PJ 
 
 7755 
 A4 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 1 . OLLENDORFF S NEW METHOD OF LEARNING THE GERMAN, with 
 
 an Outline of the Grammar of the Language. By G. J. ABLER, Professor 
 of German in the University of the City of New York. 1 vol. 12mo. 
 D. Appleton & Co., New York, 1845. 
 
 2. A PROGRESSIVE GERMAN READER, adapted to Adler s Outline of Ger 
 
 man Grammar. By the same. 1 vol 12mo. New York, 1846. 
 
 3. GERMAN-ENGLISH AND ENGLISH-GERMAN DICTIONARY, com 
 
 piled from the most recent authorities. By the same . 1 vol. royal 
 8vo. 1400 pages. New York, 1848. 
 
 4. An abridgment of the same, prepared with reference to students of the lan 
 
 guage. By the same. 1 vol. 12mo., 844 pages. New York, 1850. 
 
 5. HAND-BOOK OF GERMAN LITERATURE. Selections from the Drama, 
 
 with chronologically arranged specimens of German Prose. By the 
 same. 1 vol. 12mo. New York, 1854. 
 
 6. GOETHE S IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS, translated from the German. By 
 
 the same. 1 vol. 12mo. New York, 1850. 
 
 7. A PRACTICAL LATIN GRAMMAR, upon the plan of Ollendorff s New 
 
 Methods. By the same. 1 vol. 12mo., 710 pages. Sanborn, Carter, 
 Bazin & Co., Boston, 1858. 
 
 8. FAURIEL S HISTORY OF PROVENCAL POETRY, translated from the 
 
 French, with an Introduction on the Literature of the History. By the 
 same. 1 vol. 8vo. Derby & Jackson, New York, 1860. 
 
 9. NOTES ON THE AGAMEMNON OF AESCHYLUS (a fragment). By the 
 
 same. Charnbersburg, 1860. 
 
 10. WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT S LINGUISTIC AL STUDIES. By the 
 
 same. (In pamphlet.) New York, 1866. 
 
 11 . GOETHE S FAUST (Parts 1st and 2d). Text and translation, with Intro 
 
 ductions on the Faust Literature, and ample notes, in two vols. By 
 the same. (In preparation.) 
 
 PROFESSOR ABLER attends to a few private students or classes in the 
 studies related to his text-books. Ladies or gentlemen desirous of availing 
 themselves of his instruction (either on their own behalf or that of minors) will 
 please address him to box 1600, N. Y. City P. O., or to the care of his publishers, 
 D. Appleton & Co., 445 Broadway. 
 
THE POETRY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE ARABS OF SPAIN. 
 
 Being the substance of a Lecture read in the small Chapel of the University 
 of the City of New York, on the evening of March 28th, 1867, 
 
 BY 
 
 G. J. ABLER, A. M., 
 
 jl 
 Late Professor of German to the University; Member of several Learned Societies. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 PRESS OF WYNKOOP & HALLENBECK, 
 
 No. 113 FULTON STBEKT, N. Y. 
 
 1867. 
 
ra 
 
 THE POETRY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE ARABS OF SPAIN. 
 
 .? substance of a Lecturo 
 
 York, on 
 
 15 Y 
 
 G. J. ABLER, A. M., 
 
 I, it i- P: erraaii lo the University; Member of several Learned Societies. 
 
 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 ESS OF WYNKOOP & HAL] EN BECK 
 
 No. 113 FULTON STREET, N. Y. 
 1867 
 
THE POETRY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE ARABS OF SPAIN 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 1 . OLLENDORFF S NEW METHOD OF LEARNING THE GERMAN, witli 
 
 an Outline of the Grammar of the Language. By G. J. ABLER, Professor 
 of German in the University of the City of New York. 1 vol. 12mo. 
 D. Appleton & Co., New York, 1845. 
 
 2. A PROGRESSIVE GERMAN READER, adapted to Adler s Outline of Ger 
 
 man Grammar. By the same. 1 vol 12mo. New York, 1846. 
 
 3. GERMAN-ENGLISH AND ENGLISH-GERMAN DICTIONARY, com- 
 i from the most recent autho 
 1400 pages. New York, 1848. 
 
 piled from the most recent authorities. By the same. 1 vol. royal 
 8vo. 
 
 4. An abridgment of the same, prepared with reference to students of the lan 
 
 guage. By the same. 1 vol. 12mo., 844 pages. New York, 1850. 
 
 5. HAND-BOOK OF GERMAN LITERATURE. Selections from the Drama, 
 
 with chronologically arranged specimens of German Prose. By the 
 same. 1 vol. 12mo. New York, 1854. 
 
 6. GOETHE S IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS, translated from the German. By 
 
 the same. 1 vol. 12mo. New York, 1850. 
 
 7. A PRACTICAL LATIN GRAMMAR, upon the plan of Ollendorff s New 
 
 Methods. By the same. 1 vol. 12mo., 710 pages. Sanborn, Carter, 
 Bazin & Co., Boston, 1858. 
 
 8. FAURIEL S HISTORY OF PROVENCAL POETRY, translated from the 
 
 French, with an Introduction on the Literature of the History. By the 
 same. 1 vol. 8vo. Derby & Jackson, New York, 1860. 
 
 9. NOTES ON THE AGAMEMNON OF AESCHYLUS (a fragment). By the 
 
 same. Chanibersburg, 1860. 
 
 10. WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT S LINGUISTICAL STUDIES. By the 
 
 same. (In pamphlet.) New York, 1866. 
 
 11 . GOETHE S FAUST (Parts 1st and 2d). Text and translation, with Intro 
 
 ductions on the Faust Literature, and ample notes, in two vols. By 
 the same. (In preparation.) 
 
 PROFESSOR ABLER attends to a few private students or classes in the 
 studies related to his text-books. Ladies or gentlemen desirous of availing 
 themselves of his instruction (either on their own behalf or that of minors) will 
 please address him to box 1600, N. Y. City P. O., or to the care of his publishers, 
 D. Appleton & Co., 445 Broadway. 
 
THE POETRY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE ARABS OF SPAIN. 
 
 Being the substance of a Lecture read in the small Chapel of the University 
 of the City of New York, on the evening of March 2Sth, 1867, 
 
 BY 
 
 G. J. ABLER, A. M., 
 
 Late Professor of German to the University; Member of several Learned Societies. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 PRESS OF WYNKOOP & HALLENBECK, 
 
 No. 113 FULTON STREET, N. Y. 
 
 1867. 
 
ft* 
 
 ENTERED accordiBg to Act of Congress, In the year 18G7, 
 By G. J. ABLER, 
 
 In the Clerk s Office of the United States District Court for the Southern 
 District ot New York. 
 

 TO THE READER, 
 
 civilization of the Moslems of Spain has for the* 
 last quarter of a century been one of the most attractive 
 themes of learned inquiry, and Science, History, Litera^ 
 ture and Art have each been eager after new Result s > 
 some of which Romance among us has sought to invest 
 with the nimbus of its charms. Of late years their po j 
 litical history and that of their polite literature have 
 more especially been favored with valuable contributions, 
 partly in the shape of translations, partly in original 
 Works, from the pens of savan-s like Gayangos, de Slane, 
 Dozy, Hammer-Purgstall, von Schack and others, and we 
 have now an abundance of new light on matters hereto 
 fore known to but few or in the dim outlines of vague 
 uncertainty. Leaving entirely aside the question of politi 
 cal history, except so far as it is interwoven with that 
 of letters, I have endeavored, in the following pages, to 
 give a brief survey of the immense field of the poetry of 
 the Arabs of Spain, =a theme long familiar to us as one 
 of fascinating romance, but known to us rather in gene 
 ralities than in living specimens sufficient to give us a 
 more or less adequate conception of its real character. 
 From this sketch I could not very well exclude a sum-- 
 mary recapitulation of the antecedents of this poetry , 
 . from its first crude tentatives of the desert to the date of 
 the establishment of the Caliphate of the West ; and these 
 antecedents are fraught with so much interest, that it is 
 hoped the reader will excuse it, if the porch should strike 1 
 
 M195166 
 
VI 
 
 him as not in strict harmony with the proportions of the 
 edifice. For the benefit of further inquiry, I subjoin 
 here also a list of the authorities upon which the little 
 work is based, and in which the student of Literary 
 History will find nearly all of any account that thus far 
 has been introduced to us. 
 
 1. LiteratUrgeschichte der Araber von ihrem Beginne bis zu Ende 
 
 des zwolften Jahrhunderts der Hidschret, von Hammer-Purgs- 
 tall. 7 vols. 8vo. Wien, 1850-1856. 
 
 2. Pocsie und Kunst der Araber in Spanien und Sicilien, von A. 
 
 F. von Schack. 2 vols. 12mo. Berlin, 1865. 
 
 3. Recherches sur PHistoire et la Litterature de PEspagne pendant 
 
 le Moyen Age, par R. Dozy. 2 vols. 8vo. Leyde, 1860. 
 
 4 Histoire des Musitlmans d Espagne jusqu a la conquete de la 
 Andalousie par les Almoravides, par R. Dozy. 4 vols. 8vo. 
 Leyde, 1861. 
 
 5. Analectes sur PHistoire et la Litterature des Arabes d Espagrie, 
 
 publics par MM. Dozy, Dugal, Krehl et Wright. Leyde, 1861. 
 
 6. History of the Mohammedan Dynasties of Spain. From the 
 
 text of Ahmed Muhammed al Makkari. Translated by Pascual 
 de Gayangos. 2 vols. 4to. London, 1840. 
 
 7. Ibn Challikan s Biographical Dictionary, translated from the 
 
 Arabic by Baron Mac Guckin de Slane. 3 vols. 4to. Paris, 
 1843-45. 
 
 8. Prolegomenes Historiques d Ibn Chaldun, traduits de 1 arabe 
 
 par M. G. de Slane. 2 vols. 4to, Paris, 1862-65. 
 
 9. Histoire des Berberes et des Dynasties Musulmans d Ibn Chal- 
 
 dun (arabe), par M. le baron de Slane, 2 vols. Algiers, 1847. 
 
 10. Journal Asiatique. Paris, 1830-1865. 
 
 I have in conclusion to express my acknowledgments 
 to a number of friends, at whose request and under whose 
 auspices my manuscript appears in type. 
 
 New York, August, 1867* 
 
 G. J. ABLER. 
 
THE POETRY OF 1HE ARABS OF SPAIN. 
 
 THE earliest poetical tentatives of the Arabs wei j e improvi 
 sations, short epigrammatic pieces produced by the inspiration 
 of the moment, and this appears to have been the only way in 
 which the poetic talent of the nation displayed itself till toward 
 the commencement of the sixth century of our era, near 
 which time the art of writing was also introduced among 
 them. 
 
 About that epoch^ however, their genius in this direction 
 developed itself with astonishing rapidity, and with such sur 
 prising success, that all the most celebrated masterpieces of 
 the pre-islamitic period, and those that passed for classical at 
 all times, were produced during the interval between the year 
 500 A. D. and the hegira (A. D. 622), i. e. within the space of 
 less than a century and a quarter. It is true, that the different 
 tribes quarrelled with one another about the priority of their 
 distinguished names, but we have the decision of one of their 
 own authorities to the effect that they all of them belonged to 
 about the same epoch, and that the oldest of them could not 
 have preceded the flight of the Prophet much more than a cen 
 tury. 
 
 The extent to which during this century poetry and the poets 
 were held in esteem by the inhabitants of the Peninsula we 
 may infer from the fact that the different tribes linked public 
 exhibitions and recitations to the annual gatherings of their 
 fairs a ceremony for which the little palm-sliaded town of 
 Okadz, about three days journey from Mecca, became more 
 especially distinguished. The fair here was on the most sump 
 tuous and extensive scale, and attended by erowds from every 
 section of the country. It was held about the beginning of the 
 three sacred months during which by an ancient custom every 
 sort of warfare, bloodshed and revenge were religiously pro 
 hibited, and where the visitors were required to silence every 
 hate. It was here that, in solemn public contest, the poets, 
 who were most commonly also warriors, reeited their verses, in 
 
8 
 
 Which they generally undertook to celebrate either their own 
 achievements, the renown of their ancestors, or the glory of 
 their respective tribes. The poem, which Won the prize on this 
 occasion, was recorded on byssus in letters of gold, and then 
 suspended from the walls of the Kaaba, the most ancient sanc 
 tuary of the sons of Ishmael, at Mecca. So runs at least an 
 old tradition, which, although recently contested, has neverthe 
 less considerable evidence in its favor. The seven great poems 
 Which constitute the body of the Muallakat (i. e. " the 
 suspended"), were thus honored with the prize, and are at this 
 day yet inviting our examination. In contradistinction to 
 all the previous more primitive attempts of the sort, these 
 poems no longer consist of but a few brief verses \ they are corn- 
 jposinons of more considerable dimensions, constructed with 
 more artistic rhythm and rounded off* into a more or less con 
 sistent whole. It is true, they are not pervaded by one domi 
 nant idea | they consist mostly of a series of emotions and 
 descriptions rather loosely strung together ; but amid all this 
 cisregard for strict unity of design, they yet exhibit at least a 
 tendency to a definite aim, and in point of technical execution 
 every part of them is constructed upon the same metre and 
 with the same rhyme, the latter here extending itself to the 
 middle as well as to the end of the verse (belt), which the Arabs 
 invariably divided into two equal parts or hemistichs (misra). 
 All these seven poems of the Muallakat belong to What the 
 Arabs call the kassida, a name applied to every regular poetic 
 composition of from twenty to one hundred lines. In other 
 respects this may then be either of the narrative or descriptive, 
 the panegyric or satirical, the elegiac, the martial, or the ama 
 tory kind* 
 
 Now Okadz did not long remain the only place at which fetes 
 of the sort were instituted. As the love of poesy struck deeper 
 root among the people, the mufacharas or public poetic recitations 
 also became more general, and there was many an occasion on 
 which the different tribes vied with each other in their attempts 
 to produce the best poet, and to celebrate the victor with joyous 
 demonstrations of every sort. The tribe even was congratulated 
 for having produced a herald of its exploits to perpetuate its 
 name among posterity. In a word, poetry now became one of 
 the most vital elements of national existence, and that not only 
 in the tents of the various chiefs or at the courts of the petty 
 kings, but among all the members of the shiftless nomadic 
 groups, which, as they roamed over the dreary waste of their 
 unmeasured deserts, made the Welkin ring with songs commem- 
 
9 
 
 orating heroic courage, fidelity and love. The poet enjoyed 
 a sort of patriarchal respect, wherever he went. He was not 
 unfrequently constituted umpire for the adjustment of differ 
 ences, and every one strove to win his favor or to avoid his 
 displeasure. 
 
 Much of the poetry of this early pagan period presents a 
 curious and striking contrast, or rather incongruity, of substance 
 and of form. For, while on the one hand we encounter the 
 most unlicensed passions of a barbaric age, and an almost 
 unmitigated thirst for murder and revenge, we on the other, 
 find all this invested with a subtilty of speech and a refined 
 elegance of expression, as if the poem had been composed for 
 no other object than that of illustrating a chapter of grammar 
 01* of rhetoric ! Surprising as it may seem, the Arabs of the 
 desert were most indefatigable and even critical students of 
 their language, of which they not only made themselves gram 
 matically masters, but were no less fastidious about the choice 
 of words, the faultlessness of their rhymes and other points 
 esteemed essential to excellence and purity of style. This was 
 a study, to which they applied themselves from early youth, 
 and which the poets kept up with unceasing vigilance as long 
 as they composed. Let the following serve as an instance of 
 perhaps extreme nicety on this point : It once happened that 
 two poets, Amrulkais and Alkama, engaged in a discussion 
 with each other about th :;ir art, and entertained each other 
 with the rehearsal of some of their own pieces. There being 
 no umpire present, they agreed to make one of the wife of 
 Amrulkais, and she was to decide which of the two deserved 
 the precedence. The contest had no sooner commenced, than 
 each one did his utmost to excel his rival, until the moment at 
 last arrived to award the prize. The fair judge declared herself 
 in favor of Alkama, on the ground that he had furnished the 
 most successful description of the horse. The decision wounded 
 her husband s poetic honor so much, that he at once insisted on 
 divorce, and the affair ended by her getting married to his rival. 
 (Caussin de Perceval, vol. i., p. 314, 345.) 
 
 The pre-islamitic poetry of the Arabs, as far as it has come 
 down to us, is preserved mainly in the four collections of the 
 Muallakeit,,the Hamasa, the Divan of the Hudseilites (a tribe 
 long at war with the Koreishites), and the Great Book of Songs 
 (Kitab el aghani). Let us now briefly survey the leading points 
 to be considered first in regard to the Muallakat and then con 
 cerning the remaining collections of this period. 
 
 In glancing at the different kasstdas of the Muallakat, we are 
 at once struck with the observation, that none of them transcend 
 
10 
 
 the limits of a certain circle of ideas, and that this circle is itself 
 a somewhat circumscribed one. The cause of this is obvious 
 enough. The Arab had neither a mythology nor epic tradi 
 tions, like the Oriental or the Greek, and in his attempt to make 
 poetry was restricted either to the expression of his personal emo 
 tions or to the delineation of the circumstances of life and nature 
 by which he was surrounded. And here even he limited himself 
 to mere descriptions; for he remained a stranger to the drama, 
 as well as to the epos, and that not only at this early period, but 
 at every epoch of his history. We need not therefore be sur 
 prised to meet with the almost incessant recurrence of the same 
 objects in nearly every one of these compositions, as for example, 
 the perils of a march through the desert, a collision with some 
 hostile tribe, the description of a horse, camel or gazelle, of a 
 thunderstorm or hurricane, the celebration of the charms of the 
 poet s lady-love or of the excellence of his arms, and the like. 
 Of all this we encounter more or less in every one of the kas- 
 sidas of the Muallakat, and yet we cannot accuse them either of 
 monotony or of a want of interest. The keen observation of 
 the Arab considers these few objects from a thousand different 
 points of view, and his prolific invention invests them with a 
 bold novelty, a variety and freshness, which never fail to touch 
 the imagination and the heart. 
 
 The names linked to the seven kassidas of the Muallakat 
 are Shanfara, Antar, Tarafa, Ibn Kultum, Tuhair, Amrul- 
 kais, and Lebid. Of the lives of these poets we know but 
 very little, and it is not of much moment that we should. 
 Let it suffice for our purpose to give in outline a specimen or 
 two of their poetry. The kassida of Shanfara delineates with 
 masterly touches the hero of the desert in all his native, 
 although savage, grandeur. At variance with all the world, he 
 at the hour of midnight moves out into the desert, where he 
 then hails the fierce panther and the shaggy hyaena as his 
 friends. Stretched out upon the hard and sun-seared ground, 
 with no other companion but his trusty bow, his flashing 
 sword and his own dauntless heart, he takes his sole delight in 
 solitude, which offers the hero refuge against the envy and jeal 
 ousy of his rivals. In many a cold night he has fearlessly ad 
 vanced through the howling storm and darkness, attended by 
 hunger and by every thing calculated to inspire terror. He has 
 made many a woman a widow and many a child an orphan. 
 But he has met with nothing but ingratitude from the brethren 
 of his tribe ; it is this which has produced his present aversion 
 to men, and he now bids welcome to the monsters of the desert, 
 
11 
 
 which never betray a friend or carelessly blab out his secrets. 
 He is resolved henceforth to live among the slender-bodied 
 wolves which plunge through the ravines with the rapidity of 
 the wind. He chooses them, because they are brave and defiant 
 like himself ! The kassida of Lebid, the last of these ancient 
 poets, is a no less curious little #e?*re-sketch of the life of the 
 old Arabs. He boasts of himself as always on the alert for the 
 defense of his tribe from his watch-post on the hill-top, whence 
 he may observe every movement of the enemy, and whence 
 their standards even are enveloped by the clouds of dust arising 
 from his horse s u oofs. At his tent the traveller always finds 
 shelter against .ne chills of the morning, when the reins of 
 the winds are i \ the hands of the icy North. No poor woman, 
 impelled by hunger to seek his protection, has ever been refused 
 the comforts of his frugal home. The poet then gives us an 
 earnest lesson on the inconstancy of all things here below, and 
 on the evanescence of our own brief span of life. We pass away, 
 while the stars rising on the sky remain permanent,and the moun 
 tains and palaces surpass us in duration. No mortal can escape 
 from the allotments of his Fate, and when his hour strikes, he falls. 
 It is with men as it is with camps and those that occupy them ; 
 if the latter move away the former remain desolate. Man is 
 but a flash of lightning or a flame, and is reduced to ashes the 
 moment the light expires. Lebid was the last of the seven 
 authors of the Muallakat, and lived long enough to have 
 an interview with the Prophet, which is curious enough to de 
 serve at least a passing notice. Mohammed s preaching had 
 already produced a great sensation, and while many were yet 
 doubting and even deriding his pretensions, there were many 
 others who were no less anxious to ascertain the truth. Among 
 tLe latter were the members of Lebid s tribe, and they knew no 
 better way to satisfy themselves than that of commissioning the 
 old poet to inquire in their behalf. The latter went and found 
 the Prophet in the act of haranguing an assembly in a most elo 
 quent discourse, in which he happened to repeat a portion of 
 the second sura. The passage, which is an extremely forcible 
 one, produced so powerful an effect on our poet, that he declared 
 his muallaka surpassed, and resolved to renounce his art for ever, 
 to embrace Islam in its stead. 
 
 We must not allow this incident, however, to mislead us in 
 respect to the influence of the Koran on the subsequent devel 
 opment of Arabic poetry ; for this influence was rather a gen 
 eral than a special one, and on that account remained much 
 more limited than we might be inclined to suspect. Lebid s 
 
12 
 
 poetical successors were doubtless all of them Moslems without 
 reproach, schooled in their sacred book from early youth and 
 ready to defend their faith on every occasion, even with the 
 sword, but we nevertheless find them at all times looking up to 
 their predecessors of the olden time as the great masters of 
 their art, whom they considered it possible only to rival but 
 never to surpass, as in respect to the language also they con 
 sidered the desert with its old poets the only school from which 
 to learn, and on that account often left distant courts and prov 
 inces to study among the Beduins of the cradle of their faith. 
 
 The remaining collections of the pagan period, that is to 
 say, the Hamasa, the Divan of the Hudseilites and others, offer 
 us a much larger number of pieces, mostly, however, of smaller 
 dimensions, but of much more varied contents than the kassldas. 
 We have here strung together side by side poetical effusions of 
 every class, heroic songs, lays of the martial and the amatory 
 kind (ghasels), dirges and satires, sportive and convivial songs, 
 3Iany of these pieces evince no small degree of lyrical elevation ; 
 they offer us a multitude of striking similes, a surprising versatil 
 ity of construction and a certain bold abruptness of style. Nev- 
 theless, the Arab here likewise neither did nor could transcend 
 the horizon ot his circumscribed ideas, and the subjects and sen 
 timents of all these compositions never pass beyond the limited 
 circle of his particular mode of life. Demonstrations of indig 
 nation at the wounded honor of his tribe, invectives against an 
 enemy, expressions of sorrow and menaces of revenge over the 
 murder of a relative or friend, exultation over feats of prowess 
 amid some perilous encounter, exhortations to courage, with 
 .now and then an apophthegm or sage maxim of life, and occa 
 sionally also sentiments of a humaner sort, such as regretful 
 sighs addressed to a distant love whose image does not cease to 
 visit him in his dreams, such are most commonly the themes 
 which inspire the poet of this period, and on which he 
 -expends all the ingenuity and art of which his genius was capa 
 ble. 
 
 The introduction of Islam produced a complete revolu 
 tion in the intellectual condition of the Arab and gave his- 
 entire life and character not only a new direction, but an eleva 
 tion and expansion for which we can scarcely find a parallel in 
 history. While in his primitive condition his ideas were deter 
 mined wholly by the impulse of the moment and the circum 
 stances by which he found himself surrounded, the unrivalled 
 eloquence of the Prophet suddenly broke down the limits of time 
 
13 
 
 and space by pointing the dazzled hearer on the one hand to the 
 seven heavens above with the felicity of the Blessed, and on 
 the other to the unfathomed pool below, ready to engulf the 
 unbeliever in its flames. He was introduced to Allah, the only 
 One and the Supreme, the terror of the perverse and the 
 munificent rewarderof the observers of his law. The delights 
 of the Paradise, more especially held out to the believer, were 
 of the most enchanting and transcendent kind, and operated 
 with the influence of magic on the naturally material motives 
 of the Arab s mind. The Koran was therefore no sooner fairly 
 introduced among the different tribes than it at once became 
 the foundation of their entire culture, and so powerful was 
 the inspiration of its doctrines, that they were ready not 
 only to defend them as a divine revelation but even to 
 enforce their recognition with the point of the lance in every 
 portion of the world. Islam thus became synonymous with 
 conquest, and the stern Beduin of the desert in an almost incred 
 ibly short time made himself the military suzerain of immense 
 territories, the builder of castles, palaces and cities without 
 number, the founder of dynasties, and the possessor of all the 
 luxuries and refined material enjoyments that can convert life 
 into an almost literal realization of his dreams of Paradise. It 
 was thus that within a century of the hegira (A. D. 622-722) 
 the empire of the caliphs won an expansion, such as none, 
 either before or after, ever could boast of in history, extending 
 at times towards the East as far as the confines of China, and 
 in the West not only over the whole of the north of Africa 
 and over Spain, but sometimes even beyond the Pyrenees as 
 far as the Garonne. The first seat of the new government 
 was Medina, where Mohammed died in A. D. 633, and where 
 his successor ruled until C60. In that year Damascus became 
 the capital of the caliphate with the accession of the Ommaiades, 
 who made that city their residence until the fall of the dynasty 
 in A. D. 718. In 775 Bagdad was preferred by the Abbassides, 
 who retained that as the seat of their dynasty until the extinc 
 tion of the chaliphate of the East in A. D. 1258. In the West 
 the petty meleks or kings for more than a century remained 
 tributary to the Prophet s successor at Damascus, until their 
 own dissensions and the many alternations of the war led to 
 the establishment of the rival caliphate of the West in A. D. 
 749. The founder of this dynasty was Abdurrahman, a scion 
 of the Ommaiades, who upon the accession of the Abbassides 
 in the East, had alone been fortunate enough to escape 
 from the atrocious massacre of his kinsmen and to find his 
 
14: 
 
 way into Spain. The centre of the Western Caliphate, which 
 was one of great power and splendor, was Cordova (750- 
 1027). After its dissolution, the Moslem provinces of Spain 
 were again ruled by a number of petty kings, among whom we 
 must more especially mention those who resided at Granada and 
 Seville. The dominion of the Arabs in Spain, counting from 
 the first invasion, lasted from A. D. 711 until 1492, that is to 
 say, within a few years of eight centuries. The last stern 
 defender of Islam upon the soil of Spain was Abul Hassan of 
 Granada, and his son Boabdil the last Moorish king, expelled 
 by Ferdinand the Catholic in 1492. 
 
 One might suppose that so complete a change of sentiment 
 and life as that introduced by the new religion, and the per 
 petual din of arms with the intoxication of success attending 
 the first conquests, would have entirely hushed the voice of the 
 old poetry of the Arabs, at least for a considerable time. But 
 this was far from being the case. For, in the first place, we 
 find not only poets, but poets of the court even, directly after 
 the establishment of the caliphate of Damascus, and in the sec 
 ond place, the Koran, although worshiped as the great text 
 book at once of the religion and of the education of the Moslem, 
 and venerated as a model of eloquence not to be surpassed or 
 even approached, nevertheless can not be said to have either 
 radically changed or even seriously modified the poetics of the 
 Arabs, who in this respect continued to cling to their antece 
 dents of the Muallakat and of the Divan. The extent to which 
 this was the case is best illustrated by the following little inci 
 dent : The celebrated Feresdak, chancing one day to overhear 
 a passer-by repeating a passage from Lebid s muallaka, pros 
 trated himself upon the ground, as if in prayer, and when 
 interrogated about the cause of this, he replied, " Ye others 
 recite passages from the Koran, at which ye expect us to fall 
 down ; I am acquainted with verses to which the same homage is 
 due." And this was not the sentiment of an individual only, or of 
 a particular epoch ; it was the general one at all times, and there 
 were even those who went to the extreme of pronouncing all 
 the poetry of the islamitic period but a feeble echo of that of 
 the earlier golden age. 
 
 The dynasty of the Ommaiades no sooner was fairly estab 
 lished on its throne, than it already retained regularly paid poets 
 permanently at its court. One of the main duties of these poets 
 was avowedly that of the celebration of the sovereign at whose 
 residence they were thus honored, and their kassidas are there 
 fore mostly of the panegyric kind. The poet generally begins 
 
15 
 
 with allusions to his lady-love and to her former place of resi 
 dence ; he next describes the journey which is to conduct him 
 to the presence of his Maecenas, and then concludes with a most 
 elaborately pompous eulogy of the suzerain. The importance 
 attached to pieces of this sort by the rulers of the East was 
 often very great, and there are instances in which a single 
 happy expression or a memorable verse relating to their praise 
 became an object of no little jealousy among them. 
 
 The number of poets, which flourished during the first cen 
 tury of the new era, was already very considerable, and the 
 respect and influence which the most prominent of them en 
 joyed among the nation at large, was often an immense one. 
 Indeed, it not unfrequently happened that their favor was 
 courted, as if it were a royal one, and the displeasure of their 
 verses dreaded as that of the most deadly enemy. All classes 
 of society were pervaded by a veritable passion for the noble 
 art, which neither the clash of arms nor the wild fanaticism, 
 which at that time was in full blaze to disseminate the new law 
 over the entire world, were able to silence or suppress. We 
 thus find, that even amid the noisiest alarms of war the compara 
 tive merit of two rival poets was discussed with a zeal that 
 scarcely could be surpassed, had the question turned upon the 
 most important affair of state, and that on the eve of a battle 
 and in the presence of two armies a public duel was to be fought 
 to decide the question, as to whether Djerir or Feresdak 
 was the greater poet of the two. This Djerir and Feresdak 
 together with Achtal enjoyed the fame of being the most dis 
 tinguished representatives of their art during the first century ; 
 and of this they themselves appear to have been so well aware, 
 that each of them looked upon himself as the superior not only 
 of his rivals but even of his predecessors, an evidence that an 
 excess of modesty was not among their foibles or their virtues, 
 as it in fact rarely was among any of the poets of the Moslem 
 faith. For the rest, however, Djerir seems to have been the 
 most successful of the three, and he could boast of himself as 
 unsurpassed in every department of poetry, while the rest ex 
 celled only in a special branch. A kassida, composed in honor 
 of the caliph, pleased, we are told, the latter so well, that he 
 promised the poet five hundred camels for his reward. Djerir, 
 however, not satisfied yet, expressed his apprehension, that 
 they might run away, unless they had a keeper. " Very well, 
 then," replied the caliph, " I ll give you eight slaves to watch 
 them." " Then, Emir of the Faithful, I need nothing more 
 than a vessel into which to milk them," added the poet, keep- 
 
16 
 
 ing his eye riveted upon a golden bowl, which he found stand 
 ing in the hall, and the magnanimity of his illustrious patron 
 could not well refuse to add this costly present to the rest. 
 (Journal Asiatique, 3834, No. ii., p. IS, 22). 
 
 As a part of the material organization of Moslem poetry we 
 must not forget to mention a particular class of men, analogous 
 to the jongleurs of the Provencals, by the Arabs called rawias, 
 whose business consisted in reciting and disseminating the works 
 of their poets among the nation at large. They were accus 
 tomed to move as itinerants from place to place, and their 
 rehearsals were devoured by crowds of eager listeners every 
 where. Some of them are reported to have been such prodigies 
 of memory, that the stories told of them border on the incredible. 
 It will be enough for our purpose to make room for one. Caliph 
 Al Walid once happening to ask rawia Hammad how many 
 poems he knew by heart, the latter replied : " I can repeat to 
 you for every letter of the alphabet one hundred long kassidas, 
 all of them rhyming with the letter, to say nothing of the many 
 shorter pieces. And all these kassidas are of the pagan age, to 
 which I might add many an other from the days of Islam." 
 Challenged to verify his boast, he then recited to the caliph s 
 representative (for the prince himself might have grown weary 
 of the trial) no less than two thousand nine hundred kassidas 
 from the pagan time, and was rewarded with the munificent 
 present of one hundred thousand dirhems for the feat, 
 
 But not content with the mere recital of their poetry, the 
 Arabs also sung much of it, especially the minor pieces, probably 
 of the amatory kind, to the sound of various instruments. The 
 art of music had anciently been much in vogue among them, 
 and although some of the more fastidious believers for a time 
 made objections to it from the writings of the Prophet, it yet 
 soon not only recovered but even surpassed its former popu 
 larity, and the palaces of the caliphs were resonant with the 
 merry notes of the human voice, and of the lute and cithern. 
 The number of singers of both sexes during the first century 
 and a half was very great, and we have even biographies left of 
 many of them. Most of them were either of Persian origin or 
 had been educated in their art by Persian masters, to whom the 
 Moslems thus probably became indebted for nearly all the new 
 improvements in this respect. The most celebrated of these 
 singers were Mabed and Assa ul Meila, the latter of whom 
 enjoyed the reputation of being the princess of all the players 
 on the cithern and the lute, while Mabed was allowed to boast 
 against a general of having composed the music to seven songs, 
 
17 
 
 for each of which he claimed an honor superior to that of the 
 capture of a fortress; and so little opposition did his pretension 
 meet with, that the seven melodies subsequently acquired the 
 appellation of Mabed s fortresses. 
 
 Such then was, briefly, the state of poetry and music 
 under the Eastern Caliphate until about the extinction of the 
 Ommaiades in A. D. 817. The accession of the next dynasty, 
 that of the Abbassides, initiated but a new career of splendor, 
 superior even to the first ; but this we are here not at liberty 
 to trace, it being now high time for us to turn our attention to 
 the West, to the new Caliphate of the Ommaiades :it Cordova, 
 which from about this date for upward of two centuries divided 
 the power and the glory of the Moslem world. Before the 
 arrival of Abdurrahman, the Arabs of Spain were too much 
 diverted by the war to have much leisure or inclination for 
 poetry or any of the fine arts, but under the auspices of this 
 prince and his illustrious successors the whole of the civilization 
 of the East was successfully transplanted upon western soil, 
 where it soon began to rival whatever there was of refinement 
 and intelligence, of luxury and splendor at the Eastern court, 
 and where it continued to flourish with a few transient inter 
 ruptions until the extinction of the Moorish domination in Spain. 
 Before proceeding now to survey the poetry of the West, it will 
 not be out of place to give a brief outline oSf the general state of 
 Setters and the arts, as cultivated and introduced by the princes 
 of this noble line. 
 
 Abdurrahman and his immediate successors contributed to 
 the material advancement of the nation on the most extensive 
 and magnificent scale. During their reign, Cordova grew up 1 
 into the largest city of the West, with its one hundred and thir 
 teen thousand houses (exclusive of the palaces and other public 
 buildings), its twenty-eight suburbs and its three thousand 
 mosques. In every direction from the city, the valley of the 
 Guadalquivir was checkered with palaces and villas, with exten 
 sive gardens and charming places of public resort, inviting the 
 inhabitants to their refreshing shade. A huge bridge was 
 thrown across the river, and the immense mosque constructed 
 whose grandeur and magnificence were for centuries the object 
 of admiration and of pious visit to believers from every portion 
 of the world. The court of Abdurrahman II. vied in luxurious 
 splendor with that of Bagdad, and at his behest numberless 
 palaces, mosques, aqueducts, bridges, and other public works 
 arose in rapid succession over every pare of Andalusia. Under 
 Abdurrahman III., who was the first to assume the title of Caliph 
 2 
 
IS 
 
 of the West, the Kingdom of Andalusia reached its zenith of 
 material prosperity, and the genius of this magnanimous prince 
 made that prosperity the basis of so high an intellectual culture, 
 that the writers of the West and East never grew weary of 
 speaking in terms of rapture of his character and influence. 
 
 The general education of the nation, as well as the advance 
 ment of the sciences and arts, was conducted with still greater 
 zeal and with the most brilliant success by the next following 
 caliph, Hakem II., under whose auspices the public institutions 
 of his kingdom attained to a degree of perfection, such as they 
 had never seen before, and such as probably at that time scarce 
 existed anywhere else either in the West or East. While in the 
 rest of Europe scarcely any one, except the clergy, knew how 
 to read and write, Andalusia, and in fact the whole of Moorish 
 Spain, had schools without number, in which the art was gen 
 erally taught, and Hakem gave his capital alone twenty-seven 
 for the special purpose of educating the children of the poorer 
 classes free of expense. Nor was there any lack of institutions 
 of a higher grade; there were numerous academies, generally 
 attached to the mosques, at Cordova. Seville, Toledo, Valencia, 
 Almeria, Malaga and Jaen, at which the superior disciplines 
 were taught, such as the interpretation of the Koran, philology, 
 the mathematics, astronomy, medicine, jurisprudence and phi 
 losophy, and the halls of which attracted both hearers and pro 
 fessors from all parts of the Mohammedan, and after a while 
 also from the Christian, world. So general was the taste and 
 even the zeal for studies, that as these Spanish institutions were 
 frequented by students from the remotest parts of Asia and the 
 heart of Germany, the AndalusiaES on their part would fre 
 quently not shun the hardships of the long journey to the East 
 to quench their thirst for knowledge in the lecture-room of 
 some distinguished master at Tunis, Cairwan, Cairo, Damascus, 
 Bagdad, Mecca, Bassora or Cufa, and there are instances on 
 record in which such learned pilgrimages extended as far as 
 India and China, and into the very heart of Africa. 
 
 But not content with the mere viva vox of knowledge, Hakem 
 was determined to possess it in a more permanent form ; lie 
 founded a library for which his agents were commissioned to 
 make collections in every part of the world, until the number 
 of its volumes, for which he made room in his palace at Cor 
 dova, had risen to the enormous figure of four hundred thousand. 
 And all the books of this immense collection, it is asserted, were 
 read or consulted by the Caliph himself, and many of them 
 enriched with marginal notes from his own hand. The personnel 
 
19 
 
 of this library included a number of the most skillful copyists 
 and binders, who occupied themselves constantly with the 
 multiplication or the restoration of the precious manuscripts. 
 Hakem s court thus soon became the natural resort for all the 
 genius of the nation, and his liberality towards men of letters is 
 said to have known no bounds. The intellectual life developed 
 under the benign auspices of this prince wns therefore naturally 
 and in every respect a most brilliant one, and there is no example 
 like it anywhere in the Middle Age. Nor was the had jib or 
 chamberlain of Hakem s impotent successor, the great Alrnansur, 
 indifferent to science, but encouraged and rewarded merit in 
 every one, except that his religious fanaticism restricted the 
 liberty of speech in matters of philosophy, to which before him 
 there had been no restraint. 
 
 The capture of Cordova by the Berbers in 1013 scattered 
 Hakem s immense collection of books, all of which were then 
 either destroyed or sold. The downfall of the Caliphate, how 
 ever, so far from burying beneath its ruins the civilization it 
 had so successfully initiated and advanced, gave rise to a new 
 period of literary history, in every respect equal, if not supe 
 rior, to that which had preceded. The numerous independent 
 states, which formed themselves out of the dismembered empire, 
 became as many centres of intellectual light, of learned and 
 artistic culture. The small dynasties of Seville, Granada, 
 Toledo, Badajoz and Almeria vied with each other in their zeal 
 for the advancement of the sciences and arts, and drew within 
 their circles crowds of authors, artists and other men of 
 genius or talent, which then either received regular salary 
 or costly presents for the dedication of their works.* At 
 all of these courts, the intellect, even in matters of spec 
 ulative philosophy, enjjyed a degree of freedom, such as 
 in some parts of Europe the nineteenth century does not yet 
 
 * In connection with this patronage there was undoubtedly often much 
 servility. We have, however, already met with instances of no small 
 degree of independence, and the following is one which may well pass for a 
 literary curiosity. An eminent philologian by the name of Abu Galib hap 
 pened to attract the attention of Mudjahid the king of Denia, who prom 
 ised him a horse, a superb suit of armor, and one thousand pieces of gold, 
 if he would honor him with the dedication of one of his works. But the 
 author promptly declined the present together with the honor by saying : 
 "I have written my book, to be of service to mankind and to make my 
 name immortal ; and why should I now adorn it with the name of another 
 and thus transfer the fame of it to him? No ! I shall never do it ! The 
 ernir, who was a sensible man, no sooner heard of the reply, than, so far 
 from being offended, he expressed admiration for the savant s independence, 
 and sent him double the amount of the promised gift. 
 
20 
 
 seem prepared to boast of. Some of the princes of these houses 
 themselves participated, like the caliphs, in the general emu 
 lation, and even won celebrity either as poets, philosophers or 
 authors of some other kind. Such were, for example, El Mok- 
 tadir of Saragossa, El Mutsaffir of Badajoz, some of the Ab- 
 badides of Sevilla, of the Benu Somadih of Almeria and others. 
 It is true, that this state of things was not unfrequently men 
 aced partly by the advances of the Christian armies, and 
 sometimes also by the fanaticism of the Moorish allies called 
 in from Africa to aid against them, yet it may nevertheless be 
 said to have lasted with no material interruption until the very 
 end of the Moslem rule in Spain. Under the Almohades, espe 
 cially under Abdulmunen and his successor Jussuf, Cordova 
 once more regained some of its former glory, as a seat of letters 
 and a place for books, and about this time its academies could 
 boast of men no less eminent than Averroes, Abenzoar and 
 Abu Bacer, who long before our own revival of letters drew 
 the writings of Aristotle (although, it is maintained, only in 
 Syriac translations) from their oblivion, and with their bold 
 philosophical researches won themselves not only an immense 
 cotemporary celebrity, but a permanent place in the history of 
 philosophy. In regard to books, it has been ascertained that 
 as late as the thirteenth century the different cities of Anda 
 lusia contained no less than seventy libraries open to the public 
 (Journal Asiatique, 18-38, No. IV., p. 73). 
 
 When in 1236 the grand mosque of Cordova was sur 
 mounted by the Christian cross and soon after Sevilla also sur 
 rendered to the king of Castile, the dominion of the Arabs 
 found itself reduced to much narrower limits, and the kingdom 
 of Granada now became the only seat of power left them. 
 This little kingdom, however, continued to maintain in the 
 most creditable manner the prestige of Moslem civilization in 
 tact for at least two centuries and a half after the fall of Cordova, 
 and most of its princes, after the example of Mohammed Ben 
 Ah mar, not only zealously kept up their schools and libraries, 
 but generously opened their court as an asylum to the many 
 unfortunate men of genius or learning expelled from conquered 
 quarters. Granada thus still remained, and to the very last, 
 the seat of no small degree of literary culture, which was yet 
 possessed of vitality enough to survive even the fall of the 
 Moorish dominion in Spain for some time after upon the soil of 
 Africa. 
 
 The centre and the soul of all this astonishing development 
 of intellectual life in Moorish Spain was, we may say it with- 
 
21 
 
 out exaggeration, poetry, which for at leist six centuries was 
 cultivated with so much zeal and by so large a number, 
 that a mere register of alt the Arabic poets of the Penin 
 sula would fill entire folios. The taste for it had by the 
 middle of the ninth century already become so general, that 
 not only the Arabs, but even some of the Christians subject to 
 their sway, occupied themselves with making verses in the 
 idiom of Islam. About a century later we already begin to 
 meet with anthologies, as for example, " The Gardens" of 
 Ibn Ferradj, the two hundred chapters of which (each chapter 
 of one hundred distichs) were exclusively devoted to pieces 
 from the pens of Andalusian authors. This collection was soon 
 followed by numerous others, of which some professed merely 
 to complete it, while others made the necessary additions for 
 the next following centuries. Such were more especially those 
 of Ibn Bessam and of Ibn Chakan, which for a long time 
 circulated widely as the most complete and popular. We need 
 not be surprised therefore to find, that under influences like 
 these poetry should have allied itself so intimately not only 
 with the social relations, but even with the daily industrial oc 
 cupations and enterprises of the nation, and that as the princes 
 sometimes did not disdain to emulate each other, and even the 
 poets in the art of making verses, so the very peasant of the 
 field took pleasure in his ingenious improvisations, and the 
 man behind the plough would sometimes boast of his ability 
 to spin out his rhymes on any given theme. Among the 
 caliphs and the princes the talent, or at any rate the attempt, 
 was so general, that there is yet extant a work exclusively de 
 voted to the kings and nobles of Andalusia, who excelled in 
 this respect. Nor were the ladies deficient either in ambition 
 or success, and the women of the harem not unfrequently con 
 tested the prize with men. Poetical inscriptions upon the 
 walls and pillars of the palaces, which were often very ingeni 
 ously executed, constituted one of their most valued ornaments. 
 The cavalier needed a verse or two for the blade of his scimitar, 
 and there was no dull novelist or historian who could refrain 
 from spicing his pages with some metrical citations or fragments 
 of his own. The talent for poetry was not unfrequently the 
 passport by which men from the lowest ranks rose to the high 
 est offices of state, and to princely influence and fortune. 
 Verses were employed to give emphasis or eclat to diplomatic 
 transactions ; sometimes they became the signal for bloody 
 conflict, as also th^en again the charm to mitigate the victor s 
 wrath. A single happy improvisation is known to have saved 
 
22 
 
 the life of more than one condemned, and to have burst the 
 bolts of prisons. Rhyme-duels between two combatants in the 
 presence of their respective armies were among the most com 
 mon occurrences of warfare, while poetic challenges, as an 
 exercise of wit, constituted one of the standing amusements of 
 daily life. Of epistolary correspondence in verse between 
 friends and lovers there is also no lack of evidence. In a word, 
 the ability to express one s self in rhyme passed for one of the 
 most coveted accomplishments, and the mania insinuated itself 
 even into works of science and into papers of state. 
 
 As in the East, so also at Cordova, we meet with several 
 poets who made themselves more especially conspicuous at 
 court. Under the earlier caliphs, there was, in the first place, 
 Yahyah, surnamed also from his personal appearance El Gazal 
 (i. c. the gazelle), who w;is honored with several important 
 embassies, and whose polished refinement of manners and con 
 versation made him welcome everywhere. While at Constan 
 tinople, the emperor expressed the wish to retain him in his 
 service, but he excused himself by saying that he could 
 not keep him company, on account of his inability to 
 drink wine with him. One day upon the appearance of the 
 empress, he professed himself completely vanquished by her 
 charms, which he then went on to celebrate in the most glow 
 ing terms, a flattery which raised him still higher in the 
 estimation of both their majesties. When on another mission 
 to the king of the Normans, he produced an equally good im 
 pression by improvising some felicitous verses on the great 
 beauty of Queen Theuda. At a later date, however, he was 
 obliged to wander into exile on account of some satirical 
 verses, which gave offense to Abdurrahman II., and then went 
 to Bagdad, where his ingenuity and esprit soon succeeded in 
 overcoming completely the fastidious prejudice against the 
 poetry of the West, still in vogue there. In connection with 
 the court of Abdurrahman II., we have more especially to 
 notice a singer by the name of Ziryab from Bagdad, who had 
 come to Cordova on special invitation. His reception was of 
 the most flattering description : a superb mansion was assigned 
 to him, while his revenue in money and other allowances was 
 equal to that of a prince; and princely also was the display he 
 made of it, he never appearing in public without the attend 
 ance of one hundred slaves. But Ziryab was far from being 
 a mere singer of the ordinary kind ; he had travelled extensively, 
 had studied poetry, astronomy, history, and art, was a man of 
 taste and wit, and his conversations on every branch of knowl- 
 
23 
 
 erlge were so fascinating and instructive, that the caliph chose 
 him for his most intimate associate. In his own art, he knew 
 the words and tunes of ten thousand songs by heart ; and his 
 singing was so enchanting, that the report obtained of his 
 receiving nightly visitations from g.m ri, instructing him in melo 
 dies. The court of Abdurrahman III. boasted of the names of 
 Ibn Abdrebbihi and Mondhir Ibn Said, from the latter of 
 whom the caliph received a most important service at the 
 reception of an embassy. It once happened that some envoys 
 from Constantinople had arrived, and they were received in the 
 magnificently decorated hall destined for that purpose. On their 
 delivering their credentials and messages in solemn state, the 
 caliph called upon the most prominent of his savans present to 
 reply in an address commemorating the glory of Islam and 
 the honor of the caliphate; but they unfortunately all lost 
 their presence of mind und wretchedly failed, when all at once 
 our poet rose and delivered a long poetical harangue, by 
 which the entire audience was transported with admiration, 
 mid for which the monarch then munificently rewarded him with 
 a high office of state.* Nor were the auspices of Almansur any 
 the less favorable to poetry and the poets, in connection with, 
 whom he kept up regular literary conversazione at his palace, 
 and allowed them to accompany him even on his military expe 
 ditions. Such were, for example, Ibn Derradj, Yussuf ar 
 Ramadi, and Said, of whom the latter more especially rose to 
 high consideration by a variety of pleasing compliments, among 
 others by some ingenious couplets composed upon the capture 
 of Count Garcia Fernandez of Castile. Said, however, had 
 some jealous rivals, who attempted to defame him with the 
 charge of plagiarism. But he stood the trial imposed upon 
 him by Al-mansur so much to his credit, as only to receive 
 additional honors and rewards for it. 
 
 In connection with the first caliph, we can scarcely avoid adding the following 
 pleasant little anecdote : Abdurrahman happening to be ill, it was declare! neces 
 sary that he should be bled. Ke was seated in the great hall of the pavilion, which 
 surmounted the heights of Az-Z ihra, and the physician was just at the point of 
 applying his instrument to the caliph s arm, when suddenly a starling came flying 
 in, and after alighting up m a golden vase close by, gave utterance to the follow 
 ing verses : 
 
 " them, who with the la icet art now about to shed the blood of the Emir of 
 the Faithful, be careful, mind now, be careful of the illustrious vein, in which the 
 life of worlds is circulating !" 
 
 The starling repeated the couplet several times to the great amusement of the 
 caliph, who expressed his astonishment and desired to know who taught the bird 
 the verses. O.i learning that Murdshana, the mother of the crown-princa El 
 Hakem, was the author of the ingenious device, he rewarded her with a magnificent 
 present for the entertainment she had arranged for him. (El Makkari, ed. Orayarr- 
 gos, vol. i,, p. 232). 
 
24 
 
 The dismemberment of the caliphate gave rise to a new 
 phase in the literary life of the Moorish bnrds, and one which 
 bore much resemblance to that of the troubadours of Christian 
 Europe. The poets now commenced to move from place to 
 place, and there was probably no petty court, no castle or 
 palace of prince or noble, which did not covet their association? 
 and receive them as the honored guests of its refined society. 
 This society had now become a much freer one than that which 
 existed subject to the restraint of high court etiquette, and it 
 was on that account extremely favorable to a generous inter 
 change of thought and to a high degree of intellectual culture* 
 The poets had many more Maecenases to celebrate, and the 
 latter were rarely wanting in the ambition to appreciate and 
 reward them. The charming sky of Andalusia was of itself 
 enough to dispose even the obtuser mind to the delightful 
 intercourse of song and poesy, and the enchanting moon 
 light-evenings in some sequestered palace garden naturally 
 invited to the recital of some fairy Oriental tale or to inge 
 nious poetical improvisations, while the soft evening breezes 
 wafted coolness from the fountains and fragrance from the 
 flowers around the merry company, or the cup circulated 
 freely among them, directed perhaps and socially partaken of by 
 the high hand itself that gave the entertainment. The man 
 ners and customs of these small courts were thus in many 
 respects identical with those of our own mediaeval chivalry, and 
 there are not wanting those who on that account are inclined to 
 refer the origin of that institution to the Moslems and the East. 
 Without being at all disposed or willing to defend this theory, 
 we are yet ready to admit that many of the ideas and principles 
 characteristic of chivalry, as for example that of honor and of 
 gallantry, may be traced among the Arabs as far back as the 
 time of their earliest antiquity. The respect for woman and 
 her protection, the glory of perilous achievements, the defense 
 of the weak or the oppressed, and the punctilious exaction of 
 revenge, constituted the main characteristics of the otherwise 
 lawless old Beduin of the desert, and this was the magic circle 
 to which his entire life belonged. The chivalry of the 
 Moslems, therefore, developed itself doubtless from its own 
 resources, and we must also add as incontestable, that the 
 spirit and refinement of it showed itself some centuries earlier 
 among them than among the warriors of Christian Europe. 
 
 The poetry of Moorish Spain differs upon the whole but 
 little, either in point of form or character, from that of the 
 
25 
 
 East, except perhaps as far as it was modified imperceptibly by 
 the influence of climate and of sky, and that not only because 
 there was identity of origin, but also because the intellectual 
 commerce between the colony and the mother country was, 
 as we have seen, an uninterrupted and often a very lively one. 
 Now this may be asserted as correct in spite of the circum 
 stance that the same can not be affirmed of the language, which 
 in the mouth of the Andalusian soon lost so much of its native 
 purity as gradually to degenerate into an ungrammatical dialect, 
 so that the Beduin of the desert (who by the way always 
 remained the authority of it) might have found fault with 
 the speech of a Moor in other respects much superior to him. 
 The fact was, that the deterioration in question affected rather 
 the speech than the written language of the Spanish Moslem, 
 who in his youth was made familiar, not only with his Koran, 
 but quite commonly also with his grammar and the poets, and 
 if he made pretentious to superior education would have 
 incurred the censure of good society, had he no f , been able 
 to recite at least a certain number (and this was not un- 
 frequently quite considerable) of elegant extracts from the 
 classical writers of his nation in poetry and prose. If he pro 
 fessed to be a poet, or intended to become one, he would 
 subject himself to a severer discipline and a more extensive 
 course on literature, nor would be ever consider himself at 
 liberty to neglect his Hamasa or his Muallakat. We need not 
 therefore be surprised to find that the poets of the West 
 generally showed no lack either of correctness or of elegance, and 
 that the most prominent of their number never failed of being 
 recognized by their rivals in the East, as in every respect their 
 peers. Ibn Zeidun thus acquired the epithet of " the 
 Bothori of the West," while Ibn Hani, Ar-Remmadi and Ibn 
 Derradj were each of them honored as * the Montenebbi of the 
 Occident," and Montenebbi himself, on hearing the poems 
 of a Spaniard recited, is said to have exclaimed with enthu 
 siastic admiration : " This people is really possessed of genius 
 for poetry !"* 
 
 The subjects treated by the poets of the West no longer 
 revolve withia the narrow circle of the Beduins of the desert, but 
 correspond in point of variety and multiplicity with the expand 
 ed relations of a more advanced civilization. The different 
 
 Montenebbi wrote very early in life, and his conceit at one time misled him 
 into aspiring after a new prophetship (whence his name the "Pretender to the 
 Prophets-hip"). He found himself, however, three centuries too late, and was 
 obliged to remain content a poet. And he nevertheless really was one in every 
 sense. 
 
26 
 
 collections therefore offer us multitudes of pieces of every de 
 scription and dimension, and from numberless authors, lays 
 of the chivalrous and amatory kind, poems relating to the sacred 
 wars, panegyrics and satires, pieces descriptive of nature or of 
 works of art, elegies and religious poems, drinking-songs, epi 
 grams, besides a variety of popular forms and miscellaneous 
 specimens that can not well be classified. We now propose to 
 pass the most important of these rubrics briefly in review. 
 
 The position of woman in the society of Moslem Spain seems 
 to have been a freer one than elsewhere among the Mohamme 
 dans, and she was permitted to be a sharer of the whole intel 
 lectual culture of her time. Hence we find quite a number of 
 those who either won distinction in the sciences or vied with the 
 men in the art of making poetry. This superiority of educa 
 tion gave rise to a degree and kind of respect such as tho East 
 scarcely knew, where the sentiment of love, for example, was 
 almost exclusively based on merely physical charms, and the 
 relation between the sexes thus became a much superior one. 
 Talent and knowledge were regarded as attractions in no 
 respect inferior to those of personal beauty, and it was not un- 
 frequently the case that a common taste for music or poetry con 
 stituted an intimatebond of union between two hearts. We need 
 not therefore be surprised, when in the amatory poetry of the 
 Spanish Arabs we occasionally meet with an intensity of feeling, 
 a mixture of impetuous passion and of tender melancholy, such as 
 our Middle Age scarcely can produce an instance of, ami which 
 is much closer allied to the sentimentality of modern times. 
 Nevertheless, however true all this may be, we will yet not 
 undertake to deny that much of the amatory poetry of thfe Moors 
 is pervaded by the voluptuous element to a much greater ex 
 tent than good taste is now willing to admit, and we shall 
 on that account not dwell on it. We will content ourselves 
 with a few specimens of the purer sort. 
 
 The following love-epistle addressed to his lady-love by 
 Prince Izzuddaula is destitute neither of ingenuity nor of deli 
 cacy of sentiment : 
 
 " In mourning and with longing sighs have I composed for thee this let 
 ter, my love ; and lia 1 my heart but courage, how fain would I myself be 
 come the bearer of my message." 
 
 "Imagine, in perusing now these lines, myself as coming from a distance, 
 and the black letters to be the pupils of my own dark eyes." 
 
 "Permit my kisses to be imprinted on the little note, the seal of which, O 
 dearest one on earth, is destined presently to be dissolved by thy white, 
 tender fingers." (Dozy s Recherches, p. 111.) 
 
27 
 
 / 
 
 The following ghasel from the pen of Crown-prince Ab 
 durrahman has reference to the idea of meeting in dreams, 
 quite frequently treated by the Moorish poets : 
 
 "Let her be greeted, who never deigned to requite me with a solitary 
 word ; who never to the wannest salutations of my heart sent me the least 
 consoling answer." 
 
 Let the gazelle be greeted, who thus reciprocates my inclination as 
 cruelly to transfix me with her looks, which wound like lightly feathered 
 arrows. 1 
 
 u Ah, she has never given me hope or balm to heal my aching sorrow, 
 has never to my slumbers sent her lovely image to encourage." (Von Schack, 
 vol. i., p. 120.) 
 
 To Said Ibn Djudi, a paet of the ninth century, we are in 
 debted for a few couplets which in delicacy of sentiment could 
 not be put below many of those of the troubadours or minne 
 singers of the twelfth and thirteenth : 
 
 " Since I have heard her voice, my soul has fled from me ; the enchanting * 
 sound has left me but regrets and sorrow." 
 
 " i think of her, and ever but of her, my dear Djehana; we never met, 
 my eyes beheld her never, and yet I made her a surrender of this heart." 
 
 u Her dearly cherished name, which I prize above all, I ll now invoke with 
 tear-dew in my eyes, as the monk calls on the image of his saint. 1 
 
 The pain of separation is thus celebrated in a few verses 
 from the pen of Abul Fadhl lyad : 
 
 "Since I beheld thee last, I ve been a bird with broken pinions. Ah, 
 could I but wing my way to thee beyond the sea; for our separation will be 
 the cause of death to me." (Dozy s Histoire, vol. ii., p. 228.) 
 
 Ibn HaTiem, one of the celebrated names of the eleventh 
 century, has left us not only a variety of couplets belonging to 
 this rubric, but also a most charming account of an early love, 
 evincing a delicacy and simplicity of feeling not unworthy of 
 the time of Boccaccio or Goethe. This Arabic novella, for which 
 we are sorry we have no room here, may be found in Dozy s 
 Histoire, vol. iii., p. 344, scq.,* and in Von Schack, vol. i., p. 
 108-114, 
 
 Abu Aamir was an Andalusian poet, and Hind a lady of 
 no less distinguished talent for poetry and music. Aamir had 
 collected a little party about him (doubtless in some enchant 
 ing spot, for he speaks of the notes of nightingales around him), 
 and there was nothing wanting to complete their satisfaction 
 but the presence and the lute of Hind. Aamir therefore sent her 
 
 The really classical love-story of theAnbs, howevjr, and one to winch the 
 poets frequently allude as familiar to every one, is the extremely touching and 
 idyllic history of Djemil and Botheini which originated in the desert, probably 
 during the first halt century of the Caliphate. It is repjrted by Ibn Challikan, 
 ed. de Slane, 109, and al?o by Von Schack, vol. i., p 37. 
 
23 
 
 a polite poetical epistle inviting her to come, and to assure her 
 of good company, promised her not only devout listening, but 
 also the absence of every drink but water. Hind replied on 
 the back of the letter, in the same measure and with the same 
 number of verses, expressing her readiness to be present at so 
 intellectual a reunion. 
 
 Almansur once sat in company with Vizier Abul Mogira in 
 the garden of his magnificent country palais Zahira, and while 
 both were taking their ease over their wine they all at once heard 
 a fair voice commencing the couplets of a plaintive amorous 
 ditty. Now it so happened that the voice was not unfamiliar 
 to either of them ; for Almansur recognized it as that of the 
 one he loved, while the vizier knew her to have a passion for 
 himself. Abul Mogira therefore could not help referring the 
 impassioned words of the fair singer to himself, and he was so 
 imprudent as to reply to her in a few equally enamored coup 
 lets of his own. Almansur was infuriated, and thundered out 
 the terrible inquiry : " Confess to me the truth, fair wretch ! 
 was the vizier here the object of thy song ?" The lady did not 
 hesitate to admit her predilection and appealed to his magna 
 nimity for pardon ; she did so in a new series of verses, which 
 she recited amid tears. Almansur now turned his anger 
 towards the vizier, and loaded him with reproaches. The lat 
 ter, however, although admitting his error, excused himself by 
 saying that he could not help it, each one being the slave of 
 his inevitable Fate, and his own in this instance happening to 
 have been that he should love one he was not permitted. Al 
 mansur remained silent for a while, but finally magnanimously 
 replied : " Very well ! then I must pardon both of you. Abul 
 Mogira, the lady belongs to you ; I surrender her to you." 
 
 Hafsa,one of the fair poetesses of Granada, celebrated alike 
 for her great beauty and her talent, had formed a sort of pla- 
 tonic liaison with the poet Djafer. But, unfortunately, the 
 governor of Granada had also an eye upon her, and had be 
 come so jealous as to seek to destroy his rival. She was there 
 fore obliged to use great caution, and when her friend once asked 
 her for an interview she hesitated two months with her answer. 
 Meanwhile Djafer, not knowing what to make of her long si 
 lence, wrote her a poetical epistle, siill extant and full of ten 
 der melancholy and despair. The letter, which the author sent 
 through his slave Assam, had no sooner reached, than the 
 lady at once replied in the same metre and in the same rhyme, 
 endeavoring to dispel his gloom and assuring him, that if he 
 knew the ground of her reticence, he would cease to accuse 
 
29 
 
 her. Hafsa gave her answer to the same slave that had 
 brought the letter, but in dismissing him she artfully treated 
 him so roughly, heaping reproaches upon him and his master 
 both, that the poor messenger on his return bitterly complained 
 of rudeness. The poet, however, on opening the epistle, found 
 just the contrary, not only ample apology, but even the ap 
 pointment of a rendezvous in his garden, and on that account 
 pronounced his slave insensate. Presently the two really met 
 in Djafer s garden, and when the latter was about to make re 
 proaches, Hafsa hushed him by improvising: "Enough, that 
 we are here together, and silent as in days gone by." (El 
 Makkari, ed. Gayangos, vol. ii., p. 540.) 
 
 Abu Amr of Malaga, once happening upon a promenade 
 about the precincts of his native city to meet Abdul Wahab, a 
 great amateur of poetry, was asked by the latter to repeat 
 for him some verses. He recited as follows : 
 
 " She hay deprived Aurora of her blooming cheeks; she has received her 
 slender form in feoff from Irak s fair-proportioned stems. 
 
 " She threw away her jewels to choose for her a better ornament, and put 
 the stars about her neck, like strings of pearls, all bright and luminous." 
 
 " And not content with the light, graceful shape of the gazelle, she robbed 
 the little animal of the sweet brightness of its eye besides." 
 
 Abdul Wahab had no sooner heard these verses than he burst 
 out into an exclamation of admiration and fell to the ground 
 like one in a swoon. On recovering, he said : " Pardon me, 
 my friend ! There are two things, which always put me beside 
 myself, so that I no longer remain master of my senses. They 
 are, the aspect of a fair countenance and the voice of genuine 
 poetry." (El Makkari, ed. Gayangos, vol. ii., p. 274, and Von 
 Schack, vol. i., p. 240.) 
 
 In connection with this branch of Arabic poetry, we must 
 not omit the names of Ibn Zeidun, one of the most eminent 
 Andalusi an poets, born about 1003, and of his Wallada, the 
 fair and highly accomplished princess loved by him and cele 
 brated in his verses. Ibn Zeidun s great talents had quite 
 early in life elevated him to a very high position at the court of 
 Ibn Djahwar, who after the downfall of the caliphate was for 
 some time in power at Cordova. The poet enjoyed the most 
 intimate confidence of his master for a great while and was 
 honored with several missions to some of the smaller courts of 
 Andalus. But he had also jealous rivals, and their machina 
 tions after a while succeeded in effecting his disgrace. The 
 cause of this misfortune is supposed to have been his relations 
 with Princess Wallada, who, as an enthusiast for poetry and 
 
30 
 
 herself a clever writer of verses, had great respect for our poet 
 and openly preferred him to all the rest of her admirers. To 
 one of these her conduct gave so much offense, that he medi 
 tated revenge and resorted to calumnies, for which after awhile 
 he gained admittance to the ear of the commander. The con 
 sequence was, that our late influential favorite was thrown into 
 a dungeon, and there remained confined, in vain attempting 
 through the mediation of a friend to recover the favor of his 
 angry patron. Yet he succeeded, after some efforts, in making 
 his escape from prison, and after having kept himself concealed 
 at Cordova for a while, he finally fled to the western part of 
 Andalusia. But the pain of separation from his Wallada and 
 the desire of living somewhere in her proximity did not suffer 
 him long to remain so far away, and he therefore soon returned 
 to Az-Zahra, one of the half-ruined palaces of the Ommaiades 
 near Cordova, where he entertained some hope of at least occa 
 sionally meeting with the madonna of his heart. He next led 
 a sort of erratic life, travelling at random through the different 
 provinces of Spain, until he at last settled permanently at Sev 
 ille, where El Motadid received the weary wanderer with cor 
 diality and honored him with princely confidence until the year 
 of his death, in 1071. 
 
 The Arabic anthologists are all of them extremely prodigal 
 of their hyperbolies in praise of Ibn Zeiuun s charming ghasels, 
 which they maintain possessed of a power such as no magic 
 ever owned, and of a sublimity with which the stars could 
 never vie. And we must recollect that most of this poetry, 
 which was composed at different times and from different places, 
 had reference to his relations with Wallada, whom, as long as 
 he lived, he continued to celebrate with the profound devotion 
 of our modern Petrarch, and with the restlessness of Childe 
 Harold. We have thus another instance of a closer approxi 
 mation to modern times than to the Christian poetry of the 
 Middle Age, and we have only to regret that our limits will not 
 allow us to produce in evidence some specimens (Von Schack 
 vol. i., p. 300-314). 
 
 * One of the most prolific and attracth 7 e themes of the poets 
 of the West was the sacred wars of the Peninsula, in which the 
 Moors were perpetually engaged, and in which they evinced 
 scarcely any less ardor and self-sacrificing devotion than the 
 Christians. These wars lasted for more than seven centuries 
 with alternating success, which, however, at first, before and 
 during the caliphate, was generally on the side of the Moslems, 
 
31 
 
 while after the fall of the Ommaiades the Christians gradually 
 and steadily won more and more of the ascendant. But such was 
 the pertinacity of Islam, that its existence on the soil of Spain 
 was no sooner periled than new hordes of fanatical, barbarians 
 cr-me streaming to its succor from Africa, and the contest be 
 came only so much the more fierce and destructive. There is 
 thus scarcely a foot of ground on the Peninsula that was not 
 moistened with the blood of the crusaders of both parties, and 
 the number of those who fell in terrible battles like those of 
 Zalaca, Alarcos, las Navas de Tolosa and others, amounted to 
 hundreds of thousands, all of them firmly persuaded, on the one 
 hand, of earning heaven with their devotion to the cross, 
 and on the other of meriting Mohammed s Paradise as 
 martyrs. The war, although originally one of conquest, yet 
 after a while became a purely religious one on both sides, and 
 on that account offers us a variety of curious points of contrast 
 and resemblance. While the Christians scarcely ever prepared 
 for a decisive engagement without on the eve of it celebrating 
 the mysteries of the passion and partaking of the sacrament, 
 the Mohammedans would on their part under the same circum 
 stances spend entire nights in prayer and go on long pilgrim 
 ages to Mecca, to sue for the privilege of dying for their faith 
 the death of martyrs. It was one of their traditions, that every 
 one wounded in one of these battles would on the day of judg 
 ment appear with his wound bleeding; but this blood would 
 be real blood only in color, and would exude a fragrance simi 
 lar to musk. Nor was there any want of miracles on these 
 occasions. On the eve of the battle of Alarcos, Abu Yussuf, 
 after having spent the night on his knees, saw in his morning- 
 dream a knight mounted on a snow-white charger descending 
 from the sky with an immense green banner in his hand, who 
 presently announced himself as an angel from the seventh 
 heaven, coming from Allah to bring his faithful warriors victory. 
 On the part of the Christians, it was Saint lago, on whose pa 
 tronage they mainly relied, and he was in more than one emer 
 gency more terrible than thunder and lightning to the Moors, 
 who fled in terror and confusion whenever he was at hand. 
 
 Let us now see what the poets have to say about these wars, 
 in which they themselves acted no inconsiderable part; and 
 with what accents they at one time seek to enlist for the stand 
 ard of the Prophet, and at another either celebrate a victory or 
 give vent to lamentations over a defeat. 
 
 The following may serve as a specimen of the Arabic prczicama 
 or poetical exhortation to the sacred war, in which we will not 
 
32 
 
 fail to perceive at least as much earnestness and unction as in 
 most of those of the Provencals. The author of it is Abu 
 Omar, the secretary of Ibn ul Ahmar, king of Granada, at 
 whose request it was composed and read to Sultan Abu Yussuf, 
 to inspire the latter with new zeal for the war against the ene 
 mies of the faith. Its date is 1275, and we may add, that at 
 that time the greater part of the Peninsula had already been 
 subjected by the Christians. 
 
 "Here lies the path of safety. Is there one, be it in Spain, or be it in 
 Africa, willing to enter it? who dreads Gehenna s flames, the torments of the 
 damned, and longs for the eternal bliss of Paradise, where cooling shades and 
 fountains are reserved for him ? Thou, who art eager for victory in this our 
 struggle for the faith, obey the impulse of thy heart! Go, armed with hope 
 and confidence to meet salvation: and since thy cause is noble, there will 
 be success. . . . Delay not ; for who can assure thee of thy life to-morrow ? The 
 time of death is never known to us; but rest assured, thou never shalt es 
 cape the payment of the debt from which no mortals are exempt. If not to 
 day, thou yet must soon expect to leave thy place. The journey before thee is 
 difficult, and one from which there can be no return. Be up then, and to ease 
 the hardship of the road, supply thyself with an abundance of good works! 
 And recollect, the first and most important of pious works is this our sacred 
 war for the maintainance of our faith. Improve then the precious opportu 
 nity, and move at once to combat on the soil of Andalus. For God loves and 
 rewards the one who dedicates himself to such a fight." . . . 
 
 * Who follows the example of the Prophet ? . . . Who s ready now to 
 flee to God, and by combating for him to purge his soul of the contamination 
 of his sins? Can ye take pleasure in the cities of the enemy, which do not 
 pray to Allah? Will ye endure it, to be derided by the believers in three 
 gods, who hate us for firmly adhering to but one ? What have we not 
 already suffered from the rabble ! How many mosques of our land have 
 been converted into churches! 0, the disgrace! Do ye not die from 
 the chagrin, when ye are witnesses to it! The bell hangs now on our 
 minaret; the priest is seen standing on its roof, and wine flows in the 
 house of Allah, alas! nor is the voice of the believer any longer heard in it. 
 . . . How many men of our nation, how many women, are languishing in 
 chains among them, longing in vain for ransom from their dark dungeons ! 
 How many maidens, who in their distress can see no savior but their death, 
 are mourning desolate in Christian cities! How many children, whose 
 parents weep for having given life to little ones to be tormented ! . . . How 
 many martyrs, laid low by the sword, have not, as corpses of wounds without 
 number, covered the battle-grounds! The angels of heaven will on beholding 
 it drop tears of sorrow, nor can men whose heart is not of rock, be witnesses 
 to all this misery without compassion. . . . Do ye not recollect our old al 
 liance, our consanguinity ! . . . And were the Christians ever too indolent to 
 unsheath their swords, when vengeance called for it? Alas! the pride of 
 Islam is extinct, that pride, which once so nobly glowed. Why do ye hes 
 itate thus in despair ? Do ye expect a sword to wound, unless ye draw it?" 
 
 " You are our neighbors, ye Merinides ; let therefore now your succor be 
 the first ! The war for our common faith is your first, highest and most sa 
 cred duty. Neglect it not ! And choose one of the two, the glory of victory 
 or martyrdom Then will the Lord vouchsafe you rich reward, and fairest 
 maidens will receive you in his heaven. The black-eyed hurts of his Para 
 dise above are even now ready to bid you welcome ! Who then will offer 
 
33 
 
 himself now as. Allah s combatant ? Who ll purchase of him heaven s eternal 
 boon? Allah has pledged protection to the faith, and never has his word 
 been broken. ... Ye are God s host, strong enough, if ye but will it, to sub 
 due the world ; and for the true religion can ye now but sigh and silently 
 lament instead of acting? How could ye dare to appear before the Prophet, 
 if he were to invite you now? Have ye excuses, were he to say to you: 
 4 Why did ye not succor my people in distress, when it was so maltreated by 
 the enemy? Could ye escape the punishment, were ye with shame to 
 hear this from his lips ? Beseech him therefore to remain your mediator on 
 the dread day of judgment, and fight now valiantly for his faith ! Then he ll 
 conduct you, brethren, safely to the pure limpid fountains of his Paradise." 
 (Ibn Chaldun, vol. ii., p. 288 ; Von Schack, vol. i., p. 155.) 
 
 Another, and in many respects even a more eloquent and 
 elevated kassida of the sort was composed by Ibn ul Abbar, 
 wbo, wben in 1238 Valencia was sorely distressed by the Chris 
 tians, was commissioned by the alcayde of the city to go to 
 Africa to the court of Abu Zekeria, one of the most powerful 
 of its princes, to solicit his assistance. Our poet-ambassador 
 had no sooner arrived than he recited his kassida in the presence 
 of the entire court, on which, we are told, it produced so deep an 
 impression that the prince at once conceded the] desired succor 
 by sending a well-armed fleet to operate upon the Spanish 
 coast. 
 
 Nor is there any lack of kassjdas commemorating the victo 
 ries achieved by the Moslem arms of Spain and the glory of the 
 chiefs that conducted them. When Abu Yussuf, for example, 
 directly after the battle of Ecija, was entering Algesiras, he 
 received from the prince of Malaga a poetical address congrat 
 ulating him upon his victory. We have here room only for a 
 few passages from it : 
 
 "The four winds have already brought us tidings of thy victories, and 
 the stars, as they rise in the East, have been the messengers of thy success. 
 The space was narrow for all the angelic host which brought thee help, O 
 chief, and the wide battle-field did not contain them, while from the circling 
 spheres above the song resounded: The Lord shall be thy succor in all 
 thy plans. The life, which each of us would gladly purchase with his own, 
 thou hast thyself devoted to the service of the Highest, the Eternal One ! 
 Thou tookst the field for His religion, protecting it, relying on the prowess 
 of thy unbending miad, as on a sword ; gloriously was then thy undertaking 
 crowned by thy successful army, and thou hast now achieved a work which 
 never shall be dissipated into naught. . . . How majestic is thy army, 
 O prince, when in the roaring din of battle the swarm of eager chargers 
 surges onward, and the lances break and whistle all around! Thou art 
 God s legate, leading his sacred cause, and his protecting eye is therefore 
 ever upon thee; may it never fail watching! Thou hast adorned the faith 
 with new, unfading splendor, and time will not bo able to rob thee of the 
 honor of such lofty deeds! . . . May He, whose faith thy sword 
 defended, in his benignity now shield thee against every hp-m, and may he 
 so abundantly upon thy head his blessings shower, that their fragrance may 
 endure as long as time shall last." (Von Schack, vol. i., p. 153.) 
 3 
 
34 
 
 The laments over the reverses of Islam are no less eloquent, 
 and sometimes extremely delicate and pathetic. Such are, for 
 example, those relating to the loss of cities, like Valencia, Seville, 
 and others, for a specimen of which we refer the reader to 
 FauriePs History of Provencal Poetry (English translation), 
 page 454, and to the "Journal Asiatique," vol. iv. of the First 
 Series. 
 
 While the Spanish Moslems were thus celebrating their 
 heroic exploits with all the studied rhetoric and gorgeous 
 imagery of the Orientals, the rest of Europe was scarcely beyond 
 the crudest beginnings of poetry, with the single exception of 
 the Provencals, who at an early date commenced to rival their 
 antagonists in spirited compositions relating to the sacred war* 
 The Castillian was not sufficiently advanced for any such pur 
 pose, and its earliest crude tentatives, the ballads on the Cid do, 
 not date farther back than the twelfth century, and could in 
 point of art not be approached to the elaborate finish of the 
 Arabs. In speaking here of the renowned champion of the 
 Spanish romanzas, we cannot refrain from noticing in a few 
 words the great contrast between the Arabic and Christian 
 accounts of him. While among the latter Cid Ruy Diaz el 
 Campeador (as his full name reads), is invariably represented as 
 the model of every chivalric virtue, kind, affable, honorable, and 
 always loyal even toward his unjust king, the Arabs give him 
 the character of a perfidious and cruel barbarian, who fought 
 neither for his king nor his faith, but in the service of some of 
 he small Mohammedan princes. In this light he appears more 
 especially in connection with the siege of Valencia, which he 
 conducted, and where, after its surrender, he perpetrated the 
 most atrocious barbarities, condemning the alcayde to the stake, 
 and menacing his wife and daughters with the same. " This 
 terrible calamity," says the account, " filled all classes of society 
 with pain and shame. Nevertheless the power of the tyrant 
 kept constantly increasing and rested heavily on hill and dale, 
 inspiring all the inhabitants of the Peninsula with dread. . . . 
 And yet this man, who was the scourge of his time, was, in 
 respect to ambition, sagacity, and firmness of character, one of 
 the miracles of God. He died shortly after at Valencia a natu 
 ral death." (Dozy s Recherches, and Von Schack, vol. i. 
 p. 161-171.) 
 
 >S 
 
 We have already more than once alluded to the encomi 
 astic poetry of the Arabs, which they were so often called 
 upon to write in honor of their princes, and of which in the 
 
35 
 
 course of centuries there must have been an enormous num 
 ber of pieces. We have now a word or two to add upon 
 this point* It is a singular fact that in these compositions 
 the poets of every period of their history adhere much more 
 closely to the classical models of the Muallakat than in any 
 other, and that on that account the reminiscences of the old 
 poetry are made to occupy so conspicuous a place as some 
 times to be entirely out of proportion with the object pro 
 posed. Descriptions of nomadic life, idyllic love-scenes, or 
 amorous laments are therefore scarcely ever wanting, and 
 it sometimes seems as if the poets of Andalusia s luxurious 
 courts and enchanting landscapes were nevertheless longing for 
 the old desert as for a better home. The princes themselves 
 are not unfrequently addressed as if they were nomadic chiefs, 
 and the poet likewise speaks of himself as of an Arab of the olden 
 time. These preliminary amplifications often occupy so much 
 of the kassida as to leave but a subordinate place for the enco 
 mium proper, which generally comes in at the end. In the 
 panegyric portion, in which the poet seeks to celebrate the 
 valor, the liberality and princely splendor of his patron, his 
 naturally incurs the danger of becoming artificial, extravagant, 
 or even bombastic; but although this is really the case with 
 many, we are perhaps no less often surprised with an energy of 
 expression and a boldness of imagery which we must recognise 
 as classical. Let the following verses, addressed by Abdrebbihi 
 to AbdurrahrnanllL prior to his assuming the title of caliph, 
 serve as an example : 
 
 " The Lord in. his benignity has opened widely now the way to Islam, 
 and men are pressing, crowd upon crowd, on towards the road of mercy. On 
 their behalf the Earth adorns herself for fairer habitation, and shines 
 resplendent as if arrayed in silk. The cloud, O caliph-son, would cease to 
 rain,. were it to witness the kindly munificence, with which thou know st to 
 bless; and were the war to see thee leading thy hosts to battle, it would des 
 pair of stirring equal courage in others breast. Before thee heresy falls pros 
 trate and suppliant upon the ground; and since thou rulest, the horses willingly 
 obey thy reins. The victory, O prince, is tied indissolubly to thy standards, 
 when or by niglit or noonday they float before thee in the breeze of 
 thy career; and thy refusal will rouse the caliphate to anger, if thou, the 
 scion of the illustrious line, dost not thyself put on thy head the crown of 
 the great Emir of the Faithful." (Von Scliack, vol. i., p. 200.) 
 
 To this specimen we may be permitted co add another, ad 
 dressed by Ibn Hani to some other prince. It is, however, 
 much more hyperbolical : 
 
 "Before thy horses, when they storm onward to the assault, there are no 
 iiUls, no mountains, however lofty they may tower up. They re known by 
 being always foremost in the race, but no eye ever can pursue them, as they 
 
36 
 
 advance. The lightning knows of them, that they ride on its wings, and that 
 in swiftness they excel even thought. The clouds, which towards the north 
 pour down their fullest streams, are vanquished into shame hefore thy mag 
 nanimity s abundant showers. Thy right hand seems to touch and guide the 
 very stars of beaven, as they emerge from lowering clouds of rain." (Ibn 
 Challikan, ed. <le Slanc.) 
 
 One of the most distinguished poetical representatives of Gra 
 nada was Ibn ul Chatib, from whose pen we have an entire 
 divan of verses left us. Pie was prime minister and vizier to 
 both Abul Hadjadj and his son Mahommed V., several times 
 ambassador, and upon Mohammed s dethronement his compan 
 ion and eloquent advocate at the court of Fez. To this court 
 he had some time before been sent on a mission, to implore, in 
 behalf of his master, Sultan Abu-Inan, for aid against the Chris 
 tians, and this aid he obtained together with many compliments 
 and presents by the recital of a poetical address, of which the 
 following is the purport : 
 
 "Legate of Allah! may thy renown augment and exalt itself, as long a* 
 the moon s placid rays dispel night s darkness, and may the Supreme Rnler 
 of our fate in his benignity ever defend thee, when dangers lower against 
 which human power proves unavailing. Thy countenance dispels the mid 
 night gloom, which sorrow casts around us, and thy hand showers refresh 
 ment on him who languishes distressed! Long since would our people have 
 been expelled from Andalusia s lovely plains, hadst thou not with thy hosfe 
 dispensed abundant succor. But one thing now is needful for our Spain, 
 potent commander, butthisone, that thou shouldst send withoutdelay thy 
 army to our strand, to save us and to avert the threatening cloud." (Ibn 
 Chaldun, Histoire des Berberes, vol. ii., and Von Schack, vol. i., p. 335.) 
 
 The satire was scarcely any less zealously cultivated by the 
 Arabs of Spain than the panegyric, and their kassidas of this 
 category are often so elaborately constructed as to be a running 
 parody on the eulogistic. Their satire, however, is rarely objec 
 tive, that is to say, levelling at the vices or foibles of men in 
 general, but almost invariably personal and determined by spe 
 cial situations or events. The weapon was, therefore, a gene 
 rally dreaded one, and yet it is remarkable to observe, how often 
 and with what degree of license the poets made use of it, not 
 only against each other or their equals, hut even against the 
 mightiest of those in power. We thus find Hisham s impotent 
 administration sorely castigated, in spite of the terror of its 
 dreaded regent Almansur, and El Motadid of Seville is ruth 
 lessly caricatured by Ibn Ammar in a long kassida in the shape 
 of a regular parody on the encomiastic. In a shorter piece, 
 directed against a member of his own craft, Ibn Ocht Ganim 
 advises him " not to be so impudent as to sip of the drink of 
 which he is not w 7 orthy, and not to soil the noble art of poetry 
 
37 
 
 with kisses from his lips." From this we must not imagine, 
 however, that the poet was always safe in the employment of so 
 perilous a weapon. Ibn Ammar wassubsequently cruelly assas 
 sinated, although for another much graver offense, by El Mota- 
 did s son, while Abul Makshi, as we shall presently see, lost 
 both his eyes on account of some offensive allusions to a prince 
 of the time of Abdurrahman I. 
 
 That the charming sky and the enchanting landscapes of * 
 Andalusia did not fail to produce their effect on the imagina 
 tion of the Moorish poets is manifest from a great diversity of 
 pieces descriptive partly of scenes and other objects of nature, 
 partly of some of its numberless works of human art. Andalusia 
 itself is sung in terms of the most glowing eulogy, and lauded 
 as the terrestrial representative of Paradise. We meet with 
 verses on the rivers, the Guadalquivir and the Guadix, on the 
 rock of Gibraltar, on moonlit evenings amid fairy gardens or 
 ruined palaces, on the orange-groves of Seville, on flowers, 
 stars, landscapes and fountains, in short, on every thing which 
 the poet s fancy could invest with interest or life. Boating- 
 excursions on the rivers, especially of a calm clear night, are 
 frequently dwelt upon with manifest delight. There is scarcely 
 n variety of flowers, on which there are not some ingenious 
 verses, especially on the violet, which to the Andalusian was 
 the harbinger of an eternal spring. If the object described 
 happened to be a work of art, such as a palace, the verses, if 
 they were especially approved, were inscribed in letters of gold 
 upon the walls of the monument thus celebrated, as we may at 
 this day yet see them in some of the villas of Sicily or in the 
 halls of the Alhambra. 
 
 In spite of the prohibitions of their religion, the Moslems of 
 Spain seem nevertheless to have been any thing but abstinent 
 of wine, and, if we may credit the poets, to have passed the 
 cup freely at every hour of the day, sometimes even early in 
 the morning. But their drinking seems to have been rarely 
 solitary or intemperate ; it was rather convivial and linked to 
 social merriment, to poetry and music. This is evident from 
 their many drinking-songs, some of which are extremely 
 spirited and lively, and not unfrequently a jovial defiance of the 
 law. ThusElMotadid proposesanew commandment, enjoining 
 on all true believers to drink early in the morning, instead 
 of listening to the muezzin, and Ibn Hazmun somewhat waggish- 
 
38 
 
 ly derides the anchorites and dervishes on account of their 
 hypocrisy in this respect. 
 
 "The use of wine is in itself no crime ; the crime is but the terror of the 
 law, or else even our dervishes would dare to moist en their dry palates 
 with the cup." 
 
 u When during the night they ve muttered prayers until their throats 
 are hoarse and sore ; say, do they not themselves then reel like wanton 
 camels o er the sand?" 
 
 "My house is therefore like their cells; yet maidens, slender as 
 gazelles, are my muezzins, and I use cups to light it, instead of Jaraps. 7 
 (Von Schack, vol. i., p. 218.) 
 
 That the Moorish poets, however, gay, light and fanciful as they 
 naturally were, could yet also be of a much graver tone of mind 
 is evidenced by a multitude of elegies and pieces of a religious- 
 turn, of which not a few must be ranked among their most 
 finished and successful compositions. From some of them we 
 have poetical prayers, which often evince no little earnestness 
 and depth of feeling combined with great beauty of execution j 
 from others religious couplets of a different sort, as for example, 
 verses which the poet would write before his death with the 
 request of having them inscribed upon his tomb ; and of these 
 pieces some are considerably longer and more elaborate than 
 the mere epigram. Keflections upon the instability of human 
 life, repentance over past offenses, and hope in a divine mercy 
 most generally constitute the simple circle of ideas within 
 which they moved. That many of these compositions must 
 have been highly prized and even used as prayers is evident 
 from As-Suhaili s assertion in reference to one composed by 
 himself, of which he says every one that had made use of it 
 to ask God for some favor had met with the fulfilment of his 
 wishes. We have room here for a few of the concluding 
 verses : 
 
 " I have no other refuge but that of knocking at thy door ; and if thou 
 openest not, then I stand powerless and hopeless in my woe. O Lord y 
 whose name I praise now and invoke in prayer, if thou dost not vouch- 
 &afe to grant thy servant what he sues for now, do not on that account 
 plunge the poor sinner into complete despair; for boundless is thy benignity 
 a,nd infinite thy mercy/ (Ibn Ohallikan, art. As-Suhaili.) 
 
 V In the department of the elegy we might produce a host of 
 specimens, had we space for them ; but we must be contented 
 with a few. A very beautiful one of upward of fifty verses 
 adorns, in the shape of an epitaph, the tombstone of Abdul 
 Hadjadj Yussuf, one of the kings of Granada, who fell by the 
 hand of an assassin while in the act of prayer at the mosque. 
 
39 
 
 It is quite symmetrical in its composition and commemorates 
 in many a pathetic distich the nobility, the virtues, the valor 
 and achievements of the deceased, and his untimely fate. A 
 few verses of it may suffice : 
 
 " In the flower of his manhood and at the zenith of his power he was made 
 to fall, like Omar, hy the decrees of Heaven. There is no blade, no lance, on 
 which we can depend as a protection, against the will of Allah, and every 
 one who builds upon the fleeting vanities of earth, will, undeceived, at last 
 perceive that he has built on sand. Therefore, O Ruler of the kingdom 
 which has no end ; Thou, who coramandest every one of us and predeter- 
 ininest his lot, vouchsafe to spread the veil of thy benignity over all our 
 faults ! For, without thy compassion we all would have to tremble before 
 our guilt. And lead the Emir of the Faithful, enveloped by the robe of thy 
 boundless mercy, into the mansions of eternal bliss. True happiness and life 
 that never ends can only be found with thee, O Allah ! The world is but 
 an evanescent show, which, as it- deceives, destroys itself." (Von Schack, 
 vol. i. p. 213.) 
 
 An elegy on his own blindness was composed by the unfor 
 tunate Abul Makshi, who lived afc the time of Abdurrahman I., 
 and was most cruelly deprived of his eyes at the command of 
 Prince Suleiman for having in some verses addressed to him allow 
 ed himself some offensive allusions to his brother Hisham. On 
 having finished his piece, the poet obtained admission to the 
 caliph and recited his verses, by which, we are told, Abdurrah 
 man was moved to tears, and gave him two thousand dinars, 
 one thousand for each eye, a compensation, to which Hisham 
 himself after his accession was so compassionate as t} add an 
 equal amount (Journal Asiatique, 1856, No. II., p. 476). Among 
 the Moors themselves, the elegy composed by Ibn Abdun on 
 the fall of the dynasty of Badajoz was one of the most highly 
 prized, but it is too elaborate and artificial to be equally to 
 our taste. Among those which are really pathetic and sublime 
 we may again mention that on the decline of Islam in Spain 
 already spoken of on page 34. It is from the pen of Abul 
 Beka Salih, and was occasioned by the taking of Cordova and 
 Seville by Ferdinand the Catholic. 
 
 Among all the compositions of this class, however, there is 
 perhaps nothing more beautiful and touching than the elegies 
 written during his imprisonment by El Motamid, the unfortu 
 nate emir of Seville, and we can therefore scarcely refrain from 
 reproducing a specimen or two from them. But we have in 
 the first place to premise a word concerning the most romantic 
 life and adventures of this prince. 
 
 El Motamid was a member of the glorious dynasty of the 
 Abbadides, which for a long time elevated Seville into rivalry 
 
40 
 
 with the Cordova of the caliphate, and which in every respect 
 was one of the most brilliant centres of Moslem civilization in 
 the West. He was the son of El Motadid, who commenced to 
 rule in 1043, a cruel and most treacherous sybarite, but never 
 theless a great amateur of poetry and himself a writer of verses. 
 In early youth El Motamid was fonder of his enjoyments than 
 of his arms, and a culpable defeat before Malaga, where he had 
 been sent to fight, incensed the father so much, that the young 
 prince had no little difficulty in escaping from his punishment 
 tv Silves, where he then lived for some years in exile, until he 
 finally appeased the wrath of the offended parent by addressing 
 to him a number of poetical epistles. He had, however, on 
 sooner succeeded to the throne, in 1069, than he not only at 
 once evinced a much nobler temper and a far greater poetical 
 talent than his father, but he also presently proved himself 
 much more of a warrior by the conquest of Cordova, which he 
 then added to his kingdom. 
 
 The first period of El Motamid s reign was one of the sun 
 niest prosperity, and he was so brilliantly surrounded by every 
 thing in the shape of material and intellectual refinement, that 
 the historians of the West have almost as many anecdotes 
 to relate of it as those of the East have left us concerning the 
 life of Harun ar Rashid. 
 
 u El Motamid," says Ibn Challikan, " was the most generous, 
 hospitable, magnanimous and powerful of all the princes of 
 Spain, and his court the most popular place of repose for trav 
 ellers and the resort of talent of every kind; in a word, the 
 point upon which the hopes of all were centred, so that no 
 court of any other ruler of that time could boast of being 
 frequented by an equal number of poets and men of learning. " 
 And in all this El Motamid was far from being a mere Maecenas 
 or an idle spectator ; his intellect was as alive and active as 
 any. It was during these halcyon days of his existence that 
 he improvised a series of poetical effusions, which in point of 
 natural ease and graceful elegance are not inferior to any of 
 his time, and of which his biographers have left us a minute 
 account. All of these pieces originated at some one of his favorite 
 places of resort, palaces in the city or on the river, such as 
 El Mubarak, El Mukarram, Az-Zoraya, Az-Zahi and several 
 others. 
 
 The first shadow cast upon this Eldorado life of El Motamid 
 was the tragical death of his son Abbad, whom he had ap 
 pointed governor of Cordova, but only, it would seem, to lose 
 .kirn in an insurrection led by Ibn Okasha, a native of the city. 
 
41 
 
 The father was frantic and ordered the rebel to be nailed to the 
 cross (a punishment which some time before he had attempted 
 to inflict on a thief), suspecting but little how many additional 
 calamities he had yet before him, to which the present was 
 but the ominous prelude. About that time the cause of the 
 Christians had been making new advances, and Alphonso VL 
 of Castile had succeeded in making all the Mohammedan 
 princes tributary to his power, El Motamid included. But 
 not content with the payment of tribute, Alphonso after a 
 while sent an embassy to Seville demanding of its king a sur 
 render of his fortresses. This was too much for our El Motamid, 
 who in his indignation beat the ambassador and ordered his 
 companions executed. The outrage naturally gave rise to new 
 preparations for war, and the siege of Seville was contem 
 plated. In this emergency the Moslem sheikhs, afraid of com 
 bating Alphonso s force alone, concluded to apply for aid to 
 Yussuf Ibn Tashfin, the king of Morocco, and in 1086 El Mo 
 tamid himself went over, to be surer of success. Yussuf 
 agreed, and at ohce collected a large force of cavalry and foot, 
 with which he shortly after won for his confederates a most 
 brilliant victory in the bloody battle of Zalaka (1085), from 
 which Alphonso had a narrow escape. But Yussuf was as 
 treacherous as he was cruel and fanatical (he had sent the 
 heads of tens of thousands of slain Christians to the different 
 cities of Spain and Africa), and returned to Africa only to plot 
 treason against his allies on the other side. After a series of 
 preliminary manoeuvres, in which he yet pretended to be El 
 Jlotamid s friend, he finally threw off the mask completely, and 
 after the capture of fort Tarifa commanded himself proclaimed 
 master of Andalusia in 1090. He next took Cordova, in the 
 defense of which Mamun, one of El Motamid s sons, lost his 
 life, and then Seville, which its king defended only with the 
 loss of an additional son, and where he presently had to wit 
 ness all his palaces devastated by the fanatically barbarous 
 enemy. El Motamid himself was taken prisoner with his entire 
 family and sent in chains to Africa, where he was doomed to 
 spend the remainder of his days in a dungeon at Agmat, a city 
 some distance southeast of Morocco. In this condition he re 
 mained until he was released by death in 1095. One of his 
 daughters was subsequently sold into slavery at Seville and one 
 of his grandsons became a jeweller somewhere else in Spain. 
 
 The keen reverses of fortune experienced by El Motamid 
 did not fail to produce a profound impression on his mind, and 
 he almost sunk beneath the weight of his afflictions. Yet he 
 
42 
 
 endeavored to console himself, like a man of intellect and heart,, 
 by giving vent to his grief in a series of poetical effusions which 
 we have already characterized as elegies, and which are yet 
 esteemed as among the most perfect of his nation s literature. 
 They generally link themselves either to some reminiscence of 
 his former life or to some incident of his imprisonment, of which 
 his biographers offer us a minute account. A flock of wild 
 pigeons, for example, passing by the window of his dungeon, 
 gave rise to the following reflections : 
 
 " As in my sorrow I witnessed the pigeons flying by my prison, I thought, 
 while tears descended from my cheeks : ah, they are not in chains, are not 
 incarcerated, like myself! And, by the eternal hoavens! I thought not so 
 from envy, no, only from the desire of being free and happy like them 
 selves, able to move about wherever I might wish ; that heaven might 
 grant me the boon of happier fortune like their own, and I not here in soli 
 tude might be obliged to languish in my chains, heart-broken and deserted. 
 Alas! these pigeons, who know no sorrow and whom no distance separates 
 from their kind, they do not, like myself, pass dreary nights in terror, nor 
 is their mind disturbed with apprehensions, like my own, when the gaolers 
 approach my door and move the clattering bolt. Thus Fate has from 
 eternity decreed it over me, that I should end in prison, deprived of all the 
 dignity and splendor of my reign 1 Let whoever may, love life, loaded by 
 the weight of chains! As for myself, 1 can do nothing in my distress but 
 long most ardently for my deliverer in death. But as for you, dear pigeons, 
 may God protect you, and may no falcon rob you of your young, as they ve 
 robbed me, whose anguish ever bleeds anew, when I reflect how ruthlessly 
 iny dear ones have been torn from me." 
 
 On hearing one day, that one of his sons had headed a re 
 volt in Andalusia against the robber on his father s throne, he 
 improvised the following : 
 
 "And must my sword-blade thus grow old without a blow, although I 
 daily brandish it, eager for combat ? And must my lance thus rust in indo 
 lent repose, instead of tasting red blood from the enemy, and thirst in vain 
 after its wonted drink ? And shall the charger of the unhappy prince never 
 again foam underneath its rider? No! it never will again obey my reins to 
 hurry me onward ; for it has shuddering scent of enemies lurking concealed 
 in ambush. But, if none have pity on the sword, to satisfy its languid crav 
 ings for its drink; if it be fated that my polished lance-point shall grow 
 diseased from shame, unable to endure its disgrace, then mayst thou, 
 Mother Earth, at any rate soon have compassion on thy poor sorrow-stricken 
 son ! Vouchsafe thy child a little place upon thy bosom, and let him in 
 the grave find ample repose 1" 
 
 In one of these elegies, El Motamid contrasts the clinking of 
 his chains with the music of the fair singers by which he once 
 was surrounded. In another he laments over the Iocs of a 
 cherished son, and over the wretched aspect of his daughters, 
 whom he perceives disfigured by hunger and in rags, obliged to 
 earn their livelihood by spinning at Agmat one even at the 
 
43 
 
 house of some one formerly in her father s service. But on 
 these couplets we have no room here to dwell. We will con 
 tent ourselves with a few more passages from his lines to Az- 
 Zahi, the superb and beautifully located palace on the Guadal 
 quivir, where he had spent many a delightful hour : 
 
 * O er me, the prisoner on Maghrib s strand, the orphaned throne of my 
 dear country weeps; so do the pulpits of the mosques in Spain weep over my 
 calamity. The sword and lance, which once I brandished high, are now 
 draped in deep mourning o er their loss, and Fortune, which on others smiles, 
 has tied from me. . . . O, were I, free from chains, once more permitted to 
 see my home and its familiar retreats ! O, could I pass again, as formerly, 
 my nights along the rapid Guadalquivir, reposing in the olive4hicket near 
 the pond, while round me the soft evening-breezes dallied with the branches 
 of the myrtle and in its foliage the turtle-dove cooed her sweet song! And 
 that my eyes again might light upon Az-Zahi s and Zoraya s majestic piles ! 
 Could they but see me, they would delighted stretch out their pinnacles, like 
 arms, to meet me, and my Az-Zahi would in eager haste long to embrace me, 
 as a groom his bride! But all this now seems quite impossible to me, and 
 yet God sometimes works even the impossible." 
 
 Among El Motamid s cotemponiries we can scarcely omit 
 mentioning the equally talented and excentric adventurer Ibn 
 Am mar, whom his genius raised from the obscurest origin to the 
 command of armies, the intimacy of princes, nay, to the emin 
 ence of princely rank itself. He was a poet of no ordinary 
 merit, although of a skeptical turn of mind ; in succession the 
 confidential vizier, the ambassador, and chief commander at the 
 court of Seville, and for some time the royal governor of Silves, 
 but by his ambition misled into treason, and on that account 
 eventually murdered in prison by the hand of El Motamid 
 himself. 
 
 In addition to the varieties of poetry thus far enumerated, 
 the different anthologies offer us several others of the minor 
 sort, such as epigrams, gnomic verses, apophthegms and inscrip 
 tions of every shade and hue, besides an immense number of 
 pieces that do not admit of definite classification. From these 
 we might select many a specimen of ingenuity or elegance, per 
 haps even many a literary curiosity, were our limits not already 
 passed. To the drama and the epos the Moslems of the East 
 and West and of every period of their history remained almost 
 entire strangers, and even of the epic ballad or romanza, as it 
 existed in Christian Spain, and much earlier in northern Europe, 
 there is scarcely a real vestige to be found among them. And 
 the reason of this was not because there was no popular poetry 
 among them, but because the origin, the development and 
 genius of their poetry was a peculiar one and in fact entirely 
 sui generis. As to the existence of a popular poetry, that is to 
 
44 
 
 say, of a poetry of and for the masses and in the common dia 
 lect, and that of a very extensive one, among the Arabs of 
 Spain, there cannot be the slightest doubt ; for not only, as we 
 have already seen, was even the peasant behind the plough am 
 bitious to make verses, but there are also several distinct poetical 
 varieties or forms, such as the zadjal and the muwushaha, which 
 are designated as peculiar to the people, and in which the poets 
 of the court not unfrequently wrote pieces destined for a wider 
 circulation among the millions at large. 
 
 Among the Moslem poets of Andalusia it is customary also 
 "to include those of the north of Africa and of the islands, 
 especially of Sicily, where there was a large number, and some 
 of them of considerable distinction. Such was, for example, 
 Ibn Hamdis of Syracuse, from the eleventh century, one of El 
 Motamid s friends, and the author of a great variety of pieces of 
 far more than ordinary merit, among others of several long 
 kassidas inscribed by way of ornament upon the walls and 
 ceilings of one of Prince Almansur s superb palaces at Bugia. 
 Blind and unfortunate in his old age, he compared himself to 
 the eagle no longer able to fly, and to whom his young are 
 obliged to fetch his nourishment. To the name of Ibn Hamdis 
 we may add, as likewise of Sicily, those of Ibn Tubi, Ibn Tazi, 
 Bellanobi, Abul Arab, Ibn Kaffa, Ibn Omar, Ibn Daw, and 
 Abdurrahman of Trapani. The entire number of Western poets, 
 of whom Von Hammer-Purgstall has given biographical notices 
 with specimens of their writings in the fifth, sixth and seventh 
 volumes of his history, amounts to upward of three hundred and 
 thirty. 
 
 One of the most prominent and striking peculiarities of the 
 poetry of the Arabs both of the East and West is, as we have 
 already observed, its originality. It developed itself from the 
 outset entirely out of its own resources, and never at any period 
 of its history did it become subject to any foreign influences 
 whatsoever. To such an extent is this so, that one of their 
 most learned and cleverest writers, Ibn Chaldun, probably only 
 repeats hearsay, when in his chapter on Arabic poetry he alludes 
 to that of the Persians and the Greeks and speaks of Aristotle as 
 mentioning and praising Homer. It is true, that the Arabs have 
 enjoyed the reputation of having known the Greeks at a time 
 when elsewhere in Europe they were entirely forgotten, but 
 their knowledge was confined almost exclusively to philosoph 
 ical and strictly scientific works, and these even they derived 
 not from the original, but from some Syriac translations at their 
 command. In every other respect, that is to say, in every thing 
 
45 
 
 relating to the history, mythology and poetry of other nations 
 they exhibited the most astonishing ignorance. What wonder 
 then, that a philosopher of no less eminence than Averroes 
 should in his paraphrase of Aristotle s Poetics substitute the 
 names of Antar, Amrulkais, Montenebbi, &c., in place of those 
 of Homer, Euripides and Sophocles, and that he should have so 
 little conception of the character of Greek literature as to de 
 fine tragedy " the art to praise," and comedy " the art to 
 blame," and upon the basis of this monstrous assumption to 
 claim for the panegyric and satirical kassidas of his nation a 
 place by the side of the high tragedies and comedies of the 
 old Greeks? ! Nevertheless, however true it maybe, that the 
 Arabs on account of their adherence to their own antecedents 
 and their neglect to learn from others, should have entirely failed 
 in the highest forms of poetry, it is yet equally undeniable that 
 in those forms which they cultivated and developed among them 
 selves, which we have seen to be the lyrical, they really rose to 
 a very high degree of perfection, and that they have left us 
 gems and flowers without number, which will lose nothing in 
 comparison with any other of their kind, either ancient or 
 modern. 
 
 The question concerning the influence of the Arabs on the 
 poetical literature of the South has occupied the historians and 
 critics for a great while, some claiming nearly every thing, 
 even the rhyme, derived from them, while others are disposed 
 to credit them with nothing whatsoever. The truth lies doubt 
 less somewhere between the two extremes. For while on the 
 one hand we can not evade admitting the existence of a long 
 protracted, if not an intimate, contact between the two civiliza 
 tions upon the soil of Spain and Sicily, however hostile they 
 otherwise were, especially in respect to religion, and a contact 
 that extended itselt to every class of society, it is on the other 
 hand no less manifest that the Christian poetry of the Provencals, 
 of Spain and Italy has every characteristic of a distinct individ 
 uality, and of one which can only be accounted for by assuming 
 it to be an original and inherent one. Let us adduce a few 
 facts of the case : 
 
 Although the Christian authors of Spain of every century 
 are but too prone to pronounce judgment in reference to the 
 Moors indicative of the grossest ignorance, denouncing even 
 their scientific men as necromancers in league with the devil, 
 and contributing in every way to fan the religious hate which 
 formed one of the most deeply rooted characteristics of both 
 parties, it is yet equally evident that a large number of Chris- 
 
46 
 
 tians of every rank and in every part of Spain found in the nat 
 ural course of events better opportunity to judge of their antag 
 onists, and that in many instances they had occasion to be 
 rather favorably than otherwise impressed by them. In many 
 cases (arid these in the course of centuries must have been quite 
 frequent), in which sections of Christian population were con 
 quered or led captive, and mildly treated, the natural result 
 was free, if not friendly, intercourse, and this often lasted so 
 long that many of them learned not only to speak, but even to 
 read and write the Arabic, and to compose verses in it, while on 
 the other hand the unfortunate Moriscos must to some extent 
 have likewise found opportunity to make known their language 
 and perhaps now and then also their poetry among their con 
 querors. Sometimes the conquered Christians were free to the 
 extent of complete religious toleration. At different times 
 many of them served in the army of the caliphs or kings, while 
 others occupied lucrative places at court or in the palaces of 
 Moslem nobles. Under these circumstances it is not surpris 
 ing that the refined culture of the Arabs should occasionally at 
 tract them likewise to its circle, and that after awhile the more 
 educated among them should despise their unwieldy dialect, 
 the rustic Latin or Romansh, and apply themselves with avidity 
 to the language of their masters. Such was the case as early 
 as the ninth century, if we may credit Alvaro, the bishop of 
 Cordova, who complains bitterly of it as a great calamity to the 
 church. "Many of my religious cotemporaries read the 
 poetry and the tales of the Arabs, and study the writings of the 
 Mohammedan theologians and philosophers, not to refute them, 
 but in order to learn how to express themselves with correctness 
 and elegance in the language. . . . All the young men, who 
 are noted for some talent, know but the language and literature 
 of the Arabs ; they read and study Arabic books with avidity ; 
 nay they even go to enormous expense in collecting libraries of 
 them and everywhere declare the literature to be a most admir 
 able one. . . . Many have even forgotten their own lan 
 guage, and there is scarcely one in a thousand amongst us, who 
 knows how to write a tolerable Latin letter to a friend, while 
 scores of them can express themselves most elegantly in the 
 Arabic, and even compose poems in this language better than 
 the Arabs themselves." Of poems of this description there are 
 yet some vestiges extant, and we also know that in Andalusia 
 the Latin was at one time so far neglected that Archbishop John 
 of Seville found it necessary to translate the Bible into the 
 Arabic. Nevertheless we must not imagine that this was the 
 
47 
 
 case every where ; the ruslica or Romansh continued to exist 
 quite generally as the idiom of the people, with which in their 
 turn then the Arabs were likewise sometimes familiar. It is 
 needless to multiply examples ; it is not necessary to remind 
 ourselves of characters like the redoubted champion, the Cid, 
 who fought alternately under kings of both parties, although 
 always claimed faithful to one, and who was doubtless familiar 
 not only with the language but with every thing relating to the 
 civilization of his ally-opponents; we have evidence enough to 
 prove that Christian Spain was not beyond the reach of some 
 influence from so conspicuous and popular an element of 
 Moslem culture as was their poetry. In Sicily the contact, 1 ** 
 although later, is yet equally apparent, at least as long as Fred 
 eric II. and his son Manfred kept imperial court upon the island. 
 Frederic was from early youth familiar with the Arabic, the 
 friend and munificent patron of high scientific culture in general, 
 surrounded by men of science and letters from all parts and of 
 every sort, of which, we arc expressly told, quite a number, if not 
 the majority, were Arabs, and some troubadours from the South 
 of France. Now Frederic was not only himself an amateur of 
 poetry, but he enjoys the fame of having introduced the Proven 
 cals upon Sicilian soil and of having thus founded there a school 
 which at a little later date merged itself into the Italian ; and how 
 could a prince of Frederic s taste and society remain a stranger to 
 the poetry and the poets of a nation, in which in other respects 
 he found so much to appreciate, and on a spot where the superb- 
 est architectural monuments were considered ornamented 
 by inscriptions from the hand of genius ? But besides all this, ** 
 we have evidence of even a direct influence of the Arabic 
 element upon the old Spanish or Castilian in a number of pop 
 ular pieces which have been shown to be refusions of Arabic 
 zadjals and muwashahas yet extant. Any farther than this, 
 however, the influence of the Arabs has not, and in all proba 
 bility cannot, be proven, and we must therefore assume it to 
 have been much more of an indirect and general than of a special 
 or radical one. The poetry of the South of France, of Spain 
 and Italy is therefore nevertheless far from being a borrowed or 
 ingrafted one ; it originated and matured on an essentially dif 
 ferent ground, is the expression of a distinct circle of ideas, and 
 in point of both form and substance bears the imprint of a pro 
 foundly marked individuality. 
 
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