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CONFUCIUS. 

Photogravure  from  an  old  Chinese  print. 

This  picture  of  Confucius,  surrounded  by  allegorical  symbols,  is  taken  from  a 
Chinese  lithograph  of  great  antiquity.  The  personal  appearance  of  Confucius  is  a 
matter  of  dispute,  but  the  accompanying  picture  is  the  one  commonly  accepted  in 
China  to  be  his  best  likeness. 


VBQ'17:^L/!j[aX&T^Xt'jy.7j 


KltJULXKKXXXU 


CHINESE  LITERATURE 


COMPRISING 

THE   ANALECTS   OF   CONFUCIUS 

THE   SHI-KING 

THE   SAYINGS   OF   MENCIUS 

THE   SORROWS   OF   HAN 

AND 

THE   TRAVELS   OF   FA-HIEN 


WITH    CRITICAL    AND    BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCHES    BY 

EPIPHANIUS   WILSON.  A.M. 


•)X(>)xo)i  <.'yxo)Tmxf^=^^^^^ 


J/ -LONDON. 


^"^Q^^A 


REVISED   EDITION 


Copyright,   1900, 
By  the  colonial  PRESS, 


.n 


L^^, 


r 


.,.,.ytL^ 


Vs'^'^^ 


CONTENTS 

THE  ANALECTS  OF  CONFUCIUS 

PAGE 

Introduction  3 

BOOK 

I.— On  Learning— Miscellaneous  Sayings 7 

II. — Good  Government — Filial  Piety — The  Superior  Man lo 

III. — Abuse  of  Proprieties  in  Ceremonial  and  Music 14 

IV. — Social  Virtue — Superior  and  Inferior  Man 19 

V. — A  Disciple  and  the  Golden  Rule— Miscellaneous 22 

VI. — More  Characteristics — Wisdom— Philanthropy  27 

VII. — Characteristics  of  Confucius — An  Incident 31 

VIII. — Sayings  of  Tsang — Sentences  of  the  Master 36 

IX. — His  Favorite  Disciple's  Opinion  of  Him 40 

X. — Confucius  in  Private  and  Official  Life 44 

XI. — Comparative  Worth  of  His  Disciples 48 

XII. — The  Master's  Answers — Philanthropy — Friendships 53 

XIII. — Answers  on  the  Art  of  Governing— Consistency 58 

XIV. — Good  and  Bad  Government — Miscellaneous  Sayings 63 

XV. — Practical  Wisdom — Reciprocity  the  Rule  of  Life 70 

XVI. — Against  Intestine  Strife — Good  and  Bad  Friendships 75 

XVII.— The  Master  Induced  to  Take  Office— Nature  and  Habit 79 

XVIII.— Good  Men  in  Seclusion— Duke  of  Chow  to  His  Son 84 

XIX.— Teachings  of  Various  Chief  Disciples 88 

XX.— Extracts  from  the  Book  of  History 92 

THE   SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS 

Introduction 97 

Book  I. — King  Hwuy  of  Leang. — 

Part    I : 99 

[Books  II.,  III.,  and  IV.  are  omitted] 

Book  V. — Wan  Chang. — 

Part   I no 

iii 


4G24fi 


Iv  CONTENTS 

THE   SHI-KING 

PAGB 

Introduction ^^3 

Part  I.— Lessons  from  the  States. 

Book  I.— The  Odes  of  Chow  and  the  South. — 

Celebrating  the  Virtue  of  King  Wan's  Bride 125 

Celebrating  the  Industry  of  King  Wan's  Queen 126 

In  Praise  of  a  Bride 126 

Celebrating  T'ae-Sze's  Freedom  from  Jealousy 127 

The  Fruitfulness  of  the  Locust 127 

Lamenting  the  Absence  of  a  Cherished  Friend 128 

Celebrating  the  Goodness  of  the  Descendants  of  King  Wan 128 

The  Virtuous  Manners  of  the  Young  Women 129 

Praise  of  a  Rabbit-Catcher 129 

The  Song  of  the  Plantain-Gatherers 130 

The  Affection  of  the  Wives  on  the  Joo 130 

Book  II.— The  Odes  of  Shaou  and  the  South.— 

The  Marriage  of  a  Princess 131 

The  Industry  and  Reverence  of  a  Prince's  Wife 131 

The  Wife  of  Some  Great  Officer  Bewails  his  Absence 132 

The  Diligence  of  the  Young  Wife  of  an  Officer 132 

The  Love  of  the  People  for  the  Duke  of  Shaou 133 

The  Easy  Dignity  of  the  Officers  at  Some  Court 133 

Anxiety  of  a  Young  Lady  to  Get  Married I34 

Book  III.— The  Odes  of  P'ei.— 

An  Officer  Bewails  the  Neglect  with  which  He  is  Treated 135 

A  Wife  Deplores  the  Absence  of  Her  Husband 136 

The  Plaint  of  a  Rejected  Wife I37 

Soldiers  of  Wei  Bewail  Separation  from  their  Families 138 

An  Officer  Tells  of  His  Mean  Employment I39 

An  Officer  Sets  Forth  His  Hard  Lot I39 

The  Complaint  of  a  Neglected  Wife 140 

In  Praise  of  a  Maiden 141 

Discontent  ^4i 

Chwang  Keang  Bemoans  Her  Husband's  Cruelty 142 

[Books  IV.,  v.,  and  VI.  are  omitted] 

Book  VII.— The  Odes  of  Ch'ing.— 

The  People's  Admiration  for  Duke  Woo 143 

A  Wife  Consoled  by  Her  Husband's  Arrival I43 

In  Praise  of  Some  Lady I44 

A  Man's  Praise  of  His  Wife I44 

An  Entreaty  ^45 

A  Woman  Scorning  Her  Lover I45 

A  Lady  Mourns  the  Absence  of  Her  Student  Lover 145 


CONTENTS  V 

Book  VIII.— The  Odes  of  Ts'e. —  pagk 

A  Wife  Urging  Her  Husband  to  Action 146 

The  Folly  of  Useless  Effort 146 

The  Prince  of  Loo 147 

Book  IX.— The  Odes  of  Wei.— 

On  the  Misgovernment  of  the  State 148 

The  Mean  Husband 149 

A  Young  Soldier  on  Service , 149 

Book  X. — The  Odes  of  T'ang. — 

The  King  Goes  to  War 151 

Lament  of  a  Bereaved  Person 152 

The  Drawbacks  of  Poverty 152 

A  Wife  Mourns  for  Her  Husband 153 

Book  XL— The  Odes  of  Ts'in. — 

Celebrating  the  Opulence  of  the  Lords  of  Ts'in 154 

A  Complaint  154 

A  Wife's  Grief  Because  of  Her  Husband's  Absence 155 

Lament  for  Three  Brothers 155 

In  Praise  of  a  Ruler  of  Ts'in 157 

The  Gfenerous  Nephew 157 

Book  XII.— The  Odes  of  Ch'in. — 

The  Contentment  of  a  Poor  Recluse 158 

The  Disappointed  Lover 158 

A  Love-Song 159 

The  Lament  of  a  Lover 159 

Book  XIII.— The  Odes  of  Kwei.— 

The  Wish  of  an  Unhappy  Man 161 

Book  XIV.— The  Odes  of  Ts'aou.— 

Against  Frivolous  Pursuits 162 

Book  XV.— The  Odes  of  Pin.— 

The  Duke  of  Chow  Tells  of  His  Soldiers 163 

There  is  a  Proper  Way  for  Doing  Everything 164 


Part  II. — Minor  Odes  of  the  Kingdom. 

Book  I. — Decade  of  Luh  Ming. — 

A  Festal  Ode 165 

A  Festal  Ode  Complimenting  an  Officer 166 

The  Value  of  Friendship 167 

The  Response  to  a  Festal  Ode 168 

An  Ode  of  Congratulation 169 

An  Ode  on  the  Return  of  the  Troops 170 

Book  II. — The  Decade  of  Pih  Hwa. — 

An  Ode  Appropriate  to  a  Festivity 172 

Book  III. — The  Decade  of  T'ung  Kung. — 

Celebrating  a  Hunting  Expedition 173 


vi  CONTENTS 

PAGB 

The  King's  Anxiety  for  His  Morning  Levee 174 

Moral  Lessons  from  Natural  Facts 174 

Book  IV.— The  Decade  of  K'e-Foo.— 

On  the  Completion  of  a  Royal  Palace 176 

The  Condition  of  King  Seuen's  Flocks 177 

Book  V. — The  Decade  of  Seaou  Min. — 

A  Eunuch  Complains  of  His  Fate 179 

An  Officer  Deplores  the  Misery  of  the  Time 180 

On  the  Alienation  of  a  Friend 182 

Book  VL— The  Decade  of  Pih  Shan.— 

A  Picture  of  Husbandry 183 

The  Complaint  of  an  Officer 184 

Book  VH.— Decade  of  Sang  Hoo.— 

The  Rejoicings  of  a  Bridegroom 187 

Against  Listening  to  Slanderers 188 

Book  VHI.— The  Decade  of  Too  Jin  Sze.— 

In  Praise  of  By-gone  Simplicity 189 

A  Wife  Bemoans  Her  Husband's  Absence igo 

The  Earl  of  Shaou's  Work 191 

The  Plaint  of  King  Yew's  Forsaken  Wife 191 

Hospitality   193 

On  the  Misery  of  Soldiers 194 

Pari  III.— Greater  Odes  of  the  Kingdom. 

Book  I.— Decade  of  King  Wan.— 

Celebrating   King  Wan 195 

[Book  II.  is  omitted] 
Book  III. — Decade  of  Tang. — 

King  Seuen  on  the  Occasion  of  a  Great  Drought 197 

Part  IV.— Odes  of  the  Temple  and  Altar. 
Book  I. — Sacrificial  Odes  of  Chow. — 

Appropriate  to  a  Sacrifice  to  King  Wan 201 

On  Sacrificing  to  the  Kings  Woo,  Ching,  and  K'ang 202 


THE   TRAVELS   OF   FA-HIEN 

Translator's  Introduction   205 

CHAFTKR 

I. — From  Ch'ang-gan  to  the  Sandy  Desert 213 

II. — On  to  Shen-shen  and  thence  to  Khoten 214 

III. — Khoten — Processions  of  Images 216 

IV.— Through  the  Ts'ung  Mountains  to  K'eech-ch'a 218 

V. — Great  Quinquennial  Assembly  of  Monks 218 

VI.— North  India — Image  of  Maitreya  Bodhisattva 220 


CONTENTS  vii 

CHAPTER  «'-\'f^ 

VII.— The  Perilous  Crossing  of  the  Indus 221 

VIII. — Woo-chang,  or  Udyana — Traces  of  Buddha 222 

IX. — Soo-ho-to — Legends  of  Buddha  223 

X.—Gandhara— Legends  of  Buddha  223 

XL— Takshasila— Legends— The  Four  Great  Topes 224 

XII.— Buddha's  Alms-bowl— Death  of  Hwuy-king 224 

XIII.— Festival  of  Buddha's  Skull-bone 226 

XIV.— Crossing  the  Indus  to  the  East 228 

XV. — Sympathy  of  Monks  with  the  Pilgrims 229 

XVI. — Condition  and  Customs  of  Central  India 230 

XVIL— Legend  of  the  Trayastrimsas  Heaven 233 

XVIIL— Buddha's  Subjects  of  Discourse 236 

XIX.— Legend  of  Buddha's  Danta-kashtha 237 

XX.— The  Jetavana  Vihara— Legends  of  Buddha 237 

XXI. — The  Three  Predecessors  of  Sakyamuni 242 

XXII.— Legends  of  Buddha's  Birth 243 

XXIII. — Legends  of  Rama  and  its  Tope 245 

XXIV.— Where  Buddha  Renounced  the  World 246 

XXV.— The  Kingdom  of  Vaisali 247 

XXVI.— Remarkable  Death  of  Ananda 249 

XXVII.— King  Asoka's  Spirit-built  Palace  and  Halls 250 

XXVIIL— Rajagriha,  New  and  Old — Legends  Connected  with  It.  252 

XXIX.— Fa-Hien  Passes  a  Night  on  Gridhra-kuta  Hill 253 

XXX. — Srataparna  Cave,  or  Cave  of  the  First  Council 254 

XXXI. — Sakyamuni's  Attaining  to  the  Buddhaship 256 

XXXII. — Legend  of  King  Asoka  in  a  Former  Birth 258 

XXXIII. — Kasyapa  Buddha's  Skeleton  on  Mount  Gurupada 260 

XXXIV.— On  the  Way  Returning  to  Patna 261 

XXXV. — Dakshina,  and  the  Pigeon  Monastery 262 

XXXVI.— Fa-Hien's  Indian  Studies 264 

XXXVIL— Fa-Hien's  Stay  in  Champa  and  Tamalipti 265 

XXXVIII.— At  Ceylon— Feats  of  Buddha— His  Statue  in  Jade....  266 

XXXIX.— Cremation  of  an  Arhat— Sermon  of  a  Devotee 270 

XL. — After  Two  Years  Fa-Hien  Takes  Ship  for  China 272 

Conclusion   277 


THE  SORROWS  OF  HAN 

Introduction   281 

Translator's  Preface  283 

Dramatis   Personae   286 

Prologue    287 

Act  First  290 

Act  Second  293 

Act  Third  298 

Act  Fourth  301 


ILLUSTRATION 

Confucius  .......  Frontispiece 

Photogravure  from  an  old  Chinese  print 


THE    ANALECTS 

OF 

CONFUCIUS 

[Translated  into  English  by  William  Jennings] 


PRONUNCIATION    OF    PROPER    NAMES 

/,  as  in  French. 

ng,  commencing  a  word,  like  the  same  letters  terminating  one. 

ai  or  ei,  as  in  aisle  or  eider, 

au,  as  in  German,  or  like  ow  in  cow. 

e,  as  in  fete. 

i  (not  followed  by  a  consonant),  as  ee  in  see. 

u  (followed  by  a  consonant),  as  in  bull. 

iu,  as  ew  in  new. 

lit,  as  ooi  in  cooing. 

h  at  the  end  of  a  name  makes  the  preceding  vowel  short. 

i  in  the  middle  of  a  word  denotes  an  aspirate  (h),  as  iiL'Mng=Khung. 


INTRODUCTION 

THE  strangest  figure  that  meets  us  in  the  annals  of  Ori- 
ental thought    is  that  of  Confucius.     To  the  popular     . 
mind  he  is  the  founder  of  a  religion,  and  yet  he  has     | 
nothing  in  common  with  the  great  religious  teachers  of  the     J 
East.     We  think  of  Siddartha,  the  founder  of  Buddhism,  as  the 
very  impersonation  of  romantic  asceticism,  enthusiastic  self- 
sacrifice,  and  faith  in  the  things  that  are  invisible.     Zoroaster 
is  the  friend  of  God,  talking  face  to  face  with  the  Almighty,  and 
drinking  wisdom  and  knowledge  from  the  lips  of  Omniscience. 
Mohammed  is  represented  as  snatched  up  into  heaven,  where 
he  receives  the  Divine  communication  which  he  is  bidden  to 
propagate  with  fire  and  sword  throughout  the  world.     These 
great  teachers  lived  in  an  atmosphere  of  the  supernatural.    They 
spoke  with  the  authority  of  inspired  prophets:     TTiey  brought 
the  unseenworld  close  to  the  minds  of  their  disciples.     They 
spoke  pncitjvply  ni  ^mmnri-alif-y^  ni  reward  n£  punishment  be- 
yond the  grave.     The  present  life  they  despised,  the  future  was 
to  them  everything  in  its  promised  satisfaction.    The  teachings 
of  Confucius  were  of  a  very  different  sort.     Throughout  his\N 
whole  writings  he  has  not  even  mentioned  the  name  of  God.  \\ 
He  declined  to  discuss  the  question  ^f  irpmortalitv.     When  he      \  j 
was  asked  about  spiritual  beings,  he  remarked,  "  If  we  cannot        1/ 
even  know  men,  how  can  we  know  spirits  ?  "  j: 

Yet  this  was  the  man  the  impress  of  whose  teaching  has 
formed  the  national  character  of  five  hundred  millions  of  people. 
A  temple  to  Confucius  stands  to  this  day  in  every  town  and 
village  of  China.  His  precepts  are  committed  to  memory  by 
every  child  from  the  tenderest  age,  and  each  year  at  the  royal 
university  at  Pekin  the  Emperor  holds  a  festival  in  honor  of 
the  illustrious  teacher. 

The  influence  of  Confucius  springs,  first  of  all,  frorn  the  nar- 
rowness  and  definiteness  of  his  doctrine.     He  was  no'transcen- 


/ 


I  THE   ANALECTS 

dentalist,  and  never  meddled  with  supramundane  things.  His 
teaching  was  of  the  earth,  earthy ;  it  dealt  entirely  with  the 
CQjxitTion  Tdations^  life,  and  the  Golden  Rule  he  must  neces- 
sarily have  stumbled  upon,  as  the  most  obvious  canon  of  his 
system.  He  strikes  us  as  being  the  great  Stoic  of  the  East,  for 
he  believed  that  virtue  was  based  on  knowledge,  knowledge  of 
^  "^^"^LH^^^-i^Sri*  ^"d  knowledge  of  human-kind.  There  is  a 
pathetic  resemblance  between  the  accounts  given  of  the  death  of 
Confucius  and  the  death  of  Zeno.  Both  died  almost  without 
warning  in  dreary  hopelessness,  without  the  ministrations  of 
either  love  or  religion.  This  may  be  a  mere  coincidence,  but 
the  lives  and  teachings  of  both  men  must  have  led  them  to  look 
with  indifference  upon  such  an  end.  For  Confucius  in  his 
teaching  treated  only  of  man's  life  on  earth,  and  seems  to  have 
had  no  ideas  with  regard  to  the  human  lot  after  death  ;  if  he  had 
any  ideas  he  preserved  an  inscrutable  silence  about  themi.     As 


Jking  a 
ndividi 


.father,  and  advocated  the  cultivation  by  the  individual  man  of 
that  rest  or  apathy  of  mind  which  resembles  so  much  the  dis- 
position aimed  at  by  the  Greek  and  Roman  Stoic.  Even  as  a 
.  moralist,  he  seems  to  have  sacrificed  the  i^jeal  to  the  nracHp.al. 
and  his  loose  notions  about  marriage,  his  tolerance  ofoDncu  Di- 
nage,  the  slight  emphasis  which  he  lays  on  the  virtue  of  verac- 
ity— of  which  indeed  he  does  not  seem  himself  to  have  been  par- 
ticularly studious  in  his  historic  writings — place  him  low  down 

I  'in  the  rank  of  moralists.  Yet  he  taught  what  he  felt  the  people 
B  could  receive,  and  the  flat  mediocrity  of  his  character  and  his 
|\  teachings  has  been  stamped^  forever  upon  a  people  who,  while 

I I  they  are  kindly,  gentle,  forbearing,  and  full  of  family  piety,  are 
\l  palpably  lacking  not  only  in  the  exaltation  of  Mysticism,  but  in 

^any  rd^jious-Eeeling,  generally  so-called. 

The  second  reason  that  made  the  teaching  of  Confucius  so 
influential  is  based  on  the  circumstances  of  the  time.  When 
this  thoughtful,  earnest  youth  awoke  to  the  consciousness  of  life 
about  him,  he  saw  that  the  abuses  under  which  the  people 
groaned  sprang  from  the  feudal  system,  which  cut  up  the  coun- 
try into  separate  territories,  over  which  the  power  of  the  king 
had  no  control.  China  was  in  the  position  of  France  in  the 
years  preceding  Philippe-Auguste,  excepting  that  there  were 
no  places  of  sanctuary  and  no  Truce  of  God.  The  great  doc- 
trine of  Confucius  was  the  unlimited  despotism  of  the  Emperor, 


INTRODUCTION  5 

and  his  moral  precepts  were  intended  to  teach  the  Emperor  how 
to  use  his  power  aright.  But  the  Emperor  was  only  typical  of 
all  those  in  authority — the  feudal  duke,  the  judge  on  the  bench, 
and  the  father  of  the  family.  Each  could  discharge  his  duties 
aright  only  by  submitting  to  the  rnoral  discipline  which  Con- 
fucius prescribed.  A  vital  element  in  this  system  is  its  con- 
servatism, its  adherence  to  the  imperial  idea.  As  James  I  said, 
"  No  bishop,  no  king,"  so  the  imperialists  of  China  have  found 
in  Confucianism  the  strongest  basis  for  the  throne,  and  have 
supported  its  dissemination  accordingly. 

The  Analects  of  Confucius  contain  the  gist  of  his  teachings, 
and  is  worthy  of  study.  We  find  in  this  work  most  of  the  pre- 
cepts which  his  disciples  have  preserved  and  recorded.  They 
form  a  code  remarkable  for  siii^plicitv.  even  crudity,  and  we  are 
compelled  to  admire  the  force  of  character,  the  r)ra(;,yra1  sa- 
gacity,  the  insight  into  the  needs  of  the  hour,  which  enabled 
Confucius,  without  claiming  any  Divine  sanction,  to  impose 
this  system  upon  his  countrymen. 

The  name  Confucius  is  only  the  Latinized  form  of  two  words 
Vviiich  mean  "  Master  K'ung."  He  was  born  551  b.c,  his  father 
being  governor  of  Shantung.  He  was  married  at  nineteen,  and 
seems  to  have  occupied  some  minor  position  under  the  govern- 
ment. In  his  twenty-fourth  year  he  entered  upon  the  three 
years'  mourning  for  the  death  of  his  mother.  His  seclusion 
gave  him  time  for  deep  thought  and  the  study  of  history,  and 
he  resolved  upon  the  regeneration  of  his  unhappy  country.  By 
the  time  he  was  thirty  he  became  known  as  a  great  teacher,  and 
disciples  flocked  to  him.  But  he  was  yet  occupied  in  public 
duties,  and  rose  through  successive  stages  to  the  office  of  Chief 
Judge  in  his  own  country  of  Lu.  His  tenure  of  office  is  said  to 
have  put  an  end  to  crime,  and  he  became  the  "  idol  of  the  peo- 
ple "  in  his  district.  The  jealousy  of  the  feudal  lords  was 
roused  by  his  fame  as  a  moral  teacher  and  a  blameless  judge. 
Confucius  was  driven  from  his  home,  and  wandered  about,  with 
a  few  disciples,  until  his  sixty-ninth  year,  when  he  returned  to 
Lu,  after  accomplishing  a  work  which  has  borne  fruit,  such  as 
it  is,  to  the  present  day.  He  spent  the  remaining  five  years  of 
his  life  in  editing  the  odes  and  historic  monuments  in  which  the 
glories  of  the  ancient  Chinese  dynasty  are  set  forth.  He  died 
in  his  seventy-third  year,  478  b.c.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that 
the   success   of   Confucius   has   been    singularly   great,   owing 


J 


6  THE  ANALECTS 

r especially  to  the  narrow  scope  of  his  scheme,  which  has  become 
crystallized  in  the  habits,  usages,  and  customs  of  the  people. 
Especially  has  it  been  instrumental  in  consolidating  the  empire, 
■  and  in  strengthening  the  power  of  the  monarch,  who,  as  he 
every  year  burns  incense  in  the  red-walled  temple  at  Pekin, 
utters  sincerely  the  invocation :  "  Great  art  thou,  O  perfect 
Sage!  Thy  virtue  is  full,  thy  doctrine  complete.  Among 
mortal  men  there  has  not  been  thine  equal.  All  kings  honor 
thee.  Thy  statutes  and  laws  have  come  gloriously  down. 
Thou  art  the  pattern  in  this  imperial  school.  Reverently  have 
the  sacrificial  vessels  been  set  out.  Full  of  awe,  we  sound  our 
drums  and  bells." 

E.  W. 


THE    ANALECTS 

BOOK   I 

On  Learning — Miscellaneous  Sayings 

"  "^  I  ^O  learn,"  said  the  Master,  "  and  then  to  practise  op- 
I  porttinely  what  one  has  learnt — does  not  this  bring 
with  it  a  sense  of  satisfaction? 

"  To  have  associates  in  study  coming  to  one  from  distant 
parts — does  not  this  also  mean  pleasure  in  store? 

"  And  are  not  those  who,  while  not  comprehending  all  that 
is  said,  still  remain  not  unpleased  to  hear,  men  of  the  superior 
order  ?  " 

A  saying  of  the  Scholar  Yu  : — 

"  It  is  rarely  the  case  that  those  who  act  the  part  of  true  men 
in  regard  to  their  duty  to  parents  and  elder  brothers  are  at  the 
same  time  willing  to  turn  currishly  upon  their  superiors  :  it  has 
never  yet  been  the  case  that  such  as  desire  not  to  commit  that 
offence  have  been  men  willing  to  promote  anarchy  or  disorder. 

"  Men  of  superior  mind  busy  themselves  first  in  getting  at  the 
root  of  things  ;  and  when  they  have  succeeded  in  this  the  right 
course  is  open  to  them.  Well,  are  not  filial  piety  and  friendly 
subordination  among  brothers  a  root  of  thatrightjeeling  which 
is  owing  generally  from  man  to  man  ?  " 

The  Master  observed,  "  Rarely  do  we  meet  with  the  right 
feeling  due  from  one  man  to  another  where  there  is  fine  speech 
and  studied  mien." 

The  Scholar  Tsang  once  said  of  himself:  "  On  three  points 
I  examine  myself  daily,  viz.,  whether,  in  looking  after  other 
people's  interests,  I  have  not  been  acting  whole-heartedly; 
whether,  in  my  intercourse  with  friends,  I  have  not  been  true ; 
and  whether,  after  teaching,  I  have  not  myself  been  practising 
what  I  have  taught." 

The  Master  once  observed  that  to  rule  well  one  of  the  larger 
7 


8  CONFUCIUS 

States  meant  strict  attention  to  its  affairs  and  conscientiousness 
on  the  part  of  the  ruler;  careful  husbanding  of  its  resources, 
with  at  the  same  time  a  tender  care  for  the  interests  of  all 
classes ;  and  the  employing  of  the  masses  in  the  public  service 
at  suitable  seasons. 

"  Let  young  people,"  said  he,  "  show  filial  piety  at  home, 
respectfulness  towards  their  elders  when  away  from  home ;  let 
them  be  circumspect,  be  truthful ;  their  love  going  out  freely 
towards  all,  cultivating  good-will  to  men.  And  if,  in  such  a 
walk,  there  be  time  or  energy  left  for  other  things,  let  them 
employ  it  in  the  acquisition  of  literary  or  artistic  accomplish- 
ments." 

The  disciple  Tsz-hia  said,  "  The  appreciation  of  worth  in  men 
of  worth,  thus  diverting  the  mind  from  lascivious  desires — min- 
istering to  parents  while  one  is  the  most  capable  of  so  doing — 
serving  one's  ruler  when  one  is  able  to  devote  himself  entirely 
to  that  object — being  sincere  in  one's  language  in  intercourse 
with  friends :  this  I  certainly  must  call  evidence  of  learning, 
though  others  may  say  there  has  been  '  no  learning.'  " 

Sayings  of  the  Master : — 

"  If  the  great  man  be  not  grave,  he  will  not  be  revered,  neither 
can  his  learning  be  solid. 

"  Give  prominent  place  to  loyalty  and  sincerity. 

"  Have  no  associates  in  study  who  are  not  advanced  some- 
what like  yourself. 

"  When  you  have  erred,  be  not  afraid  to  correct  yourself." 

A  saying  of  the  Scholar  Tsang: — 

"  The  virtue  of  the  people  is  renewed  and  enriched  when  at- 
tention is  seen  to  be  paid  to  the  departed,  and  the  remembrance 
of  distant  ancestors  kept  and  cherished." 

Tsz-k'in  put  this  query  to  his  fellow  disciple  Tsz-kung :  said 
he,  "  When  our  Master  comes  to  this  or  that  State,  he  learns 
without  fail  how  it  is  being  governed.  Does  he  investigate 
matters  ?  or  are  the  facts  given  him  ?  " 

Tsz-kung  answered,  "  Our  Master  is  a  man  of  pleasant  man- 
ners, and  of  probity,  courteous,  moderate,  and  unassuming:  it 
is  by  his  being  such  that  he  arrives  at  the  facts.  Is  not  his  way 
of  arriving  at  things  different  from  that  of  others  ?  " 

A  saying  of  the  Master : — 

"  He  who,  after  three  years'  observation  of  the  will  of  his 
father  when  alive,  or  of  his  past  conduct  if  dead,  does  not  devi- 


THE   ANALECTS  9 

ate  from  that  father's  ways,  is  entitled  to  be  called  '  a  dutiful 
son.'  " 

Sayings  of  the  Scholar  Yu  : — 

"  For  the  practice  of  the  Rules  of  Propriety,*  one  excellent 
way  is  to  be  natural.  This  qatuj;;aln£ss  became  a  great  grace 
in  the  practice  of  kings  of  former  times ;  let  everyone,  small  or 
great,  follow  their  example. 

"  It  is  not,  however,  always  practicable ;  and  it  is  not  so  in 
the  case  of  a  person  who  does  things  naturally,  knowing  that 
he  should  act  so,  and  yet  who  neglects  to  regulate  his  acts  ac- 
cording to  the  Rules. 

"  When  truth  and  right  are  hand  in  hand,  a  statement  will 
bear  repetition.  When  respectfulness  and  propriety  go  hand 
in  hand,  disgrace  and  shame  are  kept  afar-off.  Remove  all  oc- 
casion for  alienating  those  to  whom  you  are  bound  by  close 
ties,  and  you  have  them  still  to  resort  to." 

A  saying  of  the  Master : — 

"  The  man  of  greater  mind  who,  when  he  is  eating,  craves 
not  to  eat  to  the  full ;  who  has  a  home,  but  craves  not  for  com- 
forts in  it;  who  is  active  and  earnest  in  his  work  and  careful 
in  his  words ;  who  makes  towards  men  of  high  principle,  and  so 
maintains  his  own  rectitude — that  man  may  be  styled  a  devoted 
student." 

Tsz-kung  asked,  "  What  say  you,  sir,  of  the  poor  who  do  not 
cringe  and  fawn ;  and  what  of  the  rich  who  are  without  pride 
and  haughtiness  ?  "  "  They  are  passable,"  the  Master  replied  ; 
"  yet  they  are  scarcely  in  the  same  category  as  the  poor  who  are 
happy,  and  the  rich  who  love  propriety." 

"  In  the  *  Book  of  the  Odes,'  "  Tsz-kung  went  on  to  say,  "  we 
read  of  one 

Polished,  as  by  the  knife  and  file, 
The  graving-tool,  the  smoothing-stone. 

Does  that  coincide  with  your  remark?" 

"  Ah !  such  as  you,"  replied  the  Master,  "  may  well  com- 
mence a  discussion  on  the  Odes.  If  one  tell  you  how  a  thing 
goes,  you  know  what  ought  to  come." 

"  It  does  not  greatly  concern  me,"  said  the  Master,  "  that 
men  do  not  know  me ;  my  great  concern  is,  my  not  knowing 
them." 

^  An  important  part  of  a  Chinaman's       propriety  for  the  whole  life,  from  the 
education    still.    The    text-book,    "  The        cradle  to  the  grave. 
Li  Ki,"  contains  rules  for  behavior  and 


BOOK   II 
Good  Government— Filial  Piety— The  Superior  Man 

SAYINGS  of  the  Master :— 
"  Let  a  ruler  base  his  government  upon  virtuous 
principles,  and  he  will  be  like  the  pole-star,  which  re- 
mains steadfast  in  its  place,  while  all  the  host  of  stars  turn 
towards  it. 

"  The  *  Book  of  Odes  '  contains  three  hundred  pieces,  but  one 
expression  in  it  may  be  taken  as  covering  the  purport  of  all, 
viz.,  Unswerving  mindfulness. 

"  To  govern  simply  by  statute,  and  to  reduce  all  to  order  by 
means  of  pains  and  penalties,  is  to  render  the  people  evasive, 
and  devoid  of  any  sense  of  shame. 

f  "  To  govern  upon  principles  of  virtue,  and  to  reduce  them  to 
order  by  the  Rules  of  Propriety,  would  not  only  create  in  them 
/the  sense_ofj]bafljg^but  would  moreover  reach  them  in  all  their 
j  errors. 

"  When  I  attained  the  age  of  fifteen,  I  became  bent  upon 
study.  At  thirty,  I  was  a  confirmed  student.  At  forty,  nought 
could  move  me  from  my  course.  At  fifty,  I  comprehended  the 
will  and  decrees  of  Heaven.  At  sixty,  my  ears  were  attuned 
to  them.  At  seventy,  I  could  follow  my  heart's  desires,  without 
overstepping  the  lines  of  rectitude." 

To  a  question  of  Mang-i,  as  to  what  filial  piety  consisted  in, 
the  master  replied,  "  In  not  being  perverse."  Afterwards, 
when  Fan  Ch'i  was  driving  him,  the  Master  informed  him  of 
this  question  and  answer,  and  Fan  Ch'i  asked,  "  What  was  your 
meaning?"  The  Master  replied,  "  I  meant  that  the  Rules  of 
Propriety  should  always  be  adhered  to  in  regard  to  those  who 
brought  us  into  the  world  :  in  ministering  to  them  while  living, 
in  burying  them  when  dead,  and  afterwards  in  the  offering  to 
them  of  sacrificial  gifts." 

To  a  query  of  Mang  Wu  respecting  filial  piety,  the  Master 


THE   ANALECTS  11 

replied,  "  Parents  ought  to  bear  but  one  trouble — that  of  their 
own  sickness." 

To  a  like  question  put  by  Tsz-yu,  his  reply  was  this :  "  The 
filial  piety  of  the  present  day  simply  means  the  being  able  to 
support  one's  parents — which  extends  even  to  the  case  of  dogs 
and  horses,  all  of  which  may  have  something  to  give  in  the  way 
of  support.  If  there  be  no  reverential  feeling  in  the  matter, 
what  is  there  to  distinguish  between  the  cases?  " 

To  a  like  question  of  Tsz-hia,  he  replied :  '*  The  manner  is 
the  difficulty.  If,  in  the  case  of  work  to  be  done,  the  younger 
folks  simply  take  upon  themselves  the  toil  of  it ;  or  if,  in  the 
matter  of  meat  and  drink,  they  simply  set  these  before  their 
elders — is  this  to  be  taken  as  filial  piety  ?  " 

Once  the  Master  remarked,  "  I  have  conversed  with  Hwui 
the  whole  day  long,  and  he  has  controverted  nothing  that  I  have 
said,  as  if  he  were  without  wits.  But  when  his  back  was 
turned,  and  I  looked  attentively  at  his  conduct  apart  from  me, 
I  found  it  satisfactory  in  all  its  issues.  No,  indeed !  Hwui  is  not 
without  his  wits." 

Other  observations  of  the  Master : — 

"  If  you  observe  what  things  people  (usually)  take  in  hand, 
watch  their  motives,  and  note  particularly  what  it  is  that  gives 
them  satisfaction,  shall  they  be  able  to  conceal  from  you  what 
they  are  ?     Conceal  themselves,  indeed  ! 

"  Be  versed  in  ancient  lore,  and  familiarize  yourself  with  the 
modern  ;  then  may  you  become  teachers. 

"  The  great  man  is  not  a  mere  receptacle." 

In  reply  to  Tsz-kung  respecting  the  great  man : — 

"  What  he  first  says,  as  a  result  of  his  experience,  he  after- 
wards follows  up. 

"  The  great  man  is  catholic-minded,  and  not  one-sided.  The 
common  man  is  the  reverse. 

"  Learning,  without  thought,  is  a  snare ;  thought,  without 
learning,  is  a  danger. 

"  Where  the  mind  is  set  much  upon  heterodox  principles — 
there  truly  and  indeed  is  harm." 

To  the  disciple  Tsz-lu  the  Master  said,  "  Shall  I  give  you  a 
lesson  about  knowledge?  When  you  know  a  thing,  maintain 
that  you  know  it ;  and  when  you  do  not,  acknowledge  your 
ignorance.     This  is  characteristic  of  knowledge." 

Tsz-chang  was  studying  with  an  eye  to  official  income.     The 


12  CONFUCIUS 

Master  addressed  him  thus :  "  Of  the  many  things  you  hear 
hold  aloof  from  those  that  are  doubtful,  and  speak  guardedly 
with  reference  to  the  rest;  your  mistakes  will  then  be  few. 
Also,  of  the  many  courses  you  see  adopted,  hold  aloof  from 
those  that  are  risky,  and  carefully  follow  the  others ;  you  will 
then  seldom  have  occasion  for  regret.  Thus,  being  seldom 
mistaken  in  your  utterances,  and  having  few  occasions  for  re- 
gret in  the  line  you  take,  you  are  on  the  high  road  to  your 
preferment." 

To  a  question  put  to  him  by  Duke  Ngai^  as  to  what  should 
be  done  in  order  to  render  the  people  submissive  to  authority, 
Confucius  replied,  "  Promote  the  straightforward,  and  reject 
those  whose  courses  are  crooked,  and  the  thing  will  be  effected. 
Promote  the  crooked  and  reject  the  straightforward,  and  the 
effect  will  be  the  reverse." 

When  Ki  K'ang^  asked  of  him  how  the  people  could  be  in- 
duced to  show  respect,  loyalty,  and  willingness  to  be  led,  the 
Master  answered,  "  Let  there  be  grave  dignity  in  him  who  has 
the  oversight  of  them,  and  they  will  show  him  respect ;  let  him 
be  seen  to  be  good  to  his  own  parents,  and  kindly  in  disposition, 
and  they  will  be  loyal  to  him  ;  let  him  promote  those  who  have 
abiHty,  and  see  to  the  instruction  of  those  who  have  it  not,  and 
they  will  be  willing  to  be  led." 

Some  one,  speaking  to  Confucius,  inquired,  "  Why,  sir,  are 
you  not  an  administrator  of  government  ?  "  The  Master  re- 
joined, "  What  says  the  '  Book  of  the  Annals,'  with  reference  to 
filial  duty  ?— '  Make  it  a  point  to  be  dutiful  to  your  parents  and 
amicable  with  your  brethren;  the  same  duties  extend  to  an 
administrator.'  If  these,  then,  also  make  an  administrator, 
how  am  I  to  take  your  words  about  being  an  adminis- 
trator?" 

On  one  occasion  the  Master  remarked,  "  I  know  not  what 
men  are  good  for,  on  whose  word  no  reliance  can  be  placed. 
How  should  your  carriages,  large  or  little,  get  along  without 
your  whipple-trees  or  swing-trees  ?  " 

Tsz-chang  asked  if  it  were  possible  to  forecast  the  state  of 
the  country  ten  generations  hence.  The  Master  replied  in  this 
manner:  "The  Yin  dynasty  adopted  the  rules  and  manners 
of  the  Hia  line  of  kings,  and  it  is  possible  to  tell  whether  it  ret- 

»Of  Lu   (Confucius's  native  State). 

•  Head  of  one  of  the  "  Three   Families      of  Lu. 


THE  ANALECTS  13 

rograded  or  advanced.  The  Chow  line  has  followed  the  Yin, 
adopting  its  ways,  and  whether  there  has  been  deterioration  or 
improvement  may  also  be  determined.  Some  other  line  may 
take  up  in  turn  those  of  Chow ;  and  supposing  even  this  process 
to  go  on  for  a  hundred  generations,  the  result  may  be  known." 

Other  sayings  of  the  Master: — 

"  It  is  but  flattery  to  make  sacrificial  offerings  to  departed  v 
spirits  not  belonging  to  one's  own  family,  \ 

"  It  is  moral  cowardice  to  leave  undone  what  one  perceives 
to  be  right  to  do."  ^ 


BOOK   III 
Abuse  of  Proprieties  in  Ceremonial  and  Music 

ALLUDING  to  the  head  of  the  Ki  family/  and  the  eight 
lines  of  posturers  ^  before  their  ancestral  hall,  Con- 
fucius remarked,  "  If  the  Ki  can  allow  himself  to  go  to 
this  extent,  to  what  extent  will  he  not  allow  himself  to  go  ?  " 

The  Three  Families"  were  in  the  habit,  during  the  Removal 
of  the  sacred  vessels  after  sacrifice,  of  using  the  hymn  com- 
mencing 

"  Harmoniously  the  Princes 

Draw  near  with  reverent  tread, 
Assisting  in  his  worship 
Heaven's  Son,  the  great  and  dread." 

"  How,"  exclaimed  the  Master,  "  can  such  words  be  ap- 
propriated in  the  ancestral  hall  of  the  Three  Families?  " 

"  Where  a  man,"  said  he  again,  "  has  not  the  proper  feelings 
due  from  one  man  to  another,  how  will  he  stand  as  regards  the 
Rules  of  Propriety?  And  in  such  a  case,  what  shall  we  say  of 
his  sense  of  harmony  ?  " 

On  a  question  being  put  to  him  by  Lin  Fang,  a  disciple,  as 
to  what  was  the  radical  idea  upon  which  the  Rules  of  Propriety 
were  based,  the  Master  exclaimed,  "  Ah !  that  is  a  large  ques- 
tion. As  to  some  rules,  where  there  is  likelihood  of  extrava- 
gance, they  would  rather  demand  economy ;  in  those  which 
relate  to  mourning,  and  where  there  is  likelihood  of  being  easily 
satisfied,  what  is  wanted  is  real  sorrow." 

Speaking  of  the  disorder  of  the  times  he  remarked  that  while 

*  The  Chief  of  the  Ki  clan  was  virtu-  official  had  four,  and  one  of  lower  grade 

ally  the  Duke  of  Lu,  under  whom  Con-  two.    These  were  the  gradations  mark- 

fucius  for  a  time  held  office.  ing    the    status    of    families,    and    Con- 

"  These    posturers    were    mutes    who  fucius's  sense  of  propriety  was  offended 

took  part  in  the  ritual  of  the  ancestral  at   the    Ki's   usurping   in   this    way   the 

temple,  waving  plumes,  flags,  etc.    Each  appearance  of  royalty, 

line   or   rank   of   these    contained   eight  '  Three  great  families  related  to  each 

men.     Only    in    the    sovereign's    house-  other,   in   whose  hands  the   government 

hold  should  there  have  been  eight  lines  of  the    State   of   Lu   then   was,    and   of 

of    them;    a    ducal    family    like    the    Ki  which  the  Ki  was  the  chief, 
should  have  had  but  six  lines;  a  great 


THE  ANALECTS  15 

the  barbarians  on  the  North  and  East  had  their  Chieftains,  we 
here  in  this  great  country  had  nothing  to  compare  with  them 
in  that  respect : — we  had  lost  these  distinctions  ! 

Alluding  to  the  matter  of  the  Chief  of  the  Ki  family  worship- 
ping on  T'ai-shan/  the  Master  said  to  Yen  Yu,  "  Cannot  you 
save  him  from  this  ?  "  He  replied,  "  It  is  beyond  my  power." 
"  Alas,  alas !  "  exclaimed  the  Master,  "  are  we  to  say  that  the 
spirits  of  T'ai-shan  have  not  as  much  discernment  as  Lin 
Fang?" 

Of  "  the  superior  man,"  the  Master  observed,  "  In  him 
there  is  no  contentiousness.  Say  even  that  he  does  certainly 
contend  with  others,  as  in  archery  competitions ;  yet  mark,  in 
that  case,  how  courteously  he  will  bow  and  go  up  for  the  forfeit- 
cup,  and  come  down  again  and  give  it  to  his  competitor.  In 
his  very  contest  he  is  still  the  superior  man." 

Tsz-hia  once  inquired  what  inference  might  be  drawn  from 
the  lines — 

"  Dimples  playing  in  witching  smile, 
Beautiful  eyes,  so  dark,  so  bright ! 
Oh,  and  her  face  may  be  thought  the  while 
Colored  by  art,  red  rose  on  white !  " 

"  Coloring,"  repHed  the  Master,  "  requires  a  pure  and  clear 
background."  "  Then,"  said  the  other,  "  rules  of  ceremony 
require  to  have  a  background !  "  "  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  the  Mas- 
ter, "  you  are  the  man  to  catch  the  drift  of  my  thought.  Such 
as  you  may  well  introduce  a  discussion  on  the  Odes." 

Said  the  Master,  "  As  regards  the  ceremonial  adopted  and 
enforced  by  the  Hia  dynasty,  I  am  able  to  describe  it,  although 
their  own  descendants  in  the  State  of  Ki  can  adduce  no  ade- 
quate testimony  in  favor  of  its  use  there.  So,  too,  I  am  able  to 
describe  the  ceremonial  of  the  Yin  dynasty,  although  no  more 
can  the  Sung  people  show  suilficient  reason  for  its  continuance 
amongst  themselves.  And  why  cannot  they  do  so?  Because 
they  have  not  documents  enough,  nor  men  learned  enough. 
If  only  they  had  such,  I  could  refer  them  to  them  in  support  of 
their  usages. 

"  When  I  am  present  at  the  great  quinquennial  sacrifice  to 
the  manes  of  the  royal  ancestors,"  the  Master  said,  "  from  the 
pouring-out  of  the  oblation  onwards,  I  have  no  heart  to  look 
on. 

*  One  of  the   five   sacred   mountains,  worshipped  upon  only  by  the  sovereign. 


i6  CONFUCIUS 

Some  one  asked  what  was  the  purport  of  this  great  sacrifice, 
and  the  Master  replied,  "  I  cannot  tell.  The  position  in  the 
empire  of  him  who  could  tell  you  is  as  evident  as  when  you  look 
at  this  " — pointing  to  the  palm  of  his  hand. 

When  he  offered  sacrifices  to  his  ancestors,  he  used  to  act  as 
if  they  were  present  before  him.  In  offering  to  other  spirits 
it  was  the  same. 

He  would  say,  "  If  I  do  not  myself  take  part  in  my  offerings, 
it  is  all  the  same  as  if  I  did  not  offer  them." 

Wang-sun  Kia  asked  him  once,  "  What  says  the  proverb, 
'  Better  to  court  favor  in  the  kitchen  than  in  the  drawing- 
room  '  ?  "  The  Master  replied,  "  Nay,  better  say,  He  who  has 
sinned  against  Heaven  has  none  other  to  whom  prayer  may  be 
addressed." 

Of  the  Chow  dynasty  the  Master  remarked,  "  It  looks  back 
upon  two  other  dynasties ;  and  what  a  rich  possession  it  has  in 
its  records  of  those  times !     I  follow  Chow !  " 

On  his  first  entry  into  the  grand  temple,  he  inquired  about 
every  matter  connected  with  its  usages.  Some  one  thereupon 
remarked,  "  Who  says  that  the  son  of  the  man  of  Tsou^  under- 
stands about  ceremonial?  On  entering  the  grand  temple  he 
inquired  about  everything."  This  remark  coming  to  the  Mas- 
ter's ears,  he  said,  "  What  I  did  is  part  of  the  ceremonial !  " 

"  In  archery,"  he  said,  "  the  great  point  to  be  observed  is  not 
simply  the  perforation  of  the  leather ;  for  men  have  not  all  the 
same  strength.     That  was  the  fashion  in  the  olden  days." 

Once,  seeing  that  his  disciple  Tsz-kung  was  desirous  that  the 
ceremonial  observance  of  offering  a  sheep  at  the  new  moon 
might  be  dispensed  with,  the  Master  said,  "  Ah !  you  grudge 
the  loss  of  the  sheep ;  I  grudge  the  loss  of  the  ceremony." 

"  To  serve  one's  ruler  nowadays,"  he  remarked,  "  fully  com- 
plying with  the  Rules  of  Propriety,  is  regarded  by  others  as 
toadyism !  " 

When  Duke  Ting  questioned  him  as  to  how  a  prince  should 
deal  with  his  ministers,  and  how  they  in  turn  should  serve  their 
prince,  Confucius  said  in  reply,  "  In  dealing  with  his  ministers 
a  prince  should  observe  the  proprieties  ;  in  serving  his  prince  a 
minister  should  observe  the  duty  of  loyalty." 

Referring  to  the  First  of  the  Odes,  he  remarked  that  it  was 

•Tsou  was  Confucius's  birthplace;  his  father  was  governor  of  the  town. 


THE   ANALECTS  17 

mirthful  without  being  lewd,  and  sad  also  without  being 
painful. 

Duke  Ngai  asked  the  disciple  Tsai  Wo  respecting  the  places 
for  sacrificing  to  the  Earth.  The  latter  replied,  "  The  Family 
of  the  Great  Yu,  of  the  Hia  dynasty,  chose  a  place  of  pine  trees ; 
the  Yin  founders  chose  cypresses;  and  the  Chow  founders 
chestnut  trees,  solemn  and  majestic,  to  inspire,  'tis  said,  the 
people  with  feelings  of  awe." 

The  Master  on  hearing  of  this  exclaimed,  "  Never  an  allu- 
sion to  things  that  have  been  enacted  in  the  past !  Never  a  re- 
monstrance against  what  is  now  going  on  !  He  has  gone  away 
without  a  word  of  censure." 

The  Master  once  said  of  Kwan  Chung,®  "  A  small-minded 
man  indeed !  " 

"  Was  he  miserly?  "  some  one  asked. 

"  Miserly,  indeed  !  "  said  he  ;  "  not  that :  he  married  three 
times,  and  he  was  not  a  man  who  restricted  his  official  business 
to  too  few  hands — how  could  he  be  miserly  ?  " 

"  He  knew  the  Rules  of  Propriety,  I  suppose?  " 

"  Judge : — Seeing  that  the  feudal  lords  planted  a  screen  at 
their  gates,  he  too  would  have  one  at  his !  Seeing  that  when 
any  two  of  the  feudal  lords  met  in  friendly  conclave  they  had 
an  earthenware  stand  on  which  to  place  their  inverted  cups  after 
drinking,  he  must  have  the  same !  If  he  knew  the  Rules  of 
Propriety,  who  is  there  that  does  not  know  them?  " 

In  a  discourse  to  the  Chief  Preceptor  of  Music  at  the  court 
of  Lu,  the  Master  said,  "  Music  is  an  intelligible  thing.  When 
you  begin  a  performance,  let  all  the  various  instruments  pro- 
duce as  it  were  one  sound  (inharmonious) ;  then,  as  you  go  on, 
bring  out  the  harmony  fully,  distinctly,  and  with  uninterrupted 
flow,  unto  the  end." 

The  warden  of  the  border-town  of  I  requested  an  interview 
with  Confucius,  and  said,  "  When  great  men  have  come  here,  I 
have  never  yet  failed  to  obtain  a  sight  of  them."  The  followers 
introduced  him ;  and,  on  leaving,  he  said  to  them,  "  Sirs,  why 
grieve  at  his  loss  of  ofBce?  The  empire  has  for  long  been 
without  good  government ;  and  Heaven  is  about  to  use  your 
master  as  its  edict-announcer." 

*  A    renowned    statesman    who    flour-  been  written  by  him,  is  still  extant.    He 

ished    about    two   hundred   years   before  was  regarded  as  a  sage   by  the   people, 

Confucius's  time.    A  philosophical  work  but  he  lacked,   in   Confucius's  eyes,  the 

'>n    law    and    government,    said    to   have  one  thing  needful — propriety. 

Vol..  IV.- 2 


i8  CONFUCIUS 

Comparing  the  music  of  the  emperor  Shun  with  the  music 
of  King  Wu,  the  Master  said,  "That  of  Shun  is  beautiful 
throughout,  and  also  good  throughout.  That  of  Wu  is  all  of  it 
beautiful,  but  scarcely  all  of  it  good." 

"  High  station,"  said  the  Master,  "  occupied  by  men  who 
have  no  large  and  generous  heart ;  ceremonial  performed  with 
no  reverence;  duties  of  mourning  engaging  the  attention, 
where  there  is  absence  of  sorrow; — how  should  I  look  on, 
where  this  is  the  state  of  things  ?  " 


BOOK   IV 
Social  Virtue — Superior  and  Inferior  Man 

SAYINGS  of  the  Master  :— 
"It  is   social  -good,  i  eeling  that  gives  charm  to  a 
neighborhood.     And   where   is   the   wisdom   of   those 
who  choose  an  abode  where  it  does  not  abide? 

"  Those  who  are  without  it  cannot  abide  long,  either  in  strait- 
ened or  in  happy  circumstances.  Those  who  possess  it  find 
contentment  in  it.  Those  who  are  wise  go  after  it  as  men  go 
after  gain. 

"  Only  they  in  whom  it  exists  can  have  right  likings  and  dis- 
likings  for  others. 

"  Where  the  will  is  set  upon  it,  there  will  be  no  room  for 
malpractices. 

"  Riches  and  honor  are  what  men  desire ;  but  if  they  arrive 
at  them  by  improper  ways,  they  should  not  continue  to  hold 
them.  Poverty  and  low  estate  are  what  men  dislike ;  but  if 
they  arrive  at  such  a  condition  by  improper  ways,  they  should 
not  refuse  it. 

"  If  the  '  superior  man  '  make  nought  of  social  good  feel- 
ing,  how  shall  he  fully  bear  that  name  ? 

"  Not  even  whilst  he  eats  his  meal  will  the  *  superior  man  ' 
forget  what  he  owes  to  his  fellow-men.  Even  in  hurried  leave- 
takings,  even  in  moments  of  frantic  confusion,  he  keeps  true  to 
this  virtue. 

"  I  have  not  yet  seen  a  lover  of  philanthropy,  nor  a  hater  of 
misanthropy — such,  that  the  former  did  not  take  occasion  to 
magnify  that  virtue  in  himself,  and  that  the  latter,  in  his  posi- 
tive practice  of  philanthropy,  did  not,  at  times,  allow  in  his 
presence  something  savoring  of  misanthropy. 

"  Say  you,  is  there  any  one  who  is  able  for  one  whole  day  to 
apply  the  energy  of  his  mind  to  this  virtue?     Well,  I  have  not 
seen  any  one  whose  energy  was  not  equal  to  it.     It  may  be 
there  are  such,  but  I  have  never  met  with  them. 
19 


20  CONFUCIUS 

"  The  faults  of  individuals  are  peculiar  to  their  particular 
class  and  surroundings ;  and  it  is  by  observing  their  faults  that 
one  comes  to  understand  the  condition  of  their  good  feelings 
towards  their  fellows. 

"  One  may  hear  the  right  way  in  the  morning,  and  at  evening 
die. 

"  The  scholar  who  is  intent  upon  learning  the  right  way,  and 
who  is  yet  ashamed  of  poor  attire  and  poor  food,  is  not  worthy 
of  being  discoursed  with. 

"  The  masterly  man's  attitude  to  the  world  is  not  exclusively 
this  or  that :  whatsoever  is  right,  to  that  he  will  be  a  party. 

"  The  masterly  man  has  an  eye  to  virtue,  the  common  man,  to 
earthly  things ;  the  former  has  an  eye  to  penalties  for  error — 
the  latter,  to  favor. 

"  Where  there  is  habitual  going  after  gain,  there  is  much  ill- 
will. 

"  When  there  is  ability  in  a  ruler  to  govern  a  country  by  ad- 
hering to  the  Rules  of  Propriety,  and  by  kindly  condescension, 
what  is  wanted  more?  Where  the  ability  to  govern  thus  is 
wanting,  what  has  such  a  ruler  to  do  with  the  Rules  of  Pro- 
priety ? 

"  One  should  not  be  greatly  concerned  at  not  being  in  office  ; 
but  rather  about  the  requirements  in  one's  self  for  such  a  stand- 
ing. Neither  should  one  be  so  much  concerned  at  being  un- 
known ;  but  rather  with  seeking  to  become  worthy  of  being 
known." 

Addressing  his  disciple  Tsang  Sin,  the  Master  said,  "  Tsang 
Sin,  the  principles  which  I  inculcate  have  one  main  idea  upon 
which  they  all  hang."     "  Aye,  surely,"  he  replied. 

When  the  Master  was  gone  out  the  other  disciples  asked 
what  was  the  purport  of  this  remark.  Tsang's  answer  was, 
"The  principles  of  our  Master's  teaching  are  these — whole- 
heartedness  and  kindly  forbearance  ;  these  and  nothing  more." 

Other  observations  of  the  Master : — 

"  Men  of  loftier  mind  manifest  themselves  in  their  equitable 
dealings ;  small-minded  men  in  their  going  after  gain. 

"  When  you  meet  with  men  of  worth,  think  how  you  may  at- 
tain to  their  level ;  when  you  see  others  of  an  opposite  char- 
acter, look  within,  and  examine  yourself. 

"  A  son,  in  ministering  to  his  parents,  may  (on  occasion) 
ofifer  gentle  remonstrances ;  when  he  sees  that  their  will  is  not 


THE   ANALECTS  21 

to  heed  such,  he  should  nevertheless  still  continue  to  show 
them  reverent  respect,  never  obstinacy  ;  and  if  he  have  to  suffer, 
let  him  do  so  without  murmuring. 

"  Whilst  the  parents  are  still  living,  he  should  not  wander 
far ;  or,  if  a  wanderer,  he  should  at  least  have  some  fixed  ad- 
dress. 

"  If  for  three  years  he  do  not  veer  from  the  principles  of  his 
father,  he  may  be  called  a  dutiful  son. 

"  A  son  should  not  ignore  the  years  of  his  parents.  On  the 
one  hand,  they  may  be  a  matter  for  rejoicing  (that  they  have 
been  so  many),  and  on  the  other,  for  apprehension  (that  so  few 
remain). 

"  People  in  olden  times  were  loth  to  speak  out,  fearing  the 
disgrace  of  not  being  themselves  as  good  as  their  words. 

"  Those  who  keep  within  restraints  are  seldom  losers. 

"  To  be  slow  to  speak,  but  prompt  to  act,  is  the  desire  of  the 
'  superior  man.' 

"  Virtue  dwells  not  alone  :  she  must  have  neighbors." 

An  observation  of  Tsz-yu  : — 

"  Officiousness,  in  the  service  of  princes,  leads  to  disgrace ; 
among  friends,  to  estrangement." 


/ 


BOOK  V 
A  Disciple  and  the  Golden  Rule — Miscellaneous 

THE  Master  pronounced  Kung-ye  Ch'ang,  a  disciple,  to 
be  a  marriageable  person ;  for  although  lying  bound  in 
criminal  fetters  he  had  committed  no  crime.  And  he 
gave  him  his  own  daughter  to  wife. 

Of  Nan  Yung,  a  disciple,  he  observed,  that  in  a  State  where 
the  government  was  well  conducted  he  would  not  be  passed 
over  in  its  appointments,  and  in  one  where  the  government  was 
ill  conducted  he  would  evade  punishment  and  disgrace.  And 
he  caused  his  elder  brother's  daughter  to  be  given  in  marriage 
to  him. 

Of  Tsz-tsien,  a  disciple,  he  remarked,  "  A  superior  man  in- 
deed is  the  like  of  him !  But  had  there  been  none  of  superior 
quality  in  Lu,  how  should  this  man  have  attained  to  this  excel- 
lence? " 

Tsz-kung  asked,  "  What  of  me,  then  ?  "  "  You,"  replied  the 
Master — "  You  are  a  receptacle."  "  Of  what  sort?  "  said  he. 
"  One  for  high  and  sacred  use,"  was  the  answer. 

Some  one  having  observed  of  Yen  Yung  that  he  was  good- 
natured  towards  others,  but  that  he  lacked  the  gift  of  ready 
speech,  the  Master  said,  "  What  need  of  that  gift?  To  stand 
up  before  men  and  pour  forth  a  stream  of  glib  words  is  generally 
to  make  yourself  obnoxious  to  them.  I  know  not  about  his 
good-naturedness  ;  but  at  any  rate  what  need  of  that  gift  ?  " 

When  the  Master  proposed  that  Tsi-tiau  K'ai  should  enter 
the  government  service,  the  latter  replied,  "  I  can  scarcely 
credit  it."     The  Master  was  gratified. 

"  Good  principles  are  making  no  progress,"  once  exclaimed 
the  Master.  "  If  I  were  to  take  a  raft,  and  drift  about  on  the 
sea,  would  Tsz-lu,  I  wonder,  be  my  follower  there?"  That 
disciple  was  delighted  at  hearing  the  suggestion ;  whereupon 
the  Master  continued,  "  He  surpasses  me  in  his  love  of  deeds  of 

22 


THE   ANALECTS  43 

daring.  But  he  does  not  in  the  least  grasp  the  pith  of  my 
remark." 

In  reply  to  a  question  put  to  him  by  Mang  Wu  respecting 
Tsz-lu — as  to  whether  he  might  be  called  good-natured  towards 
others,  the  Master  said,  "  I  cannot  tell  " ;  but,  on  the  question 
being  put  again,  he  answered,  "  Well,  in  an  important  State  ^^ 
he  might  be  intrusted  with  the  management  of  the  military 
levies ;  but  I  cannot  answer  for  his  good  nature." 

"  What  say  you  then  of  Yen  Yu  ?  " 

"  As  for  Yen,"  he  replied,  "  in  a  city  of  a  thousand  families,  or 
in  a  secondary  fief,"  he  might  be  charged  with  the  governor- 
ship ;  but  I  cannot  answer  for  his  good-naturedness." 

"  Take  Tsz-hwa,  then  ;  what  of  him  ?  " 

"  Tsz-hwa,"  said  he,  "  with  a  cincture  girt  upon  him,  standing 
as  attendant  at  Court,  might  be  charged  with  the  addressing  of 
visitors  and  guests ;  but  as  to  his  good-naturedness  I  cannot 
answer." 

Addressing  Tsz-kung,  the  Master  said,  "  Which  of  the  two 
is  ahead  of  the  other — yourself  or  Hwui  ?  "  "  How  shall  I 
dare,"  he  replied,  "  even  to  look  at  Hwui  ?  Only  let  him  hear 
one  particular,  and  from  that  he  knows  ten ;  whereas  I,  if  I  hear 
one,  may  from  it  know  two." 

"  You  are  not  a  match  for  him,  I  grant  you,"  said  the  Master. 
"  You  are  not  his  match." 

Tsai  Yu,  a  disciple,  used  to  sleep  in  the  daytime.  Said  the 
Master,  "  One  may  hardly  carve  rotten  wood,  or  use  a  trowel 
to  the  wall  of  a  manure-yard !  In  his  case,  what  is  the  use  of 
reprimand  ? 

"  My  attitude  towards  a  man  in  my  first  dealings  with  him," 
he  added,  "  was  to  listen  to  his  professions  and  to  trust  to  his 
conduct.  My  attitude  now  is  to  listen  to  his  professions,  and  to 
watch  his  conduct.  My  experience  with  Tsai  Yu  has  led  to 
"tills  change. 

"  I  have  never  seen,"  said  the  Master,  "  a  man  of  inflexible 
firmness."  Some  one  thereupon  mentioned  Shin  Ch'ang,  a  dis- 
ciple. "  Ch'ang,"  said  he,  "  is  wanton ;  where  do  you  get  at 
his  inflexibleness?  " 

Tsz-kung  made  the  remark :  "  That  which  I  do  not  wish 
others  to  put  upon  me,  I  also  wish  not  to  put  upon  others." 
"  Nay,"  said  the  Master,  "  you  have  not  got  so  far  as  that." 

"  Lit.,   a   State  of   1,000  war  chariots.         "  Lit.,   a   House   of    lOO  war   chariots. 


44  CONFUCIUS 

The  same  disciple  once  remarked,  "  There  may  be  access  so 
as  to  hear  the  Master's  Hterary  discourses,  but  when  he  is  treat- 
ing of  human  nature  and  the  way  of  Heaven,  there  may  not  be 
such  success." 

Tsz-lu,  after  once  hearing  him  upon  some  subject,  and  feel- 
ing himself  as  yet  incompetent  to  carry  into  practice  what  he 
had  heard,  used  to  be  apprehensive  only  lest  he  should  hear  the 
subject  revived. 

Tsz-kung  asked  how  it  was  that  Kung  Wan  had  come  to  be 
so  styled  Wan  (the  talented).  The  Master's  answer  was, 
"  Because,  though  a  man  of  an  active  nature,  he  was  yet  fond 
of  study,  and  he  was  not  ashamed  to  stoop  to  put  questions  to 
his  inferiors." 

Respecting  Tsz-ch'an/'  the  Master  said  that  he  had  four  of 
the  essential  qualities  of  the  '  superior  man  ' : — in  his  own  pri- 
vate walk  he  was  humble-minded ;  in  serving  his  superiors  he 
was  deferential ;  in  his  looking  after  the  material  welfare  of  the 
people  he  was  generously  kind ;  and  in  his  exaction  of  public 
service  from  the  latter  he  was  just. 

Speaking  of  Yen  Ping,  he  said,  "  He  was  one  who  was  happy 
in  his  mode  of  attaching  men  to  him.  However  long  the  inter- 
course, he  was  always  deferential  to  them." 

Referring  to  Tsang  Wan,  he  asked,  "  What  is  to  be  said  of 
this  man's  discernment? — this  man  with  his  tortoise-house, 
with  the  pillar-heads  and  posts  bedizened  with  scenes  of  hill  and 
mere !  " 

Tsz-chang  put  a  question  relative  to  the  chief  Minister  of 
Tsu,  Tsz-wan.  He  said,  "  Three  times  he  became  chief  Min- 
ister, and  on  none  of  these  occasions  did  he  betray  any  sign  of 
exultation.  Three  times  his  ministry  came  to  an  end,  and  he 
showed  no  sign  of  chagrin.  He  used  without  fail  to  inform  the 
new  Minister  as  to  the  old  mode  of  administration.  What  say 
you  of  him?  " 

"  That  he  was  a  loyal  man,"  said  the  Master. 

"  But  was  he  a  man  of  fellow-feeling?  "  said  the  disciple. 

"  Of  that  I  am  not  sure,"  he  answered  ;  "  how  am  I  to  get  at 
that  ?  " 

The  disciple  went  on  to  say : — "  After  the  assassination  of 
the  prince  of  Ts'i  by  the  oflficer  Ts'ui,  the  latter's  fellow-ofificial 
Ch'in  Wan,  who  had  half  a  score  teams  of  horses,  gave  up  all, 

!■''  A  great  statesman  of  Confuciiis's  time. 


THE  ANALECTS  45 

and  turned  his  back  upon  him.  On  coming  to  another  State, 
he  observed,  '  There  are  here  characters  somewhat  Hke  that  of 
our  minister  Ts'ui,'  and  he  turned  his  back  upon  them.  Pro- 
ceeding to  a  certain  other  State,  he  had  occasion  to  make  the 
same  remark,  and  left.     What  say  you  of  him  ?  " 

"  That  he  was  a  pure-minded  man,"  answered  the  Master. 

"  But  was  he  a  man  of  fellow-feeHng?  "  urged  the  disciple. 

"  Of  that  I  am  not  sure,"  he  repHed ;  "  how  am  I  to  get  at 
that?" 

Ki  Wan  was  one  who  thought  three  times  over  a  thing  before 
he  acted.  The  Master  hearing  this  of  him,  observed,  "  Twice 
would  have  been  enough." 

Of  Ning  Wu,  the  Master  said  that  when  matters  went  well  in 
the  State  he  used  to  have  his  wits  about  him :  but  when  they 
went  wrong,  he  lost  them.  'His  intelligence  might  be  equalled, 
but  not  his  witlessness  ! 

Once,  when  the  Master  lived  in  the  State  of  Ch'in,  he  ex- 
claimed, "  Let  me  get  home  again !  Let  me  get  home !  My 
school-children^^  are  wild  and  impetuous!  Though  they  are 
somewhat  accomplished,  and  perfect  in  one  sense  in  their  at- 
tainments, yet  they  know  not  how  to  make  nice  discrimina- 
tions." 

Of  Peh-I  and  Shuh  Ts'i  he  said,  "  By  the  fact  of  their  not  re- 
membering old  grievances,  they  gradually  did  away  with  re- 
sentment." 

Of  Wei-shang  Kau  he  said,  "  Who  calls  him  straightfor- 
ward? A  person  once  begged  some  vinegar  of  him,  and  he 
begged  it  from  a  neighbor,  and  then  presented  him  with  it !  " 

"  Fine  speech,"  said  he,  "  and  studied  mien,  and  superfluous 
show  of  deference  —  of  such  things  Tso-k'iu  Ming  was 
ashamed.  I  too  am  ashamed  of  such  things.  Also  of  hiding 
resentment  felt  towards  an  opponent  and  treating  him  as  a 
friend — of  this  kind  of  thing  he  was  ashamed,  and  so  too  am  L" 

Attended  once  by  the  two  disciples  Yen  Yuen  and  Tsz-lu,  he 
said,  "  Come  now,  why  not  tell  me,  each  of  you,  what  in  your 
hearts  you  are  really  after?  " 

"  I  should  like,"  said  Tsz-lu,  "  for  myself  and  my  friends  and 
associates,  carriages  and  horses,  and  to  be  clad  in  light  furs! 
nor  would  I  mind  much  if  they  should  become  the  worse  for 
wear." 

>»  A  familiar  way  o(  speaking  of  his  disciples  in  their  hearing. 


26  CONFUCIUS 

"  And  I  should  like,"  said  Yen  Yuen,  "  to  live  without  boast- 
ing of  my  abilities,  and  without  display  of  meritorious  deeds." 

Tsz-lu  then  said,  "  I  should  like,  sir,  to  hear  what  your  heart 
is  set  upon." 

The  Master  replied,  "  It  is  this : — in  regard  to  old  people,  to 
give  them  quiet  and  comfort ;  in  regard  to  friends  and  associ- 
ates, to  be  faithful  to  them ;  in  regard  to  the  young,  to  treat 
them  with  fostering  affection  and  kindness." 

On  one  occasion  the  Master  exclaimed,  "  Ah,  'tis  hopeless ! 
I  have  not  yet  seen  the  man  who  can  see  his  errors,  so  as  in- 
wardly to  accuse  himself." 

"  In  a  small  cluster  of  houses  there  may  well  be,"  said  he, 
"  some  whose  integrity  and  sincerity  may  compare  with  mine ; 
but  I  yield  to  none  in  point  of  love  of  learning." 


BOOK  VI 

More  Characteristics — Wisdom — Philanthropy 

OF  Yen  Yung,  a  disciple/  the  Master  said,  "  Yung  might 
indeed  do  for  a  prince  !  " 

On  being  asked  by  this  Yen  Yung  his  opinion  of  a 
certain  individual,  the  Master  repHed,  "  He  is  passable.  Im- 
petuous, though." 

"  But,"  argued  the  disciple,  "  if  a  man  habituate  himself  to  a 
reverent  regard  for  duty — even  while  in  his  way  of  doing  things 
he  is  impetuous — in  the  oversight  of  the  people  committed  to 
his  charge,  is  he  not  passable  ?  If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  habitu- 
ate himself  to  impetuosity  of  mind,  and  show  it  also  in  his  way 
of  doing  things,  is  he  not  then  over-impetuous  ?  " 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  Master. 

When  the  Duke  Ngai  inquired  which  of  the  disciples  were 
devoted  to  learning,  Confucius  ansvv'ered  him,  "  There  was  one 
Yen  Hwui  who  loved  it — a  man  whose  angry  feelings  towards 
any  particular  person  he  did  not  suffer  to  visit  upon  another ;  a 
man  who  would  never  fall  into  the  same  error  twice.  Un- 
fortunately his  allotted  time  was  short,  and  he  died,  and  now 
his  like  is  not  to  be  found ;  I  have  never  heard  of  one  so  de- 
voted to  learning." 

While  Tsz-hwa,  a  disciple,  was  away  on  a  mission  to  Ts'i,  the 
disciple  Yen  Yu,  on  behalf  of  his  mother,  applied  for  some 
grain.  "  Give  her  three  pecks,"  said  the  Master.  He  applied 
for  more.  "  Give  her  eight,  then."  Yen  gave  her  fifty  times 
that  amount.  The  Master  said,  "  When  Tsz-hwa  went  on  that 
journey  to  Ts'i,  he  had  well-fed  steeds  yoked  to  his  carriage, 
and  was  arrayed  in  light  furs.  I  have  learnt  that  the  '  superior 
man  '  should  help  those  whose  needs  are  urgent,  not  help  the 
rich  to  be  more  rich." 

When  Yuen  Sz  became  prefect  under  him,  he  gave  him  nine 
hundred  measures  of  grain,  but  the  prefect  declined  to  accept 

27 


28  CONFUCIUS 

them."  "  You  must  not,"  said  the  Master.  "  May  they  not 
be  of  use  to  the  villages  and  hamlets  around  you?  " 

Speaking  of  Yen  Yung  again,  the  Master  said,  "  If  the  off- 
spring of  a  speckled  ox  be  red  in  color,  and  horned,  even  though 
men  may  not  wish  to  take  it  for  sacrifice,  would  the  spirits  of 
the  hills  and  streams  reject  it  ?  " 

Adverting  to  Hwui  again,  he  said,  "  For  three  months  there 
v>?ould  not  be  in  his  breast  one  thought  recalcitrant  against  his 
feeling  of  good-will  towards  his  fellow-men.  The  others  may 
attain  to  this  for  a  day  or  for  a  month,  but  there  they  end." 

When  asked  by  Ki  K'ang  whether  Tsz-lu  was  fit  to  serve  the 
government,  the  Master  replied,  "  Tsz-lu  is  a  man  of  decision: 
what  should  prevent  him  from  serving  the  government  ?  " 

Asked  the  same  question  respecting  Tsz-kung  and  Yen  Yu 
he  answered  similarly,  pronouncing  Tsz-kung  to  be  a  man  of 
perspicacity,  and  Yen  Yu  to  be  one  versed  in  the  polite  arts. 

When  the  head  of  the  Ki  family  sent  for  Min  Tsz-k'ien  to 
make  him  governor  of  the  town  of  Pi,  that  disciple  said,  "  Po- 
Htely  decline  for  me.  If  the  offer  is  renewed,  then  indeed  I 
shall  feel  myself  obliged  to  go  and  live  on  the  further  bank  of 
the  Wan." 

Peh-niu  had  fallen  ill,  and  the  Master  was  inquiring  after 
him.  Taking  hold  of  his  hand  held  out  from  the  window,  he 
said,  "  It  is  taking  him  off !  Alas,  his  appointed  time  has 
come  !     Such  a  man,  and  to  have  such  an  illness !  " 

Of  Hwui,  again :  "  A  right  worthy  man  indeed  was  he ! 
With  his  simple  wooden  dish  of  rice,  and  his  one  gourd-basin  of 
drink,  away  in  his  poor  back  lane,  in  a  condition  too  grievous 
for  others  to  have  endured,  he  never  allowed  his  cheery  spirits 
to  droop.    Aye,  a  right  worthy  soul  was  he !  " 

"  It  is  not,"  Yen  Yu  once  apologized,  "  that  I  do  not  take 
pleasure  in  your  doctrines ;  it  is  that  I  am  not  strong  enough." 
The  Master  rejoined,  "  It  is  when  those  who  are  not  strong 
enough  have  made  some  moderate  amount  of  progress  that  they 
fail  and  give  up ;  but  you  are  now  drawing  your  own  line  for 
yourself." 

Addressing  Tsz-hia,  the  Master  said,  "  Let  your  scholarship 
be  that  of  gentlemen,  and  not  like  that  of  common  men." 

When  Tsz-yu  became  governor  of  Wu-shing,  the  Master 

"  At  this  time  Confucius  was  Crim-  commentators  add  that  this  was  the 
inal  Judge  in  his  native  State  of  Lu.  officer's  proper  salary,  and  that  he  did 
Yuen    Sz    had     been    a    disciple.    The        wrong  to  refuse  it. 


THE   ANALECTS 


29 


said  to  him,  "  Do  you  find  good  men  about  you  ?  "  The  reply 
was,  "  There  is  Tan-t'ai  Mieh-ming,  who  when  walking  es- 
chews by-paths,  and  who,  unless  there  be  some  public  function, 
never  approaches  my  private  residence." 

"  Mang  Chi-fan,"  said  the  Master,  "  is  no  sounder  of  his  own 
praises.  During  a  stampede  he  was  in  the  rear,  and  as  they 
were  about  to  enter  the  city  gate  he  whipped  up  his  horses,  and 
said,  '  'Twas  not  my  daring  made  me  lag  behind.  My  horses 
would  not  go.'  " 

Obiter  dicta  of  the  Master : — 

"  Whoever  has  not  the  glib  utterance  of  the  priest  T'o,  as 
well  as  the  handsomeness  of  Prince  Chau  of  Sung,  will  find  it 
hard  to  keep  out  of  harm's  way  in  the  present  age. 

"  Who  can  go  out  but  by  that  door?  Why  walks  no  one  by 
these  guiding  principles? 

"  Where  plain  naturalness  is  more  in  evidence  than  poHsh, 
we  have — the  man  from  the  country.  Where  polish  is  more  in 
evidence  than  naturalness,  we  have — the  town  scribe.  It  is 
when  naturalness  and  polish  are  equally  evident  that  we  have 
the  ideal  man. 

"  The  life  of  a  man  is — his  rectitude.  Life  without  it — such 
may  you  have  the  good  fortune  to  avoid  ! 

"  They  who  know  it  are  not  as  those  who  love  it,  nor  they  who 
love  it  as  those  who  rejoice  in  it — that  is,  have  the  fruition  of 
their  love  for  it. 

"  To  the  average  man,  and  those  above  the  average,  it  is 
possible  to  discourse  on  higher  subjects ;  to  those  from  the 
average  downwards,  it  is  not  possible." 

Fan  Ch'i  put  a  query  about  wisdom.  The  Master  replied, 
"  To  labor  for  the  promoting  of  righteous  conduct  among  the 
people  of  the  land ;  to  be  serious  in  regard  to  spiritual  beings, 
and  to  hold  aloof  from  them  ; — this  may  be  called  wisdom." 

To  a  further  query,  about  philanthropy,  he  replied,  "  Those 
who  possess  that  virtue  find  difficulty  with  it  at  first,  success 
later. 

"  Men  of  practical  knowledge,"  he  said,  "  find  their  gratifi- 
cation among  the  rivers  of  the  lowland,  men  of  sympathetic 
social  feeling  find  theirs  among  the  hills.  The  former  are 
active  and  bustling,  the  latter  calm  and  quiet.  The  former  take 
their  day  of  pleasure,  the  latter  look  to  length  of  days." 

Alluding  to  the  States  of  Ts'i  and  Lu,  he  observed,  that  Ts'i, 


30 


CONFUCIUS 


by  one  change,  might  attain  to  the  condition  of  Lu ;  and  that 
Lu,  by  one  change,  might  attain  to  good  government. 

An  exclamation  of  the  Master  (satirizing  the  times,  when  old 
terms  relating  to  government  were  still  used  while  bereft  of 
their  old  meaning) : — "  A  quart,  and  not  a  quart !  quart,  indeed ! 
quart,  indeed !  " 

Tsai  Wo,  a  disciple,  put  a  query.  Said  he,  "  Suppose  a 
philanthropic  person  were  told, '  There's  a  fellow-creature  down 
in  the  well ! '     Would  he  go  down  after  him  ?  " 

"Why  should  he  really  do  so?"  answered  the  Master, 
"  The  good  man  or,  a  superior  man  might  be  induced  to  go, 
but  not  to  go  down.     He  may  be  misled,  but  not  befooled." 

"  The  superior  man,"  said  he,  "  with  his  wide  study  of  books, 
and  hedging  himself  round  by  the  Rules  of  Propriety,  is  not 
surely,  after  all  that,  capable  of  overstepping  his  bounds." 

Once  when  the  Master  had  had  an  interview  with  Nan-tsz, 
which  had  scandalized  his  disciple  Tsz-lu,  he  uttered  the  solemn 
adjuration,  "  If  I  have  done  aught  amiss,  may  Heaven  reject 
me !  may  Heaven  reject  me  !  " 

"  How  far-reaching,"  said  he,  "  is  the  moral  excellence  that 
flows  from  the  Constant  Mean!^^  It  has  for  a  long  time  been 
rare  among  the  people." 

Tsz-kung  said,  "  Suppose  the  case  of  one  who  confers  bene- 
fits far  and  wide  upon  the  people,  and  who  can,  in  so  doing, 
make  his  bounty  universally  felt — how  would  you  speak  of 
him  ?     Might  he  be  called  philanthropic  ?  " 

The  Master  exclaimed,  "  What  a  work  for  philanthropy !  He 
would  require  indeed  to  be  a  sage !  He  would  put  into  shade 
even  Yau  and  Shun ! — Well,  a  philanthropic  person,  desiring 
for  himself  a  firm  footing,  is  led  on  to_^ive  one  to  others ;  desir- 
ing for  himself  an  enlightened  perception  of  things,  he  is  led  on 
to  hejgotherstobe^  similarly  enlightened.  If  one  could  take 
an  illustration  commg  closer  home  to  us  than  yours,  that  might 
be  made  the  starting-point  for  speaking  about  philanthropy." 

"  The  doctrine  afterwards  known  by  that  name,  and  which  gave  its  title  to 
a  Confucian  treatise. 


BOOK   VII 
Characteristics  of  Confucius — An  Incident 

SAID  the  Master  :— 
"  I,  as  a  transmitter"  and  not  an  originator,  and  as 
one  who  believes  in  and  loves  the  ancients,  venture  to 
compare  myself  with  our  old  P'ang. 

"  What  find  you  indeed  in  me  ? — a  quiet  brooder  and  memo- 
rizer ;  a  student  never  satiated  with  learning ;  an  unwearied 
monitor  of  others ! 

"  The  things  which  weigh  heavily  upon  my  mind  are  these — 
failure  to  improve  in  the  virtues,  failure  in  discussion  of  what  is 
learnt,  inability  to  walk  according  to  knowledge  received  as  to 
what  is  right  and  just,  inability  also  to  reform  what  has  been 
amiss." 

In  his  hours  of  recreation  and  refreshment  the  Master's  man- 
ner was  easy  and  unconstrained,  affable  and  winning. 

Once  he  exclaimed,  "  Alas !  I  must  be  getting  very  feeble ; 
'tis  long  since  I  have  had  a  repetition  of  the  dreams  in  which 
1  used  to  see  the  Duke  of  Chow." 

"  Concentrate  the  mind,"  said  he,  "  upon  the  Good  Way. 

"  Maintain  firm  hold  upon  Virtue. 

"  Rely  upon  Philanthropy. 

"  Find  recreation  in  the  Arts.^^ 

"  I  have  never  withheld  instruction  from  any,  even  from 
those  who  have  come  for  it  with  the  smallest  offering. 

"  No  subject  do  I  broach,  however,  to  those  who  have  no 
eager  desire  to  learn ;  no  encouraging  hint  do  I  give  to  those 
who  show  no  anxiety  to  speak  out  their  ideas ;  nor  have  I  any- 

"  In  reference  to  his  editing  the  six  Confucius's  life  to  restore  the  country 

Classics  of  his  time.  to  the  condition  in  which  the  Duke  of 

"  This  was  one  of  his  "  beloved   an-  Chow  left  it. 
cients,"  famous  for  what  he  did  in  help-  i*  These    were    six    in    number,    viz.: 
ing  to   found   the   dynasty   of   Chow,   a  Ceremonial,     Music,     Archery,     Horse- 
man of  great  political  wisdom,  a  scholar  manship.   Language,  and   Calculation, 
also,  and  poet.    It  was  the  "  dream  "  of 


32  CONFUCIUS 

thing  more  to  say  to  those  who,  after  I  have  made  clear  one 
corner  of  the  subject,  cannot  from  that  give  me  the  other 
three." 

If  the  Master  was  taking  a  meal,  and  there  were  any  in 
mourning  beside  him,  he  would  not  eat  to  the  full. 

On  one  day  on  which  he  had  wept,  on  that  day  he  would  not 
sing. 

Addressing  his  favorite  disciple,  he  said,  "  To  you  only  and 
myself  it  has  been  given  to  do  this — to  go  when  called  to  serve, 
and  to  go  back  into  quiet  retirement  when  released  from  office." 

Tsz-lu,  hearing  the  remark  said,  "  But  if,  sir,  you  had  the 
handling  of  the  army  of  one  of  the  greater  States,^''  whom  would 
you  have  associated  with  you  in  that  case  ?  " 

The  Master  answered : — 

"  Not  the  one  '  who'll  rouse  the  tiger,' 
Not  the  one  '  who'll  wade  the  Ho ; ' 

not  the  man  who  can  die  with  no  regret.  He  must  be  one  who 
should  watch  over  affairs  with  apprehensive  caution,  a  man 
fond  of  strategy,  and  of  perfect  skill  and  effectiveness  in  it." 

As  to  wealth,  he  remarked,  "  If  wealth  were  an  object  that  I 
could  go  in  quest  of,  I  should  do  so  even  if  I  had  to  take  a  whip 
and  do  grooms'  work.  But  seeing  that  it  is  not,  I  go  after 
those  objects  for  which  I  have  a  liking." 

Among  matters  over  which  he  exercised  great  caution  were 
times  of  fasting,  war,  and  sickness. 

When  he  was  in  the  State  of  Ts'i,  and  had  heard  the  ancient 
Shau  music,  he  lost  all  perception  of  the  taste  of  his  meat.  "  I 
had  no  idea,"  said  he,  "  that  music  could  have  been  brought  to 
this  pitch." 

In  the  course  of  conversation  Yen  Yu  said,  "  Does  the  Mas- 
ter take  the  part  of  the  Prince  of  Wei  ?  "  "  Ah  yes !  "  said  Tsz- 
kung,  "  I  will  go  and  ask  him  that." 

On  going  in  to  him,  that  disciple  began,  "  What  sort  of  men 
were  Peh-I  and  Shuh  Ts'i?  "  "  Worthies  of  the  olden  time," 
the  Master  replied.  "  Had  they  any  feelings  of  resentment  ?  " 
was  the  next  question.  "  Their  aim  and  object,"  he  answered, 
"  was  that  of  doing  the  duty  which  every  man  owes  to  his  fel- 
lows, and  they  succeeded  in  doing  it ; — what  room  further  for 

^•Lit.,  three  forces.     Each  force  consisted  of  12,500  men,  and  three  of  such 
forces  were  the  equipment  of  a  greater  State. 


THE  ANALECTS  33 

» 

feelings  of  resentment?  "  The  questioner  on  coming  out  said, 
"  The  Master  does  not  take  his  part."  ' 

"  With  a  meal  of  coarse  rice,"  said  the  Master,  "  and  with 
water  to  drink,  and  my  bent  arm  for  my  pillow — even  thus  I  can 
find  happiness.  Riches  and  honors  without  righteousness  are 
to  me  as  fleeting  clouds." 

"  Give  me  several  years  more  to  live,"  said  he,  "  and  after 
fifty  years'  study  of  the  '  Book  of  Changes  '  I  might  come  to  be 
free  from  serious  error." 

The  Master's  regular  subjects  of  discourse  were  the  "  Books 
of  the  Odes  "  and  "  History,"  and  the  up-keeping  of  the  Rules 
of  Propriety.     On  all  of  these  he  regularly  discoursed. 

The  Duke  of  Shih  questioned  Tsz-lu  about  Confucius,  and 
the  latter  did  not  answer. 

Hearing  of  this,  the  Master  said,  "  Why  did  you  not  say. 
He  is  a  man  with  a  mind  so  intent  on  his  pursuits  that  he  for- 
gets his  food,  and  finds  such  pleasure  in  them  that  he  forgets 
his  troubles,  and  does  not  know  that  old  age  is  coming  upon 
him?" 

"  As  I  came  not  into  life  with  any  knowledge  of  it,"  he  said, 
"  and  as  my  likings  are  for  what  is  old,  I  busy  myself  in  seeking 
knowledge  there." 

Strange  occurrences,  exploits  of  strength,  deeds  of  lawless- 
ness, references  to  spiritual  beings — such-like  matters  the  Mas- 
ter avoided  in  conversation. 

"  Let  there,"  he  said,  "  be  three  men  walking  together :  from 
that  number  I  should  be  sure  to  find  my  instructors ;  for  what 
is  good  in  them  I  should  choose  out  and  follow,  and  what  is 
not  good  I  should  modify." 

On  one  occasion  he  exclaimed,  "  Heaven  begat  Virtue  in  me ; 
what  can  man  do  unto  me  ?  " 

To  his  disciples  he  once  said,  "  Do  you  look  upon  me,  my 
sons,  as  keeping  anything  secret  from  you?  I  hide  nothing 
from  you.  I  do  nothing  that  is  not  manifest  to  your  eyes,  my 
disciples.     That  is  so  with  me." 

Four  things  there  were  which  he  kept  in  view  in  his  teaching 
— scholarliness,  conduct  of  life,  honesty,  faithfulness. 

"  It  is  not  given  to  me,"  he  said,  "  to  meet  with  a  sage ;   let 

me  but  behold  a  man  of  superior  mind,  and  that  will  suffice. 

Neither  is  it  given  to  me  to  meet  with  a  good  man ;  let  me  but 

§ee  a  man  of  constancy,  and  it  will  suffice.    It  is  difficult  for  per- 

VoL.  IV.— 3 


34 


CONFUCIUS 


sons  to  have  constancy,  when  they  pretend  to  have  that  which 
they  are  destitute  of,  to  be  full  when  they  are  empty,  to  do 
things  on  a  grand  scale  when  their  means  are  contracted  !  " 

When  the  Master  fished  with  hook  and  line,  he  did  not  also 
use  a  net.  When  out  with  his  bow,  he  would  never  shoot  at 
game  in  cover. 

"  Some  there  may  be,"  said  he,  "  who  do  things  in  ignorance 
of  what  they  do.  I  am  not  of  these.  There  is  an  alternative 
way  of  knowing  things,  viz. — to  sift  out  the  good  from  the 
many  things  one  hears,  and  follow  it ;  and  to  keep  in  memory 
the  many  things  one  sees." 

Pupils  from  Hu-hiang  were  difficult  to  speak  with.  One 
youth  came  to  interview  the  Master,  and  the  disciples  were  in 
doubt  whether  he  ought  to  have  been  seen.  "  Why  so  much 
ado,"  said  the  Master,  "  at  my  merely  permitting  his  approach, 
and  not  rather  at  my  allowing  him  to  draw  back?  If  a  man 
have  cleansed  himself  in  order  to  come  and  see  me,  I  receive 
him  as  such ;  but  I  do  not  undertake  for  what  he  will  do  when 
he  goes  away." 

"  Is  the  philanthropic  spirit  far  to  seek,  indeed  ?  "  the  Master 
exclaimed ;  "I  wish  for  it,  and  it  is  with  me !  " 

The  Minister  of  Crime  in  the  State  of  Ch'in  asked  Confucius 
whether  Duke  Ch'au,  of  Lu  was  acquainted  with  the  Proprie- 
ties ;  and  he  answered,  "  Yes,  he  knows  them." 

When  Confucius  had  withdrawn,  the  minister  bowed  to 
Wu-ma  K'i,  a  disciple,  and  motioned  to  him  to  come  forward. 
He  said,  "  I  have  heard  that  superior  men  show  no  partiality ; 
are  they,  too,  then,  partial  ?  That  prince  took  for  his  wife  a  lady 
of  the  Wu  family,  having  the  same  surname  as  himself,  and 
had  her  named  '  Lady  Tsz  of  Wu,  the  elder.'  If  he  knows  the 
Proprieties,  then  who  does  not?  " 

The  disciple  reported  this  to  the  Master,  who  thereupon  re- 
marked, "  Well  for  me !  If  I  err  in  any  way,  others  are  sure  to 
know  of  it." 

When  the  Master  was  in  company  with  any  one  who  sang, 
and  who  sang  well,  he  must  needs  have  the  song  over  again,  and 
after  that  would  join  in  it. 

"  Although  in  letters,"  he  said,  "  I  may  have  none  to  compare 
with  me,  yet  in  my  personification  of  the  '  superior  man  '  I  have 
not  as  yet  been  successful." 

"  'A  Sage  and  a  Philanthropist? '     How  should  I  have  the 


THE   ANALECTS 


35 


ambition  ?  "  said  he.  "  All  that  I  can  well  be  called  is  this — 
An  insatiable  student,  an  unwearied  teacher ; — this,  and  no 
more." — "  Exactly  what  we,  your  disciples,  cannot  by  any 
learning  manage  to  be,"  said  Kung-si  Hwa. 

Once  when  the  Master  was  seriously  ill,  Tsz-lu  requested  to 
be  allowed  to  say  prayers  for  him.  "Are  such  available?" 
asked  the  Master.  "  Yes,"  said  he ;  "  and  the  Manual  of 
Prayers  says,  '  Pray  to  the  spirits  above  and  to  those  here 
below.'  " 

"  My  praying  has  been  going  on  a  long  while,"  said  the 
Master. 

"  Lavish  living,"  he  said,  "  renders  men  disorderly ;  miserli- 
ness makes  them  hard.  Better,  however,  the  hard  than  the 
disorderly." 

Again,  "The  man  of  superior  mind  is  placidly  composed; 
the  small-minded  man  is  in  a  constant  state  ofperturbation.'^ 

The  Master  was  gentle,  yet  could  be  severe ;  had  an  over- 
awing presence,  yet  was  not  violent ;  was  deferential,  yet  easy. 


BOOK   VIII 
Sayings  of  Tsang — Sentences  of  the  Master 

SPEAKING  of  T'ai-pih  the  Master  said  that  he  might  be 
pronounced  a  man  of  the  highest  moral  excellence  ;  for 
he  allowed  the  empire  to  pass  by  him  onwards  to  a  third 
heir ;  while  the  people,  in  their  ignorance  of  his  motives,  were 
unable  to  admire  him  for  so  doing. 

"  Without  the  Proprieties,"  said  the  Master,  "  we  have  these 
results :  for  deferential  demeanor,  a  worried  one ;  for  calm  at- 
tentiveness,  awkward  bashfulness ;  for  manly  conduct,  disor- 
derliness  ;   for  straightforwardness,  perversity. 

"  When  men  of  rank  show  genuine  care  for  those  nearest  to 
them  in  blood,  the  people  rise  to  the  duty  of  neighborliness  and 
sociability.  And  when  old  friendships  among  them  are  not 
allowed  to  fall  off,  there  will  be  a  cessation  of  underhand  prac- 
tices among  the  people." 

The  Scholar  Tsang  was  once  unwell,  and  calling  his  pupils 
to  him  he  said  to  them,  "  Disclose  to  view  my  feet  and  my 
hands.    What  says  the  Ode? — 

'  Act  as  from  a  sense  of  danger. 
With  precaution  and  with  care, 
As  a  yawning  gulf  o'erlooking, 
As  on  ice  that  scarce  will  bear.' 

At  all  times,  my  children,  I  know  how  to  keep  myself  free  from 
bodily  harm." 

Again,  during  an  illness  of  his,  Mang  King,  an  official,  went 
to  ask  after  him.  The  Scholar  had  some  conversation  with 
him,  in  the  course  of  which  he  said — 

"  '  Doleful  the  cries  of  a  dying  bird, 

Good  the  last  words  of  a  dying  man.' 
36 


/.'ii 


THE  ANALECTS 


37 


There  are  three  points  which  a  man  of  rank  in  the  manage- 
ment of  his  duties  should  set  store  upon : — A  Hvely  manner 
and  deportment,  banishing  both  severity  and  laxity ;  a  frank 
and  open  expression  of  countenance,  allied  closely  with  sin- 
cerity ;  and  a  tone  in  his  utterances  utterly  free  from  any  ap- 
proach to  vulgarity  and  impropriety.  As  to  matters  of  bowls 
and  dishes,  leave  such  things  to  those  who  are  charged  with  the 
care  of  them." 

Another  saying  of  the  Scholar  Tsang:  "  I  once  had  a  friend 
who,  though  he  possessed  ability,  would  go  questioning  men  of 
none,  and,  though  surrounded  by  numbers,  would  go  with  his 
questions  to  isolated  individuals  ;  who  also,  whatever  he  might 
have,  appeared  as  if  he  were  without  it,  and,  with  all  his  sub- 
stantial acquirements,  made  as  though  his  mind  were  a  mere 
blank ;  and  when  insulted  would  not  retaliate ; — this  was  ever 
his  way." 

Again  he  said :  "  The  man  that  is  capable  of  being  intrusted 
with  the  charge  of  a  minor  on  the  throne,  and  given  authority 
over  a  large  territory,  and  who,  during  the  important  term  of 
his  superintendence  cannot  be  forced  out  of  his  position,  is 
not  such  a  '  superior  man  '?     That  he  is,  indeed." 

Again : — "  The  learned  official  must  not  be  without  breadth 
and  power  of  endurance :  the  burden  is  heavy,  and  the  way  is 
long. 

"  Suppose  that  he  take  his  duty  to  his  fellow-men  as  his 
peculiar  burden,  is  that  not  indeed  a  heavy  one?  And  since 
only  with  death  it  is  done  with,  is  not  the  way  long?  " 

Sentences  of  the  Master : — 

"  From  the  'Book  of  Odes  '  we  receive  impulses ;  from  the 
'  Book  of  the  Rules,'  stability ;  from  the  *  Book  on  Music,'  re- 
finement.^'^ 

"  The  people  may  be  put  into  the  way  they  should  go,  though 
they  may  not  be  put  into  the  way  of  understanding  it. 

"  The  man  who  likes  bravery,  and  yet  groans  under  poverty, 
has  mischief  in  him.  So,  too,  has  the  misanthrope,  groaning 
at  any  severity  shown  towards  him. 

"  Even  if  a  person  were  adorned  with  the  gifts  of  the  Duke  of 
Chow,  yet  if  he  were  proud  and  avaricious,  all  the  rest  of  his 
qualities  would  not  indeed  be  worth  looking  at. 

*>  Comparison  of  three  of  the  Classics:   the  "  Shi-King,"  the  "  Li  Ki,"  and  the 
"  Yoh."    The  last  is  lost. 


38  CONFUCIUS 

"  Not  easily  found  is  the  man  who,  after  three  years'  study, 
has  failed  to  come  upon  some  fruit  of  his  toil. 

"  The  really  faithful  lover  of  learning  holds  fast  to  the  Good 
Way  till  death. 

"  He  will  not  go  into  a  State  in  which  a  downfall  is  imminent, 
nor  take  up  his  abode  in  one  where  disorder  reigns.  When  the 
empire  is  well  ordered  he  will  show  himself;  when  not,  he  will 
hide  himself  away.  Under  a  good  government  it  will  be  a  dis- 
grace to  him  if  he  remain  in  poverty  and  low  estate ;  under  a 
bad  one,  it  would  be  equally  disgraceful  to  him  to  hold  riches 
and  honors. 

"  If  not  occupying  the  office,  devise  not  the  policy. 

"  When  the  professor  Chi  began  his  duties,  how  grand  the 
finale  of  the  First  of  the  Odes  used  to  be !  How  it  rang  in  one's 
ears! 

"  I  cannot  understand  persons  who  are  enthusiastic  and  yet 
not  straightforward ;  nor  those  who  are  ignorant  and  yet  not 
attentive ;  nor  again  those  folks  who  are  simple-minded  and  yet 
untrue. 

"  Learn,  as  if  never  overtaking  your  object,  and  yet  as  if 
apprehensive  of  losing  it. 

"  How  sublime  was  the  handling  of  the  empire  by  Shun  and 
Yu ! — it  was  as  nothing  to  them ! 

"  How  great  was  Yau  as  a  prince !  Was  he  not  sublime ! 
Say  that  Heaven  only  is  great,  then  was  Yau  alone  after  its 
pattern !  How  profound  was  he !  The  people  could  not  find 
a  name  for  him.  How  sublime  in  his  achievements !  How 
brilliant  in  his  scholarly  productions !  " 

Shun  had  for  his  ministers  five  men,  by  whom  he  ordered  the 
empire. 

King  Wu  (in  his  day)  stated  that  he  had  ten  men  as  assistants 
for  the  promotion  of  order. 

With  reference  to  these  facts  Confucius  observed,  "  Ability  is 
hard  to  find.  Is  it  not  so  indeed?  During  the  three  years' 
interregnum  between  Yau  and  Shun  there  was  more  of  ir  than 
in  the  interval  before  this  present  dynasty  appeared.  There 
were,  at  this  latter  period,  one  woman,  and  nine  men  only. 

"  When  two-thirds  of  the  empire  were  held  by  King  Wan,  he 
served  with  that  portion  the  House  of  Yin.  We  speak  of  the 
virtue  of  the  House  of  Chow ;  we  may  say,  indeed,  that  it 
reached  the  pinnacle  of  excellence." 


THE   ANALECTS 


39 


"  As  to  Yu,"  added  the  Master,  "  I  can  find  no  flaw  in  him. 
Living  on  meagre  food  and  drink  ;  yet  providing  to  the  utmost 
in  his  fiHal  offerings  to  the  spirits  of  the  dead !  Dressing  in 
coarse  garments  ;  yet  most  elegant  when  vested  in  his  sacrificial 
apron  and  coronet !  Dwelling  in  a  poor  palace  ;  yet  exhaust- 
ing his  energies  over  those  boundary-ditches  and  watercourses ! 
I  can  find  no  flaw  in  Yu." 


BOOK   IX 
His  Favorite  Disciple's  Opinion  of  Him 

TOPICS  on  which  the  Master  rarely  spoke  were — Advan- 
tage, and  Destiny,  and  Duty  of  man  to  man. 

A  man  of  the  village  of  Tah-hiang  exclaimed  of  him, 
"  A  great  man  is  Confucius  ! — a  man  of  extensive  learning,  and 
yet  in  nothing  has  he  quite  made  himself  a  name !  " 

The  Master  heard  of  this,  and  mentioning  it  to  his  disciples 
he  said,  "  What  then  shall  I  take  in  hand  ?  Shall  I  become  a 
carriage  driver,  or  an  archer  ?     Let  me  be  a  driver !  " 

"  The  sacrificial  cap,"  he  once  said,  "  should,  according  to  the 
Rules,  be  of  linen ;  but  in  these  days  it  is  of  pure  silk.  How- 
ever, as  it  is  economical,  I  do  as  all  do. 

"  The  Rule  says,  '  Make  your  bow  when  at  the  lower  end  of 
the  hall ' ;  but  nowadays  the  bowing  is  done  at  the  upper  part. 
This  is  great  freedom  ;  and  I,  though  I  go  in  opposition  to  the 
crowd,  bow  when  at  the  lower  end." 

The  Master  barred  four  words : — he  would  have  no  "  shall's," 
no  "  must's,"  no  "  certainly 's,"  no  "  Fs." 

Once,  in  the  town  of  K'wang  fearing  that  his  life  was  going 
to  be  taken,  the  Master  exclaimed,  "  King  Wan  is  dead  and 
gone;  but  is  not  *  wan  '^'^  with  you  here?  If  Heaven  be  about 
to  allow  this  *  wan  '  to  perish,  then  they  who  survive  its  decease 
will  get  no  benefit  from  it.  But  so  long  as  Heaven  does  not 
allow  it  to  perish,  what  can  the  men  of  K'wang  do  to  me  ?  " 

A  high  State  official,  after  questioning  Tsz-kung,  said, 
"  Your  Master  is  a  sage,  then  ?  How  many  and  what  varied 
abilities  must  be  his  !  " 

The  disciple  replied,  "  Certainly  Heaven  is  allowing  him  full 

"  "  Wan  "  was  the  honorary  appella-  tial    talent— the    latter    being    the    hon- 

tion  of  the  great  sage  and  ruler,  whose  orary    title    of    his    son    and    successor, 

praise  is  in  the  "  Shi-King  "  as  one  of  "  Wan  "  also  often  stands  for  literature, 

the  founders  of  the  Chow  dynasty,  and  and  polite  accomplishments.    Here  Con- 

the    term    represented    civic    talent    and  fucius  simply  means,   "  If  you  kill   me, 

virtues,  as  distinct  from  Wu,  the  mar-  you  kill  a  sage." 


THE   ANALECTS  41 

opportunities  of  becoming  a  sage,  in  addition  to  the  fact  that 
his  abilities  are  many  and  varied." 

When  the  Master  heard  of  this  he  remarked,  "  Does  that  high 
official  know  me?  In  my  early  years  my  position  in  life  was 
low,  and  hence  my  ability  in  many  ways,  though  exercised  in 
trifiing  matters.  In  the  gentleman  is  there  indeed  such  variety 
of  ability?     No." 

From  this,  the  disciple  Lau  used  to  say,  "  'Twas  a  saying  of 
the  Master :  '  At  a  time  when  I  was  not  called  upon  to  use  them, 
I  acquired  my  proficiency  in  the  polite  arts.'  " 

"  Am  I,  indeed,"  said  the  Master,  "  possessed  of  knowledge? 
I  know  nothing.  Let  a  vulgar  fellow  come  to  me  with  a  ques- 
tion— a  man  with  an  emptyish  head — I  may  thrash  out  with 
him  the  matter  from  end  to  end,  and  exhaust  myself  in  doing 
it!" 

"  Ah !  "  exclaimed  he  once,  "  the  phoenix  does  not  come ! 
and  no  symbols  issue  from  the  river !  May  I  not  as  well  give 
up?  " 

Whenever  the  Master  met  with  a  person  in  mourning,  or 
with  one  in  full-dress  cap  and  kirtle,  or  with  a  blind  person,  al- 
though they  might  be  young  persons,  he  would  make  a  point 
of  rising  on  their  appearance,  or,  if  crossing  their  path,  would 
do  so  with  quickened  step  ! 

Once  Yen  Yuen  exclaimed  with  a  sigh  (with  reference  to  the 
Master's  doctrines),  *'  If  I  look  up  to  them,  they  are  ever  the 
higher ;  if  I  try  to  penetrate  them,  they  are  ever  the  harder ;  if 
I  gaze  at  them  as  if  before  my  eyes,  lo,  they  are  behind  me ! — 
Gradually  and  gently  the  Master  with  skill  lures  men  on.  By 
literary  lore  he  gave  me  breadth ;  by  the  Rules  of  Propriety  he 
narrowed  me  down.  When  I  desire  a  respite,  I  find  it  impos- 
sible ;  and  after  I  have  exhausted  my  powers,  there  seems  to 
be  something  standing  straight  up  in  front  of  me,  and  though  I 
have  the  mind  to  make  towards  it  I  make  no  advance  at  all." 

Once  when  the  Master  was  seriously  ill,  Tsz-lu  induced  the 
other  disciples  to  feign  they  were  high  ofificials  acting  in  his 
service.  During  a  respite  from  his  malady  the  Master  ex- 
claimed, "Ah!  how  long  has  Tsz-lu's  conduct  been  false? 
Whom  should  I  delude,  if  I  were  to  pretend  to  have  officials 
under  me,  having  none?  Should  I  deceive  Heaven?  Besides, 
were  I  to  die,  I  would  rather  die  in  the  hands  of  yourselves,  my 
disciples,  than  in  the  hands  of  officials.     And  though  I  should 


42 


CONFUCIUS 


fail  to  have  a  grand  funeral  over  me,  I  should  hardly  be  left  on 
my  death  on  the  public  highway,  should  I  ?  " 

Tsz-kung  once  said  to  him,  "  Here  is  a  fine  gem.  Would 
you  guard  it  carefully  in  a  casket  and  store  it  away,  or  seek  a 
good  price  for  it  and  sell  it?  "  "  Sell  it,  indeed,"  said  the  Mas- 
ter— "  that  would  I ;  but  I  should  wait  for  the  bidder." 

The  Master  protested  he  would  "  go  and  live  among  the  nine 
wild  tribes." 

"  A  rude  life,"  said  some  one ; — "  how  could  you  put  up  with 
it?" 

"  What  rudeness  would  there  be,"  he  replied,  "  if  a  '  superior 
man  '  was  living  in  their  midst  ?  " 

Once  he  remarked,  "  After  I  came  back  from  Wei  to  Lu  the 
music  was  put  right,  and  each  of  the  Festal  Odes  and  Hymns 
was  given  its  appropriate  place  and  use." 

"  Ah !  which  one  of  these  following,"  he  asked  on  one  occa- 
sion, "  are  to  be  found  exemplified  in  me — proper  service  ren- 
dered to  superiors  when  atsroad ;  duty  to  father  and  elder 
brother  when  at  home;  duty  that  shrinks  from  no  exertion 
when  dear  ones  die;  and  keeping  free  from  the  confusing 
effects  of  wine  ?  " 

Standing  once  on  the  bank  of  a  mountain  stream,  he  said 
(musingly),  "  Like  this  are  those  that  pass  away — no  cessation, 
day  or  night !  " 
Other  sayings : — 

"  Take  an  illustration  from  the  making  of  a  hill.  A  simple 
basketful  is  wanting  to  complete  it,  and  the  work  stops.  So  I 
stop  short. 

"  Take  an  illustration  from  the  levelling  of  the  ground. 
Suppose  again  just  one  basketful  is  left,  when  the  work  has  so 
progressed.     There  I  desist ! 

"  Ah !  it  was  Hwui,  was  it  not?  who,  when  I  had  given  him 
his  lesson,  was  the  unflagging  one  ! 

"  Alas  for  Hwui !  I  saw  him  ever  making  progress.  I  never 
saw  him  stopping  short. 

"  Blade,  but  no  bloom — or  else  bloom,  but  no  produce ;  aye, 
that  is  the  way  with  some ! 

"  Reverent  regard  is  due  to  youth.  How  know  we  what  dif- 
ference there  may  be  in  them  in  the  future  from  what  they  are 
now?  Yet  when  they  have  reached  the  age  of  forty  or  fifty, 
and  are  still  unknown  in  the  world,  then  indeed  they  are  no 
more  worthy  of  such  regard. 


THE   ANALECTS  43 

"  Can  any  do  otherwise  than  assent  to  words  said  to  them  by 
way  of  correction  ?  Only  let  them  reform  by  such  advice,  and 
it  will  then  be  reckoned  valuable.  Can  any  be  other  than 
pleased  with  words  of  gentle  suasion  ?  Only  let  them  comply 
with  them  fully,  and  such  also  will  be  accounted  valuable. 
With  those  who  are  pleased  without  so  complying,  and  those 
who  assent  but  do  not  reform,  I  can  do  nothing  at  all. 

"  Give  prominent  place  to  loyalty  and  sincerity. 

"  Have  no  associates  in  study  who  are  not  advanced  some- 
what like  yourself. 

'*  When  you  have  erred,  be  not  afraid  to  correct  yourself. 

"  It  may  be  possible  to  seize  and  carry  off  the  chief  com- 
mander of  a  large  army,  but  not  possible  so  to  rob  one  poor  fel- 
low of  his  will. 

"  One  who  stands — clad  in  hempen  robe,  the  worse  for  wear 
— among  others  clad  in  furs  of  fox  and  badger,  and  yet  una- 
bashed— 'tis  Tsz-lu,  that,  is  it  not  ?  " 

Tsz-lu  used  always  to  be  humming  over  the  lines — 

"  From  envy  and  enmity  free, 
What  deed  doth  he  other  than  good  ?  " 

"  How  should  such  a  rule  of  life,"  asked  the  Master,  "  be 
sufficient  to  make  any  one  good  ?  " 

"  When  the  year  grows  chilly,  we  know  the  pine  and  cypress 
are  the  last  to  fade. 

"  The  wise  escape  doubt ;  the  good-hearted,  trouble ;  the 
bold,  apprehension. 

"  Some  may  study  side  by  side,  and  yet  be  asunder  when  they 
come  to  the  logic  of  things.  Some  may  go  on  together  in  this 
latter  course,  but  be  wide  apart  in  the  standards  they  reach  in 
it.  Some,  again,  may  together  reach  the  same  standard,  and 
yet  be  diverse  in  weight  of  character." 

"  The  blossom  is  out  on  the  cherry  tree, 
With  a  flutter  on  every  spray. 
Dost  think  that  my  thoughts  go  not  out  to  thee? 
Ah,  why  art  thou  far  away !  " 

Commenting  on  these  lines  the  Master  said,  "  There  can 
hardly  have  been  much  *  thought  going  out.'  What  does  dis- 
tance signify?" 


BOOK  X 

Confucius  in  Private  and  Oflacial  Life 

IN  his  own  village,  Confucius  presented  a  somewhat  plain 
and  simple  appearance,  and  looked  unlike  a  man  who  pos- 
sessed ability  of  speech. 

But  in  the  ancestral  temple,  and  at  Court,  he  spoke  with  the 
fluency  and  accuracy  of  a  debater,  but  ever  guardedly. 

At  Court,  conversing  with  the  lower  order  of  great  officials, 
he  spoke  somewhat  firmly  and  directly  ;  with  those  of  the  higher 
order  his  tone  was  somewhat  more  affable. 

When  the  prince  was  present  he  was  constrainedly  reverent 
in  his  movements,  and  showed  a  proper  degree  of  grave  dignity 
in  demeanor. 

Whenever  the  prince  summoned  him  to  act  as  usher  to  the 
Court,  his  look  would  change  somewhat,  and  he  would  make 
as  though  he  were  turning  round  to  do  obeisance. 

He  would  salute  those  among  whom  he  took  up  his  position, 
using  the  right  hand  or  the  left,  and  holding  the  skirts  of  his 
robe  in  proper  position  before  and  behind.  He  would  make  his 
approaches  with  quick  step,  and  with  elbows  evenly  bent  out- 
wards. 

When  the  visitor  withdrew,  he  would  not  fail  to  report  the 
execution  of  his  commands,  with  the  words,  "  The  visitor  no 
longer  looks  back." 

When  he  entered  the  palace  gate,  it  was  with  the  body  some- 
what bent  forward,  almost  as  though  he  could  not  be  admit- 
ted. When  he  stood  still,  this  would  never  happen  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  gateway ;  nor  when  moving  about  .would  he  ever 
tread  on  the  threshold.  When  passing  the  throne,  his  look 
would  change  somewhat,  he  would  turn  aside  and  make  a  sort 
of  obeisance,  and  the  words  he  spoke  seemed  as  though  he  were 
deficient  in  utterance. 

44 


THE  ANALECTS  45 

On  going  up  the  steps  to  the  audience  chamber,  he  would 
gather  up  with  both  hands  the  ends  of  his  robe,  and  walk  with 
his  body  bent  somewhat  forward,  holding  back  his  breath  like 
one  in  whom  respiration  has  ceased.  On  coming  out,  after 
descending  one  step  his  countenance  would  relax  and  assume 
an  appearance  of  satisfaction.  Arrived  at  the  bottom,  he  would 
go  forward  with  quick  step,  his  elbows  evenly  bent  outwards, 
back  to  his  position,  constrainedly  reverent  in  every  movement. 

When  holding  the  sceptre  in  his  hand,  his  body  would  be 
somewhat  bent  forward,  as  if  he  were  not  equal  to  carrying  it ; 
wielding  it  now  higher,  as  in  a  salutation,  now  lower,  as  in  the 
presentation  of  a  gift ;  his  look  would  also  be  changed  and  ap- 
pear awestruck  ;  and  his  gait  would  seem  retarded,  as  if  he  were 
obeying  some  restraining  hand  behind. 

When  he  presented  the  gifts  of  ceremony,  he  would  assume  a 
placid  expression  of  countenance.  At  the  private  interview  he 
would  be  cordial  and  afifable. 

The  good  man  would  use  no  purple  or  violet  colors  for  the 
facings  of  his  dress. '^  Nor  would  he  have  red  or  orange  color 
for  his  undress. ^^  For  the  hot  season  he  wore  a  singlet,  of 
either  coarse  or  fine  texture,  but  would  also  feel  bound  to  have 
an  outer  garment  covering  it.  For  his  black  robe  he  had 
lamb's  wool ;  for  his  white  one,  fawn's  fur ;  and  for  his  yellow 
one,  fox  fur.  His  furred  undress  robe  was  longer,  but  the  right 
sleeve  was  shortened.  He  would  needs  have  his  sleeping-dress 
one  and  a  half  times  his  own  length.  For  ordinary  home  wear 
he  used  thick  substantial  fox  or  badger  furs.  When  he  left  ofif 
mourning,  he  would  wear  all  his  girdle  trinkets.  His  kirtle  in 
front,  when  it  was  not  needed  for  full  cover,  he  must  needs  have 
cut  down.  He  would  never  wear  his  (black)  lamb's-wool,  or  a 
dark-colored  cap,  when  he  went  on  visits  of  condolence  to 
mourners.^*  On  the  first  day  of  the  new  moon,  he  must  have 
on  his  Court  dress  and  to  Court.  When  observing  his  fasts, 
he  made  a  point  of  having  bright,  shiny  garments,  made  of 
linen.  He  must  also  at  such  times  vary  his  food,  and  move  his 
seat  to  another  part  of  his  dwelling-room. 

As  to  his  food,  he  never  tired  of  rice  so  long  as  it  was  clean 
and  pure,  nor  of  hashed  meats  when  finely  minced.    Rice  spoiled 

*2  Pecause,  it  is  said,  such  colors  were  carnation,   white,   and  black),  and  were 

adopted  in  fasting  and  mourning.  affected  more  by  females. 

=»  Because  they  did  not  belong  to  the  ^  Since   white   was,   as   it  is   still,   the 

five   correct   colors   (viz.    green,   yellow,  mourning  color. 


46  CONFUCIUS 

by  damp,  and  sour,  he  would  not  touch,  nor  tainted  fish,  nor  bad 
meat,  nor  aught  of  a  bad  color  or  smell,  nor  aught  overdone  in 
cooking,  nor  aught  out  of  season.  Neither  would  he  eat  any- 
thing that  was  not  properly  cut,  or  that  lacked  its  proper  sea- 
sonings. Although  there  might  be  an  abundance  of  meat  be- 
fore him,  he  would  not  allow  a  preponderance  of  it  to  rob  the 
rice  of  its  beneficial  effect  in  nutrition.  Only  in  the  matter  of 
wine  did  he  set  himself  no  limit,  yet  he  never  drank  so  much  as 
to  confuse  himself.  Tradesmen's  wines,  and  dried  meats  from 
the  market,  he  would  not  touch.  Ginger  he  would  never  have 
removed  from  the  table  during  a  meal.  He  was  not  a  great 
eater.  Meat  from  the  sacrifices  at  the  prince's  temple  he  would 
never  put  aside  till  the  following  day.  The  meat  of  his  own 
offerings  he  would  never  give  out  after  three  days'  keeping,  for 
after  that  time  none  were  to  eat  it. 

At  his  meals  he  would  not  enter  into  discussions ;  and  when 
reposing  (afterwards)  he  would  not  utter  a  word. 

Even  should  his  meal  consist  only  of  coarse  rice  and  vege- 
table broth  or  melons,  he  would  make  an  offering,  and  never 
fail  to  do  so  religiously. 

He  would  never  sit  on  a  mat  that  was  not  straight. 

After  a  feast  among  his  villagers,  he  would  wait  before  going 
away  until  the  old  men  had  left. 

When  the  village  people  were  exorcising  the  pests,  he  would 
put  on  his  Court  robes  and  stand  on  the  steps  of  his  hall  to  re- 
ceive them. 

When  he  was  sending  a  message  of  inquiry  to  a  person  in 
another  State,  he  would  bow  twice  on  seeing  the  messenger  off. 

Ki  K'ang  once  sent  him  a  present  of  some  medicine.  He 
bowed,  and  received  it ;  but  remarked,  "  Until  I  am  quite  sure 
of  its  properties  I  must  not  venture  to  taste  it." 

Once  when  the  stabling  was  destroyed  by  fire,  he  withdrew 
from  the  Court,  and  asked,  "  Is  any  person  injured  ?  " — without 
inquiring  as  to  the  horses. 

Whenever  the  prince  sent  him  a  present  of  food,  he  was  par- 
ticular to  set  his  mat  in  proper  order,  and  would  be  the  first  one 
to  taste  it.  If  the  prince's  present  was  one  of  raw  meat,  he 
must  needs  have  it  cooked,  and  make  an  oblation  of  it.  If  the 
gift  were  a  live  animal,  he  would  be  sure  to  keep  it  and  care 
for  it. 

When  he  was  in  waiting,  and  at  a  meal  with  the  prince,  the 


THE   ANALECTS  47 

prince  would  make  the  offering,^'  and  he  (the  Master)  was  the 
pregtistator. 

When  unwell,  and  the  prince  came  to  see  him,  he  would 
arrange  his  position  so  that  his  head  inclined  towards  the  east, 
would  put  over  him  his  Court  robes,  and  draw  his  girdle  across 
them. 

When  summoned  by  order  of  the  prince,  he  would  start  oflF 
without  waiting  for  his  horses  to  be  put  to. 

On  his  entry  into  the  Grand  Temple,  he  inquired  about 
everything  connected  with  its  usages. 

If  a  friend  died,  and  there  were  no  near  relatives  to  take  him 
to,  he  would  say,  "  Let  him  be  buried  from  my  house." 

For  a  friend's  gift — unless  it  consisted  of  meat  that  had  been 
offered  in  sacrifice — he  would  not  bow,  even  if  it  were  a  carriage 
and  horses. 

In  repose  he  did  not  he  hke  one  dead.  In  his  home  life  he 
was  not  formal  in  his  manner. 

Whenever  he  met  with  a  person  in  mourning,  even  though  it 
were  a  familiar  acquaintance,  he  would  be  certain  to  change  his 
manner;  and  when  he  met  with  any  one  in  full-dress  cap,  or 
with  any  blind  person,  he  would  also  unfailingly  put  on  a  differ- 
ent look,  even  though  he  were  himself  in  undress  at  the  time. 

In  saluting  any  person  wearing  mourning  he  would  bow  for- 
wards towards  the  front  bar  of  his  carriage ;  in  the  same  man- 
ner he  would  also  salute  the  bearer  of  a  census-register. 

When  a  sumptuous  banquet  was  spread  before  him,  a  differ- 
ent expression  would  be  sure  to  appear  in  his  features,  and  he 
would  rise  up  from  his  seat. 

At  a  sudden  thunder-clap,  or  when  the  wind  grew  furious,  his 
look  would  also  invariably  be  changed. 

On  getting  into  his  car,  he  would  never  fail  (first)  to  stand  up 
erect,  holding  on  by  the  strap.  When  in  the  car,  he  would 
never  look  about,  nor  speak  hastily,  nor  bring  one  hand  to  the 
other. 

"  Let  one  but  make  a  movement  in  his  face, 
And  the  bird  will  rise  and  seek  some  safer  place," 

Apropos  of  this,  he  said,  "  Here  is  a  hen-pheasant  from  Shan 
Liang — and  in  season !  and  in  season !  "  After  Tsz-lu  had  got 
it  prepared,  he  smelt  it  thrice,  and  then  rose  up  from  his  seat. 

26  The  act  of  "  grace,"  before  eating. 


BOOK  XI 

Comparative  Worth  of  His  Disciples 

*'  ''  I  ^HE  first  to  make  progress  in  the  Proprieties  and  in 
I  Music,"  said  the  Master,   "  are  plain  countrymen ; 

after  them,  the  men  of  higher  standing.  If  I  had 
to  employ  any  of  them,  I  should  stand  by  the  former." 

"  Of  those,"  said  he,  "  who  were  about  me  when  I  was  in  the 
Ch'in  and  Ts'ai  States,  not  one  now  is  left  to  approach  my 
door." 

"  As  for  Hwui,"-®  said  the  Master,  "  he  is  not  one  to  help  me 
on :  there  is  nothing  I  say  but  he  is  not  well  satisfied  with." 

"What  a  dutiful  son  was  Min  Tsz-k'ien!"  he  exclaimed. 
"  No  one  finds  occasion  to  differ  from  what  his  parents  and 
brothers  have  said  of  him." 

Nan  Yung  used  to  repeat  three  times  over  the  lines  in  the 
Odes  about  the  white  sceptre.  Confucius  caused  his  own  elder 
brother's  daughter  to  be  given  in  marriage  to  him. 

When  Ki  K'ang  inquired  which  of  the  disciples  were  fond  of 
learning,  Confucius  answered  him,  "  There  was  one  Yen  Hwui 
who  was  fond  of  it ;  but  unfortunately  his  allotted  time  was 
short,  and  he  died  ;  and  now  his  like  is  not  to  be  found." 

When  Yen  Yuen  died,  his  father,  Yen  Lu,  begged  for  the 
Master's  carriage  in  order  to  get  a  shell  for  his  coflfin.  "  Ability 
or  no  ability,"  said  the  Master,  "  every  father  still  speaks  of 
'  my  son.'  When  my  own  son  Li  died,  and  the  coffin  for  him 
had  no  shell  to  it,  I  know  I  did  not  go  on  foot  to  get  him  one ; 
but  that  was  because  I  was,  though  retired,  in  the  wake  of  the 
ministers,  and  could  not  therefore  well  do  so." 

On  the  death  of  Yen  Yuen  the  Master  exclaimed,  "  Ah  me ! 
Heaven  is  ruining  me,  Heaven  is  ruining  me !  " 

^The  men  of  virtuous  life  were  Yen  and    Tsz-kung;    the    (capable)    govern- 

Yuen  (Hwiii),  Min  Tsz-k'ien,  Yen  Pih-  ment  servants  were  Yen  Yu  and  Tsz-lu; 

niu,  and  Chung-kung  (Yen  Yung) ;  the  the   literary   students,    Tsz-yu   and    Tsz- 

speakers    and    debaters    were    Tsai    Wo  hia. 

48 


THE   ANALECTS  49 

On  the  same  occasion,  his  waiHng  for  that  disciple  becoming 
excessive,  those  who  were  about  him  said,  "  Sir,  this  is  too 
much  !  " — "  Too  much  ?  "  said  he;  "  if  I  am  not  to  do  so  for 
him,  then — for  whom  else  ?  " 

The  disciples  then  wished  for  the  deceased  a  grand  funeral. 
The  Master  could  not  on  his  part  consent  to  this.  They  never- 
theless gave  him  one.  Upon  this  he  remarked,  "  He  used  to 
look  upon  me  as  if  I  were  his  father.  I  could  never,  however, 
look  on  him  as  a  son.  'Twas  not  my  mistake,  but  yours,  my 
children." 

Tsz-lu  propounded  a  question  about  ministering  to  the  spirits 
of  the  departed.  The  Master  replied,  "  Where  there  is  scarcely 
the  ability  to  minister  to  living  men,  how  shall  there  be  ability 
to  minister  to  the  spirits  ?  "  On  his  venturing  to  put  a  ques- 
tion concerning  death,  he  answered,  "  Where  there  is  scarcely 
any  knowledge  about  life,  how  shall  there  be  any  about 
death  ? " 

The  disciple  Min  was  by  his  side,  looking  affable  and  bland ; 
Tsz-lu  also,  looking  careless  and  intrepid ;  and  Yen  Yu  and 
Tsz-kung,  firm  and  precise.  The  Master  was  cheery.  "  One 
like  Tsz-lu  there,"  said  he,  "  does  not  come  to  a  natural  end." 

Some  persons  in  Lu  were  taking  measures  in  regard  to  the 
Long  Treasury  House.  Min  Tsz-k'ien  observed,  "  How  if  it 
were  repaired  on  the  old  lines?"  The  Master  upon  this  re- 
marked, "  This  fellow  is  not  a  talker,  but  when  he  does  speak  he 
is  bound  to  hit  the  mark  !  " 

"  There  is  Yu's  harpsichord,"  exclaimed  the  Master — "  what 
is  it  doing  at  my  door?  "  On  seeing,  however,  some  disrespect 
shown  to  him  by  the  other  disciples,  he  added,  "  Yu  has  got  as 
far  as  the  top  of  the  hall;  only  he  has  not  yet  entered  the 
house." 

Tsz-kung  asked  which  was  the  worthier  of  the  two — Tsz- 
chang  or  Tsz-hia.  "  The  former,"  answered  the  Master,  "  goes 
beyond  the  mark  ;  the  latter  falls  short  of  it." 

"  So  then  Tsz-chang  is  the  better  of  the  two,  is  he  ?  "  said  he. 

"  To  go  too  far,"  he  replied,  "  is  about  the  same  as  to  fall 
short." 

The  Chief  of  the  Ki  family  was  a  wealthier  man  than  the 
Duke  of  Chow  had  been,  and  yet  Yen  Yu  gathered  and  hoarded 
for  him,  increasing  his  wealth  more  and  more. 

"  He  is  no  follower  of  mine,"  said  the  Master.  "  It  would 
Vol.  IV.— 4 


50  CONFUCIUS 

serve  him  right,  my  children,  to  sound  the  drum,  and  set  upon 
him." 

Characteristics  of  four  disciples: — Tsz-kau  was  simple- 
minded;  Tsang  Si,  a  dullard;  Tsz-chang,  full  of  airs;  Tsz- 
lu,  rough. 

"  As  to  Hwiii,"  said  the  Master,  "  he  comes  near  to  perfec- 
tion, while  frequently  in  great  want.  Tsz-kung  does  not  sub- 
mit to  the  appointments  of  Heaven ;  and  yet  his  goods  are  in- 
creased;— he  is  often  successful  in  his  calculations." 

Tsz-chang  wanted  to  know  some  marks  of  the  naturally  Good 
Man. 

"  He  does  not  walk  in  others'  footprints,"  said  the  Master ; 
"  yet  he  does  not  get  beyond  the  hall  into  the  house." 

Once  the  Master  said,  "  Because  we  allow  that  a  man's  words 
have  something  genuine  in  them,  are  they  necessarily  those  of  a 
superior  man  ?  or  words  carrying  only  an  outward  semblance 
and  show  of  gravity  ?  " 

Tsz-lu  put  a  question  about  the  practice  of  precepts  one  has 
heard.  The  Master's  reply  was,  "  In  a  case  where  there  is  a 
father  or  elder  brother  still  left  with  you,  how  should  you  prac- 
tise all  you  hear?  " 

When,  however,  the  same  question  was  put  to  him  by  Yen 
Yu,  his  reply  was,  "  Yes ;  do  so." 

Kung-si  Hwa  animadverted  upon  this  to  the  Master.  "  Tsz- 
lu  asked  you,  sir,"  said  he,  "  about  the  practice  of  what  one  has 
learnt,  and  you  said,  '  There  may  be  a  father  or  elder  brother 
still  alive  ' ;  but  when  Yen  Yu  asked  the  same  question,  you 
answered,  '  Yes,  do  so.'  I  am  at  a  loss  to  understand  you,  and 
venture  to  ask  what  you  meant." 

The  Master  replied,  "  Yen  Yu  backs  out  of  his  duties ;  there- 
fore I  push  him  on.  Tsz-lu  has  forwardness  enough  for  them 
both ;  therefore  I  hold  him  back." 

On  the  occasion  of  that  time  of  fear  in  KVang,  Yen  Yuen 
having  fallen  behind,  the  Master  said  to  him  (afterwards),  "  I 
took  it  for  granted  you  were  a  dead  man."  "  How  should  I 
dare  to  die,"  said  he,  "  while  you,  sir,  still  lived?  " 

On  Ki  Tsz-jen  putting  to  him  a  question  anent  Tsz-lu  and 
Yen  Yu,  as  to  whether  they  might  be  called  "  great  ministers," 
the  Master  answered,  "  I  had  expected  your  question,  sir,  to  be 
about  something  extraordinary,  and  lo !  it  is  only  about  these 
two.     Those  whom  we  call  '  great  ministers  '  are  such  as  serve 


THE   ANALECTS 


51 


their  prince  conscientiously,  and  who,  when  they  cannot  do  so, 
retire.  At  present,  as  regards  the  two  you  ask  about,  they 
may  be  called  '  qualified  ministers.'  " 

"  Well,  are  they  then,"  he  asked,  "  such  as  will  follow  their 
leader? " 

"  They  would  not  follow  him  who  should  slay  his  father  and 
his  prince !  "  was  the  reply. 

Through  the  intervention  of  Tsz-lu,  Tsz-kau  was  being  ap- 
pointed governor  of  Pi. 

"  You  are  spoiling  a  good  man's  son,"  said  the  Master. 

Tsz-lu  rejoined,  "  But  he  will  have  the  people  and  their  su- 
periors to  gain  experience  from,  and  there  will  be  the  altars; 
what  need  to  read  books?  He  can  become  a  student  after- 
wards." 

"  Here  is  the  reason  for  my  hatred  of  glib-tongued  people," 
said  the  Master. 

On  one  occasion  Tsz-lu,  Tsang  Sin,  Yen  Yu,  and  Kung-si 
Hwa  were  sitting  near  him.  He  said  to  them,  "  Though  I  may 
be  a  day  older  than  you,  do  not  (for  the  moment)  regard  me  as 
such.  While  you  are  living  this  unoccupied  life  you  are  say- 
ing, '  We  do  not  become  known.'  Now  suppose  some  one  got 
to  know  you,  what  then  ?  " 

Tsz-lu — first  to  speak — at  once  answered,  "  Give  me  a  State 
of  large  size  and  armament,  hemmed  in  and  hampered  by  other 
larger  States,  the  population  augmented  by  armies  and  regi- 
ments, causing  a  dearth  in  it  of  food  of  all  kinds ;  give  me 
charge  of  that  State,  and  in  three  years'  time  I  should  make  a 
brave  country  of  it,  and  let  it  know  its  place." 

The  Master  smiled  at  him.  "  Yen,"  said  he,  "  how  would  it 
be  with  you  ?  " 

"  Give  me,"  said  Yen,  "  a  territory  of  sixty  or  seventy  li 
square,  or  of  fifty  or  sixty  square ;  put  me  in  charge  of  that,  and 
in  three  years  I  should  make  the  people  sufficiently  prosperous. 
As  regards  their  knowledge  of  ceremonial  or  music,  I  should 
wait  for  superior  men  to  teach  them  that." 

"  And  with  you,  Kung-si,  how  would  it  be?  " 

This  disciple's  reply  was,  "  I  have  nothing  to  say  about  my 
capabilities  for  such  matters ;  my  wish  is  to  learn.  I  should 
like  to  be  a  junior  assistant,  in  dark  robe  and  cap,  at  the  services 
of  the  ancestral  temple,  and  at  the  Grand  Receptions  of  the 
Princes  by  the  Sovereign." 


52 


CONFUCIUS 


"  And  with  you,  Tsang  Sin  ?  " 

This  disciple  was  strumming  on  his  harpsichord,  but  now 
the  twanging  ceased,  he  turned  from  the  instrument,  rose  to  his 
feet,  and  answered  thus  :  "  Something  different  from  the  choice 
of  these  three."  "  What  harm  ?  "  said  the  Master ;  "  I  want 
each  one  of  you  to  tell  me  what  his  heart  is  set  upon."  "  Well, 
then,"  said  he,  "  give  me — in  the  latter  part  of  spring — dressed 
in  full  spring-tide  attire — in  company  with  five  or  six  young 
fellows  of  twenty,^^  or  six  or  seven  lads  under  that  age,  to  do 
the  ablutions  in  the  I  stream,  enjoy  a  breeze  in  the  rain-dance,-^ 
and  finish  up  with  songs  on  the  road  home." 

The  Master  drew  in  his  breath,  sighed,  and  exclaimed,  "  Ah, 
I  take  with  you  !  " 

The  three  other  disciples  having  gone  out,  leaving  Tsang  Sin 
behind,  the  latter  said,  "  What  think  you  of  the  answers  of  those 
three?" — "Well,  each  told  me  what  was  uppermost  in  his 
mind,"  said  the  Master  ; — "  simply  that." 

"  Why  did  you  smile  at  Tsz-lu,  sir?  " 

"  I  smiled  at  him  because  to  have  the  charge  of  a  State  re- 
quires due  regard  to  the  Rules  of  Propriety,  and  his  words 
betrayed  a  lack  of  modesty." 

"  But  Yen,  then — he  had  a  State  in  view,  had  he  not  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  to  be  shown  a  territory  such  as  he  described 
which  does  not  amount  to  a  State." 

"  But  had  not  Kung-si  also  a  State  in  view  ?  " 

"  What  are  ancestral  temples  and  Grand  Receptions,  but  for 
the  feudal  lords  to  take  part  in  ?  If  Kung-si  were  to  become  an 
unimportant  assistant  at  these  functions,  who  could  become  an 
important  one  ?  " 

»^Lit.,   capped  ones.    At  twenty  they  ^l.e.,  before   the   altars,   where   offer- 

underwent    the    ceremony    of    capping,        ings  were  placed  with  prayer  for  rain, 
and  were  considered  men.  A  religious  dance. 


BOOK  XII 
The  Master's  Answers — Philanthropy — Friendships 

YEN  YUEN  was  asking  about  man's  proper  regard  for 
his  fellow-man.     The  Master  said  to  him,  "  Self-con- 
trol, and  a  habit  of  falling  back  upon  propriety,  virtually 
effect  it.     Let  these  conditions  be  fulfilled  for  one  day,  and 
every  one  round  will  betake  himself  to  the  duty.     Is  it  to  begin 
in  one's  self,  or  think  you,  indeed  !  it  is  to  begin  in  others  ?  " 

"  I  wanted  you  to  be  good  enough,"  said  Yen  Yuen,  "  to  give 
me  a  brief  synopsis  of  it." 

Then  said  the  Master,  "  Without  Propriety  use  not  your 
eyes ;  without  it  use  not  your  ears,  nor  your  tongue,  nor  a  limb 
of  your  body." 

"  I  may  be  lacking  in  diligence,"  said  Yen  Yuen,  "  but  with 
your  favor  I  will  endeavor  to  carry  out  this  advice." 

Chung-kung  asked  about  man's  proper  regard  for  his  fel- 
lows. 

To  him  the  Master  replied  thus :  "  When  you  go  forth  from 
your  door,  be  as  if  you  were  meeting  some  guest  of  importance. 
When  you  are  making  use  of  the  common  people  (for  State 
purposes),  be  as  if  you  were  taking  part  in  a  great  religious 
function.  Do  not  set  before  others  what  you  do  not  desire 
yourself.  Let  there  be  no  resentful  feelings  against  you  when 
you  are  away  in  the  country,  and  none  when  at  home." 

"  I  may  lack  diligence,"  said  Chung-kung,  "  but  with  your 
favor  I  will  endeavor  to  carry  out  this  advice." 

Sz-ma  Niu  asked  the  like  question.  The  answer  he  received 
was  this :  "  The  words  of  the  man  who  has  a  proper  regard  for 
his  fellows  are  uttered  with  difficulty." 

"  '  His  words — uttered  with  difficulty  ?  '  "  he  echoed,  in  sur- 
prise. "  Is  that  what  is  meant  by  proper  regard  for  one's  fel- 
low-creatures ?  " 

"  Where  there  is  difficulty  in  doing,"  the  Master  replied, "  will 
there  not  be  some  difficulty  in  utterance  ?  " 
53 


54  CONFUCIUS 

The  same  disciple  put  a  question  about  the  "  superior  man." 
"  Superior  men,"  he  repHed,  "  are  free  from  trouble  and  appre- 
hension." 

"  '  Free  from  trouble  and  apprehension ! '  "  said  he.  "  Does 
that  make  them  '  superior  men  '?  " 

The  Master  added,  "  Where  there  is  found,  upon  introspec- 
tion, to  be  no  chronic  disease,  how  shall  there  be  any  trouble? 
how  shall  there  be  any  apprehension  ?  " 

The  same  disciple,  being  in  trouble,  remarked,  "  I  am  alone  in 
having  no  brother,  while  all  else  have  theirs — younger  or  elder." 

Tsz-hia  said  to  him,  "  I  have  heard  this :  '  Death  and  life 
have  destined  times ;  wealth  and  honors  rest  with  Heaven. 
Let  the  superior  man  keep  watch  over  himself  without  ceasing, 
showing  deference  to  others,  with  propriety  of  manners — and 
all  within  the  four  seas  will  be  his  brethren.  How  should  he 
be  distressed  for  lack  of  brothers!  '  "-^. 

Tsz-chang  asked  what  sort  of  man  might  be  termed  "en- 
lightened." 

The  Master  replied,  "  That  man  with  whom  drenching  slan- 
der and  cutting  calumny  gain  no  currency  may  well  be  called 
enlightened.  Ay,  he  with  whom  such  things  make  no  way  may 
well  be  called  enlightened  in  the  extreme." 

Tsz-kung  put  a  question  relative  to  government.  In  reply 
the  Master  mentioned  three  essentials : — sufficient  food,  suffi- 
cient armam.ent,  and  the  people's  confidence. 

"  But,"  said  the  disciple,  "  if  you  cannot  really  have  all  three, 
and  one  has  to  be  given  up,  which  would  you  give  up  first  ?  " 

"  The  armament,"  he  replied. 

"  And  if  you  are  obliged  to  give  up  one  of  the  remaining  two, 
which  would  it  be  ?  " 

"  The  food,"  said  he.  "  Death  has  been  the  portion  of  all 
men  from  of  old.  Without  the  people's  trust  nothing  can 
stand." 

Kih  Tsz-shing  once  said,  "  Give  me  the  inborn  qualities  of  a 
gentleman,  and  I  want  no  more.  How  are  such  to  come  from 
book-learning?  " 

Tsz-kung  exclaimed,  "  Ah !  sir,  I  regret  to  hear  such  words 
from  you.  A  gentleman ! — But '  a  team  of  four  can  ne'er  o'er- 
take  the  tongue ! '  Literary  accomplishments  are  much  the 
same  as  inborn  qualities,  and  inborn  qualities  as  literary  ac- 

*»  From  Confucius,  it  is  generally  thought. 


THE  ANALECTS  55 

compHshments,  A  tiger's  or  leopard's  skin  without  the  hair 
might  be  a  dog's  or  sheep's  when  so  made  bare." 

Dutce  Ngai  was  consulting  Yu  Joh.  Said  he,  "  It  is  a  year 
of  dearth,  and  there  is  an  insufficiency  for  Ways  and  Means — 
what  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  Why  not  apply  the  Tithing  Statute?  "  said  the  minister. 

"  But  two  tithings  would  not  be  enough  for  my  purposes," 
said  the  duke ;  "  what  would  be  the  good  of  applying  the 
Statute  ? " 

The  minister  replied,  "  So  long  as  the  people  have  enough 
left  for  themselves,  who  of  them  will  allow  their  prince  to  be 
without  enough?  But — when  the  people  have  not  enough, 
who  will  allow  their  prince  all  that  he  wants?  " 

Tsz-chang  was  asking  how  the  standard  of  virtue  was  to  be 
raised,  and  how  to  discern  what  was  illusory  or  misleading. 
The  Master's  answer  was,  "  Give  a  foremost  place  to  honesty 
and  faithfulness,  and  tread  the  path  of  righteousness,  and  you 
will  raise  the  standard  of  virtue.  As  to  discerning  what  is  illu- 
sory, here  is  an  example  of  an  illusion : — Whom  you  love  you 
wish  to  live ;  whom  you  hate  you  wish  to  die.  To  have  wished 
the  same  person  to  live  and  also  to  be  dead — there  is  an 
illusion  for  you." 

Duke  King  of  Ts'i  consulted  Confucius  about  government. 
His  answer  was,  "  Let  a  prince  be  a  prince,  and  ministers  be 
ministers ;  let  fathers  be  fathers,  and  sons  be  sons." 

"  Good !  "  exclaimed  the  duke ;  "  truly  if  a  prince  fail  to  be  a 
prince,  and  ministers  to  be  ministers,  and  if  fathers  be  not 
fathers,  and  sons  not  sons,  then,  even  though  I  may  have  my 
allowance  of  grain,  should  I  ever  be  able  to  relish  it?  " 

"  The  man  to  decide  a  cause  with  half  a  word,"  exclaimed  the 
Master,  "  is  Tsz-lu !  " 

Tsz-lu  never  let  a  night  pass  between  promise  and  per- 
formance. 

"  In  hearing  causes,  I  am  like  other  men,"  said  the  Master. 
"  The  great  point  is — to  prevent  litigation." 

Tsz-chang  having  raised  some  question  about  government, 
the  Master  said  to  him,  "  In  the  settlement  of  its  principles  be 
unwearied  ;  in  its  administration — see  to  that  loyally." 

"  The  man  of  wide  research,"  said  he,  "  who  also  restrains 
himself  by  the  Rules  of  Propriety,  is  not  likely  to  transgress." 

Again,  "  The  noble-minded  man  makes  the  most  of  others* 


56  CONFUCIUS 

good  qualities,  not  the  worst  of  their  bad  ones.  Men  of  small 
mind  do  the  reverse  of  this." 

Ki  K'ang  was  consulting  him  about  the  direction  of  public 
affairs.  Confucius  answered  him,  "  A  director  should  be  him- 
self correct.  If  you,  sir,  as  a  leader  show  correctness,  who  will 
dare  not  to  be  correct  ?  " 

Ki  K'ang,  being  much  troubled  on  account  of  robbers 
abroad,  consulted  Confucius  on  the  matter.  He  received  this 
reply :  "  If  you,  sir,  were  not  covetous,  neither  would  they 
steal,  even  were  you  to  bribe  them  to  do  so." 

Ki  K'ang,  when  consulting  Confucius  about  the  govern- 
ment, said,  "  Suppose  I  were  to  put  to  death  the  disorderly  for 
the  better  encouragement  of  the  orderly — what  say  you  to 
that?" 

"  Sir,"  replied  Confucius,  "  in  the  administration  of  govern- 
ment why  resort  to  capital  punishment  ?  Covet  what  is  good, 
and  the  people  will  be  good.  The  virtue  of  the  noble-minded 
man  is  as  the  wind,  and  that  of  inferior  men  as  grass ;  the  grass 
must  bend,  when  the  wind  blows  upon  it." 

Tsz-chang  asked  how  otherwise  he  would  describe  the 
learned  official  who  might  be  termed  influential. 

"  What,  I  wonder,  do  you  mean  by  one  who  is  influential?  " 
said  the  Master. 

"  I  mean,"  replied  the  disciple,  "  one  who  is  sure  to  have  a 
reputation  throughout  the  country,  as  well  as  at  home." 

"  That,"  said  the  Master,  "  is  reputation,  not  Influence.  The 
influential  man,  then,  if  he  be  one  who  is  genuinely  straight- 
forward and  loves  what  is  just  and  right,  a  discriminator  of 
men's  words,  and  an  observer  of  their  looks,  and  in  honor  care- 
ful to  prefer  others  to  himself — will  certainly  have  influence, 
both  throughout  the  country  and  at  home.  The  man  of  mere 
reputation,  on  the  other  hand,  who  speciously  affects  philan- 
thropy, though  in  his  way  of  procedure  he  acts  contrary  to  it, 
while  yet  quite  evidently  engrossed  with  that  virtue — will  cer- 
tainly have  reputation,  both  in  the  country  and  at  home." 

Fan  Ch'i,  strolling  with  him  over  the  ground  below  the  place 
of  the  rain-dance,  said  to  him,  "  I  venture  to  ask  how  to  raise 
the  standard  of  virtue,  how  to  reform  dissolute  habits,  and  how 
to  discern  what  is  illusory  ?  " 

"  Ah !  a  good  question  indeed !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Well,  is 
not  putting  duty  first,  and  success  second,  a  way  of  raising  the 


THE   ANALECTS  57 

standard  of  virtue?  And  is  not  attacking  the  evil  in  one's  self, 
and  not  the  evil  which  is  in  others,  a  way  of  reforming  dissolute 
habits  ?  And  as  to  illusions,  is  not  one  morning's  fit  of  anger, 
causing  a  m.an  to  forget  himself,  and  even  involving  in  the  con- 
sequences those  who  are  near  and  dear  to  him — is  not  that  an 
illusion  ?  " 

The  same  disciple  asked  him  what  was  meant  by  "  a  right  re- 
gard for  one's  fellow-creatures."  He  replied,  "  It  is  love  to 
man." 

Asked  by  him  again  what  was  meant  by  wisdom,  he  replied, 
"  It  is  knowledge  of  man." 

Fan  Ch'i  did  not  quite  grasp  his  meaning. 

The  Master  went  on  to  say,  "  Lift  up  the  straight,  set  aside 
the  crooked,  so  can  you  make  the  crooked  straight." 

Fan  Ch'i  left  him,  and  meeting  with  Tsz-hia  he  said,  "  I  had 
an  interview  just  now  with  the  Master,  and  I  asked  him  what 
wisdom  was.  In  his  answer  he  said,  '  Lift  up  the  straight,  set 
aside  the  crooked,  and  so  can  you  make  the  crooked  straight.' 
What  was  his  meaning?  " 

"  Ah !  words  rich  in  meaning,  those,"  said  the  other. 
"  When  Shun  was  emperor,  and  was  selecting  his  men  from 
among  the  multitude,  he  *  lifted  up  '  Kau-yau ;  and  men  devoid 
of  right  feelings  towards  their  kind  went  far  away.  And  when 
T'ang  was  emperor,  and  chose  out  his  men  from  the  crowd,  he 
'  lifted  up  '  I-yin — with  the  same  result." 

Tsz-kung  was  consulting  him  about  a  friend.  "  Speak  to 
him  frankly,  and  respectfully,"  said  the  Master,  "  and  gently 
lead  him  on.  If  you  do  not  succeed,  then  stop  ;  do  not  submit 
yourself  to  indignity." 

The  learned  Tsang  observed,  "  In  the  society  of  books  the 
'  superior  man  '  collects  his  friends  ;  in  the  society  of  his  friends 
he  is  furthering  good-will  among  men." 


BOOK   XIII 
Answers  on  the  Art  of  Governing — Consistency 

TSZ-LU  was  asking  about  government.     "  Lead  the  way 
in  it,"  said  the  Master,  "  and  work  hard  at  it." 

Requested  to  say  more,  he  added,  "  And  do  not 
tire  of  it." 

Chung-kung,  on  being  made  first  minister  to  the  Chief  of  the 
Ki  family,  consulted  the  Master  about  government,  and  to  him 
he  said,  "  Let  the  heads  of  offices  be  heads.  Excuse  small 
faults.     Promote  men  of  sagacity  and  talent." 

"  But,"  he  asked,  "  how  am  I  to  know  the  sagacious  and 
talented,  before  promoting  them  ?  " 

"  Promote  those  whom  you   do   know,"   said   the   Master. 

"  As  to  those  of  whom  you  are  uncertain,  will  others  omit  to 
notice  them  ?  " 

Tsz-lu  said  to  the  Master,  "  As  the  prince  of  Wei,  sir,  has 
been  waiting  for  you  to  act  for  him  in  his  government,  what  is 
it  your  intention  to  take  in  hand  first  ?  " 

"  One  thing  of  necessity,"  he  answered — "  the  rectification 
of  terms." 

"  That !  "  exclaimed  Tsz-lu.  "  How  far  away  you  are,  sir ! 
Why  such  rectification?  " 

"  What  a  rustic  you  are,  Tsz-lu  !  "  rejoined  the  Master.  "  A 
gentleman  would  be  a  little  reserved  and  reticent  in  matters 
which  he  does  not  understand.  If  terms  be  incorrect,  language 
will  be  incongruous ;  and  if  language  be  incongruous,  deeds 
will  be  imperfect.  So,  again,  when  deeds  are  im.perfect,  pro- 
priety and  harmony  cannot  prevail,  and  when  this  is  the  case 
laws  relating  to  crime  will  fail  in  their  aim ;  and  if  these  last 
so  fail,  the  people  will  not  know  where  to  set  hand  or  foot. 
Hence,  a  man  of  superior  mind,  certain  first  of  his  terms,  is 
fitted  to  speak ;  and  being  certain  of  what  he  says  can  proceed 
upon  it.  In  the  language  of  such  a  person  there  is  nothing 
heedlessly  irregular — and  that  is  the  sum  of  the  matter," 
58 


THE   ANALECTS  59 

Fan  Ch'i  requested  that  he  might  learn  something  of  hus- 
bandry. "  For  that,"  said  the  Master,  "  I  am  not  equal  to  an 
old  husbandman."  Might  he  then  learn  something  of  garden- 
ing? he  asked.  "  I  am  not  equal  to  an  old  gardener,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  A  man  of  little  mind,  that !  "  said  the  Master,  when  Fan 
Ch'i  had  gone  out.  "  Let  a  man  who  is  set  over  the  people  love 
propriety,  and  they  will  not  presume  to  be  disrespectful.  Let 
him  be  a  lover  of  righteousness,  and  they  will  not  presume  to 
be  aught  but  submissive.  Let  him  love  faithfulness  and  truth, 
and  they  will  not  presume  not  to  lend  him  their  hearty  assist- 
ance. Ah,  if  all  this  only  were  so,  the  people  from  all  sides 
would  come  to  such  a  one,  carrying  their  children  on  their 
backs.     What  need  to  turn  his  hand  to  husbandry? 

"  Though  a  man,"  said  he,  "  could  hum  through  the  Odes 
— the  three  hundred — yet  should  show  himself  unskilled  when 
given  some  administrative  work  to  do  for  his  country ;  though 
he  might  know  much  of  that  other  lore,  yet  if,  when  sent  on  a 
mission  to  any  quarter,  he  could  answer  no  question  personally 
and  unaided,  what  after  all  is  he  good  for? 

"  Let  a  leader,"  said  he,  "  show  rectitude  in  his  own  personal 
character,  and  even  without  directions  from  him  things  will  go 
well.  If  he  be  not  personally  upright,  his  directions  will  not  be 
complied  with." 

Once  he  made  the  remark,  "  The  governments  of  Lu  and  of 
Wei  are  in  brotherhood." 

Of  King,  a  son  of  the  Duke  of  Wei,  he  observed  that  "  he 
managed  his  household  matters  well.  On  his  coming  into 
possession,  he  thought,  '  What  a  strange  conglomeration ! ' — 
Coming  to  possess  a  little  more,  it  was, '  Strange,  such  a  result ! ' 
And  when  he  became  wealthy, '  Strange,  such  elegance  ! '  " 

The  Master  was  on  a  journey  to  Wei,  and  Yen  Yu  was  driving 
him.  "  What  multitudes  of  people !  "  he  exclaimed.  Yen  Yu 
asked  him,  "  Seeing  they  are  so  numerous,  what  more  would 
you  do  for  them  ?  " 

"  Enrich  them,"  replied  the  Master. 

"  And  after  enriching  them,  what  more  would  you  do  for 
them?  " 

"  Instruct  them."  . 

"  Were  any  one  of  our  princes  to  employ  me,"  he  said,  "after 
a  twelvemonth  I  might  have  made  some  tolerable  progress ; 
but  give  me  three  years,  and  my  work  should  be  done." 


6o  CONFUCIUS 

Again,  "  How  true  is  that  saying,  '  Let  good  men  have  the 
management  of  a  country  for  a  century,  and  they  would  be  ade- 
quate to  cope  with  evil-doers,  and  thus  do  away  with  capital 
punishments.'  " 

Again,  "  Suppose  the  ruler  to  possess  true  kingly  qualities, 
then  surely  after  one  generation  there  would  be  good-will 
among  men." 

Again,  "  Let  a  ruler  but  see  to  his  own  rectitude,  and  what 
trouble  will  he  then  have  in  the  work  before  him?  If  he  be 
unable  to  rectify  himself,  how  is  he  to  rectify  others?  " 

Once  when  Yen  Yu  was  leaving  the  Court,  the  Master  oc- 
costed  him.  "  Why  so  late  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Busy  with  legisla- 
tion," Yen  replied.  "  The  details  of  it,"  suggested  the  Master ; 
"  had  it  been  legislation,  I  should  have  been  there  to  hear  it, 
even  though  I  am  not  in  office." 

Duke  Ting  asked  if  there  were  one  sentence  which,  if  acted 
upon,  might  have  the  effect  of  making  a  country  prosperous. 

Confucius  answered,  "  A  sentence  could  hardly  be  supposed 
to  do  so  much  as  that.  But  there  is  a  proverb  people  use  which 
says, '  To  play  the  prince  is  hard,  to  play  the  minister  not  easy.' 
Assuming  that  it  is  understood  that  '  to  play  the  prince  is 
hard,'  would  it  not  be  probable  that  with  that  one  sentence  the 
country  should  be  made  to  prosper  ?  " 

"  Is  there,  then,"  he  asked,  "  one  sentence  which,  if  acted 
upon,  would  have  the  effect  of  ruining  a  country  ?  " 

Confucius  again  repHed,  "  A  sentence  could  hardly  be  sup- 
posed to  do  so  much  as  that.  But  there  is  a  proverb  men  have 
which  says,  '  Not  gladly  would  I  play  the  prince,  unless  my 
words  were  ne'er  withstood.'  Assuming  that  the  words  were 
good,  and  that  none  withstood  them,  would  not  that  also  be 
good?  But  assuming  that  they  were  not  good,  and  yet  none 
withstood  them,  would  it  not  be  probable  that  with  that  one  say- 
ing he  would  work  his  country's  ruin  ?  " 

When  the  Duke  of  Sheh  consulted  him  about  government,  he 
replied,  "  Where  the  near  are  gratified,  the  far  will  follow." 

When  Tsz-hia  became  governor  of  Kii-fu,  and  consulted  him 
about  government,  he  answered,  "  Do  not  wish  for  speedy  re- 
sults. Do  not  look  at  trivial  advantages.  If  you  wish  for 
speedy  results,  they  will  not  be  far-reaching ;  and  if  you  regard 
trivial  advantages  you  will  not  successfully  deal  with  impor- 
tant affairs." 


THE   ANALECTS  6i 

The  Duke  of  Sheh  in  a  conversation  with  Confucius  said, 
"  There  are  some  straightforward  persons  in  my  neighborhood. 
If  a  father  has  stolen  a  sheep,  the  son  will  give  evidence  against 
him." 

"  Straightforward  people  in  my  neighborhood  are  different 
from  those,"  said  Confucius.  "  The  father  will  hold  a  thing 
secret  on  his  son's  behalf,  and  the  son  does  the  same  for  his 
father.     They  are  on  their  way  to  becoming  straightforward." 

Fan  Ch'i  was  asking  him  about  duty  to  one's  fellow-men. 
"  Be  courteous,"  he  replied,  "  in  your  private  sphere  ;  be  serious 
in  any  duty  you  take  in  hand  to  do ;  be  leal-hearted  in  your  in- 
tercourse with  others.  Even  though  you  were  to  go  amongst 
the  wild  tribes,  it  would  not  be  right  for  you  to  neglect  these 
duties." 

In  answer  to  Tsz-kung,  who  asked,  "  how  he  would  charac- 
terize one  who  could  fitly  be  called  'learned  ofBcial,' "  the 
Master  said,  "  He  may  be  so-called  who  in  his  private  life  is 
affected  with  a  sense  of  his  own  unworthiness,  and  who,  when 
sent  on  a  mission  to  any  quarter  of  the  empire,  would  not  dis- 
grace his  prince's  commands." 

"  May  I  presume,"  said  his  questioner,  "  to  ask  what  sort  you 
would  put  next  to  such  ?  " 

"  Him  who  is  spoken  of  by  his  kinsmen  as  a  dutiful  son,  and 
whom  the  folks  of  his  neighborhood  call '  good  brother.'  " 

"  May  I  still  venture  to  ask  whom  you  would  place  next  in 
order  ?  " 

"  Such  as  are  sure  to  be  true  to  their  word,  and  effective  in 
their  work — who  are  given  to  hammering,  as  it  were,  upon  one 
note — of  inferior  calibre  indeed,  but  fit  enough,  I  think,  to  be 
ranked  next." 

"  How  would  you  describe  those  who  are  at  present  in  the 
government  service?  " 

"  Ugh  !  mere  peck  and  panier  men ! — not  worth  taking  into 
the  reckoning." 

Once  he  remarked,  "  If  I  cannot  get  via  media  men  to  impart 
instruction  to,  then  I  must  of  course  take  the  impetuous  and 
undisciplined !  The  impetuous  ones  will  at  least  go  forward 
and  lay  hold  on  things ;  and  the  undisciplined  have  at  least 
something  in  them  which  needs  to  be  brought  out." 

"  The  Southerners,"  said  he,  "  have  the  proverb,  '  The  man 
who  sticks  not  to  rule  will  never  make  a  charm-worker  or  a 


62  CONFUCIUS 

medical  man.*  Good ! — '  Whoever  is  intermittent  in  his  prac- 
tise of  virtue  will  live  to  be  ashamed  of  it.'  Without  prognos- 
tication," he  added,  "  that  will  indeed  be  so." 

"  The  nobler-minded  man,"  he  remarked,  "  will  be  agreeable 
even  when  he  disagrees ;  the  small-minded  man  will  agree  and 
be  disagreeable." 

Tsz-kung  was  consulting  him,  and  asked,  "  What  say  you  of 
a  person  who  was  liked  by  all  in  his  village?  " 

"  That  will  scarcely  do,"  he  answered. 

"  What,  then,  if  they  all  disliked  him?  " 

"  That,  too,"  said  he,  "  is  scarcely  enough.  Better  if  he  were 
liked  by  the  good  folk  in  the  village,  and  disliked  by  the  bad." 

"  The  superior  man,"  he  once  observed,  "  is  easy  to  serve,  but 
difficult  to  please.  Try  to  please  him  by  the  adoption  of  wrong 
principles,  and  you  will  fail.  Also,  when  such  a  one  employs 
others,  he  uses  them  according  to  their  capacity.  The  inferior 
man  is,  on  the  other  hand,  difficult  to  serve,  but  easy  to  please. 
Try  to  please  him  by  the  adoption  of  wrong  principles,  and  you 
will  succeed.  And  when  he  employs  others  he  requires  them 
to  be  fully  prepared  for  everything." 

Again,  "  The  superior  man  can  be  high  without  being 
haughty.     Tlie  inferior  man  can  be  haughty  if  not  high." 

"  The  firm,  the  unflinching,  the  plain  and  simple,  the  slow  to 
speak,"  said  he  once,  "  are  approximating  towards  their  duty 
to  their  fellow-men." 

Tsz-lu  asked  how  he  would  characterize  one  who  might  fitly 
be  called  an  educated  gentleman.  The  master  replied,  "  He 
who  can  properly  be  so-called  will  have  in  him  a  seriousness  of 
purpose,  a  habit  of  controlling  himself,  and  an  agreeableness  of 
manner :  among  his  friends  and  associates  the  seriousness  and 
the  self-control,  and  among  his  brethren  the  agreeableness  of 
manner." 

"  Let  good  and  able  men  discipline  the  people  for  seven 
years,"  said  the  Master,  "  and  after  that  they  may  do  to  go  to 
war." 

But,  said  he,  "  To  lead  an  undisciplined  people  to  war — that 
I  call  throwing  them  away." 


BOOK  XIV 

Good  and  Bad  Government — Miscellaneous  Sayings 

YUEN  SZ  asked  what  might  be  considered  to  bring  shame 
on  one. 

"  Pay,"  said  the  Master ;  "  pay — ever  looking  to  that, 
whether  the  country  be  well  or  badly  governed." 

"  When  imperiousness,  boastfulness,  resentments,  and  cov- 
etousness  cease  to  prevail  among  the  people,  may  it  be  consid- 
ered that  mutual  good-will  has  been  effected  ?  "  To  this  ques- 
tion the  Master  replied,  "  A  hard  thing  overcome,  it  may  be 
considered.     But  as  to  the  mutual  good-will — I  cannot  tell." 

"  Learned  officials,"  said  he,  "  who  hanker  after  a  home  life, 
are  not  worthy  of  being  esteemed  as  such." 

Again,  "  In  a  country  under  good  government,  speak  boldly, 
act  boldly.  When  the  land  is  ill-governed,  though  you  act 
boldly,  let  your  words  be  moderate." 

Again,  "  Men  of  virtue  will  needs  be  men  of  words — will 
speak  out — but  men  of  words  are  not  necessarily  men  of  virtue. 
They  who  care  for  their  fellow-men  will  needs  be  bold,  but  the 
bold  may  not  necessarily  be  such  as  care  for  their  fellow-men." 

Nan-kung  Kwoh,  who  was  consulting  Confucius,  observed 
respecting  I,  the  skilful  archer,  and  Ngau,  who  could  propel  a 
boat  on  dry  land,  that  neither  of  them  died  a  natural  death ; 
while  Yu  and  Tsih,  who  with  their  own  hands  had  labored  at 
husbandry,  came  to  wield  imperial  sway. 

The  Master  gave  him  no  reply.  But  when  the  speaker  had 
gone  out  he  exclaimed,  "  A  superior  man,  that !  A  man  who 
values  virtue,  that !  " 

"  There  have  been  noble-minded  men,"  said  he,  "  who  yet 
were  wanting  in  philanthropy ;  but  never  has  there  been  a 
small-minded  man  who  had  philanthropy  in  him." 

He  asked,  "  Can  any  one  refuse  to  toil  for  those  he  loves  ? 
Can  any  one  refuse  to  exhort,  who  is  true-hearted  ?  " 
63 


64  CONFUCIUS 

Speaking  of  the  preparation  of  Government  Notifications  in 
his  day  he  said,  "  P'i  would  draw  up  a  rough  sketch  of  what 
was  to  be  said ;  the  Shishuh  then  looked  it  carefully  through 
and  put  it  into  proper  shape ;  Tsz-yu  next,  who  was  master  of 
the  ceremonial  of  State  intercourse,  improved  and  adorned  its 
phrases ;  and  Tsz-ch'an  of  Tung-li  added  his  scholarly  embel- 
lishments thereto." 

To  some  one  who  asked  his  opinion  of  the  last-named,  he  said, 
"  He  was  a  kind-hearted  man."  Asked  what  he  thought  of 
Tsz-si,  he  exclaimed,  "  Alas  for  him !  alas  for  him  !  " — Asked 
again  about  Kwan  Chung,  his  answer  was,  "  As  to  him,  he 
once  seized  the  town  of  P'in  with  its  three  hundred  families 
from  the  Chief  of  the  Pih  clan,  who,  afterwards  reduced  to  liv- 
ing upon  coarse  rice,  with  all  his  teeth  gone,  never  uttered  a 
word  of  complaint." 

"  It  is  no  light  thing,"  said  he,  "  to  endure  poverty  uncom- 
plainingly; and  a  difficult  thing  to  bear  wealth  without  be- 
coming arrogant." 

Respecting  Mang  Kung-ch'oh,  he  said  that,  while  he  was 
fitted  for  something  better  than  the  post  of  chief  officer  in  the 
Chau  or  Wei  families,  he  was  not  competent  to  act  as  minister 
in  small  States  like  those  of  T'ang  or  Sieh. 

Tsz-lu  asked  how  he  would  describe  a  perfect  man.  He  re- 
plied, "  Let  a  man  have  the  sagacity  of  Tsang  Wu-chung,  the 
freedom  from  covetousness  of  Kung-ch'oh,  the  boldness  of 
Chwang  of  P'in,  and  the  attainments  in  polite  arts  of  Yen  Yu ; 
and  gift  him  further  with  the  graces  taught  by  the  '  Books  of 
Rites '  and  '  Music  ' — then  he  may  be  considered  a  perfect 
man.  But,"  said  he,  "  what  need  of  such  in  these  days?  The 
man  that  may  be  regarded  as  perfect  now  is  the  one  who,  seeing 
some  advantage  to  himself,  is  mindful  of  righteousness ;  who, 
seeing  danger,  risks  his  life ;  and  who,  if  bound  by  some  cove- 
nant of  long  standing,  never  forgets  its  conditions  as  life  goes 
on." 

Respecting  Kung-shuh  Wan,  the  Master  inquired  of  Kung- 
ming  Kia,  saying,  "  Is  it  true  that  your  master  never  speaks, 
never  laughs,  never  takes  aught  from  others?  " 

"  Those  who  told  you  that  of  him,"  said  he,  "  have  gone  too 
far.  My  master  speaks  when  there  is  occasion  to  do  so,  and 
men  are  not  surfeited  with  his  speaking.  When  there  is  occa- 
sion to  be  merry  too,  be  will  laugh,  but  men  have  never  over- 


THE   ANALECTS  65 

much  of  his  laughing.  And  whenever  it  is  just  and  right  to 
take  things  from  others,  he  will  take  them,  but  never  so  as  to 
allow  men  to  think  him  burdensome."  "  Is  that  the  case  with 
him?  "  said  the  Master.     "  Can  it  be  so?  " 

Respecting  Tsang  Wu-chung  the  Master  said,  "  When  he 
sought  from  Lu  the  appointment  of  a  successor  to  him,  and  for 
this  object  held  on  to  his  possession  of  the  fortified  city  of 
Fang — if  you  say  he  was  not  then  using  constraint  towards  his 
prince,  I  must  refuse  to  believe  it." 

Duke  Wan  of  Tsin  he  characterized  as  "  artful  but  not  up- 
right " ;   and  Duke  Hwan  of  Ts'i  as  "  upright  but  not  artful." 

Tsz-lu  remarked,  "  When  Duke  Hwan  caused  his  brother 
Kiu  to  be  put  to  death,  Shau  Hwuh  committed  suicide,  but 
Kwan  Chung  did  not.  I  should  say  he  was  not  a  man  who 
had  much  good-will  in  him — eh  ?  " 

The  Master  replied,  "  When  Duke  Hwan  held  a  great  gather- 
ing of  the  feudal  lords,  dispensing  with  military  equipage,  it 
was  owing  to  Kwan  Chung's  energy  that  such  an  event  was 
brought  about.  Match  such  good-will  as  that — match  it  if  you 
can." 

Tsz-kung  then  spoke  up.  "  But  was  not  Kwan  Chung  want- 
ing in  good-will?  He  could  not  give  up  his  life  when  Duke 
Hwan  caused  his  brother  to  be  put  to  death.  Besides,  he  be- 
came the  duke's  counsellor." 

"  And  in  acting  as  his  counsellor  put  him  at  the  head  of  all  the 
feudal  lords,"  said  the  Master,  "  and  unified  and  reformed  the 
whole  empire ;  and  the  people,  even  to  this  day,  reap  benefit 
from  what  he  did.  Had  it  not  been  for  him  we  should  have 
been  going  about  with  locks  unkempt  and  buttoning  our 
jackets  (like  barbarians)  on  the  left.  Would  you  suppose  that 
he  should  show  the  same  sort  of  attachment  as  exists  between 
a  poor  yokel  and  his  one  wife — that  he  would  asphyxiate  him- 
self in  some  sewer,  leaving  no  one  the  wiser?  " 

Kung-shuh  Wan's  steward,  who  became  the  high  officer 
Sien,  went  up  accompanied  by  Wan  to  the  prince's  hall  of 
audience. 

When  Confucius  heard  of  this  he  remarked,  "  He  may  well 
be  esteemed  a  '  Wan.'  " 

The  Master  having  made  some  reference  to  the  lawless  ways 
of  Duke  Ling  of  Wei,  Ki  K'ang  said  to  him,  "  If  he  be  like  that, 
how  is  it  he  does  not  ruin  his  position?  " 
Vol.  IV.— 5 


66  CONFUCIUS 

Confucius  answered,  "  The  Chung-shuh,  Yu,  is  charged  with 
the  entertainment  of  visitors  and  strangers ;  the  priest  T'o  has 
charge  of  the  ancestral  temple ;  and  Wang-sun  Kia  has  the 
control  of  the  army  and  its  divisions : — with  men  such  as  those, 
how  should  he  come  to  ruin  ?  " 

He  once  remarked,  "  He  who  is  unblushing  in  his  words  will 
with  difificulty  substantiate  them." 

Ch'in  Shing  had  slain  Duke  Kien.  Hearing  of  this,  Confu- 
cius, after  performing  his  ablutions,  went  to  Court  and  an- 
nounced the  news  to  Duke  Ngai,  saying,  "  Ch'in  Hang  has 
slain  his  prince.  May  I  request  that  you  proceed  against 
him  ?  " 

"  Inform  the  Chiefs  of  the  Three  Families,"  said  the  duke. 

Soliloquizing  upon  this,  Confucius  said,  "  Since  he  uses  me 
to  back  his  ministers,^"  I  did  not  dare  not  to  announce  the 
matter  to  him  ;  and  now  he  says,  '  Inform  the  Three  Chiefs.'  " 

He  went  to  the  Three  Chiefs  and  informed  them,  but  nothing 
could  be  done.  Whereupon  again  he  said,  "  Since  he  uses  me 
to  back  his  ministers,  I  did  not  dare  not  to  announce  the  mat- 
ter." 

Tsz-lu  was  questioning  him  as  to  how  he  should  serve  his 
prince.     "  Deceive  him  not,  but  reprove  him,"  he  answered. 

"  The  minds  of  superior  men,"  he  observed,  "  trend  upwards ; 
those  of  inferior  men  trend  downwards." 

Again,  "  Students  of  old  fixed  their  eyes  upon  themselves : 
now  they  learn  with  their  eyes  upon  others." 

Ku  Pih-yuh  despatched  a  man  with  a  message  to  Confucius. 
Confucius  gave  him  a  seat,  and  among  other  inquiries  he  asked, 
"  How  is  your  master  managing?  "  "  My  master,"  he  repHed, 
"  has  a  great  wish  to  be  seldom  at  fault,  and  as  yet  he  cannot 
manage  it." 

"  What  a  messenger!  "  exclaimed  he,  admiringly,  when  the 
man  went  out.     "  What  a  messenger !  " 

"  When  not  occupying  the  office,"  was  a  remark  of  his,  "  de- 
vise not  the  policy." 

The  Learned  Tsang  used  to  say,  "  The  thoughts  of  the 
'  superior  man  '  do  not  wander  from  his  own  office." 

"  Superior  men,"  said  the  Master,  ""  are  modest  in  their 
words,  profuse  in  their  deeds."  \ 

»"  Confucius  had   now  retired  from  office,  and  this  incident  occurred  only 
t*o  years  before  his  death. 


THE   ANALECTS  67 

Again,  "  There  are  three  attainments  of  the  superior  man 
which  are  beyond  me — the  being  sympathetic  without  anxiety, 
wise  without  scepticism,  brave  without  fear." 

"  Sir,"  said  Tsz-kung,  "  that  is  what  you  say  of  yourself." 

Whenever  Tsz-kung  drew  comparisons  from  others,  the 
Master  would  say,  "  Ah,  how  wise  and  great  you  must  have 
become  !     Now  I  have  no  time  to  do  that." 

Again,  "  My  great  concern  is,  not  that  men  do  not  know 
me,  but  that  they  cannot." 

Again,  **  If  a  man  refrain  from  making  preparations  against 
his  being  imposed  upon,  and  from  counting  upon  others'  want 
of  good  faith  towards  him,  while  he  is  foremost  to  perceive  what 
is  passing — surely  that  is  a  wise  and  good  man." 

Wi-shang  Mau  accosted  Confucius,  saying,  "  Kiu,  how 
comes  it  that  you  manage  to  go  perching  and  roosting  in  this 
way?  Is  it  not  because  you  show  yourself  so  smart  a  speaker, 
now?  " 

"  I  should  not  dare  do  that,"  said  Confucius.  "  'Tis  that  I 
am  sick  of  men's  immovableness  and  deafness  to  reason." 

"  In  a  well-bred  horse,"  said  he,  "  what  one  admires  is  not  its 
speed,  but  its  good  points." 

Some  one  asked,  "  What  say  you  of  the  remark,  '  Requite 
enmity  with  kindness  '?  " 

"How  then,"  he  answered,  ''would  you  requite  kindness? 
Requite  enmity  with  straightforwardness,  and  kindness  with 
kindness." 

"  Ah  !  no  one  knows  me !  "  he  once  exclaimed. 

"  Sir,"  said  Tsz-kung,  "  how  comes  it  to  pass  that  no  one 
knows  you  ?  " 

"  While  I  murmur  not  against  Heaven,"  continued  the  Mas- 
ter, "  nor  cavil  at  men ;  while  I  stoop  to  learn  and  aspire  to 
penetrate  into  things  that  are  high ;  yet  'tis  Heaven  alone 
knows  what  I  am." 

Liau,  a  kinsman  of  the  duke,  having  laid  a  complaint  against 
Tsz-lu  before  Ki  K'ang,  an  officer  came  to  Confucius  to  inform 
him  of  the  fact,  and  he  added,  "  My  lord  is  certainly  having  his 
mind  poisoned  by  his  kinsman  Liau,  but  through  my  influence 
perhaps  we  may  yet  manage  to  see  him  exposed  in  the  market- 
place or  the  Court." 

"  If  right  principles  are  to  have  their  course,  it  is  so  destined," 
said  the  Master ;  "  if  they  are  not  to  have  their  course,  it  is  so 
destined.     What  can  Liau  do  against  Destiny?  " 


68  CONFUCIUS 

"  There  are  worthy  men,"  said  the  Master,  "  fleeing  from  the 
world  ;  some  from  their  district ;  some  from  the  sight  of  men's 
looks ;   some  from  the  language  they  hear." 

"  The  men  who  have  risen  from  their  posts  and  withdrawn  in 
this  manner  are  seven  in  number." 

Tsz-lu,  having  lodged  overnight  in  Shih-mun,  was  accosted 
by  the  gate-keeper  in  the  morning.  "Where  fro?a?"  he 
asked.  "  From  Confucius,"  Tsz-lu  responded.  "  That  is  the 
man,"  said  he,  "  who  knows  things  are  not  up  to  the  mark,  and 
is  making  some  ado  about  them,  is  it  not  ?  " 

When  the  Master  was  in  Wei,  he  was  once  pounding  on  the 
musical  stone,  when  a  man  with  a  basket  of  straw  crossed  his 
threshold,  and  exclaimed,  "  Ah,  there  is  a  heart  that  feels !  Aye, 
drub  the  stone  !  "  After  which  he  added,  "  How  vulgar !  how 
he  hammers  away  on  one  note ! — and  no  one  knows  him,  and 
he  gives  up,  and  all  is  over ! 

'  Be  it  deep,  our  skirts  we'll  raise  to  the  waist, 
— Or  shallow,  then  up  to  the  knee.'  " 

"  What  determination !  "  said  the  Master.  "  Yet  it  was  not 
hard  to  do." 

Tsz-chang  once  said  to  him,  "  In  the  '  Book  of  the  Annals  ' 
it  is  stated  that  while  Kau-tsung  was  in  the  Mourning  Shed  he 
spent  the  three  years  without  speaking.  What  is  meant  by 
that  ? " 

"  Why  must  you  name  Kau-tsung?  "  said  the  Master.  "  It 
was  so  with  all  other  ancient  sovereigns:  when  one  of  them 
died,  the  heads  of  every  department  agreed  between  them- 
selves that  they  should  give  ear  for  three  years  to  the  Prime 
Minister." 

"  When  their  betters  love  the  Rules,  then  the  folk  are  easy 
tools,"  was  a  saying  of  the  Master. 

Tsz-lu  having  asked  what  made  a  "  superior  man,"  he  an- 
swered, "  Self-culture,  with  a  view  to  becoming  seriously- 
minded." 

"  Nothing  more  than  that?  "  said  he. 

"  Self-culture  with  a  view  to  the  greater  satisfaction  of 
others,"  added  the  Master. 

"  That,  and  yet  no  more  ?  " 

"  Self-culture  with  a  view  to  the  greater  satisfaction  of  all  the 
clans  and  classes,"  he  again  added.     "  Self-culture  for  the  sake 


THE   ANALECTS  69 

of  all — a  result  that,  that  would  almost  put  Yau  and  Shun  into 
the  shade !  " 

To  Yuen  Jang,^^  who  was  sitting  waiting  for  him  in  a  squat- 
ting (disrespectful)  posture,  the  Master  delivered  himself  as  fol- 
lows :  "  The  man  who  in  his  youth  could  show  no  humility  or 
subordination,  who  in  his  prime  misses  his  opportunity,  and 
who  when  old  age  comes  upon  him  will  not  die — that  man  is  a 
miscreant."     And  he  tapped  him  on  the  shin  with  his  staff. 

Some  one  asked  about  his  attendant — a  youth  from  the  vil- 
lage of  Kiueh — whether  he  was  one  who  improved.  He  re- 
plied, "  I  note  that  he  seats  himself  in  the  places  reserved  for  his 
betters,  and  that  when  he  is  walking  he  keeps  abreast  with  his 
seniors.  He  is  not  one  of  those  who  care  for  improvement: 
he  wants  to  be  a  man  all  at  once." 

»i  It  is  a  habit  with  the  Chinese,  when  off  according  to  their  age.  It  is  a  cus- 
a  number  are  out  walking  together,  for  torn  much  older  than  the  time  of  Con- 
the  eldest  to  go  first,  the  others  pairing        fucius. 


BOOK  XV 
Practical  Wisdom— Reciprocity  the  Rule  of  Life 

DUKE  LING  of  Wei  was  consulting  Confucius  about 
army  arrangements.  His  answer  was,  "  Had  you 
asked  me  about  such  things  as  temple  requisites,  I  have 
learnt  that  business,  but  I  have  not  yet  studied  military  mat- 
ters." And  he  followed  up  this  reply  by  leaving  on  the  follow- 
ing day. 

After  this,  during  his  residence  in  the  State  of  Ch'in,  his  fol- 
lowers, owing  to  a  stoppage  of  food  supply,  became  so  weak 
and  ill  that  not  one  of  them  could  stand.  Tsz-lu,  with  indigna- 
tion pictured  on  his  countenance,  exclaimed,  "  And  is  a  gentle- 
man to  suffer  starvation  ?  " 

"  A  gentleman,"  replied  the  Master,  "  will  endure  it  un- 
moved, but  a  common  person  breaks  out  into  excesses  under 
it." 

Addressing  Tsz-kung,  the  Master  said,  "You  regard  me  as 
one  who  studies  and  stores  up  in  his  mind  a  multiplicity  of 
things — do  you  not?  " — "  I  do,"  he  replied  ;  "  is  it  not  so?  " — 
"  Not  at  all.  I  have  one  idea — one  cord  on  which  to  string 
all." 

To  Tsz-lu  he  remarked,  "  They  who  know  Virtue  are  rare." 

"  If  you  would  know  one  who  without  effort  ruled  well,  was 
not  Shun  such  a  one  ?  What  did  he  indeed  do  ?  He  bore  him- 
self with  reverent  dignity  and  undeviatingly  '  faced  the  south,' 
and  that  was  all." 

Tsz-chang  was  consulting  him  about  making  way  in  life. 
He  answered,  "  Be  true  and  honest  in  all  you  say,  and  seriously 
earnest  in  all  you  do,  and  then,  even  if  your  country  be  one  in- 
habited by  barbarians.  South  or  North,  you  will  make  your 
way.  If  you  do  not  show  yourself  thus  in  word  and  deed  how 
should  you  succeed,  even  in  your  own  district  or  neighborhood  ? 
— When  you  are  afoot,  let  these  two  counsels  be  two  compan- 
70 


THE  ANALECTS  71 

ions  preceding  you,  yourself  viewing  them  from  behind  ;  when 
you  drive,  have  them  in  view  as  on  the  yoke  of  your  carriage. 
Then  may  you  make  your  way." 

Tsz-chang  wrote  them  on  the  two  ends  of  his  cincture. 

"  Straight  was  the  course  of  the  AnnaHst  Yu,"  said  the  Mas- 
ter— "  aye,  straight  as  an  arrow  flies ;  were  the  country  well 
governed  or  ill  governed,  his  was  an  arrow-like  course. 

"  A  man  of  masterly  mind,  too,  is  Kii  Pih-yuh !  When  the 
land  is  being  rightly  governed  he  will  serve ;  when  it  is  under 
bad  government  he  is  apt  to  recoil,  and  brood." 

"  Not  to  speak  to  a  man,"  said  he,  "  to  whom  you  ought  to 
speak,  is  to  lose  your  man  ;  to  speak  to  one  to  whom  you  ought 
not  to  speak  is  to  lose  your  words.  Those  who  are  wise  will 
not  lose  their  man,  nor  yet  their  words." 

Again,  "  The  scholar  whose  heart  is  in  his  work,  and  who  is 
philanthropic,  seeks  not  to  gain  a  livelihood  by  any  means  that 
will  do  harm  to  his  philanthropy.  There  have  been  men  who 
have  destroyed  their  own  lives  in  the  endeavor  to  bring  that 
virtue  in  them  to  perfection." 

Tsz-kung  asked  how  to  become  philanthropic.  The  Master 
answered  him  thus :  "  A  workman  who  wants  to  do  his  work 
well  must  first  sharpen  his  tools.  In  whatever  land  you  live, 
serve  under  some  wise  and  good  man  among  those  in  high 
ofiice,  and  make  friends  with  the  more  humane  of  its  men  of 
education." 

Yen  Yuen  consulted  him  on  the  management  of  a  country. 
He  answered : — 

"  Go  by  the  Hia  Calendar.  Have  the  State  carriages  like 
those  of  the  Yin  princes.  Wear  the  Chow  cap.  For  your 
music  let  that  of  Shun  be  used  for  the  posturers.  Put  away  the 
songs  of  Ch'ing,  and  remove  far  from  you  men  of  artful  speech  : 
the  Ch'ing  songs  are  immodest,  and  artful  talkers  are  dan- 
gerous." 

Other  sayings  of  the  Master: — 

"  They  who  care  not  for  the  morrow  will  the  sooner  have 
their  sorrow. 

"Ah,  'tis  hopeless !  I  have  not  yet  met  with  the  man  who  loves 
Virtue  as  he  loves  Beauty. 

"  Was  not  Tsang  Wan  like  one  who  surreptitiously  came  by 
the  post  he  held  ?  He  knew  the  worth  of  Hwui  of  Liu-hia,  and 
could  not  stand  in  his  presence. 


72  CONFUCIUS 

"  Be  generous  yourself,  and  exact  little  from  others ;  then 
you  banish  complaints. 

"  With  one  who  does  not  come  to  me  inquiring  '  What  of 
this  ?  '  and  '  What  of  that  ?  '  I  never  can  ask  *  What  of  this  ?  '  and 
give  him  up. 

"  If  a  number  of  students  are  all  day  together,  and  in  their 
conversation  never  approach  the  subject  of  righteousness,  but 
are  fond  merely  of  giving  currency  to  smart  little  sayings,  they 
are  difficult  indeed  to  manage. 

"  When  the  '  superior  man '  regards  righteousness  as  the 
thing  material,  gives  operation  to  it  according  to  the  Rules  of 
Propriety,  lets  it  issue  in  humility,  and  become  complete  in  sin- 
cerity— there  indeed  is  your  superior  man  ! 

"  The  trouble  of  the  superior  man  will  be  his  own  want  of 
ability :  it  will  be  no  trouble  to  him  that  others  do  not  know 
him. 

"  Such  a  man  thinks  it  hard  to  end  his  days  and  leave  a  name 
to  be  no  longer  named. 

"  The  superior  man  is  exacting  of  himself ;  the  common  man 
is  exacting  of  others. 

"  A  superior  man  has  self-respect,  and  does  not  strive ;  is 
sociable,  yet  no  party  man. 

"  He  does  not  promote  a  man  because  of  his  words,  or  pass 
over  the  words  because  of  the  man." 

Tsz-kung  put  to  him  the  question,  "  Is  there  one  word  upon 
which  the  whole  life  may  proceed  ?  " 

The  Master  replied,  "  Is  not  Reciprocity  such  a  word  ? — what 
you  do  not  yourself  desire,  do  not  put  before  others." 

"  So  far  as  I  have  to  do  with  others,  whom  do  I  over-censure? 
whom  do  I  over-praise  ?  If  there  be  something  in  them  that 
looks  very  praiseworthy,  that  something  I  put  to  the  test.  I 
would  have  the  men  of  the  present  day  to  walk  in  the  straight 
path  whereby  those  of  the  Three  Dynasties  have  walked. 

"  I  have  arrived  as  it  were  at  the  annalist's  blank  page. — 
Once  he  who  had  a  horse  would  lend  it  to  another  to  mount  ; 
now,  alas !  it  is  not  so. 

"  Artful  speech  is  the  confusion  of  Virtue.  Impatience  over 
little  things  introduces  confusion  into  great  schemes. 

"  What  is  disliked  by  the  masses  needs  inquiring  into ;  so 
also  does  that  which  they  have  a  preference  for. 

"  A  man  may  give  breadth  to  his  principles :  it  is  not  princi- 
ples (in  themselves)  that  give  breadth  to  the  man. 


THE   ANALECTS  73 

"  Not  to  retract  after  committing  an  error  may  itself  be  called 
error. 

"  If  I  have  passed  the  whole  day  without  food  and  the  whole 
night  without  sleep,  occupied  with  my  thoughts,  it  profits  me 
nothing :  I  were  better  engaged  in  learning. 

"  The  superior  man  deliberates  upon  how  he  may  walk  in 
truth,  not  upon  what  he  may  eat.  The  farmer  may  plough,  and 
be  on  the  way  to  want :  the  student  learns,  and  is  on  his  way  to 
emolument.  To  live  a  right  life  is  the  concern  of  men  of 
nobler  minds :  poverty  gives  them  none. 

"  Whatsoever  the  intellect  may  attain  to,  unless  the  humanity 
within  is  powerful  enough  to  keep  guard  over  it,  is  assuredly 
lost,  even  though  it  be  gained. 

"  If  there  be  intellectual  attainments,  and  the  humanity  with- 
in is  powerful  enough  to  keep  guard  over  them,  yet,  unless  (in  a 
ruler)  there  be  dignity  in  his  rule,  the  people  will  fail  to  show 
him  respect. 

"  Again,  given  the  intellectual  attainments,  and  humanity 
sufficient  to  keep  watch  over  them,  and  also  dignity  in  ruling, 
yet  if  his  movements  be  not  in  accordance  with  the  Rules  of 
Propriety,  he  is  not  yet  fully  qualified. 

"  The  superior  man  may  not  be  conversant  with  petty  de- 
tails, and  yet  may  have  important  matters  put  into  his  hands. 
The  inferior  man  may  not  be  charged  with  important  matters, 
yet  may  be  conversant  with  the  petty  details. 

"  Good-fellowship  is  more  to  men  than  fire  and  water.  I 
have  seen  men  stepping  into  fire  and  into  water,  and  meeting 
with  death  thereby ;  I  have  not  yet  seen  a  man  die  from  plant- 
ing his  steps  in  the  path  of  good-fellowship. 

"  Rely  upon  good  nature.  'Twill  not  allow  precedence  even 
to  a  teacher. 

"  The  superior  man  is  inflexibly  upright,  and  takes  not  things 
upon  trust. 

"  In  serving  your  prince,  make  your  service  the  serious  con- 
cefn,  and  let  salary  be  a  secondary  matter. 

"  Where  instruction  is  to  be  given,  there  must  be  no  dis- 
tinction of  persons. 

"  Where  men's  methods  are  not  identical,  there  can  be  no 
planning  by  one  on  behalf  of  another. 

"  In  speaking,  perspicuity  is  all  that  is  needed." 

When  the  blind  music-master  Mien  paid  him  a  visit,  on  his 


74  CONFUCIUS 

approaching  the  steps  the  Master  called  out  "  Steps,"  and  on 
his  coming  to  the  mat,  said  "  Mat."  When  all  in  the  room  were 
seated,  the  Master  told  him  "  So-and-so  is  here,  so-and-so  is 
here." 

When  the  music-master  had  left,  Tsz-chang  said  to  him,  "  Is 
that  the  way  to  speak  to  the  music-master?  "  "  Well,"  he  re- 
plied, "  it  is  certainly  the  way  to  assist  him." 


BOOK  XVI 

Against  Intestine  Strife — Good  and  Bad  Friendships 

THE  Chief  of  the  Ki  family  was  about  to  make  an  on- 
slaught upon  the  Chuen-yu  domain. 

Yen  Yu  and  Tsz-lu  in  an  interview  with  Confucius 
told  him,  "  The  Ki  is  about  to  have  an  afifair  with  Chuen-yu," 

"  Yen,"  said  Confucius,  "  does  not  the  fault  lie  with  you  ? 
The  Chief  of  Chuen-yu  in  times  past  was  appointed  lord  of  the 
East  Mung  (mountain) ;  besides,  he  dwells  within  the  confines 
of  your  own  State,  and  is  an  official  of  the  State-worship ;  how 
can  you  think  of  making  an  onslaught  upon  him?  " 

"  It  is  the  wish  of  our  Chief,"  said  Yen  Yu,  "  not  the  wish  of 
either  of  us  ministers." 

Confucius  said,  "'  Yen,  there  is  a  sentence  of  Chau  Jin  which 
runs  thus :  *  Having  made  manifest  their  powers  and  taken 
their  place  in  the  official  list,  when  they  find  themselves  incom- 
petent they  resign ;  if  they  cannot  be  firm  when  danger  threat- 
ens the  government,  nor  lend  support  when  it  is  reeling,  of  what 
use  then  shall  they  be  as  Assistants  ?  ' — Besides,  you  are  wrong 
in  what  you  said.  When  a  rhinoceros  or  tiger  breaks  out  of  its 
cage — when  a  jewel  or  tortoise-shell  ornament  is  damaged  in 
its  casket — whose  fault  is  it?  " 

"  But,"  said  Yen  Yu,  "  so  far  as  Chuen-yu  is  concerned,  it  is 
now  fortified,  and  it  is  close  to  Pi ;  and  if  he  does  not  now  take 
it,  in  another  generation  it  will  certainly  be  a  trouble  to  his  de- 
scendants." 

"  Yen !  "  exclaimed  Confucius,  "  it  is  a  painful  thing  to  a 
superior  man  to  have  to  desist  from  saying,  *  My  wish  is  so- 
and-so,'  and  to  be  obliged  to  make  apologies.  For  my  part, 
I  have  learnt  this — that  rulers  of  States  and  heads  of  Houses 
are  not  greatly  concerned  about  their  small  following,  but 
about  the  want  of  equilibrium  in  it — that  they  do  not  concern 
themselves  about  their  becoming  poor,  but  about  the  best 
75 


76  CONFUCIUS 

means  of  living  quietly  and  contentedly  ;  for  where  equilibrium 
is  preserved  there  will  be  no  poverty,  where  there  is  harmony 
their  following  will  not  be  small,  and  where  there  is  quiet  con- 
tentment there  will  be  no  decline  nor  fall.  Now  if  that  be  the 
case,  it  follows  that  if  men  in  outlying  districts  are  not  submis- 
sive, then  a  reform  in  education  and  morals  will  bring  them  to ; 
and  when  they  have  been  so  won,  then  will  you  render  them 
quiet  and  contented.  At  the  present  time  you  two  are  Assist- 
ants of  your  Chief;  the  people  in  the  outlying  districts  are  not 
submissive,  and  cannot  be  brought  round.  Your  dominion  is 
divided,  prostrate,  dispersed,  cleft  in  pieces,  and  you  as  its 
guardians  are  powerless.  And  plans  are  being  made  for  tak- 
ing up  arms  against  those  who  dwell  within  your  own  State.  I 
am  apprehensive  that  the  sorrow  of  the  Ki  family  is  not  to  lie 
in  Chuen-yu,  but  in  those  within  their  own  screen." 

"  When  the  empire  is  well-ordered,"  said  Confucius,  "  it  is 
from  the  emperor  that  edicts  regarding  ceremonial,  music,  and 
expeditions  to  quell  rebellion  go  forth.  When  it  is  being  ill 
governed,  such  edicts  emanate  from  the  feudal  lords ;  and 
when  the  latter  is  the  case,  it  will  be  strange  if  in  ten  generations 
there  is  not  a  collapse.  If  they  emanate  merely  from  the  high 
officials,  it  will  be  strange  if  the  collapse  do  not  come  in  five 
generations.  When  the  State-edicts  are  in  the  hands  of  the 
subsidiary  ministers,  it  will  be  strange  if  in  three  generations 
there  is  no  collapse. 

"  When  the  empire  is  well-ordered,  government  is  not  left  in 
the  hands  of  high  officials. 

"  When  the  empire  is  well-ordered,  the  common  people  will 
cease  to  discuss  public  matters." 

"  For  five  generations,"  he  said,  "  the  revenue  has  departed 
from  the  ducal  household.  Four  generations  ago  the  govern- 
ment fell  into  the  hands  of  the  high  officials.  Hence,  alas !  the 
straitened  means  of  the  descendants  of  the  three  Hwan  fam- 
ilies." 

"  There  are,"  said  he,  "  three  kinds  of  friendships  which  are 
profitable,  and  three  which  are  detrimental.  To  make  friends 
with  the  upright,  with  the  trustworthy,  with  the  experienced,  is 
to  gain  benefit ;  to  make  friends  with  the  subtly  perverse,  with 
the  artfully  pliant,  with  the  subtle  in  speech,  is  detrimental." 

Again,  "  There  are  three  kinds  of  pleasure  which  are  profit- 
able, and  three  which  are  detrimental.     To  take  pleasure  in  go- 


THE   ANALECTS  77 

ing  regularly  through  the  various  branches  of  Ceremonial  and 
Music,  in  speaking  of  others'  goodness,  in  having  many  worthy 
wise  friends,  is  profitable.  To  take  pleasure  in  wild  bold  pleas- 
ures, in  idling  carelessly  about,  in  the  too  jovial  accompani- 
ments of  feasting,  is  detrimental." 

Again,  "  Three  errors  there  be,  into  which  they  who  wait 
upon  their  superior  may  fall : — (i)  to  speak  before  the  opportu- 
nity comes  to  them  to  speak,  which  I  call  heedless  haste  ;  (2)  re- 
fraining from  speaking  when  the  opportunity  has  come,  which 
I  call  concealment ;  and  (3)  speaking,  regardless  of  the  mood 
he  is  in,  which  I  call  blindness." 

Again,  "  Three  things  a  superior  should  guard  against : — (i) 
against  the  lusts  of  the  flesh  in  his  earlier  years  while  the  vital 
powers  are  not  fully  developed  and  fixed  ;  (2)  against  the  spirit 
of  combativeness  when  he  has  come  to  the  age  of  robust  man- 
hood and  when  the  vital  powers  are  matured  and  strong,  and  (3) 
against  ambitiousness  when  old  age  has  come  on  and  the  vital 
powers  have  become  weak  and  decayed." 

"Three  things  also  such  a  man  greatly  reveres: — (i)  the 
ordinances  of  Heaven,  (2)  great  men,  (3)  words  of  sages.  The 
inferior  man  knows  not  the  ordinances  of  Heaven  and  there- 
fore reveres  them  not,  is  unduly  familiar  in  the  presence  of  great 
men,  and  scofTs  at  the  words  of  sages." 

"  They  v/hose  knowledge  comes  by  birth  are  of  all  men  the 
first  in  understanding;  they  to  whom  it  comes  by  study  are 
next ;  men  of  poor  intellectual  capacity,  who  yet  study,  may  be 
added  as  a  yet  inferior  class  ;  and  lowest  of  all  are  they  who  are 
poor  in  intellect  and  never  learn." 

"  Nine  things  there  are  of  which  the  superior  man  should  be 
mindful : — to  be  clear  in  vision,  quick  in  hearing,  genial  in  ex- 
pression, respectful  in  demeanor,  true  in  word,  serious  in  duty, 
inquiring  in  doubt,  firmly  self-controlled  in  anger,  just  and  fair 
when  the  way  to  success  opens  out  before  him." 

"  Some  have  spoken  of  '  looking  upon  goodness  as  upon 
something  beyond  their  reach,'  and  of  *  looking  upon  evil  as 
like  plunging  one's  hands  into  scalding  Hquid  ' ; — I  have  seen 
the  men,  I  have  heard  the  sayings. 

"  Some,  again,  have  talked  of '  living  in  seclusion  to  work  out 
their  designs,'  and  of '  exercising  themselves  in  righteous  living 
in  order  to  render  their  principles  the  more  effective  ' ; — I  have 
heard  the  sayings,  I  have  not  seen  the  men." 


78  CONFUCIUS 

'  "  Duke  King  of  Ts'i  had  his  thousand  teams  of  four,  yet  on 
the  day  of  his  death  the  people  had  nothing  to  say  of  his  good- 
ness. Peh-I  and  Shuh-Ts'i  starved  at  the  foot  of  Shau-yang, 
and  the  people  make  mention  of  them  to  this  day. 

'  E'en  if  not  wealth  thine  object  be, 
'Tis  all  the  same,  thou'rt  changed  to  me.' 

"  Is  not  this  apropos  in  such  cases  ?  " 

Tsz-k'in  asked  of  Pih-yu,  "  Have  you  heard  anything  else 
peculiar  from  your  father?  " 

"  Not  yet,"  said  he.  "  Once,  though,  he  was  standing  alone 
when  I  was  hurrying  past  him  over  the  vestibule,  and  he  said, 
'Are  you  studying  the  Odes?'  'Not  yet,'  I  replied.  'If 
you  do  not  learn  the  Odes,'  said  he,  '  you  will  not  have  the 
wherewithal  for  conversing.'  I  turned  away  and  studied  the 
Odes.  Another  day,  when  he  was  again  standing  alone  and 
I  was  hurrying  past  across  the  vestibule,  he  said  to  me,  '  Are 
you  learning  the  Rules  of  Propriety  ? '  '  Not  yet,'  I  replied. 
'  If  you  have  not  studied  the  Rules,  you  have  nothing  to  stand 
upon,'  said  he.  I  turned  away  and  studied  the  Rules. — These 
two  things  I  have  heard  from  him." 

Tsz-k'in  turned  away,  and  in  great  glee  exclaimed,  "  I  asked 
one  thing,  and  have  got  three.  I  have  learnt  something  about 
the  Odes,  and  about  the  Rules,  and  moreover  I  have  learnt 
how  the  superior  man  will  turn  away  his  own  son." 

The  wife  of  the  ruler  of  a  State  is  called  by  her  husband 
"  My  helpmeet."  She  speaks  of  herself  as  "  Your  little  hand- 
maiden." The  people  of  that  State  call  her  "  The  prince's  help- 
meet," but  addressing  persons  of  another  State  they  speak  of 
her  as  "  Our  little  princess."  When  persons  of  another  State 
name  her  they  say  also  "  Your  prince's  helpmeet." 


BOOK   XVII 
The  Master  Induced  to  Take  Office— Nature  and  Habit 

YANG  HO  was  desirous  of  having-  an  interview  with  Con- 
fucius, but  on  the  latter's  faihng  to  go  and  see  him,  he 
sent  a  present  of  a  pig  to  his  house.     Confucius  went 
to  return  his  acknowledgments  for  it  at  a  time  when  he  was 
not  at  home.     They  met,  however,  on  the  way. 

He  said  to  Confucius,  "  Come,  I  want  a  word  with  you.  Can 
that  man  be  said  to  have  good-will  towards  his  fellow-men  who 
hugs  and  hides  his  own  precious  gifts  and  allows  his  country  to 
go  on  in  blind  error?  " 

"  He  cannot,"  was  the  reply. 

"  And  can  he  be  said  to  be  wise  who,  with  a  liking  for  taking 
part  in  the  public  service,  is  constantly  letting  slip  his  opportu- 
nities? " 

"  He  cannot,"  was  the  reply  again. 

"  And  the  days  and  months  are  passing ;  and  the  years  do  not 
wait  for  us." 

"  True,"  said  Confucius ;  "  I  will  take  office." 

It  was  a  remark  of  the  IMaster  that  while  "  by  nature  we  ap- 
proximate towards  each  other,  by  experience  we  go  far  asun- 
der." 

Again,  "  Only  the  supremely  wise  and  the  most  deeply  ignor- 
ant do  not  alter." 

The  Master  once,  on  his  arrival  at  Wu-shing,  heard  the 
sound  of  stringed  instruments  and  singing.  His  face  beamed 
with  pleasure,  and  he  said  laughingly,  "  To  kill  a  cock — why 
use  an  ox-knife  ?  " 

Tsz-yu,  the  governor,  replied,  "  In  former  days,  sir,  I  heard 
you  say,  *  Let  the  superior  man  learn  right  principles,  and  he 
will  be  loving  to  other  men  ;  let  the  ordinary  person  learn  right 
principles,  and  he  will  be  easily  managed.'  " 

The  Master  (turning  to  his  disciples)  said,  "  Sirs,  what  he 
says  is  right :  what  I  said  just  now  was  only  in  play." 
79 


8o  CONFUCIUS 

Having  received  an  invitation  from  Kung-shan  Fuh-jau,  who 
was  in  revolt  against  the  government  and  was  holding  to  his 
district  of  Pi,  the  Master  showed  an  inclination  to  go. 

Tsz-lu  was  averse  to  this,  and  said,  "  You  can  never  go,  that 
is  certain ;  how  should  you  feel  you  must  go  to  that  person  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  Master,  "  he  who  has  invited  me  must  surely 
not  have  done  so  without  a  sufficient  reason  !  And  if  it  should 
happen  that  my  services  were  enlisted,  I  might  create  for  him 
another  East  Chow — don't  you  think  so?  " 

Tsz-chang  asked  Confucius  about  the  virtue  of  philanthropy. 
His  answer  was,  "  It  is  the  being  able  to  put  in  practice  five 
qualities,  in  any  place  under  the  sun." 

"  May  I  ask,  please,  what  these  are?  "  said  the  disciple. 

"  They  are,"  he  said,  "  dignity,  indulgence,  faithfulness,  ear- 
nestness, kindness.  If  you  show  dignity  you  will  not  be 
mocked ;  if  you  are  indulgent  you  will  win  the  multitude ;  if 
faithful,  men  will  place  their  trust  in  you ;  if  earnest,  you  will 
do  something  meritorious ;  and  if  kind,  you  will  be  enabled  to 
avail  yourself  amply  of  men's  services." 

Pih  Hih  sent  the  Master  an  invitation,  and  he  showed  an  in- 
clination to  go. 

Tsz-lu  (seeing  this)  said  to  him,  "  In  former  days,  sir,  I  have 
heard  you  say, '  A  superior  man  will  not  enter  the  society  of  one 
who  does  not  that  which  is  good  in  matters  concerning  him- 
self ' ;  and  this  man  is  in  revolt,  with  Chung-mau  in  his  posses- 
sion ;  if  you  go  to  him,  how  will  the  case  stand  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Master,  "  those  are  indeed  my  words ;  but  is 
it  not  said,  '  What  is  hard  may  be  rubbed  without  being  made 
thin,'  and  '  White  may  be  stained  without  being  made  black  '? 
— I  am  surely  not  a  gourd !  How  am  I  to  be  strung  up  like 
that  kind  of  thing — and  live  wtihout  means?  " 

"  Tsz-lu,"  said  the  Master,  "  you  have  heard  of  the  six  words 
with  their  six  obfuscations?  " 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  not  so  far." 

"  Sit  down,  and  I  will  tell  you  them.  They  are  these  six 
virtues,  cared  for  without  care  for  any  study  about  them : — 
philanthropy,  wisdom,  faithfulness,  straightforwardness,  cour- 
age, firmness.  And  the  six  obfuscations  resulting  from  not 
liking  to  learn  about  them  are,  respectively,  these: — fatuity, 
mental  dissipation,  mischievousness,  perversity,  insubordina- 
tion, impetuosity." 


THE  ANALECTS  8i 

"  My  children,"  said  he  once,  "  why  does  no  one  of  you  study 
the  Odes? — They  are  adapted  to  rouse  the  mind,  to  assist 
observation,  to  make  people  sociable,  to  arouse  virtuous  indig- 
nation. They  speak  of  duties  near  and  far — the  duty  of  minis- 
tering to  a  parent,  the  duty  of  serving  one's  prince ;  and  it  is 
from  them  that  one  becomes  conversant  with  the  names  of 
many  birds,  and  beasts,  and  plants,  and  trees." 

To  his  son  Pih-yu  he  said,  "  Study  you  the  Odes  of  Chow 
and  the  South,  and  those  of  Shau  and  the  South.  The  man 
who  studies  not  these  is,  I  should  say,  somewhat  in  the  position 
of  one  who  stands  facing  a  wall !  " 

"  '  Etiquette  demands  it.'  '  Etiquette  demands  it,'  so  people 
plead,"  said  he ;  "  but  do  not  these  hankerings  after  jewels  and 
silks  indeed  demand  it  ?  Or  it  is, '  The  study  of  Music  requires 
it ' — '  Music  requires  it ' ;  but  do  not  these  predilections  for 
bells  and  drums  require  it?" 

Again,  "  They  who  assume  an  outward  appearance  of  sever- 
ity, being  inwardly  weak,  may  be  likened  to  low  common  men  ; 
nay,  are  they  not  somewhat  like  thieves  that  break  through 
walls  and  steal?  " 

Again,  "  The  plebeian  kind  of  respect  for  piety  is  the  very 
pest  of  virtue." 

Again,  "  Listening  on  the  road,  and  repeating  in  the  lane — 
this  is  abandonment  of  virtue." 

"  Ah,  the  low-minded  creatures !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  How  is 
it  possible  indeed  to  serve  one's  prince  in  their  company?  Be- 
fore they  have  got  what  they  wanted  they  are  all  anxiety  to  get 
it,  and  after  they  have  got  it  they  are  all  anxiety  lest  they  should 
lose  it ;  and  while  they  are  thus  full  of  concern  lest  they  should 
lose  it,  there  is  no  length  to  which  they  will  not  go." 

Again,  "  In  olden  times  people  had  three  moral  infirmities ; 
which,  it  may  be,  are  now  unknown.  Ambitiousness  in  those 
olden  days  showed  itself  in  momentary  outburst ;  the  ambi- 
tiousness of  to-day  runs  riot.  Austerity  in  those  days  had  its 
sharp  angles  ;  in  these  it  is  irritable  and  perverse.  Feebleness 
of  intellect  then  was  at  least  straightforward ;  in  our  day  it  is 
never  aught  but  deceitful." 

Again,  "  Rarely  do  we  find  mutual  good  feeling  where  there 
is  fine  speech  and  studied  mien." 

Again,  "  To  me  it  is  abhorrent  that  purple  color  should  be 
made  to  detract  from  that  of  vermilion.  Also  that  the  Odes 
Vol.  IV.— 6 


82  CONFUCIUS 

of  Ch'ing  should  be  allowed  to  introduce  discord  in  connec- 
tion with  the  music  of  the  Festal  Songs  and  Hymns.  Also  that 
sharp-whetted  tongues  should  be  permitted  to  subvert  govern- 
ments." 

Once  said  he,  "  Would  that  I  could  dispense  with  speech !  " 

"  Sir,"  said  Tsz-kung,  "  if  you  were  never  to  speak,  what 
should  your  pupils  have  to  hand  down  from  you  ?  " 

"  Does  Heaven  ever  speak  ?  "  said  the  Master.  *'  The  four 
seasons  come  and  go,  and  all  creatures  live  and  grow.  Does 
Heaven  indeed  speak  ?  " 

Once  Ju  Pi  desired  an  interview  with  Confucius,  from  which 
the  latter  excused  himself  on  the  score  of  ill-health ;  but  while 
the  attendant  was  passing  out  through  the  doorway  with  the 
message  he  took  his  lute  and  sang,  in  such  a  way  as  to  let  him 
hear  him. 

Tsai  Wo  questioned  him  respecting  the  three  years'  mourn- 
ing, saying  that  one  full  twelve-month  was  a  long  time — that,  if 
gentlemen  were  for  three  years  to  cease  from  observing  rules  of 
propriety,  propriety  must  certainly  sufifer,  and  that  if  for  three 
years  they  neglected  music,  music  must  certainly  die  out — and 
that  seeing  nature  has  taught  us  that  when  the  old  year's  grain 
is  finished  the  new  has  sprung  up  for  us — seeing  also  that  all 
the  changes  ^^  in  procuring  fire  by  friction  have  been  gone 
through  in  the  four  seasons — surely  a  twelve-month  might  suf- 
fice. 

The  Master  asked  him,  "  Would  it  be  a  satisfaction  to  you — 
that  returning  to  better  food,  that  putting  on  of  fine  clothes?  " 

"  It  would,"  said  he. 

"  Then  if  you  can  be  satisfied  in  so  doing,  do  so.  But  to  a 
gentleman,  who  is  in  mourning  for  a  parent,  the  choicest  food 
will  not  be  palatable,  nor  will  the  listening  to  music  be  pleasant, 
nor  will  comforts  of  home  make  him  happy  in  mind.  Hence  he 
does  not  do  as  you  suggest.  But  if  you  are  now  happy  in  your 
mind,  then  do  so." 

Tsai  Wo  went  out.  And  the  Master  went  on  to  say,  "  It  is 
want  of  human  feeling  in  this  man.  After  a  child  has  lived  three 
years  it  then  breaks  away  from  the  tender  nursing  of  its  parents. 
And  this  three  years'  mourning  is  the  customary  mourning 
prevalent  all  over  the  empire.  Can  this  man  have  enjoyed  the 
three  years  of  loving  care  from  his  parents  ?  " 

"  Different  woods   were  adopted   for  this  purpose  at  the  various  seasons. 


THE   ANALECTS  83 

"  Ah,  it  is  difficult,"  said  he,  "  to  know  what  to  make  of  those 
who  are  all  day  long  cramming  themselves  with  food  and  arc 
without  anything  to  apply  their  minds  to !  Are  there  no  dice 
and  chess  players  ?  Better,  perhaps,  join  in  that  pursuit  than 
do  nothing  at  all !  " 

"  Does  a  gentleman,"  asked  Tsz-lu,  "  make  much  account  of 
bravery  ?  " 

"  Righteousness  he  counts  higher,"  said  the  Master.  "  A 
gentleman  who  is  brave  without  being  just  may  become  turbu- 
lent; while  a  common  person  who  is  brave  and  not  just  may 
end  in  becoming  a  highwayman." 

Tsz-kung  asked,  "  I  suppose  a  gentleman  will  have  his  aver- 
sions as  well  as  his  likings  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  Master,  "  he  will  dislike  those  who  talk 
much  about  other  people's  ill-deeds.  He  will  dislike  those  who, 
when  occupying  inferior  places,  utter  defamatory  words  against 
their  superiors.  He  will  dislike  those  who,  though  they  may 
be  brave,  have  no  regard  for  propriety.  And  he  will  dislike 
those  hastily  decisive  and  venturesome  spirits  who  are  never- 
theless so  hampered  by  limited  intellect." 

"  And  you,  too,  Tsz-kung,"  he  continued,  "  have  your  aver- 
sions, have  you  not  ?  " 

"  I  dislike,"  said  he,  "  those  plagiarists  who  wish  to  pass  for 
wise  persons.  I  dislike  those  people  who  wish  their  lack  of 
humility  to  be  taken  for  bravery.  I  dislike  also  those  divulgers 
of  secrets  who  think  to  be  accounted  straightforward." 

"  Of  all  others,"  said  the  Master,  "  women-servants  and  men- 
servants  are  the  most  difficult  people  to  have  the  care  of.  Ap- 
proach them  in  a  familiar  manner,  and  they  take  liberties ;  keep 
them  at  a  distance,  and  they  grumble." 

Again,  "  When  a  man  meets  with  odium  at  forty,  he  will  do 
so  to  the  end." 


BOOK   XVIII 
Good  Men  in  Seclusion— Duke  of  Chow  to  His  Son 

"  TN  the  reign  of  the  last  king  of  the  Yin  dynasty,"  Confucius 

I  said,  "  there  were  three  men  of  philanthropic  spirit : — 
the  viscount  of  Wei,  who  withdrew  from  him ;  the  vis- 
count of  Ki,  who  became  his  bondsman ;  and  Pi-kan,  who  re- 
proved him  and  sufifered  death." 

"  Hwui  of  Liu-hia,  who  filled  the  office  of  Chief  Crimina\ 
Judge,  was  thrice  dismissed.  A  person  remarked  to  him,  "  Can 
you  not  yet  bear  to  withdraw  ?  "  He  replied,  "  If  I  act  in  a 
straightforward  way  in  serving  men,  whither  in  these  days 
should  I  go,  where  I  should  not  be  thrice  dismissed  ?  Were  I 
to  adopt  crooked  ways  in  their  service,  why  need  I  leave  the 
land  where  my  parents  dwell  ?  " 

Duke  King  of  Ts'i  remarked  respecting  his  attitude  towards 
Confucius,  "  If  he  is  to  be  treated  like  the  Chief  of  the  Ki  family, 
I  cannot  do  it.  I  should  treat  him  as  somewhere  between  the 
Ki  and  Mang  Chiefs. — I  am  old,"  he  added,  "  and  not  com- 
petent to  avail  myself  of  him." 

Confucius,  hearing  of  this,  went  away. 

The  Ts'i  officials  presented  to  the  Court  of  Lu  a  number  of 
female  musicians.  Ki  Hwan  accepted  them,  and  for  three  days 
no  Court  was  held. 

Confucius  went  away. 

Tsieh-yu,  the  madman ^^  of  Ts'u,  was  once  passing  Confu- 
cius, singing  as  he  went  along.     He  sang — 

"  Ha,  the  phoenix  !  Ha,  the  phoenix! 
How  is  Virtue  lying  prone  ! 
Vain  to  chide  for  what  is  o'er, 
Plan  to  meet  what's  yet  in  store. 
Let  alone  !  Let  alone  ! 
Risky  now  to  serve  a  throne. " 

3'  He  only  pretended  to  be  mad,  in  order  to  escape  being  employed  in  the  public 
service. 

84 


THE  ANALECTS  85 

Confucius  alighted,  wishing  to  enter  into  conversation  with 
him  ;  but  the  man  hurried  along  and  left  him,  and  he  was  there- 
fore unable  to  get  a  word  with  him. 

Ch'ang-tsii  and  Kieh-nih^''  were  working  together  on  some 
ploughed  land.  Confucius  was  passing  by  them,  and  sent  Tsz- 
lu  to  ask  where  the  ford  was. 

Ch'ang-tsii  said,  "  Who  is  the  person  driving  the  carriage  ?  " 

"  Confucius,"  answered  Tsz-lu. 

"  He  of  Lu  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  The  same,"  said  Tsz-lu. 

"  He  knows  then  where  the  ford  is,"  said  he. 

Tsz-lu  then  put  his  question  to  Kieh-nih ;  and  the  latter 
asked,  "  Who  are  you  ?  " 

Tsz-lu  gave  his  name. 

"  You  are  a  follower  of  Confucius  of  Lu,  are  you  not  ?  " 

"  You  are  right,"  he  answered. 

"  Ah,  as  these  waters  rise  and  overflow  their  bounds,"  said 
he,  "  'tis  so  with  all  throughout  the  empire ;  and  who  is  he  that 
can  alter  the  state  of  things?  And  you  are  a  follower  of  a 
learned  man  who  withdraws  from  his  chief ;  had  you  not  better 
be  a  follower  of  such  as  have  forsaken  the  world  ?  "  And  he 
went  on  with  his  harrowing,  without  stopping. 

Tsz-lu  went  and  informed  his  Master  of  all  this.  He  was 
deeply  touched,  and  said,  "  One  cannot  herd  on  equal  terms 
with  beasts  and  birds :  if  I  am  not  to  live  among  these  human 
folk,  then  with  whom  else  should  I  live  ?  Only  when  the  em- 
pire is  well  ordered  shall  I  cease  to  take  part  in  the  work  of 
reformation." 

Tsz-lu  was  following  the  Master,  but  had  dropped  behind  on 
the  way,  when  he  encountered  an  old  man  with  a  weed-basket 
slung  on  a  staflf  over  his  shoulder.  Tsz-lu  inquired  of  him, 
"  Have  you  seen  my  Master,  sir?  "  Said  the  old  man,  "  Who 
is  your  master? — you  who  never  employ  your  four  limbs  in 
laborious  work  ;  you  who  do  not  know  one  from  another  of  the 
five  sorts  of  grain  !  "  And  he  stuck  his  staff  in  the  ground,  and 
began  his  weeding. 

Tsz-lu  brought  his  hands  together  on  his  breast  and  stood 
still. 

The  old  man  kept  Tsz-lu  and  lodged  him  for  the  night,  killed 

**  Two  worthies  who  had  abandoned   public  life,   owing  to  the   state  of  the 
times. 


86  CONFUCIUS 

a  fowl  and  prepared  some  millet,  entertained  him,  and  brought 
his  two  sons  out  to  see  him. 

On  the  morrow  Tsz-lu  went  on  his  way,  and  told  all  this  to  the 
Master,  who  said,  "  He  is  a  recluse,"  and  sent  Tsz-lu  back  to 
see  him  again.     But  by  the  time  he  got  there  he  was  gone. 

Tsz-lu  remarked  upon  this,  "  It  is  not  right  he  should  evade 
official  duties.  If  he  cannot  allow  any  neglect  of  the  terms  on 
which  elders  and  juniors  should  live  together,  how  is  it  that  he 
neglects  to  conform  to  what  is  proper  as  between  prince  and 
public  servant?  He  wishes  for  himself  personally  a  pure  life, 
yet  creates  disorder  in  that  more  important  relationship.  When 
a  gentleman  undertakes  public  work,  he  will  carry  out  the 
duties  proper  to  it ;  and  he  knows  beforehand  that  right  princi- 
ples may  not  win  their  way." 

Among  those  who  have  retired  from  public  life  have  been 
Peh-I  and  Shuh-Ts'i,  Yu-chung,  I-yih,  Chu-chang,  Hwui  of 
Liuhia,  and  Shau-lien. 

"  Of  these,"  said  the  Master,  "  Peh-I  and  Shuh-Ts'i  may  be 
characterized,  I  should  say,  as  men  who  never  declined  from 
their  high  resolve  nor  soiled  themselves  by  aught  of  disgrace. 

"  Of  Hwui  of  Liu-hia  and  Shau-lien,  if  one  may  say  that  they 
did  decline  from  high  resolve,  and  that  they  did  bring  disgrace 
upon  themselves,  yet  their  words  were  consonant  with  estab- 
lished principles,  and  their  action  consonant  with  men's 
thoughts  and  wishes ;  and  this  is  all  that  may  be  said  of  them, 

"  Of  Yu-chung  and  I-yih,  if  it  be  said  that  when  they  retired 
into  privacy  they  let  loose  their  tongues,  yet  in  their  aim  at 
personal  purity  of  life  they  succeeded,  and  their  defection  was 
also  successful  in  its  influence. 

"  My  own  rule  is  different  from  any  adopted  by  these :  I  will 
take  no  liberties,  I  will  have  no  curtailing  of  my  liberty." 

The  chief  music-master  went  ofif  to  Ts'i.  Kan,  the  conduc- 
tor of  the  music  at  the  second  repast,  went  over  to  Ts'u.  Liau, 
conductor  at  the  third  repast,  went  over  to  Ts'ai.  And  Kiueh, 
who  conducted  at  the  fourth,  went  to  Ts'in. 

Fang-shuh,  the  drummer,  withdrew  into  the  neighborhood  of 
the  Ho.  Wu  the  tambourer  went  to  the  Han.  And  Yang  the 
junior  music-master,  and  Siang  who  played  on  the  musical 
stone,  went  to  the  sea-coast. 

Anciently  the  Duke  of  Chow,  addressing  his  son  the  Duke  of 
Lu,  said,  "  A  good  man  in  high  place  is  not  indifferent  about 


THE   ANALECTS  ^7 

the  members  of  his  own  family,  and  does  not  give  occasion  to 
the  chief  ministers  to  complain  that  they  are  not  employed ; 
nor  without  great  cause  will  he  set  aside  old  friendships ;  nor 
does  he  seek  for  full  equipment  for  every  kind  of  service  in  any 
single  man." 

There  were  once  eight  officials  during  this  Chow  dynasty, 
who  were  four  pairs  of  twins,  all  brothers — the  eldest  pair  Tab 
and  Kwoh,  the  next  Tub  and  Hwuh,  the  third  Ye  and  Hia,  the 
youngest  Sui  and  Kwa. 


T 


BOOK  XIX 

Teachings  of  Various  Chief  Disciples 

HE  learned  ofificial,"  said  Tsz-chang,  "  who  when  he 


he  sees  a  chance  of  success  is  mindful  of  what  is  just 
and  proper,  who  in  his  religious  acts  is  mindful  of  the  duty  of 
reverence,  and  when  in  mourning  thinks  of  his  loss,  is  indeed  a 
fit  and  proper  person  for  his  place." 

Again  he  said,  "  If  a  person  hold  to  virtue  but  never  advance 
in  it,  and  if  he  have  faith  in  right  principles  and  do  not  build 
himself  up  in  them,  how  can  he  be  regarded  either  as  having 
such,  or  as  being  without  them  ?  " 

Tsz-hia's  disciples  asked  Tsz-chang  his  views  about  inter- 
course with  others.  "  What  says  your  Master?  "  he  rejoined. 
"  He  says,"  they  replied,  "  '  Associate  with  those  who  are  quali- 
fied, and  repel  from  you  such  as  are  not.'  "  Tsz-chang  then 
said,  "  That  is  different  from  what  I  have  learnt.  A  superior 
man  esteems  the  worthy  and  wise,  and  bears  with  all.  He 
makes  much  of  the  good  and  capable,  and  pities  the  incapable. 
Am  I  eminently  worthy  and  wise? — who  is  there  then  among 
men  whom  I  will  not  bear  with  ?  Am  I  not  worthy  and  wise  ? — 
others  will  be  minded  to  repel  me :  I  have  nothing  to  do  with 
repelling  them." 

Sayings  of  Tsz-hia : — 

"  Even  in  inferior  pursuits  there  must  be  something  worthy 
of  contemplation,  but  if  carried  to  an  extreme  there  is  danger 
of  fanaticism;  hence  the  superior  man  does  not  engage  in 
them. 

"  The  student  who  daily  recognizes  how  much  he  yet  lacks, 
and  as  the  months  pass  forgets  not  what  he  has  succeeded  in 
learning,  may  undoubtedly  be  called  a  lover  of  learning. 

"  Wide  research  and  steadfast  purpose,  eager  questioning 
and  close  reflection — all  this  tends  to  humanize  a  man. 


THE   ANALECTS  89 

"  As  workmen  spend  their  time  in  their  workshops  for  the 
perfecting  of  their  work,  so  superior  men  apply  their  minds  to 
study  in  order  to  make  themselves  thoroughly  conversant  with 
their  subjects. 

"  When  an  inferior  man  does  a  wrong  thing,  he  is  sure  to 
gloss  it  over. 

"  The  superior  man  is  seen  in  three  dififerent  aspects : — look 
at  him  from  a  distance,  he  is  imposing  in  appearance ;  approach 
him,  he  is  gentle  and  warm-hearted;  hear  him  speak,  he  is 
acute  and  strict. 

"  Let  such  a  man  have  the  people's  confidence,  and  he  will 
get  much  work  out  of  them ;  so  long,  however,  as  he  does  not 
possess  their  confidence  they  will  regard  him  as  grinding  them 
down. 

"  When  confidence  is  reposed  in  him,  he  may  then  with  im- 
punity administer  reproof;  so  long  as  it  is  not,  he  will  be  re- 
garded as  a  detractor. 

"  Where  there  is  no  over-stepping  of  barriers  in  the  practice 
of  the  higher  virtues,  there  may  be  freedom  to  pass  in  and  out 
in  the  practice  of  the  lower  ones." 

Tsz-yu  had  said,  "  The  pupils  in  the  school  of  Tsz-hia  are 
good  enough  at  such  things  as  sprinkling  and  scrubbing  floors, 
answering  calls  and  replying  to  questions  from  superiors,  and 
advancing  and  retiring  to  and  from  such ;  but  these  things  are 
only  offshoots — as  to  the  root  of  things  they  are  nowhere. 
What  is  the  use  of  all  that  ?  " 

When  this  came  to  the  ears  of  Tsz-hia,  he  said,  "  Ah !  there 
he  is  mistaken.  What  does  a  master,  in  his  methods  of  teach- 
ing, consider  first  in  his  precepts  ?  And  what  does  he  account 
next,  as  that  about  which  he  may  be  indifferent  ?  It  is  like  as 
in  the  study  of  plants — classification  by  differentia:.  How  may 
a  master  play  fast  and  loose  in  his  methods  of  instruction? 
Would  they  not  indeed  be  sages,  who  could  take  in  at  once  the 
first  principles  and  the  final  developments  of  things?  "  . 

Further  observations  of  Tsz-hia : — 

"  In  the  public  service  devote  what  energy  and  time  remain 
to  study.  After  study  devote  what  energy  and  time  remain  to 
the  public  service. 

"  As  to  the  duties  of  mourning,  let  them  cease  when  the  grief 
is  past. 

"  My  friend  Tsz-chang,  althou,q;h  he  has  the  ability  to  tackle 
hard  things,  has  not  yet  the  virtue  of  philanthropy." 


90 


CONFUCIUS 


The  learned  Tsang  observed,  "  How  loftily  Tsz-chang  bears 
himself!  Difficult  indeed  along  with  him  to  practise  philan- 
thropy !  " 

Again  he  said,  "  I  have  heard  this  said  by  the  Master,  that 
'  though  men  may  not  exert  themselves  to  the  utmost  in  other 
duties,  yet  surely  in  the  duty  of  mourning  for  their  parents  they 
will  do  so  ! '  " 

Again,  "  This  also  I  have  heard  said  by  the  Master:  '  The 
filial  piety  of  Mang  Chwang  in  other  respects  might  be  equalled, 
but  as  manifested  in  his  making  no  changes  among  his  father's 
ministers,  nor  in  his  father's  mode  of  government — that  aspect 
of  it  could  not  easily  be  equalled.'  " 

Yang  Fu,  having  been  made  senior  Criminal  Judge  by  the 
Chief  of  the  Mang  clan,  consulted  with  the  learned  Tsang. 
The  latter  advised  him  as  follows :  "  For  a  long  time  the  Chiefs 
have  failed  in  their  government,  and  the  people  have  become 
unsettled.  When  you  arrive  at  the  facts  of  their  cases,  do  not 
rejoice  at  your  success  in  that,  but  rather  be  sorry  for  them, 
and  have  pity  upon  them." 

Tsz-kung  once  observed,  "  We  speak  of  *  the  iniquity  of 
Chau  ' — but  'twas  not  so  great  as  this."  And  so  it  is  that  the 
superior  man  is  averse  from  settling  in  this  sink,  into  which 
everything  runs  that  is  foul  in  the  empire." 

Again  he  said,  "  Faults  in  a  superior  man  are  Hke  eclipses  of 
the  sun  or  moon :  when  he  is  guilty  of  a  trespass  men  all  see  it ; 
and  when  he  is  himself  again,  all  look  up  to  him." 

Kung-sun  Ch'au  of  Wei  inquired  of  Tsz-kung  how  Confucius 
acquired  his  learning. 

Tsz-kung  replied,  "  The  teachings  of  Wan  and  Wu  have  not 
yet  fallen  to  the  ground.  They  exist  in  men.  Worthy  and 
wise  men  have  the  more  important  of  these  stored  up  in  their 
minds ;  and  others,  who  are  not  such,  store  up  the  less  impor- 
tant of  them ;  and  as  no  one  is  thus  without  the  teachings  of 
Wan  and  Wu,  how  should  our  Master  not  have  learned  ?  And 
moreover  what  permanent  preceptor  could  he  have?  " 

Shuh-sun  Wu-shuh,  addressing  the  high  officials  at  the 
Court,  remarked  that  Tsz-kung  was  a  greater  worthy  than  Con- 
fucius. 

Tsz-fuh  King-pih  went  and  informed  Tsz-kung  of  this  re- 
mark. 

Tsz-kung  said,  "  Take  by  way  of  comparison  the  walls  out- 


THE   ANALECTS 


9' 


side  our  houses.  My  wall  is  shoulder-high,  and  you  may  look 
over  it  and  see  what  the  house  and  its  contents  are  worth.  My 
Master's  wall  is  tens  of  feet  high,  and  unless  you  should  efiect 
an  entrance  by  the  door,  you  would  fail  to  behold  the  beauty  of 
the  ancestral  hall  and  the  rich  array  of  all  its  offi'cers.  And 
they  who  effect  an  entrance  by  the  door,  methinks,  are  few ! 
Was  it  not,  however,  just  like  him — that  remark  of  the  Chief?  " 

Shuh-sun  Wu-shuh  had  been  casting  a  slur  on  the  character 
of  Confucius. 

"  No  use  doing  that,"  said  Tsz-kung;  "  he  is  irreproachable. 
The  wisdom  and  worth  of  other  men  are  little  hills  and  mounds 
of  earth  :  traversible.  He  is  the  sun,  or  the  moon,  impossible  to 
reach  and  pass.  And  what  harm,  I  ask,  can  a  man  do  to  the 
sun  or  the  moon,  by  wishing  to  intercept  himself  from  either? 
It  all  shows  that  he  knows  not  how  to  gauge  capacity." 

Tsz-k'in,  addressing  Tsz-kung,  said,  "  You  depreciate  your- 
self.    Confucius  is  surely  not  a  greater  worthy  than  yourself." 

Tsz-kung  replied,  "  In  the  use  of  words  one  ought  never  to 
be  incautious  ;  because  a  gentleman  for  one  single  utterance  of 
his  is  apt  to  be  considered  a  wise  man,  and  for  a  single  utterance 
may  be  accounted  unwise.  No  more  might  one  think  of  attain- 
ing to  the  Master's  perfections  than  think  of  going  upstairs  to 
Heaven !  Were  it  ever  his  fortune  to  be  at  the  head  of  the 
government  of  a  country,  then  that  which  is  spoken  of  as  'es- 
tablishing the  country '  would  be  establishment  indeed ;  he 
would  be  its  guide  and  it  would  follow  him,  he  would  tran- 
quillize it  and  it  would  render  its  willing  homage :  he  would 
give  forward  impulses  to  it  to  which  it  would  harmoniously 
respond.  In  his  life  he  would  be  its  glory,  at  his  death  there 
would  be  great  lamentation.  How  indeed  could  such  as  he  be 
equalled?  " 


BOOK  XX 

Extracts  from  the  Book  of  History 

THE  Emperor  Yau  said  to  Shun,  "  Ah,  upon  you,  upon 
your  person,  Hes  the  Heaven-appointed  order  of  suc- 
cession !  Faithfully  hold  to  it,  without  any  deflection ; 
for  if  within  the  four  seas  necessity  and  want  befall  the  people, 
your  own  revenue  will  forever  come  to  an  end." 

Shun  also  used  the  same  language  in  handing  down  the  ap- 
pointment to  Yu. 

The  Emperor  T'ang  in  his  prayer,  said,  "  I,  the  child  Li,  pre- 
sume to  avail  me  of  an  ox  of  dusky  hue,  and  presume  to  mani- 
festly announce  to  Thee,  O  God,  the  most  high  and  Sovereign 
Potentate,  that  to  the  transgressor  I  dare  not  grant  forgiveness, 
nor  yet  keep  in  abeyance  Thy  ministers.  Judgment  rests  in 
Thine  heart,  O  God.  Should  we  ourself  transgress,  may  the 
guilt  not  be  visited  everywhere  upon  all.  Should  the  people 
all  transgress,  be  the  guilt  upon  ourself !  " 

Chow  possessed  great  gifts,  by  which  the  able  and  good 
were  richly  endowed. 

"  Although,"  said  King  Wu,  "  he  is  surrounded  by  his  near 
relatives,  they  are  not  to  be  compared  with  men  of  humane 
spirit.  The  people  are  suffering  wrongs,  and  the  remedy  rests 
with  me — the  one  man." 

After  Wu  had  given  diligent  attention  to  the  various  weights 
and  measures,  examined  the  laws  and  regulations,  and  re- 
stored the  degraded  of^cials,  good  government  everywhere 
ensued. 

He  caused  ruined  States  to  flourish  again,  reinstated  inter- 
cepted heirs,  and  promoted  to  of^ce  men  who  had  gone  into  re- 
tirement ;  and  the  hearts  of  the  people  throughout  the  em^pire 
drew  towards  him. 

Among  matters  of  prime  consideration  with  him  were  these — 
food  for  the  people,  the  duty  of  mourning,  and  sacrificial  offer- 
ings to  the  departed. 

He  was  liberal  and  laige-hearted,  and  so  won  all  hearts  ;  true, 
92 


THE   ANALECTS  93 

and  so  was  trusted  by  the  people ;  energetic,  and  thus  became  a 
man  of  great  achievements;  just  in  his  rule,  and  all  were  well 
content.  \ 

Tsz-chang  in  a  conversation  with  Confucius  asked,  "  What 
say  you  is  essential  for  the  proper  conduct  of  government  ?  " 

The  Master  replied,  ''  Let  the  ruler  hold  in  high  estimation 
the  five  excellences,  and  eschew  the  four  evils;  then  may  he 
conduct  his  government  properly." 

"  And  what  call  you  the  five  excellences  ?  "  he  was  asked. 

"  They  are,"  he  said,  "  Bounty  without  extravagance ;  bur- 
dening without  exciting  discontent;  desire  without  covetous- 
ness ;  dignity  without  haughtiness ;  show  of  majesty  without 
fierceness." 

"  What  mean  you,"  asked  Tsz-chang,  "  by  bounty  without 
extravagance  ?  " 

"  Is  it  not  this,"  he  replied — "  to  make  that  which  is  of  benefit 
to  the  people  still  more  beneficial?.  When  he  selects  for  them 
such  labors  as  it  is  possible  for  them  to  do,  and  exacts  them, 
who  will  then  complain  ?  So  when  his  desire  is  the  virtue  of 
humaneness,  and  he  attains  it,  how  shall  he  then  be  covetous? 
And  if — whether  he  have  to  do  with  few  or  with  many,  with 
small  or  with  great — he  do  not  venture  ever  to  be  careless,  is 
not  this  also  to  have  dignity  without  haughtiness?  And  if — 
when  properly  vested  in  robe  and  cap,  and  showing  dignity  in 
his  every  look — his  appearance  be  so  imposing  that  the  people 
look  up  to  and  stand  in  awe  of  him,  is  not  this  moreover  to 
show  majesty  without  fierceness?  " 

"  What,  then,  do  you  call  the  four  evils?  "  said  Tsz-chang. 

The  answer  here  was,  "  Omitting  to  instruct  the  people  and 
then  inflicting  capital  punishment  on  them — which  means  cruel 
tyranny.  Omitting  to  give  them  warning  and  yet  looking  for 
perfection  in  them — which  means  oppression.  Being  slow  and 
late  in  issuing  requisitions,  and  exacting  strict  punctuality  in 
the  returns — which  means  robbery.  And  likewise,  in  inter- 
course with  men,  to  expend  and  to  receive  in  a  stingy  manner — 
which  is  to  act  the  part  of  a  mere  commissioner." 

"  None  can  be  a  superior  man,"  said  the  Master,  "  who  does 
not  recognize  the  decrees  of  Heaven. 

"  None  can  have  stability  in  him  without  a  knowledge  of  the 
proprieties. 

"  None  can  know  a  man  without  knowing  his  utterances." 


THE    SAYINGS    OF     MENCIUS 

[Translated  into  English  by  James  Legge] 


INTRODUCTION 

A  HUNDRED  years  after  the  time  of  Confucius  the 
Chinese  nation  seemed  to  have  fallen  back  into  their 
original  condition  of  lawlessness  and  oppression.  The 
King's  power  and  authority  was  laughed  to  scorn,  the  peo- 
ple were  pillaged  by  the  feudal  nobility,  and  famine  reigned  in 
many  districts.  The  foundations  of  truth  and  social  order 
seemed  to  be  overthrown.  There  were  teachers  of  immorality 
abroad,  who  published  the  old  Epicurean  doctrine,  "  Let  us  eat 
and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die."  This  teaching  was  accom- 
panied by  a  spirit  of  cold-blooded  egotism  which  extinguished 
every  spark  of  Confucian  altruism.  Even  the  pretended  disci- 
ples of  Confucius  confused  the  precepts  of  the  Master,  and  by 
stripping  them  of  their  narrow  significance  rendered  them  nuga- 
tory. It  was  at  this  point  that  Mang-tsze,  "  Mang  the  philoso- 
pher," arose.  He  was  sturdy  in  bodily  frame,  vigorous  in 
mind,  profound  in  political  sagacity  and  utterly  fearless  in  de- 
nouncing the  errors  of  his  countrymen.  He  had  been  brought 
up  among  the  disciples  of  Confucius,  in  whose  province  he  was 
born  B.C.  yj2,  but  he  was  much  more  active  and  aggressive,  less 
a  Mystic  than  a  fanatic,  in  comparison  vi!  his  Master.  Here- 
solved  on  active  measures  in  stemming  the  tendency  of  his  day. 
He  did  indeed  surround  Iiimself  with  a  school  of  disciples,  but 
instead  of  making  a  series  of  desultory  travels,  teaching  in  re- 
mote places  and  alonq;  the  high-road,  he  went  to  the  heart  of 
the  evil.  He  presented  himself  like  a  second  John  the  Baptist 
at  the  courts  of  kings  and  princes,  and  there  boldly  denounced 
vice  and  misrule.  It  was  not  difficult  for  a  Chinese  scholar  and 
teacher  to  find  access  to  the  highest  of  the  land.  The  Chinese 
believed  in  the  divine  right  of  learning,  just  as  they  believed  in 
the  divine  right  of  kings.  Mang  employed  every  weapon  of 
persuasion  in  trying  to  combat  heresy  and  oppression ;  alter- 
nately ridiculing  and  reproving:  now  appealing  in  a  burst  of 
Vol.  IV.— 7  97 


98  THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS 

moral  enthusiasm,  and  now  denouncing  in  terms  of  cutting 
sarcasm  the  abuses  which  after  all  he  failed  to  check.  The  last 
prince  whom  he  successfully  confronted  was  the  Marquis  of 
Lu,  who  turned  him  carelessly  away.  He  accepted  this  as  the 
Divine  sentence  of  his  failure,  "  That  I  have  not  found  in  this 
marquis,  a  ruler  who  would  hearken  to  me  is  an  intimation  of 
heaven.  Henceforth  he  lived  in  retirement  until  his  ninety- 
seventh  year ;  but  from  his  apparent  failure  sprang  a  practical 
success.  His  written  teachings  are  amongst  the  most  lively 
and  epigrammatic  works  of  Chinese  literature,  have  done  much 
to  keep  alive  amongst  his  countrymen  the  spirit  of  Confucian- 
ism, and  even  Western  readers  may  drink  wisdom  from  this 
spring  of  Oriental  lore.  The  following  selections  from  his 
sayings  well  exhibit  the  spirit  of  his  system  of  philosophy  and 
morality:  E.  W. 


THE   SAYINGS  OF   MENCIUS 

BOOK   I 

KING  HWUY  OF  LEANG 

Part  I 

MENCIUS  went  to  see  King  Hwuy  of  Leang.*  The  king 
said,  "  Venerable  Sir,  since  you  have  not  counted  it 
far  to  come  here  a  distance  of  a  thousand  H,  may  I 
presume  that  you  are  hkewise  provided  with  counsels  to  profit 
my  kingdom  ?  "  Mencius  replied,  "  Why  must  your  Majesty 
used  tha*  word  '  profit '  ?  What  I  am  Hkewise  provided  with 
are  counsels  to  benevolence  and  righteousness ;  and  these  are 
my  only  topics. 

"  If  your  Majesty  say,  *  What  is  to  be  done  to  profit  my 
kingdom  ? '  the  great  ofificers  will  say,  '  What  is  to  be  done  to 
profit  our  families  ?  '  and  the  inferior  officers  and  the  common 
people  will  say,  '  What  is  to  be  done  to  profit  our  persons?  ' 
Superiors  and  inferiors  will  try  to  take  the  profit  the  one 
from  the  other,  and  the  kingdom  will  be  endangered.  In  the 
kingdom  of  ten  thousand  chariots,  the  murderer  of  his  ruler  will 
be  the  chief  of  a  family  of  a  thousand  chariots.  In  the  State 
of  a  thousand  chariots,  the  murderer  of  his  ruler  will  be  the 
chief  of  a  family  of  a  hundred  chariots.  To  have  a  thousand 
in  ten  thousand,  and  a  hundred  in  a  thousand,  cannot  be  re- 
garded as  not  a  large  allowance ;  but  if  righteousness  be  put 
last  and  profit  first,  they  will  not  be  satisfied  without  snatching 
all. 

*  The  title  of  this  book  in  Chinese  is  Book  is  divided  into  two  parts.  This  ar- 
— "  King  Hwuy  of  Leang;  in  chapters  rangement  was  made  by  Chaou  K'e,  and 
and  sentences."  Like  the  Books  of  the  to  him  are  due  also  the  divisions  into  chap- 
Confucian  Analects,  those  of  this  work  ters.  and  sentences,  or  paragraphs,  con- 
are  headed  by  two  or  three  words  at  or  taining,  it  may  be,  many  sentences, 
near  the  commencement  of  them.    Each 

99 


loo  THE  SAYINGS   OF   MENCIUS 

"  There  never  was  a  man  trained  to  benevolence  who  neg- 
lected his  parents.  There  never  was  a  man  trained  to  right- 
eousness who  made  his  ruler  an  after  consideration.  Let  your 
Majesty  likewise  make  benevolence  and  righteousness  your 
only  themes — Why  must  you  speak  of  profit  ?  " 

When  Mencius,  another  day,  was  seeing  King  Hwuy  of 
Leang,  the  King  went  and  stood  with  him  by  a  pond,  and, 
looking  round  on  the  wild  geese  and  deer,  large  and  small, 
said,  "  Do  wise  and  good  princes  also  take  pleasure  in  these 
things?  "  Mencius  replied,  "  Being  wise  and  good,  they  then 
have  pleasure  in  these  things.  If  they  are  not  wise  and  good, 
though  they  have  these  things,  they  do  not  find  pleasure.  "  It 
is  said  in  the  '  Book  of  Poetry  ' : — 

'  When  he  planned  the  commencement  of  the  Marvellous  tower, 
He  planned  it,  and  defined  it, 
And  the  people  in  crowds  undertook  the  work, 
And  in  no  time  completed  it. 

When  he  planned  the  commencement,  he  said,  "  Be  not  in  a  hurry." 
But  the  people  came  as  if  they  were  his  children. 
The  king  was  in  the  Marvellous  park, 
Where  the  does  were  lying  down — 
The  does  so  sleek  and  fat ; 
With  the  white  birds  glistening. 
The  king  was  by  the  Marvellous  pond; — 
How  full  was  it  of  fishes  leaping  about!  * 

King  Wan  used  the  strength  of  the  people  to  make  his  tower 
and  pond,  and  the  people  rejoiced  to  do  the  work,  calling  the 
tower  '  the  Marvellous  Tower,'  and  the  pond  '  the  Marvellous 
Pond,'  and  being  glad  that  he  had  his  deer,  his  fishes  and  tur- 
tles. The  ancients  caused  their  people  to  have  pleasure  as  well 
as  themselves,  and  therefore  they  could  enjoy  it. 

"  In  the  Declaration  of  T'ang  it  is  said,  '  O  Sun,  when  wilt 
thou  expire?  We  will  die  together  with  thee.'  The  people 
wished  for  Keeh's  death,  though  they  should  die  with  him. 
Although  he  had  his  tower,  his  pond,  birds  and  animals,  how 
could  he  have  pleasure  alone  ?  " 

King  Hwuy  of  Leang  said,  "  Small  as  my  virtue  is,  in  the 
government  of  my  kingdom,  I  do  indeed  exert  my  mind  to  the 
utmost.  If  the  year  be  bad  inside  the  Ho,  I  remove  as  many 
of  the  people  as  I  can  to  the  east  of  it,  and  convey  grain  to  the 
country  inside.     If  the  year  be  bad  on  the  east  of  the  river,  I 


THE  SAYINGS   OF  MENCIUS  fM 

act  on  the  same  plan.  On  examining  the  governmental  meth- 
ods of  the  neighboring  kingdoms,  1  do  not  find  there  is  any 
ruler  who  exerts  his  mind  as  I  do.  And  yet  the  people  of  the 
neighboring  kings  do  not  decrease,  nor  do  my  people  increase — 
how  is  this?  " 

Mencius  replied,  "  Your  Majesty  loves  war ;  allow  me  to 
take  an  illustration  from  war.  The  soldiers  move  forward  at 
the  sound  of  the  drum ;  and  when  the  edges  of  their  weapons 
have  been  crossed,  on  one  side,  they  throw  away  their  buff 
coats,  trail  their  weapons  behind  them,  and  run.  Some  run  a 
hundred  paces  and  then  stop ;  some  run  fifty  paces  and  stop. 
What  would  you  think  if  these,  because  they  had  run  but 
fifty  paces,  should  laugh  at  those  who  ran  a  hundred  paces  ?  " 
The  king  said,  "  They  cannot  do  so.  They  only  did  not  run 
a  hundred  paces ;  but  they  also  ran."  Mencius  said,  "  Since 
your  Majesty  knows  this  you  have  no  ground  to  expect  that 
your  people  will  become  more  numerous  than  those  of  the 
neighboring  kingdoms. 

"  If  the  seasons  of  husbandry  be  not  interfered  with,  the  grain 
will  be  more  than  can  be  eaten.  If  close  nets  are  not  allowed 
to  enter  the  pools  and  ponds,  the  fish  and  turtles  will  be  more 
than  can  be  consumed.  If  the  axes  and  bills  enter  the  hill- 
forests  only  at  the  proper  times,  the  wood  will  be  more  than  can 
be  used.  When  the  grain  and  fish  and  turtles  are  more  than 
can  be  eaten,  and  there  is  more  wood  than  can  be  used,  this 
enables  the  people  to  nourish  their  living  and  do  all  oflfices  for 
their  dead,  without  any  feeling  against  any.  But  this  condi- 
tion, in  which  the  people  nourish  their  living,  and  do  all  offices 
to  their  dead  without  having  any  feeling  against  any,  is  the 
first  step  in  the  Royal  way. 

"  Let  mulberry  trees  be  planted  about  the  homesteads  with 
their  five  acres,  and  persons  of  fifty  years  will  be  able  to  wear 
silk.  In  keeping  fowls,  pigs,  dogs,  and  swine,  let  not  their  time 
of  breeding  be  neglected,  and  persons  of  seventy  years  will 
be  able  to  eat  flesh.  Let  there  not  be  taken  away  the  time  that 
is  proper  for  the  cultivation  of  the  field  allotment  of  a  hundred 
acres,  and  the  family  of  several  mouths  will  not  sufifer  from 
hunger.  Let  careful  attention  be  paid  to  the  teaching  in  the 
various  schools,  with  repeated  inculcation  of  the  filial  and  fra- 
ternal duties,  and  gray-haired  men  will  not  be  seen  upon  the 
roads,  carrying  burdens  on  their  backs  or  on  their  heads.     It 


'  io2  THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS 

has  never  been  that  the  ruler  of  a  State  where  these  resuUs  were 
seen,  persons  of  seventy  wearing  silk  and  eating  flesh,  and  the 
black-haired  people  suffering  neither  from  hunger  nor  cold,  did 
not  attain  to  the  Royal  dignity. 

"  Your  dogs  and  swine  eat  the  food  of  men,  and  you  do  not 
know  to  store  up  of  the  abundance.  There  are  people  dying 
from  famine  on  the  roads,  and  you  do  not  know  to  issue  your 
stores  for  their  relief.  When  men  die,  you  say,  '  It  is  not 
owing  to  me  ;  it  is  owing  to  the  year.'  In  what  does  this  differ 
from  stabbing  a  man  and  killing  him,  and  then  saying,  '  It  was 
not  I ;  it  was  the  weapon  '  ?  Let  your  Majesty  cease  to  lay  the 
blame  on  the  year  and  instantly  the  people,  all  under  the  sky, 
will  come  to  you." 

King  Hwuy  of  Leang  said,  "  I  wish  quietly  to  receive  your 
instructions."  Mencius  replied,  "  Is  there  any  difference  be- 
tween killing  a  man  with  a  stick  and  with  a  sword  ?  "  "  There 
is  no  difference,"  was  the  answer. 

Mencius  continued,  "  Is  there  any  difference  between  doing 
it  with  a  sword  and  with  governmental  measures  ?  "  "  There 
is  not,"  was  the  answer  again. 

Mencius  then  said,  "  In  your  stalls  there  are  fat  beasts ;  in 
your  stables  there  are  fat  horses.  But  your  people  have  the 
look  of  hunger,  and  in  the  fields  there  are  those  who  have  died 
of  famine.  This  is  leading  on  beasts  to  devour  men.  Beasts 
devour  one  another,  and  men  hate  them  for  doing  so.  When 
he  who  is  called  the  parent  of  the  people  conducts  his  govern- 
ment so  as  to  be  chargeable  with  leading  on  beasts  to  devour 
men,  where  is  that  parental  relation  to  the  people  ?  Chung-ne 
said,  '  Was  he  not  without  posterity  who  first  made  wooden 
images  to  bury  with  the  dead  ?  '  So  he  said,  because  that  man 
made  the  semblances  of  men  and  used  them  for  that  purpose ; 
what  shall  be  thought  of  him  who  causes  his  people  to  die  of 
hunger?  " 

King  Hwuy  of  Leang  said,  "  There  was  not  in  the  kingdom 
a  stronger  State  than  Ts'in,  as  you,  venerable  Sir,  know.  But 
since  it  descended  to  me,  on  the  east  we  were  defeated  by  Ts'e, 
and  then  my  eldest  son  perished ;  on  the  west  we  lost  seven 
hundred  li  of  territory  to  Ts'in ;  and  on  the  south  we  have  sus- 
tained disgrace  at  the  hands  of  Ts'oo.  I  have  brought  shame 
on  my  departed  predecessors,  and  wish  on  their  account  to 
wipe  it  away  once  for  all.  What  course  is  to  be  pursued  to  ac- 
complish this  ?  " 


THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS  103 

Mencius  replied,  "  With  a  territory  only  a  hundred  li  square 
it  has  been  possible  to  obtain  the  Royal  dignity.  If  your 
Majesty  will  indeed  dispense  a  benevolent  government  to  the 
people,  being  sparing  in  the  use  of  punishments  and  fines,  and 
making  the  taxes  and  levies  of  produce  light,  so  causing  that 
the  fields  shall  be  ploughed  deep,  and  the  weeding  well  attended 
to,  and  that  the  able-bodied,  during  their  days  of  leisure,  shall 
cultivate  their  filial  piety,  fraternal  duty,  faithfulness,  and  truth, 
serving  thereby,  at  home,  their  fathers  and  elder  brothers,  and, 
abroad,  their  elders  and  superiors,  you  will  then  have  a  people 
who  can  be  employed  with  sticks  which  they  have  prepared  to 
oppose  the  strong  bufT-coats  and  sharp  weapons  of  the  troops 
of  Ts'in  and  Ts'oo. 

"  The  rulers  of  those  States  rob  their  people  of  their  time,  so 
that  they  cannot  plough  and  weed  their  fields  in  order  to  sup- 
port their  parents.  Parents  suffer  from  cold  and  hunger ;  elder 
and  younger  brothers,  wives  and  children,  are  separated  and 
scattered  abroad.  Those  rulers  drive  their  people  into  pitfalls 
or  into  the  water;  and  your  Majesty  will  go  to  punish  them. 
In  such  a  case,  who  will  oppose  your  Majesty?  In  accord- 
ance with  this  is  the  saying,  '  The  benevolent  has  no  enemy ! ' 
I  beg  your  Majesty  not  to  doubt  what  I  said." 

Mencius  had  an  interview  with  King  Seang*  of  Leang. 
When  he  came  out  he  said  to  some  persons,  "  When  I  looked  at 
him  from  a  distance,  he  did  not  appear  like  a  ruler ;  when  I 
drew  near  to  him,  I  saw  nothing  venerable  about  him.  Abrupt- 
ly he  asked  me,  '  How  can  the  kingdom,  all  under  the  sky,  be 
settled  ? '  I  replied,  '  It  will  be  settled  by  being  united  under 
one  sway.' 

" '  Who  can  so  unite  it?  '  he  asked. 

"  I  replied,  '  He  who  has  no  pleasure  in  killing  men  can  so 
unite  it.' 

"  '  Who  can  give  it  to  him  ?  '  he  asked. 

"  I  replied,  '  All  under  heaven  will  give  it  to  him.  Does 
your  Majesty  know  the  way  of  the  growing  grain  ?  During  the 
seventh  and  eighth  months,  when  drought  prevails,  the  plants 
become  dry.     Then  the  clouds  collect  densely  in  the  heavens, 

*  Seang  was  the  son  of  King  Hwuy.  interview  here  recorded  seems  to  have 

The   first  year  of  his  reign   is   supposed  taken  place  immediately  after  Hih's  ac- 

to  be  B.  c.  317.     Seang's  name  was  Hih.  cession,  and  Mencius,  it  is  said,  was  so 

As  a  posthumous   epithet,  Seang  has  va-  disappointed  by  it  that  he  soon  after  left 

rious    meanings:      ^'  Land-enlarger    and  the  country. 
Virtuous  ";  "  Successful  in  Arms."  The 


I04  THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS 

and  send  down  torrents  of  rain,  so  that  the  grain  erects  itself  as 
if  by  a  shoot.  When  it  does  so,  who  can  keep  it  back?  Now 
among  those  who  are  shepherds  of  men  throughout  the  king- 
dom, there  is  not  one  who  does  not  find  pleasure  in  killing  men. 
If  there  were  one  who  did  not  find  pleasure  in  killing  men,  all 
the  people  under  the  sky  would  be  looking  towards  him  with 
outstretched  necks.  Such  being  indeed  the  case,  the  people 
would  go  to  him  as  water  flows  downwards  with  a  rush,  which 
no  one  can  repress." 

King  Seuen  of  Ts'e  asked,  saying,  "  May  I  be  informed  by 
you  of  the  transactions  of  Hwan  of  Ts'e  and  Wan  of  Ts'in  ? ' 

Mencius  replied,  "  There  were  none  of  the  disciples  of  Chung- 
ne  who  spoke  about  the  affairs  of  Hwan  and  Wan,  and  there- 
fore they  have  not  been  transmitted  to  these  after-ages ;  your 
servant  has  not  heard  of  them.  If  you  will  have  me  speak,  let  it 
be  about  the  principles  of  attaining  to  the  Royal  sway." 

The  king  said,  "  Of  what  kind  must  his  virtue  be  who  can 
attain  to  the  Royal  sway?"  Mencius  said,  "  If  he  loves  and 
protects  the  people,  it  is  impossible  to  prevent  him  from  attain- 
ing it." 

The  king  said,  "  Is  such  an  one  as  poor  I  competent  to  love 
and  protect  the  people?"  "Yes,"  was  the  reply.  "From 
what  do  you  know  that  I  am  competent  to  that  ?  "  "I  have 
heard,"  said  Mencius,  "  from  Hoo  Heih  the  following  inci- 
dent : — '  The  king,'  said  he,  '  was  sitting  aloft  in  the  hall,  when 
some  people  appeared  leading  a  bull  past  below  it.  The  king 
saw  it,  and  asked  where  the  bull  was  going,  and  being  answered 
that  they  were  going  to  consecrate  a  bell  with  its  blood,  he  said, 
"  Let  it  go,  I  cannot  bear  its  frightened  appearance — as  if  it 
were  an  innocent  person  going  to  the  place  of  death."  They 
asked  in  reply  whether,  if  they  did  so,  they  should  omit  the 
consecration  of  the  bell,  but  the  king  said,  "  How  can  that  be 
omitted?  Change  it  for  a  sheep."  I  do  not  know  whether 
this  incident  occurred." 

"  It  did,"  said  the  king,  and  Mencius  replied,  "  The  heart 
seen  in  this  is  sufficient  to  carry  you  to  the  Royal  sway.  The 
people  all  supposed  that  your  Majesty  grudged  the  animal, 
but  your  servant  knows  surely  that  it  was  your  Majesty's  not 
being  able  to  bear  the  sight  of  the  creature's  distress  which 
made  you  do  as  you  did." 

The  king  said,  "  You  are  right ;  and  yet  there  really  was  an 


THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS  105 

appearance  of  what  the  people  imagined.  But  though  Ts'e  be 
narrow  and  small,  how  should  I  grudge  a  bull  ?  Indeed  it  was 
because  I  could  not  bear  its  frightened  appearance,  as  if  it  were 
an  innocent  person  going  to  the  place  of  death,  that  therefore  I 
changed  it  for  a  sheep." 

Mencius  said,  "  Let  not  your  Majesty  deem  it  strange  that 
the  people  should  think  you  grudged  the  animal.  When  you 
changed  a  large  one  for  a  small,  how  should  they  know  the  true 
reason  ?  If  you  felt  pained  by  its  being  led  without  any  guilt 
to  the  place  of  death,  what  was  there  to  choose  between  a  bull 
and  a  sheep  ?  "  The  king  laughed  and  said,  "  What  really 
was  my  mind  in  the  matter?  I  did  not  grudge  the  value  of 
the  bull,  and  yet  I  changed  it  for  a  sheep  I  There  was  reason  in 
the  people's  saying  that  I  grudged  the  creature." 

Mencius  said,  "  There  is  no  harm  in  their  saying  so.  It  was 
an  artifice  of  benevolence.  You  saw  the  bull,  and  had  not  seen 
the  sheep.  So  is  the  superior  man  afifected  towards  animals, 
that,  having  seen  them  alive,  he  cannot  bear  to  see  them  die, 
and,  having  heard  their  dying  cries,  he  cannot  bear  to  eat  their 
flesh.  On  this  account  he  keeps  away  from  his  stalls  and 
kitchen." 

The  king  was  pleased  and  said,  "  The  Ode  says, 

'  What  other  men  have  in  their  minds, 
I  can  measure  by  reflection.' 

This  might  be  spoken  of  you,  my  Master.  I  indeed  did  the 
thing,  but  when  I  turned  my  thoughts  inward  and  sought  for 
it,  I  could  not  discover  my  own  mind.  When  you.  Master, 
spoke  those  words,  the  movements  of  compassion  began  to 
work  in  my  mind.  But  how  is  it  that  this  heart  has  in  it  what 
is  equal  to  the  attainment  of  the  Royal  sway  ?  " 

Mencius  said,  "  Suppose  a  man  were  to  make  this  statement 
to  your  Majesty,  '  My  strength  is  sufficient  to  lift  three  thou- 
sand catties,  but  is  not  sufficient  to  life  one  feather;  my  eye- 
sight is  sharp  enough  to  examine  the  point  of  an  autumn  hair, 
but  I  do  not  see  a  wagon-load  of  fagots,'  would  your  Majesty 
allow  what  he  said?"  "No,"  was  the  king's  remark,  and 
Mencius  proceded,  "  Now  here  is  kindness  sufficient  to  reach 
to  animals,  and  yet  no  benefits  are  extended  from  it  to  the  peo- 
ple— how  is  this  ?  is  an  exception  to  be  made  here  ?  The  truth 
is,  the  feather's  not  being  lifted  is  because  the  strength  was  not 


to6  THE  SAYINGS   OF  MENCIUS 

used ;  the  wagon-load  of  firewood's  not  being  seen  is  because 
the  eyesight  was  not  used ;  and  the  people's  not  being  loved 
and  protected  is  because  the  kindness  is  not  used.  Therefore 
your  Majesty's  not  attaining  to  the  Royal  sway  is  because  you 
do  not  do  it,  and  not  because  you  are  not  able  to  do  it." 

The  king  asked,  "  How  may  the  difference  between  him  who 
does  not  do  a  thing  and  him  who  is  not  able  to  do  it  be  graphi- 
cally set  forth  ?  "  Mencius  replied,  "  In  such  a  thing  as  taking 
the  T'ae  mountain  under  your  arm,  and  leaping  with  it  over 
the  North  Sea,  if  you  say  to  people,  '  I  am  not  able  to  do  it,' 
that  is  a  real  case  of  not  being  able.  In  such  a  matter  as  break- 
ing ofif  a  branch  from  a  tree  at  the  order  of  a  superior,  if  you 
say  to  people,  '  I  am  not  able  to  do  it,'  it  is  not  a  case  of  not 
being  able  to  do  it.  And  so  your  Majesty's  not  attaining  to  the 
Royal  sway  is  not  such  a  case  as  that  of  taking  the  T'ae  moun- 
tain under  your  arm  and  leaping  over  the  North  Sea  with  it ; 
but  it  is  a  case  like  that  of  breaking  off  a  branch  from  a  tree. 

"  Treat  with  reverence  due  to  age  the  elders  in  your  own 
family,  so  that  those  in  the  families  of  others  shall  be  similarly 
treated ;  treat  with  the  kindness  due  to  youth  the  young  in  your 
own  family,  so  that  those  in  the  families  of  others  shall  be  simi- 
larly treated — do  this  and  the  kingdom  may  be  made  to  go 
round  in  your  palm.     It  is  said  in  the  '  Book  of  Poetry/ 

*  His  example  acted  on  his  wife, 
Extended  to  his  brethren, 
And  was  felt  by  all  the  clans  and  States ; ' 

telling  us  how  King  Wan  simply  took  this  kindly  heart,  and 
exercised  it  towards  those  parties.  Therefore  the  carrying  out 
of  the  feeling  of  kindness  by  a  ruler  will  suffice  for  the  love  and 
protection  of  all  within  the  four  seas ;  and  if  he  do  not  carry 
it  out,  he  will  not  be  able  to  protect  his  wife  and  children.  The 
way  in  which  the  ancients  came  greatly  to  surpass  other  men 
was  no  other  than  this,  that  they  carried  out  well  what  they  did, 
so  as  to  affect  others.  Now  your  kindness  is  sufficient  to  reach 
to  animals,  and  yet  no  benefits  are  extended  from  it  to  the 
people.     How  is  this  ?     Is  an  exception  to  be  made  here  ? 

"  By  weighing  we  know  what  things  are  light,  and  what 
heavy.  By  measuring  we  know  what  things  are  long,  and 
what  short.  All  things  are  so  dealt  with,  and  the  mind  requires 
specially  to  be  so.     I  beg  your  Majesty  to  measure  it. 


THE  SAYINGS   OF  MENCIUS  lo? 

"  Your  Majesty  collects  your  equipments  of  war,  endangers 
your  soldiers  and  officers  and  excites  the  resentment  of  the 
various  princes — do  these  things  cause  you  pleasure  in  your 
mind?  " 

The  king  said,  "  No.  How  should  I  derive  pleasure  from 
these  things  ?  My  object  in  them  is  to  seek  for  what  I  greatly 
desire." 

Mencius  said,  "  May  I  hear  from  you  what  it  is  that  your 
Majesty  greatly  desires  ?  "  The  king  laughed,  and  did  not 
speak.  Mencius  resumed,  "  Are  you  led  to  desire  it  because 
you  have  not  enough  of  rich  and  sweet  food  for  your  mouth  ? 
or  because  you  have  not  enough  of  light  and  warm  clothing  for 
your  body?  or  because  you  have  not  enough  of  beautifully 
colored  objects  to  satisfy  your  eyes?  or  because  there  are  not 
voices  and  sounds  enough  to  fill  your  ears?  or  because  you 
have  not  enough  of  attendants  and  favorites  to  stand  before  you 
and  receive  your  orders?  Your  Majesty's  various  ofificers  are 
sufBcient  to  supply  you  with  all  these  things.  How  can  your 
Majesty  have  such  a  desire  on  account  of  them  ?  "  "  No,"  said 
the  King,  "  my  desire  is  not  on  account  of  them."  Mencius 
observed,  "  Then  what  your  Majesty  greatly  desires  can  be 
known.  You  desire  to  enlarge  your  territories,  to  have  Ts'in 
and  Ts'oo  coming  to  your  court,  to  rule  the  Middle  States,  and 
to  attract  to  you  the  barbarous  tribes  that  surround  them.  But 
to  do  what  you  do  in  order  to  seek  for  what  you  desire  is  like 
climbing  a  tree  to  seek  for  fish." 

"  Is  it  so  bad  as  that?  "  said  the  king.  "  I  apprehend  it  is 
worse,"  was  the  reply.  "  If  you  climb  a  tree  to  seek  for  fish, 
although  you  do  not  get  the  fish,  you  have  no  subsequent  calam- 
ity. But  if  you  do  what  you  do  in  order  to  seek  for  what  you 
desire,  doing  it  even  with  all  your  heart,  you  will  assuredly 
afterwards  meet  with  calamities."  The  king  said,  "  May  I  hear 
what  they  will  be?  "  Mencius  replied,  "  If  the  people  of  Tsow 
were  fighting  with  the  people  of  Ts'oo,  which  of  them  does  your 
Majesty  think  would  conquer?  "  "  The  people  of  Ts'oo  would 
conquer,"  was  the  answer,  and  Mencius  pursued,  "  So  then,  a 
small  State  cannot  contend  with  a  great,  few  cannot  contend 
with  many,  nor  can  the  weak  contend  with  the  strong.  The 
territory  within  the  seas  would  embrace  nine  divisions,  each  of 
a  thousand  li  square.  All  Ts'e  together  is  one  of  them.  If 
with  one  part  you  try  to  subdue  the  other  eight,  what  is  the  dif- 


lo8  THE   SAYINGS   OF  MENCIUS 

ference  between  that  and  Tsow's  contending  with  Ts'oo? 
With  the  desire  which  you  have,  you  must  turn  back  to  the 
proper  course  for  its  attainment. 

'*  Now,  if  your  Majesty  will  institute  a  government  whose 
action  shall  all  be  benevolent,  this  will  cause  all  the  ofificers  in 
the  kingdom  to  wish  to  stand  in  your  Majesty's  court,  the 
farmers  all  to  wish  to  plough  in  your  Majesty's  fields,  the  mer- 
chants, both  travelling  and  stationary,  all  to  wish  to  store  their 
goods  in  your  Majesty's  market-places,  travellers  and  visitors 
all  to  wish  to  travel  on  your  Majesty's  roads,  and  all  under 
heaven  who  feel  aggrieved  by  their  rulers  to  wish  to  come  and 
complain  to  your  Majesty.  When  they  are  so  bent,  who  will  be 
able  to  keep  them  back  ?  " 

The  king  said,  "  I  am  stupid  and  cannot  advance  to  this. 
But  I  wish  you,  my  Master,  to  assist  my  intentions.  Teach  me 
clearly,  and  although  I  am  deficient  in  intelligence  and  vigor, 
I  should  like  to  try  at  least  to  institute  such  a  government." 

Mencius  replied,  "  They  are  only  men  of  education,  who, 
without  a  certain  livelihood,  are  able  to  maintain  a  fixed  heart. 
As  to  the  people,  if  they  have  not  a  certain  livelihood,  they  will 
be  found  not  to  have  a  fixed  heart.  And  if  they  have  not  a  fixed 
heart,  there  is  nothing  which  they  will  not  do  in  the  way  of  self- 
abandonment,  of  moral  deflection,  of  depravity,  and  of  wild 
license.  When  they  have  thus  been  involved  in  crime,  to  fol- 
low them  up  and  punish  them,  is  to  entrap  the  people.  How 
can  such  a  thing  as  entrapping  the  people  be  done  under  the 
rule  of  a  benevolent  man  ?  " 

"  Therefore,  an  intelligent  ruler  will  regulate  the  livelihood  of 
the  people,  so  as  to  make  sure  that,  above,  they  shall  have 
sufficient  wherewith  to  serve  their  parents,  and  below,  sufficient 
wherewith  to  support  their  wives  and  children  ;  that  in  good 
years  they  shall  always  be  abundantly  satisfied,  and  that  in  bad 
years  they  shall  not  be  in  danger  of  perishing.  After  this  he 
may  urge  them,  and  they  will  proceed  to  what  is  good,  for  in 
this  case  the  people  will  follow  after  that  with  readiness. 

"  But  now  the  livelihood  of  the  people  is  so  regulated,  that, 
above,  they  have  not  sufficient  wherewith  to  serve  their  parents, 
and,  below,  they  have  not  sufficient  wherewith  to  support  their 
wives  and  children  ;  even  in  good  years  their  lives  are  always 
embittered,  and  in  bad  years  they  are  in  danger  of  perishing. 
In  such  circumstances  their  only  object  is  to   escape   from 


THE  SAYINGS   OF  MENCIUS 


109 


death,  and  they  are  afraid  they  will  not  succeed  in  doing  so — 
what  leisure  have  they  to  cultivate  propriety  and  righteousness? 

"  If  your  Majesty  wishes  to  carry  out  a  benevolent  govern- 
ment, why  not  turn  back  to  what  is  the  essential  step  to  its  at- 
tainment? 

"  Let  mulberry  trees  be  planted  about  the  homesteads  with 
their  five  acres,  and  persons  of  fifty  years  will  be  able  to  wear 
silk.  In  keeping  fowls,  pigs,  dogs,  and  swine,  let  not  their 
times  of  breeding  be  neglected,  and  persons  of  seventy  years 
will  be  able  to  eat  flesh.  Let  there  not  be  taken  away  the  time 
that  is  proper  for  the  cultivation  of  the  field-allotment  of  a  hun- 
dred acres,  and  the  family  of  eight  mouths  will  not  suffer  from 
hunger.  Let  careful  attention  be  paid  to  the  teaching  in  the 
various  schools,  with  repeated  inculcation  of  the  filial  and  fra- 
ternal duties,  and  gray-haired  men  will  not  be  seen  upon  the 
roads,  carrying  burdens  on  their  backs  or  on  their  heads.  It 
has  never  been  that  the  ruler  of  a  State,  where  these  results 
were  seen,  the  old  wearing  silk  and  eating  fiesh,  and  the  black- 
haired  people  suffering  neither  from  hunger  nor  cold,  did  not 
attain  to  the  Royal  dignity." 

[Books  II,  III,  and  IV  are  emitted^ 


BOOK  V 

WAN   CHANG* 
Part  I 

WAN  CHANG  asked  Mencius,  saying,  "  When  Shun 
went  into  the  fields,  he  cried  out  and  wept  towards 
the    pitying    heavens.     Why    did    he    cry    out    and 
weep  ?  "     Mencius  rephed,  "  He  was  dissatisfied  and  full  of 
earnest  desire." 

Wan  Chang  said,  "  When  his  parents  love  him,  a  son  re- 
joices and  forgets  them  not ;  and  when  they  hate  him,  though 
they  punish  him,  he  does  not  allow  himself  to  be  dissatisfied. 
Was  Shun  then  dissatisfied  with  his  parents?  "  Mencius  said, 
"  Ch'ang  Seih  asked  Kung-ming  Kaou,  saying,  '  As  to  Shun's 
going  into  the  fields,  I  have  received  your  instructions ;  but  I 
do  not  understand  about  his  weeping  and  crying  out  to  the 
pitying  heavens,  and  to  his  parents.'  Kung-ming  Kaou  an- 
swered him,  '  You  do  not  understand  that  matter.'  Now 
Kung-ming  Kaou  thought  that  the  heart  of  a  filial  son  like 
Shun  could  not  be  so  free  from  sorrow  as  Seih  seemed  to  imag- 
ine he  might  have  been.  Shun  would  be  saying,  '  I  exert  my 
strength  to  cultivate  the  fields,  but  I  am  thereby  only  discharg- 
ing my  duty  as  a  son.  What  is  there  wrong  in  me  that  my 
parents  do  not  love  me?  ' 

"  The  emperor  caused  his  own  children — nine  sons  and  two 
daughters — the  various  officers,  oxen  and  sheep,  storehouses 
and  granaries,  all  to  be  prepared  for  the  service  of  Shun  amid 
the  channeled  fields.  Most  of  the  officers  in  the  empire  re- 
paired to  him.  The  emperor  designed  that  he  should  superin- 
tend the  empire  along  with  himself,  and  then  to  transfer  it  to 

*  The     Book    is     named    from     Wan  having    retired    into    privacy,    composed 

Chang,  who  is  almost  the  only  interlocu-  the    Seven    Books    which    constitute    his 

tor   with    Mencius   in    it.     The   tradition  works.      The    part    which    follows    is   all 

is  that   it   was   in   company   with   Wan's  occupied  with  discussions  in  vindication 

disciples    that    Mencius,    baffled    in    all  of  Shun  and  other  ancient  worthies, 
his  hopes  of  doing  public  service,   and 

IIO 


THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS  ill 

him.  But  because  his  parents  were  not  in  accord  with  him,  he 
felt  Hke  a  poor  man  who  has  nowhere  to  turn  to. 

"  To  be  an  object  of  complacency  to  the  officers  of  the  em- 
pire is  what  men  desire ;  but  it  was  not  sufficient  to  remove  the 
sorrow  of  Shun.  The  possession  of  beauty  is  what  men  desire  : 
but  though  Shun  had  for  his  wives  the  two  daughters  of  the 
emperor,  it  was  not  sufficient  to  remove  his  sorrow.  Riches 
are  what  men  desire,  but  though  the  empire  was  the  rich  prop- 
erty of  Shun,  it  was  not  enough  to  remove  his  sorrow.  Honors 
are  what  men  desire,  but  though  Shun  had  the  dignity  of  being 
the  son  of  Heaven,  it  was  not  sufficient  to  remove  his  sorrow. 
The  reason  why  his  being  the  object  of  men's  complacency,  the 
possession  of  beauty,  riches,  and  honors,  could  not  remove  his 
sorrow  was  because  it  could  be  removed  only  by  his  being  in  en- 
tire accord  with  his  parents. 

"  The  desire  of  a  child  is  towards  his  father  and  mother. 
When  he  becomes  conscious  of  the  attractions  of  beauty,  his  de- 
sire is  towards  young  and  beautiful  women.  When  he  comes 
to  have  a  wife  and  children,  his  desire  is  towards  them.  When 
he  obtains  office,  his  desire  is  towards  his  ruler ;  and  if  he  can- 
not get  the  regard  of  his  ruler,  he  burns  within.  But  the  man 
of  great  filial  piety,  all  his  life,  has  his  desire  towards  his  par- 
ents. In  the  great  Shun  I  see  the  case  of  one  whose  desire  was 
towards  them  when  he  was  fifty  years  old." 

Wan  Chang  asked  Mencius,  saying,  "  It  is  said  in  the  *  Book 
of  Poetry,' 

'How  do  we  proceed  in  taking  a  wife? 
Announcement  must  first  be  made  to  our  parents.' 

If  the  rule  be  indeed  as  thus  expressed,  no  one  ought  to  have 
illustrated  it  so  well  as  Shun — how  was  it  that  Shun's  marriage 
took  place  without  his  informing  his  parents  ?  "  Mencius  re- 
plied, "  If  he  had  informed  them,  he  would  not  have  been  able 
to  marry.  That  male  and  female  dwell  together  is  the  greatest 
of  human  relations.  If  Shun  had  informed  his  parents,  he  must 
have  made  void  this  greatest  of  human  relations,  and  incurred 
thereby  their  resentment.  It  was  on  this  account  that  he  did 
not  inform  them." 

Wan  Chang  said,  "  As  to  Shun's  marrying  without  making 
announcement  to  his  parents,  I  have  heard  your  instructions. 
But  how  was  it  that  the  emperor  gave  him  his  daughters  as 


112  THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS 

wives  without  informing  his  parents  ?  "  Mencius  said,  "  The 
emperor  also  knew  that,  if  he  informed  his  parents,  he  could  not 
have  given  him  his  daughters  as  wives." 

Wan  Chang  said,  "  His  parents  set  Shun  to  repair  a  granary, 
and  then  removed  the  ladder  by  which  he  had  ascended ;  after 
which  Koo-sow  set  lire  to  it.  They  sent  him  to  dig  a  well,  from 
which  he  managed  to  get  out ;  but  they,  not  knowing  this,  pro- 
ceeded to  cover  it  up.  His  brother,  Seang,  said,  '  Of  this 
scheme  to  cover  up  the  city-farming  gentleman  the  merit  is  all 
mine.  Let  my  parents  have  his  oxen  and  sheep ;  let  them 
have  his  granaries  and  storehouses.  His  shield  and  spear  shall 
be  mine  ;  his  lute  shall  be  mine ;  his  carved  bow  shall  be  mine ; 
and  I  will  make  his  two  wives  attend  for  me  to  my  bed.'  Seang 
then  went  away  and  entered  Shun's  house,  and  there  was  Shun 
upon  a  couch  with  his  lute.  Seang  said,  '  I  am  come  simply 
because  I  was  thinking  anxiously  about  you,'  and  at  the  same 
time  he  looked  ashamed.  Shun  said  to  him,  '  There  are  all  my 
ol^cers ;  do  you  take  the  management  of  them  for  me.'  I  do 
not  know  whether  Shun  was  ignorant  of  Seang's  wishing  to  kill 
him."  Mencius  replied,  "How  could  he  be  ignorant  of  it? 
But  when  Seang  was  sorrowful,  he  was  also  sorrowful,  and 
when  Seang  was  joyful,  he  was  also  joyful." 

Wan  Chang  continued,  "  Then  was  Shun  one  who  rejoiced 
hypocritically?"  "  No,"  was  the  reply.  "  Formerly  some  one 
sent  a  present  of  a  live  fish  to  Tsze-ch'an  of  Ch'ing.  Tsze-ch'an 
ordered  his  pond-keeper  to  feed  it  in  the  pond ;  but  the  man 
cooked  it  and  reported  the  execution  of  his  commission,  saying, 
*  When  I  first  let  it  go,  it  looked  embarrassed.  In  a  little 
while  it  seemed  to  be  somewhat  at  ease,  and  then  it  swam  away 
as  if  delighted.'  *  It  had  got  into  its  element ! '  said  Tsze-ch'an. 
The  pond-keeper  went  out  and  said,  '  Who  calls  Tsze-ch'an 
wise  ?  When  I  had  cooked  and  eaten  the  fish,  he  said,  "  It  has 
got  into  its  element !  It  has  got  into  its  element !  "  '  Thus  a 
superior  man  may  be  imposed  on  by  what  seems  to  be  as  it 
ought  to  be,  but  it  is  diflBcult  to  entrap  him  by  what  is  contrary 
to  right  principle.  Seang  came  in  the  way  in  which  the  love 
of  his  elder  brother  would  have  made  him  come,  and  therefore 
Shun  truly  believed  him,  and  rejoiced  at  it.  What  hypocrisy 
was  there?  " 

Wan  Chang  said,  "  Seang  made  it  his  daily  business  to  kill 
Shun ;  why  was  it  that,  when  the  latter  was  raised  to  be  the  son 


THE   SAYINGS   OF   MENCIUS  113 

of  Heaven,  he  only  banished  him  ?  "  Mencius  repHed,  "  He 
invested  him  with  a  State,  and  some  have  said  that  it  was  ban- 
ishing him."  When  Chang  said,  "  Shun  banished  the  Superin- 
tendent of  Works  to  Yew-chow,  sent  away  Hwan-tow  to 
Mount  Ts'ung,  slew  the  Prince  of  San  Meaou  in  San-wei,  and 
imprisoned  K'wan  on  Mount  Yu.  When  those  four  criminals 
were  thus  dealt  with,  all  under  heaven  submitted  to  him;  it 
was  a  cutting  off  of  men  who  were  destitute  of  benevolence. 
But  Seang  was  of  all  men  the  most  destitute  of  benevolence. 
and  Shun  invested  him  with  the  State  of  Pe ;  of  what  crime 
had  the  people  of  Pe  been  guilty?  Does  a  benevolent  man 
really  act  thus  ?  In  the  case  of  other  men,  he  cut  them  off ; 
in  the  case  of  his  brother,  he  invested  him  with  a  State."  Men- 
cius replied,  "  A  benevolent  man  does  not  lay  up  anger,  nor 
cherish  resentment  against  his  brother,  but  only  regards  him 
with  affection  and  love.  Regarding  him  with  affection,  he 
wishes  him  to  enjoy  honor ;  loving  him,  he  wishes  him  to  be 
rich.  The  investing  him  with  Pe  was  to  enrich  and  ennoble 
him.  If  while  Shun  himself  was  emperor,  his  brother  had 
been  a  common  man,  could  he  have  been  said  to  regard  him 
with  affection  and  love  ?  " 

Wan  Chang  said,  "  I  venture  to  ask  what  is  meant  by  some 
saying  that  it  was  a  banishing  of  Seang."  Mencius  replied, 
"  Seang  could  do  nothing  of  himself  in  his  State.  The  em- 
peror appointed  an  officer  to  manage  its  government,  and  to 
pay  over  its  revenues  to  him ;  and  therefore  it  was  said  that  it 
was  a  banishing  of  him  ?  How  indeed  could  he  be  allowed  the 
means  of  oppressing  the  people  there?  Nevertheless,  Shun 
wished  to  be  continually  seeing  him,  and  therefore  he  came 
unceasingly  to  court,  as  is  signified  in  that  expression,  '  He  did 
not  wait  for  the  rendering  of  tribute,  or  affairs  of  government, 
to  receive  the  prince  of  Pe.'  " 

Heen-k'ew  Mung  asked  Mencius,  saying,  "  There  is  the 
old  saying,  *  An  officer  of  complete  virtue  cannot  be  employed 
as  a  minister  by  his  ruler,  nor  treated  as  a  son  by  his  father.' 
Shun  stood  with  his  face  to  the  south,  and  Yaou,  at  the  head  of 
all  the  feudal  princes,  appeared  in  his  court  with  his  face  to  the 
north.  Koo-sow  also  appeared  at  Shun's  court  with  his  face 
to  the  north ;  and  when  Shun  saw  him,  his  countenance  as- 
sumed a  look  of  distress.  Confucius  said,  *  At  this  time  the 
empire  was  in  a  perilous  condition  indeed !  How  unsettled  was 
Vol.  IV.— 8 


tu 


THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS 


its  state ! '  I  do  not  know  whether  what  is  thus  said  really  took 
place."  Mencius  said,  "  No.  These  are  not  the  words  of  a 
superior  man,  but  the  sayings  of  an  uncultivated  person  of  the 
east  of  Ts'e.  When  Yaou  was  old,  Shun  took  the  management 
of  affairs  for  him.  It  is  said  in  the  Canon  of  Yaou, '  After  twen- 
ty-eight years,  Fang-heun  demised,  and  the  people  mourned 
for  him  as  for  a  parent  three  years.  All  within  the  four  seas,  the 
eight  instruments  of  music  were  stopped  and  hushed."  Confu- 
cius said,  '  There  are  not  two  suns  in  the  sky,  nor  two  sov- 
ereigns over  the  people.  If  Shun  had  already  been  in  the  posi- 
tion of  the  son  of  Heaven,  and  had  moreover  led  on  all  the 
feudal  princes  of  the  empire  to  observe  the  three  years'  mourn- 
ing for  Yaou,  there  must  in  that  case  have  been  two  sons  of 
Heaven.'  " 

Heen-k'ew  Mung  said,  "  On  the  point  of  Shun's  not  em- 
ploying Yaou  as  a  minister,  I  have  received  your  instructions. 
But  is  is  said  in  the  '  Book  of  Poetry,' 

'  Under  the  wide  heaven, 
All  is  the  king's  land; 
Within  the  sea-boundaries  of  the  land, 
All  are  the  king's  servants.' 

When  Shun  became  emperor,  I  venture  to  ask  how  it  was 
that  Koo-sow  was  not  one  of  his  servants."  Mencius  replied, 
"  That  Ode  is  not  to  be  understood  in  that  way ;  it  speaks  of 
being  laboriously  engaged  in  the  king's  business,  and  not  being 
able  to  nourish  one's  parents,  as  if  the  subject  of  it  said, '  This  is 
all  the  king's  business,  but  I  alone  am  supposed  to  have  ability, 
and  made  to  toil  in  it.'  Therefore  those  who  explain  the  Odes 
must  not  insist  on  one  term  so  as  to  do  violence  to  a  sentence, 
nor  on  a  sentence  so  as  to  do  violence  to  the  general  scope. 
They  must  try  with  their  thoughts  to  meet  that  scope,  and 
then  they  will  apprehend  it.  If  we  simply  take  single  sen- 
tences, there  is  that  in  the  Ode  called  the  '  Yun  Han,' 

'  Of  the  remnant  of  Chow,  among  the  black-haired  people, 
There  will  not  be  half  a  man  left.' 

If  it  had  really  been  as  thus  expressed,  then  not  an  individual  of 
the  people  of  Chow  would  have  been  left. 

"  Of  all  that  a  filial  son  can  attain  to,  there  is  nothing  greater 
than  his  honoring  his  parents.     Of  what  can  be  attained  to  in 


THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS  115 

honoring  one's  parents,  there  is  nothing  greater  than  the  nour- 
ishing them  with  the  empire.  To  be  the  father  of  the  son  of 
Heaven  is  the  height  of  honor.  To  be  nourished  with  the  em- 
pire is  the  height  of  nourishment.  In  this  was  verified  the 
sentiment  in  the  '  Book  of  Poetry,' 

'  Ever  thinking  how  to  be  filial, 
His  filial  mind  was  the  model  which  he  supplied.' 

"  In  the  *  Book  of  History  '  it  is  said, '  With  respectful  service 
he  appeared  before  Koo-sovv,  looking  grave  and  awe-struck, 
till  Koo-sow  also  was  transformed  by  his  example.'  This  is 
the  true  case  of  the  scholar  of  complete  virtue  not  being  treated 
as  a  son  by  his  father." 

Wan  Chang  said,  "  It  is  said  that  Yaou  gave  the  empire  to 
Shun  ;  was  it  so?  "  Mencius  replied,  "  No  ;  the  emperor  can- 
not give  the  empire  to  another,"  "  Yes ;  but  Shun  possessed 
the  empire.  Who  gave  it  to  him  ?  "  "  Heaven  gave  it  to 
him,"  was  the  reply. 

"  '  Heaven  ga-"e  it  to  him  ' ;  did  Heaven  confer  the  appoint- 
ment on  him  with  specific  injunctions  ?  ''  Mencius  said,  "  No  ; 
Heaven  does  not  speak.  It  simply  showed  its  will  by  his 
personal  conduct,  and  by  his  conduct  of  afifairs." 

"  *  It  showed  its  will  by  his  personal  conduct,  and  by  his 
conduct  of  afifairs,'"  returned  the  other;  "how  was  this?" 
Mencius  said,  "  The  emperor  can  present  a  man  to  Heaven, 
but  he  cannot  make  Heaven  give  that  man  the  empire.  A 
feudal  prince  can  present  a  man  to  the  emperor  to  take  his 
place,  but  he  cannot  make  the  emperor  give  the  princedom  to 
that  man.  A  great  ofificer  can  present  a  man  to  his  prince,  but 
he  cannot  cause  the  prince  to  make  that  man  a  great  ofificer  in 
his  own  room.  Anciently  Yaou  presented  Shun  to  Heaven, 
and  Heaven  accepted  him  ;  he  displayed  him  to  the  people,  and 
the  people  accepted  him.  Therefore  I  say,  '  Heaven  does  not 
speak.  It  simply  indicated  its  will  by  his  personal  conduct, 
and  by  his  conduct  of  afifairs.'  " 

Chang  said,  "  I  presume  to  ask  how  it  was  that  Yaou  pre- 
sented Shun  to  Heaven,  and  Heaven  accepted  him,  and  dis- 
played him  to  the  people,  and  the  people  accepted  him."  The 
reply  was,  "  He  caused  him  to  preside  over  the  sacrifices,  and  all 
the  Spirits  were  well  pleased  with  them ;  thus  it  was  that 
Heaven  accepted  him.     He  caused  him  to  preside  over  the 


i.i6  THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS 

conduct  of  affairs,  and  afifairs  were  well  administered,  so  that 
all  the  people  reposed  under  him ;  thus  it  was  that  the  people 
accepted  him.  Heaven  gave  the  empire  to  him,  and  the  peo- 
ple gave  it  to  him.  Therefore  I  said,  '  The  emperor  cannot 
give  the  empire  to  another.' 

"  Shun  assisted  Yaou  in  the  government  for  twenty  and 
eight  years ;  this  was  more  than  man  could  have  done,  and 
was  from  Heaven.  When  the  three  years'  mourning  conse- 
quent on  the  death  of  Yaou  were  accomplished.  Shun  withdrew 
from  the  son  of  Yaou  to  the  south  of  the  southern  Ho.  The 
princes  of  the  empire,  however,  repairing  to  court,  went  not  to 
the  son  of  Yaou,  but  to  Shun.  Litigants  went  not  to  the  son 
of  Yaou,  but  to  Shun.  Singers  sang  not  the  son  of  Yaou,  but 
Shun.  Therefore  I  said  that  it  was  Heaven  that  gave  him  the 
empire.  It  was  after  this  that  he  went  to  the  Middle  State,  and 
occupied  the  seat  of  the  son  of  Heaven.  If  he  had  before  these 
things  taken  up  his  residence  in  the  palace  of  Yaou,  and  ap- 
plied pressure  to  his  son,  it  would  have  been  an  act  of  usurpa- 
tion, and  not  the  gift  of  Heaven. 

"  This  view  of  Shun's  obtaining  the  empire  is  in  accordance 
with  what  is  said  in  The  Great  Declaration — '  Heaven  sees  as 
my  people  see,  Heaven  hears  as  my  people  hear.'  " 

Wan  Chang  said,  "  People  say,  '  When  the  disposal  of  the 
empire  came  to  Yu,  his  virtue  was  inferior  to  that  of  Yaou  and 
Shun,  and  he  did  not  transmit  it  to  the  worthiest,  but  to  his 
son.'  Was  it  so?"  Mencius  replied,  "No;  it  was  not  so. 
When  Heaven  gave  the  empire  to  the  worthiest,  it  was  given 
to  the  worthiest ;  when  Heaven  gave  it  to  the  son  of  the  pre- 
ceding emperor,  it  was  given  to  that  son.  Formerly  Shun 
presented  Yu  to  Heaven  for  a  period  of  seventeen  years ;  and 
when  the  three  years'  mourning,  consequent  on  the  death  of 
Shun,  were  accomplished,  Yu  withdrew  from  the  son  of  Yu  to 
Yang-shing.  The  people  of  the  empire  followed  him  as,  after 
the  death  of  Yaou,  they  had  not  followed  his  son,  but  followed 
Shun.  Yu  presented  Yih  to  Heaven  for  a  period  of  seven 
years ;  and  when  the  three  years'  mourning  consequent  on  the 
death  of  Yu  were  accomplished,  Yih  withdrew  from  the  son  of 
Yu  to  the  north  of  Mount  Ke.  The  princes  repairing  to  court, 
and  litigants,  went  not  to  Yih,  but  to  K'e,  saying,  '  He  is  the 
son  of  our  ruler.'  Singers  did  not  sing  Yih,  but  they  sang  K'e, 
saying, '  He  is  the  son  of  our  ruler.' 


THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS  117 

"  That  Tan-choo  was  not  equal  to  his  father,  and  Shun's  son 
also  not  equal  to  his ;  that  Shun  assisted  Yaou,  and  Yu  assisted 
Shun,  for  a  period  of  many  years,  conferring  benefits  on  the 
people  for  a  long  time ;  that  K'e  was  virtuous  and  able,  and 
could  reverently  enter  into  and  continue  the  ways  of  Yu ;  that 
Yih  assisted  Yu  for  a  period  of  a  few  years,  conferring  benefits 
on  the  people  not  for  a  long  time ;  that  the  length  of  time  that 
Shun,  Yu,  and  Yih,  assisted  in  the  government  was  so  different ; 
and  that  the  sons  of  the  emperors  were  one  a  man  of  talents  and 
virtue,  and  the  other  two  inferior  to  their  fathers : — all  these 
things  were  from  Heaven,  and  what  could  not  be  produced  by 
man.  That  which  is  done  without  any  one's  seeming  to  do  it 
is  from  Heaven.  That  which  comes  to  pass  without  any  one's 
seeming  to  bring  it  about  is  from  Heaven. 

"  In  the  case  of  a  private  man's  obtaining  the  empire,  there 
must  be  in  him  virtue  equal  to  that  of  Shun  and  Yu,  and  more- 
over there  must  be  the  presenting  him  to  Heaven  by  the  pre- 
ceding emperor.  It  was  on  this  latter  account  that  Chung-ne 
did  not  obtain  the  kingdom. 

"  When  the  throne  descends  by  natural  succession,  he  who 
is  displaced  by  Heaven  must  be  Hke  Keeh  or  Chow.  It  was  on 
this  account  that  Yih,  E  Yin,  and  the  duke  of  Chow  did  not 
obtain  the  kingdom. 

"  E  Yin  assisted  T'ang  so  that  he  became  sovereign  of  the 
kingdom.  After  the  demise  of  T'ang,  T'ae-ting  having  died 
without  being  appointed  in  his  place,  Wae-ping  reigned  two 
years,  and  Chung-jin  four.  T*ae-Keah  then  was  turning  up- 
side down  the  canons  and  examples  of  T'ang,  and  E  Yin  placed 
him  in  T'ung  for  three  years.  There  he  repented  of  his  errors, 
was  contrite,  and  reformed  himself.  In  T'ung  he  came  to  dwell 
in  benevolence  and  moved  towards  righteousness,  during  those 
three  years  listening  to  the  lessons  given  to  him  by  E  Yin,  after 
which  that  minister  again  returned  with  him  to  Poh. 

"  The  duke  of  Chow's  not  getting  the  kingdom  was  like  that 
of  Yih's  not  getting  the  throne  of  Hea,  or  E  Yin's  that  of  Yin. 

"  Confucius  said,  *  T'ang  and  Yu  resigned  the  throne  to  the 
worthiest ;  the  founders  of  the  Hea,  Yin,  and  Chow  dynasties 
transmitted  it  to  their  sons.  The  principle  of  righteousness 
was  the  same  in  all  the  cases.'  " 

Wan  Chang  asked  Menicus,  saying,  "  People  say  that  E  Yin 
sought  an  introduction  to  T'ang  by  his  knowledge  of  cookery; 


ii8  THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS 

was  it  so  ?  "  Mencius  replied,  "  No,  it  was  not  so.  E  Yin  was 
farming  in  the  lands  of  the  State  of  Sin,  delighting  in  the  prin- 
ciples of  Yaou  and  Shun.  In  any  matter  contrary  to  the  right- 
eousness which  they  prescribed,  or  to  the  course  which  they  en- 
joined, though  he  had  been  salaried  with  the  empire,  he  would 
not  have  regarded  it ;  though  there  had  been  yoked  for  him  a 
thousand  teams,  he  would  not  have  looked  at  them.  In  any 
matter  contrary  to  the  righteousness  which  they  prescribed,  or 
to  the  course  which  they  enjoined,  he  would  not  have  given  nor 
taken  even  a  single  straw. 

"  T'ang  sent  persons  with  presents  of  silk  to  ask  him  to  enter 
his  service.  With  an  air  of  indifference  and  self-satisfaction,  he 
said, '  What  can  I  do  with  these  silks  with  which  T'ang  invites 
me  ?  Is  it  not  best  for  me  to  abide  in  these  channeled  fields, 
and  therein  delight  myself  with  the  principles  of  Yaou  and 
Shun  ?  ' 

"  T'ang  thrice  sent  persons  thus  to  invite  him.  After  this, 
with  the  change  of  purpose  displayed  in  his  countenance,  he 
spoke  in  a  different  style,  saying,  '  Instead  of  abiding  in  the 
channeled  fields,  and  therein  delighting  myself  with  the  princi- 
ples of  Yaou  and  Shun,  had  I  not  better  make  this  ruler  one 
after  the  style  of  Yaou  and  Shun  ?  had  I  not  better  make  this 
people  Hke  the  people  of  Yaou  and  Shun  ?  had  I  not  better  in 
my  own  person  see  these  things  for  myself?  Heaven's  plan  in 
the  production  of  this  people  is  this : — That  they  who  are  first 
informed,  should  instruct  those  who  are  later  in  being  informed, 
and  those  who  first  apprehend  principles  should  instruct  those 
who  are  slower  to  do  so.  I  am  the  one  of  Heaven's  people  who 
have  first  apprehended  ;  I  will  take  these  principles  and  instruct 
this  people  in  them.     If  I  do  not  instruct  them,  who  will  do  so  ?  ' 

"  He  thought  that  among  all  the  people  of  the  kingdom,  even 
the  private  men  and  women,  if  there  were  any  that  did  not  enjoy 
such  benefits  as  Yaou  and  Shun  conferred,  it  was  as  if  he  him- 
self pushed  them  into  a  ditch.  He  took  upon  himself  the  heavy 
charge  of  all  under  Heaven  in  this  way,  and  therefore  he  went 
to  T'ang,  and  pressed  upon  him  the  duty  of  attacking  Hea,  and 
saving  the  people. 

"  I  have  not  heard  of  one  who  bent  himself  and  at  the  same 
time  made  others  straight ;  how  much  less  could  one  disgrace 
himself,  and  thereby  rectify  the  whole  kingdom  ?  The  actions 
of  the  sages  have  been  different.     Some  have  kept  far  away 


THE  SAYINGS  OF  MENCIUS  lil9 

from  oflfice,  and  others  have  drawn  near  to  it ;  some  have  left 
their  offices,  and  others  have  not  done  so ;  that  in  which  these 
different  courses  all  meet,  is  simply  the  keeping  of  their  persons 
pure. 

"  I  have  heard  that  E  Yin  sought  an  introduction  to  T'ang  by 
the  principles  of  Yaou  and  Shun ;  I  have  not  heard  he  did  so 
by  his  knowledge  of  cookery. 

"  In  the  '  Instructions  of  E,'  it  is  said,  '  Heaven,  destroying 
Keeh,  commenced  attacking  him  in  the  palace  of  Muh;  we 
commenced  in  Poh.' " 

Wan  Chang  asked  Mencius,  saying,  "  Some  say  that  Con- 
fucius in  Wei  lived  with  an  ulcer-doctor,  and  in  Ts'e  with  Tseih 
Hwan,  the  chief  of  the  eunuchs;  was  it  so?"  Mencius  said, 
"  No,  it  was  not  so.  Those  are  the  inventions  of  men  fond  of 
strange  things. 

"  In  Wei  he  lived  in  the  house  of  Yen  Ch'ow-yew.  The 
wife  of  the  officer  Mei  and  the  wife  of  Tsze-lu  were  sisters. 
Mei-tsze  spoke  co  Tsze-lu,  saying,  *  If  Confucius  will  lodge 
with  me,  he  may  get  to  be  a  high  noble  of  Wei.'  Tsze-lu  re- 
ported this  to  Confucius,  who  said,  '  That  is  as  ordered  by 
Heaven.'  Confucius  advanced  according  to  propriety,  and 
retired  according  to  righteousness.  In  regard  to  his  obtaining 
office  and  honor  or  not  obtaining  them,  he  said, '  That  is  as  or- 
dered.' But  if  he  had  lodged  with  an  ulcer-doctor  and  with 
Tseih  Hwan,  the  chief  of  the  eunuchs,  that  would  neither  have 
been  according  to  righteousness  nor  any  ordering  of  Heaven. 

"  When  Confucius,  being  dissatisfied  in  Lu  and  Wei,  had 
left  those  States,  he  met  with  the  attempt  of  Hwan,  the  master 
of  the  Horse,  in  Sung,  to  intercept  and  kill  him,  so  that  he  had 
to  pass  through  Sung  in  the  dress  of  a  private  man.  At  that 
time,  though  he  was  in  circumstances  of  distress,  he  lodged  in 
the  house  of  Ching-tsze,  the  minister  of  works,  who  was  then 
a  minister  of  Chow,  the  marquis  of  Ch'in. 

"  I  have  heard  that  ministers  in  the  service  of  a  court  may  be 
known  from  those  to  whom  they  are  hosts,  and  that  ministers 
coming  from  a  distance  may  be  known  from  those  with  whom 
they  lodge.  If  Confucius  had  lodged  with  an  ulcer-doctor  and 
with  Tseih  Hwan,  the  chief  of  the  eunuchs,  how  could  he  have 
been  Confucius  ?  " 

Wan  Chang  asked  Mencius,  saying,  "  Some  say  that  Pih-le 
He  sold  himself  to  a  cattle-keeper  of  Ts'in  for  five  sheepskins, 


I20  THE  SAYINGS   OF  MENCIUS 

and  fed  his  cattle  for  him,  to  seek  an  introduction  to  Duke  Muh 
of  Ts'in ;  is  this  true?"  Mencius  said,  "  No,  it  was  not  so. 
This  is  the  invention  of  some  one  fond  of  strange  things. 

"  Pih-le  He  was  a  man  of  Yu.  The  people  of  Ts'in  by  the 
inducement  of  a  peih  of  Ch'uy-Keih  and  a  team  of  Keuh-ch'an 
horses  were  asking  liberty  to  march  through  Yu  to  attack 
Kwoh.  Kung  Che-k'e  remonstrated  with  the  duke  of  Yu, 
asking  him  not  to  grant  their  request,  but  Pih-le  He  did  not 
remonstrate. 

"  When  he  knew  that  the  duke  of  Yu  was  not  to  be  remon- 
strated with,  and  went  in  consequence  from  that  State  to  Ts'in, 
he  had  reached  the  age  of  seventy.  If  by  that  time  he  did  not 
know  that  it  would  be  a  disgraceful  thing  to  seek  for  an  intro- 
duction to  Duke  Muh  of  Ts'in  by  feeding  cattle,  could  he  be 
called  wise  ?  But  not  remonstrating  where  it  was  of  no  use  to 
remonstrate,  could  he  be  said  not  to  be  wise  ?  Knowing  that 
the  duke  of  Yu  would  be  ruined,  and  leaving  his  State  before 
that  event,  he  could  not  be  said  to  be  not  wise.  As  soon  as  he 
was  advanced  in  Ts'in,  he  knew  that  Duke  Muh  was  one  with 
whom  he  could  have  a  field  for  action,  and  became  chief  minis- 
ter to  him ;  could  he  be  said  to  be  not  wise?  Acting  as  chief 
minister  in  Ts'in,  he  made  his  ruler  distinguished  throughout 
the  kingdom,  and  worthy  to  be  handed  down  to  future  ages ; 
if  he  had  not  been  a  man  of  talents  and  virtue,  could  he  have 
done  this?  As  to  selling  himself  in  order  to  bring  about  the 
destruction  of  his  ruler,  even  a  villager  who  had  a  regard  for 
himself,  would  not  do  such  a  thing ;  and  shall  we  say  that  a  man 
of  talents  and  virtue  did  it?  " 


THE    SHI-KING 

[Metrical  translation  by  James  Legge] 


INTRODUCTION 

THE  wisdom  of  Confucius  as  a  social  reformer,  as  a 
teacher  and  guide  of  the  Chinese  people,  is  shown  in 
many  ways.  He  not  only  gave  them  a  code  of  per- 
sonal deportment,  providing  them  with  rules  for  the  etiquette 
and  ceremony  of  life,  .but  he  instilled  into  them  that  profound 
spirit  of  domestic  piety  which  is  one  of  the  strongest  features 
in  the  Chinese  character.  He  took  measures  to  secure  also  the 
intellectual  cultivation  of  his  followers,  and  his  Five  Canons 
contain  all  the  most  ancient  works  of  Chinese  literature,  in  the 
departments  of  poetry,  history,  philosophy,  and  legislation. 
The  Shi-King  is  a  collection  of  Chinese  poetry  made  by  Con- 
fucius himself.  This  great  anthology  consists  of  more  than 
three  hundred  pieces,  covering  the  whole  range  of  Chinese 
lyric  poetry,  the  oldest  of  which  dates  some  eighteen  centuries 
before  Christ,  while  the  latest  of  the  selections  must  have  been 
written  at  the  beginning  of  the  sixth  century  before  Christ. 
These  poems  are  of  the  highest  interest,  and  even  nowadays 
may  be  read  with  delight  by  Europeans.  The  ballad  and  the 
hymn  are  among  the  earliest  forms  of  national  poetry,  and  the 
contents  of  the  Shi-King  naturally  show  specimens  of  lyric 
poetry  of  this  sort.  We  find  there  not  only  hymns,  but  also 
ballads  of  a  really  fine  and  spirited  character.  Sometimes  the 
poems  celebrate  the  common  pursuits,  occupations,  and  inci- 
dents of  life.  They  rise  to  the  exaltation  of  the  epithalamium, 
or  of  the  vintage  song ;  at  other  times  they  deal  with  sentiment 
and  human  conduct,  being  in  the  highest  degree  sententious 
and  epigrammatic.  We  must  give  the  credit  to  Confucius  of 
having  saved  for  us  the  literature  of  China,  and  of  having  set 
his  people  an  example  in  preserving  the  monuments  of  a  remote 
antiquity.  While  the  literatures  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome 
have  largely  perished  in  the  convulsions  that  followed  the 
breaking  up  of  the  Roman  empire  in  Europe,  when  the  king- 

12.3 


:24 


THE   SHI-KING 


dom  of  China  fell  into  disorder  and  decrepitude  this  one  great 
teacher  stepped  forward  to  save  the  precious  record  of  historic 
fact,  philosophical  thought,  and  of  legislation  as  well  as  poetry, 
from  being  swept  away  by  the  deluge  of  revolution.  Confucius 
showed  his  wisdom  by  the  high  value  he  set  upon  the  poetry 
of  his  native  land,  and  his  name  must  be  set  side  by  side  with 
that  of  the  astute  tyrant  of  Athens  who  collected  the  poems  of 
Homer  and  preserved  them  as  a  precious  heritage  to  the 
Greek  world.  Confucius  has  given  us  his  opinion  with  regard 
to  the  poems  of  the  Shi-King.  No  man,  he  says,  is  worth 
speaking  to  who  has  not  mastered  the  poems  of  an  anthology, 
the  perusal  of  which  elevates  the  mind  and  purifies  it  from  all 
corrupt  thoughts.  Thanks  to  the  work  of  modern  scholar- 
ship, EngHsh  readers  can  now  verify  this  dictum  for  them- 
selves. 

E.  W. 


THE    SHI-KING 


PART  /.—LESSONS  FROM  THE  STATES 

BOOK  I 

THE  ODES  OF  CHOW  AND  THE  SOUTH 

Celebrating  the  Virtue  of  King  Wan's  Bride 

Hark !  from  the  islet  in  the  stream  the  voice 
Of  the  fish-hawks  that  o'er  their  nests  rejoice! 
From  them  our  thoughts  to  that  young  lady  go, 
Modest  and  virtuous,  loth  herself  to  show. 
Where  could  be  found  to  share  our  prince's  state. 
So  fair,  so  virtuous,  and  so  fit  a  mate  ? 

See  how  the  duckweed's  stalks,  or  short  or  long, 

Sway  left  and  right,  as  moves  the  current  strong! 

So  hard  it  was  for  him  the  maid  to  find ! 

By  day,  by  night,  our  prince  with  constant  mind 

Sought  for  her  long,  but  all  his  search  was  vain. 

Awake,  asleep,  he  ever  felt  the  pain 

Of  longing  thought,  as  when  on  restless  bed, 

Tossing  about,  one  turns  his  fevered  head. 

Here  long,  there  short,  afloat  the  duckweed  lies ; 
But  caught  at  last,  we  seize  the  longed-for  prize. 
The  maiden  modest,  virtuous,  coy,  is  found ; 
Strike  every  lute,  and  joyous  welcome  sound. 
Ours  now,  the  duckweed  from  the  stream  we  bear, 
And  cook  to  use  with  other  viands  rare. 
He  has  the  maiden,  modest,  virtuous,  bright ; 
Let  bells  and  drums  proclaim  our  great  delight. 
"5 


,a6  THE  SHI-KING 


Celebrating  the  Industry  of  King  Wan's  Queen 

Sweet  was  the  scene.     The  spreading  dolichos 

Extended  far,  down  to  the  valley's  depths, 

With  leaves  luxuriant.     The  orioles 

Fluttered  around,  and  on  the  bushy  trees 

In  throngs  collected — whence  their  pleasant  notes 

Resounded  far  in  richest  melody. 

The  spreading  dolichos  extended  far, 
Covering  the  valley's  sides,  down  to  its  depths, 
With  leaves  luxuriant  and  dense.     I  cut 
It  down,  then  boiled,  and  from  the  fibres  spun 
Of  cloth,  both  fine  and  coarse,  large  store. 
To  wear,  unwearied  of  such  simple  dress. 

Now  back  to  my  old  home,  my  parents  dear 

To  see,  I  go.     The  matron  I  have  told, 

Who  will  announcement  make.     Meanwhile  my  clothes, 

My  private  clothes  I  wash,  and  rinse  my  robes. 

Which  of  them  need  be  rinsed?  and  which  need  not? 

My  parents  dear  to  visit,  back  I  go. 


In  Praise  of  a  Bride 

Graceful  and  young  the  peach-tree  stands  ; 

How  rich  its  flowers,  all  gleaming  bright! 
This  bride  to  her  new  home  repairs; 

Chamber  and  house  she'll  order  right. 

Graceful  and  young  the  peach-tree  stands ; 

Large  crops  of  fruit  it  soon  will  show. 
This  bride  to  her  new  home  repairs ; 

Chamber  and  house  her  sway  shall  know. 

Graceful  and  young  the  peach-tree  stands, 
Its  foliage  clustering  green  and  full. 

This  bride  to  her  new  home  repairs ; 
Her  household  will  attest  her  rule. 


THE   SHI-KING  u; 


Celebrating  T*ae-Sze*s  Freedom  from  Jealousy 

In  the  South  are  the  trees  whose  branches  are  bent. 
And  droop  in  such  fashion  that  o'er  their  extent 

All  the  dolichos'  creepers  fast  cling. 
See  our  princely  lady,  from  whom  we  have  got 
Rejoicing  that's  endless !     May  her  happy  lot 

And  her  honors  repose  ever  bring! 

In  the  South  are  the  trees  whose  branches  are  bent, 
And  droop  in  such  fashion  that  o'er  their  extent 

All  the  dolichos'  creepers  are  spread. 
See  our  princely  lady,  from  whom  we  have  got 
Rejoicing  that's  endless !     Of  her  happy  lot 

And  her  honors  the  greatness  ne'er  fade ! 

In  the  South  are  the  trees  whose  branches  are  bent. 
And  droop  in  such  fashion  that  o'er  their  extent 

All  the  dolichos'  creepers  entwine. 
See  our  princely  lady,  from  whom  we  have  got 
Rejoicing  that's  endless !     May  her  happy  lot 

And  her  honors  complete  ever  shine ! 


The  Fruitfulness  of  the  Locust 

Ye  locusts,  winged  tribes, 

Gather  in  concord  fine ; 
Well  your  descendants  may 

In  numerous  bright  hosts  shine! 

Ye  locusts,  winged  tribes, 

Your  wings  in  flight  resound ; 

Well  your  descendants  may 
In  endless  lines  be  found ! 

Ye  locusts,  winged  tribes, 
Together  cluster  strong; 

Well  your  descendants  may 
In  swarms  forever  throng! 


128  THE   SHI-KING 


Lamenting  the  Absence  of  a  Cherished  Friend 

Though  small  my  basket,  all  my  toil 
Filled  it  with  mouse-ears  but  in  part. 

I  set  it  on  the  path,  and  sighed 
For  the  dear  master  of  my  heart. 

My  steeds,  o'er-tasked,  their  progress  stayed, 
When  midway  up  that  rocky  height. 

Give  me  a  cup  from  that  gilt  vase — 
When  shall  this  longing  end  in  sight? 

To  mount  that  lofty  ridge  I  drove, 
Until  my  steeds  all  changed  their  hue. 

A  cup  from  that  rhinoceros's  horn 
May  help  my  longing  to  subdue. 

Striving  to  reach  that  flat-topped  hill, 
My  steeds,  worn  out,  relaxed  their  strain ; 

My  driver  also  sank  oppressed: — 
I'll  never  see  my  lord  again ! 


Celebrating  the  Goodness  of  the  Descendants  of  King  Wan 

As  the  feet  of  the  lin,  which  avoid  each  living  thing. 
So  our  prince's  noble  sons  no  harm  to  men  will  bring. 
They  are  the  lin! 

As  the  front  of  the  lin,  never  forward  thrust  in  wrath. 

So  our  prince's  noble  grandsons  of  love  tread  the  path. 

They  are  the  lin! 

As  the  horn  of  the  lin,  flesh-tipped,  no  wound  to  give, 
So  our  prince's  noble  kindred  kindly  with  all  live. 
They  are  the  lin! 

[Note.— The  "  lin  "  is  the  female  of  "  K'e  " —  a  fabulous  animal — 
the  symbol  of  all  goodness  and  benevolence;  having  the  body  of  a 
deer,  the  tail  of  an  ox,  the  hoofs  of  a  horse,  one  horn,  the  scales  of  a 
fish,  etc.  Its  feet  do  not  tread  on  any  living  thing — not  even  on  live 
grass;  it  does  not  butt  with  its  forehead;  and  the  end  of  its  horn  is 
covered  with  flesh — to  show  that,  while  able  for  war,  it  wills  to  have 
peace.  The  "  lin  "  was  supposed  to  appear  inaugurating  a  golden  age, 
but  the  poet  finds  a  better  auspice  of  that  in  the  character  of  Wan's 
family  and  kindred.] 


THE   SHI-KING 


The  Virtuous  Manners  of  the  Young  Women 

High  and  compressed,  the  Southern  trees 

No  shelter  from  the  sun  afford. 
The  girls  free  ramble  by  the  Han, 

But  will  not  hear  enticing  word. 
Like  the  broad  Han  are  they. 

Through  which  one  cannot  dive ; 
And  like  the  Keang's  long  stream, 

Wherewith  no  raft  can  strive. 

Many  the  fagots  bound  and  piled ; 

The  thorns  I'd  hew  still  more  to  make. 
As  brides,  those  girls  their  new  homes  seek ; 

Their  colts  to  feed  I'd  undertake. 
Like  the  broad  Han  are  they, 

Through  which  one  cannot  dive ; 
And  like  the  Keang's  long  stream, 

Wherewith  no  raft  can  strive. 

Many  the  fagots  bound  and  piled ; 

The  Southern-wood  I'd  cut  for  more. 
As  brides,  those  girls  their  new  homes  seek ; 

Food  for  their  colts  I'd  bring  large  store. 
Like  the  broad  Han  are  they. 

Through  which  one  cannot  dive; 
And  like  the  Keang's  long  stream. 

Wherewith  no  raft  can  strive, 


Praise  of  a  Rabbit-Catcher 

Careful  he  sets  his  rabbit-nets  all  round ; 
Chang-chang  his  blows  upon  the  pegs  resound. 
Stalwart  the  man  and  bold !  his  bearing  all 
Shows  he  might  be  his  prince's  shield  and  wall. 

Careful  he  is  his  rabbit-nets  to  place 
Where  many  paths  of  rabbits'  feet  bear  trace. 
Stalwart  the  man  and  bold !  'tis  plain  to  see 
He  to  his  prince  companion  good  would  be. 


129 


130 


THE   SHI-KING 

Careful  he  is  his  rabbit-nets  to  spread, 
Where  in  the  forest's  depth  the  trees  give  shade. 
Stalwart  the  man  and  bold !  fit  his  the  part 
Guide  to  his  prince  to  be,  and  faithful  heart. 


The  Song  of  the  Plantain-Gatherers 

We  gather  and  gather  the  plantains; 

Come  gather  them  anyhow. 
Yes,  gather  and  gather  the  plantains, 

And  here  we  have  got  them  now. 

We  gather  and  gather  the  plantains ; 

Now  off  the  ears  we  must  tear. 
Yes,  gather  and  gather  the  plantains, 

And  now  the  seeds  are  laid  bare. 

We  gather  and  gather  the  plantains, 
The  seeds  in  our  skirts  are  placed. 

Yes,  gather  and  gather  the  plantains. 
Ho !  safe  in  the  girdled  waist ! 


The  Affection  of  the  Wives  on  the  Joe 

Along  the  raised  banks  of  the  Joo, 

To  hew  slim  stem  and  branch  I  wrought. 

My  lord  away,  my  husband  true. 

Like  hunger-pang  my  troubled  thought ! 

Along  the  raised  banks  of  the  Joo, 

Branch  and  fresh  shoot  confessed  my  art. 

I've  seen  my  lord,  my  husband  true. 
And  still  he  folds  me  in  his  heart. 

As  the  toiled  bream  makes  red  its  tail. 
Toil  you,  Sir,  for  the  Royal  House; 

Amidst  its  blazing  fires,  nor  quail : — 
Your  parents  see  you  pay  your  vows. 


BOOK  11 

THE  ODES  OF  SHAOU  AND  THE  SOUTH 

The  Marriage  of  a  Princess 

In  the  magpie's  nest 

Dwells  the  dove  at  rest. 
This  young  bride  goes  to  her  future  home ; 
To  meet  her  a  hundred  chariots  come. 

Of  the  magpie's  nest 

Is  the  dove  possessed. 
This  bride  goes  to  her  new  home  to  live ; 
And  escort  a  hundred  chariots  give. 

The  nest  magpie  wove 

Now  filled  by  the  dove. 
This  bride  now  takes  to  her  home  her  way ; 
And  these  numerous  cars  her  state  display. 

The  Industry  and  Reverence  of  a  Prince's  Wife 

Around  the  pools,  the  islets  o'er, 

Fast  she  plucks  white  Southern-wood, 

To  help  the  sacrificial  store ; 

And  for  our  prince  does  service  good. 

Where  streams  among  the  valleys  shine. 
Of  Southern-woods  she  plucks  the  white ; 

And  brings  it  to  the  sacred  shrine, 
To  aid  our  prince  in  solemn  rite. 

In  head-dress  high,  most  reverent,  she 

The  temple  seeks  at  early  dawn. 
The  service  o'er,  the  head-dress  see 

To  her  own  chamber  slow  withdrawn. 
131 


THE  SHI-KING 


The  Wife  of  Some  Great  Officer  Bewails  His  Absence 

Shrill  chirp  the  insects  in  the  grass ; 

All  about  the  hoppers  spring. 
While  I  my  husband  do  not  see, 
Sorrow  must  my  bosom  wring. 
O  to  meet  him ! 
O  to  greet  him  ! 
Then  my  heart  would  rest  and  sing. 

Ascending  high  that  Southern  hill, 

Turtle  ferns  I  strove  to  get. 
While  I  my  husband  do  not  see. 
Sorrow  must  my  heart  beset. 
O  to  meet  him ! 
O  to  greet  him  ! 
Then  my  heart  would  cease  to  fret. 

Ascending  high  that  Southern  hill, 

Spinous  ferns  I  sought  to  find. 
While  I  my  husband  do  not  see. 
Rankles  sorrow  in  my  mind. 
O  to  meet  him ! 
O  to  greet  him  ! 
In  my  heart  would  peace  be  shrined. 


The  Diligence  of  the  Young  Wife  of  an  Officer 

She  gathers  fast  the  large  duckweed, 

From  valley  stream  that  southward  flows ; 

And  for  the  pondweed  to  the  pools 
Left  on  the  plains  by  floods  she  goes. 

The  plants,  when  closed  her  toil,  she  puts 
In  baskets  round  and  baskets  square. 

Then  home  she  hies  to  cook  her  spoil. 
In  pans  and  tripods  ready  there. 

In  sacred  chamber  this  she  sets, 

Where  the  light  falls  down  through  the  wall. 
'Tis  she,  our  lord's  young  reverent  wife, 

Who  manages  this  service  all. 


THE   SHI-KING  133 


The  Love  of  the  People  for  the  Duke  of  Shaou 

O  fell  not  that  sweet  pear-tree ! 
See  how  its  branches  spread. 
Spoil  not  its  shade, 
For  Shaou's  chief  laid 
Beneath  it  his  weary  head. 

O  clip  not  that  sweet  pear-tree ! 
Each  twig  and  leaflet  spare. 
'Tis  sacred  now, 
Since  the  lord  of  Shaou, 
When  weary,  rested  him  there. 

O  touch  not  that  sweet  pear-tree ! 
Bend  not  a  twig  of  it  now. 
There  long  ago. 
As  the  stories  show, 
Oft  halted  the  chief  of  Shaou. 


The  Easy  Dignity  of  the  Officers  at  Some  Court 

Arrayed  in  skins  of  Iamb  or  sheep, 
With  five  silk  braidings  all  of  white, 

From  court  they  go,  to  take  their  meal. 
All  self-possessed,  with  spirits  light. 

How  on  their  skins  of  lamb  or  sheep 

The  five  seams  wrought  with  white  silk  show ! 

With  easy  steps,  and  self-possessed. 
From  court  to  take  their  meal,  they  go. 

Upon  their  skins  of  lamb  or  sheep 

Shines  the  white  silk  the  seams  to  link. 

With  easy  steps  and  self-possessed. 
They  go  from  court  to  eat  and  drink. 


134  ^HE   SHI-KINCi 


Anxiety  of  a  Young  Lady  to  Get  Married 

Ripe,  the  plums  fall  from  the  bough; 
Only  seven-tenths  left  there  now ! 
Ye  whose  hearts  on  me  are  set. 
Now  the  time  is  fortunate! 

Ripe,  the  plums  fall  from  the  bough ; 
Only  three-tenths  left  there  now ! 
Ye  who  wish  my  love  to  gain, 
Will  not  now  apply  in  vain ! 

No  more  plums  upon  the  bough ! 
All  are  in  my  basket  now ! 
Ye  who  me  with  ardor  seek. 
Need  the  word  but  freely  speak ! 


BOOK   III 

THE  ODES  OF  FEI 

An  Officer  Bewails  the  Neglect  with  which  He  is  Treated 

It  floats  about,  that  boat  of  cypress  wood, 
Now  here,  now  there,  as  by  the  current  borne. 

Nor  rest  nor  sleep  comes  in  my  troubled  mood ; 
I  suffer  as  when  painful  wound  has  torn 
The  shrinking  body.     Thus  I  dwell  forlorn, 

And  aimless  muse,  my  thoughts  of  sorrow  full. 
I  might  with  wine  refresh  my  spirit  worn ; 

I  might  go  forth,  and,  sauntering  try  to  cool 

The  fever  of  my  heart ;  but  grief  holds  sullen  rule. 

My  mind  resembles  not  a  mirror  plate. 

Reflecting  all  the  impressions  it  receives. 
The  good  I  love,  the  bad  regard  with  hate; 

I  only  cherish  whom  my  heart  believes. 

Colleagues  I  have,  but  yet  my  spirit  grieves, 
That  on  their  honor  I  cannot  depend. 

I  speak,  but  my  complaint  no  influence  leaves 
Upon  their  hearts  ;  with  mine  no  feelings  blend ; 
With  me  in  anger  they,  and  fierce  disdain  contend. 

My  mind  is  fixed,  and  cannot,  like  a  stone. 

Be  turned  at  will  indifferently  about ; 
And  what  I  think,  to  that,  and  that  alone, 

I  utterance  give,  alike  within,  without ; 

Nor  can  like  mat  be  rolled  and  carried  out. 
With  dignity  in  presence  of  them  all, 

My  conduct  marked,  my  goodness  who  shall  scout? 
My  foes  I  boldly  challenge,  great  and  small, 
If  there  be  aught  in  me  they  can  in  question  call. 
135 


136  THE   SHI-KING 

How  full  of  trouble  is  my  anxious  heart! 

With  hate  the  blatant  herd  of  creatures  mean 
Ceaseless  pursue.     Of  their  attacks  the  smart 

Keeps  my  mind  in  distress.     Their  venomed  spleen 

Aye  vents  itself;  and  with  insulting  mien 
They  vex  my  soul ;  and  no  one  on  my  side 

A  word  will  speak.     Silent,  alone,  unseen, 
I  think  of  my  sad  case  ;  then  opening  wide 
My  eyes,  as  if  from  sleep,  I  beat  my  breast,  sore-tried. 

Thy  disc,  O  sun,  should  ever  be  complete, 

While  thine,  O  changing  moon,  doth  wax  and  wane. 

But  now  our  sun  hath  waned,  weak  and  elTete, 
And  moons  are  ever  full.     My  heart  with  pain 
Is  firmly  bound,  and  held  in  sorrow's  chain. 

As  to  the  body  cleaves  an  unwashed  dress. 
Silent  I  think  of  my  sad  case ;  in  vain 

I  try  to  find  relief  from  my  distress. 

Would  I  had  wings  to  fly  where  ills  no  longer  press! 


A  Wife  Deplores  the  Absence  of  Her  Husband 

Away  the  startled  pheasant  flies, 
With  lazy  movement  of  his  wings. 

Borne  was  my  heart's  lord  from  my  eyes ; — 
What  pain  the  separation  brings ! 

The  pheasant,  though  no  more  in  view. 
His  cry,  below,  above,  forth  sends. 

Alas !  my  princely  lord,  'tis  you — 
Your  absence,  that  my  bosom  rends. 

At  sun  and  moon  I  sit  and  gaze, 

In  converse  with  my  troubled  heart. 

Far,  far  from  me  my  husband  stays ! 
When  will  he  come  to  heal  its  smart? 

Ye  princely  men  who  with  him  mate. 
Say,  mark  ye  not  his  virtuous  way. 

His  rule  is — covet  nought,  none  hate ; — 
How  can  his  steps  from  goodness  stray? 


THE    SHI-KING  137 


The  Plaint  of  a  Rejected  Wife 

The  east  wind  gently  blows, 

With  cloudy  skies  and  rain. 
'Twixt  man  and  wife  should  ne'er  be  strife, 

But  harmony  obtain. 
Radish  and  mustard  plants 

Are  used,  though  some  be  poor; 
.While  my  good  name  is  free  from  blame. 

Don't  thrust  me  from  your  door. 

I  go  along  the  .oad, 

Slow,  with  reluctant  heart. 
Your  escort  lame  to  door  but  came, 

There  glad  from  me  to  part. 
Sow-thistle,  bitter  called, 

As  shepherd's  purse  is  sweet; 
With  your  new  mate  you  feast  elate. 

As  joyous  brothers  meet. 

Part  clear,  the  stream  of  King 

Is  foul  beside  the  Wei. 
You  feast  elate  with  your  new  mate, 

And  take  no  heed  of  me. 
Loose  mate,  avoid  my  dam, 

Nor  dare  my  basket  move! 
Person  slighted,  life  all  blighted, 

What  can  the  future  prove? 

The  water  deep,  in  boat, 

Or  raft-sustained,  I'd  go ; 
And  where  the  stream  did  narrow  seem, 

I  dived  or  breasted  through. 
I  labored  to  increase 

Our  means,  or  great  or  small ; 
When  'mong  friends  near  death  did  appear. 

On  knees  to  help  I'd  crawl. 

No  cherishing  you  give, 

I'm  hostile  in  your  eyes. 
As  pedler's  wares  for  which  none  cares, 

My  virtues  you  despise. 


138  THE   SHi-KING 

When  poverty  was  nigh, 

I  strove  our  means  to  spare ; 

You,  now  rich  grown,  me  scorn  to  own: 
To  poison  me  compare. 

The  stores  for  winter  piled 

Are  all  unprized  in  spring. 
So  now,  elate  with  your  new  mate, 

Myself  away  you  fling. 
Your  cool  disdain  for  me 

A  bitter  anguish  hath. 
The  early  time,  our  love's  sweet  prime, 

In  you  wakes  only  wrath. 


Soldiers  of  Wei  Bewail  Separation  from  Their  Families 

List  to  the  thunder  and  roll  of  the  drum ! 

See  how  we  spring  and  brandish  the  dart! 
Some  raise  Ts'aou's  walls ;  some  do  field  work  at  home; 

But  we  to  the  southward  lonely  depart. 

Our  chief,  Sun  Tsze-chung,  agreement  has  made, 
Our  forces  to  join  with  Ch'in  and  with  Sung. 

When  shall  we  back  from  this  service  be  led  ? 
Our  hearts  are  all  sad,  our  courage  unstrung. 

Here  we  are  halting,  and  there  we  delay ; 

Anon  we  soon  lose  our  high-mettled  steeds. 
The  forest's  gloom  makes  our  steps  go  astray ; 

Each  thicket  of  trees  our  searching  misleads. 

For  death  as  for  life,  at  home  or  abroad, 

We  pledged  to  our  wives  our  faithfulest  word. 

Their  hands  clasped  in  ours,  together  we  vowed, 
We'd  live  to  old  age  in  sweetest  accord. 

This  march  to  the  South  can  end  but  in  ill ; 

Oh !  never  shall  we  our  wives  again  meet. 
The  word  that  we  pledged  we  cannot  fulfil ; 

Us  home  returning  they  never  will  greet. 


THE    SHI-KING 


An  Officer  tells  of  His  Mean  Employment 

With  mind  indifferent,  things  I  easy  take ; 
In  every  dance  I  prompt  appearance  make: — 
Then,  when  the  sun  is  at  his  topmost  height, 
There,  in  the  place  that  courts  the  pubHc  sight. 

With  figure  large  I  in  the  courtyard  dance. 
And  the  duke  smiles,  when  he  beholds  me  prance. 
A  tiger's  strength  I  have ;  the  steeds  swift  bound ; 
The  reins  as  ribbons  in  my  hands  are  found. 

See  how  I  hold  the  flute  in  my  left  hand ; 
In  right  the  pheasant's  plume,  waved  like  a  wand ; 
With  visage  red,  where  rouge  you  think  to  trace, 
While  the  duke  pleased,  sends  down  the  cup  of  grace ! 

Hazel  on  hills ;  the  ling  in  meadow  damp ; — 
Each  has  its  place,  while  I'm  a  slighted  scamp. 
My  thoughts  go  back  to  th'  early  days  of  Chow, 
And  muse  upon  its  chiefs,  not  equalled  now. 
O  noble  chiefs,  who  then  the  West  adorned. 
Would  ye  have  thus  neglected  me  and  scorned  ? 


An  Officer  Sets  Forth  His  Hard  Lot 

My  way  leads  forth  by  the  gate  on  the  north ; 

My  heart  is  full  of  woe. 
I  hav'n't  a  cent,  begged,  stolen,  or  lent, 
And  friends  forget  me  so. 

So  let  it  be !  'tis  Heaven's  decree. 
What  can  I  say — a  poor  fellow  like  me  ? 

The  King  has  his  throne,  sans  sorrow  or  moan ; 

On  me  fall  all  his  cares. 
And  when  I  come  home,  resolved  not  to  roam. 
Each  one  indignant  stares. 

So  let  it  be !  'tis  Heaven's  decree. 
What  can  I  say — a  poor  fellow  like  me? 


i3d 


14©  THE   SHI-KING 

Each  thing  of  the  King,  and  the  fate  of  the  State, 

On  me  come  more  and  more. 
And  when,  sad  and  worn,  I  come  back  forlorn. 
They  thrust  me  from  the  door. 
So  let  it  be !  'tis  Heaven's  decree. 
What  can  I  say — a  poor  fellow  like  me? 

The  Complaint  of  a  Neglected  Wife 

When  the  upper  robe  is  green, 
With  a  yellow  lining  seen, 
There  we  have  a  certain  token. 
Right  is  wronged  and  order  broken. 
How  can  sorrow  from  my  heart 
In  a  case  like  this  depart  ? 

Color  green  the  robe  displays ; 
Lower  garment  yellow's  blaze. 
Thus  it  is  that  favorite  mean 
In  the  place  of  wife  is  seen. 
Vain  the  conflict  with  my  grief; 
Memory  denies  relief. 

Yes,  'twas  you  the  green  who  dyed. 

You  who  fed  the  favorite's  pride. 

Anger  rises  in  my  heart. 

Pierces  it  as  with  a  dart. 

But  on  ancient  rules  lean  I, 

Lest  to  wrong  my  thoughts  should  fly. 

Fine  or  coarse,  if  thin  the  dress, 
Cold  winds  always  cause  distress. 
Hard  my  lot,  my  sorrow  deep. 
But  my  thoughts  in  check  I  keep. 
Ancient  story  brings  to  mind 
Suflferers  who  were  resigned. 

[Note. — Yellow  is  one  of  the  five  "  correct  "  colors  of  the  Chinese, 
while  green  is  one  of  the  "  intermediate  "  colors  that  are  less  esteemed. 
Here  we  have  the  yellow  used  merely  as  a  lining  to  the  green,  or  em- 
ployed in  the  lower,  or  less  honorable,  part  of  the  dress ; — an  inversion 
of  propriety,  and  intimating  how  a  favorite  had  usurped  the  place  of 
the  rightful  wife  and  thrust  her  down.] 


THE   SHI-KING  141 


In  Praise  of  a  Maiden 

O  sweet  maiden,  so  fair  and  retiring, 
At  the  corner  I'm  waiting  for  you ; 

And  I'm  scratching  my  head,  and  inquiring 
What  on  earth  it  were  best  I  should  do. 

Oh !  the  maiden,  so  handsome  and  coy, 
For  a  pledge  gave  a  slim  rosy  reed. 

Than  the  reed  is  she  brighter,  my  joy ; 
On  her  lovehness  how  my  thoughts  feed ! 

In  the  pastures  a  t'e  blade  she  sought, 
And  she  gave  it,  so  elegant,  rare. 

Oh !  the  grass  does  not  dwell  in  my  thought, 
But  the  donor,  more  elegant,  fair. 


Discontent 

As  when  the  north  winds  keenly  blow. 
And  all  around  fast  falls  the  snow. 
The  source  of  pain  and  suffering  great. 
So  now  it  is  in  Wei's  poor  state. 
Let  us  join  hands  and  haste  away, 

My  friends  and  lovers  all. 
'Tis  not  a  time  will  brook  delay; 

Things  for  prompt  action  call. 

As  when  the  north  winds  whistle  shrill. 
And  drifting  snows  each  hollow  fill, 
The  source  of  pain  and  suffering  great, 
So  now  it  is  in  Wei's  poor  state. 
Let  us  join  hands,  and  leave  for  aye. 

My  friends  and  lovers  all, 
Tis  not  a  time  will  brook  delay; 

Things  for  prompt  action  call. 

We  look  for  red,  and  foxes  meet ; 
For  black,  and  crows  our  vision  greet. 
The  creatures,  both  of  omen  bad, 
Well  suit  the  state  of  Wei  so  sad. 


I4«  THE  SHI-KING 

Let  us  join  hands  and  mount  our  cars, 

My  friends  and  lovers  all. 
No  time  remains  for  wordy  jars; 

Things  for  prompt  action  call. 

Chwang  Keang  Bemoans  Her  Husband's  Cruelty- 
Fierce  is  the  wind  and  cold; 

And  such  is  he. 
Smiling  he  looks,  and  bold 

Speaks  mockingly. 
Scornful  and  lewd  his  words. 

Haughty  his  smile. 
Bound  is  my  heart  with  cords 

In  sorrow's  coil. 

As  cloud  of  dust  wind-blown. 

Just  such  is  he. 
Ready  he  seems  to  own, 

And  come  to  me. 
But  he  comes  not  nor  goes, 

Stands  in  his  pride. 
Long,  long,  with  painful  throes. 

Grieved  I  abide. 

Strong  blew  the  wind ;  the  cloud 

Hastened  away. 
Soon  dark  again,  the  shroud 

Covers  the  day. 
I  wake,  and  sleep  no  more 

Visits  my  eyes. 
His  course  I  sad  deplore. 

With  heavy  sighs. 

Cloudy  the  sky,  and  dark; 

The  thunders  roll. 
Such  outward  signs  well  mark 

My  troubled  soul. 
I  wake,  and  sleep  no  more 

Comes  to  give  rest. 
His  course  I  sad  deplore. 

In  anguished  breast. 


BOOK  VII* 

THE   ODES   OF   CH'ING 

The  People's  Admiration  for  Duke  Woo 

The  black  robes  well  your  form  befit ; 

When  they  are  worn  we'll  make  you  new. 
Now  for  your  court !  oh !  there  we'll  sit, 
And  watch  how  you  your  duties  do. 
And  when  we  to  our  homes  repair, 
We'll  send  to  you  our  richest  fare. 
Such  is  the  love  to  you  we  bear ! 

Those  robes  well  with  your  virtue  match ; 
When  they  are  worn  we'll  make  you  new. 
Now  for  your  court !     There  will  we  watch, 
Well  pleased,  how  you  your  duties  do. 
And  when  we  to  our  homes  repair, 
We'll  send  to  you  our  richest  fare, 
Such  is  the  love  to  you  we  bear! 

Those  robes  your  character  beseem  ; 

When  they  are  worn  we'll  make  you  new. 
Now  for  your  court !  oh !  there  we  deem 
It  pleasure  great  your  form  to  view. 
And  when  we  to  our  homes  repair, 
We'll  send  to  you  our  richest  fare. 
Such  is  the  love  to  you  we  bear! 

A  Wife  Consoled  by  Her  Husband's  Arrival 

Cold  is  the  wind,  fast  falls  the  rain, 

The  cock  aye  shrilly  crows. 
But  I  have  seen  my  lord  again ; — 

Now  must  my  heart  repose. 

*  [Selections  from  Books  IV.,  V.,  and  VI.,  have  been  omitted.— Editok.J 
143 


144 


THE   SHI-KING 

iWhistles  the  wind,  patters  the  rain. 
The  cock's  crow  far  resounds. 

But  I  have  seen  my  lord  again. 
And  healed  are  my  heart's  wounds. 

All's  dark  amid  the  wind  and  rain, 
Ceaseless  the  cock's  clear  voice! 

But  I  have  seen  my  lord  again; — 
Should  not  my  heart  rejoice? 


In  Praise  of  Some  Lady 

There  by  his  side  in  chariot  rideth  she. 

As  lovely  flower  of  the  hibiscus  tree. 

So  fair  her  face  ;  and  when  about  they  wheel. 

Her  girdle  gems  of  Ken  themselves  reveal. 

For  beauty  all  the  House  of  Keang  have  fame ; 

Its  eldest  daughter — she  beseems  her  name. 

There  on  the  path,  close  by  him,  walketh  she. 
Bright  as  the  blossom  of  hibiscus  tree. 
And  fair  her  face ;  and  when  around  they  flit, 
Her  girdle  gems  a  tinkling  sound  emit. 
Among  the  Keang  she  has  distinguished  place, 
For  virtuous  fame  renowned,  and  peerless  grace. 


A  Man's  Praise  of  His  Wife 

My  path  forth  from  the  east  gate  lay. 
Where  cloud-like  moved  the  girls  at  play. 
Numerous  are  they,  as  clouds  so  bright, 
But  not  on  them  my  heart's  thoughts  light. 
Dressed  in  a  thin  white  silk,  with  coififure  gray, 
Is  she,  my  wife,  my  joy  in  life's  low  way. 

Forth  by  the  covering  wall's  high  tower, 

I  went,  and  saw,  like  rush  in  flower. 

Each  flaunting  girl.     Brilliant  are  they, 

But  not  with  them  my  heart's  thoughts  stay. 

In  thin  white  silk,  with  head-dress  madder-dyed. 

Is  she,  my  sole  delight,  'foretime  my  bride. 


THE   SHI-KING 


An  Entreaty 

Along  the  great  highway, 
I  hold  you  by  the  cuff. 

O  spurn  me  not,  I  pray, 

Nor  break  old  friendship  off. 

Along  the  highway  worn, 
I  hold  your  hand  in  mine. 

Do  not  as  vile  m-^  scorn ; 
Your  love  I  can't  resign. 


A  Woman  Scorning  Her  Lover 

O  dear !  that  artful  boy 

Refuses  me  a  word ! 
But,  Sir,  I  shall  enjoy 

My  food,  though  you're  absurd! 

O  dear !  that  artful  boy 
My  table  will  not  share ! 

But,  Sir,  I  shall  enjoy 

My  rest,  though  you're  not  there! 


A  Lady  Mourns  tlie  Absence  of  Her  Student  Lover 

You  student,  with  the  collar  blue, 

Long  pines  my  heart  with  anxious  pain. 

Although  I  do  not  go  to  you. 

Why  from  all  word  do  you  refrain? 

O  you,  with  girdle  strings  of  blue. 
My  thoughts  to  you  forever  roam ! 

Although  I  do  not  go  to  you, 

Yet  why  to  me  should  you  not  come? 

How  reckless  you,  how  light  and  wild. 
There  by  the  tower  upon  the  wall ! 

One  day,  from  sight  of  you  exiled, 
As  long  as  three  long  months  I  call. 
Vol.  IV.— 10 


MS 


BOOK  VIII 

THE  ODES  OF  TS'E 
A  Wife  Urging  Her  Husband  to  Action 

His  lady  to  the  marquis  says, 

"  The  cock  has  crowed ;   'tis  late. 

Get  up,  my  lord,  and  haste  to  court. 
'Tis  full ;  for  you  they  wait." 

She  did  not  hear  the  cock's  shrill  sound. 

Only  the  blueflies  buzzing  round. 

Again  she  wakes  him  with  the  words, 

"  The  east,  my  lord,  is  bright. 
A  crowded  court  your  presence  seeks; 

Get  up  and  hail  the  light." 
'Twas  not  the  dawning  light  which  shone, 
But  that  which  by  the  moon  was  thrown. 

He  sleeping  still,  once  more  she  says, 

"  The  flies  are  buzzing  loud. 
To  lie  and  dream  here  by  your  side 

Were  pleasant,  but  the  crowd 
Of  officers  will  soon  retire ; 
Draw  not  on  you  and  me  their  ire ! " 


The  Folly  of  Useless  Effort 

The  weeds  will  but  the  ranker  grow, 
If  fields  too  large  you  seek  to  till. 

To  try  to  gain  men  far  away 

With  grief  your  toiling  heart  will  fill. 
146 


THE   SHI-KING 

If  fields  too  large  you  seek  to  till, 
The  weeds  will  only  rise  more  strong. 

iTo  try  to  gain  men  far  away 

Will  but  your  heart's  distress  prolong. 

(Things  grow  the  best  when  to  themselves 
Left,  and  to  nature's  vigor  rare. 

How  young  and  tender  is  the  child, 
With  his  twin  tufts  of  falling  hair! 

But  when  you  him  ere  long  behold. 
That  child  shall  cap  of  manhood  wear! 


The  Prince  of  Loo 

A  grand  man  is  the  prince  of  Loo, 

With  person  large  and  high. 
Lofty  his  front  and  suited  to 

The  fine  glance  of  his  eye ! 
Swift  are  his  feet.     In  archery 

What  man  with  him  can  vie? 
With  all  these  goodly  qualities, 

We  see  him  and  we  sigh ! 

Renowned  through  all  the  land  is  he. 

The  nephew  of  our  lord. 
With  clear  and  lovely  eyes,  his  grace 

May  not  be  told  by  word. 
All  day  at  target  practice, 

He'll  never  miss  the  bird. 
Such  is  the  prince  of  Loo,  and  yet 

With  grief  for  him  we're  stirred ! 

All  grace  and  beauty  he  displays. 

High  forehead  and  eyes  bright. 
And  dancing  choice !     His  arrows  all 

The  target  hit  aright. 
Straight  through  they  go,  and  every  one 

Lights  on  the  self-same  spot. 
Rebellion  he  could  well  withstand, 

And  yet  we  mourn  his  lot! 


«47 


BOOK  IX 

THE  ODES   OF  WEI 
On  the  Misgovernment  of  the  State 

A  fruit,  small  as  the  garden  peach, 

May  still  be  used  for  food. 
A  State,  though  poor  as  ours,  might  thrive, 

If  but  its  rule  were  good. 
Our  rule  is  bad,  our  State  is  sad, 

With  mournful  heart  I  grieve. 
All  can  from  instrument  and  voice 

My  mood  of  mind  perceive. 
Who  know  me  not,  with  scornful  thought, 

Deem  me  a  scholar  proud. 
"  Those  men  are  right,"  they  fiercely  say, 

"  What  mean  your  words  so  loud  ?  " 
Deep  in  my  heart  my  sorrows  lie, 

And  none  the  cause  may  know. 
How  should  they  know  who  never  try 

To  learn  whence  comes  our  woe? 

The  garden  jujube,  although  small, 

May  still  be  used  for  food. 
A  State,  though  poor  as  ours,  might  thrive. 

If  but  its  rule  were  good. 
Our  rule  is  bad,  our  State  is  sad, 

With  mournful  heart  I  grieve. 
Methinks  I'll  wander  through  the  land, 

My  misery  to  relieve. 
Who  know  me  not,  with  scornful  thought. 

Deem  that  wild  views  I  hold. 
"  Those  men  are  right,"  they  fiercely  say, 

**  What  mean  your  words  so  bold  ?  " 
„»48 


THE   SHI-KING  149 


Deep  in  my  heart  my  sorrows  lie, 
And  none  the  cause  may  know. 

How  can  they  know,  who  never  try 
To  learn  whence  comes  our  woe? 


The  Mean  Husband 

Thin  cloth  of  dolichos  supplies  the  shoes. 

In  which  some  have  to  brave  the  frost  and  cold. 

A  bride,  when  poor,  her  tender  hands  must  use, 
Her  dress  to  make,  and  the  sharp  needle  hold. 

This  man  is  wealthy,  yet  he  makes  his  bride 
Collars  and  waistbands  for  his  robes  provide. 

Conscious  of  wealth,  he  moves  with  easy  mien; 

Politely  on  the  left  he  takes  his  place; 
The  ivory  pin  is  at  his  girdle  seen : — 

His  dress  and  gait  show  gentlemanly  grace. 
Why  do  we  brand  him  in  our  satire  here? 

'Tis  this — his  niggard  soul  provokes  the  sneec. 


A  Young  Soldier  on  Service 

iTo  the  top  of  that  tree-clad  hill  I  go, 

And  towards  my  father  I  gaze. 
Till  with  my  mind's  eye  his  form  I  espy, 

And  my  mind's  ear  hears  how  he  says:- 
"  Alas  for  my  son  on  service  abroad ! 

He  rests  not  from  morning  till  eve. 
May  he  careful  be  and  come  back  to  me ! 

While  he  is  away,  how  I  grieve !  " 

To  the  top  of  that  barren  hill  I  climb. 

And  towards  my  mother  I  gaze. 
Till  with  my  mind's  eye  her  form  I  espy, 

And  my  mind's  ear  hears  how  she  says:- 
"  Alas  for  my  child  on  service  abroad ! 

He  never  in  sleep  shuts  an  eye. 
May  he  careful  be,  and  come  back  to  me! 

In  the  wild  may  his  body  not  lie ! " 


I50  THE  SHI-KING 

Up  the  lofty  ridge  I,  toiling,  ascend, 

And  towards  my  brother  I  gaze, 
Till  with  my  mind's  eye  his  form  I  espy. 

And  my  mind's  ear  hears  how  he  says: — 
"  Alas !   my  young  brother,  serving  abroad. 

All  day  with  his  comrades  must  roam. 
May  he  careful  be,  and  come  back  to  me. 

And  die  not  away  from  his  home." 


BOOK  X 

THE  ODES  OF  T'ANG 
The  King  Goes  to  War 

The  wild  geese  fly  the  bushy  oaks  around, 

With  clamor  loud.    Suh-suh  their  wings  resound, 

As  for  their  feet  poor  resting-place  is  found. 

The  King's  affairs  admit  of  no  delay. 

Our  millet  still  unsown,  we  haste  away. 

No  food  is  left  our  parents  to  supply ; 

When  we  are  gone,  on  whom  can  they  rely? 

O  azure  Heaven,  that  shinest  there  afar, 

When  shall  our  homes  receive  us  from  the  war? 

The  wild  geese  on  the  bushy  jujube-trees 

Attempt  to  settle  and  are  ill  at  ease ; — 

Suh-suh  their  wings  go  flapping  in  the  breeze. 

The  King's  affairs  admit  of  no  delay ; 

Our  millet  still  unsown,  we  haste  away. 

How  shall  our  parents  their  requirements  get? 

How  in  our  absence  shall  their  wants  be  met? 

O  azure  Heaven,  that  shinest  there  afar. 

When  shall  our  homes  receive  us  from  the  war? 

The  bushy  mulberry-trees  the  geese  in  rows 
Seek  eager  and  to  rest  around  them  close — 
With  rustling  loud,  as  disappointment  grows. 
The  King's  aflfairs  admit  of  no  delay; 
To  plant  our  rice  and  maize  we  cannot  stay. 
How  shall  our  parents  find  their  wonted  food? 
When  we  are  gone,  who  will  to  them  be  good? 
O  azure  Heaven,  that  shinest  there  afar, 
When  shall  our  homes  receive  us  from  the  war? 
151 


152  -        THE   SHI-KING 


Lament  of  a  Bereaved  Person 

A  russet  pear-tree  rises  all  alone, 

But  rich  the  growth  of  leaves  upon  it  shown! 

I  walk  alone,  without  one  brother  left, 

And  thus  of  natural  aid  am  I  bereft. 

Plenty  of  people  there  are  all  around. 

But  none  like  my  own  father's  sons  are  found. 

Ye  travellers,  who  forever  hurry  by. 

Why  on  me  turn  the  unsympathizing  eye  ? 

No  brother  lives  with  whom  my  cause  to  plead ; 

Why  not  perform  for  me  the  helping  deed? 

A  russet  pear-tree  rises  all  alone, 

But  rich  with  verdant  foliage  o'ergrown. 

I  walk  alone,  without  one  brother's  care. 

To  whom  I  might,  amid  my  straits  repair. 

Plenty  of  people  there  are  all  around, 

But  none  like  those  of  my  own  name  are  found. 

Ye  travellers,  who  forever  hurry  by. 

Why  on  me  turn  the  unsympathizing  eye? 

No  brother  lives  with  whom  my  cause  to  plead  ;• 

Why  not  perform  for  me  the  helping  deed? 


The  Drawbacks  of  Poverty 

On  the  left  of  the  way,  a  russet  pear-tree 

Stands  there  all  alone — a  lit  image  of  me. 

There  is  that  princely  man !    O  that  he  would  come, 

And  in  my  poor  dwelling  with  me  be  at  home ! 

In  the  core  of  my  heart  do  I  love  him,  but  say. 

Whence  shall  I  procure  him  the  wants  of  the  day? 

At  the  bend  in  the  way  a  russet  pear-tree 

Stands  there  all  alone — a  fit  image  of  me. 

There  is  that  princely  man !    O  that  he  would  come. 

And  rambling  with  me  be  himself  here  at  home ! 

In  the  core  of  my  heart  I  love  him,  but  say, 

Whence  shall  I  procure  him  the  wants  of  the  day? 


THE   SHI-KING 


»S3 


A  Wife  Mourns  for  Her  Husband 

The  dolichos  grows  and  covers  the  thorn, 
O'er  the  waste  is  the  dragon-plant  creeping. 

The  man  of  my  heart  is  away  and  I  mourn — 
What  home  have  I,  lonely  and  weeping? 

Covering  the  jujubes  the  dolichos  grows, 

The  graves  many  dragon-plants  cover; 
But  where  is  the  man  on  whose  breast  I'd  repose? 

No  home  have  I,  having  no  lover! 

Fair  to  see  was  the  pillow  of  horn, 

And  fair  the  bed-chamber's  adorning; 
But  the  man  of  my  heart  is  not  here,  and  I  mourn 

All  alone,  and  wait  for  the  morning. 

While  the  long  days  of  summer  pass  over  my  head, 
And  long  winter  nights  leave  their  traces, 

I'm  alone !  Till  a  hundred  of  years  shall  have  fled. 
And  then  I  shall  meet  his  embraces. 

Through  the  long  winter  nights  I  am  burdened  with  fears, 
Through  the  long  summer  days  I  am  lonely; 

But  when  time  shall  have  counted  its  hundreds  of  years 
I  then  shall  be  his — and  his  only ! 


BOOK   XI 

THE  ODES  OF  TS'IN 
Celebrating  the  Opulence  of  the  Lords  of  Ts'in 

Our  ruler  to  the  hunt  proceeds; 
And  black  as  iron  are  his  steeds 
That  heed  the  charioteer's  command, 
Who  holds  the  six  reins  in  his  hand. 
His  favorites  follow  to  the  chase, 
Rejoicing  in  his  special  grace. 

The  season's  males,  alarmed,  arise — 
The  season's  males,  of  wondrous  size. 
Driven  by  the  beaters,  forth  they  spring. 
Soon  caught  within  the  hunters'  ring. 
*'  Drive  on  their  left,"  the  ruler  cries ; 
And  to  its  mark  his  arrow  flies. 

The  hunting  done,  northward  he  goes; 
And  in  the  park  the  driver  shows 
The  horses'  points,  and  his  own  skill 
That  rules  and  guides  them  at  his  will. 
Light  cars  whose  teams  small  bells  display, 
[The  long-  and  short-mouthed  dogs  convey. 

A  Complaint 

He  lodged  us  in  a  spacious  house, 
And  plenteous  was  our  fare. 

But  now  at  every  frugal  meal 
There's  not  a  scrap  to  spare. 

Alas !   alas  that  this  good  man 

Could  not  go  on  as  he  began  I 
154 


THE   SHI-KING  155 


A  Wife's  Grief  Because  of  Her  Husband's  Absence 

The  falcon  swiftly  seeks  the  north, 
And  forest  gloom  that  sent  it  forth. 
Since  I  no  more  my  husband  see, 
My  heart  from  grief  is  never  free. 
O  how  is  it,  I  long  to  know. 
That  he,  my  lord,  forgets  me  so? 

Bushy  oaks  on  the  mountain  grow, 
And  six  elms  where  the  ground  is  low. 
But  I,  my  husband  seen  no  more, 
My  sad  and  joyless  fate  deplore. 
O  how  is  it,  I  long  to  know. 
That  he,  my  lord,  forgets  me  so? 

The  hills  the  bushy  wild  plums  show, 
And  pear-trees  grace  the  ground  below. 
But,  with  my  husband  from  me  gone. 
As  drunk  with  grief,  I  dwell  alone. 
O  how  is  it,  I  long  to  know. 
That  he,  my  lord,  forgets  me  so? 


Lament  for  Three  Brothers 

They  flit  about,  the  yellow  birds. 
And  rest  upon  the  jujubes  find. 

Who  buried  were  in  duke  Muh's  grave, 
Alive  to  awful  death  consigned? 

'Mong  brothers  three,  who  met  that  fate, 
'Twas  sad  the  first,  Yen-seih  to  see. 

He  stood  alone ;   a  hundred  men 
Could  show  no  other  such  as  he. 

When  to  the  yawning  grave  he  came, 

Terror  unnerved  and  shook  his  frame. 

Why  thus  destroy  our  noblest  men, 
To  thee  we  cry,  O  azure  Heaven! 

To  save  Yen-seih  from  death,  we  would 
A  hundred  lives  have  freely  given. 


156  THE   SHI-KING 

They  flit  about,  the  yellow  birds. 
And  on  the  mulberry-trees  rest  find. 

Who  buried  were  in  duke  Muh's  grave. 
Alive  to  awful  death  consigned? 

*Mong  brothers  three,  who  met  that  fate,  ^ 
'Twas  sad  the  next,  Chung-hang  to  see. 

When  on  hirh  pressed  a  hundred  men, 
A  match  for  all  of  them  was  he. 

When  to  the  yawning  grave  he  came. 

Terror  unnerved  and  shook  his  frame. 

Why  thus  destroy  our  noblest  men, 

To  thee  we  cry,  O  azure  Heaven! 
To  save  Chung-hang  from  death,  we  would 

A  hundred  lives  have  freely  given. 

They  flit  about,  the  yellow  birds, 

And  rest  upon  the  thorn-trees  find. 
Who  buried  were  in  duke  Muh's  grave. 

Alive  to  awful  death  consigned? 

'Mong  brothers  three,  who  met  that  fate, 
'Twas  sad  the  third,  K'een-foo,  to  see. 

A  hundred  men  in  desperate  fight 
Successfully  withstand  could  he. 

When  to  the  yawning  grave  he  came. 

Terror  unnerved  and  shook  his  frame. 

Why  thus  destroy  our  noblest  men, 

To  thee  we  cry,  O  azure  Heaven ! 
To  save  K'een-foo  from  death,  we  would 

A  hundred  lives  have  freely  given. 

[Note. — The  incident  related  in  this  poem  occurred  in  the  year  B.C. 
620,  when  the  duke  of  Muh  died  after  playing  an  important  part  in  the 
affairs  of  Northwest  China.  Muh  required  the  three  officers  here 
celebrated,  to  be  buried  with  him,  and  according  to  the  "  Historical 
Records  "  this  barbarous  practice  began  with  duke  Ching,  Muh's  prede- 
cessor. In  all,  170  individuals  were  buried  with  Muh.  The  death  of 
the  last  distinguished  man  of  the  Ts'in  dynasty,  the  Emperor  I,  was 
subsequently  celebrated  by  the  entombment  with  him  of  all  the  inmates 
of  his  harem.] 


THE  SHl-KlNG  157 


In  Praise  of  a  Ruler  of  Ts*m 

What  trees  grow  on  the  Chung-nan  hill  ? 

The  white  fir  and  the  plum. 
In  fur  of  fox,  'neath  'broidered  robe, 

Thither  our  prince  is  come. 
His  face  glows  with  vermilion  hue. 

0  may  he  prove  a  ruler  true ! 

What  find  we  on  the  Chung-nan  hill? 

Deep  nook  and  open  glade. 
Our  prince  shows  there  the  double  Ke 

On  lower  robe  displayed. 
His  pendant  holds  each  tinkling  gem. 
Long  life  be  his,  and  deathless  fame! 

The  Generous  Nephew 

1  escorted  my  uncle  to  Tsin, 

Till  the  Wei  we  crossed  on  the  way. 

Then  I  gave  as  I  left 

For  his  carriage  a  gift 
Four  steeds,  and  each  steed  was  a  bay. 

I  escorted  my  uncle  to  Tsin, 

And  I  thought  of  him  much  in  my  heart. 

Pendent  stones,  and  with  them 

Of  fine  jasper  a  gem, 
I  gave,  and  then  saw  him  depart. 


BOOK  XII 

THE  ODES  OF  CHIN 
The  Contentment  of  a  Poor  Recluse 

My  only  door  some  pieces  of  crossed  wood, 

Within  it  I  can  rest  enjoy. 
I  drink  the  water  wimpling  from  the  spring; 

Nor  hunger  can  my  peace  destroy. 

Purged  from  ambition's  aims  I  say,  "  For  fish. 
We  need  not  bream  caught  in  the  Ho; 

Nor,  to  possess  the  sweets  of  love,  require 
To  Ts'e,  to  find  a  Keang,  to  go. 

"  The  man  contented  with  his  lot,  a  meal 
Of  fish  without  Ho  carp  can  make; 

Nor  needs,  to  rest  in  his  domestic  joy, 
A  Tsze  of  Sung  as  wife  to  take." 

The  Disappointed  Lover 

Where  grow  the  willows  near  the  eastern  gate, 
And  'neath  their  leafy  shade  we  could  recline, 

She  said  at  evening  she  would  me  await, 
And  brightly  now  I  see  the  day-star  shine! 

Here  where  the  willows  near  the  eastern  gate 

Grow,  and  their  dense  leaves  make  a  shady  gloom. 

She  said  at  evening  she  would  me  await. 
See  now  the  morning  star  the  sky  illume! 
153 


THE   SHI-KING  159 


A  Love-Song 


I 


The  moon  comes  forth,  bright  in  the  sky; 
A  loveher  sight  to  draw  my  eye 

Is  she,  that  lady  fair. 
She  round  my  heart  has  fixed  love's  chain. 
But  all  my  longings  are  in  vain. 

'Tis  hard  the  grief  to  bear. 

The  moon  comes  forth,  a  splendid  sight ; 
More  winning  far  that  lady  bright. 

Object  of  my  desire ! 
Deep-seated  is  my  anxious  grief; 
In  vain  I  seek  to  find  relief, 

While  glows  the  secret  fire. 

The  rising  moon  shines  mild  and  fair; 
More  bright  is  she,  whose  beauty  rare 

My  heart  with  longing  fills. 
With  eager  wish  I  pine  in  vain; 

0  for  relief  from  constant  pain, 
Which  through  my  bosom  thrills! 

The  Lament  of  a  Lover 

There  where  its  shores  the  marsh  surround. 

Rushes  and  lotus  plants  abound. 

Their  loveliness  brings  to  my  mind 

The  lovelier  one  that  I  would  find. 

In  vain  I  try  to  ease  the  smart 

Of  wounded  love  that  wrings  my  heart. 

In  waking  thought  and  nightly  dreams. 

From  every  pore  the  water  streams. 

All  round  the  marsh's  shores  are  seen 
Valerian  flowers  and  rushes  green. 
But  lovelier  is  that  Beauty  rare, 
Handsome  and  large,  and  tall  and  fair. 

1  wish  and  long  to  call  her  mine. 
Doomed  with  the  longing  still  to  pine. 
Nor  day  nor  night  e'er  brings  relief; 
My  inmost  heart  is  full  of  grief, 


i6o  THE   SHI-KING 

Around  the  marsh,  in  rich  display. 
Grow  rush  and  lotus  flowers,  all  gay. 
But  not  with  her  do  they  compare, 
So  tall  and  large,  majestic,  fair. 
Both  day  and  night,  I  nothing  speed; 
Still  clings  to  me  the  aching  need. 
On  side,  on  back,  on  face,  I  lie, 
But  vain  each  change  of  posture  try. 


BOOK  XIII 

THE  ODES  OF  KWEI 
The  Wish  of  an  Unhappy  Man 

Where  the  grounds  are  wet  and  low. 
There  the  trees  of  goat-peach  grow. 
With  their  branches  small  and  smooth. 
Glossy  in  their  tender  youth. 
Joy  it  were  to  me,  O  tree, 
Consciousness  to  want  like  thee. 

Where  the  grounds  are  wet  and  low, 
There  the  trees  of  goat-peach  grow. 
Soft  and  fragrant  are  their  flowers, 
Glossy  from  the  vernal  showers. 
Joy  it  were  to  me,  O  tree. 
Ties  of  home  to  want  like  thee. 

Where  the  grounds  are  wet  and  low. 
There  the  trees  of  goat-peach  grow, 
What  delicious  fruits  they  bear, 
Glossy,  soft,  of  beauty  rare ! 
Joy  it  were  to  me,  O  tree. 
Household  cares  to  want  like  thee. 


Vol.  IV.— II 


BOOK   XIV 

THE  ODES   OF  TS'AOU 

Against  Frivolous  Pursuits 

Like  splendid  robes  appear  the  wings 

Of  the  ephemeral  fly ; 
And  such  the  pomp  of  those  great  men, 

Which  soon  in  death  shall  lie! 
I  grieve!    Would  they  but  come  to  me! 

To  teach  them  I  should  try. 

The  wings  of  the  ephemeral  fly 

Are  robes  of  colors  gay ; 
And  such  the  glory  of  those  men. 

Soon  crumbling  to  decay  I 
I  grieve !    Would  they  but  rest  with  me. 

They'd  learn  a  better  way! 

The  ephemeral  fly  bursts  from  its  hole. 

With  gauzy  wings  like  snow ; 
So  quick  the  rise,  so  quick  the  fall, 

Of  those  great  men  we  know ! 
I  grieve!    Would  they  but  lodge  with  me, 

Forth  they  would  wiser  go. 


X62 


BOOK  XV 

THE  ODES  OF  PIN 

The  Duke  of  Chow  Tells  of  His  Soldiers 

To  the  hills  of  the  east  we  went, 

And  long  had  we  there  to  remain. 
When  the  word  of  recall  was  sent, 

Thick  and  fast  came  the  drizzling  rain. 
When  told  our  return  we  should  take. 

Our  hearts  in  the  West  were  and  sore  ; 
But  there  did  they  clothes  for  us  make: — 

They  knew  our  hard  service  was  o'er. 
On  the  mulberry  grounds  in  our  sight 

The  large  caterpillars  were  creeping; 
Lonely  and  still  we  passed  the  night, 

All  under  our  carriages  sleeping. 

To  the  hills  of  the  East  we  went. 

And  long  had  we  there  to  remain. 
When  the  word  of  recall  was  sent. 

Thick  and  fast  came  the  drizzling  rain. 
The  heavenly  gourds  rise  to  the  eye. 

With  their  fruit  hanging  under  the  eave. 
In  our  chambers  the  sow-bug  we  spy ; 

Their  webs  on  our  doors  spiders  weave. 
Our  paddocks  seem  crowded  with  deer. 

With  the  glow-worm's  light  all  about. 
Such  thoughts,  while  they  filled  us  with  fear, 

We  tried,  but  in  vain,  to  keep  out. 

To  the  hills  of  the  East  we  went, 
And  long  had  we  there  to  remain. 

When  the  word  of  recall  was  sent, 

Thick  and  fast  came  the  drizzling  rain. 
163 


i64  THE   SHI-KING 

On  ant-hills  screamed  cranes  with  delight; 

In  their  rooms  were  our  wives  sighing  sore. 
Our  homes  they  had  swept  and  made  tight : — 

All  at  once  we  arrived  at  the  door. 
The  bitter  gourds  hanging  are  seen, 

From  branches  of  chestnut-trees  high. 
Three  years  of  toil  away  we  had  been, 

Since  such  a  sight  greeted  the  eye. 

To  the  hills  of  the  East  we  went, 

And  long  had  we  there  to  remain. 
When  the  word  of  recall  was  sent, 

Thick  and  fast  came  the  drizzling  rain. 
With  its  wings  now  here,  and  now  there. 

Is  the  oriole  sporting  in  flight. 
Those  brides  to  their  husbands  repair, 

Their  steeds  red  and  bay,  flecked  with  white. 
Each  mother  has  fitted  each  sash ; 

Their  equipments  are  full  and  complete; 
But  fresh  unions,  whatever  their  dash, 

Can  ne'er  with  reunions  compete. 


There  is  a  Proper  Way  for  Doing  Everything 

In  hewing  an  axe-shaft,  how  must  you  act? 

Another  axe  take,  or  you'll  never  succeed. 
In  taking  a  wife,  be  sure  'tis  a  fact, 

That  with  no  go-between  you  never  can  speed. 

In  hewing  an  axe-shaft,  hewing  a  shaft. 
For  a  copy  you  have  the  axe  in  your  hand. 

In  choosing  a  wife,  you  follow  the  craft. 
And  forthwith  on  the  mats  the  feast-vessels  stand. 


PART  I L— MINOR   ODES  OF  THE  KINGDOM 

BOOK    I 

DECADE   OF  LUH   MING 
A  Festal  Ode 

With  sounds  of  happiness  the  deer 

Browse  on  the  celery  of  the  meads. 
A  nobler  feast  is  furnished  here, 

With  guests  renowned  for  noble  deeds. 
The  lutes  are  struck ;  the  organ  blows, 

Till  all  its  tongues  in  movement  heave. 
Each  basket  loaded  stands,  and  shows 

The  precious  gifts  the  guests  receive. 
They  love  me  and  my  mind  will  teach, 
How  duty's  highest  aim  to  reach. 

With  sounds  of  happiness  the  deer 

The  southern-wood  crop  in  the  meads. 
What  noble  guests  surround  me  here. 

Distinguished  for  their  worthy  deeds! 
From  them  my  people  learn  to  fly 

Whate'er  is  mean ;  to  chiefs  they  give 
A  model  and  a  pattern  high ; — 

They  show  the  life  they  ought  to  live. 
Then  fill  their  cups  with  spirits  rare. 
Till  each  the  banquet's  joy  shall  share. 

With  sounds  of  happiness  the  deer 

The  salsola  crop  in  the  fields. 
What  noble  guests  surround  me  here! 

Each  lute  for  them  its  music  yields. 
Sound,  sound  the  lutes,  or  great  or  small, 

The  joy  harmonious  to  prolong; — 
165 


i66  THE   SHI-KING 

And  with  my  spirits  rich  crown  all 

The  cups  to  cheer  the  festive  throng. 
Let  each  retire  with  gladdened  heart, 
In  his  own  sphere  to  play  his  part. 


A  Festal  Ode  Complimenting  an  Officer 

On  dashed  my  four  steeds,  without  halt,  without  stay, 
Though  toilsome  and  winding  from  Chow  was  the  way. 
I  wished  to  return — but  the  monarch's  command 
Forbade  that  his  business  be  done  with  slack  hand; 
And  my  heart  was  with  sadness  oppressed. 

On  dashed  my  four  steeds ;   I  ne'er  slackened  the  reins. 
They  snorted  and  panted — all  white,  with  black  manes. 
I  wished  to  return,  but  our  sovereign's  command 
Forbade  that  his  business  be  done  with  slack  hand ; — 
And  I  dared  not  to  pause  or  to  rest. 

Unresting  the  Filial  doves  speed  in  their  flight, 
Ascending,  then  sweeping  swift  down  from  the  height, 
Now  grouped  on  the  oaks.     The  king's  high  command 
Forbade  that  his  business  be  done  with  slack  hand ; — 
And  my  father  I  left,  sore  distressed. 

Unresting  the  Filial  doves  speed  in  their  flight, 
Now  fanning  the  air  and  anon  they  alight 
On  the  medlars  thick  grouped.     But  our  monarch's  command 
Forbade  that  his  business  be  done  with  slack  hand ; — 
Of  my  mother  I  thought  with  sad  breast. 

My  four  steeds  I  harnessed,  all  white  and  black-maned, 
Which  straight  on  their  way,  fleet  and  emulous  strained. 
I  wished  to  return ;   and  now  venture  in  song 
The  wish  to  express,  and  announce  how  I  long 
For  my  mother  my  care  to  attest. 

[Note.— Both  Maou  and  Choo  agree  that  this  ode  was  composed  in 
honor  of  the  officer  who  narrates  the  story  in  it,  aUhough  they  say  it 
was  not  written  by  the  officer  himself,  but  was  put  into  his  mouth,  as 
it  were,  to  express  the  sympathy  of  his  entertainer  with  him,  and  the 
appreciation  of  his  devotion  to  duty.] 


THE    SHI-KING  167 


The  Value  of  Friendship 

The  woodmen's  blows  responsive  ring, 

As  on  the  trees  they  fall ; 
And  when  the  birds  their  sweet  notes  sing, 

They  to  each  other  call. 
From  the  dark  valley  comes  a  bird, 

And  seeks  the  lofty  tree. 
Ying  goes  its  voice,  and  thus  it  cries, 

"  Companion,  come  to  me." 
The  bird,  although  a  creature  small. 

Upon  its  mate  depends  ; 
And  shall  we  men,  who  rank  o'er  all. 

Not  seek  to  have  our  friends? 
All  spirits  love  the  friendly  man. 

And  hearken  to  his  prayer. 
What  harmony  and  peace  they  can 

Bestow,  his  lot  shall  share. 

Hoo-hoo  the  woodmen  all  unite 

To  shout,  as  trees  they  fell. 
They  do  their  work  with  all  their  might ; — 

What  I  have  done  I'll  tell. 
I've  strained  and  made  my  spirits  clear. 

The  fatted  lambs  I've  killed. 
With  friends  who  my  own  surname  bear, 

My  hall  I've  largely  filled. 
Some  may  be  absent,  casually, 

And  leave  a  broken  line ; 
But  better  this  than  absence  by 

An  oversight  of  mine. 
My  court  I've  sprinkled  and  swept  clean, 

Viands  in  order  set. 
Eight  dishes  loaded  stand  with  grain ; 

There's  store  of  fatted  meat. 
My  mother's  kith  and  kin  I'm  sure 

I've  widely  called  by  name. 
That  some  be  hindered  better  is 

Than  I  give  cause  for  blame. 


i68  THE   SHI-KING 

On  the  hill-side  the  trees  they  fell, 

All  working  with  good-will. 
I  labor  too,  with  equal  zeal. 

And  the  host's  part  fulfil. 
Spirits  I've  set  in  order  meet, 

The  dishes  stand  in  rows. 
The  guests  are  here;    no  vacant  seat 

A  brother  absent  shows. 
The  loss  of  kindly  feeling  oft 

From  slightest  things  shall  grow. 
Where  all  the  fare  is  dry  and  spare, 

Resentments  fierce  may  glow. 
My  store  of  spirits  is  well  strained, 

If  short  prove  the  supply, 
My  messengers  I  straightway  send. 

And  what  is  needed  buy. 
I  beat  the  drums,  and  in  the  dance 

Lead  joyously  the  train. 
Oh !  good  it  is,  when  falls  the  chance 

The  sparkling  cup  to  drain. 


The  Response  to  a  Festal  Ode 

Heaven  shields  and  sets  thee  fast. 
It  round  thee  fair  has  cast 

Thy  virtue  pure. 
Thus  richest  joy  is  thine; — 
Increase  of  com  and  wine. 
And  every  gift  divine, 

Abundant,  sure. 

Heaven  shields  and  sets  thee  fast. 
From  it  thou  goodness  hast; 

Right  are  thy  ways. 
Its  choicest  gifts  'twill  pour. 
That  last  for  evermore, 
Nor  time  exhaust  the  store 

Through  endless  days. 


THE   SHI-KING  169 

Heaven  shields  and  sets  thee  fast, 
Makes  thine  endeavor  last 

And  prosper  well. 
Like  hills  and  mountains  high, 
Whose  masses  touch  the  sky; 
Like  streams  aye  surging  by; 

Thine  increase  swell ! 

With  rite  and  auspice  fair. 
Thine  offerings  thou  dost  bear, 

And  son-like  give, 
The  season's  round  from  spring. 
To  olden  duke  and  king, 
Whose  words  to  thee  we  bring: — 

"  Forever  live." 

The  spirits  of  thy  dead 
Pour  blessings  on  thy  head. 

Unnumbered  sweet. 
Thy  subjects,  simple,  good. 
Enjoy  their  drink  and  food. 
Our  tribes  of  every  blood 

Follow  thy  feet. 

Like  moons  that  wax  in  light ; 
Or  suns  that  scale  the  height; 

Or  ageless  hill ; 
Nor  change,  nor  autumn  know; 
As  pine  and  cypress  grow ; 
The  sons  that  from  thee  flow 

Be  lasting  still ! 


An  Ode  of  Congratulation 

The  russet  pear-tree  stands  there  all  alone ; 
How  bright  the  growth  of  fruit  upon  it  shown! 
The  King's  affairs  no  stinting  hands  require, 
And  days  prolonged  still  mock  our  fond  desire. 
But  time  has  brought  the  tenth  month  of  the  year; 
My  woman's  heart  is  torn  with  wound  severe. 
Surely  my  warrior  lord  might  now  appear! 


170  THE   SHI-KING 

The  russet  pear-tree  stands  there  all  alone ; 
How  dense  the  leafy  shade  all  o'er  it  thrown! 
The  King's  affairs  require  no  slackening  hand, 
And  our  sad  hearts  their  feelings  can't  command. 
The  plants  and  trees  in  beauty  shine ;   'tis  spring. 
From  off  my  heart  its  gloom  I  fain  would  fling. 
This  season  well  my  warrior  home  may  bring! 

I  climbed  that  northern  hill,  and  medlars  sought ; 
The  spring  nigh  o'er,  to  ripeness  they  were  brought. 
"  The  King's  affairs  cannot  be  slackly  done  "  ; — 
'Tis  thus  our  parents  mourn  their  absent  son. 
But  now  his  sandal  car  must  broken  be; 
I  seem  his  powerful  steeds  worn  out  to  see. 
Relief  has  gone !    He  can't  be  far  from  me ! 

Alas !    they  can't  have  marched ;   they  don't  arrive  I 
More  hard  it  grows  with  my  distress  to  strive. 
The  time  is  passed,  and  still  he  is  not  here! 
My  sorrows  multiply;    great  is  my  fear. 
But  lo!   by  reeds  and  shell  I  have  divined, 
That  he  is  near,  they  both  assure  my  mind ; — 
Soon  at  my  side  my  warrior  I  shall  find ! 


An  Ode  on  the  Return  of  the  Troops 

Forth  from  the  city  in  our  cars  we  drove, 

Until  we  halted  at  the  pasture  ground. 
The  general  came,  and  there  with  ardor  strove 

A  note  of  zeal  throughout  the  host  to  sound. 

"  Direct  from  court  I  come,  by  orders  bound 
The  march  to  hasten  "  ; — it  was  thus  he  spake. 

Then  with  the  carriage-officers  around. 
He  strictly  charged  them  quick  despatch  to  make: — 
"  Urgent  the  King's  affairs,  forthwith  the  field  we  take.' 

While  there  we  stopped,  the  second  corps  appeared, 
And  'twixt  us  and  the  city  took  its  place. 

The  guiding  standard  was  on  high  upreared, 
Where  twining  snakes  the  tortoises  embrace, 
While  oxtails,  crest-like,  did  the  staff's  top  grace. 

We  watched  the  sheet  unfolding  grandly  wave ; 
Each  flag  around  showed  falcons  on  its  face. 


THE    SHI-KING  171 

With  anxious  care  looked  on  our  leader  brave; 
Watchful  the  carriage-officers  appeared  and  grave. 

Nan  Chung,  our  chief,  had  heard  the  royal  call 

To  go  where  inroad  by  Heen-yuns  was  made, 
And  'cross  the  frontier  build  a  barrier  wall. 

Numerous  his  chariots,  splendidly  arrayed ! 

The  standards — this  where  dragons  were  displayed, 
And  that  where  snakes  round  tortoises  were  coiled — 

Terrific  flew.     "  Northward  our  host,"  he  said, 
"  Heaven's  son  sends  forth  to  tame  the  Heen-yun  wild." 
Soon  by  this  awful  chief  would  all  their  tribes  be  foiled. 

When  first  we  took  the  field,  and  northward  went, 

The  millet  was  in  flower  ; — a  prospect  sweet. 
Now  when  our  weary  steps  are  homeward  bent, 

The  snow  falls  fast,  the  mire  impedes  our  feet. 

Many  the  hardships  we  were  called  to  meet. 
Ere  the  King's  orders  we  had  all  fulfilled. 

No  rest  we  had ;   often  our  friends  to  greet 
The  longing  came ;  but  vain  regrets  we  stilled ; 
By  tablets  stern  our  hearts  with  fresh  resolve  were  thrilled. 

"  Incessant  chirp  the  insects  in  the  grass ; 

All  round  about  the  nimble  hoppers  spring. 
From  them  our  thoughts  quick  to  our  husbands  pass, 

Although  those  thoughts  our  hearts  with  anguish  wring. 

Oh!   could  we  see  them,  what  relief  'twould  bring! 
Our  hearts,  rejoiced,  at  once  would  feel  at  rest." 

Thus  did  our  wives,  their  case  deploring,  sing; 
The  while  our  leader  farther  on  had  pressed, 
And  smitten  with  his  power  the  wald  Jung  of  the  west. 

The  spring  days  now  are  lengthening  out  their  light; 

The  plants  and  trees  are  dressed  in  living  green ; 
The  orioles  resting  sing,  or  wing  their  flight ; 

Our  wives  amid  the  southern-wood  are  seen, 

Which  white  they  bring,  to  feed  their  silkworms  keen. 
Our  host,  returned,  sweeps  onwards  to  the  hall. 

Where  chiefs  are  questioned,  shown  the  captives  mean 
Nan  Chung,  majestic,  draws  the  gaze  of  all, 
Proud  o'er  the  barbarous  foe  his  victories  to  recall. 


BOOK  II 

THE  DECADE  OF  PIH  H'WA 
An  Ode  Appropriate  to  a  Festivity 

The  dew  lies  heavy  all  around, 

Nor,  till  the  sun  shines,  leaves  the  ground. 

Far  into  night  we  feasting  sit ; 

We  drink,  and  none  his  place  may  quit. 

The  dew  lies  heavy,  and  its  gems 
Stud  the  luxuriant,  grassy  stems. 
The  happy  night  with  wassail  rings; 
So  feasted  here  the  former  kings. 

The  jujube  and  the  willow-tree 
All  fretted  with  the  dew  we  see. 
Each  guest's  a  prince  of  noble  line. 
In  whom  the  virtues  all  combine. 

The  t'ung  and  e  their  fruits  display, 
Pendant  from  every  graceful  spray. 
My  guests  are  joyous  and  serene, 
No  haggard  eye,  no  ruffled  mien. 


172 


BOOK    III 

THE  DECADE  OF  T'UNG  KUNG 
Celebrating  a  Hunting  Expedition 

Our  chariots  were  well-built  and  firm, 

Well-matched  our  steeds,  and  fleet  and  strong. 

Four,  sleek  and  large,  each  chariot  drew, 
And  eastward  thus  we  drove  along. 

Our  hunting  cars  were  light  and  good, 
Each  with  its  team  of  noble  steeds. 

Still  further  east  we  took  the  way 

To  Foo-mere's  grassy  plains  that  leads. 

Loud-voiced,  the  masters  of  the  chase 
Arranged  the  huntsmen,  high  and  low. 

While  banners  streamed,  and  ox-tails  flew, 
We  sought  the  prey  on  distant  Gaou. 

Each  with  full  team,  the  princes  came, 
A  lengthened  train  in  bright  array. 

In  gold-wrought  slippers,  knee-caps  red, 
They  looked  as  on  an  audience  day. 

Each  right  thumb  wore  the  metal  guard; 

On  the  left  arm  its  shield  was  bound. 
In  unison  the  arrows  flew ; 

The  game  lay  piled  upon  the  ground. 

The  leaders  of  the  tawny  teams 

Sped  on  their  course,  direct  and  true. 

The  drivers  perfect  skill  displayed ; 
Like  blow  well  aimed  each  arrow  flew. 
173 


174 


THE   SHI-KING 

Neighing  and  pleased,  the  steeds  returned ; 

The  bannered  hnes  back  slowly  came. 
No  jostling  rude  disgraced  the  crowd; 

The  king  declined  large  share  of  game. 

So  did  this  famous  hunt  proceed! 

So  free  it  was  from  clamorous  sound! 
Well  does  our  King  become  his  place. 

And  high  the  deeds  his  reign  have  crowned! 


The  King»s  Anxiety  for  His  Morning  Levee 

How  goes  the  night?    For  heavy  morning  sleep 
111  suits  the  king  who  men  would  loyal  keep. 
The  courtyard,  ruddy  with  the  torch's  light. 
Proclaims  unspent  the  deepest  hour  of  night. 
Already  near  the  gate  my  lords  appear; 
Their  tinkling  bells  salute  my  wakeful  ear. 

How  goes  the  night?    I  may  not  slumber  on. 

Although  not  yet  the  night  is  wholly  gone. 

The  paling  torch-light  in  the  court  below 

Gives  token  that  the  hours  swift- footed  go. 

Already  at  the  gate  my  lords  appear; 

Their  tinkling  bells  with  measured  sound  draw  near. 

How  goes  the  night  ?    I  may  not  slumber  now. 
The  darkness  smiles  with  morning  on  its  brow. 
The  courtyard  torch  no  more  gives  forth  its  ray. 
But  heralds  wdth  its  smoke  the  coming  day. 
My  princes  pass  the  gate,  and  gather  there; 
I  see  their  banners  floating  in  the  air. 


Moral  Lessons  from  Natural  Facts 

All  true  words  fly,  as  from  yon  reedy  marsh 
The  crane  rings  o'er  the  wild  its  screaming  harsh. 
Vainly  you  try  reason  in  chains  to  keep; — 
Freely  it  moves  as  fish  sweeps  through  the  deep. 


THE   SHI-KING  175 

Hate  follows  love,  as  'neath  those  sandal-trees 
The  withered  leaves  the  eager  searcher  sees. 
The  hurtful  ne'er  without  some  good  was  born ; — 
The  stones  that  mar  the  hill  will  grind  the  corn. 

All  true  words  spread,  as  from  the  marsh's  eye 
The  crane's  sonorous  note  ascends  the  sky. 
Goodness  throughout  the  widest  sphere  abides, 
As  fish  round  isle  and  through  the  ocean  glides. 
And  lesser  good  near  greater  you  shall  see. 
As  grows  the  paper  shrub  'neath  sandal-tree. 
And  good  emerges  from  what  man  condemns; — 
Those  stones  that  mar  the  hill  will  polish  gems. 


BOOK  IV 

THE  DECADE  OF  K'E-FOO 
On  the  Completion  of  a  Royal  Palace 

On  yonder  banks  a  palace,  lo!   upshoots, 
The  tender  blue  of  southern  hill  behind ; 

Firm- founded,  like  the  bamboo's  clamping  roots; 
Its  roof  made  pine-like,  to  a  point  defined. 

Fraternal  love  here  bears  its  precious  fruits. 
And  unfraternal  schemes  be  ne'er  designed! 

Ancestral  sway  is  his.     The  walls  they  rear. 

Five  thousand  cubits  long;   and  south  and  west 

The  doors  are  placed.    Here  will  the  king  appear, 
Here  laugh,  here  talk,  here  sit  him  down  and  rest. 

To  mould  the  walls,  the  frames  they  firmly  tie ; 

The  toiling  builders  beat  the  earth  and  lime. 
The  walls  shall  vermin,  storm,  and  bird  defy; — 

Fit  dwelling  is  it  for  his  lordly  prime. 

Grand  is  the  hall  the  noble  lord  ascends ; — 

In  height,  like  human  form  most  reverent,  grand; 

And  straight,  as  flies  the  shaft  when  bow  unbends ; 
Its  tints,  like  hues  when  pheasant's  wings  expand. 

High  pillars  rise  the  level  court  around; 

The  pleasant  light  the  open  chamber  steeps; 
And  deep  recesses,  wide  alcoves,  are  found. 

Where  our  good  king  in  perfect  quiet  sleeps. 

Laid  is  the  bamboo  mat  on  rush  mat  square ; — 
Here  shall  he  sleep,  and,  waking,  say,  "  Divine 
What  dreams  are  good  ?    For  bear  and  grizzly  bear, 
And  snakes  and  cobras,  haunt  this  couch  of  mine." 
176 


THE    SHI-KING  177 

Then  shall  the  chief  diviner  glad  reply, 

"  The  bears  foreshow  that  Heaven  will  send  you  sons. 
The  snakes  and  cobras  daughters  prophesy. 

These  auguries  are  all  auspicious  ones. 

"  Sons  shall  be  his — on  couches  lulled  to  rest. 

The  little  ones,  enrobed,  with  sceptres  play; 
Their  infant  cries  are  loud  as  stern  behest ; 

Their  knees  the  vermeil  covers  shall  display. 
As  king  hereafter  one  shall  be  addressed ; 

The  rest,  our  princes,  all  the  States  shall  sway. 

"  And  daughters  also  to  him  shall  be  born. 

They  shall  be  placed  upon  the  ground  to  sleep ; 
Their  playthings  tiles,  their  dress  the  simplest  worn; 

Their  part  alike  from  good  and  ill  to  keep. 
And  ne'er  their  parents'  hearts  to  cause  to  mourn ; 

To  cook  the  food,  and  spirit-malt  to  steep." 


The  Condition  of  King  Seuen's  Flocks 

Who  dares  to  say  your  sheep  are  few? 

The  flocks  are  all  three  hundred  strong. 
Who  dares  despise  your  cattle  too? 

There  ninety,  black-lipped,  press  along. 
Though  horned  the  sheep,  yet  peaceful  each  appears; 
The  cattle  come  with  moist  and  flapping  ears. 

These  climb  the  heights,  those  drink  the  pool; 

Some  lie  at  rest,  while  others  roam. 
With  rain-coats,  and  thin  splint  hats  cool. 

And  bearing  food,  your  herdsmen  come. 
In  thirties,  ranged  by  hues,  the  creatures  stand; 
Fit  victims  they  will  yield  at  your  command. 

Your  herdsmen  twigs  and  fagots  bring. 
With  prey  of  birds  and  beasts  for  food. 

Your  sheep,  untouched  by  evil  thing, 
Approach,  their  health  and  vigor  good. 

The  herdsman's  waving  hand  they  all  behold, 

And  docile  come,  and  pass  into  the  fold. 
Vol.  IV.— 12 


i-jB  THE   SHI-KING 

Your  herdsmen  dream ; — fish  take  the  place 
Of  men ;    on  banners  falcons  fly, 

Displacing  snakes  and  tortoises. 
The  augur  tells  his  prophecy : — 

"  The  first  betoken  plenteous  years  ;  the  change 

Of  banners  shows  of  homes  a  widening  range." 


BOOK  V 

THE  DECADE  OF   SEAOU  MIN 
A  Eunuch  Complains  of  His  Fate 

A  few  fine  lines,  at  random  drawn, 
Like  the  shell-pattern  wrought  in  lawn 

To  hasty  glance  will  seem. 
My  trivial  faults  base  slander's  slime 
Distorted  into  foulest  crime, 

And  men  me  worthless  deem. 

A  few  small  points,  pricked  down  on  wood, 
May  be  made  out  a  picture  good 

Of  the  bright  Southern  Sieve. 
Who  planned,  and  helped  those  slanderers  vile. 
My  name  with  base  lies  to  defile? 

Unpitied,  here  I  grieve. 

With  babbling  tongues  you  go  about. 
And  only  scheme  how  to  make  out 

The  lies  you  scatter  round. 
Hear  me — Be  careful  what  you  say ; 
People  ere  long  your  words  will  weigh. 

And  liars  you'll  be  found. 

Clever  you  are  with  changeful  schemes? 
How  else  could  all  your  evil  dreams 

And  slanders  work  their  way? 
Men  now  believe  you ;  by  and  by, 
The  truth  found  out,  each  vicious  He 

Will  ill  for  ill  repay. 

The  proud  rejoice ;    the  sufferer  weeps. 
O  azure  Heaven,  from  out  thy  deeps 
179 


i8o  THE   SHI-KING 

Why  look  in  silence  down? 
Behold  those  proud  men  and  rebuke ; 
With  pity  on  the  sufferers  look, 

And  on  the  evil  frown. 

Those  slanderers  I  would  gladly  take. 
With  all  who  help  their  schemes  to  make. 

And  to  the  tigers  throw. 
If  wolves  and  tigers  such  should  spare, 
I'd  hurl  them  'midst  the  freezing  air, 

Where  the  keen  north  winds  blow. 
And  should  the  North  compassion  feel 
I'd  fling  them  to  great  Heaven,  to  deal 

On  them  its  direst  woe. 

As  on  the  sacred  heights  you  dwell. 
My  place  is  in  the  willow  dell, 

One  is  the  other  near. 
Before  you,  officers,  I  spread 
These  lines  by  me,  poor  eunuch,  made. 

Think  not  Mang-tsze  severe. 


An  Officer  Deplores  the  Misery  of  the  Time 

In  the  fourth  month  summer  shines; 
In  the  sixth  the  heat  declines. 
Nature  thus  grants  men  relief ; 
Tyranny  gives  only  grief. 
Were  not  my  forefathers  men? 
Can  my  suffering  'scape  their  ken? 

In  the  cold  of  autumn  days 
Each  plant  shrivels  and  decays. 
Nature  then  is  hard  and  stern; 
Living  things  sad  lessons  learn. 
Friends  dispersed,  all  order  gone, 
Place  of  refuge  have  I  none. 

Winter  days  are  wild  and  fierce; 
Rapid  gusts  each  crevice  pierce. 
Such  is  my  unhappy  lot, 
Unbefriended  and  forgot! 


THE   SHI-KING  iSi 

Others  all  can  happy  be; 
I  from  misery  ne'er  am  free. 

On  the  mountains  are  fine  trees; 
Chestnuts,  plum-trees,  there  one  sees. 
All  the  year  their  forms  they  show ; 
Stately  more  and  more  they  grow. 
Noble  turned  to  ravening  thief! 
What  the  cause?    This  stirs  my  grief. 

Waters  from  that  spring  appear 
Sometimes  foul,  and  sometimes  clear, 
Changing  oft  as  falls  the  rain. 
Or  the  sky  grows  bright  again. 
New  misfortunes  every  day 
Still  befall  me,  misery's  prey. 

Aid  from  mighty  streams  obtained. 
Southern  States  are  shaped  and  drained. 
Thus  the  Keang  and  Han  are  thanked, 
And  as  benefactors  ranked. 
Weary  toil  my  vigor  drains; 
All  unnoticed  it  remains! 

Hawks  and  eagles  mount  the  sky ; 
Sturgeons  in  deep  waters  lie. 
Out  of  reach,  they  safely  get. 
Arrow  fear  not,  nor  the  net. 
Hiding-place  for  me  there's  none; 
Here  I  stay,  and  make  my  moan. 

Ferns  upon  the  hills  abound ; 
Ke  and  e  in  marshy  ground. 
Each  can  boast  its  proper  place, 
Where  it  grows  for  use  or  grace. 
I  can  only  sing  the  woe. 
Which,  ill-starred,  I  undergo. 


i8a  THE  SHI-KING 


On  the  Alienation  of  a  Friend 

Gently  and  soft  the  east  wind  blows, 
And  then  there  falls  the  pelting  rain. 

When  anxious  fears  pressed  round  you  close, 
Then  linked  together  were  we  twain. 

Now  happy,  and  your  mind  at  rest, 

You  turn  and  cast  me  from  your  breast. 

Gently  and  soft  the  east  wind  blows, 

And  then  there  comes  the  whirlwind  wild. 

When  anxious  fears  pressed  round  you  close. 
Your  bosom  held  me  as  a  child. 

Now  happy,  and  in  peaceful  state. 

You  throw  me  off  and  quite  forget. 

Gently  and  soft  the  east  wind  blows, 
Then  round  the  rocky  height  it  storms. 

Each  plant  its  leaves  all  dying  shows; 
The  trees  display  their  withered  forms. 

My  virtues  great  forgotten  all. 

You  keep  in  mind  my  faults,  though  small. 


BOOK  VI 
THE  DECADE  OF  PIH  SHAN 

A  Picture  of  Husbandry 

Various  the  toils  which  fields  so  large  demand! 

We  choose  the  seed ;  we  take  our  tools  in  hand. 

In  winter  for  our  work  we  thus  prepare ; 

Then  in  the  spring,  bearing  the  sharpened  'share, 

We  to  the  acres  go  that  south  incline. 

And  to  the  earth  the  different  seeds  consign. 

Soon,  straight  and  large,  upward  each  plant  aspires  ;- 

All  happens  as  our  noble  lord  desires. 

The  plants  will  ear;   within  their  sheath  confined. 
The  grains  will  harden,  and  be  good  in  kind. 
Nor  darnel  these,  nor  wolf's-tail  grass  infests ; 
From  core  and  leaf  we  pick  the  insect  pests, 
And  pick  we  those  that  eat  the  joints  and  roots: — 
So  do  we  guard  from  harm  the  growing  fruits. 
May  the  great  Spirit,  whom  each  farmer  names. 
Those  insects  take,  and  cast  them  to  the  flames ! 

The  clouds  o'erspread  the  sky  in  masses  dense. 
And  gentle  rain  down  to  the  earth  dispense. 
First  may  the  public  fields  the  blessing  get, 
And  then  with  it  our  private  fields  we  wet! 
Patches  of  unripe  grain  the  reaper  leaves; 
And  here  and  there  ungathered  are  the  sheaves. 
Handfuls  besides  we  drop  upon  the  ground. 
And  ears  untouched  in  numbers  lie  around; — 
These  by  the  poor  and  widows  shall  be  found. 
183 


[84  THE   SHI-KING 

When  wives  and  children  to  the  toilers  come, 
Bringing  provisions  from  each  separate  home, 
Our  lord  of  long  descent  shall  oft  appear; 
The  Inspector  also,  glad  the  men  to  cheer. 
They  too  shall  thank  the  Spirits  of  the  air. 
With  sacrifices  pure  for  all  their  care; 
Now  red,  now  black,  the  victims  that  they  slay, 
As  North  or  South  the  sacrifice  they  pay ; 
While  millet  bright  the  altars  always  show ; — 
And  we  shall  thus  still  greater  blessings  know. 


The  Complaint  of  an  Officer 

O  Heaven  above,  before  whose  light 
Revealed  is  every  deed  and  thought, 

To  thee  I  cry. 
Hither  on  toilsome  service  brought, 
In  this  wild  K'ew  I  watch  time's  flight, 

And  sadly  sigh. 
The  second  month  had  just  begun, 
When  from  the  east  we  took  our  way. 

Through  summer  hot 
We  passed,  and  many  a  wintry  day. 
Summer  again  its  course  has  run. 

O  bitter  lot ! 
There  are  my  compeers,  gay  at  court. 
While  here  the  tears  my  face  begrime. 

I'd  fain  return — 
But  there  is  that  dread  net  for  crime ! 
The  fear  of  it  the  wish  cuts  short. 

In  vain  I  burn ! 

Ere  we  the  royal  city  left, 

The  sun  and  moon  renewed  the  year. 

We  marched  in  hope. 
Now  to  its  close  this  year  is  near. 
Return  deferred,  of  hope  bereft. 

All  mourn  and  mope. 
My  lonesome  state  haunts  aye  my  breast. 
While  duties  grow,  and  cares  increase, 
Too  hard  to  bear. 


THE   SHI-KING  185 

Toils  that  oppress  me  never  cease; 
Not  for  a  moment  dare  I  rest, 

Nigh  to  despair. 
I  think  with  fond  regard  of  those, 
Who  in  their  posts  at  court  remain, 

My  friends  of  old. 
Fain  would  I  be  with  them  again, 
But  fierce  reproof  return  would  cause. 

This  post  I  hold. 

When  for  the  West  I  left  my  home, 
The  sun  and  moon  both  mildly  shone, 

Our  hearts  to  cheer. 
We'd  soon  be  back,  our  service  done! 
Alas!    affairs  more  urgent  come, 

And  fix  us  here. 
The  year  is  hastening  to  expire. 
We  gather  now  the  southern-wood. 

The  beans  we  reap ; — 
That  for  its  fragrance,  these  for  food. 
Such  things  that  constant  care  require 

Me  anxious  keep. 
Thinking  of  friends  still  at  their  posts, 
I  rise  and  pass  the  night  outside. 

So  vexed  my  mind. 
But  soon  what  changes  may  betide? 
I  here  will  stay,  whate'er  it  costs, 

And  be  resigned. 

My  honored  friends,  O  do  not  deem 
Your  rest  which  seems  secure  from  ill 

Will  ever  last ! 
Your  duties  quietly  fulfil. 
And  hold  the  upright  in  esteem. 

With  friendship  fast. 
So  shall  the  Spirits  hear  your  cry. 
You  virtuous  make,  and  good  supply. 

In  measure  vast. 

My  honored  friends,  O  do  not  deem 
Repose  that  seems  secure  from  ill 
Will  lasting  prove. 


i86  THE  SHI-KING 

Your  duties  quietly  fulfil, 

And  hold  the  upright  in  esteem. 

With  earnest  love. 
So  shall  the  Spirits  hear  your  prayer. 
And  on  you  happiness  confer, 

Your  hopes  above. 


BOOK  VII 

DECADE  OF  SANG  HOO 

The  Rejoicings  of  a  Bridegroom 

With  axle  creaking,  all  on  fire  I  went, 
To  fetch  my  young  and  lovely  bride. 

No  thirst  or  hunger  pangs  my  bosom  rent — 
I  only  longed  to  have  her  by  my  side. 

I  feast  with  her,  whose  virtue  fame  had  told, 

Nor  need  we  friends  our  rapture  to  behold. 

The  long-tailed  pheasants  surest  covert  find, 

Amid  the  forest  on  the  plain. 
Here  from  my  virtuous  bride,  of  noble  mind. 

And  person  tall,  I  wisdom  gain. 
I  praise  her  while  we  feast,  and  to  her  say, 
"  The  love  I  bear  you  ne'er  will  know  decay. 

"  Poor  we  may  be ;  spirits  and  viands  fine 

My  humble  means  will  not  afford. 
But  what  we  have,  we'll  taste  and  not  repine; 

From  us  will  come  no  grumbling  word. 
And  though  to  you  no  virtue  I  can  add, 
Yet  we  will  sing  and  dance,  in  spirit  glad. 

"  I  oft  ascend  that  lofty  ridge  with  toil, 
And  hew  large  branches  from  the  oaks; 

Then  of  their  leafy  glory  them  I  spoil. 
And  fagots  form  with  vigorous  strokes. 

Returning  tired,  your  matchless  grace  I  see. 

And  my  whole  soul  dissolves  in  ecstasy. 

"  To  the  high  hills  I  looked,  and  urged  each  steed ; 
The  great  road  next  was  smooth  and  plain. 
187 


i88  THE   SHI-KING 

Up  hill,  o'er  dale,  I  never  slackened  speed; 

Like  lute-string  sounded  every  rein. 
I  knew,  my  journey  ended,  I  should  come 
To  you,  sweet  bride,  the  comfort  of  my  home.' 


Against  Listening  to  Slanderers 

Like  the  blueflies  buzzing  round, 
And  on  the  fences  lighting, 

Are  the  sons  of  slander  found, 
Who  never  cease  their  biting. 

O  thou  happy,  courteous  king, 

To  the  winds  their  slanders  fling. 

Buzzing  round  the  blueflies  hear, 
About  the  jujubes  flocking! 

So  the  slanderers  appear, 

Whose  calumnies  are  shocking. 

By  no  law  or  order  bound, 

All  the  kingdom  they  confound. 

How  they  buzz,  those  odious  flies, 
Upon  the  hazels  clust'ring! 

And  as  odious  are  the  lies 
Of  those  slanderers  blust'ring. 

Hatred  stirred  between  us  two 

Shows  the  evil  they  can  do. 


BOOK  VIII 
THE  DECADE  OF  TOO  JIN  SZE 

In  Praise  of  By-gone  Simplicity 

In  the  old  capital  they  stood, 

With  yellow  fox-furs  plain, 
Their  manners  all  correct  and  good. 

Speech  free  from  vulgar  stain. 
Could  we  go  back  to  Chow's  old  days, 
All  would  look  up  to  them  with  praise. 

In  the  old  capital  they  wore 
Vae  hats  and  black  caps  small ; 

And  ladies,  who  famed  surnames  bore, 
Their  own  thick  hair  let  fall. 

Such  simple  ways  are  seen  no  more. 

And  the  changed  manners  I  deplore. 

Ear-rings,  made  of  plainest  gold, 

In  the  old  days  were  worn. 
Each  lady  of  a  noble  line 

A  Yin  or  Keih  seemed  born. 
Such  officers  and  ladies  now 
I  see  not  and  my  sorrows  grow. 

With  graceful  sweep  their  girdles  fell. 

Then  in  the  days  of  old. 
The  ladies'  side-hair,  with  a  swell, 

Like  scorpion's  tail,  rose  bold. 
Such,  if  I  saw  them  in  these  days, 
I'd  follow  with  admiring  gaze. 
189 


190  THE   SHI-KING 

So  hung  their  girdles,  not  for  show; — 

To  their  own  length  'twas  due. 
'Twas  not  by  art  their  hair  curled  so; — 

By  nature  so  it  grew. 
I  seek  such  manners  now  in  vain, 
And  pine  for  them  with  longing  pain. 

[Note. — Yin  and  Keih  were  clan  names  of  great  families,  the  ladies 
of  which  would  be  leaders  of  fashion  in  the  capital] 


A  Wife  Bemoans  Her  Husband's  Absence 

So  full  am  I  of  anxious  thought. 

Though  all  the  morn  king-grass  I've  sought, 

To  fill  my  arms  I  fail. 
Like  wisp  all-tangled  is  my  hair ! 
To  wash  it  let  me  home  repair. 

My  lord  soon  may  I  hail! 

Though  'mong  the  indigo  I've  wrought 
The  morning  long ;  through  anxious  thought. 

My  skirt's  filled  but  in  part. 
Within  five  days  he  was  to  appear ; 
The  sixth  has  come  and  he's  not  here. 

Oh  !  how  this  racks  my  heart ! 

When  here  we  dwelt  in  union  sweet. 
If  the  hunt  called  his  eager  feet. 

His  bow  I  cased  for  him. 
Or  if  to  fish  he  went  away, 
And  would  be  absent  all  the  day, 

His  line  I  put  in  trim. 

What  in  his  anghng  did  he  catch? 
Well  worth  the  time  it  was  to  watch 

How  bream  and  tench  he  took. 
Men  thronged  upon  the  banks  and  gazed ; 
At  bream  and  tench  they  looked  amazed, 

The  triumphs  of  his  hook. 


THE   SHI-KING  191 


The  Earl  of  Shaou's  Work 

As  the  young  millet,  by  the  genial  rain 

Enriched,  shoots  up  luxuriant  and  tall, 
So,  when  we  southward  marched  with  toil  and  pain. 

The  Earl  of  Shaou  cheered  and  inspired  us  all. 

We  pushed  our  barrows,  and  our  burdens  bore ; 

We  drove  our  wagons,  and  our  oxen  led. 
"  The  work  once  done,  our  labor  there  is  o'er. 

And  home  we  travel,"  to  ourselves  we  said. 

Close  kept  our  footmen  round  the  chariot  track; 

Our  eager  host  in  close  battalions  sped. 
"  When  once  our  work  is  done,  then  we  go  back. 

Our  labor  over,"  to  themselves  they  said. 

Hard  was  the  work  we  had  at  Seay  to  do, 
But  Shaou's  great  earl  the  city  soon  upreared. 

The  host  its  service  gave  with  ardor  true ; — 

Such  power  in  all  the  earl's  commands  appeared! 

We  did  on  plains  and  low  lands  what  was  meet; 

We  cleared  the  springs  and  streams,  the  land  to  drain. 
The  Earl  of  Shaou  announced  his  work  complete, 

And  the  King's  heart  reposed,  at  rest  again. 


The  Plaint  of  King  Yew's  Forsaken  Wife 

The  fibres  of  the  white-flowered  rush 

Are  with  the  white  grass  bound. 
So  do  the  two  together  go. 

In  closest  union  found. 
And  thus  should  man  and  wife  abide, 

The  twain  combined  in  one ; 
But  this  bad  man  sends  me  away. 

And  bids  me  dwell  alone. 

Both  rush  and  grass  from  the  bright  clouds 
The  genial  dew  partake. 


192 


THE   SHI-KING 

Kind  and  impartial,  nature's  laws 
No  odious  difference  make. 

But  providence  appears  unkind; 
Events  are  often  hard. 

This  man,  to  principle  untrue. 
Denies  me  his  regard. 

Northward  the  pools  their  waters  send, 

To  flood  each  paddy  field ; 
So  get  the  fields  the  sap  they  need, 

Their  store  of  rice  to  yield. 
But  that  great  man  no  deed  of  grace 

Deigns  to  bestow  on  me. 
My  songs  are  sighs.     At  thought  of  him, 

My  heart  aches  wearily. 

The  mulberry  branches  they  collect, 

And  use  their  food  to  cook  ; 
But  I  must  use  a  furnace  small. 

That  pot  nor  pan  will  brook. 
So  me  that  great  man  badly  treats, 

Nor  uses  as  his  wife. 
Degrades  me  from  my  proper  place. 

And  fills  with  grief  my  life. 

The  bells  and  drums  inside  the  court 

Men  stand  without  and  hear; 
So  should  the  feelings  in  my  breast. 

To  him  distinct  appear. 
All-sorrowful,  I  think  of  him. 

Longing  to  move  his  love; 
But  he  vouchsafes  no  kind  response; 

His  thoughts  far  from  me  rove. 

The  marabow  stands  on  the  dam. 

And  to  repletion  feeds ; 
The  crane  deep  in  the  forest  cries, 

Nor  finds  the  food  it  needs. 
So  in  my  room  the  concubine 

By  the  great  man  is  placed ; 
While  I  with  cruel  banishment 

Am  cast  out  and  disgraced. 


THE    SHI-KING  I93 

The  yellow  ducks  sit  on  the  dam, 

With  left  wing  gathered  low ; 
So  on  each  other  do  they  lean, 

And  their  attachment  show. 
And  love  should  thus  the  man  and  wife 

In  closest  concord  bind ; 
But  that  man  turns  away  from  me, 

And  shows  a  fickle  mind. 

When  one  stands  on  a  slab  of  stone. 

No  higher  than  the  ground, 
Nothing  is  added  to  his  height ; — 

Low  with  the  stone  he's  found- 
So  does  the  favorite's  mean  estate 

Render  that  great  man  mean, 
While  I  by  him,  to  distance  sent. 

Am  pierced  with  sorrow  keen. 


Hospitality 

A  few  gourd  leaves  that  waved  about 

Cut  down  and  boiled  ; — the  feast  how  spare ! 

But  the  good  host  his  spirits  takes, 
Pours  out  a  cup,  and  proves  them  rare. 

A  single  rabbit  on  the  mat, 

Or  baked,  or  roast: — how  small  the  feast! 
But  the  good  host  his  spirits  takes. 

And  fills  the  cup  of  every  guest. 

A  single  rabbit  on  the  mat, 

Roasted  or  broiled  : — how  poor  the  meal ! 
But  the  guests  from  the  spirit  vase 

Fill  their  host's  cup,  and  drink  his  weal. 

A  single  rabbit  on  the  mat. 

Roasted  or  baked  : — no  feast  we  think ! 
But  from  the  spirit  vase  they  take, 

Both  host  and  guests,  and  joyous  drink. 
Vol.  IV.— 13 


Z94  THE  SHI-KING 


On  the  Misery  of  Soldiers 

Yellow  now  is  all  the  grass ; 
All  the  days  in  marching  pass. 
On  the  move  is  every  man ; 
Hard  work,  far  and  near,  they  plan. 

Black  is  every  plant  become ; 
Every  man  is  torn  from  home. 
Kept  on  foot,  our  state  is  sad ; — 
As  if  we  no  feelings  had ! 

Not  rhinoceroses  we ! 
Tigers  do  we  care  to  be  ? 
Fields  like  these  so  desolate 
Are  to  us  a  hateful  fate. 

Long-tailed  foxes  pleased  may  hide 
'Mong  the  grass,  where  they  abide. 
We,  in  box  carts  slowly  borne, 
On  the  great  roads  plod  and  mourn. 


PART  III.— GREATER   ODES   OF   THE  KINGDOM 

BOOK  I 

DECADE  OF  KING  WAN 
Celebrating  King  Wan 

The  royal  Wan  now  rests  on  high, 
Enshrined  in  brightness  of  the  sky. 
Chow  as  a  state  had  long  been  known, 
And  Heaven's  decree  at  last  was  shown. 
Its  lords  had  borne  a  glorious  name ; 
God  kinged  them  when  the  season  came. 
King  Wan  ruled  well  when  earth  he  trod ; 
Now  moves  his  spirit  near  to  God. 

A  strong-willed,  earnest  king  was  Wan, 
And  still  his  fame  rolls  widening  on. 
The  gifts  that  God  bestowed  on  Chow 
Belong  to  Wan's  descendants  now. 
Heaven  blesses  still  with  gifts  divine 
The  hundred  scions  of  his  line  ; 
And  all  the  officers  of  Chow 
From  age  to  age  more  lustrous  grow. 

More  lustrous  still  from  age  to  age. 
All  reverent  plans  their  zeal  engage ; 
And  brilliant  statesmen  owe  their  birth 
To  this  much-favored  spot  of  earth. 
They  spring  like  products  of  the  land — 
The  men  by  whom  the  realm  doth  stand. 
Such  aid  their  numerous  bands  supply. 
That  Wan  rests  tranquilly  on  high. 
195 


196  THE   SHI-KING 

Deep  were  Wan's  thoughts,  sustained  his  ways : 
His  reverence  Ht  its  trembHng  rays. 
Resistless  came  great  Heaven's  decree ; 
The  sons  of  Shang  must  bend  the  knee  ; — 
The  sons  of  Shang,  each  one  a  king, 
In  numbers  beyond  numbering. 
Yet  as  God  spoke,  so  must  it  be : — 
The  sons  of  Shang  all  bent  the  knee. 

Now  each  to  Chow  his  homage  pays — 
So  dark  and  changing  are  Heaven's  ways. 
When  we  pour  our  libations  here. 
The  officers  of  Shang  appear. 
Quick  and  alert  to  give  their  aid : — 
Such  is  the  service  by  them  paid. 
While  still  they  do  not  cast  aside 
The  cap  and  broidered  axe — their  pride. 
Ye  servants  of  our  line  of  kings, 
Remember  him  from  whom  it  springs. 

Remember  him  from  whom  it  springs ; — 

Let  this  give  to  your  virtue  wings. 

Seek  harmony  with  Heaven's  great  mind; — 

So  shall  you  surest  blessing  find. 

Ere  Shang  had  lost  the  nation's  heart, 

Its  monarchs  all  with  God  had  part 

In  sacrifice.     From  them  you  see 

'Tis  hard  to  keep  high  Heaven's  decree. 

'Tis  hard  to  keep  high  Heaven's  decree ! 
O  sin  not,  or  you  cease  to  be. 
To  add  true  lustre  to  your  name. 
See  Shang  expire  in  Heaven's  dread  flame. 
For  Heaven's  high  dealings  are  profound, 
And  far  transcend  all  sense  and  sound. 
From  Wan  your  pattern  you  must  draw, 
And  all  the  States  will  own  your  law. 


BOOK   III* 

DECADE  OF   TANG 

King  Seuen  on  the  Occasion  of  a  Great  Drought 

Grand  shone  the  Milky  Way  on  high, 
With  briUiant  span  athwart  the  sky, 

Nor  promise  gave  of  rain. 
King  Seuen  long  gazed ;  then  from  him  broke. 
In  anguished  tones  the  words  he  spoke. 

Well  might  he  thus  complain ! 
"  O  Heaven,  what  crimes  have  we  to  own, 
That  death  and  ruin  still  come  down? 
Relentless  famine  fills  our  graves. 
Pity  the  king  who  humbly  craves ! 

Our  miseries  never  cease. 
To  every  Spirit  I  have  vowed ; 
The  choicest  victim's  blood  has  flowed. 
As  offerings  I  have  freely  paid 
My  store  of  gems  and  purest  jade. 

Hear  me,  and  give  release ! 

"  The  drought  consumes  us.     As  on  wing 
Its  fervors  fly,  and  torment  bring. 
With  purest  mind  and  ceaseless  care 
My  sacrifices  I  prepare. 
At  thine  own  border  altars,  Heaven, 
And  in  my  father's  fane,  I've  given 

What  might  relief  have  found. 
What  Powers  above,  below,  have  sway. 
To  all  my  precious  gifts  I  pay, 

Then  bury  in  the  ground. 
Yes,  every  Spirit  has  received 
Due  honor,  and,  still  unrelieved, 

*  [Selections  from  Book  U.  are  omitted.— Editor.] 
197 


igS 


THE   SHI-KING 

Our  sufferings  greater  grow. 
How-tseih  can't  give  the  needed  aid, 
And  help  from  God  is  still  delayed! 
The  country  lies  a  ruined  waste. 

0  would  that  I  alone  might  taste 
This  bitter  cup  of  woe ! 

The  drought  consumes  us.     Nor  do  I 
To  fix  the  blame  on  others  try. 

1  quake  with  dread ;  the  risk  I  feel, 
As  when  I  hear  the  thunders  peal. 

Or  fear  its  sudden  crash. 
Our  black-haired  race,  a  remnant  now, 
Will  every  one  be  swept  from  Chow, 

As  by  the  lightning's  flash. 
Nor  I  myself  will  live  alone. 
God  from  his  great  and  heavenly  throne 

Will  not  spare  even  me. 
O  friends  and  officers,  come,  blend 
Your  prayers  with  mine  ;  come,  lowly  bend. 
Chow's  dynasty  will  pass  away ; 
Its  altars  at  no  distant  day 

In  ruins  all  shall  be ! 

'  The  drought  consumes  us.     It  keeps  on 
Its  fatal  course.     All  hope  is  gone. 
The  air  more  fierce  and  fiery  glows. 
Where  can  I  fly?     Where  seek  repose? 

Death  marks  me  for  its  prey. 
Above,  no  saving  hand !     Around, 
No  hope,  no  comfort,  can  be  found. 
The  dukes  and  ministers  of  old 
Give  us  no  help.     Can  ye  withhold 
Your  sympathy,  who  lately  reigned? 
And  parents,  how  are  you  restrained, 
In  this  so  dreadful  day? 

'  The  drought  consumes  us.     There  on  high 
The  hills  are  parched.     The  streams  are  dry. 
Drought's  demon  stalks  abroad  in  ire, 
And  scatters  wide  his  flames  and  fire. 


^ 


THE   SHI-KING  199 


Alas,  my  woful  heart! 
The  fires  within  its  strength  consume ; 
The  heat  without  creates  a  gloom 

That  from  it  will  not  part. 
The  dukes  and  ministers  by-gone 
Respond  not  to  my  prayer  and  moan. 
God  in  great  Heaven,  permission  give 
That  I  may  in  retirement  live, 

And  try  to  heal  my  smart! 

The  drought  consumes  us.     Still  I  strive, 
And  will  not  leave  while  I  survive. 

Duty  to  shun  I  fear. 
Why  upon  me  has  come  this  drought? 
Vainly  I  try  to  search  it  out, 

Vainly,  with  quest  severe. 
For  a  good  harvest  soon  I  prayed, 
Nor  late  the  rites  I  duly  paid, 
To  Spirits  of  the  air  and  land. 
There  wanted  nought  they  could  demand. 

Their  favor  to  secure. 
God  in  great  heaven,  be  just,  be  kind! 
Thou  dost  not  bear  me  in  Thy  mind. 
My  cry,  ye  wisest  Spirits,  hear ! 
Ye  whom  I  constantly  revere. 

Why  do  I  this  endure  ? 

The  drought  consumes  us.     People  fly. 
And  leave  their  homes.     Each  social  tie 

And  bond  of  rule  is  snapt. 
The  Heads  of  Boards  are  all  perplexed; 
My  premier's  mind  is  sorely  vexed ; 

In  trouble  all  are  wrapt. 
The  Masters  of  my  Horse  and  Guards ; 
My  cook,  and  men  of  different  wards : — 
Not  one  has  from  the  struggle  shrunk. 
Though  feeling  weak,  they  have  not  sunk. 

But  done  their  best  to  aid. 
To  the  great  sky  I  look  with  pain ; — 
Why  do  these  grievous  sorrows  rain 

On  my  devoted  head? 


THE   SHI-KING 

"  Yes,  at  the  mighty  sky  I  gaze, 
And  lo !  the  stars  pursue  their  maze, 

And  sparkle  clear  and  bright. 
Ah !  Heaven  nor  helps,  nor  seems  to  ken. 
Great  officers  and  noble  men, 
With  all  your  powers  ye  well  have  striven, 
And  reverently  have  sought  from  Heaven 

Its  aid  in  our  great  fight. 
My  death  is  near ;  but  oh !  keep  on, 
And  do  as  thus  far  you  have  done. 

Regard  you  only  me? 
No,  for  yourselves  and  all  your  friends, 
On  whom  for  rule  the  land  depends. 

You  seek  security. 
I  turn  my  gaze  to  the  great  sky ; — 
When  shall  this  drought  be  done,  and  I 

Quiet  and  restful  be?  " 


PART  IV.— ODES  OF  THE  TEMPLE  AND  ALTAR 

BOOK   I 

SACRIFICIAL   ODES  OF   CHOW 

Appropriate  to  a  Sacrifice  to  King  Wan 

My  offerings  here  are  given, 

A  ram,  a  bull. 
Accept  them,  mighty  Heaven, 

All-bountiful. 

Thy  statutes,  O  great  king, 

I  keep,  I  love ; 
So  on  the  realm  to  bring 

Peace  from  above. 

From  Wan  comes  blessing  rich ; 

Now  on  the  right 
He  owns  those  gifts  to  which 

Him  I  invite. 

Do  I  not  night  and  day, 

Revere  great  Heaven, 
That  thus  its  favor  may 

To  Chow  be  given  ? 


THE   SHI-KING 


On  Sacrificing  to  the  Kings  Woo,  Ching,  and  K«ang 

The  arm  of  Woo  was  full  of  might ; 

None  could  his  fire  withstand  ; 
And  Ching  and  K'ang  stood  forth  to  sight. 

As  kinged  by  God's  own  hand. 

We  err  not  when  we  call  them  sage. 

How  grandly  they  maintained 
Their  hold  of  all  the  heritage 

That  Wan  and  Woo  had  gained ! 

As  here  we  worship,  they  descend, 

While  bells  and  drums  resound, 
And  stones  and  lutes  their  music  blend. 

With  blessings  we  are  crowned. 

The  rites  correctly  we  discharge ; 

The  feast  we  freely  share. 
Those  Sires  Chow's  glory  will  enlarge, 

And  ever  for  it  care. 


THE    TRAVELS    OF    FA-HIEN 

[Translation  by  James  Legge^ 


TRANSLATOR'S    INTRODUCTION 

NOTHING  of  great  importance  is  known  about  Fa-hien 
in  addition  to  what  may  be  gathered  from  his  own 
record  of  his  travels.  I  have  read  the  accounts  of  him 
in  the  "  Memoirs  of  Eminent  Monks,"  compiled  in  a.d.  519, 
and  a  later  work,  the  "  Memoirs  of  Marvellous  Monks,"  by  the 
third  emperor  of  the  Ming  dynasty  (a.d.  1403-1424),  which, 
however,  is  nearly  all  borrowed  from  the  other ;  and  all  in  them 
that  has  an  appearance  of  verisimiHtude  can  be  brought  within 
brief  compass. 

His  surname,  they  tell  us,  was  Kung,  and  he  was  a  native  of 
Wii-yang  in  P'ing-yang,  which  is  still  the  name  of  a  large  de- 
partment in  Shan-hsi.  He  had  three  brothers  older  than  him- 
self; but  when  they  all  died  before  shedding  their  first  teeth, 
his  father  devoted  him  to  the  service  of  the  Buddhist  society, 
and  had  him  entered  as  a  Sramanera,  still  keeping  him  at  home 
in  the  family.  The  little  fellow  fell  dangerously  ill,  and  the 
father  sent  him  to  the  monastery,  where  he  soon  got  well  and 
refused  to  return  to  his  parents. 

When  he  was  ten  years  old,  his  father  died ;  and  an  uncle, 
considering  the  widowed  solitariness  and  helplessness  of  the 
mother,  urged  him  to  renounce  the  monastic  life,  and  return 
to  her,  but  the  boy  replied,  "  I  did  not  quit  the  family  in  com- 
pliance with  my  father's  wishes,  but  because  I  wished  to  be  far 
from  the  dust  and  vulgar  ways  of  life.  This  is  why  I  choose 
monkhood."  The  uncle  approved  of  his  words  and  gave  over 
urging  him.  When  his  mother  also  died,  it  appeared  how 
great  had  been  the  aflfection  for  her  of  his  fine  nature  ;  but  after 
her  burial  he  returned  to  the  monastery. 

On  one  occasion  he  was  cutting  rice  with  a  score  or  two  of 

his  fellow-disciples,   when   some   hungry  thieves   came   upon 

them  to  take  away  their  grain  by  force.     The  other  Sramaneras 

all  fled,  but  our  young  hero  stood  his  ground,  and  said  to  the 

205 


2o6  THE  TRAVELS  OF.  FA-HIEN 

thieves,  "  If  you  must  have  the  grain,  take  what  you  please. 
But,  sirs,  it  was  your  former  neglect  of  charity  which  brought 
you  to  your  present  state  of  destitution ;  and  now,  again,  you 
wish  to  rob  others.  I  am  afraid  that  in  the  coming  ages  you 
will  have  still  greater  poverty  and  distress ;  I  am  sorry  for  you 
beforehand."  With  these  words  he  followed  his  companions 
to  the  monastery,  while  the  thieves  left  the  grain  and  went 
away,  all  the  monks,  of  whom  there  were  several  hundred,  do- 
ing homage  to  his  conduct  and  courage. 

When  he  had  finished  his  novitiate  and  taken  on  him  the 
obligations  of  the  full  Buddhist  orders,  his  earnest  courage, 
clear  intelligence,  and  strict  regulation  of  his  demeanor,  were 
conspicuous ;  and  soon  after,  he  undertook  his  journey  to 
India  in  search  of  complete  copies  of  the  Vinaya-pitaka. 
What  follows  this  is  merely  an  account  of  his  travels  in  India 
and  return  to  China  by  sea,  condensed  from  his  own  narrative, 
with  the  addition  of  some  marvellous  incidents  that  happened 
to  him,  on  his  visit  to  the  Vulture  Peak  near  Rajagriha. 

It  is  said  in  the  end  that  after  his  return  to  China,  he  went 
to  the  capital  (evidently  Nanking),  and  there,  along  with  the 
Indian  Sramana  Buddha-bhadra,  executed  translations  of  some 
of  the  works  which  he  had  obtained  in  India ;  and  that  before 
he  had  done  all  that  he  wished  to  do  in  this  way,  he  removed 
to  King-chow  (in  the  present  Hoo-pih),  and  died  in  the  mon- 
astery of  Sin,  at  the  age  of  eighty-eight,  to  the  great  sorrow 
of  all  who  knew  him.  It  is  added  that  there  is  another  larger 
work  giving  an  account  of  his  travels  in  various  countries. 

Such  is  all  the  information  given  about  our  author,  beyond 
what  he  has  himself  told  us.  Fa-hien  was  his  clerical  name, 
and  means  "  Illustrious  in  the  Law,"  or  "  Illustrious  master  of 
the  Law."  The  Shih  which  often  precedes  it  is  an  abbrevia- 
tion of  the  name  of  Buddha  as  Sakyamuni,  "  the  Sakya,  mighty 
in  Love,  dwelling  in  Seclusion  and  Silence,"  and  may  be  taken 
as  equivalent  to  Buddhist.  He  is  sometimes  said  to  have  be- 
longed to  "the  eastern  Tsin  dynasty"  (a.d.  317-419),  and 
sometimes  to  "  the  Sung,"  that  is,  the  Sung  dynasty  of  the 
House  of  Liu  (a.d.  420-478).  If  he  became  a  full  monk  at  the 
age  of  twenty,  and  went  to  India  when  he  was  twenty-five,  his 
long  life  may  have  been  divided  pretty  equally  between  the 
two  dynasties. 

If  there  were  ever  another  and  larger  account  of  Fa-hien's 


TRANSLATOR'S    INTRODUCTION  207 

travels  than  the  narrative  of  which  a  translation  is  now  given, 
it  has  long  ceased  to  be  in  existence. 

In  the  catalogue  of  the  imperial  library  of  the  Suy  dynasty 
(a.d.  589-618),  the  name  Fa-hien  occurs  four  times.  Towards 
the  end  of  the  last  section  of  it,  after  a  reference  to  his  travels, 
his  labors  in  translation  at  Kin-ling  (another  name  for  Nan- 
king), in  conjunction  with  Buddha-bhadra,  are  described.  In 
the  second  section  we  find  "  A  Record  of  Buddhistic  King- 
doms " — with  a  note,  saying  that  it  was  the  work  of  "  the 
Sramana,  Fa-hien  " ;  and  again,  we  have  "  Narrative  of  Fa- 
hien  in  two  Books,"  and  "  Narrative  of  Fa-hien's  Travels  in 
one  Book."  But  all  these  three  entries  may  possibly  belong 
to  different  copies  of  the  same  work,  the  first  and  the  other 
two  being  in  separate  subdivisions  of  the  catalogue. 

In  the  two  Chinese  copies  of  the  narrative  in  my  possession 
the  title  is  "  Record  of  Buddhistic  Kingdoms."  In  the  Japan- 
ese or  Corean  recension  the  title  is  twofold ;  first,  "  Narrative 
of  the  Distinguished  Monk,  Fa-hien  " ;  and  then,  more  at 
large,  "  Incidents  of  Travels  in  India,  by  the  Sramana  of  the 
Eastern  Tsin,  Fa-hien,  recorded  by  himself." 

There  is  still  earlier  attestation  of  the  existence  of  our  little 
work  than  the  Suy  catalogue.  The  "  Catalogue  Raisonne  "  of 
the  imperial  library  of  the  present  dynasty  mentions  two  quota- 
tions from  it  by  Le  Tao-yiien,  a  geographical  writer  of  the 
dynasty  of  the  Northern  Wei  (a.d.  386-584),  one  of  them  con- 
taining eighty-nine  characters,  and  the  other  two  hundred  and 
seventy-six ;  both  of  them  given  as  from  the  "  Narrative  of 
Fa-hien." 

In  all  catalogues  subsequent  to  that  of  Suy  our  work  ap- 
pears. The  evidence  for  its  authenticity  and  genuineness  is  all 
that  could  be  required.  It  is  clear  to  myself  that  the  "  Record 
of  Buddhistic  Kingdoms  "  and  the  "  Narrative  of  his  Travels 
by  Fa-hien  "  were  designations  of  one  and  the  same  work,  and 
that  it  is  doubtful  whether  any  larger  work  on  the  same  sub- 
ject was  ever  current.  With  regard  to  the  text  subjoined  to 
my  translation,  it  was  published  in  Japan  in  1779.  The  editor 
had  before  him  four  recensions  of  the  narrative ;  those  of  the 
Sung  and  Ming  dynasties,  with  appendices  on  the  names  of 
certain  characters  in  them  ;  that  of  Japan ;  and  that  of  Corea. 
He  wisely  adopted  the  Corean  text,  published  in  accordance 
with  a  royal  rescript  in  1726,  so  far  as  I  can  make  out;  but  the 


2c8  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

different  readings  of  the  other  texts  are  all  given  in  top-notes, 
instead  of  foot-notes  as  with  us,  this  being  one  of  the  points 
in  which  customs  in  the  East  and  West  go  by  contraries.  Very 
occasionally,  the  editor  indicates  by  a  single  character,  equiva- 
lent to  "  right  "  or  "  wrong,"  which  reading  in  his  opinion  is 
to  be  preferred. 

The  editors  of  the  "  Catalogue  Raisonne  "  intimate  their 
doubts  of  the  good  taste  and  reliability  of  all  Fa-hien's  state- 
ments. It  offends  them  that  he  should  call  central  India  the 
"  Middle  Kingdom,"  and  China,  which  to  them  was  the  true 
and  only  Middle  Kingdom,  but  "  a  Border-land  " — it  offends 
them  as  the  vaunting  language  of  a  Buddhist  writer,  whereas 
the  reader  will  see  in  the  expressions  only  an  instance  of  what 
Fa-hien  calls  his  "  simple  straightforwardness." 

As  an  instance  of  his  unreliability  they  refer  to  his  account 
of  the  Buddhism  of  Khoten,  whereas  it  is  well-known,  they  say, 
that  the  Khoteners  from  ancient  times  till  now  have  been  Mo- 
hammedans ; — as  if  they  could  have  been  so  one  hundred  and 
seventy  years  before  Mohammed  was  born,  and  two  hundred 
twenty-two  years  before  the  year  of  the  Hegira!  And 
this  is  criticism  in  China.  The  catalogue  was  ordered  by  the 
K'ien-lung  emperor  in  1722.  Between  three  and  four  hun- 
dred of  the  "  Great  Scholars  "  of  the  empire  were  engaged  on 
It  in  various  departments,  and  thus  egregiously  ignorant  did 
they  show  themselves  of  all  beyond  the  limits  of  their  own 
country,  and  even  of  the  literature  of  that  country  itself. 

Much  of  what  Fa-hien  tells  his  readers  of  Buddhist  miracles 
and  legends  is  indeed  unreliable  and  grotesque ;  but  we  have 
from  him  the  truth  as  to  what  he  saw  and  heard. 

In  concluding  this  introduction  I  wish  to  call  attention  to 
some  estimates  of  the  number  of  Buddhists  in  the  world  which 
have  become  current,  believing,  as  I  do,  that  the  smallest  of 
them  is  much  above  what  is  correct. 

In  a  note  on  the  first  page  of  his  work  on  the  Bhilsa  Topes 
(1854),  General  Cunningham  says:  "The  Christians  number 
about  two  hundred  and  seventy  millions ;  the  Buddhists  about 
two  hundred  and  twenty-two  millions,  who  are  distributed  as 
follows :  China  one  hundred  and  seventy  millions,  Japan  twen- 
ty-five millions,  Anam  fourteen  millions,  Siam  three  mil- 
lions, Ava  eight  millions,  Nepal  one  million,  and  Ceylon  one 
million." 


TRANSLATOR'S   INTRODUCTION 


209 


In  his  article  on  M.  J.  Barthelemy  Saint -Hilaire's  "  Le 
Bouddha  et  sa  Religion,"  republished  in  his  "  Chips  from  a 
German  workshop,"  vol.  i.  (1868),  Professor  Max  Muher  says, 
"  The  young  prince  became  the  founder  of  a  religion  which, 
after  more  than  two  thousand  years,  is  still  professed  by  four 
hundred  and  fifty-five  millions  of  human  beings,"  and  he  ap- 
pends the  following  note :  "  Though  truth  is  not  settled  by 
majorities,  it  would  be  interesting  to  know  which  religion 
counts  at  the  present  moment  the  largest  numbers  of  believers. 
Berghaus,  in  his  '  Physical  Atlas,'  gives  the  following  division 
of  the  human  race  according  to  religion:  '  Buddhists  31.2  per 
cent..  Christians  30.7,  Mohammedans  15.7,  Brahmanists  13.4, 
Heathens  8.7,  and  Jews  0.3.'  As  Berghaus  does  not  distin- 
guish the  Buddhists  in  China  from  the  followers  of  Confucius 
and  Laotse,  the  first  place  on  the  scale  belongs  really  to  Chris- 
tianity. It  is  difificult  in  China  to  say  to  what  religion  a  man 
belongs,  as  the  same  person  may  profess  two  or  three.  The 
emperor  himself,  after  sacrificing  according  to  the  ritual  of 
Confucius,  visits  a  Tao-tse  temple,  and  afterwards  bows  before 
an  image  of  Fo  in  a  Buddhist  chapel."  ("  Melanges  Asiat- 
iques  de  St.  Petersbourg,"  vol.  ii.  p.  374.) 

Both  these  estimates  are  exceeded  by  Dr.  T.  W.  Rhys 
Davids  (intimating  also  the  uncertainty  of  the  statements,  and 
that  numbers  are  no  evidence  of  truth)  in  the  introduction  to 
his  "  Manual  of  Buddhism."  The  Buddhists  there  appear  as 
amounting  in  all  to  five  hundred  millions : — thirty  millions  of 
Southern  Buddhists,  in  Ceylon,  Burma,  Siam,  Anam,  and 
India  (Jains)  :  and  four  hundred  and  seventy  millions  of  North- 
ern Buddhists,  of  whom  nearly  thirty-three  millions  are  as- 
signed to  Japan,  and  414,686,974  to  the  eighteen  provinces  of 
China  proper.  According  to  him.  Christians  amount  to  about 
26  per  cent,  of  mankind,  Hindus  to  about  13,  Mohammedans 
to  about  12^,  Buddhists  to  about  40,  and  Jews  to  about  one- 
half  of  one  per  cent. 

In  regard  to  all  these  estimates,  it  will  be  observed  that  the 
immense  numbers  assigned  to  Buddhism  are  made  out  by  the 
multitude  of  Chinese  with  which  it  is  credited.  Subtract  Cun- 
ningham's one  hundred  and  seventy  millions  of  Chinese  from 
his  total  of  two  hu.idred  and  twenty-tw^o  millions,  and  there  re- 
main only  fifty-two  millions  of  Buddhists.  Subtract  Davids's 
four  hundred  fourteen  and  one-half  millions  of  Chinese  from 
Vol.  IV.— 14 


2IO  THE  TRAVELS  OF   FA-HIEN 

his  total  of  five  hundred  milUons,  and  there  remain  only 
eighty-five  and  one-half  millions  for  Buddhism.  Of  the  num- 
bers assigned  to  other  countries,  as  well  as  of  their  whole  pop- 
ulations, I  am  in  considerable  doubt,  excepting  in  the  cases  of 
Ceylon  and  India;  but  the  greatness  of  the  estimates  turns 
upon  the  immense  multitudes  said  to  be  in  China.  I  do  not 
know  what  total  population  Cunningham  allowed  for  that 
country,  nor  on  what  principle  he  allotted  one  hundred  and 
seventy  millions  of  it  to  Buddhism ;  perhaps  he  halved  his  es- 
timate of  the  whole,  whereas  Berghaus  and  Davids  allotted  to 
it  the  highest  estimates  that  have  been  given  of  the  people. 

But  we  have  no  certain  information  of  the  population  of 
China.  At  an  interview  with  the  former  Chinese  ambassador, 
Kwo  Sung-tao,  in  Paris,  in  1878,  I  begged  him  to  write  out  for 
me  the  amount,  with  the  authority  for  it,  and  he  assured  me 
that  it  could  not  be  done.  I  have  read  probably  almost  every- 
thing that  has  been  published  on  the  subject,  and  endeavored 
by  methods  of  my  own  to  arrive  at  a  satisfactory  conclusion  ; — 
without  reaching  a  result  which  I  can  venture  to  lay  before 
the  pubHc.  My  impression  has  been  that  four  hundred  mil- 
lions is  hardly  an  exaggeration. 

But  supposing  that  we  had  reliable  returns  of  the  whole  pop- 
ulation, how  shall  we  proceed  to  apportion  that  among  Con- 
fucianists,  Taoists,  and  Buddhists?  Confucianism  is  the  or- 
thodoxy of  China.  The  common  name  for  it  is  Ju  Chiao, 
"  the  Doctrines  held  by  the  Learned  Class,"  entrance  into  the 
circle  of  which  is,  with  a  few  insignificant  exceptions,  open  to 
all  the  people.  The  mass  of  them  and  the  masses  under  their 
influence  are  preponderatingly  Confucian  ;  and  in  the  observ- 
ance of  ancestral  worship,  the  most  remarkable  feature  of  the 
religion  proper  of  China  from  the  earliest  times,  of  which  Con- 
fucius was  not  the  author  but  the  prophet,  an  overwhelming 
majority  are  regular  and  assiduous. 

Among  "  the  strange  principles  "  which  the  emperor  of  the 
K'ang-hsi  period,  in  one  of  his  famous  Sixteen  Precepts,  ex- 
horted his  people  to  "  discountenance  and  put  away,  in  order 
to  exalt  the  correct  doctrine,"  Buddhism  and  Taoism  were 
both  included.  If,  as  stated  in  the  note  quoted  from  Professor 
Miiller,  the  emperor  countenances  both  the  Taoist  worship 
and  the  Buddhist,  he  does  so  for  reasons  of  state ;  to  please 
especially  his  Buddhistic  subjects  in  Thibet  and  Mongolia,  and 


TRANSLATOR'S   INTRODUCTION  211 

not  to  offend  the  many  whose  superstitious  fancies  incHne  to 
Taoism. 

When  I  went  out  and  in  as  a  missionary  among  the  Chinese 
people  for  about  thirty  years,  it  sometimes  occurred  to  me  that 
only  the  inmates  of  their  monasteries  and  the  recluses  of  both 
systems  should  be  enumerated  as  Buddhists  and  Taoists ;  but 
I  was  in  the  end  constrained  to  widen  that  judgment,  and  to 
admit  a  considerable  following  of  both  among  the  people,  who 
have  neither  received  the  tonsure  nor  assumed  the  yellow  top. 
Dr.  Eitel,  in  concluding  his  discussion  of  this  point  in  his 
"  Lecture  on  Buddhism,  an  Event  in  History,"  says :  "  It  is 
not  too  much  to  say  that  most  Chinese  are  theoretically  Con- 
fucianists,  but  emotionally  Buddhists  or  Taoists.  But  fairness 
requires  us  to  add  that,  though  the  mass  of  the  people  are 
more  or  less  influenced  by  Buddhist  doctrines,  yet  the  people, 
as  a  whole,  have  no  respect  for  the  Buddhist  church,  and  habit- 
ually sneer  at  Buddhist  priests."  For  the  "  most "  in  the 
former  of  these  two  sentences  I  would  substitute  "  nearly  all ;  " 
and  between  my  friend's  "  but  "  and  "  emotionally  "  I  would 
introduce  "  many  are,"  and  would  not  care  to  contest  his  con- 
clusion further.  It  does  seem  to  me  preposterous  to  credit 
Buddhism  with  the  whole  of  the  vast  population  of  China,  the 
great  majority  of  whom  are  Confucianists.  My  own  opinion 
is  that  its  adherents  are  not  so  many  as  those  even  of  Moham- 
medanism, and  that  instead  of  being  the  most  numerous  of  the 
religions  (so-called)  of  the  world,  it  is  only  entitled  to  occupy 
the  fifth  place,  ranking  below  Christianity,  Confucianism, 
Brahmanism,  and  Mohammedanism,  and  followed,  some  dis- 
tance off,  by  Taoism.  To  make  a  table  of  percentages  of  man- 
kind, and  to  assign  to  each  system  its  proportion,  are  to  seem 
to  be  wise  where  we  are  deplorably  ignorant ;  and,  moreover,  if 
our  means  of  information  were  much  better  than  they  are,  our 
figures  would  merely  show  the  outward  adherence.  A  frac- 
tional percentage  might  tell  more  for  one  system  than  a  very 
large  integral  one  for  another. 

James  Legge. 


THE  TRAVELS   OF   FA-HIEN 

CHAPTER   I 
From  Ch<ang-gan  to  the  Sandy  Desert 

FA-HIEN  had  been  living  in  Ch'ang-gan.^  Deploring 
the  mutilated  and  imperfect  state  of  the  collection  of 
the  Books  of  Discipline,  in  the  second  year  of  the 
period  Hwang-che,  being  the  Ke-hae  year  of  the  cycle,-  he 
entered  into  an  engagement  with  Hwtiy-king,  Tao-ching, 
Hwuy-ying,  and  Hwuy-wei,  that  they  should  go  to  India  and 
seek  for  the  Disciplinary  Rules. 

After  starting  from  Ch'ang-gan,  they  passed  through  Lung,^ 
and  came  to  the  kingdom  of  K'een-kwei,*  where  they  stopped 
for  the  summer  retreat.  When  that  was  over,  they  went  for- 
ward to  the  kingdom  of  Now-t'an,  crossed  the  mountain  of 
Yang-low,  and  reached  the  emporium  of  Chang-yih.^  There 
they  found  the  country  so  much  disturbed  that  travelling  on 
the  roads  was  impossible  for  them.  Its  king,  however,  was 
very  attentive  to  them,  kept  them  in  his  capital,  and  acted  the 
part  of  their  danapati.*' 

^  Ch'ang-gan  is  still  the  name  of  the  third  year  of  the  period  Lung-gan  of  the 
principal  district  (and  its  city)  in  the  Eastern  Ts'in,  which  was  a.d.  399. 
department  of  Se-gan.  Shen-se.  It  had  ^  Lung  embraced  the  western  part  of 
been  the  capital  of  the  first  empire  of  Shen-se  and  the  eastern  part  of  Kan- 
Han  (B.C.  202  A.D.  24),  as  it  stibse-  suh.  The  name  remains  in  Lung  Chow, 
quently  was  that  of  Suy   (a.d.   589-618).  in  the  extreme  west  of  Shen-se. 

-  The     period     Hwang-che     embraced  *  K'een-kwei    was   the   second   king   of 

from   A.D.    399  to  414,   being  the  greater  "  the    Western    Ts'in."      Fa-hien    would 

portion  of  the  reign  of  Yao  Hing  of  the  find    him    at    his    capital,    somewhere    in 

After    Ts'in,    a     powerful    prince.       He  the    present    department    of     Lan-chow, 

adopted   Hwang-che  for  the  style  of  his  Kan-suh. 

reign   in   399,   and    the   cyclical    name   of  ^  Chang-yih  is  still  the  name  of  a  dis- 

that  year  was   Kang-tsze.     It  is  not  pos-  trict  in  Kan-chow  department,  Kan-suh. 

sible  at  this  distance  of  time  to  explain.  It   is  a  long  way   north    and   west   from 

if    it    could    be    explained,    how    Fa-hien  Lan-chow,   and   not   far   from    the   Great 

came  to  say  that  Ke-hae  was  the  second  Wall.     Its  king  at  this  time  was,  proba- 

ye^r  of  the  period.     It  seems  most  rea-  blv.  Twan-veh  of  "  the  northern  Leang." 

sonable  to  suppose  that  he  set  out  on  "  Dana     is     the     name     for     religious 

his    pilgrimage    in    a.d.    399,    the    cycle  charity,  the  first  of  the  six  paramitas,  or 

name    of    which    was    Ke-hae.      In    the  means   of   attaining  to    nirvana;    and    a 

Memoirs    of    Eminent    Monks  "    it    is  danapati    is    "  one    who    practises    dana 

said    that     our    author    started    in     the  and  thereby  crosses  the  sea  of  misery." 

213 


214  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

Here  they  met  with  Che-yen,  Hwuy-keen,  Sang-shao,  Pao- 
yun,  and  Sang-king;  and  in  pleasant  association  with  them, 
as  bound  on  the  same  journey  with  themselves,  they  passed 
the  summer  retreat  of  that  year^  together,  resuming  after  it 
their  travelling,  and  going  on  to  T'un-hwang,^  the  chief  town 
in  the  frontier  territory  of  defence  extending  for  about  eighty 
li  from  east  to  west,  and  about  forty  from  north  to  south. 
Their  company,  increased  as  it  had  been,  halted  there  for  some 
days  more  than  a  month,  after  which  Fa-hien  and  his  four 
friends  started  first  in  the  suite  of  an  envoy,  having  separated 
for  a  time  from  Pao-yun  and  his  associates. 

Le  Hao,  the  prefect  of  T'un-hwang,  had  supplied  them  with 
the  means  of  crossing  the  desert  before  them,  in  which  there 
are  many  evil  demons  and  hot  winds.  Travellers  who  en- 
counter them  perish  all  to  a  man.  There  is  not  a  bird  to  be 
seen  in  the  air  above,  nor  an  animal  on  the  ground  below. 
Though  you  look  all  round  most  earnestly  to  find  where  you 
can  cross,  you  know  not  where  to  make  your  choice,  the  only 
mark  and  indication  being  the  dry  bones  of  the  dead  left  upon 
the  sand. 


CHAPTER  H 

On  to  Shen-shen  and  thence  to  Khoten 

After  travelling  for  seventeen  days,  a  distance  we  may  cal- 
culate of  about  1500  li,  the  pilgrims  reached  the  kingdom  of 
Shen-shen,  a  country  rugged  and  hilly,  with  a  thin  and  barren 
soil.  The  clothes  of  the  common  people  are  coarse,  and  like 
those  worn  in  our  land  of  Han,^  some  wearing  felt  and  others 
coarse  serge  or  cloth  of  hair ;  this  was  the  only  difference  seen 
among  them.  The  king  professed  our  Law,  and  there  might 
be  in  the  country  more  than  four  thousand  monks,  who  were 
all  students  of  the  hinayana.^     The  common  people  of  this 

^  This  was  the  second   summer   since  had  ruled  it,  first  and  last,  for  between 

the  pilgrims   left    Ch'ang-gan.     We   are  four   and    five   centuries.      Occasionally, 

now,    therefore,    probably,    in    a.d.    400.  as  we  shall   immediately  see,  he   speaks 

*  T'un-hwang  is   still  the  name  of  one  of    "  the    territory    of    Ts'in    or    Ch'in," 

of  the  two  districts  constituting  the  de-  but  intending  thereby  only  the  kingdom 

partment    of    Gan-se,    the    mo€t    western  of   Ts'in,   having   its   capital   in    Ch'ang- 

of   the   prefectures   of    Kan-suh;    beyond  gan. 

the  termination  of  the  Great  Wall.  *  Meaning  the  "  small  vehicle,  or  con- 

^  This  is  the  name   which    Fa-hien   al-  veyance."     There  are  in    Buddhism   the 

ways    uses    when    he    would     speak    of  triyana,    or    "  three    different    means    of 

China,   his   native   country,   as   a  whole,  salvation,   i.e.   of  conveyance  across   the 

calling  it  from  the  great  dynasty  which  samsara,  or  sea  of  transmigration,  to  the 


THE  TRAVELS  OF   FA-HIEN 


^iS 


and  other  kingdoms  in  that  region,  as  well  as  the  Sramans,^  all 
practise  the  rules  of  India,  only  that  the  latter  do  so  more 
exactly,  and  the  former  more  loosely.  So  the  travellers  found 
it  in  all  the  kingdoms  through  which  they  went  on  their  way 
from  this  to  the  west,  only  that  each  had  its  own  peculiar  bar- 
barous speech.  The  monks,  however,  who  had  given  up  the 
worldly  life  and  quitted  their  families,  were  all  students  of  Ind- 
ian books  and  the  Indian  language.  Here  they  stayed  for 
about  a  month,  and  then  proceeded  on  their  journey,  fifteen 
days'  walking  to  the  northwest  bringing  them  to  the  country 
of  Woo-e.  In  this  also  there  were  more  than  four  thousand 
monks,  all  students  of  the  hinayana.  They  were  very  strict 
in  their  rules,  so  that  Sramans  from  the  territory  of  Ts'in  were 
all  unprepared  for  their  regulations.  Fa-hien,  through  the 
management  of  Foo  Kung-sun,  iiiaitre  d'hotellerie,  was  able 
to  remain  with  his  company  in  the  monastery  where  they  were 
received  for  more  than  two  months,  and  here  they  were  re- 
joined by  Pao-yun  and  his  friends.  At  the  end  of  that  time 
the  people  of  Woo-e  neglected  the  duties  of  propriety  and 
righteousness,  and  treated  the  strangers  in  so  niggardly  a  man- 
ner that  Che-yen,  Hwuy-keen,  and  Hwuy-wei  went  back 
towards  Kao-ch'ang,  hoping  to  obtain  there  the  means  of  con- 
tinuing their  journey.  Fa-hien  and  the  rest,  however,  through 
the  liberality  of  Foo  Kung-sun,  managed  to  go  straight  for- 
ward in  a  southwest  direction.  They  found  the  country  unin- 
habited as  they  went  along.  The  difficulties  which  they  en- 
countered in  crossing  the  streams  and  on  their  route,  and  the 
sufrerings  which  they  endured,  were  unparalleled  in  human 
experience,  but  in  the  course  of  a  month  and  five  days  they 
succeeded  in  reaching  Yu-teen. 


shores  of  nirvana.  Afterwards  the  term 
was  used  to  designate  the  different 
phases  of  development  through  which 
the  Buddhist  dogma  passed,  known  as 
the  mahayana,  hinayana,  and  madhya- 
mayana."  "  The  hinayana  is  the  sim- 
plest vehicle  of  salvation,  corresponding 


to  the  first  of  the  three  degrees  of  saint- 
ship."     E.  H.,  pp.  151-2.  45.  and  117. 

3  "  Sraman  "  may  in  English  take  the 
place  of  Sramana,  the  name  for  Bud- 
dhist monks,  as  those  who  have  sepa- 
rated themselves  from  (left)  their  fami- 
lies, and  quieted  their  hearts  from  all 
intrusion  of  desire  and  lust. 


2i6  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

CHAPTER  III 
Khoten — Processions  of  Images 

Yu-Teen  is  a  pleasant  and  prosperous  kingdom,  with  a 
numerous  and  flourishing  population.  The  inhabitants  all 
profess  our  Law,  and  join  together  in  its  religious  music  for 
their  enjoyment.  The  monks  amount  to  several  myriads, 
most  of  whom  are  students  of  the  mahayana.^  They  all  re- 
ceive their  food  from  the  common  store.  Throughout  the 
country  the  houses  of  the  people  stand  apart  like  separate  stars, 
and  each  family  has  a  small  tope-  reared  in  front  of  its  door. 
The  smallest  of  these  may  be  twenty  cubits  high,  or  rather 
more.  They  make  in  the  monasteries  rooms  for  monks  from 
all  quarters,  the  use  of  which  is  given  to  travelling  monks  who 
may  arrive,  and  who  are  provided  with  whatever  else  they  re- 
quire. 

The  lord  of  the  country  lodged  Fa-hien  and  the  others  com- 
fortably, and  supplied  their  wants,  in  a  monastery  called  Go- 
mati,  of  the  mahayana  school.  Attached  to  it  there  are  three 
thousand  monks,  who  are  called  to  their  meals  by  the  sound  of 
a  bell.  When  they  enter  the  refectory,  their  demeanor  is 
marked  by  a  reverent  gravity,  and  they  take  their  seats  in  reg- 
ular order,  all  maintaining  a  perfect  silence.  No  sound  is 
heard  from  their  alms-bowls  and  other  utensils.  When  any 
of  these  pure  men  require  food,  they  are  not  allowed  to  call 
out  to  the  attendants  for  it,  but  only  make  signs  with  their 
hands. 

Hwuy-king,  Tao-ching,  and  Hwuy-tah  set  out  in  advance 
towards  the  country  of  K'eeh-ch'a ;  but  Fa-hien  and  the  others, 
wishing  to  see  the  procession  of  images,  remained  behind  for 
three  months.  There  are  in  this  country  four  great  monas- 
teries, not  counting  the  smaller  ones.  Beginning  on  the  first 
day  of  the  fourth  month,  they  sweep  and  water  the  streets  in- 
side the  city,  making  a  grand  display  in  the  lanes  and  byways. 
Over  the  city  gate  they  pitch  a  large  tent,  grandly  adorned  in 

1  Mahayana  is  a  later  form  of  the  Bud-  nirvana,    may   be   compared   to    a   huge 

dhist   doctrine,   the   second   phase   of   its  vehicle. 

development  corresponding  to  the  state  2  A    worshipping    place,    an    altar,    or 

ot    a    Hodhisattva,    who,    being    able    to  temple, 
transport    himself    and    all    mankind    to 


THE  TRAVELS  OF   FA-HIEN  217 

all  possible  ways,  in  which  the  king  and  queen,  with  their 
ladies  brilliantly  arrayed,  take  up  their  residence  for  the  time. 

The  monks  of  the  Gomati  monastery,  being  mahayana  stu- 
dents, and  held  in  greatest  reverence  by  the  king,  took  prec- 
edence of  all  the  others  in  the  procession.  At  a  distance  of 
three  or  four  li  from  the  city,  they  made  a  four-wheeled  image 
car,  more  than  thirty  cubits  high,  which  looked  like  the  great 
hall  of  a  monastery  moving  along.  The  seven  precious  sub- 
stances^ were  grandly  displayed  about  it,  with  silken  streamers 
and  canopies  hanging  all  around.  The  chief  image  stood  in 
the  middle  of  the  car,  with  two  Bodhisattvas*  in  attendance  on 
it,  while  devas  were  made  to  follow  in  waiting,  all  brilliantly 
carved  in  gold  and  silver,  and  hanging  in  the  air.  When  the 
car  was  a  hundred  paces  from  the  gate,  the  king  put  off  his 
crown  of  state,  changed  his  dress  for  a  fresh  suit,  and  with  bare 
feet,  carrying  in  his  hands  flowers  and  incense,  and  with  two 
rows  of  attending  followers,  went  out  at  the  gate  to  meet  the 
image ;  and,  with  his  head  and  face  bowed  to  the  ground,  he 
did  homage  at  its  feet,  and  then  scattered  the  flowers  and  burnt 
the  incense.  When  the  image  was  entering  the  gate,  the 
queen  and  the  brilliant  ladies  with  her  in  the  gallery  above  scat- 
tered far  and  wide  all  kinds  of  flowers,  which  floated  about  and 
fell  promiscuously  to  the  ground.  In  this  way  everything  was 
done  to  promote  the  dignity  of  the  occasion.  The  carriages 
of  the  monasteries  were  all  different,  and  each  one  had  its  own 
day  for  the  procession.  The  ceremony  began  on  the  first  day 
of  the  fourth  month,  and  ended  on  the  fourteenth,  after  which 
the  king  and  queen  returned  to  the  palace. 

Seven  or  eight  li  to  the  west  of  the  city  there  fs  what  is  called 
the  King's  new  monastery,  the  building  of  which  took  eighty 
years,  and  extended  over  three  reigns.  It  may  be  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  cubits  in  height,  rich  in  elegant  carving  and  in- 
laid work,  covered  above  with  gold  and  silver,  and  finished 
throughout  with  a  combination  of  all  the  precious  substances. 
Behind  the  tope  there  has  been  built  a  Hall  of  Buddha,  of  the 
utmost  magnificence  and  beauty,  the  beams,  pillars,  venetianed 
doors  and  windows,  being  all  overlaid  with  gold-leaf.      Be- 

•  The  Sapta-ratna,  gold,  silver,  lapis  necessarily  or  usually  the  next)  attain 
lazuli,  rock  crystal,  rubies,  diamonds  to  Ruddhahood.  The  name  does  not  in- 
or  emeralds,  and  agate.  elude  those   Buddhas  who  have  not  yet 

*  A  Bodhisattva  is  one  whose  essence  attained  to  parinirvana.  The  symbol  of 
has  become  intelligence;  a  Being  who  the  state  is  an  elephant  fording  a  river, 
will  in  some  future  birth  as  a  man   (not 


2i8  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

sides  this,  the  apartments  for  the  monks  are  imposingly  and 
elegantly  decorated,  beyond  the  power  of  words  to  express. 
Of  whatever  things  of  highest  value  and  preciousness  the  kings 
in  the  six  countries  on  the  east  of  the  Ts'ung  range  of  moun- 
tains are  possessed,  they  contribute  the  greater  portion  to  this 
monastery,  using  but  a  small  portion  of  them  themselves. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Through  the  Ts'ung  Mountains  to  K*eech-ch'a 

When  the  processions  of  images  in  the  fourth  month  were 
over,  Sang-shao,  by  himself  alone,  followed  a  Tartar  who  was 
an  earnest  follower  of  the  Law,  and  proceeded  towards  Ko- 
phene.  Fa-hien  and  the  others  went  forward  to  the  kingdom 
of  Tsze-hoh,  which  it  took  them  twenty-five  days  to  reach.  Its 
king  was  a  strenuous  follower  of  our  Law,  and  had  around  him 
more  than  a  thousand  monks,  mostly  students  of  the  maha- 
yana.  Here  the  travellers  abode  fifteen  days,  and  then  went 
south  for  four  days,  when  they  found  themselves  among  the 
Ts'ung-ling  mountains,  and  reached  the  country  of  Yu-hwuy, 
where  they  halted  and  kept  their  retreat.*  When  this  was 
over,  they  went  on  among  the  hills  for  twenty-five  days,  and 
got  to  K'eeh-ch'a,  there  rejoining  Hwuy-king  and  his  two 
companions. 

CHAPTER  V 

Great  Quinquennial  Assembly  of  Monks 

It  happened  that  the  king  of  the  country  was  then  holding 
the  paficha  parishad ;  that  is,  in  Chinese,  the  great  quinquen- 
nial assembly.  When  this  is  to  be  held,  the  king  requests  the 
presence  of  the  Sramans  from  all  quarters  of  his  kingdom. 
They  come  as  if  in  clouds ;  and  when  they  are  all  assembled, 
their  place  of  session  is  grandly  decorated.  Silken  streamers 
and  canopies  are  hung  out  in  it,  and  water-lilies  in  gold  and 

*  This    was    the    retreat    already    twice  the  season,  indicating  their  approach  to 

mentioned    as   kept    by    the   pilgrims    in  India.      Two,    if    not    three,    years    had 

the   summer,   the   different   phraseology,  elapsed  since  they  left  Ch'ang-gan.    Are 

"  quiet    rest,"    without    any    mention    of  we  now  with  them  in  402? 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  219 

silve;r  are  made  and  fixed  up  behind  the  places  where  the  chief 
of  them  are  to  sit.  When  clean  mats  have  been  spread,  and 
they  are  all  seated,  the  king  and  his  ministers  present  their 
offerings  according  to  rule  and  law.  The  assembly  takes  place 
in  the  first,  second,  or  third  month,  for  the  most  part  in  the 
spring. 

After  the  king  has  held  the  assembly,  he  further  exhorts  the 
ministers  to  make  other  and  special  offerings.  The  doing  of 
this  extends  over  one,  two,  three,  five,  or  even  seven  days  ;  and 
when  all  is  finished,  he  takes  his  own  riding-horse,  saddles, 
bridles,  and  waits  on  him  himself,  while  he  makes  the  noblest 
and  most  important  minister  of  the  kingdom  mount  him. 
Then,  taking  fine  white  woollen  cloth,  all  sorts  of  precious 
things,  and  articles  which  the  Sramans  require,  he  distributes 
them  among  them,  uttering  vows  at  the  same  time  along  with 
all  his  ministers ;  and  when  this  distribution  has  taken  place,  he 
again  redeems  whatever  he  wishes  from  the  monks. 

The  country,  being  among  the  hills  and  cold,  does  not  pro- 
duce the  other  cereals,  and  only  the  wheat  gets  ripe.  After 
the  monks  have  received  their  annual  portion  of  this,  the  morn- 
ings suddenly  show  the  hoar-frost,  and  on  this  account  the 
king  always  begs  the  monks  to  make  the  wheat  ripen  ^  before 
they  receive  their  portion.  There  is  in  the  country  a  spittoon 
which  belonged  to  Buddha,  made  of  stone,  and  in  color  like  his 
alms-bowl.  There  is  also  a  tooth  of  Buddha,  for  which  the 
people  have  reared  a  tope,  connected  with  which  there  are 
more  than  a  thousand  monks  and  their  disciples,  all  students 
of  the  hinayana.  To  the  east  of  these  hills  the  dress  of  the 
common  people  is  of  coarse  materials,  as  in  our  country  of 
Ts'in,  but  here  also  there  were  among  them  the  differences  of 
fine  woollen  cloth  and  of  serge  or  haircloth.  The  rules  ob- 
served by  the  Sramans  are  remarkable,  and  too  numerous  to 
be  mentioned  in  detail.  The  country  is  in  the  midst  of  the 
Onion  range.  As  you  go  forward  from  these  mountains,  the 
plants,  trees,  and  fruits  are  all  different  from  those  of  the  land 
of  Han,  excepting  only  the  bamboo,  pomegranate,  and  sugar- 
cane. 

1  Watters  calls  attention  to  this  as  showing  that  the  monks  of  K'eeh-ch'a 
had   the    credit    of   possessing   weather-controlling  powers. 


THE  TRAVELS  OE  FA-HIEN 


CHAPTER  VI 
North  India— Image  of  Maitreya  Bodhisattva 


From  this  the  travellers  went  westward  towards  North 
India,  and  after  being  on  the  way  for  a  month,  they  succeeded 
in  getting  across  and  through  the  range  of  the  Onion  moun- 
tains. The  snow  rests  on  them  both  winter  and  summer. 
There  are  also  among  them  venomous  dragons,  which,  when 
provoked,  spit  forth  poisonous  winds,  and  cause  showers  of 
snow  and  storms  of  sand  and  gravel.  Not  one  in  ten  thousand 
of  those  who  encounter  these  dangers  escapes  with  his  life. 
The  people  of  the  country  call  the  range  by  the  name  of  "  The 
Snow  mountains."  When  the  travellers  had  got  through 
them,  they  were  in  North  India,  and  immediately  on  entering 
its  borders,  found  themselves  in  a  small  kingdom  called  T'o- 
leih,  where  also  there  were  many  monks,  all  students  of  the 
hinayana. 

In  this  kingdom  there  was  formerly  an  Arhan,^  who  by  his 
supernatural  power  took  a  clever  artificer  up  to  the  Tushita^ 
heaven,  to  see  the  height,  complexion,  and  appearance  of 
Maitreya  Bodhisattva,^  and  then  return  and  make  an  image  of 
him  in  wood.  First  and  last,  this  was  done  three  times,  and 
then  the  image  was  completed,  eighty  cubits  in  height,  and 
eight  cubits  at  the  base  from  knee  to  knee  of  the  crossed  legs. 
On  fast-days  it  emits  an  effulgent  light.  The  kings  of  the 
surrounding  countries  vie  with  one  another  in  presenting 
ofiferings  to  it.     Here  it  is — to  be  seen  now  as  of  old. 


1  Lo-han,  Arhat,  Arahat  .are  all  desig- 
nations of  the  perfected  Arya,  the  dis- 
ciple who  has  passed  the  different  stages 
of  the  Noble  Path,  or  eightfold  excellent 
way,  who  has  conquered  all  passions, 
and  is  not  to  be  reborn  again.  Arhat- 
ship  implies  possession  of  certain  su- 
pernatural powers,  and  is  not  to  be  suc- 
ceeded by  Buddhaship,  but  implies  the 
fact  of  the  saint  having  already  attained 
Nirvana. 

2  Tushita  is  the  fourth  Devaloka, 
where  all  Bodhisattvas  are  reborn  be- 
fore finally  appearing  on  earth  as  Bud- 
dha.    Life   lasts    in    Tushita   four   thou- 


sand years,  but  twenty-four  hours  there 
are  equal  to  four  hundred  years  on 
earth. 

8  Maitreya  was  a  Bodhisattva,  the 
principal  one,  indeed,  of  Sakyamuni's 
retinue,  but  is  not  counted  among  the 
ordinary  disciples,  nor  is  anything  told 
of  his  antecedents.  It  was  in  the 
Tushita  heaven  that  Sakyamuni  met 
him  and  appointed  him  as  his  succes- 
sor, to  appear  as  Buddha  after  the  lapse 
of  five  thousand  years.  Maitreya  is 
therefore  the  expected  Messiah  of  the 
Buddhists,  residing  at  present  in 
Tushita. 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-iilEN  221 

CHAPTER  VII 
The  Perilous  Crossing  of  the  Indus 

The  travellers  went  on  to  the  southwest  for  fifteen  days 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  and  following  the  course  of  their 
range.  The  way  was  difficult  and  rugged,  running  along  a 
bank  exceedingly  precipitous,  which  rose  up  there,  a  hill-like 
wall  of  rock,  ten  thousand  cubits  from  the  base.  When  one 
approached  the  edge  of  it,  his  eyes  became  unsteady ;  and  if  he 
wished  to  go  forward  in  the  same  direction,  there  was  no  place 
on  which  he  could  place  his  foot ;  and  beneath  were  the  waters 
of  the  river  called  the  Indus.  In  former  times  men  had  chis- 
elled paths  along  the  rocks,  and  distributed  ladders  on  the  face 
of  them,  to  the  number  altogether  of  seven  hundred,  at  the 
bottom  of  which  there  was  a  suspension  bridge  of  ropes,  by 
which  the  river  was  crossed,  its  banks  being  there  eighty  paces 
apart.  The  place  and  arrangements  are  to  be  found  in  the 
Records  of  the  Nine  Interpreters,  but  neither  Chang  K'een^ 
nor  Kan  Ying^  had  reached  the  spot. 

The  monks  asked  Fa-hien  if  it  could  be  known  when  the 
Law  of  Buddha  first  went  to  the  east.  He  replied,  "  When  I 
asked  the  people  of  those  countries  about  it,  they  all  said  that 
it  had  been  handed  down  by  their  fathers  from  of  old  that,  after 
the  setting  up  of  the  image  of  Maitreya  Bodhisattva,  there 
were  Sramans  of  India  who  crossed  this  river,  carrying  with 
them  Siitras  and  Books  of  Discipline.  Now  the  image  was  set 
up" rather  more  than  three  hundred  years  after  the  Nirvana  of 
Buddha,  which  may  be  referred  to  the  reign  of  king  P'ing  of 
the  Chow  dynasty.  According  to  this  account  we  may  say 
that  the  diffusion  of  our  great  doctrines  in  the  East  began  from 
the  setting  up  of  this  image.  If  it  had  not  been  through  that 
Maitreya,  the  great  spiritual  master  who  is  to  be  the  successor 
of  the  ^akya,  who  could  have  caused  the  '  Three  Precious 

1  Chang  K'een,  a  minister  of  the  em-  ^  L^gg  jg  known  of  Kan  Ying  than  of 

peror     VVoo     of     Han     (b.c.     140-87),     is  Chang   K'een.     Being  sent  in  a.d.  88  by 

celebrated    as     the    first    Chinese     who  his  patron  Pan  Chao  on  an  embassy  to 

"  pierced   the   void,"   and   penetrated   to  the   Roman    empire,   he   only   got  as  far 

"  the  regions  of  the  west,"  correspond-  as    the    Caspian    sea,    and    returned    to 

ing  very  much   to  the   present   Turkes-  China.       He     extended,     however,     the 

tan.     Through  him,   by  B.C.   115,  a  regu-  knowledge   of   his   countrymen    with    re- 

lar  intercourse  was  established  between  gard  to  the  western  regions. 
China    and   the   thirty-six    kingdoms   or 
states  of  that  quarter. 


222  THE  TRAVELS  OF.  FA-HIEN 

Ones,'^  to  be  proclaimed  so  far,  and  the  people  of  those  border 
lands  to  know  our  Law  ?  We  know  of  a  truth  that  the  open- 
ing of  the  way  for  such  a  mysterious  propagation  is  not  the 
work  of  man ;  and  so  the  dream  of  the  emperor  Ming  of  Han 
had  its  proper  cause." 


CHAPTER  VHI 
Woo-chang,  or  UdylLna— Traces  of  Buddha 

After  crossing  the  river,  the  travellers  immediately  came  to 
the  kingdom  of  Woo-chang,  which  is  indeed  a  part  of  North 
India.  The  people  all  use  the  language  of  Central  India, 
"  Central  India  "  being  what  we  should  call  the  "  Middle  King- 
dom." The  food  and  clothes  of  the  common  people  are  the 
same  as  in  that  Central  Kingdom.  The  Law  of  Buddha  is 
very  flourishing  in  Woo-chang.  They  call  the  places  where 
the  monks  stay  for  a  time  or  reside  permanently  Sangharamas  ; 
and  of  these  there  are  in  all  five  hundred,  the  monks  being  all 
students  of  the  hinayana.  When  stranger  bhikshus^  arrive  at 
one  of  them,  their  wants  are  supplied  for  three  days,  after 
which  they  are  told  to  find  a  resting-place  for  themselves. 

There  is  a  tradition  that  when  Buddha  came  to  North  India, 
he  came  at  once  to  this  country,  and  that  here  he  left  a  print  of 
his  foot,  which  is  long  or  short  according  to  the  ideas  of  the 
beholder  on  the  subject.  It  exists,  and  the  same  thing  is  true 
about  it,  at  the  present  day.  Here  also  are  still  to  be  seen  the 
rock  on  which  he  dried  his  clothes,  and  the  place  where  he  con- 
verted the  wicked  dragon.  The  rock  is  fourteen  cubits  high, 
and  more  than  twenty  broad,  with  one  side  of  it  smooth. 

Hwuy-king,  Hwuy-tah,  and  Tao-ching  went  on  ahead  tow- 
ards the  place  of  Buddha's  shadow  in  the  country  of  Nagara ; 
but  Fa-hien  and  the  others  remained  in  Woo-chang,  and  kept 
the  summer  retreat.  That  over,  they  descended  south,  and 
arrived  in  the  country  of  Soo-ho-to. 

»  "  The  precious  Buddha,"  "  the  prec-  *  Bhikshu  is  the  name  for  a  monk  as 

ious   Law,"   and    "  the   precious    Monk-  "  living   by   alms,"    a     mendicant.     All 

hood";  Buddha,  Dharma,  and  Sangha;  bhikshus      call      themselves      Sramans. 

the    whole    being    equivalent    to    Bud-  Sometimes  the  two  names  are  used  to- 

dhism.  gether  by  our  author. 


THE  TRAVELS  UE  EA-HIEN  223 

CHAPTER   IX 

Soo-ho-to — Legends  of  Buddha 

In  that  country  also  Buddhism  is  flourishing.  There  is  in  it 
the  place  where  ^akra,*  Ruler  of  Devas,  in  a  former  age,  tried 
the  Bodhisattva,  by  producing  a  hawk  in  pursuit  of  a  dove, 
when  the  Bodhisattva  cut  off  a  piece  of  his  own  flesh,  and  with 
it  ransomed  the  dove.  After  Buddha  had  attained  to  perfect 
wisdom,  and  in  travelling  about  with  his  disciples  arrived  at 
this  spot,  he  informed  them  that  this  was  the  place  where  he 
ransomed  the  dove  with  a  piece  of  his  own  flesh.  In  this  way 
the  people  of  the  country  became  aware  of  the  fact,  and  on  the 
spot  reared  a  tope,  adorned  with  layers  of  gold  and  silver 
plates. 

CHAPTER   X 

Gandhara — Legends  of  Buddha 

The  travellers,  going  downwards  from  this  towards  the  east, 
in  five  days  came  to  the  country  of  Gandhara,  the  place  where 
Dharma-vivardhana,  the  son  of  Asoka,^  ruled.  When  Bud- 
dha was  a  Bodhisattva,  he  gave  his  eyes  also  for  another  man 
here ;  and  at  the  spot  they  have  also  reared  a  large  tope, 
adorned  with  layers  of  gold  and  silver  plates.  The  people  of 
the  country  were  mostly  students  of  the  hinayana. 

•  Sakra  is  a  common  name  for  the  He  was  the  grandson  of  Chandragupta, 
Brahmanic  Indra,  adopted  by  Bud-  a  rude  adventurer,  who  at  one  time  was 
dhism  into  the  circle  of  its  own  great  a  refugee  in  the  camp  of  Alexander  the 
adherents;— it  has  been  said,  "because  Great;  and  within  about  twenty  years 
of  his  popularity."  He  is  now  the  rep-  afterwards  drove  the  Greeks  out  of 
resentative  of  the  secular  power,  the  India,  having  defeated  Seleucus,  the 
valiant  protector  of  the  Buddhist  body,  Greek  ruler  of  the  Indus  provinces, 
but  is  looked  upon  as  inferior  to  Sakya-  His  grandson  was  converted  to  Bud- 
muni,   and   every   Buddhist   saint.  dhism  by  the  bold  and  patient  demean- 

'  Asoka  is  here  mentioned  for  the  first  or   of  an    Arhat   whom   he   had   ordered 

time— the   Constantine   of   the    Buddhist  to  be  buried  alive,  and  became  a  most 

society,  and  famous  for  the  number  of  zealous  supporter  of  the  new  faith, 
viharas    and    topes    which    he    erected. 


224 


THE  TRAVELS  OF   FA-HIEN 


CHAPTER  XI 
Takshasili — Legends — The  Four  Great  Topes 

Seven  days'  journey  from  this  to  the  east  brought  the  trav- 
ellers to  the  kingdom  of  Takshasila,  which  means  "  the  severed 
head  "  in  the  language  of  China.  Here,  when  Buddha  was  a 
Bodhisattva,  he  gave  away  his  head  to  a  man ;  and  from  this 
circumstance  the  kingdom  got  its  name. 

Going  on  further  for  two  days  to  the  east,  they  came  to  the 
place  where  the  Bodhisattva  threw  down  his  body  to  feed  a 
starving  tigress.  In  these  two  places  also  large  topes  have 
been  built,  both  adorned  with  layers  of  all  the  precious  sub- 
stances. The  kings,  ministers,  and  peoples  of  the  kingdoms 
around  vie  with  one  another  in  making  offerings  at  them.  The 
trains  of  those  who  come  to  scatter  flowers  and  light  lamps  at 
them  never  cease.  The  nations  of  those  quarters  call  those 
and  the  other  two  mentioned  before  "  the  four  great  topes." 


CHAPTER  XH 
Buddha's  Alms-bowl — Death  of  Hwuy-king 


Going  southwards  from  Gandhara,  the  travellers  in  four 
days  arrived  at  the  kingdom  of  Purushapura.^  Formerly, 
when  Buddha  was  travelling  in  this  country  with  his  disciples, 
he  said  to  Ananda,-  "  After  my  pari-nirvana,^  there  will  be  a 
king  named  Kanishka,  who  shall  on  this  spot  build  a  tope." 


1  The  modern  Peshawur. 

*  A  first  cousin  of  Sakyamuni,  and 
born  at  the  moment  when  he  attained 
to  Buddhaship.  Under  Buddha's  teach- 
ing, Ananda  became  an  Arhat,  and  is 
famous  for  his  strong  and  accurate 
memory;  and  he  played  an  important 
part  at  the  first  council  for  the  forma- 
tion of  the  Buddhist  canon.  The  friend- 
ship between  Sakyamuni  and  Ananda 
was  very  close  and  tender;  and  it  is  im- 
possible to  read  much  of  what  the  dying 
Buddha  said  to  him  and  of  him,  as  re- 
lated in  the  Mahapari-nirvana  SiJtra, 
without  being  moved  almost  to  tears. 
Ananda  is  to  reappear  on  earth  as 
Buddha  in   another  Kalpa. 

»  On  his  attaining  to  nirvana,  Sakya- 
muni became  the  Buddha,  and  had  no 


longer  to  mourn  his  being  within  the 
circle  of  transmigration,  and  could  re- 
joice in  an  absolute  freedom  from  pas- 
sion, and  a  perfect  purity.  Still  he  con- 
tinued to  live  on  for  forty-five  years, 
till  he  attained  to  pari-nirvana,  and  had 
done  with  all  the  life  of  sense  and  so- 
ciety, and  had  no  more  exercise  of 
thought.  He  died;  but  whether  he  ab- 
solutely and  entirely  ceased  to  be,  in 
any  sense  of  the  word  being,  it  would 
be  diflficult  to  say.  Probably  he  him- 
self would  not  and  could  not  have 
spoken  definitely  on  the  point.  So  far 
as  our  use  of  language  is  concerned, 
apart  from  any  assured  faith  in  and 
hope  of  immortality,  his  pari-nirvana 
was  his  death. 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 


22$ 


This  Kanishka  was  afterwards  born  into  the  world ;  and  once, 
when  he  had  gone  forth  to  look  about  him,  Sakra,  Ruler  of 
Devas,  wishing  to  excite  the  idea  in  his  mind,  assumed  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  little  herd-boy,  and  was  making  a  tope  right  in 
the  way  of  the  king,  who  asked  what  sort  of  a  thing  he  was 
making.  The  boy  said,  "  I  am  making  a  tope  for  Buddha." 
The  king  said,  "  Very  good ;  "  and  immediately,  right  over  the 
boy's  tope,  he  proceeded  to  rear  another,  which  was  more  than 
four  hundred  cubits  high,  and  adorned  with  layers  of  all  the 
precious  substances.  Of  all  the  topes  and  temples  which  the 
travellers  saw  in  their  journeyings,  there  was  not  one  compara- 
ble to  this  in  solemn  beauty  and  majestic  grandeur.  There 
is  a  current  saying  that  this  is  the  finest  tope  in  Jambudvipa.* 
When  the  king's  tope  was  completed,  the  little  tope  of  the  boy 
came  out  from  its  side  on  the  south,  rather  more  than  three 
cubits  in  height. 

Buddha's  alms-bowl  is  in  this  country.  Formerly,  a  king  of 
Yiieh-she  raised  a  large  force  and  invaded  this  country,  wish- 
ing to  carry  the  bowl  away.  Having  subdued  the  kingdom, 
as  he  and  his  captains  were  sincere  believers  in  the  Law  of 
Buddha,  and  wished  to  carry  off  the  bowl,  they  proceeded  to 
present  their  offerings  on  a  great  scale.  When  they  had  done 
so  to  the  Three  Precious  Ones,  he  made  a  large  elephant  be 
grandly  caparisoned,  and  placed  the  bowl  upon  it.  But  the 
elephant  knelt  down  on  the  ground,  and  was  unable  to  go  for- 
ward. Again  he  caused  a  four-wheeled  wagon  to  be  prepared 
in  which  the  bowl  was  put  to  be  conveyed  away.  Eight  ele- 
phants were  then  yoked  to  it,  and  dragged  it  with  their  united 
strength ;  but  neither  were  they  able  to  go  forward.  The  king 
knew  that  the  time  for  an  association  between  himself  and  the 
bowl  had  not  yet  arrived,  and  was  sad  and  deeply  ashamed  of 
himself.  Forthwith  he  built  a  tope  at  the  place  and  a  monas- 
tery, and  left  a  guard  to  watch  the  bowl,  making  all  sorts  of 
contributions. 

There  may  be  there  more  than  seven  hundred  monks. 
When  it  is  near  mid-day,  they  bring  out  the  bowl,  and,  along 
with  the  common  people,  make  their  various  ofiFerings  to  it, 
after  which  they  take  their  mid-day  meal.  In  the  evening,  at 
the  time  of  incense,  they  bring  the  bowl  out  again.  It  may  con- 

*Jambudvipa  is  one  of  the  four  great  Buddhists,  and  so-called  because  it  re- 
continents  of  the  universe,  representing  sembles  in  shape  the  leaves  of  the  j^m- 
the  inhabited  world  as  fancied  by  the       bu  tree. 

Vol  IY  -15 


2  26  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

tain  rather  more  than  two  pecks,  and  is  of  various  colors,  black 
predominating,  with  the  seams  that  show  its  fourfold  compo- 
sition distinctly  marked.  Its  thickness  is  about  the  fifth  of  an 
inch,  and  it  has  a  bright  and  glossy  lustre.  When  poor  people 
throw  into  it  a  few  flowers,  it  becomes  immediately  full,  while 
some  very  rich  people,  wishing  to  make  offering  of  many 
flowers,  might  not  stop  till  they  had  thrown  in  hundreds,  thou- 
sands, and  myriads  of  bushels,  and  yet  would  not  be  able  to  fill 
it.^ 

Pao-yun  and  Sang-king  here  merely  made  their  offerings  to 
the  alms-bowl,  and  then  resolved  to  go  back.  Hwuy-king, 
Hwuy-tah,  and  Tao-ching  had  gone  on  before  the  rest  to  Na- 
gara,  to  make  their  offerings  at  the  places  of  Buddha's  shadow, 
tooth,  and  the  flat-bone  of  his  skull.  There  Hwuy-king  fell 
ill,  and  Tao-ching  remained  to  look  after  him,  while  Hwuy-tah 
came  alone  to  Purushapura,  and  saw  the  others,  and  then  he 
with  Pao-yun  and  Sang-king  took  their  way  back  to  the  land 
of  Ts'in.  Hwuy-king  came  to  his  end  in  the  monastery  of 
Buddha's  alms-bowl,  and  on  this  Fa-hien  went  forward  alone 
towards  the  place  of  the  flat-bone  of  Buddha's  skull.*' 


CHAPTER   Xni 

Festival  of  Buddha's  Skull-bone 

Going  west  for  sixteen  yojanas,^  he  came  to  the  city  He-lo^ 
in  the  borders  of  the  country  of  Nagara,  where  there  is  the  flat- 
bone  of  Buddha's  skull,  deposited  in  a  vihara^  adorned  all  over 
with  gold-leaf  and  the  seven  sacred  substances.  The  king  of 
the  country,  revering  and  honoring  the  bone,  and  anxious  lest 
it  should  be  stolen  away,  has  selected  eight  individuals,  repre- 
senting the  great  families  in  the  kingdom,  and  committed  to 
each  a  seal,  with  which  he  should  seal  its  shrine  and  guard  the 
relic.  At  early  dawn  these  eight  men  come,  and  after  each  has 
inspected  his  seal,  they  open  the  door.     This  done,  they  wash 

•  Compare    the     narrative    in     Luke's  are  very  different,   and  vary  from  four 

Gospel,   xxi.    1-4.  and  a  half  or  five  miles  to  seven,  and 

'  [This    story    of    Hwuy-king's    death  sometimes    more, 

differs  from  the  account  given  in  chap-  ^  The   present    Hidda,    west    of    Pesha- 

ter   xiv.— Editor.]  wur.  and  five  miles  south   of  Jellalabad. 

1  Now  in  India,  Fa-hien  used  the  Ind-  *  "  The  vihara,"    fays   Hardy,   "is   the 

ian   measure   of   distance;    but   it   is    not  residence   of   a    recluse   or   priest;  "   and 

possible   to   determine   exactly  what   its  so  Davids — "  the  clean  little  hut  where 

length    then   was.     The   estimates  of   it  the  mendicant  lives." 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  227 

their  hands  with  scented  water  and  bring  out  the  bone,  which 
they  place  outside  the  vihara,  on  a  lofty  platform,  where  it  is 
supported  on  a  round  pedestal  of  the  seven  precious  sub- 
stances, and  covered  with  a  bell  of  lapis  lazuli,  both  adorned 
with  rows  of  pearls.  Its  color  is  of  a  yellowish  white,  and  it 
forms  an  imperfect  circle  twelve  inches  round,  curving  up- 
wards to  the  centre.  Every  day,  after  it  has  been  brought 
forth,  the  keepers  of  the  vihara  ascend  a  high  gallery,  where 
they  beat  great  drums,  blow  conches,  and  clash  their  copper 
cymbals.  When  the  king  hears  them,  he  goes  to  the  vihara, 
and  makes  his  offerings  of  flowers  and  incense.  When  he  has 
done  this,  he  and  his  attendants  in  order,  one  after  another, 
raise  the  bone,  place  it  for  a  moment  on  the  top  of  their  heads, 
and  then  depart,  going  out  by  the  door  on  the  west  as  they  had 
entered  by  that  on  the  east.  The  king  every  morning  makes 
his  offerings  and  performs  his  worship,  and  afterwards  gives 
audience  on  the  business  of  his  government.  The  chiefs  of 
the  Vaisyas*  also  make  their  offerings  before  they  attend  to 
their  family  affairs.  Every  day  it  is  so,  and  there  is  no  remiss- 
ness in  the  observance  of  the  custom.  When  all  of  the  offer- 
ings are  over,  they  replace  the  bone  in  the  vihara,  where  there 
is  a  vimoksha  tope,  of  the  seven  precious  substances,  and 
rather  more  than  five  cubits  high,  sometimes  open,  sometimes 
shut,  to  contain  it.  In  front  of  the  door  of  the  vihara,  there 
are  parties  who  every  morning  sell  flowers  and  incense,  and 
those  who  wish  to  make  offerings  buy  some  of  all  kinds.  The 
kings  of  various  countries  are  also  constantly  sending  messen- 
gers with  offerings.  The  vihara  stands  in  a  square  of  thirty 
paces,  and  though  heaven  should  shake  and  earth  be  rent,  this 
place  would  not  move. 

Going  on,  north  from  this,  for  a  yojana,  Fa-hien  arrived  at 
the  capital  of  Nagara,  the  place  where  the  Bodhisattva  once 
purchased  with  money  five  stalks  of  flowers,  as  an  offering  to 
the  Dipankara  Buddha.  In  the  midst  of  the  city  there  is  also 
the  tope  of  Buddha's  tooth,  where  offerings  are  made  in  the 
same  way  as  to  the  flat-bone  of  his  skull. 

A  yojana  to  the  northeast  of  the  city  brought  him  to  the 
mouth  of  a  valley,  where  there  is  Buddha's  pewter  staff ;  and  a 
vihara  also  has  been  built  at  which  offerings  are  made.     The 

*  The  Vaisyas,  or  the  bourgeois  caste  of   Hindu   society,   are  described   here 
as  "  resident  scholars." 


2  28  THE  TRAVELS  OF.  FA-HIEN 

staff  is  made  of  Gosirsha  Chandana,  and  is  quite  sixteen  or 
seventeen  cubits  long.  It  is  contained  in  a  wooden  tube,  and 
though  a  hundred  or  a  thousand  men  were  to  try  to  Hft  it,  they 
could  not  move  it. 

Entering  the  mouth  of  the  valley,  and  going  west,  he  found 
Buddha's  Sanghali,^  where  also  there  is  reared  a  vihara,  and 
offerings  are  made.  It  is  a  custom  of  the  country  when  there 
is  a  great  drought,  for  the  people  to  collect  in  crowds,  bring 
out  the  robe,  pay  worship  to  it,  and  make  offerings,  on  which 
there  is  immediately  a  great  rain  from  the  sky. 

South  of  the  city,  half  a  yojana,  there  is  a  rock-cavern,  in  a 
great  hill  fronting  the  southwest ;  and  here  it  was  that  Buddha 
left  his  shadow.  Looking  at  it  from  a  distance  of  more  than 
ten  paces,  you  seem  to  see  Buddha's  real  form,  with  his  com- 
plexion of  gold,  and  his  characteristic  marks  in  their  nicety, 
clearly  and  brightly  displayed.  The  nearer  you  approach, 
however,  the  fainter  it  becomes,  as  if  it  were  only  in  your  fancy. 
When  the  kings  from  the  regions  all  around  have  sent  skilful 
artists  to  take  a  copy,  none  of  them  have  been  able  to  do  so. 
Among  the  people  of  the  country  there  is  a  saying  current  that 
"  the  thousand  Buddhas  must  all  leave  their  shadows  here." 

Rather  more  than  four  hundred  paces  west  from  the  shadow, 
when  Buddha  was  at  the  spot,  he  shaved  off  his  hair  and  clipped 
his  nails,  and  proceeded,  along  with  his  disciples,  to  build  a 
tope  seventy  or  eighty  cubits  high,  to  be  a  model  for  all  future 
topes  ;  and  it  is  still  existing.  By  the  side  of  it  there  is  a  mon- 
astery, with  more  than  seven  hundred  monks  in  it.  At  this 
place  there  are  as  many  as  a  thousand  topes  of  Arhans  and 
Pratyeka  Buddhas. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

Crossing  the  Indus  to  the  East 

Having  stayed  there  till  the  third  month  of  winter,  Fa-hien 
and  the  two  others,  proceeding  southwards,  crossed  the  Little 
Snowy  mountains.  On  them  the  snow  lies  accumulated  both 
winter  and  summer.     On  the  north  side  of  the  mountains,  in 

*  Or  Sanghati,  the  double  or  composite  robe,   part  of  a  monk's  attire,   reaching 
from  the  shoulders  to  the  knees,   and  fastened  round  the  waist. 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  229 

the  shade,  they  suddenly  encountered  a  cold  wind  which  made 
them  shiver  and  become  unable  to  speak.  Hwuy-king  could 
not  go  any  farther.  A  white  froth  came  from  his  mouth,  and 
he  said  to  Fa-hien,  "  I  cannot  live  any  longer.  Do  you  imme- 
diately go  away,  that  we  do  not  all  die  here  " ;  and  with  these 
words  he  died.  Fa-hien  stroked  the  corpse,  and  cried  out  pit- 
eously,  "  Our  original  plan  has  failed ;  it  is  fate.  What  can  we 
do?"  He  then  again  exerted  himself,  and  they  succeeded  in 
crossing  to  the  south  of  the  range,  and  arrived  in  the  kingdom 
of  Lo-e,^  where  there  were  nearly  three  thousand  monks,  stu- 
dents of  both  the  mahayana  and  hinayana.  Here  they  stayed 
for  the  summer  retreat,-  and  when  that  was  over,  they  went  on 
to  the  south,  and  ten  days'  journey  brought  them  to  the  king- 
dom of  Poh-na,  where  there  are  also  more  than  three  thousand 
monks,  all  students  of  the  hinayana.  Proceeding  from  this 
place  for  three  days,  they  again  crossed  the  Indus,  where  the 
country  on  each  side  was  low  and  level. 


CHAPTER  XV 

Sympathy  of  Monks  with  the  Pilgrims 

After  they  had  crossed  the  river,  there  was  a  country 
named  Pe-t'oo,  where  Buddhism  was  very  flourishing,  and  the 
monks  studied  both  the  mahayana  and  hinayana.  When  they 
saw  their  fellow-disciples  from  Ts'in  passing  along,  they  were 
moved  with  great  pity  and  sympathy,  and  expressed  them- 
selves thus :  "  How  is  it  that  these  men  from  a  border-land 
should  have  learned  to  become  monks,  and  come  for  the  sake 
of  our  doctrines  from  such  a  distance  in  search  of  the  Law  of 
Buddha?"  They  supplied  them  with  what  they  needed,  and 
treated  them  in  accordance  with  the  rules  of  the  Law. 

*  Lo-e,  or  Rohi,  or  Afghanistan;  only  'We  arc  now  therefore  in  A.D.  404- 

a  portion  of  it  can  be  intended. 


23©  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

CHAPTER  XVI 
Condition  and  Customs  of  Central  India 

From  this  place  they  travelled  southeast,  passing  by  a  suc- 
cession of  very  many  monasteries,  with  a  multitude  of  monks, 
who  might  be  counted  by  myriads.  After  passing  all  these 
places,  they  came  to  a  country  named  Ma-t'aou-lo.  They  still 
followed  the  course  of  the  P'oo-na  river,  on  the  banks  of  which, 
left  and  right,  there  were  twenty  monasteries,  which  might  con- 
tain three  thousand  monks ;  and  here  the  Law  of  Buddha  was 
still  more  flourishing.  Everywhere,  from  the  Sandy  Desert, 
in  all  the  countries  of  India,  the  kings  had  been  firm  believers 
in  that  Law.  When  they  make  their  offerings  to  a  community 
of  monks,  they  take  ofi  their  royal  caps,  and  along  with  their 
relatives  and  ministers,  supply  them  with  food  with  their  own 
hands.  That  done,  the  king  has  a  carpet  spread  for  himself 
on  the  ground,  and  sits  down  on  it  in  front  of  the  chairman ; — 
they  dare  not  presume  to  sit  on  couches  in  front  of  the  com- 
munity. The  laws  and  ways,  according  to  which  the  kings 
presented  their  offerings  when  Buddha  was  in  the  world,  have 
been  handed  down  to  the  present  day. 

All  south  from  this  is  named  the  Middle  Kingdom.  In  it 
the  cold  and  heat  are  finely  tempered,  and  there  is  neither  hoar- 
frost nor  snow.  The  people  are  numerous  and  happy ;  they 
have  not  to  register  their  households,  or  attend  to  any  magis- 
trates and  their  rules ;  only  those  who  cultivate  the  royal  land 
have  to  pay  a  portion  of  the  gain  from  it.  If  they  want  to  go, 
they  go ;  if  they  want  to  stay  on,  they  stay.  The  king  governs 
without  decapitation  or  other  corporal  punishments.  Crimi- 
nals are  simply  fined,  lightly  or  heavily,  according  to  the  cir- 
cumstances of  each  case.  Even  in  cases  of  repeated  attempts 
at  wicked  rebellion,  they  only  have  their  right  hands  cut  off. 
The  king's  body-guards  and  attendants  all  have  salaries. 
Throughout  the  whole  country  the  people  do  not  kill  any  liv- 
ing creature,  nor  drink  intoxicating  liquor,  nor  eat  onions  or 
garlic.  The  only  exception  is  that  of  the  Chandalas.  That  is 
the  name  for  those  who  are  held  to  be  wicked  men,  and  live 
apart  from  others.     When  they  enter  the  gate  of  a  city  or  a 


THE  TRAVELS  OF   FA-HIEN  231 

market-place,  they  strike  a  piece  of  wood  to  make  themselves 
known,  so  that  men  know  and  avoid  them,  and  do  not  come 
into  contact  with  them.  In  that  country  they  do  not  keep 
pigs  and  fowls,  and  do  not  sell  live  cattle ;  in  the  markets  there 
are  no  butchers'  shops  and  no  dealers  in  intoxicating  drink. 
In  buying  and  selling  commodities  they  use  cowries.  Only 
the  Chandalas  are  fishermen  and  hunters,  and  sell  flesh  meat. 

After  Buddha  attained  to  pari-nirvana  the  kings  of  the  vari- 
ous countries  and  the  heads  of  the  Vaisyas  built  viharas  for 
the  priests,  and  endowed  them  with  fields,  houses,  gardens, 
and  orchards,  along  with  the  resident  populations  and  their 
cattle,  the  grants  being  engraved  on  plates  of  metal,  so  that 
afterwards  they  were  handed  down  from  king  to  king,  without 
any  one  daring  to  annul  them,  and  they  remain  even  to  the 
present.time. 

The  regular  business  of  the  monks  is  to  perform  acts  of  mer- 
itorious virtue,  and  to  recite  their  Sutras  and  sit  wrapped  in 
meditation.  When  stranger  monks  arrive  at  any  monastery, 
the  old  residents  meet  and  receive  them,  carry  for  them  their 
clothes  and  alms-bowl,  give  them  water  to  wash  their  feet,  oil 
with  which  to  anoint  them,  and  the  liquid  food  permitted  out 
of  the  regular  hours. ^  When  the  stranger  has  enjoyed  a  very 
brief  rest,  they  further  ask  the  number  of  years  that  he  has 
been  a  monk,  after  which  he  receives  a  sleeping  apartment  with 
its  appurtenances,  according  to  his  regular  order,  and  every- 
thing is  done  for  him  which  the  rules  prescribe. 

Where  a  community  of  monks  resides,  they  erect  topes  to 
Sariputtra,^  to  Maha-maudgalyayana,^  and  to  Ananda,  and 
also  topes  in  honor  of  the  Abhidharma,*  the  Vinaya,*  and  the 
Sfitras.*  A  month  after  the  annual  season  of  rest,  the  families 
which  are  looking  out  for  blessing  stimulate  one  another  to 
make  ofiferings  to  the  monks,  and  send  round  to  them  the 
liquid  food  which  may  be  taken  out  of  the  ordinary  hours. 
All  the  monks  come  together  in  a  great  assembly,  and  preach 
the  Law ;  after  which  ofiferings  are  presented  at  the  tope  of 

*  No  monk  can  eat  solid  food  except  disciples  of  Buddha,  and  indeed  the 
between  sunrise  and  noon,  and  total  most  learned  and  ingenious  of  them  all. 
abstinence  from  intoxicating  drinks  is  » Mugalan,  the  Singhalese  name  of 
obligatory.  Food  eaten  a*  any  other  this  disciple,  is  more  pronounceable.  He 
part  of  the  day  is  called  vikala,  and  for-  a'=i  was  me  of  the  principal  disciples, 
bidden;  but  a  weary  traveller  might  re-  called  Buddha's  "left-hand  attendant." 
ceive  unseasonable  r'"fre?hment,  con-  He  v.n.  distinguished  for  his  power  of 
sisting  of  honev,  butter,  treacle,  and  vision,  and  his  magic  powers, 
sesamum   oil.  *  The   different   parts   of   the   tripitaka. 

*  Sariputtra  was  one  of  the   principal 


^3^  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

Sariputtra,  with  all  kinds  of  flowers  and  incense.  All  through 
the  night  lamps  are  kept  burning,  and  skilful  musicians  are  em- 
ployed to  perform. 

When  Sariputtra  was  a  great  Brahman,  he  went  to  Buddha, 
and  begged  to  be  permitted  to  quit  his  family  and  become  a 
monk.  The  great  Mugalan  and  the  great  Kasyapa  also  did 
the  same.  The  bhikshunis^  for  the  most  part  make  their 
offerings  at  the  tope  of  Ananda,  because  it  was  he  who  re- 
quested the  World-honored  one  to  allow  females  to  quit  their 
families  and  become  nuns.  The  Sramaneras**  mostly  make 
their  offerings  to  Rahula.'^  The  professors  of  the  Abhidharma 
make  their  offerings  to  it;  those  of  the  Vinaya  to  it.  Every 
year  there  is  one  such  offering,  and  each  class  has  its  own  day 
for  it.  Students  of  the  mahayana  present  offerings  to  the 
Prajiia-paramita,  to  Manjusri,  and  to  Kwan-she-yin.  When 
the  monks  have  done  receiving  their  annual  tribute  from  the 
harvests,  the  Heads  of  the  Vaisyas  and  all  the  Brahmans  bring 
clothes  and  such  other  articles  as  the  monks  require  for  use, 
and  distribute  among  them.  The  monks,  having  received 
them,  also  proceed  to  give  portions  to  one  another.  From 
the  nirvana  of  Buddha,  the  forms  of  ceremony,  laws,  and  rules, 
practised  by  the  sacred  communities,  have  been  handed  down 
from  one  generation  to  another  without  interruption. 

From  the  place  where  the  travellers  crossed  the  Indus  to 
South  India,  and  on  to  the  Southern  Sea,  a  distance  of  forty  or 
fifty  thousand  li,  all  is  level  plain.  There  are  no  large  hills 
with  streams  among  them ;  there  are  simply  the  waters  of  the 


"  The     bhikshunis     are     the     female  Yasodhara.    Converted  to  Buddhism,  he 

monks    or    nuns,    subject    to    the    same  followed  his  father  as  an  attendant;  and 

rules  as  the  bhikshus,  and  also  to  spec-  after      Buddha's      death      became      the 

ial  ordinances  of  restraint.  founder     of     a     philosophical     realistic 

^  The     Sramaneras    are    the    novices,  school      (vaibhashika).         He     is     now 

male  or  female,  who  have  vowed  to  ob-  revered     as     the     patron     saint     of    all 

serve    the    Shikshapada,    or    ten    com-  novices,  and  is  to  be  reborn  as  the  eldest 

mandments.  son  of  every  future  Buddha. 

*  The    eldest    soa    of    Sakyamuni    by 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  233 

CHAPTER  XVII 
Legend  of  the  Trayastrimsas  Heaven 

From  this  they  proceeded  southeast  for  eighteen  yojanas, 
and  found  themselves  in  a  kingdom  called  Sankasya,  at  the 
place  where  Buddha  came  down,  after  ascending  to  the  Tray- 
astrimsas heaven/  and  there  preaching  for  three  months  his 
Law  for  the  benefit  of  his  mother.^  Buddha  had  gone  up  to 
this  heaven  by  his  supernatural  power,  without  letting  his  dis- 
ciples know ;  but  seven  days  before  the  completion  of  the  three 
months  he  laid  aside  his  invisibility,  and  Anuruddha,^  with 
his  heavenly  eyes,  saw  the  World-honored  one,  and  immedi- 
ately said  to  the  honored  one,  the  great  Mugalan,  "  Do  you  go 
and  salute  the  World-honored  one."  Mugalan  forthwith 
went,  and  with  head  and  face  did  homage  at  Buddha's  feet. 
They  then  saluted  and  questioned  each  other,  and  when  this 
was  over,  Buddha  said  to  Mugalan,  "  Seven  days  after  this  I 
will  go  down  to  Jambudvipa  " ;  and  thereupon  Mugalan  re- 
turned. At  this  time  the  great  kings  of  eight  countries  with 
their  ministers  and  people,  not  having  seen  Buddha  for  a  long 
time,  were  all  thirstily  looking  up  for  him,  and  had  collected 
in  clouds  in  this  kingdom  to  wait  for  the  World-honored  one. 

Then  the  bhikshuni  Utpala  thought  in  her  heart,  "  To-day 
the  kings,  with  their  ministers  and  people,  will  all  be  meeting 
and  welcoming  Buddha.  I  am  but  a  woman  ;  how  shall  I  suc- 
ceed in  being  the  first  to  see  him  ?  "  Buddha  immediately,  by 
his  spirit-like  power,  changed  her  into  the  appearance  of  a  holy 
Chakravartti  king,  and  she  was  the  foremost  of  all  in  doing 
reverence  to  him. 

*  The  heaven  of  Indra  or  Sakya,  mean-  he  receives  the  monthly  reports  of  the 

ing  "  the  heaven  of  thirty-three  classes,"  four  Maharajas,  concerning  the  progress 

a  name  which   has  been  explained  both  of  good  and  evil  in  the  world,"  etc.,  etc. 

historically   and   mythologically.     "  The  '  Buddha's   mother,   Maya  and   Maha- 

description  of  it,"  says  Eitel,  "  tallies  in  maya,    died    seven   days   after   his   birth, 

all    respects    with    the    Svarga    of    Brah-  *  Anuruddha     was    a    first     cousin     of 

manic  mythology.    It  is  situated  between  Sakyamuni,  being  the  son  of  his  uncle 

the  four  peaks  of  the  Meru,  and  consists  Amritodana.     He  is  often  mentioned  in 

of   thirty-two   cities   of   devas,    eight   on  the  account   we   have   of   Buddha's   last 

each   of  the  four   corners   of   the   moun-  moments.        His    special    gift    was     the 

tain.     Indra's  capital  of   Bellevue   is   in  "  heavenly   eye,"     the   first  of    the    six 

the  centre.     There  he  is  enthroned,  with  "  supernatural    talents,"    the    faculty    of 

a  thousand  heads  and  a  thousand  eyes,  comprehending     in     one     instantaneous 

and  four  arms  grasping  the  vajra,  with  view,   or  by  intuition,  all  beings  in   all 

his  wife  and  119,000  concubines.    There  worlds. 


234  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

As  Buddha  descended  from  his  position  aloft  in  the  Trayas- 
trimsas  heaven,  when  he  was  coming  down,  there  were  made 
to  appear  three  flights  of  precious  steps.  Buddha  was  on  the 
middle  ffight,  the  steps  of  which  were  composed  of  the  seven 
precious  substances.  The  king  of  Brahma-loka*  also  made 
a  flight  of  silver  steps  appear  on  the  right  side,  where  he  was 
seen  attending  with  a  white  chowry  in  his  hand.  Sakra,  Ruler 
of  Devas,  made  a  flight  of  steps  of  purple  gold  on  the  left  side, 
where  he  was  seen  attending  and  holding  an  umbrella  of  the 
seven  precious  substances.  An  innumerable  multitude  of  the 
devas  followed  Buddha  in  his  descent.  When  he  was  come 
down,  the  three  flights  all  disappeared  in  the  ground,  except- 
ing seven  steps,  which  continued  to  be  visible.  Afterwards 
king  Asoka,  wishing  to  know  where  their  ends  rested,  sent 
men  to  dig  and  see.  They  went  down  to  the  yellow  springs 
without  reaching  the  bottom  of  the  steps,  and  from  this  the 
king  received  an  increase  to  his  reverence  and  faith,  and  built 
a  vihara  over  the  steps,  with  a  standing  image,  sixteen  cubits 
in  height,  right  over  the  middle  flight.  Behind  the  vihara  he 
erected  a  stone  pillar,  about  fifty  cubits  high,  with  a  lion  on  the 
top  of  it.^  Let  into  the  pillar,  on  each  of  its  four  sides,  there 
is  an  image  of  Buddha,  inside  and  out  shining  and  transparent, 
and  pure  as  it  were  of  lapis  lazuli.  Some  teachers  of  another 
doctrine  once  disputed  with  the  Sramanas  about  the  right  to 
this  as  a  place  of  residence,  and  the  latter  were  having  the 
worst  of  the  argument,  when  they  took  an  oath  on  both  sides 
on  the  condition  that,  if  the  place  did  indeed  belong  to  the 
Sramanas,  there  should  be  some  marvellous  attestation  of  it. 
When  these  words  had  been  spoken,  the  lion  on  the  top  gave  a 
great  roar,  thus  giving  the  proof;  on  which  their  opponents 
were  frightened,  bowed  to  the  decision,  and  withdrew. 

Through  Buddha  having  for  three  months  partaken  of  the 
food  of  heaven,  his  body  emitted  a  heavenly  fragrance,  unlike 
that  of  an  ordinary  man.  He  went  immediately  and  bathed ; 
and  afterwards,  at  the  spot  where  he  did  so,  a  bathing-house 

♦This  was  Brahma,  the  first  person  elephant  on  the  top,  which,  however, 
of  the  Brahmanical  Trimurti,  adopted  was  minus  trunk  and  tail.  He  sup- 
by  Buddhism,  but  placed  in  an  inferior  poses  this  to  be  the  pillar  seen  by 
position,  and  surpassed  by  every  Bud-  Fa-hien,  who  mistook  the  top  of  it  for 
dhist  saint  who  attains  to  bodhi.  a   lion.      It    is   possible    such    a   mistake 

^A  note  of  Mr.   Beal  says  on  this: —  may  have  been  made,  as  in  the  account 

"  General  Cunningham,  who  visited  the  of  one  of  the  pillars  at  Sravasti,  Fa-hien 

Spot  (1862),  found  a  pillar,  evidently  of  says   an   ox   formed   the   capital,    whilst 

the  age  01  Asoka,    with   a   well-carved  Hsuan-chwang  calls  it  an  elephant," 


THE  TRAVELS  OF   FA-HIEN  235 

was  built,  which  is  still  existing.  At  the  place  where  the  bhik- 
shuni  Utpala  was  the  first  to  do  reverence  to  Buddha,  a  tope 
has  now  been  built. 

At  the  places  where  Buddha,  when  he  was  in  the  world,  cut 
his  hair  and  nails,  topes  are  erected ;  and  where  the  three  Bud- 
dhas®  that  preceded  Sakyamuni  Buddha  and  he  himself  sat; 
where  they  walked,  and  where  images  of  their  persons  were 
made.  At  all  these  places  topes  were  made,  and  are  still  exist- 
ing. At  the  place  where  Sakra,  Ruler  of  the  Devas,  and  the 
king  of  the  Brahma-loka  followed  Buddha  down  from  the 
Trayastrimsas  heaven  they  have  also  raised  a  tope. 

At  this  place  the  monks  and  nuns  may  be  a  thousand,  who 
all  receive  their  food  from  the  common  store,  and  pursue  their 
studies,  some  of  the  mahayana  and  some  of  the  hinayana. 
Where  they  live,  there  is  a  white-eared  dragon,  which  acts  the 
part  of  danapati  to  the  community  of  these  monks,  causing 
abundant  harvests  in  the  country,  and  the  enriching  rains  to 
come  in  season,  without  the  occurrence  of  any  calamities,  so 
that  the  monks  enjoy  their  repose  and  ease.  In  gratitude  for 
its  kindness,  they  have  made  for  it  a  dragon-house,  with  a  car- 
pet for  it  to  sit  on,  and  appointed  for  it  a  diet  of  blessing,  which 
they  present  for  its  nourishment.  Every  day  they  set  apart 
three  of  their  number  to  go  to  its  house,  and  eat  there.  When- 
ever the  summer  retreat  is  ended,  the  dragon  straightway 
changes  its  form,  and  appears  as  a  small  snake,  with  white 
spots  at  the  side  of  its  ears.  As  soon  as  the  monks  recognize 
it,  they  fill  a  copper  vessel  with  cream,  into  which  they  put  the 
creature,  and  then  carry  it  round  from  the  one  who  has  the 
highest  seat  at  their  tables  to  him  who  has  the  lowest,  when  it 
appears  as  if  saluting  them.  When  it  has  been  taken  round, 
immediately  it  disappears ;  and  every  year  it  thus  comes  forth 
once.  The  country  is  very  productive,  and  the  people  are 
prosperous,  and  happy  beyond  comparison.  When  people  of 
other  countries  come  to  it,  they  are  exceedingly  attentive  to 
them  all,  and  supply  them  with  what  they  need. 

•  These  three  predecessors  of  Sakya-  ni,  "  body  radiant  with  the  color  of 
muni  were  the  three  Buddhas  of  the  oure  gold":  of  the  same  family.  Hu- 
present  or  Maha-bhadra  Kalpa,  of  which  man  life  reached  in  his  time  thirty 
he  was  the  fourth,  and  Maitreya  is  to  be  thousand  years,  and  so  many  persons 
the  fifth  and  last.  They  were:  d)  Kra-  were  converted  by  him.  (3)  Kasyapa, 
kuchanda,  "  he  who  readily  solves  all  "  swallower  of  light."  Human  life 
doubts  ";  a  scion  of  the  Kasyapa  family.  reached  in  his  time  twenty  thousand 
Human  life  reached  in  his  time  forty  years,  and  so  many  persons  were  con- 
thousand  years,  and  so  many  persons  verted  by  him. 
were  converted  by  him.     (2)  Kanakamu- 


236  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

Fifty  yojanas  northwest  from  the  monastery  there  is  an- 
other, called  "  The  Great  Heap."  Great  Heap  was  the  name 
of  a  wicked  demon,  who  was  converted  by  Buddha,  and  men 
subsequently  at  this  place  reared  a  vihara.  When  it  was  being 
made  over  to  an  Arhat  by  pouring  water  on  his  hands,  some 
drops  fell  on  the  ground.  They  are  still  on  the  spot,  and  how- 
ever they  may  be  brushed  away  and  removed,  they  continue  to 
be  visible,  and  cannot  be  made  to  disappear. 

At  this  place  there  is  also  a  tope  to  Buddha,  where  a  good 
spirit  constantly  keeps  all  about  it  swept  and  watered,  without 
any  labor  of  man  being  required.  A  king  of  corrupt  views 
once  said,  "  Since  you  are  able  to  do  this,  I  will  lead  a  multi- 
tude of  troops  and  reside  there  till  the  dirt  and  filth  has  in- 
creased and  accumulated,  and  see  whether  you  can  cleanse  it 
away  or  not."  The  spirit  thereupon  raised  a  great  wind, 
which  blew  the  filth  away,  and  made  the  place  pure. 

At  this  place  there  are  many  small  topes,  at  which  a  man 
may  keep  counting  a  whole  day  without  being  able  to  know 
their  exact  number.  If  he  be  firmly  bent  on  knowing  it,  he 
will  place  a  man  by  the  side  of  each  tope.  When  this  is  done, 
proceeding  to  count  the  number  of  the  men,  whether  they  be 
many  or  few,  he  will  not  get  to  know  the  number.'^ 

There  is  a  monastery,  containing  perhaps  six  hundred  or 
seven  hundred  monks,  in  which  there  is  a  place  where  a  Pratye- 
ka  Buddha  used  to  take  his  food.  The  nirvana  ground  where 
he  was  burned  after  death  is  as  large  as  a  carriage  wheel ;  and 
while  grass  grows  all  around,  on  this  spot  there  is  none.  The 
ground  also  where  he  dried  his  clothes  produces  no  grass,  but 
the  impression  of  them,  where  they  lay  on  it,  continues  to  the 
present  day. 

CHAPTER   XVni 
Buddha's  Subjects  of  Discourse 

Fa-hien  stayed  at  the  Dragon  vihara  till  after  the  summer 
retreat,*  and  then,  travelling  to  the  southeast  for  seven  yojanas, 
he  arrived  at  the  city  of  Kanyakubja,  lying  along  the  Ganges. 
There  are  two  monasteries  in  it,  the  inmates  of  which  are  stu- 


'  This  would  seem  to  be  absurd;  but       mysterious    about    the    number   of     the 
the   writer   evidently    intended    to    con-       topes, 
vey  the  idea  that  there  was  something  >  This  was,  probably,  in  a.d.  405. 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  237 

dents  of  the  hinayana.  At  a  distance  from  the  city  of  six  or 
seven  H,  on  the  west,  on  the  northern  bank  of  the  Ganges,  is 
a  place  where  Buddha  preached  the  Law  to  his  disciples.  It 
has  been  handed  down  that  his  subjects  of  discourse  were  such 
as  "  The  bitterness  and  vanity  of  life  as  impermanent  and  un- 
certain," and  that  "  The  body  is  as  a  bubble  or  foam  on  the 
water."     At  this  spot  a  tope  was  erected,  and  still  exists. 

Having  crossed  the  Ganges,  and  gone  south  for  three  yoja- 
nas,  the  travellers  arrived  at  a  village  named  A-le,  containing 
places  where  Buddha  preached  the  Law,  where  he  sat,  and 
where  he  walked,  at  all  of  which  topes  have  been  built. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

Legend  of  Buddha's  Danta-kashtha 

Going  on  from  this  to  the  southeast  for  three  yojanas,  they 
came  to  the  great  kingdom  of  Sha-che.  As  you  go  out  of  the 
city  of  Sha-che  by  the  southern  gate,  on  the  east  of  the  road 
is  the  place  where  Buddha,  after  he  had  chewed  his  willow 
branch,  stuck  it  in  the  ground,  when  it  forthwith  grew  up  seven 
cubits,  at  which  height  it  remained,  neither  increasing  nor  di- 
minishing. The  Brahmans,  with  their  contrary  doctrines,  be- 
came angry  and  jealous.  Sometimes  they  cut  the  tree  down, 
sometimes  they  plucked  it  up,  and  cast  it  to  a  distance,  but  it 
grew  again  on  the  same  spot  as  at  first.  Here  also  is  the  place 
where  the  four  Buddhas  walked  and  sat,  and  at  which  a  tope 
was  built  that  is  still  existing. 


CHAPTER  XX 

The  Jetavana  Vihara— Legends  of  Buddha 

Going  on  from  this  to  the  south,  for  eight  yojanas,  the  trav- 
ellers came  to  the  city  of  Sravasti  in  the  kingdom  of  Kosala, 
in  which  the  inhabitants  were  few  and  far  between,  amounting 
in  all  only  to  a  few  more  than  two  hundred  families  ;  the  city 
where  king  Prasenajit  ruled,  and  the  place  of  the  old  vihara  of 


238  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

Maha-prajapati  /  of  the  well  and  walls  of  the  house  of  the 
Vaisya  head  Sudatta;-  and  where  the  Angulimalya^  became 
an  Arhat,  and  his  body  was  afterwards  burned  on  his  attaining 
to  pari-nirvana.  At  all  these  places  topes  were  subsequently 
erected,  which  are  still  existing  in  the  city.  The  Brahmans, 
with  their  contrary  doctrine,  became  full  of  hatred  and  envy  in 
their  hearts,  and  wished  to  destroy  them,  but  there  came  from 
the  heavens  such  a  storm  of  crashing  thunder  and  flashing 
lightning  that  they  were  not  able  in  the  end  to  effect  their  pur- 
pose. 

As  you  go  out  from  the  city  by  the  south  gate,  and  one 
thousand  two  hundred  paces  from  it,  the  Vaisya  head  Sudatta 
built  a  vihara,  facing  the  south ;  and  when  the  door  was  open, 
on  each  side  of  it  there  was  a  stone  pillar,  with  the  figure  of  a 
wheel  on  the  top  of  that  on  the  left,  and  the  figure  of  an  ox  on 
the  top  of  that  on  the  right.  On  the  left  and  right  of  the  build- 
ing the  ponds  of  water  clear  and  pure,  the  thickets  of  trees 
always  luxuriant,  and  the  numerous  flowers  of  various  hues, 
constituted  a  lovely  scene,  the  whole  forming  what  is  called 
the  Jetavana  vihara. 

When  Buddha  went  up  to  the  Trayastrimsas  heaven,  and 
preached  the  Law  for  the  benefit  of  his  mother,  after  he  had 
been  absent  for  ninety  days,  Prasenajit,  longing  to  see  him, 
caused  an  image  of  him  to  be  carved  in  Gosirsha  Chandana 
wood,  and  put  in  the  place  where  he  usually  sat.  When  Bud- 
dha, on  his  return  entered  the  vihara,  this  image  immediately 
left  its  place,  and  came  forth  to  meet  him.  Buddha  said  to  it, 
"  Return  to  your  seat.  After  I  have  attained  to  pari-nirvana, 
you  will  serve  as  a  pattern  to  the  four  classes  of  my  disciples,"* 
and  on  this  the  image  returned  to  its  seat.  This  was  the  very 
first  of  all  the  images  of  Buddha,  and  that  which  men  subse- 

'  Explained  by  "  Path  of  Love,"  and  force  of  circumstances.     Being  convert- 

"  Lord  of  Life."    Prajapati  was  aunt  and  ed  by  Buddha,  he  became  a  monk, 

nurse    of    Sakyamuni,    the    first    woman  *  Arya,    meaning   "  honorable,"    "  ven- 

admitted  to  the  monkhood,  and  the  first  erable,"    is   a   title   given   only   to   those 

superior    of     the    first    Buddhistic     con-  who    have    mastered    the    four    spiritual 

vent.     She  is  yet  to  become  a  Buddha.  truths:— (i)    that   "misery"   is   a   neces- 

^  Sudatta,    meaning    "  almsiiver,"    was  sary  condition  of  all   sentient  existence; 

the    original    name    of    .Vnntha-pindika,  this  is  duhka:   (2)   that  the  "  accumula- 

3   wealthy  householder,  or  Vaisya  head,  tion  "   of   misery   is  caused    by   the   pas- 

of    Sravasti,    famous    for    his    liberality.  sions;    this    is    samudaya:    (3)    that    the 

Of    his    old    house,    only    the    well    and  "extinction"     of    passion    is     possible; 

walls  remainedat  the  time  of  Fa-hien's  this  is  nirodha:  and  (4)  that  the  "path  " 

visit  to  Sravasti.  _  leads  to  the  extinction  of  passion;  which 

'  The  Angulimalya  were  a  sect  or  set  is  marga.    According^o  their  attainment 

of    Sivaitic   fanatics,    who    made   assassi-  of  these  truths,  the  Aryas,  or  followers 

nation  a  religious  act.     The  one  of  them  of  Buddha,   are  distinguished   into   four 

here  mentioned  had  joined  them  by  the  classes— Srotapannas,        Sakridagamins, 

Anagamins,  and  Arbats. 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 


«39 


quently  copied.  Buddha  then  removed,  and  dwelt  in  a  small 
vihara  on  the  south  side  of  the  other,  a  different  place  from 
that  containing  the  image,  and  twenty  paces  distant  from  it. 

Ihe  Jetavana  vihara  was  originally  of  seven  stories.  The 
kings  and  people  of  the  countries  around  vied  with  one  another 
in  their  offerings,  hanging  up  about  it  silken  streamers  and  can- 
opies, scattering  Howers,  burning  incense,  and  lighting  lamps, 
so  as  to  make  the  night  as  bright  as  the  day.  This  they  did 
day  after  day  without  ceasing.  It  happened  that  a  rat,  carry- 
ing in  its  mouth  the  wick  of  a  lamp,  set  one  of  the  streamers 
or  canopies  on  fire,  which  caught  the  vihara,  and  the  seven 
stories  \Vere  all  consumed.  The  kings,  with  their  officers  and 
people,  were  all  very  sad  and  distressed,  supposing  that  the 
sandal-wood  image  had  been  burned ;  but  lo !  after  four  or  five 
days,  when  the  door  of  a  small  vihara  on  the  east  was  opened, 
there  was  immediately  seen  the  original  image.  They  were 
all  greatly  rejoiced,  and  co-operated  in  restoring  the  vihara. 
When  they  had  succeeded  in  completing  two  stories,  they  re- 
moved the  image  back  to  its  former  place. 

When  Fa-hien  and  Tao-ching  first  arrived  at  the  Jetavana 
monastery,  and  thought  how  the  World-honored  one  had 
formerly  resided  there  for  twenty-five  years,  painful  reflections 
arose  in  their  minds.  Born  in  a  border-land,  along  with  their 
like-minded  friends,  they  had  travelled  through  so  many  king- 
doms ;  some  of  those  friends  had  returned  to  their  own  land, 
and  some  had  died,  proving  the  impermanence  and  uncertainty 
of  life ;  and  to-day  they  saw  the  place  where  Buddha  had  lived 
now  unoccupied  by  him.  They  were  melancholy  through 
their  pain  of  heart,  and  the  crowd  of  monks  came  out,  and 
asked  them  from  what  kingdom  they  were  come.  "  We  are 
come,"  they  replied,  "  from  the  land  of  Han."  "  Strange," 
said  the  monks  with  a  sigh,  "  tliat  men  of  a  border  country 
should  be  able  to  come  here  in  search  of  our  Law !  "  Then 
they  said  to  one  another,  "  During  all  the  time  that  we,  pre- 
ceptors and  monks,  have  succeeded  to  one  another,  we  have 
never  seen  men  of  Han,  followers  of  our  system,  arrive  here." 

Four  li  to  the  northwest  of  the  vihara  there  is  a  grove  called 
"  The  Getting  of  Eyes."  Formerly  there  were  five  hundred 
blind  men,  who  lived  here  in  order  that  they  might  be  near  the 
vihara.  Buddha  preached  his  Law  to  them,  and  they  all  got 
back  their  eyesight.     Full  of  joy,  they  stuck  their  staves  in  the 


240  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

earth,  and  with  their  heads  and  faces  on  the  ground,  did  rever- 
ence. The  staves  immediately  began  to  grow,  and  they  grew 
to  be  great.  People  made  much  of  them,  and  no  one  dared 
to  cut  them  down,  so  that  they  came  to  form  a  grove.  It  was 
in  this  way  that  it  got  its  name,  and  most  of  the  Jetavana 
monks,  after  they  had  taken  their  mid-day  meal,  went  to  the 
grove,  and  sat  there  in  meditation. 

Six  or  seven  li  northeast  from  the  Jetavana,  mother  Vaisak- 
ha  built  another  vihara,  to  which  she  invited  Buddha  and  his 
monks,  and  which  is  still  existing. 

To  each  of  the  great  residences  for  the  monks  at  the  Jeta- 
vana vihara  there  were  two  gates,  one  facing  the  east  and  the 
other  facing  the  north.  The  park  containing  the  whole  was  the 
space  of  ground  which  the  Vaisaya  head,  Sudatta,  purchased 
by  covering  it  with  gold  coins.  The  vihara  was  exactly  in  the 
centre.  Here  Buddha  lived  for  a  longer  time  than  at  any 
other  place,  preaching  his  Law  and  converting  men.  At  the 
places  where  he  walked  and  sat  they  also  subsequently  reared 
topes,  each  having  its  particular  name ;  and  here  was  the  place 
where  Sundari^  murdered  a  person  and  then  falsely  charged 
Buddha  with  the  crime.  Outside  the  east  gate  of  the  Jetavana, 
at  a  distance  of  seventy  paces  to  the  north,  on  the  west  of  the 
road,  Buddha  held  a  discussion  with  the  advocates  of  the  nine- 
ty-six schemes  of  erroneous  doctrine,  when  the  king  and  his 
great  officers,  the  householders,  and  people  were  all  assembled 
in  crowds  to  hear  it.  Then  a  woman  belonging  to  one  of  the 
erroneous  systems,  by  name  Chaiichamana,  prompted  by  the 
envious  hatred  in  her  heart,  and  having  put  on  extra  clothes  in 
front  of  her  person,  so  as  to  give  her  the  appearance  of  being 
with  child,  falsely  accused  Buddha  before  all  the  assembly  of 
having  acted  unlawfully  towards  her.  On  this,  Sakra,  Ruler 
of  Devas,  changed  himself  and  some  devas  into  white  mice, 
which  bit  through  the  strings  about  her  waist ;  and  when  this 
was  done,  the  extra  clothes  which  she  wore  dropped  down  on 
the  ground.  The  earth  at  the  same  time  was  rent,  and  she 
went  down  alive  into  hell.  This  also  is  the  place  where  Deva- 
datta,  trying  with  empoisoned  claws  to  injure  Buddha,  went 

» Hsuan-chwang    does    not    give    the  Western  Countries,"  where  the  murder 

name  of  this  murderer:   see  in  JuHen's  is  committed  by  several  Brahmacharins. 

..  ^'^  ^*  Voyages   de  Hiouen-thsang  "—  In  this  passage  Beal   makes  Sundari  to 

a   heretrcal    Brahman   killed   a   woman  be    the    name   of   the   murdered    person, 

and  calumniated  Buddha."    See  also  the  But  the  text  cannot  be  so  construed. 
fuller  account   in    Deal's   "  Records    of 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  241 

down  alive  into  hell.     Men  subsequently  set  up  marks  to  dis- 
tinguish where  both  these  events  took  place. 

Further,  at  the  place  where  the  discussion  took  place,  they 
reared  a  vihara  rather  more  than  sixty  cubits  high,  having  in  it 
an  image  of  Buddha  in  a  sitting  posture.  On  the  east  of  the 
road  there  was  a  devalaya*^  of  one  of  the  contrary  systems, 
called  "  The  Shadow  Covered,"  right  opposite  the  vihara  on 
the  place  of  discussion,  with  only  the  road  between  them,  and 
also  rather  more  than  sixty  cubits  high.  The  reason  why  it 
was  called  "  The  Shadow  Covered  "  was  this :  When  the  sun 
was  in  the  west,  the  shadow  of  the  vihara  of  the  World-honored 
one  fell  on  the  devalaya  of  a  contrary  system ;  but  when  the 
sun  was  in  the  east,  the  shadow  of  that  devalaya  was  diverted 
to  the  north,  and  never  fell  on  the  vihara  of  Buddha.  The  mal- 
believers  regularly  employed  men  to  watch  their  devalaya,  to 
sweep  and  water  all  about  it,  to  burn  incense,  light  the  lamps, 
and  present  offerings ;  but  in  the  morning  the  lamps  were 
found  to  have  been  suddenly  removed,  and  in  the  vihara  of 
Buddha.  The  Brahmans  were  indignant,  and  said,  "  Those 
^ramanas  take  our  lamps  and  use  them  for  their  own  service 
of  Buddha,  but  we  will  not  stop  our  service  for  you!  "^  On 
that  night  the  Brahmans  themselves  kept  watch,  when  they 
saw  the  deva  spirits  which  they  served  take  the  lamps  and  go 
three  times  round  the  vihara  of  Buddha  and  present  offerings. 
After  this  administration  to  Buddha  they  suddenly  disap- 
peared. The  Brahmans  thereupon  knowing  how  great  was 
the  spiritual  power  of  Buddha,  forthwith  left  their  families,  and 
became  monks.  It  has  been  handed  down,  that,  near  the  time 
when  these  things  occurred,  around  the  Jetavana  vihara  there 
were  ninety-eight  monasteries,  in  all  of  which  there  were 
monks  residing,  excepting  only  in  one  place  which  was  vacant. 
In  this  Middle  Kingdom  there  are  ninety-six  sorts  of  views, 
erroneous  and  different  from  our  system,  all  of  which  recog- 
nize this  world  and  the  future  world  and  the  connection  be- 
tween them.  Each  has  its  multitude  of  followers,  and  they  all 
beg  their  food :  only  they  do  not  carry  the  alms-bowl.  They 
also,  moreover,  seek  to  acquire  the  blessing  of  good  deeds  on 

•  A    devalaya    is   a    place   in    which    a  cumstances.      Compare    the    whole    ac- 

deva  is  worshipped — a  peneral  name  for  count    with   the   narrative   in    i    Samuel 

all  Brahmanical  temples.  v.     about    the    Ark    and    Dagon,    that 

'Their   speech   was   somewhat   uncon-  "twice-battered  god  of  Palestine." 
nected,  but  natural  enough  in  the  cir- 
VOL.  IV.— 16 


242 


THE  TRAVELS  OF   FA-HIEN 


unfrequented  ways,  setting  up  on  the  roadside  houses  of  char- 
ity, where  rooms,  couches,  beds,  and  food  and  drink  are  sup- 
pHed  to  travellers,  and  also  to  monks,  coming-  and  going  as 
guests,  the  only  difiference  being  in  the  time  for  which  those 
parties  remain. 

There  are  also  companies  of  the  followers  of  Devadatta  still 
existing.  They  regularly  make  offerings  to  the  three  previous 
Buddhas,  but  not  to  Sakyamuni  Buddha. 

Four  li  southeast  from  the  city  of  Sravasti,  a  tope  has  been 
erected  at  the  place  where  the  World-honored  one  encountered 
king  Virudhaha,  when  he  wished  to  attack  the  kingdom  of 
Shay-e,  and  took  his  stand  before  him  at  the  side  of  the  road. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
The  Three  Predecessors  of  Sakyamuni 

Fifty  li  to  the  west  of  the  city  brings  the  traveller  to  a  town 
named  Too-wei,  the  birthplace  of  Kasyapa  Buddha.  At  the 
place  where  he  and  his  father  met,  and  at  that  where  he  at- 
tained to  pari-nirvana,  topes  were  erected.  Over  the  entire 
relic  of  the  whole  body  of  him,  the  Kasyapa  Tathagata,  a  great 
tope  was  also  erected. 

Going  on  southeast  from  the  city  of  Sravasti  for  twelve  yo- 
janas,  the  travellers  came  to  a  town  named  Na-pei-kea,  the 
birthplace  of  Krakuchanda  Buddha.  At  the  place  where  he 
and  his  father  met,  and  at  that  where  he  attained  to  pari-nir- 
vana, topes  were  erected.  Going  north  from  here  less  than  a 
yojana,  they  came  to  a  town  which  had  been  the  birthplace  of 
Kanakamuni  Buddha.  At  the  place  where  he  and  his  father 
met,  and  where  he  attained  to  pari-nirvana,  topes  were  erected. 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  243 

CHAPTER  XXII 

Legends  of  Buddha's  Birth 

Less  than  a  yojana  to  the  east  from  this  brought  them  to  the 
city  of  Kapilavastu  ;  but  in  it  there  was  neither  king  nor  people. 
All  was  mound  and  desolation.  Of  inhabitants  there  were 
only  some  monks  and  a  score  or  two  of  families  of  the  common 
people.  At  the  spot  where  stood  the  old  palace  of  king  Sudd- 
hodana  there  have  been  made  images  of  his  eldest  son  and  his 
mother ;  and  at  the  places  where  that  son  appeared  mounted 
on  a  white  elephant  when  he  entered  his  mother's  womb,  and 
where  he  turned  his  carriage  round  on  seeing  the  sick  man 
after  he  had  gone  out  of  the  city  by  the  eastern  gate,  topes 
have  been  erected.  The  places  were  also  pointed  out  where 
the  rishi  A-e  inspected  the  marks  of  Buddhaship  on  the  body 
of  the  heir-apparent  when  an  infant ;  where,  when  he  was  in 
company  with  Nanda  and  others,  on  the  elephant  being  struck 
down  and  drawn  on  one  side,  he  tossed  it  away;^  where  he 
shot  an  arrow  to  the  southeast,  and  it  went  a  distance  of  thirty 
li,  then  entering  the  ground  and  making  a  spring  to  come 
forth,  which  men  subsequently  fashioned  into  a  well  from 
which  travellers  might  drink ;  where,  after  he  had  attained  to 
Wisdom,  Buddha  returned  and  saw  the  king,  his  father ;  where 
five  hundred  Sakyas  quitted  their  families  and  did  reverence  to 
Upali^  while  the  earth  shook  and  moved  in  six  different  ways ; 
where  Buddha  preached  his  Law  to  the  devas,  and  the  four 
deva  kings  and  others  kept  the  four  doors  of  the  hall,  so  that 
even  the  king,  his  father,  could  not  enter;  where  Buddha  sat 
under  a  nyagrodha  tree,  which  is  still  standing,  with  his  face 
to  the  east,  and  his  aunt  Maha-prajapati  presented  him  with  a 
Sanghali ;  and  where  king  Vaidurya  slew  the  seed  of  Sakya, 

'  The  Lichchhavis  of  Vaisali  had  sent  *  They    did    this,    probably,    to     show 

to  the  young  prince  a  very  fine  elephant;  their    humility,    for    Upali    was    only    a 

but  when  it  was  near  Kapilavastu,  Deva-  Sudra  by  birth,  and  had  been  a  barber; 

datta,  out  of  envy,  killed  j[t  with  a  blow  so   from   the   first   did    Buddhism   assert 

of  his  fist.     Nanda   (not_  Ananda,   but   a  its  superiority  to  the  conditions  of  rank 

half-brother     of      Siddhartha),     coming  and  caste,     tjpali  was  distinguished  by 

that   way,   saw  the  carcass  lying  on   the  his  knowledge  of  the  rules  of  discipline, 

road,  and  pulled  it  on  one  side;  but  the  and  praised  on  tl^rt  account  by  Buddha. 

Bodhisattva,   seeing  it  there,  took   it   by  He  was  one  of  the  three  leaders  of  the 

the  tail,  and  tos^^ed  it  over  seven  fences  first   synod,   and    the   principal   compiler 

and   ditches,   when   the  force  of   its  fall  of  the  original  Vinaya  books, 
made  a  great  ditch. 


244  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

and  they  all  in  dying  became  Srotapannas.^  A  tope  was  erect- 
ed at  this  last  place,  which  is  still  existing. 

Several  li  northeast  from  the  city  was  the  king's  field,  where 
the  heir-apparent  sat  under  a  tree,  and  looked  at  the  ploughers. 

Fifty  li  east  from  the  city  was  a  garden,  named  Lumbini, 
where  the  queen  entered  the  pond  and  bathed.  Having  come 
forth  from  the  pond  on  the  northern  bank,  after  walking 
twenty  paces,  she  lifted  up  her  hand,  laid  hold  of  a  branch  of  a 
tree,  and,  with  her  face  to  the  east,  gave  birth  to  the  heir-ap- 
parent. When  he  fell  to  the  ground,  he  immediately  walked 
seven  paces.  Two  dragon-kings  appeared  and  washed  his 
body.  At  the  place  where  they  did  so,  there  was  immediately 
formed  a  well,  and  from  it,  as  well  as  from  the  above  pond, 
where  the  queen  bathed,  the  monks  even  now  constantly  take 
the  water,  and  drink  it. 

There  are  four  places  of  regular  and  fixed  occurrence  in  the 
history  of  all  Buddhas :  first,  the  place  where  they  attained  to 
perfect  Wisdom  and  became  Buddha ;  second,  the  place  where 
they  turned  the  wheel  of  the  Law ;  third,  the  place  where  they 
preached  the  Law,  discoursed  of  righteousness,  and  discom- 
fited the  advocates  of  erroneous  doctrines ;  and  fourth,  the 
place  where  they  came  down,  after  going  up  to  the  Traya- 
strimsas  heaven  to  preach  the  Law  for  the  benefit  of  their 
mothers.  Other  places  in  connection  with  them  became  re- 
markable, according  to  the  manifestations  which  were  made 
at  them  at  particular  times. 

The  country  of  Kapilavastu  is  a  great  scene  of  empty  desola- 
tion. The  inhabitants  are  few  and  far  between.  On  the  roads 
people  have  to  be  on  their  guard  against  white  elephants*  and 
lions,  and  should  not  travel  incautiously. 

'  The   Srotapannas  are   the   first   class  them  the  Law.     They  died  in  the  faith, 

of  saints,  who  are  not  to  be  reborn  in  and   were  reborn   in   the   region   of  the 

a    lower   sphere,    but    attain   to    nirvana  four   Great    Kings.     Thence   they   came 

after   having    been    reborn    seven   times  back    and    visited    Buddha    at    JTetavana 

consecutively    as    men    or    devas.      The  in  the  night,  and  there  they  obtained  the 

Chinese    editions    state    there    were   one  reward  of  Srotapanna. 
thousand  of  the   Sakya  seed.     The   gen-  ♦  Fa-hien    does    not    say    that    he    him- 

eral  account  is  that  they  were  five  hun-  self   saw   any   of   these   white   elephants, 

dred,   all   maidens,   who   refused   to   take  nor  does  he  speak  of  the  lions  as  of  any 

their   place    in   king    Vaidiirya's    harem,  particular  color.     We  shall  find  by  and 

and    were    in    consequence    taken    to    a  by,  in  a  note  further  on,  that,  to  make 

pond,  and  had  their  hands  and  feet  cut  them    appear    more    terrible,    they    are 

off.     There  Buddha  came  to  them,  had  spoken  of  as  "  black" 
their  wounds  dressed,  and  preached  to 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  245 

CHAPTER   XXIII 
Legends  of  Rima  and  its  Tope 

East  from  Buddha's  birthplace,  and  at  a  distance  of  five 
yojanas,  there  is  a  kingdom  called  Rama.  The  king  of  this 
country,  having  obtained  one  portion  of  the  relics  of  Buddha's 
body,  returned  with  it  and  built  over  it  a  tope,  named  the 
Rama  tope.  By  the  side  of  it  there  was  a  pool,  and  in  the 
pool  a  dragon,  which  constantly  kept  watch  over  the  tope,  and 
presented  offerings  at  it  day  and  night.  When  king  Asoka 
came  forth  into  the  world,  he  wished  to  destroy  the  eight  topes 
over  the  relics,  and  to  build  instead  of  them  eighty-four  thou- 
sand topes. ^  After  he  had  thrown  down  the  seven  others,  he 
wished  next  to  destroy  this  tope.  But  then  the  dragon  showed 
itself,  and  took  the  king  into  its  palace;  when  he  had  seen  all 
the  things  provided  for  offerings,  it  said  to  him,  "  If  you  are 
able  with  your  offerings  to  exceed  these,  you  can  destroy  the 
tope,  and  take  it  all  away.  I  will  not  contend  with  you."  The 
king,  however,  knew  that  such  appliances  for  offerings  were 
not  to  be  had  anywhere  in  the  world,  and  thereupon  returned 
without  carrying  out  his  purpose. 

Afterwards,  the  ground  all  about  became  overgrown  with 
vegetation,  and  there  was  nobody  to  sprinkle  and  sweep  about 
the  tope ;  but  a  herd  of  elephants  came  regularly,  which 
brought  water  with  their  trunks  to  water  the  ground,  and  vari- 
ous kinds  of  flowers  and  incense,  which  they  presented  at  the 
tope.  Once  there  came  from  one  of  the  kingdoms  a  devotee 
to  worship  at  the  tope.  When  he  encountered  the  elephants 
he  was  greatly  alarmed,  and  screened  himself  among  the  trees  ; 
but  when  he  saw  them  go  through  with  the  offerings  in  the 
most  proper  manner,  the  thought  filled  him  with  great  sad- 
ness— that  there  should  be  no  monastery  here,  the  inmates  of 
which  might  serve  the  tope,  but  the  elephants  have  to  do  the 
watering  and  sweeping.  Forthwith  he  gave  up  the  great  pro- 
hibitions by  which  he  was  bound,  and  resumed  the  status  of  a 
Sramanera.     With  his  own  hands  he  cleared  away  the  grass 

1  The  bones  of  the  human  body  are  of  Asoka's  wish  to  build  eighty-four 
supposed  to  consist  of  eighty-four  thousand  topes,  one  over  each  atom  of 
thousand   atoms,  and  hence  the  legend       Sakyamuni's  skeleton. 


246  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

and  trees,  put  the  place  in  good  order,  and  made  it  pure  and 
clean.  By  the  power  of  his  exhortations,  he  prevailed  on  the 
king  of  the  country  to  form  a  residence  for  monks ;  and  when 
that  was  done,  he  became  head  of  the  monastery.  At  the 
present  day  there  are  monks  residing  in  it.  This  event  is  of 
recent  occurrence ;  but  in  all  the  succession  from  that  time  till 
now,  there  has  always  been  a  Sramanera  head  of  the  establish- 
ment. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 
Where  Buddha  Renounced  the  World 

East  from  here  four  yojanas,  there  is  the  place  where  the 
heir-apparent  sent  back  Chandaka,  with  his  white  horse ;  and 
there  also  a  tope  was  erected. 

Four  yojanas  to  the  east  from  this,  the  travellers  came  to  the 
Charcoal  tope,  where  there  is  also  a  monastery. 

Going  on  twelve  yojanas,  still  to  the  east,  they  came  to  the 
city  of  Kusanagara,  on  the  north  of  which,  between  two  trees, 
on  the  bank  of  the  Nairafijana  river,  is  the  place  where  the 
World-honored  one,  with  his  head  to  the  north,  attained  to 
pari-nirvana  and  died.  Tliere  also  are  the  places  where  Sub- 
hadra,*  the  last  of  his  converts,  attained  to  Wisdom  and  be- 
came an  Arhat ;  where  in  his  cofifin  of  gold  they  made  offerings 
to  the  World-honored  one  for  seven  days,  where  the  Vajrapani 
laid  aside  his  golden  club,  and  where  the  eight  kings  divided 
the  relics  of  the  burnt  body :  at  all  these  places  were  built  topes 
and  monasteries,  all  of  which  are  now  existing. 

In  the  city  the  inhabitants  are  few  and  far  between,  compris- 
ing only  the  families  belonging  to  the  different  societies  of 
monks. 

Going  from  this  to  the  southeast  for  twelve  yojanas,  they 
came  to  the  place  where  the  Lichchhavis  wished  to  follov^ 
Buddha  to  the  place  of  his  pari-nirvana,  and  where,  when  he 
would  not  listen  to  them  and  they  kept  cleaving  to  him,  un- 

•  A  Brahman  of  Benares,  said  to  have  be  introduced;  and  then  putting  aside 
been  one  hundred  and  twenty  years  old,  the  ingenious  but  unimportant  question 
whocame  to  learn  from  B.iddha  the  very        which  he  propounded,   preached  to  him 

nnuL  h-i'^K   »  n"^jj'i''  "'°J'''^  H"-'^  '■^"        ^^^.  ^-^'^-     '^^e   Brahmnn  was  converted 
pulsed  him;  but  Buddha  ordered  him  to       and  attained  at  once  to  Arhatship. 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  147 

willing  to  go  away,  he  made  to  appear  a  large  and  deep  ditch 
which  they  could  not  cross  over,  and  gave  them  his  alms-bowl, 
as  a  pledge  of  his  regard,  thus  sending  tliem  back  to  their 
families.  There  a  stone  pillar  was  erected  with  an  account  of 
this  event  engraved  upon  it. 


CHAPTER  XXV 
The  Kingdom  of  Vaisali 

East  from  this  city  ten  yojanas,  the  travellers  came  to  the 
kingdom  of  Vaisali.  North  of  the  city  so  named  is  a  large 
forest,  having  in  it  the  double-galleried  vihara  where  Buddha 
dwelt,  and  the  tope  over  half  the  body  of  Ananda.  Inside  the 
city  the  woman  Ambapali^  built  a  vihara  in  honor  of  Buddha, 
which  is  now  standing  as  it  was  at  first.  Three  li  south  of  the 
city,  on  the  west  of  the  road,  is  the  garden  which  the  same 
Ambapali  presented  to  Buddha,  in  which  he  might  reside. 
When  Buddha  was  about  to  attain  to  his  pari-nirvana,  as  he 
was  quitting  the  city  by  the  west  gate,  he  turned  round,  and, 
beholding  the  city  on  his  right,  said  to  them,  "  Here  I  have 
taken  my  last  walk."  Men  subsequently  built  a  tope  at  this 
spot. 

Three  li  northwest  of  the  city  there  is  a  tope  called,  "  Bows 
and  weapons  laid  down."  The  reason  why  it  got  that  name 
was  this :  The  inferior  wife  of  a  king,  whose  country  lay  along 
the  river  Ganges,  brought  forth  from  her  womb  a  ball  of  flesh. 
The  superior  wife,  jealous  of  the  other,  said,  "  You  have 
brought  forth  a  thing  of  evil  omen,"  and  immediately  it  was 
put  into  a  box  of  wood  and  thrown  into  the  river.  Farther 
down  the  stream  another  king  was  walking  and  looking  about, 
when  he  saw  the  wooden  box  floating  in  the  water.  He  had 
it  brought  to  him,  opened  it,  and  found  a  thousand  little  boys, 
upright  and  complete,  and  each  one  different  from  the  others. 
He  took  them  and  had  them  brought  up.     They  grew  tall  and 

>  Ambapali,  Amrapali,  /Jr  Amradarika,  Buddha,    Sakyamuni's   predecessor,   she 

*'  the   guardian    of  the   Amra    (probably  had   been   born   a   devi,   and  finally  ap- 

the  mango)  tree,"  is  famous  in  Buddhist  peared  in  earth  under  an  Amra  tree  in 

annals.     She  was  a  courtesan.     She  had  Vaisali.     There  again   she  fell   into   her 

been    in     many    narakas    or    hells,    was  old  ways,  and  had  a  son  by  king  Bimbi- 

one    hundred    thousand    times    a    female  sara ;  hut  she  was  won  over  by  Buddha 

beggar,  and  ten  thousand   times  a  pros-  to    virtue    and    chastity,    renounced    the 

titute;    but     maintaining     perfect    con-  world,   and  attained  to   the   state  of  an 

tinence   during    the   period   of    Kasyapa  Arhat. 


248  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

large,  and  very  daring  and  strong,  crushing  all  opposition  in 
every  expedition  which  they  undertook.  By  and  by  they  at- 
tacked the  kingdom  of  their  real  father,  who  became  in  con- 
sequence greatly  distressed  and  sad.  His  inferior  wife  asked 
what  it  was  that  made  him  so,  and  he  replied,  "  That  king  has 
a  thousand  sons,  daring  and  strong  beyond  compare,  and  he 
wishes  with  them  to  attack  my  kingdom ;  this  is  what  makes 
me  sad."  The  wife  said,  "  You  need  not  be  sad  and  sorrowful. 
Only  make  a  high  gallery  on  the  wall  of  the  city  on  the  east ; 
and  when  the  thieves  come,  I  shall  be  able  to  make  them  re- 
tire." The  king  did  as  she  said ;  and  when  the  enemies  came, 
she  said  to  them  from  the  tower,  "  You  are  my  sons ;  why  are 
you  acting  so  unnaturally  and  rebelliously  ?  "  They  replied, 
"  Who  are  you  that  say  you  are  our  mother?  "  "  If  you  do 
not  believe  me,"  she  said,  "  look,  all  of  you,  towards  me,  and 
open  your  mouths."  She  then  pressed  her  breasts  with  her 
two  hands,  and  each  sent  forth  five  hundred  jets  of  milk,  which 
fell  into  the  mouths  of  the  thousand  sons.  The  thieves  thus 
knew  that  she  was  their  mother,  and  laid  down  their  bows  and 
weapons.  The  two  kings,  the  fathers,  hereupon  fell  into  re- 
flection, and  both  got  to  be  Pratyeka  Buddhas.  The  tope  of 
the  two  Pratyeka  Buddhas  is  still  existing. 

In  a  subsequent  age,  when  the  World-honored  one  had  at- 
tained to  perfect  Wisdom  and  become  Buddha,  he  said  to  his 
disciples,  "  This  is  the  place  where  I  in  a  former  age  laid  down 
my  bow  and  weapons." ^  It  was  thus  that  subsequently  men 
got  to  know  the  fact,  and  raised  the  tope  on  this  spot,  which  in 
this  way  received  its  name.  The  thousand  little  boys  were  the 
thousand  Buddhas  of  this  Bhadra-kalpa.^ 

It  was  by  the  side  of  the  "  Weapons-laid-down  "  tope  that 
Buddha,  having  given  up  the  idea  of  living  longer,  said  to 
Ananda,  "  In  three  months  from  this  I  will  attain  to  pari-nir- 
vana  " ;  and  king  Mara*  had  so  fascinated  and  stupefied  Anan- 

» Thus    Sakyamuni    had    been    one    of  Buddhas  appear  in  the  course  of  it.  Our 

the  thousand  little  boys  who   floated  in  present    period    is   a    Bhadra-kalpa,    and 

the  box  in  the  Ganges.     How  long  back  four    Buddhas    have    already    appeared, 

the   former  age   was   we   cannot  tell.     I  It  is  to  last  two  hundred  and  thirty-six 

suppose  the  tope  of  the  two  fathers  who  millions  of  years,  but  over  one  hundred 

became     Pratyeka    Buddhas    had    been  and     fifty-one     millions     have     already 

built   like   the   one   commemorating   the  elapsed." 

laying   down   of  weapons   after   Buddha  *  "  The  king  of  demons."     The  name 

had    told    his    disciples    of    the    strsinge  Mara  is  explained  by  "  the  murderer," 

events   in   the   past.  "  the   destroyer   of   virtue,"   and    similar 

*  Bhadra-kalpa,       "  the       Kalpa        of  appellations.     He  is  the  personification 

worthies  or  sages."     "  This,"  says  Eitel,  of  lust,  the  god  of  love,  sin,  and  death, 

"is  a  designation  for  a   Kalpa  of   sta-  the  arch-enemy  of  goodness,  residing  in 

bility,   so-called   because   one   thousand  the  heaven   Paranirmita   Vasavartin   on 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 


249 


da,  that  he  was  not  able  to  ask  Buddha  to  remain  longer  in  this 
world. 

Three  or  four  li  east  from  this  place  there  is  a  tope  com- 
memorating the  following  occurrence :  A  hundred  years  after 
the  pari-nirvana  of  Buddha,  some  Bhikshus  of  Vaisali  went 
wrong  in  the  matter  of  the  disciplinary  rules  in  ten  particulars, 
and  appealed  for  their  justification  to  what  they  said  were  the 
words  of  Buddha.  Hereupon  the  Arhats  and  Bhikshus  ob- 
servant of  the  rules,  to  the  number  in  all  of  seven  hundred 
monks,  examined  afresh  and  collated  the  collection  of  disci- 
plinary books.^  Subsequently  men  built  at  this  place  the  tope 
in  question,  which  is  still  existing. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

Remarkable  Death  of  Ananda 

Four  yojanas  on  from  this  place  to  the  east  brought  the 
travellers  to  the  confluence  of  the  five  rivers.  When  Ananda 
was  going  from  Magadha  to  Vaisali,  wishing  his  pari-nirvana 
to  take  place  there,  the  devas  informed  king  Ajatasatru^  of  it, 
and  the  king  immediately  pursued  him,  in  his  own  grand  car- 
riage, with  a  body  of  soldiers,  and  had  reached  the  river.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  Lichchhavis  of  Vaisali  had  heard  that 
Ananda  was  coming  to  their  city,  and  they  on  their  part  came 
to  meet  him.  In  this  way,  they  all  arrived  together  at  the 
river,  and  Ananda  considered  that,  if  he  went  forward,  king 
Ajatasatru  would  be  very  angry,  while,  if  he  went  back,  the 
Lichchhavis  would  resent  his  conduct.  He  thereupon  in  the 
very  middle  of  the  river  burnt  his  body  in  a  fiery  ecstasy  of 
Samadhi,^  and  his  pari-nirvana  was  attained.     He  divided  his 

the  top  of  the  Kamadhatu.    He  assumes  •  He  was  the  son  of  king  Bimbisara, 

difTerent     forms,     especially    monstrous  who  was  one  of  the  first  royal  converts 

ones,    to   tempt   or   frighten   the    saints,  to     Buddhism.      Ajasat     murdered     his 

or     sends    his     daughters,    or     inspires  father,    or    at    least   wrought    his    death; 

wicked  men  like  Devadatta  or  the  Nir-  and  was  at  first  opposed  to  Sakyamuni, 

granthas  to  do  his  work.     He  is  often  and     a     favorer     of     Devadotta.     When 

represented  with  one  hundred  arms,  and  converted,    he    became    famous    for    his 

riding  on  an  elephant.  liberality  in  almsgiving. 

"  Or  the  Vinaya-pitaka.     The   meeting  2  «  Samadhi,"     says     Eitel,     "  signifies 

referred  to  was  an  important  one,  and  is  the    highest    pitch    of    abstract,    ecstatic 

generally  spoken  of  as  the  second  Great  meditation;  a  state  of  absolute  indiflfer- 

Council   of  the    Buddhist    Church.     Tlie  ence    to    all    influences    from    within    or 

first  Council  was  that  held  at  Rajagriha,  without;   a   state   of   torpor   of   both    the 

short! v  after  Buddha's  death,   under  the  material  and  spiritual  forces  of  vitality; 

presidency    of    Kasyapa — say    about    B.C.  a  son  of   terrestrial  Nirvana,  consistently 

410.      The    second    was    that    spoken    of  culniitmting  in  total  destruction  of  life," 
here — say  about  B.C.  300. 


250  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

body  into  two  parts,  leaving  one  part  on  each  bank ;  so  that 
each  of  the  two  kings  got  one  part  as  a  sacred  rehc,  and  took 
it  back  to  his  own  capital,  and  there  raised  a  tope  over  it. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 
King  Asoka's  Spirit-built  Palace  and  Halls 

Having  crossed  the  river,  and  descended  south  for  a  yojana, 
the  travellers  came  to  the  town  of  Pataliputtra,^  in  the  kingdom 
of  Magadha,  the  city  where  king  Asoka  ruled.  The  royal  pal- 
ace and  halls  in  the  midst  of  the  city,  which  exist  now  as  of  old, 
were  all  made  by  spirits  which  he  employed,  and  which  piled 
up  the  stones,  reared  the  walls  and  gates,  and  executed  the 
elegant  carving  and  inlaid  sculpture-work — in  a  way  which  no 
human  hands  of  this  world  could  accomplish. 

King  Asoka  had  a  younger  brother  who  had  attained  to  be 
an  Arhat,  and  resided  on  Gridhra-kuta  hill,  finding  his  delight 
in  solitude  and  quiet.  The  king,  who  sincerely  reverenced 
him,  wished  and  begged  him  to  come  and  live  in  his  family, 
where  he  could  supply  all  his  wants.  The  other,  however, 
through  his  delight  in  the  stillness  of  the  mountain,  was  un- 
willing to  accept  the  invitation,  on  which  the  king  said  to  him, 
"  Only  accept  my  invitation,  and  I  will  make  a  hill  for  you 
inside  the  city."  Accordingly,  he  provided  the  materials  of  a 
feast,  called  to  him  the  spirits,  and  announced  to  them,  "  To- 
morrow you  will  all  receive  my  invitation  ;  but  as  there  are  no 
mats  for  you  to  sit  on,  let  each  one  bring  his  own  seat."  Next 
day  the  spirits  came,  each  one  bringing  with  him  a  great  rock, 
like  a  wall,  four  or  five  paces  square,  for  a  seat.  When  their 
sitting  was  over,  the  king  made  them  form  a  hill  with  the  large 
stones  piled  on  one  another,  and  also  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  with 
five  large  square  stones,  to  make  an  apartment,  which  might  be 
more  than  thirty  cubits  long,  twenty  cubits  wide,  and  more 
than  ten  cubits  high. 

In  this  city  there  had  resided  a  great  Brahman,  named  Rad- 
ha-sami,  a  professor  of  the  mahayana,  of  clear  discernment  and 

'  The  modern   Patna.    The  Sanscrit  name  means  "  The  city  of  flowers."     It 
is  the  Indian  Florence. 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  251 

much  wisdom,  who  understood  everything,  Hving  by  himself  in 
spotless  purity.  The  king  of  the  country  honored  and  rever- 
enced him,  and  served  him  as  his  teacher,  if  he  went  to  in- 
quire for  and  greet  him,  the  king  did  not  presume  to  sit  down 
alongside  of  him ;  and  if,  in  his  love  and  reverence,  he  took 
hold  of  his  hand,  as  soon  as  he  let  it  go,  the  Brahman  made 
haste  to  pour  water  on  it  and  wash  it.  He  might  be  more 
than  fifty  years  old,  and  all  the  kingdom  looked  up  to  him. 
By  means  of  this  one  man,  the  Law  of  Buddha  was  widely 
made  known,  and  the  followers  of  other  doctrines  did  not  find 
it  in  their  power  to  persecute  the  body  of  monks  in  any  way. 

By  the  side  of  the  tope  of  Asoka,  there  has  been  made  a 
mahayana  monastery,  very  grand  and  beautiful ;  there  is  also 
a  hinayana  one ;  the  two  together  containing  six  hundred  or 
seven  hundred  monks.  The  rules  of  demeanor  and  the  scho- 
lastic arrangements  in  them  are  worthy  of  observation. 

Shamans  of  the  highest  virtue  from  all  quarters,  and  stu- 
dents, inquirers  wishing  to  find  out  truth  and  the  grounds  of 
it,  all  resort  to  these  monasteries.  There  also  resides  in  this 
monastery  a  Brahman  teacher,  whose  name  also  is  Maiijusri, 
whom  the  Shamans  of  greatest  virtue  in  the  kingdom,  and  the 
mahayana  Bhikshus  honor  and  look  up  to. 

The  cities  and  towns  of  this  country  are  the  greatest  of  all  in 
the  Middle  Kingdom.  The  inhabitants  are  rich  and  prosper- 
ous, and  vie  with  one  another  in  the  practice  of  benevolence 
and  righteousness.  Every  year  on  the  eighth  day  of  the 
second  month  they  celebrate  a  procession  of  images.  They 
make  a  four-wheeled  car,  and  on  it  erect  a  structure  of  five 
stories  by  means  of  bamboos  tied  together.  This  is  supported 
by  a  king-post,  with  poles  and  lances  slanting  from  it,  and  is 
rather  more  than  twenty  cubits  high,  having  the  shape  of  a 
tope.  White  and  silk-like  cloth  of  hair  is  wrapped  all  round 
it,  which  is  then  painted  in  various  colors.  They  make  figures 
of  devas,  with  gold,  silver,  and  lapis  lazuli  grandly  blended  and 
having  silken  streamers  and  canopies  hung  out  over  them. 
On  the  four  sides  are  niches,  with  a  Buddha  seated  in  each, 
and  a  Bodhisattva  standing  in  attendance  on  him.  There  may 
be  twenty  cars,  all  grand  and  imposing,  but  each  one  different 
from  the  others.  On  the  day  mentioned,  the  monks  and  laity 
within  the  borders  all  come  together;  they  have  singers  and 
skilful  musicians  ;  they  pay  their  devotions  with  flowers  and  in- 


252  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

cense.  The  Brahmans  come  and  invite  the  Buddhas  to  enter 
the  city.  These  do  so  in  order,  and  remain  two  nights  in  it. 
All  through  the  night  they  keep  lamps  burning,  have  skilful 
music,  and  present  offerings.  This  is  the  practice  in  all  the 
other  kingdoms  as  Yi^ell.  The  Heads  of  the  Vaisya  families  in 
them  establish  in  the  cities  houses  for  dispensing  charity  and 
medicines.  All  the  poor  and  destitute  in  the  country,  orphans, 
widowers,  and  childless  men,  maimed  people  and  cripples,  and 
all  who  are  diseased,  go  to  those  houses,  and  are  provided  with 
every  kind  of  help,  and  doctors  examine  their  diseases.  They 
get  the  food  and  medicines  which  their  cases  require,  and  are 
made  to  feel  at  ease ;  and  when  they  are  better,  they  go  away 
of  themselves. 

When  king  Asoka  destroyed  the  seven  topes,  intending  to 
make  eighty-four  thousand,  the  first  which  he  made  was  the 
great  tope,  more  than  three  li  to  the  south  of  this  city.  In 
front  of  this  there  is  a  footprint  of  Buddha,  where  a  vihara  has 
been  built.  The  door  of  it  faces  the  north,  and  on  the  south 
of  it  there  is  a  stone  pillar,  fourteen  or  fifteen  cubits  in  circum- 
ference, and  more  than  thirty  cubits  high,  on  which  there  is 
an  inscription,  saying,  "  Asoka  gave  the  Jambudvipa  to  the 
general  body  of  all  the  monks,  and  then  redeemed  it  from  them 
with  money.  This  he  did  three  times."  North  from  the  tope 
three  hundred  or  four  hundred  paces,  king  Asoka  built  the  city 
of  Ne-le.  In  it  there  is  a  stone  pillar,  which  also  is  more  than 
thirty  feet  high,  with  a  lion  on  the  top  of  it.  On  the  pillar  there 
is  an  inscription  recording  the  things  which  led  to  the  building 
of  Ne-le,  with  the  number  of  the  year,  the  day,  and  the  month. 


CHAPTER  XXVHI 

Rajagriha,  New  and  Old — Legends  Connected  with  It 

The  travellers  went  on  from  this  to  the  southeast  for  nine 
yojanas,  and  came  to  a  small  solitary  rocky  hill,  at  the  head  or 
end  of  which  was  an  apartment  of  stone,  facing  the  south — the 
place  where  Buddha  sat,  when  Sakra,  Ruler  of  Devas,  brought 
the  deva-musician,  Panchasikha,  to  give  pleasure  to  him  by 
playing  on  his  lute.  Sakra  then  asked  Buddha  about  forty- 
two  subjects,  tracing  the  questions  out  with  his  finger  one  by 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 


253 


one  on  the  rock.  The  prints  of  his  tracing  are  still  there ;  and 
here  also  there  is  a  monastery. 

A  yojana  southwest  from  this  place  brought  them  to  the  vil- 
lage of  Nala,  where  Sariputtra  was  born,  and  to  which  also  he 
returned,  and  attained  here  his  pari-nirvana.  Over  the  spot 
where  his  body  was  burned  there  was  built  a  tope,  which  is  still 
in  existence. 

Another  yojana  to  the  west  brought  them  to  New  Rajag- 
riha — the  new  city  which  was  built  by  king  Ajatasatru.  There 
were  two  monasteries  in  it.  Three  hundred  paces  outside  the 
west  gate,  king  Ajatasatru,  having  obtained  one  portion  of  the 
relics  of  Buddha,  built  over  them  a  tope,  high,  large,  grand, 
and  beautiful.  Leaving  the  city  by  the  south  gate,  and  pro- 
ceeding south  four  li,  one  enters  a  valley,  and  comes  to  a  cir- 
cular space  formed  by  five  hills,  which  stand  all  round  it,  and 
have  the  appearance  of  the  suburban  wall  of  a  city.  Here  was 
the  old  city  of  king  Bimbisara ;  from  east  to  west  about  five  or 
six  li,  and  from  north  to  south  seven  or  eight.  It  was  here 
that  Sariputtra  and  Maudgalyayana  first  saw  Upasena ;  *  that 
the  Nirgrantha  made  a  pit  of  fire  and  poisoned  the  rice,  and 
then  invited  Buddha  to  eat  with  him ;  that  king  Ajatasatru 
made  a  black  elephant  intoxicated  with  liquor,  wishing  him  to 
injure  Buddha ;  and  that  at  the  northeast  corner  of  the  city  in 
a  large  curving  space  Jivaka  built  a  vihara  in  the  garden  of 
Ambapali,  and  invited  Buddha  with  his  one  thousand  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  disciples  to  it,  that  he  might  there  make  his 
offerings  to  support  them.  These  places  are  still  there  as  of 
old,  but  inside  the  city  all  is  emptiness  and  desolation;  no 
man  dwells  in  it. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

Fa-Hien  Passes  a  Night  on  Gridhra-kuta  Hill 

Entering  the  valley,  and  keeping  along  the  mountains  on 
the  southeast,  after  ascending  fifteen  li,  the  travellers  came  to 
mount  Gridhra-kuta.  Three  li  before  you  reach  the  top,  there 
is  a  cavern  in  the  rocks,  facing  the  south,  in  which  Buddha  sat 
in  meditation.  Thirty  paces  to  the  northwest  there  is  another, 
where  Ananda  was  sitting  in  meditation,  when  the  deva  Mara 

•One   of   the   five   first   followers    of    Sakyamuni. 


254  'THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

Pisuna,  having  assumed  the  form  of  a  large  vulture,  took  his 
place  in  front  of  the  cavern,  and  frightened  the  disciple.  Then 
Buddha,  by  his  mysterious,  supernatural  power,  made  a  cleft 
in  the  rock,  introduced  his  hand,  and  stroked  Ananda's  shoul- 
der, so  that  his  fear  immediately  passed  away.  The  footprints 
of  the  bird  and  the  cleft  for  Buddha's  hand  are  still  there,  and 
hence  comes  the  name  of "  The  Hill  of  the  Vulture  Cavern." 

In  front  of  the  cavern  there  are  the  places  where  the  four 
Buddhas  sat.  There  are  caverns  also  of  the  Arhats,  one  where 
each  sat  and  meditated,  amounting  to  several  hundred  in  all. 
At  the  place  where  in  front  of  his  rocky  apartment  Buddha 
was  walking  from  east  to  west  in  meditation,  and  Devadatta, 
from  among  the  beetling  clififs  on  the  north  of  the  mountain, 
threw  a  rock  across,  and  hurt  Buddha's  toes,  the  rock  is  still 
there. 

The  hall  where  Buddha  preached  his  Law  has  been  de- 
stroyed, and  only  the  foundations  of  the  brick  walls  remain. 
On  this  hill  the  peak  is  beautifully  green,  and  rises  grandly  up ; 
it  is  the  highest  of  all  the  five  hills.  In  the  New  City  Fa-hien 
bought  incense-sticks,  flowers,  oil  and  lamps,  and  hired  two 
bhikshus,  long  resident  at  the  place,  to  carry  them  to  the  peak. 
When  he  himself  got  to  it,  he  made  his  offerings  with  the 
flowers  and  incense,  and  lighted  the  lamps  when  the  darkness 
began  to  come  on.  He  felt  melancholy,  but  restrained  his 
tears  and  said,  "  Here  Buddha  delivered  the  Surangama  Siitra. 
I,  Fa-hien,  was  born  when  I  could  not  meet  with  Buddha ;  and 
now  I  only  see  the  footprints  which  he  has  left,  and  the  place 
where  he  Hved,  and  nothing  more."  With  this,  in  front  of  the 
rock  cavern,  he  chanted  the  Siirangama  Sutra,  remained  there 
over  the  night,  and  then  returned  towards  the  New  City. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

Srataparna  Cave,  or  Cave  of  the  First  Council 

Out  from  the  old  city,  after  walking  over  three  hundred 
paces,  on  the  west  of  the  road,  the  travellers  found  the  Karanda 
Bamboo  garden,  where  the  old  vihara  is  still  in  existence,  with 
a  company  of  monks,  who  keep  the  ground  about  it  swept  and 
watered. 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  255 

North  of  the  vihara  two  or  three  H  there  was  the  Smasanam, 
which  name  means  in  Chinese  "  the  field  of  graves  into  which 
the  dead  are  thrown." 

As  they  tcept  along  the  mountain  on  the  south,  and  went 
west  for  three  hundred  paces,  they  found  a  dwelling  among 
the  rocks,  named  the  Pippala  cave,  in  which  Buddha  regularly 
sat  in  meditation  after  taking  his  mid-day  meal. 

Going  on  still  to  the  west  for  five  or  six  li,  on  the  north  of 
the  hill,  in  the  shade,  they  found  the  cavern  called  Srataparna,^ 
the  place  where,  after  the  nirvana  of  Buddha,  five  hundred 
Arhats  collected  the  Stitras.  When  they  brought  the  Siitras 
forth,  three  lofty  seats  had  been  prepared  and  grandly  orna- 
mented. Sariputtra  occupied  the  one  on  the  left,  and  Maud- 
galyayana  that  on  the  right.  Of  the  number  of  five  hundred 
one  was  wanting.  Mahakasyapa  was  president  on  the  middle 
seat.  Ananda  was  then  outside  the  door,  and  could  not  get  in. 
At  the  place  there  was  subsequently  raised  a  tope,  which  is 
still  existing. 

Along  the  sides  of  the  hill,  there  are  also  a  very  great  many 
cells  among  the  rocks,  where  the  various  Arhans  sat  and  medi- 
tated. As  you  leave  the  old  city  on  the  north,  and  go  down 
east  for  three  li,  there  is  the  rock  dwelling  of  Devadatta,  and  at 
a  distance  of  fifty  paces  from  it  there  is  a  large,  square,  black 
rock.  Formerly  there  was  a  bhikshu,  who,  as  he  walked  back- 
wards and  forwards  upon  it,  thought  with  himself: — "This 
body  is  impermanent,  a  thing  of  bitterness  and  vanity,  and 
which  cannot  be  looked  on  as  pure.  I  am  weary  of  this  body, 
and  troubled  by  it  as  an  evil."  With  this  he  grasped  a  knife, 
and  was  about  to  kill  himself.  But  he  thought  again : — "  The 
World-honored  one  laid  down  a  prohibition  against  one's  kill- 
ing himself."-  Further  it  occurred  to  him: — "Yes,  he  did; 
but  I  now  only  wish  to  kill  three  poisonous  thieves."  Imme- 
diately with  the  knife  he  cut  his  throat.  With  the  first  gash 
into  the  flesh  he  attained  the  state  of  a  Srotapanna ;  when  he 
had  gone  half  through,  he  attained  to  be  an  Anagamin ;  and 
when  he  had  cut  right  through,  he  was  an  Arhat,  and  attained 
to  pari-nirvana,  and  died. 

*  A  very  great  place  in  the  annals  of  The  cave  was  prepared  for  the  occasion 

Buddhism.     The    Council    in    the    Srata-  by  king  Ajatasatru. 

parna  cave  did  not  come  together  fortui-  -  Puddha  made  a  law  forbidding  the 
tously,  but  appears  to  have  been  con-  monks  to  commit  suicide.  He  pro- 
voked by  the  older  members  to  settle  hibited  any  one  from  discoursing  on  the 
the   rules    and    doctrines    of    the    order.  miseries  of  life  in  such  a  manner  as  to 

cause   desperation. 


256  THE  TRAVELS  OE  FA-HIENi 

CHAPTER    XXXI 
Sakyamuni's  Attaining  to  the  Buddhaship 

From  this  place,  after  travelling  to  the  west  for  four  yojanas, 
the  pilgrims  came  to  the  city  of  Gaya ;  but  inside  the  city  all 
was  emptiness  and  desolation.  Going  on  again  to  the  south 
for  twenty  li,  they  arrived  at  the  place  where  the  Bodhisattva 
for  six  years  practised  with  himself  painful  austerities.  All 
around  was  forest. 

Three  li  west  from  here  they  came  to  the  place  where,  when 
Buddha  had  gone  into  the  water  to  bathe,  a  deva  bent  down 
the  branch  of  a  tree,  by  means  of  which  he  succeeded  in  getting 
out  of  the  pool. 

Two  li  north  from  this  was  the  place  where  the  Gramika 
girls  presented  to  Buddha  the  rice-gruel  made  with  milk ;  and 
two  li  north  from  this  was  the  place  where,  seated  on  a  rock 
under  a  great  tree,  and  facing  the  east,  he  ate  the  gruel.  The 
tree  and  the  rock  are  there  at  the  present  day.  The  rock  may 
be  six  cubits  in  breadth  and  length,  and  rather  more  than  two 
cubits  in  height.  In  Central  India  the  cold  and  heat  are  so 
equally  tempered  that  trees  live  for  several  thousand  and  even 
for  ten  thousand  years. 

Half  a  yojana  from  this  place  to  the  northeast  there  was  a 
cavern  in  the  rocks,  into  which  the  Bodhisattva  entered,  and 
sat  cross-legged  with  his  face  to  the  west.  As  he  did  so,  he 
said  to  himself,  "  If  I  am  to  attain  to  perfect  wisdom  and  be- 
come Buddha,  let  there  be  a  supernatural  attestation  of  it." 
On  the  wall  of  the  rock  there  appeared  immediately  the  shadow 
of  a  Buddha,  rather  more  than  three  feet  in  length,  which  is 
still  bright  at  the  present  day.  At  this  moment  heaven  and 
earth  were  greatly  moved,  and  devas  in  the  air  spoke  plainly, 
"  This  is  not  the  place  where  any  Buddha  of  the  past,  or  he  that 
is  to  come,  has  attained,  or  will  attain,  to  perfect  Wisdom. 
Less  than  half  a  yojana  from  this  to  the  southwest  will  bring 
you  to  the  patra  tree,  where  all  past  Buddhas  have  attained,  and 
all  to  come  must  attain,  to  perfect  Wisdom."  When  they  had 
spoken  these  words,  they  immediately  led  the  way  forward 
to  the  place,  singing  as  they  did  so.    As  they  thus  went  away, 


THE  TRAVELS  OF   FA-HIEN  257 

the  Bodhisattva  arose  and  walked  after  them.  At  a  distance 
of  thirty  paces  from  the  tree,  a  deva  gave  him  the  grass  of 
lucky  omen,  which  he  received  and  went  on.  After  he  had 
proceeded  fifteen  paces,  live  hundred  green  birds  came  flying 
towards  him,  went  round  him  thrice,  and  disappeared.  The 
Bodhisattva  went  forward  to  the  patra  tree,  placed  the  kusa 
grass  at  the  foot  of  it,  and  sat  down  with  his  face  to  the  east. 
Then  king  Mara  sent  three  beautiful  young  ladies,  who  came 
from  the  north,  to  tempt  him,  while  he  himself  came  from  the 
south  to  do  the  same.  The  Bodhisattva  put  his  toes  down  on 
the  ground,  and  the  demon  soldiers  retired  and  dispersed,  and 
the  three  young  ladies  were  changed  into  old  grandmothers. 

At  the  place  mentioned  above  of  the  six  years'  painful  aus- 
terities, and  at  all  these  other  places,  men  subsequently  reared 
topes  and  set  up  images,  which  all  exist  at  the  present  day. 

Where  Buddha,  after  attaining  to  perfect  Wisdom,  for 
seven  days  contemplated  the  tree,  and  experienced  the  joy 
of  vimukti ;  where,  under  the  patra  tree,  he  walked  to  and 
fro  from  west  to  east  for  seven  days ;  where  the  devas  made 
a  hall  appear,  composed  of  the  seven  precious  substances, 
and  presented  offerings  to  him  for  seven  days ;  where  the 
blind  dragon  Muchilinda^  encircled  him  for  seven  days;  where 
he  sat  under  the  nyagrodha  tree,  on  a  square  rock,  with  his 
face  to  the  east,  and  Brahma-deva  came  and  made  his  request 
to  him;  w^here  the  four  deva  kings  brought  to  him  their 
alms-bowls ;  where  the  five  hundred  merchants  presented  to 
him  the  roasted  flour  and  honey ;  and  where  he  converted  the 
brothers  Kasyapa  and  their  thousand  disciples ; — at  all  these 
places  topes  were  reared. 

At  the  place  where  Buddha  attained  to  perfect  Wisdom, 
there  are  three  monasteries,  in  all  of  which  there  are  monks 
residing.  The  families  of  their  people  around  supply  the  soci- 
eties of  these  monks  with  an  abundant  sufficiency  of  what  they 
require,  so  that  there  is  no  lack  or  stint.  The  disciplinary  rules 
are  strictly  observed  by  them.  The  laws  regulating  their  de- 
meanor in  sitting,  rising,  and  entering  when  the  others  are 
assembled,  are  those  which  have  been  practised  by  all  the  saints 
since  Buddha  was  in  the  world  down  to  the  present  day.  The 
places  of  the  four  great  topes  have  been  fixed,  and  handed 

1  Called     also     Maha,     or     the     Great  Sakvamuni  once  sat  for  seven  days  ab- 

Muchilinda.     Eitel  says:  "  A  naga  kin2;,  sorted    in    meditation,    whilst   the    king 

the  tutelary  deity  of  a  lake  near  which  guarded  him." 
Vol.  IV.— 17  _ 


2S8  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

down  without  break,  since  Buddha  attained  to  nirvana. 
Those  four  great  topes  are  those  at  the  places  where  Buddha 
was  born ;  where  he  attained  to  Wisdom ;  where  he  began  to 
move  the  wheel  of  his  Law;  and  where  he  attained  to  pari- 
nirvana. 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

Legend  of  King  Asoka  in  a  Former  Birth 

When  king  Asoka,  in  a  former  birth,  was  a  little  boy  and 
playing  on  the  road,  he  met  Kasyapa  Buddha  walking.  The 
stranger  begged  food,  and  the  boy  pleasantly  took  a  handful 
of  earth  and  gave  it  to  him.  The  Buddha  took  the  earth,  and 
returned  it  to  the  ground  on  which  he  was  walking;  but  be- 
cause of  this  the  boy  received  the  recompense  of  becoming  a 
king  of  the  iron  wheel,  to  rule  over  Jambudvipa.  Once  when 
he  was  making  a  judicial  tour  of  inspection  through  Jambud- 
vipa, he  saw,  between  the  iron  circuit  of  the  two  hills,  a  naraka 
for  the  punishment  of  wicked  men.  Having  thereupon  asked 
his  ministers  what  sort  of  a  thing  it  was,  they  replied,  "  It  be- 
longs to  Yama,^  king  of  demons,  for  punishing  wicked  peo- 
ple." The  king  thought  within  himself: — "  Even  the  king  of 
demons  is  able  to  make  a  naraka  in  which  to  deal  with  wicked 
men ;  why  should  not  I,  who  am  the  lord  of  men,  make  a  nara- 
ka in  which  to  deal  with  wicked  men  ?  "  He  forthwith  asked 
his  ministers  who  could  make  for  him  a  naraka  and  preside 
over  the  punishment  of  wicked  people  in  it.  They  replied  that 
it  was  only  a  man  of  extreme  wickedness  who  could  make  it ; 
and  the  king  thereupon  sent  officers  to  seek  everywhere  for 
such  a  bad  man ;  and  they  saw  by  the  side  of  a  pond  a  man 
tall  and  strong,  with  a  black  countenance,  yellow  hair,  and 
green  eyes,  hooking  up  the  fish  with  his  feet,  while  he  called  to 
him  birds  and  beasts,  and,  when  they  came,  then  shot  and 

»  Yama  was  originally  the  Arvan  god  controls   all   the  female   culprits,   as  he 

of  the  dead,  living  in  a  heaven  above  the  exclusively    deals     with    the    male    sex. 

word,    the    regent    of    the    south;    but  Three  times,  however,  in  every  twenty- 

Kralimanism    transferred    his    abode    to  four  hours,  a  demon  pours  boiling  cop- 

i!.      r,    J?,  •     ^'^^,   ^^y    ^^^^    retained  per  into  Yama's  mouth,  and  squeezes  it 

hy    Hticlflhism.      The   Yama    of   the   text  down  his   throat,   causing  him   unspeak- 


the       regent    of    the_  narakas,    resid-  able  pain."     Such,  however,  is  the  won- 

i^.g    south    of    Tambudvipa,    outside    the  derful     "  transrotataon    of   births."     thmt 

thakravalas      (the      double     circuit      of  when   Yama's   sins   have   been   expiated, 

mountams  above),   in  a  palace  built   of  he   is   to   be   reborn    as    Buddha,    under 

brass  and  iron.     He   has   a   sister  who  the  name  of  "  The  Universal  King." 


THE  TRAVELS  OF   FA-HIEN 


259 


killed  them,  so  that  not  one  escaped.  Having  got  this  man, 
they  took  him  to  the  king,  who  secretly  charged  him,  "  You 
must  make  a  square  enclosure  with  high  walls.  Plant  in  it 
all  kinds  of  flowers  and  fruits ;  make  good  ponds  in  it  for  bath- 
ing ;  make  it  grand  and  imposing  in  every  way,  so  that  men 
shall  look  to  it  with  thirsting  desire  ;  make  its  gates  strong  and 
sure  ;  and  when  any  one  enters,  instantly  seize  him  and  punish 
him  as  a  sinner,  not  allowing  him  to  get  out.  Even  if  1  should 
enter,  punish  me  as  a  sinner  in  the  same  way,  and  do  not  let 
me  go.     I  now  appoint  you  master  of  that  naraka." 

Soon  after  this  a  bhikshu,  pursuing  his  regular  course  of 
begging  his  food,  entered  the  gate  of  the  place.  When  the 
lictors  of  the  naraka  saw  him,  they  were  about  to  subject  him 
to  their  tortures  ;  but  he,  frightened,  begged  them  to  allow  him 
a  moment  in  which  to  eat  his  mid-day  meal.  Immediately 
after,  there  came  in  another  man,  whom  they  thrust  into  a 
mortar  and  pounded  till  a  red  froth  overflowed.  As  the  bhik- 
shu looked  on,  there  came  to  him  the  thought  of  the  impcrma- 
nence,  the  painful  suffering  and  inanity  of  this  body,  and  how 
it  is  but  as  a  bubble  and  as  foam ;  and  instantly  he  attained  to 
Arhatship.  Immediately  after,  the  lictors  seized  him,  and 
threw  him  into  a  caldron  of  boiling  water.  There  was  a  look 
of  joyful  satisfaction,  however,  in  the  bhikshu's  countenance. 
The  fire  w^as  extinguished,  and  the  water  became  cold.  In  the 
middle  of  the  caldron  there  rose  up  a  lotus  flower,  with  the 
bhikshu  seated  on  it.  The  lictors  at  once  went  and  reported  to 
the  king  that  there  was  a  marvellous  occurrence  in  the  naraka, 
and  wished  him  to  go  and  see  it ;  but  the  king  said,  "  I  formerly 
made  such  an  agreement  that  now  I  dare  not  go  to  the  place." 
The  lictors  said,  "  This  is  not  a  small  matter.  Your  Majesty 
ought  to  go  quickly.  Let  your  former  agreement  be  altered." 
The  king  thereupon  followed  them,  and  entered  the  naraka,, 
when  the  bhikshu  preached  the  Law  to  him,  and  he  believed, 
and  was  made  free.  Forthwith  he  demolished  the  naraka,  and 
repented  of  all  the  evil  which  he  had  formerly  done.  From 
this  time  he  believed  in  and  honored  the  Three  Precious  Ones, 
and  constantly  went  to  a  patra  tree,  repenting  under  it,  with 
self-reproach,  of  his  errors,  and  accepting  the  eight  rules  of 
abstinence. 

The  queen  asked  where  the  king  was  constantly  going  to, 
and  the  ministers  replied  that  he  was  constantly  to  be  seen 


26o  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

under  such  and  such  a  patra  tree.  She  watched  for  a  time 
when  the  king  was  not  there,  and  then  sent  men  to  cut  the  tree 
down.  When  the  king  came,  and  saw  what  had  been  done, 
he  swooned  away  with  sorrow,  and  fell  to  the  ground.  His 
ministers  sprinkled  water  on  his  face,  and  after  a  considerable 
time  he  revived.  He  then  built  all  round  the  stump  with 
bricks,  and  poured  a  hundred  pitchers  of  cows'  milk  on  the 
roots;  and  as  he  lay  with  his  four  limbs  spread  out  on  the 
ground,  he  took  this  oath,  "  If  the  tree  do  not  live,  I  will  never 
rise  from  this."  When  he  had  uttered  this  oath,  the  tree  im- 
mediately began  to  grow  from  the  roots,  and  it  has  continued 
to  grow  till  now,  when  it  is  nearly  one  hundred  cubits  in 
height. 


CHAPTER  XXXHI 
Kasyapa  Buddha's  Skeleton  on  Mount  Gurupada 

The  travellers,  going  on  from  this  three  li  to  the  south, 
came  to  a  mountain  named  Gurupada,  inside  which  Mahakas- 
yapa  even  now  is.  He  made  a  cleft,  and  went  down  into  it, 
though  the  place  where  he  entered  would  not  now  admit  a 
man.  Having  gone  down  very  far,  there  was  a  hole  on  one 
side,  and  there  the  complete  body  of  Kasyapa  still  abides. 
Outside  the  hole  at  which  he  entered  is  the  earth  with  which 
he  had  washed  his  hands.  If  the  people  living  thereabouts 
have  a  sore  on  their  heads,  they  plaster  on  it  some  of  the  earth 
from  this,  and  feel  immediately  easier.  On  this  mountain, 
now  as  of  old,  there  are  Arhats  abiding.  Devotees  of  our 
Law  from  the  various  countries  in  that  quarter  go  year  by  year 
to  the  mountain,  and  present  offerings  to  Kasyapa ;  and  to 
those  whose  hearts  are  strong  in  faith  there  come  Arhats  at 
night,  and  talk  with  them,  discussing  and  explaining  their 
doubts,  and  disappearing  suddenly  afterwards. 

On  this  hill  hazels  grow  luxuriantly;  and  there  are  many 
lions,  tigers,  and  wolves,  so  that  people  should  not  travel  in- 
cautiously. 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  261 

CHAPTER  XXXIV 
On  the  Way  Returning  to  Patna 

FA-HIEN  returned  from  here  towards  Pataliputtra,  keeping 
along  the  course  of  the  Ganges  and  descending  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  west.  After  going  ten  yojanas  he  found  a  vihara, 
named  "  The  Wilderness  " — a  place  where  Buddha  had  dwelt, 
and  where  there  are  monks  now. 

Pursuing  the  same  course,  and  going  still  to  the  west,  he 
arrived,  after  twelve  yojanas,  at  the  city  of  Varanasi  in  the 
kingdom  of  Kasi.  Rather  more  than  ten  li  to  the  northeast 
of  the  city,  he  found  the  vihara  in  the  park  of  "  The  rishi's 
Deer-wild."^  In  this  park  there  formerly  resided  a  Pratyeka 
Buddha,  with  whom  the  deer  were  regularly  in  the  habit  of 
stopping  for  the  night.  When  the  World-honored  one  was 
about  to  attain  to  perfect  Wisdom,  the  devas  sang  in  the  sky, 
"  The  son  of  king  Suddhodana,  having  quitted  his  family  and 
studied  the  Path  of  Wisdom,  will  now  in  seven  days  become 
Buddha."  The  Pratyeka  Buddha  heard  their  words,  and  im- 
mediately attained  to  nirvana ;  and  hence  this  place  was  named 
"  The  Park  of  the  rishi's  Deer-wild."  After  the  World- 
honored  one  had  attained  to  perfect  Wisdom,  men  built  the 
vihara  in  it. 

Buddha  wished  to  convert  Kaundinya  and  his  four  compan- 
ions;  but  they,  being  aware  of  his  intention,  said  to  one  an- 
other, "  This  Sramana  Gotama^  for  six  years  continued  in  the 
practice  of  painful  austerities,  eating  daily  only  a  single  hemp- 
seed,  and  one  grain  of  rice,  without  attaining  to  the  Path  of 
Wisdom  ;  how  much  less  will  he  do  so  now  that  he  has  entered 
again  among  men,  and  is  giving  the  reins  to  the  indulgence  of 

'  "  The  rishi."  says  Eitel,   "  fs  a  man  text  where  the   Bodhisattva  or   Buddha 

whose    bodily    frame    has    undergone    a  is    called    by    the    surname    "  Gotama." 

certain  transformation  by  dint   of  medi-  For    the    most    [lart    our    traveller    uses 

tation  and  asceticism,  so  that  he  is,  for  Buddha    as   a    proper    name,    though    it 

an    indefinite    period,    exempt    from    de-  properly     means     "  The     Enlightened." 

crepitude.  age,  and  death.  As  this  period  He  uses  also  the  combinations  "  Sakya 

is    believed    to    extend    far    beyond    the  Buddha."    which    means    "  The    Buddha 

usual  duration  of  human  life,   such  per-  of  the  Sakya  tribe,"  and  "  Sakyamuni," 

sons  are  called,   and  popularly  believed  which  means  "  The  Sakya  sage."     This 

to    be,    immortals."     Rishis   are   divided  last  is  the  most  common  designation  of 

into    various    classes;    and    rishi-ism    is  the    Buddha    in    China.      Among    other 

spoken  of  as  a  seventh   path  of  transro-  Buddhistic      peoples      "  Gotama  "      and 

tation,  and  rishis  are  referred  to  as  the  "  Gotama    Buddha  "    are    the    more   fre- 

seventh  class  of  sentient  beings.  quent   designations. 

*  This  IS  the  only  instance  in  Fa-hien's 


462  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

his  body,  his  speech,  and  his  thoughts !  What  has  he  to  do 
with  the  Path  of  Wisdom  ?  To-day,  when  he  comes  to  us,  let 
us  be  on  our  guard  not  to  speak  with  him."  At  the  places 
where  the  five  men  all  rose  up,  and  respectfully  saluted  Bud- 
dha, when  he  came  to  them  ;  where,  sixty  paces  north  from  this, 
he  sat  with  his  face  to  the  east,  and  first  turned  the  wheel  of 
the  Law,  converting  Kaundinya  and  the  four  others;  where, 
twenty  paces  further  to  the  north,  he  delivered  his  prophecy 
concerning  Maitreya;  and  where,  at  a  distance  of  fifty  paces 
to  the  south,  the  dragon  Elapattra  asked  him,  "  When  shall  I 
get  free  from  this  naga  body  ?  " — at  all  these  places  topes  were 
reared,  and  are  still  existing.  In  the  park  there  are  two  mon- 
asteries, in  both  of  which  there  are  monks  residing. 

When  you  go  northwest  from  the  vihara  of  the  Deer-wild 
park  for  thirteen  yojanas,  there  is  a  kingdom  named  Kau- 
sambi.  Its  vihara  is  named  Ghochiravana — a  place  where 
Buddha  formerly  resided.  Now,  as  of  old,  there  is  a  company 
of  monks  there,  most  of  whom  are  students  of  the  hinayana. 

East  from  this,  when  you  have  travelled  eight  yojanas,  is  the 
place  where  Buddha  converted  the  evil  demon.  There,  and 
where  he  walked  in  meditation  and  sat  at  the  place  which  was 
his  regular  abode,  there  have  been  topes  erected.  There  is 
also  a  monastery,  which  may  contain  more  than  a  hundred 
monks. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

Dakshina,  and  the  Pigeon  Monastery 

South  from  this  two  hundred  yojanas,  there  is  a  country 
named  Dakshina,  where  there  is  a  monastery  dedicated  to  the 
by-gone  Kasyapa  Buddha,  and  which  has  been  hewn  out  from 
a  large  hill  of  rock.  It  consists  in  all  of  five  stories ; — the  low- 
est, having  the  form  of  an  elephant,  with  five  hundred  apart- 
ments in  the  rock  ;  the  second,  having  the  form  of  a  lion,  with 
four  hundred  apartments  ;  the  third,  having  the  form  of  a  horse, 
with  three  hundred  apartments ;  the  fourth,  having  the  form  of 
an  ox,  with  two  hundred  apartments ;  and  the  fifth,  having  the 
form  of  a  pigeon,  with  one  hundred  apartments.  At  the  very 
top  there  is  a  spring,  the  water  of  which,  always  in  front  of  the 
apartments  in  the  rock,  goes  round  among  the  rooms,  now 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  263 

circling,  now  curving,  till  in  this  way  it  arrives  at  the  lowest 
story,  having  followed  the  shape  of  the  structure,  and  flows  out 
there  at  the  door.  Everywhere  in  the  apartments  of  the 
monks,  the  rock  has  been  pierced  so  as  to  form  windows  for 
the  admission  of  light,  so  that  they  are  all  bright,  without  any 
being  left  in  darkness.  At  the  four  corners  of  the  tiers  of 
apartments,  the  rock  has  been  hewn  so  as  to  form  steps  for 
ascending  to  the  top  of  each.  The  men  of  the  present  day,  be- 
ing of  small  size,  and  going  up  step  by  step,  manage  to  get  to 
the  top ;  but  in  a  former  age  they  did  so  at  one  step.  Because 
of  this,  the  monastery  is  called  Paravata,  that  being  the  Indian 
name  for  a  pigeon.     There  are  always  Arhats  residing  in  it. 

The  country  about  is  a  tract  of  uncultivated  hillocks,  without 
inhabitants.  At  a  very  long  distance  from  the  hill  there  are 
villages,  where  the  people  all  have  bad  and  erroneous  views, 
and  do  not  know  the  Sramanas  of  the  Law  of  Buddha,  Brah- 
manas,  or  devotees  of  any  of  the  other  and  diflferent  schools. 
The  people  of  that  country  are  constantly  seeing  men  on  the 
wing,  who  come  and  enter  this  monastery.  On  one  occasion, 
when  devotees  of  various  countries  came  to  perform  their  wor- 
ship at  it,  the  people  of  those  villages  said  to  them,  "  Why  do 
you  not  fly  ?  The  devotees  whom  we  have  seen  hereabouts  all 
fly  " ;  and  the  strangers  answered,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment, 
"  Our  wings  are  not  yet  fully  formed." 

The  kingdom  of  Dakshina  is  out  of  the  way,  and  perilous 
to  traverse.  There  are  difficulties  in  connection  with  the 
roads ;  but  those  who  know  how  to  manage  such  difficulties 
and  wish  to  proceed  should  bring  with  them  money  and  vari- 
ous articles,  and  give  them  to  the  king.  He  will  then  send 
men  to  escort  them.  These  will,  at  different  stages,  pass  them 
over  to  others,  who  will  show  them  the  shortest  routes.  Fa- 
hien,  however,  was  after  all  unable  to  go  there ;  but  having  re- 
ceived the  above  accounts  from  men  of  the  country,  he  has 
narrated  them. 


264  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

CHAPTER  XXXVI 
Fa-Hien's  Indian  Studies 

From  Varanasi  the  travellers  went  back  east  to  Pataliputtra. 
Fa-hien's  original  object  had  been  to  search  for  copies  of  the 
Vinaya.  In  the  various  kingdoms  of  North  India,  however, 
he  had  found  one  master  transmitting  orally  the  rules  to  an- 
other, but  no  written  copies  which  he  could  transcribe.  He 
had  therefore  travelled  far  and  come  on  to  Central  India. 
Here,  in  the  mahayana  monastery,  he  found  a  copy  of  the  Vin- 
aya, containing  the  Mahasanghika^  rules — those  which  were 
observed  in  the  first  Great  Council,  while  Buddha  was  still  in 
the  world.  The  original  copy  was  handed  down  in  the  Jeta- 
vana  vihara.  As  to  the  other  eighteen  schools,  each  one  has 
the  views  and  decisions  of  its  own  masters.  Those  agree  with 
this  in  the  general  m.caning,  but  they  have  small  and  trivial 
differences,  as  when  one  opens  and  another  shuts.  This  copy 
of  the  rules,  however,  is  the  most  complete,  with  the  fullest  ex- 
planations.- 

He  further  got  a  transcript  of  the  rules  in  six  or  seven  thou- 
sand gathas,'^  being  the  sarvastivadah^  rules — those  which  are 
observed  by  the  communities  of  monks  in  the  land  of  Ts'in ; 
which  also  have  all  been  handed  down  orally  from  master  to 
master  without  being  com.mitted  to  writing.  In  the  commun- 
ity here,  moreover,  he  got  the  Samyuktabhi-dharma-hridaya- 
sastra,  containing  about  six  or  seven  thousand  gathas ;  he  also 
got  a  Siitra  of  two  thousand  five  hundred  gathas ;  one  chap- 
ter of  the  Pari-nirvana-vaipulya  Siitra,  of  about  five  thousand 
gathas ;   and  the  Mahasanghika  Abhidharma. 

In  consequence  of  this  success  in  his  quest  Fa-hien  stayed 
here  for  three  years,  learning  Sanscrit  books  and  the  Sanscrit 
speech,  and  writing  out  the  Vinaya  rules.  When  Tao-ching 
arrived  in  the  Central  Kingdom,  and  saw  the  rules  observed 
by  the  Sramanas,  and  the  dignified  demeanor  in  their  societies 

1  Mahasanghika  simply  means  "  the  sisting  of  a  few,  commonly  of  two,  lines 
Great  Assembly,"   that   is,   of  monks.  somewhat   metrically  arranged. 

2  It  was  afterwards  translated  by  *"A  branch."  says  Eitel,  "of  the 
Fa-hien  into  Chinese.  great   vaibhashika   school,   asserting   the 

"  A  gatha  is  a  stanza,   generally  con-       reality   of  all     visible    phenomena,    and 
claiming  the  authority  of  Rahula." 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  265 

which  he  remarked  under  all  occurring  circumstances,  he  sadly 
called  to  mind  in  what  a  mutilated  and  imperfect  condition  the 
rules  were  among  the  monkish  communities  in  the  land  of 
Ts'in,  and  made  the  following  aspiration:  "From  this  time 
forth  till  I  come  to  the  state  of  Buddha,  let  me  not  be  born  in  a 
frontier-land."  He  remained  accordingly  in  India,  and  did 
not  return  to  the  land  of  Han.  Fa-hien,  however,  whose  origi- 
nal purpose  had  been  to  secure  the  introduction  of  the  com- 
plete Vinaya  rules  into  the  land  of  Han,  returned  there  alone. 


CHAPTER   XXXVn 
Fa-hien's  Stay  in  Champa  and  Tamalipti 

Following  the  course  of  the  Ganges,  and  descending  east- 
ward for  eighteen  yojanas,  he  found  on  the  southern  bank  the 
great  kingdom  of  Champa,  with  topes  reared  at  the  places 
where  Buddha  walked  in  meditation  by  his  vihara,  and  where 
he  and  the  three  Buddhas,  his  predecessors,  sat.  There  were 
monks  residing  at  them  all.  Continuing  his  journey  east  for 
nearly  fifty  yojanas,  he  came  to  the  country  of  Tamalipti,  the 
capital  of  which  is  a  seaport.  In  the  country  there  are  twenty- 
two  monasteries,  at  all  of  which  there  are  monks  residing. 
The  Law  of  Buddha  is  also  flourishing  in  it.  Here  Fa-hien 
stayed  two  years,  writing  out  his  Siitras,  and  drawing  pictures 
of  images. 

After  this  he  embarked  in  a  large  merchant-vessel,  and  went 
floating  over  the  sea  to  the  southwest.  It  was  the  beginning 
of  winter,  and  the  wind  was  favorable ;  and,  after  fourteen 
days,  sailing  day  and  night,  they  came  to  the  country  of  Sing- 
hala.  The  people  said  that  it  was  distant  from  Tamalipti  about 
seven  hundred  yojanas. 

The  kingdom  is  on  a  large  island,  extending  from  east  to 
west  fifty  yojanas,  and  from  north  to  south  thirty.  Left  and 
right  from  it  there  are  as  many  as  one  hundred  small  islands, 
distant  from  one  another  ten,  twenty,  or  even  two  hundred  li ; 
but  all  subject  to  the  large  island.  Most  of  them  produce 
pearls  and  precious  stones  of  various  kinds  ;  there  is  one  which 
produces  the  pure  and  brilliant  pearl — an  island  which  would 


266  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

form  a  square  of  about  ten  li.  The  king  employs  men  to 
watch  and  protect  it,  and  requires  three  out  of  every  ten  pearls 
which  the  collectors  find. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 
At  Ceylon— Feats  of  Buddha — His  Statue  in  Jade 

The  country  originally  had  no  human  inhabitants,  but  was 
occupied  only  by  spirits  and  nagas,  with  which  merchants  of 
various  countries  carried  on  a  trade.  When  the  trafficking 
was  taking  place,  the  spirits  did  not  show  themselves.  They 
simply  set  forth  their  precious  commodities,  with  labels  of  the 
price  attached  to  them ;  while  the  merchants  made  their  pur- 
chases according  to  the  price  ;  and  took  the  things  away. 

Through  the  coming  and  going  of  the  merchants  in  this  way, 
when  they  went  away,  the  people  of  their  various  countries 
heard  how  pleasant  the  land  was,  and  flocked  to  it  in  numbers 
till  it  became  a  great  nation.  The  climate  is  temperate  and 
attractive,  without  any  difference  of  summer  and  winter.  The 
vegetation  is  always  luxuriant.  Cultivation  proceeds  when- 
ever men  think  fit :  there  are  no  fixed  seasons  for  it. 

When  Buddha  came  to  this  country,  wishing  to  transform 
the  wicked  nagas  by  his  supernatural  power,  he  planted  one 
foot  at  the  north  of  the  royal  city,  and  the  other  on  the  top  of 
a  mountain,^  the  two  being  fifteen  yojanas  apart.  Over  the 
footprint  at  the  north  of  the  city  the  king  built  a  large  tope, 
four  hundred  cubits  high,  grandly  adorned  with  gold  and  sil- 
ver, and  finished  with  a  combination  of  all  the  precious  sub- 
stances. By  the  side  of  the  tope  he  further  built  a  monastery, 
called  the  Abhayagiri,  where  there  are  now  five  thousand 
monks.  There  is  in  it  a  hall  of  Buddha,  adorned  with  carved 
and  inlaid  work  of  gold  and  silver,  and  rich  in  the  seven  prec- 
ious substances,  in  which  there  is  an  image  of  Buddha  in  green 
jade,  more  than  twenty  cubits  in  height,  glittering  all  over  with 

*  This    would    be    what    is    known    as  2^  feet  wide.    The  Hindus  regard  it  as 

"  Adam's   peak,"   having,    according   to  the   footprint    of    Siva;    the    Mohamme- 

Hardy,  the  three  names  of  Selesumano,  dans,  as  that  of  Adam;    and  the   Bud- 

Samastakuta,   and    Samanila.     There    is  dhists,   as   in  the  text— as  having   been 

an  indentation  on  the  top  of  it,  a  super-  made  by  Buddha, 
ficial  hollow,  5  feet  3%  inches  long,  and 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  267 

those  substances,  and  having  an  appearance  of  solemn  dignity 
which  words  cannot  express.  In  the  pahii  of  the  right  hand 
there  is  a  priceless  pearl.  Several  years  had  now  elapsed  since 
Fa-hien  left  the  land  of  Han ;  the  men  with  whom  he  had  been 
in  intercourse  had  all  been  of  regions  strange  to  him ;  his  eyes 
had  not  rested  on  an  old  and  familiar  hill  or  river,  plant  or 
tree :  his  fellow-travellers,  moreover,  had  been  separated  from 
him,  some  by  death,  and  others  flowing  off  in  different  direc- 
tions ;  no  face  or  shadow  was  now  with  him  but  his  own,  and 
a  constant  sadness  was  in  his  heart.  Suddenly  one  day,  when 
by  the  side  of  this  image  of  jade,  he  saw  a  merchant  presenting 
as  his  offering  a  fan  of  white  silk  ;^  and  the  tears  of  sorrow  in- 
voluntarily filled  his  eyes  and  fell  down. 

A  former  king  of  the  country  had  sent  to  Central  India  and 
got  a  slip  of  the  patra  tree,  which  he  planted  by  the  side  of  the 
hall  of  Buddha,  where  a  tree  grew  up  to  the  height  of  about 
two  hundred  cubits.  As  it  bent  on  one  side  towards  the  south- 
east, the  king,  fearing  it  would  fall,  propped  it  with  a  post  eight 
or  nine  spans  around.  The  tree  began  to  grow  at  the  very 
heart  of  the  prop,  where  it  met  the  trunk ;  a  shoot  pierced 
through  the  post,  and  went  down  to  the  ground,  where  it 
entered  and  formed  roots,  that  rose  to  the  surface  and  were 
about  four  spans  round.  Although  the  post  was  split  in  the 
middle,  the  outer  portions  kept  hold  of  the  shoot,  and  people 
did  not  remove  them.  Beneath  the  tree  there  has  been  built 
a  vihara,  in  which  there  is  an  image  of  Buddha  seated,  which 
the  monks  and  commonalty  reverence  and  look  up  to  without 
ever  becoming  wearied.  In  the  city  there  has  been  reared  also 
the  vihara  of  Buddha's  tooth,  in  which,  as  well  as  on  the  other, 
the  seven  precious  substances  have  been  employed. 

The  king  practises  the  Brahmanical  purifications,  and  the 
sincerity  of  the  faith  and  reverence  of  the  population  inside  the 
city  are  also  great.  Since  the  establishment  of  government  in 
the  kingdom  there  has  been  no  famine  or  scarcity,  no  revolu- 
tion or  disorder.  In  the  treasuries  of  the  monkish  communi- 
ties there  are  many  precious  stones,  and  the  priceless  manis. 
One  of  the  kings  once  entered  one  of  those  treasuries,  and 
when  he  looked  all  round  and  saw  the  priceless  pearls,  his  cov- 
etous greed  was  excited,  and  he  wished  to  take  them  to  him- 

■We  naturally  suppose  that  the  mer-       as   Fa-hien   had   seen   and   used   in   his 
chant-oflferer  was   a   Chinese,   as   indeed       native  land. 
the  Chinese  texts  say,  and  the  fan  such 


a63  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

self  by  force.  In  three  days,  however,  he  came  to  himself,  and 
immediately  went  and  bowed  his  head  to  the  ground  in  the 
midst  of  the  monks,  to  show  his  repentance  of  the  evil  thought. 
As  a  sequel  to  this,  he  informed  the  monks  of  what  had  been 
in  hfis  mind,  and  desired  them  to  make  a  regulation  that  from 
that  day  forth  the  king  should  not  be  allowed  to  enter  the  treas- 
ury and  see  what  it  contained,  and  that  no  bhikshu  should 
enter  it  till  after  he  had  been  in  orders  for  a  period  of  full  forty 
years. 

In  the  city  there  are  many  Vaisya  elders  and  Sabsean  mer- 
chants, whose  houses  are  stately  and  beautiful.  The  lanes  and 
passages  are  kept  in  good  order.  At  the  heads  of  the  four 
principal  streets  there  have  been  built  preaching  halls,  where, 
on  the  eighth,  fourteenth,  and  fifteenth  days  of  the  month,  they 
spread  carpets,  and  set  forth  a  pulpit,  while  the  monks  and 
commonalty  from  all  quarters  come  together  to  hear  the  Law. 
The  people  say  that  in  the  kingdom  there  may  be  altogether 
sixty  thousand  monks,  who  get  their  food  from  their  common 
stores.  The  king,  besides,  prepares  elsewhere  in  the  city  a 
common  supply  of  food  for  five  or  six  thousand  more.  When 
any  want,  they  take  their  great  bowls,  and  go  to  the  place  of 
distribution,  and  take  as  much  as  the  vessels  will  hold,  all  re- 
turning with  them  full. 

The  tooth  of  Buddha  is  always  brought  forth  in  the  middle 
of  the  third  month.  Ten  days  beforehand  the  king  grandly 
caparisons  a  large  elephant,  on  which  he  mounts  a  man  who 
can  speak  distinctly,  and  is  dressed  in  royal  robes,  to  beat  a 
large  drum,  and  make  the  following  proclamation :  "  The 
Bodhisattva,  during  three  Asankhyeya-kalpas,^  manifested  his 
activity,  and  did  not  spare  his  own  life.  He  gave  up  kingdom, 
city,  wife,  and  son  ;  he  plucked  out  his  eyes  and  gave  them  to 
another ;  he  cut  of^  a  piece  of  his  flesh  to  ransom  the  life  of  a 
dove ;  he  cut  ofif  his  head  and  gave  it  as  an  alms ;  he  gave  his 
body  to  feed  a  starving  tigress ;  he  grudged  not  his  marrow 
and  brains.  In  many  such  ways  as  these  did  he  undergo  pain 
for  the  sake  of  all  living.  And  so  it  was,  that,  having  become 
Buddha,  he  continued  in  the  world  for  forty-five  years,  preach- 

8  A   Kalpa,   we   have   seen,    denotes   a  culations     equal    to     one    followed    by 

great   period    of   time;    a   period    during  seventeen   ciphers;   according  to   Thibe- 

which  a  physical  universe  is  formed  and  tan  and  Singhalese,  equal  to  one  follow- 

destroyed.        Asankhyeya     denotes     the  ed     by     ninety-seven      ciphers.        Every 

highest    sum   for    which    a   conventional  Maha-kalpa   consists   of  four  Asankhye- 

term   exists— according   to   Chinese    cal-  yakalpas. 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  26^ 

ing  his  Law,  teaching  and  transforming,  so  that  those  who  had 
no  rest  found  rest,  and  the  unconverted  were  converted. 
When  his  connection  with  the  hving  was  completed,  he  at- 
tained to  pari-nirvana  and  died.  Since  that  event,  for  one 
thousand  four  hundred  and  ninety-seven  years,  the  hght  of  the 
world  has  gone  out,  and  all  living  things  have  had  long-con- 
tinued sadness.  Behold !  ten  days  after  this,  Buddha's  tooth 
will  be  brought  forth,  and  taken  to  the  Abhayagiri-vihara. 
Let  all  and  each,  whether  monks  or  laics,  who  wish  to  amass 
merit  for  themselves,  make  the  roads  smooth  and  in  good  con- 
dition, grandly  adorn  the  lanes  and  by-ways,  and  provide 
abundant  store  of  flowers  and  incense  to  be  used  as  offerings 
to  it." 

When  this  proclamation  is  over,  the  king  exhibits,  so  as  to 
line  both  sides  of  the  road,  the  five  hundred  diflferent  bodily 
forms  in  which  the  Bodhisattva  has  in  the  course  of  his  history 
appeared  : — here  as  Sudana,  there  as  Sama  ;  now  as  the  king  of 
elephants,  and  then  as  a  stag  or  a  horse.  All  these  figures  are 
brightly  colored  and  grandly  executed,  looking  as  if  they  were 
alive.  After  this  the  tooth  of  Buddha  is  brought  forth,  and  is 
carried  along  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  Everywhere  on  the 
way  offerings  are  presented  to  it,  and  thus  it  arrives  at  the  hall 
of  Buddha  in  the  Abhayagiri-vihara.  There  monks  and  laics 
are  collected  in  crowds.  They  burn  incense,  light  lamps,  and 
perform  all  the  prescribed  services,  day  and  night  without  ceas- 
ing, till  ninety  days  have  been  completed,  when  the  tooth  is 
returned  to  the  vihara  within  the  city.  On  fast-days  the  door 
of  that  vihara  is  opened,  and  the  forms  of  ceremonial  reverence 
are  observed  according  to  the  rules. 

Forty  li  to  the  east  of  the  Abhayagiri-vihara  there  is  a  hill, 
with  a  vihara  on  it,  called  the  Chaitya,  where  there  may  be 
two  thousand  monks.  Among  them  there  is  a  Sramana  of 
great  virtue,  named  Dharma-gupta,  honored  and  looked  up  to 
by  all  the  kingdom.  He  has  lived  for  more  than  forty  years 
in  an  apartment  of  stone,  constantly  showing  such  gentleness 
of  heart,  that  he  has  brought  snakes  and  rats  to  stop  together 
in  the  same  room,  without  doing  one  another  any  harm. 


ayo  THE   TRAVELS   OF   FA-HIEN 

CHAPTER  XXXIX 
Cremation  of  an  Arhat — Sermon  of  a  Devotee 

South  of  the  city  seven  li  there  is  a  vihara,  called  the  Maha- 
vihara,  where  three  thousand  monks  reside.  There  had  been 
among  them  a  Sramana,  of  such  lofty  virtue,  and  so  holy  and 
pure  in  his  observance  of  the  disciplinary  rules,  that  the  people 
all  surmised  that  he  was  an  Arhat.  When  he  drew  near  his 
end,  the  king  came  to  examine  into  the  point ;  and  having  as- 
sembled the  monks  according  to  rule,  asked  whether  the  bhik- 
shu  had  attained  to  the  full  degree  of  Wisdom.  They  an- 
swered in  the  affirmative,  saying  that  he  was  an  Arhat.  The 
king  accordingly,  when  he  died,  buried  him  after  the  fashion 
of  an  Arhat,  as  the  regular  rules  prescribed.  Four  or  five  li 
east  from  the  vihara  there  was  reared  a  great  pile  of  firewood, 
which  might  be  more  than  thirty  cubits  square,  and  the  same 
in  height.  Near  the  top  were  laid  sandal,  aloe,  and  other 
kinds  of  fragrant  wood. 

On  the  four  sides  of  the  pile  they  made  steps  by  which  to 
ascend  it.  With  clean  white  hair-cloth,  almost  like  silk,  they 
wrapped  the  body  round  and  round.  They  made  a  large  car- 
riage-frame, in  form  like  our  funeral  car,  but  without  the 
dragons  and  fishes. 

At  the  time  of  the  cremation,  the  king  and  the  people,  in 
multitudes  from  all  quarters,  collected  together,  and  presented 
offerings  of  flowers  and  incense.  While  they  were  following 
the  car  to  the  burial-ground,  the  king  himself  presented  flowers 
and  incense.  When  this  was  finished,  the  car  was  lifted  on  the 
pile,  all  over  which  oi  of  sweet  basil  was  poured,  and  then  a 
light  was  applied.  While  the  fire  was  blazing,  every  one,  with 
a  reverent  heart,  pulled  off  his  upper  garment,  and  threw  it, 
with  his  feather-fan  and  umbrella,  from  a  distance  into  the 
midst  of  the  flames,  to  assist  the  burning.  When  the  crema- 
tion was  over,  they  collected  and  preserved  the  bones,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  erect  a  tope.  Fa-hien  had  not  arrived  in  time  to  see 
the  distinguished  Shaman  alive,  and  only  saw  his  burial. 

At  that  time  the  king,  who  was  a  sincere  believer  in  the  Law 
of  Buddha  and  wished  to  build  a  new  vihara  for  the  monks, 
first  convoked  a  great  assembly.      After  giving  the  monks  a 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  271 

meal  of  rice,  and  presenting  his  offerings  on  the  occasion,  he 
selected  a  pair  of  first-rate  oxen,  the  horns  of  which  were 
grandly  decorated  with  gold,  silver,  and  the  precious  sub- 
stances. A  golden  plough  had  been  provided,  and  the  king 
himself  turned  up  a  furrow  on  the  four  sides  of  the  ground 
within  which  the  building  was  to  be.  He  then  endowed  the 
community  of  the  monks  with  the  population,  fields,  and 
houses,  writing  the  grant  on  plates  of  metal,  to  the  effect  that 
from  that  time  onwards,  from  generation  to  generation,  no 
one  should  venture  to  annul  or  alter  it. 

In  this  country  Fa-hien  heard  an  Indian  devotee,  who  was 
reciting  a  Sutra  from  the  pulpit,  say :  "  Buddha's  alms-bowl 
was  at  first  in  Vaisali,  and  now  it  is  in  Gandhara.  After  so 
many  hundred  years  (he  gave,  when  Fa-hien  heard  him,  the 
exact  number  of  years,  but  he  has  forgotten  it),  it  will  go  to 
Western  Tukhara ;  after  so  many  hundred  years,  to  Khoten ; 
after  so  many  hundred  years,  to  Kharachar ;  after  so  many 
hundred  years,  to  the  land  of  Han ;  after  so  many  hundred 
years,  it  will  come  to  Sinhala  ;  and  after  so  many  hundred  years, 
it  will  return  to  Central  India.  After  that,  it  will  ascend  to  the 
Tushita  heaven ;  and  when  the  Bodhisattva  Maitreya  sees  it, 
he  will  say  with  a  sigh,  '  The  alms-bowl  of  Sakyamuni  Buddha 
is  come  " ;  and  with  all  the  devas  he  will  present  to  it  flowers 
and  incense  for  seven  days.  When  these  have  expired,  it  will 
return  to  Jambudvipa,  where  it  will  be  received  by  the  king 
of  the  sea  nagas,  and  taken  into  his  naga  palace.  When 
Maitreya  shall  be  about  to  attain  to  perfect  Wisdom  and  be- 
come Buddha,  it  will  again  separate  into  four  bowls,  which 
will  return  to  the  top  of  mount  Anna,  whence  they  came. 
After  Maitreya  has  become  Buddha,  the  four  deva  kings  will 
again  think  of  the  Buddha  with  their  bowls  as  they  did  in  the 
case  of  the  previous  Buddha.  The  thousand  Buddhas  of  this 
Bhadra-kalpa,  indeed,  will  all  use  the  same  alms-bowl ;  and 
when  the  bowl  has  disappeared,  the  Law  of  Buddha  will  go  on 
gradually  to  be  extinguished.  After  that  extinction  has  taken 
place,  the  life  of  man  will  be  shortened,  till  it  is  only  a  period  of 
five  years.  During  this  period  of  a  five  years'  life,  rice,  butter, 
and  oil  will  all  vanish  away,  and  men  will  become  exceedingly 
wicked.  The  grass  and  trees  which  they  lay  hold  of  will 
change  into  swords  and  clubs,  with  which  they  will  hurt,  cut, 
and  kill  one  another.     Those  among  them  on  whom  there  is 


2^2  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

blessing  will  withdraw  from  society  among  the  hills ;  and  when 
the  wicked  have  exterminated  one  another,  they  will  again 
come  forth,  and  say  among  themselves,  '  The  men  of  former 
times  enjoyed  a  very  great  longevity ;  but  through  becoming 
exceedingly  wicked,  and  doing  all  lawless  things,  the  length 
of  our  life  has  been  shortened  and  reduced  even  to  five  years. 
Let  us  now  unite  together  in  the  practice  of  what  is  good,  cher- 
ishing a  gentle  and  sympathizing  heart,  and  carefully  cultivat- 
ing good  faith  and  righteousness.  When  each  one  in  this 
way  practises  that  faith  and  righteousness,  life  will  go  on  to 
double  its  length  till  it  reaches  eighty  thousand  years.  When 
Maitreya  appears  in  the  world,  and  begins  to  turn  the  wheel 
of  this  Law,  he  will  in  the  first  place  save  those  among  the  dis- 
ciples of  the  Law  left  by  the  Sakya  who  have  quitted  their  fami- 
lies, and  those  who  have  accepted  the  three  Refuges,  under- 
taken the  five  Prohibitions  and  the  eight  Abstinences,  and 
given  offerings  to  the  Three  Precious  Ones ;  secondly  and 
thirdly,  he  will  save  those  between  whom  and  conversion  there 
is  a  connection  transmitted  from  the  past.'  "* 

Such  was  the  discourse,  and  Fa-hien  wished  to  write  it  down 
as  a  portion  of  doctrine  ;  but  the  man  said,  "  This  is  taken  from 
no  Sutra,  it  is  only  the  utterance  of  my  own  mind." 


CHAPTER   XL 
After  Two  Years  Fa-hien  Takes  Ship  for  China 

Fa-hien  abode  in  this  country  two  years ;  and,  in  addition 
to  his  acquisitions  in  Patna,  succeeded  in  getting  a  copy  of  the 
Vinaya-pitaka  of  the  Mahisasakah  school ;  the  Dirghagama 
and  Samyuktagama  Siitras ;  and  also  the  Samyukta-safichaya- 
pitaka ; — all  being  works  unknown  in  the  land  of  Han.  Hav- 
ing obtained  these  Sanscrit  works,  he  took  passage  in  a  large 
merchantman,  on  board  of  which  there  were  more  than  two 
hundred  men,  and  to  which  was  attached  by  a  rope  a  smaller 
vessel,  as  a  provision  against  damage  or  injury  to  the  large 
one  from  the  perils  of  the  navigation.  With  a  favorable  wind, 
they  proceeded  eastward  for  three  days,  and  then  they  en- 
countered a  great  wind.     The  vessel  sprang  a  leak  and  the 

•  That  is,  those  whose  Karma  in  the  past  should  be  rewarded  by  such  coh- 
yersion  in  the  present. 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  J73 

water  came  in.  The  merchants  wished  to  go  to  the  smaller 
vessel ;  but  the  men  on  board  it,  fearing  that  too  many  would 
come,  cut  the  connecting  rope.  The  merchants  were  greatly 
alarmed,  feeling  their  risk  of  instant  death.  Afraid  that  the 
vessel  would  fill,  they  took  their  bulky  goods  and  threw  them 
into  the  water.  Fa-hien  also  took  his  pitcher  and  washing- 
basin,  with  some  other  articles,  and  cast  them  into  the  sea ; 
but  fearing  that  the  merchants  would  cast  overboard  his  books 
and  images,  he  could  only  think  with  all  his  heart  of  Kwan- 
she-yin,  and  commit  his  life  to  the  protection  of  the  church  of 
the  land  of  Han,  saying  in  effect,  "  I  have  travelled  far  in  search 
of  our  Law.  Let  me,  by  your  dread  and  supernatural  power, 
return  from  my  wanderings,  and  reach  my  resting-place !  " 

In  this  way  the  tempest  continued  day  and  night,  till  on  the 
thirteenth  day  the  ship  was  carried  to  the  side  of  an  island, 
where,  on  the  ebbing  of  the  tide,  the  place  of  the  leak  was  dis- 
covered, and  it  was  stopped,  on  which  the  voyage  was  resumed. 
On  the  sea  hereabouts  there  are  many  pirates,  to  meet  with 
whom  is  speedy  death.  The  great  ocean  spreads  out,  a  bound- 
less expanse.  There  is  no  knowing  east  or  west ;  only  by  ob- 
serving the  sun,  moon,  and  stars  was  it  possible  to  go  forward. 
If  the  weather  were  dark  and  rainy,  the  ship  went  as  she  was 
carried  by  the  wind,  without  any  definite  course.  In  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night,  only  the  great  waves  were  to  be  seen,  break- 
ing on  one  another,  and  emitting  a  brightness  like  that  of  fire, 
with  huge  turtles  and  other  monsters  of  the  deep  all  about. 
The  merchants  were  full  of  terror,  not  knowing  where  they 
were  going.  The  sea  was  deep  and  bottomless,  and  there  was 
no  place  where  they  could  drop  anchor  and  stop.  But  when 
the  sky  became  clear,  they  could  tell  east  and  west,  and  the  ship 
again  went  forward  in  the  right  direction.  If  she  had  come 
on  any  hidden  rock,  there  would  have  been  no  way  of  escape. 

After  proceeding  in  this  way  for  rather  more  than  ninety 
days,  they  arrived  at  a  country  called  Java-dvipa,  where  vari- 
ous forms  of  error  and  Brahmanism  are  flourishing,  while 
Buddhism  in  it  is  not  worth  speaking  of.  After  staying  there 
for  five  months,  Fa-hien  again  embarked  in  another  large  mer- 
chantman, which  also  had  on  board  more  than  two  hundred 
men.  They  carried  provisions  for  fifty  days,  and  commenced 
the  voyage  on  the  sixteenth  day  of  the  fourth  month. 

Fa-hien  kept  his  retreat  on  board  the  ship.  They  took  a 
Vol.  IV.— 18 


274  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

course  to  the  northeast,  intending  to  fetch  Kwang-chow. 
After  more  than  a  month,  when  the  night-drum  had  sounded 
the  second  watch,  they  encountered  a  black  wind  and  tempestu- 
ous rain,  which  threw  the  merchants  and  passengers  into  con- 
sternation. Fa-hien  again,  with  all  his  heart,  directed  his 
thoughts  to  Kwan-she-yin  and  the  monkish  communities  of 
the  land  of  Han  ;  and,  through  their  dread  and  mysterious  pro- 
tection, was  preserved  to  daybreak.  After  daybreak,  the 
Brahmans  deliberated  together  and  said,  "  It  is  having  this 
Sramana  on  board  which  has  occasioned  our  misfortune  and 
brought  us  this  great  and  bitter  suffering.  Let  us  land  the 
bhikshu  and  place  him  on  some  island-shore.  We  must  not 
for  the  sake  of  one  man  allow  ourselves  to  be  exposed  to  such 
imminent  peril."  A  patron  of  Fa-hien,  however,  said  to  them, 
"  If  you  land  the  bhikshu,  you  must  at  the  same  time  land  me ; 
and  if  you  do  not,  then  you  must  kill  me.  If  you  land  this 
^ramana,  when  I  get  to  the  land  of  Han,  I  will  go  to  the  king, 
and  inform  against  you.  The  king  also  reveres  and  believes 
the  Law  of  Buddha,  and  honors  the  bhikshus."  The  mer- 
chants hereupon  were  perplexed,  and  did  not  dare  immediately 
to  land  Fa-hien. 

At  this  time  the  sky  continued  very  dark  and  gloomy,  and 
the  sailing-masters  looked  at  one  another  and  made  mistakes. 
More  than  seventy  days  passed  from  their  leaving  Java,  and 
the  provisions  and  water  were  nearly  exhausted.  They  used 
the  salt-water  of  the  sea  for  cooking,  and  carefully  divided  the 
fresh  water,  each  man  getting  two  pints.  Soon  the  whole  was 
nearly  gone,  and  the  merchants  took  counsel  and  said,  "  At  the 
ordinary  rate  of  sailing  we  ought  to  have  reached  Kwang- 
chow,  and  now  the  time  is  passed  by  many  days ; — must  we 
not  have  held  a  wrong  course  ?  "  Immediately  they  directed 
the  ship  to  the  northwest,  looking  out  for  land ;  and  after  sail- 
ing day  and  night  for  twelve  days,  they  reached  the  shore  on 
the  south  of  mount  Lao,  on  the  borders  of  the  prefecture  of 
Ch'ang-kwang,  and  immediately  got  good  water  and  vegeta- 
bles. They  had  passed  through  many  perils  and  hardships, 
and  had  been  in  a  state  of  anxious  apprehension  for  many  days 
together ;  and  now  suddenly  arriving  at  this  shore,  and  seeing 
those  well-known  vegetables,  the  lei  and  kwoh,^  they  knew 

»  What  these  vegetables  exactly  were  kwoh,    brings   the  two    names   together 

it  is  difficult  to  say;  and  there  are  dif-  in  a  phrase,  but  the  rendering  of  it  is 

ferent    readings    of    the    characters    for  simply  "  a  soup  of  simples." 
them.       Williams'      Dictionary,     under 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  275 

indeed  that  it  was  the  land  of  Han.  Not  seeing,  however,  any 
inhabitants  nor  any  traces  of  them,  they  did  not  know  where- 
abouts they  were.  Some  said  that  they  had  not  yet  got  to 
Kwang-chow,  and  others  that  they  had  passed  it.  Unable  to 
come  to  a  definite  conclusion,  some  of  them  got  into  a  small 
boat  and  entered  a  creek,  to  look  for  someone  of  whom  they 
might  ask  what  the  place  was.  They  found  two  hunters,  whoni 
they  brought  back  with  them,  and  then  called  on  Fa-hien  to 
act  as  interpreter  and  question  them.  Fa-hien  first  spoke  as- 
suringly  to  them,  and  then  slowly  and  distinctly  asked  them, 
"  Who  are  you?  "  They  replied,  "  We  are  disciples  of  Bud- 
dha." He  then  asked,  "  What  are  you  looking  for  among 
these  hills  ?  "  They  began  to  lie,-  and  said,  "  To-morrow  is 
the  fifteenth  day  of  the  seventh  month.  We  wanted  to  get 
some  peaches  to  present  to  Buddha."  He  asked  further, 
"  What  country  is  this?"  They  replied,  "This  is  the  border 
of  the  prefecture  of  Ch'ang-kwang,  a  part  of  Ts'ing-chow 
under  the  ruling  House  of  Ts'in."  When  they  heard  this,  the 
merchants  were  glad,  immediately  asked  for  a  portion  of  their 
money  and  goods,  and  sent  men  to  Ch'ang-kwang  city. 

The  prefect  Le  E  was  a  reverent  believer  in  the  Law  of  Bud- 
dha. When  he  heard  that  a  Sramana  had  arrived  in  a  ship 
across  the  sea,  bringing  with  him  books  and  images,  he  imme- 
diately came  to  the  sea-shore  with  an  escort  to  meet  the  travel- 
ler, and  receive  the  books  and  images,  and  took  them  back 
with  him  to  the  seat  of  his  government.  On  this  the  mer- 
chants went  back  in  the  direction  of  Yang-chow ;  but  when 
Fa-hien  arrived  at  Ts'ing-chow,  the  prefect  there  begged  him 
to  remain  with  him  for  a  winter  and  a  summer.  After  the 
summer  retreat  was  ended,  Fa-hien,  having  been  separated  for 
a  long  time  from  his  fellows,  wished  to  hurry  to  Ch'ang-gan ; 
but  as  the  business  which  he  had  in  hand  was  important,  he 
went  south  to  the  Capital ;  and  at  an  interview  with  the  masters 
there  exhibited  the  Sutras  and  the  collection  of  the  Vinaya 
which  he  had  procured. 

After  Fa-hien  set  out  from  Ch'ang-gan,  it  took  him  six  years 
to   reach   Central   India;   stoppages  there  extended  over  six 

*  It    is    likely    that    these    men    were  But  what  had  disciples  of  Buddha  to  do 

really  hunters;   and,   when   brought   be-  with    hunting    and    taking    life?      They 

fore  Fa-hien,  because  he  was  a  Sramana,  were  caught  in  their  own  trap,  and  said 

they  thought  they  would  please  him  by  they  were  looking  for  peaches, 
saying  they  were  disciples  of   Buddha- 


^A" 


276  THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN 

years;  and  on  his  return  it  took  him  three  years  to  reach 
Ts'ing-chow.  The  countries  through  which  he  passed  were 
a  few  under  thirty.  From  the  sandy  desert  westwards  on  to 
India,  the  beauty  of  the  dignified  demeanor  of  the  monkhood 
and  of  the  transforming  influence  of  the  Law  was  beyond  the 
power  of  language  fully  to  describe ;  and  reflecting  how  our 
masters  had  not  heard  any  complete  account  of  them,  he  there- 
fore went  on  without  regarding  his  own  poor  life,  or  the  dan- 
gers to  be  encountered  on  the  sea  upon  his  return,  thus  incur- 
ring hardships  and  difficulties  in  a  double  form.  He  was 
fortunate  enough,  through  the  dread  pov>^er  of  the  three 
Honored  Ones,  to  receive  help  and  protection  in  his  perils ; 
and  therefore  he  wrote  out  an  account  of  his  experiences,  that 
worthy  readers  might  share  with  him  in  what  he  had  heard  and 
said. 


i 


THE  TRAVELS  OF  FA-HIEN  277 

CONCLUSION 

By  an  Unknozvn  Writer. 

It  was  in  the  year  Keah-yin,  the  twelfth  year  of  the  period  E- 
he  of  the  Eastern  Ts'in  dynasty,  the  year-star  being  in  Virgo- 
Libra,  in  the  summer,  at  the  close  of  the  period  of  retreat,  that 
I  met  the  devotee  Fa-hien.  On  his  arrival  I  lodged  him  with 
myself  in  the  winter  study,  and  there,  in  our  meetings  for  con- 
versation, I  asked  him  again  and  again  about  his  travels.  The 
man  was  modest  and  complaisant,  and  answered  readily  ac- 
cording to  the  truth.  I  thereupon  advised  him  to  enter  into 
details  where  he  had  at  first  only  given  a  summary,  and  he 
proceeded  to  relate  all  things  in  order  from  the  beginning  to 
the  end.  He  said  himself,  "  When  I  look  back  on  what  I  have 
gone  through,  my  heart  is  involuntarily  moved,  and  the  per- 
spiration flows  forth.  That  I  encountered  danger  and  trod  the 
most  perilous  places,  without  thinking  of  or  sparing  myself, 
was  because  I  had  a  definite  aim,  and  thought  of  nothing  but 
to  do  my  best  in  my  simplicity  and  straightforwardness.  Thus 
it  was  that  I  exposed  my  life  where  death  seemed  inevitable, 
if  I  might  accomplish  but  a  ten-thousandth  part  of  what  I 
hoped."  These  words  affected  me  in  turn,  and  I  thought : — 
This  man  is  one  of  those  who  have  seldom  been  seen  from 
ancient  times  to  the  present.  Since  the  Great  Doctrine  flowed 
on  to  the  East  there  has  been  no  one  to  be  compared  with 
Hien  in  his  forgetfulness  of  self  and  search  for  the  Law. 
Henceforth  I  know  that  the  influence  of  sincerity  finds  no  ob- 
stacle, however  great,  which  it  does  not  overcome,  and  that 
force  of  will  does  not  fail  to  accomplish  whatever  service  it 
undertakes.  Does  not  the  accomplishing  of  such  service  arise 
from  forgetting  and  disregarding  what  is  generally  considered 
as  important,  and  attaching  importance  to  what  is  generally 
forgotten  ? 


THE    SORROWS    OF    HAN 

[Translated  into  English  by  John  Francis  Davis] 


INTRODUCTION 

**  "^  I  ^HE  Sorrows  of  Han  "  is  considered  by  Chinese  schol- 
I  ars  to  be  one  of  the  largest  tragedies  in  the  whole 
range  of  the  Chinese  drama,  which  is  very  volumi- 
nous. Although,  properly  speaking,  there  are  no  theatres  in 
China,  the  Chinese  are  passionately  fond  of  dramatic  represen- 
tations. Chinese  acting  is  much  admired  and  praised  by  travel- 
lers who  are  competent  to  follow  the  dialogue.  The  stage  is 
generally  a  temporary  erection  improvised  in  a  market-place, 
and  the  stage  arrangements  are  of  the  most  primitive  character  ; 
no  scenery  is  employed,  and  the  actors  introduce  themselves  in 
a  sort  of  prologue,  in  which  they  state  the  name  and  character 
they  represent  in  the  drama.  They  also  indicate  the  place  where 
they  are  in  the  story,  or  the  house  which  they  have  entered. 
Yet  the  Chinese  stage  has  many  points  in  common  with  that  of 
Ancient  Greece.  It  is  supported  and  controlled  by  govern- 
ment, and  has  something  of  a  religious  and  national  character, 
being  particularly  employed  for  popular  amusement  in  the  cel- 
ebration of  religious  festivals.  Only  two  actors  are  allowed  to 
occupy  the  stage  at  the  same  time,  and  this  is  another  point  in 
common  with  the  early  Greek  drama.  The  plots  or  stories  of 
the  Chinese  plays  are  simple  and  effective,  and  Voltaire  is 
known  to  have  taken  the  plot  of  a  Chinese  drama,  as  Moliere 
took  a  comedy  of  Plautus,  and  applied  it  in  writing  a  drama  for 
the  modern  French  stage.  "  The  Sorrows  of  Han  "  belongs 
to  the  famous  collection  entitled  "  The  Hundred  Plays  of  the 
Yuen  Dynasty."  It  is  divided  into  acts  and  is  made  up  of  al- 
ternate prose  and  verse.  The  movement  of  the  drama  is  good, 
and  the  denouement  arranged  with  considerable  skill. 

E.W. 


281 


TRANSLATOR'S   PREFACE 

THE  following  drama  was  selected  from  the  "  Hundred 
Plays  of  Yuen,"  which  has  already  supplied  to  Europe 
two  specimens  of  the  Chinese  stage — the  first,  called 
the  "  Orphan  of  Chaou,"  translated  by  Pere  Premare ;  and  the 
second,  entitled  an  "  Heir  in  Old  Age,"  by  the  author  of  the 
present  version.  "  The  Sorrows  of  Han  "  is  historical,  and 
relates  to  one  of  the  most  interesting  periods  of  the  Chinese 
annals,  when  the  growing  effeminacy  of  the  court,  and  con- 
sequent weakness  of  the  government,  emboldened  the  Tartars 
in  their  aggressions,  and  first  gave  rise  to  the  temporizing  and 
impolitic  system  of  propitiating  those  barbarians  by  tribute, 
which  long  after  produced  the  downfall  of  the  empire  and 
the  establishment  of  the  Mongol  dominion. 

The  moral  of  the  piece  is  evidently  to  expose  the  evil  con- 
sequences of  luxury,  effeminacy,  and  supineness  in  the  sover- 
eign. 

**  When  love  was  all  an  easy  monarch's  care, 
Seldom  at  council — never  in  a  war." 

The  hero,  or  rather  the  chief  personage,  of  the  drama,  came 
to  the  throne  very  near  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era, 
about  B.C.  42.  The  fate  of  the  Lady  Chaoukeun  is  a  favorite 
incident  in  history,  of  which  painters,  poets,  and  romancers 
frequently  avail  themselves ;  her  "  Verdant  Lamb  "  is  said  to 
exist  at  the  present  day,  and  to  remain  green  all  the  year 
round,  while  the  vegetation  of  the  desert  in  which  it  stands 
is  parched  by  the  summer  sun. 

In  selecting  this  single  specimen  from  among  so  many,  the 
translator  was  influenced  by  the  consideration  of  its  remark- 
able accordance  with  our  own  canons  of  criticism.  The  Chi- 
nese themselves  make  no  regular  classification  of  comedy  and 
tragedy ;  but  we  are  quite  at  liberty  to  give  the  latter  title  to 
283 


284  THE   SORROWS   OF  HAN 

a  play  which  so  completely  answers  to  the  European  definition. 
The  unity  of  action  is  complete,  and  the  unities  of  time  and 
place  much  less  violated  than  they  frequently  are  on  our  own 
stage.  The  grandeur  and  gravity  of  the  subject,  the  rank  and 
dignity  of  the  personages,  the  tragical  catastrophe,  and  the 
strict  award  of  poetical  justice,  might  satisfy  the  most  rigid 
admirer  of  Grecian  rules.  The  translator  has  thought  it  neces- 
sary to  adhere  to  the  original  by  distinguishing  the  first  act  (or 
Proem)  from  the  four  which  follow  it:  but  the  distinction  is 
purely  nominal,  and  the  piece  consists,  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
poses, of  five  acts.  It  is  remarkable  that  this  peculiar  division 
holds  true  with  regard  to  a  large  number  of  the  "  Hundred 
Plays  of  Yuen." 

The  reader  will  doubtless  be  struck  by  the  apparent  short- 
ness of  the  drama  which  is  here  presented  to  him ;  but  the 
original  is  eked  out,  in  common  with  all  Chinese  plays,  by  an 
irregular  operatic  species  of  song,  which  the  principal  char- 
acter occasionally  chants  forth  in  unison  with  a  louder  or  a 
softer  accompaniment  of  music,  as  may  best  suit  the  sentiment 
or  action  of  the  moment.  Some  passages  have  been  embodied 
in  our  version :  but  the  translator  did  not  give  all,  for  the 
same  reasons  that  prompted  Pere  Premare  to  give  none — 
"  they  are  full  of  allusions  to  things  unfamiliar  to  us,  and 
figures  of  speech  very  difficult  for  us  to  observe."  They  are 
frequently,  moreover,  mere  repetitions  or  amplifications  of  the 
prose  parts;  and  being  intended  more  for  the  ear  than  the 
eye,  are  rather  adapted  to  the  stage  than  to  the  closet. 

His  judgment  may  perhaps  be  swayed  by  partiality  towards 
the  subject  of  his  own  labors ;  but  the  translator  cannot  help 
thinking  the  plot  and  incidents  of  "  The  Sorrows  of  Han  "  su- 
perior to  those  of  the  "  Orphan  of  Chaou  " — though  the  genius 
of  Voltaire  contrived  to  make  the  last  the  ground-work  of  an 
excellent  French  tragedy.  Far  is  he,  however,  from  entertain- 
ing the  presumptuous  expectation  that  a  destiny  of  equal 
splendor  awaits  the  present  drama ;  and  he  will  be  quite  satis- 
fied if  the  reader  has  patience  to  read  it  to  the  end,  and  then 
pronounces  it  to  be  a  somewhat  curious  sample  of  a  very  for- 
eign literature. 

JOHN  FRANCIS  DAVIS. 


DRAMATIS  PERS0N;E 

YuENTE,  Emperor  of  China  of  the  Dynasty  Han. 
Hanchenyu,  K'han  of  the  Tartars. 
Maouyenshow,  a  worthless  Minister  of  the  Emperor. 
Shangshoo  (a  title),  President  of  the  Imperial  Council. 
Changshee  (a  title),  Officer  in  waiting. 
Fanshe  (a  title).  Envoy  of  the  K'han. 
Chaoukeun,  Lady,  raised  to  be  Princess  of  Han. 
Tartar  Soldiers,  Female  Attendants,  Eunuchs. 

The  Scene  is  laid  in  the  Tartar  Camp  on  the  Frontiers ;  and 
in  the  Palace  of  Han. 


THE    SORROWS    OF    HAN' 
PROLOGUE 

Enter  Hanchenyu,  K'han\  of  the  Tartars,  reciting  four  verses. 

K'han.  The  autumnal  gale  blows  wildly  through  the  grass, 

amidst  our  woolen  tents. 
And  the  moon  of  night,  shining  on  the  rude  huts,  hears  the 

lament  of  the  mournful  pipe : 
The  countless  hosts,  with  their  bended  horns,  obey  me  as 

their  leader. 
Our  tribes  arc  ten  distinguished  friends  of  the  family  of 
Han.  I  am  Hanchenyu,  the  old  inhabitant  of  the  sandy 
waste ;  the  sole  ruler  of  the  northern  regions.  The  wild 
chase  is  our  trade ;  battle  and  conquest  our  chief  occupa- 
tion. The  Emperor  Wunwong  retired  before  our  Eastern 
tribes :  Weikcang  trembled  at  us,  and  sued  for  our  friend- 
ship. The  ancient  title  of  our  chiefs  has  in  the  course  of 
time  been  changed  to  that  which  I  now  bear.  When  the  two 
races  of  Tsin  and  Han  contended  in  battle,  and  filled  the 
empire  with  tumult, our  tribes  were  in  full  power:  number- 
less was  the  host  of  armed  warriors  with  their  bended 
horns.  For  seven  days  my  ancestor  hemmed  in  with  his 
forces  the  Emperor  Kaoute ;  until,  by  the  contrivance  of 
the  minister,  a  treaty  was  concluded,  and  the  Princesses  of 
China  were  yielded  in  marriage  to  our  K'hans.  Since  the 
time  of  Hoeyte  and  the  Empress  Leuhow,J  each  successive 
generation  has  adhered  to  the  established  rule,  and  sought 
our  alliance  with  its  daughters.     In  the  reign  of  the  late 

•  Han    Kooner    Tsew,    literally    "  Au-  t  In   Chinese,   Ko-han. 

tumn  in  the   Palace   of   Han";    but   in  t  The  mother  of  Hoeyte,   a  bold  and 

Chinese,     Autnmn     is     emblematic     of        able  woman,  who  ruled  for  her  son,  the 
Sorrow,  as  Spring  is   of  Joy,  and   may        second  emperor  of  Han. 
therefore  be  rendered  by  what  it  repre- 
sents. 

287 


288  THE   SORROWS   OF  HAN 

Emperor  Seuente,  my  brothers  contended  with  myself  fof 
the  rule  of  our  nation,  and  its  power  was  weakened  until 
the  tribes  elected  me  as  their  chief.  I  am  a  real  descendant 
of  the  empire  of  Han.  I  command  a  hundred  thousand 
armed  warriors.  We  have  moved  to  the  South,  and  ap- 
proached the  border,  claiming  an  alliance  with  the  Im- 
perial race.  Yesterday  I  despatched  an  envoy  with  tribu- 
tary presents  to  demand  a  princess  in  marriage ;  but  know 
not  if  the  Emperor  will  ratify  the  engagement  with  the 
customary  oaths.  The  fineness  of  the  season  has  drawn 
away  our  chiefs  on  a  hunting  excursion  amidst  the  sandy 
steppes.  May  they  meet  with  success,  for  we  Tartars 
have  no  fields — our  bows  and  arrows  are  our  sole  means 
of  subsistence. 

Enter  Minister  of  Han,  reciting  verses. 

Minister.  Let  a  man  have  the  heart  of  a  kite,  and  the  talons 

of  an  eagle. 
Let  him  deceive  his  superiors,  and  oppress  those  below 

him; 
Let  him  enlist  flattery,  insinuation,  profligacy,  and  avarice 

on  his  side. 
And  he  will  find  them  a  lasting  assistance  through  life. 
I  am  no  other  than  Maouyenshow,  a  minister  of  the 
sovereign  of  Han.  By  a  hundred  arts  of  specious  flat- 
tery and  address  I  have  deceived  the  Emperor,  until  he 
places  his  whole  delight  in  me  alone.  My  words  he 
listens  to;  and  he  follows  my  counsel.  Within  the  pre- 
cincts of  the  palace,  as  without  them,  who  is  there  but 
bows  before  me — who  is  there  but  trembles  at  my  ap- 
proach ?  But  observe  the  chief  art  which  I  have  learned : 
It  is  this:  to  persuade  the  Emperor  to  keep  aloof  from 
his  wise  counsellors,  and  seek  all  his  pleasures  amidst  the 
women  of  his  palace.  Thus  it  is  that  I  strengthen  my 
power  and  greatness.  But,  in  the  midst  of  my  lucubrations 
— Here  comes  the  Emperor. 

Enter  Emperor  Yuente,  attended  by  Eunuchs  and  Women. 

Emperor    [recites  verses].  During  the   ten   generations   that 
have  succeeded  our  acquisition  of  Empire,  my  race  has 


THE  SORROWS  OF  HAN  289 

alone  possessed  the  four  hundred  districts  of  the  world. 
Long  have  the  frontiers  been  bound  in  tranquillity  by  the 
ties  of  mutual  oaths. 

And  our  pillow  has  been  undisturbed  by  grief  or  anxiety. 
Behold  in  us  the  Emperor  Yuente,  of  the  race  of  Han. 
Our  ancestor  Kaoute  emerged  from  a  private  station,  and 
raised  his  family  by  extinguishing  the  dynasty  of  Tsin,  and 
slaughtering  their  race.  Ten  generations  have  passed 
away  since  he  left  this  inheritance  to  us.  The  four  boun- 
daries of  the  empire  have  been  tranquil ;  the  eight  regions 
at  rest !  But  not  through  our  personal  merits ;  we  have 
wholly  depended  on  the  exertions  of  our  civil  and  military 
rulers.  On  the  demise  of  our  late  father,  the  female  in- 
mates of  the  palace  were  all  dispersed,  and  our  harem 
is  now  solitary  and  untenanted ;  but  how  shall  this  be  en- 
dured ! 

Minister.  Consider,  sir,  that  even  the  thriving  husbandman 
may  desire  to  change  his  partner;  then  why  not  your 
Majesty,  whose  title  is  the  Law  of  Heaven,  whose  pos- 
sessions are  the  whole  world !  May  I  advise  that  com- 
missioners be  despatched  to  search  throughout  the  empire 
for  all  of  whatever  rank  that  is  most  beautiful  between 
the  ages  of  fifteen  and  twenty,  for  the  peopling  of  the 
inner  palace. 

Emperor.  You  say  well.  We  appoint  you  at  once  our  min- 
ister of  selection,  and  will  invest  you  with  a  written  au- 
thority. Search  diligently  through  our  realms ;  and  when 
you  have  selected  the  most  worthy,  let  us  be  provided  with 
portraits  of  each,  as  a  means  of  fixing  our  choice.  By  the 
merits  of  your  services,  you  may  supply  us  with  an  occa- 
sion of  rewarding  you  on  your  return.  [Exeunt. 
Vol.  IV.— 19 


ACT  FIRST 

Minister  [repeats  verses].  The  huge  ingots  of  yellow  gold  I 

appropriate  to  myself. 
I  heed  not  the  seas  of  blood  which  flow  by  perverting  ihQ 

laws. 
During  life  I  am  determined  to  have  abundance  of  riches ; 
what  care  I  for  the  curses  of  mankind  after  my  death? 
Having  received  the  Emperor's  commission  to  search  far 
and  wide  for  the  most  beautiful  damsels,  I  have  fixed  upon 
ninety  and  nine.  Their  families  were  glad  to  invite  my 
selection  by  rich  gifts,  and  the  treasure  that  I  have 
amassed  is  not  small.  On  arriving  yesterday  at  a  district 
pertaining  to  Chingtoo  city,  I  met  with  a  maiden,  daughter 
of  one  Wongchang.  The  brightness  of  her  charms  was 
piercing  as  an  arrow.  She  was  perfectly  beautiful — and 
doubtless  unparalleled  in  the  whole  empire.  But,  unfor- 
tunately, her  father  is  a  cultivator  of  the  land,  not  pos- 
sessed of  much  wealth.  When  I  insisted  on  a  hundred 
ounces  of  gold  to  secure  her  being  the  chief  object  of  the 
imperial  choice,  they  first  pleaded  their  poverty — and  then, 
relying  on  her  extraordinary  beauty,  rejected  my  offers 
altogether.     I  therefore  left  them.     [Considers  awhile.] 

But  no! 1  have  a  better  plan.     [He  knits  his  brows 

and  matures  his  scheme.]  I  will  disfigure  her  portrait  in 
such  a  manner  that  when  it  reaches  the  Emperor  it  shall 
secure  her  being  doomed  to  neglected  seclusion.  Thus  I 
shall  contrive  to  make  her  unhappy  for  life — Base  is  the 
man  who  delights  not  in  revenge !  [Exit. 

Night. — Enter  the  Lady  Chaoukeun,  with  two  female  attend- 
ants. 

Chaoukeun  [recites  verses].  Though  raised  to  be  an  inhabi- 
tant of  the  imperial  dwelling 
290 


THE   SORROWS   OF   HAN  291 

I  have  long  been  here  without  the  good  fortune  to  see 

my  prince. 
This  beautiful  night  must  I  pass  in  lonely  solitude, 
With  no  companion  but  my  lute  to  solace  my  retirement. 
I  am  a  native  of  Chingtoo  city ;  and  my  father's  occupa- 
tion is  husbandry.  My  mother  dreamed  on  the  day  I  was 
born  that  the  light  of  the  moon  shone  on  her  bosom,  but 
was  soon  cast  low  to  the  earth.*  I  was  just  eighteen  years 
of  age  when  chosen  as  an  inhabitant  of  the  imperial  palace  ; 
but  the  minister  Maouyenshow,  disappointed  in  the  treas- 
ure  which  he  demanded  on  my  account,  disfigured  my 
portrait  in  such  a  manner  as  to  keep  me  out  of  the  Em- 
peror's presence ;  and  now  I  live  in  neglected  solitude. 
While  at  home,  I  learned  a  little  music,  and  could  play 
a  few  airs  on  the  lute.  Thus  sorrowing  in  the  stillness  of 
midnight,  let  me  practise  one  of  my  songs  to  dispel  my 
griefs.  [Begins  to  play  on  the  lute. 

Enter  Emperor,  attended  by  a  Eunuch,  carrying  a  light. 

Emperor.  Since  the  beauties  were  selected  to  grace  our  palace, 
we  have  not  yet  discovered  a  worthy  object  on  whom  to 
fix  our  preference.  Vexed  and  disappointed,  we  pass  this 
day  of  leisure  roaming  in  search  of  her  who  may  be  des- 
tined for  our  imperial  choice.  [Hears  the  lute.]  Is  not 
that  some  lady's  lute? 

Attendant.  It  is. — I  hasten  to  advise  her  of  your  Majesty's 
approach. 

Emperor.  No,  hold!  Keeper  of  the  yellow  gate,  discover  to 
what  part  of  our  palace  that  lady  pertains;  and  bid  her 
approach  our  presence ;  but  beware  lest  you  alarm  her. 

Attendant  [approaches  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  and 
speaks].  What  lady  plays  there?  The  Emperor  comes! 
approach  to  meet  him.  [Lady  advances. 

Emperor.  Keeper  of  the  yellow  gate,  see  that  the  light  burns 
brightly  within  your  gauze  f  lamp,  and  hold  it  nearer  to 
us. 

Lady  [approaching].  Had  your  handmaid  but  known  it  was 
your  Majesty,  she  would  have  been  less  tardy;  forgive, 
then,  this  delay. 

•  Boding  a  short  but  fatal  distinction  t  Instead  of  glass,  to  defend  it  from 

to  her  offspring.  the  wind. 


292 


THE  SORROWS  OF  HAN 


Emperor.  Truly  this  is  a  very  perfect  beauty!  From  what 
quarter  come  such  superior  charms  ? 

Lady.  My  name  is  Chaoukeun :  my  father  cultivates  at  Ching- 
too  the  fields  which  he  has  derived  from  his  family.  Born 
in  an  humble  station,  I  am  ignorant  of  the  manners  that 
befit  a  palace. 

Emperor.  But  with  such  uncommon  attractions,  what  chance 
has  kept  you  from  our  sight? 

Lady.  When  I  was  chosen  by  the  minister  Maouyenshow,  he 
demanded  of  my  father  an  amount  of  treasure  which  our 
poverty  could  not  supply ;  he  therefore  disfigured  my  por- 
trait, by  representing  a  scar  under  the  eyes,  and  caused 
me  to  be  consigned  to  seclusion  and  neglect. 

Emperor.  Keeper  of  the  yellow  gate,  bring  us  that  picture, 
that  we  may  view  it.  [Sees  the  picture.]  Ah,  how  has 
he  dimmed  the  purity  of  the  gem,  bright  as  the  waves  in 
autumn.  [To  the  attendant.]  Transmit  our  pleasure  to 
the  officer  of  the  guard,  to  behead  Maouyenshow  and  re- 
port to  us  his  execution. 

Lady.  My  parents,  sir,  are  subject  to  the  tax  *  in  our  native 
district.  Let  me  entreat  your  Majesty  to  remit  their  con- 
tributions and  extend  favor  towards  them! 

Emperor.  That  shall  readily  be  done.  Approach  and  hear  our 
imperial  pleasure.    We  create  you  a  Princess  of  our  palace. 

Lady.  How  unworthy  is  your  handmaid  of  such  gracious  dis- 
tinction! [Goes  through  the  form  of  returning  thanks.] 
Early  to-morrow  I  attend  your  Majesty's  commands  in 
this  place.  The  Emperor  is  gone :  let  the  attendants  close 
the  doors : — I  will  retire  to  rest.  [Exit. 

*  The  principal  taxes  in  China  are  the  source  of  much  oppression  to  the  lowest 
i:ind-tax,  customs,  salt  monopoly,  and  orders,  who  have  nothing  but  their  la- 
personal    service;     which    last    is    the       bor  to  contribute. 


ACT  SECOND 

Enter  K'han  of  the  Tartars,  at  the  head  of  his  Tribes. 

K'han.  I  lately  sent  an  envoy  to  the  sovereign  of  Han,  with 
the  demand  of  a  princess  in  marriage ;  but  the  Emperor 
has  returned  a  refusal,  under  the  plea  that  the  princess  is 
yet  too  young.  This  answer  gives  me  great  trouble.  Had 
he  not  plenty  of  ladies  in  his  palace,  of  whom  he  might 
have  sent  me  one?  The  difference  was  of  little  conse- 
quence.* Let  me  recall  my  envoy  with  all  speed,  for  I 
must  invade  the  South  with  out  forces.  And  yet  I  am 
unwilling  to  break  a  truce  of  so  many  years'  standing! 
We  must  see  how  matters  turn  out,  and  be  guided  by  the 
event. 

Enter  Minister  of  Han. 

Minister.  The  severity  with  which  I  extorted  money,  in  the 
selection  of  beauties  for  the  palace,  led  me  to  disfigure 
the  picture  of  Chaoukeun,  and  consign  her  to  neglected 
seclusion.  But  the  Emperor  fell  in  with  her,  obtained  the 
truth,  and  condemned  me  to  lose  my  head.  I  contrived 
to  make  my  escape — though  I  have  no  home  to  receive 
me.  I  will  take  this  true  portrait  of  Chaoukeun  and  show 
it  to  the  Tartar  K'han,  persuading  him  to  demand  her 
from  the  Emperor,  who  will  no  doubt  be  obliged  to  yield 
her  up.  A  long  journey  has  brought  me  to  this  spot,  and 
from  the  troops  of  men  and  horses  I  conclude  I  have 
reached  the  Tartar  camp.  [Addresses  himself  to  some- 
body.] Leader,  inform  King  Hanchenyu  that  a  great 
minister  of  the  empire  of  Han  is  come  to  wait  on  him. 

K'han  [on  being  informed].  Command  him  to  approach. 
[Seeing  Maotiyenshoiv.]     What  person  are  you? 

Minister.  I  am  a  minister  of  Han.  In  the  western  palace  of 
the  Emperor  is  a  lady,  named  Chaoukeun,  of  rare  and  sur- 

•  The  honor   of  the   imperial   alliance  being  the  chief  object. 
293 


294  THE   SORROWS   OF  HAN 

passing  charms.  When  your  envoy,  great  king,  came  to 
demand  a  princess,  this  lady  would  have  answered  the 
summons,  but  the  Emperor  of  Han  could  not  bring  himself 
to  part  with  her,  and  refused  to  yield  her  up.  I  repeatedly 
renewed  my  bitter  reproaches,  and  asked  how  he  could 
bear,  for  the  sake  of  a  woman's  beauty,  to  implicate  the 
welfare  of  two  nations.  For  this  the  Emperor  would  have 
beheaded  me;  and  I  therefore  escaped  with  the  portrait 
of  the  lady,  which  I  present,  great  king,  to  yourself^ 
Should  you  send  away  an  envoy  with  the  picture  to  de- 
mand her,  she  must  certainly  be  delivered  up.  Here  is  the 
portrait.  [Hands  it  up. 

K'han.  Whence  could  so  beautiful  a  female  have  appeared 
in  the  world !  If  I  can  only  obtain  her,  my  wishes  are  com- 
plete. Immediately  shall  an  envoy  be  despatched,  and  my 
ministers  prepare  a  letter  to  the  Emperor  of  Han,  de- 
manding her  in  marriage  as  the  condition  of  peace. 
Should  he  refuse,  I  will  presently  invade  the  South:  his 
hills  and  /ivers  shall  be  exposed  to  ravage.  Our  warriors 
iWJll  commence  by  hunting,  as  they  proceed  on  their  way; 
and  thus  gradually  entering  the  frontiers,  I  shall  be  ready 
to  act  as  may  best  suit  the  occasion.  [Exit. 

The  Palace  of  Han.    Enter  Lady,  attended  by  females. 

Princess.  A  long  period  has  elapsed  since  I  had  to  thank  his 
Majesty  for  his  choice.  The  Emperor's  fondness  for  me 
is  so  great,  that  he  has  still  neglected  to  hold  a  court.  I 
hear  he  is  now  gone  to  the  hall  of  audience,  and  will  there- 
fore ornament  myself  at  my  toilet  and  be  ready  to  wait 
on  him  at  his  return.  [Stands  opposite  a  mirror. 

Enter  Emperor. 

Emperor.  Since  we  first  met  with  Chaoukeun  in  the  western 
palace,  we  have  been  as  it  were  deranged  and  intoxicated ; 
a  long  interval  has  elapsed  since  we  held  a  court ;  and 
on  entering  the  hall  of  audience  this  day,  we  waited  not  . 
until  the  assembly  had  dispersed,  but  returned  hither  to 
obtain  a  sight  of  her.  [Perceiving  the  Princess.]  Let  us 
not  alarm  her,  but  observe  in  secret  what  she  is  doing. 


THE   SORROWS   OF   HAN  495 

[Comes  close  behind  and  looks  over  her.]     Reflected  in 
that  round  mirror,  she  resembles  the  Lady  in  the  Moon.* 

Enter  President,  and  an  Officer  in  waiting. 

President    [recites  z'erses].  Ministers   should   devote   them- 
selves to  the  regulation  of  the  empire; 
They  should  be  occupied  with  public  cares  in  the  hall  of 

government. 
But  they  do  nought  but  attend  at  the  banquets  in  the  palace. 
When  have  they  employed  a  single  day  in  the  service  of 

their  prince  ? 
This  day,  when  the  audience  was  concluded,  an  envoy 
arrived  from  the  Tartars  to  demand  Chaoukeun  in  mar- 
riage, as  the  only  condition  of  peace.  It  is  my  duty  to 
report  this  to  his  Majesty,  who  has  retired  to  his  western 
palace.  Here  I  must  enter.  [Perceiz'ing  the  Emperor.] 
I  report  to  your  Majesty  that  Hanchenyu,  the  leader  of 
the  northern  foreigners,  sends  an  envoy  to  declare  that 
Maouyenshow  has  presented  to  him  the  portrait  of  the 
princess,  and  that  he  demands  her  in  marriage  as  the  only 
condition  of  peace.  If  refused,  he  will  invade  the  South 
with  a  great  power,  and  our  rivers  and  hills  will  be  ex- 
posed to  rapine. 

Emperor.  In  vain  do  we  maintain  and  send  forth  armies  ;  vain 
are  the  crowds  of  civil  and  military  officers  about  our 
palace !  Which  of  them  will  drive  back  for  us  these  for- 
eign troops?  They  are  all  afraid  of  the  Tartar  swords 
and  arrows !  But  if  they  cannot  exert  themselves  to  expel 
the  barbarians,  why  call  for  the  princess  to  propitiate  them  ? 

President.  The  foreigners  say  that  through  your  Majesty's 
devoted  fondness  for  the  princess,  the  affairs  of  your  em- 
pire are  falling  into  ruin.  They  declare  that  if  the  gov- 
ernment does  not  yield  her  up,  they  will  put  their  army 
in  motion,  and  subdue  the  country.  Your  servant  reflects, 
that  Chow-wongf  who  lost  his  empire  and  life  entirely 
through  his  blind  devotion  to  Takee,  is  a  fit  example  to 
warn  your  Majesty.     Our  army  is  weak,  and  needs  the 

•  Changngo,  the  goddess  of  the  moon,  t  Chow-wong     was     the     last     of    the 

gives  her  name  to  the  finely  curved  eye-  Shang    dynasty,    and    infamous    by    his 

brows  of  the   Chinese   ladies,   which  are  debaucheries    and    cruelties,    in    concert 

compared    to    the    lunar   crescent    when  with  his  empress  Takee,   the  Theodora 

only  a  day  or  two  old.  of  Chinese  history. 


296  THE   SORROWS   OF  HAN 

talents  of  a  fit  general.  Should  we  oppose  the  Tartars, 
and  be  defeated,  what  will  remain  to  us?  Let  your 
Majesty  give  up  your  fondness  for  the  princess,  to  save 
your  people. 

Officer.  The  envoy  waits  without  for  an  audience. 

Emperor.  Well ;  command  that  he  approach  us. 

Enter  Envoy. 

Envoy.  Hanchenyu,  K'han  of  the  Tartars,  sends  me,  his  min- 
ister, to  state  before  the  great  Sovereign  of  Han,  that  the 
Northern  tribes  and  the  Southern  empire  have  long  been 
bound  in  peace  by  mutual  alliances ;  but  that  envoys  being 
twice  sent  to  demand  a  princess,  his  requisitions  have  been 
refused.  The  late  minister,  Maouyenshow,  took  with  him 
the  portrait  of  a  beautiful  lady,  and  presented  it  to  the 
K'han,  who  now  sends  me,  his  envoy,  on  purpose  to  de- 
mand the  Lady  Chaoukeun,  and  no  other,  as  the  only  con- 
dition of  peace  between  the  two  nations.  Should  your 
Majesty  refuse,  the  K'han  has  a  countless  army  of  brave 
warriors,  and  will  forthwith  invade  the  South  to  try  the 
chances  of  war.  I  trust  your  Majesty  will  not  err  in  your 
decision. 

Emperor.  The  envoy  may  retire  to  repose  himself  in  his  lodg- 
ing. [Exit  the  Envoy.]  Let  our  civil  and  military  officers 
consult,  and  report  to  us  the  best  mode  of  causing  the  for- 
eign troops  to  retire,  without  yielding  up  the  princess  to 
propitiate  them.  They  take  advantage  of  the  compliant 
softness  of  her  temper.  Were  the  Empress  Leuhow  alive 
— let  her  utter  a  word — which  of  them  would  dare  to  be 
of  a  different  opinion  ?  It  would  seem  that,  for  the  future, 
instead  of  men  for  ministers,  we  need  only  have  fair 
women  to  keep  our  empire  in  peace. 

Princess.  In  return  for  your  Majesty's  bounties,  it  is  your 
handmaid's  duty  to  brave  death  to  serve  you.  I  can 
cheerfully  enter  into  this  foreign  alliance,  for  the  sake  of 
producing  peace,  and  shall  leave  behind  me  a  name  still 
green  in  history. — But  my  affection  for  your  Majesty, 
how  am  I  to  lay  aside ! 

Emperor.  Alas,  I  *  know  too  well  that  I  can  do  no  more  than 
yourself! 

•  The  imperial  pronoun  "  Tchin,"  me,  is  with  very  good  taste  supplied  by  /  io 
these  impassioned  passages. 


THE   SORROWS   OF  HAN 


297 


President.  I  entreat  your  Majesty  to  sacrifice  your  love,  and 
think  of  the  security  of  your  Dynasty.  Hasten,  sir,  to  send 
the  princess  on  her  way ! 

Emperor.  Let  her  this  day  advance  a  stage  on  her  journey, 
and  be  presented  to  the  envoy. — To-morrow  we  will  repair 
as  far  as  the  bridge  of  Pahling,  and  give  her  a  parting 
feast. 

President.  Alas !  Sir,  this  may  not  be !  It  will  draw  on  us 
the  contempt  of  these  barbarians. 

Emperor.  We  have  complied  with  all  our  minister's  proposi- 
tions— shall  they  not,  then,  accede  to  ours?  Be  it  as  it 
may,  we  will  witness  her  departure — and  then  return  home 
to  hate  the  traitor  Maouyenshow ! 

President.  Unwillingly  we  advise  that  the  princess  be  sacri- 
ficed for  the  sake  of  peace ;  but  the  envoy  is  instructed  to 
insist  upon  her  alone — and  from  ancient  times,  how  often 
hath  a  nation  suffered  for  a  woman's  beauty ! 

Princess.  Though  I  go  into  exile  for  the  nation's  good,  yet  ill 
can  I  bear  to  part  from  your  Majesty !  [Exeunt. 


ACT  THIRD 

Enter  Envoy,  escorting  the  Princess,  with  a  hand  of  music. 

Princess.  Thus  was  I,  in  spite  of  the  treachery  of  Maouyen- 
show,  who  disfigured  my  portrait,  seen  and  exalted  by 
his  Majesty;  but  the  traitor  presented  a  truer  Hkeness  to 
the  Tartar  king,  who  comes  at  the  head  of  an  army  to 
demand  me,  with  a  threat  of  seizing  the  country.  There 
is  no  remedy — I  must  be  yielded  up  to  propitiate  the  in- 
vaders !  How  shall  I  bear  the  rigors — the  winds  and 
frosts  of  that  foreign  land !  It  has  been  said  of  old,  that 
"  surpassing  beauty  is  often  coupled  with  an  unhappy 
fate."  Let  me  grieve,  then,  without  entertaining  fruitless 
resentment  at  the  effects  of  my  own  attractions. 

Enter  Emperor,  attended  by  his  several  officers. 

Emperor.  This  day  we  take  leave  of  the  princess  at  Pahling 
bridge!  {To  his  ministers.]  Can  ye  not  devise  a  way  to 
send  out  these  foreign  troops,  without  yielding  up  the 
princess  for  the  sake  of  peace?  [Descends  from  his  horse 
and  seems  to  grieve  zvith  Chaoukeun.]  Let  our  attend- 
ants delay  awhile,  till  we  have  conferred  the  parting  cup. 

Envoy.  Lady,  let  us  urge  you  to  proceed  on  your  way — the 
sky  darkens,  and  night  is  coming  on. 

Princess.  Alas !  when  shall  I  again  behold  your  Majesty  ?  I 
will  take  off  my  robes  of  distinction  and  leave  them  be- 
hind me.  To-day  in  the  palace  of  Han — to-morrow  I 
shall  be  espoused  to  a  stranger.  I  cease  to  wear  these 
splendid  vestments — they  shall  no  longer  adorn  my  beauty 
in  the  eyes  of  men. 

Envoy.  Again  let  us  urge  you,  princess,  to  depart;  we  have 
delayed  but  too  long  already  ! 

Emperor.  'Tis  done! — Princess,  when  you  are  gone,  let  your 
thoughts  forbear  to  dwell  with  sorrow  and  resentment 
298 


THE    SORROWS    OF   HAN 


299 


Upon  us!  [They  part.]  And  am  I  the  great  Monarch  of 
the  Hne  of  Han  ? 

President.  Let  your  Majesty  cease  to  dwell  with  such  grief 
upon  this  subject ! 

Emperor.  She  is  gone!  In  vain  have  we  maintained  those 
armed  heroes  on  the  frontier.*  Mention  but  swords  and 
spears,  and  they  tremble  at  their  hearts  like  a  young  deer. 
The  princess  has  this  day  performed  what  belonged  to 
themselves :   and  yet  they  affect  the  semblance  of  men ! 

President.  Your  Majesty  is  entreated  to  return  to  the  palace: 
dwell  not  so  bitterly,  Sir,  on  her  memory: — allow  her  to 
depart ! 

Emperor.  Did  I  not  think  of  her,  I  had  a  heart  of  iron — a 
heart  of  iron !  The  tears  of  my  grief  stream  in  thousand 
channels — this  evening  shall  her  likeness  be  suspended  in 
the  palace,  where  I  will  sacrifice  to  it — and  tapers  with 
their  silver  lights  shall  illuminate  her  chamber. 

President.  Let  your  Majesty  return  to  the  palace — the  prin- 
cess is  already  far  distant!  [Exeunt. 

The  Tartar  Camp.    Enter  K'han  at  the  head  of  his  tribes,  lead- 
ing in  the  Princess. 

K'han.  The  Emperor  of  Han  having  now,  in  observance  of 
old  treaties,  yielded  up  to  me  the  Lady  Chaoukeun  in  mar- 
riage, I  take  her  as  my  rightful  queen.  The  two  nations 
shall  enjoy  the  benefits  of  peace.  [To  his  generals.] 
Leaders,  transmit  my  commands  to  the  army  to  strike  our 
encampment,  and  proceed  to  the  north.  [They  march. 

The  river  Amoor.\     Tartar  army  on  its  march. 

Princess.  What  place  is  this  ? 

Envoy.  It  is  the  River  of  the  Black  Dragon,  the  frontier  of 

the  Tartar  territories  and  those  of  China.     This  southern 

shore  is  the  Emperor's;   on  the  northern  side  commences 

our  Tartar  dominion. 
Princess  [to  the  K'han].  Great  King,  I  take  a  cup  of  wine, 

and  pour  a  libation  towards  the  South — my  last  farewell 

•  It  may  be  observed   that  the  great  at  this  time,  but  the  real  frontier  was 

wall  is  never  once  expressly  mentioned  beyond  it. 

through    this    drama.      The    expression  t  Or    Saghalien,    which    falls    into   the 

used  is  Peensih,  the  border,  or  frontier.  sea  of  Ochotsk. 
The  wall  had  existed  two  hundred  years 


300  THE   SORROWS  OF  HAN 

to  the  Emperor — [pours  the  libation]  of  Han,  this  life  is 
finished.    I  await  thee  in  the  next ! 

[  Throws  herself  into  the  river.  The  K'han,  in  great  consterna- 
tion, endeavors  to  save  her,  but  in  vain. 

K'han.  Alas!  alas! — so  determined  was  her  purpose  against 
this  foreign  alliance — she  has  thrown  herself  into  the 
stream,  and  perished!  'Tis  done,  and  remediless!  Let 
her  sepulchre  be  on  this  river's  bank,  and  be  it  called  "  the 
verdant  tomb."  *  She  is  no  more ;  and  vain  has  been 
our  enmity  with  the  dynasty  of  Han !  The  traitor  Maou- 
yenshow  was  the  author  of  all  this  misery.  [To  an  of- 
ficer.] Take  Maouyenshow  and  let  him  be  delivered  over 
to  the  Emperor  for  punishment.  I  will  return  to  our 
former  friendship  with  the  dynasty  of  Han.  We  will  re- 
new and  long  preserve  the  sentiments  of  relationship.  The 
traitor  disfigured  the  portrait  to  injure  Chaoukeun — then 
deserted  his  sovereign,  and  stole  over  to  me,  whom  he 
prevailed  on  to  demand  the  lady  in  marriage.  How  little 
did  I  think  that  she  would  thus  precipitate  herself  into 
the  stream,  and  perish ! — In  vain  did  my  spirit  melt  at  the 
sight  of  her !  But  if  I  detained  this  profligate  and  traitor- 
ous rebel,  he  would  certainly  prove  to  us  a  root  of  mis- 
fortune :  it  is  better  to  deliver  him  for  his  reward  to  the 
Emperor  of  Han,  with  whom  I  will  renew,  and  long  retain, 
our  old  feelings  of  friendship  and  amity.  [Exeunt. 

•  Said  to  exist  now  and  to  be  green  all  the  y««r. 


ACT  FOURTH 

Enter  Emperor,  with  an  attendant. 

Emperor.  Since  the  princess  was  yielded  to  the  Tartars,  we 
have  not  held  an  audience.  The  lonely  silence  of  night 
out  increases  our  melancholy !  We  take  the  picture  of 
thai  fair  one  and  suspend  it  here,  as  some  small  solace  to 
our  griefs.  [To  the  attendant.]  Keeper  of  the  yellow 
gate,  behold,  the  incense  in  yonder  vase  is  burnt  out: 
hasten  then  to  add  some  more.  Though  we  cannot  see  her, 
we  may  at  least  retain  this  shadow ;  and,  while  life  re- 
mains, betoken  our  regard.  But  oppressed  and  weary, 
we  vv'ould  fain  take  a  little  repose. 

[Lies  dozvn  to  sleep.     The  Princess  appears  before  him  in  a 
vision.* 

Princess.  Delivered  over  as  a  captive  to  appease  the  bar- 
barians, they  would  have  conveyed  me  to  their  Northern 
country:  but  I  took  an  occasion  to  elude  them  and  have 
escaped  back.  Is  not  this  the  Emperor,  my  sovereign? 
Sir,  behold  me  again  restored. 

[A  Tartar  soldier  appears  in  the  vision. 

Soldier.  While  I  chanced  to  sleep,  the  lady,  our  captive,  has 
made  her  escape,  and  returned  home.  In  eager  pursuit 
of  her,  I  have  reached  the  imperial  palace. — Is  not  this 
she? 

[Carries  her  off.    The  Emperor  starts  from  his  sleep. 

Emperor.  We  just  saw  the  Princess  returned — but  alas,  how 
quickly  has  she  vanished !  In  bright  day  she  answered  not 
to  our  call — but  when  morning  dawned  on  our  troubled 
sleep,  a  vision  presented  her  in  this  spot.  [Hears  the  wild 
fowl's^  cry.]     Hark,  the  passing  fowl  screamed  twice  or 

•  There  is  nothing  in  this  more  ex-  tachment  and  fidelity,  being  said  never 
travagant  than  the  similar  vision  in  the  to  pair  again  after  the  loss  of  its  mate, 
tragedy  of   Richard   III.  An  image  of  it  is  worshipped  by  newly 

1  Yengo,   a   species   of  wild   goose,   is       married  couples, 
the  emblem  in  China  of  intersexual  at- 

301 


302  THE   SORROWS   OF   HAN 

thrice! — Can  it  know  there  is  no  one  so  desolate  as  I? 
[Cries  repeated.]  Perhaps  worn  out  and  weak,  hungry 
and  emaciated^  they  bewail  at  once  the  broad  nets  of  the 
South  and  the  tough  bows  of  the  North.  [Cries  repeated.] 
The  screams  of  those  water-birds  but  increase  our  melan- 
choly. 

Attendant.  Let  your  Majesty  cease  this  sorrow,  and  have 
some  regard  to  your  sacred*  person. 

Emperor.  My  sorrows  are  beyond  control.  Cease  to  upbraid 
this  excess  of  feeling,  since  ye  are  all  subject  to  the  same. 
Yon  doleful  cry  is  not  the  note  of  the  swallow  on  the 
carved  rafters,  nor  the  song  of  the  variegated  bird  upon 
the  blossoming  tree.  The  princess  has  abandoned  her 
home !  Know  ye  in  what  place  she  grieves,  listening  like 
me  to  the  screams  of  the  wild  bird  ? 

Enter  President. 

President.  This  day  after  the  close  of  the  morning  council, 
a  foreign  envoy  appeared,  bringing  with  him  the  fettered 
traitor  Maouyenshow.  He  announces  that  the  renegade, 
by  deserting  his  allegiance,  led  to  the  breach  of  truce,  and 
occasioned  all  these  calamities.  The  princess  is  no  more ! 
and  the  K'han  wishes  for  peace  and  friendship  between 
the  two  nations.  The  envoy  attends,  with  reverence,  your 
imperial  decision. 
Emperor.  Then  strike  oflf  the  traitor's  head,  and  be  it  pre- 
sented as  an  offering  to  the  shade  of  the  princess!  Let 
a  fit  banquet  be  got  ready  for  the  envoy,  preparatory  to  his 
return.  [Recites  these  verses. 

At  the  fall  of  the  leaf,  when  the  wild-fowl's  cry  was  heard 

in  the  recesses  of  the  palace. 
Sad  dreams  returned  to  our  lonely  pillow ;  we  thought  of 

her  through  the  night : 
Her  verdant  tomb  remains — but  where  shall  we  seek  her- 
self? 
The  perfidious  painter's  head  shall  atone  for  the  beauty 
which  he  wronged. 

•  Literally,  "  dragon  person."    The  emperor's  throne  is  often  called  the  "  dragon  seat." 


AN  ARABIAN  SONG. 

Photogravure  from  a  painting  bv  R.  Lemweher. 


Copyright,   igoo, 
By  the  colonial  PRESS. 


CONTENTS 

THE   ROMANCE  OF   ANTAR 

PAG« 

Introduction 3 

The  Early  Fortunes  of  Antar 7 

Khaled  and  Djaida  i5 

The  Absians  and  Fazareans 26 

ARABIAN   POETRY 

Introduction  49 

Selections. — 

An  Elegy  S3 

The  Tomb  of  Mano 55 

Tomb  of  Sayid  56 

On  the  Death  of  His  Mistress 57 

On  Avarice  57 

The  Battle  of  Sabla 58 

Verses  to  My  Enemies 59 

On  His  Friends   60 

On  Temper  60 

The  Song  of  Maisuna 61 

To  My  Father  61 

On  Fatalism  62 

To  the  Caliph  Harun-al-Rashid 62 

Lines  to  Harun  and  Yahia 63 

The  Ruin  of  Barmecides 63 

To  Taher  Ben  Hosien 63 

The  Adieu  64 

To  My  Mistress    64 

To  a  Female  Cup-bearer 65 

Mashdud  on  the  Monks  of  Khabbet 65 

Rakeek  to  His  Female  Companions 66 

Dialogue  by  Rais   66 

To  a  Lady  Weeping 67 

On  a  Valetudinarian    67 

On  a  Miser  68 

To  Cassim  Obio  Allah 68 

A  Friend's  Birthday  68 


iv  CONTENTS 

PAGB 

To  a  Cat  69 

An  Epigram  upon  Ebn  Naphta-Wah 70 

Fire 70 

To  a  Lady  Blushing 70 

On  the  Vicissitudes  of  Life 71 

To  a  Dove  71 

On  a  Thunder  Storm 72 

To  My  Favorite  Mistress "jz 

Crucifixion  of  Ebn  Bakiah 73 

Caprices  of  Fortune  73 

On  Life  74 

Extempore  Verses  74 

On  the  Death  of  a  Son 75 

To  Leila  76 

On  Moderation  in  our  Pleasures 76 

The  Vale  of  Bozaa tj 

To  Adversity  77 

On  the  Incompatibility  of  Pride  and  True  Glory 78 

The  Death  of  Nedham  Almolk 78 

Lines  to  a  Lover 78 

Verses  to  My  Daughters 79 

Serenade  to  My  Sleeping  Mistress 80 

The  Inconsistent  80 

The  Capture  of  Jerusalem 80 

To  a  Lady   81 

An  Epigram   82 

On  a  Little  Man  with  a  Very  Large  Beard 82 

Lamiat  Alajem  83 

To  Youth  89 

On  Love  89 

A  Remonstrance  with  a  Drunkard 90 

Verses    90 

On  Procrastination  91 

The  Early  Death  of  Abou  Alhassan  Aly 91 

The  Interview   92 


ARABIAN   NIGHTS 

The  Seven  Voyages  of  Sindbad 95 

First  Voyage  98 

Second  Voyage   103 

Third  Voyage  108 

Fourth  Voyage  114 

Fifth  Voyage  120 

Sixth  Voyage  125 

Seventh  and  Last  Voyage 131 

Aladdin's  Wonderful  Lamp 136 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING    PACK 

An  Arabian  Song FronUspiece 

Photogravure  from  a  painti.i;; 

Page  from  an  Arabic  Story-Book    .         .         .         .         .92 

Fac-simile  example  of  Oriental  Printing  and  Engraving 


THE   ROMANCE   OF   ANTAR 

[Translation  by  Etienne  Delecluse  and  Epiphanius  Wilson] 


INTRODUCTION 

THE  romantic  figure  of  Antar,  or  Antarah,  takes  the  same 
place  in  Arabian  literature  as  that  of  Achilles  among 
the  Greeks.  The  Cid  in  Spain,  Orlando  in  Italy,  and 
Arthur  in  England,  are  similar  examples  of  national  ideals  put 
forth  by  poets  and  romance  writers  as  embodiments  of  a  cer- 
tain half-mythic  age  of  chivalry,  when  personal  valor,  pru- 
dence, generosity,  and  high  feeling  gave  the  warrior  an  admit- 
ted preeminence  among  his  fellows.  The  literature  of  Arabia 
is  indeed  rich  in  novels  and  tales.  The  "  Thousand  and  One 
Nights  "  is  of  world-wide  reputation,  but  the  "  Romance  of 
Antar  "  is  much  less  artificial,  more  expressive  of  high  moral 
principles,  and  certainly  superior  in  literary  style  to  the  fan- 
tastic recitals  of  the  coffee  house  and  bazaar,  in  which  Sinbad 
and  Morgiana  figure.  A  true  picture  of  Bedouin  society,  in  the 
centuries  before  Mohammed  had  conquered  the  Arabian  penin- 
sula, is  given  us  in  the  charming  episodes  of  Antar.  We  see 
the  encampments  of  the  tribe,  the  camels  yielding  milk  and  flesh 
for  food,  the  women  friends  and  councillors  of  their  husbands, 
the  boys  inured  to  arms  from  early  days,  the  careful  breeding 
of  horses,  the  songs  of  poet  and  minstrel  stirring  all  hearts,  the 
mail-clad  lines  of  warriors  with  lance  and  sword,  the  supreme 
power  of  the  King— often  dealing  out  justice  with  stern,  sud- 
den, and  inflexible  ferocity.  Among  these  surroundings  Antar 
appears,  a  dazzling  and  irresistible  warrior  and  a  poet  of  won- 
derful power.  The  Arab  classics,  in  years  long  before  Moham- 
med had  taken  the  Kaaba  and  made  it  the  talisman  of  his 
creed,  were  hung  in  the  little  shrine  where  the  black  volcanic 
stone  was  kept.  They  were  known  as  Maallakat,  or  Sus- 
pended Books,  which  had  the  same  meaning  among  Arabian 
literati  as  the  term  classic  bore  among  the  Italian  scholars  of 
the  Renaissance.  Numbered  with  these  books  of  the  Kaaba 
were  the  poems  of  Antar,  who  was  thus  the  Taliessin  of  Ara- 
bian chivalry. 

3 


4  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

It  is  indeed  necessary  to  recollect  that  in  reading  the  epi- 
sodes of  Antar  we  have  been  taken  back  to  the  heroic  age  in 
the  Arabian  peninsula.  War  is  considered  the  noblest  occu- 
pation of  a  man,  and  Khaled  despises  the  love  of  a  noble  mai- 
den "  from  pride  in  his  passion  for  war."  Antar  has  his  fam- 
ous horse  as  the  Cid  had  his  Babieca,  and  his  irresistible  sword 
as  Arthur  his  Excalibur.  The  wealth  of  chiefs  and  kings  con- 
sists in  horses  and  camels ;  there  is  no  mention  of  money  or 
jewelry.  When  a  wager  is  made  the  stakes  are  a  hundred 
camels.  The  commercial  spirit  of  the  Arabian  Nights  is 
wanting  in  this  spirited  romance  of  chivalry.  The  Arabs  had 
sunk  to  a  race  of  mere  traders  when  Aladdin  became  pos- 
sessed of  his  lamp,  and  the  trickery,  greed,  and  avarice  of  ped- 
lers  and  merchants  are  exhibited  in  incident  after  incident  of 
the  "  Thousand  and  One  Nights."  War  is  despised  or  feared, 
courage  less  to  be  relied  upon  than  astute  knavery,  and  one  of 
the  facts  that  strikes  us  is  the  general  frivolity,  dishonesty,  and 
cruelty  which  prevail  through  the  tales  of  Bagdad.  The  op- 
posite is  the  case  with  Antar.  Natural  passion  has  full  play, 
but  nobility  of  character  is  taken  seriously,  and  generosity  and 
sensibility  of  heart  are  portrayed  with  truthfulness  and  naivete." 
Of  course  the  whole  romance  is  a  collection  of  many  romantic 
stories :  it  has  no  epic  unity.  It  will  remind  the  reader  of  the 
"  Morte  d'Arthur  "  of  Sir  Thomas  Malory,  rather  than  of  the 
"  Iliad."  We  have  chosen  the  most  striking  of  these  episodes 
as  best  calculated  to  serve  as  genuine  specimens  of  Arabian 
literature.  They  will  transport  the  modern  reader  into  a  new 
world — which  is  yet  the  old,  long  vanished  world  of  pastoral 
simplicity  and  warlike  enthusiasm,  in  primitive  Arabia.  But 
the  novelty  lies  in  the  plot  of  the  tales.  Djaida  and  Khaled, 
Antar  and  Ibla,  and  the  race  between  Shidoub  and  the  great 
racers  Dahir  and  Ghabra,  bring  before  our  eyes  with  singular 
freshness  the  character  of  a  civilization,  a  domestic  life,  a  po- 
litical system,  which  were  not  wanting  in  refinement,  purity, 
and  justice.  The  conception  of  such  a  dramatic  personage  as 
Antar  would  be  original  in  the  highest  degree,  if  it  were  not 
based  upon  historic  fact.  Antar  is  a  more  real  personage  than 
Arthur,  and  quite  as  real  and  historic  as  the  Cid.  Yet  his 
adventures  remind  us  very  much  of  those  which  run  through 
the  story  of  the  Round  Table. 

The  Arabs,  in  the  days  of  romance,  were  a  collection  of  tribes 


INTRODUCTION  5 

and  families  whose  tents  and  villages  were  spread  along  the 
Red  Sea,  between  Egypt  and  the  Indian  Ocean.  There  were 
some  tribes  more  powerful  than  others,  and  the  result  of  their 
tyranny  was  often  bitter  war.  There  was  no  central  mon- 
archy, no  priesthood,  and  no  written  law.  The  only  stable  and 
independent  unit  was  the  family.  Domestic  life  with  its  pur- 
est virtues  constituted  the  strong  point  amongst  the  Arabian 
tribes,  where  gentleness,  free  obedience,  and  forbearance  were 
conspicuous.  Each  tribe  bore  the  name  of  its  first  ancestor, 
and  from  him  and  his  successors  came  down  a  traditionary, 
unwritten  law,  the  violation  of  which  was  considered  the  most 
heinous  of  offences.  There  was  no  settled  religion  before  the 
conquest  of  Mohammed ;  each  tribe  and  each  family  wor- 
shipped whom  they  would — celestial  spirits,  sun  and  moon,  or 
certain  idols.  In  the  account  given  in  Antar  of  the  Council 
of  War,  the  ancients,  or  old  men  of  the  tribe,  came  forth  with 
idols  or  amulets  round  their  necks,  and  the  whole  account  of 
the  council,  in  which  the  bard  as  well  as  the  orator  addressed 
the  people,  is  strictly  accurate  in  historic  details.  The  custom 
of  infanticide  in  the  case  of  female  children  was  perfectly  au- 
thorized among  the  Arabs,  and  illustrates  the  motive  of  the 
pretty  episode  of  Khaled  and  Djaida.  War  was  individual  and 
personal  among  the  Arabs,  and  murder  was  atoned  for  by  mur- 
der, or  by  the  price  of  a  certain  number  of  camels.  Raising 
of  horses,  peaceful  contests  in  arms,  or  poetic  competitions 
where  each  bard  recited  in  public  his  compositions,  formed 
their  amusements.  They  were  very  sensible  to  the  charms  of 
music,  poetry  and  oratory,  and  as  a  general  rule  the  Arab 
chieftain  was  brave,  generous,  and  munificent. 

All  these  historic  facts  are  fully  reflected  in  the  highly  emo- 
tional tale  of  "  Antar,"  which  is  the  greatest  of  all  the  national 
romances  of  Arabia.  It  would  scarcely  be  possible  to  fix  upon 
any  individual  writer  as  its  author,  for  it  has  been  edited  over 
and  over  again  by  Arabian  scribes,  each  adding  his  own  glosses 
and  enriching  it  with  incidents.  Its  original  date  may  have 
been  the  sixth  century  of  our  era,  about  five  hundred  years  be- 
fore the  production  of  the  "  Thousand  and  One  Nights." 

E.  W. 


THE    ROMANCE    OF    ANTAR 


THE   EARLY    FORTUNES   OF  ANTAR 

AT  the  time  the  "  Romance  of  Antar  "  opens,  the  most 
powerful  and  the  best  governed  of  the  Bedouin  tribes 
were  those  of  the  Absians  and  the  Adnamians.  King 
Zoheir,  chief  of  the  Absians,  was  firmly  established  upon  his 
throne,  so  that  the  kings  of  other  nations,  who  were  subject  to 
him,  paid  him  tribute.  The  whole  of  Arabia  in  short  became 
subject  to  the  Absians,  so  that  all  the  chiefs  of  other  tribes  and 
all  inhabitants  of  the  desert  dreaded  their  power  and  depreda- 
tions. 

Under  these  circumstances,  and  as  a  consequence  of  a  fla- 
grant act  of  tyranny  on  the  part  of  Zoheir,  several  chieftains, 
among  whom  was  Shedad,  a  son  of  Zoheir,  seceded  from  the 
Absian  tribe,  and  set  out  to  seek  adventures,  to  attack  other 
tribes,  and  to  carry  off  their  cattle  and  treasure.  These  chief- 
tains arrived  at  the  dwelling-place  of  a  certain  tribe,  named 
Djezila,  whom  they  fought  with  and  pillaged.  Amongst  their 
booty  was  a  black  woman  of  extraordinary  beauty,  the  mother 
of  two  children.  Her  name  was  Zebiba ;  her  elder  son  was 
Djaris ;  her  younger  Shidoub.  Shedad  became  passionately 
enamoured  of  this  woman,  and  yielded  all  the  rest  of  his  share 
in  the  booty  in  order  to  obtain  possession  of  her  and  her  two 
children.  He  dwelt  in  the  fields  with  this  negress,  whose  sons 
took  care  of  the  cattle.  In  course  of  time  Zebiba  bore  a  son  to 
Shedad.  This  child  was  born  tawny  as  an  elephant ;  his  eyes 
were  bleared,  his  head  thick  with  hair,  his  features  hard  and 
fixed.  The  corners  of  his  mouth  drooped,  his  eyes  started 
from  his  head,  his  bones  were  hard,  his  feet  long ;  he  had  ears 
of  prodigious  size,  and  his  glance  flashed  like  fire.  In  other 
respects  he  resembled  Shedad,  who  was  transported  with  de- 
light at  the  sight  of  his  son,  whom  he  named  Antar. 

7 


8  THE   ROMANCE   OF   ANTAR 

Meanwhile  the  child  waxed  in  strength,  and  his  name  soon 
became  known.  Then  the  companions  of  Shedad  wished  to 
dispute  the  possession  of  the  boy  with  him,  and  King  Zoheir 
was  informed  of  the  matter.  He  demanded  that  the  boy 
should  be  brought  into  his  presence,  and  Shedad  complied. 
As  soon  as  the  king  caught  sight  of  this  extraordinary  child, 
he  uttered  a  cry  of  astonishment,  and  flung  him  a  piece  of 
goat's  fiesh.  At  the  same  moment  a  dog,  who  happened  to  be 
in  the  tent,  seized  the  meat  and  ran  ofif  with  it.  But  Antar, 
filled  wath  rage,  pursued  the  animal,  and,  violently  taking  hold 
of  him,  drew  his  jaws  apart,  splitting  the  throat  down  to  the 
shoulders,  and  thus  recovered  the  meat.  King  Zoheir,  in 
amazement,  deferred  the  matter  to  the  Cadi,  who  confirmed 
Shedad's  possession  of  Zebiba,  and  her  three  children,  Djaris, 
Shidoub,  and  Antar. 

Shedad  therefore  provided  a  home  for  Zebiba,  in  order  that 
his  sons  might  be  educated  in  their  business  of  tending  the 
herds.  It  was  at  this  time  that  Antar  began  to  develop  his 
strength  of  body,  his  courage,  and  intelligence.  When  he  was 
ten  years  of  age  he  slew  a  wolf  which  threatened  to  attack  the 
herds  committed  to  his  charge.  Although  brutal,  headstrong, 
and  passionate,  he  early  exhibited  a  love  of  justice,  and  a  dis- 
position to  protect  the  weak,  especially  women.  He  put  to 
death  a  slave  who  beat  an  old  woman,  his  slave  and  compan- 
ion ;  and  this  action,  although  at  first  misunderstood,  eventu- 
ally gained  the  admiration  of  King  Zoheir,  who  treated  Antar 
with  distinction,  because  of  his  nobility  of  character.  In  con- 
sequence of  this  action,  which  had  been  so  much  applauded  by 
King  Zoheir,  the  young  Arab  women  and  their  mothers  hung 
round  Antar  to  learn  the  details  of  this  courageous  deed,  and 
to  congratulate  him  on  his  magnanimity. 

Among  the  young  women  was  Ibla,  daughter  of  Malek,  the 
son  of  Zoheir.  Ibla,  fair  as  the  full  moon,  was  somewhat 
younger  than  Antar.  She  was  accustomed  to  banter  him  in  a 
familiar  way,  feeling  that  he  was  her  slave.  "  And  you,"  she 
said  to  him,  "  you,  born  so  low,  how  dared  you  kill  the  slave  of 
a  prince  ?  What  provocation  can  you  have  against  him  ?  " 
"  Mistress,"  replied  Antar,  "  I  struck  that  slave  because  he  de- 
served it,  for  he  had  insulted  a  poor  woman.  He  knocked  her 
down,  and  made  her  the  laughing  stock  of  all  the  servants." 
"  Of  course  you  were  right,"  answered  Ibla,  with  a  smile,  "  and 


THE  EARLY  FORTUNES  OF  ANTAR         9 

we  were  all  delighted  that  you  escaped  frotn  the  adventure 
safe  and  sound.  Because  of  the  service  you  have  rendered  us 
by  your  conduct,  our  mothers  look  upon  you  as  a  son,  and  we 
as  a  brother." 

From  that  moment  Antar  made  the  service  of  women  his 
special  duty  above  all  others.  At  that  time  the  Arabian  ladies 
had  the  habit  of  drinking  camel's  milk  morning  and  evening, 
and  it  was  especially  the  duty  of  those  who  waited  upon  them 
to  milk  the  camels,  and  to  cool  it  in  the  wind  before  offering  it 
to  them.  Antar  had  been  for  some  time  released  from  this 
duty,  when  one  morning  he  entered  the  dwelling  of  his  uncle 
Malek,  and  found  there  his  aunt,  engaged  in  combing  the  hair 
of  her  daughter  Ibla,  whose  ringlets,  black  as  the  night,  floated 
over  her  shoulders.  Antar  was  struck  with  surprise,  and  Ibla, 
as  soon  as  she  knew  that  he  had  seen  her,  fled  and  left  him 
with  his  eyes  fixed  abstractedly  on  her  disappearing  form. 

It  was  from  this  incident  that  the  love  of  Antar  for  the  daugh- 
ter of  his  uncle  took  its  origin.  He  saw  how  Ibla  shone  in  so- 
ciety, and  his  passion  grew  to  such  an  extent  that  he  ventured 
to  sound  her  praises,  and  to  express  the  feeling  she  excited  in 
him  by  writing  verses  which,  while  they  gained  the  admiration 
of  the  multitude,  incurred  also  the  envy  of  the  chieftains. 
Moreover  his  father  could  not  pardon  the  presumption  of  An- 
tar, who,  born  a  slave,  had  dared  to  cast  eyes  on  his  free-born 
cousin. 

When  therefore  he  slew  a  slave  who  had  slandered  him,  his 
father  ordered  him  to  be  flogged,  and  sent  away  to  watch  over 
the  cattle  in  the  pastures.  He  had  now  before  him  a  fresh  op- 
portunity for  exhibiting  his  prodigious  strength  and  invincible 
courage.  A  lion  attempted  to  attack  the  herds  committed  to 
his  care.  He  killed  it  at  the  very  moment  that  his  father 
Shedad,  enraged  against  him,  had  come,  accompanied  by  his 
brother,  to  do  him  ill.  But  a  mingled  feeling  of  admiration 
and  fear  held  their  hands,  and  in  the  evening,  when  Antar  re- 
turned from  the  pastures,  his  father  and  his  uncle  made  him 
seat  himself  at  dinner  with  them,  while  the  rest  of  the  attend- 
ants stood  behind  them. 

Meanwhile  King  Zoheir  was  called  upon  a  warlike  expedi- 
tion against  the  tribe  of  Temin.  All  his  warriors  followed 
him ;  the  women  alone  remained  behind.  Shedad  entrusted 
them  to  the  protection  of  Antar,  who  pledged  his  life  for  their 


lo  THE   ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

safety.  During  the  absence  of  the  warriors,  Semiah,  the  law- 
ful wife  of  Shedad,  conceived  the  idea  of  giving  an  entertain- 
ment on  the  bank  of  the  lake  Zatoulizard.  Ibla  attended  it 
with  her  mother,  and  Antar  witnessed  all  the  amusements  in 
which  his  beloved  took  part.  His  passion  for  her  became  in- 
tensified. He  was  once  tempted  to  violate  the  modesty  of  love 
by  the  violence  of  desire,  but,  at  that  moment,  he  saw  a  great 
cloud  of  dust  rise  in  the  distance ;  the  shouts  of  war  were  heard  ; 
and  suddenly  the  warriors  of  the  tribe  of  Cathan  appeared  on 
the  scene,  and,  descending  on  the  pleasure-seekers,  carried  off 
the  women,  including  Ibla.  Antar,  being  unarmed,  ran  after 
one  of  the  horsemen,  seized  him,  strangled  and  threw  him  to 
the  ground.  Then  he  put  on  the  armor  of  the  vanquished  foe, 
attacked  and  put  to  flight  the  tribe  of  Cathan,  rescued  the 
women,  and  obtained  a  booty  of  twenty-five  horses.  From 
that  moment  Semiah,  the  wife  of  Shedad,  who  hitherto  had  a 
pronounced  aversion  to  Antar,  conceived  a  sincere  affection 
for  him. 

King  Zoheir,  meantime,  had  returned  victorious  from  his 
expedition.  Shedad  returned  at  the  same  moment,  and  went 
to  visit  his  herds.  Seeing  Antar  surrounded  by  horses  which 
he  did  not  know,  and  mounted  upon  a  fine  black  courser,  he 
asked,  "  Where  did  these  animals,  and  particularly  this  su- 
perb horse,  come  from?"  Then  Antar,  not  willing  to  betray 
the  imprudence  of  Semiah,  declared  that,  as  the  Cathan- 
ians  had  left  their  horses  behind  them,  he  had  seized  them. 
Shedad  was  indignant,  and  treated  Antar  as  a  robber,  re- 
proached him  for  his  wickedness,  and  after  repeatedly  telHng 
him  how  wrong  it  was  to  rouse  discord  among  the  Arabs,  struck 
him  with  his  whip,  with  such  violence  as  to  draw  blood.  Then 
Semiah,  distressed  by  the  sight  of  this  unjust  treatment,  took 
off  her  veil,  letting  her  hair  fall  over  her  shoulders,  took  Antar 
into  her  arms  and  told  all  that  had  happened  and  how  she  and 
all  the  other  women  of  her  tribe  were  indebted  to  this  hero  for 
their  honor  and  liberty.  Shedad  could  not  restrain  his  tender- 
ness on  learning  the  magnanimity  of  his  son's  silence.  Soon 
afterwards  King  Zoheir,  to  whom  this  incident  had  been  re- 
lated, summoned  Antar  into  his  presence,  and  declared  that  a 
man  who  could  exhibit  such  courage  and  generosity  was 
bound  to  become  preeminent  among  his  companions.  All  the 
chieftains  who  surrounded  the  king  congratulated  Antar,  and 


THE  EARLY  FORTUNES  OF  ANTAR       n 

one  of  his  friends,  in  order  to  give  the  court  a  complete  idea  of 
this  young  man's  remarkable  gifts,  asked  him  to  recite  some  of 
his  verses. 

In  compliance  with  this  request  he  recited  a  poem  in  praise 
of  warriors  and  war,  and  the  king  and  all  the  court  manifested 
their  delight.  Zoheir  bade  Antar  approach,  gave  him  a  robe 
of  honor,  and  thanked  him.  That  evening  Antar  departed 
with  his  father  Shedad,  his  heart  full  of  joy  over  the  honors 
which  had  been  lavished  on  him,  and  his  love  for  Ibla  still 
more  heightened. 

In  spite  of  the  indisputable  virtues  of  Antar,  in  spite  of  the 
great  services  he  had  rendered  the  Absians,  the  chieftains  of 
this  tribe  still  regarded  him  as  merely  a  common  slave  and  ten- 
der of  cattle.  The  beginning  of  his  rise  to  favor  excited  a  feel- 
ing of  keen  hatred,  and  caused  many  plots  to  be  laid  against  him. 
A  series  of  intrigues  was  entered  upon,  the  aim  of  which  was 
the  death  of  the  hero.  But  each  attack  upon  his  reputation 
and  his  life  redounded  to  his  benefit,  and  furnished  him  with  an 
opportunity  of  putting  his  enemies  to  silence  and  defeat.  For 
by  his  generosity  and  magnanimity,  even  his  envious  foes  felt 
themselves  under  obligation  to  him.  On  each  of  his  triumphs 
the  mutual  love  between  himself  and  Ibla  went  on  increasing. 

After  the  performance  of  many  feats  as  a  horseman,  Antar 
came  into  possession  of  a  famous  horse  named  Abjer,  and  a 
sword  of  marvellous  temper,  Djamy — and  every  time  he  ap- 
peared on  the  field  of  combat,  as  well  as  when  he  returned  vic- 
torious from  the  fight,  he  made  a  poetic  address,  finishing  with 
the  words,  "  I  am  the  lover  of  Ibla."  At  the  conclusion  of  a 
war  in  which  he  had  performed  prodigies  of  valor.  King  Zoheir 
gave  him  the  surname  of  Alboufauris,  which  means,  "  The 
Father  of  Horsemen." 

The  greater  grew  his  name,  the  more  highly  he  was  honored 
by  King  Zoheir,  so  much  the  more  did  the  hatred  of  the  chief- 
tains and  the  love  of  Ibla  towards  him  increase.  But  it  came 
to  pass  that  Ibla  was  asked  in  marriage  by  Amarah,  a  stupid 
youth,  puffed  up  by  his  wealth  and  lineage.  Antar,  on  hearing 
the  news,  was  transported  with  rage,  and  attacked  his  young 
rival  with  such  violence  that  all  the  Arabian  chiefs  begged  of 
Zoheir  to  punish  the  aggressor.  The  king  left  to  Shedad,  An- 
tar's  father,  the  pronouncing  of  sentence.  Shedad  had,  like 
the  others,  viewed  the  rise  of  Antar,  the  black  slave,  to  favor, 


12  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

with  jealous  eye,  and  sent  him  back  to  the  pastures  to  keep 
the  herds. 

It  was  at  this  point  that  the  greatness  of  Antar's  character 
appeared  in  its  full  dimensions.  The  hero  submitted  with  res- 
ignation to  the  orders  of  his  father,  "  to  whom,"  he  said,  "  he 
owed  obedience  as  to  his  master,  since  he  was  his  slave  " ; 
and  he  swore  to  him,  in  the  presence  of  witnesses,  not  to  mount 
horse,  nor  engage  in  battle,  without  his  permission.  Tears 
flowed  from  his  eyes,  and  before  departing  for  the  pastures  he 
went  to  see  his  mother  Zebiba,  and  to  talk  with  her  concerning 
Ibla.  "  Ibla  ?  "  said  his  mother — "  but  a  moment  ago  she  was 
here  beside  me,  and  said  to  me,  '  Comfort  the  heart  of  Antar, 
and  tell  him  from  me,  that  even  should  my  father  torture  me  to 
death  in  trying  to  change  my  mind,  I  would  not  desire  nor  ask 
for  other  husband  than  Antar.'  " 

These  words  of  Ibla  filled  with  rapture  the  heart  of  Antar,  as 
he  started  for  the  pastures  in  company  with  his  brothers, 
Djaris  and  Shidoub. 

At  this  time  the  tribe  of  Abs,  which  Zoheir  ruled  over,  was 
at  war  with  that  of  Tex,  on  account  of  the  carrying  off  of 
Anima,  daughter  of  the  chief  of  the  Tex,  a  man  known  as  "  The 
Drinker  of  Blood."  Animated  by  the  desire  to  take  vengeance 
and  recover  his  daughter,  this  chief  and  his  army  fell  upon  the 
Absians  Hke  a  thunderbolt.  The  Absians  were  defeated,  and 
their  women,  among  whom  was  Ibla,  taken  prisoners.  All 
pride  was  then,  in  this  time  of  need,  laid  aside,  and  to  their 
assistance  Antar  was  summoned.  But  before  acting  Antar  laid 
down  his  conditions,  and  stipulated  that,  in  case  he  succeeded 
in  subduing  the  foe  and  recovering  the  women,  Ibla  should  be 
given  him  in  marriage.  Malek,  the  father  of  Ibla,  and  Shedad, 
the  father  of  Antar,  assented,  and  bound  themselves  by  an 
oath  to  fulfil  these  conditions  and  to  reinstate  Antar  in  all  the 
honors  and  dignities  belonging  to  him. 

Antar  was  victorious.  He  rescued  Ibla,  and  received  grate- 
ful expressions  of  gratitude  from  his  beloved,  while  King  Zo- 
heir gave  him  the  kiss  of  royal  honor.  Everything  seemed  to 
unite  in  fulfilHng  the  hopes  of  Antar.  But  at  the  very  moment 
in  which  he  was  honored  by  royal  felicitations,  several  chief- 
tains, indignant  at  the  elevation  of  a  black  slave,  employed 
every  means  to  prevent  his  marriage  with  Ibla,  and  to  force 
him  to  undertake  enterprises  which  would  prove  fatal  to  him. 


THE  EARLY  FORTUNES  OF  ANTAR       13 

Shedad,  his  father,  and  Malek,  the  father  of  Ibla,  connived  at 
these  plots.  They  demanded  of  Antar,  who  was  of  that  trust- 
ing disposition  which  belongs  to  generous  and  brave  men, 
that  he  give  as  a  wedding  present  to  his  bride,  a  thousand 
camels,  of  a  particular  breed,  not  to  be  found  excepting  on  the 
borders  of  the  Persian  kingdom.  The  hero  made  no  remark 
on  hearing  this  treacherous  demand,  and  was  so  eager  to  please 
Ibla,  that  he  took  no  count  of  the  difficulties  to  be  undergone. 
He  set  off  and  soon  found  himself  engaged  in  conflict  with  a 
large  army  of  Persians,  who  made  him  prisoner,  and  led  him 
off  with  the  view  of  bringing  him  into  the  presence  of  their 
king.  There  he  was  taken,  bound  and  on  horseback,  when  at 
that  instant,  the  news  came  that  a  fierce  lion  of  extraordinary 
size  was  ravaging  the  country.  It  was  alleged  that  even  armed 
men  fled  before  it.  Antar,  who  was  on  the  point  of  being  put 
to  death,  asked  the  King  of  Persia  to  cause  his  arms  at  least  to 
be  unbound,  and  to  let  him  confront  the  lion.  His  prayer  was 
granted ;  he  rushed  upon  the  savage  creature,  and  transfixed 
it  with  his  lance.  Nor  was  this  the  only  service  he  did  the 
King  of  Persia,  who  in  gratitude  for  many  others,  not  only 
gave  Antar  the  thousand  camels  he  was  looking  for,  but  loaded 
him  with  treasures,  with  which  to  do  homage  to  Ibla. 

On  his  return  Antar  was  received  with  a  rapturous  welcome 
by  the  Absian  tribe.  But  the  hostile  and  the  envious  con- 
tinued to  plot  against  him.  They  still  aimed  at  preventing  his 
marriage,  and  compassing  his  death.  Amarah,  who  aspired  to 
Ibla's  hand,  backed  by  all  the  chieftains  hostile  to  Antar,  re- 
newed his  suit  and  pretensions.  Ibla  was  carried  off  from  her 
house  among  the  Absians,  and  taken  to  another  tribe.  Then 
Antar  set  out  in  search  of  her,  and  at  length  rescued  her ;  their 
mutual  love  was  intensified  by  this  reunion.  By  a  series  of 
wiles  and  intrigues  skilfully  conducted,  the  chiefs  who  sur- 
rounded Ibla  persuaded  her  to  demand  still  further  dowry 
from  Antar.  She  spoke  of  Khaled  and  "Djaida,  whose  history 
has  already  been  related ;  she  said,  in  presence  of  Antar,  that 
that  young  warrior  girl  would  not  consent  to  marry  Khaled, 
saving  on  the  condition  that  her  camel's  bridle  be  held  by  the 
daughter  of  Moawich.  This  word  was  sufficient  for  Antar, 
and  he  promised  to  Ibla  that  Djaida  should  hold  the  bridle  of 
her  camel  on  her  wedding  day ;  and  more  than  that,  the  head 
of  Khaled  should  be  slung  round  the  neck  of  the  warrior  girl. 


u 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 


Thus  the  hero,  constantly  loving  and  beloved  by  Ibla,  inces- 
santly deceived  by  the  cunningly  devised  obstacles  raised  by 
his  foes,  sustained  his  reputation  for  greatness  of  character 
and  strength  of  arm,  submitted  with  resignation  to  the  severest 
tests,  and  passed  victoriously  through  them  all.  After  the 
death  of  King  Zoheir,  v^hom  he  avenged,  he  undertook  to  assist 
Cais,  Zoheir's  son,  in  all  his  enterprises,  and  after  a  long  series 
of  adventures  which  tired  the  patience,  love,  and  courage  of 
Antar,  this  hero,  recognized  as  chief  among  Arabian  chieftains, 
obtained  the  great  reward  of  his  long  struggles  and  mighty 
toils,  by  marriage  to  his  well-loved  Ibla. 


KHALED    AND    DJAIDA 

MOHARIB  and  Zahir  were  brothers,  of  the  same  father 
and  mother;  the  Arabs  call  them  "  brothers  germane." 
Both  were  renowned  for  courage  and  daring.  But 
Moharib  was  chief  of  the  tribe,  and  Zahir,  being  subject  to  his 
authority,  was  no  more  than  his  minister,  giving  him  counsel 
and  advice.  Now  it  happened  that  a  violent  dispute  arose  be- 
tween them.  Zahir  subsequently  retired  to  his  tent,  in  pro- 
found sorrow,  and  not  knowing  what  course  to  take.  "  What 
is  the  matter  with  you  ?  "  asked  his  wife,  "  Why  are  you  so 
troubled?  What  has  happened  to  you?  Has  any  one  dis- 
pleased or  insulted  you — the  greatest  of  Arab  chiefs  ? " 
"  What  am  I  to  do?  "  replied  Zahir;  "  the  man  who  has  in- 
jured me  is  one  whom  I  cannot  lay  hands  on,  or  do  him  wrong ; 
he  is  my  companion  in  the  bosom  of  my  family,  my  brother  in 
the  world.  Ah,  if  it  had  been  any  one  but  he,  I  would  have 
shown  him  what  sort  of  a  man  he  was  at  odds  with,  and  have 
made  an  example  of  him  before  all  the  chiefs  of  our  tribes !  " 
"  Leave  him ;  let  him  enjoy  his  possessions  alone,"  cried  his 
wife,  and,  in  order  to  persuade  her  husband  to  take  this  course, 
she  recited  verses  from  a  poet  of  the  time,  which  dissuade  a 
man  from  tolerating  an  insult  even  at  the  hands  of  his  parents. 
Zahir  assented  to  the  advice  of  his  wife.  He  made  all  prep- 
arations for  departure,  struck  his  tents,  loaded  his  camels,  and 
started  ofif  on  the  road  towards  the  camp  of  the  Saad  tribe, 
with  whom  he  was  in  alliance.  Yet  in  spite  of  all,  he  felt  a 
keen  pang  at  separating  himself  from  his  brother — and  thus 
he  spoke :  "  On  starting  on  a  journey  which  removes  me  from 
you,  I  shall  be  a  thousand  years  on  the  way,  and  each  year  will 

carry  me  a  thousand  leagues Even  though  the 

favors  you  heap  upon  me  be  worth  a  thousand  Egypts,  and 
each  of  these  Egj^pts  had  a  thousand  Niles,  all  those  favors 
would  be  despised.  I  shall  be  contented  with  little  so  long  as 
I  am  far  from  you.    Away  from  you,  I  shall  recite  this  distich, 


i6  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

which  is  worth  more  than  a  necklace  of  fine  pearls :  *  When  a 
man  is  wronged  on  the  soil  of  his  tribe,  there  is  nothing  left 
him  but  to  leave  it ;  you,  who  have  so  wickedly  injured  me,  be- 
fore long  shall  feel  the  power  of  the  kindly  divinity,  for  he  is 
your  judge  and  mine,  he  is  unchangeable  and  eternal." 

Zahir  continued  his  journey,  until  he  reached  the  Saad  tribe, 
when  he  dismounted  from  his  horse.  He  was  cordially  re- 
ceived and  was  pressed  to  take  up  his  abode  with  them.  His 
wife  was  at  that  time  soon  to  become  a  mother,  and  he  said  to 
her :  "  If  a  son  is  given  to  us,  he  will  be  right  welcome ;  but  if 
it  be  a  daughter,  conceal  her  sex  and  let  people  think  we  have 
a  male  child,  so  that  my  brother  may  have  no  reason  to  crow 
over  us."  When  her  time  came  Zahir's  wife  brought  into  the 
world  a  daughter.  They  agreed  that  her  name  should  be 
actually  Djaida,  but  that  publicly  she  should  be  known  as 
Djonder,  that  people  might  take  her  for  a  boy.  In  order  to 
promote  this  belief,  they  kept  up  feasting  and  entertainment 
early  and  late  for  many  days. 

About  the  same  time  Moharib,  the  other  brother,  had  a  son 
born  to  him,  whom  he  named  Khaled  (The  Eternal).  He 
chose  this  name  in  gratitude  to  God,  because,  since  his 
brother's  departure,  his  affairs  had  prospered  well. 

The  two  children  eventually  reached  full  age,  and  their  re- 
nown was  widespread  among  the  Arabs.  Zahir  had  taught 
his  daughter  to  ride  on  horseback,  and  had  trained  her  in  all 
the  accomplishments  fitting  to  a  warrior  bold  and  daring.  He 
accustomed  her  to  the  severest  toils,  and  the  most  perilous  en- 
terprises. When  he  went  to  war,  he  put  her  among  the  other 
Arabs  of  the  tribe,  and  in  the  midst  of  these  horsemen  she  soon 
took  her  rank  as  one  of  the  most  valiant  of  them.  Thus  it  came 
to  pass  that  she  eclipsed  all  her  comrades,  and  would  even  at- 
tack the  Hons  in  their  dens.  At  last  her  name  became  an 
object  of  terror;  when  she  had  overcome  a  champion  she 
never  failed  to  cry  out :  "  I  am  Djonder,  son  of  Zahir,  horse- 
man of  the  tribes." 

Her  cousin  Khaled,  on  the  other  hand,  distinguished  himself 
equally  by  his  brilliant  courage.  His  father  Moharib,  a  wise 
and  prudent  chief,  had  built  houses  of  entertainment  for  stran- 
gers ;  all  horsemen  found  a  welcome  there.  Khaled  had  been 
brought  up  in  the  midst  of  warriors.  In  this  school  his  spirit 
had  been  formed,  here  he  had  learned  to  ride,  and  at  last  had 


KHALED   AND   DJAIDA  17 

become  an  intrepid  warrior,  and  a  redoubtable  hero.  It  was 
soon  perceived  by  the  rest  of  the  army  that  his  spirit  and  valor 
were  unconquerable. 

Eventually  he  heard  tell  of  his  cousin  Djonder,  and  his  de- 
sire to  see  and  know  him  and  to  witness  his  skill  in  arms  became 
extreme.  But  he  could  not  satisfy  this  desire  because  of  the 
dislike  which  his  father  showed  for  his  cousin,  the  son  of  his 
uncle.  This  curiosity  of  Khaled  continued  unsatisfied  until 
the  death  of  his  father  Moharib,  which  put  him  in  possession  of 
rank,  wealth,  and  lands.  He  followed  the  example  of  his  father 
in  entertaining  strangers,  protecting  the  weak  and  unfortu- 
nate, and  giving  raiment  to  the  naked.  He  continued  also  to 
scour  the  plains  on  horseback  with  his  warriors,  and  in  this 
way  waxed  greater  in  bodily  strength  and  courage.  After 
some  time,  gathering  together  a  number  of  rich  gifts,  he 
started,  in  company  with  his  mother,  to  visit  his  uncle.  He 
did  not  draw  rein  until  he  reached  the  dwelling  of  Zahir,  who 
was  delighted  to  see  him,  and  made  magnificent  preparations 
for  his  entertainment;  for  the  uncle  had  heard  tell  on  many 
occasions  of  his  nephew's  worth  and  valor.  Khaled  also  vis- 
ited his  cousin.  He  saluted  her,  pressed  her  to  his  bosom,  and 
kissed  her  forehead,  thinking  she  was  a  young  man.  He  felt 
the  greatest  pleasure  in  her  company,  and  remained  ten  days 
with  his  uncle,  regularly  taking  part  in  the  jousts  and  contests 
of  the  horsemen  and  warriors.  As  for  his  cousin,  the  moment 
she  had  seen  how  handsome  and  valiant  Khaled  was,  she  had 
fallen  violently  in  love  with  him.  Her  sleep  left  her  ;  she  could 
not  eat ;  and  her  love  grew  to  such  a  pitch  that  feeling  her 
heart  completely  lost  to  him,  she  spoke  to  her  mother  and  said: 
"  O  mother,  should  my  cousin  leave  without  taking  me  in  his 
company,  I  shall  die  of  grief  at  his  absence."  Then  her  mother 
was  touched  with  pity  for  her,  and  uttered  no  reproaches,  feel- 
ing that  they  would  be  in  vain.  "  Djaida,"  she  said,  "  conceal 
your  feelings,  and  restrain  yourself  from  grief.  You  have 
done  nothing  improper,  for  your  cousin  is  the  man  of  your 
choice,  and  is  of  your  own  blood.  Like  him,  you  are  fair  and 
attractive ;  like  him,  brave  and  skilful  in  horsemanship.  To- 
morrow morning,  when  his  mother  approaches  us,  I  will  reveal 
to  her  the  whole  matter ;  we  will  soon  afterwards  give  you  to 
him  in  marriage,  and  finally  we  will  all  return  to  our  own 
country." 

Vol.  IVa.— a 


l8  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

The  wife  of  Zahir  waited  patiently  until  the  following  morn- 
ing, when  the  mother  of  Khaled  arrived.  She  then  presented 
her  daughter,  whose  head  she  uncovered,  so  as  to  allow  the 
hair  to  fall  to  her  shoulders.  At  the  sight  of  such  charms  the 
mother  of  Khaled  was  beyond  measure  astonished,  and  ex- 
claimed: "  What!  is  not  this  your  son  Djonder?  "  "  No!  it 
is  Djaida — she  the  moon  of  beauty,  at  last  has  risen."  Then 
she  told  her  all  that  had  passed  between  herself  and  her  hus- 
band, and  how  and  why  they  had  concealed  the  sex  of  their 
child.  "  Dear  kinswoman,"  replied  the  mother  of  Khaled,  still 
quite  surprised,  "  among  all  the  daughters  of  Arabia  who  have 
been  celebrated  for  their  beauty  I  have  never  seen  one  more 
lovely  than  this  one.  What  is  her  name  ?  "  "I  have  already 
told  you  that  it  is  Djaida,  and  my  especial  purpose  in  telling 
you  the  secret  is  to  offer  you  all  these  charms,  for  I  ardently 
desire  to  marry  my  daughter  to  your  son,  so  that  we  may  all  be 
able  to  return  to  our  own  land."  The  mother  of  Khaled  at 
once  assented  to  this  proposal,  and  said :  "  The  possession  of 
Djaida  will  doubtless  render  my  son  very  happy."  She  at 
once  rose  and  went  out  to  look  for  Khaled,  and  communicated 
to  him  all  she  had  seen  and  learned,  not  failing  to  extol  espe- 
cially the  charms  of  Djaida.  "  By  the  faith  of  an  Arab,"  said 
she,  "  never,  my  son,  have  I  seen  in  the  desert,  or  in  any  city, 
a  girl  such  as  your  cousin ;  I  do  not  except  the  most  beautiful. 
Nothing  is  so  perfect  as  she  is,  nothing  more  lovely  and  at- 
tractive. Make  haste,  my  son,  to  see  your  uncle  and  ask  him 
for  his  daughter  in  marriage.  You  will  be  happy  indeed  if  he 
grants  your  prayer:  Go,  my  son,  and  do  not  waste  time  in 
winning  her." 

When  Khaled  had  heard  these  words,  he  cast  his  eyes  to  the 
ground,  and  remained  for  some  time-  thoughtful  and  gloomy. 
Then  he  replied :  "  My  mother,  I  cannot  remain  here  any 
longer.  I  must  return  home  amid  my  horsemen  and  troops. 
I  have  no  intention  of  saying  anything  more  to  my  cousin ;  I 
am  convinced  that  she  is  a  person  whose  temper  and  ideas  of 
life  are  uncertain ;  her  character  and  manner  of  speech  are 
utterly  destitute  of  stability  and  propriety.  I  have  always 
been  accustomed  to  live  amid  warriors,  on  whom  I  spend  my 
wealth,  and  with  whom  I  win  a  soldier's  renown.  As  for  my 
cousin's  love  for  me,  it  is  the  weakness  of  a  woman,  of  a  young 
girl."     He  then  donned  his  armor,  mounted  his  horse,  bade 


KHALED    AND   DJAIDA  19 

his  uncle  farewell,  and  announced  his  intention  of  leaving  at 
once.  "What  means  this  haste?"  cried  Zahir.  "I  can  re- 
main here  no  longer,"  answered  Khaled,  and,  putting  his  horse 
to  a  gallop,  he  flung  himself  into  the  depths  of  the  wilderness. 
His  mother,  after  relating  to  Djaida  the  conversation  she  held 
with  her  son,  mounted  a  camel  and  made  her  way  towards  her 
own  country. 

The  soul  of  Djaida  felt  keenly  this  indignity.  She  brooded 
over  it — sleepless  and  without  appetite.  Some  days  after- 
wards, as  her  father  was  preparing  with  his  horsemen  to  make 
a  foray  against  his  foes,  his  glance  fell  on  Djaida,  and  seeing 
how  altered  she  was  in  face,  and  dejected  in  spirit,  he  refrained 
from  saying  an}thing,  thinking  and  hoping  that  she  would 
surely  become  herself  again  after  a  short  time. 

Scarcely  was  Zahir  out  of  sight  of  his  tents,  when  Djaida, 
who  felt  herself  like  to  die,  and  whose  frame  of  mind  was  quite 
unsupportable,  said  to  her  mother :  "  Mother,  I  feel  that  I  am 
dying,  and  that  this  miserable  Khaled  is  still  in  the  vigor  of 
life.  I  should  like,  if  God  gives  me  the  power,  to  make  him 
taste  the  fury  of  death,  the  bitterness  of  its  pang  and  torture." 
So  saying,  she  rose  like  a  lioness,  put  on  her  armor,  and 
mounted  her  horse,  telling  her  mother  she  was  going  on  a 
hunting  expedition.  Swiftly,  and  without  stopping,  she  trav- 
ersed rocks  and  mountains,  her  excitement  increasing  as  she 
approached  the  dwelling-place  of  her  cousin.  As  she  was  dis- 
guised, she  entered,  unrecognized,  into  the  tent  where  stran- 
gers were  received.  Her  visor  was,  however,  lowered,  like 
that  of  a  horseman  of  Hijaz.  Slaves  and  servants  received  her, 
offered  her  hospitality,  comporting  themselves  towards  her  as 
to  one  of  the  guests,  and  the  most  noble  personages  of  the  land. 
That  night  Djaida  took  rest ;  but  the  following  day  she  joined 
the  military  exercises,  challenged  many  cavaliers,  and  ex- 
hibited so  much  address  and  bravery,  that  she  produced  great 
astonishment  among  the  spectators.  Long  before  noon  the 
horsemen  of  her  cousin  were  compelled  to  acknowledge  her 
superiority  over  themselves.  Khaled  wished  to  witness  her 
prowess,  and,  surprised  at  the  sight  of  so  much  skill,  he  offered 
to  match  himself  with  her.  Djaida  entered  the  contest  with 
him,  and  then  both  of  them  joining  in  combat  tried,  one  after 
another,  all  the  methods  of  attack  and  defence,  until  the  shad- 
ows of  night  came  on.     When  they  separated  both  were  un- 


20  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

hurt,  and  none  could  say  who  was  the  victor.  Thus  Djaida, 
while  rousing  the  admiration  of  the  spectators,  saw  the  annoy- 
ance they  felt  on  finding  their  chief  equalled  in  fight  by  so  skil- 
ful an  opponent.  Khaled  ordered  his  antagonist  to  be  treated 
with  all  the  care  and  honor  imaginable,  then  retired  to  his  tent, 
his  mind  filled  with  thoughts  of  his  conflict.  Djaida  remained 
three  days  at  her  cousin's  habitation.  Every  morning  she 
presented  herself  on  the  ground  of  combat,  and  remained 
under  arms  until  night.  She  enjoyed  it  greatly,  still  keeping 
her  incognito,  whilst  Khaled,  on  the  other  hand,  made  no  en- 
quiries, and  asked  no  questions  of  her,  as  to  who  she  was  and 
to  what  tribe  she  might  belong. 

On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day,  while  Khaled,  according 
to  his  custom,  rode  over  the  plain,  and  passed  close  to  the 
tents  reserved  for  strangers,  he  saw  Djaida  mounting  her 
horse.  He  saluted  her,  and  she  returned  his  salute.  "  Noble 
Arab,"  said  Khaled,  "  I  should  like  to  ask  you  one  question. 
Up  to  this  moment  I  have  failed  in  courtesy  towards  you,  but, 
I  now  beg  of  you,  in  the  name  of  that  God  who  has  endowed 
you  with  such  great  dexterity  in  arms,  tell  me,  who  are  you, 
and  to  what  noble  princes  are  you  allied?  For  I  have  never 
met  your  equal  among  brave  cavaliers.  Answer  me,  I  beseech 
you,  for  I  am  dying  to  learn."  Djaida  smiled,  and  raising  her 
visor,  replied :  "  Khaled,  I  am  a  woman,  and  not  a  warrior.  I 
am  your  cousin  Djaida,  who  offered  herself  to  you,  and  wished 
to  give  herself  to  you ;  but  you  refused  her — from  the  pride 
you  felt  in  your  passion  for  arms."  As  she  spoke  she  turned 
her  horse  suddenly,  stuck  spurs  into  him,  and  dashed  oflf  at 
full  gallop  towards  her  own  country. 

Khaled  filled  with  confusion  withdrew  to  his  tent,  not  know- 
ing what  to  do,  nor  what  would  be  the  end  of  the  passionate 
love  which  he  suddenly  felt  rise  within  him.  He  was  seized 
with  disgust  for  all  these  warlike  habits  and  tastes,  which  had 
reduced  him  to  the  melancholy  plight  in  which  he  found  him- 
self. His  distaste  for  women  was  changed  into  love.  He  sent 
for  his  mother  and  related  to  her  all  that  had  occurred.  "  My 
son,"  she  said,  "  all  these  circumstances  should  render  Djaida 
still  dearer  to  you.  Wait  patiently  a  little,  until  I  have  been 
able  to  go  and  ask  her  of  her  mother."  She  straightway 
mounted  her  camel,  and  started  through  the  desert  on  the 
tracks  of  Djaida,  who  immediately  on  her  arrival  home  had 


KHALED  AND   DJAIDA  it 

told  her  mother  all  that  had  happened.  As  soon  as  the  mother 
of  Khaled  had  arrived,  she  flung  herself  into  the  arms  of  her 
kinswoman  and  demanded  Djaida  in  marriage  for  her  son,  for 
Zahir  had  not  yet  returned  from  his  foray.  When  Djaida 
heard  from  her  mother  the  request  of  Khaled,  she  said,  "  This 
shall  never  be,  though  I  be  forced  to  drink  the  cup  of  death. 
That  which  occurred  at  his  tents  was  brought  about  by  me  to 
quench  the  fire  of  my  grief  and  unhappiness,  and  soothe  the 
anguish  of  my  heart." 

At  these  words  the  mother  of  Khaled,  defeated  of  her  object, 
went  back  to  her  son,  who  was  tortured  by  the  most  cruel  anx- 
iety. He  rose  suddenly  to  his  feet,  for  his  love  had  reached 
the  point  of  desperation,  and  asked  with  inquietude  what  were 
the  feelings  of  his  cousin.  When  he  learned  the  answer  of 
Djaida  his  distress  became  overwhelming,  for  her  refusal  only 
increased  his  passion.  "  What  is  to  be  done,  my  mother,"  he 
exclaimed.  "  I  see  no  way  of  escaping  from  this  embarrass- 
ment," she  replied,  "  excepting  you  assemble  all  your  horse- 
men from  among  the  Arab  sheiks,  and  from  among  those  with 
whom  you  are  on  friendly  terms.  Wait  until  your  uncle  re- 
turns from  the  campaign,  and  then,  surrounded  by  your  fol- 
lowers, go  to  him,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  assembled  war- 
riors, demand  of  him  his  daughter  in  marriage.  If  he  deny 
that  he  has  a  daughter,  tell  him  all  that  has  happened,  and  urge 
him  until  he  gives  way  to  your  demand."  This  advice,  and  the 
plan  proposed  moderated  the  grief  of  Khaled.  As  soon  as  he 
learned  that  his  uncle  had  returned  home,  he  assembled  all  the 
chiefs  of  his  family  and  told  his  story  to  them.  All  of  them 
were  very  much  astonished,  and  Madi  Kereb,  one  of  the 
Khaled's  bravest  companions,  could  not  help  saying:  "This 
is  a  strange  afifair ;  we  have  always  heard  say  that  your  uncle 
had  a  son  named  Djonder,  but  now  the  truth  is  known.  You 
are  certainly  the  man  who  has  most  right  to  the  daughter  of 
your  uncle.  It  is  therefore  our  best  course  to  present  our- 
selves in  a  body  and  prostrate  ourselves  before  him,  asking  him 
to  return  to  his  family  and  not  to  give  his  daughter  to  a  stran- 
ger." Khaled,  without  hearing  any  more,  took  with  him  a 
hundred  of  his  bravest  horsemen,  being  those  who  had  been 
brought  up  with  Moharib  and  Zahir  from  their  childhood,  and, 
having  provided  themselves  with  presents  even  more  costly 
than  those  they  had  taken  before,  they  started  off,  and  marched 


22  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

on  until  they  came  to  the  tribe  of  Saad.  Khaled  began  by 
compHmenting  his  uncle  on  his  happy  return  from  war,  but  no 
one  could  be  more  astonished  than  Zahir  at  this  second  visit, 
especially  when  he  saw  his  nephew  accompanied  by  all  the 
chieftains  of  his  family.  It  never  for  a  moment  occurred  to 
him  that  his  daughter  Djaida  had  anything  to  do  with  Khaled's 
return,  but  thought  that  his  nephew  merely  wished  to  persuade 
him  to  return  to  his  native  territory.  He  offered  them  every 
hospitality,  provided  them  with  tents  and  entertained  them 
magnificently.  He  ordered  camels  and  sheep  to  be  killed,  and 
gave  a  banquet ;  he  furnished  his  guests  with  all  things  needful 
and  proper  for  three  days.  On  the  fourth  day  Khaled  arose, 
and  after  thanking  his  uncle  for  all  his  attentions,  asked  him 
for  his  daughter  in  marriage,  and  begged  him  to  return  to  his 
own  land.  Zahir  denied  that  he  had  any  child  but  his  son 
Djonder,  but  Khaled  told  him  all  that  he  had  learned,  and  all 
that  had  passed  between  himself  and  Djaida.  At  these  words 
Zahir  was  overcome  with  shame  and  turned  his  eyes  to  the 
ground.  He  remained  for  some  moments  plunged  in  thought, 
and  after  reflecting  that  the  afifair  must  needs  proceed  from  bad 
to  worse,  he  addressed  those  present  in  the  following  words : 
"  Kinsmen,  I  will  no  longer  delay  acknowledging  this  secret ; 
therefore  to  end  the  matter,  she  shall  be  married  to  her  cousin 
as  soon  as  possible,  for,  of  all  the  men  I  know,  he  is  most 
worthy  of  her."  He  offered  his  hand  to  Khaled,  who  immedi- 
ately clasped  it  in  presence  of  the  chiefs  who  were  witnesses  to 
the  contract.  The  dowry  was  fixed  at  five  hundred  brown 
black-eyed  camels,  and  a  thousand  camels  loaded  with  the 
choicest  products  of  Yemen.  The  tribe  of  Saad,  in  the  midst 
of  which  Zahir  had  lived,  were  excluded  from  all  part  in  this 
incident. 

But  when  Zahir  had  asked  his  daughter's  consent  to  this 
arrangement,  Djaida  was  overwhelmed  with  confusion  at  the 
course  her  father  had  taken.  Since  he  let  his  daughter  clearly 
understand  that  he  did  not  wish  her  to  remain  unmarried,  she 
at  last  replied :  "  My  father,  if  my  cousin  desires  to  have  me  in 
marriage,  I  shall  not  enter  into  his  tent  until  he  undertakes  to 
slaughter  at  my  wedding  a  thousand  camels,  out  of  those  which 
belong  to  Gheshem,  son  of  Malik,  surnamed  "  The  Brandisher 
of  Spears."  Kahled  agreed  to  this  condition ;  but  the  sheiks 
and  the  warriors  did  not  leave  Zahir  before  he  had  collected  all 


KHALED   AND   DJAIDA  43 

his  possessions  for  transportation  to  his  own  country.  No 
sooner  were  these  preparations  completed  than  Khaled 
marched  forth  at  the  head  of  a  thousand  horsemen,  with  whose 
assistance  he  subdued  the  tribe  of  Aamir.  Having  thrice 
wounded  "The  Brandisher  of  Spears,"  and  slain  a  great  num- 
ber of  his  champions,  he  carried  of?  their  goods  and  brought 
back  from  their  country  even  a  richer  spoil  than  Djaida  had  de- 
manded. Loaded  with  booty  he  returned,  and  was  intoxicated 
with  success.  But  when  he  asked  that  a  day  should  be  fixed 
for  the  wedding,  Djaida  begged  him  to  approach,  and  said  to 
him :  "  If  you  desire  that  I  become  your  wife,  fulfil  first  of  all 
my  wishes,  and  keep  the  engagement  I  make  with  you.  This 
is  my  demand :  I  wish  that  on  the  day  of  my  marriage,  some 
nobleman's  daughter,  a  free-born  w^oman,  hold  the  bridle  of  my 
camel;  she  must  be  the  daughter  of  a  prince  of  the  highest 
rank,  so  that  I  may  be  the  most  honored  of  all  the  daughters  of 
Arabia."  Khaled  consented,  and  prepared  to  carry  out  her 
wishes.  That  very  day  he  started  with  his  horsemen,  and 
traversed  plains  and  valleys,  searching  the  land  of  Ymer,  even 
till  he  reached  the  country  of  Hijar  and  the  hills  of  Sand.  In 
this  place  he  attacked  the  tribe-family  of  Moawich,  son  of 
Mizal.  He  burst  upon  them  Hke  a  rain-storm,  and  cutting  a 
way  with  his  sword  through  the  opposing  horsemen,  he  took 
prisoner  Amima,  daughter  of  Moawich,  at  the  very  moment 
when  she  was  betaking  herself  to  flight. 

After  having  accomplished  feats  which  rendered  futile  the 
resistance  of  the  most  experienced  heroes,  after  having  scat- 
tered all  the  tribes  in  flight,  and  carried  off  all  the  wealth  of  all 
the  Arabs  in  that  country,  he  returned  home.  But  he  did  not 
wish  to  come  near  his  tents  until  he  had  first  gathered  in  all 
the  wealth  which  he  had  left  at  different  points  and  places  in 
the  desert. 

The  young  maidens  marched  before  him  sounding  their 
cymbals  and  other  instruments  of  music.  All  the  tribe  re- 
joiced ;  and  when  Khaled  appeared,  he  distributed  clothing  to 
the  widows  and  orphans,  and  invited  his  companions  and 
friends  to  the  feast  he  was  preparing  for  his  wedding.  All  the 
Arabs  of  the  country  came  in  a  crowd  to  the  marriage.  He 
caused  them  to  be  regaled  with  abundance  of  flesh  and  wine. 
But  while  all  the  guests  abandoned  themselves  to  feasting  and 
pleasure,  Khaled,  accompanied  by  ten  slaves,  prepared  to  scour 


24  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

the  wild  and  marshy  places  of  the  land,  in  order  to  attack  hand 
to  hand  in  their  caverns  the  lions  and  lionesses  and  their  cubs, 
and  bear  them  slain  to  the  tents,  in  order  to  provide  meat  for  all 
those  who  attended  the  festival. 

Djaida  had  been  informed  of  this  design.  She  disguised 
herself  in  coat  of  mail,  mounted  her  horse,  and  left  the  tents ; 
as  three  days  of  festivities  still  remained,  she  hastily  followed 
Khaled  into  the  desert,  and  met  him  face  to  face  in  a  cavern. 
She  flung  herself  upon  him  with  the  impetuosity  of  a  wild 
beast,  and  attacked  him  furiously,  crying  aloud,  "  Arab !  dis- 
mount from  your  horse,  take  off  your  coat  of  mail,  and  your 
armor ;  if  you  hesitate  to  do  so,  I  will  run  this  lance  through 
your  heart."  Khaled  was  resolved  at  once  to  resist  her  in  this 
demand.  They  engaged  in  furious  combat.  The  struggle 
lasted  for  more  than  an  hour,  when  the  warrior  saw  in  the  eyes 
of  his  adversary  an  expression  which  alarmed  him.  He  re- 
mounted his  horse,  and  having  wheeled  round  his  steed  from 
the  place  of  combat,  exclaimed :  "  By  the  faith  of  an  Arab,  I 
adjure  you  to  tell  me  what  horseman  of  the  desert  you  are ;  for 
I  feel  that  your  attack  and  the  violence  of  your  blows  are  irre- 
sistible. In  fact,  you  have  prevented  me  from  accomplishing 
that  which  I  had  intended,  and  all  that  I  had  eagerly  desired 
to  do."  At  these  words  Djaida  raised  her  visor,  thus  permit- 
ting him  to  see  her  face.  "  Khaled,"  she  cried,  "  is  it  neces- 
sary for  the  girl  you  love  to  attack  wild  beasts,  in  order  that  the 
daughters  of  Arabia  may  learn  that  this  is  not  the  exclusive 
privilege  of  a  warrior?"  At  this  cutting  rebuke  Khaled  was 
overcome  with  shame.  "  By  the  faith  of  an  Arab,"  he  replied, 
''  no  one  but  you  can  overcome  me ;  but  is  there  anyone  in  this 
country  who  has  challenged  you,  or  are  you  come  hither 
merely  to  prove  to  me  the  extent  of  your  valor?  "  "  By  the 
faith  of  an  Arab,"  replied  Djaida,  "  I  came  into  this  desert 
solely  for  the  purpose  of  helping  you  to  hunt  wild  beasts,  and 
in  order  that  your  warriors  might  not  reproach  you  for  choos- 
ing me  as  your  wife."  At  these  words  Khaled  felt  thrilled  with 
surprise  and  admiration,  that  such  spirit  and  resolution  should 
have  been  exhibited  in  the  conduct  of  Djaida. 

Then  both  of  them  dismounted  from  their  horses  and  en- 
tered into  a  cavern.  There  Khaled  seized  two  ferocious  wild 
beasts,  and  Djaida  attacked  and  carried  off  a  lion  and  two 
lionesses.     After  these  exploits  they  exchanged  congratula- 


KHALED   AND   DJAIDA  25 

tions,  and  Djaida  felt  happy  to  be  with  Khaled.  "  Mean- 
while," she  said,  "  I  shall  not  permit  you  to  leave  our  tents  un- 
til after  our  marriage."  She  immediately  left  him  in  haste  and 
betook  herself  to  her  own  dwelling. 

Khaled  proceeded  to  rejoin  the  slaves  whom  he  had  left  a 
little  way  ofif,  and  ordered  them  to  carry  to  the  tents  the  beasts 
he  had  slain.  Trembling  with  fright  at  the  view  of  what 
Khaled  had  done,  they  extolled  him  with  admiration  above  all 
other  champions  of  the  land. 

The  feasts  meanwhile  went  on,  and  all  who  came  were  wel- 
comed with  magnificence.  The  maidens  sounded  their  cym- 
bals ;  the  slaves  waved  their  swords  in  the  air,  and  the  young 
girls  sang  from  morn  till  evening.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  such 
rejoicings  that  Djaida  and  Khaled  were  married.  Amima,  the 
daughter  of  Moawich,  held  the  reins  of  the  young  bride's 
camel,  and  men  and  women  alike  extolled  the  glory  of  Djaida. 


THE    ABSIANS    AND    FAZAREANS 

KING  CAIS,  chief  of  the  Absians,  distrusting  the  evil  de- 
signs of  Hadifah,  the  chief  of  the  tribe  of  Fazarah, 
had  sent  out  his  slaves  in  every  direction  to  look  after 
Antar.  One  of  these  slaves  on  his  return  said  to  the  king: 
"  As  for  Antar,  I  have  not  even  heard  his  name ;  but  as  I 
passed  by  the  tribe  of  Tenim,  I  slept  one  night  in  the  tents  of  the 
tribe  Byah.  There  I  saw  a  colt  of  remarkable  beauty.  He  be- 
longed to  a  man  named  Jahir,  son  of  Awef.  I  have  never  seen 
a  colt  so  fine  and  swift."  This  recital  made  a  profound  impres- 
sion upon  Cais.  And  in  truth  this  young  animal  was  the  won- 
der of  the  world,  and  never  had  a  handsomer  horse  been  reared 
among  the  Arabs.  He  was  in  all  points  high-bred  and  re- 
nowned for  race  and  lineage,  for  his  sire  was  Ocab  and  his  dam 
Helweh,  and  these  were  horses  regarded  by  the  Arabs  as 
quicker  than  lightning.  All  the  tribes  admired  their  points, 
and  the  tribe  of  Byah  had  become  celebrated  above  all  others, 
because  of  the  mare  and  stallion  which  pertained  to  it. 

As  for  this  fine  colt,  one  day,  when  his  sire  Ocab  had  been 
put  out  on  pasture,  he  was  being  led  by  the  daughter  of  Jahir 
along  the  side  of  a  lake  at  noonday,  and  there  he  saw  the  mare 
Helweh,  who  was  tethered  close  to  the  tent  of  her  master.  He 
immediately  began  to  neigh,  and  slipped  his  halter.  The 
young  girl  in  her  embarrassment  let  him  go,  and  for  modesty 
took  refuge  in  the  tent  of  a  friend.  The  stallion  remained  on 
the  spot  until  the  girl  returned.  She  seized  the  halter  and  took 
him  to  the  stables. 

But  her  father  discerned  the  anxiety  which  she  could  not 
conceal.  He  questioned  her,  and  she  told  him  what  had  hap- 
pened. He  became  furious  with  rage  on  hearing  her  story,  for 
he  was  naturally  choleric  ;  he  ran  among  the  tents,  flinging  off 
his  turban,  and  crying  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  while  all  the 
Arabs  crowded  round  him,  "  Tribe  of  Byah,  tribe  of  Byah ! 
Kinsmen  and  friends,  hear  me."  Then  he  related  what  his 
26 


THE   ABSIANS   AND    FAZAREANS  27 

Gaughter  had  told  him.  "  I  cannot  permit,"  he  added,  "  that 
the  blood  of  my  horse  should  be  blended  with  that  of  Helweh ; 
yet  I  am  not  willing  to  sell  him  for  the  most  costly  sheep  and 
camels ;  and  if  I  cannot  otherwise  prevent  Helweh  from  bear- 
ing a  colt  to  my  stalHon,  I  shall  be  glad  if  some  one  will  put 
the  mare  to  death."  "  By  all  means,"  cried  his  listeners,  "  do 
as  you  please,  for  we  can  have  no  objection."  Such  were  the 
usual  terms  of  Arabian  courtesy. 

Nevertheless,  Helweh.  in  course  of  time,  boi'e  ^  'fine  colt, 
whose  birth  brought  great  joy  to  her  master.'  He  named  the 
young  horse  Dahir.  The  colt  waxed  in  strength  and  beauty, 
until  he  actually  excelled  his  sire  Ocab.  His  chest  was  broad, 
his  neck  long,  his  hoofs  hard,  his  nostrils  widely  expanded. 
His  tail  swept  the  ground,  and  he  was  of  the  gentlest  temper; 
in  short,  he  was  the  most  perfect  creature  ever  seen.  Being 
reared  with  the  greatest  care,  his  shape  was  perfect  as  the  arch- 
way of  a  royal  palace.  When  the  mare  Helweh,  followed  by 
her  colt,  was  one  day  moving  along  the  shore  of  a  lake,  Ocab's 
owner  chanced  to  see  them.  He  seized  the  young  horse,  and 
took  him  home  with  him,  leaving  his  mother  in  grief  for  his 
difference.  "  As  for  Jahir,"  he  said,  "  this  colt  belongs  to  me, 
and  I  have  more  right  to  him  than  anyone  else." 

The  news  of  the  colt's  disappearance  soon  reached  his  own- 
er's ears.  He  assembled  the  chiefs  of  the  tribe,  and  told  them 
what  had  happened.  They  sent  to  Jahir,  and  he  was  re- 
proached bitterly.  "  Jahir,"  they  said,  "  you  have  not  suffered, 
yet  have  done  injustice,  in  that  you  carried  off  that  which  be- 
longed to  another  man."  "  Say  no  more,"  answered  Jahir, 
"  and  spare  me  these  reproaches,  for,  by  the  faith  of  an  Arab,  I 
will  not  return  the  colt,  unless  compelled  by  main  force.  I  will 
declare  war  against  you  first."  At  that  moment  the  tribe  was 
not  prepared  for  a  quarrel ;  and  several  of  them  said  to  Jahir : 
"  We  are  too  much  attached  to  you  to  push  things  to  such  an 
extreme  as  that ;  we  are  your  allies  and  kinsmen.  We  will  not 
fight  with  you,  though  an  idol  of  gold  were  at  stake."  Then 
Kerim,  son  of  Wahrab  (the  latter  being  the  owner  of  the  mare 
and  colt,  a  man  renowned  among  the  Arabs  for  his  generosity), 
seeing  the  obstinacy  of  Jahir,  said  to  him :  "  Cousin,  the  colt  is 
certainly  yours,  and  belongs  to  you ;  as  for  the  mare  here,  ac- 
cept her  as  a  present  from  my  hand,  so  that  mother  and  colt 
will  not  be  separated,  and  no  one  will  be  able  to  accuse  me  of 
Wronging  a  kinsman."  .         ^ 


28  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

The  tribe  highly  applauded  this  act,  and  Jahir  was  so  humili- 
ated by  the  generosity  with  which  he  had  been  treated,  that  he 
returned  mare  and  colt  to  Kerim,  adding  to  the  gift  a  pair  of 
male  and  a  pair  of  female  camels. 

Dahir  soon  became  a  horse  of  absolute  perfection  in  every 
point,  and  when  his  master  Kerim  undertook  to  race  him  with 
another  horse,  he  rode  the  animal  himself,  and  was  in  the 
habit  of  saying  to  his  antagonist,  "  Even  should  you  pass  me 
like  an  arrow,  I  could  catch  you  up,  and  distance  you,"  and  in 
fact  this  always  happened. 

As  soon  as  King  Cais  heard  tell  of  this  horse,  he  became  be- 
side himself  with  longing  and  mortification,  and  his  sleep  left 
him.  He  sent  to  Kerim,  offering  to  buy  the  horse  for  as  much 
gold  or  silver  as  the  owner  demanded,  and  adding  that  the 
price  would  be  forwarded  without  delay.  This  message  en- 
raged Kerim.  "  Is  not  this  Cais  a  fool,  or  a  man  of  no  under- 
standing?" he  exclaimed.  "Does  he  think  I  am  a  man  of 
traffic — a  horse-dealer,  who  cannot  mount  the  horses  he  owns  ? 
I  swear  by  the  faith  of  an  Arab  that  if  he  had  asked  for  Dahir, 
as  a  present,  I  would  have  sent  the  horse,  and  a  troop  of  camels 
besides :  but  if  he  thinks  of  obtaining  him  by  bidding  a  price, 
he  will  never  have  him ;  even  were  I  bound  to  drink  the  cup  of 
death." 

The  messenger  returned  to  Cais,  and  gave  him  the  answer 
of  Kerim,  at  which  the  latter  was  much  annoyed.  "  Am  I  a 
king  over  the  tribes  of  Abs,  of  Adnan,  of  Fazarah,  and  of  Dib- 
yan,"  he  exclaimed,  "  and  yet  a  common  Arab  dares  to  oppose 
me !  "  He  summoned  his  people  and  his  warriors.  Immedi- 
ately there  was  the  flash  of  armor,  of  coats  of  mail,  and  swords 
and  helmets  appeared  amid  the  tents ;  the  champions  mounted 
their  steeds,  shook  their  spears,  and  marched  forth  against  the 
tribe  of  Byah.  As  soon  as  they  reached  their  enemy's  territory 
they  overran  the  pastures,  and  gathered  an  immense  booty  in 
cattle,  which  Cais  divided  among  his  followers.  They  next 
made  for  the  tents  and  surprised  the  dwellers  there,  who  were 
not  prepared  for  such  an  attack :  Kerim  being  absent  with  his 
warriors  on  an  expedition  of  the  same  sort.  Cais  at  the  head 
of  the  Absians,  pushing  his  way  into  the  dwellings,  carried  oflf 
the  wives  and  daughters  of  his  foe. 

As  for  Dahir,  he  was  tethered  to  one  of  the  tent-pegs,  for 
Kerim  never  used  him  as  a  charger,  for  fear  some  harm  might 


THE   ABSIANS   AND    FAZAREANS  29 

befall  him,  or  he  might  be  killed.  One  of  the  slaves  who  had 
been  left  in  the  encampment,  and  had  been  among  the  first  to 
see  the  approach  of  the  Absians,  went  up  to  Dahir  for  the  pur- 
pose of  breaking  the  line  by  which  he  was  hobbled.  This  he 
failed  to  accomplish,  but  mounting  him,  and  digging  his  heels 
into  his  flanks,  he  forced  the  horse,  although  he  was  hobbled, 
to  rush  off  prancing  like  a  fawn,  until  he  reached  the  desert. 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  Absians  pursued  him ;  they  could  not 
even  catch  up  with  the  trail  of  dust  that  he  left  behind  him. 

As  soon  as  Cais  perceived  Dahir,  he  recognized  him,  and  the 
desire  of  possessing  him  became  intensified.  He  hurried  on, 
but  his  chagrin  was  great,  as  he  perceived  that,  do  what  he 
would,  he  never  could  catch  up  with  him.  At  last  the  slave, 
perceiving  that  he  had  quite  out-distanced  the  Absians,  dis- 
mounted, untied  the  feet  of  Dahir,  leapt  again  into  the  saddle, 
and  galloped  ofif.  Cais,  who  had  kept  up  the  pursuit,  gained 
ground  during  this  stop,  and  coming  within  ear-shot  of  the 
slave,  shouted  out,  "  Stop,  Arab,  there  is  no  cause  for  fear ; 
you  have  my  protection ;  by  the  faith  of  a  noble  Arab,  I  swear 
it,"  At  these  words  the  slave  stopped.  "  Do  you  intend  to 
sell  that  horse  ?  "  said  King  Cais  to  him,  "  for  in  that  case  you 
have  the  most  eager  buyer  of  all  the  Arabian  tribesmen."  "  I 
do  not  wish  to  sell  him,  sire,"  replied  the  slave,  "  excepting  at 
one  price,  the  restoration  of  all  the  booty."  "  I  will  buy  him 
then,"  the  King  answered,  and  he  clasped  the  hand  of  the 
Arab  as  pledge  of  the  bargain.  The  slave  dismounted  from 
the  young  horse,  and  delivered  him  over  to  King  Cais,  and  the 
latter  overjoyed  at  having  his  wish,  leapt  on  to  his  back,  and 
set  out  to  rejoin  the  Absians,  whom  he  commanded  to  restore 
all  the  booty  which  they  had  taken.  His  order  was  executed  to 
the  letter.  King  Cais,  enchanted  at  the  success  of  his  enter- 
prise, and  at  the  possession  of  Dahir,  returned  home.  So  great 
was  his  fondness  for  the  horse  that  he  groomed  and  fed  him 
with  his  own  hands.  Soon  as  Hadifah,  chief  of  the  tribe  of 
Fazarah,  heard  that  Cais  had  possession  of  Dahir,  jealousy 
filled  his  heart.  In  concert  with  other  chiefs  he  plotted  the 
death  of  this  beautiful  horse. 

Now  it  came  to  pass  that  at  this  time  Hadifah  gave  a  great 
feast,  and  Carwash,  kinsman  of  King  Cais,  was  present.  At 
the  end  of  the  meal,  and  while  the  wine  circulated  freely  the 
course  of  conversation  turned  to  the  most  famous  chiefs  of  the 


30  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

time.  The  subject  being  exhausted,  the  guests  began  to 
speak  about  their  most  celebrated  horses,  and  next,  of  the 
journeys  made  by  them  in  the  desert.  "  Kinsmen,"  said  Car- 
wash,  "  none  of  you  ever  saw  a  horse  Hke  Dahir,  which  be- 
longs to  my  ally  Cais.  It  is  vain  to  seek  his  equal ;  his  pace 
is  absolutely  terrifying.  He  chases  away  sorrow  from  the 
heart  of  him  who  beholds  him,  and  protects  like  a  strong  tower 
the  man  who  mounts  him."  Carwash  did  not  stop  here,  but 
contmued  to  praise,  in  the  highest  and  most  distinguished  lan- 
guage, the  horse  Dahir,  until  all  of  the  tribe  of  Fazarah  and  of 
the  family  of  Zyad,  felt  their  hearts  swell  with  rage.  "  Do  you 
hear  him,  brother?"  said  Haml  to  Hadifah;  "come,  that  is 
enough,"  he  added,  turning  towards  Carwash.  "  All  that  you 
have  said  about  Dahir  is  absolute  nonsense — for  at  present 
there  are  no  horses  better  or  finer  than  mine,  and  those  of  my 
brother." 

With  these  words  he  ordered  his  slaves  to  bring  his  horses 
and  parade  them  before  Carwash.  This  was  done.  "  Come, 
Carwash,  look  at  that  horse."  "  He  is  not  worth  the  hay  you 
feed  him  on,"  said  the  other.  Then  those  of  Hadifah  were  led 
out ;  among  them  was  a  mare,  named  Ghabra,  and  a  stallion 
called  Marik.  "  Now  look  at  these,"  said  Hadifah.  "  They 
are  not  worth  the  hay  they  eat,"  replied  Carwash.  Hadifah, 
filled  with  indignation  at  these  words :  "  What,  not  even  Gha- 
bra? "  "  Not  even  Ghabra,  or  all  the  horses  in  the  world,"  re- 
peated Carwash.  "  Would  you  like  to  make  a  bet  for  us  with 
King  Cais  ?  "  "  Certainly,"  answered  Carwash — "  I  will  wager 
that  Dahir  will  beat  all  the  horses  of  the  tribe  of  Fazarah,  even 
if  he  carries  a  hundred  weight  of  stone  on  his  back."  They 
discussed  the  matter  for  a  long  time,  the  one  affirming  the 
other  denying  the  statements,  until  Hadifah  closed  the  alterca- 
tion by  saying,  "  I  hold  to  the  wager,  on  condition  that  the 
winner  takes  from  the  loser  as  many  male  and  female  camels  as 
he  chooses."  "  You  are  going  to  play  me  a  nice  trick,"  said 
Carwash,  "  and  for  my  part  I  tell  you  plainly  that  I  won't  bet 
more  than  twenty  camels;  the  man  whose  horse  loses  shall 
pay  this  forfeit."  The  matter  was  arranged  accordingly. 
They  sat  at  table  until  nightfall,  and  then  rested. 

The  next  day  Carwash  left  his  tent  at  early  mom,  went  to 
the  tribe  of  Abs,  to  find  Cais,  whom  he  told  about  the  wager. 
"  You  were  wrong,"  said  Cais.     "  You  might  have  made  a  bet 


THE   ABSIANS    AND    FAZAREANS  31 

with  anyone  excepting  Hadifah,  who  is  a  man  of  tricks  and 
treachery.  If  you  have  made  the  wager,  you  will  have  to  de- 
clare it  off."  Cais  waited  until  certain  persons  who  were  with 
him  had  retired,  then  he  at  once  took  horse,  and  repaired  to 
the  tribe  of  Fazarah,  where  everybody  was  taking  their  morn- 
ing meal  in  their  tents.  Cais  dismounted,  took  off  his  arms, 
and  seating  himself  among  them  began  to  eat  with  them,  like 
a  noble  Arab.  "  Cousin,"  said  Hadifah  to  him  jokingly, 
"  What  large  mouthfuls  you  take ;  heaven  preserve  me  fron-; 
having  an  appetite  like  yours."  "  It  is  true,"  said  Cais,  "  that 
I  am  dying  of  hunger,  but  by  Him  who  abides  always,  and  will 
abide  forever,  I  came  not  here  merely  to  eat  your  victuals.  My 
intention  is  to  annul  the  wager  which  was  yesterday  made  be- 
tween you  and  my  kinsman  Carwash.  I  beg  of  you  to  cancel 
this  bet,  for  all  that  is  uttered  over  cups  and  flagons  is  of  no 
serious  account,  and  ought  to  be  forgotten."  "  I  would  have 
you  to  know,"  was  the  answer,  "  that  I  will  not  withdraw  from 
the  challenge,  unless  you  forfeit  the  camels  which  are  staked. 
If  you  accept  this  condition,  I  shall  be  perfectly  indifferent  to 
everything  else.  Nevertheless,  if  you  wish  it,  I  will  seize  the 
camels  by  force,  or,  if  it  be  your  good  pleasure,  I  will  waive 
every  claim,  save  as  a  debt  of  honor."  In  spite  of  all  that  Cais 
could  say,  Hadifah  remained  firm  in  his  resolution,  and  as  his 
brother  began  to  deride  Cais,  the  latter  lost  his  temper,  and 
with  a  face  blazing  with  wrath  he  asked  of  Hadifah,  "What 
stake  did  you  offer  in  your  wager  with  my  cousin  ?  "  "  Twen- 
ty she-camels,"  said  Hadifah.  "  As  for  this  first  wager,"  an- 
swered Cais,  "  I  cancel  it,  and  propose  another  one  in  its  stead : 
I  will  bet  thirty  camels."  "  And  I  forty,"  replied  Hadifah. 
"  I  make  it  fifty,"  was  the  retort  of  Cais.  "  Sixty,"  quickly 
added  the  other ;  and  they  continued  raising  the  terms  of  the 
wager,  until  the  number  of  camels  staked  was  one  hundred. 
The  contract  of  the  bet  was  deposited  in  the  hands  of  a  man 
named  Sabic,  son  of  Wahhab,  and  in  the  presence  of  a  crowd 
of  youths  and  old  men.  "  What  shall  be  the  length  of  the 
race?"  asked  Hadifah  of  Cais.  "One  hundred  bow-shots," 
replied  Cais,  "  and  we  have  an  archer  here,  Ayas,  the  son  of 
Mansour,  who  will  measure  the  ground."  Ayas  was  in  fact 
the  strongest  and  most  accomplished  archer  then  living  among 
the  Arabs.  King  Cais,  by  choosing  Ayas,  wished  the  course 
to  be  made  long,  knowing  the  endurance  of  his  horse,  and  the 


32  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

longer  distance  Dahir  had  to  travel,  the  more  he  gained  speed, 
from  the  increased  excitement  of  his  spirit.  "  Well  now,  we 
had  better  fix  the  day  for  the  race,"  said  Cais  to  Hadifah. 
"  Forty  days  will  be  required,"  replied  Hadifah,  "  to  bring  the 
horses  into  condition."  "  You  are  right,"  said  Cais,  and  they 
agreed  that  the  horses  should  be  trained  for  forty  days,  that  the 
race  should  take  place  by  the  lake  Zatalirsad,  and  that  the 
horse  that  first  reached  the  goal  should  be  declared  winner. 
All  these  preliminaries  having  been  arranged,  Cais  returned  to 
his  tents. 

Meanwhile  one  of  the  horsemen  of  the  tribe  of  Fazarah  said 
to  his  neighbors :  "  Kinsmen,  you  may  rest  assured  that  there 
is  going  to  be  a  breach  between  the  tribe  of  Abs  and  that  of 
Fazarah,  as  a  result  of  this  race  between  Dahir  and  Ghabra. 
The  two  tribes,  you  must  know,  will  be  mutually  estranged, 
for  King  Cais  has  been  there  in  person;  now  he  is  a  prince 
and  the  son  of  a  prince.  He  has  made  every  effort  to  cancel 
the  bet,  but  Hadifah  would  by  no  means  consent.  All  this  is 
the  beginning  of  a  broil,  which  may  be  followed  by  a  war,  pos- 
sibly lasting  fifty  years,  and  many  a  one  will  fall  in  the  strug- 
gle." 

Hadifah  hearing  this  prediction,  said :  "  I  don't  trouble  my- 
self much  about  the  matter,  and  your  suggestion  seems  to  me 
absurd."  "  O  Hadifah,"  exclaimed  Ayas,  "  I  am  going  to  tell 
you  what  will  be  the  result  of  all  your  obstinacy  towards  Cais." 
Then  he  recited  some  verses,  with  the  following  meaning:  "  In 
thee,  O  Hadifah,  there  is  no  beauty ;  and  in  the  purity  of  Cais 
there  is  not  a  single  blot.  How  sincere  and  honest  was  his 
counsels,  although  they  were  lacking  in  prudence  and  dignity. 
Make  a  wager  with  a  man  who  does  not  possess  even  an  ass, 
and  whose  father  has  never  been  rich  enough  to  buy  a  horse. 
Let  Cais  alone ;  he  has  wealth,  lands,  horses,  a  proud  spirit, 
and  he  is  the  owner  of  this  Dahir,  who  is  always  first  on  the 
day  of  a  race,  whether  he  is  resting  or  running — this  Dahir,  a 
steed  whose  feet  even  appear  through  the  obscurity  of  night 
like  burning  brands."  "  Ayas,"  replied  Hadifah,  "  do  you 
think  I  would  break  my  word  ?  I  will  take  the  camels  of  Cais, 
and  will  not  permit  my  name  to  be  inscribed  among  the  num- 
ber of  those  who  have  been  vanquished.  Let  things  run  their 
course." 

As  soon  as  King  Cais  had  regained  his  tents  he  hastened  to 


THE   ABSIANS   AND    FAZAREANS  33 

tell  his  slaves  to  begin  the  training  of  his  horses,  and  to  pay 
especial  attention  to  Dahir.  Then  he  told  his  kinsmen  all  that 
had  taken  place  between  himself  and  Hadifah.  Antar  was 
present  at  this  recital,  and  as  he  took  great  interest  in  all  that 
concerned  the  king,  he  said,  "  Cais,  calm  your  fears,  keep  your 
eyes  well  open,  run  the  race,  and  have  no  fear.  For,  by  the 
faith  of  an  Arab,  if  Hadifah  makes  any  trouble  or  misunder- 
standing, I  will  kill  him,  as  well  as  the  whole  tribe  of  Fazarah." 

The  conversation  on  this  subject  continued  until  they 
reached  the  tents,  which  Antar  declined  to  enter  before  seeing 
Dahir.  He  walked  several  times  round  this  animal,  and  saw 
at  a  glance  that  the  horse  actually  possessed  qualities  which 
astonished  any  one  who  saw  him. 

Hadifah  quickly  learned  the  return  of  Antar,  and  knew  that 
the  hero  was  encouraging  King  Cais  to  run  the  race.  Haml, 
Hadifah's  brother,  had  also  heard  the  news,  and  in  the  distress 
which  he  felt  remarked  to  Hadifah,  "  I  fear  lest  Antar  should 
fall  upon  me,  or  some  one  of  the  family  of  Beder,  and  kill  us, 
and  thus  render  us  disgraced.  Give  up  this  race,  or  we  are 
ruined.  Let  me  go  to  King  Cais,  and  I  will  not  leave  him 
until  he  promises  to  come  to  you  and  cancel  the  contract." 
"  Do  as  you  please,"  answered  Hadifah.  Thereupon  Haml 
took  horse,  and  went  immediately  to  King  Cais.  He  found 
him  with  his  uncle  Assyed,  a  wise  and  prudent  man.  Haml  ap- 
proached Cais,  saluted  him  by  kissing  his  hand,  and  after  say- 
ing that  he  was  the  bearer  of  an  important  message,  added: 
"  Kinsman,  you  know  that  my  brother  Hadifah  is  a  low  fellow, 
whose  mind  is  full  of  intrigues.  I  have  spent  the  last  three 
days  in  trying  to  persuade  him  to  cancel  this  wager.  At  last 
he  has  said :  *  Very  good,  if  Cais  comes  to  me,  and  wishes  to 
be  released  from  the  contract,  I  will  annul  it ;  but  do  not  let 
any  Arab  think  that  I  abandon  the  bet  through  fear  of  Antar.' 
Now  you,  Cais,  are  aware  that  the  greatest  proof  of  attach- 
ment between  kinsmen  is  their  willingness  to  give  way  to  one 
another.  So  I  am  here  to  beg  that  you  will  come  to  the  dwell- 
ing of  my  brother  Hadifah  and  ask  him  to  give  up  the  race,  be- 
fore it  causes  trouble,  and  the  tribe  be  utterly  driven  away  from 
its  territories."  At  this  address  of  Haml,  Cais  became  flushed 
with  shame,  for  he  was  trusting  and  generous.  He  at  once 
arose,  and  leaving  his  uncle  Assyed  in  charge  of  his  domestic 
business,  he  accompanied  Haml  to  the  land  of  Fazarah.  When 
Vol.  IVa.— 3 


34  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

they  were  midway  on  their  journey  Haml  began  to  utter  lavish 
praises  of  Cais  to  the  latter's  face,  and  to  blame  his  own 
brother's  faults,  in  the  following  terms :  "  O  Cais,  do  not  let 
your  wrath  be  stirred  up  against  Hadifah,  for  he  is  verily  a 
man  headstrong  and  unjust  in  his  actions.  O  Cais,  if  you  per- 
sist in  holding  to  the  bet,  great  disasters  will  follow.  Both  you 
and  he  are  impulsive  and  passionate,  and  this  is  what  causes  me 
to  feel  anxiety  about  you,  Cais.  Put  aside  your  private  feel- 
ings, be  kind  and  generous,  and  it  will  come  to  pass  that  the 
oppressor  himself  will  become  the  oppressed." 

Haml  continued  to  abuse  his  brother,  and  to  flatter  Cais  with 
expressions  of  admiration  all  the  way,  until  in  the  evening  they 
arrived  at  the  tribe  of  Fazarah.  Hadifah,  who  at  the  moment 
was  surrounded  by  many  powerful  chiefs,  upon  whose  aid  he 
depended  in  the  hour  of  need,  had  changed  his  mind  since  his 
brother  Haml's  departure,  and  in  place  of  coming  to  terms  and 
making  peace  with  Cais  he  had  determined  to  yield  in  nothing, 
but  to  maintain  rigorously  the  conditions  of  the  coming  race. 
He  was  speaking  of  this  very  matter  with  one  of  the  diiefs  at 
the  moment  when  Cais  and  Haml  presented  themselves  liefore 
him.  As  soon  as  Hadifah  saw  Cais,  he  resolved  to  cover  him 
with  shame.  Turning  therefore  to  his  brother,  he  asked: 
"  Who  ordered  you  to  go  to  this  man  ?  By  the  faith  of  a  noble 
Arab,  even  if  all  the  men  who  cover  the  surface  of  the  earth 
were  to  come  and  importune  me,  saying,  '  O  Hadifah,  give  up 
one  hair  of  these  camels,'  I  would  not  yield  until  a  lance  had 
pierced  my  heart  and  a  sword  stricken  the  head  from  my  shoul- 
ders." Cais  crimsoned,  and  immediately  remounted  his  horse, 
bitterly  reproaching  Haml.  He  returned  home  with  the  ut- 
most haste,  and  found  his  uncle  and  brothers  waiting  for  him 
in  extreme  anxiety.  "  O  my  son !  "  said  his  uncle  Assyed  as 
soon  as  he  saw  him,  "  you  have  had  a  disastrous  journey,  for 
it  has  caused  you  to  be  disgraced." 

"  If  Hadifah  had  not  been  surrounded  by  certain  chiefs,  who 
gave  him  treacherous  counsels,  I  could  have  arranged  the 
whole  affair,"  answered  Cais.  "  There  is  now  nothing  left 
but  to  carry  out  the  race  and  the  bet." 

King  Cais  did  not  sleep  the  whole  of  that  night.  On  the 
morrow  he  thought  of  nothing  but  the  training  of  his  horses 
during  the  forty  days'  interval  before  the  race.  All  the  Arabs 
of  the  land  agreed  to  come  to  the  pastures  and  see  the  race,  and 


THE   ABSIANS    AND    FAZAREANS 


35 


when  the  forty  days  had  expired  the  horsemen  of  the  two 
tribes  came  in  a  crowd  to  the  banks  of  lake  Zatahrsud.  Next 
arrived  the  archer  Ayas,  who,  turning  his  back  to  the  lake  at 
the  point  where  the  horses  were  to  start,  drew  his  bow  as  he 
walked  toward  the  north  a  hundred  times,  and  measured  out 
to  the  goal  the  course  of  a  hundred  bow-shots.  Soon  the 
horsemen  of  Ghitfan  and  Dibyan  arrived,  for  they  were  of  the 
same  territory,  and  because  of  their  friendly  relations  and  kin- 
ship were  comprised  as  one  tribe  under  the  name  of  Adnan. 
King  Cais  had  begged  Antar  not  to  show  himself  on  this  occa- 
sion, fearing  that  his  appearance  might  cause  dissension.  An- 
tar listened  to  this  advice,  but  was  unable  to  rest  quiet  in  the 
tents.  The  interest  he  felt  in  Cais,  and  the  deep  distrust  with 
which  the  falseness  of  the  Fazareans — who  were  always  ready 
for  treason — inspired  him,  induced  him  to  show  himself.  Gird- 
ing on  his  sword  Dhami,  and  mounting  his  famous  charger, 
Abjer,  he  took  with  him  his  brother  Shidoub,  and  reached  the 
spot  fixed  upon  for  the  race,  in  order  that  he  might  watch  over 
the  safety  of  King  Zoheir's  sons.  On  his  arrival  he  seemed  to 
excel  all  that  crowd,  like  a  lion  clad  in  coat  of  mail.  He  car- 
ried his  naked  sword,  and  his  eyes  flashed  like  blazing  coals. 
As  soon  as  he  had  reached  the  middle  of  the  crowd,  he  cried  out 
with  a  loud  voice,  that  struck  terror  to  all  hearts :  "  Hearken, 
noble  Arabian  chieftains  and  men  of  renown  assembled  here — 
all  of  you  know  that  I  was  supported  and  favored  by  King  Zo- 
heir,  father  of  King  Cais,  that  I  am  a  slave  bound  to  him,  by 
his  goodness  and  munificence;  that  it  is  he  who  caused  my 
parents  to  acknowledge  me,  and  gave  me  my  rank,  making  me 
to  be  numbered  among  Arab  chiefs.  Although  he  is  no  longer 
living,  I  wish  to  show  my  gratitude  to  him,  and  bring  the  kings 
of  the  land  into  subjection  to- him,  even  after  his  death.  He 
has  left  a  son,  whom  his  brothers  have  acknowledged,  and 
have  set  on  the  throne  of  his  father.  This  son  is  Cais,  whom 
they  have  thus  distinguished,  because  of  his  wisdom,  rectitude, 
and  noble  heart.  I  am  the  slave  of  Cais,  and  am  his  property ;  I 
intend  to  be  the  supporter  of  him  whom  I  love,  and  the  enemy 
of  whosoever  resists  him.  It  shall  never  be  said,  as  long  as  I 
live,  that  I  have  suffered  an  enemy  to  affront  him.  As  to  the 
conditions  of  this  wager,  it  is  our  duty  to  see  them  observed. 
The  best  thing,  accordingly,  to  do  is  to  let  the  horses  race  un- 
obstructed, for  victory  comes  from  the  creator  of  day  and  night. 


jfi  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

I  make  an  oath,  therefore,  by  the  holy  house  at  Mecca,  by  the 
temple,  by  the  eternal  God,  who  never  forgets  his  servants  and 
never  sleeps,  that  if  Hadifah  commits  any  act  of  violence,  I  will 
make  him  drink  the  cup  of  vengeance  and  of  death ;  and  will 
make  the  whole  tribe  of  Fazarah  the  byword  of  all  the  world. 
And  you.  Arab  chieftains,  if  you  sincerely  desire  the  race  to 
take  place,  conduct  yourselves  with  justice  and  impartiality; 
otherwise,  by  the  eyes  of  my  dear  Ibla,  I  will  make  the  horses 
run  the  race  in  blood."  "  Antar  is  right,"  the  horsemen 
shouted  on  all  sides. 

Hadifah  chose,  as  the  rider  of  Ghabra,  a  groom  of  the  tribe 
of  Dibyan.  This  man  had  passed  all  his  days  and  many  of  his 
nights  in  rearing  and  tending  horses.  Cais,  on  the  other  hand, 
chose  as  rider  of  Dahir  a  groom  of  the  tribe  of  Abs,  much  bet- 
ter trained  and  experienced  in  his  profession  than  was  the 
Dibyanian.  When  the  two  contestants  had  mounted  their 
horses  King  Cais  gave  this  parting  instruction  to  his  groom : 
"  Do  not  let  the  reins  hang  too  loosely  in  managing  Dahir ;  if 
you  see  him  flag,  stand  up  in  your  stirrups,  and  press'his  flanks 
gently  with  your  legs.  Do  not  urge  him  too  much,  or  you  will 
break  his  spirit."  Hadifah  heard  this  advice  and  repeated  it, 
word  for  word,  to  his  rider. 

Antar  began  to  laugh.  "  By  the  faith  of  an  Arab,"  he  said 
to  Hadifah,  "  you  will  be  beaten.  Are  words  so  scarce  that 
you  are  obliged  to  use  exactly  those  of  Cais?  But  as  a  matter 
of  fact  Cais  is  a  king,  the  son  of  a  king ;  he  ought  always  to  be 
imitated  by  others,  and  since  you  have  followed,  word  by  word, 
his  speech,  it  is  a  proof  that  your  horse  will  follow  his  in  the 
desert." 

At  these  words  the  heart  of  Hadifah  swelled  with  rage  and 
indignation,  and  he  swore  with  an  oath  that  he  would  not  let 
his  horse  run  that  day,  but  that  he  wished  the  race  to  take  place 
at  sunrise,  next  morning.  This  delay  was  indispensable  to 
him  in  preparing  the  act  of  perfidy  which  he  meditated,  for  he 
had  no  sooner  seen  Dahir  than  he  was  speechless  with  aston- 
ishment at  the  beauty  and  perfections  of  the  horse. 

The  judges  had  already  dismounted  and  the  horsemen  of  the 
various  tribes  were  preparing  to  return  home,  when  Shidoub 
began  to  cry  out  with  a  loud  voice,  "  Tribes  of  Abs,  of  Adnan, 
of  Fazarah  and  of  Dibyan,  and  all  here  present  attend  to  me  for 
an  instant,  and  listen  to  words  which  shall  be  repeated  from 


THE   ABSIANS   AND    FAZAREANS  37 

generation  to  generation."  All  the  warriors  stood  motionless. 
"  Speak  on,"  they  cried,  "  what  is  your  will?  Perhaps  there 
may  be  something  good  in  your  words."  "  Illustrious  Arabs," 
continued  Shidoub,  "  you  know  what  happened  in  consequence 
of  the  match  between  Dahir  and  Ghabra :  I  assure  you  on  my 
life  that  I  will  outstrip  both  of  them  in  running,  even  were  they 
swifter  than  the  wind.  But  listen  to  the  condition  I  offer ;  if  I 
am  the  winner,  I  am  to  take  the  hundred  camels  which  are  at 
stake;  but  if  I  am  beaten,  I  am  to  forfeit  fifty."  Upon  this 
one  of  the  Sheiks  of  Fazarah  exclaimed,  "  "What  is  that  you  are 
saying,  vile  slave  ?  Why  should  you  receive  a  hundred  camels 
if  you  win  and  only  forfeit  fifty  if  you  lose?  "  "  Do  you  ask 
why,  ancient  mire  of  a  dunghill,"  replied  Shidoub,  "  because  I 
have  but  two  legs  to  run  on  and  a  horse  has  four,  not  counting 
his  tail."  All  the  Arabs  burst  out  laughing ;  yet  as  they  were 
astonished  at  the  conditions  proposed  by  Shidoub,  and  ex- 
tremely curious  to  see  him  run  the  race,  they  agreed  that  he 
should  m_ake  the  hazardous  experiment. 

When  all  had  returned  to  the  tents  Antar  said  to  Shidoub : 
"  Come,  now,  thou  son  of  a  cursed  mother,  how  dared  thou  say 
that  thou  couldst  outstrip  these  two  horses,  whose  race  all  horse- 
men of  our  tribes  have  assembled  to  see,  and  who  all  the  world 
admits  have  no  equals  in  speed,  not  even  among  the  birds  of 
the  air?  "  "  By  him  who  created  the  springs  in  the  rocks  and 
who  knows  all  things,"  replied  Shidoub,  "  I  will  outstrip  those 
two  horses,  be  they  fleet  as  the  winds.  Yes,  and  my  victory 
will  have  an  advantageous  result,  for  when  the  Arabs  hear  of 
it,  they  will  give  up  all  idea  of  pursuing  me,  when  I  run  across 
the  desert."  Antar  laughed,  for  he  was  in  doubt  about  Shi- 
doub's  plan.  The  latter  went  to  find  King  Cais  and  his  broth- 
ers, and  the  other  witnesses  of  the  race,  and  made  oath  on  his 
life  that  he  would  outstrip  the  two  horses.  All  present  ac- 
knowledged themselves  witnesses  of  the  oath,  and  left  the  spot, 
filled  with  astonishment  at  the  proposition. 

As  for  the  trickster  Hadifah,  in  the  evening  he  summoned 
one  of  his  slaves  named  Dames,  a  rascal,  if  ever  there  was  one. 
"  O  Dames,"  he  said,  "  you  frequently  boast  of  your  cunning, 
but  hitherto  I  have  had  no  opportunity  of  putting  it  to  the 
proof."  "  My  Lord,"  answered  the  slave,  "  tell  me  in  what 
way  I  can  be  useful  to  you."  "  I  desire,"  said  Hadifah,  "  that 
you  go  and  post  yourself  in  the  great  pass.     Remain  in  this 


38  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

place,  and  go  and  hide  yourself  there  in  the  morning.  Watch 
the  horses  well,  and  see  if  Dahir  is  in  advance.  If  he  is,  show 
yourself  suddenly,  strike  him  on  the  head,  and  cause  him  to 
stop,  so  that  Ghabra  may  outstrip  him,  and  we  may  not  incur 
the  disgrace  of  defeat.  For  I  confess  that  since  I  have  seen 
Dahir,  his  excellent  points  have  made  me  doubt  the  superiority 
of  Ghabra,  and  I  fear  my  mare  will  be  beaten,  and  we  shall  be- 
come the  laughing  stock  of  all  the  Arabs."  "  But,  sir,  how 
shall  I  distinguish  Dahir  from  Ghabra  when  they  advance, 
both  of  them  wrapped  in  a  cloud  of  dust  ?  "  Hadifah  replied, 
"  I  am  going  to  give  you  a  sign,  and  to  explain  how  the  matter 
may  be  free  from  difficulty."  As  he  spoke  he  picked  up  some 
stones  from  the  ground  and  said :  "  Take  these  stones  with  you 
at  sunrise,  begin  to  count  them,  and  throw  them  to  the  earth, 
four  at  a  time.  You  must  repeat  the  operation  five  times,  and 
the  last  time  Ghabra  will  arrive.  That  is  the  calculation  I  have 
made,  so  that  if  a  cloud  of  dust  presents  itself  to  you,  and  some 
of  the  stones,  a  third  or  a  half  of  them,  still  remain  in  your  hand, 
you  may  be  sure  that  Dahir  has  gained  first  place,  and  is  be- 
fore your  eyes.  You  must  then  hurl  a  stone  at  his  head,  as  I 
said,  and  stop  his  running,  so  that  my  mare  may  gain  the  lead." 
The  slave  agreed  to  do  so.  He  provided  himself  with  stones 
and  went  to  hide  himself  at  the  great  pass,  and  Hadifah  felt 
confident  of  gaining  the  wager. 

At  the  dawn  of  day,  the  Arabs,  coming  from  all  quarters, 
were  assembled  on  the  race  ground.  The  judges  gave  the 
signal  for  the  start,  and  the  two  riders  uttered  loud  shouts. 
The  racers  started  like  flashes  of  lightning  which  dazzle  the 
sight  and  seemed  like  the  wind  when,  as  it  blows,  it  increases 
in  fury.  Ghabra  passed  ahead  of  Dahir  and  distanced  him. 
"  Now  you  are  lost,  my  brother  of  the  tribe  of  Abs,"  cried  the 
Fazarean  groom  to  the  Absian,  "  try  and  console  yourself  for 
this  defeat."  "  You  He,"  retorted  the  Absian,  and  in  a  few 
moments  you  will  see  how  completely  you  are  mistaken.  Wait 
till  we  have  passed  this  uneven  ground.  Mares  always  travel 
faster  on  rough  roads  than  on  smooth  country."  And  so  it 
happened,  for  when  they  arrived  in  the  plain,  Dahir  shot  for- 
ward like  a  giant,  leaving  a  trail  of  dust  behind  him.  It  seemed 
as  if  he  went  on  wings,  not  legs ;  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  he 
had  outstripped  Ghabra.  "  Here,"  cried  the  Absian  to  the 
Fazarean  groom,  "  send  a  messenger  from  me  to  the  family  of 


THE   ABSIANS   AND    FAZAREANS  39 

Beder,  and  you  yourself  drink  the  bitter  cup  of  patience  be- 
hind me."  Meanwhile  Shidoub,  swift  as  the  north  wind,  kept 
ahead  of  Dahir,  bounding  like  a  fawn  and  running  like  an 
ostrich,  until  he  reached  the  defile  where  Dames  was  hidden. 
The  slave  had  only  thrown  down  less  than  a  third  of  his  peb- 
bles, when  he  looked  up  and  saw  Dahir  approaching. 

He  waited  till  the  horse  passed  close  by  him,  and  suddenly 
showed  himself  with  a  shout,  and  hit  the  racer  violently  be- 
tween the  eyes  with  a  stone.  The  horse  reared,  stopped  one 
moment,  and  the  rider  was  on  the  point  of  being  unseated. 
Shidoub  was  a  witness  to  the  incident,  and  having  looked  at  the 
slave,  recognized  him  as  belonging  to  the  treacherous  Hadifah. 
In  the  violence  of  his  rage  he  flung  himself  upon  Dames,  and 
struck  him  dead  with  his  sword ;  then  he  approached  Dahir  for 
the  purpose  of  speaking  soothingly  to  him,  and  starting  him 
again  on  the  race ;  but,  alas,  the  mare  Ghabra  rushed  up  like 
the  wind.  Then  Shidoub,  fearing  defeat,  thinking  of  the 
camels  he  would  forfeit,  set  out  running  at  full  speed  towards 
the  lake,  where  he  arrived  two  bow-shots  in  advance  of  the 
horses.  Ghabra  followed,  then  Dahir  last,  bearing  on  his  fore- 
head the  mark  of  the  missile;  his  cheeks  were  covered  with 
blood  and  tears. 

All  the  spectators  were  astounded  on  seeing  the  agility  and 
endurance  of  Shidoub ;  but  as  soon  as  Ghabra  had  reached  the 
finish  the  Fazareans  uttered  loud  shouts  of  joy.  Dahir  was 
led  home  all  bleeding,  and  his  rider  told  the  men  of  the  tribe 
of  Abs  what  the  slave  had  done.  Cais  examined  the  wound  of 
his  horse  and  asked  for  full  details  of  the  occurrence.  Antar 
grew  crimson  with  anger,  and  laid  his  hand  upon  his  invincible 
sword,  as  if  impatient  to  annihilate  the  tribe  of  the  Fazareans. 
But  the  sheiks  restrained  him,  although  with  difficulty,  after 
which  they  went  to  Hadifah  to  cover  him  with  shame,  and  to 
reproach  him  with  the  infamous  deed  he  had  done.  Hadifah 
denied  it,  with  false  oaths,  affirming  that  he  knew  nothing  of 
the  blow  dealt  to  Dahir ;  then  he  added,  "  I  demand  the  camels 
which  are  due  to  me,  and  I  do  not  admit  the  treacherous  pre- 
text on  which  they  are  being  withheld." 

"  That  blow  is  doubtless  of  evil  augury  for  the  tribe  of  Faza- 
rah,"  said  Cais.  "  God  will  certainly  give  us  victory  and 
triumph,  and  destroy  them.  For  Hadifah  only  desired  this 
race  to  take  place  in  order  that  it  might  cause  trouble  and  dis- 


40 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 


cord,  and  the  disturbance  which  this  contest  is  sure  to  excite 
will  stir  up  one  tribe  against  another,  so  that  there  will  be 
many  men  killed,  and  children  made  orphans."  The  conver- 
sation which  followed  among  the  tribesmen  became  more  and 
more  excited,  confusion  followed,  shouts  rang  out  on  all  sides, 
and  drawn  swords  flashed.  Bloodshed  would  have  resulted  had 
not  the  sheiks  and  wise  men  dismounted  and  with  bared  heads 
mingled  with  the  crowd,  with  humble  mien,  imploring  them, 
until  at  last  the  matter  was  settled  as  harmoniously  as  possible. 
It  was  agreed  that  Shidoub  should  receive  the  amount  of  the 
wager — a  hundred  camels  from  the  tribe  of  Fazarah,  and  that 
Hadifah  should  abandon  his  claims  and  refrain  from  all  dis- 
pute. Such  were  the  measures  taken  to  extinguish  the  hos- 
tility and  disorder  which  threatened  to  burst  out  among  the 
tribes.  Then  the  different  families  retired  to  their  own  dwell- 
ings, but  the  hearts  of  all  were  filled  with  bitter  hatred.  One 
whose  resentment  seemed  keenest  was  Hadifah,  especially 
when  he  learned  of  the  slave  Dames's  death.  As  for  Cais,  he 
was  also  filled  with  mute  rage  and  intense  hatred.  Yet  Antar 
tried  to  reassure  him.  "  King,"  he  said  to  him,  "  do  not  let 
your  heart  be  a  prey  to  mortification ;  for  I  swear  by  the  tomb 
of  King  Zoheir,  your  father,  that  I  will  cause  disgrace  and  in- 
famy to  fall  on  Hadifah,  and  it  is  only  from  regard  for  you 
that  I  have  up  to  this  time  delayed  action."  Soon  after  all  re- 
turned to  their  tents. 

The  following  morning  Shidoub  killed  twenty  of  the  camels 
he  had  won  the  day  before,  and  caused  the  meat  to  be  distrib- 
uted among  the  widows  and  those  who  had  been  wounded  and 
crippled  in  war.  He  slaughtered  twenty  others,  which  he 
used  in  entertaining  the  tribe  of  Abs,  including  women  and 
slaves.  Finally,  the  next  day,  he  killed  the  rest  of  the  camels 
and  made  a  great  feast  near  the  lake  Zatalirsad,  to  which  he 
invited  the  sons  of  King  Zoheir  and  his  noblest  chieftains.  At 
the  end  of  this  banquet,  when  the  wine  circulated  among  the 
guests,  all  praised  the  behavior  of  Shidoub.  But  the  news  of 
the  camel  slaughter  and  of  all  the  feasting  was  soon  known  to 
the  tribe  of  Fazarah.  All  the  enraged  tribesmen  hastened  to 
seek  Hadifah.  "  What,"  said  they,  "  while  we  were  first  in  the 
race,  slaves  and  traitorous  Absians  have  eaten  our  camels! 
Send  for  an  equal  number  of  camels,  by  all  means ;  but  if  he 
refuses  them  let  us  make  a  terrible  war  upon  the  Absians." 


THE    ABSIANS    AND    FAZAREANS  41 

Hadifah  raised  his  eyes  upon  his  son  Abou-Firacah. 
"  Mount  horse  at  once,"  he  said  to  him,  "  and  go  and  say  to 
Cais :  my  father  says  that  you  must  this  instant  pay  the  wager, 
or  he  will  come  and  seize  the  amount  by  main  force,  and  will 
bring  trouble  upon  you."  There  was  then  present  a  chief 
among  the  sheiks,  who,  hearing  the  order  that  Hadifah  had 
given  to  his  son,  said:  "  O  Hadifah,  are  you  not  ashamed  to 
send  such  a  message  to  the  tribe  of  the  Absians  ?  Are  they  not 
our  kindred  and  allies  ?  Does  this  proposal  harmonize  with 
the  counsel  and  desire  of  allaying  dissensions?  The  genuine 
man  shows  gratitude  for  generosity  and  kindness.  I  think  it 
quite  reasonable  to  expect  that  you  desist  from  this  perverse 
mood,  which  will  end  in  our  total  extermination.  Cais  has 
shown  himself  quite  impartial  and  has  done  wrong  to  no  one ; 
cherish,  therefore,  peace  with  the  horsemen  of  the  tribe  of  Abs. 
Take  warning  from  what  happened  to  the  slave  Dames ;  he 
struck  Dahir,  the  horse  of  King  Cais,  and  God  punished  him 
at  once ;  he  is  left  bathed  in  his  slavish  blood.  I  beg  you  to 
listen  to  none  but  wise  counsels ;  act  nobly,  and  abandon  base 
designs.  While  you  are  thus  forewarned  as  to  your  situation, 
keep  a  prudent  eye  on  your  affairs."  This  discourse  rendered 
Hadifah  furious.  "  Contemptible  sheik  !  Dog  of  a  traitor !  " 
he  exclaimed.  "  What !  Must  I  be  in  fear  of  Cais  and  the 
whole  tribe  of  the  Absians  ?  By  the  faith  of  an  Arab,  I  will 
let  all  men  of  honor  know  that  if  Cais  refuse  to  send  the  camels 
I  will  not  leave  one  of  his  tents  standing."  The  sheik  was  in- 
dignant, and  to  increase  the  fear  he  would  cast  into  the  heart 
of  Hadifah  he  spoke  to  him  in  verses,  to  the  following  effect : 
"  Insult  is  cowardliness,  for  it  takes  by  surprise  him  who  is  not 
expecting  it,  as  the  night  enwraps  those  who  wander  in  the 
desert.  When  the  sword  shall  once  be  drawn  look  out  for 
blows.  Be  just  and  do  not  clothe  thyself  with  dishonor.  En- 
quire of  those  who  know  the  fate  of  Themond  and  his  tribe, 
when  they  committed  acts  of  rebellion  and  tyranny.  They 
will  tell  you  that  a  command  of  God  from  on  high  destroyed 
them  in  one  night,  and  on  the  morrow  they  lay  scattered  on 
the  ground,  their  eyes  turned  towards  the  sky." 

Hadifah  dissembled  his  contempt  for  these  verses  and  the 
sheik  who  had  pronounced  them,  but  he  ordered  his  son  to  go 
at  once  to  Cais.  Abou-Firacah  started  for  the  tribe  of  Abs, 
and  as  soon  as  he  arrived  there  repaired  to  the  home  of  Cais, 


48  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

who  was  absent.  The  messenger  asked  then  for  his  wife, 
ModeHlah,  the  daughter  of  Rebia.  "  What  do  you  desire  of 
my  husband?  "  she  asked.  "  I  demand  my  due,  the  prize  of 
the  horse  race."  "  Misfortune  take  you  and  that  which  you 
demand,"  she  repHed.  "  Son  of  Hadifah !  Do  you  not  fear 
the  consequences  of  such  perfidy  ?  If  Cais  were  here  he  would 
send  you  to  your  death,  instantly."  Abou-Firacah  returned  to 
his  father,  to  whom  he  told  all  that  the  wife  of  Cais  had  said. 
"  What,  you  coward,"  shouted  Hadifah,  "  do  you  come  back 
without  completing  your  errand?  Are  you  afraid  of  the 
daughter  of  Rebia?     Go  to  him  again." 

As  Abou-Firacah  reminded  his  father  that  it  was  now  near 
night-fall,  the  message  was  postponed  until  the  next  day.  As 
for  Cais,  when  he  re-entered  his  home,  he  learned  from  his 
wife  that  Abou-Firacah  had  come  to  ask  for  the  camels.  "  By 
the  faith  of  an  Arab,"  he  said,  "  if  I  had  been  here  I  would  have 
slain  him.  But  the  matter  is  closed ;  let  us  think  no  more  of 
it."  Yet  King  Cais  passed  the  night  in  grief  and  annoyance 
until  sunrise,  at  which  time  he  betook  himself  to  his  tent. 
Antar  came  to  see  him.  Cais  rose,  and  making  him  take  a 
seat,  mentioned  the  name  of  Hadifah.  "  Would  you  believe 
he  had  the  shamelessness  to  send  his  son  to  demand  the 
camels  of  me?  Ah,  if  I  had  been  present  I  would  have  slain 
the  messenger."  Scarcely  had  he  finished  uttering  these 
words  when  Abou-Firacah  presented  himself  on  horseback. 
Without  dismounting,  and  uttering  no  word  of  salutation  or 
preface,  he  said :  "  Cais,  my  father  desires  that  you  send  him 
that  which  is  his  due ;  by  so  doing  your  conduct  will  be  that 
of  a  generous  man ;  but  if  you  refuse,  my  father  will  come 
against  you,  carry  off  his  property  by  force,  and  plunge  you 
into  misfortune." 

On  hearing  these  words  Cais  felt  the  light  change  to  darkness 
before  his  eyes.  "  O  thou  son  of  a  vile  coward,"  he  exclaimed, 
"  how  is  it  that  you  are  not  more  respectful  in  your  address  to 
me  ?  "  He  seized  a  javelin  and  plunged  it  into  the  breast  of 
Abou-Firacah.  Pierced  through,  the  young  messenger  lost 
control  of  his  horse. — Antar  dragged  him  down  and  flung  him 
on  the  ground.  Then,  turning  the  horse's  head  away  from  the 
direction  of  Fazarah,  he  struck  him  on  the  flank  with  a  holly- 
stick,  and  the  horse  took  the  road  towards  the  pastures,  and 
finally  entered  his  stable,  all  covered  with  blood.     The  shep- 


THE   ABSIANS   AND    FAZAREANS  43 

herds  at  once  led  him  to  the  tents,  crying  out,  "  Misfortune ! 
Misfortune !  " 

Hadifah  became  furious.  He  smote  upon  his  breast,  repeat- 
ing the  words :  "  Tribe  of  Fazarah,  to  arms,  to  arms,  to 
arms !  "  and  all  the  disaffected  came  to  Hadifah  once  more, 
begging  him  to  declare  war  on  the  Absians,  and  to  take  ven- 
geance on  them.  "  Kinsmen !  "  replied  Hadifah,  with  alacrity, 
"  let  none  of  us  sleep  to-night  without  our  armor  on."  And 
so  it  happened. 

At  break  of  day  Hadifah  was  on  horseback ;  the  warriors 
were  ready,  and  only  women  and  children  and  the  feeble  were 
left  in  the  tents.  Cais,  on  the  other  hand,  after  slaying  Abou- 
Firacah,  expected  that  the  Fazareans  would  come  and  attack 
himself  and  his  warriors ;  he  therefore  prepared  for  battle. 
Antar  was  charged  with  taking  the  necessary  reconnoitre.  He 
left  in  the  tents  only  women,  children,  and  those  too  feeble  to 
bear  the  sword ;  then  he  put  himself  in  command  of  the  heroes 
of  Carad.  Nothing  could  be  more  brilliant  than  the  ranks  of 
the  Absians  in  their  coats  of  mail  and  gleaming  weapons. 
These  preparations  caused  an  anxious  moment  for  both  par- 
ties. They  marched  forth  against  each  other,  and  the  sun  had 
scarcely  appeared,  before  scimitars  flashed,  and  the  whole 
country  was  in  a  turmoil. 

Antar  was  impatient  to  press  forward,  and  satisfy  his  thirst 
for  battle  ;  but,  lo  !  Hadifah,  dressed  in  a  black  robe,  advances, 
his  heart  broken  by  the  death  of  his  son.  "  Son  of  Zoheir,"  he 
cried  to  Cais,  "  it  is  a  base  action  to  slay  a  child ;  but  it  is  good 
to  meet  in  battle,  to  decide  with  these  lances  which  shall  pre- 
dominate, you  or  me."  These  words  cut  Cais  to,  the  quick. 
Hurried  along  by  passion  he  left  his  standard  and  rushed 
against  Hadifah.  Then  the  two  chiefs,  spurred  on  by  mutual 
hatred,  fought  together  on  their  noble  chargers,  until  night- 
fall. Cais  was  mounted  on  Dahir,  and  Hadifah  on  Ghabra. 
In  the  course  of  this  combat  the  exploits  of  the  past  were 
eclipsed.  Each  tribe  despaired  of  his  chieftain's  safety,  and 
they  were  eager  to  make  a  general  attack,  in  order  to  stop  the 
struggle  of  the  chieftains  and  the  fury  with  which  they  con- 
tended. Cries  began  to  be  heard  in  the  air.  Scimitars  were 
drawn,  and  lances  advanced  over  the  ears  of  Arabian  chargers. 
Antar  approached  certain  Absian  chiefs  and  said,  "  Let  us  at- 
tack the  traitors."     He  prepared  to  charge,  when  the  ancients 


44  THE  ROMANCE  OF  ANTAR 

of  the  two  tribes  came  forth  into  the  middle  of  the  plain,  with 
heads  uncovered,  their  feet  bared,  and  their  idols  hung  from 
their  shoulders.  Standing  between  the  two  armies  they  spoke 
as  follows :  "  Kinsmen  and  allies,  in  the  name  of  that  harmony 
which  has  hitherto  prevailed  among  us,  let  us  do  nothing  that 
will  make  us  the  byword  of  our  slaves.  Let  us  not  furnish  our 
enemies  with  ground  for  reproaching  us.  Let  us  forget  all 
matter  of  dispute  and  dissension.  Let  us  not  turn  wives  into 
widows  and  our  children  into  orphans.  Satisfy  your  warlike 
ardor  by  attacking  those  among  the  Arabs  who  are  your  real 
foes ;  and  you,  kinsmen  of  Fazarah,  show  yourselves  more 
humble  and  less  haughty,  towards  your  brethren  the  Absians. 
Above  all,  forget  not  that  insolent  wrong  has  often  caused  the 
destruction  of  many  tribes,  which  have  had  sore  reason  to  re- 
gret their  impious  actions ;  in  this  way  many  men  have  been 
deprived  of  their  possessions,  and  a  vast  number  been  plunged 
into  the  gulf  of  despair  and  regret.  Expect  the  fatal  hour  of 
death,  the  day  of  dissolution,  for  it  is  upon  you.  You  will  be 
rent  asunder  by  the  threatening  eagles  of  destruction,  and  en- 
closed in  the  dark  prison-house  of  the  tomb.  Take  care,  that 
when  your  bodies  are  separated  from  life,  men  may  think  about 
you  without  any  other  memory  than  that  of  your  virtues." 

The  sheiks  talked  together  for  a  long  time,  and  meanwhile 
the  flame  of  passion  which  had  been  kindled  in  the  soul  of  the 
two  heroes,  Cais  and  Hadifah,  became  quenched.  Hadifah 
withdrew  from  the  fight,  and  it  was  agreed  that  Cais  should 
pay  as  the  price  of  Abou-Firacah's  blood  a  quantity  of  cattle 
and  a  string  of  camels.  The  sheiks  did  not  wish  even  then  to 
quit  the  field  of  battle  until  Cais  and  Hadifah  embraced  each 
other  and  had  agreed  to  all  the  arrangements.  Antar  was 
crimson  with  rage.  "  O  King  Cais,"  he  exclaimed,  "  what 
have  you  done  ?  What !  while  our  swords  flash  in  our  hands 
shall  the  tribe  of  Fazarah  exact  a  price  for  the  blood  of  its  dead  ? 
And  we  never  be  able  to  obtain  retaliation  excepting  with  our 
spear  points!  The  blood  of  our  dead  is  shed,  and  shall  we 
n-ot  avenge  it?  "  Hadifah  was  beside  himself  on  hearing  these 
words.  "  And  you,  vile  bastard,"  said  Antar  to  him,  "  you 
son  of  a  vile  mother,  must  your  honor  be  purchased  at  the  ex- 
pense of  our  disgrace?  But  for  the  presence  of  these  noble 
sheiks  I  would  annihilate  you  and  all  your  people  this  very 
instant." 


THE   ABSIANS    AND    FAZAREANS  45 

Then  Hadifah's  indignation  and  anger  overleaped  all 
bounds.  "  By  the  faith  of  an  Arab,"  he  said  to  the  sheiks,  "  I 
wish  to  hear  no  talk  of  peace  at  the  moment  that  the  enemy  is 
ready  to  spear  me."  "  Do  not  talk  in  that  way,  dear  son  of 
my  mother,"  said  Haml  to  his  brother.  "  Do  not  dart  away 
on  the  path  of  imprudence  ;  abandon  these  gloomy  resolutions. 
Remain  in  peace  with  the  allies  of  the  Absians,  for  they  are 
shining  stars :  the  burnished  sun  that  guides  all  Arabs  who  love 
glory.  It  was  but  the  other  day  that  you  wronged  them  by 
causing  the  horse  Dahir  to  be  wounded,  and  thus  erred  from 
the  path  of  justice.  As  for  your  son,  he  was  justly  slain,  for 
you  had  sent  him  to  demand  something  that  was  not  due  you. 
After  all,  nothing  is  so  proper  as  to  make  peace,  for  he  who 
would  seek  and  stir  up  war  is  a  tyrant,  and  an  oppressor.  Ac- 
cept therefore  the  compensation  offered  you,  or  you  are  likely 
to  call  up  around  us  a  fire  which  will  burn  us  in  the  flames  of 
hell."  Haml  concluded  with  verses  of  the  following  import : 
"  By  the  truth  of  him  who  has  rooted  firm  the  mountains,  with- 
out foundations,  if  you  decline  to  accept  the  compensation 
oflfered  by  the  Absians,  you  are  in  the  wrong.  They  acknowl- 
edge Hadifah  as  their  chief ;  be  a  chief  in  very  deed,  and  be 
content  with  the  cattle  and  camels  offered  you.  Dismount 
from  the  horse  of  outrage,  and  mount  it  not  again,  for  it  will 
carry  you  to  the  sea  of  grief  and  calamity.  Hadifah,  renounce 
like  a  generous  man,  all  violence,  but  particularly  the  idea  of 
contending  with  the  Absians.  Make  of  them  and  of  their 
leader  a  powerful  rampart  against  the  enemies  that  may  attack 
us.  Make  of  them  friends  that  will  remain  faithful,  for  they 
are  men  of  the  noblest  intentions.  Such  are  the  Absians,  and 
if  Cais  has  acted  unjustly  towards  you,  it  is  you  who  first  set 
him  the  example  some  days  ago." 

When  Haml  finished  these  verses,  the  chiefs  of  the  different 
tribes  thanked  him,  and  Hadifah  having  consented  to  accept 
the  compensation  offered,  all  the  Arabs  renounced  violence 
and  war.  All  who  carried  arms  remained  at  home.  Cais  sent 
to  Hadifah  two  hundred  camels,  six  men-slaves,  ten  women- 
slaves,  and  ten  horses.  Thus  peace  was  reestablished  and 
every  one  rested  in  tranquillity  throughout  the  land. 


SELECTIONS  FROM  ARABIAN  POETRY 

[Translation  by  J.  D.  Carlyle] 


INTRODUCTION 

THE  essential  qualities  of  Arabian  poetry  appear  in  the 
"  Romance  of  Antar,"  and  the  tales  of  the  "  Thousand 
and  One  Nights."  For  such  a  blending  of  prose  and 
verse  is  the  favorite  form  of  Arabian  literature  in  its  highest 
and  severest  form,  even  in  the  drama.  But  the  character  of 
the  people  is  most  clearly  shown  in  the  lyrical  poems  of  the 
Bedouin  country.  The  pastoral  poetry  of  the  peninsula  is  so 
local  in  its  allusions  that  it  cannot  adequately  be  translated 
into  English.  It  is  in  the  lyrics  that  we  find  that  "  touch  of 
nature  which  makes  the  whole  world  kin."  The  gorgeous- 
ness  of  Hindoo  literature,  with  its  lavish  description  of  jew- 
elry and  gold,  precious  stones  and  marbles,  hideous  demons, 
and  mighty  gods,  is  not  to  be  looked  for  in  Arabia.  There 
the  horizon  is  clear,  and  the  plain  has  nothing  but  human 
occupants.  The  common  passions  of  men  are  the  only  pow- 
ers at  work;  love,  war,  sorrow,  and  wine,  are  the  subjects 
of  these  little  songs,  some  of  which  might  have  been  written 
by  "  Anacreon  "  Moore,  and  others  by  Catullus.  The  influ- 
ence of  Greek  poetry  is  indeed  manifest  in  these  light  and 
sometimes  frivolous  eflfusions.  The  sweetness  and  grace 
which  distinguish  some  are  only  equalled  by  the  wit  of  others. 
For  wit  is  the  prevailing  characteristic  of  Arabian  poetry, 
which  is  attractive  for  its  cleverness,  its  brightness,  the  alter- 
nate smiles  and  tears  which  shine  through  it,  and  make  the 
present  selections  so  refreshing  and  interesting  a  revelation  of 
the  national  heart  and  intellect. 

I  use  the  word  refreshing,  because  some  of  the  imagery  of 
these  lyrics  is  new  to  me,  and  quite  unparalleled  in  European 
literature.  What  can  be  more  novel,  and  at  the  same  time 
more  charming  than  the  following  simile,  with  which  a  short 
elegy  concludes : — 

"  But  though  in  dust  thy  relics  He, 
Thy  virtues,  Mano,  ne'er  shall  die; 

Vol.  IVa.— 4  49 


50  SELECTIONS    FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY 

Though  Nile's  full  stream  be  seen  no  more, 
That  spread  his  waves  from  shore  to  shore, 
Still  in  the  verdure  of  the  plain 
His  vivifying  smiles  remain." 

The  praise  of  a  humble  lot  has  been  sung  from  Hafiz  to 
Horace,  but  never  illustrated  by  a  prettier  conceit  than  the 
Arabic  poet  has  recourse  to  in  this  stanza : — 

"  Not  always  wealth,  not  always  force 
A  splendid  destiny  commands; 
The  lordly  vulture  gnaws  the  corse 
That  rots  upon  yon  barren  sands. 

"  Nor  want  nor  weakness  still  conspires 
To  bind  us  to  a  sordid  state; 
The  fly  that  with  a  touch  expires, 
Sips  honey  from  the  royal  plate." 

This  is  undoubtedly  a  very  original  way  of  stating  the 
philosophic  axiom  of  the  Augustan  poet, 

"  The  lord  of  boundless  revenues, 
Do  not  salute  as  happy." 

I  have  spoken  of  the  wit  of  these  verses,  which  is  certainly 
one  of  their  distinguishing  qualities.  It  is  quite  Attic  in  its 
flavor  and  exquisitely  delicate  in  its  combined  good-humor  and 
freedom  from  rancor.  An  epigram,  according  to  the  old  defi- 
nition, should  be  like  a  bee ;  it  should  carry  the  sweetness  of 
honey,  although  it  bears  a  sting  at  the  end.  Sometimes  the 
end  has  a  point  which  does  not  sting,  as  in  the  following  quat- 
rain of  an  Arabic  poet: — 

"  When  I  sent  you  my  melons,  you  cried  out  with  scorn, 
They  ought  to  be  heavy  and  wrinkled  and  yellow; 
When   I  offered  myself,  whom  those  graces  adorn, 
You  flouted,  and  called  me  an  ugly  old  fellow." 

Martial  himself  could  not  have  excelled  the  wit  of  an  epi- 
gram addressed  to  a  very  little  man  who  wore  a  very  big  beard, 
which  thus  concludes : — 

**  Surely  thou  cherishest  thy  beard 
In  hope  to  hide  thyself  behind  it." 


INTRODUCTION  51 

To  study  a  literature  like  that  of  the  Arabians,  even  partially 
and  in  a  translation,  is  one  of  those  experiences  which  enlarge 
and  stimulate  the  mind  and  expand  its  range  of  impressions 
with  a  distinctly  elevating  and  liberalizing  effect.  It  has  the 
result  of  genuine  education,  in  that  it  increases  our  capacity 
for  sympathy  for  other  peoples,  making  us  better  acquainted 
with  the  language  in  which  they  reveal  that  common  human 
heart  which  they  share  with  us.  E.  W. 


SELECTIONS 
FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY 


AN   ELEGY  1 

Those  dear  abodes  which  once  contain'd  the  fair, 

Amidst  Mitata's  wilds  I  seek  in  vain, 
Nor  towers,  nor  tents,  nor  cottages  are  there. 

But  scatter'd  ruins  and  a  silent  plain. 

The  proud  canals  that  once  Rayana  grac'd, 
Their  course  neglected  and  their  waters  gone, 

Among  the  level'd  sands  are  dimly  trac'd, 

Like  moss-grown  letters  on  a  mouldering  stone. 

Rayana  say,  how  many  a  tedious  year 

Its  hallow'd  circle  o'er  our  heads  hath  roll'd. 

Since  to  my  vows  thy  tender  maids  gave  ear, 
And  fondly  listened  to  the  tale  I  told? 

How  oft,  since  then,  the  star  of  spring,  that  pours 
A  never-failing  stream,  hath  drench'd  thy  head? 

How  oft,  the  summer  cloud  in  copious  showers 
Or  gentle  drops  its  genial  influence  shed? 

How  oft  since  then,  the  hovering  mist  of  morn 

Hath  caus'd  thy  locks  with  glittering  gems  to  glow? 

How  oft  hath  eve  her  dewy  treasures  borne 
To  fall  responsive  to  the  breeze  below? 

>  The  author  of  this  poem  was  a  na-  vanced  age.     This  elegy,  as  is  evident, 

tive  of  Yemen.     He  was  contemporary  was    written    previous    to    Lebid's    con- 

with   Mohammed   and   was   already  cele-  version  to  Islamism.     Its  subject  is  one 

brated   as  a   poet   when   the  prophet   be-  that    must    be    ever    interesting    to    the 

gan  to  promulgate  his  doctrines.     Lebid  feeling    mind — the    return    of    a    person 

embraced  Islamism  and  was  one  of  the  after  a  long  absence  to  the  place  of  his 

most    aggressive    helpers    in    its    estab-  birth— in    fact    it    is   the    Arabian    "  De- 

lishment.     He  fixed  his  abode  in  the  city  serted  Village." 
of   Cufa,   where   he   died   at   a  very   ad- 

53 


54  SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY 

The  matted  thistles,  bending  to  the  gale, 

Now  clothe  those  meadows  once  with  verdure  gay ; 

Amidst  the  windings  of  that  lonely  vale 
The  teeming  antelope  and  ostrich  stray. 

The  large-eyed  mother  of  the  herd  that  flies 
Man's  noisy  haunts,  here  finds  a  sure  retreat. 

Here  watches  o'er  her  young,  till  age  supplies 

Strength  to  their  limbs  and  swiftness  to  their  feet. 

Save  where  the  swelling  stream  hath  swept  those  walls 
And  giv'n  their  deep  foundations  to  the  light 

(As  the  retouching  pencil  that  recalls 
A  long-lost  picture  to  the  raptur'd  sight). 

Save  where  the  rains  have  wash'd  the  gather'd  sand 
And  bared  the  scanty  fragments  to  our  view, 

(As  the  dust  sprinkled  on  a  punctur'd  hand 
Bids  the  faint  tints  resume  their  azure  hue). 

No  mossy  record  of  those  once  lov'd  seats 
Points  out  the  mansion  to  inquiring  eyes  ; 

No  tottering  wall,  in  echoing  sounds,  repeats 
Our  mournful  questions  and  our  bursting  sighs. 

Yet,  midst  those  ruin'd  heaps,  that  naked  plain, 
Can  faithful  memory  former  scenes  restore, 

Recall  the  busy  throng,  the  jocund  train. 
And  picture  all  that  charm'd  us  there  before. 

Ne'er  shall  my  heart  the  fatal  morn  forget 

That  bore  the  fair  ones  from  these  seats  so  dear— 

I  see,  I  see  the  crowding  litters  yet, 
And  yet  the  tent-poles  rattle  in  my  ear. 

I  see  the  maids  with  timid  steps  descend. 

The  streamers  wave  in  all  their  painted  pride. 

The  floating  curtains  every  fold  extend, 

And  vainly  strive  the  charms  within  to  hide. 

What  graceful  forms  those  envious  folds  enclose ! 

What  melting  glances  thro'  those  curtains  play! 
Sure  Weira's  antelopes,  or  Tudah's  roes 

Thro'  yonder  veils  their  sportive  young  survey! 


SELECTIONS    FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY  55 

The  band  mov'd  on — to  trace  their  steps  I  strove, 
I  saw  them  urge  the  camel's  hastening  flight, 

Till  the  white  vapor,  like  a  rising  grove, 

Snatch'd  them  forever  from  my  aching  sight. 

Nor  since  that  morn  have  I  Nawara  seen, 

The  bands  are  burst  which  held  us  once  so  fast, 

Memory  but  tells  me  that  such  things  have  been, 
And  sad  Reflection  adds,  that  they  are  past. 

Lebid  Ben  Rabiat  Alamary. 


THE  TOMB   OF   MANO 

Friends  of  my  heart,  who  share  my  sighs  1 
Go  seek  the  turf  where  Mano  lies, 
And  woo  the  dewy  clouds  of  spring, 
To  sweep  it  with  prolific  wing. 

Within  that  cell,  beneath  that  heap, 
Friendship  and  Truth  and  Honor  sleep. 
Beneficence,  that  used  to  clasp 
The  world  within  her  ample  grasp. 

There  rests  entomb'd — of  thought  bereft — 
For  were  one  conscious  atom  left 
New  bliss,  new  kindness  to  display, 
'Twould  burst  the  grave,  and  seek  the  day. 

But  tho'  in  dust  thy  relics  lie. 
Thy  virtues,  Mano,  ne'er  shall  die; 
Tho'  Nile's  full  stream  be  seen  no  more, 
That  spread  his  waves  from  shore  to  shore. 
Still  in  the  verdure  of  the  plain 
His  vivifying  smiles  remain. 

Hassan  Alasady. 


56  SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN   POETRY 


TOMB  OF  SAYID* 

Blest  are  the  tenants  of  the  tomb! 

With  envy  I  their  lot  survey ! 
For  Sayid  shares  the  solemn  gloom, 

And  mingles  with  their  mouldering  clay. 

Dear  youth!    I'm  doom'd  thy  loss  to  mourn 
When  gathering  ills  around  combine; 

And  whither  now  shall  Malec  turn, 
Where  look  for  any  help  but  thine? 

At  this  dread  moment  when  the  foe 

My  life  with  rage  insatiate  seeks. 
In  vain  I  strive  to  ward  the  blow. 

My  buckler  falls,  my  sabre  breaks. 

Upon  thy  grassy  tomb  I  knelt, 

And  sought  from  pain  a  short  relief — 

Th'  attempt  was  vain — I  only  felt 
Intenser  pangs  and  livelier  grief. 

The  bud  of  woe  no  more  represt, 

Fed  by  the  tears  that  drench'd  it  there, 

Shot  forth  and  fill'd  my  laboring  breast 
Soon  to  expand  and  shed  despair. 

But  tho'  of  Sayid  I'm  bereft, 

From  whom  the  stream  of  bounty  came, 

Sayid  a  nobler  meed  has  left — 
Th'  exhaustless  heritage  of  fame. 

Tho'  mute  the  lips  on  which  I  hung, 
Their  silence  speaks  more  loud  to  me 

Than  any  voice  from  mortal  tongue, 
"  What  Sayid  was  let  Malec  be." 

Abd  Almalec  Alharithy. 

*  Abd  Almalec  was  a  native  of  Arabia  duction  is  taken  from  the  Hamasa  it  is 
Felix.  The  exact  period  when  he  most  probable  that  he  was  anterior  to 
flourished   is  unknown,   but  as  this  pro-         Mohammedanism. 


SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY  57 


ON   THE   DEATH   OF   HIS    MISTRESS* 

Dost  thou  wonder  that  I  flew 

Charm'd  to  meet  my  Leila's  view? 

Dost  thou  wonder  that  I  hung 

Raptur'd  on  my  Leila's  tongue? 

If  her  ghost's  funereal  screech 

Thro'  the  earth  my  grave  should  reach. 

On  that  voice  I  lov'd  so  well 

My  transported  ghost  would  dwell: — 

If  in  death  I  can  descry 

Where  my  Leila's  relics  lie, 

Saher's  dust  will  flee  away, 

There  to  join  his  Leila's  clay. 

Abu  Saher  Alhedily. 


ON  AVARICE* 

How  frail  are  riches  and  their  joys? 
Mom  builds  the  heap  which  eve  destroys; 
Yet  can  they  have  one  sure  delight — 
The  thought  that  we've  employ'd  them  right. 

What  bliss  can  wealth  afford  to  me 
When  life's  last  solemn  hour  I  see, 
When  Mavia's  sympathizing  sighs 
Will  but  augment  my  agonies? 

Can  hoarded  gold  dispel  the  gloom 
That  death  must  shed  around  his  tomb? 
Or  cheer  the  ghost  which  hovers  there, 
And  fills  with  shrieks  the  desert  air? 

•  The  sentiment  contained  in  this  pro-  mulgation  of  Mohammedanism.  He 
duction  determines  its  antiquity.  It  was  has  been  so  much  celebrated  through 
the  opinion  of  the  Pagan  Arabs  that  the  East  for  his  generosity  that  even 
upon  the  death  of  any  person  a  bird,  to  this  day  the  greatest  encomium 
by  them  called  Manah,  issued  from  his  which  can  be  given  to  a  generous  man 
brain,  which  haunted  the  sepulchre  of  is  to  say  that  he  is  as  liberal  as  Hatem. 
the  deceased,  uttering  a  lamentable  Hatem  was  also  a  poet;  but  his  talents 
scream.  were  principally  exerted  in  recommend- 

*  Hatem    Tai    was    an    Arabian    chief,  ing  his  favorite  virtue, 
who  lived  a  short  time  prior  to  the  pro- 


58  SELECTIONS  FROM  ARABIAN   POETRY. 

What  boots  it,  Mavia,  in  the  grave, 
Whether  I  lov'd  to  waste  or  save? 
The  hand  that  millions  now  can  grasp, 
In  death  no  more  than  mine  shall  clasp. 

Were  I  ambitious  to  behold 
Increasing  stores  of  treasur'd  gold. 
Each  tribe  that  roves  the  desert  knows 
I  might  be  wealthy  if  I  chose: — 

But  other  joys  can  gold  impart, 
Far  other  wishes  warm  my  heart — 
Ne'er  may  I  strive  to  swell  the  heap. 
Till  want  and  woe  have  ceas'd  to  weep. 

With  brow  unalter'd  I  can  see 

The  hour  of  wealth  or  poverty : 

I've  drunk  from  both  the  cups  of  fate. 

Nor  this  could  sink,  nor  that  elate. 

With  fortune  blest,  I  ne'er  was  found 
To  look  with  scorn  on  those  around ; 
Nor  for  the  loss  of  paltry  ore. 
Shall  Hatem  seem  to  Hatem  poor. 

Hatem  Ted. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  SABLA» 

Sabla,  thou  saw'st  th'  exulting  foe 

In  fancied  triumphs  crown'd; 
Thou  heard'st  their  frantic  females  throw 

These  galling  taunts  around: — 

"  Make  now  your  choice — the  terms  we  give, 

Desponding  victims,  hear; 
These  fetters  on  your  hands  receive, 

Or  in  your  hearts  the  spear." 

^  This  poem  and  the  one  following  it  Arabian  clans,  and  of  the  rancor  with 

are   both   taken   from   the   Hamasa   and  which   they   pursued   each   other,    when 

afford  curious  instances  of  the  animos-  once  at  variance. 
ity  which  prevailed  amongst  the  several 


SELECTIONS    FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY  59 

"  And  is  the  conflict  o'er,"  we  cried, 

"  And  lie  we  at  your  feet? 
And  dare  you  vauntingly  decide 

The  fortune  we  must  meet? 

"  A  brighter  day  we  soon  shall  see, 

Tho'  now  the  prospect  lowers. 
And  conquest,  peace,  and  liberty 

Shall  gild  our  future  hours." 

The  foe  advanc'd: — in  firm  array 

We  rush'd  o'er  Sabla's  sands. 
And  the  red  sabre  mark'd  our  way 

Amidst  their  yielding  bands. 

Then,  as  they  writh'd  in  death's  cold  grasp, 

We  cried,  "  Our  choice  is  made, 
These  hands  the  sabre's  hilt  shall  clasp. 

Your  hearts  shall  have  the  blade." 

Jaafer  Ben  Alba. 


VERSES  TO   MY  ENEMIES 

Why  thus  to  passion  give  the  rein? 

Why  seek  your  kindred  tribe  to  wrong? 
Why  strive  to  drag  to  light  again 

The  fatal  feud  entomb'd  so  long? 

Think  not,  if  fury  ye  display. 

But  equal  fury  we  can  deal ; 
Hope  not,  if  wrong'd,  but  we  repay 

Revenge  for  every  wrong  we  feel. 

Why  thus  to  passion  give  the  rein? 

Why  seek  the  robe  of  peace  to  tear? 
Rash  youths  desist,  your  course  restrain, 

Or  dread  the  wrath  ye  blindly  dare. 

Yet  friendship  we  not  ask  from  foes. 
Nor  favor  hope  from  you  to  prove, 
We  lov'd  you  not,  great  Allah  knows, 
Nor  blam'd  you  that  ye  could  not  love. 


6o  SELECTIONS   FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY 

To  each  are  different  feelings  given, 

This  slights,  and  that  regards  his  brother; 

'Tis  ours  to  live — thanks  to  kind  heav'n — 
Hating  and  hated  by  each  other. 

Alfadhel  Ibn  Alahas. 


ON  HIS  FRIENDS  « 

With  conscious  pride  I  view  the  band 
Of  faithful  friends  that  round  me  stand, 
With  pride  exult  that  I  alone 
Can  join  these  scatter'd  gems  in  one: — 
For  they're  a  wreath  of  pearls,  and  I 
The  silken  cord  on  which  they  lie. 

'Tis  mine  their  inmost  souls  to  see, 
Unlock'd  is  every  heart  to  me. 
To  me  they  cling,  on  me  they  rest, 
And  I've  a  place  in  every  breast: — 
For  they're  a  wreath  of  pearls,  and  I 
The  silken  cord  on  which  they  lie. 

Me  skin  Aldaramy. 


ON   TEMPERS 

Yes,  Leila,  I  swore  by  the  fire  of  thine  eyes, 
I  ne'er  could  a  sweetness  unvaried  endure; 

The  bubbles  of  spirit,  that  sparkling  arise. 
Forbid  life  to  stagnate  and  render  it  pure. 

But  yet,  my  dear  maid,  tho'  thy  spirit's  my  pride, 
I'd  wish  for  some  sweetness  to  temper  the  bowl; 

If  life  be  ne'er  suffer'd  to  rest  or  subside, 
It  may  not  be  flat,  but  I  fear  'twill  be  foul. 

Nabegat  Beni  J  aid. 

"  These  lines  are  also  from  the  Hamasa.  the  fortieth  year  of  the  Hegira,  aged  one 
'  There     have    been    several     Arabian  hundred  and  twenty,  he  must  have  been 
poets    of    the    name    of    Nabegat.      The  fourscore  at  the  promulgation  of  Islam- 
author    of    these    verses    was    descended  ism;    he,    however,    declared   himself   an 
from  the  family  of  Jaid.    As  he  died  in  early  convert  to  the  new  faith. 


SELECTIONS    FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY)  6i 


THE  SONG  OF  MAISUNA' 

The  russet  suit  of  camel's  hair. 
With  spirits  light,  and  eye  serene, 

Is  dearer  to  my  bosom  far 

Than  all  the  trappings  of  a  queen. 

The  humble  tent  and  murmuring  breeze 
That  whistles  thro'  its  fluttering  wall. 

My  unaspiring  fancy  please 

Better  than  towers  and  splendid  halls. 

Th'  attendant  colts  that  bounding  fly 
And  frolic  by  the  litter's  side, 

Are  dearer  in  Maisuna's  eye 

Than  gorgeous  mules  in  all  their  pride. 

The  watch-dog's  voice  that  bays  whene'er 
A  stranger  seeks  his  master's  cot, 

Sounds  sweeter  in  Maisuna's  ear 

Than  yonder  trumpet's  long-drawn  note. 

The  rustic  youth  unspoilt  by  art, 
Son  of  my  kindred,  poor  but  free. 

Will  ever  to  Maisuna's  heart 

Be  dearer,  pamper'd  fool,  than  thee. 


TO   MY   FATHERS 

Must  then  my  failings  from  the  shaft 

Of  anger  ne'er  escape  ? 
And  dost  thou  storm  because  I've  quaflf'd 

The  water  of  the  grape? 

•  Maisuna  was  a  daughter  of  the  tribe  Caliphate    a.h.    6o;    and    in    most 

«f  Calab;  a  tribe,  according  to  Abulfeda,  spects   showed   himself  to  be  of  a  very 

remarkable  both  for  the  purity  of  dialect  dififerent  disposition  from   his  predeces- 

spoken    in    it,    and   for   the    number    of  sor.    He  was  naturally  cruel,  avaricious, 

poets   it   had   produced.     She   was   mar-  and  debauched;  but  instead  of  conceal- 

ried,    whilst   very   young,   to  the   Caliph  ing  his   vices  from  the  eyes  of  his  sub- 

Mowiah.     But  this  exalted   situation   by  jects,    he    seemed    to   make   a   parade   o1 

no  means  suited  the  disposition  of  Mai-  those   actions   which   he  knew  no   good 

suna,    and    amidst    all     the    pomp    and  Mussulinan    could     look    upon     without 

splendor    of    Damascus,    she    languished  horror;    he    drank    wine    in    public,    he 

for  the   simple   pleasures  of  her   native  caressed  his  dogs,  and  was  waited  upon 

desert.  by   his  eunuchs   in    sight  of   the   whole 

"  Yezid     succeeded     Mowiah     in     the  court. 


6a  SELECTIONS    FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY, 

That  I  can  thus  from  wine  be  driv'n 

Thou  surely  ne'er  canst  think — 
Another  reason  thou  hast  giv'n 

Why  I  resolve  to  drink. 

*Twas  sweet  the  flowing  cup  to  seize, 

'Tis  sweet  thy  rage  to  see; 
And  first  I  drink  myself  to  please; 

And  next — to  anger  thee. 

Yezid. 

ON  FATALISM  i"> 

Not  always  wealth,  not  always  forte 

A  splendid  destiny  commands; 
The  lordly  vulture  gnaws  the  corse 

That  rots  upon  yon  barren  sands. 

Nor  want,  nor  weakness  still  conspires 

To  bind  us  to  a  sordid  state ; 
The  fly  that  with  a  touch  expires 

Sips  honey  from  the  royal  plate. 

Imam  Shafay  Mohammed  Ben  Idris. 

TO  THE   CALIPH   HARUN-AL-RASHID " 

Religion's  gems  can  ne'er  adorn 
The  flimsy  robe  by  pleasure  worn ; 
Its  feeble  texture  soon  would  tear. 
And  give  those  jewels  to  the  air. 

Thrice  happy  they  who  seek  th'  abode 
Of  peace  and  pleasure,  in  their  God ! 
Who  spurn  the  world,  its  joys  despise, 
And  grasp  at  bliss  beyond  the  skies. 

Ibrahim  Ben  Adham. 

i«  Shafay,   the  founder  of  one  of  the  to  tradition  in  their  interpretations  of 

four  orthodox  sects  into  which  the  Mo-  the  Koran,  the  Hanifites  consider  thetn- 

hammedans  are  divided,  was  a  disciple  selves  as  at  liberty  in  any  difficulty  to 

of     Malek     Ben     Ans,     and     master    to  make  use  of  their  own  reason. 

Ahmed    Ebn    Hanbal;    each    of    whom,  "The    author    of    this    poem    was    a 

like    himself,    founded    a    sect    which    is  hermit   of   Syria,    equally  celebrated  for 

still  denominated  from  the  name  of  its  his  talents  and  piety.     He  was  son  to  a 

author.    The  fourth  sect  is  that  of  Abou  prince    of    Khorasan,    and    born    about 

Hanifah.       This    differs    in    tenets    con-  the   ninety-seventh  year  of  the   Hegira. 

sidcrably    from    the    three    others,    for  This  poem  was  addressed  to  the  Caliph 

whilst  the  Malekites,  the  Shafaites,  and  upon   his  undertaking  a  pilgrimage  to 

the    Hanbalites   are   invariably   bigoted  Mecca. 


SELECTIONS    FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY  63 


LINES  TO  HARUN  AND  YAHIA" 

Th'  affrighted  sun  ere  while  he  fled, 
And  hid  his  radiant  face  in  night ; 
A  cheerless  gloom  the  world  o'erspread— 
But  Harun  came,  and  all  was  bright. 

Again  the  sun  shoots  forth  his  rays, 
Nature  is  deck'd  in  beauty's  robe — 
For  mighty  Harun's  sceptre  sways, 
And  Yahia's  arm  sustains  the  globe. 

Isaac  Almousely. 


THE   RUIN   OF   BARMECIDES" 

No,  Barmec!    Time  hath  never  shown 
So  sad  a  change  of  wayward  fate; 

Nor  sorrowing  mortals  ever  known 
A  grief  so  true,  a  loss  so  great. 

Spouse  of  the  world !    Thy  soothing  breast 
Did  balm  to  every  woe  afford; 

And  now  no  more  by  thee  caress'd, 
The  widow'd  world  bewails  her  Lord. 


TO   TAKER   BEN   HOSIEN** 

A  pair  of  right  hands  and  a  single  dim  eye 
Must  form  not  a  man,  but  a  monster,  they  cry : — 
Change  a  hand  to  an  eye,  good  Taher,  if  you  can. 
And  a  monster  perhaps  may  be  chang'd  to  man. 

"Isaac  Almousely  is  considered  by  of  Persia,  and  possessed  immense  prop- 
the  Orientals  as  the  most  celebrated  mu-  ertv  in  various  countries;  they  derived 
sician  that  ever  flourished  in  the  world.  still  more  consequence  from  the  favor 
He  was  born  in  Persia,  but  having  re-  which  they  enjoyed  at  the  court  of  Bag- 
sided  almost  entirely  at  Mousel,  he  is  dad,  where,  for  many  years,  they  filled 
generally  supposed  to  have  been  a  native  the  highest  offices  of  the  state  with  uni- 
of  that  place.  versal  approbation. 

"  The    family   of    Barmec    was   one   of  i*  Taher   Ben   Hosien   was   ambidexter 

the  most  illustrious  in  the  East.     They  and   one-eyed   and,   strange  to   say,   the 

were  descended  from  the  ancient  kings  most  celebrated  general  of  his  time. 


64  SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN    POETRV; 


THE  ADIEU" 

The  boatmen  shout,  "  'Tis  time  to  part. 

No  longer  we  can  stay  " — 
*Twas  then  Maimuna  taught  my  heart 

How  much  a  glance  could  say. 

^ith  trembling  steps  to  me  she  came; 

"  Farewell,"  she  would  have  cried, 
But  ere  her  lips  the  word  could  frame 

In  half-form'd  sounds  it  died. 

S'hen  bending  down  with  looks  of  love. 

Her  arms  she  round  me  flung, 
feVnd,  as  the  gale  hangs  on  the  grove. 

Upon  my  breast  she  hung. 

My  willing  arms  embrac'd  the  maid, 

My  heart  with  raptures  beat; 
While  she  but  wept  the  more  and  said, 

"  Would  we  had  never  met !  " 

Abou  Mohammed, 

TO  MY  MISTRESS" 

Ungenerous  and  mistaken  maid. 
To  scorn  me  thus  because  I'm  poor! 

Canst  thou  a  liberal  hand  upbraid 

For  dealing  round  some  worthless  ore? 

fTo  spare  's  the  wish  of  little  souls. 

The  great  but  gather  to  bestow ; 
Yon  current  down  the  mountain  rolls. 

And  stagnates  in  the  swamp  below. 

Abou  Teman  Habib. 

"  This    was   sung    before   the    Caliph  and  ordering  him  a  present  of  an  hun- 

Wathek,    by   Abou   Mohammed,   a   mu-  dred  thousand  dirhems. 

sician  of  Bagdad,  as  a  specimen  of  his  i"  Abou  Teman  is  considered  the  most 

musical   talents;   and    such   were   its   ef-  sxcellent  of  all  the  Arabian  poets.     He 

fects    upon    the    Caliph,    that    he    imme-  was   born  near   Damascus  a.h.    190,   and 

diately  testified   his  approbation  of  the  educated    in    Egypt;    but   the   principal 

performance  by  throwing  his  own  robe  part   of   his   life   was   spent   at   Bagdad, 

over  the  shoulders  of  Abou  Mohammed,  under    the    patronage   of    the    Abasside 

Caliphs. 


SELECTIONS   FROM  ARABIAN   POETRY  65 


TO  A   FEMALE  CUP-BEARER*^ 

Come,  Leila,  fill  the  goblet  up, 

Reach  round  the  rosy  wine. 
Think  not  that  we  will  take  the  cup 

From  any  hand  but  thine. 

A  draught  like  this  'twere  vain  to  seek, 

No  grape  can  such  supply; 
It  steals  its  tint  from  Leila's  cheek, 

Its  brightness  from  her  eye. 

Abd  Alsalam  Ben  Ragban. 


MASHDUD  ON  THE  MONKS  OF  KHABBET" 

Tenants  of  yon  hallow'd  fane! 

Let  me  your  devotions  share, 
There  increasing  raptures  reign — 

None  are  ever  sober  there. 

Crowded  gardens,  festive  bow«rs 
Ne'er  shall  claim  a  thought  of  mine; 

You  can  give  in  Khabbet's  towers — 
Purer  joys  and  brighter  wine. 

Tho'  your  pallid  faces  prove 

How  you  nightly  vigils  keep, 
'Tis  but  that  you  ever  love 

Flowing  goblets  more  than  sleep. 

Tho'  your  eye-balls  dim  and  sunk 

Stream  in  penitential  guise, 
'Tis  but  that  the  wine  you've  drunk 

Bubbles  over  from  your  eyes. 

"  Abd    Alsalam   was   a    poet   more   re-  236th    year    of    the    Hegira,    aged    near 

marknble    for    abilities    than      morality.  eighty. 

W'r  mav  form   an   idea  of  the   nature  of  '*  The     three     following     songs     were 

his  coftipositions  from  the  nickname  he  written  by  Mashdud,  Rakeek,  and  Rais, 

acquired  amongst  his  contemporaries  of  three  of  the  most  celebrated  improvisa- 

Cock  of  the  Evil  Genii.     He  died  in  the  tors    in    Bagdad,    at     an    entertainment 


given  by  Abou  Isy. 


Vol.  IVfl.— 5 


66  SELECTIONS  FROM   ARABIAN   POETRY 


RAKEEK  TO  HIS  FEMALE  COMPANIONS 

Tho'  the  peevish  tongues  upbraid, 
Tho'  the  brows  of  wisdom  scowl. 

Fair  ones  here  on  roses  laid, 

Careless  will  we  quaff  the  bowl. 

Let  the  cup,  with  nectar  crown'd, 
Thro'  the  grove  its  beams  display. 

It  can  shed  a  lustre  round, 
Brighter  than  the  torch  of  day. 


Let  it  pass  from  hand  to  hand. 
Circling  still  with  ceaseless  flight. 

Till  the  streaks  of  gray  expand 
O'er  the  fleeting  robe  of  night. 

As  night  flits,  she  does  but  cry, 

"  Seize  the  moments  that  remain  "— 

Thus  our  joys  with  yours  shall  vie. 
Tenants  of  yon  hallow'd  fanel 


DIALOGUE  BY  RAIS 

Rais 

Maid  of  sorrow,  tell  us  why 

Sad  and  drooping  hangs  thy  head? 

Is  it  grief  that  bids  thee  sigh? 
Is  it  sleep  that  flies  thy  bed? 


Lady 

Ah!   I  mourn  no  fancied  wound, 

Pangs  too  true  this  heart  have  wrung, 

Since  the  snakes  which  curl  around 
Selim's  brows  my  bosom  stung. 


SELECTIONS    FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY  67 

Destin'd  now  to  keener  woes, 

I  must  see  the  youth  depart, 
He  must  go,  and  as  he  goes 

Rend  at  once  my  bursting  heart. 

Slumber  may  desert  my  bed, 

Tis  not  slumber's  charms  I  seek— 

*rTis  the  robe  of  beauty  spread 
D'er  my  Selim's  rosy  cheek. 


TO  A   LADY   WEEPING  !• 

When  I  beheld  thy  blue  eyes  shine 
Thro'  the  bright  drop  that  pity  drew, 

I  saw  beneath  those  tears  of  thine 
A  blue-ey'd  violet  bath'd  in  dew. 

The  violet  ever  scents  the  gale, 

Its  hues  adorn  the  fairest  wreath, 
But  sweetest  thro'  a  dewy  veil 

Its  colors  glow,  its  odors  breathe. 

And  thus  thy  charms  in  brightness  rise — 
When  wat  and  pleasure  round  thee  play. 

When  mirth  sits  smiling  in  thine  eyes, 
Who  but  admires  their  sprightly  ray? 

But  when  thro'  pity's  flood  they  gleam, 

Who  but  must  love  their  soften'd  beam  ? 

Ebn  Alrumi. 


ON   A   VALETUDINARIAN 

So  careful  is  Isa,  and  anxious  to  last, 

So  afraid  of  himself  is  he  grown, 
He  swears  thro'  two  nostrils  the  breath  goes  too  fast, 

And  he's  trying  to  breathe  thro'  but  one. 

Ehn  Alrumi. 

^  Ebn  Alrumi  is  reckoned  by  the  birth  a  Syrian,  and  passed  the  greatest 
Arabian  writers  as  one  of  the  most  ex-  part  of  his  time  at  Emessa,  where  he 
cellent  of  all  their  poets.     He  was   by       died  a.h.  283. 


68  SELECTIONS    FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY, 


ON  A  MISER 

"  Hang  her,  a  thoughtless,  wasteful  fool, 
She  scatters  corn  where'er  she  goes  " — 

Quoth  Hassan,  angry  at  his  mule, 
That  dropt  a  dinner  to  the  crows. 

Ebn  Alrumu 


TO  CASSIM  OBIO  ALLAH  2" 

Poor  Cassim !   thou  art  doom'd  to  mourn 

By  destiny's  decree ; 
Whatever  happens  it  must  turn 

To  misery  for  thee. 

Two  sons  hadst  thou,  the  one  thy  pride, 

The  other  was  thy  pest ; 
Ah,  why  did  cruel  death  decide 

To  snatch  away  the  best? 

No  wonder  thou  shouldst  droop  with  woe. 

Of  such  a  child  bereft ; 
But  now  thy  tears  must  doubly  flow. 

For,  ah !   the  other's  left. 

Aly  Ben  Ahmed  Ben  Mansour, 


A  FRIEND'S   BIRTHDAY" 

When  born,  in  tears  we  saw  thee  drown'd. 
While  thine  assembled  friends  around. 

With  smiles  their  joy  confest ; 
So  live,  that  at  thy  parting  hour. 
They  may  the  flood  of  sorrow  pour, 

And  thou  in  smiles  be  drest ! 

**  Aly  Ben  Ahmed  distinguished  him-  ence   to    him    whether   an    enemy   or   a 

self  in  prose  as  well  as  poetry,  and  an  brother  smarted  under  its  severity.     He 

historical   work   of   considerable   reputa-  died  at  Bagdad  a.h.  3o>. 

tion,    of   which    he    was    the   author,    is  "  The     thought     contained     in     these 

still  extant.     But  he  principally  excelled  lines,  appears  so  natiirnl  and  so  obvious, 

in  satire,  and  so  fond  was  he  of  indulg-  that  one  wonders  it  did  not  occur  to  all 

ing  this  dangerous   talent   that   no   one  who    have    attempted    to    write    upon    a 

escaped  his  lash;  if  he  could  only  bring  birthday  or  a  death, 
out  a  sarcasm,  it  was  matter  of  indifTer- 


SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY  69 


TO  A  CAT 

Poor  Puss  is  gone!     Tis  fate's  decree — 

Yet  I  must  still  her  loss  deplore, 
For  dearer  than  a  child  was  she, 

And  ne'er  shall  I  behold  her  more. 

With  many  a  sad  presaging  tear 

This  morn  I  saw  her  steal  away. 
While  she  went  on  without  a  fear 

Except  that  she  should  miss  her  prey. 

I  saw  her  to  the  dove-house  climb, 
With  cautious  feet  and  slow  she  stept 

Resolv'd  to  balance  loss  of  time 
By  eating  faster  than  she  crept. 

Her  subtle  foes  were  on  the  watch, 

And  mark'd  her  course,  with  fury  fraught. 

And  while  she  hoped  the  birds  to  catch. 
An  arrow's  point  the  huntress  caught. 

In  fancy  she  had  got  them  all, 

And  drunk  their  blood  and  suck'd  their  breath; 
Alas !   she  only  got  a  fall, 

And  only  drank  the  draught  of  death. 

Why,  why  was  pigeons'  flesh  so  nice, 

That  thoughtless  cats  should  love  it  thus? 

Hadst  thou  but  liv'd  on  rats  and  mice. 
Thou  hadst  been  living  still,  poor  Puss. 

Curst  be  the  taste,  howe'er  refined, 

That  prompts  us  for  such  joys  to  wish, 

And  curst  the  dainty  where  we  find 
Destruction  lurking  in  the  dish. 

Ibn  Alalaf  Alnaharwany. 


7©  SELECTIONS   FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY 


AN>  EPIGRAM  UPON   EBN  NAPHTA-WAH « 

By  the  former  with  ruin  and  death  we  are  curst, 
In  the  latter  we  grieve  for  the  ills  of  the  first ; 
And  as  for  the  whole,  where  together  they  meet. 
It's  a  drunkard,  a  liar,  a  thief,  and  a  cheat. 

Mohammed  Ben  Zeid  Almotakalam. 


FIRE  " 
'A  Riddle. 

The  loftiest  cedars  I  can  eat. 

Yet  neither  paunch  nor  mouth  have  I, 
I  storm  whene'er  you  give  me  meat, 

Whene'er  you  give  me  drink,  I  die. 


TO  A  LADY  BLUSHING  2* 

Leila,  whene'er  I  gaze  on  thee 

My  alter'd  cheek  turns  pale, 
While  upon  thine,  sweet  maid,  I  see 

A  deep'ning  blush  prevail. 

Leila,  shall  I  the  cause  impart 
Why  such  a  change  takes  place? 

The  crimson  stream  deserts  my  heart, 
To  mantle  on  thy  face. 

The  Caliph  Radhi  Billah. 

«*  Mohammed    Ben    Arfa,    here   called  standing  its  absurdity,   however.     It  is 

Naphta-Wah,    was    descended    from    a  inserted  merely  to  show  that  this  mode 

noble  family  in   Khorasan.     He  applied  of    trifling    was    not    unknown    to    the 

himself  to  study  with  indefatigable  per-  Orientals.     It  is  taken  from  the  Mosta- 

severance,   and   was   a   very   voluminous  traf,    where   a   great    number   of    similar 

author  in  several  branches  of  literature,  productions  on  various  subjects  are  pre- 

but  he  is  chiefly  distinguished  as  a  gram-  served. 

marian.      He   died    in   the    year    of   the  24  Radhi  Billah,  son  to  Moctader,  was 

Hegira  323.  the    twentieth    Caliph    of    the   house   of 

**  This   composition    seems   a   fit   sup-  Abbas,  and  the  last  of  these  princes  who 

plement  to  the  preceding  one;  notwith-  possessed  any  substantial  power. 


SELECTIONS    FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY,  71 


ON   THE  VICISSITUDES  OF  LIFE 

Mortal  joys,  however  pure, 

Soon  their  turbid  source  betray; 
Mortal  bliss,  however  sure, 

Soon  must  totter  and  decay. 

Ye  who  now,  with  footsteps  keen, 
Range  through  hope's  delusive  field. 

Tell  us  what  the  smiling  scene 
To  your  ardent  grasp  can  yield  ? 

Other  youths  have  oft  before 

Deem'd  their  joys  would  never  fade, 

Till  themselves  were  seen  no  more 
Swept  into  oblivion's  shade. 

Who,  with  health  and  pleasure  gay. 

E'er  his  fragile  state  could  know. 
Were  not  age  and  pain  to  say 

Man  is  but  the  child  of  woe? 

The  Caliph  Radhi  Billah. 


TO  A  DOVE 

The  Dove  to  ease  an  aching  breast. 
In  piteous  murmurs  vents  her  cares; 

Like  me  she  sorrows,  for  opprest, 
Like  me,  a  load  of  grief  she  bears. 

Her  plaints  are  heard  in  every  wood, 
While  I  would  fain  conceal  my  woes; 

But  vain's  my  wish,  the  briny  flood, 
The  more  I  strive,  the  faster  flows. 

Sure,  gentle  Bird,  my  drooping  heart 
Divides  the  pangs  of  love  with  thine, 

And  plaintive  murm'rings  are  thy  part, 
And  silent  grief  and  tears  are  mine. 

Serage  Alwarak. 


72  SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN   POETRY 


ON  A  THUNDER  STORM 

Bright  smil'd  the  morn,  till  o'er  its  head 
The  clouds  in  thicken'd  foldings  spread 

A  robe  of  sable  hue; 
Then,  gathering  round  day's  golden  king, 
They  stretch'd  their  wide  o'ershadowing  wing. 

And  hid  him  from  our  view. 

The  rain  his  absent  beams  deplor'd, 
And,  soften'd  into  weeping,  pour'd 

Its  tears  in  many  a  flood; 
The  lightning  laughed  with  horrid  glare ; 
The  thunder  growl'd,  in  rage;  the  air 

In  silent  sorrow  stood. 

Ibrahim  Ben  Khiret  Abou  Isaac. 


TO   MY   FAVORITE    MISTRESS 

I  saw  their  jealous  eyeballs  roll, 

I  saw  them  mark  each  glance  of  mine, 

I  saw  thy  terrors,  and  my  soul 

Shar'd  ev'ry  pang  that  tortur'd  thine. 

In  vain  to  wean  my  constant  heart, 
Or  quench  my  glowing  flame,  they  strove ; 

Each  deep-laid  scheme,  each  envious  art. 
But  wak'd  my  fears  for  her  I  love. 

Twas  this  compell'd  the  stern  decree, 
That  forc'd  thee  to  those  distant  towers, 

And  left  me  nought  but  love  for  thee, 
To  cheer  my  solitary  hours. 

Yet  let  not  Abla  sink  deprest, 

Nor  separation's  pangs  deplore; 
We  meet  not — 'tis  to  meet  more  blest; 

We  parted — 'tis  to  part  no  more. 

Saif  Addanlet,  Sultan  of  Aleppo. 


SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY  73 


CRUCIFIXION  OF  EBN   BAKIAH" 

Whate'er  thy  fate,  in  life  and  death, 
Thou'rt  doom'd  above  us  still  to  rise, 

Whilst  at  a  distance  far  beneath 
We  view  thee  with  admiring  eyes. 

The  gazing  crowds  still  round  thee  throng, 
Still  to  thy  well-known  voice  repair, 

As  when  erewhile  thy  hallow'd  tongue 
Pour'd  in  the  Mosque  the  solemn  prayer. 

Still,  generous  Vizir,  we  survey 
Thine  arms  extended  o'er  our  head. 

As  lately,  in  the  festive  day, 

When  they  were  stretch'd  thy  gifts  to  shed. 

Earth's  narrow  boundaries  strove  in  vain 

To  limit  thy  aspiring  mind, 
And  now  we  see  thy  dust  disdain 

Within  her  breast  to  be  confin'd. 

The  earth's  too  small  for  one  so  great. 

Another  mansion  thou  shalt  have — 
The  clouds  shall  be  thy  winding  sheet, 

The  spacious  vault  of  heaven  thy  grave. 

Abou  Hassan  Alanbary. 


CAPRICES   OF   FORTUNE" 

Why  should  I  blush  that  Fortune's  frown 
Dooms  me  life's  humble  paths  to  tread? 

To  live  unheeded,  and  unknown? 
To  sink  forgotten  to  the  dead? 

■»  Ebn  Bakiah  was  vizir  to  Azzad  Ad-  Shems  Almaali  Cabus.     He  is  described 

daulet    or    Bachteir,    Emir    Alomra    of  as  possessed  of  almost  every  virtue  and 

Bagdad,  under  the  Caliphs  Moti   Lillah  every    accomplishment:    his    piety,    jus- 

and    Tay    Lillah:    but    Azzad    Addaulet  tice,  generosity,  and  humanity,  are  uni- 

being  deprived  of  his  office,  and  driven  versally  celebrated;  nor  was  he  less  con- 

from    Bagdad   bv   Adhed    Addaulet,   Sul-  spicuous     for     intellectual     powers;     his 

tan   of   Persia,    Ebn    Bakiah   was   seized  genius   was   at   once   penetrating,    solid, 

and  crucified  at  the  gates  of  the  city,  by  and  brilliant,  and  he  distinguished  him- 

order  of  the  conqueror.  self  equally  as  an  orator,  a  philosopher, 

»•  History    can    show   few    princes    so  and  a  poet, 
amiable     and    few     so    unfortunate     as 


74  SELECTIONS    FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY. 

'Tis  not  the  good,  the  wise,  the  brave, 
That  surest  shine,  or  highest  rise; 

The  feather  sports  upon  the  wave, 
The  pearl  in  ocean's  cavern  lies. 

Each  lesser  star  that  studs  the  sphere 

Sparkles  with  undiminish'd  light: 
Dark  and  eclips'd  alone  appear 

The  lord  of  day,  the  queen  of  night. 

Shems  Almaali  Cabus. 


ON  LIFE 

Like  sheep,  we're  doom'd  to  travel  o'er 
The  fated  track  to  all  assign'd, 

These  follow  those  that  went  before. 
And  leave  the  world  to  those  behind. 

As  the  flock  seeks  the  pasturing  shade, 
Man  presses  to  the  future  day, 

While  death,  amidst  the  tufted  glade. 
Like  the  dun  robber,*  waits  his  prey. 


EXTEMPORE  VERSES" 

Lowering  as  Barkaidy's  face 

The  wintry  night  came  in, 
Cold  as  the  music  of  his  bass, 

And  lengthen'd  as  his  chin. 

Sleep  from  my  aching  eyes  had  fled, 

And  kept  as  far  apart, 
As  sense  from  Ebn  Fahdi's  head, 

Or  virtue  from  his  heart. 

^  The  occasion  of  the  following  com-  poet  to  give  a  specimen  of  his  talents, 

position    is    thus    related    by    Abulfeda.  which  at  the  same  time  should  convey 

Carawash,  Sultan  of  Mousel,  being  one  a  satire  upon  the  three  courtiers,  and  a 

wintry    evening   engacied    in    a   party   of  compliment   to   himself.      Ebn   Alramac- 

pleasure     along     with     Barkaidy,     Ebn  ram   took   his  subject   from   the   stormy 

Fahdi,   Abou  Jaber,  and   the  improvisa-  appearance    of     the    night,    and     imme- 

tore    poet,    Ebn    Alramacram,    resolved  diately  produced  these  verses, 

to   divert   himself  at   the  expense  of  his  *  The  wolf, 
companions.     He  therefore  ordered  the 


SELECTIONS    FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY  75 

The  dubious  paths  my  footsteps  balk'd, 

I  shpp'd  along  the  sod, 
As  if  on  Jaber's  faith  I'd  walk'd. 

Or  on  his  truth  had  trod. 

At  length  the  rising  King  of  day 

Burst  on  the  gloomy  wood, 
Like  Carawash's  eye,  whose  ray 

Dispenses  every  good. 

Ebn  Alramacratn. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  SON" 

Tyrant  of  man!     Imperious  Fate! 

I  bow  before  thy  dread  decree, 
Nor  hope  in  this  uncertain  state 

To  find  a  seat  secure  from  thee. 

Life  is  a  dark,  tumultuous  stream. 
With  many  a  care  and  sorrow  foul, 

Yet  thoughtless  mortals  vainly  deem 
That  it  can  yield  a  limpid  bowl. 

Think  not  that  stream  will  backward  flow, 
Or  cease  its  destin'd  course  to  keep ; 

As  soon  the  blazing  spark  shall  glow 
Beneath  the  surface  of  the  deep. 

Believe  not  Fate  at  thy  command 
Will  grant  a  meed  she  never  gave; 

As  soon  the  airy  tower  shall  stand. 
That's  built  upon  a  passing  wave. 

Life  is  a  sleep  of  threescore  years. 

Death  bids  us  wake  and  hail  the  light, 

And  man,  with  all  his  hopes  and  fears, 
Is  but  a  phantom  of  the  night. 

Aly  Ben  Mohammed  Altahmany. 

*•  Aly  Ben  Mohammed  was  a  native  of  that  part  of  Arabia  called  Hejaz;  and 
celebrated  not  only  as  a  poet,  but  as  a  politician. 


76  SELECTIONS   FROM  ARABIAN    POETRY- 


TO  LEILA 

Leila,  with  too  successful  art, 

Has  spread  for  me  love's  cruel  snare; 

And  now,  when  she  has  caught  my  heart. 
She  laughs,  and  leaves  it  to  despair. 

Thus  the  poor  sparrow  pants  for  breath, 

Held  captive  by  a  playful  boy, 
And  while  it  drinks  the  draught  of  death. 

The  thoughtless  child  looks  on  with  joy. 

Ah!    were  its  flutt'ring  pinions  free. 

Soon  would  it  bid  its  chains  adieu. 
Or  did  the  child  its  suff'rings  see, 

He'd  pity  and  relieve  them  too. 

ON   MODERATION   IN   OUR   PLEASURES" 

How  oft  does  passion's  grasp  destroy 
The  pleasure  that  it  strives  to  gain? 

How  soon  the  thoughtless  course  of  joy 
Is  doom'd  to  terminate  in  pain? 

When  prudence  would  thy  steps  delay. 
She  but  restrains  to  make  thee  blest; 

Whate'er  from  joy  she  lops  away. 
But  heightens  and  secures  the  rest. 

Wouldst  thou  a  trembling  flame  expand. 

That  hastens  in  the  lamp  to  die? 
With  careful  touch,  with  sparing  hand. 

The  feeding  stream  of  life  supply.  ^ 

But  if  thy  flask  profusely  sheds 

A  rushing  torrent  o'er  the  blaze, 
Swift  round  the  sinking  flame  it  spreads. 

And  kills  the  fire  it  fain  would  raise. 

Abou  Alcassim  Ebn  Tabataba. 

«» Tabataba  deduced  his  pedigree  from  descendants  of  the   Prophet,   a  dignity 

Ali   Ben   Abou  Taleb,   and   Fatima,   the  held  in  the  highest  veneration  by  every 

daughter  of  Mohammed.     He  was  born  Mussulman.      He    died    in    the    year    of 

at     Ispahan,    but    passed    the    principal  the    Hegira   418,    with   the   reputation   of 

part  of  his  life  in  Egypt,  where  he  was  being  one  of  the  most  excellent  poets  of 

appointed  chief  of  the  sheriffs,  i.  e.  the  his  time. 


SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY  77 


THE  VALE   OF   BOZAA'* 

The  intertwining  boughs  for  thee 
Have  wove,  sweet  dell,  a  verdant  vest, 

And  thou  in  turn  shalt  give  to  me 
A  verdant  couch  upon  thy  breast. 

To  shield  me  from  day's  fervid  glare 
Thine  oaks  their  fostering  arms  extend. 

As  anxious  o'er  her  infant  care 
I've  seen  a  watchful  mother  bend. 

A  brighter  cup,  a  sweeter  draught, 

I  gather  from  that  rill  of  thine, 
Than  maddening  drunkards  ever  quaff'd. 

Than  all  the  treasures  of  the  vine. 

So  smooth  the  pebbles  on  its  shore, 

That  not  a  maid  can  thither  stray, 
But  counts  her  strings  of  jewels  o'er, 

And  thinks  the  pearls  have  slipp'd  away. 

Ahmed  Ben  Yousef  Almenasy. 


TO  ADVERSITY" 

Hail,  chastening  friend  Adversity!    'Tis  thine 
The  mental  ore  to  temper  and  refine. 
To  cast  in  virtue's  mould  the  yielding  heart, 
And  honor's  polish  to  the  mind  impart. 
Without  thy  wakening  touch,  thy  plastic  aid, 
I'd  lain  the  shapeless  mass  that  nature  made; 
But  form'd,  great  artist,  by  thy  magic  hand, 
I  gleam  a  sword  to  conquer  and  command. 

Ahou  Menhaa  Carawash. 

*  Ben  Yousef  for  many  years  acted  as  *'  The  life  of  this  prince  was  check- 
vizir  to  Abou  Nasser,  Sultan  of  Diar-  ered  with  various  adventures;  he  was 
beker.     His  political   talents   are   much  perpetually   engaged    in   contests   either 

C raised,    and     he    is     particularly    cele-  with  the  neighboring  sovereigns,  or  the 

rated     for    the    address    he     displayed  princes  of  his  own  family.     After  many 

while   upon   an    embassy   to    the    Greek  struggles  he   was  obliged   to  submit  to 

Emperor    at    Constantinople.      Yousef's  his   brother,    Abou    Camel,    who    imme- 

poetry  must  be  looked   upon  merely  as  diately  ordered   him   to   be   seized,   and 

a  jeu  d'esprit  suggested  by  the  beauties  conveyed  to  a  place  of  security, 
of    the    vale    of    Bozaa,    as    he    passed 
through  it. 


78  SELECTIONS   FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY 


ON    THE   INCOMPATIBILITY   OF    PRIDE   AND 
TRUE  GLORY  32 

Think  not,  Abdallah,  pride  and  fame 

Can  ever  travel  hand  in  hand; 
With  breast  oppos'd,  and  adverse  aim, 

On  the  same  narrow  path  they  stand. 

Thus  youth  and  age  together  meet, 
And  Hfe's  divided  moments  share; 

This  can't  advance  till  that  retreat. 
What's  here  increas'd,  is  lessen'd  there. 

And  thus  the  falling  shades  of  night 

Still  struggle  with  the  lucid  ray, 
And  e'er  they  stretch  their  gloomy  flight 

Must  win  the  lengthen 'd  space  from  day. 

Abou  Alola. 

THE  DEATH  OF  NEDHAM  ALMOLK 

Thy  virtues  fam'd  thro'  every  land. 
Thy  spotless  life,  in  age  and  youth, 

Prove  thee  a  pearl,  by  nature's  hand, 
Form'd  out  of  purity  and  truth. 

Too  long  its  beams  of  Orient  light 
Upon  a  thankless  world  were  shed; 

Allah  has  now  reveng'd  the  slight, 
And  call'd  it  to  its  native  bed. 

Shebal  Addaulet. 

LINES  TO  A  LOVER 

When  you  told  us  our  glances  soft,  timid  and  mild. 
Could  occasion  such  wounds  in  the  heart. 

Can  ye  wonder  that  yours,  so  ungovern'd  and  wild, 
Some  wounds  to  our  cheeks  should  impart? 

"  Abou  Alola  is  esteemed  as  one  of  deter  him  from  the  pursuit  of  literature. 
the  most  excellent  of  the  Arabian  poets.  Abou  Alola  died  at  Miara  in  the  year 
He   was   born    blind,    but   this   did    not       449,  aged  eighty-six. 


SELECTIONS    FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY  79 

The  wounds  on  our  cheeks  are  but  transient,  1  own, 

With  a  blush  they  appear  and  decay ; 
But  those  on  the  heart,  fickle  youths,  ye  have  shown 

To  be  even  more  transient  than  they. 

IValadata. 


VERSES   TO   MY   DAUGHTERS '» 

With  jocund  heart  and  cheerful  brow 

I  used  to  hail  the  festal  morn — 
How  must  Mohammed  greet  it  now  ? — 

A  prisoner  helpless  and  forlorn. 

While  these  dear  maids  in  beauty's  bloom, 
With  want  opprest,  with  rags  o'erspread, 

By  sordid  labors  at  the  loom 

Must  earn  a  poor,  precarious  bread. 

Those  feet  that  never  touch'd  the  ground. 
Till  musk  or  camphor  strew'd  the  way, 

Now  bare  and  swoll'n  with  many  a  wound, 
Must  struggle  thro'  the  miry  clay. 

Those  radiant  cheeks  are  veil'd  in  woe, 
A  shower  descends  from  every  eye, 

And  not  a  starting  tear  can  flow, 
That  wakes  not  an  attending  sigh. 

Fortune,  that  whilom  own'd  my  sway. 

And  bow'd  obsequious  to  my  nod. 
Now  sees  me  destin'd  to  obey. 

And  bend  beneath  oppression's  rod. 

Ye  mortals  with  success  elate. 

Who  bask  in  hope's  delusive  beam, 

Attentive  view  Mohammed's  fate. 
And  own  that  bliss  is  but  a  dream. 

Mohammed  Bed  Ahad. 

**  Seville  was  one  of  those  small  sov-  For  thirty-three   years   he   reigned   over 

ereignties    into   which    Spain    had    been  Seville    and     the    neighboring     districts 

divided  after  the  extinction  of  the  house  with   considerable  reputation,   but  being 

of  Ommiah.     It  did  not  long  retain  its  attacked  by  Joseph,  son  to  the  Emperor 

independence,  and  the  only  prince  who  of  Morocco,  at  the  head  of  a  numerous 

ever  presided  over  it  as  a  separate  king-  army   of   Africans,   was   defeated,   taken 

dom    seems   to    have    been    Mohammed  prisoner,    and    thrown    into   a   dungeon, 

Ben  Abad,   the  author  of  these   verses.  where  he  died  in  the  year  488. 


8o 


SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY 


SERENADE   TO    MY    SLEEPING   MISTRESS" 

Sure  Harut's*  potent  spells  were  breath'd 
Upon  that  magic  sword,  thine  eye ; 

For  if  it  wounds  us  thus  while  sheath'd, 
When  drawn,  'tis  vain  its  edge  to  fly. 

How  canst  thou  doom  me,  cruel  fair, 
Plung'd  in  the  hell  f  of  scorn  to  groan  ? 

No  idol  e'er  this  heart  could  share, 
This  heart  has  worshipp'd  thee  alone. 

Aly  Ben  Ahd. 


THE  INCONSISTENT" 

When  I  sent  you  my  melons,  you  cried  out  with  scorn, 
They  ought  to  be  heavy  and  wrinkled  and  yellow ; 

When  I  offer'd  myself,  whom  those  graces  adorn, 
You  flouted,  and  call'd  me  an  ugly  old  fellow. 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  JERUSALEM" 

From  our  distended  eyeballs  flow 
A  mingled  stream  of  tears  and  blood ; 

No  care  we  feel,  nor  wish  to  know. 
But  who  shall  pour  the  largest  flood. 

But  what  defense  can  tears  afford  ? 

What  aid  supply  in  this  dread  hour? 
When  kindled  by  the  sparkling  sword 

Wars  raging  flames  the  land  devour. 


•*  This  author  was  by  birth  an  African; 
but  having  passed  over  to  Spain,  he  was 
much  patronized  by  Mohammed,  Sultan 
of  Seville.  After  the  fall  of  his  master, 
Ben  Abd  returned  to  Africa,  and  died  at 
Tangier,   a.h.   488. 

86  Written  to  a  lady  upon  her  refusal 
of  a  present  of  melons,  and  her  rejec- 
tion of  the  addresses  of  an  admirer. 

"  The  capture  of  Jerusalem  took  place 
in  the  492d  year  of  the  Hegira,  A.D.  1099. 
Alabiwerdy,    who    wrote     these    verses, 


was  a  native  of  Khorasan;  he  died  A.H. 
507. 

•  A  wicked  angel  who  is  permitted  to 
tempt  mankind  by  teaching  them  magic; 
see  the  legend  respecting  him  in  the 
Koran. 

t  The  poet  here  alludes  to  the  punish- 
ments denounced  in  the  Koran  against 
those  who  worship  a  plurality  of  Gods: 
"  their  couch  shall  be  in  hell,  and  over 
them  shall  be  coverings  of  fire." 


SELECTIONS    FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY  8i 

No  more  let  sleep's  seductive  charms 

Upon  your  torpid  souls  be  shed : 
A  crash  like  this,  such  dire  alarms, 

Might  burst  the  slumbers  of  the  dead. 

Think  where  your  dear  companions  lie — 
Survey  their  fate,  and  hear  their  woes — 

How  some  thro'  trackless  deserts  fly, 
Some  in  the  vulture's  maw  repose; 

While  some  more  wretched  still,  must  bear 
The  tauntings  of  a  Christian's  tongue — 

Hear  this — and  blush  ye  not  to  wear 
The  silken  robe  of  peace  so  long? 

Remember  what  ensanguin'd  showers 
The  Syrian  plains  with  crimson  dyed, 

And  think  how  many  blooming  flowers 
In  Syrian  forts  their  beauties  hide. 

Arabian  youths !     In  such  a  cause 

Can  ye  the  voice  of  glory  slight? 
Warriors  of  Persia !     Can  ye  pause, 

Or  fear  to  mingle  in  the  fight  ? 

If  neither  piety  nor  shame 

Your  breasts  can  warm,  your  souls  can  move, 
Let  emulation's  bursting  flame 

Wake  you  to  vengeance  and  to  love. 

Almodhafer  Alabiwerdy. 


TO  A  LADY 

No,  Abla,  no — when  Selim  tells 

Of  many  an  unknown  grace  that  dwells 

In  Abla's  face  and  mien, 
When  he  describes  the  sense  refin'd, 
That  lights  thine  eye  and  fills  thy  mind, 

By  thee  alone  unseen. 

'Tis  not  that  drunk  with  love  he  sees 
Ideal  charms,  which  only  please 

Thro'  passion's  partial  veil. 
Vol.  IVa.— 6 


S2  SELECTIONS    FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY 

'Tis  not  that  flattery's  glozing  tongue 
Hath  basely  fram'd  an  idle  song, 

But  truth  that  breath 'd  the  tale. 

Thine  eyes  unaided  ne'er  could  trace 
Each  opening  charm,  each  varied  grace, 

That  round  thy  person  plays ; 
Some  must  remain  conceal'd  from  thee, 
For  Selim's  watchful  eye  to  see, 

For  Selim's  tongue  to  praise. 

One  polish'd  mirror  can  declare 
That  eye  so  bright,  that  face  so  fair, 

That  cheek  which  shames  the  rose; 
But  how  thy  mantle  waves  behind. 
How  float  thy  tresses  on  the  wind. 

Another  only  shows. 


AN  EPIGRAM" 

Whoever  has  recourse  to  thee 

Can  hope  for  health  no  more, 
He's  launched  into  perdition's  sea, 

A  sea  without  a  shore. 

Where'er  admission  thou  canst  gain, 

Where'er  thy  phiz  can  pierce, 
At  once  the  Doctor  they  retain. 

The  mourners  and  the  hearse. 

George. 

ON  A  LITTLE  MAN  WITH  A  VERY  LARGE  BEARD 

How  can  thy  chin  that  burden  bear  ? 

Is  it  all  gravity  to  shock  ? 
Is  it  to  make  the  people  stare? 

And  be  thyself  a  laughing  stock  ? 

"  Written   to    Abou    Alchair   Selamu,  an  Egyptian  physician.    The  author  was 
a  physician  of  Antioch. 


SELECTIONS    FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY,  83 

When  I  behold  tliy  Httle  feet 

After  thy  beard  obsequious  run, 
I  always  fancy  that  I  meet 

Some  father  followed  by  his  son. 

A  man  like  thee  scarce  e'er  appear'd — 

A  beard  like  thine — where  shall  we  find  it? 

Surely  thou  cherishest  thy  beard 
In  hope  to  hide  thyself  behind  it. 

Isaac  Ben  Khalif. 


LAMIAT   ALAJEM^s 

No  kind  supporting  hand  I  meet, 
But  Fortitude  shall  stay  my  feet; 
No  borrow'd  splendors  round  me  shine, 
But  Virtue's  lustre  all  is  mine; 
A  Fame  unsulHed  still  I  boast, 
Obscur'd,  conceal'd,  but  never  lost — 
The  same  bright  orb  that  led  the  day 
Pours  from  the  West  his  mellow'd  ray. 

Zaura,  farewell!     No  more  I  see 
Within  thy  walls,  a  home  for  me; 
Deserted,  spurn'd,  aside  I'm  toss'd, 
As  an  old  sword  whose  scabbard's  lost: 
Around  thy  walls  I  seek  in  vain 
Some  bosom  that  will  soothe  my  pain- 
No  friend  is  near  to  breathe  relief, 
Or  brother  to  partake  my  grief. 
For  many  a  melancholy  day 
Thro'  desert  vales  I've  wound  my  way; 
The  faithful  beast,  whose  back  I  press, 
In  groans  laments  her  lord's  distress; 

•■  Abou  Tsmael  was  a  native  of  Ispa-  dition  to  afford   Abou   Ismael  any  pro- 

han.     He  devoted  himself  to  the  service  tection,     for,     being     attacked     by     his 

of    the    Seljuk    Sultans    of    Persia,    and  brother  Mahmoud,  he  was  defeated,  and 

enjoyed   the   confidence  of   Mnlec   Shah.  driven   from    Mousel,   and   upon   the  fall 

and  his  son   and   grandson.    Mohammed  of  his   master   the   vizir   was   seized    and 

and   Massoud,   by  the  last  of  whom   he  thrown  into  prison,  and  at  length  in  the 

was  raised  to  the  dignity  of  vizir.     Mas-  year  515  sentenced  to  be  put  to  death, 
scud,  however,  was  not  long  in  a  con- 


84  SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY 

In  every  quiv'ring  of  my  spear 
A  sympathetic  sigh  I  hear; 
The  camel  bending  with  his  load, 
And  struggling  thro'  the  thorny  road, 
'Midst  the  fatigues  that  bear  him  down, 
In  Hassan's  woes  forgets  his  own; 
Yet  cruel  friends  my  wand'rings  chide, 
My  sufferings  slight,  my  toils  deride. 

Once  wealth,  I  own,  engross'd  each  thought, 
There  was  a  moment  when  I  sought 
The  glitt'ring  stores  Ambition  claims 
To  feed  the  wants  his  fancy  frames; 
But  now  'tis  past — the  changing  day 
Has  snatch'd  my  high-built  hopes  away. 
And  bade  this  wish  my  labors  close — 
Give  me  not  riches,  but  repose. 
'Tis  he — that  mien  my  friend  declares, 
That  stature,  like  the  lance  he  bears; 
I  see  that  breast  which  ne'er  contain'd 
A  thought  by  fear  or  folly  stain'd. 
Whose  powers  can  every  change  obey, 
In  business  grave,  in  trifles  gay, 
And,  form'd  each  varying  taste  to  please, 
Can  mingle  dignity  with  ease. 

What,  tho'  with  magic  influence,  sleep. 
O'er  every  closing  eyelid  creep: 
Tho'  drunk  with  its  oblivious  wine 
Our  comrades  on  their  bales  recline. 
My  Selim's  trance  I  sure  can  break — 
Selim,  'tis  I,  'tis  I  who  speak. 
Dangers  on  every  side  impend, 
And  sleep'st  thou,  careless  of  thy  friend? 
Thou  sleep'st  while  every  star  on  high, 
Beholds  me  with  a  wakeful  eye — 
Thou  changest,  ere  the  changeful  night 
Hath  streak'd  her  fleeting  robe  with  white. 

'Tis  love  that  hurries  me  along — 
I'm  deaf  to  fear's  repressive  song — 


SELECTIONS   FROM  ARABIAN   POETRY  85 

The  rocks  of  Idham  I'll  ascend, 
Tho'  adverse  darts  each  path  defend, 
And  hostile  sabres  glitter  there, 
To  guard  the  tresses  of  the  fair. 

Come,  Selim,  let  us  pierce  the  grove. 
While  night  befriends,  to  seek  my  love. 
The  clouds  of  fragrance  as  they  rise 
Shall  mark  the  place  where  Abla  lies. 
Around  her  tent  my  jealous  foes, 
Like  lions,  spread  their  watchful  rows; 
Amidst  their  bands,  her  bow'r  appears 
Embosom'd  in  a  wood  of  spears — 
A  wood  still  nourish'd  by  the  dews, 
Which  smiles,  and  softest  looks  diffuse. 
Thrice  happy  youths !  who  midst  yon  shades 
Sweet  converse  hold  with  Idham's  maids, 
What  bliss,  to  view  them  gild  the  hours. 
And  brighten  wit  and  fancy's  powers. 
While  every  foible  they  disclose 
New  transport  gives,  new  graces  shows. 
'Tis  theirs  to  raise  with  conscious  art 
The  flames  of  love  in  every  heart; 
*Tis  yours  to  raise  with  festive  glee 
The  flames  of  hospitality: 
Smit  by  their  glances  lovers  lie. 
And  helpless  sink  and  hopeless  die; 
While  slain  by  you  the  stately  steed 
To  crown  the  feast,  is  doom'd  to  bleed, 
To  crown  the  feast,  where  copious  flows 
The  sparkling  juice  that  soothes  your  woes, 
That  lulls  each  care  and  heals  each  wound, 
As  the  enliv'ning  bowl  goes  round. 
Amidst  those  vales  my  eager  feet 
Shall  trace  my  Abla's  dear  retreat, 
A  gale  of  health  may  hover  there. 
To  breathe  some  solace  to  my  care. 
I  fear  not  love — I  bless  the  dart 
Sent  in  a  glance  to  pierce  the  heart: 
With  willing  breast  the  sword  I  hail 
That  wounds  me  thro'  an  half-clos'd  veil: 


86  SELECTIONS    FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY 

Tho'  lions  howling  round  the  shade, 
My  footsteps  haunt,  my  walks  invade, 
No  fears  shall  drive  me  from  the  grove, 
If  Abla  listen  to  my  love. 

Ah,  Selim!  shall  the  spells  of  ease 

Thy  friendship  chain,  thine  ardor  freeze! 

Wilt  thou  enchanted  thus,  decline 

Each  gen'rous  thought,  each  bold  design? 

Then  far  from  men  some  cell  prepare; 

Or  build  a  mansion  in  the  air — 

But  yield  to  us,  ambition's  tide. 

Who  fearless  on  its  waves  can  ride; 

Enough  for  thee  if  thou  receive 

The  scatter'd  spray  the  billows  leave. 

Contempt  and  want  the  wretch  await 

Who  slumbers  in  an  abject  state — 

'Midst  rushing  crowds,  by  toil  and  pain 

The  meed  of  Honor  we  must  gain ; 

At  Honor's  call,  the  camel  hastes 

Thro'  trackless  wilds  and  dreary  wastes, 

Till  in  the  glorious  race  she  find 

The  fleetest  coursers  left  behind: 

By  toils  like  these  alone,  he  cries, 

Th'  adventurous  youths  to  greatness  rise; 

If  bloated  indolence  were  fame. 

And  pompous  ease  our  noblest  aim, 

The  orb  that  regulates  the  day 

Would  ne'er  from  Aries'  mansion  stray. 

I've  bent  at  Fortune's  shrine  too  long — 
Too  oft  she  heard  my  suppliant  tongue — 
Too  oft  has  mock'd  my  idle  prayers, 
While  fools  and  knaves  engross'd  her  cares, 
Awake  for  them,  asleep  to  me, 
Heedless  of  worth  she  scorn'd  each  plea. 
Ah!  had  her  eyes,  more  just  survey'd 
The  difT'rent  claims  which  each  display'd, 
Those  eyes  from  partial  fondness  free 
Had  slept  to  them,  and  wak'd  for  me. 


SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY 

But,  'midst  my  sorrows  and  my  toils, 

Hope  ever  sooth'd  my  breast  with  smiles; 

Her  hand  remov'd  each  gathering  ill. 

And  oped  life's  closing  prospects  still. 

Yet  spite  of  all  her  friendly  art 

The  specious  scene  ne'er  gain'd  my  heart; 

I  lov'd  it  not  altho'  the  day 

Met  my  approach,  and  cheer'd  my  way; 

I  loath  it  now  the  hours  retreat, 

And  lly  me  with  reverted  feet. 

My  soul  from  every  tarnish  free 

May  boldly  vaunt  her  purity, 

But  ah,  how  keen,  however  bright. 

The  sabre  glitter  to  the  sight. 

Its  splendor's  lost,  its  polish  vain. 

Till  some  bold  hand  the  steel  sustain. 

Why  have  my  days  been  stretch'd  by  fate. 
To  see  the  vile  and  vicious  great — 
While  I,  who  led  the  race  so  long, 
Am  last  and  meanest  of  the  throng? 
Ah,  why  has  death  so  long  delay'd 
To  wrap  me  in  his  friendly  shade. 
Left  me  to  wander  thus  alone. 
When  all  my  heart  held  dear  is  gone! 

But  let  me  check  these  fretful  sighs — 
Well  may  the  base  above  me  rise, 
When  yonder  planets  as  they  run 
Mount  in  the  sky  above  the  sun. 
Resign'd  I  bow  to  Fate's  decree, 
Nor  hope  his  laws  will  change  for  me; 
Each  shifting  scene,  each  varying  hour. 
But  proves  the  ruthless  tyrants'  power. 

But  tho'  with  ills  unnumber'd  curst. 
We  owe  to  faithless  man  the  worst; 
For  man  can  smile  with  specious  art, 
And  plant  a  dagger  in  the  heart. 
He  only's  fitted  for  the  strife 
Which  fills  the  boist'rous  paths  of  life, 


£S  SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY. 

Who,  as  he  treads  the  crowded  scenes, 

Upon  no  kindred  bosom  leans. 

Too  long  my  foolish  heart  had  deem'd 

Mankind  as  virtuous  as  they  seem'd; 

The  spell  is  broke,  their  faults  are  bare, 

And  now  I  see  them  as  they  are; 

Truth  from  each  tainted  breast  has  flown, 

And  falsehood  marks  them  all  her  own. 

Incredulous  I  listen  now 

To  every  tongue,  and  every  vow. 

For  still  there  yawns  a  gulf  between 

Those  honeyed  words,  and  what  they  mean; 

With  honest  pride  elate,  I  see 

The  sons  of  falsehood  shrink  from  me, 

As  from  the  right  line's  even  way 

The  biass'd  curves  deflecting  stray — 

But  what  avails  it  to  complain? 

With  souls  like  theirs  reproof  is  vain; 

If  honor  e'er  such  bosoms  share 

The  sabre's  point  must  fix  it  there. 

But  why  exhaust  life's  rapid  bowl, 

And  suck  the  dregs  with  sorrow  foul, 

When  long  ere  this  my  youth  has  drain'd 

Whatever  zest  the  cup  contain'd? 

Why  should  we  mount  upon  the  wave, 

And  ocean's  yawning  horrors  brave. 

When  we  may  swallow  from  the  flask 

Whate'er  the  wants  of  mortals  ask? 

Contentment's  realms  no  fears  invade, 
No  cares  annoy,  no  sorrows  shade. 
There  plac'd  secure,  in  peace  we  rest, 
Nor  aught  demand  to  make  us  blest. 
While  pleasure's  gay  fantastic  bower, 
The  splendid  pageant  of  an  hour, 
Like  yonder  meteor  in  the  skies, 
Flits  with  a  breath  no  more  to  rise. 

As  thro'  life's  various  walks  we're  led, 
May  prudence  hover  o'er  our  head! 
May  she  our  words,  our  actions  guide, 
Our  faults  correct,  our  secrets  hide ! 


SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY  89 

May  she,  where'er  our  footsteps  stray, 
Direct  our  paths,  and  clear  the  way ! 

Till,  every  scene  of  tumult  past, 
She  bring  us  to  repose  at  last, 
Teach  us  to  love  that  peaceful  shore, 
And  roam  thro'  folly's  wilds  no  more! 

Mauid  Eddin  Alhassan  Abou  Isntael  Altograi. 


TO  YOUTH 

Yes,  youth,  thou'rt  fled,  and  I  am  left, 

Like  yonder  desolated  bower. 
By  winter's  ruthless  hand  bereft 

Of  every  leaf  and  every  flower. 

With  heaving  heart  and  streaming  eyes 

I  woo'd  thee  to  prolong  thy  stay, 
But  vain  were  all  my  tears  and  sighs, 

Thou  only  fled'st  more  fast  away. 

Yet  tho'  thou  fled'st  away  so  fast, 

I  can  recall  thee  if  I  will; 
For  I  can  talk  of  what  is  past, 

And  while  I  talk,  enjoy  thee  still. 

Ehn  Alrdbia. 


ON  LOVE^o 

I  never  knew  a  sprightly  fair 

That  was  not  dear  to  me. 
And  freely  I  my  heart  could  share, 

With  every  one  I  see. 

It  is  not  this  or  that  alone 

On  whom  my  choice  would  fall, 
I  do  not  more  incline  to  one 

Than  I  incline  to  all. 

»»  Abou  Aly  flourished  in  Egypt  about  the  year  530,  and  was  equally  celebrated 
as  a  mathematician  and  as  a  poet. 


90  SELECTIONS   FROM   ARABIAN    POETRY 

The  circle's  bounding  line  are  they, 

Its  centre  is  my  heart, 
My  ready  love  the  equal  ray 

That  flows  to  every  part. 

AboH  Aly. 

A   REMONSTRANCE   WITH   A   DRUNKARD*" 

As  drench'd  in  wine,  the  other  night, 

Zeid  from  the  banquet  sallied. 
Thus  I  reprov'd  his  drunken  plight, 

Thus  he  my  prudence  rallied; 

"  In  bev'rage  so  impure  and  vile. 
How  canst  thou  thus  delight?" — 

"  My  cups,"  he  answer'd  with  a  smile, 
"  Are  generous  and  bright." 

"  Beware  those  dang'rous  draughts,"  I  cried, 

"  With  love  the  goblet  flows  " — 
"  And  curst  is  he,"  the  youth  replied, 

"  Who  hatred  only  knows." 

"  Those  cups  too  soon  with  sickness  fraught 

Thy  stomach  shall  deplore  " — 
"  Then  soon,"  he  cried,  "  the  noxious  draught 

And  all  its  ills  are  o'er." 

"  Rash  youth,  thy  guilty  joys  resign." 

"  I  will,"  at  length  he  said, 
"  I  vow  I'll  bid  adieu  to  wine 

As  soon  as  I  am  dead." 

Yahia  Ben  Salamef. 

VERSES  *^ 

Tho'  such  unbounded  love  you  swear, 

'Tis  only  art  I  see; 
Can  I  believe  that  one  so  fair 

Should  ever  dote  on  me? 

«0This  author  was  a  native  of  Syria,  one   who    possessed   any   real    authority 

and    died   at    Miafarakir   in   the   year   of  since  the   reign   of    Radhi.     These   lines 

the  Hegira  553.  were  addressed  to  a  lady  who  pretended 

"  Almonklafi   was  the   thirtv-first    Ca-  a  passion  for  him  in  his  old  age. 
liph  of  the  house  of  Abbas,  and  the  only 


SELECTIONS   FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY  , 

Say  that  you  hate,  and  freely  show 

That  age  displeases  youth; 
And  I  may  love  you  when  I  know 

That  you  can  tell  the  truth. 

Caliph  AlmonklaH  Laimrillah. 


ON  PROCRASTINATION" 

Youth  is  a  drunken  noisy  hour, 

With  every  folly  fraught; 
But  man,  by  age's  chast'ning  power. 

Is  sober'd  into  thought. 

Then  we  resolve  our  faults  to  shun, 

And  shape  our  course  anew; 
But  ere  the  wise  reform's  begun 

Life  closes  on  our  view. 

The  travellers  thus  who  wildly  roam. 

Or  heedlessly  delay, 
Are  left,  when  they  should  reach  their  home, 

Benighted  on  the  way. 

Hebat  Allah  Ibn  Altalmith. 


THE  EARLY  DEATH  OF  ABOU  ALHASSAN  ALY " 

Soon  hast  thou  run  the  race  of  life, 

Nor  could  our  tears  thy  speed  control — 

Still  in  the  courser's  gen'rous  strife 
The  best  will  soonest  reach  the  goal. 

As  Death  upon  his  hand  turns  o'er 
The  diff'rent  gems  the  world  displays, 

He  seizes  first  to  swell  his  store 
The  brightest  jewel  he  surveys. 

"  Ibn  Altalmith  died  in  the  560th  year  thirty-fourth    Abasside   Caliph,    and   the 

of  the   Hcgira,  at  the  advanced  age  of  last    excepting  three   who   enjoyed   this 

one  hundred.  splendid   title,    which    was   finally   abol- 

"  Alnassar      Ledin      Allah      was     the  ■h.  J  hy  the  Tartars  in  the  year  656. 


SELECTIONS   FROM    ARABIAN    POETRY 

Thy  name,  by  every  breath  convey 'd, 

Stretch'd  o'er  the  globe  its  boundless  flight; 

Alas !  in  eve  the  length'ning  shade 
But  lengthens  to  be  lost  in  night! 

If  gracious  Allah  bade  thee  close 

Thy  youthful  eyes  so  soon  on  day, 
'Tis  that  he  readiest  welcomes  those 

Who  love  him  best  and  best  obey. 

Alnassar  Ledin  Allah. 


THE  INTERVIEW 

A  Song 

Darkness  clos'd  around,  loud  the  tempest  drove, 
When  thro'  yonder  glen  I  saw  my  lover  rove, 

Dearest  youth! 
Soon  he  reach'd  our  cot — weary,  wet,  and  cold. 
But  warmth,  wine,  and  I,  to  cheer  his  spirits  strove, 

Dearest  youth ! 

How  my  love,  cried  I,  durst  thou  hither  stray 

Thro'  the  gloom,  nor  fear  the  ghosts  that  haunt  the  grove? 

Dearest  youth! 
In  this  heart,  said  he,  fear  no  seat  can  find. 
When  each  thought  is  fill'd  alone  with  thee  and  love. 

Dearest  maid! 


CHOICE   EXAMPLES   OF   ORIENTAL    PRINTING    AND 
ENGRAVING. 


PAGE   FROM  AN  ARABIC  STORY-BOOK. 

This  illustration,  which  is  a  lac-simile  of  a  page  taken  from  a  book  of  popular 
Arabic  stories,  gives  an  excellent  idea  of  the  external  characteristics  of  the  Arabic 
language,  with  its  numerous  loops  and  accents. 


O-j'-JII    4-  7«)\>  Oll^ 


*.  •         *  .  .    .  «        • 

S>JU9  l"ij  (^j>*l.  Jla  ^j  'J  Jills'  iASlj  J"^^  C>1^*  o'4>i  «^  j*4l 

jVjj-i  Ojic  c5j)i  ^j  J--I L^  jw  :iiii  (.w  *  A_.yi  jy!rv:j^ 

J>V)U  ^\li^  J^i^jl  o3j5^  -4*«i'  -^^•^^*i  J'  oS3>  w:^==9i 
Jj-S.  J)  ^Ul  ail  ol,  j»:c  c>.lj  j^LlI  J>/bU  *  sTtjU  J.i..  jj^. 

0*b  ?ti2»  LI  ^.^Lil  J-Iu'  Jl_W  I^  Jj.a»    1)  ^l]lj  4.-.4«^  W  j\>.  b 


ARABIAN     NIGHTS 

[Selected  tales  edited  by  Ayidrew  Lang] 


ARABIAN     NIGHTS 


THE  SEVEN  VOYAGES  OF  SINDBAD 

IN  the  times  of  the  Caliph  Harun-al-Rashid  there  lived  in 
Bagdad  a  poor  porter  named  Hindbad,  who,  on  a  very  hot 
day,  was  sent  to  carry  a  heavy  load  from  one  end  of  the 
city  to  the  other.  Before  he  had  accomplished  half  the  dis- 
tance he  was  so  tired  that,  finding  himself  in  a  quiet  street 
where  the  pavement  was  sprinkled  with  rose-water,  and  a  cool 
breeze  was  blowing,  he  set  his  burden  upon  the  ground,  and  sat 
down  to  rest  in  the  shade  of  a  grand  house.  Very  soon  he  de- 
cided that  he  could  not  have  chosen  a  pleasanter  place ;  a  deli- 
cious perfume  of  aloes-wood  and  pastilles  came  from  the  open 
windows  and  mingled  with  the  scent  of  the  rose-water  which 
steamed  up  from  the  hot  pavement.  Within  the  palace  he 
heard  some  music,  as  of  many  instruments  cunningly  played, 
and  the  melodious  warble  of  nightingales  and  other  birds,  and 
by  this,  and  the  appetizing  smell  of  many  dainty  dishes  of 
which  he  presently  became  aware,  he  judged  that  feasting  and 
merry-making  were  going  on.  He  wondered  who  lived  in  this 
magnificent  house  which  he  had  never  seen  before,  the  street  in 
which  it  stood  being  one  which  he  seldom  had  occasion  to  pass. 
To  satisfy  his  curiosity  he  went  up  to  some  splendidly  dressed 
servants  who  stood  at  the  door,  and  asked  one  of  them  the  name 
of  the  master  of  the  mansion. 

"  What,"  replied  he,  "  do  you  live  in  Bagdad,  and  not  know 
that  here  lives  the  noble  Sindbad  the  Sailor,  that  famous  trav- 
eller who  sailed  over  every  sea  upon  which  th^  sun  shines  ?  " 

The  porter,  who  had  often  heard  people  speak  of  the  immense 
wealth  of  Sindbad,  could  not  help  feeling  envious  of  one  whose 
lot  seemed  to  be  as  happy  as  his  own  was  miserable.     Casting 
his  eyes  up  to  the  sky  he  exclaimed  aloud  : — 
95 


96  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

"  Consider,  Mighty  Creator  of  all  things,  the  difference  be- 
tween Sindbad's  life  and  mine.  Every  day  I  suffer  a  thousand 
hardships  and  misfortunes,  and  have  hard  work  to  get  even 
enough  bad  barley  bread  to  keep  myself  and  my  family  alive, 
while  the  lucky  Sindbad  spends  money  right  and  left  and  lives 
upon  the  fat  of  the  land !  What  has  he  done  that  you  should 
give  him  this  pleasant  life — what  have  I  done  to  deserve  so 
hard  a  fate  ?  " 

So  saying  he  stamped  upon  the  ground  like  one  beside  him- 
self with  misery  and  despair.  Just  at  this  moment  a  servant 
came  out  of  the  palace,  and  taking  him  by  the  arm  said,  "  Come 
with  me,  the  noble  Sindbad,  my  master,  wishes  to  speak  to 
you." 

Hindbad  was  not  a  little  surprised  at  this  summons,  and 
feared  that  his  unguarded  words  might  have  drawn  upon  him 
the  displeasure  of  Sindbad,  so  he  tried  to  excuse  himself  upon 
the  pretext  that  he  could  not  leave  the  burden  which  had  been 
intrusted  to  him  in  the  street.  However  the  lackey  promised 
him  that  it  should  be  taken  care  of,  and  urged  him  to  obey  the 
call  so  pressingly  that  at  last  the  porter  was  obliged  to  yield. 

He  followed  the  servant  into  a  vast  room,  where  a  great  com- 
pany was  seated  round  a  table  covered  with  all  sorts  of  deli- 
cacies. In  the  place  of  honor  sat  a  tall,  grave  man,  whose  long 
white  beard  gave  him  a  venerable  air.  Behind  his  chair  stood 
a  crowd  of  attendants  eager  to  minister  to  his  wants.  This 
was  the  famous  Sindbad  himself.  The  porter,  more  than  ever 
alarmed  at  the  sight  of  so  much  magnificence,  tremblingly 
saluted  the  noble  company.  Sindbad,  making  a  sign  to  him  to 
approach,  caused  him  to  be  seated  at  his  right  hand,  and  himself 
heaped  choice  morsels  upon  his  plate,  and  poured  out  for  him  a 
draught  of  excellent  wine,  and  presently,  when  the  banquet 
drew  to  a  close,  spoke  to  him  familiarly,  asking  his  name  and 
occupation. 

"  My  lord,"  replied  the  porter,  "  I  am  called  Hindbad." 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  here,"  continued  Sindbad.  "  And  I 
will  answer  for  the  rest  of  the  company  that  they  are  equally 
pleased,  but  I  wish  you  to  tell  me  what  it  was  that  you  said  just 
now  in  the  street."  For  Sindbad,  passing  by  the  open  window 
before  the  feast  began,  had  heard  his  complaint  and  therefore 
had  sent  for  him. 


THE   SEVEN    VOYAGES    OF    SINDBAD  97 

At  this  question  Hindbad  was  covered  with  confusion,  and 
hanging  down  liis  head,  rephed,  "  My  lord,  I  confess  that,  over- 
come by  weariness  and  ill-humor,  I  uttered  indiscreet  words, 
which  I  pray  you  to  pardon  me." 

"  Oh !  "  replied  Sindbad,  "  do  not  imagine  that  I  am  so  un- 
just as  to  blame  you.  On  the  contrary,  I  understand  your  situ- 
ation and  can  pity  you.  Only  you  appear  to  be  mistaken  about 
me,  and  I  wish  to  set  you  right.  You  doubtless  imagine  that  I 
have  acquired  all  the  wealth  and  luxury  that  you  see  me  enjoy 
without  difficulty  or  danger,  but  this  is  far  indeed  from  being 
the  case.  I  have  only  reached  this  happy  state  after  having  for 
years  sufifered  every  possible  kind  of  toil  and  danger. 

"  Yes,  my  noble  friends,"  he  continued,  addressing  the  com- 
pany, "  I  assure  you  that  my  adventures  have  been  strange 
enough  to  deter  even  the  most  avaricious  men  from  seeking 
wealth  by  traversing  the  seas.  Since  you  have,  perhaps,  heard 
but  confused  accounts  of  my  Seven  Voyages,  and  the  dangers 
and  wonders  that  I  have  met  wath  by  sea  and  land,  I  will  now 
give  you  a  full  and  true  account  of  them,  which  I  think  you  will 
be  well  pleased  to  hear." 

As  Sindbad  was  relating  his  adventures  chiefly  on  account  of 
the  porter,  he  ordered,  before  beginning  his  tale,  that  the  bur- 
den which  had  been  left  in  the  street  should  be  carried  by  some 
of  his  own  servants  to  the  place  for  which  Hindbad  had  set  out 
at  first,  while  he  remained  to  listen  to  the  story. 

Vol.  IVa.— 7 


FIRST  VOYAGE 

I  HAD  inherited  considerable  wealth  from  my  parents,  and 
being  young  and  foolish  I  at  first  squandered  it  recklessly 
upon  every  kind  of  pleasure,  but  presently,  finding  that 
riches  speedily  take  to  themselves  wings  if  managed  as  badly 
as  I  was  managing  mine,  and  remembering  also  that  to  be  old 
and  poor  is  misery  indeed,  I  began  to  bethink  me  of  how  I  could 
make  the  best  of  what  still  remained  to  me.  I  sold  all  my 
household  goods  by  public  auction,  and  joined  a  company  of 
merchants  who  traded  by  sea,  embarking  with  them  at  Balsora 
in  a  ship  which  we  had  fitted  out  between  us. 

We  set  sail  and  took  our  course  towards  the  East  Indies  by 
the  Persian  Gulf,  having  the  coast  of  Persia  upon  our  left  hand 
and  upon  our  right  the  shores  of  Arabia  Felix.  I  was  at  first 
much  troubled  by  the  uneasy  motion  of  the  vessel,  but  speedily 
recovered  my  health,  and  since  that  hour  have  been  no  more 
plagued  by  sea-sickness. 

From  time  to  time  we  landed  at  various  islands,  where  we 
sold  or  exchanged  our  merchandise,  and  one  day,  when  the 
wind  dropped  suddenly,  we  found  ourselves  becalmed  close  to 
a  small  island  like  a  green  meadow,  which  only  rose  slightly 
above  the  surface  of  the  water.  Our  sails  were  furled,  and  the 
captain  gave  permission  to  all  who  wished  to  land  for  a  while 
and  amuse  themselves.  I  was  among  the  number,  but  when 
after  strolling  about  for  some  time  we  lighted  a  fire  and  sat 
down  to  enjoy  the  repast  which  we  had  brought  with  us,  we 
were  startled  by  a  sudden  and  violent  trembling  of  the  island,, 
while  at  the  same  moment  those  left  upon  the  ship  set  up  an 
outcry  bidding  us  come  on  board  for  our  lives,  since  what  we 
had  taken  for  an  island  was  nothing  but  the  back  of  a  sleeping 
whale.  Those  who  were  nearest  to  the  boat  threw  themselves 
into  it,  others  sprang  into  the  sea,  but  before  I  could  save  myself 
the  whale  plunged  suddenly  into  the  depths  of  the  ocean;  leav- 
ing me  clinging  to  a  piece  of  the  wood  which  we  had  brought  to 
98 


FIRST    VOYAGE 


99 


make  our  fire.  Meanwhile  a  breeze  had  spruiii;  up,  and  in  the 
confusion  that  ensued  on  board  our  vessel  in  hoistinj;-  the  sails 
and  taking  up  those  who  were  in  the  boat  and  clinging  to  its 
sides,  no  one  missed  me  and  I  was  left  at  the  mercy  of  the 
waves.  All  that  day  I  floated  up  and  down,  now  beaten  this 
way,  now  that,  and  when  night  fell  I  despaired  for  my  life; 
but,  weary  and  spent  as  I  was,  I  clung  to  my  frail  support,  and 
great  was  my  joy  when  the  morning  light  showed  me  that  I 
had  drifted  against  an  island. 

The  clififs  were  high  and  steep,  but  luckily  for  me  some  tree- 
roots  protruded  in  places,  and  by  their  aid  I  climbed  up  at  last, 
and  stretched  myself  upon  the  turf  at  the  top,  where  I  lay,  more 
dead  than  alive,  till  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens.  By  that 
time  I  was  very  hungry,  but  after  some  searching  I  came  upon 
some  eatable  herbs,  and  a  spring  of  clear  water,  and  much  re- 
freshed I  set  out  to  explore  the  island.  Presently  I  reached  a 
great  plain  where  a  grazing  horse  was  tethered,  and  as  I  stood 
looking  at  it  I  heard  voices  talking  apparently  underground, 
and  in  a  moment  a  man  appeared  who  asked  me  how  I  came 
upon  the  island.  I  told  him  my  adventures,  and  heard  in  re- 
turn that  he  was  one  of  the  grooms  of  Mihrage,  the  King  of 
the  island,  and  that  each  year  they  came  to  feed  their  master's 
horses  in  this  plain.  He  took  me  to  a  cave  where  his  compan- 
ions were  assembled,  and  when  I  had  eaten  of  the  food  they  set 
before  me,  they  bade  me  think  myself  fortunate  to  have  come 
upon  them  when  I  did,  since  they  were  going  back  to  their  mas- 
ter on  the  morrow,  and  without  their  aid  I  could  certainly  never 
have  found  my  way  to  the  inhabited  part  of  the  island. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  accordingly  set  out,  and  when 
we  reached  the  capital  I  was  graciously  received  by  the  King, 
to  whom  I  related  my  adventures,  upon  which  he  ordered  that 
I  should  be  well  cared  for  and  provided  with  such  things  as  I 
needed.  Being  a  merchant  I  sought  out  men  of  my  own  pro- 
fession, and  particularly  those  who  came  from  foreign  coun- 
tries, as  I  hoped  in  this  way  to  hear  news  from  Bagdad,  and  find 
out  some  means  of  returning  thither,  for  the  capital  was  situ- 
ated upon  the  sea-shore,  and  visited  by  vessels  from  all  parts  of 
the  world.  In  the  meantime  I  heard  many  curious  things,  and 
answered  many  questions  concerning  my  own  country,  for  I 
talked  willingly  with  all  who  came  to  me.  Also  to  while  away 
the  time  of  waiting  I  explored  a  little  island  named  Cassel, 


loo  ARABIAN   NIGHTS 

which  belonged  to  King  Mihrage,  and  which  was  supposed  to 
be  inhabited  by  a  spirit  named  Deggial.  Indeed,  the  sailors  as- 
sured me  that  often  at  night  the  playing  of  timbals  could  be 
heard  upon  it.  However,  I  saw  nothing  strange  upon  my  voy- 
age, saving  some  fish  that  were  full  two  hundred  cubits  long, 
but  were  fortunately  more  in  dread  of  us  than  even  we  were  of 
them,  and  fled  from  us  if  we  did  but  strike  upon  a  board  to 
frighten  them.  Other  fishes  there  were  only  a  cubit  long  which 
had  heads  like  owls. 

One  day  after  my  return,  as  I  went  down  to  the  quay,  I  saw  a 
ship  which  had  just  cast  anchor,  and  was  discharging  her  cargo, 
while  the  merchants  to  whom  it  belonged  were  busily  directing 
the  removal  of  it  to  their  warehouses.  Drawing  nearer  I  pres- 
ently noticed  that  my  own  name  was  marked  upon  some  of  the 
packages,  and  after  having  carefully  examined  them,  I  felt  sure 
that  they  were  indeed  those  which  I  had  put  on  board  our  ship 
at  Balsora.  I  then  recognized  the  captain  of  the  vessel,  but 
as  I  was  certain  that  he  believed  me  to  be  dead,  I  went  up 
to  him  and  asked  who  owned  the  packages  that  I  was  look- 
ing at. 

"  There  was  on  board  my  ship,"  he  replied,  "  a  merchant  of 
Bagdad  named  Sindbad.  One  day  he  and  several  of  my  other 
passengers  landed  upon  what  we  supposed  to  be  an  island,  but 
which  was  really  an  enormous  whale  floating  asleep  upon  the 
waves.  No  sooner  did  it  feel  upon  its  back  the  heat  of  the  fire 
which  had  been  kindled,  than  it  plunged  into  the  depths  of  the 
sea.  Several  of  the  people  who  were  upon  it  perished  in  the 
waters,  and  among  others  this  unlucky  Sindbad.  This  mer- 
chandise is  his,  but  I  have  resolved  to  dispose  of  it  for  the 
benefit  of  his  family  if  I  should  ever  chance  to  meet  with 
them." 

"  Captain,"  said  I,  "  I  am  that  Sinbad  whom  you  believe  to 
be  dead,  and  these  are  my  possessions !  " 

When  the  captain  heard  these  words  he  cried  out  in  amaze- 
ment, "  Lackaday  !  and  what  is  the  world  coming  to?  In  these 
days  there  is  not  an  honest  man  to  be  met  with.  Did  I  not  with 
my  own  eyes  see  Sindbad  drown,  and  now  you  have  the  au- 
dacity to  tell  me  that  you  are  he !  I  should  have  taken  you  to 
be  a  just  man,  and  yet  for  the  sake  of  obtaining  that  which  does 
not  belong  to  you,  you  are  ready  to  invent  this  horrible  false- 
hood." 


FIRST   VOYAGE  lOl 

"  Have  patience,  and  do  me  the  favor  to  hear  my  story," 
said  I. 

"  Speak  then,"  rephcd  the  captain,  "  I  am  all  attention." 

So  I  told  him  of  my  escape  and  of  my  fortunate  meeting  with 
the  king's  grooms,  and  how  kindly  I  had  been  received  at  the 
palace.  Very  soon  I  began  to  see  that  I  had  made  some  impres- 
sion upon  him,  and  after  the  arrival  of  some  of  the  other  mer- 
chants, who  showed  great  joy  at  once  more  seeing  me  alive,  he 
declared  that  he  also  recognized  me. 

Throwing  himself  upon  my  neck  he  exclaimed,  "  lieaven  be 
praised  that  you  have  escaped  from  so  great  a  danger.  As  to 
your  goods,  I  pray  you  take  them,  and  dispose  of  them  as  you 
please."  I  thanked  him,  and  praised  his  honesty,  begging  him 
to  accept  several  bales  of  merchandise  in  token  of  my  gratitude, 
but  he  would  take  nothing.  Of  the  choicest  of  my  goods  I  pre- 
pared a  present  for  King  Mihrage,  who  was  at  first  amazed, 
having  known  that  I  had  lost  my  all.  However,  when  I  had 
explained  to  him  how  my  bales  had  been  miraculously  restored 
to  me,  he  graciously  accepted  my  gifts,  and  in  return  gave  me 
many  valuable  things.  I  then  took  leave  of  him,  and  exchang- 
ing my  merchandise  for  sandal  and  aloes-wood,  camphor,  nut- 
megs, cloves,  pepper,  and  ginger,  I  embarked  upon  the  same 
vessel  and  traded  so  successfully  upon  our  homeward  voyage 
that  I  arrived  in  Balsora  with  about  one  hundred  thousand 
sequins.  My  family  received  me  with  as  much  joy  as  I  felt 
upon  seeing  them  once  more.  I  bought  land  and  slaves,  and 
built  a  great  house  in  which  I  resolved  to  live  happily,  and  in 
the  enjoyment  of  all  the  pleasures  of  life  to  forget  my  past  suf- 
ferings. 

Here  Sindbad  paused,  and  commanded  the  musicians  to  play 
again,  while  the  feasting  continued  until  evening.  When  the 
time  came  for  the  porter  to  depart,  Sindbad  gave  him  a  purse 
containing  one  hundred  sequins,  saying,  "  Take  this,  Hindbad, 
and  go  home,  but  to-morrow  come  again  and  you  shall  hear 
more  of  my  adventures." 

The  porter  retired  quite  overcome  by  so  much  generosity, 
and  you  may  imagine  that  he  was  well  received  at  home, 
where  his  wife  and  children  thanked  their  lucky  stars  that  he 
had  found  such  a  benefactor. 

The  next  day  Hindbad,  dressed  in  his  best,  returned  to  the 


102  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

voyager's  house,  and  was  received  with  open  arms.  As  soon 
as  all  the  guests  had  arrived  the  banquet  began  as  before,  and 
when  they  had  feasted  long  and  merrily,  Sindbad  addressed 
them  thus : — 

"  My  friends,  I  beg  that  you  will  give  me  your  attention 
while  I  relate  the  adventures  of  my  second  voyage,  which  you 
will  find  even  more  astonishing  than  the  first." 


SECOND  VOYAGE 

I  HAD  resolved,  as  yon  know,  on  my  return  from  m.y  first 
voyage,  to  spend  the  rest  of  my  days  quietly  in  Bagdad, 
but  very  soon  I  grew  tired  of  such  an  idle  life  and  longed 
once  more  to  find  myself  upon  the  sea. 

I  procured,  therefore,  such  goods  as  were  suitable  for  the 
places  I  intended  to  visit,  and  embarked  for  the  second  time  in 
a  good  ship  with  other  merchants  whom  I  knew  to  be  honorable 
men.  We  went  from  island  to  island,  often  making  excellent 
bargains,  until  one  day  we  landed  at  a  spot  which,  though  cov- 
ered with  fruit-trees  and  abounding  in  springs  of  excellent 
water,  appeared  to  possess  neither  houses  nor  people.  While 
my  companions  wandered  here  and  there  gathering  flowers  and 
fruit  I  sat  down  in  a  shady  place,  and,  having  heartily  enjoyed 
the  provisions  and  the  wine  I  had  brought  with  me,  I  fell  asleep, 
lulled  by  the  murmur  of  a  clear  brook  which  flowed  close  by. 

How  long  I  slept  I  know  not,  but  when  I  opened  my  eyes  and 
started  to  my  feet  I  perceived  with  horror  that  I  was  alone  and 
that  the  ship  was  gone.  I  rushed  to  and  fro  like  one  distracted, 
uttering  cries  of  despair,  and  when  from  the  shore  I  saw  the 
vessel  under  full  sail  just  disappearing  upon  the  horizon,  I 
wished  bitterly  enough  that  I  had  been  content  to  stay  at  home 
in  safety.  But  since  wishes  could  do  me  no  good,  I  presently 
took  courage  and  looked  about  me  for  a  means  of  escape. 
When  I  had  climbed  a  tall  tree  I  first  of  all  directed  my  anxious 
glances  towards  the  sea ;  but,  finding  nothing  hopeful  there,  I 
turned  landward,  and  my  curiosity  was  excited  by  a  huge  daz- 
zling white  object,  so  far  oflf  that  I  could  not  make  out  what  it 
might  be. 

Descending  from  the  tree  I  hastily  collected  what  remained 
of  my  provisions  and  set  off  as  fast  as  I  could  go  towards  it. 
As  I  drew  near  it  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  white  ball  of  immense 
size  and  height,  and  when  I  could  touch  it,  I  found  it  marvel- 
lously smooth  and  soft.  As  it  was  impossible  to  climb  it — for 
103 


104 


ARABIAN    NIGHTS 


it  presented  no  foothold — I  walked  round  about  it  seeking  some 
opening,  but  there  was  none.  I  counted,  however,  that  it  was 
at  least  fifty  paces  round.  By  this  time  the  sun  was  near  set- 
ting, but  quite  suddenly  it  fell  dark,  something  like  a  huge  black 
cloud  came  swiftly  over  me,  and  I  saw  with  amazement  that  it 
was  a  bird  of  extraordinary  size  which  was  hovering  near. 
Then  I  remembered  that  I  had  often  heard  the  sailors  speak  of  a 
wonderful  bird  called  a  roc,  and  it  occurred  to  me  that  the  white 
object  which  had  so  puzzled  me  must  be  its  egg. 

Sure  enough  the  bird  settled  slowly  down  upon  it,  covering  it 
with  its  wings  to  keep  it  warm,  and  I  cowered  close  beside  the 
egg  in  such  a  position  that  one  of  the  bird's  feet,  which  was  as 
large  as  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  was  just  in  front  of  me.  Taking 
off  my  turban  I  bound  myself  securely  to  it  with  the  linen  in  the 
hope  that  the  roc,  when  it  took  flight  next  morning,  would 
bear  me  away  with  it  from  the  desolate  island.  And  this  was 
precisely  what  did  happen.  As  soon  as  the  dawn  appeared  the 
bird  rose  into  the  air  carrying  me  up  and  up  till  I  could  no 
longer  see  the  earth,  and  then  suddenly  it  descended  so  swiftly 
that  I  almost  lost  consciousness.  When  I  became  aware  that 
the  roc  had  settled  and  that  I  was  once  again  upon  solid  ground, 
I  hastily  unbound  my  turban  from  its  foot  and  freed  myself, 
and  that  not  a  moment  too  soon ;  for  the  bird,  pouncing  upon  a 
huge  snake,  killed  it  with  a  few  blows  from  its  powerful  beak, 
and  seizing  it  rose  up  into  the  air  once  more  and  soon  disap- 
peared from  my  view.  When  I  had  looked  about  me  I  began 
to  doubt  if  I  had  gained  anything  by  quitting  the  desolate  island. 

The  valley  in  which  I  found  myself  was  deep  and  narrow, 
and  surrounded  by  mountains  which  towered  into  the  clouds, 
and  were  so  steep  and  rocky  that  there  was  no  way  of  climbing 
up  their  sides.  As  I  wandered  about,  seeking  anxiously  for 
some  means  of  escaping  from  this  trap,  I  observed  that  the 
ground  was  strewed  with  diamonds,  some  of  them  of  an  aston- 
ishing size.  This  sight  gave  me  great  pleasure,  but  my  delight 
was  speedily  dampened  when  I  saw  also  numbers  of  horrible 
snakes  so  long  and  so  large  that  the  smallest  of  them  could  have 
swallowed  an  elephant  with  ease.  Fortunately  for  me  they 
seemed  to  hide  in  caverns  of  the  rocks  by  day,  and  only  came 
out  by  night,  probably  because  of  their  enemy  the  roc. 

All  day  long  I  wandered  up  and  down  the  valley,  and  when 
it  grew  dusk  I  crept  into  a  little  cave,  and  having  blocked  up 


SECOND   VOYAGE  105 

the  erttrance  to  it  with  a  stone,  I  ate  part  of  my  little  store  of  food 
and  lay  down  to  sleep,  but  all  through  the  night  the  serpents 
crawled  to  and  fro,  hissing  horribly,  so  that  I  could  scarcely 
close  my  eyes  for  terror.  I  was  thankful  when  the  morning- 
light  appeared,  and  when  I  judged  by  the  silence  that  the  ser- 
pents had  retreated  to  their  dens  I  came  tremblingly  out  of  my 
cave  and  wandered  up  and  down  the  valley  once  more,  kicking 
the  diamonds  contemptuously  out  of  my  path,  for  I  felt  that 
they  were  indeed  vain  things  to  a  man  in  my  situation.  At  last, 
overcome  with  weariness,  I  sat  down  upon  a  rock,  but  I  had 
hardly  closed  my  eyes  when  I  was  startled  by  something  which 
fell  to  the  ground  with  a  thud  close  beside  me. 

It  was  a  huge  piece  of  fresh  meat,  and  as  I  stared  at  it  several 
more  pieces  rolled  over  the  cliffs  in  different  places.  I  had  al- 
ways thought  that  the  stories  the  sailors  told  of  the  famous  val- 
ley of  diamonds,  and  of  the  cunning  way  which  some  merchants 
had  devised  for  getting  at  the  precious  stones,  were  mere  trav- 
ellers' tales  invented  to  give  pleasure  to  the  hearers,  but  now  I 
perceived  that  they  were  surely  true.  These  merchants  came  to 
the  valley  at  the  time  when  the  eagles,  which  keep  their  eyries  in 
the  rocks,  had  hatched  their  young.  The  merchants  then  threw 
great  lumps  of  meat  into  the  valley.  These,  falling  with  so 
much  force  upon  the  diamonds,  were  sure  to  take  up  some  of 
the  precious  stones  with  them,  when  the  eagles  pounced  upon 
the  meat  and  carried  it  off  to  their  nests  to  feed  their  hungry 
broods.  Then  the  merchants,  scaring  away  the  parent  birds 
with  shouts  and  outcries,  would  secure  their  treasures.  Until 
this  moment  I  had  looked  upon  the  valley  as  my  grave,  for  I  had 
seen  no  possibility  of  getting  out  of  it  alive,  but  now  I  took 
courage  and  began  to  devise  a  means  of  escape.  I  began  by 
picking  up  all  the  largest  diamonds  I  could  find  and  storing 
them  carefully  in  the  leathern  wallet  which  had  held  my  pro- 
visions ;  this  I  tied  securely  to  my  belt.  I  then  chose  the  piece 
of  meat  which  seemed  most  suited  to  my  purpose,  and  with  the 
aid  of  my  turban  bound  it  firmly  to  my  back ;  this  done  I  laid 
down  upon  my  face  and  awaited  the  coming  of  the  eagles.  I 
soon  heard  the  flapping  of  their  mighty  wings  above  me,  and 
had  the  satisfaction  of  feeling  one  of  them  seize  upon  my  piece 
of  meat,  and  me  with  it,  and  rise  slowly  towards  his  nest,  into 
which  he  presently  dropped  me.  Luckily  for  me  the  merchants 
were  on  the  watch,  and  setting  up  their  usual  outcries  they 


io6  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

rushed  to  the  nest,  scaring  away  the  eagle.  Their  amazement 
was  great  when  they  discovered  me,  and  also  their  disappoint- 
ment, and  with  one  accord  they  fell  to  abusing  me  for  having 
robbed  them  of  their  usual  profit.  Addressing  myself  to  the 
one  who  seemed  most  aggrieved,  I  said : — 

"  I  am  sure,  if  you  knew  all  that  I  have  suffered,  you  would 
show  more  kindness  towards  me,  and  as  for  diamonds,  I  have 
enough  here  of  the  very  best  for  you  and  me  and  all  your  com- 
pany." So  saying  I  showed  them  to  him.  The  others  all 
crowded  around  me,  wondering  at  my  adventures  and  admiring 
the  device  by  which  I  had  escaped  from  the  valley,  and  when 
they  had  led  me  to  their  camp  and  examined  my  diamonds,  they 
assured  me  that  in  all  the  years  that  they  had  carried  on  their 
trade  they  had  seen  no  stones  to  be  comparecl  with  them  for  size 
and  beauty. 

I  found  that  each  merchant  chose  a  particular  nest,  and  took 
his  chance  of  what  he  might  find  in  it.  So  I  begged  the  one 
who  owned  the  nest  to  which  I  had  been  carried  to  take  as  much 
as  he  would  of  my  treasure,  but  he  contented  himself  with  one 
stone,  and  that  by  no  means  the  largest,  assuring  me  that  with 
such  a  gem  his  fortune  was  made,  and  he  need  toil  no  more.  I 
stayed  with  the  merchants  several  days,  and  then  as  they  were 
journeying  homewards  I  gladly  accompanied  them.  Our  way 
lay  across  high  mountains  infested  with  frightful  serpents,  but 
we  had  the  good  luck  to  escape  them  and  came  at  last  to  the  sea- 
shore. Thence  we  sailed  to  the  isle  of  Roha,  where  the  cam- 
phor-trees grow  to  such  a  size  that  a  hundred  men  could  shelter 
under  one  of  them  with  ease.  The  sap  flows  from  an  incision 
made  high  up  in  the  tree  into  a  vessel  hung  there  to  receive  it, 
and  soon  hardens  into  the  substance  called  camphor,  but  the 
tree  itself  withers  up  and  dies  when  it  has  been  so  treated. 

In  this  same  island  we  saw  the  rhinoceros,  an  animal  which  is 
smaller  than  the  elephant  and  larger  than  the  buffalo.  It  has 
one  horn  about  a  cubit  long  which  is  solid,  but  has  a  furrow 
from  the  base  to  the  tip.  Upon  it  is  traced  in  white  lines  the 
figure  of  a  man.  The  rhinoceros  fights  with  the  elephant,  and 
transfixing  him  with  his  horn  carries  him  off  upon  his  head,  but 
becoming  blinded  with  the  blood  of  his  enemy,  he  falls  helpless 
to  the  ground,  and  then  comes  the  roc,  and  clutches  them  both 
up  in  his  talons  and  takes  them  to  feed  his  young.  This  doubt- 
less astonishes  you,  but  if  you  do  not  believe  my  tale  go  to  Roha 


SECOND   VOYAGE  107 

and  see  for  yourself.  For  fear  of  wearying  you  I  pass  over  in 
silence  many  other  wonderful  things  which  we  saw  in  this 
island.  Before  we  left  I  exchanged  one  of  my  diamonds  for 
much  goodly  merchandise  by  which  I  profited  greatly  on  our 
homeward  way.  At  last  we  reached  Balsora,  whence  I  has- 
tened to  Bagdad,  where  my  first  action  was  to  bestow  large 
sums  of  money  upon  the  poor,  after  which  I  settled  down  to 
enjoy  tranquilly  the  riches  I  had  gained  with  so  much  toil 
and  pain. 

Having  thus  related  the  adventures  of  his  second  voyage, 
Sindbad  again  bestowed  a  hundred  sequins  upon  Hindbad,  in- 
viting him  to  come  again  on  the  following  day  and  hear  how  he 
fared  upon  his  third  voyage.  The  other  guests  also  departed  to 
their  homes,  but  all  returned  at  the  same  hour  next  day,  includ- 
ing the  porter,  whose  former  life  of  hard  work  and  poverty  had 
already  begun  to  seem  to  him  like  a  bad  dream.  Again  after  the 
feast  was  over  did  Sindbad  claim  the  attention  of  his  guests 
and  began  the  account  of  his  third  voyage. 


THIRD  VOYAGE 

AFTER  a  very  short  time  the  pleasant  easy  life  I  led  made 
me  quite  forget  the  perils  of  my  two  voyages.  More- 
over, as  I  was  still  in  the  prime  of  life,  it  pleased  me 
better  to  be  up  and  doing.  So  once  more  providing  myself  with 
the  rarest  and  choicest  merchandise  of  Bagdad,  I  conveyed  it  to 
Balsora,  and  set  sail  with  other  merchants  of  my  acquaintance 
for  distant  lands.  We  had  touched  at  many  ports  and  made 
much  profit,  when  one  day  upon  the  open  sea  we  were  caught  by 
a  terrible  wind  which  blew  us  completely  out  of  our  reckoning, 
and  lasting  for  several  days  finally  drove  us  into  harbor  on  a 
strange  island. 

"  I  would  rather  have  come  to  anchor  anywhere  than  here," 
quoth  our  captain.  "  This  island  and  all  adjoining  it  are  in- 
habited by  hairy  savages,  who  are  certain  to  attack  us,  and 
whatever  these  dwarfs  may  do  we  dare  not  resist,  since  they 
swarm  like  locusts,  and  if  one  of  them  is  killed  the  rest  will  fall 
upon  us,  and  speedily  make  an  end  of  us." 

These  words  caused  great  consternation  among  all  the  ship's 
company,  and  only  too  soon  we  were  to  find  out  that  the  captain 
spoke  truly.  There  appeared  a  vast  multitude  of  hideous  sav- 
ages, not  more  than  two  feet  high  and  covered  with  reddish  fur. 
Throwing  themselves  into  the  waves  they  surrounded  our  ves- 
sel. Chattering  meanwhile  in  a  language  we  could  not  under- 
stand, and  clutching  at  ropes  and  gangways,  they  swarmed  up 
the  ship's  side  with  such  speed  and  agility  that  they  almost 
seemed  to  fly. 

You  may  imagine  the  rage  and  terror  that  seized  us  as  we 
watched  them,  neither  daring  to  hinder  them  nor  able  to  speak 
a  word  to  deter  them  from  their  purpose,  whatever  it  might  be. 
Of  this  we  were  not  left  long  in  doubt.  Hoisting  the  sails,  and 
cutting  the  cable  of  the  anchor,  they  sailed  our  vessel  to  an 
island  which  lay  a  little  further  off,  where  they  drove  us  ashore ; 
then  taking  possession  of  her,  they  made  off  to  the  place  from 
io8 


THIRD    VOYAGE 


109 


which  they  had  come,  leaving-  us  helpless  upon  a  shore  avoided 
with  horror  by  all  mariners  for  a  reason  which  you  will  soon 
learn. 

Turning  away  from  the  sea  we  wandered  miserably  inland, 
finding  as  we  went  various  herbs  and  fruits  which  we  ate,  feel- 
ing that  we  might  as  well  live  as  long  as  possible  though  we  had 
no  hope  of  escape.  Presently  we  saw  in  the  far  distance  what 
seemed  to  us  to  be  a  splendid  palace,  towards  which  we  turned 
our  weary  steps,  but  when  we  reached  it  we  saw  that  it  was  a 
castle,  lofty,  and  strongly  built.  Pushing  back  the  heavy  ebony 
doors  we  entered  the  courtyard,  but  upon  the  threshold  of  the 
great  hall  beyond  it  we  paused,  frozen  with  horror,  at  the  sight 
which  greeted  us.  On  one  side  lay  a  huge  pile  of  bones — hu- 
man bones ;  and  on  the  other  numberless  spits  for  roasting ! 
Overcome  with  despair  we  sank  trembling  to  the  ground,  and 
lay  there  without  speech  or  motion.  The  sun  was  setting  when 
a  loud  noise  aroused  us,  the  door  of  the  hall  was  violently  burst 
open  and  a  horrible  giant  entered.  He  was  as  tall  as  a  palm 
tree,  and  perfectly  black,  and  had  one  eye,  which  flamed  like  a 
burning  coal  in  the  middle  of  his  forehead.  His  teeth  were  long 
and  sharp  and  grinned  horribly,  while  his  lower  lip  hung  down 
upon  his  chest,  and  he  had  ears  like  elephant's  ears,  which  cov- 
ered his  shoulders,  and  nails  like  the  claws  of  some  fierce  bird. 

At  this  terrible  sight  our  senses  left  us  and  we  lay  like  dead 
men.  When  at  last  we  came  to  ourselves  the  giant  sat  examin- 
ing us  attentively  with  his  fearful  eye.  Presently  when  he  had 
looked  at  us  enough  he  came  towards  us,  and  stretching  out 
his  hand  took  me  by  the  back  of  the  neck,  turning  me  this  way 
and  that,  but  feeling  that  I  was  mere  skin  and  bone  he  set  me 
down  again  and  went  on  to  the  next,  whom  he  treated  in  the 
same  fashion ;  at  last  he  came  to  the  captain,  and  finding  him 
the  fattest  of  us  all,  he  took  him  up  in  one  hand  and  stuck  him 
upon  a  spit  and  proceeded  to  kindle  a  huge  fire  at  which  he  pres- 
ently roasted  him.  After  the  giant  had  supped  he  lay  down  to 
sleep,  snoring  like  the  loudest  thunder,  while  we  lay  shivering 
with  horror  the  whole  night  through,  and  when  day  broke  he 
awoke  and  went  out,  leaving  us  in  the  castle. 

When  we  believed  him  to  be  really  gone  we  started  up  be- 
moaning our  horrible  fate,  until  the  hall  echoed  with  our  de- 
spairing cries.  Though  we  were  many  and  our  enemy  was 
alone  it  did  not  occur  to  us  to  kill  him,  and  indeed  we  should 


no  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

have  found  that  a  hard  task,  even  if  we  had  thought  of  it,  and 
no  plan  could  we  devise  to  deliver  ourselves.  So  at  last,  sub- 
mitting to  our  sad  fate,  we  spent  the  day  in  wandering  up  and 
down  the  island  eating  such  fruits  as  we  could  find,  and  when 
night  came  we  returned  to  the  castle,  having  sought  in  vain  for 
any  other  place  of  shelter.  At  sunset  the  giant  returned, 
supped  upon  one  of  our  unhappy  comrades,  slept  and  snored  till 
dawn,  and  then  left  us  as  before.  Our  condition  seemed  to  us 
so  frightful  that  several  of  my  companions  thought  it  would  be 
better  to  leap  from  the  cliffs  and  perish  in  the  waves  at  once, 
rather  than  await  so  miserable  an  end ;  but  I  had  a  plan  of  es- 
cape which  I  now  unfolded  to  them,  and  which  they  at  once 
agreed  to  attempt. 

"  Listen,  my  brothers,"  I  added.  "  You  know  that  plenty  of 
driftwood  lies  along  the  shore.  Let  us  make  several  rafts,  and 
carry  them  to  a  suitable  place.  If  our  plot  succeeds,  we  can 
wait  patiently  for  the  chance  of  some  passing  ship  which  would 
rescue  us  from  this  fatal  island.  If  it  fails,  we  must  quickly 
take  to  our  rafts ;  frail  as  they  are,  we  have  more  chance  of  sav- 
ing our  lives  with  them  than  we  have  if  we  remain  here." 

All  agreed  with  me,  and  we  spent  the  day  in  building  rafts, 
each  capable  of  carrying  three  persons.  At  nightfall  we  re- 
turned to  the  castle,  and  very  soon  in  came  the  giant,  and  one 
more  of  our  number  was  sacrificed.  But  the  time  of  our  ven- 
geance was  at  hand  !  As  soon  as  he  had  finished  his  horrible  re- 
past he  lay  down  to  sleep  as  before,  and  when  we  heard  him 
begin  to  snore  I,  and  nine  of  the  boldest  of  my  comrades,  rose 
softly,  and  took  each  a  spit,  which  we  made  red-hot  in  the  fire, 
and  then  at  a  given  signal  we  plunged  it  with  one  accord  into 
the  giant's  eye,  completely  blinding  him.  Uttering  a  terrible 
cry,  he  sprang  to  his  feet  clutching  in  all  directions  to  try  to 
seize  one  of  us,  but  we  had  all  fled  different  ways  as  soon  as  the 
deed  was  done,  and  thrown  ourselves  flat  upon  the  ground  in 
corners  where  he  was  not  likely  to  touch  us  with  his  feet. 

After  a  vain  search  he  fumbled  about  till  he  found  the  door, 
and  fled  out  of  it  howling  frightfully.  As  for  us,  when  he  was 
gone  we  made  haste  to  leave  the  fatal  castle,  and,  stationing  our- 
selves beside  our  rafts,  we  waited  to  see  what  would  happen. 
Our  idea  was  that  if,  when  the  sun  rose,  we  saw  nothing  of  the 
giant,  and  no  longer  heard  his  howls,  which  still  came  faintly 
through  the  darkness,  growing  more  and  more  distant,  we 


THIRD    VOYAGE  ill 

should  conclude  that  he  was  dead,  and  that  we  might  safely  stay 
upon  the  island  and  need  not  risk  our  lives  upon  the  frail  rafts. 
But  alas !  morning  light  showed  us  our  enemy  approaching  us, 
supported  on  either  hand  by  two  giants  nearly  as  large  and  fear- 
ful as  himself,  while  a  crowd  of  others  followed  close  upon  their 
heels.  Hesitating  no  longer  we  clambered  upon  our  rafts  and 
rowed  with  all  our  might  out  to  sea.  The  giants,  seeing  their 
prey  escaping  them,  seized  up  huge  pieces  of  rock,  and  wading 
into  the  water  hurled  them  after  us  with  such  good  aim  that  all 
the  rafts  except  the  one  I  was  upon  were  swamped,  and  their 
luckless  crews  drowned,  without  our  being  able  to  do  anything 
to  help  them.  Indeed  I  and  my  two  companions  had  all  we 
could  do  to  keep  our  own  raft  beyond  the  reach  of  the  giants,  but 
by  dint  of  hard  rowing  we  at  last  gained  the  open  sea.  Here  we 
were  at  the  mercy  of  the  winds  and  waves,  which  tossed  us  to 
and  fro  all  that  day  and  night,  but  the  next  morning  we  found 
ourselves  near  an  island,  upon  which  we  gladly  landed. 

There  we  found  delicious  fruits,  and  having  satisfied  our 
hunger  we  presently  lay  down  to  rest  upon  the  shore.  Sud- 
denly we  were  aroused  by  a  loud  rustling  noise,  and  starting  up, 
saw  that  it  was  caused  by  an  immense  snake  which  was  gliding 
towards  us  over  the  sand.  So  swiftly  it  came  that  it  had  seized 
one  of  my  comrades  before  he  had  time  to  fly,  and  in  spite  of  his 
cries  and  struggles  speedily  crushed  the  life  out  of  him  in  its 
mighty  coils  and  proceeded  to  swallow  him.  By  this  time  my 
other  companion  and  I  were  running  for  our  lives  to  some  place 
where  we  might  hope  to  be  safe  from  this  new  horror,  and  see- 
ing a  tall  tree  we  climbed  up  into  it,  having  first  provided  our- 
selves with  a  store  of  fruit  ofif  the  surrounding  bushes.  When 
night  came  I  fell  asleep,  but  only  to  be  awakened  once  more  by 
the  terrible  snake,  which  after  hissing  horribly  round  the  tree 
at  last  reared  itself  up  against  it,  and  finding  my  sleeping  com- 
rade who  was  perched  just  below  me,  it  swallowed  him  also,  and 
crawled  away  leaving  me  half  dead  with  terror. 

When  the  sun  rose  I  crept  down  from  the  tree  with  hardly  ci 
hope  of  escaping  the  dreadful  fate  which  had  overtaken  my 
comrades ;  but  life  is  sweet,  and  I  determined  to  do  all  I  could 
to  save  myself.  All  day  long  I  toiled  with  frantic  haste  and 
collected  quantities  of  dry  brushwood,  reeds  and  thorns,  which 
I  bound  with  fagots,  and  making  a  circle  of  them  under  my 
tree  I  piled  them  firmly  one  upon  another  until  I  had  a  kind  of 


,12  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

tent  in  which  I  crouched  like  a  mouse  in  a  hole  when  she  sees 
the  cat  coming.  You  may  imagine  what  a  fearful  night  I 
passed,  for  the  snake  returned  eager  to  devour  me,  and  glided 
round  and  round  my  frail  shelter  seeking  an  entrance.  Every 
moment  I  feared  that  it  w^ould  succeed  in  pushing  aside  some 
of  the  fagots,  but  happily  for  me  they  held  together,  and  when 
it  grew  light  my  enemy  retired,  baffled  and  hungry,  to  his 
den.  As  for  me  I  was  more  dead  than  alive !  Shaking  with 
fright  and  half  suffocated  by  the  poisonous  breath  of  the  mon- 
ster, I  came  out  of  my  tent  and  crawled  down  to  the  sea,  feeling 
that  it  would  be  better  to  plunge  from  the  cliffs  and  end  my  life 
at  once  than  pass  such  another  night  of  horror.  But  to  my  joy 
and  relief  I  saw  a  ship  sailing  by,  and  by  shouting  wildly  and 
\vaving  my  turban  I  managed  to  attract  the  attention  of  her 
crew. 

A  boat  was  sent  to  rescue  me,  and  very  soon  I  found  myself 
on  board  surrounded  by  a  wondering  crowd  of  sailors  and  mer- 
chants eager  to  know  by  what  chance  I  found  myself  in  that 
desolate  island.  After  I  had  told  my  story  they  regaled  me 
with  the  choicest  food  the  ship  afforded,  and  the  captain,  seeing 
that  I  was  in  rags,  generously  bestowed  upon  me  one  of  his  own 
coats.  After  sailing  about  for  some  time  and  touching  at 
many  ports  we  came  at  last  to  the  island  of  Salahat,  where  san- 
dal-wood grows  in  great  abundance.  Here  we  anchored,  and 
as  I  stood  watching  the  merchants  disembarking  their  goods 
and  preparing  to  sell  or  exchange  them,  the  captain  came  up  to 
me  and  said : — 

"  I  have  here,  brother,  some  merchandise  belonging  to  a  pas- 
senger of  mine  who  is  dead.  Will  you  do  me  the  favor  to  trade 
with  it,  and  when  I  meet  with  his  heirs  I  shall  be  able  to  give 
them  the  money,  though  it  will  be  only  just  that  you  shall  have 
a  portion  for  your  trouble." 

I  consented  gladly,  for  I  did  not  like  standing  by  idle. 
Whereupon  he  pointed  the  bales  out  to  me,  and  sent  for  the 
person  whose  duty  it  was  to  keep  a  list  of  the  goods  that  were 
upon  the  ship.  When  this  man  came  he  asked  in  what  name 
the  merchandise  was  to  be  registered. 

"  In  the  name  of  Sindbad  the  Sailor,"  replied  the  captain. 

At  this  I  was  greatly  surprised,  but  looking  carefully  at  him 
I  recognized  him  to  be  the  captain  of  the  ship  upon  which  I  had 
made  my  second  voyage,  though  he  had  altered  much  since 


THIRD    VOYAGi:  1x3 

that  time.  As  for  him,  beheving  me  to  be  dead  it  was  no  won- 
der that  he  had  not  recognized  me. 

"  So,  captain,"  said  I,  "  the  merchant  who  owned  those  bales 
was  called  Sindbad  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  replied.  "  He  was  so  named.  He  belonged  to 
Bagdad,  and  joined  my  ship  at  Balsora,  but  by  mischance  he 
was  left  behind  upon  a  desert  island  where  we  had  landed  to  fill 
up  our  water-casks,  and  it  was  not  until  four  hours  later  that 
he  was  missed.  By  that  time  the  wind  had  freshened,  and  it 
was  impossible  to  put  back  for  him." 

"  You  suppose  him  to  have  perished  then?  "  said  I. 

''Alas  !  yes,"  he  answered. 

"  Why,  captain !  "  I  cried,  "  look  well  at  me.  I  am  that  Sind- 
bad who  fell  asleep  upon  the  island  and  awoke  to  find  himself 
abandoned !  " 

The  captain  stared  at  me  in  amazement,  but  was  presently 
convinced  that  I  was  indeed  speaking  the  truth,  and  rejoiced 
greatly  at  my  escape. 

"  I  am  glad  to  have  that  piece  of  carelessness  oflf  my  con- 
science at  any  rate,"  said  he.  "  Now  take  your  goods,  and  the 
profit  I  have  made  for  you  upon  them,  and  may  you  prosper  in 
future." 

I  took  them  gratefully,  and  as  we  went  from  one  island  to  an- 
other I  laid  in  stores  of  cloves,  cinnamon,  and  other  spices.  In 
one  place  I  saw  a  tortoise  which  was  twenty  cubits  long  and  as 
many  broad,  also  a  fish  that  was  like  a  cow  and  had  skin  so  thick 
that  it  was  used  to  make  shields.  Another  I  saw  that  was  like 
a  camel  in  shape  and  color.  So  by  degrees  we  came  back  to 
Balsora,  and  I  returned  to  Bagdad  with  so  much  money  that  I 
could  not  myself  count  it,  besides  treasures  without  end.  I 
gave  largely  to  the  poor,  and  bought  much  land  to  add  to  what 
I  already  possessed,  and  thus  ended  my  third  voyage. 

When  Sindbad  had  finished  his  story  he  gave  another  hun- 
dred sequins  to  Hindbad,  who  then  departed  with  the  other 
guests,  but  next  day  when  they  had  all  reassembled,  and  the 
banquet  was  ended,  their  host  continued  his  adventures. 

Vol.  IVa.— 8 


FOURTH   VOYAGE 

RICH  and  happy  as  I  was  after  my  third  voyage,  I  could 
not  make  up  my  mind  to  stay  at  home  altogether.  My 
love  of  trading,  and  the  pleasure  I  took  in  anything  that 
was  new  and  strange,  made  me  set  my  affairs  in  order,  and 
begin  my  journey  through  some  of  the  Persian  provinces,  hav- 
ing first  sent  off  stores  of  goods  to  await  my  coming  in  the  dif- 
ferent places  I  intended  to  visit.  I  took  ship  at  a  distant  sea- 
port, and  for  some  time  all  went  well,  but  at  last,  being  caught 
in  a  violent  hurricane,  our  vessel  became  a  total  wreck  in  spite 
of  all  our  worthy  captain  could  do  to  save  her,  and  many  of  our 
company  perished  in  the  waves.  I,  with  a  few  others,  had  the 
good  fortune  to  be  washed  ashore  clinging  to  pieces  of  the 
wreck,  for  the  storm  had  driven  us  near  an  island,  and  scram- 
bling up  beyond  the  reach  of  the  waves  we  threw  ourselves 
down  quite  exhausted,  to  wait  for  morning. 

At  daylight  we  wandered  inland,  and  soon  saw  some  huts,  to 
which  we  directed  our  steps.  As  we  drew  near  their  black  in- 
habitants swarmed  out  in  great  numbers  and  surrounded  us, 
and  we  were  led  to  their  houses,  and  as  it  were  divided  among 
our  captors.  I  with  five  others  was  taken  into  a  hut,  where  we 
were  made  to  sit  upon  the  ground,  and  certain  herbs  were  given 
to  us,  which  the  blacks  made  signs  to  us  to  eat.  Observing  that 
they  themselves  did  not  touch  them,  I  was  careful  only  to  pretend 
to  taste  my  portion ;  but  my  companions,  being  very  hungry, 
rashly  ate  up  all  that  was  set  before  them,  and  very  soon  I  had 
the  horror  of  seeing  them  become  perfectly  mad.  Though  they 
chattered  mcessantly  I  could  not  understand  a  word  they  said, 
nor  did  they  heed  when  I  spoke  to  them.  The  savages  now 
produced  large  bowls  full  of  rice  prepared  with  cocoanut  oil,  of 
which  my  crazy  comrades  ate  eagerly,  but  I  only  tasted  a  few 
grains,  understanding  clearly  that  the  object  of  our  captors  was 
to  fatten  us  speedily  for  their  own  eating,  and  this  was  exactly 
what  happened.  My  unlucky  companions  having  lost  their 
114 


FOURTH    VOYAGE  115 

reason,  felt  neither  anxiety  nor  fear,  and  ate  greedily  all  that 
was  offered  them.  So  they  were  soon  fat  and  there  was  an  end 
of  them,  but  I  grew  leaner  day  by  day,  for  I  ate  but  little,  and 
even  that  little  did  me  no  good  by  reason  of  my  fear  of  what  lay 
before  me.  However,  as  I  was  so  far  from  being  a  tempting 
morsel,  I  was  allowed  to  wander  about  freely,  and  one  day, 
when  all  the  blacks  had  gone  off  upon  some  expedition  leaving 
only  an  old  man  to  guard  me,  I  managed  to  escape  from  him 
and  plunged  into  the  forest,  running  faster  the  more  he  cried  to 
me  to  come  back,  until  I  had  completely  distanced  him. 

For  seven  days  I  hurried  on,  resting  only  when  the  darkness 
stopped  me,  and  living  chiefly  upon  cocoanuts,  which  afforded 
me  both  meat  and  drink,  and  on  the  eighth  day  I  reached  the 
sea-shore  and  saw  a  party  of  white  men  gathering  pepper,  which 
grew  abundantly  all  about.  Reassured  by  the  nature  of  their 
occupation,  I  advanced  towards  them  and  they  greeted  me  in 
Arabic,  asking  who  I  was  and  whence  I  came.  My  delight  was 
great  on  hearing  this  familiar  speech,  and  I  willingly  satisfied 
their  curiosity,  telling  them  how  I  had  been  shipwrecked,  and 
captured  by  the  blacks.  "  But  these  savages  devour  men !  " 
said  they.  "  How  did  you  escape?  "  I  repeated  to  them  what 
I  have  just  told  you,  at  which  they  were  mightily  astonished. 
I  stayed  with  them  until  they  had  collected  as  much  pepper  as 
they  wished,  and  then  they  took  me  back  to  their  own  country 
and  presented  me  to  their  King,  by  whom  I  was  hospitably  re- 
ceived. To  him  also  I  had  to  relate  my  adventures,  which  sur- 
prised him  much,  and  when  I  had  finished  he  ordered  that  I 
should  be  supplied  with  food  and  raiment  and  treated  with 
consideration. 

The  island  on  which  I  found  myself  was  full  of  people,  and 
abounded  in  all  sorts  of  desirable  things,  and  a  great  deal  of 
traffic  went  on  in  the  capital,  where  I  soon  began  to  feel  at  home 
and  contented.  Moreover,  the  King  treated  me  with  special 
favor,  and  in  consequence  of  this  everyone,  whether  at  the  court 
or  in  the  town,  sought  to  make  life  pleasant  to  me.  One  thing 
1  remarked  which  I  thought  very  strange ;  this  was  that,  from 
the  greatest  to  the  least,  all  men  rode  their  horses  without  bridle 
or  stirrups.  I  one  day  presumed  to  ask  his  Majesty  why  he  did 
not  use  them,  to  which  he  replied,  "  You  speak  to  me  of  things 
of  which  I  have  never  before  heard !  "  This  gave  me  an  idea. 
I  found  a  clever  workman,  and  made  him  cut  out  under  my 


ii6  ARABIAN   NIGHTS 

direction  the  foundation  of  a  saddle,  which  I  wadded  and  cov- 
ered with  choice  leather,  adorning  it  with  rich  gold  embroidery. 
I  then  got  a  locksmith  to  make  me  a  bit  and  a  pair  of  spurs  after 
a  pattern  that  I  drew  for  him,  and  when  all  these  things  were 
completed  I  presented  them  to  the  King  and  showed  him  how  to 
use  them.  When  I  had  saddled  one  of  his  horses  he  mounted 
it  and  rode  about  quite  delighted  with  the  novelty,  and  to  show 
his  gratitude  he  rewarded  me  with  large  gifts.  After  this  I 
had  to  make  saddles  for  all  the  principal  officers  of  the  King's 
household,  and  as  they  all  gave  me  rich  presents  I  soon  became 
very  wealthy  and  quite  an  important  person  in  the  city. 

One  day  the  King  sent  for  me  and  said,  "  Sindbad,  I  am  go- 
ing to  ask  a  favor  of  you.  Both  I  and  my  subjects  esteem  you, 
and  wish  you  to  end  your  days  amongst  us.  Therefore  I  de- 
sire that  you  will  marry  a  rich  and  beautiful  lady  whom  I 
will  find  for  you,  and  think  no  more  of  your  own  country." 

As  the  King's  will  was  law  I  accepted  the  charming  bride  he 
presented  to  me,  and  lived  happily  with  her.  Nevertheless  I 
had  every  intention  of  escaping  at  the  first  opportunity,  and 
going  back  to  Bagdad.  Things  were  thus  going  prosperously 
with  me  when  it  happened  that  the  wife  of  one  of  my  neighbors, 
with  whom  I  had  struck  up  quite  a  friendship,  fell  ill,  and  pres- 
ently died.  I  went  to  his  house  to  offer  my  consolations,  and 
found  him  in  the  depths  of  woe. 

"  Heaven  preserve  you,"  said  I,  "  and  send  you  a  long  life !  " 

"  Alas !  "  he  replied,  "  what  is  the  good  of  saying  that  when 
I  have  but  an  hour  left  to  live !  " 

"  Come,  come !  "  said  I,  "  surely  it  is  not  so  bad  as  all  that. 
I  trust  that  you  may  be  spared  to  me  for  many  years." 

"  I  hope,"  answered  he,  "  that  your  life  may  be  long,  but  as 
for  me,  all  is  finished.  I  have  set  my  house  in  order,  and  to-day 
I  shall  be  buried  with  my  wife.  This  has  been  the  law  upon 
our  island  from  the  earliest  ages — the  living  husband  goes  to 
the  grave  with  his  dead  wife,  the  living  wife  with  her  dead  hus- 
band. So  did  our  fathers,  and  so  must  we  do.  The  law 
changes  not,  and  all  must  submit  to  it !  " 

As  he  spoke  the  friends  and  relations  of  the  unhappy  pair  be- 
gan to  assemble.  The  body,  decked  in  rich  robes  and  sparkling 
with  jewels,  was  laid  upon  an  open  bier,  and  the  procession 
started,  taking  its  way  to  a  high  mountain  at  some  distance 


FOURTH    VOYAGE  1 1  7 

from  the  city,  the  wretched  husband,  clothed  from  head  to  foot 
in  a  black  mantle,  following  mournfully. 

When  the  place  of  interment  was  reached  the  corpse  was  low- 
ered, just  as  it  was,  into  a  deep  pit.  Then  the  husband,  bidding 
farewell  to  all  his  friends,  stretched  himself  upon  another  bier, 
upon  which  were  laid  seven  little  loaves  of  bread  and  a  pitcher 
of  water,  and  he  also  was  let  down-down-down  to  the  depths  of 
the  horrible  cavern,  and  then  a  stone  was  laid  over  the  opening, 
and  the  melancholy  company  wended  its  way  back  to  the  city. 

You  may  imagine  that  I  was  no  unmoved  spectator  of  these 
proceedings ;  to  all  the  others  it  was  a  thing  to  which  they  had 
been  accustomed  from  their  youth  up;  but  I  was  so  horrified 
that  I  could  not  help  telling  the  King  how  it  struck  me. 

"  Sire,"  I  said,  "  I  am  more  astonished  than  I  can  express  to 
you  at  the  strange  custom  which  exists  in  your  dominions  of 
burying  the  living  with  the  dead.  In  all  my  travels  I  have 
never  before  met  with  so  cruel  and  horrible  a  law." 

"  What  would  you  have,  Sindbad?"  he  replied.  "  It  is  the 
law  for  everybody.  I  myself  should  be  buried  with  the  Queen 
if  she  were  the  first  to  die." 

"  But,  your  Majesty,"  said  I,  "  dare  I  ask  if  this  law  applies 
to  foreigners  also  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  replied  the  king  smiling,  in  what  I  could  but 
consider  a  very  heartless  manner :  "  they  are  no  exception  to 
the  rule  if  they  have  married  in  the  country." 

When  I  heard  tliis  I  went  home  much  cast  down,  and  from 
that  time  forward  my  mind  was  never  easy.  If  only  my  wife's 
little  finger  ached  I  fancied  she  was  going  to  die,  and  sure 
enough  before  very  long  she  fell  really  ill  and  in  a  few  days 
breathed  her  last.  My  dismay  was  great,  for  it  seemed  to  me 
that  to  be  buried  alive  was  even  a  worse  fate  than  to  be  devoured 
by  cannibals,  nevertheless  there  was  no  escape.  The  body  of 
my  wife,  arrayed  in  her  richest  robes  and  decked  with  all  her 
jewels,  was  laid  upon  the  bier.  I  follow-ed  it,  and  after  me 
cam.e  a  great  procession,  headed  by  the  king  and  all  his  nobles, 
and  in  this  order  we  reached  the  fatal  mountain,  which  was  one 
of  a  lofty  chain  bordering  the  sea. 

Here  I  made  one  more  frantic  effort  to  excite  the  pity  of  the 
King  and  those  who  stood  by,  hoping  to  save  myself  even  at  this 
last  moment,  but  it  was  of  no  avail.  No  one  spoke  to  me,  they 
even  appeared  to  hasten  over  their  dreadful  task,  and  I  speedily 


ii8  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

found  myself  descending  into  the  gloomy  pit,  with  my  seven 
loaves  and  pitcher  of  water  oeside  me.  Almost  before  i 
reached  the  bottom  the  stone  was  rolled  into  its  place  above  my 
head,  and  I  was  left  to  my  fate.  A  feeble  ray  of  light  shone 
into  the  cavern  through  some  chink,  and  when  I  had  the  cour- 
age to  look  about  me  I  could  see  that  I  was  in  a  vast  vault,  be- 
strewn with  bones  and  bodies  of  the  dead.  I  even  fancied  that 
I  heard  the  expiring  sighs  of  those  who,  like  myself,  had  come 
into  this  dismal  place  alive.  All  in  vain  did  I  shriek  aloud  with 
rage  and  despair,  reproaching  myself  for  the  love  of  gain  and 
adventure  which  had  brought  me  to  such  a  pass,  but  at  length, 
growing  calmer,  I  took  up  my  bread  and  water,  and  wrapping 
my  face  in  my  mantle  I  groped  my  way  towards  the  end  of  the 
cavern,  where  the  air  was  fresher. 

Here  I  hved  in  darkness  and  misery  until  my  provisions  were 
exhausted,  but  just  as  I  was  nearly  dead  from  starvation  the 
rock  was  rolled  away  overhead  and  I  saw  that  a  bier  was  being 
lowered  into  the  cavern,  and  that  the  corpse  upon  it  was  a  man. 
In  a  moment  my  mind  was  made  up,  the  woman  who  followed 
had  nothing  to  expect  but  a  lingering  death ;  I  should  be  doing 
her  a  service  if  I  shortened  her  misery.  Therefore  when  she 
descended,  already  insensible  from  terror,  I  was  ready  armed 
with  a  huge  bone,  one  blow  from  which  left  her  dead,  and  I  se- 
cured the  bread  and  water  which  gave  me  a  hope  of  life.  Sev- 
eral times  did  I  have  recourse  to  this  desperate  expedient,  and 
I  know  not  how  long  I  had  been  a  prisoner  when  one  day  I  fan- 
cied that  I  heard  something  near  me,  which  breathed  loudly. 
Turning  to  the  place  from  which  the  sound  came  I  dimly  saw  a 
shadowy  form  which  fled  at  my  movement,  squeezing  itself 
through  a  cranny  in  the  wall.  I  pursued  it  as  fast  as  I  could, 
and  found  myself  in  a  narrow  crack  among  the  rocks,  along 
which  I  was  just  able  to  force  my  way.  I  followed  it  for  what 
seemed  to  me  many  miles,  and  at  last  saw  before  me  a  glimmer 
of  light  which  grew  clearer  every  moment  until  I  emerged  upon 
the  sea-shore  with  a  joy  which  I  cannot  describe.  When  I  was 
sure  that  I  was  not  dreaming,  I  realized  that  it  was  doubtless 
some  little  animal  which  had  found  its  way  into  the  cavern  from 
the  sea,  and  when  disturbed  had  fled,  showing  me  a  means  of 
escape  which  I  could  never  have  discovered  for  myself.  I 
hastily  surveyed  my  surroundings,  and  saw  that  I  was  safe 
from  all  pursuit  from  the  town. 


FOURTH   VOYAGE  119 

The  mountains  sloped  sheer  down  to  the  sea,  and  there  was 
no  road  across  them.  Being  assured  of  this  I  returned  to  the 
cavern,  and  amassed  a  rich  treasure  of  diamonds,  rubies,  emer- 
alds and  jewels  of  all  kinds,  which  strewed  the  ground.  These 
I  made  up  into  bales,  and  stored  them  into  a  safe  place  upon  the 
beach,  and  then  waited  hopefully  for  the  passing  of  a  ship,  I 
had  looked  out  for  two  days,  however,  before  a  single  sail  ap- 
peared, so  it  was  with  much  delight  that  I  at  last  saw  a  vessel 
not  very  far  from  the  shore,  and  by  waving  my  arms  and  utter- 
ing loud  cries  succeeded  in  attracting  the  attention  of  her  crew, 
A  boat  was  sent  off  to  me,  and  in  answer  to  the  questions  of  the 
sailors  as  to  how  I  came  to  be  in  such  a  plight,  I  replied  that  I 
had  been  shipwrecked  two  days  before,  but  had  managed  to 
scramble  ashore  with  the  bales  which  I  pointed  out  to  them. 
Luckily  for  me  they  believed  my  story,  and  without  even  look- 
ing at  the  place  where  they  found  me,  took  up  my  bundles,  and 
rowed  me  back  to  the  ship.  Once  on  board,  I  soon  saw  that 
the  captain  was  too  much  occupied  with  the  difficulties  of  navi- 
gation to  pay  much  heed  to  me,  though  he  generously  made  me 
welcome,  and  would  not  even  accept  the  jew^els  with  which  I 
offered  to  pay  my  passage.  Our  voyage  was  prosperous,  and 
after  visiting  many  lands,  and  collecting  in  each  place  great 
store  of  goodly  merchandise,  I  found  myself  at  last  in  Bagdad 
once  more  with  unheard-of  riches  of  every  description.  Again 
I  gave  large  sums  of  money  to  the  poor,  and  enriched  all  the 
mosques  in  the  city,  after  which  I  gave  myself  up  to  my  friends 
and  relations,  with  whom  I  passed  my  time  in  feasting  and  mer- 
riment. 

Here  Sindbad  paused,  and  all  his  hearers  declared  that  the 
adventures  of  his  fourth  voyage  had  pleased  them  better  than 
anything  they  had  heard  before.  They  then  took  their  leave, 
followed  by  Hindbad,  who  had  once  more  received  a  hundred 
sequins,  and  with  the  rest  had  been  bidden  to  return  next  day 
for  the  story  of  the  fifth  voyage. 

When  the  time  came  all  were  in  their  places,  and  when  they 
had  eaten  and  drunk  of  all  that  was  set  before  them  Sindbad 
began  his  tale. 


FIFTH   VOYAGE 

NOT  even  all  that  I  had  gone  through  could  make  me  con- 
tented with  a  quiet  life.  1  soon  wearied  of  its  pleas- 
ures, and  longed  for  change  and  adventure.  There- 
fore I  set  out  once  more,  but  this  time  in  a  ship  of  my  own, 
which  I  built  and  fitted  out  at  the  nearest  seaport.  I  wished 
to  be  able  to  call  at  whatever  port  I  chose,  taking  my  own 
time;  but  as  I  did  not  intend  carrying  enough  goods  for  a 
full  cargo,  I  invited  several  merchants  of  different  nations  to 
join  me.  We  set  sail  with  the  first  favorable  wind,  and  after  a 
long  voyage  upon  the  open  seas  we  landed  upon  an  unknown 
island  which  proved  to  be  uninhabited.  We  determined,  how- 
ever, to  explore  it,  but  had  not  gone  far  when  we  found  a  roc's 
egg,  as  large  as  the  one  I  had  seen  before  and  evidently  very 
nearly  hatched,  for  the  beak  of  the  young  bird  had  already 
pierced  the  shell.  In  spite  of  all  I  could  say  to  deter  them,  the 
merchants  who  were  with  me  fell  upon  it  with  their  hatchets, 
breaking  the  shell,  and  killing  the  young  roc.  Then  lighting  a 
fire  upon  the  ground  they  hacked  morsels  from  the  bird,  and 
proceeded  to  roast  them  while  I  stood  by  aghast. 

Scarcely  had  they  finished  their  ill-omened  repast,  when  the 
air  above  us  was  darkened  by  two  mighty  shadows.  The  cap- 
tain of  my  ship,  knowing  by  experience  what  this  meant,  cried 
out  to  us  that  the  parent  birds  were  coming,  and  urged  us  to  get 
on  board  with  all  speed.  This  we  did,  and  the  sails  were 
hoisted,  but  before  we  had  made  any  way  the  rocs  reached  their 
despoiled  nest  and  hovered  about  it,  uttering  frightful  cries 
when  they  discovered  the  mangled  remains  of  their  young  one. 
For  a  moment  we  lost  sight  of  them,  and  were  flattering  our- 
selves that  we  had  escaped,  when  they  reappeared  and  soared 
into  the  air  directly  over  our  vessel,  and  we  saw  that  each  held 
in  its  claws  an  immense  rock  ready  to  crush  us.  There  was  a 
moment  of  breathless  suspense,  then  one  bird  loosed  its  hold 
and  the  huge  block  of  stone  hurtled  through  the  air,  but  thanks 

120 


i 


FIFTH   VOYAGE  12! 

to  the  presence  of  mind  of  the  helmsman,  who  turned  our  ship 
violently  in  another  direction,  it  fell  into  the  sea  close  beside  us, 
cleaving  it  asunder  till  we  could  nearly  see  the  bottom.  We 
had  hardly  time  to  draw  a  breath  of  relief  before  the  other  rock 
fell  with  a  mighty  crash  right  in  the  midst  of  our  luckless  ves- 
sel, smashing  it  into  a  thousand  fragments,  and  crushing,  or 
hurling  into  the  sea,  passengers  and  crew.  I  myself  went  down 
with  the  rest,  but  had  the  good  fortune  to  rise  unhurt,  and  by 
holding  on  to  a  piece  of  driftwood  with  one  hand  and  swimming 
with  the  other  I  kept  myself  afloat  and  was  presently  washed  up 
by  the  tide  on  to  an  island.  Its  shores  were  steep  and  rocky, 
but  I  scrambled  up  safely  and  threw  myself  down  to  rest  upon 
the  green  turf. 

When  I  had  somewhat  recovered  I  began  to  examine  the  spot 
in  which  I  found  myself,  and  truly  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had 
reached  a  garden  of  delights.  There  were  trees  everywhere, 
and  they  were  laden  with  flowers  and  fruit,  while  a  crystal 
stream  wandered  in  and  out  under  their  shadow.  When  night 
came  I  slept  sweetly  in  a  cosey  nook,  though  the  remembrance 
that  I  was  alone  in  a  strange  land  made  me  sometimes  start  up 
and  look  around  me  in  alarm,  and  then  I  wished  heartily  that  I 
had  stayed  at  home  at  ease.  However,  the  morning  sunlight  re- 
stored my  courage,  and  I  once  more  wandered  among  the  trees, 
but  always  with  some  anxiety  as  to  what  I  might  see  next.  I 
had  penetrated  some  distance  into  the  island  when  I  saw  an  old 
man  bent  and  feeble  sitting  upon  the  river  bank,  and  at  first  I 
took  him  to  be  some  shipwrecked  mariner  like  myself.  Going 
up  to  him  I  greeted  him  in  a  friendly  way,  but  he  only  nodded 
his  head  at  me  in  reply.  I  then  asked  what  he  did  there,  and  he 
made  signs  to  me  that  he  wished  to  get  across  the  river  to  gather 
some  fruit,  and  seemed  to  beg  me  to  carry  him  on  my  back. 
Pitying  his  age  and  feebleness,  I  took  him  up,  and  wading 
across  the  stream  I  bent  down  that  he  might  more  easily  reach 
the  bank,  and  bade  him  get  down.  But  instead  of  allowing 
himself  to  be  set  upon  his  feet  (even  now  it  makes  me  laugh 
to  think  of  it !),  this  creature  who  had  seemed  to  me  so  decrepit 
leaped  nimbly  upon  my  shoulders,  and  hooking  his  legs  round 
my  neck  gripped  me  so  tightly  that  I  was  well-nigh  choked, 
and  so  overcome  with  terror  that  I  fell  insensible  to  the  ground. 
When  I  recovered  my  enemy  was  still  in  his  place,  though  he 
had  released  his  hold  enough  to  allow  me  breathing  space,  and 


1^2  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

seeing  me  revive  he  prodded  me  adroitly  first  with  one  foot  and 
then  with  the  other,  until  I  was  forced  to  get  up  and  stagger 
about  with  him  under  the  trees  while  he  gathered  and  ate  the 
choicest  fruits.  This  went  on  all  day,  and  even  at  night,  when 
I  threw  myself  down  half  dead  with  weariness,  the  terrible  old 
man  held  on  tight  to  my  neck,  nor  did  he  fail  to  greet  the  first 
glimmer  of  morning  light  by  drumming  upon  me  with  his  heels, 
until  I  perforce  awoke  and  resumed  my  dreary  march  with  rage 
and  bitterness  in  my  heart. 

It  happened  one  day  that  I  passed  a  tree  under  which  lay 
several  dry  gourds,  and  catching  one  up  I  amused  myself  with 
scooping  out  its  contents  and  pressing  into  it  the  juice  of  sev- 
eral bunches  of  grapes  which  hung  from  every  bush.  When  it 
was  full  I  left  it  propped  in  the  fork  of  a  tree,  and  a  few  days 
later,  carrying  the  hateful  old  man  that  way,  I  snatched  at  my 
gourd  as  I  passed  it  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  a  draught  of 
excellent  wine  so  good  and  refreshing  that  I  even  forgot  my  de- 
testable burden,  and  began  to  sing  and  caper. 

The  old  monster  was  not  slow  to  perceive  the  effect  which  my 
draught  had  produced  and  that  I  carried  him  more  lightly  than 
usual,  so  he  stretched  out  his  skinny  hand  and  seizing  the  gourd 
first  tasted  its  contents  cautiously,  then  drained  them  to  the  very 
last  drop.  The  wine  was  strong  and  the  gourd  capacious,  so  he 
also  began  to  sing  after  a  fashion,  and  soon  I  had  the  delight 
of  feeling  the  iron  grip  of  his  goblin  legs  unclasp,  and  with  one 
vigorous  effort  I  threw  him  to  the  ground,  from  which  he  never 
moved  again.  I  was  so  rejoiced  to  have  at  last  got  rid  of  this 
uncanny  old  man  that  I  ran  leaping  and  bounding  down  to  the 
sea-shore,  where,  by  the  greatest  good  luck,  I  met  with  some 
mariners  who  had  anchored  off  the  island  to  enjoy  the  delicious 
fruits,  and  to  renew  their  supply  of  water. 

They  heard  the  story  of  my  escape  with  amazement,  saying, 
"  You  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Old  Man  of  the  Sea,  and  it  is  a 
mercy  that  he  did  not  strangle  you  as  he  has  everyone  else  upon 
whose  shoulders  he  has  managed  to  perch  himself.  This  island 
is  well-known  as  the  scene  of  his  evil  deeds,  and  no  merchant  or 
sailor  who  lands  upon  it  cares  to  stray  far  away  from  his  com- 
rades." After  we  had  talked  for  awhile  they  took  me  back 
with  them  on  board  their  ship,  where  the  captain  received  me 
kindly,  and  we  soon  set  sail,  and  after  several  days  reached  a 
large  and  prosperous-looking  town  where  all  the  houses  were 


t'IFTH   VOYAGE  123 

built  of  stone.  Here  we  anchored,  and  one  of  the  merchants, 
who  had  been  very  friendly  to  me  on  the  way,  took  me  ashore 
with  him  and  showed  me  a  lodging  set  apart  for  strange  mer- 
chants. He  then  provided  me  with  a  large  sack,  and  pointed 
out  to  me  a  party  of  others  equipped  in  like  manner. 

"  Go  with  them,"  said  he,  "  and  do  as  they  do,  but  beware  of 
losing  sight  of  them,  for  if  you  strayed  your  life  would  be  in 
danger." 

With  that  he  supplied  me  with  provisions,  and  bade  me  fare- 
well, and  I  set  out  with  my  new  companions.  I  soon  learnt 
that  the  object  of  our  expedition  was  to  fill  our  sacks  with  cocoa- 
nuts,  but  when  at  length  I  saw  the  trees  and  noted  their  im- 
mense height  and  the  slippery  smoothness  of  their  slender 
trunks,  I  did  not  at  all  understand  how  we  were  to  do  it.  The 
crowns  of  the  cocoa-palms  were  all  alive  with  monkeys,  big  and 
little,  which  skipped  from  one  to  the  other  with  surprising 
agility,  seeming  to  be  curious  about  us  and  disturbed  at  our 
appearance,  and  I  was  at  first  surprised  when  my  companions 
after  collecting  stones  began  to  throw  them  at  the  lively  creat- 
ures, which  seemed  to  me  quite  harmless.  But  very  soon  I 
saw  the  reason  of  it  and  joined  them  heartily,  for  the  monkeys, 
annoyed  and  wishing  to  pay  us  back  in  our  own  coin,  began  to 
tear  the  nuts  from  the  trees  and  cast  them  at  us  with  angry  and 
spiteful  gestures,  so  that  after  very  little  labor  our  sacks  were 
filled  with  the  fruit  which  we  could  not  otherwise  have  ob- 
tained. 

As  soon  as  we  had  as  many  as  we  could  carry  we  went  back 
to  the  town,  where  my  friend  bought  my  share  and  advised  me 
to  continue  the  same  occupation  until  I  had  earned  money 
enough  to  carry  me  to  my  own  country.  This  I  did,  and  before 
long  had  amassed  a  considerable  sum.  Just  then  I  heard  that 
there  was  a  trading  ship  ready  to  sail,  and  taking  leave  of  my 
friend  I  went  on  board,  carrying  with  me  a  goodly  store  of 
cocoanuts;  and  we  sailed  first  to  the  islands  where  pepper 
grows,  then  to  Comari  where  the  best  aloes- wood  is  found,  and 
where  men  drink  no  wine  by  an  unalterable  law.  Here  I  ex- 
changed my  nuts  for  pepper  and  good  aloes-wood,  and  went  a- 
fishing  for  pearls  with  some  of  the  other  merchants,  and  my 
divers  were  so  lucky  that  very  soon  1  had  an  immense  number, 
and  those  very  large  and  perfect.  With  all  these  treasures  I 
came  joyfully  back  to  Bagdad,  where  1  disposed  of  them  for 


144  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

large  sums  of  money,  of  which  I  did  not  fail  as  before  to  give 
the  tenth  part  to  the  poor,  and  after  that  I  rested  from  my  labors 
and  comforted  myself  with  all  the  pleasures  that  my  riches 
could  give  me. 

Having  thus  ended  his  stor}',  Sindbad  ordered  that  one  hun- 
dred sequins  should  be  given  to  Hindbad,  and  the  guests  then 
withdrew ;  but  after  the  next  day's  feast  he  began  the  account 
of  his  sixth  voyage  as  follows. 


SIXTH   VOYAGE 

IT  must  be  a  marvel  to  you  how,  after  having  five  times  met 
with  shipwreck  and  unheard-of  perils,  I  could  again  tempt 
fortune  and  risk  fresh  trovible.  I  am  even  surprised  my- 
self when  I  look  back,  but  evidently  it  was  my  fate  to  rove,  and 
after  a  year  of  repose  I  prepared  to  make  a  sixth  voyage,  re- 
gardless of  the  entreaties  of  my  friends  and  relations,  who  did 
all  they  could  to  keep  me  at  home.  Instead  of  going  by  the 
Persian  Gulf,  I  travelled  a  considerable  way  overland,  and 
finally  embarked  from  a  distant  Indian  port  with  a  captain  who 
meant  to  make  a  long  voyage.  And  truly  he  did  so,  for  we  fell 
in  with  stormy  weather  which  drove  us  completely  out  of  our 
course,  so  that  for  many  days  neither  captain  nor  pilot  knew 
where  we  were,  nor  where  we  were  going.  When  they  did  at 
last  discover  our  position  we  had  small  ground  for  rejoicing, 
for  the  captain,  casting  his  turban  upon  the  deck  and  tearing 
his  beard,  declared  that  we  were  in  the  most  dangerous  spot 
upon  the  whole  wide  sea,  and  had  been  caught  by  a  current 
which  was  at  that  moment  sweeping  us  to  destruction.  It  was 
too  true !  In  spite  of  all  the  sailors  could  do  we  were  driven 
wnth  frightful  rapidity  towards  the  foot  of  a  mountain,  which 
rose  sheer  out  of  the  sea,  and  our  vessel  was  dashed  to  pieces 
upon  the  rocks  at  its  base,  not,  however,  until  we  had  managed 
to  scramble  on  shore,  carrying  with  us  the  most  precious  of  our 
possessions.     When  we  had  done  this  the  captain  said  to  us : — 

"  Now  we  are  here  we  may  as  well  begin  to  dig  our  graves 
at  once,  since  from  this  fatal  spot  no  shipwrecked  mariner  has 
ever  returned." 

This  speech  discouraged  us  much,  and  we  began  to  lament 
over  our  sad  fate. 

The  mountain  formed  the  seaward  boundary  of  a  large  isl- 
and, and  the  narrow  strip  of  rocky  shore  upon  which  we  stood 
was  strewn  with  the  wreckage  of  a  thousand  gallant  ships, 
while  the  bones  of  the  luckless  mariners  shone  white  in  the  sun- 
125 


t26  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

shine,  and  we  shuddered  to  think  how  soon  our  own  would  be 
added  to  the  heap.  All  around,  too,  lay  vast  quantities  of  the 
costliest  merchandise,  and  treasures  were  heaped  in  every  cranny 
of  the  rocks,  but  all  these  things  only  added  to  the  desolation  of 
the  scene.  It  struck  me  as  a  very  strange  thing  that  a  river 
of  clear  fresh  water,  which  gushed  out  from  the  mountain  not 
far  from  where  we  stood,  instead  of  flowing  into  the  sea  as 
rivers  generally  do,  turned  off  sharply,  and  flowed  out  of  sight 
under  a  natural  archway  of  rock,  and  when  I  went  to  examine 
it  more  closely  I  found  that  inside  the  cave  the  walls  were  thick 
with  diamonds,  rubies,  and  masses  of  crystal,  and  the  floor 
was  strewn  with  ambergris.  Here,  then,  upon  this  desolate 
shore  we  abandoned  ourselves  to  our  fate,  for  there  was  no  pos- 
sibility of  scaling  the  mountain,  and  if  a  ship  had  appeared  it 
could  only  have  shared  our  doom.  The  first  thing  our  captain 
did  was  to  divide  equally  amongst  us  all  the  food  we  possessed, 
and  then  the  length  of  each  man's  life  depended  on  the  time  he 
could  make  his  portion  last.  I  myself  could  live  upon  very 
little. 

Nevertheless,  by  the  time  I  had  buried  the  last  of  my  com- 
panions my  stock  of  provisions  was  so  small  that  I  hardly 
thought  I  should  live  long  enough  to  dig  my  own  grave,  which 
I  set  about  doing,  while  I  regretted  bitterly  the  roving  disposi- 
tion which  was  always  bringing  me  into  such  straits,  and 
thought  longingly  of  all  the  comfort  and  luxury  that  I  had  left. 
But  luckily  for  me  the  fancy  took  me  to  stand  once  more  beside 
the  river  where  it  plunged  out  of  sight  in  the  depths  of  the  cav- 
ern, and  as  I  did  so  an  idea  struck  me.  This  river  which  hid  it- 
self underground  doubtless  emerged  again  at  some  distant  spot. 
Why  should  I  not  build  a  raft  and  trust  myself  to  its  swiftly 
flowing  waters?  If  I  perished  before  I  could  reach  the  light 
of  day  once  more  I  should  be  no  worse  off  than  I  was  now,  for 
death  stared  me  in  the  face,  while  there  was  always  the  possi- 
bility that,  as  I  was  born  under  a  lucky  star,  I  might  find  myself 
safe  and  sound  in  some  desirable  land.  I  decided  at  any  rate 
to  risk  it,  and  speedily  built  myself  a  stout  raft  of  drift-wood 
with  strong  cords,  of  which  enough  and  to  spare  lay  strewn 
upon  the  beach.  I  then  made  up  many  packages  of  rubies,  em- 
eralds, rock  crystal,  ambergris,  and  precious  stuffs,  and  bound 
them  upon  my  raft,  being  careful  to  preserve  the  balance,  and 
then  I  seated  myself  upon  it,  having  two  small  oars  that  I  had 


SIXTH    VOYAGE  127 

fashioned  laid  ready  to  my  hand,  and  loosed  the  cord  which  held 
it  to  the  bank.  Once  out  in  the  current  my  raft  flew  swiftly 
under  the  gloomy  archway,  and  I  found  myself  in  total  dark- 
ness, carried  smoothly  forward  by  the  rapid  river.  On  I  went 
as  it  seemed  to  me  for  many  nights  and  days.  Once  the  chan- 
nel became  so  small  that  I  had  a  narrow  escape  of  being  crushed 
against  the  rocky  roof,  and  after  that  I  took  the  precaution  of 
lying  flat  upon  my  precious  bales.  Though  I  only  ate  what  was 
absolutely  necessary  to  keep  myself  alive,  the  inevitable  mo- 
ment came  when,  after  swallowing  my  last  morsel  of  food,  I 
began  to  wonder  if  I  must  after  all  die  of  hunger.  Then,  worn 
out  with  anxiety  and  fatigue,  I  fell  into  a  deep  sleep,  and  when 
I  again  opened  my  eyes  I  was  once  more  in  the  light  of  day ;  a 
beautiful  country  lay  before  me,  and  my  raft,  which  was  tied  to 
the  river  bank,  was  surrounded  by  friendly  looking  black  men. 
I  rose  and  saluted  them,  and  they  spoke  to  me  in  return,  but  I 
could  not  understand  a  word  of  their  language.  Feeling  per- 
fectly bewildered  by  my  sudden  return  to  life  and  light,  I 
murmured  to  myself  in  Arabic,  "  Close  thine  eyes,  and  while 
thou  sleepest  Heaven  will  change  thy  fortune  from  evil  to 
good." 

One  of  the  natives,  who  understood  this  tongue,  then  came 
forward  saying: — 

"  My  brother,  be  not  surprised  to  see  us ;  this  is  our  land, 
and  as  we  came  to  get  water  from  the  river  we  noticed  your  raft 
floating  down  it,  and  one  of  us  swam  out  and  brought  you  to 
the  shore.  We  have  waited  for  your  awakening ;  tell  us  now 
whence  you  come  and  where  you  were  going  by  that  dangerous 
way  ?  " 

I  replied  that  nothing  would  please  me  better  than  to  tell 
them,  but  that  I  was  starving,  and  would  fain  eat  something 
first.  I  w^as  soon  supplied  with  all  I  needed,  and  having  satis- 
fied my  hunger  I  told  them  faithfully  all  that  had  befallen  me. 
They  were  lost  in  wonder  at  my  tale  when  it  was  interpreted  to 
them,  and  said  that  adventures  so  surprising  must  be  related  to 
their  King  only  by  the  man  to  whom  they  had  happened.  So, 
procuring  a  horse,  they  mounted  me  upon  it,  and  we  set  out, 
followed  by  several  strong  men  carrying  my  raft  just  as  it  was 
upon  their  shoulders.  In  this  order  we  marched  into  the  city 
of  Serendib,  where  the  natives  presented  me  to  their  King, 
whom  I  saluted  in  the  Indian  fashion,  prostrating  myself  at 


128  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

his  feet  and  kissing  the  ground ;  but  the  monarch  bade  me 
rise  and  sit  beside  him,  asking  first  what  was  my  name. 

"  I  am  Sindbad,"  I  repHed,  "  whom  men  call  '  the  Sailor,'  for 
I  have  voyaged  much  upon  many  seas." 

"  And  how  came  you  here  ?  "  asked  the  King. 

I  told  my  story,  concealing  nothing,  and  his  surprise  and  de- 
light were  so  great  that  he  ordered  my  adventures  to  be  written 
in  letters  of  gold  and  laid  up  in  the  archives  of  his  kingdom. 

Presently  my  raft  was  brought  in  and  the  bales  opened  in  his 
presence,  and  the  king  declared  that  in  all  his  treasury  there 
were  no  such  rubies  and  emeralds  as  those  which  lay  in  great 
heaps  before  him.  Seeing  that  he  looked  at  them  with  interest, 
I  ventured  to  say  that  I  myself  and  all  that  I  had  were  at  his 
disposal,  but  he  answered  me  smiling: — 

"  Nay,  Sindbad.  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  covet  your 
riches  ;  I  will  rather  add  to  them,  for  I  desire  that  you  shall  not 
leave  my  kingdom  without  some  tokens  of  my  good-will."  He 
then  commanded  his  officers  to  provide  me  with  a  suitable  lodg- 
ing at  his  expense,  and  sent  slaves  to  wait  upon  me  and  carry 
my  raft  and  my  bales  to  my  new  dwelling-place.  You  may 
imagine  that  I  praised  his  generosity  and  gave  him  grateful 
thanks,  nor  did  I  fail  to  present  myself  daily  in  his  audience- 
chamber,  and  for  the  rest  of  my  time  I  amused  myself  in  seeing 
all  that  was  most  worthy  of  attention  in  the  city.  The  island  of 
Serendib  being  situated  on  the  equinoctial  line,  the  days  and 
nights  there  are  of  equal  length.  The  chief  city  is  placed  at  the 
end  of  a  beautiful  valley,  formed  by  the  highest  mountain  in  the 
world,  which  is  in  the  middle  of  the  island.  I  had  the  curi- 
osity to  ascend  to  its  very  summit,  for  this  was  the  place  to 
which  Adam  was  banished  out  of  Paradise.  Here  are  found 
rubies  and  many  precious  things,  and  rare  plants  grow  abun- 
dantly, with  cedar-trees  and  cocoa-palms.  On  the  sea-shore 
and  at  the  mouths  of  the  rivers  the  divers  seek  for  pearls,  and 
in  some  valleys  diamonds  are  plentiful.  After  many  days  I  peti- 
tioned the  King  that  I  might  return  to  my  own  country,  to  which 
he  graciously  consented.  Moreover,  he  loaded  me  with  rich 
gifts,  and  when  I  went  to  take  leave  of  him  he  intrusted  me 
with  a  royal  present  and  a  letter  to  the  Commander  of  the  Faith- 
ful, our  sovereign  lord,  saying,  "  I  pray  you  give  these  to  the 
Caliph  Harun-al-Rashid,  and  assure  him  of  my  friendship." 

I  accepted  the  charge  respectfully,  and  soon  embarked  upon 


SIXTH    VOYAGE  129 

the  vessel  which  the  King  himself  had  chosen  for  me.  The 
King's  letter  was  written  in  blue  characters  upon  a  rare  and  pre- 
cious skin  of  yellowish  color,  and  these  were  the  words  of  it: 
"  The  King  of  the  Indies,  before  whom  walk  a  thousand  ele- 
phants, who  lives  in  a  palace,  of  which  the  roof  blazes  with  a 
hundred  thousand  rubies,  and  whose  treasure-house  contains 
twenty  thousand  diamond  crowns,  to  the  Caliph  Harun-al- 
Rashid  sends  greeting.  Though  the  offering  we  present  to 
you  is  unworthy  of  your  notice,  we  pray  you  to  accept  it  as  a 
mark  of  the  esteem  and  friendship  which  we  cherish  for  you, 
and  of  which  we  gladly  send  you  this  token,  and  we  ask  of  you  a 
like  regard  if  you  deem  us  worthy  of  it.     Adieu,  brother," 

The  present  consisted  of  a  vase  carved  from  a  single  ruby,  six 
inches  high  and  as  thick  as  my  finger ;  this  was  filled  with  the 
choicest  pearls,  large,  and  of  perfect  shape  and  lustre;  sec- 
ondly, a  huge  snake-skin,  with  scales  as  large  as  a  sequin,  which 
would  preserve  from  sickness  those  who  slept  upon  it.  Then 
quantities  of  aloes-wood,  camphor,  and  pistachio-nuts ;  and 
lastly,  a  beautiful  slave-girl,  whose  robes  glittered  with  pre- 
cious stones. 

After  a  long  and  prosperous  voyage  we  landed  at  Balsora, 
and  I  made  haste  to  reach  Bagdad,  and  taking  the  King's  letter 
I  presented  myself  at  the  palace  gate,  followed  by  the  beautiful 
slave,  and  various  members  of  my  own  family,  bearing  the 
treasure. 

As  soon  as  I  had  declared  my  errand  I  was  conducted  into  the 
presence  of  the  Caliph,  to  whom,  after  I  had  made  my  obeisance, 
I  gave  the  letter  and  the  King's  gift,  and  when  he  had  exam- 
ined them  he  demanded  of  me  whether  the  Prince  of  Serendib 
was  really  as  rich  and  powerful  as  he  claimed  to  be. 

"  Commander  of  the  Faithful,"  I  replied,  again  bowing  hum- 
bly before  him,  "  I  can  assure  your  Majesty  that  he  has  in  no 
way  exaggerated  his  wealth  and  grandeur.  Nothing  can  equal 
the  magnificence  of  his  palace.  When  he  goes  abroad  his  throne 
is  prepared  upon  the  back  of  an  elephant,  and  on  either  side  of 
him  ride  his  ministers,  his  favorites,  and  courtiers.  On  his 
elephant's  neck  sits  an  officer,  his  golden  lance  in  his  hand,  and 
behind  him  stands  another  bearing  a  pillar  of  gold,  at  the  top  of 
which  is  an  emerald  as  long  as  my  hand.  A  thousand  men  in 
cloth  of  gold,  mounted  upon  richly  caparisoned  elephants,  go 
before  him,  and  as  the  procession  moves  onward  the  officer  who 
Vol.  IVa.— 9 


13©  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

guides  his  elephant  cries  aloud,  '  Behold  the  mighty  monarch, 
the  powerful  and  valiant  Sultan  of  the  Indies,  whose  palace  is 
covered  with  a  hundred  thousand  rubies,  who  possesses  twenty 
thousand  diamond  crowns.  Behold  a  monarch  greater  than 
Solomon  and  Mihrage  in  all  their  glory ! ' 

"  Then  the  one  who  stands  behind  the  throne  answers :  '  This 
king,  so  great  and  powerful,  must  die,  must  die,  must  die ! ' 

"  And  the  first  takes  up  the  chant  again,  '  All  praise  to  Him 
who  lives  for  evermore.' 

"  Further,  my  lord,  in  Serendib  no  judge  is  needed,  for  to 
the  King  himself  his  people  come  for  justice." 

The  Caliph  was  well  satisfied  with  my  report. 

"  From  the  King's  letter,"  said  he,  "  I  judged  that  he  was  a 
wise  man.  It  seems  that  he  is  worthy  of  his  people,  and  his 
people  of  him." 

So  saying  he  dismissed  me  with  rich  presents,  and  I  returned 
in  peace  to  my  own  house. 

When  Sindbad  had  done  speaking  his  guests  withdrew, 
Hindbad  having  first  received  a  hundred  sequins,  but  all  re- 
turned next  day  to  hear  the  story  of  the  seventh  voyage. 


SEVENTH  AND  LAST  VOYAGE 

AFTER  my  sixth  voyage  I  was  quite  determined  that  I 
would  go  to  sea  no  more.  I  was  now  of  an  age  to  ap- 
preciate a  quiet  life,  and  I  had  run  risks  enough.  I 
only  wished  to  end  my  days  in  peace.  One  day,  however,  when 
I  was  entertaining  a  number  of  my  friends,  I  was  told  that  an 
officer  of  the  Caliph  wished  to  speak  to  me,  and  when  he  was  ad- 
mitted he  bade  me  to  follow  him  into  the  presence  of  Harun-al- 
Rashid,  which  I  accordingly  did.  After  I  had  saluted  him, 
the  Caliph  said : — 

"  I  have  sent  for  you,  Sindbad,  because  I  need  your  services. 
I  have  chosen  you  to  bear  a  letter  and  a  gift  to  the  King  of 
Serendib  in  return  for  his  message  of  friendship." 

The  Caliph's  commandment  fell  upon  me  like  a  thunderbolt. 

"  Commander  of  the  Faithful,"  I  answered,  "  I  am  ready  to 
do  all  that  your  Majesty  commands,  but  I  humbly  pray  you  to 
remember  that  I  am  utterly  disheartened  by  the  unheard-of 
sufferings  I  have  undergone.  Indeed,  I  have  made  a  vow  never 
again  to  leave  Bagdad." 

With  this  I  gave  him  a  long  account  of  some  of  my  strangest 
adventures,  to  which  he  listened  patiently. 

"  I  admit,"  said  he,  "  that  you  have  indeed  had  some  extraor- 
dinary experiences,  but  I  do  not  see  why  they  should  hinder 
you  from  doing  as  I  wish.  You  have  only  to  go  straight  to 
Serendib  and  give  my  message,  then  you  are  free  to  come  back 
and  do  as  you  will.  But  go  you  must ;  my  honor  and  dignity 
demand  it." 

Seeing  that  there  was  no  help  for  it,  I  declared  myself  willing 
to  obey ;  and  the  Caliph,  delighted  at  having  got  his  own  way, 
gave  me  a  thousand  sequins  for  the  expenses  of  the  voyage.  I 
was  soon  ready  to  start,  and  taking  the  letter  and  the  present  I 
embarked  at  Balsora,  and  sailed  quickly  and  safely  to  Serendib. 
Here,  when  I  had  disclosed  my  errand,  I  was  well  received,  and 
brought  into  the  presence  of  the  king,  who  greeted  me  with  joy. 
131 


13^ 


ARABIAN    NIGHTS 


"  Welcome,  Sindbad,"  he  cried.  "  I  have  thought  of  you 
often,  and  rejoice  to  see  you  once  more." 

After  thanking  him  for  the  honor  that  he  did  me,  I  displayed 
the  Caliph's  gifts.  First  a  bed  with  complete  hangings  all 
cloth  of  gold,  which  cost  a  thousand  sequins,  and  another  like  to 
it  of  crimson  stuff.  Fifty  robes  of  rich  embroidery,  a  hundred 
of  the  finest  white  linen  from  Cairo,  Suez,  Cufa,  and  Alexan- 
dria. Then  more  beds  of  different  fashion,  and  an  agate  vase 
carved  with  the  figure  of  a  man  aiming  an  arrow  at  a  lion,  and 
finally  a  costly  table,  which  had  once  belonged  to  King  Solo- 
mon. The  King  of  Serendib  received  with  satisfaction  the  as- 
surance of  the  Caliph's  friendliness  towards  him,  and  now  my 
task  being  accomplished  I  was  anxious  to  depart,  but  it  was 
some  time  before  the  king  would  think  of  letting  me  go.  At 
last,  however,  he  dismissed  me  with  many  presents,  and  I  lost 
no  time  in  going  on  board  a  ship,  which  sailed  at  once,  and  for 
four  days  all  went  well.  On  the  fifth  day  we  had  the  misfor- 
tune to  fall  in  with  pirates,  who  seized  our  vessel,  killing  all 
who  resisted,  and  making  prisoners  of  those  who  were  prudent 
enough  to  submit  at  once,  of  whom  I  was  one.  When  they  had 
despoiled  us  of  all  we  possessed,  they  forced  us  to  put  on  vile 
raiment,  and  sailing  to  a  distant  island  there  sold  us  for  slaves. 
I  fell  into  the  hands  of  a  rich  merchant,  who  took  me  home  with 
him,  and  clothed  and  fed  me  well,  and  after  some  days  sent  for 
me  and  questioned  me  as  to  what  I  could  do. 

I  answered  that  I  was  a  rich  merchant  who  had  been  cap- 
tured by  pirates,  and  therefore  I  knew  no  trade. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  he,  "  can  you  shoot  with  a  bow?  " 

I  replied  that  this  had  been  one  of  the  pastimes  of  my  youth, 
and  that  doubtless  with  practice  my  skill  would  come  back  to 
me. 

Upon  this  he  provided  me  with  a  bow  and  arrows,  and 
mounting  me  with  him  upon  his  own  elephant  took  the  way  to 
a  vast  forest  which  lay  far  from  the  town.  When  we  had 
reached  the  wildest  part  of  it  we  stopped,  and  my  master  said 
to  me :  "  This  forest  swarms  with  elephants.  Hide  yourself 
in  this  great  tree,  and  shoot  at  all"  that  pass  you.  When  you 
have  succeeded  in  killing  one  come  and  tell  me." 

So  saying  he  gave  me  a  supply  of  food,  and  returned  to  the 
town,  and  I  perched  myself  high  up  in  the  tree  and  kept  watch. 
That  night  I  saw  nothing,  but  just  after  sunrise  the  next 


SEVENTH   AND   LAST   VOYAGE  133 

morning  a  large  herd  of  elephants  came  crashing  and  tramphng 
by.  I  lost  no  time  in  letting  fly  several  arrows,  and  at  last  one 
of  the  great  animals  fell  to  the  ground  dead,  and  the  others  re- 
treated, leaving  me  free  to  come  down  from  my  hiding-place 
and  run  back  to  tell  my  master  of  my  success,  for  which  I  was 
praised  and  regaled  with  good  things.  Then  we  went  back  to 
the  forest  together  and  dug  a  mighty  trench  in  which  we  buried 
the  elephant  I  had  killed,  in  order  that  when  it  became  a  skele- 
ton my  master  might  return  and  secure  its  tusks. 

For  two  months  I  hunted  thus,  and  no  day  passed  without 
my  securing  an  elephant.  Of  course  I  did  not  always  station 
myself  in  the  same  tree,  but  sometimes  in  one  place,  sometimes 
in  another.  One  morning  as  I  watched  the  coming  of  the  ele- 
phants I  was  surprised  to  see  that,  instead  of  passing  the  tree  I 
was  in,  as  they  usually  did,  they  paused,  and  completely  sur- 
rounded it,  trumpeting  horribly,  and  shaking  the  very  ground 
with  their  heavy  tread,  and  when  I  saw  that  their  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  me  I  was  terrified,  and  my  arrows  dropped  from  my 
trembling  hand.  I  had  indeed  good  reason  for  my  terror  when, 
an  instant  later,  the  largest  of  the  animals  wound  his  trunk 
round  the  stem  of  my  tree,  and  with  one  mighty  eflfort  tore  it 
up  by  the  roots,  bringing  me  to  the  ground  entangled  in  its 
branches.  I  thought  now  that  my  last  hour  was  surely  come, 
but  the  huge  creature,  picking  me  up  gently  enough,  set  me 
upon  its  back,  where  I  clung  more  dead  than  alive,  and  followed 
by  the  whole  herd  turned  and  crashed  ofif  into  the  dense  forest. 
It  seemed  to  me  a  long  time  before  I  was  once  more  set  upon  my 
feet  by  the  elephant,  and  I  stood  as  if  in  a  dream  watching  the 
herd,  which  turned  and  trampled  of?  in  another  direction,  and 
were  soon  hidden  in  the  dense  underwood.  Then,  recovering 
myself,  I  looked  about  me,  and  found  that  I  was  standing  upon 
the  side  of  a  great  hill,  strewn  as  far  as  I  could  see  on  either 
hand  with  bones  and  tusks  of  elephants.  "  This  then  must  be 
the  elephants'  burying-place,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  and  they  must 
have  brought  me  here  that  I  might  cease  to  persecute  them,  see- 
ing that  I  want  nothing  but  their  tusks,  and  here  lie  more  than 
I  could  carry  away  in  a  lifetime." 

Whereupon  I  turned  and  made  for  the  city  as  fast  as  I  could 
go,  not  seeing  a  single  elephant  by  the  way,  which  convinced 
me  that  they  had  retired  deeper  into  the  forest  to  leave  the  way 
open  to  the  Ivory  Hill,  and  I  did  not  know  how  sufficiently  to 


134 


ARABIAN    NIGHTS 


admire  their  sagacity.  After  a  day  and  a  night  I  reached  my 
master's  house,  and  was  received  by  him  with  joyful  surprise. 

"  Ah !  poor  Sindbad,"  he  cried,  "  I  was  wondering  what 
could  have  become  of  you.  When  I  went  to  the  forest  I  found 
the  tree  newly  uprooted,  and  the  arrows  lying  beside  it,  and  I 
feared  I  should  never  see  you  again.  Pray  tell  me  how  you 
escaped  death." 

I  soon  satisfied  his  curiosity,  and  the  next  day  we  went  to- 
gether to  the  Ivory  Hill,  and  he  was  overjoyed  to  find  that  I 
had  told  him  nothing  but  the  truth.  When  we  had  loaded  our 
elephant  with  as  many  tusks  as  it  could  carry  and  were  on  our 
way  back  to  the  city,  he  said : — 

"  My  brother — since  I  can  no  longer  treat  as  a  slave  one  who 
has  enriched  me  thus — take  your  liberty,  and  may  Heaven  pros- 
per you.  I  will  no  longer  conceal  from  you  that  these  wild 
elephants  have  killed  numbers  of  our  slaves  every  year.  No 
matter  what  good  advice  we  gave  them,  they  were  caught 
sooner  or  later.  You  alone  have  escaped  the  wiles  of  these  ani- 
mals, therefore  you  must  be  under  the  special  protection  of 
Heaven.  Now  through  you  the  whole  town  will  be  enriched 
without  further  loss  of  life,  therefore  you  shall  not  only  receive 
your  liberty,  but  I  will  also  bestow  a  fortune  upon  you." 

To  which  I  replied,  "  Master,  I  thank  you,  and  wish  you  all 
prosperity.  For  myself  I  only  ask  liberty  to  return  to  my  own 
country." 

"  It  is  well,"  he  answered,  "  the  monsoon  will  soon  bring  the 
ivory  ships  hither,  then  I  will  send  you  on  your  way  with 
somewhat  to  pay  your  passage." 

So  I  stayed  with  him  till  the  time  of  the  monsoon,  and  every 
day  we  added  to  our  store  of  ivory  till  all  his  warehouses  were 
overflowing  with  it.  By  this  time  the  other  merchants  knew 
the  secret,  but  there  was  enough  and  to  spare  for  all.  When 
the  ships  at  last  arrived  my  master  himself  chose  the  one  in 
which  I  was  to  sail,  and  put  on  board  for  me  a  great  store  of 
choice  provisions,  also  ivory  in  abundance,  and  all  the  costliest 
curiosities  of  the  country,  for  which  I  could  not  thank  him 
enough,  and  so  we  parted.  I  left  the  ship  at  the  first  port  we 
came  to,  not  feeling  at  ease  upon  the  sea  after  all  that  had  hap- 
pened to  me  by  reason  of  it,  and  having  disposed  of  my  ivory 
for  much  gold,  and  bought  many  rare  and  costly  presents,  I 
loaded  my  pack  animals,  and  joined  a  caravan  of  merchants. 


SEVENTH    AND    LAST   VOYAGE  135 

Our  journey  was  long  and  tedious,  but  I  bore  it  patiently,  re- 
flecting that  at  least  I  had  not  to  fear  tempests,  nor  pirates,  nor 
serpents,  nor  any  of  the  other  perils  from  which  I  had  suffered 
before,  and  at  length  we  reached  Bagdad.  My  first  care  was 
to  present  myself  before  the  Caliph,  and  give  him  an  account  of 
my  embassy.  He  assured  me  that  my  long  absence  had  dis- 
quieted him  much,  but  he  had  nevertheless  hoped  for  the  best. 
As  to  my  adventure  among  the  elephants  he  heard  it  with 
amazement,  declaring  that  he  could  not  have  believed  it  had  not 
my  truthfulness  been  well-known  to  him. 

By  his  orders  this  story  and  the  others  I  had  told  him  were 
written  by  his  scribes  in  letters  of  gold,  and  laid  up  among  his 
treasures.  I  took  my  leave  of  him,  well  satisfied  with  the  hon- 
ors and  rewards  he  bestowed  upon  me ;  and  since  that  time  I 
have  rested  from  my  labors,  and  given  myself  up  wholly  to  my 
family  and  my  friends. 

Thus  Sindbad  ended  the  story  of  his  seventh  and  last  voyage, 
and  turning  to  Hindbad  he  added : — 

"  Well,  my  friend,  and  what  do  you  think  now  ?  Have  you 
ever  heard  of  anyone  who  has  suffered  more,  or  had  more  nar- 
row escapes  than  I  have?  Is  it  not  just  that  I  should  now 
enjoy  a  life  of  ease  and  tranquillity  ?  " 

Hindbad  drew  near,  and  kissing  his  hand  respectfully,  re- 
plied, "  Sir,  you  have  indeed  known  fearful  perils ;  my  troubles 
have  been  nothing  compared  to  yours.  Moreover,  the  generous 
use  you  make  of  your  wealth  proves  that  you  deserve  it.  May 
you  live  long  and  happily  in  the  enjoyment  of  it." 

Sindbad  then  gave  him  a  hundred  sequins,  and  hencefor- 
ward counted  him  among  his  friends;  also  he  caused  him  to 
give  up  his  profession  as  a  porter,  and  to  eat  daily  at  his  table 
that  he  might  all  his  life  remember  Sindbad  the  Sailor. 


ALADDIN'S  WONDERFUL  LAMP 

THERE  once  lived  a  poor  tailor,  who  had  a  son  called 
Aladdin,  a  careless,  idle  boy,  who  would  do  nothing  but 
play  all  day  long  in  the  streets  with  little  idle  boys  like 
himself.  This  so  grieved  the  father  that  he  died ;  yet,  in  spite 
of  his  mother's  tears  and  prayers,  Aladdin  did  not  mend  his 
ways.  One  day,  when  he  was  playing  in  the  streets  as  usual,  a 
stranger  asked  him  his  age,  and  if  he  were  not  the  son  of  Mus- 
tapha  the  tailor. 

"  I  am,  sir,"  replied  Aladdin ;  "  but  he  died  a  long  while 
ago." 

On  this  the  stranger,  who  was  a  famous  African  magician, 
fell  on  his  neck  and  kissed  him,  saying:  "  I  am  your  uncle,  and 
knew  you  from  your  likeness  to  my  brother.  Go  to  your 
mother  and  tell  her  I  am  coming." 

Aladdin  ran  home,  and  told  his  mother  of  his  newly-found 
uncle. 

"  Indeed,  child,"  she  said,  "  your  father  had  a  brother,  but  I 
always  thought  he  was  dead." 

However,  she  prepared  supper,  and  bade  Aladdin  seek  his 
uncle,  who  came  laden  with  wine  and  fruit.  He  presently 
fell  down  and  kissed  the  place  where  Mustapha  used  to  sit, 
bidding  Aladdin's  mother  not  to  be  surprised  at  not  having  seen 
him  before,  as  he  had  been  forty  years  out  of  the  country.  He 
then  turned  to  Aladdin  and  asked  him  his  trade,  at  which  the 
boy  hung  his  head,  while  his  mother  burst  into  tears.  On  learn- 
ing that  Aladdin  was  idle  and  would  learn  no  trade,  he  offered 
to  take  a  shop  for  him  and  stock  it  with  merchandise.  Next 
day  he  bought  Aladdin  a  fine  suit  of  clothes,  and  took  him  all 
over  the  city,  showing  him  the  sights,  and  brought  him  home  at 
nightfall  to  his  mother,  who  was  overjoyed  to  see  her  son  so 
fine. 

Next  day  the  magician  led  Aladdin  into  some  beautiful  gar- 
dens a  long  way  outside  the  city  gates.  They  sat  down  by  a 
136 


ALADDIN'S   WONDERFUL   LAMP  137 

fountain,  and  the  magician  pulled  a  cake  from  his  girdle,  which 
he  divided  between  them.  They  then  journeyed  onwards  till 
they  almost  reached  the  mountains.  Aladdin  was  so  tired  that 
he  begged  to  go  back,  but  the  magician  beguiled  him  with  pleas- 
ant stories,  and  led  him  on  in  spite  of  himself. 

At  last  they  came  to  two  mountains  divided  by  a  narrow  val- 
ley. 

"  We  will  go  no  farther,"  said  the  false  uncle.  "  I  will  show 
you  something  wonderful ;  only  do  you  gather  up  sticks  while 
I  kindle  a  fire." 

When  it  was  lit  the  magician  threw  on  it  a  powder  he  had 
about  him,  at  the  same  time  saying  some  magical  words.  The 
earth  trembled  a  little  and  opened  in  front  of  them,  disclosing 
a  square  flat  stone  with  a  brass  ring  in  the  middle  to  raise  it  by. 
Aladdin  tried  to  run  away,  but  the  magician  caught  him  and 
gave  him  a  blow  that  knocked  him  down. 

"  What  have  I  done,  uncle  ?  "  he  said  piteously ;  whereupon 
the  magician  said  more  kindly :  "  Fear  nothing,  but  obey  me. 
Beneath  this  stone  lies  a  treasure  which  is  to  be  yours,  and  no 
one  else  may  touch  it,  so  you  must  do  exactly  as  I  tell  you." 

At  the  word  treasure,  Aladdin  forgot  his  fears,  and  grasped 
the  ring  as  he  was  told,  saying  the  names  of  his  father  and 
grandfather.  The  stone  came  up  quite  easily  and  some  steps 
appeared. 

"  Go  down,"  said  the  magician ;  "  at  the  foot  of  those  steps 
you  will  find  an  open  door  leading  into  three  large  halls.  Tuck 
up  your  gown  and  go  through  them  without  touching  anything, 
or  you  will  die  instantly.  These  halls  lead  into  a  garden  of  fine 
fruit-trees.  Walk  on  till  you  come  to  a  niche  in  a  terrace  where 
stands  a  lighted  lamp.  Pour  out  the  oil  it  contains  and  bring 
it  to  me." 

He  drew  a  ring  from  his  finger  and  gave  it  to  Aladdin,  bid- 
ding him  prosper. 

Aladdin  found  everything  as  the  magician  had  said,  gath- 
ered some  fruit  ofif  the  trees,  and,  having  got  the  lamp,  arrived 
at  the  mouth  of  the  cave.  The  magician  cried  out  in  a  great 
hurry : — 

"  Make  haste  and  give  me  the  lamp."  This  Aladdin  refused 
to  do  until  he  was  out  of  the  cave.  The  magician  flew  into  a 
terrible  passion,  and  throwing  some  more  powder  on  the  fire, 
he  said  something,  and  the  stone  rolled  back  into  its  place. 


138  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

The  magician  left  Persia  forever,  which  plainly  showed  that 
he  was  no  uncle  of  Aladdin's,  but  a  cunning  magician  who  had 
read  in  his  magic  books  of  a  wonderful  lamp,  which  would 
make  him  the  most  powerful  man  in  the  world.  Though  he 
alone  knew  where  to  find  it,  he  could  only  receive  it  from  the 
hand  of  another.  He  had  picked  out  the  foolish  Aladdin  for 
this  purpose,  intending  to  get  the  lamp  and  kill  him  afterwards. 

For  two  days  Aladdin  remained  in  the  dark,  crying  and  la- 
menting. At  last  he  clasped  his  hands  in  prayer,  and  in  so 
doing  rubbed  the  ring,  which  the  magician  had  forgotten  to 
take  from  him.  Immediately  an  enormous  and  frightful  genie 
rose  out  of  the  earth,  saying : — 

"  What  wouldst  thou  with  me  ?  I  am  the  Slave  of  the  Ring, 
and  will  obey  thee  in  all  things." 

Aladdin  fearlessly  replied :  "  Deliver  me  from  this  place !  " 
whereupon  the  earth  opened,  and  he  found  himself  outside.  As 
soon  as  his  eyes  could  bear  the  light  he  went  home,  but  fainted 
on  the  threshold.  When  he  came  to  himself  he  told  his  mother 
what  had  passed,  and  showed  her  the  lamp  and  the  fruits  he  had 
gathered  in  the  garden,  which  were  in  reality  precious  stones. 
He  then  asked  for  some  food. 

"  Alas !  child,"  she  said,  ''  I  have  nothing  in  the  house,  but  I 
have  spun  a  little  cotton  and  will  go  and  sell  it." 

Aladdin  bade  her  keep  her  cotton,  for  he  would  sell  the 
lamp  instead.  As  it  was  very  dirty  she  began  to  rub  it,  that 
it  might  fetch  a  higher  price.  Instantly  a  hideous  genie  ap- 
peared, and  asked  what  she  would  have.  She  fainted  away, 
but  Aladdin,  snatching  the  lamp,  said  boldly: — 

"  Fetch  me  something  to  eat !  " 

The  genie  returned  with  a  silver  bowl,  twelve  silver  plates 
containing  rich  meats,  two  silver  cups,  and  two  bottles  of  wine. 
Aladdin's  mother,  when  she  came  to  herself,  said: — 

"Whence  comes  this  splendid  feast?" 

"  Ask  not,  but  eat,"  replied  Aladdin. 

So  they  sat  at  breakfast  till  it  was  dinner-time,  and  Aladdin 
told  his  mother  about  the  lamp.  She  begged  him  to  sell  it, 
and  have  nothing  to  do  with  devils. 

"  No,"  said  Aladdin,  "  since  chance  has  made  us  aware  of 
its  virtues,  we  will  use  it  and  the  ring  likewise,  which  I  shall 
always  wear  on  my  finger."  When  they  had  eaten  all  the 
genie  had  brought,  Aladdin  sold  one  of  the  silver  plates,  and 


ALADDIN'S   WONDERFUL   LAMP 


[39 


SO  on  till  none  was  left.  He  then  had  recourse  to  the  genie, 
who  gave  him  another  set  of  plates,  and  thus  they  lived  for 
many  years. 

One  day  Aladdin  heard  an  order  from  the  Sultan  proclaimed 
that  everyone  was  to  stay  at  home  and  close  his  shutters  while 
the  princess,  his  daughter,  went  to  and  from  the  bath.  Alad- 
din was  seized  by  a  desire  to  see  her  face,  which  was  very 
difficult,  as  she  always  went  veiled.  He  hid  himself  behind 
the  door  of  the  bath,  and  peeped  through  a  chink.  The  princess 
lifted  her  veil  as  she  went  in,  and  looked  so  beautiful  that 
Aladdin  fell  in  love  with  her  at  first  sight.  He  went  home 
so  changed  that  his  mother  was  frightened.  He  told  her  he 
loved  the  princess  so  deeply  that  he  could  not  live  without  her, 
and  meant  to  ask  her  in  marriage  of  her  father.  His  mother, 
on  hearing  this,  burst  out  laughing,  but  Aladdin  at  last  pre- 
vailed upon  her  to  go  before  the  Sultan  and  carry  his  re- 
quest. She  fetched  a  napkin  and  laid  in  it  the  magic  fruits 
from  the  enchanted  garden,  which  sparkled  and  shone  like  the 
most  beautiful  jewels.  She  took  these  with  her  to  please  the 
Sultan,  and  set  out,  trusting  in  the  lamp.  The  grand-vizir  and 
the  lords  of  council  had  just  gone  in  as  she  entered  the  hall  and 
placed  herself  in  front  of  the  Sultan.  He,  however,  took  no 
notice  of  her.  She  went  every  day  for  a  week,  and  stood  in  the 
same  place. 

When  the  council  broke  up  on  the  sixth  day  the  Sultan  said 
to  his  vizir :  "  I  see  a  certain  woman  in  the  audience-chamber 
every  day  carrying  something  in  a  napkin.  Call  her  next  time, 
that  I  may  find  out  what  she  wants." 

Next  day,  at  a  sign  from  the  vizir,  she  went  up  to  the  foot 
of  the  throne,  and  remained  kneeling  till  the  Sultan  said  to 
her :  "  Rise,  good  woman,  and  tell  me  what  you  want." 

She  hesitated,  so  the  Sultan  sent  away  all  but  the  vizir,  and 
bade  her  speak  freely,  promising  to  forgive  her  beforehand  for 
anything  she  might  say.  She  then  told  him  of  her  son's  violent 
love  for  the  princess. 

"  I  prayed  him  to  forget  her,"  she  said,  "  but  in  vain ;  he 
threatened  to  do  some  desperate  deed  if  I  refused  to  go  and  ask 
your  Majesty  for  the  hand  of  the  princess.  Now  I  pray  you  to 
forgive  not  me  alone,  but  my  son  Aladdin." 

The  Sultan  asked  her  kindly  what  she  had  in  the  napkin, 
whereupon  she  unfolded  the  jewels  and  presented  them. 


140 


ARABIAN    NIGHTS 


He  was  thunderstruck,  and  turning  to  the  vizir  said :  "  What 
sayest  thou?  Ought  I  not  to  bestow  the  princess  on  one  who 
values  her  at  such  a  price  ?  " 

The  vizir,  who  wanted  her  for  his  own  son,  begged  the  Sul- 
tan to  withhold  her  for  three  months,  in  the  course  of  which  he 
hoped  his  son  would  contrive  to  make  him  a  richer  present. 
The  Sultan  granted  this,  and  told  Aladdin's  mother  that, 
though  he  consented  to  the  marriage,  she  must  not  appear  be- 
fore him  again  for  three  months. 

Aladdin  waited  patiently  for  nearly  three  months,  but  after 
two  had  elapsed  his  mother,  going  into  the  city  to  buy  oil,  found 
everyone  rejoicing,  and  asked  what  was  going  on. 

"  Do  you  not  know,"  was  the  answer,  "  that  the  son  of  the 
grand-vizir  is  to  marry  the  Sultan's  daughter  to-night  ?  " 

Breathless,  she  ran  and  told  Aladdin,  who  was  overwhelmed 
at  first,  but  presently  bethought  him  of  the  lamp.  He  rubbed 
it,  and  the  genie  appeared,  saying :    "  What  is  thy  will  ?  " 

Aladdin  replied :  "  The  Sultan,  as  thou  knowest,  has  broken 
his  promise  to  me,  and  the  vizir's  son  is  to  have  the  princess. 
My  command  is  that  to-night  you  bring  hither  the  bride  and 
bridegroom." 

"  Master,  I  obey,"  said  the  genie. 

Aladdin  then  went  to  his  chamber,  where,  sure  enough  at 
midnight  the  genie  transported  the  bed  containing  the  vizir's 
son  and  the  princess. 

"  Take  this  new-married  man,"  he  said,  "  and  put  him  out- 
side in  the  cold,  and  return  at  daybreak." 

Whereupon  the  genie  took  the  vizir's  son  out  of  bed,  leaving 
Aladdin  with  the  princess. 

"Fear  nothing,"  Aladdin  said  to  her;  "you  are  my  wife, 
promised  to  me  by  your  unjust  father,  and  no  harm  shall  come 
to  you." 

The  princess  was  too  frightened  to  speak,  and  passed  the 
most  miserable  night  of  her  life,  while  Aladdin  lay  down  beside 
her  and  slept  soundly-  At  the  appointed  hour  the  genie  fetched 
in  the  shivering  bridegroom,  laid  him  in  his  place,  and  trans- 
ported the  bed  back  to  the  palace. 

Presently  the  Sultan  came  to  wish  his  daughter  good-morn- 
ing. The  unhappy  vizir's  son  jumped  up  and  hid  himself, 
while  the  princess  would  not  say  a  word,  and  was  very  sor- 
rowful. 


ALADDIN'S    WONDERFUL   LAMP  141 

The  Sultan  sent  her  mother  to  her,  who  said :  "  How  comes 
it,  child,  that  you  will  pot  speak  to  your  father?  What  has 
happened  ?  " 

The  princess  sighed  deeply,  and  at  last  told  her  mother  how, 
during  the  night,  the  bed  had  been  carried  into  some  strange 
house,  and  what  had  passed  there.  Her  mother  did  not  be- 
lieve her  in  the  least,  but  bade  her  rise  and  consider  it  an  idle 
dream. 

The  following  night  exactly  the  same  thing  happened,  and 
next  morning,  on  the  princess's  refusing  to  speak,  the  Sultan 
threatened  to  cut  off  her  head.  She  then  confessed  all,  bid- 
ding him  ask  the  vizir's  son  if  it  were  not  so.  The  Sultan  told 
the  vizir  to  ask  his  son,  who  owned  the  truth,  adding  that, 
dearly  as  he  loved  the  princess,  he  had  rather  die  than  go 
through  another  such  fearful  night,  and  wished  to  be  sepa- 
rated from  her.  His  wish  was  granted,  and  there  was  an  end 
of  feasting  and  rejoicing. 

When  the  three  months  were  over,  Aladdin  sent  his  mother 
to  remind  the  Sultan  of  his  promise.  She  stood  in  the  same 
place  as  before,  and  the  Sultan,  who  had  forgotten  Aladdin, 
at  once  remembered  him,  and  sent  for  her.  On  seeing  her 
poverty  the  Sultan  felt  less  inclined  than  ever  to  keep  his  word, 
and  asked  the  vizir's  advice,  who  counselled  him  to  set  so  high 
a  value  on  the  princess  that  no  man  living  could  come  up  to  it. 

The  Sultan  then  turned  to  Aladdin's  mother,  saying:  "  Good 
woman,  a  Sultan  must  remember  his  promises,  and  I  will  re- 
member mine,  but  your  son  must  first  send  me  forty  basins  of 
gold  brimful  of  jewels,  carried  by  forty  black  slaves,  led  by 
as  many  white  ones,  splendidly  dressed.  Tell  him  that  I  await 
his  answer."  The  mother  of  Aladdin  bowed  low  and  went 
home,  thinking  all  was  lost. 

She  gave  Aladdin  the  message,  adding :  "  He  may  wait  long 
enough  for  your  answer !  " 

"  Not  so  long,  mother,  as  you  think,"  her  son  replied.  "  I 
would  do  a  great  deal  more  than  that  for  the  princess."  He 
summoned  the  genie,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  eighty  slaves 
arrived,  and  filled  up  the  small  house  and  garden. 

Aladdin  made  them  set  out  to  the  palace,  tw^o  and  two,  fol- 
lowed by  his  mother.  They  were  so  richly  dressed,  with  such 
splendid  jewels  in  their  girdles,  that  everyone  crowded  to  see 
them  and  the  basins  of  gold  they  carried  on  their  heads. 


142 


ARABIAN    NIGHTS 


They  entered  the  palace,  and,  after  kneeHng  before  the  Sul- 
tan, stood  in  a  half-circle  round  the  throne  with  their  arms 
crossed,  while  Aladdin's  mother  presented  them  to  the  Sultan. 

He  hesitated  no  longer,  but  said:  "Good  woman,  return 
and  tell  your  son  that  I  wait  for  him  with  open  arms." 

She  lost  no  time  in  telling  Aladdin,  bidding  him  make  haste. 
But  Aladdin  first  called  the  genie. 

"  I  want  a  scented  bath,"  he  said,  "  a  richly  embroidered 
habit,  a  horse  surpassing  the  Sultan's,  and  twenty  slaves  to 
attend  me.  Besides  this,  six  slaves,  beautifully  dressed,  to 
wait  on  my  mother;  and  lastly,  ten  thousand  pieces  of  gold 
in  ten  purses." 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  Aladdin  mounted  his  horse  and 
passed  through  the  streets,  the  slaves  strewing  gold  as  they 
went.  Those  who  had  played  with  him  in  his  childhood  knew 
him  not,  he  had  grown  so  handsome. 

When  the  Sultan  saw  him  he  came  down  from  his  throne, 
embraced  him,  and  led  him  into  a  hall  where  a  feast  was  spread, 
intending  to  marry  him  to  the  princess  that  very  day. 

But  Aladdin  refused,  saying,  "  I  must  build  a  palace  fit  for 
her,"  and  took  his  leave. 

Once  home  he  said  to  the  genie : .  "  Build  me  a  palace  of 
the  finest  marble,  set  with  jasper,  agate,  and  other  precious 
stones.  In  the  middle  you  shall  build  me  a  large  hall  with  a 
dome,  its  four  walls  of  massy  gold  and  silver,  each  side  hav- 
ing six  windows,  whose  lattices,  all  except  one,  which  is  to 
be  left  unfinished,  must  be  set  with  diamonds  and  rubies.  There 
must  be  stables  and  horses  and  grooms  and  slaves ;  go  and 
see  about  it !  " 

The  palace  was  finished  by  next  day,  and  the  genie  carried 
him  there  and  showed  him  all  his  orders  faithfully  carried  out, 
even  to  the  laying  of  a  velvet  carpet  from  Aladdin's  palace  to 
the  Sultan's.  Aladdin's  mother  then  dressed  herself  carefully, 
and  walked  to  the  palace  with  her  slaves,  while  he  followed 
her  on  horseback.  The  Sultan  sent  musicians  with  trumpets 
and  cymbals  to  meet  them,  so  that  the  air  resounded  with  music 
and  cheers.  She  was  taken  to  the  princess,  who  saluted  her 
and  treated  her  with  great  honor.  At  night  the  princess  said 
good-by  to  her  father,  and  set  out  on  the  carpet  for  Aladdin's 
palace,  with  his  mother  at  her  side,  and  followed  by  the  hun- 


ALADDIN'S   WONDERFUL   LAMP  143 

dred  slaves.  She  was  charmed  at  the  sight  of  Aladdin,  who 
ran  to  receive  her. 

*'  Princess,"  he  said,  "  blame  your  beauty  for  my  boldness 
if  I  have  displeased  you." 

She  told  him  that,  having  seen  him,  she  willingly  obeyed 
her  father  in  this  matter.  After  the  wedding  had  taken  place 
Aladdin  led  her  into  the  hall,  where  a  feast  was  spread,  and 
she  supped  with  him,  after  which  they  danced  till  midnight. 

Next  day  Aladdin  invited  the  Sultan  to  see  the  palace.  On 
entering  the  hall  with  the  four-and-twenty  windows,  with  their 
rubies,  diamonds,  and  emeralds,  he  cried : — 

"  It  is  a  world's  wonder !  There  is  only  one  thing  that  sur- 
prises me.  Was  it  by  accident  that  one  window  was  left  un- 
finished ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  by  design,"  returned  Aladdin.  "  I  wished  your 
Majesty  to  have  the  glory  of  finishing  this  palace." 

The  Sultan  was  pleased,  and  sent  for  the  best  jewellers  in 
the  city.  He  showed  them  the  unfinished  window,  and  bade 
them  fit  it  up  like  the  others. 

"  Sir,"  replied  their  spokesman,  "  we  cannot  find  jewels 
enough," 

The  Sultan  had  his  own  fetched,  which  they  soon  used,  but 
to  no  purpose,  for  in  a  month's  time  the  work  was  not  half 
done.  Aladdin,  knowing  that  their  task  was  vain,  bade  them 
undo  their  work  and  carry  the  jewels  back,  and  the  genie  fin- 
ished the  window  at  his  command.  The  Sultan  was  surprised 
to  receive  his  jewels  again  and  visited  Aladdin,  who  showed 
him  the  window  finished.  The  Sultan  embraced  him,  the  en- 
vious vizir  meanwhile  hinting  that  it  was  the  work  of  en- 
chantment. 

Aladdin  had  won  the  hearts  of  the  people  by  his  gentle 
bearing.  He  was  made  captain  of  the  Sultan's  armies,  and 
won  several  battles  for  him,  but  remained  modest  and  courteous 
as  before,  and  lived  thus  in  peace  and  content  for  several  years. 

But  far  away  in  Africa  the  magician  remembered  Aladdin, 
and  by  his  magic  arts  discovered  that  Aladdin,  instead  of  per- 
ishing miserably  in  the  cave,  had  escaped,  and  had  married  a 
princess,  with  whom  he  was  living  in  great  honor  and  wealth. 
He  knew  that  the  poor  tailor's  son  could  only  have  accom- 
plished this  by  means  of  the  lamp,  and  travelled  night  and  day 
till  he  reached  the  capital  of  China,  bent  on  Aladdin's  ruin. 


144  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

As  he  passed  through  the  town  he  heard  people  talking  every- 
where about  a  marvellous  palace. 

"  Forgive  my  ignorance,"  he  asked,  "  what  is  this  palace 
you  speak  of  ?  " 

"  Have  you  not  heard  of  Prince  Aladdin's  palace,"  was  the 
reply,  "the  greatest  wonder  of  the  world?  I  will  direct  you 
if  you  have  a  mind  to  see  it." 

The  magician  thanked  him  who  spoke,  and  having  seen  the 
palace  knew  that  it  had  been  raised  by  the  genie  of  the  lamp, 
and  became  half  mad  with  rage.  He  determined  to  get  hold 
of  the  lamp,  and  again  plunge  Aladdin  into  the  deepest  poverty. 

Unluckily,  Aladdin  had  gone  a-hunting  for  eight  days,  which 
gave  the  magician  plenty  of  time.  He  bought  a  dozen  copper 
lamps,  put  them  into  a  basket,  and  went  to  the  palace,  crying : 
"  New  lamps  for  old!  "  followed  by  a  jeering  crowd. 

The  princess,  sitting  in  the  hall  of  four-and-twenty  windows, 
sent  a  slave  to  find  out  what  the  noise  was  about,  who  came 
back  laughing,  so  that  the  princess  scolded  her. 

"  Madam,"  replied  the  slave,  "  who  can  help  laughing  to  see 
an  old  fool  offering  to  exchange  fine  new  lamps  for  old  ones  ?  " 

Another  slave,  hearing  this,  said :  "  There  is  an  old  one  on 
the  cornice  there  which  he  can  have," 

Now  this  was  the  magic  lamp,  which  Aladdin  had  left  there, 
as  he  could  not  take  it  out  hunting  with  him.  The  princess, 
not  knowing  its  value,  laughingly  bade  the  slave  take  it  and 
make  the  exchange. 

She  went  and  said  to  the  magician :  "  Give  me  a  new  lamp 
for  this." 

He  snatched  it  and  bade  the  slave  take  her  choice,  amid  the 
jeers  of  the  crowd.  Little  he  cared,  but  left  off  crying  his 
lamps,  and  went  out  of  the  city  gates  to  a  lonely  place,  where 
he  remained  till  nightfall,  when  he  pulled  out  the  lamp  and 
rubbed  it.  The  genie  appeared,  and  at  the  magician's  com- 
mand carried  him,  together  with  the  palace  and  the  princess 
in  it,  to  a  lonely  place  in  Africa. 

Next  morning  the  Sultan  looked  out  of  the  window  towards 
Aladdin's  palace  and  rubbed  his  eyes,  for  it  was  gone.  He 
sent  for  the  vizir,  and  asked  what  had  become  of  the  palace. 
The  vizir  looked  out  too,  and  was  lost  in  astonishment.  He 
again  put  it  down  to  enchantment,  and  this  time  the  Sultan 
believed  him,  and  sent  thirty  men  on  horseback  to  fetch  Alad- 


ALADDIN'S   WONDERFUL   LAMP  145 

din  in  chains.  They  met  him  riding  home,  bound  him,  and 
forced  him  to  go  with  them  on  foot.  The  people,  however, 
who  loved  him,  followed,  armed,  to  see  that  he  came  to  no 
harm.  He  was  carried  before  the  Sultan,  who  ordered  the 
executioner  to  cut  off  his  head.  The  executioner  made  Alad- 
din kneel  down,  bandaged  his  eyes,  and  raised  his  scimitar  to 
strike.  At  that  instant  the  vizir,  who  saw  that  the  crowd  had 
forced  their  way  into  the  courtyard  and  were  scaling  the  walls 
to  rescue  Aladdin,  called  to  the  executioner  to  stay  his  hand. 
The  people,  indeed,  looked  so  threatening  that  the  Sultan  gave 
way  and  ordered  Aladdin  to  be  unbound,  and  pardoned  him 
in  the  sight  of  the  crowd. 

Aladdin  now  begged  to  know  what  he  had  done. 

"  False  wretch  !  "  said  the  Sultan,  "  come  hither,"  and  showed 
him  from  the  window  the  place  where  his  palace  had  stood. 

Aladdin  was  so  amazed  that  he  could  not  say  a  word. 

"Where  is  my  palace  and  my  daughter?"  demanded  the 
Sultan.  "  For  the  first  I  am  not  so  deeply  concerned,  but  my 
daughter  I  must  have,  and  you  must  find  her  or  lose  your 
head." 

Aladdin  begged  for  forty  days  in  which  to  find  her,  prom- 
ising if  he  failed,  to  return  and  suffer  death  at  the  Sultan's 
pleasure.  His  prayer  was  granted,  and  he  went  forth  sadly 
from  the  Sultan's  presence.  For  three  days  he  wandered  about 
like  a  madman,  asking  everyone  what  had  become  of  his  palace, 
but  they  only  laughed  and  pitied  him.  He  came  to  the  banks 
of  a  river,  and  knelt  down  to  say  his  prayers  before  throwing 
himself  in.    In  so  doing  he  rubbed  the  magic  ring  he  still  wore. 

The  genie  he  had  seen  in  the  cave  appeared,  and  asked  his 
will. 

"  Save  my  life,  genie,"  said  Aladdin,  "  and  bring  my  palace 
back," 

"  That  is  not  in  my  power,"  said  the  genie ;  "  I  am  only  the 
Slave  of  the  Ring;   you  must  ask  the  Slave  of  the  Lamp." 

"  Even  so,"  said  Aladdin,  "  but  thou  canst  take  me  to  the 
palace,  and  set  me  down  under  my  dear  wife's  window."  He 
at  once  found  himself  in  Africa,  under  the  window^  of  the 
princess,  and  fell  asleep  out  of  sheer  weariness. 

He  w^as  awakened  by  the  singing  of  the  birds,  and  his  heart 
was  lighter.  He  saw  plainly  that  all  his  misfortunes  were 
Vol.  IVa. — lo 


146  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

owing  to  the  loss  of  the  lamp,  and  vainly  wondered  who  had 
robbed  him  of  it. 

That  morning  the  princess  rose  earlier  than  she  had  done 
since  she  had  been  carried  into  Africa  by  the  magician,  whose 
company  she  was  forced  to  endure  once  a  day.  She,  how- 
ever, treated  him  so  harshly  that  he  dared  not  live  there  alto- 
gether. As  she  was  dressing,  one  of  her  women  looked  out 
and  saw  Aladdin.  The  princess  ran  and  opened  the  window, 
and  at  the  noise  she  made  Aladdin  looked  up.  She  called  to 
him  to  come  to  her,  and  great  was  the  joy  of  these  lovers  at 
seeing  each  other  again. 

After  he  had  kissed  her  Aladdin  said :  "  I  beg  of  you, 
Princess,  in  God's  name,  before  we  speak  of  anything  else, 
for  your  own  sake  and  mine,  tell  me  what  has  become  of  an 
old  lamp  I  left  on  the  cornice  in  the  hall  of  four-and-twenty 
windows,  when  I  went  a-hunting." 

"  Alas !  "  she  said,  "  I  am  the  innocent  cause  of  our  sor- 
rows," and  told  him  of  the  exchange  of  the  lamp. 

"  Now  I  know,"  cried  Aladdin,  "  that  we  have  to  thank  the 
African  magician  for  this !    Where  is  the  lamp  ?  " 

"  He  carries  it  about  with  him,"  said  the  princess,  "  I  know, 
for  he  pulled  it  out  of  his  breast  to  show  me.  He  wishes  me 
to  break  my  faith  with  you  and  marry  him,  saying  that  you 
were  beheaded  by  my  father's  command.  He  is  forever  speak- 
ing ill  of  you,  but  I  only  reply  by  my  tears.  If  I  persist,  I 
doubt  not  that  he  will  use  violence." 

Aladdi.^.  comforted  her,  and  left  her  for  awhile.  He  changed 
clothes  with  the  first  person  he  met  in  the  town,  and  having 
bought  a  certain  powder  returned  to  the  princess,  who  let  him 
in  by  a  little  side  door. 

"  Put  on  your  most  beautiful  dress,"  he  said  to  her,  "  and 
receive  the  magician  with  smiles,  leading  him  to  believe  that 
you  have  forgotten  me.  Invite  him  to  sup  with  you,  and  say 
you  wish  to  taste  the  wine  of  his  country.  He  will  go  for 
some,  and  while  he  is  gone  I  will  tell  you  what  to  do." 

She  listened  carefully  to  Aladdin,  and  when  he  left  her  ar- 
rayed herself  gayly  for  the  first  time  since  she  left  China.  She 
put  on  a  girdle  and  head-dress  of  diamonds,  and  seeing  in  a 
glass  that  she  looked  more  beautiful  than  ever,  received  the 
magician,  saying  to  his  great  amazement :  "  I  have  made  up 
my  mind  that  Aladdin  is  dead,  and  that  all  my  tears  will  not 


ALADDIN'S   WONDERFUL   LAMP  147 

bring  him  back  to  me,  so  I  am  resolved  to  mourn  no  more, 
and  have  therefore  invited  you  to  sup  with  me ;  but  I  am  tired 
of  the  wines  of  China,  and  would  fain  taste  those  of  Africa." 

The  magician  flew  to  his  cellar,  and  the  princess  put  the 
powder  Aladdin  had  given  her  in  her  cup.  When  he  returned 
she  asked  him  to  drink  her  health  in  the  wine  of  Africa,  hand- 
ing him  her  cup  in  exchange  for  his  as  a  sign  she  was  recon- 
ciled to  him. 

Before  drinking  the  magician  made  her  a  speech  in  praise 
of  her  beauty,  but  the  princess  cut  him  short,  saying: — 

"  Let  me  drink  first,  and  you  shall  say  what  you  will  after- 
wards." She  set  her  cup  to  her  lips  and  kept  it  there,  while 
the  magician  drained  his  to  the  dregs  and  fell  back  lifeless. 

The  princess  then  opened  the  door  to  Aladdin,  and  flung 
her  arms  round  his  neck,  but  Aladdin  put  her  away,  bidding 
her  to  leave  him,  as  he  had  more  to  do.  He  then  went  to  the 
dead  magician,  took  the  lamp  out  of  his  vest,  and  bade  the 
genie  carry  the  palace  and  all  in  it  back  to  China.  This  was 
done,  and  the  princess  in  her  chamber  only  felt  two  little 
shocks,  and  little  thought  she  was  at  home  again. 

The  Sultan,  who  was  sitting  in  his  closet,  mourning  for  his 
lost  daughter,  happened  to  look  up,  and  rubbed  his  eyes,  for 
there  stood  the  palace  as  before !  He  hastened  thither,  and 
Aladdin  received  him  in  the  hall  of  the  four-and-twenty  win- 
dows, with  the  princess  at  his  side.  Aladdin  told  him  what 
had  happened,  and  show^ed  him  the  dead  body  of  the  magician, 
that  he  might  believe.  A  ten  days'  feast  was  proclaimed,  and 
it  seemed  as  if  Aladdin  might  now  live  the  rest  of  his  life  in 
peace ;   but  it  was  not  to  be. 

The  African  magician  had  a  younger  brother,  who  was,  if 
possible,  more  wicked  and  more  cunning  than  himself.  He 
travelled  to  China  to  avenge  his  brother's  death,  and  went  to 
visit  a  pious  woman  called  Fatima,  thinking  she  might  be  of 
use  to  him.  He  entered  her  cell  and  clapped  a  dagger  to  her 
breast,  telling  her  to  rise  and  do  his  bidding  on  pain  of  death. 
He  changed  clothes  with  her,  colored  his  face  like  hers,  put 
on  her  veil  and  murdered  her,  so  that  she  might  tell  no  tales. 
Then  he  went  towards  the  palace  of  Aladdin,  and  all  the  peo- 
ple thinking  he  was  the  holy  woman,  gathered  round  him,  kiss- 
ing his  hands  and  begging  his  blessing.     When  he  got  to  the 


148  ARABIAN    NIGHTS 

palace  there  was  such  a  noise  going  on  round  him  that  the 
princess  bade  her  slave  look  out  of  the  window  and  ask  what 
was  the  matter.  The  slave  said  it  was  the  holy  woman,  cur- 
ing people  by  her  touch  of  their  ailments,  whereupon  the 
princess,  who  had  long  desired  to  see  Fatima,  sent  for  her. 
On  coming  to  the  princess  the  magician  offered  up  a  prayer 
for  her  health  and  prosperity.  When  he  had  done  the  princess 
made  him  sit  by  her,  and  begged  him  to  stay  with  her  always. 
The  false  Fatima,  who  wished  for  nothing  better,  consented, 
but  kept  his  veil  down  for  fear  of  discovery.  The  princess 
showed  him  the  hall,  and  asked  him  what  he  thought  of  it. 

"  It  is  truly  beautiful,"  said  the  false  Fatima.  "  In  my  mind 
it  wants  but  one  thing." 

"And  what  is  that?"  said  the  princess. 

"  If  only  a  roc's  egg,"  replied  he,  "  were  hung  up  from  the 
middle  of  this  dome,  it  would  be  the  wonder  of  the  world." 

After  this  the  princess  could  think  of  nothing  but  a  roc's 
egg,  and  when  Aladdin  returned  from  hunting  he  found  her 
in  a  very  ill  humor.  He  begged  to  know  what  was  amiss,  and 
she  told  him  that  all  her  pleasure  in  the  hall  was  spoilt  for  the 
want  of  a  roc's  egg  hanging  from  the  dome. 

"  If  that  is  all,"  replied  Aladdin,  "  you  shall  soon  be  happy." 

He  left  her  and  rubbed  the  lamp,  and  when  the  genie  ap- 
peared commanded  him  to  bring  a  roc's  egg.  The  genie  gave 
such  a  loud  and  terdble  shriek  that  the  hall  shook. 

"  Wretch !  "  he  said,  ''  is  it  not  enough  that  I  have  done 
everything  for  you,  but  you  must  command  me  to  bring  my 
master  and  hang  him  up  in  the  midst  of  this  dome?  You  and 
your  wife  and  your  palace  deserve  to  be  burnt  to  ashes ;  but 
this  request  does  not  come  from  you,  but  from  the  brother  of 
the  African  magician  whom  you  destroyed.  He  is  now  in  your 
palace  disguised  as  the  holy  woman — whom  he  murdered.  He 
it  was  who  put  that  wish  into  your  wife's  head.  Take  care 
of  yourself,  for  he  means  to  kill  you."  So  saying  the  genie 
disappeared. 

Aladdin  went  back  to  the  princess,  saying  his  head  ached, 
and  requesting  that  the  holy  Fatima  should  be  fetched  to  lay 
her  hands  on  it.  But  when  the  magician  came  near,  Aladdin, 
seizing  his  dagger,  pierced  him  to  the  heart. 

"  What  have  you  done  ?  "  cried  the  princess.  "  You  have 
killed  the  holy  woman !  " 


ALADDIN'S   WONDERFUL   LAMP  149 

"  Not  so,"  replied  Aladdin,  "  but  a  wicked  magician,"  and 
told  her  of  how  she  had  been  deceived. 

After  this  Aladdin  and  his  wife  lived  in  peace.  He  suc- 
ceeded the  Sultan  when  he  died,  and  reigned  for  many  years, 
leaving  behind  him  a  long  line  of  kings. 


RI' 


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