 Section 11 of A Year Amongst the Persians by Edward Granville-Brown. Having now spoken of the topography, buildings and institutions of the capital, it behoves me to say something about its social aspects. I begin naturally with the royal family. Of Nassiruddin Shah, the reigning king, I have already said something. His appearance has been rendered so familiar in Europe by his three visits to the West that of it I need hardly speak. He has had a long reign, if not a very glorious one, for he was crowned at Tehran on 20 October 1848, and there seems every likelihood that he will live to celebrate his jubilee. He came to the throne very young, being not much more than seventeen or eighteen years of age. Before that time he had resided at Tabriz as governor of the province of Azerbaijan, an office always conferred by Qajar sovereigns on the crown prince. The Qajars, as I have already said, are of Turkish origin, and the language of Azerbaijan is also a dialect of Turkish. Whence it came about that Nassiruddin Shah, on his accession, could scarcely express himself at all in Persian, a fact to which Dr. Polak, about that time he is called physician, bears testimony. And now, though he habitually speaks and writes Persian, and has even composed and published some poems in that language, he prefers, I believe, to make use of Turkish in conversation with such of his intimates as understand it. I wish to insist on the fact that the reigning dynasty of the Qajars are essentially of Turkish race, because it is often overlooked and because it is of some political importance. When the Shah was in England, for instance, certain journals were pleased to speak of him as a descendant of Cyrus, which is about as reasonable as if one should describe our own Prince of Wales as a descendant of King Arthur. The whole history of Persia, from the legendary wars between the Keyanian kings and Afrasiyab down to the present day, is the story of a struggle between the Turkish races, whose primitive home is in the region east of the Caspian Sea, and north of Khurasan on the one hand, and the southern Persians of almost pure Aryan race on the other. The distinction is well marked even now, and the old antipathy still exists, finding expressions in verses such as those quoted above at page 77, and in anecdotes illustrative of the Turkish stupidity and dullness of wit, of which I shall have occasion to give one in a subsequent chapter. Ethnologically, therefore, there is a marked distinction between the people of the north and the people of the south, a distinction which may be most readily apprehended by comparing the sullen, moody, dull-witted, fanatical, violent inhabitants of Azerbaijan with the bright, versatile, clever, sceptical, rather timid townsfolk of Kirman. In Pharas also good types of the Aryan Persian are met with, but there is a large admixture of Turkish tribesmen, like the Qashqais, who have migrated and settled there. Indeed, this intermixture has now extended very far, but in general the terms northern and southern may, with reservation, be taken as representing a real and significant difference of type in the inhabitants of Persia. Since the downfall of the Caliphate and the lapse of the Arabian supremacy, the Turkish has generally been the dominant race, for in the physical world it is commonly physical force which wins the day, and dull, dogged courage bears down versatile and subtle wit. Thus it happens that today the Qajars rule over the kinsmen of Cyrus and Shah-Bord, as ruled in earlier days the Raznavids and the Seljuks. But there is no love lost between the two races, as any one will admit who has taken the trouble to find out what the southern peasant thinks of the northern court, or how the Qajars regard the cradle of precious ancient greatness. Of the Shah's character I do not propose to add much to what I have said already, for in the first place I am conscious of a prejudice against him in my mind, arising from the ineffacable remembrance of his horrid cruelties towards the Barbies, and in the second place I enjoyed no unusual facilities for forming a weighty judgment. I have heard him described by a high English official, who had good opportunities of arriving at a just opinion, as a liberal-minded and enlightened monarch, full of maniness, energy and sound sense, who, in a most difficult situation, had displayed much tact and wisdom. It must also be admitted that, apart from the severities practiced against the Barbies, which, with alternate remissions and exacerbations, have continued from the beginning of his reign down to the present time. This rule has been, on the whole, mild and comparatively free from the cruelties which maher nearly every page of Persian history. During the latter part of his reign especially, executions and cruel punishments, formerly of almost daily occurrence, have become very rare, but this is partly to be attributed to the fear of European public opinion, and desire to be thought well of at western courts and in western lands, which exercise so strong an influence over his mind. For most of the more recent Barbie persecutions, the Shah was not directly responsible. It was his eldest son, the Zilus Sultan, who put to death the two martyrs of Isfahan in 1879, and Mirza Ashraf of Abadi in 1888, and it was in his jurisdiction, though during his absence, that the persecutions of Sikhtih and Najaf Abad occurred in the summer of 1889, while the cruel murder of seven innocent Barbies at Yazd in May 1890 lies at the door of Prince Jalalud Daula, son of the Zilus Sultan and grandson of the Shah. The last Barbie put to death actually by the Shah's order was, I think, the young messenger Mirza Abadi, who brought from Acre and delivered into the king's own hands at Tehran the remarkable apology for the Barbie faith addressed to him by Beha Ula. This was in July 1869. In extenuation of the earlier and more wholesale persecutions, it has been urged that the Barbies were in rebellion against the crown, and that the most horrible of them, that of September 1852, was provoked by the attempt made by three Barbies on the Shah's life. But this attempt itself, apart from the fact that, so far as can be ascertained, it was utterly unauthorized on the part of the Barbie leaders, was caused by the desperation to which the Barbies had been driven by a long series of cruelties, especially by the execution of their founder in 1850. Amongst the victims also were several persons who, in as much as they had been in captivity for many months, were manifestly innocent of complicity in the plot, notably the beautiful Kouratul Ain, whose heroic fortitude under the most cruel tortures excited the admiration and wonder of Dr. Paulak, the only European, probably, who witnessed her death. These executions were not merely criminal, but foolish. The barbarity of the persecutors defeated its own ends, and, instead of inspiring terror, gave the martyrs an opportunity of exhibiting a heroic fortitude which has done more than any propaganda, however skillful, could have done to ensure the triumph of the cause for which they died. Often have I heard persons who did not themselves belong to the prescribed sect, tell with admiration how Sulayman Khan, his body pierced with well nigh a score of wounds, in each of which was inserted a lighted candle, went to the place of execution, singing with exultation, Yaktas jami badeva, Yaktas dzulfiyar, Raksijunin mayana yeme dhanam arzust. In one hand the wine-cup, in the other the tresses of the friend. Such a dance do I desire in the midst of the marketplace. The impression produced by such exhibitions of courage and endurance was profound and everlasting. Nate, the faith which inspired the martyrs, was often contagious, as the following incident shows. A certain Yezdi Ruff, noted for his wild and disorderly life, went to see the execution of some Barbies, perhaps to scoff at them. But when he saw, with what calmness and steadfastness, they met torture and death, his feelings underwent so great a revulsion, that he rushed forward crying, Kill me too, I also am a Barbie! And thus he continued to cry, till he too was made a partaker in the doom he had come out only to gaze upon. During my stay in Tehran I saw the Shah several times, but only once sufficiently near, to see his features clearly. This was on the occasion of his visiting the new telegraph office, on his way to the university, where he was to preside over the distribution of prizes. Through the kindness of Major Wells, then superintendent of the Indo-European telegraph in Persia, H. and myself were enabled to stand in the porch of the building, while the Shah entered, surrounded by his ministers. We afterwards followed him to the university and witnessed the distribution of prizes, which was on the most liberal scale, most of the students, so far as I could see, receiving either medals or sums of money, averaging three or four tumans, about one pound. The Shah sat in a room, opening out into the quadrangle where the secretaries of state, Mustalphes, professors and students, were ranged in order. Around him stood the princes of the royal family, including his third son, the Naibut Soudana, and the ministers of state. The only person allowed to sit beside him was his little favourite, Manny Jack, who accompanied him on his last journey to Europe. The Shah's extraordinary fondness for this child, for he did not at the time I saw him, appear to be more than eleven or twelve years old, was as annoying to the Persian aristocracy as it was astonishing to the people of Europe. It galled the spirit of the proud nobles of Persia to watch the daily increasing influence of this little whizzened, sallow-faced Kurdish lad, who was neither nobly born, nor of comely countenance, nor of pleasant manners and amiable disposition, to see honours and favours lavished upon him and his ignoble kinsmen, to be compelled to do him reverence and bespeak his good offices. All this now is a thing of the past. Within the last year or so Ghulam Ali Khan, the Kurd, better known as Manny Jack, which in the Kurdish tongue signifies a sparrow, and some while dignified by the title of Azizus Soudan, the darling of the king, fell from favour and was hurled from the pinnacle of power down to his original obscurity. The cause of his fall was, I believe, that one day, while he was playing with a pistol, the weapon exploded and narrowly missed the char. This was too much, and Manny Jack and his favoured kinsmen were shorn of their titles and honours, and packed off to their humble home in Kurdistan. Perhaps it was after all as well for them, for the darling of the king was far from being the darling of the court. Sooner or later his fall was bound to come, and had it been later it might have been yet more grievous. The Shah has five sons. Two of these, the Salar-ul-Mulk and the Rukh-ul-Mulk, were, at the time of which I write, mere children. They were described as beautiful and attractive boys, but neglected by their father in favour of Manny Jack. The third son is entitled Naibus-Saltana. He resided in Tehran, and to him was entrusted the government of the city and the supreme military command. The two elder sons were born of different mothers, and as the mother of Vali-Acht was a princess, he, and not his elder brother, was chosen as the successor to the throne. That the Zulu Sultan, inwardly chafed at being thus deprived of his birthright, is hardly to be doubted, though he was in the meanwhile compensated for this, in some measure, by being made governor of the greater part of southern Persia, including the three important cities of Shiraz, Yazd and Isfahan, at the last of which he resided in almost regal state. Here he collected together a considerable body of well-drilled troops, who were said to be more efficient and soldierly than any of the regiments in Tehran. Besides these he had acquired a number of guns, and his magazines were well provided with arms and ammunition. In view of these preparations, and the energy and decision of character discernable in this prince, it was thought possible that, in the event of his father's death, he might dispute the crown with his younger and gentler brother, the Vali-Acht, in which case it appeared not improbable that he might prove victorious or at least succeed in maintaining his supremacy over southern Persia. All such speculations, however, were cast to the winds by an utterly unforeseen event which occurred towards the end of February 1888, while I was at Isfahan. In the beginning of that month both the Zilus Sultan and the Vali-Acht had come to Tehran, the former from Isfahan, the latter from Tabriz, to pay a visit to their father. The decoration was to be presented to the former by the English government for the protection and favour, which he had extended to English trade and enterprise, towards which he had ever shown himself well-disposed. Suddenly, without warning, came the news that he had been deprived of all his governments, with the exception of the city of Isfahan, that he and some of his ministers who had accompanied him to the capital were kept to all intents and purposes prisoners within its walls, that his deputy governors at Yazd, Shiraz and other towns were recalled, and that his army was disbanded, his artillery removed to Tehran, and his power effectually shattered. On first hearing from the Shah that of all the fair regions over which he had held sway, Isfahan only was left to him, is reported to have said in the bitterness of his heart, you had better take that from me too, to which the Shah replied, I will do so, and will give it to your son, Prince Jalalud-Dawla, then governor for his father at Shiraz. This threat was however not carried out, and the Zilus Sultan still possesses the former capital as a remnant of his once-wide dominions. Hearing from the Shah and his sons, we must now turn our attention to one or two other members of the royal family. For most amongst these is, or rather was, for he died in 1888, while I was still in Persia, the Shah's aged uncle, Ferhad Mizar Muttamadu-Dawla, with whom, through the kindness of Dr. Torrance of the American missionary establishment, and by means of his interest, with Prince Ihtishamud-Dawla, son of Ferhad Mizar, and since the downfall of the Zilus Sultan, governor of Shiraz and the province of Fars, I obtained the honour of an interview. We found him seated amidst a pile of cushions in his Andarun, or inner apartments, surrounded by well-stopped shelves of books. He received us with that inimitable courtesy, whereby Persians of the highest rank know so well how to set the visitor completely at his ease, and at the same time to impress him with the deepest respect for their nobility. I was greatly struck by his venerable appearance and dignified mean, as well as by the indomitable energy and keen intelligence expressed by the flashing eye and mobile features, which neither old age nor bodily infirmity was able to rob of their animation. He talked much of a book called Nisabh, written by himself to facilitate the acquisition of the English language with which he had some acquaintance to his countrymen. Of this work he subsequently presented me with a copy, which I value highly as a souvenir of its illustrious author. It is arranged on the same plan as the Arabic Nisabh's, so popular in Persia. That is to say, it consists of a sort of rhymed vocabulary, in which the English words represented in the text in Persian characters, and repeated in English characters at the head of the page, are explained successively by the corresponding Persian word. The following lines taken from the commencement of the work, near represented in English characters, were served as a specimen of the whole. In the north of Dagh of the cup of wine, O moon-faced beauty, so that by its fragrance the pallet of the intellect may become perfumed, as with musk, head is sar and nose bini, lip is lab, and eye-like chasm, toothed dindan, foot-pool, and hand-dust and face-rule, gush and gardan, ear and neck, cheek-chih-ray, tongue becomes zaban, recognised naf as navel, and pistana's bosom, call hair mu. I doubt greatly whether such a method of learning a language would command itself to a European student, but with the Persians endowed as they are with a great facility for learning by heart, it is a very favourite one. Prince Fahd Bidrazar professed a great kindness for the English nation, as well as for their language, nor, if the following narrative be true, is this to be wondered at, since his life was once saved by Sir Taylor Thompson, when endangered by the anger of his nephew the Shah. Fleeing from the messengers of the king's wrath, he took refuge in the English embassy, and threw himself on the protection of his friend the ambassador, who promised to give him shelter so long as it should be necessary. Soon the royal pharashis arrived, and demanded his surrender, which demand was unhesitatingly refused. They then threatened to break in by force and seize their prisoner, whereupon Sir Taylor Thompson drew a line across the path, and declared that he would shoot the first man who attempted to cross it. Thereupon they thought it best to retire, and Fahd Bidrazar remained for a while the guest of the British Embassy, during which time Sir Taylor Thompson never suffered him to partake of a dish, without first tasting it himself, for it was feared that, violence having failed, poison might perhaps be employed. Ultimately the Shah's anger subsided, and his uncle was able again to emerge from his place of refuge. Before the close of our audience, Fahd Mirazar asked me how long I intended to stop in Tehran, and whether I proposed to go on leaving it. I replied that my intention was to proceed to Shiraz as soon as the spring set in, since that it was the Darul Ilm, a boat of knowledge, and I thought that I might better pursue my studies there. That replied Fahd Mirazar is quite a mistake. Five hundred years ago Shiraz was the Darul Ilm, but now that has passed, and it can only be called the Darul Fisk, a boat of vice. Fahd Mirazar has little reason to like Shiraz, nor has Shiraz much better reason to like Fahd Mirazar. He was twice governor of that town, under province of Fahd's, of which it is the capital, and was so unpopular during his administration that when he was recalled the populace did not seek to hide their delight, and even pursued him with jeers and derisive remarks. Fahd Mirazar swore that the Shirazese should pay for their temporary triumph right dearly, and he kept his word. After a lapse of time he was again appointed governor of the city that had insulted him, and his rule, never of the gentlest, became sterner than ever. During his four years of office, ending about 1880, he is said to have caused no less than seven hundred hands to be cut off for various offenses. In one case a man came and complained that he had lost an ass, which was subsequently found amongst the animals belonging to a lad in a neighbourhood. The latter was seized and brought before Fahd Mirazar, who as soon as the ass had been identified by the plaintiff, ordered the hand of the defendant to be cut off without further delay, giving no ear to the protestations of the poor boy that the animal had of its own accord entered his herd, and that he had not, till the accusation of theft was preferred against him, been able to discover its owner. Besides these minor punishments many robbers and others suffered death. Not a few were walled up alive in pillars of mortar, there to perish miserably. The remains of these living tombs may still be seen just outside the Derwazei Kassabchani slaughterhouse gate at Shiraz, while another series lines the road as it enters the little town of Abadi, situated near the northern limit of the province of Fahd. On another occasion a certain Sheikh Mazghur, who had revolted in the Garam Seer or hot region bordering on the Persian Gulf, and had struck coins in his own naib, was captured and brought to Shiraz, together with two of his followers, one of whom was his chief executioner. Fahd Mirazar first compelled the Sheikh to eat one of his own coins, and then caused him and his followers to be strangled and suspended from a lofty jibbit as a warning to the disaffected. Notwithstanding his severity, Fahd Mirazar enjoyed a great reputation for piety, and had accomplished the pilgrimage to Mecca. His son, as I have said, was, early in 1888, appointed governor of Shiraz, where the reputation of his father caused his advent to be looked forward to with some apprehension. The only other member of the Persian royal family, whom I met, was one of the brothers of the Shah, entitled Izud-Daulah, who, if less important a personage than Fahd Mirazar, was by no means less courteous. He asked many questions about recent inventions in Europe, manifesting an especial interest, so far as I remember, in patent medicines and dynamite. Having now completed all that I have to say about the reigning dynasty, I will speak shortly of Persian dinner parties at Tehran. As these are seen in a more truly national form in the provinces, where chairs, tables, knives and forks have not yet obtruded themselves to such an extent, as in the semi-Europeanised capital, I shall leave much that I have to say on this subject for subsequent pages. Most of the Persians, with whom I was intimate at Tehran, had adopted European habits to a considerable extent, and during my residence there, I was only on two occasions present at a really national entertainment. The order of procedure is always much the same. The guests arrive about sundown and are ushered into what corresponds to the drawing-room, where they are received by their host and his male relations, for women are, of course, excluded. Halyans, water-pipes and wine or undiluted spirits, the latter being preferred, are offered them, and they continue to smoke and drink intermittently during the whole of the evening. Dishes of ar jeel, pistachio nuts and the like are handed round or placed near the guests, and from time to time a spit of kebabs, pieces of broiled meat, enveloped in a folded sheet of the flat bread called nane sangak, is brought in. These things bring out the flavour of the wine, and serve to stimulate, and at the same time appease, the appetite of the guests, for the actual supper is not served till the time for breaking up the assembly has almost arrived, which is rarely much before midnight, as a raw music is provided for the entertainment of the guests. The musicians are usually three in number, one plays a stringed instrument, the sitar, one a drum, dun bak, consisting of an earthenware framework shaped something like a huge egg-cup, and covered with parchment at one end only. The third sings to the accompaniment of his fellow performers. Sometimes dancing boys are also present, who excite the admiration and applause of the spectators by their elaborate posturing, which is usually more remarkable for acrobatic skill than for grace, at any rate according to our ideas. These, however, are more often seen in charades than at Tehran. Occasionally the singer is a boy, and if his voice be sweet, and his appearance comely, he will be greeted with rapturous applause, at one entertainment to which I had been invited. The guests were so moved by the performance of the boy-singer that they all joined hands and danced round him in a circle, chanting in a kind of monotonous chorus, Barakala, Kuchulu, Barakala, Kuchulu. God bless thee, little one, God bless thee, little one, till sheer exhaustion compelled them to stop. When the host thinks that the entertainment has lasted long enough, he gives the signal for supper, which is served either in the same or in another room. A cloth is laid on the floor, round which are arranged long flat cakes of pebble bread, which do double duty as food and plates. The meats, consisting for the most part of pilaus and chilaos of different sorts, are placed in the centre, together with bowls of sherbet, each of which is supplied with a delicately carved wooden spoon, with deep boat-shaped bowl, whereof the sides slope down to form a sort of keel at the bottom. The guests squat down on their knees and heels round the cloth, the host placing him, who he desires most to honour, on his right side at the upper end of the room, i.e. opposite the door. At the lower end the musicians and minstrels take their places, and all, without further delay, commence an attack on the viands. The consumption of food progresses rapidly with but little conversation, for it is not usual in Persia to linger over meals or to prolong them by talk, which is better conducted while the mouth is not otherwise employed. If the host wishes to pay special honour to a guest, he picks out and places in his mouth some particularly delicate morsel. In about a quarter of an hour from the commencement of the banquet, most of the guests have finished and washed their hands by pouring water over them from a metal ewer into a plate of the same material brought round by the servants for that purpose. They then rinse out their mouths, roll down their sleeves again, partake of a final pipe, and unless they mean to stay for the night, depart home woods, either on foot or on horseback, preceded by a servant bearing a lantern. Such is the usual course of a Persian dinner party, and the midday meal, Nahar, to which guests are sometimes invited, differs from it only in this, that it is shorter and less boisterous. Although I have described the general features of such an entertainment in some detail, I fear that I have failed to convey any idea of the charm which it really possesses. This charm results partly from the lack of constraint and the freedom of the guests, partly from the cordial welcome which a Persian host so well knows how to give, partly from the exhilarating influence of the wine and music, which though so different from that to which we are accustomed, produces in such as a susceptible to its influence an indescribable sense of subdued ecstasy, but more than all from the vigour, variety and brilliancy of the conversation. There is no doubt that satiety produces somnolence and apathy, as is so often seen at English dinner parties, hence the Persians wisely defer the meal till the very end of the evening when sleep is to be sought. During the earlier stages of the entertainment their minds are stimulated by wine, music and mirth, without being dulled by the heaviness resulting from repletion. This no doubt is one reason why the conversation is as a rule so brilliant, but beyond this the quick, versatile, subtle mind of the Persian, stored as it usually is with anecdotes historical, literary and incidental, and freed for the time being from the restraint which custom ordinarily imposes on it, flashes forth on these occasions in coruscations of wit and humour, interspersed with pungent criticism and philosophical reflections which display a wonderful insight. Hence it is that one rarely fails to enjoy thoroughly an evening spent at a Persian banquet, and that the five or six hours during which it lasts hardly ever hang heavily on one's hands. The Persians have only two full meals in the day, Nahar, which one may call indifferently either breakfast or lunch, since on the one hand it is the first meal of the day, and on the other it is not taken to the little before noon, and Sharm or supper, which, as I have already stated, is eaten the last thing before retiring for the night. Besides these two meals tea is taken on rising in the morning and again in the afternoon. The usual way in which a Persian of the upper classes spends his day is then somewhat as follows. He rises early often before sunrise, which indeed he must do if devotionally inclined, for the morning prayer, and, after drinking a glass or two of tea, without milk, of course, and smoking a Kalyan, sets about the business of the day, whatever it may be. About noon or a little earlier he has his breakfast, Nahar, which differs little from supper as regards its material. After this, especially if the season be summer, he usually lies down and sleeps till about three p.m. From this time till sunset is the period for paying calls, so he either goes out to visit a friend or else stays at home to receive visitors. In either case, tea and Kalyans constitute a prominent feature in the afternoon's employment. Casual visitors do not, as a rule, remain long after sunset, and on their departure, unless an invitation to supper has been given or received, the evening is quietly past at home till the time for supper and bed arrives. In the case of government employees, as well as shopkeepers, tradesmen and others, whose hours of work are longer, a considerable portion of the afternoon may have to be spent in business, but in any case, this rarely lasts after four or five p.m. Calls may also be paid in the early morning before the day's work commences. The true Persian life is, however, as I have before remarked, much better seen in the provinces than in the capital, where European influences have already wrought a great change in national customs. Further remarks on it will therefore find a fitter place in a subsequent chapter. CHAPTER XI A Year Amongst the Persians by Edward Granville Brown I must now return to my life in the Nawab's house and the society which I there met. Amongst the visitors were a certain number of Afghans who had formed the suite of Ayub Khan before his attempted escape, and who were now to be transferred to Raul Pindi in India by way of Baghdad. The arrangements for their journey were entrusted mainly to my host, and for a time few days passed without his receiving visits from some of them. On these occasions I used often to remain in the room during the conversation, half of which, although it was conducted in Persian, was nearly unintelligible to me, for the Afghans speak in a manner and with an accent quite peculiar to themselves. These Afghans, who wore coloured turbans wound round a conical cap after the Indian fashion, were troublesome and cantankerous fellows, seeming never to be satisfied, and always wanting something more, a larger allowance of money, more horses, or more sumptuous litters for the journey. As a rule to their expressions betokened cruelty and deceit, though some of them were fine-looking men, especially an old mullah called Qazi Abdul Salam, who had held an important position under the late Amir Shir Ali. For the most part, however, the visitors were Persians, and of these a large proportion were natives of Shiraz, to whose eulogies of their beloved city, for all Shirazis are intensely patriotic, I used to listen with unwerying delight. They would praise the beautiful gardens, the far-famed stream of Ruk-Nabad, the soft sweet speech of the south, and the joyousness of the people. But when I exclaimed that Shiraz must be a very paradise, they would shake their heads sadly, and say, The place indeed has no fault, Vali Sahibi Nadarad, but it has no master, thinking perhaps of the happy time when the virtuous and noble Karim Khan, the Zend, held his court there and rejoiced in his palace, when he heard the sounds of merriment from the town, that his people should be free from care and sadness. One constant visitor was the Nawab's brother-in-law, Aqaa Muhammad Hassan Khan of the Qashqai tribe, which dwells in the neighbourhood of Shiraz. When he had ceased for a while the disquisitions on philosophy, which were his favourite theme, and had temporarily exhausted the praises of the master, as he called his teacher in the science, Mirza Abul Hassan Idilve, he too used to revert to the inexhaustible subject of the beauties of his native land. You must on no account postpone your visit to Shiraz later than the Nawaruz, the Persian New Year's Day, which corresponds with the vernal equinox. He would say, For then indeed there is no place on the face of the earth so beautiful. You know what the sheikh, i.e. Satdi, says, Pleasant is the New Year's outing, especially in Shiraz, which turns aside the heart of the traveller from his native land. In the evening, when I was alone with the Nawab, or his brother Isa Khan, a colonel in the Persian army, or my old friends, his nephews, the talk would turn on religion, philosophy, or literature. Sometimes they would entertain me with anecdotes of celebrated men, and accounts of curious superstitions and customs. Sometimes the Nawab would play on the sitar on which he was a proficient, while sometimes they would explain to me the intricacies of Mohammedan prayers and ablutions, and the points wherein the Shiites differ from the Sunnis, both in practice and belief. They did not fail on these occasions to point out the meaning which underlies many of the ordinances of Islam. The fast of Ramadan, they said, appears to you a most grievous burden for a prophet and legislator to lay upon his followers, but in truth in this is its very value for, as it is enjoined on all alike, the richer made to realize what hunger and thirst, which they would otherwise never experience, really are. Thus they are enabled to understand the condition of those who are always exposed to these trials, and brought to sympathize with them, and to strive to ameliorate their lot more than they would otherwise do. So too with our prayers are the ablutions by which they must be preceded. It is true that there is no special virtue in praying and washing oneself five times a day, but it is evident that one who is enjoined to remember his Creator thus often, and to keep his body pure and clean, will always have these objects in view, and will never, through negligence, fall into forgetfulness of God and disregard of personal cleanliness. Moreover we are forbidden to pray in any place which has been forcibly taken from its owner, or in which she does not give us permission to perform our devotions. This continually serves to remind us to be just and courteous in all our dealings, that our prayers may be acceptable to God. Sometimes a conversation was of a lighter character, and turned on the sayings of witty and learned men, their ready replies and pungent sarcasms. Of these anecdotes I will give a few specimens. Shaikh Sadi was unrivaled in ready wit and quickness of repartee, yet even he once met his match. It happened in this wise. The young Prince of Shiraz, who was remarkable for his beauty, went one day, accompanied by his retinue, to visit a mosque which was being built by his orders, at which he is still standing. As he passed by a workman who was digging, a piece of mud flew up from the spade and touched his cheek. Sadi, who was walking near him, saw this, and immediately exclaimed, making use of a quotation from the Qur'an, Ya laitani kunduduraba, Oh, would that I were earth! The Prince, hearing Sadi speak, but failing to catch his remark, asked, What does the Shaikh say? Another learned man who was present instantly interposed, May I be thy sacrifice! It was naught but a quotation from the Holy Book. Faqal al-kafiru ya laitani kunduduraba And the infidel said, Oh, would that I were earth! Sadi had made use of the quotation, forgetting for the moment in whose mouth the words were placed. His rival had not forgotten and, while appearing merely to justify Sadi, succeeded in applying to him the appropriate term of kafir, infidel. Obey d'Zakani was another celebrated poet, chiefly noted for the scathing satires which flowed from his pen. Even when he was on his deathbed, his grim humour did not desert him. Summoning successively to his side his two sons and his daughter, with every precaution to ensure secrecy that he had left behind for them a treasure which they must seek for on a particular hour of a certain day after his death and burial, in a place which he indicated. Be sure, he added in conclusion, that you go thither at that hour and at no other, and above all keep what I have said secret from my other children. Shortly after this the poet breathed his last, and when his body had been consigned to the grave and the day appointed for the search had come, each of his three children repaired secretly to the spot indicated. Great was the surprise of each to find that the others were also present and evidently bent on the same quest. Explanations of a not very satisfactory character ensued, and they then proceeded to dig for the treasure. Sure enough they soon came on a large parcel which they eagerly extracted from its place of concealment, and began to unfold. On removing the outer covering they found a layer of straw evidently designed to protect the valuable and perhaps fragile contents. Inside this was another smaller box an opening which a quantity of cotton wool appeared. An eager examination of this brought to light nothing but a small type of paper on which something was written. Disappointed in their search but still hoping that this document might prove a value, either by guiding them to the real treasure, or in some other way, they hastily bore it to the light, and read these words. God knows, and I know, and thou too knowest, that Obey Dizakhani does not possess a single copper. Whether the children were able to appreciate this final display of humour on the part of their father is not narrated by the historian. Satire, though, for obvious reasons cultivated to a much smaller extent than panagiric, did not by any means cease with the death of Obey Dizakhani which occurred about the year AD 1370. The following composed on the incapable and crotchety Haji Mirza Akhasi, Prime Minister of the late King Muhammad Shah, may serve as an example. The Haji did not leave a single dirham in the domains of the King. Everything small or great he expended on canards and guns, canards which convey no water to the fields of his friends, and guns which inflicted no injury on his family. The Haji did not leave a single dirham in the domains of the King. Everything small or great he expended on canards and guns which convey no water to the fields of his friends, and guns which inflicted no injury on his enemy. The wasteful and useless extravagance of Haji Mirza Akhasi, here held up to ridicule, was unfortunately far from being his greatest or most pernicious error. It was he who ceded to the Russians the sole right of navigating the Caspian Sea, remarking We are not waterfell that we should stand in need of salt water, to which he presently added the following sage-reflection It wouldn't do to embitter the sweet pallet of a friend for the sake of a handful of salt water. Readiness is a sine qua non in a Persian poet. He must be able to improvise at a moment's notice. One day Fat Ali Shah was riding through the bazaar surrounded by his courtiers, when he happened to notice amongst the apprentices in a coppersmith's shop a very beautiful boy whose fair face was begrimmed with cold dust. Begir de arisi mis garnisaste gardis ogal Around the cheeks of the coppersmith has settled the dust of the coal, said the king, improvising a hemi stitch. Now, Sir Laureate, turning to his court-poet, cut me that, if you can! Sada'i mis bifalak mi ravad kimach giriftast The clang of the copper goes up to heaven because the moon is eclipsed. Rejoined the Laureate, without a moment's hesitation. To appreciate the appositeness of this verse, the reader must know that a beautiful face is constantly compared by the Persians to the moon, and that when there is an eclipse of the moon, it is customary in Persia to beat copper vessels to frighten away the dragon, which is vulgarly supposed to have eaten it. This rhetorical figure, called Husni ta-lil, whereby an observed effect is explained by a fanciful cause, is a great favourite with the Persian poets. Here is another instance of a more exaggerated type, in a verse addressed by the poet Rasih to his sweetheart. Husni mahra bata sanjidam bimizani kiyas palay ma'bar falakshud utamani barzamin I weighed thy beauty against that of the moon in the balance of my judgement. The scale containing the moon flew up to heaven and thou wert left on the earth. Could a neater compliment, or one more exaggerated, be imagined? It is a fashion of some scholars to talk as if literary and poetical talent were a thing of the past in Persia. No mistake could possibly be greater. Everyone is aware of that form of hallucination, whereby the past is glorified at the expense of the present. That illusion which is typified both in the case of individuals and nations, in the phrase the happy days of childhood. Men not only forget the defects and disagreeables of the past, and remember only its glories, but they are very apt to weigh several centuries of the past against a few decades of the present. Where, the enthusiastic admirer of older Persian literature exclaims, are the rudagies, the firdausies, the nizamies, the omachayams, the anvaries, the satadies, the hafizies, the jammies of the glorious past. Where are such mighty singers to be found now? Leave aside the fact that these immortal bards ranged over a period of five centuries, and that when, at certain periods, the magnificent patronage of some prince collected together a number of contemporary poets, as at the so-called round table of Sultan Mahmud of Ghazni, posterity, perhaps wisely, often neglected to preserve the works of more than one or two of them, it may confidently be asserted that the present century has produced a group of most distinguished poets whose works will undoubtedly, when duly transfigured by the touch of antiquity, go to make up portions and parcels of the glorious past. Of modern Persian poets, the greatest is perhaps Qatani, who died about AD 1854. In Panajiric and satire alike, he is unrivaled, and he has a wealth of metaphor, a flow of language, and a sweetness of utterance scarcely to be found in any other poet. Although he lacks the mystic sublimity of jami, the divine despair of Omar Khayyam and the majestic grandeur of Fidalsi, he manifests at times a humour rarely met with in the older poets. One poem of his, describing a dialogue between an old man and a child, both of whom stammer, is very humorous. The child, and being first addressed by the old man, thinks that his manner of speech is being imitated and ridiculed, and is very angry. But, on being assured and finally convinced that his interlocutor is really afflicted in the same way, he is appeased and concludes with the words I also am a stammerer like unto thee. They also are to stammerer like unto me. The best poets at present living are Mirza'yi Farhang and Mirza'yi Yesdani, both of whom are very humorous. They are very humorous. They are very humorous. They are very humorous. They are very humorous. Yesdani, both of whom I met at Shiraz. They are the only two surviving brothers of Mirza Davari, also a poet of great merit. Their father, whose nom de guerre was Wissal, was widely famed for his poetic talent, and their sons already manifest unmistakable signs of genius. The conversation of my kind friends, who desired that I might become acquainted with everything calculated to illustrate Persian life, did not, however, confine itself only to the masterpieces of national poetry. Nursery Rhymes and School Boy Doggerall also came in for a share of attention. As a specimen of these, I may quote the following. Yadda Abylla Ahun Bekeshtavila Kalash Bidi Bimire Javas Bidi Namire Which may be paraphrased thus, Abu Lahab's Pride shall fall, put the master in the stall, he will die, if chaf you give, give him oaths, and he will live. I've already alluded to practical jokes and described one perpetrated wit of the fourteenth century. Let me add another of the present day, which, if rougher than that of Obadi Zakhani, was at least intended to convey a solitary lesson to the person on whom it was practised. Amongst the dependents of the governor of a certain town was a man who was possessed by the desire to discover some means of rendering himself invisible. At length he had the good fortune, as he thought, to meet with a dervish who agreed, for a certain sum of money, to supply him with some pills which would produce the desired effect. Filled with delight at the success which appeared at length to have crowned his efforts, the would-be dabbler and the occult sciences did not fail to boast openly before his comrades, and even before the governor, that on a certain day he would visit them unseen and prove the efficacy of his new acquisition. On the appointed day, having taken one or two of the magical pills, he accordingly came to the governor's palace, filled with delightful anticipations of triumph on his own part, and envious astonishment on the part of his friends. Now the governor was determined, if possible, to cure him of his taste for the black art, and had therefore given orders to the sentries, servants and other attendants, as well as to his own associates, that when the would-be magician arrived, they were all to behave as though they were unable to see him. Accordingly, when he reached the gate of the palace, he was delighted to observe that the sentries omitted to give him the customary salute. Proceeding further, he became more and more certain that the dervish's pills had produced the promised effect. No one looked at him, no one saluted him, no one showed any consciousness of his presence. After length he entered the room where the governor was sitting with his associates. Finding that these two appeared insensible to his presence, he determined to give them a proof that he had really been amongst them in invisible form, a fact which they might otherwise refuse to credit. A cauldron or water-pipe was standing in the middle of the room, the charcoal in it still glowing. The pseudo-magician applied his lips to the mouthpiece and began to smoke. He was present at once, broke out into expressions of astonishment. Wonderful, they exclaimed, look at that halyan, though no one is near it, it is just as if someone were smoking it. Nay, one can even hear the gurgle of the water in the bowl. Enchanted with the sensation he had caused, the invisible one became bolder. Some lighted candles were in the room, one of these he blew out. Even exclamations of surprise arose from the company. Marvelous, they cried, there is no wind, yet suddenly that candle has been blown out. What can possibly be the meaning of this? The candle was again lighted, and again promptly blown out. In the midst of fresh expressions of surprise the governor suddenly exclaimed, I have it, I know what has happened. So has no doubt eaten one of his magical pills, and is even now present amongst us, though we cannot see him. Well, we will see if he is intangible as well as invisible. Ho, there, bachaha! Bring the sticks quick, lay about you in all directions, perhaps you will be able to teach our invisible friend better manners. The faraches hastened to rain down a shower of blows on the unfortunate intruder, who cried out loudly for mercy. But where are you, demanded the governor, cease to be invisible and show yourself that we may see you? Oh, master! cried the poor crestfallen magician, if I be really invisible, how happens it that all the blows of the faraches reach me with such effect? I begin to think that I have been deceived by that rascally dervish, and that I am not invisible at all. On this, amidst the mirth of all present, the sufferer was allowed to depart with a recommendation that in future he should avoid the occult sciences, an injunction which one may reasonably hope he did not soon forget. Mysticism, Metaphysics and Magic Free thought and faith, the upshots won, they wrangle or anaim, interpretations differ, but the dream is still the same. Sa'ib. Buz-na-kad. No one yet hath unraveled a knot from the skein of the universe, and each who came and essayed the same but made the tangle worse. The most striking feature of the Persians as a nation is their passion for metaphysical speculation. This passion, so far from being confined to the learned classes, permeates all ranks and manifests itself in the shopkeeper and the mulletier as well as in the scholar and the man of letters. Not to give some account of this aspect of Persian life would then be a grave omission, calculated to prevent the reader from obtaining a just impression of the national character. That dogmatic theology is unfavorable to speculation is obvious, and, as few theological systems are more dogmatic and uncompromising than that of Islam, it might be expected that Persia, being one of the strongholds of the Mohammedan faith, would afford at best a sterile soil for the growth of other systems. Such, however, is far from being the case. Persia is and always has been a very hotbed of systems, from the time of Mani's and Mazdaq in the old Sasanian days down to the present age, which has brought into being the Barbies and the Shaikhs. When in the 7th century the warlike followers of the Arabian prophets swept across Iran, overwhelming in their tumultuous onslaught an ancient dynasty and a venerable religion, a change, apparently almost unparalleled in history, was in the course of a few years brought over the land. Where for centuries the ancient hymns of the Avesta had been chanted and the sacred fire had burnt, the cry of the Mu'ezin, summoning the faithful to prayer, rang out from minarets, reared on the ruins of the temples of Ahura Mazda. The priests of Zoroasta fell by the sword. The ancient books perished in the flames and soon none were left to represent a once mighty faith but a handful of exiles flying towards the shores of India and a despised and persecuted remnant in solitary Yezd and remote Kirmon. Truly it seemed that a whole nation had been transformed and that henceforth the Aryan Persian must not only bear the yoke of the Semitic lizardita whom he had formally so despised but must further adopt his creed and almost indeed his language. Yet after all the change was but skin deep and soon a host of heterodox sects born on Persian soil, Shiites, Sufis, Ishmaelis, philosophers, arose to vindicate the claim of Aryan thought to be free and to transform the religion forced on the nation by Arab steel into something which, though still wearing the semblance of Islam, had a significance widely different from that which one may fairly suppose was intended by the Arabian prophet. There is indeed another view possible, that of Monsieur Gobineau whose deep insight into Persian character entitles his opinion to careful consideration, Videti, that from the very beginning there were latent in the Muhammedan religion the germs of the most thoroughgoing pantheism and that Muhammad himself did but revive and formulate somewhat differently the ancient beliefs of Mesopotamia. Whether this be true or not, and the point is one which in my opinion cannot be regarded as altogether settled until the history of Sufism amongst those of Arab race shall have been more carefully studied. There is no doubt that certain passages in the Quran are susceptible to a certain degree of mystical interpretation. Take for instance the 17th verse of the 8th chapter where God reminds Muhammad that the victory of Bedr was only in appearance won by the valour of the Muslims. Fa'lam taktoluhum wa lakinalaha qatalahun wa ma'ramayta idramayta wa lakinalaha rammah and thou didst not slay them but God slew them and thou didst not shoot when thou didst shoot but God shot. Although there is no need to explain this otherwise than as an assurance that God supported the faithful in their battles either by natural or as the commentators assert by supernatural means and although it lends itself far less readily than many texts in the New and even in the Old Testament to mystical interpretation, it nevertheless serves the Persian Sufis as a foundation stone for their pantheistic doctrines. The prophet, they say, did not kill when men fell by his hand. He did not throw when he cast the handful of stones which brought confusion into the ranks of the heathen. He was in both cases but a mirror wherein was manifested the might of God. God alone was the real agent, as he is in all the actions which we, in our spiritual blindness, attribute to men. God alone is, and we are but the waves which stir for a moment on the surface of the ocean of being even as it runs in the tradition God was and there was naught but he and it is now even as it was then. Shall we say that God's creation is co-existent with him? Then we are Manichaeans and dualists, Naipolithaists, for we associate the creature with the Creator. Can we say that the sum of being was increased at the time when the phenomenal world first appeared? Assuredly not, for that would be to regard the being of God as a thing finite and conditioned because capable of enlargement and expansion. What then can we say except that even as God who alone is endowed with real existence was in the beginning and will be in the end if indeed one may speak of beginning and end where eternity is concerned and where time the element of this illusory dream which we call life has no place alone in his infinite splendour so also even now he alone is and all else is but as a vision which disturbs the night a cloud which dims the sun or a ripple on the bosom of the ocean. In such wise does the Sufi of Persia read the Quran and expound its doctrine. Those who are familiar with the different developments of mysticism will not need to be reminded that there is hardly any soil be it ever so barren where it will not strike root. Hardly any creed, however stern, however formal round which it will not twine itself. It is indeed the eternal cry of the human soul for rest the insatiable longing of a being wherein infinite ideals are fettered and cramped by a miserable actuality and so long as man is less than an angel and more than a beast this cry will not for a moment fail to make itself heard. Wonderfully uniform too is its tenor in all ages, in all countries, in all creeds whether it come from the Brahmin sage the Greek philosopher, the Persian poet or the Christian quietist it is in essence an enunciation more or less clear more or less eloquent of the aspiration of the soul to cease altogether from self and to be at one with God. As such it must awaken in all who are sensible of this need an echo of sympathy and therefore I feel that no apology is required for adding a few words more on the ideas which underlie all that is finest and most beautiful in Persian poetry and Persian thought. To the metaphysical conception of God as pure being and the ethical conception of God as the eternally holy the Sufi super-ads another conception which may be regarded as the keynote of all mysticism. To him above all else God is the eternally beautiful janani haki ki the true beloved before time was he existed in his infinite purity unrevealed and unmanifest. Why was this state changed? Why was the troubled phantasm of the contingent world evoked from the silent depths of the nonexistent? Let me answer in the words of Jamin who perhaps of all the mystic poets of Persia best knew how to combine depth of thought with sweetness and clearness of utterance. Poor as is my rendering of his sublime song it may still suffice to give some idea of the original. The passage is from his Yusuf Urzulaikha and runs as follows In solitude where being sinless dwelt and all the universe still dormant lay concealed in selflessness one being was exempt from eye or downess and apart from all duality beauty supreme unmanifest except unto itself by its own light yet fraught with power to charm the souls of all concealed in the unseen an essence pure unstained by autoville no mirror to reflect its loveliness nor comb to touch its locks the morning breeze near stirred its tresses no colirium lent luster to its eyes no rosy cheeks or shadowed by dark curls like hyacinth nor peach-light down were there no dusky mole adorned its face no eye had yet beheld its image to itself its sang of love in wordless measures by itself it cast the dye of love but beauty cannot brook concealment and the veil nor patient rest unseen admired twill burst all bonds and from its prison casement to the world reveal itself see where the tulip grows in upland meadows how in barmy spring it decks itself and how amidst its thorns the wild rose rends its garment and reveals its loveliness thou too when some rare thought or beautious image or deep mystery flashes across thy soul canst not endure to let it pass but holdst it that perchance in speech or writing thou mayest send it forth to charm the world wherever beauty dwells such is its nature and its heritage from everlasting beauty which emerged from realms of purity to shine upon the worlds and all the souls which dwell therein one gleam fell from it on the universe and on the angels and this single ray dazzled the angels till their senses world like the revolving sky in diverse forms each mirror showed it forth and everywhere its praise was chanted in new harmonies each speck of matter did he constitute a mirror causing each one to reflect the beauty of his visage from the rose flashed forth his beauty and the nightingale beholding it loved madly from that light the candle drew the luster which beguiled the moth to immolation on the sun his beauty shone and straightway from the wave the lotus reared its head each shining lock of lila's hair attracted Majnun's heart because some ray divine reflected shone in her fair face was he to Shirin's lips who lent that sweetness which had power to steal the heart from Parviz and from Ferhad life his beauty everywhere doth show itself and through the forms of earthly beauties shines obscured as through a veil he did reveal his face through Joseph's coat and so destroyed Zulaikha's peace where ere thou ceased the veil beneath that veil he hides whatever heart doth yield to love he charms it in his love the heart hath life longing for him the soul hath victory that heart which seems to love the fair ones of this world loves him alone beware say not he is all beautiful and we his lovers thou art but the glass and he the face confronting it which casts its image on the mirror he alone is manifest and thou in truth art hid pure love like beauty coming but from him reveals itself in thee if steadfastly thou canst regard thou wilt at length perceive he is the mirror also he alike the treasure and the casket I and thou have here no place and are but fantasies vain and unreal and no sense for this tale is endless and no eloquence hath power to speak of him it is best for us to love and suffer silently being as nought but is this the sum of the Sufi's philosophy is he to rest content with earthly love because he knows that the love as homage is in truth rendered not to the shrine at which he offers his devotion to the Shekinah which inhabits and irradiates it not so let us listen once more to the utterance of Jami be thou the thrall of love make this thine object for this one thing seemeth to wise men worthy be thou love's thrall that thou mayst win thy freedom bear on thy breast its brand that thou mayst blithe be love's wine will warm thee senses all else's soulless stupor and self-seeking remembrances of love refresh the lover whose voice when lording love air waxeth loudest but he that drained a draft from this deep goblet in the wide worlds not one would what of much noon thousands of wise and well-learned men have wended through life who since for love they had no liking have left nor name nor note nor sign nor story nor tale for future time nor fame for fortune sweet songsters midst the birds are found in plenty but when love's law is taught by the love-learned of moth and nightingale they most make mention though in this world a hundred tasks thou tryest tis love alone which from thou save thee even from the earthly love thy face avert not since to the real it may serve to raise thee ere ABC are rightly apprehended how can't thou con the pages of thy Quran a sage so heard I unto whom a student came craving council on the course before him said if thy steps be strangers to love's pathways learn love and then return before me for should thou fear to drink wine from forms flaggin thou can't not drain the draft of the ideal but yet beware be not by form belated strive rather with all speed the bridge to traverse if to the born thou feign would spare thy baggage upon the bridge let not thy footsteps linger the renunciation of self is the great lesson to be learnt and its first steps may be learnt from a merely human love but what is called love is often selfish really absolutely unselfish the test of unselfish love is this that we should be ready and willing to sacrifice our own desires happiness even life itself to render the beloved happy even though we know that our sacrifice will never be understood or appreciated and that we shall therefore not be rewarded for it by an increase of love or gratitude such is the true love which leads us up to God we love our fellow creatures because there is in them something of the divine some dim reflection of the true beloved reminding our souls of their origin home and destination from the love of the reflection cast to the love of the light which casts it and loving the light we at length become one with it losing the false self and gaining the true therein attaining at length to happiness and rest and becoming one with all that we have loved the essence of that which constitutes the beauty alike of a noble action a beautiful thought or a lovely face a beautiful philosophy beautiful as it is and worthy as it is of deeper study I have said as much about it as my space allows and must pass on to speak of other matters mysticism is in its nature somewhat vague and difficult to formulate varying in character between an emotional philosophy and a devotional religion on one side of it stands metaphysic and on the other theology I do not propose to speak save incidentally as occasion arises neither is this the place to treat systematically of the various schools of philosophy which have sprung up in Persia of the earlier ones indeed one may say generally that they are adaptations of either Aristotle or Plato and that they may most fitly be described as the scholasticism of Islam of two of the later philosophers however Mullah Sadra of Shiraz and Haji Mullah Hadi of Sabzawar I shall say a few words in as much as they mark a new development in Persian thought while at the same time they are less known in Europe than the Abyssinas, the Ghazalis and the Farabies of earlier days Mullah Sadruddin Muhammad Ibn Ibrahim Ibn Yahya commonly known as Mullah Sadra flourished in the latter half of the 17th century he was the son of a rich merchant of Shiraz who had grown old without being blessed with the son being very desirous of leaving an heir to inherit his wealth he made a vow that if God would grant him this wish he would give the sum of one to man about six shillings a day to the poor for the rest of his life soon afterwards Mullah Sadra was born and the father faithfully accomplished his vow till his death when this occurred Mullah Sadra who had already manifested an unusual attitude for learning and a special taste for philosophy decided after consulting with his mother to bestow the greater portion of the wealth which he had inherited on the poor and to go to Isfahan to prosecute his studies it was the time when the Safavi kings ruled over Persia with their capital at Isfahan and the colleges of that city were famed throughout the east Mullah Sadra inquired on his arrival there who were the most celebrated teachers of philosophy and was informed that they were three in number Mir Abu Qasim Fanderaski Mir Muhammad Baqir and Shaykh Beha Oddin Amili he was first presented himself before Mir Damad and asked for advice as to his studies the latter replied if you want inward meaning only go to Mir Fanderaski if you want Mir outward form go to Shaykh Beha but if you desire to combine both then come to me Mullah Sadra accordingly attended the lectures of Mir Damad regularly but did not fail to profit as far as possible by the teaching of the other professors but length it happened that Mir Damad desired to undertake the pilgrimage to Mecca he therefore bade each of his pupils composed during his absence a treatise on some branch of philosophy which should be submitted to him on his return in order that he might judge of the progress they had made acting on his injunction Mullah Sadra wrote his first great work Evidences of Divinity which he presented to his teacher on his return from the pilgrimage sometime afterwards when Mullah Sadra was walking beside Mir Damad the latter said to him oh my dear Sadra this has taken my work out of the midst meaning that he had superseded it by the work which he had just composed this generous recognition of his merit by his teacher was the beginning of a wide celebrity which has gone on increasing till this day yet this celebrity brought him into some danger from the fanatical Mullahs who did not fail to detect in his works the savor of heterodoxy it was during his residence at Qum especially that his life was jeopardised by the indignation of these zealots but on many occasions he was subjected to annoyances and persecutions he lived at a time when the clerical power was paramount and philosophy in disrepute had he lived later he might have been the recipient of favours from the great and have enjoyed tranquility and opulence as it was, his was the glory of once more bringing back philosophy to the land whence it had been almost banished Mullahs Sadra gained numerous disciples some of whom such as Mullah Mohsini Faiz attained to great fame and left behind him a multitude of books mostly in Arabic of which the shawahidi already mentioned the poetic and voluminous work called the Asfali Arabaa four treatises enjoy the greatest reputation the three points claimed as original in Mullahs Sadra's teaching are as follows 1. His axiom basit olha kikat kololashya wa laisabishay minha the element of real being is all things yet is none of them 2. His doctrine that the cognition of any object only becomes possible by the identification of the Noah with the known 3. His assertion that the imagination is independent of the physical organism and belongs in its nature to the world of the soul hence that not only in young children but even in animals it persists as a spiritual entity after death in this point he differed from his ancestors who held that it was only with the development of the rational soul that immortality became possible I must now pass on to Hajimullah Hadi of Subzawar the greatest Persian philosopher of the 19th century he was the son of Hajimahdi and was born in the year Anohedjirai 1212 AD 1797 to 8 he began his studies at only 7 years old under the tuition of Hajimullah Hussein of Subzawar and at the early age of 12 composed a small treatise anxious to pursue his studies in theology and jurisprudence he visited Mashhad in company with his teacher and remained there for 5 years living in the most frugal manner not from necessity for he was far from poor but from choice and his studies with unremitting ardour when in his 17th year he heard of the fame of Mullah Ali Noori who was then teaching in Isfahan he was very anxious to proceed dither at once but was for several years prevented from so doing by the opposition of his friends ultimately however he was enabled to gratify his wishes and to take up his residence at Isfahan where he diligently attended the lectures of Mullah Ali Noori he appears however to have received more advantage from the help of one of Mullah Ali's pupils named Mullah Ismail the one-eyed in Isfahan he remained for 7 years devoting himself with such avidity to the study of philosophy that he rarely slept for much more than 4 hours out of the 24 to combat slothfulness of reposing on a cloak spread on the bare brick floor of the little room which he occupied in the college with nothing but a stone for his pillow the simplicity and indeed austerity of his life was far from being his chief or only merit being possessed of private means greatly in excess of what his simple requirements demanded he used to take pains to discover which of the students stood most of picunery help and would then secretly place sums of money varying from 1 to 5 or even 10 to mons 6 shillings to 3 pounds in their rooms during their absence without leaving any clue which could lead to the identification of the donor in this manner he is said to have expended no less than 100,000 to mons about 30,000 pounds while he was in Isfahan leaving himself only so much as he deemed necessary for his own maintenance having completed his studies at Isfahan he made a pilgrimage to Mecca whence he returned by way of Kirbon there he remained for a while and married a wife whom he took back to his native town of Sub-Zawad soon after his return he paid another visit to Mushhad and remained there 10 months in philosophy but soon returned thence to settle in Sub-Zawad wither his increasing renown began to draw students from all parts of Persia during the day he used to give 2 lectures each of 2 hours duration on metaphysics taking as his text either sum of the writings of Mullah Sadra or his own notes the rest of his time was spent for the most part in study and devotion in person he was tall of stature thin and of slender frame his complexion was dark his face pleasing to look upon his speech eloquent and flowing his manner gentle unobtrusive and even humble his abstemiousness was such that he would never eat more than the limited number of mouthfuls which he deemed necessary neither would he accept the invitations which he often received from the great he was always ready to help the widow the orphan and the stranger and ever exemplified in his demeanour the upper-thame of book al-is-sina ab-i-sena ad-ri-fu-ha-shun pas-shun wa-kay-fa-la wa-hu-wa-fa-hanu bil-ha-ki-wa bi-kuli-shay the gnostic is gentle, courteous, smiling and how should it be otherwise in God, and in all things the complete course of instruction in philosophy which he gave lasted seven years at the end of which period those students who had followed it diligently were replaced by others many of course were unable to complete their education but on the whole nearly a thousand satisfactorily accomplished it till within three days of his death Hadji Mullahadi never disappointed his eager audience of a single lecture and he was eagerly engaged in teaching when struck down by the disease which terminated his life. The eager throng of students surrounded him in a circle while he was speaking of the essence and attributes of God when suddenly he was overcome by faintness and laid down the book which he held in his hand saying, I have so often repeated the word he, i.e. God in which sense only the Arabic pronoun is used by Persians that it has become fixed in my head and my head following my tongue seems to keep crying, hoo, hoo. Having uttered these words he laid down his head and fainted and two days later he peacefully passed away in the year Anno Hejairi 1295 Anno Domini, 1878 Sincerely mourned by those to whom he had been endeared alike by his learning and his benevolence he was buried according to instructions contained in his will outside the mush-hard gate of Sabzawar A handsome tomb has been raised over his grave by orders of the Grand Vizier and the spot is regarded as one of great sanctity and is visited by numerous pilgrims So died after a noble and useful life, the Sage of Sabzawar His major works amount to about 17 in number including an elementary treatise on philosophy written in Persian in an easy style at the request of the Shah and entitled Secrets of Philosophy He was a poet as well as a metaphysician and has left behind him a collection as well as two long and highly esteemed versified treatises in Arabic one on logic, the other on metaphysic He had three sons of whom the eldest, who was also by far the most capable survived him only two years the other two are still 1893 living at Sabzawar and one at least of them still teaches in the college on which his father's later luster the pupils of the Sage of Sabzawar entertained for him an unbounded love and veneration they even believe him to have been endowed with the power of working miracles though he himself never allowed this statement to be made before him My teacher Mirza Asad Ulla informed me however that the following was a well known fact Ulla's son-in-law had a daughter who had been paralysed for years one night a year after the Haji's death she saw him in a dream and he said to her Arise my daughter and walk the excessive joy which she experienced at seeing him and hearing these words caused her to wake up she immediately roused her sister who was sleeping beside her and told her what she had dreamt better get up and try if you can walk perhaps there is more in the dream than mere fancy after a little persuasion the girl got up and found to her delight that she really was able to walk quite well next day she went to the Haji's tomb to return thanks accompanied by a great crowd of people to whom her former affliction was as well known as her present recovery was obvious another event less marvellous however than the above was related to me as follows when a detachment of the army was passing through Sub-Sawad a soldier who had been given a requisition for corn for the horses drawn on a certain mullah brought the document to Haji Mullah Hadi and asked him in whose name it was drawn as he himself was unable to read the Haji looked at it and knowing that the mullah had been commanded to supply the corn was in impoverished circumstances and could ill support the loss replied I must supply you with what you require go to the storehouse and take it accordingly the soldier carried off as much corn as he needed and gave it to the horses in the morning however on entering the stable the soldiers found that the corn was untouched inquiries were made once it came it was being discovered that it was the property of the Haji it was returned to him this story soon gained currency and credence amongst the officers and men alike and added not a little to the Haji's reputation notwithstanding that he himself continued to make light of it and even to deny it it may not be amiss to give some details as to the course of study which those who desired Haji's lectures were expected to have already pursued and the subjects in which they had to produce evidence of proficiency before they were received as his pupils these preliminary studies were as follows one grammar, rhetoric etc ebediye also called preliminaries mukaddamat under this head is included a competent knowledge of Arabic and its grammar with ability to read such works as jamit as commentary soyodit and the mutawwal two logic, mantik as contained in such treatises as the kubra, the shamsiye and the shahimatali three mathematics including euclid and astronomy which is studied paripassu with logic four jurisprudence five scholastic theology as set forth in the following works one the hidayet of maybudi a concise but knotty compendium of the elements of this science in Arabic two with a commentary of mulaali kushji three asak lahiji the son-in-law of mula sadra those students who are able to show that they had acquired a satisfactory knowledge of these subjects were allowed to enroll themselves as the pupils of hadji mula hadi and to commence their study of metaphysics proper as set forth in his works and in those of mula sadra end of section 13