Having finished the Nights, Mr. Payne commenced the translation of other Eastern stories—which he published under the title of Tales from the Arabic. [385]



Chapter XXV. 1883 to May 1885, The Kama Shastra Society



Bibliography:

69. Publications of the Kama Shastra Society.

Author. Translator. 1. The Kama Sutra. 1883 Vatsyayana. Bhagvanlal Indraji. 2. The Ananga Ranga. 1885 Kullianmull. " 3. The Arabian Nights. 1885-1886. " Burton. 4. The Scented Garden ("My old version"). 1886. Nafzawi. Burton and others. 5. The Beharistan. 1887. Jami. Rehatsek. 6. The Gulistan 1888. Sadi. " or Rose Garden.

Works still in Manuscript.

Author. Translator 7. The Nigaristan Jawini. Rehatsek. 8. The Observances of the Zenanah " 9. Etiquette of eating and Drinking " (A Persian Essay). 10. Physiognomies (A Persian MS.) Al-R'azy " 11. Anecdotes from the Nuzhat al Yaman. " (Persian). 12. The Merzuban Namah. (Persian). 13. Extracts from Al Mostatraf. (Arabic). " 14. Extracts from Siraj-ul-moluk. (Arabic). " 15. Extracts from Tuhfat al akhwan us Safa.* "

* For further particulars respecting these works see Appendix.



114. The Azure Apollo.

If Payne's translation had been met by the wind, Burton anticipated that his own, with its blunt faithfulness to the original and its erotic notes, would be met by whirlwind. Considering the temper of the public [386] at the time he thought it not improbable that an action would be brought against him, and in fancy he perceived himself standing at bay with the Authorised Version of the Bible in one hand as a shield, and Urquhart's Rabelais in the other as a missile.

But though a man of amazing courage, Burton was not one to jeopardise himself unnecessarily. He was quite willing to take any reasonable precautions. So he discussed the matter with his friend F. F. Arbuthnot, who had recently returned from India, married, [387] and settled at a charming place, Upper House Court, near Guildford. Mr. Arbuthnot, who, as we have seen, had for years given his whole soul to Eastern literature, had already published a group of Hindu stories [388] and was projecting manuals of Persian [389] and Arabic [390] literature and a series of translations of famous Eastern works, some of which were purely erotic. He now suggested that this series and Burton's Arabian Nights should be published nominally by a society to which might be given the appropriate name, "The Kama Shastra"—that is the cupid-gospel—Society, Kama being the Hindu god of love. This deity is generally represented as a beautiful youth riding on an emerald-plumaged lorry or parrot. In his hand he holds a bow of flowers and five arrows—the five senses; and dancing girls attend him. His favourite resort is the country round Agra, where Krishna [391] the azure Hindu Apollo,

"Tunes harps immortal, and to strains divine Dances by moonlight with the Gopia nine." [392]

The books were to be translated by Rehatsek and a Hindu pundit named Bhagvanlal Indraji, Burton and Arbuthnot were to revise and annotate, and Arbuthnot was to find the money. Burton fell in with the idea, as did certain other members of Arbuthnot's circle, who had always been keenly interested in Orientalism, and so was formed the famous Kama Shastra Society. That none of the particulars relating to the history of the Society has before been made public, is explained by the fact that Burton and Arbuthnot, conversant with the temper of the public, took pains to shroud their proceedings in mystery. It cannot, however, be too strongly insisted upon that Arbuthnot's standpoint, like Burton's, was solely for the student. "He wished," he said, "to remove the scales from the eyes of Englishmen who are interested in Oriental literature." These erotic books in one form or another are in the hands of 200,000,000 of Orientals. Surely, argued Arbuthnot, a few genuine English students—a few, grave, bald-headed, spectacled, happily married old gentlemen—may read them without injury. [393] The modern student seeks his treasure everywhere, and cares not into what midden he may probe so long as he finds it. No writer on 18th century French History, for example, would nowadays make half apologies, as Carlyle did, for having read Casanova. Indeed, he would lay himself open to censure unless he admitted having studied it carefully. Still, every genuine and right-minded student regards it as a duty to keep books such as these, which are unsuited for the general public, under lock and key—just as the medical man treats his books of plates and other reference volumes. Then again it is entirely a mistake to suppose that the works issued or contemplated by the Kama Shastra Society were all of them erotic. Two out of the six actually done: The Beharistan and The Gulistan, and the whole of the nine still in manuscript, might, after a snip or two with the scissors, be read aloud in almost any company.

We have the first hint of the Kama Shastra Society in a letter to Payne, 5th August 1882. "I hope," says Burton, "you will not forget my friend, F. F. Arbuthnot, and benefit him by your advice about publishing when he applies to you for it. He has undertaken a peculiar branch of literature—the Hindu Erotic, which promises well." On Dec. 23th he writes: "My friend Arbuthnot writes to me that he purposes calling upon you. He has founded a society consisting of himself and myself." After further reference to the idea he adds, "I hope that you will enjoy it." A few days later Mr. Arbuthnot called on Mr. Payne. Mr. Payne did not "enjoy" the unfolding of the Kama Shastra scheme, he took no interest in it whatever; but, of course, he gave the information required as to cost of production; and both then and subsequently assisted in other matters of business. Moreover, to Mr. Arbuthnot himself, as a man of great personal charm, Mr. Payne became sincerely attached, and a friendship resulted that was severed only by death.

The arrangement about financing the books did not, of course, apply to The Arabian Nights. That was Burton's own affair; for its success was supposed to be assured from the first. Of the books other than The Arabian Nights published by the Kama Shastra Society—each of which purported, facetiously, to be printed at Behares, the name which Burton chose to give to Stoke Newington, we shall now give a brief account.

Several, we said, are erotic. But it should be clearly understood what is here meant by the term. The plays of Wycherley and other Caroline dramatists are erotic in a bad sense. We admit their literary qualities, but we cannot hide from ourselves the fact that they were written by libertines and that an attempt is made to render vice attractive. The injured husband, for example, is invariably ridiculed, the adulterer glorified. The Hindu books, on the other hand, were written by professedly religious men whose aim was "not to encourage chambering and wantonness, but simply and in all sincerity to prevent the separation of husband and wife"—not to make them a married couple look afield, but "to lead them to love each other more by understanding each other better." Vatsyayan and Kullianmull, [394] indeed, though they poetized the pleasures of the flesh, would have been horrified could they have read the plays of Wycherley and Etheridge. The erotic books that Arbuthnot wished to be translated were the following—all by Hindu poets more or less famous:—

The Kama Sutra (Book of Love) by Vatsyayana. Ananga Ranga (Stage of Love) by Kullianmull. Ratirahasya (Secrets of Love) by Kukkoka. Panchasakya (The Five Arrows) by Jyotirisha. Smara Pradipa (Light of Love) by Gunakara. Ratimanjari (Garland of Love) by Jayadeva. Rasmanjari (Sprout of Love) by Bhanudatta.

Of these seven books two only were issued, namely the Kama Sutra and the Ananga Ranga or Lila Shastra. The precise share that Burton [395] had in them will never be known. It is sufficient to say that he had a share in both, and the second, according to the title page, was "translated from the Sanskrit and annotated by A. F. F. and B. F. R.," that is F. F. Arbuthnot and Richard Francis Bacon—the initials being purposely reversed.



115. The Kama Sutra.

When commencing upon The Kama Sutra, Indraji—for he was the actual translator—found his copy, which had been procured in Bombay, to be defective, so he wrote to Benares, Calcutta and Jeypoor for copies of the manuscripts preserved in the Sanskrit libraries of those places. These having been obtained and compared with each other, a revised copy of the entire work was compiled and from this Indraji made his translation. "This work," he says, "is not to be used merely as an instrument for satisfying our desires. A person acquainted with the true principles of this science, who preserved his Dharma (virtue or religious merit), his Artha (worldly wealth) and his Kama (pleasure, or sensual gratification), and who has regard to the customs of the people, is sure to obtain the mastery over his senses. In short, an intelligent and knowing person, attending to Dharma, and Artha and also to Kama, without becoming the slave of his passions, will obtain success in everything that he may do." According to Vatsyayana, Kama should be taught just as is taught—say, hygiene or political economy. "A man practising Dharma, Artha and Kama enjoys happiness both in this world and in the world to come." It must not be supposed that the work is entirely erotic. There are also directions for one's conduct at religious festivals, especially that in honour of Saraswati, [396] picnics, drinking parties and other social gatherings. Still, the erotic preponderates. The work is mainly a handbook on Love. One is informed respecting what women are or are not worthy of affection. There are full instructions respecting kissing, an art which is not so easy to learn as some persons think. Still, a man who could not kiss properly after reading the Kama Sutra would be a dullard indeed. Some of the remarks are quaint enough. Thus we are told that "nothing tends to increase love so much as the effects of marking with the nails [397] and biting." Some girls when asked in marriage are slow to make up their minds. With that situation there are, it seems, several ways of dealing. The simplest is the following: "When the girl goes to a garden, or to some village in the neigbourhood, the man should, with his friends, fall on her guards, and having killed them, or frightened them away, forcibly carry her off." Sometime it is the man who is shy. In such cases the girl "should bring him to her house under the pretence of seeing the fights of quails, cocks and rams, of hearing the maina (a kind of starling) talk.... she should also amuse him for a long time by telling him such stories and doing such things as he may take most delight in."

For Edwin and Angelina when they get married there is also much wholesome instruction. "The wife, whether she be a woman of noble family or a virgin widow re-married, [398] should lead a chaste life." "When the man sets out on a journey she should make him swear that he will return quickly. [399]... When the man does return home she should worship the God Kama." Ladies will be interested to learn that there are twenty-seven artifices by which a woman can get money out of a man. One is "Praising his intelligence to his face." Then there are useful directions for the personal adornment of both sexes. "If the bone of a peacock or of a hyena be covered with gold and tied to the right hand, it makes a man lovely in the eyes of other people."

Of the essential portions of the book it is sufficient to say that they are similar to those of the other avowedly erotic Eastern works, the contents of the principal of which have been touched upon by Burton in the Terminal Essay to his Arabian Nights and in some of his notes. Finally we are told that the Kama Sutra was composed for the benefit of the world by Vatsyayana, while leading the life of a religious student, and wholly engaged in the contemplation of the Deity. At the same time, the teaching of this holy man amounts to very much the same as that of Maupassant, which is, to use Tolstoy's words, "that life consists in pleasures of which woman with her love is the chief, and in the double, again reflected delight of depicting this love and exciting it in others." [400]

The work lets a flood of light on Hindu manners and customs; and it must be borne in mind that the translation was issued privately at a high price and intended only for "curious students." In the Preface, Burton and Arbuthnot observe that after a perusal of the Hindoo work the reader will understand the subject upon which it treats, "At all events from a materialistic, realistic and practical point of view. If all science is founded more or less on a stratum of facts, there can be no harm in making known to mankind generally certain matters intimately connected with their private, domestic and social life. Alas! complete ignorance of them has unfortunately wrecked many a man and many a woman, while a little knowledge of a subject generally ignored by the masses would have enabled numbers of people to understand many things which they believed to be quite incomprehensible, or which were not thought worthy of their consideration."

Writing to Payne, 15th January, 1883, Burton says, "Has Arbuthnot sent you his Vatsyayana? [401] He and I and the Printer have started a Hindu Kama Shastra (Ars Amoris Society). It will make the Brit(ish) Pub(lis) stare. Please encourage him." Later Arbuthnot, in reply to a question put to him by a friend, said that the Society consisted practically of himself, Sir Richard Burton and the late Lord Houghton. [402]



Chapter XXVI. The Ananga Ranga or Lila Shastra



Bibliography:

70. The Book of the Sword. 1884.



116. The Ananga Ranga. [403]

The title page of the second book, the Ananga Ranga, which was issued in 1885, was as follows:

ANANGA RANGA (Stage of the Bodiless One) or THE HINDU ART OF LOVE (Ars Amoris Indica) Translated from the Sanskrit and annotated by A. F. F. and B. F. R.

Cosmopoli MDCCCLXXXV, for the Kama Shastra Society of London and Benares, and for private circulation only.

Dedicated to that small portion of the British Public which takes enlightened interest in studying the manners and customs of the olden East.

We are told that this book was written about 1450 by the arch-poet Kalyana Mull, [404] that lithographed copies have been printed by hundreds of thousands, that the book is in the hands of almost every one "throughout the nearer East," and also that it is "an ethnological treasure, which tells us as much of Hindu human nature as The Thousand Nights and a Night of Arab manners and customs in the cinquecento." In India the book is known as the Kama Shastra or Lila Shastra, the Scripture of Play or Amorous Sport. The author says quaintly, "It is true that no joy in the world of mortals can compare with that derived from the knowledge of the Creator. Second, however, and subordinate only to his are the satisfaction and pleasure arising from the possession of a beautiful woman."

"From the days of Sotades and Ovid," says the writer of the Preface, who is certainly Burton, "to our own time, Western authors have treated the subject either jocularly or with a tendency to hymn the joys of immorality, and the gospel of debauchery. The Indian author has taken the opposite view, and it is impossible not to admire the delicacy with which he has handled an exceedingly difficult theme. ....Feeling convinced that monogamy is a happier state than polygamy, he would save the married couple from the monotony and satiety which follow possession, by varying their pleasures in every conceivable way and by supplying them with the means of being psychically pure and physically pleasant to each other."

There is a reference to this work in Burton's Vikram and the Vampire, where we read: [405] "As regards the neutral state, that poet was not happy in his ideas who sang,

'Whene'er indifference appears, or scorn, Then, man, despair! then, hapless lover, mourn!'

for a man versed in the Lila Shastra can soon turn a woman's indifference into hate, which I have shown is as easily permuted to love."

This curious book concludes: "May this treatise, Ananga Ranga, be beloved of man and woman, as long as the Holy River Ganges, springeth from Shiva with his wife Gauri on his left side; as long as Lakshmi loveth Vishnu; as long as Brahma is engaged in the study of the Vedas, and as long as the earth, the moon and the sun endure."

The Kama Shastra Society also issued a translation of the first twenty chapters of The Scented Garden. [406] In reality it was a translation of the French version of Liseux, but it was imperfect and had only a few notes. It has been repeatedly denied that Burton had anything to do with it. All we can say is that in a letter to Mr. A. G. Ellis of 8th May 1887, he distinctly calls it "my old version," [407] and he must mean that well-known edition of 1886, because all the other impressions are like it, except in respect to the title page.



117. The Beharistan, 1887.

The Society now determined to issue unexpurgated editions of the three following great Persian classics:

The Gulistan or Rose Garden, by Sadi (A.D. 1258). The Nigaristan or Picture Gallery, by Jawini (A.D. 1334). The Beharistan or Abode of Spring, by Jami (A.D. 1487).

The first to appear was The Beharistan in 1887. Jami, the author, is best known in England on account of his melodious poems Salaman and Absal, so exquisitely rendered by Edward FitzGerald, and Ysuf and Zuleika (Joseph and Potiphar's Wife), familiar to Englishmen mainly through Miss Costello's fragrant adaptation. [408] To quote from the Introduction of the translation of The Beharistan, which is written in Arbuthnot's bald and hesitating style, "there is in this work very little indeed to be objected to. A few remarks or stories scattered here and there would have to be omitted in an edition printed for public use or for public sale. But on the whole the author breathes the noblest and purest sentiments, and illustrates his meanings by the most pleasing, respectable, and apposite tales, along with numerous extracts from the Koran." The work consists of stories and verses—two or three of which will be found in our Appendix—pleasantly intermingled; but as Rehatsek, the translator, made no attempt to give the verses rhythmical form, only an inadequate idea is conveyed of the beauty of the original. It would require an Edward FitzGerald or a John Payne to do justice to Jami's jewelled verses.



118. The Gulistan, 1888.

The Gulistan of Sadi, [409] which was the next book issued, is best known in England from the translations by James Ross (1823) and Edward B. Eastwick (1852). Sadi's aim was to make "a garden of roses whose leaves the rude hand of the blast of Autumn could not affect." [410] "The very brambles and rubbish of this book," says an ancient enthusiastic admirer, "are of the nature of ambergris." Men treasured the scraps of Sadi's writing "as if they were gold leaf," and The Gulistan has attained a popularity in the East "which has never been reached in this Western world." The school-boy lisps his first lessons in it, the pundit quotes it, and hosts of its sayings have become proverbial. From end to end the "unity, the unapproachable majesty, the omnipotence, the long-suffering and the goodness of God" are nobly set forth—the burden of every chapter being:

"The world, my brother! will abide with none, By the world's Maker let thy heart be won."



119. The Nigaristan.

The third of the great trio, Jawini's Nigaristan, did not reach the press owing to Arbuthnot's death. The manuscript, however, in Rehatsek's hand-writing, is still in the possession of the Royal Asiatic Society, 22, Albermarle Street, and we trust to see it some day suitably edited and published. Arbuthnot, who contributes the preface, points out that it contains 534 stories in prose and verse, and that it abounds "in pure and noble sentiments, such as are to be found scattered throughout the Sacred Books of the East, the Old and New Testaments and the Koran." A few citations from it will be found in our Appendix.



120. Letters to Payne, 19th January 1884.

On January 19th, Burton, after asking for the remaining volumes of Mr. Payne's Nights, says "A friend here is reading them solemnly and with huge delight: he would be much disappointed to break off perforce half way. When do you think the 9 vols. will be finished? Marvellous weather here. I am suffering from only one thing, a want to be in Upper Egypt. And, of course, they won't employ me. I have the reputation of 'independent,' a manner of 'Oh! no, we never mention it, sir,' in the official catalogue, and the one unpardonable Chinese Gordon has been sacked for being 'eccentric,' which Society abominates. England is now ruled by irresponsible clerks, mostly snobs. My misfortunes in life began with not being a Frenchman. I hope to be in London next Spring, and to have a talk with you about my translation of the 1001."

All the early months of 1884, Burton was seriously ill, but in April he began to mend. He writes to Payne on the 17th: "I am just beginning to write a little and to hobble about (with a stick). A hard time since January 30th! Let me congratulate you on being at Vol. ix. Your translation is excellent and I am glad to see in Academy that you are working at Persian tales. [411] Which are they? In my youth I read many of them. Now that your 1001 are so nearly finished I am working at my translation." He then asks what arrangements Mr. Payne made with the publishers and the cost of the printing. "All I want," he says, on April 27th, "is a guide in dealing with that dragon the publisher;" and in later letters he thanks Mr. Payne for answering his questions. On June 20th (1884) writing from Marienbad he says, "I should much like to know what you are doing with the three supplemental volumes, and I hope that each will refer readers to the source whence you borrow it. This will be a great aid to the students. The more I examine your translation the better I like it. Mine will never be so popular because I stick so much to the text. [412] No arrangements yet make about it, and MS. will not be all ready till end of January. We (my wife and I) have enjoyed our ten days at Marienbad muchly, but the weather has as yet prevented bathing; a raw wester with wind and rain. Bad for poor people who can afford only the 21 days de rigueur. Cuthbert Bede (Rev. Edward Bradley) is here and my friend J. J. Aubertin is coming."



121. At Sauerbrunn, 12th August 1884.

The next letter to Payne, written from Sauerbrunn, in Austria, is dated 12th August 1884. After enquiring concerning "the supererogatory three vols." he says, "We left Marienbad last of last month, and came to this place (a very pretty little spa utterly clear of Britishers), where we shall stay till the end of the month and then again for Trieste to make plans for the winter. Will you kindly let me have the remaining volumes, and when you have a spare quarter of an hour I want a little assistance from you. When you sent me your Breslau you pencilled in each volume the places from which you had taken matter for translation (How wretchedly that Breslau is edited!) I want these notes scribbled out by way of saving time. Of course I shall have to read over the whole series; but meanwhile will content myself with your references. Have you the Arabian Nights published in Turkish by Mr. Clermont Ganneau? You will want it for the supererogatory. If you can't get it I have it somewhere, and will look for it on return to Trieste. Have you a copy of Trebutien? Cotton, of Academy has just sent me Clouston's Book of Sindibad [413] for review. I thought it was our old friend the sailor, but find out my mistake. You will have no objection to my naming (in my review) your style in the 1001 as that he should have taken for a model."

He writes again on September 9th (1884): "On return here I found Vol. ix., with the dedication which delighted me hugely. I did not notice your fine work in reviewing the Clouston treatise. I had not your express permission. Living so far from the world I am obliged to be very careful in these matters: one never knows what harm one may be doing unawares. Of course I shall speak of your translation in my preface, as it deserves to be spoken of. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to look over your proofs; in fact, I should be sorry not to do so. I have not yet found Ganneau's Nights, but I hope to do so. My Turkish Edition was burnt many years ago in a fire at Grindlay's; but you will easily find a copy. I suppose you read Turkish; [414] and if you do not you will in three months; the literary style is a mass of Persian and Arabic. You must find out which is the best Turkish Edition. My copy had evidently been translated from a MS. very unlike the Calcutta and Bulak.... I have told Quartich to send you a cop of Camoens (Lyrics), which will be out in a few days."



122. Burton's Circulars, September 1884.

By September 1884 the first volumes of Burton's Arabian Nights were almost ready for print, and Burton asked himself how many copies would suffice the public. He was aware that 1,500 persons were disappointed of being able to obtain copies of Mr. Payne's Edition, but it did not necessarily follow that all these 1,500 would subscribe to his. Finally he decided upon 1,000, and he had three circulars printed respecting the work.

The first began "Captain Burton, having neither agent nor publisher for his forthcoming Arabian Nights, requests that all subscribers will kindly send their names to him personally (Captain Burton, Trieste, Austria), when they will be entered in a book kept for the purpose." It was then mentioned that there would be ten volumes at a guinea apiece, [415] each to be paid for on delivery, that 1,000 copies would be printed, and that no cheaper edition would be issued. The second dealt with the advantages of the work to students of Arabic. The third consisted of an article welcoming the work from The Daily Tribune, New York, written by G. W. S(malley). Burton posted about 20,000 of these circulars at an expense of some L80, but received only 300 favourable replies. Lady Burton, in dismay, then wrote to Mr. Payne begging for advice. Several letters passed between them, and Mr. Payne sent her the names of the subscribers to his own book and lists of other likely persons. A second shower of circulars effected the desired purpose. Indeed it did far more, for the number of favourable replies ultimately rose to 2,000. But as we have seen, Burton had restricted himself to the issue of 1,000. So he found that he had made precisely the same mistake as Mr. Payne. However, it could not be remedied.



123. The Book of the Sword.

This year was published Burton's The Book of the Sword, which he dedicated, appropriately, to the memory of his old friend Alfred Bates Richards, who had died in 1876. It is a history of the sword in all times and countries down to the Middle Ages, [416] with numerous illustrations, the interest being mainly archaeological. Of "The Queen of Weapons" he ever spoke glowingly. "The best of calisthenics," he says, "this energetic educator teaches the man to carry himself like a soldier. A compendium of gymnastics, it increases strength and activity, dexterity, and rapidity of movement. The foil is still the best training tool for the consensus of eye and hand, for the judgment of distance and opportunity, and, in fact, for the practice of combat. And thus swordsmanship engenders moral confidence and self-reliance, while it stimulates a habit of resource."



124. The Lyrics of Camoens, 1884.

This same year, too, he published his translation of the Lyrics of Camoens, in which, as will have been judged from the letters already quoted, he had been assisted by Mr. John Payne, who was also a Portuguese scholar and a lover of Camoens. "The learning and research of your work," wrote Mr. A. C. Swinburne, in reference to Burton's six Camoens volumes, "are in many points beyond all praise of mine, but not more notable than the strength and skill that wield them. I am hungrily anticipating the Arabian Nights."



125. More Letters to Payne, 1st October 1884.

On October 1st 1884, Burton wrote to thank Mr. Payne for a splendid and complete set (specially bound) of his edition of the Nights. He says, "I am delighted with it, especially with the dedication. [417]... To my horror Quaritch sent me a loose vol. of his last catalogue with a notice beginning, 'The only absolutely true translation of the [Arabian Nights], &c.' My wife telegraphed to him and followed with a letter ordering it not to be printed. All in vain. I notice this only to let you know that the impertinence is wholly against my will. Life in Trieste is not propitious to work as in the Baths; yet I get on tolerably. Egypt is becoming a comedy." Then follows the amazing remark: "I expect to see Gordon (who is doubtless hand in hand with the Mahdi) sent down to offer to guide Wolseley up to Khartum."



126. Death of Gordon, January 1885.

Burton little dreamt that the days of the heroic Englishman were numbered. Sent by the English Government to the Soudan, Gordon had been at Khartum hardly a month before it was invested by the Mahdi. The relief expedition arrived just two days too late. Gordon was slain! This was in January 1885. The shock to Burton was comparable only to that which he received by the death of Speke. In one of the illustrated papers there was a picture of Gordon lying in the desert with vultures hovering around. "Take it away!" said Burton. "I can't bear to look at it. I have had to feel like that myself."



127. W. F. Kirby, [418] 25th March 1885.

Shortly after the announcement of his edition of the Nights, Burton received a letter from Mr. W. F. Kirby, [418] better known as an entomologist, who had devoted much study to European editions of that work, a subject of which Burton knew but little. Mr. Kirby offered to supply a bibliographical essay which could be used as an appendix. Burton replied cordially, and this was the beginning of a very pleasant friendship. Mr. Kirby frequently corresponded with Burton, and they often met at Mr. Kirby's house, the Natural History Museum, South Kensington, or the British Museum. Says Mr. Kirby: "At the British Museum, Burton seemed more inclined to talk than to work. I thought him weak in German [419] and when I once asked him to help me with a Russian book, he was unable to do so." Thus even a Burton has his limitations. "He told me," continues Mr. Kirby, "that he once sat between Sir Henry Rawlinson and a man who had been Ambassador at St. Petersburg, and he spoke to one in Persian, and the other in Russian, but neither of them could understand him. I have never, however, been able to make up my mind whether the point of the story told against him or against them. [420] Although Burton was a student of occult science, I could never lead him to talk about crystals or kindred subjects; and this gave me the idea that he was perhaps pledged to secrecy. Still, he related his experiences freely in print." Oddly, enough, Burton used to call Mr. Kirby "Mr. Rigby," and he never could break himself of the habit. "Apparently," says Mr. Kirby, "he associated my name with that of his old opponent, Colonel, afterwards Major-General Rigby, [421] Consul at Zanzibar." In a letter of 25th March 1885, Burton asks Mr. Kirby to draw up "a full account of the known MSS. and most important European editions, both those which are copies of Galland and (especially) those which are not. It will be printed in my terminal essay with due acknowledgment of authorship." [422] On April 8th (1885) he says, "I don't think my readers will want an exhaustive bibliography, but they will expect me to supply information which Mr. Payne did not deem necessary to do in his excellent Terminal Essay. By the by, I shall totally disagree with him about Harun al Rashid and the Barmecides, [423] who were pestilent heretics and gave rise to the terrible religious trouble of the subsequent reigns. A tabular arrangement of the principal tales will be exceedingly useful."



Chapter XXVII. May 1885-5th Feb. 1886, A Glance through "The Arabian Nights"



Bibliography:

71. The Thousand Nights and a Night. 1st Vol. 12th September 1885. 10th Vol. 12th July 1886. 72. Il Pentamerone. (Translated—not published till 1893). 73. Iracema or Honey Lips; and Manoel de Moraes the Convert. Translated from the Brazilian. 1886.



128. Slaving at the Athenaeum, May 1885.

In May 1885, Burton obtained leave of absence, and on arriving in England he made various arrangements about the printing of The Arabian Nights and continued the work of translation. When in London he occupied rooms at the St. James's Hotel (now the Berkeley) in Piccadilly. He used to say that the St. James's Hotel was the best place in the world in which to do literary work, and that the finest place in the whole world was the corner of Piccadilly. Still, he spent most of his time, as usual, at the Athenaeum. Mr. H. R. Tedder, the Secretary, and an intimate friend of Burton's, tells me that "He would work at the round table in the library for hours and hours—with nothing for refreshment except a cup of coffee and a box of snuff, which always stood at his side;" and that he was rarely without a heavy stick with a whistle at one end and a spike at the other—the spike being to keep away dogs when he was travelling in hot countries. This was one of the many little inventions of his own. Mr. Tedder describes him as a man of great and subtle intellect and very urbane. "He had an athletic appearance and a military carriage, and yet more the look of a literary man than of a soldier." In summer as usual he wore white clothes, the shabby old beaver, and the tie-pin shaped like a sword. Mr. Tedder summed him up as "as a compound of a Benedictine monk, a Crusader and a Buccaneer."

The Hon. Henry J. Coke, looking in at the Athenaeum library one day, and noticing the "white trousers, white linen coat and a very shabby old white beaver hat," exclaimed, "Hullo Burton, do you find it so very hot?"

"I don't want," said Burton, "to be mistaken for anyone else."

"There's not much fear of that, without your clothes," followed Coke. [424]

During this holiday Burton visited most of his old friends, and often ran down to Norwood to see his sister and her daughter, while everyone remarked his brightness and buoyancy. "It was delightful," says Miss Stisted, "to see how happy he was over the success of his venture." He had already resolved to issue six additional volumes, to be called Supplemental Nights. He would then take sixteen thousand pounds. He calculated printing and sundries as costing four thousand, and that the remainder would be net profit. As a matter of fact the expenses arose to L6,000, making the net profit L10,000 [425] Burton had wooed fortune in many ways, by hard study in India, by pioneering in Africa, by diplomacy at Court, by gold-searching in Midian and at Axim, by patent medicining. Finally he had found it in his inkstand; but as his favourite Jami says, it requires only a twist of the pen to transmute duvat into dulat [426]—inkstand into fortune.

Except when his father died, Burton had never before possessed so large a sum, and, at the time, it appeared inexhaustible. Bubbling over with fun, he would pretend to make a great mystery as to the Kama Shastra Society at Benares, where he declared the Nights were being printed.



129. A Visit to Mr. Arbuthnot's.

Of all the visits to be made during this holiday Burton had looked forward to none with so much pleasure as those to Mr. Arbuthnot, or "Bunny," [427] as he called him, and Mr. Payne. Mr. Arbuthnot was still living at Upper House Court, Guildford, studying, writing books, and encouraging struggling men of letters with a generosity that earned for him the name of "the English Mecaenas;" and it was there the friends discussed the publications of the Kama Shastra Society and made arrangements for the issue of fresh volumes. While the roses shook their odours over the garden, they talked of Sadi's roses, Jami's "Aromatic herbs," and "Trees of Liberality," [428] and the volume Persian Portraits, [429] which Arbuthnot, assisted by Edward Rehatsek, was at the moment preparing for the press. Among the objects at Mr. Arbuthnot's heart was, as we have said, the resuscitation of the old Oriental Translation fund, which was originally started in 1824, the Society handling it having been established by Royal Charter. A series of works had been issued between 1829 and 1879, but the funds were completely exhausted by the publication of Al Biruni's Memoirs of India, and there were no longer any subscribers to the Society. Mr. Arbuthnot now set himself assiduously to revive this fund, he contributed to it handsomely himself and by his energy induced a number of others to contribute. It is still in existence, and in accordance with his suggestion is worked by the Royal Asiatic Society, though the subscriptions and donations to the Translation Fund are kept entirely separate, and are devoted exclusively to the production of translations of Oriental works, both ancient and modern. Thanks to the fund, a number of translations of various Oriental works has been issued, including volumes by Professor Cowell, Rehatsek, Miss C. M. Ridding, Dr. Gaster and Professor Rhys Davids. Its most important publication, however, is the completion of the translation of Hariri's Assemblies, [430] done by Steingass. [431]



130. Dr. Steingass.

Born in 1825, Dr. Steingass came to England in 1873, and after five years as Professor of Modern Languages at Wakefield Grammar School, Birmingham, was appointed Professor at the Oriental Institute, Woking. Though entirely self-taught, he was master of fourteen languages. [432] His Arabic Dictionary (1884) and his Persian English Dictionary (1892) are well known, the latter being the best extant, but he will, after all, be chiefly remembered by his masterly rendering of Hariri. Dr. Steingass presently became acquainted with Burton, for whom he wrote the article "On the Prose Rhyme and the Poetry of the Nights." [433] He also assisted Burton with the Notes, [434] supervised the MSS. of the Supplemental Volumes and enriched the last three with results of his wide reading and lexicographical experience. [435] The work of transcribing Burton's manuscript and making the copy for the press fell to a widow lady, Mrs. Victoria Maylor, a Catholic friend of Mrs. Burton. Mrs. Maylor copied not only The Arabian Nights, but several of Burton's later works, including The Scented Garden.



131. Anecdotes.

When asked why he spent so much time and money on Orientalism, Arbuthnot gave as excuse his incompetency to do anything else. He admitted, indeed, that for the higher walks of life, such as whist and nap, he had no aptitude. Occasionally at Upper House Court, politics were introduced, and Arbuthnot, a staunch Liberal in a shire of Tories, was sometimes rallied upon his opinions by the Conservative Burton and Payne. He took it all, however, as he took everything else, good humouredly, and even made some amiable attempts to convert his opponents. "His Radicalism," says Mr. Payne, amusingly, "was entirely a matter of social position and connection. He was good enough for a Tory." As usual, Burton paid a visit to Fryston, and he occasionally scintillated at Lord Houghton's famous Breakfasts in London. Once the friends were the guests of a prosperous publisher, who gave them champagne in silver goblets. "Doesn't this," said Lord Houghton, raising a bumper to his lips, "make you feel as if you were drinking out of the skulls of poor devil authors?" For reply Burton tapped his own forehead.

About this time an anonymous letter of Burton's appeared in The World, but we forget upon what subject. It excited wide interest, however, and hundreds of persons wrote to Mr. Yates, the editor, for the name of the author.

"Did you see my letter in The World?" enquired Burton of Mrs. E. J. Burton.

"The Christian World?" asked Mrs. Burton innocently.

"No," replied Burton, sharply, "The Unchristian World."

Once when Burton was present at some gathering, a missionary caused a shudder to run through the company by saying that he had had the dreadful experience of being present at a cannibal feast. The cannibals, he said, brought in their prisoner, butchered him, cut him up, and handed the pieces round smoking hot. With his curious feline laugh, Burton enquired, "Didn't they offer you any?" "They did," replied the missionary, "but of course I refused." "What a fool you were," cried Burton, "to miss such a unique opportunity."



132. The Pentameron. Burton and Gladstone.

We must next record a visit to Mr. Payne, who then resided in London. Burton talked over his projects, and said that he had been wondering what book to take up after the completion of The Nights. "I think," said he, "I shall fix upon Boccaccio next."

"My dear boy," followed Mr. Payne, "I've just done him." [436] As his poem "Salvestra" shows, Mr. Payne's mind had for long been running on "that sheaf of flowers men call Decameron." His brilliant translation was, indeed, already in the press, and it appeared the following year in three volumes.

"You are taking the bread out of my mouth," commented Burton plaintively.

"But," continued Mr. Payne, "there is another work that I thought of doing—The Pentameron, [437] by Giambattista Basile, and if you care to take my place I will not only stand aside but lend you the materials collected for the purpose." Burton, who had some knowledge of the Neapolitan dialect but had never met with the work referred to, welcomed the idea; and as soon as he had finished the Nights he commenced a translation of The Pentameron, which, however, was not published until after his death. His rendering, which cannot be praised, was aptly described by one of the critics as "an uncouth performance." Burton also told Payne about the proposed Ariosto translation, and they discussed that too, but nothing was done.

On July 19th 1885, the Burtons lunched with Lord Houghton—"our common Houghton," as Mr. Swinburne used to call him; and found his lordship unwell, peevish, and fault-finding. He had all the trials of the successful man who possesses everything that wealth can purchase or the mind conceive.

"Good-bye, my dear old friend," cried Burton, when parting, "Would that I could share your troubles with you!" [438]

But poor Lord Houghton was too far gone to appreciate the jest. Indeed, he was on the brink of the grave. A few days later he left for Vichy, where he died on August 11th. His remains were brought to Fryston, and Burton and Arbuthnot were present at his funeral.

In October, while he was the guest of Lord Salisbury at Hatfield, Burton solicited the consulate of Morocco, and as his application was supported by fifty men of prominence he felt almost certain of obtaining it.

Apparently, it was during this visit to England, too, that Burton committed the frightful sin of contradicting Mr. Gladstone. At some great house after dinner, Mr. Gladstone, who was the guest of the evening, took it upon himself, while every one listened in respectful silence, to enlarge on Oriental matters.

After he had finished, Burton, who had been fidgeting considerably, turned to him and said, "I can assure you, Mr. Gladstone, that everything you have said is absolutely and entirely opposite to fact."

The rest of the company were aghast, could scarcely, indeed, believe their ears; and one of them, as soon as he had recovered from the shock, was seen scribbling like mad on a menu card. Presently Burton felt the card tucked into his hand under the table. On glancing at it he read "Please do not contradict Mr. Gladstone. Nobody ever does."



133. A Brief Glance through the Nights.

By this time Burton had finished the first volume of his translation of The Arabian Nights, which left the press 12th September 1885. The book was handsomely bound in black and gold, the colours of the Abbaside caliphs; and contained a circular "earnestly requesting that the work might not be exposed for sale in public places or permitted to fall into the hands of any save curious students of Moslem manners." The last volume was issued in July 1886. Let us turn over the pages of this remarkable work, surrender ourselves for a few moments to its charms, and then endeavour to compare it calmly and impartially with the great translation by Mr. Payne.

What a glorious panorama unfolds itself before us! Who does not know the introduction—about the king who, because his wife was unfaithful, vowed to take a new wife every evening and slay her in the morning! And all about the vizier's daughter, the beautiful Shahrazad, who, with a magnificent scheme in her head, voluntarily came forward and offered to take the frightful risk.

Did ever tale-teller compare with Shahrazad? Who does not sympathise with the Trader who killed the invisible son of the jinni? Who has not dreamt of the poor fisherman and the pot that was covered with the seal of King Solomon? The story of Duban, who cured King Yunon of leprosy and was sent home on the royal steed reads like a verse out of Esther, [439] and may remind us that there is no better way of understanding the historical portions of the Bible than by studying The Arabian Nights. King Yunan richly deserved the death that overtook him, if only for his dirty habit of wetting his thumb when turning over the leaves of the book. [440] What a rare tale is that of the Ensorcelled Prince, alias The Young King of the Black Isles, who though he sat in a palace where fountains limbecked water "clear as pearls and diaphanous gems," and wore "silken stuff purfled with Egyptian gold," was from his midriff downwards not man but marble! Who is not shocked at the behaviour of the Three Ladies of Baghdad! In what fearful peril the caliph and the Kalendars placed themselves when, in spite of warning, they would ask questions! How delightful are the verses of the Nights, whether they have or have not any bearing upon the text! Says the third Kalendar, apropos of nothing:

"How many a weal trips on the heels of ill Causing the mourner's heart with joy to thrill."

What an imbecile of imbeciles was this same Kalendar when he found himself in the palace with the forty damsels, "All bright as moons to wait upon him!" It is true, he at first appreciated his snug quarters, for he cried, "Hereupon such gladness possessed me that I forgot the sorrows of the world one and all, and said, 'This is indeed life!'" Then the ninny must needs go and open that fatal fortieth door! The story of Nur al-Din Ali and his son Badr al-Din Hasan has the distinction of being the most rollicking and the most humorous in the Nights. What stupendous events result from a tiff! The lines repeated by Nur al-Din Ali when he angrily quitted his brother must have appealed forcibly to Burton:

Travel! and thou shalt find new friends for old ones left behind; toil! for the sweets of human life by toil and moil are found; The stay at home no honour wins nor ought attains but want; so leave thy place of birth and wander all the world around. [441]

As long as time lasts the pretty coquettish bride will keep on changing her charming dresses; and the sultan's groom (poor man! and for nothing at all) will be kept standing on his head. The moribund Nur al-Din turns Polonius and delivers himself of sententious precepts. "Security," he tells his son, "lieth in seclusion of thought and a certain retirement from the society of thy fellows.... In this world there is none thou mayst count upon... so live for thyself, nursing hope of none. Let thine own faults distract thine attention from the faults of other men. [442] Be cautious, kind, charitable, sober, and economical." Then the good old man's life "went forth." This son, when, soon after, confronted with misfortune, gives utterance to one of the finest thoughts in the whole work:

"It is strange men should dwell in the house of abjection, when the plain of God's earth is so wide and great." [443]

But there is another verse in the same tale that is also well worth remembering—we mean the one uttered by Badr al-Din Hasan (turned tart merchant) when struck by a stone thrown by his son.

Unjust it were to bid the world be just; and blame her not: She ne'er was made for justice: Take what she gives thee, leave all griefs aside, for now to fair and Then to foul her lust is. [444]

We need do no more than mention the world-famous stories of the unfortunate Hunchback and the pragmatical but charitable Barber. Very lovely is the tale of Nur al-Din and the Damsel Anis al Jalis [445] better known as "Noureddin and the Beautiful Persian." How tender is the scene when they enter the Sultan's garden! "Then they fared forth at once from the city, and Allah spread over them His veil of protection, so that they reached the river bank, where they found a vessel ready for sea." Arrived at Baghdad they enter a garden which turns out to be the Sultan's. "By Allah," quoth Nur al-Din to the damsel, "right pleasant is this place." And she replied, "O my lord, sit with me awhile on this bench, and let us take our ease. So they mounted and sat them down... and the breeze blew cool on them, and they fell asleep, and glory be to Him who never sleepeth." Little need to enquire what it is that entwines The Arabian Nights round our hearts.

When calamity over took Nur al-Din he mused on the folly of heaping up riches:

"Kisra and Caesars in a bygone day stored wealth; where is it, and ah! where are they?" [446]

But all came right in the end, for "Allah's aid is ever near at hand." The tale of Ghanim bin Ayyub also ends happily. Then follows the interminable history of the lecherous and bellicose King Omar. Very striking is its opening episode—the meeting of Prince Sharrkan with the lovely Abrizah. "Though a lady like the moon at fullest, with ringleted hair and forehead sheeny white, and eyes wondrous wide and black and bright, and temple locks like the scorpion's tail," she was a mighty wrestler, and threw her admirer three times. The tender episode of the adventures of the two forlorn royal children in Jerusalem is unforgettable; while the inner story of Aziz and Azizah, with the touching account of Azizah's death, takes perhaps the highest place in the Nights. The tale of King Omar, however, has too much fighting, just as that of Ali bin Bakkar and Shams al Nahar, the amourist martyrs, as Burton calls them, has too much philandering. Then comes the Tale of Kamar al Zaman I—about the Prince and the Princess whose beauty set the fairy and the jinni disputing. How winning were the two wives of Kamar al Zaman in their youth; how revolting after! The interpolated tale of Ni'amah and Naomi is tender and pretty, and as the Arabs say, sweet as bees' honey. [447] All of us as we go through life occasionally blunder like Ni'amah into the wrong room—knowing not what is written for us "in the Secret Purpose." The most interesting feature of the "leprosy tale" of Ala-al-Din is the clairvoyance exhibited by Zubaydah, who perceived that even so large a sum as ten thousand dinars would be forthcoming—a feature which links it with the concluding story of the Nights—that of Ma'aruf the cobbler; while the important part that the disguised Caliph Haroun Al-Rashid, Ja'afar and Masrur play in it reminds us of the story of the Three Ladies of Baghdad. On this occasion, however, there was a fourth masker, that hoary sinner and cynical humorist the poet Abu Nowas.

One of the most curious features of the Nights is the promptitude with which everyone—porters, fishermen, ladies, caliphs—recites poetry. It is as if a cabman when you have paid him your fare were to give you a quatrain from FitzGerald's rendering of Omar Khayyam, or a cripple when soliciting your charity should quote Swinburne's Atalanta. Then in the midst of all this culture, kindliness, generosity, kingliness, honest mirth,—just as we are beginning to honour and love the great caliph, we come upon a tale [448] with the staggering commencement "When Harun al Rashid crucified Ja'afar;" and if we try to comfort ourselves with the reflection that we are reading only Fiction, History comes forward and tells us bluntly that it is naked truth. Passing from this story, which casts so lurid a light over the Nights, we come to Abu Mohammed, Lazybones, the Arab Dick Whittington, whose adventures are succeeded by those of Ali Shar, a young man who, with nothing at all, purchases a beautiful slave girl—Zumurrud. When, after a time, he loses her, he loses also his senses, and runs about crying:

"The sweets of life are only for the mad."

By and by Zumurrud becomes a queen, and the lovers are re-united. She is still very beautiful, very sweet, very pious, very tender, and she flays three men alive.

We need do no more than allude to "The Man of Al Yaman and his six Slave Girls," "The Ebony Horse," and "Uns al Wujud and Rose in Hood."

The tale of the blue-stocking Tawaddud [449] is followed by a number of storyettes, some of which are among the sweetest in the Nights. "The Blacksmith who could handle Fire without Hurt," "The Moslem Champion," with its beautiful thoughts on prayer, and "Abu Hasn and the Leper" are all of them fragrant as musk. Then comes "The Queen of the Serpents" with the history of Janshah, famous on account of the wonderful Split Men—the creatures already referred to in this work, who used to separate longitudinally. The Sindbad cycle is followed by the melancholy "City of Brass," and a great collection of anecdotes illustrative of the craft and malice of woman.

In "The Story of Judar" [450] we find by the side of a character of angelic goodness characters of fiendish malevolence—Judar's brothers—a feature that links it with the stories of Abdullah bin Fazil [451] and Abu Sir and Abu Kir. [452] Very striking is the account of the Mahrabis whom Judar pushed into the lake, and who appeared with the soles of their feet above the water and none can forget the sights which the necromancy of the third Maghrabi put before the eyes of Judar. "Oh, Judar, fear not," said the Moor, "for they are semblances without life." The long and bloody romance of Gharib and Ajib is followed by thirteen storyettes, all apparently historical, and then comes the detective work of "The Rogueries of Dalilah," and 'the Adventures of Mercury Ali." If "The Tale of Ardashir" is wearisome, that of "Julnar the Sea Born and her son King Badr," which like "Abdullah of the Land, and Abdullah of the Sea," [453] concerns mer-folk, amply atones for it. This, too, is the tale of the Arabian Circe, Queen Lab, who turns people into animals. In "Sayf al Muluk," we make the acquaintance of that very singular jinni whose soul is outside his body, and meet again with Sindbad's facetious acquaintance, "The Old Man of the Sea."

"Hasan of Bassorah" is woven as it were out of the strands of the rainbow. Burton is here at his happiest as a translator, and the beautiful words that he uses comport with the tale and glitter like jewels. It was a favourite with him. He says, "The hero, with his hen-like persistency of purpose, his weeping, fainting, and versifying, is interesting enough, and proves that 'Love can find out the way.' The charming adopted sister, the model of what the feminine friend should be; the silly little wife who never knows that she is happy till she loses happiness, the violent and hard-hearted queen with all the cruelty of a good woman; and the manners and customs of Amazon-land are outlined with a life-like vivacity."

Then follow the stories of Kalifah, Ali Nur al Din and Miriam the Girdle Girl [454]; the tales grouped together under the title of "King Jalead of Hind;" and Abu Kir and Abu Sir, memorable on account of the black ingratitude of the villain.

"Kamar al Zaman II." begins with the disagreeable incident of the Jeweller's Wife—"The Arab Lady Godiva of the Wrong Sort"—and the wicked plot which she contrived in concert with the depraved Kamar al Zaman. However, the storyteller enlists the reader's sympathies for the Jeweller, who in the end gains a wife quite as devoted to him as his first wife had been false. The unfaithful wife gets a reward which from an Arab point of view precisely meets the case. Somebody "pressed hard upon her windpipe and brake her neck." "So," concludes the narrator, "he who deemeth all women alike there is no remedy for the disease of his insanity." There is much sly humour in the tale, as for example when we are told that even the cats and dogs were comforted when "Lady Godiva" ceased to make her rounds. "Abdullah bin Fazil" is simply "The Eldest Lady's Tale" with the sexes changed.

The last tale in the Nights, and perhaps the finest of all, is that of "Ma'aruf the Cobbler." [455] Ma'aruf, who lived at Cairo, had a shrewish wife named Fatimah who beat him, and hauled him before the Kazi because he had not been able to bring her "kunafah sweetened with bees' honey." So he fled from her, and a good-natured Marid transported him to a distant city. Here he encounters an old playfellow who lends him money and recommends him to play the wealthy merchant, by declaring that his baggage is on the road. This he does with a thoroughness that alarms his friend. He borrows money right and left and lavishes it upon beggars. He promises to pay his creditors twice over when his baggage comes. By and by the king—a very covetous man—hears of Ma'aruf's amazing generosity, and desirous himself of getting a share of the baggage, places his treasury at Ma'aruf's disposal, and weds him to his daughter Dunya. Ma'arfu soon empties the treasury, and the Wazir, who dislikes Ma'aruf, suspects the truth. Ma'aruf, however, confesses everything to Dunya. She comes to his rescue, and her clairvoyance enables her to see his future prosperity. Having fled from the king, Ma'aruf discovers a magic "souterrain" and a talismanic seal ring, by the aid of which he attains incalculable wealth. Exclaims his friend the merchant when Ma'aruf returns as a magnifico, "Thou hast played off this trick and it hath prospered to thy hand, O Shaykh of Imposters! But thou deservest it." Ma'aruf ultimately succeeds to the throne. Then occurs the death of the beautiful and tender Dunya—an event that is recorded with simplicity and infinite pathos. The old harridan Fatimah next obtrudes, and, exhibiting again her devilish propensities, receives her quietus by being very properly "smitten on the neck." So ends this fine story, and then comes the conclusion of the whole work. This is very touching, especially where the story-telling queen, who assumes that death is to be her portion, wants to bid adieu to the children whom she had borne to the king. But, as the dullest reader must have divined, the king had long before "pardoned" her in his heart, and all ends pleasantly with the marriage of her sister Dunyazad to the king's brother.

What an array of figures—beautiful, revolting, sly, fatuous, witty, brave, pusillanimous, mean, generous—meets the eye as we recall one by one these famous stories; beautiful and amorous, but mercurial ladies with henna scented feet and black eyes—often with a suspicion of kohl and more than a suspicion of Abu Murreh [456] in them—peeping cautiously through the close jalousies of some lattice; love sick princes overcoming all obstacles; executioners with blood-dripping scimitars; princesses of blinding beauty and pensive tenderness, who playfully knock out the "jaw-teeth" of their eunuchs while "the thousand-voiced bird in the coppice sings clear;" [457] hideous genii, whether of the amiable or the vindictive sort, making their appearance in unexpected moments; pious beasts—nay, the very hills—praising Allah and glorifying his vice-gerent; gullible saints, gifted scoundrels; learned men with camel loads of dictionaries and classics, thieves with camel loads of plunder; warriors, zanies, necromancers, masculine women, feminine men, ghouls, lutists, negroes, court poets, wags—the central figure being the gorgeous, but truculent, Haroun Al Rashid, who is generally accompanied by Ja'afer and Masrur, and sometimes by the abandoned but irresistible Abu Nowas. What magnificent trencher-folk they all are! Even the love-lorn damsels. If you ask for a snack between meals they send in a trifle of 1,500 dishes. [458] Diamonds and amethysts are plentiful as blackberries. If you are a poet, and you make good verses, it is likely enough that some queen will stuff your mouth with balass rubies. How poorly our modern means of locomotion compare with those of the Nights. If you take a jinni or a swan-maiden you can go from Cairo to Bokhara in less time than our best expresses could cover a mile. The recent battles between the Russians and the Japanese are mere skirmishes compared with the fight described in "The City of Brass"—where 700 million are engaged. The people who fare worst in The Arabian Nights are those who pry into what does not concern them or what is forbidden, as, for example, that foolish, fatuous Third Kalendar, and the equally foolish and fatuous Man who Never Laughed Again; [459] and perhaps The Edinburgh Review was right in giving as the moral of the tales: "Nothing is impossible to him who loves, provided"—and the proviso is of crucial importance—"he is not cursed with a spirit of curiosity." Few persons care, however, whether there is any moral or not—most of us would as soon look for one in the outstretched pride of a peacock's tale.

Where the dust of Shahrazad is kept tradition does not tell us. If we knew we would hasten to her tomb, and in imitation of the lover of Azizeh [460] lay thereon seven blood-red anemones.



Chapter XXVIII. The Two Translations Compared



134. The Blacksmith Who, etc.

Having glanced through the Nights, let us now compare the two famous translations. As we have already mentioned, Burton in his Translator's Foreword did not do Mr. Payne complete justice, but he pays so many compliments to Mr. Payne's translation elsewhere that no one can suppose that he desired to underrate the work of his friend. In the Foreword he says that Mr. Payne "succeeds admirably in the most difficult passages and often hits upon choice and special terms and the exact vernacular equivalent of the foreign word so happily and so picturesquely that all future translators must perforce use the same expression under pain of falling far short." Still this does not go far enough, seeing that, as we said before, he made his translation very largely a paraphrase of Payne's. Consequently he was able to get done in two broken years (April 1884 to April 1886) and with several other books in hand, work that had occupied Mr. Payne six years (1876-1882). Let us now take Mr. Payne's rendering and Burton's rendering of two short tales and put them in juxtaposition. The Blacksmith who could handle Fire without Hurt and Abu Al Hasan and Abu Ja'afar the Leper will suit our purpose admirably.

The portion taken by Burton from Payne are in italics.

Payne Burton Vol. V. p. 25 Vol. V. p. 271 (Lib. Ed., vol. iv., p. 220)

THE BLACKSMITH WHO THE BLACKSMITH WHO COULD HANDLE FIRE COULD HANDLE FIRE WITHOUT HURT WITHOUT HURT

A certain pious man It reached the ears of once heard that there a certain pious man that abode in such a town a there abode in such a town blacksmith who could a blacksmith who could put his hand into the fire put his hand into the fire and pull out the red-hot and pull out the iron red-hot, iron, without its doing without the flames him any hurt. So he set doing him aught of hurt. out for the town in question So he set out for the town in and enquiring for the question and asked for blacksmith, watched him the blacksmith; and when at work and saw him do the man was shown to as had been reported to him; he watched him at him. He waited till he work and saw him do as had made an end of his had been reported to him. day's work, then going He waited till he had made up to him, saluted him an end of his day's work; and said to him, "I then, going up to him, would fain be thy guest saluted him with the salam this night." "With all and said, "I would be thy my heart," replied the guest this night." Replied smith, and carried him to the smith, "With gladness his house, where they and goodly gree!" and supped together and lay carried him to his place, down to sleep. The guest where they supped together watched his host, but and lay down to sleep. found no sign of [special] The guest watched but saw devoutness in him and no sign in his host of praying said to himself. "Belike through the night or he concealeth himself from of special devoutness, and me." So he lodged with said in his mind, "Haply him a second and a third he hideth himself from night, but found that he me." So he lodged with did no more than observe him a second and a third the ordinary letter of the night, but found that he law and rose but little did not exceed the devotions in the night [to pray]. At prescribed by the last he said to him, "O law and custom of the my brother, I have heard Prophet and rose but little of the gift with which in the dark hours to pray. God hath favoured thee At last he said to him, "O and have seen the truth of my brother, I have heard it with mine eyes. Moreover, of the gift with which I have taken note of Allah hath favoured thee, thine assiduity [in and have seen the truth of religious exercises], but it with mine eyes. Moreover, find in thee no special I have taken note fervour of piety, such as of thine assiduity in distinguisheth those in religious exercises, but find whom such miraculous in thee no such piety as gifts are manifest. distinguished those who work "Whence, then, cometh saintly miracles; whence, this to thee?" "I will then cometh this to thee?" tell thee," answered the "I will tell thee," smith. answered the smith.

"Know that I was once "Know that I was once passionately enamoured of passionately enamoured a certain damsel and of a slave girl and oft-times required her many a time sued her for loveliesse, of love, but could not but could not prevail prevail upon her, for upon her, because she that she still clave fast still held fast by her unto chastity. Presently chastity. Presently there there came a year of came a year of drought and drought and hunger and hunger and hardship, food hardship; food failed and failed, and there befell a there befell a sore famine sore famine. As I was in the land. I was sitting sitting one day at home, one day in my house, somebody knocked at the when one knocked at the door; so I went out, and, door; so I went out and behold, she was standing found her standing there; there; and she said to and she said to me, 'O me, 'O my brother, I am my brother, I am stricken sorely an hungered and I with excessive hunger, and lift mine eyes to thee, I lift mine eyes to thee, beseeching thee to feed me, beseeching thee to feed for Allah's sake!' Quoth me for God's sake!' I, 'Wottest thou not how Quoth I, 'Dost thou not I love thee and what I have know how I love thee suffered for thy sake? Now and what I have suffered I will not give thee one for thy sake! I will give bittock of bread except thee no whit of food, thou yield thy person except thou yield thyself to me.' Quoth she, to me.' But she said, 'Death, but not 'Better death than disobedience to the Lord!' disobedience to God.' Then Then she went away and she went away and returned after two days with returned after two days the same prayer for food with the same petition as before. I made her a for food. I made her a like like answer, and she answer, and she entered entered and sat down in my and sat down, being nigh house, being nigh upon upon death. I set food death. I set food before before her, whereupon her her, whereupon her eyes eyes ran over with tears, brimmed with tears, and and she said, 'Give me she cried, 'Give me meat to eat for the love of God, for the love of Allah, to to whom belong might whom belong Honour and and majesty!' 'Not so, Glory!' But I answered by Allah,' answered I, 'Not so, by Allah, except 'except thou yield thyself thou yield thyself to me.' to me.' Quoth she, Quoth she, 'Better is 'Better is death to me death to me than the wrath than the wrath of God and wreak of Allah the the Most High.' And Most Highest; and she she left the food rose and left the food untouched untouched [461] and went away [461] and went away repeating the following repeating these couplets: verses:

O, Thou, the only God, whose O, Thou, the One, whose grace grace embraceth all that be, doth all the world embrace; Thine ears have heard my Thine ears have heard, Thine moan, Thine eyes have seen eyes have seen my case! my misery;

Indeed, privation and distress Privation and distress have dealt are heavy on my head; I me heavy blows; the woes cannot tell of all the woes that weary me no utterance that do beleaguer me. can trace.

I'm like a man athirst, that I am like one athirst who eyes looks upon a running stream, the landscape's eye, yet may yet may not drink a single not drink a draught of draught of all that he doth streams that rail and race. see.

My flesh would have me buy its My flesh would tempt me by the will, alack, its pleasures sight of savoury food whose flee! The sin that pays their joys shall pass away and price abides to all eternity. pangs maintain their place.

[The girl, "worn out with want," came a third time, and met with the same answer. But then remorse seized upon the blacksmith and he bade her, "eat, and fear not."]

"When she heard this "Then she raised her eyes she raised her eyes to to heaven and said, heaven and said,

"'O my God, if this "'O my God, if this man man be sincere, I pray say sooth, I pray thee Thee forbid fire to do forbid fire to harm him him hurt in this world in this world and the and the next, for Thou art next, for Thou over all He that answereth prayer things art Omnipotent and and art powerful to do Prevalent in answering the whatsoever Thou wilt!' prayer of the penitent!'

"Then I left her and Then I left her and went went to put out the fire to put out the fire in in the brasier. Now the the brazier. Now the time was the winter-cold, season was winter and the and a hot coal fell on weather cold, and a live my body; but by the coal fell on my body, but ordinance of God (to by the decree of Allah (to whom belong might and whom be Honour and majesty), I felt no pain Glory!) I felt no pain, and and it was born in upon it became my conviction me that her prayer had that her prayer had been been answered." answered."

[The girl then praised God, who "straightway took her soul to Him." The story finishes with some verses which are rendered by Payne and Burton each according to his wont.]



135. Abu al-Hasan.

We will next take "Abu al-Hasan and Abu Ja'afar the Leper."

Payne Burton V. 49 V. 294 (Lib. Ed., iv., 242)

ABOULHUSN ED DURRAJ ABU AL-HASAN AND ABOU JAAFER THE AND LEPER ABU JA'AFAR THE LEPER

Quoth Aboulhusn ed I had been many times Durraj, I had been many to Mecca (Allah increase times to Mecca (which its honour!) and the folk God increase in honour) used to follow me for my and the folk used to follow knowledge of the road and me by reason of my knowledge remembrance of the water of the road and stations. It happened one the watering-places. It year that I was minded to chanced one year that I make the pilgrimage to was minded to make the the Holy House and visitation pilgrimage to the Holy of the tomb of His House of God and visit the Prophet (on whom be tomb of His prophet (on blessing and the Peace!) whom be peace and blessing), and I said in myself. "I and I said to myself, well know the way and "I know the road and will will fare alone." So I go alone." So I set out set out and journeyed till I and journeyed till I came came to Al-Kadisiyah, and to El Cadesiyeh, and entering entering the Mosque there, the Mosque there, saw saw a man suffering from a leper seated in the black leprosy seated in prayer-niche. When he the prayer-niche. Quoth he saw me, he said to me, on seeing me, "O Abu "O Aboulhusn, I crave al-Hasan, I crave thy company thy company to Mecca." to Meccah." Quoth I Quoth I to myself, "I to myself, "I fled from all wished to avoid companions, my companions and how and how shall I shall I company with lepers." company with lepers?" So I said to him, "I will So I said to him, "I will bear no man company," bear no one company," and he was silent at my and he was silent. words.

Next day I continued Next day I walked on my journey alone, till I alone, till I came to came to Acabeh, where Al-Akabah, where I entered I entered the Mosque and the mosque and found the was amazed to find the leper seated in the prayer leper seated in the prayer- niche. So I said to myself, niche. "Glory be to God," "Glory be to Allah! said I in myself. "How how hath this fellow preceded hath this fellow foregone me hither." But me hither?" But he he raised his head to me raised his eyes to me and said with a smile, "O and said, smiling, "O, Abu al-Hasan, He doth Aboulhusn, He doth for for the weak that which the weak that which the surpriseth the strong!" strong wonder at." I I passed that night confounded passed that night in at what I had perplexity, confounded at seen; and, as soon as what I had seen, and in morning dawned, set out the morning set out again again by myself; but by myself; but when I when I came to Arafat came to Arafat and entered and entered the mosque, the mosque, behold, behold! there was the leper there was the leper seated seated in the niche. So I in the niche! So I threw threw myself upon him myself upon him and kissing and kissing his feet said, his feet, said, "O my "O my lord, I crave thy lord, I crave thy company." company." But he answered, But he said, "This may in no "This may nowise be." way be." Then I began Whereupon I fell a-weeping weeping and wailing at and lamenting, and the loss of his company he said: "Peace: weeping when he said, "Spare thy will avail thee nothing," tears, which will avail thee And he recited the naught!" and he recited following verses: these couplets:

For my estrangement dost thou Why dost thou weep when I weep,—whereas it came depart and thou didst parting from thee,—And restoration claim; and cravest union dost implore, when none, when we ne'er shall re-unite alas! may be? the same?

Thou sawst my weakness and Thou lookedest on nothing save disease, as it appeared, and my weakness and disease; saidst, "He goes, nor comes, and saidst, "Nor goes, nor or night, or day, for this his comes, or night, or day, this malady." sickly frame."

Seest not that God (exalted be Seest not how Allah (glorified His glory) to His slave His glory ever be!) deigneth vouchsafeth all he can conceive to grant His slave's petition of favour fair and free! wherewithal he came.

If I, to outward vision, be as If I, to eyes of men be that and it appears and eke in body, for only that they see, and this despite of fate, e'en that my body show itself so full which thou dost see. of grief and grame.

And eke no victual though I And I have nought of food that have, unto the holy place shall supply me to the place where crowds unto my Lord where crowds unto my Lord resort, indeed, to carry me. resort impelled by single aim.

I have a Maker, hidden are His I have a high Creating Lord bounties unto me; yea, whose mercies aye are hid; there's no parting me from a Lord who hath none equal Him, and without peer is He. and no fear is known to Him.

Depart from me in peace and So fare thee safe and leave me leave me and my strangerhood; lone in strangerhood to wone. For with the lonely For He the only One, consoles exile still the One shall my loneliness so lone. company.

So I left him and continued Accordingly I left him, my journey; and but every station I came every stage I came to, I to, I found he had foregone found him before me, till me, till I reached Al-Madinah, I came to Medina, where where I lost sight I lost sight of him and of him, and could hear could hear no news of no tidings of him. Here him. Here I met Abou I met Abu Yazid Yezid el Bustani and Abou al-Bustami and Abu Bakr Beker es Shibli and a al-Shibli and a number of number of other doctors, other Shaykhs and learned to whom I told my case, men to whom with many and they said, "God complaints I told my case, forbid that thou shouldst and they said, "Heaven gain his company after forbid that thou shouldst this! This was Abou gain his company after Jaafer the leper, in whose this! He was Abu Ja'afar name, at all tides, the folk the leper, in whose name pray for rain, and by whose folk at all times pray for blessings prayers are answered." rain and by whose blessing When I heard prayers their end attain." this, my longing for his When I heard their words, company redoubled and my desire for his company I implored God to reunite redoubled and I implored me with him. Whilst I the Almighty to reunite me was standing on Arafat, with him. Whilst I was one plucked me from behind, standing on Arafat one so I turned and pulled me from behind, so behold, it was Abou Jaafer. I turned and behold, it At this sight I gave a loud was my man. At this cry and fell down in a sight I cried out with a swoon; but when I came loud cry and fell down in to myself, he was gone. a fainting fit; but when I came to myself he had disappeared from my sight.

This increased my yearning This increased my yearning for him and the ways for him and the were straitened upon ceremonies were tedious to me and I prayed God to me, and I prayed Almighty give me sight of him; Allah to give me sight of nor was it but a few days him; nor was it but a few after when one pulled me days after, when lo! one from behind, and I turned, pulled me from behind, and behold, it was he and I turned and it was again. Quoth he, "I conjure he again. Thereupon he thee, ask thy desire said, "Come, I conjure of me." So I begged him thee, and ask thy want of to pray three prayers to me." So I begged him to God for me; first, that pray for me three prayers: He would make me love first, that Allah would make poverty; secondly, that I me love poverty; secondly, might never lie down to that I might never lie down sleep upon known provision, at night upon provision and thirdly, that assured to me; and He, the Bountiful One, thirdly, that he would would vouchsafe me to vouchsafe me to look upon look upon His face. So he His bountiful face. So prayed for me, as I wished, he prayed for me as I and departed from me. wished, and departed from And, indeed, God hath me. And indeed Allah granted me the first two hath granted me what the prayers; for He hath devotee asked in prayer; made me in love with to begin with he hath made poverty, so that, by Allah, me so love poverty that, by there is nought in the the Almighty! there is world dearer to me than nought in the world dearer it, and since such a year, to me than it, and secondly I have never lain down since such a year I have upon assured provision; never lain down to sleep yet hath He never let me upon assured provision, lack of aught. As for the withal hath He never let third prayer, I trust that me lack aught. As for the He will vouchsafe me that third prayer, I trust that also, even as He hath he will vouchsafe me that granted the two others, also, even as He hath for He is bountiful and granted the two precedent, excellently beneficient. And for right Bountiful and may God have mercy on Beneficient is His Godhead, him who saith: and Allah have mercy on him who said;

Renouncement, lowliness, the Garb of Fakir, renouncement, fakir's garments be; In lowliness; patched and tattered clothes His robe of tatters and of rags still fares the devotee. his dress;

Pallor adorneth him, as on their And pallor ornamenting brow latest nights, The moons as though with pallor still embellished 'Twere wanness such as waning thou mayst see. crescents show.

Long rising up by night to pray Wasted him prayer a-through hath wasted him; And from the long-lived night, his lids the tears stream down. And flooding tears ne'er cease as 'twere a sea. to dim his sight.

The thought of God to him his Memory of Him shall cheer his very housemate is; For lonely room; bosom friend by night, th' Th' Almighty nearest is in Omnipotent hath he. nightly gloom.

God the Protector helps the fakir The Refuge helpeth such Fakir in his need; And birds and in need; beasts no less to succour him Help e'en the cattle and the agree. winged breed;

On his account, the wrath of Allah for sake of him of wrath God on men descends, And is fain, by his grace, the rains fall And for the grace of him shall down on wood and lea. fall the rain;

And if he pray one day to do And if he pray one day for plague away a plague, The oppressor's to stay, slain and men from 'Twill stay, and 'bate man's tyrants are made free; wrong and tyrants slay.

For all the folk are sick, While folk are sad, afflicted one afflicted and diseased, And he's and each, the pitying leach withouten He in his mercy's rich, the stint or fee. generous leach;

His forehead shines; an thou Bright shines his brow; an thou but look upon his face, Thy regard his face heart is calmed, the lights of Thy heart illumined shines by heaven appear to thee. light of grace.

O thou that shunnest these, their O thou that shunnest souls of virtues knowing not, Woe's worth innate, thee! Thou'rt shut from Departs thee (woe to thee!) of them by thine iniquity. sins the weight.

Thou think'st them to o'ertake, Thou thinkest to overtake them, for all thou'rt fettered fast; while thou bearest Thy sins from thy desire Follies, which slay thee whatso do hinder thee, perdie. way thou farest.

Thou wouldst to them consent Didst not their worth thou hadst and rivers from thine eyes all honour showed Would run from them, if thou And tears in streamlets from their excellence could'st see. thine eyes had flowed.

Uneath to him to smell, who's To catarrh-troubled men flowers troubled with a rheum, Are lack their smell; flowers; the broker knows And brokers ken for how much what worth the garments be. clothes can sell;

So supplicate thy Lord right So haste and with thy Lord humbly for His grace And re-union sue, Providence, belike, shall And haply fate shall lend thee help thy constancy; aidance due.

And thou shalt win thy will and Rest from rejection and from estrangement's stress estrangement stress, And eke rejection's pains And joy thy wish and will shall shall be at rest and free. choicely bless.

The asylum of His grace is wide His court wide open for the enough for all That seek; The suer is dight:— one true God, the One, very God, the Lord, th' Conqueror, is He! Almighty might.

We may also compare the two renderings of that exquisite and tender little poem "Azizeh's Tomb" [462] which will be found in the "Tale of Aziz and Azizeh."

Payne Burton

I passed by a ruined tomb in the I past by a broken tomb amid midst of a garden way, Upon a garth right sheen, Whereon whose letterless stone seven on seven blooms of Nu'aman blood-red anemones lay. glowed with cramoisie.

"Who sleeps in this unmarked Quoth I, "Who sleepeth in this grave?" I said, and the tomb?" Quoth answering earth, "Bend low; For a earth, "Before a lover lover lies here and waits for Hades-tombed bend reverently." the Resurrection Day."

"God keep thee, O victim of Quoth I, "May Allah help thee, love!" I cried, "and bring O thou slain of love, And thee to dwell In the highest grant thee home in heaven of all the heavens of Paradise, and Paradise-height to see! I pray!

"How wretched are lovers all, "Hapless are lovers all e'en even in the sepulchre, tombed in their tombs, For their very tombs are Where amid living folk the covered with ruin and decay! dust weighs heavily!

"Lo! if I might, I would plant "Fain would I plant a garden thee a garden round about, blooming round thy grave and with my streaming tears And water every flower with the thirst of its flowers tear-drops flowing allay!" free!" [463]