^/iajAiNiiJn> 
 
 mO/:, 
 
 % 
 
 .-C' 
 
 %133NYS01^ ^/Ja3AINn-3WV^~ %OJ1]V3JO^ 
 
 ?? 
 
 
 > 
 
 %m: 
 
 
 
 % 
 
 ^ % 
 
 
 
 :j3 
 -< 
 
 
 ;i 
 
 AMEl' 
 
 'iil^JNYSOl^^' '^/Sdi/^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 M'^ 
 
 '^^^dmiuw^^ 
 
 Ml"^ "^^ilri-JKV-iUV^^' ''^/idi/N 
 
 
 
 l)-<rs 
 
 i 1 
 
 # 
 
 %JI3A!N!l-3Wv 
 
 
 > 
 
 Or' 
 
 o 
 
 u- 
 
 5 
 
 ^A 
 
 "^mmyi^^ 
 
 
 C2 
 
 o 
 
 >c 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 i 
 
 .'VSUl-'^'* 
 
 
 0/: 
 
 >i 
 
 ^^ 
 
 AMEDfJIVERy//, 
 
 % 
 
 ,jV ■^^<!/ujriVj-jo^' '<riij'jKvsov"<^' 
 
 ■% S
 
 "-'Aavoaii 3»' 
 
 ••jujnv iui - "'jaj/xniirjn*- 
 
 ^JV130NVSOV"<^^ 
 
 <^Hmu 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 m ! 
 
 ,^M,MiN!Vf' 
 
 % 
 
 m. 
 
 AWEUNIVER5"/a 
 
 01^^ 
 
 ?^^ <^^WEUUIVER%
 
 •ssou3}(![ jsaq siq aq oj buii|3 
 ui pajdaar^t; X[uouuuo3 ouo aqj sc pjnjaid SuiAUEdmooar om inq 'ajndsip jo JDnBui 
 B SI snpnjuo3 jo aou^jBadde iBuosaad aqj^ XjinbijuB jbsjS jo iidTijSoqui 3S3uiii3 
 B uiojj U35JB1 SI 's(oquiXs [FoiJoSaiiE Xq popunoj.ms 'siiionjuoQ jo ainjaid siq [_ 
 
 ■fuu(t fs^inq^ pjo iiv iuoa/ ^jnavjSofoqj
 
 IS' 
 
 if 
 
 [■W MK!<J!IWL('y^ ^ t'^^M)i <>vjr r7T oi ru) vkmuiui^ai uyxi.)j:ij}X {'}M'}K<.'lA J!lJLMl!AMii}sm 
 
 qoaaaOOOuuoauuoMoa: 
 
 Ki ocoaxxa»cocK»«xxjuc.Tax;ucri > t.ri io »KKi rT»»i-T unt i t» « Ki ii «iooi« 
 
 CHINESE LITERATURE
 
 it 
 
 Copyright, 1900, 
 By the colonial PRESS.
 
 El LI 
 
 /yoo 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE ANALECTS OF CONFUCIUS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introduction 3 
 
 BOOK 
 
 I.— On Learning — Miscellaneous Sayings 7 
 
 II. — Good Government — Filial Piety — The Superior Man 10 
 
 III. — Abuse of Proprieties in Ceremonial and Music 14 
 
 IV. — Social Virtue — Superior and Inferior Man 19 
 
 V. — A Disciple and the Golden Rule — Miscellaneous 22 
 
 VI. — More Characteristics — Wisdom — Philanthropy 27 
 
 VII.— Characteristics of Confucius — An Incident 31 
 
 VIII.— Sayings of Tsang — Sentences of the Master 36 
 
 IX.^His Favorite Disciple's Opinion of Him 40 
 
 X. — Confucius in Private and Official Life 44 
 
 XI. — Comparative Worth of His Disciples 48 
 
 XII. — The Master's Answers — Philanthropy — Friendships 53 
 
 XIII. — Answers on the Art of Governing — Consistency 58 
 
 XIV. — Good and Bad Government — Miscellaneous Sayings 63 
 
 XV.-— Practical Wisdom — Reciprocity the Rule of Life 70 
 
 XVI. — Against Intestine Strife — Good and Bad Friendships 75 
 
 XVII. — The Master Induced to Take Office — Nature and Habit. ... 79 
 
 XVIII. — Good Men in Seclusion — Duke of Chow to His Son 84 
 
 XIX. — Teachings of Various Chief Disciples 88 
 
 XX. — Extracts from the Book of History 92 
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 Introduction 97 
 
 Book I. — King Hwuy of Leang. — 
 
 Part 1 99 
 
 [Books II., III., and IV. are omitted] 
 
 Eook V. — Wan Chang. — 
 
 Part I IIO 
 
 iii 
 
 /Jib /^
 
 IV CONTENTS 
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 PACK 
 
 Introduction » 123 
 
 Part I. — Lessons from the States. 
 
 Book I. — The Odes of Chow and the South. — 
 
 Celebrating the Virtue of King Wan's Bride 125 
 
 Celebrating the Industry of King Wan's Queen 126 
 
 In Praise of a Bride 126 
 
 Celebrating T'ae-Sze's Freedom from Jealousy 127 
 
 The Fruitfulness of the Locust 127 
 
 Lamenting the Absence of a Cherished Friend 128 
 
 Celebrating the Goodness of the Descendants of King Wan. .. . 128 
 
 The Virtuous Manners of the Young Women 129 
 
 Praise of a Rabbit-Catcher 129 
 
 The Song of the Plantain-Gatherers 130 
 
 The Afifection of the Wives on the Joo 130 
 
 Book II. — The Odes of Shaou and the South. — 
 
 The Marriage of a Princess 131 
 
 The Industry and Reverence of a Prince's Wife 131 
 
 The Wife of Some Great Officer Bewails his Absence 132 
 
 The Diligence of the Young Wife of an Officer 132 
 
 The Love of the People for the Duke of Shaou 133 
 
 The Easy Dignity of the Officers at Some Court 133 
 
 Anxiety of a Young Lady to Get Married 134 
 
 Book III.— The Odes of P'ei. — 
 
 An Officer Bewails the Neglect with which He is Treated 135 
 
 A Wife Deplores the Absence of Her Husband 136 
 
 The Plaint of a Rejected Wife 137 
 
 Soldiers of Wei Bewail Separation from their Families 138 
 
 An Officer Tells of His Mean Employment 139 
 
 An Officer Sets Forth His Hard Lot 139 
 
 The Complaint of a Neglected Wife 140 
 
 In Praise of a Maiden 141 
 
 Discontent 141 
 
 Chwang Keang Bemoans Her Husband's Cruelty 142 
 
 [Books IV., v., and VI. are omitted] 
 
 Book VJI.— The Odes of Ch'ing. — 
 
 The People's Admiration for Duke Woo 143 
 
 A Wife Consoled by Her Husband's Arrival 143 
 
 In Praise of Some Lady 144 
 
 A Man's Praise of His Wife I44 
 
 An Entreaty I45 
 
 A Woman Scorning Her Lover 145 
 
 A Lady Mourns the Absence of Her Student Lover 145
 
 CONTENTS V 
 
 Book VIII. — The Odes of Ts'e. — pack 
 
 A Wife Urging Her Husband to Action 146 
 
 The Folly of Useless Effort 146 
 
 The Prince of Loo 147 
 
 Book IX. — The Odes of Wei. — 
 
 On the Misgovernment of the State 148 
 
 The Mean Husband 149 
 
 A Young Soldier on Service , 149 
 
 Book X. — The Odes of T'ang. — 
 
 The King Goes to War 151 
 
 Lament of a Bereaved Person 152 
 
 The Drawbacks of Poverty 152 
 
 A Wife Mourns for Her Husband 153 
 
 Book XI. — The Odes of Ts'in. — 
 
 Celebrating the Opulence of the Lords of Ts'in 154 
 
 A Complaint 154 
 
 A Wife's Grief Because of Her Husband's Absence 155 
 
 Lament for Three Brothers 155 
 
 In Praise of a Ruler of Ts'in 157 
 
 The Generous Nephew 157 
 
 Book XII. — The Odes of Ch'in. — 
 
 The Contentment of a Poor Recluse 158 
 
 The Disappointed Lover 158 
 
 A Love-Song « . . . . 159 
 
 The Lament of a Lover 159 
 
 Book XIII. — The Odes of Kwei. — 
 
 The Wish of an Unhappy Man 161 
 
 Book XIV. — The Odes of Ts'aou. — 
 
 Against Frivolous Pursuits 162 
 
 Book XV.— The Odes of Pin.— 
 
 The Duke of Chow Tells of His Soldiers 163 
 
 There is a Proper Way for Doing Everything 164 
 
 Part II. — Minor Odes of the Kingdom. 
 
 Book I. — Decade of Luh Ming. — 
 
 A Festal Ode 165 
 
 A Festal Ode Complimenting an Officer 166 
 
 The Value of Friendship 167 
 
 The Response to a Festal Ode 168 
 
 An Ode of Congratulation 169 
 
 An Ode on the Return of the Troops 170 
 
 Book II. — The Decade of Pih Hwa. — 
 
 An Ode Appropriate to a Festivity « 172 
 
 Book III. — The Decade of T'ung Kung. — 
 
 Celebrating a Hunting Expedition 173
 
 vi CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The King's Anxiety for His Morning Levee 174 
 
 Moral Lessons from Natural Facts 174 
 
 Book IV. — The Decade of K'e-Foo. — 
 
 On the Completion of a Royal Palace 176 
 
 The Condition of King Seuen's Flocks 177 
 
 Book V. — The Decade of Seaou Min. — 
 
 A Eunuch Complains of His Fate 179 
 
 An Officer Deplores the Misery of the Time 180 
 
 On the Alienation of a Friend 182 
 
 Book VL — The Decade of Pih Shan. — 
 
 A Picture of Husbandry 183 
 
 The Complaint of an Officer 184 
 
 Book VH. — Decade of Sang Hoo. — 
 
 The Rejoicings of a Bridegroom 187 
 
 Against Listening to Slanderers 188 
 
 Book VHL — The Decade of Too Jin Sze. — 
 
 Li Praise of By-gone Simplicity 189 
 
 A Wife Bemoans Her Husband's Absence 190 
 
 The Earl of Shaou's Work 191 
 
 The Plaint of King Yew's Forsaken Wife 191 
 
 Hospitality 193 
 
 On the Misery of Soldiers 194 
 
 Part III. — Greater Odes of the Kingdom. 
 
 Book L — Decade of King Wan. — 
 
 Celebrating King Wan 195 
 
 [Book II. is omitted] 
 
 Book HL — Decade of Tang. — 
 
 King Seuen on the Occasion of a Great Drought 197 
 
 Part IV. — Odes of the Temple and Altar. 
 Book L — Sacrificial Odes of Chow. — 
 
 Appropriate to a Sacrifice to King Wan 201 
 
 On Sacrificing to the Kings Woo, Ching, and K'ang 202 
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 Translator's Introduction 205 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. — From Ch'ang-gan to the Sandy Desert 213 
 
 II. — On to Shen-shen and thence to Khoten 214 
 
 III. — Khoten — Processions of Images 216 
 
 IV. — Through the Ts'ung Mountains to K'eech-ch'a 218 
 
 V. — Great Quinquennial Assembly of Monks 218 
 
 VI. — North India — Image of Maitreya Bodhisattva 220
 
 CONTENTS vii 
 
 CHAPTER PAGB 
 
 VII. — The Perilous Crossing of the Indus 221 
 
 VIII. — Woo-chang, or Udyana — Traces of Buddha 222 
 
 IX. — Soo-ho-to — Legends of Buddha 223 
 
 X. — Gandhara — Legends of Buddha 223 
 
 XL — Takshasila — Legends — The Four Great Topes 224 
 
 XII. — Buddha's Alms-bowl — Death of Hwuy-king 224 
 
 XIII. — Festival of Buddha's Skull-bone 226 
 
 XIV. — Crossing the Indus to the East 228 
 
 XV. — Sympathy of Monks with the Pilgrims 229 
 
 XVI. — Condition and Customs of Central India 230 
 
 XVII. — Legend of the Trayastrimsas Heaven... 233 
 
 XVIII. — Buddha's Subjects of Discourse 236 
 
 XIX. — Legend of Buddha's Danta-kashtha 237 
 
 XX. — The Jetavana Vihara-^Legends of Buddha...- 237 
 
 XXI. — The Three Predecessors of Sakyamuni 242 
 
 XXII. — Legends of Buddha's Birth 243 
 
 XXIII. — Legends of Rama and its Tope 245 
 
 XXIV.— Where Buddha Renounced the World 246 
 
 XXV. — The Kingdom of Vaisali 247 
 
 XXVI. — Remarkable Death of Ananda 249 
 
 XXVII. — King Asoka's Spirit-built Palace and Halls 250 
 
 XXVIII. — Rajagriha, New and Old — Legends Connected with It. 252 
 
 XXIX. — Fa-Hien Passes a Night on Gridhra-kuta Hill 253 
 
 XXX. — Srataparna Cave, or Cave of the First Council 254 
 
 XXXI. — Sakyamuni's Attaining to the Buddhaship 256 
 
 XXXII. — Legend of King Asoka in a Former Birth 258 
 
 XXXIII. — Kasyapa Buddha's Skeleton on Mount Gurupada 260 
 
 XXXI v.— On the Way Returning to Patna 261 
 
 XXXV. — Dakshina, and the Pigeon Monastery 262 
 
 XXXVI. — Fa-Hien's Indian Studies 264 
 
 XXXVII. — Fa-Hien's Stay in Champa and Tamalipti 265 
 
 XXXVIIL— At Ceylon— Feats of Buddha— His Statue in Jade.... 266 
 
 XXXIX. — Cremation of an Arhat — Sermon of a Devotee 270 
 
 XL. — After Two Years Fa-Hien Takes Ship for China 272 
 
 Conclusion 277 
 
 THE SORROWS OF HAN 
 
 Introduction 281 
 
 Translator's Preface 283 
 
 Dramatis Personae 286 
 
 Prologue 287 
 
 Act First 290 
 
 Act Second 293 
 
 Act Third 298 
 
 Act Fourth 301
 
 ILLUSTRATION 
 
 Confucius ....... Frontispiece 
 
 Photogravure from an old Chinese print
 
 THE ANALECTS 
 
 OF 
 
 CONFUCIUS 
 
 [Translated into English by William Jennings^
 
 PRONUNCIATION OF PROPER NAMES 
 
 /, as in French. 
 
 ng, commencing a word, like the same letters terminating one. 
 
 ai or ei, as in aisle or eider. 
 
 an, as in German, or like ow in cow. 
 
 e, as in fete. 
 
 i (not followed by a consonant), as ee in see. 
 
 u (followed by a consonant), as in bull. 
 
 iu, as ew in new. 
 
 ui, as ooi in cooing. 
 
 h at the end of a name makes the preceding vowel short. 
 
 » in the middle of a word denotes an aspirate (h), as i^'M«^=Khung.
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE strangest figure that meets us in the annals of Ori- 
 ental thought is that of Confucius. To the popular 
 mind he is the founder of a religion, and yet he has 
 nothing in common with the great religious teachers of the 
 East. We think of Siddartha, the founder of Buddhism, as the 
 very impersonation of romantic asceticism, enthusiastic self- 
 sacrifice, and faith in the things that are invisible. Zoroaster 
 is the friend of God, talking face to face with the Almighty, and 
 drinking wisdom and knowledge from the lips of Omniscience. 
 Mohammed is represented as snatched up into heaven, where 
 he receives the Divine communication which he is bidden to 
 propagate with fire and sword throughout the world. These 
 great teachers lived in an atmosphere of the supernatural. They 
 spoke with the authority of inspired prophets. They brought 
 the unseen world close to the minds of their disciples. They 
 spoke positively of immortality, of reward or punishment be- 
 yond the grave. The present life they despised, the future was 
 to them everything in its promised satisfaction. The teachings 
 of Confucius were of a very dififerent sort. Throughout his 
 whole writings he has not even mentioned the name of God. 
 He declined to discuss the question of immortality. When he 
 was asked about spiritual beings, he remarked, " If we cannot 
 even know men, how can we know spirits ? " 
 
 Yet this was the man the impress of whose teaching has 
 formed the national character of five hundred millions of people. 
 A temple to Confucius stands to this day in every town and 
 village of China. His precepts are committed to memory by 
 every child from the tenderest age, and each year at the royal 
 university at Pekin the Emperor holds a festival in honor of 
 the illustrious teacher. 
 
 The influence of Confucius springs, first of all, from the nar- 
 rowness and definiteness of his doctrine. He was no transcen-
 
 4 THE ANALECTS 
 
 dentalist, and never meddled witli supramundane things. His 
 teaching was of the earth, earthy ; it dealt entirely with the 
 common relations of life, and the Golden Rule he must neces- 
 sarily have stumbled upon, as the most obvious canon of his 
 system. He strikes us as being the great Stoic of the East, for 
 he believed that virtue was based on knowledge, knowledge of 
 a man's own heart, and knowledge of human-kind. There is a 
 pathetic resemblance between the accounts given of the death of 
 Confucius and the death of Zeno. Both died almost without 
 warning in dreary hopelessness, without the ministrations of 
 either love or religion. This may be a mere coincidence, but 
 the lives and teachings of both men must have led them to look 
 with indifiference upon such an end. For Confucius in his 
 teaching treated only of man's life on earth, and seems to have 
 had no ideas with regard to the human lot after death ; if he had 
 any ideas he preserved an inscrutable silence about them. As 
 a moralist he prescribed the duties of the king and of the 
 father, and advocated the cultivation by the individual man of 
 that rest or apathy of mind which resembles so much the dis- 
 position aimed at by the Greek and Roman Stoic. Even as a 
 moralist, he seems to have sacrificed the ideal to the practical, 
 and his loose notions about marriage, his tolerance of concubi- 
 nage, the slight emphasis which he lays on the virtue of verac- 
 ity — of which indeed he does not seem himself to have been par- 
 ticularly studious in his historic writings — place him low down 
 in the rank of moralists. Yet he taught what he felt the people 
 could receive, and the flat mediocrity of his character and his 
 teachings has been stamped forever upon a people who, while 
 they are kindly, gentle, forbearing, and full of family piety, are 
 palpably lacking not only in the exaltation of Mysticism, but in 
 any religious feeling, generally so-called. 
 
 The second reason that made the teaching of Confucius so 
 influential is based on the circumstances of the time. When 
 this thoughtful, earnest youth awoke to the consciousness of life 
 about him, he saw that the abuses under which the people 
 groaned sprang from the feudal system, which cut up the coun- 
 try into separate territories, over which the power of the king 
 had no control. China was in the position of France in the 
 years preceding Philippe-Auguste, excepting that there were 
 no places of sanctuary and no Truce of God. The great doc- 
 trine of Confucius was the unlimited despotism of the Emperor,
 
 INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 and his moral precepts were intended to teach the Emperor how 
 to use his power aright. But the Emperor was only typical of 
 all those in authority — the feudal duke, the judge on the bench, 
 and the father of the family. Each could discharge his duties 
 aright only by submitting to the moral discipline which Con- 
 fucius prescribed. A vital element in this system is its con- 
 servatism, its adherence to the imperial idea. As James I said, 
 " No bishop, no king," so the imperialists of China have found 
 in Confucianism the strongest basis for the throne, and have 
 supported its dissemination accordingly. 
 
 The Analects of Confucius contain the gist of his teachings, 
 and is worthy of study. We find in this work most of the pre- 
 cepts which his disciples have preserved and recorded. They 
 form a code remarkable for simplicity, even crudity, and we are 
 compelled to admire the force of character, the practical sa- 
 gacity, the insight into the needs of the hour, which enabled 
 Confucius, without claiming any Divine sanction, to impose 
 this system upon his countrymen. 
 
 The name Confucius is only the Latinized form of two words 
 which mean " Master K'ung." He was born 551 B.C., his father 
 being governor of Shantung. He was married at nineteen, and 
 seems to have occupied some minor position under the govern- 
 ment. In his twenty-fourth year he entered upon the three 
 years' mourning for the death of his mother. His seclusion 
 gave him time for deep thought and the study of history, and 
 he resolved upon the regeneration of his unhappy country. By 
 the time he was thirty he became known as a great teacher, and 
 disciples flocked to him. But he was yet occupied in public 
 duties, and rose through successive stages to the office of Chief 
 Judge in his own country of Lu. His tenure of office is said to 
 have put an end to crime, and he became the " idol of the peo- 
 ple " in his district. The jealousy of the feudal lords was 
 roused by his fame as a moral teacher and a blameless judge. 
 Confucius was driven from his home, and wandered about, with 
 a few disciples, until his sixty-ninth year, when he returned to 
 Lu, after accomplishing a work which has borne fruit, such as 
 it is, to the present day. He spent the remaining five years of 
 his life in editing the odes and historic monuments in which the 
 glories of the ancient Chinese dynasty are set forth. He died 
 in his seventy-third year, 478 B.C. There can be no doubt that 
 the success of Confucius has been singularly great, owing
 
 6 THE ANALECTS 
 
 especially to the narrow scope of his scheme, which has become 
 --^ crystallized in the habits, usages, and customs of the people. 
 Especially has it been instrumental in consolidating the empire, 
 and in strengthening the power of the monarch, who, as he 
 every year burns incense in the red-walled temple at Pekin, 
 utters sincerely the invocation : " Great art thou, O perfect 
 Sage ! Thy virtue is full, thy doctrine complete. Among 
 mortal men there has not been thine equal. All kings honor 
 thee. Thy statutes and laws have come gloriously down. 
 Thou art the pattern in this imperial school. Reverently have 
 the sacrificial vessels been set out. Full of awe, we sound our 
 drums and bells." 
 
 E. W.
 
 THE ANALECTS 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 On Learning — Miscellaneous Sayings 
 
 " 'T~^0 learn," said the Master, " and then to practise op- 
 I portunely what one has learnt — does not this bring 
 with it a sense of satisfaction? 
 
 " To have associates in study coming to one from distant 
 parts — does not this also mean pleasure in store? 
 
 " And are not those who, while not comprehending all that 
 is said, still remain not unpleased to hear, men of the superior 
 order?" 
 
 A saying of the Scholar Yu : — 
 
 " It is rarely the case that those who act the part of true men 
 in regard to their duty to parents and elder brothers are at the 
 same time willing to turn currishly upon their superiors : it has 
 never yet been the case that such as desire not to commit that 
 offence have been men willing to promote anarchy or disorder. 
 
 " Men of superior mind busy themselves first in getting at the 
 root of things ; and when they have succeeded in this the right 
 course is open to them. Well, are not filial piety and friendly 
 subordination among brothers a root of that right feeling which 
 is owing generally from man to man ? " 
 
 The Master observed, " Rarely do we meet with the right 
 feeling due from one man to another where there is fine speech 
 and studied mien." 
 
 The Scholar Tsang once said of himself: " On three points 
 I examine myself daily, viz., whether, in looking after other 
 people's interests, I have not been acting whole-heartedly ; 
 whether, in my intercourse with friends, I have not been true ; 
 and whether, after teaching, I have not myself been practising 
 what I have taught." 
 
 The Master once observed that to rule well one of the larger 
 
 7
 
 8 CONFUCIUS 
 
 States meant strict attention to its affairs and conscientiousness 
 on the part of the ruler ; careful husbanding of its resources, 
 with at the same time a tender care for the interests of all 
 classes ; and the employing of the masses in the public service 
 at suitable seasons. 
 
 " Let young people," said he, " show filial piety at home, 
 respectfulness towards their elders when away from home ; let 
 them be circumspect, be truthful ; their love going out freely 
 towards all, cultivating good-will to men. And if, in such a 
 walk, there be time or energy left for other things, let them 
 employ it in the acquisition of literary or artistic accomplish- 
 ments." 
 
 The disciple Tsz-hia said, " The appreciation of worth in men 
 of worth, thus diverting the mind from lascivious desires — min- 
 istering to parents while one is the most capable of so doing — 
 serving one's ruler when one is able to devote himself entirely 
 to that object — being sincere in one's language in intercourse 
 with friends : this I certainly must call evidence of learning, 
 though others may say there has been ' no learning.' " 
 
 Sayings of the Master : — 
 
 " If the great man be not grave, he will not be revered, neither 
 can his learning be solid. 
 
 " Give prominent place to loyalty and sincerity. 
 
 " Have no associates in study who are not advanced some- 
 what like yourself. 
 
 " When you have erred, be not afraid to correct yourself." 
 
 A saying of the Scholar Tsang: — 
 
 " The virtue of the people is renewed and enriched when at- 
 tention is seen to be paid to the departed, and the remembrance 
 of distant ancestors kept and cherished." 
 
 Tsz-k'in put this query to his fellow disciple Tsz-kung : said 
 he, " When our Master comes to this or that State, he learns 
 without fail how it is being governed. Does he investigate 
 matters ? or are the facts given him ? " 
 
 Tsz-kung answered, " Our Master is a man of pleasant man- 
 ners, and of probity, courteous, moderate, and unassuming: it 
 is by his being such that he arrives at the facts. Is not his way 
 of arriving at things different from that of others? " 
 
 A saying of the Master : — 
 
 " He who, after three years' observation of the will of his 
 father when alive, or of his past conduct if dead, does not devi-
 
 THE ANALECTS 9 
 
 ate from that father's ways, is entitled to be called ' a dutiful 
 son.' " 
 
 Sayings of the Scholar Yu : — 
 
 " For the practice of the Rules of Propriety/ one excellent 
 way is to be natural. This naturalness became a great grace 
 in the practice of kings of former times ; let everyone, small or 
 great, follow their example. 
 
 " It is not, however, always practicable ; and it is not so in 
 the case of a person who does things naturally, knowing that 
 he should act so, and yet who neglects to regulate his acts ac- 
 cording to the Rules. 
 
 " When truth and right are hand in hand, a statement will 
 bear repetition. When respectfulness and propriety go hand 
 in hand, disgrace and shame are kept afar-ofif. Remove all oc- 
 casion for alienating those to whom you are bound by close 
 ties, and you have them still to resort to." 
 
 A saying of the Master : — 
 
 " The man of greater mind who, when he is eating, craves 
 not to eat to the full ; who has a home, but craves not for com- 
 forts in it ; who is active and earnest in his work and careful 
 in his words ; who makes towards men of high principle, and so 
 maintains his own rectitude — that man may be styled a devoted 
 student." 
 
 Tsz-kung asked, " What say you, sir, of the poor who do not 
 cringe and fawn ; and what of the rich who are without pride 
 and haughtiness? " " They are passable," the Master replied ; 
 " yet they are scarcely in the same category as the poor who are 
 happy, and the rich who love propriety." 
 
 " In the ' Book of the Odes,' " Tsz-kung went on to say, " we 
 read of one 
 
 Polished, as by the knife and file, 
 The graving-tool, the smoothing-stone. 
 
 Does that coincide with your remark ? " 
 
 " Ah ! such as you," replied the Master, " may well com- 
 mence a discussion on the Odes. If one tell you how a thing 
 goes, you know what ought to come." 
 
 " It does not greatly concern me," said the Master, " that 
 men do not know me ; my great concern is, my not knowing 
 them." 
 
 * An important part of a Chinaman's propriety for the whole life, from the 
 education ?till. The text-book, " The cradle to the grave. 
 Li Ki," contains rules for behavior and
 
 BOOK II 
 Good Government— Filial Piety— The Superior Man 
 
 SAYINGS of the Master:— 
 " Let a ruler base his government upon virtuous 
 principles, and he will be like the pole-star, which re- 
 mains steadfast in its place, while all the host of stars turn 
 towards it. 
 
 " The * Book of Odes ' contains three hundred pieces, but one 
 expression in it may be taken as covering the purport of all, 
 viz.. Unswerving mindfulness. 
 
 " To govern simply by statute, and to reduce all to order by 
 means of pains and penalties, is to render the people evasive, 
 and devoid of any sense of shame. 
 
 " To govern upon principles of virtue, and to reduce them to 
 order by the Rules of Propriety, would not only create in them 
 the sense of shame, but would moreover reach them in all their 
 errors. 
 
 " When I attained the age of fifteen, I became bent upon 
 study. At thirty, I was a confirmed student. At forty, nought 
 could move me from my course. At fifty, I comprehended the 
 will and decrees of Heaven. At sixty, my ears were attuned 
 to them. At seventy, I could follow my heart's desires, without 
 overstepping the lines of rectitude." 
 
 To a question of Mang-i, as to what filial piety consisted in, 
 the master replied, " In not being perverse." Afterwards, 
 when Fan Ch'i was driving him, the Master informed him of 
 this question and answer, and Fan Ch'i asked, " What was your 
 meaning?" The Master replied, " I meant that the Rules of 
 Propriety should always be adhered to in regard to those who 
 brought us into the world : in ministering to them while living, 
 in burying them when dead, and afterwards in the offering to 
 tbcm of sacrificial gifts." 
 
 To a query of Mang Wu respecting filial piety, the Master
 
 THE ANALECTS ii 
 
 replied, " Parents ought to bear but one trouble — that of their 
 own sickness." 
 
 To a like question put by Tsz-yu, his reply was this : " The 
 filial piety of the present day simply means the being able to 
 support one's parents — which extends even to the case of dogs 
 and horses, all of which may have something to give in the way 
 of support. If there be no reverential feeling in the matter, 
 what is there to distinguish between the cases ? " 
 
 To a like question of Tsz-hia, he replied : " The manner is 
 the difficulty. If, in the case of work to be done, the younger 
 folks simply take upon themselves the toil of it ; or if, in the 
 matter of meat and drink, they simply set these before their 
 elders — is this to be taken as filial piety ? " 
 
 Once the Master remarked, " I have conversed with Hwui 
 the whole day long, and he has controverted nothing that I have 
 said, as if he were without wits. But when his back was 
 turned, and I looked attentively at his conduct apart from me, 
 I found it satisfactory in all its issues. No, indeed ! Hwui is not 
 without his wits." 
 
 Other observations of the Master: — 
 
 " If you observe what things people (usually) take in hand, 
 watch their motives, and note particularly what it is that gives 
 them satisfaction, shall they be able to conceal from you what 
 they are? Conceal themselves, indeed! 
 
 " Be versed in ancient lore, and familiarize yourself with the 
 modern ; then may you become teachers. 
 
 " The great man is not a mere receptacle." 
 
 In reply to Tsz-kung respecting the great man : — 
 
 " What he first says, as a result of his experience, he after- 
 wards follows up. 
 
 " The great man is catholic-minded, and not one-sided. The 
 common man is the reverse. 
 
 " Learning, without thought, is a snare ; thought, without 
 learning, is a danger. 
 
 " Where the mind is set much upon heterodox principles — 
 there truly and indeed is harm." 
 
 To the disciple Tsz-lu the Master said, " Shall I give you a 
 lesson about knowledge? When you know a thing, maintain 
 that you know it ; and when you do not, acknowledge your 
 ignorance. This is characteristic of knowledge." 
 
 Tsz-chang was studying with an eye to official income. The
 
 12 CONFUCIUS 
 
 Master addressed him thus: " Of the many things you hear 
 hold aloof from those that are doubtful, and speak guardedly 
 with reference to the rest; your mistakes will then be few. 
 Also, of the many courses you see adopted, hold aloof from 
 those that are risky, and carefully follow the others ; you will 
 then seldom have occasion for regret. Thus, being seldom 
 mistaken in your utterances, and having few occasions for re- 
 gret in the line you take, you are on the high road to your 
 preferment." 
 
 To a question put to him by Duke Ngai' as to what should 
 be done in order to render the people submissive to authority, 
 Confucius replied, " Promote the straightforward, and reject 
 those whose courses are crooked, and the thing will be effected. 
 Promote the crooked and reject the straightforward, and the 
 effect will be the reverse," 
 
 When Ki K'ang^ asked of him how the people could be in- 
 duced to show respect, loyalty, and willingness to be led, the 
 Master answered, " Let there be grave dignity in him who has 
 the oversight of them, and they will show him respect ; let him 
 be seen to be good to his own parents, and kindly in disposition, 
 and they will be loyal to him ; let him promote those who have 
 ability, and see to the instruction of those who have it not, and 
 they will be willing to be led." 
 
 Some one, speaking to Confucius, inquired, " Why, sir, are 
 you not an administrator of government?" The Master re- 
 joined, " What says the ' Book of the Annals,' with reference to 
 filial duty ? — ' Make it a point to be dutiful to your parents and 
 amicable with your brethren ; the same duties extend to an 
 administrator.' If these, then, also make an administrator, 
 how am I to take your words about being an adminis- 
 trator?" 
 
 On one occasion the Master remarked, " I know not what 
 men are good for, on whose word no reliance can be placed. 
 How should your carriages, large or little, get along without 
 your whipple-trees or swing-trees ? " 
 
 Tsz-chang asked if it were possible to forecast the state of 
 the country ten generations hence. The Master replied in this 
 manner : " The Yin dynasty adopted the rules and manners 
 of the Hia line of kings, and it is possible to tell whether it ret- 
 
 * Of Lu (Confucius's native State). 
 
 • Head of one of the " Three Families " of Lu.
 
 THE ANALECTS 13 
 
 rograded or advanced. The Chow Hne has followed the Yin, 
 adopting its ways, and whether there has been deterioration or 
 improvement may also be determined. Some other line may 
 take up in turn those of Chow ; and supposing even this process 
 to go on for a hundred generations, the result may be known." 
 
 Other sayings of the Master : — 
 
 " It is but flattery to make sacrificial offerings to departed 
 spirits not belonging to one's own family. 
 
 " It is moral cowardice to leave undone what one perceives 
 to be right to do."
 
 BOOK III 
 Abuse of Proprieties in Ceremonial and Music 
 
 ALLUDING to the head of the Ki family,* and the ei^ht 
 Hues of posturers ^ before their ancestral hall, Con- 
 fucius remarked, " If the Ki can allow himself to go to 
 this extent, to what extent will he not allow himself to go ? " 
 
 The Three Families^ were in the habit, during the Removal 
 of the sacred vessels after sacrifice, of using the hymn com- 
 mencing 
 
 " Harmoniously the Princes 
 
 Draw near with reverent tread, 
 Assisting in his worship 
 Heaven's Son, the great and dread." 
 
 " How," exclaimed the Master, " can such words be ap- 
 propriated in the ancestral hall of the Three Families ? " 
 
 " Where a man," said he again, " has not the proper feelings 
 due from one man to another, how will he stand as regards the 
 Rules of Propriety ? And in such a case, what shall we say of 
 his sense of harmony ? " 
 
 On a question being put to him by Lin Fang, a disciple, as 
 to what was the radical idea upon which the Rules of Propriety 
 were based, the Master exclaimed, " Ah ! that is a large ques- 
 tion. As to some rules, where there is likelihood of extrava- 
 gance, they would rather demand economy ; in those which 
 relate to mourning, and where there is likelihood of being easily 
 satisfied, what is wanted is real sorrow." 
 
 Speaking of the disorder of the times he remarked that while 
 
 * The Chief of the Ki clan was virtu- official had four, and one of lower grade 
 
 ally the Duke of Lu, under wliom Con- two. These were the gradations mark- 
 
 fucius for a time held office. ing the status of families, and Con- 
 
 ^ These posturers were mutes who fucius's sense of propriety was offended 
 
 took part in the ritual of the ancestral at the Ki's usurping in this way the 
 
 temple, waving plumes, flags, etc. Each appearance of royalty, 
 
 line or rank of these contained eight " Three great families related to each 
 
 men. Only in the sovereign's house- other, in whose hands the government 
 
 hold should there have been eight lines of the State of Lu then was, and of 
 
 of them; a ducal family like the Ki which the Ivi was the chief, 
 should have had but six lines; a great 
 
 «4
 
 THE ANALECTS i^ 
 
 the barbarians on the North and East had their Chieftains, we 
 here in this great country had nothing to compare with them 
 in that respect : — we had lost these distinctions ! 
 
 Alhiding to the matter of the Chief of the Ki family worship- 
 ping on T'ai-shan/ the Master said to Yen Yu, " Cannot you 
 save him from this ? " He replied, " It is beyond my power." 
 " Alas, alas ! " exclaimed the Master, " are we to say that the 
 spirits of T'ai-shan have not as much discernment as Lin 
 Fang?" 
 
 Of " the superior man," the Master observed, " In him 
 there is no contentiousness. Say even that he does certainly 
 contend with others, as in archery competitions ; yet mark, in 
 that case, how courteously he will bow and go up for the forfeit- 
 cup, and come down again and give it to his competitor. In 
 his very contest he is still the superior man." 
 
 Tsz-hia once inquired what inference might be drawn from 
 the lines — 
 
 " Dimples playing in witching smile, 
 Beautiful eyes, so dark, so bright ! 
 Oh, and her face may be thought the while 
 Colored by art, red rose on white ! " 
 
 " Coloring," replied the Master, " requires a pure and clear 
 background." " Then," said the other, " rules of ceremony 
 require to have a background ! " " Ah ! " exclaimed the Mas- 
 ter, " you are the man to catch the drift of my thought. Such 
 as you may well introduce a discussion on the Odes." 
 
 Said the Master, " As regards the ceremonial adopted and 
 enforced by the Hia dynasty, I am able to describe it, although 
 their own descendants in the State of Ki can adduce no ade- 
 quate testimony in favor of its use there. So, too, I am able to 
 describe the ceremonial of the Yin dynasty, although no more 
 can the Sung people show sufificient reason for its continuance 
 amongst themselves. And why cannot they do so? Because 
 they have not documents enough, nor men learned enough. 
 If only they had such, I could refer them to them in support of 
 their usages. 
 
 " When I am present at the great quinquennial sacrifice to 
 the manes of the royal ancestors," the Master said, " from the 
 pouring-out of the oblation onwards, I have no heart to look 
 on." 
 
 * One of the five sacred mountains, worshipped upon only by the sovereign.
 
 i6 CONFUCIUS 
 
 Some one asked what was the purport of this great sacrifice, 
 and the Master rephed, " I cannot telh The position in the 
 empire of him who could tell you is as evident as when you look 
 at this " — pointing to the palm of his hand. 
 
 When he offered sacrifices to his ancestors, he used to act as 
 if they were present before him. In offering to other spirits 
 it was the same. 
 
 He would say, " If I do not myself take part in my offerings, 
 it is all the same as if I did not offer them." 
 
 Wang-sun Kia asked him once, " What says the proverb, 
 * Better to court favor in the kitchen than in the drawing- 
 room ' ? " The Master replied, " Nay, better say. He who has 
 sinned against Heaven has none other to whom prayer may be 
 addressed." 
 
 Of the Chow dynasty the Master remarked, " It looks back 
 upon two other dynasties ; and what a rich possession it has in 
 its records of those times ! I follow Chow ! " 
 
 On his first entry into the grand temple, he inquired about 
 every matter connected with its usages. Some one thereupon 
 remarked, " Who says that the son of the man of Tsou^ under- 
 stands about ceremonial? On entering the grand temple he 
 inquired about everything." This remark coming to the Mas- 
 ter's ears, he said, " What I did is part of the ceremonial ! " 
 
 " In archery," he said, " the great point to be observed is not 
 simply the perforation of the leather ; for men have not all the 
 same strength. That was the fashion in the olden days." 
 
 Once, seeing that his disciple Tsz-kung was desirous that the 
 ceremonial observance of offering a sheep at the new moon 
 might be dispensed with, the Master said, " Ah ! you grudge 
 the loss of the sheep ; I grudge the loss of the ceremony." 
 
 " To serve one's ruler nowadays," he remarked, " fully com- 
 plying with the Rules of Propriety, is regarded by others as 
 toadyism ! " 
 
 When Duke Ting questioned him as to how a prince should 
 deal with his ministers, and how they in turn should serve their 
 prince, Confucius said in reply, " In dealing with his ministers 
 a prince should observe the proprieties ; in serving his prince a 
 minister should observe the duty of loyalty." 
 
 Referring to the First of the Odes, he remarked that it was 
 
 • Tsou was Confucius's birthplace; his father was governor of the town.
 
 THE ANALECTS 
 
 17 
 
 mirthful without being lewd, and sad also without being 
 painful. 
 
 Duke Ngai asked the disciple Tsai Wo respecting the places 
 for sacrificing to the Earth. The latter replied, " The Family 
 of the Great Yu, of the Hia dynasty, chose a place of pine trees ; 
 the Yin founders chose cypresses ; and the Chow founders 
 chestnut trees, solemn and majestic, to inspire, 'tis said, the 
 people with feelings of awe." 
 
 The Master on hearing of this exclaimed, " Never an allu- 
 sion to things that have been enacted in the past ! Never a re- 
 monstrance against what is now going on ! He has gone away 
 without a word of censure." 
 
 The Master once said of Kwan Chung,^ " A small-minded 
 man indeed ! " 
 
 " Was he miserly? " some one asked. 
 
 " Miserly, indeed ! " said he ; " not that : he married three 
 times, and he was not a man who restricted his ofificial business 
 to too few hands — how could he be miserly? " 
 
 " He knew the Rules of Propriety, I suppose? " 
 
 " Judge : — Seeing that the feudal lords planted a screen at 
 their gates, he too would have one at his ! Seeing that when 
 any two of the feudal lords met in friendly conclave they had 
 an earthenware stand on which to place their inverted cups after 
 drinking, he must have the same ! If he knew the Rules of 
 Propriety, who is there that does not know them ? " 
 
 In a discourse to the Chief Preceptor of Music at the court 
 of Lu, the Master said, " Music is an inteUigible thing. When 
 you begin a performance, let all the various instruments pro- 
 duce as it were one sound (inharmonious) ; then, as you go on, 
 bring out the harmony fully, distinctly, and with uninterrupted 
 flow, unto the end." 
 
 The warden of the border-town of I requested an interview 
 with Confucius, and said, " When great men have come here, I 
 have never yet failed to obtain a sight of them." The followers 
 introduced him ; and, on leaving, he said to them, " Sirs, why 
 grieve at his loss of ofifice? The empire has for long been 
 without good government ; and Heaven is about to use your 
 master as its edict-announcer." 
 
 • A renowned statesman who flour- been written by him, is still extant. He 
 
 ished about two hundred years before was regarded as a sage by the people, 
 
 Confucius's time. A philosophical work but he lacked, in Confucius's eyes, the 
 
 en law and government, said to have one thing needful— propriety. 
 
 Vol. IV. — 2
 
 ,8 CONFUCIUS 
 
 Comparing the music of the emperor Shun with the music 
 of King Wu, the Master said, "That of Shun is beautiful 
 throughout, and also good throughout. That of Wu is all of it 
 beautiful, but scarcely all of it good." 
 
 " High station," said the Master, " occupied by men who 
 have no large and generous heart ; ceremonial performed with 
 no reverence; duties of mourning engaging the attention, 
 where there is absence of sorrow ; — how should I look on, 
 where this is the state of things ? "
 
 BOOK IV 
 Social Virtue— Superior and Inferior Man 
 
 SAYINGS of the Master :— 
 " It is social good feeling that gives charm to a 
 neighborhood. And where is the wisdom of those 
 who choose an abode where it does not abide? 
 
 " Those who are without it cannot abide long, either in strait- 
 ened or in happy circumstances. Those who possess it find 
 contentment in it. Those who are wise go after it as men go 
 after gain. 
 
 " Only they in whom it exists can have right likings and dis- 
 likings for others. 
 
 " Where the will is set upon it, there will be no room for 
 malpractices. 
 
 " Riches and honor are what men desire ; but if they arrive 
 at them by improper ways, they should not continue to hold 
 them. Poverty and low estate are what men dislike ; but if 
 they arrive at such a condition by improper ways, they should 
 not refuse it. 
 
 " If the ' superior man ' make nought of social good feel- 
 ing, how shall he fully bear that name ? 
 
 " Not even whilst he eats his meal will the ' superior man ' 
 forget what he owes to his fellow-men. Even in hurried leave- 
 takings, even in moments of frantic confusion, he keeps true to 
 this virtue. 
 
 " I have not yet seen a lover of philanthropy, nor a hater of 
 misanthropy — such, that the former did not take occasion to 
 magnify that virtue in himself, and that the latter, in his posi- 
 tive practice of philanthropy, did not, at times, allow in his 
 presence something savoring of misanthropy. 
 
 " Say you, is there any one who is able for one whole day to 
 apply the energy of his mind to this virtue? Well, I have not 
 seen any one whose energy was not equal to it. It may be 
 there are such, but I have never met with them. 
 
 19
 
 20 CONFUCIUS 
 
 " The faults of individuals are peculiar to their particular 
 class and surroundings ; and it is by observing their faults that 
 one comes to understand the condition of their good feelings 
 towards their fellows. 
 
 " One may hear the right way in the morning, and at evening 
 die. 
 
 " The scholar who is intent upon learning the right way, and 
 who is yet ashamed of poor attire and poor food, is not worthy 
 of being discoursed with. 
 
 " The masterly man's attitude to the world is not exclusively 
 this or that : whatsoever is right, to that he will be a party. 
 
 " The masterly man has an eye to virtue, the common man, to 
 earthly things ; the former has an eye to penalties for error — 
 the latter, to favor. 
 
 " Where there is habitual going after gain, there is much ill- 
 will. 
 
 " When there is ability in a ruler to govern a country by ad- 
 hering to the Rules of Propriety, and by kindly condescension, 
 what is wanted more? Where the ability to govern thus is 
 wanting, what has such a ruler to do with the Rules of Pro- 
 priety ? 
 
 " One should not be greatly concerned at not being in office ; 
 but rather about the requirements in one's self for such a stand- 
 ing. Neither should one be so much concerned at being un- 
 known ; but rather with seeking to become worthy of being 
 known." 
 
 Addressing his disciple Tsang Sin, the Master said, " Tsang 
 Sin, the principles which I inculcate have one main idea upon 
 which they all hang." " Aye, surely," he replied. 
 
 When the Master was gone out the other disciples asked 
 what was the purport of this remark. Tsang's answer was, 
 " The principles of our Master's teaching are these — whole- 
 heartedness and kindly forbearance ; these and nothing more." 
 
 Other observations of the Master : — 
 
 " Men of loftier mind manifest themselves in their equitable 
 dealings ; small-minded men in their going after gain. 
 
 " When you meet with men of worth, think how you may at- 
 tain to their level ; when you see others of an opposite char- 
 acter, look within, and examine yourself. 
 
 " A son, in ministering to his parents, may (on occasion) 
 offer gentle remonstrances ; when he sees that their will is not
 
 THE ANALECTS 21 
 
 to heed such, he should nevertheless still continue to show 
 them reverent respect, never obstinacy ; and if he have to suffer, 
 let him do so without murmuring. 
 
 " Whilst the parents are still living, he should not wander 
 far ; or, if a wanderer, he should at least have some fixed ad- 
 dress. 
 
 " If for three years he do not veer from the principles of his 
 father, he may be called a dutiful son. 
 
 " A son should not ignore the years of his parents. On the 
 one hand, they may be a matter for rejoicing (that they have 
 been so many), and on the other, for apprehension (that so few 
 remain). 
 
 " People in olden times were loth to speak out, fearing the 
 disgrace of not being themselves as good as their words. 
 
 " Those who keep within restraints are seldom losers. 
 
 " To be slow to speak, but prompt to act, is the desire of the 
 ' superior man.' 
 
 " Virtue dwells not alone : she must have neighbors." 
 
 An observation of Tsz-yu : — 
 
 " Officiousness, in the service of princes, leads to disgrace ; 
 among friends, to estrangement."
 
 BOOK V 
 A Disciple and the Golden Rule — Miscellaneous 
 
 THE Master pronounced Kung-ye Ch'ang, a disciple, to 
 be a marriageable person ; for although lying bound in 
 criminal fetters he had committed no crime. And he 
 gave him his own daughter to wife. 
 
 Of Nan Yung, a disciple, he observed, that in a State where 
 the government was well conducted he would not be passed 
 over in its appointments, and in one where the government was 
 ill conducted he would evade punishment and disgrace. And 
 he caused his elder brother's daughter to be given in marriage 
 to him. 
 
 Of Tsz-tsien, a disciple, he remarked, " A superior man in- 
 deed is the like of him ! But had there been none of superior 
 quality in Lu, how should this man have attained to this excel- 
 lence?" 
 
 Tsz-kung asked, " What of me, then? " " You," repHed the 
 Master — " You are a receptacle." " Of what sort? " said he. 
 " One for high and sacred use," was the answer. 
 
 Some one having observed of Yen Yung that he was good- 
 natured towards others, but that he lacked the gift of ready 
 speech, the Master said, " What need of that gift? To stand 
 up before men and pour forth a stream of glib words is generally 
 to make yourself obnoxious to them. I know not about his 
 good-naturedness ; but at any rate what need of that gift ? " 
 
 When the Master proposed that Tsi-tiau K'ai should enter 
 the government service, the latter replied, " I can scarcely 
 credit it." The Master was gratified. 
 
 " Good principles are making no progress," once exclaimed 
 the Master. " If I were to take a raft, and drift about on the 
 sea, would Tsz-lu, I wonder, be my follower there?" That 
 disciple was delighted at hearing the suggestion ; whereupon 
 the Master continued, " He surpasses me in his love of deeds of
 
 THE ANALECTS 
 
 23 
 
 daring. But he does not in the least grasp the pith of my 
 remark." 
 
 In reply to a question put to him by Mang Wu respecting 
 Tsz-lu — as to whether he might be called good-natured towards 
 others, the Master said, " I cannot tell "; but, on the question 
 being put again, he answered, " Well, in an important State ^" 
 he might be intrusted with the management of the military 
 levies ; but I cannot answer for his good nature." 
 
 " What say you then of Yen Yu ? " 
 
 " As for Yen," he replied, " in a city of a thousand families, or 
 in a secondary fief,^^ he might be charged with the governor- 
 ship ; but I cannot answer for his good-naturedness." 
 
 " Take Tsz-hwa, then ; what of him ? " 
 
 " Tsz-hwa," said he, " with a cincture girt upon him, standing 
 as attendant at Court, might be charged with the addressing of 
 visitors and guests ; but as to his good-naturedness I cannot 
 answer." 
 
 Addressing Tsz-kung, the Master said, " Which of the two 
 is ahead of the other — yourself or Hwui ? " " How shall I 
 dare," he replied, " even to look at Hwui? Only let him hear 
 one particular, and from that he knows ten ; whereas I, if I hear 
 one, may from it know two." 
 
 " You are not a match for him, I grant you," said the Master. 
 " You are not his match." 
 
 Tsai Yu, a disciple, used to sleep in the daytime. Said the 
 Master, " One may hardly carve rotten wood, or use a trowel 
 to the wall of a manure-yard ! In his case, what is the use of 
 reprimand ? 
 
 " My attitude towards a man in my first dealings with him," 
 he added, " was to listen to his professions and to trust to his 
 conduct. My attitude now is to listen to his professions, and to 
 watch his conduct. My experience with Tsai Yu has led to 
 this change. 
 
 " I have never seen," said the Master, " a man of inflexible 
 firmness." Some one thereupon mentioned Shin Ch'ang, a dis- 
 ciple. " Ch'ang," said he, " is wanton ; where do you get at 
 his inflexibleness ? " 
 
 Tsz-kung made the remark : " That which I do not wish 
 others to put upon me, I also wish not to put upon others." 
 " Nay," said the Master, " you have not got so far as that." 
 
 '" Lit., a State of 1,000 war chariots. " Lit., a House of 100 war chariots.
 
 24 CONFUCIUS 
 
 The same disciple once remarked, " There may be access so 
 as to hear the Master's Hterary discourses, but when he is treat- 
 ing of human nature and the way of Heaven, there may not be 
 such success." 
 
 Tsz-lu, after once hearing him upon some subject, and feel- 
 ing himself as yet incompetent to carry into practice what he 
 had heard, used to be apprehensive only lest he should hear the 
 subject revived. 
 
 Tsz-kung asked how it was that Kung Wan had come to be 
 so styled Wan (the talented). The Master's answer was, 
 " Because, though a man of an active nature, he was yet fond 
 of study, and he was not ashamed to stoop to put questions to 
 his inferiors." 
 
 Respecting Tsz-ch'an/- the Master said that he had four of 
 the essential qualities of the ' superior man ' : — in his own pri- 
 vate walk he was humble-minded ; in serving his superiors he 
 was deferential ; in his looking after the material welfare of the 
 people he was generously kind ; and in his exaction of public 
 service from the latter he was just. 
 
 Speaking of Yen Ping, he said, " He was one who was happy 
 in his mode of attaching men to him. However long the inter- 
 course, he was always deferential to them." 
 
 Referring to Tsang Wan, he asked, " What is to be said of 
 this man's discernment? — this man with his tortoise-house, 
 with the pillar-heads and posts bedizened with scenes of hill and 
 mere ! " 
 
 Tsz-chang put a question relative to the chief Minister of 
 Tsu, Tsz-wan. He said, " Three times he became chief Min- 
 ister, and on none of these occasions did he betray any sign of 
 exultation. Three times his ministry came to an end, and he 
 showed no sign of chagrin. He used without fail to inform the 
 new Minister as to the old mode of administration. What say 
 you of him ? " 
 
 " That he was a loyal man," said the Master. 
 
 " But was he a man of fellow-feeling? " said the disciple. 
 
 " Of that I am not sure," he answered ; " how am I to get at 
 that?" 
 
 The disciple went on to say : — " After the assassination of 
 the prince of Ts'i by the ofHcer Ts'ui, the latter's fellow-ofificial 
 Ch'in Wan, who had half a score teams of horses, gave up all, 
 
 '* A great statesman of Confucius's time.
 
 THE ANALECTS 
 
 25 
 
 and turned his back upon him. On coming to another State, 
 he observed, ' There are here characters somewhat hke that of 
 our minister Ts'ui,' and he turned his back upon them. Pro- 
 ceeding to a certain other State, he had occasion to make the 
 same remark, and left. What say you of him ? " 
 
 " That he was a pure-minded man," answered the Master. 
 
 " But was he a man of fellow-feeHng? " urged the disciple. 
 
 " Of that I am not sure," he replied ; " how am I to get at 
 that?" 
 
 Ki Wan was one who thought three times over a thing before 
 he acted. The Master hearing this of him, observed, " Twice 
 would have been enough." 
 
 Of Ning Wu, the Master said that when matters went well in 
 the State he used to have his w its about him : but when they 
 went wrong, he lost them. His intelligence might be equalled, 
 but not his witlessness ! 
 
 Once, when the Master lived in the State of Ch'in, he ex- 
 claimed, " Let me get home again ! Let me get home ! My 
 school-children^^ are wild and impetuous! Though they are 
 somewhat accomplished, and perfect in one sense in their at- 
 tainments, yet they know not how to make nice discrimina- 
 tions." 
 
 Of Peh-I and Shuh Ts'i he said, " By the fact of their not re- 
 membering old grievances, they gradually did away with re- 
 sentment." 
 
 Of Wei-shang Kau he said, " Who calls him straightfor- 
 ward? A person once begged some vinegar of him, and he 
 begged it from a neighbor, and then presented him with it ! " 
 
 " Fine speech," said he, " and studied mien, and superfluous 
 show of deference — of such things Tso-k'iu Ming was 
 ashamed. I too am ashamed of such things. Also of hiding 
 resentment felt towards an opponent and treating him as a 
 friend — of this kind of thing he was ashamed, and so too am L" 
 
 Attended once by the two disciples Yen Yuen and Tsz-lu, he 
 said, " Come now, why not tell me, each of you, what in your 
 hearts you are really after? " 
 
 " I should like," said Tsz-lu, " for myself and my friends and 
 associates, carriages and horses, and to be clad in light furs ! 
 nor would I mind much if they should become the worse for 
 wear." 
 
 " A familiar way of speaking of hia disciples in their hearing.
 
 26 CONFUCIUS 
 
 " And I should like," said Yen Yuen, " to live without boast- 
 ing of my abilities, and without display of meritorious deeds." 
 
 Tsz-lu then said, " I should Hke, sir, to hear what your heart 
 is set upon." 
 
 The Master replied, " It is this : — in regard to old people, to 
 give them quiet and comfort ; in regard to friends and associ- 
 ates, to be faithful to them ; in regard to the young, to treat 
 them with fostering afifection and kindness." 
 
 On one occasion the Master exclaimed, " Ah, 'tis hopeless ! 
 I have not yet seen the man who can see his errors, so as in- 
 wardly to accuse himself." 
 
 " In a small cluster of houses there may well be," said he, 
 " some whose integrity and sincerity may compare with mine ; 
 but I yield to none in point of love of learning."
 
 BOOK VI 
 More Characteristics — Wisdom — Philanthropy 
 
 OF Yen Yung, a disciple, the Master said, " Yung might 
 indeed do for a prince ! " 
 
 On being asked by this Yen Yung his opinion of a 
 certain individual, the Master rephed, " He is passable. Im- 
 petuous, though." 
 
 " But," argued the disciple, " if a man habituate himself to a 
 reverent regard for duty — even while in his way of doing things 
 he is impetuous — in the oversight of the people committed to 
 his charge, is he not passable ? If, on the other hand, he habitu- 
 ate himself to impetuosity of mind, and show it also in his way 
 of doing things, is he not then over-impetuous ? " 
 
 " You are right," said the Master. 
 
 When the Duke Ngai inquired which of the disciples were 
 devoted to learning, Confucius answered him, " There was one 
 Yen Hwui who loved it — a man whose angry feelings towards 
 any particular person he did not sufifer to visit upon another ; a 
 man who would never fall into the same error twice. Un- 
 fortunately his allotted time was short, and he died, and now 
 his like is not to be found ; I have never heard of one so de- 
 voted to learning." 
 
 While Tsz-hwa, a disciple, was away on a mission to Ts'i, the 
 disciple Yen Yu, on behalf of his mother, applied for some 
 grain. " Give her three pecks," said the Master. He applied 
 for more. " Give her eight, then." Yen gave her fifty times 
 that amount. The Master said, " When Tsz-hwa went on that 
 journey to Ts'i, he had well-fed steeds yoked to his carriage, 
 and was arrayed in light furs. I have learnt that the ' superior 
 man ' should help those whose needs are urgent, not help the 
 rich to be more rich." 
 
 When Yuen Sz became prefect under him, he gave him nine 
 hundred measures of grain, but the prefect declined to accept 
 
 27
 
 28 CONFUCIUS 
 
 them.^* " You must not," said the Master. " May they not 
 be of use to the villages and hamlets around you ? " 
 
 Speaking of Yen Yung again, the Master said, " If the off- 
 spring of a speckled ox be red in color, and horned, even though 
 men may not wish to take it for sacrifice, would the spirits of 
 the hills and streams reject it ? " 
 
 Adverting to Hwiii again, he said, " For three months there 
 would not be in his breast one thought recalcitrant against his 
 feeling of good- will towards his fellow-men. The others may 
 attain to this for a day or for a month, but there they end." 
 
 When asked by Ki K'ang whether Tsz-lu was fit to serve the 
 government, the Master replied, " Tsz-lu is a man of decision: 
 what should prevent him from serving the government ? " 
 
 Asked the same question respecting Tsz-kung and Yen Yu 
 he answered similarly, pronouncing Tsz-kung to be a man of 
 perspicacity, and Yen Yu to be one versed in the polite arts. 
 
 When the head of the Ki family sent for Min Tsz-k*ien to 
 make him governor of the town of Pi, that disciple said, " Po- 
 litely decline for me. If the offer is renewed, then indeed I 
 shall feel myself obliged to go and live on the further bank of 
 the Wan." 
 
 Peh-niu had fallen ill, and the Master was inquiring after 
 him. Taking hold of his hand held out from the window, he 
 said, " It is taking him off ! Alas, his appointed time has 
 come ! Such a man, and to have such an illness ! " 
 
 Of Hwui, again : " A right worthy man indeed was he ! 
 With his simple wooden dish of rice, and his one gourd-basin of 
 drink, away in his poor back lane, in a condition too grievous 
 for others to have endured, he never allowed his cheery spirits 
 to droop. Aye, a right worthy soul was he ! " 
 
 " It is not," Yen Yu once apologized, " that I do not take 
 pleasure in your doctrines ; it is that I am not strong enough." 
 The Master rejoined, " It is when those who are not strong 
 enough have made some moderate amount of progress that they 
 fail and give up ; but you are now drawing your own line for 
 yourself." 
 
 Addressing Tsz-hia, the Master said, " Let your scholarship 
 be that of gentlemen, and not like that of common men." 
 
 When Tsz-yu became governor of Wu-shing, the Master 
 
 '* At this time Confucius was Crim- commentators add that this was the 
 inal Judge in his native State of Lu. officer's proper salary, and that he did 
 Yuen Sz had been a disciple. The wrong to refuse it.
 
 THE ANALECTS tg 
 
 said to him, " Do you find good men about you? " The reply 
 was, " There is Tan-t'ai Mieh-ming, who when walking es- 
 chews by-paths, and who, unless there be some public function, 
 never approaches my private residence." 
 
 " Mang Chi-fan," said the Master, " is no sounder of his own 
 praises. During a stampede he was in the rear, and as they 
 were about to enter the city gate he whipped up his horses, and 
 said, ' 'Twas not my daring made me lag behind. My horses 
 would not go.' " 
 
 Obiter dicta of the Master : — 
 
 " Whoever has not the glib utterance of the priest T*o, as 
 well as the handsomeness of Prince Chau of Sung, will find it 
 hard to keep out of harm's way in the present age. 
 
 " Who can go out but by that door? Why walks no one by 
 these guiding principles? 
 
 " Where plain naturalness is more in evidence than polish, 
 we have — the man from the country. Where polish is more in 
 evidence than naturalness, we have — the town scribe. It is 
 when naturalness and polish are equally evident that we have 
 the ideal man. 
 
 " The life of a man is — his rectitude. Life without it — such 
 may you have the good fortune to avoid ! 
 
 " They who know it are not as those who love it, nor they who 
 love it as those who rejoice in it — that is, have the fruition of 
 their love for it. 
 
 " To the average man, and those above the average, it is 
 possible to discourse on higher subjects ; to those from the 
 average downwards, it is not possible." 
 
 Fan Ch'i put a query about wisdom. The Master replied, 
 " To labor for the promoting of righteous conduct among the 
 people of the land ; to be serious in regard to spiritual beings, 
 and to hold aloof from them ; — this may be called wisdom." 
 
 To a further query, about philanthropy, he replied, " Those 
 who possess that virtue find difficulty with it at first, success 
 later. 
 
 " Men of practical knowledge," he said, " find their gratifi- 
 cation among the rivers of the lowland, men of sympathetic 
 social feeling find theirs among the hills. The former are 
 active and bustling, the latter calm and quiet. The former take 
 their day of pleasure, the latter look to length of days." 
 
 Alluding to the States of Ts'i and Lu, he observed, that Ts'i,
 
 3° 
 
 CONFUCIUS 
 
 by one change, might attain to the condition of Lu ; and that 
 Lu, by one change, might attain to good government. 
 
 An exclamation of the Master (satirizing the times, when old 
 terms relating to government were still used while bereft of 
 their old meaning) : — " A quart, and not a quart ! quart, indeed ! 
 quart, indeed ! " 
 
 Tsai Wo, a disciple, put a query. Said he, " Suppose a 
 philanthropic person were told, ' There's a fellow-creature down 
 in the well ! ' Would he go down after him ? " 
 
 "Why should he really do so?" answered the Master. 
 " The good man or, a superior man might be induced to go, 
 but not to go down. He may be misled, but not befooled." 
 
 " The superior man," said he, " with his wide study of books, 
 and hedging himself round by the Rules of Propriety, is not 
 surely, after all that, capable of overstepping his bounds." 
 
 Once when the Master had had an interview with Nan-tsz, 
 which had scandalized his disciple Tsz-lu, he uttered the solemn 
 adjuration, " If I have done aught amiss, may Heaven reject 
 me ! may Heaven reject me ! " 
 
 " How far-reaching," said he, " is the moral excellence that 
 flows from the Constant Mean!^° It has for a long time been 
 rare among the people." 
 
 Tsz-kung said, " Suppose the case of one who confers bene- 
 fits far and wide upon the people, and who can, in so doing, 
 make his bounty universally felt — how would you speak of 
 him ? Might he be called philanthropic ? " 
 
 The Master exclaimed, " What a work for philanthropy ! He 
 would require indeed to be a sage ! He would put into shade 
 even Yau and Shun ! — Well, a philanthropic person, desiring 
 for himself a firm footing, is led on to give one to others ; desir- 
 ing for himself an enlightened perception of things, he is led on 
 to help others to be similarly enlightened. If one could take 
 an illustration coming closer home to us than yours, that might 
 be made the starting-point for speaking about philanthropy." 
 
 '' The doctrine afterwards known by that name, and which gave its title to 
 a Confucian treatise.
 
 BOOK VII 
 Characteristics of Confucius — An Incident 
 
 SAID the Master :— 
 " I, as a transmitter^'' and not an originator, and as 
 one who beUeves in and loves the ancients, venture to 
 compare myself with our old P'ang. 
 
 " What find you indeed in me ? — a quiet brooder and memo- 
 rizer; a student never satiated with learning; an unwearied 
 monitor of others ! 
 
 " The things which weigh heavily upon my mind are these — 
 failure to improve in the virtues, failure in discussion of what is 
 learnt, inability to walk according to knowledge received as to 
 what is right and just, inability also to reform what has been 
 amiss." 
 
 In his hours of recreation and refreshment the Master's man- 
 ner was easy and unconstrained, affable and winning. 
 
 Once he exclaimed, " Alas ! I must be getting very feeble ; 
 'tis long since I have had a repetition of the dreams in which 
 I used to see the Duke of Chow.^^ 
 
 " Concentrate the mind," said he, " upon the Good Way. 
 
 " Maintain firm hold upon Virtue. 
 
 " Rely upon Philanthropy. 
 
 " Find recreation in the Arts.^^ 
 
 " I have never withheld instruction from any, even from 
 those who have come for it with the smallest offering. 
 
 " No subject do I broach, however, to those who have no 
 eager desire to learn ; no encouraging hint do I give to those 
 who show no anxiety to speak out their ideas ; nor have I any- 
 
 ^* In reference to his editing the six Confucius's life to restore the country 
 
 Classics of his time. to the condition in which the Duke of 
 
 " This was one of his " beloved an- Chow left it. 
 cients," famous for what he did in help- '^ fi^gse were six in number, viz.: 
 ing to found the dynasty of Chow, a Ceremonial, Music, Archery, Horse- 
 man of great political wisdom, a scholar manship. Language, and Calculation, 
 also, and poet. It was the " dream " of 
 
 31
 
 32 CONFUCIUS 
 
 thing more to say to those who, after I have made clear one 
 corner of the subject, cannot from that give me the other 
 three." 
 
 If the Master was taking a meal, and there were any in 
 mourning beside him, he would not eat to the full. 
 
 On one day on which he had wept, on that day he would not 
 sing. 
 
 Addressing his favorite disciple, he said, " To you only and 
 myself it has been given to do this — to go when called to serve, 
 and to go back into quiet retirement when released from office." 
 
 Tsz-lu, hearing the remark said, " But if, sir, you had the 
 handling of the army of one of the greater States,^^ whom would 
 you have associated with you in that case ? " 
 
 The Master answered : — 
 
 " Not the one ' who'll rouse the tiger,' 
 Not the one ' who'll wade the Ho; * 
 
 not the man who can die with no regret. He must be one who 
 should watch over affairs with apprehensive caution, a man 
 fond of strategy, and of perfect skill and effectiveness in it." 
 
 As to wealth, he remarked, " If wealth were an object that I 
 could go in quest of, I should do so even if I had to take a whip 
 and do grooms' work. But seeing that it is not, I go after 
 those objects for which I have a liking." 
 
 Among matters over which he exercised great caution were 
 times of fasting, war, and sickness. 
 
 When he was in the State of Ts'i, and had heard the ancient 
 Shau music, he lost all perception of the taste of his meat. " 1 
 had no idea," said he, " that music could have been brought to 
 this pitch." 
 
 In the course of conversation Yen Yu said, " Does the Mas- 
 ter take the part of the Prince of Wei ? " " Ah yes ! " said Tsz- 
 kung, " I will go and ask him that." 
 
 On going in to him, that disciple began, " What sort of men 
 were Peh-I and Shuh Ts'i? " " Worthies of the olden time," 
 the Master replied. " Had they any feelings of resentment? " 
 was the next question. " Their aim and object," he answered, 
 " was that of doing the duty which every man owes to his fel- 
 lows, and they succeeded in doing it ; — what room further for 
 
 '» Lit., three forces. Each force consisted of 12,500 men, and three of such 
 forces were the equipment of a greater State.
 
 THE ANALECTS 33 
 
 feelings of resentment? " The questioner on coming out said, 
 ** The Master does not take his part." 
 
 " With a meal of coarse rice," said the Master, " and with 
 water to drink, and my bent arm for my pillow — even thus I can 
 find happiness. Riches and honors without righteousness are 
 to me as fleeting clouds." 
 
 " Give me several years more to live," said he, " and after 
 fifty years' study of the ' Book of Changes ' I might come to be 
 free from serious error." 
 
 The Master's regular subjects of discourse were the " Books 
 of the Odes " and " History," and the up-keeping of the Rules 
 of Propriety. On all of these he regularly discoursed. 
 
 The Duke of Shih questioned Tsz-lu about Confucius, and 
 the latter did not answer. 
 
 Hearing of this, the Master said, " Why did you not say, 
 He is a man with a mind so intent on his pursuits that he for- 
 gets his food, and finds such pleasure in them that he forgets 
 his troubles, and does not know that old age is coming upon 
 him?" 
 
 " As I came not into life with any knowledge of it," he said, 
 " and as my likings are for what is old, I busy myself in seeking 
 knowledge there." 
 
 Strange occurrences, exploits of strength, deeds of lawless- 
 ness, references to spiritual beings — such-like matters the Mas- 
 ter avoided in conversation. 
 
 " Let there," he said, " be three men walking together: from 
 that number I should be sure to find my instructors ; for what 
 is good in them I should choose out and follow, and what is 
 not good I should modify." 
 
 On one occasion he exclaimed, " Heaven begat Virtue in me ; 
 what can man do unto me? " 
 
 To his disciples he once said, " Do you look upon me, my 
 sons, as keeping anything secret from you? I hide nothing 
 from you. I do nothing that is not manifest to your eyes, my 
 disciples. That is so with me." 
 
 Four things there were which he kept in view in his teaching 
 — scholarliness, conduct of life, honesty, faithfulness. 
 
 " It is not given to me," he said, " to meet with a sage ; let 
 
 me but behold a man of superior mind, and that will suffice. 
 
 Neither is it given to me to meet with a good man ; let me but 
 
 see a man of constancy, and it will suffice. It is difficult for per- 
 
 VOL. IV.— 3
 
 34 CONFUCIUS 
 
 sons to have constancy, when they pretend to have that which 
 they are destitute of, to be full when they are empty, to do 
 things on a grand scale when their means are contracted ! " 
 
 When the Master fished with hook and line, he did not also 
 use a net. When out with his bow, he would never shoot at 
 game in cover. 
 
 " Some there may be," said he, " who do things in ignorance 
 of what they do. I am not of these. There is an alternative 
 way of knowing things, viz. — to sift out the good from the 
 many things one hears, and follow it ; and to keep in memory 
 the many things one sees." 
 
 Pupils from Hu-hiang were difficult to speak with. One 
 youth came to interview the Master, and the disciples were in 
 doubt whether he ought to have been seen. " Why so much 
 ado," said the Master, " at my merely permitting his approach, 
 and not rather at my allowing him to draw back? If a man 
 have cleansed himself in order to come and see me, I receive 
 him as such ; but I do not undertake for what he will do when 
 he goes away." 
 
 " Is the philanthropic spirit far to seek, indeed? " the Master 
 exclaimed ; "I wish for it, and it is with me ! " 
 
 The Minister of Crime in the State of Ch'in asked Confucius 
 whether Duke Ch'au, of Lu was acquainted with the Proprie- 
 ties ; and he answered, " Yes, he knows them." 
 
 When Confucius had withdrawn, the minister bowed to 
 Wu-ma K'i, a disciple, and motioned to him to come forward. 
 He said, " I have heard that superior men show no partiality ; 
 are they, too, then, partial ? That prince took for his wife a lady 
 of the Wu family, having the same surname as himself, and 
 had her named ' Lady Tsz of Wu, the elder.' If he knows the 
 Proprieties, then who does not ? " 
 
 The disciple reported this to the Master, who thereupon re- 
 marked, " Well for me ! If I err in any way, others are sure to 
 know of it." 
 
 When the Master was in company with any one who sang, 
 and who sang well, he must needs have the song over again, and 
 after that would join in it. 
 
 " Although in letters," he said, " I may have none to compare 
 with me, yet in my personification of the ' superior man ' I have 
 not as yet been successful." 
 
 " 'A Sage and a Philanthropist ? ' How should I have the
 
 THE ANALECTS 35 
 
 ambition ? " said he. " All that I can well be called is this — 
 An insatiable student, an unwearied teacher ; — this, and no 
 more." — " Exactly what we, your disciples, cannot by anv 
 learning manage to be," said Kung-si Hwa. 
 
 Once when the Master was seriously ill, Tsz-lu requested to 
 be allowed to say prayers for him. "Are such available?" 
 asked the Master. " Yes," said he ; " and the Manual of 
 Prayers says, ' Pray to the spirits above and to those here 
 below.' " 
 
 " My praying has been going on a long while," said the 
 Master. 
 
 " Lavish living," he said, " renders men disorderly ; miserli- 
 ness makes them hard. Better, however, the hard than the 
 disorderly." 
 
 Again, " The man of superior mind is placidly composed ; 
 the small-minded man is in a constant state of perturbation." 
 
 The Master was gentle, yet could be severe ; had an over- 
 awing presence, yet was not violent ; was deferential, yet easy.
 
 BOOK VIII 
 Sayings of Tsang — Sentences of the Master 
 
 SPEAKING of T'ai-pih the Master said that he might be 
 pronounced a man of the highest moral excellence ; for 
 he allowed the empire to pass by him onwards to a third 
 heir ; while the people, in their ignorance of his motives, were 
 unable to admire him for so doing. 
 
 " Without the Proprieties," said the Master, " we have these 
 results : for deferential demeanor, a worried one ; for calm at- 
 tentiveness, awkward bashfulness ; for manly conduct, disor- 
 derliness ; for straightforwardness, perversity. 
 
 " When men of rank show genuine care for those nearest to 
 them in blood, the people rise to the duty of neighborliness and 
 sociability. And when old friendships among them are not 
 allowed to fall off, there will be a cessation of underhand prac- 
 tices among the people." 
 
 The Scholar Tsang was once unwell, and calling his pupils 
 to him he said to them, " Disclose to view my feet and my 
 hands. What says the Ode? — 
 
 ' Act as from a sense of danger. 
 With precaution and with care, 
 As a yawning gulf o'erlooking, 
 As on ice that scarce will bear.' 
 
 At all times, my children, I know how to keep myself free from 
 bodily harm." 
 
 Again, during an illness of his, Mang King, an official, went 
 to ask after him. The Scholar had some conversation with 
 him, in the course of which he said — 
 
 " ' Doleful the cries of a dying bird. 
 
 Good the last words of a dying man.' 
 36
 
 THE ANALECTS 37 
 
 There are three points which a man of rank in the manage- 
 ment of his duties should set store upon : — A Hvely manner 
 and deportment, banishing- both severity and laxity; a frank 
 and open expression of countenance, allied closely with sin- 
 cerity ; and a tone in his utterances utterly free from any ap- 
 proach to vulgarity and impropriety. As to matters of bowls 
 and dishes, leave such things to those who are charged with the 
 care of them," 
 
 Another saying of the Scholar Tsang : " I once had a friend 
 who, though he possessed ability, would go questioning men of 
 none, and, though surrounded by numbers, would go with his 
 questions to isolated individuals ; who also, whatever he might 
 have, appeared as if he were without it, and, with all his sub- 
 stantial acquirements, made as though his mind were a mere 
 blank ; and when insulted would not retaliate ; — this was ever 
 his way." 
 
 Again he said : *' The man that is capable of being intrusted 
 with the charge of a minor on the throne, and given authority 
 over a large territory, and who, during the important term of 
 his superintendence cannot be forced out of his position, is 
 not such a ' superior man ' ? That he is, indeed." 
 
 Again : — " The learned official must not be without breadth 
 and power of endurance : the burden is heavy, and the way is 
 long. 
 
 " Suppose that he take his duty to his fellow-men as his 
 peculiar burden, is that not indeed a heavy one? And since 
 only with death it is done with, is not the way long? " 
 
 Sentences of the Master : — 
 
 " From the 'Book of Odes ' we receive impulses ; from the 
 ' Book of the Rules,' stability ; from the * Book on Music,' re- 
 finement.^'' 
 
 " The people may be put into the way they should go, though 
 they may not be put into the way of understanding it. 
 
 " The man who likes bravery, and yet groans under poverty, 
 has mischief in him. So, too, has the misanthrope, groaning 
 at any severity shown towards him. 
 
 " Even if a person were adorned with the gifts of the Duke of 
 Chow, yet if he were proud and avaricious, all the rest of his 
 qualities would not indeed be worth looking at. 
 
 * Comparison of three of the Classics: the " Shi-King," the " Li Ki," and the 
 " Yoh." The last is lost.
 
 38 CONFUCIUS 
 
 " Not easily found is the man who, after three years' study, 
 has failed to come upon some fruit of his toil. 
 
 " The really faithful lover of learning holds fast to the Good 
 Way till death. 
 
 " He will not go into a State in which a downfall is imminent, 
 nor take up his abode in one where disorder reigns. When the 
 empire is well ordered he will show himself; when not, he will 
 hide himself away. Under a good government it will be a dis- 
 grace to him if he remain in poverty and low estate ; under a 
 bad one, it would be equally disgraceful to him to hold riches 
 and honors. 
 
 " If not occupying the office, devise not the policy. 
 
 " When the professor Chi began his duties, how grand the 
 finale of the First of the Odes used to be ! How it rang in one's 
 ears! 
 
 " I cannot understand persons who are enthusiastic and yet 
 not straightforward ; nor those who are ignorant and yet not 
 attentive ; nor again those folks who are simple-minded and yet 
 untrue. 
 
 " Learn, as if never overtaking your object, and yet as if 
 apprehensive of losing it. 
 
 " How subHme was the handling of the empire by Shun and 
 Yu ! — it was as nothing to them ! 
 
 " How great was Yau as a prince ! Was he not sublime ! 
 Say that Heaven only is great, then was Yau alone after its 
 pattern ! How profound was he ! The people could not find 
 a name for him. How sublime in his achievements ! How 
 brilliant in his scholarly productions ! " 
 
 Shun had for his ministers five men, by whom he ordered the 
 empire. 
 
 King Wu (in his day) stated that he had ten men as assistants 
 for the promotion of order. 
 
 With reference to these facts Confucius observed, " Ability is 
 hard to find. Is it not so indeed? During the three years' 
 interregnum between Yau and Shun there was more of it than 
 in the interval before this present dynasty appeared. There 
 were, at this latter period, one woman, and nine men only. 
 
 " When two-thirds of the empire were held by King Wan, he 
 served with that portion the House of Yin. We speak of the 
 virtue of the House of Chow ; we may say, indeed, that it 
 reached the pinnacle of excellence."
 
 THE ANALECTS 
 
 39 
 
 " As to Yu," added the Master, " I can find no flaw in him. 
 Living on meagre food and drink ; yet providing to the utmost 
 in his fihal offerings to the spirits of the dead ! Dressing in 
 coarse garments ; yet most elegant when vested in his sacrificial 
 apron and coronet ! Dwelling in a poor palace ; yet exhaust- 
 ing his energies over those boundary-ditches and watercourses ! 
 I can find no flaw in Yu."
 
 BOOK IX 
 His Favorite Disciple's Opinion of Him 
 
 TOPICS on which the Master rarely spoke were — Advan- 
 tage, and Destiny, and Duty of man to man. 
 
 A man of the village of Tah-hiang exclaimed of him, 
 " A great man is Confucius ! — a man of extensive learning, and 
 yet in nothing has he quite made himself a name ! " 
 
 The Master heard of this, and mentioning it to his disciples 
 he said, " What then shall I take in hand ? Shall I become a 
 carriage driver, or an archer ? Let me be a driver ! " 
 
 " The sacrificial cap," he once said, " should, according to the 
 Rules, be of linen ; but in these days it is of pure silk. How- 
 ever, as it is economical, I do as all do. 
 
 '* The Rule says, * Make your bow when at the lower end of 
 the hall ' ; but nowadays the bowing is done at the upper part. 
 This is great freedom ; and I, though I go in opposition to the 
 crowd, bow when at the lower end." 
 
 The Master barred four words : — he would have no " shall's," 
 no " must's," no " certainly's," no " Fs." 
 
 Once, in the town of K'wang fearing that his life was going 
 to be taken, the Master exclaimed, " King Wan is dead and 
 gone; but is not ' wan'^'^ with you here? If Heaven be about 
 to allow this ' zvan ' to perish, then they who survive its decease 
 will get no benefit from it. But so long as Heaven does not 
 allow it to perish, what can the men of K'wang do to me? " 
 
 A high State ofificial, after questioning Tsz-kung, said, 
 " Your Master is a sage, then ? How many and what varied 
 abilities must be his ! " 
 
 The disciple replied, " Certainly Heaven is allowing him full 
 
 *i " Wan " was the honorary appella- tial talent — the latter being the hon- 
 
 tion of the great sage and ruler, whose orary title of his son and successor, 
 
 praise is in the " Shi-King " as one of " Wan " also often stands for literature, 
 
 the founders of the Chow dynasty, and and polite accomplishments. Here Con- 
 
 the term represented civic talent and fucius simply means, " If you kill me, 
 
 virtues, as distinct from Wu, the mar- you kill a sage." 
 
 40
 
 THE ANALECTS 41 
 
 Opportunities of becoming a sage, in addition to tlic fact that 
 his abilities are many and varied." 
 
 When the Master heard of this he remarked, " Does that high 
 official know me? In my early years my position in life was 
 low, and hence my ability in many ways, though exercised in 
 trifling matters. In the gentleman is there indeed such variety 
 of ability? No." 
 
 From this, the disciple Lau used to say, " 'Twas a saying of 
 the Master : ' At a time when I was not called upon to use them, 
 I acquired my proficiency in the polite arts.' " 
 
 " Am I, indeed," said the Master, " possessed of knowledge? 
 I know nothing. Let a vulgar fellow come to me with a ques- 
 tion — a man with an emptyish head — I may thrash out with 
 him the matter from end to end, and exhaust myself in doing 
 it!" 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed he once, " the phoenix does not come ! 
 and no symbols issue from the river ! May I not as well give 
 up?" 
 
 Whenever the Master met with a person in mourning, or 
 with one in full-dress cap and kirtle, or with a blind person, al- 
 though they might be young persons, he would make a point 
 of rising on their appearance, or, if crossing their path, would 
 do so with quickened step ! 
 
 Once Yen Yuen exclaimed with a sigh (with reference to the 
 Master's doctrines), " If I look up to them, they are ever the 
 higher ; if I try to penetrate them, they are ever the harder ; if 
 I gaze at them as if before my eyes, lo, they are behind me ! — 
 Gradually and gently the Master with skill lures men on. By 
 literary lore he gave me breadth ; by the Rules of Propriety he 
 narrowed me down. When I desire a respite, I find it impos- 
 sible ; and after I have exhausted my powers, there seems to 
 be something standing straight up in front of me, and though I 
 have the mind to make towards it I make no advance at all." 
 
 Once when the Master was seriously ill, Tsz-lu induced the 
 other disciples to feign they were high officials acting in his 
 service. During a respite from his malady the Master ex- 
 claimed, "Ah! how long has Tsz-lu's conduct been false? 
 Whom should I delude, if I were to pretend to have officials 
 under me, having none? Should I deceive Heaven? Besides, 
 were I to die, I would rather die in the hands of yourselves, my 
 disciples, than in the hands of officials. And though I should
 
 42 CONFUCIUS 
 
 fail to have a grand funeral over me, I should hardly be left on 
 my death on the public highway, should I ? " 
 
 Tsz-kung once said to him, " Here is a fine gem. Would 
 you guard it carefully in a casket and store it away, or seek a 
 good price for it and sell it? " " Sell it, indeed," said the Mas- 
 ter — " that would I ; but I should wait for the bidder." 
 
 The Master protested he would " go and live among the nine 
 wild tribes." 
 
 " A rude life," said some one; — " how could you put up with 
 it?" 
 
 " What rudeness would there be," he repHed, " if a * superior 
 man ' was living in their midst ? " 
 
 Once he remarked, " After I came back from Wei to Lu the 
 music was put right, and each of the Festal Odes and Hymns 
 was given its appropriate place and use." 
 
 " Ah ! which one of these following," he asked on one occa- 
 sion, " are to be found exemplified in me — proper service ren- 
 dered to superiors when abroad ; duty to father and elder 
 brother when at home; duty that shrinks from no exertion 
 when dear ones die ; and keeping free from the confusing 
 effects of wine ? " 
 
 Standing once on the bank of a mountain stream, he said 
 (musingly), " Like this are those that pass away — no cessation, 
 day or night ! " 
 
 Other sayings : — 
 
 " Take an illustration from the making of a hill. A simple 
 basketful is wanting to complete it, and the work stops. So I 
 stop short. 
 
 " Take an illustration from the levelling of the ground. 
 Suppose again just one basketful is left, when the work has so 
 progressed. There I desist ! 
 
 " Ah ! it was Hwui, was it not? who, when I had given hini 
 his lesson, was the unflagging one ! 
 
 " Alas for Hwui ! I saw him ever making progress. I never 
 saw him stopping short. 
 
 " Blade, but no bloom — or else bloom, but no produce; aye, 
 that is the way with some ! 
 
 " Reverent regard is due to youth. How know we what dif- 
 ference there may be in them in the future from what they are 
 now? Yet when they have reached the age of forty or fifty, 
 and are still unknown in the world, then indeed they are no 
 more worthy of such regard.
 
 THE ANALECTS 43 
 
 " Can any do otherwise than assent to words said to them by 
 way of correction ? Only let them reform by such advice, and 
 it will then be reckoned valuable. Can any be other than 
 pleased with words of gentle suasion ? Only let them comply 
 with them fully, and such also will be accounted valuable. 
 With those who are pleased without so complying, and those 
 who assent but do not reform, I can do nothing at all. 
 
 " Give prominent place to loyalty and sincerity. 
 
 " Have no associates in study who are not advanced some- 
 what like yourself. 
 
 " When you have erred, be not afraid to correct yourself. 
 
 " It may be possible to seize and carry ofif the chief com- 
 mander of a large army, but not possible so to rob one poor fel- 
 low of his w\\\. 
 
 " One who stands — clad in hempen robe, the worse for wear 
 — among others clad in furs of fox and badger, and yet una- 
 bashed — 'tis Tsz-lu, that, is it not ? " 
 
 Tsz-lu used always to be humming over the lines — 
 
 " From envy and enmity free, 
 What deed doth he other than good?" 
 
 " How should such a rule of life," asked the Master, " be 
 sufiticient to make any one good ? " 
 
 " When the year grows chilly, we know the pine and cypress 
 are the last to fade. 
 
 " The wise escape doubt ; the good-hearted, trouble ; the 
 bold, apprehension. 
 
 " Some may study side by side, and yet be asunder when they 
 come to the logic of things. Some may go on together in this 
 latter course, but be wide apart in the standards they reach in 
 it. Some, again, may together reach the same standard, and 
 yet be diverse in weight of character." 
 
 " The blossom is out on the cherry tree, 
 With a flutter on every spray. 
 Dost think that my thoughts go not out to thee? 
 Ah, why art thou far aviray ! " 
 
 Commenting on these lines the Master said. " There can 
 hardly have been much ' thought going out.' What does dis- 
 tance signify ? "
 
 BOOK X 
 Confucius in Private and Official Life 
 
 IN his own village, Confucius presented a somewhat plain 
 and simple appearance, and looked unlike a man who pos- 
 sessed ability of speech. 
 
 But in the ancestral temple, and at Court, he spoke with the 
 fluency and accuracy of a debater, but ever guardedly. 
 
 At Court, conversing with the lower order of great officials, 
 he spoke somewhat firmly and directly ; with those of the higher 
 order his tone was somewhat more afifable. 
 
 When the prince was present he was constrainedly reverent 
 in his movements, and showed a proper degree of grave dignity 
 in demeanor. 
 
 Whenever the prince summoned him to act as usher to the 
 Court, his look would change somewhat, and he would make 
 as though he were turning round to do obeisance. 
 
 He would salute those among whom he took up his position, 
 using the right hand or the left, and holding the skirts of his 
 robe in proper position before and behind. He would make his 
 approaches with quick step, and with elbows evenly bent out- 
 wards. 
 
 When the visitor withdrew, he would not fail to report the 
 execution of his commands, with the words, " The visitor no 
 longer looks back." 
 
 When he entered the palace gate, it was with the body some- 
 what bent forward, almost as though he could not be admit- 
 ted. When he stood still, this would never happen in the mid- 
 dle of the gateway ; nor when moving about would he ever 
 tread on the threshold. When passing the throne, his look 
 would change somewhat, he would turn aside and make a sort 
 of obeisance, and the words he spoke seemed as though he were 
 deficient in utterance. 
 
 44
 
 THE ANALECTS 45 
 
 On going up the steps to the audience chamber, he would 
 gather up with both hands the ends of his robe, and walk with 
 his body bent somewhat forward, holding back his breath like 
 one in whom respiration has ceased. On coming out, after 
 descending one step his countenance would relax and assume 
 an appearance of satisfaction. Arrived at the bottom, he would 
 go forward with quick step, his elbows evenly bent outwards, 
 back to his position, constrainedly reverent in every movement. 
 
 When holding the sceptre in his hand, his body would be 
 somewhat bent forward, as if he were not equal to carrying it ; 
 wielding it now higher, as in a salutation, now lower, as in the 
 presentation of a gift ; his look would also be changed and ap- 
 pear awestruck ; and his gait would seem retarded, as if he were 
 obeying some restraining hand behind. 
 
 When he presented the gifts of ceremony, he would assume a 
 placid expression of countenance. At the private interview he 
 would be cordial and affable. 
 
 The good man would use no purple or violet colors for the 
 facings of his dress. ^^ Nor would he have red or orange color 
 for his undress.^^ For the hot season he wore a singlet, of 
 either coarse or fine texture, but would also feel bound to have 
 an outer garment covering it. For his black robe he had 
 lamb's wool ; for his white one, fawn's fur ; and for his yellow 
 one, fox fur. His furred undress robe was longer, but the right 
 sleeve was shortened. He would needs have his sleeping-dress 
 one and a half times his own length. For ordinary home wear 
 he used thick substantial fox or badger furs. When he left ofif 
 mourning, he would wear all his girdle trinkets. His kirtle in 
 front, when it was not needed for full cover, he must needs have 
 cut down. He would never wear his (black) lamb's-wool, or a 
 dark-colored cap, when he went on visits of condolence to 
 mourners.^* On the first day of the new moon, he must have 
 on his Court dress and to Court. When observing his fasts, 
 he made a point of having bright, shiny garments, made of 
 linen. He must also at such times vary his food, and move his 
 seat to another part of his dwelling-room. 
 
 As to his food, he never tired of rice so long as it was clean 
 and pure, nor of hashed meats when finely minced. Rice spoiled 
 
 ** Pecause, it is said, such colors were carnation, white, and black), and were 
 
 adopted in fasting ana mourning. affected more by females. 
 
 *» Because they did not belong to the 24 Since white was, as it is still, the 
 
 five correct colors (viz. green, yellow, mourning color.
 
 46 CONFUCIUS 
 
 by damp, and sour, he would not touch, nor tainted fish, nor bad 
 meat, nor aught of a bad color or smell, nor aught overdone in 
 cooking, nor aught out of season. Neither would he eat any- 
 thing that was not properly cut, or that lacked its proper sea- 
 sonings. Although there might be an abundance of meat be- 
 fore him, he would not allow a preponderance of it to rob the 
 rice of its beneficial effect in nutrition. Only in the matter of 
 wine did he set himself no limit, yet he never drank so much as 
 to confuse himself. Tradesmen's wines, and dried meats from 
 the market, he would not touch. Ginger he would never have 
 removed from the table during a meal. He was not a great 
 eater. Meat from the sacrifices at the prince's temple he would 
 never put aside till the following day. The meat of his own 
 ofiferings he would never give out after three days' keeping, for 
 after that time none were to eat it. 
 
 At his meals he would not enter into discussions ; and when 
 reposing (afterwards) he would not utter a word. 
 
 Even should his meal consist only of coarse rice and vege- 
 table broth or melons, he would make an offering, and never 
 fail to do so religiously. 
 
 He would never sit on a mat that was not straight. 
 
 After a feast among his villagers, he would wait before going 
 away until the old men had left. 
 
 When the village people were exorcising the pests, he would 
 put on his Court robes and stand on the steps of his hall to re- 
 ceive them. 
 
 When he was sending a message of inquiry to a person in 
 another State, he would bow twice on seeing the messenger oflf. 
 
 Ki K'ang once sent him a present of some medicine. He 
 bowed, and received it ; but remarked, " Until I am quite sure 
 of its properties I must not venture to taste it." 
 
 Once when the stabling was destroyed by fire, he withdrew 
 from the Court, and asked, " Is any person injured ? " — without 
 inquiring as to the horses. 
 
 Whenever the prince sent him a present of food, he was par- 
 ticular to set his mat in proper order, and would be the first one 
 to taste it. If the prince's present was one of raw meat, he 
 must needs have it cooked, and make an oblation of it. If the 
 gift were a live animal, he would be sure to keep it and care 
 for it. 
 
 When he was in waiting, and at a meal with the prince, the
 
 THE ANALECTS 
 
 47 
 
 prince would make the offering,'^ and he (the Master) was the 
 pregustator. 
 
 When unwell, and the prince came to see him, he would 
 arrange his position so that his head inclined towards the east, 
 would put over him his Court robes, and draw his girdle across 
 them. 
 
 When summoned by order of the prince, he would start off 
 without waiting for his horses to be put to. 
 
 On his entry into the Grand Temple, he inquired about 
 everything connected with its usages. 
 
 If a friend died, and there were no near relatives to take him 
 to, he would say, " Let him be buried from my house." 
 
 For a friend's gift — unless it consisted of meat that had been 
 offered in sacrifice — he would not bow, even if it were a carriage 
 and horses. 
 
 In repose he did not lie like one dead. In his home life he 
 was not formal in his manner. 
 
 Whenever he met with a person in mourning, even though it 
 were a familiar acquaintance, he would be certain to change his 
 manner; and when he met with any one in full-dress cap, or 
 with any blind person, he would also unfailingly put on a differ- 
 ent look, even though he were himself in undress at the time. 
 
 In saluting any person wearing mourning he would bow for- 
 wards towards the front bar of his carriage ; in the same man- 
 ner he would also salute the bearer of a census-register. 
 
 When a sumptuous banquet was spread before him, a differ- 
 ent expression would be sure to appear in his features, and he 
 would rise up from his seat. 
 
 At a sudden thunder-clap, or when the wind grew furious, his 
 look would also invariably be changed. 
 
 On getting into his car, he would never fail (first) to stand up 
 erect, holding on by the strap. When in the car, he would 
 never look about, nor speak hastily, nor bring one hand to the 
 other. 
 
 " Let one but make a movement in his face, 
 And the bird will rise and seek some safer place." 
 
 Apropos of this, he said, " Here is a hen-pheasant from Shan 
 Liang — and in season ! and in season ! " After Tsz-lu had got 
 it prepared, he smelt it thrice, and then rose up from his seat. 
 
 *'' The act of " grace," before eating.
 
 BOOK XI 
 
 Comparative Worth of His Disciples 
 
 •* '' I ^HE first to make progress in the Proprieties and in 
 I Music," said the Master, " are plain countrymen ; 
 
 after them, the men of higher standing. If I had 
 to employ any of them, I should stand by the former." 
 
 " Of those," said he, " who were about me when I was in the 
 Ch'in and Ts'ai States, not one now is left to approach my 
 door." 
 
 " As for Hwui,"^^ said the Master, " he is not one to help me 
 on : there is nothing I say but he is not well satisfied with." 
 
 " What a dutiful son was Min Tsz-k'ien ! " he exclaimed. 
 " No one finds occasion to differ from what his parents and 
 brothers have said of him." 
 
 Nan Yung used to repeat three times over the lines in the 
 Odes about the white sceptre. Confucius caused his own elder 
 brother's daughter to be given in marriage to him. 
 
 When Ki K'ang inquired which of the disciples were fond of 
 learning, Confucius answered him, " There was one Yen Hwui 
 who was fond of it ; but unfortunately his allotted time was 
 short, and he died ; and now his like is not to be found." 
 
 When Yen Yuen died, his father. Yen Lu, begged for the 
 Master's carriage in order to get a shell for his coffin. " Ability 
 or no ability," said the Master, " every father still speaks of 
 ' my son.' When my own son Li died, and the coffin for him 
 had no shell to it, I know I did not go on foot to get him one ; 
 but that was because I was, though retired, in the wake of the 
 ministers, and could not therefore well do so." 
 
 On the death of Yen Yuen the Master exclaimed, " Ah me ! 
 Heaven is ruining me, Heaven is ruining me ! " 
 
 ^ The men of virtuous life were Yen and Tsz-kung; the (capable) govern- 
 
 Vuen (Hwui), Min Tsz-k'ien, Yen Pih- ment servants were Yen Vu and Tsz-lu; 
 
 niu, and Chung-kung (Yen Yung); the the literary students, Tsz-yu and Tsz- 
 
 speakers and debaters were Tsai Wo hia. 
 
 48
 
 THE ANALECTS 
 
 49 
 
 On the same occasion, his waiHng for that disciple becoming 
 excessive, those wlio were about him said, " Sir, this is too 
 much! " — " Too much? " said he; " if I am not to do so for 
 him, then — for whom else ? " 
 
 The disciples then wished for the deceased a grand funeral. 
 The Master could not on his part consent to this. They never- 
 theless gave him one. Upon this he remarked, " He used to 
 look upon me as if I were his father. I could never, however, 
 look on him as a son. 'Twas not my mistake, but yours, my 
 children." 
 
 Tsz-lu propounded a question about ministering to the spirits 
 of the departed. The Master rephed, " Where there is scarcely 
 the ability to minister to living men, how shall there be ability 
 to minister to the spirits? " On his venturing to put a ques- 
 tion concerning death, he answered, " Where there is scarcely 
 any knowledge about life, how shall there be any about 
 death?" 
 
 The disciple Min was by his side, looking afifable and bland ; 
 Tsz-lu also, looking careless and intrepid ; and Yen Yu and 
 Tsz-kung, firm and precise. The Master was cheery. " One 
 like Tsz-lu there," said he, " does not come to a natural end." 
 
 Some persons in Lu were taking measures in regard to the 
 Long Treasury House. Min Tsz-k'ien observed, " How if it 
 were repaired on the old lines? " The Master upon this re- 
 marked, " This fellow is not a talker, but when he does speak he 
 is bound to hit the mark ! " 
 
 " There is Yu's harpsichord," exclaimed the Master — " what 
 is it doing at my door ? " On seeing, however, some disrespect 
 shown to him by the other disciples, he added, " Yu has got as 
 far as the top of the hall ; only he has not yet entered the 
 house." 
 
 Tsz-kung asked which was the w^orthier of the two — Tsz- 
 chang or Tsz-hia. " The former," answered the Master, " goes 
 beyond the mark ; the latter falls short of it." 
 
 " So then Tsz-chang is the better of the two, is he ? " said he. 
 
 " To go too far," he replied, " is about the same as to fall 
 short." 
 
 The Chief of the Ki family was a wealthier man than the 
 Duke of Chow had been, and yet Yen Yu gathered and hoarded 
 for him, increasing his wealth more and more. 
 
 " He is no follower of mine," said the Master. " It would 
 Vol. IV.— 4
 
 5° 
 
 CONFUCIUS 
 
 serve him right, my children, to sound the drum, and set upon 
 him." 
 
 Characteristics of four disciples : — Tsz-kau was simple- 
 minded; Tsang Si, a dullard; Tsz-chang, full of airs; Tsz- 
 lu, rough. 
 
 " As to Hwui," said the Master, " he comes near to perfec- 
 tion, while frequently in great want, Tsz-kung does not sub- 
 mit to the appointments of Heaven ; and yet his goods are in- 
 creased ; — he is often successful in his calculations." 
 
 Tsz-chang wanted to know some marks of the naturally Good 
 Man. 
 
 " He does not walk in others' footprints," said the Master; 
 " yet he does not get beyond the hall into the house." 
 
 Once the Master said, " Because we allow that a man's words 
 have something genuine in them, are they necessarily those of a 
 superior man ? or words carrying only an outward semblance 
 and show of gravity ? " 
 
 Tsz-lu put a question about the practice of precepts one has 
 heard. The Master's reply was, " In a case where there is a 
 father or elder brother still left with you, how should you prac- 
 tise all you hear? " 
 
 When, however, the same question was put to him by Yen 
 Yu, his reply was, " Yes ; do so." 
 
 Kung-si Hwa animadverted upon this to the Master. " Tsz- 
 lu asked you, sir," said he, " about the practice of what one has 
 learnt, and you said, ' There may be a father or elder brother 
 still alive ' ; but when Yen Yu asked the same question, you 
 answered, ' Yes, do so.' I am at a loss to understand you, and 
 venture to ask what you meant." 
 
 The Master replied, " Yen Yu backs out of his duties ; there- 
 fore I push him on. Tsz-lu has forwardness enough for them 
 both ; therefore I hold him back," 
 
 On the occasion of that time of fear in K'wang, Yen Yuen 
 having fallen behind, the Master said to him (afterwards), " I 
 took it for granted you were a dead man." " How should I 
 dare to die," said he, " while you, sir, still lived? " 
 
 On Ki Tsz-jen putting to him a question anent Tsz-lu and 
 Yen Yu, as to whether they might be called " great ministers," 
 the Master answered, " I had expected your question, sir, to be 
 about something extraordinary, and lo ! it is only about these 
 two. Those whom we call ' great ministers ' are such as serve
 
 THE ANALECTS 
 
 51 
 
 their prince conscientiously, and who, when they cannot do so, 
 retire. At present, as regards the two you ask about, they 
 may be called ' qualified ministers.' " 
 
 " Well, are they then," he asked, " such as will follow their 
 leader?" 
 
 " They would not follow him who should slay his father and 
 his prince ! " was the reply. 
 
 Through the intervention of Tsz-lu, Tsz-kau was being ap- 
 pointed governor of Pi. 
 
 " You are spoiling a good man's son," said the Master. 
 
 Tsz-lu rejoined, " But he will have the people and their su- 
 periors to gain experience from, and there will be the altars ; 
 what need to read books? He can become a student after- 
 wards." 
 
 " Here is the reason for my hatred of glib-tongued people," 
 said the Master. 
 
 On one occasion Tsz-lu, Tsang Sin, Yen Yu, and Kung-si 
 Hwa were sitting near him. He said to them, " Though I may 
 be a day older than you, do not (for the moment) regard me as 
 such. While you are living this unoccupied life you are say- 
 ing, ' We do not become known.' Now suppose some one got 
 to know you, what then ? " 
 
 Tsz-lu — first to speak — at once answered, " Give me a State 
 of large size and armament, hemmed in and hampered by other 
 larger States, the population augmented by armies and regi- 
 ments, causing a dearth in it of food of all kinds ; give me 
 charge of that State, and in three years' time I should make a 
 brave country of it, and let it know its place." 
 
 The Master smiled at him. " Yen," said he, " how would it 
 be with you? " 
 
 " Give me," said Yen, " a territory of sixty or seventy li 
 square, or of fifty or sixty square ; put me in charge of that, and 
 in three years I should make the people sufBciently prosperous. 
 As regards their knowledge of ceremonial or music, I should 
 wait for superior men to teach them that." 
 
 " And with you, Kung-si, how would it be ? " 
 
 This disciple's reply was, " I have nothing to say about my 
 capabilities for such matters ; my wish is to learn. I should 
 like to be a junior assistant, in dark robe and cap, at the services 
 of the ancestral temple, and at the Grand Receptions of the 
 Princes by the Sovereign."
 
 52 CONFUCIUS 
 
 " And with you, Tsang Sin? " 
 
 This disciple was strumming on his harpsichord, but now 
 the twanging ceased, he turned from the instrument, rose to his 
 feet, and answered thus : " Something different from the choice 
 of these three." "What harm?" said the Master; " I want 
 each one of you to tell me what his heart is set upon." " Well, 
 then," said he, " give me — in the latter part of spring — dressed 
 in full spring-tide attire — in company with five or six young 
 fellows of twenty,^^ or six or seven lads under that age, to do 
 the ablutions in the I stream, enjoy a breeze in the rain-dance,-* 
 and finish up with songs on the road home." 
 
 The Master drew in his breath, sighed, and exclaimed, " Ah, 
 I take with you ! " 
 
 The three other disciples having gone out, leaving Tsang Sin 
 behind, the latter said, " What think you of the answers of those 
 three ? " — " Well, each told me what was uppermost in his 
 mind," said the Master; — " simply that." 
 
 " Why did you smile at Tsz-lu, sir? " 
 
 " I smiled at him because to have the charge of a State re- 
 quires due regard to the Rules of Propriety, and his words 
 betrayed a lack of modesty." 
 
 " But Yen, then — he had a State in view, had he not ? " 
 
 " I should like to be shown a territory such as he described 
 which does not amount to a State." 
 
 " But had not Kung-si also a State in view? " 
 
 " What are ancestral temples and Grand Receptions, but for 
 the feudal lords to take part in ? If Kung-si were to become an 
 unimportant assistant at these functions, who could become an 
 important one? " 
 
 *^ Lit., capped ones. At twenty they ^ I.e., before the altars, where offer- 
 
 underwent the ceremony of capping, ings were placed with prayer for rain, 
 and were considered men. A religious dance.
 
 BOOK XII 
 The Master's Answers — Philanthropy — Friendships 
 
 YEN YUEN was asking about man's proper regard for 
 his fellow-man. The Master said to him, " Self-con- 
 trol, and a habit of falling back upon propriety, virtually 
 effect it. Let these conditions be fulfilled for one day, and 
 every one round will betake himself to the duty. Is it to begin 
 in one's self, or think you, indeed ! it is to begin in others ? " 
 
 " I wanted you to be good enough," said Yen Yuen, " to give 
 me a brief synopsis of it." 
 
 Then said the Master, " Without Propriety use not your 
 eyes ; without it use not your ears, nor your tongue, nor a limb 
 of your body." 
 
 " I may be lacking in diligence," said Yen Yuen, " but with 
 your favor I will endeavor to carry out this advice." 
 
 Chung-kung asked about man's proper regard for his fel- 
 lows. 
 
 To him the Master replied thus : " When you go forth from 
 your door, be as if you were meeting some guest of importance. 
 When you are making use of the common people (for State 
 purposes), be as if you were taking part in a great religious 
 function. Do not set before others what you do not desire 
 yourself. Let there be no resentful feelings against you when 
 you are away in the country, and none when at home." 
 
 " I may lack diligence," said Chung-kung, " but with your 
 favor I will endeavor to carry out this advice." 
 
 Sz-ma Niu asked the like question. The answer he received 
 was this : " The words of the man who has a proper regard for 
 his fellows are uttered with diflficulty." 
 
 " ' His words — uttered with difficulty ? ' " he echoed, in sur- 
 prise. " Is that what is meant by proper regard for one's fel- 
 low-creatures ? " 
 
 " Where there is difificulty in doing," the Master replied, " will 
 there not be some difficulty in utterance ? " 
 
 53
 
 54 CONFUCIUS 
 
 The same disciple put a question about the " superior man." 
 " Superior men," he repHed, " are free from trouble and appre- 
 hension." 
 
 " ' Free from trouble and apprehension ! ' " said he. " Does 
 that make them ' superior men ' ? " 
 
 The Master added, " Where there is found, upon introspec- 
 tion, to be no chronic disease, how shall there be any trouble ? 
 how shall there be any apprehension ? " 
 
 The same disciple, being in trouble, remarked, " I am alone in 
 having no brother, while all else have theirs — younger or elder." 
 
 Tsz-hia said to him, "I have heard this: 'Death and life 
 have destined times ; wealth and honors rest with Heaven. 
 Let the superior man keep watch over himself without ceasing, 
 showing deference to others, with propriety of manners — and 
 all within the four seas will be his brethren. How should he 
 be distressed for lack of brothers ! ' "-^. 
 
 Tsz-chang asked what sort of man might be termed " en- 
 lightened." 
 
 The Master replied, " That man with whom drenching slan- 
 der and cutting calumny gain no currency may well be called 
 enlightened. Ay, he with whom such things make no way may 
 well be called enlightened in the extreme." 
 
 Tsz-kung put a question relative to government. In reply 
 the Master mentioned three essentials : — sufficient food, suffi- 
 cient armament, and the people's confidence. 
 
 " But," said the disciple, " if you cannot really have all three, 
 and one has to be given up, which would you give up first? " 
 
 " The armament," he replied. 
 
 " And if you are obliged to give up one of the remaining two, 
 which would it be ? " 
 
 " The food," said he. " Death has been the portion of all 
 men from of old. Without the people's trust nothing can 
 stand." 
 
 Kih Tsz-shing once said, " Give me the inborn qualities of a 
 gentleman, and I want no more. How are such to come from 
 book-learning? " 
 
 Tsz-kung exclaimed, " Ah ! sir, I regret to hear such words 
 from you. A gentleman ! — But ' a team of four can ne'er o'er- 
 take the tongue!' Literary accomplishments are much the 
 same as inborn qualities, and inborn qualities as literary ac- 
 
 " From Confucius, it is generally thought.
 
 THE ANALECTS 55 
 
 compHshments, A tiger's or leopard's skin without the hair 
 might be a dog's or sheep's when so made bare." 
 
 Duke Ngai was consulting Yu Joh. Said he, " It is a year 
 of dearth, and there is an insufficiency for Ways and Means — 
 what am I to do ? " 
 
 " Why not apply the Tithing Statute? " said the minister. 
 
 " But two tithings would not be enough for my purposes," 
 said the duke ; " what would be the good of applying the 
 Statute?" 
 
 The minister replied, " So long as the people have enough 
 left for themselves, who of them will allow their prince to be 
 without enough? But — when the people have not enough, 
 who will allow their prince all that he wants? " 
 
 Tsz-chang was asking how the standard of virtue was to be 
 raised, and how to discern what was illusory or misleading. 
 The Master's answer was, " Give a foremost place to honesty 
 and faithfulness, and tread the path of righteousness, and you 
 will raise the standard of virtue. As to discerning what is illu- 
 sory, here is an example of an illusion : — Whom you love you 
 wish to live ; whom you hate you wish to die. To have wished 
 the same person to live and also to be dead — there is an 
 illusion for you." 
 
 Duke King of Ts'i consulted Confucius about government. 
 His answer was, " Let a prince be a prince, and ministers be 
 ministers ; let fathers be fathers, and sons be sons." 
 
 " Good ! " exclaimed the duke ; " truly if a prince fail to be a 
 prince, and ministers to be ministers, and if fathers be not 
 fathers, and sons not sons, then, even though I may have my 
 allowance of grain, should I ever be able to relish it? " 
 
 " The man to decide a cause with half a word," exclaimed the 
 Master, " is Tsz-lu ! " 
 
 Tsz-lu never let a night pass between promise and per- 
 formance. 
 
 " In hearing causes, I am like other men," said the Master. 
 " The great point is — to prevent litigation." 
 
 Tsz-chang having raised some question about government, 
 the Master said to him, " In the settlement of its principles be 
 unwearied ; in its administration — see to that loyally." 
 
 " The man of wide research," said he, " who also restrains 
 himself by the Rules of Propriety, is not likely to transgress." 
 
 Again, " The noble-minded man makes the most of others'
 
 56 CONFUCIUS 
 
 good qualities, not the worst of their bad ones. Men of small 
 mind do the reverse of this." 
 
 Ki K'ang was consulting him about the direction of public 
 affairs. Confucius answered him, " A director should be him- 
 self correct. If you, sir, as a leader show correctness, who will 
 dare not to be correct ? " 
 
 Ki K'ang, being much troubled on account of robbers 
 abroad, consulted Confucius on the matter. He received this 
 reply : " If you, sir, were not covetous, neither would they 
 steal, even were you to bribe them to do so." 
 
 Ki K'ang, when consulting Confucius about the govern- 
 ment, said, " Suppose I were to put to death the disorderly for 
 the better encouragement of the orderly — what say you to 
 that ? " 
 
 " Sir," replied Confucius, " in the administration of govern- 
 ment why resort to capital punishment ? Covet what is good, 
 and the people will be good. The virtue of the noble-minded 
 man is as the wind, and that of inferior men as grass ; the grass 
 must bend, when the wind blows upon it." 
 
 Tsz-chang asked how otherwise he would describe the 
 learned official who might be termed influential. 
 
 " What, I wonder, do you mean by one who is influential ? " 
 said the Master. 
 
 " I mean," replied the disciple, " one who is sure to have a 
 reputation throughout the country, as well as at home." 
 
 " That," said the Master, " is reputation, not influence. The 
 influential man, then, if he be one who is genuinely straight- 
 forward and loves what is just and right, a discriminator of 
 men's words, and an observer of their looks, and in honor care- 
 ful to prefer others to himself — will certainly have influence, 
 both throughout the country and at home. The man of mere 
 reputation, on the other hand, who speciously afTects philan- 
 thropy, though in his way of procedure he acts contrary to it, 
 while yet quite evidently engrossed with that virtue — will cer- 
 tainly have reputation, both in the country and at home." 
 
 Fan Ch'i, strolling with him over the ground below the place 
 of the rain-dance, said to him, " I venture to ask how to raise 
 the standard of virtue, how to reform dissolute habits, and how 
 to discern what is illusory? " 
 
 " Ah ! a good question indeed ! " he exclaimed. " Well, is 
 not putting duty first, and success second, a way of raising the
 
 THE ANALECTS 
 
 57 
 
 standard of virtue? And is not attacking the evil in one's self, 
 and not the evil which is in others, a way of reforming dissolute 
 habits? And as to illusions, is not one morning's fit of anger, 
 causing a man to forget himself, and even involving in the con- 
 sequences those who are near and dear to him — is not that an 
 illusion? " 
 
 The same disciple asked him what was meant by " a right re- 
 gard for one's fellow-creatures." He replied, " It is love to 
 man." 
 
 Asked by him again what was meant by wisdom, he replied, 
 " It is knowledge of man." 
 
 Fan Ch'i did not quite grasp his meaning. 
 
 The Master went on to say, " Lift up the straight, set aside 
 the crooked, so can you make the crooked straight." 
 
 Fan Ch'i left him, and meeting with Tsz-hia he said, " I had 
 an interview just now with the Master, and I asked him what 
 wisdom was. In his answer he said, ' Lift up the straight, set 
 aside the crooked, and so can you make the crooked straight.' 
 What was his meaning? " 
 
 " Ah ! words rich in meaning, those," said the other, 
 " When Shun was emperor, and was selecting his men from 
 among the multitude, he ' lifted up ' Kau-yau ; and men devoid 
 of right feelings towards their kind went far away. And when 
 T'ang was emperor, and chose out his men from the crowd, he 
 ' lifted up ' I-yin — with the same result." 
 
 Tsz-kung was consulting him about a friend. " Speak to 
 him frankly, and respectfully," said the Master, " and gently 
 lead him on. If you do not succeed, then stop ; do not submit 
 yourself to indignity." 
 
 The learned Tsang observed, " In the society of books the 
 * superior man ' collects his friends ; in the society of his friends 
 he is furthering good-will among men."
 
 BOOK XIII 
 Answers on the Art of Governing — Consistency 
 
 TSZ-LU was asking about government. " Lead the way 
 in it," said the Master, " and work hard at it." 
 
 Requested to say more, he added, " And do not 
 tire of it." 
 
 Chung-kung, on being made first minister to the Chief of the 
 Ki family, consulted the Master about government, and to him 
 he said, " Let the heads of offices be heads. Excuse small 
 faults. Promote men of sagacity and talent." 
 
 " But," he asked, " how am I to know the sagacious and 
 talented, before promoting them? " 
 
 " Promote those whom you do know," said the Master. 
 
 " As to those of whom you are uncertain, will others omit to 
 notice them? " 
 
 Tsz-lu said to the Master, " As the prince of Wei, sir, has 
 been waiting for you to act for him in his government, what is 
 it your intention to take in hand first? " 
 
 " One thing of necessity," he answered — " the rectification 
 of terms." 
 
 •' That ! " exclaimed Tsz-lu. " How far away you are, sir ! 
 Why such rectification? " 
 
 " What a rustic you are, Tsz-lu ! " rejoined the Master. " A 
 gentleman would be a little reserved and reticent in matters 
 which he does not understand. If terms be incorrect, language 
 will be incongruous ; and if language be incongruous, deeds 
 will be imperfect. So, again, when deeds are imperfect, pro- 
 priety and harmony cannot prevail, and when this is the case 
 laws relating to crime will fail in their aim ; and if these last 
 so fail, the people will not know where to set hand or foot. 
 Hence, a man of superior mind, certain first of liis terms, is 
 fitted to speak ; and being certain of what he says can proceed 
 upon it. In the language of such a person there is nothing 
 heedlessly irregular — and that is the sum of the matter." 
 
 58
 
 THE ANALECTS 59 
 
 I''an Ch'i requested that he might learn something of hus- 
 bandry. " For that," said the Master, " I am not equal to an 
 old husbandman." Might he then learn something of garden- 
 ing? he asked. " I am not equal to an old gardener," was the 
 reply. 
 
 " A man of little mind, that ! " said the Master, when Fan 
 Ch'i had gone out. " Let a man who is set over the people love 
 propriety, and they will not presume to be disrespectful. Let 
 him be a lover of righteousness, and they will not presume to 
 be aught but submissive. Let him love faithfulness and truth, 
 and they will not presume not to lend him their hearty assist- 
 ance. Ah, if all this only were so, the people from all sides 
 would come to such a one, carrying their children on their 
 backs. What need to turn his hand to husbandry ? 
 
 " Though a man," said he, " could hum through the Odes 
 — the three hundred — yet should show himself unskilled when 
 given some administrative work to do for his country ; though 
 he might know much of that other lore, yet if, when sent on a 
 mission to any quarter, he could answer no question personally 
 and unaided, what after all is he good for? 
 
 " Let a leader," said he, " show rectitude in his own personal 
 character, and even without directions from him things will go 
 well. If he be not personally upright, his directions will not be 
 complied with." 
 
 Once he made the remark, " The governments of Lu and of 
 Wei are in brotherhood." 
 
 Of King, a son of the Duke of Wei, he observed that " he 
 managed his household matters well. On his coming into 
 possession, he thought, * What a strange conglomeration ! ' — 
 Coming to possess a little more, it was, ' Strange, such a result ! ' 
 And when he became wealthy, ' Strange, such elegance ! ' " 
 
 The Master was on a journey to Wei, and Yen Yu was driving 
 him. " What multitudes of people ! " he exclaimed. Yen Yu 
 asked him, " Seeing they are so numerous, what more would 
 you do for them ? " 
 
 " Enrich them," replied the Master. 
 
 " And after enriching them, what more would you do for 
 them?" 
 
 " Instruct them." 
 
 " Were any one of our princes to employ me," he said, "after 
 a twelvemonth I might have made some tolerable progress; 
 but give me three years, and my work should be done."
 
 6o CONFUCIUS 
 
 Again, " How true is that saying, * Let good men have the 
 management of a country for a century, and they would be ade- 
 quate to cope with evil-doers, and thus do away with capital 
 punishments.' " 
 
 Again, " Suppose the ruler to possess true kingly qualities, 
 then surely after one generation there would be good-will 
 among men." 
 
 Again, " Let a ruler but see to his own rectitude, and what 
 trouble will he then have in the work before him? If he be 
 unable to rectify himself, how is he to rectify others ? " 
 
 Once when Yen Yu was leaving the Court, the Master oc- 
 costed him. " Why so late? " he asked. " Busy with legisla- 
 tion," Yen replied. " The details of it," suggested the Master ; 
 " had it been legislation, I should have been there to hear it, 
 even though I am not in office." 
 
 Duke Ting asked if there were one sentence which, if acted 
 upon, might have the efifect of making a country prosperous. 
 
 Confucius answered, " A sentence could hardly be supposed 
 to do so much as that. But there is a proverb people use which 
 says, * To play the prince is hard, to play the minister not easy." 
 Assuming that it is understood that ' to play the prince is 
 hard,' would it not be probable that with that one sentence the 
 country should be made to prosper ? " 
 
 " Is there, then," he asked, " one sentence which, if acted 
 upon, would have the efifect of ruining a country? " 
 
 Confucius again replied, " A sentence could hardly be sup- 
 posed to do so much as that. But there is a proverb men have 
 which says, ' Not gladly would I play the prince, unless my 
 words were ne'er withstood.' Assuming that the words were 
 good, and that none withstood them, would not that also be 
 good ? But assuming that they were not good, and yet none 
 withstood them, would it not be probable that with that one say- 
 ing he would work his country's ruin ? " 
 
 When the Duke of Sheh consulted him about government, he 
 replied, " Where the near are gratified, the far will follow." 
 
 When Tsz-hia became governor of Kii-fu, and consulted him 
 about government, he answered, " Do not wish for speedy re- 
 sults. Do not look at trivial advantages. If you wish for 
 speedy results, they will not be far-reaching ; and if you regard 
 trivial advantages you will not successfully deal with impor- 
 tant affairs."
 
 THE ANALECTS 6i 
 
 The Duke of Sheh in a conversation with Confucius said, 
 " There are some straightforward persons in my neighborhood. 
 If a father has stolon a sheep, the son will give evidence against 
 him." 
 
 " Straightforward people in my neighborhood are different 
 from those," said Confucius. " The father will hold a thing 
 secret on his son's behalf, and the son does the same for his 
 father. They are on their way to becoming straightforward." 
 
 Fan Ch'i was asking him about duty to one's fellow-men. 
 " Be courteous," he replied, " in your private sphere ; be serious 
 in any duty you take in hand to do ; be leal-hearted in your in- 
 tercourse with others. Even though you were to go amongst 
 the wild tribes, it would not be right for you to neglect these 
 duties." 
 
 In answer to Tsz-kung, who asked, " how he would charac- 
 terize one who could fitly be called ' learned official,' " the 
 Master said, " He may be so-called who in his private life is 
 affected with a sense of his own unworthiness, and who, when 
 sent on a mission to any quarter of the empire, would not dis- 
 grace his prince's commands." 
 
 " May I presume," said his questioner, " to ask what sort you 
 would put next to such ? " 
 
 " Him who is spoken of by his kinsmen as a dutiful son, and 
 whom the folks of his neighborhood call ' good brother.' " 
 
 " May I still venture to ask whom you would place next in 
 order ? " 
 
 " Such as are sure to be true to their word, and effective in 
 their work — who are given to hammering, as it were, upon one 
 note — of inferior calibre indeed, but fit enough, I think, to be 
 ranked next." 
 
 " How would you describe those who are at present in the 
 governm.ent service? " 
 
 " Ugh ! mere peck and panier men ! — not worth taking into 
 the reckoning." 
 
 Once he remarked, " If I cannot get via media men to impart 
 instruction to, then I must of course take the impetuous and 
 undisciplined ! The impetuous ones will at least go forward 
 and lay hold on things ; and the undisciplined have at least 
 something in them which needs to be brought out." 
 
 " The Southerners," said he, " have the proverb, * The man 
 who sticks not to rule will never make a charm-worker or a
 
 62 CONFUCIUS 
 
 medical man.* Good ! — ' Whoever is intermittent in his prac- 
 tise of virtue will live to be ashamed of it.' Without prognos- 
 tication," he added, " that will indeed be so." 
 
 " The nobler-minded man," he remarked, " will be agreeable 
 even when he disagrees ; the small-minded man will agree and 
 be disagreeable." 
 
 Tsz-kung was consulting him, and asked, " What say you of 
 a person who was liked by all in his village? " 
 
 " That will scarcely do," he answered. 
 
 " What, then, if they all disliked him ? " 
 
 " That, too," said he, " is scarcely enough. Better if he were 
 liked by the good folk in the village, and disliked by the bad." 
 
 " The superior man," he once observed, " is easy to serve, but 
 difficult to please. Try to please him by the adoption of wrong 
 principles, and you will fail. Also, when such a one employs 
 others, he uses them according to their capacity. The inferior 
 man is, on the other hand, difficult to serve, but easy to please. 
 Try to please him by the adoption of wrong principles, and you 
 will succeed. And when he employs others he requires them 
 to be fully prepared for everything." 
 
 Again, " The superior man can be high without being 
 haughty. The inferior man can be haughty if not high." 
 
 " The firm, the unflinching, the plain and simple, the slow to 
 speak," said he once, " are approximating towards their duty 
 to their fellow-men." 
 
 Tsz-lu asked how he would characterize one who might fitly 
 be called an educated gentleman. The master replied, " He 
 who can properly be so-called will have in him a seriousness of 
 purpose, a habit of controlling himself, and an agreeableness of 
 manner : among his friends and associates the seriousness and 
 the self-control, and among his brethren the agreeableness of 
 manner." 
 
 " Let good and able men discipline the people for seven 
 years," said the Master, " and after that they may do to go to 
 war." 
 
 But, said he, " To lead an undisciplined people to war — that 
 I call throwing them away."
 
 BOOK XIV 
 Good and Bad Government — Miscellaneous Sayings 
 
 YUEN SZ asked what might be considered to bring shame 
 on one. 
 
 " Pay," said the Master ; " pay — ever looking to that, 
 whether the country be well or badly governed." 
 
 " When imperiousness, boastfulness, resentments, and cov- 
 etousness cease to prevail among the people, may it be consid- 
 ered that mutual good-will has been effected ? " To this ques- 
 tion the Master replied, " A hard thing overcome, it may be 
 considered. But as to the mutual good-will — I cannot tell." 
 
 " Learned officials," said he, " who hanker after a home life, 
 are not worthy of being esteemed as such." 
 
 Again, " In a country under good government, speak boldly, 
 act boldly. When the land is ill-governed, though you act 
 boldly, let your words be moderate." 
 
 Again, " Men of virtue will needs be men of words — will 
 speak out — but men of words are not necessarily men of virtue. 
 They who care for their fellow-men will needs be bold, but the 
 bold may not necessarily be such as care for their fellow-men." 
 
 Nan-kung Kwoh, who was consulting Confucius, observed 
 respecting I, the skilful archer, and Ngau, who could propel a 
 boat on dry land, that neither of them died a natural death ; 
 while Yu and Tsih, who with their own hands had labored at 
 husbandry, came to wield imperial sway. 
 
 The Master gave him no reply. But when the speaker had 
 gone out he exclaimed, " A superior man, that ! A man who 
 values virtue, that ! " 
 
 " There have been noble-minded men," said he, " who yet 
 were wanting in philanthropy ; but never has there been a 
 small-minded man who had philanthropy in him." 
 
 He asked, " Can any one refuse to toil for those he loves ? 
 Can any one refuse to exhort, who is true-hearted? " 
 
 63
 
 64 CONFUCIUS 
 
 Speaking of the preparation of Government Notifications in 
 his day he said, " P'i would draw up a rough sketch of what 
 was to be said ; the Shishuh then looked it carefully through 
 and put it into proper shape ; Tsz-yu next, who was master of 
 the ceremonial of State intercourse, improved and adorned its 
 phrases ; and Tsz-ch'an of Tung-li added his scholarly embel- 
 lishments thereto." 
 
 To some one who asked his opinion of the last-named, he said, 
 *' He was a kind-hearted man." Asked what he thought of 
 Tsz-si, he exclaimed, " Alas for him ! alas for him ! " — Asked 
 again about Kwan Chung, his answer was, " As to him, he 
 once seized the town of P'in with its three hundred families 
 from the Chief of the Pih clan, who, afterwards reduced to liv- 
 ing upon coarse rice, with all his teeth gone, never uttered a 
 word of complaint." 
 
 " It is no light thing," said he, " to endure poverty uncom- 
 plainingly ; and a difficult thing to bear wealth without be- 
 coming arrogant." 
 
 Respecting Mang Kung-ch'oh, he said that, while he was 
 fitted for something better than the post of chief officer in the 
 Chau or Wei families, he was not competent to act as minister 
 in small States like those of T'ang or Sieh. 
 
 Tsz-lu asked how he would describe a perfect man. He re- 
 plied, " Let a man have the sagacity of Tsang Wu-chung, the 
 freedom from covetousness of Kung-ch'oh, the boldness of 
 Chwang of P'in, and the attainments in polite arts of Yen Yu ; 
 and gift him further with the graces taught by the ' Books of 
 Rites ' and ' Music ' — then he may be considered a perfect 
 man. But," said he, ''what need of such in these days? The 
 man that may be regarded as perfect now is the one who, seeing 
 some advantage to himself, is mindful of righteousness ; who, 
 seeing danger, risks his life ; and who, if bound by some cove- 
 nant of long standing, never forgets its conditions as life goes 
 on." 
 
 Respecting Kung-shuh Wan, the Master inquired of Kung- 
 ming Kia, saying, " Is it true that your master never speaks, 
 never laughs, never takes aught from others ? " 
 
 " Those who told you that of him," said he, " have gone too 
 far. My master speaks when there is occasion to do so, and 
 men are not surfeited with his speaking. When there is occa- 
 sion to be merry too, be will laugh, but men have never over-
 
 THE ANALECTS 65 
 
 much of his laughing. And whenever it is just and right to 
 take things from others, he will take them, but never so as to 
 allow men to think him burdensome." " Is that the case with 
 him ? " said the Master. " Can it be so ? " 
 
 Respecting Tsang Wu-chung the Master said, " When he 
 sought from Lu the appointment of a successor to him, and for 
 this object held on to his possession of the fortified city of 
 Fang — if you say he was not then using constraint towards his 
 prince, I must refuse to beHeve it." 
 
 Duke Wan of Tsin he characterized as " artful but not up- 
 right " ; and Duke Hwan of Ts'i as " upright but not artful." 
 
 Tsz-lu remarked, " When Duke Hwan caused his brother 
 Kiu to be put to death, Shau Hwuh committed suicide, but 
 Kwan Chung did not. I should say he was not a man who 
 had much good-will in him — eh ? " 
 
 The Master replied, " When Duke Hwan held a great gather- 
 ing of the feudal lords, dispensing with military equipage, it 
 was owing to Kwan Chung's energy that such an event was 
 brought about. Match such good-will as that — match it if you 
 can." 
 
 Tsz-kung then spoke up. " But was not Kwan Chung want- 
 ing in good-will? He could not give up his life when Duke 
 Hwan caused his brother to be put to death. Besides, he be- 
 came the duke's counsellor." 
 
 " And in acting as his counsellor put him at the head of all the 
 feudal lords," said the Master, " and unified and reformed the 
 whole empire ; and the people, even to this day, reap benefit 
 from what he did. Had it not been for him we should have 
 been going about with locks unkempt and buttoning our 
 jackets (like barbarians) on the left. Would you suppose that 
 he should show the same sort of attachment as exists between 
 a poor yokel and his one wife — that he would asphyxiate him- 
 self in some sewer, leaving no one the wiser? " 
 
 Kung-shuh Wan's steward, who became the high ofificer 
 Sien, went up accompanied by Wan to the prince's hall of 
 audience. 
 
 When Confucius heard of this he remarked, " He may well 
 be esteemed a ' Wan.' " 
 
 The Master having made some reference to the lawless ways 
 of Duke Ling of Wei, Ki K'ang said to him, *' If he be like that, 
 how is it he does not ruin his position? " 
 Vol. IV.— 5
 
 66 CONFUCIUS 
 
 Confucius answered, " The Chung-shuh, Yu, is charged with 
 the entertainment of visitors and strangers ; the priest T'o has 
 charge of the ancestral temple ; and Wang-sun Kia has the 
 control of the army and its divisions : — with men such as those, 
 how should he come to ruin ? " 
 
 He once remarked, " He who is unblushing in his words will 
 with difficulty substantiate them." 
 
 Ch'in Shing had slain Duke Kien. Hearing of this, Confu- 
 cius, after performing his ablutions, went to Court and an- 
 nounced the news to Duke Ngai, saying, " Ch'in Hang has 
 slain his prince. May I request that vou proceed against 
 him?" 
 
 " Inform the Chiefs of the Three Families," said the duke. 
 
 Soliloquizing upon this, Confucius said, " Since he uses me 
 to back his ministers,^" I did not dare not to announce the 
 matter to him ; and now he says, ' Inform the Three Chiefs.' " 
 
 He went to the Three Chiefs and informed them, but nothing 
 could be done. Whereupon again he said, " Since he uses me 
 to back his ministers, I did not dare not to announce the mat- 
 ter." 
 
 Tsz-lu was questioning him as to how he should serve his 
 prince. *' Deceive him not, but reprove him," he answered. 
 
 " The minds of superior men," he observed, " trend upwards ; 
 those of inferior men trend downwards." 
 
 Again, " Students of old fixed their eyes upon themselves: 
 now they learn with their eyes upon others." 
 
 Kti Pih-yuh despatched a man with a message to Confucius. 
 Confucius gave him a seat, and among other inquiries he asked, 
 " How is your master managing? " " My master," he repHed, 
 " has a great wish to be seldom at fault, and as yet he cannot 
 manage it." 
 
 " What a messenger ! " exclaimed he, admiringly, when the 
 man went out. " What a messenger ! " 
 
 " When not occupying the office," was a remark of his, " de- 
 vise not the policy." 
 
 The Learned Tsang used to say, " The thoughts of the 
 * superior man ' do not wander from his own office." 
 
 " Superior men," said the Master, " are modest in their 
 words, profuse in their deeds." 
 
 *" Confucius had now retired from office, and this incident occurred only 
 two years before his death.
 
 THE ANALECTS 67 
 
 Again, " There are three attainments of the superior man 
 which are beyond me — the being sympathetic without anxiety, 
 wise without scepticism, brave witliout fear." 
 
 " Sir," said Tsz-kung, " that is what you say of yourself." 
 
 Whenever Tsz-kung drew comparisons from others, the 
 Master would say, " Ah, how wise and great you must have 
 become ! Now I have no time to do that." 
 
 Again, " My great concern is, not that men do not know 
 me, but that they cannot." 
 
 Again, " If a man refrain from making preparations against 
 his being imposed upon, and from counting upon others' want 
 of good faith towards him, while he is foremost to perceive what 
 is passing — surely that is a wise and good man." 
 
 Wi-shang Mau accosted Confucius, saying, " Kiu, how 
 comes it that you manage to go perching and roosting in this 
 way? Is it not because you show yourself so smart a speaker, 
 now ? " 
 
 " I should not dare do that," said Confucius. " 'Tis that I 
 am sick of men's immovableness and deafness to reason." 
 
 " In a well-bred horse," said he, " what one admires is not its 
 speed, but its good points." 
 
 Some one asked, " What say you of the remark, ' Requite 
 enmity with kindness '? " 
 
 "How then," he answered, "would you requite kindness? 
 Requite enmity with straightforwardness, and kindness with 
 kindness." 
 
 " Ah ! no one knows me ! " he once exclaimed. 
 
 " Sir," said Tsz-kung, " how comes it to pass that no one 
 knows you ? " 
 
 " While I murmur not against Heaven," continued the Mas- 
 ter, " nor cavil at men ; while I stoop to learn and aspire to 
 penetrate into things that are high ; yet 'tis Heaven alone 
 knows what I am." 
 
 Liau, a kinsman of the duke, having laid a complaint against 
 Tsz-lu before Ki K'ang, an officer came to Confucius to inform 
 him of the fact, and he added, " My lord is certainly having his 
 mind poisoned by his kinsman Liau, but through my influence 
 perhaps we may yet manage to see him exposed in the market- 
 place or the Court." 
 
 " If right principles are to have their course, it is so destined," 
 said the Master ; " if they are not to have their course, it is so 
 destined. What can Liau do against Destiny? "
 
 68 CONFUCIUS 
 
 " There are worthy men," said the Master, " fleeing from the 
 world ; some from their district ; some from the sight of men's 
 looks; some from the language they hear.'' 
 
 " The men who have risen from their posts and withdrawn in 
 this manner are seven in number." 
 
 Tsz-lu, having lodged overnight in Shih-mun, was accosted 
 by the gate-keeper in the morning. "Where from?" he 
 asked. " From Confucius," Tsz-lu responded. " That is the 
 man," said he, " who knows things are not up to the mark, and 
 is making some ado about them, is it not ? " 
 
 When the Master was in Wei, he was once pounding on the 
 musical stone, when a man with a basket of straw crossed his 
 threshold, and exclaimed, " Ah, there is a heart that feels ! Aye, 
 drub the stone ! " After which he added, " How vulgar ! how 
 he hammers away on one note ! — and no one knows him, and 
 he gives up, and all is over ! 
 
 ' Be it deep, our skirts we'll raise to the waist, 
 — Or shallow, then up to the knee.' " 
 
 " What determination 1 " said the Master. " Yet it was not 
 hard to do." 
 
 Tsz-chang once said to him, " In the * Book of the Annals ' 
 it is stated that while Kau-tsung was in the Mourning Shed he 
 spent the three years without speaking. What is meant by 
 that ? " 
 
 " Why must you name Kau-tsung? " said the Master. " It 
 was so with all other ancient sovereigns : when one of them 
 died, the heads of every department agreed between them- 
 selves that they should give ear for three years to the Prime 
 Minister." 
 
 " When their betters love the Rules, then the folk are easy 
 tools," was a saying of the Master. 
 
 Tsz-lu having asked what made a " superior man," he an- 
 swered, " Self-culture, with a view to becoming seriously- 
 minded." 
 
 " Nothing more than that? " said he. 
 
 " Self-culture with a view to the greater satisfaction of 
 others," added the Master. 
 
 " That, and yet no more ? " 
 
 " Self-culture with a view to the greater satisfaction of all the 
 clans and classes," he again added. " Self-culture for the sake
 
 THE ANALECTS 69 
 
 of all — a result that, that would almost put Yau and Shun into 
 the shade! " 
 
 To Yuen Jang,^* who was sitting waiting for him in a squat- 
 ting (disrespectful) posture, the Master delivered himself as fol- 
 lows : " The man who in his youth could show no humility or 
 subordination, who in his prime misses his opportunity, and 
 who when old age comes upon him will not die — that man is a 
 miscreant." And he tapped him on the shin with his staff. 
 
 Some one asked about his attendant — a youth from the vil- 
 lage of Kiueh — whether he was one who improved. He re- 
 plied, " I note that he seats himself in the places reserved for his 
 betters, and that when he is walking he keeps abreast with his 
 seniors. He is not one of those who care for improvement: 
 he wants to be a man all at once." 
 
 " It is a habit with the Chinese, when off according to their age. It is a cus- 
 a number are out walking together, for torn much older than the time of Con- 
 the eldest to go first, the others pairing fucius.
 
 BOOK XV 
 Practical Wisdom — Reciprocity the Rule of Life 
 
 DUKE LING of Wei was consulting Confucius about 
 army arrangements. His answer was, " Had you 
 asked me about such things as temple requisites, I have 
 learnt that business, but I have not yet studied military mat- 
 ters." And he followed up this reply by leaving on the follow- 
 ing day. 
 
 After this, during his residence in the State of Ch'in, his fol- 
 lowers, owing to a stoppage of food supply, became so weak 
 and ill that not one of them could stand. Tsz-lu, with indigna- 
 tion pictured on his countenance, exclaimed, " And is a gentle- 
 man to sufifer starvation ? " 
 
 " A gentleman," replied the Master, " will endure it un- 
 moved, but a common person breaks out into excesses under 
 it." 
 
 Addressing Tsz-kung, the Master said, "You regard me as 
 one who studies and stores up in his mind a multiplicity of 
 things — do you not? " — " I do," he replied ; " is it not so? " — 
 " Not at all. I have one idea — one cord on which to string 
 all." 
 
 To Tsz-lu he remarked, " They who know Virtue are rare." 
 
 " If you would know one who without efifort ruled well, was 
 not Shun such a one ? What did he indeed do ? He bore him- 
 self with reverent dignity and undeviatingly ' faced the south,' 
 and that was all." 
 
 Tsz-chang was consulting him about making way in life. 
 He answered, " Be true and honest in all you say, and seriously 
 earnest in all you do, and then, even if your country be one in- 
 habited by barbarians, South or North, you will make your 
 way. If you do not show yourself thus in word and deed how 
 should you succeed, even in your own district or neighborhood ? 
 — When you are afoot, let these two counsels be two compan- 
 
 70
 
 THE ANALECTS 71 
 
 ions preceding you, yourself viewing them from behind ; when 
 you drive, have them in view as on the yoke of your carriage. 
 Then may you make your way." 
 
 Tsz-chang wrote them on the two ends of his cincture. 
 
 " Straight was the course of the Annalist Yu," said the Mas- 
 ter — " aye, straight as an arrow flies ; were the country well 
 governed or ill governed, his was an arrow-like course. 
 
 " A man of masterly mind, too, is Kii Pih-yuh ! When the 
 land is being rightly governed he will serve ; when it is under 
 bad government he is apt to recoil, and brood." 
 
 " Not to speak to a man," said he, " to whom you ought to 
 speak, is to lose your man ; to speak to one to whom you ought 
 not to speak is to lose your words. Those who are wise will 
 not lose their man, nor yet their words." 
 
 Again, " The scholar whose heart is in his work, and who is 
 philanthropic, seeks not to gain a livelihood by any means that 
 will do harm to his philanthropy. There have been men who 
 have destroyed their own lives in the endeavor to bring that 
 virtue in them to perfection." 
 
 Tsz-kung asked how to become philanthropic. The Master 
 answered him thus : " A workman who wants to do his work 
 well must first sharpen his tools. In whatever land you live, 
 serve under some wise and good man among those in high 
 office, and make friends with the more humane of its men of 
 education." 
 
 Yen Yuen consulted him on the management of a country. 
 He answered : — 
 
 " Go by the Hia Calendar. Have the State carriages like 
 those of the Yin princes. Wear the Chow cap. For your 
 music let that of Shun be used for the posturers. Put away the 
 songs of Ch'ing, and remove far from you men of artful speech : 
 the Ch'ing songs are immodest, and artful talkers are dan- 
 gerous." 
 
 Other sayings of the Master : — 
 
 " They who care not for the morrow will the sooner have 
 their sorrow. 
 
 "Ah, 'tis hopeless ! I have not yet met with the man who loves 
 Virtue as he loves Beauty. 
 
 " Was not Tsang Wan like one who surreptitiously came by 
 the post he held ? He knew the worth of Hwui of Liu-hia, and 
 could not stand in his presence.
 
 72 
 
 CONFUCIUS 
 
 " Be generous yourself, and exact little from others ; then 
 you banish complaints. 
 
 " With one who does not come to me inquiring * What of 
 this ? ' and ' What of that ? ' I never can ask ' What of this ? ' and 
 give him up. 
 
 " If a number of students are all day together, and in their 
 conversation never approach the subject of righteousness, but 
 are fond merely of giving currency to smart little sayings, they 
 are difficult indeed to manage. 
 
 " When the ' superior man ' regards righteousness as the 
 thing material, gives operation to it according to the Rules of 
 Propriety, lets it issue in humility, and become complete in sin- 
 cerity — there indeed is your superior man ! 
 
 " The trouble of the superior man will be his own want of 
 ability : it will be no trouble to him that others do not know 
 him. 
 
 " Such a man thinks it hard to end his days and leave a name 
 to be no longer named. 
 
 " The superior man is exacting of himself ; the common man 
 is exacting of others. 
 
 " A superior man has self-respect, and does not strive ; is 
 sociable, yet no party man. 
 
 " He does not promote a man because of his words, or pass 
 over the words because of the man." 
 
 Tsz-kung put to him the question, " Is there one word upon 
 which the whole life may proceed ? " 
 
 The Master replied, " Is not Reciprocity such a word ? — what 
 you do not yourself desire, do not put before others." 
 
 " So far as I have to do with others, whom do I over-censure? 
 whom do I over-praise ? If there be something in them that 
 looks very praiseworthy, that something I put to the test. I 
 would have the men of the present day to walk in the straight 
 path whereby those of the Three Dynasties have walked. 
 
 " I have arrived as it were at the annalist's blank page. — 
 Once he who had a horse would lend it to another to mount ; 
 now, alas ! it is not so. 
 
 " Artful speech is the confusion of Virtue. Impatience over 
 little things introduces confusion into great schemes. 
 
 " What is disliked by the masses needs inquiring into ; so 
 also does that which they have a preference for. 
 
 " A man may give breadth to his principles : it is not princi- 
 ples (in themselves) that give breadth to the man.
 
 THE ANALECTS 73 
 
 " Not to retract after committing an error may itself be called 
 error, 
 
 " If I have passed the whole day without food and the whole 
 night without sleep, occupied with my thoughts, it profits me 
 nothing: I were better engaged in learning. 
 
 " The superior man deliberates upon how he may walk in 
 truth, not upon what he may eat. The farmer may plough, and 
 be on the way to want : the student learns, and is on his way to 
 emolument. To live a right life is the concern of men of 
 nobler minds : poverty gives them none. 
 
 " Whatsoever the intellect may attain to, unless the humanity 
 within is powerful enough to keep guard over it, is assuredly 
 lost, even though it be gained. 
 
 " If there be intellectual attainments, and the humanity with- 
 in is powerful enough to keep guard over them, yet, unless (in a 
 ruler) there be dignity in his rule, the people will fail to show 
 him respect. 
 
 " Again, given the intellectual attainments, and humanity 
 sufficient to keep watch over them, and also dignity in ruling, 
 yet if his movements be not in accordance with the Rules of 
 Propriety, he is not yet fully qualified. 
 
 " The superior man may not be conversant with petty de- 
 tails, and yet may have important matters put into his hands. 
 The inferior man may not be charged with important matters, 
 yet may be conversant with the petty details. 
 
 " Good-fellowship is more to men than fire and water. I 
 have seen men stepping into fire and into water, and meeting 
 with death thereby ; I have not yet seen a man die from plant- 
 ing his steps in the path of good-fellowship. 
 
 " Rely upon good nature. 'Twill not allow precedence even 
 to a teacher. 
 
 " The superior man is inflexibly upright, and takes not things 
 upon trust. 
 
 " In serving your prince, make your service the serious con- 
 cern, and let salary be a secondary matter. 
 
 " Where instruction is to be given, there must be no dis- 
 tinction of persons. 
 
 " Where men's methods are not identical, there can be no 
 planning by one on behalf of another. 
 
 " In speaking, perspicuity is all that is needed." 
 
 When the blind music-master Mien paid him a visit, on his
 
 74 CONFUCIUS 
 
 approaching the steps the Master called out " Steps," and on 
 his coming to the mat, said " Mat." When all in the room were 
 seated, the Master told him " So-and-so is here, so-and-so is 
 here." 
 
 When the music-master had left, Tsz-chang said to him, " Is 
 that the way to speak to the music-master? " " Well," he re- 
 phed, " it is certainly the way to assist him."
 
 BOOK XVI 
 Against Intestine Strife— Good and Bad Friendships 
 
 THE Chief of the Ki family was about to make an on- 
 slaught upon the Chuen-yu domain. 
 
 Yen Yu and Tsz-lu in an interview with Confucius 
 told him, " The Ki is about to have an affair with Chuen-yu." 
 
 " Yen," said Confucius, " does not the fault lie with you ? 
 The Chief of Chuen-yu in times past was appointed lord of the 
 East Mung (mountain) ; besides, he dwells within the confines 
 of your own State, and is an official of the State-worship ; how 
 can you think of making an onslaught upon him ? " 
 
 " It is the wish of our Chief," said Yen Yu, " not the wish of 
 either of us ministers." 
 
 Confucius said, " Yen, there is a sentence of Chau Jin which 
 runs thus : " ' Having made manifest their powers and taken 
 their place in the official list, when they find themselves incom- 
 petent they resign ; if they cannot be firm when danger threat- 
 ens the government, nor lend support when it is reeling, of what 
 use then shall they be as Assistants ? ' — Besides, you are wrong 
 in what you said. When a rhinoceros or tiger breaks out of its 
 cage — when a jewel or tortoise-shell ornament is damaged in 
 its casket — whose fault is it? " 
 
 " But," said Yen Yu, " so far as Chuen-yu is concerned, it is 
 now fortified, and it is close to Pi ; and if he does not now take 
 it, in another generation it will certainly be a trouble to his de- 
 scendants." 
 
 " Yen ! " exclaimed Confucius, " it is a painful thing to a 
 superior man to have to desist from saying, ' My wish is so- 
 and-so,' and to be obliged to make apologies. For my part, 
 I have learnt this — that rulers of States and heads of Houses 
 are not greatly concerned about their small following, but 
 about the want of equilibrium in it — that they do not concern 
 themselves about their becoming poor, but about the best 
 
 75
 
 76 CONFUCIUS 
 
 means of living quietly and contentedly ; for where equilibrium 
 is preserved there will be no poverty, where there is harmony 
 their following will not be small, and where there is quiet con- 
 tentment there will be no decline nor fall. Now if that be the 
 case, it follows that if men in outlying districts are not submis- 
 sive, then a reform in education and morals will bring them to ; 
 and when they have been so won, then will you render them 
 quiet and contented. At the present time you two are Assist- 
 ants of your Chief ; the people in the outlying districts are not 
 submissive, and cannot be brought round. Your dominion is 
 divided, prostrate, dispersed, cleft in pieces, and you as its 
 guardians are powerless. And plans are being made for tak- 
 ing up arms against those who dwell within your own State. I 
 am apprehensive that the sorrow of the Ki family is not to lie 
 in Chuen-yu, but in those within their own screen." 
 
 " When the empire is well-ordered," said Confucius, " it is 
 from the emperor that edicts regarding ceremonial, music, and 
 expeditions to quell rebellion go forth. When it is being ill 
 governed, such edicts emanate from the feudal lords ; and 
 when the latter is the case, it will be strange if in ten generations 
 there is not a collapse. If they emanate merely from the high 
 officials, it will be strange if the collapse do not come in five 
 generations. When the State-edicts are in the hands of the 
 subsidiary ministers, it will be strange if in three generations 
 there is no collapse. 
 
 " When the empire is well-ordered, government is not left in 
 the hands of high officials. 
 
 " When the empire is well-ordered, the common people will 
 cease to discuss public matters." 
 
 " For five generations," he said, " the revenue has departed 
 from the ducal household. Four generations ago the govern- 
 ment fell into the hands of the high officials. Hence, alas ! the 
 straitened means of the descendants of the three Hwan fam- 
 ilies." 
 
 " There are," said he, " three kinds of friendships which are 
 profitable, and three which are detrimental. To make friends 
 with the upright, with the trustworthy, with the experienced, is 
 to gain benefit ; to make friends with the subtly perverse, with 
 the artfully pHant, with the subtle in speech, is detrimental." 
 
 Again, " There are three kinds of pleasure which are profit- 
 able, and three which are detrimental. To take pleasure in go-
 
 THE ANALECTS 77 
 
 ing regularly through the various branches of Ceremonial and 
 Music, in speaking of others' goodness, in having many worthy 
 wise friends, is profitable. To take pleasure in wild bold pleas- 
 ures, in idling carelessly about, in the too jovial accompani- 
 ments of feasting, is detrimental." 
 
 Again, " Three errors there be, into which they who wait 
 upon their superior may fall : — (i) to speak before the opportu- 
 nity comes to them to speak, which I call heedless haste ; (2) re- 
 fraining from speaking when the opportunity has come, which 
 I call concealment ; and (3) speaking, regardless of the mood 
 he is in, which I call blindness." 
 
 Again, " Three things a superior should guard against: — (i) 
 against the lusts of the flesh in his earlier years while the vital 
 powers are not fully developed and fixed ; (2) against the spirit 
 of combativeness when he has come to the age of robust man- 
 hood and when the vital powers are matured and strong, and (3) 
 against ambitiousness when old age has come on and the vital 
 powers have become weak and decayed." 
 
 "Three things also such a man greatly reveres: — (i) the 
 ordinances of Heaven, (2) great men, (3) words of sages. The 
 inferior man knows not the ordinances of Heaven and there- 
 fore reveres them not, is unduly familiar in the presence of great 
 men, and scoffs at the words of sages." 
 
 " They whose knowledge comes by birth are of all men the 
 first in understanding; they to whom it comes by study are 
 next ; men of poor intellectual capacity, who yet study, may be 
 added as a yet inferior class ; and lowest of all are they who are 
 poor in intellect and never learn." 
 
 " Nine things there are of which the superior man should be 
 mindful : — to be clear in vision, quick in hearing, genial in ex- 
 pression, respectful in demeanor, true in word, serious in duty, 
 inquiring in doubt, firmly self-controlled in anger, just and fair 
 when the way to success opens out before him." 
 
 " Some have spoken of ' looking upon goodness as upon 
 something beyond their reach,' and of ' looking upon evil as 
 like plunging one's hands into scalding liquid ' ; — I have seen 
 the men, I have heard the sayings. 
 
 " Some, again, have talked of ' living in seclusion to work out 
 their designs,' and of ' exercising themselves in righteous living 
 in order to render their principles the more effective ' ; — I have 
 heard the sayings, I have not seen the men."
 
 78 CONFUCIUS 
 
 " Duke King of Ts'i had his thousand teams of four, yet on 
 the day of his death the people had nothing to say of his good- 
 ness. Peh-I and Shuh-Ts'i starved at the foot of Shau-yang, 
 and the people make mention of them to this day. 
 
 ' E'en if not wealth thine object be, 
 'Tis all the same, thou'rt changed to me.' 
 
 "Is not this apropos in such cases?" 
 
 Tsz-k'in asked of Pih-yu, " Have you heard anything else 
 peculiar from your father? " 
 
 " Not yet," said he. " Once, though, he was standing alone 
 when I was hurrying past him over the vestibule, and he said, 
 'Are you studying the Odes?' 'Not yet,' I replied. 'If 
 you do not learn the Odes,' said he, ' you will not have the 
 wherewithal for conversing.' I turned away and studied the 
 Odes. Another day, when he was again standing alone and 
 I was hurrying past across the vestibule, he said to me, ' Are 
 you learning the Rules of Propriety?' ' Not yet,' I replied. 
 ' If you have not studied the Rules, you have nothing to stand 
 upon,' said he. I turned away and studied the Rules. — These 
 two things I have heard from him." 
 
 Tsz-k'in turned away, and in great glee exclaimed, " I asked 
 one thing, and have got three. I have learnt something about 
 the Odes, and about the Rules, and moreover I have learnt 
 how the superior man will turn away his own son." 
 
 The wife of the ruler of a State is called by her husband 
 " My helpmeet." She speaks of herself as " Your little hand- 
 maiden." The people of that State call her " The prince's help- 
 meet," but addressing persons of another State they speak of 
 her as " Our little princess." When persons of another State 
 name her they say also " Your prince's helpmeet."
 
 BOOK XVII 
 The Master Induced to Take Office— Nature and Habit 
 
 YANG HO was desirous of having an interview with Con- 
 fucius, but on the latter's faiHng to go and see him, he 
 sent a present of a pig to his house. Confucius went 
 to return his acknowledgments for it at a time when he was 
 not at home. They met, however, on the way. 
 
 He said to Confucius, " Come, I want a word with you. Can 
 that man be said to have good-will towards his fellow-men who 
 hugs and hides his own precious gifts and allows his country to 
 go on in blind error? " 
 
 " He cannot," was the reply. 
 
 " And can he be said to be wise who, with a liking for taking 
 part in the public service, is constantly letting slip his opportu- 
 nities?" 
 
 " He cannot," was the reply again. 
 
 " And the days and months are passing ; and the years do not 
 wait for us." 
 
 " True," said Confucius ; " I will take office." 
 
 It was a remark of the Master that while " by nature we ap- 
 proximate towards each other, by experience we go far asun- 
 der." 
 
 Again, " Only the supremely wise and the most deeply ignor- 
 ant do not alter." 
 
 The Master once, on his arrival at Wu-shing, heard the 
 sound of stringed instruments and singing. His face beamed 
 with pleasure, and he said laughingly, " To kill a cock — why 
 use an ox-knife ? " 
 
 Tsz-yu, the governor, replied, " In former days, sir, I heard 
 you say, * Let the superior man learn right principles, and he 
 will be loving to other men ; let the ordinary person learn right 
 principles, and he will be easily managed.' " 
 
 The Master (turning to his disciples) said, " Sirs, what he 
 says is right : what I said just now was only in play." 
 
 79
 
 8o CONFUCIUS 
 
 Having received an invitation from Kung-shan Fuh-jau, who 
 was in revolt against the government and was holding to his 
 district of Pi, the Master showed an inclination to go. 
 
 Tsz-lu was averse to this, and said, " You can never go, that 
 is certain ; how should you feel you must go to that person ? " 
 
 " Well," said the Master, " he who has invited me must surely 
 not have done so without a sufficient reason ! And if it should 
 happen that my services were enlisted, I might create for him 
 another East Chow — don't you think so ? " 
 
 Tsz-chang asked Confucius about the virtue of philanthropy. 
 His answer was, " It is the being able to put in practice five 
 qualities, in any place under the sun." 
 
 " May I ask, please, what these are ? " said the disciple. 
 
 " They are," he said, " dignity, indulgence, faithfulness, ear- 
 nestness, kindness. If you show dignity you will not be 
 mocked ; if you are indulgent you will win the multitude ; if 
 faithful, men will place their trust in you ; if earnest, you will 
 do something meritorious ; and if kind, you will be enabled to 
 avail yourself amply of men's services." 
 
 Pih Hih sent the Master an invitation, and he showed an in- 
 clination to go. 
 
 Tsz-lu (seeing this) said to him, " In former days, sir, I have 
 heard you say, ' A superior man will not enter the society of one 
 who does not that which is good in matters concerning him- 
 self ' ; and this man is in revolt, with Chung-mau in his posses- 
 sion ; if you go to him, how will the case stand ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the Master, " those are indeed my words ; but is 
 it not said, ' What is hard may be rubbed without being made 
 thin,' and * White may be stained without being made black '? 
 — I am surely not a gourd ! How am I to be strung up like 
 that kind of thing — and live wtihout means? " 
 
 " Tsz-lu," said the Master, " you have heard of the six words 
 with their six obfuscations ? " 
 
 " No," said he, " not so far." 
 
 " Sit down, and I will tell you them. They are these six 
 virtues, cared for without care for any study about them : — 
 philanthropy, wisdom, faithfulness, straightforwardness, cour- 
 age, firmness. And the six obfuscations resulting from not 
 liking to learn about them are, respectively, these : — fatuity, 
 mental dissipation, mischievousness, perversity, insubordina- 
 tion, impetuosity."
 
 THE ANALECTS 8i 
 
 " My children," said he once, " why does no one of you study 
 the Odes? — They are adapted to rouse the mind, to assist 
 observation, to make people sociable, to arouse virtuous indig- 
 nation. They speak of duties near and far — the duty of minis- 
 tering to a parent, the duty of serving one's prince; and it is 
 from them that one becomes conversant with the names of 
 many birds, and beasts, and plants, and trees." 
 
 To his son Pih-yu he said, " Study you the Odes of Chow 
 and the South, and those of Shau and the South. The man 
 who studies not these is, I should say, somewhat in the position 
 of one who stands facing a wall ! " 
 
 " * Etiquette demands it.' ' Etiquette demands it,' so people 
 plead," said he ; " but do not these hankerings after jewels and 
 silks indeed demand it? Or it is, ' The study of Music requires 
 it ' — ' Music requires it ' ; but do not these predilections for 
 bells and drums require it ? " 
 
 Again, " They who assume an outward appearance of sever- 
 ity, being inwardly weak, may be likened to low common men ; 
 nay, are they not somewhat like thieves that break through 
 walls and steal ? " 
 
 Again, " The plebeian kind of respect for piety is the very 
 pest of virtue." 
 
 Again, " Listening on the road, and repeating in the lane — 
 this is abandonment of virtue." 
 
 " Ah, the low-minded creatures! " he exclaimed. " How is 
 it possible indeed to serve one's prince in their company ? Be- 
 fore they have got what they wanted they are all anxiety to get 
 it, and after they have got it they are all anxiety lest they should 
 lose it ; and while they are thus full of concern lest they should 
 lose it, there is no length to which they will not go." 
 
 Again, " In olden times people had three moral infirmities ; 
 which, it may be, are now unknown. Ambitiousness in those 
 olden days showed itself in momentary outburst ; the ambi- 
 tiousness of to-day runs riot. Austerity in those days had its 
 sharp angles ; in these it is irritable and perverse. Feebleness 
 of intellect then was at least straightforward ; in our day it is 
 never aught but deceitful." 
 
 Again, " Rarely do we find mutual good feeling where there 
 is fine speech and studied mien." 
 
 Again, " To me it is abhorrent that purple color should be 
 made to detract from that of vermilion. Also that the Odes 
 Vol. IV.— 6
 
 82 CONFUCIUS 
 
 of Ch'ing should be allowed to introduce discord in connec- 
 tion with the music of the Festal Songs and Hymns. Also that 
 sharp-whetted tongues should be permitted to subvert govern- 
 ments." 
 
 Once said he, " Would that I could dispense with speech ! " 
 
 " Sir," said Tsz-kung, " if you were never to speak, what 
 should your pupils have to hand down from you? " 
 
 " Does Heaven ever speak ? " said the Master. " The four 
 seasons come and go, and all creatures live and grow. Does 
 Heaven indeed speak ? " 
 
 Once Ju Pi desired an interview with Confucius, from which 
 the latter excused himself on the score of ill-health ; but while 
 the attendant was passing out through the doorway with the 
 message he took his lute and sang, in such a way as to let him 
 hear him. 
 
 Tsai Wo questioned him respecting the three years' mourn- 
 ing, saying that one full twelve-month was a long time — that, if 
 gentlemen were for three years to cease from observing rules of 
 propriety, propriety must certainly suffer, and that if for three 
 years they neglected music, music must certainly die out — and 
 that seeing nature has taught us that when the old year's grain 
 is finished the new has sprung up for us — seeing also that all 
 the changes ^^ in procuring fire by friction have been gone 
 through in the four seasons — surely a twelve-month might suf- 
 fice. 
 
 The Master asked him, " Would it be a satisfaction to you — 
 that returning to better food, that putting on of fine clothes ? " 
 
 " It would," said he. 
 
 " Then if you can be satisfied in so doing, do so. But to a 
 gentleman, who is in mourning for a parent, the choicest food 
 will not be palatable, nor will the listening to music be pleasant, 
 nor will comforts of home make him happy in mind. Hence he 
 does not do as you suggest. But if you are now happy in your 
 mind, then do so." 
 
 Tsai Wo went out. And the Master went on to say, " It is 
 want of human feeling in this man. After a child has lived three 
 years it then breaks away from the tender nursing of its parents. 
 And this three years' mourning is the customary mourning 
 prevalent all over the empire. Can this man have enjoyed the 
 three years of loving care from his parents ? " 
 
 •» Different woods were adopted for this purpose at the various seasons.
 
 THE ANALECTS 83 
 
 " Ah, it is difficult," said he, " to know what to make of those 
 who are all day long cranmiing themselves with food and are 
 without anything to apply their minds to ! Are there no dice 
 and chess players? Better, perhaps, join in that pursuit than 
 do nothing at all ! " 
 
 " Does a gentleman," asked Tsz-lu, " make much account of 
 bravery ? " 
 
 " Righteousness he counts higher," said the Master. " A 
 gentleman who is brave without being just may become turbu- 
 lent ; while a common person who is brave and not just may 
 end in becoming a highwayman." 
 
 Tsz-kung asked, " I suppose a gentleman will have his aver- 
 sions as well as his likings ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the Master, " he will dislike those who talk 
 much about other people's ill-deeds. He will dislike those who, 
 when occupying inferior places, utter defamatory words against 
 their superiors. He will dislike those who, though they may 
 be brave, have no regard for propriety. And he will dislike 
 those hastily decisive and venturesome spirits who are never- 
 theless so hampered by limited intellect." 
 
 " And you, too, Tsz-kung," he continued, " have your aver- 
 sions, have you not ? " 
 
 " I dislike," said he, " those plagiarists who wish to pass for 
 wise persons. I dislike those people who wish their lack of 
 humility to be taken for bravery. I dislike also those divulgers 
 of secrets who think to be accounted straightforward." 
 
 " Of all others," said the Master, " women-servants and men- 
 servants are the most difficult people to have the care of. Ap- 
 proach them in a familiar manner, and they take liberties ; keep 
 them at a distance, and they grumble." 
 
 Again, " When a man meets with odium at forty, he will do 
 so to the end."
 
 BOOK XVIII 
 Good Men in Seclusion — Duke of Chow to His Son 
 
 " TN the reign of the last king of the Yin dynasty," Confucius 
 
 I said, " there were three men of philantliropic si)irit : — 
 the viscount of Wei, who witlidrew from him ; the vis- 
 count of Ki, wlio became his bondsman ; and Pi-kan, who re- 
 proved him and suffered death." 
 
 " Hwui of Liu-hia, who filled the office of Chief Criminal 
 Judge, was thrice dismissed. A person remarked to him, " Can 
 you not yet bear to withdraw? " He replied, " If I act in a 
 straightforward way in serving men, whither in these days 
 should I go, where I should not be thrice dismissed? Were I 
 to adopt crooked ways in their service, why need I leave the 
 land where my parents dwell? " 
 
 Duke King of Ts'i remarked respecting his attitude towards 
 Confucius, " If he is to be treated like the Chief of the Ki family, 
 I cannot do it. I should treat him as somewhere between the 
 Ki and Mang Chiefs. — I am old," he added, " and not com- 
 petent to avail myself of him." 
 
 Confucius, hearing of this, went away. 
 
 The Ts'i officials presented to the Court of Lu a number of 
 female musicians. Ki Hwan accepted them, and for three days 
 no Court was held. 
 
 Confucius went away. 
 
 Tsieh-yu, the madman-''^ of Ts'u, was once passing Confu- 
 cius, singing as he went along. He sang — 
 
 " Ha, the phoenix ! Ha, the phoenix! 
 How is Virtue lying prone ! 
 Vain to chide for what is o'er, 
 Plan to meet what's yet in store. 
 Let alone ! Let alone ! 
 Risky now to serve a throne." 
 
 's He only pretended to be mad, in order to escape being employed in the public 
 service. 
 
 84
 
 THE ANALECTS 85 
 
 Confucius alighted, wishing to enter into conversation with 
 him ; but the man hurried along and left him, and he was there- 
 fore unable to get a word with him. 
 
 Ch'ang-tsti and Kieh-nih^'' were working together on some 
 ploughed land. Confucius was passing by them, and sent Tsz- 
 lu to ask where the ford was. 
 
 Ch'ang-tsii said, " Who is the person driving the carriage ? " 
 
 " Confucius," answered Tsz-lu. 
 
 "HeofLu?" he asked. 
 
 " The same," said Tsz-lu. 
 
 " He knows then where the ford is," said he. 
 
 Tsz-lu then put his question to Kieh-nih ; and the latter 
 asked, " Who are you ? " 
 
 Tsz-lu gave his name. 
 
 " You are a follower of Confucius of Lu, are you not ? " 
 
 " You are right," he answered. 
 
 " Ah, as these waters rise and overflow their bounds," said 
 he, " 'tis so with all throughout the empire ; and who is he that 
 can alter the state of things? And you are a follower of a 
 learned man who withdraws from his chief; had you not better 
 be a follower of such as have forsaken the world ? " And he 
 went on with his harrowing, without stopping. 
 
 Tsz-lu went and informed his Master of all this. He was 
 deeply touched, and said, " One cannot herd on equal terms 
 with beasts and birds : if I am not to live among these human 
 folk, then with whom else should I live? Only when the em- 
 pire is well ordered shall I cease to take part in the work of 
 reformation." 
 
 Tsz-lu was following the Master, but had dropped behind on 
 the way, when he encountered an old man with a weed-basket 
 slung on a staff over his shoulder. Tsz-lu inquired of him, 
 " Have you seen my Master, sir? " Said the old man, " Who 
 is your master? — you who never employ your four limbs in 
 laborious work ; you who do not know one from another of the 
 five sorts of grain ! " And he stuck his staff in the ground, and 
 began his weeding. 
 
 Tsz-lu brought his hands together on his breast and stood 
 still. 
 
 The old man kept Tsz-lu and lodged him for the night, killed 
 
 ** Two worthies who had abandoned public life, owing to the state of the 
 times.
 
 86 CONFUCIUS 
 
 a fowl and prepared some millet, entertained him, and brought 
 his two sons out to see him. 
 
 On the morrow Tsz-lu went on his way, and told all this to the 
 Master, who said, " He is a recluse," and sent Tsz-lu back to 
 see him again. But by the time he got there he was gone. 
 
 Tsz-lu remarked upon this, " It is not right he should evade 
 official duties. If he cannot allow any neglect of the terms on 
 which elders and juniors should live together, how is it that he 
 neglects to conform to what is proper as between prince and 
 public servant? He wishes for himself personally a pure life, 
 yet creates disorder in that more important relationship. When 
 a gentleman undertakes pubHc work, he will carry out the 
 duties proper to it ; and he knows beforehand that right princi- 
 ples may not win their way." 
 
 Among those who have retired from public life have been 
 Peh-I and Shuh-Ts'i, Yu-chung, I-yih, Chu-chang, Hwui of 
 Liuhia, and Shau-lien. 
 
 " Of these," said the Master, " Peh-I and Shuh-Ts'i may be 
 characterized, I should say, as men who never declined from 
 their high resolve nor soiled themselves by aught of disgrace. 
 
 " Of Hwui of Liu-hia and Shau-lien, if one may say that they 
 did decline from high resolve, and that they did bring disgrace 
 upon themselves, yet their words were consonant with estab- 
 lished principles, and their action consonant with men's 
 thoughts and wishes ; and this is all that may be said of them. 
 
 " Of Yu-chung and I-yih, if it be said that when they retired 
 into privacy they let loose their tongues, yet in their aim at 
 personal purity of life they succeeded, and their defection was 
 also successful in its influence. 
 
 " My own rule is different from any adopted by these : I will 
 take no liberties, I will have no curtaiHng of my hberty." 
 
 The chief music-master went off to Ts'i. Kan, the conduc- 
 tor of the music at the second repast, went over to Ts'u. Liau, 
 conductor at the third repast, went over to Ts'ai. And Kiueh, 
 who conducted at the fourth, went to Ts'in. 
 
 Fang-shuh, the drummer, withdrew into the neighborhood of 
 the Ho. Wu the tambourer went to the Han. And Yang the 
 junior music-master, and Siang who played on the musical 
 stone, went to the sea-coast. 
 
 Anciently the Duke of Chow, addressing his son the Duke of 
 Lu, said, " A good man in high place is not indifferent about
 
 THE ANALECTS 87 
 
 the members of his own family, and does not give occasion to 
 the chief ministers to complain that they are not employed; 
 nor without great cause will he set aside old friendships ; nor 
 does he seek for full equipment for every kind of service in any 
 single man." 
 
 There were once eight officials during this Chow dynasty, 
 who were four pairs of twins, all brothers — the eldest pair Tab 
 and Kwoh, the next Tuh and Hwuh, the third Ye and Hia, the 
 youngest Sui and Kwa.
 
 BOOK XIX 
 Teachings of Various Chief Disciples 
 
 " •" I ^ HE learned official," said Tsz-chang, " who when he 
 I sees danger ahead will risk his very life, who when 
 
 he sees a chance of success is mindful of what is just 
 and proper, who in his religious acts is mindful of the duty of 
 reverence, and when in mourning thinks of his loss, is indeed a 
 fit and proper person for his place." 
 
 Again he said, " If a person hold to virtue but never advance 
 in it, and if he have faith in right principles and do not build 
 himself up in them, how can he be regarded either as having 
 such, or as being without them ? " 
 
 Tsz-hia's disciples asked Tsz-chang his views about inter- 
 course with others. " What says your Master? " he rejoined, 
 " He says," they replied, " ' Associate with those who are quali- 
 fied, and repel from you such as are not.' " Tsz-chang then 
 said, " That is different from what I have learnt. A superior 
 man esteems the worthy and wise, and bears with all. He 
 makes much of the good and capable, and pities the incapable. 
 Am I eminently worthy and wise? — who is there then among 
 men whom I will not bear with ? Am I not worthy and wise ? — 
 others will be minded to repel me: I have nothing to do with 
 repelling them." 
 
 Sayings of Tsz-hia : — 
 
 " Even in inferior pursuits there must be something worthy 
 of contemplation, but if carried to an extreme there is danger 
 of fanaticism; hence the superior man does not engage in 
 them. 
 
 " The student who daily recognizes how much he yet lacks, 
 and as the months pass forgets not what he has succeeded in 
 learning, may undoubtedly be called a lover of learning. 
 
 " Wide research and steadfast purpose, eager questioning 
 and close reflection — all this tends to humanize a man.
 
 THE ANALECTS 89 
 
 " As workmen spend their time in their workshops for the 
 perfecting of their work, so superior men apply their minds to 
 study in order to make themselves thoroughly conversant with 
 their subjects. 
 
 " When an inferior man does a wrong thing, he is sure to 
 gloss it over, 
 
 " The superior man is seen in three different aspects : — look 
 at him from a distance, he is imposing in appearance ; approach 
 him, he is gentle and warm-hearted ; hear him speak, he is 
 acute and strict. 
 
 " Let such a man have the people's confidence, and he will 
 get much work out of them ; so long, however, as he does not 
 possess their confidence they will regard him as grinding them 
 down. 
 
 " When confidence is reposed in him, he may then with im- 
 punity administer reproof ; so long as it is not, he will be re- 
 garded as a detractor. 
 
 " Where there is no over-stepping of barriers in the practice 
 of the higher virtues, there may be freedom to pass in and out 
 in the practice of the lower ones." 
 
 Tsz-yu had said, " The pupils in the school of Tsz-hia are 
 good enough at such things as sprinkling and scrubbing floors, 
 answering calls and replying to questions from superiors, and 
 advancing and retiring to and from such ; but these things are 
 only ofifshoots — as to the root of things they are nowhere. 
 What is the use of all that ? " 
 
 When this came to the ears of Tsz-hia, he said, " Ah ! there 
 he is mistaken. What does a master, in his methods of teach- 
 ing, consider first in his precepts ? And what does he account 
 next, as that about which he may be indifferent ? It is like as 
 in the study of plants — classification by differentia:. How may 
 a master play fast and loose in his methods of instruction? 
 Would they not indeed be sages, who could take in at once the 
 first principles and the final developments of things? " 
 
 Further observations of Tsz-hia : — 
 
 " In the public service devote what energy and time remain 
 to study. After study devote what energy and time remain to 
 the public service. 
 
 " As to the duties of mourning, let them cease when the grief 
 is past. 
 
 " My friend Tsz-chang, although he has the ability to tackle 
 hard things, has not yet the virtue of philanthropy."
 
 9° 
 
 CONFUCIUS 
 
 The learned Tsang observed, " How loftily Tsz-chang bears 
 himself! Difficult indeed along with him to practise philan- 
 thropy ! " 
 
 Again he said, " I have heard this said by the Master, that 
 ' though men may not exert themselves to the utmost in other 
 duties, yet surely in the duty of mourning for their parents they 
 will do so ! ' " 
 
 Again, " This also I have heard said by the Master : * The 
 filial piety of Mang Chwang in other respects might be equalled, 
 but as manifested in his making no changes among his father's 
 ministers, nor in his father's mode of government — that aspect 
 of it could not easily be equalled.' " 
 
 Yang Fu, having been made senior Criminal Judge by the 
 Chief of the Mang clan, consulted with the learned Tsang. 
 The latter advised him as follows : " For a long time the Chiefs 
 have failed in their government, and the people have become 
 unsettled. When you arrive at the facts of their cases, do not 
 rejoice at your success in that, but rather be sorry for them, 
 and have pity upon them." 
 
 Tsz-kung once observed, " We speak of ' the iniquity of 
 Chau ' — but 'twas not so great as this." And so it is that the 
 superior man is averse from settling in this sink, into which 
 everything runs that is foul in the empire." 
 
 Again he said, " Faults in a superior man are like eclipses of 
 the sun or moon : when he is guilty of a trespass men all see it ; 
 and when he is himself again, all look up to him." 
 
 Kung-sun Ch'au of Wei inquired of Tsz-kung how Confucius 
 acquired his learning. 
 
 Tsz-kung replied, " The teachings of Wan and Wu have not 
 yet fallen to the ground. They exist in men. Worthy and 
 wise men have the more important of these stored up in their 
 minds ; and others, who are not such, store up the less impor- 
 tant of them ; and as no one is thus without the teachings of 
 Wan and Wu, how should our Master not have learned ? And 
 moreover what permanent preceptor could he have ? " 
 
 Shuh-sun Wu-shuh, addressing the high officials at the 
 Court, remarked that Tsz-kung was a greater worthy than Con- 
 fucius. 
 
 Tsz-fuh King-pih went and informed Tsz-kung of this re- 
 mark. 
 
 Tsz-kung said, " Take by way of comparison the walls out-
 
 THE ANALECTS 
 
 9» 
 
 side our houses. My wall is shoulder-high, and you may look 
 over it arid see what the house and its contents are worth. My 
 Master's wall is tens of feet high, and unless you should effect 
 an entrance by the door, you would fail to behold the beauty of 
 the ancestral hall and the rich array of all its ofifi'cers. And 
 they who efifect an entrance by the door, methinks, are few ! 
 Was it not, however, just like him — that remark of the Chief? " 
 
 Shuh-sun Wu-shuh had been casting a slur on the character 
 of Confucius. 
 
 " No use doing that," said Tsz-kung; " he is irreproachable. 
 The wisdom and worth of other men are little hills and mounds 
 of earth : traversible. He is the sun, or the moon, impossible to 
 reach and pass. And what harm, I ask, can a man do to the 
 sun or the moon, by wishing to intercept himself from either? 
 It all shows that he knows not how to gauge capacity." 
 
 Tsz-k'in, addressing Tsz-kung, said, " You depreciate your- 
 self. Confucius is surely not a greater worthy than yourself." 
 
 Tsz-kung replied, " In the use of words one ought never to 
 be incautious ; because a gentleman for one single utterance of 
 his is apt to be considered a wise man, and for a single utterance 
 may be accounted unwise. No more might one think of attain- 
 ing to the Master's perfections than think of going upstairs to 
 Heaven ! Were it ever his fortune to be at the head of the 
 government of a country, then that which is spoken of as 'es- 
 tablishing the country ' would be estabhshment indeed ; he 
 would be its guide and it would follow him, he would tran- 
 quillize it and it would render its willing homage : he would 
 give forward impulses to it to which it would harmoniously 
 respond. In his life he would be its glory, at his death there 
 would be great lamentation. How indeed could such as he be 
 equalled ? "
 
 BOOK XX 
 
 Extracts from the Book of History 
 
 THE Emperor Yau said to Shun, " Ah, upon you, upon 
 your person, Hes the Heaven-appointed order of suc- 
 cession ! Faithfully hold to it, without any deflection ; 
 for if within the four seas necessity and want befall the people, 
 your own revenue will forever come to an end." 
 
 Shun also used the same language in handing down the ap- 
 pointment to Yu. 
 
 The Emperor T'ang in his prayer, said, " I, the child Li, pre- 
 sume to avail me of an ox of dusky hue, and presume to mani- 
 festly announce to Thee, O God, the most high and Sovereign 
 Potentate, that to the transgressor I dare not grant forgiveness, 
 nor yet keep in abeyance Thy ministers. Judgment rests in 
 Thine heart, O God. Should we ourself transgress, may the 
 guilt not be visited everywhere upon all. Should the people 
 all transgress, be the guilt upon ourself! " 
 
 Chow possessed great gifts, by which the able and good 
 were richly endowed. 
 
 " Although," said King Wu, " he is surrounded by his near 
 relatives, they are not to be compared with men of humane 
 spirit. The people are suffering wrongs, and the remedy rests 
 with me — the one man." 
 
 After Wu had given diligent attention to the various weights 
 and measures, examined the laws and regulations, and re- 
 stored the degraded officials, good government everywhere 
 ensued. 
 
 He caused ruined States to flourish again, reinstated inter- 
 cepted heirs, and promoted to ofBce men who had gone into re- 
 tirement ; and the hearts of the people throughout the empire 
 drew towards him. 
 
 Among matters of prime consideration wnth him were these — 
 food for the people, the duty of mourning, and sacrificial offer- 
 ings to the departed. 
 
 He was liberal and laige-hearted, and so won all hearts ; true, 
 
 92
 
 THE ANALECTS 93 
 
 and so was trusted by the people ; energetic, and thus became a 
 man of great achievements; just in his rule, and all were well 
 content. 
 
 Tsz-chang in a conversation with Confucius asked, " What 
 say you is essential for the proper conduct of government ? " 
 
 The Master replied, " Let the ruler hold in high estimation 
 the five excellences, and eschew the four evils; then may he 
 conduct his government properly." 
 
 " And what call you the five excellences ? " he was asked, 
 
 " They are," he said, " Bounty without extravagance ; bur- 
 dening without exciting discontent ; desire without covetous- 
 ness ; dignity without haughtiness ; show of majesty without 
 fierceness." 
 
 " What mean you," asked Tsz-chang, " by bounty without 
 extravagance ? " 
 
 " Is it not this," he replied — " to make that which is of benefit 
 to the people still more beneficial ? When he selects for them 
 such labors as it is possible for them to do, and exacts them, 
 who will then complain ? So when his desire is the virtue of 
 humaneness, and he attains it, how shall he then be covetous ? 
 And if — whether he have to do with few or with many, with 
 small or with great — he do not venture ever to be careless, is 
 not this also to have dignity without haughtiness? And if — 
 when properly vested in robe and cap, and showing dignity in 
 his every look — his appearance be so imposing that the people 
 look up to and stand in awe of him, is not this moreover to 
 show majesty without fierceness? " 
 
 " What, then, do you call the four evils? " said Tsz-chang. 
 
 The answer here was, " Omitting to instruct the people and 
 then inflicting capital punishment on them — which means cruel 
 tyranny. Omitting to give them warning and yet looking for 
 perfection in them — which means oppression. Being slow and 
 late in issuing requisitions, and exacting strict punctuality in 
 the returns — which means robbery. And likewise, in inter- 
 course with men, to expend and to receive in a stingy manner — 
 which is to act the part of a mere commissioner." 
 
 " None can be a superior man," said the Master, " who does 
 not recognize the decrees of Heaven. 
 
 " None can have stability in him without a knowledge of the 
 proprieties. 
 
 " None can know a man without knowing his utterances."
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 [Translated into English by James Legge]
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 A HUNDRED years after the time of Confucius the 
 Chinese nation seemed to have fallen back into their 
 
 original condition of lawlessness and oppression. The 
 King's power and authority was laughed to scorn, the peo- 
 ple were pillaged by the feudal nobility, and famine reigned in 
 many districts. The foundations of truth and social order 
 seemed to be overthrown. There were teachers of immorality 
 abroad, who published the old Epicurean doctrine, " Let us eat 
 and drink, for to-morrow we die." This teaching was accom- 
 panied by a spirit of cold-blooded egotism which extinguished 
 every spark of Confucian altruism. Even the pretended disci- 
 ples of Confucius confused the precepts of the Master, and by 
 stripping them of their narrow significance rendered them nuga- 
 tory. It was at this point that Mang-tsze, " Mang the philoso- 
 pher," arose. He was sturdy in bodily frame, vigorous in 
 mind, profound in political sagacity and utterly fearless in de- 
 nouncing the errors of his countrymen. He had been brought 
 up among the disciples of Confucius, in whose province he was 
 born B.C. 372, but he was much more active and aggressive, less 
 a Mystic than a fanatic, in comparison wi. his Master. Here- 
 solved on active measures in stemming the tendency of his day. 
 He did indeed surround himself with a school of disciples, but 
 instead of making a series of desultory travels, teaching in re- 
 mote places and along the high-road, he went to the heart of 
 the evil. He presented himself like a second John the Baptist 
 at the courts of kings and princes, and there boldly denounced 
 vice and misrule. It was not difificult for a Chinese scholar and 
 teacher to find access to the highest of the land. The Chinese 
 believed in the divine right of learning, just as they believed in 
 the divine right of kings. Mang employed every weapon of 
 persuasion in trying to combat heresy and oppression ; alter- 
 nately ridiculing and reproving: now appealing in a burst of 
 
 Vol. IV.— 7 97
 
 98 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 moral enthusiasm, and now denouncing in terms of cutting 
 sarcasm the abuses which after all he failed to check. The last 
 prince whom he successfully confronted was the Marquis of 
 Lu, who turned him carelessly away. He accepted this as the 
 Divine sentence of his failure, " That I have not found in this 
 marquis, a ruler who would hearken to me is an intimation of 
 heaven. Henceforth he lived in retirement until his ninety- 
 seventh year ; but from his apparent failure sprang a practical 
 success. His written teachings are amongst the most lively 
 and epigrammatic works of Chinese literature, have done much 
 to keep alive amongst his countrymen the spirit of Confucian- 
 ism, and even Western readers may drink wisdom from this 
 spring of Oriental lore. The following selections from his 
 sayings well exhibit the spirit of his system of philosophy and 
 morality: E. W.
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 KING HWUY OF LEANG 
 
 Part I 
 
 MENCIUS went to see King Hwuy of Leang.* The king 
 said, " Venerable Sir, since you have not counted it 
 far to come here a distance of a thousand H, may I 
 presume that you are Hkewise provided with counsels to profit 
 my kingdom ? " Mencius replied, " Why must your Majesty 
 used that word ' profit ' ? What I am likewise provided with 
 are counsels to benevolence and righteousness ; and these are 
 my only topics. 
 
 " If your Majesty say, ' What is to be done to profit my 
 kingdom ? ' the great officers will say, ' What is to be done to 
 profit our families ? ' and the inferior ofificers and the common 
 people will say, ' What is to be done to profit our persons? ' 
 Superiors and inferiors will try to take the profit the one 
 from the other, and the kingdom will be endangered. In the 
 kingdom of ten thousand chariots, the murderer of his ruler will 
 be the chief of a family of a thousand chariots. In the State 
 of a thousand chariots, the murderer of his ruler will be the 
 chief of a family of a hundred chariots. To have a thousand 
 in ten thousand, and a hundred in a thousand, cannot be re- 
 garded as not a large allowance ; but if righteousness be put 
 last and profit first, they will not be satisfied without snatching 
 all. 
 
 * The title of this book in Chinese is Book is divided into two parts. This ar- 
 — " King Hwuy of Leang; in chapters ran^ement was made by Chaou K'e, and 
 and sentences." Like the Books of the to him are due also the divisions into chap- 
 Confucian Analects, those of this work ters, and sentences, or paragraphs, con- 
 are headed by two or three words at or taining, it may be, many sentences, 
 near the commencement of them. Each • 
 
 99
 
 lOo THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 " There never was a man trained to benevolence who neg- 
 lected his parents. There never was a man trained to right- 
 eousness who made his ruler an after consideration. Let your 
 Majesty likewise make benevolence and righteousness your 
 only themes — Why must you speak of profit ? " 
 
 When Mencius, another day, was seeing King Hwuy of 
 Leang, the King went and stood with him by a pond, and, 
 looking round on the wild geese and deer, large and small, 
 said, " Do wise and good princes also take pleasure in these 
 things? " Mencius replied, " Being wise and good, they then 
 have pleasure in these things. If they are not wise and good, 
 though they have these things, they do not find pleasure. " It 
 is said in the ' Book of Poetry ' : — 
 
 * When he planned the commencement of the Marvellous tower, 
 He planned it, and defined it, 
 And the people in crowds undertook the work, 
 And in no time completed it. 
 
 When he planned the commencement, he said, " Be not in a hurry." 
 But the people came as if they were his children. 
 The king was in the Marvellous park, 
 Where the does were lying down — 
 The does so sleek and fat ; 
 With the white birds glistening. 
 The king was by the Marvellous pond ; — 
 How full was it of fishes leaping about! ' 
 
 King Wan used the strength of the people to make his tower 
 and pond, and the people rejoiced to do the work, calHng the 
 tower ' the Marvellous Tower,' and the pond ' the Marvellous 
 Pond,' and being glad that he had his deer, his fishes and tur- 
 tles. The ancients caused their people to have pleasure as well 
 as themselves, and therefore they could enjoy it. 
 
 " In the Declaration of T'ang it is said, ' O Sun, when wilt 
 thou expire? We will die together with thee.' The people 
 wished for Keeh's death, though they should die with him. 
 Although he had his tower, his pond, birds and animals, how 
 could he have pleasure alone ? " 
 
 King Hwuy of Leang said, " Small as my virtue is, in the 
 government of my kingdom, I do indeed exert my mind to the 
 utmost. If the year be bad inside the Ho, I remove as many 
 of the people as I can to the east of it, and convey grain to the 
 country inside. If the year be bad on the east of the river, I
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS loi 
 
 act on the same plan. On examining the governmental meth- 
 ods of the neighboring kingdoms, I do not find there is any 
 ruler who exerts his mind as I do. And yet the people of the 
 neighboring kings do not decrease, nor do my people increase — 
 how is this? " 
 
 Mencius replied, " Your Majesty loves war ; allow me to 
 take an illustration from war. The soldiers move forward at 
 the sound of the drum ; and when the edges of their weapons 
 have been crossed, on one side, they throw away their buff 
 coats, trail their weapons behind them, and run. Some run a 
 hundred paces and then stop ; some run fifty paces and stop. 
 What would you think if these, because they had run but 
 fifty paces, should laugh at those who ran a hundred paces ? " 
 The king said, " They cannot do so. They only did not run 
 a hundred paces ; but they also ran." Mencius said, " Since 
 your Majesty knows this you have no ground to expect that 
 your people will become more numerous than those of the 
 neighboring kingdoms. 
 
 " If the seasons of husbandry be not interfered with, the grain 
 will be more than can be eaten. If close nets are not allowed 
 to enter the pools and ponds, the fish and turtles will be more 
 than can be consumed. If the axes and bills enter the hill- 
 forests only at the proper times, the wood will be more than can 
 be used. When the grain and fish and turtles are more than 
 can be eaten, and there is more wood than can be used, this 
 enables the people to nourish their living and do all ofifices for 
 their dead, without any feeling against any. But this condi- 
 tion, in which the people nourish their living, and do all offices 
 to their dead without having any feeling against any, is the 
 first step in the Royal way. 
 
 " Let mulberry trees be planted about the homesteads with 
 their five acres, and persons of fifty years will be able to wear 
 silk. In keeping fowls, pigs, dogs, and swine, let not their time 
 of breeding be neglected, and persons of seventy years will 
 be able to eat flesh. Let there not be taken away the time that 
 is proper for the cultivation of the field allotment of a hundred 
 acres, and the family of several mouths will not suffer from 
 hunger. Let careful attention be paid to the teaching in the 
 various schools, with repeated inculcation of the filial and fra- 
 ternal duties, and gray-haired men will not be seen upon the 
 roads, carrying burdens on their backs or on their heads. It
 
 I02 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 has never been that the ruler of a State where these resuhs were 
 seen, persons of seventy wearing silk and eating flesh, and the 
 black-haired people suffering neither from hunger nor cold, did 
 not attain to the Royal dignity. 
 
 " Your dogs and swine eat the food of men, and you do not 
 know to store up of the abundance. There are people dying 
 from famine on the roads, and you do not know to issue your 
 stores for their relief. When men die, you say, ' It is not 
 owing to me ; it is owing to the year.' In what does this differ 
 from stabbing a man and killing him, and then saying, ' It was 
 not I ; it was the weapon ' ? Let your Majesty cease to lay the 
 blame on the year and instantly the people, all under the sky, 
 will come to you." 
 
 King Hwuy of Leang said, " I wish quietly to receive your 
 instructions." Mencius replied, " Is there any difference be- 
 tween kilhng a man with a stick and with a sword ? " " There 
 is no difference," was the answer. 
 
 Mencius continued, " Is there any difference between doing 
 it with a sword and with governmental measures ? " " There 
 is not," was the answer again. 
 
 Mencius then said, " In your stalls there are fat beasts ; in 
 your stables there are fat horses. But your people have the 
 look of hunger, and in the fields there are those who have died 
 of famine. This is leading on beasts to devour men. Beasts 
 devour one another, and men hate them for doing so. When 
 he who is called the parent of the people conducts his govern- 
 ment so as to be chargeable with leading on beasts to devour 
 men, where is that parental relation to the people ? Chung-ne 
 said, ' Was he not without posterity who first made wooden 
 images to bury with the dead ? ' So he said, because that man 
 made the semblances of men and used them for that purpose ; 
 what shall be thought of him who causes his people to die of 
 hunger? " 
 
 King Hwuy of Leang said, " There was not in the kingdom 
 a stronger State than Ts'in, as you, venerable Sir, know. But 
 since it descended to me, on the east we were defeated by Ts'e, 
 and then my eldest son perished ; on the west we lost seven 
 hundred li of territory to Ts'in ; and on the south we have sus- 
 tained disgrace at the hands of Ts'oo. I have brought shame 
 on my departed predecessors, and wish on their account to 
 wipe it away once for all. What course is to be pursued to ac- 
 complish this? "
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 103 
 
 i\Iencius replied, " With a territory only a hundred li square 
 it has been possible to obtain the Royal dignity. If your 
 Majesty will indeed dispense a benevolent government to the 
 people, being- sparing in the use of punishments and fines, and 
 making the taxes and levies of produce light, so causing that 
 the fields shall be ploughed deep, and the weeding well attended 
 to, and that the able-bodied, during their days of leisure, shall 
 cultivate their filial piety, fraternal duty, faithfulness, and truth, 
 serving thereby, at home, their fathers and elder brothers, and, 
 abroad, their elders and superiors, you will then have a people 
 who can be employed with sticks which they have prepared to 
 oppose the strong bufif-coats and sharp weapons of the troops 
 of Ts'in and Ts'oo. 
 
 " The rulers of those States rob their people of their time, so 
 that they cannot plough and weed their fields in order to sup- 
 port their parents. Parents suffer from cold and hunger ; elder 
 and younger brothers, wives and children, are separated and 
 scattered abroad. Those rulers drive their people into pitfalls 
 or into the water; and your Majesty will go to punish them. 
 In such a case, who will oppose your Majesty? In accord- 
 ance with this is the saying, ' The benevolent has no enemy ! ' 
 I beg your Majesty not to doubt what I said." 
 
 Mencius had an interview with King Seang* of Leang. 
 When he came out he said to some persons, " When I looked at 
 him from a distance, he did not appear like a ruler; when I 
 drew near to him, I saw nothing venerable about him. Abrupt- 
 ly he asked me, ' How can the kingdom, all under the sky, be 
 settled? ' I replied, ' It will be settled by being united under 
 one sway.' 
 
 " ' Who can so unite it? ' he asked. 
 
 " I replied, ' He who has no pleasure in killing men can so 
 unite it.' 
 
 " ' Who can give it to him ? ' he asked. 
 
 " I replied, ' All under heaven will give it to him. Does 
 your Majesty know the way of the growing grain ? During the 
 seventh and eighth months, when drought prevails, the plants 
 become dry. Then the clouds collect densely in the heavens, 
 
 * Seang was the son of King Hwuy. interview here recorded seems to have 
 
 The first year of his reign is supposed taken place immediately after Hih's ac- 
 
 to be B. c. 317. Seang's name was Hih. cession, and Mencius, it is said, was so 
 
 As a posthumous epithet, Seang has va- disappointed by it that he soon after left 
 
 rious meanings: " Land-enlarger and the country. 
 Virtuous "; " Successful in Arms." The
 
 I04 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 and send down torrents of rain, so that the grain erects itself as 
 if by a shoot. When it does so, who can keep it back? Now 
 among those who are shepherds of men throughout the king- 
 dom, there is not one who does not find pleasure in killing men. 
 If there were one who did not find pleasure in killing men, all 
 the people under the sky would be looking towards him with 
 outstretched necks. Such being indeed the case, the people 
 would go to him as water flows downwards with a rush, which 
 no one can repress." 
 
 King Seuen of Ts'e asked, saying, " May I be informed by 
 you of the transactions of Hwan of Ts'e and Wan of Ts'in ? ' 
 
 Mencius replied, " There were none of the disciples of Chung- 
 ne who spoke about the affairs of Hwan and Wan, and there- 
 fore they have not been transmitted to these after-ages ; your 
 servant has not heard of them. If you will have me speak, let it 
 be about the principles of attaining to the Royal sway." 
 
 The king said, " Of what kind must his virtue be who can 
 attain to the Royal sway?" Mencius said, " If he loves and 
 protects the people, it is impossible to prevent him from attain- 
 ing it." 
 
 The king said, " Is such an one as poor I competent to love 
 and protect the people?" "Yes," was the reply. "From 
 what do you know that I am competent to that ? " "I have 
 heard," said Mencius, " from Hoo Heih the following inci- 
 dent : — ' The king,' said he, ' was sitting aloft in the hall, when 
 some people appeared leading a bull past below it. The king 
 saw it, and asked where the bull was going, and being answered 
 that they were going to consecrate a bell with its blood, he said, 
 " Let it go, I cannot bear its frightened appearance — as if it 
 were an innocent person going to the place of death." They 
 asked in reply whether, if they did so, they should omit the 
 consecration of the bell, but the king said, " How can that be 
 omitted? Change it for a sheep." I do not know whether 
 this incident occurred." 
 
 " It did," said the king, and Mencius repHed, " The heart 
 seen in this is suflficient to carry you to the Royal sway. The 
 people all supposed that your Majesty grudged the animal, 
 but your servant knows surely that it was your Majesty's not 
 being able to bear the sight of the creature's distress which 
 made you do as you did." 
 
 The king said, " You are right ; and yet there really was an
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 105 
 
 appearance of what the people imagined. But though Ts'e be 
 narrow and small, how should I grudge a bull? Indeed it was 
 because I could not bear its frightened appearance, as if it were 
 an innocent person going to the place of death, that therefore I 
 changed it for a sheep." 
 
 Mencius said, " Let not your Majesty deem it strange that 
 the people should think you grudged the animal. When you 
 changed a large one for a small, how should they know the true 
 reason? If you felt pained by its being led without any guilt 
 to the place of death, what was there to choose between a bull 
 and a sheep?" The king laughed and said, ''What really 
 was my mind in the matter? I did not grudge the value of 
 the bull, and yet I changed it for a sheep ! There was reason in 
 the people's saying that I grudged the creature." 
 
 Mencius said, " There is no harm in their saying so. It was 
 an artifice of benevolence. You saw the bull, and had not seen 
 the sheep. So is the superior man affected towards animals, 
 that, having seen them alive, he cannot bear to see them die, 
 and, having heard their dying cries, he cannot bear to eat their 
 flesh. On this account he keeps away from his stalls and 
 kitchen." 
 
 The king was pleased and said, " The Ode says, 
 
 ' What other men have in their minds, 
 I can measure by reflection.' 
 
 This might be spoken of you, my Master. I indeed did the 
 thing, but when I turned my thoughts inward and sought for 
 it, I could not discover my own mind. When you. Master, 
 spoke those words, the movements of compassion began to 
 work in my mind. But how is it that this heart has in it what 
 is equal to the attainment of the Royal sway ? " 
 
 Mencius said, " Suppose a man were to make this statement 
 to your Majesty, ' My strength is sufihcient to lift three thou- 
 sand catties, but is not sufficient to life one feather ; my eye- 
 sight is sharp enough to examine the point of an autumn hair, 
 but I do not see a wagon-load of fagots,' would your Majesty 
 allow what he said?" "No," was the king's remark, and 
 Mencius proceded, " Now here is kindness sufficient to reach 
 to animals, and yet no benefits are extended from it to the peo- 
 ple — how is this ? is an exception to be made here ? The truth 
 is, the feather's not being lifted is because the strength was not
 
 io6 THE SAYINGS OF iMENCIUS 
 
 used ; the wagon-load of firewood's not being seen is because 
 the eyesight was not used ; and the people's not being loved 
 and protected is because the kindness is not used. Therefore 
 your Majesty's not attaining to the Royal sway is because you 
 do not do it, and not because you are not able to do it." 
 
 The king asked, " How may the difference between him who 
 does not do a thing and him who is not able to do it be graphi- 
 cally set forth ? " Mencius replied, " In such a thing as taking 
 the T'ae mountain under your arm, and leaping with it over 
 the North Sea, if you say to people, ' I am not able to do it,' 
 that is a real case of not being able. In such a matter as break- 
 ing off a branch from a tree at the order of a superior, if you 
 say to people, ' I am not able to do it,' it is not a case of not 
 being able to do it. And so your Majesty's not attaining to the 
 Royal sway is not such a case as that of taking the T'ae moun- 
 tain under your arm and leaping over the North Sea with it ; 
 but it is a case like that of breaking off a branch from a tree. 
 
 " Treat with reverence due to age the elders in your own 
 family, so that those in the families of others shall be similarly 
 treated ; treat with the kindness due to youth the young in your 
 own family, so that those in the families of others shall be simi- 
 larly treated — do this and the kingdom may be made to go 
 round in your palm. It is said in the ' Book of Poetry,' 
 
 ' His example acted on his wife, 
 Extended to his brethren, 
 And was felt by all the clans and States;* 
 
 telling us how King Wan simply took this kindly heart, and 
 exercised it towards those parties. Therefore the carrying out 
 of the feeling of kindness by a ruler will suffice for the love and 
 protection of all within the four seas ; and if he do not carry 
 it out, he will not be able to protect his wife and children. The 
 way in which the ancients came greatly to surpass other men 
 was no other than this, that they carried out well what they did, 
 so as to affect others. Now your kindness is sufficient to reach 
 to animals, and yet no benefits are extended from it to the 
 people. How is this ? Is an exception to be made here ? 
 
 " By weighing we know what things are light, and what 
 heavy. By measuring we know what things are long, and 
 what short. All things are so dealt with, and the mind requires 
 specially to be so. I beg your Majesty to measure it.
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 107 
 
 " Your Majesty collects your equipments of war, endangers 
 your soldiers and officers and excites the resentment of the 
 various princes — do these things cause you pleasure in your 
 mind? " 
 
 The king said, " No. How should I derive pleasure from 
 these things ? My object in them is to seek for what I greatly 
 desire." 
 
 Mencius said, " May I hear from you what it is that your 
 Majesty greatly desires ? " The king laughed, and did not 
 speak. Mencius resumed, " Are you led to desire it because 
 you have not enough of rich and sweet food for your mouth ? 
 or because you have not enough of light and warm clothing for 
 your body? or because you have not enough of beautifully 
 colored objects to satisfy your eyes ? or because there are not 
 voices and sounds enough to fill your ears? or because you 
 have not enough of attendants and favorites to stand before you 
 and receive your orders ? Your Majesty's various officers are 
 sufficient to supply you with all these things. How can your 
 Majesty have such a desire on account of them ? " " No," said 
 the king, " my desire is not on account of them." Mencius 
 observed, " Then what your Majesty greatly desires can be 
 known. You desire to enlarge your territories, to have Ts'in 
 and Ts'oo coming to your court, to rule the Middle States, and 
 to attract to you the barbarous tribes that surround them. But 
 to do what you do in order to seek for what you desire is like 
 climbing a tree to seek for fish." 
 
 " Is it so bad as that ? " said the king. " I apprehend it is 
 worse," was the reply. " If you climb a tree to seek for fish, 
 although you do not get the fish, you have no subsequent calam- 
 ity. But if you do what you do in order to seek for what you 
 desire, doing it even with all your heart, you will assuredly 
 afterwards meet with calamities." The king said, " May I hear 
 what they will be ? " Mencius replied, " If the people of Tsow 
 were fighting with the people of Ts'oo, which of them does your 
 Majesty think would conquer? " " The people of Ts'oo would 
 conquer," was the answer, and Mencius pursued, " So then, a 
 small State cannot contend with a great, few cannot contend 
 with many, nor can the weak contend with the strong. The 
 territory within the seas would embrace nine divisions, each of 
 a thousand li square. All Ts'e together is one of them. If 
 with one part you try to subdue the other eight, what is the dif-
 
 lo8 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 fercnce between that and Tsow's contending with Ts'oo? 
 With the desire which you have, you must turn back to the 
 proper course for its attainment. 
 
 " Now, if your Majesty will institute a government whose 
 action shall all be benevolent, this will cause all the officers in 
 the kingdom to wish to stand in your Majesty's court, the 
 farmers all to wish to plough in your Majesty's fields, the mer- 
 chants, both travelling and stationary, all to wish to store their 
 goods in your Majesty's market-places, travellers and visitors 
 all to wish to travel on your Majesty's roads, and all under 
 heaven who feel aggrieved by their rulers to wish to come and 
 complain to your Majesty. When they are so bent, who will be 
 able to keep them back ? " 
 
 The king said, " I am stupid and cannot advance to this. 
 But I wish you, my Master, to assist my intentions. Teach me 
 clearly, and although I am deficient in intelligence and vigor, 
 I should like to try at least to institute such a government." 
 
 Mencius replied, " They are only men of education, who, 
 without a certain livelihood, are able to maintain a fixed heart. 
 As to the people, if they have not a certain livelihood, they will 
 be found not to have a fixed heart. And if they have not a fixed 
 heart, there is nothing which they will not do in the way of self- 
 abandonment, of moral deflection, of depravity, and of wild 
 license. When they have thus been involved in crime, to fol- 
 low them up and punish them, is to entrap the people. How 
 can such a thing as entrapping the people be done under the 
 rule of a benevolent man ? " 
 
 " Therefore, an intelligent ruler will regulate the livelihood of 
 the people, so as to make sure that, above, they shall have 
 sufficient wherewith to serve their parents, and below, sufficient 
 wherewith to support their wives and children ; that in good 
 years they shall always be abundantly satisfied, and that in bad 
 years they shall not be in danger of perishing. After this he 
 may urge them, and they will proceed to what is good, for in 
 this case the people will follow after that with readiness. 
 
 " But now the livelihood of the people is so regulated, that, 
 above, they have not sufficient wherewith to serve their parents, 
 and, below, they have not sufficient wherewith to support their 
 wives and children ; even in good years their lives are always 
 embittered, and in bad years they are in danger of perishing. 
 In such circumstances their only object is to escape from
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 109 
 
 death, and they are afraid they will not succeed in doing so — 
 what leisure have they to cultivate propriety and righteousness ? 
 
 " If your Majesty wishes to carry out a benevolent govern- 
 ment, why not turn back to what is the essential step to its at- 
 tainment ? 
 
 " Let mulberry trees be planted about the homesteads with 
 their five acres, and persons of fifty years will be able to wear 
 silk. In keeping fowls, pigs, dogs, and swine, let not their 
 times of breeding be neglected, and persons of seventy years 
 will be able to eat flesh. Let there not be taken away the time 
 that is proper for the cultivation of the field-allotment of a hun- 
 dred acres, and the family of eight mouths will not suffer from 
 hunger. Let careful attention be paid to the teaching in the 
 various schools, with repeated inculcation of the filial and fra- 
 ternal duties, and gray-haired men will not be seen upon the 
 roads, carrying burdens on their backs or on their heads. It 
 has never been that the ruler of a State, where these results 
 were seen, the old wearing silk and eating flesh, and the black- 
 haired people suffering neither from hunger nor cold, did not 
 attain to the Royal dignity." 
 
 [Books II, III, and IV are omitted^
 
 BOOK V 
 
 WAN CHANG* 
 Part I 
 
 WAN CHANG asked Mencius, saying, "When Shun 
 went into the fields, he cried out and wept towards 
 the pitying heavens. Why did he cry out and 
 weep ? " Mencius rephed, " He was dissatisfied and full of 
 earnest desire." 
 
 Wan Chang said, " When his parents love him, a son re- 
 joices and forgets them not ; and when they hate him, though 
 they punish him, he does not allow himself to be dissatisfied. 
 Was Shun then dissatisfied with his parents ? " Mencius said, 
 " Ch'ang Seih asked Kung-ming Kaou, saying, ' As to Shun's 
 going into the fields, I have received your instructions ; but I 
 do not understand about his weeping and crying out to the 
 pitying heavens, and to his parents.' Kung-ming Kaou an- 
 swered him, ' You do not understand that matter.' Now 
 Kung-ming Kaou thought that the heart of a filial son like 
 Shun could not be so free from sorrow as Seih seemed to imag- 
 ine he might have been. Shun would be saying, ' I exert my 
 strength to cultivate the fields, but I am thereby only discharg- 
 ing my duty as a son. What is there wrong in me that my 
 parents do not love me ? ' 
 
 " The emperor caused his own children — nine sons and two 
 daughters — the various officers, oxen and sheep, storehouses 
 and granaries, all to be prepared for the service of Shun amid 
 the channeled fields. Most of the officers in the empire re- 
 paired to him. The emperor designed that he should superin- 
 tend the empire along with himself, and then to transfer it to 
 
 * The Book is named from Wan having retired into privacy, composed 
 
 Chang, who is almost the only interlocu- the Seven Books which constitute his 
 
 tor with Mencius in it. The tradition works. The part which follows is all 
 
 is that it was in company with Wan's occupied with discussions in vindication 
 
 disciples that Mencius, baffled in all of Shun and other ancient worthies. 
 his hopes of doing public service, and
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS m 
 
 him. But because his parents were not in accord with him, he 
 felt like a poor man who has nowhere to turn to. 
 
 " To be an object of complacency to the ofificers of the em- 
 pire is what men desire ; but it was not sufficient to remove the 
 sorrow of Shun. The possession of beauty is what men desire : 
 but though Shun had for his wives the two daughters of the 
 emperor, it was not sufficient to remove his sorrow. Riches 
 are what men desire, but though the empire was the rich prop- 
 erty of Shun, it was not enough to remove his sorrow. Honors 
 are what men desire, but though Shun had the dignity of being 
 the son of Heaven, it was not sufficient to remove his sorrow. 
 The reason why his being the object of men's complacency, the 
 possession of beauty, riches, and honors, could not remove his 
 sorrow was because it could be removed only by his being in en- 
 tire accord with his parents. 
 
 *' The desire of a child is towards his father and mother. 
 When he becomes conscious of the attractions of beauty, his de- 
 sire is towards young and beautiful women. When he comes 
 to have a wife and children, his desire is towards them. When 
 he obtains office, his desire is towards his ruler ; and if he can- 
 not get the regard of his ruler, he burns within. But the man 
 of great filial piety, all his life, has his desire towards his par- 
 ents. In the great Shun I see the case of one whose desire was 
 towards them when he was fifty years old." 
 
 Wan Chang asked Mencius, saying, " It is said in the ' Book 
 of Poetry,' 
 
 ' How do we proceed in taking a wife? 
 Announcement must first be made to our parents.* 
 
 If the rule be indeed as thus expressed, no one ought to have 
 illustrated it so well as Shun — how was it that Shun's marriage 
 took place without his informing his parents ? " Mencius re- 
 plied, " If he had informed them, he would not have been able 
 to marry. That male and female dwell together is the greatest 
 of human relations. If Shun had informed his parents, he must 
 have made void this greatest of human relations, and incurred 
 thereby their resentment. It was on this account that he did 
 not inform them." 
 
 Wan Chang said, " As to Shun's marrying without making 
 announcement to his parents, I have heard your instructions. 
 But how was it that the emperor gave him his daughters as
 
 112 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 wives without informing his parents?" Mencius said, "The 
 emperor also knew that, if he informed his parents, he could not 
 have given him his daughters as wives." 
 
 Wan Chang said, " His parents set Shun to repair a granary, 
 and then removed the ladder by which he had ascended ; after 
 which Koo-sow set fire to it. They sent him to dig a well, from 
 which he managed to get out ; but they, not knowing this, pro- 
 ceeded to cover it up. His brother, Seang, said, ' Of this 
 scheme to cover up the city-farming gentleman the merit is all 
 mine. Let my parents have his oxen and sheep ; let them 
 have his granaries and storehouses. His shield and spear shall 
 be mine ; his lute shall be mine; his carved bow shall be mine ; 
 and I will make his two wives attend for me to my bed.' Seang 
 then went away and entered Shun's house, and there was Shun 
 upon a couch with his lute. Seang said, ' I am come simply 
 because I was thinking anxiously about you,' and at the same 
 time he looked ashamed. Shun said to him, ' There are all my 
 offtcers ; do you take the management of them for me.' I do 
 not know whether Shun was ignorant of Seang's wishing to kill 
 him." Mencius replied, "How could he be ignorant of it? 
 But when Seang was sorrowful, he was also sorrowful, and 
 when Seang was joyful, he was also joyful." 
 
 Wan Chang continued, " Then was Shun one who rejoiced 
 hypocritically?" " No," was the reply. " Formerly some one 
 sent a present of a live fish to Tsze-ch'an of Ch'ing. Tsze-ch'an 
 ordered his pond-keeper to feed it in the pond ; but the man 
 cooked it and reported the execution of his commission, saying, 
 ' When I first let it go, it looked embarrassed. In a little 
 while it seemed to be somewhat at ease, and then it swam away 
 as if delighted.' * It had got into its element ! ' said Tsze-ch'an. 
 The pond-keeper went out and said, ' Who calls Tsze-ch'an 
 wise? When I had cooked and eaten the fish, he said, " It has 
 got into its element ! It has got into its element ! " ' Thus a 
 superior man may be imposed on by what seems to be as it 
 ought to be, but it is diflficult to entrap him by what is contrary 
 to right principle. Seang came in the way in which the love 
 of his elder brother would have made him come, and therefore 
 Shun truly believed him, and rejoiced at it. What hypocrisy 
 was there ? " 
 
 Wan Chang said, " Seang made it his daily business to kill 
 Shun ; why was it that, when the latter was raised to be the son
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 1x3 
 
 of Heaven, he only banished him?" Mencius replied, "He 
 invested him with a State, and some have said that it was ban- 
 ishing him." When Chang said, " Shun banished the Superin- 
 tendent of Works to Yew-chow, sent away Hwan-tow to 
 Mount Ts'ung, slew the Prince of San Meaou in San-wei, and 
 imprisoned K'wan on Mount Yu. When those four criminals 
 were thus dealt with, all under heaven submitted to him ; it 
 was a cutting off of men who were destitute of benevolence. 
 But Seang was of all men the most destitute of benevolence, 
 and Shun invested him with the State of Pe; of what crime 
 had the people of Pe been guilty? Does a benevolent man 
 really act thus? In the case of other men, he cut them off; 
 in the case of his brother, he invested him with a State." Men- 
 cius replied, " A benevolent man does not lay up anger, nor 
 cherish resentment against his brother, but only regards him 
 with affection and love. Regarding him with affection, he 
 wishes him to enjoy honor; loving him, he wishes him to be 
 rich. The investing him with Pe was to enrich and ennoble 
 him. If while Shun himself was emperor, his brother had 
 been a common man, could he have been said to regard him 
 with affection and love ? " 
 
 Wan Chang said, " I venture to ask what is meant by some 
 saying that it was a banishing of Seang." Mencius replied, 
 " Seang could do nothing of himself in his State. The em- 
 peror appointed an ofificer to manage its government, and to 
 pay over its revenues to him ; and therefore it was said that it 
 was a banishing of him ? How indeed could he be allowed the 
 means of oppressing the people there? Nevertheless, Shun 
 wished to be continually seeing him, and therefore he came 
 unceasingly to court, as is signified in that expression, ' He did 
 not wait for the rendering of tribute, or affairs of government, 
 to receive the prince of Pe.' " 
 
 Heen-k'ew Mung asked Mencius, saying, " There is the 
 old saying, ' An officer of complete virtue cannot be employed 
 as a minister by his ruler, nor treated as a son by his father.* 
 Shun stood with his face to the south, and Yaou, at the head of 
 all the feudal princes, appeared in his court with his face to the 
 north. Koo-sow also appeared at Shun's court with his face 
 to the north ; and when Shun saw him, his countenance as- 
 sumed a look of distress. Confucius said, ' At this time the 
 empire was in a perilous condition indeed ! How unsettled was 
 Vol. IV.— 8
 
 114 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 its state ! ' I do not know whether what is thus said really took 
 place." Mcnciiis said, " No. These are not the words of a 
 superior man, but the sayings of an uncultivated person of the 
 east of Ts'e. When Yaou was old, Shun took the management 
 of afifairs for him. It is said in the Canon of Yaou, ' After twen- 
 ty-eight years, Fang-heun demised, and the people mourned 
 for him as for a parent three years. All within the four seas, the 
 eight instruments of music were stopped and hushed." Confu- 
 cius said, ' There are not two suns in the sky, nor two sov- 
 ereigns over the people. If Shun had already been in the posi- 
 tion of the son of Heaven, and had moreover led on all the 
 feudal princes of the empire to observe the three years' mourn- 
 ing for Yaou, there must in that case have been two sons of 
 Heaven.' " 
 
 Heen-k'ew Mung said, " On the point of Shun's not em- 
 ploying Yaou as a minister, I have received your instructions. 
 But is is said in the ' Book of Poetry,' 
 
 ' Under the wide heaven. 
 All is the king's land; 
 Within the sea-boundaries of the land, 
 All are the king's servants.' 
 
 When Shun became emperor, I venture to ask how it was 
 that Koo-sow was not one of his servants." Mencius replied, 
 *' That Ode is not to be understood in that way ; it speaks of 
 being laboriously engaged in the king's business, and not being 
 able to nourish one's parents, as if the subject of it said, * This is 
 all the king's business, but I alone am supposed to have ability, 
 and made to toil in it.' Therefore those who explain the Odes 
 must not insist on one term so as to do violence to a sentence, 
 nor on a sentence so as to do violence to the general scope. 
 They must try with their thoughts to meet that scope, and 
 then they will apprehend it. If we simply take single sen- 
 tences, there is that in the Ode called the ' Yun Han,' 
 
 ' Of the remnant of Chow, among the black-haired people, 
 There will not be half a man left.' 
 
 If it had really been as thus expressed, then not an individual of 
 the people of Chow would have been left. 
 
 " Of all that a filial son can attain to, there is nothing greater 
 than his honoring his parents. Of what can be attained to in
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 115 
 
 honoring one's parents, there is nothing greater than the nour- 
 ishing them with the empire. To be the father of the son of 
 Heaven is the height of honor. To be nourished with the em- 
 pire is the height of nourishment. In this was verified the 
 sentiment in the ' Book of Poetry,' 
 
 ' Ever thinking how to be filial, 
 His filial mind was the model which he supplied.' 
 
 " In the ' Book of History ' it is said, ' With respectful service 
 he appeared before Koo-sow, looking grave and awe-struck, 
 till Koo-sow also was transformed by his example.' This is 
 the true case of the scholar of complete virtue not being treated 
 as a son by his father." 
 
 Wan Chang said, " It is said that Yaou gave the empire to 
 Shun ; was it so ? " Mencius replied, " No ; the emperor can- 
 not give the empire to another." " Yes ; but Shun possessed 
 the empire. Who gave it to him ? " " Heaven gave it to 
 him," was the reply. 
 
 " ' Heaven gave it to him ' ; did Heaven confer the appoint- 
 ment on him with specific injunctions ? '' Mencius said, " No ; 
 Heaven does not speak. It simply showed its will by his 
 personal conduct, and by his conduct of affairs." 
 
 " ' It showed its will by his personal conduct, and by his 
 conduct of affairs,' " returned the other ; " how was this ? " 
 Mencius said, " The emperor can present a man to Heaven, 
 but he cannot make Heaven give that man the empire. A 
 feudal prince can present a man to the emperor to take his 
 place, but he cannot make the emperor give the princedom to 
 that man. A great ofificer can present a man to his prince, but 
 he cannot cause the prince to make that man a great officer in 
 his own room. Anciently Yaou presented Shun to Heaven, 
 and Heaven accepted him ; he displayed him to the people, and 
 the people accepted him. Therefore I say, ' Heaven does not 
 speak. It simply indicated its will by his personal conduct, 
 and by his conduct of afifairs.' " 
 
 Chang said, " I presume tO' ask how it was that Yaou pre- 
 sented Shun to Heaven, and Heaven accepted him, and dis- 
 played him to the people, and the people accepted him." The 
 reply was, " He caused him to preside over the sacrifices, and all 
 the Spirits were well pleased with them ; thus it was that 
 Heaven accepted him. He caused him to preside over the
 
 i.i6 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 conduct of affairs, and affairs were well administered, so that 
 all the people reposed under him ; thus it was that the people 
 accepted him. Heaven gave the empire to him, and the peo- 
 ple gave it to him. Therefore I said, ' The emperor cannot 
 give the empire to another.' 
 
 " Shun assisted Yaou in the government for twenty and 
 eight years ; this was more than man could have done, and 
 was from Heaven. When the three years' mourning conse- 
 quent on the death of Yaou were accomplished, Shun withdrew 
 from the son of Yaou to the south of the southern Ho. The 
 princes of the empire, however, repairing to court, went not to 
 the son of Yaou, but to Shun. Litigants went not to the son 
 of Yaou, but to Shun. Singers sang not the son of Yaou, but 
 Shun. Therefore I said that it was Heaven that gave him the 
 empire. It was after this that he went to the Middle State, and 
 occupied the seat of the son of Heaven. If he had before these 
 things taken up his residence in the palace of Yaou, and ap- 
 plied pressure to his son, it would have been an act of usurpa- 
 tion, and not the gift of Heaven. 
 
 " This view of Shun's obtaining the empire is in accordance 
 with what is said in The Great Declaration — ' Heaven sees as 
 my people see. Heaven hears as my people hear.' " 
 
 Wan Chang said, " People say, ' When the disposal of the 
 empire came to Yu, his virtue was inferior to that of Yaou and 
 Shun, and he did not transmit it to the worthiest, but to his 
 son.' Was it so?" Mencius repHed, "No; it was not so. 
 When Heaven gave the empire to the worthiest, it was given 
 to the worthiest ; when Heaven gave it to the son of the pre- 
 ceding emperor, it was given to that son. Formerly Shun 
 presented Yu to Heaven for a period of seventeen years ; and 
 when the three years' mourning, consequent on the death of 
 Shun, were accomplished, Yu withdrew from the son of Yu to 
 Yang-shing. The people of the empire followed him as, after 
 the death of Yaou, they had not followed his son, but followed 
 Shun. Yu presented Yih to Heaven for a period of seven 
 years ; and when the three years' mourning consequent on the 
 death of Yu were accomplished, Yih withdrew from the son of 
 Yu to the north of Mount Ke. The princes repairing to court, 
 and litigants, went not to Yih, but to K'e, saying, ' He is the 
 son of our ruler.' Singers did not sing Yih, but they sang K'e, 
 saying, ' He is the son of our ruler.'
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 117 
 
 " That Tan-choo was not equal to his father, and Shun's son 
 also not equal to his ; that Shun assisted Yaou, and Yu assisted 
 Shun, for a period of many years, conferring benefits on the 
 people for a long time; that K'e was virtuous and able, and 
 could reverently enter into and continue the ways of Yu ; that 
 Yih assisted Yu for a period of a few years, conferring benefits 
 on the people not for a long time ; that the length of time that 
 Shun, Yu, and Yih, assisted in the government was so different ; 
 and that the sons of the emperors were one a man of talents and 
 virtue, and the other two inferior to their fathers: — all these 
 things were from Heaven, and what could not be produced by 
 man. That which is done without any one's seeming to do it 
 is from Heaven. That which comes to pass without any one's 
 seeming to bring it about is from Heaven. 
 
 " In the case of a private man's obtaining the empire, there 
 must be in him virtue equal to that of Shun and Yu, and more- 
 over there must be the presenting him to Heaven by the pre- 
 ceding emperor. It was on this latter account that Chung-ne 
 did not obtain the kingdom. 
 
 " When the throne descends by natural succession, he who 
 is displaced by Heaven must be like Keeh or Chow. It was on 
 this account that Yih, E Yin, and the duke of Chow did not 
 obtain the kingdom. 
 
 " E Yin assisted T'ang so that he became sovereign of the 
 kingdom. After the demise of T'ang, T'ae-ting having died 
 without being appointed in his place, Wae-ping reigned two 
 years, and Chung-jin four. T'ae-Keah then was turning up- 
 side down the canons and examples of T'ang, and E Yin placed 
 him in T'ung for three years. There he repented of his errors, 
 was contrite, and reformed himself. In T'ung he came to dwell 
 in benevolence and moved towards righteousness, during those 
 three years listening to the lessons given to him by E Yin, after 
 which that minister again returned with him to Poh. 
 
 " The duke of Chow's not getting the kingdom was like that 
 of Yih's not getting the throne of Hea, or E Yin's that of Yin. 
 
 " Confucius said, ' T'ang and Yu resigned the throne to the 
 worthiest ; the founders of the Hea, Yin, and Chow dynasties 
 transmitted it to their sons. The principle of righteousness 
 was the same in all the cases.' " 
 
 Wan Chang asked Menicus, saying, " People say that E Yin 
 sought an introduction to Tang by his knowledge of cookery;
 
 ii8 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 was it so ? " Mencius replied, " No, it was not so. E Yin was 
 farming in the lands of the State of Sin, deUghting in the prin- 
 ciples of Yaou and Shun. In any matter contrary to the right- 
 eousness which they prescribed, or to the course which they en- 
 joined, though he had been salaried with the empire, he would 
 not have regarded it ; though there had been yoked for him a 
 thousand teams, he would not have looked at them. In any 
 matter contrary to the righteousness which they prescribed, or 
 to the course which they enjoined, he would not have given nor 
 taken even a single straw. 
 
 '* T'ang sent persons with presents of silk to ask him to enter 
 his service. With an air of indifference and self-satisfaction, he 
 said, ' What can I do with these silks with which T'ang invites 
 me ? Is it not best for me to abide in these channeled fields, 
 and therein delight myself with the principles of Yaou and 
 Shun ? ' 
 
 " T'ang thrice sent persons thus to invite him. After this, 
 with the change of purpose displayed in his countenance, he 
 spoke in a different style, saying, ' Instead of abiding in the 
 channeled fields, and therein delighting myself with the princi- 
 ples of Yaou and Shun, had I not better make this ruler one 
 after the style of Yaou and Shun ? had I not better make this 
 people like the people of Yaou and Shun ? had I not better in 
 my own person see these things for myself? Heaven's plan in 
 the production of this people is this : — That they who are first 
 informed, should instruct those who are later in being informed, 
 and those who first apprehend principles should instruct those 
 who are slower to do so. I am the one of Heaven's people who 
 have first apprehended ; I will take these principles and instruct 
 this people in them. If I do not instruct them, who will do so ? ' 
 
 " He thought that among all the people of the kingdom, even 
 the private men and women, if there were any that did not enjoy 
 such benefits as Yaou and Shun conferred, it was as if he him- 
 self pushed them into a ditch. He took upon himself the heavy 
 charge of all under Heaven in this way, and therefore he went 
 to T'ang, and pressed upon him the duty of attacking Hea, and 
 saving the people. 
 
 " I have not heard of one who bent himself and at the same 
 time made others straight ; how much less could one disgrace 
 himself, and thereby rectify the whole kingdom ? The actions 
 of the sages have been different. Some have kept far away
 
 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 119 
 
 from office, and others have drawn near to it ; some have left 
 their offices, and others have not done so ; that in which these 
 diflferent courses all meet, is simply the keeping of their persons 
 pure. 
 
 " I have heard that E Yin sought an introduction to T'ang by 
 the principles of Yaou and Shun ; I have not heard he did so 
 by his knowledge of cookery. 
 
 " In the ' Instructions of E,' it is said, ' Heaven, destroying 
 Keeh, commenced attacking him in the palace of Muh ; we 
 commenced in Poh.' " 
 
 Wan Chang asked Mencius, saying, " Some say that Con- 
 fucius in Wei lived with an ulcer-doctor, and in Ts'e with Tseih 
 Hwan, the chief of the eunuchs ; was it so ? " Mencius said, 
 " No, it was not so. Those are the inventions of men fond of 
 strange things. 
 
 " In Wei he lived in the house of Yen Ch'ow-yew. The 
 wife of the officer Mei and the wife of Tsze-lu were sisters. 
 Mei-tsze spoke to Tsze-lu, saying, ' If Confucius will lodge 
 with me, he may get to be a high noble of Wei.' Tsze-lu re- 
 ported this to Confucius, who said, ' That is as ordered by 
 Heaven.' Confucius advanced according to propriety, and 
 retired according to righteousness. In regard to his obtaining 
 office and honor or not obtaining them, he said, ' That is as or- 
 dered.' But if he had lodged with an ulcer-doctor and with 
 Tseih Hwan, the chief of the eunuchs, that would neither have 
 been according to righteousness nor any ordering of Heaven, 
 
 " When Confucius, being dissatisfied in Lu and Wei, had 
 left those States, he met with the attempt of Hwan, the master 
 of the Horse, in Sung, to intercept and kill him, so that he had 
 to pass through Sung in the dress of a private man. At that 
 time, though he was in circumstances of distress, he lodged in 
 the house of Ching-tsze, the minister of works, who was then 
 a minister of Chow, the marquis of Ch'in. 
 
 " I have heard that ministers in the service of a court may be 
 known from those to whom they are hosts, and that ministers 
 coming from a distance may be known from those with whom 
 they lodge. If Confucius had lodged with an ulcer-doctor and 
 with Tseih Hwan, the chief of the eunuchs, how could he have 
 been Confucius ? " 
 
 Wan Giang asked Mencius, saying, " Some say that Pih-le 
 He sold himself to a cattle-keeper of Ts'in for five sheepskins,
 
 I20 THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS 
 
 and fed his cattle for him, to seek an introduction to Duke Muh 
 of Ts'in ; is this true ? '' Mencius said, " No, it was not so. 
 This is the invention of some one fond of strange things. 
 
 " Pih-le He was a man of Yu. The people of Ts'in by the 
 inducement of a pcih of Ch'uy-Keih and a team of Keuh-ch'an 
 horses were asking liberty to march through Yu to attack 
 Kwoh. Kung Che-k'e remonstrated with the duke of Yu, 
 asking him not to grant their request, but Pih-le He did not 
 remonstrate. 
 
 " When he knew that the duke of Yu was not to be remon- 
 strated with, and went in consequence from that State to Ts'in, 
 he had reached the age of seventy. If by that time he did not 
 know that it would be a disgraceful thing to seek for an intro- 
 duction to Duke Muh of Ts'in by feeding cattle, could he be 
 called wise ? But not remonstrating where it was of no use to 
 remonstrate, could he be said not to be wise ? Knowing that 
 the duke of Yu would be ruined, and leaving his State before 
 that event, he could not be said to be not wise. As soon as he 
 was advanced in Ts'in, he knew that Duke Muh was one with 
 whom he could have a field for action, and became chief minis- 
 ter to him ; could he be said to be not wise? Acting as chief 
 minister in Ts'in, he made his ruler distinguished throughout 
 the kingdom, and worthy to be handed down to future ages ; 
 if he had not been a man of talents and virtue, could he have 
 done this? As to selling himself in order to bring about the 
 destruction of his ruler, even a villager who had a regard for 
 himself, would not do such a thing ; and shall we say that a man 
 of talents and virtue did it? "
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 [Metrical translation by James Legge]
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE wisdom of Confucius as a social reformer, as a 
 teacher and guide of the Chinese people, is shown in 
 many ways. He not only gave them a code of per- 
 sonal deportment, providing them with rules for the etiquette 
 and ceremony of life, but he instilled into them that profound 
 spirit of domestic piety which is one of the strongest features 
 in the Chinese character. He took measures to secure also the 
 intellectual cultivation of. his followers, and his Five Canons 
 contain all the most ancient works of Chinese literature, in the 
 departments of poetry, history, philosophy, and legislation. 
 The Shi-King is a collection of Chinese poetry made by Con- 
 fucius himself. This great anthology consists of more than 
 three hundred pieces, covering the whole range of Chinese 
 lyric poetry, the oldest of which dates some eighteen centuries 
 before Christ, while the latest of the selections must have been 
 written at the beginning of the sixth century before Christ. 
 These poems are of the highest interest, and even nowadays 
 may be read with delight by Europeans. The ballad and the 
 hymn are among the earliest forms of national poetry, and the 
 contents of the Shi-King naturally show specimens of lyric 
 poetry of this sort. We find there not only hymns, but also 
 ballads of a really fine and spirited character. Sometimes the 
 poems celebrate the common pursuits, occupations, and inci- 
 dents of life. They rise to the exaltation of the epithalamium, 
 or of the vintage song ; at other times they deal with sentiment 
 and human conduct, being in the highest degree sententious 
 and epigrammatic. We must give the credit to Confucius of 
 having saved for us the literature of China, and of having set 
 his people an example in preserving the monuments of a remote 
 antiquity. While the literatures of ancient Greece and Rome 
 have largely perished in the convulsions that followed the 
 breaking up of the Roman empire in Europe, when the king- 
 
 123
 
 124 
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 dom of China fell into disorder and decrepitude this one great 
 teacher stepped forward to save the precious record of historic 
 fact, philosophical thought, and of legislation as well as poetry, 
 from being swept away by the deluge of revolution. Confucius 
 showed his wisdom by the high value he set upon the poetry 
 of his native land, and his name must be set side by side with 
 that of the astute tyrant of Athens who collected the poems of 
 Homer and preserved them as a precious heritage to the 
 Greek world. Confucius has given us his opinion with regard 
 to the poems of the Shi-King. No man, he says, is worth 
 speaking to who has not mastered the poems of an anthology, 
 the perusal of which elevates the mind and purifies it from all 
 corrupt thoughts. Thanks to the work of modern scholar- 
 ship, English readers can now verify this dictum for them- 
 selves. 
 
 E. W.
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 PART L— LESSONS FROM THE STATES 
 
 BOOK I 
 THE ODES OF CHOW AND THE SOUTH 
 
 Celebrating the Virtue of King Wan's Bride 
 
 Hark ! from the islet in the stream the voice 
 Of the fish-hawks that o'er their nests rejoice! 
 From them our thoughts to that young lady go. 
 Modest and virtuous, loth herself to show. 
 Where could be found to share our prince's state. 
 So fair, so virtuous, and so fit a mate ? 
 
 See how the duckweed's stalks, or short or long, 
 
 Sway left and right, as moves the current strong ! 
 
 So hard it was for him the maid to find ! 
 
 By day, by night, our prince with constant mind 
 
 Sought for her long, but all his search was vain. 
 
 Awake, asleep, he ever felt the pain 
 
 Of longing thought, as when on restless bed, 
 
 Tossing about, one turns his fevered head. 
 
 Here long, there short, afloat the duckweed lies ; 
 But caught at last, we seize the longed-for prize. 
 The maiden modest, virtuous, coy, is found ; 
 Strike every lute, and joyous welcome sound. 
 Ours now, the duckweed from the stream we bear, ' 
 And cook to use with other viands rare. 
 He has the maiden, modest, virtuous, bright ; 
 Let bells and drums proclaim our great delight. - 
 
 125
 
 126 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Celebrating the Industry of King Wan>s Queen 
 
 Sweet was the scene. The spreading doHchos 
 
 Extended far, down to the valley's depths, 
 
 With leaves luxuriant. The orioles 
 
 Fluttered around, and on the bushy trees 
 
 In throngs collected — whence their pleasant notes 
 
 Resounded far in richest melody. 
 
 The spreading dolichos extended far, 
 Covering the valley's sides, down to its depths. 
 With leaves luxuriant and dense. I cut 
 It down, then boiled, and from the fibres spun 
 Of cloth, both fine and coarse, large store, 
 To wear, unwearied of such simple dress. 
 
 Now back to my old home, my parents dear 
 
 To see, I go. The matron I have told, 
 
 Who will announcement make. Meanwhile my clothes, 
 
 My private clothes I wash, and rinse my robes. 
 
 Which of them need be rinsed? and which need not? 
 
 My parents dear to visit, back I go. 
 
 In Praise of a Bride 
 
 Graceful and young the peach-tree stands ; 
 
 How rich its flowers, all gleaming bright! 
 This bride to her new home repairs ; 
 
 Chamber and house she'll order right. 
 
 Graceful and young the peach-tree stands ; 
 
 Large crops of fruit it soon will show. 
 This bride to her new home repairs ; 
 
 Chamber and house her sway shall know. 
 
 Graceful and young the peach-tree stands, 
 Its foliage clustering green and full. 
 
 This bride to her new home repairs ; 
 Her household will attest her rule.
 
 THE SHI-KING 127 
 
 Celebrating T'ae-Sze's Freedom from Jealousy 
 
 In the South are the trees whose branches are bent, 
 And droop in such fashion that o'er their extent 
 
 All the dolichos' creepers fast cling. 
 See our princely lady, from whom we have got 
 Rejoicing that's endless ! May her happy lot 
 
 And her honors repose ever bring! 
 
 In the South are the trees whose branches are bent, 
 And droop in such fashion that o'er their extent 
 
 All the dolichos' creepers are spread. 
 See our princely lady, from whom we have got 
 Rejoicing that's endless ! Of her happy lot 
 
 And her honors the greatness ne'er fade ! 
 
 In the South are the trees whose branches are bent. 
 And droop in such fashion that o'er their extent 
 
 All the dolichos' creepers entwine. 
 See our princely lady, from whom we have got 
 Rejoicing that's endless ! May her happy lot 
 
 And her honors complete ever shine ! 
 
 The Fruitfulness of the Locust 
 
 Ye locusts, winged tribes. 
 
 Gather in concord fine ; 
 Well your descendants may 
 
 In numerous bright hosts shine ! 
 
 Ye locusts, winged tribes, 
 
 Your wings in flight resound ; 
 
 Well your descendants may 
 In endless lines be found! 
 
 Ye locusts, winged tribes, 
 Together cluster strong; 
 
 Well your descendants may 
 In swarms forever throng!
 
 laS THE SHI-KING 
 
 Lamenting the Absence of a Cherished Friend 
 
 Though small my basket, all my toil 
 Filled it with mouse-ears but in part, 
 
 I set it on the path, and sighed 
 For the dear master of my heart. 
 
 My steeds, o'er-tasked, their progress stayed, 
 When midway up that rocky height. 
 
 Give me a cup from that gilt vase — 
 When shall this longing end in sight? 
 
 To mount that lofty ridge I drove. 
 Until my steeds all changed their hue. 
 
 !A. cup from that rhinoceros's horn 
 May help my longing to subdue. 
 
 Striving to reach that flat-topped hill, 
 My steeds, worn out, relaxed their strain ; 
 
 My driver also sank oppressed : — 
 I'll never see my lord again ! 
 
 Celebrating the Goodness of the Descendants of King Wan 
 
 !\s the feet of the Hn, which avoid each living thing, 
 So our prince's noble sons no harm to men will bring. 
 They are the lin! 
 
 As the front of the lin, never forward thrust in wrath, 
 
 So our prince's noble grandsons of love tread the path. 
 
 They are the lin! 
 
 As the horn of the lin, flesh-tipped, no wound to give, 
 So our prince's noble kindred kindly with all live. 
 They are the lin! 
 
 [Note. — ^The " lin " is the female of " K'e " — a fabulous animal — 
 the symbol of all goodness and benevolence; having the body of a 
 deer, the tail of an ox, the hoofs of a horse, one horn, the scales of a 
 fish, etc. Its feet do not tread on any living thing — not even on live 
 grass; it does not butt with its forehead; and the end of its horn is 
 covered with flesh — to show that, while able for war, it wills to have 
 peace. The " lin " was supposed to appear inaugurating a golden age, 
 but the poet finds a better auspice of that in the character of Wan's 
 family and kindred.]
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 The Virtuous Manners of the Young Women 
 
 High and compressed, the Southern trees 
 
 No sheher from the sun afford. 
 The girls free ramble by the Han, 
 
 But will not hear enticing word. 
 Like the broad Han are they. 
 
 Through which one cannot dive; 
 And like the Keang's long stream. 
 
 Wherewith no raft can strive. 
 
 Many the fagots bound and piled ; 
 
 The thorns I'd hew still more to make. 
 As brides, those girls their new homes seek ; 
 
 Their colts to feed I'd undertake. 
 Like the broad Han are they. 
 
 Through which one cannot dive; 
 And like the Keang's long stream, 
 
 Wherewith no raft can strive. 
 
 Many the fagots bound and piled ; 
 
 The Southern- wood I'd cut for more. 
 As brides, those girls their new homes seek ; 
 
 Food for their colts I'd bring large store. 
 Like the broad Han are they. 
 
 Through which one cannot dive; 
 And like the Keang's long stream. 
 
 Wherewith no raft can strive 
 
 Praise of a Rabbit-Catcher 
 
 Careful he sets his rabbit-nets all round ; 
 Chang-chang his blows upon the pegs resound. 
 Stalwart the man and bold ! his bearing all 
 Shows he might be his prince's shield and wall. 
 
 Careful he is his rabbit-nets to place 
 Where many paths of rabbits' feet bear trace. 
 Stalwart the man and bold ! 'tis plain to see 
 He to his prince companion good would be. 
 Vol. IV.— 9 
 
 129
 
 130 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Careful he is his rabbit-nets to spread, 
 Where in the forest's depth the trees give shade. 
 Stalwart the man and bold ! fit his the part 
 Guide to his prince to be, and faithful heart. 
 
 The Song of the Plantain-Gatherers 
 
 We gather and gather the plantains ; 
 
 Come gather them anyhow. 
 Yes, gather and gather the plantains, 
 
 And here we have got them now. 
 
 We gather and gather the plantains ; 
 
 Now off the ears we must tear. 
 Yes, gather and gather the plantains, 
 
 And now the seeds are laid bare. 
 
 We gather and gather the plantains, 
 The seeds in our skirts are placed. 
 
 Yes, gather and gather the plantains. 
 Ho ! safe in the girdled waist ! 
 
 The Affection of the Wives on the Joe 
 
 Along the raised banks of the Joo, 
 
 To hew slim stem and branch I wrought, 
 
 My lord away, my husband true, 
 
 Like hunger-pang my troubled thought ! 
 
 Along the raised banks of the Joo, 
 
 Branch and fresh shoot confessed my art. 
 
 I've seen my lord, my husband true. 
 And still he folds me in his heart. 
 
 As the toiled bream makes red its tail, 
 Toil you, Sir, for the Royal House ; 
 
 Amidst its blazing fires, nor quail : — 
 Your parents see you pay your vows.
 
 BOOK II 
 
 THE ODES OF SHAOU AND THE SOUTH 
 
 The Marriage of a Princess 
 
 In the magpie's nest 
 
 Dwells the dove at rest. 
 This young bride goes to her future home ; 
 To meet her a hundred chariots come. 
 
 Of the magpie's nest 
 
 Is the dove possessed. 
 This bride goes to her new home to live ; 
 And escort a hundred chariots give. 
 
 The nest magpie wove 
 
 Now filled by the dove. 
 This bride now takes to her home her way ; 
 And these numerous cars her state display. 
 
 The Industry and Reverence of a Prince's Wife 
 
 Around the pools, the islets o'er, 
 
 Fast she plucks white Southern-wood, 
 
 To help the sacrificial store ; 
 
 And for our prince does service good. 
 
 Where streams among the valleys shine, 
 Of Southern-woods she plucks the white ; 
 
 And brings it to the sacred shrine, 
 To aid our prince in solemn rite. 
 
 In head-dress high, most reverent, she 
 
 The temple seeks at early dawn. 
 The service o'er, the head-dress see 
 
 To her own chamber slow withdrawn. 
 131
 
 :32 THE SHI-KING 
 
 The Wife of Some Great Officer Bewails His Absence 
 
 Shrill chirp the insects in the grass ; 
 
 All about the hoppers spring. 
 While I my husband do not see, 
 Sorrow must my bosom wring. 
 O to meet him ! 
 O to greet him ! 
 Then my heart would rest and sing. 
 
 Ascending high that Southern hill, 
 
 Turtle ferns I strove to get. 
 While I my husband do not see. 
 Sorrow must my heart beset. 
 O to meet him ! 
 O to greet him ! 
 Then my heart would cease to fret. 
 
 Ascending high that Southern hill, 
 
 Spinous ferns I sought to find. 
 While I my husband do not see, 
 Rankles sorrow in my mind. 
 O to meet him ! 
 O to greet him ! 
 In my heart would peace be shrined. 
 
 The Diligence of the Young Wife of an Officer 
 
 She gathers fast the large duckweed, 
 
 From valley stream that southward flows; 
 
 And for the pondweed to the pools 
 Left on the plains by floods she goes. 
 
 The plants, when closed her toil, she puts 
 In baskets round and baskets square. 
 
 Then home she hies to cook her spoil, 
 In pans and tripods ready there. 
 
 In sacred chamber this she sets, 
 
 Where the light falls down through the wall. 
 'Tis she, our lord's young reverent wife, 
 
 Who manages this service all.
 
 THE SHI-KING 133 
 
 The Love of the People for the Duke of Shaou 
 
 O fell not that sweet pear-tree ! 
 See how its branches spread. 
 Spoil not its shade, 
 For Shaou's chief laid 
 Beneath it his weary head. 
 
 O clip not that sweet pear-tree ! 
 
 Each twig and leaflet spare. 
 'Tis sacred now, 
 Since the lord of Shaou, 
 
 When weary, rested him there. 
 
 O touch not that sweet pear-tree ! 
 Bend not a twig of it now. 
 
 There long ago. 
 
 As the stories show. 
 Oft halted the chief of Shaou. 
 
 The Easy Dignity of the Officers at Some Court 
 
 Arrayed in skins of lamb or sheep, 
 With five silk braidings all of white. 
 
 From court they go, to take their meal, 
 All self-possessed, with spirits light. 
 
 How on their skins of lamb or sheep 
 
 The five seams wrought with white silk show ! 
 
 With easy steps, and self-possessed. 
 From court to take their meal, they go. 
 
 Upon their skins of lamb or sheep 
 
 Shines the white silk the seams to link. 
 
 With easy steps and self-possessed. 
 They go from court to eat and drink.
 
 J34 
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Anxiety of a Young Lady to Get Married 
 
 Ripe, the plums fall from the bough; 
 Only seven-tenths left there now ! 
 Ye whose hearts on me are set, 
 Now the time is fortunate ! 
 
 Ripe, the plums fall from the bough ; 
 Only three-tenths left there now ! 
 Ye who wish my love to gain, 
 Will not now apply in vain ! 
 
 No more plums upon the bough! 
 All are in my basket now! 
 Ye who me with ardor seek, 
 Need the word but freely speak !
 
 BOOK III 
 
 THE ODES OF FEI 
 
 An Officer Bewails the Neglect with which He is Treated 
 
 It floats about, that boat of cypress wood, 
 Now here, now there, as by the current borne. 
 
 Nor rest nor sleep comes in my troubled mood ; 
 I suffer as when painful wound has torn 
 The shrinking body. Thus I dwell forlorn, 
 
 And aimless muse, my thoughts of sorrow full. 
 I might with wine refresh my spirit worn ; 
 
 I might go forth, and, sauntering try to cool 
 
 The fever of my heart ; but grief holds sullen rule. 
 
 My mind resembles not a mirror plate. 
 
 Reflecting all the impressions it receives. 
 The good I love, the bad regard with hate; 
 
 I only cherish whom my heart believes. 
 
 Colleagues I have, but yet my spirit grieves, 
 That on their honor I cannot depend. 
 
 I speak, but my complaint no influence leaves 
 Upon their hearts ; with mine no feelings blend ; 
 With me in anger they, and fierce disdain contend. 
 
 My mind is fixed, and cannot, like a stone, 
 
 Be turned at will indifferently about ; 
 And what I think, to that, and that alone, 
 
 I utterance give, alike within, without ; 
 
 Nor can like mat be rolled and carried out. 
 With dignity in presence of them all, 
 
 My conduct marked, my goodness who shall scout? 
 My foes I boldly challenge, great and small, 
 If there be aught in me they can in question call. 
 
 X35
 
 136 THE SHI-KING 
 
 How full of trouble is my anxious heart! 
 
 With hate the blatant herd of creatures mean 
 Ceaseless pursue. Of their attacks the smart 
 
 Keeps my mind in distress. Their venomed spleen 
 
 Aye vents itself; and with insulting mien 
 They vex my soul ; and no one on my side 
 
 A word will speak. Silent, alone, unseen, 
 I think of my sad case ; then opening wide 
 My eyes, as if from sleep, I beat my breast, sore-tried. 
 
 Thy disc, O sun, should ever be complete. 
 
 While thine, O changing moon, doth wax and wane. 
 
 But now our sun hath waned, weak and efTete, 
 And moons are ever full. My heart with pain 
 Is firmly bound, and held in sorrow's chain. 
 
 As to the body cleaves an unwashed dress. 
 Silent I think of my sad case; in vain 
 
 I try to find relief from my distress. 
 
 Would I had wings to fly where ills no longer press! 
 
 A Wife Deplores the Absence of Her Husband 
 
 Away the startled pheasant files, 
 With lazy movement of his wings. 
 
 Borne was my heart's lord from my eyes ; — 
 What pain the separation brings ! 
 
 The pheasant, though no more in view, 
 His cry, below, above, forth sends. 
 
 Alas ! my princely lord, 'tis you — 
 Your absence, that my bosom rends. 
 
 At sun and moon I sit and gaze. 
 
 In converse with my troubled heart. 
 
 Far, far from me my husband stays ! 
 When will he come to heal its smart? 
 
 Ye princely men who with him mate. 
 Say, mark ye not his virtuous way. 
 
 His rule is — covet nought, none hate ; — 
 How can his steps from goodness stray?
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 The Plaint of a Rejected Wife 
 
 The east wind gently blows, 
 
 With cloudy skies and rain. 
 'Twixt man and wife should ne'er be strife, 
 
 But harmony obtain. 
 Radish and mustard plants 
 
 Are used, though some be poor; 
 (While my good name is free from blame, 
 
 Don't thrust me from your door. 
 
 I go along the road. 
 
 Slow, with reluctant heart. 
 Your escort lame to door but came. 
 
 There glad from me to part. 
 Sow-thistle, bitter called. 
 
 As shepherd's purse is sweet; 
 With your new mate you feast elate. 
 
 As joyous brothers meet. 
 
 Part clear, the stream of King 
 
 Is foul beside the Wei. 
 You feast elate with your new mate, 
 
 And take no heed of me. 
 Loose mate, avoid my dam, 
 
 Nor dare my basket move! 
 Person slighted, life all blighted. 
 
 What can the future prove? 
 
 The water deep, in boat, 
 
 Or raft-sustained, I'd go; 
 And where the stream did narrow seem, 
 
 I dived or breasted through. 
 I labored to increase 
 
 Our means, or great or small ; 
 When 'mong friends near death did appear, 
 
 On knees to help I'd crawl. 
 
 No cherishing you give, 
 
 I'm hostile in your eyes. 
 As pedler's wares for which none cares, ^ 
 
 My virtues you despise. 
 
 »37
 
 138 THE SHI-KING 
 
 When poverty was nigh, 
 
 I strove our means to spare ; 
 
 You, now rich grown, me scorn to own ; 
 To poison me compare. 
 
 The stores for winter piled 
 
 Are all unprized in spring. 
 So now, elate with your new mate, 
 
 Myself away you fling. 
 Your cool disdain for me 
 
 A bitter anguish hath. 
 The early time, our love's sweet prime, 
 
 In you wakes only wrath. 
 
 Soldiers of Wei Bewail Separation from Their Families 
 
 List to the thunder and roll of the drum ! 
 
 See how we spring and brandish the dart ! 
 Some raise Ts'aou's walls ; some do field work at home ; 
 
 But we to the southward lonely depart. 
 
 Our chief, Sun Tsze-chung, agreement has made, 
 Our forces to join with Ch'in and with Sung. 
 
 When shall we back from this service be led? 
 Our hearts are all sad, our courage unstrung. 
 
 Here we are halting, and there we delay ; 
 
 Anon we soon lose our high-mettled steeds. 
 The forest's gloom makes our steps go astray ; 
 
 Each thicket of trees our searching misleads. 
 
 For death as for life, at home or abroad, 
 
 We pledged to our wives our faithfulest word. 
 
 Their hands clasped in ours, together we vowed, 
 We'd live to old age in sweetest accord. 
 
 This march to the South can end but in ill ; 
 
 Oh ! never shall we our wives again meet. 
 The word that we pledged we cannot fulfil ; 
 
 Us home returning they never will greet.
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 An Officer Tells of His Mean Employment 
 
 With mind indifferent, things I easy take ; 
 In every dance I prompt appearance make: — 
 Then, when the sun is at his topmost height, 
 There, in the place that courts the pubHc sight. 
 
 With figure large I in the courtyard dance, 
 And the duke smiles, when he beholds me prance. 
 A tiger's strength I have ; the steeds swift bound ; 
 The reins as ribbons in my hands are found. 
 
 See how I hold the flute in my left hand; 
 In right the pheasant's plume, waved like a wand ; 
 With visage red, where rouge you think to trace, 
 While the duke pleased, sends down the cup of grace ! 
 
 Hazel on hills ; the ling in meadow damp ; — 
 Each has its place, while I'm a slighted scamp. 
 My thoughts go back to th' early days of Chow, 
 And muse upon its chiefs, not equalled now. 
 O noble chiefs, who then the West adorned, 
 Would ye have thus neglected me and scorned ? 
 
 An Officer Sets Forth His Hard Lot 
 
 My way leads forth by the gate on the north ; 
 
 My heart is full of woe. 
 I hav'n't a cent, begged, stolen, or lent. 
 And friends forget me so. 
 
 So let it be ! 'tis Heaven's decree. 
 What can I say — a poor fellow like me ? 
 
 The King has his throne, sans sorrow or moan ; 
 
 On me fall all his cares. 
 And when I come home, resolved not to roam. 
 Each one indignant stares. 
 
 So let it be ! 'tis Heaven's decree. 
 What can I say — a poor fellow like me ? 
 
 139
 
 14© THE SHI-KING 
 
 Each thing of the King, and the fate of the State, 
 
 On me come more and more. 
 And when, sad and worn, I come back forlorn, 
 Tliey thrust me from the door. 
 So let it be! 'tis Heaven's decree. 
 What can I say — a poor fellow like me? 
 
 The Complaint of a Neglected Wife 
 
 When the upper robe is green, 
 With a yellow lining seen, 
 There we have a certain token. 
 Right is wronged and order broken. 
 How can sorrow from my heart 
 In a case like this depart ? 
 
 Color green the robe displays ; 
 Lower garment yellow's blaze. 
 Thus it is that favorite mean 
 In the place of wife is seen. 
 Vain the conflict with my grief ; 
 Memory denies relief. 
 
 Yes, 'twas you the green who dyed. 
 
 You who fed the favorite's pride. 
 
 Anger rises in my heart, 
 
 Pierces it as with a dart. 
 
 But on ancient rules lean I, 
 
 Lest to wrong my thoughts should fly. 
 
 Fine or coarse, if thin the dress, 
 Cold winds always cause distress. 
 Hard my lot, my sorrow deep, 
 But my thoughts in check I keep. 
 Ancient story brings to mind 
 Sufiferers who were resigned. 
 
 [Note. — Yellow is one of the five " correct " colors of the Chinese, 
 while green is one of the " intermediate " colors that are less esteemed. 
 Here we have the yellow used merely as a lining to the green, or em- 
 ployed in the lower, or less honorable, part of the dress ; — an inversion 
 of propriety, and intimating how a favorite had usurped the place of 
 the rightful wife and thrust her down.]
 
 THE SHI-KING 141 
 
 In Praise of a Maiden 
 
 O sweet maiden, so fair and retiring, 
 At the corner I'm waiting for you ; 
 
 And I'm scratching my head, and inquiring 
 What on earth it were best I should do. 
 
 Oh ! the maiden, so handsome and coy, 
 For a pledge gave a sHm rosy reed. 
 
 Than the reed is she brighter, my joy ; 
 On her loveHness how my thoughts feed ! 
 
 In the pastures a t'e blade she sought, 
 And she gave it, so elegant, rare. 
 
 Oh ! the grass does not dwell in my thought, 
 But the donor, more elegant, fair. 
 
 Discontent 
 
 As when the north winds keenly blow. 
 And all around fast falls the snow, 
 The source of pain and suffering great, 
 So now it is in Wei's poor state. 
 Let us join hands and haste away, 
 
 My friends and lovers all. 
 'Tis not a time will brook delay ; 
 
 Things for prompt action call. 
 
 As when the north winds whistle shrill, 
 And drifting snows each hollow fill, 
 The source of pain and suffering great, 
 So now it is in Wei's poor state. 
 Let us join hands, and leave for aye, 
 
 My friends and lovers all, 
 'Tis not a time will brook delay ; 
 
 Things for prompt action call. 
 
 We look for red, and foxes meet ; 
 For black, and crows our vision greet. 
 The creatures, both of omen bad, 
 Well suit the state of Wei so sad.
 
 142 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Let us join hands and mount our cars. 
 My friends and lovers all. 
 
 No time remains for wordy jars ; 
 Things for prompt action call. 
 
 Chwang Keang Bemoans Her Husband's Cruelty 
 
 Fierce is the wind and cold ; 
 
 And such is he. 
 Smiling he looks, and bold 
 
 Speaks mockingly. 
 Scornful and lewd his words, 
 
 Haughty his smile. 
 Bound is my heart with cords 
 
 In sorrow's coil. 
 
 As cloud of dust wind-blown. 
 
 Just such is he. 
 Ready he seems to own, 
 
 And come to me. 
 But he comes not nor goes, 
 
 Stands in his pride. 
 Long, long, with painful throes. 
 
 Grieved I abide. 
 
 Strong blew the wind ; the cloud 
 
 Hastened away. 
 Soon dark again, the shroud 
 
 Covers the day. 
 I wake, and sleep no more 
 
 Visits my eyes. 
 His course I sad deplore, 
 
 With heavy sighs. 
 
 Cloudy the sky, and dark; 
 
 The thunders roll. 
 Such outward signs well mark 
 
 My troubled soul. 
 I wake, and sleep no more 
 
 Comes to give rest. 
 His course I sad deplore. 
 
 In anguished breast.
 
 BOOK VII* 
 
 THE ODES OF CH'ING 
 
 The People's Admiration for Duke Woo 
 
 The black robes well your form befit ; 
 
 When they are worn we'll make you new. 
 Now for your court ! oh ! there we'll sit, 
 And watch how you your duties do. 
 And when we to our homes repair, 
 We'll send to you our richest fare, 
 Such is the love to you we bear ! 
 
 Those robes well with your virtue match; 
 When they are worn we'll make you new. 
 Now for your court ! There will we watch, 
 Well pleased, how you your duties do. 
 And when we to our homes repair, 
 We'll send to you our richest fare, 
 Such is the love to you we bear ! 
 
 Those robes your character beseem ; 
 
 When they are worn we'll make you new. 
 Now for your court ! oh ! there we deem 
 It pleasure great your form to view. 
 And when we to our homes repair, 
 We'll send to you our richest fare, 
 Such is the love to you we bear! 
 
 A Wife Consoled by Her Husband's Arrival 
 
 Cold is the wind, fast falls the rain, 
 
 The cock aye shrilly crows. 
 But I have seen my lord again ; — 
 
 Now must my heart repose. 
 
 • [Selections from Books IV., V., and VI., have been omitted.— Editor.J
 
 144 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Whistles the wind, patters the rain, 
 The cock's crow far resounds. 
 
 But I have seen my lord again, 
 And healed are my heart's wounds. 
 
 All's dark amid the wind and rain, 
 Ceaseless the cock's clear voice ! 
 
 But I have seen my lord again ; — 
 Should not my heart rejoice? 
 
 In Praise of Some Lady 
 
 There by his side in chariot rideth she. 
 
 As lovely flower of the hibiscus tree, 
 
 So fair her face ; and when about they wheel, 
 
 Her girdle gems of Ken themselves reveal. 
 
 For beauty all the House of Keang have fame ; 
 
 Its eldest daughter — she beseems her name. 
 
 There on the path, close by him, walketh she, 
 Bright as the blossom of hibiscus tree, 
 And fair her face ; and when around they flit, 
 Her girdle gems a tinkling sound emit. 
 Among the Keang she has distinguished place, 
 For virtuous fame renowned, and peerless grace. 
 
 A Man's Praise of His Wife 
 
 My path forth from the east gate lay, 
 Where cloud-like moved the girls at play. 
 Numerous are they, as clouds so bright. 
 But not on them my heart's thoughts light. 
 Dressed in a thin white silk, with coiffure gray. 
 Is she, my wife, my joy in life's low way. 
 
 Forth by the covering wall's high tower, 
 
 I went, and saw, like rush in flower, 
 
 Each flaunting girl. Brilliant are they, 
 
 But not with them my heart's thoughts stay. 
 
 In thin white silk, with head-dress madder-dyed. 
 
 Is she, my sole delight, 'foretime my bride.
 
 THE SHI-KING 145 
 
 An Entreaty 
 
 Along the great highway, 
 I hold you by the cuff. 
 
 O spurn me not, I pray, 
 
 Nor break old friendship off. 
 
 Along the highway worn, 
 I hold your hand in mine. 
 
 Do not as vile me scorn ; 
 Your love I can't resign. 
 
 A Woman Scorning Her Lover 
 
 O dear ! that artful boy 
 
 Refuses me a word ! 
 But, Sir, I shall enjoy 
 
 My food, though you're absurd I 
 
 O dear ! that artful boy 
 My table will not share ! 
 
 But, Sir, I shall enjoy 
 
 My rest, though you're not there! 
 
 A Lady Mourns the Absence of Her Student Lover 
 
 You student, with the collar blue, 
 
 Long pines my heart with anxious pain. 
 
 Although I do not go to you. 
 
 Why from all word do you refrain? 
 
 O you, with girdle strings of blue. 
 My thoughts to you forever roam ! 
 
 Although I do not go to you. 
 
 Yet why to me should you not come? 
 
 How reckless you, how light and wild. 
 There by the tower upon the wall ! 
 
 One day, from sight of you exiled, 
 As long as three long months I call. 
 Vol. IV.— 10
 
 BOOK VIII 
 
 THE ODES OF TS'E 
 A Wife Urging Her Husband to Action 
 
 His lady to the marquis says, 
 
 " The cock has crowed ; 'tis late. 
 
 Get up, my lord, and haste to court. 
 'Tis full ; for you they wait." 
 
 She did not hear the cock's shrill sound, 
 
 Only the blueflies buzzing round. 
 
 Again she wakes him with the words, 
 
 " The east, my lord, is bright. 
 A crowded court your presence seeks; 
 
 Get up and hail the light." 
 'Twas not the dawning light which shone. 
 But that which by the moon was thrown. 
 
 He sleeping still, once more she says, 
 
 " The flies are buzzing loud. 
 To lie and dream here by your side 
 
 Were pleasant, but the crowd 
 Of officers will soon retire ; 
 Draw not on you and me their ire ! " 
 
 The Folly of Useless Effort 
 
 The weeds will but the ranker grow, 
 If fields too large you seek to till. 
 
 To try to gain men far away 
 
 With grief your toiling heart will fill, 
 146
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 If fields too large you seek to till, 
 The weeds will only rise more strong. 
 
 To try to gain men far away 
 
 Will but your heart's distress prolong. 
 
 Things grow the best when to themselves 
 Left, and to nature's vigor rare. 
 
 How young and tender is the child, 
 With his twin tufts of falling hair! 
 
 But when you him ere long behold, 
 That child shall cap of manhood wear! 
 
 The Prince of Loo 
 
 A grand man is the prince of Loo, 
 
 With person large and high. 
 Lofty his front and suited to 
 
 The fine glance of his eye! 
 Swift are his feet. In archery 
 
 What man with him can vie? 
 With all these goodly qualities. 
 
 We see him and we sigh ! 
 
 Renowned through all the land is he, 
 
 The nephew of our lord. 
 With clear and lovely eyes, his grace 
 
 May not be told by word. 
 All day at target practice, 
 
 He'll never miss the bird. 
 Such is the prince of Loo, and yet 
 
 With grief for him we're stirred ! 
 
 All grace and beauty he displays. 
 
 High forehead and eyes bright. 
 And dancing choice ! His arrows all 
 
 The target hit aright. 
 Straight through they go, and every one 
 
 Lights on the self-same spot. 
 Rebellion he could well withstand. 
 
 And yet we mourn his lot 1 
 
 147
 
 BOOK IX 
 
 THE ODES OF WEI 
 
 On the Misgovernment of the State 
 
 A fruit, small as the garden peach, 
 
 May still be used for food. 
 A State, though poor as ours, might thrive, 
 
 If but its rule were good. 
 Our rule is bad, our State is sad, 
 
 With mournful heart I grieve. 
 All can from instrument and voice 
 
 My mood of mind perceive. 
 Who know me not, with scornful thought, 
 
 Deem me a scholar proud. 
 " Those men are right," they fiercely say, 
 
 " What mean your words so loud ? " 
 Deep in my heart my sorrows lie, 
 
 And none the cause may know. 
 How should they know who never try 
 
 To learn whence comes our woe? 
 
 The garden jujube, although small, 
 
 May still be used for food. 
 A State, though poor as ours, might thrive, 
 
 If but its rule were good. 
 Our rule is bad, our State is sad. 
 
 With mournful heart I grieve. 
 Methinks I'll wander through the land. 
 
 My misery to relieve. 
 Who know me not, with scornful thought, 
 
 Deem that wild views I hold. 
 " Those men are right," they fiercely say, 
 
 " What mean your words so bold ? " 
 148
 
 THE SHI-KING 149 
 
 Deep in my heart my sorrows lie, 
 And none the cause may know. 
 
 How can they know, who never try 
 To learn whence comes our woe? 
 
 The Mean Husband 
 
 Thin cloth of doHchos supplies the shoes. 
 
 In which some have to brave the frost and cold. 
 
 A bride, when poor, her tender hands must use, 
 Her dress to make, and the sharp needle hold. 
 
 This man is wealthy, yet he makes his bride 
 Collars and waistbands for his robes provide. 
 
 Conscious of wealth, he moves with easy mien; 
 
 Politely on the left he takes his place; 
 The ivory pin is at his girdle seen : — 
 
 His dress and gait show gentlemanly grace. 
 Why do we brand him in our satire here? 
 
 'Tis this — his niggard soul provokes the sneer. 
 
 A Young Soldier on Service 
 
 To the top of that tree-clad hill I go. 
 
 And towards my father I gaze. 
 Till with my mind's eye his form I espy. 
 
 And my mind's ear hears how he says: — 
 " Alas for my son on service abroad ! 
 
 He rests not from morning till eve. 
 May he careful be and come back to me ! 
 
 While he is away, how I grieve ! " 
 
 To the top of that barren hill I climb. 
 
 And towards my mother I gaze. 
 Till with my mind's eye her form I espy, 
 
 And my mind's ear hears how she says : — 
 " Alas for my child on service abroad ! 
 
 He never in sleep shuts an eye. 
 May he careful be, and come back to me! 
 
 In the wild may his body not lie ! "
 
 ISO 
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Up the lofty ridge I, toiling, ascend, 
 
 And towards my brother I gaze, 
 Till with my mind's eye his form I espy. 
 
 And my mind's ear hears how he says: — 
 " Alas ! my young brother, serving abroad, 
 
 All day with his comrades must roam. 
 May he careful be, and come back to me, 
 
 And die not away from his home."
 
 BOOK X 
 
 THE ODES OF TANG 
 
 The King Goes to War 
 
 The wild geese fly the bushy oaks around, 
 
 With clamor loud. Suh-siih their wings resound, 
 
 As for their feet poor resting-place is found. 
 
 The King's affairs admit of no delay. 
 
 Our millet still unsown, we haste away. 
 
 No food is left our parents to supply ; 
 
 When we are gone, on whom can they rely? 
 
 O azure Heaven, that shinest there afar, 
 
 When shall our homes receive us from the war? 
 
 The wild geese on the bushy jujube-trees 
 
 Attempt to settle and are ill at ease ; — 
 
 Siih-siih their wings go flapping in the breeze. 
 
 The King's afifairs admit of no delay ; 
 
 Our millet still unsown, we haste away. 
 
 How shall our parents their requirements get? 
 
 How in our absence shall their wants be met? 
 
 O azure Heaven, that shinest there afar. 
 
 When shall our homes receive us from the war? 
 
 The bushy mulberry-trees the geese in rows 
 Seek eager and to rest around them close — 
 With rustling loud, as disappointment grows. 
 The King's affairs admit of no delay; 
 To plant our rice and maize we cannot stay. 
 How shall our parents find their wonted food? 
 When we are gone, who will to them be good ? 
 O azure Heaven, that shinest there afar, 
 When shall our homes receive us from the war? 
 151
 
 153 
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Lament of a Bereaved Person 
 
 A russet pear-tree rises all alone, 
 
 But rich the growth of leaves upon it shown! 
 
 I walk alone, without one brother left, 
 
 And thus of natural aid am 1 bereft. 
 
 Plenty of people there are all around, 
 
 But none like my own father's sons are found. 
 
 Ye travellers, who forever hurry by, 
 
 Why on me turn the unsympathizing eye? 
 
 No brother lives with whom my cause to plead ;- 
 
 Why not perform for me the helping deed ? 
 
 A russet pear-tree rises all alone, 
 
 But rich with verdant foliage o'ergrown. 
 
 I walk alone, without one brother's care. 
 
 To whom I might, amid my straits repair. 
 
 Plenty of people there are all around, 
 
 But none like those of my own name are found. 
 
 Ye travellers, who forever hurry by, 
 
 Why on me turn the unsympathizing eye? 
 
 No brother lives with whom my cause to plead;— 
 
 Why not perform for me the helping deed? 
 
 The Drawbacks of Poverty 
 
 On the left of the way, a russet pear-tree 
 
 Stands there all alone — a fit image of me. 
 
 There is that princely man ! O that he would come, 
 
 And in my poor dwelling with me be at home! 
 
 In the core of my heart do I love him, but say. 
 
 Whence shall I procure him the wants of the day? 
 
 At the bend in the way a russet pear-tree 
 
 Stands there all alone — a fit image of me. 
 
 There is that princely man ! O that he would come. 
 
 And rambling with me be himself here at home I 
 
 In the core of my heart I love him, but say. 
 
 Whence shall I procure him the wants of the day?
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 "53 
 
 A Wife Mourns for Her Husband 
 
 The dolichos grows and covers the thorn, 
 O'er the waste is the dragon-plant creeping. 
 
 The man of my heart is away and I mourn — 
 What home have I, lonely and weeping? 
 
 Covering the jujubes the dolichos grows. 
 
 The graves many dragon-plants cover; 
 But where is the man on whose breast I'd repose? 
 
 No home have I, having no lover! 
 
 Fair to see was the pillow of horn, 
 
 And fair the bed-chamber's adorning; 
 But the man of my heart is not here, and I mourn 
 
 All alone, and wait for the morning. 
 
 While the long days of summer pass over my head. 
 And long winter nights leave their traces, 
 
 I'm alone ! Till a hundred of years shall have fled, 
 And then I shall meet his embraces. 
 
 Through the long winter nights I am burdened with fears, 
 Through the long summer days I am lonely ; 
 
 But when time shall have counted its hundreds of years 
 I then shall be his — and his only !
 
 BOOK XI 
 
 THE ODES OF TS'IN 
 
 Celebrating the Opulence of the Lords of Ts'in 
 
 Our ruler to the hunt proceeds; 
 And black as iron are his steeds 
 That heed the charioteer's command, 
 Who holds the six reins in his hand. 
 His favorites follow to the chase, 
 Rejoicing in his special grace. 
 
 The season's males, alarmed, arise — 
 The season's males, of wondrous size. 
 Driven by the beaters, forth they spring. 
 Soon caught within the hunters' ring. 
 " Drive on their left," the ruler cries ; 
 And to its mark his arrow flies. 
 
 The hunting done, northward he goes ; 
 And in the park the driver shows 
 The horses' points, and his own skill 
 That rules and guides them at his will. 
 Light cars whose teams small bells display. 
 The long- and short-mouthed dogs convey. 
 
 A Complaint 
 
 He lodged us in a spacious house, 
 And plenteous was our fare. 
 
 But now at every frugal meal 
 There's not a scrap to spare. 
 
 Alas! alas that this good man 
 
 Could not go on as he began ! 
 154
 
 THE SHI-KING 155 
 
 A Wife's Grief Because of Her Husband's Absence 
 
 The falcon swiftly seeks the north, 
 And forest gloom that sent it forth. 
 Since I no more my husband see, 
 My heart from grief is never free. 
 O how is it, I long to know. 
 That he, my lord, forgets me so? 
 
 Bushy oaks on the mountain grow. 
 And six elms where the ground is low. 
 But I, my husband seen no more. 
 My sad and joyless fate deplore. 
 O how is it, I long to know. 
 That he, my lord, forgets me so? 
 
 The hills the bushy wild plums show, 
 And pear-trees grace the ground below. 
 But, with my husband from me gone, 
 As drunk with grief, I dwell alone. 
 O how is it, I long to know. 
 That he, my lord, forgets me so? 
 
 Lament for Three Brothers 
 
 They flit about, the yellow birds, 
 And rest upon the jujubes find. 
 
 Who buried were in duke Muh's grave, 
 Alive to awful death consigned? 
 
 'Mong brothers three, who met that fate, 
 'Twas sad the first, Yen-seih to see. 
 
 He stood alone ; a hundred men 
 Could show no other such as he. 
 
 When to the yawning grave he came. 
 
 Terror unnerved and shook his frame. 
 
 Why thus destroy our noblest men. 
 To thee we cry, O azure Heaven! 
 
 To save Yen-seih from death, we would 
 A hundred lives have freely given.
 
 156 THE SHI-KING 
 
 They flit about, the yehow birds, 
 And on the mulberry-trees rest find. 
 
 Who buried were in duke Muh's grave, 
 Alive to awful death consigned? 
 
 'Mong brothers three, who met that fate, 
 'Twas sad the next, Chung-hang to see. 
 
 When on him pressed a hundred men, 
 A match for all of them was he. 
 
 When to the yawning grave he came, 
 
 Terror unnerved and shook his frame. 
 
 Why thus destroy our noblest men. 
 
 To thee we cry, O azure Heaven ! 
 To save Chung-hang from death, we would 
 
 A hundred lives have freely given. 
 
 They flit about, the yellow birds, 
 
 And rest upon the thorn-trees find. 
 Who buried were in duke Muh's grave. 
 
 Alive to awful death consigned? 
 
 'Mong brothers three, w^ho met that fate, 
 'Twas sad the third, K'een-foo, to see. 
 
 A hundred men in desperate fight 
 Successfully withstand could he. 
 
 When to the yawning grave he came. 
 
 Terror unnerved and shook his frame. 
 
 Why thus destroy our noblest men, 
 
 To thee we cry, O azure Heaven ! 
 To save K'een-foo from death, we would 
 
 A hundred lives have freely given. 
 
 [Note. — The incident related in this poem occurred in the year B.C. 
 620, when the duke of Muh died after playing an important part in the 
 affairs of Northwest China. Muh required the three officers here 
 celebrated, to be buried with him, and according to the " Historical 
 Records " this barbarous practice began with duke Ching, Muh's prede- 
 cessor. In all, 170 individuals were buried with Muh. The death of 
 the last distinguished man of the Ts'in dynasty, the Emperor I, was 
 subsequently celebrated by the entombment with him of all the inmates 
 of his harem.]
 
 THE SHI-KING 157 
 
 In Praise of a Ruler of Ts'in 
 
 What trees grow on the Chung-nan hill? 
 
 The white fir and the plum. 
 In fur of fox, 'neath 'broidered robe, 
 
 Thither our prince is come. 
 His face glows with vermilion hue. 
 
 may he prove a ruler true ! 
 
 What find we on the Chung-nan hill? 
 
 Deep nook and open glade. 
 Our prince shows there the double Ke 
 
 On lower robe displayed. 
 His pendant holds each tinkling gem, 
 Long life be his, and deathless fame! 
 
 The Generous Nephew 
 
 1 escorted my uncle to Tsin, 
 
 Till the Wei we crossed on the way. 
 
 Then I gave as I left 
 
 For his carriage a gift 
 Four steeds, and each steed was a bay. 
 
 I escorted my uncle to Tsin, 
 
 And I thought of him much in my heart. 
 
 Pendent stones, and with them 
 
 Of fine jasper a gem, 
 I gave, and then saw him depart.
 
 BOOK XII 
 
 THE ODES OF CH'IN 
 
 The Contentment of a Poor Recluse 
 
 My only door some pieces of crossed wood, 
 
 Within it I can rest enjoy. 
 I drink the water wimpling from the spring; 
 
 Nor hunger can my peace destroy. 
 
 Purged from ambition's aims I say, " For fish, 
 We need not bream caught in the Ho ; 
 
 Nor, to possess the sweets of love, require 
 To Ts*e, to find a Keang, to go. 
 
 " The man contented with his lot, a meal 
 Of fish without Ho carp can make ; 
 
 Nor needs, to rest in his domestic joy, 
 A Tsze of Sung as wife to take." 
 
 The Disappointed Lover 
 
 Where grow the willows near the eastern gate, 
 And 'neath their leafy shade we could recline, 
 
 She said at evening she would me await, 
 And brightly now I see the day-star shine! 
 
 Here where the willows near the eastern gate 
 
 Grow, and their dense leaves make a shady gloom. 
 
 She said at evening she would me await. 
 See now the morning star the sky illume ! 
 158
 
 THE SHI-KING j^^ 
 
 A Love-Song 
 
 The moon comes forth, bright in the sky; 
 A loveher sight to draw my eye 
 
 Is she, that lady fair. 
 She round my heart has fixed love's chain. 
 But all my longings are in vain. 
 
 'Tis hard the grief to bear. 
 
 The moon comes forth, a splendid sight ; 
 More vvinning far that lady bright, 
 
 Object of my desire ! 
 Deep-seated is my anxious grief; 
 In vain I seek to find relief, 
 
 While glows the secret fire. 
 
 The rising moon shines mild and fair; 
 More bright is she, whose beauty rare ' 
 
 My heart with longing fills. 
 With eager wish I pine in vain ; 
 O for relief from constant pain, 
 
 Which through my bosom thrills! 
 
 The Lament of a Lover 
 
 There where its shores the marsh surround. 
 
 Rushes and lotus plants abound. 
 
 Their loveliness brings to my mind 
 
 The lovelier one that I would find. 
 
 In vain I try to ease the smart 
 
 Of wounded love that wrings my heart. 
 
 In waking thought and nightly dreams. 
 
 From every pore the water streams. 
 
 All round the marsh's shores are seen 
 Valerian flowers and rushes green. 
 But lovelier is that Beauty rare. 
 Handsome and large, and tall and fair. 
 I wish and long to call her mine, 
 Doomed with the longing still to pine. 
 Nor day nor night e'er brings relief; 
 My inmost heart is full of grief.
 
 ,6o THE SHI-KING 
 
 Around the marsh, in rich display, 
 Grow rush and lotus flowers, all gay. 
 But not with her do they compare, 
 So tall and large, majestic, fair. 
 Both day and night, I nothing speed ; 
 Still clings to me the aching need. 
 On side, on back, on face, I Ue, 
 But vain each change of posture try.
 
 BOOK XIII 
 THE ODES OF KWEI 
 
 The Wish of an Unhappy Man 
 
 Where the grounds are wet and low, 
 There the trees of goat-peach grow, 
 With their branches small and smooth, 
 Glossy in their tender youth. 
 Joy it were to me, O tree. 
 Consciousness to want like thee. 
 
 Where the grounds are wet and low. 
 There the trees of goat-peach grow. 
 Soft and fragrant are their flowers. 
 Glossy from the vernal showers. 
 Joy it were to me, O tree, 
 Ties of home to want like thee. 
 
 Where the grounds are wet and low, 
 There the trees of goat-peach grow. 
 What delicious fruits they bear. 
 Glossy, soft, of beauty rare ! 
 Joy it were to me, O tree, 
 Household cares to want like thee. 
 
 Vol. IV.— II i6i
 
 BOOK XIV 
 
 THE ODES OF TS'AOU 
 
 Against Frivolous Pursuits 
 
 Like splendid robes appear the wings 
 
 Of the ephemeral fly; 
 And such the pomp of those great men, 
 
 Which soon in death shall lie! 
 I grieve! Would they but come to me! 
 
 To teach them I should try. 
 
 The wings of the ephemeral fly 
 
 Are robes of colors gay ; 
 And such the glory of those men, 
 
 Soon crumbling to decay ! 
 I grieve ! Would they but rest with me, 
 
 They'd learn a better way! 
 
 The ephemeral fly bursts from its hole, 
 
 With gauzy wings like snow ; 
 So quick the rise, so quick the fall. 
 
 Of those great men we know ! 
 I grieve! Would they but lodge with me. 
 
 Forth they would wiser go. 
 
 i6a
 
 BOOK XV 
 THE ODES OF PIN 
 
 The Duke of Chow Tells of His Soldiers 
 
 To the hills of the east we went, 
 
 And long had we there to remain. 
 When the word of recall was sent, 
 
 Thick and fast came the drizzling rain. 
 When told our return we should take. 
 
 Our hearts in the West were and sore ; 
 But there did they clothes for us make : — 
 
 They knew our hard service was o'er. 
 On the mulberry grounds in our sight 
 
 The large caterpillars were creeping; 
 Lonely and still we passed the night, 
 
 All under our carriages sleeping. 
 
 To the hills of the East we went, 
 
 And long had we there to remain. 
 When the word of recall was sent. 
 
 Thick and fast came the drizzling rain. 
 The heavenly gourds rise to the eye. 
 
 With their fruit hanging under the eave. 
 In our chambers the sow-bug we spy ; 
 
 Their webs on our doors spiders weave. 
 Our paddocks seem crowded with deer, 
 
 With the glow-worm's light all about. 
 Such thoughts, while they filled us with fear, 
 
 We tried, but in vain, to keep out. 
 
 To the hills of the East we went, 
 And long had we there to remain. 
 
 When the word of recall was sent, 
 
 Thick and fast came the drizzling rain. 
 163
 
 i64 THE SHI-KING 
 
 On ant-hills screamed cranes with delight; 
 
 In their rooms were our wives sighing sore. 
 Our homes they had swept and made tight : — 
 
 All at once we arrived at the door. 
 The bitter gourds hanging are seen, 
 
 From branches of chestnut-trees high. 
 Three years of toil away we had been, 
 
 Since such a sight greeted the eye. 
 
 To the hills of the East we went. 
 
 And long had we there to remain. 
 When the word of recall was sent. 
 
 Thick and fast came the drizzling rain. 
 With its wings now here, and now there, 
 
 Is the oriole sporting in flight. 
 Those brides to their husbands repair. 
 
 Their steeds red and bay, flecked with white. 
 Each mother has fitted each sash; 
 
 Their equipments are full and complete; 
 But fresh unions, whatever their dash. 
 
 Can ne'er with reunions compete. 
 
 There is a Proper Way for Doing Everything 
 
 In hewing an axe-shaft, how must you act? 
 
 Another axe take, or you'll never succeed. 
 In taking a wife, be sure 'tis a fact, 
 
 That with no go-between you never can speed. 
 
 In hewing an axe-shaft, hewing a shaft, 
 For a copy you have the axe in your hand. 
 
 In choosing a wife, you follow the craft. 
 And forthwith on the mats the feast-vessels stand.
 
 PART II.— MINOR ODES OF THE KINGDOM 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 DECADE OF LUH MING 
 A Festal Ode 
 
 With sounds of happiness the deer 
 
 Browse on the celery of the meads. 
 A nobler feast is furnished here, 
 
 With guests renowned for noble deeds. 
 The lutes are struck ; the organ blows, 
 
 Till all its tongues in movement heave. 
 Each basket loaded stands, and shows 
 
 The precious gifts the guests receive. 
 They love me and my mind will teach, 
 How duty's highest aim to reach. 
 
 With sounds of happiness the deer 
 
 The southern-wood crop in the meads, 
 What noble guests surround me here, 
 
 Distinguished for their worthy deeds! 
 From them my people learn to fly 
 
 Whate'er is mean ; to chiefs they give 
 A model and a pattern high ; — 
 
 They show the life they ought to live. 
 Then fill their cups with spirits rare, 
 Till each the banquet's joy shall share. 
 
 With sounds of happiness the deer 
 
 The salsola crop in the fields. 
 What noble guests surround me here! 
 
 Each lute for them its music yields. 
 Sound, sound the lutes, or great or small, 
 
 The joy harmonious to prolong; — 
 165
 
 i66 THE SHI-KING 
 
 And with my spirits rich crown all 
 
 The cups to cheer the festive throng. 
 Let each retire with gladdened heart, 
 In his own sphere to play his part. 
 
 A Festal Ode Complimenting an Officer 
 
 On dashed my four steeds, without halt, without stay, 
 Though toilsome and winding from Chow was the way. 
 I wished to return — but the monarch's command 
 Forbade that his business be done with slack hand; 
 And my heart was with sadness oppressed. 
 
 On dashed my four steeds ; I ne'er slackened the reins. 
 They snorted and panted — all white, with black manes. 
 I wished to return, but our sovereign's command 
 Forbade that his business be done with slack hand ; — 
 And I dared not to pause or to rest. 
 
 Unresting the Filial doves speed in their flight, 
 Ascending, then sweeping swift down from the height, 
 Now grouped on the oaks. The king's high command 
 Forbade that his business be done with slack hand ; — 
 And my father I left, sore distressed. 
 
 Unresting the Filial doves speed in their flight. 
 Now fanning the air and anon they alight 
 On the medlars thick grouped. But our monarch's command 
 Forbade that his business be done with slack hand ; — 
 Of my mother I thought with sad breast. 
 
 My four steeds I harnessed, all white and black-maned, 
 Which straight on their way, fleet and emulous strained. 
 I wished to return ; and now venture in song 
 The wish to express, and announce how I long 
 For my mother my care to attest. 
 
 [Note. — Both Maou and Choo agree that this ode was composed in 
 honor of the officer who narrates the story in it, although they say it 
 was not written by the officer himself, but was pu< into his mouth, as 
 it were, to express the sympathy of his entertainer with him, and the 
 appreciation of his devotion to duty.]
 
 THE SHI-KING 167 
 
 The Value of Friendship 
 
 The woodmen's blows responsive ring, 
 
 As on the trees they fall ; 
 And when the birds their sweet notes sing, 
 
 They to each other call. 
 From the dark valley comes a bird, 
 
 And seeks the lofty tree. 
 Ying goes its voice, and thus it cries, 
 
 " Companion, come to me." 
 The bird, although a creature small. 
 
 Upon its mate depends ; 
 And shall we men, who rank o'er all, 
 
 Not seek to have our friends? 
 All spirits love the friendly man. 
 
 And hearken to his prayer. 
 What harmony and peace they can 
 
 Bestow, his lot shall share. 
 
 Hoo-hoo the woodmen all unite 
 
 To shout, as trees they fell. 
 They do their work with all their might ; — 
 
 What I have done I'll tell. 
 I've strained and made my spirits clear. 
 
 The fatted lambs I've killed. 
 With friends who my own surname bear, 
 
 My hall I've largely filled. 
 Some may be absent, casually. 
 
 And leave a broken line ; 
 But better this than absence by 
 
 An oversight of mine. 
 My court I've sprinkled and swept clean, 
 
 Viands in order set. 
 Eight dishes loaded stand with grain ; 
 
 There's store of fatted meat. 
 My mother's kith and kin I'm sure 
 
 I've widely called by name. 
 That some be hindered better is 
 
 Than I give cause for blame.
 
 i68 THE SHI-KING 
 
 On the hill-side the trees they fell, 
 
 All working with good-will. 
 I labor too, with equal zeal, 
 
 And the host's part fulfil. 
 Spirits I've set in order meet. 
 
 The dishes stand in rows. 
 The guests are here; no vacant seat 
 
 A brother absent shows. 
 The loss of kindly feeling oft 
 
 From slightest things shall grow, 
 Where all the fare is dry and spare. 
 
 Resentments fierce may glow. 
 My store of spirits is well strained, 
 
 If short prove the supply. 
 My messengers I straightway send. 
 
 And what is needed buy. 
 I beat the drums, and in the dance 
 
 Lead joyously the train. 
 Oh ! good it is, when falls the chance 
 
 The sparkling cup to drain. 
 
 The Response to a Festal Ode 
 
 Heaven shields and sets thee fast. 
 It round thee fair has cast 
 
 Thy virtue pure. 
 Thus richest joy is thine ; — 
 Increase of corn and wine. 
 And every gift divine, 
 
 Abundant, sure. 
 
 Heaven shields and sets thee fast. 
 From it thou goodness hast; 
 
 Right are thy ways. 
 Its choicest gifts 'twill pour, 
 That last for evermore, 
 Nor time exhaust the store 
 
 Through endless days.
 
 THE SHI-KING 169 
 
 Heaven shields and sets thee fast, 
 Makes thine endeavor last 
 
 And prosper well. 
 Like hills and mountains high, 
 Whose masses touch the sky; 
 Like streams aye surging by; 
 
 Thine increase swell ! 
 
 With rite and auspice fair, 
 Thine offerings thou dost bear. 
 
 And son-like give, 
 The season's round from spring, 
 To olden duke and king. 
 Whose words to thee we bring: — 
 
 " Forever live." 
 
 The spirits of thy dead 
 Pour blessings on thy head. 
 
 Unnumbered sweet. 
 Thy subjects, simple, good, 
 Enjoy their drink and food. 
 Our tribes of every blood 
 
 Follow thy feet. 
 
 Like moons that wax in light ; 
 Or suns that scale the height; 
 
 Or ageless hill ; 
 Nor change, nor autumn know ; 
 As pine and cypress grow ; 
 The sons that from thee flow 
 
 Be lasting still! 
 
 An Ode of Congratulation 
 
 The russet pear-tree stands there all alone ; 
 How bright the growth of fruit upon it shown ! 
 The King's affairs no stinting hands require, 
 And days prolonged still mock our fond desire. 
 But time has brought the tenth month of the year; 
 My woman's heart is torn with wound severe. 
 Surely my warrior lord might now appear!
 
 I70 THE SHI-KING 
 
 The russet pear-tree stands there all alone ; 
 How dense the leafy shade all o'er it thrown! 
 The King's afifairs require no slackening hand, 
 And our sad hearts their feelings can't command. 
 The plants and trees in beauty shine ; 'tis spring. 
 From off my heart its gloom I fain would fling. 
 This season well my warrior home may bring! 
 
 I climbed that northern hill, and medlars sought ; 
 The spring nigh o'er, to ripeness they were brought. 
 " The King's affairs cannot be slackly done " ; — 
 'Tis thus our parents mourn their absent son. 
 But now his sandal car must broken be; 
 I seem his powerful steeds worn out to see. 
 Relief has gone ! He can't be far from me ! 
 
 Alas ! they can't have marched ; they don't arrive ! 
 More hard it grows with my distress to strive. 
 The time is passed, and still he is not here ! 
 My sorrows multiply ; great is my fear. 
 But lo! by reeds and shell I have divined, 
 That he is near, they both assure my mind ; — 
 Soon at my side my warrior I shall find ! 
 
 An Ode on the Return of the Troops 
 
 Forth from the city in our cars we drove, 
 
 Until we halted at the pasture ground. 
 The general came, and there with ardor strove 
 
 A note of zeal throughout the host to sound. 
 
 " Direct from court I come, by orders bound 
 The march to hasten " ; — it was thus he spake. 
 
 Then with the carriage-officers around. 
 He strictly charged them quick despatch to make : — 
 " Urgent the King's affairs, forthwith the field we take." 
 
 While there we stopped, the second corps appeared. 
 And 'twixt us and the city took its place. 
 
 The guiding standard was on high upreared, 
 Where twining snakes the tortoises embrace. 
 While oxtails, crest-like, did the staff's top grace. 
 
 We watched the sheet unfolding grandly wave ; 
 Each flag" around showed falcons on its face.
 
 THE SHI-KING 171 
 
 With anxious care looked on our leader brave ; 
 Watchful the carriage-officers appeared and grave. 
 
 Nan Cimng, our chief, had heard the royal call 
 
 To go where inroad by Heen-yuns v^ras made, 
 And 'cross the frontier build a barrier wall. 
 
 Numerous his chariots, splendidly arrayed! 
 
 The standards — this where dragons were displayed, 
 And that where snakes round tortoises were coiled — 
 
 Terrific flew. " Northward our host," he said, 
 " Heaven's son sends forth to tame the Heen-yun wild." 
 Soon by this awful chief would all their tribes be foiled. 
 
 When first we took the field, and northward went, 
 
 The millet was in flower ; — a prospect sweet. 
 Now when our weary steps are homeward bent, 
 
 The snow falls fast, the mire impedes our feet. 
 
 Many the hardships we were called to meet. 
 Ere the King's orders we had all fulfilled. 
 
 No rest we had; often our friends to greet 
 The longing came ; but vain regrets we stilled ; 
 By tablets stern our hearts with fresh resolve were thrilled. 
 
 " Incessant chirp the insects in the grass ; 
 
 All round about the nimble hoppers spring. 
 From them our thoughts quick to our husbands pass, 
 
 Although those thoughts our hearts with anguish wring. 
 
 Oh! could we see them, what relief 'twould bring! 
 Our hearts, rejoiced, at once would feel at rest." 
 
 Thus did our wives, their case deploring, sing; 
 The while our leader farther on had pressed, 
 And smitten with his power the wild Jung of the west. 
 
 The spring days now are lengthening out their light; 
 
 The plants and trees are dressed in living green ; 
 The orioles resting sing, or wing their flight ; 
 
 Our wives amid the southern-wood are seen, 
 
 Which white they bring, to feed their silkworms keen. 
 Our host, returned, sweeps onwards to the hall. 
 
 Where chiefs are questioned, shown the captives mean 
 Nan Chung, majestic, draws the gaze of all. 
 Proud o'er the barbarous foe his victories to recall.
 
 BOOK II 
 
 THE DECADE OF PIH H'WA 
 
 An Ode Appropriate to a Festivity 
 
 The dew lies heavy all around, 
 
 Nor, till the sun shines, leaves the ground. 
 
 Far into night we feasting sit ; 
 
 We drink, and none his place may quit. 
 
 The dew lies heavy, and its gems 
 Stud the luxuriant, grassy stems. 
 The happy night with wassail rings; 
 So feasted here the former kings. 
 
 The jujube and the willow-tree 
 All fretted with the dew we see. 
 Each guest's a prince of noble line, 
 In whom the virtues all combine. 
 
 The t'ung and c their fruits display, 
 Pendant from every graceful spray. 
 My guests are joyous and serene, 
 No haggard eye, no ruffled mien. 
 
 172
 
 BOOK III 
 
 THE DECADE OF TUNG KUNG 
 
 Celebrating a Hunting Expedition 
 
 Our chariots were well-built and firm, 
 
 Well-matched our steeds, and fleet and strong. 
 
 Four, sleek and large, each chariot drew, 
 And eastward thus we drove along. 
 
 Our hunting cars were light and good. 
 Each with its team of noble steeds. 
 
 Still further east we took the way 
 To Foo-mere's grassy plains that leads. 
 
 Loud-voiced, the masters of the chase 
 Arranged the huntsmen, high and low. 
 
 While banners streamed, and ox-tails flew. 
 We sought the prey on distant Gaou. 
 
 Each with full team, the princes came, 
 A lengthened train in bright array. 
 
 In gold-wrought slippers, knee-caps red. 
 They looked as on an audience day. 
 
 Each right thumb wore the metal guard; 
 
 On the left arm its shield was bound. 
 In unison the arrows flew ; 
 
 The game lay piled upon the ground. 
 
 The leaders of the tawny teams 
 
 Sped on their course, direct and true. 
 
 The drivers perfect skill displayed ; 
 Like blow well aimed each arrow flew. 
 173
 
 174 THE SHI-KIi\G 
 
 Neighing and pleased, the steeds returned; 
 
 The bannered Hnes back slowly came. 
 No josthng rude disgraced the crowd ; 
 
 The king decHned large share of game. 
 
 So did this famous hunt proceed ! 
 
 So free it was from clamorous sound! 
 Well does our King become his place, 
 
 And high the deeds his reign have crowned ! 
 
 The King's Anxiety for His Morning Levee 
 
 How goes the night? For heavy morning sleep 
 111 suits the king who men would loyal keep. 
 The courtyard, ruddy with the torch's light. 
 Proclaims unspent the deepest hour of night. 
 Already near the gate my lords appear; 
 Their tinkling bells salute my wakeful ear. 
 
 How goes the night? I may not slumber on. 
 
 Although not yet the night is wholly gone. 
 
 The paling torch-light in the court below 
 
 Gives token that the hours swift-footed go. 
 
 Already at the gate my lords appear; 
 
 Their tinkling bells with measured sound draw near. 
 
 How goes the night? I may not slumber now. 
 The darkness smiles with morning on its brow. 
 The courtyard torch no more gives forth its ray, 
 But heralds with its smoke the coming day. 
 My princes pass the gate, and gather there; 
 I see their banners floating in the air. 
 
 Moral Lessons from Natural Facts 
 
 All true words fly, as from yon reedy marsh 
 The crane rings o'er the wild its screaming harsh. 
 Vainly you try reason in chains to keep ; — 
 Freely it moves as fish sweeps through the deep.
 
 THE SHI-KING 175 
 
 Hate follows love, as 'neath those sandal-trees 
 The withered leaves the eager searcher sees. 
 The hurtful ne'er without some good was born ; — 
 The stones that mar the hill will grind the corn. 
 
 All true words spread, as from the marsh's eye 
 The crane's sonorous note ascends the sky. 
 Goodness throughout the widest sphere abides, 
 As fish round isle and through the ocean glides. 
 And lesser good near greater you shall see, 
 As grows the paper shrub 'neath sandal-tree. 
 And good emerges from what man condemns; — 
 Those stones that mar the hill will polish gems.
 
 BOOK IV 
 
 THE DECADE OF K'E-FOG 
 
 On the Completion of a Royal Palace 
 
 On yonder banks a palace, lo! upshoots, 
 The tender blue of southern hill behind ; 
 
 Firm-founded, like the bamboo's clamping roots; 
 Its roof made pine-like, to a point defined. 
 
 Fraternal love here bears its precious fruits, 
 And unfraternal schemes be ne'er designed ! 
 
 Ancestral sway is his. The walls they rear. 
 
 Five thousand cubits long; and south and west 
 
 The doors are placed. Here will the king appear, 
 Here laugh, here talk, here sit him down and rest. 
 
 To mould the walls, the frames they firmly tie; 
 
 The toiling builders beat the earth and lime. 
 The walls shall vermin, storm, and bird defy ; — 
 
 Fit dwelling is it for his lordly prime. 
 
 Grand is the hall the noble lord ascends ; — 
 
 In height, like human form most reverent, grand ; 
 
 And straight, as flies the shaft when bow unbends ; 
 Its tints, like hues when pheasant's wings expand. 
 
 High pillars rise the level court around ; 
 
 The pleasant light the open chamber steeps ; 
 And deep recesses, wide alcoves, are found. 
 
 Where our good king in perfect quiet sleeps. 
 
 Laid is the bamboo mat on rush mat square ; — 
 Here shall he sleep, and, waking, say, " Divine 
 What dreams are good? For bear and grizzly bear, 
 And snakes and cobras, haunt this couch of mine." 
 1.76
 
 THE SHI-KING 177 
 
 Then shall the chief diviner glad reply, 
 
 " The bears foreshow that Heaven will send you sons. 
 The snakes and cobras daughters prophesy. 
 
 These auguries are all auspicious ones. 
 
 " Sons shall be his — on couches lulled to rest. 
 
 The little ones, enrobed, with sceptres play ; 
 Their infant cries are loud as stern behest ; 
 
 Their knees the vermeil covers shall display. 
 As king hereafter one shall be addressed ; 
 
 The rest, our princes, all the States shall sway. 
 
 " And daughters also to him shall be born. 
 
 They shall be placed upon the ground to sleep ; 
 Their playthings tiles, their dress the simplest worn ; 
 
 Their part alike from good and ill to keep, 
 And ne'er their parents' hearts to cause to mourn ; 
 
 To cook the food, and spirit-malt to steep." 
 
 The Condition of King Seuen's Flocks 
 
 Who dares to say your sheep are few? 
 
 The flocks are all three hundred strong. 
 Who dares despise your cattle too? 
 
 There ninety, black-lipped, press along. 
 Though horned the sheep, yet peaceful each appears; 
 The cattle come with moist and flapping ears. 
 
 These climb the heights, those drink the pool; 
 
 Some lie at rest, while others roam. 
 With rain-coats, and thin splint hats cool, 
 
 And bearing food, your herdsmen come. 
 In thirties, ranged by hues, the creatures stand ; 
 Fit victims they will yield at your command. 
 
 Your herdsmen twigs and fagots bring, 
 With prey of birds and beasts for food. 
 
 Your sheep, untouched by evil thing. 
 Approach, their health and vigor good. 
 
 The herdsman's waving hand they all behold, 
 
 And docile come, and pass into the fold. 
 Vol. IV.— 12
 
 178 
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Your herdsmen dream ;— fish take the place 
 
 Of men ; on banners falcons fly, 
 Displacing snakes and tortoises. 
 
 The augur tells his prophecy:— 
 " The first betoken plenteous years ; the change 
 Of banners shows of homes a widening range."
 
 BOOK V 
 
 THE DECADE OF SEAOU MIN 
 
 A Eunuch Complains of His Fate 
 
 A few fine lines, at random drawn, 
 Like the shell-pattern wrought in lawn 
 
 To hasty glance will seem. 
 My trivial faults base slander's slime 
 Distorted into foulest crime, 
 
 And men me worthless deem. 
 
 A few small points, pricked down on wood, 
 May be made out a picture good 
 
 Of the bright Southern Sieve. 
 Who planned, and helped those slanderers vile. 
 My name with base lies to defile? 
 
 Unpitied, here I grieve. 
 
 With babbling tongues you go about, 
 And only scheme hov/ to make out 
 
 The lies you scatter round. 
 Hear rne — Be careful what you say ; 
 People ere long your words will weigh, 
 
 And liars you'll be found. 
 
 Clever you are with changeful schemes! 
 How else could all your evil dreams 
 
 And slanders work their way? 
 Men now believe you ; by and by. 
 The truth found out, each vicious lie 
 
 Will ill for ill repay. 
 
 The proud rejoice ; the sufferer weeps. 
 O azure Heaven, from out thy deeps 
 179
 
 i8o THE SHI-KING 
 
 Why look in silence down? 
 Behold those proud men and rebuke ; 
 With pity on the sufferers look, 
 
 And on the evil frown. 
 
 Those slanderers I would gladly take, 
 With all who help their schemes to make, 
 
 And to the tigers throw. 
 If wolves and tigers such should spare, 
 I'd hurl them 'midst the freezing air, 
 
 Where the keen north winds blow. 
 And should the North compassion feel 
 I'd fling them to great Heaven, to deal 
 
 On them its direst woe. 
 
 As on the sacred heights you dwell, 
 My place is in the willow dell. 
 
 One is the other near. 
 Before you, officers, I spread 
 These lines by me, poor eunuch, made. 
 
 Think not Mang-tsze severe. 
 
 An Officer Deplores the Misery of the Time 
 
 In the fourth month summer shines; 
 In the sixth the heat declines. 
 Nature thus grants men relief; 
 Tyranny gives only grief. 
 Were not my forefathers men? 
 Can my suffering 'scape their ken? 
 
 In the cold of autumn days 
 Each plant shrivels and decays. 
 Nature then is hard and stern ; 
 Living things sad lessons learn. 
 Friends dispersed, all order gone, 
 Place of refuge have I none. 
 
 Winter days are wild and fierce; 
 Rapid gusts each crevice pierce. 
 Such is my unhappy lot, 
 Unbefriended and forgot!
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Others all can happy be; 
 I from misery ne'er am free. 
 
 On the mountains are fine trees; 
 Chestnuts, plum-trees, there one sees. 
 All the year their forms they show ; 
 Stately more and more they grow. 
 Noble turned to ravening thief! 
 What the cause? This stirs my grief. 
 
 Waters from that spring appear 
 Sometimes foul, and sometimes clear, 
 Changing oft as falls the rain. 
 Or the sky grows bright again. 
 New misfortunes every day 
 Still befall me, misery's prey. 
 
 Aid from mighty streams obtained, 
 Southern States are shaped and drained. 
 Thus the Keang and Han are thanked, 
 And as benefactors ranked. 
 Weary toil my vigor drains; 
 All unnoticed it remains! 
 
 Hawks and eagles mount the sky ; 
 Sturgeons in deep waters lie. 
 Out of reach, they safely get, 
 Arrow fear not, nor the net. 
 Hiding-place for me there's none; 
 Here I stay, and make my moan. 
 
 Ferns upon the hills abound ; 
 Ke and e in marshy ground. 
 Each can boast its proper place. 
 Where it grows for use or grace. 
 I can only sing the woe, 
 Which, ill-starred, I undergo.
 
 i82 THE SHI-KING 
 
 On the Alienation of a Friend 
 
 Gently and soft the east wind blows, 
 And then there falls the pelting rain. 
 
 When anxious fears pressed round you close, 
 Then linked together were we twain. 
 
 Now happy, and your mind at rest, 
 
 You turn and cast me from your breast. 
 
 Gently and soft the east wind blows, 
 
 And then there comes the whirlwind wild. 
 
 When anxious fears pressed round you close. 
 Your bosom held me as a child. 
 
 Now happy, and in peaceful state. 
 
 You throw me off and quite forget. 
 
 Gently and soft the east wind blows. 
 Then round the rocky height it storms. 
 
 Each plant its leaves all dying shows ; 
 The trees display their withered forms. 
 
 My virtues great forgotten all, 
 
 You keep in mind my faults, though small.
 
 BOOK VI 
 
 THE DECADE OF PIH SHAN 
 
 A Picture of Husbandry 
 
 Various the toils which fields so large demand ! 
 
 We choose the seed ; we take our tools in hand. 
 
 In winter for our work we thus prepare ; 
 
 Then in the spring, bearing the sharpened 'share, 
 
 We to the acres go that south incline, 
 
 And to the earth the different seeds consign. 
 
 Soon, straight and large, upward each plant aspires ;- 
 
 All happens as our noble lord desires. 
 
 The plants will ear; within their sheath confined, 
 The grains will harden, and be good in kind. 
 Nor darnel these, nor wolf's-tail grass infests ; 
 From core and leaf we pick the insect pests. 
 And pick we those that eat the joints and roots : — 
 So do we guard from harm the growing fruits. 
 May the great Spirit, whom each farmer names, 
 Those insects take, and cast them to the flames ! 
 
 The clouds o'erspread the sky in masses dense, 
 And gentle rain down to the earth dispense. 
 First may the public fields the blessing get. 
 And then with it our private fields we wet! 
 Patches of unripe grain the reaper leaves; 
 And here and there ungathered are the sheaves. 
 Handfuls besides we drop upon the ground, 
 And ears untouched in numbers lie around ; — 
 These by the poor and widows shall be found. 
 
 183
 
 i84 THE SHI-KING 
 
 When wives and children to the toilers come, 
 Bringing provisions from each separate home, 
 Our lord of long descent shall oft appear; 
 The Inspector also, glad the men to cheer. 
 They too shall thank the Spirits of the air. 
 With sacrifices pure for all their care; 
 Now red, now black, the victims that they slay, 
 As North or South the sacrifice they pay ; 
 While millet bright the altars always show ; — 
 And we shall thus still greater blessings know. 
 
 The Complaint of an Officer 
 
 O Heaven above, before whose light 
 Revealed is every deed and thought, 
 
 To thee I cry. 
 Hither on toilsome service brought, 
 In this wild K'ew I watch time's flight. 
 
 And sadly sigh. 
 The second month had just begun. 
 When from the east we took our way. 
 
 Through summer hot 
 We passed, and many a wintry day. 
 Summer again its course has run. 
 
 O bitter lot ! 
 There are my compeers, gay at court. 
 While here the tears my face begrime. 
 
 I'd fain return — 
 But there is that dread net for crime ! 
 The fear of it the wish cuts short. 
 
 In vain I burn ! 
 
 Ere we the royal city left. 
 
 The sun and moon renewed the year. 
 
 W^e marched in hope. 
 Now to its close this year is near. 
 Return deferred, of hope bereft. 
 
 All mourn and mope. 
 My lonesome state haunts aye my breast. 
 While duties grow, and cares increase. 
 
 Too hard to bear.
 
 THE SHI-KING 185 
 
 Toils that oppress me never cease; 
 Not for a moment dare I rest, 
 
 Nigh to despair. 
 I think with fond regard of those, 
 Who in their posts at court remain, 
 
 My friends of old. 
 Fain would I be with them again, 
 But fierce reproof return would cause. 
 
 This post I hold. 
 
 When for the West I left my home, 
 The sun and moon both mildly shone, 
 
 Our hearts to cheer. 
 We'd soon be back, our service done! 
 Alas ! afTairs more urgent come. 
 
 And fix us here. 
 The year is hastening to expire. 
 We gather now the southern-wood, 
 
 The beans we reap ; — 
 That for its fragrance, these for food. 
 Such things that constant care require 
 
 Me anxious keep. 
 Thinking of friends still at their posts, 
 I rise and pass the night outside, 
 
 So vexed my mind. 
 But soon what changes may betide? 
 I here will stay, whate'er it costs. 
 
 And be resigned. 
 
 My honored friends, O do not deem 
 Your rest which seems secure from ill 
 
 Will ever last ! 
 Your duties quietly fulfil, 
 And hold the upright in esteem, 
 
 With friendship fast. 
 So shall the Spirits hear your cry, 
 You virtuous make, and good supply. 
 
 In measure vast. 
 
 My honored friends, O do not deem 
 Repose that seems secure from ill 
 Will lasting prove.
 
 iS6 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Your duties quietly fulfil, 
 
 And hold the upright in esteem, 
 
 With earnest love. 
 So shall the Spirits hear your prayer, 
 And on you happiness confer, 
 
 Your hopes above.
 
 BOOK VII 
 DECADE OF SANG HOO 
 
 The Rejoicings of a Bridegroom 
 
 With axle creaking, all on fire I went, 
 To fetch my young and lovely bride. 
 
 No thirst or hunger pangs my bosom rent — 
 I only longed to have her by my side. 
 
 I feast with her, whose virtue fame had told. 
 
 Nor need we friends our rapture to behold. 
 
 The long-tailed pheasants surest covert find, 
 
 Amid the forest on the plain. 
 Here from my virtuous bride, of noble mind, 
 
 And person tall, I wisdom gain. 
 I praise her while we feast, and to her say, 
 " The love I bear you ne'er will know decay. 
 
 " Poor we may be ; spirits and viands fine 
 
 My humble means will not afiford. 
 But what we have, we'll taste and not repine; 
 
 From us will come no grumbling word. 
 And though to you no virtue I can add. 
 Yet we will sing and dance, in spirit glad. 
 
 " I oft ascend that lofty ridge with toil, 
 And hew large branches from the oaks; 
 
 Then of their leafy glory them I spoil, 
 And fagots form with vigorous strokes. 
 
 Returning tired, your matchless grace I see. 
 
 And my whole soul dissolves in ecstasy. 
 
 " To the high hills I looked, and urged each steed ; 
 The great road next was smooth and plain. 
 187
 
 i88 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Up hill, o'er dale, I never slackened speed; 
 
 Like lute-string sounded every rein. 
 I knew, my journey ended, I should come 
 To you, sweet bride, the comfort of my home. 
 
 Against Listening to Slanderers 
 
 Like the blueflies buzzing round, 
 And on the fences lighting, 
 
 Are the sons of slander found, 
 Who never cease their biting, 
 
 O thou happy, courteous king, 
 
 To the winds their slanders fling. 
 
 Buzzing round the blueflies hear, 
 About the jujubes flocking! 
 
 So the slanderers appear. 
 
 Whose calumnies are shocking. 
 
 By no law or order bound, 
 
 All the kingdom they confound. 
 
 How they buzz, those odious flies, 
 Upon the hazels clust'ring! 
 
 And as odious are the lies 
 Of those slanderers blust'ring. 
 
 Hatred stirred between us two 
 
 Shows the evil they can do.
 
 BOOK VIH 
 THE DECADE OF TOO JIN SZE 
 
 In Praise of By-gone Simplicity 
 
 In the old capital they stood, 
 
 With yellow fox-furs plain, 
 Their manners all correct and good, 
 
 Speech free from vulgar stain. 
 Could we go back to Chow's old days. 
 All would look up to them with praise. 
 
 In the old capital they wore 
 T'ae hats and black caps small ; 
 
 And ladies, who famed surnames bore^ 
 Their own thick hair let fall. 
 
 Such simple ways are seen no more, 
 
 And the changed manners I deplore. 
 
 Ear-rings, made of plainest gold, 
 
 In the old days were worn. 
 Each lady of a noble line 
 
 A Yin or Keih seemed born. 
 Such officers and ladies now 
 I see not and my sorrows grow. 
 
 With graceful sweep their girdles fell, 
 
 Then in the days of old. 
 The ladies' side-hair, with a swell, 
 
 Like scorpion's tail, rose bold. 
 Such, if I saw them in these days, 
 I'd follow with admiring gaze. 
 189
 
 190 THE SHI-KING 
 
 So hung their girdles, not for show ; — 
 
 To their own length 'twas due. 
 'Twas not by art their hair curled so ; — 
 
 By nature so it grew. 
 I seek such manners now in vain. 
 And pine for them with longing pain. 
 
 [Note. — Yin and Keih were clan names of great families, the ladies 
 of which would be leaders of fashion in the capital.] 
 
 A Wife Bemoans Her Husband's Absence 
 
 So full am I of anxious thought, 
 
 Though all the morn king-grass I've sought, 
 
 To fill my arms I fail. 
 Like wisp all-tangled is my hair ! 
 To wash it let me home repair. 
 
 My lord soon may I hail ! 
 
 Though 'mong the indigo I've wrought 
 The morning long ; through anxious thought. 
 
 My skirt's filled but in part. 
 Within five days he was to appear ; 
 The sixth has come and he's not here. 
 
 Oh ! how this racks my heart ! 
 
 When here we dwelt in union sweet, 
 If the hunt called his eager feet, 
 
 His bow I cased for him. 
 Or if to fish he went away, 
 And would be absent all the day. 
 
 His line I put in trim. 
 
 What in his angling did he catch? 
 Well worth the time it was to watch 
 
 How bream and tench he took. 
 Men thronged upon the banks and gazed ; 
 At bream and tench they looked amazed. 
 
 The triumphs of his hook.
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 191 
 
 The Earl of Shaou's Work 
 
 As the young millet, by the genial rain 
 
 Enriched, shoots up luxuriant and tall, 
 So, when we southward marched with toil and pain. 
 
 The Earl of Shaou cheered and inspired us all. 
 
 We pushed our barrows, and our burdens bore ; 
 
 We drove our wagons, and our oxen led. 
 " The work once done, our labor there is o'er, 
 
 And home we travel," to ourselves we said. 
 
 Close kept our footmen round the chariot track ; 
 
 Our eager host in close battalions sped. 
 " When once our work is done, then we go back. 
 
 Our labor over," to themselves they said. 
 
 Hard was the work we had at Seay to do, 
 But Shaou's great earl the city soon upreared. 
 
 The host its service gave with ardor true ; — 
 
 Such power in all the earl's commands appeared ! 
 
 We did on plains and low lands what was meet ; 
 
 We cleared the springs and streams, the land to drain. 
 The Earl of Shaou announced his work complete, 
 
 And the King's heart reposed, at rest again. 
 
 The Plaint of King Yew's Forsaken Wife 
 
 The fibres of the white-flowered rush 
 
 Are with the white grass bound. 
 So do the two together go. 
 
 In closest union found. 
 And thus should man and wife abide. 
 
 The twain combined in one ; 
 But this bad man sends me away. 
 
 And bids me dwell alone. 
 
 Both rush and grass from the bright clouds 
 The genial dew partake.
 
 192 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Kind and impartial, nature's laws 
 No odious difference make. 
 
 But providence appears unkind ; 
 Events are often hard. 
 
 This man, to principle untrue. 
 Denies me his regard. 
 
 Northward the pools their waters send, 
 
 To flood each paddy field ; 
 So get the fields the sap they need, 
 
 Their store of rice to yield. 
 But that great man no deed of grace 
 
 Deigns to bestow on me. 
 My songs are sighs. At thought of him 
 
 My heart aches wearily. 
 
 The mulberry branches they collect. 
 
 And use their food to cook ; 
 But I must use a furnace small, 
 
 That pot nor pan will brook. 
 So me that great man badly treats, 
 
 Nor uses as his wife, 
 Degrades me from my proper place, 
 
 And fills with grief my life. 
 
 The bells and drums inside the court 
 
 Men stand without and hear; 
 So should the feelings in my breast. 
 
 To him distinct appear. 
 All-sorrowful, I think of him, 
 
 Longing to move his love ; 
 But he vouchsafes no kind response ; 
 
 His thoughts far from me rove. 
 
 The marabow stands on the dam. 
 
 And to repletion feeds ; 
 The crane deep in the forest cries. 
 
 Nor finds the food it needs. 
 So in my room the concubine 
 
 By the great man is placed ; 
 While I with cruel banishment 
 
 Am cast out and disgraced.
 
 THE SHI-KING 193 
 
 The yellow ducks sit on the dam, 
 
 With left wing gathered low ; 
 So on each other do they lean, 
 
 And their attachment show. 
 And love should thus the man and wife 
 
 In closest concord bind ; 
 But that man turns away from me, 
 
 And shows a fickle mind. 
 
 When one stands on a slab of stone. 
 
 No higher than the ground, 
 Nothing is added to his height ; — 
 
 Low with the stone he's found- 
 So does the favorite's mean estate 
 
 Render that great man mean. 
 While I by him, to distance sent. 
 
 Am pierced with sorrow keen. 
 
 Hospitality 
 
 A few gourd leaves that waved about 
 
 Cut down and boiled ; — the feast how spare ! 
 
 But the good host his spirits takes, 
 Pours out a cup, and proves them rare. 
 
 A single rabbit on the mat, 
 
 Or baked, or roast : — how small the feast ! 
 But the good host his spirits takes. 
 
 And fills the cup of every guest. 
 
 A single rabbit on the mat, 
 
 Roasted or broiled : — how poor the meal ! 
 But the guests from the spirit vase 
 
 Fill their host's cup, and drink his weal. 
 
 A single rabbit on the mat, 
 
 Roasted or baked : — no feast we think ! 
 But from the spirit vase they take. 
 
 Both host and guests, and joyous drink. 
 Vol. IV.— 13
 
 194 
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 On the Misery of Soldiers 
 
 Yellow now is all the grass ; 
 All the days in marching pass. 
 On the move is every man ; 
 Hard work, far and near, they plan. 
 
 Black is every plant become ; 
 Every man is torn from home. 
 Kept on foot, our state is sad ; — 
 As if we no feelings had ! 
 
 Not rhinoceroses we ! 
 Tigers do we care to be? 
 Fields like these so desolate 
 Are to us a hateful fate. 
 
 Long-tailed foxes pleased may hide 
 'Mong the grass, where they abide. 
 We, in box carts slowly borne, 
 On the great roads plod and mourn.
 
 PART III.— GREATER ODES OF THE KINGDOM 
 
 BOOK I 
 DECADE OF KING WAN 
 
 Celebrating King Wan 
 
 The royal Wan now rests on high, 
 Enshrined in brightness of the sky. 
 Chow as a state had long been known, 
 And Heaven's decree at last was shown. 
 Its lords had borne a glorious name ; 
 God kinged them when the season came. 
 King Wan ruled well when earth he trod ; 
 Now moves his spirit near to God. 
 
 A strong-willed, earnest king was Wan, 
 And still his fame rolls widening on. 
 The gifts that God bestowed on Chow 
 Belong to Wan's descendants now. 
 Heaven blesses still with gifts divine 
 The hundred scions of his line ; 
 And all the officers of Chow 
 From age to age more lustrous grow. 
 
 More lustrous still from age to age. 
 All reverent plans their zeal engage ; 
 And brilliant statesmen owe their birth 
 To this much-favored spot of earth. 
 They spring like products of the land — 
 The men by whom the realm doth stand. 
 Such aid their numerous bands supply. 
 That Wan rests tranquilly on high. 
 195
 
 196 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Deep were Wan's thoughts, sustained his ways ; 
 His reverence Ht its trembhng rays. 
 Resistless came great Heaven's decree ; 
 The sons of Shang must bend the knee ; — 
 The sons of Shang, each one a king, 
 In numbers beyond numbering. 
 Yet as God spoke, so must it be : — 
 The sons of Shang all bent the knee. 
 
 Now each to Chow his homage pays — 
 So dark and changing are Heaven's ways. 
 When we pour our libations here, 
 The offtcers of Shang appear, 
 Quick and alert to give their aid : — 
 Such is the service by them paid. 
 While still they do not cast aside 
 The cap and broidered axe — their pride. 
 Ye servants of our line of kings, 
 Remember him from whom it springs. 
 
 Remember him from whom it springs ; — 
 
 Let this give to your virtue wings. 
 
 Seek harmony with Heaven's great mind ; — 
 
 So shall you surest blessing find. 
 
 Ere Shang had lost the nation's heart, 
 
 Its monarchs all with God had part 
 
 In sacrifice. From them you see 
 
 'Tis hard to keep high Heaven's decree. 
 
 'Tis hard to keep high Heaven's decree ! 
 O sin not, or you cease to be. 
 To add true lustre to your name, 
 See Shang expire in Heaven's dread flame. 
 For Heaven's high dealings are profound, 
 And far transcend all sense and sound. 
 From Wan your pattern you must draw, 
 And all the States will own your law.
 
 BOOK III* 
 
 DECADE OF TANG 
 
 King Seuen on the Occasion of a Great Drought 
 
 Grand shone the Milky Way on high, 
 With brilliant span athwart the sky, 
 
 Nor promise gave of rain. 
 King Seuen long gazed; then from him broke, 
 In anguished tones the words he spoke. 
 
 Well might he thus complain ! 
 ' O Heaven, what crimes have we to own, 
 That death and ruin still come down? 
 Relentless famine fills our graves. 
 Pity the king who humbly craves ! 
 
 Our miseries never cease. 
 To every Spirit I have vowed ; 
 The choicest victim's blood has flowed. 
 As offerings I have freely paid 
 My store of gems and purest jade. 
 
 Hear me, and give release ! 
 
 * The drought consumes us. As on wing 
 Its fervors fly, and torment bring. 
 With purest mind and ceaseless care 
 My sacrifices I prepare. 
 At thine own border altars. Heaven, 
 And in my father's fane, I've given 
 
 What might relief have found. 
 What Powers above, below, have sway, 
 To all my precious gifts I pay. 
 
 Then bury in the ground. 
 Yes, every Spirit has received 
 Due honor, and, still unrelieved, 
 
 ♦[Selections from Book II. are omitted.— Editor.1 
 197
 
 198 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Our sufferings greater grow. 
 How-tseih can't give the needed aid, 
 And help from God is still delayed! 
 The country lies a ruined waste. 
 
 would that I alone might taste 
 This bitter cup of woe ! 
 
 " The drought consumes us. Nor do I 
 To fix the blame on others try. 
 
 1 quake with dread ; the risk I feel, 
 As when I hear the thunders peal, 
 
 Or fear its sudden crash. 
 Our black-haired race, a remnant now, 
 Will every one be swept from Chow, 
 
 As by the lightning's flash. 
 Nor I myself will live alone. 
 God from his great and heavenly throne 
 
 Will not spare even me. 
 O friends and officers, come, blend 
 Your prayers with mine ; come, lowly bend. 
 Chow's dynasty will pass away ; 
 Its altars at no distant day 
 
 In ruins all shall be ! 
 
 " The drought consumes us. It keeps on 
 Its fatal course. All hope is gone. 
 The air more fierce and fiery glows. 
 Where can I fly? Where seek repose? 
 
 Death marks me for its prey. 
 Above, no saving hand ! Around, 
 No hope, no comfort, can be found. 
 The dukes and ministers of old 
 Give us no help. Can ye withhold 
 Your sympathy, who lately reigned? 
 And parents, how are you restrained, 
 
 In this so dreadful day? 
 
 " The drought consumes us. There on high 
 The hills are parched. The streams are dry. 
 Drought's demon stalks abroad in ire. 
 And scatters wide his flames and fire.
 
 THE SHI-KING 
 
 Alas, my woful heart! 
 The fires within its strength consume ; 
 The heat without creates a gloom 
 
 That from it will not part. 
 The dukes and ministers by-gone 
 Respond not to my prayer and moan. 
 God in great Heaven, permission give 
 That I may in retirement live. 
 
 And try to heal my smart! 
 
 ' The drought consumes us. Still I strive, 
 And will not leave while I survive. 
 
 Duty to shun I fear. 
 Why upon me has come this drought? 
 Vainly I try to search it out. 
 
 Vainly, with quest severe. 
 For a good harvest soon I prayed, 
 Nor late the rites I duly paid, 
 To Spirits of the air and land. 
 There wanted nought they could demand, 
 
 Their favor to secure. 
 God in great heaven, be just, be kind ! 
 Thou dost not bear me in Thy mind. 
 My cry, ye wisest Spirits, hear! 
 Ye whom I constantly revere. 
 
 Why do I this endure ? 
 
 The drought consumes us. People fly. 
 And leave their homes. Each social tie 
 
 And bond of rule is snapt. 
 The Heads of Boards are all perplexed; 
 My premier's mind is sorely vexed ; 
 
 In trouble all are wrapt. 
 The Masters of my Horse and Guards ; 
 My cook, and men of diflFerent wards : — 
 Not one has from the struggle shrunk. 
 Though feeling weak, they have not sunk, 
 
 But done their best to aid. 
 To the great sky I look with pain ; — 
 Why do these grievous sorrows rain 
 
 On my devoted head? 
 
 199
 
 200 THE SHI-KING 
 
 " Yes, at the mighty sky I gaze, 
 And lo ! the stars pursue their maze, 
 
 And sparkle clear and bright. 
 Ah ! Heaven nor helps, nor seems to ken. 
 Great officers and noble men, 
 With all your powers ye well have striven, 
 And reverently have sought from Heaven 
 
 Its aid in our great fight. 
 My death is near ; but oh ! keep on, 
 And do as thus far you have done. 
 
 Regard you only me? 
 No, for yourselves and all your friends. 
 On whom for rule the land depends, 
 
 You seek security. 
 I turn my gaze to the great sky ; — 
 When shall this drought be done, and I 
 
 Quiet and restful be? "
 
 PART IV.— ODES OF THE TEMPLE AND ALTAR 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 SACRIFICIAL ODES OF CHOW 
 
 Appropriate to a Sacrifice to King Wan 
 
 My offerings here are given, 
 
 A ram, a bull. 
 Accept them, mighty Heaven, 
 
 All-bountiful. 
 
 Thy statutes, O great king, 
 
 I keep, I love; 
 So on the realm to bring 
 
 Peace from above. 
 
 From Wan comes blessing rich ; 
 
 Now on the right 
 He owns those gifts to which 
 
 Him I invite. 
 
 Do I not night and day, 
 
 Revere great Heaven, 
 That thus its favor may 
 
 To Chow be given ? 
 
 201
 
 Z02 THE SHI-KING 
 
 On Sacrificing to the Kings Woo, Ching, and K*ang 
 
 The arm of Woo was full of might ; 
 
 None could his fire withstand ; 
 And Ching and K'ang stood forth to sight, 
 
 As kinged by God's own hand. 
 
 We err not when we call them sage. 
 
 How grandly they maintained 
 Their hold of all the heritage 
 
 That Wan and Woo had gained! 
 
 As here we worship, they descend, 
 
 While bells and drums resound, 
 And stones and lutes their music blend. 
 
 With blessings we are crowned. 
 
 The rites correctly we discharge ; 
 
 The feast we freely share. 
 Those Sires Chow's glory will enlarge, 
 
 And ever for it care.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 [Translation by James Legge'\
 
 TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION 
 
 NOTHING of great importance is known about Fa-hien 
 in addition to what may be gathered from his own 
 record of his travels. I have read the accounts of him 
 in the " Memoirs of Eminent Monks," compiled in a.d. 519, 
 and a later work, the " Memoirs of Marvellous Monks," by the 
 third emperor of the Ming dynasty (a.d. 1403-1424), which, 
 however, is nearly all borrowed from the other ; and all in them 
 that has an appearance of verisimilitude can be brought within 
 brief compass. 
 
 His surname, they tell us, was Kung, and he was a native of 
 Wti-yang in P'ing-yang, which is still the name of a large de- 
 partment in Shan-hsi. He had three brothers older than him- 
 self; but when they all died before shedding their first teeth, 
 his father devoted him to the service of the Buddhist society, 
 and had him entered as a Sramanera, still keeping him at home 
 in the family. The little fellow fell dangerously ill, and the 
 father sent him to the monastery, where he soon got well and 
 refused to return to his parents. 
 
 When he was ten years old, his father died ; and an uncle, 
 considering the widowed solitariness and helplessness of the 
 mother, urged him to renounce the monastic life, and return 
 to her, but the boy replied, " I did not quit the family in com- 
 pliance with my father's wishes, but because I wished to be far 
 from the dust and vulgar ways of life. This is why I choose 
 monkhood." The uncle approved of his words and gave over 
 urging him. When his mother also died, it appeared how 
 great had been the affection for her of his fine nature ; but after 
 her burial he returned to the monastery. 
 
 On one occasion he was cutting rice with a score or two of 
 his fellow-disciples, when some hungry thieves came upon 
 them to take away their grain by force. The other Sramaneras 
 all fled, but our young hero stood his ground, and said to the 
 
 205
 
 2o6 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 thieves, " If you must have the grain, take what you please. 
 But, sirs, it was your former neglect of charity which brought 
 you to your present state of destitution ; and now, again, you 
 wish to rob others. I am afraid that in the coming ages you 
 will have still greater poverty and distress ; I am sorry for you 
 beforehand." With these words he followed his companions 
 to the monastery, while the thieves left the grain and went 
 away, all the monks, of whom there were several hundred, do- 
 ing homage to his conduct and courage. 
 
 When he had finished his novitiate and taken on him the 
 obligations of the full Buddhist orders, his earnest courage, 
 clear intelligence, and strict regulation of his demeanor, were 
 conspicuous ; and soon after, he undertook his journey to 
 India in search of complete copies of the Vinaya-pitaka. 
 What follows this is merely an account of his travels in India 
 and return to China by sea, condensed from his own narrative, 
 with the addition of some marvellous incidents that happened 
 to him, on his visit to the Vulture Peak near Rajagriha. 
 
 It is said in the end that after his return to China, he went 
 to the capital (evidently Nanking), and there, along with the 
 Indian Sramana Buddha-bhadra, executed translations of some 
 of the works which he had obtained in India ; and that before 
 he had done all that he wished to do in this way, he removed 
 to King-chow (in the present Hoo-pih), and died in the mon- 
 astery of Sin, at the age of eighty-eight, to the great sorrow 
 of all who knew him. It is added that there is another larger 
 work giving an account of his travels in various countries. 
 
 Such is all the information given about our author, beyond 
 what he has himself told us. Fa-hien was his clerical name, 
 and means " Illustrious in the Law," or " Illustrious master of 
 the Law." The Shih which often precedes it is an abbrevia- 
 tion of the name of Buddha as Sakyamuni, " the Sakya, mighty 
 in Love, dwelling in Seclusion and Silence," and may be taken 
 as equivalent to Buddhist. He is sometimes said to have be- 
 longed to "the eastern Tsin dynasty" (a.d. 317-419), and 
 sometimes to " the Sung," that is, the Sung dynasty of the 
 House of Liii (a.d. 420-478). If he became a full monk at the 
 age of twenty, and went to India when he was twenty-five, his 
 long life may have been divided pretty equally between the 
 two dynasties. 
 
 If there were ever another and larger account of Fa-hien'**
 
 TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION 
 
 207 
 
 travels than the narrative of which a translation is now given, 
 it has long ceased to be in existence. 
 
 In the catalogue of the imperial library of the Suy dynasty 
 (a.d. 589-618), the name Fa-hien occurs four times. Towards 
 the end of the last section of it, after a reference to his travels, 
 his labors in translation at Kin-ling (another name for Nan- 
 king), in conjunction with Buddha-bhadra, are described. In 
 the second section we find " A Record of Buddhistic King- 
 doms " — with a note, saying that it was the work of " the 
 Sramana, Fa-hien " ; and again, we have " Narrative of Fa- 
 hien in two Books," and " Narrative of Fa-hien's Travels in 
 one Book." But all these three entries may possibly belong 
 to different copies of the same work, the first and the other 
 two being in separate subdivisions of the catalogue. 
 
 In the two Chinese copies of the narrative in my possession 
 the title is " Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms." In the Japan- 
 ese or Corean recension the title is twofold ; first, " Narrative 
 of the Distinguished Monk, Fa-hien " ; and then, more at 
 large, " Incidents of Travels in India, by the Sramana of the 
 Eastern Tsin, Fa-hien, recorded by himself." 
 
 There is still earlier attestation of the existence of our little 
 work than the Suy catalogue. The " Catalogue Raisonne " of 
 the imperial library of the present dynasty mentions two quota- 
 tions from it by Le Tao-yiien, a geographical writer of the 
 dynasty of the Northern Wei (a.d. 386-584), one of them con- 
 taining eighty-nine characters, and the other two hundred and 
 seventy-six ; both of them given as from the " Narrative of 
 Fa-hien." 
 
 In all catalogues subsequent to that of Suy our work ap- 
 pears. The evidence for its authenticity and genuineness is all 
 that could be required. It is clear to myself that the " Record 
 of Buddhistic Kingdoms " and the " Narrative of his Travels 
 by Fa-hien " were designations of one and the same work, and 
 that it is doubtful whether any larger work on the same sub- 
 ject was ever current. With regard to the text subjoined to 
 my translation, it was published in Japan in 1779. The editor 
 had before him four recensions of the narrative ; those of the 
 Sung and Ming dynasties, with appendices on the names of 
 certain characters in them ; that of Japan ; and that of Corea. 
 He wisely adopted the Corean text, published in accordance 
 with a royal rescript in 1726, so far as I can make out ; but the
 
 2o8 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 different readings of the other texts are all given in top-notes, 
 instead of foot-notes as with us, this being one of the points 
 in which customs in the East and West go by contraries. Very 
 occasionally, the editor indicates by a single character, equiva- 
 lent to " right " or " wrong," which reading in his opinion is 
 to be preferred. 
 
 The editors of the " Catalogue Raisonne " intimate their 
 doubts of the good taste and reliability of all Fa-hien's state- 
 ments. It offends them that he should call central India the 
 " Middle Kingdom," and China, which to them was the true 
 and only Middle Kingdom, but " a Border-land " — it offends 
 them as the vaunting language of a Buddhist writer, whereas 
 the reader will see in the expressions only an instance of what 
 Fa-hien calls his " simple straightforwardness." 
 
 As an instance of his unreliability they refer to his account 
 of the Buddhism of Khoten, whereas it is well-known, they say, 
 that the Khoteners from ancient times till now have been Mo- 
 hammedans ; — as if they could have been so one hundred and 
 seventy years before Mohammed was born, and two hundred 
 twenty-two years before the year of the Hegira! And 
 this is criticism in China. The catalogue was ordered by the 
 K'ien-lung emperor in 1722. Between three and four hun- 
 dred of the " Great Scholars " of the empire were engaged on 
 It in various departments, and thus egregiously ignorant did 
 they show themselves of all beyond the limits of their own 
 country, and even of the literature of that country itself. 
 
 Much of what Fa-hien tells his readers of Buddhist miracles 
 and legends is indeed unreliable and grotesque ; but we have 
 from him the truth as to what he saw and heard. 
 
 In concluding this introduction I wish to call attention to 
 some estimates of the number of Buddhists in the world which 
 have become current, believing, as I do, that the smallest of 
 them is much above what is correct. 
 
 In a note on the first page of his work on the Bhilsa Topes 
 (1854), General Cunningham says: "The Christians number 
 about two hundred and seventy millions ; the Buddhists about 
 two hundred and twenty-two millions, who are distributed as 
 follows : China one hundred and seventy millions, Japan twen- 
 ty-five millions, Anam fourteen millions, Siam three mil- 
 lions, Ava eight millions, Nepal one million, and Ceylon one 
 million."
 
 TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION 
 
 209 
 
 In his article on M. J. Barthelemy Saint -Hilaire's " Le 
 Bouddha et sa Religion," republished in his " Chips from a 
 German workshop," vol. i. (1868), Professor Max Miiller says, 
 " The young prince became the founder of a religion which, 
 after more than two thousand years, is still professed by four 
 hundred and fifty-five millions of human beings," and he ap- 
 pends the following note : " Though truth is not settled by 
 majorities, it would be interesting to know which religion 
 counts at the present moment the largest numbers of believers. 
 Berghaus, in his ' Physical Atlas,' gives the following division 
 of the human race according to religion: ' Buddhists 31.2 per 
 cent.. Christians 30.7, Mohammedans 15.7, Brahmanists 13.4, 
 Heathens 8.7, and Jews 0.3.' As Berghaus does not distin- 
 guish the Buddhists in China from the followers of Confucius 
 and Laotse, the first place on the scale belongs really to Chris- 
 tianity. It is difficult in China to say to what religion a man 
 belongs, as the same person may profess two or three. The 
 emperor himself, after sacrificing according to the ritual of 
 Confucius, visits a Tao-tse temple, and afterwards bows before 
 an image of Fo in a Buddhist chapel." (" Melanges Asiat- 
 iques de St. Petersbourg," vol. ii. p. 374.) 
 
 Both these estimates are exceeded by Dr. T. W. Rhys 
 Davids (intimating also the uncertainty of the statements, and 
 that numbers are no evidence of truth) in the introduction to 
 his " Manual of Buddhism." The Buddhists there appear as 
 amounting in all to five hundred millions : — thirty millions of 
 Southern Buddhists, in Ceylon, Burma, Siam, Anam, and 
 India (Jains) ; and four hundred and seventy millions of North- 
 ern Buddhists, of whom nearly thirty-three millions are as- 
 signed to Japan, and 414,686,974 to the eighteen provinces of 
 China proper. According to him, Christians amount to about 
 26 per cent, of mankind, Hindus to about 13, Mohammedans 
 to about I2|, Buddhists to about 40, and Jews to about one- 
 half of one per cent. 
 
 In regard to all these estimates, it will be observed that the 
 immense numbers assigned to Buddhism are made out by the 
 multitude of Chinese with which it is credited. Subtract Cun- 
 ningham's one hundred and seventy millions of Chinese from 
 his total of two hundred and twenty-two millions, and there re- 
 main only fifty-two millions of Buddhists. Subtract Davids's 
 four hundred fourteen and one-half millions of Chinese from 
 Vol. IV.— 14
 
 2IO THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 his total of five hundred milHons, and there remain only 
 eighty-five and one-half millions for Buddhism. Of the num- 
 bers assigned to other countries, as well as of their whole pop- 
 ulations, I am in considerable doubt, excepting in the cases of 
 Ceylon and India ; but the greatness of the estimates turns 
 upon the immense multitudes said to be in China. I do not 
 know what total population Cunningham allowed for that 
 country, nor on what principle he allotted one hundred and 
 seventy millions of it to Buddhism ; perhaps he halved his es- 
 timate of the whole, whereas Berghaus and Davids allotted to 
 it the highest estimates that have been given of the people. 
 
 But we have no certain information of the population of 
 China. At an interview with the former Chinese ambassador, 
 Kwo Sung-tao, in Paris, in 1878, I begged him to write out for 
 me the amount, with the authority for it, and he assured me 
 that it could not be done. I have read probably almost every- 
 thing that has been published on the subject, and endeavored 
 by methods of my own to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion ; — 
 without reaching a result which I can venture to lay before 
 the public. My impression has been that four hundred mil- 
 lions is hardly an exaggeration. 
 
 But supposing that we had reliable returns of the whole pop- 
 ulation, how shall we proceed to apportion that among Con- 
 fucianists, Taoists, and Buddhists? Confucianism is the or- 
 thodoxy of China. The common name for it is Ju Chiao, 
 " the Doctrines held by the Learned Class," entrance into the 
 circle of which is, with a few insignificant exceptions, open to 
 all the people. The mass of them and the masses under their 
 influence are preponderatingly Confucian ; and in the observ- 
 ance of ancestral worship, the most remarkable feature of the 
 religion proper of China from the earliest times, of which Con- 
 fucius was not the author but the prophet, an overwhelming 
 majority are regular and assiduous. 
 
 Among " the strange principles " which the emperor of the 
 K'ang-hsi period, in one of his famous Sixteen Precepts, ex- 
 horted his people to " discountenance and put away, in order 
 to exalt the correct doctrine," Buddhism and Taoism were 
 both included. If, as stated in the note quoted from Professor 
 Miiller, the emperor countenances both the Taoist worship 
 and the Buddhist, he does so for reasons of state ; to please 
 especially his Buddhistic subjects in Thibet and Mongolia, and
 
 TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION 211 
 
 not to offend the many whose superstitious fancies incline to 
 Taoism. 
 
 When 1 went out and in as a missionary among the Chinese 
 people for about thirty years, it sometimes occurred to me that 
 only the inmates of their monasteries and the recluses of both 
 systems should be enumerated as Buddhists and Taoists ; but 
 I was in the end constrained to widen that judgment, and to 
 admit a considerable following of both among the people, who 
 have neither received the tonsure nor assumed the yellow top. 
 Dr. Eitel, in concluding his discussion of this point in his 
 " Lecture on Buddhism, an Event in History," says : " It is 
 not too much to say that most Chinese are theoretically Con- 
 fucianists, but emotionally Buddhists or Taoists. But fairness 
 requires us to add that, though the mass of the people are 
 more or less influenced by Buddhist doctrines, yet the people, 
 as a whole, have no respect for the Buddhist church, and habit- 
 ually sneer at Buddhist priests." For the " most " in the 
 former of these two sentences I would substitute " nearly all ; " 
 and between my friend's " but " and " emotionally " I would 
 introduce " many are," and would not care to contest his con- 
 clusion further. It does seem to me preposterous to credit 
 Buddhism with the whole of the vast population of China, the 
 great majority of whom are Confucianists. My own opinion 
 is that its adherents are not so many as those even of Moham- 
 medanism, and that instead of being the most numerous of the 
 religions (so-called) of the world, it is only entitled to occupy 
 the fifth place, ranking below Christianity, Confucianism, 
 Brahmanism, and Mohammedanism, and followed, some dis- 
 tance off, by Taoism. To make a table of percentages of man- 
 kind, and to assign to each system its proportion, are to seem 
 to be wise where we are deplorably ignorant ; and, moreover, if 
 our means of information were much better than they are, our 
 figures would merely show the outward adherence. A frac- 
 tional percentage might tell more for one system than a very 
 large integral one for another. 
 
 James Legge.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 From Cli<ang-gan to the Sandy Desert 
 
 FA-HIEN had been living in Ch'ang-gan.^ Deploring 
 the mutilated and imperfect state of the collection of 
 the Books of Discipline, in the second year of the 
 period Hwang-che, being the Ke-hae year of the cycle,^ he 
 entered into an engagement with Hwuy-king, Tao-ching, 
 Hwuy-ying, and Hwuy-wei, that they should go to India and 
 seek for the Disciplinary Rules. 
 
 After starting from Ch'ang-gan, they passed through Lung,^ 
 and came to the kingdom of K'een-kwei,* where they stopped 
 for the summer retreat. When that was over, they went for- 
 ward to the kingdom of Now-t'an, crossed the mountain of 
 Yang-low, and reached the emporium of Chang-yih.^ There 
 they found the country so much disturbed that travelling on 
 the roads was impossible for them. Its king, however, was 
 very attentive to them, kept them in his capital, and acted the 
 part of their danapati.® 
 
 \ Ch'ang-gan is still the name of the third year of the period Lung-gan of the 
 principal district (and its city) in the Eastern Ts'in, which was a.d. 399. 
 department of Se-gan, Shen-se. It had ^ Lung embraced the western part of 
 been the capital of the first empire of Shen-se and the eastern part of Kan- 
 Han (B.C. 202 A.D. 24), as it subse- suh. The name remains in Lung Chow, 
 quently was that of Suy (a.d. 589-618). in the extreme west of Shen-se. 
 
 2 The period Hwang-che embraced * K'een-kwei was the second king of 
 
 frorn a.d. 399 to 414, being the greater " the Western Ts'in." Fa-hien would 
 
 portion of the reign of Yao Hing of the find him at his capital, somewhere in 
 
 After Ts'in, a powerful prince. He the present department of Lan-chow, 
 
 adopted Hwang-che for the style of his Kan-suh. 
 
 reign in 399, and the cyclical name of ^ Chang-yih is still the name of a dis- 
 
 that year was Kang-tsze. It is not pos- trict in Kan-chow department, Kan-suh. 
 
 sible at this distance of time to explain. It is a long way north and west from 
 
 if it could be explained, how Fa-hien Lan-chow, and not far from the Great 
 
 came to say that Ke-hae was the second Wall. Its king at this time was, proba- 
 
 year of the period. It seems most rea- blv, Twan-yeh of " the northern Leang." 
 
 sonable to suppose that he set out on ^ Dana is the name for religious 
 
 his pilgrimage in a.d. 399, the cycle charity, the first of the six paramitas, or 
 
 name of which was Ke-hae. In the means of attaining to nirvana; and a 
 
 " Memoirs of Eminent Monks " it is danapati is " one who practises dana 
 
 said that our author started in the and thereby crosses the sea of misery." 
 
 213
 
 214 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 Here they met with Che-yen, Hwuy-keen, Sang-shao, Pao- 
 yun, and Sang-king; and in pleasant association with them, 
 as bound on the same journey with themselves, they passed 
 the summer retreat of that year" together, resuming after it 
 their travelling, and going on to T'un-hwang,* the chief town 
 in the frontier territory of defence extending for about eighty 
 li from east to west, and about forty from north to south. 
 Their company, increased as it had been, halted there for some 
 days more than a month, after which Fa-hien and his four 
 friends started first in the suite of an envoy, having separated 
 for a time from Pao-yun and his associates. 
 
 Le Hao, the prefect of T'un-hwang, had supplied them with 
 the means of crossing the desert before them, in which there 
 are many evil demons and hot winds. Travellers who en- 
 counter them perish all to a man. There is not a bird to be 
 seen in the air above, nor an animal on the ground below. 
 Though you look all round most earnestly to find where you 
 can cross, you know not where to make your choice, the only 
 mark and indication being the dry bones of the dead left upon 
 the sand. 
 
 CHAPTER H 
 
 On to Shen-shen and thence to Khoten 
 
 After travelling for seventeen days, a distance we may cal- 
 culate of about 1500 li, the pilgrims reached the kingdom of 
 Shen-shen, a country rugged and hilly, with a thin and barren 
 soil. The clothes of the common people are coarse, and like 
 those worn in our land of Han,^ some wearing felt and others 
 coarse serge or cloth of hair ; this was the only difference seen 
 among them. The king professed our Law, and there might 
 be in the country more than four thousand monks, who were 
 all students of the hinayana.^ The common people of this 
 t 
 
 ^ This was the second summer since had ruled it, first and last, for between 
 
 the pilgrims left Ch'ang-gan. We are four and five centuries. Occasionally, 
 
 now, therefore, probably, in a.d. 400. as we shall immediately see, he speaks 
 
 8 T'un-hwang is still the name of one of "the territory of Ts'in or Ch'in." 
 
 of the two districts constituting the de- but intending thereby only the kingdom 
 
 partment of Gan-se, the mo€t western of Ts'in, having its capital in Ch'ang- 
 
 of the prefectures of Kan-suh ; beyond gan. 
 
 the termination of the Great Wall. ^ Meaning the " small vehicle, or con- 
 
 ' This is the name which Fa-hien al- veyance." There are in Buddhism the 
 
 ways uses when he would speak of triyana, or " three different means of 
 
 China, his native country, as a whole, salvation, i.e. of conveyance across the 
 
 calling it from the great dynasty which samsara, or, sea of transmigration, to the
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 215 
 
 and other kingdoms in that region, as weh as the Sramans,^ all 
 practise the rules of India, only that the latter do so more 
 exactly, and the former more loosely. So the travellers found 
 it in all the kingdoms through which they went on their way 
 from this to the west, only that each had its own peculiar bar- 
 barous speech. The monks, however, who had given up the 
 worldly life and quitted their families, were all students of Ind- 
 ian books and the Indian language. Here they stayed for 
 about a month, and then proceeded on their journey, fifteen 
 days' walking to the northwest bringing them to the country 
 of Woo-e. In this also there were more than four thousand 
 monks, all students of the hinayana. They were very strict 
 in their rules, so that Sramans from the territory of Ts'in were 
 all unprepared for their regulations. Fa-hien, through the 
 management of Foo Kung-sun, maitre d' hotellerie , was able 
 to remain with his company in the monastery where they were 
 received for more than two months, and here they were re- 
 joined by Pao-yun and his friends. At the end of that time 
 the people of Woo-e neglected the duties of propriety and 
 righteousness, and treated the strangers in so niggardly a man- 
 ner that Che-yen, Hwuy-keen, and Hwuy-wei went back 
 towards Kao-ch'ang, hoping to obtain there the means of con- 
 tinuing their journey. Fa-hien and the rest, however, through 
 the liberality of Foo Kung-sun, managed to go straight for- 
 ward in a southwest direction. They found the country unin- 
 habited as they went along. The difficulties which they en- 
 countered in crossing the streams and on their route, and the 
 suflferings which they endured, were unparalleled in human 
 experience, but in the course of a month and five days they 
 succeeded in reaching Yu-teen. 
 
 shores of nirvana. Afterwards the term to the first of the three degrees of saint- 
 was used to designate the different ship." E. H., pp. 151-2. 45, and 117. 
 phases of development through which ^ " Sraman " may in English take the 
 the Buddhist dogma passed, known as place of .Sramana, the name for Bud- 
 the mahayana, hinayana, and madhya- dhist monks, as those who have sepa- 
 mayana." " The hinayana is the sim- rated themselves from (left) their fami- 
 plest vehicle of salvation, corresponding lies, and quieted their hearts from all 
 
 intrusion of desire and lust.
 
 2i6 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 Khoten — Processions of Images 
 
 Yu-Teen is a pleasant and prosperous kingdom, with a 
 numerous and flourishing population. The inhabitants all 
 profess our Law, and join together in its religious music for 
 their enjoyment. The monks amount to several myriads, 
 most of whom are students of the mahayana.^ They all re- 
 ceive their food from the common store. Throughout the 
 country the houses of the people stand apart like separate stars, 
 and each family has a small tope^ reared in front of its door. 
 The smallest of these may be twenty cubits high, or rather 
 more. They make in the monasteries rooms for monks from 
 all quarters, the use of which is given to travelling monks who 
 may arrive, and who are provided with whatever else they re- 
 quire. 
 
 The lord of the country lodged Fa-hien and the others com- 
 fortably, and supplied their wants, in a monastery called Go- 
 mati, of the mahayana school. Attached to it there are three 
 thousand monks, who are called to their meals by the sound of 
 a bell. When they enter the refectory, their demeanor is 
 marked by a reverent gravity, and they take their seats in reg- 
 ular order, all maintaining a perfect silence. No sound is 
 heard from their alms-bowls and other utensils. When any 
 of these pure men require food, they are not allowed to call 
 out to the attendants for it, but only make signs with their 
 hands. 
 
 Hwuy-king, Tao-ching, and Hwuy-tah set out in advance 
 towards the country of K'eeh-ch'a ; but Fa-hien and the others, 
 wishing to see the procession of images, remained behind for 
 three months. There are in this country four great monas- 
 teries, not counting the smaller ones. Beginning on the first 
 day of the fourth month, they sweep and water the streets in- 
 side the city, making a grand display in the lanes and byways. 
 Over the city gate they pitch a large tent, grandly adorned in 
 
 ' Mahayana is a later form of the Bud- nirvana, may be compared to a huge 
 
 dhist doctrine, the second phase of its vehicle. 
 
 development corresponding to the state ^ A worshipping place, an altar, or 
 
 of a Bodhisattva, who, being able to temple, 
 transport himself and all mankind to
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 217 
 
 all possible ways, in which the king and queen, with their 
 ladies brilliantly arrayed, take up their residence for the time. 
 
 The monks of the Gomati monastery, being mahayana stu- 
 dents, and held in greatest reverence by the king, took prec- 
 edence of all the others in the procession. At a distance of 
 three or four li from the city, they made a four-wheeled image 
 car, more than thirty cubits high, which looked like the great 
 hall of a monastery moving along. The seven precious sub- 
 stances^ were grandly displayed about it, with silken streamers 
 and canopies hanging all around. The chief image stood in 
 the middle of the car, with two Bodhisattvas* in attendance on 
 it, while devas were made to follow in waiting, all brilliantly 
 carved in gold and silver, and hanging in the air. When the 
 car was a hundred paces from the gate, the king put of¥ his 
 crown of state, changed his dress for a fresh suit, and with bare 
 feet, carrying in his hands flowers and incense, and with two 
 rows of attending followers, went out at the gate to meet the 
 image ; and, with his head and face bowed to the ground, he 
 did homage at its feet, and then scattered the flowers and burnt 
 the incense. When the image was entering the gate, the 
 queen and the brilliant ladies with her in the gallery above scat- 
 tered far and wide all kinds of flowers, which floated about and 
 fell promiscuously to the ground. In this way everything was 
 done to promote the dignity of the occasion. The carriages 
 of the monasteries were all different, and each one had its own 
 day for the procession. The ceremony began on the first day 
 of the fourth month, and ended on the fourteenth, after which 
 the king and queen returned to the palace. 
 
 Seven or eight li to the west of the city there is what is called 
 the King's new monastery, the building of which took eighty 
 years, and extended over three reigns. It may be two hun- 
 dred and fifty cubits in height, rich in elegant carving and in- 
 laid work, covered above with gold and silver, and finished 
 throughout with a combination of all the precious substances. 
 Behind the tope there has been built a Hall of Buddha, of the 
 utmost magnificence and beauty, the beams, pillars, venetianed 
 doors and windows, being all overlaid with gold-leaf. Be- 
 
 • The Sapta-ratna, gold, silver, lapis necessarily or usually the next) attain 
 lazuli, rock crystal, rubies, diamonds to Buddhahood. The name does not in- 
 or emeralds, and aprate. elude those Buddhas who have not yet 
 
 * A Bodhisattva is one whose essence attained to parinirvana. The symbol of 
 has become intelligence; a Being who the state is an elephant fording a river, 
 will in some future birth as a man (not
 
 2i8 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 sides this, the apartments for the monks are imposingly and 
 elegantly decorated, beyond the power of words to express. 
 Of whatever things of highest value and preciousness the kings 
 in the six countries on the east of the Ts'ung range of moun- 
 tains are possessed, they contribute the greater portion to this 
 monastery, using but a small portion of them themselves. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 Through the Ts'ung Mountains to K'eech-ch*a 
 
 When the processions of images in the fourth month were 
 over, Sang-shao, by himself alone, followed a Tartar who was 
 an earnest follower of the Law, and proceeded towards Ko- 
 phene. Fa-hien and the others went forward to the kingdom 
 of Tsze-hoh, which it took them twenty-five days to reach. Its 
 king was a strenuous follower of our Law, and had around him 
 more than a thousand monks, mostly students of the maha- 
 yana. Here the travellers abode fifteen days, and then went 
 south for four days, when they found themselves among the 
 Ts'ung-ling mountains, and reached the country of Yu-hwuy, 
 where they halted and kept their retreat.* When this was 
 over, they went on among the hills for twenty-five days, and 
 got to K'eeh-ch'a, there rejoining Hwuy-king and his two 
 companions. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 Great Quinquennial Assembly of Monks 
 
 It happened that the king of the country was then holding 
 the paficha parishad ; that is, in Chinese, the great quinquen- 
 nial assembly. When this is to be held, the king requests the 
 presence of the §ramans from all quarters of his kingdom. 
 They come as if in clouds ; and when they are all assembled, 
 their place of session is grandly decorated. Silken streamers 
 and canopies are hung out in it, and water-lilies in gold and 
 
 • This was the retreat already twice the season, indicating their approach to 
 
 mentioned as kept by the pilgrims in India. Two, if not three, years had 
 
 the summer, the different phraseology, elapsed since they left Ch'ang-gan. Are 
 
 " quiet rest," without any mention of we now with them in 402?
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 219 
 
 silver are made and fixed up behind the places where the chief 
 of them are to sit. When clean mats have been spread, and 
 they are all seated, the king and his ministers present their 
 offerings according to rule and law. The assembly takes place 
 in the first, second, or third month, for the most part in the 
 spring. 
 
 After the king has held the assembly, he further exhorts the 
 ministers to make other and special offerings. The doing of 
 this extends over one, two, three, five, or even seven days ; and 
 when all is finished, he takes his own riding-horse, saddles, 
 bridles, and waits on him himself, while he makes the noblest 
 and most important minister of the kingdom mount him. 
 Then, taking fine white woollen cloth, all sorts of precious 
 things, and articles which the Sramans require, he distributes 
 them among them, uttering vows at the same time along with 
 all his ministers ; and when this distribution has taken place, he 
 again redeems whatever he wishes from the monks. 
 
 The country, being among the hills and cold, does not pro- 
 duce the other cereals, and only the wheat gets ripe. After 
 the monks have received their annual portion of this, the morn- 
 ings suddenly show the hoar-frost, and on this account the 
 king always begs the monks to make the wheat ripen ^ before 
 they receive their portion. There is in the country a spittoon 
 which belonged to Buddha, made of stone, and in color like his 
 alms-bowl. There is also a tooth of Buddha, for which the 
 people have reared a tope, connected with which there are 
 more than a thousand monks and their disciples, all students 
 of the hinayana. To the east of these hills the dress of the 
 common people is of coarse materials, as in our country of 
 Ts'in, but here also there were among them the differences of 
 fine woollen cloth and of serge or haircloth. The rules ob- 
 served by the Sramans are remarkable, and too numerous to 
 be mentioned in detail. The country is in the midst of the 
 Onion range. As you go forward from these mountains, the 
 plants, trees, and fruits are all different from those of the land 
 of Han, excepting only the bamboo, pomegranate, and sugar- 
 cane. 
 
 ^ Walters calls attention to this as showing that the monks of K'eeh-ch'a 
 had the credit of possessing weather-controlling powers.
 
 220 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 North India — Image of Maitreya Bodhisattva 
 
 From this the travellers went westward towards North 
 India, and after being on the way for a month, they succeeded 
 in getting across and through the range of the Onion moun- 
 tains. The snow rests on them both winter and summer. 
 There are also among them venomous dragons, which, when 
 provoked, spit forth poisonous winds, and cause showers of 
 snow and storms of sand and gravel. Not one in ten thousand 
 of those who encounter these dangers escapes with his life. 
 The people of the country call the range by the name of " The 
 Snow mountains." When the travellers had got through 
 them, they were in North India, and immediately on entering 
 its borders, found themselves in a small kingdom called T'o- 
 leih, where also there were many monks, all students of the 
 hinayana. 
 
 In this kingdom there was formerly an Arhan,^ who by his 
 supernatural power took a clever artificer up to the Tushita^ 
 heaven, to see the height, complexion, and appearance of 
 Maitreya Bodhisattva,^ and then return and make an image of 
 him in wood. First and last, this was done three times, and 
 then the image was completed, eighty cubits in height, and 
 eight cubits at the base from knee to knee of the crossed legs. 
 On fast-days it emits an efifulgent light. The kings of the 
 surrounding countries vie with one another in presenting 
 offerings to it. Here it is — to be seen now as of old. 
 
 ^ Lo-han, Arhat, Arahat .are all desig- sand years, but twenty-four hours there 
 
 nations of the perfected Arya, the dis- are equal to four hundred years on 
 
 ciple who has passed the different stages earth. 
 
 of the Noble Path, or eightfold excellent ^ Maitreya was a Bodhisattva, the 
 
 way, who has conquered all passions, principal one, indeed, of Sakyamuni's 
 
 and is not to be reborn again. Arhat- retinue, but is not counted among the 
 
 ship implies possession of certain su- ordinary disciples, nor is anything told 
 
 pernatural powers, and is not to be sue- of his antecedents. It was in the 
 
 ceeded by Buddhaship, but implies the Tushita heaven that Sakyamuni met 
 
 fact of the saint having already attained him and appointed him as his succes- 
 
 Nirvana. sor, to appear as Buddha after the lapse 
 
 " Tushita is the fourth Devaloka, of five thousand years. Maitreya is 
 
 where all Bodhisattvas are reborn be- therefore the expected Messiah of the 
 
 fore finally appearing on earth as Bud- Buddhists, residing at present in 
 
 dha. Life lasts in Tushita four thou- Tushita.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 221 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 The Perilous Crossing of the Indus 
 
 The travellers went on to the southwest for fifteen days 
 at the foot of the mountains, and following the course of their 
 range. The way was difficult and rugged, running along a 
 bank exceedingly precipitous, which rose up there, a hill-like 
 wall of rock, ten thousand cubits from the base. When one 
 approached the edge of it, his eyes became unsteady ; and if he 
 wished to go forward in the same direction, there was no place 
 on which he could place his foot ; and beneath were the waters 
 of the river called the Indus. In former times men had chis- 
 elled paths along the rocks, and distributed ladders on the face 
 of them, to the number altogether of seven hundred, at the 
 bottom of which there was a suspension bridge of ropes, by 
 which the river was crossed, its banks being there eighty paces 
 apart. The place and arrangements are to be found in the 
 Records of the Nine Interpreters, but neither Chang K'een^ 
 nor Kan Ying- had reached the spot. 
 
 The monks asked Fa-hien if it could be known when the 
 Law of Buddha first went to the east. He replied, " When I 
 asked the people of those countries about it, they all said that 
 it had been handed down by their fathers from of old that, after 
 the setting up of the image of Maitreya Bodhisattva, there 
 were Sramans of India who crossed this river, carrying with 
 them Sutras and Books of Discipline. Now the image was set 
 up- rather more than three hundred years after the Nirvana of 
 Buddha, which may be referred to the reign of king P'ing of 
 the Chow dynasty. According to this account we may say 
 that the diffusion of our great doctrines in the East began from 
 the setting up of this image. If it had not been through that 
 Maitreya, the great spiritual master who is to be the successor 
 of the ^akya, who could have caused the ' Three Precious 
 
 * Chang K'een, a minister of the em- ^ Less is known of Kan Ying than of 
 
 peror Woo of Han (b.c. 140-87), is Chang K'een. Being sent in a.d. 88 by 
 
 celebrated as the first Chinese who his patron Pan Chao on an embassy to 
 
 " pierced the void," and penetrated to the Roman empire, he only got as far 
 
 " the regions of the west," correspond- as the Caspian sea, and returned to 
 
 ing very much to the present Turkes- China. He extended, however, the 
 
 tan. Through him, by B.C. 115, a regu- knowledge of his countrymen with re- 
 
 lar intercourse was established between gard to the western regions. 
 China and the tliirty-six kingdoms or 
 States of that quarter.
 
 222 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 Ones,'^ to be proclaimed so far, and the people of those border 
 lands to know our Law ? We know of a truth that the open- 
 ing of the way for such a mysterious propagation is not the 
 work of man ; and so the dream of the emperor Ming of Han 
 had its proper cause." 
 
 CHAPTER VHI 
 Woo-chang, or Udyana — Traces of Buddha 
 
 After crossing the river, the travellers immediately came to 
 the kingdom of Woo-chang, which is indeed a part of North 
 India. Tlie people all use the language of Central India, 
 *' Central India " being what we should call the " Middle King- 
 dom." The food and clothes of the common people are the 
 same as in that Central Kingdom. The Law of Buddha is 
 very flourishing in Woo-chang. They call the places where 
 the monks stay for a time or reside permanently Sangharamas ; 
 and of these there are in all five hundred, the monks being all 
 students of the hinayana. When stranger bhikshus^ arrive at 
 one of them, their wants are supplied for three days, after 
 which they are told to find a resting-place for themselves. 
 
 There is a tradition that when Buddha came to North India, 
 he came at once to this country, and that here he left a print of 
 his foot, which is long or short according to the ideas of the 
 beholder on the subject. It exists, and the same thing is true 
 about it, at the present day. Here also are still to be seen the 
 rock on which he dried his clothes, and the place where he con- 
 verted the wicked dragon. The rock is fourteen cubits high, 
 and more than twenty broad, with one side of it smooth. 
 
 Hwuy-king, Hwuy-tah, and Tao-ching went on ahead tow- 
 ards the place of Buddha's shadow in the country of Nagara ; 
 but Fa-hien and the others remained in Woo-chang, and kept 
 the summer retreat. That over, they descended south, and 
 arrived in the country of Soo-ho-to. 
 
 ' " The precious Buddha," " the prec- > Bhikshu is the name for a monk as 
 
 ious Law," and " the precious Monk- " living by alms," a mendicant. All 
 
 hood "; Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha; bhikshus call themselves Sramans. 
 
 the whole being equivalent to Bud- Sometimes the two names are used to- 
 
 dbism. gether by our author.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 223 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 Soo-ho-to — Legends of Buddha 
 
 In that country also Buddhism is flourishing. There is in it 
 the place where Sakra,* Ruler of Devas, in a former age, tried 
 the Bodhisattva, by producing a hawk in pursuit of a dove, 
 when the Bodhisattva cut off a piece of his own flesh, and with 
 it ransomed the dove. After Buddha had attained to perfect 
 wisdom, and in travelling about with his disciples arrived at 
 this spot, he informed them that this was the place where he 
 ransomed the dove with a piece of his own flesh. In this way 
 the people of the country became aware of the fact, and on the 
 spot reared a tope, adorned with layers of gold and silver 
 plates. 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 Gandhara — Legends of Buddha 
 
 The travellers, going downwards from this towards the east, 
 in five days came to the country of Gandhara, the place where 
 Dharma-vivardhana, the son of Asoka,^ ruled. When Bud- 
 dha was a Bodhisattva, he gave his eyes also for another man 
 here ; and at the spot they have also reared a large tope, 
 adorned with layers of gold and silver plates. The people of 
 the country were mostly students of the hinayana. 
 
 • Sakra is a common name for the He was the grandson of Chandragupta, 
 Brahmanic Indra, adopted by Bud- a rude adventurer, who at one time was 
 dhism into the circle of its own great a refugee in the camp of Alexander the 
 adherents; — it has been said, "because Great; and within about twenty years 
 of his popularity." He is now the rep- afterwards drove the Greeks out of 
 resentative of the secular power, the India, having defeated Seleucus, the 
 valiant protector of the Buddhist body, Greek ruler of the Indus provinces, 
 but is looked upon as inferior to Sakya- His grandson was converted to Bud- 
 muni, and every Buddhist saint. dhism by the bold and patient demean- 
 ^ Asoka is here mentioned for the first or of an Arhat whom ne had ordered 
 time — the Constantine of the Buddhist to be buried alive, and became a most 
 society, and famous for the number of zealous supporter of the new faith, 
 viharas and topes which he erected.
 
 224 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 Takshasiia — Legends — The Four Great Topes 
 
 Seven days' journey from this to the east brought the trav- 
 ellers to the kingdom of Takshasila, which means " the severed 
 head " in the language of China. Here, when Buddha was a 
 Bodhisattva, he gave away his head to a man ; and from this 
 circumstance the kingdom got its name. 
 
 Going on further for two days to the east, they came to the 
 place where the Bodhisattva threw down his body to feed a 
 starving tigress. In these two places also large topes have 
 been built, both adorned with layers of all the precious sub- 
 stances. The kings, ministers, and peoples of the kingdoms 
 around vie with one another in making offerings at them. The 
 trains of those who come to scatter flowers and light lamps at 
 them never cease. The nations of those quarters call those 
 and the other two mentioned before " the four great topes." 
 
 CHAPTER XH 
 
 Buddha's Alms-bowl — Death of Hwuy-king 
 
 Going southwards from Gandhara, the travellers in four 
 days arrived at the kingdom of Purushapura.^ Formerly, 
 when Buddha was travelling in this country with his disciples, 
 he said to Ananda,^ " After my pari-nirvana,^ there will be a 
 king named Kanishka, who shall on this spot build a tope." 
 
 ' The modern Peshawur. _ longer to mourn his being within the 
 ^ A first cousin of Sakyamuni, and circle of transmigration, and could re- 
 born at the moment when he attained joice in an absolute freedom from pas- 
 te Buj^dhaship. Under Buddha's teach- sion, and a perfect purity. Still he con- 
 ing, Ananda became an Arhat, and is tinued to live on for forty-five years, 
 famous for his strong and accurate till he attained to pari-nirvana, and had 
 memory; and he played an important done with all the life of sense and so- 
 part at the first council for the forma- ciety, and had no more exercise of 
 tion of tlie Buddhist canon. The friend- thought. He died; but whether he ab- 
 ship between Sakyamuni and Ananda sohately and entirely ceased to be, in 
 was very close and tender; and it is im- any sense of the word being, it would 
 possible to read much of what the dying be difficult to say. Probably he him- 
 Buddha said to him_ and of him, as re- self would not and could not have 
 lated in the Mahapari-nirvana Sutra. spoken definitely on the |ioint. So far 
 without being moved almost to tears. as our use of language is concerned, 
 Ananda is to reapnear on earth as apart from any assured faith in ana 
 Buddha in another Kalpa. hope of immortality, hi* pari-nirvana 
 
 ' On his attaining to nirv.nna, .Sakya- was his death, 
 muni became the Buddha, and had no
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 225 
 
 This Kanishka was afterwards born into the world ; and once, 
 when he had gone forth to look about him, Sakra, Ruler of 
 Devas, wishing to excite the idea in his mind, assumed the ap- 
 pearance of a little herd-boy, and was making a tope right in 
 the way of the king, who asked what sort of a thing he was 
 making. The boy said, " I am making a tope for Buddha." 
 The king said, " Very good ; " and immediately, right over the 
 boy's tope, he proceeded to rear another, which was more than 
 four hundred cubits high, and adorned with layers of all the 
 precious substances. Of all the topes and temples which the 
 travellers saw in their journeyings, there was not one compara- 
 ble to this in solemn beauty and majestic grandeur. There 
 is a current saying that this is the finest tope in Jambudvipa.* 
 When the king's tope was completed, the little tope of the boy 
 came out from its side on the south, rather more than three 
 cubits in height. 
 
 Buddha's alms-bowl is in this country. Formerly, a king of 
 Yijeh-she raised a large force and invaded this country, wish- 
 ing to carry the bowl away. Having subdued the kingdom, 
 as he and his captains were sincere believers in the Law of 
 Buddha, and wished to carry off the bowl, they proceeded to 
 present their offerings on a great scale. When they had done 
 so to the Three Precious Ones, he made a large elephant be 
 grandly caparisoned, and placed the bowl upon it. But the 
 elephant knelt down on the ground, and was unable to go for- 
 ward. Again he caused a four-wheeled wagon to be prepared 
 in which the bowl was put to be conveyed away. Eight ele- 
 phants were then yoked to it, and dragged it with their united 
 strength ; but neither were they able to go forward. The king 
 knew that the time for an association between himself and the 
 bowl had not yet arrived, and was sad and deeply ashamed of 
 himself. Forthwith he built a tope at the place and a monas- 
 tery, and left a guard to watch the bowl, making all sorts of 
 contributions. 
 
 There may be there more than seven hundred monks. 
 When it is near mid-day, they bring out the bowl, and, along 
 with the common people, make their various offerings to it, 
 after which they take their mid-day meal. In the evening, at 
 the time of incense, they bring the bowl out again. It may con- 
 
 *JambtidviDa is one of the four great Buddhists, and so-called because it re- 
 continents of the universe, representing sembles in shape the leaves of the jam- 
 the inhabited world as fancied by the bu tree. 
 
 Vol. IV.— 15 *
 
 226 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 tain rather more than two pecks, and is of various colors, black 
 predominating, with the seams that show its fourfold compo- 
 sition distinctly marked. Its thickness is about the fifth of an 
 inch, and it has a bright and glossy lustre. When poor people 
 throw into it a few flowers, it becomes immediately full, while 
 some very rich people, wishing to make offering of many 
 flowers, might not stop till they had thrown in hundreds, thou- 
 sands, and myriads of bushels, and yet would not be able to fill 
 it.^ 
 
 Pao-yun and Sang-king here merely made their offerings to 
 the alms-bowl, and then resolved to go back. Hwuy-king, 
 Hwuy-tah, and Tao-ching had gone on before the rest to Na- 
 gara, to make their offerings at the places of Buddha's shadow, 
 tooth, and the flat-bone of his skull. There Hwuy-king fell 
 ill, and Tao-ching remained to look after him, while Hwuy-tah 
 came alone to Purushapura, and saw the others, and then he 
 with Pao-yun and Sang-king took their way back to the land 
 of Ts'in. Hwuy-king came to his end in the monastery of 
 Buddha's alms-bowl, and on this Fa-hien went forward alone 
 towards the place of the flat-bone of Buddha's skull.** 
 
 CHAPTER XHI 
 
 Festival of Buddha's Skull-bone 
 
 Going west for sixteen yojanas,^ he came to the city He-lo^ 
 in the borders of the country of Nagara, where there is the flat- 
 bone of Buddha's skull, deposited in a vihara^ adorned all over 
 with gold-leaf and the seven sacred substances. The king of 
 the country, revering and honoring the bone, and anxious lest 
 it should be stolen away, has selected eight individuals, repre- 
 senting the great families in the kingdom, and committed to 
 each a seal, with which he should seal its shrine and guard the 
 relic. At early dawn these eight men come, and after each has 
 inspected his seal, they open the door. Tliis done, they wash 
 
 8 Compare the narrative in Luke's are very difFerent, and vary from four 
 
 Gospel, xxi. 1-4. and a lialf or five miles to seven, and 
 
 ^ [This story of ITwuy-king's death sometimes more, 
 
 differs from the account given in chap- - The present Hidda, west of Pcsha- 
 
 ter xiv. — Editor.] wur, and five miles south of Jellalabad. 
 
 ' Now in India, Fa-hien used the Ind- ^ " The vihara," says Hardy, " is the 
 
 ian measure of distance; but it is not residence of a recluse or priest;" and 
 
 f)ossihle to determine exactly what its so Davids — " the clean little hut where 
 
 ength then was. The estimates of it the mendicant lives."
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 227 
 
 their hands with scented water and bring out the bone, which 
 they place outside the vihara, on a lofty platform, where it is 
 supported on a round pedestal of the seven precious sub- 
 stances, and covered with a bell of lapis lazuli, both adorned 
 with rows of pearls. Its color is of a yellowish white, and it 
 forms an imperfect circle twelve inches round, curving up- 
 wards to the centre. Every day, after it has been brought 
 forth, the keepers of the vihara ascend a high gallery, where 
 they beat great drums, blow conches, and clash their copper 
 cymbals. When the king hears them, he goes to the vihara, 
 and makes his offerings of flowers and incense. When he has 
 done this, he and his attendants in order, one after another, 
 raise the bone, place it for a moment on the top of their heads, 
 and then depart, going out by the door on the west as they had 
 entered by that on the east. The king every morning makes 
 his offerings and performs his worship, and afterwards gives 
 audience on the business of his government. The chiefs of 
 the Vaisyas* also make their offerings before they attend to 
 their family affairs. Every day it is so, and there is no remiss- 
 ness in the observance of the custom. When all of the offer- 
 ings are over, they replace the bone in the vihara, where there 
 is a vimoksha tope, of the seven precious substances, and 
 rather more than five cubits high, sometimes open, sometimes 
 shut, to contain it. In front of the door of the vihara, there 
 are parties who every morning sell flowers and incense, and 
 those who wish to make offerings buy some of all kinds. The 
 kings of various countries are also constantly sending messen- 
 gers with offerings. The vihara stands in a square of thirty 
 paces, and though heaven should shake and earth be rent, this 
 place would not move. 
 
 Going on, north from this, for a yojana, Fa-hien arrived at 
 the capital of Nagara, the place where the Bodhisattva once 
 purchased with money five stalks of flowers, as an offering to 
 the Dipankara Buddha. In the midst of the city there is also 
 the tope of Buddha's tooth, where offerings are made in the 
 same way as to the flat-bone of his skull. 
 
 A yojana to the northeast of the city brought him to the 
 mouth of a valley, where there is Buddha's pewter staff ; and a 
 vihara also has been built at which offerings are made. The 
 
 * The Vaisyas, or the bourgeois caste of Hindu society, are described here 
 as " resident scholars."
 
 228 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 staff is made of Gosirsha Chandana, and is quite sixteen or 
 seventeen cubits long. It is contained in a wooden tube, and 
 though a hundred or a thousand men were to try to hft it, they 
 could not move it. 
 
 Entering the mouth of the valley, and going west, he found 
 Buddha's Sanghali,^ where also there is reared a vihara, and 
 offerings are made. It is a custom of the country when there 
 is a great drought, for the people to collect in crowds, bring 
 out the robe, pay worship to it, and make offerings, on which 
 there is immediately a great rain from the sky. 
 
 South of the city, half a yojana, there is a rock-cavern, in a 
 great hill fronting the southwest ; and here it was that Buddha 
 left his shadow. Looking at it from a distance of more than 
 ten paces, you seem to see Buddha's real form, with his com- 
 plexion of gold, and his characteristic marks in their nicety, 
 clearly and brightly displayed. The nearer you approach, 
 however, the fainter it becomes, as if it were only in your fancy. 
 When the kings from the regions all around have sent skilful 
 artists to take a copy, none of them have been able to do so. 
 Among the people of the country there is a saying current that 
 " the thousand Buddhas must all leave their shadows here." 
 
 Rather more than four hundred paces west from the shadow, 
 when Buddha was at the spot, he shaved off his hair and clipped 
 his nails, and proceeded, along with his disciples, to build a 
 tope seventy or eighty cubits high, to be a model for all future 
 topes ; and it is still existing. By the side of it there is a mon- 
 astery, with more than seven hundred monks in it. At this 
 place there are as many as a thousand topes of Arhans and 
 Pratveka Buddhas. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Crossing the Indus to the East 
 
 Having stayed there till the third month of winter, Fa-hien 
 and the two others, proceeding southwards, crossed the Little 
 Snowy mountains. On them the snow lies accumulated both 
 winter and summer. On the north side of the mountains, in 
 
 * Or Sangliati, the double or composite robe, part of a monk's attire, reaching 
 from the shoulders to the knees, and fastened round the waist.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 229 
 
 the shade, they suddenly encountered a cold wind which made 
 them shiver and become unable to speak. Hwuy-king could 
 not go any farther. A white froth came from his mouth, and 
 he said to Fa-hien, " I cannot live any longer. Do you imme- 
 diately go away, that we do not all die here " ; and with these 
 words he died. Fa-hien stroked the corpse, and cried out pit- 
 eously, " Our original plan has failed ; it is fate. What can we 
 do ? " He then again exerted himself, and they succeeded in 
 crossing to the south of the range, and arrived in the kingdom 
 of Lo-e,^ where there were nearly three thousand monks, stu- 
 dents of both the mahayana and hinayana. Here they stayed 
 for the summer retreat,^ and when that was over, they went on 
 to the south, and ten days' journey brought them to the king- 
 dom of Poh-na, where there are also more than three thousand 
 monks, all students of the hinayana. Proceeding from this 
 place for three days, they again crossed the Indus, where the 
 country on each side was low and level. 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 Sympathy of Monks with the Pilgrims 
 
 After they had crossed the river, there was a country 
 named Pe-t'oo, where Buddhism was very flourishing, and the 
 monks studied both the mahayana and hinayana. When they 
 saw their fellow-disciples from Ts'in passing along, they were 
 moved with great pity and sympathy, and expressed them- 
 selves thus : " How is it that these men from a border-land 
 should have learned to become monks, and come for the sake 
 of our doctrines from such a distance in search of the Law of 
 Buddha ? " They supplied them with what they needed, and 
 treated them in accordance with the rules of the Law. 
 
 * Lo-e, or Rohi, or Afghanistan; only ^ We are now therefore in a.D. 404. 
 
 a portion of it can be intended.
 
 ajo THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 Condition and Customs of Central India 
 
 From this place they travelled southeast, passing by a suc- 
 cession of very many monasteries, with a multitude of monks, 
 who might be counted by myriads. After passing all these 
 places, they came to a country named Ma-t'aou-lo. They still 
 followed the course of the P'oo-na river, on the banks of which, 
 left and right, there were twenty monasteries, which might con- 
 tain three thousand monks ; and here the Law of Buddha was 
 still more flourishing. Everywhere, from the Sandy Desert, 
 in all the countries of India, the kings had been firm believers 
 in that Law. When they make their offerings to a community 
 of monks, they take ofi their royal caps, and along with their 
 relatives and ministers, supply them with food with their own 
 hands. That done, the king has a carpet spread for himself 
 on the ground, and sits down on it in front of the chairman ; — 
 they dare not presume to sit on couches in front of the com- 
 munity. The laws and ways, according to which the kings 
 presented their offerings when Buddha was in the world, have 
 been handed down to the present day. 
 
 All south from this is named the Middle Kingdom, In it 
 the cold and heat are finely tempered, and there is neither hoar- 
 frost nor snow. The people are numerous and happy ; they 
 have not to register their households, or attend to any magis- 
 trates and their rules ; only those who cultivate the royal land 
 have to pay a portion of the gain from it. If they want to go^ 
 they go ; if they want to stay on, they stay. The king governs 
 without decapitation or other corporal punishments. Crimi- 
 nals are simply fined, lightly or heavily, according to the cir- 
 cumstances of each case. Even in cases of repeated attempts 
 at wicked rebellion, they only have their right hands cut off. 
 The king's body-guards and attendants all have salaries. 
 Throughout the whole country the people do not kill any liv- 
 ing creature, nor drink intoxicating liquor, nor cat onions or 
 garlic. Tlie only exception is that of the Chandalas. That is 
 the name for those who are held to be wicked men, and live 
 apart from others. When they enter the gate of a city or a
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 231 
 
 market-place, they strike a piece of wood to make themselves 
 known, so that men know and avoid them, and do not come 
 into contact with them. In that country they do not keep 
 pigs and fowls, and do not sell live cattle ; in the markets there 
 are no butchers' shops and no dealers in intoxicating drink. 
 In buying and selling commodities they use cowries. Only 
 the Chandalas are hshcrmen and hunters, and sell flesh meat. 
 
 After Buddha attained to pari-nirvana the kings of the vari- 
 ous countries and the heads of the Vaisyas built viharas for 
 the priests, and endowed them with fields, houses, gardens, 
 and orchards, along with the resident populations and their 
 cattle, the grants being engraved on plates of metal, so that 
 afterwards they were handed down from king to king, without 
 any one daring to annul them, and they remain even to the 
 present.time. 
 
 The regular business of the monks is to perform acts of mer- 
 itorious virtue, and to recite their Siitras and sit wrapped in 
 meditation. When stranger monks arrive at any monastery, 
 the old residents meet and receive them, carry for them their 
 clothes and alms-bowl, give them water to wash their feet, oil 
 with which to anoint them, and the liquid food permitted out 
 of the regular hours. ^ When the stranger has enjoyed a very 
 brief rest, they further ask the number of years that he has 
 been a monk, after which he receives a sleeping apartment with 
 its appurtenances, according to his regular order, and every- 
 thing is done for him which the rules prescribe. 
 
 Where a community of monks resides, they erect topes to 
 Sariputtra,^ to Maha-maudgalyayana,^ and to Ananda, and 
 also topes in honor of the Abhidharma,* the Vinaya,* and the 
 Sutras.'* A month after the annual season of rest, the families 
 which are looking out for blessing stimulate one another to 
 make offerings to the monks, and send round to them the 
 liquid food which may be taken out of the ordinary hours. 
 All the monks come together in a great assembly, and preach 
 the Law ; after which offerings are presented at the tope of 
 
 * No monk can eat solid food except disciples of Buddha, and indeed the 
 
 between sunrise and noon, and total most learned and ingenious of them all. 
 
 abstinence from intoxicating drinks is * Mugalan, the Singhalese name of 
 
 obligatory. Food eaten at any other this disciple, is more pronounceable. He 
 
 part of the day is called vikala, and for- also was one of the principal disciples, 
 
 bidden; but a weary traveller might re- called Buddha's "left-hand attendant." 
 
 ceive unseasonable refreshment, con- He was distinguished for his power of 
 
 sisting of honey, butter, treacle, and vision, and his magic powers, 
 
 sesamum oil. * The different parts of the tripitaka. 
 
 2 Sariputtra was one of the principal
 
 232 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 ^aripiittra, with all kinds of flowers and incense. All through 
 the night lamps are kept burning, and skilful musicians are em- 
 ployed to perform. 
 
 When Sariputtra was a great Brahman, he went to Buddha, 
 and begged to be permitted to quit his family and become a 
 monk. The great Mugalan and the great Kasyapa also did 
 the same. The bhikshunis^ for the most part make their 
 offerings at the tope of Ananda, because it was he who re- 
 quested the World-honored one to allow females to quit their 
 families and become nuns. The ^ramaneras*^ mostly make 
 their offerings to Rahula.^ The professors of the Abhidharma 
 make their offerings to it ; those of the Vinaya to it. Every 
 year there is one such offering, and each class has its own day 
 for it. Students of the mahayana present offerings to the 
 Prajiia-paramita, to Maiijusri, and to Kwan-she-yin. When 
 the monks have done receiving their annual tribute from the 
 harvests, the Heads of the Vaisyas and all the Brahmans bring 
 clothes and such other articles as the monks require for use, 
 and distribute among them. The monks, having received 
 them, also proceed to give portions to one another. From 
 the nirvana of Buddha, the forms of ceremony, laws, and rules, 
 practised by the sacred communities, have been handed down 
 from one generation to another without interruption. 
 
 From the place where the travellers crossed the Indus to 
 South India, and on to the Southern Sea, a distance of forty or 
 fifty thousand li, all is level plain. There are no large hills 
 with streams among them ; there are simply the waters of the 
 rivers. 
 
 ^The bhikshunis are the female Yasodhara. Converted to Buddhism, he 
 
 monks or nuns, subject to the same followed his father as an attendant; and 
 
 rules as the bhikshus, and also to spec- after Buddha's death became the 
 
 ial ordinances of restraint. founder of a philosophical realistic 
 
 *■ The Sramaneras are the novices, school (vaibhashika). He is now 
 
 male or female, who have vowed to ob- revered as the patron saint of all 
 
 serve the Shikshapada, or ten com- novices, and is to be reborn as the eldest 
 
 mandments. son of every future Buddha. 
 
 ' The eldest soa of Sakyamuni by
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 233 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 Legend of the Trayastrimsas Heaven 
 
 From this they proceeded southeast for eighteen yojanas, 
 and found themselves in a kingdom called Sankasya, at the 
 place where Buddha came down, after ascending to the Tray- 
 astrimsas heaven/ and there preaching for three months his 
 Law for the benefit of his mother.- Buddha had gone up to 
 this heaven by his supernatural power, without letting his dis- 
 ciples know ; but seven days before the completion of the three 
 months he laid aside his invisibility, and Anuruddha,^ with 
 his heavenly eyes, saw the World-honored one, and immedi- 
 ately said to the honored one, the great Mugalan, " Do you go 
 and salute the World-honored one." Mugalan forthwith 
 went, and with head and face did homage at Buddha's feet. 
 They then saluted and questioned each other, and when this 
 was over, Buddha said to Mugalan, " Seven days after this I 
 will go down to Jambudvipa " ; and thereupon Mugalan re- 
 turned. At this time the great kings of eight countries with 
 their ministers and people, not having seen Buddha for a long 
 time, were all thirstily looking up for him, and had collected 
 in clouds in this kingdom to wait for the World-honored one. 
 
 Then the bhikshuni Utpala thought in her heart, " To-day 
 the kings, with their ministers and people, will all be meeting 
 and welcoming Buddha. I am but a woman ; how shall I suc- 
 ceed in being the first to see him ? " Buddha immediately, by 
 his spirit-like power, changed her into the appearance of a holy 
 Chakravartti king, and she was the foremost of all in doing 
 reverence to him. 
 
 * The heaven of Indra or Sakya, mean- he receives^ the monthly reports of the 
 
 ing " the heaven of thirty-three classes," four Maharajas, concerning the progress 
 
 a name which has been explained both of good and evil in the world," etc., etc. 
 
 historically and mythologically. " The ^ Buddha's mother, Maya and Maha- 
 
 description of it," says Eitel, " tallies in maya, died seven days after liis birth, 
 
 all respects with the Svarga of Brah- ^ Anuruddha was a first cousin of 
 
 manic mythology. It is situated between Sakyamuni, being the son of his uncle 
 
 the four peaks of the Meru, and consists Amritodana. He is often mentioned in 
 
 of thirty-two cities of devas, eight on the account we have of Buddha's last 
 
 each of the four corners of the moun- moments. His special gift was the 
 
 tain. Indra's capital of Bellevue is in " heavenly eye," the first of the six 
 
 the centre. There he is enthroned, with " supernatural talents," the faculty of 
 
 a thousand heads and a thousand eyes, comprehending in one instantaneous 
 
 and four arms grasping the vajra, with view, or by intuition, all beings in all 
 
 his wife and 119,000 concubines. There worlds.
 
 234 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 As Buddha descended from his position aloft in the Trayas- 
 trimsas heaven, when he was coming down, there were made 
 to appear three liights of precious steps. Buddha was on the 
 middle flight, the steps of which were composed of the seven 
 precious substances. The king of Brahma-loka* also made 
 a flight of silver steps appear on the right side, where he was 
 seen attending with a white chowry in his hand. Sakra, Ruler 
 of Devas, made a flight of steps of purple gold on the left side, 
 where he was seen attending and holding an umbrella of the 
 seven precious substances. An innumerable multitude of the 
 devas followed Buddha in his descent. When he was come 
 down, the three flights all disappeared in the ground, except- 
 ing seven steps, which continued to be visible. Afterwards 
 king Asoka, wishing to know where their ends rested, sent 
 men to dig and see. They went down to the yellow springs 
 without reaching the bottom of the steps, and from this the 
 king received an increase to his reverence and faith, and built 
 a vihara over the steps, with a standing image, sixteen cubits 
 in height, right over the middle flight. Behind the vihara he 
 erected a stone pillar, about fifty cubits high, with a lion on the 
 top of it.^ Let into the pillar, on each of its four sides, there 
 is an image of Buddha, inside and out shining and transparent, 
 and pure as it were of lapis lazuli. Some teachers of another 
 doctrine once disputed with the Sramanas about the right to 
 this as a place of residence, and the latter were having the 
 worst of the argument, when they took an oath on both sides 
 on the condition that, if the place did indeed belong to the 
 Sramanas, there should be some marvellous attestation of it. 
 When these words had been spoken, the lion on the top gave a 
 great roar, thus giving the proof; on which their opponents 
 were frightened, bowed to the decision, and withdrew. 
 
 Through Buddha having for three months partaken of the 
 food of heaven, his body emitted a heavenly fragrance, unlike 
 that of an ordinary man. He went immediately and bathed ; 
 and afterwards, at the spot where he did so, a bathing-house 
 
 * This was Brahma, the first person elephant on the top, which, however, 
 of the Brahmanical Trimiirti, adopted was minus trunk and tail. He sup- 
 by Buddhism, but placed in an inferior poses this to be the pillar seen by 
 position, and surpassed by every Bud- Fa-hien, who mistook the top of it for 
 dhist saint who attains to bodhi. a lion. It is possible such a mistake 
 
 ^A note of Mr. Beal says on this: — may have been made, as in the arccnint 
 
 " fieneral CunninRham, who visited the of one of the pillars at -Sravasti, F,T-hien 
 
 spot (1862), found a iiillar, evidently of savs an ox formed the capital, whilst 
 
 the age of Asoka, with a well-carved Hsiian-chwang calls it an elephant."
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 235 
 
 was built, which is still existing. At the place where the bhik- 
 shuni Utpala was the first to do reverence to Buddha, a tope 
 has now been built. 
 
 At the places where Buddha, when he was in the world, cut 
 his hair and nails, topes are erected ; and where the three Bud- 
 dhas*^ that preceded Sakyamuni Buddha and he himself sat; 
 where they walked, and where images of their persons were 
 made. At all these places topes were made, and are still exist- 
 ing. At the place where Sakra, Ruler of the Devas, and the 
 king of the Brahma-loka followed Buddha down from the 
 Trayastrimsas heaven they have also raised a tope. 
 
 At this place the monks and nuns may be a thousand, who 
 all receive their food from the common store, and pursue their 
 studies, some of the mahayana and some of the hinayana. 
 Where they live, there is a white-eared dragon, which acts the 
 part of danapati to the community of these monks, causing 
 abundant harvests in the country, and the enriching rains to 
 come in season, without the occurrence of any calamities, so 
 that the monks enjoy their repose and ease. In gratitude for 
 its kindness, they have made for it a dragon-house, with a car- 
 pet for it to sit on, and appointed for it a diet of blessing, which 
 they present for its nourishment. Every day they set apart 
 three of their number to go to its house, and eat there. When- 
 ever the summer retreat is ended, the dragon straightway 
 changes its form, and appears as a small snake, with white 
 spots at the side of its ears. As soon as the monks recognize 
 it, they fill a copper vessel with cream, into which they put the 
 creature, and then carry it round from the one who has the 
 highest seat at their tables to him who has the lowest, when it 
 appears as if saluting them. When it has been taken round, 
 immediately it disappears ; and every year it thus comes forth 
 once. The country is very productive, and the people are 
 prosperous, and happy beyond comparison. When people of 
 other countries come to it, they are exceedingly attentive to 
 them all. and supply them with what they need. 
 
 ' These three predecessors of Sakya- ni, " body radiant with the color of 
 muni were the_ three Buddhas of the oure gold"; of the same family. Hu- 
 present or Maha-bhadra Kalpa, of which man life reached in his time thirty 
 he was the fourth, and Maitreya is to be thousand years, and so many persons 
 the fifth and last. They were: (i) Kra- were converted by him. (3) Kasyapa, 
 kuchanda, " he who readily solves all " swallower of light." Human life 
 doubts "; a scion of the Kasyapa family. reached in his time twenty thousand 
 Human life reached in his time forty years, and so many persons were con- 
 thousand years, and so many persons verted by him. 
 were converted by him. (2) Kanakamu-
 
 236 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 Fifty yojanas northwest from the monastery there is an- 
 other, called " The Great Heap." Great Heap was the name 
 of a wicked demon, who was converted by Buddha, and men 
 subsequently at this place reared a vihara. When it was being 
 made over to an Arhat by pouring water on his hands, some 
 drops fell on the ground. They are still on the spot, and how- 
 ever they may be brushed away and removed, they continue to 
 be visible, and cannot be made to disappear. 
 
 At this place there is also a tope to Buddha, where a good 
 spirit constantly keeps all about it swept and watered, without 
 any labor of man being required. A king of corrupt views 
 once said, " Since you are able to do this, I will lead a multi- 
 tude of troops and reside there till the dirt and filth has in- 
 creased and accumulated, and see whether you can cleanse it 
 away or not." The spirit thereupon raised a great wind, 
 which blew the filth away, and made the place pure. 
 
 At this place there are many small topes, at which a man 
 may keep counting a whole day without being able to know 
 their exact number. If he be firmly bent on knowing it, he 
 will place a man by the side of each tope. When this is done, 
 proceeding to count the number of the men, whether they be 
 many or few, he will not get to know the number.'^ 
 
 There is a monastery, containing perhaps six hundred or 
 seven hundred monks, in which there is a place where a Pratye- 
 ka Buddha used to take his food. The nirvana ground where 
 he was burned after death is as large as a carriage wheel ; and 
 while grass grows all around, on this spot there is none. The 
 ground also where he dried his clothes produces no grass, but 
 the impression of them, where they lay on it, continues to the 
 present day. 
 
 CHAPTER XVHI 
 Buddha's Subjects of Discourse 
 
 Fa-hien stayed at the Dragon vihara till after the summer 
 retreat,^ and then, travelling to the southeast for seven yojanas, 
 he arrived at the city of Kanyakubja, lying along the Ganges. 
 There are two monasteries in it, the inmates of which are stu- 
 
 ' This would seem to be absurd; but mysterious about the number of the 
 the writer evidently intended to con- topes, 
 vey the idea that there was something ' This was, probably, in a.d. 405.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 237 
 
 dents of the hinayana. At a distance from the city of six or 
 seven h, on the west, on the northern bank of the Ganges, is 
 a place where Buddha preached the Law to his disciples. It 
 has been handed down that his subjects of discourse were such 
 as " The bitterness and vanity of life as impermanent and un- 
 certain," and that " The body is as a bubble or foam on the 
 water." At this spot a tope was erected, and still exists. 
 
 Having crossed the Ganges, and gone south for three yoja- 
 nas, the travellers arrived at a village named A-le, containing 
 places where Buddha preached the Law, where he sat, and 
 where he walked, at all of which topes have been built. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 Legend of Buddha's Danta-kashtha 
 
 Going on from this to the southeast for three yojanas, they 
 came to the great kingdom of Sha-che. As you go out of the 
 city of Sha-che by the southern gate, on the east of the road 
 is the place where Buddha, after he had chewed his willow 
 branch, stuck it in the ground, when it forthwith grew up seven 
 cubits, at which height it remained, neither increasing nor di- 
 minishing. The Brahmans, with their contrary doctrines, be- 
 came angry and jealous. Sometimes they cut the tree down, 
 sometimes they plucked it up, and cast it to a distance, but it 
 grew again on the same spot as at first. Here also is the place 
 where the four Buddhas walked and sat, and at which a tope 
 was built that is still existing. 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 The Jetavana Vihara — Legends of Buddha 
 
 Going on from this to the south, for eight yojanas, the trav- 
 ellers came to the city of Sravasti in the kingdom of Kosala, 
 in which the inhabitants were few and far between, amounting 
 in all only to a few more than two hundred families ; the city 
 where king Prasenajit ruled, and the place of the old vihara of
 
 238 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 Maha-prajapati ;^ of the well and walls of the house of the 
 Vaisya head Sudatta;- and where the Angulimalya^ became 
 an Arhat, and his body was afterwards burned on his attaining 
 to pari-nirvana. At all these places topes were subsequently 
 erected, which are still existing in the city. The Brahmans, 
 with their contrary doctrine, became full of hatred and envy in 
 their hearts, and wished to destroy them, but there came from 
 the heavens such a storm of crashing thunder and flashing 
 lightning that they were not able in the end to effect their pur- 
 pose. 
 
 As you go out from the city by the south gate, and one 
 thousand two hundred paces from it, the Vaisya head Sudatta 
 built a vihara, facing the south ; and when the door was open, 
 on each side of it there was a stone pillar, with the figure of a 
 wheel on the top of that on the left, and the figure of an ox on 
 the top of that on the right. On the left and right of the build- 
 ing the ponds of water clear and pure, the thickets of trees 
 always luxuriant, and the numerous flowers of various hues, 
 constituted a lovely scene, the whole forming what is called 
 the Jetavana vihara. 
 
 When Buddha went up to the Trayastrimsas heaven, and 
 preached the Law for the benefit of his mother, after he had 
 been absent for ninety days, Prasenajit, longing to see him, 
 caused an image of him to be carved in Gosirsha Chandana 
 wood, and put in the place where he usually sat. When Bud- 
 dha, on his return entered the vihara, this image immediately 
 left its place, and came forth to meet him. Buddha said to it, 
 " Return to your seat. After I have attained to pari-nirvana, 
 you will serve as a pattern to the four classes of my disciples,"* 
 and on this the image returned to its seat. This was the" very 
 first of all the images of Buddha, and that which men subse- 
 
 * Explained by " Path of Love," and force of circumstances. Being convert- 
 
 " Lord of Life." Prajapati was aunt and ed ^y Buddha, he became a monk, 
 
 nurse of Sakyamuni. the first woman * Arya, meaning " honorable," " ven- 
 
 admitted to the monkhood, and the first erable," is a title given only to those 
 
 superior of the first Buddhistic con- who have mastered the four spiritual 
 
 vent. She is yet to become a Buddha. truths: — (i) that " misery " is a neces- 
 
 '^ Sudatta, meaning " almsgiver," was sary condition of all sentient existence; 
 
 the original name of Anatlia-pindika, this is duhka: (2) that the " accumula- 
 
 a wealthy householder, or Vaisya head, tion " of misery is caused by the pas- 
 
 of Sravasti, famous for his liberality. sions; this is samudaya: (3) that the 
 
 Of his old house, only the well and " extinction " of passion is possible; 
 
 walls remained at the time of Fa-hien's this is nirodha: and (4) that the " path " 
 
 visit to Sravasti. leads to the extinction of passion; which 
 
 ' The Anpulimalya were a sect or set is marga. According^o their attainment 
 
 of Sivaitic fanatics, who made assassi- of these truths, the Aryas. or followers 
 
 nation a religious act. The one of them of Buddha, are distinguished into four 
 
 here mentioned had joined them by the classes — Srotapannas, Sakridagamin«, 
 
 Anagamins, and Arhats.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 239 
 
 quently copied. Buddha then removed, and dwelt in a small 
 vihara on the south side of the other, a different place from 
 that containing the image, and twenty paces distant from it. 
 
 The Jetavana vihara was originally of seven stories. The 
 kings and people of the countries around vied with one another 
 in their offerings, hanging up about it silken streamers and can- 
 opies, scattering liowers, burning incense, and lighting lamps, 
 so as to make the night as bright as the day. This they did 
 day after day without ceasing. It happened that a rat, carry- 
 ing in its mouth the wick of a lamp, set one of the streamers 
 or canopies on fire, which caught the vihara, and the seven 
 stories were all consumed. The kings, with their olftcers and 
 people, were all very sad and distressed, supposing that the 
 sandal-wood image had been burned ; but lo ! after four or five 
 days, when the door of a small vihara on the east was opened, 
 there was immediately seen the original image. They were 
 all greatly rejoiced, and co-operated in restoring the vihara. 
 When they had succeeded in completing two stories, they re- 
 moved the image back to its former place. 
 
 When Fa-hien and Tao-ching first arrived at the Jetavana 
 monastery, and thought how the World-honored one had 
 formerly resided there for twenty-five years, painful reflections 
 arose in their minds. Born in a border-land, along with their 
 like-minded friends, they had travelled through so many king- 
 doms; some of those friends had returned to their own land, 
 and some had died, proving the impermanence and uncertainty 
 of life ; and to-day they saw the place where Buddha had lived 
 now unoccupied by him. They were melancholy through 
 their pain of heart, and the crowd of monks came out, and 
 asked them from what kingdom they were come. " We are 
 come," they replied, " from the land of Han." " Strange," 
 said the monks w^th a sigh, " that men of a border country- 
 should be able to come here in search of our Law ! " Then 
 they said to one another, " During all the time that we, pre- 
 ceptors and monks, have succeeded to one another, we have 
 never seen men of Han, followers of our system, arrive here." 
 
 Four li to the northwest of the vihara there is a grove called 
 " The Getting of Eyes." Formerly there were five hundred 
 blind men, who lived here in order that they might be near the 
 vihara. Buddha preached his Law to them, and they all got 
 back their eyesight. Full of joy, they stuck their staves in the
 
 240 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 earth, and with their heads and faces on the ground, did rever- 
 ence. The staves immediately began to grow, and they grew 
 to be great. People made much of them, and no one dared 
 to cut them down, so that they came to form a grove. It was 
 in this way that it got its name, and most of the Jetavana 
 monks, after they had taken their mid-day meal, went to the 
 grove, and sat there in meditation. 
 
 Six or seven li northeast from the Jetavana, mother Vaisak- 
 ha built another vihara, to which she invited Buddha and his 
 monks, and which is still existing. 
 
 To each of the great residences for the monks at the Jeta- 
 vana vihara there were two gates, one facing the east and the 
 other facing the north. The park containing the whole was the 
 space of ground which the Vaisaya head, Sudatta, purchased 
 by covering it with gold coins. The vihara was exactly in the 
 centre. Here Buddha lived for a longer time than at any 
 other place, preaching his Law and converting men. At the 
 places where he walked and sat they also subsequently reared 
 topes, each having its particular name ; and here Vi^as the place 
 where Sundari^ murdered a person and then falsely charged 
 Buddha with the crime. Outside the east gate of the Jetavana, 
 at a distance of seventy paces to the north, on the west of the 
 road, Buddha held a discussion with the advocates of the nine- 
 ty-six schemes of erroneous doctrine, when the king and his 
 great officers, the householders, and people were all assembled 
 in crowds to hear it. Then a woman belonging to one of the 
 erroneous systems, by name Chafichamana, prompted by the 
 envious hatred in her heart, and having put on extra clothes in 
 front of her person, so as to give her the appearance of being 
 with child, falsely accused Buddha before all the assembly of 
 having acted unlawfully towards her. On this, Sakra, Ruler 
 of Devas, changed himself and some devas into white mice, 
 which bit through the strings about her waist ; and when this 
 was done, the extra clothes which she wore dropped down on 
 the ground. The earth at the same time was rent, and she 
 went down alive into hell. This also is the place where Deva- 
 datta, trying with empoisoned claws to injure Buddha, went 
 
 ^ Hsiian-chwang does not prive the Western Countries," where the murder 
 
 name of this murderer; see in Julien's is committed by several Rrahmacharins. 
 
 " Vie et Voyaq-es de Hiouen-thsang " — Tn this passage Real makes Sundari to 
 
 " a heretical P.rahman killed a woman be the name of the murdered person, 
 
 and calumniated Ruddlia." See also the But the text cannot be so construed, 
 fuller account in Real's " Records of
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 241 
 
 down alive into hell. Men subsequently set up marks to dis- 
 tinguish where both these events took place. 
 
 P'urther, at the place where the discussion took place, they 
 reared a vihara rather more than sixty cubits high, having in it 
 an image of Buddha in a sitting posture. On the east of the 
 road there was a devalaya" of one of the contrary systems, 
 called " The Shadow Covered," right opposite the vihara on 
 the place of discussion, with only the road between them, and 
 also rather more than sixty cubits high. The reason why it 
 was called " The Shadow Covered " was this : When the sun 
 was in the west, the shadow of the vihara of the World-honored 
 one fell on the devalaya of a contrary system ; but when the 
 sun was in the east, the shadow of that devalaya was diverted 
 to the north, and never fell on the vihara of Buddha. The mal- 
 believers regularly employed men to watch their devalaya, to 
 sweep and water all about it, to burn incense, light the lamps, 
 and present offerings ; but in the morning the lamps were 
 found to have been suddenly removed, and in the vihara of 
 Buddha. The Brahmans were indignant, and said, " Those 
 Sramanas take our lamps and use them for their own service 
 of Buddha, but we will not stop our service for you! "^ On 
 that night the Brahmans themselves kept watch, when they 
 saw the deva spirits which they served take the lamps and go 
 three times round the vihara of Buddha and present offerings. 
 After this administration to Buddha they suddenly disap- 
 peared. The Brahmans thereupon knowing how great was 
 the spiritual power of Buddha, forthwith left their families, and 
 became monks. It has been handed down, that, near the time 
 when these things occurred, around the Jetavana vihara there 
 were ninety-eight monasteries, in all of which there were 
 monks residing, excepting only in one place which was vacant. 
 In this Middle Kingdom there are ninety-six sorts of views, 
 erroneous and different from our system, all of which recog- 
 nize this world and the future world and the connection be- 
 tween them. Each has its multitude of followers, and they all 
 beg their food : only they do not carry the alms-bowl. They 
 also, moreover, seek to acquire the blessing of good deeds on 
 
 • A devalaya is a place in which a cumstances. Compare the whole ac- 
 
 deva is worshipped — a general name for count with the narrative in i Samuel 
 
 all Brahmanical temples. v. about the Ark and Dagon, that 
 
 ''Their speech was somewhat uncon- "twice-battered god of Palestine." 
 nected, but natural enough in the cir- 
 
 VOL. IV.— 16
 
 242 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 unfrequented ways, settinj^ up on the roadside houses of char- 
 ity, where rooms, couches, beds, and food and drink are sup- 
 plied to travellers, and also to monks, coming and going as 
 guests, the only difference being in the time for which those 
 parties remain. 
 
 There are also companies of the followers of Devadatta still 
 existing. They regularly make offerings to the three previous 
 Buddhas, but not to Sakyamuni Buddha. 
 
 Four li southeast from the city of Sravasti, a tope has been 
 erected at the place where the World-honored one encountered 
 king Viriidhaha, when he wished to attack the kingdom of 
 Shay-e, and took his stand before him at the side of the road. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 The Three Predecessors of Sakyamuni 
 
 Fifty li to the west of the city brings the traveller to a town 
 named Too-wei, the birthplace of Kasyapa Buddha. At the 
 place where he and his father met, and at that where he at- 
 tained to pari-nirvana, topes were erected. Over the entire 
 relic of the whole body of him, the Kasyapa Tathagata, a great 
 tope was also erected. 
 
 Going on southeast from the city of Sravasti for twelve yo- 
 janas, the travellers came to a town named Na-pei-kea, the 
 birthplace of Krakuchanda Buddha. At the place where he 
 and his father met, and at that where he attained to pari-nir- 
 vana, topes were erected. Going north from here less than a 
 yojana, they came to a town which had been the birthplace of 
 Kanakamuni Buddha. At the place where he and his father 
 met, and where he attained to pari-nirvana, topes were erected.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 243 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 Legends of Buddha's Birth 
 
 Less than a yojana to the east from this brought them to the 
 city of Kapilavastu ; but in it there was neither king nor people. 
 All was mound and desolation. Of inhabitants there were 
 only some monks and a score or two of families of the common 
 people. At the spot where stood the old palace of king Sudd- 
 hodana there have been made images of his eldest son and his 
 mother; and at the places where that son appeared mounted 
 on a white elephant when he entered his mother's womb, and 
 where he turned his carriage round on seeing the sick man 
 after he had gone out of the city by the eastern gate, topes 
 have been erected. The places were also pointed out where 
 the rishi A-e inspected the marks of Buddhaship on the body 
 of the heir-apparent when an infant ; where, when he was in 
 company with Nanda and others, on the elephant being struck 
 down and drawn on one side, he tossed it away;^ where he 
 shot an arrow to the southeast, and it went a distance of thirty 
 li, then entering the ground and making a spring to come 
 forth, which men subsequently fashioned into a well from 
 which travellers might drink ; where, after he had attained to 
 Wisdom, Buddha returned and saw the king, his father; where 
 five hundred Sakyas quitted their families and did reverence to 
 Upali- while the earth shook and moved in six dififerent ways ; 
 where Buddha preached his Law to the devas, and the four 
 deva kings and others kept the four doors of the hall, so that 
 even the king, his father, could not enter; where Buddha sat 
 under a nyagrodha tree, which is still standing, with his face 
 to the east, and his aunt Maha-prajapati presented him with a 
 Sanghali ; and where king Vaidiirya slew the seed of Sakya, 
 
 * The Lichchhavis of Vaisali had sent * They did this, probably, to show 
 
 to the young prince a very fine elephant; their humility, for Upali was only a 
 
 but when it was near Kapilavastu, Deva- Sudra by birth, and had been a barber; 
 
 datta, out of envy, killed it with a blow so from the first did Buddhism assert 
 
 of his fist. Nanda (not Ananda, but a its superiority to the conditions of rank 
 
 half-brother of Siddhartha), coming and caste. Upali was distinguished by 
 
 that way, saw the carcass lying on the his knowledge of the rules of discipline, 
 
 road, and pulled it on one side; but the and praised on that account by Buddha. 
 
 Bodhisattva, seeing it there, took it by He was one of the three leaders of the 
 
 the tail, and tossed it over seven fences first synod, and the principal compiler 
 
 and ditches, when the force of its fall of the original Vinaya books, 
 made a great ditch.
 
 244 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 and they all in dying became Srotapannas.^ A tope was erect- 
 ed at this last place, which is still existing. 
 
 Several li northeast from the city was the king's field, where 
 the heir-apparent sat under a tree, and looked at the ploughers. 
 
 Fifty li east from the city was a garden, named Lumbini, 
 where the queen entered the pond and bathed. Having come 
 forth from the pond on the northern bank, after walking 
 twenty paces, she lifted up her hand, laid hold of a branch of a 
 tree, and, with her face to the east, gave birth to the heir-ap- 
 parent. When he fell to the ground, he immediately walked 
 seven paces. Two dragon-kings appeared and washed his 
 body. At the place where they did so, there was immediately 
 formed a well, and from it, as well as from the above pond, 
 where the queen bathed, the monks even now constantly take 
 the water, and drink it. 
 
 There are four places of regular and fixed occurrence in the 
 history of all Buddhas: first, the place where they attained to 
 perfect Wisdom and became Buddha ; second, the place where 
 they turned the wheel of the Law ; third, the place where they 
 preached the Law, discoursed of righteousness, and discom- 
 fited the advocates of erroneous doctrines ; and fourth, the 
 place where they came down, after going up to the Traya- 
 strimsas heaven to preach the Law for the benefit of their 
 mothers. Other places in connection with them became re- 
 markable, according to the manifestations which were made 
 at them at particular times. 
 
 The country of Kapilavastu is a great scene of empty desola- 
 tion. The inhabitants are few and far between. On the roads 
 people have to be on their guard against white elephants* and 
 lions, and should not travel incautiously. 
 
 * The Srotapannas are the first class them the Law. They died in the faith, 
 
 of saints, who are not to be reborn in and were reborn in the region of the 
 
 a lower sphere, but attain to nirvana four Great Kings. Thence they came 
 
 after having been reborn seven times back and visited Buddha at JTetavana 
 
 consecutively as men or devas. The in the night, and there they obtained the 
 
 Chinese editions state there were one reward of Srotapanna. 
 
 thousand of the Sakya seed. The gen- * Fa-hien does not say that he him- 
 
 eral account is that they were five hun- self saw any of these white elephants, 
 
 dred, all maidens, who refused to take nor does he speak of the lions as of any 
 
 their place in king Vaidurya's harem, particular color. We shall find by and 
 
 and were in consequence taken to a by, in a note further on, that, to make 
 
 pond, and had their hands and feet cut them appear more terrible, they are 
 
 off. There Buddha came to them, had spoken of as " black-" 
 their wounds dressed, and preached to
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 245 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 Legends of Rdma and its Tope 
 
 East from Buddha's birthplace, and at a distance of five 
 yojanas, there is a kingdom called Rama. The king of this 
 country, having obtained one portion of the relics of Buddha's 
 body, returned with it and built over it a tope, named the 
 Rama tope. By the side of it there was a pool, and in the 
 pool a dragon, which constantly kept watch over the tope, and 
 presented offerings at it day and night. When king Asoka 
 came forth into the world, he wished to destroy the eight topes 
 over the relics, and to build instead of them eighty-four thou- 
 sand topes. ^ After he had thrown down the seven others, he 
 wished next to destroy this tope. But then the dragon showed 
 itself, and took the king into its palace ; when he had seen all 
 the things provided for offerings, it said to him, " If you are 
 able with your offerings to exceed these, you can destroy the 
 tope, and take it all away. I will not contend with you." The 
 king, however, knew that such appliances for offerings were 
 not to be had anywhere in the world, and thereupon returned 
 without carrying out his purpose. 
 
 Afterwards, the ground all about became overgrown with 
 vegetation, and there was nobody to sprinkle and sweep about 
 the tope ; but a herd of elephants came regularly, which 
 brought water with their trunks to water the ground, and vari- 
 ous kinds of flowers and incense, which they presented at the 
 tope. Once there came from one of the kingdoms a devotee 
 to worship at the tope. When he encountered the elephants 
 he was greatly alarmed, and screened himself among the trees ; 
 but when he saw them go through with the offerings in the 
 most proper manner, the thought filled him with great sad- 
 ness — that there should be no monastery here, the inmates of 
 which might serve the tope, but the elephants have to do the 
 watering and sweeping. Forthwith he gave up the great pro- 
 hibitions by which he was bound, and resumed the status of a 
 Sramanera. With his own hands he cleared away the grass 
 
 ' The bones of the human body are of Asoka's wish to build eighty-four 
 supposed to consist of eighty-four thousand topes, one over each atom of 
 thousand atoms, and hence the legend Sakyamuni's skeleton.
 
 246 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 and trees, put the place in good order, and made it pure and 
 clean. By the power of his exhortations, he prevailed on the 
 king of the country to form a residence for monks ; and when 
 that was done, he became head of the monastery. At the 
 present day there are monks residing in it. This event is of 
 recent occurrence ; but in all the succession from that time till 
 now, there has always been a Sramanera head of the establish- 
 ment. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 Where Buddha Renounced the World 
 
 East from here four yojanas, there is the place where the 
 heir-apparent sent back Chandaka, with his white horse; and 
 there also a tope was erected. 
 
 Four yojanas to the east from this, the travellers came to the 
 Charcoal tope, where there is also a monastery. 
 
 Going on twelve yojanas, still to the east, they came to the 
 city of Kusanagara, on the north of which, between two trees, 
 on the bank of the Nairaiijana river, is the place where the 
 World-honored one, with his head to the north, attained to 
 pari-nirvana and died. There also are the places where Sub- 
 hadra,* the last of his converts, attained to Wisdom and be- 
 came an Arhat ; where in his coffin of gold they made offerings 
 to the World-honored one for seven days, where the Vajrapani 
 laid aside his golden club, and where the eight kings divided 
 the relics of the burnt body : at all these places were built topes 
 and monasteries, all of which are now existing. 
 
 In the city the inhabitants are few and far between, compris- 
 ing only the families belonging to the different societies of 
 monks. 
 
 Going from this to the southeast for twelve yojanas, they 
 came to the place where the Lichchhavis wished to follow 
 Buddha to the place of his pari-nirvana, and where, when he 
 would not listen to them and they kept cleaving to him, un- 
 
 * A Urahman of Benares, said to have be introduced; and then putting asi<3e 
 
 been one hundred and twenty years old, the ingenious but unimportant question 
 
 who came to learn from Ruddha the very which he propounded, preached to him 
 
 nipht he died. Ananda would have re- the Law. The Rrahm.Tn was converted 
 
 pulsed him; but Buddha ordered him to and attained at once to Arhatship.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 247 
 
 willing to go away, he made to appear a large and deep ditch 
 which they could not cross over, and gave them his alms-bowl, 
 as a pledge of his regard, thus sending them back to their 
 families. There a stone pillar was erected with an account of 
 this event engraved upon it. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 The Kingdom of Vaisali 
 
 East from this city ten yojanas, the travellers came to the 
 kingdom of Vaisali. North of the city so named is a large 
 forest, having in it the double-galleried vihara where Buddha 
 dwelt, and the tope over half the body of Ananda. Inside the 
 city the woman Ambapali^ built a vihara in honor of Buddha, 
 which is now standing as it was at first. Three li south of the 
 city, on the west of the road, is the garden which the same 
 Ambapali presented to Buddha, in which he might reside. 
 When Buddha was about to attain to his pari-nirvana, as he 
 was quitting the city by the west gate, he turned round, and, 
 beholding the city on his right, said to them, " Here I have 
 taken my last walk." Men subsequently built a tope at this 
 spot. 
 
 Three li northwest of the city there is a tope called, " Bows 
 and weapons laid down." The reason why it got that name 
 was this : The inferior wife of a king, whose country lay along 
 the river Ganges, brought forth from her womb a ball of flesh. 
 The superior wife, jealous of the other, said, " You have 
 brought forth a thing of evil omen," and immediately it was 
 put into a box of wood and thrown into the river. Farther 
 down the stream another king was walking and looking about, 
 when he saw the wooden box floating in the water. He had 
 it brought to him, opened it, and found a thousand little boys, 
 upright and complete, and each one different from the others. 
 He took them and had them brought up. They grew tall and 
 
 1 Ambapali, Amrapali, <or Amradarika, Buddha, Sakyamuni's predecessor, she 
 
 " the guardian of the Amra (probably had been born a devi, and finally ap- 
 
 the mango) tree," is famous in Buddhist peared in earth under an Amra tree in 
 
 annals. She was a_ courtesan. She had Vaisali. There again she fell into her 
 
 been in many narakas or hells, was old ways, and had a son by king Bimbi- 
 
 one hundred thousand times a female sara: but she was won over by Buddha 
 
 beggar, and ten thousand times a pros- to virtue and chastity, renounced the 
 
 titute; but maintaininp; perfect con- world, and attained to the state of an 
 
 tinence during the period of Kasyapa Arhat.
 
 248 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 large, and very daring and strong, crushing all opposition in 
 every expedition which they undertook. By and by they at- 
 tacked the kingdom of their real father, who became in con- 
 sequence greatly distressed and sad. His inferior wife asked 
 what it was that made him so, and he replied, " That king has 
 a thousand sons, daring and strong beyond compare, and he 
 wishes with them to attack my kingdom ; this is what makes 
 me sad." The wife said, " You need not be sad and sorrowful. 
 Only make a high gallery on the wall of the city on the east ; 
 and when the thieves come, I shall be able to make them re- 
 tire," The king did as she said ; and when the enemies came, 
 she said to them from the tower, " You are my sons ; why are 
 you acting so unnaturally and rebelliously ? " They replied, 
 " Who are you that say you are our mother?" " If you do 
 not believe me," she said, " look, all of you, towards me, and 
 open your mouths." She then pressed her breasts with her 
 two hands, and each sent forth five hundred jets of milk, which 
 fell into the mouths of the thousand sons. The thieves thus 
 knew that she was their mother, and laid down their bows and 
 weapons. The two kings, the fathers, hereupon fell into re- 
 flection, and both got to be Pratyeka Buddhas. The tope of 
 the two Pratyeka Buddhas is still existing. 
 
 In a subsequent age, when the World-honored one had at- 
 tained to perfect Wisdom and become Buddha, he said to his 
 disciples, " This is the place where I in a former age laid down 
 my bow and weapons."^ It was thus that subsequently men 
 got to know the fact, and raised the tope on this spot, which in 
 this way received its name. The thousand little boys were the 
 thousand Buddhas of this Bhadra-kalpa.^ 
 
 It was by the side of the " Weapons-laid-down " tope that 
 Buddha, having given up the idea of living longer, said to 
 Ananda, " In three months from this I will attain to pari-nir- 
 vana " ; and king Mara* had so fascinated and stupefied Anan- 
 
 * Thus Sakyamuni had been one of Buddhas appear in the course of it. Our 
 the thousand little boys who floated in present period is a Bhadra-kalpa, and 
 the box in the Ganges. How long back four Buddhas have already appeared, 
 the former age was we cannot tell. I It is to last two hundred and thirty-six 
 suppose the tope of the two fathers who millions of years, but over one hundred 
 became Pratyeka Buddhas had been and fifty-one millions have already 
 built like the one commemorating the elapsed." 
 
 laying down of weapons after Buddha * " The king of demons." The name 
 
 had told his disciples of the strange Mara is explained by " the murderer," 
 
 events in the past. " the destroyer of virtue," and similar 
 
 * Bhadra-kalpa, " the Kalpa of appellations. He is the personification 
 worthies or sages." " This," says Eitel, of lust, the god of love, sin, and death, 
 " is a designation for a Kalpa of sta- the arch-enemy of goodness, residing in 
 bility. so-called because one thousand the heaven Paranirmita V^asavartin on
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 249 
 
 da, that he was not able to ask Buddha to remain longer in this 
 world. 
 
 Three or four li east from this place there is a tope com- 
 memorating the following occurrence : A hundred years after 
 the pari-nirvana of Buddha, some Bhikshus of Vaisali went 
 wrong in the matter of the disciplinary rules in ten particulars, 
 and appealed for their justification to what they said were the 
 words of Buddha. Hereupon the Arhats and Bhikshus ob- 
 servant of the rules, to the number in all of seven hundred 
 monks, examined afresh and collated the collection of disci- 
 plinary books.'^ Subsequently men built at this place the tope 
 in question, which is still existing. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 A 
 
 Remarkable Death of Ananda 
 
 Four yojanas on from this place to the east brought the 
 travellers to the confluence of the five rivers. When Ananda 
 was going from Magadha to Vaisali, wishing his pari-nirvana 
 to take place there, the devas informed king Ajatasatru^ of it, 
 and the king immediately pursued him, in his own grand car- 
 riage, with a body of soldiers, and had reached the river. On 
 the other hand, the Lichchhavis of Vaisali had heard that 
 Ananda was coming to their city, and they on their part came 
 to meet him. In this way, they all arrived together at the 
 river, and Ananda considered that, if he went forward, king 
 Ajatasatru would be very angry, while, if he went back, the 
 Lichchhavis would resent his conduct. He thereupon in the 
 very middle of the river burnt his body in a fiery ecstasy of 
 Samadhi,^ and his pari-nirvana was attained. He divided his 
 
 the top of the Kamadhatu. He assumes * He was the son of king Bimbisara, 
 
 different forms, especially monstrous who was one of the first royal converts 
 
 ones, to ternpt or frighten the saints, to Buddhism. Ajasat murdered liis 
 
 or sends his daughters, or inspires father, or at least wrought his death; 
 
 wicked men like Devadatta or the Nir- and was at first opposed to Sakyamuni, 
 
 granthas to do his work. He is often and a favorer of Devadotta. When 
 
 represented with one hundred arms, and converted, he became famous for his 
 
 riding on an elephant. liberality in almsgiving. 
 
 ^ Or the Vinaya-pitaka. The meeting ^ " Samadhi," says Eitel, " signifies 
 
 referred to was an important one, and is the highest pitch of abstract, ecstatic 
 
 generally spoken of as the second Great meditation; a state of absolute indiflfer- 
 
 Coiincii of the Bi'dd'ii't Church. The ence to all influences from within or 
 
 first Council was that held at Rajagriha, without; a state of torpor of botfi the 
 
 short! v after Buddha's death, under the material and spiritual forces of vitality; 
 
 presidency of Kasyapa — say about B.C. a sort of terrestrial Nirvina, consistently 
 
 410. The second was that spoken of culminating in total destruction of life." 
 here — say about B.C. 300.
 
 250 
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 body into two parts, leaving one part on each bank ; so that 
 each of the two kings got one part as a sacred rehc, and took 
 it back to his own capital, and there raised a tope over it. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 King Asoka's Spirit-built Palace and Halls 
 
 Having crossed the river, and descended south for a yojana, 
 the travellers came to the town of Patalipiittra,^ in the kingdom 
 of Magadha, the city where king Asoka ruled. The royal pal- 
 ace and halls in the midst of the city, which exist now as of old, 
 were all made by spirits which he employed, and which piled 
 up the stones, reared the walls and gates, and executed the 
 elegant carving and inlaid sculpture-work — in a way which no 
 human hands of this world could accomplish. 
 
 King Asoka had a younger brother who had attained to be 
 an Arhat, and resided on Gridhra-kuta hill, finding his dehght 
 in soHtude and quiet. The king, who sincerely reverenced 
 him, wished and begged him to come and live in his family, 
 where he could supply all his wants. The other, however, 
 through his delight in the stillness of the mountain, was un- 
 willing to accept the invitation, on which the king said to him, 
 " Only accept my invitation, and I will make a hill for you 
 inside the city." Accordingly, he provided the materials of a 
 feast, called to him the spirits, and announced to them, " To- 
 morrow you will all receive my invitation ; but as there are no 
 mats for you to sit on, let each one bring his own seat." Next 
 day the spirits came, each one bringing with him a great rock, 
 like a wall, four or five paces square, for a seat. When their 
 sitting was over, the king made them form a hill with the large 
 stones piled on one another, and also at the foot of the hill, with 
 five large square stones, to make an apartment, which might be 
 more than thirty cubits long, twenty cubits wide, and more 
 than ten cubits high. 
 
 In this city there had resided a great Brahman, named Rad- 
 ha-sami, a professor of the mahayana, of clear discernment and 
 
 ' The modern Patna. The Sanscrit name means " The city of flowers." It 
 is the Indian Florence.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 251 
 
 much wisdom, who understood everything, Hving by himself in 
 spotless purity. The king of the country honored and rever- 
 enced him, and served him as his teacher. If he went to in- 
 quire for and greet him, the king did not presume to sit down 
 alongside of him ; and if, in his love and reverence, he took 
 hold of his hand, as soon as he let it go, the Brahman made 
 haste to pour water on it and wash it. He might be more 
 than fifty years old, and all the kingdom looked up to him. 
 By means of this one man, the Law of Buddha was widely 
 made known, and the followers of other doctrines did not find 
 it in their power to persecute the body of monks in any way. 
 
 By the side of the tope of Asoka, there has been made a 
 mahayana monastery, very grand and beautiful ; there is also 
 a hinayana one ; the two together containing six hundred or 
 seven hundred monks. The rules of demeanor and the scho- 
 lastic arrangements in them are worthy of observation. 
 
 Shamans of the highest virtue from all quarters, and stu- 
 dents, inquirers wishing to find out truth and the grounds of 
 it, all resort to these monasteries. There also resides in this 
 monastery a Brahman teacher, whose name also is Maiijusri, 
 whom the Shamans of greatest virtue in the kingdom, and the 
 mahayana Bhikshus honor and look up to. 
 
 The cities and towns of this country are the greatest of all in 
 the Middle Kingdom. The inhabitants are rich and prosper- 
 ous, and vie with one another in the practice of benevolence 
 and righteousness. Every year on the eighth day of the 
 second month they celebrate a procession of images. They 
 make a four-wheeled car, and on it erect a structure of five 
 stories by means of bamboos tied together. This is supported 
 by a king-post, with poles and lances slanting from it, and is 
 rather more than twenty cubits high, having the shape of a 
 tope. White and silk-like cloth of hair is wrapped all round 
 it, which is then painted in various colors. They make figures 
 of devas, with gold, silver, and lapis lazuli grandly blended and 
 having silken streamers and canopies hung out over them. 
 On the four sides are niches, with a Buddha seated in each, 
 and a Bodhisattva standing in attendance on him. There may 
 be twenty cars, all grand and imposing, but each one different 
 from the others. On the day mentioned, the monks and laity 
 within the borders all come together; they have singers and 
 skilful musicians ; they pay their devotions with flowers and in-
 
 252 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 cense. The Brahmans come and invite the Buddhas to enter 
 the city. These do so in order, and remain two nights in it. 
 All through the night they keep lamps burning, have skilful 
 music, and present offerings. This is the practice in all the 
 other kingdoms as well. The Heads of the Vaisya families in 
 them establish in the cities houses for dispensing charity and 
 medicines. All the poor and destitute in the country, orphans, 
 widowers, and childless men, maimed people and cripples, and 
 all who are diseased, go to those houses, and are provided with 
 every kind of help, and doctors examine their diseases. They 
 get the food and medicines which their cases require, and are 
 made to feel at ease ; and when they are better, they go away 
 of themselves. 
 
 When king Asoka destroyed the seven topes, intending to 
 make eighty-four thousand, the first which he made was the 
 great tope, more than three li to the south of this city. In 
 front of this there is a footprint of Buddha, where a vihara has 
 been built. The door of it faces the north, and on the south 
 of it there is a stone pillar, fourteen or fifteen cubits in circum- 
 ference, and more than thirty cubits high, on which there is 
 an inscription, saying, " Asoka gave the Jambudvipa to the 
 general body of all the monks, and then redeemed it from them 
 with money. This he did three times." North from the tope 
 three hundred or four hundred paces, king Asoka built the city 
 of Ne-le. In it there is a stone pillar, which also is more than 
 thirty feet high, with a lion on the top of it. On the pillar there 
 is an inscription recording the things which led to the building 
 of Ne-le, with the number of the year, the day, and the month. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 Rajagriha, New and Old — Legends Connected with It 
 
 The travellers went on from this to the southeast for nine 
 yojanas, and came to a small solitary rocky hill, at the head or 
 end of which was an apartment of stone, facing the south — the 
 place where Buddha sat, when Sakra, Ruler of Devas, brought 
 the deva-musician, Pafichasikha, to give pleasure to him by 
 playing on his lute, .^akra then asked Buddha about forty- 
 two subjects, tracing the questions out with his finger one by
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 253 
 
 one on the rock. The prints of his tracing are still there ; and 
 here also there is a monastery. 
 
 A yojana southwest from this place brought them to the vil- 
 lage of Nala, where Sariputtra was born, and to which also he 
 returned, and attained here his pari-nirvana. Over the spot 
 where his body was burned there was built a tope, which is still 
 in existence. 
 
 Another yojana to the west brought them to New Rajag- 
 riha — the new city which was built by king Ajatasatru. There 
 were two monasteries in it. Three hundred paces outside the 
 west gate, king Ajatasatru, having obtained one portion of the 
 relics of Buddha, built over them a tope, high, large, grand, 
 and beautiful. Leaving the city by the south gate, and pro- 
 ceeding south four li, one enters a valley, and comes to a cir- 
 cular space formed by five hills, which stand all round it, and 
 have the appearance of the suburban wall of a city. Here was 
 the old city of king Bimbisara ; from east to west about five or 
 six li, and from north to south seven or eight. It was here 
 that Sariputtra and Maudgalyayana first saw Upasena ; * that 
 the Nirgrantha made a pit of fire and poisoned the rice, and 
 then invited Buddha to eat with him ; that king Ajatasatru 
 made a black elephant intoxicated with liquor, wishing him to 
 injure Buddha ; and that at the northeast corner of the city in 
 a large curving space Jivaka built a vihara in the garden of 
 Ambapali, and invited Buddha with his one thousand two hun- 
 dred and fifty disciples to it, that he might there make his 
 offerings to support them. These places are still there as of 
 old, but inside the city all is emptiness and desolation ; no 
 man dwells in it. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 Fa-Hien Passes a Night on Gridhra-kuta Hill 
 
 Entering the valley, and keeping along the mountains on 
 the southeast, after ascending fifteen li, the travellers came to 
 mount Gridhra-kuta. Three li before you reach the top, there 
 is a cavern in the rocks, facing the south, in which Buddha sat 
 in meditation. Thirty paces to the northwest there is another, 
 where Ananda was sitting in meditation, when the deva Mara 
 
 • One of the five first followers of Sakyamuni.
 
 254 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 Pisuna, having assumed the form of a large vulture, took his 
 place in front of the cavern, and frightened the disciple. Then 
 Buddha, by his mysterious, supernatural power, made a cleft 
 in the rock, introduced his hand, and stroked Ananda's shoul- 
 der, so that his fear immediately passed away. The footprints 
 of the bird and the cleft for Buddha's hand are still there, and 
 hence comes the name of " The Hill of the Vulture Cavern." 
 
 In front of the cavern there are the places where the four 
 Buddhas sat. There are caverns also of the Arhats, one where 
 each sat and meditated, amounting to several hundred in all. 
 At the place where in front of his rocky apartment Buddha 
 was walking from east to west in meditation, and Devadatta, 
 from among the beetling clififs on the north of the mountain, 
 threw a rock across, and hurt Buddha's toes, the rock is still 
 there. 
 
 The hall where Buddha preached his Law has been de- 
 stroyed, and only the foundations of the brick walls remain. 
 On this hill the peak is beautifully green, and rises grandly up ; 
 it is the highest of all the five hills. In the New City Fa-hien 
 bought incense-sticks, flowers, oil and lamps, and hired two 
 bhikshus, long resident at the place, to carry them to the peak. 
 When he himself got to it, he made his offerings with the 
 flowers and incense, and lighted the lamps when the darkness 
 began to come on. He felt melancholy, but restrained his 
 tears and said, " Here Buddha delivered the Surangama Siitra. 
 I, Fa-hien, was born when I could not meet with Buddha ; and 
 now I only see the footprints which he has left, and the place 
 where he lived, and nothing more." With this, in front of the 
 rock cavern, he chanted the Surangama Siitra, remained there 
 over the night, and then returned towards the New City. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 Srataparna Cave, or Cave of the First Council 
 
 Out from the old city, after walking over three hundred 
 paces, on the west of the road, the travellers found the Karanda 
 Bamboo garden, where the old vihara is still in existence, with 
 a company of monks, who keep the ground about it swept and 
 watered.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 255 
 
 North of the vihara two or three H there was the Smasanam, 
 which name means in Chinese " the field of graves into which 
 the dead are thrown." 
 
 As they kept along the mountain on the south, and went 
 west for three hundred paces, they found a dwelling among 
 the rocks, named the Pippala cave, in which Buddha regularly 
 sat in meditation after taking his mid-day meal. 
 
 Going on still to the west for five or six li, on the north of 
 the hill, in the shade, they found the cavern called Srataparna,^ 
 the place where, after the nirvana of Buddha, five hundred 
 Arhats collected the Sutras. When they brought the Siitras 
 forth, three lofty seats had been prepared and grandly orna- 
 mented. Sariputtra occupied the one on the left, and Maud- 
 galyayana that on the right. Of the number of five hundred 
 one was wanting. Mahakasyapa was president on the middle 
 seat. Ananda was then outside the door, and could not get in. 
 At the place there was subsequently raised a tope, which is 
 still existing. 
 
 Along the sides of the hill, there are also a very great many 
 cells among the rocks, where the various Arhans sat and medi- 
 tated. As you leave the old city on the north, and go down 
 east for three li, there is the rock dwelling of Devadatta, and at 
 a distance of fifty paces from it there is a large, square, black 
 rock. Formerly there was a bhikshu, who, as he walked back- 
 wards and forwards upon it, thought with himself: — "This 
 body is impermanent, a thing of bitterness and vanity, and 
 which cannot be looked on as pure. I am weary of this body, 
 and troubled by it as an evil." With this he grasped a knife, 
 and was about to kill himself. But he thought again : — " The 
 World-honored one laid down a prohibition against one's kill- 
 ing himself."^ Further it occurred to him: — "Yes, he did; 
 but I now only wish to kill three poisonous thieves." Imme- 
 diately with the knife he cut his throat. With the first gash 
 into the flesh he attained the state of a Srotapanna ; when he 
 had gone half through, he attained to be an Anagamin ; and 
 when he had cut right through, he was an Arhat, and attained 
 to pari-nirvana, and died. 
 
 ' A very great place in the annals of The cave was prepared for the occasion 
 
 Buddhism. The Council in the .Srata- by king Ajatasatru. 
 
 parna cave did not come together fortui- " Buddha made a law forbidding the 
 tously, but appears to have been con- monks to commit suicide. He pro- 
 voked by the older members to settle hibited any one from discoursing on the 
 the rules and doctrines of the order. miseries of life in such a manner as to 
 
 cause desperation.
 
 256 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 Sakyamuni's Attaining to the Buddhaship 
 
 From this place, after travelling to the west for four yojanas, 
 the pilgrims came to the city of Gaya ; but inside the city all 
 was emptiness and desolation. Going on again to the south 
 for twenty li, they arrived at the place where the Bodhisattva 
 for six years practised with himself painful austerities. All 
 around was forest. 
 
 Three li west from here they came to the place where, when 
 Buddha had gone into the water to bathe, a deva bent down 
 the branch of a tree, by means of which he succeeded in getting 
 out of the pool. 
 
 Two li north from this was the place where the Gramika 
 girls presented to Buddha the rice-gruel made with milk; and 
 two li north from this was the place where, seated on a rock 
 under a great tree, and facing the east, he ate the gruel. The 
 tree and the rock are there at the present day. The rock may 
 be six cubits in breadth and length, and rather more than two 
 cubits in height. In Central India the cold and heat are so 
 equally tempered that trees live for several thousand and even 
 for ten thousand years. 
 
 Half a yojana from this place to the northeast there was a 
 cavern in the rocks, into which the Bodhisattva entered, and 
 sat cross-legged with his face to the west. As he did so, he 
 said to himself, " If I am to attain to perfect wisdom and be- 
 come Buddha, let there be a supernatural attestation of it." 
 On the wall of the rock there appeared immediately the shadow 
 of a Buddha, rather more than three feet in length, which is 
 still bright at the present day. At this moment heaven and 
 earth were greatly moved, and devas in the air spoke plainly, 
 " This is not the place where any Buddha of the past, or he that 
 is to come, has attained, or will attain, to perfect Wisdom. 
 Less than half a yojana from this to the southwest will bring 
 you to the patra tree, where all past Buddhas have attained, and 
 all to come must attain, to perfect Wisdom." When they had 
 spoken these words, they immediately led the way forward 
 to the place, singing as they did so. As they thus went away,
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 257 
 
 the Bodhisattva arose and walked after them. At a distance 
 of thirty paces from the tree, a deva gave him the grass of 
 lucky omen, which he received and went on. After he had 
 proceeded fifteen paces, five hundred green birds came flying 
 towards him, went round him thrice, and disappeared. The 
 Bodhisattva went forward to the patra tree, placed the kusa 
 grass at the foot of it, and sat down with his face to the east. 
 Then king Mara sent three beautiful young ladies, who came 
 from the north, to tempt him, while he himself came from the 
 south to do the same. The Bodhisattva put his toes down on 
 the ground, and the demon soldiers retired and dispersed, and 
 the three young ladies were changed into old grandmothers. 
 
 At the place mentioned above of the six years' painful aus- 
 terities, and at all these other places, men subsequently reared 
 topes and set up images, which all exist at the present day. 
 
 Where Buddha, after attaining to perfect Wisdom, for 
 seven days contemplated the tree, and experienced the joy 
 of vimukti ; where, under the patra tree, he walked to and 
 fro from west to east for seven days ; where the devas made 
 a hall appear, composed of the seven precious substances, 
 and presented offerings to him for seven days ; where the 
 blind dragon Muchilinda^ encircled him for seven days; where 
 he sat under the nyagrodha tree, on a square rock, with his 
 face to the east, and Brahma-deva came and made his request 
 to him ; where the four deva kings brought to him their 
 alms-bowls ; where the five hundred merchants presented to 
 him the roasted flour and honey ; and where he converted the 
 brothers Kasyapa and their thousand disciples; — at all these 
 places topes were reared. 
 
 At the place where Buddha attained to perfect Wisdom, 
 there are three monasteries, in all of which there are monks 
 residing. The famihes of their people around supply the soci- 
 eties of these monks with an abundant sufficiency of what they 
 require, so that there is no lack or stint. The disciplinary rules 
 are strictly observed by them. The laws regulating their de- 
 meanor in sitting, rising, and entering when the others are 
 assembled, are those which have been practised by all the saints 
 since Buddha was in the world down to the present day. The 
 places of the four great topes have been fixed, and handed 
 
 ' Called also Maha, or the Great Sakyamuni once sat for seven days ab- 
 Muchilinda. Eitel says: " A naga king, sorbed in meditation, whilst the king 
 the tutelary deity of a lake near which guarded him." 
 
 Vol. IV.— 17
 
 258 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 down without break, since Buddha attained to nirvana. 
 Those four great topes are those at the places where Buddha 
 was born ; where he attained to Wisdom ; where he began to 
 move the wheel of his Law ; and where he attained to pari- 
 nirvana. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 Legend of King Asoka in a Former Birth 
 
 When king Asoka, in a former birth, was a little boy and 
 playing on the road, he met Kasyapa Buddha walking. The 
 stranger begged food, and the boy pleasantly took a handful 
 of earth and gave it to him. The Buddha took the earth, and 
 returned it to the ground on which he was walking; but be- 
 cause of this the boy received the recompense of becoming a 
 king of the iron wheel, to rule over Jambudvipa. Once when 
 he was making a judicial tour of inspection through Jambud- 
 vipa, he saw, between the iron circuit of the two hills, a naraka 
 for the punishment of wicked men. Having thereupon asked 
 his ministers what sort of a thing it was, they replied, " It be- 
 longs to Yama,^ king of demons, for punishing wicked peo- 
 ple." The king thought within himself: — " Even the king of 
 demons is able to make a naraka in which to deal with wicked 
 men ; why should not I, who am the lord of men, make a nara- 
 ka in which to deal with wicked men? " He forthwith asked 
 his ministers who could make for him a naraka and preside 
 over the punishment of wicked people in it. They replied that 
 it was only a man of extreme wickedness who could make it ; 
 and the king thereupon sent of^cers to seek everywhere for 
 such a bad man ; and they saw by the side of a pond a man 
 tall and strong, with a black countenance, yellow hair, and 
 green eyes, hooking up the fish with his feet, while he called to 
 him birds and beasts, and, when they came, then shot and 
 
 ' Yama was originally the Aryan god controls all the female culprits, as he 
 of the dead, living in a heaven above the exclusively deals with the male sex. 
 world, the regent of the south; but Three times, however, in every twenty- 
 Brahmanism transferred his abode to four hours, a demon pours boiling cop- 
 hell. Both views have been retained per into Yama's mouth, and squeezes it 
 by Buddhism. The Yama of the text down his throat, causing him unspeak- 
 is the " regent of the narakas, resid- able pain." Such, however, is the won- 
 ing south of Jambudvipa, outside the derful " transrotation of births," that 
 Chakravalas (the double circuit of when Yama's sins have been expiated, 
 mountains above), in a palace built of he is to be reborn as Buddha, under 
 brass and iron. He has a sister who the name of " The Universal King."
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 259 
 
 killed them, so tiiat not one escaped. Having" got this man, 
 they took him to the king, who secretly charged him, " You 
 must make a square enclosure with high walls. Plant in it 
 all kinds of flowers and fruits ; make good ponds in it for bath- 
 ing ; make it grand and imposing in every way, so that men 
 shall look to it with thirsting desire ; make its gates strong and 
 sure ; and when any one enters, instantly seize him and punish 
 him as a sinner, not allowing him to get out. Even if I should 
 enter, punish me as a sinner in the same way, and do not let 
 me go. I now appoint you master of that naraka." 
 
 Soon after this a bhikshu, pursuing his regular course of 
 begging his food, entered the gate of the place. When the 
 lictors of the naraka saw him, they were about to subject him 
 to their tortures ; but he, frightened, begged them to allow him 
 a moment in which to eat his mid-day meal. Immediately 
 after, there came in another man, whom they thrust into a 
 mortar and pounded till a red froth overflowed. As the bhik- 
 shu looked on, there came to him the thought of the imperma- 
 nence, the painful suffering and inanity of this body, and how 
 it is but as a bubble and as foam ; and instantly he attained to 
 Arhatship. Immediately after, the lictors seized him, and 
 threw him into a caldron of boiling water. There was a look 
 of joyful satisfaction, however, in the bhikshu's countenance. 
 The fire was extinguished, and the water became cold. In the 
 middle of the caldron there rose up a lotus flower, with the 
 bhikshu seated on it. The lictors at once went and reported to 
 the king that there was a marvellous occurrence in the naraka, 
 and wished him to go and see it ; but the king said, " I formerly 
 made such an agreement that now I dare not go to the place." 
 The lictors said, " This is not a small matter. Your Majesty 
 ought to go quickly. Let your former agreement be altered." 
 The king thereupon followed them, and entered the naraka, 
 when the bhikshu preached the Law to him, and he believed, 
 and was made free. Forthwith he demolished the naraka, and 
 repented of all the evil which he had formerly done. From 
 this time he believed in and honored the Three Precious Ones, 
 and constantly went to a patra tree, repenting under it, with 
 self-reproach, of his errors, and accepting the eight rules of 
 abstinence. 
 
 The queen asked where the king was constantly going to, 
 and the ministers replied that he was constantly to be seen
 
 26o THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 under such and such a patra tree. She watched for a time 
 when the king was not there, and then sent men to cut the tree 
 down. When the king came, and saw what had been done, 
 he swooned away with sorrow, and fell to the ground. His 
 ministers sprinkled water on his face, and after a considerable 
 time he revived. He then built all round the stump with 
 bricks, and poured a hundred pitchers of cows' milk on the 
 roots ; and as he lay with his four limbs spread out on the 
 ground, he took this oath, " If the tree do not live, I will never 
 rise from this." When he had uttered this oath, the tree im- 
 mediately began to grow from the roots, and it has continued 
 to grow till now, when it is nearly one hundred cubits in 
 height. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXni 
 Kasyapa Buddha's Skeleton on Mount Gurupada 
 
 The travellers, going on from this three li to the south, 
 came to a mountain named Gurupada, inside which Mahakas- 
 yapa even now is. He made a cleft, and went down into it, 
 though the place where he entered would not now admit a 
 man. Having gone down very far, there was a hole on one 
 side, and there the complete body of Kasyapa still abides. 
 Outside the hole at which he entered is the earth with which 
 he had washed his hands. If the people living thereabouts 
 have a sore on their heads, they plaster on it some of the earth 
 from this, and feel immediately easier. On this mountain, 
 now as of old, there are Arhats abiding. Devotees of our 
 Law from the various countries in that quarter go year by year 
 to the mountain, and present offerings to Kasyapa ; and to 
 those whose hearts are strong in faith there come Arhats at 
 night, and talk with them, discussing and explaining their 
 doubts, and disappearing suddenly afterwards. 
 
 On this hill hazels grow luxuriantly ; and there are many 
 lions, tigers, and wolves, so that people should not travel in- 
 cautiously.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 261 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 On the Way Returning to Patna 
 
 Fa-hien returned from here towards Pataliputtra, keeping 
 along the course of the Ganges and descending in the direc- 
 tion of the west. After going ten yojanas he found a vihara, 
 named " The Wilderness " — a place where Buddha had dwelt, 
 and where there are monks now. 
 
 Pursuing the same course, and going still to the west, he 
 arrived, after twelve yojanas, at the city of Varanasi in the 
 kingdom of Kasi. Rather more than ten li to the northeast 
 of the city, he found the vihara in the park of " The rishi's 
 Deer-wild."^ In this park there formerly resided a Pratyeka 
 Buddha, with whom the deer were regularly in the habit of 
 stopping for the night. When the World-honored one was 
 about to attain to perfect Wisdom, the devas sang in the sky, 
 " The son of king Suddhodana, having quitted his family and 
 studied the Path of Wisdom, will now in seven days become 
 Buddha." The Pratyeka Buddha heard their words, and im- 
 mediately attained to nirvana ; and hence this place was named 
 " The Park of the rishi's Deer-wild." After the World- 
 honored one had attained to perfect Wisdom, men built the 
 vihara in it. 
 
 Buddha wished to convert Kaundinya and his four compan- 
 ions ; but they, being aware of his intention, said to one an- 
 other, " This Sramana Gotama^ for six years continued in the 
 practice of painful austerities, eating daily only a single hemp- 
 seed, and one grain of rice, without attaining to the Path of 
 Wisdom ; how much less will he do so now that he has entered 
 again among men, and is giving the reins to the indulgence of 
 
 1 " The rishi," says Eitel, " is a man text where the Bodhisattva or Buddha 
 
 whose bodily frame has undergone a is called by the surname " Gotama." 
 
 certain transformation by dint of medi- For the most part our traveller uses 
 
 tation and asceticism, so that he is, for Buddha as a proper name, though it 
 
 an indefinite period, exempt from de- properly means " The Enlightened." 
 
 crepitude, age, and death. As this period He uses also the combinations " Sakya 
 
 is believed to extend far beyond the Buddha," which means " The Buddha 
 
 usual duration of human life, such per- of the Sakya tribe," and " Sakyamuni," 
 
 sons are called, and popularly believed which means " The Sakya sage." This 
 
 to be, immortals." Rishis are divided last is the most common designation of 
 
 into various classes; and rishi-ism is the Buddha in China. Among other 
 
 snoken of as a seventh path of transro- Buddhistic peoples " Gotama " and 
 
 tation, and rishis are referred to as the " Gotama Buddha " are the more fre- 
 
 seventh class of sentient beings. quent designations. 
 
 ' This IS the only instance in Fa-hien's
 
 262 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 his body, his speech, and his thoughts ! What has he to do 
 with the Path of Wisdom ? To-day, when he comes to us, let 
 us be on our guard not to speak with him." At the places 
 where the live men all rose up, and respectfully saluted Bud- 
 dha, when he came to them ; where, sixty paces north from this, 
 he sat with his face to the east, and first turned the wheel of 
 the Law, converting Kaundinya and the four others ; where, 
 twenty paces further to the north, he delivered his prophecy 
 concerning Maitreya ; and where, at a distance of fifty paces 
 to the south, the dragon Elapattra asked him, *' When shall I 
 get free from this naga body? " — at all these places topes were 
 reared, and are still existing. In the park there are two mon- 
 asteries, in both of which there are monks residing. 
 
 When you go northwest from the vihara of the Deer-wild 
 park for thirteen yojanas, there is a kingdom named Kau- 
 sambi. Its vihara is named Ghochiravana — a place where 
 Buddha formerly resided. Now, as of old, there is a company 
 of monks there, most of whom are students of the hinayana. 
 
 East from this, when you have travelled eight yojanas, is the 
 place where Buddha converted the evil demon. There, and 
 where he walked in meditation and sat at the place which was 
 his regular abode, there have been topes erected. There is 
 also a monastery, which may contain more than a hundred 
 monks. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 Dakshina, and the Pigeon Monastery 
 
 South from this two hundred yojanas, there is a country 
 named Dakshina, where there is a monastery dedicated to the 
 by-gone Kasyapa Buddha, and which has been hewn out from 
 a large hill of rock. It consists in all of five stories ; — the low- 
 est, having the form of an elephant, with five hundred apart- 
 ments in the rock ; the second, having the form of a lion, with 
 four hundred apartments ; the third, having the form of a horse, 
 with three hundred apartments ; the fourth, having the form of 
 an ox, with two hundred apartments ; and the fifth, having the 
 form of a pigeon, with one hundred apartments. At the very 
 top there is a spring, the water of which, always in front of the 
 apartments in the rock, goes round among the rooms, now
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 263 
 
 circling, now curving, till in this way it arrives at the lowest 
 story, having followed the shape of the structure, and flows out 
 there at the door. Everywhere in the apartments of the 
 monks, the rock has been pierced so as to form windows for 
 the admission of light, so that they are all bright, without any 
 being left in darkness. At the four corners of the tiers of 
 apartments, the rock has been hewn so as to form steps for 
 ascending to the top of each. The men of the present day, be- 
 ing of small size, and going up step by step, manage to get to 
 the top ; but in a former age they did so at one step. Because 
 of this, the monastery is called Paravata, that being the Indian 
 name for a pigeon. There are always Arhats residing in it. 
 
 The country about is a tract of uncultivated hillocks, without 
 inhabitants. At a very long distance from the hill there are 
 villages, where the people all have bad and erroneous views, 
 and do not know the Sramanas of the Law of Buddha, Brah- 
 manas, or devotees of any of the other and different schools. 
 The people of that country are constantly seeing men on the 
 wing, who come and enter this monastery. On one occasion, 
 when devotees of various countries came to perform their wor- 
 ship at it, the people of those villages said to them, " Why do 
 you not i\y ? The devotees whom we have seen hereabouts all 
 fly " ; and the strangers answered, on the spur of the moment, 
 " Our wings are not yet fully formed." 
 
 The kingdom of Dakshina is out of the way, and perilous 
 to traverse. There are difficulties in connection with the 
 roads; but those who know how to manage such difficulties 
 and wish to proceed should bring with them money and vari- 
 ous articles, and give them to the king. He will then send 
 men to escort them. These will, at different stages, pass them 
 over to others, who will show them the shortest routes. Fa- 
 hien, however, was after all unable to go there ; but having re- 
 ceived the above accounts from men of the country, he has 
 narrated them.
 
 264 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 Fa-Hien's Indian Studies 
 
 From Varanasi the travellers went back east to Pataliputtra. 
 Fa-hien's original object had been to search for copies of the 
 Vinaya. In the various kingdoms of North India, however, 
 he had found one master transmitting orally the rules to an- 
 other, but no written copies which he could transcribe. He 
 had therefore travelled far and come on to Central India. 
 Here, in the mahayana monastery, he found a copy of the Vin- 
 aya, containing the Mahasanghika^ rules — those which were 
 observed in the first Great Council, while Buddha was still in 
 the world. The original copy was handed down in the Jeta- 
 vana vihara. As to the other eighteen schools, each one has 
 the views and decisions of its own masters. Those agree with 
 this in the general meaning, but they have small and trivial 
 dififerences, as when one opens and another shuts. This copy 
 of the rules, however, is the most complete, with the fullest ex- 
 planations.- 
 
 He further got a transcript of the rules in six or seven thou- 
 sand gathas,^ being the sarvastivadah * rules — those which are 
 observed by the communities of monks in the land of Ts'in ; 
 which also have all been handed down orally from master to 
 master without being committed to writing. In the commun- 
 ity here, moreover, he got the Samyuktabhi-dharma-hridaya- 
 sastra, containing about six or seven thousand gathas ; he also 
 got a Sijtra of two thousand five hundred gathas ; one chap- 
 ter of the Pari-nirvana-vaipulya Siatra, of about five thousand 
 gathas ; and the Mahasanghika Abhidharma. 
 
 In consequence of this success in his quest Fa-hien stayed 
 here for three years, learning Sanscrit books and the Sanscrit 
 speech, and writing out the Vinaya rules. When Tao-ching 
 arrived in the Central Kingdom, and saw the rules observed 
 by the Sramanas, and the dignified demeanor in their societies 
 
 ' Mahasanghika simply means " the sisting of a few, commonly of two, lines 
 Great Assembly," that is, of monks. somewhat metrically arranged. 
 
 _' It was afterwards translated by * " A branch," says Eitcl, " of the 
 
 Fa-hien into Chinese. great vaibhashika school, asserting the 
 
 'A gatha is a stanza, generally con- reality of all visible phenomena, and 
 
 claiming the authority of Rahuia."
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 265 
 
 which he remarked under all occurring circumstances, he sadly 
 called to mind in what a mutilated and imperfect condition the 
 rules were among the monkish communities in the land of 
 Ts'in, and made the following aspiration: "From this time 
 forth till I come to the state of Buddha, let me not be born in a 
 frontier-land." He remained accordingly in India, and did 
 not return to the land of Han. Fa-hien, however, whose origi- 
 nal purpose had been to secure the introduction of the com- 
 plete Vinaya rules into the land of Han, returned there alone. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVH 
 Fa-hien's Stay in Champa and Tamalipti 
 
 Following the course of the Ganges, and descending east- 
 ward for eighteen yojanas, he found on the southern bank the 
 great kingdom of Champa, with topes reared at the places 
 where Buddha walked in meditation by his vihara, and where 
 he and the three Buddhas, his predecessors, sat. There were 
 monks residing at them all. Continuing his journey east for 
 nearly fifty yojanas, he came to the country of Tamalipti, the 
 capital of which is a seaport. In the country there are twenty- 
 two monasteries, at all of which there are monks residing. 
 The Law of Buddha is also flourishing in it. Here Fa-hien 
 stayed two years, writing out his Sutras, and drawing pictures 
 of images. 
 
 After this he embarked in a large merchant-vessel, and went 
 floating over the sea to the southwest. It was the beginning 
 of winter, and the wind was favorable ; and, after fourteen 
 days, sailing day and night, they came to the country of Sing- 
 hala. The people said that it was distant from Tamalipti about 
 seven hundred yojanas. 
 
 The kingdom is on a large island, extending from east to 
 west fifty yojanas, and from north to south thirty. Left and 
 right from it there are as many as one hundred small islands, 
 distant from one another ten, twenty, or even two hundred li ; 
 but all subject to the large island. Most of them produce 
 pearls and precious stones of various kinds : there is one which 
 produces the pure and brilliant pearl — an island which would
 
 266 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 form a square of about ten li. The king employs men to 
 watch and protect it, and requires three out of every ten pearls 
 which the collectors find. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 At Ceylon — Feats of Buddha — His Statue in Jade 
 
 The country originally had no human inhabitants, but was 
 occupied only by spirits and nagas, with which merchants of 
 various countries carried on a trade. When the trafficking 
 was taking place, the spirits did not show themselves. They 
 simply set forth their precious commodities, with labels of the 
 price attached to them ; while the merchants made their pur- 
 chases according to the price ; and took the things away. 
 
 Through the coming and going of the merchants in this way, 
 when they went away, the people of their various countries 
 heard how pleasant the land was, and flocked to it in numbers 
 till it became a great nation. The climate is temperate and 
 attractive, without any difference of summer and winter. The 
 vegetation is always luxuriant. Cultivation proceeds when- 
 ever men think fit : there are no fixed seasons for it. 
 
 When Buddha came to this country, wishing to transform 
 the wicked nagas by his supernatural power, he planted one 
 foot at the north of the royal city, and the other on the top of 
 a mountain,^ the two being fifteen yojanas apart. Over the 
 footprint at the north of the city the king built a large tope, 
 four hundred cubits high, grandly adorned with gold and sil- 
 ver, and finished with a combination of all the precious sub- 
 stances. By the side of the tope he further built a monastery, 
 called the Abhayagiri, where there are now five thousand 
 monks. There is in it a hall of Buddha, adorned with carved 
 and inlaid work of gold .and silver, and rich in the seven prec- 
 ious substances, in which there is an image of Buddha in green 
 jade, more than twenty cubits in height, glittering all over with 
 
 1 This would be what is known as 2% feet wide. The Hindus rep^ard it as 
 
 "Adam's peak," having, according to the footprint of Siva; the Mohamme- 
 
 Hardy. the three names of Selesumano, dans, as that of Adam; and the Bud- 
 
 Samastakijfa, and Samanila. There is dliists, as in the text — as having been 
 
 an indentation on the top of it, a super- made by Buddha, 
 ficial hollow, s feet 3% inches long, and
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 267 
 
 those substances, and having an appearance of solemn dignity 
 which words cannot express. In the palm of the right hand 
 there is a priceless pearl. Several years had now elapsed since 
 Fa-hien left the land of Han ; the men with whom he had been 
 in intercourse had all been of regions strange to him ; his eyes 
 had not rested on an old and familiar hill or river, plant or 
 tree : his fellow-travellers, moreover, had been separated from 
 him, some by death, and others flowing off in different direc- 
 tions ; no face or shadow was now with him but his own, and 
 a constant sadness was in his heart. Suddenly one day, when 
 by the side of this image of jade, he saw a merchant presenting 
 as his offering a fan of white silk ;^ and the tears of sorrow in- 
 voluntarily filled his eyes and fell down. 
 
 A former king of the country had sent to Central India and 
 got a slip of the patra tree, which he planted by the side of the 
 hall of Buddha, where a tree grew up to the height of about 
 two hundred cubits. As it bent on one side towards the south- 
 east, the king, fearing it would fall, propped it with a post eight 
 or nine spans around. The tree began to grow at the very 
 heart of the prop, where it met the trunk ; a shoot pierced 
 through the post, and went down to the ground, where it 
 entered and formed roots, that rose to the surface and were 
 about four spans round. Although the post was split in the 
 middle, the outer portions kept hold of the shoot, and people 
 did not remove them. Beneath the tree there has been built 
 a vihara, in which there is an image of Buddha seated, which 
 the monks and commonalty reverence and look up to without 
 ever becoming wearied. In the city there has been reared also 
 the vihara of Buddha's tooth, in which, as well as on the other, 
 the seven precious substances have been employed. 
 
 The king practises the Brahmanical purifications, and the 
 sincerity of the faith and reverence of the population inside the 
 city are also great. Since the establishment of government in 
 the kingdom there has been no famine or scarcity, no revolu- 
 tion or disorder. In the treasuries of the monkish communi- 
 ties there are many precious stones, and the priceless manis. 
 One of the kings once entered one of those treasuries, and 
 when he looked all round and saw the priceless pearls, his cov- 
 etous greed was excited, and he wished to take them to him- 
 
 • We naturally suppose that the mer- as Fa-hien had seen and used in his 
 chant-offerer was a Chinese, as indeed native land, 
 the Chinese texts say, and the fan such
 
 268 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 self by force. In three days, however, he came to himself, and 
 immediately went and bowed his head to the ground in the 
 midst of the monks, to show his repentance of the evil thought. 
 As a sequel to this, he informed the monks of what had been 
 in his mind, and desired them to make a regulation that from 
 that day forth the king should not be allowed to enter the treas- 
 ury and see what it contained, and that no bhikshu should 
 enter it till after he had been in orders for a period of full forty 
 years. 
 
 In the city there are many Vaisya elders and Sabaean mer- 
 chants, whose houses are stately and beautiful. The lanes and 
 passages are kept in good order. At the heads of the four 
 principal streets there have been built preaching halls, where, 
 on the eighth, fourteenth, and fifteenth days of the month, they 
 spread carpets, and set forth a pulpit, while the monks and 
 commonalty from all quarters come together to hear the Law. 
 The people say that in the kingdom there may be altogether 
 sixty thousand monks, who get their food from their common 
 stores. The king, besides, prepares elsewhere in the city a 
 common supply of food for five or six thousand more. When 
 any want, they take their great bowls, and go to the place of 
 distribution, and take as much as the vessels will hold, all re- 
 turning with them full. 
 
 The tooth of Buddha is always brought forth in the middle 
 of the third month. Ten days beforehand the king grandly 
 caparisons a large elephant, on which he mounts a man who 
 can speak distinctly, and is dressed in royal robes, to beat a 
 large drum, and make the following proclamation : " The 
 Bodhisattva, during three Asankhyeya-kalpas,^ manifested his 
 activity, and did not spare his own life. He gave up kingdom, 
 city, wnfe, and son ; he plucked out his eyes and gave them to 
 another ; he cut off a piece of his flesh to ransom the life of a 
 dove ; he cut off his head and gave it as an alms ; he gave his 
 body to feed a starving tigress ; he grudged not his marrow 
 and brains. In many such ways as these did he undergo pain 
 for the sake of all living. And so it was, that, having become 
 Buddha, he continued in the world for forty-five years, preach- 
 
 * A Kalpa, we have seen, denotes a dilations equal to one Inllowed by 
 
 (jreat period of time; a period during seventeen ciphers; accordinp to Thibe- 
 
 which a physical universe is formed and tan and .Singhalese, equal to one follow- 
 
 destroyed. Asankhyeya denotes the ed by ninety-seven ciphers. Every 
 
 highest sum for which a conventional Maha-kalpa consists of four Asankhye- 
 
 term exists — according to Chinese cal- yakalpas.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 269 
 
 ing his Law, teaching and transforming, so that those who had 
 no rest found rest, and the unconverted were converted. 
 When his connection with the hving was completed, he at- 
 tained to pari-nirvana and died. Since that event, for one 
 thousand four hundred and ninety-seven years, the hght of the 
 world has gone out, and all living things have had long-con- 
 tinued sadness. Behold ! ten days after this, Buddha's tooth 
 will be brought forth, and taken to the Abhayagiri-vihara. 
 Let all and each, whether monks or laics, who wish to amass 
 merit for themselves, make the roads smooth and in good con- 
 dition, grandly adorn the lanes and by-ways, and provide 
 abundant store of flowers and incense to be used as offerings 
 to it." 
 
 When this proclamation is over, the king exhibits, so as to 
 line both sides of the road, the five hundred different bodily 
 forms in which the Bodhisattva has in the course of his history 
 appeared : — here as Sudana, there as Sama ; now as the king of 
 elephants, and then as a stag or a horse. All these figures are 
 brightly colored and grandly executed, looking as if they were 
 alive. After this the tooth of Buddha is brought forth, and is 
 carried along in the middle of the road. Everywhere on the 
 way offerings are presented to it, and thus it arrives at the hall 
 of Buddha in the Abhayagiri-vihara. There monks and laics 
 are collected in crowds. They burn incense, light lamps, and 
 perform all the prescribed services, day and night without ceas- 
 ing, till ninety days have been completed, when the tooth is 
 returned to the vihara within the city. On fast-days the door 
 of that vihara is opened, and the forms of ceremonial reverence 
 are observed according to the rules. 
 
 Forty li to the east of the Abhayagiri-vihara there is a hill, 
 with a vihara on it, called the Chaitya, where there may be 
 two thousand monks. Among them there is a Sramana of 
 great virtue, named Dharma-gupta, honored and looked up to 
 by all the kingdom. He has lived for more than forty years 
 in an apartment of stone, constantly showing such gentleness 
 of heart, that he has brought snakes and rats to stop together 
 in the same room, without doing one another any harm.
 
 270 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 Cremation of an Arhat — Sermon of a Devotee 
 
 South of the city seven li there is a vihara, called the Maha- 
 vihara, where three thousand monks reside. There had been 
 among them a Sramana, of such lofty virtue, and so holy and 
 pure in his observance of the disciplinary rules, that the people 
 all surmised that he was an Arhat. When he drew near his 
 end, the king came to examine into the point ; and having as- 
 sembled the monks according to rule, asked whether the bhik- 
 shu had attained to the full degree of Wisdom. They an- 
 swered in the affirmative, saying that he was an Arhat. The 
 king accordingly, when he died, buried him after the fashion 
 of an Arhat, as the regular rules prescribed. Four or five li 
 east from the vihara there was reared a great pile of firewood, 
 which might be more than thirty cubits square, and the same 
 in height. Near the top were laid sandal, aloe, and other 
 kinds of fragrant wood. 
 
 On the four sides of the pile they made steps by which to 
 ascend it. With clean white hair-cloth, almost like silk, they 
 wrapped the body round and round. They made a large car- 
 riage-frame, in form like our funeral car, but without the 
 dragons and fishes. 
 
 At the time of the cremation, the king and the people, in 
 multitudes from all quarters, collected together, and presented 
 offerings of flowers and incense. While they were following 
 the car to the burial-ground, the king himself presented flowers 
 and incense. When this was finished, the car was lifted on the 
 pile, all over which oil of sweet basil was poured, and then a 
 light was applied. While the fire was blazing, every one, with 
 a reverent heart, pulled off his upper garment, and threw it, 
 with his feather-fan and umbrella, from a distance into the 
 midst of the flames, to assist the burning. When the crema- 
 tion was over, they collected and preserved the bones, and pro- 
 ceeded to erect a tope. Fa-hien had not arrived in time to see 
 the distinguished Shaman alive, and only saw his burial. 
 
 At that time the king, who was a sincere believer in the Law 
 of Buddha and wished to build a new vihara for the monks, 
 first convoked a great assembly. After giving the monks a
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 271 
 
 meal of rice, and presenting his offerings on the occasion, he 
 selected a pair of first-rate oxen, the horns of which were 
 grandly decorated with gold, silver, and the precious sub- 
 stances. A golden plough had been provided, and the king 
 himself turned up a furrow on the four sides of the ground 
 within which the building was to be. He then endowed the 
 community of the monks with the population, fields, and 
 houses, writing the grant on plates of metal, to the effect that 
 from that time onwards, from generation to generation, no 
 one should venture to annul or alter it. 
 
 In this country Fa-hien heard an Indian devotee, who was 
 reciting a Siitra from the pulpit, say : " Buddha's alms-bowl 
 was at first in Vaisali, and now it is in Gandhara. After so 
 many hundred years (he gave, when Fa-hien heard him, the 
 exact number of years, but he has forgotten it), it will go to 
 Western Tukhara ; after so many hundred years, to Khoten ; 
 after so many hundred years, to Kharachar ; after so many 
 hundred years, to the land of Han ; after so many hundred 
 years, it will come to Sinhala ; and after so many hundred years, 
 it will return to Central India. After that, it will ascend to the 
 Tushita heaven ; and when the Bodhisattva Maitreya sees it, 
 he will say with a sigh, ' The alms-bowl of Sakyamuni Buddha 
 is come " ; and with all the devas he will present to it flowers 
 and incense for seven days. When these have expired, it will 
 return to Jambudvipa, where it will be received by the king 
 of the sea nagas, and taken into his naga palace. When 
 Maitreya shall be about to attain to perfect Wisdom and be- 
 come Buddha, it will again separate into four bowls, which 
 will return to the top of mount Anna, whence they came. 
 After Maitreya has become Buddha, the four deva kings will 
 again think of the Buddha with their bowls as they did in the 
 case of the previous Buddha. The thousand Buddhas of this 
 Bhadra-kalpa, indeed, will all use the same alms-bowl ; and 
 when the bowl has disappeared, the Law of Buddha will go on 
 gradually to be extinguished. After that extinction has taken 
 place, the Hfe of man will be shortened, till it is only a period of 
 five years. During this period of a five years' life, rice, butter, 
 and oil will all vanish away, and men will become exceedingly 
 wicked. The grass and trees which they lay hold of will 
 change into swords and clubs, with which they will hurt, cut, 
 and kill one another. Those among them on whom there is
 
 272 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 blessing will withdraw from society among the hills ; and when 
 the wicked have exterminated one another, they will again 
 come forth, and say among themselves, ' The men of former 
 times enjoyed a very great longevity ; but through becoming 
 exceedingly wicked, and doing all lawless things, the length 
 of our life has been shortened and reduced even to five years. 
 Let us now unite together in the practice of what is good, cher- 
 ishing a gentle and sympathizing heart, and carefully cultivat- 
 ing good faith and righteousness. When each one in this 
 way practises that faith and righteousness, life will go on to 
 double its length till it reaches eighty thousand years. When 
 Maitreya appears in the world, and begins to turn the wheel 
 of this Law, he will in the first place save those among the dis- 
 ciples of the Law left by the Sakya who have quitted their fami- 
 lies, and those who have accepted the three Refuges, under- 
 taken the five Prohibitions and the eight Abstinences, and 
 given offerings to the Three Precious Ones ; secondly and 
 thirdly, he will save those between whom and conversion there 
 is a connection transmitted from the past.' "* 
 
 Such was the discourse, and Fa-hien wished to write it down 
 as a portion of doctrine ; but the man said, " This is taken from 
 no Sutra, it is only the utterance of my own mind." 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 After Two Years Fa-hien Takes Ship for China 
 
 Fa-hien abode in this country two years ; and, in addition 
 to his acquisitions in Patna, succeeded in getting a copy of the 
 Vinaya-pitaka of the Mahisasakah school ; the Dirghagama 
 and Samyuktagama Sutras ; and also the Samyukta-saiichaya- 
 pitaka ; — all being works unknown in the land of Han. Hav- 
 ing obtained these Sanscrit works, he took passage in a large 
 merchantman, on board of which there were more than two 
 hundred men, and to which was attached by a rope a smaller 
 vessel, as a provision against damage or injury to the large 
 one from the perils of the navigation. With a favorable wind, 
 they proceeded eastward for three days, and then they en- 
 countered a great wind. The vessel sprang a leak and the 
 
 • That is, those whose Karma in the past should be rewarded by such con- 
 version in the present.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 273 
 
 water came in. The merchants wished to go to the smaller 
 vessel ; but the men on board it, fearing that too many would 
 come, cut the connecting rope. The merchants were greatly 
 alarmed, feeling their risk of instant death. Afraid that the 
 vessel would fill, they took their bulky goods and threw them 
 into the water. Fa-hien also took his pitcher and washing- 
 basin, with some other articles, and cast them into the sea ; 
 but fearing that the merchants would cast overboard his books 
 and images, he could only think with all his heart of Kwan- 
 she-yin, and commit his life to the protection of the church of 
 the land of Han, saying in effect, " I have travelled far in search 
 of our Law. Let me, by your dread and supernatural power, 
 return from my wanderings, and reach my resting-place ! " 
 
 In this way the tempest continued day and night, till on the 
 thirteenth day the ship was carried to the side of an island, 
 where, on the ebbing of the tide, the place of the leak was dis- 
 covered, and it was stopped, on which the voyage was resumed. 
 On the sea hereabouts there are many pirates, to meet with 
 whom is speedy death. The great ocean spreads out, a bound- 
 less expanse. There is no knowing east or west ; only by ob- 
 serving the sun, moon, and stars was it possible to go forward. 
 If the weather were dark and rainy, the ship went as she was 
 carried by the wind, without any definite course. In the dark- 
 ness of the night, only the great waves were to be seen, break- 
 ing on one another, and emitting a brightness like that of fire, 
 with huge turtles and other monsters of the deep all about. 
 The merchants were full of terror, not knowing where they 
 were going. The sea was deep and bottomless, and there was 
 no place where they could drop anchor and stop. But when 
 the sky became clear, they could tell east and west, and the ship 
 again went forward in the right direction. If she had come 
 on any hidden rock, there would have been no way of escape. 
 
 After proceeding in this way for rather more than ninety 
 days, they arrived at a country called Java-dvipa, where vari- 
 ous forms of error and Brahmanism are flourishing, while 
 Buddhism in it is not worth speaking of. After staying there 
 for five months, Fa-hien again embarked in another large mer- 
 chantman, which also had on board more than two hundred 
 men. They carried provisions for fifty days, and commenced 
 the voyage on the sixteenth day of the fourth month. 
 
 Fa-hien kept his retreat on board the ship. They took a 
 Vol. IV.— 18
 
 274 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 course to the northeast, intending to fetch Kwang-chow. 
 After more than a month, when the night-drum had sounded 
 the second watch, they encountered a black wind and tempestu- 
 ous rain, which threw the merchants and passengers into con- 
 sternation. Fa-hien again, with all his heart, directed his 
 thoughts to Kwan-she-yin and the monkish communities of 
 the land of Han ; and, through their dread and mysterious pro- 
 tection, was preserved to daybreak. After daybreak, the 
 Brahmans deliberated together and said, " It is having this 
 Sramana on board which has occasioned our misfortune and 
 brought us this great and bitter suffering. Let us land the 
 bhikshu and place him on some island-shore. We must not 
 for the sake of one man allow ourselves to be exposed to such 
 imminent peril." A patron of Fa-hien, however, said to them, 
 " If you land the bhikshu, you must at the same time land me ; 
 and if you do not, then you must kill me. If you land this 
 Sramana, when I get to the land of Han, I will go to the king, 
 and inform against you. The king also reveres and believes 
 the Law of Buddha, and honors the bhikshus." The mer- 
 chants hereupon were perplexed, and did not dare immediately 
 to land Fa-hien. 
 
 At this time the sky continued very dark and gloomy, and 
 the sailing-masters looked at one another and made mistakes. 
 More than seventy days passed from their leaving Java, and 
 the provisions and water were nearly exhausted. They used 
 the salt-water of the sea for cooking, and carefully divided the 
 fresh water, each man getting two pints. Soon the whole was 
 nearly gone, and the merchants took counsel and said, " At the 
 ordinary rate of sailing we ought to have reached Kwang- 
 chow, and now the time is passed by many days ; — must we 
 not have held a wrong course? " Immediately they directed 
 the ship to the northwest, looking out for land ; and after sail- 
 ing day and night for twelve days, they reached the shore on 
 the south of mount Lao, on the borders of the prefecture of 
 Ch'ang-kwang, and immediately got good water and vegeta- 
 bles. They had passed through many perils and hardships, 
 and had been in a state of anxious apprehension for many days 
 together ; and now suddenly arriving at this shore, and seeing 
 those well-known vegetables, the lei and kwoh,^ they knew 
 
 ' What these vegetables exactly were kwoh, brings the two names together 
 
 it is difficult to sav; and there are dif- in a phrase, but the rendering of it is 
 
 ferent readings of the characters for simply " a soup of simples." 
 them. Williams' Dictionary, under
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 275 
 
 indeed that it was the land of Han. Not seeing, however, any 
 inhabitants nor any traces of them, they did not know where- 
 abouts they were. Some said that they had not yet got to 
 Kwang-cliow, and others that they had passed it. Unable to 
 come to a definite conclusion, some of them got into a small 
 boat and entered a creek, to look for someone of whom they 
 might ask what the place was. They found two hunters, whom 
 they brought back with them, and then called on Fa-hien to 
 act as interpreter and question them. Fa-hien first spoke as- 
 suringly to them, and then slowly and distinctly asked them, 
 " Who are you?" They replied, " We are disciples of Bud- 
 dha." He then asked, " What are you looking for among 
 these hills?" They began to lie,- and said, "To-morrow is 
 the fifteenth day of the seventh month. We wanted to get 
 some peaches to present to Buddha." He asked further, 
 "What country is this?" They replied, "This is the border 
 of the prefecture of Ch'ang-kwang, a part of Ts'ing-chow 
 under the ruling House of Ts'in." When they heard this, the 
 merchants were glad, immediately asked for a portion of their 
 money and goods, and sent men to Ch'ang-kwang city. 
 
 The prefect Le E was a reverent believer in the Law of Bud- 
 dha. When he heard that a .^ramana had arrived in a ship 
 across the sea, bringing with him books and images, he imme- 
 diately came to the sea-shore with an escort to meet the travel- 
 ler, and receive the books and images, and took them back 
 with him to the seat of his government. On this the mer- 
 chants went back in the direction of Yang-chow ; but when 
 Fa-hien arrived at Ts'ing-chow, the prefect there begged him 
 to remain with him for a winter and a summer. After the 
 summer retreat was ended, Fa-hien, having been separated for 
 a long time from his fellows, wished to hurry to Ch'ang-gan ; 
 but as the business which he had in hand was important, he 
 went south to the Capital ; and at an interview with the masters 
 there exhibited the Siitras and the collection of the Vinaya 
 which he had procured. 
 
 After Fa-hien set out from Ch'ang-gan, it took him six years 
 to reach Central India ; stoppages there extended over six 
 
 * It is likely that these men were But what had disciples of Buddha to do 
 
 really hunters; and, when brought be- with hunting and taking life? They 
 
 fore Fa-hien, because he was a Sramana, were caught in their own trap, and said 
 
 they thought they would please him by they were looking for peacties. 
 saying they were disciples of Buddha.
 
 276 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 
 
 years; and on his return it took him three years to reach 
 Ts'ing-chovv. The countries through which he passed were 
 a few under thirty. From the sandy desert westwards on to 
 India, the beauty of the dignified demeanor of the monkhood 
 and of the transforming influence of the Law was beyond the 
 power of language fully to describe ; and reflecting how our 
 masters had not heard any complete account of them, he there- 
 fore went on without regarding his own poor life, or the dan- 
 gers to be encountered on the sea upon his return, thus incur- 
 ring hardships and difficulties in a double form. He was 
 fortunate enough, through the dread power of the three 
 Honored Ones, to receive help and protection in his perils ; 
 and therefore he wrote out an account of his experiences, that 
 worthy readers might share with him in what he had heard and 
 said.
 
 THE TRAVELS OF FA-HIEN 277 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 By an Unknozvn Writer. 
 
 It was in the year Keah-yin, the twelfth year of the period E- 
 he of the Eastern Ts'in dynasty, the year-star being in Virgo- 
 Libra, in the summer, at the close of the period of retreat, that 
 1 met the devotee Fa-hien. On his arrival I lodged him with 
 myself in the winter study, and there, in our meetings for con- 
 versation, I asked him again and again about his travels. The 
 man was modest and complaisant, and answered readily ac- 
 cording to the truth. I thereupon advised him to enter into 
 details where he had at first only given a summary, and he 
 proceeded to relate all things in order from the beginning to 
 the end. He said himself, " When I look back on what I have 
 gone through, my heart is involuntarily moved, and the per- 
 spiration flows forth. That I encountered danger and trod the 
 most perilous places, without thinking of or sparing myself, 
 was because I had a definite aim, and thought of nothing but 
 to do my best in my simplicity and straightforwardness. Thus 
 it was that I exposed my life where death seemed inevitable, 
 if I might accomplish but a ten-thousandth part of what I 
 hoped." These words affected me in turn, and I thought: — 
 This man is one of those who have seldom been seen from 
 ancient times to the present. Since the Great Doctrine flowed 
 on to the East there has been no one to be compared with 
 Hien in his forgetfulness of self and search for the Law. 
 Henceforth I know that the influence of sincerity finds no ob- 
 stacle, however great, which it does not overcome, and that 
 force of will does not fail to accomplish whatever service it 
 undertakes. Does not the accomplishing of such service arise 
 from forgetting and disregarding what is generally considered 
 as important, and attaching importance to what is generally 
 forgotten ?
 
 THE SORROWS OF HAN 
 
 [Translated into English by John Francis Davis]
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 " '' I ^HE Sorrows of Han " is considered by Chinese schol- 
 I ars to be one of the largest tragedies in the whole 
 range of the Chinese drama, which is very vokinii- 
 nous. Although, properly speaking, there are no theatres in 
 China, the Chinese are passionately fond of dramatic represen- 
 tations. Chinese acting is much admired and praised by travel- 
 lers who are competent to follow the dialogue. The stage is 
 generally a temporary erection improvised in a market-place, 
 and the stage arrangements are of the most primitive character ; 
 no scenery is employed, and the actors introduce themselves in 
 a sort of prologue, in which they state the name and character 
 they represent in the drama. They also indicate the place where 
 they are in the story, or the house which they have entered. 
 Yet the Chinese stage has many points in common with that of 
 Ancient Greece. It is supported and controlled by govern- 
 ment, and has something of a religious and national character, 
 being particularly employed for popular amusement in the cel- 
 ebration of religious festivals. Only two actors are allowed to 
 occupy the stage at the same time, and this is another point in 
 common with the early Greek drama. The plots or stories of 
 the Chinese plays are simple and effective, and Voltaire is 
 known to have taken the plot of a Chinese drama, as Moliere 
 took a comedy of Plautus, and applied it in writing a drama for 
 the modern French stage. " The Sorrows of Han " belongs 
 to the famous collection entitled " The Hundred Plays of the 
 Yuen Dynasty." It is divided into acts and is made up of al- 
 ternate prose and verse. The movement of the drama is good, 
 and the denouement arranged with considerable skill. 
 
 E. W. 
 
 281
 
 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 
 
 THE following drama was selected from the " Hundred 
 Plays of Yuen," which has already supplied to Europe 
 two specimens of the Chinese stage — the first, called 
 the " Orphan of Chaou," translated by Pere Premare ; and the 
 second, entitled an '' Heir in Old Age," by the author of the 
 present version. " The Sorrows of Han " is historical, and 
 relates to one of the most interesting periods of the Chinese 
 annals, when the growing effeminacy of the court, and con- 
 sequent weakness of the government, emboldened the Tartars 
 in their aggressions, and first gave rise to the temporizing and 
 impolitic system of propitiating those barbarians by tribute, 
 which long after produced the downfall of the empire and 
 the establishment of the Mongol dominion. 
 
 The moral of the piece is evidently to expose the evil con- 
 sequences of luxury, effeminacy, and supineness in the sover- 
 eign. 
 
 " When love was all an easy monarch's care, 
 Seldom at council — never in a war." 
 
 The hero, or rather the chief personage, of the drama, came 
 to the throne very near the beginning of the Christian era, 
 about B.C. 42. The fate of the Lady Chaoukeun is a favorite 
 incident in history, of which painters, poets, and romancers 
 frequently avail themselves ; her " Verdant Lamb " is said to 
 exist at the present day, and to remain green all the year 
 round, while the vegetation of the desert in which it stands 
 is parched by the summer sun. 
 
 In selecting this single specimen from among so many, the 
 translator was influenced by the consideration of its remark- 
 able accordance with our own canons of criticism. The Chi- 
 nese themselves make no regular classification of comedy and 
 tragedy ; but we are quite at liberty to give the latter title to 
 
 283
 
 284 THE SORROWS OF HAN 
 
 a play which so completely answers to the European definition. 
 The unity of action is complete, and the unities of time and 
 place much less violated than they frequently are on our own 
 stage. The grandeur and gravity of the subject, the rank and 
 dignity of the personages, the tragical catastrophe, and the 
 strict award of poetical justice, might satisfy the most rigid 
 admirer of Grecian rules. The translator has thought it neces- 
 sary to adhere to the original by distinguishing the first act (or 
 Proem) from the four which follow it: but the distinction is 
 purely nominal, and the piece consists, to all intents and pur- 
 poses, of five acts. It is remarkable that this peculiar division 
 holds true with regard to a large number of the " Hundred 
 Plays of Yuen." 
 
 The reader will doubtless be struck by the apparent short- 
 ness of the drama which is here presented to him ; but the 
 original is eked out, in common with all Chinese plays, by an 
 irregular operatic species of song, which the principal char- 
 acter occasionally chants forth in unison with a louder or a 
 softer accompaniment of music, as may best suit the sentiment 
 or action of the moment. Some passages have been embodied 
 in our version : but the translator did not give all, for the 
 same reasons that prompted Pere Premare to give none — 
 " they are full of allusions to things unfamiliar to us, and 
 figures of speech very difficult for us to observe." They are 
 frequently, moreover, mere repetitions or amplifications of the 
 prose parts ; and being intended more for the ear than the 
 eye, are rather adapted to the stage than to the closet. 
 
 His judgment may perhaps be swayed by partiality towards 
 the subject of his own labors ; but the translator cannot help 
 thinking the plot and incidents of " The Sorrows of Han " su- 
 perior to those of the " Orphan of Chaou " — though the genius 
 of Voltaire contrived to make the last the ground-work of an 
 excellent French tragedy. Far is he, however, from entertain- 
 ing the presumptuous expectation that a destiny of equal 
 splendor awaits the present drama ; and he will be quite satis- 
 fied if the reader has patience to read it to the end, and then 
 pronounces it to be a somewhat curious sample of a very for- 
 eign literature. 
 
 JOHN FRANCIS DAVIS.
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONS 
 
 YuENTE, Emperor of China of the Dynasty Han. 
 Hanchenyu, K'han of the Tartars. 
 Maouyenshow, a worthless Minister of the Emperor. 
 Shangshoo (a title), President of the Imperial Council. 
 Changshee (a title), Officer in waiting. 
 Fanshe (a title), Envoy of the K'han. 
 Chaoukeun, Lady, raised to be Princess of Han. 
 Tartar Soldiers, Female Attendants, Eunuchs. 
 
 The Scene is laid in the Tartar Camp on the Frontiers; and 
 in the Palace of Han.
 
 THE SORROWS OF HAN* 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 Enter Hanchenyu, K'han f of the Tartars, reciting four verses. 
 
 K'han. Tlie autumnal gale blows wildly through the grass, 
 
 amidst our woolen tents. 
 And the moon of night, shining on the rude huts, hears the 
 
 lament of the mournful pipe : 
 The countless hosts, with their bended horns, obey me as 
 
 their leader. 
 Our tribes are ten distinguished friends of the family of 
 Han. I am Hanchenyu, the old inhabitant of the sandy 
 waste ; the sole ruler of the northern regions. The wild 
 chase is our trade ; battle and conquest our chief occupa- 
 tion. The Emperor Wunwong retired before our Eastern 
 tribes ; Weikeang trembled at us, and sued for our friend- 
 ship. The ancient title of our chiefs has in the course of 
 time been changed to that which I now bear. When the two 
 races of Tsin and Han contended in battle, and filled the 
 empire with tumult, our tribes were in full power : number- 
 less was the host of armed warriors with their bended 
 horns. For seven days my ancestor hemmed in with his 
 forces the Emperor Kaoute ; until, by the contrivance of 
 the minister, a treaty was concluded, and the Princesses of 
 China were yielded in marriage to our K'hans. Since the 
 time of Hoeyte and the Empress Leuhow,J each successive 
 generation has adhered to the established rule, and sought 
 our alliance with its daughters. In the reign of the late 
 
 * Han Koong Tsew, literally " Au- t In Chinese, Ko-han. 
 
 tumn in the Palace of Han"; but in t The mother of Hoeyte, a bold and 
 
 Chinese, Autumn is emblematic of able woman, who ruled for her son, the 
 
 Sorrow, as Spring is of Joy, and may second emperor of Han. 
 therefore be rendered by what it repre- 
 sents. 
 
 287
 
 288 THE SORROWS OF HAN 
 
 Emperor Senente, my brothers contended with myself for 
 the rule of our nation, and its power was weakened until 
 the tribes elected me as their chief. I am a real descendant 
 of the empire of Han. I command a hundred thousand 
 armed warriors. We have moved to the South, and ap- 
 proached the border, claiming an alliance with the Im- 
 perial race. Yesterday I despatched an envoy with tribu- 
 tary presents to demand a princess in marriage ; but know 
 not if the Emperor will ratify the engagement with the 
 customary oaths. The fineness of the season has drawn 
 away our chiefs on a hunting excursion amidst the sandy 
 steppes. May they meet with success, for we Tartars 
 have no fields — our bows and arrows are our sole means 
 of subsistence. 
 
 Enter Minister of Han, reciting verses. 
 
 Minister. Let a man have the heart of a kite, and the talons 
 
 of an eagle. 
 Let him deceive his superiors, and oppress those below 
 
 him ; 
 Let him enlist flattery, insinuation, profligacy, and avarice 
 
 on his side, 
 And he will find them a lasting assistance through life. 
 I am no other than Maouyenshow, a minister of the 
 sovereign of Han. By a hundred arts of specious flat- 
 tery and address I have deceived the Emperor, until he 
 places his whole delight in me alone. My words he 
 listens to; and he follows my counsel. Within the pre- 
 cincts of the palace, as without them, who is there but 
 bows before me — who is there but trembles at my ap- 
 proach? But observe the chief art which I have learned: 
 It is this: to persuade the Emperor to keep aloof from 
 his wise counsellors, and seek all his pleasures amidst the 
 women of his palace. Thus it is that I strengthen my 
 power and greatness. But, in the midst of my lucubrations 
 — Here comes the Emperor. 
 
 Enter Emperor Yuente, attended by Eunuchs and Women. 
 
 Emperor [recites verses]. During the ten generations that 
 have succeeded our acquisition of Empire, my race has
 
 THE SORROWS OF HAN 289 
 
 alone possessed the four hundred districts of the world. 
 Long have the frontiers been bound in tranquillity by the 
 ties of mutual oaths. 
 
 And our pillow has been undisturbed by grief or anxiety. 
 Behold in us the Emperor Yuente, of the race of Han. 
 Our ancestor Kaoute emerged from a private station, and 
 raised his family by extinguishing the dynasty of Tsin, and 
 slaughtering their race. Ten generations have passed 
 away since he left this inheritance to us. The four boun- 
 daries of the empire have been tranquil ; the eight regions 
 at rest ! But not through our personal merits ; we have 
 wholly depended on the exertions of our civil and military 
 rulers. On the demise of our late father, the female in- 
 mates of the palace were all dispersed, and our harem 
 is now solitary and untenanted ; but how shall this be en- 
 dured ! 
 
 Minister. Consider, sir, that even the thriving husbandman 
 may desire to change his partner ; then why not your 
 Majesty, whose title is the Law of Heaven, whose pos- 
 sessions are the w^hole world ! May I advise that com- 
 missioners be despatched to search throughout the empire 
 for all of whatever rank that is most beautiful between 
 the ages of fifteen and twenty, for the peopling of the 
 inner palace. 
 
 Emperor. You say well. We appoint you at once our min- 
 ister of selection, and will invest you with a written au- 
 thority. Search diligently through our realms ; and when 
 you have selected the most worthy, let us be provided with 
 portraits of each, as a means of fixing our choice. By the 
 merits of your services, you may supply us with an occa- 
 sion of rewarding you on your return. [Exeunt. 
 Vol. IV.— 19
 
 ACT FIRST 
 
 Minister [repeats verses]. The huge ingots of yellow gold I 
 
 appropriate to myself. 
 I heed not the seas of blood which flow by perverting the 
 
 laws. 
 During life I am determined to have abundance of riches ; 
 what care I for the curses of mankind after my death? 
 Having received the Emperor's commission to search far 
 and wide for the most beautiful damsels, I have fixed upon 
 ninety and nine. Their families were glad to invite my 
 selection by rich gifts, and the treasure that I have 
 amassed is not small. On arriving yesterday at a district 
 pertaining to Chingtoo city, I met with a maiden, daughter 
 of one Wongchang. The brightness of her charms was 
 piercing as an arrow. She was perfectly beautiful — and 
 doubtless unparalleled in the whole empire. But, unfor- 
 tunately, her father is a cultivator of the land, not pos- 
 sessed of much wealth. When I insisted on a hundred 
 ounces of gold to secure her being the chief object of the 
 imperial choice, they first pleaded their poverty — and then, 
 relying on her extraordinary beauty, rejected my offers 
 altogether. I therefore left them. [Considers awhile.] 
 
 But no! 1 have a better plan. [He knits his brows 
 
 and matures his scheme.] I will disfigure her portrait in 
 such a manner that when it reaches the Emperor it shall 
 secure her being doomed to neglected seclusion. Thus I 
 shall contrive to make her unhappy for life — Base is the 
 man who delights not in revenge ! [Exit. 
 
 Night. — Enter the Lady Chaoiikeiin, with two female attend- 
 ants. 
 
 Chaoukeun [recites verses]. Though raised to be an inhabi- 
 tant of the imperial dwelling 
 290
 
 THE SORROWS OF HAN 
 
 291 
 
 I have long been here without the good fortune to see 
 
 my prince. 
 This beautiful night must I pass in lonely solitude, 
 With no companion but my lute to solace my retirement. 
 I am a native of Chingtoo city ; and my father's occupa- 
 tion is husbandry. My mother dreamed on the day I was 
 born that the light of the moon shone on her bosom, but 
 was soon cast low to the earth.* I was just eighteen years 
 of age when chosen as an inhabitant of the imperial palace ; 
 but the minister Maouyenshow, disappointed in the treas- 
 ure which he demanded on my account, disfigured my 
 portrait in such a manner as to keep me out of the Em- 
 peror's presence ; and now I live in neglected solitude. 
 While at home, I learned a little music, and could play 
 a few airs on the lute. Thus sorrowing in the stillness of 
 midnight, let me practise one of my songs to dispel my 
 griefs. [Begins to play on the lute. 
 
 Enter Emperor, attended by a Eunuch, carrying a light. 
 
 Emperor. Since the beauties were selected to grace our palace, 
 we have not yet discovered a worthy object on whom to 
 fix our preference. Vexed and disappointed, we pass this 
 day of leisure roaming in search of her who may be des- 
 tined for our imperial choice. [Hears the lute.] Is not 
 that some lady's lute? 
 
 Attendant. It is. — I hasten to advise her of your Majesty's 
 approach. 
 
 Emperor. No, hold! Keeper of the yellow gate, discover to 
 what part of our palace that lady pertains; and bid her 
 approach our presence ; but beware lest you alarm her. 
 
 Attendant [approaches in the direction of the sound, and 
 speaks]. What lady plays there? The Emperor comes! 
 approach to meet him. [Lady advances. 
 
 Emperor. Keeper of the yellow gate, see that the light burns 
 brightly within your gauze f lamp, and hold it nearer to 
 us. 
 
 Lady [approaching]. Had your handmaid but known it was 
 your Majesty, she would have been less tardy; forgive, 
 then, this delay. 
 
 • Boding a short but fatal distinction f Instead of glass, to defend it from 
 
 to her offspring. the wind.
 
 292 THE SORROWS OF HAN 
 
 Emperor. Truly this is a very perfect beauty! From what 
 quarter come such superior charms ? 
 
 Lady. My name is Chaoukeun : my father cultivates at Ching- 
 too the fields which he has derived from his family. Born 
 in an humble station, I am ignorant of the manners that 
 befit a palace. 
 
 Emperor. But with such uncommon attractions, what chance 
 has kept you from our sight ? 
 
 Lady. When I was chosen by the minister Maouyenshow, he 
 demanded of my father an amount of treasure which our 
 poverty could not supply ; he therefore disfigured my por- 
 trait, by representing a scar under the eyes, and caused 
 me to be consigned to seclusion and neglect. 
 
 Emperor. Keeper of the yellow gate, bring us that picture, 
 that we may view it. [Sees the pichtre.] Ah, how has 
 he dimmed the purity of the gem, bright as the waves in 
 autumn. [To the attendant.] Transmit our pleasure to 
 the officer of the guard, to behead Maouyenshow and re- 
 port to us his execution. 
 
 Lady. My parents, sir, are subject to the tax * in our native 
 district. Let me entreat your Majesty to remit their con- 
 tributions and extend favor towards them ! 
 
 Emperor. That shall readily be done. Approach and hear our 
 imperial pleasure. We create you a Princess of our palace. 
 
 Lady. How unworthy is your handmaid of such gracious dis- 
 tinction ! [Goes through the form of returning thanks.] 
 Early to-morrow I attend your Majesty's commands in 
 this place. The Emperor is gone : let the attendants close 
 the doors: — I will retire to rest. [E.vit. 
 
 * The principal taxes in China are the source of much oppression to the lowest 
 land-tax, customs, salt monopoly, and orders, who have nothing but their la- 
 personal service; which last is the bor to contribute.
 
 ACT SECOND 
 
 Enter K'han of the Tartars, at the head of his Tribes. 
 
 K'han. I lately sent an envoy to the sovereign of Han, with 
 the demand of a princess in marriage ; but the Emperor 
 has returned a refusal, under the plea that the princess is 
 yet too young. This answer gives me great trouble. Had 
 he not plenty of ladies in his palace, of whom he might 
 have sent me one? The difference was of little conse- 
 quence.* Let me recall my envoy with all speed, for I 
 must invade the South with out forces. And yet I am 
 unwilling to break a truce of so many years' standing ! 
 We must see how matters turn out, and be guided by the 
 event. 
 
 Enter Minister of Han. 
 
 Minister. The severity with which I extorted money, in the 
 selection of beauties for the palace, led me to disfigure 
 the picture of Chaoukeun, and consign her to neglected 
 seclusion. But the Emperor fell in with her, obtained the 
 truth, and condemned me to lose my head. I contrived 
 to make my escape — though I have no home to receive 
 me. I will take this true portrait of Chaoukeun and show 
 it to the Tartar K'han, persuading him to demand her 
 from the Emperor, who will no doubt be obliged to yield 
 her up. A long journey has brought me to this spot, and 
 from the troops of men and horses I conclude I have 
 reached the Tartar camp. {Addresses himself to some- 
 body. '\ Leader, inform King Hanchenyu that a great 
 minister of the empire of Han is come to wait on him. 
 
 K'han [on being informed']. Command him to approach. 
 [Seeing Maouyenshow.] What person are you? 
 
 Minister. I am a minister of Han. In the western palace of 
 the Emperor is a lady, named Chaoukeun, of rare and sur- 
 
 * The honor of the imperial alliance being the chief object. 
 293
 
 294 THE SORROWS OF HAN 
 
 passing charins. When your envoy, great king, came to 
 demand a princess, this lady would have answered the 
 summons, but the Emperor of Han could not bring himself 
 to part with her, and refused to yield her up. I repeatedly 
 renewed my bitter reproaches, and asked how he could 
 bear, for the sake of a woman's beauty, to implicate the 
 welfare of two nations. For this the Emperor would have 
 beheaded me; and I therefore escaped with the portrait 
 of the lady, which I present, great king, to yourself. 
 Should you send away an envoy with the picture to de- 
 mand her, she must certainly be delivered up. Here is the 
 portrait. [Hands it up. 
 
 K'han. Whence could so beautiful a female have appeared 
 in the world ! If I can only obtain her, my wishes are com- 
 plete. Immediately shall an envoy be despatched, and my 
 ministers prepare a letter to the Emperor of Han, de- 
 manding her in marriage as the condition of peace. 
 Should he refuse, I will presently invade the South : his 
 hills and rivers shall be exposed to ravage. Our warriors 
 will commence by hunting, as they proceed on their way ; 
 and thus gradually entering the frontiers, I shall be ready 
 to act as may best suit the occasion. [Exit. 
 
 The Palace of Han. Enter Lady, attended by females. 
 
 Princess. A long period has elapsed since I had to thank his 
 Majesty for his choice. The Emperor's fondness for me 
 is so great, that he has still neglected to hold a court. I 
 hear he is now gone to the hall of audience, and will there- 
 fore ornament myself at my toilet and be ready to wait 
 on him at his return. [Stands opposite a mirror. 
 
 Enter Emperor. 
 
 Emperor. Since we first met with Chaoukeun in the western 
 palace, we have been as it were deranged and intoxicated ; 
 a long interval has elapsed since we held a court; and 
 on entering the hall of audience this day, we waited not 
 until the assembly had dispersed, but returned hither to 
 obtain a sight of her. [Perceiving the Princess.] Let us 
 not alarm her, but observe in secret what she is doing.
 
 THE SORROWS OF HAN 295 
 
 [Co7ncs close behind and looks over her.] Reflected in 
 that round mirror, she resembles the Lady in the Moon.* 
 
 Enter President, and an OiUcer in zvaiting. 
 
 President [recites verses]. Ministers should devote them- 
 selves to the regulation of the empire ; 
 They should be occupied with public cares in the hall of 
 
 government. 
 But they do nought but attend at the banquets in the palace. 
 When have they employed a single day in the service of 
 
 their prince ? 
 This day, when the audience was concluded, an envoy 
 arrived from the Tartars to demand Chaoukeun in mar- 
 riage, as the only condition of peace. It is my duty to 
 report this to his Majesty, who has retired to his western 
 palace. Here I must enter. [Perceiving the Emperor.] 
 I report to your Majesty that Hanchenyu, the leader of 
 the northern foreigners, sends an envoy to declare that 
 Maouyenshow has presented to him the portrait of the 
 princess, and that he demands her in marriage as the only 
 condition of peace. If refused, he will invade the South 
 with a great power, and our rivers and hills will be ex- 
 posed to rapine. 
 
 Emperor. In vain do we maintain and send forth armies ; vain 
 are the crowds of civil and military officers about our 
 palace! Which of them will drive back for us these for- 
 eign troops? They are all afraid of the Tartar swords 
 and arrows ! But if they cannot exert themselves to expel 
 the barbarians, why call for the princess to propitiate them ? 
 
 President. The foreigners say that through your Majesty's 
 devoted fondness for the princess, the affairs of your em- 
 pire are falling into ruin. They declare that if the gov- 
 ernment does not yield her up, they will put their army 
 in motion, and subdue the country. Your servant reflects, 
 that Chow-wongf who lost his empire and life entirely 
 through his blind devotion to Takee, is a fit example to 
 warn your Majesty. Our army is weak, and needs the 
 
 * Changngo, the goddess of the moon, t Chow-wong was the last of the 
 
 gives her name to the finely curved eye- Shang dynasty, and infamous by his 
 
 brows of the Chinese ladies, which are debaucheries and cruelties, in concert 
 
 compared to the lunar crescent when with his empress Takee, the Theodora 
 
 only a day or two old. of Chinese history.
 
 296 THE SORROWS OF HAN 
 
 talents of a fit general. Should we oppose the Tartars, 
 and be defeated, what will remain to us? Let your 
 Majesty give up your fondness for the princess, to save 
 your people. 
 
 Officer. The envoy waits without for an audience. 
 
 Emperor. Well ; command that he approach us. 
 
 Enter Envoy. 
 
 Envoy. Hanchenyu, K'han of the Tartars, sends me, his min- 
 ister, to state before the great Sovereign of Han, that the 
 Northern tribes and the Southern empire have long been 
 bound in peace by mutual alliances ; but that envoys being 
 twice sent to demand a princess, his requisitions have been 
 refused. The late minister, Maouyenshow, took with him 
 the portrait of a beautiful lady, and presented it to the 
 K'han, who now sends me, his envoy, on purpose to de- 
 mand the Lady Chaoukeun, and no other, as the only con- 
 dition of peace between the two nations. Should your 
 Majesty refuse, the K'han has a countless army of brave 
 warriors, and will forthwith invade the South to try the 
 chances of war. I trust your Majesty will not err in your 
 decision. 
 
 Emperor. The envoy may retire to repose himself in his lodg- 
 ing. [Exit the Envoy.^ Let our civil and military officers 
 consult, and report to us the best mode of causing the for- 
 eign troops to retire, without yielding up the princess to 
 propitiate them. They take advantage of the compliant 
 softness of her temper. Were the Empress Leuhow alive 
 — let her utter a word — which of them would dare to be 
 of a dififerent opinion ? It would seem that, for the future, 
 instead of men for ministers, we need only have fair 
 women to keep our empire in peace. 
 
 Princess. In return for your Majesty's bounties, it is your 
 handmaid's duty to brave death to serve you. I can 
 cheerfully enter into this foreign alliance, for the sake of 
 producing peace, and shall leave behind me a name still 
 green in history. — But my affection for your Majesty, 
 how am I to lay aside ! 
 
 Emperor. Alas, I * know too well that I can do no more than 
 yourself ! 
 
 • The imperial pronoun " Tchin," me, is with very good taste supplied by / io 
 these impassioned passages.
 
 THE SORROWS OF HAN 
 
 *97 
 
 President. I entreat your Majesty to sacrifice your love, and 
 think of the security of your Dynasty. Hasten, sir, to send 
 the princess on her way! 
 
 Emperor. Let her this day advance a stage on her journey, 
 and be presented to the envoy. — To-morrow we will repair 
 as far as the bridge of Pahling, and give her a parting 
 feast. 
 
 President. Alas! Sir, this may not be! It will draw on us 
 the contempt of these barbarians. 
 
 Emperor. We have complied with all our minister's proposi- 
 tions — shall they not, then, accede to ours? Be it as it 
 may, we will witness her departure — and then return home 
 to hate the traitor Maouyenshow ! 
 
 President. Unwillingly we advise that the princess be sacri- 
 ficed for the sake of peace ; but the envoy is instructed to 
 insist upon her alone — and from ancient times, how often 
 hath a nation suflFered for a woman's beauty ! 
 
 Princess. Though I go into exile for the nation's good, yet ill 
 can I bear to part from your Majesty ! [Exeunt.
 
 ACT THIRD 
 
 Enter Envoy, escorting the Princess, with a band of music. 
 
 Princess. Thus was I, in spite of the treachery of Maouyen- 
 show, who disfigured my portrait, seen and exalted by 
 his Majesty ; but the traitor presented a truer Hkeness to 
 the Tartar king, who comes at the head of an army to 
 demand me, with a threat of seizing the country. There 
 is no remedy — I must be yielded up to propitiate the in- 
 vaders! How shall I bear the rigors — the winds and 
 frosts of that foreign land ! It has been said of old, that 
 " surpassing beauty is often coupled with an unhappy 
 fate." Let me grieve, then, without entertaining fruitless 
 resentment at the effects of my own attractions. 
 
 Enter Emperor, attended by his several oMcers. 
 
 Emperor. This day we take leave of the princess at Pahling 
 bridge! [To his ministers.] Can ye not devise a way to 
 send out these foreign troops, without yielding up the 
 princess for the sake of peace? [Descends from his horse 
 and seems to grieve zvith Chaoukeun.] Let our attend- 
 ants delay awhile, till we have conferred the parting cup. 
 
 Envoy. Lady, let us urge you to proceed on your way — the 
 sky darkens, and night is coming on. 
 
 Princess. Alas! when shall I again behold your Majesty? I 
 will take off my robes of distinction and leave them be- 
 hind me. To-day in the palace of Han — to-morrow I 
 shall be espoused to a stranger. I cease to wear these 
 splendid vestments — they shall no longer adorn my beauty 
 in the eyes of men. 
 
 Envoy. Again let us urge you, princess, to depart; we have 
 delayed but too long already ! 
 
 Emperor. 'Tis done ! — Princess, when you are gone, let your 
 thoughts forbear to dwell with sorrow and resentment 
 
 298
 
 THE SORROWS OF HAN 
 
 299 
 
 Upon us! [They part.] And am I the great Monarch of 
 the Hne of Han? 
 
 President. Let your Majesty cease to dwell with such grief 
 upon this subject ! 
 
 Emperor. She is gone ! In vain have we maintained those 
 armed heroes on the frontier.* Mention but swords and 
 spears, and they tremble at their hearts like a young deer. 
 The princess has this day performed what belonged to 
 themselves : and yet they affect the semblance of men ! 
 
 President. Your Majesty is entreated to return to the palace : 
 dwell not so bitterly, Sir, on her memory: — allow her to 
 depart ! 
 
 Emperor. Did I not think of her, I had a heart of iron — a 
 heart of iron ! The tears of my grief stream in thousand 
 channels — this evening shall her likeness be suspended in 
 the palace, where I will sacrifice to it — and tapers with 
 their silver lights shall illuminate her chamber. 
 
 President. Let your Majesty return to the palace — the prin- 
 cess is already far distant! [Exeunt. 
 
 The Tartar Camp. Enter K'han at the head of his tribes, lead- 
 ing in the Princess. 
 
 K'han. The Emperor of Han having now, in observance of 
 old treaties, yielded up to me the Lady Chaoukeun in mar- 
 riage, I take her as my rightful queen. The two nations 
 shall enjoy the benefits of peace. [To his generals.] 
 Leaders, transmit my commands to the army to strike our 
 encampment, and proceed to the north. [They march. 
 
 The river Anwor.\ Tartar army on its march. 
 
 Princess. What place is this? 
 
 Envoy. It is the River of the Black Dragon, the frontier of 
 
 the Tartar territories and those of China. This southern 
 
 shore is the Emperor's; on the northern side commences 
 
 our Tartar dominion. 
 Princess [to the K'han]. Great King, I take a cup of wine, 
 
 and pour a libation towards the South — my last farewell 
 
 * It may be observed that the great at this time, but the real frontier was 
 
 wall is never once expressly mentioned beyond it. 
 
 through this drama. The expression t Or Saghalien, which falls into the 
 
 used is Peensih. the border, or frontier. sea of Ochotsk. 
 The wall had existed two hundred years
 
 300 THE SORROWS OF HAN 
 
 to the Emperor — [pours the libation] of Han, this Hfe is 
 finished. I await thee in the next ! 
 
 [Throzvs herself into the river. The K'han, in great consterna- 
 tion, endeavors to save her, hut in vain. 
 
 K'han. Alas! alas! — so determined was her purpose against 
 this foreign alliance — she has thrown herself into the 
 stream, and perished ! 'Tis done, and remediless ! Let 
 her sepulchre be on this river's bank, and be it called " the 
 verdant tomb." * She is no more ; and vain has been 
 our enmity with the dynasty of Han ! The traitor Maou- 
 yenshow was the author of all this misery. [To an of- 
 ficer.] Take Maouyenshow and let him be delivered over 
 to the Emperor for punishment. I will return to our 
 former friendship with the dynasty of Han. We will re- 
 new and long preserve the sentiments of relationship. The 
 traitor disfigured the portrait to injure Chaoukeun — then 
 deserted his sovereign, and stole over to me, whom he 
 prevailed on to demand the lady in marriage. How little 
 did I think that she would thus precipitate herself into 
 the stream, and perish ! — In vain did my spirit melt at the 
 sight of her ! But if I detained this profligate and traitor- 
 ous rebel, he would certainly prove to us a root of mis- 
 fortune: it is better to deliver him for his reward to the 
 Emperor of Han, with whom I will renew, and long retain, 
 our old feelings of friendship and amity. [Exeunt. 
 
 * Said to exist now and to be green all the yean
 
 ACT FOURTH 
 
 Enter Emperor, zvith an attendant. 
 
 Emperor. Since the princess was yielded to the Tartars, we 
 have not held an audience. The lonely silence of night 
 : Mt increases our melancholy ! We take the picture of 
 the. fair one and suspend it here, as some small solace to 
 our griefs. ^[To the attendant.] Keeper of the yellow 
 gate, behold, the incense in yonder vase is burnt out : 
 hasten then to add some more. Though we cannot see her, 
 we may at least retain this shadow ; and, while life re- 
 mains, betoken our regard. But oppressed and weary, 
 we would fain take a little repose. 
 
 [Lies dozvn to sleep. The Princess appears before him in a 
 vision.* 
 
 Princess, Delivered over as a captive to appease the bar- 
 barians, they would have conveyed me to their Northern 
 country : but I took an occasion to elude them and have 
 escaped back. Is not this the Emperor, my sovereign? 
 Sir, behold me again restored. 
 
 [A Tartar soldier appears in the vision. 
 
 Soldier. While I chanced to sleep, the lady, our captive, has 
 made her escape, and returned home. In eager pursuit 
 of her, I have reached the imperial palace. — Is not this 
 she? 
 
 [Carries her off. The Emperor starts from his sleep. 
 
 Emperor. We just saw the Princess returned — but alas, how 
 quickly has she vanished ! In bright day she answered not 
 to our call — but when morning dawned on our troubled 
 sleep, a vision presented her in this spot. [Hears the wild 
 fowl's \ cry.] Hark, the passing fowl screamed twice or 
 
 • There is nothing in this more ex- tachment and fidelity, being said never 
 
 travagant than the similar vision in the to pair again after the loss of its mate, 
 
 tragedy of Richard III. An image of it is worshipped by newly 
 
 1 Yengo, a species of wild goose, is married couples. 
 the emblem in China of intersexual at- 
 
 301
 
 302 THE SORROWS OF HAN 
 
 thrice! — Can it know there is no one so desolate as I? 
 [Cries repeated.] Perhaps worn out and weak, hungry 
 and emaciated^ they bewail at once the broad nets of the 
 South and the tough bows of the North. [Cries repeated.] 
 The screams of those water-birds but increase our melan- 
 choly. 
 
 Attendant. Let your Majesty cease this sorrow, and have 
 some regard to your sacred* person. 
 
 Emperor. My sorrows are beyond control. Cease to upbraid 
 this excess of feeling, since ye are all subject to the same. 
 Yon doleful cry is not the note of the swallow on the 
 carved rafters, nor the song of the variegated bird upon 
 the blossoming tree. The princess has abandoned her 
 home ! Know ye in what place she grieves, listening like 
 me to the screams of the wild bird ? 
 
 Enter President. 
 
 President. This day after the close of the morning council, 
 a foreign envoy appeared, bringing with him the fettered 
 traitor Maouyenshow. He announces that the renegade, 
 by deserting his allegiance, led to the breach of truce, and 
 occasioned all these calamities. The princess is no more ! 
 and the K'han wishes for peace and friendship between 
 the two nations. The envoy attends, with reverence, your 
 imperial decision. 
 Emperor. Then strike off the traitor's head, and be it pre- 
 sented as an offering to the shade of the princess! Let 
 a fit banquet be got ready for the envoy, preparatory to his 
 return. [Recites these verses. 
 
 At the fall of the leaf, when the wild-fowl's cry was heard 
 
 in the recesses of the palace. 
 Sad dreams returned to our lonely pillow ; we thought of 
 
 her through the night : 
 Her verdant tomb remains — but where shall we seek her- 
 self? 
 The perfidious painter's head shall atone for the beauty 
 which he wronged. 
 
 • Literally, " dragon person." The emperor's throne is often called the "dragon seat."
 
 AN ARABIAN SONG. 
 
 Photogravure from a painting by R. Leinweber.
 
 l^^mxMMKMn 
 
 -i qaoaxXKKxxxxxxiuaoauoooocxxxxxxxxxxxxjijcxx: 
 
 ARABIAN LITERATURE 
 
 COMPRISING 
 ARABIAN POETRY 
 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 AND 
 
 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 f^ilMXiiiAlMS^imhlWLmWUAJfd^^ 
 
 .m;rr.nimoix»,»nn»»>inrxiO(XXXXtxxKjii 
 
 1} 
 
 WITH CRITICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES BY 
 EPIPHANIUS Vv'ILSON, A.M. 
 
 ^^^Q^^^^^\igx[')X'(')x (.')x (>)X' 
 
 .COLON AL A\?.\C^^?/ ^
 
 Copyright, igoo, 
 By the colonial PRESS.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introduction 3 
 
 The Early Fortunes of Antar 7 
 
 Khaled and Djaida 15 
 
 The Absians and Fazareans 26 
 
 ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 Introduction 49 
 
 Selections. — 
 
 An Elegy 53 
 
 The Tomb of Mano 55 
 
 Tomb of Sayid 56 
 
 On the Death of His Mistress 57 
 
 On Avarice 57 
 
 The Battle of Sabla 58 
 
 Verses to My Enemies 59 
 
 On His Friends 60 
 
 On Temper 60 
 
 The Song of Maisuna 61 
 
 To My Father 61 
 
 On Fatalism 62 
 
 To the Caliph Harun-al-Rashid 62 
 
 Lines to Harun and Yahia 63 
 
 The Ruin of Barmecides 63 
 
 To Taher Ben Hosien 63 
 
 The Adieu 64 
 
 To My Mistress 64 
 
 To a Female Cup-bearer 65 
 
 Mashdud on the Monks of Khabbet 65 
 
 Rakeek to His Female Companions 66 
 
 Dialogue by Rais 66 
 
 To a Lady Weeping 67 
 
 On a Valetudinarian 67 
 
 On a Miser 68 
 
 To Cassim Ohio Allah 68 
 
 A Friend's Birthday 68
 
 iv CONTENTS 
 
 FAGB 
 
 To a Cat 69 
 
 An Epigram upon Ebn Naphta-Wah 70 
 
 Fire 70 
 
 To a Lady Blushing 70 
 
 On the Vicissitudes of Life 71 
 
 To a Dove 71 
 
 On a Thunder Storm 72 
 
 To My Favorite Mistress 72 
 
 Crucifixion of Ebn Bakiah ^^i 
 
 Caprices of Fortune 73 
 
 On Life 74 
 
 Extempore Verses 74 
 
 On the Death of a Son 75 
 
 To Leila 76 
 
 On Moderation in our Pleasures 76 
 
 The Vale of Bozaa 7j 
 
 To Adversity 77 
 
 On the Incompatibility of Pride and True Glory 78 
 
 The Death of Nedham Almolk 78 
 
 Lines to a Lover 78 
 
 Verses to My Daughters 79 
 
 Serenade to My Sleeping Mistress 80 
 
 The Inconsistent 80 
 
 The Capture of Jerusalem 80 
 
 To a Lady 81 
 
 An Epigram 82 
 
 On a Little Man with a Very Large Beard 82 
 
 Lamiat Alajem 83 
 
 To Youth 89 
 
 On Love 89 
 
 A Remonstrance with a Drunkard 90 
 
 Verses 90 
 
 On Procrastination 91 
 
 The Early Death of Abou Alhassan Aly 91 
 
 The Interview 92 
 
 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 The Seven Voyages of Sindbad 95 
 
 First Voyage 98 
 
 Second Voyage 103 
 
 Third Voyage 108 
 
 Fourth Voyage 114 
 
 Fifth Voyage 120 
 
 Sixth Voyage 125 
 
 Seventh and Last Voyage 131 
 
 Aladdin's Wonderful Lamp 136
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING PAGH 
 
 An Arabian Song Frontisinece 
 
 Photogravure from a painting 
 
 Page from an Arabic Story-Book . . . . ,92 
 
 Fac-simile example of Oriental Printing and Engraving
 
 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 [Translation by Etienne Delecluse and Epiphanius IVilson]
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE romantic figure of Antar, or Antarab, takes the same 
 place in Arabian Hterattire as that of Achilles among 
 the Greeks. The Cid in Spain, Orlando in Italy, and 
 Arthur in England, are similar examples of national ideals put 
 forth by poets and romance writers as embodiments of a cer- 
 tain half-mythic age of chivalry, when personal valor, pru- 
 dence, generosity, and high feeling gave the warrior an admit- 
 ted preeminence among his fellows. The literature of Arabia 
 is indeed rich in novels and tales. The " Thousand and One 
 Nights " is of world-wide reputation, but the " Romance of 
 Antar " is much less artificial, more expressive of high moral 
 principles, and certainly superior in literary style to the fan- 
 tastic recitals of the coiTee house and bazaar, in which Sinbad 
 and Morgiana figure. A true picture of Bedouin society, in the 
 centuries before Mohammed had conquered the Arabian penin- 
 sula, is given us in the charming episodes of Antar. We see 
 the encampments of the tribe, the camels yielding milk and flesh 
 for food, the women friends and councillors of their husbands, 
 the boys inured to arms from early days, the careful breeding 
 of horses, the songs of poet and minstrel stirring all hearts, the 
 mail-clad lines of warriors with lance and sword, the supreme 
 power of the King — often dealing out justice with stern, sud- 
 den, and inflexible ferocity. Among these surroundings Antar 
 appears, a dazzling and irresistible warrior and a poet of won- 
 derful power. The Arab classics, in years long before Moham- 
 med had taken the Kaaba and made it the talisman of his 
 creed, were hung in the little shrine where the black volcanic 
 stone was kept. They were known as Maallakat, or Sus- 
 pended Books, which had the same meaning among Arabian 
 literati as the term classic bore among the Italian scholars of 
 the Renaissance. Numbered with these books of the Kaaba 
 were the poems of Antar, who was thus the Taliessin of Ara- 
 bian chivalry. 
 
 3
 
 4 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 It is indeed necessary to recollect that in reading the epi- 
 sodes of Antar we have been taken back to the heroic age in 
 the Arabian peninsula. War is considered the noblest occu- 
 ^ pation of a man, and Khaled despises the love of a noble mai- 
 den " from pride in his passion for war." Antar has his fam- 
 ous horse as the Cid had his Babieca, and his irresistible sword 
 as Arthur his Excalibur. The wealth of chiefs and kings con- 
 sists in horses and camels ; there is no mention of money or 
 jewelry. When a wager is made the stakes are a hundred 
 camels. The commercial spirit of the Arabian Nights is 
 wanting in this spirited romance of chivalry. The Arabs had 
 sunk to a race of mere traders when Aladdin became pos- 
 sessed of his lamp, and the trickery, greed, and avarice of ped- 
 lers and merchants are exhibited in incident after incident of 
 the " Thousand and One Nights." War is despised or feared, 
 courage less to be relied upon than astute knavery, and one of 
 the facts that strikes us is the general frivolity, dishonesty, and 
 cruelty which prevail through the tales of Bagdad. The op- 
 posite is the case with Antar. Natural passion has full play, 
 but nobility of character is taken seriously, and generosity and 
 sensibility of heart are portrayed with truthfulness and naivete. 
 Of course the whole romance is a collection of many romantic 
 stories : it has no epic unity. It will remind the reader of the 
 " Morte d'Arthur " of Sir Thomas Malory, rather than of the 
 '' Iliad." We have chosen the most striking of these episodes 
 as best calculated to serve as genuine specimens of Arabian 
 literature. They will transport the modern reader into a new 
 world — which is yet the old, long vanished world of pastoral 
 simplicity and warlike enthusiasm, in primitive Arabia. But 
 the novelty lies in the plot of the tales. Djaida and Khaled, 
 Antar and Ibla, and the race between Shidoub and the great 
 racers Dahir and Ghabra, bring before our eyes with singular 
 freshness the character of a civilization, a domestic life, a po- 
 litical system, which were not wanting in refinement, purity, 
 and justice. The conception of such a dramatic personage as 
 Antar would be original in the highest degree, if it were not 
 based upon historic fact. Antar is a more real personage than 
 Arthur, and quite as real and historic as the Cid. Yet his 
 adventures remind us very much of those which run through 
 the story of the Round Table. 
 
 The Arabs, in the days of romance, were a collection of tribes
 
 INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 and families whose tents and villages were spread along the 
 Red Sea, between Egypt and the Indian Ocean. There were 
 some tribes more powerful than others, and the result of their 
 tyranny was often bitter war. There was no central mon- 
 archy, no priesthood, and no written law. The only stable and 
 independent unit was the family. Domestic life with its pur- 
 est virtues constituted the strong point amongst the Arabian 
 tribes, where gentleness, free obedience, and forbearance were 
 conspicuous. Each tribe bore the name of its first ancestor, 
 and from him and his successors came down a traditionary, 
 unwritten law, the violation of which was considered the most 
 heinous of offences. There was no settled religion before the 
 conquest of Mohammed ; each tribe and each family wor- 
 shipped whom they would — celestial spirits, sun and moon, or 
 certain idols. In the account given in Antar of the Council 
 of War, the ancients, or old men of the tribe, came forth with 
 idols or amulets round their necks, and the whole account of 
 the council, in which the bard as well as the orator addressed 
 the people, is strictly accurate in historic details. The custom 
 of infanticide in the case of female children was perfectly au- 
 thorized among the Arabs, and illustrates the motive of the 
 pretty episode of Khaled and Djaida. War was individual and 
 personal among the Arabs, and murder was atoned for by mur- 
 der, or by the price of a certain number of camels. Raising 
 of horses, peaceful contests in arms, or poetic competitions 
 where each bard recited in public his compositions, formed 
 their amusements. They were very sensible to the charms of 
 music, poetry and oratory, and as a general rule the Arab 
 chieftain was brave, generous, and munificent. 
 
 All these historic facts are fully reflected in the highly emo- 
 tional tale of " Antar," which is the greatest of all the national 
 romances of Arabia. It would scarcely be possible to fix upon 
 any individual writer as its author, for it has been edited over 
 and over again by Arabian scribes, each adding his own glosses 
 and enriching it with incidents. Its original date may have 
 been the sixth century of our era, about five hundred years be- 
 fore the production of the " Thousand and One Nights." 
 
 E. W.
 
 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 THE EARLY FORTUNES OF ANTAR 
 
 AT the time the " Romance of Antar " opens, the most 
 powerful and the best governed of the Bedouin tribes 
 were those of the Absians and the Adnamians. King 
 Zoheir, chief of the Absians, was firmly established upon his 
 throne, so that the kings of other nations, who were subject to 
 him, paid him tribute. The whole of Arabia in short became 
 subject to the Absians, so that all the chiefs of other tribes and 
 all inhabitants of the desert dreaded their power and depreda- 
 tions. 
 
 Under these circumstances, and as a consequence of a fla- 
 grant act of tyranny on the part of Zoheir, several chieftains, 
 among whom was Shedad, a son of Zoheir, seceded from the 
 Absian tribe, and set out to seek adventures, to attack other 
 tribes, and to carry off their cattle and treasure. These chief- 
 tains arrived at the dwelling-place of a certain tribe, named 
 Djezila, whom they fought with and pillaged. Amongst their 
 booty was a black woman of extraordinary beauty, the mother 
 of two children. Her name was Zebiba ; her elder son was 
 Djaris; her younger Shidoub. Shedad became passionately 
 enamoured of this woman, and yielded all the rest of his share 
 in the booty in order to obtain possession of her and her two 
 children. He dwelt in the fields with this negress, whose sons 
 took care of the cattle. In course of time Zebiba bore a son to 
 Shedad. This child was born tawny as an elephant ; his eyes 
 were bleared, his head thick with hair, his features hard and 
 fixed. The corners of his mouth drooped, his eyes started 
 from his head, his bones were hard, his feet long ; he had ears 
 of prodigious size, and his glance flashed like fire. In other 
 respects he resembled Shedad, who was transported with de- 
 light at the sight of his son, whom he named Antar. 
 
 7
 
 8 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 Meanwhile the child waxed in strength, and his name soon 
 became known. Then the companions of Shedad wished to 
 dispute the possession of the boy with him, and King Zoheir 
 was informed of the matter. He demanded that the boy 
 should be brought into his presence, and Shedad complied. 
 As soon as the king caught sight of this extraordinary child, 
 he uttered a cry of astonishment, and flung him a piece of 
 goat's flesh. At the same moment a dog, who happened to be 
 in the tent, seized the meat and ran off with it. But Antar, 
 filled with rage, pursued the animal, and, violently taking hold 
 of him, drew his jaws apart, splitting the throat down to the 
 shoulders, and thus recovered the meat. King Zoheir, in 
 amazement, deferred the matter to the Cadi, who confirmed 
 Shedad's possession of Zebiba, and her three children, Djaris, 
 Shidoub, and Antar. 
 
 Shedad therefore provided a home for Zebiba, in order that 
 his sons might be educated in their business of tending the 
 herds. It was at this time that Antar began to develop his 
 strength of body, his courage, and intelligence. When he was 
 ten years of age he slew a wolf which threatened to attack the 
 herds committed to his charge. Although brutal, headstrong, 
 and passionate, he early exhibited a love of justice, and a dis- 
 position to protect the weak, especially women. He put to 
 death a slave who beat an old woman, his slave and compan- 
 ion ; and this action, although at first misunderstood, eventu- 
 ally gained the admiration of King Zoheir, who treated Antar 
 with distinction, because of his nobility of character. In con- 
 sequence of this action, which had been so much applauded by 
 King Zoheir, the young Arab women and their mothers hung 
 round Antar to learn the details of this courageous deed, and 
 to congratulate him on his magnanimity. 
 
 Among the young women was Ibla, daughter of Malek, the 
 son of Zoheir. Ibla, fair as the full moon, was somewhat 
 younger than Antar. She was accustomed to banter him in a 
 familiar way, feeling that he was her slave. " And you," she 
 said to him, " you, born so low, how dared you kill the slave of 
 a prince ? What provocation can you have against him ? " 
 " Mistress," replied Antar, " I struck that slave because he de- 
 served it, for he had insulted a poor woman. He knocked her 
 down, and made her the laughing stock of all the servants." 
 " Of course you were right," answered Ibla, with a smile, " and
 
 THE EARLY FORTUNES OF ANTAR 9 
 
 we were all delighted that you escaped from the adventure 
 safe and sound. Because of the service you have rendered us 
 by your conduct, our mothers look upon you as a son, and we 
 as a brother." 
 
 From that moment Antar made the service of women his 
 special duty above all others. At that time the Arabian ladies 
 had the habit of drinking camel's milk morning and evening, 
 and it was especially the duty of those who waited upon them 
 to milk the camels, and to cool it in the wind before offering it 
 to them. Antar had been for some time released from this 
 duty, when one morning he entered the dwelHng of his uncle 
 Malek, and found there his aunt, engaged in combing the hair 
 of her daughter Ibla, whose ringlets, black as the night, floated 
 over her shoulders. Antar was struck with surprise, and Ibla, 
 as soon as she knew that he had seen her, fled and left him 
 with his eyes fixed abstractedly on her disappearing form. 
 
 It was from this incident that the love of Antar for the daugh- 
 ter of his uncle took its origin. He saw how Ibla shone in so- 
 ciety, and his passion grew to such an extent that he ventured 
 to sound her praises, and to express the feeling she excited in 
 him by writing verses which, while they gained the admiration 
 of the multitude, incurred also the envy of the chieftains. 
 Moreover his father could not pardon the presumption of An- 
 tar, who, born a slave, had dared to cast eyes on his free-born 
 cousin. 
 
 When therefore he slew a slave who had slandered him, his 
 father ordered him to be flogged, and sent away to watch over 
 the cattle in the pastures. He had now before him a fresh op- 
 portunity for exhibiting his prodigious strength and invincible 
 courage. A lion attempted to attack the herds committed to 
 his care. He killed it at the very moment that his father 
 Shedad, enraged against him, had come, accompanied by his 
 brother, to do him ill. But a mingled feeling of admiration 
 and fear held their hands, and in the evening, when Antar re- 
 turned from the pastures, his father and his uncle made him 
 seat himself at dinner with them, while the rest of the attend- 
 ants stood behind them. 
 
 Meanwhile King Zoheir was called upon a warlike expedi- 
 tion against the tribe of Temin. All his warriors followed 
 him ; the women alone remained behind. Shedad entrusted 
 them to the protection of Antar, who pledged his life for their
 
 lo THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 safety. During the absence of the warriors, Semiah, the law- 
 ful wife of Shedad, conceived the idea of giving an entertain- 
 ment on the bank of the lake Zatoulizard. Ibla attended it 
 with her mother, and Antar witnessed all the amusements in 
 which his beloved took part. His passion for her became in- 
 tensified. He was once tempted to violate the modesty of love 
 by the violence of desire, but, at that moment, he saw a great 
 cloud of dust rise in the distance ; the shouts of war were heard ; 
 and suddenly the warriors of the tribe of Cathan appeared on 
 the scene, and, descending on the pleasure-seekers, carried oflf 
 the women, including Ibla. Antar, being unarmed, ran after 
 one of the horsemen, seized him, strangled and threw him to 
 the ground. Then he put on the armor of the vanquished foe, 
 attacked and put to flight the tribe of Cathan, rescued the 
 women, and obtained a booty of twenty-five horses. From 
 that moment Semiah, the wife of Shedad, who hitherto had a 
 pronounced aversion to Antar, conceived a sincere affection 
 for him. 
 
 King Zoheir, meantime, had returned victorious from his 
 expedition. Shedad returned at the same moment, and went 
 to visit his herds. Seeing Antar surrounded by horses which 
 he did not know, and mounted upon a fine black courser, he 
 asked, " Where did these animals, and particularly this su- 
 perb horse, come from ? " Then Antar, not willing to betray 
 the imprudence of Semiah, declared that, as the Cathan- 
 ians had left their horses behind them, he had seized them. 
 Shedad was indignant, and treated Antar as a robber, re- 
 proached him for his wickedness, and after repeatedly telling 
 him how wrong it was to rouse discord among the Arabs, struck 
 him with his whip, with such violence as to draw blood. Then 
 Semiah, distressed by the sight of this unjust treatment, took 
 off her veil, letting her hair fall over her shoulders, took Antar 
 into her arms and told all that had happened and how she and 
 all the other women of her tribe were indebted to this hero for 
 their honor and liberty. Shedad could not restrain his tender- 
 ness on learning the magnanimity of his son's silence. Soon 
 afterwards King Zoheir, to whom this incident had been re- 
 lated, summoned Antar into his presence, and declared that a 
 man who could exhibit such courage and generosity was 
 bound to become preeminent among his companions. All the 
 chieftains who surrounded the king congratulated Antar, and
 
 THE EARLY FORTUNES OF ANTAR n 
 
 one of his friends, in order to give the court a complete idea of 
 this young man's remarkable gifts, asked him to recite some of 
 his verses. 
 
 In compHance with this request he recited a poem in praise 
 of warriors and war, and the king and all the court manifested 
 their delight. Zoheir bade Antar approach, gave him a robe 
 of honor, and thanked him. That evening Antar departed 
 with his father Shedad, his heart full of joy over the honors 
 which had been lavished on him, and his love for Ibla still 
 more heightened. 
 
 In spite of the indisputable virtues of Antar, in spite of the 
 great services he had rendered the Absians, the chieftains of 
 this tribe still regarded him as merely a common slave and ten- 
 der of cattle. The beginning of his rise to favor excited a feel- 
 ing of keen hatred, and caused many plots to be laid against him. 
 A series of intrigues was entered upon, the aim of which was 
 the death of the hero. But each attack upon his reputation 
 and his life redounded to his benefit, and furnished him with an 
 opportunity of putting his enemies to silence and defeat. For 
 by his generosity and magnanimity, even his envious foes felt 
 themselves under obligation to him. On each of his triumphs 
 the mutual love between himself and Ibla went on increasing. 
 
 After the performance of many feats as a horseman, Antar 
 came into possession of a famous horse named Abjer, and a 
 sword of marvellous temper, Djamy — and every time he ap- 
 peared on the field of combat, as well as when he returned vic- 
 torious from the fight, he made a poetic address, finishing with 
 the words, " I am the lover of Ibla." At the conclusion of a 
 war in which he had performed prodigies of valor. King Zoheir 
 gave him the surname of Alboufauris, which means, " The 
 Father of Horsemen." 
 
 The greater grew his name, the more highly he was honored 
 by King Zoheir, so much the more did the hatred of the chief- 
 tains and the love of Ibla towards him increase. But it came 
 to pass that Ibla was asked in marriage by Amarah, a stupid 
 youth, puffed up by his wealth and lineage. Antar, on hearing 
 the news, was transported with rage, and attacked his young 
 rival with such violence that all the Arabian chiefs begged of 
 Zoheir to punish the aggressor. The king left to Shedad, An- 
 tar's father, the pronouncing of sentence. Shedad had, like 
 the others, viewed the rise of Antar, the black slave, to favor,
 
 12 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 with jealous eye, and sent him back to the pastures to keep 
 the herds. 
 
 It was at this point that the greatness of Antar's character 
 appeared in its full dimensions. The hero submitted with res- 
 ignation to the orders of his father, " to whom," he said, " he 
 owed obedience as to his master, since he was his slave " ; 
 and he swore to him, in the presence of witnesses, not to mount 
 horse, nor engage in battle, without his permission. Tears 
 flowed from his eyes, and before departing for the pastures he 
 went to see his mother Zebiba, and to talk with her concerning 
 Ibla. " Ibla? " said his mother — " but a moment ago she was 
 here beside me, and said to me, ' Comfort the heart of Antar, 
 and tell him from me, that even should my father torture me to 
 death in trying to change my mind, I would not desire nor ask 
 for other husband than Antar.' " 
 
 These words of Ibla filled with rapture the heart of Antar, as 
 he started for the pastures in company with his brothers, 
 Djaris and Shidoub. 
 
 At this time the tribe of Abs, which Zoheir ruled over, was 
 at war with that of Tex, on account of the carrying ofif of 
 Anima, daughter of the chief of the Tex, a man known as " The 
 Drinker of Blood." Animated by the desire to take vengeance 
 and recover his daughter, this chief and his army fell upon the 
 Absians like a thunderbolt. The Absians were defeated, and 
 their women, among whom was Ibla, taken prisoners. All 
 pride was then, in this time of need, laid aside, and to their 
 assistance Antar was summoned. But before acting Antar laid 
 down his conditions, and stipulated that, in case he succeeded 
 in subduing the foe and recovering the women, Ibla should be 
 given him in marriage. Malek, the father of Ibla, and Shedad, 
 the father of Antar, assented, and bound themselves by an 
 oath to fulfil these conditions and to reinstate Antar in all the 
 honors and dignities belonging to him. 
 
 Antar was victorious. He rescued Ibla, and received grate- 
 ful expressions of gratitude from his beloved, while King Zo- 
 heir gave him the kiss of royal honor. Everything seemed to 
 unite in fulfilling the hopes of Antar. But at the very moment 
 in which he was honored by royal felicitations, several chief- 
 tains, indignant at the elevation of a black slave, employed 
 every means to prevent his marriage with Ibla, and to force 
 him to undertake enterprises which would prove fatal to him.
 
 THE EARLY FORTUNES OF ANTAR 13 
 
 Shedad, his father, and Malek, the father of Ibla, connived at 
 these plots. They demanded of Antar, who was of that trust- 
 ing disposition which belongs to generous and brave men, 
 that he give as a wedding present to his bride, a thousand 
 camels, of a particular breed, not to be found excepting on the 
 borders of the Persian kingdom. The hero made no remark 
 on hearing this treacherous demand, and was so eager to please 
 Ibla, that he took no count of the difficulties to be undergone. 
 He set off and soon found himself engaged in conflict with a 
 large army of Persians, who made him prisoner, and led him 
 off with the view of bringing him into the presence of their 
 king. There he was taken, bound and on horseback, when at 
 that instant, the news came that a fierce lion of extraordinary 
 size was ravaging the country. It was alleged that even armed 
 men fled before it. Antar, who was on the point of being put 
 to death, asked the King of Persia to cause his arms at least to 
 be unbound, and to let him confront the lion. His prayer was 
 granted ; he rushed upon the savage creature, and transfixed 
 it with his lance. Nor was this the only service he did the 
 King of Persia, who in gratitude for many others, not only 
 gave Antar the thousand camels he was looking for, but loaded 
 him with treasures, with which to do homage to Ibla. 
 
 On his return Antar was received with a rapturous welcome 
 by the Absian tribe. But the hostile and the envious con- 
 tinued to plot against him. They still aimed at preventing his 
 marriage, and compassing his death. Amarah, who aspired to 
 Ibla's hand, backed by all the chieftains hostile to Antar, re- 
 newed his suit and pretensions. Ibla was carried oflf from her 
 house among the Absians, and taken to another tribe. Then 
 Antar set out in search of her, and at length rescued her ; their 
 mutual love was intensified by this reunion. By a series of 
 wiles and intrigues skilfully conducted, the chiefs who sur- 
 rounded Ibla persuaded her to demand still further dowry 
 from Antar. She spoke of Khaled and Djaida, whose history 
 has already been related ; she said, in presence of Antar, that 
 that young warrior girl would not consent to marry Khaled, 
 saving on the condition that her camel's bridle be held by the 
 daughter of Moawich. This word was sufficient for Antar, 
 and he promised to Ibla that Djaida should hold the bridle of 
 her camel on her wedding day ; and more than that, the head 
 of Khaled should be slung round the neck of the warrior girl.
 
 14 THE'TTl^ANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 Thus the hero, constantly loving and beloved by Ibla, inces- 
 santly deceived by the cunningly devised obstacles raised by 
 his foes, sustained his reputation for greatness of character 
 and strength of arm, submitted with resignation to the severest 
 tests, and passed victoriously through them all. After the 
 death of King Zoheir, whom he avenged, he undertook to assist 
 Cais, Zoheir's son, in all his enterprises, and after a long series 
 of adventures which tired the patience, love, and courage of 
 Antar, this hero, recognized as chief among Arabian chieftains, 
 obtained the great reward of his long struggles and mighty 
 toils, by marriage to his well-loved Ibla.
 
 KHALED AND DJAIDA 
 
 MOHARIB and Zahir were brothers, of the same father 
 and mother ; the Arabs call them " brothers germane." 
 Both were renowned for courage and daring. But 
 Moharib was chief of the tribe, and Zahir, being subject to his 
 authority, was no more than his minister, giving him counsel 
 and advice. Now it happened that a violent dispute arose be- 
 tween them. Zahir subsequently retired to his tent, in pro- 
 found sorrow, and not knowing what course to take. " What 
 is the matter with you ? " asked his wife, " Why are you so 
 troubled? What has happened to you? Has any one dis- 
 pleased or insulted you — the greatest of Arab chiefs ? " 
 " What am I to do ? " replied Zahir ; " the man who has in- 
 jured me is one whom I cannot lay hands on, or do him wrong ; 
 he is my companion in the bosom of my family, my brother in 
 the world. Ah, if it had been any one but he, I would have 
 shown him what sort of a man he was at odds with, and have 
 made an example of him before all the chiefs of our tribes ! " 
 " Leave him ; let him enjoy his possessions alone," cried his 
 wife, and, in order to persuade her husband to take this course, 
 she recited verses from a poet of the time, which dissuade a 
 man from tolerating an insult even at the hands of his parents. 
 Zahir assented to the advice of his wife. He made all prep- 
 arations for departure, struck his tents, loaded his camels, and 
 started ofif on the road towards the camp of the Saad tribe, 
 with whom he was in alliance. Yet in spite of all, he felt a 
 keen pang at separating himself from his brother — and thus 
 he spoke : " On starting on a journey which removes me from 
 you, I shall be a thousand years on the way, and each year will 
 
 carry me a thousand leagues Even though the 
 
 favors you heap upon me be worth a thousand Egypts, and 
 each of these Egypts had a thousand Niles, all those favors 
 would be despised. I shall be contented with little so long as 
 I am far from you. Away from you, I shall recite this distich, 
 
 IK
 
 t6 the romance of antar 
 
 which is wortli more than a necklace of fine pearls : * When a 
 man is wronged on the soil of his tribe, there is nothing left 
 him but to leave it ; you, who have so wickedly injured me, be- 
 fore long shall feel the power of the kindly divinity, for he is 
 your judge and mine, he is unchangeable and eternal." 
 
 Zahir continued his journey, until he reached the Saad tribe, 
 when he dismounted from his horse. He was cordially re- 
 ceived and was pressed to take up his abode with them. His 
 wife was at that time soon to become a mother, and he said to 
 her: " If a son is given to us, he will be right welcome ; but if 
 it be a daughter, conceal her sex and let people think we have 
 a male child, so that my brother may have no reason to crow 
 over us." When her time came Zahir's wife brought into the 
 world a daughter. They agreed that her name should be 
 actually Djaida, but that publicly she should be known as 
 Djonder, that people might take her for a boy. In order to 
 promote this belief, they kept up feasting and entertainment 
 early and late for many days. 
 
 About the same time Moharib, the other brother, had a son 
 born to him, whom he named Khaled (The Eternal). He 
 chose this name in gratitude to God, because, since his 
 brother's departure, his afifairs had prospered well. 
 
 The two children eventually reached full age, and their re- 
 nown was widespread among the Arabs. Zahir had taught 
 his daughter to ride on horseback, and had trained her in all 
 the accomplishments fitting to a warrior bold and daring. He 
 accustomed her to the severest toils, and the most perilous en- 
 terprises. When he went to war, he put her among the other 
 Arabs of the tribe, and in the midst of these horsemen she soon 
 took her rank as one of the most valiant of them. Thus it came 
 to pass that she eclipsed all her comrades, and would even at- 
 tack the lions in their dens. At last her name became an 
 object of terror ; when she had overcome a champion she 
 never failed to cry out : " I am Djonder, son of Zahir, horse- 
 man of the tribes." 
 
 Her cousin Khaled, on the other hand, distinguished himself 
 equally by his brilliant courage. His father Moharib, a wise 
 and prudent chief, had built houses of entertainment for stran- 
 gers ; all horsemen found a welcome there. Khaled had been 
 brought up in the midst of warriors. In this school his spirit 
 had been formed, here he had learned to ride, and at last had
 
 KHALED AND DJAIDA 17 
 
 become an intrepid warrior, and a redoubtable hero. It was 
 soon perceived by the rest of the army that his spirit and valor 
 were unconquerable. 
 
 Eventually he heard tell of his cousin Djonder, and his de- 
 sire to see and know him and to witness his skill in arms became 
 extreme. But he could not satisfy this desire because of the 
 dislike which his father showed for his cousin, the son of his 
 uncle. This curiosity of Khaled continued unsatisfied until 
 the death of his father Moharib, which put him in possession of 
 rank, wealth, and lands. He followed the example of his father 
 in entertaining strangers, protecting the weak and unfortu- 
 nate, and giving raiment to the naked. He continued also to 
 scour the plains on horseback with his warriors, and in this 
 way waxed greater in bodily strength and courage. After 
 some time, gathering together a number of rich gifts, he 
 started, in company with his mother, to visit his uncle. He 
 did not draw rein until he reached the dwelling of Zahir, who 
 was delighted to see him, and made magnificent preparations 
 for his entertainment ; for the uncle had heard tell on many 
 occasions of his nephew's worth and valor. Khaled also vis- 
 ited his cousin. He saluted her, pressed her to his bosom, and 
 kissed her forehead, thinking she was a young man. He felt 
 the greatest pleasure in her company, and remained ten days 
 with his uncle, regularly taking part in the jousts and contests 
 of the horsemen and warriors. As for his cousin, the moment 
 she had seen how handsome and valiant Khaled was, she had 
 fallen violently in love with him. Her sleep left her ; she could 
 not eat ; and her love grew to such a pitch that feeling her 
 heart completely lost to him, she spoke to her mother and said: 
 '* O mother, should my cousin leave without taking me in his 
 company, I shall die of grief at his absence." Then her mother 
 was touched with pity for her, and uttered no reproaches, feel- 
 ing that they would be in vain. " Djaida," she said, " conceal 
 your feelings, and restrain yourself from grief. You have 
 done nothing improper, for your covisin is the man of your 
 choice, and is of your own blood. Like him, you are fair and 
 attractive ; like him, brave and skilful in horsemanship. To- 
 morrow morning, when his mother approaches us, I will reveal 
 to her the whole matter ; we will soon afterwards give you to 
 him in marriage, and finally we will all return to our own 
 country." 
 
 Vol. IVa— 2
 
 i8 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 The wife of Zahir waited patiently until the following morn- 
 ing, when the mother of Khaled arrived. She then presented 
 her daughter, whose head she uncovered, so as to allow the 
 hair to fall to her shoulders. At the sight of such charms the 
 mother of Khaled was beyond measure astonished, and ex- 
 claimed : " What ! is not this your son Djonder? " " No! it 
 is Djaida — she the moon of beauty, at last has risen." Then 
 she told her all that had passed between herself and her hus- 
 band, and how and why they had concealed the sex of their 
 child. " Dear kinswoman," replied the mother of Khaled, still 
 quite surprised, " among all the daughters of Arabia who have 
 been celebrated for their beauty I have never seen one more 
 lovely than this one. What is her name ? " "I have already 
 told you that it is Djaida, and my especial purpose in telling 
 you the secret is to offer you all these charms, for I ardently 
 desire to marry my daughter to your son, so that we may all be 
 able to return to our own land." The mother of Khaled at 
 once assented to this proposal, and said : " The possession of 
 Djaida will doubtless render my son very happy." She at 
 once rose and went out to look for Khaled, and communicated 
 to him all she had seen and learned, not failing to extol espe- 
 cially the charms of Djaida. " By the faith of an Arab," said 
 she, " never, my son, have I seen in the desert, or in any city, 
 a girl such as your cousin ; I do not except the most beautiful. 
 Nothing is so perfect as she is, nothing more lovely and at- 
 tractive. Make haste, my son, to see your uncle and ask him 
 for his daughter in marriage. You will be happy indeed if he 
 grants your prayer: Go, my son, and do not waste time in 
 winning her." 
 
 When Khaled had heard these words, he cast his eyes to the 
 ground, and remained for some time* thoughtful and gloomy. 
 Then he replied : " My mother, I cannot remain here any 
 longer. I must return home amid my horsemen and troops. 
 I have no intention of saying anything more to my cousin ; I 
 am convinced that she is a person whose temper and ideas of 
 life are uncertain ; her character and manner of speech are 
 utterly destitute of stability and propriety. I have always 
 been accustomed to live amid warriors, on whom I spend my 
 wealth, and with whom I win a soldier's renown. As for my 
 cousin's love for me, it is the weakness of a woman, of a young 
 girl." He then donned his armor, mounted his horse, bade
 
 KHALED AND DJAIDA 19 
 
 his uncle farewell, and announced his intention of leaving at 
 once. " What means this haste ? " cried Zahir. " I can re- 
 main here no longer," answered Khalcd, and, putting his horse 
 to a gallop, he flung himself into the depths of the wilderness. 
 His mother, after relating to Djaida the conversation she held 
 with her son, mounted a camel and made her way towards her 
 own country. 
 
 The soul of Djaida felt keenly this indignity. She brooded 
 over it — sleepless and without appetite. Some days after- 
 wards, as her father was preparing with his horsemen to make 
 a foray against his foes, his glance fell on Djaida, and seeing 
 how altered she was in face, and dejected in spirit, he refrained 
 from saying anything, thinking and hoping that she would 
 surely become herself again after a short time. 
 
 Scarcely was Zahir out of sight of his tents, when Djaida, 
 who felt herself like to die, and whose frame of mind was quite 
 unsupportable, said to her mother : " Mother, I feel that I am 
 dying, and that this miserable Khaled is still in the vigor of 
 life. I should like, if God gives me the power, to make him 
 taste the fury of death, the bitterness of its pang and torture." 
 So saying, she rose like a lioness, put on her armor, and 
 mounted her horse, telling her mother she was going on a 
 hunting expedition. Swiftly, and without stopping, she trav- 
 ersed rocks and mountains, her excitement increasing as she 
 approached the dwelling-place of her cousin. As she was dis- 
 guised, she entered, unrecognized, into the tent where stran- 
 gers were received. Her visor was, however, lowered, like 
 that of a horseman of Hijaz. Slaves and servants received her, 
 offered her hospitality, comporting themselves towards her as 
 to one of the guests, and the most noble personages of the land. 
 That night Djaida took rest ; but the following day she joined 
 the military exercises, challenged many cavaliers, and ex- 
 hibited so much address and bravery, that she produced great 
 astonishment among the spectators. Long before noon the 
 horsemen of her cousin were compelled to acknowledge her 
 superiority over themselves. Khaled wished to witness her 
 prowess, and, surprised at the sight of so much skill, he offered 
 to match himself with her. Djaida entered the contest with 
 him, and then both of them joining in combat tried, one after 
 another, all the methods of attack and defence, until the shad- 
 ows of night came on. When they separated both were un-
 
 20 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 hurt, and none could say who was the victor. Thus Djaida, 
 while rousing the admiration of the spectators, saw the annoy- 
 ance they felt on finding their chief equalled in fight by so skil- 
 ful an opponent. Khaled ordered his antagonist to be treated 
 with all the care and honor imaginable, then retired to his tent, 
 his mind filled with thoughts of his conflict. Djaida remained 
 three days at her cousin's habitation. Every morning she 
 presented herself on the ground of combat, and remained 
 under arms until night. She enjoyed it greatly, still keeping 
 her incognito, whilst Khaled, on the other hand, made no en- 
 quiries, and asked no questions of her, as to who she was and 
 to what tribe she might belong. 
 
 On the morning of the fourth day, while Khaled, according 
 to his custom, rode over the plain, and passed close to the 
 tents reserved for strangers, he saw Djaida mounting her 
 horse. He saluted her, and she returned his salute. " Noble 
 Arab," said Khaled, " I should like to ask you one question. 
 Up to this moment I have failed in courtesy towards you, but, 
 I now beg of you, in the name of that God who has endowed 
 you with such great dexterity in arms, tell me, who are you, 
 and to what noble princes are you allied? For I have never 
 met your equal among brave cavaliers. Answer me, I beseech 
 you, for I am dying to learn." Djaida smiled, and raising her 
 visor, replied : " Khaled, I am a woman, and not a warrior. I 
 am your cousin Djaida, who offered herself to you, and wished 
 to give herself to you; but you refused her — from the pride 
 you felt in your passion for arms." As she spoke she turned 
 her horse suddenly, stuck spurs into him, and dashed oflf at 
 full gallop towards her own country. 
 
 Khaled filled with confusion withdrew to his tent, not know- 
 ing what to do, nor what would be the end of the passionate 
 love which he suddenly felt rise within him. He was seized 
 with disgust for all these warlike habits and tastes, which had 
 reduced him to the melancholy plight in which he found him- 
 self. His distaste for women was changed into love. He sent 
 for his mother and related to her all that had occurred. " My 
 son," she said, " all these circumstances should render Djaida 
 still dearer to you. Wait patiently a little, until I have been 
 able to go and ask her of her mother." She straightway 
 mounted her camel, and started through the desert on the 
 tracks of Djaida, who immediately on her arrival home had
 
 KHALED AND DJAIDA 21 
 
 told her mother all that had happened. As soon as the mother 
 of Khaled had arrived, she flung herself into the arms of her 
 kinswoman and demanded Djaida in marriage for her son, for 
 Zahir had not yet returned from his foray. When Djaida 
 heard from her mother the request of Khaled, she said, " This 
 shall never be, though I be forced to drink the cup of death. 
 That which occurred at his tents was brought about by me to 
 quench the fire of my grief and unhappiness, and soothe the 
 anguish of my heart." 
 
 At these words the mother of Khaled, defeated of her object, 
 went back to her son, who was tortured by the most cruel anx- 
 iety. He rose suddenly to his feet, for his love had reached 
 the point of desperation, and asked with inquietude what were 
 the feelings of his cousin. When he learned the answer of 
 Djaida his distress became overwhelming, for her refusal only 
 increased his passion. " What is to be done, my mother," he 
 exclaimed. " I see no way of escaping from this embarrass- 
 ment," she replied, " excepting you assemble all your horse- 
 men from among the Arab sheiks, and from among those with 
 whom you are on friendly terms. Wait until your uncle re- 
 turns from the campaign, and then, surrounded by your fol- 
 lowers, go to him, and in the presence of the assembled war- 
 riors, demand of him his daughter in marriage. If he deny 
 that he has a daughter, tell him all that has happened, and urge 
 him until he gives way to your demand." This advice, and the 
 plan proposed moderated the grief of Khaled. As soon as he 
 learned that his uncle had returned home, he assembled all the 
 chiefs of his family and told his story to them. All of them 
 were very much astonished, and Madi Kereb, one of the 
 Khaled's bravest companions, could not help saying: "This 
 is a strange affair ; we have always heard say that your uncle 
 had a son named Djonder, but now the truth is known. You 
 are certainly the man who has most right to the daughter of 
 your uncle. It is therefore our best course to present our- 
 selves in a body and prostrate ourselves before him, asking him 
 to return to his family and not to give his daughter to a stran- 
 ger." Khaled, without hearing any more, took with him a 
 hundred of his bravest horsemen, being those who had been 
 brought up with Moharib and Zahir from their childhood, and, 
 having provided themselves with presents even more costly 
 than those they had taken before, they started off, and marched
 
 22 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 on until they came to the tribe of Saad. Khaled began by 
 compHmenting his uncle on his happy return from war, but no 
 one could be more astonished than Zahir at this second visit, 
 especially when he saw his nephew accompanied by all the 
 chieftains of his family. It never for a moment occurred to 
 him that his daughter Djaida had anything to do with Khaled's 
 return, but thought that his nephew merely wished to persuade 
 him to return to his native territory. He offered them every 
 hospitality, provided them with tents and entertained them 
 magnificently. He ordered camels and sheep to be killed, and 
 gave a banquet ; he furnished his guests with all things needful 
 and proper for three days. On the fourth day Khaled arose, 
 and after thanking his uncle for all his attentions, asked him 
 for his daughter in marriage, and begged him to return to his 
 own land. Zahir denied that he had any child but his son 
 Djonder, but Khaled told him all that he had learned, and all 
 that had passed between himself and Djaida. At these words 
 Zahir was overcome with shame and turned his eyes to the 
 ground. He remained for some moments plunged in thought, 
 and after reflecting that the affair must needs proceed from bad 
 to worse, he addressed those present in the following words : 
 " Kinsmen, I will no longer delay acknowledging this secret ; 
 therefore to end the matter, she shall be married to her cousin 
 as soon as possible, for, of all the men I know, he is most 
 worthy of her." He offered his hand to Khaled, who immedi- 
 ately clasped it in presence of the chiefs who were witnesses to 
 the contract. The dowry was fixed at five hundred brown 
 black-eyed camels, and a thousand camels loaded with the 
 choicest products of Yemen. The tribe of Saad, in the midst 
 of which Zahir had lived, were excluded from all part in this 
 incident. 
 
 But when Zahir had asked his daughter's consent to this 
 arrangement, Djaida was overwhelmed with confusion at the 
 course her father had taken. Since he let his daughter clearly 
 understand that he did not wish her to remain unmarried, she 
 at last replied: " My father, if my cousin desires to have me in 
 marriage, I shall not enter into his tent until he undertakes to 
 slaughter at my wedding a thousand camels, out of those which 
 belong to Gheshem, son of Malik, surnamed " The Brandisher 
 of Spears." Kahled agreed to this condition ; but the sheiks 
 and the warriors did not leave Zahir before he had collected all
 
 KHALED AND DJAIDA aj 
 
 his possessions for transportation to his own country. No 
 sooner were these preparations completed than Khaled 
 marched forth at the head of a thousand horsemen, with whose 
 assistance he subdued the tribe of Aamir. Having thrice 
 wounded "The Brandisher of Spears," and slain a great num- 
 ber of his champions, he carried off their goods and brought 
 back from their country even a richer spoil than Djaida had de- 
 manded. Loaded with booty he returned, and was intoxicated 
 with success. But when he asked that a day should be fixed 
 for the wedding, Djaida begged him to approach, and said to 
 him : " If you desire that I become your wife, fulfil first of all 
 my wishes, and keep the engagement I make with you. This 
 is my demand : I wish that on the day of my marriage, some 
 nobleman's daughter, a free-born woman, hold the bridle of my 
 camel ; she must be the daughter of a prince of the highest 
 rank, so that I may be the most honored of all the daughters of 
 Arabia." Khaled consented, and prepared to carry out her 
 wishes. That very day he started with his horsemen, and 
 traversed plains and valleys, searching the land of Ymer, even 
 till he reached the country of Hijar and the hills of Sand. In 
 this place he attacked the tribe-family of Moawich, son of 
 Mizal. He burst upon them like a rain-storm, and cutting a 
 way with his sword through the opposing horsemen, he took 
 prisoner Amima, daughter of Moawich, at the very moment 
 when she was betaking herself to flight. 
 
 After having accomplished feats which rendered futile the 
 resistance of the most experienced heroes, after having scat- 
 tered all the tribes in flight, and carried off all the wealth of all 
 the Arabs in that country, he returned home. But he did not 
 wish to come near his tents until he had first gathered in all 
 the wealth which he had left at different points and places in 
 the desert. 
 
 The young maidens marched before him sounding their 
 cymbals and other instruments of music. All the tribe re- 
 joiced ; and when Khaled appeared, he distributed clothing to 
 the widows and orphans, and invited his companions and 
 friends to the feast he was preparing for his wedding. All the 
 Arabs of the country came in a crowd to the marriage. He 
 caused them to be regaled with abundance of flesh and wine. 
 But while all the guests abandoned themselves to feasting and 
 pleasure, Khaled, accompanied by ten slaves, prepared to scour
 
 J4 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 the wild and marshy places of the land, in order to attack hand 
 to hand in their caverns the lions and lionesses and their cubs, 
 and bear them slain to the tents, in order to provide meat for all 
 those who attended the festival. 
 
 Djaida had been informed of this design. She disguised 
 herself in coat of mail, mounted her horse, and left the tents ; 
 as three days of festivities still remained, she hastily followed 
 Khaled into the desert, and met him face to face in a cavern. 
 She flung herself upon him with the impetuosity of a wild 
 beast, and attacked him furiously, crying aloud, " Arab ! dis- 
 mount from your horse, take off your coat of mail, and your 
 armor ; if you hesitate to do so, I will run this lance through 
 your heart." Khaled was resolved at once to resist her in this 
 demand. They engaged in furious combat. The struggle 
 lasted for more than an hour, when the warrior saw in the eyes 
 of his adversary an expression which alarmed him. He re- 
 mounted his horse, and having wheeled round his steed from 
 the place of combat, exclaimed : " By the faith of an Arab, I 
 adjure you to tell me what horseman of the desert you are ; for 
 I feel that your attack and the violence of your blows are irre- 
 sistible. In fact, you have prevented me from accomplishing 
 that which I had intended, and all that I had eagerly desired 
 to do." At these words Djaida raised her visor, thus permit- 
 ting him to see her face. " Khaled," she cried, " is it neces- 
 sary for the girl you love to attack wild beasts, in order that the 
 daughters of Arabia may learn that this is not the exclusive 
 privilege of a warrior ? " At this cutting rebuke Khaled was 
 overcome with shame. " By the faith of an Arab," he replied, 
 ' no one but you can overcome me ; but is there anyone in this 
 country who has challenged you, or are you come hither 
 merely to prove to me the extent of your valor? " " By the 
 faith of an Arab," replied Djaida, " I came into this desert 
 solely for the purpose of helping you to hunt wild beasts, and 
 in order that your warriors might not reproach you for choos- 
 ing me as your wife." At these words Khaled felt thrilled with 
 surprise and admiration, that such spirit and resolution should 
 have been exhibited in the conduct of Djaida. 
 
 Then both of them dismounted from their horses and en- 
 tered into a cavern. There Khaled seized two ferocious wild 
 beasts, and Djaida attacked and carried off a lion and two 
 lionesses. After these exploits they exchanged congratula-
 
 KHALED AND DJAIDA 25 
 
 tions, and Djaida felt happy to be with Khaled. " Mean- 
 while," she said, " I shall not permit you to leave our tents un- 
 til after our marriage." She immediately left him in haste and 
 betook herself to her own dwelling. 
 
 Khaled proceeded to rejoin the slaves whom he had left a 
 little way off, and ordered them to carry to the tents the beasts 
 he had slain. Trembling with fright at the view of what 
 Khaled had done, they extolled him with admiration above all 
 other champions of the land. 
 
 The feasts meanwhile went on, and all who came were wel- 
 comed with magnificence. The maidens sounded their cym- 
 bals ; the slaves waved their swords in the air, and the young 
 girls sang from morn till evening. It was in the midst of such 
 rejoicings that Djaida and Khaled were married. Amima, the 
 daughter of Moawich, held the reins of the young bride's 
 camel, and men and women alike extolled the glory of Djaida.
 
 THE ABSIANS AND FAZAREANS 
 
 KING CAIS, chief of the Absians, distrusting the evil de- 
 signs of Hadifah, the chief of the tribe of Fazarah, 
 had sent out his slaves in every direction to look after 
 Antar. One of these slaves on his return said to the king: 
 " As for Antar, I have not even heard his name ; but as I 
 passed by the tribe of Tenim, I slept one night in the tents of the 
 tribe Byah, There I saw a colt of remarkable beauty. He be- 
 longed to a man named Jahir, son of Awef. I have never seen 
 a colt so fine and swift." This recital made a profound impres- 
 sion upon Cais. And in truth this young animal was the won- 
 der of the world, and never had a handsomer horse been reared 
 among the Arabs. He was in all points high-bred and re- 
 nowned for race and lineage, for his sire was Ocab and his dam 
 Helweh, and these were horses regarded by the Arabs as 
 quicker than lightning. All the tribes admired their points, 
 and the tribe of Byah had become celebrated above all others, 
 because of the mare and stallion which pertained to it. 
 
 As for this fine colt, one day, when his sire Ocab had been 
 put out on pasture, he was being led by the daughter of Jahir 
 along the side of a lake at noonday, and there he saw the mare 
 Helweh, who was tethered close to the tent of her master. He 
 immediately began to neigh, and slipped his halter. The 
 young girl in her embarrassment let him go, and for modesty 
 took refuge in the tent of a friend. The stallion remained on 
 the spot until the girl returned. She seized the halter and took 
 him to the stables. 
 
 But her father discerned the anxiety which she could not 
 conceal. He questioned her, and she told him what had hap- 
 pened. He became furious with rage on hearing her story, for 
 he was naturally choleric ; he ran among the tents, flinging oflf 
 his turban, and crying at the top of his voice, while all the 
 Arabs crowded round him, " Tribe of Byah, tribe of Byah ! 
 Kinsmen and friends, hear me." Then he related what his 
 
 26
 
 THE ABSIANS AND FAZAREANS 
 
 27 
 
 daughter had told him. " I cannot permit," he added, " that 
 the blood of my horse should be blended with that of Helweh ; 
 yet I am not willing to sell him for the most costly sheep and 
 camels ; and if I cannot otherwise prevent Helweh from bear- 
 ing a colt to my stallion, I shall be glad if some one will put 
 the mare to death." " By all means," cried his listeners, " do 
 as you please, for we can have no objection." Such were the 
 usual terms of Arabian courtesy. 
 
 Nevertheless, Helweh, in course of time, bore a fine colt, 
 whose birth brought great joy to her master. He named the 
 young horse Dahir. The colt waxed in strength and beauty, 
 until he actually excelled his sire Ocab. His chest was broad, 
 his neck long, his hoofs hard, his nostrils widely expanded. 
 His tail swept the ground, and he was of the gentlest temper ; 
 in short, he was the most perfect creature ever seen. Being 
 reared with the greatest care, his shape was perfect as the arch- 
 way of a royal palace. When the mare Helweh, followed by 
 her colt, was one day moving along the shore of a lake, Ocab's 
 owner chanced to see them. He seized the young horse, and 
 took him home with him, leaving his mother in grief for his 
 difference. " As for Jahir," he said, " this colt belongs to me, 
 and I have more right to him than anyone else." 
 
 The news of the colt's disappearance soon reached his own- 
 er's ears. He assembled the chiefs of the tribe, and told them 
 what had happened. They sent to Jahir, and he was re- 
 proached bitterly. " Jahir," they said, " you have not suffered, 
 yet have done injustice, in that you carried off that which be- 
 longed to another man." " Say no more," answered Jahir, 
 " and spare me these reproaches, for, by the faith of an Arab, I 
 will not return the colt, unless compelled by main force. I will 
 declare war against you first." At that moment the tribe was 
 not prepared for a quarrel ; and several of them said to Jahir : 
 " We are too much attached to you to push things to such an 
 extreme as that ; we are your allies and kinsmen. We will not 
 fight with you, though an idol of gold were at stake." Then 
 Kerim, son of Wahrab (the latter being the owner of the mare 
 and colt, a man renowned among the Arabs for his generosity), 
 seeing the obstinacy of Jahir, said to him : " Cousin, the colt is 
 certainly yours, and belongs to you ; as for the mare here, ac- 
 cept her as a present from my hand, so that mother and colt 
 will not be separated, and no one will be able to accuse me of 
 wronging a kinsman."
 
 28 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 The tribe highly applauded this act, and Jahir was so humili- 
 ated by the generosity with which he had been treated, that he 
 returned mare and colt to Kerim, adding to the gift a pair of 
 male and a pair of female camels. 
 
 Dahir soon became a horse of absolute perfection in every 
 point, and when his master Kerim undertook to race him with 
 another horse, he rode the animal himself, and was in the 
 habit of saying to his antagonist, " Even should you pass me 
 like an arrow, I could catch you up, and distance you," and in 
 fact this always happened. 
 
 As soon as King Cais heard tell of this horse, he became be- 
 side himself with longing and mortification, and his sleep left 
 him. He sent to Kerim, offering to buy the horse for as much 
 gold or silver as the owner demanded, and adding that the 
 price would be forwarded without delay. This message en- 
 raged Kerim. " Is not this Cais a fool, or a man of no under- 
 standing?" he exclaimed. "Does he think I am a man of 
 traffic — a horse-dealer, who cannot mount the horses he owns ? 
 I swear by the faith of an Arab that if he had asked for Dahir, 
 as a present, I would have sent the horse, and a troop of camels 
 besides : but if he thinks of obtaining him by bidding a price, 
 he will never have him ; even were I bound to drink the cup of 
 death." 
 
 The messenger returned to Cais, and gave him the answer 
 of Kerim, at which the latter was much annoyed. " Am I a 
 king over the tribes of Abs, of Adnan, of Fazarah, and of Dib- 
 yan," he exclaimed, " and yet a common Arab dares to oppose 
 me ! " He summoned his people and his warriors. Immedi- 
 ately there was the flash of armor, of coats of mail, and swords 
 and helmets appeared amid the tents ; the champions mounted 
 their steeds, shook their spears, and marched forth against the 
 tribe of Byah. As soon as they reached their enemy's territory 
 they overran the pastures, and gathered an immense booty in 
 cattle, which Cais divided among his followers. They next 
 made for the tents and surprised the dwellers there, who were 
 not prepared for such an attack : Kerim being absent with his 
 warriors on an expedition of the same sort. Cais at the head 
 of the Absians, pushing his way into the dwellings, carried off 
 the wives and daughters of his foe. 
 
 As for Dahir, he was tethered to one of the tent-pegs, for 
 Kerim never used him as a charger, for fear some harm might
 
 THE ABSIANS AND FAZAREANS 
 
 29 
 
 befall him, or he might be killed. One of the slaves who had 
 been left in the encampment, and had been among the first to 
 see the approach of the Absians, went up to Dahir for the pur- 
 pose of breaking the line by which he was hobbled. This he 
 failed to accomplish, but mounting him, and digging his heels 
 into his flanks, he forced the horse, although he was hobbled, 
 to rush ofif prancing like a fawn, until he reached the desert. 
 It was in vain that the Absians pursued him ; they could not 
 even catch up with the trail of dust that he left behind him. 
 
 As soon as Cais perceived Dahir, he recognized him, and the 
 desire of possessing him became intensified. He hurried on, 
 but his chagrin was great, as he perceived that, do what he 
 would, he never could catch up with him. At last the slave, 
 perceiving that he had quite out-distanced the Absians, dis- 
 mounted, untied the feet of Dahir, leapt again into the saddle, 
 and galloped ofT. Cais, who had kept up the pursuit, gained 
 ground during this stop, and coming within ear-shot of the 
 slave, shouted out, " Stop, Arab, there is no cause for fear ; 
 you have my protection ; by the faith of a noble Arab, I swear 
 it." At these words the slave stopped. " Do you intend to 
 sell that horse ? " said King Cais to him, " for in that case you 
 have the most eager buyer of all the Arabian tribesmen." " I 
 do not wish to sell him, sire," replied the slave, " excepting at 
 one price, the restoration of all the booty." " I will buy him 
 then," the King answered, and he clasped the hand of the 
 Arab as pledge of the bargain. The slave dismounted from 
 the young horse, and delivered him over to King Cais, and the 
 latter overjoyed at having his wish, leapt on to his back, and 
 set out to rejoin the Absians, whom he commanded to restore 
 all the booty which they had taken. His order was executed to 
 the letter. King Cais, enchanted at the success of his enter- 
 prise, and at the possession of Dahir, returned home. So great 
 was his fondness for the horse that he groomed and fed him 
 with his own hands. Soon as Hadifah, chief of the tribe of 
 Fazarah, heard that Cais had possession of Dahir, jealousy 
 filled his heart. In concert with other chiefs he plotted the 
 death of this beautiful horse. 
 
 Now it came to pass that at this time Hadifah gave a great 
 feast, and Carwash, kinsman of King Cais, was present. At 
 the end of the meal, and while the wine circulated freely the 
 course of conversation turned to the most famous chiefs of the
 
 30 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 time. The subject being exhausted, the guests began to 
 speak about their most celebrated horses, and next, of the 
 journeys made by them in the desert. " Kinsmen," said Car- 
 wash, " none of you ever saw a horse Hke Dahir, which be- 
 longs to my ally Cais. It is vain to seek his equal ; his pace 
 is absolutely terrifying. He chases away sorrow from the 
 heart of him who beholds him, and protects like a strong tower 
 the man who mounts him." Carwash did not stop here, but 
 continued to praise, in the highest and most distinguished lan- 
 guage, the horse Dahir, until all of the tribe of Fazarah and of 
 the family of Zyad, felt their hearts swell with rage. " Do you 
 hear him, brother?" said Haml to Hadifah ; "come, that is 
 enough," he added, turning towards Carwash. " All that you 
 have said about Dahir is absolute nonsense — for at present 
 there are no horses better or finer than mine, and those of my 
 brother." 
 
 With these words he ordered his slaves to bring his horses 
 and parade them before Carwash. This was done. " Come, 
 Carwash, look at that horse." " He is not worth the hay you 
 feed him on," said the other. Then those of Hadifah were led 
 out ; among them was a mare, named Ghabra, and a stallion 
 called Marik. " Now look at these," said Hadifah. " They 
 are not worth the hay they eat," replied Carwash. Hadifah, 
 filled with indignation at these words : " What, not even Gha- 
 bra ? " " Not even Ghabra, or all the horses in the world," re- 
 peated Carwash. " Would you like to make a bet for us with 
 King Cais ? " " Certainly," answered Carwash — " I will wager 
 that Dahir will beat all the horses of the tribe of Fazarah, even 
 if he carries a hundred weight of stone on his back." They 
 discussed the matter for a long time, the one affirming the 
 other denying the statements, until Hadifah closed the alterca- 
 tion by saying, " I hold to the wager, on condition that the 
 winner takes from the loser as many male and female camels as 
 he chooses." " You are going to play me a nice trick," said 
 Carwash, " and for my part I tell you plainly that I won't bet 
 more than twenty camels ; the man whose horse loses shall 
 pay this forfeit." The matter was arranged accordingly. 
 They sat at table until nightfall, and then rested. 
 
 The next day Carwash left his tent at early morn, went to 
 the tribe of Abs, to find Cais, whom he told about the wager. 
 " You were wrong," said Cais. " You might have made a bet
 
 THE ABSIANS AND FAZAREANS 31 
 
 with anyone excepting Hadifah, who is a man of tricks and 
 treachery. If you have made the wager, you will have to de- 
 clare it off." Cais waited until certain persons who were with 
 him had retired, then he at once took horse, and repaired to 
 the tribe of Fazarah, where everybody was taking their morn- 
 ing meal in their tents. Cais dismounted, took off his arms, 
 and seating himself among them began to eat with them, like 
 a noble Arab. " Cousin," said Hadifah to him jokingly, 
 " What large mouthfuls you take ; heaven preserve me from 
 having an appetite like yours." " It is true," said Cais, " that 
 I am dying of hunger, but by Him who abides always, and will 
 abide forever, I came not here merely to eat your victuals. My 
 intention is to annul the wager which was yesterday made be- 
 tween you and my kinsman Carwash. I beg of you to cancel 
 this bet, for all that is uttered over cups and flagons is of no 
 serious account, and ought to be forgotten." " I would have 
 you to know," was the answer, " that I will not withdraw from 
 the challenge, unless you forfeit the camels which are staked. 
 If you accept this condition, I shall bq perfectly indifferent to 
 everything else. Nevertheless, if you wish it, I will seize the 
 camels by force, or, if it be your good pleasure, I will waive 
 every claim, save as a debt of honor." In spite of all that Cais 
 could say, Hadifah remained firm in his resolution, and as his 
 brother began to deride Cais, the latter lost his temper, and 
 with a face blazing with wrath he asked of Hadifah, " What 
 stake did you offer in your wager with my cousin ? " " Twen- 
 ty she-camels," said Hadifah. " As for this first wager," an- 
 swered Cais, " I cancel it, and propose another one in its stead : 
 I will bet thirty camels." " And I forty," replied Hadifah. 
 " I make it fifty," was the retort of Cais. " Sixty," quickly 
 added the other ; and they continued raising the terms of the 
 wager, until the number of camels staked was one hundred. 
 The contract of the bet was deposited in the hands of a man 
 named Sabic, son of Wahhab, and in the presence of a crowd 
 of youths and old men. " What shall be the length of the 
 race?" asked Hadifah of Cais. "One hundred bow-shots," 
 replied Cais, " and we have an archer here, Ayas, the son of 
 Mansour, who will measure the ground." Ayas was in fact 
 the strongest and most accomplished archer then living among 
 the Arabs. King Cais, by choosing Ayas, wished the course 
 to be made long, knowing the endurance of his horse, and the
 
 32 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 longer distance Dahir had to travel, the more he gained speed, 
 from the increased excitement of his spirit. " Well now, we 
 had better fix the day for the race," said Cais to Hadifah. 
 " Forty days will be required," replied Hadifah, " to bring the 
 horses into condition." " You are right," said Cais, and they 
 agreed that the horses should be trained for forty days, that the 
 race should take place by the lake Zatalirsad, and that the 
 horse that first reached the goal should be declared winner. 
 All these preliminaries having been arranged, Cais returned to 
 his tents. 
 
 Meanwhile one of the horsemen of the tribe of Fazarah said 
 to his neighbors : " Kinsmen, you may rest assured that there 
 is going to be a breach between the tribe of Abs and that of 
 Fazarah, as a result of this race between Dahir and Ghabra. 
 The two tribes, you must know, will be mutually estranged, 
 for King Cais has been there in person ; now he is a prince 
 and the son of a prince. He has made every effort to cancel 
 the bet, but Hadifah would by no means consent. All this is 
 the beginning of a broil, which may be followed by a war, pos- 
 sibly lasting fifty years, and many a one will fall in the strug- 
 gle." 
 
 Hadifah hearing this prediction, said : " I don't trouble my- 
 self much about the matter, and your suggestion seems to me 
 absurd." " O Hadifah," exclaimed Ayas, " I am going to tell 
 you what will be the result of all your obstinacy towards Cais." 
 Then he recited some verses, with the following meaning: " In 
 thee, O Hadifah, there is no beauty ; and in the purity of Cais 
 there is not a single blot. How sincere and honest was his 
 counsels, although they were lacking in prudence and dignity. 
 Make a wager with a man who does not possess even an ass, 
 and whose father has never been rich enough to buy a horse. 
 Let Cais alone; he has wealth, lands, horses, a proud spirit, 
 and he is the owner of this Dahir, who is always first on the 
 day of a race, whether he is resting or running — this Dahir, a 
 steed whose feet even appear through the obscurity of night 
 like burning brands." " Ayas," replied Hadifah, " do you 
 think I would break my word ? I will take the camels of Cais, 
 and will not permit my name to be inscribed among the num- 
 ber of those who have been vanquished. Let things run their 
 course." 
 
 As soon as King Cais had regained his tents he hastened to
 
 THE ABSIANS AND FAZAREANS 
 
 33 
 
 tell his slaves to begin the training of his horses, and to pay 
 especial attention to Dahir. Then he told his kinsmen all that 
 had taken place between himself and Hadifah. Antar was 
 present at this recital, and as he took great interest in all that 
 concerned the king, he said, " Cais, calm your fears, keep your 
 eyes well open, run the race, and have no fear. For, by the 
 faith of an Arab, if Hadifah makes any trouble or misunder- 
 standing, I will kill him, as well as the whole tribe of Fazarah." 
 
 The conversation on this subject continued until they 
 reached the tents, which Antar declined to enter before seeing 
 Dahir. He walked several times round this animal, and saw 
 at a glance that the horse actually possessed qualities which 
 astonished any one who saw him. 
 
 Hadifah quickly learned the return of Antar, and knew that 
 the hero was encouraging King Cais to run the race. Haml, 
 Hadifah's brother, had also heard the news, and in the distress 
 which he felt remarked to Hadifah, " I fear lest Antar should 
 fall upon me, or some one of the family of Beder, and kill us, 
 and thus render us disgraced. Give up this race, or we are 
 ruined. Let me go to King Cais, and I will not leave him 
 until he promises to come to you and cancel the contract." 
 " Do as you please," answered Hadifah. Thereupon Haml 
 took horse, and went immediately to King Cais. He found 
 him with his uncle Assyed, a wise and prudent man. Haml ap- 
 proached Cais, saluted him by kissing his hand, and after say- 
 ing that he was the bearer of an important message, added: 
 " Kinsman, you know that my brother Hadifah is a low fellow, 
 whose mind is full of intrigues. I have spent the last three 
 days in trying to persuade him to cancel this wager. At last 
 he has said : ' Very good, if Cais comes to me, and wishes to 
 be released from the contract, I will annul it ; but do not let 
 any Arab think that I abandon the bet through fear of Antar.' 
 Now you, Cais, are aware that the greatest proof of attach- 
 ment between kinsmen is their willingness to give way to one 
 another. So I am here to beg that you will come to the dwell- 
 ing of my brother Hadifah and ask him to give up the race, be- 
 fore it causes trouble, and the tribe be utterly driven away from 
 its territories." At this address of Haml, Cais became flushed 
 with shame, for he was trusting and generous. He at once 
 arose, and leaving his uncle Assyed in charge of his domestic 
 business, he accompanied Haml to the land of Fazarah. When 
 Vol. IYa.—3 ^.
 
 34 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 they were midway on their journey Haml began to utter lavish 
 praises of Cais to the latter's face, and to blame his own 
 brother's faults, in the following terms : " O Cais, do not let 
 your wrath be stirred up against Hadifah, for he is verily a 
 man headstrong and unjust in his actions. O Cais, if you per- 
 sist in holding to the bet, great disasters will follow. Both you 
 and he are impulsive and passionate, and this is what causes me 
 to feel anxiety about you, Cais. Put aside your private feel- 
 ings, be kind and generous, and it will come to pass that the 
 oppressor himself will become the oppressed." 
 
 Haml continued to abuse his brother, and to flatter Cais with 
 expressions of admiration all the way, until in the evening they 
 arrived at the tribe of Fazarah. Hadifah, who at the moment 
 was surrounded by many powerful chiefs, upon whose aid he 
 depended in the hour of need, had changed his mind since his 
 brother Haml's departure, and in place of coming to terms and 
 making peace with Cais he had determined to yield in nothing, 
 but to maintain rigorously the conditions of the coming race. 
 He was speaking of this very matter with one of the chiefs at 
 the moment when Cais and Haml presented themselves before 
 him. As soon as Hadifah saw Cais, he resolved to cover him 
 with shame. Turning therefore to his brother, he asked : 
 " Who ordered you to go to this man ? By the faith of a noble 
 Arab, even if all the men who cover the surface of the earth 
 were to come and importune me, saying, ' O Hadifah, give up 
 one hair of these camels,' I would not yield until a lance had 
 pierced my heart and a sword stricken the head from my shoul- 
 ders." Cais crimsoned, and immediately remounted his horse, 
 bitterly reproaching Haml. He returned home with the ut- 
 most haste, and found his uncle and brothers waiting for him 
 in extreme anxiety. " O my son ! " said his uncle Assyed as 
 soon as he saw him, " you have had a disastrous journey, for 
 it has caused you to be disgraced." 
 
 " If Hadifah had not been surrounded by certain chiefs, who 
 gave him treacherous counsels, I could have arranged the 
 whole alTair," answered Cais. " There is now nothing left 
 but to carry out the race and the bet." 
 
 King Cais did not sleep the whole of that night. On the 
 morrow he thought of nothing but the training of his horses 
 during the forty days' interval before the race. All the Arabs 
 of the land agreed to come to the pastures and see the race, and
 
 THE ABSIANS AND FAZAREANS 35 
 
 when the forty days had expired the horsemen of the two 
 tribes came in a crowd to the banks of lake Zatahrsud. Next 
 arrived the archer Ayas, who, turning his back to the lake at 
 the point where the horses were to start, drew his bow as he 
 walked toward the north a hundred times, and measured out 
 to the goal the course of a hundred bow-shots. Soon the 
 horsemen of Ghitfan and Dibyan arrived, for they were of the 
 same territory, and because of their friendly relations and kin- 
 ship were comprised as one tribe under the name of Adnan. 
 King Cais had begged Antar not to show himself on this occa- 
 sion, fearing that his appearance might cause dissension. An- 
 tar listened to this advice, but was unable to rest quiet in the 
 tents. The interest he felt in Cais, and the deep distrust with 
 which the falseness of the Fazareans — who were always ready 
 for treason — inspired him, induced him to show himself. Gird- 
 ing on his sword Dhami, and mounting his famous charger, 
 Abjer, he took with him his brother Shidoub, and reached the 
 spot fixed upon for the race, in order that he might watch over 
 the safety of King Zoheir's sons. On his arrival he seemed to 
 excel all that crowd, like a lion clad in coat of mail. He car- 
 ried his naked sword, and his eyes flashed like blazing coals. 
 As soon as he had reached the middle of the crowd, he cried out 
 with a loud voice, that struck terror to all hearts : " Hearken, 
 noble Arabian chieftains and men of renown assembled here — ■ 
 all of you know that I was supported and favored by King Zo- 
 heir, father of King Cais, that I am a slave bound to him, by 
 his goodness and munificence; that it is he who caused my 
 parents to acknowledge me, and gave me my rank, making me 
 to be numbered among Arab chiefs. Although he is no longer 
 living, I wish to show my gratitude to him, and bring the kings 
 of the land into subjection to him, even after his death. He 
 has left a son, whom his brothers have acknowledged, and 
 have set on the throne of his father. This son is Cais, whom 
 they have thus distinguished, because of his wisdom, rectitude, 
 and noble heart. I am the slave of Cais, and am his property ; I 
 intend to be the supporter of him whom I love, and the enemy 
 of whosoever resists him. It shall never be said, as long as I 
 live, that I have suffered an enemy to affront him. As to the 
 conditions of this wager, it is our duty to see them observed. 
 The best thing, accordingly, to do is to let the horses race un- 
 obstructed, for victory comes from the creator of day and night.
 
 36 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 I make an oath, therefore, by the holy house at Mecca, by the 
 temple, by the eternal God, who never forgets his servants and 
 never sleeps, that if Hadifah commits any act of violence, I will 
 make him drink the cup of vengeance and of death ; and will 
 make the whole tribe of Fazarah the byword of all the world. 
 And you, Arab chieftains, if you sincerely desire the race to 
 take place, conduct yourselves with justice and impartiality; 
 otherwise, by the eyes of my dear Ibla, I will make the horses 
 run the race in blood." " Antar is right," the horsemen 
 shouted on all sides. 
 
 Hadifah chose, as the rider of Ghabra, a groom of the tribe 
 of Dibyan. This man had passed all his days and many of his 
 nights in rearing and tending horses. Cais, on the other hand, 
 chose as rider of Dahir a groom of the tribe of Abs, much bet- 
 ter trained and experienced in his profession than was the 
 Dibyan ian. When the two contestants had mounted their 
 horses King Cais gave this parting instruction to his groom : 
 " Do not let the reins hang too loosely in managing Dahir ; if 
 you see him flag, stand up in your stirrups, and press»his flanks 
 gently with your legs. Do not urge him too much, or you will 
 break his spirit." Hadifah heard this advice and repeated it, 
 word for word, to his rider. 
 
 Antar began to laugh. " By the faith of an Arab," he said 
 to Hadifah, " you will be beaten. Are words so scarce that 
 you are obliged to use exactly those of Cais ? But as a matter 
 of fact Cais is a king, the son of a king ; he ought always to be 
 imitated by others, and since you have followed, word by word, 
 his speech, it is a proof that your horse will follow his in the 
 desert." 
 
 At these words the heart of Hadifah swelled with rage and 
 indignation, and he swore with an oath that he would not let 
 his horse run that day, but that he wished the race to take place 
 at sunrise, next morning. This delay was indispensable to 
 him in preparing the act of perfidy which he meditated, for he 
 had no sooner seen Dahir than he was speechless with aston- 
 ishment at the beauty and perfections of the horse. 
 
 The judges had already dismounted and the horsemen of the 
 various tribes were preparing to return home, when Shidoub 
 began to cry out with a loud voice, " Tribes of Abs, of Adnan, 
 of Fazarah and of Dibyan, and all here present attend to me for 
 an instant, and listen to words which shall be repeated from
 
 THE ABSIANS AND FAZAREANS 37 
 
 generation to generation." All the warriors stood motionless. 
 "Speak on," they cried, "what is your will? Perhaps there 
 may be something good in your words." " Illustrious Arabs," 
 continued Shidoub, " you know what happened in consequence 
 of the match between Dahir and Ghabra : I assure you on my 
 life that I will outstrip both of them in running, even were they 
 swifter than the wind. But listen to the condition I offer ; if I 
 am the winner, I am to take the hundred camels which are at 
 stake ; but if I am beaten, I am to forfeit fifty." Upon this 
 one of the Sheiks of Fazarah exclaimed, " What is that you are 
 saying, vile slave ? Why should you receive a hundred camels 
 if you win and only forfeit fifty if you lose? " " Do you ask 
 why, ancient mire of a dunghill," replied Shidoub, " because I 
 have but two legs to run on and a horse has four, not counting 
 his tail." All the Arabs burst out laughing ; yet as they were 
 astonished at the conditions proposed by Shidoub, and ex- 
 tremely curious to see him run the race, they agreed that he 
 should make the hazardous experiment. 
 
 When all had returned to the tents Antar said to Shidoub : 
 " Come, now, thou son of a cursed mother, how dared thou say 
 that thou couldst outstrip these two horses, whose race all horse- 
 men of our tribes have assembled to see, and who all the world 
 admits have no equals in speed, not even among the birds of 
 the air? " " By him who created the springs in the rocks and 
 who knows all things," replied Shidoub, " I will outstrip those 
 two horses, be they fleet as the winds. Yes, and my victory 
 will have an advantageous result, for when the Arabs hear of 
 it, they will give up all idea of pursuing me, when I run across 
 the desert." Antar laughed, for he was in doubt about Shi- 
 doub's plan. The latter went to find King Cais and his broth- 
 ers, and the other witnesses of the race, and made oath on his 
 life that he would outstrip the two horses. All present ac- 
 knowledged themselves witnesses of the oath, and left the spot, 
 filled with astonishment at the proposition. 
 
 As for the trickster Hadifah, in the evening he summoned 
 one of his slaves named Dames, a rascal, if ever there was one. 
 " O Dames," he said, " you frequently boast of your cunning, 
 but hitherto I have had no opportunity of putting it to the 
 proof." " My Lord," answered the slave, " tell me in what 
 way I can be useful to you." " I desire," said Hadifah, " that 
 you go and post yourself in the great pass. Remain in this
 
 38 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 place, and go and hide yourself there in the morning. Watch 
 the horses well, and see if Dahir is in advance. If he is, show 
 yourself suddenly, strike him on the head, and cause him to 
 stop, so that Ghabra may outstrip him, and we may not incur 
 the disgrace of defeat. For I confess that since I have seen 
 Dahir, his excellent points have made me doubt the superiority 
 of Ghabra, and I fear my mare will be beaten, and we shall be- 
 come the laughing stock of all the Arabs." " But, sir, how 
 shall I distinguish Dahir from Ghabra when they advance, 
 both of them wrapped in a cloud of dust ? " Hadifah replied, 
 " I am going to give you a sign, and to explain how the matter 
 may be free from dif^culty." As he spoke he picked up some 
 stones from the ground and said : " Take these stones with you 
 at sunrise, begin to count them, and throw them to the earth, 
 four at a time. You must repeat the operation five times, and 
 the last time Ghabra will arrive. That is the calculation I have 
 made, so that if a cloud of dust presents itself to you, and some 
 of the stones, a third or a half of them, still remain in your hand, 
 you may be sure that Dahir has gained first place, and is be- 
 fore your eyes. You must then hurl a stone at his head, as I 
 said, and stop his running, so that my mare may gain the lead." 
 The slave agreed to do so. He provided himself with stones 
 and went to hide himself at the great pass, and Hadifah felt 
 confident of gaining the wager. 
 
 At the dawn of day, the Arabs, coming from all quarters, 
 were assembled on the race ground. The judges gave the 
 signal for the start, and the two riders uttered loud shouts. 
 The racers started like flashes of lightning which dazzle the 
 sight and seemed like the wind when, as it blows, it increases 
 in fury. Ghabra passed ahead of Dahir and distanced him. 
 " Now you are lost, my brother of the tribe of Abs," cried the 
 Fazarean groom to the Absian, " try and console yourself for 
 this defeat." " You lie," retorted the Absian, and in a few 
 moments you will see how completely you are mistaken. Wait 
 till we have passed this uneven ground. Mares always travel 
 faster on rough roads than on smooth country." And so it 
 happened, for when they arrived in the plain, Dahir shot for- 
 ward like a giant, leaving a trail of dust behind him. It seemed 
 as if he went on wings, not legs ; in the twinkling of an eye he 
 had outstripped Ghabra. " Here," cried the Absian to the 
 Fazarean groom, " send a messenger from me to the family of
 
 THE ABSIANS AND FAZAREANS 
 
 39 
 
 Beder, and you yourself drink the bitter cup of patience be- 
 hind me." Meanwhile Shidoub, swift as the north wind, kept 
 ahead of Dahir, bounding like a fawn and running like an 
 ostrich, until he reached the defile where Dames was hidden. 
 The slave had only thrown down less than a third of his peb- 
 bles, when he looked up and saw Dahir approaching. 
 
 He waited till the horse passed close by him, and suddenly 
 showed himself with a shout, and hit the racer violently be- 
 tween the eyes with a stone. The horse reared, stopped one 
 moment, and the rider was on the point of being unseated. 
 Shidoub was a witness to the incident, and having looked at the 
 slave, recognized him as belonging to the treacherous Hadifah. 
 In the violence of his rage he flung himself upon Dames, and 
 struck him dead with his sword ; then he approached Dahir for 
 the purpose of speaking soothingly to him, and starting him 
 again on the race ; but, alas, the mare Ghabra rushed up like 
 the wind. Then Shidoub, fearing defeat, thinking of the 
 camels he would forfeit, set out running at full speed towards 
 the lake, where he arrived two bow-shots in advance of the 
 horses. Ghabra followed, then Dahir last, bearing on his fore- 
 head the mark of the missile; his cheeks were covered with 
 blood and tears. 
 
 All the spectators were astounded on seeing the agility and 
 endurance of Shidoub ; but as soon as Ghabra had reached the 
 finish the Fazareans uttered loud shouts of joy. Dahir was 
 led home all bleeding, and his rider told the men of the tribe 
 of Abs what the slave had done. Cais examined the wound of 
 his horse and asked for full details of the occurrence. Antar 
 grew crimson with anger, and laid his hand upon his invincible 
 sword, as if impatient to annihilate the tribe of the Fazareans. 
 But the sheiks restrained him, although with difificulty, after 
 which they went to Hadifah to cover him with shame, and to 
 reproach him with the infamous deed he had done. Hadifah 
 denied it, with false oaths, affirming that he knew nothing of 
 the blow dealt to Dahir ; then he added, " I demand the camels 
 which are due to me, and I do not admit the treacherous pre- 
 text on which they are being withheld." 
 
 " That blow is doubtless of evil augury for the tribe of Faza- 
 rah," said Cais. " God will certainly give us victory and 
 triumph, and destroy them. For Hadifah only desired this 
 race to take place in order that it might cause trouble and dis-
 
 40 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 cord, and the disturbance which this contest is sure to excite 
 will stir up one tribe against another, so that there will be 
 many men killed, and children made orphans." The conver- 
 sation which followed among the tribesmen became more and 
 more excited, confusion followed, shouts rang out on all sides, 
 and drawn swords flashed. Bloodshed would have resulted had 
 not the sheiks and wise men dismounted and with bared heads 
 mingled with the crowd, with humble mien, imploring them, 
 until at last the matter was settled as harmoniously as possible. 
 It was agreed that Shidoub should receive the amount of the 
 wager — a hundred camels from the tribe of Fazarah, and that 
 Hadifah should abandon his claims and refrain from all dis- 
 pute. Such were the measures taken to extinguish the hos- 
 tility and disorder which threatened to burst out among the 
 tribes. Then the different families retired to their own dwell- 
 ings, but the hearts of all were filled with bitter hatred. One 
 whose resentment seemed keenest was Hadifah, especially 
 when he learned of the slave Dames's death. As for Cais, he 
 was also filled with mute rage and intense hatred. Yet Antar 
 tried to reassure him. " King," he said to him, " do not let 
 your heart be a prey to mortification ; for I swear by the tomb 
 of King Zoheir, your father, that I will cause disgrace and in- 
 famy to fall on Hadifah, and it is only from regard for you 
 that I have up to this time delayed action." Soon after all re- 
 turned to their tents. 
 
 The following morning Shidoub killed twenty of the camels 
 he had won the day before, and caused the meat to be distrib- 
 uted among the widows and those who had been wounded and 
 crippled in war. He slaughtered twenty others, which he 
 used in entertaining the tribe of Abs, including women and 
 slaves. Finally, the next day, he killed the rest of the camels 
 and made a great feast near the lake Zatalirsad, to which he 
 invited the sons of King Zoheir and his noblest chieftains. At 
 the end of this banquet, when the wine circulated among the 
 guests, all praised the behavior of Shidoub. But the news of 
 the camel slaughter and of all the feasting was soon known to 
 the tribe of Fazarah. All the enraged tribesmen hastened to 
 seek Hadifah. " What," said they, " while we were first in the 
 race, slaves and traitorous Absians have eaten our camels ! 
 Send for an equal number of camels, by all means ; but if he 
 refuses them let us make a terrible war upon the Absians."
 
 THE ABSIANS AND FAZAREANS 41 
 
 Hadifah raised his eyes upon his son Abou-Firacah. 
 " Mount horse at once," he said to him, " and go and say to 
 Cais: my father says that you must this instant pay the wager, 
 or he will come and seize the amount by main force, and will 
 bring trouble upon you." There was then present a chief 
 among the sheiks, who, hearing the order that Hadifah had 
 given to his son, said : " O Hadifah, are you not ashamed to 
 send such a message to the tribe of the Absians ? Are they not 
 our kindred and allies ? Does this proposal harmonize with 
 the counsel and desire of allaying dissensions ? The genuine 
 man shows gratitude for generosity and kindness. I think it 
 quite reasonable to expect that you desist from this perverse 
 mood, which will end in our total extermination. Cais has 
 shown himself quite impartial and has done wrong to no one ; 
 cherish, therefore, peace with the horsemen of the tribe of Abs. 
 Take warning from what happened to the slave Dames ; he 
 struck Dahir, the horse of King Cais, and God punished him 
 at once ; he is left bathed in his slavish blood. I beg you to 
 listen to none but wise counsels ; act nobly, and abandon base 
 designs. While you are thus forewarned as to your situation, 
 keep a prudent eye on your al^airs." This discourse rendered 
 Hadifah furious. " Contemptible sheik ! Dog of a traitor ! " 
 he exclaimed. " What ! Must I be in fear of Cais and the 
 whole tribe of the Absians ? By the faith of an Arab, I will 
 let all men of honor know that if Cais refuse to send the camels 
 I will not leave one of his tents standing." The sheik was in- 
 dignant, and to increase the fear he would cast into the heart 
 of Hadifah he spoke to him in verses, to the following effect : 
 " Insult is cowardliness, for it takes by surprise him who is not 
 expecting it, as the night enwraps those who wander in the 
 desert. When the sword shall once be drawn look out for 
 blows. Be just and do not clothe thyself with dishonor. En- 
 quire of those who know the fate of Themond and his tribe, 
 when they committed acts of rebellion and tyranny. They 
 will tell you that a command of God from on high destroyed 
 them in one night, and on the morrow they lay scattered on 
 the ground, their eyes turned towards the sky." 
 
 Hadifah dissembled his contempt for these verses and the 
 sheik who had pronounced them, but he ordered his son to go 
 at once to Cais. Abou-Firacah started for the tribe of Abs, 
 and as soon as he arrived there repaired to the home of Cais,
 
 42 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 who was absent. The messenger asked then for his wife, 
 Modehlah, the daughter of Rebia. " What do you desire of 
 my husband? " she asked. " I demand my due, the prize of 
 the horse race." " Misfortune take you and that which you 
 demand," she repHed. " Son of Hadifah ! Do you not fear 
 the consequences of such perfidy ? If Cais were here he would 
 send you to your death, instantly." Abou-Firacah returned to 
 his father, to whom he told all that the wife of Cais had said. 
 " What, you coward," shouted Hadifah, " do you come back 
 without completing your errand? Are you afraid of the 
 daughter of Rebia? Go to him again." 
 
 As Abou-Firacah reminded his father that it was now near 
 night-fall, the message was postponed until the next day. As 
 for Cais, when he re-entered his home, he learned from his 
 wife that Abou-Firacah had come to ask for the camels, " By 
 the faith of an Arab," he said, " if I had been here I would have 
 slain him. But the matter is closed ; let us think no more of 
 it." Yet King Cais passed the night in grief and annoyance 
 until sunrise, at which time he betook himself to his tent. 
 Antar came to see him. Cais rose, and making him take a 
 seat, mentioned the name of Hadifah. " Would you believe 
 he had the shamelessness to send his son to demand the 
 camels of me? Ah, if I had been present I would have slain 
 the messenger." Scarcely had he finished uttering these 
 words when Abou-Firacah presented himself on horseback. 
 Without dismounting, and uttering no word of salutation or 
 preface, he said : " Cais, my father desires that you send him 
 that which is his due ; by so doing your conduct will be that 
 of a generous man ; but if you refuse, my father will come 
 against you, carry off his property by force, and plunge you 
 into misfortune." 
 
 On hearing these words Cais felt the light change to darkness 
 before his eyes. " O thou son of a vile coward," he exclaimed, 
 " how is it that you are not more respectful in your address to 
 me ? " He seized a javelin and plunged it into the breast of 
 Abou-Firacah. Pierced through, the young messenger lost 
 control of his horse. — Antar dragged him down and flung him 
 on the ground. Then, turning the horse's head away from the 
 direction of Fazarah, he struck him on the flank with a holly- 
 stick, and the horse took the road towards the pastures, and 
 finally entered his stable, all covered with blood. The shep-
 
 THE ABSIANS AND FAZAREANS 
 
 43 
 
 herds at once led him to the tents, crying out, " Misfortune! 
 Misfortune ! " 
 
 Hadifah became furious. He smote upon his breast, repeat- 
 ing the words : " Tribe of Fazarah, to arms, to arms, to 
 arms ! " and all the disaffected came to Hadifah once more, 
 begging him to declare war on the Absians, and to take ven- 
 geance on them. " Kinsmen ! " replied Hadifah, with alacrity, 
 " let none of us sleep to-night without our armor on." And 
 so it happened. 
 
 At break of day Hadifah was on horseback ; the warriors 
 were ready, and only women and children and the feeble were 
 left in the tents. Cais, on the other hand, after slaying Abou- 
 Firacah, expected that the Fazareans would come and attack 
 himself and his warriors; he therefore prepared for battle. 
 Antar was charged with taking the necessary reconnoitre. He 
 left in the tents only women, children, and those too feeble to 
 bear the sword ; then he put himself in command of the heroes 
 of Carad. Nothing could be more brilliant than the ranks of 
 the Absians in their coats of mail and gleaming weapons. 
 These preparations caused an anxious moment for both par- 
 ties. They marched forth against each other, and the sun had 
 scarcely appeared, before scimitars flashed, and the whole 
 country was in a turmoil. 
 
 Antar was impatient to press forward, and satisfy his thirst 
 for battle ; but, lo ! Hadifah, dressed in a black robe, advances, 
 his heart broken by the death of his son. " Son of Zoheir," he 
 cried to Cais, " it is a base action to slay a child ; but it is good 
 to meet in battle, to decide with these lances which shall pre- 
 dominate, you or me." These words cut Cais to the quick. 
 Hurried along by passion he left his standard and rushed 
 against Hadifah. Then the two chiefs, spurred on by mutual 
 hatred, fought together on their noble chargers, until night- 
 fall. Cais was mounted on Dahir, and Hadifah on Ghabra. 
 In the course of this combat the exploits of the past were 
 eclipsed. Each tribe despaired of his chieftain's safety, and 
 they were eager to make a general attack, in order to stop the 
 struggle of the chieftains and the fury with which they con- 
 tended. Cries began to be heard in the air. Scimitars were 
 drawn, and lances advanced over the ears of Arabian chargers. 
 Antar approached certain Absian chiefs and said, " Let us at- 
 tack the traitors," He prepared to charge, when the ancients
 
 44 THE ROMANCE OF ANTAR 
 
 of the two tribes came forth into the middle of the plain, with 
 heads uncovered, their feet bared, and their idols hung from 
 their shoulders. Standing between the two armies they spoke 
 as follows: " Kinsmen and allies, in the name of that harmony 
 which has hitherto prevailed among us, let us do nothing that 
 will make us the byword of our slaves. Let us not furnish our 
 enemies with ground for reproaching us. Let us forget all 
 matter of dispute and dissension. Let us not turn wives into 
 widows and our children into orphans. Satisfy your warlike 
 ardor by attacking those among the Arabs who are your real 
 foes ; and you, kinsmen of Fazarah, show yourselves more 
 humble and less haughty, towards your brethren the Absians. 
 Above all, forget not that insolent wrong has often caused the 
 destruction of many tribes, which have had sore reason to re- 
 gret their impious actions ; in this way many men have been 
 deprived of their possessions, and a vast number been plunged 
 into the gulf of despair and regret. Expect the fatal hour of 
 death, the day of dissolution, for it is upon you. You will be 
 rent asunder by the threatening eagles of destruction, and en- 
 closed in the dark prison-house of the tomb. Take care, that 
 when your bodies are separated from life, men may think about 
 you without any other memory than that of your virtues." 
 
 The sheiks talked together for a long time, and meanwhile 
 the flame of passion which had been kindled in the soul of the 
 two heroes, Cais and Hadifah, became quenched. Hadifah 
 withdrew from the fight, and it was agreed that Cais should 
 pay as the price of Abou-Firacah's blood a quantity of cattle 
 and a string of camels. The sheiks did not wish even then to 
 quit the field of battle until Cais and Hadifah embraced each 
 other and had agreed to all the arrangements. Antar was 
 crimson with rage. " O King Cais," he exclaimed, " what 
 have you done ? What ! while our swords flash in our hands 
 shall the tribe of Fazarah exact a price for the blood of its dead ? 
 And we never be able to obtain retaliation excepting with our 
 spear points ! The blood of our dead is shed, and shall we 
 rrot avenge it ? " Hadifah was beside himself on hearing these 
 words. " And you, vile bastard," said Antar to him. " you 
 son of a vile mother, must your honor be purchased at the ex- 
 pense of our disgrace? But for the presence of these noble 
 sheiks I would annihilate you and all your people this very 
 instant."
 
 THE ABSIANS AND FAZAREANS 45 
 
 Then Hadifah's indignation and anger overleaped all 
 bounds. " By the faith of an Arab," he said to the sheiks, " I 
 wish to hear no talk of peace at the moment that the enemy is 
 ready to spear me." " Do not talk in that way, dear son of 
 my mother," said Haml to his brother. " Do not dart away 
 on the path of imprudence ; abandon these gloomy resolutions. 
 Remain in peace with the allies of the Absians, for they are 
 shining stars : the burnished sun that guides all Arabs who love 
 glory. It was but the other day that you wronged them by 
 causing the horse Dahir to be wounded, and thus erred from 
 the path of justice. As for your son, he was justly slain, for 
 you had sent him to demand something that was not due you. 
 After all, nothing is so proper as to make peace, for he who 
 would seek and stir up war is a tyrant, and an oppressor. Ac- 
 cept therefore the compensation offered you, or you are likely 
 to call up around us a fire which will burn us in the flames of 
 hell." Haml concluded with verses of the following import: 
 " By the truth of him who has rooted firm the mountains, with- 
 out foundations, if you decline to accept the compensation 
 offered by the Absians, you are in the wrong. They acknowl- 
 edge Hadifah as their chief; be a chief in very deed, and be 
 content with the cattle and camels offered you. Dismount 
 from the horse of outrage, and mount it not again, for it will 
 carry you to the sea of grief and calamity. Hadifah, renounce 
 like a generous man, all violence, but particularly the idea of 
 contending with the Absians. Make of them and of their 
 leader a powerful rampart against the enemies that may attack 
 us. Make of them friends that will remain faithful, for they 
 are men of the noblest intentions. Such are the Absians, and 
 if Cais has acted unjustly towards you, it is you who first set 
 him the example some days ago." 
 
 When Haml finished these verses, the chiefs of the different 
 tribes thanked him, and Hadifah having consented to accept 
 the compensation offered, all the Arabs renounced violence 
 and war. All who carried arms remained at home. Cais sent 
 to Hadifah two hundred camels, six men-slaves, ten women- 
 slaves, and ten horses. Thus peace was reestablished and 
 every one rested in tranquilHty throughout the land.
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 [Translation by J. D. Carlyle]
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE essential qualities of Arabian poetry appear in the 
 " Romance of Antar," and the tales of the " Thousand 
 and One Nights." For such a blending of prose and 
 verse is the favorite form of Arabian literature in its highest 
 and severest form, even in the drama. But the character of 
 the people is most clearly shown in the lyrical poems of the 
 Bedouin country. The pastoral poetry of the peninsula is so 
 local in its allusions that it cannot adequately be translated 
 into English. It is in the lyrics that we find that " touch of 
 nature which makes the whole world kin." The gorgeous- 
 ness of Hindoo literature, with its lavish description of jew- 
 elry and gold, precious stones and marbles, hideous demons, 
 and mighty gods, is not to be looked for in Arabia. There 
 the horizon is clear, and the plain has nothing but human 
 occupants. The common passions of men are the only pow- 
 ers at work ; love, war, sorrow, and wine, are the subjects 
 of these little songs, some of which might have been written 
 by " Anacreon " Moore, and others by Catullus. The influ- 
 ence of Greek poetry is indeed manifest in these light and 
 sometimes frivolous effusions. The sweetness and grace 
 which distinguish some are <v.ily equalled by the wit of others. 
 For wit is the prevailing characteristic of Arabian poetry, 
 which is attractive for its cleverness, its brightness, the alter- 
 nate smiles and tears which shine through it, and make the 
 present selections so refreshing and interesting a revelation of 
 the national heart and intellect. 
 
 I use the word refreshing, because some of the imagery of 
 these lyrics is new to me, and quite unparalleled in European 
 literature. What can be more novel, and at the same time 
 more charming than the following simile, with which a short 
 elegy concludes : — 
 
 " But though in dust thy relics lie, 
 Thy virtues, Mano, ne'er shall die; 
 
 Vol. IVa. — 4 49
 
 5© SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 Though Nile's full stream be seen no more, 
 That spread his waves from shore to shore, 
 Still in the verdure of the plain 
 His vivifying smiles remain." 
 
 The praise of a humble lot has been sung from Hafiz to 
 Horace, but never illustrated by a prettier conceit than the 
 Arabic poet has recourse to in this stanza : — 
 
 " Not always wealth, not always force 
 A splendid destiny commands; 
 The lordly vulture gnaws the corse 
 That rots upon yon barren sands. 
 
 " Nor want nor weakness still conspires 
 To bind us to a sordid state; 
 The fly that with a touch expires, 
 Sips honey from the royal plate." 
 
 This is undoubtedly a very original way of stating the 
 philosophic axiom of the Augustan poet, 
 
 " The lord of boundless revenues, 
 Do not salute as happy." 
 
 I have spoken of the wit of these verses, which is certainly 
 one of their distinguishing qualities. It is quite Attic in its 
 flavor and exquisitely delicate in its combined good-humor and 
 freedom from rancor. An epigram, according to the old defi- 
 nition, should be like a bee; it should carry the sweetness of 
 honey, although it bears a sting at the end. Sometimes the 
 end has a point which does not sting, as in the following quat- 
 rain of an Arabic poet : — 
 
 " When I sent you my melons, you cried out with scorn. 
 They ought to be heavy and wrinkled and yellow; 
 When I offered myself, whom those graces adorn, 
 You flouted, and called me an ugly old fellow." 
 
 Martial himself could not have excelled the wit of an epi- 
 gram addressed to a very little man who wore a very big beard, 
 which thus concludes : — 
 
 " Surely thou cherishest thy beard 
 in hope to hide thyself behind it."
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 51 
 
 To study a literature like that of the Arabians, even partially 
 and in a translation, is one of those experiences which enlarge 
 and stimulate the mind and expand its range of impressions 
 with a distinctly elevating and liberalizing effect. It has the 
 result of genuine education, in that it increases our capacity 
 for sympathy for other peoples, making us better acquainted 
 with the language in which they reveal that common human 
 heart which they share with us. E. W.
 
 SELECTIONS 
 FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 AN ELEGY* 
 
 Those dear abodes which once contain'd the fair, 
 
 Amidst Mitata's wilds I seek in vain, 
 Nor towers, nor tents, nor cottages are there, 
 
 But scatter'd ruins and a silent plain. 
 
 The proud canals that once Rayana grac'd. 
 Their course neglected and their waters gone, 
 
 Among the level'd sands are dimly trac'd, 
 
 Like moss-grown letters on a mouldering stone. 
 
 Rayana say, how many a tedious year 
 
 Its hallow'd circle o'er our heads hath roll'd. 
 
 Since to my vows thy tender maids gave ear, 
 And fondly listened to the tale I told? 
 
 How oft, since then, the star of spring, that pours 
 A never-failing stream, hath drench'd thy head? 
 
 How oft, the summer cloud in copious showers 
 Or gentle drops its genial influence shed ? 
 
 How oft since then, the hovering mist of morn 
 
 Hath caus'd thy locks with glittering gems to glow? 
 
 How oft hath eve her dewy treasures borne 
 To fall responsive to the breeze below? 
 
 * The author of this poem was a na- vanced age. This elegy, as is evident, 
 
 tive of Yemen. He was contemporary was written previous to Lebid's con- 
 
 with Mohammed and was already cele- version to Islamism. Its subject is one 
 
 brated as a poet when the prophet be- that must be ever interesting to the 
 
 gan to promulgate his doctrines. Lebid feeling mind — the return of a person 
 
 embraced Islamism and was one of the after a long absence to the place of his 
 
 most aggressive helpers in its estab- birth — in fact it is the Arabian " De- 
 
 lishment. He fixed his abode in the city serted Village." 
 of Cufa, where he died at a very ad- 
 
 S3
 
 54 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 The matted thistles, bending to the gale, 
 
 Now clothe those meadows once with verdure gay; 
 
 Amidst the windings of that lonely vale 
 The teeming antelope and ostrich stray. 
 
 The large-eyed mother of the herd that flies 
 Man's noisy haunts, here finds a sure retreat, 
 
 Here watches o'er her young, till age supplies 
 Strength to their limbs and swiftness to their feet. 
 
 Save where the swelling stream hath swept those walls 
 And giv'n their deep foundations to the light 
 
 (As the retouching pencil that recalls 
 A long-lost picture to the raptur'd sight). 
 
 Save where the rains have wash'd the gather'd sand 
 And bared the scanty fragments to our view, 
 
 (As the dust sprinkled on a punctur'd hand 
 Bids the faint tints resume their azure hue). 
 
 No mossy record of those once lov'd seats 
 Points out the mansion to inquiring eyes ; 
 
 No tottering wall, in echoing sounds, repeats 
 Our mournful questions and our bursting sighs. 
 
 Yet, midst those ruin'd heaps, that naked plain, 
 Can faithful memory former scenes restore, 
 
 Recall the busy throng, the jocund train. 
 And picture all that charm 'd us there before. 
 
 Ne'er shall my heart the fatal morn forget 
 That bore the fair ones from these seats so dear— 
 
 I see, I see the crowding litters yet, 
 And yet the tent-poles rattle in my ear. 
 
 I see the maids with timid steps descend, 
 
 The streamers wave in all their painted pride, 
 
 The floating curtains every fold extend, 
 
 And vainly strive the charms within to hide. 
 
 What graceful forms those envious folds enclose ! 
 
 What melting glances thro' those curtains play! 
 Sure Weira's antelopes, or Tudah's roes 
 
 Thro' yonder veils their sportive young survey!
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 The band mov'd on — to trace their steps I strove, 
 I saw them urge the camel's hastening flight, 
 
 Till the white vapor, like a rising grove, 
 
 Snatch'd them forever from my aching sight. 
 
 Nor since that morn have I Nawara seen. 
 The bands are burst which held us once so fast, 
 
 Memory but tells me that such things have been. 
 And sad Reflection adds, that they are past. 
 
 Lebid Ben Rabiat Alamary. 
 
 THE TOMB OF MANO 
 
 Friends of my heart, who share my sighs! 
 Go seek the turf where Mano lies, 
 And woo the dewy clouds of spring. 
 To sweep it with prolific wing. 
 
 Within that cell, beneath that heap, 
 Friendship and Truth and Honor sleep, 
 Beneficence, that used to clasp 
 The world within her ample grasp, 
 
 There rests entomb'd — of thought bereft — 
 For were one conscious atom left 
 New bliss, new kindness to display, 
 'Twould burst the grave, and seek the day. 
 
 But tho' in dust thy relics lie, 
 Thy virtues, Mano, ne'er shall die; 
 Tho' Nile's full stream be seen no more, 
 That spread his waves from shore to shore. 
 Still in the verdure of the plain 
 His vivifying smiles remain. 
 
 Hassan 'Alasady. 
 
 55
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 TOMB OF SAYID^ 
 
 Blest are the tenants of the tomb! 
 
 With envy I their lot survey ! 
 For Sayid shares the solemn gloom, 
 
 And mingles with their mouldering clay. 
 
 Dear youth ! I'm doom'd thy loss to mourn 
 When gathering ills around combine; 
 
 And whither now shall Malec turn, 
 Where look for any help but thine? 
 
 At this dread moment when the foe 
 My life with rage insatiate seeks, 
 
 In vain I strive to ward the blow, 
 My buckler falls, my sabre breaks. 
 
 Upon thy grassy tomb I knelt, 
 
 And sought from pain a short relief — 
 
 Th' attempt was vain — I only felt 
 Intenser pangs and livelier grief. 
 
 The bud of woe no more represt. 
 
 Fed by the tears that drench'd it there, 
 
 Shot forth and fill'd my laboring breast 
 Soon to expand and shed despair. 
 
 But tho' of Sayid I'm bereft, 
 
 From whom the stream of bounty came, 
 Sayid a nobler meed has left — 
 
 Th' exhaustless heritage of fame. 
 
 Tho' mute the lips on which I hung. 
 Their silence speaks more loud to me 
 
 Than any voice from mortal tongue, 
 " What Savid was let Malec be." 
 
 Abd Almalec Alharithy. 
 
 tion is taken fi 
 » viiA. 1 ii<- ^/»a..v i^>_..vj^j T...V.. ..^ ...wSt probable ths 
 flourished is unknown, but as this pro- Mohammedanism. 
 
 ■ Abd Almalec was a native of Arabia duction is taken from the Hamasa it is 
 Felix. The exact period when he most probable that he was anterior to
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 57 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF HIS MISTRESS' 
 
 Dost thou wonder that I flew 
 
 Charm'd to meet my Leila's view? 
 
 Dost thou wonder that I hung 
 
 Raptur'd on my Leila's tongue? 
 
 If her ghost's funereal screech 
 
 Thro' the earth my grave should reach, 
 
 On that voice I lov'd so well 
 
 My transported ghost would dwell : — 
 
 If in death I can descry 
 
 Where my Leila's relics lie, 
 
 Saher's dust will flee away, 
 
 There to join his Leila's clay. 
 
 Abu Saher Alhedily. 
 
 ON AVARICE* 
 
 How frail are riches and their joys? 
 Mom builds the heap which eve destroys; 
 Yet can they have one sure delight — 
 The thought that we've employ'd them right. 
 
 What bliss can wealth afford to me 
 When life's last solemn hour I see, 
 When Mavia's sympathizing sighs 
 Will but augment my agonies? 
 
 Can hoarded gold dispel the gloom 
 That death must shed around his tomb? 
 Or cheer the ghost which hovers there. 
 And fills with shrieks the desert air? 
 
 • The sentiment contained in this pro- mulgation of Mohammedanism. He 
 duction determines its antiquity. It was has been so much celebrated through 
 the opinion of the Pagan Arabs that the East for his generosity that even 
 upon the death of any person a bird, to this day the greatest encomium 
 by them called Manah, issued from his which can be given to a generous man 
 biain. which haunted the sepulchre of is to say that he is as liberal as Hatem. 
 the deceased, uttering a lamentable Hatem was also a poet; but his talents 
 scream. were principally exerted in recommend- 
 
 * Hatem Tai was an Arabian chief, ing his favorite virtue. 
 who lived a short time prior to the pro-
 
 58 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 What boots it, Mavia, in the grave, 
 Whether I lov'd to waste or save? 
 The hand that milHons now can grasp, 
 In death no more than mine shall clasp. 
 
 Were I ambitious to behold 
 Increasing stores of treasur'd gold, 
 Each tribe that roves the desert knows _ 
 I might be wealthy if I chose: — 
 
 But other joys can gold impart, 
 Far other wishes warm my heart — 
 Ne'er may I strive to swell the heap. 
 Till want and woe have ceas'd to weep. 
 
 With brow unalter'd I can see 
 
 The hour of wealth or poverty : 
 
 I've drunk from both the cups of fate. 
 
 Nor this could sink, nor that elate. 
 
 With fortune blest, I ne'er was found 
 To look with scorn on those around ; 
 Nor for the loss of paltry ore. 
 Shall Hatem seem to Hatem poor. 
 
 Hatem Ted. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF SKBl^K^ 
 
 Sabla, thou saw'st th' exulting foe 
 
 In fancied triumphs crown'd ; 
 Thou heard'st their frantic females throw 
 
 These galling taunts around: — 
 
 " Make now your choice — the terms we give. 
 
 Desponding victims, hear; 
 These fetters on your hands receive. 
 
 Or in your hearts the spear." 
 
 * This poem and the one following it Arabian clans, and of the rancor with 
 
 are both taken from the Hamasa and which they pursued each other, when 
 
 afford curious instances of the animos- once at variance, 
 ity which prevailed amongst the several
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 59 
 
 " And is the conflict o'er," we cried, 
 
 " And lie we at your feet? 
 And dare you vauntingly decide 
 
 The fortune we must meet? 
 
 " A brighter day we soon shall see, 
 
 Tho' now the prospect lowers, 
 And conquest, peace, and liberty 
 
 Shall gild our future hours." 
 
 The foe advanc'd : — in firm array 
 
 We rush'd o'er Sabla's sands, 
 And the red sabre mark'd our way 
 
 Amidst their yielding bands. 
 
 Then, as they writh'd in death's cold grasp, 
 
 We cried, " Our choice is made. 
 These hands the sabre's hilt shall clasp. 
 
 Your hearts shall have the blade." 
 
 Jaafer Ben Alba. 
 
 VERSES TO MY ENEMIES 
 
 Why thus to passion give the rein? 
 
 Why seek your kindred tribe to wrong? 
 Why strive to drag to light again 
 
 The fatal feud entomb'd so long? 
 
 Think not, if fury ye display, 
 
 But equal fury we can deal ; 
 Hope not, if wrong'd, but we repay 
 
 Revenge for every wrong we feel. 
 
 Why thus to passion give the rein? 
 
 Why seek the robe of peace to tear? 
 Rash youths desist, your course restrain, 
 
 Or dread the wrath ye blindly dare. 
 
 Yet friendship we not ask from foes. 
 Nor favor hope from you to prove, 
 We lov'd you not, great Allah knows. 
 Nor blam'd you that ye could not love.
 
 6o SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 To each are different feelings given, 
 
 This slights, and that regards his brother; 
 
 'Tis ours to live — thanks to kind heav'n — 
 Hating and hated by each other. 
 
 Alfadhel Ibn Alabas. 
 
 ON HIS FRIENDS « 
 
 With conscious pride I view the band 
 Of faithful friends that round me stand. 
 With pride exult that I alone 
 Can join these scatter'd gems in one : — 
 For they're a wreath of pearls, and I 
 The silken cord on which they lie. 
 
 'Tis mine their inmost souls to see, 
 Unlock'd is every heart to me, 
 To me they cling, on me they rest, 
 And I've a place in every breast : — 
 For they're a wreath of pearls, and I 
 The silken cord on which they lie. 
 
 Meskin Aldaramy. 
 
 ON TEMPERS 
 
 Yes, Leila, I swore by the fire of thine eyes, 
 I ne'er could a sweetness unvaried endure; 
 
 The bubbles of spirit, that sparkling arise. 
 Forbid life to stagnate and render it pure. 
 
 But yet, my dear maid, tho' thy spirit's my pride, 
 I'd wish for some sweetness to temper the bowl ; 
 
 If life be ne'er suffer'd to rest or subside, 
 It may not be flat, but I fear 'twill be foul. 
 
 Nabegat Beni J aid. 
 
 • These lines are also from the Hamasa. the fortieth year of the Hegira, aged one 
 ' There have been several Arabian hundred and twenty, he must have been 
 poets of the name of Nabegat. The fourscore at the promulgation of Islam- 
 author of these verses was descended ism; he, however, declared himself an 
 from the family of Jaid. As he died in early convert to the new faith.
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 6i 
 
 THE SONG OF MAISUNA« 
 
 The russet suit of camel's hair, 
 With spirits light, and eye serene, 
 
 Is dearer to my bosom far 
 Than all the trappings of a queen. 
 
 The humble tent and murmuring breeze 
 That whistles thro' its fluttering wall, 
 
 My unaspiring fancy please 
 
 Better than towers and splendid halls. 
 
 Th' attendant colts that bounding fly 
 And frolic by the litter's side, 
 
 Are dearer in Maisuna's eye 
 
 Than gorgeous mules in all their pride. 
 
 The watch-dog's voice that bays whene'er 
 A stranger seeks his master's cot, 
 
 Sounds sweeter in Maisuna's ear 
 Than yonder trumpet's long-drawn note. 
 
 The rustic youth unspoilt by art, 
 Son of my kindred, poor but free. 
 
 Will ever to Maisuna's heart 
 
 Be dearer, pamper'd fool, than thee. 
 
 TO MY FATHER' 
 
 Must then my failings from the shaft 
 
 Of anger ne'er escape ? 
 And dost thou storm because I've quaflF'd 
 
 The water of the grape? 
 
 • Maisuna was a daughter of the tribe Caliphate a.h. 6o; and in most re- 
 ef Calab; a tribe, according to Abulfeda, spects showed himself to be of a very 
 remarkable both for the purity of dialect diflFerent disposition from his predeces- 
 spoken in it, and for the number of sor. He was naturally cruel, avaricious, 
 poets it had produced. She was mar- and debauched; but instead of coaceal- 
 ried,_ whilst very young, to the Caliph ing his vices from the eyes of his sub- 
 Mowiah. But this exalted situation by jects, he seemed to make a parade of 
 no means suited the disposition of Mai- those actions which he knew no good 
 suna, and amidst all the pomp and Mussulman could look upon without 
 splendor of Damascus, she languished horror; he drank wine in public, he 
 for the simple pleasures of her native caressed his dogs, and was waited upon 
 desert. by his eunuchs in sight of the whole 
 
 • Yezid succeeded Mowiah in the court.
 
 6a SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 That I can tlius from wine be driv'n 
 
 Thou surely ne'er canst think — 
 Another reason thou hast giv'n 
 
 Why I resolve to drink. 
 
 'Twas sweet the flowing cup to seize, 
 
 'Tis sweet thy rage to see; 
 And first I drink myself to please; 
 
 And next — to anger thee. 
 
 Yezid. 
 
 ON FATALISM 10 
 
 Not always wealth, not always force 
 
 A splendid destiny commands ; 
 The lordly vulture gnaws the corse 
 
 That rots upon yon barren sands. 
 
 Nor want, nor weakness still conspires 
 
 To bind us to a sordid state ; 
 The fly that with a touch expires 
 
 Sips honey from the royal plate. 
 
 Imam Shafay Mohammed Ben Idris. 
 
 TO THE CALIPH HARUN-AL-RASHID " 
 
 Religion's gems can ne'er adorn 
 The flimsy robe by pleasure worn ; 
 Its feeble texture soon would tear, 
 And give those jewels to the air. 
 
 Thrice happy they who seek th' abode 
 Of peace and pleasure, in their God ! 
 Who spurn the world, its joys despise, 
 And grasp at bliss beyond the skies. 
 
 Ibrahim Ben Adham. 
 
 '* Shafay, the founder of one of the to tradition in their interpretations of 
 
 four orthodox sects into which the Mo- the Koran, the Hanifites consider them- 
 
 hammedans are divided, was a disciple selves as at liberty in any difficulty to 
 
 of Malek Ben Ana, and master to make use of their own reason. 
 
 Ahmed Ebn Hanbal; each of whom, "The author of this poem was a 
 
 like himself, founded a sect which is hermit of Syria, equally celebrated for 
 
 still denominated from the name of its his talents and piety. He was son to a 
 
 author. The fourth sect is that of Abou prince of Khorasan, and born about 
 
 Hanifah. This diflfers in tenets con- the ninety-seventh year of the Hegira. 
 
 sidcrably from the three others, for This poem was addressed to the Caliph 
 
 whilst the Malekites, the Shafaites, and upon his undertaking a pilgrimage to 
 
 the Hanbalites are invariably bigoted Mecca.
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 63 
 
 LINES TO HARUN AND YAHIA ^=^ 
 
 Th' affrighted sun ere while he fled, 
 And hid his radiant face in night ; 
 A cheerless gloom the world o'erspread — 
 But Harun came, and all was bright. 
 
 Again the sun shoots forth his rays, 
 Nature is deck'd in beauty's robe — 
 For mighty Harun's sceptre sways, 
 And Yahia's arm sustains the globe. 
 
 Isaac Almousely. 
 
 THE RUIN OF BARMECIDES" 
 
 No, Barmec! Time hath never shown 
 So sad a change of wayward fate; 
 
 Nor sorrowing mortals ever known 
 A grief so true, a loss so great. 
 
 Spouse of the world ! Thy soothing breast 
 Did balm to every woe afford; 
 
 And now no more by thee caress'd, 
 The widow'd world bewails her Lord. 
 
 TO TAKER BEN HOSIEN** 
 
 A pair of right hands and a single dim eye 
 Must form not a man, but a monster, they cry : — 
 Change a hand to an eye, good Taher, if you can, 
 And a monster perhaps may be chang'd to man. 
 
 " Isaac Almousely is considered by of Persia, and possessed immense yrop- 
 the Orientals as the most celebrated mu- erty in various countries; they derived 
 sician that ever flourished in the world. still more consequence from the favor 
 He was born in Persia, but having re- which they enjoyed at the court of Bag- 
 sided almost entirely at Mousel, he is dad, where, for many years, they filled 
 generally supposed to haye been a native the highest offices of the state with uni- 
 of that place. versal approbation. 
 
 " The family of Barmec was one of ** Taher Ben Hosien was ambidexter 
 
 the most illustrious in the East. They and one-eyed and, strange to say, the 
 
 were descended from the ancient kings most celebrated general of his time.
 
 64 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 THE ADIEU" 
 
 The boatmen shout, " Tis time to part. 
 
 No longer we can stay " — 
 'Twas then Maimuna taught my heart 
 
 How much a glance could say. 
 
 .With trembling steps to me she came; 
 
 " Farewell," she would have cried, 
 But ere her lips the word could frame 
 
 In half-form'd sounds it died. 
 
 Then bending down with looks of love, 
 
 Her arms she round me flung, 
 h\nd, as the gale hangs on the grove, 
 
 Upon my breast she hung. 
 
 My willing arms embrac'd the maid. 
 
 My heart with raptures beat; 
 While she but wept the more and said, 
 
 " Would we had never met ! " 
 
 Abou Mohammed. 
 
 TO MY MISTRESS" 
 
 Ungenerous and mistaken maid, 
 To scorn me thus because I'm poor! 
 
 Canst thou a liberal hand upbraid 
 
 For dealing round some worthless ore ? 
 
 To spare 's the wish of little souls. 
 
 The great but gather to bestow ; 
 Yon current down the mountain rolls, 
 
 And stagnates in the swamp below. 
 
 Abou Teman Habib. 
 
 " This was sung before the Caliph and ordering him a preaent of an hun- 
 
 VVathek, by Abou Mohammed, a mu- dred thousand dirhems. 
 
 sician of Bagdad, as a specimen of his '* Abou Teman is considered the most 
 
 musical talents; and such were its ef- excellent of all the Arabian poets. He 
 
 fects upon the Caliph, that he imme- was born near Damascus a.h. iqo, and 
 
 diately testified his approbation of the educated in Egypt; but the principal 
 
 performance by throwing his own robe part of his life was spent at Bagdad, 
 
 over the shoulders of Abou Mohammed, under the patronage of the Abasside 
 
 Caliphs.
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 65 
 
 TO A FEMALE CUP-BEARER ^^ 
 
 Come, Leila, fill the goblet up. 
 
 Reach round the rosy wine, 
 Think not that we will take the cup 
 
 From any hand but thine. 
 
 A draught like this 'twere vain to seek. 
 
 No grape can such supply ; 
 It steals its tint from Leila's cheek, 
 
 Its brightness from her eye. 
 
 Abd Alsalam Ben Ragban. 
 
 MASHDUD ON THE MONKS OF KHABBET^* 
 
 Tenants of yon hallow 'd fane! 
 
 Let me your devotions share, 
 There increasing raptures reign — 
 
 None are ever sober there. 
 
 Crowded gardens, festive bowers 
 Ne'er shall claim a thought of mine; 
 
 You can give in Khabbet's towers — 
 Purer joys and brighter wine. 
 
 Tho' your pallid faces prove 
 
 How you nightly vigils keep, 
 'Tis but that you ever love 
 
 Flowing goblets more than sleep. 
 
 Tho' your eye-balls dim and sunk 
 
 Stream in penitential guise, 
 'Tis but that the wine you've drunk 
 
 Bubbles over from your eyes. 
 
 "Abd Alsalam was a poet more re- 236th year of the Hegira, aged near 
 
 markable for abilities than morality. eighty. 
 
 We may form an idea of the nature of ^* The three following songs were 
 
 his compositions from the nicknanie he written by Mashdud, Rakeek, and Rais, 
 
 acquired amongst his contemporaries of three of the most celebrated improvisa- 
 
 Cock of the Evil Genii. He died in the tors in Bagdad, at an entertainment 
 
 given by Abou Isy. 
 
 Vol. IVa.— 5
 
 66 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 RAKEEK TO HIS FEMALE COMPANIONS 
 
 Tho' the peevish tongues upbraid, 
 Tho' the brows of wisdom scowl. 
 
 Fair ones here on roses laid, 
 Careless will we quaff the bowl. 
 
 Let the cup, with nectar crown'd. 
 Thro' the grove its beams display. 
 
 It can shed a lustre round. 
 
 Brighter than the torch of day. 
 
 Let it pass from hand to hand, 
 Circling still with ceaseless flight. 
 
 Till the streaks of gray expand 
 O'er the fleeting robe of night. 
 
 As night flits, she does but cry, 
 
 " Seize the moments that remain "— 
 
 Thus our joys with yours shall vie, 
 Tenants of yon hallow'd fane! 
 
 DIALOGUE BY RAIS 
 
 Rais 
 
 Maid of sorrow, tell us why 
 
 Sad and drooping hangs thy head? 
 
 Is it grief that bids thee sigh? 
 Is it sleep that flies thy bed? 
 
 Lady 
 
 Ah! I mourn no fancied wound. 
 
 Pangs too true this heart have wrung", 
 
 Since the snakes which curl around 
 Selim's brows my bosom stung.
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 67 
 
 Destin'd now to keener woes, 
 
 I must see the youth depart, 
 He must go, and as he goes 
 
 Rend at once my bursting heart. 
 
 Slumber may desert my bed, 
 
 'Tis not slumber's charms I seek — 
 
 *Tis the robe of beauty spread 
 O'er my Sehm's rosy cheek. 
 
 TO A LADY WEEPING^' 
 
 When I beheld thy blue eyes shine 
 Thro' the bright drop that pity drew, 
 
 I saw beneath those tears of thine 
 A blue-ey'd violet bath'd in dew. 
 
 The violet ever scents the gale, 
 
 Its hues adorn the fairest wreath, 
 But sweetest thro' a dewy veil 
 
 Its colors glow, its odors breathe. 
 
 And thus thy charms in brightness rise — 
 When wit and pleasure round thee play, 
 
 When mirth sits smiling in thine eyes, 
 Who but admires their sprightly ray? 
 
 But when thro' pity's flood they gleam, 
 
 Who but must love their soften'd beam ? 
 
 Ebn Alrumi 
 
 ON A VALETUDINARIAN 
 
 So careful is Isa, and anxious to last. 
 
 So afraid of himself is he grown, 
 He swears thro' two nostrils the breath goes too fast. 
 
 And he's trying to breathe thro' but one. 
 
 Ebn Alrumi. 
 
 *• Ebn Alrumi is reckoned by the birth a Syrian, and passed the greatest 
 Arabian writers as one of the most ex- part of his time at Emessa, where he 
 cellent of all their poets. He was by died a.h. 283.
 
 68 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY, 
 
 ON A MISER 
 
 " Hang her, a thoughtless, wasteful fool, 
 She scatters corn where'er she goes "— 
 
 Quoth Hassan, angry at his mule, 
 That dropt a dinner to the crows. 
 
 Ebn Alrumi 
 
 TO CASSIM OBIO ALLAH" 
 
 Poor Cassim ! thou art doom'd to mourn 
 
 By destiny's decree ; 
 Whatever happens it must turn 
 
 To misery for thee. 
 
 Two sons hadst thou, the one thy pride, 
 
 The other was thy pest; 
 Ah, why did cruel death decide 
 
 To snatch away the best? 
 
 No wonder thou shouldst droop with woe, 
 
 Of such a child bereft; 
 But now thy tears must doubly flow. 
 
 For, ah! the other's left, 
 
 Aly Ben Ahmed Ben Mansour, 
 
 A FRIEND'S BIRTHDAY" 
 
 When born, in tears we saw thee drown'd. 
 While thine assembled friends around. 
 
 With smiles their joy confest ; 
 So live, that at thy parting hour. 
 They may the flood of sorrow pour, 
 
 And thou in smiles be drest! 
 
 * Aly Ben Ahmed distinguished him- ence to him whether an enemy or a 
 
 self in prose as well as poetry, and an brother smarted under its severity. He 
 
 historical work of considerable reputa- died at Bagdad a.h. 301. 
 
 tion, of which he was the author, is *^ The thought contained in these 
 
 still extant. But he principally excelled lines, appears so natural and so obvious, 
 
 in satire, and so fond was he of indulg- that one wonders it did not occur to all 
 
 ing this dangerous talent that no one who have attempted to write upon a 
 
 esaaped his lash; if he could only bring birthday or a death. 
 out a sarcasm, it was matter of indiffer-
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 69 
 
 TO A CAT 
 
 Poor Puss is gone! 'Tis fate's decree — 
 
 Yet I must still her loss deplore, 
 For dearer than a child was she, 
 
 And ne'er shall I behold her more. 
 
 With many a sad presaging tear 
 
 This mom I saw her steal away. 
 While she went on without a fear 
 
 Except that she should miss her prey. 
 
 I saw her to the dove-house climb, 
 With cautious feet and slow she stept 
 
 Resolv'd to balance loss of time 
 By eating faster than she crept. 
 
 Her subtle foes were on the watch. 
 And mark'd her course, with fury fraught, 
 
 And while she hoped the birds to catch. 
 An arrow's point the huntress caught. 
 
 In fancy she had got them all. 
 
 And drunk their blood and suck'd their breath; 
 Alas ! she only got a fall, 
 
 And only drank the draught of death. 
 
 Why, why was pigeons' flesh so nice, 
 
 That thoughtless cats should love it thus? 
 
 Hadst thou but liv'd on rats and mice, 
 Thou hadst been living still, poor Puss. 
 
 Curst be the taste, howe'er refined, 
 
 That prompts us for such joys to wish. 
 
 And curst the dainty where we find 
 Destruction lurking in the dish. 
 
 Ibn Alalaf Alnaharwany.
 
 7© SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 AN EPIGRAM UPON EBN NAPHTA-WAH « 
 
 By the former with ruin and death we are curst, 
 In the latter we grieve for the ills of the first ; 
 And as for the whole, where together they meet, 
 It's a drunkard, a liar, a thief, and a cheat. 
 
 Mohammed Ben Zeid Almotakalam. 
 
 FIRE " 
 'A Riddle. 
 
 The loftiest cedars I can eat. 
 
 Yet neither paunch nor mouth have I, 
 I storm whene'er you give me meat. 
 
 Whene'er you give me drink, I die. 
 
 TO A LADY BLUSHING" 
 
 Leila, whene'er I gaze on thee 
 
 My alter'd cheek turns pale, 
 While upon thine, sweet maid, I see 
 
 A deep'ning blush prevail. 
 
 Leila, shall I the cause impart 
 Why such a change takes place? 
 
 The crimson stream deserts my heart, 
 To mantle on thy face. 
 
 The Caliph Radhi Billah. 
 
 " Mohammed Ben Arfa, here called standing its absurdity, however. It is 
 
 Naphta-Wah, was descended from a inserted merely to show that this mode 
 
 noble family in Khorasan. He applied of trifling was not unknown to the 
 
 himself to study with indefatigable per- Orientals. It is taken from the Mosta- 
 
 severance, and was a very voluminous traf, where a great number of similar 
 
 author in several branches of literature, productions on various subjects are pre- 
 
 but he is chiefly distinguished as a gram- served. 
 
 marian. He died in the year of the " Radhi Billahj son to Moctader, was 
 
 Hegira 3*3. the twentieth Caliph of the house of 
 
 ** This composition seems a fit sup- Abbas, and the last of these princes who 
 
 plement to the preceding one; notwitn- possessed any substantial power.
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 71 
 
 ON THE VICISSITUDES OF LIFE 
 
 Mortal joys, however pure, 
 
 Soon their turbid source betray; 
 Mortal bliss, however sure, 
 
 Soon must totter and decay. 
 
 Ye who now, with footsteps keen. 
 Range through hope's delusive field, 
 
 Tell us what the smiling scene 
 To your ardent grasp can yield? 
 
 Other youths have oft before 
 
 Deem'd their joys would never fade, 
 
 Till themselves were seen no more 
 Swept into oblivion's shade. 
 
 Who, with health and pleasure gay, 
 
 E'er his fragile state could know. 
 Were not age and pain to say 
 
 Man is but the child of woe? 
 
 The Caliph Radhi Billah. 
 
 TO A DOVE 
 
 The Dove to ease an aching breast, 
 In piteous murmurs vents her cares; 
 
 Like me she sorrows, for opprest. 
 Like me, a load of grief she bears. 
 
 Her plaints are heard in every wood, 
 While I would fain conceal my woes ; 
 
 But vain's my wish, the briny flood, 
 The more I strive, the faster flows. 
 
 Sure, gentle Bird, my drooping heart 
 Divides the pangs of love with thine, 
 
 And plaintive murm'rings are thy part, 
 And silent grief and tears are mine. 
 
 Serage Alwarak.
 
 72 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 ON A THUNDER STORM 
 
 Bright smil'd the morn, till o'er its head 
 The clouds in thicken'd foldings spread 
 
 A robe of sable hue; 
 Then, gathering round day's golden king, 
 They stretch'd their wide o'ershadowing wing, 
 
 And hid him from our view. 
 
 The rain his absent beams deplor'd, 
 And, soften'd into weeping, pour'd 
 
 Its tears in many a flood; 
 The lightning laughed with horrid glare ; 
 The thunder growl'd, in rage; the air 
 
 In silent sorrow stood. 
 
 Ibrahim Ben Khiret Ahou Isaac, 
 
 TO MY FAVORITE MISTRESS 
 
 I saw their jealous eyeballs roll, 
 
 I saw them mark each glance of mine, 
 
 I saw thy terrors, and my soul 
 
 Shar'd ev'ry pang that tortur'd thine. 
 
 In vain to wean my constant heart. 
 Or quench my glowing flame, they strove ; 
 
 Each deep-laid scheme, each envious art, 
 But wak'd my fears for her I love. 
 
 'Twas this compell'd the stern decree, 
 That forc'd thee to those distant towers. 
 
 And left me nought but love for thee. 
 To cheer my solitary hours. 
 
 Yet let not Abla sink deprest, 
 
 Nor separation's pangs deplore; 
 We meet not — 'tis to meet more blest; 
 
 We parted — 'tis to part no more. 
 
 Saif Addaidet, Sultan of Aleppo.
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 73 
 
 CRUCIFIXION OF EBN BAKIAH" 
 
 Whate'er thy fate, in life and death, 
 Thou'rt doom'd above us still to rise, 
 
 Whilst at a distance far beneath 
 We view thee with admiring eyes. 
 
 The gazing crowds still round thee throng, 
 Still to thy well-known voice repair, 
 
 As when erewhile thy hallow'd tongue 
 Pour'd in the Mosque the solemn prayer. 
 
 Still, generous Vizir, we survey 
 
 Thine arms extended o'er our head, 
 
 As lately, in the festive day, 
 
 When they were stretch'd thy gifts to shed. 
 
 Earth's narrow boundaries strove in vain 
 
 To limit thy aspiring mind. 
 And now we see thy dust disdain 
 
 Within her breast to be confin'd. 
 
 The earth's too small for one so great, 
 
 Another mansion thou shalt have — 
 The clouds shall be thy winding sheet, 
 
 The spacious vault of heaven thy grave. 
 
 Abou Hassan Alanbary. 
 
 CAPRICES OF FORTUNE" 
 
 Why should I blush that Fortune's frown 
 Dooms me life's humble paths to tread? 
 
 To live unheeded, and unknown? 
 To sink forgotten to the dead? 
 
 * Ebn Bakiah was vizir to Azzad Ad- Shems Almaali Cabus. He is described 
 
 daulet or Bachteir, Emir Alomra of as possessed of almost every virtue and 
 
 Bagdad, under the Caliphs Moti Lillah every accomplishment: his piety, jus- 
 
 and Tay Lillah; but Azzad Addaulet tice, generosity, and humanity, are uni- 
 
 being deprived of his office, and driven versally celebrated; nor was he less con- 
 
 from Bagdad bv Adhed Addaulet, Sul- spicuous for intellectual powers; his 
 
 tan of Persia, Ebn Bakiah was seized genius was at once penetrating, solid, 
 
 and crucified at the gates of the city, by and brilliant, and he distinguished him- 
 
 order of the conqueror. self equally as an orator, a philosopher, 
 
 *• History can show few princes so and a poet, 
 amiable and few so unfortunate as
 
 74 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 'Tis not the good, the wise, the brave, 
 That surest shine, or highest rise; 
 
 The feather sports upon the wave. 
 The pearl in ocean's cavern lies. 
 
 Each lesser star that studs the sphere 
 
 Sparkles with undiminish'd light : 
 Dark and eclips'd alone appear 
 
 The lord of day, the queen of night. 
 
 Shems Almaali Cabus. 
 
 ON LIFE 
 
 Like sheep, we're doom'd to travel o'er 
 The fated track to all assign'd, 
 
 These follow those that went before. 
 And leave the world to those behind. 
 
 As the flock seeks the pasturing shade, 
 Man presses to the future day. 
 
 While death, amidst the tufted glade, 
 Like the dun robber,* waits his prey. 
 
 EXTEMPORE VERSES ^^ 
 
 Lowering as Barkaidy's face 
 
 The wintry night came in. 
 Cold as the music of his bass. 
 
 And lengthen'd as his chin. 
 
 Sleep from my aching eyes had fled. 
 
 And kept as far apart, 
 As sense from Ebn Fahdi's head, 
 
 Or virtue from his heart. 
 
 *< The occasion of the following com- poet to give a specimen of his talents, 
 
 position is thus related by Abulfeda. which at the same time should convey 
 
 Carawash, Sultan of Mouse!, being one a satire upon the three courtiers, and a 
 
 wintry evening engaged in a party of compliment to himself. Ebn Alramac- 
 
 pleasurc along with Barkaidy, Ebn ram took his subject from the stormy 
 
 Fahdi, Abou Jaber, and the improvisa- appearance of the night, and imme- 
 
 tore poet, Ebn Alramacram, resolved diately produced these verses, 
 
 to divert himself at the expense of his * The wolf . 
 companions. He therefore ordered the
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 The dubious paths my footsteps balk'd, 
 
 I shpp'd along the sod, 
 As if on Jaber's faith I'd walk'd, 
 
 Or on his truth had trod. 
 
 At length the rising King of day 
 
 Burst on the gloomy wood, 
 Like Carawash's eye, whose ray 
 
 Dispenses every good. 
 
 75 
 
 Ebn Alramacram. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A SON ^^ 
 
 Tyrant of man ! Imperious Fate ! 
 
 I bow before thy dread decree, 
 Nor hope in this uncertain state 
 
 To find a seat secure from thee. 
 
 Life is a dark, tumultuous stream, 
 With many a care and sorrow foul, 
 
 Yet thoughtless mortals vainly deem 
 That it can yield a limpid bowl. 
 
 Think not that stream will backward flow. 
 Or cease its destin'd course to keep ; 
 
 As soon the blazing spark shall glow 
 Beneath the surface of the deep. 
 
 Believe not Fate at thy command 
 Will grant a meed she never gave; 
 
 As soon the airy tower shall stand. 
 That's built upon a passing wave. 
 
 Life is a sleep of threescore years, 
 
 Death bids us wake and hail the light. 
 
 And man, with all his hopes and fears, 
 Is but a phantom of the night. 
 
 Aly Ben Mohammed Altahmany. 
 
 *• Aly Ben Mohammed was a native of that part of Arabia called Hejaz; and 
 was celebrated not only as a poet, but as a politician.
 
 76 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 TO LEILA 
 
 Leila, with too successful art, 
 
 Has spread for me love's cruel snare ; 
 
 And now, when she has caught my heart, 
 She laughs, and leaves it to despair. 
 
 Thus the poor sparrow paaits for breath, 
 
 Held captive by a playful boy, 
 And while it drinks the draught of death, 
 
 The thoughtless child looks on with joy. 
 
 Ah ! were its flutt'ring pinions free, 
 Soon would it bid its chains adieu, 
 
 Or did the child its suflf'rings see, 
 He'd pity and relieve them too. 
 
 ON MODERATION IN OUR PLEASURES ^^ 
 
 How oft does passion's grasp destroy 
 The pleasure that it strives to gain? 
 
 How soon the thoughtless course of joy 
 Is doom'd to terminate in pain? 
 
 When prudence would thy steps delay, 
 She but restrains to make thee blest; 
 
 Whate'er from joy she lops away. 
 But heightens and secures the rest. 
 
 Wouldst thou a trembling flame expand, 
 
 That hastens in the lamp to die? 
 With careful touch, with sparing hand, 
 
 The feeding stream of life supply. 
 
 But if thy flask profusely sheds 
 
 A rushing torrent o'er the blaze, 
 Swift round the sinking flame it spreads. 
 
 And kills the fire it fain would raise. 
 
 Abou Alcassini Ebn Tabataba. 
 
 ■•Tabataba deduced his pedigree from descendants of the Prophet, a dignity 
 
 AH Ben Abou Taleb, ana Fatima, the held in the highest veneration by every 
 
 daughter of Mohammed. He was born Mussulman. He died in the year of 
 
 at Ispahan, but passed the principal the Hegira 418, with the reputation of 
 
 part of his life in Egypt, where he was bein^ one of the most excellent poets of 
 
 appointed chief of the sheriffs, i. e. the his time.
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 77 
 
 THE VALE OF BOZAA^" 
 
 The intertwining boughs for thee 
 Have wove, sweet dell, a verdant vest, 
 
 And thou in turn shalt give to me 
 A verdant couch upon thy breast. 
 
 To shield me from day's fervid glare 
 Thine oaks their fostering arms extend. 
 
 As anxious o'er her infant care 
 I've seen a watchful mother bend. 
 
 A brighter cup, a sweeter draught, 
 
 I gather from that rill of thine. 
 Than maddening drunkards ever quaff'd, 
 
 Than all the treasures of the vine. 
 
 So smooth the pebbles on its shore. 
 
 That not a maid can thither stray. 
 But counts her strings of jewels o'er, 
 
 And thinks the pearls have slipp'd away. 
 
 Ahmed Ben Yousef Almenasy. 
 
 TO ADVERSITY" 
 
 Hail, chastening friend Adversity! 'Tis thine 
 The mental ore to temper and refine. 
 To cast in virtue's mould the yielding heart, 
 And honor's polish to the mind impart. 
 Without thy wakening touch, thy plastic aid, 
 I'd lain the shapeless mass that nature made; 
 But form'd, great artist, by thy magic hand, 
 I gleam a sword to conquer and command. 
 
 Abou Menbaa Carawash. 
 
 ** Ben Yousef for many years acted as *' The life of this prince was check- 
 vizir to Abou Nasser, Sultan of Diar- ered with various adventures; he was 
 beker. His political talents are much perpetually engaged in contests either 
 praised, and he is particularly cele- with the neighboring sovereigns, or the 
 brated for the address he displayed princes of his own family. After many 
 while upon an embassy to the Greek struggles he was obliged to submit to 
 Emperor at Constantinople. Yousef's his brother, Abou Camel, who imme- 
 poetry must be looked upon merely as diately ordered him to be seiied, and 
 a jeu d'esprit suggested by the beauties conveyed to a place of security, 
 of the vale of Bozaa, as he passed 
 through it.
 
 78 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 ON THE INCOMPATIBILITY OF PRIDE AND 
 TRUE GLORY =»2 
 
 Think not, Abdallah, pride and fame 
 
 Can ever travel hand in hand ; 
 Witii breast oppos'd, and adverse aim, 
 
 On the same narrow path they stand. 
 
 Thus youth and age together meet. 
 
 And Hfe's divided moments share ; 
 This can't advance till that retreat, 
 
 What's here increas'd, is lessen'd there. 
 
 And thus the falling shades of night 
 
 Still struggle with the lucid ray, 
 And e'er they stretch their gloomy flight 
 
 Must win the lengthen'd space from day. 
 
 Abou Alola. 
 
 THE DEATH OF NEDHAM ALMOLK 
 
 Thy virtues fam'd thro' every land, 
 Thy spotless life, in age and youth, 
 
 Prove thee a pearl, by nature's hand, 
 Form'd out of purity and truth. 
 
 Too long its beams of Orient light 
 Upon a thankless world were shed; 
 
 Allah has now reveng'd the slight. 
 And call'd it to its native bed. 
 
 Shehal Addaulet. 
 
 LINES TO A LOVER 
 
 When you told us our glances soft, timid and mild. 
 Could occasion such wounds in the heart, 
 
 Can ye wonder that yours, so ungovern'd and wild, 
 Some wounds to our cheeks should impart? 
 
 •• Abou Alola is esteemed as one of deter him from the pursuit of literature, 
 the most excellent of the Arabian poets. Abou Alola died at Maara in the year 
 He was born blind, but this did not 449. aged eighty-six.
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 79 
 
 The wounds on our cheeks are but transient, I own, 
 
 With a blush they appear and decay ; 
 But those on the heart, fickle youths, ye have shown 
 
 To be even more transient than they, 
 
 Waladata. 
 
 VERSES TO MY DAUGHTERS" 
 
 With jocund heart and cheerful brow 
 
 I used to hail the festal morn — 
 How must Mohammed greet it now? — 
 
 A prisoner helpless and forlorn. 
 
 While these dear maids in beauty's bloom, 
 With want opprest, with rags o'erspread. 
 
 By sordid labors at the loom 
 
 Must earn a poor, precarious bread. 
 
 Those feet that never touch'd the ground, 
 Till musk or camphor strew'd the w^ay. 
 
 Now bare and swoll'n with many a wound, 
 Must struggle thro' the miry clay. 
 
 Those radiant cheeks are veil'd in woe, 
 A shower descends from every eye, 
 
 And not a starting tear can flow. 
 That wakes not an attending sigh. 
 
 Fortune, that whilom own'd my sway. 
 
 And bow'd obsequious to my nod. 
 Now sees me destin'd to obey, 
 
 And bend beneath oppression's rod. 
 
 Ye mortals with success elate, 
 
 Who bask in hope's delusive beam, 
 
 Attentive view Mohammed's fate, 
 And own that bliss is but a dream. 
 
 Mohammed Bed Ahad. 
 
 *• Seville was one of those small sov- For thirty-three years he reigned over 
 
 ereignties into which Spain had been Seville and the neighboring districts 
 
 divided after the extinction of the house with considerable reputation, but being 
 
 of Ommiah. It did not long retain its attacked by Joseph, son to the Emperor 
 
 independence, and the only prince who of Morocco, at the head of a numerous 
 
 ever presided over it as a separate king- army of Africans, was defeated, taken 
 
 dom seems to have been Mohammed prisoner, and thrown into a dungeon, 
 
 Ben Abad, the author of these verses. where he died in the year 488.
 
 8o SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 SERENADE TO MY SLEEPING MISTRESS'* 
 
 Sure Harut's * potent spells were breath'd 
 Upon that magic sword, thine eye ; 
 
 For if it wounds us thus while sheath'd, 
 When drawn, 'tis vain its edge to fly. 
 
 How canst thou doom me, cruel fair, 
 Plung'd in the hell f of scorn to groan ? 
 
 No idol e'er this heart could share. 
 This heart has worshipp'd thee alone. 
 
 Aly Ben Ahd. 
 
 THE INCONSISTENT 3» 
 
 When I sent you my melons, you cried out with scorn, 
 They ought to be heavy and wrinkled and yellow ; 
 
 When I ofYer'd myself, whom those graces adorn, 
 You flouted, and call'd me an ugly old fellow. 
 
 THE CAPTURE OF JERUSALEM" 
 
 From our distended eyeballs flow 
 A mingled stream of tears and blood ; 
 
 No care we feel, nor wish to know, 
 But who shall pour the largest flood. 
 
 But what defense can tears afford ? 
 
 What aid supply in this dread hour? 
 W^hen kindled by the sparkling sword 
 
 War's raging flames the land devour. 
 
 »♦ This author was by birth an African; was a native of Khorasan; he died A.H. 
 
 but having passed over to Spain, he was 507. 
 
 much patronized by Mohammed, Sultan * A wicked angel who is permitted to 
 
 of Seville. After the fall of his master, tempt mankind by teaching them magic; 
 
 Ben Abd returned to Africa, and died at see the legend respecting him in the 
 
 Tangier, a.h. 488. Koran. 
 
 " Written to a lady upon her refusal t The poet here alludes to the punish- 
 
 of a present of melons, and her rejec- ments denounced in the Koran against 
 
 tion of the addresses of an admirer. those who worship a plurality of Gods: 
 
 ** The capture of Jerusalem took place " their couch shall be in hell, and over 
 
 in the 492d year of the Hegira, a.d. 1099. them shall be coverings of fire." 
 Alabiwerdy, who wrote these verses,
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 8i 
 
 No more let sleep's seductive charms 
 
 Upon your torpid souls be shed : 
 A crash like this, such dire alarms, 
 
 Might burst the slumbers of the dead. 
 
 Think where your dear companions lie — 
 Survey their fate, and hear their woes — 
 
 How some thro' trackless deserts fiy, 
 Some in the vulture's maw repose; 
 
 While some more wretched still, must bear 
 The tauntings of a Christian's tongue — 
 
 Hear this — and blush ye not to wear 
 The silken robe of peace so long? 
 
 Remember what ensanguin'd showers 
 The Syrian plains with crimson dyed. 
 
 And think how many blooming flowers 
 In Syrian forts their beauties hide. 
 
 Arabian youths ! In such a cause 
 
 Can ye the voice of glory slight? 
 Warriors of Persia ! Can ye pause, 
 
 Or fear to mingle in the fight ? 
 
 If neither piety nor shame 
 
 Your breasts can warm, your souls can move, 
 Let emulation's bursting flame 
 
 Wake you to vengeance and to love. 
 
 Almodhafer Alabiwerdy. 
 
 TO A LADY 
 
 No, Abla, no — when Selim tells 
 
 Of many an unknown grace that dwells 
 
 In Abla's face and mien, 
 When he describes the sense refin'd. 
 That lights thine eye and fills thy mind, 
 
 By thee alone unseen. 
 
 Tis not that drunk with love he sees 
 Ideal charms, which only please 
 
 Thro' passion's partial veil, 
 Vol. IVfl.— 6
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 'Tis not that flattery's glozing tongue 
 Hath basely fram'd an idle song, 
 
 But truth that breath'd the tale. 
 
 Thine eyes unaided ne'er could trace 
 Each opening charm, each varied grace, 
 
 That round thy person plays ; 
 Some must remain conceal'd from thee, 
 For Selim's watchful eye to see, 
 
 For Selim's tongue to praise. 
 
 One polish'd mirror can declare 
 That eye so bright, that face so fair, 
 
 That cheek which shames the rose; 
 But how thy mantle waves behind. 
 How float thy tresses on the wind. 
 
 Another only shows. 
 
 AN EPIGRAM" 
 
 Whoever has recourse to thee 
 
 Can hope for health no more, 
 He's launched into perdition's sea, 
 
 A sea without a shore. 
 
 Where'er admission thou canst gain, 
 
 Where'er thy phiz can pierce. 
 At once the Doctor they retain, 
 
 The mourners and the hearse. 
 
 George. 
 
 ON A LITTLE MAN WITH A VERY LARGE BEARD 
 
 How can thy chin that burden bear ? 
 
 Is it all gravity to shock ? 
 Is it to make the people stare? 
 
 And be thyself a laughing stock ? 
 
 " Written to Abou Alchair Selamu, an Egyptian physician. The author was 
 a physician of Antioch.
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 83 
 
 When I behold thy Httle feet 
 
 After thy beard obsequious run, 
 I always fancy that I meet 
 
 Some father followed by his son. 
 
 A man like thee scarce e'er appear'd — 
 
 A beard like thine — where shall we find it? 
 
 Surely thou cherishest thy beard 
 In hope to hide thyself behind it. 
 
 Isaac Ben Khali f. 
 
 LAMIAT ALAJEM^s 
 
 No kind supporting hand I meet, 
 But Fortitude shall stay my feet; 
 No borrowed splendors round me shine^ 
 But Virtue's lustre all is mine; 
 A Fame unsullied still I boast, 
 Obscur'd, conceal'd, but never lost — 
 The same bright orb that led the day 
 Pours from the West his mellow'd ray. 
 
 Zaura, farewell! No more I see 
 Within thy walls, a home for me; 
 Deserted, spurn'd, aside I'm toss'd, 
 As an old sword whose scabbard's lost: 
 Around thy walls I seek in vain 
 Some bosom that will soothe my pain — 
 No friend is near to breathe relief, 
 Or brother to partake my grief. 
 For many a melancholy day 
 Thro' desert vales I've wound my way; 
 The faithful beast, whose back I press, 
 In groans laments her lord's distress; 
 
 ** Abou Ismael was a native of Ispa- dition to afford Abou Ismael any prp- 
 
 han. He devoted himself to the service tection, for, being attacked by his 
 
 of the Seljuk Sultans of Persia, and brother Mahmoud, he was defeated, and 
 
 enjoyed the confidence of Malec Shah, driven from Mousel, and upon the fall 
 
 and his son and grandson, Mohammed of his master the vizir was seized and 
 
 and Massoud, by the last of whom he thrown into prison, and at length in the 
 
 was raised to the dignity of vizir. Mas- year 515 sentenced to be put to death, 
 soud, however, was not long in a con-
 
 84 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 In every quiv'ring of my spear 
 A sympathetic sigh I hear; 
 The camel bending with his load, 
 And struggling thro' the thorny road, 
 'Midst the fatigues that bear him down. 
 In Hassan's woes forgets his own; 
 Yet cruel friends my w^and'rings chide, 
 My sufferings slight, my toils deride. 
 
 Once wealth, I own, engross'd each thought, 
 There was a moment when I sought 
 The glitt'ring stores Ambition claims 
 To feed the wants his fancy frames; 
 But now 'tis past — the changing day 
 Has snatch'd my high-built hopes away, 
 And bade this wish my labors close — 
 Give me not riches, but repose. 
 'Tis he — that mien my friend declares, 
 That stature, like the lance he bears; 
 I see that breast which ne'er contain'd 
 A thought by fear or folly stain'd, 
 Whose powers can every change obey. 
 In business grave, in trifles gay. 
 And, form'd each varying taste to please, 
 Can mingle dignity with ease. 
 
 What, tho' with magic influence, sleep. 
 O'er every closing eyehd creep: 
 Tho' drunk with its oblivious wine 
 Our comrades on their bales recline. 
 My Selim's trance I sure can break — 
 Selim, 'tis I, 'tis I who speak. 
 Dangers on every side impend, 
 And sleep'st thou, careless of thy friend? 
 Thou sleep'st while every star on high, 
 Beholds me with a wakeful eye — 
 Thou changest, ere the changeful night 
 Hath streak'd her fleeting robe with white. 
 
 'Tis love that hurries me along — 
 I'm deaf to fear's repressive song —
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 85 
 
 The rocks of Idham I'll ascend, 
 Tho' adverse darts each path defend, 
 And hostile sabres glitter there. 
 To guard the tresses of the fair. 
 
 Come, Selim, let us pierce the grove. 
 While night befriends, to seek my love. 
 The clouds of fragrance as they rise 
 Shall mark the place where Abla lies. 
 Around her tent my jealous foes. 
 Like lions, spread their watchful rows; 
 Amidst their bands, her bow'r appears 
 Embosom'd in a wood of spears — 
 A wood still nourish'd by the dews, 
 Which smiles, and softest looks diffuse. 
 Thrice happy youths! who midst yon shades 
 Sweet converse hold with Idham's maids. 
 What bliss, to view them gild the hours, 
 And brighten wit and fancy's powers. 
 While every foible they disclose 
 New transport gives, new graces shows. 
 'Tis theirs to raise with conscious art 
 The flames of love in every heart; 
 'Tis yours to raise with festive glee 
 The flames of hospitality: 
 Smit by their glances lovers lie, 
 And helpless sink and hopeless die; 
 While slain by you the stately steed 
 To crown the feast, is doom'd to bleed, 
 To crown the feast, where copious flows 
 The sparkling juice that soothes your woes, 
 That lulls each care and heals each wound, 
 As the enliv'ning bowl goes round. 
 Amidst those vales my eager feet 
 Shall trace my Abla's dear retreat, 
 A gale of health may hover there. 
 To breathe some solace to my care. 
 I fear not love — I bless the dart 
 Sent in a glance to pierce the heart: 
 With willing breast the sword I hail 
 That wounds me thro' an half-clos'd veil:
 
 86 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 Tho' lions howling round the shade, 
 My footsteps haunt, my walks invade, 
 No fears shall drive me from the grove, 
 If Abla listen to my love. 
 
 Ah, Selim! shall the spells of ease 
 
 Thy friendship chain, thine ardor freeze! 
 
 Wilt thou enchanted thus, decline 
 
 Each gen'rous thought, each bold design? 
 
 Then far from men some cell prepare; 
 
 Or build a mansion in the air — 
 
 But yield to us, ambition's tide. 
 
 Who fearless on its waves can ride; 
 
 Enough for thee if thou receive 
 
 The scatter'd spray the billows leave. 
 
 Contempt and want the wretch await 
 
 Who slumbers in an abject state — 
 
 'Midst rushing crowds, by toil and pain 
 
 The meed of Honor we must gain ; 
 
 At Honor's call, the camel hastes 
 
 Thro' trackless wilds and dreary wastes, 
 
 Till in the glorious race she find 
 
 The fleetest coursers left behind: 
 
 By toils like these alone, he cries, 
 
 Th' adventurous youths to greatness rise; 
 
 If bloated indolence were fame, 
 
 And pompous ease our noblest aim, 
 
 The orb that regulates the day 
 
 Would ne'er from Aries' mansion stray. 
 
 I've bent at Fortune's shrine too long — 
 Too oft she heard my suppliant tongue — 
 Too oft has mock'd my idle prayers, 
 While fools and knaves engross'd her cares, 
 Awake for them, asleep to me. 
 Heedless of worth she scorn'd each plea. 
 Ah ! had her eyes, more just survey'd 
 The difif' rent claims which each display'd, 
 Those eyes from partial fondness free 
 Had slept to them, and wak'd for me.
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 87 
 
 But, 'midst my sorrows and my toils, 
 
 Hope ever sooth'd my breast with smiles; 
 
 Her hand remov'd each gathering ill, 
 
 And oped life's closing prospects still. 
 
 Yet spite of all her friendly art 
 
 The specious scene ne'er gain'd my heart; 
 
 I lov'd it not altho' the day 
 
 Met my approach, and cheer'd my way; 
 
 I loath it now the hours retreat, 
 
 And fly me with reverted feet. 
 
 My soul from every tarnish free 
 May boldly vaunt her purity, 
 But ah, how keen, however bright, 
 The sabre glitter to the sight, 
 Its splendor's lost, its polish vain, 
 Till some bold hand the steel sustain. 
 
 Why have my days been stretch'd by fate, 
 To see the vile and vicious great — 
 While I, who led the race so long. 
 Am last and meanest of the throng? 
 Ah, why has death so long delay'd 
 To wrap me in his friendly shade, 
 Left me to wander thus alone. 
 When all my heart held dear is gone! 
 
 But let me check these fretful sighs — 
 Well may the base above me rise, 
 When yonder planets as they run 
 Mount in the sky above the sun. 
 Resign'd I bow to Fate's decree. 
 Nor hope his laws will change for me; 
 Each shifting scene, each varying hour, 
 But proves the ruthless tyrants' power. 
 
 But tho' with ills unnumber'd curst, 
 We owe to faithless man the worst; 
 For man can smile with specious art, 
 And plant a dagger in the heart. 
 He only's fitted for the strife 
 Which fills the boist'rous paths of life,
 
 8S SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 Who, as he treads the crowded scenes, 
 
 Upon no kindred bosom leans. 
 
 Too long my foolish heart had deem'd 
 
 Mankind as virtuous as they seem'd; 
 
 The spell is broke, their faults are bare, 
 
 And now I see them as they are; 
 
 Truth from each tainted breast has flown, 
 
 And falsehood marks them all her own. 
 
 Incredulous I listen now 
 
 To every tongue, and every vow. 
 
 For still there yawns a gulf between 
 
 Those honeyed words, and what they mean ; 
 
 With honest pride elate, I see 
 
 The sons of falsehood shrink from me, 
 
 As from the right line's even way 
 
 The biass'd curves deflecting stray — 
 
 But what avails it to complain? 
 
 With souls like theirs reproof is vain; 
 
 If honor e'er such bosoms share 
 
 The sabre's point must fix it there. 
 
 But why exhaust life's rapid bowl. 
 
 And suck the dregs with sorrow foul, 
 
 When long ere this my youth has drain'd 
 
 Whatever zest the cup contain'd? 
 
 Why should we mount upon the wave. 
 
 And ocean's yawning horrors brave. 
 
 When we may swallow from the flask 
 
 Whate'er the wants of mortals ask? 
 
 Contentment's realms no fears invade, 
 No cares annoy, no sorrows shade, 
 There plac'd secure, in peace we rest, 
 Nor aught demand to make us blest. 
 While pleasure's gay fantastic bower. 
 The splendid pageant of an hour, 
 Like yonder meteor in the skies. 
 Flits with a breath no more to rise. 
 
 As thro' life's various walks we're led. 
 May prudence hover o'er our head! 
 May she our words, our actions guide. 
 Our faults correct, our secrets hide !
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 89 
 
 May she, where'er our footsteps stray, 
 Direct our paths, and clear the way! 
 
 Till, every scene of tumult past, 
 She bring us to repose at last, 
 Teach us to love that peaceful shore. 
 And roam thro' folly's wilds no more! 
 
 Mauid Eddin Alhassan Abou Ismael Altograi. 
 
 TO YOUTH 
 
 Yes, youth, thou'rt fled, and I am left, 
 Like yonder desolated bower, 
 
 By winter's ruthless hand bereft 
 Of every leaf and every flower. 
 
 With heaving heart and streaming eyes 
 I woo'd thee to prolong thy stay. 
 
 But vain were all my tears and sighs, 
 Thou only fled'st more fast away. 
 
 Yet tho' thou fied'st away so fast, 
 
 I can recall thee if I will ; 
 For I can talk of what is past. 
 
 And while I talk, enjoy thee still. 
 
 Ebn Alrabia. 
 
 ON LOVE^^ 
 
 I never knew a sprightly fair 
 
 That was not dear to me. 
 And freely I my heart could share, 
 
 With every one I see. 
 
 It is not this or that alone 
 
 On whom my choice would fall, 
 I do not more incline to one 
 
 Than I incline to all. 
 
 " Abou Aly flourished in Egypt about the year 530, and was equally celebrated 
 as a mathematician and as a poet.
 
 90 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 The circle's bounding line are they, 
 
 Its centre is my heart, 
 My ready love the equal ray 
 
 That flows to every part. 
 
 Abou Aly. 
 
 A REMONSTRANCE WITH A DRUNKARD *<> 
 
 As drench'd in wine, the other night, 
 
 Zeid from the banquet sallied, 
 Thus I reprov'd his drunken plight, 
 
 Thus he my prudence rallied; 
 
 " In bev'rage so impure and vile. 
 How canst thou thus delight? " — 
 
 " My cups," he answer'd with a smile, 
 " Are generous and bright." 
 
 " Beware those dang'rous draughts," I cried, 
 
 " With love the goblet flows " — 
 " And curst is he," the youth replied, 
 
 " Who hatred only knows." 
 
 " Those cups too soon with sickness fraught 
 
 Thy stomach shall deplore " — 
 " Then soon," he cried, " the noxious draught 
 
 And all its ills are o'er." 
 
 " Rash youth, thy guilty joys resign." 
 
 " I will," at length he said, 
 " I vow I'll bid adieu to wine 
 
 As soon as I am dead." 
 
 Yahia Ben Salamel. 
 
 VERSES *^ 
 
 Tho' such unbounded love you swear, 
 
 'Tis only art I see; 
 Can I believe that one so fair 
 
 Should ever dote on me? 
 
 *<• This author was a native of Syria, one who possessed any real authority 
 
 and died at Miafarakir in tlie year of since the reipn of Radlii. These lines 
 
 the Hegira 553. were addressed to a lady who pretended 
 
 *> Almonkfafi was the thirty-first Ca- a passion for him in his old age. 
 liph of the house of Abbas, and the only
 
 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 91 
 
 Say that you hate, and freely show 
 
 That age displeases youth; 
 And I may love you when I know 
 
 That you can tell the truth. 
 
 Caliph Almonklaii Laimrillah. 
 
 ON PROCRASTINATION « 
 
 Youth is a drunken noisy hour, 
 
 With every folly fraught; 
 But man, by age's chast'ning power, 
 
 Is sober'd into thought. 
 
 Then we resolve our faults to shun, 
 
 And shape our course anew ; 
 But ere the wise reform's begun 
 
 Life closes on our view. 
 
 The travellers thus who wildly roam, 
 
 Or heedlessly delay. 
 Are left, when they should reach their home, 
 
 Benighted on the way. 
 
 Hebat Allah Ibn Altalmith. 
 
 THE EARLY DEATH OF ABOU ALHASSAN ALY" 
 
 Soon hast thou run the race of life, 
 
 Nor could our tears thy speed control — 
 
 Still in the courser's gen'rous strife 
 The best will soonest reach the goal. 
 
 As Death upon his hand turns o'er 
 The diff'rent gems the world displays, 
 
 He seizes first to swell his store 
 The brightest jewel he surveys. 
 
 *» Ibn Altalmith died in the s6oth year thirty-fourth Abasside Caliph, and the 
 
 ol the Hegira, at the advanced age of last excepting three who enjoyed this 
 
 one hundred. splendid title, which was finally abol- 
 
 *' Alnassar Ledin Allah was the ished by the Tartars in the year 656.
 
 93 SELECTIONS FROM ARABIAN POETRY 
 
 Thy name, by every breath convey'd, 
 
 Stretch'd o'er the globe its boundless flight; 
 
 Alas! in eve the length'ning shade 
 But lengthens to be lost in night! 
 
 If gracious Allah bade thee close 
 Thy youthful eyes so soon on day, 
 
 'Tis that he readiest welcomes those 
 Who love him best and best obey. 
 
 Alnassar Ledin Allah. 
 
 THE INTERVIEW 
 
 A Song 
 
 Darkness clos'd around, loud the tempest drove, 
 When thro' yonder glen I saw my lover rove. 
 
 Dearest youth! 
 Soon he reach'd our cot — weary, wet, and cold. 
 But warmth, wine, and I, to cheer his spirits strove. 
 
 Dearest youth ! 
 
 How my love, cried I, durst thou hither stray 
 
 Thro' the gloom, nor fear the ghosts that haunt the grove? 
 
 Dearest youth! 
 In this heart, said he, fear no seat can find. 
 When each thought is fill'd alone with thee and love. 
 
 Dearest maid!
 
 CHOICE EXAMPLES OF ORIENTAL PRINTING AND 
 ENGRAVING. 
 
 PAGE FROM AN ARABIC STORY-BOOK. 
 
 This illustration, which is a lac-simile of a page taken from a book of popular 
 Arabic stories, gives an excellent idea of the external characteristics of the Arabic 
 language, with its numerous loops and accents.
 
 . « o-j'jII ^"J*^^ CX^*' 
 
 1^3 J V^ 
 
 • "... * 
 
 S^i.^ I'ij ^^J>l l> ^la ,^^ «(1 wlls* iASlj J'i/^ vI.*d * o^ 4»l e^ ^4! 
 
 JV^l ajjlc J,5jJ| ^_^j J-'l L^ jW vlllll j»W « A-H^l Cj'j.SZjjS 
 
 cP^Vi U ^\1'^ J^jI .jjsi -4*^1' -^5^ JLr«i J' oB3l ^:^==5> 
 '-• » - 1 .1 * ' • 
 
 JC Ualcj "4<»all 'ji-^j^^ rU * «-'t-Ji Jc U^*'j 4*«L> ^j%)sa7
 
 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 [Selected tales edited by Andretv Lang]
 
 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 THE SEVEN VOYAGES OF SINDBAD 
 
 IN the times of the CaHph Harun-al-Rashid there lived in 
 Bagdad a poor porter named Hindbad, who, on a very hot 
 day, was sent to carry a heavy load from one end of the 
 city to the other. Before he had accomplished half the dis- 
 tance he was so tired that, finding himself in a quiet street 
 where the pavement was sprinkled with rose-water, and a cool 
 breeze was blowing, he set his burden upon the ground, and sat 
 down to rest in the shade of a grand house. Very soon he de- 
 cided that he could not have chosen a pleasanter place ; a deli- 
 cious perfume of aloes-wood and pastilles came from the open 
 windows and mingled with the scent of the rose-water which 
 steamed up from the hot pavement. Within the palace he 
 heard some music, as of many instruments cunningly played, 
 and the melodious warble of nightingales and other birds, and 
 by this, and the appetizing smell of many dainty dishes of 
 which he presently became aware, he judged that feasting and 
 merry-making were going on. He wondered who lived in this 
 magnificent house which he had never seen before, the street in 
 which it stood being one which he seldom had occasion to pass. 
 To satisfy his curiosity he went up to some splendidly dressed 
 servants who stood at the door, and asked one of them the name 
 of the master of the mansion. 
 
 " What," replied he, " do you live in Bagdad, and not know 
 that here lives the noble Sindbad the Sailor, that famous trav- 
 eller who sailed over every sea upon which the sun shines ? " 
 
 The porter, who had often heard people speak of the immense 
 wealth of Sindbad, could not help feeling envious of one whose 
 lot seemed to be as happy as his own was miserable. Casting 
 his eyes up to the sky he exclaimed aloud : — 
 
 95
 
 96 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 " Consider, Mighty Creator of all things, the difference be- 
 tween Sindbad's life and mine. Every day I suffer a thousand 
 hardships and misfortunes, and have hard work to get even 
 enough bad barley bread to keep myself and my family alive, 
 while the lucky Sindbad spends money right and left and lives 
 upon the fat of the land ! What has he done that you should 
 give him this pleasant life — what have I done to deserve so 
 hard a fate ? " 
 
 So saying he stamped upon the ground like one beside him- 
 self with misery and despair. Just at this moment a servant 
 came out of the palace, and taking him by the arm said, " Come 
 with me, the noble Sindbad, my master, wishes to speak to 
 you." 
 
 Hindbad was not a little surprised at this summons, and 
 feared that his unguarded words might have drawn upon him 
 the displeasure of Sindbad, so he tried to excuse himself upon 
 the pretext that he could not leave the burden which had been 
 intrusted to him in the street. However the lackey promised 
 him that it should be taken care of, and urged him to obey the 
 call so pressingly that at last the porter was obliged to yield. 
 
 He followed the servant into a vast room, where a great com- 
 pany was seated round a table covered with all sorts of deli- 
 cacies. In the place of honor sat a tall, grave man, whose long 
 white beard gave him a venerable air. Behind his chair stood 
 a crowd of attendants eager to minister to his wants. This 
 was the famous Sindbad himself. The porter, more than ever 
 alarmed at the sight of so much magnificence, tremblingly 
 saluted the noble company. Sindbad, making a sign to him to 
 approach, caused him to be seated at his right hand, and himself 
 heaped choice morsels upon his plate, and poured out for him a 
 draught of excellent wine, and presently, when the banquet 
 drew to a close, spoke to him familiarly, asking his name and 
 occupation. 
 
 " My lord," replied the porter, " I am called Hindbad." 
 
 " I am glad to see you here," continued Sindbad. " And I 
 will answer for the rest of the company that they are equally 
 pleased, but I wish you to tell me what it was that you said just 
 now in the street." For Sindbad, passing by the open window 
 before the feast began, had heard his complaint and therefore 
 had sent for him.
 
 THE SEVEN VOYAGES OF SINDBAD 97 
 
 At this question Hindbad was covered with confusion, and 
 hanging down his head, repHed, " My lord, I confess that, over- 
 come by weariness and ill-humor, I uttered indiscreet words, 
 which I pray you to pardon me." 
 
 " Oh ! " replied Sindbad, " do not imagine that I am so un- 
 just as to blame you. On the contrary, I understand your situ- 
 ation and can pity you. Only you appear to be mistaken about 
 me, and I wish to set you right. You doubtless imagine that I 
 have acquired all the wealth and luxury that you see me enjoy 
 without difficulty or danger, but this is far indeed from being 
 the case. I have only reached this happy state after having for 
 years suffered every possible kind of toil and danger. 
 
 " Yes, my noble friends," he continued, addressing the com- 
 pany, " I assure you that my adventures have been strange 
 enough to deter even the most avaricious men from seeking 
 wealth by traversing the seas. Since you have, perhaps, heard 
 but confused accounts of my Seven Voyages, and the dangers 
 and wonders that I have met with by sea and land, I will now 
 give you a full and true account of them, which I think you will 
 be well pleased to hear." 
 
 As Sindbad w^as relating his adventures chiefly on account of 
 the porter, he ordered, before beginning his tale, that the bur- 
 den which had been left in the street should be carried by some 
 of his own servants to the place for which Hindbad had set out 
 at first, while he remained to listen to the story. 
 
 Vol. IVa.— 7
 
 FIRST VOYAGE 
 
 1HAD inherited considerable wealth from my parents, and 
 being young and foolish I at first squandered it recklessly 
 upon every kind of pleasure, but presently, finding that 
 riches speedily take to themselves wings if managed as badly 
 as I was managing mine, and remembering also that to be old 
 and poor is misery indeed, I began to bethink me of how I could 
 make the best of what still remained to me. I sold all my 
 household goods by public auction, and joined a company of 
 merchants who traded by sea, embarking with them at Balsora 
 in a ship which we had fitted out between us. 
 
 We set sail and took our course towards the East Indies by 
 the Persian Gulf, having the coast of Persia upon our left hand 
 and upon our right the shores of Arabia Felix. I was at first 
 much troubled by the uneasy motion of the vessel, but speedily 
 recovered my health, and since that hour have been no more 
 plagued by sea-sickness. 
 
 From time to time we landed at various islands, where we 
 sold or exchanged our merchandise, and one day, when the 
 wind dropped suddenly, we found ourselves becalmed close to 
 a small island like a green meadow, which only rose slightly 
 above the surface of the water. Our sails were furled, and the 
 captain gave permission to all who wished to land for a while 
 and amuse themselves. I was among the number, but when 
 after strolling about for some time we lighted a fire and sat 
 down to enjoy the repast which we had brought with us, we 
 were startled by a sudden and violent trembling of the island, 
 while at the same moment those left upon the ship set up an 
 outcry bidding us come on board for our lives, since what we 
 had taken for an island was nothing but the back of a sleeping 
 whale. Those who were nearest to the boat threw themselves 
 into it, others sprang into the sea, but before I could save myself 
 the whale plunged suddenly into the depths of the ocean, leav- 
 ing me clinging to a piece of the wood which we had brought to 
 
 98
 
 FIRST VOYAGE 
 
 99 
 
 make our fire. Meanwhile a breeze had sprung" up, and in the 
 confusion that ensued on board our vessel in hoisting the sails 
 and taking- up those who were in the boat and clinging to its 
 sides, no one missed me and I was left at the mercy of the 
 waves. All that day I floated up and down, now beaten this 
 way, now that, and when night fell I despaired for my life; 
 but, weary and spent as I was, I clung to my frail support, and 
 great was my joy when the morning light showed me that I 
 had drifted against an island. 
 
 The clilTs were high and steep, but luckily for me some tree- 
 roots protruded in places, and by their aid I climbed up at last, 
 and stretched myself upon the turf at the top, where I lay, more 
 dead than alive, till the sun was high in the heavens. By that 
 time I was very hungry, but after some searching I came upon 
 some eatable herbs, and a spring of clear water, and much re- 
 freshed I set out to explore the island. Presently I reached a 
 great plain where a grazing horse was tethered, and as I stood 
 looking at it I heard voices talking apparently underground, 
 and in a moment a man appeared who asked me how I came 
 upon the island. I told him my adventures, and heard in re- 
 turn that he was one of the grooms of Mihrage, the King of 
 the island, and that each year they came to feed their master's 
 horses in this plain. He took me to a cave where his compan- 
 ions were assembled, and when I had eaten of the food they set 
 before me, they bade me think myself fortunate to have come 
 upon them when I did, since they were going back to their mas- 
 ter on the morrow, and without their aid I could certainly nevef 
 have found my way to the inhabited part of the island. 
 
 Early the next morning we accordingly set out, and when 
 we reached the capital I was graciously received by the King, 
 to whom I related my adventures, upon which he ordered that 
 I should be well cared for and provided with such things as I 
 needed. Being a merchant I sought out men of my own pro- 
 fession, and particularly those who came from foreign coun- 
 tries, as I hoped in this way to hear news from Bagdad, and find 
 out some means of returning thither, for the capital was situ- 
 ated upon the sea-shore, and visited by vessels from all parts of 
 the world. In the meantime I heard many curious things, and 
 answered many questions concerning my own country, for I 
 talked willingly with all who came to me. Also to while away 
 the time of waiting I explored a little island named Cassel,
 
 loo ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 which belonged to King Mihrage, and which was supposed to 
 be inhabited by a spirit named Deggial. Indeed, the sailors as- 
 sured me that often at night the playing of timbals could be 
 heard upon it. However, I saw nothing strange upon my voy- 
 age, saving some fish that were full two hundred cubits long, 
 but were fortunately more in dread of us than even we were of 
 them, and fled from us if we did but strike upon a board to 
 frighten them. Other fishes there were only a cubit long which 
 had heads like owls. 
 
 One day after my return, as I went down to the quay, I saw a 
 ship which had just cast anchor, and was discharging her cargo, 
 while the merchants to whom it belonged were busily directing 
 the removal of it to their warehouses. Drawing nearer I pres- 
 ently noticed that my own name was marked upon some of the 
 packages, and after having carefully examined them, I felt sure 
 that they were indeed those which I had put on board our ship 
 at Balsora. I then recognized the captain of the vessel, but 
 as I was certain that he believed me to be dead, I went up 
 to him and asked who owned the packages that I was look- 
 ing at. 
 
 " There was on board my ship," he replied, " a merchant of 
 Bagdad named Sindbad. One day he and several of my other 
 passengers landed upon what we supposed to be an island, but 
 which was really an enormous whale floating asleep upon the 
 waves. No sooner did it feel upon its back the heat of the fire 
 which had been kindled, than it plunged into the depths of the 
 sea. Several of the people who were upon it perished in the 
 waters, and among others this unlucky Sindbad. This mer- 
 chandise is his, but I have resolved to dispose of it for the 
 benefit of his family if I should ever chance to meet with 
 them." 
 
 " Captain," said I, " I am that Sinbad whom you believe to 
 be dead, and these are my possessions ! " 
 
 When the captain heard these words he cried out in amaze- 
 ment, " Lackaday ! and what is the world coming to? In these 
 days there is not an honest man to be met with. Did I not with 
 my own eyes see Sindbad drown, and now you have the au- 
 dacity to tell me that you are he ! I should have taken you to 
 be a just man, and yet for the sake of obtaining that which does 
 not belong to you, you are ready to invent this horrible false- 
 hood."
 
 FIRST VOYAGE loi 
 
 " Have patience, and do me the favor to hear my story," 
 said I. 
 
 " Speak then," repHed the captain, " I am all attention." 
 
 So I told him of my escape and of my fortunate meeting with 
 the king's grooms, and how kindly I had been received at the 
 palace. Very soon I began to see that I had made some impres- 
 sion upon him, and after the arrival of some of the other mer- 
 chants, who showed great joy at once more seeing me alive, he 
 declared that he also recognized me. 
 
 Throwing himself upon my neck he exclaimed, " Heaven be 
 praised that you have escaped from so great a danger. As to 
 your goods, I pray you take them, and dispose of them as you 
 please." I thanked him, and praised his honesty, begging him 
 to accept several bales of merchandise in token of my gratitude, 
 but he would take nothing. Of the choicest of my goods I pre- 
 pared a present for King Mihrage, who was at first amazed, 
 having known that I had lost my all. However, when I had 
 explained to him how my bales had been miraculously restored 
 to me, he graciously accepted my gifts, and in return gave me 
 many valuable things. I then took leave of him, and exchang- 
 ing my merchandise for sandal and aloes-wood, camphor, nut- 
 megs, cloves, pepper, and ginger, I embarked upon the same 
 vessel and traded so successfully upon our homeward voyage 
 that I arrived in Balsora with about one hundred thousand 
 sequins. My family received me with as much joy as I felt 
 upon seeing them once more. I bought land and slaves, and 
 built a great house in which I resolved to live happily, and in 
 the enjoyment of all the pleasures of life to forget my past suf- 
 ferings. 
 
 Here Sindbad paused, and commanded the musicians to play 
 again, while the feasting continued until evening. When the 
 time came for the porter to depart, Sindbad gave him a purse 
 containing one hundred sequins, saying, " Take this, Hindbad, 
 and go home, but to-morrow come again and you shall hear 
 more of my adventures." 
 
 The porter retired quite overcome by so much generosity, 
 and you may imagine that he was well received at home, 
 where his wife and children thanked their lucky stars that he 
 had found such a benefactor. 
 
 The next day Hindbad, dressed in his best, returned to the
 
 I03 
 
 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 voyager's house, and was received with open arms. As soon 
 as all the guests had arrived the banquet began as before, and 
 when they had feasted long and merrily, Sindbad addressed 
 them thus : — 
 
 " My friends, I beg that you will give me your attention 
 while I relate the adventures of my second voyage, which you 
 will find even more astonishing than the first."
 
 SECOND VOYAGE 
 
 I HAD resolved, as you know, on my return from my first 
 voyage, to spend the rest of my days quietly in Bagdad, 
 but very soon I grew tired of such an idle life and longed 
 once more to find myself upon the sea. 
 
 I procured, therefore, such goods as were suitable for the 
 places I intended to visit, and embarked for the second time in 
 a good ship with other merchants whom I knew to be honorable 
 men. We went from island to island, often making excellent 
 bargains, until one day we landed at a spot which, though cov- 
 ered with fruit-trees and abounding in springs of excellent 
 water, appeared to possess neither houses nor people. While 
 my companions wandered here and there gathering flowers and 
 fruit I sat down in a shady place, and, having heartily enjoyed 
 the provisions and the wine I had brought with me, I fell asleep, 
 lulled by the murmur of a clear brook which flowed close by. 
 
 How long I slept I know not, but when I opened my eyes and 
 started to my feet I perceived with horror that I was alone and 
 that the ship was gone. I rushed to and fro like one distracted, 
 uttering cries of despair, and when from the shore I saw the 
 vessel under full sail just disappearing upon the horizon, I 
 wished bitterly enough that I had been content to stay at home 
 in safety. But since wishes could do me no good, I presently 
 took courage and looked about me for a means of escape. 
 When I had climbed a tall tree I first of all directed my anxious 
 glances towards the sea ; but, finding nothing hopeful there, I 
 turned landward, and my curiosity was excited by a huge daz- 
 zling white object, so far off that I could not make out what it 
 might be. 
 
 Descending from the tree I hastily collected what remained 
 of my provisions and set off as fast as I could go towards it. 
 As I drew near it seemed to me to be a white ball of immense 
 size and height, and when I could touch it, I found it marvel- 
 lously smooth and soft. As it was impossible to climb it — for 
 
 103
 
 104 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 it presented no foothold — I walked round about it seeking some 
 opening, but there was none. I counted, however, that it was 
 at least fifty paces round. By this time the sun was near set- 
 ting, but quite suddenly it fell dark, something like a huge black 
 cloud came swiftly over me, and I saw with amazement that it 
 was a bird of extraordinary size which was hovering near. 
 Then I remembered that I had often heard the sailors speak of a 
 wonderful bird called a roc, and it occurred to me that the white 
 object which had so puzzled me must be its egg. 
 
 Sure enough the bird settled slowly down upon it, covering it 
 with its wings to keep it warm, and I cowered close beside the 
 egg in such a position that one of the bird's feet, which was as 
 large as the trunk of a tree, was just in front of me. Taking 
 off my turban I bound myself securely to it with the linen in the 
 hope that the roc, when it took flight next morning, would 
 bear me away with it from the desolate island. And this was 
 precisely what did happen. As soon as the dawn appeared the 
 bird rose into the air carrying me up and up till I could no 
 longer see the earth, and then suddenly it descended so swiftly 
 that I almost lost consciousness. When I became aware that 
 the roc had settled and that I was once again upon solid ground, 
 I hastily unbound my turban from its foot and freed myself, 
 and that not a moment too soon ; for the bird, pouncing upon a 
 huge snake, killed it with a few blows from its powerful beak, 
 and seizing it rose up into the air once more and soon disap- 
 peared from my view. When I had looked about me I began 
 to doubt if I had gained anything by quitting the desolate island. 
 
 The valley in which I found myself was deep and narrow, 
 and surrounded by mountains which towered into the clouds, 
 and were so steep and rocky that there was no way of climbing 
 up their sides. As I wandered about, seeking anxiously for 
 some means of escaping from this trap, I observed that the 
 ground was strewed with diamonds, some of them of an aston- 
 ishing size. This sight gave me great pleasure, but my delight 
 was speedily dampened when I saw also numbers of horrible 
 snakes so long and so large that the smallest of them could have 
 swallowed an elephant with ease. Fortunately for me they 
 seemed to hide in caverns of the rocks by day, and only came 
 out by night, probably because of their enemy the roc. 
 
 All day long I wandered up and down the valley, and when 
 it grew dusk I crept into a little cave, and having blocked up
 
 SECOND VOYAGE 105 
 
 the entrance to it with a stone, I ate part of my little store of food 
 and lay down to sleep, but all through the night the serpents 
 crawled to and fro, hissing horribly, so that I could scarcely 
 close my eyes for terror. I was thankful when the morning 
 light appeared, and when I judged by the silence that the ser- 
 pents had retreated to their dens I came tremblingly out of my 
 cave and wandered up and down the valley once more, kicking 
 the diamonds contemptuously out of my path, for I felt that 
 they were indeed vain things to a man in my situation. At last, 
 overcome with weariness, I sat down upon a rock, but I had 
 hardly closed my eyes when I was startled by something which 
 fell to the ground with a thud close beside me. 
 
 It was a huge piece of fresh meat, and as I stared at it several 
 more pieces rolled over the cliffs in different places. I had al- 
 ways thought that the stories the sailors told of the famous val- 
 ley of diamonds, and of the cunning way which some merchants 
 had devised for getting at the precious stones, were mere trav- 
 ellers' tales invented to give pleasure to the hearers, but now I 
 perceived that they were surely true. These merchants came to 
 the valley at the time when the eagles, which keep their eyries in 
 the rocks, had hatched their young. The merchants then threw 
 great lumps of meat into the valley. These, falling with so 
 much force upon the diamonds, were sure to take up some of 
 the precious stones with them, when the eagles pounced upon 
 the meat and carried it off to their nests to feed their hungry 
 broods. Then the merchants, scaring away the parent birds 
 with shouts and outcries, would secure their treasures. Until 
 this moment I had looked upon the valley as my grave, for I had 
 seen no possibility of getting out of it alive, but now I took 
 courage and began to devise a means of escape. I began by 
 picking up all the largest diamonds I could find and storing 
 them carefully in the leathern wallet which had held my pro- 
 visions ; this I tied securely to my belt. I then chose the piece 
 of meat which seemed most suited to my purpose, and with the 
 aid of my turban bound it firmly to my back ; this done I laid 
 down upon my face and awaited the coming of the eagles. I 
 soon heard the flapping of their mighty wings above me, and 
 had the satisfaction of feeling one of them seize upon my piece 
 of meat, and me with it, and rise slowly towards his nest, into 
 which he presently dropped me. Luckily for me the merchants 
 were on the watch, and setting up their usual outcries they
 
 io6 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 rushed to the nest, scaring away the eagle. Their amazement 
 was great when they discovered me, and also their disappoint- 
 ment, and with one accord they fell to abusing me for having 
 robbed them of their usual profit. Addressing myself to the 
 one who seemed most aggrieved, I said: — 
 
 " I am sure, if you knew all that I have suffered, you wo«ld 
 show more kindness towards me, and as for diamonds, I have 
 enough here of the very best for you and me and all your com- 
 pany." So saying I showed them to him. The others all 
 crowded around me, wondering at my adventures and admiring 
 the device by which I had escaped from the valley, and when 
 they had led me to their camp and examined my diamonds, they 
 assured me that in all the years that they had carried on their 
 trade they had seen no stones to be compareci with them for size 
 and beauty. 
 
 I found that each merchant chose a particular nest, and took 
 his chance of what he might find in it. So I begged the one 
 who owned the nest to which I had been carried to take as much 
 as he would of my treasure, but he contented himself with one 
 stone, and that by no means the largest, assuring me that with 
 such a gem his fortune was made, and he need toil no more. I 
 stayed with the merchants several days, and then as they were 
 journeying homewards I gladly accompanied them. Our way 
 lay across high mountains infested with frightful serpents, but 
 we had the good luck to escape them and came at last to the sea- 
 shore. Thence we sailed to the isle of Roha, where the cam- 
 phor-trees grow to such a size that a hundred men could shelter 
 under one of them with ease. The sap flows from an incision 
 made high up in the tree into a vessel hung there to receive it, 
 and soon hardens into the substance called camphor, but the 
 tree itself withers up and dies when it has been so treated. 
 
 In this same island we saw the rhinoceros, an animal which is 
 smaller than the elephant and larger than the buffalo. It has 
 one horn about a cubit long which is solid, but has a furrow 
 from the base to the tip. Upon it is traced in white lines the 
 figure of a man. The rhinoceros fights with the elephant, and 
 transfixing him with his horn carries him off upon his head, but 
 becoming blinded with the blood of his enemy, he falls helpless 
 to the ground, and then comes the roc, and clutches them both 
 up in his talons and takes them to feed his young. This doubt- 
 less astonishes you, but if you do not believe my tale go to Roha
 
 SECOND VOYAGE 107 
 
 and see for yourself. For fear of wearying you I pass over in 
 silence many other wonderful things which we saw in this 
 island. Before we left I exchanged one of my diamonds for 
 much goodly merchandise by which I profited greatly on our 
 homeward way. At last we reached Balsora, whence I has- 
 tened to Bagdad, where my first action was to bestow large 
 sums of money upon the poor, after which I settled down to 
 enjoy tranquilly the riches I had gained with so much toil 
 and pain. 
 
 Having thus related the adventures of his second voyage, 
 Sindbad again bestowed a hundred sequins upon Hindbad, in- 
 viting him to come again on the following day and hear how he 
 fared upon his third voyage. The other guests also departed to 
 their homes, but all returned at the same hour next day, includ- 
 ing the porter, whose former life of hard work and poverty had 
 already begun to seem to him like a bad dream. Again after the 
 feast was over did Sindbad claim the attention of his guests 
 and began the account of his third voyage.
 
 THIRD VOYAGE 
 
 AFTER a very short time the pleasant easy life I led made 
 me quite forget the perils of my two voyages. More- 
 over, as I was still in the prime of life, it pleased me 
 better to be up and doing. So once more providing myself with 
 the rarest and choicest merchandise of Bagdad, I conveyed it to 
 Balsora, and set sail with other merchants of my acquaintance 
 for distant lands. We had touched at many ports and made 
 much profit, when one day upon the open sea we were caught by 
 a terrible wind which blew us completely out of our reckoning, 
 and lasting for several days finally drove us into harbor on a 
 strange island. 
 
 " I would rather have come to anchor anywhere than here," 
 quoth our captain. " This island and all adjoining it are in- 
 habited by hairy savages, who are certain to attack us, and 
 whatever these dwarfs may do we dare not resist, since they 
 swarm like locusts, and if one of them is killed the rest w'ill fall 
 upon us, and speedily make an end of us." 
 
 These words caused great consternation among all the ship's 
 company, and only too soon we were to find out that the captain 
 spoke truly. There appeared a vast multitude of hideous sav- 
 ages, not more than two feet high and covered with reddish fur. 
 Throwing themselves into the waves they surrounded our ves- 
 sel. Chattering meanwhile in a language we could not under- 
 stand, and clutching at ropes and gangways, they swarmed up 
 the ship's side with such speed and agility that they almost 
 seemed to fly. 
 
 You may imagine the rage and terror that seized us as we 
 watched them, neither daring to hinder them nor able to speak 
 a word to deter them from their purpose, whatever it might be. 
 Of this we were not left long in doubt. Hoisting the sails, and 
 cutting the cable of the anchor, they sailed our vessel to an 
 island which lay a little further off, where they drove us ashore ; 
 then taking possession of her, they made off to the place from 
 
 io8
 
 THIRD VOYAGE 
 
 109 
 
 which they had come, leaving us helpless upon a shore avoided 
 with horror by all mariners for a reason which you will soon 
 learn. 
 
 Turning away from the sea we wandered miserably inland, 
 finding as we went various herbs and fruits which we ate, feel- 
 ing that we might as well live as long as possible though we had 
 no hope of escape. Presently we saw in the far distance what 
 seemed to us to be a splendid palace, towards which we turned 
 our weary steps, but when we reached it we saw that it was a 
 castle, lofty, and strongly built. Pushing back the heavy ebony 
 doors we entered the courtyard, but upon the threshold of the 
 great hall beyond it we paused, frozen with horror, at the sight 
 which greeted us. On one side lay a huge pile of bones — hu- 
 man bones ; and on the other numberless spits for roasting ! 
 Overcome with despair we sank trembling to the ground, and 
 lay there without speech or motion. The sun was setting when 
 a loud noise aroused us, the door of the hall was violently burst 
 open and a horrible giant entered. He was as tall as a palm 
 tree, and perfectly black, and had one eye, which flamed like a 
 burning coal in the middle of his forehead. His teeth were long 
 and sharp and grinned horribly, while his lower lip hung down 
 upon his chest, and he had ears like elephant's ears, which cov- 
 ered his shoulders, and nails like the claws of some fierce bird. 
 
 At this terrible sight our senses left us and we lay like dead 
 men. When at last we came to ourselves the giant sat examin- 
 ing us attentively with his fearful eye. Presently when he had 
 looked at us enough he came towards us, and stretching out 
 his hand took me by the back of the neck, turning me this way 
 and that, but feeling that I was mere skin and bone he set me 
 down again and went on to the next, whom he treated in the 
 same fashion ; at last he came to the captain, and finding him 
 the fattest of us all, he took him up in one hand and stuck him 
 upon a spit and proceeded to kindle a huge fire at which he pres- 
 ently roasted him. After the giant had supped he lay down to 
 sleep, snoring like the loudest thunder, while we lay shivering 
 with horror the whole night through, and when day broke he 
 awoke and went out, leaving us in the castle. 
 
 When we believed him to be really gone we started up be- 
 moaning our horrible fate, until the hall echoed with our de- 
 spairing cries. Though we were many and our enemy was 
 alone it did not occur to us to kill him, and indeed we should
 
 no ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 have found that a hard task, even if we had thought of it, and 
 no plan could we devise to deliver ourselves. So at last, sub- 
 mitting to our sad fate, we spent the day in wandering up and 
 down the island eating such fruits as we could find, and when 
 night came we returned to the castle, having sought in vain for 
 any other place of shelter. At sunset the giant returned, 
 supped upon one of our unhappy comrades, slept and snored till 
 dawn, and then left us as before. Our condition seemed to us 
 so frightful that several of my companions thought it would be 
 better to leap from the cliffs and perish in the w'aves at once, 
 rather than await so miserable an end ; but I had a plan of es- 
 cape which I now unfolded to them, and which they at once 
 agreed to attempt. 
 
 " Listen, my brothers," I added. " You know that plenty of 
 driftwood lies along the shore. Let us make several rafts, and 
 carry them to a suitable place. If our plot succeeds, we can 
 wait patiently for the chance of some passing ship which would 
 rescue us from this fatal island. If it fails, we must quickly 
 take to our rafts ; frail as they are, we have more chance of sav- 
 ing our lives with them than we have if we remain here." 
 
 All agreed with me, and we spent the day in building rafts, 
 each capable of carrying three persons. At nightfall we re- 
 turned to the castle, and very soon in came the giant, and one 
 more of our number was sacrificed. But the time of our ven- 
 geance was at hand ! As soon as he had finished his horrible re- 
 past he lay down to sleep as before, and when we heard him 
 begin to snore I, and nine of the boldest of my comrades, rose 
 softly, and took each a spit, which we made red-hot in the fire, 
 and then at a given signal we plunged it with one accord into 
 the giant's eye, completely blinding him. Uttering a terrible 
 cry, he sprang to his feet clutching in all directions to try to 
 seize one of us, but we had all fled different ways as soon as the 
 deed was done, and thrown ourselves flat upon the ground in 
 corners where he was not likely to touch us with his feet. 
 
 After a vain search he fumbled about till he found the door, 
 and fled out of it howling frightfully. As for us, when he was 
 gone we made haste to leave the fatal castle, and, stationing our- 
 selves beside our rafts, we waited to see what would happen. 
 Our idea was that if, when the sun rose, we saw nothing of the 
 giant, and no longer heard his howls, which still came faintly 
 through the darkness, growing more and more distant, we
 
 THIRD VOYAGE HI 
 
 should conclude that he was dead, and that we might safely stay 
 upon the island and need not risk our lives upon the frail rafts. 
 But alas ! morning light showed us our enemy approaching us, 
 supported on either hand by two giants nearly as large and fear- 
 ful as himself, while a crowd of others followed close upon their 
 heels. Hesitating no longer we clambered upon our rafts and 
 rowed with all our might out to sea. The giants, seeing their 
 prey escaping them, seized up huge pieces of rock, and wading 
 into the water hurled them after us with such good aim that all 
 the rafts except the one 1 was upon were swamped, and their 
 luckless crews drowned, without our being able to do anything 
 to help them. Indeed I and my two companions had all we 
 could do to keep our own raft beyond the reach of the giants, but 
 by dint of hard rowing we at last gained the open sea. Here we 
 were at the mercy of the winds and waves, which tossed us to 
 and fro all that day and night, but the next morning we found 
 ourselves near an island, upon which we gladly landed. 
 
 There we found delicious fruits, and having satisfied our 
 hunger we presently lay down to rest upon the shore. Sud- 
 denly we were aroused by a loud rustling noise, and starting up, 
 saw that it was caused by an immense snake which was gliding 
 towards us over the sand. So swiftly it came that it had seized 
 one of my comrades before he had time to fly, and in spite of his 
 cries and struggles speedily crushed the life out of him in its 
 mighty coils and proceeded to swallow him. By this time my 
 other companion and I were running for our lives to some place 
 where we might hope to be safe from this new horror, and see- 
 ing a tall tree we climbed up into it, having first provided our- 
 selves with a store of fruit ofif the surrounding bushes. When 
 night came I fell asleep, but only to be awakened once more by 
 the terrible snake, which after hissing horribly round the tree 
 at last reared itself up against it, and finding my sleeping com- 
 rade who was perched just below me, it swallowed him also, and 
 crawled away leaving me half dead with terror. 
 
 When the sun rose I crept down from the tree with hardly a 
 hope of escaping the dreadful fate which had overtaken my 
 comrades ; but life is sweet, and I determined to do all I could 
 to save myself. All day long I toiled with frantic haste and 
 collected quantities of dry brushwood, reeds and thorns, which 
 I bound with fagots, and making a circle of them under my 
 tree I piled them firmly one upon another until I had a kind of
 
 112 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 tent in which I crouched like a mouse in a hole when she sees 
 the cat coming-. You may imagine what a fearful night I 
 passed, for the snake returned eager to devour me, and glided 
 round and round my frail shelter seeking an entrance. Every 
 moment I feared that it would succeed in pushing aside some 
 of the fagots, but happily for me they held together, and when 
 it grew light my enemy retired, baffled and hungry, to his 
 den. As for me I was more dead than alive ! Shaking with 
 fright and half suffocated by the poisonous breath of the mon- 
 ster, I came out of my tent and crawled down to the sea, feeling 
 that it would be better to plunge from the clififs and end my life 
 at once than pass such another night of horror. But to my joy 
 and relief I saw a ship sailing by, and by shouting wildly and 
 waving my turban I managed to attract the attention of her 
 crew. 
 
 A boat was sent to rescue me, and very soon I found myself 
 on board surrounded by a wondering crowd of sailors and mer- 
 chants eager to know by what chance I found myself in that 
 desolate island. After I had told my story they regaled me 
 with the choicest food the ship afforded, and the captain, seeing 
 that I was in rags, generously bestowed upon me one of his own 
 coats. After sailing about for some time and touching at 
 many ports we came at last to the island of Salahat, where san- 
 dal-wood grows in great abundance. Here we anchored, and 
 as I stood watching the merchants disembarking their goods 
 and preparing to sell or exchange them, the captain came up to 
 me and said : — 
 
 " I have here, brother, some merchandise belonging to a pas- 
 senger of mine who is dead. Will you do me the favor to trade 
 with it, and when I meet with his heirs I shall be able to give 
 them the money, though it will be only just that you shall have 
 a portion for your trouble." 
 
 I consented gladly, for I did not like standing by idle. 
 Whereupon he pointed the bales out to me, and sent for the 
 person whose duty it was to keep a list of the goods that were 
 upon the ship. When this man came he asked in what name 
 the merchandise was to be registered. 
 
 " In the name of Sindbad the Sailor," replied the captain. 
 
 At this I was greatly surprised, but looking carefully at him 
 I recognized him to be the captain of the ship upon which I had 
 made my second voyage, though he had altered much since
 
 THIRD VOYAGE 
 
 "3 
 
 tliat time. As for him, believing me to be dead it was no won- 
 der that he had not recognized me. 
 
 " So, captain," said I, " the merchant who owned those bales 
 was called Sindbad?" 
 
 " Yes," he replied. '* He was so named. He belonged to 
 Bagdad, and joined my ship at Balsora, but by mischance he 
 was left behind upon a desert island where we had landed to fill 
 up our water-casks, and it was not until four hours later that 
 he was missed. By that time the wind had freshened, and it 
 was impossible to put back for him." 
 
 '* You suppose him to have perished then? " said I. 
 
 '"Alas ! yes," he answered. 
 
 " Why, captain ! " I cried, " look well at me. I am that Sind- 
 bad who fell asleep upon the island and awoke to find himself 
 abandoned ! " 
 
 The captain stared at me in amazement, but was presently 
 convinced that I was indeed speaking the truth, and rejoiced 
 greatly at my escape. 
 
 " I am glad to have that piece of carelessness off my con- 
 science at any rate," said he. " Now take your goods, and the 
 profit I have made for you upon them, and may you prosper in 
 future." 
 
 I took them gratefully, and as we went from one island to an- 
 other I laid in stores of cloves, cinnamon, and other spices. In 
 one place I saw a tortoise which was twenty cubits long and as 
 many broad, also a fish that was like a cow and had skin so thick 
 that it was used to make shields. Another I saw that was like 
 a camel in shape and color. So by degrees we came back to 
 Balsora, and I returned to Bagdad with so much money that I 
 could not myself count it, besides treasures without end. I 
 gave largely to the poor, and bought much land to add to what 
 I already possessed, and thus ended my third voyage. 
 
 When Sindbad had finished his story he gave another hun- 
 dred sequins to Hindbad, who then departed with the other 
 guests, but next day when they had all reassembled, and the 
 banquet was ended, their host continued his adventures. 
 
 Vol. lYa.—S
 
 FOURTH VOYAGE 
 
 RICH and happy as I was after my third voyage, I could 
 not make up my mind to stay at home ahogether. My 
 love of trading, and the pleasure I took in anything that 
 was new and strange, made me set my affairs in order, and 
 begin my journey through some of the Persian provinces, hav- 
 ing first sent off stores of goods to await my coming in the dif- 
 ferent places I intended to visit. I took ship at a distant sea- 
 port, and for some time all went well, but at last, being caught 
 in a violent hurricane, our vessel became a total wreck in spite 
 of all our worthy captain could do to save her, and many of our 
 company perished in the waves. I, with a few others, had the 
 good fortune to be washed ashore clinging to pieces of the 
 wreck, for the storm had driven us near an island, and scram- 
 bling up beyond the reach of the waves we threw ourselves 
 down quite exhausted, to wait for morning. 
 
 At daylight we wandered inland, and soon saw some huts, to 
 which we directed our steps. As we drew near their black in- 
 habitants swarmed out in great numbers and surrounded us, 
 and we were led to their houses, and as it were divided among 
 our captors. I with five others was taken into a hut, where we 
 were made to sit upon the ground, and certain herbs were given 
 to us, which the blacks made signs to us to eat. Observing that 
 they themselves did not touch them, I was careful only to pretend 
 to taste my portion ; but my companions, being very hungry, 
 rashly ate up all that was set before them, and very soon I had 
 the horror of seeing them become perfectly mad. Though they 
 chattered incessantly I could not understand a word they said, 
 nor did they heed when I spoke to them. The savages now 
 produced large bowls full of rice prepared with cocoanut oil, of 
 which my crazy comrades ate eagerly, but I only tasted a few 
 grains, understanding clearly that the object of our captors was 
 to fatten us speedily for their own eating, and this was exactly 
 what happened. My unlucky companions having lost their 
 
 114
 
 FOURTH VOYAGE 115 
 
 reason, felt neither anxiety nor fear, and ate greedily all that 
 was offered them. So they were soon fat and there was an end 
 of them, but I grew leaner day by day, for I ate but little, and 
 even that little did me no good by reason of my fear of what lay 
 before me. However, as I was so far from being a tempting 
 morsel, I was allowed to wander about freely, and one day, 
 when all the blacks had gone off upon some expedition leaving 
 only an old man to guard me, I managed to escape from him 
 and plunged into the forest, running faster the more he cried to 
 me to come back, until I had completely distanced him. 
 
 For seven days I hurried on, resting only when the darkness 
 stopped me, and living chiefly upon cocoanuts, which afforded 
 me both meat and drink, and on the eighth day I reached the 
 sea-shore and saw a party of white men gathering pepper, which 
 grew abundantly all about. Reassured by the nature of their 
 occupation, I advanced towards them and they greeted me in 
 Arabic, asking who I was and whence 1 came. My delight was 
 great on hearing this familiar speech, and I willingly satisfied 
 their curiosity, telling them how I had been shipwrecked, and 
 captured by the blacks. " But these savages devour men ! " 
 said they. " How did you escape ? " I repeated to them what 
 I have just told you, at which they were mightily astonished. 
 I stayed with them until they had collected as much pepper as 
 they wished, and then they took me back to their own country 
 and presented me to their King, by wdiom I was hospitably re- 
 ceived. To him also I had to relate my adventures, which sur- 
 prised him much, and when I had finished he ordered that I 
 should be supplied with food and raiment and treated with 
 consideration. 
 
 The island on which I found myself was full of people, and 
 abounded in all sorts of desirable things, and a great deal of 
 traffic went on in the capital, where I soon began to feel at home 
 and contented. Moreover, the King treated me with special 
 favor, and in consequence of this everyone, whether at the court 
 or in the town, sought to make life pleasant to me. One thing 
 I remarked which I thought very strange; this was that, from 
 the greatest to the least, all men rode their horses without bridle 
 or stirrups. I one day presumed to ask his Majesty why he did 
 not use them, to which he replied, " You speak to me of things 
 of which I have never before heard ! " This gave me an idea. 
 I found a clever workman, and made him cut out under my
 
 ii6 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 direction the foundation of a saddle, which T wadded and cov- 
 ered with choice leather, adorning it with rich gold embroidery. 
 I then got a locksmith to make me a bit and a pair of spurs after 
 a pattern that I drew for him, and when all these things were 
 completed I presented them to the King and showed him how to 
 use them. When I had saddled one of his horses he mounted 
 it and rode about quite delighted with the novelty, and to show 
 his gratitude he rewarded me with large gifts. After this I 
 had to make saddles for all the principal officers of the King's 
 household, and as they all gave me rich presents I soon became 
 very wealthy and quite an important person in the city. 
 
 One day the King sent for me and said, " Sindbad, I am go- 
 ing to ask a favor of you. Both I and my subjects esteem you, 
 and wish you to end your days amongst us. Therefore I de- 
 sire that you will marry a rich and beautiful lady whom I 
 will find for you, and think no more of your own country." 
 
 As the King's will was law I accepted the charming bride he 
 presented to me, and lived happily with her. Nevertheless I 
 had every intention of escaping at the first opportunity, and 
 going back to Bagdad. Things were thus going prosperously 
 with me when it happened that the wife of one of my neighbors, 
 with whom I had struck up quite a friendship, fell ill, and pres- 
 ently died. I went to his house to offer my consolations, and 
 found him in the depths of woe. 
 
 " Heaven preserve you," said I, " and send you a long life ! " 
 
 " Alas ! " he replied, " what is the good of saying that when 
 I have but an hour left to live ! " 
 
 " Come, come ! " said I, " surely it is not so bad as all that. 
 I trust that you may be spared to me for many years." 
 
 " I hope," answered he, " that your life may be long, but as 
 for me, all is finished. I have set my house in order, and to-day 
 I shall be buried with my wife. This has been the law upon 
 our island from the earliest ages — the living husband goes to 
 the grave with his dead wife, the living wife with her dead hus- 
 band. So did our fathers, and so must we do. The law 
 changes not, and all must submit to it ! " 
 
 As he spoke the friends and relations of the unhappy pair be- 
 gan to assemble. The body, decked in rich robes and sparkling 
 with jewels, was laid upon an open bier, and the procession 
 started, taking its way to a high mountain at some distance
 
 FOURTH VOYAGE 117 
 
 from the city, the wretched husband, clothed from head to foot 
 in a black mantle, following mournfully. 
 
 When the place of interment was reached the corpse was low- 
 ered, just as it was, into a deep pit. Then the husband, bidding 
 farewell to all his friends, stretched himself upon another bier, 
 upon which were laid seven little loaves of bread and a pitcher 
 of water, and he also was let down-down-down to the depths of 
 the horrible cavern, and then a stone was laid over the opening, 
 and the melanchory company wended its way back to the city. 
 
 You may imagine that I was no unmoved spectator of these 
 proceedings ; to all the others it was a thing to which they had 
 been accustomed from their youth up ; but I was so horrified 
 that I could not help telling the King how it struck me. 
 
 " Sire," I said, " I am more astonished than I can express to 
 you at the strange custom which exists in your dominions of 
 burying the living with the dead. In all my travels I have 
 never before met with so cruel and horrible a law." 
 
 " What would you have, Sindbad? " he replied. " It is the 
 law for everybody. I myself should be buried with the Queen 
 if she were the first to die." 
 
 " But, your Majesty," said I, " dare I ask if this law applies 
 to foreigners also ? " 
 
 " Why, yes," replied the king smiling, in what I could but 
 consider a very heartless manner : " they are no exception to 
 the rule if they have married in the country." 
 
 When I heard this I went home much cast down, and from 
 that time forward my mind was never easy. If only my wife's 
 little finger ached I fancied she was going to die, and sure 
 enough before very long she fell really ill and in a few days 
 breathed her last. My dismay was great, for it seemed to me 
 that to be buried alive was even a worse fate than to be devoured 
 by cannibals, nevertheless there was no escape. The body of 
 my wife, arrayed in her richest robes and decked with all her 
 jewels, was laid upon the bier. I followed it, and after me 
 cam_e a great procession, headed by the king and all his nobles, 
 and in this order we reached the fatal mountain, which was one 
 of a lofty chain bordering the sea. 
 
 Here I made one more frantic effort to excite the pity of the 
 King and thdse who stood by, hoping to save myself even at this 
 last moment, but it was of no avail. No one spoke to me, they 
 even appeared to hasten over their dreadful task, and I speedily
 
 ii8 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 found myself descending into the gloomy pit, with my seven 
 loaves and pitcher of water beside me. Almost before 1 
 reached the bottom the stone was rolled into its place above my 
 head, and I was left to my fate. A feeble ray of light shone 
 into the cavern through some chink, and when I had the cour- 
 age to look about me I could see that I was in a vast vault, be- 
 strewn with bones and bodies of the dead. I even fancied that 
 I heard the expiring sighs of those who, like myself, had come 
 into this dismal place alive. All in vain did I shriek aloud with 
 rage and despair, reproaching myself for the love of gain and 
 adventure which had brought me to such a pass, but at length, 
 growing calmer, I took up my bread and water, and wrapping 
 my face in my mantle I groped my way towards the end of the 
 cavern, where the air was fresher. 
 
 Here I lived in darkness and misery until my provisions were 
 exhausted, but just as I was nearly dead from starvation the 
 rock was rolled away overhead and I saw that a bier was being 
 lowered into the cavern, and that the corpse upon it was a man. 
 In a moment my mind was made up, the woman who followed 
 had nothing to expect but a lingering death ; I should be doing 
 her a service if I shortened her misery. Therefore when she 
 descended, already insensible from terror, I was ready armed 
 with a huge bone, one blow from which left her dead, and I se- 
 cured the bread and water which gave me a hope of life. Sev- 
 eral times did I have recourse to this desperate expedient, and 
 I know not how long I had been a prisoner when one day I fan- 
 cied that I heard something near me, which breathed loudly. 
 Turning to the place from which the sound came I dimly saw a 
 shadowy form which fled at my movement, squeezing itself 
 through a cranny in the wall. I pursued it as fast as I could, 
 and found myself in a narrow crack among the rocks, along 
 which I was just able to force my way. I followed it for what 
 seemed to me many miles, and at last saw before me a glimmer 
 of light which grew clearer every moment until I emerged upon 
 the sea-shore with a joy which I cannot describe. When I was 
 sure that I was not dreaming, I realized that it was doubtless 
 some little animal which had found its way into the cavern from 
 the sea, and when disturbed had fled, showing me a means of 
 escape which I could never have discovered for myself. I 
 hastily surveyed my surroundings, and saw that I was safe 
 from all pursuit from the town.
 
 FOURTH VOYAGE 
 
 119 
 
 The mountains sloped sheer clown to the sea, and there was 
 no road across them. Being assured of this I returned to the 
 cavern, and amassed a rich treasure of diamonds, rubies, emer- 
 alds and jewels of all kinds, which strewed the ground. These 
 I made up into bales, and stored them into a safe place upon the 
 beach, and then waited hopefully for the passing of a ship. I 
 had looked out for two days, however, before a single sail ap- 
 peared, so it was with much delight that I at last saw a vessel 
 not very far from the shore, and by waving my arms and utter- 
 ing loud cries succeeded in attracting the attention of her crew. 
 A boat was sent off to me, and in answer to the questions of the 
 sailors as to how I came to be in such a plight, I replied that I 
 had been shipwrecked two days before, but had managed to 
 scramble ashore with the bales which I pointed out to them. 
 Luckily for me they believed my story, and without even look- 
 ing at the place where they found me, took up my bundles, and 
 rowed me back to the ship. Once on board, I soon saw that 
 the captain was too much occupied with the difficulties of navi- 
 gation to pay much heed to me, though he generously made me 
 welcome, and would not even accept the jewels with which I 
 offered to pay my passage. Our voyage was prosperous, and 
 after visiting many lands, and collecting in each place great 
 store of goodly merchandise, I found myself at last in Bagdad 
 once more with unheard-of riches of every description. Again 
 I gave large sums of money to the poor, and enriched all the 
 mosques in the city, after which I gave myself up to my friends 
 and relations, with whom I passed my time in feasting and mer- 
 riment. 
 
 Here Sindbad paused, and all his hearers declared that the 
 adventures of his fourth voyage had pleased them better than 
 anything they had heard before. They then took their leave, 
 followed by Hindbad, who had once more received a hundred 
 sequins, and with the rest had been bidden to return next day 
 for the story of the fifth voyage. 
 
 When the time came all were in their places, and when they 
 had eaten and drunk of all that was set before them Sindbad 
 began his tale.
 
 FIFTH VOYAGE 
 
 NOT even all that I had gone through could make me con- 
 tented with a quiet life. I soon wearied of its pleas- 
 ures, and longed for change and adventure. There- 
 fore I set out once more, but this time in a ship of my own, 
 which I built and fitted out at the nearest seaport. I wished 
 to be able to call at whatever port I chose, taking my own 
 time ; but as I did not intend carrying enough goods for a 
 full cargo, I invited several merchants of dififerent nations to 
 join me. We set sail with the first favorable wind, and after a 
 long voyage upon the open seas we landed upon an unknown 
 island which proved to be uninhabited. We determined, how- 
 ever, to explore it, but had not gone far when we found a roc's 
 egg, as large as the one I had seen before and evidently very 
 nearly hatched, for the beak of the young bird had already 
 pierced the shell. In spite of all I could say to deter them, the 
 merchants who were with me fell upon it with their hatchets, 
 breaking the shell, and killing the young roc. Then lighting a 
 fire upon the ground they hacked morsels from the bird, and 
 proceeded to roast them while I stood by aghast. 
 
 Scarcely had they finished their ill-omened repast, when the 
 air above us was darkened by two mighty shadows. The cap- 
 tain of my ship, knowing by experience what this meant, cried 
 out to us that the parent birds were coming, and urged us to get 
 on board with all speed. This we did, and the sails were 
 hoisted, but before we had made any way the rocs reached their 
 despoiled nest and hovered about it, uttering frightful cries 
 when they discovered the mangled remains of their young one. 
 For a moment we lost sight of them, and were flattering our- 
 selves that we had escaped, when they reappeared and soared 
 into the air directly over our vessel, and we saw that each held 
 in its claws an immense rock ready to crush us. There was a 
 moment of breathless suspense, then one bird loosed its hold 
 and the huge block of stone hurtled through the air, but thanks 
 
 120
 
 FIFTH VOYAGE 121 
 
 to the presence of mind of the helmsman, who turned our ship 
 violently in another direction, it fell into the sea close beside us, 
 cleaving it asunder till we could nearly see the bottom. We 
 had hardly time to draw a breath of relief before the other rock 
 fell with a mighty crash right in the midst of our luckless ves- 
 sel, smashing it into a thousand fragments, and crushing, or 
 hurling into the sea, passengers and crew. I myself went down 
 with the rest, but had the good fortune to rise unhurt, and by 
 holding on to a piece of driftwood with one hand and swimming 
 with the other I kept myself afloat and was presently washed up 
 by the tide on to an island. Its shores were steep and rocky, 
 but I scrambled up safely and threw myself down to rest upon 
 the green turf. 
 
 When I had somewhat recovered I began to examine the spot 
 in which I found myself, and truly it seemed to me that I had 
 reached a garden of delights. There were trees everywhere, 
 and they were laden with flowers and fruit, while a crystal 
 stream wandered in and out under their shadow. When night 
 came I slept sweetly in a cosey nook, though the remembrance 
 that I was alone in a strange land made me sometimes start up 
 and look around me in alarm, and then I wished heartily that I 
 had stayed at home at ease. However, the morning sunlight re- 
 stored my courage, and I once more wandered among the trees, 
 but always with some anxiety as to what I might see next. I 
 had penetrated some distance into the island when I saw an old 
 man bent and feeble sitting upon the river bank, and at first I 
 took him to be some shipwrecked mariner like myself. Going 
 up to him I greeted him in a friendly way, but he only nodded 
 his head at me in reply. I then asked what he did there, and he 
 made signs to me that he wished to get across the river to gather 
 some fruit, and seemed to beg me to carry him on my back. 
 Pitying his age and feebleness, I took him up, and wading 
 across the stream I bent down that he might more easily reach 
 the bank, and bade him get down. But instead of allowing 
 himself to be set upon his feet (even now it makes me laugh 
 to think of it !), this creature who had seemed to me so decrepit 
 leaped nimbly upon my shoulders, and hooking his legs round 
 my neck gripped me so tightly that I was well-nigh choked, 
 and so overcome with terror that I fell insensible to the ground. 
 When I recovered my enemy was still in his place, though he 
 had released his hold enough to allow me breathing space, and
 
 122 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 seeing mc revive he prodded me adroitly first with one foot and 
 then with the other, until I was forced to get up and stagger 
 about with him under the trees while he gathered and ate the 
 choicest fruits. This went on all day, and even at night, when 
 I threw myself down half dead with weariness, the terrible old 
 man held on tight to my neck, nor did he fail to greet the first 
 glimmer of morning light by drumming upon me with his heels, 
 until I perforce awoke and resumed my dreary march with rage 
 and bitterness in my heart. 
 
 It happened one day that I passed a tree under which lay 
 several dry gourds, and catching one up I amused myself with 
 scooping out its contents and pressing into it the juice of sev- 
 eral bunches of grapes which hung from every bush. When it 
 was full I left it propped in the fork of a tree, and a few days 
 later, carrying the hateful old man that way, I snatched at my 
 gourd as I passed it and had the satisfaction of a draught of 
 excellent wine so good and refreshing that I even forgot my de- 
 testable burden, and began to sing and caper. 
 
 The old monster was not slow to perceive the eflfect which my 
 draught had produced and that I carried him more lightly than 
 usual, so he stretched out his skinny hand and seizing the gourd 
 first tasted its contents cautiously, then drained them to the very 
 last drop. The wine was strong and the gourd capacious, so he 
 also began to sing after a fashion, and soon I had the delight 
 of feeling the iron grip of his goblin legs unclasp, and with one 
 vigorous effort I threw him to the ground, from which he never 
 moved again. I was so rejoiced to have at last got rid of this 
 uncanny old man that I ran leaping and bounding down to the 
 sea-shore, where, by the greatest good luck, I met with some 
 mariners who had anchored oft* the island to enjoy the delicious 
 fruits, and to renew their supply of water. 
 
 They heard the story of my escape with amazement, saying, 
 " You fell into the hands of the Old Man of the Sea, and it is a 
 mercy that he did not strangle you as he has everyone else upon 
 whose shoulders he has managed to perch himself. This island 
 is well-known as the scene of his evil deeds, and no merchant or 
 sailor who lands upon it cares to stray far away from his com- 
 rades." After we had talked for awhile they took me back 
 with them on board their ship, where the captain received me 
 kindly, and we soon set sail, and after several days reached a 
 large and prosperous-looking town where all the houses were
 
 FIFTH VOYAGE 
 
 123 
 
 built of stone. Here we anchored, and one of the merchants, 
 who had been very friendly to me on the way, took me ashore 
 with him and showed me a lodging set apart for strange mer- 
 chants. He then provided me with a large sack, and pointed 
 out to me a party of others equipped in Hke manner. 
 
 " Go with them," said he, " and do as they do, but beware of 
 losing sight of them, for if you strayed your life would be in 
 danger." 
 
 With that he supplied me with provisions, and bade me fare- 
 well, and I set out with my new companions. I soon learnt 
 that the object of our expedition was to fill our sacks with cocoa- 
 nuts, but w^hen at length I saw the trees and noted their im- 
 mense height and the slippery smoothness of their slender 
 trunks, I did not at all understand how we were to do it. The 
 crowns of the cocoa-palms were all alive with monkeys, big and 
 little, which skipped from one to the other with surprising 
 agility, seeming to be curious about us and disturbed at our 
 appearance, and I was at first surprised when my companions 
 after collecting stones began to throw them at the lively creat- 
 ures, which seemed to me quite harmless. But very soon I 
 saw the reason of it and joined them heartily, for the monkeys, 
 annoyed and wishing to pay us back in our own coin, began to 
 tear the nuts from the trees and cast them at us with angry and 
 spiteful gestures, so that after very little labor our sacks were 
 filled with the fruit which we could not otherwise have ob- 
 tained. 
 
 As soon as we had as many as we could carry we went back 
 to the town, where my friend bought my share and advised me 
 to continue the same occupation until I had earned money 
 enough to carry me to my own country. This I did, and before 
 long had amassed a considerable sum. Just then I heard that 
 there was a trading ship ready to sail, and taking leave of my 
 friend I went on board, carrying with me a goodly store of 
 cocoanuts ; and we sailed first to the islands where pepper 
 grows, then to Comari where the best aloes-wood is found, and 
 where men drink no wine by an unalterable law. Here I ex- 
 changed my nuts for pepper and good aloes-wood, and went a- 
 fishing for pearls with some of the other merchants, and my 
 divers were so lucky that very soon I had an immense number, 
 and those very large and perfect. With all these treasures I 
 came joyfully back to Bagdad, where I disposed of them for
 
 ,24 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 large sums of money, of which I did not fail as before to give 
 the tenth part to the poor, and after that I rested from my labors 
 and comforted myself with all the pleasures that my riches 
 could give me. 
 
 Having thus ended his story, Sindbad ordered that one hun- 
 dred sequins should be given to Hindbad, and the guests then 
 withdrew ; but after the next day's feast he began the account 
 of his sixth voyage as follows.
 
 SIXTH VOYAGE 
 
 IT must be a marvel to you how, after having five times met 
 with shipwreck and unheard-of perils, I could again tempt 
 fortune and risk fresh trouble. I am even surprised my- 
 self when I look back, but evidently it was my fate to rove, and 
 after a year of repose I prepared to make a sixth voyage, re- 
 gardless of the entreaties of my friends and relations, who did 
 all they could to keep me at home. Instead of going by the 
 Persian Gulf. I travelled a considerable way overland, and 
 finally embarked from a distant Indian port with a captain who 
 meant to make a long voyage. And truly he did so, for we fell 
 in with stormy weather which drove us completely out of our 
 course, so that for many days neither captain nor pilot knew 
 where we were, nor where we were going. When they did at 
 last discover our position we had small ground for rejoicing, 
 for the captain, casting his turban upon the deck and tearing 
 his beard, declared that we were in the most dangerous spot 
 upon the whole wide sea, and had been caught by a current 
 which was at that moment sweeping us to destruction. It was 
 too true ! In spite of all the sailors could do we were driven 
 with frightful rapidity towards the foot of a mountain, which 
 rose sheer out of the sea, and our vessel was dashed to pieces 
 upon the rocks at its base, not, however, until we had managed 
 to scramble on shore, carrying with us the most precious of our 
 possessions. When we had done this the captain said to us : — 
 
 " Now we are here we may as well begin to dig our graves 
 at once, since from this fatal spot no shipwrecked mariner has 
 ever returned." 
 
 This speech discouraged us much, and we began to lament 
 over our sad fate. 
 
 The mountain formed the seaward boundary of a large isl- 
 and, and the narrow strip of rocky shore upon which we stood 
 was strewn with the wreckage of a thousand gallant ships, 
 while the bones of the luckless mariners shone white in the sun- 
 
 125
 
 126 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 shine, and we shuddered to think how soon our own would be 
 added to the heap. All around, too, lay vast quantities of the 
 costliest merchandise, and treasures were heaped in ever}' cranny 
 of the rocks, but all these things only added to the desolation of 
 the scene. It struck me as a very strange thing that a river 
 of clear fresh water, which gushed out from the mountain not 
 far from where we stood, instead of flowing into the sea as 
 rivers generally do, turned off sharply, and flowed out of sight 
 under a natural archway of rock, and when I went to examine 
 it more closely I found that inside the cave the walls were thick 
 with diamonds, rubies, and masses of crystal, and the floor 
 was strewn with ambergris. Here, then, upon this desolate 
 shore we abandoned ourselves to our fate, for there was no pos- 
 sibility of scaling the mountain, and if a ship had appeared it 
 could only have shared our doom. The first thing our captain 
 did was to divide equally amongst us all the food we possessed, 
 and then the length of each man's life depended on the time he 
 could make his portion last. I myself could live upon very 
 little. 
 
 Nevertheless, by the time I had buried the last of my com- 
 panions my stock of provisions was so small that I hardly 
 thought I should live long enough to dig my own grave, which 
 I set about doing, while I regretted bitterly the roving disposi- 
 tion which was always bringing me into such straits, and 
 thought longingly of all the comfort and luxury that I had left. 
 But luckily for me the fancy took me to stand once more beside 
 the river where it plunged out of sight in the depths of the cav- 
 ern, and as I did so an idea struck me. This river which hid it- 
 self underground doubtless emerged again at some distant spot. 
 Why should I not build a raft and trust myself to its swiftly 
 fliowing waters? If I perished before I could reach the light 
 of day once more I should be no worse off than I was now, for 
 death stared me in the face, while there was always the possi- 
 bility that, as I was born under a lucky star, I might find myself 
 safe and sound in some desirable land. I decided at any rate 
 to risk it, and speedily built myself a stout raft of drift-wood 
 with strong cords, of which enough and to spare lay strewn 
 upon the beach. I then made up many packages of rubies, em- 
 eralds, rock crystal, ambergris, and precious stuffs, and bound 
 them upon my raft, being careful to preserve the balance, and 
 then I seated myself upon it, having two small oars that I had
 
 SIXTH VOYAGE 127 
 
 fashioned laid ready to my hand, and loosed the cord which held 
 it to the bank. Once out in the current my raft flew swiftly 
 under the gloomy archway, and I found myself in total dark- 
 ness, carried smoothly forward by the rapid river. On I went 
 as it seemed to me for many nights and days. Once the chan- 
 nel became so small that I had a narrow escape of being crushed 
 against the rocky roof, and after that I took the precaution of 
 lying flat upon my precious bales. Though I only ate what was 
 absolutely necessary to keep myself alive, the inevitable mo- 
 ment came when, after swallowing my last morsel of food, I 
 began to wonder if I must after all die of hunger. Then, worn 
 out with anxiety and fatigue, I fell into a deep sleep, and when 
 I again opened my eyes I was once more in the light of day ; a 
 beautiful country lay before me, and my raft, which was tied to 
 the river bank, was surrounded by friendly looking black men. 
 I rose and saluted them, and they spoke to me in return, but I 
 could not understand a word of their language. Feeling per- 
 fectly bewildered by my sudden return to life and light, I 
 murmured to myself in Arabic, " Close thine eyes, and while 
 thou sleepest Heaven will change thy fortune from evil to 
 good." 
 
 One of the natives, who understood this tongue, then came 
 forward saying: — 
 
 " My brother, be not surprised to see us ; this is our land, 
 and as we came to get water from the river we noticed your raft 
 floating down it, and one of us swam out and brought you to 
 the shore. We have waited for your awakening ; tell us now 
 whence you come and where you were going by that dangerous 
 way?" 
 
 I replied that nothing would please me better than to tell 
 them, but that I was starving, and would fain eat something 
 first. I was soon supplied with all I needed, and having satis- 
 fied my hunger I told them faithfully all that had befallen me. 
 They were lost in wonder at my tale when it was interpreted to 
 them, and said that adventures so surprising must be related to 
 their King only by the man to whom they had happened. So, 
 procuring a horse, they mounted me upon it, and we set out, 
 followed by several strong men carrying my raft just as it was 
 upon their shoulders. In this order we marched into the city 
 of Serendib, where the natives presented me to their King, 
 whom I saluted in the Indian fashion, prostrating myself at
 
 ia8 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 his feet and kissing the ground ; but the monarch bade me 
 rise and sit beside him, asking first what was my name. 
 
 " I am Sindbad." I repHed, " whom men call ' the Sailor,' for 
 I have voyaged much upon many seas." 
 
 " And how came you here? " asked the King. 
 
 I told my story, concealing nothing, and his surprise and de- 
 light were so great that he ordered my adventures to be written 
 in letters of gold and laid up in the archives of his kingdom. 
 
 Presently my raft was brought in and the bales opened in his 
 presence, and the king declared that in all his treasury there 
 were no such rubies and emeralds as those which lay in great 
 heaps before him. Seeing that he looked at them with interest, 
 I ventured to say that I myself and all that I had were at his 
 disposal, but he answered me smiling: — 
 
 " Nay, Sindbad. Heaven forbid that I should covet your 
 riches ; I will rather add to them, for I desire that you shall not 
 leave my kingdom without some tokens of my good-will." He 
 then commanded his officers to provide me with a suitable lodg- 
 ing at his expense, and sent slaves to wait upon me and carry 
 my raft and my bales to my new dwelling-place. You may 
 imagine that I praised his generosity and gave him grateful 
 thanks, nor did I fail to present myself daily in his audience- 
 chamber, and for the rest of my time I amused myself in seeing 
 all that was most worthy of attention in the city. The island of 
 Serendib being situated on the equinoctial line, the days and 
 nights there are of equal length. The chief city is placed at the 
 end of a beautiful valley, formed by the highest mountain in the 
 world, which is in the middle of the island. I had the curi- 
 osity to ascend to its very summit, for this was the place to 
 which Adam was banished out of Paradise. Here are found 
 rubies and many precious things, and rare plants grow abun- 
 dantly, with cedar-trees and cocoa-palms. On the sea-shore 
 and at the mouths of the rivers the divers seek for pearls, and 
 in some valleys diamonds are plentiful. After many days I peti- 
 tioned the King that I might return to my own country, to which 
 he graciously consented. Moreover, he loaded me with rich 
 gifts, and when I went to take leave of him he intrusted me 
 with a royal present and a letter to the Commander of the Faith- 
 ful, our sovereign lord, saying, " I pray you give these to the 
 Caliph Harun-al-Rashid, and assure him of my friendship." 
 
 I accepted the charge respectfully, and soon embarked upon
 
 SIXTH VOYAGE 129 
 
 the vessel which the King himself had chosen for me. The 
 King's letter was written in blue characters upon a rare and pre- 
 cious skin of yellowish color, and these were the words of it: 
 " The King of the Indies, before whom walk a thousand ele- 
 phants, who lives in a palace, of which the roof blazes with a 
 hundred thousand rubies, and whose treasure-house contains 
 twenty thousand diamond crow^ns, to the Caliph Harun-al- 
 Rashid sends greeting. Though the oflfering we present to 
 you is unworthy of your notice, we pray you to accept it as a 
 mark of the esteem and friendship which we cherish for you, 
 and of which we gladly send you this token, and we ask of you a 
 like regard if you deem us worthy of it. Adieu, brother." 
 
 The present consisted of a vase carved from a single ruby, six 
 inches high and as thick as my finger ; this was filled with the 
 choicest pearls, large, and of perfect shape and lustre ; sec- 
 ondly, a huge snake-skin, with scales as large as a sequin, which 
 would preserve from sickness those who slept upon it. Then 
 quantities of aloes-wood, camphor, and pistachio-nuts ; and 
 lastly, a beautiful slave-girl, whose robes glittered with pre- 
 cious stones. 
 
 After a long and prosperous voyage we landed at Balsora, 
 and I made haste to reach Bagdad, and taking the King's letter 
 I presented myself at the palace gate, followed by the beautiful 
 slave, and various members of my own family, bearing the 
 treasure. 
 
 As soon as I had declared my errand I was conducted into the 
 presence of the Caliph, to whom, after I had made my obeisance, 
 I gave the letter and the King's gift, and when he had exam- 
 ined them he demanded of me whether the Prince of Serendib 
 was really as rich and powerful as he claimed to be. 
 
 " Commander of the Faithful," I replied, again bowing hum- 
 bly before him, " I can assure your Majesty that he has in no 
 way exaggerated his wealth and grandeur. Nothing can equal 
 the magnificence of his palace. When he goes abroad his throne 
 is prepared upon the back of an elephant, and on either side of 
 him ride his ministers, his favorites, and courtiers. On his 
 elephant's neck sits an officer, his golden lance in his hand, and 
 behind him stands another bearing a pillar of gold, at the top of 
 which is an emerald as long as my hand. A thousand men in 
 cloth of gold, mounted upon richly caparisoned elephants, go 
 before him, and as the procession moves onward the officer who 
 Vol. lYa.—9
 
 I30 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 guides his elephant cries aloud, ' Behold the mighty monarch, 
 the powerful and valiant Sultan of the Indies, whose palace is 
 covered with a hundred thousand rubies, who possesses twenty 
 thousand diamond crowns. Behold a monarch greater than 
 Solomon and Mihrage in all their glory ! ' 
 
 " Then the one who stands behind the throne answers : ' This 
 king, so great and powerful, must die, must die, must die ! ' 
 
 " And the first takes up the chant again, ' All praise to Him 
 who lives for evermore.' 
 
 " Further, my lord, in Serendib no judge is needed, for to 
 the King himself his people come for justice." 
 
 The Caliph was well satisfied with my report. 
 
 " From the King's letter," said he, " I judged that he was a 
 wise man. It seems that he is worthy of his people, and his 
 people of him." 
 
 So saying he dismissed me with rich presents, and I returned 
 in peace to my own house. 
 
 When Sindbad had done speaking his guests withdrew, 
 Hindbad having first received a hundred sequins, but all re- 
 turned next day to hear the story of the seventh voyage.
 
 SEVENTH AND LAST VOYAGE 
 
 AFTER my sixth voyage I was quite determined that I 
 would go to sea no more. I was now of an age to ap- 
 preciate a quiet Hfe, and I had run risks enough. 1 
 only wished to end my days in peace. One day, however, when 
 I was entertaining a number of my friends, I was told that an 
 officer of the Caliph wished to speak to me, and when he was ad- 
 mitted he bade me to follow him into the presence of Harun-al- 
 Rashid, which I accordingly did. After I had saluted him, 
 the Caliph said : — 
 
 " I have sent for you, Sindbad, because I need your services. 
 I have chosen you to bear a letter and a gift to the King of 
 Serendib in return for his message of friendship." 
 
 The Caliph's commandment fell upon me like a thunderbolt. 
 
 " Commander of the Faithful," I answered, *' I am ready to 
 do all that your Majesty commands, but I humbly pray you to 
 remember that I am utterly disheartened by the unheard-of 
 sufferings I have undergone. Indeed, I have made a vow never 
 again to leave Bagdad." 
 
 With this I gave him a long account of some of my strangest 
 adventures, to which he listened patiently. 
 
 " I admit," said he, " that you have indeed had some extraor- 
 dinary experiences, but I do not see why they should hinder 
 you from doing as I wish. You have only to go straight to 
 Serendib and give my message, then you are free to come back 
 and do as you will. But go you must ; my honor and dignity 
 demand it." 
 
 Seeing that there was no help for it, I declared myself willing 
 to obey; and the Caliph, delighted at having got his own way, 
 gave me a thousand sequins for the expenses of the voyage. I 
 was soon ready to start, and taking the letter and the present I 
 embarked at Balsora, and sailed quickly and safely to Serendib. 
 Here, when I had disclosed my errand, I was well received, and 
 brought into the presence of the king, who greeted me with joy. 
 
 131
 
 132 
 
 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 " Welcome, Sindbad," he cried. " I have thought of you 
 often, and rejoice to see you once more." 
 
 After thanking him for the honor that he did me, I displayed 
 the Caliph's gifts. First a bed with complete hangings all 
 cloth of gold, which cost a thousand sequins, and another like to 
 it of crimson stuff. Fifty robes of rich embroidery, a hundred 
 of the finest white linen from Cairo, Suez, Cufa, and Alexan- 
 dria. Then more beds of different fashion, and an agate vase 
 carved with the figure of a man aiming an arrow at a lion, and 
 finally a costly table, which had once belonged to King Solo- 
 mon. The King of Serendib received with satisfaction the as- 
 surance of the Caliph's friendliness towards him, and now my 
 task being accomplished I was anxious to depart, but it was 
 some time before the king would think of letting me go. At 
 last, however, he dismissed me with many presents, and I lost 
 no time in going on board a ship, which sailed at once, and for 
 four days all went well. On the fifth day we had the misfor- 
 tune to fall in with pirates, who seized our vessel, killing all 
 who resisted, and making prisoners of those who were prudent 
 enough to submit at once, of whom I was one. When they had 
 despoiled us of all we possessed, they forced us to put on vile 
 raiment, and sailing to a distant island there sold us for slaves. 
 I fell into the hands of a rich merchant, who took me home with 
 him, and clothed and fed me well, and after some days sent for 
 me and questioned me as to what I could do. 
 
 I answered that I was a rich merchant who had been cap- 
 tured by pirates, and therefore I knew no trade. 
 
 " Tell me," said he, " can you shoot with a bow ? " 
 
 I replied that this had been one of the pastimes of my youth, 
 and that doubtless with practice my skill would come back to 
 me. 
 
 Upon this he provided me with a bow and arrows, and 
 mounting me with him upon his own elephant took the way to 
 a vast forest which lay far from the town. When we had 
 reached the wildest part of it we stopped, and my master said 
 to me : " This forest swarms with elephants. Hide yourself 
 in this great tree, and shoot at all that pass you. When you 
 have succeeded in killing one come and tell me." 
 
 So saying he gave me a supply of food, and returned to the 
 town, and I perched myself high up in the tree and kept watch. 
 That night I saw nothing, but just after sunrise the next
 
 SEVENTH AND LAST VOYAGE 133 
 
 morning a large herd of elephants came crashing and trampling 
 by. I lost no time in letting fly several arrows, and at last one 
 of the great animals fell to the ground dead, and the others re- 
 treated, leaving me free to come down from my hiding-place 
 and run back to tell my master of my success, for which I was 
 praised and regaled with good things. Then we went back to 
 the forest together and dug a mighty trench in which wc buried 
 the elephant I had killed, in order that when it became a skele- 
 ton my master might return and secure its tusks. 
 
 For two months I hunted thus, and no day passed without 
 my securing an elephant. Of course I did not always station 
 myself in the same tree, but sometimes in one place, sometimes 
 in another. One morning as I watched the coming of the ele- 
 phants I was surprised to see that, instead of passing the tree I 
 was in, as they usually did, they paused, and completely sur- 
 rounded it, trumpeting horribly, and shaking the very ground 
 with their heavy tread, and when I saw that their eyes were 
 fixed upon me I was terrified, and my arrows dropped from my 
 trembling hand. I had indeed good reason for my terror when, 
 an instant later, the largest of the animals wound his trunk 
 round the stem of my tree, and with one mighty effort tore it 
 up by the roots, bringing me to the ground entangled in its 
 branches. I thought now that my last hour was surely come, 
 but the huge creature, picking me up gently enough, set me 
 upon its back, where I clung more dead than alive, and followed 
 by the whole herd turned and crashed off into the dense forest. 
 It seemed to me a long time before I was once more set upon my 
 feet by the elephant, and I stood as if in a dream watching the 
 herd, which turned and trampled off in another direction, and 
 were soon hidden in the dense underwood. Then, recovering 
 myself, I looked about me, and found that I was standing upon 
 the side of a great hill, strewn as far as I could see on either 
 hand with bones and tusks of elephants. " This then must be 
 the elephants' burying-place," I said to myself, " and they must 
 have brought me here that I might cease to persecute them, see- 
 ing that I want nothing but their tusks, and here lie more than 
 I could carry away in a lifetime." 
 
 Whereupon I turned and made for the city as fast as I could 
 go, not seeing a single elephant by the way, which convinced 
 me that they had retired deeper into the forest to leave the way 
 open to the Ivory Hill, and I did not know how sufficiently to
 
 J34 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 admire their sagacity. After a day and a night I reached my 
 master's house, and was received by him with joyful surprise. 
 
 " Ah ! poor Sindbad," he cried, " I was wondering what 
 could have become of you. When I went to the forest I found 
 the tree newly uprooted, and the arrows lying beside it, and I 
 feared I should never see you again. Pray tell me how you 
 escaped death." 
 
 I soon satisfied his curiosity, and the next day we went to- 
 gether to the Ivory Hill, and he was overjoyed to find that I 
 had told him nothing but the truth. When we had loaded our 
 elephant with as many tusks as it could carry and were on our 
 way back to the city, he said : — 
 
 " My brother — since I can no longer treat as a slave one who 
 has enriched me thus — take your liberty, and may Heaven pros- 
 per you. I will no longer conceal from you that these wild 
 elephants have killed numbers of our slaves every year. No 
 matter what good advice we gave them, they were caught 
 sooner or later. You alone have escaped the wiles of these ani- 
 mals, therefore you must be under the special protection of 
 Heaven. Now through you the whole town will be enriched 
 without further loss of life, therefore you shall not only receive 
 your liberty, but I will also bestow a fortune upon you." 
 
 To which I replied, " Master, I thank you, and wish you all 
 prosperity. For myself I only ask liberty to return to my own 
 country." 
 
 " It is well," he answered, " the monsoon will soon bring the 
 ivory ships hither, then I will send you on your way with 
 somewhat to pay your passage." 
 
 So I stayed with him till the time of the monsoon, and every 
 day we added to our store of ivory till all his warehouses were 
 overflowing with it. By this time the other merchants knew 
 the secret, but there was enough and to spare for all. When 
 the ships at last arrived my master himself chose the one in 
 which I was to sail, and put on board for me a great store of 
 choice provisions, also ivory in abundance, and all the costliest 
 curiosities of the country, for which I could not thank him 
 enough, and so we parted. I left the ship at the first port we 
 came to, not feeling at ease upon the sea after all that had hap- 
 pened to me by reason of it, and having disposed of my ivory 
 for much gold, and bought many rare and costly presents, I 
 loaded my pack animals, and joined a caravan of merchants.
 
 SEVENTH AND LAST VOYAGE 135 
 
 Our journey was long and tedious, but I bore it patiently, re- 
 flecting that at least I had not to fear tempests, nor pirates, nor 
 serpents, nor any of the other perils from which I had suffered 
 before, and at length we reached Bagdad. My first care was 
 to present myself before the Caliph, and give him an account of 
 my embassy. He assured me that my long absence had dis- 
 quieted him much, but he had nevertheless hoped for the best. 
 As to my adventure among the elephants he heard it with 
 amazement, declaring that he could not have believed it had not 
 my truthfulness been well-known to him. 
 
 By his orders this story and the others I had told him were 
 written by his scribes in letters of gold, and laid up among his 
 treasures. I took my leave of him, well satisfied with the hon- 
 ors and rewards he bestowed upon me ; and since that time I 
 have rested from my labors, and given myself up wholly to my 
 family and my friends. 
 
 Thus Sindbad ended the story of his seventh and last voyage, 
 and turning to Hindbad he added : — 
 
 " Well, my friend, and what do you think now ? Have you 
 ever heard of anyone who has suffered more, or had more nar- 
 row escapes than I have? Is it not just that I should now 
 enjoy a life of ease and tranquillity?" 
 
 Hindbad drew near, and kissing his hand respectfully, re- 
 plied, " Sir, you have indeed known fearful perils ; my troubles 
 have been nothing compared to yours. Moreover, the generous 
 use you make of your wealth proves that you deserve it. May 
 you live long and happily in the enjoyment of it." 
 
 Sindbad then gave him a hundred sequins, and hencefor- 
 ward counted him among his friends ; also he caused him to 
 give up his profession as a porter, and to eat daily at his table 
 that he might all his life remember Sindbad the Sailor.
 
 ALADDIN'S WONDERFUL LAMP 
 
 THERE once lived a poor tailor, who had a son called 
 Aladdin, a careless, idle boy, who would do nothing but 
 play all day long in the streets with little idle boys like 
 himself. This so grieved the father that he died ; yet, in spite 
 of his mother's tears and prayers, Aladdin did not mend his 
 ways. One day, when he was playing in the streets as usual, a 
 stranger asked him his age, and if he were not the son of Mus- 
 tapha the tailor. 
 
 " I am, sir," replied Aladdin ; " but he died a long while 
 ago. 
 
 On this the stranger, who was a famous African magician, 
 fell on his neck and kissed him, saying : " I am your uncle, and 
 knew you from your likeness to my brother. Go to your 
 mother and tell her I am coming." 
 
 Aladdin ran home, and told his mother of his newly-found 
 uncle. 
 
 " Indeed, child," she said, " your father had a brother, but I 
 always thought he was dead." 
 
 However, she prepared supper, and bade Aladdin seek his 
 uncle, who came laden with wine and fruit. He presently 
 fell down and kissed the place where Mustapha used to sit, 
 bidding Aladdin's mother not to be surprised at not having seen 
 him before, as he had been forty years out of the country. He 
 then turned to Aladdin and asked him his trade, at which the 
 boy hung his head, while his mother burst into tears. On learn- 
 ing that Aladdin was idle and would learn no trade, he offered 
 to take a shop for him and stock it with merchandise. Next 
 day he bought Aladdin a fine suit of clothes, and took him all 
 over the city, showing him the sights, and brought him home at 
 nightfall to his mother, who was overjoyed to see her son so 
 fine. 
 
 Next day the magician led Aladdin into some beautiful gar- 
 dens a long way outside the city gates. They sat down by a 
 
 136
 
 ALADDIN'S WONDERFUL LAMP 137 
 
 fountain, and the magician pulled a cake from his girdle, which 
 he divided between them. They then journeyed onwards till 
 they almost reached the mountains. Aladdin was so tired that 
 he begged to go back, but the magician beguiled him with pleas- 
 ant stories, and led him on in spite of himself. 
 
 At last they came to two mountains divided by a narrow val- 
 ley. 
 
 " We will go no farther," said the false uncle. " I will show 
 you something wonderful ; only do you gather up sticks while 
 I kindle a fire." 
 
 When it was lit the magician threw on it a powder he had 
 about him, at the same time saying some magical words. The 
 earth trembled a little and opened in front of them, disclosing 
 a square flat stone with a brass ring in the middle to raise it by. 
 Aladdin tried to run away, but the magician caught him and 
 gave him a blow that knocked him down. 
 
 " What have I done, uncle ? " he said piteously ; whereupon 
 the magician said more kindly : " Fear nothing, but obey me. 
 Beneath this stone lies a treasure which is to be yours, and no 
 one else may touch it, so you must do exactly as I tell you." 
 
 At the word treasure, Aladdin forgot his fears, and grasped 
 the ring as he was told, saying the names of his father and 
 grandfather. The stone came up quite easily and some steps 
 appeared. 
 
 " Go down," said the magician ; " at the foot of those steps 
 you will find an open door leading into three large halls. Tuck 
 up your gown and go through them without touching anything, 
 or you will die instantly. These halls lead into a garden of fine 
 fruit-trees. Walk on till you come to a niche in a terrace where 
 stands a lighted lamp. Pour out the oil it contains and bring 
 it to me." 
 
 He drew a ring from his finger and gave it to Aladdin, bid- 
 ding him prosper. 
 
 Aladdin found everything as the magician had said, gath- 
 ered some fruit off the trees, and, having got the lamp, arrived 
 at the mouth of the cave. The magician cried out in a great 
 hurry : — 
 
 " Make haste and give me the lamp." This Aladdin refused 
 to do until he was out of the cave. The magician flew into a 
 terrible passion, and throwing some more powder on the fire, 
 he said something, and the stone rolled back into its place.
 
 138 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 The magician left Persia forever, which plainly showed that 
 he was no uncle of Aladdin's, but a cunning magician who had 
 read in his magic books of a wonderful lamp, which would 
 make him the most powerful man in the world. Though he 
 alone knew where to find it, he could only receive it from the 
 hand of another. He had picked out the foolish Aladdin for 
 this purpose, intending to get the lamp and kill him afterwards. 
 
 For two days Aladdin remained in the dark, crying and la- 
 menting. At last he clasped his hands in prayer, and in so 
 doing rubbed the ring, which the magician had forgotten to 
 take from him. Immediately an enormous and frightful genie 
 rose out of the earth, saying : — 
 
 " What wouldst thou with me ? I am the Slave of the Ring, 
 and will obey thee in all things." 
 
 Aladdin fearlessly replied: "Deliver me from this place!" 
 whereupon the earth opened, and he found himself outside. As 
 soon as his eyes could bear the light he went home, but fainted 
 on the threshold. When he came to himself he told his mother 
 what had passed, and showed her the lamp and the fruits he had 
 gathered in the garden, which were in reality precious stones. 
 He then asked for some food. 
 
 " Alas ! child," she said, " I have nothing in the house, but I 
 have spun a little cotton and will go and sell it." 
 
 Aladdin bade her keep her cotton, for he would sell the 
 lamp instead. As it was very dirty she began to rub it, that 
 it might fetch a higher price. Instantly a hideous genie ap- 
 peared, and asked what she would have. She fainted away, 
 but Aladdin, snatching the lamp, said boldly: — 
 
 " Fetch me something to eat ! " 
 
 The genie returned with a silver bowl, twelve silver plates 
 containing rich meats, two silver cups, and two bottles of wine. 
 Aladdin's mother, when she came to herself, said : — 
 
 " Whence comes this splendid feast ? " 
 
 " Ask not, but eat," replied Aladdin. 
 
 So they sat at breakfast till it was dinner-time, and Aladdin 
 told his mother about the lamp. She begged him to sell it, 
 and have nothing to do with devils. 
 
 " No," said Aladdin, " since chance has made us aware of 
 its virtues, we will use it and the ring likewise, which I shall 
 always wear on my finger." When they had eaten all the 
 genie had brought, Aladdin sold one of the silver plates, and
 
 ALADDIN'S WONDERFUL LAMP 139 
 
 SO on till none was left. He then had recourse to the genie, 
 who gave him another set of plates, and thus they lived for 
 many years. 
 
 One day Aladdin heard an order from the Sultan proclaimed 
 that everyone was to stay at home and close his shutters while 
 the princess, his daughter, went to and from the bath. Alad- 
 din was seized by a desire to see her face, which was very 
 difficult, as she always went veiled. He hid himself behind 
 the door of the bath, and peeped through a chink. The princess 
 lifted her veil as she went in, and looked so beautiful that 
 Aladdin fell in love with her at first sight. He went home 
 so changed that his mother was frightened. He told her he 
 loved the princess so deeply that he could not live without her, 
 and meant to ask her in marriage of her father. His mother, 
 on hearing this, burst out laughing, but Aladdin at last pre- 
 vailed upon her to go before the Sultan and carry his re- 
 quest. She fetched a napkin and laid in it the magic fruits 
 from the enchanted garden, which sparkled and shone like the 
 most beautiful jewels. She took these with her to please the 
 Sultan, and set out, trusting in the lamp. The grand-vizir and 
 the lords of council had just gone in as she entered the hall and 
 placed herself in front of the Sultan. He, however, took no 
 notice of her. She went every day for a week, and stood in the 
 same place. 
 
 When the council broke up on the sixth day the Sultan said 
 to his vizir : " I see a certain woman in the audience-chamber 
 every day carrying something in a napkin. Call her next time, 
 that I may find out what she wants." 
 
 Next day, at a sign from the vizir, she went up to the foot 
 of the throne, and remained kneeling till the Sultan said to 
 her : " Rise, good woman, and tell me what you want." 
 
 She hesitated, so the Sultan sent away all but the vizir, and 
 bade her speak freely, promising to forgive her beforehand for 
 anything she might say. She then told him of her son's violent 
 love for the princess. 
 
 " I prayed him to forget her," she said, " but in vain ; he 
 threatened to do some desperate deed if I refused to go and ask 
 your Majesty for the hand of the princess. Now I pray you to 
 forgive not me alone, but my son Aladdin." 
 
 The Sultan asked her kindly what she had in the napkin, 
 whereupon she unfolded the jewels and presented them.
 
 I40 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 He was thunderstruck, and turning to the vizir said : " What 
 sayest thou? Ought I not to bestow the princess on one who 
 values her at such a price? " 
 
 The vizir, who wanted her for his own son, begged the Sul- 
 tan to withhold her for three months, in the course of which he 
 hoped his son would contrive to make him a richer present. 
 The Sultan granted this, and told Aladdin's mother that, 
 though he consented to the marriage, she must not appear be- 
 fore him again for three months. 
 
 Aladdin waited patiently for nearly three months, but after 
 two had elapsed his mother, going into the city to buy oil, found 
 everyone rejoicing, and asked what was going on. 
 
 " Do you not know," was the answer, " that the son of the 
 grand-vizir is to marry the Sultan's daughter to-night? " 
 
 Breathless, she ran and told Aladdin, who was overwhelmed 
 at first, but presently bethought him of the lamp. He rubbed 
 it, and the genie appeared, saying: '' What is thy will?" 
 
 Aladdin replied : " The Sultan, as thou knowest, has broken 
 his promise to me, and the vizir's son is to have the princess. 
 My command is that to-night you bring hither the bride and 
 bridegroom." 
 
 " Master, I obey," said the genie. 
 
 Aladdin then went to his chamber, where, sure enough at 
 midnight the genie transported the bed containing the vizir's 
 son and the princess. 
 
 " Take this new-married man," he said, " and put him out- 
 side in the cold, and return at daybreak." 
 
 Whereupon the genie took the vizir's son out of bed, leaving 
 Aladdin with the princess. 
 
 " Fear nothing," Aladdin said to her ; " you are my wife, 
 promised to me by your unjust father, and no harm shall come 
 to you." 
 
 The princess was too frightened to speak, and passed the 
 most miserable night of her life, while Aladdin lay down beside 
 her and slept soundly. At the appointed hour the genie fetched 
 in the shivering bridegroom, laid him in his place, and trans- 
 ported the bed back to the palace. 
 
 Presently the Sultan came to wish his daughter good-morn- 
 ing. The unhappy vizir's son jumped up and hid himself, 
 while the princess would not say a word, and was very sor- 
 rowful.
 
 ALADDIN'S WONDERFUL LAMP 141 
 
 The Sultan sent her mother to her, who said : " How comes 
 it, chikl, that you will not speak to your father? What has 
 happened ? " 
 
 The princess sighed deeply, and at last told her mother how, 
 during the night, the bed had been carried into some strange 
 house, and what had passed there. Her mother did not be- 
 lieve her in the least, but bade her rise and consider it an idle 
 dream. 
 
 The following night exactly the same thing happened, and 
 next morning, on the princess's refusing to speak, the Sultan 
 threatened to cut off her head. She then confessed all, bid- 
 ding him ask the vizir's son if it were not so. The Sultan told 
 the vizir to ask his son, who owned the truth, adding that, 
 dearly as he loved the princess, he had rather die than go 
 through another such fearful night, and wished to be sepa- 
 rated from her. His wish was granted, and there was an end 
 of feasting and rejoicing. 
 
 When the three months were over, Aladdin sent his mother 
 to remind the Sultan of his promise. She stood in the same 
 place as before, and the Sultan, who had forgotten Aladdin, 
 at once remembered him, and sent for her. On seeing her 
 poverty the Sultan felt less inclined than ever to keep his word, 
 and asked the vizir's advice, who counselled him to set so high 
 a value on the princess that no man living could come up to it. 
 
 The Sultan then turned to Aladdin's mother, saying : " Good 
 woman, a Sultan must remember his promises, and I will re- 
 member mine, but your son must first send me forty basins of 
 gold brimful of jewels, carried by forty black slaves, led by 
 as many white ones, splendidly dressed. Tell him that I await 
 his answer." The mother of Aladdin bowed low and went 
 home, thinking all was lost. 
 
 She gave Aladdin the message, adding : " He may wait long 
 enough for your answer ! " 
 
 " Not so long, mother, as you think," her son replied. " I 
 would do a great deal more than that for the princess." He 
 summoned the genie, and in a few moments the eighty slaves 
 arrived, and filled up the small house and garden. 
 
 Aladdin made them set out to the palace, two and two, fol- 
 lowed by his mother. They were so richly dressed, with such 
 splendid jewels in their girdles, that everyone crowded to see 
 them and the basins of gold they carried on their heads.
 
 142 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 They entered the palace, and, after kneehng before the Sul- 
 tan, stood in a half-circle round the throne with their arms 
 crossed, while Aladdin's mother presented them to the Sultan. 
 
 He hesitated no longer, but said : " Good woman, return 
 and tell your son that I wait for him with open arms." 
 
 She lost no time in telling Aladdin, bidding him make haste. 
 But Aladdin first called the genie. 
 
 " I want a scented bath," he said, " a richly embroidered 
 habit, a horse surpassing the Sultan's, and twenty slaves to 
 attend me. Besides this, six slaves, beautifully dressed, to 
 wait on my mother; and lastly, ten thousand pieces of gold 
 in ten purses." 
 
 No sooner said than done. Aladdin mounted his horse and 
 passed through the streets, the slaves strewing gold as they 
 went. Those who had played with him in his childhood knew 
 him not, he had grown so handsome. 
 
 When the Sultan saw him he came down from his throne, 
 embraced him, and led him into a hall where a feast was spread, 
 intending to marry him to the princess that very day. 
 
 But Aladdin refused, saying, " I must build a palace fit for 
 her," and took his leave. 
 
 Once home he said to the genie : " Build me a palace of 
 the finest marble, set with jasper, agate, and other precious 
 stones. In the middle you shall build me a large hall with a 
 dome, its four walls of massy gold and silver, each side hav- 
 ing six windows, whose lattices, all except one, which is to 
 be left unfinished, must be set with diamonds and rubies. There 
 must be stables and horses and grooms and slaves ; go and 
 see about it ! " 
 
 The palace was finished by next day, and the genie carried 
 him there and showed him all his orders faithfully carried out, 
 even to the laying of a velvet carpet from Aladdin's palace to 
 the Sultan's. Aladdin's mother then dressed herself carefully, 
 and walked to the palace with her slaves, while he followed 
 her on horseback. The Sultan sent musicians with trumpets 
 and cymbals to meet them, so that the air resounded with music 
 and cheers. She was taken to the princess, who saluted her 
 and treated her with great honor. At night the princess said 
 good-by to her father, and set out on the carpet for Aladdin's 
 palace, with his mother at her side, and followed by the hun-
 
 ALADDIN'S WONDERFUL LAMP 
 
 143 
 
 dred slaves. She was charmed at the sight of Alad(Hn, who 
 ran to receive her. 
 
 " Princess," he said, " hlanic your beauty for my bokhiess 
 if I have (Uspleased you." 
 
 She told him that, having seen him, she willingly obeyed 
 her father in this matter. After the wedding had taken place 
 Aladdin led her into the hall, where a feast was spread, and 
 she supped with him, after which they danced till midnight. 
 
 Next day Aladdin invited the Sultan to see the palace. On 
 entering the hall with the four-and-twenty windows, with their 
 rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, he cried : — 
 
 " It is a world's wonder ! There is only one thing that sur- 
 prises me. Was it by accident that one window was left un- 
 finished? " 
 
 " No, sir, by design," returned xAladdin. " I wished your 
 Majesty to have the glory of finishing this palace." 
 
 The Sultan was pleased, and sent for the best jewellers in 
 the city. He showed them the unfinished window, and bade 
 them fit it up like the others. 
 
 " Sir." replied their spokesman, " we cannot find jewels 
 enough." 
 
 The Sultan had his own fetched, which they soon used, but 
 to no purpose, for in a month's time the work was not half 
 done. Aladdin, knowing that their task was vain, bade them 
 undo their work and carry the jewels back, and the genie fin- 
 ished the window at his command. The Sultan was surprised 
 to receive his jewels again and visited Aladdin, who showed 
 him the window finished. The Sultan embraced him, the en- 
 vious vizir meanwhile hinting that it was the work of en- 
 chantment. 
 
 Aladdin had won the hearts of the people by his gentle 
 bearing. He was made captain of the Sultan's armies, and 
 won several battles for him, but remained modest and courteous 
 as before, and lived thus in peace and content for several years. 
 
 But far away in Africa the magician remembered Aladdin, 
 and by his magic arts discovered that Aladdin, instead of per- 
 ishing miserably in the cave, had escaped, and had married a 
 princess, with whom he was living in great honor and wealth. 
 He knew that the poor tailor's son could only have accom- 
 plished this by means of the lamp, and travelled night and day 
 till he reached the capital of China, bent on Aladdin's ruin.
 
 144 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 As he passed tlirough the town he heard people talking every- 
 where about a marvellous palace. 
 
 " Forgive my ignorance," he asked, " what is this palace 
 you speak of ? " 
 
 " Have you not heard of Prince Aladdin's palace," was the 
 reply, "the greatest wonder of the world? I will direct you 
 if you have a mind to see it." 
 
 The magician thanked him who spoke, and having seen the 
 palace knew that it had been raised by the genie of the lamp, 
 and became half mad with rage. He determined to get hold 
 of the lamp, and again plunge Aladdin into the deepest poverty. 
 
 Unluckily, Aladdin had gone a-hunting for eight days, which 
 gave the magician plenty of time. He bought a dozen copper 
 lamps, put them into a basket, and went to the palace, crying: 
 " New lamps for old! " followed by a jeering crowd. 
 
 The princess, sitting in the hall of four-and-twenty windows, 
 sent a slave to find out what the noise was about, who came 
 back laughing, so that the princess scolded her. 
 
 ** Madam," replied the slave, " who can help laughing to see 
 an old fool offering to exchange fine new lamps for old ones ? " 
 
 Another slave, hearing this, said : " There is an old one on 
 the cornice there which he can have." 
 
 Now this was the magic lamp, which Aladdin had left there, 
 as he could not take it out hunting with him. The princess, 
 not knowing its value, laughingly bade the slave take it and 
 make the exchange. 
 
 She went and said to the magician : " Give me a new lamp 
 for this." 
 
 He snatched it and bade the slave take her choice, amid the 
 jeers of the crowd. Little he cared, but left off crying his 
 lamps, and went out of the city gates to a lonely place, where 
 he remained till nightfall, when he pulled out the lamp and 
 rubbed it. The genie appeared, and at the magician's com- 
 mand carried him, together with the palace and the princess 
 in it, to a lonely place in Africa. 
 
 Next morning the Sultan looked out of the window towards 
 Aladdin's palace and rubbed his eyes, for it was gone. He 
 sent for the vizir, and asked what had become of the palace. 
 The vizir looked out too, and was lost in astonishment. He 
 again put it down to enchantment, and this time the Sultan 
 believed him, and sent thirty men on horseback to fetch Alad-
 
 ALADDIN'S WONDERFUL LAMP 
 
 145 
 
 din in chains. They met him riding home, bound him, and 
 forced him to go with them on foot. The people, however, 
 who loved him, followed, armed, to see that he came to no 
 harm. He was carried before the Sultan, who ordered the 
 executioner to cut off his head. The executioner made Alad- 
 din kneel down, bandaged his eyes, and raised his scimitar to 
 strike. At that instant the vizir, who saw that the crowd had 
 forced their way into the courtyard and were scaling the walls 
 to rescue Aladdin, called to the executioner to stay his hand. 
 The people, indeed, looked so threatening that the Sultan gave 
 way and ordered Aladdin to be unbound, and pardoned him 
 in the sight of the crowd. 
 
 Aladdin now begged to know what he had done. 
 
 " False wretch ! " said the Sultan, " come hither," and showed 
 him from the window the place where his palace had stood. 
 
 Aladdin was so amazed that he could not say a word. ' 
 
 " Where is my palace and my daughter ? " demanded the 
 Sultan. " For the first I am not so deeply concerned, but my 
 daughter I must have, and you must find her or lose your 
 head." 
 
 Aladdin begged for forty days in which to find her, prom- 
 ising if he failed, to return and suffer death at the Sultan's 
 pleasure. His prayer was granted, and he went forth sadly 
 from the Sultan's presence. For three days he wandered about 
 like a madman, asking everyone what had become of his palace, 
 but they only laughed and pitied him. He came to the banks 
 of a river, and knelt down to say his prayers before throwing 
 himself in. In so doing he rubbed the magic ring he still wore. 
 
 The genie he had seen in the cave appeared, and asked his 
 will. 
 
 " Save my life, genie," said Aladdin, " and bring my palace 
 back." 
 
 " That is not in my power," said the genie ; " I am only the 
 Slave of the Ring; you must ask the Slave of the Lamp." 
 
 " Even so," said Aladdin, " but thou canst take me to the 
 palace, and set me down under my dear wife's window." He 
 at once found himself in Africa, under the window of the 
 princess, and fell asleep out of sheer weariness. 
 
 He was awakened by the singing of the birds, and his heart 
 was lighter. He saw plainly that all his misfortunes were 
 Vol. IVa. — 10
 
 146 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 owing to the loss of the lamp, and vainly wondered who had 
 robbed him of it. 
 
 That morning the princess rose earlier than she had done 
 since she had been carried into Africa by the magician, whose 
 company she was forced to endure once a day. She, how- 
 ever, treated him so harshly that he dared not live there alto- 
 gether. As she was dressing, one of her women looked out 
 and saw Aladdin. The princess ran and opened the window, 
 and at the noise she made Aladdin looked up. She called to 
 him to come to her, and great was the joy of these lovers at 
 seeing each other again. 
 
 After he had kissed her Aladdin said : " I beg of you. 
 Princess, in God's name, before we speak of anything else, 
 for your own sake and mine, tell me what has become of an 
 old lamp I left on the cornice in the hall of four-and-twenty 
 Vvdndows, when I went a-hunting." 
 
 " Alas ! " she said, " I am the innocent cause of our sor- 
 rows," and told him of the exchange of the lamp. 
 
 " Now I know," cried Aladdin, " that we have to thank the 
 African magician for this ! Where is the lamp ? " 
 
 " He carries it about with him," said the princess, " I know, 
 for he pulled it out of his breast to show me. He wishes me 
 to break my faith with you and marry him, saying that you 
 were beheaded by my father's command. He is forever speak- 
 ing ill of you, but I only reply by my tears. If I persist, I 
 doubt not that he will use violence." 
 
 Aladdin comforted her, and left her for awhile. He changed 
 clothes with the first person he met in the town, and having 
 bought a certain powder returned to the princess, who let him 
 in by a little side door. 
 
 " Put on your most beautiful dress," he said to her, " and 
 receive the magician with smiles, leading him to believe that 
 you have forgotten me. Invite him to sup with you, and say 
 you wish to taste the wine of his country. He will go for 
 some, and while he is gone I will tell you what to do." 
 
 She listened carefully to Aladdin, and when he left her ar- 
 rayed herself gayly for the first time since she left China. She 
 put on a girdle and head-dress of diamonds, and seeing in a 
 glass that she looked more beautiful than ever, received the 
 magician, saying to his great amazement : " I have made up 
 my mind that Aladdin is dead, and that all my tears will not
 
 ALADDIN'S WONDERFUL LAMP 147 
 
 bring him back to me, so I am resolved to mourn no more, 
 and have therefore invited you to sup with me ; but I am tired 
 of the wines of China, and would fain taste those of Africa." 
 
 The magician flew to his cellar, and the princess put the 
 powder Aladdin had given her in her cup. When he returned 
 she asked him to drink her health in the wine of Africa, hand- 
 ing him her cup in exchange for his as a sign she was recon- 
 ciled to him. 
 
 Before drinking the magician made her a speech in praise 
 of her beauty, but the princess cut him short, saying: — 
 
 " Let me drink first, and you shall say what you will after- 
 wards." She set her cup to her lips and kept it there, while 
 the magician drained his to the dregs and fell back lifeless. 
 
 The princess then opened the door to Aladdin, and flung 
 her arms round his neck, but Aladdin put her away, bidding 
 her to leave him, as he had more to do. He then went to the 
 dead magician, took the lamp out of his vest, and bade the 
 genie carry the palace and all in it back to China. This was 
 done, and the princess in her chamber only felt two little 
 shocks, and little thought she was at home again. 
 
 The Sultan, who was sitting in his closet, mourning for his 
 lost daughter, happened to look up, and rubbed his eyes, for 
 there stood the palace as before ! He hastened thither, and 
 Aladdin received him in the hall of the four-and-twenty win- 
 dows, with the princess at his side. Aladdin told him what 
 had happened, and showed him the dead body of the magician, 
 that he might believe. A ten days' feast was proclaimed, and 
 it seemed as if Aladdin might now hve the rest of his life in 
 peace ; but it was not to be. 
 
 The African magician had a younger brother, who was, if 
 possible, more wicked and more cunning than himself. He 
 travelled to China to avenge his brother's death, and went to 
 visit a pious woman called Fatima, thinking she might be of 
 use to him. He entered her cell and clapped a dagger to her 
 breast, telling her to rise and do his bidding on pain of death. 
 He changed clothes with her, colored his face like hers, put 
 on her veil and murdered her, so that she might tell no tales. 
 Then he went towards the palace of Aladdin, and all the peo- 
 ple thinking he was the holy woman, gathered round him, kiss- 
 ing his hands and begging his blessing. When he got to the
 
 148 ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 palace there was such a noise going on round him that the 
 princess bade her slave look out of the window and ask what 
 was the matter. The slave said it was the holy woman, cur- 
 ing people by her touch of their ailments, whereupon the 
 princess, who had long desired to see Fatima, sent for her. 
 On coming to the princess the magician offered up a prayer 
 for her health and prosperity. When he had done the princess 
 made him sit by her, and begged him to stay with her always. 
 The false Fatima, who wished for nothing better, consented, 
 but kept his veil down for fear of discovery. The princess 
 showed him the hall, and asked him what he thought of it. 
 
 " It is truly beautiful," said the false Fatima. " In my mind 
 it wants but one thing." 
 
 "And what is that?" said the princess. 
 
 " If only a roc's &gg," replied he, " were hung up from the 
 middle of this dome, it would be the wonder of the world." 
 
 After this the princess could think of nothing but a roc's 
 tgg, and when Aladdin returned from hunting he found her 
 in a very ill humor. He begged to know what was amiss, and 
 she told him that all her pleasure in the hall was spoilt for the 
 want of a roc's ^gg hanging from the dome. 
 
 " If that is all," replied Aladdin, " you shall soon be happy." 
 
 He left her and rubbed the lamp, and when the genie ap- 
 peared commanded him to bring a roc's Qgg. The genie gave 
 such a loud and terrible shriek that the hall shook. 
 
 " Wretch ! " he said, " is it not enough that I have done 
 everything for you, but you must command me to bring my 
 master and hang him up in the midst of this dome? You and 
 your wife and your palace deserve to be burnt to ashes; but 
 this request does not come from you, but from the brother of 
 the African magician whom you destroyed. He is now in your 
 palace disguised as the holy woman — whom he murdered. He 
 it was who put that wish into your wife's head. Take care 
 of yourself, for he means to kill you." So saying the genie 
 disappeared. 
 
 Aladdin went back to the princess, saying his head ached, 
 and requesting that the holy Fatima should be fetched to lay 
 her hands on it. But when the magician came near, Aladdin, 
 seizing his dagger, pierced him to the heart. 
 
 " What have you done ? " cried the princess. " You have 
 killed the holy woman ! "
 
 ALADDIN'S WONDERFUL LAMP 
 
 149 
 
 " Not SO," replied Aladdin, " but a wicked magician," and 
 told her of how she had been deceived. 
 
 After this Aladdin and his wife lived in peace. He suc- 
 ceeded the Sultan when he died, and reigned for many years, 
 leaving behind him a long line of kings.
 
 f^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 A
 
 jo-v '<r 
 
 ^^\\t•UN^vtRv^ 
 
 ^'0-. 
 
 "^^iMm-iQV^ 
 
 ^% 
 
 
 ^\'\F.IIs.'l\7FPr/>, 
 
 1^, 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 Los Angeles 
 , ^^ ^^.^.. ^ This book is DUE on the last d^te stamped below. 
 
 
 A^lLIBRARYQr 
 ^OFCALIFO/?^^ 
 
 
 0£Co 91992 
 
 CCT 
 
 ,v:insAs'r.Fi/:.r., 
 
 4WKfEB2 5I^ 
 
 '""MAR21 1995 
 WKMAY0 3 1935 
 
 ■-.v^.v*' 
 
 992 
 
 l-3WV^ '^^Or 
 
 v: 
 
 ^<?a; 
 
 %. 
 
 ^OJITVJJO'^'' 
 
 .#
 
 ms//j 
 
 'A- 
 
 SOI- 
 
 '■ii. 
 
 cV^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^3Air 
 
 3 1158 01069 5418 
 
 o 
 
 
 = <_3 
 
 ^JJO^ 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 AA 001 272 064 5 
 
 \mi^y 
 
 ft! - 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 IFO/?^ 
 
 
 ^ g 
 
 \v\FrMvrrv;'. 
 
 VERV/, 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 ^// 
 
 ^lOSA 
 
 2 S y*'*''**^