the Koran or the Sonna, and that their grossest passages are less demoralizing than the impostor's pictures of his sensual paradise.

But it is not merely from their moral tendency that we conceive these books to have been highly useful in the East. Strange as it may appear, we entertain no doubt that they have strongly influenced the civil and political condition of the people. The reader need not be informed, that the Persian monarchy is one of the purest despotisms on earth. The absolute power of the sovereign over the lives and liberties of his subjects is no more doubted by the former or disputed by the latter, than their own existence. Indeed so perfectly despotic is the government, that there is actually no diversity of ranks among the people. The constitution recognises but two orders, king and slave. All further distinction emanates entirely from the king, and being merely personal, expires with the possessor. The constant tendency of such a system must be to extremes-to rouse the subject to resistance, or to sink him in stupid apathy. Had the populace sufficient strength of character and light of understanding, the frequent revolutions which diversify their history might better their condition. But as it is, they amount to a mere change of masters. To prevent the opposite extreme of entire stagnation, two things are necessary, a strong check on the sovereign, and as strong a stimulus to act upon the people. Both these important safeguards, Providence has vouchsafed in the case before us. The Mohammedan religion, though perfectly absurd as a system of belief, and wholly deficient as a moral code, has been instrumental in controlling the condition of the people who profess it, in several important points. One of these has been already mentioned; another may be introduced at present. Despotic as the Eastern monarch is, Mohammedism is more despotic still. He grinds the faces of the peasantry, but it binds him down as with a chain of adamant. No force, no subterfuge, can emancipate the Moslem prince from the grasp of his religion. Unable as it is to touch the heart or change the character, it possesses in an eminent degree the power of controlling men in elevated stations. Turkey and Persia both bear testimony to this fact. Open the history of either people, or the writings of travellers among them, and it will be seen that without the counter-despotism of the ecclesiastics, the grasping and oppressive spirit of their kings would have no barrier. Here then is the check upon the sovereign. The stimulus we spoke of is presented in such books as that before us. Their subject, form and manner, are precisely suited to procure them access to the very lowest peasants, (for almost all Mohammedans can read;) while the truths which they inculcate, are precisely such as their condition calls for. It is a singular phenomenon, that in

the very countries where a syllable uttered extempore in disparagement of royalty, or in favour of the rights of man, would expose the speaker to a cruel death, books are in every body's hands, which teach in the plainest terms, that the end of-government is the welfare of the governed, and that kings are responsible to God for their treatment of their subjects. It is not to be supposed, however, that this political paradox results from the forbearance of the rulers. It exists, not in consequence, but in defiance of their choice. Writings which have survived a thousand revolutions, and through all the changes and reverses of the state, enjoyed for centuries a universal circulation, are beyond the reach of arbitrary power. The peasantry cling to them with invincible tenacity, as panaceas for their multiplied. oppressions. Their possessions may be seized, and their persons tortured, but their liberty of speech increases with the violence they suffer. As the Arabic proverb well expresses it, when man grows desperate, his tongue grows long. The miserable Persian, as he writhes beneath the bastinado, when bribes and entreaties have proved vain, relieves himself by pouring forth a volley of epigrammatical curses on the wickedness of tyrants, and threats of retributive justice, in the words of Sadi. This is, indeed, a miserable solace for inflictions so unmercifully rigorous; but it puts the oppressor on his guard, and compels him to remember, that though the many-headed monster is subdued, its moanings and the flashes of its eye are ominous. The Shah, all absolute as he is, cannot forget that every child in his dominions has been taught to repeat, among a thousand of the same sort, the memorable apothegm of Sadi, kings were created to protect the people, not the people to serve kings.t

*

One other public benefit resulting from these works, remains to be adverted to. They preserve some degree of intellectual activity, amidst external circumstances, which naturally tend to paralyze the faculties. Works more elaborate might benefit the learned, but could never reach the vulgar. For the latter, something pointed but intelligible, pleasing but instructive, gaudy but substantial, is required. Such are the works of which we speak, and being such, they deserve the praise of having, notwithstanding their deficiency when measured by our standards, preserved the public mind from complete stagnation, if not the public taste from radical corruption.

The foregoing observations, though applicable more or less to a whole class of compositions, are particularly true of the Gulistan, which, as we have again and again said, is surpassed by none of the same genus, either in celebrity or intrinsic excel

• Idha-yayis-elinsan-tal-lisanuhu.

+ Muluk-ez-behri-pas-riaya-and, nch-riaya-ez-behri-taaet-i-muluk.

lence. To satisfy at once the curiosity of the reader, we shall state here, in plain terms, that the Gulistan, or Bed of Roses, is a series of anecdotes, most of them very short, varying greatly in their character. The beauty of one consists in a smart pun, of another in a witty repartee, of a third in the interest or pathos of the story, and of a fourth in the rhythm of the sentences.

This last, which the Orientals reckon a great beauty, and on which their secondary writers most depend for reputation, must be quite beyond the comprehension of mere English readers. To enlighten their minds, we would inform them, that the Arabic and Persian rhetoricians regard it as essential to the harmony of style, that the limbs or clauses should terminate with sounds either exactly similar, or so nearly alike as to produce a kind of jingle when recited. If to this an antithesis in the sense be superadded, the merit of the composition is increased proportionally. Nor is it difficult to find a cause for this strange perversity of taste. The Koran, their universal oracle and standard, is composed from end to end upon this principle. * Nay, it is on this very circumstance that Moslems found its claims to admiration as a master-piece of eloquence, adducing as an evidence of super-human origin, the very thing which in our eyes most strongly marks it an absurd imposture.

But to return to Sadi. The anecdotes which, as we have remarked, form the ground work of the Gulistan, are, with four or five exceptions, written in prose,-sometimes jingling and ridiculous, sometimes beautiful and simple. To each of the anecdotes is added one or more rhymed couplets, purporting to convey the moral of the fable; though in nine cases out of ten, it requires some study to discover the fine nexus which unites them. In point of fact, the author merely makes use of these metrical appendages to vent all the allusions and conceits supplied by his memory or fancy, in relation to the topic touched upon, without taking pains to make it any clearer than the story left it.

We must confess, that we prefer Sadi's prose altogether to his verse. Speaking agreeably to our ideas on the subject, the for

The Koran may be said to be composed in rhyme. We open the volume at a venture, at the twenty-first surah, and find it to consist of one hundred and three verses, all of which terminate in oon, or een, or eem. The following will give some idea of the jingle. "Falyatina biayatin cama ursila 'lawwaloon-wa ma arsalna kablaca illa rijalan noohee ilaihim fasaaloo ahla dhicri contum la taalamoon—wa la jaalnahum jasadan la yaaculoona 'Haama wa ma canoo khalideen-thumma sadaknahumu 'Iwaada faanjainahum wa man yashau wa ahlacna 'Imusrifeen-lacad anzalna ilaicum citaban feehi dhikrucum afala taakiloon-wa cam casamna min karyatin canat zalimatan wa anshaana baadaha kawman akhereen-falamma ahassu baasana idha hum minha yarkudzoon." The whole is recited in the mosques with a sort of modulated whine, but the words which close the cadences, and which we have marked in italics, are uttered with a particularly long and Alexandrine draw),

mer not only has more meaning in it, but is actually more poetical. With the exception of some fine descriptive, and some finer moral passages, the metrical portions of this book, though they abound in antitheses and points, and are often both witty and ingenious, are extremely flat. They are often, indeed, mere epigrams, and as such very good, and it is to their epigrammatic character that they owe their hold upon the memory of the popu

lace.

Oriental writers, upon moral and religious subjects, seem to entertain some notions, as to their own privileges, quite repugnant to the views of men a little further west. When they advance a doctrine, which appears to need support or illustration, instead of taking such authentic facts as bear upon the matter, or limiting themselves to abstract argument, they never scruple to invent an incident precisely in point, by way of confirmation. To this there could be no objections, were these false facts introduced as mere fictitious illustrations. But this is seldom done. The imaginary action or discourse is commonly referred to some illustrious saint, patriarch, or prophet, and stated with as much formal gravity as if it was a most momentous truth. The commentators on the Koran seem to have set the fashion in this questionable practice; for whenever the Book is particularly foolish, contradictory, or unintelligible, they very coolly tell a long story in the margin, about the circumstances which occasioned the hard text, and this comment being made to fit, never fails to solve the difficulty. Such being the practice of the writers who have undertaken to explain their sacred volume, it is not surprising that the same license has been arrogated by those handling subjects of less moment. This strange abuse has undoubtedly a tendency to cast a shade of doubt on all their historical allusions and incidental statements. It was this consideration which suggested to us some doubt as to the reliance to be placed upon Sadi's auto-biographical memoranda. In the book before us, there are many instances in which an air of historical truth is given, in this way, to mere creations of the author's fancy. At present, we can only turn to two, a quotation from the Gospel, (page 189,) and a story of Moses and a drunken dervish, (page 91,) both of which are forgeries.

The Gulistan is divided into eight books or chapters, literally gates. The subject of the first is the Character of Kings. To this part of the work we had reference, in speaking of its political effects. It is chiefly filled with stories of oppressive kings, who suffered dreadful retribution, or at least severe reproof,

The credit of inventing this mode of exposition is, in fairness, due to the Rabbinical commentators on the Old Testament, from whom it was borrowed by Beidhawi, et id genus omne.

sparingly interspersed with anecdotes of monarchs distinguished for generosity and justice. The latter, for the most part, relate to Nushirvan, whose name is synonymous, in Persian books, with a just king. In the other stories there is commonly no mention of an individual, a lamentable proof of the paucity of good kings, and the abundance of tyrants in the East.

The second book treats of Dervishes,* and seems to be designed to set off the character of the true dervish in a favourable light, and expose that of false pretenders to merited contempt. It is amusing to observe how diligently Sadi seizes every opportunity to raise his own profession over every other, by recounting the severe rebukes and witty repartees, with which his real or imaginary dervishes silenced the hapless kings, merchants, warriors, and infidels, who happened to dispute with

them.

The subject of the third book is the advantages of temperance and contentment;-that of the fourth, the benefits of silence. The fifth contains love-stories, and is about the lowest of the eight in moral, intellectual, and literary merit. It also contains specimens of the worthy Sheikh's politeness to his friends, memoranda of the compliments addressed to them on different occasions, and practical illustrations of the truth that a soft answer turneth away wrath. The subject of the sixth book is old age. It consists of a few trifling anecdotes about the deeds and sayings of old men. The seventh is intended to exhibit the advantages of education, and closes with a long and humorous account of a controversy between Sadi and another dervish, on the comparative merits of the rich and poor. The dervish poured forth invectives against rich men, and eulogiums upon poverty, while Sadi withstood him upon both grounds, with such zeal, that from words they came to blows, and were only reconciled at last by the decision of a Cazi. The last book is a collection of about a hundred proverbs, bons-mots, epigrams, and proverbs, accompanied with tail-pieces in verse, and apparently intended to exhibit the essence of the former seven books in a concentrated form.

Neither our limits nor the patience of our readers will permit any more minute analysis of the several chapters. We shall not even venture on a statement of the qualities by which the work

To those who feel any curiosity to know the definition of a dervish, the following short picture may possess some interest. "The duties of a dervish are, the reading of the Koran, praise, adoration, obedience, —, abstinence, a belief in the unity of God, trust in God, and resignation. Whoever is characterized by these qualities, is in truth a dervish, though he wear a robe; whereas the loquacious, prayerless, frivolous sensualist, who turns night into day by his de baucheries, and day into night by wasting it in sleep, who eats whatever he can lay his hands on, and says whatever rises on his tongue, is a reprobate, though clad in a religious dress." Gulistan, p. 82.