W. A. Clouston - Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers

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"The smiling Garden of Persian Literature": a Garden which I
would describe, in the Eastern style, as a happy spot, where
lavish Nature with profusion strews the most fragrant and
blooming flowers, where the most delicious fruits abound, which
is ever vocal with the plaintive melancholy of the nightingale,
who, during day and night, "tunes her love-laboured song": ...
where the voice of Wisdom is often heard uttering her moral
sentence, or delivering the dictates of experience.--SIR W. OUSELEY.

FLOWERS FROM A PERSIAN GARDEN,

AND

OTHER PAPERS.

BY W. A. CLOUSTON,

AUTHOR OF 'POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS' AND 'BOOK OF NOODLES'; EDITOR OF
'A GROUP OF EASTERN ROMANCES AND STORIES,' 'BOOK OF SINDIBAD,' 'BAKHTYAR
NAMA,' 'ARABIAN POETRY FOR ENGLISH READERS,' ETC.

LONDON:
DAVID NUTT, 270, 271, STRAND.
MDCCCXC.

TO E. SIDNEY HARTLAND, ESQ.,

FELLOW OF THE SOCIETY OF ANTIQUARIES; MEMBER OF THE COUNCIL OF THE
FOLK-LORE SOCIETY, ETC.

MY DEAR HARTLAND,

Though you are burdened with the duties of a profession far outside of
which lie those studies that have largely occupied my attention for many
years past, yet your own able contributions to the same, or cognate,
subjects of investigation evince the truth of the seemingly paradoxical
saying, that "the busiest man finds the greatest amount of leisure." And
in dedicating this little book to you--would that it were more
worthy!--as a token of gratitude for the valuable help you have often
rendered me in the course of my studies, I am glad of the opportunity it
affords me for placing on record (so to say) the fact that I enjoy the
friendship of a man possessed of so many excellent qualities of heart as
well as of intellect.

The following collection of essays, or papers, is designed to suit the
tastes of a more numerous class of readers than were some of my former
books, which are not likely to be of special interest to many besides
students of comparative folk-lore--amongst whom your own degree is high.
The book, in fact, is intended mainly for those who are rather vaguely
termed "general readers"; albeit I venture to think that even the
folk-lore student may find in it somewhat to "make a note of," as the
great Captain Cuttle was wont to say--in season and out of season.

Leaving the contents to speak for themselves, I shall only say farther
that my object has been to bring together, in a handy volume, a series
of essays which might prove acceptable to many readers, whether of grave
or lively temperament. What are called "instructive" books--meaning
thereby "morally" instructive--are generally as dull reading as is
proverbially a book containing nothing but jests--good, bad, and
indifferent. We can't (and we shouldn't) be always in the "serious"
mood, nor can we be for ever on the grin; and it seems to me that a
mental dietary, by turns, of what is wise and of what is witty should be
most wholesome. But, of the two, I confess I prefer to take the former,
even as one ought to take solid food, in great moderation; and, after
all, it is surely better to laugh than to mope or weep, in spite of what
has been said of "the loud laugh that speaks the vacant mind." Most of
us, in this work-a-day world, find no small benefit from allowing our
minds to lie fallow at certain times, as farmers do with their fields.
In the following pages, however, I believe wisdom and wit, the didactic
and the diverting, will be found in tolerably fair proportions.

But I had forgot--I am not writing a Preface, and this is already too
long for a Dedication; so believe me, with all good wishes,

Yours ever faithfully,
W. A. CLOUSTON.
GLASGOW, February, 1890.

CONTENTS.

FLOWERS FROM A PERSIAN GARDEN.

I Sketch of the Life of the Persian Poet Saadi--Character of his
Writings--the _Gulistan_, or Rose-Garden--Prefaces to
Books--Preface to the _Gulistan_--Eastern Poets in praise of
Springtide

II Boy's Archery Feat--Advantages of Abstinence--Nushirvan on
Oppression--Boy in terror at Sea--Pride of Ancestry--Misfortunes
of Friends--Fortitude and Liberality--Prodigality--Stupid
Youth--Advantages of Education--The Fair Cup-bearer--'January and
May'--Why an Old Man did not Marry--The Dervish who became
King--Muezzin and Preacher who had bad voices--Witty Slave--Witty
Kazi--Astrologer and his Faithless Wife--Objectionable Neighbour

III On Taciturnity: Parallels from Caxton's _Dictes_ and preface to
_Kalila wa Dimna_--Difference between Devotee and Learned Man--To
get rid of Troublesome Visitors--Fable of the Nightingale and the
Ant--Aphorisms of Saadi--Conclusion

ORIENTAL WIT AND HUMOUR.

I Man a Laughing Animal--Antiquity of Popular Jests--'Night and
Day'--The Plain-featured Bride--The House of Condolence--The
Blind Man's Wife--Two Witty Persian Ladies--Woman's Counsel--The
Turkish Jester: in the Pulpit; the Cauldron; the Beggar; the
Drunken Governor; the Robber; the Hot Broth--Muslim Preachers and
Misers

II The Two Deaf Men and the Traveller--The Deaf Persian and the
Horseman--Lazy Servants--Chinese Humour: The Rich Man and the
Smiths; How to keep Plants alive; Criticising a Portrait--The
Persian Courtier and his old Friend--The Scribe--The Schoolmaster
and the Wit--The Persian and his Cat--A List of Blockheads--The
Arab and his Camel--A Witty Baghdadi--The Unlucky Slippers

III The Young Merchant of Baghdad; or, the Wiles of Woman

IV Ashaab the Covetous--The Stingy Merchant and the Hungry
Bedouin--The Sect of Samradians--The Story-teller and the
King--Royal Gifts to Poets--The Persian Poet and the
Impostor--'Stealing Poetry'--The Rich Man and the Poor Poet

V Unlucky Omens--The Old Man's Prayer--The Old Woman in the
Mosque--The Weeping Turkmans--The Ten Foolish Peasants--The
Wakeful Servant--The Three Dervishes--The Oilman's Parrot--The
Moghul and his Parrot--The Persian Shopkeeper and the Prime
Minister--Hebrew Facetiae

TALES OF A PARROT.

I General Plan of Eastern Story-books--The _Tuti Nama_, or
Parrot-Book--The Frame-story--The Stolen Images--The Woman carved
out of Wood--The Man whose Mare was kicked by a Merchant's Horse

II The Emperor's Dream--The Golden Apparition--The Four
Treasure-seekers

III The Singing Ass: the Foolish Thieves: the Faggot-maker and the
Magic Bowl

IV The Goldsmith who lost his Life through Covetousness--The King
who died of Love for a Merchant's Daughter--The Discovery of
Music--The Seven Requisites of a Perfect Woman

V The Princess of Rome and her Son--The Seven Vazirs

VI The Tree of Life--Legend of Raja Rasalu--Conclusion

_ADDITIONAL NOTE:_
The Magic Bowl, etc.

RABBINICAL LEGENDS, TALES, FABLES, AND APHORISMS.

I INTRODUCTORY: Authors, Traducers, and Moral Teachings of Talmud

II LEGENDS OF SOME BIBLICAL CHARACTERS: Adam and Eve--Cain and
Abel--The Planting of the Vine--Luminous Jewels--Abraham's
Arrival in Egypt--The Infamous Citizens of Sodom--Abraham and
Ishmael's Wives--Joseph and Potiphar's Wife--Joseph and his
Brethren--Jacob's Sorrow--Moses and Pharaoh

III LEGENDS OF DAVID AND SOLOMON, etc.

IV MORAL AND ENTERTAINING TALES: Rabbi Jochonan and the Poor
Woman--A Safe Investment--The Jewels--The Capon-carver

V MORAL TALES, TABLES, AND PARABLES: The Dutiful Son--An Ingenious
Will--Origin of Beast-Fables--The Fox and the Bear--The Fox in
the Garden--The Desolate Island--The Man and his Three
Friends--The Garments--Solomon's Choice--Bride and
Bridegroom--Abraham and the Idols--The Vanity of Ambition--The
Seven Stages of Human Life

VI WISE SAYINGS OF THE RABBIS

_ADDITIONAL NOTES:_
Adam and the Oil of Mercy
Muslim Legend of Adam's Punishment, Pardon, Death, and Burial
Moses and the Poor Woodcutter
Precocious Sagacity of Solomon
Solomon and the Serpent's Prey
The Capon-carver
The Fox and the Bear
The Desolate Island
Other Rabbinical Legends and Tales

AN ARABIAN TALE OF LOVE.

_ADDITIONAL NOTES:_
'Wamik and Asra'
Another Famous Arabian Lover

APOCRYPHAL LIFE OF ESOP.

_ADDITIONAL NOTE:_
Drinking the Sea Dry

IGNORANCE OF THE CLERGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES.

THE BEARDS OF OUR FATHERS.

INDEX.

FLOWERS FROM A PERSIAN GARDEN.

I

SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF THE PERSIAN POET SAADI--CHARACTER OF HIS
WRITINGS--THE "GULISTAN"--PREFACES TO BOOKS--PREFACE TO THE
"GULISTAN"--EASTERN POETS IN PRAISE OF SPRINGTIDE.

It is remarkable how very little the average general reader knows
regarding the great Persian poet Saadi and his writings. His name is
perhaps more or less familiar to casual readers from its being appended
to one or two of his aphorisms which are sometimes reproduced in odd
corners of popular periodicals; but who he was, when he lived, and what
he wrote, are questions which would probably puzzle not a few, even of
those who consider themselves as "well read," to answer without first
recurring to some encyclopaedia. Yet Saadi was assuredly one of the most
gifted men of genius the world has ever known: a man of large and
comprehensive intellect; an original and profound thinker; an acute
observer of men and manners; and his works remain the imperishable
monument of his genius, learning, and industry.

Maslahu 'd-Din Shaykh Saadi was born, towards the close of the twelfth
century, at Shiraz, the famous capital of Fars, concerning which city
the Persians have the saying that "if Muhammed had tasted the pleasures
of Shiraz, he would have begged Allah to make him immortal there." In
accordance with the usual practice in Persia, he assumed as his
_takhallus_, or poetical name,[1] Saadi, from his patron Atabag Saad bin
Zingi, sovereign of Fars, who encouraged men of learning in his
principality. Saadi is said to have lived upwards of a hundred years,
thirty of which were passed in the acquisition of knowledge, thirty more
in travelling through different countries, and the rest of his life he
spent in retirement and acts of devotion. He died, in his native city,
about the year 1291.

[1] One reason, doubtless, for Persian and Turkish poets
adopting a _takhallus_ is the custom of the poet
introducing his name into every ghazal he composes,
generally towards the end; and as his proper name would
seldom or never accommodate itself to purposes of verse
he selects a more suitable one.

At one period of his life Saadi took part in the wars of the Saracens
against the Crusaders in Palestine, and also in the wars for the faith
in India. In the course of his wanderings he had the misfortune to be
taken prisoner by the Franks, in Syria, and was ransomed by a friend,
but only to fall into worse thraldom by marrying a shrewish wife. He has
thus related the circumstances:

"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
fortress of Tripoli. One of the nobles of Aleppo, mine 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, to be confined
in a stall, in company with wretches who deserve not the name of men.
"To be confined by the feet with friends is better than to walk in a
garden with strangers."' He took compassion on my forlorn condition,
ransomed me from the Franks for ten dinars,[2] and took me with him to
Aleppo.

[2] A dinar is a gold coin, worth about ten shillings of our
money.

"My friend had a daughter, to whom he married me, and he presented me
with a 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 hell even in this
world.' Take care how you connect yourself with a bad woman. Save us, O
Lord, from the fiery trial! Once she reproached me, saying: 'Art thou
not the creature whom my father ransomed from captivity amongst the
Franks for ten dinars?' 'Yes,' I answered; 'he redeemed me for ten
dinars, and enslaved me to thee for a hundred.'

"I heard that a man once rescued a sheep from the mouth of a wolf, but
at night drew his knife across its throat. The expiring sheep thus
complained: 'You delivered me from the jaws of a wolf, but in the end I
perceive you have yourself become a wolf to me.'"

Sir Gore Ouseley, in his _Biographical Notices of Persian Poets_, states
that Saadi in the latter part of his life retired to a cell near Shiraz,
where he remained buried in contemplation of the Deity, except when
visited, as was often the case, by princes, nobles, and learned men. It
was the custom of his illustrious visitors to take with them all kinds
of meats, of which, when Saadi and his company had partaken, the shaykh
always put what remained in a basket suspended from his window, that the
poor wood-cutters of Shiraz, who daily passed by his cell, might
occasionally satisfy their hunger.

* * * * *

The writings of Saadi, in prose as well as verse, are numerous; his best
known works being the _Gulistan_, or Rose-Garden, and the _Bustan_, or
Garden of Odours. Among his other compositions are: an essay on Reason
and Love; Advice to Kings; Arabian and Persian idylls, and a book of
elegies, besides a large collection of odes and sonnets. Saadi was an
accomplished linguist, and composed several poems in the languages of
many of the countries through which he travelled. "I have wandered to
various regions of the world," he tells us, "and everywhere have I mixed
freely with the inhabitants. I have gathered something in each corner; I
have gleaned an ear from every harvest." A deep insight into the secret
springs of human actions; an extensive knowledge of mankind; fervent
piety, without a taint of bigotry; a poet's keen appreciation of the
beauties of nature; together with a ready wit and a lively sense of
humour, are among the characteristics of Saadi's masterly compositions.
No writer, ancient or modern, European or Asiatic, has excelled, and few
have equalled, Saadi in that rare faculty for condensing profound moral
truths into short, pithy sentences. For example:

"The remedy against want is to moderate your desires."

"There is a difference between him who claspeth his mistress in his
arms, and him whose eyes are fixed on the door expecting her."

"Whoever recounts to you the faults of your neighbour will doubtless
expose your defects to others."

His humorous comparisons flash upon the reader's mind with curious
effect, occurring, as they often do, in the midst of a grave discourse.
Thus he says of a poor minstrel: "You would say that the sound of his
bow would burst the arteries, and that his voice was more discordant
than the lamentations of a man for the death of his father;" and of
another bad singer: "No one with a mattock can so effectually scrape
clay from the face of a hard stone as his discordant voice harrows up
the soul."

Talking of music reminds me of a remark of the learned Gentius, in one
of his notes on the _Gulistan_ of Saadi, that music was formerly in such
consideration in Persia that it was a maxim of their sages that when a
king was about to die, if he left for his successor a very young son,
his aptitude for reigning should be proved by some agreeable songs; and
if the child was pleasurably affected, then it was a sign of his
capacity and genius, but if the contrary, he should be declared
unfit.--It would appear that the old Persian musicians, like Timotheus,
knew the secret art of swaying the passions. The celebrated philosopher
Al-Farabi (who died about the middle of the tenth century), among his
accomplishments, excelled in music, in proof of which a curious anecdote
is told. Returning from the pilgrimage to Mecca, he introduced himself,
though a stranger, at the court of Sayfu 'd-Dawla, sultan of Syria, when
a party of musicians chanced to be performing, and he joined them. The
prince admired his skill, and, desiring to hear something of his own,
Al-Farabi unfolded a composition, and distributed the parts amongst the
band. The first movement threw the prince and his courtiers into violent
laughter, the next melted all into tears, and the last lulled even the
performers to sleep. At the retaking of Baghdad by the Turks in 1638,
when the springing of a mine, whereby eight hundred jannisaries
perished, was the signal for a general massacre, and thirty thousand
Persians were put to the sword, a Persian musician named Shah-Kuli, who
was brought before the sultan Murad, played and sang so sweetly, first a
song of triumph, and then a dirge, that the sultan, moved to pity by the
music, gave order to stop the slaughter.

To resume, after this anecdotical digression. Saadi gives this whimsical
piece of advice to a pugnacious fellow: "Be sure, either that thou art
stronger than thine enemy, or that thou hast a swifter pair of heels."
And he relates a droll story in illustration of the use and abuse of the
phrase, "For the sake of God," which is so frequently in the mouths of
Muslims: A harsh-voiced man was reading the Kuran in a loud tone. A
pious man passed by him and said: "What is thy monthly salary?" The
other replied: "Nothing." "Why, then, dost thou give thyself this
trouble?" "I read for the sake of God," he rejoined. "Then," said the
pious man, "_for God's sake don't read_."

The most esteemed of Saadi's numerous and diversified works is the
_Gulistan_, or Rose-Garden. The first English translation of this work
was made by Francis Gladwin, and published in 1808, and it is a very
scarce book. Other translations have since been issued, but they are
rather costly and the editions limited. It is strange that in these days
of cheap reprints of rare and excellent works of genius no enterprising
publisher should have thought it worth reproduction in a popular form.
It is not one of those ponderous tomes of useless learning which not
even an Act of Parliament could cause to be generally read, and which no
publisher would be so blind to his own interests as to reprint. As
regards its size, the _Gulistan_ is but a small book, but intrinsically
it is indeed a very great book, such as could only be produced by a
great mind, and it comprises more wisdom and wit than a score of old
English folios could together yield to the most devoted reader. Some
querulous persons there are who affect to consider the present as a
shallow age, because, forsooth, huge volumes of learning--each the
labour of a lifetime--are not now produced. But the flood-gates of
knowledge are now wide open, and, no longer confined within the old,
narrow, if deep, channels, learning has spread abroad, like the Nile
during the season of its over-flow. Shallow, it may be, but more widely
beneficial, since its life-giving waters are within the reach of all.

Unlike most of our learned old English authors, Saadi did not cast upon
the world all that came from the rich mine of his genius, dross as well
as fine gold, clay as well as gems. It is because they have done so that
many ponderous tomes of learning and industry stand neglected on the
shelves of great libraries. Time is too precious now-a-days, whatever
may have been the case of our forefathers, for it to be dissipated by
diving into the muddy waters of voluminous authors in hopes of finding
an occasional pearl of wisdom. And unless some intelligent and
painstaking compiler set himself to the task of separating the gold from
the rubbish in which it is imbedded in those graves of learning, and
present the results of his labour in an attractive form, such works are
virtually lost to the world. For in these high-pressure days, most of
us, "like the dogs in Egypt for fear of the crocodiles, must drink of
the waters of knowledge as we run, in dread of the old enemy Time."

Saadi, however, in his _Gulistan_ sets forth only his well-pondered
thoughts in the most felicitous and expressive language. There is no
need to form an abstract or epitome of a work in which nothing is
superfluous, nothing valueless. But, as in a cabinet of gems some are
more beautiful than others, or as in a garden some flowers are more
attractive from their brilliant hues and fragrant odours, so a selection
may be made of the more striking tales and aphorisms of the illustrious
Persian philosopher.

The preface to the _Gulistan_ is one of the most pleasing portions of
the whole book. Now prefaces are among those parts of books which are
too frequently "skipped" by readers--they are "taken as read." Why this
should be so, I confess I cannot understand. For my part, I make a point
of reading a preface at least twice: first, because I would know what
reasons my author had for writing his book, and again, having read his
book, because the preface, if well written, may serve also as a sort of
appendix. Authors are said to bestow particular pains on their prefaces.
Cervantes, for instance, tells us that the preface to the first part of
_Don Quixote_ cost him more thought than the writing of the entire work.
"It argues a deficiency of taste," says Isaac D'Israeli, "to turn over
an elaborate preface unread; for it is the essence of the author's
roses--every drop distilled at an immense cost." And, no doubt, it is a
great slight to an author to skip his preface, though it cannot be
denied that some prefaces are very tedious, because the writer "spins
out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument,"
and none but the most _hardy_ readers can persevere to the distant end.
The Italians call a preface _salsa del libro_, the _salt_ of the book. A
preface may also be likened to the porch of a mansion, where it is not
courteous to keep a visitor waiting long before you open the door and
make him free of your house. But the reader who passes over the preface
to the _Gulistan_ unread loses not a little of the spice of that
fascinating and instructive book. He who reads it, however, is rewarded
by the charming account which the author gives of how he came to form
his literary Rose-Garden:

"It was the season of spring; the air was temperate and the rose in full
bloom. The vestments of the trees resembled the festive garments of the
fortunate. It was mid-spring, when the nightingales were chanting from
their pulpits in the branches. The rose, decked with pearly dew, like
blushes on the cheek of a chiding mistress. It happened once that I was
benighted in a garden, in company with a friend. The spot was
delightful: the trees intertwined; you would have said that the earth
was bedecked with glass spangles, and that the knot of the Pleiades was
suspended from the branch of the vine. A garden with a running stream,
and trees whence birds were warbling melodious strains: that filled with
tulips of various hues; these loaded with fruits of several kinds. Under
the shade of its trees the zephyr had spread the variegated carpet.

"In the morning, when the desire to return home overcame our inclination
to remain, I saw in my friend's lap a collection of roses, odoriferous
herbs, and hyacinths, which he intended to carry to town. I said: 'You
are not ignorant that the flower of the garden soon fadeth, and that the
enjoyment of the rose-bush is of short continuance; and the sages have
declared that the heart ought not to be set upon anything that is
transitory.' He asked: 'What course is then to be pursued?' I replied:
'I am able to form a book of roses, which will delight the beholders and
gratify those who are present; whose leaves the tyrannic arm of autumnal
blasts can never affect, or injure the blossoms of its spring. What
benefit will you derive from a basket of flowers? Carry a leaf from my
garden: a rose may continue in bloom five or six days, but this
Rose-Garden will flourish for ever.' As soon as I had uttered these
words, he flung the flowers from his lap, and, laying hold of the skirt
of my garment, exclaimed: 'When the beneficent promise, they faithfully
discharge their engagements.' In the course of a few days two chapters
were written in my note-book, in a style that may be useful to orators
and improve the skill of letter-writers. In short, while the rose was
still in bloom, the book called the Rose-Garden was finished."

Dr. Johnson has remarked that "there is scarcely any poet of eminence
who has not left some testimony of his fondness for the flowers, the
zephyrs, and the warblers of the spring." This is pre-eminently the case
of Oriental poets, from Solomon downwards: "Rise up, my love, my fair
one, and come away," exclaims the Hebrew poet in his Book of Canticles:
"for lo! the winter is past, the rain is over and gone: the flowers
appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds has come, and the
voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The fig-tree putteth forth her
green fruits, and the vines with the tender grapes give forth a good
smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away."

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