“May God forgive everybody's departed friends! * May the earth not whisper it to him! In Qáqázán we had a certain Mullá Ínak-'Alí, * a rawḍa-khwán * and a very impudent fellow. Whatever may be the case now, he was at that time very thick with me. When he went to recite a rawḍa, he used first of all to put forward a long-winded pro­logue. He used to say (saving your presence), * ‘In this way the matter will be more ass-plain’ (no need to quarrel over a mere illustration). It occurs to me that it would not be a bad thing if I too were to begin with a prologue for you, simply in order that you may get the hang of the matter.

“In olden days there was in the world one great Persian Empire with the State of Greece as its neighbour. At that time the Persian Empire was puffed up with pride. * It was very well pleased with itself, and, if you will pardon the expression, its pipe took a lot of filling. * Its ambition was the King-of-Kingship of the world. Yes, there was then in Persia no ‘King's Darling,’ ‘State's Sweetheart,’ ‘Pet of the Province,’ ‘Beauty of the Privy Chamber,’ ‘Charmer of the Presence,’ or ‘Minion of the Kingdom.’ * Nor had they yet made ‘slides’ in their palaces. * Nor did the Mullás of that time include a ‘Club of the Canon Law,’ ‘Chamberlain of the Canon Law,’ or ‘Park of the Canon Law.’ At that time, in short, there did not exist a ‘Carriage of Islám,’ ‘Table and Chair of the Faith,’ or ‘Russian Horse of Religion.’ Fine days were those indeed, which were in truth the time of King Wizwizak!*

“But to be brief. One day the Persian Government collected its armies and quietly advanced to the back of the wall of Greece. Now to enter Greece there was only one way, by which way the Persian army must needs pass. Yes, but behind that way there was a lane like the Áshtí-kunán * of the Mosque of Áqá Sayyid 'Azízu'lláh, that is to say, there was another narrow lane, but the Persian army did not know about it. As soon as the Persian army arrived behind the wall of Greece, they saw that these seven-fold rascals of Greeks had blocked the road with troops. Well, what dust must Persia now scatter on her head? How, if she would advance, should she advance, or how, if she would retreat, could she retreat? She was left abased and confounded. God have mercy on the poet who so well says, ‘Neither does my heart rejoice in exile, nor have I any honour in my native land,’ etc. But, since things must somehow come right, suddenly the Persian army saw one of those Ja'far-qulí Áqás, * a son of the Begler-Áqá of Cossacks, in other words a certain friend of the foreigner and hospitable humanitarian, gently detach himself from the Greek army, and, stepping softly, * approach the Persian host. ‘Peace be upon you,’ said he; ‘Your arrival is fortunate! You are welcome! Your visit is a pleasure! May your journey be without danger!’ All the while he was quietly pointing out to the Persians with his forefinger that Áshtí-kunán lane. ‘We Greeks,’ said he, ‘have no troops there. If you go that way, you can take our country.’ The Persians agreed, and by that road entered the Greek land.

“This, however, is not the point… By the bye, while I remember, let me mention the name of this foreigner's friend, though it comes a trifle heavy on our tongues; but what is to be done? His name was Ephialtes…God curse the Devil! * I don't know why it is that when­ever I hear this name I think of some of our Persian Ministers…But let us return to the point.

“When His Excellency, that double-distilled essence of zeal and sum of science and political acumen, Mírzá 'Abdu'r-Razzáq Khán, engineer, and lecturer in the School of the Cossack barracks, after a three months' pedestrian tour drew for the Russians a military map of the road through Mázandarán, we his friends said, ‘It is a pity that such a man of spirit should not have a title.’ So some twenty of us sat for three days and nights considering what title we should obtain for him, but nothing occurred to our minds. Worst of all, he was a man of taste. ‘Any title obtained for me,’ says he, ‘must be virgin; that is to say, no one else must have borne it before me.’ We enquired of the State Accountants, who said there was no ‘virgin title’ left. We opened our dictionaries, and found that neither in the languages of the Persians, Arabs, Turks, or Franks from A to Z was there one single word left which had not been employed as a title at least ten times over. Well, what were we to do? Would it be pleasing to God that this man should thus remain untitled?

“However, since such things must come right, one day, being in a state of extreme dejection, I picked up a history book which was at hand in order to distract my mind. No sooner had I opened the book than I read in the first line of the right-hand page: ‘Ever afterwards the Greeks stigmatized Ephialtes as a traitor whose blood might law­fully be shed.’ O you cursed Greeks, what had poor Ephialtes done to you that you should call him a traitor? Is hospitality to strangers blasphemy in your creed? Do you not believe in kindness to foreigners?

“In short as soon as I saw this name I said, ‘Nothing could be better than that we should adopt this name as a title for Mírzá 'Abdu'r-Razzáq Khán, both because it is “virgin,” and because these two persons have the closest resemblance to one another. This one was kind to strangers and so was that one. This one was hospitable to guests and so was that one. This one said, “Had I not acted thus, another would have done so,” and so did that one. There was only one difference between them, namely, that the buttons of Ephialtes's coat were not made of native forest-wood. Well, supposing they were not, such trifles are unworthy of consideration.’

“In short, we friends assembled and gave an entertainment and made great rejoicings. We also instantly despatched a telegram to Káshán bidding them send quickly five bottles of Qamṣar rose-water and two boxes of sugared walnuts, so that we might present them [to the Sháh] and secure the title. In the midst of these proceedings Ḥájji Maliku't-Tujjár * conceded the Astárá road to the Russians. I don't know what scoundrel told him the history of this title, but he put his two feet in one shoe * and declared that he was a heaven-sent genius, and that this title was his rightful property. Now for some months you don't know what a hullabaloo is going on, with Mírzá 'Abdu'r-Razzáq Khán on the one hand, supported by his science of Geometry, and Ḥájji Maliku't-Tujjár on the other with his persuasive eloquence and his quotations from the poems of Imru'u'l-Qays and Náṣir-i-Khusraw-i-'Alawí. O Kablá'í Dakhaw, you don't know in what toil and moil we are caught! If you can deliver us from this calamity it would be as though you had freed a slave for God's sake, and may God, if He will, forgive your sons!

“May God make one day of your life a hundred years! Today is a day for zealous endeavour. For the rest, you are the best judge. I have nothing more to submit.

“Your faithful servant, GADFLY.”

It is difficult in a translation to do justice to these articles, which mark an absolutely new departure in Persian Originality of Dakhaw both in prose and verse. satire, and are written in a style at once idiomatic and forcible. Though they appeared under variou pseudonyms, I fancy they were all written by Dakhaw, who, little as he wrote, on the strength of them and a few of his poems * deserves, in my opinion, to occupy the first rank amongst contemporary Persian men of letters. It is to be regretted that, though a comparatively young man, he has apparently produced nothing during the last ten or twelve years.

Of the last twelve years I have little to say. The beginning of 1912 saw the culmination of Russian violence The last twelve years (A.D. 1912- 1923). and oppression in Persia, and, for the time being, the end alike of liberty and literary effort. Then came the War, when Persia be­came the passive victim of three contending foreign armies, with little profit to expect from the success of any one of them, while there was scarcity everywhere and famine and devastation in the western provinces. To Persia at least the Russian Revolution came as a godsend, while the sub­sequent withdrawal of Great Britain after the failure of the Anglo-Persian Agreement left her at last more or less mistress in her own house. How far she will be able to make use of the breathing-space thus accorded her remains to be seen.

Surprise has sometimes been expressed that during the War there should have existed in Persia a considerable pro- Persia and Germany. German party, largely composed of prominent Democrats and Reformers. The explanation is simple enough. Imperial Russia was hated and feared, and with good reason, and any Power which diverted her attention from her victim and threatened her supremacy was sure of a large measure of popularity, while Persia had no reason to fear or dislike Germany, which lay remote from her borders and had at no time threatened her independence. Germany, of course, took advantage of this sentiment, and carried on an active pro­paganda, of which the curious history remains to be written.

The old Káwa newspaper (1916-1919). One of the chief organs of the propaganda was the Káwa (Kaveh) newspaper published at Berlin, nominally once a fortnight, from January 24, 1916, to August 15, 1919. There was a long gap between the combined Nos. 29 and 30, July 15, 1918, and Nos. 31 and 32, October 15, 1918; between No. 33, Nov. 15, 1918, and No. 34, March 1, 1919; and between this last and the final number of the old series mentioned above, which appeared five months and a half later. On The new Káwa (1920-1921). January 22, 1920, appeared the first number of the New Series (Dawra-i-Jadíd), which defi­nitely renounced politics in favour of literature and science, while keeping the same external form and high standard of style and typography. In this form the paper, now appearing only once a month, endured for two years more, the last number (No. 12, Jahrg. 2, Neue Folge) being dated December 1, 1921, and containing no less than 33 large pages, closely printed in double columns.