prayer for me.” He prayed, “O God! take from him his life!” Hojaj said, “For God’s sake, what manner of prayer is this?” He answered: “It is a salutary prayer for you, and for the whole sect of Mussulmans. — O mighty sir, thou oppressor of the feeble, how long can this violence remain marketable? For what purpose came the sovereignty to thee? Thy death were preferable to thy tyrannizing over mankind.”

XII

An unjust king asked a holy man, saying, “What is more excellent than prayers?” He answered: “For you to remain asleep till mid-day, that for this one interval you might not afflict mankind.” — I saw a tyrant lying dormant at noon, and said, “This is mischief, and is best lulled to sleep. It were better that such a reprobate were dead whose state of sleep is preferable to his being awake.”

XIII

I have heard of a king who had turned night into day in the midst of conviviality, and in the gayety of intoxication was exclaiming— “I never was in this life happier than at this present moment, for I have no thought of evil or good, and care for nobody!” — A naked dervish, who had taken up his rest in the cold outside, answered— “O thou, who in good fortune hast not thy equal in the world, I admit that thou hast no cause of care for thyself, but hast thou none for us?” — The king was pleased at this speech. He put a purse of a thousand dinars out at the window, and said: “O dervish! hold up your skirt.” He replied, “Where can I find a skirt, who have not a garment.” The king was still more touched at the hardship of his condition, and adding an honorary dress to that donation, sent them out to him.

The dervish squandered all that ready cash within a few days, and falling again into distress, returned.— “Money makes no stay in the hand of a religious independent; neither does patience in a lover’s heart, nor water in a sieve.” — At a time when the king had no thought about him, they obtruded his case, and he took offence and turned away his face. And it is on such an occasion that men of prudence and experience have remarked that it behooves us to guard against the wrath and fury of kings, whose noble thoughts are chiefly occupied with important affairs of state, and cannot endure the importunate clamors of the vulgar. — The bounty of the sovereign is forbid to him who does not watch a proper opportunity. Till thou canst perceive a convenient time for obtruding an opinion, undermine not thy consequence by idle talk. — The king said, “Let this impudent beggar and spendthrift be beaten and driven away, who in a short time dissipated such a sum of money, for the treasury of the Beat-al-mal, or charity fund, is intended to afford mouthfuls to the poor, and not bellyfuls to the imps of the devil. — That fool who can illuminate the day with a camphorated taper must soon feel a want of oil for his lamp at night.”

One of his discreet ministers said: “O king, it were expedient to supply such people with their means of subsistence by instalments, that they may not squander their absolute necessaries; but, with respect to what your majesty commanded as to coercion and prohibition, though it be correct, a party might impute it to parsimony. Nor does it moreover accord with the principles of the generous to encourage a man to hope for kindness and then overwhelm him with heartbreaking distrust: — Thou must not open upon thyself the door of covetousness; and when opened, thou must not shut it with harshness. — Nobody will see the thirsty pilgrims crowding towards the shore of the briny ocean; but men, birds, and reptiles will flock together wherever they can meet a fresh water fountain.”

XIV

One of the ancient kings was easy with the yeomanry in collecting his revenue, but hard on the soldiery in his issue of pay; and when a formidable enemy showed its face, these all turned their backs. — Whenever the king is remiss in paying his troops, the troops will relax in handling their arms. What bravery can he display in the ranks of battle whose hand is destitute of the means of living?

One of those who had excused themselves was in some sort my intimate. I reproached him and said, “He is base and ungrateful, mean and disreputable who, on a trifling change of circumstances, can desert his old master and forget his obligation of many years’ employment.” He replied: “Were I to speak out, I swear by generosity you would excuse me. Peradventure, my horse was without corn, and the housings of his saddle in pawn. — And the prince who, through parsimony, withholds his army’s pay cannot expect it to enter heartily upon his service.” — Give money to the gallant soldier that he may be zealous in thy cause, for if he is stinted of his due he will go abroad for service. — So long as a warrior is replenished with food he will fight valiantly, and when his belly is empty he will run away sturdily.

XV

One of the vizirs was displaced, and withdrew into a fraternity of dervishes, whose blessed society made its impression upon him and afforded consolation to his mind. The king was again favorably disposed towards him, and offered his reinstatement in office; but he consented not, and said, “With the wise it is deemed preferable to be out of office than to remain in place. — Such as sat within the cell of retirement blunted the teeth of dogs, and shut the mouths of mankind; they destroyed their writings, and broke their writing reeds, and escaped the lash and venom of the critics.” — The king answered: “At all events I require a prudent and able man, who is capable of managing the state affairs of my kingdom.” The ex-minister said: “The criterion, O sire, of a wise and competent man is that he will not meddle with such like matters. — The homayi, or phoenix, is honored above all other birds because it feeds on bones, and injures no living creature.”

A Tamsil, or application in point. — They asked a Siyah-gosh, or lion-provider, “Why do you choose the service of the lion?” He answered: “Because I subsist on the leavings of his prey, and am secure from the ill-will of my enemies under the asylum of his valor.” They said: “Now you have got within the shadow of his protection and admit a grateful sense of his bounty, why do you not approach more closely, that he may include you within the circle of select courtiers and number you among his chosen servants?” He replied, “I should not thus be safe from his violence.” — Though a Guebre may keep his fire alight for a hundred years, if he fall once within its flame it will burn him. — Procul à Jove, procul à fulmine. It on one occasion may chance that the courtier of the king’s presence shall pick up a purse of gold, and the next that he shall lie shorter by the head. And philosophers have remarked, saying, “It is incumbent on us to be constantly aware of the fickle dispositions of kings, who will one moment take offence at a salutation, and at another make an honorary dress the return for an act of rudeness; and they have said, That to be over much facetious is the accomplishment of courtiers and blemish of the wise. — Be wary, and preserve the state of thine own character, and leave sport and buffoonery to jesters and courtiers.”

XVI

One of my associates brought me a complaint of his perverse fortune, saying, “I have small means and a large family, and cannot bear up with my load of poverty. Often has a thought crossed my mind, suggesting, Let me remove into another country, that in whatever way I can manage a livelihood none may be informed of my good or bad luck.” — (Often he went asleep hungry, and nobody was aware, saying, “Who is he?” Often did his life hang upon his lip, and none lamented over him.)— “On the other hand, I reflect on the exultation of my rivals, saying, They will scoffingly sneer behind my back, and impute my zeal in behalf of my family to a want of humanity. — Do but behold that graceless vagabond who can never witness the face of good fortune. He will consult the ease of his own person and abandon to distress his wife and children. — And, as is known, I have some small skill in the science of accounts. If, through your respected interest, any office can be obtained that may be the means of quieting my mind, I shall not, during the remainder of life, be able to express my sense of its gratitude.”

I replied, “O brother, the service of kings offers a twofold prospect — a hope of maintenance and a fear for existence; and it accords not with the counsel of the wise, under that expectation, to incur this risk. — No tax-gatherer will enter the dervish’s abode, saying, Pay me the rent of a field and orchard; either put up with trouble and chagrin, or give thy heartstrings to the crows to pluck.”

He said, “This speech is not made as applicable to my case, nor have you given me a categorical answer. Have you not heard what has been remarked, ‘His hand will tremble on rendering his account who has been accessory to a dishonest act. — Righteousness will insure the divine favor; I never met him going astray who took the righteous path.’ — And philosophers have said, ‘Four orders of people are mortally afraid of four others — the revenue embezzler, of the king; the thief, of the watchman; the fornicator, of the eavesdropper; and the adulteress, of the censor.’ But what has he to fear from the comptroller who has a fair set of account-books?— ‘Be not extravagant and corrupt while in office if thou wishest that the malice of thy rival may be circumscribed on settling thy accounts. Be undefiled, O brother, in thy integrity, and fear nobody; washermen will beat only dirty clothes against a stone.’”

I replied, “The story of that fox suits your case, which they saw running away, stumbling and getting up. Somebody asked him, ‘What calamity has happened to put you in such a state of trepidation?’ He said, ‘I have heard that they are putting a camel in requisition.’ The other answered, ‘O silly animal! what connection has a camel with you, or what resemblance is there between you and it?’ He said, ‘Be silent; for were the envious from malevolence to insist that this is a camel, and I should be seized for one, who would be so solicitous about me as to inquire into my case?’ And before they can bring the antidote from Irac the person bitten by the snake may be dead. In like manner, you possess knowledge and integrity, discrimination and probity, yet spies lie in ambush, and informers lurk in corners, who, notwithstanding your moral rectitude, will note down the opposite; and should you anyhow stand arraigned before the king, and occupy the place of his reprehension, who in that state would step forward in your defence? Accordingly, I would advise that you should secure the kingdom of contentment, and give up all thoughts of preferment. As the wise have said:— ‘The benefits of a sea voyage are innumerable; but if thou seekest for safety, it is to be found only on shore.’”

My friend listened to this speech; he got into a passion, cavilled at my fable, and began to question it with warmth and asperity, saying, “What wisdom or propriety, good sense or morality, is there in this? Here is verified that maxim of the sage, which tells us they are friends alone that can serve us in a jail, for all our enemies may pretend friendship at our own table.— ‘Esteem him not a friend who during thy prosperity will brag of his love and brotherly affection.’ I account him a friend who will take his friend by the hand when struggling with despair, and overwhelmed with misfortune.”

I perceived within myself, saying, “He is disturbed, and listens to my advice with impatience;” and, having called the sahib diwan, or lord high treasurer, in virtue of a former intimacy that subsisted between us, I stated his case and spoke so fully upon his skill and merits, that he put him in nomination for a trifling office. After some time, having adverted to his kindly disposition and approved of his good management, his promotion was in train, and he got confirmed in a much higher station. Thus was the star of his good fortune in ascension, till it rose into the zenith of ambition; and he became the favorite of his majesty the king, towards whom all turned for counsel, and upon whom all eyes rested their hopes! I rejoiced at this prosperous change of his affairs, and said:— “Repine not at thy bankrupt circumstances, nor let thy heart despond, for the fountain of immortality has its source of chaos. — Take heed, O brother in affliction! and be not disheartened, for God has in store many hidden mercies. — Sit not down soured at the revolutions of the times, for patience is bitter, yet it will yield sweet fruit.”

At that juncture I happened to accompany a party of friends on a journey to Hijaz, or Arabia Petraea. On my return from the pilgrimage to Mecca, he came out two stages to meet me. I perceived that his outward plight was wretched, and his garb that of dervishes. I asked, “How is this?” He replied, “Just as you said, a faction bore me a grudge and charged me with malpractices; and the king, be his reign eternal, would not investigate the truth of that charge, and my old and best friends stood aloof from my defence, and overlooked my claims on our former acquaintance. — When, through an act of God, a man has fallen, the whole world will put their feet upon his neck; when they see that fortune has taken him by the hand, they will put their hands upon their breasts, and be loud in his praise. — In short, I underwent all manner of persecution till within this week, that the tidings of the safe return of the pilgrims reached us, when I got a release from my heavy durance and a confiscation of my hereditary tenements.” I said, “At that time you did not listen to my admonition, when I warned you that the service of princes is, like a voyage at sea, profitable but hazardous: you either get a treasure or perish miserably. — The merchant gains the shore with gold in both his hands, or a wave will one day leave him dead on its beach.” — Not deeming it generous any further to irritate a poor man’s wound with the asperity of reproach, or to sprinkle his sore with the salt of harsh words, I made a summary conclusion in these two verses, and said:— “Wert thou not aware that thou shouldst find fetters on thy feet when thou wouldst not listen to the generous man’s counsel? Thrust not again thy finger into a scorpion’s hole till thou canst endure the pain of its sting.”

XVII

I was the companion of a holy fraternity, whose manners were correct from piety, and minds disciplined from probity. An eminent prince entertained a high and respectful opinion of the worth of this brotherhood, and had assigned it an endowment. Perhaps one of them committed an act unworthy of the character of dervishes; for the good opinion of that personage was forfeited, and the market of their support shut. I wished that I could by any means re-establish the maintenance of my friends, and attempted to wait on the great man; but his porter opposed my entrance, and turned me away with rudeness. I excused him conformably with what the witty have said:— “Till thou canst take an introduction along with thee approach not the gate of a prince, vizir, or lord; for the dog and the doorkeeper, on espying a beggar, will the one seize his skirt and the other his collar.”

When the favorite attendants of that great man were aware of my situation, they ushered me into his presence with respect, and offered me the highest seat; but in humility I took the lowest, and said: “Permit that I, the slave of the abject, should seat myself on a level with servants.” — The great man answered, “My God, my God! what room is there for this speech? Wert thou to seat thyself upon the pupil of mine eye, I would court thy dalliance, for thou art lovely.”

In short, I took my seat, and entered upon a variety of topics, till the indiscretion of my friends was brought upon the carpet, when I said: “What fault did the lord of past munificence remark, that his servant should seem so contemptible in his sight? Individually with God is the perfection of majesty and goodness, who can discern our failings and continue to us his support.” When the prince heard this sentiment he subscribed to its omnipotence; and, with regard to the stipendiary allowance of my friends, he ordered its continuance as heretofore, and a faithful discharge of all arrears. I thanked him for his generosity, kissed the dust of obeisance, apologized for my boldness, and at the moment of taking my leave, added: “When the fane of the Caabah, at Mecca, became their object from a far distant land, pilgrims would hurry on to visit it for many farsangs. It behooves thee to put up with such as we are, for nobody will throw a stone at a tree that bears no fruit.”

XVIII

A prince inherited immense riches by succeeding to his father. He opened the hand of liberality, displayed his munificence, and bestowed innumerable gifts upon his troops and people. “The brain will not be perfumed by a censer of green aloes-wood; place it over the fire that it may diffuse fragrance like ambergris. If ambitious of a great name, make a practice of munificence, for the crop will not shoot till thou shalt sow the seed.”

A narrow-minded courtier began to admonish him, saying, “Verily, former sovereigns have collected this wealth with scrupulosity and stored it advisedly. Check your hand in this waste, for accidents wait ahead, and foes lurk behind. God forbid that you should want it on a day of need. — Wert thou to distribute the contents of a granary among the people, every master of a family might receive a grain of rice; why not exact a grain of silver from each, that thou mightest daily hoard a chamber full of treasure?”

The prince turned his face aside from this speech, so contrary to his own lofty sentiments, and harshly reprimanded him, saying, “A great and glorious God made me sovereign of this property, that I might enjoy and spend it; and posted me not a sentinel, to hoard and watch over it. — Carown perished, who possessed forty magazines of treasure; Nushirowan died not, who left behind him a fair reputation.”

XIX

They have related that at a hunting seat they were roasting some game for Nushirowan, and as there was no salt they were despatching a servant to the village to fetch some. Nushirowan called to him, saying, “Take it at its fair price, and not by force, lest a bad precedent be established and the village desolated.” They asked, “What damage can ensue from this trifle?” He answered, “Originally, the basis of oppression in this world was small, and every newcomer added to it, till it reached to its present extent: — Let the monarch eat but one apple from a peasant’s orchard, and his guards, or slaves, will pull up the tree by its root. From the plunder of five eggs, that the king shall sanction, his troops will stick a thousand fowls on their spits.”

XX

I have heard of a revenue-collector who would distrain the huts of the peasantry, that he might enrich the treasury of the sovereign, regardless of that maxim of the wise, who have said, “Whoever can offend the Most High, that he may gain the heart of a fellow-creature, God on high will instigate that creature against him, till he dig out the foundation of his fortune: — That crackling in the flame is not caused by burning rue, but it is the sigh of the afflicted that occasions it.”

They say, of all animals the lion is the chief; and of beasts the ass is the meanest; yet, with the concurrence of the wise, the burden-bearing ass is preferable to the man-devouring lion. “The poor ass, though devoid of understanding, will be held precious when carrying a burden; oxen and asses that carry loads are preferable to men that injure their fellow-creatures.”

The king had reported to him a part of his nefarious conduct. He put him to the rack, and tortured him to death. “Thou canst not obtain the sovereign’s approbation till thou make sure of the good-will of his people. Wishest thou that God shall be bountiful to thee, be thou good thyself to the creatures of God.”

One who had suffered from his oppression passed him at the time of his execution, and said: “It is not every man that may have the strong arm of high station, that can in his government take an immoderate freedom with the subjects’ property. It is possible to cram a bone down the throat, but when it sticks at the navel it will burst open the belly.”

XXI

They tell a story of an evil-disposed person who struck a pious good man on the head with a stone. Having no power of revenge, the dervish was keeping the stone by him till an occasion when the sovereign let loose the army of his wrath, and cast him into a dungeon. The poor man went up and flung that stone at his head. The person spoke to him, saying, “Who are you, and why did you throw this stone at my head?” He answered, “I am that poor man, and this is the same stone that you on a certain occasion flung at my head.” He said, “Where have you been all this time?” The poor man answered, “I stood in awe of your high station, but now that I find you in a dungeon, I avail myself of the opportunity, as they have said— ‘Whilst they saw the worthless man in prosperity, the wise thought proper to show him respect. Now thou hast not sharp and tearing nails, it is prudent for thee to defer to engage with the wicked. Whoever grappled with a steel-armed wrist exposed his own silver arm to torture. Wait till fortune can manacle his hands, then beat out his brains to the satisfaction of thy friends.’”

* * * * *

XXIII

One of King Umraw-layas’s slaves had absconded, and people that went after him brought him back. The vizir, who had a dislike to him, used his interest to have him put to death, that the other slaves (as he pretended) might not commit the same offence. The poor slave fell at Umraw-layas’s feet, and said: “Whatever may befall me, if thou approve of it, it is so far proper. What plea can a vassal offer against his lord and master’s decree? — Nevertheless, inasmuch as I am the nurtured gift of this house, I could not wish that on the last day’s reckoning my blood should stand charged to your account. If, at all events, you are resolved to put this your slave to death, let it be done with a plea of legality, that you may not be censured at the day of resurrection.” The king asked, “How can I set up a legal plea?” He replied, “Issue your command that I may kill the vizir, then give an order to put me to death in retaliation for him, that you may kill me according to law!” The king smiled and asked the vizir, “What is your advice in this case?” The vizir said, “O sovereign of the world! I beg, for the sake of God, that you will manumit this audacious fellow as a propitiation at the tomb of your forefathers, lest he also involve me in calamity. The fault was on my side, in not doing justice to the saying of the wise, who have warned us:— ‘When thou didst enter the lists with a practised slinger, in thy want of skill thou exposest thine own head to be broken. When thou didst discharge thine arrow at thy antagonist’s face thou shouldst have been upon thy guard, for thou hadst become his butt.’”

XXIV

King Zuzan had a minister of a generous spirit and kindly disposition, who was polite to all persons while present, and spoke well of them when absent. One of his acts happened to displease the king, who put him under stoppages, and in rigorous confinement. The officers of the crown were sensible of his former benefits, and pledged to show their gratitude of them. Accordingly, whilst under their charge, they treated him with courtesy and benevolence, and would not use any coercion or violence:— “If thou desirest to remain at peace with a rival, whenever he slanders thee behind thy back speak well of him to his face. The perverse man cavils for the last word; unless thou preferest his bitter remarks, make his mouth sweet.”

Of the charge against him at the king’s exchequer, part had been adjusted according to its settlement, and he remained in durance for the balance. A bordering prince sent him underhand a letter, stating, “The sovereign of that quarter has not appreciated such worth, nay, has dishonored it, and with us it bore a heavy price. If the precious mind of a certain personage, may God facilitate his deliverance, will incline favorably towards us, every possible exertion shall be made to conciliate his good-will, and the cabinet ministers of this kingdom are exulting in the prospect of seeing him, and anxious for the answer of this letter.” The minister made himself master of the contents. He pondered on the danger, wrote such a brief answer as seemed discreet upon the back of the letter, and returned it. One of the hangers-on at court had notice of this circumstance. He apprised the king, saying, “A certain person whom you have put in confinement is corresponding with a neighboring prince.” The king was wroth, and ordered an investigation of this intelligence. The messenger was seized, and letter read. On the back of it he had written, stating, “The good opinion of his Majesty exceeds the merits of this slave; but the honored approbation he has bestowed upon a servant cannot possibly have his consent, for he is the fostered gift of this house, and he cannot, on a trifling change of affection, betray his ancient benefactor and patron. — Though once in his life he may grate thee with harshness, excuse him who on every occasion else has soothed thee with kindness.” The king commended his fidelity, bestowed on him an honorary dress and largess, and made his excuses, saying, “I was to blame, that could do you an injury.” He replied, “In this instance, my lord, your servant sees no blame that attaches to you; but such was the ordination of God, whose name was glorified, that this your devoted slave should verily be overtaken with a calamity. Accordingly, it is more tolerable at the hand of you, who possess the rights of past good, and have claims of gratitude on this servant: — Be not offended with mankind should any mischief assail thee, for neither pleasure nor pain originate with thy fellow-being. Know that the contrariety of foe and friend proceeds from God, and that the hearts of both are at his disposal. Though the arrow may seem to issue from the bow, the intelligent can see that the archer gave it its aim.”

XXV

I have heard that one of the kings of Arabia directed the officers of his treasury, saying, “You will double a certain person’s salary, whatever it may be, for he is constant in attendance and ready for orders, while the other courtiers are diverted by play, and negligent of their duty.” A good and holy man overheard this, and heaved a sigh and groan from the bottom of his bosom. They asked, saying, “What vision did you see?” He replied, “The exalted mansions of his devoted servants will be after this manner portioned out at the judgment-seat of a Most High and Mighty Deity! — If for two mornings a person is assiduous about the person of the king, on the third he will in some shape regard him with affection. The sincerely devout exist in the hope that they shall not depart disappointed from God’s threshold. The rank of a prince is the reward of obedience. Disobedience to command is a proof of rejection. Whoever has the aspect of the upright and good will lay the face of duty at this threshold.”

XXVI

They tell a story of a tyrant who bought fire-wood from the poor at a low price, and sold it to the rich at an advance. A good and holy man went up to him and said, “Thou art a snake, who bitest everybody thou seest; or an owl, who diggest up and makest a ruin of the place where thou sittest: — Although thy injustice may pass unpunished among us, it cannot escape God, the knower of secrets. Be not unjust with the people of this earth, that their complaints may not rise up to heaven.”

They say the unjust man was offended at his words, turned aside his face, and showed him no civility, as they have expressed it (in the Koran): — He, the glorified God, overtook him amidst his sins: — till one night, when the fire of his kitchen fell upon the stack of wood, consumed all his property, and laid him from the bed of voluptuousness upon the ashes of hell torments. That good and holy man happened to be passing and observed that he was remarking to his friends, “I cannot fancy whence this fire fell upon my dwelling.” He said, “From the smoke of the hearts of the poor! — Guard against the smoke of the sore-afflicted heart, for an inside sore will at last gather into a head. Give nobody’s heart pain so long as thou canst avoid it, for one sigh may set a whole world into a flame.”

They have related that these verses were inscribed in golden letters upon Kai-khosráu’s crown:— “How many years, and what a continuance of ages, that mankind shall on this earth walk over my head. As the kingdom came to me from hand to hand, so it shall pass into the hands of others.”

XXVII

A person had become a master in the art of wrestling; he knew three hundred and sixty sleights in this art, and could exhibit a fresh trick for every day throughout the year. Perhaps owing to a liking that a corner of his heart took for the handsome person of one of his scholars, he taught him three hundred and fifty-nine of those feats, but he was putting off the instruction of one, and under some pretence deferring it.

In short the youth became such a proficient in the art and talent of wrestling that none of his contemporaries had ability to cope with him, till he at length had one day boasted before the reigning sovereign, saying, “To any superiority my master possesses over me, he is beholden to my reverence of his seniority, and in virtue of his tutorage; otherwise I am not inferior in power, and am his equal in skill.” This want of respect displeased the king. He ordered a wrestling match to be held, and a spacious field to be fenced in for the occasion. The ministers of state, nobles of the court, and gallant men of the realm were assembled, and the ceremonials of the combat marshalled. Like a huge and lusty elephant, the youth rushed into the ring with such a crash that had a brazen mountain opposed him he would have moved it from its base. The master being aware that the youth was his superior in strength, engaged him in that strange feat of which he had kept him ignorant. The youth was unacquainted with its guard. Advancing, nevertheless, the master seized him with both hands, and, lifting him bodily from the ground, raised him above his head and flung him on the earth. The crowd set up a shout. The king ordered them to give the master an honorary dress and handsome largess, and the youth he addressed with reproach and asperity, saying, “You played the traitor with your own patron, and failed in your presumption of opposing him.” He replied, “O sire! my master did not overcome me by strength and ability, but one cunning trick in the art of wrestling was left which he was reserved in teaching me, and by that little feat had to-day the upper hand of me.” The master said, “I reserved myself for such a day as this. As the wise have told us, ‘Put it not so much into a friend’s power that, if hostilely disposed, he can do you an injury.’ Have you not heard what that man said who was treacherously dealt with by his own pupil:— ‘Either in fact there was no good faith in this world, or nobody has perhaps practised it in our days. No person learned the art of archery from me who did not in the end make me his butt.’”

XXVIII

A solitary dervish had taken up his station at the corner of a desert. A king was passing by him. Inasmuch as contentment is the enjoyment of a kingdom, the dervish did not raise his head, nor show him the least mark of attention; and, inasmuch as sovereignty is regal pomp, the king took offence, and said, “The tribe of ragged mendicants resemble brute beasts, and have neither grace nor good manners.” The vizir stepped up to him, and said: “O generous man! the sovereign of the universe has passed by you; why did you not do him homage, and discharge the duty of obeisance?” He answered and said, “Speak to your sovereign, saying: Expect service from that person who will court your favor; let him moreover know that kings are meant for the protection of the people, and not the people for the subjects of kings. — Though it be for their benefit that his glory is exalted, yet is the king but the shepherd of the poor. The sheep are not intended for the service of the shepherd, but the shepherd is appointed to tend the sheep. — To-day thou mayest observe one man proud from prosperity, another with a heart sore from adversity; have patience for a few days till the dust of the grave can consume the brain of that vain and foolish head. When the record of destiny came to take effect, the distinction of liege and subject disappeared. Were a person to turn up the dust of the defunct, he could not distinguish that of the rich man from the poor.”

These sayings made a strong impression upon the king; he said: “Ask me for something.” He replied: “What I desire is, that you will not trouble me again!” The king said, “Favor me with a piece of advice.” He answered: “Attend to them now that the good things of this life are in thy hands; for wealth and dominion are passing from one hand into another.”

* * * * *

XXX

A king ordered an innocent person to be put to death. The man said, “Seek not your own hurt by venting any anger you may entertain against me.” The king asked, “How?” He replied, “The pain of this punishment will continue with me for a moment, but the sin of it will endure with you forever. — The period of this life passes by like the wind of the desert. Joy and sorrow, beauty and deformity, equally pass away. The tyrant vainly thought that he did me an injury, but round his neck it clung and passed over me.”

The king profited by this advice, spared his life, and asked his forgiveness.

XXXI

The cabinet ministers of Nushirowan were debating an important affair of state, and each delivered his opinion according to the best of his judgment. In like manner the king also delivered his sentiments, and Abu-zarchamahr, the prime minister, accorded in opinion with him. The other ministers whispered him, saying, “What did you see superior in the king’s opinion that you preferred it to the judgment of so many wise heads?” He replied: “Because the event is doubtful, and the opinion of all rests in the pleasure of the most high God whether it shall be right or wrong. Accordingly it is safer to conform with the judgment of the king, because if that shall prove wrong, our obsequiousness to his will shall secure us from his displeasure. — To sport an opinion contrary to the judgment of the king were to wash our hands in our own blood. Were he verily to say this day is night, it would behoove us to reply: Lo! there are the moon and seven stars.”

XXXII

An impostor plaited his hair and spake, saying, “I am a descendant of Ali;” and he entered the city along with the caravan from Hijaz, saying, “I come a pilgrim from Mecca;” and he presented a Casidah or elegy to the king, saying, “I have composed it!” The king gave him money, treated him with respect, and ordered him to be shown much flattering attention; till one of the courtiers, who had that day returned from a voyage at sea, said, “I saw him on the Eeduzha, or anniversary of sacrifice at Busrah; how then can he be a Haji, or pilgrim?” Another said, “Now I recollect him, his father was a Christian at Malatiyah (Malta); how then can he be a descendant of Ali?” And they discovered his verses in the divan of Anwari. The king ordered that they should beat and drive him away, saying, “How came you to utter so many falsehoods?” He replied, “O sovereign of the universe! I will utter one speech more, and if that may not prove true, I shall deserve whatever punishment you may command.” The king asked, “What may that be?” He said: “If a peasant bring thee a cup of junket, two measures of it will be water and one spoonful of it buttermilk. If thy slave spake idly be not offended, for great travellers deal most in the marvellous!” The king smiled and replied, “You never in your life spake a truer word.” He directed them to gratify his expectations, and he departed happy and content.

XXXIII

They have related that one of the vizirs would compassionate the weak and meditate the good of everybody. He happened to fall under the royal displeasure, and they all strove to obtain his release. Such as had him in custody were indulgent in their restraint, and his fellow-grandees were loud in proclaiming his virtues, till the king pardoned his fault. A good and holy man was apprised of these events, and said:— “In order to conciliate the good-will of friends, it were better to sell our patrimonial garden; in order to boil the pot of well-wishers, it were good to convert our household furniture into fire-wood. Do good even to the wicked; it is as well to shut a dog’s mouth with a crumb.”

XXXIV

One of Harun-al-Rashid’s children went up to his father in a passion, saying, “A certain officer’s son has abused me in my mother’s name.” Harun asked his ministers, “What ought to be such a person’s punishment?” One made a sign to have him put to death; another to have his tongue cut out; and a third, to have him fined and banished. Harun said: “O my child! it were generous to forgive him; but if you have not resolution to do that, do you abuse his mother in return, yet not to such a degree as to exceed the bounds of retaliation, for in that case the injury would be on our part, and the complaint on that of the antagonist. — In the opinion of the prudent he is no hero that can dare to combat a furious elephant; but that man is in truth a hero who, when provoked to anger, will not speak intemperately. A cross-grained fellow abused a certain person; he bore it patiently, and said, O well-disposed man! I am still more wicked than thou art calling me; for I know my defects better than thou canst know them.”

XXXV

I was seated in a vessel, along with some persons of distinction, when a boat sunk astern of us and two brothers were drawn into the whirlpool. One of our gentlemen called to the pilot, saying, “Save those two drowning men and I will give you a hundred dinars.” The pilot went and rescued one of them, but the other perished. I observed, “That man’s time was come, therefore you were tardy in assisting him, and alert in saving this other.” The pilot smiled, and replied, “What you say is the essence of inevitable necessity; yet was my zeal more hearty in rescuing this one, because on an occasion when I was tired in the desert he set me on a camel; whereas, when a boy, I had received a horsewhipping from that other.” — God Almighty was all justice and equity: whoever labored unto good experienced good in himself; and he who toiled unto evil experienced evil. — So long as thou art able grate nobody’s heart, for in this path there must be thorns. Expedite the concerns of the poor and needy; for thy own concerns may need to be expedited.

* * * * *

XXXVII

A person announced to Nushirowan the Just, saying, “I have heard that God, glorious and great, has removed from this world a certain man who was your enemy.” He said, “Have you had any intelligence that he has overlooked me? In the death of a rival I have no room for exultation, since my life also is not to last forever.”

XXXVIII

At the court of Kisra, or Nushirowan, a cabinet council was debating some state affair. Abu-zarchamahr, who sat as president, was silent. They asked him, “Why do you not join us in this discussion?” He replied, “Such ministers of state are like physicians, and a physician will prescribe a medicine only to a sick man; accordingly, so long as I see that your opinions are judicious, it were ill-judged in me to obtrude a word. — While business can proceed without my interference, it does not behoove me to speak on the subject; but were I to see a blind man walking into a pit, I would be much to blame if I remained silent.”

XXXIX

When he reduced the kingdom of Misr, or Egypt, to obedience, Harun-al-Rashid said, “In contempt of that impious rebel (Pharaoh), who, in his pride of the sovereignty of Egypt, boasted a divinity, I will bestow its government only on the vilest of my slaves.” He had a negro bondsman, called Khosayib, preciously stupid, and him he appointed to rule over Egypt. They tell us that his judgment and understanding were such, that when a body of farmers complained to him, saying, “We had planted some cotton shrubs on the banks of the Nile, and the rains came unseasonably, and swept them all away;” — he replied, “You ought to sow wool, that it might not be swept away!” A good and holy man heard this, and said: “Were our fortune to be increased in proportion to our knowledge, none could be scantier than the share of the fool; but fortune will bestow such wealth upon the ignorant as shall astonish a hundred of the learned. Power and fortune depend not on knowledge, they are obtained only through the aid of heaven; for it has often happened in this world that the illiterate are honored, and the wise held in scorn. The fool in his idleness found a treasure under a ruin; the chemist, or projector, fell the victim of disappointment and chagrin.”

CHAPTER II. Of the Morals of Dervishes

I

A person of distinction asked a parsa, or devout and holy man, saying, “What do you offer in justification of a certain abid, another species of Mohammedan monk, whose character others have been so ready to question?” He replied: “In his outward behavior I see nothing to blame, and with the secrets of his heart I claim no acquaintance. — Whomsoever thou seest in a parsa’s habit, consider him a parsa, or holy, and esteem him as a good man; and if thou knowest not what is passing in his mind, what business has the mohtasib, or censor, with the inside of the house?”

II

I saw a dervish who, having laid his head at the fane of the Cabah of Mecca, was complaining and saying, “O gracious, O merciful God! thou knowest what can proceed from the sinful and ignorant that may be worthy of thy acceptance! — I brought my excuse of imperfect performance, for I have no claim on the score of obedience. The wicked repent them of their sins; such as know God confess a deficiency of worship.”

Abids, or the pious, seek a reward of their devotion, merchants a profit on their traffic. I, a devoted servant, have brought hope, not obedience, and have come as a beggar, and not for lucre! — Do unto me what is worthy of thyself; but deal not with me as I myself have deserved. — Whether thou wilt slay me or pardon my offence, my head and face are prostrate at thy threshold. Thy servant has no will of his own; whatever thou commandest, that he will perform. At the door of the Cabah I saw a petitioner, who was praying and weeping bitterly. I ask not, saying, “Approve of my obedience, but draw the pen of forgiveness across my sins.”

III

Within the sanctuary of the Cabah, at Mecca, I saw Abd-u’l-cadur the Gilani, who having laid his face upon the Hasa, or black stone, was saying, “Spare and pardon me, O God! and if, at all events, I am doomed to punishment, raise me up at the day of resurrection blindfolded, that I may not be put to shame in the eyes of the righteous.” Every morning when the day begins to dawn, with my face in the dust of humility, I am saying, “O thou, whom I never can forget, dost thou ever bestow a thought on thy servant?”

IV

A thief got into a holy man’s cell; but, however much he searched, he could find nothing to steal, and was going away disappointed. The good soul was aware of what was passing, and taking up the rug on which he had slept, he put it in his way that he might not miss his object. — I have heard that the heroes on the path of God will not distress the hearts of their enemies. How canst thou attain this dignified station who art at strife and warfare with thy friends?

The loving kindness of the righteous, whether before your face or behind your back, is not such that they will censure you when absent, and offer to die for you when present. — Face to face meek as a lamb, behind your back like a man-devouring wolf. Whoever brings you, and sums up the faults of others, will doubtless expose your defects to them.

V

Some travelling mendicants had agreed to club in a body and participate in the cares and comforts of society. I expressed a wish that I might be one of the party, but they refused to admit me. I said: “It is rare and inconsistent with the generous dispositions of dervishes to turn their faces from a good-fellowship with the poor, and to deny them its benefits, for on my part I feel such a zeal and good-will, that in the service of the liberal I am likely to prove rather an active associate than a grievous load. — Though not one of those who are mounted on the camels, I will do my best, that I may carry their saddle-cloths.”

One of them answered and said: “Be not offended at what you have heard, for some days back a thief joined us in the garb of a dervish, and strung himself upon the cord of our acquaintance. — How can people know what he is that wears that dress? The writer can alone tell the contents of the letter.” In consequence of that reverence in which the dervish character is held, they did not think of his profligacy and admitted him into their society. The outward character of the holy is a patched cloak; this much is sufficient, that it has a threadbare hood. Be industrious in thy calling, and wear whatever dress thou choosest. Put a diadem on thy head, and bear a standard on thy shoulder. Holiness does not consist in a coarse frock. Let a zahid, or holy man, be truly pious, and he may dress in satin. Sanctity is not merely a change of dress; it is an abandonment of the world, its pomp and vanity. It requires a hero to wear a coat of mail, for what would it profit to dress an hermaphrodite, or coward, in a suit of armor?

In short we had one day travelled till dark, and at night composed ourselves for sleep under the wall of a castle. That graceless thief took up his neighbor’s ewer, saying, “I am going to my ablutions;” and he was setting out for plunder. Behold a religious man, who threw a patched cloak over his shoulders; he made the covering of the Cabah the housing of an ass. So soon as he got out of the sight of the dervishes, he scaled a bastion of the fort and stole a casket. Before break of day that gloomy-minded robber had got a great way off, and left his innocent companions asleep. In the morning they were all carried into the citadel, and thrown into a dungeon. From that time we have declined any addition to our party, and kept apart to ourselves, for there is safety in unity, but danger in duality or a multitude. — When an individual of a sect committed an act of folly, the high and the low sunk in their dignity. Dost thou not see that one ox in a pasturage will cast a slur upon all the oxen of the village?

I said: “Let there be thanksgiving to a Deity of majesty and glory that I am not forbid the benefits of dervishes, notwithstanding I am in appearance excluded from their society; and I am instructed by this narration, and others like me may profit by its moral during their remaining lives. — From one indiscreet person in an assembly a host of the prudent may get hurt. If they fill a cistern to the brim with rose-water, and let a dog fall into it, the whole will be contaminated.”

VI

A zahid was the guest of a king. When he sat down at table he ate more sparingly from that than his appetite inclined him, and when he stood up at prayers he continued longer at them than it was his custom; that they might form a high opinion of his sanctity. — I fear, O Arab! that thou wilt not reach the Caabah; for the road that thou art taking leads to Turkistan, or the region of infidels.

When he returned home he ordered the table to be spread that he might eat. His son was a youth of a shrewd understanding. He said: “O father, perhaps you ate little or nothing at the feast of the king?” He answered, “In his presence I ate scarce anything that could answer its purpose!” Then retorted the boy, “Repeat also your prayers, that nothing be omitted that can serve a purpose.” Yes, thy virtues thou hast exposed in the palm of thy hand, thy vices thou hast hid under thy arm-pit. Take heed, O hypocrite, what thou wilt be able to purchase with this base money on the day of need or day of judgment.

VII

I remember that in my early youth I was overmuch religious and vigilant, and scrupulously pious and abstinent. One night I sat up in attendance on my father, on whom be God’s mercy, never once closed my eyes during the whole night, and held the precious Koran open on my lap, while the company around us were fast asleep. I said to my father: “Not an individual of these will raise his head that he may perform his genuflections, or ritual of prayer; but they are all so sound asleep, that you might conclude they were dead.” He replied: “O emanation of your father, you had also better have slept than that you should thus calumniate the failings of mankind. — The braggart can discern only his own precious person; he will draw the veil of conceit all around him. Were fortune to bestow upon him God’s all-searching eye, he would find nobody weaker than himself.”

* * * * *

X

On one occasion, at the metropolitan mosque of Balbek, I was holding forth, by way of admonition to a congregation cold and dead at heart, and not to be moved from the materialism of this world into the paths of mysticism. I perceived that the spirit of my discourse was making no impression, nor were the sparks of my enthusiasm likely to strike fire into their humid wood. I grew weary of instructing brutes, and of holding up a mirror to an assembly of the blind; but the door of exposition was thrown open, and the chain of argument extended; and in explanation of this text in the Koran — We are nearer to him (God) than the vein of his neck. — I had reached that passage of my sermon where I thus express myself:— “Such a mistress as is closer to me in her affection than I am to myself, but this is marvellous that I am estranged from her. What shall I say, and to whom can I tell it, that she lies on my bosom and I am alienated from her.”

The intoxicating spirit of this discourse ran into my head, and the dregs of the cup still rested in my hand, when a traveller, as passing by, entered the outer circle of the congregation, and its expiring undulation lit upon him. He sent forth such a groan that the others in sympathy with him joined in lamentation, and the rawest of the assembly bubbled in unison. I exclaimed, “Praise be to God! those far off are present in their knowledge, and those near by are distant from their ignorance. If the hearer has not the faculty of comprehending the sermon, expect not the vigor of genius in the preacher. Give a scope to the field of inclination, that the orator may have room to strike the ball of eloquence over it.”

XI

One night in the desert of Mecca, from an excess of drowsiness, I had not a foot to enable me to proceed; and, laying my head on the earth, I gave myself up for lost, and desired the camel-driver to leave me to my fate. — How could the foot of the poor jaded pedestrian go on, now that the Bactrian dromedary got impatient of its burden? While the body of a fat man is getting lean, a lean man must fall the victim of a hardship.

The camel-driver replied: “O brother, holy Mecca is ahead, and the profane robber behind; if you come forward you escape, but if you stay here you die!” During the night journey of the caravan, and in the track of the desert, it is fascinating to dose under the acacia-thorn tree; but, on this indulgence, we must resign all thoughts of surviving it.

XII

I saw on the sea-shore a holy man who had been torn by a tiger, and could get no salve to heal his wound. For a length of time he suffered much pain, and was all along offering thanks to the Most High. They asked him, saying, “Why are you so grateful?” He answered, “God be praised that I am overtaken with misfortune and not with sin! Were that beloved friend, God, to give me over to death, take heed, and think not that I should be solicitous about life. I would ask, What hast thou seen amiss in thy poor servant that thy heart should take offence at me? for that could alone give me a moment’s uneasiness.”

XIII

Having some pressing occasion, a dervish stole a rug from the hut of a friend. The judge ordered that they should cut off his hand. The owner of the rug made intercession for him, saying, “I have forgiven him.” The judge replied, “At your instance I cannot relax the extreme sentence of the law.” He said: “In what you ordered you spoke justly. Nevertheless, whoever steals a portion of any property dedicated to alms must not suffer the forfeiture of his hand, for a religious mendicant is not the proprietor of anything; and whatever appertains to dervishes is devoted to the necessitous.” The judge withdrew his hand from punishing him, and by way of reprimand asked, “Had the world become so circumscribed that you could not commit a theft but in the dwelling of such a friend?” He answered, “Have you not heard what they have said, ‘Sweep everything away from the houses of your friends, but knock not at the doors of your enemies.’ When overwhelmed with calamity let not thy body pine in misery. Strip thy foes of their skins, and thy friends of their jackets.”

XIV

A king said to a holy man, “Are you ever thinking of me?” “Yes,” replied he, “at such time as I am forgetting God Almighty! He will wander all around whom God shall drive from his gate; and he will not let him go to another door whom he shall direct into his own.”

XV

One of the righteous in a dream saw a king in paradise, and a parsa, or holy man, in hell. He questioned himself, saying, “What is the cause of the exaltation of this, and the degradation of that, for we have fancied their converse?” A voice came from above, answering, “This king is in heaven because of his affection for the holy, and that parsa is in hell because of his connection with the kingly.” — What can a coarse frock, rosary, and patched cloak avail? Abstain from such evil works as may defile thee. There is no occasion to put a felt cowl upon thy head. Be a dervish in thy actions, and wear a Tartarian coronet.

XVI

A pedestrian, naked from head to foot, left Cufah with the caravan of pilgrims for Hijaz, or Mecca, and came along with us. I looked at and saw him destitute of every necessary for the journey; yet he was cheerfully pushing on, and bravely remarking:— “I am neither mounted on a camel nor a mule under a burden. I am neither the lord of vassals nor the vassal of a lord. I think not of present sorrows or past vanities, but breathe the breath of ease and live the life of freedom!”

A gentleman mounted on a camel said to him, “O dervish, whither are you going? return, or you must perish miserably.” He did not heed what he said, but entered the desert on foot and proceeded. On our reaching the palm plantation of Mahmud, fate overtook the rich man, and he died. The dervish went up to his bier and said, “I did not perish amidst hardship on foot, and you expired on a camel’s back.” A person sat all night weeping by the side of a sick friend. Next day he died, and the invalid recovered! — Yes! many a fleet horse perished by the way, and that lame ass reached the end of the journey. How many of the vigorous and hale did they put underground, and that wounded man recovered!

* * * * *

XVIII

In the territory of the Greeks a caravan was attacked by robbers, and plundered of much property. The merchants set up a lamentation and complaint, and besought the intercession of God and the prophet; but all to no purpose. — When the gloomy-minded robber is flushed with victory, what will he feel for the traveller’s despair.

Lucman, the fabulist and philosopher, happened to be among them. One of the travellers spoke to him, saying, “Direct some maxims of wisdom and admonition to them; perhaps they may restore a part of our goods; for it were a pity that articles of such value should be cast away.” He answered: “It were a pity to cast away the admonitions of wisdom upon them!” From that iron which the rust has corroded thou canst not eradicate the canker with a file. What purpose will it answer to preach to the gloomy-minded infidel? A nail of iron cannot penetrate into a piece of flint.

Perhaps the fault has been on our part (in not being charitable), as they have said:— “On the day of thy prosperity remember the bankrupt and needy, for by visiting the hearts of the poor with charity thou shalt divert calamity. When the beggar solicits alms from thee, bestow it with a good grace; otherwise the tyrant may come and take it by force.”

* * * * *

XX

They asked Lucman, the fabulist, “From whom did you learn manners?” He answered, “From the unmannerly, for I was careful to avoid whatever part of their behavior seemed to me bad.” They will not speak a word in joke from which the wise cannot derive instruction; let them read a hundred chapters of wisdom to a fool, and they will all seem but a jest to him.

XXI

They tell a story of an abid, who in the course of a night would eat ten mans, or pounds, of food, and in his devotions repeat the whole Koran before morning. A good and holy man heard this, and said, “Had he eaten half a loaf of bread, and gone to sleep, he would have done a more meritorious act.” Keep thy inside unencumbered with victuals, that the light of good works may shine within thee; but thou art void of wisdom and knowledge, because thou art filled up to the nose with food.

XXII

The divine favor had placed the lamp of grace in the path of a wanderer in forbidden ways, till it directed him into the circle of the righteous, and the blessed society of dervishes, and their spiritual co-operation enabled him to convert his wicked propensities into praiseworthy deeds, and to restrain himself in sensual indulgences; yet were the tongues of calumniators questioning his sincerity, and saying, He retains his original habits, and there is no trusting to his piety and goodness. — By the means of repentance thou mayest get delivered from the wrath of God, but there is no escape from the slanderous tongue of man. — He was unable to put up with the virulence of their remarks, and took his complaint to his ghostly father, saying, “I am much troubled by the tongues of mankind.” The holy man wept, and answered, “How can you be sufficiently grateful for this blessing, that you are better than they represent you? — How often wilt thou call aloud saying, The malignant and envious are calumniating wretched me, that they rise up to shed my blood, and that they sit down to devise me mischief. Be thou good thyself, and let people speak evil of thee; it is better than to be wicked, and that they should consider thee as good.” — But, on the other hand, behold me, of whose perfectness all entertain the best opinion, while I am the mirror of imperfection. — Had I done what they have said, I should have been a pious and moral man. — Verily, I may conceal myself from the sight of my neighbor, but God knows what is secret and what is open. — There is a shut door between me and mankind, that they may not pry into my sins; but what, O Omniscience! can a closed door avail against thee, who art equally informed of what is manifest or concealed?

XXIII

I lodged a complaint with one of our reverend Shaikhs, saying: “A certain person has borne testimony against my character on the score of lasciviousness.” He answered, “Shame him by your continence. — Be thou virtuously disposed, that the detractor may not have it in his power to indulge his malignity. So long as the harp is in tune, how can it have its ear pulled (or suffer correction by being put in tune) by the minstrel?”

XXIV

They asked one of the Shaikhs of Sham, or Syria, saying: “What is the condition of the Sufi sect?” He answered, “Formerly they were in this world a fraternity dispersed in the flesh, but united in the spirit; but now they are a body well clothed carnally, and ragged in divine mystery.” Whilst thy heart will be every moment wandering into a different place, in thy recluse state thou canst not see purity; but though thou possessest rank and wealth, lands and chattels, if thy heart be fixed on God, thou art a hermit.

XXV

On one occasion we had marched, I recollect, all the night along with the caravan, and halted towards morning on the skirts of the wilderness. One mystically distracted, who accompanied us on that journey, set up a loud lamentation at dawn, went a-wandering into the desert, and did not take a moment’s rest. Next day I said to him, “What condition was that?” He replied, “I remarked the nightingales that they had come to carol in the groves, the pheasants to prattle on the mountains, the frogs to croak in the pools, and the wild beasts to roar in the forests, and thought with myself, saying, It cannot be generous that all are awake in God’s praise and I am wrapt up in the sleep of forgetfulness! — Last night a bird was carolling towards the morning; it stole my patience and reason, my fortitude and understanding. My lamentation had perhaps reached the ear of one of my dearly-beloved friends. He said, ‘I did not believe that the singing of a bird could so distract thee!’ I answered, This is not the duty of the human species, that the birds are singing God’s praise and that I am silent.”

XXVI

Once, on a pilgrimage to Hijaz, I was the fellow-traveller of some piously-disposed young men, and on a footing of familiarity and intimacy with them. From time to time we were humming a tune and chanting a spiritual hymn, and an abid, who bore us company, kept disparaging the morals of the dervishes, and was callous to their sufferings, till we reached the palm plantation of the tribe of Hulal, when a boy of a tawny complexion issued from the Arab horde and sung such a plaintive melody as would arrest the bird in its flight through the air. I remarked the abid’s camel that it kicked up and pranced, and, throwing the abid, danced into the wilderness. I said: “O reverend Shaikh! that spiritual strain threw a brute into an ecstasy, and it is not in like manner working a change in you! — Knowest thou what that nightingale of the dawn whispered to me? What sort of man art thou, indeed, who art ignorant of love? — The camel is in an ecstasy of delight from the Arab’s song. If thou hast no taste to relish this, thou art a cross-grained brute. — Now that the camel is elated with rapture and delight, if a man is insensible to these he is an ass. — The zephyr, gliding through the verdure on the earth, shakes the twig of the ban-tree, but moves not the solid rock. — Whatever thou beholdest is loud in extolling him. That heart which has an ear is full of the divine mystery. It is not the nightingale that alone serenades his rose; for every thorn on the rose-bush is a tongue in his or God’s praise!”

XXVII

A king had reached the end of his days and had no heir to succeed him. He made his will, stating, “You will place the crown of sovereignty upon the head of whatever person first enters the city gate in the morning, and commit the kingdom to his charge.” It happened that the first man that presented himself at the city gate was a beggar, who had passed his whole life in scraping broken meat and in patching rags. The ministers of state and nobles of the court fulfilled the conditions of the king’s will, and laid the keys of the treasury and citadel at his feet.

For a time the dervish governed the kingdom, till some of the chiefs of the empire swerved from their allegiance, and the princes of the territories on every side rose in opposition to him, and levied armies for the contest. In short, his troops and subjects were routed and subdued, and several of his provinces taken from him.

The dervish was hurt to the soul at these events, when one of his old friends, who had been the companion of his state of poverty, returned from a journey and found him in such dignity. He exclaimed: “Thanksgiving be to a Deity of majesty and glory that lofty fortune succored you and prosperity was your guide, till roses issued from your thorns and the thorns were extracted from your feet, and till you arrived at this elevated rank! — Along with hardship there is ease; or, to sorrow succeeds joy. — The plant is at one season in flower and at another withered; the tree is at one time naked and at another clothed with leaves.” He said: “O, my dear friend, offer me condolence, for here is no place for congratulation. When you last saw me I had to think of getting a crumb of bread; now I have the cares of a whole kingdom on my head. If the world be adverse, we are the victims of pain; if prosperous, the fettered slaves of affection for it. Amidst this life no calamity is more afflicting than that, whether fortunate or not, the mind is equally disquieted. If thou covetest riches, ask not but for contentment, which is an immense treasure. Should a rich man throw money into thy lap, take heed, and do not look upon it as a benefit; for I have often heard from the great and good that the patience of the poor is more meritorious than the gift of the rich. Were King Bahram Ghor to distribute a whole roasted elk, it would not be equal to the gift of a locust’s leg from an ant.”

XXVIII

A person had a friend who was holding the office of king’s divan, or prime minister, and it happened that he had not seen him for some time. Somebody remarked, saying, “It is some time since you saw such a gentleman.” He answered, “I am no ways anxious about seeing him.” One of the divan’s people chanced to be present. He asked, “What has happened amiss that you should dislike to visit him?” He replied, “There is no dislike; but my friend, the divan, can be seen at a time when he is out of office, and my idle intrusion might not come amiss.” Amidst the state patronage and authority of office they might take umbrage at their acquaintance; but on the day of vexation and loss of place they would impart their mental disquietudes to their friends.

XXIX

Abu-Horairah was making a daily visit to the prophet Mustafa Mohammed, on whom be God’s blessing and peace. He said: “O Abu-Horairah! let me alone every other day, that so affection may increase; that is, come not every day, that we may get more loving!”

They said to a good and holy man, “Notwithstanding all these charms which the sun commands, we have never heard of anybody that has fallen in love with him!” He answered, “It is because he is seen every day, unless during the winter, when he is veiled (in the clouds), and thus much coveted and loved.” — To visit mankind has no blame in it, but not to such a degree as to let them say, Enough of it. If we see occasion to interrogate ourselves, we need not listen to the reprehension of others.

XXX

Having taken offence with the society of my friends at Damascus, I retired into the wilderness of the Holy Land, or Jerusalem, and sought the company of brutes till such time as I was made a prisoner by the Franks, and employed by them, along with some Jews, in digging earth in the ditches of Tripoli. At length one of the chiefs of Aleppo, between whom and me an intimacy had of old subsisted, happening to pass that way, recognized me, and said, “How is this? and how came you to be thus occupied?” I replied: “What can I say? — I was flying from mankind into the forests and mountains, for my resource was in God and in none else. Fancy to thyself what my condition must now be, when forced to associate with a tribe scarcely human? — To be linked in a chain with a company of acquaintance were pleasanter than to walk in a garden with strangers.”

He took pity on my situation; and, having for ten dinars redeemed me from captivity with the Franks, carried me along with him to Aleppo. Here he had a daughter, and her he gave me in marriage, with a dower of a hundred dinars. Soon after this damsel turned out a termagant and vixen, and discovered such a perverse spirit and virulent tongue as quite unhinged all my domestic comfort. — A scolding wife in the dwelling of a peaceful man is his hell, even in this world. Protect and guard us against a wicked inmate. Save us, O Lord, and preserve us from the fiery, or hell, torture.

Having on one occasion given a liberty to the tongue of reproach, she was saying, “Are you not the fellow whom my father redeemed from the captivity of the Franks for ten dinars?” I replied, “Yes, I am that same he delivered from captivity for ten dinars, and enslaved me with you for a hundred!” I have heard that a reverend and mighty man released a sheep from the paws and jaws of a wolf. That same night he was sticking a knife into its throat, when the spirit of the sheep reproached him, saying, “Thou didst deliver me from the clutches of a wolf, when I at length saw that thou didst prove a wolf to me thyself.”

* * * * *

XXXIII

One of the holy men of Syria had passed many years of devotion in the wilderness, and was feeding on the leaves of trees. The king of that country, in the way of a pilgrimage, visited him, and said, “If you can see the propriety of removing into my capital I will prepare an abode, where you may perform your devotions more at ease than in this place, and others may benefit by the blessing of your spiritual communion, and be edified by the example of your pious labors.” The hermit was adverse to this advice, and turned away his face. One of the king’s ministers spoke to him, saying: “For the satisfaction of his Majesty, it were proper that you would for a few days remove into the city, and ascertain the nature of the place; when, if it should prove that your purity might be tarnished by coming in contact with the wicked, you have still the option left of moving back.”

It is reported that they prevailed on the hermit to accompany them into the city; and, in a garden near the sacred residence of the king, prepared for him a dwelling, which, like the mansions of paradise, was rejoicing the heart, and exhilarating the soul. — Its damask roses were blooming as the cheeks of the lovely, and its tufted spikenard like the ringlets of our mistresses. It had as much to fear from the angry blasts of winter as the babe who has not yet tasted its nurse’s milk: boughs of trees on which hung crimson flowers, that gleamed like a flame amidst their dusky foliage.

Forthwith the king sent him a moon-faced damsel. — Such was this delicate crescent of the moon, and fascination of the holy, this form of an angel, and decoration of a peacock, that let them once behold her, and continence must cease to exist in the constitutions of the chaste.

And, in like manner, there followed her a youth of such rare beauty and exquisite symmetry, that the powerful grasp of his charms had broken the wrists of the pious, and tied up behind their backs the arms of the upright. — Mankind stand around him parched with thirst, whilst he, who seems thy cup-bearer, will give thee no drink. — The eye could not be satiated by beholding him, like the dropsical man with water by looking at the river Euphrates.

The hermit began to relish dainty food, and to wear sumptuous apparel; to regale himself with fruits, perfumes, and sweetmeats; and to behold with delight the charms of the handmaid and bondsman. And the wise have said, “The ringlets of the lovely are a chain on the feet of reason, and a snare for the bird of wisdom.” — To the mystery of thy service I devoted my heart, religion, and all my mental faculties; verily, I am now the bird of reason, and thou art the lure and bait.

In short, the good fortune of his many years of sanctity ran to waste, as has been said:— “Whatever he had laid up from theologician, sage, or saint, or of recondite knowledge from the eloquent and pure of spirit, now that he had stooped to mix with a vile world, like the feet of a fly he got entangled in its honey.”

The king had the curiosity of making him another visit, and found the hermit much altered from what he first saw of him. His face had become fair and ruddy, and his body plump and jolly; and he was reclining at his ease on cushions of brocade, and had the Houri-like damsel lolling by his side, and the fairy-formed youth holding a fly-flap of peacock’s feathers in his hand, and standing by him in attendance. The king congratulated him upon his portly appearance, and they entered together upon a variety of topics, till his majesty concluded by observing, “In this world I have an affection for these two orders of mankind, the learned and the recluse.” A philosophic vizir, and man of much worldly experience, happened to be present. He said: “O sire! such is the canon of affection that you should confer a benefit on each. Give money to the learned man, that he may teach others; and give nothing to the hermit, that he may remain an anchorite. — A zahid, or hermit, stands in need of neither diram nor dinar; when an anchorite takes either, look out for another. — Whoever is virtuously disposed, and holds a mystical communication with God, is sufficient of a hermit without requiring the bread of charity, or the crumbs of mendicity. The tapering finger of the lovely, and her soul-deluding ear-lobe, are decoration enough without a turquoise ring or ear-jewel. Tell that piously-disposed and serene-minded dervish that he needs not the bread of consecration or scraping of beggary; tell that handsome and fair-faced matron that she does not require paint, coloring, or jewelry. — When I have of my own, and covet what is another’s, if they esteem me not a hermit they treat me as I merit.”

XXXIV

Conformably with the above apologue, a king had a business of importance in hand. He said: “If this affair prosper to my wish I will distribute among the recluses a certain sum in dirams.” Now his object was accomplished, and mind made easy, he thought it incumbent to fulfil the condition of his eleemosynary vow, and gave a bag of dinars to a favorite servant, that he might distribute them among the anchorites. This was a discreet and considerate young man. He wandered about for the whole day; and, returning in the evening, kissed the bag of money, and laid it before the king, saying, “However much I sought after, I have met with no recluses!” The king answered, “What a story is this? for I myself know four hundred recluses within this city.” He said, “O sovereign of the universe! such as are recluses do not take money; and such as take money are not anchorites!” The king smiled, and observed to his courtiers, “However much I reverence and favor this tribe of God’s worshippers, this saucy fellow expresses for them a spite and ill-will; and, if you desire the truth, he has justice on his side. Instead of that hermit who took dirams and dinars, get hold of one who is more an anchorite.”

XXXV

They asked a profoundly-learned man, saying, “What is your opinion of consecrated bread, or almstaking?” He answered, “If with the view of composing their minds, and promoting their devotions, it is lawful to take it; but if monks collect for the sake of an endowment, it is forbidden. Good and holy men have received the bread of consecration for the sake of religious retirement; and are not recluses, that they may receive such bread.”

XXXVI

A dervish came to put up at a place where the master of the house was a gentleman of an hospitable disposition. He had as his guests an assembly of learned and witty men, each of whom was repeating such a jest, or anecdote, as is usual with the facetious. Having travelled across a desert, the dervish was much fatigued, and well-nigh famished. One of the company observed, in the way of pleasantry, “You must also repeat something.” The dervish answered, “I am not, like the others, overstocked with learning and wit, nor am I much read in books; and you must be satisfied with my reciting one distich.” One and all eagerly cried, “Let us hear it.” He said, “Hungry as I am, I sit by a table spread with food, like a bachelor at the entrance of a bath full of women!”

They applauded what he said, and ordered the tray to be placed before him. The lord of the feast said, “Stay your appetite, my friend! till my handmaids can prepare for you some forced meat.” He raised his head from the tray, and answered, “Say there is no need for forced meat on my tray, for a crust of plain bread is sufficient for one baked as I have been in the desert.”

XXXVII

A disciple complained to his ghostly father, saying, “What can I do, for I am much annoyed by the people, who are interrupting me with their frequent visits, and break in upon my precious hours with their impertinent intrusions.” He replied, “To such of them as are poor lend money, and from such as are rich ask some in loan; and neither of them will trouble you again.” Let a beggar be the harbinger of an army of Islam, or the orthodox, and the infidel will fly his importunity as far as the wall of China.

* * * * *

XXXIX

A drunken fellow had lain down to sleep on the highway, and was quite overcome with the fumes of intoxication. An abid was passing close by, and looking at him with scorn. The youth raised his head, and said, “Whenever they pass anything shameful they pass it with compassion. — Whenever thou beholdest a sinner, hide and bear with his transgressions: thou, who art aware of them, why not overlook my sins with pity? — Turn not away, O reverend sir! from a sinner; but look upon him with compassion. Though in my actions I am not a hero, do thou pass by as the heroic would pass me.”

XL

A gang of dissolute vagabonds broke in upon a dervish, used opprobrious language, and beat and ill-used him. In his helplessness he carried his complaint before his ghostly father, and said, “Thus it has befallen me.” He replied: “O my son! the patched cloak of dervishes is the garment of resignation; whosoever wears this garb, and cannot bear with disappointment, is a hypocrite, and to him our cloth is forbidden. — A vast and deep river is not rendered turbid by throwing into it a stone. That religious man who can be vexed at an injury is as yet a shallow brook. — If thou art subjected to trouble, bear with it; for by forgiveness thou art purified from sin. Seeing, O brother! that we are ultimately to become dust, be humble as the dust, before thou moulderest into dust.”

XLI

Hear what occurred once at Bagdad in a dispute that took place between a roll-up curtain and standard. Covered with the road-dust, and jaded with a march, the standard, in reproach, observed to the curtain: “Thou and I are gentlemen in livery; we are fellow-servants at the court of his majesty. I never enjoy a moment’s relief from duty; early and late I am equally marching. Thou hast never experienced any peril or a siege, the heavy sand of the desert or dust of a whirlwind; my foot is most forward in any enterprise. Then why art thou my superior in dignity? Thou art cared for by youths with faces splendid as the moon, and handled by damsels scenting like jasmine; while I am fallen into the hands of raw recruits, am rolled up on our march, and turned upside down.” The curtain answered: “I lay my head humble at the threshold, and hold it not up like thine, flaring in the face of heaven! Whoever is thus vainly rearing his crest exalts himself only to be humbled.”

XLII

A good and holy man saw a huge and strong fellow, who, having got much enraged, was storming with passion and foaming at the mouth. He asked, “What has happened to this man?” Somebody answered, “Such a one has given him bad names!” He said, “This paltry wretch is able to carry a thousand-weight of stone, and cannot bear with one light word! Cease to boast of thy strong arm and pretended manhood, infirm as thou art in mind, and mean in spirit. What difference is there between such a man and a woman? Though thou art strong of arm, let thy mouth utter sweet words; it is no proof of courage to thrust thy fist into another man’s face: — Though thou art able to tear the scalp off an elephant, if deficient in humanity, thou art no hero. The sons of Adam are formed from dust; if not humble as the dust, they fall short of being men.”

* * * * *

XLIV

A facetious old gentleman of Bagdad gave his daughter in marriage to a shoemaker. The flint-hearted fellow bit so deeply into the damsel’s lip that the blood trickled from the wound. Next morning the father found her in this plight; he went up to his son-in-law, and asked him, saying: “Lowborn wretch! what sort of teeth are these that thou shouldst chew her lips as if they were a piece of leather? I speak not in play what I have to say. Lay jesting aside, and take with her thy legal enjoyment. — When once a vicious disposition has taken root in the habit, the hand of death can only eradicate it.”

XLV

A doctor of laws had a daughter preciously ugly, and she had reached the age of womanhood; but, notwithstanding her dowry and fortune, nobody seemed inclined to ask her in marriage: — Damask or brocade but add to her deformity when put upon a bride void of symmetry.

In short, they were under the necessity of uniting her in the bonds of wedlock to a blind man. They add, that soon after there arrived from Sirandip, or Ceylon, a physician that could restore sight to the blind. They spoke to the law doctor, saying, “Why do you not get him to prescribe for your son-in-law?” He answered: “Because I am afraid he may recover his sight, and repudiate my daughter; for— ‘the husband of an ugly woman should be blind.’”

* * * * *

XLVIII

They asked a wise man which was preferable, munificence or courage? He answered, “Whoever has munificence has no need of courage.” On the tombstone of Bahram-gor was inscribed: “The hand of liberality is stronger than the arm of power. — Hatim Tayi remains not, yet will his exalted name live renowned for generosity to all eternity. Distribute the tithe of thy wealth in alms, for the more the gardener prunes his vine the more he adds to his crop of grapes.”

CHAPTER III. On the Preciousness of Contentment

I

A mendicant from the west of Africa had taken his station amidst a group of shopkeepers at Aleppo, and was saying: “O lords of plenty! had ye a just sense of equity, and we of contentment, all manner of importunity would cease in this world!” O contentment! do thou make me rich, for without thee there is no wealth. The treasure of patience was the choice of Lucman. Whoever has no patience has no wisdom.

II

There dwelt in Egypt two youths of noble birth, one of whom applied himself to study knowledge, and the other to accumulate wealth. In process of time that became the wisest man of his age, and this king of Egypt. Then was the rich man casting an eye of scorn upon his philosophic brother, and saying, “I have reached a sovereignty, and you remain thus in a state of poverty.” He replied: “O brother! I am all the more grateful for the bounty of a Most High God, whose name was glorified, that I have found the heritage of the prophets — namely, wisdom; and you have got the estate of Pharaoh and Haman — that is, the kingdom of Egypt. I am an emmet, that mankind shall tread under foot; not a hornet, that they shall complain of my sting. How can I sufficiently express my grateful sense of this blessing, that I possess not the means of injuring my fellow-creatures?”

III

I heard of a dervish who was consuming in the flame of want, tacking patch after patch upon his ragged garment, and solacing his mind with this couplet:— “I can rest content with a dry crust of bread and a coarse woollen frock, for the burden of my own exertion bears lighter than laying myself under obligation to another.” — Somebody observed to him, “Why do you sit quiet, while a certain gentleman of this city is so nobly disposed and universally benevolent, that he has girt up his loins in the service of the religious independents, and seated himself by the door of their hearts? Were he apprised of your condition, he would esteem himself obliged, and be happy in the opportunity of relieving it.” He said: “Be silent; for it is better to die of want than to expose our necessities before another, as they have remarked:— ‘Patching a tattered cloak, and the consequent treasure of content, are more commendable than petitioning the great for every new garment.’” By my troth, I swear it were equal to the torments of hell to enter into paradise through the interest of a neighbor.

IV

One of the Persian kings sent a skilful physician to attend Mohammed Mustafa, on whom be salutation. He remained some years in the territory of the Arabs; but nobody went to try his skill, or asked him for any medicine. One day he presented himself before the blessed prince of prophets, and complained, saying, “The king had sent me to dispense medicine to your companions; but, till this moment, nobody has been so good as to enable me to practise any skill that this your servant may possess.” The blessed messenger of God was pleased to answer, saying, “It is a rule with this tribe never to eat till hard pressed by hunger, and to discontinue their repast while they have yet an appetite.” The physician said, “This accounts for their health.” Then he kissed the earth of respect and took his leave. The physician will then begin to inculcate temperance, or to extend the finger of indulgence, when from silence his patient might suffer by excess, or his life be endangered by abstinence: — of course, the skill of the physician is advice, and the patient’s regimen and diet yield the fruits of health!

V

A certain person would be making vows of abstinence and breaking them. At last a reverend gentleman observed to him, “So I understand that you make a practice of eating to excess; and that any restraint on your appetite, namely, this vow, is weaker than a hair, and this voraciousness, as you indulge it, would break an iron chain; but the day must come when it will destroy you.” A man was rearing the whelp of a wolf; when full grown it tore its patron and master.

VI

In the annals of Ardishir Babagan it is recorded that he asked an Arabian physician, saying, “What quantity of food ought to be eaten daily?” He replied, “A hundred dirams’ weight were sufficient.” The king said, “What strength can a man derive from so small a quantity?” The physician replied: “So much can support you; but in whatever you exceed that you must support it. — Eating is for the purpose of living, and speaking in praise of God; but thou believest that we live only to eat.”

VII

Two dervishes of Khorasan were fellow-companions on a journey. One was so spare and moderate that he would break his fast only every other night, and the other so robust and intemperate that he ate three meals a day. It happened that they were taken up at the gate of a city on suspicion of being spies, and both together put into a place, the entrance of which was built up with mud. After a fortnight it was discovered that they were innocent, when, on breaking open the door, they found the strong man dead, and the weak one alive and well. They were astonished at this circumstance. A wise man said, “The contrary of this had been strange, for this one was a voracious eater, and not having strength to support a want of food, perished; and that other was abstemious, and being patient, according to his habitual practice, survived it. — When a person is habitually temperate, and a hardship shall cross him, he will get over it with ease; but if he has pampered his body and lived in luxury, and shall get into straitened circumstances, he must perish.”

VIII

A certain philosopher admonished his son against eating to an excess, because repletion made a man sick. The boy answered, “O father, hunger will kill. Have you not heard what the wits have remarked, To die of a surfeit were better than to bear with a craving appetite?” The father said, “Study moderation, for the Most High God has told us in the Koran:— ‘Eat ye and drink ye, but not to an excess:’ — eat not so voraciously that the food shall be regorged from thy mouth, nor so abstemiously that from depletion life shall desert thee: — though food be the means of preserving breath in the body. Yet, if taken to excess, it will prove noxious. If conserve of roses be frequently indulged in it will cause a surfeit, whereas a crust of bread, eaten after a long interval, will relish like conserve of roses.”

XI

In a battle with the Tartars, a gallant young man was grievously wounded. Somebody said to him, “A certain merchant has a stock of the mummy antidote; if you would ask him, he might perhaps accommodate you with a portion of it.” They say that merchant was so notorious for his stinginess, that— “If, in the place of his loaf of bread, the orb of the sun had been in his wallet, nobody would have seen daylight in the world till the day of judgment.”

The spirited youth replied: “Were I to ask him for this antidote, he might give it, or he might not; and if he did it might cure me, or it might not; at any rate, to ask such a man were itself a deadly poison!” Whatever thou wouldst ask of the mean, in obligation, might add to the body, but would take from the soul. — And philosophers have observed, that were the water of immortality, for example, to be sold at the price of the reputation, a wise man would not buy it, for an honorable death is preferable to a life of infamy. — Wert thou to eat colocynth from the hand of the kind-hearted, it would relish better than a sweetmeat from that of the crabbed.

XII

One of the learned had a large family and small means. He stated his case to a great man, who entertained a favorable opinion of his character. This one turned away from his solicitation, and viewed this prostitution of begging as discreditable with a gentleman of education. If soured by misfortune, present not thyself before a dear friend, for thou may’st also imbitter his pleasure. When thou bringest forward a distress, do it with a cheerful and smiling face, for an openness of countenance can never retard business. — They have related that he rose a little in the pension, but sunk much in the estimation of the great man. After some days, when he perceived this falling off in his affection, he said:— “Miserable is that supply of food which thou obtainest in the hour of need; the pot is put to boil, but my reputation is bubbled into vapor. — He added to my means of subsistence, but took from my reputation; absolute starving were better than the disgrace of begging.”

XIII

A dervish had a pressing call for money. Somebody told him a certain person is inconceivably rich; were he made aware of your want, he would somehow manage to accommodate it. He said, “I do not know him.” The other answered, “I will introduce you;” and having taken his hand, he brought him to that person’s dwelling. The dervish beheld a man with a hanging lip, and sitting in sullen discontent. He said nothing, and returned home. His friend asked, “What have you done?” He replied, “His gift I gave in exchange for his look: — Lay not thy words before a man with a sour face, otherwise thou may’st be ruffled by his ill-nature. If thou tellest the sorrows of thy heart let it be to him in whose countenance thou may’st be assured of prompt consolation.”

* * * * *

XV

They asked Hatim Tayi: “Have you ever met, or heard of, a person of a more independent spirit than yourself?” He answered: “Yes, one day I had made a sacrifice of forty camels, and invited the chief of every Arab tribe to a feast. Then I repaired to the border of the desert, where I met a wood-cutter, who had tied up his fagot to carry it into the city. I said, Why do you not go to the feast of Hatim, where a crowd have assembled round his carpet? He replied:— ‘Whoever can eat the bread of his own industry will not lay himself under obligation to Hatim Tayi.’ — And in him I met my superior in spirit and independence.”

XVI

The Prophet Moses, on whom be peace, saw a dervish who had buried his body, in his want of clothes to cover it, in the sand. He said: “O Moses, put up a prayer, that the Most High God would bestow a subsistence upon me, for I am perishing in distress.” The blessed Moses prayed accordingly, that God on high would succor him.

Some days afterwards, as he was returning from a conference with God on Mount Sinai, he met that dervish in the hands of justice, and a mob following him. He asked: “What has befallen this man?” They answered: “He had drunk wine and got into a quarrel, and having killed somebody, they are now going to exact retaliation.” — The God who set forth the seven climates of this world assigned to every creature its appropriate lot. Had that wretched cat been gifted with wings, she would not have left one sparrow’s egg on the earth. It might happen that were a weak man to get the ability, he would rise and domineer over his weak brethren.

The blessed Moses acknowledged the wisdom of the Creator of the universe, and, confessing his own presumption, repeated this verse of the Koran:— “Were God to spread abroad his stores of subsistence to servants, verily they would rebel all over the earth.” What happened, O vain man! that thou didst precipitate thyself into destruction? Would that the ant might not have the means of flying! — A mean person, when he has got rank and wealth, will bring a storm of blows upon his head. Was not this at last the adage of a philosopher, ‘That ant is best disposed of that has no wings.’ — The father is a man of much sweetness of disposition, but the son is full of heat and passions: — That Being, God, who would not make thee rich, must have known thy good better than thou couldst thyself know it.

XVII

I saw an Arab, who was standing amidst a circle of jewellers at Busrah, and saying: “On one occasion I had missed my way in the desert, and having no road-provision left, I had given myself up for lost, when all at once I found a bag of pearls. Never shall I forget that relish and delight, so long as I mistook them for parched wheat; nor that bitterness and disappointment, when I discovered that they were real pearls.” In the mouth of the thirsty traveller, amidst parched deserts and moving sands, pearl, or mother-of-pearl, were equally distasteful. To a man without provision, and knocked up in the desert, a piece of stone or of gold, in his scrip, is all one.

XVIII

An Arab, suffering under all the extremity of thirst in the desert, was saying:— “Would to God that yet, before I perish, I could but for one day gratify my wish: that a stream of water might dash against my knees, and I could fill my leathern flask or stomach with it.”

In like manner a traveller had got bewildered in the great desert, and had neither provisions nor strength left, yet a few dirams remained with him in his scrip. He kept wandering about, but could not find the path, and sunk under his fatigue. A party of travellers arrived where his body lay; they saw the dirams spread before him, and these verses written in the sand:— “Were he possessed of all the gold of Jafier (a famous gold refiner), a man without food could not satisfy his appetite. To a wretched mendicant, parched in the desert, a boiled turnip would relish better than an ingot of virgin silver.”

XIX

I had never complained of the vicissitudes of fortune, nor murmured at the ordinances of heaven, excepting on one occasion, that my feet were bare, and I had not wherewithal to shoe them. In this desponding state I entered the metropolitan mosque at Cufah, and there I beheld a man that had no feet. I offered up praise and thanksgiving for God’s goodness to myself, and submitted with patience to my want of shoes. — In the eye of one satiated with meat a roast fowl is less esteemed at his table than a salad; but to him who is stinted of food a boiled turnip will relish like a roast fowl.

XX

A king, attended by a select retinue, had, on a sporting excursion during the winter, got at a distance from any of his hunting seats, and the evening was closing fast, when they espied from afar a peasant’s cottage. The king said: “Let us repair thither for the night, that we may shelter ourselves from the inclemency of the weather.” One of the courtiers replied: “It would not become the dignity of the sovereign to take refuge in the cottage of a low peasant; we can pitch a tent here and kindle a fire.” The peasant saw what was passing; he came forward with what refreshments he had at hand, and, laying them before the king, kissed the earth of subserviency, and said: “The lofty dignity of the king would not be lowered by this condescension; but these gentlemen did not choose that the condition of a peasant should be exalted.” The king was pleased with this speech; and they passed the night at his cottage. In the morning he bestowed an honorary dress and handsome largess upon him. I have heard that the peasant was resting his hand for some paces upon the king’s stirrup, and saying: “The state and pomp of the sovereign suffered no degradation by his condescension in becoming a guest at the cottage of a peasant; but the corner of the peasant’s cap rose to a level with the sun when the shadow of such a monarch as thou art fell upon his head.”

XXI

They tell a story of an importunate mendicant who had amassed much riches. A certain king said: “It seems that you possess immense wealth, and I have a business of some consequence in hand. If you will assist me with a little of it, by way of a loan, when the public revenue is realized I will repay it and thank you to the bargain.” He replied: “O sire, it would ill become the sublime majesty of the sovereign of the universe to soil the hand of lofty enterprise with the property of such a mendicant as I am, which I have scraped together grain by grain.” He said: “There is no occasion to vex yourself, for I mean it for the Tartars, as impurities are suiting for the impure: — They said, ‘The compost of a dunghill is unclean.’ We replied, ‘That with it we will fill up the chinks of a necessary.’ — If the water of a Christian’s well is defiled, and we wash a Jew’s corpse in it, there is no sin.” I have heard that he disobeyed the royal command, questioned its justice, and resisted it with insolence. The king ordered that the exchequer stipulations should be put in force with rigidness and violence. When a business cannot be settled with fair words, we must of necessity make use of foul. When a man will not contribute of his own free will, if another enforces him he meets his desert.

XXII

I knew a merchant who had a hundred and fifty camels of burden and forty bondsmen and servants in his train. One night he entertained me at his lodgings in the island of Keish, in the Persian Gulf, and continued for the whole night talking idly, and saying: “Such a store of goods I have in Turkestan, and such an assortment of merchandise in Hindustan; this is the mortgage-deed of a certain estate, and this the security-bond of a certain individual’s concern.” Then he would say: “I have a mind to visit Alexandria, the air of which is salubrious; but that cannot be, for the Mediterranean Sea is boisterous. O Sa’di! I have one more journey in view, and, that once accomplished, I will pass my remaining life in retirement and leave off trade.” I asked: “What journey is that?” He replied: “I will carry the sulphur of Persia to Chin, where, I have heard, it will fetch a high price; thence I will take China porcelain to Greece; the brocade of Greece or Venice I will carry to India; and Indian steel I will bring to Aleppo; the glassware of Aleppo I will take to Yamin; and with the bardimani, or striped stuffs, of Yamin I will return to Persia. After that I will give up foreign commerce and settle myself in a warehouse.” He went on in this melancholy strain till he was quite exhausted with speaking. He said: “O Sa’di! do you too relate what you have seen and heard.” I replied:— “Hast thou not heard that in the desert of Ghor as the body of a chief merchant fell exhausted from his camel, he said, ‘Either contentment or the dust of the grave will fill the stingy eye of the worldly-minded.’”

* * * * *

XXIV

A weak fisherman got a strong fish into his net, but not having the power of mastering it, the fish got the better of him, and, dragging the net from his hand, escaped: — A bondsman went that he might take water from the brook; the brook came to rise and carried off the bondsman. On most occasions the net would bring out the fish; on this occasion the fish escaped, and took away the net. The other fishermen expressed their vexation, and reproached him, saying, “Such a fish came into your net, and you were not able to master it.” He replied: “Alas! my brethren, what could be done? It was not my day of fortune, and the fish had in this way another day left it. And they have said: ‘Unless it be his lot, the fisherman cannot catch a fish in the Tigris; and, except it be its fate, the fish will not die on the dry shore.’”

XXV

A person without hands or feet killed a milleped. A good and holy man passed by him at the time, and said: “Glory be to God! notwithstanding the thousand feet he had when his destiny overtook him, he was unable to escape from one destitute of hand or foot.” — When the life-plundering foe comes up behind, fate arrests the speed of the swift-going warrior. At the moment when the enemy might approach step by step it were useless to bend the kayani, or Parthian bow.

XXVI

I met a fat blockhead decked in rich apparel, and mounted on an Arab horse, with a turban of fine Egyptian linen on his head. A person said: “O Sa’di, how comes it that you see these garments of the learned on this ignorant beast?” I replied: “It is a vile epistle which has been written in golden letters:— ‘Verily this ass, with the resemblance of a man, has the carcase of a calf, and the voice or bleating of a calf.’ — Thou canst not say that this brute appears like a man, unless in his garments, turban, and outward form. Examine into all the ways and means of his existence, and thou shalt find nothing lawful but the shedding of his blood: — though a man of noble birth be reduced to poverty, imagine not that his lofty dignity can be lowered; and though he may secure his silver threshold with a hasp of gold, conclude not that a Jew can be thereby ennobled.”

XXVII

A thief said to a mendicant: “Are you not ashamed when you hold forth your hand to every mean fellow for a barleycorn of silver?” He replied: “It is better to hold forth the hand for one grain of silver than to have it cut off for one and a half dang.”

* * * * *

XXIX

I saw a dervish who had withdrawn into a cave, shut the door of communication between the world and himself, and with his lofty and independent eye viewed emperors and kings without awe or reverence: — Whoever opens to himself the door of mendicity, must continue a beggar till the day of his death. Put covetousness aside, and be independent as a prince; the neck of contentment can raise its head erect.

One of the sovereigns of those parts sent a message to him, stating: “So far I can rely on the generous disposition of his reverence, that he will one day favor me by partaking of my bread and salt, by becoming my guest.” The shaikh, or holy man, consented; for the acceptance of such an invitation accorded with the sunnat, or law and tradition of the prophet. Next day the king went to apologize for the trouble he had caused him. The abid rose from his place, took the king in his arms, showed him much kindness, and was full of his compliments. After he was gone, one of the shaikh’s companions asked him, saying: “Was not such condescending kindness as you this day showed the king contrary to what is usual; what does this mean?” He answered: “Have you not heard what they have said:— ‘It is proper to stand up and administer to him whom thou hast seated on thy carpet, or made thy guest.’”

He could so manage that, during his whole life, his ear should not indulge in the music of the tabor, cymbal, and pipe. He could restrain his eyes from enjoying the garden, and gratify his sense of smell without the rose or narcissus. Though he had not a pillow stuffed with down, he could compose himself to rest with a stone under his head; though he had no heart-solacer as the partner of his bed, he could hug himself to sleep with his arms across his breast. If he could not ride an ambling nag, he was content to take his walk on foot; only this grumbling and vile belly he could not keep under, without stuffing it with food.

CHAPTER IV. On the Benefit of Being Silent

I

I spoke to one of my friends, saying: “A prudent restraint on my words is on that account advisable, because in conversation there on most occasions occur good and bad; and the eyes of rivals only note what is bad.” He replied: “O brother! that is our best rival who does not, or will not, see our good! — The malignant brotherhood pass not by the virtuous man without imputing to him what is infamous: — To the eye of enmity, virtue appears the ugliest blemish; it is a rose, O Sa’di! which to the eyes of our rivals seems a thorn. The world-illuminating brilliancy of the fountain of the sun, in like manner, appears dim to the eye of the purblind mole.”

II

A merchant happened to lose a thousand dinars. He said to his son: “It will be prudent not to mention this loss to anybody.” The son answered: “O father, it is your orders, and I shall not mention it; but communicate the benefit so far, as what the policy may be in keeping it a secret.” He said: “That I may not suffer two evils: one, the loss of my money; another, the reproach of my neighbor; — Impart not thy grievances to rivals, for they are glad at heart, while praying, God preserve us; or there is neither strength nor power, unless it be from God!”

III

A sensible youth made vast progress in the arts and sciences, and was of a docile disposition; but however much he frequented the societies of the learned, they never could get him to utter a word. On one occasion his father said: “O my son, why do not you also say what you know on this subject?” He replied: “I am afraid lest they question me upon what I know not, and put me to shame: — Hast thou not heard of a Sufi who was hammering some nails into the sole of his sandal. An officer of cavalry took him by the sleeve, saying, ‘Come along, and shoe my horse.’ — So long as thou art silent and quiet, nobody will meddle with thy business; but once thou divulgest it, be ready with thy proofs.”

IV

A man, respectable for his learning, got into a discussion with an atheist; but, failing to convince him, he threw down his shield and fled. A person asked him, “With all your wisdom and address, learning and science, how came you not to controvert an infidel?” He replied: “My learning is the Koran, and the traditions and sayings of our holy fathers; but he puts no faith in the articles of our belief, and what good could it do to listen to his blasphemy?” To him whom thou canst not convince by revelation or tradition, the best answer is that thou shalt not answer him.

* * * * *

VI

They have esteemed Sahban Wabil as unrivalled in eloquence, insomuch that he could speak for a year before an assembly, and would not use the same word twice; or should he chance to repeat it, he would give it a different signification; and this is one of the special accomplishments of a courtier: — Though a speech be captivating and sweet, worthy of belief, and meriting applause, yet what thou hast once delivered thou must not repeat, for if they eat a sweetmeat once they find that enough.

VII

I overheard a sage, who was remarking: “Never has anybody acknowledged his own ignorance, excepting that person who, while another may be talking, and has not finished what he has to say, will begin speaking: — A speech, O wiseacre! has a beginning and an end; bring not one speech into the middle of another. A man of judgment, discretion, and prudence, delivers not his speech till he find an interval of silence.”

VIII

Some of the courtiers of Sultan Mahmud asked Husan Maimandi, saying: “What did the king whisper to you to-day on a certain state affair?” He said: “You are also acquainted with it.” They replied: “You are the prime minister; what the king tells you, he does not think proper to communicate to such as we are.” He replied: “He communicates with me in the confidence that I will not divulge to anybody; then why do you ask me?” A man of sense blabs not, whatever he may come to know; he should not make his own head the forfeit of the king’s secret.

IX

I was hesitating about the purchase of a dwelling-house. A Jew said: “I am an old housekeeper in this street: ask the character of this house from me and buy it, for it has no fault.” I replied: “True! only that you are its neighbor: — Any such house as has thee for its neighbor could scarce be worth ten dirams of silver; yet it should behoove us to hope that after thy death it may fetch a thousand.”

X

A certain poet presented himself before the chief of a gang of robbers, and recited a casidah, or elegy, in his praise. He ordered that they should strip off his clothes, and thrust him from the village. The naked wretch was going away shivering in the cold, and the village dogs were barking at his heels. He stooped to pick up a stone, in order to shy at the dogs, but found the earth frost-bound, and was disappointed. He exclaimed: “What rogues these villagers are, for they let loose their dogs, and tie up their stones!” The chief robber saw and overheard him from a window. He smiled at his wit, and, calling him near said: “O learned sir! ask me for a boon.” He replied, “I ask for my own garments, if you will vouchsafe to give them: — I shall have enough of boons in your suffering me to depart. — Mankind expects charity from others; I expect no charity from thee, only do me no injury.” The chief robber felt compassion for him. He ordered his clothes to be restored, and added to them a robe of fur and sum of money.

* * * * *

XII

A preacher of a harsh tone of voice fancied himself a fine-spoken man, and would hold forth at the mosque to a very idle purpose. You might say that the croaking of the raven of the desert was the burden of his chant, and this text of the Koran expressive of his manner: — The most abominable of noises is the braying of an ass:— “Whenever this ass of a preacher sets up a braying, his voice will make the city of Istakhar, or Persepolis, shake to its base.”

In reverence of his rank his townsmen indulged this defect, and would not distress him by remarking on it, till another preacher of those parts, actuated by a private pique, came on one occasion to tantalize him, and said, “I have seen you in a dream; may it prove fortunate!” He asked: “What have you seen?” He replied: “So it seemed in my vision that your voice had become harmonious, and mankind were charmed with your melodious cadences.” For a while the preacher bowed his head in thought, then raised it, and said: “What a fortunate vision is it that you had, that has made me sensible of my weakness! I am now aware that I have an unpleasant voice, and that the people are distressed at my delivery. I have vowed that I will henceforth preach only in a soft tone of voice.” I am distressed with the society of friends who extol my vices into virtues, my blemishes they view as excellences and perfections, my thorns they regard as roses and jasmines. Where is that rude and bold rival who will expose all my deformities?

XIII

At a mosque in the city of Sanjar, the capital of Khorasan, a person was volunteering to chant forth the call to prayers with so discordant a note as to drive all that heard him away in disgust. The intendant of that mosque was a just and well-disposed gentleman, who was averse to giving offence to anybody. He said: “O generous youth, there belong to this mosque some mowuzzins, or criers, of long standing, to each of whom I allow a monthly stipend of five dinars; now I will give you ten to go elsewhere.” To this he agreed, and took himself off. After a while he came to the nobleman, and said: “O my lord! you did me an injury when for ten dinars you prevailed upon me to quit this station, for where I went they offered me twenty to remove to another place, but I would not consent.” The nobleman smiled and replied: “Take heed, and do not accept them, for they may be content to give you fifty! — No person can with a mattock scrape off the clay from the face of a hard rock in so grating a manner as thy harsh voice is harrowing up my soul.”

XIV

A person with a harsh voice was reciting the Koran in a loud tone. A good and holy man went up to him, and asked: “What is your monthly stipend?” He answered, “Nothing.” “Then,” added he, “why give yourself so much trouble?” He said: “I am reading for the sake of God.” The good and holy man replied: “For God’s sake do not read: — for if thou chantest the Koran after this manner, thou must cast a shade over the glory of Islamism or Mussulman orthodoxy.”

CHAPTER V. On Love and Youth

I

They asked Husan Maimandi: “How comes it that Sultan Mahmud, who has so many handsome bondswomen, each of whom is the wonder of the world and most select of the age, entertains not such fondness and affection for any of them as he does for Ayaz, who can boast of no superiority of charms?” He replied: “Whatever makes an impression on the heart seems lovely in the eye. That person of whom the sultan makes choice must be altogether good, though a compendium of vice; but where he is estranged from the favor of the king none of the household will think of courting him.” Were a person to view it with a fastidious eye, the form of a Joseph might seem a deformity; but let him look with desire on a demon, and he will appear like an angel and cherub.

* * * * *

III

I saw a parsa, or holy man, so enamoured of a lovely person that he had neither fortitude to bear with, nor resolution to declare, his passion: and, however much he was the object of remark and censure, he would not forego this infatuation, and was saying:— “I quit not my hold on the skirt of thy garment, though thou may’st verily smite me with a sharp sword. Besides thee I have neither asylum nor defence; if I am to flee, I must take refuge with thee.”

On one occasion I reproached him, and said: “What is become of your precious reason, that a vile passion should thus master you?” He made a short pause, and replied:— “Wherever the king of love came, he left no room for the strong arm of chastity. How can that wretch live undefiled who has fallen in a quagmire up to the neck?”

IV

A certain person had lost his heart and abandoned himself to despair. The object of his desire was not such a dainty that he could gratify his palate with it, or a bird that he could lure it into his net, but a frightful precipice and overwhelming whirlpool: — When thy gold attracts not the charmer’s eye, dust or gold is of equal value with thee.

His friends admonished him, saying: “Put aside this vain fancy, for multitudes are in the durance and chains of this same passion which you are cherishing.” He sighed aloud, and replied: “Say to my friends, Do not admonish me, for my eye is fixed on the wish of her. With strength of wrist and power of shoulders warriors overwhelm their antagonists and charmers their lovers.” Nor can it be consistent with the condition of love that any thought of life should divert the heart from affection for its mistress: — Thou, who art the slave of thine own precious self, playest false in the affairs of love. If thou canst not make good a passage to thy mistress, it is the duty of a lover to perish in the attempt. — I persist when policy is no longer left me, though the enemy may cover me all over with the wounds of swords and arrows. If I can reach her I will seize her sleeve, or at all events proceed and die at her threshold.

His kindred, whose business it was to watch over his concerns, and to pity his misfortunes, gave him advice, and put upon him restraints, but all to no good purpose: — The physician is, alas! prescribing bitter-aloes, and his depraved appetite is craving sweetmeats! — Heardest thou what a charmer was saying in a whisper to one who had lost his heart to her: “So long as thou maintainest thine own dignity, of what value can my dignity appear in thine eye?”

They informed the princess who was the object of his infatuation, saying: “A youth of an amiable disposition and sweet flow of tongue is frequent in his attendance at the top of this plain; and we hear him delivering brilliant speeches and wonderful sallies of wit; it would seem that he has a mystery in his head and a flame in his heart, for he appears to be distractedly in love.” The princess was aware that she had become the object of his attachment, and that this whirlwind of calamity was raised by himself, and spurred her horse toward him. Now that the youth saw that it was the princess’ intention to approach him, he wept, and said:— “That personage who inflicted upon me a mortal wound again presented herself before me; perhaps she took compassion upon her own victim.” However, kindly she spoke, and asked, saying: “Who are you, and whence come you? what is your name, and what your calling?” the youth was so entirely overwhelmed in the ocean of love and passion that he absolutely could not utter a word:— “Couldst thou in fact repeat the seven Saba, or whole Koran by heart, if distracted with love, thou wouldst forget the alphabet”: — the princess continued: “Why do you not answer me? for I too am one of the sect of dervishes, nay, I am their most devoted slave.” On the strength of this sympathizing encouragement of his beloved, the youth raised his head amidst the buffeting waves of tempestuous passion, and answered:— “It is strange that with thee present I should remain in existence; that after thou camest to talk, I should have speech left me.” — This he said, and, uttering a loud groan, surrendered his soul up to God: — No wonder if he died by the door of his beloved’s tent; the wonder was, if alive, how he could have brought his life back in safety.

V

A boy at school possessed much loveliness of person and sweetness of conversation; and the master, from the frailty of human nature, was enamoured of his blooming skin. Like his other scholars, he would not admonish and correct him, but when he found him in a corner he would whisper in his ear:— “I am not, O celestial creature! so occupied with thee, that I am harboring in my mind a thought of myself. Were I to perceive an arrow coming right into it, I could not shut my eye from contemplating thee.”

On one occasion the boy said: “In like manner, as you inspect my duties, also animadvert on my tendency to vice, in order that if you discern any immorality in my behavior, which has met my own approbation, you can warn me against it, that I may correct it.” He replied: “O my child! propose this task to somebody else; for the light in which I view you reflects nothing but virtue.” That malignant eye, let it be plucked out in whose sight his virtue can seem vice. Hadst thou but one perfection and seventy faults, the lover could discern only that one perfection.

* * * * *

VII

A person who had not seen his friend for a length of time, said to him: “Where were you? for I have been very solicitous about you.” He replied, “It is better to be sought after than loathed.” Thou hast come late, O intoxicating idol! I shall not in a hurry quit my hold on thy skirt: — that mistress whom they see but seldom is at last more desired than she is whom they are cloyed with seeing.

The charmer that can bring companions along with her has come to quarrel; for she cannot be void of jealousy and discontent: — Whenever thou contest to visit me attended with comrades or rivals, though thou comest in peace yet thy object is hostile: — for one single moment that my mistress associated with a rival, it went well-nigh to slay me with jealousy. Smiling, she replied: “O Sa’di! I am the torch of the assembly; what is it to me if the moth consume itself?”

VIII

In former times, I recollect, a friend and I were associating together like two kernels within one almond shell. I happened unexpectedly to go on a journey. After some time, when I was returned, he began to chide me, saying: “During this long interval you never sent me a messenger.” I replied: “It vexed me to think that the eyes of a courier should be enlightened by your countenance, whilst I was debarred that happiness: — Tell my old charmer not to impose a vow upon me with her tongue; for I would not repent, were she to attempt it with a sword. Envy stings me to the quick, lest another should be satiated with beholding thee, till I recollect myself, and say: Nobody can have a satiety of that!”

IX

I saw a learned gentleman the captive of attachment for a certain person, and the victim of his reproach; and he would suffer much violence, and bear it with great patience. On one occasion I said, by way of admonition: “I know that in your attachment for this person you have no bad object, and that this friendship rests not on any criminal design; yet, under this interpretation, it accords not with the dignity of the learned to expose yourself to calumny, and put up with the rudeness of the rabble.” He replied: “O my friend, withdraw the hand of reproach from the skirt of my fatality, for I have frequently reflected on this advice which you offer me, and find it easier to suffer contumely on his account than to forego his company; and philosophers have said: ‘It is less arduous to persist in the labor of courting than to restrain the eye from contemplating a beloved object’: — Whoever devotes his heart to a soul deluder puts his beard or reputation into the hands of another. That person, without whom thou canst not exist, if he do thee a violence, thou must bear with it. The antelope, that is led by a string, cannot bound from this side to that. One day I asked a compact of my mistress; how often have I since that day craved her forgiveness! A lover exacts not terms of his charmer; I relinquished my heart to whatever she desired me, whether to call me up to her with kindness, or drive me from her with harshness she knows best, or it is her pleasure.”

X

In my early youth such an event (as you know) will come to pass. I held a mystery and intercourse with a young person, because he had a pipe of exquisite melody, and a form silver bright as the full moon:— “He is sipping the fountain of immortality, who may taste the down of his cheek; and he is eating a sweetmeat, who can fancy the sugar of his lips.”

It happened that something in his behavior having displeased me, I withdrew the skirt of communication, and removed the seal of my affection from him, and said: “Go, and take what course best suits thee; thou regardest not my counsel, follow thine own.” I overheard him as he was going, and saying:— “If the bat does not relish the company of the sun, the all-current brilliancy of that luminary can suffer no diminution.” He so expressed himself and departed, and his vagabond condition much distressed me: — the opportunity of enjoyment was lost, and a man is insensible to the relish of prosperity till he has tasted adversity: — return and slay me, for to die before thy face were far more pleasant than to survive in thy absence.

But, thanksgiving and praise to the Almighty, he did not return till after some interval, when that melodious pipe of David was cracked, and that handsome form of Joseph in its wane; when that apple his chin was overgrown with hair, like a quince, and the all-current lustre of his charms tarnished. He expected me to fold him in my arms; but I took myself aside and said: “When the down of loveliness flourished on thy cheek, thou drovest the lord of thy attractions from thy sight; now thou hast come to court his peace when thy face is thick set with fathahs and zammahs, or the bristles of a beard: — The verdant foliage of thy spring is turned yellow; place not thy kettle on my grate, for its fire is cooled. How long wilt thou display this pomp and vanity; hopest thou to regain thy former dominion? Make thy court to such as desire thee, sport thy airs on such as will hire thee: — The verdure of the garden, they have told us, is charming; that person (Sa’di) knows it who is relating that story; or, in other words, that the fresh-shooting down on their charmers’ cheeks is what the hearts of their admirers chiefly covet: — Thy garden is like a bed of chives: the more thou croppest it, the more it will shoot: — Last year thou didst depart smooth as an antelope, to-day thou art returned bearded like a pard. Sa’di admires the fresh-shooting down, not when each hair is stiff as a packing-needle: — Whether thou hast patience with thy beard, or weed it from thy face, this happy season of youth must come to a conclusion. Had I the same command of life as thou hast of beard, it should not escape me till doomsday.” I asked him and said: “What has become of the beauty of thy countenance, that a beard has sprung up round the orb of the moon?” He answered: “I know not what has befallen my face, unless it has put on black to mourn its departed charms.”

* * * * *

XII

They shut up a parrot in the same cage with a crow. The parrot was affronted at his ugly look, and said: “What an odious visage is this, a hideous figure; what an accursed appearance, and ungracious demeanor! — Would to God, O raven of the desert! we were wide apart as the east is from the west: — The serenity of his peaceful day would change into the gloom of night, who on issuing forth in the morning might cross thy aspect. An ill-conditioned wretch like thyself should be thy companion; but where could we find such another in the world?”

But what is more strange, the crow was also out of all patience, and vexed to the soul at the society of the parrot. Bewailing his misfortune, he was railing at the revolutions of the skies; and, wringing the hands of chagrin, was lamenting his condition, and saying: “What an unpropitious fate is this; what ill-luck, and untoward fortune! Could they any way suit the dignity of me, who would in my day strut with my fellow-crows along the wall of a garden: — It were durance sufficient for a good and holy man that he should be made the companion of the wicked: — What sin have I committed that my stars in retribution of it have linked me in the chain of companionship, and immured me in the dungeon of calamity, with a conceited blockhead, and good-for-nothing babbler: — Nobody will approach the foot of a wall on which they have painted thy portrait; wert thou to get a residence in paradise, others would go in preference to hell.”

I have introduced this parable to show that however much learned men despise the ignorant, these are a hundredfold more scornful of the learned: — A zahid, or holy man, fell in company with some wandering minstrels. One of them, a charmer of Balkh, said to him: “If thou art displeased with us, do not look sour, for thou art already sufficiently offensive. — An assemblage is formed of roses and tulips, and thou art stuck up amidst them like a withered stalk; like an opposing storm, and a chilling winter blast; like a ball of snow, or lump of ice.”

XIII

I had an associate, who was for years the companion of my travels, partook of the same bread and salt, and enjoyed the many rights of a confirmed friendship. At last, on some trifling advantage, he gave me cause of umbrage, and our intimacy ceased. And notwithstanding all this, there was a hankering of good-will on both sides; in consequence of which I heard that he was one day reciting in a certain assembly these two couplets of my writings:— “When my idol, or mistress, is approaching me with her tantalizing smiles, she is sprinkling more salt upon my smarting sores. How fortunate were the tips of her ringlets to come into my hand, like the sleeve of the generous in the hands of dervishes.” This society of his friends bore testimony, and gave applause, not to the beauty of this sentiment, but to the liberality of his own disposition in quoting it; while he had himself been extravagant in his encomiums, regretted the demise of our former attachment, and confessed how much he was to blame. I was made aware that he too was desirous of a reconciliation; and, having sent him these couplets, made my peace:— “Was there not a treaty of good faith between us, and didst not thou commence hostilities, and violate the compact? I relinquished all manner of society, and plighted my heart to thee; for I did not suspect that thou wouldst have so readily changed. If it still be thy wish to renew our peace, return, and be more dear to me than ever.”

XIV

A man had a beautiful wife, who died; but the mother, a decrepit old dotard, remained a fixture in his house, because of the dowry. He was teased to death by her company; but, from the circumstance of the dower, he had no remedy. In the meantime some of his friends having come to comfort him, one of them asked: “How is it with you, since the loss of that dear friend?” He answered: “The absence of my wife is not so intolerable as the presence of her mother: — They plucked the rose, and left me the thorn; they plundered the treasure, and let the snake remain. To have our eye pierced with a spear were more tolerable than to see the face of an enemy. It were better to break with a thousand friends than to put up with one rival.”

XV

In my youth I recollect I was passing through a street, and caught a glimpse of a moon-like charmer during the dog-days, when their heat was drying up the moisture of the mouth, and the samurn, or desert hot-wind, melting the marrow of the bones. From the weakness of human nature I was unable to withstand the darting rays of a noon-tide sun, and took refuge under the shadow of a wall, hopeful that somebody would relieve me from the oppressive heat of summer, and quench the fire of my thirst with a draught of water. All at once I beheld a luminary in the shadowed portico of a mansion, so splendid an object that the tongue of eloquence falls short in summing up its loveliness; such as the day dawning upon a dark night, or the fountain of immortality issuing from chaos. She held in her hand a goblet of snow-cooled water, into which she dropped some sugar, and tempered it with spirit of wine; but I know not whether she scented it with attar, or sprinkled it with a few blossoms from her own rosy cheek. In short, I received the beverage from her idol-fair hand; and, having drunk it off, found myself restored to a new life. “Such is not my parching thirst that it is to be quenched with the limpid element of water, were I to swallow it in oceans: — Joy to that happy aspect whose eye can every morning contemplate such a countenance as thine. A person intoxicated with wine lies giddy and awake half the night; but if intoxicated with the cup-bearer (God), the day of judgment must be his dawn or morning.”

XVI

In the year that Sultan Mohammed Khowarazm-Shah had for some political reason chosen to make peace with the king of Khota, I entered the metropolitan mosque at Kashghar, and met a youth incomparably lovely, and exquisitely handsome; such as they have mentioned in resemblance of him:— “Thy master instructed thee in every bold and captivating grace; he taught thee coquetry and confidence, tyranny and violence.” I have seen no mortal with such a form and temper, stateliness and manner; perhaps he learned these fascinating ways from an angel.

He held the introduction of the Zamakhshari Arabic grammar in his hand, and was repeating:— “Zaraba Zaidun Amranwa — Zaid beat Amru and is the assailant of Amru.” I said: “O my son! the Khowarazm and Khatayi sovereigns have made peace, and does war thus subsist between Zaid and Amru?” He smiled, and asked me the place of my nativity. I answered: “The territory of Shiraz.” He said: “Do you recollect any of Sa’di’s compositions?” I replied: “I am enamoured with the reader of the syntax, who, taking offence, assails me in like manner as Zaid does Amru. And Zaid, when read Zaidin, cannot raise his head; and how canst thou give a zammah to a word accented with a kasrah?”

He reflected a little within himself, and said: “In these parts we have much of Sa’di’s compositions in the Persian language; if you will speak in that dialect we shall more readily comprehend you, for you should address mankind according to their capacities.”

I replied: “Whilst thy passion was that of studying grammar, all trace of reason was erased from our hearts. Yes! the lover’s heart is fallen a prey to thy snare: we are occupied about thee, and thou art taken up with Amru and Zaid.”

On the morrow, which had been fixed on as the period of our stay, some of my fellow-travellers had perhaps told him such a one is Sa’di; for I saw that he came running up, and expressed his affection and regret, saying: “Why did you not during all this time tell us that a certain person is Sa’di, that I might have shown my gratitude by offering my service to your reverence.” I answered: “In thy presence I cannot even say that I am I!” — He said: “How good it were if you would tarry here for a few days, that we might devote ourselves to your service.” I replied: “That cannot be, as this adventure will explain to you: — In the hilly region I saw a great and holy man, who was content in living retired from the world in a cavern. I said: ‘Why dost thou not come into the city, that thy heart might be relieved from a load of servitude?’ He replied: ‘In it there dwell some wonderful and angel-faced charmers, and where the path is miry, elephants may find it slippery.’ — Having delivered this speech, we kissed each other’s head and face, and took our leaves: — What profits it to kiss our mistress’s cheek, and with the same breath to bid her adieu. Thou mightest say that the apple had taken leave of its friends by having this cheek red and that cheek yellow: — Were I not to die of grief on that day I say farewell, thou wouldst charge me with being insincere in my attachments.”

XVII

A ragged dervish accompanied us along with the caravan for Hijaz, and a certain Arab prince presented him with a hundred dinars for the support of his family. Suddenly a gang of Khafachah robbers attacked the caravan, and completely stripped it. The merchants set up a weeping and wailing, and made much useless lamentation and complaint:— “Whether thou supplicatest them, or whether thou complainest, the robbers will not return thee their plunder”: — all but that ragged wretch, who stood collected within himself, and unmoved by this adventure. I said: “Perhaps they did not plunder you of that money?” He replied: “Yes, they took it; but I was not so fond of my pet as to break my heart at parting with it. We should not fix our heart so on any thing or being as to find any difficulty in removing it.”

I said: “What you have remarked corresponds precisely with what once befell myself; for in my juvenile days I took a liking to a young man, and so sincere was my attachment that the Cabah, or fane, of my eye was his perfect beauty, and the profit of this life’s traffic his much-coveted society: — Perhaps the angels might in paradise, otherwise no living form can on this earth display such a loveliness of person. By friendship I swear that after his demise all loving intercourse is forbidden; for no human emanation can stand a comparison with him.

“All at once the foot of his existence stumbled at the grave of annihilation; and the sigh of separation burst from the dwelling of his family. For many days I sat a fixture at his tomb, and, of the many dirges I composed upon his demise, this is one:— ‘On that day, when thy foot was pierced with the thorn of death, would to God the hand of fate had cloven my head with the sword of destruction, that my eyes might not this day have witnessed the world without thee. Such am I, seated at the head of thy dust, as the ashes are seated on my own: — whoever could not take his rest and sleep till they first had spread a bed of roses and narcissuses for him: the whirlwind of the sky has scattered the roses of his cheek, and brambles and thorns are shooting from his grave.’

“After my separation from him I came to a steady and firm determination, that during my remaining life I would fold up the carpet of enjoyment, and never re-enter the gay circle of society: — Were it not for the dread of its waves, much would be the profits of a voyage at sea; were it not for the vexation of the thorn, charming might be the society of the rose. Yesterday I was walking stately as a peacock in the garden of enjoyment; to-day I am writhing like a snake from the absence of my mistress.”

XVIII.

To a certain king of Arabia they were relating the story of Laila and Mujnun, and his insane state, saying: “Notwithstanding his knowledge and wisdom, he has turned his face towards the desert, and abandoned himself to distraction.” The king ordered that they bring him into his presence; and he reproved him, and spoke, saying: “What have you seen unworthy in the noble nature of man that you should assume the manners of a brute, and forsake the enjoyment of human society?”

Mujnun wept and answered:— “Many of my friends reproach me for my love of her, namely Laila. Alas! that they could one day see her, that my excuse might be manifest for me! — Would to God that such as blame me could behold thy face, O thou ravisher of hearts! that at the sight of thee they might, from inadvertency, cut their own fingers instead of the orange in their hands: — Then might the truth of the reality bear testimony against the semblance of fiction, what manner of person that was for whose sake you were upbraiding me.”

The king resolved within himself, on viewing in person the charms of Laila, that he might be able to judge what her form could be which had caused all this misery, and ordered her to be produced in his presence. Having searched through the Arab tribes, they discovered and presented her before the king in the courtyard of his seraglio. He viewed her figure, and beheld a person of a tawny complexion and feeble frame of body. She appeared to him in a contemptible light, inasmuch as the lowest menial in his harem, or seraglio, surpassed her in beauty and excelled her in elegance. Mujnun, in his sagacity, penetrated what was passing in the royal mind, and said: “It would behoove you, O king, to contemplate the charms of Laila through the wicket of a Mujnun’s eye, in order that the miracle of such a spectacle might be illustrated to you. Thou canst have no fellow-feeling for my disorder; a companion to suit me must have the self-same malady, that I may sit by him the livelong day repeating my tale; for by rubbing two pieces of dry fire-wood one upon another they will burn all the brighter: — had that grove of verdant reeds heard the murmurings of love which in detail of my mistress’s story have passed through my ear, it would somehow have sympathised in my pain. Tell it, O my friends, to such as are ignorant of love; would ye could be aware of what wrings me to the soul: — the anguish of a wound is not known to the hale and sound; we must detail our aches only to a fellow-sufferer. It were idle to talk of a hornet to him who has never during his life smarted from its sting. Till thy condition may in some sort resemble mine, my state will seem to thee an idle fable. Compare not my pain with that of another man; he holds salt in his hand, but I hold it on a wounded limb.”

* * * * *

XX

There was a handsome and well-disposed young man, who was embarked in a vessel with a lovely damsel. I have read that, sailing on the mighty deep, they fell together into a whirlpool. When the pilot came to offer him assistance, saying: “God forbid that he should perish in that distress,” he was answering from the midst of that overwhelming vortex: “Leave me, and take the hand of my beloved!” The whole world admired him for this speech which, as he was expiring, he was heard to make. Learn not the tale of love from that faithless wretch who can neglect his beloved when exposed to danger. In this manner ended the lives of those lovers. Listen to what has happened, that you may understand; for Sa’di knows the ways and forms of courtship as well as the Tazi, or modern Arabic, is understood at Bagdad. Devote your whole heart to the heart-consoler you have chosen (namely, God), and let your eyes be shut to the whole world beside. Were Laila and Mujnun to return into life, they might read the history of love in this chapter.

CHAPTER VI. Of Imbecility and Old Age

I

In the metropolitan mosque at Damascus I was engaged in a disputation with some learned men, when a youth suddenly entered the door, and said: “Does any of you understand the Persian language?” They directed him to me, and I answered: “It is true.” He continued: “An old man of a hundred and fifty years of age is in the agonies of death, and is uttering something in the Persian language, which we do not understand. If you will have the goodness to go to him you may get rewarded; for he possibly may be dictating his will.” When I sat down by his bedside I heard him reciting:— “I said, I will enjoy myself for a few moments. Alas! that my soul took the path of departure. Alas! at the variegated table of life I partook a few mouthfuls, and the fates said, enough!”

I explained the signification of these lines in Arabic to the Syrians. They were astonished that, at his advanced time of life, he should express himself so solicitous about a worldly existence. I asked him: “How do you now find yourself?” He replied: “What shall I say? — Hast thou never witnessed what torture that man suffers from whose jaw they are extracting a tooth? Fancy to thyself how excruciating is his pain from whose precious body they are tearing an existence!”

I said: “Banish all thoughts of death from your mind, and let not doubt undermine your constitution; for the Greek philosophers have remarked that although our temperaments are vigorous, that is no proof of a long life; and that although our sickness is dangerous, that is no positive sign of immediate dissolution. If you will give me leave, I will call in a physician to prescribe some medicine that may cure you.” He replied: “Alas! alas! The landlord thinks of refreshing the paintings of his hall, and the house is tottering to its foundation. The physician smites the hands of despair when he sees the aged fallen in pieces like a potsherd; the old man bemoans himself in the agony of death while the old attendant nurse is anointing him with sandal-wood. When the equipoise of the temperament is overset, neither amulets nor medicaments can do any good.”

* * * * *

III

In the territory of Diarbekr, or Mesopotamia, I was the guest of an old man, who was very rich, and had a handsome son. One night he told a story, saying: “During my whole life I never had any child but this boy. And in this valley a certain tree is a place of pilgrimage, where people go to supplicate their wants; and many was the night that I have besought God at the foot of that tree before he would bestow upon me this boy.” I have heard that the son was also whispering his companions, and saying: “How happy I should be if I could discover the site of that tree, in order that I might pray for the death of my father.” The gentleman was rejoicing and saying: “What a sensible youth is my son!” and the boy was complaining and crying: “What a tedious old dotard is my father!” Many years are passing over thy head, during which thou didst not visit thy father’s tomb. What pious oblation didst thou make to the manes of a parent that thou shouldst expect so much from thy son?

IV

Urged one day by the pride of youthful vanity, I had made a forced march, and in the evening found myself exhausted at the bottom of an acclivity. A feeble old man, who had deliberately followed the pace of the caravan, came up to me and said: “How come you to lie down here? Get up, this is no fit place for rest.” I replied: “How can I proceed, who have not a foot to stand on?” He said: “Have you not heard what the prudent have remarked? ‘Going on, and halting, is better than running ahead and breaking down!’ Ye who wish to reach the end of your journey, hurry not on; practise my advice, and learn deliberation. The Arab horse makes a few stretches at full speed, and is broken down; while the camel, at its deliberate pace, travels on night and day, and gets to the end of his journey.”

V

An active, merry, cheerful, and sweet-spoken youth was for a length of time in the circle of my society, whose heart had never known sorrow, nor his lip ceased from being on a smile. An age had passed, during which we had not chanced to meet. When I next saw him he had taken to himself a wife, and got a family; and the root of his enjoyment was torn up, and the rose of his mirth blasted. I asked him: “How is this?” He replied: “Since I became a father of children, I ceased to play the child: — Now thou art old, relinquish childishness, and leave it to the young to indulge in play and merriment. Expect not the sprightliness of youth from the aged; for the stream that ran by can never return. Now that the corn is ripe for the sickle, it rears not its head as when green and shooting. The season of youth has slipt through my hands; alas! when I think on those heart-exhilarating days! The lion has lost the sturdy grasp of his paw: I must now put up, like a lynx, with a bit of cheese. An old woman had stained her gray locks black. I said to her: O, my antiquated dame! thy hair I admit thou canst turn dark by art, but thou never canst make thy crooked back straight.”

VI

One day, in the perverseness of youth, I spoke with asperity to my mother. Vexed at heart, she sat down in a corner, and with tears in her eyes was saying: “You have perhaps forgot the days of infancy, that you are speaking to me thus harshly. — How well did an old woman observe to her own son, when she saw him powerful as a tiger, and formidable as an elephant: ‘Couldst thou call to mind those days of thy infancy when helpless thou wouldst cling to this my bosom, thou wouldst not thus assail me with savage fury, now thou art a lion-like hero, and I am a poor old woman.’”

VII

A rich miser had a son who was grievously sick. His well-wishers and friends spoke to him, saying: “It were proper that you either read the Koran throughout or offer an animal in sacrifice, in order that the Most High God may restore him to health.” After a short reflection within himself he answered, “It is better to read the Koran, which is ready at hand; and my herds are at a distance.” A good and holy man heard this and remarked: “He makes choice of the reading part because the Koran slips glibly over the tongue, but his money is to be wrung from the soul of him. Fie upon that readiness to bow the head in prayer; would that the hand of charity could accompany it! In bestowing a dinar he will stickle like an ass in the mire; but ask him to read the Al-hamdi, or first chapter of the Koran, and he will recite it a hundred times.”

CHAPTER VII. Of the Impressions of Education

I

A certain nobleman had a dunce of a son. He sent him to a learned man, saying: “Verily you will give instruction to this youth, peradventure he may become a rational being.” He continued to give him lessons for some time, but they made no impression upon him, when he sent a message to the father, saying: “This son is not getting wise, and he has well-nigh made me a fool!” Where the innate capacity is good, education may make an impression upon it; but no furbisher knows how to give a polish to iron which is of a bad temper. Wash a dog seven times in the ocean, and so long as he is wet he is all the filthier. Were they to take the ass of Jesus to Mecca, on his return from that pilgrimage he would still be an ass.

II

A philosopher was exhorting his children and saying: “O emanations of my soul, acquire knowledge, as no reliance can be placed on worldly riches and possessions, for once you leave home rank is of no use, and gold and silver on a journey are exposed to the risk either of thieves plundering them at once, or of the owner wasting them by degrees; but knowledge is a perennial spring and ever-during fortune. Were a professional man to lose his fortune, he need not feel regret, for his knowledge is of itself a mine of wealth. Wherever he may sojourn the learned man will meet respect, and be ushered into the upper seat, whilst the ignorant man must put up with offal and suffer want: — If thou covet the paternal heritage, acquire thy father’s knowledge, for this thy father’s wealth thou may’st squander in ten days. After having been in authority, it is hard to obey; after having been fondled with caresses, to put up with men’s violence: — There once occurred an insurrection in Syria, and everybody forsook his former peaceful abode. The sons of peasants, who were men of learning, came to be employed as the ministers of kings; and the children of noblemen, of bankrupt understandings, went a begging from village to village.”

III

A certain learned man was superintending the education of a king’s son; and he was chastising him without mercy, and reproving him with asperity. The boy, out of all patience, complained to the king his father, and laid bare before him his much-bruised body. The king was much offended, and sending for the master, said: “You do not treat the children of my meanest subject with the harshness and cruelty you do my boy; what do you mean by this?” He replied: “To think before they speak, and to deliberate before they act, are duties incumbent upon all mankind, and more immediately upon kings; because whatever may drop from their hands and tongue, the special deed or word will somehow become the subject of public animadversion; whereas any act or remark of the commonalty attracts not such notice: — Let a dervish, or poor man, commit a hundred indiscretions, and his companions will not notice one out of the hundred; and let a king but utter one foolish word, and it will be echoed from kingdom to kingdom: — therefore in forming the morals of young princes, more pains are to be taken than with the sons of the vulgar. Whoever was not taught good manners in his boyhood, fortune will forsake him when he becomes a man. Thou may’st bend the green bough as thou likest; but let it once get dry, and it will require heat to straighten it:— ‘Verily thou may’st bend the tender branch, but it were labor lost to attempt making straight a crooked billet.’”

The king greatly approved of this ingenious detail, and the wholesome course of discipline of the learned doctor; and, bestowing upon him a dress and largess, raised him one step in his rank as a nobleman!

IV

In the west of Africa I saw a schoolmaster of a sour aspect and bitter speech, crabbed, misanthropic, beggarly, and intemperate, insomuch that the sight of him would derange the ecstasies of the orthodox; and his manner of reading the Koran cast a gloom over the minds of the pious. A number of handsome boys and lovely virgins were subject to his despotic sway, who had neither the permission of a smile nor the option of a word, for this moment he would smite the silver cheek of one of them with his hand, and the next put the crystalline legs of another in the stocks. In short their parents, I heard, were made aware of a part of his disloyal violence, and beat and drove him from his charge. And they made over his school to a peaceable creature, so pious, meek, simple, and good-natured that he never spoke till forced to do so, nor would he utter a word that could offend anybody. The children forgot that awe in which they had held their first master, and remarking the angelic disposition of their second master, they became one after another as wicked as devils; and relying on his clemency, they would so neglect their studies as to pass most part of their time at play, and break the tablets of their unfinished tasks over each other’s heads:— “When the schoolmaster relaxes in his discipline, the children will stop to play at marbles in the market-place.”

A fortnight after I passed by the gate of that mosque and saw the first schoolmaster, with whom they had been obliged to make friends, and to restore him to his place. I was in truth offended, and calling on God to witness, asked, saying: “Why have they again made a devil the preceptor of angels?” A facetious old gentleman, who had seen much of life, listened to me and replied: “Have you not heard what they have said: — A king sent his son to school, and hung a tablet of silver round his neck. On the face of that tablet he had written in golden letters: ‘The severity of the master is more useful than the indulgence of the father.’”

* * * * *

VI

A king gave his son into the charge of a preceptor, and said: “This is your child, educate him as you would one of your own.” For some years he labored in teaching him, but to no good purpose; whilst the sons of the preceptor excelled in eloquence and knowledge. The king blamed the learned man, and remonstrated with him, saying: “You have violated your trust, and infringed the terms of your engagement.” He replied: “O king, the education is the same, but their capacities are different!” Though silver and gold are extracted from stones, yet it is not in every stone that gold and silver are found. The Sohail, or star Canopus, is shedding his rays all over the globe. In one place he produces common leather, in another, or in Yamin, that called Adim, or perfumed.

VII

I heard a certain learned senior observing to a disciple:— “If the sons of Adam were as solicitous after Providence, or God, as they are after their means of sustenance, their places in Paradise would surpass those of the angels.” God did not overlook thee in that state when thou wert a senseless embryo in thy mother’s womb. He bestowed upon thee a soul, reason, temper, intellect, symmetry, speech, judgment, understanding, and reflection. He accommodated thy hands with ten fingers, and suspended two arms from thy shoulders. Canst thou now suppose, O good-for-nothing wretch, that he will forget to provide thy daily bread?

VIII

I observed an Arab who was informing his son:— “O my child, God will ask thee on the day of judgment: What hast thou done in this life? but he will not inquire of thee: Whence didst thou derive thy origin?” That is, they (or God) will ask, saying: “What are your works?” But he will not question you, saying: “Who is your father?” The covering of the Caabah at Mecca, which the pilgrims kiss from devotion, is not prized from its being the fabric of a silk-worm; for a while it associated with a venerable friend, and became, in consequence, venerable like him.

IX

They have related in the books of philosophers that scorpions are not brought forth according to the common course of nature, as other animals are, but that they eat their way through their mother’s wombs, tear open their bellies, and thus make themselves a passage into the world; and that the fragments of skin which we find in scorpions’ holes corroborate this fact. On one occasion I was stating this strange event to a good and great man, when he answered: “My heart is bearing testimony to the truth of this remark; nor can it be otherwise, for as they have thus behaved towards their parents in their youth, so they are approved and beloved in their riper years.” On his death-bed a father exhorted his son, saying: “O generous youth, keep in mind this maxim: ‘Whoever is ungrateful to his own kindred cannot hope that fortune shall befriend him.’”

X

They asked a scorpion: “Why do you not make your appearance during the winter?” It answered: “What is my character in the summer that I should come abroad also in the winter?”

* * * * *

XIII

One year a dissension arose among the foot-travellers on a pilgrimage to Mecca, and the author (Sa’di) was also a pedestrian among them. In truth, we fell head and ears together, and accusation and recrimination were bandied from all sides. I overheard a kajawah, or gentleman, riding on one side of a camel-litter, observing to his adil, or opposite companion: “How strange that the ivory piyadah, or pawns, on reaching the top of the shatranj, or chess-board, become fazzin, or queens; that is, they get rank, or become better than they were; and the piyadah, or pawns, of the pilgrimage — that is, our foot-pilgrims — have crossed the desert and become worse.” Say from me to that haji, or pilgrim, the pest of his fellow-pilgrims, that he lacerates the skin of mankind by his contention. Thou art not a real pilgrim, but that meek camel is one who is feeding on thorns and patient under its burden.

XIV

A Hindu, or Indian, was teaching the art of playing off fireworks. A philosopher observed to him: “This is an unfit sport for you, whose dwelling is made of straw.” Utter not a word till thou knowest that it is the mirror of what is correct; and do not put a question where thou knowest that the answer must be unfavorable.

XV

A fellow had a complaint in his eyes, and went to a horse-doctor, saying: “Prescribe something for me.” The doctor of horses applied to his eyes what he was in the habit of applying to the eyes of quadrupeds, and the man got blind. They carried their complaint before the hakim, or judge. He decreed: “This man has no redress, for had he not been an ass he would not have applied to a horse or ass doctor!” The moral of this apologue is, that whoever doth employ an inexperienced person on an affair of importance, besides being brought to shame, he will incur from the wise the imputation of a weak mind. A prudent man, with an enlightened understanding, entrusts not affairs of consequence to one of mean capacity. The plaiter of mats, notwithstanding he be a weaver, they would not employ in a silk manufactory.

XVI

A certain great Imaam had a worthy son, and he died. They asked him, saying: “What shall we inscribe upon the urn at his tomb.” He replied: “Verses of the holy Koran are of such superior reverence and dignity that they should not be written in places where time might efface, mankind tread upon, or dogs defile them; yet, if an epitaph be necessary, let these two couplets suffice: — I said: ‘Alas! how grateful it was proving to my heart, so long as the verdure of thy existence might flourish in the garden.’ He replied: ‘O my friend, have patience till the return of the spring, and thou may’st again see roses blossoming on my bosom, or shooting from my dust.’”

XVII

A holy man was passing by a wealthy personage’s mansion, and saw him with a slave tied up by the hands and feet, and giving him chastisement. He said: “O my son! God Almighty has made a creature like yourself subject to your command, and has given you a superiority over him. Render thanksgiving to the Most High Judge, and deal not with him so savagely; lest hereafter, on the day of judgment, he may prove the more worthy of the two, and you be put to shame: — Be not so enraged with thy bondsman; torture not his body, nor harrow up his heart. Thou mightest buy him for ten dinars, but hadst not after all the power of creating him: — To what length will this authority, pride, and insolence hurry thee; there is a Master mightier than thou art. Yes, thou art a lord of slaves and vassals, but do not forget thine own Lord Paramount — namely, God!” There is a tradition of the prophet Mohammed, on whom be blessing, announcing: — On the day of resurrection, that will be the most mortifying event when the good slave will be taken up to heaven, and the wicked master sent down to hell:— “Upon the bondsman, who is subservient to thy command, wreak not thy rage and boundless displeasure. For it must be disgraceful on the day of reckoning to find the slave at liberty and the master in bondage.”

XVIII

One year I was on a journey with some Syrians from Balkh, and the road was infested with robbers. One of our escort was a youth expert at wielding his shield and brandishing his spear, mighty as an elephant, and cased in armor, so strong that ten of the most powerful of us could not string his bow, or the ablest wrestler on the face of the earth throw him on his back. Yet, as you must know, he had been brought up in luxury and reared in a shade, was inexperienced of the world, and had never travelled. The thunder of the great war-drum had never rattled in his ears, nor had the lightning of the trooper’s scimitar ever flashed across his eyes: — He had never fallen a captive into the hands of an enemy, nor been overwhelmed amidst a shower of their arrows.

It happened that this young man and I kept running on together; and any venerable ruin that might come in our way he would overthrow with the strength of his shoulder; and any huge tree that we might see he would wrench from its root with his lion-seizing wrist, and boastfully cry:— “Where is the elephant, that he may behold the shoulder and arm of warriors? Where the lion, that he may feel the wrist and grip of heroes?”

Such was our situation when two Hindus darted from behind a rock and prepared to cut us off, one of them holding a bludgeon in his hand, and the other having a mallet under his arm. I called to the young man, “Why do you stop? — Display whatever strength and courage thou hast, for the foe came on his own feet up to his grave”: — I perceived that the youth’s bow and arrows had dropped from his hands, and that a tremor had fallen upon his limbs: — It is not he that can split a hair with a coat-of-mail cleaving arrow that is able to withstand an assault from the formidable: — No alternative was left us but that of surrendering our arms, accoutrements, and clothes, and escaping with our lives. On an affair of importance employ a man experienced in business who can bring the fierce lion within the noose of his halter; though the youth be strong of arm and has the body of an elephant, in his encounter with a foe every limb will quake with fear. A man of experience is best qualified to explore a field of battle, as one of the learned is to expound a point of law.

XIX

I saw a rich man’s son seated by his father’s tomb, and in a disputation with that of a dervish holding forth and saying: “My father’s mausoleum is built of granite, the epitaph inscribed with letters of gold, the pavement and lining marble, and tessellated with slabs of turquoise; and what is there left of your father’s tomb but two or three bricks cemented together with a few handfuls of mortar?” The poor man’s son heard this, and answered: “I pray you peace! for before your father can stir himself under this heavy load of stone mine shall have risen up to heaven!” And there is a tradition of the prophet, that death to the poor is a state of rest. That ass proceeds all the lighter on his journey on whom they load the lightest burden: — the poor dervish, who suffers under a load of indigence, will in like sort enter the gates of death with an easy burden; but with him who luxuriates in peace, plenty, and affluence, it must be a real hardship to die amidst all these comforts. At all events consider the prisoner, who is released from his thraldom, as better off than the prince who is just fallen a captive.

* * * * *

XXI

I saw a certain person in the garb of dervishes, but not with their meekness, seated in a company, and full of his abuse. Having opened the volume of reproach, and begun to calumniate the rich, his discourse had reached this place, stating: “The hand of the poor man’s ability is tied up, and the foot of the rich man’s inclination crippled: — Men of liberality have no command of money, nor have the opulent and worldly-minded a spirit of liberality.”

Owing, as I am, my support to the bounty of the great, I considered this animadversion as unmerited, and replied: “O my friend! the rich are the treasury of the indigent, the granary of the hermit, the fane of the pilgrim, resting-place of the traveller, and the carriers of heavy burdens for the relief of their fellow-creatures. They put forth their hand to eat when their servants and dependants are ready to partake with them; and the bounteous fragments of their tables they distribute among widows and the aged, their neighbors and kindred: — The rich have their consecrated foundations, charitable endowments and rites of hospitality; their alms, oblations, manumissions, peace-offerings, and sacrifices. How shalt thou rise to this pomp of fortune who canst perform only these two genuflexions, and them after manifold difficulties? — Whether it respect their moral dignity or religious duty, the rich are at ease within themselves; for their property is sanctified by giving tithes, and their apparel hallowed by cleanliness, their reputations unblemished, and minds content. The intelligent are aware that the zeal of devotion is warmed by good fare, and the sincerity of piety rendered more serene in a nicety of vesture; for it is evident what ardor there can be in a hungry stomach; what generosity in squalid penury; what ability of travelling with a bare foot; and what alacrity at bestowing from an empty hand: — Uneasy must be the night-slumbers of him whose provision for to-morrow is not forthcoming: the ant is laying by a store in summer that she may enjoy an abundance in winter. It is clear that indigence and tranquillity can never go together, nor have fruition and want the same aspect: the one had composed himself for prayer, and the other sat anxious, and thinking on his supper; how then could this ever come in competition with that? The lord of plenty has his mind fixed on God; when a man’s fortune is bankrupt, so is his heart: — accordingly, the devotion of the rich is more acceptable at the temple of God, because their thoughts are present and collected, and their minds not absent and distracted; for they have laid up the conveniences of good living, and digested at their leisure their scriptural quotations (for prayer). The Arabs say: ‘God preserve us from overwhelming poverty; and from the company of him whom he loves not, namely, the infidel’: — And there is a tradition of the prophet — that ‘poverty has a gloomy aspect in this world and in the next!’”

My antagonist said: “Have you not heard what the blessed prophet has declared?— ‘poverty is my glory!’” I replied: “Be silent, for the allusion of the Lord of both worlds applies to such as are heroes in the field of resignation, and the devoted victims of their fate, and not to those who put on the garb of piety, that they may entitle themselves to the bread of charity. O noisy drum! thou art nothing but an empty sound; unprovided with the means, what canst thou effect on the last day of account? If thou art a man of spirit, turn thy face away from begging charity from thy fellow-creature; and keep not repeating thy rosary of a thousand beads. Being without divine knowledge, a dervish, or poor man, rests not till his poverty settles into infidelity; for he that is poor is well-nigh being an infidel: — nor is it practicable, unless through the agency of wealth, to clothe the naked, and to liberate the prisoner from jail: how then can such mendicants as we are aspire to their dignity; or what comparison is there between the arm of the lofty and the hand of the abject? Do you not perceive that the glorious and great God announces, in the holy book of the Koran, xxviii, the enjoyments of the blessed in Paradise? — that ‘to this community, namely, the orthodox Mussulmans, a provision is allotted’; — in order that you may understand that such as are solely occupied in looking after their daily subsistence are excluded from this portion of the blessed; and that the property of present enjoyment is sanctioned under the seal of Providence: — to the thirsty it will seem in their dreams as if the face of the earth were wholly a fountain. You may everywhere observe that, instigated by his appetites, a person who has suffered hardship and tasted bitterness will engage in dangerous enterprises; and, indifferent to the consequences, and unawed by future punishments, he will not discriminate between what is lawful and what is forbid: — Should a clod of earth be thrown at the head of a dog, he would jump up in joy, and take it for a bone; or were two people carrying a corpse on a bier, a greedy man would fancy it a tray of victuals. Whereas the worldly opulent are regarded with the benevolent eye of Providence, and in their enjoyments of what is lawful are preserved from things illegal. Having thus detailed my arguments and adduced my proofs, I rely on your justice for an equitable decree; whether you ever saw a felon with his arms pinioned; a bankrupt immured in a jail; the veil of innocency rent, or the arm mutilated for theft, unless in consequence of poverty: for lion-like heroes, instigated by want, have been caught undermining walls, and breaking into houses, and have got themselves suspended by the heels. It is, moreover, possible that a poor man, urged to it by an inordinate appetite, may feel desirous of gratifying his lust; and he may fall the victim of some accursed sin. And of the manifold means of mental tranquillity and corporeal enjoyment which are the special lots of the opulent, one is that every night they can command a fresh mistress, and every day possess a new charmer, such as must excite the envy of the glorious dawn, and stick the foot of the stately cypress in the mire of shame:— ‘She had dipped her hands in the blood of her lovers, and tinged the tips of her fingers with jujubes’: — so that it were impossible, with such lovely objects before their eyes, for them to desire what is forbidden or to wish to commit sin: — Why should such a heart as the houris, or nymphs of Paradise, have captivated and plundered, show any way partial to the idols of Yaghma (a city in Turkestan famous for its beauties)? — He who has in both his hands such dates as he can relish, will not think of throwing stones at the bunches of dates on their trees. In common, such as are in indigent circumstances will contaminate the skirt of innocency with sin; and such as are suffering from hunger will steal bread: — When a ravenous dog has found a piece of meat, he asks not, saying: Is this the flesh of the prophet Salah’s camel or Antichrist’s ass? Many are the chaste who, because of their poverty, have fallen into the sink of wickedness, and given their fair reputations to the blast of infamy: — The virtue of temperance remains not with a state of being famished; and bankrupt circumstances will snatch the rein from the hand of abstemiousness.”

The moment I had finished this speech, the dervish, my antagonist, let the rein of forbearance drop from the hand of moderation; unsheathed the sabre of his tongue; set the steed of eloquence at full speed over the plain of arrogance; and, galloping up to me, said: “You have so exaggerated in their praise, and amplified with such extravagance, that we might fancy them an antidote to the poison of poverty and a key to the store-house of Providence; yet they are a proud, self-conceited, fastidious, and overbearing set, insatiate after wealth and property, and ambitious of rank and dignity; who exchange not a word but to express insolence, or deign a look but to show contempt. Men of science they call beggars, and the indigent they reproach for their wretched raggedness. Proud of the property they possess, and vain of the rank they claim, they take the upper hand of all, and deem themselves everybody’s superior. Nor do they ever condescend to return any person’s salutation, unmindful of the maxim of the wise: That whoever is inferior to others in humility, and is their superior in opulence, though in appearance he be rich, yet in reality he is a beggar: — If a worthless fellow, because of his wealth, treats a learned man with insolence, reckon him an ass, although he be the ambergris ox.”

I replied: “Do not calumniate the rich, for they are the lords of munificence.” He said: “You mistake them, for they are the slaves of dinars and dirams, or their gold and silver coins. For example, what profits it though they be the clouds of the spring, if they may not send us rain; or the fountain of the sun, and shine upon no one; or though they be mounted on the steed of capability, and advance not towards anybody? They will not move a step for the sake of God, nor bestow their charity without laying you under obligation and thanks. They hoard their money with solicitude, watch it while they live with sordid meanness, and leave it behind them with deadening regret, verifying the saying of the wise: ‘That the money of the miser is coming out of the earth when he is himself going into it:’ — One man hoards a treasure with pain and tribulation, another comes and spends it without tribulation or pain.”

I replied: “You could have ascertained the parsimony of the wealthy only through the medium of your own beggary; otherwise to him who lays covetousness aside the generous man and miser seem all one. The touchstone can prove which is pure gold, and the beggar can say which is the niggard.” He said: “I speak of them from experience; for they station dependants by their doors, and plant surly porters at their gates, to deny admittance to the worthy, and to lay violent hands upon the collars of the elect, and say: ‘There is nobody at home’; and verily they tell what is true: — When the master has not reason or judgment, understanding or discernment, the porter reported right of him, saying: ‘There is nobody in the house.’”

I replied: “They are excusable, inasmuch as they are worried out of their lives by importunate memorialists, and jaded to their hearts by indigent solicitors; and it might be reasonably doubted whether it would satisfy the eye of the covetous if the sands of the desert could be turned into pearls: — The eye of the greedy is not to be filled with worldly riches, any more than a well can be replenished from the dew of night. And had Hatim Tayi, who dwelt in the desert, come to live in a city, he would have been overwhelmed with the importunities of mendicants, and they would have torn the clothes from his back: — Look not towards me, lest thou should draw the eyes of others, for at the mendicant’s hand no good can be expected.”

He said: “I pity their condition.” I replied: “Not so; but you envy them their property.” We were thus warm in argument, and both of us close engaged. Whatever chess pawn he might advance I would set one in opposition to it; and whenever he put my king in check, I would relieve him with my queen; till he had exhausted all the coin in the purse of his resolution, and expended all the arrows of the quiver of his argument. “Take heed and retreat not from the orator’s attack, for nothing is left him but metaphor and hyperbole. Wield thy polemics and law citations, for the wordy rhetorician made a show of arms over his gate, but has not a soldier within his fort”: — At length, having no syllogism left, I made him crouch in mental submission. He stretched forth the arm of violence, and began with vain abuse. As is the case with the ignorant, when beaten by their antagonist in fair argument, they shake the chain of rancor; like Azor, the idol-maker, when he could no longer contend with his son Abraham in words he fell upon him with blows, as God has said in the Koran— “If thou wilt not yield this point, I will overwhelm thee with stones:” — He gave me abuse, and I retorted upon him with asperity; he tore my collar, and I plucked his beard: — He had fallen upon me and I upon him, and a crowd had gathered round us enjoying the sport. A whole world gnawed the finger of astonishment when it heard and understood what had taken place between us.

In short, we referred our dispute to the cazi, and agreed to abide by his equitable decree: That the judge of the Mussulmans, or faithful, might bring about a peace, and discriminate for us between the poor and rich. After having noted our physiognomies, and listened to our statements, the cazi rested his chin on the breast of deliberation; and, after due consideration, raised it, and said: “Be it known to you, who were lavish in your praise of the rich, and spoke disparagingly of the poor, that there is no rose without its thorn; intoxication from wine is followed by a qualm; hidden treasure has its guardian dragon; where the imperial pearl is found, there swims the man-devouring shark; the honey of worldly enjoyment has the sting of death in its rear; and between us and the felicity of Paradise stands a frightful demon, namely, Satan. So long as the charmer slew not her admirer, what could the rival’s malice avail him? The rose and thorn, the treasure and dragon, joy and sorrow, all mingle into one. — Do you not observe that in the garden there are the sweet-scented willows and the withered trunks; so among the classes of the rich some are grateful and some thankless; and among the orders of the poor some are resigned and some impatient: — Were every drop of dew to turn into a pearl, in the market pearls would be as common as shells. Near by the throne of a great and glorious Judge are the rich meek in spirit, and the poor rich in resolution. And the chief of the opulent is he who sympathizes with the sorrows of the indigent; and the most virtuous of the indigent is he who covets not the society of the opulent: — God is all-sufficient for him who trusts in God.”

Then the cazi turned the face of animadversion from me towards the dervish, and said: “O you who have charged the rich with being active in sin, and intoxicated with things forbidden, verily there is such a tribe as you have described them, illiberal in their bigotry, and stingy of God’s bounty; who are collecting and hoarding money, but will neither use nor bestow it. If, for example, there was a drought, or if the whole earth was deluged with a flood, confident of their own abundance, they would not inquire after the poor man’s distress, and, fearless of the divine wrath, exclaim: — If, in his want of everything, another person be annihilated, I have plenty; and what does a goose care for a deluge? Such as are lolling in their litters, and indulging in the easy pace of a female camel, feel not for the foot-traveller perishing amidst overwhelming sands: — The mean-spirited, when they could escape with their own rugs, would cry: ‘What care we should the whole world die.’

“Such as you have stated them, there is a tribe of rich men; but there is another class, who, having spread the table of abundance, and made a public declaration of their munificence, and smoothed the brow of their humility, are solicitous of a reputation and forgiveness, and desirous of enjoying this world and the next; like unto the servants of his Majesty the sovereign of the universe, just, confirmed, victorious, lord paramount and conqueror of nations, defender of the stronghold of Islamism, successor of Solomon, most equitable of contemporary kings. Mozuffar-ud-din Atabak-Abubakr-Saad, may God give him a long life, and grant victory to his standards! — A father could never show such benevolence to his son as thy liberal hand has bestowed upon the race of Adam. The Deity was desirous of conferring a kindness upon man, and in his special mercy made thee sovereign of the world.”

Now that the cazi had carried his harangue to this extreme, and had galloped the steed of metaphor beyond our expectation, we of necessity acquiesced in the absolute decree of being satisfied, and apologized for what had passed between us; and after altercation we returned into the path of reconciliation, laid the heads of reparation at each other’s feet, mutually kissed and embraced, and, letting mischief fall asleep, and war lull itself into peace, concluded the whole in these two verses:— “O poor man! complain not of the revolutions of fortune, for gloomy might be thy lot wert thou to die in such sentiments. And now, O rich man! that thy hand and heart administer to thy pleasures, spend and give away, that thou may’st enjoy this world and the next.”

CHAPTER VIII. Of the Duties of Society

I

Riches are intended for the comfort of life, and not life for the purpose of hoarding riches. I asked a wise man, saying: “Who is the fortunate man, and who is the unfortunate?” He said: “That man was fortunate who spent and gave away, and that man unfortunate who died and left behind: — Pray not for that good-for-nothing man who did nothing, for he passed his life in hoarding riches, and did not spend them.”

II

The prophet Moses, on whom be peace, admonished Carum, saying: “Be bounteous in like manner as God has been bounteous to thee”: — but he listened not, and you have heard the end of him. Whoever did not an act of charity with his silver and gold, sacrificed his future prospects on his hoard of gold and silver. If desirous that thou shouldst benefit by the wealth of this world, be generous with thy fellow-creature, as God has been generous with thee.

The Arabs say:— “Show thy generosity, but make it not obligatory, that the benefit of it may redound to thee”: — that is, bestow and make presents, but do not exact an obligation that the profit of that act may be returned to you. Wherever the tree of generosity strikes root it sends forth its boughs, and they shoot above the skies. If thou cherishest a hope of enjoying its fruit, by gratitude I entreat of thee not to lay a saw upon its trunk. Render thanks to God, that thou wert found worthy of his divine grace, that he has not excluded thee from the riches of his bounty. Esteem it no obligation that thou art serving the king, but show thy gratitude to him, namely God, who has placed thee in this service.

III

Two persons labored to a vain, and studied to an unprofitable end: he who hoarded wealth and did not spend it, and he who acquired science and did not practise it: — However much thou art read in theory, if thou hast no practice thou art ignorant. He is neither a sage philosopher nor an acute divine, but a beast of burden with a load of books. How can that brainless head know or comprehend whether he carries on his back a library or bundle of fagots?

IV

Learning is intended to fortify religious practice, and not to gratify worldly traffic: — Whoever prostituted his temperance, piety, and science, gathered his harvest into a heap and set fire to it.

V

An intemperate man of learning is like a blind link-boy: — He shows the road to others, but sees it not himself: — whoever ventured his life on an unproductive hazard gained nothing by the risk, and lost his own stake.

VI

A kingdom is embellished by the wise, and religion rendered illustrious by the pious. Kings stand more in need of the company of the intelligent than the intelligent do of the society of kings: — If, O king! thou wilt listen to my advice, in all thy archives thou canst not find a wiser maxim than this: entrust thy concerns only to the learned, notwithstanding business is not a learned man’s concern.

VII

Three things have no durability without their concomitants: property without trade, knowledge without debate, or a sovereignty without government.

VIII

To compassionate the wicked is to tyrannize over the good; and to pardon the oppressor is to deal harshly with the oppressed: — When thou patronizest and succorest the base-born man, he looks to be made the partner of thy fortune.

IX

No reliance can be placed on the friendship of kings, nor vain hope put in the melodious voice of boys; for that passes away like a vision, and this vanishes like a dream: — Bestow not thy affections upon a mistress who has a thousand lovers; or, if thou bestowest them upon her, be prepared for a separation.

X

Reveal not every secret you have to a friend, for how can you tell but that friend may hereafter become an enemy? And bring not all the mischief you are able to do upon an enemy, for he may one day become your friend. And any private affair that you wish to keep secret, do not divulge to anybody; for, though such a person has your confidence, none can be so true to your secret as yourself: — Silence is safer than to communicate the thought of thy mind to anybody, and to warn him, saying: Do not divulge it, O silly man! confine the water at the dam-head, for once it has a vent thou canst not stop it. Thou shouldst not utter a word in secret which thou wouldst not have spoken in the face of the public.

XI

A reduced foe, who offers his submission and courts your amity, can only have in view to become a strong enemy, as they have said: “You cannot trust the sincerity of friends, then what are you to expect from the cajoling of foes?” Whoever despises a weak enemy resembles him who neglects a spark of fire: — To-day that thou canst quench it, put it out; for let fire rise into a flame, and it may consume a whole world. Now that thou canst transfix him with thy arrow, permit not thy antagonist to string his bow.

XIII

Whoever is making a league with their enemies has it in his mind to do his friends an ill turn:— “O wise man! wash thy hands of that friend who is in confederacy with thy foes.”

XIV

When irresolute in the despatch of business, incline to that side which is the least offensive: — Answer not with harshness a mild-spoken man, nor force him into war who knocks at the gate of peace.

XV

So long as money can answer, it were wrong in any business to put the life in danger: — as the Arabs say:— “let the sword decide after stratagem has failed”: — When the hand is balked in every crafty endeavor, it is lawful to lay it upon the hilt of the sabre.

XVI

Show no mercy to a subdued foe, for if he recover himself he will show you no mercy: — When thou seest thy antagonist in a reduced state, curl not thy whiskers at him in contempt, for in every bone there is marrow, and within every jacket there is a man.

XVII

Whoever puts a wicked man to death delivers mankind from his mischief, and the wretch himself from God’s vengeance: — Beneficence is praiseworthy; yet thou shouldst not administer a balsam to the wound of the wicked. Knew he not who took compassion on a snake, that it is the pest of the sons of Adam.

XVIII

It is wrong to follow the advice of an adversary; nevertheless it is right to hear it, that you may do the contrary; and this is the essence of good policy: — Sedulously shun whatever thy foe may recommend, otherwise thou may’st wring the hands of repentance on thy knees. Should he show thee to the right a path straight as an arrow, turn aside from that, and take the path to the left.

* * * * *

XX

Two orders of mankind are the enemies of church and state: the king without clemency, and the holy man without learning: — Let not that prince have rule over the state who is not himself obedient to the will of God.

XXI

It behooves a king so to regulate his anger towards his enemies as not to alarm the confidence of his friends; for the fire of passion falls first on the angry man; afterwards its sparks will dart forth towards the foe, and him they may reach, or they may not. It ill becomes the children of Adam, formed of dust, to harbor in their head such pride, arrogance, and passion. I cannot fancy all this thy warmth and obstinacy to be created from earth, but from fire. I went to a holy man in the land of Bailcan, and said: “Cleanse me of ignorance by thy instruction?” He replied: “O fakir, or theologician! go and bear things patiently like the earth; or whatever thou hast read let it all be buried under the earth.”

XXII

An evil-disposed man is a captive in the hands of an enemy (namely, himself); for wherever he may go he cannot escape from the grasp of that enemy’s vengeance: — Let a wicked man ascend up to heaven, that he may escape from the grasp of calamity; even thither would the hand of his own evil heart follow him with misfortune.

XXIII

When you see discord raging among the troops of your enemy, be on your side quiet; but if you see them united, think of your own dispersed state: — When thou beholdest war among thy foes, go and enjoy peace with thy friends; but if thou findest them of one soul and mind, string thy bow, and range stones around thy battlements.

* * * * *

XXVI

Keep to yourself any intelligence that may prove unpleasant, till some person else has disclosed it: — Bring, O nightingale! the glad tidings of the spring, and leave to the owl to be the harbinger of evil.

* * * * *

XXVIII

Whoever is counselling a self-sufficient man stands himself in need of a counsellor.

XXIX

Swallow not the wheedling of a rival, nor pay for the sycophancy of a parasite; for that has laid the snare of treachery, and this whetted the palate of gluttony. The fool is puffed up with his own praise, like a dead body, which on being stretched upon a bier shows a momentary corpulency: — Take heed and listen not to the sycophant’s blandishments, who expects in return some small compensation; for shouldst thou any day disappoint his object he would in like style sum up two hundred of thy defects.

XXX

Till some person may show its defects, the speech of the orator will fail of correctness: — Be not vain of the eloquence of thy discourse because it has the fool’s good opinion, and thine own approbation.

XXXI

Every person thinks his own intellect perfect, and his own child handsome: — A Mussulman and a Jew were warm in argument to such a degree that I smiled at their subject. The Mussulman said in wrath: “If this deed of conveyance be not authentic may I, O God, die a Jew!” The Jew replied: “On the Pentateuch I swear, if what I say be false, I am a Mussulman like you!” Were intellect to be annihilated from the face of the earth, nobody could be brought to say: “I am ignorant.”

XXXII

Ten people will partake of the same joint of meat, and two dogs will snarl over a whole carcase. The greedy man is incontinent with a whole world set before him; the temperate man is content with his crust of bread: — A loaf of brown bread may fill an empty stomach, but the produce of the whole globe cannot satisfy a greedy eye: — My father, when the sun of his life was going down, gave me this sage advice, and it set for good, saying: “Lust is a fire; refrain from indulging it, and do not involve thyself in the flames of hell. Since thou hast not the strength of burning in those flames (as a punishment in the next world), pour in this world the water of continence upon this fire — namely, lust.”

XXXIII

Whoever does not do good, when he has the means of doing it, will suffer hardship when he has not the means: — None is more unlucky than the misanthrope, for on the day of adversity he has not a single friend.

XXXIV

Life stands on the verge of a single breath; and this world is an existence between two nonentities. Such as truck their deen, or religious practice, for worldly pelf are asses. They sold Joseph, and what got they by their bargain?— “Did I not covenant with you, O ye sons of Adam, that you should not serve Satan; for verily he is your avowed enemy”: — By the advice of a foe you broke your faith with a friend; behold from whom you separated, and with whom you united yourselves.

* * * * *

XXXVI

Whatever is produced in haste goes hastily to waste: — I have heard that, after a process of forty years, they convert the clay of the East into a China porcelain cup. At Bagdad they can make an hundred cups in a day, and thou may’st of course conceive their respective value. A chicken walks forth from its shell, and goes in quest of its food; the young of man possesses not that instinct of prudence and discrimination. That which was at once something comes to nothing; and this surpasses all creatures in dignity and wisdom. A piece of crystal or glass is found everywhere, and held of no value; a ruby is obtained with difficulty, and therefore inestimable.

XXXVII

Patience accomplishes its object, while hurry speeds to its ruin: — With my own eyes I saw in the desert that the deliberate man outstripped him that had hurried on. The wing-footed steed is broken down in his speed, whilst the camel-driver jogs on with his beast to the end of his journey.

XXXVIII

Nothing is so good for an ignorant man as silence, and if he knew this he would no longer be ignorant: — When unadorned with the grace of eloquence it is wise to keep watch over the tongue in the mouth. The tongue, by abuse, renders a man contemptible; levity in a nut is a sign of its being empty. A fool was undertaking the instruction of an ass, and had devoted his whole time to this occupation. A wise man said to him: “What art thou endeavoring to do? In this vain attempt dread the reproof of the censorious! A brute can never learn speech from thee; do thou learn silence from him.” That man who reflects not before he speaks will only make all the more improper answer. Either like a man arrange thy speech with judgment, or like a brute sit silent.

XXXIX

Whoever shall argue with one more learned than himself that others may take him for a wise man, only confirms them in his being a fool:— “When a person superior to what thou art engages thee in conversation do not contradict him, though thou may’st know better.”

XL

He can see no good who will associate with the wicked: — Were an angel from heaven to associate with a demon, he would learn his brutality, perfidy, and hypocrisy. Virtue thou never canst learn of the vicious; it is not the wolf’s occupation to mend skins, but to tear them.

XLI

Expose not the secret failings of mankind, otherwise you must verily bring scandal upon them and distrust upon yourself.

XLII

Whoever acquires knowledge and does not practise it resembles him who ploughs his land and leaves it unsown.

* * * * *

XLVI

It is not every man that has a handsome physical exterior that has a good moral character; for the faculty of business or virtue resides in the heart and not in the skin. Thou canst in one day ascertain the intellectual faculties of a man, and what proficiency he has made in his degrees of knowledge; but be not secure of his mind, nor foolishly sure, for it may take years to detect the innate baseness of the heart.

XLVII

Whoever contends with the great sheds his own blood: — Thou contemplatest thyself as a mighty great man; and they have truly remarked that the squinter sees double. Thou who canst in play butt with a ram must soon find thyself with a broken pate.

XLVIII

To grapple with a lion, or to box against a naked scimitar, are not the acts of the prudent: — Brave not the furious with war and opposition before their arms of strength cross thy hands of submission.

XLIX

A weak man who tries his courage against the strong leagues with the foe to his own destruction: — Nurtured in a shade, what strength can he have that he should engage with the warlike in battle; impotent of arm, he was falling the victim of folly when he set his wrist in opposition to a wrist of iron.

L

Whoever will not listen to admonition harbors the fancy of hearing reprehension: — When advice gains not an admission into the ear, if I give thee reproof, hear it in silence.

LI

The idle cannot endure the industrious any more than the curs of the market-place, who, on meeting dogs employed for sporting, will snarl at and prevent them passing.

LII

A mean wretch that cannot vie with another in virtue will assail him with malignity: — The narrow-minded envier will somehow manage to revile thee, who in thy presence might have the tongue of his utterance struck dumb.

* * * * *

LV

To hold counsel with women is bad, and to deal generously with prodigals a fault: — Showing mercy upon the sharp-fanged pard must prove an injustice to the harmless sheep.

LVI

Whoever has his foe at his mercy, and does not kill him, is his own enemy: — With a stone in his hand, and the snake’s head convenient, a wise man hesitates not in crushing it.

Certain people have seen this maxim in an opposite point of view, saying: “It were wiser to delay the execution of captives, inasmuch as the option is left so that you can slay, or you can release them; but if you shall have heedlessly put them to death, the policy is defunct, for the opportunity of repairing it is lost”: — There is no great difficulty to separate the soul from the body, but it is not so easy to restore life to the dead: prudence dictates patience in giving the arrow flight, for let it quit the bow and it never can be recalled.

LVII

A learned man who has got into an argument with the ignorant can have no hopes of supporting his own dignity; and if an ignoramus by his loquacity gets the upper hand it should not surprise us, for he is a stone and can bruise a gem: — No wonder if his spirit flag; the nightingale is cooped up in the same cage with the crow: — If the man of sense is coarsely treated by the vulgar, let it not excite our wrath and indignation; if a piece of worthless stone can bruise a cup of gold, its worth is not increased, nor that of the gold diminished.

* * * * *

LX

Genius without education is the subject of our regret, and education without genius is labor lost. Although embers have a lofty origin (fire being of a noble nature), yet, as having no intrinsic worth, they fall upon a level with common dust; on the other hand, sugar does not derive its value from the cane, but from its own innate quality: — Inasmuch as the disposition of Canaan was bad, his descent from the prophet Noah stood him in no stead. Pride thyself on what virtue thou hast, and not on thy parentage; the rose springs from a thorn-bush, and Abraham from Azor (neither his father’s name, or fire).

LXI

That is musk which discloses itself by its smell, and not what the perfumers impose upon us: — If a man be expert in any art he needs not tell it, for his own skill will show it.

LXII

A wise man is, like a vase in a druggist’s shop, silent, but full of virtues; and the ignorant man resembles the drum of the warrior, being full of noise, and an empty babbler: — The sincerely devout have remarked that a learned man beset by the illiterate is like one of the lovely in a circle of the blind, or the holy Koran in the dwelling of the infidel.

LXIII

A friend whom they take an age to conciliate, it were wrong all at once to alienate: — In a series of years a stone changes into a ruby; take heed, and destroy it not at once by dashing it against another stone.

LXIV

Reason is in like manner enthralled by passion, as an uxorious man is in the hands of an artful woman. Thou may’st shut the door of joy upon that dwelling where thou hearest resounding the scolding voice of a woman.

LXV

Intellect, without firmness, is craft and chicanery; and firmness, without intellect, perverseness and obstinacy: — First, prudence, good sense, and discrimination, and then dominion; for the dominion and good fortune of the ignorant are the armor of rebellion against God.

LXVI

The sinner who spends and gives away is better than the devotee who begs and lays by.

LXVII

Whoever foregoes carnal indulgence in order to get the good opinion of mankind, has forsaken a lawful passion and involved himself in what is forbidden: — What, wretched creature! can that hermit see in his own tarnished mirror, or heart, who retires to a cell, but not for the sake of God?

LXIX

A wise man should not through clemency overlook the insolence of the vulgar, otherwise both sustain a loss, for their respect for him is lessened and their own brutality confirmed: — When thou addressest the low with urbanity and kindness, it only adds to their pride and arrogance.

* * * * *

LXXIV

In a season of drought and scarcity ask not the distressed dervish, saying: “How are you?” Unless on the condition that you apply a balm to his wound, and supply him with the means of subsistence: — The ass which thou seest stuck in the slough with his rider, compassionate from thy heart, otherwise do not go near him. Now that thou went and asked him how he fell, like a sturdy fellow bind up thy loins, and take his ass by the tail.

LXXV

Two things are repugnant to reason: to expend more than what Providence has allotted for us, and to die before our ordained time: — Whether offered up in gratitude, or uttered in complaint, destiny cannot be altered by a thousand sighs and lamentations. The angel who presides over the store-house of the winds feels no compunction, though he extinguish the old woman’s lamp.

LXXVI

O you that are going in quest of food, sit down, that you may have to eat. And, O you that death is in quest of, go not on, for you cannot carry life along with you: — In search of thy daily bread, whether thou exertest thyself, or whether thou dost not, the God of Majesty and Glory will equally provide it. Wert thou to walk into the mouth of a tiger or lion, he could not devour thee, unless by the ordinance of thy destiny.

LXXVII

Whatever was not designed, the hand cannot reach; and whatever was ordained, it can attain in any situation: — Thou hast heard that Alexander got as far as chaos; but after all this toil he drank not the water of immortality.

LXXVIII

The fisherman, unless it be his lot, catches no fish in the Tigris; and the fish, unless it be its fate, does not die on the dry land: — The wretched miser is prowling all over the world, he in quest of pelf, and death in quest of him.

* * * * *

LXXXI

The envious man is niggard of the gifts of Providence, and an enemy of the innocent: — I met a dry-brained fellow of this sort, tricked forth in the robe of a dignified person. I said: “O sir! if thou art unfortunate in having this disposition, in what have the fortunate been to blame? — Take heed, and wish not misfortune to the misanthrope, for his own ill-conditioned lot is calamity sufficient. What need is there of showing ill-will to him, who has such an enemy close at his heels.”

LXXXII

A scholar without diligence is a lover without money; a traveller without knowledge is a bird without wings; a theorist without practice is a tree without fruit; and a devotee without learning is a house without an entrance.

LXXXIII

The object of sending the Koran down from heaven was that mankind might make it a manual of morals, and not that they should recite it by sections.

LXXXIV

The sincere publican has proceeded on foot; the slothful Pharisee is mounted and gone asleep.

LXXXV

The sinner who humbles himself in prayer is more acceptable than the devotee who is puffed up with pride: — The courteous and kind-hearted soldier of fortune is better than the misanthropic and learned divine.

LXXXVI

A learned man without works is a bee without honey: — Tell that harsh and ungenerous hornet: As thou yieldest no honey, wound not with thy sting.

* * * * *

LXXXIX

Though a dress presented by the sovereign be honorable, yet is our own tattered garment preferable; and though the viands at a great man’s table be delicate, yet is our own homely fare more sweet: — A salad and vinegar, the produce of our own industry, are sweeter than the lamb and bread sauce at the table of our village chief.

XC

It is contrary to sound judgment, and repugnant to the maxims of the prudent, to take a medicine on conjecture, or to follow a road but in the track of the caravan.

XCI

They asked Imaam Mursheed Mohammed-bin-Mohammed Ghazali, on whom be God’s mercy, how he had reached such a pitch of knowledge. He replied: “Whatever I was ignorant of myself, I felt no shame in asking of others”: — Thy prospect of health conforms with reason, when thy pulse is in charge of a skilled physician. Ask whatever thou knowest not; for the condescension of inquiring is a guide on thy road in the excellence of learning.

XCII

Anything you foresee that you may somehow come to know, be not hasty in questioning, lest your consequence and respectability may suffer: — When Lucman perceived that in the hands of David iron was miraculously moulded like wax, he asked him not, How didst thou do it? for he was aware that he should know it, through his own wisdom, without asking.

XCIII

It is one of the laws of good breeding that you should forego an engagement, or accommodate yourself to the master of the entertainment: — If thou knowest that the inclination is reciprocal, accommodate thy story to the temper of the hearer. Any discreet man that was in Mujnun’s company would entertain him only with encomiums on Laila.

* * * * *

XCVI

Whoever interrupts the conversation of others to make a display of his fund of knowledge makes notorious his own stock of ignorance. Philosophers have said: — A prudent man will not obtrude his answer till he has the question stated to him in form. Notwithstanding the proposition may have its right demonstration, the cavil of the fastidious will construe it wrong.

* * * * *

XCVIII

To tell a falsehood is like the cut of a sabre; for though the wound may heal, the scar of it will remain. In like manner as the brothers of the blessed Joseph, who, being notorious for a lie, had no credit afterwards when they spoke the truth: — God on high has said — Jacob is supposed to speak — (Koran xii. Sale ii. 35):— “Nay, but rather ye have contrived this to gratify your own passion; yet it behooves me to be patient”: — If a man who is in the habit of speaking truth lets a mistake escape him, we can overlook it; but if he be notorious for uttering falsehoods, and tell a truth, thou wilt call it a lie.

XCIX

The noblest of creatures is man, and the vilest of animals is no doubt a dog; yet, in the concurring opinion of the wise, a dog, thankful for his food, is more worthy than a human being who is void of gratitude: — A dog will never forget the crumb thou gavest him, though thou may’st afterwards throw a hundred stones at his head; but foster with thy kindness a low man for an age, and on the smallest provocation he will be up against thee in arms.

* * * * *

CI

It is written in the Injeel, or Gospel, stating: “O son of man, if I bestow riches upon you, you will be more intent upon your property than upon me, and if I leave you in poverty you will sit down dejected; how then can you feel a relish to praise, or a zeal to worship me?” — (Proverbs xxx. 7, 8, 9.) In the day of plenty thou art proud and negligent; in the time of want, full of sorrow and dejected; since in prosperity and adversity such is thy condition, it were difficult to state when thou wouldst voluntarily do thy duty.

CII

The pleasure of Him, or God, who has no equal hurls one man from a throne of sovereignty, and another he preserves in a fish’s belly: — Happy proceeds his time who is enraptured with thy praise, though, like Jonah, he even may pass it in the belly of a fish!

CIII

Were the Almighty to unsheath the sword of his wrath, prophets and patriarchs would draw in their heads; and were he to deign a glimpse of his benevolence, it would reach the wicked along with the good: — Were he on the day of judgment to call us to a strict account, even the prophets would have no room for excuse. Say, withdraw the veil from the face of thy compassion, that sinners may entertain hopes of pardon.

CIV

Whoever is not to be brought into the path of righteousness by the punishments of this life shall be overtaken with the punishments of that to come:— “Verily, I will cause them to taste the lesser punishment over and above the greater punishment”: — (Koran xxxii. Sale ii. 258.) Princes, in chastising, admonish, and then confine; when they admonish, and thou listenest not, they throw thee into prison.

CV

Men of auspicious fortune would rather take warning from the precepts and examples of their predecessors than that the rising generation should take warning from their acts: — The bird will not approach the grain that is spread about, where it sees another bird a captive in the snare. Take warning by the mischance of others, that others may not take warning by thine.

CVI

How can he help himself who was born deaf, if he cannot hear; and what can he do whose thread of fortune is dragging him on that he may not proceed: — The dark night of such as are beloved of God is serene and light as the bright day; but this good fortune results not from thine own strength of arm, till God in his mercy deign to bestow it. To whom shall I complain of thee? for there is no judge else, nor is any arm mightier than thine. Him whom thou directest none can lead astray, and him whom thou bewilderest none can direct upon his way.

CVII

The beggar whose end is good is better off than the king whose end is evil: — That sorrow which is the harbinger of joy is preferable to the joy which is followed by sorrow.

CVIII

The sky enriches the earth with rain, and the earth gives it dust in return. As the Arabs say: “What the vessels have, that they give.” — If my moral character strike thee as improper, do not renounce thine own good character.

CIX

The Most High God discerns and hides what is improper; my neighbor sees not, and is loud in his clamor: — God preserve us! if man knew what is hidden, none could be safe from the animadversion of his neighbor.

CX

Gold is got from the mine by digging into the earth; and from the grasp of the miser by taking away his life: — Misers spend not, but watch with solicitude: expectation, they say, is preferable to waste. Next day observe to the joy of their enemies, the gold remains, and they are dead without the enjoyment of that hope.

CXI

Such as deal hard with the weak will suffer from the extortion of the strong: — It is not every arm in which there is strength that can wrench the hand of a weak man. Bring not affliction upon the hearts of the feeble, lest thou may’st fall under the lash of the strong.

CXII

A wise man, where he meets opposition, labors to get through it, and where he finds quiet he drops his anchor, for there safety is on one side, and here enjoyment in the middle of it.

CXIII

The gamester wants three sixes, but he throws only three aces: — The pasture meadow is a thousand times richer than the common, but the horse has not his tether at command.

CXIV

The dervish in his prayer is saying: “O God, have compassion on the wicked, for to the good thou hast been abundantly kind, inasmuch as thou hast made them virtuous.”

CXV

Jemshid was the first person who put an edging round his garment, and a ring upon his finger. They asked him: “Why did you bestow all the decoration and ornament on the left hand, whilst the right is the superior?” He answered: “Sufficient for the right is the ornament of being right.” Feridún commanded the gilders of China that they would inscribe upon the front of his palace: “Strive, O wise man, to make the wicked good, for the good are of themselves great and fortunate.”

CXVI

They said to a great and holy man: “Notwithstanding the superiority that the right hand commands, who do they wear the ring on the left hand?” He replied: “Are you not aware that the best are most neglected! He who casts our horoscope, provision, and fortune, bestows upon us either good luck or wisdom.”

CXVII

It is proper for him to offer counsel to kings who dreads not to lose his head, nor looks for a reward: — Whether thou strewest heaps of gold at his feet, or brandishest an Indian sword over the Unitarian’s head, to hope or fear he is alike indifferent; and in this the divine unity alone he is resolved and firm.

CXVIII

It belongs to the king to displace extortioners, to the superintendent of the police to guard against murderers, and to the cazi to decide in quarrels and disputes. No two complainants ever referred to the cazi content to abide by justice: — When thou knowest that in right the claim is just, better pay with a grace than by distress and force. If a man is refractory in discharging his revenue, the collector must necessarily coerce him to pay it.

CXIX

Every man’s teeth are blunted by acids excepting the cazi’s, and they require sweets: — That cazi, or judge, that can accept of five cucumbers as a bribe, will confirm thee in a right to ten fields of melons.

* * * * *

CXXI

They asked a wise man, saying: “Of the many celebrated trees which the Most High God has created lofty and umbrageous, they call none azad, or free, excepting the cypress, which bears no fruit; what mystery is there in this?” He replied: “Each has its appropriate produce and appointed season, during the continuance of which it is fresh and blooming, and during their absence dry and withered; to neither of which states is the cypress exposed, being always flourishing; and of this nature are the azads, or religious independents. Fix not thy heart on what is transitory; for the Dijlah, or Tigris, will continue to flow through Bagdad after the race of Khalifs is extinct. If thy hand has plenty, be liberal as the date-tree; but if it affords nothing to give away, be an azad, or free man, like the cypress.”

CXXII

Two orders of mankind died, and carried with them regret: such as had and did not spend, and such as knew and did not practise: — None can see that wretched mortal a miser who will not endeavor to point out his faults; but were the generous man to have a hundred defects, his liberality would cover all his blemishes.

THE CONCLUSION OF THE BOOK

The book of the “Gulistan, or Flower-Garden,” was completed through the assistance and grace of God. Throughout the whole of this work I have not followed the custom of writers by inserting verses of poetry borrowed from former authors:— “It is more decorous to wear our own patched and old cloak than to ask in loan another man’s garment.”

Most of Sa’di’s sayings have a dash of hilarity and an odor of gayety about them, in consequence of which short-sighted critics extend the tongue of animadversion, saying: It is not the occupation of sensible men to solicit marrow from a shrivelled brain, or to digest the smoke of a profitless lamp. Nevertheless it cannot be concealed from the enlightened judgment of the holy and good, to whom these discourses are specially addressed, that the pearls of salutary admonition are threaded on the cord of an elegance of language, and the bitter potion of instruction sweetened with the honey of facetiousness, that the taste of the reader may not take disgust, and himself be debarred from the pleasure of approving of them: “On our part we offered some good advice, and spent an age in bringing it to perfection. If that should not meet the ear of anybody’s good-will, prophets deliver their messages, or warn mankind; and that is enough.”

“O thou who perusest this book, ask the mercy of God on the author of it: his forgiveness on the transcriber. Petition for whatever charitable gift thou mayst require for thyself, and implore pardon on the owner.” May I crave thy prayer on the English translator? The book is finished through the favor of the Lord God Paramount and the bestower of all good!

The Biography

Kashgar, an oasis city in Xinjiang, China. It is one of the westernmost cities of China, near the border with Afghanistan, Kyrgyzstan, Pakistan and Tajikistan — legend tells that Saadi visited this remote eastern city in 1213.

Introduction to Saadi by Arthur N. Wollaston

SHAIKH MUSLIH-UD-DIN SADI, the celebrated Persian poet, was born at Shiraz between the years 1175 and 1193 of the Christian era. His father, whose name was Abdullah, is generally supposed to have held some minor post about the Court of the Atabak ruler of Fars, by name Sa’d bin Zangi (A.D. 1195–1226), from whom was derived the poetical nom de plume of Sadi.

He commenced his studies in his native city, whence after a while he removed to the Muhammadan College of Baghdad, where it chanced that a rich native gentleman, being informed of the young student’s want of means, befriended the lad, who was fortunate enough to obtain assistance, also, from a Professor in the College. In due course Sadi gained a fellowship. He thereupon abandoned himself to a contemplative life and the study of divinity, while his pious and devotional aspirations found vent in a pilgrimage to Mecca — an act of holy zeal which he repeated no less than fourteen times, chiefly on foot. Of a religious disposition, Sadi in due course obtained a reputation for holiness, which culminated in the title of “Shaikh” (a man of dignity and position), by which he became generally known. For many years his life was devoted largely to travel; this, indeed, may be gathered from his own words: “I have wandered to various regions of the world, and everywhere have I mixed freely with the inhabitants. I have gathered something in each corner,

I have gleaned an ear from every harvest.”

On another occasion we learn from his own narrative that he was so enraged at the pagan rites practised at the renowned temple of Somnath in Gujarat that he incontinently threw the priest headlong into a well.

An anecdote related by himself reveals the next important event in his career. “Weary of the society of my friends at Damascus, I fled to the barren wastes of Jerusalem and associated with brutes, until I was made captive by the Franks,  and forced to dig clay, along with Jews, in the fortifications of Tripoli. One of the nobles of Aleppo, my ancient friend, happened to pass that way, and recollected me. He said, ‘What a state is this to be in! how farest thou?’ I answered, ‘Seeing that I could place confidence in God alone, I retired to the mountains and wilds, to avoid the society of man. But judge what must be my situation, now that I am confined in a stall in company with wretches who deserve not the name of men. To be chained by the feet with friends is better than to be free to walk in a garden with strangers.’ He took compassion on my forlorn condition, ransomed me from the Franks for ten dinars, and took me with him to Aleppo. My friend had a daughter, to whom he married me, and presented me with one hundred dinars as her dower. After some time my wife unveiled her disposition, which was ill-tempered, quarrelsome, obstinate, and abusive; so that the happiness of my life vanished. It has been well said, ‘A bad woman in the house of a virtuous man is his hell — even in this world.’ Take care how you connect yourself with a bad woman. Save us, O Lord, from this fiery trial!”

Sadi was an adept at repartee — two instances will suffice. Once his wife reproached him with the following taunt: “Art not thou the creature whom my father ransomed from captivity amongst the Franks for ten dinars?” “Yes,” was the rejoinder; “he redeemed me for ten dinars, and enslaved me to you for a hundred.”

On another occasion, when a poet at Tabriz, taking offence at the intrusion of his rival Sadi, asked the latter, somewhat abruptly, “Whence come you?” “From the delightful soil of Shiraz,” was the rejoinder. “Indeed,” was the sarcastic retort of the questioner; “the Shirazis in Tabriz are more numerous than dogs.” “The very reverse of our city,” so spake the quick-witted poet of Shiraz, “where Tabrizis are of less account than dogs.” The contest of satire was not however at an end, and after a pause the man of Tabriz renewed the attack by drawing attention to the baldness of his rival’s head. Turning up a vessel that chanced to be in his hand, “How comes it,” said he, “that the heads of the Shirazis are bald like the bottom of this bowl?” “By the same rule,” was the prompt and bitter rejoinder, “that the heads of the Tabrizis are as empty as the hollow of the bowl.”

Nothing daunted by the misfortunes attendant on his first marriage, Sadi during his travels in Arabia wedded a second spouse, with whom it may perhaps be surmised he lived on affectionate terms — judging, at least, from the anguish of soul with which he recorded the death of his youthful child, the offspring of this union.

It is, however, open to doubt whether Sadi experienced a very large measure of domestic happiness, inasmuch as in one of his poems he gives the advice, “Choose a fresh wife every spring — on New Year’s Day; for the almanack of last year is good for nothing.”

His liberality in entertaining guests was so great and lavish, that on one occasion a rival poet, whom he had regaled with most princely hospitality, despairing of returning in any adequate manner the profuse generosity of his former host, set before the man of letters, now a guest, the plainest and simplest of dishes. The explanation of this proceeding was couched in somewhat remarkable language. “I should have found great difficulty in giving you even one day’s dinner in the sumptuous style that reigned at your hospitable board during the three days which I had the happiness of passing with you. But in this, my economical mode of entertainment, I could indulge myself for years in the pleasure of your society, without feeling the expense.”

In the latter part of his life Sadi retired to a cell near Shiraz, where he passed his time in pious devotions, and in receiving visits from the noblest of the land.

“It was the custom of his illustrious visitants,” writes Sir Gore Ouseley, “to take with them meats and all kinds of viands, of which, when Sadi and his company had partaken, the Shaikh always put what remained in a basket suspended from his window, that the poor woodcutters of Shiraz, who daily passed his cell, might occasionally satisfy their hunger. It is said, and firmly believed in Persia, that one day a man dressed as a wood-cutter approached the basket, with the intent of plundering, but ere his hand reached its contents it dried up and withered. Concluding that it was a miracle worked by the Shaikh, the offender cried out to him for assistance. The holy man, in a reproving tone, said, ‘If thou art a wood-cutter, where are thy blistered hands, thy wounds from thorns, and thy labour-worn frame? Or if a robber, where is thy climbing-rope, thy arms, and thy hardened boldness that should have restrained thee from thus moaning and crying?’ He however took compassion on the hapless culprit, offered up a prayer for the restoration of his arm, and even bestowed upon him, with a proper admonition, a portion of the viands which he had in vain attempted to carry off by stealth.”

When the Atabaks were replaced by the Mughal dynasty of Persia (A.D. 1256), it chanced that the military commander of Shiraz compelled the greengrocers and market people of the city to purchase at the hands of their rulers, for a large amount, some dates which had but a nominal value. The matter was brought to the notice of Shaikh Sadi, who thereupon addressed a letter in verse to the Mughal governor, pointing out that the poet’s brother was so poor that “he has no trousers on his legs, and yet he has been compelled to buy dates at an exorbitant price. A worse misfortune than this,” it was added, “there is not.” The appeal was successful, and not only were dates given free of charge to the Shaikh’s impoverished brother, but “a paltry sum” was placed at his disposal as a gift from the governor on “learning that the man was poor.”

When the second of the Mughal monarchs of Persia ascended the throne (A.D. 1265) he chanced one day, in company with some of his ministers, to meet Sadi, and was astonished to find that the poet received at the hands of these ministers more consideration than was extended to himself, albeit a royal personage. Enquiring the cause of a circumstance so strange, his Majesty was asked in return whether he had not heard of the great Shaikh whose poetry was famous throughout the world. The result was that the Shaikh was summoned to the royal presence and requested to “give some counsel.” “Thou canst bear nothing with thee from this world to the next,” was the rejoinder, “save a recompense or a punishment, and the choice now rests with thee.” The monarch felt the reproach, so the Shaikh on leaving whispered in the royal ear the following verses:

“A monarch is the shadow of God;
 The shadow should be a close companion of its substance.
 The vulgar soul is incapable of good,
 If the sword be not king.
 All the right that appears in the world
 Is evidence of the monarch’s rectitude.
 A kingdom derives no advantage from him
 Whose every thought is an error.”

During the same reign one of the ministers submitted to Sadi five questions, to which a reply was invited. (1) Is a demon or a man the better? (2) How should I act if my enemy will not be reconciled to me (3) Is one who performs the pilgrimage to Mecca better than one who has neglected that duty? (4) Is a descendant of Ali  better than other people? (5) Would the poet be pleased to accept a present of a turban and 500 dinars as subsistence money for his birds? The messenger, the bearer of the letter, thought that he might with advantage be considered as one of the “birds,” and accordingly put into his own pocket 150 dinars, leaving a balance of no more than 350 dinars. The reply of Sadi, which betokened that he had detected the theft, ran thus:

“Thou hast sent me an honoured present and money.
 May thy wealth increase, and thine enemies be trodden under foot!
 For each dinar may a year of life be thine,
 So that thou mayest continue to live three hundred and fifty years.”

On receipt of this poetic effusion the minister gave an order on the treasury for no less than 10,000 dinars; but the treasurer had in the meantime passed away, a circumstance which the poet brought to the notice of his patron. When the latter learnt what had occurred, he increased the donation to no less than 50,000 dinars, with a suggestion that some portion of the money should be devoted to the erection of a house at Shiraz for the accommodation of travellers. Four of the questions propounded appear to have remained unanswered.

Shaikh Sadi died at a very advanced age in Shiraz, A.D. 1291. His tomb, originally held in much esteem and decked with extracts from his own poems, has more or less fallen into decay, though enough it is believed remains to mark the resting-place of one of Persia’s most gifted poets and men of letters.

“Sadi,” such is the description of him by a native annalist, “was short, and not very handsome. His head was extremely long, truly indicative of a grave and saintly aspect. His dress was eminently simple, consisting of a turban, a long blue gown worn over his undercoat, and a stick in his hand. The character of this venerable bard was highly noble and becoming a great person. He was extremely courteous and affable to his friends, and generous towards his enemies. In wit he surpassed every author of his age, and his humour was so successful that he could make the most silent and melancholy face laugh in his company. He was a boy among the circle of experienced youths, a sage among a society of divines. In a word, he was an accomplished scholar, an excellent master of pure Persian eloquence, an unsullied instructor of divinity, and a consummate painter of life and manners.”

The works by which Shaikh Sadi— “the nightingale of a thousand songs” — is best known are:

(a) The Bustan, an exquisite poem embodying moral precepts and rules of life;

(b) The Gulistan, possibly the most widely read book in Persian literature. Well indeed did Eastwick, when publishing a translation of this charming volume, write, “The school-boy lisps out his first lessons in it, the man of learning quotes it, and a vast number of the expressions have become proverbial. When we consider, indeed, the time in which it was written the first half of the thirteenth century — a time when gross darkness brooded over Europe, at least darkness which might have been, but, alas! was not felt the justness of many of its sentiments, and the glorious views of the Divine attributes contained in it, are truly remarkable,”

(c) The Pand Namah, or Scroll of Wisdom,  a small volume of poetry embodying precepts which would do no discredit to the philosophy of this, the twentieth century of the Christian era. Concise and elegant, the work is most popular throughout the length and breadth of the Persian-speaking East. This may indeed well be the case, inasmuch as, in addition to beauty of diction, it is written in a metre which flows in easy cadence, and fixes the words of the poem on the mind. Hence the lines are committed to memory to an extent that is probably not surpassed by any work in the Persian language. Byron’s lines known as the “Lover’s Last Adieu” may be quoted as an example of rhythm identical with that of Sadi’s Scroll of Wisdom. The two may with advantage be quoted side by side.

“The roses of love glad the garden of life.”
“Karima ba bakhsha ya bar hal i-ma.”

It only remains to add that no translation of The Scroll of Wisdom has been published in this country during the last hundred years (Gladwin’s text — in itself somewhat imperfect was issued with an appended translation in 1801), though in Bombay some twenty years ago in Indian scholar rendered it into English. Both works are out of print, and for all practical purposes it may be said that a translation is not procurable by the British public. Perhaps, therefore, no apology is needed for the present work.

Arthur N. Wollaston.

Glen Hill, Walmer,
    May 6, 1906.

Saadi’s Mausoleum in Shiraz, which was built between 1950 and 1952

Tomb of Saadi in his mausoleum

Depiction of Saadi’s tomb, c. 1840

Eugène Flandin’s portrayal of the tomb, c. 1851