[Sidenote: A monumental piece of literature.]
The matter would have been less troublesome for me had I been able straight way to declare as the best the tradition of any of the manuscripts familiarly known to me or any old translation. That, however, is not so. I have to judge each case by itself and to proceed eclectically as much as my philological conscience permits. Finally, by means of my rendering I believe I have reproduced the import of this monumental piece of literature without showing absolute partiality to the Arabic document. My rendering is wanting doubtless in the elegance with which Ibn Moqaffa handles the language which in his time had acquired the capacity of treating even abstract subjects with lucidity. May a later hand improve upon my translation!
Only those who attempt it can appreciate how difficult it is to make a tolerable European translation even of an easily intelligible Arabic text. A literal translation would be wooden. We have often to alter the entire construction and to insert all manner of words foreign to the Arabic to make the context clear. On the other hand the translator must avoid employing the same expression in rapid succession, a procedure which is common in Arabic even if we make allowance for the figura etymologica and the like.
[Sidenote: Ibn Qutaiba and Ibn Moqaffa.]
I only know two passages in this chapter which are quoted by Arabic authors. Brockelmann informs me that no quotation from our chapter occurs in the unpublished portion of the Uyun of Ibn Qutaiba. Unless I am mistaken the excerpts in this book from Kalila wa Dimna are not always correct. Ibn Qutaiba was concerned more with the sense than with the phraseology of Ibn Moqaffa.
THE STATEMENT OF BURZOE THE PERSIAN PHYSICIAN IN CHIEF,
Who undertook to transcribe and translate this Indian Book (Kalila wa
Dimna).
[Sidenote: Autobiographical.]
My father belonged to the Warrior class, my mother came of an eminent priestly family. One of the earliest boons which the Lord conferred on me was that I was the most favourite child of my parents and that they exerted themselves more for my education than for my brothers. So when I was seven years old they sent me to a children's school.
[This was required to be mentioned in his case inasmuch as it could not have been necessary or usual for a child of distinguished parentage in early Persia to be educated in a public school.]
When I had learnt the ordinary writing I was thankful to my parents and perceived something in knowledge.
[In spite of the wide divergence in the Arabic texts and translations the sense of the original is clear. Note the reference to the difficult nature of the Pehlevi syllabary. Only the Spanish version has a good deal more about the schooling.]
[Sidenote: Appreciation of the healing art.]
And the first branch of science to which I felt inclination was medicine. It had a great attraction for me because I recognised its excellence and the more I acquired it the more I loved it and the more earnestly I studied it. Now when I had progressed sufficiently far to think of treating invalids I took counsel with myself and reflected in the following manner on the four objects for which mankind so earnestly strive. "Which of them shall I seek to acquire with the help of my art, money, prosperity, fame, or reward in the next world"? In the choice of my calling the decisive factor was my experience that men of understanding praise medicine and that the adherents of no religion censure it. I found, however, in medical literature that the best physician is he who by his devotion to his vocation strives only after a reward in the next world; and I resolved to act accordingly and not to think of worldly gain, so that I may not be likened to the merchant who sold for a worthless bead a ruby by which he could have acquired a world of wealth. On the other hand, I found in the books of the ancients that when a physician strives after the reward in the next world by means of his art he thereby forfeits no fraction of his worldly guerdon but that therein he is to be compared with the peasant who carefully sows his plot of ground to acquire corn and who subsequently without further effort gets along with the harvest all manner of vegetation.
[The cultivator along with the harvest gets grass and vegetation which may serve as a pasture for cattle.]
[Sidenote: Burzoe starts practice.]
I, therefore, directed my attention to the hope of securing recompense in the next world by curing the sick and was at considerable pains in the treatment of all the deceased whom I hoped to cure and even such as were past all such hopes, whose suffering I endeavoured at least to alleviate. I personally attended those I could; but where this was not possible I gave the patients the necessary instructions and also sent medicine. And from none of those whom I so treated did I demand payment or other return. I was jealous of none of my colleagues who was my equal in knowledge and who excelled me in repute and riches; although as a matter of fact he was lacking in equity and good manners. When, however, my soul felt inclined to impel me to be jealous of such and to be covetous of a situation like his I met it with severity in the following manner:—
[Sidenote: Burzoe addresses his own soul. The physician's arduous calling.]
[Sidenote: A simile.]
O soul, dost not thou differentiate between what is useful and what is injurious to thee? Dost thou not cease wishing for the acquisition of that which secures for every one a small gain but which entails severe exertion and privation and which, when he must at last relinquish it, procures him much sorrow and severe punishment in the next world? O soul, thinkest thou not of that which succeeds this life and forgettest it because of thy avarice for the things of this world? Art thou not ashamed to live the evanescent terrestrial life in the company of men of feeble intellect and fools? It belongs not to him even who has something of it in his hand: it does not endure with him and only the infatuated and the negligent depend upon it. Desist from this irrationality and bend all thy might, so long as in thee lies, to exert thyself for the good and for divine recompense. Beware of procrastination. Reflect on the fact that our body is destined to all manner of unhappiness and permeated with the four perishable and impure principles which are enclosed in it, which struggle against each other, defeating each other by turn, and thus support life which itself is transient. Life is like a statue with several limbs. When properly adjusted each in its right place, they hold themselves together on a single pivot but which, when the latter is taken off, fall to pieces. O soul, do not deceive thyself owing to intercourse with friends and companions and do not strain thyself after it, inasmuch as this intercourse brings no doubt joy but also much hardship and tribulation and finally ends in separation. It is like a ladle which men use for hot soup, so long as it is new but when it breaks they have done with it—burn it. O soul, allow not thyself to be moved by family and relations to amass property for them so that thyself should perish. Thou shouldst, then, be like fragrant incense which is burnt only for the enjoyment of others. They are like a hair which men cherish so long as it remains on the head but cast it off as impure as soon as it falls. O soul, be steadfast in treating the diseased and give it not up because thou findest that the physician's profession is arduous and people do not recognise its uses and high value. Judge only thyself whether a man who cures in another a disease making him feel once more fresh and whole is not worthy of a great reward and handsome remuneration. This is the case with one who has solicitude for a single individual; how much more then is this so in the case of a medicineman who for meed in the next world thus acts towards a, large number of men, so that they after torturing pains and maladies, which shut them out from the enjoyment of the world, from food and drink, wife and child, feel once more as well as ever before. Who indeed merits larger reward and nobler retribution? O soul, do not put away from thy sight things of the next world because thou hungerest after passing life. For thou, in thy haste to acquire a triviality surrenderest the valuable; and such people are in the position of the merchant who had a house full of aloe wood and who said, "If I were to sell this by weight it would take me too long" and therefore gave it away wholesale for a trifling price.
[Sidenote: Autobiographical]
After thus I had replied to my soul and thereby explained matters to it and guided it aright it could not deviate from truth, yielded to righteousness and abandoned what it was inclined to. Accordingly I continued to treat the sick for the sake of my reward in the next world. This, however, by no means prevented my acquiring a rich portion of earthly goods before my journey to India as well as after my return from the kings, and that was more than I was ambitious of or had hoped for, for a man in my position and my calling.
[Sidenote: Limitations of the healing art.]
Thereafter I again reflected on the healing art and found that the physician can employ no remedy for a suffering patient which so completely cures his disease that it does not attack him again or that he is immune from a worse disorder. While, therefore, I was unaware how I could effect a perfect cure secure against the recurrence of a disease, I saw that on the other hand acknowledge of the next world was a permanent absolute protection against all distempers. Accordingly I conceived a contempt for the healing art and a longing for religious knowledge.
[Sidenote: Uncertainty of religious Verity.]
[Sidenote: Burzoe inquires of religious heads on matters divine: his disappointment.]
When, however, this occurred to my mind it was not clear to me how matters stood with reference to religion. I found nothing in the writings on pharmacy which indicated to me the truest religion. So far as I saw there were many religions and creeds and their adherents were again disunited. Some inherit their religion from their fathers; others are compelled to adhere to it by fear and pressure; others again aim at worldly advantages, enjoyments and renown. Everyone claims for himself the possession of the true and right faith and denounces that of others as false and erroneous. Their views on the world and other problems are entirely conflicting yet each despises the other, is inimical to and censures every other creed. I then resolved to turn to the learned and leaders of every religions community with a view to examining their doctrines and precepts in order possibly to learn to distinguish between verity and nullity and implicity to give my adhesion to the former without altogether accepting as true what I did not understand. So I analysed, investigated and observed, but I found that all those people only held before me traditional notions. Each landed his faith and reviled that of others. It was, therefore, evident to me that their conclusions rested on mere imagination and that they did not speak with impartiality. In none did I find such fairness and integrity that reasonable people could accept their dicta and declare themselves satisfied with them. When I perceived this it was impossible for me to follow any one of the religions and recognised that if I put faith in one of them of which I knew nothing I should fare like the betrayed believer in the following story.
[Sidenote: Anecdote of the credulous burglar.]
Once upon a time a thief set out at night and along with his companions got up on to the roof of the house of a man of opulence. As they entered they awoke the owner who noticed them and perceived that at that hour they were on the roof with evil intent. He awoke his wife and gently said to her, "I see that up on the top of our roof there are thieves. I will pretend to sleep, wake me up in a voice loud enough to be heard by those on the roof and say to me, 'My husband, do tell me how you came by so much wealth and property.' When I make no reply whatever ask me very pressingly again." The woman accordingly asked him as she was ordered so that the house-breakers heard it all. The man replied, "My wife, luck has led you to great prosperity, so eat and drink, keep quiet and do not ask about it, because if I told it to you, some one would easily hear it and get something by it, which neither of us would like." She, however, persisted, "But my husband, do tell me, surely there is no one here to overhear us." "Well then, I will tell you that I have acquired all this wealth and goods by theft." "How did you manage it, when in the eye of the people you are still irreproachably honest and no one suspects you?" "By means of an artifice in the science of thieving: it is so handy and easy that no one can have any suspicion whatever." "How so?" "I used to manage this way: On a moonlight night I would go out with my companions, get up to the roof of the house of the person I wanted to rob as far as the sky light through which the moon shone and then uttered seven times the charm Sholam Sholam Sholam. I would then embrace the rays and slide down into the house without any body noticing my intrusion. Then at the other extremity of the moon-beams I again would seven times repeat the magic word and all the money and treasures in the house became visible to me. I could take of them whatever I would. Once more I would embrace the beams and rehearsing again seven times the magic word mount up to my companions and load them with all I had. Next we stole away unscathed."
When the robbers overheard this they rejoiced exceedingly and said: "In this house we have got a spoil which is more valuable to us than the gold which we can get there; we have acquired a means by which God delivers us from fear and we are secure against the authorities." So they watched for a long time and when they had made sure that the master of the house and his wife had gone to sleep the leader of the robbers stepped up to the spot where the light streamed through the hole, spoke Sholam Sholam seven times, clasped the rays with the intention of dropping down along them and fell head foremost on the floor. The husband sprang to his feet with a club and thrashed him to a jelly asking him, "Who are you?" And he replied, "The deceived believer: this is the fruit of blind faith."
[Sidenote: More religious investigation and more despair.]
[Sidenote: A dilemma.]
Accordingly, after I had grown sufficiently circumspect not to credit what might probably lead to my perdition, I started again investigating religions to discover the true one. But I again found no reply whenever I put questions to any one and when a doctrine was propounded to me I found nothing which in my judgment merited belief or served me as a guiding principle. Then I said, "The most reasonable course is to cling to the religion in which I found my fathers." Yet when I sought justification for this course I found none and said to myself, "If that be justification then the sorcerer also had one who found his progenitors to be wizards." And I thought of the man who ate indecently and when he was rebuked for it he excused himself by saying that his ancestors used to feed in the same gross way. Since, therefore, it was impossible for me to keep to the religion of my forbears and since I could find no justification for it, I desired once more earnestly to bestir myself and most carefully to examine the various religions and to consider minutely what they had to offer us. But then suddenly the idea struck me that the end was near and that the world would presently come to a close for me. Thereupon I pondered as follows:—
[Sidenote: Meditation of despair.]
Perhaps the hour of my departure has already arrived before I could wring my hands. My deeds were once still such that I could hope they were meritorious. Now perhaps the prolonged hesitation over my search and investigation would turn me away from the good deeds which I practised formerly, so that my end would not be such as I strove for, and owing to my wavering and vacillation the fate of the man in the following anecdote would overtake me.
[Sidenote: An anecdote: fatal hesitation.]
A certain man had a love affair with a married woman. She had made for him a subterraneous passage opening into the street and its entrance was constructed close by a water jar. This she did for fear lest her husband or some one else should surprise her. Now one day when her paramour was with her word was brought that the husband was standing at the door. The lover hastened to get behind the jar but it had been removed by some one so he came to the woman and said, "I went to the passage but the jar of which you spoke was not there." To which the woman, said "You fool, what have you got to do with the jar? I mentioned it to point to you the way to the passage." "I could not be sure, since the jar was not near the passage, you should not have spoken of it to me and misled me." "Now save yourself, enough of your stupidity and hesitation." "But how shall I go since you spoke to me of the jar and even now confuse me?" Thus he remained there till the master of the house came up and seized hold of and belaboured him, and handed him over to the authorities.
[Sidenote: Burzoe follows good principles common to all creeds.]
[Sidenote: The properties of righteousness.]
Since I was apprehensive of the risks of shilly-shallying I resolved not to expose myself to the danger and to confine myself entirely to such works as all men regard as benevolent and which are consonant with all the religions. I refrained, therefore, from assault, murder and robbery, and guarded myself against incontinence and my tongue from falsehood and all utterance calculated to harm any one, avoided the smallest deception, indecency of language, falsehood, calumny and ridicule and took pains that my heart wished ill of no one and that I did not disbelieve in resurrection and retribution and punishment in the next world. I turned away my mind from wickedness and adhered energetically to good, perceived that there is no better associate or friend than righteousness and that it is easy to acquire it with the help of God. I found that it has more tender solicitude for us than father and mother that it leads to good and gives true counsel like one friend to another, that use does not diminish but rather multiplies it, and that when employed it does not wear out, but is constantly renewed, and becomes more beautiful; that we need not fear that the authorities will snatch it from us, the enemy will rob or miscreants disfigure it, or water drown or fire will consume it, wild beasts attack it or that any thing untoward will happen to it. He who contemns righteousness and its consequences in the next world and permits himself to be seduced from it by a fraction of the sweets of this passing world, he who passes his days with things which do not permit piety to approach him, fares as did to my knowledge the merchant in the following story.
[Sidenote: The careless Jeweller.]
A merchant had many precious stones. To bore a hole through them he hired a man for a hundred pieces of gold a day and went with him to his house. As soon however, as he set to work, there was a lute and the workman turned his eyes towards it. And upon the merchant questioning him whether he could play upon it he replied, "Yes, right well." For he was indeed proficient in the art. "Then take it" said the merchant. He therefore took it and played for the merchant the whole day beautiful melodies in proper tune so that the jeweller left the caset with the precious stones in it and filled with joy kept time, nodding his head and waving his hand. In the evening he said to the jeweller, "Let me have my wages," And when the latter said, "Have you done anything to deserve the wage?" he replied, "You have hired me and I have done what you ordered me to do." So he pressed him till he received his hundred pieces without any deduction, while the gems remained unbored.
[Sidenote: Aversion to pleasures of the world: Buddhistic pessimism.]
The more I reflected upon the world and its joys the deeper grew my aversion towards them. Then I made up my mind entirely to devote myself to the life of the blessed and the anchorite. For I saw that asceticism is a garden the hedge of which keeps off at a distance eternal evils, and the door through which man attains to everlasting felicity. And I found that a divine tranquility comes over the ascetic when he is absorbed in meditation; for he is still, contented, unambitious, satisfied, free from cares, has renounced the world, has escaped from evils, is devoid of greed, is pure, independent, protected against sorrow, above jealousy, manifests pure love, has abandoned all that is transitory, has acquired perfect understanding, has seen the recompense of the next world, is secure against remorse, fears no man, does none any harm and remains himself unmolested. And the more I pondered over asceticism the more I yearned for it so that at last I earnestly thought of becoming an ascetic.
[Sidenote: The trials of an anchorite: the greedy dog.]
But then apprehension came upon me that I should not be able to support the life of a hermit and that the ordinary way in which I had grown up would prove an hindrance. I was not sure that, should I renounce the world and adopt asceticism, I should not prove too feeble for it. Moreover, should I give up such good works as I had previously performed in the hope of salvation, I should be in the position of the dog who with the bone in his mouth was going along a river. He saw his reflection in the water, suddenly dashed forward to seize it and consequently let fall what he had in the mouth without securing what he wanted to get. So I grew uneasy regarding the recluse's life and was afraid lest I should fail to bear it and thought therefore rather to continue the career of my life.
[Sidenote: Worldly Monastic life.]
[Sidenote: A series of similes.]
However, it occurred to me to compare the discomforts and straits of monasticism, which I feared I should be unable to support, with the wants of those who remain in the world. Then it became clear to me that all the joys and pleasures of the world turn to discomforts and bring sorrow. For the world is like salt water. The more one drinks of it the more thirsty one becomes; like a bone found by a dog on which he still sniffs the flavour of flesh, he bites to get at it but only to tear the flesh of his teeth and make his mouth bleed and the more he struggles the more he makes it bleed; like the vulture that has found a piece of flesh, it attracts other birds in a flock so that for a long time it is in trouble and flies till at last, quite exhausted, it drops its prey; like a pot filled with honey and with poison at the bottom, he who eats of it has a short enjoyment but at last death by venom; like a dream which rejoices the sleeper who finds when he awakes his joy vanished; like lightning that brings brilliance for a moment but quickly disappears, he who builds his hope upon it abides in darkness; like the silk worm the more it spins itself into the silk the more impossible it finds to come out.
[Sidenote: More internal struggle.]
After I had pondered thus I once more proposed to my soul to elect asceticism and had yearning for it. Nevertheless I opposed it with: It will not do that I should seek refuge from the world in asceticism when I think of the evils of the world and then again seek refuge in the world from asceticism when I consider the privations and discomforts of the latter. I continued in a state of prolonged vacillation without firm determination like the Kazi of Merv who at first heard one party and decided in his favour and against the other and then heard the other and gave judgment in favour of the latter as against the first. And when again I reflected upon the frightful discomforts and straits of monasticism I said, How trifling it is all in comparison with eternal peace. And then once more thinking of the joys of the world I exclaimed, How bitter and pernicious they are which lead to perpetual perdition and its horrors; how can a man not regard as sweet the little bitterness which is succeeded by sweet that endures and how can a man not regard as bitter a bit of sweet that ends in greater and abiding bitterness? If it was offered to a man that he should live a hundred years but that every day he should be hacked to pieces and should be called to life again the following day and so on, provided that at the close of the century he should be delivered from the torture and pain and be in security and delight, he would account as nothing the whole years. How can a man then not bear the few days of asceticism, the inconveniences of which are succeeded by much that is beautiful? And we know that the entire world bears privation and torment and that man from his origin as foetus till the end of his days is subject to one suffering after another. Moreover, we find the following in books of medicine.
[Sidenote: Man in embryo: his torments till and after death.]
[Sidenote: Tribulations of human existence.]
When the liquid, of which the perfect child is to be built, enters the uterus of the woman, and mixes itself with her liquid substance and her blood it becomes thick and pulpy. Next the liquid is stirred by a wind and becomes like sour milk and later on hard like curdled milk. After a certain number of days the individual members become separate. If it is a man child its face is turned to the back of the mother; if it is a female it is turned towards the belly. In the foetus the hands are on the cheeks and the chin is on the knee. It is all bundled up in the foetus as if it was thrust into a pouch. It breathes through a narrow opening. Each member is bound by a chord. Above it is the heat and the pressure of the mother's womb; below are darkness and constriction. It is tied with a piece of its navel to that of its mother, sucks through it and lives upon her food and drink. In this position it remains in gloom and confinement till the day of birth. When that day comes a wind acquires control of the womb, that child acquires strength to rise, turns the head towards the opening and experiences in this confinement the pain of one forced into a distressing torture. Should it fall to the ground or be touched only by a breath of wind or should it come in contact with one's hands it feels greater pain, than a person that is flayed alive. The new born babe then suffers all manner of torment. When it is hungry it cannot ask for food; thirsty, for drink; when in pain it cannot call for help. Besides it is lifted up, laid down, wrapped up, swathed, washed and rubbed. When it is laid to sleep on the back it cannot turn. Again so long as it is given the suck it is subjected to all manner of other tortures. When it is finally delivered from these, it is liable to those of education and has then to suffer a great deal, the brusqueness of the teacher, the unpleasantness of the instruction, the disgust at writing. Next he has his rich portion of medicine, diet, aches and illnesses. When he has outgrown these, he is troubled with wife, child and property and is pulled about by covetuous ambition and is exposed to the peril of longing and desires. All this while he is menaced by his four internal enemies, gall, blood, bile and wind; and furthermore, mortal poison, snakes that bite, animals of prey and reptiles, the alternation of heat and cold, rain and storm as well as finally the various plagues of age, if at all he survives those. But should he have nothing to fear from all this and were he secure with regard to these calamities, when he thinks of the moment when death must come and he musk give up the world, what a miserable plight is his, at the thought of the hour he has to separate himself from family, friends, and relations and all that is precious on the earth, and when he reflects that there is in store for him after death fearful horrors? Then must he be considered of feeble intellect, neglectful and a suitor for misfortune should he do nothing for his soul, should he not employ all art in behalf of the soul, and should he not renounce altogether the pleasures and errors of the world which till then had seduced him.
[Sidenote: Eulogy of the reigning Monarch.]
[Sidenote: Fallen on evil days.]
[Sidenote: How the world's misery outweighs its joys.]
But this holds especially good of modern times which have become worn out and fragile, which appear pure but are turbid. God has given the king good fortune and success. He is equally circumspect, mighty, magnanimous, profound examiner, upright, humane, liberal, a lover of truth, grateful, of broad comprehension, mindful of right and duty, indefatigable, strenuous, with insight, helpful, serene of mind, intelligent, thoughtful, gentle, sympathetic, kind, one who knows man and things, friend of learning and the learned, of the good and of benevolent people, but severe to the oppressor, not timid, nor backward, dexterous in granting in abundance to his subjects what they desire and averting from them what they do not like. Yet we see that our days are retrogressive in every way. It is as if man were divested of truth, as if that should be absent which one sadly misses and as if the harmful were there, as if the good were withering and the evil flourishing, as if the sinners were proceeding with a smile and the righteous receding in tears; as if knowledge was entombed and irrationality propagated, as if wretched intent was spreading and nobility of thought restricted; as if love was cut off and malice and hatred had become favourites; as if rectitude were divested of prosperity which had betaken itself to the malefactor; as if craftiness were awake and truth were asleep; as if mendacity were fruitful and veracity was left in the cold; as if those in power held before them the duty to act according to their own inclinations and to violate law, as if the oppressed were in dejection and made way for the tyrant; as if greediness on all sides had opened its jaws and swallowed all that was far and near; as if there was no trace left of contentment; as if the wicked had exalted themselves to Heaven and had made the good sink into the ground; as if nobility of mind were thrown from the loftiest pinnacle to most abysmal depths, as if turpitude were in honour and authority and as if sovereignty had been transferred from the exalted to the mean—in fact as if the world in the fullness of its joy were crying, "I have concealed the good and brought the evil to light." When, however, I reflected on the world and its condition and on the fact that man, although he is the noblest and foremost of creatures in it, is still in spite of his eminent position, subject to one misery after another and that this is his notorious peculiarity so that whoever has even a tittle of reason must be convinced that a human being is unable to help himself and to exert for his salvation,—this greatly astonished me, as further consideration told me that he is debarred from salvation only because of the small miserable enjoyments of smell, taste, sight, hearing and feeling of which he may receive a fraction or enjoy a particle but which is insignificant being so transient. He is, however, so much taken up with it that on its account he does not trouble himself for the salvation of his soul.
Then I looked for a similitude for this behaviour of human beings and found the following:
A certain person was fleeing from a danger into a well and suspended himself by clinging to two branches which grew on its edge, his feet striking against something which supported them. When he looked round there were four serpents which were projecting their heads from their holes. As he looked into the bottom of the well he noticed a dragon with its jaws open expecting him to fall his prey. And as he turned his head up to the branches he observed at their roots a black and a white mouse which were ceaselessly gnawing at both. While he was contemplating the situation and casting about for a means of escape he descried near him a hollow with bees that had made some honey. This he tasted and he was so much absorbed in its deliciousness that he no more thought of the condition he was in and that he must devise some contrivance of escape. He became oblivious of the fact that his feet rested against four serpents and that he did not know which would attack him first, forgot that the two mice were without cessation nibbling at the boughs by which he was hanging, and that as soon as they had gnawed them through he would drop into the jaws of the dragon. And so in his heedlessness he yielded to the enjoyment of the meed till he perished.
I compared the well with the world which is brimful of all manner of harm and terrible perils, the four snakes with the four humours which constitute the physical basis of man, but which, should they be excited, prove mortal poison; the branches to life, the black and white mice to night and day which in perpetual alternation consume our lifetime; the dragon with death inevitable; the honey to the particle of joy which man derives from his senses of smell, taste, sight, hearing and feeling, but which makes him oblivious of himself and all his circumstances and decoy away from the path to emancipation. So circumstanced I found myself, and endeavoured to conduct myself with as much rectitude as possible in the hope once again to experience a time when I should acquire a guide for myself and help for my cause. I remained in this stage till I returned from India to my homeland after I had made a copy of this book and a few more.
APPENDIX IV
THE TRIAL OF AFSHIN..
A DISGUISED ZOROASTRIAN GENERAL.
[Afshin was a Zoroastrian at heart. His trial and condemnation are referred to by Browne, Literary History of Persia. I take the account direct from Tabari. It is to be found also in Ibn Athir and Ibn Khaldun. The legal procedure reveals prominently the condition under which professed non-Moslems lived—religious liberty was granted to them. Note that it was possible to chastise ecclesiastical officers like Imams and Muezzins because of their interference with the religious practices of non-Moslems. Observe the part played by a Mobed at a criminal trial conducted according to Muhammadan usages. The Zoroastrian priest, who subsequently embraced Islam, comes forward to give evidence against the most puissant but covert co-religionist of his times.]
It has been related by Harun son of Isa, son of Mansur as follows:—I was present in the house of Muatisim and there were there Ahmad bin Ali Dawud and Ishaq bin Ibrahim son of Masab and Muhammad bin Abdal Maliq al Zayyad. They then brought Afshin who was yet not in rigorous imprisonment, and there were present people who were prepared to cause Afshin to shed tears. There was nobody in the house belonging to any high position except the sons of Mansur, for, the people had left. Those present were Muhammad bin Abdal Maliq al Zayyad and there were Mazyar, the ruler of Tabaristan, the Mobed, and the Marzban son of Urkesh, one of the chieftains of Sughd, and two people from among the Sughdians. Then Muhammad Ibn Abdal Maliq called the two people whose clothes were torn and asked them how they were. They then uncovered their backs which were torn of the flesh. Muhammad turning to Afshin asked "Do you know these?" "Yes, this man is the Mauzzin and this, one is the Imam who made a mosque at Ashrushana, and I struck each of them a thousand lashes, and that was because there was a covenant between myself and the kings of Sughd including a clause to the effect that I should leave each community to its own religion. But these two people attacked a shrine which had images in it, a shrine which was at Ashrushna, and they took out the images and turned the shrine into a mosque. I therefore struck them one thousand lashes for this transgression of theirs."
Then Muhammad asked Afshin, "What is the book which you have got which you have adorned with gold and gems and brocade? Its contents are impious with reference to God?" Afshin replied, "This is a book which I have inherited from my father and it contains the manners of the Persians, and as regards the impiety to which you refer I take advantage of the book in so far as the manners are concerned and I leave all the rest. And I found it bejewelled and as there was no occasion for me to take off the gems I left it as it was just as you have left with yourself the book Kalileh and Dimneh and the Book of Mazdak in your house. For I don't think the book would make me lose my Islam."
Then came forward the Mobed and referring to Afshin said, "This man is used to eating animals that have been strangled and he suggested the eating of it to me alleging that the flesh was more fresh than the flesh of slaughtered animals. And he used to kill a black goat every Wednesday and tearing it up with his sword he would pass through the two halves, and he would then eat the flesh. And one day he told me, 'I have entered this community [Islam] with reference to every detail of theirs which I hate so that I have eaten of olive oil, have ridden on camels, have put on the Arabian shoes, but although I have gone to this extent I have not in any way been injured and no harm has come to me: nor have I had myself circumcised.'"
Then Afshin said "Let me know as regards this man who is speaking these words whether he is a staunch believer in his own religion." Now the Mobed was a Magian who subsequently received Islam at the instance of the Khalif Mutawakkil and repented of his previous belief. They replied, "No."
Afshin then said, "What is the meaning of your adducing the evidence of a man who is not firm in his own faith?" Then turning to the Mobed Afshin said, "Was there between your house and my house any door or any hole through which you could look at me and learn my movements?"
"No," said the Mobed.
Afshin then asked, "Was I not then introducing you into my private affairs and informing you regarding my Persian nationality and my inclination towards it and towards the people of the race?"
"Yes," said the Mobed.
Said Afshin, "Now you are not firm in your own religion, and you are not faithful to your promise when you have revealed the secret confided by me to you."
Then the Mobed withdrew and the Marzban turned up. Afshin was asked whether he knew him, and said "No."
Then the Marzban was asked whether he knew Afshin and said "Yes. This is
Afshin."
Afshin was then told that this was the Marzban and the Marzban turning to Afshin said; "Oh cutthroat, why do you prevaricate and shuffle?"
Afshin said, "Oh you long-bearded one, what are you talking?"
The Marzban said "How do people under your jurisdiction address you when they write to you?"
Afshin replied; "Just in the way they used to write to my father and grandfather."
"Then tell us the way."
"No, I won't."
"Do not the people of Ashrushna write to you in such and such a way?"
"Now, does this not mean in Arabic, 'to the high God from his slave so and so?'"
[Ibn Khaldun is here clearer than Tabari. The term used was Khoday which in Persian meant Lord, applicable equally to God and any high dignitary. The original 'Pahlavi' title of the Shahnameh was Khodaynameh.]
"Yes."
Muhammad Ibn Abdal Maliq asked upon this, "Do they tolerate such a thing? For what greater blasphemy would be left to Pharaoh to commit who suggested to his people 'I am your God the Highest.'?"
Afshin replied, "This was the custom of the people in my father's and grandfather's times and it was also the custom with me before I embraced Islam. And then I did not like that I should lower myself before them. For then I should have lost their allegiance and the obedience that they owed me."
Upon this Ishaq Ibn Ibrahim Ibn Musab said, "Fie, fie on you, Hyder."
[Afshin is sometimes referred to as Hyder.]
Then turned up Mazyar the chief of Tabaristan and Afshin was asked whether he knew him. He said "No."
Mazyar was asked if he knew Afshin.
Then they told him that this was Mazyar.
"Yes, I know him now."
"Did you ever have correspondence with him? No."
Then turning to the Marzban they asked, "Did he ever write to you?"
"Yes," said Mazyar, "His brother Khash used to write to my brother Quhyar to the effect that this splendid religion of theirs will have help from nobody except himself, Quhyar and Babak."
[In the sequel Tabari relates how when Afshin's house was searched, after he was starved to death, among other incriminating articles a book was discovered sumptuously bound and bedecked with gems which related, to the old faith of Iran.]
APPENDIX V
NOELDEKE'S INTRODUCTION TO TABARI.
[The Arabs have long been credited with maintaining learning and civilisation in general when Europe was slumbering in its dark ages. History as a science was rarely known even to the gifted Hindus. The Arabs cultivated it with peculiar enthusiasm. Wustenfeld has collected the lives of 590 historians, the first of whom died in the year 50, and the last was born in 1061 A.H. But it is now proved beyond all doubt that many of these writers were Persians who employed the Arabic language and that the art of Arab annalists had its root in the archives of the Sasanians. We owe this discovery to Goldziher and Von Kremmer in the first instance, and to Brockelmann, Browne, Blochet and Huart who have done ample justice to the Iranian element in Arab culture. One of the best of these histories is by Tabari. Noeldeke translated in 1879, the portion relating to the Sasanians into German, and added footnotes to his translation, which are a mine of information on pre-Moslem Persia. The introduction which he wrote to his translation is equally valuable especially for the light it throws on the sources of Firdausi. The following is a translation of that German introduction by Noeldeke.
Tabari was a most prolific author and is reported to have written daily forty sheets for forty years. He was of pure Iranian descent G.K.N.]
[Sidenote: Tabari's method.]
Abu Jafar Muhammed bin Jarir born in the winter of 839 at Amul not far from the Caspian Sea in the Persian Province of Tabaristan, hence called Tabari, and who died in Baghdad on the 17th February 923, wrote many, partly very large, works in the Arabic language, among them an extremely voluminous chronicle, which reaches from the creation down to nearly the close of his life. Tabari, mainly occupied with theological tradition, was no man of original research or of historical acumen even in the sense applied to a few other Persian scholars in those centuries. His annals are a compilation, a mass of rich material put together with extraordinary industry. He does not work into unity the various versions in his divergent sources, but simply brings them up in order one after another. But it is just this circumstance which considerably enhances in our eyes the value of the work; for in this way the older reports themselves are preserved more faithfully than if the chronicler had laboured to reconcile them one with the other.
[Sidenote: Abounds in extracts from Arab and Iranian predecessors, but does not mention his sources.]
The principal value of Tabari's compilation consists in the extremely exhaustive presentation of the history of Islam from the first appearance of the Prophet; no other Arabic work in this respect can compare with his. The pre-Islamic history comprises, may be, a twentieth portion of the whole work and gives a very groat deal of what we would rather be without. Of the highest moment, however, is the tolerably detailed section on the history of the Sasanides and their times embodied in it, and whose German translation forms the text of our book. This section goes back partly to good Arabic records and mostly, at least mediately, to very important ancient Persian sources. But the stories from the mythological and historical traditions which appear scattered in Tabari in proceeding sections have a cognate origin. If the criticism of the sources is here very much facilitated on the one hand, because these orientals where they excerpt love to adhere, as far as possible, to the letter of their models or sources, it is on the other, rendered difficult because Tabari does not mention his immediate authorities. Only in reports of theological interest, to which the whole of the history of the growth of Islam belongs, he proceeds to indicate his sources with precision; otherwise he cites at the best an old authority come down to him only obliquely, and in most cases none at all. Throughout the Persian history he never names an authority, barring Hisham, whom he quotes here and there and who was an acknowledged authority in another province of tradition.
[Sidenote: Story of Persia based on indigenous original work.]
[Sidenote: Occasional identity of Firdausi and Tabari.]
The story of Persia from the first mythical Kings to the last of the Sasanides exhibits in Tabari, as in allied Arabic works, a certain similarity of conception and presentation which leads to the assumption of an indigenous original work at least respecting a very large portion. Now the Shahnameh of the great poet Firdausi, a national epic of the kind which no other people possess, while it on one hand, apart from the poetic license indulged in by Firdausi, contains much that is either not found at all or is essentially differently related in Arab writers; on the other, considerably accords with those Arab annalists in the order, in the whole structure, and in the details of the narrative. Indeed the poet often reproduces almost the identical phraseology of the historian. But now since according to both tradition and internal grounds Firdausi's bases were not Arabic books, the coincidence must be explained from a common ultimate source. The original work has been reflected to us in Tabari and other Arabs as well as Firdausi through a series of intermediate texts. To judge by the express statements and suggestions as also by various features in style and phraseology and further by all that we are aware of touching the circumstances of the literature we can say with certainty that, that original work like all other Persian narrative productions of the Sasanides and of the period of Arab conquest was composed in the written, language of this period, the Pahlavi. The most important connected presentment of Persian history in Pahlavi to which our reports go back is no doubt the Khoday Nameh, i.e., the "Book of Lords" a title which answers to the subsequent Shah Nameh or "Book of Kings."
Hamza mentions that name. The prose introduction to Ferdausi says that the "Book of Kings" was written first of all at the instance of Khushrau I Anoshirwan, but that the complete story was compiled only under Yazdegerd III by the Dihkan Danishwar. This work which it would not be too bold to identify with the Koday Nameh began with the primeval king, Gayomarth, and reached down to the termination of the reign of Khushrau II, surnamed Parwez. Although this introduction to Ferdausi dates but from the fifteenth century, and as for details is disfigured by inaccuracies and fictions, I attach weight to what it indicates respecting the time of its composition. In fact the concord of the narrative in the various sources reaches down to the death of Parwez and then abruptly ceases; while there are no vestiges to demonstrate that the completion of the original work was brought about subsequent to the victory of the Arabs. And the legitimistic nature of the story Is especially in keeping with the times when usurpation and insurrections of all sorts had run their course, and when the people looked forward with, the inauguration of the rule of the youthful grandson, of Parwez, who was crowned at the sacred place where the dynasty took its rise, to an era of prosperity to the ancient monarchy,—a hope which was fearfully crushed with the loss of the battle of Kadisiya towards the close of 637. Again the replies made by the imprisoned king which have been reproduced in different sources suit the times of the Yezegerd who descended from Khusrau II and not Sheroe, Khusrau's brilliant career despite its shady side strongly contrasted with the period ushered in by the patricide. A small piece of writing which depicts the first stormy years of Khusrau's domination in a romantic fashion seems to have arisen about the same time.
I am less certain about the name Danishwar. It was probably an adjective signifying "possessed of knowledge." It was easy for anyone who knew from Firdausi that the landed nobility called the Dihkan constituted the peculiar custodians of national lore to name a "learned Dihkan" as the collector of the stones of kings.
The compilation prepared at the time had undoubtedly drawn upon written documents without which It would have been impossible to give minute particulars of a long by-gone past. Besides the brief notices communicated by the Syrian Sergius to Agathias from the Basilika apomnemoneiumata are in the main in unison with our Arabo-Persian stories. Thus then in Khushro's time there existed a general survey of the history of Persia more or less in an official version. But otherwise there is no need to lay stress on the mention of Khushrau here, for all manner of things beneficial and good are ascribed to this king.
[Sidenote: Nature of the Khoday Nameh.]
The book of kings contains, as we said, the story of Persia from the creation of the world to the fall of the last purely national domination. It made no distinction between wholly mythical, semi-fabulous, and fully historical dynasts, so that the Arabs and Persians who drew upon it never suspected that e.g., Hoshang and Rustam are not such historical persons as Shahpur I and Bahram Chobin. But in the material itself we notice a conspicuous difference. The mythical tales which in their crude nascent forms were already there at the period of the Avesta were in course of time richly developed and under the Sasanides were no doubt universally known. To these were joined ecclesiastical speculation and traditions concerning the genesis of the world, civilisation and the legislation of Zoroaster. There were also several genealogical trees. In all these at the most a few proper names were historical. Of the empires of the Medes and of Persians proper this tradition had no knowledge. It is doubtful if it contained even quite a feeble reflex of the last days of the Achaeminides. On to this ancient autochthonous tradition was immediately joined the story of the last Darius and Alexander emanating from a foreign source, the Greek romance of Alexander. Not more than a few names was all that was preserved of the long period covering the Macedonian and the Parthian supremacy. With the Sasanides the national reminiscences became clearer. Round the founder of the dynasty were accreted, on the one hand, legends wholly fabulous and on the other, such as embodied excellent historical data. But the latter seem to be inadequately represented in the main work, the Khodayname. Again very few particulars were known of the reigns of the succeeding sovereigns down to Yezdegerd I. In the chapters which correspond to those of the old Book of Kings just this want of actual information, it seems, the compilers strove to veil behind rhetorical accounts of scenes of homage done to the rulers, imperial speeches from the throne, etc. For the following ages on there was, in general, good, partly very authentic information. But this entire presentment did not concern itself solely with veracity. The Iranians who from very remote antiquity extravagantly lauded truth, had in reality never any great sense of it. The Khoday Nameh and kindred productions were unfairly biassed and rhetorical. The ornamental and figurative ingredients are indicated even by the Arabic reproductions, though the latter are greatly condensed. A classic testimony to it has been kindly communicated to me by Baron Von Rosen which is a passage from a Petersberg manuscript of Albayan Wattabyin of Jahiz in which the Shuubiya or the Persians, who, though Muslims placed their nation above the Arabs say: "And he who is interested in reason, fine culture, knowledge of ranks, examples and penalties, in elegant expressions and superlative thoughts, let him cast a glance at the History (more properly the Vitae) of Kings." History of the Kings, Siyar-ul Muluk, is the title of the Arabic rendering of the Book of Kings in Pahlavi. Compare likewise Hamza's remarks on the works on Persian history. I have laboured to show the partiality of the Persian tradition in the footnotes. The narrative is conceived in a monarchical and legitimistic spirit, but equally all along from the view point of the superior nobility and the clergy. Add to this the exertions to cry up as much as possible the glory of Persia which sometimes produces a strange effect. Moreover, there must have been no lack of contradictions as to facts as well as respecting estimates of personal character which was inevitable owing to the employment of varying sources. Nevertheless a work like this written under the Sasanides and familiar with the state of things obtaining in the empire and more or less of an official nature, must have been an admirable fount of history. There was hardly ever a better presentment of the story of this house than the Khoday-Nameh.
[I have translated the entire passage from the since printed text. See p. 170.—G.K.N.]
Since, barring the small book treating of Ardeshir's adventures, no original Pahlavi document in the domain of historical or romantic literature has descended to us and even the Arabic recensions made directly from the original general history in Pahlavi have perished, we are altogether left in uncertainty touching many most important points. We cannot, for instance, ascertain whether alongside of the Khoday-Nameh there existed also other general continuous narrations or whether the deviations, which are for the most part trifling, in some cases of great moment, already existed in the Pahlavi work or are traceable to various recensions of that book. It would not be rash, to assume that some copies of the work contained additional matter taken from other Pahlavi books like the Romance of Bahram. Bahram the high priest of the city of Shapur collected, according to Hamza, more than 20 manuscripts of the Khoday-Nameh and from their divergence made out another independent recension. Musa Ibn Isa Kesravi complains of the variants in the copies of the work; the latter author who speaks of defects in translation has in view only the Arabic redactions. The text, however, of Tabari, at all events and more so a comparison of Tabari and other Arabs with one another and with Firdausi exhibits that entire sections of the History of Kings were already in the Pahlavi original in essentially different shapes. Otherwise, it would not be possible, for instance, that where Tabari offers two different versions, one should harmonise with Eutychius and Ibn Kotaiba (derived from the translation of Ibn Mukaffa) and the other should agree with the Arab Yakubi and often with Firdausi, who goes back to the Pahlavi text not directly but mediately through compositions in modern Persian. It is very important for a knowledge of the history that thus we have at our command all manner of dissonant reports about the Sasanide epoch. But we have to observe all the same that the character and the tendency of the several versions are almost all along consistent and further more that often we have more recensions than one which differ but little and which have one and the same ground-work or prototype. The question whether this difference is older or younger than the Khoday-Nameh has more literary than historical significance.
[Sidenote: Translation of Khoday-Nameh into Arabic. Its general fidelity to the original.]
[Sidenote: The Arabic translation may be pieced together from various sources.]
We should decide all this with much more certainty did we possess but one direct rendering made from the Pahlavi into Arabic. Above all we have to deplore the loss of Ibn Mukaffa's history of Persian Kings which is always assigned the first place among translations of the Persian Book of Kings by Hamza and other authorities. This distinguished man who only late in life exchanged the faith of his forbears for that of Islam, and who never professed the latter with over much zeal, translated a series of Pahlavi writings into Arabic including the Khoday-Nameh. He was a courtier, and passed for a good Arabic poet and one of the best rhetorical writers of his time. The famous Wazir Ibn Mukla counted him among "the ten most eloquent men." He must consequently have striven to suit his rendering of the book of Persian kings to the taste of his contemporaries. But we have no sufficient grounds to assume that he introduced arbitrary and material alterations into his translations or even that he greatly elaborated the rhetorical passages of the original text or invested them with an altogether different garb. Such a suspicion is contradicted by the coincidences with other sources which, like Firdausi, are independent of him. There is little probability of Ibn Mukaffa's work being again brought to light in its entirety. But on the other hand, it will indeed be possible to gather together in course of time more and more stray passages belonging to the book; though it is to be feared, unfortunately that these fragments will prove more to be preserved as efforts of rhetoric than because of their intrinsic value. A few extracts of this nature we find in Ibn Kotaiba's Oyun-al Akhbar. Among these citations which I owe to the goodness of Rosen, there is one tolerably long on the death of Peroz. Now the same fragment, little curtailed, is in the chronicle of Said bin Batrik or Eutychius, the patriarch of Alexandria. We should, therefore, be inclined from the first to derive other information in Eutychius on the Sasanides from Ibn Mukaffa. And our predisposition is supported by the circumstance that the history of the dynasty as given in a manual by the same Ibn Kotaiba and which is styled Kitab al Maarif, brief as it is, betrays as in the instance of the reign of Peroz, all through such an harmony with Eutychius that here two independent authors must necessarily have drawn upon one and the same original; and that original source can be no other than the production of Ibn Mukaffa. The abstract in Eutychius is very unequal being in some parts exhaustive, in others much abridged. The narrations as preserved in Tabari, which correspond to the statements in Eutychius and Ibn Kotaiba and which consequently go back to Ibn Mukaffa, are of a similar nature though Tabari gives in addition other parallel reports. Tabari, however, did not himself use Ibn Mukaffa's work, but for the History of Persia, among other authorities, employed by preference a younger work which represented another version together with excerts from the former. This can be inferred from the fact that the anonymous Codex Sprengers 30, which and Tabari are mutually independent, shows quite the same combination of two main sources and so far as the section in question goes, can be utilised and treated as a new manuscript of Tabari. Both have relied almost to the letter upon the presentment which emanated partly from Ibn Mukaffa and partly from another translator with the only difference that the anonymous writer is oftener more concise than Tabari. Again the version which does not proceed from Ibn Mukaffa is for the most part in accord with the epitome of the story of the Sasanides in the introduction to Yakubi's History of the Abbasides; there the excellent author occasionally subjoins extraneous information. More often than not this presentment is in touch with Ferdausi. I am unable to aver from whom has originated this other recension of the story of the Sasanides. We know indeed the names of a number of persons who redacted the History of Persia, originally in Pahlavi, for Arab readers. But though we can collect a few notices of some of the authors mentioned, we know nothing in particular about them and are completely in the dark about the special nature of their work. All that we can postulate as established is that they wrote posterior to Ibn Mukaffa. The latter is always mentioned in the first place. Muhammad bin Jahm who is regularly cited next after him and bears the surname of Bermaki, was a client of the Barmecides, who came to power a long while after the death of Ibn Mukaffa. Ifc may be supposed that they all laid under contribution the production of their celebrated predecessor. How they individually set about their work, whether perhaps some of them tapped non-Persian tradition; also, how far one or other of them utilized the novels of which there were probably many in Pahlavi—this we are no longer in a position to determine. Again this too remains a mystery whence Tabari came by most of the accounts touching the Persians, which are conspicuous by their absence in the anonymous Codex. To clear this whole ground it would appear to be expedient in the first place to set apart all that for which Ibn Mukaffa directly or indirectly is responsible. This I have done in the footnotes but an advance is possible in this direction. On the other hand, we must keep Ferdausi steadily before our eyes. Whatever in Tabari and other Chroniclers does not issue from Ibn Mukaffa and is not represented in Ferdausi likewise merits special study.
[Sidenote: Direct Sources of Ferdausi.]
[Sidenote: The Persian prose Shahname was not derived from Arabic but
Pahlavi.]
A superficial reading of Firdausi would engender the view that he obtained his material partly from Pahlavi books direct and partly from the oral communication of competent renconteurs. That this is only a deceptive illusion we conclude at once from his strong resemblance not only in the main features but also in the details and the order, with Arab writers some of whom were much anterior to him. Firdausi positively knew no Pahlavi and as for Arabic he knew next to nothing. He did employ written sources preponderatingly if not exclusively and these were in modern Persian. His principal authority was, according to the introduction mentioned above, a translation of the old Book of Kings which was prepared by Abu Mansur bin Abdar Razzak bin Abdullah bin Ferrukh. So far our information is surely trustworthy. For, Biruni testifies to a Shahname by Abu Mansur bin Abdar Razzak of Tus. According to the introduction, this man was a minister of Yakub bin Laith Saffar, who was commissioned with the work which he accomplished through a certain Sund bin Mansur Mamari with the help of four competent people from Khorasan and Sagistan in 360 A.H. The chronological impossibility involved in the figure is removed by Mohl who emends it to 260. Yakub ibn Laith got a foothold in Khorasan in 253 A.H. and reigned till 265. Still this report involves much that is incorrect. That the uncouth warrior Yakub who was perpetually camping in the battle fields should have possessed a sense for such a literary undertaking is extremely improbable, though not altogether inconceivable. May be, he was actuated by a political design, but Abu Mansur bin Abdar Razzak did not live under Yakub but flourished two or three generations later. For he is either a brother of Muhammad bin Abdar Razzak of Tus or Muhammad himself. The first surmise has the weight of greater likelihood in that the Strasburg manuscript calls him once Abu Mansur Ahmed and Muhammad had in fact a brother named Ahmed who participated in his political manouvres. Muhammad was the lord of Tus. We hear much about him—how he in the years A.D. 945-960 stood up now for the Samanides, his proper overlords, now for their powerful antagonist Ruknaddin, the Buide, whose capital lay in dangerous proximity to his territory. In those days when an enthusiasm for Modern Persian was strongly awakened the enterprize may most appropriately have been taken in hand. Immediately after the Princes of Khorasan planned to cast this prose work into poetry; and this task was first inaugurated by Dakiki for the Samanides and brought to conclusion by Ferdausi of Tus, countryman of Abu Mansur bin Abdar Razzak, for Mahamud of Ghazna. The name of the four people who executed the work for the son of Abdar Razzak are all genuinely Persian; which indicates that they were all adherents of the ancient religion and that they had actully a Pahlavi original before them. To transfer an Arabic version into Modern Persian would not have required four men. Moreover, Firdausi's poem occasionally betrays that his sources had not flowed to him through Arabic. Of those men one only is met with again, Shahzan son of Barzin. He is mentioned by Firdausi at the head of his account of the genesis of KALILA WA DIMNA: "Listen to what Shahzan, son of Barzin has said when he revealed the secret." Because this section is an episode which assuredly did not appear in the KHODAY-NAMEH, we may conclude that the prose Shahname on which this Shahzan collaborated, embodied all manner of similar episodes, though Firdausi may have taken several from elsewhere. It is an interesting circumstance that the potentate who had this work prepared by Abu Mansur bin Abdar Razzak, had inserted—so Biruni tell us—a fictitious genealogical tree in it which led up his ancestors to Minochihr. Such things were in those times very common among new men of Persian origin who attained power. We are compensated for the loss of this prose work by at least the epos of Ferdausi which has issued from it.
[Sidenote: Dinawari.]
As the most important of extant Arabic representations of the Khoday-Nameh and the cognate literature we must regard at any rate Tabari I have already touched upon Eutychius, Ibn Kotaiba, and Yakubi. Another old chronicler Abu Hanifa Ahmed bin Daud Dinawari greatly accords with Tabari but presents also much that is peculiar to himself. A closer examination would no doubt reveal that he draws considerably upon romances directly or indirectly and that he is not particularly accurate. Tabari reproduces the conflicting versions of the same incident separately one after another; Dinawari works them up into a single unified narrative.
[Sidenote: Hamza.]
The small book which Hamza Ispahani wrote in 961, contains in brief much independent information on the Sasanides. Hamza treats his materials in a spirit of much more freedom and independence than Tabari, but to us the compiling process of Tabari is far more convenient.
[Sidenote: Masudi.]
Masudi in his "Meadows of Gold" affords us many a supplement to Tabari's narratives derived from reliable Persian sources. But Masudi works very unequally, accepts a good deal that is suspicious provided only it is entertaining, and as regards detail he is by no means over exact.
As an historical authority, the Persian redaction of Tabari, so remarkable in many of its aspects, and achieved by Muhammad Belami or by others under his guidance, has but little value. I designate this work as "Persian Tabari" and have used it in the splendid Gotha manuscript and in Zotenberg's French translation. I have also consulted the Turkish version of Belami in a Gotha Manuscript.
[Sidenote: Tabari more valuable than Firdausi.]
All these writers and others present us collectively a tolerably rich and vivid portrait of Persian tradition of the Sasanide times. But the best comprehensive statement of the story of the Sasanides on the basis of this tradition is furnished us by Tabari, all his shortcomings notwithstanding and despite the pre-eminence which Firdausi's poem possesses as such.
[Sidenote: Ibn Kelbi.]
But in his narrative of this period Tabari had laid under contribution reports which were not of Persian origin. For the history of the Arab princes of Hira, which is so intimately related to that of the Persian empire, Tabari's chief authority was Hisham bin Muhammad called Ibn Kelbi a man who, like his father Muhammad bin Saib Kelbi before him, has rendered, however often modern criticism may take exception to the unscientific system of both the writers, the greatest service in connection with the collection of the scattered information on the history of ancient Arabs. We know of a few of the numerous writings, large and small, of Ibn Kelbi which are enumerated for us in the Fihrist and which probably are at the root of Tabari's chapters. It is quite possible that Tabari borrows many of the secondary sources of Ibn Kelbi. It is surprising that the latter is cited as an authority on the Persian history itself, on the reigns of Ardeshir, Peroz, Khosrau I, Harmizd IV, Khosrau II, and Yazdegerd III. We are not cognisant of any work of his on the History of Persia. But it may be conjectured that occasionally in his history of Arabia he supplied minuter details touching contemporary Persia. An amanuensis of his, Jabala bin Salim, is noticed in the Fihrist as one of the translators from Persian. Ho provided his master with material from Pahlavi books.
For the History of the Arabs of that period Tabari has used a variety of other sources, most prominent among them being Muhammad Ibn Ishak who is better known as the biographer of the prophet. In this section of Tabari's great work mediately or immediately a large amount of diverse information has been brought together.
It is certainly desirable and to be hoped that the criticism of the sources in this domain would make substantial progress. But the point of greatest moment even here is to test every incident or piece of information according to its origin and credibility as I have endeavoured to do in the footnotes.