AFLATÛN [PLATO] THE DIVINE.

The meaning of the word Aflatûn is in the Yonâni [Greek] language ‘general welfare’ and ‘much science.’ Both his parents were noble descendants of Asqlabios. From childhood Aflatûn pursued the study of the language and the rules of poetry till the time of adolescence, with such ardour that he became celebrated for his attainments; but one day he happened to be present at a lecture of Soqrât, who was just declaiming against persons that spend all their time with poetry and poets, thus falling back in other accomplishments. The words of Soqrât made so deep an impression upon him that he attended during five years to his instructions, and devoted himself to the study of philosophy. When Soqrât departed to his eternal rest, Aflatûn went to Egypt, where he associated with the disciples of Fithaghorath, appropriated to himself all they knew, returned to Atheniah, the city of sages, and established a school of philosophy. He also went to Sikiliâ [Sicily], where he had discussions with Dionisos, the governor of that country, and was persecuted; but, by the favour of the Almighty, was allowed at last to escape to Atheniah, where he led an exemplary life, and was a stanch friend of the poor. He refused to enter the arena of politics, although solicited to do so, because he knew that the inhabitants of his country were too persistent in their evil ways, and that if he were to exhort them to abandon the customs of their ancestors the same fate would befall him which had over­taken Soqrât.

Aflatûn was a man of sallow complexion, of middling stature, of full proportions, and beautiful countenance. In benignity of manners and good acts he had no equal. He was very kind to strangers as well as to friends, and much addicted to solitude. He attained the age of eighty-one years.

The author of the Târikh-i-Hukmâ states that the titles of sixty-five of his literary compositions have been handed down to us—may Allah have mercy on him! The follow­ing are some of his maxims: ‘A strong-minded individual may be discerned by his equanimity at the stratagems of obstinate wazirs, by his not giving way to anger when blamed, by his not becoming arrogant and haughty when praised, and by his readiness to engage in good works.’ To a man who spoke much, he said: ‘Why do you not keep the true measure, since God—w. n. b. pr.—has given two ears to a man, but only one mouth, that he may hear twice before speaking once?’—Seek a philosopher who flees the world, but flee one who seeks it.—Whoever incul­cates to men the performance of good acts, but himself abstains from them, resembles him who holds a lamp in his hand that others may see by the light of it.’ A young man asked him how he acquired knowledge, and he replied: ‘By burning more oil in the night than you consume wine during the day.’—‘A king is like a great river, from which small ones are branching out; so that if the large stream be sweet the water of the small ones will be of the same kind; and if the former be salt or bitter, the latter will be bitter also.’ Being asked what man injures himself most, he replied: ‘He who underrates his own value, and humbles himself to persons that do not esteem him, and praises individuals who are not aware of his own virtues.’ ‘Wherever you find perfect intellect you will find lust and covetous­ness at a discount.—Contradict not an angry man, because he will only be more angry.—I am grieved in three cases, namely: when I see a rich man falling into poverty and disgrace, a noble-minded individual into a state of misery, and a learned man who is pitied by ignorant fellows.— Proximity to kings resembles a voyage on the sea, wherein people may be easily drowned.—If you want to give any­thing to a man do not force him to ask you for it.—If you wish to know the nature of a man, consult him on various subjects, from which you will learn his opinions.—He is the weakest of men who cannot keep his own secrets, and the strongest who is able to suppress his anger; he is the most patient who contentedly bears poverty, and the most contented who contentedly receives whatever divine provi­dence has decreed concerning him.—If you have acted for the good of the country make no mention of it, and do not imagine that the king is under obligations to you.—Speak in such a manner of your enemies as not to incur the sus­picion of falsehood.—When the words of a speaker are in accordance with his mind they will make an impression on the hearer, but in the contrary case they will not enter his heart.—Always aid those who have fallen into distress, but not by their own crimes.—The perfection of a man’s intel­lect is to be able to love one’s enemy.—To become weary of friends, and to divulge their secrets, is the sign of a weak mind.—Do not rejoice vainly, do not be deceived by your good luck, and do not repent of laudable acts.—The mind of a person who is your equal in knowledge and science may be superior to yours in your own affairs, because it is void of the partiality which fetters you.—Justice has but one type, and injustice has many, hence it is more easy to practise the latter than the former, and both may be com­pared to archery, where much skill is needed to hit the target, whereas none at all is required to miss it.—The superiority of intellect over passion consists in subjugating external circumstances, whereas the predominance of pas­sions makes him who is subject to them the slave of circum­stances. —He who imagines that he has by the possession of a fine horse and coat acquired superiority over other men is a fool, because his horse and coat excel merely other horses and coats in price, and do not cause him to surpass other men.’ When asked why people are more covetous in their old age than in any other, he replied: ‘Because they know that it is better to die and to leave their property to enemies than to stand in need of the assistance of friends whilst alive.’ ‘Too much advice is suspicious.’ When asked for what words philosophers are blamed, he replied: ‘For words which displease our friends if we utter them, and if we utter them not, the laws of morality suffer.’ When asked what things philosophers considered to be easy and despicable, he replied: ‘To serve fools.’ ‘A destitute man who wedges himself in among the rich resembles a swelling, which appears to people like fatness, and covers the pain which is the cause of the tumour.’ When he was on his deathbed his friends asked him about the life of this world, and he replied: ‘I was compelled to enter it; I wandered about in it with astonishment, and now I abandon it unwillingly; I know, however, that much, that I know nothing.’ As all these sayings of Aflatûn are inserted at the end of the Akhlâqi Nassiri, which is a well-known work, and one of the books composed by Khajah Muhaqqaq Nassir-ud-din Tûsi, they have not been repeated in the present work.