Kalila And Dimna

Or

The Fables Of Bidpaï.

Translated From The Arabic

By The

Rev. Wyndham Knatchbull, A.M.

Fellow Of All Souls College, Oxford, And Rector Of Westbere In The County Of Kent.

Oxford,

Printed By W. Baxter,

For J. Parker; And Messrs. Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, And Brown, London.

1819

To

Brook Taylor, Esq.

His Majesty’s Envoy Extraordinary And Minister Plenipotentiary At The Court Of Wurtemberg.

This small volume was begun and finished whilst I was residing abroad, in a situation near your person, which your partiality and friendship procured for me: I have therefore taken the liberty of prefixing your name to a work, which will ever be associated in my recollection with a grateful sense of the kindness I experienced from you during the years which we passed together on the continent.

Wyndham Knatchbull.

All Souls, December, 1818.

Preface.

M. Silvestre De Sacy published in Paris in 1816, after a laborious collation of different manuscripts, the Arabic text of the very remarkable work, known by the name of Kalila and Dimna, or the Fables of Bidpaï; whose appearance in print is calculated to render important services not only to the study of the Arabic tongue, but to any researches which may be connected with the literary history of the Eastern nations.

In offering to the public an English translation of this invaluable production, which may be placed by the side of the most renowned treasures of oriental literature, of which our libraries are in possession, I have thought it possible to open a source of considerable amusement, if not of great intellectual enjoyment, to persons who are strangers to the languages of the East; the present publication therefore being professedly undertaken with a view to the gratification of the English reader, I shall content myself here with a few cursory remarks.

It has been somewhere observed by a very elegant writer, Mr. Dugald Stewart, (if I mistake not in his Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind,) that the effect of a literal translation of a work of genius is like that of the figures which we see when we look at the wrong side of a beautiful piece of tapestry. It will not then, I trust, be attributed to laziness or caprice, or be regarded as a defect in the performance, if with the intention of doing all the justice in my power to the innumerable beauties of my model, I have allowed myself in the translation a certain range and freedom of expression, wherever too close an imitation would have been in some passages offensive to a modern ear, in others displeasing and unsatisfactory, and have given to the whole composition a tone very little corresponding with the idiom and resources of the English language. And though in many instances it would have been impossible to express the sententious brevity of the Arabic with strict fidelity, without betraying a great want of skill in the use of my materials, and sacrificing to a pretension to verbal accuracy and precision every consideration of taste; still it has been my endeavour to make the features of resemblance between the original and the translation sufficiently striking, not to be accused of having forgotten the duties of a translator.

It would be foreign to my plan to enter upon any discussion of the various questions to which this ancient work has at different times given rise in the learned world; I beg leave to refer the reader, who desires to know all that can be said on this head, to the dissertation prefixed to the Arabic text by M. de Sacy: and I shall conclude this short preface by subjoining the Table of Contents, which in the original is to be found at the end of the third chapter.

Chap. I. Preface of Ali the son of Alschah Farési.

Chap. II. The mission of Barzouyéh to India in search of the Book called Kalila and Dimna.

Chap. III. The subject-matter of the Book of Kalila and Dimna, from the pen of Almokaffa.

Chap. IV. The History of Barzouyéh the Physician, composed by Buzurdjmihr the son of Bakhtegan.

Chap. V. The Lion and the Bull, or the emblem of two friends whom a liar contrives to disunite.

Chap. VI. Investigation of the conduct together with the defence of Dimna.

Chap. VII. The Ring-dove, or the emblem of sincere friends.

Chap. VIII. The Owls and the Crows, or the danger of being deceived by an enemy.

Chap. IX. The Monkey and the Tortoise, or the emblem of a person who having obtained what he wanted loses it again.

Chap. X. The Monk and the Weasel, or the danger of haste in an affair with which we are but imperfectly acquainted.

Chap. XI. The Rat and the Cat, or the emblem of a person who has a great many enemies.

Chap. XII. The King and the Bird, or the emblem of revengeful persons who are unworthy of trust.

Chap. XIII. The Lion and the Jackal, or the emblem of a man who wishes to be reconciled with one whom he has ill treated.

Chap. XIV. The History of Iladh, Beladh, Irakht, and the wise Kibarioun.

Chap. XV. The Lioness and the Horseman, or the emblem of a man who abstains from injuring another on account of the evil consequences to himself.

Chap. XVI. The Monk and his Guest, or the emblem of a man who forsakes one condition of life in order to embrace another.

Chap. XVII. The Traveller and the Goldsmith, or the emblem of a man who bestows his favours on an unworthy object.

Chap. XVIII. The King’s Son and his Companions, or the emblem of fate and of the inevitable consequences of the divine decrees.

All Souls, December, 1818.

Preface of Ali the son of Alschah Farési.

Alexander, having overcome the kings of the West, turned his arms towards the East, where, after a series of military operations, he either conquered at the head of his troops the sovereigns of Persia and of the neighbouring; countries who had resisted him, or received the submission of those who were unwilling to risk the issue of a battle.

Afterwards directing his course towards China, he in his march summoned Four, at that time king of India, and renowned for his wisdom and great power, to declare himself his vassal; but Four on the contrary made immediate preparations for resistance, with the fixed determination to prevent if possible the loss of his crown. He assembled the flower of his nobility, and a number of elephants and horses that had been trained to war, and made the necessary dispositions for placing on foot a formidable force of cavalry and infantry. When the news of the preparations which Four had made reached Alexander, who till then had experienced little or no opposition from the kings of the countries through which he had passed, he was afraid that some sudden check or defeat might tarnish the glory of his arms, if he advanced with too much precipitation and haste; he therefore determined to call to his aid the experience which he had acquired, and to employ stratagem to secure his success. For this purpose he began by ordering an intrenchment to be formed round his camp, that might secure him from any attack whilst he was concerting measures for his future operations, and gave directions to the astrologers to assemble and choose the most favourable day for carrying his ulterior plans into execution: in the mean time he ordered the artificers in his train, many of whom he had taken from the different cities on his march, to make hollow figures of brass, representing horses and men, caparisoned and equipped in a manner to give them the appearance of regular cavalry, and to be filled with naphtha and sulphur, and placed in front of his line, intending that the combustible materials should at the very commencement of the battle be set on fire. The artificers used all possible diligence in finishing their work; which being accomplished, Alexander sent a second summons to Four, which was answered by the same tone of defiance, and continued preparations for resistance; and accordingly the dispositions were made in the respective armies to commence the attack. Four had placed his elephants in the front rank, which, advancing to meet the figures of brass which were simultaneously pushed on, no sooner touched them with their trunks, than, being rendered furious by the heat, they threw down those who were upon their backs, and then suddenly turning round, took to flight, and trod under their feet and crushed all they met. In this manner the army of Four was thrown into the greatest disorder; and Alexander, whilst he was pursuing the fugitives at the head of his men, cried out, O king of India, have compassion upon your army, and do not expose it to inevitable destruction; for it is cowardly in a sovereign to sacrifice his troops unnecessarily, when it is in his power by risking his own person to save them from annihilation; therefore come forth, and let us decide by single combat to whom the victory belongs. Four did not hesitate a moment to accept the challenge, and the two champions advanced towards each other; and the fight began, and was continued during the greatest part of the day, without any visible advantage on either side, each putting in practice all the skill that he possessed, to get the better of his antagonist. At length Alexander, being wearied by the exertions which he had made, almost despaired of success, when on a sudden his army, which had received his orders to that effect, raised a loud cry, which Four supposing to be an attack upon his camp, which had been taken by surprise, turned round to convince himself of the cause of the noise which had alarmed him; and Alexander, taking advantage of the, moment when he was off his guard, struck him a blow, which made him fall from his horse, and with a second laid him dead at his feet.

The Indian army, exasperated by what had happened to their king, renewed the combat, with a determination to perish nobly in the struggle; but finding at length all resistance to be ineffectual, they accepted the terms which the conqueror offered them: upon which Alexander took possession of the country, and having established a government conformable to his views of aggrandisement, and the conditions which he had accorded to the vanquished, he placed it in the hands of one of his officers on whom he could depend, and whom he invested with sovereign authority in the room of Four, and he set out on the execution of the other plans of conquest which he had formed. But he had scarcely withdrawn his troops, when the people of the country, growing impatient under the weight of the yoke which he had imposed upon them, determined to shake off all obedience to the viceroy whom he had appointed, regarding it both as dishonourable, and an insufferable hardship, to be obliged to submit to the authority of a stranger, who showed by his humiliating and contemptuous treatment of them how little he was interested in their welfare and prosperity: they therefore deposed him, and chose for their sovereign a descendant of their ancient kings, whose name was Dabschelim. Now Dabschelim, as soon as he felt that his power was firmly established, and that fortune seemed to have chosen him for her favourite, threw off the mask with which be had for some time concealed his real character, and abandoned himself to every kind of excess and enormity. He made hostile and unprovoked incursions into the territories of the neighbouring princes, whilst his own subjects experienced the caprices and injustice of the most arbitrary and insolent behaviour; and notwithstanding the hardships to which every class of the people was exposed from his course of life, and the manifest injury which was done to the real interests of the nation, any increase of good fortune or any successful enterprise only offered an additional incitement to acts of oppressive and tyrannical power.

It happened that during this period there was amongst the Brahmins a philosopher named Bidpaï, a man of so distinguished a reputation for wisdom, that his opinion was asked in all matters of great difficulty. Bidpaï, after he had been a long time a silent witness of the despotic government of the king, formed a resolution to endeavour to draw him off from the course he was pursuing, to sentiments of moderation and justice. For this purpose he assembled his disciples, and spoke to them in the following terms: I have been long reflecting on the continued bad conduct of Dabschelim, which is a source of so much oppression and hardship to his subjects, and wish to consult you on the expediency of taking some measures, which may put a stop to the evil. If at any time we, who bear the name of philosophers, appear to shut our eyes to the faults of sovereigns, it is with a view of watching for a favourable opportunity of leading them back into the path of honour and virtue: and if we fail, or are remiss in this essential point of our duty, we expose ourselves to unpleasant consequences from our easy compliance, and to the risk of being taxed by foolish men with exhibiting in our conduct a greater degree of folly than themselves. I do not therefore think it advisable for us to leave the country, and abandon the king to the uncontrolled sway of his evil and vicious propensities, for this would cast suspicions upon our wisdom; at the same time I am aware, that it will be impossible for us to reckon upon any assistance which we may be able to procure from others, and to oppose him by open force, or to rely upon any thing but our remonstrances for success; for the first symptoms which he perceives in us of any resistance to his will and authority would, notwithstanding the reputation which we enjoy in the country, be as certainly destructive to us, as the enmity of ferocious beast or venomous reptiles to those who are near them; and it is the duty of a philosopher to have a regard to his own preservation, in taking precautions against the occurrence of events which may be attended with danger to his personal safety: and I have heard it repeated of a certain philosopher, that in the instructions which he gave to his pupils, he compared the situation of a man, who is compelled to associate with persons of bad character, to that of a sailor, who, though in no danger of drowning, is still never free from the perils of the ocean; and the philosopher who increases the difficulties of the situation into which he may have been thrown, by courting the dangers which it was in his power to avoid, is inferior in sagacity to the irrational animals, whose instinct warns them of any impending ill, and directs them unerringly to the preservation of their lives. I was therefore desirous of consulting you on the present occasion, thinking that I could not do better in so weighty an affair than seek the advice and aid of persons, with whom I am united by ties of affinity as well as by the intimacy which baa sprung up from the relations in which we stand to each other; for the sensible man, foreseeing the inconvenience of relying solely on his own resources, often accomplishes by the judicious and artful combination of the multiplied materials which he employs, what he never could have brought to pass by more violent means. The truth of this maxim is exemplified in the conduct of the lark, who had made her nest in the road, which an elephant was in the habit of passing when he went to drink. The elephant, going one day as usual to quench his thirst, trod upon the nest of the lark, and broke the eggs, and destroyed the unhatched young ones which they contained; upon which the lark, who had no doubt by whom the injury had been done, mounted up into the air, and, hovering over the head of the elephant, cried out in a lamentable tone, O king, is it out of contempt, and the little respect which you entertain for your neighbour, that you have broken my eggs, and destroyed my unhatched brood? which the elephant acknowledging to be the case, she flew away, and went to the assembly of the birds, and complained to them of the injustice of which the elephant had been guilty; but they excused their refusal to interfere in her favour, by alleging their inability to contend with the elephant.

Upon this the lark addressed herself more particularly to the magpies and crows, and engaged them to peck out the eyes of the elephant, whilst she was preparing another snare for him; and the magpies and the crows continued striking the elephant’s eyes with their beaks, till they had entirely destroyed them, and he was left without the means of finding his way to the pastures, where he was in the habit of feeding, and was forced to content himself with the scanty nourishment which he could pick up from the place where he was. When the lark was informed of this, she went to a pond, where there were a great many frogs, and made similar complaints of the conduct of the elephant; and they asked her, how it was possible for them to assist her against so powerful an enemy? She said to them, I beg of you, to have the goodness to accompany me to a large pit, which is near the spot where the elephant is, and to go down into it, and croak; and the elephant, when he hears the noise, will fancy that there is water there, and, advancing towards the sound, will fall into the pit, and perish. The frogs complied with the request of the lark, and every thing happened to the elephant as she had foretold: then, fluttering over his head as he lay in agonies below her, she said, O tyrant, thou art deceived in the opinion which thou hadst formed of thy power and strength; and the inferiority of my size compared with thine has disappeared before the cunning contrivance, which has defeated thy sagacity.

Then Bidpaï desired each of his disciples to declare what he thought best to be done. It would be presumption in us, they replied, to place our intelligence and judgment on a level with yours; at the same time we may be allowed to remark, without any disparagement of your superiority in wisdom, that he who ventures into the river where the crocodile is, is himself the cause of the inevitable destruction which awaits him, and that the serpent cannot be said to have occasioned the death of the man, who has extracted the poison from its tooth, and voluntarily swallowed it in order to try its effects; nor would it be more dangerous to approach a lion in his den, than it will be to make any bold representations to the king, who has never had the benefit of any lessons of experience dearly bought, to moderate the mischievous violence and impetuosity of his disposition. Your apprehensions are by no means unfounded, answered Bidpaï, and your suggestions, are reasonable; they fully justify the recourse which I have had to you in the present circumstances, and are a strong confirmation of the obvious advantages of calling the intellectual resources of different individuals, whatever be their rank in life, in aid of our private opinion. My determination however is not weakened by the arguments you have advanced, supported as they are by the fears which you have expressed for my safety; I therefore beg of you to meet me again as soon as my audience with the king is over, that I may communicate to you the result of my conversation with him.

Then Bidpaï took leave of his disciples; and on the day which he had chosen for the purpose, he put on his dress, which was such as the Brahmins always wore, and went to court, and solicited an audience of the king, under pretence of having some important communication to make: and this being reported to the king, orders were given to admit Bidpaï; who, being introduced, bowed respectfully to the king; but remained silent. Dabschelim was surprised, and said, This man is certainly come for one of two things; either for the purpose of asking some favour, or else to implore my protection in some matter in which he is concerned. Now a wise man has a more excellent treasure in the gift of wisdom, than a king in the possession of sovereign authority; for a wise man can supply the want of royal favour by the resources of his own mind, whereas riches afford no compensation to a sovereign for the loss of services which wise counsellors are able to render to a state: and I have remarked, that knowledge and modesty are always found together, that neither can exist without the other; they may be compared to two sincere friends, so inseparable in sentiment and affection, that the interruption of their union leaves life without a charm, to make it supportable; and whoever is wanting in the respect which should be shown to persons distinguished for wisdom, and is remiss in paying the homage which is due to their superior merits, by withholding from them his protection, and degrading them below the level of their just pretensions, is not only guilty of the injustice of robbing them of that to which they have a claim, but has to answer for the folly of neglecting his own interest. Then addressing himself to Bidpaï, he said, In endeavouring to account to myself for the reason of your continued silence, which has prevented my becoming acquainted with the purpose that has brought you hither, and which is no doubt of an extraordinary nature, I thought it might possibly be attributed to the fearful embarrassment which my presence has occasioned; I therefore determined to demand an explanation of your motives for coming to me, feeling that I am the most proper person to relieve you from any difficulty into which you may have fallen, or to take you by the hand and promote your views, if they are directed to any object of temporal advantage; at the same time I resolved to punish any culpable interference, however improbable your known character may render such an act, in what is exclusively matter for the knowledge and decision of kings; at the same time not intending to forbid your interesting yourself in behalf of my people, because the recommendation of a sensible man cannot be otherwise than judicious. I therefore grant you entire freedom of speech.

Bidpaï, having received these assurances from the king, felt his courage revive, and spoke as follows; May heaven pour down its blessings upon the king, and preserve his kingdom to the end of time; he has been gracious and bountiful to me, in allowing me to appear before him in the character of a faithful and honest counsellor; and whether the impression, which my words may make upon his mind, be lasting or not, I shall still enjoy the satisfaction of having discharged the duty which my situation imposes upon me. Tell me, said the king, all that you have to say, for I promise to listen to you with patience, and reward you as you deserve. A man, continued Bidpaï, is distinguished from the beasts by four qualities, wisdom, temperance, understanding, and justice. Knowledge, urbanity, and considerateness, form essential parts of wisdom. Clemency, patience, and firmness, belong to understanding. Modesty, nobleness, inclination, and aversion, are under the control of temperance. Sincerity, goodness, piety, and the amiable affections, are inseparable from justice; and when a person is in full possession of these bright qualities, neither the excess of good fortune is capable of betraying him into any wayward and perverse measures, which will throw him into trouble and disappointment, nor does he wantonly indulge in complaints against Providence for every slight interruption which is offered to his enjoyments. The decrees of fate do not discompose the serenity of his looks, nor a sudden reverse disturb his peace of mind; his wisdom is a treasure which cannot be diminished by expenditure, it is an imperishable store under the pressure of poverty and want, it is a robe, which does not lose by use the appearance of being new, and whose intrinsic worth remains always unimpaired, and it becomes a pleasure of unlimited duration. If I have hitherto refrained, notwithstanding the post which I fill, of freely declaring my sentiments to the king, it has been owing to the respect and reverence which are due to sovereigns, especially to one raised so high in rank and power above all who have gone before him, and in conformity with the precepts in which the sages of old have handed down to us the advantages of silence; but the moment is now arrived, in which I may take the liberty of pursuing a different course.

Four wise men, being once met together at the command of a certain king, were desired each of them to propose some instructive maxim. The first said, the most excellent property of knowledge is silence: the second, that the most profitable thing for a man is to know his own worth: the third gave as his opinion, that a person should not allow his words to admit of a wider interpretation than he intended them to bear: and the fourth declared, that nothing afforded so much tranquillity to the mind as submission to destiny. On another occasion the four kings of China, India, Persia, and Greece, being together, agreed each of them to deliver a saying, which might be recorded to their honour in after ages. The king of China said, I have more power over what I have not spoken, than I have to recall what has once passed my lips. The king of India, I have been often struck with the risk of speaking; for if a man is heard in his own praise, it is an unprofitable boasting, and what he says to his own discredit is injurious in its consequences. The king of Persia, I am the slave of what I have spoken, but the master of what I conceal. The king of Greece, I have never regretted the silence which I had imposed upon myself, though I have often repented of the words I have uttered, for silence is attended with advantage to a sovereign, whereas loquacity is often followed by incurable evils. Now the tongue of man is one of the most active instruments of his ruin; it is however fit that I should obey the commands of the king, and make use of the permission he has granted me; therefore, conformably to the objects which I have in view, I will begin by declaring, that it is my sincere wish and prayer, that every prospect of private advantage may disappear before the interests of the king, which, connected with his hopes in a future life, I have principally at heart, my views with regard to myself being confined to the discharge of an indispensable duty.

You, O king, are in the full enjoyment of the dignities of your ancestors, those great men who laid the foundation of the monarchy, and increased its splendour by national establishments and the victories of their arms, and who, in spite of the seductive charms of sovereign authority and the intoxicating nature of power, have perpetuated their name, which is still fresh in the memory of their posterity, by good works, and an equitable and mild government. You, O king, were born to be the heir of their high renown, as well as of the countries and wealth which their valour won and their prudence secured; but you have stopped short in the path in which you were advancing towards the summit of glory, and have sullied the good name which was your inheritance, by acts of oppression and injustice towards your subjects, and by a course of life which has brought distress and misery upon the nation; whereas it was your duty to follow the example which has been set you, by avoiding the disgraceful conduct of which you have been guilty, and giving your people a system of laws, which might go down to after ages in company with the praises of a sovereign, who sought the recompense of his virtues in the memorial which they would leave behind them. A king is deceived in the expectations which he forms from the exercise of arbitrary power; for a mild and gentle government is alone consistent with the dictates of prudence and good sense. Lay to heart therefore, O king, the advice which I offer you in my exhortations to amendment, not with any views of private interest, or in hopes of reward, but with the purest intentions, and that regard to your honour, which will, I trust, disarm your ill will and displeasure.

Bidpaï had no sooner finished speaking, than Dabschelim, unable to withhold the expression of his anger, said to him, I could not have supposed that any one of my subjects would have ventured to address me in the terms which you have used, and have united so much audacity with such inconsiderable powers. I cannot sufficiently wonder at the haughty and presumptuous tone which you have assumed, and think it necessary to make you an example for the admonition of others who may hereafter aspire to the honour which you have abused to your own disgrace. Upon which he commanded that Bidpaï should be put to death; and whilst the persons who were charged with the execution of the order were leading him away, the king reflected on the severity of the punishment which he had pronounced against him, and mitigated it by changing it into a sentence of close imprisonment.

As soon as the news of what had happened to Bidpaï reached his disciples, they dispersed, and concealed themselves in remote parts. And Bidpaï had been some days in prison, and the king had neither made any enquiries about him, nor had any one dared to mention his name; till Dabschelim, one night being unable to sleep, was reflecting on the motion of the heavenly bodies, and the system of the universe, and as he was at a loss to resolve some problem relating to the revolution of the stars, he recollected Bidpaï, and reproached himself with the injustice of which he had been guilty towards him, by obeying the impulse of a sudden fit of passion. The voice of wisdom, said he to himself, has pronounced four things to be disgraceful to kings; anger, which is the most hateful of all passions; avarice, that is not excused by the multitude of its possessions; falsehood, which is a bar to all intimacy and fellowship; and obscene conversation, which is a folly in words that does not become them. There came to me a man, who was no dealer in frivolous discourse, but one capable of giving me good advice; and instead of listening to the lessons of instruction which he would have imparted, and rewarding him as his merits deserved, I resisted his efforts to serve me, and repaid him with ingratitude. He then ordered Bidpaï to be brought to him, and said, Did you not condemn my manner of living, and wish to promote my amendment? Bidpaï: I considered, O just and benevolent king, in the exhortations which I addressed to you, what might conduce to your own safety, and the preservation of your kingdom, as well as to the advantage of your subjects. The king: Then repeat to me the whole of your former discourse. Upon this Bidpaï began to speak, and the king listened to him with the greatest attention; and as often as he was struck with any thing he heard, he made a mark on the ground with something, which he held in his hand: at last he desired him to sit down, and told him, that he approved of every thing he had said, and that it had made a great impression upon his mind. He then commanded his chains to be taken off, and one of his own robes to be put upon him, and declared to him his intention of investing him with unlimited power over his whole kingdom. Bidpaï begged to be released from so weighty a charge, which his unassisted strength was unable to bear; and Dabschelim complied with his request, and dismissed him. But he was scarcely gone from his presence, before he reflected on the impolicy of what he had done, and sent for him again, and said, I have weighed the consequences of accepting your refusal of the post to which I had appointed you, and find it would be attended with so much inconvenience, that I can no longer consent to your opposition to my wishes.

Now it was a custom on the appointment of a vizir, to place a crown on his head, and conduct him on horseback through the city; and this ceremony was observed on the present occasion. And Bidpaï, as soon as he had taken possession of his office, made his administration of the laws to be distinguished by the strictest impartiality; he observed the same conduct towards the peasant and his lord, and dealt out equal justice to the people of every class; and when the account of his elevation reached his disciples, they came to him from the different places of security to which they had retired, returning thanks to heaven for having crowned with success the endeavours of the master, to produce a change of sentiments and conduct in the king, and they appointed a festival to be perpetually observed in commemoration of so signal an event. Now Bidpaï employed the time that was not devoted to the transaction of business with Dabschelim, in composing treatises on government, which, whilst they did justice to his talents, afforded him a relaxation from his more serious occupations; and the king, by following the rules of conduct which had been laid down for him, not only became an object of adoration to his people, but received the submission of the neighbouring princes, who were proud of acknowledging their dependence. After this Bidpaï made handsome presents to his disciples and promised them his protection; and addressing them, said, You thought, no doubt, when you saw me persist in my resolution of going to the king, that my wisdom had forsaken me, and want of reflection was hurrying me on to certain ruin; you are now however convinced, that my plan was neither rashly nor ignorantly formed. It is an old saying, that a king, who is intoxicated with power, is in his conduct little better than a child, and can only be weaned from the error into which he has fallen by the admonition of wise counsellors, whose duty it is to give weight to their exhortations by the firm and dignified language in which they are delivered, and to repair the moral infirmities of the sovereign, by inculcating a respect for the laws of equity and justice; imitating in their conduct the practice of the physician, whose business it is to preserve the body in its sound state, or in case of disease to restore it to health by judicious treatment of his patient. I was unwilling that it should be reported of me, either after my death or that of the king, that I was a contemporary of the tyrant Dabschelim, and did not correct the excesses in which he indulged; with the addition, that fear for my personal safety was no excuse for my silence, because if in danger for my life, it had been always in my power to fly out of the country. The natural repugnance to quit one’s native land, would not allow me for a moment to entertain such a thought; I therefore determined to brave every chance, rather than risk the forfeiture of my reputation with posterity; and you are acquainted with the successful result of my undertaking, which is an illustration of an old saying, that no one arrives at eminence except either by personal danger, by detriment to his fortune, or the hazard of his religion; for difficulties are a condition of all fortunate enterprise. I have now to inform you, that the king has commanded me to compose a work, containing the precepts of true wisdom; I therefore desire each of you to write on whatever subject he pleases, that I may form an estimate of the acquirements and knowledge which you individually possess. His disciples wished to excuse themselves from a task, which would have the appearance of placing their talents and learning in competition with those of their master, the lustre of whose renown reflected upon them the credit which they enjoyed. They however declared their readiness to obey his directions. In the mean time the influence of Bidpaï was very visible in the conduct of the king, who perceiving the good effects of the course he was pursuing, as soon as he found, that by the administration of Bidpaï his power and authority were firmly established in the submission of his enemies, employed himself in reading the ancient histories of his ancestors; and it occurred to him to order an account to be written of his own reign, in which his name might be handed down to posterity with the facts which were recorded: but aware that the services of Bidpaï would be indispensable to the accomplishment of his purpose, he sent for him, and said, I have found, in look-ins: over the treasures of our libraries, that there is no one of my ancestors, whose reign did not form the subject of a work, purporting to be a history of his public and private conduct; in some instances the kings themselves, in others the philosophers by their orders, were the authors of the writings in question: but as I distrust my own capacity for so great an undertaking, and am at the same time unwilling that my name alone should be omitted in the annals of the kingdom, I desire that you would take upon yourself to perform this literary task, and employ the resources of your understanding to compose a work, which professing to embrace only the instruction of the people, may contain useful lessons for the conduct of kings who would secure the obedience and fidelity of their subjects. O king, answered Bidpaï, may nothing obscure the brightness of the star which brings you happiness and power. Your high destiny was marked out by Providence in the character which it imprinted on your mind, and your clear and unbiassed understanding has produced that elevation of soul, which carries the thoughts upwards to the summit of human greatness. May heaven therefore crown with success the efforts which I am ready to employ for the accomplishment of your will. Your punctuality in obeying my commands stands in need of no further proof, answered the king; it is therefore my desire, that in the book which you are about to write, the precepts of morality and the lessons of wisdom should be enlivened by light and amusing fables. Dabschelim then granted Bidpaï at his own request the space of a year for the composition of his work, and set apart the necessary funds; after which Bidpaï having assembled his disciples, communicated to them the orders he had received from the king, and expatiated on the prospect which was opened of honour to themselves, and advantage to the country: but he found at length that it would be useless to rely on their assistance, where the utmost exertion of intellect was required, and where the employment of various and unequal talents would only impede the progress of his labours; in the same manner as the navigation of a ship would be uncertain, if instead of being entrusted to the direction of the pilot and sailors, it should be left to the guidance of the passengers, who happened to be on board: he therefore determined to seek no other aid than what his own intellectual resources might afford him, taking one of his disciples to act as his secretary; and having procured the requisite quantity of materials for writing, and the provisions which would be necessary for their subsistence during the time that had been allotted to him, he retired with his disciple into a small apartment, into which no one else was allowed to enter; and the method that was then adopted was for the disciple to commit to writing what his master dictated, and in this manner the work was finished, consisting of fourteen chapters, each containing a question with its answer, which Bidpaï afterwards collected into one book, and called it the book of Kalila and Dimna, in which tame and wild beasts and birds were introduced as the actors and speakers, by which means amusement and an agreeable occupation were procured for the generality of readers, whilst the better informed found matter for more serious reflection: nothing was omitted which could be of any service to a man in his domestic relations, or was connected with his happiness in this world or the next, or which could excite him to the duty of obedience towards his sovereign. The first chapter described the situation of two friends, who were betrayed by the arts of a treacherous companion; and it was here intended, that Bidpaï should speak in his own person, as the king had desired; but recollecting that wisdom out of the mouth of a philosopher loses its value, when associated with frivolous discourse, he was at a loss how to obviate this inconvenience, and at the same time fulfil the instructions he had received; when it suddenly occurred to him to place his words in the mouths of two animals, whose conversation, though clothed in amusing language, might still be made a channel for conveying the sound precepts which he wished to inculcate; as the only safeguard of intimacy and friendship; intending by this contrivance to satisfy both the taste of the uninformed, as well as to engage the attention and researches of the wise.

At the expiration of the year the king enquired of the philosopher, if he had fulfilled his engagement; and was informed that he had, and that he wished to read what he had written in the presence of the principal people of the kingdom. Therefore the day being come, which the king had fixed for this purpose, he ordered a throne similar to his own to be erected for Bidpaï, and seats to be placed for the rest of the court, and ordered Bidpaï to be sent for; who haying put on the dress which he wore on all occasions, when he was to appear before the king, gave his disciple the book to carry, and accompanied him to the palace; and the king, as soon as he saw him, rose up from his seat, and thanked him in a speech which was intended to express the joy and satisfaction which he felt: he then commanded him to sit down, and to begin to read; and at the end of every chapter asked for an explanation of what he had heard, and was lost in admiration at the enlarged and enlightened views of Bidpaï; upon which he left him the choice of his own reward. I have no occasion for riches, answered Bidpaï, neither for costly robes; but one thing I will beg of the king, that this book may be transcribed like those which your ancestors possessed, and guarded with the most scrupulous care, lest it should be stolen and carried out of the country, and fall into the hands of the Persians. The king gave orders to this effect, and made handsome presents to the disciples of Bidpaï. Now Chosroes Nouschiréwan, during the enquiries which he made after the writings of the ancients, having received information of the book of Kalila and Dimna, became very impatient for its acquisition: for this purpose he sent Barzouyéh the physician on a mission to India, who having got possession of a copy of it by his skill and address, brought it away with him, and deposited it amongst the treasures of the kings of Persia.

The mission of Barzouyéh to India in search of the Book called Kalila and Dimna.

God has created man in his wisdom and mercy, has raised him to excellence and honour, and has put into his power the means of happiness in this world, and of avoiding punishment in the next: but the best gift of God to man is understanding, the source of every thing which is good and profitable, the key to his happiness on earth, and his anchor through the stormy sea of life to conduct him into the haven of a blissful eternity. Understanding is the child of instruction and experience; its seeds lie hidden in the soul of man, and must be called into life by the nurturing hand of discipline and fortified by trial, as the sparks are struck out from the hard flint, before the fire, which lies concealed in the stone, can be produced.

It happened that king Nouschiréwan (on whom the supreme Disposer of all things had bestowed a very large portion of understanding, and that knowledge in affairs which conducts immediately to the object which is in view, and had imparted to him together with the talent of discovering the springs on which events turn, the power of following them up to their remotest results, and thereby raised him to an eminence of learning and philosophical acquirements, which no king before him had ever attained,) in the course of his enquiries into the various branches of science, got information of a book preserved in India, which contained every species of instruction, together with rules of conduct for the profitable employment of the present, and for a confident and happy anticipation, of the future. He therefore commanded his vizir Buzurdjmihr to look out for some clever and able person amongst his subjects, who, possessing a thorough knowledge of the Persian and Indian tongues, was distinguished as much for his eagerness as his ability to acquire instruction. Buzurdjmihr lost no time in obeying the orders of the king, and shortly after found out a physician named Barzouyéh, a man possessing all the necessary qualifications, who being introduced into the presence of Nouschiréwan, was addressed by the king in the following manner: I have chosen you Barzouyéh on account of the reputation which you enjoy for your wisdom and learning, and thirst after knowledge wherever it is to be met with, for a mission to India, for the purpose of getting possession of a book, which, according to the accounts which I have received, is said to be preserved in the library of the king of that country. You will make the best use of your talents and judgment in the prosecution of this undertaking, which will extend also to the acquisition of any other writings hitherto unknown amongst us, constantly bearing in mind the great advantage which your success will procure both to us and yourself; and in order that nothing may be wanting to enable you to fulfil the important charge with which you are entrusted, I have given orders to my treasury to supply you with whatever money you may require for the purposes of this mission. The king then commanded the astrologers to fix an auspicious day for the departure of Barzouyéh, who took with him twenty thousand purses of money, each containing ten thousand dinars, Barzouyéh being at length arrived in India, conducted himself in the most prudent and circumspect manner possible, assuming the appearance of a foreigner who was travelling for improvement. For this purpose he frequented the levees of the king and the meetings of the people, and lost no opportunity of making acquaintance with the principal persons of the court as well as the wise men of the country; at last he began to be received familiarly into their houses, a distinction for which he was indebted to his engaging manners and good breeding; but never losing sight of his assumed character, he pretended on many occasions to receive information on subjects with which he was previously acquainted, and was able so well to conceal the object of his journey, that he established himself on an intimate footing with many of the philosophers as well as persons of every class and profession. Amongst those with whom he habitually associated was one who peculiarly attracted his attention, not only on account of his distinguished character and his disinterested professions of friendship, but principally on account of the claims which he seemed to possess to the most unreserved confidence. He therefore attached himself to this person more than to any other, consulted him on every occasion, and followed his advice in all his difficulties, concealing from him however for the present his real object, till he should have time and opportunity to put his fidelity to the test, and to find out to what extent he might trust him. Now after some time; being convinced that his friend was a man of honour and integrity, and one on whom he could thoroughly rely, he took occasion one day as they were sitting together to confess to him, that he had a further purpose in view in the long journey which he had made, than what he had till now given out to be the reason of his travels, and which had probably not altogether escaped observation, since the man of understanding is able from the outward appearance to penetrate into the secrets of the heart. The Indian assured him that he had always been upon his guard, not to betray the slightest symptoms of suspicion and distrust, not that he was ignorant of the object of his mission, which notwithstanding the veil of mystery which was thrown over it, was easily to be guessed, but from a desire of cultivating his friendship. You are come amongst us, continued he, at the express orders of your sovereign, to get into your possession some of our valuable treasures, and to take them with you into your own country; and though your conduct carries with it the marks of deep contrivance, not without a mixture of deceit and cunning, still however your patience and assiduity in the pursuit of what you are searching after, and your admirable prudence in taking precautions against the discovery of your secret, so that a syllable has on no one occasion escaped your lips that might in any way be interpreted to your disadvantage, had so far prepossessed me in your favour, and given me so high an opinion of your wisdom and understanding, that I became every day more anxious to be better acquainted with you, and was lost in admiration of your zeal and perseverance in a foreign country, and amongst a people with whose manners and customs you are unacquainted. A man of sound understanding is distinguished by eight different qualities; by courteous and affable behaviour, by a knowledge of himself, united with a strict and impartial observation of his own heart; by submission to lawful authority, and an endeavour to conciliate the good will of those who are in power; by great circumspection in his confidential communications; by becoming language and irreproachable conduct at the courts of kings; by secrecy, where his own interest is at stake, and fidelity in his engagements with others; by moderation in his discourse, so that no unpleasant consequence may arise from any hasty or intemperate word; and, lastly, by a prudent reserve and modest diffidence in delivering his opinion: and where these qualities are united in one person, as they are in you, Barzouyéh, they bring down blessings upon the head of him who possesses them. I therefore pray that God would assist you in your present undertaking, that he would conduct you through my means to a fortunate issue of your labours, however injurious your success may prove to the interests of my country, in robbing it of the high prerogative which it has hitherto enjoyed in the paths of science and learning. Barzouyéh confessed to the Indian, that he had already prepared a speech fraught with the subtleties of reasoning and argument, for the purpose of laying open his views in an inoffensive but clear manner, but that his discovery of his secret and the offer of his services had made him alter his intention; that he should therefore on the present occasion do no more than thank him for the generosity of his conduct, and for the proof which he had given, that the breast of a philosopher and of an intelligent and honourable man is as inviolable a depository for even a word told in confidence, as the strength of a citadel is a security for a great treasure. The Indian observed to Barzouyéh, that nothing in the world is more excellent than friendship; that where it is pure, a man should as it were become one with his friend, should be without reserve in his intercourse, even to the communication of his most secret thoughts, which are placed under the safeguard of honour and integrity; he could not however deny, that it might possibly be better never to divulge a secret, since it is difficult to withhold from the knowledge of a third person, what is already known to two, and consequently to prevent its general publicity; and in the end the author of the secret is as unable to deny it, when the means are at hand of tracing it to its source, as any one is to dispute the reality of a cloud which is seen to float in a clear sky. He then informed Barzouyéh, with the strongest assurances of the pleasure which he had received from his intimacy and acquaintance, that in contributing to his success in the object which he had in view, which it would be impossible to keep secret, he should run the risk of inevitable ruin from the severity and harshness of the king, who frequently inflicting a very heavy punishment for a slight offence, would visit with the whole weight of his anger and displeasure so great a crime against the state. Barzouyéh observed to the Indian, that the wise have in all aged praised the man, who faithful to his engagements assists his friend to the utmost of his power; that he relied for support on his good services and disinterested friendship; and that the apprehensions which he entertained of danger to himself and family, if the king should become acquainted with what had passed between them, ought to be removed, when he recollected that their intercourse would be of no long duration, and that his return to his native country would prevent all publicity of their proceedings, which would be only known to themselves. This argument had weight with the Indian, and he immediately procured for Barzouyéh the book of which he was principally in search, as well as others of great value, who spared no pains either of body or mind, labouring night and day for the purpose of translating them from the Hindoo into the Persian language, as he was afraid, that the king of India might possibly ask for the books before his task was finished, and if he should find that they were missing from his library, that his plan would be discovered and frustrated. At length having finished his work, he wrote to Nouschiréwan to inform him of it, and the king commanded him to hasten his departure as quickly as possible out of the country of India, lest any accident might arrive to disturb the joy which was felt at the success of his enterprise. Barzouyéh lost no time in obeying the orders of the king, who upon the arrival of his minister observing the great alteration which had taken place in him from excess of fatigue, promised him that he should reap the fruit of his toils in the honour and distinction to which he would raise him, and desired him in the mean time to repose himself during the space of seven days. On the seventh day the king commanded the Emirs and the learned men of his kingdom to appear before him; and when they were all assembled in his presence, he ordered Barzouyéh to read aloud the contents of the book; and the persons who were present were so struck at the profound lessons of knowledge which it contained, that they could not withhold the expressions of their joy, but thanked God for his bounty and mercy, testifying their gratitude to Barzouyéh for the great service which he had rendered to his sovereign and country. And the king commanded that precious stones of every sort, forming the riches of his kingdom, together with the money in his treasury and the most valuable dresses, should be placed before Barzouyéh, and he desired him to take of them what he chose; and addressing him he said, I command you, O Barzouyéh, to sit upon a throne like mine, and to put on a crown, and I exalt you in dignity above all the nobles of the kingdom. Then Barzouyéh humbled himself before the king, and called down blessings upon the head of his royal benefactor, in this world and the next; and said, I have no occasion for the reward which God offers me by the hands of my sovereign; but since it is the will of the king, I will choose something in obedience to his orders. So he went to the royal wardrobe, and took a very rich robe of Chorasan, such as the kings were in the habit of wearing. Then Barzouyéh prayed a second time for the glory and happiness of the king, declaring that gratitude was due at the hands of one who had been so highly honoured, and that the difficulties which he had had to encounter, and the perils of his journey, were more than amply repaid by the testimonies which he had received of approbation and approval of his conduct: that however there was one request which he would venture to ask of the king; and upon Nouschiréwan’s assuring him that his request should be granted, were he even to ask for a share in his kingdom, Barzouyéh begged the king not to value his services in the readiness which he had shown to obey his orders; that his life was at the disposal of his sovereign, nor had he any claim to recompense for his unlimited devotion to his glory and renown; that the distinction to which he had been raised was the effect of the king’s generosity and condescension, and far exceeded his deserts: and upon Nouschiréwan’s desiring to be acquainted with his wishes, Barzouyéh continued in the following manner; I beg of the king to order his vizir Buzurdjmihr, the son of Bakhtegan, to employ his talents and the force of his judgment, together with the resources of his learning and imagination, in writing a short account of my life and actions, to be placed before the chapter containing the history of the lion and the bull; and this memorial will not fail to raise me and my family to the highest pinnacle of glory, and to perpetuate our name in distant ages as long as the book exists which has procured for me the favour of the king. Nouschiréwan and his nobles having heard these words, admired that elevation of character which sought its reward in the memory of a grateful posterity; and the king, approving the choice of Barzouyéh, told him that he should have what he desired, which was the least thing he could have asked for, whatever importance he appeared to attach to it. Then Nouschiréwan went up to his vizir, and having praised the fidelity of Barzouyéh, and his unconquerable perseverance in the mission with which he had been entrusted, and having extolled the services which he had rendered to the country by the accession of knowledge and wisdom which he had brought into it, and his disinterestedness in refusing the reward which had been offered him, desired him to prepare himself for the task of writing the history of the life of Barzouyéh, containing an account of his journey to, and his return from, India, not forgetting to place his conduct in the most favourable point of view: that Barzouyéh had claims upon the gratitude of the whole country, and that he, Buzurdjmihr, estimating the value of his labours by his own knowledge and love of science, and producing a work, which would unite the suffrages of all classes of persons, would perpetuate his own fame together with that of Barzouyéh. Moreover the king desired his vizir, as soon as he had finished what he was to write, to bring it to him, that he might have it read aloud to his people, as a proof of Barzouyéh’s attachment to his sovereign’s person, and a monument of his own glory. Buzurdjmihr thanked the king for the confidence, which he had shown him, and having retired to his apartment, he began to write the history of Barzouyéh from the period when he first frequented the schools; he described his journey to India for the purpose of extending his knowledge in chemistry and medicine, where he first became acquainted with the language of the country, up to the time when Nouschiréwan sent him thither in search of the book; and took care to omit nothing that could illustrate all the good qualities which Barzouyéh possessed. And haying informed the king that he had finished his history, Nouschiréwan assembled the nobles of his kingdom and the principal persons of his court, and commanded Buzurdjmihr to read what he had written in the presence of Barzouyéh. And Buzurdjmihr having finished reading, the king praised him for the talents which he had displayed in the composition of his work, and offered him presents of different kinds, all of which he refused, excepting a robe such as was worn by the king. Then Barzouyéh thanked Buzurdjmihr, and kissed his head and hand, and approaching the king, expressed his gratitude for the distinction and honour which his sovereign had conferred upon himself and family.

The subject-matter of the Book of Kalila and Dimna, from the pen of Almokaffa.

The book of Kalila and Dimna is one of those which the wise men of India composed, consisting of proverbs and fables, by which they conveyed their lessons of morality to the learned and vulgar; and amongst the various contrivances which the disciples of every sect and persuasion have imagined for giving to the world the benefit of that instruction, which they thought could only be received at their hands, was that to which the present work owes its origin; than which none could be found more efficacious, or better suited to the purpose which was in view; for the doctrines being placed in the mouths of birds and beasts, by this means a pleasing delusion was practised on the reader of every age and condition, and conviction brought home to his heart in the very moment that his fancy alone appeared to be engaged; so that in the end the learned man found his stores of wisdom increased; the ignorant man, who looked for nothing but amusement, felt himself involuntarily instructed; and the young, who were at first only captivated by the lively images, which presenting themselves under pleasing forms, easily engraved themselves on the heart, found themselves, as their age advanced, possessed of a fund of information, of which they had not suspected the existence: and as a man, whose parents during his childhood have been labouring for his welfare in accumulating money and estates, finds upon reaching manhood that he is in possession of a large fortune, without having been himself at the pains of acquiring it; in the same manner the young scholar, who has treasured up in his memory the rules of conduct contained in this book, is relieved from seeking after any further instruction in his riper years. It is necessary however, in order to reap the advantages which its study is able to impart, to understand fully the spirit in which it is composed, to disengage from its figurative language the truths which it is intended to convey, and to seize the exact purport of its fables: for reading without reflection is not accompanied by any solid profit; and he who is employed in heaping science upon science, without any system of digesting into a body of useful instruction his various acquirements, may be compared to, the man, of whom it is told, that he went into a desert and discovered a spot of ground, where he suspected there was a rich mine; he immediately began to dig, and found in a short time gold and silver; but fancying, if he only supplied himself, as occasion required, from the treasures which he had discovered, that the enjoyment of his good fortune would be very incomplete, he determined to get the whole at once into his possession: for this purpose he hired a number of persons, whom he conducted to the spot, and having given in charge to each of them a certain portion of the gold and silver, he ordered them to carry it to his house, remaining himself at the mine; but the labourers, taking advantage of his want of foresight and imprudence, carried, in concert with each other, the load to their own homes; and after the whole produce of the mine had been in this manner removed, the man himself went away, exulting in the satisfaction which he should experience at the sight of his riches, and only found out, upon reaching his house, the trick which had been practised upon him, owing to his own inconsiderateness and want of precaution. And the reading of this book, without attending to its scope and aim, which often lying deep, do not obtrude themselves on the mind’s eye at first view, is as unproductive as the nut which has not been broken; or as the pains of the young scholar, who desired to acquire the talent of conversing correctly in society, and for that purpose went to a friend, who was remarkable for the propriety with which he spoke, and acquainted him with his wish to learn the proper idiom of the language; his friend directed him to a certain book, and he returned home, and pored over the volume, but without paying any regard to the connection of its different parts, by which alone the various acceptations of the same word could be ascertained. It happened shortly after, that he was in company with a number of clever and well informed persons, and in the course of conversation he made use of a word in a wrong sense; which one of the company having remarked, he replied, that it could not be the case, as he had read it in a book which he had at home; and the tone in which he made this declaration was a proof of the validity of the charge of ignorance, which had been brought against him. And the man, who having discovered the wisdom and morality concealed under proverbial and figurative language, which this book contains, hesitates to regulate his conduct by the knowledge which he has acquired, is like the person, who perceiving a thief who had broken into his house walking about in his room, whilst he was in bed, pretended to be asleep, that he might better observe the motions of the robber, and watch the moment for arresting him; he therefore lay as quiet as he could, till at length becoming drowsy, his eyes closed more effectually than he intended, and his unwelcome visitor had time and opportunity to carry off whatever he chose; at length suddenly awakening, he looked about to see what was going on, and found out his mistake, when it was too late, in having neglected to take earlier measures for the security of his property, when he had it in his power.

Knowledge, it has been said, is not perfect without action; for knowledge is the tree, and action the fruit. The man who is possessed of knowledge, is enabled by a corresponding line of conduct to reap the advantages of his acquirements; and he, who does not make a proper use of what he knows, is like the man, who in travelling chose a road in which he was aware that he should be exposed to danger. And if he, who does not call to his aid the instruction which he has received, would reckon honestly with himself, he would find, that his errors in the path of life are no more to be attributed to his ignorance, than the misfortunes of the man who chose a dangerous road against his conviction of its insecurity, to his want of information. Whoever follows blindly his passions and propensities, without profiting either by his own experience or that of others, is like the sick man, who was thoroughly acquainted with the food which was wholesome for him, and light of digestion, but whose intemperate appetite made him eat, what only increased his disease: and he has the least excuse for the evil which he does, who sins against his judgment and his knowledge of what is praiseworthy and good; in the same manner as a man, who has both his eyes, would be more deserving of blame for having fallen into a pit, than his companion who was blind. The principal aim of a man in his pursuit of knowledge is to acquire what may be useful and profitable to himself, and not to imagine, that like the spring which is not benefited by its own water, or the silkworm which has no profit from its own toils, he is only to labour for the use of others; when he has laid up a sufficient stock of learning to serve him on all occasions in his journey through life, it is then time for him to think of communicating the results of his experience and enquiries to his fellow creatures; because the man of the world is not supposed to live entirely for himself; if he has learning, he is bound to instruct the ignorant; if he has wealth, it is his duty to assist the needy; and in his intercourse with mankind, taking compassion on the frailties of human nature, he must be kind and indulgent to the faults which he shares in common with others, and not imitate the conduct of the blind man, who blamed his friend for having the same imperfection. And although every one in his pursuits and enquiries should ever have some object steadily in view, to which his undivided and unremitting attention is directed; it is essential, that he should not waste his labour and his hours in the search after an imaginary good, placed beyond the reach of human exertions, nor prefer his worldly interest before his future state; and if he does not cling with his affections to artificial wants, he can bear their loss without a sigh. There are two things, which have been pronounced to be good for every one, and which are as much adapted to human nature, as every species of wood is proper fuel for a fire; namely, religion and property: and there are two, which have been declared to be prejudicial, and as incompatible with the constitution of man, as water with fire; a divided kingdom, and a pretension to a share in a wife’s affections: still however the complexion of an action, bearing upon it the marks of unsuitableness and wrong, is changed, when the hand of Providence can be traced in its accomplishment; and we should learn to repress our anger, when the conduct of a person, though opening the prospect of a very different result, has still through the agency of fate been the occasion to us of an unforeseen advantage; as was the case with a poor man, whose poverty and distress drove him to implore the charity of his neighbours, but without success. Whilst he was sitting one night in his house, he saw a thief enter his door, and felt quite unconcerned at the visit, because he had little or nothing to lose; as the thief was looking about for something to steal, he accidentally touched a jar of wheat, and finding nothing else to repay his trouble, but being unwilling to go away empty handed, he took off his shirt, and spread it out in order to pour the wheat into it: the man seeing this, and not choosing to be deprived of his last means of sustenance, which threatened him with starvation, the only ill which remained to complete his, misery, as he was already destitute of clothes for his body, seized his club which lay by his side, and crying out at the same time, so alarmed the thief, that he fled in haste out of the house, and left his shirt behind him, with which the poor man appeared, on the following morning. It is not however fit, that a man should be induced by an example of this kind to neglect the necessary means for the improvement of his temporal condition, or that he should rely on a fortuitous and happy combination of circumstances to deliver him out of all his difficulties and trouble; for an extraordinary interposition of fate very seldom occurs; and mankind in general are doomed to owe their advancement and success in life to their own exertions, and to the means which it is in the power of every one to make use of, which however should be applied to the acquisition of some solid and permanent good; for whoever fixes his thoughts on an inappropriate object, where his solicitude and anxious attention can only end in disappointment and trouble, is like the dove, who having hatched and lost her young ones, did not take warning, but made her nest in the same place, and was in this manner robbed of her second brood. Nature in assigning to every thing its proper bounds, has also limited the exertions of man; and whoever gives himself up to visionary schemes to which his faculties are inadequate, will find in the end, that his calculations were erroneous, and his labour unsatisfactory. The man whose attention is equally engrossed by the things of this world and of the next, is subject to the disagreeable as well as pleasing varieties of a chequered life; but he whose mind is wholly bent on the enjoyments of this world, is uninterruptedly exposed to perplexities and disappointment.

There are three things, which are appropriate and becoming objects of man’s care and concern; his individual interest, his relations to the world, and his posthumous renown: and there are three things, which in their result are disadvantageous to him, procrastination, the loss of opportunity, and unbounded credulity; for it often happens that a person gives credit to a story, which is repugnant to his reason, and the truth of which he doubts, for no other cause than because it has been told him; but the man of understanding will be ever upon his guard against the suggestions of his passions, and will pause at every step which he takes in a path of whose issue he is uncertain, lest advancing too hastily in a track, with which he is but partially acquainted, he find in the end, like the man who in a journey chose a wrong road, that he has been gradually removing from the point at which he was endeavouring to arrive; or even pay more dearly for his inconsiderate haste, like one who having a moat in his eye continued to rub it, till he became blind.

The man of sense believes in fate and destiny, but not to the exclusion of prudence and foresight in human affairs: he unites his exertions for his own advantage, with his endeavours to promote that of others, and never seeks to benefit himself at the expence of his neighbour; which would make him deserve the fate of the merchant, who formed a partnership in trade with another in the same line of business, and the two hired a shop in common, in which they placed their goods. Now one of them happening to have his house near the shop, determined upon stealing his partners share of their joint stock; but fearing, that, if he went at night and in the dark, he might possibly, by mistake, carry off a part of his own property instead of his partner’s, he took a cloak with him one day when he went into the shop, and placed it on a bundle, which he singled out as his prey, and returned home: shortly after his partner came to look after his property, and finding the cloak of the other lying upon his own goods, and thinking that it had been forgotten, he put it, where he thought it was likely to be discovered, on a bundle belonging to his companion, shut up the shop, and went away. At night his partner came with a man, whom he had engaged to assist him by the promise of a reward, and feeling about for the cloak in the dark, he took away the goods upon which he found it, and after much labour carried them to his house; but being too much fatigued to examine them that night, he went to bed, and in the morning discovered to his vexation and surprise, that what he thought he had stolen, was a part of the property which had always belonged to him. Upon which he went immediately to the shop, where his partner, having already arrived before him, was lamenting over the loss of his friend’s goods, and fearing that he should be accused of a breach of trust, was devising means to pay the price of what had been stolen, in order to prove his honesty and integrity. The real culprit seeing his partner in this distress, and enquiring the occasion of it, was informed by his companion, that he missed a part of the stock, which did not belong to his own share, and that as he was alarmed at the thoughts of being suspected of the theft, he was desirous of proving his innocence by paying the value of what had been lost; upon which the other desired him to be under no apprehensions, adding that deceit was one of the worst crimes which a man can commit, and that treachery and cunning never lead to good; that he who practises them, is always the victim of his own contrivances, and the author of wrong severely atones for the propensity which he has encouraged: and upon this he confessed his dishonest intentions, and detailed the manner in which he had designed to put them into execution. His partner told him that the disappointment which he had met with, was like that which happened to the thief, who knowing that a merchant had at home two jars, one filled with wheat, and the other with gold, watched his opportunity one day that the merchant was gone out, and contrived to enter privately into his house, and conceal himself there; and after having searched for some time for the two jars, he at length found them, and taking by mistake that which contained the wheat instead of that in which the money was placed, he did not discover his error till the next morning, when instead of the satisfaction, with which he had flattered himself at the success of his ingenuity, he had to regret the time and trouble which he had unprofitably employed. The false partner acknowledged the justice of the comparison, showed contrition for his crime which he ascribed to the influence of his corrupt affections, and received pardon and forgiveness from the friend, whom he had designed to deceive, being only reminded of his fault by the distrust which his character and conduct unavoidably drew after them.

Now in conclusion it cannot be too often repeated, that the person who gives up his time to the study of this book, must not be satisfied with the superficial beauties of the images by which it may attract, but must search out the depth and hidden tendency of its fables, extracting from every proverbial expression the truth which it conceals, and giving to every word its moral import; in short, he must imitate in his conduct the prudence and foresight of the youngest of three brothers, whose history is related in the following manner. Their father having left them a large fortune to be divided amongst them, the two eldest immediately entered upon a course of such extravagant expenditure, that in a short time they had nothing left; their younger brother, seeing the state and condition to which their prodigality had reduced them, could not help reflecting with himself on the value of riches and their proper object; he considered money as offering to its possessor the means of prolonging his existence, and of surrounding it with the enjoyments of life; of procuring for him distinction in the eyes of the world, and of raising him above the necessity of depending upon others for the satisfying of his wants. He acknowledged with gratitude the kind dispensation of fate in enabling the rich man to provide at his ease for the education and establishment of his children, or to extend his bounty to his relations, if he has no offspring of his own; but he pronounced wealth improperly consumed to be no better than poverty, when we consider the purposes of nature in the unequal distribution of her gifts; while he anticipated for the prudent and useful management of it corresponding blessings, in the certainty of its duration, and the sweet incense of merited praise, unalloyed by the inconveniencies and the repining, which make a lavish waste more sensibly felt. After reasoning in this manner, be determined to make use of the property which had fallen to his share for the advantage both of himself and brethren; who notwithstanding they had been themselves the authors of their own misfortune, had still he thought some claim on what had belonged to their common father; for if the prayer of the stranger, said he, in the hour of need is entitled to be favourably heard, bow can the pitiful voice of a brother in distress remain unheeded? Now a similar degree of sober reflection and prudent determination, is indispensable to the reader of this book, if he would avoid the fate of the sportsman, who fishing one day in a river, saw a shell at the bottom of the water, and threw in his net to draw it out, but failed in his attempt, and caught a fish instead of it; which, notwithstanding it was sufficiently large to serve him for food during the whole day, he did not think worth keeping, but jumped into the river to obtain the shell; and having brought it out, he found that it was empty, and regretted that he had lost a certain good by his covetousness and eagerness to obtain a greater. On the following day he returned to the same river, and threw in his net, and he took a small fish; at the same time he observed another shell, but paid no attention to it, fearing that he should be disappointed as on the preceding day; but a fisherman passing by, and being attracted by its beauty, got it out of the water, and found in it a pearl of great value; and as great a treasure awaits the researches of the person who carries his enquiries deeper than the superficial examination of this book: whereas on the other hand, whoever regards it only in the light of an amusing history, will be as little rewarded for his pains, and will meet with as great a disappointment, as the farmer, who sowed good seed in fertile ground, and when the crop appeared, in his haste to destroy the weeds, rooted up the corn at the same time.

It is essential in the last place to bear in mind, that the author of this work had four objects in view, when he composed it. The first was to render it attractive to the young reader, by the ministry of birds and beasts: the second was to engage the attention of princes, by the conduct of the animals, in the different circumstances in which they are placed: the third was to promote the amusement and excite the curiosity of every class, and thereby contribute to the lasting preservation of a book, which, fourthly, philosophers would not exclude from the sphere of their speculations.

The History of Barzouyéh the Physician, composed by Buzurdjmihr the son of Bakhtegan.

Barzouyéh the chief of the Persian physicians, who was employed to take a copy of this book and to translate it out of the Indian tongue, as has been previously mentioned, thus relates his own history: My father was a military man, and my mother was of one of the best families of the Brahmins. My birth took place under fortunate circumstances, and I was the favourite child of my parents, who bestowed more pains on my education than on that of my brothers.

Now when I had reached my seventh year, my parents placed me under the care of a tutor; and as soon as I had made some progress in the elementary branches of learning, I turned my thoughts to more scientific pursuits, and conceived a strong passion for the study of physic; which increasing every day with the opportunities which I had of reducing my knowledge to practice by visiting the sick, I felt it right to pause for a moment in order to examine soberly some doubts which had arisen in my mind respecting the appropriate objects of human exertions. I had to choose, as it appeared to me, between four things, which in general occupy the attention and engage the affections of men; the acquiring of riches, the procuring a good name, the means of temporal enjoyment, and the provision for a future state; and discovering from the writings of the physicians, that the last was the aim which they constantly had in view, I determined to persevere in the profession which I had chosen, lest I should be like the merchant who sold a precious ruby for a pearl that was of no value: I found besides in the books of the ancients, that though the physician in his practice looks chiefly to the reward of a happy futurity, he is not however disappointed of his portion of worldly good; as the farmer, who sowed his land only for a crop of corn, found, when the harvest was over, that the ground was covered with grass. I therefore continued my practice of physic, and did not refuse or neglect to visit any patient, whose cure I expected to effect either entirely or in part; and if personal attendance was sometimes out of my power, I prescribed the medicines which were proper for his disease, without accepting any remuneration for my advice, and without envying those, who with less knowledge than myself, made their profession the means of amassing wealth, and of arriving at distinction and honour; and if at any time I felt a secret longing in my soul after similar success, I reproached myself with not being able to distinguish between my interest and my hurt, and with propensities, which are attended with little or no profit, and are always the source of uneasiness and anxiety; and I was ashamed at not always bearing in mind the state which is to follow after this life, the thought of which is sufficient to make us shun the company of the wicked in the desire of perishable things; for to what in feet are our possessions reduced! to a moment’s enjoyment, of which we are as speedily robbed, and which none but the foolish will think deserving of their toils. With these reflections I endeavoured to fortify my resolution of preferring only what was substantially good, knowing that our body from its very constitution is subject to corruption, and that life, which is transitory, may he compared to a statue, whose detached members are kept together by a single nail, which being removed, the several joints give way, and the parts fall asunder; and of what solid or lasting advantage is the society of friends or lovers, whose pleasures are often purchased at a great expence, and put an end to by a trifling interruption; as a wooden dish, which has been used for the table, when it is broken, is good for nothing but to become fuel for the fire. I considered moreover, that the proffered services of a friend, often taking their source in some scheme of private advantage, are unprofitable in their result to him, on whom his professions have been lavished, as the aromatic smell of incense which a man has been at the pains of lighting in his land, is lost upon himself, and its fragrance wafted to those who are around him; and the result of this self-examination was a fixed purpose to raise my thoughts beyond the limits of this fading world, to the contemplation of my future existence, lest rating too highly the little which we enjoy here below, and making an unjust estimate of the greater good which will be revealed hereafter, I should be deceived in my calculations, like the merchant, who having a great quantity of sandal wood in his house, determined to sell it by weight, that his stock might last the longer, and in this manner disposed of it for less than its value: I therefore felt more and more convinced, that if I fixed my affections on things of unapproved worth, or listened to the suggestions of my ill-regulated passions, my credulity would be repaid by disappointment and trouble; and I was confirmed in this persuasion by the story of the thief, who having formed with some of his companions a plan for robbing the house of a rich man, made so much noise that he awakened the owner; who informed his wife of what he had heard, and desired her to be still, as he thought there were thieves breaking into his house; he then told her to pretend to awaken him by making a noise, which the thieves might hear, and to ask him to give her some account of his great fortune and riches; and when I desire you, said the master of the house to his wife, to hold your tongue, you must not forget to be more earnest and louder in your demand. The wife did as her husband had desired her, and the thieves listened attentively to all that was passing. The husband then told his wife, that if fortune had been bountiful to them, she ought to be satisfied with the possession of what fate had given them; for if I inform you, continued he, of the means by which I have acquired my riches, it is possible that I shall be overheard, and we may both of us suffer for my imprudence and indiscretion. The wife assured him that there was no one near, to hear what he related; upon which he acceded to her request. I have collected together, said he, all that I possess by my dexterity in robbing, and I never excited in any one suspicion of my practices. One moonlight night I went out with my companions, and climbing up to the top of the house of a rich person like ourselves, I went to the aperture which was made for the admission of light, and used an incantation, which consisted in pronouncing seven times, Shulam, Shulam; then I embraced the light, and no one perceived that I had let myself down into the room. I then took away all the money and furniture which I could find, and repeating the same incantation seven times, I embraced the light, and it drew me up; then I went to my companions, and we retired unmolested. When the thieves heard this, they congratulated themselves on the discovery which they had made, and promised themselves a large booty; they therefore remained quiet, till they thought that the man and his wife were asleep; then the leader of them went to the window, and said, Shulam, Shulam, seven times, and embraced the light, that he might let himself down into the room, but falling backwards upon his head on the floor, the husband immediately sprung out of his bed, and rushed upon him with his club, and asking him who he was, and what he wanted, was answered by the thief, that he had been betrayed by his too easy credulity, and was then reaping die fruits of his error.

In the next place I proceeded to examine the religions which prevailed, with a view of choosing that which should appear to be the best; but the conversations which I had with various persons on the subject were so unsatisfactory, and so little calculated to help me to a prudent decision in the important question with which I was occupied, that I felt that I could not do better than firmly embrace the persuasion of my forefathers: but this conviction did not long retain the upper hand; for notwithstanding the speciousness with which I laboured to fence it round, it was assailed by the irresistible desire of sifting to the bottom the pretensions of the different systems of belief: I could not however forget, that the term of my existence was fast approaching, and the end of all worldly things near at hand, and that the thread of life is often cut asunder in the very moment that health and happiness promise to secure and enliven the continuance of our being.

Whilst I was in this train of thought, and in this state of indecision and restless impatience, I compared myself to the man, of whom it is said, that he was in love with a married woman, and that she, in order to facilitate their private meetings, and to afford her lover the means of escaping in case of surprise, had a subterraneous passage dug from her house to the road, and the door placed near a well of water, which in case of difficulty might serve as a direction to it. Now it happened one day that her husband arrived unexpectedly, and as soon as his wife heard him at the door, she desired her lover to lose no time, but to retire as quickly as possible by the passage which was near the well; upon which he left her; but almost immediately returned, and said that he could find no well of water to direct him to the passage; (for she had forgotten to mention that the well had been filled up.) The wife asked him in an angry tone, what he had to do with the well; that she had only spoken of it in order to assist him if necessary in finding out the passage, but that being once there, he had nothing to do but to go straight on. The man reproached her with having mentioned the well, and thereby perplexed him to no purpose in his endeavour to find it out: and this altercation lasted, till the husband made his appearance, who laying hands upon the lover, delivered him over to the supreme authority of the place. I began then clearly to see the inconvenience and danger of an unsettled state of mind, without any determinate rule of conduct or opinion, and resolved, by listening to that warning voice which never fails to make itself distinctly heard within us, to trace out a line of life for myself which no system of religion could condemn. I conceived an abhorrence of war and violence of every sort; I stopped up the avenues in my heart to lying, deceit, calumny, and all uncharitable and unsocial feelings; and I endeavoured to fortify my belief in a future state of rewards and punishments, thereby robbing the unreal, though in many instances specious charms of wickedness, of one engine, by which they subjugate the understanding and enchain the soul, and strengthening my perseverance in that course of moral discipline, which, acting the part of a faithful monitor, is the safest companion we can take for our journey through life, and which, with the blessing and aid of Providence, is continually advancing us to that state of high perfection, which is placed out of the reach of the chances of this world, where every thing is so unstable and insecure, and is not exposed like the stores of wealth to be annihilated by expenditure, nor offers any temptation to the hand of the robber, or to a violent exertion of arbitrary power, which at one stroke deprives us of our all: nor do the elements conspire against it, which often subject our property to inundations, and the ravages of fire. The man, who is more anxious about the little which he enjoys to-day, and perhaps may lose to-morrow, than about what is substantially and lastingly beneficial, is like the merchant who had a very precious pearl, and hired a man to bore it, engaging to pay him a hundred dinars for the day’s work. When he had conducted the workman to his house, he led him into a room, where there happened to be a pair of cymbals lying in the corner, and he asked him if he could play upon them; and the workman having answered in the affirmative, the merchant desired him to give him a specimen of his talent, upon which he began to beat the cymbals, the merchant keeping time with his hands and head, and continued playing till the evening, and then asked for the reward, which had been agreed upon. The merchant told him that he had not finished his work, to which the other replied, that he had done as he had been ordered, and insisted upon receiving the hundred dinars; which the merchant in the end was obliged to pay, and his pearl remained untouched.

The more therefore I considered the world, and what it has in its power to offer to its votaries, the more reason I saw for bidding adieu to its favours, and removing at a distance from its temptations; and I became convinced, that religion with all the tenderness of a parent towards its child, would smooth the path which leads out of this to another life, and open the door to lasting satisfaction; for the religious man meditates with composure on all that he does; he is grateful, humble, contented, free from anxiety and trouble, not attached to worldly and sensual delights, pure and chaste in his thoughts, not given to envy, and so cautiously weighs every action he performs, that repentance never follows upon his steps, and neither dreading nor flattering men, he is always at peace with them.

With these reflections my attachment to a religious life grew gradually stronger, though mixed at times with secret forebodings of weakness and inability to persevere in the course which I could not help approving, but which at the same time would draw me off from another of which I had already begun to taste the sweets, and which my success in my profession rendered every day more attractive. And I had a secret dread of offering a parallel to the example of the dog, who having come to a river with a bone in his mouth, saw its shadow in the water, and fancying that it was another, sprung in to seize it, and thus not only lost what he had, but got nothing in return: in this manner I was alternately assailed by considerations which stimulated me to persevere in my resolution, and by doubts and scruples which made me waver in my purpose; and I instituted a comparison of the austerities of religion and the sacrifices which it demands, with the trials which the man of the world is bound to undergo, and could not help confessing, that the most exquisite delights of worldly enjoyment are as little calculated to satisfy the mind and to shield it against the attacks of sorrow and dissatisfaction, as a draught of salt water is able to quench the thirst which it only serves to increase: that the gratifications which promise to be a source of contentment, are as illusory as the bone which a dog found, and being made greedy by the smell of meat which it had not lost, continued to gnaw it, till his mouth bled; or perhaps as fatal to their possessor as the bit of flesh to the kite, who was in consequence attacked by the other birds and killed: and I compared the pleasures of life to a bag of honey containing poison at the bottom, whose taste, whilst it is agreeable to the palate, is insensibly producing death; or to a dream, with which a man is delighted in his sleep, but which leaves no trace on his mind, by which he can recall it to his recollection in his waking hours. The charms therefore and advantages of a religious life painted themselves in stronger colours to my mind, and I became dissatisfied with the continual vacillation in my opinions, embracing at one moment a line of conduct, which I as speedily rejected the next; like the judge, who having heard one party, gave a decision in his favour, but as soon as he had listened to the other, reversed his judgment. Amidst this conflict of passions I asked myself, if the hardship of religion deserved a moment’s consideration, when put into the balance against the calm and uninterrupted repose of eternity; and whether transitory bliss would not be too dearly purchased by lasting misery and punishment that would not cease; and whether a bitter draught in the present life mixed up with the assurances of the sweets of happiness hereafter was not better than the overflowing cup of worldly joy, which would become the measure of future torment. I felt persuaded that, were it proposed to a man to live an hundred years, and every day to have a small portion of his body cut off, on condition that at the expiration of the term, he should be released from all trouble and pain, and enter into a state of comfort and security, he would regard this limited space of suffering as insignificant: and it is thus with the patience and endurance which religion requires for the few sacrifices which it imposes; and after all, what is the life of man, but a state of being, which through all the different stages of existence, from the embryo in the womb, to the old man descending into his grave, is exposed to trials and vicissitudesa! The helpless infant, the fractious child, the impatient youth, the busy man, the more advanced period of life, and, finally, the infirmities of age pointing to the hour, which is to close the scene, which friends have enlivened and made dear, all present aspects of such painful variety and mortification, that the prudent man should occupy himself with more serious thoughts, than what the business of this transitory state can supply.

a I have in this place considerably abridged the original, which offers a tedious display of anatomical observations neither instructive nor amusing.

And I became more strengthened in the conviction of this truth from the state of manners of the country in which I lived, where, notwithstanding the character of the king, who was distinguished for justice, nobleness of sentiment, integrity, knowledge of men and things, acquaintance with the sciences, love of good and hatred of injustice, the age appeared to be going backwards, and all respect for virtue and religion was lost in a perversity of will and choice. Honest men grew indifferent, and the bad found their account in wickedness; understanding was set at nought, and vanity had taken its place; the oppressor walked boldly in open day, and lust and covetousness had laid aside all restraint and shame, because contentment was looked upon as a weakness. Reputation was no longer an object of anxiety, because worthlessness had come into honour and power, and men of character were obliged to retire before the pretensions of aspiring and successful criminality; and it was painful to behold amidst this triumph of evil over every thing that was good, how men possessed of reason could so far forget the dignity of their nature, and the proud eminence on which they stood, as to lose sight in sensual gratifications of the high destiny of their soul. I therefore compared the human race to a man, who, flying from a furious elephant, goes down into a well; he suspends himself from two branches, which are at the brim of it, whilst his feet rest upon something projecting out of its sides, which proves, to be the heads of four serpents appearing out of their holes; at the bottom he discovers a dragon with its mouth open ready to swallow him if he should fall; and raising his eye towards the two branches, he sees two rats, one white, and the other black, which are incessantly gnawing their stems; at the same moment his attention is arrested by the sight of a bee-hive, and beginning eagerly to taste the honey, he is so taken up with its sweetness, that he forgets that his feet are resting upon the serpents, that the rats are gnawing the branches to which he is hanging, and that the dragon is ready to devour him, and thus his inconsiderateness and folly only cease with his existence. I considered the well to represent the world with the train of ills which belong to it: the four serpents are the four humours in the human body, which being disturbed in their mutual action become so many deadly poisons: the two rats are night and day, which are continually shortening the space of man’s life: the dragon is the term of being, which sooner or later awaits us all: and the honey those animal indulgences, which by their delusive influence turn us away from the path of duty. I therefore finally determined to remain in my present state, watching over my actions, with the steady purpose of carrying them to the highest degree of perfection of which I should be capable, in the hope that I should one day find a guide for my conduct, a controlling power for the affections of my soul, and a faithful administrator of my worldly affairs. I translated many books, and returned from India after having committed this to writing.

The Lion and the Bull.

Bidpaï, who was the chief of the Brahmins, was one day summoned into the presence of king Dabschelim, and being commanded to relate the story of the two friends, whose mutual esteem and unreserved familiarity a false and designing companion succeeded in changing into sentiments of hatred and revenge he began in the following manner: When two friends accept the officious services of a person notorious for falsehood and deceit, their speedy disunion is the inevitable consequence of their misplaced confidence, as illustrated in the following story.

There was in the country of Distawand an old man, who had three sons, who, being grown up, dissipated the fortune of their father, and had recourse to all possible means of improving their temporal condition, notwithstanding the admonitions and exhortations of their aged parent, who was continually pointing out to them the fatal consequences of their conduct. On one occasion he thus addressed them: My sons, the man of the world is in search of three things; an independent fortune, consideration in life, and the provision for a future state: but to the attainment of these, four conditions are indispensable; incorruptible integrity in the obtaining of riches, security for the acquired good, its productive employment, and its appropriation to the lawful enjoyments of life and the benefit of himself and others; without which his prospect in a future state will be clouded by apprehension and dread, and his expectations even in this life attended with disappointment; for either his failure in the acquisition of wealth will be followed by the loss of worldly happiness, or his acquired possessions being built on a sandy foundation will every moment be in danger of falling, and will cover him in their ruins, or else his accumulated but inactive stores will gradually but sensibly diminish, even under the deceitful safeguard of a niggardly expenditure, as the kohlb is imperceptibly consumed by the successive application of its minutest particles to the eye-brow; and if he is inconsiderate in the purposes to which he applies and in the choice of the places where he deposits his riches, he will scarcely be more benefited by them than he who has nothing, and expose himself to the risk of being violently deprived of them; as the lake, which has no sufficient outlet to the accumulation of the streams which serve to fill it, overflows its banks, and the water is lost.

b The kohl was a collyrium used for colouring the eyebrows; and though only just so much of the composition was employed at one time as could be taken up with the point of an instrument made for the purpose, still the ointment kept gradually diminishing, and must in the end be entirely consumed; the application to inactive riches is obvious.

The sons of the old man listened with the greatest attention to the discourse of their father, and were unable to dispute the justice of his reproof. Now it happened sometime after that the eldest set out on a journey to the country of Mioun, and as he was travelling in his carriage drawn by two bulls, the one named Schanzabeh, and the other Bandaneh, he came to a part of the road which was rendered impassable by the mud; Schanzabeh stuck fast in the mire, and was unable to proceed, notwithstanding the efforts which were made to extricate him; till at length the traveller being wearied with his exertions, and impatient at the delay which they occasioned, determined to continue his journey, leaving one of the company behind with Schanzabeh, with orders to remain with him, hoping that when the road became dry, he would be able to follow him with the bull. The man having passed the night on the spot to no purpose, grew tired of waiting, so he quitted the beast, and having rejoined his master, told him that the bull was dead; adding, Behold, when a man’s hour is come, and the day of his death is at hand, his labour is in vain, for his precautions cannot arrest the arm which is lifted up to strike him, his toil is folly and his exertions a mockery: he is like a man, who having gone into a desert, which abounded with wild beasts, had not proceeded far before he saw a wolf advancing towards him; he looked to the right and left for a way to escape, and discovering a small village on the opposite side of a river, he ran in haste to the bank, but found to his disappointment that there was no bridge. The wolf being at his heels and in the act of springing upon him, he had no time left for reflection, but threw himself at once, though unable to swim, into the water, where he must inevitably have perished, had not some inhabitants of the village, who had observed what had passed, come out to his assistance, and rescued him as he was on the point of sinking. The man being somewhat recovered from his fright, and no longer in dread of the wolf, walked towards a single house, which he perceived on the side of the river, and entering into it was struck at the sight of a company of robbers, who from their appearance gave him no reason to congratulate himself on the asylum he had sought; and his apprehensions were not a little increased, on discovering that the banditti were employed in sharing a rich booty, which, he had no doubt, was the plunder of some merchant, whom they had waylaid and murdered: he therefore lost no time in making his escape as quickly as possible, and went to the village, and was leaning with his back against a wall, to take a moment’s breath, when it fell down upon him, and crushed him to death. The merchant acknowledged the force of his servant’s reasoning, but observed at the same time that the story was not new to him.

Whilst this was passing, the bull contrived to release himself from the mud, and having become his own master, he sought out the richest pastures, grew fat, and returned to his habits of gallantry with the females of his species, which he met with in his rambles. In the neighbourhood, where he was, was a large forest, the haunt of a noble lion, who was the sovereign of those parts, and had in his service wolves, jackals, foxes, hyenas, panthers, and other animals. But notwithstanding this numerous suite, his majesty the lion had so high an opinion of his own sagacity and wisdom, that he thought it beneath his dignity, and insulting to the hereditary knowledge of a great king, ever to ask advice of any of his attendants; but happening one day to hear the bellowing of the bull, with which, notwithstanding the extent of his learning, he was hitherto unacquainted, having never had any animal of the kind in his service, his astonishment so far got the better of his natural habits, that he remained riveted to the spot where he stood, and commanded that his food should be brought to him thither every day.

Now amongst the number of his attendants were two jackals, Kalila and Dimna, both of them very cunning and clever. What can be the reason, said Dimna one day to his brother Kalila, that the lion does not quit the place where he is? Your question, replied Kalila, is not a little surprising. Our business is to wait upon the king, to receive his orders, obey his commands, and avoid whatever may be disagreeable to him; and our rank and consequence are not sufficiently great to entitle us to the honour of conversing with our sovereign, or to give us the privilege of prying into his affairs. I recommend to you for the future more prudence and circumspection in your conduct, lest your curiosity and indiscretion should expose you to the fate of the carpenter’s monkey, who having seen his master sitting upon a log of wood, in order to split it with two wedges, took it into his head, one day that he was left quite alone, to imitate his example; for this purpose he seated himself oft a similar piece of wood, with his tail towards the wedge which remained in the fissure, and his face towards that with which he was to continue his work; in this posture his tail hanging down in the part of the block which was split, the wood, upon his suddenly removing the wedge which was behind him, closed upon it, and the violence of the pain made him fall from his seat and faint away: at this moment the carpenter arrived, and without considering what his monkey had already suffered, he beat him so unmercifully, that it was difficult to say whether his own indiscretion or the rage of his master was the most fatal to him. I comprehend your meaning, replied Dimna, but am not convinced by your reasoning. Those who are allowed to approach their sovereign, should have a nobler motive in view than their own private interest; their aim should be to secure his protection for his friends, and to put him upon his guard against his enemies. Persons who have no energy of character will be contented with an inferior station, and grasp with eagerness at the boon of an humble pittance, like the dog, who is satisfied with a dry bone; whereas on the other hand, men of distinguished merit and a vigorous understanding will indignantly refuse to move for ever in a sphere which is too confined for the exercise of their talents, and disproportioned to their high deserts. The lion will condescend to feed upon a hare, till the camel come in his way, and offer him the prospect of a more worthy prey; but the dog will fawn and wag his tail for the scanty morsel that is thrown to him; unlike the elephant, who requires to be caressed before he will eat of the food which is placed before him. He who has a proper sense of his own superiority, though his life be short, may yet be said to have lived long; whilst he, whose abject soul can repress the emotions of true greatness, which are struggling in his breast, though he may protract his existence beyond the years which are usually allotted to his species, has in reality lived but a moment, when compared with the man, whose shorter span of being has been filled up by illustrious deeds. The wretch who can sit contented with the lot of mediocrity, is no better than the beasts which perish, and leave no memorial behind them. Once more I beseech you, brother, answered Kalila, to attend to the dictates of your good sense, for it is but reasonable that a man should be satisfied with the rank in life to which his claims entitle him; and surely the distinction which we enjoy is not so disproportioned to our merit, that our actual situation should make us consider it beneath our deserts. Dimna. Degrees of honour are commensurate with the stock of personal character, which is the ladder, by which a man ascends from the lowest to the highest steps of advancement, and the want of which precipitates the unworthy favourite of fortune into the place which is his due; and though the rise to distinction be an arduous task, and the fall from the eminence of glory easy, and which may be compared, the former to the difficulty with which a stone of great weight is lifted up to be placed upon the back; and the latter to the facility with which it is thrown, from thence upon the ground; still however this should not deter us from extending our views beyond the sphere in which we are moving, when circumstances seem to have put into our power the means of success. Kalila. What is it then that you intend to do? Dimna.

My intention is to solicit an audience of the lion, and if I find him undecided how to act on the present occasion, I will make his embarrassment the means of my advancement. Kalila. But what makes you think that the lion is in any difficulty? Dimna. My own observation; for to the observing eye the outward manner is the surest key to the secrets of the heart. Kalila. But how can you expect to meet with any favourable notice from the lion, without possessing the qualifications of a minister? Dimna. A strong man, though not used to carry great burdens, does not sink under the heaviest weight, but no practice can give a weak man the power of lifting a weight which is beyond his strength. Kalila. A king does not always think it necessary to select the worthiest objects for the business of the state; it is often sufficient to be near his person, in order to become the minion of his favour, as the vine attaches itself to the nearest tree; and this is a privilege which you have never enjoyed. Dimna. I understand the purport of what you say, but you forget that those who are the unworthy favourites of the king, and are at this moment enjoying his unmerited protection, have no greater claims to his countenance and support from, the circumstance of their being employed accidentally about his person, than he who has always lived at a distance from court, and approaches his sovereign for the first time in his life. My endeavour will be to prove, by my diligence and activity, that I am qualified for the post of which they are in possession, and to exhibit in my whole conduct and deportment that freedom from haughtiness, that patience under unmerited and unprovoked calumny, that unruffled temper and good breeding, which are indispensable to public men in the pursuit of the objects of their laudable ambition. Kalila. Well, granted that you are allowed to approach the lion, upon what do you ground your hopes of a favourable reception? Dimna. When I have succeeded so far as to be admitted familiarly to the presence and conversation of the king, my next step will be to become thoroughly acquainted with his temper and disposition; and having discovered these, I shall take care, always watching his whims and caprices, to contradict him as seldom as possible; and if I see him bent upon any thing, from which I can anticipate benefit or advantage to the country, I will place it in the most favourable point of view, in order to flatter him with an opinion of his judgment and knowledge of affairs; if on the other hand passion or ignorance should make him command any measure either injurious or dishonourable, I will do my utmost, by placing the evil which may result from it in the strongest light, to make him desist from his purpose; by these means I hope to gain his confidence and esteem by my extraordinary services; for the talent of the statesman in being able to give to actions the complexion which he pleases, is not unlike that of the painter, who by his knowledge of perspective practises a pleasing delusion on the eyes of the beholder. Kalila. Be this as it may, I shall always think that this familiarity with the sovereign will be attended with danger to you; for it is an old saying, that there are three things, against which every one who is in his senses will be upon his guard, owing to the difficulty of preventing their evil consequences; the confidence of a sovereign, the entrusting a secret to a woman, and drinking poison in order to try its effects; and a king has not been unaptly compared to a steep mountain, abounding with fruits and precious stones, and medicinal herbs, but at the same time the haunt of wild beasts, the difficulty of whose ascent, if it should be fortunately overcome, is succeeded if not by certain and speedy destruction, at least by continual insecurity. Dimna. There is certainly much truth in what you say, but your conclusions would lead to the condemnation of all spirited and laudable exertion, if the possibility of failure in any great undertaking were always to be considered as a sufficient reason for not entering upon the trial; you would exclude from the path of human ambition all interference in state affairs, all commercial enterprize, and the pursuit of military renown; forgetting that the man of strong understanding and sound judgment has been always held up as a pattern for imitation in two situations, when either through the boldness of his views, and the steadiness of his conduct, he has raised himself to a post of high honour at the court of his sovereign, or given an additional worth and lustre to his talents by their exercise in the cause of religion and virtue, as the elephant excites our wonder by the free exertion of his strength in his wild state, or commands our admiration by his docility, when he has learned to carry a king upon his back.

Kalila here wished his brother success, and Dimna went immediately to the lion, who upon hearing his name, recollected to have known his father, and enquired what his business was. Dimna replied, that he had been long seeking an opportunity of offering his humble services to the king in whatever way he would condescend to make use of him; that however limited his pretensions might be, the example of persons who scrape together every stick which they can find against a time of need, gave him reason to hope, that his slender capacities might find employment. At these words the lion was not less astonished than pleased, and immediately conceived a good opinion of Dimna; and going up to one of his attendants, he observed to him, that men of understanding and worth are often condemned to pass their time in obscurity, till some sudden encouragement produces a spark of emulation, which if properly fed, bursts forth into a flame of patriotic and useful conduct.

Now when Dimna had learned what impression he had made upon the king, he exclaimed: The subjects in a state have no other motive for presenting themselves to the notice of their sovereign than the hope of making him acquainted with the abilities which they possess, and which are most usefully exerted either in the cabinet or in the field. This previous knowledge in a sovereign of the qualifications of those whom he employs in the service of the state is the more necessary, as a multitude of counsellors, whose capacity for business has not been already tried, greatly impede, by the confusion and irregularity which they occasion, the benefit which might be derived from a few faithful and approved servants; a king who is thus surrounded by a number of unprofitable and weak ministers, resembles the man who at the end of his toil, in carrying a large stone of no value, expires with fatigue, or one who having occasion for the trunk of a palm tree, gathers a number of reeds. And the king is too just to despise real worth, though in a person of little reputation, who often by the greatness of his deeds belies his humble origin, as the tendon which is taken from a dead animal, when adapted into a bow, becomes a weapon, which the hand of a monarch does not disdain to wield.

The object of Dimna in speaking thus was to show to the persons who surrounded the king and the people at large, that it was not as they supposed to the reputation which his father had enjoyed, but to his own personal character, that he was indebted for the countenance and support, with which the king honoured him; and this induced him to add, that it would be unjust in a sovereign to estimate the merit or demerit of the son by that of the father, without any regard to individual worth, and that it would be no less imprudent in him to suppose, that the bare circumstance of being about his person, could impart wisdom to his attendants, than it would be dangerous to his health in the ease of sickness, to trust entirely to the strength of his constitution, and refuse the assistance of his physician. Here Dimna left off speaking; and the lion being pleased with what he heard, gave him a favourable answer, remarking at the same time to his court, that it was unbecoming in a king not to respect legitimate pretensions, and to imitate the conduct of the world at large, whose inhabitants might be divided into two classes, and compared the one on account of its malignant disposition to the serpent, which being trod upon and forbearing at first to sting, darts its venom into the foot which bruises it a second time; and the other on account of its meekness and inoffensive manner to the cold sandal wood, which in spite of its smooth surface and unsuspicious form, suddenly takes fire from excessive rubbing.

From henceforth Dimna began to be admitted to great familiarity with the lion; and as he had often the honour of being alone with him, he took occasion one day to ask the cause of his remaining so long in the same place; at this moment Schanzabeh began to bellow very loudly, which alarmed the lion, and produced in him a sensation which he refused to explain to Dimna, though the latter did not fail to observe it; and therefore asked the lion, if the noise which he had heard had frightened him; and being answered in the affirmative, he expressed his surprise, that so trifling an occurrence, which really did not deserve attention, should have obliged the king to forsake his usual habits. The lion, not being yet at his ease, asked for some farther explanation, Dimna proceeded thus: A fox came once into a wood where a drum was hanging in a tree, and as often as the wind blew amongst the branches, the drum sounded, which astonished the fox on account of the unusual noise which he heard; but having advanced towards it, he was struck at its size and anticipated a delicious repast: at length having got it into his possession, he turned it about till he broke it, and discovered it to be hollow, and that notwithstanding its bulk, and the distinctness of the sound which it sent forth, it was weak and contemptible: he then begged permission of the king to go and explore the nature of the noise which had surprised him, declaring it as his opinion that it would turn out to be no real subject for alarm: and the king consented. Upon this Dimna immediately set out in search of Schanzabeh; and he had scarcely left the presence of the lion, before the latter began to reflect on what had passed, and to repent of having entrusted him with the mission. For this Dimna, said he to himself, was in a very low situation, and if he has carried away with him the notion, that his pretensions have been passed over, and others preferred before him, whose claims were not so great as his own, or that any injustice has been practised towards him, and he has been made to suffer unmerited oppression and persecution; if his ruling passions be cupidity and criminal ambition, for the gratification of which he has been guilty of crimes of which he dreads the punishment; or if his hopes of aggrandizement are built on the dishonour of the king, and his schemes of advancement incompatible with the nation’s prosperity, which would render him an acceptable and ready tool in foreign hands; if all or any of these suppositions be true, I have been wrong in placing confidence in one, who to the feelings of wounded pride and the sentiments of hatred and meditated revenge, unites not only the talents which are necessary to carry his purposes into execution, but at the same time the art of concealing his treachery under the mask of patriotism and disinterestedness; and what security have I that his hostile disposition towards me will not find support and encouragement with some enemy more powerful than I am, who is probably the author of the noise which has alarmed me, and into whose service he will enter! At this moment he advanced a few steps, and saw Dimna returning to him, and became more composed; then he went back to his place, and as soon as Dimna reached him, he enquired of him what he had seen, and received for answer, that it was nothing but a bull which had made the noise. The Lion. And did he appear to be possessed of great strength? Dimna. By no means. I advanced towards him, and addressed him as my equal, but he paid no attention to me. The Lion. You must not be deceived by appearances, for the strong gale which passes harmless over the tender shrub, breaks by its violence the tall palm. Dimna. Be not alarmed, O king! I will reduce him to submission, if your majesty pleases. The lion assented to the proposal, and Dimna returned to the bull, and told him, that he had received the commands of the lion to conduct him into his presence, and assured him of pardon for his past offence in having omitted to present himself before the king, not forgetting to mention the strict injunctions he had received, to report without delay any refusal on his part to appear. Schanzabeh having asked for some further account of the lion, Dimna informed him, that he was the king of the beasts, and that his residence, where he was surrounded by his numerous attendants, was at no great distance. This account alarmed Schanzabeh not a little; but having obtained repeated assurances of safe conduct and protection against all danger from the beasts, he accompanied Dimna to the lion, who received him very graciously, asked him how long he had been in the country, and what business brought him thither; upon which Schanzabeh related his whole history, which pleased the lion so much, that he desired him to remain with him, and promised to raise him to dignities and honour. After this the lion became so intimate with Schanzabeh, that he made him the depositary of his secrets, and consulted him on every occasion, and his admiration of him continually increased. Now when Dimna perceived that the bull was more honoured by the lion than he and his companions, that he had become his bosom friend, his associate in retirement, and the partner of all his pleasures, his envy and anger so far got the better of his prudence, that he ventured to complain aloud, and reproached himself with weakness in neglecting his own interest for the sake of serving the lion, and in having been himself the cause of the advancement of his rival; and when his lamentations reached the ear of Kalila, the consolation which he received from his brother was confined to the remark, that this was precisely the case with the monk, whose history, at the request of Dimna, Kalila related in the following manner. There was a monk, who on some occasion received from a sovereign as a present a magnificent robe, of which a thief, whose wardrobe was not very well furnished, having seen and admired it, determined in his own mind to get possession; for this purpose he came to the monk, and professing the greatest admiration of his learning, begged to receive the benefit of his instruction; to which the monk assented, and received him into his house, till at length the thief so far got the better of his unsuspecting benefactor, that he went off with his prize. The suspicions of the monk as soon as he missed his robe fell upon his pupil, and he lost no time in commencing a search after his stolen goods; and as he was travelling along, he passed by two goats, who were fighting, whilst a fox was licking up the blood which flowed from their wounds; who in his turn was so furiously attacked by two other goats, that in a very short time they killed him. After this the monk continued his journey, and arrived at a town, where, not finding any inn to lodge him, he took up his quarters in the house of a woman, who had a young girl in her service, whose attractions and beauty she made no scruple of sacrificing to her own private gain. The young woman having formed a sincere and strong attachment, her mistress had determined by the murder of the lover on the very night on which the monk arrived, to prevent the loss of her villanous traffic: for this purpose, when the lover came to visit his future bride, the woman placed before him an intoxicating liquor, which having drunk of, he soon fell into a sound sleep: she then took a reed, and was in the act of blowing the poison with which she had previously filled it into his ear, when suddenly and unintentionally catching her breath, the poison returned into her own throat, and caused instant death. Now all this having passed in the presence of the monk, he lost no time in quitting his lodging, and in looking out for another, and at last established himself with a shoemaker, who being informed by his wife of the arrival of his guest, desired her to pay him every attention in her power, and to make his excuses for his unavoidable absence, as he was engaged to a party at a friend’s house. It happened that the wife of the shoemaker had a secret intrigue, and had made the wife of a surgeon her confidant; she therefore immediately sent to her obliging female friend, requesting her to lose no time in desiring her lover to come, and to assure him, that he need be under no apprehension of a surprise, as her husband, if he returned at all in the evening, would have no notion from excess of drinking of what was passing in his house. The lover obeyed the summons, and was waiting below for admission when the shoemaker arrived, who notwithstanding the state of intoxication in which he was, had still sufficiently the use of his eyes to discover a person at his door, and enough reason left to guess the object of his being there: he therefore hastened as well as he could to his wife, and without entering into any explanation, began to beat her unmercifully, and having tied her to a pillar in the house, tottered into bed. Shortly after the wife of the surgeon came to her, told her that her lover had been a long time waiting for her, and asked her the meaning of her present situation; upon which the wife of the shoemaker implored her compassion, entreated her to suffer herself to be bound to the pillar in her stead, that she might go to her lover, and promised to return as quickly as possible. The surgeon’s wife good humouredly consented, and set her friend at liberty. Now, as ill luck would have it, the shoemaker awoke before his wife returned, and having called her twice by her name without receiving any answer, (for the surgeon’s wife did not choose to betray herself,) he went to her in a great rage, and with a knife cut off her nose, desiring her to make a present of it to her lover. At length the real culprit arrived, and when she saw how her husband had treated the wife of the surgeon, she was distressed beyond measure; but no other relief was at hand than immediately to release her, and let her go home with the loss of her nose; and this also passed under the eyes of the monk. Then the wife of the shoemaker began to load her husband with the most bitter imprecations, reproached him with his barbarity towards her, and desired him to look and see how gracious Providence had been to her in restoring her nose. On hearing this the husband immediately lighted a candle, and seeing to his astonishment his wife with her nose, he begged pardon for his conduct, and showed signs of the deepest contrition for what he had done. In the mean time the wife of the surgeon, who had now reached her own home, was occupied in thinking how she should account to her husband and family for the loss of her nose, and how she might remove any unfavourable impression respecting her conduct, to which this strange appearance would give rise. For the present, she went to bed; and in the morning when her husband awoke, he desired her to fetch him his instruments, as he had been sent for by a patient; upon which she got up, and brought him his razor, and upon his asking for all of them, she left the room, but returned again with the razor; which put her husband into such a violent passion, that he threw it at her, and she immediately fell upon the ground, crying out, O! my nose! O! my nose! till her screams brought all the people of the house about her; who, seeing the state in which she was, seized the surgeon, and led him away to the judge, who having interrogated him as to the cause of his having treated his wife in so barbarous a manner, and hearing no sufficient reason alleged in justification, ordered a similar operation to be performed on him; which was in the act of taking place, when the monk suddenly appearing said that he would explain the whole business. The thief, said he, was not the occasion of the robbery of which I have to complain, but my loss must be attributed to my own indiscretion in admitting into my society a stranger of whose character and habits I had no previous knowledge; neither can the death of the fox be laid to the charge of the two goats, but to his own interference in a quarrel, with which he had nothing to do; in the same manner the death of the woman who made a traffic of female virtue and innocence, which immediately followed upon her swallowing the poison, must be traced to her own deliberate purpose of murder; and, lastly, it is not the surgeon who was the occasion of the loss of his wife’s nose, but her own foolishness in promoting an unlawful connection.

Dimna observed, that he had heard this story before and was ready to allow, that his own misfortune might perhaps with justice be laid to his own account: he wished however to determine what under the present circumstances was the best thing to be done; and Kalila having expressed a wish to know what he proposed doing, he spoke in the following terms: I have not presumption enough to imagine that I shall be in greater favour with the lion, than Schanzabeh; I would therefore willingly return to my former condition; for a prudent man has occasion to use the utmost pains and diligence in three different ways. In the first place he should ever pay a due regard to the accidental as well as more weighty circumstances which in former times may have been the means of his happiness, or have brought about his ill luck, with a view to pave the way by the experience he has acquired for the return of his good fortune, and to ward off any sudden reverse: his second object of solicitude is how to secure the advantages of which he is actually in possession, by the exclusion of every thing which may hazard their existence: and in the third place he should so regulate his conduct according to the probable chances of the world, that no favourable opportunity of improving his temporal condition may be neglected, or the means of preventing the possibility of any unexpected danger elude his foresight: therefore at present there remains for me no other resource, disappointed as I have been in my hopes and expectations, than to destroy by force or stratagem this eater of grass; which will not only recover for me the favour of the lion, but be of service, I think, to the king in obviating the mischief which may be expected to result from the too great intimacy with which he has honoured the bull. Kalila having here observed that he saw no danger that was likely to accrue from the manner in which the lion treated Schanzabeh; Dimna instantly replied, that there were several impediments to the good administration of public affairs which might be mentioned; for instance, favouritism, which founded generally on caprice or some worse motive, gives the reins of government into feeble if not polluted hands, to the proscription of those faithful counsellors of a nation, who have courage to refuse becoming the tools of the passions of the prince: another evil of the body politic is that animosity of parties, which is continually keeping up a petty warfare in the state: a third source of mischief is a profligacy of manners, when respect for decency in the prince and the higher circles has fled before the fascinating and authorized display of female attractions, and the severity of business is lulled to sleep in the lap of luxurious amusement and excess: the prevalence of these disorders gives rise to and nurtures those unfeeling and inhuman passions, by which calumny is engendered, and the tongue sends forth its venom to taint the bliss and satisfaction of conspicuous worth; or the arm is lifted up to acts of violence and oppression; or dangers arise from the practice of severity where gentleness was called for; or of indulgence where severity would have been a virtue; or, lastly, the hand of time becomes visible in the age and infirmities of the sovereign, or in his exposure to the plagues of famine or war; and the conduct of the lion, continued he, in the preference which he has shown to the bull, will prove in all probability a source of some of the dangers which I have enumerated. Granted, replied Kalila; but how will you contrive to get the better of the bull, considering the reputation which he enjoys? You seem to draw your conclusions, answered Dimna, from the apparent weakness of my person, compared with that of the bull, without reflecting that bodily force is not always the criterion of success; on the contrary, contrivance and skill have been often known to succeed where the greatest exertion of strength would have failed, as was exemplified by the manner in which a crow destroyed a serpent, as related in the following story.

A crow bad made her nest in a tree upon a mountain, at no great distance from which was the hole of a serpent; and the serpent, as soon as the crow had hatched her young, came and took them away, and ate them. This very much distressed the crow, who went and made her complaint to a jackal, who was her friend, and asked his opinion of what she proposed to do, which was, when the serpent was asleep, to put out his eyes, and get rid of her enemy. The jackal did not at all approve of this plan, but advised the crow to think of some other method, which would be attended with less danger; because if she proceeded as she had mentioned, she might possibly experience the fate of the swan, who perished in his attempt to kill a crab. This swan had established himself in a place, where there was a good deal of water, where he lived and grew old; till at length being unable through age any longer to catch his prey, he was tormented by the dread of dying from hunger: at that moment a crab passed by, who, seeing the distress of the swan, enquired the reason of it; and was informed by the swan, that having one day overheard two fishermen talking of the quantity of fish in that place, and laying plans for catching them, he was uneasy about his future livelihood. Upon this the crab went to the fish, who happened for some reason or other to be assembled together, and communicated to them what he had heard; they therefore immediately sent a deputation to the swan, to ask his advice in their present dilemma, the greatness of the apparent danger outweighing all prudential considerations of the risk they were running, in placing so much confidence in an enemy. The swan informed them, that the only means of escaping from the fate which awaited them would be to retire to a pool in the neighbourhood, where there was plenty of food, and at the same time he offered his services to carry them thither; which being accepted, he took two upon his back every day, and went with them to a hill, and there ate them. But one morning, when he came as usual to carry off his two fish, the crab met him, and, expressing his apprehensions for his own safety in his present abode, entreated him to transport him also to the pool, whither he had carried the fish; upon which the swan made him get upon his back, and transported him to the same spot But the crab looking about, and seeing a number of bones lying upon the ground, began to have suspicions of his supposed friend; and reasoning with himself, that his situation could not be made worse by his attempting to defend himself, he fastened with his claws on the neck of the swan, and strangled him, and then went to the fish which remained, and acquainted them with what he had done: and this story, continued the jackal, is a proof that the cunning person is often taken in his own snares: however, I will point out to you a method, if you think you are equal to the execution, by which you may infallibly destroy the serpent, without any danger to yourself. This raised the curiosity of the crow, to know what her friend would recommend to her, who proceeded thus: My advice consists in this, that you should look as you are flying about for some part of a woman’s dress, which having taken up in your mouth, you must continue just so high above the heads of the passengers, that they may be able to discover what it is you are carrying away; and when you are over the spot where the serpent is, you must drop it so as to attract the notice of the persons who are near; who running up to recover the stolen property, will deliver you from your enemy. The crow did as she had been directed, and continued hovering in the air, till she discovered a woman of rank, who was taking her bath on the top of a house, and had laid her clothes and trinkets aside; so she darted suddenly down, and carried off a necklace; and as she flew away with it, the persons who had witnessed what had passed, followed without ever losing sight of her, till in the end they saw her drop the necklace; and immediately coming up found the serpent, and killed it.

Kalila here remarked to his brother Dimna, that if the bull’s only quality was personal strength, he might be mastered by skill and address; but if to bodily force were united understanding and judgment, the task would be more difficult: Not so difficult as you seem to imagine, said Dimna, for I can always find resources in my own conduct and prudent management; and that you may not think mine a hopeless case, I beg of you to listen to the story of the hare and the lion. A lion was king of a great forest, plentifully supplied with water, and filled with beasts of every description; who living in a state of constant uneasiness, at last sent to the lion, to propose furnishing him every morning with a piece of game for his breakfast, on condition that he would let them roam about unmolested. The lion was pleased with this offer, and entered into the agreement, and during some time the beasts regularly performed their engagement; till at length it fell to the lot of a hare to be sent to the lion, who begged of her companions to indulge her in one request, and she would deliver them from all dread of the lion in future: the beasts complied, and desired in consequence the animal which was to accompany her to allow her to loiter on the road; which she having done beyond the hour of the lion’s meal, at last presented herself before him, and found him in a violent rage at the delay which had taken place; when to appease his anger she told him that she had been sent by the beasts with a hare for his breakfast, but that a lion, which met them on the road, had carried off her companion, declaring that he was the lord of the wood; and that upon her representing to him that it was food which the beasts had sent to their king, he broke out into the most unbecoming abuse of his majesty. Upon this the lion desired the hare to conduct him to the haunt of his rival, and she led him to the brink of a deep well full of water, and told him it was there; upon which the lion looking down, and seeing his own shadow and the shadow of the hare, had no suspicions of being deceived, and immediately sprung, as he imagined, upon his enemy, and was drowned; and the hare returned to the beasts, and acquainted them with her success. Kalila told Dimna, that if he could effect the disgrace and ruin of the bull without compromising the honour and safety of the lion, the injuries which they had both experienced from him would fully justify the measure; but if on the other hand his purpose of revenge would be followed by the destruction of the lion, he should oppose its execution, as being an act of ingratitude and treachery in them.

After this, Dimna passed many days without approaching the lion; at last he came privately to him, and was asked what had kept him so long away; if he had any good reason for so doing, or if any thing unexpected or unforeseen had taken place. Dimna replied that this was really the case; though he felt great reluctance to mention it, as its relation could not fail to be as disagreeable to the lion, as it would be painful to himself. You will do me the justice, O king, to believe, continued he, that I am the unwilling reporter of unwelcome news, and such as even my approved fidelity, and the evidences which I have given of my zeal in your service, will scarcely render credible; though I trust your majesty will be satisfied with these vouchers for the truth of what I assert. And when I consider the obligations which my relation, as subject, imposes upon me, I should think it a dereliction of my duty, and little better than an act of treason, if, even at the risk of not being believed, and without an express command, I delayed any longer to make my report.

This commencement increased the anxiety of the lion to bear more, upon which Dimna continued as follows. A person with whom I am intimately acquainted, and upon whose veracity I can rely, has informed me, that Schanzabeh has often private meetings with some of the principal persons of your court, to whom he has declared to have observed in you infallible marks of declining strength, and of approaching incapacity for governing; from which I conclude, that, if he has not really the project of deposing you by treachery or violence, he is at least preparing the way for mounting the throne at your death; indeed his whole conduct furnishes strong evidence that he has this in view. Now it is an old saying, that a sovereign, who is surrounded by dangerous subjects, if he does not by a bold stroke put an end at once to the conspiracies which are forming against him, will at last fall a victim to his own timidity and want of resolution; and what on the present occasion makes the bull the more to be feared, are the consummate skill and knowledge of business which he possesses: and however improbable the circumstance to which I have alluded may at this moment appear, it is nevertheless the business of a wise man to take his precautions in time, before any daring enterprise becomes ripe for execution. On this head men may be divided into three classes: in the first place of two provident men, there is one, who on the occurrence of an event, which although not quite unforeseen, was still little expected, does not immediately take fright, and through distraction become unable to act, but without hesitation devises means of escaping from his difficulties: then he, who is gifted with a greater degree of foresight, though rarely to be met with, not only follows the approach of evil step by step, but even represents the danger which threatens him to be greater than it really is, and takes his measures accordingly with so much prudence and address, that he may be said to have stifled the mischief in its birth: on the other hand the weak and irresolute man fluctuates between the illusions of hope, and the visions of fear; between the phantoms of his wishes, and the promises of his imagination, till his protracted indecision occasions his ruin: but the truth of this will be best illustrated by the history of the three fish, which were remarkable, the one for its shrewdness, the second for possessing this quality in a greater degree, and the third for its folly. These fish were in a pond on the top of a hill, very difficult of access, and a stream had its source near the same spot. Now it happened that some fishermen having come to fish in the stream, discovered the pond, and agreed to try their luck in it. The fish overheard their conversation, and the first of the three immediately taking alarm, thought of nothing else but of escaping, and therefore at once passed into the stream at the place where the water flowed from it into the pond: the second remained where it was, but seeing that the fishermen began to prepare their nets, and having therefore no longer any doubt of what they were going to do, wished also to escape as the first had done, but found to its great surprise that the fishermen had stopped up the hole; it then began to accuse itself of want of foresight and neglect; but recollecting that it is the prerogative of good sense to impart courage, and to banish all unreasonable fear, it pretended to be dead, and remained floating on the water, turning alternately upon its back and its belly, till at length the fishermen took it out of the water, and threw it upon the ground between the stream and the pond, upon which it gave a sudden spring, jumped into the river, and swam away: but the foolish fish continued swimming about unconcerned in the pond, till it was taken in the net.

The lion told Dimna, that he understood his meaning, but did not think the bull would be able to deceive him, or indeed that he was capable of intending him any hurt: that for his own part, he had no injustice to reproach himself with; on the contrary, had always made the bull a partaker of his good fortune. The man of low origin, replied Dimna, will remain true to his engagements, and show himself to be an useful servant and faithful counsellor, as long as it suits his views. When the rank and consideration which he enjoys leave him no longer any superior, he advances higher in his pretensions, and will not even brook an equal: this is especially the case with those, who having no fund of real merit to support their claims, have recourse for their advancement to the basest arts; and whilst they betray in their conduct the violence which is done to their natural disposition by the semblance of integrity, which they are obliged to assume, and the reluctance with which they discharge the duties, which motives of interest alone prompt them to fulfil, they await the first ray of success which dawns upon the schemes of their ambition and culpable aggrandisement, to throw off the mask, and display their character in all its innate turpitude; as the tail of a dog which is tied up in order to make it straight, becomes crooked again as soon as the cord by which it was bound is removed; and the sovereign who rejects the advice of his counsellors, because the truths which they wish to inculcate do not please his ear, forfeits all claim to good sense and judgment, and can only be compared to the dying patient, who throws away the medicine which his physician has prescribed, and will swallow nothing but what he himself chooses. Moreover it is the duty of a sovereign in the government of his kingdom to direct his attention to what may increase the nation’s prosperity and his own honour, and keep off from his people and himself injury and disgrace: the most faithful counsellor is he who gives his advice with freedom; the most desirable event that whose result is beneficial; the most respectable woman is she whose conduct leaves nothing to be desired by her husband; the sweetest praise is the approbation of good men; the brightest gems in a king’s crown are humanity and mildness; and the noblest quality of man’s heart is the fear of God: and it has been observed, that the man who has fire for his pillow, and is obliged to lie upon serpents, is in a more enviable situation than another, who knowing that his friend is exasperated against him, and aiming at his ruin, yet remains at his ease and unconcerned: on the other hand, the weakest king is he who occupies himself with trifles, without paying any regard to future events, and who like the furious elephant, giving himself up blindly to the guidance of his passions, never fails, if affairs through his own mismanagement or idle indifference go wrong, either to charge his people with treason, or his ministers with incapacity.

The lion observed to Dimna that his language was strong, that however it was the privilege of a public servant of unimpeached fidelity to demand attention to his opinion; but, says he, it will not be in the power of Schanzabeh to do me any mischief, though he should really have these hostile intentions; for, in the first place, his food is grass and mine flesh, and therefore I have it every moment in my power to make a meal of him; and then I cannot suppose him capable of such base ingratitude, as to repay the confidence with which I have honoured him, and the consideration which he enjoys at my hands, by the ruin of his benefactor; and I should justly expose myself to the imputation of ignorance in my choice, and of insincerity and perfidy in the protection which I promised him, were I to treat him otherwise than as I have hitherto done. Let not the king deceive himself, answered Dimna, in supposing that the difference of food can make Schanzabeh cease to be an object of suspicion; what he cannot accomplish by himself, he will contrive means to effect by the assistance of others; and true it is, that a person whose character is unknown is a dangerous guest for even an hour; and I hope the king may not meet with a similar fate to what the bug experienced from the flea, as is thus related: A bug had taken up his quarters in the bed of a rich man, who sleeping very soundly was neither sensible of its travels over his body, nor even felt it when it was sucking his blood; the bug having continued this during sometime, invited a flea one night to come, and partake of his comfortable birth and good fare, which the latter accepted, and as soon as the man retired to bed, it bit him, and being awakened by the pain he got up, and ordered his bed to be searched; but on examination nothing could be found but the bug, which being caught was put to death in the usual way, and the flea escaped unhurt: and it is thus with a wicked man, who, if he is himself too weak to become the instrument of injury, at least contrives to bring it about by his skill and management; and this will probably be the line of conduct which Schanzabeh will adopt; wherefore it would be right, if not to take immediate and open precautions against him, at least to be on your guard against that which he will excite others to do.

These last words of Dimna appeared to make some impression upon the lion, who asked him in consequence what he would recommend to be done. A tooth, he replied, which is decayed will never cease to ache, as long as it remains in the mouth; nor is there any other remedy for the disagreeable sensation arising from having eaten unwholesome food, than that which will remove it from the stomach, which is the seat of the disorder. The application of these maxims to the case of a dangerous enemy points at once to the necessity of taking away his life. The lion told Dimna, that the effect of his discourse was by no means favourable to Schanzabeh, and seeing that it was no longer safe to have him near his person, he would send for him, and tell him what should be the place of his retirement: but this determination was embarrassing to Dimna, who was well aware, that when the lion saw Schanzabeh, and heard his defence, he would discover the falsehood of the accusations against him, and that his own conduct would appear in its true light; he therefore endeavoured to dissuade the lion from sending for Schanzabeh, which he represented as a very imprudent step to take, for that Schanzabeh, suspecting from this what was in agitation, would assume a haughty tone, and behave disrespectfully towards the king, or would perhaps make his escape with feelings of vengeance in his heart, and the power of making it appear, that he had been treated with harshness and severity; for it is not prudent in a sovereign, said he, to let it be seen that the punishment of any one has been determined upon, before his guilt has been established by trial; and though for an open crime against the state a public punishment is allotted, it is perfectly consonant to justice that a concealed and dark plot should be counteracted by secret means. Upon this the king observed, that the punishment of a person on bare suspicion without any positive proof of guilt is a manifest injustice, and a stretch of arbitrary power. If these are the sentiments of the king, answered Dimna, I hope at least that he will not suffer Schanzabeh to approach him without being prepared against the arts which he will employ to prove his innocence, and which may possibly not be confined to words, but extended to some act of violence highly insulting to the dignity of your majesty; and I am persuaded that the king will discover from his manner and deportment, notwithstanding his attempts to conceal it, that some great scheme is at the bottom of his thoughts: the surest signs will be, if he betrays in his behaviour the marks of great inward agitation, by changing countenance at the sight of your majesty, and by tossing his head, like a bull who is going to butt with his horns. The lion assured Dimna that he would be fully upon his guard, and should require no other proofs of the evil intentions of Schanzabeh, than the symptoms which had been noticed.

Dimna having so far succeeded in his endeavours to prepossess the lion against the bull, determined to go immediately to Schanzabeh, in order, if possible, to exasperate him against the lion, and leave an ominous impression on his mind with respect to the reception which he was likely to meet with; for he was afraid, if what had already passed should reach the bull’s ears, that it would defeat his whole purpose of ruining him: he therefore begged permission of the king to go to Schanzabeh, promising to make a report of all that he should see and hear, that might be worth knowing for the sake of the intended interview; and having obtained the consent of the lion, he went to the bull with all the appearance of a person in the greatest sorrow and affliction; and being asked, what had been the occasion of his long absence, which was calculated to raise some doubts of the sincerity of his friendship, he answered in a mysterious manner, that there was no security for a person, who was entirely dependent on the will of another, and whose existence was in the hands of one in whom no trust or confidence could be placed, and where not a moment passed, that he was not threatened with the loss of property and life. You ask me, Schanzabeh, what has brought me into this state of despair; nothing certainly, but what was determined by fate, to whose decision we must all submit. It is written in the book of destiny, that the great man should be insolent, the fortunate become indifferent and careless, the intemperate subject to loss and disappointment, and the lover of women deceived; that he who asks a pittance of the covetous should meet with a refusal, that the companion of the wicked should experience no peace of mind, nor the favourite of a king place reliance on the security which he appears to enjoy; for kings have not been unaptly compared, on account of the unsteadiness of their attachment to those whom they have honoured with their protection and friendship, and for the facility with which they cast off their old associates, to a coquet who dismisses one lover with the same ease and indifference, with which she favours the assiduities of another. Schanzabeh here remarked to Dimna, that from the tenour of his observations he appeared to be alarmed at something which had passed between him and the lion. True, said Dimna, but it is not a matter which is personal to me. In whom then, asked Schanzabeh, do you take so lively an interest? You shall know all, said Dimna. In the first place, you have not forgotten what passed between us on the first day of our meeting, and the proofs of regard which I then showed you: the same sentiments oblige me now to make you acquainted with the fruits of my observation of the conduct of the lion, and to point out to you the dangers to which you are exposed from your relations to him. I have been informed by a person of great respectability, and who is incapable of asserting what is not true, that the lion on one occasion remarked to some of his attendants, that the fatness of the bull surprised him, and that, as he had no longer any occasion for his services, he was determined to kill him, and invite his court to partake of his flesh. I no sooner heard this, than, knowing the irascibility of the lion’s temper and his bad faith, I made up my mind to come to you and discharge a debt of friendship, by putting you upon your guard against the snare which is laying for you.

Schanzabeh no sooner heard these words, which the winning frankness of Dimna made him believe without a moment’s hesitation, than he expressed his anxiety to know, on what account the lion could possibly be angry with him, as he was not conscious of ever having committed any crime against him or any one in his service, and therefore could only attribute to the artful and false representations of some secret enemy the displeasure which he had excited; for the society of the wicked, said he, always begets a bad opinion of the good; and the lion, by listening on this occasion to the calumnies which have been circulated against an innocent person, and fixing his suspicions in the quarter where they are unmerited, has committed a mistake like that of the goose, who seeing the reflection of a star in the water, thought it was a fish, and endeavoured to catch it, and having repeated the attempt several times, discovered its error; but observing on the morrow what was really a fish, and concluding it to be only what it had seen on the preceding day, made no exertion to get possession of it: and in the same manner the lion, having on some former occasion been deceived by some worthless courtier, has lent a ready ear to all the slanderous reports concerning me, and I who am innocent am made to suffer, because the world has not at all times been as free from fault as myself; but if no report injurious to my reputation has reached the lion, and he is acting entirely from his own caprice, his conduct is the more unaccountable, because it is painful to think that the best services of a friend should meet with no adequate return, and doubly so to find them repaid with ingratitude and persecution. When the anger which a person conceives against his friend is well founded, satisfaction is at no great distance, and reconciliation speedily follows: but when the occasion of dislike has taken its rise in some imaginary affront, all hopes of reconciliation are at an end; and how can there be any good fellowship in the world, if friends, with a view of not giving offence to those with whom they are on habits of intimacy, are obliged to be constantly on their guard against what may have the most remote tendency to excite displeasure. But to this rigid observance of rules in the business of the heart, the man of feeling and sense will offer every mitigation in his power; he will consider, whether the friend with whom he has reason to be dissatisfied has erred through inadvertence or design, and whether the pardon of his fault would be followed by consequences which it would be improper to overlook; in a word, his aim is to find out a motive not for condemnation, but for reconciliation and forgiveness. Now I am not aware of having furnished the lion with any reasons for being dissatisfied with me, unless it is that I have sometimes held a contrary opinion from him, which, however injudicious on my part, was still the result of what I considered to be the faithful discharge of my duties towards him: if unfortunately he has referred my conduct to other motives, if he has ascribed it to a want of due respect, and a bold opposition of his will and pleasure, I do not plead guilty to the accusation, for in the advice which I have given, his interest and the claims of justice have ever been my guides; and so far from communicating to any of his ministers or his court what on these occasions has passed between us, I have avoided every chance of publicity, by choosing the moment when I have had the honour of being alone with him, to urge my reasons in respectful but at the same time dignified language, knowing, that whoever looks for complaisance from his friends in the advice which they give, or from wise men in their judgment about a difficult matter, or expects that the physician should accommodate the medicine to his palate, and not to the nature of his disease, pays dearly, and is alone answerable, for the consequences of his unreasonable demands; but if the sudden change in the king’s sentiments may not be traced to this cause, it may possibly have its source in a state of mind produced by his approaching end, so uncertain is the friendship of sovereigns, and so speedily is their favour often withdrawn in a moment, when they are lavishing marks of esteem: or possibly, however incredible it may appear, my real merit, which the king has witnessed, may be the cause of my disgrace, unless in short I must attribute it to the inevitable effect of destiny. It is fate, which robs the lion of his strength, and lays him in the dust; it places the timid man on the back of the fierce elephant, and gives victory over the venomous serpent; it bestows foresight on the improvident, adds energy to the sluggard, and enlarges the bounty of the miser; it imparts boldness to the coward, and damps the ardour of the rash, according to an uninterrupted and necessary chain of causes and effects.

Here Dimna assured Schanzabeh, that the lion had not been excited against him by the machinations of wicked people, nor was it the result of irritability arising from a morbid state of body, or any accidental cause; but of the suggestions of his own bad disposition, which took delight in treachery and deceit, but which in the end would find the sweetness of crime converted into the bitterness of death. It is I, replied Schanzabeh, who am destined to see the charms of the life which I have hitherto led, end in my destruction; like the bee, who having settled upon the water lily, was detained so long by the agreeableness of its smell and taste, that the night came on, and the flower closed upon and killed her; and so it is in the world, whoever is not contented with the measure of good things which falls to his lot, and such as his wants require, but raises his eye to objects far above him, without looking to the consequences of his immoderate desires, resembles the fly, which was not satisfied with the food which the trees and herbs afforded, but wished to taste the water, which flowed from the elephant’s ear, and was killed for its temerity. Whoever bestows his friendship on an unworthy object, is sowing his seed in a salt soil; and whoever gives his advice unasked from motives of self-satisfaction and complacency, maybe said to throw away his words upon the dead, or to talk to the dumb.

Dimna having begged Schanzabeh not to waste his time in useless exclamations, but to take measures for his safety; How is it possible, he replied, if the lion is determined to destroy me? You forget what you have told me of the badness of his heart; or supposing that he is really not such as you have represented him to be, yet if those who are about him, are resolved at all risks to effect my ruin, they have it certainly in their power; for the innocent man, however strong he may be, can never prevail over perfidy and villany, when they are leagued against them. The camel, who was killed by the united efforts of the wolf, the crow, and the jackal, proves the truth of this remark, as exemplified in the following story. A lion lived in a wood near a high road, and had for his companions a wolf, a crow, and a jackal; and it happened, as a man was passing along the road with a number of camels, that one of them stayed behind, and went into the wood to the lion; and being asked whence he came, and what his business was, he answered, from such and such a place, and that he awaited the commands of the king. Then the lion promised him, that he should remain in perfect security, and have every thing that he could require for his support; and things continued on this footing during some time. It happened after this that the lion went out one morning in search of prey, and met with an elephant, from whom he had great difficulty to escape; and even this not without having been severely wounded, so much so, that he was scarcely able, through weakness from the loss of blood, to crawl to his den, where he lay many days unable to move, and in danger of starving from want of food, which it was out of his power to procure for himself; and the wolf, the crow, and the jackal fared equally ill, for they were in the habit of feeding upon what the lion left. The lion, observing that they grew thin, expressed his concern at their being deprived of their victuals; but they assured him that it was on his and not on their own account that they felt uneasy; upon which he thanked them for this proof of attachment, and desired them to go out and look for some game for him and themselves. Upon this the wolf, the crow, and the jackal, went forth, and consulted together what was to be done, and their thoughts fell upon contriving some expedient how to kill the camel, who would be a good meal for themselves and the lion. The jackal observed that the plan would be attended with much difficulty, because the lion had promised the camel his protection. The crow said, if this is the only obstacle, it may be soon removed, and I will undertake to procure the lion’s consent: so he went to him immediately, and being asked what success they had had, replied, that the state of weakness in which he and his two companions were, from having fasted so long, had made it quite impossible for them to catch any game in the woods, but that they only waited for his permission to put into execution a scheme which they had formed for killing the camel, who was passing his time unprofitably amongst them in idleness and inactivity, without making any return whatever for the kindness which he had experienced. At this proposition the lion grew angry, and reproached the crow with his bad faith and shallow pretexts, and asked how he could have the audacity to come to him with such a proposal, which was at variance with the promise of security given to the camel; and he added, that the most enlarged charity never found a greater recompense than the inward satisfaction which a generous soul feels in having quieted the alarm and apprehension of a fellow creature in distress, and that the camel had never in the slightest degree excited his displeasure, or given him reason to repent of the reception which he had afforded him. The crow told the lion he was prepared for what he had said, as he knew the goodness of his heart, but that policy commanded and justice did not forbid, that the interest of the multitude should be preferred before that of an individual, and a single life offered up for the sake of many; that it was by no means uncommon for a whole family to be sacrificed in order to save a tribe, which on a greater occasion might itself become the price of the city’s security; add to this, said he, the example of many a country, which has been unable to ransom its sovereign on any other terms than the captivity of thousands of its inhabitants, and the king will surely see the necessity, in the circumstances in which he is placed, of listening to what I have proposed, to which at the same time he will not appear to have been a party, but the execution will be so artfully and prudently contrived that he will reap the profit without having been guilty of any crime in procuring it.

The lion having made no answer to this last remark, the crow was convinced that his aversion to the scheme was insensibly abating; upon which he hastened to his companions, and informing them of what had taken place, concerted with them, that they should meet together with the camel at the lion’s den; and showing signs of the deepest sorrow and affliction at the state in which they found him, should offer themselves in turn as food for their master, agreeing at the same time that the proposal of the first should be met by objections on the part of the other two, and so successively. The plan being thus previously arranged, they went to the lion, and the crow began by observing to him, that his weak and forlorn condition had not escaped the notice of himself and companions, and that they felt it to be their duty, to offer their lives for the reestablishment of the health and strength of one, to whom they were so much indebted, and on whom they were entirely dependent; and concluded by entreating the king to accept of him as a meal. Upon this the wolf and the jackal remarked to the crow, that it was presumption in him to suppose that he could satisfy the king with so small a morsel. The jackal then went through the same ceremony of pretended devotion to the service of the lion, and met with similar opposition from the wolf and crow, who observed to him, that his flesh stunk. To the apparently disinterested offer of the wolf, the crow and the jackal replied, that according to the saying of the physicians the eating of wolves’ flesh occasioned instant death. The camel, who had listened attentively to all that was said, and did not doubt that an excuse would be found for rejecting a similar offer on his part, thought this a favourable opportunity of proving to the lion his sense of gratitude for the favours he had received, and for securing their continuance, and observed, that the reasons which had been advanced against eating the crow, the jackal, or the wolf, did not apply to him; that his flesh was wholesome and easy of digestion, and there would be enough both for the king and his attendants. The crow, the jackal, and the wolf, contrary to the expectations of the camel, agreed with him in what he had said, and complimenting him on the nobleness and generosity of his conduct, instantly rushed upon him, and killed him. You see therefore, continued Schanzabeh, that if the companions of the lion are really bent on my destruction, neither my own exertions, nor even the good will of the king, will be of any service to me. The best of sovereigns is he, who is just in his actions, and this I believe to be a characteristic of the lion; but how easily may his favourable sentiments towards me be changed by the reports and insinuations which are industriously circulated to my prejudice, for the effect of calumny repeatedly uttered on the mind of a person of apparently the most unperverted rectitude and unconquerable candour, is no less certain, than that of the drop of water which successively falling upon a stone gradually though imperceptibly penetrates its hard surface. What then, says Dimna, do you think of doing? Nothing remains for me, answered Schanzabeh, if I am obliged to try my strength with the lion, but to do my utmost to come off victorious from the struggle. The prayer of the devout is a worthy homage, the gift of the charitable a meritorious offering, and the piety of the religious man an acceptable sacrifice; but the reward which attends the successful efforts of one who is contending for his life in a good cause, is infinitely greater. Dimna said, that it was the height of folly to expose one’s self in person to certain danger, when other means of escaping were at hand; that a prudent man will never have recourse to measures of open violence, till he has exhausted the resources of intrigue and secret management; and that this in the present instance would be the best course to pursue; for how could the lion, strong and powerful as he is, be successfully, if openly, opposed; and, on the other hand, instances were not wanting to prove the fortunate issue of stratagem and contrivance.

On a certain occasion the hen bird of a species of sea fowl, called Titawi, said to the cock, I wish we could find a secure place to hatch our young, for I am afraid that the genius of the sea will discover them, and take them away. The cock desired her to remain where she was, as there was plenty of food; upon which she reproached him with his inconsiderateness, but received the same answer, with some observations on the unreasonableness of her alarm. The hen still persisted in urging her apprehensions, and cautioned the cock not to treat so lightly what she said, reminding him of what happened to the tortoise for not attending to the advice of the two geese, who, being in the same pond with him, and living on terms of intimacy and friendship, were unwilling to go away, when the too great decrease of the water made their departure necessary, without taking leave of him. The tortoise observed to them, that the diminution of the water was more a reason for his departure, as he was almost as helpless on dry land as a ship, than for theirs, and begged that they would take him with them; to which they agreed, and for that purpose desired him to suspend himself from the middle of a long piece of wood, one end of which each of them would take hold of, and in this manner fly away with him, strictly forbidding him to utter a sound. They had not flown far, when some persons below, seeing what was passing over their heads, and crying out from astonishment, the tortoise, alarmed at the discovery, and forgetting the injunctions which he had received, expressed aloud his wish, that their eyes might be plucked out; and losing his hold upon opening his mouth, fell to the ground and was killed. This account made no impression upon the cock bird, but the predictions of the hen proved too true; for shortly after, the genius of the sea came and took away her brood. An altercation then ensued between the cock and the hen; the latter asserting, as is common enough, that she knew she was right, and her mate declaring vengeance against his enemy; so he immediately repaired to the assembly of the birds, and appealing to them as his relations and friends, implored their assistance; upon which it was determined that the matter should be laid before the whole feathered race; by whom it was at length agreed upon to address themselves to their sovereignc, who would certainly listen to the complaint, and call forth the whole force of his kingdom to avenge the wrong done to one of his subjects; and they were not disappointed in their expectations.

c In the Arabic a fabulous bird called Anka is mentioned, which often occurs in Eastern romances: it is supposed to have had the gift of speech, and to have reigned as queen on the mountain of Kaf. Vide Richardson’s English and Persian Dictionary.

Now as soon as the genius of the sea became acquainted with the preparations for hostility which were going to commence against him, he was afraid of engaging in a contest of which he foresaw that the issue would be unfavourable, and therefore restored the young ones of the Titawi. I recommend to you therefore on the present occasion, continued Dimna, to use as much prudence, and not risk your life on the event of a battle with the lion. Schanzabeh replied, that so far from wishing to contend with the lion, he had never given occasion for any subject of dispute, either in his public conduct or by any secret intrigue, nor ever been wanting in respect up to the present moment.

This meekness and humility on the part of Schanzabeh did not please Dimna, who knew that if the lion did not discover in the behaviour and deportment of the bull the symptoms of dissatisfaction and rebellion which he had predicted, he should be suspected himself. He therefore begged Schanzabeh to go to the lion, and convince himself in person of the truth of what he had told him; adding, that he would find him sitting in an erect posture, with flaming eyes, pricking up his ears, and with his mouth open ready to rush upon him: and Schanzabeh allowed, that if he found him as thus described, all doubt would be removed from his mind. Dimna having thus succeeded in prepossessing in the first instance the lion against the bull, and in having left on the mind of the bull unfavourable impressions as to the intentions of the lion, lost no time in returning to Kalila, who was desirous of hearing some account of what he had done; and was informed by Dimna, that the accomplishment of their mutual wishes was very near at hand. They then went together to be present at the battle between the lion and the bull, being curious to see the issue of the business: about the same time Schanzabeh arrived, and found the lion as Dimna had told him would be the case; upon which he exclaimed, that the friend of a sovereign is like a man, who carries about a serpent in his bosom, against whose sting he is never secure: at these words the lion looking stedfastly at the bull, no longer doubted of his intentions, and immediately sprung upon him. The contest which was very furious lasted some time, and was at intervals doubtful, till at length Kalila, remarking that the lion had the advantage, observed to Dimna, that the power of a sovereign with his companions was like that of the sea with its waves, and that the exhortations which he had given him might be summed up in the advice of the man to the bird, not to meddle in matters that do not promise success, and may be attended with danger. A number of monkeys who lived on a mountain were wishing on a cold, windy, and rainy night for a fire to warm themselves; at last they saw a glow-worm, and thinking that it was a spark of fire, they got together a quantity of wood and threw it upon it, and blew upon it, in order to produce a flame: not far off there was a bird upon a tree, which, observing what they were doing, cried out to them, and endeavoured to convince them of their error. This scene attracted the attention of a man, who was passing by; who told the bird, that it was wasting both its time and patience; that no one thought of proving a sword upon a stubborn impenetrable stone, or of making a bow out of a piece of wood that would not bend. The bird however, without attending to him, flew to the monkeys, to prove to them that the glow-worm was not fire; and was taken up by one of them, dashed upon the ground, and killed. And this case applies exactly to you, brother, continued Kalila, and my advice has found no better success in the endeavours which I have used to detach you from the course of treachery and wickedness in which you are engaged, two qualities equally bad, though the former is generally more fatal in its consequences, as instanced in the following story; where it is related, that a fraudulent and an inconsiderate man were partners in trade, and having set out on a journey together, it happened whilst they were travelling, that the inconsiderate man had occasion to stop, and accidentally discovered a purse containing a thousand dinars lying on the ground, which he took up, and put into his pocket, but not without having been observed by his companion. At length as they were returning home, and had nearly reached the town where they lived, they sat down to divide the money; the inconsiderate man desiring his partner to take half, and he would keep the remainder for himself: but this proposal was not at all agreeable to the fraudulent partner, who had already formed the plan in his own mind of getting the whole sum for himself: he therefore remarked, that it would appear as if they mutually distrusted each other, were they to divide the treasure which had so unexpectedly fallen into their possession; that friends should have every thing in common, without admitting any distinction of property; that it would therefore be better for each to take what he wanted for his present expences, and to bury the rest at the foot of a tree, which was near them, and return for more as often as they had occasion for it; by this means the secret of their good fortune would remain undivulged, and they would not attract extraordinary notice by the appearance of having become suddenly very rich. This then was agreed upon, and each took as much of the money as he chose; the remainder was buried at the foot of the tree, and they returned home. Shortly after, the fraudulent man came in the absence of his partner, and carried away the bag with its contents, taking care to make the ground smooth and level again, that there might be no suspicion of its having been turned up. In a few days the inconsiderate man having occasion for a fresh supply, communicated his wishes to his partner, and desired him to accompany him to the tree, that they might both at the same time and in concert take what they wanted. Upon their arrival, having dug a sufficient depth, and finding nothing, the fraudulent man, with all the signs of despair and disappointment, reproached his friend with roguery, and with his endeavour to conceal it under the mask of uprightness and candour, and accused him of having stolen the money privately. The other persisted in asserting his innocence, till at length, after a long and violent altercation, they agreed to refer the matter to the judge; before whom the same scene being renewed, each accusing his partner of the theft, which the other as strenuously denied, the judge asked the fraudulent man if he could adduce any proof of the truth of his assertions; he immediately appealed to the tree, which he declared would bear witness to the veracity of all that he had said; and this he did with the greater confidence, as he had previously directed his father to go and conceal himself in the hollow of the trunk, that he might return an answer in the name of the tree. This proposal surprised the judge; so he went with his attendants and the parties, and being arrived at the tree, put the necessary question to it, to which the old man replied, that it was the inconsiderate man who had been guilty of the fraud. The astonishment of the judge became greater after hearing these words, and considering that the business deserved a closer investigation, he commanded wood to be brought and fires to be lighted round the tree, which beginning to burn, the old prisoner was alarmed for his safety, and cried out for help; and being released, just as he was on the point of perishing in the flames, confessed the imposture; upon which the judge sentenced both father and son, the latter to a severe, and the former to a lighter punishment, exposed them on horseback in the streets, fined the fraudulent man the amount of the sum, which he had surreptitiously obtained, and gave it to his injured partner. You see therefore, brother Dimna, that the effects of treachery and deceit generally fall on the heads of those who have practised them, and it is on this account that your conduct, stamped with the mark of daring wickedness, joined to the most subtle and artful contrivance, and which proves to me that you have as it were two faces and two tongues, makes me apprehensive for your safety. Integrity of heart is incompatible with the restlessness of uncontrolled passion, as the water of the river only remains sweet, till it has reached the sea. Instead of resembling the honest man, who has no corrupt inclination, you are more like the adder, which carries the poison under its tongue; or the serpent, which having been brought up, fed, handled, and caressed, at length stings its benefactor. It is an old saying, Make a friend of the intelligent and nobleminded man; (but those, brother, are not your characteristics.) If your companion be a man of understanding and generosity, his society is the more desirable, and though he be intelligent without possessing a noble mind, still his friendship is of value. Where the two qualities are united, the possession of them leaves nothing more to be desired. Good sense unaccompanied by any laudable disposition has claims to consideration and regard, as affording scope for discrimination in reaping the advantages of talents, which are not under the control of amiable affections; on the other hand honour and integrity, though not associated with learning, have an undisputed title to respect and esteem, when you can apply your own information in aid of your friends uninstructed virtues; but where want of talent is united with want of character, the person who is thus destitute of all accomplishments, will never repay the time and pains, which are employed in cultivating his acquaintance. The acknowledged truth of these remarks convinces me, Dimna, that I must not expect from you either sincere attachment or the fruits of good behaviour, after the return which you have made to the favour and distinctions which your sovereign has heaped upon you. You remind me of the story of the merchant, who said that if there was a country, in which the mice were able to eat an hundred pounds of iron, the hawks might very well be supposed capable of destroying the elephants. The story is thus related.

A merchant who possessed an hundred pounds of iron, being obliged to be absent for a few days, entrusted his stock to the care of a friend, and having at his return demanded to have it restored to him, was answered, that the mice had eaten it; to which he made no other reply than that he had heard of the sharpness of their teeth in biting iron, removing by this declaration all suspicion of incredulity: but as he was going away, he chanced to meet the son of his friend, and seizing him, led him away to his own house. On the morrow the father came to him in great haste, to ask if he knew any thing of his son: the merchant told him, that as he was returning home the preceding day, he saw a hawk carry off a young lad, who probably might be his son. Is it credible, exclaimed the father, or was it ever heard of, that a hawk carried away a little child? Indeed, answered the merchant, in a country, where the mice can eat an hundred pounds of iron, it is not incredible that hawks should be able to carry off the elephants. Upon this the father confessed his theft, paid the merchant the price of his iron, and demanded in return his son: you see therefore how little dependence can be placed upon a man, who does not scruple to deceive his companion; and how perishable a thing friendship is, when founded on professions, which the heart does not approve; where the gift of love is not received with gratitude, where advice is thrown away upon a deaf ear, and confidential intercourse is every moment in danger of being betrayed. The society of the good is productive of corresponding advantages, whilst the fellowship of the wicked is attended by very opposite, results, in the same manner as the zephyr which fans the aromatic shrub, becomes impregnated with its delicious smell, whilst the wind which has passed over a corrupt substance, carries pollution on its wings.

Kalila here left off speaking, and in the mean time the lion, having executed his purpose of destroying the bull, began to reflect on what he had done; and his anger giving way to softer feelings, he spoke aloud his sorrow at the death of Schanzabeh, whom he acknowledged to have been possessed of understanding and judgment, and of an amiable disposition, and whom he allowed to have been probably innocent of the crimes laid to his charge, and to have fallen a victim to the calumnies and false accusations of his enemies. He was in this state of uneasiness and dissatisfaction with himself, which was visibly depicted on his countenance, when Dimna, after congratulating him on his success, enquired the cause of his present sadness; and being informed, that it was on account of the loss of Schanzabeh, who had so many good qualities to recommend him, he took the liberty of representing to the king, that it was unbecoming in a man of his sense and wisdom to be afflicted at the death, of one whom he feared; that sometimes indeed a prudent man, notwithstanding his dislike of a person, might think it advisable to make use of his services, if he found that he was possessed of ability and talent, in the same manner as he would submit to a disagreeable remedy in hopes of being cured of an obstinate disease; but even then the favour which he shows him is generally of short duration, and the manner of his fall usually declares the apprehensions entertained of the mischief he might do; as a person who has been bitten in the finger by a serpent, proves the magnitude of the danger, which he fears may arise from the poison to his whole body, by cutting off the hand. This satisfied the lion for some time, till at length having discovered the treachery and villany of Dimna, he proceeded to punish him in an exemplary manner.

Investigation of the conduct of Dimna.

Dabschelim the king said to Bidpaï the philosopher, Well, you have detailed to me the means by which this slanderer and detractor was able to destroy the intimacy which subsisted between the two friends; I now wish to be informed of what became of Dimna after the death of Schanzabeh, when the lion, seeing the case of the bull in its true light, proceeded to submit the arts of treachery and villany, to which he had fallen a victim, to a strict investigation. The philosopher replied, that it was related in the history of Dimna that the lion, after he had killed Schanzabeh, expressed great sorrow and concern at his death, and often spoke with feeling and warmth of the pleasure which he had found in his society, as well as of the benefit which he had derived from his services; that he had been the most favoured and distinguished of all his attendants, possessing unlimited freedom of access to his person, and consulted on occasions, when no other was allowed the same privilege.

Now next to the bull no one enjoyed the confidence of the lion in so great a degree as the leopard; and as he was returning home one night, having spent the evening with his master, he had to pass by the house of Kalila and Dimna; and as he reached the door, he heard Kalila expostulating with his brother on the atrocity of his conduct, and blaming him for his treachery and deceit, and especially for the use which he had made of them to the prejudice of the respect which is due to persons of consideration and power. The leopard having thus found a clue to the perfidy of Dimna in the dissatisfaction expressed by his brother, listened with great attention to their conversation, and overheard Kalila speak in the following terms: You have embarked, brother, in an enterprise pregnant with dangers, and of which the issue will lead to your destruction, as soon as your conduct, together with the arts by which you have disgraced it, becomes known to the lion. No one will have the power or inclination to espouse your cause, because contempt for the meanness of which you have been guilty, joined to a dread of the further mischief which you may be able to effect, will point to an exemplary punishment as the only safe means of precaution which can be taken against your contrivances in future. From this moment I disclaim all connection and familiarity with you, for the wisdom of ages has pronounced, that he, who has no title to esteem, is also unworthy of confidence; besides I am bound to consult my own interest and safety, for I shall not fail to be implicated in your crime, and to be thought to approve of what you have done, if the lion observes that I am on the same intimate footing with you as formerly. The leopard after this returned, and went to the mother of the lion, and having obtained from her a promise, that she would not divulge any thing of what he should communicate to her, he acquainted her with the conversation which he had overheard between Kalila and Dimna: then as soon as she was up in the morning, she went to the lion, and seeing that he was still very low and out of spirits, enquired the reason, and her son informed her, that the death of Schanzabeh was ever present to his mind, and that his sorrow at his untimely end was rendered more poignant by the reflection, that he had at the same time lost a friend and a counsellor. His mother told him, that self-accusation was the severest and most painful of all feelings, and that he had exposed himself to the pangs of remorse and conscious guilt which he felt, by his intemperate haste in putting Schanzabeh to death without sufficient proof of his crime; and added, that she was only restrained by the recollection of the turpitude which attached to a breach of trust in divulging what had been placed under the seal of secresy, from explaining herself more folly to him. The lion replied, that the sayings of wise men, under which she sheltered her reserve, were to be interpreted with great latitude, and were capable of different modifications according to circumstances, and desired her therefore not to withhold from him any information, which it was important for him to know. Upon this his mother related to him the whole of what she had heard from the leopard, whom however she did not mention by name, observing, that though she was by no means convinced of the lawfulness of publishing what had been confidentially entrusted to her, still she had not hesitated to prefer his interest, which would be essentially promoted by the disclosure she had made, to that of others, to whom it might probably be fatal, whose pertinacity in their attempts to deceive the king deserved to be brought to light and punished, lest foolish and ignorant men, judging of the innocence of the means by the success which attends them, should find an excuse for the impudence and want of decency with which they attack the good and virtuous.

As soon as his mother had done speaking, the lion commanded the presence of all his attendants, and being unable to suppress the painful emotions which agitated him, Dimna no sooner remarked the symptoms of sorrow and sadness on his countenance and in his manner, than turning to one of his companions, he asked what had happened to distress the king. The mother of the lion answered him in an angry tone, that his presence was the cause of the uneasiness which he pretended to deplore, and gave him plainly to understand, that he would not be suffered to live many hours longer. Dimna replied, that the threat which had been pronounced against him, if carried into execution, would leave nothing more to be dreaded by him; yet he could not believe that the king and his court would expose themselves to the risk of taking part with evil-disposed persons. That the contagious example and dangerous alliance of the wicked was one reason, why religious men withdrew themselves from the commerce of mankind, and sought their safety and peace of mind in retirement and the practice of devotional duties; looking up for the recompense of their good actions to Him, who repays according to the deserts of every one, and not to the world, where purity of conduct is not only often unrewarded, but even entails misery on the virtuous and honest, however contrary this is to the upright and equitable conduct due from the subjects of a king; and it has been said, whoever confounds the nature of things, is liable to be drawn into error by specious appearances, like the woman in the fable, who mistook her servant for her lover.

It is told of a merchant in a certain city, that he was married to a woman of great beauty and accomplishments. There was also in the same city a painter, who was very intimate with the wife of the merchant; so she desired him to think of some means, by which she might be apprised of his coming to visit her, without exciting any suspicion of the familiarity which subsisted between them. The painter told her, that this was by no means difficult, for that he was possessed of a dress of different colours, and very curiously worked with figures, which on such occasions he would put on, and that she would be able to know him at a distance; this therefore took place a few days after, and every thing went off to their mutual satisfaction: but it happened that the servant of the wife, who had been a witness of what was passing, was struck with astonishment at what he saw, and determined to take advantage of the discovery which he had made; and as he was acquainted with the painter’s maid, he begged her to lend him the dress, that he might show it to a friend, and promised to return it, before her master should call for it. The maid made no difficulty in giving it to him, upon which he put it on, and went to the spot to which he had observed the painter go; and his mistress, not doubting that it was her lover, immediately joined him, and during the whole time that she was with him, betrayed no symptoms of suspicion or distrust. When the meeting was over, the servant carried back the dress to the maid, who, as her master was absent, had sufficient time to put it in its proper place again.

In the evening the painter came home, and putting on his dress as usual, presented himself to his female friend; who, rushing out to meet him, asked him, why he had so soon repeated his visit. The painter, being surprised at the question, lost no time in returning to his house, and calling for his maid, threatened to put her to death, if she did not satisfactorily account to him for what had happened; upon which the maid made a full confession of all that had passed, and the painter took his dress and burnt it. Dimna added, that he had related this story, to show the king the danger of too great haste in the decision of a difficult matter, and not through any fear of death, which, though by no means an agreeable event, was stripped of many of its terrors, by the knowledge that it would inevitably sooner or later take place; that, besides this, had he a hundred lives, he would readily sacrifice them to please the king. One of those who were present, observing to Dimna that he could not discover in what he said any attachment to the king, but only an attempt to excuse himself; he indignantly replied, How can any one be blamed, who, feeling warmly for his own honour and safety, endeavours to screen himself from the consequences of an attack upon his reputation and life? and on what occasion can a man exert himself with greater right than in his own defence? I discover in the reproach which you have made me, the predominant passions of envy and hatred, which are the offspring of your bad heart, and render you unworthy to serve the king, or even appear at his court. This rebuke from Dimna made his adversary retire; but called forth from the mother of the lion an expression of surprise at his effrontery, and want of decency in the language which he had held. Dimna told her, that her prepossessions against him, and the partiality which she showed to his accusers, obliged him to speak as he had done; that his miserable condition deprived him of the means of taking precautions against the contrivances of his enemies, who having the ear of the king, could invent and procure belief for what stories they pleased, in order to effect his ruin and disgrace; that the lot of persons at the court of a sovereign was by no means enviable, living as they necessarily must in continual uncertainty, as to the duration of royal favour, and exposed to the risk of losing, by an untimely word or an incautious expression, their distinctions as well as their means of existence. Do you not see, exclaimed the mother of the lion to those who surrounded her, how this execrable sinner, notwithstanding the magnitude of his crime, endeavours to pass himself off for an injured and innocent person? Dimna replied, that he took no blame to himself for the course which he was pursuing; that the unforeseen circumstances, in which he found himself, fully justified him; and that were he to act in a different manner, he should resemble the man, who spread ashes where he ought to have scattered sand; or like one who put on the dress of a woman instead of his own; or like the person who pretended to be the master of the house, in which he was only a guest; or like him who gave an answer to a question which had not been asked him; and that the person deserved indeed to be pitied, who owing to his inexperience in business, and his ignorance of mankind, was unable to keep off the evil which was impending over him. Do you think, O traitor, said the mother of the lion, by this plausible language to deceive the king, and escape imprisonment? The traitor, replied Dimna, is he who does not miss the opportunity of destroying without a cause his enemy, who is in continual alarm at his secret contrivances. Do you think, villanous liar, answered the mother, that your falsehood will remain unpunished, and that you will be able to throw a cloak over your crime by your ingenuity and sophistry? The liar, answered Dimna, is he who asserts what is not true, and publishes what has been neither said nor done; but my language is both clear and indisputable. The mother of the lion then complimented those amongst the attendants, who from a sense of duty had stood forward as the accusers of Dimna, and arose and went away.

Then the lion delivered Dimna over to the judge, who directed him to be put into confinement, and a rope being placed about his neck, he was led away to prison. And in the middle of the night, Kalila, being informed that Dimna had been arrested, came to him privately, and when he saw what his brother was suffering from the weight of his chains, and from the narrow space in which he had to move, he could not refrain from weeping at his fate; but at the same time told him, that his intemperate language and indiscretion, together with an inattention to the advice which had been given him, and a neglect of the means which were in his power to recover the false step he had made, bad brought him into his present difficulties. And if I did not feel, continued he, that I have done every thing in my power to correct the propensities and evil habits, which I foresaw would be fatal to you, by persuasion and exhortation, as well as by placing before your eyes examples of persons who have fallen untimely victims of their own folly and deceitful practices, I should reproach myself with being in a great measure the cause of the misfortune which has happened to you, and should even charge myself with a participation in your crime; but the fond conceit of your own abilities so far got the better of your judgment and good sense, that all friendly hints were thrown away upon you. Dimna acknowledged the justice of his brother’s remarks, but consoled himself with the reflection, that it is better, according to the saying of wise men, to pay the penalty of a crime in this world, than to be tormented everlastingly for it in the next: however, this reasoning was not so conclusive to the mind of Kalila, who dreaded the punishment which it would be in the power of the lion to inflict upon Dimna.

Now there happened to be confined in the same prison a hyena, who overhearing the conversation which took place, and the expostulations of Kalila with Dimna on his ill conduct, together with the confessions of the latter, who freely acknowledged to his brother the enormity of his crime, carefully treasured up in his mind the information which he had acquired, that he might be able to give evidence if called upon. After this Kalila returned home, and the mother of the lion as soon as she was up in the morning went to her son, and implored him not to change the orders which he had given the day before, and which had spread general satisfaction amongst his attendants, for that dispatch and decision were necessary to counteract the purposes of a dangerous enemy, however unjust it would be to have recourse to a crime in order to punish him.

As soon as the lion had heard the words of his mother, he commanded that the leopard, who was one of the judges, should be sent for; and upon his appearing, he directed him and Giwash el Adel to take their seats on the bench of justice, and summon the whole troop, to come forward and give evidence in the cause of Dimna; and ordered at the same time that the defence of Dimna should be recorded, and a report made to him of the proceedings from day to day. The leopard and Giwash el Adel, who was the uncle of the lion, replied, that it was only necessary to know the orders of the king, in order to obey them, and they immediately retired to execute the commands which they had received. And the trial having commenced, the judge at the expiration of three hours ordered Dimna to be conducted into court, and placed in the front of the assembly; and after silence had been proclaimed, the president spoke in the following terms: It is known to this assembly, that the king of the beasts since the loss of Schanzabeh has been in the greatest affliction and sorrow at the unlawful manner by which, as it appears, through the falsehood and treachery of Dimna his death was brought about; it is for the purpose of enquiring into this matter that we are met together this day: I therefore call upon every one present to declare what he knows, tending either to the condemnation or exculpation of Dimna, that the sentence of the court may be clothed in all the legal forms, and be folly substantiated by evidence: if the death of Schanzabeh admits of justification, it is important that this fact should be brought to light, that the ends of justice may not be frustrated by partiality, or a time-serving compliance with the wishes of the king. When the president had finished speaking, the judge directed the attention of the court to what had been said, and cautioned the witnesses not to dismiss from their minds the recollection of the bulls services, or to think that his merits were small, and therefore the injustice done to him unworthy of consideration, because there was no greater crime than the putting to death an innocent person; and whoever suppressed any part of the evidence, which might serve to unravel the plot, to which he had fallen a victim, would be virtually guilty of the murder, and share its consequences: in the next place, he called upon every one to declare if the accused had at anytime acknowledged his offence; that he might not be deprived of the benefit of a voluntary confession, from the clemency of the king: and, lastly, he charged them not to be biassed by any considerations of friendship or views of interest to give a false colour to their evidence; reminding them, that at the future distribution of rewards and punishments, the neglect to vindicate the reputation of a dead man, would be visited by the torment of eternal flames. Alter this speech of the judge, there was a general silence in the court, upon which Dimna called upon the witnesses to relate what they knew, declaring that he was ready to answer whatever they could urge against him; but threatening any false witness with what had happened to the physician, who asserted his knowledge of a thing of which he was ignorant; and at the desire of the court he related the story: That there was in a certain city a physician of established reputation in his profession, but who was very old, and nearly blind; and the king of the place had a daughter married to his nephew, who experiencing the pains which usually denote a state of pregnancy, the physician was sent for to be consulted on the occasion, and immediately declared the nature of her malady, regretting at the same time that he was unable, on account of his imperfect sight, to prepare himself the proper medicines, and unwilling to trust any one else with his prescription. This at length reached the ears of another practitioner of no education, but who pretended to have a thorough knowledge of his profession, and offered to undertake the cure of the princess; upon which the king desired him to procure the necessary drugs: but when he went to the shop, and the different medicines were shown to him, he was so entirely ignorant of the various kinds, that amongst other ingredients which he chose for the physic which he intended to prepare, he took a deadly poison; and having mixed the whole together, he gave the draught to his patient, who died upon the spot. But the king, to punish him for his presumption and folly, made him drink of the same mixture, and his own death immediately ensued.

Here Dimna remarked upon the instruction contained in the fable which he had related, and dwelt upon the liability to error, to which every one is exposed, who does not unite prudence and moderation with his attempts to bring to issue a doubtful matter: in this manner he wished to impress on the minds of the court the necessity of circumspection and discrimination in the proceedings which had been instituted against him, not only in justice to the accused, but from considerations which were personal to themselves; because, according to a current saying, a person was answerable for what he said, and the full liberty of speech, which had been accorded to them, might possibly induce them to overstep the bounds of right and discretion. Upon this the chief of those who were employed in the kitchen of the lion, who enjoyed great consideration on account of the post which he filled, stood up, and addressed the court in the following words: I beseech this noble and learned court to listen with attention to what I have to advance. The bounty of Providence in its dispensations towards you has gifted you with the power of ascertaining by outward signs and marks what is passing in the heart, and of distinguishing the good man from him who is of a contrary disposition: it is therefore your bounden duty to make use of this prerogative on the present occasion, and from an examination of the features of Dimna, and of the appearances which tell against him, to arrive at a knowledge of his true character. Here the judge observed to the principal cook, that as he enjoyed the talent of discrimination to which he had alluded, in so great a degree, it became him to acquaint the court with the conclusions which he had formed from observing the countenance of Dimna; upon which, without hesitation, he declared, that the wise men had pronounced as their opinion; that the person, whose left eye was smaller than the right, and continually winking, and whose nose at the same time inclined to his right side, contained in himself the very essence of impurity, deceit, and wickedness. Here Dimna was unable to suppress his indignation at the conduct and language of the cook, and told him, that he only deserved to be answered, as the man answered one of his wives, who reproached the other with being naked, though she was herself without any covering: It once happened, he said, that the enemy having got possession of a city which was besieged, plundered the inhabitants, and carried off a great many prisoners; and there fell to the share of one of the soldiers a farmer and his two wives, whom the soldier treated with great inhumanity, depriving them both of food and raiment. One day the farmer went out, attended by his two wives, to collect wood for the soldier, and one of the females having picked up an old rag, made the most decent use she could offer to supply her want of clothes; and then directed the attention of the husband to the barefacedness of the other, who was walking about unconcerned at the state in which: she was. The husband told her, that in finding fault with her companion, she was at the same time condemning herself, for that the charge of indecency would apply equally to both. And your behaviour, continued Dimna, addressing himself to the cook, is truly surprising; for when I consider the deformity of your person, and the filthiness which renders it more disgusting, I wonder at your presumption in daring even to set a foot in the kitchen of the king, not to mention your impudence in venturing to appear in his presence. You have put yourself forward to speak against an innocent person of pure and honest intentions; and your baseness in thus calumniating me in the presence of the court, releases me from the obligation, which from motives of friendship I had voluntarily contracted towards you, and imposes upon me the duty of laying open your character, which however is known to most who are present, and of drawing aside the veil, which an indulgent hand has so long held before your vicious habits, that the king may see the danger of employing you in future; for you are not only unworthy of so distinguished a post in his kitchen, but you are unfit for the most menial occupation, or to exercise the lowest profession. The cook here grew impatient, and a few angry words escaped him; and Dimna proceeded: I have asserted nothing but what is true, and to finish your portrait, I add, that you have been lame from your birth, and a very skeleton, club-footed, and labouring under the most loathsome diseases in different parts of your body, which make you an object of aversion and disgust. At these words the cook changed colour, and the depression in his spirits which they occasioned deprived him of the means of making even the shadow of a reply. And Dimna, observing the state of despondency into which he had sunk, and that the tears were starting from his eyes, told him in a tone of malignant joy and exultation, that he would soon have greater reason to weep, when the king, becoming acquainted with his worthlessness and depravity, would not only dismiss him from the kitchen, but banish him altogether from his court and presence.

Now a jackal, in whom the lion had great confidence, and who had received orders from the king to report from time to time what was going on, immediately left the court, to inform his sovereign of what had just taken place; which he detailed in a very clear and distinct manner; and the lion immediately ordered, that the cook should be dismissed from his office, and sent into banishment; and directed that Dimna should be conducted back again to prison: and the proceedings having already occupied the greater part of the day, the whole of the evidence, together with the defence of the prisoner, was committed to writing, and sealed with the seal of the leopard, and the court separated.

Amongst the jackals there was one named Rusbah, a very intimate friend of Kalila, and in great favour with the lion. Now the state of alarm and apprehension for his own safety and life having occasioned the sudden death of Kalila, Rusbah lost no time in going to Dimna, to acquaint him with the distressing news; who was so much afflicted at the loss of his brother, that he broke out into a flood of tears; but suddenly reflecting on his own forlorn situation, he exclaimed, What henceforth can I hope or expect in the world, if Providence is not gracious to me! I see, Rusbah, that you are not unmoved at my present condition; I beg of you therefore to be so good as to go to a place which I will name to you, and bring me the small property which my brother and I have been able to collect by our pains and diligence. Rusbah having executed the commission, Dimna made him a present of half of what he possessed, and addressing him said, You have freer access to the lion than any of his attendants; I therefore beseech you to lose no opportunity of learning what is reported to him concerning me; and to be particularly attentive to the language of his mother, as far as it concerns me, in order to discover, if possible, to what extent her son is inclined to follow her advice; and to observe if he betrays in his answers any favourable disposition towards me. The jackal made no scruple of accepting the present which Dimna offered him, and carried it home. On the next morning the lion rose earlier than usual, and after his attendants had waited two hours in expectation of being sent for, they begged permission to be admitted to an audience, and presented to him the minutes of evidence which had been taken on the trial; upon which the lion sent for his mother, and read the whole proceedings to her; which she had no sooner heard, than she expressed her dissatisfaction at the course which her son had pursued, who, blind to his own interest and regardless of her advice, exposed himself to the risk of being deceived by the specious arguments and ingenious reasoning of Dimna, and immediately left the room. The jackal, whose good services Dimna had secured, having heard this, went to inform him of what had passed; and whilst he was talking to him, there arrived a messenger, who was ordered to conduct him again to the court of justice; and as soon as he appeared before the judge, the president of the assembly addressed him in the following manner: We are now arrived at that stage of the proceedings, in which we are bound to call upon you to give a true account of yourself, and of what is laid to your charge, remembering that this world is only the passage to another, and that our conduct here is the rule by which it will be determined hereafter, if we are worthy to enter into that eternal dwelling, whither the prophets and ministers of knowledge and good are gone before. The information which we had already received was sufficient to stamp on your behaviour a complexion, which betrayed the motives by which you were instigated; it was nevertheless the will and pleasure of the king that we should submit it to a judicial examination, however small the doubt which remained on our own minds. I see, O judge, answered Dimna, that you are not bound by the rules of equity in your proceedings; and it is unjust in a king to persecute the unfortunate, who have been guilty of no crime, by preferring an accusation against them, without allowing them to make their defence; and I cannot be expected to submit to unmerited punishment without resistance; besides, the precipitation with which you have hurried on the proceedings against me (for my trial has scarcely lasted three days) proves, that the attainment of the ends of justice is the least of the motives by which you have been influenced. The duty of a judge, replied the other, as has been in old times laid down, is to make himself acquainted with the conduct both of the good and bad, that, by dealing with every one according to his deserts, he may strengthen and improve the disposition of the former, and create, where they are wanting, good intentions in the latter; therefore the best counsel which we can give you, Dimna, is to reflect on your present situation, and in acknowledging your crime, to show signs of repentance and contrition. Upright judges, continued Dimna, never decide from suspicion alone, for suspicion ought never to supply the place of justice; and though in your opinion I may be guilty of the crime laid to my charge, still I cannot consent to sacrifice the inward persuasion which I have of my own innocence, founded on a knowledge of the motives by which I have been guided, to your presumption of my guilt, which from its very nature must be inconclusive, and liable to error. If the accusation of others has already had the effect of injuring me in your opinion, what advantage can I promise myself in becoming my own accuser; I should then belie the consciousness of my innocence, and challenge the punishment which I feel I do not deserve; and I should incur a charge of inconsistency in deposing falsely to my own criminality, in the very moment that I am on my trial for a supposed offence of the same nature against another. Cease therefore, O judge, to address me in this manner. Your language, if meant as advice, is ill-timed, and ill-directed; if intended as a snare to entrap the innocent, it is base, and unbecoming the situation which you fill, and, what is worse than this, your words will be treasured up by foolish and ignorant men as lessons of instruction; for the decisions and opinions of those who are entrusted with the administration of justice, are capable, according to the different construction which is put upon them, and the latitude with which they are interpreted, of becoming a support to the cause of virtue, or of affording a cloak to vice. I warn you, therefore, against the train of evil consequences, which the course you are pursuing may draw after it. I do not allude to any worldly misfortune which may result to you from it, for the high opinion which the king and his attendants entertain of your wisdom and judgment, places you above the reach of temporal calamity, but will not protect you from the pangs of remorse, for having violated in my person the rules of equity and justice: and have you never heard it reported, that he who pretends to have a knowledge of that with which he is not acquainted, and speaks authoritatively and unblushingly in a dubious affair, is likely to meet with no better fate than the falconer, who accused his master’s wife of adultery? The judge having desired to hear the story, Dimna continued as follows:

There was in a certain city a nobleman married to a woman of great beauty, and remarkable for the propriety of her conduct; and he had in his service a falconer thoroughly skilled in the bringing up and training of hawks, and who was in such estimation with his master that he often enjoyed the honour of sitting at table with him in the company of the ladies; and the consequence was, that he fell in love with his wife, who so far from listening to his declarations, or giving him the least encouragement, changed colour and became red with shame, as often as he renewed his indecent proposals. The passion of the falconer being only increased by the refusal which he met with, he had recourse to various expedients for the attainment of his purpose, but which were all equally unsuccessful. So he went out hawking one day as usual, and caught two young parrots, which he carried home and brought up, and when they were grown to their full size, he placed them in two separate cages, and taught one of them to say, I saw the porter lying with my mistress in my master’s bed; and the other he instructed to cry out, I will not tell tales. At the end of six months, the parrots being quite perfect in their lesson, the falconer carried them to his master, who was all admiration and wonder at hearing them talk, though he did not understand a syllable of what they said, for the falconer had taught them in the language of Balk; however his astonishment was not diminished by this circumstance, and he desired his wife to take care of them. A short time after some friends from Balk came on a visit to the nobleman, who entertained them very hospitably; and after they had dined, and talked over the news of the day, their host ordered the falconer to bring the two parrots, and as soon as they were in the room, they cried out as they had been taught; and the men of Balk, understanding what they said, looked with surprise one at the other, and then turned away their heads, in order to conceal the astonishment which their looks might betray. This conduct of his guests did not escape the notice of the nobleman, who therefore asked his friends what the parrots had said, but they refused for a long time to tell him; till at length, being tired by a repetition of the same question, they explained it to him, and added, that they could not remain in a house of such ill fame. Upon this the nobleman begged them to speak to the parrots in the language of Balk, which they did, and found that they were not able to say any thing but what they had learned from the falconer; and in this way the innocence of the nobleman’s wife was completely proved, and the villany of the falconer brought to light. The nobleman therefore sent for him, and he came into the room with a white hawk upon his hand; and the wife, as soon as she saw him, asked him triumphantly, if he had himself seen what the parrots had published; and upon his answering in the affirmative, the hawk sprung at his face, and plucked out his eyes with its claws; and the wife exclaimed, that it was a punishment from heaven, for his having asserted what he did not know. Dimna added, that he had related this fable, to show that falsehood is severely punished as well in this world as in the next.

As soon as the judge had heard the speech of Dimna, he arose and went to report it in person to the lion, who, after some moments reflection; sent for his mother, and acquainted her with it; and his mother told him, that the language of Dimna filled her with alarm, and gave her reason to apprehend a greater crime, extending possibly to an attempt on her son’s life, than that which he had committed in procuring by his treachery and cunning the death of the innocent bull. These words of his mother made an impression upon the mind of the lion, and he desired her to tell him who it was, who had given the information which she had communicated about Dimna, that he might have a good reason for putting him to death. His mother refused to divulge, what had been entrusted to her under a promise of secrecy, lest the death of Dimna procured by such a breach of trust should be imputed to her as a crime; but thinking at length of a way to relieve herself from her embarrassment, without violating her word, she sent for the leopard, and reminding him of what he owed to the honour of the lion, and of what was due both to the living and the dead, she conjured him to withhold no longer the evidence of which he was in possession, to prove the guilt of Dimna, lest his disregard to the reputation of a murdered person should cry out for vengeance against him at the day of judgment; and she did not cease using the same arguments, till the leopard was at length persuaded to go to the lion, and relate the whole of what Dimna had confessed in his hearing. After the leopard had declared all that he knew, the hyena, who had been confined in the same prison with Dimna, and had been privy to his confessions, sent to the lion, to say that he was also ready to give evidence; upon which he was led forth from his confinement, and related what he had heard. Then the lion asked them, what had prevented them from coming forward sooner to give their evidence, as they knew his anxiety about the trial of Dimna. They answered each of them, that they were unwilling to appear individually, as the declaration of one alone was insufficient to convict the prisoner; but one witness having deposed to his guilt, a second could have no longer any objection to give his evidence. The lion therefore, having received their depositions, ordered Dimna to be put to death by torture in prison; and thus every one who seeks his own advantage by the injury of another, will find the means which he employs for the attainment of his purpose, converted into the instruments: of his own destruction.

The Ring-dove.

After Bidpaï had finished the history of Dimna, Dabschelim desired him to relate the story of the friends, who in their conduct towards each other displayed the affection and disinterestedness of brethren, together with the origin of their acquaintance. The philosopher said, that nothing was held in greater estimation by men of understanding than brotherly love; which heightens and gives a relish to the enjoyment of our good fortune in the time of prosperity, and becomes a resource under the pressure of calamities; the truth of which was exemplified in the fable of the ring-dove, the rat, the roe, and the crow, as thus related.

There was in the land of Sakawand Ghin, near the city Daher, a place abounding with game, and consequently very much frequented by sportsmen. And there was in this spot a tree, with spreading branches and very luxuriant foliage, in which a crow had built her nest: and as she was one day returning home, and on the point of settling upon her nest, she observed a fowler of very suspicious appearance, with a net upon his back and a club in his hand, advancing towards the tree, and was apprehensive of danger to herself or some other bird; she therefore determined to remain quiet where she was, and see what the fowler would do; and she saw him spread his net upon the ground, and scatter some seeds over it, and then go and hide himself a little way off. In a short time, a ring-dove, the queen of the tribe, with a number of her companions, came and settled upon the ground to eat the seeds, and they were caught in the net. The fowler seeing this, ran in haste towards the net, in which the doves were fluttering about, endeavouring to escape. The ring-dove had in the mean time desired them not to fatigue themselves by their useless efforts, or to think each of its own safety alone, but to act in concert, and unite their strength in flying away with the net, and they would then o all be saved. Upon this they mutually exerted themselves to lift up the net, and having succeeded, they mounted with it into the air; and the fowler continued to follow them, thinking that they would fly a little way, and then settle again. The crow also determined to fly after them, to see what would become of them. Then the ring-dove looking round, saw that the fowler was pursuing them; and she told her companions, that they would never be concealed from him as long as they continued flying over the open fields, but if they directed their course over the woody and more cultivated parts of the land, that they would soon be out of his sight, and he would then go away; and she added, that she was very intimately acquainted with a rat, that lived at no great distance, and if they could only reach his dwelling, that he would soon release them from the net. The doves followed the advice of their queen, and the fowler therefore despairing of catching them went away; but the crow continued to fly after them: and as soon as the ring-dove arrived over the spot where the rat lived, she desired her companions to settle upon the ground. Now the rat had a hundred different holes, which he inhabited. The ring-dove therefore called aloud Zirak, which was his name, to which the rat answering, enquired who was there; and the ring-dove replied, that it was his friend, the ring-dove; upon which the rat came running out of one of his holes, and seeing what had happened to the ring-dove, was very much astonished, and asked for an explanation of it. The ring-dove said, that it was the decree of fate which determined irrevocably both good and evil; that even the sun and moon were subject to its irresistible laws in their appointed eclipses. The rat then set about gnawing that part of the net where the ring-dove was entangled; but she desired him to go to the other doves, and begin by releasing them, and afterwards come to her; and when she had repeated this several times, and the rat had paid no attention to her, he at length remarked to her, that to judge from her manner of talking, she did not appear to have any thought about herself, or even to be aware of the state in which she was. She told him, she was afraid, if he began by setting her at liberty, that he would be tired, or perhaps too lazy to undertake afterwards the liberation of the rest; whereas, if on the contrary he left her till the last, that for her own part she had no apprehensions of being forgotten. This disinterestedness called forth from the rat the strongest assurances of friendship, and of a readiness to serve her; and he immediately set to work with so much zeal and earnestness, that in a short time he had released both the queen and her companions.

Now after the crow had seen what the rat had done, she desired very much to become acquainted with him, and went and called him by his name; and he put his head out of one of his holes, and asked what she wanted; and being told what her purpose was, he replied, that there could not possibly be any intimacy between them; that sensible persons always limited their wishes to what they could reasonably expect to obtain, without wasting their time in vain and unprofitable pursuits, and that he could not consent to seek the familiar acquaintance of one, of whom he was likely to become the food. The crow replied, that it was not with the intention of eating him that she was come; that she had a more important object in view, which was to secure his friendship; and that the truth and sincerity with which she courted it, did not deserve to be repaid by distrust; that her principal motive for seeking his acquaintance were the good and amiable qualities which she had observed in him, and which it was as impossible for him to conceal, as it was for a bag of musk not to send forth a sweet smell. The rat observed, that the strongest enmity was that which had its foundation in nature, and which on different occasions presented itself under various aspects; that, for instance, in the case of the lion and the elephant, its effect was contingent, as according to circumstances either might become the victim of the other; whereas, on the other hand, the antipathy which existed between him and the crow, or the cat, was as uniform in its operation, and as certain in its consequences, as that water, though heated by boiling to the temperature of a fire, will nevertheless extinguish the flame; and that the society of an enemy, which a sensible person would never desire, was as dangerous as a serpent carried about in the bosom. I perfectly understand what you say, answered the crow; it is fit however that you should give free scope to the nobleness of your disposition, and not be hurried away by the false notion, that it is impossible for us to become friends; for nothing is easier to good and well-intentioned persons, than to form an attachment as indissoluble, or, in case of a slight interruption, as easy to be repaired, as a vessel of gold, whereas the friendship of the wicked is as liable to be broken and as difficult to be restored as an earthen cup. The noble-minded person is forcibly attracted by a disposition similar to his own; whereas the mean and ungenerous, if they sometimes affect a social temper, never fail to betray the selfishness in which their professions have originated: I have only to add, that I will not, even at the risk of starving, quit your dwelling till you have acceded to my request. The rat answered the crow, that he accepted an offer, which had all the characteristics which were calculated to inspire confidence; and though in the end he might be deceived, that he should not reproach himself with inconsiderateness, or a too ready acquiescence in the proposal which had been made him. After this he came out of his hole and sat at the door; and the crow asked him the reason for his not venturing out further, and if he had still some doubts in his mind of her sincerity. The rat observed, that there are two things which are objects of pursuit in the world, the tribute of the mind, and the offerings of the hand; that the commerce of the heart, and the best affections, is distinguished by the purity of disinterested attachment; whereas the interchange of good offices between two persons, has very often no foundation in feeling or sentiment, but originates altogether in a mutual desire of profit and advantage, each, notwithstanding a show of generosity, being exclusively influenced by motives of self-interest, in the same manner as the fowler scatters the corn upon the ground, with the intention not of feeding the birds, but of catching them in his net. He added, that the attributes of the mind opened a sweeter source of gratification than was to be found out of the sphere of their operation, and that his confidence in the crow’s integrity, made it his duty to observe a similar line of conduct; that if he had hitherto betrayed some distrust in his behaviour, it was because the sentiments which she had professed, were not those of all her species.

Upon this the crow assured the rat, that she would prove, that she knew the value of friendship, by disclaiming all connection with his enemies of every description. Then the rat advanced towards the crow, and they embraced each other, as if they were the best friends in the world. And after some days, the crow remarked to the rat, that his dwelling was too near the high road, and she was afraid that some boy in going along would throw a stone at him and kill him; and she proposed to him to accompany her to a retired spot, which she knew of, where there was a tortoise, who was her friend, and plenty of fish, and that they could pass their time there very comfortably, and never be at a loss for food. The rat assented, and promised the crow that, upon their arrival at the place which she had mentioned, be would entertain her by relating a number of fables and stories which he knew. Then the crow took hold of the rat’s tail, and flew away with him: and when they reached the pond, the tortoise, who did not immediately recognise his friend, was frightened at what he saw, but at last came out of the water, and asked the crow whence she came; and she told him her story from beginning to end; how she had begun by following the doves, and what had passed between her and the rat. The tortoise complimented the rat upon his understanding and sincerity, and begged to know what had brought him to that country? The crow joined in the request of the tortoise, at the same time calling upon the rat to fulfil his promise; and he began in the following manner.

My first habitation was in the house of a religious man, who had neither family nor servants, and who received every day a basket of food, of which he ate as much as he wanted, and put away the rest; and I was in the habit of watching till he went out, and as soon as he wan gone, I jumped into the basket, and what I could not eat myself, I gave to the other rats in the house, so that nothing was left; and the religious man made many fruitless attempts to hang up the basket out of my reach. Now one night there arrived a guest to sup with him, and the religious man asked his visitor whence he was come, and what were his future plans. The other told him, that he had passed through a great many different countries, and began to relate the history of his travels, and of all the remarkable things which he had seen, when on a sudden the religious man clapped his hands in order to frighten me away from the basket; and the guest was angry at this, which he construed into a want of due attention to what he was relating; but the religious man excused himself by saying, that he had only made the noise to frighten away a rat, which ate up all the victuals in his house, wherever he put them. The guest enquired if it was one rat which did all the mischief; and the other answered, that there were many in the house, but one in particular, of which he had to complain. The guest replied, You have brought to my recollection what was said of a certain woman, that it was for some good reason she had exchanged peeled for unpeeled sesame: I once came to a friend, and supped with him, and he offered me a bed in his house; and upon retiring to my room, I saw that it was only separated by a small partition of reeds from that in which the husband and wife slept; so I overheard the husband say, that he intended the next day to invite company to dinner, and he desired his wife to prepare something for the table: she told him, that he could not have any persons to dine with him, as no thing had been put by the day before, and there were no provisions in the larder. The husband told her not to regret what had been consumed at table, for that the danger of hoarding was exemplified in the story of the wolf, where it was related of a sportsman, that he went out one day with his bow and arrows, and very soon shot a roe, with which he was returning home, when a wild boar appeared, at which he discharged an arrow, and wounded him; and the boar being rendered furious by the pain, rushed upon the sportsman, and they both fell down dead upon the spot. At this moment a wolf came by, who seeing the man, the roe, and the boar, thought he had found a supply of food for some time, but chose to begin by eating the bow, intending to reserve the rest for another occasion; and he had no sooner bitten the string asunder, than the bow flew back, and struck him on the head, and killed him. The wife seemed folly to comprehend the lesson which this story was intended to convey, and told her husband that she had some rice and sesame in the house, enough for six or seven persons, and that she would have them dressed for the company which he meant to invite to dinner; and as soon as she was up in the morning, she took the sesame and peeled it, and exposed it in the sun to dry, and desired one of the servants to watch it, and to keep off the birds and dogs from it; but the servant neglected to do as he had been ordered, and a dog came by, and spoiled it; and after this the wife did not choose to have it served at table, but carried it to the market, and exchanged it for the same quantity of impeded sesame; and I happened to be standing near at the same time, and heard a person remark, that she had certainly not done this without some good reason: you must therefore imitate the prudence and good management of this woman, and contrive some other means of getting the better of the rat; and if you will have the goodness to give me a spade, I will dig into his hole, and see what he is about. Upon this, continued the rat, the religious man borrowed a spade from one of his neighbours, and brought it to his guest; and it happened, that I was at that moment in a hole which did not belong to me, and overheard the whole of their conversation, but in my hole was a purse, containing an hundred pieces of gold, but how it came there, I am unable to say. Then the guest dug till he discovered the purse, which he took up, and carried to the religious man, and told him that it was that which had enabled the rat to perform all his tricks, because wealth was the source of strength and power; but that when the purse was removed, he would be unable to repeat what he had so successfully executed before.

The next day the rats came to me, complaining of great hunger, and telling me that I was their only support; so I went with them to the place, whence I was accustomed to spring into the basket, and attempted it in vain; upon which my companions, seeing the state to which I was reduced, left me, and became my declared enemies, losing no opportunity of injuring me. I then began to reflect on the instability of friendship, and on the mercenary views of those who are often its warmest advocates, and I made the painful discovery that the promised accomplishment of our hopes and expectations often becomes stationary, and then passes into disappointment, where the help of riches is wanting, as the water from the mountain torrent when it finds no passage to the river, rests in the valley, and is at length sucked up by the earth. I found also that the memorial of a man is dependent oft the possession of relations and children, and that wealth establishes a reputation for understanding and wisdom, whilst the absence of it in clouding our views in this life throws a gloom over the mind, which darkens the prospects of the next. The distressed man is like a tree in a salt soil, which is eaten on every side, and deprived of nourishment; and what is a greater evil than this, poverty generally nourishes in the breast the passions of hatred and calumny, arising from the distrust with which the poor man is regarded, and from the suspicion which even his virtues excite; for his courage is called rashness; his disposition to be liberal, did he but possess the means, is stigmatized as profusion; his gentleness is degraded into weakness; and his peaceable temper branded with the name of stupidity: and who would not rather embrace death, than be exposed to this train of ills, from which the only relief consists in asking a pittance at the hands of the covetous, to which the noble-minded man will submit with greater reluctance, than to the sentence which dooms him to extract the poison from the mouth of a viper, and swallow it. Now I was watching the guest as he took away the purse of gold, which he divided with the religious man, who put his share into a bag, and placed it near his head when he went to bed; and seeing this, I was desirous of getting possession of it in order to recover my power, and restore my lost credit with my friends; for this purpose I was stealing quietly into the room of the religious man as he was asleep, when the guest, who was fully awake, observing me, gave me a violent blow on the head with a stick, which made me hurry again to my hole; and when the pain had subsided, I ventured out again, as I was very hungry, in search of something to eat; but I could not escape the notice of my enemy, who struck me a second time so violently, that he brought blood, and I had just strength enough to crawl to my hole, and then fainted away; and this was sufficient to fill me with such a disgust for money, that I could not hear it mentioned without fear and trembling; and I was persuaded, that the greatest part of the misery which is in the world arises from inordinate desires, which are an endless source of calamity and trouble. I therefore determined to quit the house of the religious man, preferring the hardships of wandering about in the open fields in search of food, to the uncertain subsistence with which I was now threatened; and it was in my new habitation where I was visited by my friend the dove, that became casually acquainted with the crow, who having informed me of the intimacy which existed between her and you, and of her desire to go to you, proposed to me to accompany her, to which I readily assented; for I dislike solitude, and think no pleasure can be compared with that, which is enjoyed in the society of persons who mutually love and esteem each other; and I learned by experience, that honesty and integrity will supply the place of worldly possessions, provided we have only enough of the good things of this life to keep off the evils of hunger and thirst: and these are my real sentiments, which I trust will procure for me your friendship and regard.

As soon as the rat had done speaking, the tortoise addressed him thus: I acknowledge the truth and propriety of what you have said; and with respect to certain notions which appear to have taken possession of your mind, it is fit that you should prove the sincerity of your declarations by a corresponding behaviour. The physician who is acquainted with the remedy for a disease and does not apply it, is neither esteemed for his knowledge, nor does he benefit his patient; and it would equally ill become you to make so little use of your understanding, as to repine at your want of fortune. Riches are as unnecessary to call forth the lustre of real worth, as the exertions of the lion’s strength to prove that he is endowed with force; on the other hand where character is wanting, the abundance of wealth is as incapable of procuring esteem for its possessor, as the ornaments round the neck and feet of a dog are of proving his value. Let not therefore the necessity to which you have been reduced of wandering about, be a source of uneasiness to you, for travelling is as serviceable to a person of understanding, as strength is indispensable to the natural habits of the lion; but be zealous in seeking by contentment, consolation for the losses which you have suffered, and your life will pass on as undisturbed as the water in its course downwards. The prudent and the patient seldom miss their aim, but distinction and renown are as incompatible with irresolution and sluggishness, as a young woman is unfit for the society of an old and decrepid man. The shadow of a cloud in a summer’s day, the friendship of the wicked, the love of women, and a false report, are not more perishable in their nature than worldly possessions, which a sensible person therefore will never regret, making his real wealth to consist in his understanding and the consciousness of having done his duty, which, whilst they are the surest treasures in this life, throw no impediment in the way of preparation for the next, which the uncertainty of our existence should render an object of unceasing care and concern.

The reception, which the rat had received, was very agreeable to the crow, who expressed her satisfaction to the tortoise: You have filled me, she said, with indescribable joy, which, I hope, may return into your own bosom, for the purest bliss is what is derived from the fellowship and brotherhood of friends, who are actuated by one common feeling of kindness and good-will, and by the desire of mutually assisting and supporting each other; it is in such a chaste and honourable union of heart and hand, that the noble-minded man finds relief under the pressure of any unexpected calamity, whilst he would spurn the sympathy of a soul less dignified than his own; as the elephant who has stuck in the mud, must be indebted for his deliverance to the force and strength of one of his own species.

As the crow was speaking, there came running towards them a roe, and the tortoise was frightened and went into the water, the rat crept into a hole, and the crow flew away and first settled upon a tree, and then mounted into the air, and kept hovering over the roe to see whether he was in search of any thing; but discovering nothing which could excite her suspicion, she called the rat and the tortoise, and they both appeared; and the tortoise, observing that the roe was looking at the water, desired him to drink if he was thirsty, and not be alarmed; upon which the roe advanced, and the tortoise having saluted him, enquired whence he came, and received for answer, that having been continually driven about from place to place by the huntsmen, he had been alarmed in the morning at the sight of an old man, whom he took for an enemy. The tortoise desired him to be under no apprehensions, that they had never seen any sportsmen in those parts, and begged him to remain with them, as he would find food and water in abundance; and the roe accepted the proposal.

Now this select society was in the habit of meeting together at different times in a small summer house, to amuse themselves with the relation of stories and fables; and it happened that the crow, the rat, and the tortoise, assembled one day, and the roe was missing; and they waited for him some time without his making his appearance; and as it began to grow late, they suspected that some accident had happened to him; upon which the rat and the tortoise begged the crow to fly about and see what was passing in the neighbourhood, and she very soon discovered the roe caught in a net, and returned in great haste to inform her companions, and adding her entreaties to those of the tortoise, they engaged the rat, who alone had it in his power, to go and release the roe; and the rat going up to him asked, why, with all his cunning, he had suffered himself to be taken? the roe replied, that cunning was of no avail against the power of destiny: and whilst they were talking, the tortoise arrived, and the roe asked him, what he meant by coming to them; for if the huntsman made his appearance, his weight and slowness of motion would prevent his escaping, whilst he on the contrary could save himself by the swiftness of his feet, the rat could retreat into a hole, and the crow fly away. The tortoise answered, that there was no pleasure in life, when separated from those whom we love; that the eye grew dim, when it could no longer look upon the friend whose presence had cheered it; and the heart felt a pang, when its dearest ties were broken. This conversation had scarcely ended, when the huntsman appeared, and the roe, having at the very instant regained his liberty, ran away and escaped, the crow flew about in the air to see how matters would end, and the rat went into a hole; and the huntsman looking about to the right and the left, and discovering nothing but the tortoise, took possession of it, and bound its legs with a string. And not long after, the crow, the rat, and the roe met together again, and lamented bitterly the fate of their companion. The rat was the first who broke silence, and said, The amount of our affliction will be very grievous suffering; so true it is, that if one false step occurs to interrupt the uniformity of our walk through life, the smoothness of the path offers no security against the recurrence of the danger. Now what has happened to the tortoise, fills me with the greatest apprehensions for its safety. The best of friends are those whose friendship is disinterested, and only ceases with death, and which even surpasses the affection of a parent for his child; but its sweets have now been embittered by the distress which has come upon me, proving that the joys of life are as quickly followed by disappointment, as the rising is succeeded by the setting sun; and the pang which is felt at separating from those to whom we were united by the closest ties, may be compared to the pain which is caused by the rent of a wound, which had begun to heal. The crow and the roe told the rat, that they shared his sentiments on the present occasion, but that words alone would be of no use to the tortoise; that affliction was sent for the trial of man, that mutual services are the test of faithful attachment, that the union of a family is best seen in poverty, and the love of brethren proved in adversity. The rat said, I have thought of a contrivance, by which to release our friend; the roe must endeavour to attract the notice of the hunter and pretend to be wounded, and the crow fly down as if she would feed upon him; at that moment I will run by, and the hunter observing me will probably put down the tortoise, in order to throw at me whatever he has in his hand; at the same time continuing his chase after the roe, who from time to time must suffer himself to be very nearly caught, he will gradually remove further away, and, I hope, leave me sufficient time to gnaw the string by which the tortoise is bound, and we shall escape together. The crow and the roe did as the rat had directed them, and the hunter pursued them; and the roe, following implicitly the instructions which he had received, drew off the hunter, and the rat was able to release the tortoise, and they both saved themselves. By this time the hunter, having given up pursuing the roe, returned fatigued and disappointed, and when he reflected on what had passed, he cursed the earth for being the seat of witchcraft and the habitation of evil spirits; and the crow, the rat, the tortoise, and the roe, returned to their summer-house, and were as well and happy as ever they had been in their lives. And in this manner the rat, notwithstanding his apparent weakness and diminutive size, was able on more occasions than one to effect the deliverance of his friends from impending destruction, owing to the mutual confidence, and sincere attachment, which subsisted between them; and it is a proof, that he who is gifted with understanding and intelligence, and the power of discerning good and evil, is the surest and most profitable companion.

The Owls and the Crows.

The former story being ended, king Dabschelim desired Bidpaï to point out, by relating a fable, the danger of putting confidence in an enemy, notwithstanding the marks of submission and meekness in his conduct which apparently leave no room for distrust. The philosopher then began as follows.

There was on a certain mountain a tree of the kind called Dauah, in which was a nest, which was the habitation of a thousand crows, living under the authority of one who was their chief; and not far off was a cave occupied by a thousand owls, who were also the subjects of a monarchical government. Now there had existed for some time between the two kings a secret enmity and dislike; and one night the king of the owls, accompanied by a great many of his people, made an attack upon the crows in their nest, and killed several of them, and took a number of prisoners; and in the morning the crows went to their king, to complain of what had happened, some with their wings broken, and others having lost most of their feathers; but the greatest misfortune, said one of them, addressing the king, is the discovery, which by means of their audacity the owls have made of our abode, so they can return and renew their attack whenever they please, unless your majesty takes measures to prevent it. And there were amongst the crows five, who were remarkable for their judgment, and had a share in the administration of affairs, and were always consulted by the king in matters of importance. So the king said to the first of the five, What is your opinion on this occasion? and he answered, The wise men have anticipated my advice, by declaring that it is most prudent to fly from an angry enemy: the second coincided with this opinion. Then the king said to them, I cannot approve of the advice which you have given, that we should quit our homes, and abandon them to the enemy, on account of the first disaster which we have experienced from him; on the contrary, we ought to take measures of precaution against his future hostilities, that we may not be fallen upon by surprise; and if he renews his attack, we will boldly advance to meet him, without however unnecessarily provoking or pusillanimously avoiding the combat; and as our country is opposite to that of the enemy, it will be desirable to repair our fortifications, that we may adopt according to circumstances an offensive or defensive system of warfare. Then the king desired the third to declare his opinion, who said, I do not consider the plan of my two companions at all adviseable, but I think it would be more prudent to send out spies into the country, who will be able to inform us of the proceedings of the enemy; whether he is making preparations to rekindle the flame of war, or appears desirous of peace; and if we learn that he is disposed to grant us favourable terms, on condition of our paying him an annual tribute, I strongly recommend that we should accede to his propositions; for it is an old maxim, that a sovereign who is unable to contend by force of arms with an enemy more powerful than himself, ought to make his riches a shield for his country and subjects. The king then asked the fourth crow, what he thought of a peace to be obtained in such a manner; and the crow answered, I see many objections to it, and think it preferable to abandon our homes, and suffer every species of hardship, rather than tarnish our reputation by submitting to an enemy, who in every other respect but that of power is so much our inferior; besides, it is not certain that the owls will be satisfied with the tribute which we offer them; or at best they will make a treaty with us, of which the articles will be so obscure, that they will never be at a loss for a pretext to break it, whenever it suits either their convenience or their interest. It is an old rule, that you should make advances to your enemy to a certain extent, with a view to the accomplishment of any secret purpose; but by no means expose your intentions, and incur the risk of failure, by a gratuitous and rash display of confidence and frankness; for the pretensions of an enemy will rise or fall, in proportion to the reluctance or readiness which he observes to satisfy them; as a piece of wood placed in the sun, gives a great or a small shadow according to the inclined direction which it receives; and as I foresee that the owls will not be satisfied with reasonable terms, it would perhaps be better to decide at once upon open war. The king then called upon the fifth, to declare what course he thought best to be pursued under the present circumstances; whether peace on the terms which had been suggested, would afford security for the future; and if this did not appear likely to be the case, whether it would be better to quit their habitations, or oppose force to force. The crow replied, Success is not to be expected from resistance, when the person to whom it is offered is superior in power: and a sensible man will never so far undervalue the strength of his enemy, as knowingly to risk his safety in an unequal contest; add to which, I still entertain the same fears as formerly of what the owls may do, though they do not declare war against us. The prudent man will upon every occasion be upon his guard against an enemy, whose means of injuring him do not depend on the greater or less distance by which he is removed; and who can supply the want of large resources by stratagem and cunning; therefore besides the personal danger with which we should at least be threatened, an open rupture would certainly entail upon us a great expence, and in the end possibly engage us in the labyrinth of negociations of which the issue is uncertain. When a king is distinguished for the secrecy with which he guards confidential communications, and for the prudence with which he chooses his ministers, and is moreover honoured in the eyes of men, it is fit that he should reap the fruits of his virtues. Now there are secrets which are only communicated to a few people; others which become a subject of greater notoriety; but some there are, which can only be safely entrusted to the discretion of two persons; and of this latter description is the affair of state, about which your majesty has done me the honour to consult me; and my opinion therefore, though regarding a matter of public interest, must be considered as of a private nature. Upon this the king rose up and retired with the crow, and the first question which he asked him was, if he knew how the quarrel began between them and the owls? It originated, answered the crow, in a speech which a certain crow made to an assembly of cranes, who had met together in order to choose the king of the owls for their sovereign. Whilst they were deliberating, a crow flew over their heads, so they determined, if he settled amongst them, that they would consult him on the propriety of the choice which they were about to make. They had scarcely agreed upon this before the crow appeared in the midst of them, and being asked his opinion, spoke as follows: If the peacocks, the geese, the ostriches, and the doves, were destroyed from the face of the earth, and the race of birds was almost entirely extinct, still what motive could possibly induce you to make an owl your king, who is not only the ugliest bird to look at, but remarkable at the same time for his bad character and profound ignorance, united to a violent temper, and a want of all generous feeling; besides this, his partial blindness, for he is at least unable to support the broad light of day, and natural stupidity render him totally unfit for so distinguished a post; unless you have secretly in view to declare him nominally your sovereign, reserving to yourselves the whole direction and administration of affairs, as the hare did, when she said that the moon was her sovereign. The cranes being desirous of hearing the story, the crow continued: There was a certain country, where the elephants, after a length of time, began to suffer very much from hunger and thirst, for the springs had failed, the ground was parched up, and all vegetation was destroyed; and when they were no longer able to support the great drought which prevailed, they made a complaint to their king, who sent out persons in every direction in search of water; one of whom soon returned with the information, that he had discovered a fountain, called the fountain of the moon, where there was a very abundant source of water. The king of the elephants therefore, attended by his companions, repaired without delay to the fountain, which happened to be situated in the country belonging to the hares, a great many of which they trod under foot and killed. So the hares begged an audience of their sovereign, and informed him of the conduct of the elephants; and the king said, Let every one who has any advice to give, at once declare it. Then one of the hares, named Firouz, who was known to the king for the soundness of her judgment, and the extent of her information, proposed to the king to send her to the elephants, accompanied by some trusty person, who might report all the proceedings of her mission. The king said to her, You are worthy of being trusted, and I approve of your proposal, therefore equip yourself for your journey, and go to the elephants; but recollect that it is by discretion and good sense, united to moderation, and grafted upon real worth, that an ambassador justifies the choice of his master, and that affability and conciliating manners alone can win the heart; whereas an unbending spirit and uncourteous behaviour will only exasperate the feelings. Then the hare set out on her journey one moon-light night, and came to the place where the elephants were; but was afraid of going very near them, lest one of them should tread upon her without perhaps intending it; but she went up on a hill, and called aloud to the king of the elephants, and said, The moon has sent me to you; and if my language in obedience to my instructions should appear objectionable, I must trust for my justification to the character in which I appear. The king of the elephants desiring to be further acquainted with the object of her mission, she continued: He who, owing to a successful effort against a weak enemy, is led to believe that his strength is irresistible, often pays dearly for his presumption, in a contest with a more powerful opponent; and you, O king, relying on your superiority over the other beasts, overlook the consequences of your temerity in drinking at and polluting the fountain of the moon, who has directed me to caution you against a repetition of this insult, threatening, in case of your disobedience, not only to withdraw the light which she so graciously dispenses, but to effect your destruction; and if you have any doubts about my mission, I will accompany you to the fountain, and convince you of the truth of it. The king of the elephants was surprised at the speech of the hare, and went with her to the fountain, and looking down saw the shadow of the moon in it: then Firouz said to him, Take up a little water with your trunk and wash your face, and humble yourself before the moon. Then the elephant put his trunk into the fountain and disturbed the water, and seeing that the moon appeared to be in motion, he exclaimed, What is the reason that the moon trembles? she is surely angry at my having touched the water with my lips. Firouz by her answer confirmed him in the persuasion; upon which he bowed a second time to the moon as a sign of his repentance for what he had done, and promised that neither he nor his companions would ever again be guilty of the same fault.

Then the crow, after enlarging for some time on the deceitful and treacherous disposition of the owls, said, The worst qualities in a sovereign are falsehood and perfidy, and whoever places confidence in one of this character, will experience the fate of the hare and the nightingale, when they referred their quarrel to the cat. It happened that I had a nightingale for my neighbour at the root of the tree in which I had made my nest, and we passed a great deal of our time together; at length one day I missed my friend, without being at all apprised of his intended departure; and during his absence a hare came and took possession of the place which he had left; as I did not think it necessary to interfere, she remained there some time; till the nightingale returning and finding the hare there, desired her to remove. The hare disputed the claims of the nightingale, and challenged him to make good his pretensions; upon which the nightingale replied, that there was some one not far off who would settle their dispute, and mentioned a cat who lived on the bank of a neighbouring river, and who was at peace with all the world, and so abstemious, that he was contented with the grass of the field and the water of the river. The cat being thus appointed the arbiter between the hare and the nightingale, I was anxious to see the issue of the quarrel, and therefore followed the parties to the place of meeting, to be present at the decision of this abstemious judge. As soon as the cat saw the hare and the nightingale coming towards him, he stood up, and prayed with great humility and devotion; upon which they approached him with all the marks of reverence and respect, and entreated him to settle the point of difference which had arisen between them. Then he desired them to state their case; and they had scarcely begun, when he said to them, Old age, which every day presses more heavily upon me, has rendered me nearly deaf; I therefore beg of you to come nearer, that I may hear distinctly what you have to say: upon this they went up close to him, and related every thing which it was necessary for him to know, in order to give his opinion. The cat being thus informed of the origin as well as of all the particulars of their quarrel, addressed them in the following terms: I call upon you both, in the name of the most sacred obligations, to demand nothing but what is just and right, for rectitude of intention is always accompanied by a self-approval, which awaits and can support with unbending fortitude the injustice of fortune; whilst unauthorized desires, though crowned for the moment with success, are in the end pernicious. The greatest treasure which the man of the world can possess, is a productive store of right conduct, which is more profitable than mines of wealth, and more permanent than even the constancy of friends; and a person of understanding will fix his views on this imperishable good, whilst he is taught to despise every less substantial gift. The value of riches in the opinion of a sensible man, is no greater than that of the earth on which he treads; the society of a woman, when displaying the captivating allurements of her charms, as dangerous as the approach of a venomous serpent; but man, as an object of our benevolence, is esteemed a second self. The cat continuing to speak in this strain, the hare and the nightingale insensibly lost all fear, and by degrees approached nearer and nearer to him, till at last, watching his opportunity, he suddenly sprang upon them, and killed them. The crow in continuation said, that in addition to all the bad qualities enumerated, there were many others which made the choice of the owl for a king unadviseable. So the cranes were convinced by the speech of the crow, and immediately desisted from their purpose.

Now it happened that an owl was accidentally present, and had heard the whole of what had passed; and as soon as the determination of the cranes was declared, he addressed the crow, and said, Your language has filled me with uneasiness and apprehension, and I am at a loss to account for your conduct on this occasion, not being aware of having offered you any provocation. The tree which has felt the stroke of the axe will sprout again, and the cut which a sword has given will close up and heal, but the wound which the tongue inflicts is incurable; the point of the spear may be drawn out from the flesh which it has pierced, but the weapon of speech remains fixed in the heart which it has reached. A flame may be smothered by pouring water upon it, and the bane of poison subdued by its antidote; sorrow can be lightened by patience, and an unfortunate attachment cured by absence; but the fire, which malevolence has kindled in the bosom, defies all attempts to extinguish it; from henceforth there will be eternal enmity and hatred between us and you. The owl after this went away in a great passion to inform his sovereign of what had passed. Then the crow repented of what he had done, and reasoning with himself, said, It was the height of folly and madness in me to make use of language, which will entail upon me and my companions a long train of evil consequences. I wish I had not been so unreserved in my remarks upon the owls; for though there is perhaps scarcely any bird which does not entertain the same opinion of them as my self, and probably has more to alledge against them than I have; yet a secret dread of the consequences which I have overlooked, and a knowledge of the punishment which awaits unseemly and injudicious sallies of the tongue, have imposed silence upon others; whereas on the other hand my judgment has been so far led astray by a disregard to all the restraints of prudence, that every word which I have uttered was more irritating and sharper than a pointed spear; and this behaviour is at variance with all sound maxims of conduct; for the sensible man, however confident of his own strength and of his high claims, should be as cautious of creating himself enemies by an unreasonable and presumptuous display of his superiority, as, a person would hesitate to swallow poison, though he is in possession of its antidote. He who is guided in his actions by just views, has no occasion to talk beforehand of the glories which await him, as if they could only owe their existence to the prophetic language in which they have been announced to the credulity of the world; for his excellence and merit standing the test of time, and rising superior to the trials to which they are exposed, will shine forth at last, and procure for him the reputation which he deserves; but claims to distinction which have no other support than the parade of words, with which they are fenced round, will sooner or later discover the weakness of the foundation on which they rest; and I have certainly been guilty of very culpable indiscretion in speaking on a subject of so much delicacy and importance, without having previously consulted any one of my friends, or reflected on what I was about to do; for whoever neglects the experience of former times, and acts without due consideration according to the dictates of his own unassisted judgment, is exposed to difficulties and inconveniences, which he might have avoided by a moderate share of reflection and prudence.

The crow having expostulated with himself in this manner went away, and this was the origin of the quarrel between us and the owls: now with regard to the policy of open war, I have already declared my disapproval of such a measure, and am of opinion, that it would be possible to contrive some expedient, without having recourse to hostilities, to obtain what we wish, and therefore beg leave to relate the story of the monk who was robbed of his kid. A monk had bought a fat kid for a sacrifice, and led it away, but was observed by some persons near him, who agreed amongst themselves that they would endeavour to rob him of it; upon this one of them came up to him, and asked him, what he intended to do with the dog which he was leading away; a second and then a third repeated the same question, till at length he no longer trusted his own eyes, but fancied he had been cheated by the person who had sold him the kid, upon which he let it go, and the others went off with it. Thinking therefore on the present occasion that we may accomplish all what we desire by some device which will escape the penetration of the owls, I entreat the king to order my tail and all my feathers to be plucked out, and to have me thrown at the foot of the tree, and then to retire with all his attendants. This being done, the crow began to mourn, and to send forth the most pitiful groans, till some of the owls having heard him were attracted by the noise, and coming and seeing the state in which he was, lost no time in informing their king of it. The king determined to have the crow questioned, and commanded an owl to ask him who he was, and where the other crows were; upon which the crow told his name, and appealed to the state in which he was as a reason for giving credit to what he might say. It was then told to the king of the owls, that this was the vizir and principal counsellor of the king of the crows, and it was immediately agreed upon to find out, if possible, by interrogating him, what the crime could be for which he had been so severely punished; and to the questions which were put to him for this purpose the crow answered in the following manner.

The king was one day taking the advice of his counsellors on the important question of peace or war between you and us, and as I happened to be present, I took the liberty of observing to his majesty, that we were totally unable to contend with the owls, who were both more powerful and more intelligent than us; and I gave it as my opinion, that we should make peace, even though we might be reduced to the necessity of purchasing it; that if the terms were accepted by the owls, we should be at liberty to fly about unmolested wherever we chose; whereas, on the other hand, if we obstinately preferred war, that the issue could not under any supposition but be unfavourable to us. At the same time I dwelt on the comparative advantages of peace and war, enforcing my arguments by illustrations, and examples taken from the histories of former times, tending to show the irreconcileable hatred of an enemy, who has the means of avenging any affront that is offered to his power and superiority; and I instanced the tender plant which, yielding to the gale which passes over it, escapes being broken, as a proof of the good policy of timely submission; but nothing that I could advance had any weight, but on the contrary produced an opposite effect, and rather inflamed than mitigated the ardour for war; and more than this I was suspected of treachery, and of being secretly attached to the interest of the owls; and the advice which I had conscientiously given was rewarded in the manner you see, and from that period I have heard nothing either of the king or his people.

The king of the owls was no sooner acquainted with the speech of the crow, than he called upon one of his vizirs for his opinion, as to the manner in which he ought to be treated; who replied, My advice is, that the utmost dispatch should be used in putting him to death; for as long as he lives, we can never be sure that he will not contrive some plot against us; and as he is without doubt one of the principal crows, his loss to the community will be very sensibly felt. It has been truly said, that it is no proof of wisdom to miss a favourable opportunity of striking a decisive blow, when the prospect of almost certain success challenges the attempt; and that where the means which were in our power of accomplishing a vast undertaking have been neglected, we deserve to be reminded hereafter of our folly and irresolution, by seeing our hopes for ever annihilated; and whoever spares an enemy whose inability to defend himself renders his destruction inevitable, will at last see his error, when the increasing though unsuspected power of resistance renders his purpose no longer practicable. The king then desired to know the sentiments of another vizir, who said, My opinion is, that you should not kill the crow, for a needy and unprotected enemy is an object of pity, and should disarm the hand which is raised against his life; and if his defenceless state does not give him a right to be treated with kindness, it should at least procure him pardon, and no worse treatment than the thief experienced from the merchant, of whom it is told, that he was very rich, and married to a handsome wife; and one night a thief got into his house with the intention of robbing it, and found the merchant asleep, but his wife was awake; and she being frightened at what she saw, kept close to the side of her husband, a mark of affection and love which he had been a long while unsuccessfully waiting for; the novelty of his situation at length awoke the merchant, and whilst he was asking his wife the reason of this sudden passion, he discovered the thief, and not doubting that he had been the occasion of the good fortune which had happened to him, he told him to keep what he had stolen, as a recompense for the services he had rendered. The king then ordered a third vizir to declare what he thought should be done with the crow, and he gave it as his opinion, that he should be well treated, on account of the information which it might be in his power to give; for a sensible man, said he, will always take advantage of the dissension which exists between his enemies, and torn their mutual animosity to his own profit, as was the case with the monk, who owed his safety to the quarrel between the robber and the evil genius. The king desired to hear the story related, and the vizir continued.

A monk had bought from a man a milch cow, which he was leading away to his home, when a robber met him, who wished to steal from him his beast; and not far off was an evil genius, who was thinking by what means he could get the monk into his power, and who came up to the robber, and asked him who he was, and was answered, I am a robber, who intend to steal this cow when the monk is asleep; and now have the goodness to give an account of yourself, said he, addressing himself to his inquisitive companion, who replied, I am an evil genius, and I purpose carrying off the monk himself when he is asleep. By this time the monk had arrived at his house, and having tied up his cow, he supped and went to bed. Then the robber and the evil genius disputed, who should first put his plan into execution; and the evil genius said to the robber, If you begin by stealing the cow, the monk will probably be awakened by the noise, and assemble the people in the house, and my purpose will be entirely frustrated; I therefore beg of you to look quietly on, whilst I am employed in securing the monk, and you will then be unmolested in your attempt to steal the cow. This proposal did not please the robber, who thought that the monk would awake at the first effort which the evil genius might make to secure him, and that he should therefore be deprived of the booty which he anticipated; so he proposed to the evil genius to give him the precedence in the accomplishment of their projected plans; and they continued quarrelling in this manner, till at length each of them proclaiming in an audible voice what the other intended to do, the monk and his neighbours were awakened by the noise, and the two rogues fled away in haste.

Then the vizir who had first spoken, and who had advised the killing of the crow, said, I think that the object of the crow has been to deceive us, and his words, owing to their riot having been duly weighed and examined, seem likely to produce inattention to a measure which our real interest imperiously calls for; I therefore take the liberty of cautioning the king against embracing a determination, which may be productive of mischief to him, and expose him to the risk of being as fatally deceived, as the carpenter was, who chose rather to give credit to what he heard, than to believe what his own eyes had witnessed; for it is told of him, that he had a wife, of whom he was very fond, but who was secretly attached to another man; and the husband being informed of this, was desirous of having some stronger proof, than public rumour of his wife’s infidelity; he therefore told her that he had received orders to go to a city at some distance on business of the king, and desired her to get ready what was necessary for his journey, The wife was delighted at the prospect of her husband’s departure, which would remove every impediment to her enjoying the society of her lover. Then the husband pretended as if he would leave the house, and told his wife to shut the door after him; but instead of going out, he stole privately into a corner behind the door, where he remained hid till his wife retired; he then removed quietly into his bed room, and concealed himself under the bed. Now the wife had lost no time in sending to her lover, to beg him to come to her, and he obeyed the summons, and went and passed the night with her. The merchant at length grew very drowsy, and fell asleep; and having stretched out his legs from under the bed, his wife immediately recognised them, and calling to her aid all her presence of mind against the danger of discovery, with which she was threatened, she said to her lover, Ask me with a loud voice whom I love most, my husband or you: and as soon as he had put the question to her, as she desired, she answered angrily, What authorizes you to ask me this question? do you not know, that the heart and affections of a woman take no part in the most intimate and unequivocal intercourse which she allows her friend, whereas a husband awakens all the tender feelings which either a son or a brother are capable of exciting, and is as dear to his wife as her own existence! As soon as the husband heard these words, the bad opinion which he had entertained of his wife gave way to other thoughts; and though he was distressed at the suspicious appearances to which her frailty had given rise, every feeling of rancour or ill will quickly subsided, in the persuasion which he felt of the sincerity of her attachment; he did not however think it prudent to leave his hiding-place till the morning, when he was sure that his rival was gone; then he came out from under the bed, and found his wife asleep, and he sat down by her, being unwilling to disturb her; and when she awoke, he said to her, O joy of my heart, sleep on, for you have passed a restless night; and I have only been restrained, by a regard for your honour and reputation, from calling your visitor to an open account.

Now the king was not convinced by the arguments of his vizir, but ordered that the crow should be taken care of, and treated with kindness and attention; and some time after, the crow, being in the presence of the king, with several of the owls, amongst whom was the vizir who had recommended his death, said to his majesty, You are now fully informed, O king, of what I have experienced from the crows, and will find it pardonable, that I seek to be revenged for the insult which has been offered to me; but having considered the matter, I am persuaded that I never shall be able to accomplish what I wish, as long as I remain in my present state; but there is a tradition handed down to us by the sages of old, that whoever commits his body to the flames, performs the most acceptable sacrifice to heaven; and that whatever he prays for whilst he is burning in the fire, is instantly accorded to him; if therefore it meets with the approbation of the king, I will undergo the trial, and pray to be changed into an owl, by which means I shall become a more certain and hurtful enemy to the crows, and have it in my power to execute my purpose of vengeance. Upon this the vizir, who had advised putting the crow to death, interrupted him, and said, When I consider the speciousness of your language, which is intended to throw a cloak over the corrupt motives of your conduct, I can only compare you to wine, that has a good taste and smell, though it is mixed with poison. Do you think that your substance and composition will be changed by the burning of your body, or would you persuade us that this experiment will produce an alteration in your person and being? Nature will maintain her right as inviolably, as in the case of the female mouse, who having the choice of a husband between the sun, the wind, the cloud, and the mountain, became at last the partner of the male of her own species.

It is told of a religious man, who never failed to obtain what he prayed for, that he was one day sitting on the shore of the sea, and a kite flew by him with a young mouse in its claws, which falling down near him, he took it, and wrapped it up in a leaf, and carried it home; but fearing that it would be difficult for him to bring it up in his family, he prayed to heaven that it might be changed into a young girl; and his prayer was heard, and his petition immediately granted: he then carried her to his wife, and told her that it was his adopted daughter, and desired that she might be treated as if she were his own child. And when the girl had reached the age of woman, the religious man said to her, My daughter, it is now time for you to think of marrying, and I leave you the free choice of your husband. She replied, that as he had left her at liberty to consult her own inclinations, she should prefer a husband who was possessed of uncommon strength. Perhaps, said the religious man, you would have no objection to the sun: upon which he went and addressed the sun, saying, I have a young woman, who is in search of a husband, and his principal qualification must be his strength; have you any objection to marry her? The sun answered, I will direct you to some one who is stronger than I am, and that is the cloud, which is able to prevent the heat of my rays from reaching the earth, and eclipses the brightness of my light. Upon this the religious man made a proposal of marriage to the cloud, who refused his consent after the example of the sun, but recommended the wind as the most suitable husband, who blows, said he, violently against me, and drives me about in the heavens from the east to the west. The religious man then addressed himself to the wind, who referred him to the mountain, whose power and resistance, he added, defied all his attempts to move it: so he went to the mountain, and the mountain, having heard what he had to say, said, that the mouse was his superior in strength, as was proved by his being obliged to afford him an habitation. At length then the religious man offered his daughter to the mouse; and the mouse asked how it would be possible for him to marry her, as the hole where he lived was too small to contain her; and besides this, a mouse was accustomed to marry one of his own species: then the religious man prayed that his adopted daughter might be transformed into her first state, and she returned to what she had been: and this is a faithful picture of what we may expect from you. But nothing that his vizir could say had any effect upon the mind of the king, who continued to treat the crow with great kindness, and to lavish upon him proofs of his consideration and regard; so he spent his time very pleasantly; till at length when his feathers had grown again, and he had made all the observations which suited his purpose, he flew away, and returned to his companions, and being admitted to an audience of the king, he begged permission to communicate the information which he had acquired; which being granted, he spoke as follows.

The owls are living upon a mountain abounding with wood, and not far off there is a flock of sheep, and a man watching them; we shall therefore have no difficulty in procuring a light, and having set fire to some dry wood, we will put it into the holes in which the owls are, adding fresh fuel as often as is necessary, and fanning the flame with our wings, by which means our enemies will be suffocated by the smoke; or if any one endeavours to escape by flying out, he will be burnt to death. The crows obeyed punctually the instructions they had received, and having in this manner destroyed the owls, they returned quietly and unmolested to their own homes.

Then the king asked the crow, how he had been able to endure the company of the owls, as the society of the wicked must be so insupportable to the good. It is very true, replied the crow; but a man of sense, when any weighty matter seems pregnant with mischief to himself and those with whom he is connected, will submit without reluctance to the severest trials of his patience, when he has the prospect of a happy issue to his endurance and resignation; he neither repines at the pains which he is obliged to undergo, nor at the mortifying humiliation of a temporary compliance with the will of an inferior, looking to the attainment of the object which he has in view as a sufficient recompence for all his toils and sufferings. The king then desired the crow to give him some account of the intellectual attainment of the owls. I did not find, he replied, any one who possessed the least understanding, except the vizir who endeavoured to procure my death. They proved their utter want of judgment and good sense, by the little attention which they paid to my case, and forgetting the credit in which I had stood with the crows, they were so far from having suspicions of any plot which I might be contriving against them, that they not only rejected the advice of their counsellor, whose apprehensions were so well founded, but showed me the most unreserved confidence in making me the depositary of their secrets, contrary to the maxim of the wise men, who condemn in a sovereign a gratuitous disclosure of his intentions in the presence of flatterers and sycophants. Nothing, said the king, has in my opinion occasioned the ruin of the owls, but the unreasonable and weak conduct of their king, in listening to the advice of evil counsellors. The observation of your majesty, replied the crow, is perfectly just, and the truth which it contains may rank for importance with those sayings, which experience and time have stamped with the character of incontrovertible maxims. Insolence, for instance, and haughtiness of behaviour are almost inseparable attendants on great good fortune; a passionate love of women is a source of more than probable evil; in the indulgences of the table lie the seeds of disease, as the ruin of a state is almost inevitable under the administration of corrupt ministers. The same authority has also pronounced the proud and imperious man to be an unsuccessful candidate for fame; the false and deceitful companion to be unworthy of finding a friend, and the man of bad conduct incapable of arriving at distinction; nor is it less true, that avarice, which in no instance is free from blame, is often the parent of crimes, and that a sovereign, who either through idleness and indifference neglects the affairs of state, or through weakness, places the reins of government in unserviceable hands, compromises the safety of his kingdom, and the happiness of his subjects.

The king here observed to the crow, that he must have possessed a great deal of self-command, not to have betrayed any impatience under the humiliating character in which he appeared amongst the owls: to which the crow replied, that the temper of mind, which disposes us to support difficulties on account of the profit which follows them, without reluctance and peevishness, is highly praiseworthy; and instanced the example of the serpent, who found a reward for the readiness with which he carried the king of the frogs upon his back, in the plentiful provision of food which it procured him. The king desiring to know how this happened, the crow related the story as follows:

There was a serpent of a very advanced age, whose sight began to grow dim, and his strength to fail to that degree, that it became almost impossible for him to hunt after his food, and he was therefore at times at a loss even for a morsel to eat; one day however he crawled out in the hopes of finding something to support life, and went to a pond, where there were a great many frogs, and where in former times he had often been used to regale himself very plentifully, and he lay at the edge of the water exhibiting signs of great sorrow and affliction. Then a frog asked him the reason of his distress, and he answered, that it was no small cause that had occasioned it; that he had hitherto lived upon the frogs which he was able to catch, whereas at present, owing to some fatality of which he was the victim, if he met with any, he was unable to draw them out of the water. Upon this the frog went to his sovereign, and acquainted him with what the serpent had said. Then the king of the frogs came to the serpent, and asked him what was the matter; and the serpent replied, I was one evening employed in hunting a frog, which took refuge in the house of a religious man, and I followed it thither, and as I was pursuing it in the dark, I bit the finger of the religious man’s son, which I mistook for the frog, and he died of the wound: then I fled away as quickly as I could, and the father followed me, loading me with imprecations for what I had done to his innocent child, and praying, that as a punishment for my crime I might be reduced to the servile condition of being rode upon by the king of the frogs, and of living from his charity and bounty. I am therefore come to you according to the curse which hangs over me, to await your will and pleasure. Then the king of the frogs was impatient to ride the serpent, which he thought would be a great honour and distinction, and having mounted upon him, he was highly pleased and satisfied. Upon this the serpent reminded the king of the state to which he had been doomed, and implored his charitable aid to save him from starving; and the king of the frogs acknowledged the justice of his claims, and that he fairly earned his livelihood by the use which was made of him; and he commanded two frogs to be delivered to him every day, which were sufficient for his support; and his servitude and patient submission to his enemy were therefore in the result rather profitable than injurious to him: in the same manner the security for our persons, and freedom from all apprehensions for the future, which have been put beyond all doubt by the destruction of our foes, were the object, and have become the recompense, of the inconveniences to which I submitted. I found too that meekness and a complying temper would be more effectual in bringing about the purpose which I had in view, than a haughty and assuming deportment, drawing a parallel in my own mind between the power and respective influence of the various qualities which we betray in our conduct, and the natural but opposite phenomena of fire and water, the former of which, notwithstanding the intensity of its heat, will only consume the trunk and branches of a tree, whilst the latter by its chilling moisture will even destroy the roots. And it has been said, that neither fire, nor a disease, nor an enemy, nor a debt, should be despised on account of their apparent insignificance, a maxim which the king has always observed, and in which he has found his account; and it has been laid down as certain, that where two men are in pursuit of the same object, the strongest of the two is always successful; but if they happen to be equal in strength, the victory will declare itself for the more persevering; and if both are endowed with an equal measure of indefatigable patience, that the issue will be favourable to him who has made the greater preparation for the exertions which he will be called upon to employ: and whoever makes war against a king who uses foresight in the measures which he orders, and who is neither rendered arrogant by good fortune, nor beat down by the pressure of ill luck, but like you, O king, determines prudently what is to be done, as well as the time and place for its execution, neither injuring his cause by unseasonable violence and precipitation on the one hand, nor by procrastination and a timid forbearance on the other, but looking to the business in which he is engaged under every point of view in which it is possible to survey it, such a man must inevitably bring ruin upon his own head.

The king here disclaimed all merit for himself, and told, the crow, that his judgment and sensible conduct, aided by the blessing which seemed to be attached by fate to every thing which he did, deserved all the praise; for that one prudent and intelligent person was of more use in counteracting the plans of an enemy, and converting them into engines of his destruction, than a multitude, who had nothing to trust to except their courage and number; and what surprises me the most, added he, is your conduct in being able to listen for such a length of time to the vulgar discourse of the owls, without letting fall a single expression, which might betray your secret views. I never for a moment lost sight of your instructions, answered the crow, and succeeded to the utmost of my wishes, by following uninterruptedly a mild and conciliatory course of action. Indeed, said the king, I am convinced of your worth in this respect: it is true, I have had other vizirs, who could talk plausibly, but without giving any effect to what they uttered; but in you I have found a strong and powerful support, so that I can now enjoy my meals in peace, and take my rest in whatever place I choose, without any apprehensions for my safety; my present situation reminds me of the state of a sick man, who can neither enjoy the pleasures of his table, nor taste the repose of his couch, till he is recovered from his illness; or I may compare myself to the ambitious man, who is tormented by the desire of arriving at fortune and power, and is not at ease, till the bounty of his sovereign has crowned his schemes with success; or to the man who, living in constant dread of his enemy, is a martyr to his fears, till the cause of them is removed; for the mind is lightened by the disappearance of the apprehensions which agitated it, as the hand is relieved by the removal of a heavy weight which it was carrying. I will pray, said the crow, to God, who alone has been the destroyer of your enemy, that he will pour down upon you the blessings of his goodness, and make the excess of his bounty to you the measure of the happiness and prosperity of your subjects: for when a people are not happy under the sway of their sovereign, he may be compared to the excrescence, which: grows under the throat of the she-goat, which the kid sucks, fancying it to be the teat of the udder, and is disappointed of its milk. Tell me, thou faithful minister, said the king, what was the practice of the owls and their king in their wars, and in the management of their affairs: Their conduct, answered the crow, was marked by insolence, haughtiness, arrogance, weakness, and pride; this was the character both of the king and his vizirs, with the exception of him who advised my death; he indeed was wise and intelligent, gifted with foresight and knowledge, and rarely to be equalled in firmness, understandings and sound judgment. The king. And what did you observe in his behaviour, which led you to form this opinion of him? The crow. Two circumstances, which struck me very forcibly: one was, his recommendation that I should be put to death; and the other, the freedom with which he delivered his opinion, notwithstanding the contempt it met with; at the same time his speech was remarkable for moderation and temper; and in combating the arguments of his colleagues he avoided every sort of personality, endeavouring to give weight to what he advanced by examples and stories which bore upon the point under discussion, by which he incurred no risk of exciting the displeasure of the king: and I distinctly heard him say to his sovereign, that a king ought not to neglect, his affairs; that but few people were equal to the task of a great undertaking, and that in no case could it be successfully conducted without prudent management; that the possession of a kingdom was a great acquisition, but entailed upon the sovereign the necessity of unceasing attention to the means of consolidating and securing it; that in the uncertainty of its duration it might be compared to the transitory shadow of the leaf of the Nilouphar, and in the quickness with which it is lost to the passage of the wind; in the instability of its most flourishing state to the casual and temporary connection which a noble-minded man may have formed with a person of an opposite character; and in its rapid decline to the bubbles of water, which are momentarily occasioned by the falling rain.

The Monkey and the Tortoise.

When the former story was finished, king Dabschelim commanded Bidpaï to relate the history of the man, the success of whose pursuit in the fulfilment of his wishes is immediately followed by the loss of what he had obtained. The philosopher replied, that the acquisition of a desired good is often attended with less difficulty than the means of preserving it, and whoever cannot secure the possession of what he has got into his power, may be compared to the tortoise in the following fable.

It is told of a certain king of the monkeys, whose name was Mahir, that being very old and infirm through age, he was attacked by a young competitor for his crown, and was overcome and obliged to take flight; so he retired to the river side, and discovered a fig-tree, and climbed up into it, and determined to make it his home; and as he was one day eating of the fruit, a fig fell down, and the noise which it occasioned by falling into the water delighted him so much, that he never ate without repeating the experiment; and a tortoise, who was below, as often as a fig fell down devoured it; and receiving during some days a regular supply, considered it as an attention towards him on the part of the monkey; therefore he desired to become acquainted with him; and in a short time they grew so intimate, that they often conversed familiarly together. Now it happened, that the tortoise stayed a long time away from his wife, who grew impatient at his absence, and complained of it to one of her neighbours, saying, I fear something has happened unexpectedly to my husband. Her friend replied, that if her husband was on the river side, he would probably have made acquaintance with the monkey, and have been hospitably entertained by him.

Then after some days the tortoise returned to his home, and found his wife in a bad state of health, and apparently suffering very much, and he could not conceal the uneasiness which the sight of her occasioned; and expressing aloud his distress, he was interrupted by her friend, who said to him, Your wife is very dangerously ill, and the physicians have prescribed for her the heart of a monkey. The tortoise replied, This is no easy matter, for living as we do in the water, how can we possibly procure the heart of a monkey? however I will consult my friend about it. And he went to the shore of the river, and the monkey asked in terms of great affection what had detained him so long; and he answered, The reluctance which I felt to repeat my visits, was owing to my being at a loss how to make you any suitable return for the kindness you have shown me; but I beg of you to add to the obligations under which you have laid me, by coming and passing some days with me; and as I live upon an island, which moreover abounds in fruit, I will take you upon my back, and swim over the water with you. The monkey accepted the invitation, and came down from the tree, and got upon the back of the tortoise, who, as he was swimming along with him, began to reflect on the crime which he harboured in his breast, and from shame and remorse hung down his head. What is the occasion, said the monkey, of the sudden fit of sadness which is come upon you? It occurs to me, answered the tortoise, that my wife is very ill, and that I shall not therefore have it in my power to do the honours of my house in the manner I could wish. The intimations, replied the monkey, which your, friendly behaviour has conveyed to me of your kind intentions, will supply the place of all unnecessary parade and ostentation. Then the tortoise felt more at his ease, and continued his course: but on a sudden he stopped a second time; upon which the monkey, who was at a loss to account for this hesitation of the tortoise, began to suspect that something more was intended by it than he was able to discover; but as suddenly repressing every thought that was injurious to the sincerity of his friend, he said to himself, I cannot believe that his heart has changed, that his sentiments towards me have undergone an alteration, and that he intends to do me any mischief, however frequent such appearances may be in the world; and it is the voice of experience which directs the sensible man to look narrowly into the soul of those, with whom he is connected by ties of affinity or friendship, by attending closely to every thing that passes without them; for a wink of the eye, an expression which falls from the tongue, and even the motions of the body, are all evidences of what is going on in the heart; and wise men have laid it down as a rule, that when any one doubts the sincerity of his friend, he should, by unremittingly observing every part of his conduct, guard against the possibility of being deceived by him; for if his suspicions are founded, he is repaid for the violence which they may have offered to his feelings, by the safety which they have procured him; and if they have been entertained without good grounds, he may at least congratulate himself on the measure of foresight which he possesses, which in no instance can be otherwise than serviceable to him. After having indulged himself in these reflections, he said to the tortoise, Why do you stop a second time, and appear as if you were anxiously debating some question with yourself? I am tormented, answered the tortoise, by the idea, that you will find my house in disorder owing to the illness of my wife. Do not, said the monkey, be uneasy on this account, for your anxiety will be of no use to you, but rather look out for some medicine, and food, which may be of service to your wife; for a person possessed of riches cannot employ them in a better manner, than either in works of charity during a time of want, or in the service of women. Your observation, answered the tortoise, is just, but the physician has declared that nothing will cure her except the heart of a monkey. Then the monkey reasoned with himself thus; Fool that I am! immoderate desires, which are not suited to my age, threaten me with destruction, and I now discover too late how true it is that the contented man passes his life in peace and security, whilst the covetous and ambitious live in trouble and difficulty; and I have occasion at this moment for all the resources of my understanding, to devise a means of escaping from the snare into which I have fallen. Then he said to the tortoise, Why did you not inform me of this sooner, and I would have brought my heart with me; for it is the practice of the monkeys, when any one goes out on a visit to a friend, to leave his heart at home, or in the custody of his family, that he may be able to look at the wife of him who has received him under his roof, and be at the same time without his heart. Where is your heart now? said the tortoise. I have left it in the tree, answered the monkey, and if you will return with me thither, I will bring it away. The proposal was accepted, and the tortoise swam back with the monkey, who, as soon as he was near enough, sprung upon the shore, and immediately climbed up into the tree; and when the tortoise had waited for him some time, he grew impatient, and called out to him, to take his heart and come down, and not detain him any longer. What, said the monkey, do you think I am like the ass, of whom the jackal declared that he had neither heart nor ears? How was this? the tortoise asked.

It is told, said the monkey, that a lion in a forest was waited upon by a jackal, who lived upon the food which he left, and it happened that the lion was attacked by a violent disease, which brought on such a state of weakness, that he was unable to hunt for his prey; upon which the jackal asked him the reason of the change which he observed in his manner and appearance, and was told that it was owing to the illness with which he was afflicted, and for which there was no remedy, except the heart and the ears of an ass. The jackal replied, that there would be no difficulty in procuring them, for that he was acquainted with an ass, who was in the service of a fuller, and was employed in carrying his cloths; and he immediately set out, and went to the ass, and as soon as he saw him he addressed him, and told him how distressed he was to find him so thin and emaciated; which the ass accounted for by saying, that his master gave him scarcely any thing to eat. Jackal. Why do you remain any longer with him, and submit to this treatment? Ass. What can I do, or whither can I go? wherever I am, it is my fate to be ill used and starved. Jackal. If you will follow me, I will conduct you to a place uninhabited by men, who you say are your foes, and abounding in food, and where you will find a female ass, whose equal in beauty and fatness was never seen, and who is desirous of a male companion. Let us not lose a moment in going to her, said the ass, and I beg of you to show me the way. Then the jackal led him to where the lion was, but entered alone into the forest, to inform the lion of the spot where the ass was waiting; and the lion went out, and immediately made an attempt to rush upon him, but was unable through weakness; upon which the ass being frightened ran away. Then the jackal observed to the lion, that he did riot suppose he was so weak as to be unable to master the ass. Bring him to me a second time, said the lion, and I promise you he shall not escape again. So the jackal went to the ass, and said, What was the reason of your sudden fright? a she ass, owing to the violence of her passion, gave you, to be sure, rather rude demonstrations of her affection; hut you have only to remain quiet and undismayed, and she will become gentle and submissive. As soon as the ass heard her name mentioned, his desire became uncontroulable, and he brayed through impatience, and suffered himself to be conducted again to the lion; and the jackal preceded him as before, and told the lion where he was, and cautioned him to be well upon his guard, for that if he escaped a second time, he would never return. The eagerness of the lion not to be disappointed a second time of his prey was very great, and he went to the spot where the ass was, and no sooner saw him, than, without leaving him time to prepare for his defence, he rushed upon him, and killed him: then recollecting that the physicians had forbidden his flesh to be eaten before it had been washed and purified, he desired the jackal to take care that every thing which was necessary was done, and that he would shortly come back and eat the heart and ears, and leave him the rest.

Now as soon as the lion was gone, the jackal ate the heart and ears of the ass, hoping by this stratagem to deter the lion from eating any part of the remainder of the animal, and that he should thereby have the whole for himself. Then the lion returned, and asked for the heart and ears of the ass; and the jackal said to him, Do you think if he had had a heart and ears, that he would ever have suffered himself to be brought back, after he had once escaped from destruction? Now do not imagine, said the monkey in continuation to the tortoise, that I am going to be guilty of the same folly as the ass in this fable. You have been endeavouring to deceive me by trick and contrivance; and I have therefore been obliged to practise, and with complete success, the same means in my defence, thereby showing that knowledge and talents can make good the error of a too easy and thoughtless compliance. You are right, said the tortoise, and an honest man will confess his crime; and if he has committed a fault, he does not refuse instruction, that he may profit by the lesson which has been taught him, if on any future occasion he should be entangled in difficulties; like the man, who when he has made a false step and fallen, supports himself on the ground, against which he has stumbled, to raise himself again upon his feet.

The Monk and the Weasel.

On the following day king Dabschelim commanded Bidpaï to relate to him the fable of the man, who betrays too much haste and precipitation in his conduct, without bestowing any thoughts on the consequences which may ensue; and the philosopher began in the following manner.

The man who never pauses for a moment, in order to check the danger of an inconsiderate decision, and reap the benefit of a prudent and cautious hesitation in a matter in which he is engaged, will find occasion to repent of his folly when it is too late, and offer a parallel to the religious man, who in destroying the weasel, unknowingly killed his benefactor. How happened this? the monarch asked. It is told, continued the philosopher, of a religious man, that he lived in the country of Georgiana, and had a wife to whom he was very much attached, and to whom he had been married a great many years, without any prospect of having a family. At length, when all hopes were nearly at an end, his wife became unexpectedly pregnant, and the husband in a transport of joy thanked Providence for its bounty to him, and prayed to heaven that the child might be a boy; and he said to his wife, Rejoice with me, for I trust we shall have a son, who will prove the comfort and joy of our lives, and for whose education and instruction no pains or expence shall be spared. The wife found fault with her husband for indulging in anticipations of the future, of which he could not possibly know any thing; and reminding him of what happened to the religious man, who poured the honey and oil upon his own head, related to him, at his desire, the fable as follows.

A religious man was in the habit of receiving every day from the house of a merchant a certain quantity of oil and honey, of which having eaten as much as he wanted, he put the rest into a jar, which he hung on a nail in a corner of the room, hoping that the jar would in time be filled. Now as he was leaning back one day on his couch with a stick in his hand, and the jar suspended over his head, he thought of the high price of oil and honey, and said to himself, I will sell what is in this jar, and buy with the money which I obtain for it ten goats, which producing each of them a young one every five months, in addition to the produce of the kids as soon as they begin to bear, it will not be long before there is a large flock. He continued to make his calculations, and found that he should at this rate in the course of two years have more than four hundred goats. At the expiration of this term I will buy, said he, a hundred black cattle, in the proportion of a bull or a cow for every four goats; I will then purchase land, and hire workmen to plough it with the beasts, and put it into tillage, so that before five years are passed, I shall no doubt have realized a great fortune by the sale of the milk which the cows will give, and of the produce of my land. My next business will be to build a magnificent house, and engage a number of servants both male and female; and when my establishment is completed, I will marry the handsomest woman I can find, who in due time becoming a mother will present me with an heir to my possessions, who, as he advances in age, shall receive the best masters that can be procured; and if the progress which he makes in learning is equal to my reasonable expectations, I shall be amply repaid for the pains and expence which I have bestowed upon him; but if, on the other hand, he disappoints my hopes, the rod which I have here shall be the instrument with which I will make him feel the displeasure of a justly offended parent. At these words he suddenly raised the hand which held the stick towards the jar, and broke it, and the contents ran down upon his head and face. And you see, added the wife in conclusion, from this story, how unfit it is to talk of any matter out of season, and of whose fortunate or unfortunate issue you are alike ignorant: and the religious man acknowledged the justice of the reproof.

At length his wife was brought to bed of a fine boy, to the great joy of his father, and after some days, when the time arrived for the wife to go through the ceremonies, which were commanded by her religion to take place after child-birth, she said to her husband, Remain with the child whilst I go to the bath, and when I have bathed, I will return. Then she left her husband and the boy, and went to the bath, and she had scarcely quitted the house, before a messenger arrived from the king, desiring the presence of the religious man at court; and he could find nobody to leave with his son, except a tame weasel, which he had caught very young, and brought up, and was as fond of as if it had been his own child. So the father left the weasel with his son, and shut the door of the house, and followed the messenger; and shortly after a snake came out from a hole in the room and approached the child, and as soon as the weasel saw the snake, it sprang upon it and killed it, and tore it in pieces, and some traces of blood remained in its mouth. On the return of the religious man, the weasel came up to him, as soon as he had opened the door, as if it wished to acquaint him with what it had done; but the father observing the spots of blood upon the weasel, without listening for a moment to the voice of reason, concluded at once that it had strangled his child; and without pausing for an instant to ascertain the fact, he struck it with the stick which he had in his hand on the head, and killed it. Then he went towards the child, and found him alive and unhurt, and the snake was lying by him torn into pieces: and after this discovery, he reproached himself bitterly for the haste with which he had acted, and striking himself on the forehead, exclaimed, Would to heaven I had never been the father of this child, and I should have escaped the crime which I have committed! At this moment his wife returned, and seeing the state in which he was, asked him what had happened, and he acquainted her with the whole truth, speaking in high terms of the conduct of the weasel, and charging himself with injustice for the ill return which he had made it for its services. These, replied his wife, are the fruits of haste.

The Rat and the Cat.

Now tell me, said king Dabschelim to Bidpaï, the story of the man, who is surrounded on every side by enemies intent upon his destruction, and on the point of carrying their plans into execution, when it occurs to him to court the acquaintance of one of them, of whose intimacy and friendship he makes so good an use, that he is enabled to escape the danger which threatens him, and shows his gratitude for the service rendered him by his fidelity towards his deliverer. Then the philosopher spoke as follows.

Friendship and enmity are in their nature far from being immutable, for friendship can sometimes degenerate into the opposite feeling, and enmity yield to the dominion of better and more amiable affections; but such changes are not always the result of intention and of an unbiassed and free will, but are often produced by the unusual circumstances in which we are placed, and may be said to owe their birth in many instances to the caprice of accidents. It is right therefore for the man of understanding to be prepared against the occurrence of any unexpected event, that he may be able to rely on the resources of his judgment for the conduct which he may be casually called upon to pursue, whether it respect the attitude of defiance and resistance, which it may become him to assume in face of an enemy, or the familiarity with which he may be called upon to treat a friend; for occasions may arise, where the sensible man will think it adviseable to mitigate the fury, of resentment, and even court the assistance of one to whom he has been hostilely opposed, from motives of interest or self-defence; and that the prudence of such behaviour is rewarded with the desired success, may be shown from the history of the rat and the cat, who being alike beset with difficulties, were both indebted for their safety to an oblivion of their natural dislike of each other, and to a reconciliation which was dictated by views of mutual advantage. And how happened this? said the king.

At the foot of a great tree, continued Bidpaï, was the hole of a cat, whose name was Roumi, and close by, the hole of a rat, called Feridoun. Now sportsmen were in the habit of coming into these parts to take the pleasures of the chase, and a fowler having one day spread his net over the hole where Roumi was, he in an unlucky moment came out, and was caught. Shortly after, the rat crept out of the ground to look for something to eat, and was in constant dread of meeting the cat, till all at once seeing that he was a prisoner in the net, he rejoiced at the captivity of his enemy; but suddenly turning round, he observed a weasel following him, and endeavouring to overtake him, and at the same time he discovered above his head in a tree an owl, who was waiting for an opportunity of flying down, and carrying him off. Feridoun now began to be at a loss what to do: if he retreated, he must inevitably fall into the power of the weasel; if he turned to the right or left, he was sure that the owl would find a moment when he was off his guard to dart down upon its accustomed prey; and if he went forward, he was advancing to his death from the claws of the cat. He therefore reasoned with himself, and said, I am now in a situation of great difficulty, and am on every side surrounded by dangers; it therefore only remains for me to call to my aid the understanding of which I am possessed, and not to be dismayed at the alarming prospect which is before me, nor yield to the suggestions of a timid and wavering policy. The man, whose mind is richly stored, may safely abandon himself to the guidance of his judgment, and place his reliance on the conduct of his understanding, whose resources, where it has been properly cultivated, are as undefinable as the depth of the unfathomable ocean, and will carry their possessor triumphantly through the hardest trials, whilst his good sense will check the insolent and intoxicating presumption of unreasonable hopes, which calling off his attention from the real object, to which his thoughts should be directed, must necessarily lead him astray in the track which he is pursuing. Now under the present circumstances, my only chance of safety depends upon my coming to terms with the cat, who being in no less a state of embarrassment than myself, will probably lend a ready ear to my arguments; and, seriously laying to heart the proposal which I have to make to him, with all the eloquence of unmixed sincerity and candour, will agree to render me all the assistance in his power, as the price of his own delivery by my means. Then the rat approached the cat, and said to him, How do you find yourself? As you would desire, he answered, in trouble and distress. And I, continued the rat, am your partner in misfortune, and I see no prospect of safety for myself (and this is my honest and firm persuasion) but what offers you an equal chance of escaping? You see there the weasel, who is cunningly laying wait for me; and the owl, who is watching me from the tree; and these are both of them your enemies as well as mine; if you will therefore engage not to do me any harm, I will gnaw the net, and release you from your captivity; and thus we shall be instrumental each of us in saving the other, in the same manner as the safety of a ship is inseparable from that of the crew; for the vessel, conducted by skilful hands, rides safely over the boisterous deep, and carries the sailors, who man it, into port, in spite of the violence of wind and waves.

The cat no sooner heard the proposal of the rat, than he gave him credit for his sincerity, and promised to repay his good offices by everlasting gratitude; upon which the rat apprised him, that he must leave so much of the net untouched, as a proper regard to his own security required; and then he entered upon his task; and the owl and the weasel, when they saw what was going on, despaired of their prey, and departed. Now the rat was far from hurrying himself in gnawing the net, upon which Roumi grew impatient, and said, What must I think of your delay in releasing me? You have obtained by my means what you wanted; if you now forget your promise, and betray an indifference to my interest, your conduct will be both ungenerous and base, for a noble-minded person is never slow in discharging an obligation to a friend. My good-will has already been of the greatest service to you, and demands a suitable return, together with an oblivion of the enmity, which till now has subsisted between us, but which is at present effaced by more peaceable feelings; add to which, there is a reward which follows a strict observance of engagements, whilst the consequences of treachery and insincerity are often fatal. The generous man, when called upon to discharge a debt of gratitude, will stifle every emotion of envy or ill-will, and forget, in the service which he is about to requite, any offence of which he may formerly have had to complain. It has been truly said, that no fault draws after it its appropriate punishment sooner than malignity of heart; and no one exposes himself more certainly to the imputation of this dishonourable passion, than he who, refusing the tribute of submission which is offered to him, is too ungenerous to pardon. The rat replied, Friends may be divided into two classes; the one consists of those who act from free will, and the other class of such as only act from compulsion; but the views of both are alike directed to what may be of service to them, and to the means of keeping off what may prove injurious. Where friendship springs from the choice of the heart, it is a source of the closest familiarity; whereas, on the other hand, when it is necessitated by circumstances, the intimacy, to which it gives rise, is weaker, and the temper consequently less open and unsuspicious; for the prudent man will ever be upon his guard against the caprices of one who has sought his acquaintance from accidental or interested motives, and will never extend his good offices beyond the bounds of a safe and prudent compliance. Now in what I have already done for you, I cannot be charged with any breach of promise; and I am compelled to take the precautions of which you complain, lest I should find at last, that I have fallen into as great a danger, as that from which I escaped by the agreement into which we entered. Every action must have its proper season, otherwise the result cannot but be unfavourable; and out of regard to my own safety I have left so much of the net as will keep you a prisoner, till the fowler makes his appearance. I will then gnaw the remainder, when I know that you will necessarily be too much occupied with the means of escaping yourself, to have time to bestow a thought upon me. Then the rat continued to gnaw the net, and on a sudden the fowler arrived, upon which the cat desired the rat to make all the haste in his power, and the net was very soon in pieces; upon which the cat climbed up into a tree, and the rat ran into one of his holes, and the fowler went away disappointed of his game.

Then after a little while the rat came out of his hole, but was afraid of going too near the cat; upon which the latter called out to him, O my good and tried friend, what keeps you at such a distance? come near, that I may reward you for the service which you have done me, and do not break off the intimacy which has begun to unite us as closely as the ties of relationship; for whoever chooses a friend, and then puts an end to the connection by a violent interruption of the commerce which has subsisted, is as unprofitable to the person, on whom he had fixed his choice, as he is incapable of receiving any benefit himself from the acquaintance which he had formed. Now I assure you, that you may command my services, if it is in my power to be of use to you, for you have laid an obligation on me and my family, a proper sense of which on my part, together with the declaration, which I do not hesitate to make, that I do not feel as yet to have made you any return, should banish from your mind all apprehension and fear. In this manner the cat endeavoured to convince the rat of his sincerity and good intentions. To this the rat replied, Secret enmity often lies concealed under the mask of the most friendly professions; and as it is more violent in its effects than an avowed dislike, whoever is not upon his guard against its silent operation, will fall a victim to his neglect and inconsiderateness; like the man, who chose to ride upon the trunk of an elephant, and having fallen asleep, tumbled down under his feet, and was crushed to death. A friend is so named, on account of the service which he may be able to render; and an enemy has acquired his denomination, from the mischief which we are in dread of experiencing from him; but a prudent man, when his interest requires it, will endeavour to conciliate his enemy, in the same manner that he will abandon his friend, when he is no longer safe from his caprices, and power to injure him. Have you not often remarked, how young beasts follow their mothers in expectation of their milk, and how suddenly they quit them when the supply is stopped? It often happens too, that the same reasons which have given rise to a familiar acquaintance, may likewise occasion its dissolution, without being followed by any evil consequences, because no hereditary dislike has contributed to bring about the change: on the other hand, where a friendly connection has been raised on the temporary control of the natural aversion subsisting between the parties who have laid aside their animosity, the intimacy not only ceases with the occasion which gave it birth, but gives way to the return of feelings which had been suppressed, without being subdued; and this is a result, which is no less certain, than that boiling water becomes cold again after it has been removed from the fire. Now of all my enemies, there is no one capable of doing me more mischief than you. Necessity, it is true, has obliged us to come to terms with each other; but the purpose of our reconciliation being now accomplished, I cannot help dreading as an inevitable consequence the revival of your evil disposition towards me. What chance of success have the weak when they cope with the powerful? and what are the fruits of submission to an enemy, who is conscious of his own superiority? Moreover, it is impossible for me to place any reliance on your professions, knowing, as I do, that all you want, is to be able to devour me. Be assured, however, that a person of little power, when he is prudent enough to take the necessary precautions against the assaults of a mighty enemy, is exposed to less danger than one of greater strength, who, despising the resources of an inconsiderable adversary, treats him with confidence and regard. The man of sense will not hesitate for a moment to make peace with his foe, when circumstances call for it; he will even stoop to acts of affability towards him, when he cannot with safety avoid it; but on the first opportunity he will put an end to the connection, which he has formed against his inclination, lest any evil which happens to him may be traced to his too easy compliance and condescension; at the same time he will never violate an engagement which he has contracted, the fulfilment of which he regards as a debt, which he ought to pay, though he will check every tendency towards an undue reliance on his enemy’s professions, from a conviction of the danger which would result from too close an acquaintance, and of the greater security of distant civilities. As long therefore as I remain sufficiently removed from your presence, no thought will arise in my mind to disturb my wishes for your prosperity and happiness; and the only recompense which I desire for the services which you acknowledge to have received from me, is a corresponding anxiety on your part for my welfare; for no other commerce than this, of good-will and benevolent affections, can ever exist between us.

The King and the Bird.

Bidpaï, having finished the preceding story, was commanded by king Dabschelim to relate the fable of two vindictive characters, of whom one suspects and distrusts the other.

There was a king of India, said the philosopher; whose name was Beridoun, and he had a bird called Fanzah, which had a young one, and the mother and her young one had learned to talk so prettily, that the king took great pleasure in them, and ordered them to be placed in his wife’s apartment, and desired her to take care of them. Now it happened that the queen was brought to bed of a prince, and the young bird very soon became accustomed to him, and they used to play together. And Fanzah went every day to a mountain, and brought back an unknown fruit, half of which she gave to the king’s son, and the other half to her own young one, and they both grew very fast in consequence; and the king observing this, showed Fanzah repeated marks of kindness and attention. But as Fanzah was one day absent gathering fruit as usual, the young bird, which was in the room with the prince, dirtied the floor; upon which the child flew into a violent passion, and, taking his play-fellow in his hand, threw him upon the ground, and killed him. Fanzah, on her return, finding her young one dead, was very sad, and cried out in a lamentable tone, Cursed be princes, in whom there is neither faith nor integrity! and woe to him who is hazardous enough to court their presence, when they have neither a sense of honour nor a sentiment of compassion, and when the distinctions which they lavish are only intended as the price of mercenary services! Their breasts are closed against every softer feeling, and they are strangers to the charms of brotherly affection, and to the influence of virtuous habits: they know not how to pardon a fault, nor are they equitable enough to respect the rules of justice; in a word, hypocrisy and improbity are their ruling, passions, for they account for nothing the guilt of the crimes which they themselves commit, and magnify the most trifling offence in others, if it opposes in any degree the gratification of their inordinate desires. This is a true picture of that ungrateful fellow, whose heart is inaccessible to every emotion of pity, and who has been guilty of treachery towards his friend and intimate companion. At these words she darted at the face of the boy, and scratched out his eye, and then flew away and settled upon the roof of the house.

As soon as the king was informed of what had happened, his impatience to catch Fanzah was very great, and he, determined to try every expedient for the purpose. So he approached her, and called out, Come down, Fanzah, for you have nothing to fear. O king! answered Fanzah, the deceitful man is taken in his own snares; and if he escape himself the chastisement which he deserves, his crime is visited upon his children’s children. Now your son has acted treacherously towards mine, and I have lost no time in punishing him as he merited. I acknowledge, said the king, that we have dealt deceitfully with your son, but your revenge being complete, there is no reason why we should retain any ill-will towards each other; so return to us, I beseech you. Never, as long as I live, answered Fanzah; for it is the height of folly to put one’s self in the power of a person who is seeking to avenge himself. The favourable colour which the malevolent man endeavours to give to his conduct, together with his assumed meekness and courteous behaviour, only serve to increase the fear which he naturally inspires, and to make us think worse of him; for he who conceals a passion for revenge in a corrupt heart, possesses no quality on which we may so safely rely for our preservation, as upon our own prudent reserve in keeping at a distance from him, not to mention that active precautions are under all circumstances the best security. In all family connections, as well as in the different relations of life, the sensible man acknowledges the various dependencies which support and keep together the social system, and sets their distinctive value on parents, brethren, wife, sons, and daughters; but he learns to consider himself at times as an individual existing for himself; and this is my case at present, who am no better than a stranger or an exile, and have prepared for myself, in my journey through the world, a load of sorrow and affliction, the weight of which no one will assist me in supporting: but it is now time to take my leave. Your reflections, said the king, would be just, if you had not taken satisfaction for what we have done to you, or if your conduct had been unprovoked by our perfidious behaviour; but as the fault was in the first instance on our side, no imputation can lie against you; you have therefore no reason for distrusting what I say; so come back, and I engage that no harm shall reach you. Hatred, says Fanzah, when it has once got possession of the breast, is more easily augmented than removed, owing to its peevish and irritable nature; and the tongue does not always declare what is passing in the heart, whose secret workings are inscrutable to the outward senses, and can often only be determined by a sort of instinctive judgment. Now my heart will neither bear witness to the truth of your assertions, nor will yours give evidence in favour of what I say. The king. Do you not know, that hatred and malevolence are found amongst the generality of persons, and that a sensible man is more anxious to subdue those passions, than to nurture and encourage them? Fanzah. This is as you observe; it is not however fit, that one who is possessed of judgment should flatter himself with the notion, that a person, whose desire of revenge has been once excited, will forget the occasion of his resentment, or be turned from his purpose; and he who has not forfeited every claim to good sense, will not banish from his mind all apprehension of trick and cunning, as long as he remembers the maxim, that violence and haughtiness often fail, where gentleness and management are effectual in getting the better of an enemy; as the wild elephant is hunted down and taken by means of one that is tame. The king. A person endowed with a noble mind will not forsake his companion, or leave his brethren, or blot out the recollection of former friendship, at the first symptom of alarm for his own safety; in this we may take a lesson from the beasts, for you may have seen persons play with dogs, which they have afterwards killed and eaten; and yet the faithful companion of the same species, notwithstanding he has been a witness of what has happened to his fellows, will not leave his master. Fanzah. Where hatred exists, it must always be dreaded; more especially (because it then sets no bounds to its indulgence) when it has taken possession of the breast of a king; for kings make a matter of conscience of revenge, and look upon the pursuit and attainment of their object as honourable and glorious; and it is a mark of folly to be deceived by the apparent inactivity of this mischievous principle: for a malevolent disposition, when it does not betray itself by any outward and visible effects, may be compared to smothered ashes, which, for want of wood, do not break out into a flame; but continually looking for a provocation, as the fire covets fuel, it no sooner finds an object on which to pour out the bitterness of its gall, than it rages with the fury of a burning flame, inaccessible to the persuasion of kind words or the language of meekness and submission, and only bent upon destruction. If on any occasion he, who has excited in another the desire of revenge, is induced to seek a reconciliation with the person whom he has offended, it must be with a view to some advantage, or as a measure of precaution, and must also offer some chance of success; but I am in too humble circumstances to have any power of changing your sentiments towards me, or even to be benefited by such an alteration, were it possible to be effected; upon the whole then I cannot but augur ill from the renewal of our intimacy, and think it most adviseable that we should separate for ever; so farewell. The king. You must be aware, that no one has it exclusively in his own power either to benefit or injure another; but every thing which happens, either of importance or of little moment, takes place according to the decree and determination of fate, to whose inevitable laws both creation and production, and the subsistence of all things, as well as death and destruction, are all subjected, without any intervention on the part of men; you have not therefore been the willing instrument of any crime in what you have done to my son, nor can he be charged with the imputation of any premeditated offence in his conduct towards yours; but all was determined and brought about by the agency of fate, for whose effects we are not in any way responsible. Fate, replied Fanzah, has been truly described by you; but still the provident man will be upon his guard against the object of his fear, and take precautions against the success of his treacherous plans, uniting a belief in destiny with the use of his foresight and strength; and I know, that the language which you hold is belied by your real sentiments, because it is no trifling matter which has occasioned our altercation; for I have done no less than scratch out the eye of your son, for which you consider nothing short of my death a sufficient atonement; to accomplish which, you are practising against me every stratagem in your power, not recollecting the horror with which the mind is filled at the prospect of death. Poverty, the loss of friends, disease, and old age, are all of them heavy visitations, but the greatest of all afflictions is death; and as no one is a better judge of what is passing in the mind of a sorrowful and distressed person than one who is in similar circumstances, I can surely form a good opinion, from what I feel myself, of what is at this moment occupying your thoughts, and foresee in consequence, that your society would be dangerous to me; let therefore no trace of any recollection of what is past, as far as concerns the conduct of each of us towards the son of the other, remain, except what the change in our mutual relations must render unavoidable. No good, says the king, is to be expected from a person who cannot dismiss from his mind, if required, an object that has engrossed his attention, and deny it for the future any place in his thoughts. The man, says Fanzah, the sole of whose foot has been hurt, cannot walk without making his wound run; and he who is labouring under the ophthalmia, if his eye meets the wind, must necessarily increase the quantity of the sand which brought on his complaint: in the same manner the person, who has excited in another’s breast the desire of revenge, pays dearly for his temerity in offering himself to the notice of the adversary whom he has affronted. Our business in this world is to avoid all risk of the loss of life, and to be prepared for the predestinated course of events, fully persuaded of the little reliance that can be placed on bodily strength, and ever upon our guard against the winning manners of a treacherous companion; for an unreasonable confidence in our own powers will bring us on the road where we meet with dangers at every step we take, and thus become the instruments of our own destruction. Whoever is unable to procure the food which is required for the support of life, or undertakes more than he is able to accomplish, necessarily perishes: and he who does not measure the quantity of meat which he puts into his mouth at once, by its capacity to contain it, is choked in his attempt to swallow it, and dies: and whoever, mistaking the true purport of what his enemy says, suffers himself to be imposed upon by specious language, can no longer pass for a prudent man, and is the chief promoter of his own ruin. It is impossible for any one to discern clearly his own share in the decrees of fate, but his duty is to be provident and careful in the line of conduct which he adopts, and to exert himself to the utmost of the capacities which he is conscious of possessing, showing the force of his mind in his contempt of fear, and in the resources for which he is never at a loss. I trust therefore, wherever I go, that I shall never be in want of that, of which I may have need; for there are five things, which any one may call his friends, which are his surest support on every occasion, his protecting companions in his journey through life, and the source from which he may draw the supply of of his natural wants: the first of these is the knowledge how to guard against evil; the second are virtuous habits; the third, freedom from doubt; the fourth, generosity of character; and the fifth, good conduct: and when a man is in dread of any mischief that may happen to him, he will bid adieu to riches, family, children, and home, in hopes that he may be compensated hereafter for the sacrifices he has made; but he clings fondly to life, for with the close of his existence all his worldly prospects disappear. The most useless fortune is that, of which there is no expenditure; the worst of wives is she who opposes the wishes of her husband; the most unworthy sons are the rebellious, and the disobedient to their parents; the most faithless companions are those who forsake a brother in distress; the most pernicious kings are those whom the innocent fear, and who are unmindful of the interest of their subjects; and the most unserviceable country is that, which neither affords provisions nor security. Now, O king, I should never think myself safe in your presence, nor enjoy any repose in the neighbourhood of your palace: and with these words Fanzah took leave of his majesty, and flew away.

The Lion and the Jackal.

King Dabschelim commanded Bidpaï to relate the story of the king, who admits again into favour the man whom he has severely but undeservedly punished; and the philosopher spoke as follows:

A king who refuses to be reconciled to a man, whom he has severely punished, whether justly or unjustly, endangers the public good; on the contrary, he ought to examine into the condition of the person who has thus incurred his displeasure, and is suffering from the effects of it, with a view to discover in what manner he may be employed for the advantage of the state; and if he finds that he is of the number of those, on whose judgment and fidelity reliance may be placed, he should endeavour to pave the road for his return to favour; for the power and strength of a kingdom cannot be solidly and firmly established, unless persons of this description are at hand to occupy the post of ministers, and fill the various departments of government; and the choice of public servants must be guided by the attachment which they have shown to the existing order of things, and by their approved fidelity as counsellors of state; and these two qualities can only exist, where the judgment is sound, and the will predisposed to what is laudable and right. The duties of a sovereign are various and important, and he requires many advisers and servants for the due administration of affairs; but the number of those who possess the qualifications which I have mentioned is small, and the story of the lion and the jackal will serve to illustrate the truth of what I advance. What is the story? said the king.

It is related, continued the philosopher, of a certain jackal, that he was of very rigid and abstemious habits; and though he passed his time in the society of females of his own species, and with wolves and foxes, he was far from imitating his companions in the jealousies and contentions which sprung up amongst them, and neither shed blood nor ate meat; upon this the other beasts quarrelled with him, and told him, that they were not pleased with his manner of living, nor approved the opinion which he entertained of the merit of his austere practices; adding, that his pretensions to extraordinary piety would be of no use to him, nor give him any superiority over them, for being of the same nature with themselves, he was subject to the same laws, and therefore his aversion to the shedding of blood and eating flesh was ridiculous and absurd. The jackal replied, As long as I do not consider it a crime to keep company with you, it is unjust that you should think unfavourably of me on this account; it is neither the place which he inhabits, nor the society which he frequents, which determine the character of a person, but what passes in his heart, and shows itself in his conduct; for if good and bad actions have no other distinctive property than that arising from the diversity of the scene on which they occur, he who kills a religious man in a mosque would not commit a crime, whilst he who spares his life on a field of battle would be highly culpable. I appear outwardly, it is true, to form a part of your society, but my heart refuses all fellowship with you, and this will account for the difference in our respective behaviour. So the jackal persisted in the manner of life which he had chosen, and became celebrated for his piety and devotion; and his fame reached the ears of a lion, who was the king of those parts, who desired therefore to be acquainted with him, on account of the report which he had heard of his extraordinary reputation. So he sent to him, and desired him to come to him; and on his arrival he received him very graciously, and conversed with him familiarly, and dismissed him: then after some days he sent for him again, and addressing him said, You know, probably, that I have a great many servants and persons whom I employ to execute my orders, but notwithstanding this, I am still in want of further assistance; and as the character which I have heard of you has made me desire to have you in my service, I propose entrusting you with a considerable branch of the public administration, and raising you to the honour of being one of my chief counsellors. Kings, answered the jackal, do well in choosing able assistants in any urgent affair, but it is not adviseable for them to force any one to enter into their service, for no one is diligent in a work which he has been obliged to undertake. Now I have neither inclination to accept any employment under a king, nor experience enough in affairs to justify me in so doing; but amongst the beasts of your kingdom are many to be found of great celebrity, who have both the good will and the means to serve you advantageously, and the emulation which will be excited amongst them by the prospect of royal favour and distinction will turn to the profit of the state. The lion. No more of this, for I am determined to employ you. The jackal. Two classes of men are principally calculated to become the ministers of a king, to neither of which do I belong; the one consists of such as have recourse to every expedient, to obtain the end which they have in view, and are in no alarm for the consequences of their unjust and villanous schemes; the other is composed of men, who are too inactive and sluggish to excite envy; but he who thinks to serve his sovereign with fidelity and integrity, but without the aid of artful management, is disappointed in his expectations, because both the enemies and the friends of the king will unite against him to effect his ruin; the latter, envying him the distinction which he enjoys, will take every occasion to insult him, and make him feel their dislike; and the former will be exasperated against him on account of his faithful and profitable administration of affairs; and how can he hope to escape destruction, when two such powerful adversaries are striving together to bring about his fall! The lion. I shall take care that you do not experience the treatment which you apprehend, and I promise to reward you honourably for the diligence which you display in my service. The jackal. If the king really wishes me well, I beg of him to place me in this desert, where I shall live in peace, and free from anxiety, and shall be satisfied with the food which water and grass will afford me; for the companion of a sovereign experiences more uneasiness and fear in one hour, than any other is exposed to in the whole course of his life; and a scanty meal in quiet and safety, is better than a sumptuous repast that is eaten in the midst of apprehension and dread. The lion. I am listening to what you say; but do not be alarmed at these phantoms of danger, for I cannot dispense with your services, as I have already declared to you. The jackal. Well then, if it must be so, let the king give me his word, that if any of his people are unjust towards me, whether it be one, who, being above me in rank, endeavours to make use of his credit against me; or one, who, enjoying less consideration than I do, quarrels with me on account of this disparity of distinction; he will not decide upon the report which is made of my conduct from any representations of my enemies in person, or by a memorial which is transmitted to him, without all necessary delay and caution in the proceedings, and a scrupulous examination of all the circumstances which bear upon the case. With this assurance, I will engage to assist him to the utmost of my power, and will discharge the duties of the situation, in which he is pleased to place me, with punctuality and diligence, studiously avoiding every act which may bring upon me his displeasure. The lion agreed to comply with the conditions, and immediately gave his treasures in charge to the jackal, and honoured him with greater intimacy than the rest of his companions. And as soon as the attendants of the lion saw this, they were angry and displeased, and began to lay their plans for counteracting the consequences with which this preference threatened them.

Now the lion had ordered some food to be prepared for him, which he found very good, and to have an unusual taste; he therefore ordered the jackal to put it away into some safe place, that he might eat of it again. Then the other attendants took it away privately, and carried it into the apartment of the jackal, and hid it there without his knowledge, anxiously waiting for an opportunity, which they expected would offer itself, of convicting him of a falsehood. In the morning the lion called for his breakfast, and the dish in question was wanting, the jackal being all the time ignorant of the trap that had been laid for him. And the authors of the trick happened to be in the presence chamber; and whilst the lion was asking for the meat, and was very earnest in his enquiries about what had become of it, they looked significantly at each other, and one of them, in a tone which promised to carry conviction to his hearers of the truth of what he uttered, said, We cannot help informing the king of whatever we know to be either injurious or profitable to him, however disagreeable it may prove to one who is interested that the discovery should not be made; it therefore becomes my duty to declare, that a report has reached us, that the jackal has carried the meat to his own apartment. Another said, I confess that I did not see him do this; but it will be right to examine into the business, for it is no easy thing to know exactly the characters of persons. A third said, Forsooth, this mystery was very near escaping detection, but I am now of opinion, that if you search the jackal’s chambers, you will find the meat there, and we certainly ought to submit what has been related of his turpitude and deceit to this easy proof. A fourth said, that if the fact should be established, it would be an instance of treachery combined with the foulest ingratitude and impudence. A fifth said, I am unwilling to suppose that such honourable persons would advance what is untrue; but the surest mode of proceeding would be for the lion to send some one to search the apartments of the jackal. A sixth advised the king to lose no time in commanding the search, before the spies of the jackal could get notice of what was going on: and they continued holding this language, till at last it made so strong an impression on the mind of the lion, that he sent for the jackal, and asked him where the meat was, which he had ordered him to take care of; the jackal replied, that he had given it, in charge to the master of the kitchen, to set it before the king whenever he should call for it: then the lion ordered the head of the kitchen, who was also one of those who had conspired against the jackal, to come forward; which he did, and declared that nothing had been delivered to him: upon this the lion sent a confidential person to search the apartments of the jackal, who found the meat there, and brought it to the king. Then a wolf, who had till now remained a silent spectator, without taking any part in the enquiry which was on foot, and who was too cautious and just to deliver his opinion in a matter, till he had a clue to guide his judgment, approached the lion, and said, If the king is convinced of the treachery of the jackal, it will be impossible for him to pardon him, without being guilty of injustice, if he punishes any culprit hereafter. Then the king commanded the jackal to be taken away, and guarded: upon which one of his attendants exclaimed, I wonder that the king with his good judgment, and his knowledge of business, can entertain a shadow of doubt respecting the deceit which has been practised; and I am more astonished, in foreseeing from all appearances that he will pardon the criminal, in spite of the strong and convincing evidence of his guilt. After this the lion sent to the jackal, to know what defence he could make; and the messenger who was dispatched returned with an answer which he himself had fabricated, which threw the lion into so violent a passion, that he ordered the jackal to be killed.

Now the mother of the lion, who knew that her son had been too hasty in the business, sent and stopped the execution of his orders, and came to him, and said, For what crime have you commanded the jackal to be put to death? and being informed of the reason, My son, she continued, your decision has been too precipitate, and the sensible man always proceeds with cautious hesitation, that he may not have to repent of an injudicious and hasty step, and reap the fruits of a rash and sudden determination; and it is especially the interest of kings to adopt in their conduct this prudent reserve, which resembles, on account of the close connection which it ought to have with every action which they perform, the relation which subsists between man and wife, between a child and his parents, between a pupil and his master, a tribe and its chief, a devout man and his religion, between a people and their sovereign, between a king and power, and between power and understanding. But the chief qualities in a king are vigilance and attention, which, acting upon a knowledge of the characters of those about him, direct each to the proper sphere in which he ought to move, and guard against the intrigues by which they are labouring for the ruin of each other. Now you have tried the jackal, and have had abundant proofs of his fidelity, judgment, and good character, and have shown your satisfaction by the praises which you have bestowed upon his conduct; it is not therefore fit, that you should alter on a sudden the opinion which you had of him, thereby accusing yourself of having misplaced your confidence; for from the moment of his coming to your court, up to this day, he has proved himself to be a faithful and honest counsellor; and it would therefore be unwise in the king to deal so hardly with him for the sake of a bit of meat, granting that he has stolen it; which however I am so far from believing to be the case, that I have no doubt, if the king looks narrowly into the whole business, that those who have been so loud in condemning the jackal, are his secret enemies, and took away the meat, and placed it in his room: so a kite, when it is flying away with a piece of flesh, invites the attacks of the other birds; and a dog with a bone is worried by his fellows. The jackal has been of great use to you, submitting to every sort of inconvenience, by which you might possibly be benefited, and sacrificing his own comfort to your advantage and security by a course of the most undisguised and open behaviour. Whilst the mother of the lion was speaking, one of his confidential friends came to him, and acquainted him with the innocence of the jackal; upon which his mother, when she saw that he was convinced of the truth of the report, told him, that he ought to show no mercy to the person who had accused the jackal falsely, lest his impunity should carry him to the commission of some greater crime; that a sensible man can never be upon terms with a traducer of innocence, who attempts to blacken the lustre of virtuous self-denial, because he is in no dread of punishment in a future life, of which he denies the existence. So bitter are the fruits of impetuous anger, said she, and of an excess of haste, which being unreasonably excited, are often followed by a serious loss, which bears no proportion to the cause from which they sprung; that the best thing which you can now do is to admit the jackal into your favour again, and to treat him with kindness, in order, that no recollection of the injustice which he has experienced may rob you of the benefit of his faithful advice for the future; for there are certain persons, whose friendship should under no circumstances be wantonly lost, such as are known to possess integrity, and honour, and good faith, and a sense of gratitude, and of the binding engagement of promises, and who are distinguished by their love of mankind, and their freedom from envy, and their abhorrence of injustice, and the patience with which they bear the weaknesses of their brethren and companions, however difficult it may be to arrive at this degree of perfection: those, on the other hand, whose society is dangerous, and ought to be avoided, are persons branded with the mark of improbity and bad faith, and a sordid mind, who are remarkable for their non-observance of obligations, and their disregard of all compassionate and pious feelings, and their disbelief of the rewards and punishment of another world. Upon this the lion sent for the jackal, and offered an excuse for his conduct towards him, and promised him satisfaction, and, begging his pardon, told him that he was restored to his former rank. To which the jackal replied, The worst pretender to friendship is he who seeks his own advantage at the expence of one whom he calls his friend, and whose interest he considers as subordinate to his own, following the bent of his passions in violation of the rules of probity and justice; and this is by no means an uncommon occurrence amongst persons who have the credit of being on the best terms. Now since what I have experienced from the king is a matter of public notoriety, let him not accuse me of using towards him disrespectful language, when I declare frankly, that I place no reliance on his word, and consider it unadviseable to become again his familiar companion: at the same time I must add, that it is as impolitic in a king to court the intimacy of one whom he has severely punished, as it is to discard him entirely; for a person possessed of power, when he falls into disgrace, is still entitled to distant respect. The lion, without appearing to have paid any attention to the words of the jackal, said to him, I have tried your disposition and character, and have satisfactory proofs of your fidelity, integrity, and sincerity, and am thoroughly convinced of the treachery of those who have been plotting your ruin; and I rank you amongst the number of those who are the most distinguished for probity and honour. Now one good quality will efface in the memory of the noble-minded man the recollection of many that were of an opposite nature; let us therefore renew the footing of mutual confidence, which will prove a source of joy and satisfaction to both. Then the jackal resumed the post which he had formerly occupied, and was in greater honour than ever with the king, who became every day more firmly attached to him.

The History of Iladh, Beladh, Irakht, and the wise Kibarioun.

King Dabschelim commanded Bidpaï to inform him by what means a king may most highly exalt himself, render his authority secure and lasting, and consolidate his kingdom; whether by clemency, by fortitude, by valour, or goodness. The best security for his kingdom, answered the philosopher, and the safeguard of his power, is the clemency of the monarch, which is the brightest gem in his crown, and the very essence of all his duties, as is proved by the following history.

There was a king named Beladh, very devout and religious, who had a vizir, whose name was Iladh; and the king saw one night in his sleep eight visions, which so alarmed him, that he suddenly awoke, and called together the Brahmins, who were the chief ministers of religion, that they might interpret them. And when the Brahmins appeared, the king related to them what he had seen; and they all declared that the visions were very extraordinary, but promised, if he would grant them a delay of seven days, to return with the interpretation of them. The king having acceded to their request, they retired to a house, which belonged to one of them, to hold their consultation; and being met together, they reasoned amongst themselves, and said, We have acquired indeed a great piece of information, by which we may avenge on our enemies the death of our brethren, who perished yesterday, to the number of twelve thousand: we are now become the depositaries of an important secret of the king, who has required of us the interpretation of the visions he has seen; it is therefore the moment for us to assume a bold and threatening tone, which may frighten him into a compliance with all our demands; and we will insist upon his delivering up into our power his favourites, and those who enjoy the greatest credit at his court, that we may put them to death, declaring that we have consulted our books, and found, that there is no other way of keeping off the evil, which he is apprehensive will happen to him; and if the king desires us to name the persons whose death we pronounce to be necessary, we will say to him, We demand Queen Irakht, the mother of Ghowir, the most honoured and distinguished of your wives, and Ghowir, the most beloved and favoured of your sons, and the son of your noble brother, and Iladh, your friend and companion, and Kal Katib, your confidential adviser, and your incomparable sword, and the white elephant, which no horse can equal in celerity and speed, and the horse which you ride in battle, and the two other great elephants which are with the male elephant, and the quick and strong camel, and the wise, excellent, and intelligent Kibarioun, that we may be avenged of him for all the mischief which he has done to us; and we will say moreover to him, It will be necessary for you, O king, when you have put to death the persons we have named to you, to fill a cauldron with their blood, and sit upon it, and when you get up from the cauldron, we the Brahmins, assembled from the four quarters of the kingdom, will walk round you, and pronounce our incantations over you, and we will spit upon you, and wipe off from you the blood, and will wash you in water and sweet oil, and then you may return to your palace, trusting in the protection of heaven against the danger which threatens you: for if, O king, you will submit without reluctance to be deprived of the friends we have mentioned, and make them the price of your own redemption, you will be safe from all personal danger, your kingdom will continue, and your power remain undiminished, and you will be at liberty to choose for your successor whomsoever you please; but if you refuse to comply with these conditions, we dread either the dismemberment of your kingdom, or your own destruction: and if the king follows our instructions, we shall have it in our power to put him to death in any manner we choose.

Then after the Brahmins had agreed upon their plan, they returned to the king at the expiration of the seven days, and said to him, O king, we have searched in our books for the interpretation of the visions which you have seen, and have examined the affair, which so nearly concerns our glorious and just sovereign, but we are not able to declare our opinion, unless we are left alone with you: then the king sent away all who were present, and as soon as he was left alone with the Brahmins, they acquainted him with what they had previously agreed upon. Then the king said, Death is a greater blessing than life, if I am obliged to kill those who are as dear to me as myself. I know that I must one day certainly die, and that life is short, and that I cannot remain a king for ever; but in my opinion there is no difference between the loss of friends and the loss of existence. The Brahmins said to him in reply, If you will not be offended at the liberty we take, we must declare to you, that you entertain an erroneous notion, when you estimate the soul of another more highly than your own; look therefore to yourself and your kingdom, and do not neglect the means which are offered to you of fixing your future expectations on solid ground, with the prospect before you of a happy reign in the midst of those whom you have honoured and ennobled, unless through the perverted choice of a small in preference to a greater good, you sacrifice yourself to save those you love. Know moreover, O king, that a man clings to life out of affection which he bears to his own person; and as your existence, next to the protection of heaven, depends on the security of your throne, the possession of which is not exempt from many a painful vicissitude, it is not fit that you should consider your kingdom as a vile and contemptible thing, and wantonly expose it to devastation and ruin. Follow therefore, O king, the safe course which we recommend, and, putting aside all other considerations, lay seriously to heart the advice which we have given.

The arrogant and haughty tone of the Brahmins only added to the grief and distress of the king, and he arose from his seat, and retired into his chamber, and fell on his face and wept, and turned himself about as a fish when it is taken out of the water; and began to say to himself, I do not know which of the two evils is the greater, my own death, or that of my friends; and I shall no longer have any pleasure in life if I lose my kingdom, or see my wishes frustrated on every occasion; and where will be the charms of existence, if I am deprived of Irakht! or how shall I possess the means of governing the state or conducting my affairs without my vizir Iladh, and my white elephant, and my famous horse! or how can I deserve the name of a king, if I consent to the death of those whom the Brahmins have pointed out, without whose presence and assistance I shall be left as it were alone in the world!

Now by this time the news had spread abroad in the country of the affliction and sorrow of the king; and as soon as Iladh was informed of it, he very wisely determined not to go to the king and enquire the cause, until he should be sent for; but he went to Irakht, and said to her, The king from the day I entered his service to this moment has never taken any step without my advice and opinion; but he is now engaged in some affair, the knowledge of which he studiously conceals from me, and all that I have been able to learn is, that he has passed some nights with the Brahmins, where no other person was present; and I am afraid, that he has communicated to them some important secrets, and that they will have advised some measure, which may prove injurious to his interests: go therefore, I beseech you, and inform yourself of what he is about, and lose no time in acquainting me with the result of your enquiries, for I am unable to do this myself, and you will probably discover that the Brahmins have been implicating him in some disgraceful business; for you have seen enough of the character of the king to know, that when he is angry, he never stops to ask the advice of any one, or weigh the matter in which he is engaged. Irakht replied, that she had lately had some disagreement with the king, and under those circumstances could not make up her mind to go to him. Do not bear malice, replied Iladh, or let your rancour prevail over your better feelings, for no one but yourself has free access to him; and I have often heard him say, that his sorrow was never so great, but that it was instantly removed by the presence of Irakht: hasten therefore to him and forgive him, and tell him what you have heard; you will relieve his mind from the weight of grief with which it is oppressed, and procure for his people an end to their anxiety.

Then Irakht went, and entered into the apartment of the king, and seated herself by him, and said to him, What is the matter, my honoured sovereign, and what is it that you have heard from the Brahmins? the sorrowful state in which I see you is not to be mistaken, and it is fit that I should be informed of the cause of your grief, that if I cannot procure you an alleviation for your sufferings, I may at least have the satisfaction of sharing your pains. Do not add to my distress, replied the king, by enquiring into the occasion of it, for it is a subject of which you had better remain ignorant. Does the relation in which I stand to you, said Irakht, entitle me to no better treatment than this? The man who is praised for his understanding, is he who, when a misfortune happens to him, does not abandon himself to his own resources, but has the courage to listen to those who are able to give him good advice; and he expects to be relieved from his embarrassment by prudent contrivance and judicious counsel, as a great criminal rests his hopes of pardon on the voice of mercy which pleads in his favour: do not therefore yield yourself up to weeping and sadness, which only display their effects in an emaciated body, and in the satisfaction which they cause to the insulting enemy. Cease, replied the king, to be importunate with your questions on so disagreeable a subject, which is connected with my death and yours, as well as with that of many persons in my kingdom, who are the objects of my warmest affection, for the Brahmins have declared this sacrifice of you and them to be indispensably necessary; and inseparably attached as my happiness is to your existence, can I hear unconcerned, that the tie must be broken which so closely unites us? Irakht having heard this, grew very impatient, but her good sense prevented her from betraying herself to the king; to whom she said, Be calm, O king, and composed; it is fit that I should give my life to save yours, for you have other women at your court who will console you by the delight and satisfaction which you will experience in their society for the loss of me; but one thing I beg of you, which my love and attachment to you authorize me to demand, and bid me earnestly recommend. And what is it? says the king. It is, said Irakht, that for the present you would place no confidence in the Brahmins, nor have any communication with them, till you have had time to consult the persons, on whose opinions you can rely; for death is a weighty matter, and you will never be able to restore to life the persons whom you have caused to be killed. You should not throw away a pearl, says the fable, though possibly of no value, till you have shown it to a competent judge. Now you, O king, do not know your enemies, for I am persuaded that the Brahmins are exasperated against you on account of the twelve thousand of them, whom you caused to be put to death yesterday; for do not deceive yourself with the notion, that these with whom you have at present to do are well disposed towards you, because they were not of the number of those who perished, and that you run no danger in acquainting them with the visions which you have seen; I am persuaded, that the language they have held has been dictated by the hatred which they bear you, and they flatter themselves, that they shall be able to effect the secret purposes which they have in view, which depends upon the facility, with which they may be able to accomplish your destruction, together with that of your friends and ministers; if therefore you attend to their instructions, and put to death the persons whom they have named to you, I foretell your own ruin, and that the kingdom will return under their authority as it was before. Go therefore, I beseech you, to the wise Kibarioun, he is clever and intelligent, and acquaint him with what you have seen in your visions, and demand of him their meaning and interpretation.

Then the king got the better of his low spirits, and ordered his horse to be saddled, and mounted it, and rode to the wise Kibarioun; and when he came to him, he dismounted from his horse, and saluted him, and stood with his head bent towards the ground: and the wise man said to him, What is the matter, O king, for I am distressed at seeing you so changed in your looks? The king. I have seen in my sleep eight visions, which I have related to the Brahmins, and I am afraid, from the manner in which they have interpreted them, that some great event is at hand, which threatens the prosperity of my kingdom. Kibarioun. Do you prefer giving an account yourself of your visions, or that I should relate to you the whole of what you have seen? The king. In your mouth the relation will be more surprising. Kibarioun. Cease, O king, to be alarmed and distressed. The two red fish, which you saw standing upon their tails, signify that a messenger will come to you from the king of Hymoun, and present to you two boxes set round with pearls and sapphires, worth four thousand weight of gold. The two geese which you saw flying from behind you, and settling upon your hand, signify, that the king of Balk will send you two horses, whose equals are not to be found on earth. The serpent, which you saw creeping near your left foot, signifies, that a man from Senjin will present you with an incomparable sword of the purest steel. The blood with which your body appeared to be stained signifies, that the king of Kasroun will send you a magnificent purple robe, which possesses the property of shining in the dark. The vision in which you appeared to be washing yourself with water signifies, that a person will arrive from the king of Rehzin, with a present for you of cotton dresses, such as kings are in the habit of wearing. The vision in which you were standing on a high mountain signifies, that the king of Kidour will send you a white elephant, whose speed no horse can equal. The vision which showed you something like fire upon your head signifies, that the king of Arzen will send you a crown of gold set round with pearls and sapphires. And the vision, in which you saw a bird, which seemed to strike your head with its beak, I cannot interpret now, though it does not threaten you with any misfortune, nor contain any cause of alarm; but it portends a little displeasure against one whom you love. Now these are the interpretations of your visions, O king; and the messengers who will be the bearers of the presents will arrive at the expiration of seven days, and offer them to you.

Then the king took leave of Kibarioun, and returned to his palace. And at the expiration of seven days it was announced that the messengers were arrived; so the king took his seat upon his throne, and summoned the nobles to his audience, and the gifts were presented to him as Kibarioun had foretold. And the joy of the king, and his wonder at the knowledge of Kibarioun, were very great; and he said, It was my ill fortune which prevailed, when I related my visions to the Brahmins, and placed myself in their power; and if heaven had not shown me mercy, I should not only have perished myself, but should also have been persuaded to hate delivered up many others to destruction. I see therefore how necessary it is to listen to the counsel of friends who possess understanding. Irakht advised what was best, and I adopted her recommendation, which has been crowned with complete success; therefore the presents shall be placed at her disposal, that she may choose whatever she pleases of them. So take the crown and the robes, Iladh, and follow me with them to the apartments of the women. Then the king sent for Irakht and Hourkanat, the two most favoured of his wives, and ordered Iladh to give into the hands of Irakht the crown and robes, that she might take her choice; and she chose the crown, and Hourkanat chose one of the richest and most beautiful robes.

Now it was the practice of the king to pass alternately one evening with Irakht and one with Hourkanat; and it was customary for the wife, with whom he was to pass the evening, to prepare for him a dish of sweet rice, of which he usually ate. And on the evening that the king was with Irakht, she presented the dish of rice which she had prepared for him, and she wore the crown upon her head; and Hourkanat hearing this was jealous of Irakht, so she put on her robe, and went to the king, and her dress was as resplendent as the brightness of the sun; and the king was astonished at what he saw, and turning to Irakht, said to her, You acted foolishly in choosing the crown, and leaving the robe, which has nothing to equal it amongst all my treasures. Irakht was offended at the manner in which the king had blamed her choice, and at the indirect praise which he had bestowed upon Hourkanat; and her jealousy and rage were so violent, that she struck the king on the head with the dish which was in her hand, and the rice ran down upon his face; upon which the king suddenly rose from his seat, and called for Iladh, and said to him, Do you see what this silly woman has done in contempt of my sovereign authority? lead her away instantly, and have her put to death without mercy. Then Iladh quitted the presence of the king, and said to himself, I will not put her to death, that I may leave time for his anger to pass away, for she is the most sensible and well-behaved of all the women, and I know no one who is like her; and she is not only indispensably necessary to the king, but amongst a number of good actions which she has performed, she has lately been the means of his escaping from death, so that she has become the person on whom the hopes of the country rest; and if I immediately carry into execution the orders of the king, I run the risk of being called hereafter to an account for having deprived Irakht by my hurry and precipitation of all chance of pardon: I will therefore wait some time, that I may have other proofs of what was the real intention of the king; and if I see that he is sorry for what he has done, I will present her alive to him, and shall not only enjoy the credit and satisfaction of having saved her, but I shall spare the king many a pang of remorse, and be in favour and authority with the people: on the other hand, if I discover no symptoms of repentance for what he has done, and have good reason to believe that he is satisfied with his decision, in that case her death will be inevitable. Then he led her away, and gave her in charge to a trusty servant, with orders to guard her very closely, that he might have leisure to observe what turn the business would take. After this he stained his sword with blood, and went to the king with the countenance of a person who was in sorrow and affliction, and said, O king, I have executed the orders which you gave me concerning Irakht. Then it was not long before the resentment which the king had felt against Irakht began to cool; and when he recollected all her good qualities, and the beauty of her person, his grief exceeded all-bounds, and he sought in vain to console himself for her loss; but he was ashamed to ask Iladh if it was really true that he had executed his orders, though he indulged a hope, from what he knew of his understanding, that it would prove not to be the case. It was not difficult for Iladh to guess what was passing in the mind of the king; he said to him therefore, O king, moderate your grief, for sorrow and distress wear out and consume the body; and learn to endure patiently what you have no longer any power to alter; and if the king pleases, I will relate to him a story, which may serve to tranquillize his spirits. O tell it me, I beseech you, said the king.

There were once two doves, continued Iladh, a cock, and a hen, who filled their nest with a quantity of wheat and barley. Then the cock bird said to the hen, As long as we can find any thing in the fields to eat, we will leave what we have here untouched; so when winter comes, and the fields no longer afford us any food, we can eat the corn in our nest. The hen bird was pleased with this proposal, and agreed to it. Now it happened, that the grain was wet at the time that it was placed in the nest. After this the cock went away, and was absent a long time, and summer came, and the corn dried up, and shrunk very considerably; and when he returned, and found that the corn had apparently diminished in quantity, he said to the hen, Did we not agree that we would not eat any of the corn for the present; why therefore have you done so? upon which she affirmed with an oath that she had not touched it; but he did not believe it, and beat her to death. Then when the winter had set in, and the rains had fallen, the grain became moistened, and swelled again, and the nest appeared as full as before: and the cock bird remarking this repented of what he had done, and lay down by the side of his dead partner, crying out, Of what use is the corn to me now, for you are not able to share my food? I now see that I have acted unjustly towards you: then he refused all nourishment, and expired at her side. The sensible man therefore will never be quick in punishing, lest he should have to repent of his conduct, like the male dove.

I have also heard tell of a man, that as he was going up a mountain with a bundle of lentils upon his head, he put down his load, and stopped to rest; and a monkey came down from a tree, and stole as many of the lentils as one of his paws would hold, and climbed up into the tree again; but one of the grains having fallen, he returned to look for it, and did not find it, and all the rest lay scattered upon the ground. And you, O king, have sixteen thousand wives, and in the midst of the pleasure and amusement which they afford you, you are sighing for one who is no longer at your command. When the king heard this, he was afraid that Irakht was really dead. O Iladh, you have not hesitated for a moment to obey my commands, though it was but a word that I spoke to you. The word of God alone is unchangeable, answered Iladh, whose decrees are immutable and fixed. The king. I have injured myself, and am plunged into grief by the death of Irakht. Iladh. Affliction is the lot of two descriptions of persons; of those who commit evil every day, and of those who never do good. Their joy and happiness in this world are trifling, and their repentance, when they have the prospect of retribution in view, is long and laborious. The king. Were Irakht only alive, my sorrow would then have an end. Iladh. Sorrow has no power over the man who is every day exercised in good works, nor over him who never does evil. The king. I shall never again see Irakht! Iladh. Two descriptions of persons may be said not to see; the blind man, and he who is without understanding; for as the blind man does not behold the firmament of heaven and the stars, nor what is near nor far off, in the same manner he who is deprived of understanding can neither distinguish what is praiseworthy from what is dishonourable, nor the good man from the bad. The king. If I could but see Irakht again, my joy would be complete. Iladh. Those who have most reason to rejoice, are persons possessed of discernment and knowledge, the former of whom survey the things of the world with all the changes and chances to which they are exposed, and the latter discover the qualities of virtue and wickedness, and regulating their conduct with a view to the next life, continue in the path in which they can walk without danger. The king. I must leave you, Iladh, and take precautions, and put myself upon my guard. Iladh, Two classes of men are proper objects of aversion; those who deny the distinction between virtue and vice, dispute the certainty of rewards and punishments, and contest the force of obligations they have contracted; and those who never turn away their eyes from what it is forbidden to look on, nor their ears from listening to what is evil, who neither check their passion for adulterous connections, nor controul the heart in its inordinate and vicious propensities. The king. I stretch out my arms towards Irakht, and my hand returns empty into my own bosom. Iladh. Three things may be pronounced to be empty; a river without water, a country without a king, and a woman without a husband. The king. O Iladh, you are never at a loss for an answer. Iladh. There are three persons who may be said to receive this talent as it were by inspiration; the king who gives abundantly from his treasures, the woman who falls into the hands of a man of fortune whom she loves, and the knowing man who makes his arrangements with a view to what is good. He then told the king, when he saw that his distress was taking a serious turn, that Irakht was alive; and the joy of the king was excessive when he heard it, and he said, Iladh, the knowledge which I have acquired of your fidelity in council, and of the sincerity which accompanies every word that you utter, will not allow me to be angry: my confidence in your wisdom gave me reason to hope that you would not put Irakht to death; for though she was guilty of great imprudence, and added to her crime by the language which she held, cannot attribute it to any ill-will which she bore me, nor to any desire on her part to injure me, but to her jealousy, the effects of which I ought to have pardoned and forgotten; but you, O Iladh, wished to try me, and therefore left me so long in doubt and suspense; however the favour which you have conferred upon me is not the less on that account, and calls for my best thanks; so go immediately and bring Irakht to me.

Then Iladh went away from the king, and came to Irakht, and begged her to dress herself; which she did, and he accompanied her to the king, and when she came into his presence, she bowed her head, and placing herself before him said, Heaven be praised for its mercies, and the king for the favour which he has shown me!

1 have been guilty of a great fault, which rendered me unworthy to live, but has furnished the king with an occasion for the noble exercise of his mildness, generosity, and clemency towards me; and praised be Iladh, who, acquainted with the merciful, kind, and compassionate disposition of the king, has saved me from destruction by his judicious delay. Then the king said to Iladh, Your authority with me and with Irakht and with my people is unbounded, for you have saved the life of her who was doomed to perish, and have restored her to me again. You have not belied the confidence which I have always had in your advice, and in the prudence of your administration; and as a proof of the honourable distinction of which I think you deserving, I invest you with unlimited authority in my kingdom, to do what you think best, and to act in every instance according to your own discretion and judgment. Iladh replied, May heaven prolong the reign, and increase the happiness of the king! The praise which you bestow upon me is more than I deserve, for I have only discharged the duties which as your servant I was bound to perform, and I was anxious that the king should not use too much precipitation in a matter of which he might afterwards repent, and remember only with regret; especially where the interest of this faithful woman was at stake, who was so deserving of pity, and has no equal upon earth. True. O Iladh! answered the king; and from henceforth I will neither engage in any trifling or important measure, much less one like that from the difficulties of which I have so narrowly escaped, without previously calling to my aid the advice, and discernment, and reflection of my friends. Then the king gave Iladh very handsome presents, and the Brahmins, whom he was authorized to punish as be pleased, atoned by their death for the conspiracy which they had formed against him. And the king and the nobles of the kingdom rejoiced, and offered up their thanksgivings to heaven, and commended Kibarioun for the extent of his knowledge and the superiority of his wisdom, which had been the means of saving the king and his faithful wife and his vizirs.

The Lioness and the Horseman.

Dabschelim commanded Bidpaï to relate the fable of the man, who is restrained from injuring another by the recollection of what he has suffered himself, and who, profiting by a dearly bought lesson of experience, corrects his propensity towards hatred and violence.

The persons, says the philosopher, who take delight in actions which are the source of pain and injury to others, may be ranked as men, whom ignorance and folly have so far led astray, that they are either incapable of discerning the relations and mutual dependence of events in this world and the next, or have no dear notion of the heavy responsibility which their senseless conduct will infallibly draw after it; and if in some instances they escape by a premature death a part of the temporal punishment which they have merited, they only pass from the chastisement which has been suspended in this life, to the inexpressible and undefinable torments which await them beyond the grave; however the silly man is often admonished, by the injury which he himself has sustained, to be cautious in inflicting upon another a wound of which he knows the effects to be painful, and this self-command turns to his profit and advantage: and if the king pleases, I will tell him the fable of the lioness, the horseman, and the jackal, in which this maxim is inculcated. Dabschelim expressed a wish to hear it, and the philosopher continued thus.

There was a lioness in a wood, who had two whelps, and she went out one day to search for game, and left them in their den; and a horseman passing by discovered them, and shot at them, and killed them, and tore off their skins, and placed them upon his back, and went home. And when the lioness returned, and saw what had happened to her whelps, she rolled on the earth, and in an agony of despair poured forth the most bitter lamentations; and her roaring attracted the notice of a jackal, who was in the neighbourhood, who came and asked her what she was about, and what had happened to her. A horseman, she answered, has killed my two whelps, and torn off their skins, and carried them away. The jackal replied, Do not be unreasonable in judging of your own case; for the horseman has only done to you what you have often done to others, and you have been guilty of similar injustice towards many a one, who was as fond of its relation as you of your whelps; therefore learn to support with patience the violence of others, as they have been obliged to submit to yours; for it is said, our own conduct towards others is the measure of their behaviour towards us, for every action is followed by reward or punishment, corresponding to its merit or demerit, as the produce of the harvest is in proportion to the quantity of seed which was sown in the ground. The lioness. I understand what you mean. The jackal. How old are you? Lioness. A hundred years old. The jackal. What has been your food during this period? Lioness. The flesh of beasts. Jackal. Who procured it for you? The lioness. I used to go hunting, and when I caught a beast, I ate it. The jackal. And the beasts which you devoured, had they fathers and mothers? Lioness. Without doubt. Jackal. But I have never heard these parents complain as you are now doing: you must therefore attribute what has taken place to your own want of reflection and inattention to the consequences of your own violent conduct, of which you are now reaping the sad fruits. Then the lioness, after she had beard the words of the Jackal, was convinced of the justice of all that he had said, and that her life had been one continued practice of cruelty and oppression; she therefore determined to leave off eating flesh, and to live upon fruits, and to enter upon a course of great austerity. Now a wood-pigeon, who inhabited the same wood, and lived upon fruit, having observed this, said to the lioness, I thought the trees had been without fruit this year, owing to the little rain which has fallen; but when I saw, that you, who are by nature an eater of flesh, had forsaken your accustomed food, which heaven has destined for you, in order to live on what has been provided for others, and rob them of their support and sustenance, I then knew that the trees had been as productive in this as in former years; for all this then, woe to the trees, and to the fruit, and to whoever has the temerity to seek his own destruction in the forbidden food with which they supply him! The lioness, being alarmed at what the wood-pigeon said, did not persist in eating the fruits of the trees, but made up her mind to live upon grass, and seek relief in devotion for the privations to which she was exposed; and my object in relating this fable, added Bidpaï in conclusion, was to show, that the ignorant man is often restrained by his own painful experience from injuring another, as the lioness was induced, by what had happened to her whelps, to leave off eating flesh, and abandoned as speedily the food which the trees afforded her in consequence of the speech of the wood-pigeon. Man has therefore occasion for discernment and reflection, that he may avoid doing to others what under similar circumstances would be disagreeable to himself; for this is justice which heaven commands, and men approve.

The Monk and his Guest.

Relate to me, said king Dabschelim to Bidpaï, the fable of the man who quits a condition of life which suits him, and to which he is accustomed, for the sake of embracing another, and is astonished and perplexed at the ill success which awaits his choice.

There was in the land of Kark, said the philosopher, a monk, who was very devout and zealous in the discharge of his religious duties. One day a visitor arrived, and the monk ordered some dates to be set before him, that he might taste a fruit with which he was not acquainted. As they were eating together, the guest observed, that they were very sweet and good, and that there were none in his own country, which in other respects abounded with fruit of all kinds. But, continued he, I have never longed for dates, with which I can very readily dispense, considering how difficult of digestion they are, and that they are unwholesome for the stomach. The monk replied, You are very fortunate in being contented with what you have; for there are inconveniences attending all wishes that cannot be satisfied. And this observation the monk made in Hebrew, and his guest found the language so beautiful, that he desired to learn it, and turned his thoughts seriously to it. Upon which the monk said to him, You deserve to experience what happened to the crow as a punishment for your wishing to quit your own language to learn Hebrew; and his guest expressing a wish to hear the story, There was a crow, he continued, which saw a partridge moving and strutting about, and was so pleased with his manner of walking, that he desired to imitate him, and took great pains without being able to accomplish his purpose; till at last, despairing of success, he was anxious to return to the manner of walking which was natural to him; instead of which, he was so puzzled by the little that he had copied from the partridge, and by his attempts to recover his former steps, that in the motion of his feet he became the most graceless of all the birds. And this story applies directly to your case; for you would quit your own tongue, and endeavour to learn Hebrew, which is by no means calculated for you, and in which you will never make any proficiency; and when you return to your friends, you will be remarkable for your bad pronunciation, and for the inaccuracy with which you speak your own language; and he is justly accounted a fool, who throws away his time and labour on an occupation, in which having received no instruction from his parents, he ought therefore to conclude that it is not suited to his talents.

The Traveller and the Goldsmith.

Relate to me, said king Dabschelim to Bidpaï, the fable of the man who, bestows his favours on unworthy objects, and yet hopes to meet with a good return.

It is right, says the philosopher, that kings as well as others should select, as objects of their bounty and kindness, persons in whom they may hope to meet with gratitude, sincerity, and moderate pretensions; and not exhaust their generosity on relations and friends, who have often no better claims than what the peculiarity of their situation gives them. It is then that the distinctions which a king confers become a title of honour to the receiver, when the noble as well as more humble pretender to royal favour is indebted for the notice of his sovereign to the opinion which is entertained of his sensibility to kindness, and to the proof which he has given, that he is incapable of falsehood and ingratitude; and the conduct of a king in submitting the pretensions of those who look up to him for promotion and reward to this severe trial, resembles the practice of the prudent physician, who in his treatment of a patient is not satisfied with the bare symptoms which his looks betray, but feels his pulse, and prescribes the medicine which he is to take according to the knowledge which he has in this manner acquired of his complaint. And the sensible man, if he finds amongst persons of low extraction any possessed of integrity, and a feeling alive to gratitude; or if he discovers even amongst irrational animals any whom instinct has endued with a sensibility to good treatment, and a power to discriminate their benefactor; he will endeavour by affability and kindness to win them to his interest, against the day when he may have occasion for their services: and thus we sometimes see, that a man, whose good sense is indisputable, is obliged, from distrust of his fellow-creatures, to use precautions against those with whom he associates, whilst he is not afraid to wrap up the weasel in his cloak, and takes a bird and places it on his hand; for it is unwise to despise either man or beast, small or great, without having examined their utility, which is the proper rule for the conduct to be observed towards them: and this is a maxim which has often been in the mouths of wise men of old, and is contained in the following fable.

A number of persons dug a pit, and there fell into it a goldsmith, a serpent, a monkey, and a tiger; and a traveller, who was passing by, stood over the pit, and saw the man and his companions, and said to himself, I cannot perform any deed that will plead more strongly in my favour in the life to come, than by saving this man from the enemies by whom he is surrounded; so he took a rope, and let it down into the pit; and the monkey, owing to his dexterity and nimbleness, was the first to cling to it, and climb up; he then let it down a second time, and the serpent twisted himself round it, and came out; then a third time, and the tiger took hold of it, and he drew him up. Then the three beasts thanked him for his having assisted them to escape, but begged him not to release the goldsmith, adding, that men in general, and especially the person in question, were incapable of gratitude. And the monkey said to him, I live on a mountain near a city called Nawadarkht: the tiger said, I live in a wood close by this city: and the serpent, I dwell in the walls of the city, and if you pass in our neighbourhood at any time, and have occasion for our services, call to us, and we will come and reward you for the kindness which you have shown us. But the traveller paid no attention to what they had told him of the ingratitude of the man, but let down the rope again, and brought out the goldsmith, who thanked him for what he had done, and said, If ever you come to Nawadarkht, enquire for my house; I am a goldsmith, and shall be happy to be of any use to you I can for the service you have rendered me. Then the goldsmith returned to the city, and the traveller continued his journey.

Some time after the traveller had occasion to go to Nawadarkht, and as he was walking along, the monkey met him, and saluted him, and kissed his feet, and made apologies for the inability of monkeys to do much for a friend, but begged him to sit down, and wait till he returned; then the monkey went away, and very soon came back, bringing some choice fruit, which he placed before the traveller, who having eaten as much as he chose, continued his journey: and as he approached the gate of the city, the tiger advanced towards him, and placing himself in an humble posture before him, said, Wait a moment, and I will very soon come back to you; then the tiger went away, and entered the city by one of the walls, and killed the king’s daughter, and tore off her trinkets, and brought them to the traveller, without informing him by what means he had procured them. Then the traveller said to himself, These beasts have rewarded me very handsomely, and I am now curious to see what the goldsmith will do; if he is poor, and has no means of showing his gratitude, he may at least sell these trinkets for their full value, with which of course he is acquainted, and divide with me the sum of money which he obtains for them. So he went to the goldsmith, who, as soon as he saw him, saluted him, and made him enter his house; and observing the trinkets, he immediately recognised them to be those which he had made for the daughter of the king. He then told the traveller that he had no provisions in the house good enough for him, but if he would wait a little while, he would fetch him something to eat: then he went out, and said to himself, This is an opportunity not to be lost; I will go to the king, and inform him of the discovery I have made, and he will no doubt acknowledge and reward my zeal. Then he went to the antichamber of the king, and announced himself by a message to the following purport: The person who has killed your majesty’s daughter and stolen her trinkets, is at this moment in my house. Then the king desired the traveller, to be brought before him, and as soon as he saw the jewels in his possession, he immediately ordered him to be put to the torture, and after that to be led through the city, and in the end put to death. Whilst the punishment was being executed, the traveller began to weep, and cry out with a loud voice, If I had attended to the hints which the monkey, the serpent, and the tiger gave me of the ingratitude of this man, I should have escaped this misfortune; and as he repeated the same words several times, the serpent heard what he said, and came out from her hole, and knew her benefactor again, and was so distressed at the situation in which she found him, that she immediately thought of some contrivance to release him, and went and stung the son of the king; and the king called together the wise men of his kingdom, who endeavoured to charm the bite by their incantations and magical arts/ but all to no purpose.

Now the serpent had a sister, who was one of the Genii; so she went to her, and informed her of the kindness she had experienced from the traveller, and of the misfortune into which he was fallen; and the sister felt pity for him, and went to the king’s son, and rendering herself invisible told him, that he would not get well, unless the man who had been punished so undeservedly pronounced an incantation over him. Then the serpent went to the traveller in prison, and reproached him for not having attended to her advice concerning the goldsmith; and she gave him leaves, which she told him served as an antidote to her poison, and desired him, when he was called to charm the bite which the kings son had received, to make the young prince drink a decoction of the leaves, which would cure him; and if the king enquired into his circumstances, he must give a true account of himself, and by the favour of heaven he would by these means escape. Then the king’s son told his father, that he had heard the voice of some one speaking, who said to him, that he would not get well, unless the man, who had been unjustly imprisoned, charmed the sting of the serpent; upon which the king ordered the traveller to be sent for, and desired him to charm his son. The traveller replied, Incantations will be of no use to him, but if he drinks a decoction of these leaves, he will with the assistance of heaven be cured. Then he made him drink, and the child got well, to the great joy and satisfaction of his father; and the king desired the traveller to give some account of himself, and the latter related his history. Then the king thanked him, and made him a handsome present, and commanded that the goldsmith should be put to death in his stead; and the sentence was carried into execution, as a just punishment for the false evidence which he had given, and the bad return he had made to a good action. So in the ingratitude of the goldsmith towards the traveller, continued Bidpaï, and the gratitude on the other hand of the beasts towards their benefactor, by the means of one of whom he escaped from the danger which threatened him, is contained a salutary lesson for those who will listen to instruction, and matter of reflection for the considerate man, who will learn from this example to select, from motives of prudence as well as interest, those only as objects of his generosity and favour, who are possessed of integrity and honourable sentiments, in whatever rank or condition of life he may find them.

The King’s Son and his Companions.

King Dabschelim said to Bidpaï, I have listened attentively to what you have just related; and now if a man, as has been said, cannot arrive at any solid good without the exercise of his understanding and judgment, and using caution in all he does, what is the reason that the inconsiderate man often attains to eminence and prospers in the world, whilst those who possess the former qualities in a great degree often meet with vexation and losses? The philosopher replied:

Intelligence, good sense, and caution are as necessary to man in his conduct through life, as the eye to vision, or the ear to the sense of hearing; though fate and destiny sometimes prevail over all the calculations of human prudence. The history of the king’s son and his companions affords an example of this. And what was this? said the king.

Four persons, continued the philosopher met once in a road; the first was the son of a king, the second the son of a merchant, the third, who was very handsome, was the son of a nobleman, and the fourth the son of a husbandman. They were all in great trouble and distress in a place at a distance from all relief, and had nothing, except the clothes which were upon them; and as they were travelling along, and thinking what they should do, the prevailing notion in the mind of each of them evinced itself in the following declarations. The son of the king said, All things in the world are determined by destiny; and as the decrees of fate are always infallibly accomplished, patience and a due submission to the will of Providence is the safest conduct for man: the son of the merchant said, Understanding is the most excellent of all things: the son of the nobleman, that beauty was superior to any thing that had been mentioned: and the son of the husbandman gave the preference to industry over all the rest. By this time they had reached a city called Matroun, and sat down to consult on the course to be pursued: at length the other three said to the husbandman, Go and procure by means of your industry something for us to eat to-day: so he went into the city and enquired for work, the wages of which would be sufficient to procure food for four persons; and he was told, that nothing fetched so high a price in the city as wood for fuel, which was not to be had nearer than the distance of a parasang; so he went out, and cut a bundle of sticks, and brought it to the city, and sold it for a piece of silver, and bought food; and wrote on the gate of the city, The price of one day’s hard labour is a piece of silver; and he returned to his companions with the provisions, and they all made a hearty meal. The next day it was agreed to be his turn, who said, there was nothing more valuable than beauty, to try his good fortune. So the son of the nobleman set out to go to the city, and on the way he said to himself, I am unable to work, therefore what will be the use of my entering into the city? but as he was ashamed to return to his companions without food, he thought of separating from them altogether, and for this purpose took another direction; and as he was lying down with his back against a tree, he became drowsy, and fell asleep, and the wife of one of the principal men of the city passing by at the time, observed him, and was so struck with his beauty, that she desired her maid to go and conduct him to her; and the girl went, and begged him to follow her to her mistress, with whom he passed the day in a very agreeable manner, and in the evening she presented him with five hundred pieces of silver. Then he went and wrote upon the gate of the city, The value of beauty for one day is estimated at five hundred pieces of silver; and he returned with the money to his companions.

On the third morning the son of the merchant was desired to go, and make use of his understanding and knowledge in business, to procure food for the days consumption. Then he went forth, and he saw a ship laden with goods, lying at anchor close to the shore, and a great many merchants going on board, as if they intended to buy the cargo; and they sat down in a corner of the vessel and consulted together, and said one to the other, We will go home to-day without making any purchase, and when the owners of the ship find that no one offers to buy their merchandise, which however it is necessary for us to have, for the sake of our trade, they will lower their demands, and we shall obtain it at a cheaper rate. Then the son of the merchant hearing this changed the direction he was taking, and came to the owners of the ship, and bought the whole cargo on credit for a hundred pieces of gold, and pretended that he wished to transport the goods to another city; and the merchants hearing this were afraid that they should lose the opportunity of acquiring the cargo; therefore they gave him a premium of a hundred thousand pieces of silver for the bargain he had concluded, and he referred the owners of the vessel to them for the purchase money, and he carried the sum which had been paid him to his companions, after he had written on the gate of the city, One day’s exercise of the understanding has been paid by a hundred thousand pieces of silver.

On the fourth day the kings son was desired to go and try what fate and destiny would do for him. So he took his leave, and came to the gate of the city, and sat down on a seat which he found there; and it happened that the king of the country was just dead, without leaving any successor to the crown; and as the funeral passed by, he appeared quite unconcerned, whilst all who followed the corpse were mourning the loss of their sovereign; upon which they reproached him with his indifference; and the keeper of the gate said to him in a threatening tone, Who art thou, wretch, that darest to sit at the gate of the city, without sharing our grief at the death of the king? and he drove him away from the gate. But as soon as the funeral had passed, he came back to his former place; and when the procession returned from the burial, the doorkeeper remarked him again, and said, Did I not forbid thy sitting here? then he had him arrested, and thrown into prison. The next day the people of the city assembled, in order to deliberate on the choice of a king; and each waited with impatience for the proposition of his neighbour; however, they came to no determination. Then the keeper of the gate addressed the assembly, I saw yesterday, said he, a young man sitting at the gate, who in the midst of the general sorrow and mourning appeared totally unconcerned; I spoke to him, and as he gave me no answer, I sent him away from the gate; on my return from the funeral I found him sitting again in the same place; I therefore had him put into prison, thinking he might be a spy. Then the nobles of the city sent to the prison, and had the young man brought before them; and they enquired into his history, and what had made him come to their city. I am the son, said he, of the king of Fawiran: at the death of my father, my brother deprived me of the crown; and in order to save my life, I fled from the country, which reduced me to the extremity in which you see me. And when the young man had finished his story, one who was present, and who had been accidentally in the country of his father, recollected to have seen him, and spoke in high terms of him; upon which the nobles chose him for their king, and appeared highly satisfied with his election.

Now it was a custom with the people, when a king was chosen, to conduct him round the city upon a white elephant, and the ceremony took place as usual on this occasion; and as the newly-elected sovereign rode by the gate, he observed the writing which was upon it; then he commanded to be written, that industry, and beauty, and understanding, and whatever good or evil happens to man in the world, takes place by the decree and determination of Providence, as exemplified, he said, in the honour and favour which heaven this day had bestowed upon him. He then went to his audience chamber, and took his seat upon his throne, and sent to his former companions to come to him. The man of understanding he made one of his ministers; he established the industrious son of the husbandman amongst the cultivators of the soil; and having ordered a large sum of money to be given to the handsome man, he sent him away, that he might not corrupt the morals of the ladies of his court. After this he assembled the men of the country, who were most distinguished for their wisdom and understanding, and said to them, My companions are certainly convinced, that they are indebted for all the good which has fallen to their lot to the bounty of heaven; and I wish you all to acknowledge the decree of fate in the favour which I have received at the hands of Providence, and not to mistake for an effect either of beauty, or understanding, or industry, what was wholly independent of human means. I could not even expect, when my brother drove me away from my kingdom, to be able to procure the necessaries of life, much less that I should reach the high rank to which I have now been raised. I could not indulge this hope, knowing that this country possesses persons who excel me in all the qualities, both of mind and body; but the will of heaven, which had determined my rise to honour, reduced me to the fate of privation in which I have lived, for the accomplishment of its purpose.

In the assembly, before whom the king spoke, was an elderly man, who stood up, and addressed him thus: Understanding and wisdom have graced the words which you have uttered, and justified the good opinion which we have formed of you: we have a full conviction of your sincerity in all that you have spoken, and think you deserving of the power and honour to which heaven has raised you, on account of the knowledge and judgment which you have received from above. The happiest man in this world and the next is he on whom Providence has bestowed understanding and wisdom; and we must regard it as a favour of heaven, that it has procured for us, by the death of our king, a sovereign who will be the glory and pride of the country.

Then another aged man, who had been a traveller, stood up, and returned thanks to heaven, and pronounced an eulogium on the king, and said, In my younger days, before I began to travel, I was in the service of a nobleman, and when I had scraped together a little property, I left my master, who at my departure gave me two pieces of gold, one of which I destined for charitable purposes, and the other piece I intended to keep for myself; and going one day to the market, I saw a fowler who bad two doves, and I bargained with him for them, but he refused to sell them for less than two pieces of gold, though I did all I could to make him part with them for one; but he persisted in his refusal: then I said to myself, I will buy one of them, and leave the other; but recollecting, that probably they were male and female, I had compassion upon them, and would not separate them; so trusting in heaven, I bought them both for the two pieces of gold, but I was afraid, if I let them loose in the inhabited part of the country, that they would be exposed to a similar danger to that from which I had just released them. So I carried them to a spot abounding with food, at a distance from the habitations of men, and let them go; and they flew away, and settled upon a fruit-tree: and when they were on the top of it, they thanked me; and I heard one of them say to the other, This man has been our deliverer and benefactor, and we ought to reward him for what he has done; now at the root of this tree is a vessel filled with gold; ought we not therefore to direct him to it, that he may take it? I said to them, How can you pretend to direct me to an invisible treasure, and you were not able to see the net in which you were caught? They answered me, Fate, which can rob the eye of vision, prevented our seeing the net, but has not rendered this treasure invisible. Then I dug, and took out the vessel, and found it filled with gold; and I wished them good luck, and said in parting, Heaven be praised for the accomplishment of its purpose in the knowledge it imparted to you; now fly about in the air, and inform me of what is concealed under the earth. They replied, O man of understanding, do you not know that fate prevails over every thing, and that its decrees are inevitable? This is the report which I have felt it to be my duty to make to the king, and if my sovereign orders me, I will bring the money, and pay it into his treasury. It belongs to you, answered the king, and there is a large property for you. The conversation of the philosopher and the king being here ended, the king was silent. Then the philosopher addressing him said, May you live, O king, a thousand years, and your authority be extended over the seven climates; may you meet with every earthly blessing, to the satisfaction of yourself and the happiness of your subjects! May Providence and destiny unite together for your preservation; and the immediate protection of heaven, which watches over your words and actions, make the rich treasures of your clemency and knowledge, and the sagacity of your understanding and memory, conspire to perpetuate the reign of virtue and goodness, which have established their seat in your soul!

The End.