Burton was now to make what proved to be his last expedition. All the year Egypt had been ablaze with the rebellion of Arabi Pasha. Alexandria was bombarded by the English on July 11th, Arabi suffered defeat at Tell-el-Kebir three months later. On the commencement of the rebellion the British Government sent out Burton's old friend Professor Palmer to the Sinaitic peninsula with a view to winning the tribes in that part of the British side, and so preventing the destruction of the Suez Canal. The expedition was atrociously planned, and the fatal mistake was also made of providing it with £3,000 in gold. Palmer landed at Jaffa at the end of June, and then set out via Gaza across the "Short Desert," for Suez, where he was joined by Captain Gill and Lieutenant Charrington. In fancy one hears him as he enters on his perilous journey asking himself that question, which was so absurdly frequent in his lips, "I wonder what will happen?"
It is customary for travellers, before entering the Arabian wastes, to hire a Ghafir, that is, a guide and protector. Palmer, instead of securing a powerful chief, as the case required, selected a man of small account named Matr Nassar, and this petty shaykh and his nephew were the expedition's only defence.
The doomed party left Suez on August 8th. On the 10th at midnight they were attacked by the Bedawin. "Palmer expostulated with his assassins; but all his sympathetic facility, his appeals to Arab honour and superstition, his threats, his denunciations, and the gift of eloquence which had so often prevailed with the wild men, were unheeded." As vainly, Matr Nassar 371 covered his proteges with his aba 372 thus making them part of his own family. On the evening of August 11th the captives were led to the high bank of the Wady Sudr, where it received another and smaller fiumara yet unnamed, and bidden to prepare for death. Boldly facing his enemies, Palmer cursed them 373 in Biblical language, and in the name of the Lord. But while the words were in his mouth, a bullet struck him and he fell. His companions also fell in cold blood, and the bodies of all three were thrown down the height 374—a piteous denouement—and one that has features in common with the tragic death scene of another heroic character of this drama—General Gordon.
The English Government still believed and hoped that Palmer has escaped; and on October 17th it sent a telegram to Burton bidding him go and assist in the search for his old friend.
Like the war horse in the Bible, the veteran traveller shouted "Aha!" and he shot across the Mediterranean like a projectile from a cannon. But he had no sooner reached Suez than he heard—his usual luck—that Sir Charles Warren, with 200 picked men, was scouring the peninsula, and that consequently his own services would not be required. In six weeks he was back again at Trieste and so ended Viator's 375 last expedition. The remains of Palmer and his two companions were discovered by Sir Charles and sent to England to be interred in St. Paul's Cathedral. To Palmer's merits as a man Burton paid glowing tributes; and he praised, too, Palmer's works, especially The Life of Harun Al Raschid and the translations of Hafiz, 376 Zoheir and the Koran. Of the last Mr. Stanley Lane-Poole says finely: It "has the true desert ring in it;.. the translator has carried us among the Bedawin tents, and breathed into us the strong air of the desert, till we fancy we can hear the rich voice of the Blessed Prophet himself as he spoke to the pilgrims on Akabah."
In his letter to Payne of 23rd December 1882, Burton adumbrates a visit eastward. "After January," he says, "I shall run to the Greek Islands, and pick up my forgotten modern Greek." He was unable, however, to carry out his plans in their entirety. On January 15th he thanks Payne for the loan of the "Uncastrated Villon," 377 and the Calcutta and Breslau editions of the Nights, and says "Your two vols. of Breslau and last proofs reached me yesterday. I had written to old Quaritch for a loan of the Breslau edition. He very sensibly replied by ignoring the loan and sending me a list of his prices. So then the thing dropped. What is the use of paying £3 odd for a work that would be perfectly useless to me.... But he waxes cannier every year."
In 1883 the Burtons removed from their eyrie near the Railway Station and took up their abode in a palazzone 378—"the Palazzo Gosleth"—situated in a large garden, on the wooded promontory that divides the city from the Bay of Muggia. It was one of the best houses in Trieste, and boasted an entrance so wide that one could have driven a carriage into the hall, a polished marble staircase and twenty large rooms commanding extensive and delightful views. The garden, however, was the principal amenity. Here, in fez and dressing-gown, Burton used to sit and write for hours with nothing to disturb him except the song of birds and the rustle of leaves. In the Palazzo Gosleth he spent the last eight years of his life, and wrote most of his later works.
Perhaps this is the best place to introduce a sheaf of miscellaneous unpublished anecdotes which have been drawn together from various sources. We are uncertain as to their dates, but all are authentic. To the ladies Burton was generally charming, but sometimes he behaved execrably. Once when he was returning alone to Trieste, a lady past her prime, being destined for the same place, asked whether she might accompany him. Burton, who hated taking care of anyone, frowned and shook his head. "There can be no scandal, Captain Burton," pleaded the lady, "because I am old."
"Madame," replied Burton, "while fully appreciating your kindness, I must decline. Had you been young and good-looking I would have considered the matter."
But Burton could be agreeable enough even to plain ladies when he wished. In one of his books or pamphlets he had said "There is no difference except civilization between a very old woman and an ape." Some time after its publication, when he was the guest of Mr. and Mrs. Disraeli, Mrs. Disraeli, herself both elderly and very plain, laid a plan to disconcert him. She seated herself close to a low mirror, in the hopes that Burton would presently join her. He soon fell into the trap and was observed a few minutes later leaning over her and "doing the amiable."
"Captain Burton," said Mrs. Disraeli, with affected annoyance, and pointing to her reflection, "There must be an ape in the glass. Do you not see it?"
Burton instantly recalled the remark in his book, but without exhibiting the least disconcertion, he replied, "Yaas, yaas, Madam, quite plainly; I see myself."
It was altogether impossible for Burton to do anything or to be in anything without causing a commotion of some kind. Generally it was his own fault, but sometimes the Fates were to blame. Few scenes at that period could have been more disgraceful than those at the official receptions held in London by the Prime Minister. Far too many persons were invited and numbers behaved more like untutored Zulus than civilised human beings.
"Now darling," said Mrs. Burton to her husband, just before one of these functions, "You are to be amiable, remember, and not lose your temper." Burton readily promised compliance, but that day, unfortunately, the crush on the staircase was particular disgraceful. Apparently Burton, his wife on arm, was pushed on to the train of a lady in front of him, but whatever he was doing the crush had rendered him helpless.
"Oh dear!" cried the lady, "this horrid man is choking me."
"It's that blackguard of a Burton!" followed the lady's husband.
Burton's eyes flashed and his lips went livid, "I'll have you out for this," he cried, "and if you won't fight I'll thrash you like a dog."
"That's how you keep your promise," said Mrs. Burton to him, when they got home. "You don't get half a dozen steps up the staircase before you have a row with someone." Then he burst out with his "pebble on ice" laughter.
For Burton to overhear remarks uncomplimentary to himself was no uncommon occurrence, but he rarely troubled to notice them. Now and again, however, as the previous anecdote shows, he broke his rule. Once at a public gathering a lady said, loudly, to a companion, "There is that infamous Captain Burton, I should like to know that he was down with some lingering and incurable illness."
Burton turned round, and fixing his eyes upon her, said with gravity: "Madame, I have never in all my life done anything so wicked as to express so shocking a wish as that."
The next anecdote shows how dangerous Burton could be to those who offended him. When the Sultan of Zanzibar was paying a visit to England, Burton and the Rev. Percy Badger were singled out to act as interpreters. But Burton had quarrelled with Badger about something or other; so when they approached the Sultan, Burton began addressing him, not in Arabic, but in the Zanzibar patois. The Sultan, after some conversation, turned to Badger, who, poor man, not being conversant with the patois, could only stand still in the dunce's cap which Burton, as it were, had clapped on him and look extremely foolish; while the bystanders nodded to each other and said, "Look at that fellow. He can't say two words. He's a fraud." Burton revelled in Badger's discomfiture; but a little later the two men were on good terms again; and when Badger died he was, of course, Burton's "late lamented friend."
Another of Burton's aversions was "any old woman made up to look very young." "Good gracious," he said, one day to a painted lady of that category. "You haven't changed since I saw you forty years ago. You're like the British flag that has braved a thousand years of the battle and the breeze." But the lady heaped coals of fire on his head.
"Oh, Captain Burton," she cried, "how could you, with that musical—that lovely voice of yours—make such very unpleasant remarks."
In England, whatever objections Protestants may make to Roman Catholic services, they admit that everything is done decently and in order. The laxity, however, in the Italian churches is, or was until recently, beyond belief, and every traveller brought home some queer tale. Mrs. Burton, who prided herself on being "an old English Catholic," was frequently distressed by these irregularities, and she never hesitated to reprove the offending priests. One day a priest who had called at Burton's house was requested to conduct a brief service in Mrs. Burton's private chapel. But the way in which he went through the various ceremonies so displeased Mrs. Burton that she called out to him, "Stop! stop! pardon me, I am an old English Catholic—and therefore particular. You are not doing it right—Stand aside, please, and let me show you." So the astonished priest stood aside, and Mrs. Burton went through all the gesticulations, genuflexions, etcetera, in the most approved style. Burton, who was standing by, regarded the scene with suppressed amusement. When all was over, he touched the priest on the shoulder and said gravely and slowly, pointing to Mrs. Burton: "Do you know who this is? It is my wife. And you know she will some day die—We all must die—And she will be judged—we must all be judged—and there's a very long and black list against her. But when the sentence is being pronounced she will jump up and say: 'Stop! stop! please pardon my interruption, but I am an old English Catholic.'"
To one house, the hostess of which was one of the most fashionable women in London, Burton, no matter how much pressed, had never been prevailed upon to go. He disliked the lady and that was enough. "Here's an invitation for all of us to Lady ——'s," said Mrs. Burton to him one day in honied tones. "Now, Dick, darling, this time you must go just for Lisa's sake. It's a shame she should lose so excellent a chance of going into good society. Other people go, why shouldn't we? Eh, darling?"
"What won't people do," growled Burton, "for the sake of a dinner!"
Eventually, however, after an explosion, and he'd be asterisked if he would, and might the lady herself be asterisked, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, "Dick Darling" was coaxed over, and he, Mrs. Burton and Lisa at the appointed time sallied forth in all the glory of war paint, and in due course were ushered into the detested house.
As he approached the hostess she looked steadily at him through her lorgnon, and then, turning to a companion, said with a drawl: "Isn't it horrid, my dear! Every Dick, Tom and Harry's here to-night."
"That's what comes of being amiable," said Burton to his wife, when they got home again—and he'd be asterisked, and might everybody else be asterisked, if he'd enter that asterisked house again. Then the humour of it all appealed to him; and his anger dissolved into the usual hearty laughter.
One very marked feature of Burton's character was that, like his father, he always endeavoured to do and say what he thought was right, quite regardless of appearances and consequences. And we may give one anecdote to illustrate our meaning.
On one occasion 379 he and another Englishman who was known by Burton to have degraded himself unspeakably, were the guests at a country house. "Allow me, Captain Burton," said the host, "to introduce you to the other principal guest of the evening, Mr. ——" Looking Mr. —— in the face, Burton said: "When I am in Persia I am a Persian, when in India a Hindu, but when in England I am an English gentleman," and then he turned his back on Mr. ——and left him. As Mr. ——'s record was not at the time generally known, those who were present at the scene merely shrugged their shoulders and said: "Only another of Burton's eccentricities." A few months, later, however, Mr. —-'s record received publicity, and Burton's conduct and words were understood.
One of Burton's lady relations being about to marry a gentleman who was not only needy but also brainless, somebody asked him what he thought of the bridegroom-elect.
"Not much," replied Burton, drily, "he has no furniture inside or out."
To "old maids" Burton was almost invariably cruel. He found something in them that roused all the most devilish rancours in his nature; and he used to tell them tales till the poor ladies did not know where to tuck their heads. When reproved afterwards by Mrs. Burton, he would say: "Yaas, yaas, no doubt; but they shouldn't be old maids; besides, it's no good telling the truth, for nobody ever believes you." He did, however, once refer complimentarily to a maiden lady—a certain Saint Apollonia who leaped into a fire prepared for her by the heathen Alexandrians. He called her "This admirable old maid." Her chief virtue in his eyes, however, seems to have been not her fidelity to her principles, but the fact that she got rid of herself, and so made one old maid fewer.
"What shall we do with our old maids?" he would ask, and then answer the question himself—"Oh, enlist them. With a little training they would make first-rate soldiers." He was also prejudiced against saints, and said of one, "I presume she was so called because of the enormity of her crimes."
Although Mrs. Burton often reproved her husband for his barbed and irritating remarks, her own tongue had, incontestibly, a very beautiful edge on it. Witness her reply to Mrs. X., who declared that when she met Burton she was inexpressibly shocked by his Chaucerian conversation and Canopic wit.
"I can quite believe," commented Mrs. Burton, sweetly, "that on occasions when no lady was present Richard's conversation might have been startling."
How tasteful is this anecdote, as they say in The Nights, "and how enjoyable and delectable."
As we have already observed, Mr. Payne's 500 copies of the Thousand Nights and a Night were promptly snapped up by the public and 1,500 persons had to endure disappointment. "You should at once," urged Burton, "bring out a new edition." "I have pledged myself," replied Mr. Payne, "not to reproduce the book in an unexpurgated form."
"Then," said Burton, "Let me publish a new edition in my own name and account to you for the profits—it seems a pity to lose these 1,500 subscribers." This was a most generous and kind-hearted, but, from a literary point of view, immoral proposition; and Mr. Payne at once rejected it, declaring that he could not be a party to a breach of faith with the subscribers in any shape or form. Mr. Payne's virtue was, pecuniarily and otherwise, its punishment. Still, he has had the pleasure of a clear conscience. Burton, however, being, as always, short of money, felt deeply for these 1,500 disappointed subscribers, who were holding out their nine-guinea cheques in vain; and he then said "Should you object to my making an entirely new translation?" To which, of course, Mr. Payne replied that he could have no objection whatever. Burton then set to work in earnest. This was in April, 1884. As we pointed out in Chapter xxii., Lady Burton's account of the inception and progress of the work and Burton's own story in the Translator's Foreword (which precedes his first volume) bristle with misstatements and inaccuracies. He evidently wished it to be thought that his work was well under weigh long before he had heard of Mr. Payne's undertaking, for he says, "At length in the spring of 1879 the tedious process of copying began and the book commenced to take finished form." Yet he told Mr. Payne in 1881 that beyond notes and a syllabus of titles nothing had been done; and in 1883 he says in a letter, "I find my translation is a mere summary," that is to say, of the Boulac edition, which was the only one familiar to him till he met Mr. Payne. He admits having made ample use of the three principal versions that preceded his, namely, those of Jonathan Scott, Lane and Payne, "the whole being blended by a callida junctura into a homogeneous mass." But as a matter of fact his obligations to Scott and Lane, both of whom left much of the Nights untranslated, and whose versions of it were extremely clumsy and incorrect, were infinitesimal; whereas, as we shall presently prove, practically the whole of Burton is founded on the whole of Payne. We trust, however, that it will continually be borne in mind that the warm friendship which existed between Burton and Payne was never for a moment interrupted. Each did the other services in different ways, and each for different reasons respected and honoured the other. In a letter to Mr. Payne of 12th August, 1884, Burton gave an idea of his plan. He says "I am going in for notes where they did not suit your scheme and shall make the book a perfect repertoire of Eastern knowledge in its most esoteric form." A paper on these subjects which Burton offered to the British Association was, we need scarcely say, courteously declined.
Writing to Payne on September 9th (1884) he says, "As you have been chary of notes my version must by way of raison d'etre (amongst others) abound in esoteric lore, such as female circumcision and excision, etc. I answer all my friends that reading it will be a liberal education, and assure them that with such a repertory of esotericism at their finger ends they will know all the Scibile 380 requisite to salvation. My conviction is that all the women in England will read it and half the men will cut me."
Although, as we have seen, Burton's service to Mr. Payne's translation was almost too slight to be mentioned, Burton was to Mr. Payne in another way a tower of strength. Professional spite, jealousy and other causes had ranged against his Nights whole platoons of men of more or less weight. Jealousy, folly and ignorance made common cause against the new translation—the most formidable coterie being the group of influential men who for various reasons made it their business to cry up the commonplace translation of E. W. Lane, published in 1840, and subsequently reprinted—a translation which bears to Payne's the relation of a glow-worm to the meridian sun. The clique at first prepared to make a professional attack on the work, but the appearance of Volume i. proved it to be from a literary, artistic and philological point of view quite unassailable. This tactic having failed, some of these gentlemen, in their meanness, and we fear we must add, malevolence, then tried to stir up the authorities to take action against Mr. Payne on the ground of public morality. 381 Burton had long been spoiling for a fight—and now was his opportunity. In season and out of season he defended Payne. He fell upon the Lane-ites like Samson upon the Philistines. He gloried in the hurly-burly. He wallowed, as it were, in blood. Fortunately, too, at that time he had friends in the Government—straightforward, commonsense men—who were above all pettinesses. Lord Houghton, F. F. Arbuthnot, and others, also ranged themselves on the same side and hit out manfully.
Before starting on the Palmer expedition, Burton, in a letter of October 29th, had written to Mr. Payne: "The more I read your translation the more I like it. You have no need to fear the Lane clique; that is to say, you can give them as good as they can give you. I am quite ready to justify the moral point. Of course we must not attack Lane till he is made the cheval de bataille against us. But peace and quiet are not in my way, and if they want a fight, they can have it." The battle was hot while it lasted, but it was soon over. The Lane-ites were cowed and gradually subsided into silence. Mr. Payne took the matter more coolly than Burton, but he, too, struck out when occasion required. For example, among the enemy was a certain reverend Professor of Semitic languages, who held advanced opinions on religious matters. He had fought a good fight, had suffered persecution on that account, and is honoured accordingly. "It is usual," observed Burton, "with the weak, after being persecuted to become persecutors." 382 Mr. ——- had the folly to put it about that Payne's translation was made not direct from the Arabic but from German translations. How he came to make so amazing a statement, seeing that at the time no important German translation of the Nights existed, 383 it is difficult to say; but Mr. Payne sent him the following words from the Nights, written in the Arabic character: "I and thou and the slanderer, there shall be for us an awful day and a place of standing up to judgment." 384 After this Mr. ——- sheathed his sword and the Villon Society heard no more of him.
Mr. Payne's first volume appeared as we have seen in 1882. The last left the press in 1884. The work was dedicated to Burton, who writes, "I cannot but feel proud that he has honoured me with the dedication of 'The Book of the Thousand Nights and one Night.' ...He succeeds admirably in the most difficult passages, and he often hits upon choice and special terms and the exact vernacular equivalent of the foreign word so happily and so picturesquely that all future translators must perforce use the same expression under pain of falling far short."
Having finished the Nights, Mr. Payne commenced the translation of other Eastern stories—which he published under the title of Tales from the Arabic. 385
* For further particulars respecting these works see Appendix.
If Payne's translation had been met by the wind, Burton anticipated that his own, with its blunt faithfulness to the original and its erotic notes, would be met by whirlwind. Considering the temper of the public 386 at the time he thought it not improbable that an action would be brought against him, and in fancy he perceived himself standing at bay with the Authorised Version of the Bible in one hand as a shield, and Urquhart's Rabelais in the other as a missile.
But though a man of amazing courage, Burton was not one to jeopardise himself unnecessarily. He was quite willing to take any reasonable precautions. So he discussed the matter with his friend F. F. Arbuthnot, who had recently returned from India, married, 387 and settled at a charming place, Upper House Court, near Guildford. Mr. Arbuthnot, who, as we have seen, had for years given his whole soul to Eastern literature, had already published a group of Hindu stories 388 and was projecting manuals of Persian 389 and Arabic 390 literature and a series of translations of famous Eastern works, some of which were purely erotic. He now suggested that this series and Burton's Arabian Nights should be published nominally by a society to which might be given the appropriate name, "The Kama Shastra"—that is the cupid-gospel—Society, Kama being the Hindu god of love. This deity is generally represented as a beautiful youth riding on an emerald-plumaged lorry or parrot. In his hand he holds a bow of flowers and five arrows—the five senses; and dancing girls attend him. His favourite resort is the country round Agra, where Krishna 391 the azure Hindu Apollo,
The books were to be translated by Rehatsek and a Hindu pundit named Bhagvanlal Indraji, Burton and Arbuthnot were to revise and annotate, and Arbuthnot was to find the money. Burton fell in with the idea, as did certain other members of Arbuthnot's circle, who had always been keenly interested in Orientalism, and so was formed the famous Kama Shastra Society. That none of the particulars relating to the history of the Society has before been made public, is explained by the fact that Burton and Arbuthnot, conversant with the temper of the public, took pains to shroud their proceedings in mystery. It cannot, however, be too strongly insisted upon that Arbuthnot's standpoint, like Burton's, was solely for the student. "He wished," he said, "to remove the scales from the eyes of Englishmen who are interested in Oriental literature." These erotic books in one form or another are in the hands of 200,000,000 of Orientals. Surely, argued Arbuthnot, a few genuine English students—a few, grave, bald-headed, spectacled, happily married old gentlemen—may read them without injury. 393 The modern student seeks his treasure everywhere, and cares not into what midden he may probe so long as he finds it. No writer on 18th century French History, for example, would nowadays make half apologies, as Carlyle did, for having read Casanova. Indeed, he would lay himself open to censure unless he admitted having studied it carefully. Still, every genuine and right-minded student regards it as a duty to keep books such as these, which are unsuited for the general public, under lock and key—just as the medical man treats his books of plates and other reference volumes. Then again it is entirely a mistake to suppose that the works issued or contemplated by the Kama Shastra Society were all of them erotic. Two out of the six actually done: The Beharistan and The Gulistan, and the whole of the nine still in manuscript, might, after a snip or two with the scissors, be read aloud in almost any company.
We have the first hint of the Kama Shastra Society in a letter to Payne, 5th August 1882. "I hope," says Burton, "you will not forget my friend, F. F. Arbuthnot, and benefit him by your advice about publishing when he applies to you for it. He has undertaken a peculiar branch of literature—the Hindu Erotic, which promises well." On Dec. 23th he writes: "My friend Arbuthnot writes to me that he purposes calling upon you. He has founded a society consisting of himself and myself." After further reference to the idea he adds, "I hope that you will enjoy it." A few days later Mr. Arbuthnot called on Mr. Payne. Mr. Payne did not "enjoy" the unfolding of the Kama Shastra scheme, he took no interest in it whatever; but, of course, he gave the information required as to cost of production; and both then and subsequently assisted in other matters of business. Moreover, to Mr. Arbuthnot himself, as a man of great personal charm, Mr. Payne became sincerely attached, and a friendship resulted that was severed only by death.
The arrangement about financing the books did not, of course, apply to The Arabian Nights. That was Burton's own affair; for its success was supposed to be assured from the first. Of the books other than The Arabian Nights published by the Kama Shastra Society—each of which purported, facetiously, to be printed at Behares, the name which Burton chose to give to Stoke Newington, we shall now give a brief account.
Several, we said, are erotic. But it should be clearly understood what is here meant by the term. The plays of Wycherley and other Caroline dramatists are erotic in a bad sense. We admit their literary qualities, but we cannot hide from ourselves the fact that they were written by libertines and that an attempt is made to render vice attractive. The injured husband, for example, is invariably ridiculed, the adulterer glorified. The Hindu books, on the other hand, were written by professedly religious men whose aim was "not to encourage chambering and wantonness, but simply and in all sincerity to prevent the separation of husband and wife"—not to make them a married couple look afield, but "to lead them to love each other more by understanding each other better." Vatsyayan and Kullianmull, 394 indeed, though they poetized the pleasures of the flesh, would have been horrified could they have read the plays of Wycherley and Etheridge. The erotic books that Arbuthnot wished to be translated were the following—all by Hindu poets more or less famous:—
Of these seven books two only were issued, namely the Kama Sutra and the Ananga Ranga or Lila Shastra. The precise share that Burton 395 had in them will never be known. It is sufficient to say that he had a share in both, and the second, according to the title page, was "translated from the Sanskrit and annotated by A. F. F. and B. F. R.," that is F. F. Arbuthnot and Richard Francis Bacon—the initials being purposely reversed.
When commencing upon The Kama Sutra, Indraji—for he was the actual translator—found his copy, which had been procured in Bombay, to be defective, so he wrote to Benares, Calcutta and Jeypoor for copies of the manuscripts preserved in the Sanskrit libraries of those places. These having been obtained and compared with each other, a revised copy of the entire work was compiled and from this Indraji made his translation. "This work," he says, "is not to be used merely as an instrument for satisfying our desires. A person acquainted with the true principles of this science, who preserved his Dharma (virtue or religious merit), his Artha (worldly wealth) and his Kama (pleasure, or sensual gratification), and who has regard to the customs of the people, is sure to obtain the mastery over his senses. In short, an intelligent and knowing person, attending to Dharma, and Artha and also to Kama, without becoming the slave of his passions, will obtain success in everything that he may do." According to Vatsyayana, Kama should be taught just as is taught—say, hygiene or political economy. "A man practising Dharma, Artha and Kama enjoys happiness both in this world and in the world to come." It must not be supposed that the work is entirely erotic. There are also directions for one's conduct at religious festivals, especially that in honour of Saraswati, 396 picnics, drinking parties and other social gatherings. Still, the erotic preponderates. The work is mainly a handbook on Love. One is informed respecting what women are or are not worthy of affection. There are full instructions respecting kissing, an art which is not so easy to learn as some persons think. Still, a man who could not kiss properly after reading the Kama Sutra would be a dullard indeed. Some of the remarks are quaint enough. Thus we are told that "nothing tends to increase love so much as the effects of marking with the nails 397 and biting." Some girls when asked in marriage are slow to make up their minds. With that situation there are, it seems, several ways of dealing. The simplest is the following: "When the girl goes to a garden, or to some village in the neigbourhood, the man should, with his friends, fall on her guards, and having killed them, or frightened them away, forcibly carry her off." Sometime it is the man who is shy. In such cases the girl "should bring him to her house under the pretence of seeing the fights of quails, cocks and rams, of hearing the maina (a kind of starling) talk.... she should also amuse him for a long time by telling him such stories and doing such things as he may take most delight in."
For Edwin and Angelina when they get married there is also much wholesome instruction. "The wife, whether she be a woman of noble family or a virgin widow re-married, 398 should lead a chaste life." "When the man sets out on a journey she should make him swear that he will return quickly. 399... When the man does return home she should worship the God Kama." Ladies will be interested to learn that there are twenty-seven artifices by which a woman can get money out of a man. One is "Praising his intelligence to his face." Then there are useful directions for the personal adornment of both sexes. "If the bone of a peacock or of a hyena be covered with gold and tied to the right hand, it makes a man lovely in the eyes of other people."
Of the essential portions of the book it is sufficient to say that they are similar to those of the other avowedly erotic Eastern works, the contents of the principal of which have been touched upon by Burton in the Terminal Essay to his Arabian Nights and in some of his notes. Finally we are told that the Kama Sutra was composed for the benefit of the world by Vatsyayana, while leading the life of a religious student, and wholly engaged in the contemplation of the Deity. At the same time, the teaching of this holy man amounts to very much the same as that of Maupassant, which is, to use Tolstoy's words, "that life consists in pleasures of which woman with her love is the chief, and in the double, again reflected delight of depicting this love and exciting it in others." 400
The work lets a flood of light on Hindu manners and customs; and it must be borne in mind that the translation was issued privately at a high price and intended only for "curious students." In the Preface, Burton and Arbuthnot observe that after a perusal of the Hindoo work the reader will understand the subject upon which it treats, "At all events from a materialistic, realistic and practical point of view. If all science is founded more or less on a stratum of facts, there can be no harm in making known to mankind generally certain matters intimately connected with their private, domestic and social life. Alas! complete ignorance of them has unfortunately wrecked many a man and many a woman, while a little knowledge of a subject generally ignored by the masses would have enabled numbers of people to understand many things which they believed to be quite incomprehensible, or which were not thought worthy of their consideration."
Writing to Payne, 15th January, 1883, Burton says, "Has Arbuthnot sent you his Vatsyayana? 401 He and I and the Printer have started a Hindu Kama Shastra (Ars Amoris Society). It will make the Brit(ish) Pub(lis) stare. Please encourage him." Later Arbuthnot, in reply to a question put to him by a friend, said that the Society consisted practically of himself, Sir Richard Burton and the late Lord Houghton. 402