Burton's health continuing weak, he again endeavoured to induce the Government to release him from his duties. Instead of that, they gave him what he calls "an informal sick certificate," and from the following letter to his sister (26th May 1888) we may judge that it was not given gracefully.
"Yesterday," he says, "I got my leave accompanied by some disagreeable expressions which will be of use to me when retiring. We leave Trieste in June and travel leisurely over the St. Gothard and expect to be in England about the 10th.... The meteorologists declare that the heat is going to equal the cold. Folky 554 folk are like their neighbours, poor devils who howl for excitement—want of anything better to do. The dreadful dull life of England accounts for many British madnesses. Do you think of the Crystal Palace this year? We have an old friend, Aird, formerly the Consul here, who has taken up his abode somewhere in Sydenham. I don't want cold water bandages, the prospect of leave makes me sleep quite well. With love and kisses to both, 555 Your affectionate brother, R. F. B."
Burton and his wife reached Folkestone on July 18th. Next day they went on to London, where they had the pleasure of meeting again Commander Cameron, Mr. Henry Irving, M. Du Chaillu, Mr. A. C. Swinburne, and Mr. Theodore Watts[-Dunton]. What Burton was to Mr. Swinburne is summed up in the phrase—"the light that on earth was he." 556
His principal place of resort, however, during this visit was the house of Mr. H. W. Ashbee, 54, Bedford Square, where he met not only Mr. Ashbee, but also Dr. Steingass, Mr. Arbuthnot, Sir Charles Wingfield and Mr. John Payne, all of whom were interested, in different ways, in matters Oriental. Ashbee, who wrote under the name of Pisanus Fraxi (Bee of an ash), was a curiously matter-of-fact, stoutish, stolid, affable man, with a Maupassantian taste for low life, its humours and laxities. He was familiar with it everywhere, from the sordid purlieus of Whitechapel to the bazaars of Tunis and Algiers, and related Haroun Al-Raschid-like adventures with imperturbably, impassive face, and in the language that a business man uses when recounting the common transactions of a day. This unconcernedness never failed to provoke laughter, even from those who administered rebukes to him. Of art and literature he had absolutely no idea, but he was an enthusiastic bibliophile, and his library, which included a unique collection or rare and curious books, had been built up at enormous expense. Somebody having described him as "not a bad old chap," Mr. Payne added characteristically, "And he had a favourite cat, which says something for him."
The serenity of these gatherings, whether at Mr. Ashbee's or at Mr. Arbuthnot's, was never ruffled unless somebody happened to introduce politics or the Shakespere-Bacon Question. Arbuthnot the Liberal was content to strike out with his back against the wall, so to speak, when attacked by the Conservative Burton, Ashbee and Payne; but Arbuthnot the Baconian frequently took the offensive. He would go out of his way in order to drag in this subject. He could not leave it out of his Life of Balzac even. These controversies generally resolved themselves into a duel between Mr. Arbuthnot and Mr. Payne—Burton, who loved a fight between any persons and for any reasons, looking on approvingly. Mr. Ashbee and Dr. Steingass were inclined to side with Mr. Payne. On one of these occasions Mr. Payne said impatiently that he could not understand "any sensible man taking the slightest interest in the sickening controversy," and then he pointed out one by one the elements that in his opinion made the Baconian theory ridiculous.
"But," followed Mr. Arbuthnot, "Shakespere had no education, and no person without an extremely good education could have written the play erroneously published under the name of William Shakespere."
"If," retorted Mr. Payne, "Shakespere had been without education, do you think the fact would have escaped the notice of such bitter and unscrupulous enemies as Nash, Greene, and others, who hated him for his towering superiority?"
Upon Mr. Arbuthnot admitting that he studies Shakespere merely from a "curio" point of view, and that for the poetry he cared nothing, Mr. Payne replied by quoting Schopenhauer: "A man who is insensible to poetry, be he who he may, must be a barbarian."
Burton, who regarded himself as a poet, approved of the sentiment; Dr. Steingass, who wrote execrable verses in English which neither rhymed nor scanned, though they were intended to do both, was no less satisfied; Mr. Ashbee, who looked at matters solely from a bibliographical point of view, dissented; and Mr. Arbuthnot sweetly changed the conversation to Balzac; with the result, however, of another tempest, for on this subject Burton, who summed up Balzac as "a great repertory of morbid anatomy," could never see eye to eye with Balzac's most enthusiastic English disciple.
At Oxford, Burton met Professor Sayce, and did more literary work "under great difficulties" at the Bodleian, though he escaped all the evil effects; but against its wretched accommodation for students and its antediluvian methods he never ceased to inveigh. Early in August he was at Ramsgate and had the amusement of mixing with a Bank Holiday crowd. But he was amazingly restless, and wanted to be continually in motion. No place pleased him more than a day or two.
Among the deal tables in Burton's rooms at Trieste was one devoted to a work on the Gypsies, a race concerning whom, as we have seen, he had long been curious. He had first proposed to himself to write on the subject when he was in Sind, where he had made investigations concerning the affinity between the Jats and the Gypsies; and now with abundance of leisure he set about the work in earnest. But it was never finished, and the fragment which was published in 1898 557 contains, Mr. Watts-Dunton 558 assures me, many errors. Burton's idea was to describe the Gypsy in all lands. Perhaps he is happiest in his account of the Spanish Gypsy woman. "Their women," he says, "sell poultry and old rags.... and find in interpreting dreams, in philter selling, and in fortune-telling the most lucrative industries. They sing, and play various instruments, accompanying the music with the most voluptuous and licentious dances and attitudes; but woe to the man who would obtain from these Bayaderes any boon beyond their provocative exhibition. From the Indus to Gibraltar, the contrast of obscenity in language and in songs with corporal chastity has ever been a distinctive characteristic.... Gypsy marriages, like those of the high caste Hindus, entail ruinous expense; the revelry lasts three days, the 'Gentile' is freely invited, and the profusion of meats and drinks often makes the bridgegroom a debtor for life. The Spanish Gypsies are remarkable for beauty in early youth; for magnificent eyes and hair, regular features, light and well-knit figures. Their locks, like the Hindus, are lamp black, and without a sign of wave: 559 and they preserve the characteristic eye. I have often remarked its fixity and brilliance, which flashes like phosphoric light, the gleam which in some eyes denotes madness. I have also noticed the 'far-off look' which seems to gaze at something beyond you and the alternation from the fixed stare to a glazing or filming of the pupil." 560
This peculiarity of the gypsy's eyes, Burton had himself, for which reason alone, some writers, as we have already observed, have claimed him for the tribe. But he shared other peculiarities with them. For example, there was his extraordinary restlessness—a restlessness which prevented him from every settling long in any one place. Then, like the gypsies, he had an intense horror of a corpse—even of pictures of corpses. Though brave to temerity he avoided churchyards, and feared "the phosphorescence of the dead." Many of his letters testify to his keen interest in the race. For example, he tells Mr. J. Pincherle, author of a Romani version of Solomon's Song, 561 the whole story of his wife and Hagar Burton. In 1888 he joined the newly-founded "Gypsy Lore Society," and in a letter to Mr. David MacRitchie (13th May 1888) he says in reference to the Society's Journal: "Very glad to see that you write 'Gypsy.' I would not subscribe to 'Gipsy.'" In later letters he expresses his appreciation of Mr. MacRitchie's article "The Gypsies of India," and wishes the Society "God speed," while in that of 13th August 1888, he laments the trifling results that followed his own and Arbuthnot's efforts in behalf of Orientalism. "We [The Gypsy Lore Society]" he says, "must advance slowly and depend for success upon our work pleasing the public. Of course, all of us must do our best to secure new members, and by Xmas I hope that we shall find ourselves on the right road. Mr. Pincherle writes to me hopefully about his practical studies of Gypsy life in Trieste. As regards Orientalism in England generally I simply despair of it. Every year the study is more wanted and we do less. It is the same with anthropology, so cultivated in France, so stolidly neglected in England. I am perfectly ashamed of our wretched "Institution" in Hanover Square when compared with the palace in Paris. However, this must come to an end some day."
On 13th August 1888, Burton writes to Mr. A. G. Ellis from "The Langham," Portland Place, and sends him the Preface to the last Supplemental Volume with the request that he would run his eye over it. "You live," he continues, "in a magazine of learning where references are so easy, and to us outsiders so difficult. Excuse this practical proof that need has no law." On September 26th he sent a short note to Mr. Payne. "Arbuthnot," he said, "will be in town on Tuesday October 2nd. What do you say to meeting him at the Langham 7 p.m. table d'hote hour?.... It will be our last chance of meeting."
Sir Richard and Lady Burton, Dr. Baker, Arbuthnot, and Payne dined together on the evening appointed; and on October 15th Burton left London, to which he was never to return alive.
The translation of the Supplemental Nights, that is to say, the collection of more or less interesting Arabian tales not included in the Nights proper, was now completed. The first volume had appeared in 1886, the last was to be issued in 1888. Although containing old favourites such as "Alaeddin," "Zayn Al Asnam," "Ali Baba," and the "Story of the Three Princes," the supplemental volumes are altogether inferior to the Nights proper. Then, too, many of the tales are mere variants of the versions in the more important work. Burton's first two supplemental volumes are from the Breslau text, and, as we said, cover the same ground as Mr. Payne's Tales from the Arabic. In both he followed Mr. Payne closely, as will be seen from his notes (such as "Here I follow Mr. Payne, who has skilfully fine-drawn the holes in the original text") 562 which, frequent as they are, should have been multiplied one hundred-fold to express anything like the real obligation he owed to Mr. Payne's translation. "I am amazed," he once said to Mr. Payne, "at the way in which you have accomplished what I (in common with Lane and other Arabists) considered an impossibility in the elucidation and general re-creation from chaos of the incredibly corrupt and garbled Breslau Text. I confess that I could not have made it out without your previous version. It is astonishing how you men of books get to the bottom of things which are sealed to men of practical experience like me." And he expressed himself similarly at other times. Of course, the secret was the literary faculty and intuition which in Burton were wanting.
Burton's Third Volume 563 consists of the tales in Galland's edition which are not in the Nights proper. All of them, with the exception of "Alaeddin" and "Zayn Al Asnam," are reproductions, as we said, from a Hindustani translation of the French text—the Arabic originals of the tales being still (1905) undiscovered.
His Fourth and Fifth Volumes 564 are from the Wortley-Montague Text. His sixth and last 565 contains the Chavis and Cazotte Text—the manuscript of which is reputed to have been brought to France by a Syrian priest named Shawish (Frenchlifted into Chavis), who collaborated with a French litterateur named Cazotte. The work appeared in 1788. "These tales," says Mr. Payne, "seem to me very inferior, in style, conduct, and diction, to those of 'the old Arabian Nights,' whilst I think 'Chavis and Cazotte's continuation' utterly unworthy of republication whether in part or 'in its entirety.' It is evident that Shawish (who was an adventurer of more than doubtful character) must in many instances have utterly misled his French coadjutor (who had no knowledge of Arabic), as to the meaning of the original."—Preface to Alaeddin, &c., xv., note. Mr. Payne adds, "I confess I think the tales, even in the original Arabic, little better than rubbish, and am indeed inclined to believe they must have been, at least in part, manufactured by Shawish." 566
Burton's supplementary volume containing "Alaeddin" and "Zayn Al Asnam," appeared, as we have seen, in 1887; and in 1889 Mr. Payne issued a Translation from Zotenberg's text. When dealing with the Nights proper we gave the reader an opportunity of comparing Burton's translation with Payne's which preceded it. We now purpose placing in juxtaposition two passages from their supplemental volumes, and we cannot do better than choose from either "Alaeddin" or "Zayn Al Asnam," as in the case of both the order is reversed, Burton's translation having preceded Payne's. Let us decide on the latter. Any passage would do, but we will take that describing the finding of the ninth image:567
Here, again, Payne is concise and literal, Burton diffuse and gratuitously paraphrastic as appears above and everywhere, and the other remarks which we made when dealing with the Nights proper also apply, except, of course, that in this instance Burton had not Payne's version to refer to, with the consequence that in these two tales ("Alaeddin" and "Zayn Al Asnam") there are over five hundred places in which the two translators differ as to the rendering, although they worked from the same MS. copy, that of M. Houdas, lent by him to Burton and afterwards to Payne. Arabists tell us that in practically every instance Payne is right, Burton wrong. The truth is that, while in colloquial Arabic Burton was perfect, in literary Arabic he was far to seek, 568 whereas Mr. Payne had studied the subject carefully and deeply for years. But Burton's weakness here is not surprising. A Frenchman might speak excellent English, and yet find some difficulty in translating into French a play of Shakespeare or an essay of Macaulay. Burton made the mistake of studying too many things. He attempted too much.
But in the Supplemental Nights, as in the Nights proper, his great feature is the annotating. Again we have a work within a work, and the value of these notes is recognised on all sides. Yet they are even less necessary for elucidating the text than those in the Nights proper. Take for example the tremendous note in Vol. i. on the word "eunuchs." As everybody knows what a eunuch is, the text is perfectly clear. Yet what a mass of curious knowledge he presents to us! If it be urged that the bulk of Burton's notes, both to the Nights proper and the Supplemental Nights, are out of place in a work of this kind—all we can say is "There they are." We must remember, too, that he had absolutely no other means of publishing them.
As we learn from a letter to Mr. Payne, 8th November 1888, Burton began his "new version" of The Scented Garden, or as it is sometimes called, The Perfumed Garden, in real earnest early in that month, and Lady Burton tells us that it "occupied him seriously only six actual months," 569 that is, the last six months of his life.
The Scented Garden, or to give its full title, "The Scented Garden for the Soul's Recreation" was the work of a learned Arab Shaykh and physician named Nafzawi, who was born at Nafzawa, a white, 570 palm-encinctured town which gleamed by the shore of the Sebkha—that is, salt marsh—Shot al Jarid; and spent most of his life in Tunis. The date of his birth is unrecorded, but The Scented Garden seems to have been written in 1431. 571 Nafzawi, like Vatsyayana, from whose book he sometimes borrows, is credited with having been an intensely religious man, but his book abounds in erotic tales seasoned to such an extent as would have put to the blush even the not very sensitive "Tincker of Turvey." 572 It abounds in medical learning, 573 is avowedly an aphrodisiac, and was intended, if one may borrow an expression from Juvenal, "to revive the fire in nuptial cinders." 574 Moslems read it, just as they took ambergrised coffee, and for the same reason. Nafzawi, indeed, is the very antithesis of the English Sir Thomas Browne, with his well-known passage in the Religio Medici, 575 commencing "I could be content that we might procreate like trees." Holding that no natural action of a man is more degrading than another, Nafzawi could never think of amatory pleasures without ejaculating "Glory be to God," or some such phrase. But "Moslems," says Burton, "who do their best to countermine the ascetic idea inherent in Christianity, 576 are not ashamed of the sensual appetite, but rather the reverse." 577 Nafzawi, indeed, praises Allah for amorous pleasures just as other writers have exhausted the vocabulary in gratitude for a loaded fruit tree or an iridescent sunset. His mind runs on the houris promised to the faithful after death, and he says that these pleasures are "part of the delights of paradise awarded by Allah as a foretaste of what is waiting for us, namely delights a thousand times superior, and above which only the sight of the Benevolent is to be placed." We who anticipate walls of jasper and streets of gold ought not, perhaps, to be too severe on the Tunisian. It must also be added that Nafzawi had a pretty gift of humour. 578
The origin of the book was as follows: A small work, The Torch of the World, 579 dealing with "The Mysteries of Generation," and written by Nafzawi, had come into the hands of the Vizier of the Sultan of Tunis. Thereupon the Vizier sent for the author and received him "most honourably." Seeing Nafzawi blush, he said, "You need not be ashamed; everything you have said is true; no one need be shocked at your words. Moreover, you are not the first who has treated of this matter; and I swear by Allah that it is necessary to know this book. It is only the shameless boor and the enemy of all science who will not read it, or who will make fun of it. But there are sundry things which you will have to treat about yet." And he mentioned other subjects, chiefly of a medical character.
"Oh, my master," replied Nafzawi, "all you have said here is not difficult to do, if it is the pleasure of Allah on high."
"I forthwith," comments Nafzawi, "went to work with the composition of this book, imploring the assistance of Allah (May He pour His blessing on the prophet) 580 and may happiness and pity be with him."
The most complete text of The Scented Garden is that now preserved in the library at Algiers, and there are also manuscripts in the libraries of Paris, Gotha and Copenhagen. In 1850 a manuscript which seems to have corresponded practically with The Torch of the World was translated into French by a Staff Officer of the French Army in Algeria, and an edition of thirty-five copies was printed by an autographic process in Algiers in the year 1876. 581 In 1886 an edition of 220 copies was issued by the French publisher Isidore Liseux, and the same year appeared a translation of Liseux's work bearing the imprint of the Kama Shastra Society. This is the book that Burton calls "my old version," 582 which, of course, proves that he had some share in it. 583
There is no doubt that the average Englishman 584 would be both amazed and shocked on first opening even the Kama Shastra Society's version; unless, perchance, he had been prepared by reading Burton's Arabian Nights or the Fiftieth Chapter of Gibbon's Decline and Fall with the Latin Notes, though even these give but a feeble idea of the fleshiness of The Scented Garden. Indeed, as Ammianus Marcellinus, referring to the Arabs, says: "Incredible est quo ardore apud eos in venerem uterque solvitur sexus."
Nafzawi divided his book into twenty one-chapters "in order to make it easier reading for the taleb (student)." It consists of descriptions of "Praiseworthy Men" and "Praiseworthy Women" from a Nafzawin point of view, interpretations of dreams, medical recipes for impotence, &c., lists of aphrodisiacs, and stories confirmatory of Ammianus's remark. Among the longer tales are those of Moseilma, "Bahloul 585 and Hamdonna," and "The Negro Al Dhurgham" 586—all furiously Fescinnine. The story of Moseilema, Lord of Yamama, is familiar in one form or another to most students of Arab History. Washington Irving epitomises it in his inexpressibly beautiful "Successors" of Mahomet 587 and Gibbon 588 tells it more fully, partly in his text and partly in his Latin footnotes. Moseilema was, no doubt, for some years quite as influential a prophet as his rival Mohammed. He may even have been as good a man, 589 but Nafzawi—staunch Mohammedan—will not let "the Whig dogs have the best of the argument." He charges Moseilema with having perverted sundry chapters in the Koran by his lies and impostures, and declares that he did worse than fail when he attempted to imitate Mohammed's miracles. "Now Moseilema (whom may Allah curse!), when he put his luckless hand on the head of some one who had not much hair, the man was at once quite bald... and when he laid his hand upon the head of an infant, saying, 'Live a hundred years,' the infant died within an hour." As a matter of fact, however, Moseilema was one of the most romantic figures in Arabic history. 590 Sedja, Queen and Prophetess, went to see him in much the same spirit that the Queen of Sheba visited Solomon. Moseilema, who outlived Mohammed about a year, was defeated and slain near his capital Yamama, by the Mohammedan hero Khalid, and Sedjah subsequently embraced Islamism.
In the tale entitled "Djoaidi and Fadehat el Djemal" 591 appears that hoary poet, philosopher and reprobate, Abu Nowas 592 of The Arabian Nights. Like the Nights, The Scented Garden has a cycle of tales illustrative of the cunning and malice of women. But all the women in those days and countries were not bad, just as all were not plain. Plumpness seems to have been the principal attraction of sex, and the Kama Shastra version goes so far as to assure us that a woman who had a double chin, 593 was irresistible. If so, there were probably no words in the language good enough to describe a woman with three chins. According, however, to the author of the recent Paris translation 594 this particular rendering is a mistake. He considers that the idea Nafzawi wished to convey was the tower-like form of the neck, 595 but in any circumstances the denizens of The Scented Garden placed plumpness in the forefront of the virtues; which proves, of course, the negroid origin of at any rate some of the stories, 596 for a true Arab values slenderness. Over and over again in the Nights we are told of some seductive lady that she was straight and tall with a shape like the letter Alif or a willow wand. The perfect woman, according to Mafzawi, perfumes herself with scents, uses ithmid 597 (antimony) for her toilet, and cleans her teeth with bark of the walnut tree. There are chapters on sterility, long lists of the kind to be found in Rabelais, and solemn warnings against excess, chiefly on account of its resulting in weakness of sight, with other "observations useful for men and women."
While chapters i. to xx. concern almost entirely the relations between the opposite sexes, Chapter xxi. 598 which constitutes more than one-half of the book, treats largely of those unspeakable vices which as St. Paul and St. Jude show, and the pages of Petronius and other ancient authors prove, were so common in the pagan world, and which, as Burton and other travellers inform us, are still practised in the East.
"The style and language in which the Perfumed Garden is written are," says the writer of the Foreword to the Paris edition of 1904, "of the simplest and most unpretentious kind, rising occasionally to a very high degree of eloquence, resembling, to some extent, that of the famous Thousand Nights and a Night; but, while the latter abounds in Egyptian colloquialisms, the former frequently causes the translator to pause owing to the recurrence of North African idioms and the occasional use of Berber or Kabyle words, not generally known." In short, the literary merits or the work are trifling.
Although Nafzawi wrote his extended Scented Garden for scholars only, he seems afterwards to have become alarmed, and to have gone in fear lest it might get into the hands of the ignorant and do harm. So he ended it with:
It was in the autumn of 1888, as we have seen, that Sir Richard Burton, who considered the book to take, from a linguistic and ethnological point of view, a very high rank, conceived the idea of making a new translation, to be furnished with annotations of a most elaborate nature. He called it at first, with his fondness for rhyming jingle, The Scented Garden-Site for Heart's Delight, and finally decided upon The Scented Garden—Man's Heart to Gladden. Sir Richard's Translation was from the Algiers manuscript, a copy of which was made for him at a cost of eighty pounds, by M. O. Houdas, Professor at the Ecole des Langues Orientales Vivantes. This was of the first twenty chapters. Whether a copy of the 21st Chapter ever reached Sir Richard we have not been able to ascertain. On 31st March 1890, he wrote in his Journal: "Began, or rather resumed, Scented Garden," 600 and thenceforward he worked at it sedulously. Now and again the Berber or Kabyle words with which the manuscript was sprinkled gave him trouble, and from time to time he submitted his difficulties to M. Fagnan, "the erudite compiler of the Catalogue of Arabic books and MSS. in the Bibliotheque Nationale d'Alger" and other Algerian correspondents. Lady Burton describes her husband's work as "a translation from Arabic manuscripts very difficult to get in the original" with "copious notes and explanations" of Burton's own—the result, indeed, of a lifetime of research. "The first two chapters were a raw translation of the works of Numa Numantius 601 without any annotations at all, or comments of any kind on Richard's part, and twenty chapters, translations of Shaykh el Nafzawi from Arabic. In fact, it was all translation, except the annotations on the Arabic work." 602 Thus Burton really translated only Chapters i. to xx., or one-half of the work. But it is evident from his remarks on the last day of his life that he considered the work finished with the exception of the pumice-polishing; and from this, one judges that he was never able to obtain a copy of the 21st Chapter. Lady Burton's statement and this assumption are corroborated by a conversation which the writer had with Mr. John Payne in the autumn of 1904. "Burton," said Mr. Payne, "told me again and again that in his eyes the unpardonable defect of the Arabic text of The Scented Garden was that it altogether omitted the subject upon which he had for some years bestowed special study." If Burton had been acquainted with the Arabic text of the 21st Chapter he, of course, would not have made that complaint; still, as his letters show, he was aware that such a manuscript existed. Having complained to Mr. Payne in the way referred to respecting the contents of The Scented Garden, Burton continued, "Consequently, I have applied myself to remedy this defect by collecting all manner of tales and of learned material of Arab origin bearing on my special study, and I have been so successful that I have thus trebled the original manuscript." Thus, as in the case of The Arabian Nights, the annotations were to have no particular connection with the text. Quite two-thirds of these notes consisted of matter of this sort.
Mr. Payne protested again and again against the whole scheme, and on the score that Burton had given the world quite enough of this kind of information in the Nights. But the latter could not see with his friend. He insisted on the enormous anthropological and historical importance of these notes—and that the world would be the loser were he to withold them; in fact, his whole mind was absorbed in the subject.