RECORD OF JARJIS [GEORGIUS] AND HIS MIRACLES.
Some of the chief historians narrate that Jarjis had been a disciple of the apostles. Certain pupils of theirs have recorded that he dwelt in Syria, in the town of Filisteen, and that he had property, to calculate the extent whereof exceeds the powers of imagination. A number of Christians, who were his adherents, concealed their religion on account of the predominance of infidels in that country. At that time a powerful and wicked king was reigning in Mousul, to whom also the inhabitants of Syria were subject. He possessed an idol called Aflûn [Apollo?], to the worship of which he invited the people, and everyone refusing to comply was grievously tormented. On that occasion Jarjis conceived the idea of taking some exquisite presents to the King of Mousul, in order to remain safe to the end of his life from the rapacious attempts of powerful individuals to get hold of his possessions. Accordingly he collected some choice gifts and departed to Mousul, where he arrived just at the time when the king was sitting in the assembly of his grandees, in front of an enormous bonfire, inviting the people to worship Aflûn, pardoning everyone who complied, and throwing all into the fire who refused. When Jarjis saw what was going on, he said to himself: ‘It is impossible for me to remain silent in such a case, and to approach this wicked man is illicit, according to the principles of religion and probity.’ Accordingly he departed from the assembly, but exclaimed in a loud voice: ‘O king! hear the words of truth, and calm thy wrath, that thou mayest acknowledge me as thy faithful adviser, and act according to my admonitions.’ He also said: ‘O king! thou art a servant, and hast an Omnipotent Nourisher, who created heaven and earth, with whatever is between them. He has called thee and all created beings from the concealment of non-existence into the plain of being, and has assigned thee thy daily bread. But thou hast deflected from the straight path, and believest a carved stone, which has no power whatever to be God, commanding people to adore it as the Deity. Accept therefore my advice, abandon this false religion, and turn thy face to the true Oiblah.’ The king asked: ‘Who art thou, and whence comest thou?’ Jarjis replied: ‘I am a servant of the servants of God, who has created me or loam, and will again transform me into it. My native country is Rûm, and my dwelling-place Filisteen. The Lord and bestower of gifts has vouchsafed to me the possession of much property; but fearing the darkness and heat of the sun of calamities, I had the intention of taking refuge under the shadow of the king’s protection, and have come to this place. When, however, I beheld the king worshipping an object made with hands, and forcing people by threats and punishments to adopt a false religion, I lost the reins of self-possession from my hands, and preferred speech to silence.’ The king replied: ‘In consequence of thy utterances and thy opposition to me, thou hast become liable to punishment; but I respite and advise thee, in the same manner as thou hast at first commenced by advising me, that thou obey me, and that thou consider my wazir, my viceroy, and all my officials, with their honour and magnificence [who follow my religion]. Thou art deceived by worshipping a God from whom thou derivest no profit. For, if thy God were endued with the qualities attributed to Him by thee, He would have lifted thee out of this misery and baseness, and would have exalted thee to be a prince above all other men.’ Jarjis retorted: ‘I am not scorned and miserable in the sight of my Creator; humility and resignation are duties to me; I covet not the pomp and circumstance of thy people, and I entertain full confidence in the grace of my God.’ Perceiving two men very near to the king, Jarjis continued: ‘Thou and thy idol are both mean and despicable! You can create nothing, nor provide anyone with food, and can neither hurt nor profit anybody! My Nourisher is the Omnipotent Sage, and the proof of my assertion is, that neither of these two men, who are favoured and honoured by the king, can attain either the state of Eliâs or of I’sa.’ The king asked: ‘Who is Eliâs and who is I’sa?’ Jarjis replied: ‘Eliâs was a servant of God, in need of food and drink, but has now by the favour of the Lord attained a state of beatitude, is at present invested with the qualities of angels, and stands no longer in need of physical nourishment. I’sa was a servant of God, whom He created without the intervention of a father, and invested with the robe of prophecy, so that he resuscitated dead persons, cured dumb and leprous individuals, and after the manifestation of these miracles, the Lord and Answerer of prayers raised him to heaven, and assigned to him a place near His glorious throne.’ The king replied: ‘Thou hast made a long speech, and related stories, the truth whereof is not evident to us; but if thou adorest not Aflûn, we shall throw thee into the fire.’ Jarjis rejoined: ‘If the erection of the heavens, and the spreading out of the earth, the rising of the sun and of the moon, the alternations of day and night, and the production of plants and trees depend upon the power of Aflûn, I am ready to adore him; but otherwise not.’ The king replied: ‘After this there is no respite to thy punishment.’ Then he ordered the flesh of his body to be torn off with tongs of iron, and his limbs to be wrenched off. But as Jarjis felt not the least pains from these torments, the king commanded iron nails to be made red-hot in the fire, and to be stuck in his head, which operation likewise could not injure him. Thereon the king ordered a vessel to be filled with molten brass, into which Jarjis was thrown; then it was covered until it cooled and became solid again. When, however, the top had been lifted, Jarjis was found to be alive. At last the king asked: ‘Has this punishment not hurt thee?’ Jarjis replied: ‘No.’ He further queried: ‘What was the cause of thy safety?’ Jarjis rejoined: ‘I have informed thee that I have a God who is omnipotent, and He has granted me deliverance from this calamity that it may become a convincing argument to thee.’ The king now feared lest he might lose his realm and sovereignty [if he allowed himself to be thus contradicted]; therefore Jarjis was thrown into prison, prostrated on his face, and the extremities of his body having been fixed to the ground by means of iron nails, a block of marble was placed on his back. When the night set in, God the Most High and Glorious sent an angel to Jarjis, to adorn him with the diadem of prophecy, and to convey to him the following message: ‘By God, who is longsuffering and thankful, thou art commanded to be longsuffering and thankful. The Most High says: For seven years We shall surrender thee to the grasp of the professors of infidelity and wickedness; and Our decree is that they shall four times attempt to slay thee, but every time thou wilt again be resuscitated to life by My omnipotence, and wilt after the fifth attempt be translated to the regions of paradise. Be of good cheer, because in all circumstances My favour will accompany thee.’
At daybreak Jarjis suddenly made his appearance in the king’s palace, and the tyrant asked: ‘Who has released thee from prison?’ The pious man replied: ‘The sovereign whose power is greater than that of all kings.’ At this answer the infidel became so angry that he ordered Jarjis to be placed on his head [upside down] and cut in twain. The [two] pieces were thrown into a den tenanted by lions, who, however, by Divine inspiration did not allow the pieces to fall to the ground, but submissively received them upon their backs. Then the eternal Lord sent an angel, who spoke as follows: ‘Thus saith the Lord Almighty: I have granted thee a new life by a miracle, the like of which no ear has ever heard of, nor eye beheld.’
The next day the king held a great festival of rejoicing, sat in the assembly of his favourite courtiers, praised Aflûn, said that no God was stronger than him, and asked: ‘Where is Jarjis, who had threatened us with the thing he was adoring?’ All of a sudden, however, Jarjis raised his head in the midst of the assembly, whereat the king and his grandees became much amazed, and said: ‘This man greatly resembles Jarjis!’ The latter replied: ‘I am Jarjis, God the Most High has resuscitated me after being killed! If you were in possession of a little sense and intellect, you would believe in a God who is able to perform such acts!’ The idolaters then said to each other: ‘Jarjis is a sorcerer. By his perfect knowledge of magic he pretends to have been killed, such not having been the case in reality. The proper thing for us to do now is to assemble the magicians in order to conquer and to punish him.’ The king, having agreed to this proposal, issued orders for all the sorcerers to assemble under the shade of his exalted throne. When they had all arrived, he said to their chief: ‘In this town there is a man whose sorcery has distressed me. Now you must show me some of your works, that I may be apprized of your ability.’ Accordingly the chief of the magicians took out two serpents from a bag, which were in the sight of the people transformed into two oxen, and began to plough the ground. Then the chief sorcerer sowed grain in the soil, which immediately sprouted and grew; he harvested, threshed, and bruised it, and made the flour he had obtained therefrom into a mass of dough, which he baked. All present approved of this feat, and said: ‘We are certain that thou wilt conquer Jarjis. Then the king promised a reward to the magician, and told him to transmute Jarjis into a dog. The sorcerer agreed, asked for a cup of water, recited an incantation over it, and requested the king to order Jarjis to drink it. The latter obeyed, and when the magician asked: ‘Jarjis, how feelest thou?’ He replied: ‘Quite well, because I was very thirsty, and this water has refreshed me. The true God has preserved me from the wicked machinations of persecutors and of Satan.’ When the sorcerer perceived that his incantation had taken no effect, he was amazed and said: ‘O king! if a created being were thy antagonist, we could assist thee; but thou wantest to resist the creator of heaven and earth; and in this matter we must confess our weakness and inability.’ Then one of the persons present said: ‘You consider Jarjis to be a sorcerer, but no magician is able to elude death.’ With this opinion the chief of the sorcerers agreed, and the man continued: ‘We have been in the country of Syria, where an old woman’s cow died. She came to Jarjis, and asked him to resuscitate the animal by his power, whereon he handed his staff to the woman, saying: “Take it, and strike the dead cow therewith, and it will be alive again.” The woman replied: “It is a long way from this place to my country, and when I arrive there, the limbs of the cow will probably have become separated from each other.” Jarjis, however, replied: “If only a single bone of the cow remains, the object will be attained.” Accordingly the old woman returned, acted as she had been ordered, and her cow was again made alive.’ Then the same man asked the chief magician: ‘Are sorcerers able to resuscitate the dead?’ and he replied: ‘No, by God, and I bear witness that there is no God but Allah.’ Hearing this ejaculation the king became angry, and queried: ‘What has so quickly deceived and led thee astray?’ But that righteous and sincere man replied: ‘God forbid that I should have fallen into error! I have professed my belief in the God of all men!’ The king dreaded that such declarations might induce also others to follow Jarjis; therefore he ordered first the tongue of this believer [i.e., of the chief magician] to be cut out, and that he should afterwards be killed. This was done, but the news spread, and four thousand persons, adopting his opinions, became Musulmâns. As soon, however, as the unbelieving tyrant had obtained information that such a number of men had made profession of Islâm, he commanded them all to be murdered, and then said to Jarjis: ‘Why hast thou not asked thy God to prohibit me from killing them?’ The saint replied: ‘The bountiful God has removed His obedient worshippers to paradise, to deliver them from thy tyranny and from the troubles of this world. They have obtained propinquity to the mercy of the Lord of both worlds.’
It is related that after this event, one of the king’s courtiers said: ‘O Jarjis, thou believest that thy God doeth what he willeth, and createth what he liketh! If thy God will cause these chairs, whereon we are seated, to return to their first state, and again to become trees, I shall believe in him!’ Jarjis replied: ‘The Lord Most High— w. n. b. e.—may grant this prayer if He likes, but no one has any authority over Him.’ Meanwhile an angel descended from heaven, and said to Jarjis: ‘The Lord of glory vouchsafes to thee so much favour and mercy, that every prayer of thine meets with compliance.’ This information augmented the confidence of Jarjis in the grace of the Creator, and he turned his face to the Qiblah of prayer. Accordingly the chairs began immediately to shake, to sprout forth leaves, and to bear fruit. The king with his grandees witnessed this miracle, and the courtier, who had promised to believe Jarjis in case of his ability to perform it, exclaimed: ‘In all my life I have not seen a more clever sorcerer than this man!’ Hereon insults were heaped upon Jarjis, and he was thrust into a brazen statue of an ox, filled with sulphur and naphtha. Then a fire was kindled beneath it, so that every substance within the statue was melted, and the king thought that Jarjis had departed to the next world. Meanwhile God the Most High afflicted that hard-hearted community with a hurricane of rain and snow, thunder and darkness, so that for several days they were unable to discern the night from the day. On that occasion the Lord Most High despatched an angel to the earth, who precipitated the statue of the ox with such violence to the ground that the terrible noise occasioned thereby prostrated all the inhabitants of that town upon their faces, whereon Jarjis issued sound and safe from the statue.
When the tempest had abated, Jarjis again honoured the assembly of the king with his presence, reiterated his admonitions, and the amazement of the king and his grandees increased. Then a courtier, whose name was Tûrqalitâ, said to Jarjis: ‘In this neighbourhood there is a cavern with receptacles cut out of the rock, every one of which contains a body of some ancient king. If thy pretension be true, recite a prayer that they hold a conversation with us.’ Jarjis agreed to this proposal, and a great multitude accompanied him to the cave, at the entrance whereof he knelt down in prayer, and ordered the rotten bones of the kings, their wives, and children to be brought out from the receptacles, and to be deposited in separate places. Then he besought the Granter of requests to bestow life on that assemblage. This prayer was responded to, and the ancient corpses, amounting in number to nine men, five women, and three children, were resuscitated to life. Jarjis perceived an aged man among them, and asked: ‘What is thy name?’ and he replied: ‘Touqil.’ The saint further examined him about his religion, and he answered: ‘All my life I was an idolater, and although four hundred years have elapsed since my decease, the bitterness of the agony of death has not yet left my palate. When I died I was conveyed to the righteous Creator, and when He inquired about my religion He found me and my companions to be idolaters. He appointed worms over our bodies, and grief over our souls, and although we prayed much to be once more sent back to the world in order to atone for our past lives, we were not permitted to do so, and were suffering torments till this moment when our souls rejoined their bodies.’ Having uttered these words, Touqil continued to speak to Jarjis, saying: ‘O pious man, who art thou by the aid of whose efficacious prayers we have been resuscitated to life?’ He replied: ‘I am Jarjis the prophet.’ When Touqil heard the name of his lordship, he caught hold of his skirts, and exclaimed: ‘Have mercy on us now, that the Lord, whose glory be magnified, may take compassion upon us, and accept the repentance of His miserable handful of clay, and grant our request.’ But Tûrqalitâ said to Touqil: ‘Thou hast been a celebrated king, and hast for a long time propagated the religion of thy ancestors; art thou not ashamed now to bow to this seducer?’ Touqil, however, turned his face away from him, and said: ‘I know what I have seen after my decease.’ Then Jarjis struck the ground with his foot, whereon a spring of water gushed from beneath it, in which he ordered that assembly to wash themselves according to the rules prescribed for the sacred ablutions. Then the resuscitated corpses pronounced the formula of monotheism, whereon Jarjis again struck the ground with his foot, and God—w. n. b. e.—caused them to die again; then they took their places in the paradise of eternity.
It is related that despite of this miracle of Jarjis neither the king nor any of his followers believed in him, but said, after having witnessed this strange event: ‘O Jarjis! In all our lives we have not seen a magician more perfect than thee, because thou hast shown us dead persons in a state of life, none of whom possessed it in reality.’ The idolaters and enemies consulted with each other about the destruction of Jarjis, and agreed to torment him with hunger, in order to cause him to revoke his assertions. Accordingly they confined him in the house of a poor old woman, who had a deaf, blind, lame, and dumb son, in such a manner that he was unable to move. Jarjis asked the woman to give him some food, but she swore an oath and said: ‘These two days and nights I had only the little food which I gathered by begging to satisfy my hunger; now I intend to go out to collect some for thee.’ As soon as the old woman had disappeared Jarjis prayed that a wooden post which was in the house might become green and fresh, and produce various fruits. Accordingly the post began to grow and lifted its head towards the sky. When the old woman returned to the house, and beheld that tree, she said: ‘I believe in God, besides whom there is no other! He has fed thee in the house of famine!’ She was very anxious for the recovery of her son, and besought Jarjis to condescend to effect it, adding: ‘Withhold not the eye of favour from his tongue and feet also, that he may speak and walk.’ But he replied: ‘Verily thou hast yet another day,’ implying that the walking and speaking of her son was postponed for another day.
It is related that in those days the king once passed near the house of the old woman, and beholding the tree which bore various fruits, made inquiries about it. The courtiers replied: ‘This sorcerer Jarjis has caused it to grow, and has also cured the old woman’s son.’ The king further asked how it had happened that all this time information had been withheld from him concerning that event, and the courtiers answered that they had been apprehensive of thereby causing uneasiness to his majesty. Hereon the king became incensed with anger, and ordered the house of the woman to be destroyed, together with the tree, which was dug up root and branch. By the prayers of Jarjis, however, that grove was again restored to its former condition. After that the king ordered the body of Jarjis to be cut to pieces, to be burnt, and the ashes thereof to be divided into three parts; the first portion was thrown into the sea, the second upon the land, and the third carried off to a mountain. The crowed, however, had not yet dispersed when the following words were heard: ‘O sea and O mountain! Guard the particles of My pious servant, which have been entrusted to you, and collect the ashes that they may return to their pristine state!’ During this allocution a wind arose from three sides, and a great cloud of dust approached, in the centre whereof Jarjis became visible, shaking his blessed head. The people then carried the saint to the presence of the king, and related what had taken place. The infidel and godless monarch was amazed, but said to Jarjis: ‘If thou obeyest me in one thing thou wilt escape all further persecution, and the honour of the kingdom will not suffer any detriment. I shall, moreover, treat thee very kindly, and comply with all thy wishes.’ Jarjis asked: ‘What must I do?’ The king replied: ‘Worship Aflûn once, and after that service I shall require nothing more from thee.’
As Jarjis was intent upon the destruction of the idol, he promised compliance, whereon the king became so glad that he said to him: ‘Thou must spend this day with me, and also repose in the night on my couch, in order that thy dignity may become evident to the high and to the low people.’ Accordingly Jarjis remained that day with the king, but in the evening he arose to pray and recited the Psalms aloud. By the sweetness of the voice of Jarjis and by the salutary effect of the recitation of the word of God, the wife of the king was, during that night, delivered from the darkness of infidelity and idolatry.
When the world-illuminating sun rose on the eastern horizon Jarjis entered the idol-temple, at the door whereof a great multitude of the people had assembled. The above-mentioned old woman, in whose house Jarjis had formerly been imprisoned, having heard of what was going to take place, took her son upon her back, made her appearance in the temple, and began to reproach Jarjis as follows: ‘O Jarjis! God the Most High has ennobled thee with the garment of prophecy, has caused thee to triumph over thy foes, and has resuscitated thee to life every time they killed thee; thou hast nevertheless forgotten all His favours, and art engaged in worshipping another god besides Him.’ Jarjis replied: ‘Let down thy son from thy back, because it is for a wise purpose.’ The old woman complied, and Jarjis said to the child: ‘Go and say to the idols: Jarjis is calling you!’ Accordingly the boy delivered the message to the statues, whereon they all approached his lordship to wait upon him; but Jarjis stamped the ground with his foot, whereon all the idols fell down.
It is related that Eblis felt on that occasion the humiliation of the idols, and came forth from the abdomen of Aflûn, which was the largest of them, but Jarjis held the devil back and asked him: ‘What is thy object in leading men astray and sending them to hell?’ Eblis replied: ‘I delight in seducing men from their allegiance to the sovereign of heaven and earth, on account of the enmity which I bore towards Adam, and which I still entertain towards all his descendants.’
When the king saw that Aflûn and all the other idols had fallen to the ground he exclaimed: ‘O Jarjis, thou hast deceived me and hast destroyed the object of my adoration!’ Jarjis replied: ‘How callest thou inorganic matter a god since it has no power to avert from itself any such calamity?’ On that occasion the king was also informed that his spouse had made profession of Islâm, and ordered her to be slain in the most disgraceful manner. After the execution of this monotheistic lady Jarjis fell on his knees and prayed as follows: ‘O Lord! During these seven years Thou hast tried me with various afflictions; now, however, the promised time has expired! Receive me, O Lord, into the propinquity of Thy mercy, and grant that before my final departure from this earth I may behold the punishment of the transgressors.’ When he had terminated this invocation a cloud was appointed from the abode of chastisement to destroy the infidels, and it began to rain fire on their heads. As, however, the idolaters received this judgment without repenting hearts, it served only to inflame their wrath, so that they drew their swords and cut Jarjis to pieces. The fire consumed the whole city, with all the idolaters; the believers, however, remained safe, and the number of those who had placed faith in the words of Jarjis is said to have amounted to thirty-three thousand; but God is most wise!
RECORD OF SHAMSÛN THE HERMIT.
It is said that after the ascension of I’sa—t. w. s.—and before the mission of the seal of prophets—u. w. b., etc.— there lived a hermit in some Arab country, who was so powerful and strong, that he tore any bonds by which he was fastened, spent most of his time in fighting against infidels, and bore the name of Shamsûn. The idolaters consulted with each other how they might destroy him, and said: ‘We may vanquish him through his own wife.’ Accordingly the governor of the town sent a messenger to the woman, with the promise that he would marry her, and give her much property, if she would connive at the destruction of Shamsûn. The unfaithful wife, laying aside the duties she owed to her husband, consented to become an accomplice in the plot. It is related that she asked for instructions, and that she was told to fasten Shamsûn with ropes. Accordingly, when he went to bed, she tied him, but when he awoke he burst the shackles, and asked for the reason of thus confining him; but his wife replied that she had done this only to try his strength, and he was satisfied. When the woman had made her report to the king, he sent a chain with orders to fetter Shamsûn therewith, after he had fallen asleep. This attempt likewise proved unsuccessful, and when Shamsûn expostulated with his wife, she said that she intended to ascertain the truth of the saying: ‘Shamsûn is able to burst any fetters.’ Shamsûn replied: ‘This is true; but if I am tied with my own hair, I am unable to liberate myself.’ Accordingly, when he had fallen asleep, his treacherous wife cut off several hairs from his blessed moustache [sic], with which she tied together the thumbs of his hands, and then sent a message to the infidels. They came immediately and took Shamsûn to the presence of the king, who was at that time sitting on a stage supported by four columns. As soon as Shamsûn arrived, the king ordered the people to assemble at the foot of the stage, and a gibbet to be erected opposite to it, whereon to hang Shamsûn. The latter, however, uttered the following prayer: ‘O Lord! if Thou art willing to preserve my life, for the purpose of waging war against Thy enemies, deign to extricate me from this calamity.’ This prayer having met with a favourable response, an angel arrived, liberated him from his bonds, and ordered him to pull down the columns of the stage whereon the king was sitting. Shamsûn obeyed, the stage fell to the ground, and the king with all his courtiers hastened to the mansion of hell. Whilst the people were engaged in disentangling the corpses from the débris of the platform, Shamsûn returned sound and safe to his hermitage, but divorced his wife. It is related that Shamsûn spent a thousand days in fasting, and as many nights in vigils; but some commentators assert that the meaning of ‘a thousand months’ in the blessed verse, ‘The night of Al-Qadr is better than a thousand months,’238 relates to the thousand months which Shamsûn spent in the worship of the forgiving Sovereign.
RECORD OF KHÂLED BIN SENÂN.
Some have said that Khâled Bin Senân was one of the children of the prophet Esma’il. He was sent during the period of the Fettrat, i.e., the time intervening between the ascension of I’sa—t. w. s.—and the mission of Muhammad —u. w. b., etc. He said to his people: ‘An angel, who is the treasurer of the Almighty, comes to visit me, and converses with me about paradise and hell, about the resurrection, the balance [in which good and bad acts are weighed], and about all matters concerning the next world.’ At that time a fire issued during nights from rocky places in the country of Ghais, so that the Arabs were able to graze their camels by the brightness of that fire as far as a three days’ journey from it. When Khâled mentioned his interview with the angel to those Arabs, they said: ‘If thy pretensions be true, extinguish the fire.’ Accordingly he proceeded to the locality and put out the fire with his staff. After that he said to the people: ‘I am departing to the next world. Three days after my death an onager will make his appearance on my tomb, and will bray thrice. You must kill him, open his abdomen, and strike it against my grave, whereon I shall come forth from it, to give you information concerning this world and the next.’ After the expiration of three nights, an onager actually made his appearance at the grave and brayed thrice; but when the people were about to execute the injunction, the relatives of Khâled hindered them, saying: ‘Perhaps he might not come forth from the grave, which would become an occasion of shame and blame to us.’ In the Ma’arif Hassibi it is recorded that the daughter of Khâled came in her old age to the prophet— u. w. b., etc.—and that his lordship spread out his Redâ,239 on which he made her sit down, and said: ‘Welcome, daughter of the Beni Dhia’h.’ When she heard the Surah of the ‘Declaration of the unity of God’240 from his lordship, she said: ‘My father was in the habit of reciting this Surah.’
DISSERTATION CONCERNING THE NUMBER OF PROPHETS—
GREETINGS AND SALUTATIONS TO THEM.
Opinions differ concerning the number of the prophets —salutations to them. Most historians assert that from the time of Adam till that of the seal [i.e., Muhammad] one hundred and twenty-four thousand prophets had been sent, and this opinion is endorsed by Ebn Hanân in his Ssahih. Others believe that their number does not exceed eight thousand; and Abu-Ala’llâi Moussuli adopts this conjecture in his Jámi’, in which he states that his lordship, the refuge of apostleship, had spoken as follows: ‘Allah, the Most High, has sent me, who am Muhammad, after eight thousand prophets.’ Of these eight thousand prophets, four thousand had been appointed to guide and to direct the children of Esrâil, and the remaining four thousand were sent to various other nations. Abdullah Bin Ahmad Bin Khalil—Allah have mercy on him—has in his Kitâb Ta’rif-ulambiâ related on the authority of Yahia Bin Sa’id that the chosen Lord [i.e., Muhammad] has said: ‘I am the seal of a thousand prophets or more.’
Those who adhere to the first-mentioned opinion assert that of the whole number of one hundred and twenty-four thousand prophets, only four thousand three hundred and thirteen were divinely inspired, and that all the others were uninspired. He is an inspired prophet to whom the Divine inspiration has been sent through Jebrâil—t. w. s.— apart from the circumstance of his receiving also a book or not. He is an uninspired prophet who has, for the sake of promulging a revelation, been appointed over a nation only by means of a vision [in his sleep].
The grades of the prophets are four, namely: Prophecy, Apostleship, Uvlu-l-a’zm,241 and Sealship. The first grade is general, and the second special, but the fourth is the most special. Concerning the signification of the expression Uvlu-l-a’zm, there is a great difference of opinion, but as the author desires to be brief, he will expatiate only a little thereon: Some U’lâma call all the prophets Uvlu-l-a’zm, except the Lord Yûnas. Others assert that the Uvlu-l-a’zm were founders of religion, and according to them Adam, Nûh, Ebrahim, Mûsa, I’sa, and Muhammad—the blessings of Allah be on him and on them—are all Uvlu-l-a’zm. Others, again, state that the Uvlu-l-a’zm were abrogators of religions, and according to them Adam was not an Uvlu-l-a’zm, but the five others just named after him were such. There is but one Seal, as all the people [of Muhammad] agree, namely, his blessed and perfect essence the Lord Muhammad, who was without any doubt the highest of all the prophets. It is related that the most excellent of prophets after his lordship was Ebrahim, the friend [of God]; then Mûsa, the speaker [with God]; then I’sa, and then Nûh (t. w. s.). There are four possessors of books, the first being Mûsa, possessor of the Pentateuch; the second is Dâud, possessor of the Psalms; the third is I’sa, possessor of the Gospel; and the fourth is Huzrat Sayyid Wulud Adam Muhammad Bin A’bdullah Bin A’bdul Mutalleb—u. w. b., etc.—possessor of the Qurân.
Some relate that twenty-one pages have descended to Adam, twenty-nine to Sheth, thirty to Edris, ten to Nûh, and also ten to Ebrahim. The blessings of Allah be on our prophet, on all other prophets and inspired messengers, martyrs, and righteous men.
It has not escaped the intelligence of the attentive reader that the delay in completing this portion of the work is mainly attributable to the insertion of details unworthy to be recorded. It is, moreover, certain that if His Highness the Amir—the protector of learned and good men, may his reign endure for ever—had not taken a fancy to these stories, not one-hundredth part of them would have been recorded, especially as the task itself was a very difficult one, and as envious critics were ever prone to blame the author, who is, however, fully satisfied with his patron’s approbation—may Allah perpetuate his glory— and will now relate the history of the kings of Persia.242
NOTE BY THE EDITOR.
HERE follows in Mirkhond’s original work the history of the Persian kings of the Peshdâdian and Kaiânian dynasties, the earliest rulers in Persia. As this part had been already translated by Mr. David Shea in A.D. 1832 for the old Oriental Translation Fund, Mr. Rehatsek did not think it necessary to re-translate it. Shea’s translation not being now easily procurable, it was my first intention to reprint it as the third volume of this series, so that the whole of Part I. of Mirkhond’s history would be complete in one set. Having ascertained, however, that copies of Shea’s work are obtainable at Mr. Quaritch’s, 15, Piccadilly, and can also be perused at the libraries of the Royal Asiatic Society and Royal Institution in Albemarle Street, at the British Museum, the Bodleian, and London Library, St. James’s Square, it was decided not to go to the expense of a reprint, but to give here a short summary of the work in question.
Mirkhond tells us that the first Peshdâdian and the first king was Kaiomars or Kaiomarth. In the total absence of dates it is impossible to fix any time for the commencement of his reign except that it must have been many hundred years before the Christian era. He was succeeded by his grandson Houshung, who, murdered by the demons when praying in a cave, was followed by his son Tehmuras, surnamed the Enslaver of Demons, as during his reign he completely subdued them. Tehmuras was followed by the great and mighty Jemsheed, but whether he was the son, brother, or nephew of the deceased king is not definitely settled. The reign of Jemsheed fills some twenty odd pages in Shea’s translation, and, among other things, this king is said to have ‘divided the people into four classes, and enjoined that no individual should engage in the pursuits of any class excepting his own. The first consisted of wise and learned men; the second of the military and the royal retinue; the third of those who plough and sow the ground; the fourth of tradesmen and artificers. With respect to this distribution, he said: “As the four elements are the cause of perpetuating the various species, so these four classes are the means of civilizing the world.”’ Then follow the details of the duties of each of these classes. Curiously enough, among the Hindus there are the Brahmans or priestly or learned class, the Kshutrya or warlike class, the Vaishya or agricultural class, and the Shoodra or menial class. Whether Jemsheed is the original author of this system has still to be settled, for in the absence of both Persian and Hindu dates it is difficult to fix the time when these arrangements were introduced either into Persia or Hindustan.
After a fabulously long reign, varying from seven hundred to three hundred years, Jemsheed appears to have been attacked, defeated, and succeeded on the throne by Zohâk, the Arab, who reigned also for a fabulous period of several hundred years, and was eventually disposed of by Gâvah the Blacksmith, who headed an insurrection against Zohâk’s oppression and tyranny. Gâvah seems to have been rather a sensible man, for, after a successful revolution, when offered the throne, he said: ‘I am not one of the royal family, nor do I possess the qualifications necessary for the discharge of that important duty:
‘One whose profession lies in iron, forges and bellows,
Would commit a sin by aspiring to the kingly state,’
and so he declined the honour.* On this, Feridoon, a descendant of Jemsheed, and in concealment on account of the designs of Zohâk against him, was discovered and made king. Feridoon, whose praises have been sung along with others of his dynasty by Firdausi in his great epic ‘The Shahnamah, or Book of the Kings of Persia,’ reigned for many years, and was rebelled against by his two sons Selm and Tûr, who treacherously slew his favourite son and their half-brother Iraj. After a reign of five hundred years Feridoon resigned his throne to his grandson Minucheher, who commenced by attacking, defeating, and slaying the murderers of his father Iraj, and then ruled prosperously. ‘But after the auspicious fortune of Minucheher had for nearly fifty years been exercised in expanding the wings of benevolence over the feeble and the husbandmen, suddenly the malignant Deity, on the coin of whose sincerity you can build no hope, and tyrannic Fate, on whose friendship no reliance can be placed, effected a change and impelled Afrasiâb, who was descended from Tûr, to commence hostilities against the sovereign of the human race.’ After a long struggle Afrasiâb was obliged to retire from besieging Minucheher in the fort of Ámal, formerly the populous, wealthy, and impregnable capital of Tabaristan, and a sort of truce was established between them. Minucheher then turned his attention to the administration of his government, and delivered a long speech on the respective duties of a king to his subjects and vice versâ, which might be perused with advantage even by the kings of the present day. After a reign of one hundred and twenty years he appointed his son Nauzer his successor, and died shortly afterwards. Nauzer was attacked and defeated by the Afrasiâb mentioned above, and an eclipse which took place at the time of the battle between them, has been the means of fixing a date on other grounds than tradition only. Shea, in a footnote at page 193, says: ‘According to the most probable accounts the reign of Nauzer falls between B.C. 798 and 768. The field of battle [between Nauzer and Afrasiâb] was in Dehestân between 38° and 39° north latitude, and 54° 30' longitude from Paris. It can be proved from astronomical tables that on April 4, B.C. 778, there occurred a solar eclipse in the meridian and parallel of Dehestân, in which 10 digits 10' of the sun’s disc were concealed by the moon’s; it began at 2.23 in the afternoon, and lasted until 5.3 p.m. This calculation not only fixes the period of Nauzer’s reign, but may also serve to fix preceding and future dates in Persian history.’
Shortly after the battle Nauzer was put to death, and the reign of Afrasiâb in Iran commenced; but such tyranny was practised that a rebellion was got up under Zaul, the son of Saum, and Zaub, the son of Tehmasp, the son of Minucheher.* Afrasiâb was defeated, and Zaub placed on the throne B.C. 766, the former having reigned twelve years from B.C. 778. After a reign of thirty years, Zaub resigned B.C. 736 in favour of his brother, or, as some say, his minister Gurshâsf, who also reigned for thirty years, to B.C. 706. ‘A respectable writer tells us that in the majority of histories the dynasty of the Peshdâdian kings ended with Gurshâsf, after whom, by the unanimous consent of all writers, the sovereign power was vested in the Kaiânian line,’ say about B.C. 706.
Though a date has been fixed to the end of the Peshdâdian dynasty, it is to be regretted that no dates can be given to their earlier kings, and also that so little is really known about them. Further discoveries in Egypt and elsewhere may throw some light on the subject. In Egypt it may turn out that this dynasty was connected with the Hyksos, or Shepherd kings, who formed the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth dynasties of the Egyptian kings, and about whom next to nothing as yet is known. It is supposed that they ruled at Sân from B.C. 2214 to 1703, some five hundred years, and that they were foreigners.
Again, further discoveries in India, Assyria, and Babylonia may reveal something more about these Peshdâdians, who may also have made conquests in these countries, or emigrations to them. Mr. Shea, at page 206 of his translation, gives an interesting note, in which it is stated that some of these kings of the Peshdâdian dynasty, such as Jemsheed, Zohâk, and Feridoon, are said to have reigned six hundred, one thousand, and five hundred years respectively. It has been supposed that these names represented dynasties, and ‘to the three dynasties of Jemsheed, Zohâk, and Feridoon, we find among the Greeks the three corresponding dynasties of the Chaldæans, Arabs, and Beletâras, in the series of the kings of Nineveh and Assyria.’ In the first volume of this work, at page 108, Mirkhond mentions Zohâk, the Arab, as living at the time of the prophet Hûd, who lived some time between Noah and Abraham (page 98).
THE KAIÂNIAN DYNASTY.
Of this dynasty, Kaikobad was the first monarch, and his first business appears to have been to declare war against Afrasiâb, whose dynasty it is supposed was still extant, for Afrasiâb himself was dethroned from Iran B.C. 766, or sixty years previously. Anyhow, war was declared, and Rustam Dastan, the great Persian hero, now appears upon the scene, and mainly by his efforts Afrasiâb was defeated, and sued for peace, which was granted. Kaikobad then reigned tranquilly for a very long period, and was succeeded by Kai Kâoos [Cambyses?], some say the son, others the grandson of the first king. Kai Kâoos appears to have been engaged in wars a great part of his life, the descriptions of which occupy some twenty-four pages in Shea’s translation, intermixed with stories about his son Siyâwesh, the hero Rustam, and others. After a long reign he retired to the quiet of a religious life, and was succeeded by his grandson Kai Khusrau [Cyrus?], the son of Siyâwesh, who had been murdered by order of Afrasiâb.
Kai Khusrau appears to have been a great king. He first settled the administrative affairs of his kingdom, and then declared war against Afrasiâb for the murder of his father. The first expedition under his uncle Faribarz ended in defeat, but the second under Gudarz was successful, and after two bloody battles Afrasiâb and his generals were defeated, his capital and country taken, and Afrasiâb himself, after wandering as a fugitive for some time in different parts of the world, was captured and slain. Mirkhond says that after this Kai Khusrau removed from Media to Balkh, and whilst in that country, having made a long speech on the subject of retirement for religious duties, he appointed Lohorasp [Hystaspes?] his successor, and then departed from among the people, and no one ever after found a trace of him. Shea, at page 262 of his translation, gives the following extract from Malcolm’s ‘History of Persia’:
‘The history of Kai Khusrau corresponds in several particulars with the history of Cyrus as given by Herodotus. Siyâwesh was the son of Kai Kâoos, but educated by Rustam. He was compelled by court intrigues to fly to Afrasiâb, the King of Turan [Turkestan], whose daughter he married, and by whom he was afterwards slain. He left a son called Kai Khusrau, whom Afrasiâb resolved to put to death lest he should revenge his father’s death; but this cruel intention was defeated by the humanity of his minister Pirân Wisah, who preserved the child, committed him to the care of a shepherd, and had him educated in a manner suitable to his rank. The young prince afterwards effected his escape to the court of his paternal grandfather, Kai Kâoos, and was placed on the throne of Persia during the lifetime of that monarch. The first act of his reign was to make war upon his maternal grandfather Afrasiâb, whose armies were commanded by Pirân Wisah. This humane minister was defeated and slain; Afrasiâb met with the same fate, and his territories fell into the possession of his victorious grandson. Kai Khusrau, after this conquest and many other achievements, determined to spend the remainder of his days in religious retirement; he proceeded to the spot he had selected, where, we are told, he disappeared; and his train, among whom were some of the most renowned warriors of Persia, perished in a dreadful tempest. This tradition seems to allude to the slaughter of Cyrus and of his whole army by the Scythians under Tomyris.’
Lohorasp [Hystaspes?] is said to have been the grandson of Kai Kâoos’s brother, and it was with some difficulty that Kai Khusrau got the nobles of Iran to consent to the nomination of this person as his successor. Lohorasp had two sons, Gushtasp [Darius Hystaspes] and Zareer, both of whom he rather neglected, ‘distinguishing the sons of Kai Kâoos and those of former princes beyond his own children.’ On this account Gushtasp got up a plot against his father, which being discovered he fled to the territories of Rûm. Here it may be stated that in Oriental histories, Rûm is used as a general and indefinite name given to the countries west of the Euphrates, as far as the shores of the Mediterranean, Bosphorus, and Euxine.
The adventures of Gushtasp, in the kingdom of Rûm, are given at some length, but eventually he returned with an army, and Lohorasp seems to have resigned the throne in his favour. During the reign of Gushtasp, Zerdusht, or Zoroaster, is said to have appeared in Azarbaijan [Media]. Shea gives at page 274 a short memoir respecting the age in which this Zoroaster, the author of the Zenda Vesta, and the reformer of the religion of the Magi, appeared. and fixes the date about the middle of the sixth century, B.C.
It is a question whether Gushtasp himself became a convert to this religion or not. The subject, however, seems to have been a cause of dispute between him and Arjasp, the prince of Turkestan, which led as usual to a bloody war, in which Gushtasp was victorious. Mirkhond then relates the story of Esfendiar [Xerxes?], the son of Gushtasp, first his imprisonment, then his release, his adventures and battles with Arjasp, then his campaigns in the further East, afterwards in the West, and finally his fight with Rustam, by whom he was slain, after each had recounted at length the history of his life and his heroic deeds.
According to an extract from Malcolm’s Persia, at page 310 of Shea’s translation, ‘Esfendiar is reckoned, with some probability, the Xerxes of the Greeks, who led the famous expedition of the Persians into that country. The Greeks always speak of Xerxes as the sovereign of Persia, but Esfendiar never had the name of king, though for a time when viceroy at Balkh he possessed regal power. Besides, it is probable that Esfendiar had been associated in sovereignty by a father who is stated to have always employed him in the command of his armies, and the government of a part of the empire.’
Gushtasp avenged his son’s death in the usual way by battle and slaughter, and then resigned his kingdom to his grandson, Behmen, son of Esfendiar.
The historians of Fars call this prince Darâz Dast, or longhanded, because his authority extended over the Seven Climates, and he is supposed to be the Artaxerxes Longimanus of the Greeks. After avenging his father’s death, it is stated: ‘In the course of his reign Behmen deposed Bakhtanassar’s son from the government of Babel, which he committed to one of Lohorasp’s sons, named Kurêsh, whose mother was descended from the children of Israel; he likewise commanded him to send back the captives of the children of Israel to the territory of the Holy Temple, and to appoint as their governor whomsoever they themselves should select. Kurêsh therefore assembled the children of Israel and appointed Daniel to the government. It is related in some histories that Lohorasp, having deposed Bakhtanassar from the government of Babel, permitted the Israelitish captives to return in order that the kingdom of Shaum [Syria] should be cultivated. They conformed to these orders, and in the days of Behmen had brought the territory of the Holy Temple to the highest state of cultivation; but Behmen, having sent an ambassador to the children of Israel, their king put him to death, which so aroused his indignation, that he commanded Bakhtanassar a second time to lay waste the country of a people who neither obeyed God nor the decrees of the king. Bakhtanassar therefore, setting out with his army, laid the Holy Temple and the region of Shaum entirely waste, and returned to Irak Araby with one hundred thousand young children, whom he had borne away into captivity; but all knowledge is with the Almighty.’
When Behmen became old he committed the empire to the profound talents of his daughter Homai, to the exclusion of his son Sassân, who became a recluse. Homai afterwards bore a child named Dârâh [Darius II.], who succeeded her, and became a great and mighty king, even defeating Filqûs [Philip], Prince of Rûm, obtaining an annual tribute from him, and marrying his daughter, but sending her back to her father on account of her unpleasant breath. ‘At this period the illustrious princess was pregnant with Eskandar [Alexander the Great], and her father, to save his reputation, not only kept the matter from being made public, but endeavoured to suppress the secret altogether.’
Dârâh left the empire to his son Dârâ, or Dârâh, also styled Dârâ the Less, who was defeated by Eskandar, and on the day of his escape from the battle assassinated by two persons of Hamadan belonging to his court. ‘The sovereign of Rûm, being informed of this event, hastened with all speed to the pillow of Dârâ. The heir to the realms of the Kaiânian line, who had still a spark of life remaining, heaved a cold sigh, having contemplated on the pages of his present state the image of his enemies’ exultation, according to the saying: “The life of man, if prolonged even for one day after his enemy’s death, is regarded as a great advantage.” Eskandar placed on his lap the head of Dârâ, and kissing it repeatedly, declared with solemn oaths and sincere protestations: “I was unacquainted with this plot, and never sanctioned such a proceeding.” As Dârâ had received a deadly wound, and all hope of life was now cut off, he therefore entreated Eskandar to retaliate on his assassins, to bind himself in marriage to his daughter Roushang [Roxana], and not invest a stranger with dominion over the princes of Faristân. Eskandar cheerfully accepted these testamentary instructions, and undertook to fulfil all his requests. And so died the last of the Kaiânian kings.
Considerable interest is attached to the Kaiânian, or, as it is called by the Greeks, Archæmenian dynasty, on account of the mention in the Bible of some of its kings under the names of Ahasuerus, Cyrus, Darius, and Artaxerxes. It is difficult to fix the exact date of this line of kings, and it can only be assumed that the dynasty began about 700, and ended about B.C. 330. It is impossible to make out from the Bible a series of correct dates fitting in with the reigns of the four kings named above; neither can these be fixed in any way from Persian historical sources. But supposing that the succession of these Persian kings as given by Mirkhond is correct, and further supposing that Kai Kâoos, Kai Khusrau, Lohorasp, Gushtasp, and Behmen represent Cambyses or Ahasuerus, Cyrus, Hystaspes, Darius and Artaxerxes, it may be fairly imagined that such a line of succession is not opposed to the manner in which the four kings are spoken of in the Old Testament, and that their dates might be something between B C. 650 and 400.
From Persian history it must also be inferred that Sennacherib, Nebuchadnezzar and his son were not independent sovereigns in Babylon and Assyria, but ruled or reigned under the Kaiânian dynasty of Persia. Space will not, however, here admit of any further remarks on this portion of Mirkhond’s history translated by David Shea, and the translation of Mr. E. Rehatsek must now be continued.
RECORD OF ESKANDAR RÛMI [ALEXANDER THE GREAT].
Verses: From his childhood Eskandar courted fame
To gain for knowledge a great name.
By day he practised justice and equity,
From night to morning liberality.
Though devoted to war and strife
He also boasted of foresight in life;
The good with gold and silver he rewarded,
The wicked he entirely discarded.
Learned men he always praised,
And higher than the moon he raised.
In the Greek language the name of Eskandar was ‘Akhshidrûsh, meaning a philosopher, which word is composed of fillâ and sûfa; the former signifies ‘a lover,’ and the latter ‘wisdom.’ Accordingly the word filsûf means ‘a lover of wisdom.’ Some historians and biographers, however, call him Zulqarneen Asghar [Lesser two-horned], because they are of opinion that Zulqarneen Akber [Greater two-horned] was the builder of the rampart, who is mentioned in the glorious Qurân, and whose deeds have been recorded in a former portion of this work.
It is certain from ancient chronicles that Eskandar the Macedonian, who is also called Zulqarneen and Eskandar Rûmi and Yûnâni, was a high potentate, mighty king, and world-conquering sovereign, whose exploits of bravery and liberality are universally known. His victorious army marched from Rûm [Greece] to Khatây [China], to Khotan, and thence to the countries of Hind and Sind, so that his innumerable forces overran mountains and plains, land and seas, and even the ocean. Concerning his birth and epithet of Zulqarneen various opinions are current among historians. Some authorities state that Eskandar was the son of Dârâ the Greater, as has been recorded in the biography of the latter. The same authorities assert that he married Roushang,243 the daughter of Dârâ the Less, but the author of this work believes it to be highly improbable that a God-fearing and religious king would marry the daughter of his brother, unless it be supposed that in former religions such alliances were permitted, which conjecture is likewise not void of improbability. Others relate that Filqûs [Philip] gave his daughter to Azar, the King of Eskandariah [Alexandria], to make an end of the enmity which existed between them, and that some time afterwards the latter dismissed the daughter of the Qaissar for some reason or other when she was pregnant with Eskandar. She was delivered of her son in the desert, and labouring under a hallucination of fear, abandoned her infant. In the vicinity, however, a flock of sheep was grazing, and by the inspiration of the Creator of men a ewe left from time to time the herd and suckled Eskandar. An intelligent old woman in charge of the flock took notice of the periodical absence of the sheep, followed her, and was rejoiced at the discovery of the infant, whom she took to her house and brought him up. When Eskandar had attained the proper age she entrusted him to the care of a teacher, by whom he was in a short time adorned with the decorations of politeness and literary accomplishments. Meanwhile the governor of that country took umbrage at the teacher and ordered him into exile. Accordingly both the teacher and his pupil departed, and travelled, but on a certain day they happened to arrive in the town in which the mother of Eskandar dwelt, and her eyes alighting on the countenance of her son, she recognised him. Accordingly she took him to Filqûs and narrated all the circumstances. The Qaissar perceived the indications of bravery and intelligence radiating from the countenance of Eskandar, and examined him concerning his birth. The youth related everything his old nurse had told him, and it transmuted the conjecture of his mother into certainty, at which all of them rejoiced. Filqûs, having no son of his own, lavished all his care on the education of Eskandar, who soon began to manifest the highest talents, and displayed the greatest skill in all affairs of state, so that Filqûs nominated him his successor.
When the royal diadem received new lustre from being placed on Eskandar’s head, Filqûs ordered the whole army, the servants of government, and all subjects to obey his behests. He also advised Eskandar to govern righteously and according to the religion of Islâm, to cherish learned and religious men, to protect widows and orphans, the poor and the helpless. After Filqûs had terminated his admonition he placed Eskandar on the throne, and put the royal crown on his head.
In historical works other statements occur about the descent of Eskandar, but to mention all of them would be long and tedious. According to the Emâm Shams-ud-din Muhammad Bin Mahmûd Shaharruzi, Eskandar was the true son of Filqûs, and his statement in the Nazhat-ullaruâh runs as follows: After Filqûs had reigned seven years he was suddenly murdered by one of his courtiers named Falûs, who had fallen so violently in love with the spouse of Filqûs and mother of Eskandar that he lost his peace of mind, could find no rest, and abstained even from sleep and food:
Verses: Love subdues even a lion,
And makes him unreasonable;
At times friendship he will show,
At others he is a defiant foe.
Although Falûs offered gold, silver, jewels, and fine clothes to that virtuous lady, and tried various stratagems to initiate an amorous intrigue, her innocence and piety baffled all his attempts. At last he conceived the idea to obtain forcible possession of her by assassinating Filqûs and usurping his kingdom. He watched a long time for an opportunity to execute his unhallowed design, till one day Filqûs despatched an officer with a detachment of warriors to subdue the son of King Fillâtûs, who had rebelled, and sent also Eskandar with troops for the purpose of conquering the city of Berâqûs. When Falûs had ascertained that the army was divided, and that the long-hoped-for opportunity was at hand, he assembled a number of malcontents, with whom he attacked Filqûs so vehemently that when the remainder of the army and the inhabitants of the city came to his aid they found him half killed when they liberated him. Eskandar happened to return on the very day of the attack, and being informed of what had taken place, he hastened to the royal mansion, where he observed Falûs in the act of taking possession of his mother; for fear, however, of wounding her he abstained from making use of his sword. She then exclaimed: ‘If I am the cause of your wavering, know that I am no longer caring for my life, and the sooner you cut down this scoundrel the better.’ Accordingly Eskandar nearly killed him with one blow of his scimitar. After that he hastened to the couch of his father, the sun of whose life he found nearly setting, and said: ‘Arise and exterminate your enemy with this sword.’ Filqûs complied, and killed Falûs with his own hand. Then Filqûs convoked the chiefs of the people and made them inaugurate Eskandar as their king. He likewise called for Aristo [Aristoteles], into whose hands he placed those of Eskandar, and recommended him to advise him; after that he bade farewell to this perishable world.
When Eskandar had terminated the duties of interment and mourning, he rose in the select assembly, and spoke as follows: ‘Know ye, O men, that your king, like his predecessors, has departed this life. I am one of yourselves, and have no power over you. I shall aid you in everything you may undertake, and I shall subordinate my wishes to yours. Consider me as your adviser, and elect someone to be your governor who will obey the Creator most, who will be the most kind to the people, and who will be most merciful to the poor and needy; one who will distribute among you with equity the spoils you gain of war, one who will not be seduced by his passions from the duties he owes to his people; one from whose wickedness you need apprehend nothing, and from whose goodness you may hope much.’ This speech, however, was extremely long, and is recorded in books on practical philosophy.
As those who were present in the assembly had heard words from Eskandar the like of which fell from no other king, they were astonished, and replied as follows: ‘We have heard thy pleasant words, and we shall act according to the advice thou hast given. We entrust the affairs of the state and of the government to thy far-seeing intellect, and we hope thou wilt govern us during many long years with much sagacity and prosperity; for we know of no man more worthy to govern and to protect us than thyself.’ Hereon they arose, and unanimously proclaimed him their king. Eskandar thanked them, sent circulars to all parts of the country inviting all men to acknowledge the unity of God the Most High, and to abstain from idolatry. He also assembled the army, made new appointments therein, regulated the pay, and distributed gifts. When the people saw how he protected the needy, and punished the wicked who transgressed the laws of God, and was in all his dealings righteous, beyond their utmost expectations, they perceived that he would become a great monarch.
As Dârâ, the Emperor of Persia, had been in the habit of levying a yearly tribute of one thousand golden eggs from the father of Eskandar, he now sent ambassadors to receive the customary tax; but Eskandar sent back the answer that the hen which was laying those eggs had died long ago. Although there were at that time many independent kings in Greece, Eskandar managed by kindness and firmness to bring them all under his own control. After that he marched with his victorious banners to the Maghrab [Northern Africa, west of Egypt], the whole of which he subjugated, and then returned to his own country. After that he marched with his glorious army to Egypt, where he built an exceedingly high lighthouse on the shores of the green sea [Mediterranean] in the seventh year of his reign. From that country he marched to Syria, and thence to Armenia. These news made the treacherous Dârâ uneasy, and he sent a mandate to the inhabitants of Fars [a province of Persia] to the following effect: ‘The information has reached his majesty that a certain rebel has collected a number of thieves from all sides. Accordingly you are ordered to capture them with their arms and provisions, and to throw all into the sea, but to send their commander to the imperial court. As the said thief is only a despicable Greek boy, you will have no difficulty in catching him; but if you delay this affair or fail therein, you will not be excused.’ Meanwhile Eskandar departed from Armenia, and established his camp on the shores of the Sea of Astokhus [Azof?], which circumstance still more troubled Dârâ, so that he indited the following letter to Eskandar: ‘From Dârâ, the king of kings in this world, who is shining with the sun, upon the head of Eskandar!’ But after [this preamble]: ‘Be aware that the King of Heaven has granted me dominion over the inhabited world, and has bestowed on me great majesty and power, together with numerous armies! It has been brought to my notice that thou hast gathered around thee a crowd of brigands and thieves, and hast on the strength of their numbers conceived the ambitious hope of subjugating my empire, and of extirpating the reigning dynasty. Such foolish attempts tally well with the stupidity of the Greeks. On the receipt of this letter thou art to repent of thy boldness, and to retrace thy steps. Do not give way to fond imaginations of power and conquest based on thy present wicked attempt; for thou art not yet enrolled in the company of those who are worthy to be addressed or reasoned with by us! Behold, I have sent thee a box full of gold, and a load of sesame grain, that thou mayest form an idea of the wealth and of the army I command. I send thee also a ball to play with, according to thy boyish age, of which it will remind thee; and a scourge to serve for your chastisement.’
When Eskandar had perused and understood the contents of this letter, he summoned the ambassadors to his presence, and called for the executioner to slay them, although he was in reality not inclined to deprive them of their lives. The envoys exclaimed: ‘O king, wilt thou disgrace ambassadors in a manner unheard of in the times of former sovereigns?’ But Zulqarneen replied: ‘Blame your own master, who calls me a thief, and not a king, and I shall act like a thief towards you.’ They continued: ‘Dârâ has neither known nor seen thee, whereas we have had the honour to wait on thee, and have seen thy magnanimity. Have mercy on us, and spare our lives, that we may inform Dârâ of thy wisdom and humanity.’ Eskandar replied: ‘As you have humbled yourselves, and have appealed to my kindness, I shall pardon you.’ Accordingly he ordered the envoys to be released, and treated them kindly, dismissing them with the following letter to Dârâ: ‘From Eskandar to him who pretends to be the king of kings, feared by the hosts of heaven and the denizens of the earth!’ But after [this preamble]: ‘How could such be the case with one who dreads a weak man like Eskandar? Knowest thou not that God bestoweth victory on whom He willest? and that whenever a feeble mortal pretends to be a god, and to overcome the armies of heaven, the Almighty lowers His kingdom to the brink of destruction? How can a mortal, who will die and rot, and will leave his possessions to others, lay claim to be the Deity? I have decided to fight thee, and am marching against thee! I pray to God to grant me the victory, and I worship Him! The letter which thou hast sent me is a record of thy pride, and the gold, with the sesame and the ball and the scourge, I interpret as auspicious signs of success for myself. As for the scourge, it implies that I shall chastise you, that I shall become your king, your master, and your high-priest. The ball indicates that I shall subjugate the whole earth, and the gold means that all thy treasures will fall into my possession. As for sesame, it is very plentiful, and its intrinsic nourishing qualities are neither good nor bad. I send thee a box of mustard-seed, that thou mayest taste its bitterness and know my bravery. Thy pride has deceived thee, but my trust is in God. Farewell.’
This letter Eskandar handed to the ambassadors, whom he presented with the gold which Dârâ had sent him. After dismissing them, Eskandar marched to Azarbaijân, where he put to flight the Governor of Dârâ, and most of his army to the sword. Then he conquered Gaillân, on which occasion he heard that his mother was sick; accordingly he departed to Macedonia, but again returned after her recovery. On that occasion he marched against a certain town belonging to Dârâ, but as the inhabitants had closed the gates, he set fire to the place, whereon they cried for mercy, and having been promised lenient treatment, they came out with all kinds of fruits and provisions, which they presented to Eskandar. Then he marched to Fârs, where Dârâ met him with an army more numerous than the leaves of trees. The centre of Eskandar’s army consisted of warriors dressed in coats of mail, and when both armies met, they resembled the waves of the Indian Ocean, or two mountains of steel. The air became darkened by the clouds which the soldiers raised, and the clanking of trumpets resembled an earthquake, so that the people imagined the heavens were being rent asunder. The Greek champions rushed to the attack with the shout: ‘Aid comes from Allah, and victory is at hand!’244 The fire of the battle commenced to rage, and the scimitars, which resembled lightning, rained blood. The fight lasted from noon till sunset, at which time Dârâ, perceiving that his best generals had been slain, and his army routed, likewise fled with his staff of courtiers, and left the countless treasures with the stores of war, wherewith he had threatened his antagonist, in the possession of Eskandar. Dârâ took the lead in the flight across a frozen river, and was followed by the remnant of his army; but the ice soon gave way, and great numbers of it perished in the floods. When Dârâ arrived in his capital, he decided that it would be best to propitiate his antagonist, as he was cognizant of the humane disposition of Eskandar. Accordingly he indited a letter, offering to ransom his wife, son, and daughters from Eskandar with all the treasures his ancestors had left him. After Eskandar had perused the letter, he marched towards Dârâ, who, nevertheless, sought refuge with Fûr [Porus], the King of India, who aided him with several thousands of brave warriors, consisting both of infantry and of cavalry, and in comparison to the battle which now ensued, the first had been, as it were, but a child’s play. On this occasion two of Dârâ’s courtiers were led astray by the baseness of their nature, and by their faithlessness, to conceive the idea of killing their master, on the supposition that they would thereby ingratiate themselves with Eskandar. But Dârâ, who had become aware of their design, reproached them with their ingratitude, and said: ‘Be aware that such a deed will profit you nothing with Eskandar, because, although kings may be at enmity with each other, they never fail to slay regicides.’ The two miscreants, however, remained deaf to all entreaties, and brought down with their swords Dârâ from the horse which he was riding, Before the King of Persia had expired, Eskandar happened to arrive, and alighting from his charger, looked at the sovereign who had once worn a diadem, wiped the dust from his face, took his head on his own knees, wept, and spoke as follows: ‘O king, who lovest me not, and art proud, I swear by the God of heaven and earth that I shall reinstate thee into thy kingdom, and restore to thee all thy treasures. Arise and forget what is past. Do not complain of thy misfortunes, because kings ought in their troubles to be more patient than other men. Inform me who were the perpetrators of this deed, that I may punish them.’ Dârâ kissed the hand of Eskandar, placed it on his face, moaned, and said: ‘O Zulqarneen, yield by no means to the suggestions of pride and tyranny, neither be deceived by the pomp of royalty, since thou hast seen what has become of me. Trust not in prosperity, and be aware of the treachery of this world, which is ever changing. I beseech thee to treat my mother as if she were thy own, my wife as if she were thy sister, and to marry my daughter Roushang.’ Eskandar complied with these requests, and after a few minutes Dârâ expired. Zulqarneen then ordered the corpse to be washed with musk and amber, to be dressed in gold and silver embroidered garments, and to be placed in a sarcophagus, adorned with precious stones and jewels. The corpse was accompanied to the Dukhmâ,245 as the last resting-place, by an escort of ten thousand men with drawn swords in front of the coffin, with as many in the rear, on the right, and on the left side of it, Eskandar himself assisting in the procession with the princes and grandees of Persia.
After the termination of the funeral ceremony, Eskandar caused the two murderers of Dârâ to be crucified on two crosses opposite to the Dukhmâ, and ordered his whole army to march in single file between the two crosses. Then he married Roushang, and installed the brother of Dârâ over Fârs, appointing him to be the chief of the ninety-nine governors, who were surnamed the kings of the nations [Mulûk-ut-touâif]. By order of Eskandar, the books on medicine, astronomy and philosophy were translated from the language of Persia into that of Greece, and conveyed to that country. He burnt the religious books of the Magi, and destroyed their fire-temples, removing the priests of that blameworthy religion.
Meanwhile the following letter arrived from his mother: ‘From Ruqiâ to the weak Eskandar, who has by the favour of God the Most High overcome his enemies and subjugated their country!’ After these words she wrote: ‘My son, abstain from vanity and tyranny, because these two qualities will bring thee down from heaven to earth. Be on thy guard from covetousness and indulgence in passions, because they lead to perdition. Send all the spoils which have fallen into thy power in that country to me, with a swift courier.’ When Eskandar had perused this letter, he consulted his wise men on the important subject mentioned at the end of the letter; but when they all confessed their inability to explain it, and Eskandar ordered a list of places containing treasures to be drawn up, and sent it to Greece to his mother by a courier, they manifested their admiration at his acuteness, and praised him greatly.
About this time he built a great city near the river Jaihûn, and ordered persons from all regions to settle in that country, which he named Marjâlûs; but it is related that he founded also the cities of Hirat and Samarqand. After completing these affairs, he marched to India, through arduous passes and precipitous mountains, till he reached the capital of Fûr [Porus], the Indian, to whom he sent the following letter: ‘O ruler of the country of India, be aware that the Lord Most High — whose name be hallowed—has entrusted me with the duty of governing the inhabitants of the world, and has confided the reins of political and religious affairs to my management. He has exalted my power to the highest zenith of the spheres, and has caused me to trample under foot all who rebel against me. I hereby invite thee to worship the Creator of men and genii, and prohibit thee from paying homage to any other gods. Act up to this advice, and send to my camp the idols in whose adoration thou hast spent thy life and treasure, and be ready to pay tribute to me. Comply with these injunctions, or else I shall devastate thy country with fire and sword.’
When the letter of Zulqarneen arrived at the capital of Fûr, he received it with scorn, and sent back its bearer. Accordingly Eskandar prepared to attack Fûr, and taking refuge with the mercy of the forgiving sovereign, commenced his march. Fûr hastened to meet him with his Indians, a great number of battle-elephants, and wild animals. When Eskandar perceived his antagonists, he was struck with confusion, and knew not how he should fight the Indians, considering that they had elephants and beasts of prey to aid them. He consulted his sages, and men of experience on this subject, but could elicit no advice from them. At last, however, he was divinely inspired to collect all his artisans, and to order them to construct twenty thousand hollow figures of iron, brass, and other metals, all of which they made in the shape of warriors, but filled their cavities with wood and naphtha. When Fûr made his attack, all these figures were put on fire, so that his elephants, leopards, tigers, and lions rushed against them, but getting entangled, took to flight, whereon the Greek soldiers despatched untold numbers of the antagonists of the religion with the sword, and prostrated them from their saddles to the ground, so that Fûr was compelled to retire within the fortifications of his city.
The next day countless multitudes arrived from the surrounding countries of Hindustân, so that he was again emboldened to sally out, and to try his chance in open battle. This contest lasted twenty days, and champions issued from both parties, who fought in single combat with sword and spear, killing and maiming each other in great numbers. When Eskandar saw that he had in this way lost many of his best warriors, he became depressed in mind, and sent the following message to Fûr: ‘What glory can a sovereign reap who daily jeopardizes the lives of many of his warriors, which he is able to spare, if he be only willing? If, therefore, thou art willing, we can make an end to this strife, without the interposition of armed forces, and will thereby for our common advantage save the lives of those unhappy men who are endangering them for our sakes.’ Fûr was amazed at this proposal [or, rather, challenge to a duel], because he was of a large and robust stature, whereas Eskandar was rather small and of a contemptible aspect. He therefore gladly accepted the call, and hastened alone into the lists, like a furious lion. Eskandar galloped forward to meet him, and the two kings began their single combat. Whilst they were fighting together Fûr heard a terrible sound—which was in reality the summons for his departure from this world—in his rear, and whilst he turned his head in the direction of it, Eskandar made use of the opportunity, and lifting him out of the saddle with one stroke of the sword, sat down on his breast, and severed his proud head with the scimitar from his body. In consequence of this event, the lamentations of the Hindus became so extravagant that they rose to the uppermost firmament, and their exasperation so great that they resolved to die in battle. Eskandar, however, soon convinced them that after the death of their king it would be useless to contend with him, and that, as his disposition was very humane, they had nothing to fear from him. All the possessions and treasures of Fûr had fallen into the power of Eskandar, who liberally distributed gifts among all men, and ordered the corpse of Fûr to be buried with great honours.
After that Eskandar marched to the Brahmans, concerning the greatness of whose knowledge and abstinence from the vanities of this world he had heard much. When the Brahmans had been informed of the approach of Eskandar, they sent him the following letter: ‘If the cause of your majesty’s visiting us be a wish for riches, we inform you that we are all poor and destitute. Our food consists only of grass, and our garments of the skins of animals. But if you are in search of knowledge, of what use is all your pomp and circumstance?’ When Eskandar had perused this letter, he ordered the army to remain stationary, and proceeded with a few courtiers to pay a visit to the Brahmans. He found them to be poor and dwelling in mountain-caves, their wives and children being engaged in procuring herbs from the plains. He held many conversations and disputations with the Brahmans on scientific and philosophical subjects, and conceived great esteem for them. He offered them as much treasure and property as they wanted, but they replied: ‘We want you to bestow on us only perpetual existence and eternal life.’ Eskandar replied: ‘To grant such a request is in the power of no man, and the prolongation of my own life not being in my power, that of another is still less so.’ The Brahmans continued: ‘As your majesty is convinced that every profession is subject to decline, and every prosperity must pass away, why have you undertaken to slay men, to devastate countries, and to collect treasures, all of which you must in course of time again abandon?’ Eskandar replied: ‘I am commanded by the Most High—whose name be glorified—to promulge the true religion and the straight way, to exterminate infidels, and to punish wicked men. Had I not been appointed to this mission by the Creator, I would not have left my home; but I am bound to execute His behests, until the time of my death arrives, when I shall depart from this world in the same manner in which I have entered it.’ After similar conversations, Eskandar bade farewell to the Brahmans, and returned to his camp.
In some chronicles it is recorded that after Zulqarneen had vanquished Fûr, he heard that at the other extremity of India there lived a king whose name was Kyd, a sovereign endowed with prudence, justice, and piety, whose realm was in a high state of culture, and subjects civilized. He was said to have governed his army and his subjects in such a manner as to have brought even their sexual and irascible passions under his control, and his age had exceeded nearly three hundred years. Eskandar despatched couriers to him with the following message: ‘When my ambassador reaches thee, sit not down if thou art standing; and if thou be on a journey, make haste, or else thou shalt feel my wrath, like many other countries of Hindustân.’ When the envoys arrived at the court of Kyd, he received them with great honours, and called Eskandar the king of kings whenever he had occasion to mention his name. With the returning ambassadors he despatched the following message to Eskandar: ‘I possess things not existing in the treasury of any king. I have a virgin of unparalleled beauty, a philosopher able to answer all questions, a physician incomparable in the art of maintaining health, and a goblet which always remains full, even if the whole world were to drink therefrom. All these I present to his majesty, with the request to excuse me from personal attendance on account of my age and weakness; but if it must be, I shall make my appearance at his court.’ After perusing this epistle, Eskandar was astonished at the rarities mentioned, and sent learned men to Kyd, to see whether the reality tallied with the statement contained therein. The philosophers departed, arriving in due time at the residence of Kyd, the Hindu sovereign, who received them kindly, and held on the third day a great festival, in which he caused the Greek scholars to sit at his right and the Hindus at his left hand. They carried on scientific discussions with each other, after the termination whereof the Greeks asked for the promised gifts, which Kyd readily delivered to them, together with many other presents of fine clothes and curiosities. On their arrival at the court of Eskandar, they brought him the above-mentioned gifts, and he admired first of all the great beauty of the lady; then he set about trying the philosopher as follows: He sent him a jug full of oil. Into this the philosopher looked, and after dropping many needles into it, sent it back to Eskandar. The latter then ordered the needles to be melted into a ball, which he despatched to the philosopher, who shaped it into a mirror, which having been brought to Eskandar, he threw it into a basin full of water, and despatched it to the sage, who thereon shaped the mirror into a cup, which he caused to swim in the basin, and sent it back to Eskandar, who in his turn filled the cup with earth, and despatched it to the sage. When the philosopher perceived the earth he wept, lamented, glanced up to the sky, manifested signs of grief and repentance, but at last beckoned to the messenger to take away the basin with the cup to Eskandar. Zulqarneen was much astonished, but communicated the mystery to no one.
The next day Eskandar assembled his court, and ordered the Hindu philosopher, with whom he had not yet had a personal interview, to be brought to his presence. He found the sage to be of a tall stature and robust constitution, and conjectured that such qualities were not peculiar to philosophers, but nevertheless thought within himself that if, in conjunction with them, this individual was also endowed with acuteness of intellect and quickness of perception, he must be a great phenomenon of his time. The philosopher guessed the surmise of Eskandar, drew his finger around his countenance, and then placed it on his nose. When Zulqarneen asked for the meaning of this pantomime, the sage replied: ‘I have understood the thoughts of his majesty concerning my physical appearance, and have by my motions indicated that, in the same manner, as there is but one nose in a man’s countenance, so I am a paragon without an equal in the world.’
Eskandar: Tell me what I meant by the goblet of oil?
Philosopher: I understood that your majesty intended thereby to convey to me the message that your majesty’s mind is so filled with knowledge and wisdom as not to allow of any further increase, in the same manner as the goblet was incapable to hold any more of the liquid. But by dropping the needles into the oil, I indicated that your majesty might possibly add more to the treasures of knowledge accumulated in your mind, in the same manner as there was still room for the needles in the goblet full of oil.
Eskandar: What was the meaning of the ball?
Philosopher: By the ball your majesty intended to convey the following message: My heart is so fully engrossed with warlike and political affairs, that it is isolated from all other matters in the same manner as the rotundity and compactness of the ball, and is incapable of engaging in philosophical researches. By forming that ball into a mirror I indicated that, although iron is hard and compact, it may by careful treatment be made capable of receiving on its polished surface the images of visible objects.
Eskandar: Tell me the signification of my placing the mirror into the basin of water, and of the goblet you caused to float thereon?
Philosopher: I understood the sinking of the mirror in the water to mean that our lives terminate after a short time, and that much knowledge cannot be acquired during that brief season. By fabricating the cup I implied that, in the same manner as by skill a substance which sinks in the water may be made to float thereon, so also great acquisitions of knowledge may be gained in a short time by diligence and perseverance.
Eskandar: I filled the cup with earth, and sent it to you, but received no answer!
Philosopher: The fall of every kingdom must ensue in course of time; there is no permanent abode on earth for any created beings, all of whom must finally rejoin their mother-earth.
Eskandar: You have spoken the truth, and I consider the circumstance of having met you to be the greatest advantage I have obtained from my coming to the country of India.
After this conversation Zulqarneen honoured the philosopher by presenting him with costly dresses of honour and rare gifts, whereby he exalted him above all his contemporaries and friends. Masu’di relates that this philosopher remained in attendance on Eskandar during his whole sojourn in India, and that on the departure of the latter he asked his majesty for a lock of hair, which request was graciously complied with.
It is related that Zulqarneen filled the [above-described wonderful] goblet with water, and caused everybody to drink therefrom without its contents being diminished. He also examined the physician, and received from him wonderful explanations concerning the art of healing, to such an extent that it would be impossible to record them.
In the Târikh-i-Hukmâ it is narrated that after his conquest of India Eskandar departed, and marched to China, with the emperor of which country he waged a great war until he finally subjugated him. This new vassal thereon sent the following presents: ‘One thousand mauns of pure gold, one thousand pieces of white silk cloth, five thousand robes of gold brocade, one hundred swords with hilts, inlaid with precious stones, the sight of which amazed those who beheld them; one hundred horses that vied with the wind in celerity; one hundred saddles, embroidered with costly gems; one hundred heaps of pale amber, one thousand misqâls of musk, nine rattals of lignum-aloe, many vessels of porcelain, pictures and figures, which persons who once saw them would never dismiss from their hearts; skins of sables, beavers, and ermines, several thousands of each kind, together with many other things. These offerings the Emperor of China delivered with great apologies, and obtained in return a written treaty from Eskandar to guide the Chinese in their dealings. After terminating his expedition to China, Zulqarneen vanquished all the countries of the East, and regulated the taxes which they were to pay; and, lastly, having founded several cities in Turkestan, he hastened Westwards.
CONSULTATION OF ESKANDAR WITH ARISTO [ARISTOTELES]
CONCERNING THE ROYAL PRINCES OF PERSIA.
It is related in the Târikh Moa’jum that when Eskandar subjugated the countries of Persia he captured and imprisoned many Persian princes, and said to Aristo on that occasion: ‘I have conquered Persia, not by my own prowess, but I have attained that happiness by the aid and favour of God. I incited good people to walk in the straight path, and pointed out to the ignorant the lights of guidance. In governing my subjects I have followed the directions of reason and have never overstepped its landmarks. But I entertain misgivings concerning the royal scions whom I have imprisoned, for if I liberate them they may possibly excite troubles, which I would be unable to quell; but if I slay them I shall be blamed in this, and punished in the next, world.’ Aristo replied: ‘The surmises of your majesty are quite true; therefore it will be expedient to appoint each of them over a separate portion of the kingdom, and to make them independent of each other, in order to forestall any coalition among them.’ Eskandar fully approved of the opinion of the philosopher, and installed each prince over a division of the realm. Historians call these princes Mulûk-ut-touâif [i.e., kings of the nations], whose history will be inserted in this work after the record of the philosophers, in conformity with the exalted mind [of A’li Shir, the Amir of Hirat], if it pleaseth Allah the Most High.
At the end of the Tarjumâi Hukmâ it is related that during his marches Eskandar happened to arrive in a village the houses whereof were all of the same height, and each of which contained a ready-made sepulchre, and the inhabitants had neither a governor nor a Qâzi. When Eskandar examined them on these subjects, they replied: ‘Men are always vying with each other, who will be greater; but no such rivalry exists among us, therefore all the houses are equal, and we require no magistrate. We keep the graves before our eyes to remind us of death, and of the transitoriness of this life.’246 Eskandar continued: ‘If I were to give you a more agreeable place than this, would you emigrate to it?’ They replied: ‘We request your majesty to ward off death from us.’ Eskandar said: ‘If such a thing were in the power of any man, it would be in mine.’ They continued: ‘As so powerful a king is unable to aid us in this matter, we would pray that we be allowed to remain in the position we are, for there is some pleasure to live in the place where we were born and educated.’
It is also related that during his conquests Eskandar arrived in a city which had been governed by seven kings, the sons succeeding their fathers. When Eskandar asked whether any one of that dynasty was yet alive, he obtained the information that a young man, who had abdicated the kingdom, was dwelling in the cemetery. Eskandar then paid him a visit with some of his courtiers, asked him why he had abandoned the royal power, dwelt in the burying-ground, and had no desire to engage in government affairs. The royal prince observed: ‘O king! I am occupied with a business which entirely absorbs my attention, so that I can spare none for the affairs of government.’ Zulqarneen said: ‘If you are engaged in anything besides the contemplation of rotten bones let me know it.’ The royal prince said: ‘When I considered the world and its transitoriness I kept aloof from mankind, and selected a cemetery for my abode. It is a long time since I am trying to separate the bones of kings from those of slaves and mean persons, but I am unable to do so.’ Zulqarneen replied: ‘Such a distinction no one can make except God the Most High. If, however, you promise allegiance to me I shall restore you to the rank of your ancestors.’ The youth said: ‘My aim is higher! I seek life without death, youth without old age, riches without poverty, joy without grief, a lover without fraud, and society without ennui.’ Eskandar rejoined: ‘How can you ask these things from me?’ The prince said: ‘I seek them from Him with whom I can find them.’
On a certain occasion his grandees said to Eskandar: ‘Your majesty’s realm is very extensive, and you ought, for the sake of begetting a copious progeny, to court the society of women, that your dominions may not fall into the possession of strangers.’ Zulqarneen replied: ‘It is not proper that one who had always been accustomed to vanquish men should be conquered by women.’ One day a man dressed in rags arrived at his court, who began to deliver a very fluent and highly eloquent speech; Eskandar, however, gave him an unfavourable answer, and said: ‘If thou hadst dressed thy body in garments as elegant as the expressions of thy address, it would have been better.’ The man replied: ‘Your servant has a great command of words, but not of clothes.’ This sally pleased Eskandar highly, and he presented him with a rich dress.
In one of his battles a multitude of women attacked him, but he refrained from hurting them, and said: ‘Verily this is an army, of the victory over which we would not be allowed to boast if we happened to gain it, and if we should be conquered by it—which God forbid—we would reap nothing but the deepest shame, and our defeat would survive as a proverb till the end of all time.’
Zaitûn the poet asked one day ten thousand dinars from Eskandar, who replied: ‘This sum exceeds somewhat thy deserts.’ The poet rejoined: ‘But it falls much below the resources of your majesty.’ Then Eskandar granted him the money.
Eskandar asked a sage what the constant occupation of a king ought to be. The philosopher replied: ‘He ought to meditate all night on the means for procuring happiness to his subjects, and ought to be engaged all day in carrying those means into practice.’ When Eskandar was asked in what cases he took most pleasure to exert his power, he replied: ‘In cases which enable me to augment the resources and power of individuals who have acted well towards me.’ On being expostulated with for exposing his person to danger in battle, he answered: ‘It is not right that others should jeopardize their lives for my sake whilst I keep aloof from danger.’ On a certain occasion two of his courtiers quarrelled with each other, and requested him to settle the dispute. He replied: ‘If I give judgment it will certainly be in favour of one of you, and to the disadvantage of the other; but a sense of duty will keep both of you thankful and at peace with each other.’ When a battle was impending with Dârâ, some of Eskandar’s advisers tried to dissuade him from engaging in the combat, and stated that the army of the enemy amounted to more than three hundred thousand men, but he replied: ‘A quick and dexterous butcher is never afraid of a multitude of sheep.’ Being asked why he loved his teacher more than his father, he said: ‘The former is the cause of my eternal, and the latter of my present life; one has pulled me down from heaven to earth, and the other is guiding me from earth to heaven.’ When some of his generals requested Eskandar to attack the Persian army in the night, by way of surprise, he replied: ‘I do not mean to conquer the enemy by stratagem and unawares.’
The following are some of the maxims attributed to Eskandar: ‘A man of noble disposition is honoured even in his poverty, and a mean fellow is despised even if he be rich.’ Being asked what is bad, he replied: ‘To speak about a thing and not to do it’; and being asked what is good, he said: ‘To do a thing before speaking about it.’ He also said: ‘A man stands more in need of sense than of wealth.’
RECORD OF THE DEATH OF ESKANDAR.
According to the horoscope of Eskandar, the astrologers had predicted that at the time of his majesty’s death the earth beneath him would be of iron, and the sky above him of gold. After Eskandar had terminated his conquests, and was on his march back to Greece, he happened in the vicinity of Qômus to be somewhat in advance of his baggage; and being suddenly attacked by a violent hemorrhage, there was no other remedy but to use the coat of mail of one of the generals as his bed, and his golden buckler as an umbrella, to ward off the rays of the sun. On this occasion Eskandar said: ‘Here is the earth of iron and the heaven of gold, as foretold by the astrologers, and my life has reached its term.’
Distich: Alas! the stock of youth is spent;
I know not how it came, nor how it went.
Then Eskandar called for a scribe, and indited to him the following epistle to his mother: ‘This is the letter of the servant of God, Eskandar—who has for a short time associated with the inhabitants of this, but will for ever remain with those of the next world—to his mother, whom he has never forgotten during his absence in foreign countries, and whom he will, God willing, rejoin in the world of light and of joy, where he will never be separated from her any more.’ This, however, is a long letter, and is recorded in detail in large historical works.
When the great conqueror departed this life, and answered the summons of his Creator, his august body was, according to his own injunctions, after the customary ablution and shrouding, placed into a sarcophagus of gold, which the chiefs took up and carried into the assembly of the people, wherein one of the generals arose and spoke as follows: ‘If anyone be inclined to weep, let him weep on account of the decrees of God; and if anyone wishes to be amazed, let him be astonished at the decrees of God concerning the death of our king.’ After these words he turned to the philosophers and requested them to say something for the consolation of the high and the low people. Accordingly one of the disciples of Aristo rose, and taking hold of the hand of Eskandar—which had by his own command been left without the coffin, to inform the people that, as he had arrived with empty hands in the world, he also departed therefrom in the same way—and placing it on his head, he spoke as follows: ‘O sweet-spoken orator, what has made thee so dumb? What has, despite of thy vast stores of knowledge and wisdom, decoyed thee like heedless game into this narrow prison-house? Yesterday Eskandar concealed silver and gold from the sight of men, and to-day fate conceals Eskandar like silver and gold from theirs! This is he who was but yesterday the powerful sovereign of mankind, whom all feared to address; to-day all may speak to him, but he has not the power to hear or to reply. This is the monarch who encompassed the east and the west by his conquests, but now he is encompassed by two yards of earth. Yesterday Eskandar had governed the world by the breath of his nostrils, but to-day he is incapable of taking care of himself. Praise be therefore to Him, besides whom nothing else can endure!’
After each philosopher had said something, according to the measure of his ability, the corpse of Eskandar was despatched to Eskandaria [Alexandria], the inhabitants whereof came forth to meet it with great solemnity. When the mother of Zulqarneen beheld the remains of her son, she wept bitterly, and exclaimed: ‘O darling of my soul, whose wisdom and knowledge reached heaven, and who has subjugated the world! I wonder how he has fallen asleep and cannot awake? How is he so silent and utters not a word? Who will tell it to Zulqarneen, that as he has given me advice, I received it; that he gave me consolation, and I was comforted; that he had recommended to me patience, and I bore with everything?’ At these words a company of wise men made their appearance, and proffering their condolence, delivered suitable speeches, full of salutary advice, and committed the body to the earth. When the sorrowing mother of Eskandar returned to her house, she had prepared a funeral repast, together with the great ladies of the realm, according to the testamentary injunction of her son, that only such persons should partake of the food who had never experienced grief and sorrow from the loss of relatives by death. But there being no individual among all present who had not to deplore the loss of some member of his family, everyone rose without touching the meal; and when the mother of Eskandar had been informed of this circumstance, she inferred that her son’s injunction implied a consolation, and that she ought to restrain her grief, because innumerable persons had to mourn for similar reasons, according to the proverb: ‘When the evil is universal, it abates.’ Therefore she moderated her sorrow, and, bowing to the Divine will, said: ‘Eternal life belongs to God alone’; and, ‘He is the living One, who neither decreases nor dies’; and, ‘Unto Allah we belong, and to Him we must surely return.’247
In the Târikh Hukmâ it is recorded that Eskandar’s physiognomy resembled neither that of his father nor of his mother, that his complexion was yellowish, that one of his eyes was black and the other blue, and that one of them always looked upwards, whilst the other was cast down. His teeth were small but sharp, and his countenance resembled that of a lion. He was distinguished by valour from childhood, and began to reign in his nineteenth year. The duration of his government amounted to seventeen years, nine whereof he spent in turmoil and war, but eight in rest and tranquillity of heart. He attained dominion over twenty-two large kingdoms in the east, west, south and north. He had among his relatives thirteen kings, who served him in person at all times. He travelled in two years over the greater part of the inhabited world, and examined all its curiosities, the description whereof would take up a long time. With three hundred and seventy thousand men he conquered the entire East and West, but was at last compelled to leave the dominion of the world to others, and could, of all the treasures which he had acquired, at last take nothing with him except a few yards of cloth. ‘Every age hath its book [of revelation]. Allah shall abolish and shall confirm [what he pleaseth]. With Him is the original of the book.’
It is related in the Ghoniah that there is a difference of opinion concerning the name of Eskandar. Some assert that he was called Zulqarneen [two-horned] because he was a prophet sent to a nation, but that he was accused of falsehood, struck upon one of the horns [i.e., temples] of his head and slain; that, however, God resuscitated him, and he was surnamed Zulqarneen; and this tradition is ascribed to A’li. It is also said that he was thus called because God had sent him to one section of a nation which accused him of falsehood, but was destroyed by God, who then despatched him to another section. Some assert that he had been surnamed Zulqarneen because the temporal sides of his head were of copper, but according to others of brass, or iron, or gold. God, however, is most wise! Wuhub Bin Muniah states that he was called Zulqarneen because he possessed Persia and Rûm; it is also said because he reached the horns [i.e, extremities] of the world, namely, in the East and the West. It is also related that he had dreamt of having taken hold of the horns [i.e., both sides] of the sun, and that, having asked interpreters, they informed him of his going to become the lord of the whole earth. It is also said that he had two protuberances on his head, which were called horns. Here ends the quotation from the Ghoniah. Others maintain that he was called Zulqarneen because he reigned sixty years, which make two generations. Others insist that he was called thus because he had two long ears. There are yet other opinions, which [if inserted] would only carry this discussion to an undue length.
BIOGRAPHIES OF PHILOSOPHERS.248
Let it not remain unknown to the intelligent reader that the author of this work was for a long time hesitating where to insert the lives of the philosophers, so as not to incur criticism; having, however, been unable to arrive at a decision, he submitted to the sunlike mind of the exalted Amir, that if Eskandar and Aristo were now living, they would imitate him in the protection of learned men and philosophers, whereon his highness — flattered by the compliment in conformity with his good nature—immediately replied: ‘As most of the celebrated philosophers, such as Aflatûn [Plato] and Aristo, were contemporaries of Eskandar, and in personal attendance upon him, because he cherished them more than any former kings, therefore it will be suitable to append also their biographies to his own.’ As the author fully agreed with this opinion, he commences the task, and premises the following two distichs, alluding to our excellent Amir:
Though coins do not bear your name,
It is imprinted on our hearts;
Sea and land pervades your fame
Without the herald’s clumsy arts.
As the Emâm Shams-ud-din Muhammad Shaharûzzi— may Allah give rest to his spirit—the author of the Târikh Hukmâ, begins his work called Nuzhat-ulqulûb [Hearts’ Delight], which contains the biographies of philosophers, with the lives of Adam, of Sheth [Seth], and of Edris [Enoch], the author of the present work has followed his precedent without dreading to incur the reproach of iteration.
ADAM.
The above-named Emâm relates that on the first day, namely, on the day of Saturn, after the inhabitants of the earth had been destroyed by the deluge, Adam made his appearance, and was the first man who invented various handicrafts, together with the tools necessary for their pursuits, and who taught them to his children. The same author states that he had seen various literary compositions of Adam—peace be on him—and had profited by their perusal. He also relates that Adam lived a very long time, enjoyed great power, as well as high dignity, and was, moreover, the first of the prophets and apostles of God.
SHETH—GREETING TO HIM.
Sheth was the son of Adam, and the teacher of Edris [Enoch]. The Sabians acknowledge him to be a prophet, and consider themselves to be his descendants. They possess a book consisting of one hundred and twenty chapters, which they call the first [collection of] Psalms. The following are some of the sayings of Sheth: ‘The best of pleasures is an open heart and a noble mind.—The best deeds and words are those which entail praise in this, and salvation in the next world.—Silence is better than conversation with fools, and solitude is better than the company of the wicked.’ Sheth was one of the sons of Adam, the youngest in age, but the greatest in intellect.
The following are also of his sayings: ‘He whom God has distinguished by wealth and prosperity, ought not to be proud, nor to exalt himself above others, and ought only by his good acts to incline the needy to be thankful and humble towards him, because the rich and the poor are equal in the sight of God, and bound to serve Him.— When you are angry, restrain your tongue from uttering words which will afterwards cause you to blush for shame. —The greatest misfortune of a man is his want of prudence and wisdom, and his remissness in trying to acquire them. —The acts of a man are the index of his character, and not his fine clothes, nor large body.—He is an intelligent king who abstains from manifesting antagonism towards another king who is not able to resist him.’
ASFILSÛF.
He was one of the disciples of Edris—o. w. p.—always accompanied him, and greatly profited in wisdom from that mine of prophecy. When Edris had returned from India, and arrived in Persia, he sent Asfilsûf to Babel to establish the ordinances and commandments of religion, in which mission he laboured for a long time, elevating the banners of the religion, until he bade farewell to life in accordance with the decree of fate. The following are some of his sayings: ‘A learned man without works, and a pious man without knowledge, resemble the donkey who toils day and night turning a millstone, but is not aware for what purpose he is doing so.—It is better for one’s reputation to miss aid altogether, than to ask it from a person unable to afford it.—I am astonished at him who abstains from eating noxious food for fear of disease, but refrains not from transgressions, which will bring upon him punishment in the next world.’
SOLON THE PHILOSOPHER.
He was born in Atheneh, which is known as the city of sages, and was the grandfather of the noble Aflatûn. He was so eloquent of speech that the people called his words the openers of hearts. He nevertheless fled, being persecuted by the mob, and quaffed during his exile the beverage of death in conformity with the saying: ‘Every soul must taste death.’ Some of his maxims are as follows: ‘The best thing in the power of kings is the alleviation of the bitterness of punishments, and the lightening of the burdens of the people.—When a man falls into distress he is not to consult a poverty-stricken wretch on the best manner of bettering his circumstances, because the advice of such a person will tend more to evil than to good.’ Having been asked the following [three] questions: Who is liberal? what is worse than the sword? and what ought to be the chastisement of a parricide? he replied: ‘He is liberal who gives away what he himself covets, and covets no other man’s property. The tongues of those orators and poets who perpetuate a man’s bad repute are worse than swords; but as for a parricide, I never thought about one, and I know of no chastisement suitable for him.’ One day he said to a man pluming himself on his wealth: ‘No one is able to deprive me of my wealth either by force or by flattery, and the more I spend of it, the more fruit it bears, and no diminution of the original stock ensues. Your wealth will, however, some day be enjoyed by others, and spending decreases it. Worldly goods are perishable, and eternal salvation cannot be acquired except by doing good to others, and abstaining from indulgence in passions.’ His abstemiousness and trust in Providence were such that he never dared to keep a greater store of provisions than was sufficient to maintain him more than one day. When he was told that the king harboured enmity towards him, he replied: ‘Is there a king in existence who does not hate a man more independent and happy than himself?’
FITHAGHORATH [PYTHAGORAS] THE SAGE.
He was a native of Sûr [Sidon], and was a great traveller. He advised people to acquire knowledge and to practise it; to be just, amicable, refraining from sin, eager to become acquainted with the physical properties of all substances, to practise love and friendship towards each other, and to live innocently. He taught people to fight infidels, to sit on chairs, to be diligent in reading instructive books, and to educate their females. He also broached the doctrine of the immortality of the soul after its separation from the body, and its capability of enjoying in that state pleasure, or suffering pain, and obtaining rewards or punishments. He never gave way to excess in any passion, nor did anyone ever see him weep or laugh. He was the first who advocated community of possessions among friends. He taught philosophy by enigmas, and kept it secret. When the inhabitants of Sûr emigrated on account of the occupation of their country by enemies, the father of Fithaghorath went with his children and friends to the town of Sûs, and lived there for some time with honour and dignity. From Sûs they afterwards travelled to Antaqiah, the governors of which city adopted Fithaghorath as their son, and entrusted him to a tutor, who instructed him in the science of language, the humanities, and music. When he had attained the age of discretion, he was sent to Malitûn, who was one of the greatest philosophers, and he remained with him till his thirtieth year, to study geometry and astronomy. When he had attained proficiency in these sciences, he followed his impulse to study philosophy, in the pursuit whereof he travelled to many cities. Having gone to Egypt, he cultivated intercourse with the priests of that country, and zealously applied himself to the study of various philosophical problems. From the said priests he learnt also three different kinds of writing, namely, the usual characters, those of the priests, and of the kings. At last he intended to become a guide to mankind, admonished people to abstain from sin and wickedness, and from believing in superstitions. When he again returned to Sûs the citizens prepared a handsome school-house for him, and so diligently attended his lectures that they became in a short time noted for their proficiency in the science of philosophy. All classes, the poor and the rich, simple and gentle, the young and the old, profited by his instruction, and hastened from the quicksands of wickedness to the shores of safety. Most of the kings who reigned in the adjoining countries paid him visits, and he was so prolific a writer that he is said to have composed more than two hundred and eighty different works on various scientific subjects.
Towards the close of his life he had to undertake journeys to various places, and when he reached any city, he alighted at the mansion of some grandee, where crowds assembled to welcome him. On a certain occasion an individual of high lineage, and distinguished above his peers by his great wealth, made his appearance in an assembly, and began, according to the custom of fools, to praise his own self, committing also various other breaches of civility. Fithaghorath reflected on the badness of his manners, and advised him to mend them, but met with an evil requital, because the overweening folly and impudence of the just-mentioned individual induced him to assemble a number of his adherents, and to rush upon Fithaghorath with a volley of insulting expressions; and when a number of the disciples of the sage attempted to interfere, a combat ensued, in which forty of them lost their lives, and the remainder fled. The inhabitants of the city then conveyed Fithaghorath out of it in disguise, during the night, with an escort. He was nevertheless pursued by his enemies from town to town, until he finally took refuge in a castle which he fortified. When his assailants despaired of being able to take the place by assault, they collected a great quantity of wood and of naphtha, which they heaped up around the castle, and set on fire. The philosopher was surrounded by his disciples, who sheltered him with their bodies, but the exceeding heat and debility of his body caused him to fall into a swoon, from which he never recovered. ‘For the command of Allah is a determinate decree.’249
Some of his sayings are as follow: ‘What pleasure can people gain in talking about nice things which they may never possess?—While the pure spirit is a captive in the prison-house of the passions [i.e., in the body], he is more ashamed of himself than of them.—Watch so as not to allow forbidden things to enter your hearts.—The admonitions of a man’s own conscience are more efficacious than those of his friends.—Love him more who informs you of your faults, than him who deceives you with false praises. —You must always do what you ought, and not what you like.—Most of the evils which befall animals are attributable to their want of speech, and those which befall men to their possession of it.’ One day he saw an individual dressed in rich garments, but committing many errors against grammar, precisely as the grandees of our own time are in the habit of doing. To him he said: ‘Friend, either speak in conformity with your dress, or wear a dress in conformity with your language.’ To an ignorant old man, who was ashamed to apply himself to the acquisition of knowledge, he said: ‘Would you be ashamed to be accounted more learned at the end of your life, than in the beginning of it?’ It is related that his wife happened to die on a journey, and that when his acquaintances came forward to condole with him on the hardship of dying far from one’s country, he replied: ‘Brothers, there is no difference between death in the town or out of it, the road to eternity being everywhere the same.’ One day he said to a youth who was negligent in his studies: ‘Young man, if you do not take patience and diligence for your motto at present, you will in your old age have to bear with trouble and discomfort.’ The following is also one of his sayings: ‘He is beloved by God the Most High who does not indulge in wicked thoughts, and does not obey criminal impulses. He has a right to deliver speeches on the attributes of the Most High, who prefers to such speeches good deeds, whereby he gains the approbation of God.’
SOQRÂT [SOCRATES] THE RECLUSE.
His birthplace was the city of sages. When his friends solicited him to marry, for the sake of begetting a progeny, and urged him much, he replied: ‘If there be no escape from matrimony, I shall take a woman notorious for her stupidity and remarkable for her domineering spirit, so that by patiently schooling myself to suffer her tyranny, I may accustom myself to bear with the follies of high and low people.’ His regard for wisdom was so great that he made the acquisition thereof difficult to posterity by prohibiting his disciples to write down any of its maxims, and declaring that, as wisdom is pure and holy, it ought to have no other abode except the breasts of living men, so that the consigning of it to dead skins [parchments] and withered hearts would be blamable. Accordingly he composed no book, and delivered all his lectures extempore, because he had himself likewise received all his instruction only orally from his teacher. He had asked the latter why he would not allow him to note down what fell from him, but he replied: ‘I never say that you should transfer knowledge from a living heart to the skins of dead animals. In like manner, if a person were to ask you something on the road, or to put you a question, it would not look well if you were to tell him that you must return home to inspect your books, but you would rather call your memory to your assistance.’
Soqrât followed the advice of his teacher, and attained the highest proficiency in philosophy. He preferred silence and solitude to the futilities of the world, being contented with his shattered house and termagant wife, in lieu of a palace and a Hûri. It was customary with Greek kings that, when they were under the necessity of waging war against their enemies, they took with them the philosophers of the time for a blessing and good luck. According to that usage, the reigning king caused Soqrât to accompany him on a certain expedition, so that at each halting-place the tent of the sage was likewise pitched. One day the king happened to pass near the aperture of the tent, and saw the philosopher warming himself in the sun. The king asked: ‘What hinders you from keeping us company?’
Soqrât: My occupation is to acquire the necessaries of life.
King: If you come to me I shall give you what you require.
Soqrât: If I had desired that a king should supply my wants I would never have left your service.
King: I have been informed that you despise idols.
Soqrât: I do not say that, but I assert that idolatry is lucrative to your majesty, because the affairs of your subjects may possibly prosper thereby, and taxes can be levied. But as I know that I have a Creator who provides for my wants, and who is able to reward the good, and to punish the wicked, I do not worship idols and inorganic matter.
King: Have you any request to make?
Soqrât: Yes: that you move away from this place because your majesty’s person keeps off the rays of the sun from me.250
The king then ordered a rich dress and plenty of jewels to be given to him, but Soqrât replied: ‘His majesty’s promises are concerning the things of this world, but he cares not for those of the next. I stand in need of no such toys as stones and rags, and I have found what I required, when I discovered the arcana of wisdom. He who desires to attain eternal happiness must, according to his utmost capacity, abstain from all evil passions and manifestations of physical power. A man’s house will never become illuminated unless he shuts its five windows; that is to say, his soul will not become purified unless he subjugates his five senses.’ He also said: ‘Do not overstep the measure, i.e., be just; and be not an ant in the evening, i.e., be not greedy to accumulate riches in old age. There is no period of time which has not its vernal season, i.e., the acquisition of knowledge is never unseasonable.
When the chief priests heard that Soqrât was admonishing the people to abandon idolatry and to worship the only true God, they issued a judicial decree with the intention of depriving him of life, and persisted in their efforts—although they knew that the king was well disposed towards him— because they were convinced that even royal authority was bound to yield to the decision of the judge of Atheniah. His majesty nevertheless attempted to save the life of the philosopher, requesting him to cease his exhortations; but as he refused to comply, the king said: ‘You have incurred the penalty of death, and I cannot endanger the tranquillity of the kingdom for your sake. Select the mode of death which you think to be the easiest.’ Soqrât chose poison, and the king assented. On that occasion the king had despatched a ship to Hengava to bring him some things he needed, and in those times it was a law not to shed the blood of any person before the ship had returned. It happened, however, that the arrival of the ship had been delayed by contrary winds, so that [time was gained, and] Afritûn, who was a disciple of Soqrât and a man of great property, represented that he had, at his own expense, fitted out a ship by which he might escape to Rûmiah. But Soqrât refused, on the plea that his own property did not amount even to four hundred dirhems, which would not suffice to repay the outlay of Afritûn; and when the latter removed this objection by avowing that he and his friends were ready to sacrifice for Soqrât not merely all their wealth, but also their lives, the latter said: ‘This city is the place of my birth, and my antagonists are my own countrymen and acquaintances, who have brought all this trouble upon me because I tried to persuade them to abandon idolatry, and to worship the only true God. My principles will remain the same wherever I may go, and the citizens of Rûmiah are not less unprejudiced than those of Atheniah. If I had to endure such persecution from my own people, what can I expect from the inhabitants of Rûmiah?’ Afritûn replied: ‘Consider the distress into which your family and children will fall.’ Soqrât rejoined: ‘They will not perish among you.’
On the day after the return of the ship priests and idolaters visited him, remained awhile, took off his fetters, and departed. The gaolers then admitted his disciples, and removed Soqrât from his couch, who began to rub his legs, which had been injured by the heavy chains, and said: ‘How marvellous is the providence of God, which associates contrasts, so that no pleasure may be enjoyed without its counterbalancing pain.’ These words became a thesis of discussion to them, and the students began asking questions. Some of his more advanced disciples proposed questions on spiritual matters, which he solved in such a manner as to leave no longer any doubts in their minds. He was as cheerful as usual, and not at all distressed on account of the impending separation from his friends, nor did the apprehension of his approaching death disquiet his mind in the least. Whilst all present admired his equanimity, and were loath to part with him, Soqrât spake as follows: ‘Between the state in which I now am and my ordinary position I make no distinction, because although I shall be compelled to part with many beloved companions, I shall rejoin others who have preceded me in their journey to the next world.’
After they had terminated their discussion concerning the soul, they conversed about the structure of the universe, the motions of the heavenly bodies, and the elements; and having satisfied them on these points, Soqrât calmly expounded to them some theological principles and divine arcana. Then he said: ‘The time is at hand for the religious ablution and prayers, which will save the people the trouble of washing my body after I am dead. Now you may return to your homes.’ After having terminated his ablution and prayer he again came out, called for his friends and children, of whom he took leave. Then his executioners entered, one of whom presented him with the cup of poison, performed an act of prostration, apologized to Soqrât, and said: ‘I am aware that I have injured thee, but I acted by command. He who acts thus ought to be excused, and you must drink this [poison].’ Having said these words, he went out, and after Soqrât had swallowed the potion his disciples uttered shouts of lamentation; but he said: ‘I have sent away the females to spare myself the noisy grief to which they would give way in consequence of their weak constitution, but now I behold men acting like women.’ He continued to walk about until the poison had taken effect, whereon weakness overpowered him, so that he was unable to move. Accordingly he sat down, a slave rubbed both his legs, and he engaged in prayer to the Almighty.
On that occasion Afritûn requested him to inform him of his last wish, but Soqrât replied: ‘Be contented with the advice and instruction you have received from me ere this,’ and taking hold of his friend’s hand, placed it on his own face, opened his eyes, and said: ‘I surrender my life to the grasper of souls. “To Allah we belong, and unto Him we return.”’251
It is related that Soqrât was a very devout man, given to solitude, abstemious in eating and drinking, and frequently remembering death, of which he was not in the least afraid. He attained the age of one hundred and nine years, and left twelve thousand disciples. O God, have mercy on him! The following are some of his sayings: ‘A noble mind can be discerned from a base one, inasmuch as the former is eager to embrace truth, and the latter falsehood.—When a man abstains from speaking on a science concerning the truth whereof he has no knowledge, strife concerning it will subside among men, and the flames of contention will die away.—Be on your guard of anyone whom your heart points out as an enemy.—He is a man of perfect understanding, of whom his enemies need apprehend nothing, and not he whom even his friends most dread.— Worldly occupations resemble a fire made on the road; whoever takes up only as much of it as suffices to enable him to pursue his journey is safe, but whoever covets more of it may be burnt thereby.’
Aflatûn [Plato] the divine was one of his disciples, and having to undertake a journey on a certain occasion, he waited on his master to take leave, and to ask for instructions. Soqrât said: ‘Be not suspicious of one you know, but be suspicious of a person you know not, even if he should attach himself to you during your journey as a servant; beware, however, of giving way to ill-humour on account of that. Whenever you make a halt for the night, remain in your place. Eat not vegetables with the nature whereof you are not acquainted. Be not deceived by the pretended short-cuts of unknown roads, nor tired of the monotony of well-known highways.’ To another of his disciples Soqrât said: ‘My son, if the society of women be indispensable to you, use it like carrion food, of which no one partakes more than necessity compels him; and if he does [the contrary], he not only falls sick, but dies.’ Once Soqrât happened to travel in the company of a very rich man, and when they were attacked by robbers, the wealthy fellow said: ‘Alas, if they were to recognise me!’ and Soqrât also said: ‘Alas, if they were to recognise me!’
The following are likewise his maxims: ‘When the fire of your wrath blazes up, suffocate it by meekness.—This life is a picture, drawn on a sheet, portions whereof are now exposed to view, but rolled up anon.—Praise your friends whenever you meet them by mentioning their good qualities; for, if you mention their bad ones, you will make them your enemies.’ Aflatûn asked Soqrât the following questions: ‘Who is to be pitied? When is the trouble of man useless? How may the favour of God be acquired?’ Soqrât replied: ‘Three kinds of persons are to be pitied: (1) a good man who serves a bad master, but always sees and hears things which he ought neither to see nor to hear, and is therefore in an unhappy state of mind; (2) an intelligent man whose benefactor is a fool, and constantly torments himself with labour and grief; (3) and a noble-minded individual who has fallen into the meshes of a despicable wretch, whom he is compelled to obey, and to whom he must humble himself. The trouble of men is lost when the remedy is in the hands of an individual from whom they do not want to accept it; when a person takes up arms and is unable to use them; and when wealth falls into the possession of a man who is unable to utilize it. The favour of God (w. n. b. gl.) may be acquired by abundant gratitude, piety, and abstinence from every sin.’ After hearing these words, Aflatûn attached himself to Boqrât [Hippocrates], from whose company he was severed by death only.
When asked what gain there is in the study of philosophy, Soqrât replied: ‘What greater profit can there be than to behold myself on the shore, while others are being drowned?’ Once a man said to him: ‘I mentioned your name to a certain person, but he knew nothing about you.’ He replied: ‘The loss is on his part, and not on mine. It is not my duty to court the acquaintance of mean persons, but anyone to whom I am not known is a mean person.’ To a soldier who had run away he said: ‘To flee from a battle is a disgrace.’ The fugitive replied: ‘Death is a greater disgrace than flight.’ Soqrât rejoined: ‘Life is preferable to death when the value of it has been enhanced by bodily encountering the latter; but the latter is preferable to the former preserved by cowardice.’ In an assembly a man sought precedence over him by occupying a higher place; but he was not in the least dismayed thereby, and when asked why he had not manifested his displeasure at such incivility, he replied: ‘There is no doubt that the wall opposite to us is much higher than anyone present; nevertheless, no one gets angry with the wall. Had his aspirations been higher than mine, I might have become angry; such, however, not being the case, his place is in reality lower than mine.’ The following are also of his sayings: ‘Be not ashamed to receive the truth from anyone who utters it, even if he be poor and despicable; because the pearl loses nothing in value by the poverty of the diver.—Whoever loves you for your own sake, love him in return.—If you be ignorant on a subject, ask for information.—If you have committed a fault and repent of it, cease to persevere in it.—If you cannot help a man, cover his faults.—If you cannot give a man anything else, give him good words.—If a man desires to mix with friends, he must first examine himself whether he can bear with their foibles, else it will be better to abstain from intercourse, and to prefer solitude.—The weakness of a man may be discerned by three things: from his disregard for the regulation of his own mind, from his slender resistance to passion, and from his giving credit to the opinions of a woman, whether she understands a matter or not.’ When asked why he had never been seen in a state of melancholy, he replied, because he had nothing the loss whereof he might regret. There are six kinds of persons who are always unhappy: the envious and the covetous, persons who have suddenly become rich, those who are in constant fear of poverty and distress, ambitious men who aim higher than their capacities entitle them to, and fools who associate with polished and learned men. A man asked him: ‘You study philosophy all day, inducing also others to do so, but spend your nights in poverty; then what has your philosophy made you independent of?’ He replied: ‘Of the pangs of envy, with which you are inspired towards me.’ He also said: ‘A man’s knowledge of his own mind, and of the occupation most suitable for it, is one of the portions of philosophy most useful to him.’
DIUJÂNOS KALBI [DIOGENES THE CYNIC].
Historians assert that Diujânos was one of the wisest men of his age, and that he had made great progress in abstinence, piety, and solitude. His independence was so great, that he spurned the world with everything therein, and was partial to no fixed abode, but spent the night wherever it overtook him, and ate whatever food he could get hold of when hunger pressed him. He dressed in woollen garments, and never changed them nor his manner of living till his dying day. Once the king happened to pass near the locality where he was, and, perceiving Diujânos, halted and asked him questions; but as the philosopher neither rose nor performed the salutation due to a king, the latter became angry, and said:
K. O Diujânos, thou imaginest that thou art independent of me, but such is not the case.
D. In need of what stands the servant of my servant?
K. Who is the slave of thy slave?’
D. Thyself! because I am master of my passions, and thou art the slave of thine.
K. I shall present thee with whatever property or riches thou likest.
D. Why should I accept anything from a man who is poorer than myself?
K. In this state of destitution?
D. As I am more contented with my poverty than thou with thy riches, I am of course more wealthy than thyself.
The following are some of his sayings: ‘If you see a dog leaving his master to follow you, drive him away with heavy stones from you, because some day he would leave you also to follow another.’ He addressed a youth, whose countenance was adorned with beauty and his mind with politeness, in the following strain: ‘My son, thou hast embellished thy face with the excellencies of thy mind!’ Being asked concerning things proper for eating and drinking, he replied: ‘Any things which may be obtained and are fit for hungry persons.’ To the question, how friends are to be defined, he replied: ‘One soul in different bodies.’ Being questioned why he hated all men, he answered: ‘I hate bad persons on account of their wickedness, and those who are good because they do not persecute the bad ones.’ When asked why people call him Kalbi [Cynic], he replied: ‘Because I boldly speak the truth to the face of fools; because I shout at ignorant persons, and do not flatter wise ones.’ Some of his friends asked: ‘How would it be if you had a house for your comfort?’ But he replied: ‘My comfort consists in not possessing a house.’ When Eskandar conquered the birthplace of Diujânos, he went to see him; but perceiving the philosopher to be poor, he kicked him with his foot, saying: ‘Arise! I have taken thy town.’ He replied: ‘To conquer cities is the habit of kings, but to kick of donkeys.’ Perceiving two men who had for a long time lived in friendship with each other, he made inquiries, and being told that they were ‘friends,’ he said: ‘Tell me the truth, for the one is rich, and the other poor.’ One day he stood up in a high place, and exclaimed in a loud voice: ‘O men!’ And when a crowd assembled around him, he said: ‘I called men, and not you.’ One day he waited upon Eskandar, and hearing a poet recite a panegyric of the king, he went aside and began to chew a piece of bread which he had with him. Someone asked: ‘Preferrest thou to eat rather than to hear the eulogy of the king?’ He replied: ‘It is better to eat than to listen to falsehoods.’ One day Eskandar distributed gold and silver to his courtiers, in the presence of Diujânos, to whom he likewise offered a share; but the philosopher would not accept it, whereon the king exclaimed angrily: ‘A dog must be kept famished and despicable to insure his obedience.’ He replied: ‘Yes, but in a place where others are in need of bread.’ Let it not remain unknown that the king here mentioned is not Eskandar who was the son of Filqûs [Philip].
Being asked why he did not fight against the enemies of religion, he replied: ‘Of all the goods possessed by men, I have life only; and if I jeopardize that, what will be left to me?’ When people blamed him for not marrying, he replied: ‘It is more easy for me to suppress lust, than to encounter the hardships of supporting a family.’ One day Eskandar asked his courtiers by what means eternal reward could be gained, and Diujânos answered: ‘By good acts easy to you, but utterly impossible to your subjects.’ Once he passed near a custom-house, and being asked whether he had anything in his bag, he replied affirmatively; but when the official examined it and found nothing, he asked: ‘Where is the thing thou hast mentioned?’ the philosopher pointed to his breast, saying: ‘My treasury-chest is here, of which no thief nor custom-house officer can rob me.’
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.
ARISTÂTALIS [ARISTOTLE] BIN MIQOMAHOS.
In the language of the inhabitants of Yonân [Greece] the word Aristo means ‘excellent, perfect,’ and Miqomahos means ‘a disputant, a victor,’ who was a celebrated physician in the service of the grandfather of Eskandar. When Aristo had attained the age of eight years his father took him from Astaghira to Atheniah, which was called the city of sages, to study grammar and eloquence. He was thus engaged during nine years in the study of language, which the Yonânians called the ocean, because every person stands in need of it. When he had attained proficiency in that science he studied moral, political, physical, and theological sciences under the guidance of Aflatûn, whose disciple he became. In course of time his teacher conceived so high an opinion of the acquirements of Aristo, that if the latter happened to be absent when a question was being discussed, he used to say to his disciples, ‘Wait till Aristo comes,’ and not to continue the lecture till the latter made his appearance. After the decease of Aflatûn, Aristo went to the country of sages, and established a school of philosophy, which he maintained till Filqûs invited him to Mâqdûn [Macedonia], where he remained till Eskandar succeeded to the throne. When the latter departed on a distant journey, Aristo returned to the country of Atheniah, more especially because the climate of Mâqdûn did not agree with his constitution. He remained ten years in that city; but an idol-priest named Mâdûn excited the populace against him, because he was inimical to image-worship. This circumstance reminded him of the fate of Soqrât, to escape which he returned to his birthplace, where he applied himself to the rebuilding of various edifices, to the admonition of the people, and to the protection of orphans, as well as to scientific discussion with learned men. He was esteemed by great personages, who honoured him with presents; but he died suddenly while preparing for a visit to an adjacent island, to which he intended to retire in order to compose a treatise. He was buried by his disciples in an appropriate spot, which became a place of pilgrimage, visited by sages for the purpose of discussing any difficult question in which they happened to be engaged, and remaining on the spot till they had solved it, because they were under the impression that a visit to the sepulchre purified and enlightened the mind.
He counted among his disciples royal princes, kings, and even Eskandar. He wrote one hundred and twenty works, and attained the age of sixty-eight years. He was a man of full stature, with great bones; his complexion was fair, his moustache thick, eyes large, mouth small, and chest broad. His walk was quick when alone, but slow in company. He was scarcely ever disengaged from reading books and discussions. He was fond of strolling about on the banks of rivers and in prairies, of listening to chants, and associating with pious men. In disputations he espoused the cause of justice, and acknowledged himself to be in the wrong whenever there was an occasion to do so. In his dress, diet, and sexual intercourse he never transgressed the bounds of propriety.
The following are some of his sayings: ‘A learned may know an ignorant man, because he was once himself in that state; but an ignorant person is unable to know a learned one, because he was himself never learned.—Be contented, and you will be independent of the world.—To covet the society of a man who shuns you is mean, and to shun the society of a man who covets yours is cowardly.’ Having been reproached by a man that he had defamed him, Aristo replied: ‘I do not esteem you so highly as to neglect my philosophical occupations and to think of you.’ To Eskandar he said: ‘People are astonished in two matters concerning you: they are amazed at the greatness of your kingdom and at your courage; and people love you on account of two things: namely, for your humility and liberality.’ When he was told that it is improper for philosophers to accumulate riches, he replied: ‘They do so in order not to fall into the power of mean persons.’ When he had terminated the education of Eskandar, he produced him in a public assembly, where he examined him on various theoretical and practical subjects, concerning all of which Eskandar gave replies; nevertheless, Aristo, instead of praising or flattering, only insulted him, so that all present accused Aristo of tyranny and of not acting in accordance with the maxims of wisdom; he replied, however: ‘As Eskandar had been brought up among the caresses of his father and mother, I desired to make him taste the food of oppression, that the bitterness of my reproofs may restrain him from persecuting his subjects. ‘The tranquillity ensuing after joy or pain is entirely the same.’ Once he sent the following maxims in writing to Eskandar: ‘People are of two kinds, ignoble and noble; the former are kept in subjection by fear, and the latter by shame. Accordingly you must display your strength to the former and your kindness to the latter. Be not overpowered by anger, because it is a quality of wild animals; nor by weakness, because it is a quality of children. Be aware that the duties of kings are of three kinds: namely, to keep up good laws, to subjugate realms, and to colonize deserted places.’ It is related that on a certain occasion Aristo put the following question to one of the royal princes under his tuition: ‘How will you reward my services when you become king?’ He replied: ‘I shall consult you in all affairs.’ Another prince gave the following answer: ‘I shall make you my partner in the kingdom.’ When the turn of Eskandar arrived, he replied: ‘O my teacher, do not ask me, because I shall not attain the royal dignity.’ The philosopher replied: ‘From your disposition and actions I can with certainty predict that you will attain dominion over the whole world.’
BOQRÂT [HIPPOCRATES?] THE PHYSICIAN.
Some assert that Boqrât and Dimoqratis [Democritus] were contemporaries of Behmen Esfendiar, whilst others maintain that Boqrât lived one century before Eskandar. The author of the Târikh-i-Hukmâ has inserted his biography after that of Aristâtalis, and has stated that Boqrat Bin Râfnos was one of the disciples of Asqlabios [Æsculapius] the second, but the first who practised medicine as a science. He enjoined his children not to teach this art to strangers, but to keep it as an heirloom to ennoble his family. All the decisions of Asqlabios concerning this science were based entirely on experience, because he had in that way attained his knowledge thereof. The practice of physicians during one thousand four hundred and sixteen years continued on this principle, until the time of the physician Minos, who considered it to be erroneous to rely on experience alone, and accordingly added theoretical rules to it, which were followed by physicians during seven hundred and eleven years, until the time of Parmenides the physician, who entirely rejected experience, and practised medicine exclusively on theoretical rules. After his death a schism took place among his disciples, some of whom adhered to experience and others to theory, whilst others, again, maintained that the science of medicine consisted in the practice of a few tricks. This dissension lasted till the time of Aflatûn, who investigated the tenets of the ancients, and discovered that practice without theory is equally dangerous as the latter without the former. He burnt the writings of both parties, but reserved his confidence for the books of the ancients, who combined experience and rules with each other.
One thousand four hundred and twenty years after the decease of Aflatûn the physician, Asqlabios the second was born, who approved of that philosopher’s opinion, and acted according to it. After his death, and that of Mostafidânosh, who practised medicine contrary to his method, Boqrât was the most celebrated physician who perfected experimental medicine. When he perceived that this science had begun to decline, on account of the exclusion of foreigners from its study, he wrote a compendium of it, and allowed everybody to profit thereby; he also ordered his sons not to spare any pains in propagating this knowledge. In this manner that noble science was made accessible to all, and the precepts of Boqrât became universally known.
It is related that one of the kings of Persia despatched a messenger to Fillâqis, king of the island of Foâkad, which was the birthplace of Boqrât, with a request to send him the physician, to defray whose travelling expenses the said envoy had brought one hundred and twenty rattals of gold, each rattal consisting of ninety mithqâls. As Fillâqis was a vassal of the King of Persia he was compelled to obey, and informed Boqrât that in case he should refuse, he would bring danger and misfortune not only upon himself, but on his king and country, it being out of question to offer resistance to the sovereign of Persia. Boqrât nevertheless refused to leave his country, and Fillâqis had no other remedy but to leave the decision to his people, who, however, unanimously preferred to incur the displeasure of the King of Persia, and to expose their country to war, rather than lose their great physician. When the envoy had seen the obstinacy of this nation, he returned to his master, and induced him to let the matter drop.
Boqrât was a man of beautiful countenance, fair complexion, with a large head and handsome eyes. He walked slowly, spoke little, ate sparingly, fasted much, and attained the age of ninety-five years. The first sixteen years of his life he spent in the acquisition of knowledge, and the remaining seventy-nine in the composition of medical works and in teaching. The following are some of his sayings: ‘Who chooses to serve princes must be prepared to be insulted by them, in the same way as a diver must taste the brackish water of the sea.—Whoever is envious has an internal enemy that will kill him before his time.— Friendship may exist permanently between two wise men on account of their intellect, but never between two fools. The requirements of intellect being the same, those who possess it will act in concert, whereas ignorant persons cannot do so.—The profit of my virtues is, that they inform me of my failings.—A man is to consider himself in this world like one invited to a banquet; if a cup be offered to him, he must quaff it; but if he is passed by, he is not to covet it. Accordingly he is not to over-estimate the possession of riches and connections, but he is to consider this world as a hostelry, the keeper whereof is fate.— There are three signs of weakness, namely, drinking water in bed, sleeping out of one’s bed, loquacity and loud words. —Secretions from the body are discharged in five manners: The corrupted matters of the head by emunction, those of the mouth of the stomach by vomiting, those of the stomach itself by purging, those of the skin by perspiration, and those of the veins by bleeding.—There are four things injurious to the sight, namely, eating hot food, pouring boiling water on the head, looking at the sun, and seeing the face of an enemy.